Harry Potter 1. A: Amortensia

_Hello everyone!_

_This is my second Harry Potter fanfiction. UbiquitousPhantom and QueenOfLunacy (check out my Favorite Stories list) inspired me for this series of short stories where each title starts with another letter of the alphabet. I wanted to do the same with one of my favorite - though unconfirmed :) - Hogwarts couple: Scorpius and Rose._

_Hope you enjoy it!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter_, not that anyone would ever think I do. JKR does._

_A/N: unbetaed_

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**A for Amortensia**

Scorpius Malfoy was the most sought-after boy of Hogwarts. He was rich, he had pedigree, he was Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team and probably the best Seeker Hogwarts had hosted - quite ironically - since Harry Potter. He was smart, always dressed with taste, he was the best student of his prom without trying too hard. But most of all, Scorpius Malfoy was unbelievably handsome, a perfect mix between his father's silver-blond hair and fine features and his mother's warm smile and sparkling grey eyes.

He could have any girl at school just with his looks – and he didn't bother not taking what they offered him.

One could have called Scorpius Malfoy a womanizer. But no one did, because he was something more than just this. He didn't really go after girls – it seemed girls willingly chose to fall into his arms, like fireflies who would willingly fly into a spider's web. And girls knew what to expect from a relationship with Malfoy: a brief moment of spotlight, a few days of hope and daydreaming – would they finally be the one for him? – and, eventually - inevitably - an end.

Because Scorpius Malfoy had never fallen in love. Despite his dating the prettiest, most popular girls of Hogwarts, he had never felt love for any of them. You know, _love_. The feeling that sends butterflies flying in your stomach, that makes you feel as if you've been Petrified, that makes you sweat and stammer whenever the object of your affection is around. Sure, the symptoms of love wouldn't be appealing, if they weren't so worth the trouble: happiness, comfort and laughter forever with the one you love.

But Scorpius Malfoy didn't know any of this. He had only read the first chapter of the book of love, the one about the symptoms, and he had found them so unpleasant that he had sworn never to experience them. And thus, never to fall in love.

Which is why everybody at Hogwarts was so surprised to wake up one day and find Scorpius Malfoy in love with Rose Weasley.

At first, people didn't notice it. There had been only a tiny change in Scorpius's behaviour. He didn't look at girls anymore – well, other girls than Rose Weasley – he declined the offer everytime a pretty girl tried to ask him out, he didn't laugh at the lame macho jokes his friends made anymore.

Then people started noticing that something different was going on. Scorpius stopped eating as a normal sixteen-year-old boy should, and instead he spent breakfast, lunch and dinner times dreamily looking at a certain red-haired girl sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Nobody was there when he first spoke to Rose, and no one knew what he told her.

But from then on Scorpius Malfoy would always be seen sitting next to Rose Weasley in every class they had in common, and at those times he looked nothing like anybody had ever seen him look: shy and fragile and incredibly happy.

And as people had never seen Scorpius Malfoy in love - and as to them he could fall in love with anyone but Rose Weasley - they assumed there was only one explanation for this incredible phenomenon: Amortensia.

Yes, that was it, people thought. There couldn't be another way such a thing could have happened. Rose must have slipped a few drops of Amortensia in Scorpius's drink or something. Because in a magical world, magic was the explanation for everything, even feelings. And girls started bitching about Rose, and discuss how she had no ethics, and how she was fat and ugly and stupid – she wasn't – and how Scorpius would never have fallen for her if there hadn't been a love potion to force him into this. And boys started mocking poor Scorpius Malfoy who was _sooo_ in love when they were above such degrading feelings – they weren't, they were just jealous – and how Rose could do anything she wanted with him now. And the rumor spread around the castle faster than Peeves fleeing the Bloody Baron.

But Scorpius didn't care and Rose didn't notice.

Nobody was there when they first kissed, and no one knew how they truly felt for each other.

Only one detail was certain: Amortensia had nothing to do with them falling in love.

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_So, what did you think? Reviews highly appreciated - and if you suggest words for the titles of the next chapters, I'll dedicate them to you :)_


	2. B: Breaking Up

_Hello everyone!_

Thanks to all of you who read, review and add this story to your favorites and alerts. I promise I'll write every week for you. And here, I keep my promise, second chapter is up!

B is for Breaking up. It sounds obvious but oh well, it sounded interesting to me. Hope you enjoy it!

_Disclaimer: I once owned Harry Potter and then I woke up._

_A/N: unbetaed_

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**B for Breaking Up**

Rose Weasley sat between her cousins Lily and Albus at the Gryffindor table. She knew they knew. She knew all the Gryffindors knew. By now, all the Slytherins must know as well. Soon, the entire school would buzz with the news like the giant beehive this place actually was.

She knew they would pretend nothing happened and that they would try to spare her their concerned faces and worried glances. They were right to do that: she already hated this, though she had never experienced it yet. The concerned faces, the 'how do you do''s, the comforting pattings on the back and the girls-night-outs to make her feel better. She didn't want anyone to _ever_ remind her of what had happened.

She had to be tough. She had to pretend she was fine. She had to show the world the same face she had shown them before _he_ came along. She had to build herself an armour to prevent the world from getting at her – and also to prevent her from ever being that hurt again. She paused her thoughts for a minute and considered the everyday scenes taking place around her: Fred and James playfully fighting with each other, Lily checking her reflection on the back of a silver spoon, Albus pouring himself another glass of pumpkin juice. Yeah, she could do this. She could already feel the armour slowly building itself around her.

And then he walked in. She saw him and she froze, as if someone had just splashed a bucket of icy water on her chest. Only now did she realize she had acted as if he would never show up, as if her path would never cross his anymore. How stupid of her. They went to the same school, for Merlin's sake. They lived in the same place. How could she have left out that fact in her resolution to pretend he never existed?

Scorpius walked down the Slytherin table, and it broke her heart a little. It seemed that in just a few hours, in just one night, she had forgotten the way he looked: his cat-like yet determined walk, his ruffled – oh-so-sexy – blond hair, his features a little too delicate for the role he played everyday in front of all the other people. All these details were now just a cruel reminder of how much she used to love him – _oh, who was she kidding, _how much she still loved him. And just like that, she felt her newly-built armour shatter into pieces, and her flesh and heart felt exposed again.

Scorpius sat down at his table between his friends – who gave him the same looks as the ones Rose feared – and he looked up at her. His glance crossed the Great Hall and hit her eyes like a bright ray of sunlight.

It made her ache. She crossed her arms around her and held her sides to avoid the pain from getting worse. She couldn't imagine the devastated look that must have appeared on her face – she didn't bother to turn and see it in her cousins' eyes – she just knew he hurt as much as she did. The barely-visible dark circles under his tortured grey eyes looked deep purple to her. She knew him so well. She knew instantly he had never felt like this in his entire life. Neither had she, for that matter.

Breaking up was a huge mistake. Break-ups are constructive when there's a good reason behind them. What was _their_ good reason? They were perfect for each other. They knew each other inside out. They had always shown sympathy for each other's problems and troubles, big or small. He held her at night when she cried, and she was the only one to make him laugh and feel thankful to be alive when things went bad with his family.

And there they were, broken up because of stupid reasons. 'My father hates you', 'Our families will never make peace with this' and 'My past is too heavy for you to carry' were _not_ good reasons. A good reason would be 'I don't love you anymore'. And this, she knew, would never happen.

She dried the silent tear that had rolled down her pale cheek and just looked away. There was nothing else left to do.

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_So, what did you think? Reviews highly appreciated - and if you suggest words that inspire me for the titles of the next chapters, I'll dedicate them to you :)_


	3. C: Cigarettes and Coffee

_Hello everyone !_

_Two chapters in one day. I'm spoiling you really ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing, I always appreciate it!_

_About Chapter C: I don't smoke and I think it's a bad habit. But I was listening to this beautiful song by Otis Redding and the atmosphere of the song inspired me for this chapter. I could imagine Scorpius and Rose in this situation. Hope you enjoy it!_

_Disclaimer: I've written it twice but I can write it once more: I don't own Harry Potter._

_A/N: unbetaed. Sorry about possible spelling/grammar mistakes._

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**C for Cigarettes and Coffee**

It was early in the morning, about a quarter to three. Rose Weasley was sitting alone at her booth, smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee. In front of her on the table lied a thick pad of Oxford-ruled paper on which she wrote a few words every now and then.

She brought the cigarette to her lips and breathed in a puff of smoke. She exhaled it slowly, sensually, as if she savored every tiny flavor of it. While she did this, the door of the little café opened with a cristalline sound and a yound man walked in.

Rose froze on the spot. She hadn't expected this, a familiar face walking in her café – she called this place _her_ café because she loved the coffee they served and the dim lights and the comfortable seats. That's where she went everytime she couldn't find inspiration, something that happened more and more often lately. She hadn't expected to see anyone she knew here, especially him. She had tried to forget him for almost seven years – but he seemed to pop into her life just to prevent her for ever forgetting.

The man stopped at the counter and ordered something quickly before turning and walking towards her. He sat at her booth, on the seat opposite hers, with such confidence she didn't even think to protest.

He smiled her favorite crooked smile – the one that made her heart melt everytime – and ran his hand in his thick, sleek blond hair, revealing his beautiful grey eyes.

She shivered a little but managed to smile back.

'Hey', he said.

'Hey', she answered, her voice barely a whisper.

The waiter brought him a cup of coffee. While he was being served, the young man kept his eyes on her. Then the waiter poured Rose some more coffee and left, leaving them with two smoky cups of dark liquid between them.

'Did you follow me here?' Rose asked briskly, as if she couldn't hold the question any longer.

He laughed.

'What makes you think I did?'

'Well, is it a coincidence that you walk randomly into _this_ café at _three_ in the morning?'

'I couldn't sleep, and I live in the building right accross the street, if that answers your question about the time and place.'

'Oh.'

'Don't act like you're surprised. Don't tell me you didn't know I live here.'

She squirmed uncomfortably on her seat.

'There are lots of things about you that I try not to remember.'

He sighed and looked down at his coffee.

'Can I borrow a cigarette then? Since I'm here and you're here and we've got nothing better to do at three in the morning, we may as well keep ruining our health and talk about it.'

Rose stared at him for a moment then bent over the bag next to her on the seat and searched for something. Eventually she took a pack of cigarettes out of it and handed it to him.

'I didn't know you smoked.'

'I didn't know you smoked either. You've always been such a good girl.'

'Have I really?'

'Back then when we were students at Hogwarts, yes, I thought you were.'

'If I was, would I ever have gone out with you?'

He took the pack of cigarettes, pulled one out, held it between his first and middle fingers, brought it to his lips and lit it. He inhaled a long puff, his eyes half closed, slowly, sensually. The cigarette brought Rose's attention on his lips, and she felt something twist excitedly in her stomach. He still looked the same way he did back then, when they were seventeen, she thought. He had grown up since then, his face was thinner, manlier, but he still looked the same: handsome and sexy and a little too dangerous for Rose's good. She had realized that a long time ago: if she had been attracted to him in the first place, it was because he seemed to be the forbidden fruit to her. After that, she had learnt to know him, and she had seen that he was a lot more – she may have called him her soulmate, at the time. But all this seemed to have happened such a long time ago –

'When did you start smoking then?' he asked, interrupting her stream of memories.

'A little after starting this job. I had a lot of pressure, and I started spending a lot of time in this café, looking for inspiration. I guess coffee and cigarettes just attract each other.'

'Work's still stressful, huh?'

