Chapter Ten: Not-Together

Monday morning could not be described as anything short of chaotic.

Albus started moving into her flat bright and early, waking her up at six in the morning with his loud knocking, then dragging in several boxes at a time. He did not understand the meaning of the word quiet.

Then, when Rose got to work and was dropping off her lunch in the break room, Scorpius came in to make his—usually their—coffee. As soon as he saw her, he gave her a weak smile before spinning back around, fleeing the room. He didn't make eye contact with her for the next hour, and considering that they worked across from each other, that was quite the feat.

In fact, the only reason he'd made eye contact at all was probably because Rose gasped loudly around mid-morning. She'd been doing some changes on one of the smaller stories for the next Quidditch World issue—and the deadline was at the end of this week, so she was cutting it closer and closer—when the ink on her page quite literally dissolved.

"What the hell?" Rose exclaimed as she held up the page to the light. Her typed words were still there, but all the corrections she'd just been writing for the past hour had disappeared.

Scorpius pushed his chair back with a loud screech and was by her side in a moment. "What happened?"

"Everything I just wrote is gone," she said in disbelief. Other employees around her were coming over, peering over their shoulders. "There was ink all over this page, I swear."

"Has this happened to anyone else?" Scorpius asked, turning to the rest of the office. Everyone hurried back to their cubicles, each shaking their heads no and denying any changes to their work.

When Scorpius sat back down, he shuffled through his papers—and then he was sitting up on his chair, flipping through quickly. "My work is gone, too."

"What?"

He held up his parchment, which still had their notes from the previous Friday. Anything Scorpius added in the past hour had disappeared.

Rose chewed her lip. "Someone must have come in here and messed with our quills this morning, before we got here."

"Or our ink," he said, putting the parchment down, looking slightly disturbed as he glanced around the rest of the office again. "No one else is having this problem."

"Maybe this is the same person who set the owls on us."

"It feels targeted, that's for sure." They stared at each other for a beat too long, and all Rose could see—feel—was his body on top of hers.

Scorpius looked away hastily, going through papers on his desk. "I think the typewriter still works okay. I suppose we should borrow someone else's quills until we can verify the ones in storage haven't been hexed, too."

She cleared her throat. "That's a good idea." Ignoring the twisting in her heart was the only way forward with this. Maybe with time, they could go back to being comfortably friendly with one another. Or one of them would find a new job, and they'd probably never see each other, save for when Albus wanted them all together for his birthday.

This was for the best. It had to be.

The thought of things going back to what they had been made Rose feel unbearably sad. Before she and Scorpius worked together, they hadn't been close. Even at Hogwarts, in the same house, Albus, Orion and Scorpius had been an inseparable trio; though she was close to Albus, she'd never been close to Orion or Scorpius in the same way. And now that the trio seemed to be splitting apart, Rose hated to think she couldn't continue being friends with Scorpius. Thanks to SoulMates.

Not to mention that she still wanted to crawl over their desks to kiss him.

Luckily, she didn't have to feel tempted to do so for much longer; Scorpius was pulled into a meeting with the other higher-ups, and she had to focus on re-doing all the work she had lost that morning. His meeting ended long after lunchtime had passed, and when he came out of the meeting, he looked more than a little haggard.

"Rough meeting?" she asked sympathetically as he grabbed his wand from his desk.

Scorpius shook his head. "Let's not get into it, I'm starving. Can we go over the changes after I get back from lunch?"

"Of course."

But when Rose looked at the clock again, she realized an hour had passed, and he still hadn't come back to his desk. Another half hour passed before a sinking feeling struck the pit of her stomach, thinking of his tired grey eyes held up by dark rings, and with every minute passing, she had a feeling he wasn't coming back.

And regrettably, she knew exactly where he was.

Rose had to see if she could stop him from spying again.

Scorpius may not have the same hang-ups as she had with spying, but as she was presently working with him, she had to at least try. If Emily wanted to keep her soulmate private for the time being, she should be in her right to do that. And if Davis was a family friend of the Malfoy's, it was all the more reason not to intrude.

