Scorpius's plan to wait and share what had happened over a glass of elf-made wine dissolved when they reached the penthouse terrace. As they stowed the motorbike, words spilled out of his mouth so readily he almost suspected Rose of using a Compulsion Charm.

She said, "We would have passed information along anyway. Why are you upset?"

"I'm not." Scorpius opened the door to the stairway and followed Rose into the lounge. He headed straight for the drinks cabinet and poured two glasses of wine.

Rose remained at his side. "You're not upset but you need a drink?"

He bit back the reply that he'd spent the afternoon with her family. Any bloke in his position would need a drink. "Exactly."

"Hmmm." Rose took a sip from her glass. "Maybe I used the wrong word. You're not upset, you're concerned about something."

Scorpius swirled his wine around.

Rose said, "If it's me, I can take care of myself."

"I know." Scorpius sniffed the wine. "1996 was not a good year. I'll open another bottle."

"I'd rather you told me what's wrong."

He exhaled heavily. "Potter made a joke and . . . I think he saw my deformity."

"Your what?"

"My bifid zygomaticus major muscle."

Rose reached out a hand to caress his cheek. "A dimple is not a deformity."

Not to her, but his grandfather had a different opinion. Dimples betrayed Hufflepuff tendencies. "Will Potter tell anyone?"

Rose slid her arms around his waist. "Would Commissioner Goldman reveal the Green Knight's secrets?"

Scorpius smirked at the thought of Harry Potter with the comic book character's moustache.

"Besides," Rose said, "Uncle Harry probably doubted his eyesight. Only nice boys have dimples." Her jean-clad legs rubbed against his, creating a pleasant friction. "Slytherins aren't nice."

"Damn right." He kissed her in a way that was better than nice, and in return, she used her lips and tongue with the boldness of a Gryffindor.

"You don't need wine for stress relief," Rose said.

Her husky voice tightened every muscle in his body. "What's the alternative?"

Blue eyes twinkled. "A bubble bath."

.

The long, hot soak was as relaxing as promised. Even the bubble bomb explosion when Rose threw four WWW round "bombs" into the water for extra bubbles and filled the bathroom with suds had its benefit. Scorpius got to cover Rose with bubbles and then pop them.

They decided to stay in and grill chicken kebabs for dinner. Rose shook her head over the focal point of the balcony: a stone charcoal barbeque. "There was nothing wrong with the portable one I got from Dad."

"This one has a chimney." And came with a pizza oven insert, tool set, grill baskets, skewers, and a double burger press—whatever that was.

"It's big," Rose said. "You could cook for a party."

Her tone made the statement a question. Scorpius placed their kebabs on the grill. "I'm considering having a few workmates over for dinner. Is Saturday at seven good for you?"

Rose placed the cup of marinade on the barbeque prep table. "They won't talk freely if I'm around."

"I believe they will."

"With Lucius listening?"

"He won't be invited."

Rose gave a startled laugh. "He'll have kittens."

"Snakelets."

She shook her head.

"It's true." Scorpius turned the kebabs and brushed them with marinade. "Baby snakes are called snakelets, neonates, or hatchlings."

"That wasn't what I meant."

Scorpius hadn't thought it was; he'd been stalling. "I'll tell him I have to stand on my own or people will think I'm weak like my father."

"No."

He shrugged. "It's what he wants to hear."

"You shouldn't have to say it."

But he would. Scorpius grabbed a pair of tongs and transferred the kebabs to a clean platter. "The red peppers are charred at the edges."

"I don't expect perfection," Rose said.

He smiled a little. "I'll open a bottle of sparkling wine."

The orange sunset enticed them to eat outside. Scorpius asked about Rose's schedule, and she confessed that she hadn't been given one.

"Mum said the Ministry indoctrinates trainees for the first week. We learn the history and functions of all the offices and departments."

"Sounds fact-filled."

"I'll be taking reams of notes." Rose made a face. "And we're required to eat as a group in the Ministry canteen."

"I could have lunch delivered."

Rose seemed tempted, even as she said, "That wouldn't earn me any friends."

It would if she shared. "If it's any consolation, I'm sure Grandfather will arrange working lunches for me as well."

"At fine restaurants, not the corporate canteen." Envy was a good look on Rose. It did sexy things to her lips.

Scorpius said, "Malfoy Enterprises has a dining hall."

Rose's expression shifted from sulky to teasing. "With thousands and thousands of candles floating in midair, I suppose, and golden plates and goblets."

"It isn't a replica of the Great Hall."

Her eyes danced. "Only hundreds and hundreds of candles?"

"And plain white china." He left out that it was eighteenth century fine bone china, spell-protected against chips and breakage.

The sun had gone down by the time they finished dinner and began to clear away the dishes. None of Rose's clothes hanging in his wardrobe were business attire, so Scorpius asked if she wanted to go to Thornhill Square and pack a bag.

"I'm going to spend the night there," Rose replied.

"Why?" She hadn't slept at her parents' house in ages. She went home for clothes and the occasional family dinner or breakfast.

Rose said, "Mum and Dad want to have a talk. Give career advice."

Scorpius decided to scrub the pilaf dish by hand instead of using a spell. A few grains of rice encrusted the bottom of the pan, and it was more satisfying to physically scour them off. "That's going to take all night?"

"Of course not." Silence fell, and then she said, "We have to get up early tomorrow."

He opened a drawer to get a tea towel. "I have an alarm."

Rose watched him dry and put away the dish. She bit her lip. "They think we're rushing things, that it's too soon to—"

"—live together?" His words to Potter came to mind. "Too late."

Rose blushed. "I stay over."

"Every night. I gave you a key and the counter spells to disarm the security wards." His jaw clenched. "The toy Kneazle you've had since childhood is on my bed. Shall I retrieve him?"

"No, Mini-Crookshanks wants to stay with you."

"You want to stay with me." Scorpius refused to attribute feelings to a stuffed animal. "Tell your parents that."

"I tried." Her eyes flashed with challenge. "You've never asked me to move in. Was I supposed to invite myself?"

He'd thought . . . assumed . . . . "I want you to move in with me." He caressed her cheek; kissed her smiling lips.

Rose sighed. "I'll talk to my parents again, and this time I'll make them listen."

"I don't doubt it," Scorpius said. "I'll just come along to help you pack."

.

.

A/N: Who likes the thought of Ron and Hermione zapped with a Petrificus Totalus? That would make things too easy for Rose and Scorpius, but it's fun to imagine. The "thousands and thousands of candles" and "golden plates and goblets" were taken from the first HP book, and for Dark Knight fans, yes, Commissioner Goldman is homage to Gary Oldman. Hope the thought of Daniel Radcliff with a Commissioner Gordon moustache made readers smirk too.

Thanks to readers who made me smile with their reviews last chapter. alix33, arrrgghimapiratenow, cinroc, drcjsnider, Guest (I'd still love a name to use instead of guest), Il'Diko, makoshark, Moontime, SGed, and tambrathegreat.