'Well, the _Daily Prophet_ is one of the best newspapers of the wizarding world, so they have high standards, especially in the Muggle-Wizard relationships department, where I work. I'm still the youngest journalist there, and I don't want to blow my luck off.'

'Luck has little to do with your job, Rose. You've always been a very talented girl.'

'Please.'

'I never doubted you would make it, remember? That's all I'm saying.'

'What about you?'

'Writing for a living's a piece of cake, I'm sure you know it.'

'Well, you've always been a very talented boy, Scorpius Malfoy', she said, the corners of her mouth twisting up in a little smile, 'and I know you still are, because your first novel was a beautiful book.'

'Are you seriously going to pretend you read it?'

'I read it three times.'

'Did it remind you of me?'

Rose looked down, took a sip of coffee and then a puff of her cigarette. She didn't want to answer right away. She needed a few seconds to exhale – and inhale a good fresh breath of air after that.

'Of course.' She didn't look at him when she let out the words.

There was a short pause when they both looked away, smoking and drinking coffee in silence. Although the topic of their conversation was tense, the atmosphere around them felt comfortable, blurry, warm, like in a good dream. It soothed them. Prepared them for whatever happened next.

'Do you often think about me?' he said, frowning as if the words were very hard to say and the question very hard to ask.

She blew out a cloud of smoke and looked him in the eye.

'I do. Do you?'

'I never stopped thinking about you.'

He stretched his arm towards her, covered her hand with his. She knew she shouldn't have left her hand on the table next to her cup of coffee. It was too tempting. She should have hid it safely under the table with her other hand. And now his warm hand on hers brought back even more memories, and it felt too good to let them go.

'We've been really stupid in the past, haven't we?'

'Yeah, the past's a bitch.' Here came the crooked smile again, she thought. He'd got to stop being so attractive.

'It was like smoking. We knew it was bad for us, but it felt comforting, safer, and we pretended it would never get at us.'

'But it did. The past of my family, the past of yours. These were silly things to cling on to, but it was easier than taking a decision about us.'

'And now look at us,' she smiled, but it didn't erase the sadness in her eyes. 'The past keeps us up at night and it took away the healthier, best part of our lives.'

He pressed her hand gently with his. Her heartbeat accelerated, as it always did wherever they were close.

'I seriously think I'll never stop loving you, Rose, and I don't know what to do about it.'

Her eyes filled with tears of joy but she fought them back. She had spent seven years avoiding to think that he would ever say those words to her. Now was the time to appreciate them, not cry about them.

'There's only one thing to do, Scorpius.' She lightly squeezed his hand back, and for the first time something like happiness sparkled in her eye. 'Let's quit the past.'

And she put out her cigarette in the ashtray.

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_So, what did you think? Reviews highly appreciated - and if you suggest words that inspire me for the next chapters, I'll dedicate them to you :)_


	4. D: Denial

_Hello everyone !_

_Here come Chapter D. Hope you like it! And if you feel like it, click the review button: your reviews are my inspiration fuel, trust me!_

_Thanks for P.o.T.t.Y.F.a.N.X for the ideas for 'D'. I had one in mind and wrote about it, but I kept some of your ideas for later, you'll see :)_

_**Disclaimer**: like anyone would believe I'm JKR._

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**D for Denial**

_I can't believe I have to walk around the castle with that giant scumball every other night. I seriously _can't believe_ McGonagall made us Head Boy and Girl. I mean OK, _I_ totally deserve it. I'm the best student of Hogwarts. The last one to be as good as me was my mother. They can trust me in any circumstances. He's – he's _nothing_. He doesn't care about anything. He's not bad in class, I admit that. But he's not the _best_. And his behaviour – what about that? The other night when we found that couple of fourth-years snogging in a corner of the fifth floor – he simply laughed benevolently and kept walking, as if he was the most magnanimous man on earth. And I had to do the dirty job, tell the little brats off and send them back to their dorms. It made me feel so bad – not because I wasn't _right_, but because my intervention looked a lot less legitimate with the Head Boy not backing me up._

_Oh, I _hate_ him. I hate him so much. I hate everything about him. His smug little smile, his unruffled self-confidence, even his good looks – yeah Malfoy, don't pretend you don't know you're good-looking, what with all the girls of Hogwarts drooling over you – One day I even asked my mum if Malfoy's father was good-looking too when he was his age, and instead of answering my question she looked at me quite curiously and started asking _me_ why I was asking. Later I found my parents' old yearbook, probably their fifth year's, and I looked Mr Malfoy up: he definitely wasn't as handsome as his son. Malfoy looks a lot like his father, with his platinum-blond hair and fine features – but his eyes sparkle with humour almost all the time, and his face is livelier, more expressive, more…carefree, I'd say. Maybe his pretty face happened the day the purebloods cut their disgusting inbreeding habits and Mr Malfoy married outside the family tree – OK, that was below the belt Rose, but hey, I'm allowed to be mean, it's not as if anyone's listening…_

There was a knock on the door and Rose snapped back to reality. She was standing in front of one of the golden sinks and huge mirrors of the Heads bathroom, hands firmly gripping the edge of the sink. She'd been lost in some kind of internal pep talk before her night patrol with the Head Boy. Since her seventh year had started, those walks with Malfoy had been her least favourite moment of the week.

There was another knock on the door, a little more insistent this time.

'Yes?' Rose hissed, already pissed off.

'Weasley, time for our little walk, remember?' His voice was muffled by the heavy door, but it didn't make it more pleasant for Rose to hear. She hated his deep, confident voice more than anything else.

She crossed the beautiful golden bathroom and opened the door as briskly as she could. Malfoy was standing outside, his shoulder nonchalantly resting against the stone wall, looking dazzling, as usual. Rose felt a strange twinge in her stomach at his sight. Couldn't he look a little more like a regular seventeen-year-old sometimes? It would make him easier to hate.

'Let's go, shall we?' Rose said impatiently, although she was the one who was late. 'We're patroling the sixth floor tonight.'

She sighed. The sixth floor was the worst one: the most boring one. There was only locked classrooms and a minimal amount of hiding places up there – they'd never run into a single rule-breaker, and all that was left to do was either talk to Malfoy or walk in icy silence. After all this time, Rise still hadn't figured out which option she detested the most.

As they made for the dreaded floor, Malfoy walked next to her, at her place, looking absolutely casual – despite his throwing Rose a sideways glance from time to time. _He's really good_, she thought. _He's hiding his feeling much better than I do. To him, our patrols are strictly school duty – or at least he acts like they are. To me, they're school duty with a touch of _I want to hang myself right now_. I wonder how he manages to keep a straight face. It's probably a matter of practice: on our first patrols, he was just as moody and unpleasant as I was._

This change made her curious though, and she decided that asking about it was an appropriate conversation starter with someone she hated.

'Malfoy?'

'Mmh?'

Once again, he surprised her. His voice didn't sound annoyed. Quite on the contrary, he sounded as if he was honestly waiting for what she had to say. Probably a trick to laugh at her later.

'How come you've stopped being a prat with me?'

He snorted and turned to look at her with a smirk.

'Do you miss it?'

'I don't know,' she answered honestly. 'At least then I knew what to expect. Now you're so – normal – it sort of creeps me out.'

'You're a surprising girl, Weasley. When a boy stops being a jerk with you, you wonder why and ask for the old jerk to come back. Why is that?'

Here comes the mocking tone. Well, she asked for it, didn't she?

'That's not what I meant. I simply wondered _why_ you've changed.'

'Before I answer that question, let me ask _you_ one.'

He stopped walking and turned to stare at her. Her heart gave an excited leap and she wondered why various parts of her body reacted so unconventionally around him.

'Which Malfoy do you prefer? The one who's a prat or the one who's nice to you?'

She thought about it for a moment.

'I guess I'd have to say I like the one who's nice better.'

'Is it because it's true, or because you don't want to sound masochistic?'

Her eyes widened, and then she frowned.

'Oh, you think you know me so well, Malfoy,' she growled. 'It's not that I'm masochistic, I was used to the _old_ Malfoy, and now I don't know how to act around you anymore. It's disturbing.'

He chuckled, the corners of his mouth twisting up in a weirdly satisfied smile.

'Don't give me that face, you jerk. There's nothing to be proud of. You know I hate you.'

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, but his smile stayed in place.

'Do you _really_?'

'How can you have any doubt about it? I've hated you since the moment I first saw you. With your stupid ruffled platinum-blond hair – the stupidest hair colour in the _world_ by the way – and your self-confidence despite what your father did during the War… You should be ashamed of yourself, not proud.'

Malfoy's face darkened, and his grey eyes narrowed. Rose shivered involuntarily. She had crossed a line, and he was furious. This wasn't a game anymore, and she regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth: this was the meanest, lowest thing she'd ever said.

'There are two things you seem to ignore, _Rose_,' – the fact that he called her by her name, probably for the first time in their entire life, made her heart sink: he was dead serious here.

'- and I can only think of one reason for it: _denial_.'

'Wha-what are you talking about?'

'First of all, the things you hate about me. You hate me because I'm everything you're not. I come from a famous wizarding family, just like you – except mine is rather _in_famous. But am I my family? No. Am I my father? I certainly am _not_. Do I have to be ashamed of being his son? _No_, because whatever he did in the past, he has redeemed himself, and I love him for this. You hate me because you're self-conscious, and you never came to terms with the fact that you'll never do as great as your parents. You hate me because I could have been like you, but I chose not to.

And secondly, the fact that you _hate_ me.'

He still stared at her with his piercing grey eyes, and as he took a step towards her, Rose instinctively took a step back, and felt the cold stone wall against her back.

She shrank slightly as Malfoy moved a little closer to her. He put one hand against the wall, bringing his face so close to Rose's she could feel his breath on her skin. Her heartbeat accelerated furiously – must be because she felt trapped, that's all – not because he was so close to her his lips suddenly looked irresistible.

'You say you hate me. I used to hate you too. Your stupid red hair, like a flag permanently reminding the rest of us you're the daughter of two of the greatest heroes of our time. Your family, always around you, always protecting you, always looking at me with judging eyes, as if I was scum.

I hated you even more when McGonagall made you Head Girl. So expected, yet so annoying. I'd have to spend all this time with you. I'd have to endure your boring chitchat and your presence for hours every other night.'

He looked down at his feet, taking a deep breath, and a strand of his blond hair tickled Rose's nose. Then he looked up again, straight in her eyes, and it left her breathless. There was an intense look on his face that she'd never seen before.

'You wonder why I've changed. You wonder why I don't hate you anymore. It's because I was in denial before, and I actually couldn't face the fact that my feelings for you had changed. I couldn't avoid it anymore, the fact that you're beautiful, smart, and quite fun despite all your bad mood.'

He paused. Rose was so stunned she just blurted out the words before she could stop herself:

'You think I'm _beautiful_? What on earth _happened_ to you ?'

Malfoy chuckled.

'You're right. Didn't I tell you I was in denial about you? The truth is, I love you. Yes, I love you, Rose, don't look at me like that,' he responded to her widening eyes and gaping mouth, 'and you love me too,' her jaw dropped a little more, 'you just don't know it yet because you're in denial.'

It took Rose a moment to recover from the shock. Then she shook her head and looked at him warily.

'Prove it.'

Malfoy's irresistible smirk returned on his lips.

'Alright,' he simply answered.

