Rose threw her head back with a loud moan. Her hands desperately tried to find purchase on the sheets beneath her. Her feet were pressed firmly into the mattress and her knees were bent at a forty-five degree angle. Her thighs cradled a set of broad shoulders. The head attached to those shoulders was buried at the apex of her thighs. A very talented tongue was doing delicious things to her and Rose felt herself ascending to a peak.
She thrashed around as her body began to quake. She tried to open her eyes to glance down to see who was bringing her to the edge, but she was blind. The tongue that had been plunging into her, was replaced by two long fingers.
"Let go, love," a sultry voice commanded, "you need to let yourself lose control." Rose felt a pair of full lips wrap themselves around her clit while the tip of a tongue quickly flicked against the bud. Combined with the pistoning fingers, Rose crashed over the edge.
Rose woke with a jolt. 'What the bloody hell was that?!' Rose thought as her breathing slowed. Her body was strung as tight as a bow and tremors passed through her legs. She assessed that she was still dressed from the evening before. Her knickers were soaked through and she hoped that she hadn't ruined her dress.
Rose had never felt anything as intense as that. She enjoyed sex as much as anyone else, she reasoned, but it had never consumed her thoughts. Could sensations like that exist outside of dreams or was it only in her imagination? Maybe Roxie and Lily were on to something when they questioned Daniel. Or maybe it was just Rose who was incapable of achieving such pleasure. She rolled over and screamed into her pillow in frustration.
She peeled herself out of bed and stripped down. Fortunately, it looked as though her birthday dress had been spared. Rose walked towards her shower and caught a glance into her mirror. Dear Merlin, she looked dreadful. Her subtle smoky eye was blurred to the point that it looked like she ingested one of Uncle George's Black Eye Butterscotches. Her berry lips were smudged and faded.
Rose sighed. She knew she was a reasonably attractive woman, but right now she was a disaster. She was certain that someone like Marguerite Shafiq never looked anything less than airbrushed perfection. Rose truly loathed that striking witch. Rose chuckled darkly; Rose would have loved nothing more than to strike her last night when she ruined Rose's birthday.
Sadly, Rose could not assign all of the blame to Marguerite. It was Scorpius who brought the bitch along. What the hell had he been thinking? Rose was livid. He was supposed to come to the party and enjoy a nice evening with all of their friends. Not go home early with some modelesque bint.
Rose took an extremely fast shower and threw on the first outfit she found. With a determined shout, Rose called out Malfoy Manor and was whisked away in a puff of green flame. Upon exiting the fireplace, Rose spotted a tall man with sleek blonde hair. Unfortunately, it was not the blond that was the source of Rose's fury.
"Hello Miss Weasley," Draco said. "Come to pay Scorpius a visit? He just arrived about an hour ago."
'Hmm,' Rose thought, 'So he'd been out all night.' Rose didn't have to ponder for very long before she concluded where he must have been. Rose suppressed a growl. It was not Draco's fault that his progeny thought with his cock rather than his brain. "Yeah, we've got some things to discuss. Where is he?"
Draco looked at Rose for a moment; she looked very much like her mother in this moment and Draco knew that his son was in trouble with the fiery witch. He finally responded, "He was in a foul mood when he arrived. I expect he's out in the field flying and trying to blow off some steam."
Rose thanked Draco and traipsed outside and located the young Malfoy heir. Rose observed him flying at breakneck speed, his blond hair whipping into his eyes. She attempted to get his attention by waving her arms around, but he never glanced her way. Fed up with waiting, Rose pulled out her wand and sent a stinging jinx towards him. The beam hit him squarely on the arse and he flew towards her.
"What the fuck, Rose!?" Scorpius scowled once he landed and rubbed his backside. "What did you do that for?"
"You weren't paying any attention and I needed to talk to you," Rose said. It was difficult for the hotheaded Weasley to keep her emotions in check, but she wanted to attempt to have a civilized conversation."
"I've got a lot on my mind, Rose. I had a really rough night."