She found him easily, crouching under the same stands, exactly where he'd been the last time he was spying. He looked bored, watching the Puddlemere United players practice their drills; the Chasers were doing some complicated tossing and weaving in the air; the Keeper was switching from hoop to hoop, getting faster each time; the Beaters were wrestling a Bludger into a case—practice must have been coming to an end.

Scorpius didn't notice she'd approached him until she tapped him on the shoulder, harder than necessary.

He jumped. "Holy sh—Rose?!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Scorpius glanced back at the players before pulling her behind the large wooden pole, out of sight. "How did you find me here?"

"I can't believe you came back—I thought we agreed you wouldn't do this again!"

"I agreed to nothing," he said shortly, turning back to the pitch. "In case you didn't realize, our deadline is literally at the end of this week."

"We should just write that Emily didn't sleep her way onto the team," she suggested, running a hand through her hair. "I know it's not what Barnes wanted, but it's something, and maybe it'll buy us more time."

Scorpius didn't look at her as he spoke. "Everyone we've spoken to says the opposite."

"They're speculating," Rose said, trying not to splutter. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "They're all rumours, you know that."

"I know that!" he said in a loud whisper. "That's why I'm here, okay? I don't believe it either. Why can't you just let me do my job?"

"This shouldn't be your job."

"It shouldn't," he whispered bitingly, "and I shouldn't have to move at the end of this week to a flat I can barely afford, and everything shouldn't be fucking falling apart, but that's where we're at, isn't it?"

Rose felt that blow in her chest.

She didn't have a chance to respond, however; they heard a whistle, and as if on auto-pilot, Scorpius wrapped his arm around her and forced her in against his side, and she momentarily forgot to breathe. Concealed, they both watched as the team—besides the Beaters, who had successfully wrestled the second Bludger into the case—descended down to the ground, gathering in a circle.

"They're just ending practice," she whispered.

"Shhh."

Rose didn't know how long they were there, Scorpius still holding her—did he just enjoy that, or did he actually think she was going to give them away?—watching the team have a meeting in the middle of the pitch. Davis went on and on, not that they could hear exactly what they were saying.

The team was huddling when Scorpius finally released his grip on her. "They're going to their change rooms—let's take our chances and get out while they're all in there."

"I suppose you would know, since you've done this so many times."

He sighed but didn't reply.

Even the huddle took a long while, and Rose definitely didn't recall the Wasps having huddles for so long. The sun had disappeared behind the stands, not setting, but casting a large shadow over the pitch. It had grown considerably darker when they finally broke, loudly cheering together before heading to the change rooms.

Scorpius rested his back against the stand, looking down at her, but she refused to meet his eyes. "You're not going to find anything, Scorpius."

"Not yet."

"We'll just have to—what the hell?"

Scorpius twisted back to look where Rose was looking, wide-eyed, jaw dropped. The team had mostly gone into the change rooms already, except two, an intertwined couple. A woman—definitely Emily, she could see her face—and a man with distinctive black hair, standing at all ends.

"Is that Wood and Davis?" Scorpius whispered.

"That's James," she replied, pressing her front against the pole, stretching her neck out as far as she could and squinting. "His hair…"

"Are you sure?"

Rose didn't have to answer; he picked up Emily and spun her around at least twice before kissing her, and his face was as clear as day. She'd never seen her cousin this way before, not even with his (now she was suspecting, fake) ex-girlfriend: elated, pink-faced, smitten.

"Emily's soulmate is James," she whispered, looking at the evidence, saying it out loud and still not quite able to believe it. She watched as they went into the changing rooms, hand-in-hand.

"If she's dating James, then why did he tell you that she was dating Davis?"

"I dunno." She crossed her arms and looked out at the now-empty pitch, the darkening sky. "Probably the same reason he brought a likely-fake girlfriend to Easter; he was trying to throw us off, keep them a secret. Dating's discouraged within the team—practically a career-killer."