And before she knew it, his lips touched hers, his body pressed against hers and her back met the cold hard wall behind her. She was so shocked that the first thing she actually thought of was that being pressed against a cold wall felt really uncomfortable. But then she focused on Malfoy. Malfoy _kissing her_. The very though of it sent an electric shock down her spine – and now she knew why her body reacted that way every time she saw him, touched him, talked to him: she'd been in denial all this time.

And as she threw herself into their kiss, she thought that for once it was quite lucky that nobody was around on the sixth floor that night. Because she didn't want anybody but him to see the way she blushed when she realized she was in love with Scorpius Malfoy.

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_A/N: I have no idea if the sixth floor of the Hogwarts castle is boring - I guess no floor at Hogwarts is ever boring, but I had to make one up for the sake of this story!_


	5. E: Eyes

_Hello everyone!_

_Thanks so much for your reviews, your fav'ing this story or even just reading it :) _

_Some of you suggested ideas for E but I already had one in mind by the time I uploaded chapter D, so... here it is! F is still open for suggestions though (I was thinking Friends, Family, Fear, but I haven't chosen anything yet)_

_Disclaimer: I. DO. NOT. OWN. HARRY. POTTER._

_A/N: Unbetaed._

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**E for Eyes**

'Today,' Firenze announced in his ever-dreamy voice, 'we are going to study the art of reading someone's personality in their eyes.'

Adithi Patil's hand shot in the air, and the Divination teacher had no choice but to let his eager student ask yet another question – girls in the handsome centaur's classes tended to show a lot more interest in getting the teacher's attention than in the subject he taught.

'Is it like mind-reading, Professor?' Adithi squeaked, batting her lashes wildly.

'It is absolutely _not_ like mind-reading,' Firenze answered shortly, and Rose Weasley had to muffle a chuckle behind her hands. Somewhere across the classroom, Scorpius Malfoy had the exact same reaction.

'_Occulomency_, the noble art of eye-reading, has _nothing_ to do with Legilimency, a Dark Art that I will certainly never teach you in this class. Eye-reading is a way to learn about someone's true personality: their likes and dislikes, their qualities and flaws. It's a very useful skill when it comes to discriminate between your friends and your enemies' – Firenze's face hardened, and Rose knew it was in reference to his history: his banishment from the centaurs' clan and his friendship with Dumbledore, who saved his life – 'or when it comes to choose a business partner, a friend, or even a _love_ companion.'

All the girls in the front rows sighed longingly. Rose mimed vomiting behind her desk. Scorpius saw her and chocked on his own repressed laughter.

Firenze looked at him quizzically but resumed his speech:

'Now, I will pair each one of you up with one of your classmates, and you will both have thirty minutes to write down what you've learnt about each other through Occulomency,' Firenze said, before starting to pace up and down the classroom, picking pairs of students for the assignment.

'Adithi with Cassandra… Albus with Debbie… Daniel with Peter… Scorpius with Rose…'

At the sound of their names, Rose and Scorpius's eyes met. They gave each other an embarassed little smile – they didn't really know each other very well and the perspective of staring into a relative stranger's eyes for thirty minutes seemed like an awkward thing to do.

Rose sighed as she watched Scorpius cross the classroom to come and sit next to her. After all, the assignment would be more fruitful if it was done with somebody she barely knew, rather than with Albus for instance. She'd always liked Scorpius, she thought he was fun and witty – as fun and witty as someone you only see in class can be – and sometimes she wondered why they never took time to know more about each other and become friends. Which now she came to think of it, only made the assignment _more_ uncomfortable.

Scorpius sat down at the table and they faced each other for what felt like a very long, stretched-out second.

'So…' he started, looking obviously as uncomfortable as she did. 'Are we really supposed to stare into each other's eyes until we find some sign that this class is definitely useless?'

Rose giggled. The deadpan tone with which he said that was just too funny.

'Er – I guess.'

'Let's get started then,' he said over-cheerfully, leaning towards her so as to be closer to her face, 'I wouldn't like to miss the apparition of Halley's Comet in there.'

Rose burst into giggles again. She was starting to feel like she had lost all dignity by now, laughing at all of Scorpius's jokes, but she couldn't help it, and it felt so good not to be the best-behaved student of the class for once.

They started staring into each other's eyes, as asked by Firenze, but soon the tension was unbearable: they both started giggling, first quietly, then so hard they were actually shaking with laughter.

They got a few disapproving glances from the girls sitting nearby and a comment from Firenze ('And what does laughing tell you about your personalities, Scorpius and Rose?'), and they tried to calm down and get back to work. Which wasn't very easy as staring in each other's eyes _was_ what started their fit of laughter in the first place.

They took deep breaths and avoided each other's eyes until their breathing was completely steady. Then Scorpius threw a careful glance in Rose's direction.

'Here's an idea, seeing as our first attempt at learning more about each other failed pathetically' – Rose bit her lip to avoid giggling again – 'why don't you tell me a few things about you, and I tell you a couple of facts about me, and we write all this down and call it a day?'

'As I'm pretty sure that I'll learn more about you by actually _talking_ to you, I'm all for your plan.'

'So, Rose _Weasley_,' Scorpius grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment and slightly leant towards her, accurately imitating a journalist interviewing a celebrity, 'what are your dislikes?'

'Oh, you're not going to like what you hear,' Rose laughed, 'I dislike _Quidditch_.'

Scorpius made a mock shocked face, which only made Rose laugh harder.

'How in Merlin's name is that _possible_? You're the first person I know who doesn't like Quidditch. There must be a misunderstanding.'

'No there's not. It's just that nobody ever told you they didn't like Quidditch because you're the Slytherin Seeker and you're obviously obsessed with that stupid sport,' Rose answered, playfully sticking out her tongue.

'I'm going to write down _honest_,' Scorpius scribbled something on his parchement, 'as soon as I've decided whether it's a quality or an annoying flaw.'

'What about your qualities, Scorpius _Malfoy_?' Rose asked quickly to avoid giggling again – she _enjoyed _the giggling but she didn't think it was appropriate for a girl to laugh so much at every joke a boy she barely knew made – 'our fathers don't seem to like each other so I can't say I've only heard good things about you.'

'Let me think.' He looked thoughtfully outside the window and Rose could tell he wasn't playing anymore. She also noticed he had grey eyes – she'd always thought his eyes were green because she couldn't really tell from a distance, but Scorpius's unfamiliar eye colour came as a good surprise. Another thing to write down, just in case.

'I guess I'm a rather smart person, which enables me to tell who's good for me and who's not without doing some stupid Divination magic trick on them.'

Rose held back another giggle and said jockingly:

'That's quite a statement Scorpius.'

'I'm not boasting about how brilliant I am. I think you're rather brilliant too.'

'How can you tell I am?' she answered before she could stop and think about the embarassing blush appearing on her cheeks.

'Well we have a few classes together,' he said as if he was explaining something very obvious to someone who had a little too much trouble understanding it, 'and you're quite good, to say the least.'

'But outside the classroom, what makes you think I _am_ brilliant?'

'You may not be a Quidditch fan, which is unforgivable by the way, but you're funny. Which puts you on my _smart_ list without consultation.'

'I was kidding before. I think you must be brilliant too. I barely know you and I'm already having a good time.'

'Great minds think alike,' he joked, winking at her.

And without their paying real attention to what they were doing, they spent the rest of the thirty minutes staring into each other's eyes indeed.

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_This one is a little shorter and the end leaves more to the imagination I guess... Tell me what you thought about it! Next chapter's on its way as soon as I decide which way I'm going to go..._


	6. F: Family

_Hello everyone!_

_Chapter F is up - and F stands for Family, as requested by **H.L.** and **yellow 14**._

_Disclaimer: not making any money from this_

_A/N: Unbetaed_

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**F for Family**

Rose Weasley had always wanted a big family. She had always dreamt about the family she would have one day. She didn't really care about having a career or a job with lots of responsibilities. She'd have a good job, sure, but she'd also have a family. She knew she wouldn't save the world – her parents had already done that, and at the end of the day, what made them really happy was not being called heroes or having fancy jobs or a lot of money. What made them happy was to gather around the big kitchen table of the Burrow with their family and spend some time all together.

Of course, Rose never told anyone about this. She knew people wouldn't understand. Everyone seemed to expect her to achieve great things, when all she really wanted was to perpetuate the happiness and safety she had always felt when she was with her family. A family, a safe haven, the most precious thing her parents had handed her down: that's what she wanted to have when she'd grow up.

***

Scorpius Malfoy had always hated the very _concept_ of family. To him, family only meant trouble. It was like having to wear clothes you didn't choose and that didn't fit you every single bloody day of your life. His own family counted names such as Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy and he had never fully understood why people kept making him pay for the name he was born with, although he had nothing to do with what had happened _before_ he was born.

He had been protected from all this until his first day at Hogwarts. His parents had always been loving and caring. His grandfather Lucius died when he was too young to remember and apart from his grandmother Narcissa he had never been in touch with his father's side of the family. But then he went to Hogwarts and he realized that _Malfoy_ didn't mean the same to him as it did to pretty much everyone else. He'd been pranked on so many times in his first year, and even spat on once by an older Gryffindor whose spiteful face hurt him more than his spiteful gesture, that he came to hate the very reason why everyone hated him without even knowing him.

Nowadays no one dared do that kind of things to him. He had learnt how to fight back since his first year - and he had fought hard, he had fought ugly, until nobody dared come near him anymore. Scorpius Malfoy made everyone believe he was untouchable, unbreakable. And everyone believed it. Well, _almost_ everyone.

***

Because Rose Weasley had a plan in store for him and he didn't know it yet. Rose Weasley wanted a family, but there was one thing she wanted even more in the world – to erase that eternal look of despair in Scorpius Malfoy's eyes. Because it seemed she was the only one to see it – even _he_ couldn't see it – and it broke her heart every day, and she thought of him every night.

But when she sat next to him in the library one evening, when she sat where the afternoon sun was still shining and made her hair look like fire, he knew it too. He knew it so well he didn't even stop to wonder how come she'd never sat next to him before, how come he'd never talked to her before.

Since the moment Rose walked into his life, she became his family, and the endless sadness never returned in his eyes. And Scorpius became Rose's family, a family whose two members were enough to fulfill all her dreams of a safe haven.

A family of two, who would one day be topped up by their own children - strawberry blond children running around and playing in the garden of the Burrow with dozen of red and brown-haired cousins.

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_Umm I'm not very happy with this one. Review and tell me what you thought about it!_

_Anyway... polls are open for G! Should it be _Generation_, _Good Gone Girl_, _Gryffindor_... or something else? Feel free to give me your wildest ideas in reviews or PMs :)_


	7. G: Good Gone Girl

_Hello everyone,_

_As no one said which story you wanted for 'G', I took the liberty to choose the title. It's inspired by a song by Mika - but it doesn't have much to do with the contents of the song though._

_Disclaimer: I'm not JKR (just take a look at my profile picture ;))_

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**G for Good Gone Girl**

Rose Weasley was a good girl. You could even say, more accurately, that she was _the_ good girl. Nobody complained about the other Potter and Weasley children really; but Rose - Rose was _spotless_. She was a model student at Hogwarts (Outstanding was the only grade she ever received), she was perfectly well-behaved, she had manners and she was the most even-tempered person you'd ever meet.

That is why everybody was taken by surprise the day she went bad.

Rose being a bad girl was an oxymoron, to say the least. She'd always been so sweet and quiet. But now she was reckless and wild, laughing too hard, sleeping too little, looking too happy, hanging out with the badest boy of Hogwarts.