"You had a rough night?" Rose said incredulously. "YOU HAD A ROUGH NIGHT?!" Rose exploded. So much for the calm, adult conversation she had intended. "You and your little slut effectively ruined my birthday! What the hell are you doing with her? She's psychotic or did you forget what she did to you back in Hogwarts? Perhaps being a manipulative bitch isn't enough of a turn off when she looks like that, huh? Must have been fun to dip your wick in that?"
Scorpius cut Rose off by pressing his hand against her mouth, "Must you be so crude. Look I'm sorry, OK? I had to take her out on a date." Rose bit down on Scorpius's fingers drawing blood.
"You HAD to take her out on a date? You don't have to do anything Scorpius."
"You don't understand, Rose," Scorpius beseeched, "my grandfather arranged it. According to him, I need to get serious about settling down. Marguerite Shafiq has the required pure-blood pedigree. I agreed to go out with her to get him off my back for a few months."
"Bullshit, Scorpius," Rose insisted, "you don't buy into that pure-blood nonsense. Tell her grandfather to bugger off. It's your life. And why, even if you felt compelled to date her, did you bring her to my birthday? Last night was supposed to be about my friends and family having a good time together. Instead it was fucking awkward."
"I thought that it would be safe to bring her there," Scorpius admitted. "I didn't think she'd try anything in front of a crowd."
"Fat load of good that did. She was rubbing up on you like a cat in heat. And it worked. You left early to go have a tumble into bed with her. How was it? I bet she's very bendy." Rose venomously spewed.
Scorpius looked hurt. "Merlin, Rose I didn't sleep with her. You've got to believe me."
"Don't fucking lie to me, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!" Rose seethed. "Your dad told me you just got home. Just be fucking honest with me. Did you fuck her?"
"No Rose," Scorpius looked into her eyes, "I spent the night at The Leaky Cauldron. I brought Marguerite home, dropped her at her door, and apparated to Diagon Alley. I got pissed on firewhiskey until I couldn't see straight. I did not fuck Marguerite Shafiq or any other witch." Scorpius reached out and tried to pull Rose in. She resisted.
"Whatever Scorp," Rose snorted, "I don't get a say in what or whom you do. It's none of my business. But bringing her to my party was a shitty thing to do"
"I'm sorry, Rose," Scorpius pleaded. "I fucked up, OK?"
"No, it's not OK, Scorpius," Rose sighed. "I've got to go now. Give me some space for a while, yeah? We'll talk again in a week or so."
"I'll do whatever I need to do to make it up to you, Rose," Scorpius pledged.
"I know, Scorp. I know you will." And with that, Rose turned and hurried back into the stately manor.
Once she was gone, Scorpius let out a loud, frustrated scream and earned looks of ire from the albino peacocks that his grandfather favored.
Later that week, Rose was once again at her desk feeling overwhelmed by the stacks of papers surrounding her. She had her nose buried in an archaic tome which listed the registered Animagi of the United Kingdom since the 14th century. When known, the individuals' corporeal patronus was listed in a separate column. Rose noted that the patronus almost always matched the animagus form. However, there were two instances of a wizard's patronus changing to another form while their animagus form remained constant.
Rose knew that a person's patronus could change as a result of a major life changing event. The patronus reflected the inner spirit of the caster and could thereby shift over time with a person suffered a great trauma or fell in love. Rose supposed that falling in love could also be categorized as a traumatic experience. She concluded that the animagus form was not purely a reflection of the inner spirit. But what it was, Rose still did not know.
The words on the page had blended together and Rose noticed that she had read the entry for Adrian Tutley three times. She needed a break. Coffee and a few biscuits should fit the bill, Rose decided. Maybe, Rose thought, a quick visit to Flourish and Blotts for a new novel could also be squeezed in.
Rose arrived in Diagon Alley and briskly walked to her favorite café. She nearly left when she saw Marguerite Shafiq holding court with her beautiful friends at one of the corner tables, but her need for a caffeine kick was too great. She strode up to the counter to place her order. When it was time to pay, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll get this," a smooth voice behind her said.
"Hello, Daniel," Rose said. "But I can pay for myself, thanks."