Scorpius frowned. "If you can't date within the team, then having rumours of Emily and Davis flying around isn't much better."

"This part doesn't make sense," she admitted. "She said she found her soulmate eight months ago. Why make things more complicated by joining the same team a few months later?"

"It lines up with a cover-up, though," he pointed out. "James must have been covering up their relationship, but he cares about Emily, so he wouldn't want anyone saying she slept her way onto the team. But he wanted people thinking she was with someone else, to hide the truth. That's why he said Emily and Davis started dating after she joined the team."

"That's probably why Bell told us he thought they were dating—James was probably covering it up, and that's what he told Bell."

"Exactly."

"And it'll make the papers anyway, since it's such a scandal. People would understand how dating is discouraged between most colleagues."

Scorpius shrugged, voice a touch dry—bitter, really. "Worse things have happened."

Rose felt her heart catch in her throat.

There was a brief silence before she spoke again. "James must've been the one behind the owl attack in the office. And the disappearing ink, that's him all over."

Scorpius shook his head. "I should've guessed."

She agreed. The owl thing was James, of course it was. Who else would prank a magazine office to deal with his problems?

"I can't believe this—my cousin is her soulmate, and she didn't tell me?" she whispered, mostly to herself.

"You do work for the press now."

"She should've told me," Rose reiterated, staring at the place where Emily and James had been, none the wiser that anyone had seen them. "I wouldn't have given them away."

"What, like I'm not about to go and write that article now?" he pointed out, and she nearly got whiplash, rushing to look at him.

"You can't."

"You can't," he insisted, stepping towards her. "But I'm not her friend. I don't even like James, I just put up with him because of Al."

"It's wrong." She could feel her heart thumping in her chest, enough to cause a shaking in her words. "You figured it out by spying—that's not evidence. You can't prove anything."

Scorpius just looked at her, lips tight in a line.

And then it hit her—of course he could prove it. Because of SoulMate tattoos. Even if he couldn't expose the story with evidence, people would demand evidence to prove the contrary. It would put Emily in an impossible position.

The realization was overwhelming. Unsure of what to say—clearly, Scorpius had made up his mind—Rose started towards the pitch entrance, as fast as she could.

He immediately followed her. "Rose, wait."

"We're finished here, aren't we?" she said, not turning around. "You've found your story. Well done. I'm going to hand in my resignation soon, anyway."

"Fucking hell—would you just wait—"

But she'd had just about enough, and as soon as she reached the entrance, she apparated out. Just as she'd spun in place, eyes shut tightly, she felt Scorpius grab her shoulder, apparating with her.

Rose brought them to the Quidditch World office.

Scorpius stumbled as they landed; he clearly hadn't intended on side-apparating. Rose helped him get steadied before looking around; the clock read half past six, and their co-workers had all left by then. She rubbed her eyes, suddenly exhausted.

"Listen," he said behind her, having caught his breath, "I don't want to report this story. You know that, right?"

"I don't know that," she mumbled, not turning around. Was he playing mind games with her now? Between finding out her most annoying cousin was her probably-ex-best friend's soulmate, that he was definitely the one pranking-slash-sabotaging their office, and that Scorpius clearly did not have a moral compass when it came to work, she just felt very tired by it all.

"I don't," he said, sounding just as exhausted as she did. "You know I don't."

Rose went to sit at the edge of her desk, shoving her papers aside; her leg wasn't hurting at all, but she needed to calm down. He sat beside her on his own, tidy desk. "I guess I'm confused."

He let out a frustrated breath. "You know what that long meeting was about this morning? Apparently, we're modernizing the system. Bringing something called computers in, getting onto the Wizarding Net. More gossip. Writing articles called listicles." He shuddered. "How does that even count as writing?"

She had no idea what he was talking about.

"And then he goes on to say that I'm doing such a good job by kicking off the modernization with this story on Emily Wood. Showing me off before sending me this look, because he knows we don't have a story, and he's ready to let the entire office know I've royally mucked this up."

"You really can't talk to him?" she asked, though she knew the answer. "You can't convince him that the issue is better off without the story?"