Come to think of it, the changes in Rose's behaviour actually happened when she met the badest boy of Hogwarts - that is to say _Scorpius Malfoy_. She had never spoken to him – following her father's advice – before the day they were both sent for in McGonagall's office (Scorpius for being caught smoking in an empty classroom, Rose for catching him during her Prefect duty). McGonagall lectured Scorpius and gave him detention. And while she did, Rose couldn't take her eyes off him. His face was such an hilarious mixture of fake remorse and real amusement that the very sight of it instantely made Rose curious of him.

When they walked out of the Headmistress's office, Rose couldn't help but ask him:

'Don't you feel a _little_ sorry for what you did?' She sounded interested, not moralizing.

'Why should I feel sorry?' he answered lazily, but she noticed a sparkle betraying surprise in his eye – Rose Weasley wasn't famous for talking to rule-breakers. 'I had a good time, I enjoyed my cigarette, and all I got is a two-hour detention. If you want my opinion, McGonagall is getting softer with the years. I was expecting worse of her.'

'But did you really have to _do_ this? Couldn't you wait for our next trip to Hogsmeade for instance?' _Or just quit smoking_, she wanted to add, but something stopped her from going against Malfoy too much.

'Do you really want me to spell it out for you, Rose?' he said, sounding bored – but the intensity of his gaze on her made her feel it was just a facade. 'I bet you do, you're such a good girl, you'll never know what I'm talking about.'

_Good girl_ had never been pejorative in Rose's mind – until now. She couldn't put words on this feeling, but the way he had said that just hurt her.

'Yes, Scorpius, _please_ tell me why you enjoyed your cigarette so much,' she answered, trying to sound aloof, but he noticed the hurt edge in her voice and his face darkened a little.

'It's because everything tastes or feels better when you break rules to get it,' he said. 'That's why you and me would be so amazing together.'

Rose was too shocked to say anything. They walked in silence and reached the entrance of the Slytherin dorms. Scorpius left her without another word and without another glance.

But from this moment on Rose Weasley became a rule-breaker. She only broke rules for Scorpius though, and that's how she realized he was right: because Scorpius Malfoy was the _ultimate_ rule to break, the rule that prevented a Weasley girl from ever dating a Malfoy boy. Kissing him was forbidden, lying with him in the sun was bad, staying awake with him all night was _so_ not well-mannered, breaking school rules while holding his hand was truly reckless. Yes, he was right, they _were_ amazing together – no one seemed to deny it, even Professor McGonagall, who often lectured them for climbing up to the Astronomy Tower at night - they liked gazing at the stars together – with a half-smile she had trouble hiding.

Rose Weasley was a bad girl now. And she had never been happier.

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_Reviews are much appreciated, as usual :) Click the green button at the bottom of the page and tell me what's on your mind! _

_I already know what 'H' will stand for, but what would you like for 'I'?_


	8. H: Hat

_Hello everyone,_

_It's very late where I am (almost one in the morning) but I felt like writing this chapter anyway. I hope it's worth it 'cause I'm going to be soooo tired tomorrow at work. Oh, and as I said before: reviews are my inspiration fuel, they make me happy and they keep me writing... So review :)_

_Disclaimer: characters and places are JKR's. Only the plot is mine, and I'm not making any profit of it._

_A/N: Unbetaed._

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**H for (Sorting) Hat**

'MALFOY, SCORPIUS!'

A little boy with silver-blond unruly hair and a hard, well-resolved gleam in his grey eyes walked forward in a rather quiet Great Hall. He grabbed the battered old pointed hat on the high stool, climbed up and sat where the hat had been. The way he jammed the hat resolutely on his head was meant to look confident.

The hat was too big for Scorpius's eleven-year-old head, and it fell in his eyes. It was very dark in there, and Scorpius could hear his own quick breath much louder than usual. He lost all his fake self-confidence at once. He had tried very hard not to pay attention to the unprecedented violence of his heartbeat until now, but in the hollow darkness of the Sorting Hat he couldn't avoid his sensations any longer.

'So…' a small voice coming from inside of the hat whispered – and although Scorpius was prepared he couldn't help but start a little – 'we meet at last, Mr Malfoy.'

'You – you _know_ me?' Scorpius thought, and somehow he knew the Hat could hear him.

'I don't know _you_ personally, but I've known all the Malfoys since your name was first called in this Hall. Since the day your ancestor Creon Malfoy was sorted in Slytherin, every single Malfoy has followed the same path path and been a student of this house.'

'Does that mean I'm a Slytherin too?' Scorpius thought, a apprehensive note in his mental voice. At this point he wasn't sure whether he was scared to be in Slytherin or _not_ to be in Slytherin.

'Hmm. For the first time in centuries I am not sure where to put a Malfoy child, you see,' the Hat said thoughfully. 'You may not know it, but you're very different from your family, though you have the same white-blond hair.'

'I know,' Scorpius thought quietly, but the Hat picked up on this nevertheless.

'I see a brilliant mind here. I have no doubt you'll prove you're loyal to the people you believe in, too. You're brave, very brave indeed, Mr Malfoy, for you'll dare break the oldest rules – old as your family – to be loyal to who you truly love. And this is probably the most noble and courageous deed of all. That is why I make you a GRYFFINDOR!'

As the Hat shouted the last word to the entire Hall, Scorpius's heart gave a leap. He tore the hat from his head and looked towards the Gryffindor table, at the faces of those who would be his family for the seven years to come. A baffled silence settled on the Hall and Scorpius made to get off the stool, feeling slightly sick. But someone among the Gryffindors cheered and suddenly there was an explosion of yells and cheers and laughter – Gryffindors seemed to find it simply _brilliant_ that the scared-looking son of an ex-Death Eater would be so different as to be sorted in the house of the Lion. And Scorpius ran down to his new table and found a sit among all the other cheering first years. He couldn't help but grin proudly. He was happy to have been Sorted, but most of all he was happy that the Hat had confirmed what he'd always known deep down: while he gazed at the pretty red-haired girl who moved toward the stool in the middle of the Hall, he thought that if he was meant to break the old rules, then he had just gotten started.

***

'WEASLEY, ROSE!'

A timid-looking girl with a curtain of shiny, bright-red curly hair clashing with her shy appearance took a few steps forward and reached the stool where the Hat sat, shabby-looking yet intimidating. She lifted it, sat on the stool and put the Hat on. She moved a little clumsily, as if she was very aware of all the people staring at her. Clearly this made her even more uncomfortable.

The inside of the Sorting Hat was dark and had a musty smell, but Rose couldn't help but relax: at least she was safe here, away from the stares. She didn't know how long her Sorting would last, she didn't know what its outcome would be, but she didn't mind. It felt better to be here than to be in the crowd of first years, waiting anxiously in the Hall to be sorted.

'Hello, Miss Weasley,' a small voice whispered in her ear – it was the Hat talking to her, but she was expecting it – 'yes indeed, two very interesting personalities tonight, well am I lucky.'

First Rose wondered who the other one was, and then she wondered whether she did have an interesting personality – she'd always been so quiet and shy compared to her flamboyant family. But the Hat only answered her second question.

'Yes, Miss Weasley, you think you grew up in the shadow of a much too talented, much too remarkable family, don't you? Let me surprise you: you're talented and you're remarkable in your very own way. You just never got the chance to realise it because your subtle personality can be easily overshadowed by louder, gaudier ones. You're not just _another_ Weasley child.'

'Does that mean I'm not a Gryffindor?' Rose thought, panicking. What would her family say? Every single one of them had been in Gryffindor, and that's where all her cousins were. Yet, somehow, the idea didn't surprise her as much as it should have.

'Well,' the Hat seemed to stop and think, 'it's been a while since I've hesitated to put a Weasley in Gryffindor, but as I usually follow my instincts… You're brave, yes, brave girl – very intelligent too, like your mother – patient, very patient as you wait to achieve your goals… and achieving your goals is the most important to you, no matter how long it takes, no matter what you have to do to defend your ideas… you have a dark side you shouldn't be afraid of, because it's the one that will bring you to accomplish groundbreaking things in your life… Breathtaking, rule-breaking things… You're unconventional, Miss Weasley, and you should be proud of it. Therefore you will be in SLYTHERIN!'

Rose froze on the spot, listening to the deafening silence that followed the Hat's last word. Then she slowly removed the Hat from her head, and looked around. Everyone was staring at her with gaping mouths, even her cousins at the Gryffindor table. And suddenly, she felt herself swell with pride, and she got off the stool and walked towards the table of her new house. She was different, she'd always known it, and this was the confirmation she'd been waiting for her entire life. As all the Slytherins clapped and cheered and patted her back to welcome her, she looked over the Gryffindor table and grinned at the blond boy who looked strangely out of place there, just like she did here. And it made her happy, and strongly self-confident for the first time in her life, to know that she was the symbol of a new generation where houses didn't mean the same as before and where every goal she set for herself would one day become true – if she really put her mind to it.

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_So, what did you think? Reviews welcome - as well as ideas for titles for the next chapters, 'I', 'J', 'K'... Let me know! _


	9. I: Iceskating

_Hello everyone!_

_Thanks for your reviews and thanks for adding this story to your favs and alerts! Let me know what you think of the stories, what kind of stories you'd like to read... The more reviews I get, the more motivated I am to update often (I'm not begging for reviews, I'm just stating a fact: it's more encouraging to write when there's feedback from your readers, right? ;))_

_The idea of this chapter is from MaryandMerlin, thanks!_

_On we go, then,_

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**I for Iceskating**

It was just before Christmas. Hogwarts was covered with a thick white coat of snow, sparkling in the pale winter sun.

As usual on Sundays, everybody was outside, snowball-fighting, snowmen-making (most of the snowmen looked as though they represented various members of the Hogwarts teaching staff, and some had been bewitched to actually tell off students or yell 'Detention!' when you walked by) or simply enjoying the beautiful weather.

Rose was sitting under the leafless weeping willow tree at the edge of the frozen lake, warm under a thick blue woolen jumper her grandmother had knitted her and a cosy warm winter cloak. She had a book in her gloved hands, but she was only pretending to read: her cousins were iceskating on the lake and what she was really doing was eyeing them with envy. They seemed so confident, so happy. They zoomed around in artistic circles, laughing and encouraging each other happily – Fred and James occasionally throwing themselves into a frenzied race against each other – and Rose could only imagine how good it must to be so free, so bold – to be one of the cool people of Hogwarts for a change.

But she didn't know how to iceskate, just like she generally wasn't good at sports. Her family loved to make fun of her lack of outdoor abilities. She pretended to laugh about it, saying she had more brains than muscles. But deep down, sometimes – not all the time, just _sometimes_ – she wished she could be like them: carefree, fun and a little reckless, just so the boys would notice her a little more.

She was lost in those negative thoughts when a voice speaking close to her brought her back to reality.

'Wanna join me?'

Actually, it sounded as if the speaker was talking to her. She turned her head in that direction, wondering who it was – all the people who usually talked to her were on the lake, wearing ice skates and having too much fun to bother with her.

She started when she recognised Scorpius Malfoy.

She was even more surprised to see him grinning at her and holding his hand out to her. Scorpius Malfoy had never spoken to her before. He'd never been nice to her. In fact, she wasn't sure he had ever been nice to anybody. Scorpius Malfoy was too cool to be nice. He was too cool to speak to people he didn't usually speak to. And he was certainly far too cool to speak to Rose, the least cool girl of Hogwarts.

She was at a loss for words.