"I insist Rose," Daniel prodded, "I feel just terrible for how things ended between us and I'd like to make it up to you. Maybe we can chat and catch up."
Rose couldn't see the harm in that and she smiled. "Sure, I'm on a break from work right now so I've got a bit of time."
Rose and Daniel talked for about a half hour while she enjoyed her snacks. He apologized for accusing her of cheating and asked her for a second chance. "Why don't I pick you up on Friday night? We'll go out – someplace fun where we can dance and see where things go."
Rose, though cautious, didn't see why she shouldn't go and agreed.
Friday rolled around and it turned out Daniel's idea of "fun" was a stuffy work party. When he'd shown up at her door, he insisted Rose change out of her sensible wrap dress into something sexier. She blamed her compliance on her dream from last weekend and a need to actually feel sexy. She regretted that now.
Rose felt like she was some sort of shiny trophy the way Daniel was showing her off. She felt dirty from his coworkers' lecherous eyes on her exposed skin. What little dancing they did do was horrible; Daniel kept groping her ass and whispering repulsive, lewd comments into her ear. Rose was fed up and declared that she was going home.
Daniel excused himself from his colleagues to escort Rose out. Once they were alone, he grabbed her arm and hissed, "What the hell, Rose? You're embarrassing me."
"Let me go, Daniel," Rose warned. "You do not get to manhandle me."
"Ha," he barked, "I can do whatever I want. Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position, Rose? I'm an important person and I'm going places. You won't find someone better than me. You're lucky I'm willing to give someone like you a chance. There are way hotter chicks that would love the chance to be seen with me."
Rose wrenched her arm away and slapped him. "You fucking bastard. Don't ever come near me again." Daniel looked murderous as Rose apparated away.
When she landed in her living room, her eyes began to well up with tears.
"Rose?" she heard a concerned voice. She looked up to find Scorpius across the room. "What happened? Are you alright?"
Rose angrily rubbed the tears away from her eyes, "I'm fine now." She hated for anyone to see her cry. "What are you doing here, Scorp?"
"I needed to see how you were doing. I hate it when we fight. Albus told me to give you more time, but I miss you," Scorpius admitted. He reached out for her and froze. "What the hell is this?" He gestured to her arm.
Rose glanced down and noticed a hand shaped bruise developing on her arm. She hadn't thought Daniel's grip had been so strong. "I went on a date with Daniel. He put his hands on me and I slapped him. I won't be making the mistake of seeing him again."
Scorpius growled, "I'm going to fucking kill him. How dare he touch you? Where is he?!"
"Calm down, Scorp. I handled it. I don't need you to fight my battles for me. It's over and done with now."
"Fine, Rose. I don't fucking like it though. No man should do that to a woman. If he tries to come near you again, I'm not holding back."
Rose nodded, "I wouldn't expect you to." The pair fell into silence. "How's Marguerite?"
"I wouldn't know," Scorpius said, "I haven't seen or heard from her since my horrible decision at your birthday party last weekend."
"Good," Rose grinned, "just don't pull something like that again. It's not my place to judge who you spend time with, but you shouldn't feel forced into dating random pure-blood witches just because your family wishes it."
"I know," Scorpius said. "Sometimes it's just easier to go along with my grandfather's wishes than to stand up to him. He's a pretty scary guy." Scorpius was quiet for a moment. "Rose, you mean everything to me. I mean, your opinion does. Oh bugger it all. I don't want to be with any of those witches."
Rose laughed as Scorpius stumbled over his words. "It's fine, Scorp. Like I've said before, you're going to find the witch of your dreams someday. And maybe I'll even like her," Rose teased with a wink.
Scorpius's face eased into a smile, "Oh, you'll like her. I promise you that!" He pulled Rose down beside him on the couch and began to tickle her mercilessly.
The pair spent the rest of the evening chatting, cuddling, and laughing. They polished off a six pack of cranberry ale and a large heap of Honeyduke's finest chocolate. Rose hadn't felt so relaxed and contented in a long time. In the wee hours of the morning, the duo drifted off to sleep.
Hours later, they were rudely woken up by a shout, "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH MY DAUGHTER?"