"I don't think I have a choice," he continued, dejected. "If I don't write about her relationship, I'm fucked. And it's like you don't even care."

Rose felt immediately hurt by this.

"That's not fair," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "I've questioned her multiple times. I asked James, before I even knew he was involved, and he's family. I've done what I can for this job."

"It's not them or your job that you don't care about." His gaze was determinedly fixed on the far corner of the room. "Anyway, you were the one who wanted to leave."

At first, Rose thought Scorpius was talking about leaving Quidditch World, since she'd told him she was going to resign just a few minutes before. But then it occurred to her, with the way he couldn't meet her eyes, the clenching in his jaw.

He was talking about their night together.

She didn't know what to say. He couldn't possibly believe that she actually wanted to leave, could he? She couldn't have done such poor work of showing how much she cared. But then he'd been so surprised by the tiny, almost effortless gift she'd given him. He didn't even assume they would go out on a date after they slept together.

Did he really not know that she was in love with him?

"I didn't want to leave," she said quietly. "Not at all."

"Really." His voice was far too toneless for the frustration that was underneath. "I honestly have no idea what you want. If you could give me a hint, that would be grand."

Rose couldn't stop staring at him. He really didn't know how she felt—not even a clue.

She took Scorpius by surprise by drawing his hand into hers, lacing their fingers together.

"I didn't want to leave," she repeated nervously. Why was this so much easier to write it down than say it out loud? "I just feel… I like that you're in my life. And I have to protect that."

He paused before replying. "You're not protecting that. You're protecting yourself."

Rose spluttered in protest.

"But maybe you can understand, then," he interrupted, saving her from making any sort of intelligent response that wasn't about to happen anyway, "why I'm doing all of this spying nonsense. Even if I don't want to do it, or write about any of this."

To protect himself.

Rose sighed in defeat and leaned her head on his shoulder. "What do you want to write?"

The movement caught Scorpius off guard. "Uh—I dunno. What I wrote in that article for The Prophet, I guess. Thought-provoking ideas. Something that could change things for whoever is reading it."

"Mhm." She nodded. "So, not like that one article I wrote for this issue. 'What your favourite broomstick says about you.'"

He snorted, almost reluctantly. "Yeah. Not that there's anything wrong with those. It's just not what I want to be writing."

"You've been at this job for a long time, not writing what you want to be writing."

"It's my first job out of uni. I feel like I should be loyal to it," he explained. "Not that Barnes is loyal to me in any way."

"You shouldn't be. Quidditch World doesn't deserve you."

"I don't know about that." But Scorpius was smiling now, she could see it from her peripheral vision.

Rose smiled back, chin against the top of his arm. "It's true."

"I can't be here for much longer," he said, frowning as he looked around the office. "I mean, not if they were serious about all those changes, and I think they are. I always thought we would continue as a sports magazine, but I guess it doesn't sell as well."

"Where do you think you'll go?"

"I have no idea." He turned towards her. "Wherever it is, I'm not going to chase rumours and gossip anymore."

Her smile fell and she lifted her head off his shoulder.

"You don't believe me?" he asked, sounding slightly offended.

"I don't think you get what it's like being on the other side of this." Her throat clenched, unable to elaborate further. She'd had to run from paparazzi or overzealous reporters several times, following her down alleys, shouting and flashing their camera bulbs at her. Especially after her injury, when she'd still lived in Diagon Alley, getting away from them had been an ordeal.

Even without context, Scorpius seemed to understand, just from the look on her face.

"Rose," he said gently, meaningfully, "I'm never going to spy again."

"You mean, until the next time you're backed into a corner at work?" She knew was being petty, but she couldn't help it.

"No, I mean never, under any circumstances." He squeezed her fingers, making them feel tingly and warm. "Whatever's happened between us, we're still friends. I promise, I'm not going to spy if it hurts you."

She felt relief—he wasn't an asshole, cutting her out of his life because she wasn't sure about their relationship—but still, her stomach twisted into a tight knot. "We're still friends?"