'Er – _join_ you?' was all that she could manage to say. _And the only thing I'm supposed to be is _smart, she thought bitterly immediately after the words left her mouth.

But Scorpius didn't seem to notice, or mind, the trouble she was in.

'If you'd like to,' he continued, as if she'd never interrupted him with her unwitty question, 'I've been thinking of iceskating on the lake since it froze over, and as all your family is already there, I wondered if you'd like to come with me - otherwise I'd feel like a trespasser' He gave her a smile so genuine yet so confident he hardly looked like someone who would care about trespassing. But still, Rose thought, it was nice of him to pretend he minded.

Scorpius Malfoy's presence was more pleasant than Rose would have expected. He was so kind and casual that she forgot to feel self-conscious. She forgot that boys weren't usually interested in her because she was a sweet bookworm and not a cool _femme fatale_. It was so unexpectedly natural for him to stand next to her and speak to her that she took the situation as casually as he did. The only thing was, it implied a dilemma Rose wasn't ready to solve: either stay with Scorpius and go iceskate on the lake, or stay under the willowtree iceskate-free but alone.

She threw a discreet sideways glance at Scorpius, who was waiting next to her, watching the iceskaters circling around the lake. His tousled white-blond hair was shining in the sun and Rose felt the urge to ruffle it a little more. His face was turned towards the sun, his eyes half-closed, his aristocratic features delicately highlighted by the winter light. Rose didn't even stop to think about how mismatched they must look, sitting together at the edge of the lake - what she would have done normally if a random boy would have come around and talked to her - which had never happened yet. The only thing she knew was that she wanted to spend more time with him, and if that time involved iceskating, hell, she'd do it anyway.

'I don't have iceskates,' she confessed, and she was surprised her voice was so small, so apologetic. There was nothing to feel embarassed about, was it?

'That we can arrange,' Scorpius smiled, and Rose felt her insides squirm funnily. Was it anticipation of the dreaded moment when she'd step clumsily on the ice and make a complete fool of herself, or was it simply the warmth that radiated from Scorpius and seemed to pour from him to her? She never felt such mixed emotions before.

As she examined her body's reactions, Scorpius took out his wand and cut two branches of the willow tree. He tapped them with his wand and Rose saw them morph into a pair of iceskates. Scorpius picked them up and handed them to her.

'Here. Go ahead, put them on!' he said encouragingly.

Rose attached the straps around her boots and made to stand up. It was rather difficult to find her balance with the damn skates under her soles. Scorpius seemed to notice and hold her arm to lift her up gently. It was a simple gesture, yet it moved Rose more than she expected: it was something a friend would do for another friend, something few people would have done for Rose, and Scorpius wasn't even her friend. At this very moment it stroke her than with someone capable of such a considerate, kind gesture she had nothing to fear, even when she was fighting hard not to lose her balance like she was right now.

Scorpius took her hand and she felt his warm palm against hers despite the layers of gloves between them. They took a few steps together and a careful last one as they set their feet on the frozen surface of the lake. Then Scorpius turned to face her and took both her hands in his. Rose looked at him sheepishly then looked down.

'I'm sorry,' she said - and she really felt sorry now, sorry he was about to find out she was a fraud and unworthy of the cool Weasley gang - 'I don't know how to iceskate.'

Scorpius stared at her for a second, his face totally blank, then burst iout laughing so suddenly she almost lost her balance for good.

'You don't know how to iceskate? And you _apologize_ for it?'

'Well, yes!' she snapped back, offended, 'you came to me asking me to introduce you to my family so that you could iceskate with them, and I don't even know how to stand on these damn things! And now I'm frightened because I don't know how to get back on the ground, and I feel stupid because you assumed I was as cool as the others, and now you know I'm not!'

She looked away, upset yet slightly ashamed of her outburst. But what could she do? She _was_ scared: the only thing standing between her and ice-cold waters was a thin layer of ice.

To her surprise, Scorpius didn't look angry: he merely chuckled, and said:

'I asked _you_ because I wanted to iceskate with _you_, not with your family, Rose.'

It took her a moment to process what he had just said, as she heard him add:

'And I think not knowing how to iceskate is bloody cool, actually.'

Rose looked up incredulously into his smiling gray eyes.

'You do?'

'Sure,' he answered. 'That way, I can teach you.'

And he sounded so expectant she couldn't help but smile back. Yeah, he was right. She _was_ cool. And he was the only one who had ever made her feel that way.


	10. J: Jealousy

_Hey everyone!_

_Two updates in one day. The title is another good idea from MaryandMerlin (thanks!! this one was _really_ fun to write). Please review, and let me know what you'd like to read in the next chapters. The more you do, the sooner I'll update, I promise :)_

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**J for Jealousy**

Rose was sitting on the couch by the fire in the Ravenclaw common room, bringing the final touch to the essay on werewolves Professor Lambros had assigned the sixth years last Tuesday. She was rather happy with what she had written so far, and she was about to write a well-documented, smart conclusion when someone slumped on the other side of the couch, _harumph_ing loudly to get her attention.

She turned her head towards the intruder, clearly annoyed to be disturbed in such inspired times. She was about to give said intruder a piece of her mind when her bad mood went to pieces: next to her was sitting a grumpy-looking Scorpius Malfoy, deliberately avoiding her eye.

Rose was rather surprised to see him here, especially in this state of frustration. It was very unlike him to show anyone any kind of emotions, let alone sulk in front of her in such an overt way. She liked Scorpius the way you like a schoolmate who always displays an air of sameless smugness although you're sure deep down he's good at heart. She never really bought his self-declared superiority – they had spent too much time talking and giggling themselves stupid in the back of Professor Slughorn's dungeon for her to believe he thought so highly of himself. In Rose's opinion, Scorpius was a good, humble, fun to be around person. Admittedly, she had only begun to think so in the first days of her sixth year, when Slughorn assigned them seats without asking their opinion and she was teamed up with him for the rest of the year. Before that, she thought he was an complete arse, just like everyone else around her did. But she didn't anymore now they were acquainted. So she really couldn't see why he acted like she had just insulted him.

She turned to face him, an eyebrow raised quizzically. He pretended to stare intently at the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, but Rose caught him slipping her a sideways glance and she exclaimed, pointing her finger at him in a histrionic gesture: 'AHA! Busted!'

Scorpius looked at her with his usual haughty smirk which, coupled with his grumpy expression, was really hard to take seriously. Rose forced back a snicker and kept eye contact until he had to break it and resume his staring at the statue.

'I wasn't looking at you, Weasley,' he let out spitefully. But Rose still didn't buy it: he was there for her, and he wanted her to know he was irritated, although she didn't know why he was.

'_Please_. You're not _that_ good an actor, _Scorpius_,' she replied, enphasising his first name to remind him they were still friendly even though he was acting like an arse. 'Now tell me what's wrong with you and we'll try to fix it, alright?'

She smiled internally at her soothing, motherly tone. It felt like speaking to a child who was about to throw a tantrum.

'Nothing's wrong,' he shrugged again, looking grumpier than ever. 'But speaking of you, how's Scamander?'

Lysander Scamander was in their year and in Gryffindor. He was handsome, an excellent Quidditch player and a rather good student – although Rose beat him, but well, she did beat about everyone in her year except, occasionally, Scorpius. Incidentally, Lysander happened to be Rose's new boyfriend – they had started going out two days before. Rose had always liked him as a friend, but now she was actually dating him she liked him less and less as a boyfriend: she thought he was a little too formal and boring by her standards. She'd never had fun with him the way she had with Scorpius during their Potions classes for instance. And fun was the most important component of a relationship, if you asked her. That, and her boyfriend's good looks and quick wits. As she watched Scorpius's handsome features – despite his frown - lit by the fire, understanding downed on her.

She stared at him, gaping.

'Scorpius… Are you _jealous _?'

His eyebrows raised in surprise but he quickly mastered his old frown back.

'I am _not_!' he retorted in a very childish, un-Malfoy way. His very denial proved Rose right.

'You _are_!' she insisted, repressed giggles only too audible in her voice. It sounded just too incredible that cold, aloof Scorpius Malfoy was jealous of Rose Weasley's boyfriend. Apart from their chatting sessions in Slughorn's class, he and Rose had never interacted much, let alone take time for feelings to develop between them.

And yet… yet, the thought of making Scorpius jealous was oddly exciting. Rose felt a very surprising warmth flow through her veins as she pondered the possibilities. Oh, it was risky business messing with Malfoy, she knew it. But wasn't it far more exciting than dating dull Lysander? The chill of adventure was just too appealing.

She stretched her hand and touched Scorpius's arm. He squirmed uncomfortably – Scorpius Malfoy, uncomfortable? Because of _her_? The very thought made her giddy – but he kept holding her gaze.

'You shouldn't be,' she said, her voice lower than before, a excited grin playing on her lips.

'Alright, _fine_, I'm jealous!' Scorpius blurted out angrily. He only looked more attractive, and Rose started imagining the possibilities the couch could offer if… But let's not digress. She fixed her gaze on him, waiting for him to finish what he obviously had been waiting to say for all this time.

'It's just that… what do you see in him, Rose? I thought we really hit it off together.'

'Oh come _on_!' Rose didn't expect the confession to turn out this way. 'You only talk to me during Potions! That barely counts as friendship or – whatever you thought this was!'

'Because you're always surrounded by relatives, and when you're in Ravenclaw tower you're drowning in a crowd of friends! When am I supposed to spend time with you except during Potions?'

The man had a point, Rose admitted. She had not seen things that way.

'Does it mean – would you like us to spend more time together?'

'Well, _yeah_!' Scorpius replied, sounding more worked up than ever, and his smoldering eyes clearly added _and could you please ditch Scamander while you're at it_ - but he didn't say the words out loud.

'I'd like that, too,' she said, her voice now a shy whisper. Saying those words felt more intimate than everything she had ever told Lysander.

She got up, rolled up her essay and was ready to leave when she stopped just in front of Scorpius, who was still sitting on the couch and still looking sulky – Rose assumed he didn't want to lose face, although his eyes sparkled with secret satisfaction. She touched his cheek and murmured: 'You don't have to be jealous anymore. Promise me.'

And she bent down so that her lips lightly brushed against his.

'I'm not jealous,' he said stubbornly – 'I'm just stating a fact: there's no use wasting time with other people when you and me are meant to be, _Weasley_.'

And Rose couldn't help but laugh, because he was back to his smug, smirking self. And she knew it was just a facade, because deep down he was good and sensitive and smart, and they belonged together.

* * *

_So, what did you think? Reviews, feedback, ideas are always appreciated, thanks! :)_

_xoxo, LPC_


	11. K: Kiss

_Hello everyone !_

_I'm in a hurry because I'm leaving for the week-end, so this one's unbetaed, so sorry! Well if you spot any mistakes, let me know and I'll correct them when I'm back! Please review! Reviews are good! reviews make me happy! Reviews might tell me what 'L' is going to be!_

_Hope you enjoy this one,_

_Cheers, _

_LPC_

* * *

**K for Kiss**

Scorpius Malfoy had kissed a lot of girls. A few times in very drunken parties he had even kissed boys. He had kissed people at Hogwarts but he also had kissed Muggle girls just to check if they tasted different. He had kissed a French girl once during a family trip to Paris, and all his friends had been green with envy when he'd told them. Scorpius wasn't difficult in his choice of who he would kiss next: what mattered to him was the chill of novelty, the texture of new lips crushed against his, the taste of an unknown mouth, the innovative ways in which a tongue would curl around his. Scorpius was just a curious boy, that's what he usually retorted to people who called him cynical. Sometimes when he was alone in his bed after a kissing session with yet another stranger, he questioned this little hobby, amazed by the sheer number of his conquests. he usually came to the conclusion that so far he hadn't kissed anyone he would want to kiss again, let alone forever. Thus he had to keep looking – and kissing – until he found the one kisser he would never want to share with anyone else.

