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Rose had drifted off for hours, the dull ache in her arm lulling her into an unplanned nap, only to be startled awake by an incessant tap-tap-tap at her window. Of course. Scorpius's eagle owl. The bird perched there with an unmistakable air of smugness, as if it knew its delivery was of utmost importance. It held two envelopes in its talons: one penned in Scorpius's infuriatingly tidy handwriting and the other scrawled in Albus's signature 'demented beetle hopped up on sugar quills' style.

Suppressing a groan, Rose opened the window. The owl, apparently a diva in its past life, fluttered inside with a dramatic ruffle of feathers before depositing its cargo on her desk. Rose gave it a side-eye. "You want applause, or are you good?" she muttered. The owl hooted indignantly before flying off, leaving her alone with the letters.

Naturally, she opened Scorpius's first—if only to save her eyes from Albus's disaster of a penmanship.

Dear Rose,

I trust you're reading this after some much-needed rest. (If not, I'll be very annoyed.) How's the arm? Still functional? Or are you plotting to replace it with some dramatic magical prosthetic for effect? I wouldn't put it past you.

Now, on to the good stuff: Sablewood. Oh, Weasley, you should have been there to see his face when he read your resignation. It was a masterpiece of rage, denial, and sheer disbelief. Truly, you've outdone yourself. He's furious—and utterly lost without you. Apparently, he never thought the golden goose would up and leave the coop.

To make matters better (for us, worse for him), he's now directing a fair portion of that anger at me. Apparently, I'm "poaching his brightest talent." He said it like you were some prized hippogriff I lured away with better treats. Honestly, I couldn't be prouder.

You should know, though, that his fury only confirms what I've always known: you were the backbone of his entire operation. He built his department on your brilliance while taking all the credit. And now, for the first time, he's realizing the one person who kept it all afloat has had enough. Cheers to poetic justice.

That said, I couldn't let another minute go by without ensuring your brilliance landed somewhere it could truly shine. Your new office at Magitec is already set up—don't argue, just accept it. Your belongings have been moved, everything is in place, and it's just waiting for you. No pressure, of course. Take your time to recover, relax, and enjoy the fact that Sablewood is likely tearing out his hair right now.

As for me? I'll admit it—I'm selfishly thrilled. I get to call you my partner before anyone else swoops in. And no, I'm not prepared to lose the world's most talented potioneer to some second-rate rival company. (You can pretend you don't enjoy being called the 'world's most talented potioneer,' but we both know the truth.)

For now, focus on healing. Have your dinner—do not skip it, or I'll hear about it and be insufferable. Oh, and if you must miss me (which I'm certain you will), don't miss me too much.

Yours in equal parts admiration and exasperation,

Scorpius

Rose folded the letter, fighting the urge to roll her eyes and smile at the same time. Leave it to Scorpius Malfoy to mix sincere concern with smug self-satisfaction. But as she leaned back in her chair, letting the ache in her arm fade into the background, she couldn't help but admit—he had a way of making things better, even if he'd never let her forget it.

Setting the letter aside, Rose let out a dramatic sigh, as though the weight of Scorpius's ego had physically exhausted her. Her arm still throbbed, but she supposed he might be right—for once. Rest, recover, and step into this new chapter ready to dazzle everyone with her brilliance. No pressure, obviously.

She stretched, wincing slightly as her arm protested. "Fine, Malfoy," she muttered to the empty room. "I'll rest, I'll recover, and I'll even think about dinner. But if you think I'm going to admit you're right, you'll be waiting a long time."

As she sank back into the cushions, the faintest smirk tugged at her lips. Maybe—just maybe—she'd let herself miss him. A little. But only until the owl came back with another of his overly dramatic letters. Then it would be war.

Dear Scorpius,

How thoughtful of you to check in. My hand's still sore, so I'll keep this short—I know how much you adore my long letters. Resigning? Bold move for someone who avoids conflict like a Hippogriff avoids tight spaces, but watching Sablewood flail was worth it. Oh, and about Magitec—maybe ask me first before rearranging my life? But sure, I'll humor your 'respectful and considerate' organization.

Yes, I'll eat. No, I won't miss you too much. Don't get your hopes up.