"Of course." Even his voice was friendly, perhaps overly so. "Nothing's changed."

That was even more upsetting. She took a deep breath. "And you'd really stop spying. For me."

He looked a tad embarrassed, reaching up with his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. "Rose, there's really not much I wouldn't do for you."

Even if she wasn't sure that was the whole truth—he was probably going to write that article, at least so he wouldn't get fired and be out on the street—there was a part of it that was true, that he fully meant. Rose could feel it in the way he was still gripping her hand, the way he'd put down his guard, had been vulnerable. With her.

Scorpius pulled his hand out from hers. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Her voice was suddenly quiet, without meaning to.

"Like you want…" His throat bobbed. "Like you want me to kiss you."

"I always want to kiss you." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. But for once, she didn't want to stop them.

"I know." Scorpius didn't explain further. She wondered if he could.

So, she leaned in and kissed him.

It was tentative, but somehow also sure, the way Rose reached up and slowly cupped his cheeks, fingers soft at his stubble. He was more hesitant, but didn't pull away. It took a moment before he pressed back into her, his hands sliding onto her waist, moving his lips with hers.

This. This felt right.

Why did it feel so right?

And it wasn't close enough, so Rose found herself pulling, pulling, until his arms were wrapped around her and she had proper access to his mouth. Showing him how much he meant to her, because she didn't have the words to say it out loud. Closer and closer, until she gave up all pretenses and hitched her legs around his, fully on top of him.

"Fuck, Rose," Scorpius groaned, his lips finding her jaw, her neck. She found the buttons on his shirt—they were always teasing her, day after day—and began undoing them, one-by-one, altogether too slowly.

And then—just a slight, accidental shift to the right—and her shin was pressed all the way against the top of the desk.

The sharp pain took her by surprise, since her leg hadn't been hurting at all that day. Rose gasped, nearly falling back before Scorpius grabbed onto her by the waist. He shifted her until she was sitting sideways across his lap, legs dangling, fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, still breathing hard.

"Yeah." She tucked the collars of his shirt in, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry. Shouldn't have straddled you. Got a bit carried away there."

"I liked it." He ducked his head to press his lips to hers again, just for a second. "Are you sure you want to be doing this?"

"To be honest, I've been thinking about snogging you on your desk since the day I started working here."

He coughed—choked?—and went red. "No, I meant…"

She understood, after a moment, how he interpreted kissing her. That she wanted to be with him, despite the soulmate situation. That she wanted to act on her feelings—or, as she now suspected he was thinking, that she had feelings for him in the first place. The fact that he didn't know was still baffling to her.

"I don't know," she said softly. "I think I want to try. It's just the opposite of how I thought things would turn out. I always figured I would be with my soulmate."

Scorpius' arms tightened around her. "You've never considered being with someone else, even if you don't know how it turns out in the end?"

The concept of chosen soulmates had consumed Rose since Laila had mentioned it, but it was still new to her. The logical part of her mind still felt like it was too much of a gamble to be a good idea. But her answer was in her gut, what she really wanted, if she allowed herself to hear it.

Right then and there, it didn't seem like a difficult decision anymore.

She didn't realize she was saying it until it came out. "If there's anyone I would choose to be with, it would be you."

It took a second to hit him. A slow smile spread on his features as he pulled her closer. "Really? You're sure?"

For the first time in what seemed like forever, she was.

And she was telling him so before she trailed off, spotting something on Scorpius' chest, just above his heart, where his shirt had come undone.

For a few moments, she was mesmerized by the letters of her name, just a few shades darker than his skin, as though it was carved into it. Scorpius was holding his breath as she traced it, the curve over the 'R' to the loop in the last 'y'. Rose Weasley.

And then it hit her, all at once.

Why the fuck did Scorpius have a SoulMate tattoo of her name over his heart?

And if he had one, what had happened to hers?

A/N: Of course, we all knew they were meant for each other ;)

Thanks so much for reading, and apologies for the late chapter! I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know your thoughts!