***

Rose Weasley had kissed a lot of boys. A few times she had even kissed girls on a dare, or just because they had inviting lips. She had kissed a lot of people at Hogwarts and she had also kissed her young, good-looking Muggle neighbour – the one who lived opposite their flat in London and who Lily had a slight crush for – she wanted to make sure Muggles were good kissers despite their lack of magical powers. During the Quidditch World Cup last year, she had managed to kiss Erico Garcia, the most attractive and talented player of the Brasilian Quidditch team – and all her friends had gone crazy when she'd told them afterwards.  
Rose never lost an opportunity to kiss someone new: she loved the chill of discovery, exploring a new set of lips, learning about her kisser's personality through the way he kissed her – gently, manly, hesitantly, awkwardly, confidently – tasting a new warm breath. To her, kissing was for fun, but it was also a rather enlightening experience. Rose was just a curious girl, and she didn't abide by stupid double standards that made her a so-called slut when a boy with similar 'interests' would be admired as a womanizer. She wasn't doing anything wrong, she wasn't hurting herself or the people she kissed.  
Sometimes when she daydreamed in class she wondered what the point was in kissing so many different people. She already knew the answer, although she hated to admit it : she hadn't met the one she wouldn't get enough of, the one she would want to kiss forever. That's why she was still searching for him.

***

That night, the music was loud and swinging, the light were dim and the entire Slytherin common room was already littered with Chocolate Frogs wrapping papers and empty Butterbeer bottles. Slytherin's was, as usual, the best unofficial party of the year at Hogwarts.

The loud rock tune gave way to a slower, more romantic song. Couples began to move closer and soon the room was filled with people slowly rocking in pairs to the music, looking into each other's goo-goo eyes.

A sudden yell made everyone freeze on the spot.

Emiglia Harshley, a tall, dark-haired Slytherin girl, was dragging her boyfriend by the hand while glaring murderously at Rose Weasley.

'You BITCH!' she screamed in a hysterical high-pitched voice, 'kissing my boyfriend! And when I'm right _here_! You really have no shame, you really don't care you're such a whore, do you?'

Rose didn't look at all offended. Actually, she looked rather amused by Emiglia's outburst. She retorted with a little smile:

'You didn't seem so prompt to judge me a few minutes ago when you were in that corner kissing Scorpius Malfoy.'

Emiglia's face fell several inches and color withdrew from her face as her boyfriend cried in a very comical, trembling voice:

'You kissed Scorpius Malfoy?!'

'You kissed Rose Weasley!'

Rose was not the only one to find the scene entertaining, because part of their audience started to laugh as well.

Emiglia looked away from her boyfriend's hurt and offended face and turned to Rose in a howl of rage.

'YOU! Come here!'

She grabbed Rose's wrist and dragged her to a corner of the room where a tall, very handsome boy with platinum-blond hair stood. Obviously, he had not lost a word of the argument which he played a major role in, and this fact just made him smirk in a way that Rose had never noticed, and that she immediately found disturbingly attractive.

Emiglia let go of Rose when they came face to face with Scorpius. She said in a mock formal voice, gesturing theatrically as if introducing two strangers at a cocktail party:

'Scorpius Malfoy, let me introduce you Rose Weasley, the biggest slut Hogwarts has ever hosted. Rose Weasley, please meet Scorpius Malfoy, who is probably the only person alive who's more slutty than you.'

She turned her back to them as briskly as she came and strode angrily towards her boyfriend, who seemed to recoil slightly in the middle of the common room at her sight.

Rose and Scorpius looked at each other for a second, then burst out laughing together.

'Nice to meet you, Rose,' he said, holding out his hand.

'Nice to meet you too, Scorpius,' she answered, shaking his hand and enjoying the fact that his palm was soft and warm.

'So I guess we both have the same bad reputation, if even Harshley knows about it,' Scorpius shrugged, and his smug, handsome face told Rose he wasn't sorry _at all_ for his reputation.

'Funny though, that we never really got to talk to each other before, although we practically live in the same place,' Rose mused thoughtfully.

'_Well_,' Scorpius gave her a half-smile that made her insides melt, 'I know a way we can make up for lost time.'

His face was suddenly so close to her, his eyes burning hers, his mouth so terribly enticing that she closed the gap between them and kissed him.

They kissed. They kissed until they lost track of time. They didn't notice people staring at them and pointing, and the whispers and the intringued faces that surrounded them. After what felt like a minute, an hour, or eternity, they broke apart. They stared in each other's eyes, dazed, amazed. This had never happened to them before.

And after that moment they never stayed away from each other – because they both had found the one that they would want to kiss forever.


	12. L: Line

_Helloooo everyone!_

_I'm back in the city after a nice little weekend inhaling fresh air in the country for a change. I wrote this one in one go when I got back to my computer :D_

_As usual: thanks to all my reviewers, and please, if you read this story and want to share a thought with me, go ahead, feel free to review! Suggestions for 'M' are welcome too :)_

_**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter's not mine._

_**A/N**: unbetaed_

* * *

**L for Line**

'Look, if you need help with your Transfiguration homework, just ask me, Hugo. You know I'm always happy to help.'

Rose and Hugo Weasley were walking the sunlit corridor that ran alongside the Hogwarts library. Rose's whole attitude and body language screamed _older sister _while Hugo seemed visibly annoyed.

'Yeah, _too_ happy, actually,' he groaned. 'If I did that you would go on and on about how devoted a sister you are, and how helpless I am, and how good it is I asked you because you always have top marks in Transfiguration – like we need to be reminded of this even _more_ often.'

'That's so unfair!' Rose protested indignantly. 'I put your own good before my studying time and you imply that I'm actually selfish? What kind of brother are you?'

'A lucid one?' Hugo ventured sarcastically.

'Oh, _come on_,' Rose sneered, 'if only you were as good at Transfiguration as I am –'

'Then what, Weasley?' drawled a familiar voice behind them, 'you would ask your little bro to help you change your bloody freckles into pimples, maybe? That way, they might look more _normal_, and not like old marks of dragonpox boils.'

Rose and Hugo turned on the spot at once to find Scorpius Malfoy smirking, his platinum blond hair falling in his eye as usual.

Rose was already worked up from her conversation with Hugo and she hated to be laugh at about her freckles (she actually liked them); her fists clenched into balls as she growled:

'Malfoy. You. Me. Duel. _Now_.'

Malfoy's smirk widened.

'Ooh. I'm really scared, Weasley.'

'You should be,' Rose said in a threatening tone, 'because unlike yours, _my_ parents are great wizards, and they've tought me a couple tricks that will blow your stupid hair out of your ugly face'. She pulled her wand from inside her robes and gestured Hugo away.

'Hugo. Back to your dorm. And please start working on that Transfiguration essay. I'll want to review a definite draft when I'm back.'

'_If_ you're back, Weasley,' corrected Malfoy while drawing out his wand as well.

Hugo left the corridor running, and then they were alone.

They started into each other's eyes. The tension was building between them, and yet neither of them dared make the first move. As they silently threatened each other with their wands, they seemed to ponder how stupid this actually was, and how bad they would be punished if Mr Dunnis, the caretaker, caught them duelling. But they were both too proud to give up, and they kept facing each other.

Rose stared at Malfoy, analysing every tiny sparkle in his eye for fear he would attempt to attack her. She was surprised by the fire she saw burning in his grey pupils – his eyes had always looked so cold, why were they suddenly lit with so much life? – and for a second she forgot where she was and what they were supposed to do. That's when Malfoy took advantage of her momentary lapse of attention and fired a silent hex at her. She dodged it just in time and it hit a suit of armour behind her with a loud crack. The armour fell face down with the sound of a cupboard full of metal saucepans crashing to the stone ground. Without stopping to think that the racket they were causing was bound to attract Mr Dunnis's attention, Rose replied with her aunt Ginny's famous Bat-Bogey hex. In the heat of the action she missed Malfoy by inches, and he fired back again. She hid behind a marble column and just when she was about to curse him for good, she froze. Loud footsteps and a wheezing breathing came from the stairs one floor below: Mr Dunnis. Her eyes widened with fright – there came the detentions – or would she be expelled, shame her entire family, and –

But strong arms suddenly clasped around her and drew her quickly through a little door under the stairs. She barely had time to register what was happening, and suddenly it was dark and confined, and she heard a voice mutter a few incantations, a wand pointing at the door and sending sparks of light towards it.

She looked up and saw Malfoy's face inches away from hers, lit only by the daylight coming from the slits around the door. His face wasn't the only thing that was too close to her – now she took a few deep breaths to calm down, she could almost feel the heat coming from his body, uncomfortably close to her. She realised they were hidden in a broom closet and that they hardly fit together in it. But there was no way she could get out of here for the moment. Mr Dunnis's wheezing voice was grumbling threats of detention, only a few feet away from where they stood. Malfoy's spells must have been good to prevent the caretaker from thinking about opening the door – she must admit he wasn't as bad a wizard as her insults implied.

Very, very close to her, Malfoy's body seemed to relax a bit, and he slumped against the closet's wall, looking as smug as always. Rose felt her insides boil with hatred: who did he think he was, rescuing her like this, forcing her to hide with him in this musty-smelling trap? Alright, she didn't mean a word of it – she just couldn't understand why he had thought of hiding her with him when it would have been so easy to leave her alone with a fallen suit of armour and her wand in her hand.

Malfoy's eyes flickered on her and then back on the door. Answering her thoughts, he simply said:

'Next time, I'll leave you outside, Weasley.'

'I'd rather you had done that. Better face Dunnis than you, really,' Rose spat out spitefully.

Malfoy didn't seem hurt at all. His trademark smirk returned on his lips instead. His burning grey eyes pierced Rose again. She wondered why her stomach contracted excitedly at this sight. The usual dislike, probably.

Malfoy stared at her for a moment, then he frowned slightly.

'I really hate you, Weasley,' he whispered - and yet his words were at odds with his tone and expression. His features, though still haughty, seemed to soften a bit. Which only made Rose more uncomfortable and suspicious.

'You know I hate you too, Malfoy,' she answered, and somehow her voice came out as a whisper too, which surprised her.

He was close, too close, towering over her, his warm breath stroking her hair lightly, his clean scent overpowering the dusty smell of the closet. Rose was suddenly overcome by a very unexpected feeling of attraction and she panicked. What the _hell_ was happening to her?

'So what do we do about it then?' he said, and his slender fingers were on her cheek, stroking her skin seemingly of their own accord, while he kept gazing absentmindly over her head.

Rose's first move was to recoil away from Malfoy's touch, but his fingers felt so incredibly good and warm against her skin that she decided to enjoy it a little longer, disturbing and odd though it was.

She felt a little lost. She had always hated him, she had always been sure of it. She had been raised to despise him. And now that they were almost sitting in each other's lap, well… she wasn't sure anymore.

'I don't know what you mean,' she said in a small voice after a while.

Her words seemed to bring Malfoy back to reality. He looked down at her and she had the unusual impression that she was melting under his stare. His fingers stopped stroking her cheek. Instead his hand slid gently to cup her face – and sent an incredible shiver of pleasure down her spine – and then his face was level with hers, closer than it had ever been, so close she could now appreciate the smoothness of his pale skin and the fact that his grey eyes were actually freckled with tiny brown and green dots.