Yours sarcastically,

Rose

With a sigh, Rose picked up Albus's letter, bracing herself for whatever chaos he'd decided to send her way.

Dear Rosie,

I'm at Scorpius's (again) using his owl, Nimbus—who, by the way, is judging my soul as I write.

So, Scorpius told me about your accident. Don't worry—I haven't snitched to Aunt Hermione (yet). But here's the fun part: Scorpius has been on a rampage, filing complaints about Sablewood to Sylvia Draughtmere herself. The man's practically combusting. Scorpius also discovered you've been running that place while Sablewood coasted. Typical Malfoy overachiever, knowing your job better than you.

And of course, he's thrilled you'll be joining Magitec. Honestly, his obsession with you has hit legendary levels. Every day it's, "Have you seen how brilliant Rosie is?" or "She's stunning even when overwhelmed." If I hear one more swoon-filled declaration, I'll stage an intervention.

Anyway, rest up, eat something, and let me know if you need me to rescue you from his devotion.

Yours (less obsessively),

Al

Rose set the letter down, her cheeks warming as Al's words echoed in her mind. "Overwhelmed but stunning?" she muttered, groaning. Of course, Scorpius couldn't help meddling—her boss, her workload, and now her headspace. Al's relentless commentary only added to the chaos. Still, a traitorous smile tugged at her lips. Scorpius Malfoy, she thought, equal parts fond and exasperated. What am I going to do with you?

Shaking it off, she grabbed parchment and quill to pen her response to Al.

Al,

Thanks for the updates. I'm thrilled to know Scorpius's obsessive hovering has kept you entertained. Don't worry, I'll eat, rest, and take my potions—shocking, I know. And if you breathe a word of this accident to anyone, you're officially disowned.

Yours sarcastically,

Rose

Sealing the letter, she turned to Nimbus, Scorpius's ever-smug owl. "Make sure neither of them get too smug, alright?" she muttered. Nimbus hooted, unimpressed, and soared into the sky with both letters. Rose sighed, sinking back into her pillows. She wasn't sure what annoyed her more—Scorpius's relentless concern or the fact that she was starting to enjoy it.

The following days passed in a strange blur of rest, potions, and a steady stream of owls. Albus's letters were predictably sarcastic. "Don't mix your potions with firewhisky this time," one had said. Another simply read, "Rest is a thing. Try it. If you need any advice on how to do nothing, just let me know."

Scorpius, on the other hand, was insufferably... well, Scorpius.

One letter read: "Are you actually resting or just dodging me? I'll come over and supervise your potions if I must." Another: "Rest. Eat. Heal. And no, you're not allowed to miss me too much."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her laughter. For all his teasing, his words carried an unmistakable warmth.

One afternoon, a knock startled her. When she opened the door, Lily stood there, arms crossed and grinning like she knew all Rose's secrets.

"Well," Lily said, smirking, "someone's been getting all the attention lately. Scorpius's letters keeping you company?"

Rose groaned. "Don't start."

"Oh, I will," Lily replied, strolling in. "He's been pining after you forever, Rose. And don't act like you haven't noticed."

Rose scoffed, crossing her arms. "Lily, Scorpius is a playboy. He's like that with everyone."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because last I checked, 'everyone' doesn't get daily letters, constant check-ins, and a personal complaint lodged against their boss. Sounds more like he's hopelessly in love than casually flirting."

"Hopelessly insufferable, maybe," Rose shot back.

Lily leaned closer, her grin widening. "Oh, come on. Admit it—you like the attention."

Rose's cheeks flushed. "He's persistent, not serious. And I'm not interested in being one of his... projects."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Rosie, if Scorpius wanted to move on, he would've. But he hasn't. He's here, annoying as ever, because you're not just anyone to him. Maybe you're the one who's scared of admitting that."

Rose opened her mouth to argue but stopped. The flutter in her chest was betraying her resolve.

"Fine," she said finally, "but don't expect me to fall for his charms."

Lily smirked knowingly. "Oh, I don't have to. You already have."

As Lily left, Rose collapsed onto the couch, groaning. The idea that Scorpius's feelings might actually be genuine was too much to process. But as much as she tried to dismiss it, she couldn't stop the tiny part of her heart that hoped Lily was right.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.