'I mean, there's a very thin line between hate and - and - ' the word stuck in his throat, as if it was too hard for him to say it out loud.

'- love.' Rose completed his sentence without thinking.

Their eyes widened at the sound of the word. In their case, it _did_ seem too odd to be said out loud.

'And…' he went on, 'I believe we just crossed it.'

And Rose smiled in agreement. It was the first time she smiled at something Malfoy said – smiled, not smirked – and he smiled back, because he knew what her smile meant. It meant they would never be stupid enough to waste all this time not knowing which side of the line they actually stood again.


	13. M: Malfoy

_Hello everyone!_

_Here's chapter 'M'. Hope you like it! Feel free to tell me what's on your mind in your reviews - it takes only a minute and it's always highly helpful and inspiring for me! Any ideas for 'N'?_

_**Disclaimer**: I am not JK Rowling. *sigh* :(_

_**A/N**: unbeated_

* * *

**M for Malfoy**

Scorpius Malfoy had always hated his name.

First, it had to be _Scorpius_, which was probably the most ridiculous first name he had ever heard– including the name Gauledefroy he had read in _A History of Magic_: at least the guy was _dead._ Well, he hated his first name. He hated how it sounded, like a mix between _scorpion_ and some stupid scientific latin word. _Scorpion _would have been just as stupid, but cooler – a little dangerous. _Scorpio _would have at least sounded like a reminder of his zodiacal sign – but no, it had to be Scorpius. He didn't even use his full name when he could avoid it: his friends had been taught to call him Scor or Scorp. But he still had to endure the sound of it all day long as his teachers at Hogwarts and his parents at home insisted on calling him by his real, full name.

And don't even get him started on his last name. Not only _Malfoy _sounded like the adjective for something nastily rotten – _eww, throw that tomato away, it's gotten really Malfoy!_ – or worse, like the name of an infectious disease; it was also a name marked with such dark and unglorious history it was sometimes too much to bear for a teenage boy alone. Sometimes he wished his father was not Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater - that his great aunt wasn't Bellatrix Lestrange, the maddest criminal that ever supported Voldermort. He wished his family was normal - well, as normal as wizards can be - a nice trouble-free family, with no history of pure-blood obsession and support to Dark wizards. Then he would have been called Scorpius Smith - no, no Scorpius, he would have been called Peter or Mathew or Liam, something nice, regular, even mainstream.

And the sound of it all was simply hideous. _Scorpius Malfoy_. What were his parents thinking? His whole name screamed aristocracy and pure-blood family as if his light blond hair, fine features and tall, slender body didn't already do that. Try as he might to erase his family's past, his name stood as a reminder. He knew his parents weren't probably thinking about all this when they named him, but he thought it was kind of obvious that _Scorpius _associated with _Malfoy _was not a good idea. And now he was stuck with the burden of this name forever, a name that said _I'm the obnoxious and intolerant spawn of a Death Eater_ even though he was not like this.

Yes, Scorpius Malfoy really hated his name. That is, until one day after a Charms class he heard it from a soft, gentle voice behind him in the corridor. His name was still the same, but the sound of it was different. He turned around and saw a smiling red-haired girl clutching a textbook he had forgotten in class. He knew her, although they'd never been much in contact before. She was Rose Weasley, and she was his exact opposite with her fiery hair, her freckled skin, her celebrated family and her rather common name. But something in the way she said his name told him she was special - special to _him_.

The more they got to know each other after that, the more she made him like his name. They hung out on the grounds of Hogwarts, and he thought his name wasn't so horrible if a girl like Rose Weasley said it so casually, said it because he made her laugh. During those moments his name even sounded good, somehow. The day of their graduation, when she murmured his name after their first kiss, he felt elated. For the first time in his life he felt happy to be Scorpius Malfoy, because he was the one Rose Weasley had chosen to kiss.

And now he was waiting for her to walk down the aisle in a white dress he knew would be stunning - because she already _was _stunning even when she just wore jeans and a Tshirt - and become Mrs Rose Malfoy. And now he didn't hate his name anymore, because she was the one who made him accept it. And very soon she would be the one who would wear it proudly like a crown, a symbol of their love - and a symbol of the generation they belonged to, free of their parents' pasts and prejudices.

Yeah. Scorpius Malfoy was the best name he could have been given after all.


	14. N: New York

_Hello everyone!_

_Sorry for the very late update. I just couldn't find a way to write this chapter. As a result, I forced myself to finish it today but I'm not very happy with it. Oh well, next one will be better. All your ideas are welcome! I have a few ideas for 'O', and 'P' will be for 'Paris'. Do you like it?_

_Disclaimer: Rose and Scorpius are not mine, sadly. New York isn't mine either, but I'm allowed to love it and write about it anyway :)_

* * *

**N for New York**

_A rooftop, Manhattan  
Five in the morning  
And you said something  
That I've never forgotten_

It was five in the morning and Rose Weasley couldn't sleep. Her plane had landed a few hours ago in JFK and now she experienced what _jetlag_ actually meant. Most witches and wizards traveled by Apparating from one continent to another. But Rose had always hated the claustrophobic feeling of Apparition and avoided it as much as she could : to her, the pressure in her lungs was unbearable, and she'd rather waste eight hours in a plane rather than suffocate through Apparition for a minute. Plus, she'd discovered she loved flying by plane, because it went higher than any wizarding means of transportation and you could admire the sun rise over an endless sea of white clouds.

But such a beautiful vision came with secondary effects, and jetlag was the worse – worse than airplane food, Rose had decided. She felt dizzy without being tipsy. She felt hangovered without having drunk a single drop of Firewhisky. She felt as if she could sleep for hours but was currently suffering from the worse insomnia in her life.

That is why she had climbed on the rooftop of her hotel after walking in circles for five hours in her room : the fresh air would probably help her clear her mind, and the sight of the rising sun slowly setting the glass and metal buildings of Manhattan in fire was a good enough reason to stay awake.

There was something about New York that made her instantly fall in love with it. Which she found unsettling at first, because she had always considered herself as a Londoner – and she couldn't think of two cities less alike than London and New York. But after a while – a few minutes really – she knew she couldn't get enough of the _life_ there was in New York.

Everything was new and fantastic. On her first day, before she got hit by jetlag, she walked around Manhattan, taking in as much as she could. She loved everything about the city, from the smells of hot tar and burning falafel to the honking of the monster trucks in the streets, from the pre-war buildings along the cobbled streets of Soho to the vast green spaces of Central Park. New York even made her love her _job_ more than she already did: as one of the brightest young journalists of the Daily Prophet, she had been chosen to go and report on the renegociation of the Status of Secrecy between Muggle and wizard representatives at the United Nations. It was a thrilling job, a huge responsibility, but most of all it was an opportunity for Rose to meet again with someone that had always fascinated her.

That was probably why she had never really talked to _him_ - Scorpius Malfoy - when they were at Hogwarts together. She used to look at him from a distance, half because of their families' history, half because she was worried that someone as handsome and smart as him would not waste time talking to someone as insignificant as her.

The funny thing was, although she was now a well-know, acclaimed young journalist, she still felt nervous about her coming interview of Scorpius. If she had done well with her career after Hogwarts, _he_ had done a thousand times better. After school, Scorpius had studied law at the London Wizarding Law School, and he had become the youngest member of the Wizengamot shortly after graduation. Albus Dumbledore was the only one who had gotten to this point younger than him. He soon became a tenacious Muggle rights defender, fighting hard to establish laws to protect those who couldn't do magic. Even Rose's mum, Hermione Granger, Head of the Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry for Magic, spoke highly of him since he had fought and won a case against a wizard who beat and starved his house-elf. Of course he was one of the few guests of the UN conference who would have been invited no matter what, since he was one of the leading experts on the subject of Muggle-wizard relationships.

Rose felt both elated and petrified by this interview. She was grateful she was up here, on this roof with a spectacular 360° view of the city. The rivers and the buildings had just started glistening in the morning light and the atmosphere was still quiet, motionless, soothing. She drew a deep breath, talking in all the smells of the New York spring, and sighed with satisfaction. After all, she was in New York, and nothing could go wrong.

So she thought. But New York had other plans in store. She was just about to turn and walk back down to her room when she heard someone call her name a little behind her:

'Rose.'

She froze. She hadn't heard anyone climb up here, she had not heard the creaking of the heavy door. Who knew she was here? She had just arrived in the city and hadn't met anyone who would remember her name so far. The footsteps came closer and when she turned to look at the person standing next to her, looking at her with an air of delighted surprise on his calm features, she recognised the still handsome, still platinum-blond, still intelligent-looking Scorpius Malfoy.

She started slightly. It took her a second to process the fact that he was standing in front of her, waiting for her to say something. And then, when she regained speech, she did the most unexpected gesture one could think of in such a situation: she held her hand out to him for a professional handshake and said:

'Oh hi, I didn't see you there, how are you?'

And she hated herself for sounding so fake. He was a former classmate of hers, for Merlin's sake. They were the same age! They were both standing on the roof of a building in Manhattan at five in the morning by the weirdest of coincidences! _Come on!_

Scorpius sounded a lot more casual and convincing as he spoke, although the situation must be awkward for him, too.

'I'm good, thank you. Nice to spend a couple days on this side of the Atlantic, it's an interesting change. Do you like New York?'

'I _love_ it.' Rose couldn't help but answer sincerely. 'I almost only agreed to interview you because the conference would take place here,' she added, hoping he would get the joke.

Scorpius laughed, and Rose's insides gave a little squeeze : _one point for me, if I can make him laugh._

'I believe you. I would have come here anyway, conference or no conference. There's an energy about this place…it makes me feel... younger, reckless, free. It's exciting and soothing at the same time.'

Rose perfectly undestood what he meant, although she wondered why the great Scorpius Malfoy would need to be excited or soothed. Wasn't he already perfect?

'I didn't know you were staying at this hotel,' he said, gazing over her shoulder where the morning sun hit the coast of New Jersey.

'I had no idea you were here either. Actually, I think it's very unconventional for the Daily Prophet to make a journalist stay in the same hotel as her interviewee. I bet it could look slightly unprofessional.'

Scorpius corked an eyebrow, and Rose thought he did look more handsome than ever.

She continued hastily – she wanted to explain why she was here on the roof. She didn't want him to get the wrong idea - that she might be inconsistent, thoughtless. She couldn't understand her need to justify herself, but she still said:

'I couldn't sleep, that's why I came up here. The view of the city is quite inspiring, don't you think?'

'What do you need inspiration for?' he asked, sounding genuinely interested and a little surprised.

'Well, for instance, for our interview tomorrow.'

They stared at each other for a moment, probably for the first time since they had stood together on this roof – they'd been gazing at the city instead before.

'What do you want to ask me?' he said, his voice much less self-confident than before. Rose understood he was refering to the interview.

'Well… I have thought of many questions. But what I think will interest our readers the most is what drives you forward in your career. You did amazingly good for someone so young. What motivates you? That's what we all want to know.'

'What your readers want to know, or what _you_ want to know?' Scorpius asked, his grey eyes piercing hers.

'Er… I – I think everybody would like to know –' she stammered, before giving a defeated shrug and admitting: 'Oh well, let's face it, I'm just very curious and I wanted to know the secret of your success.'

He stared at her thoughtfully for a minute, as if pondering whether he should tell her the truth or not. Rose felt a thrill of excitment at this perspective: that's what she loved about her job – when people she interviewed decided to be honest and tell her straighforwardly what was on their minds.

Although what came out of Scorpius's mouth was the most unexpected answer of all.

'It's you, Rose.'

Her mind went blank. She must have gone momentarily deaf.

'Wh-what?'

'I did it all for you.'

There was no mistaking what he had just said. _He_ must have gone momentarily crazy.

'Why?' It sounded stupid, but she needed to know.

'I wanted to impress you,' he said simply.

As she didn't answer and her mouth was gaping a little, he smiled and went on:

'You seemed so fun, so cool. You were the daughter of two of the greatest wizards of our time and I was the son of an ex-Death Eater. I wanted to prove to you I was better than what you could think I was.'

'I never thought you were unworthy,' she protested. 'I thought _you_ were the worthy one. I was so impressed by you I couldn't even talk to you.'

Once again, he looked genuinely surprised. Rose couldn't believe her eyes.

Then his eyes became piercing again as his voice became more gentle:

'You wanted to know what brought me where I am today. I told you the truth. What more could a journalist dream of?'

She knew it was a rhetorical question but she could still think of a thousand things she could dream of right now – most of them involving _him_.

And before she could answer, he gave her a final grin, turned and walked back to the door. After he left, she stayed alone on the roof, surrounded by the waking city, and she smiled at her racing heart. New York was spread at her feet and a million possibilities sparkled on a million windows. The city never slept and she felt more alive than ever.

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_I love reviews, so please let me know what you thought of this one!_


	15. O: Occlumency

Hello everyone!

Here's a quick update before I head to London, baby! YAY, I'm so excited!  
I'll be back on Monday with - hopefully - more chapters for this story. Keep reading and reviewing, reviews make my day! And I read and answer to all of them.

**Disclaimer**: my going to London doesn't make me JK Rowling. In other words: not mine.

* * *

**O for Occlumency**

I wish I was a little better at hiding my emotions from her. Occlumency doesn't seem like a bad option right now, does it?

I'm so good at hiding what I feel. So freaking good, in fact, that most people assume I'm the obnoxious, haughty jerk that I appear to be on the outside. Even my best friends – can I really call them _friends_? – think I'm a heartless pure-blood fanatic. They _admire_ me for this. They say I'm tough, that I have the guts to stand up to my father, who went soft after the War and betrayed his blood by marrying a half-blood Hufflepuff. Nobody ever asks me if I think my father did the right thing. Nobody ever thinks they're insulting my mother by despising my father for marrying her. Nobody bothers to really find out who's hiding behind the mask of Scorpius Malfoy.

I'm not such a sissy as to wish people would pay more attention to my true feelings. I do wish it had happened, but earlier, when I first boarded the Hogwarts Express for instance. I wish I had found people who really cared about me – the _real_ me. Instead, I was forced to choose between being bullied as the son of Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater – no matter how repentant he's been, no matter how much he has done since the end of the War to redeem himself – or being worshipped for my blue-blood family tree. I chose the second option – less painful. Better for my ego. Killing the real me slowly and painfully, but at least hiding the slow death of my soul from the public.

And I played along for years – five years actually. Until the day Rose Weasley sat next to me in that fateful Potions class, to be exact.

I was sitting alone that day – my 'friend' Zabini was sick and had to stay in bed for a week – and I expected to be left alone for two hours, until the end of the class. Not that I cared, the loneliness enhanced my haughty lone wolf character. I opened my Potions book and started reading it, not paying attention to the students entering the classroom and searching for seats.

But then I heard someone pull the chair next to mine and a girl's voice, tinkling and kind, asked me:

'Is this seat available?'

I looked up, hiding my surprise under cool, composed features. The girl was Rose Weasley, someone I would never have expected to talk to me. She was smiling to me, as if I was any other boy, and not Death Eater spawn, not the son of her parents' arch nemesis. I coudn't find a reason for denying her the seat and I just answered, keeping my voice as cool and indifferent as possible:

'I don't mind you sitting here, if that's what you want to know.'

She didn't answer and simply sat down next to me, her school bag on her lap. I felt instantly bad for using such an unpleasant tone with her. She looked unusally unprejudiced, actually. Maybe I could let my guard down a little.

And that was my first mistake.

She hadn't braught her Potions book and I offered her to share mine. As we skimmed through the pages to find today's section, our fingers brushed together several times. She didn't seem to mind the touch, but I felt unexpectedly troubled: touching was never neutral for Malfoys – but she seemed to handle it as if she was used to being touched, hugged, loved by her family and friends. It suddenly made me feel vulnerable and small, feelings I hadn't experienced for years.

We finally found the page about Amortensia antidotes and she looked up at me, smiling the same kind smile as before. Her warm brown eyes were soft as velvet and I felt exposed, but not in a bad way. It was just very unusual.

And then she said:

'I'm glad we're sitting together. I never got to talk to you before.'

'Why would you want to talk to me?' I asked, barely hiding my surprise. Damn it, this was not a very Scorpius Malfoy thing to say. Scorpius Malfoy wasn't supposed to care whether people wanted to talk to him or not. What was wrong with me around her? I couldn't help but being freakishly _honest_.

'You seem interesting,' she answered, and her tinkling voice bore a deep kindness. 'Like a book that seems hard work when you judge it by its cover, but that has in fact many levels and one deep, true meaning. The kind of book you end up reading and reading again for your entire life.'

She was comparing me to a book, but it still sounded like the best compliment anyone had ever given me. Her eyes were soft but still pierced mine, and I felt she was able to read my mind. It troubled me a little but I went on anyway.

'You seem interesting too. No one has ever spoken to me like this before. Aren't you a little afraid of me? Don't you hate me a little? Most people do.'

She let out a tinkling laugh. I loved it. Then I despised myself for loving it. Scorpius Malfoy is not supposed to love anything, remember?

'They are afraid of you, they hate you because they only see what they want to see. I bet you're different from what those people think you are.'

I was shocked. How could she say something which was so true I had spent years hiding it even from myself ? Just by sitting next to me for two minutes. I looked into her eyes and I swear I felt something happening. Was she able to perform Legilimency or something?

I had to close my mind. I couldn't allow anyone to find out too much about the real me. Not now, not after all these days, all these years, trying to deny the raw, sensitive Scorpius that hid behind the cold, spiteful Malfoy.

Now was a good time to figure how to perform Occlumency.

But I should have known someone as unusual as Rose wouldn't let me get out of this so easily. And there is probably something addictive about being with someone who knows you. _Really_ knows you. It only took me a few weeks of sitting next to her in Potions and studying with her in the library to figure this out. As we became close, I sensed a change in my friends' behaviours: they were colder, they didn't seem to seek my company as much as before, and they often threw me reproachful looks. I didn't care. It felt so good to be with Rose that I couldn't believe I had wasted all these years spending time with people like them.

I let her read my mind too much, too long. She soon knew more about me than I did. I even let myself feel surprising things when she was around – was this weird squirming feeling in my stomach what people called _butterflies_?

And this was my second mistake.

That's how I ended up crying in front of her yesterday. I'm almost too ashamed to recall the events that led to this huge embarassment. All I know is that my father had just sent me a letter telling me, in cold and concise terms, that he was very disappointed in my behaviour – my behaviour being my hanging out with a Weasley girl. He has never told me off for hanging out with Zabinis and Parkinsons and all the cowardly pure-blood loving crowd, but he _did_ tell me off for hanging out with the best person I had ever met. I didn't stop to think about how paradoxical it was for a man who'd been fighting to redeem himself since he was seventeen to write such nonsense. I was hurt.

I was too upset to stay cool and calm at the Slytherin table. As soon as I read the letter, I got up, left the table and run to the Astronomy tower, which I hoped was high enough to prevent unwanted people to follow me. But Rose saw me leave and climbed up there after me. She was not unwanted. She's _never_ unwanted. When she saw my face – and whatever expression was on it – she ran towards me and hugged me tight. I felt awful about my father's letter and yet this was the most wonderful feeling I had ever experienced. She asked me what was wrong and I told her everything. Literally _everything_, from the letter to the bleak atmosphere in which I had been raised, from the way my friends despised my parents to the humiliations I had been subjected to on my first days at Hogwarts before I became harder. It was too much to bear: the memories, the hurt, Rose's caring eyes on me – I felt tears falling on my cheeks and I instantly regretted everything. I shouldn't have let her in. I shouldn't have talked to her in the first place. I should have sensed the danger she represented and used Occlumency against her instead.

Because now she knows I am weak and all my efforts at being indifferent and cruel have been in vain. I don't want to get out of my room ever again. I feel too bad, too weak. She'll never look at me the same way again.

But I hear a knock on my dormitory door and I know it's her. Even her knock on the door is gentle and kind – how inexplicable is that? And I know it's no use resisting it, because she's the only one who knows who I really am and she's still around. What she reads in my eyes doesn't deter her from being my friend. The unknown sensations she stirs in my body don't seem to scare her.

And so I open the door and I let her in my room, in my arms, in my heart. Because it doesn't matter what she sees in me, she's the only one who can _see_ it. And that's why she'll be forever priceless to me.


	16. P: Paris

_Hello everyone!_

_Sorry for this longer interruption. As I told you, I was in London for a few days (which was groovy) and then I had a lot of work, so after a good sunny weekend I'm back with more stories. This one takes place in a very beautiful and very romantic city. People say one comes to Paris to fall in love, but what happens when you come to Paris when you're already in love?_

_I hope you'll like it!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own Harry Potter, only the plots are mine._

**P for Paris**

Scorpius Malfoy had taken Rose Weasley on a romantic trip to Paris. She couldn't understand why he had chosen this city among all the places they could visit in the world: he knew perfectly well she was the exact opposite of romantic.

That morning, she walked up to the central window on the wonderful suite he had booked for them at the Crillon, and admired the view of the place de la Concorde with its fountains glistening in the rising sun. It looked so peaceful and majestic at this time of the day, before the Parisians took their cars out to go to work, causing massive traffic jams to block off the beauty of the place.

She sighed. The city was indeed breathtaking. But still, didn't he know her _at all_? She didn't want to sound ungrateful, but there were thousands of more appropriate choices for a vacation. A hiking trip in Iceland or Norway was her dream a visit of Prague or Budapest would have interested her a lot more, with their gothic buildings and vampire past.

But Paris? Paris was… so _perfect_. So classy. So beautiful. And most of all, so sickeningly _romantic_. So unlike them. Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy were not a perfect couple. They were absolutely not romantic. Since the first day they had talked to each other, they hadn't stopped teasing each other, making fun of each other, competing with each other in every class, and when years later they found out they were attracted to each other and started going out, the competition, the teasing and the fun remained a part of their relationship. Rose was against romance, dates in fluffy pink tea rooms, long walks in the sunset, sweet nothings and all the kind of stuff regular couples were so into they usually ended up blurring the separate personalities they had in the process. The beauty of their couple was that they remained true to who they really were: Rose was a very pretty, but very loudmouthed tomboy, and Scorpius hid his good nature behind his sarcastic comments. They had already spent years together, and now, at twenty five, they still had as much fun as in the first day. She didn't want them to change, because the lack of romance was what made them so great together. They were a passionate couple as well as best friends. And as her best friend, Scorpius had never told Rose he loved her, and she had never told him she loved him, because there was no need for such words. It had never bothered Rose before.

Until he brought her here. Scorpius may be a little different from her but Paris was an unusual choice of a holiday spot, even for him. He was so British – he _looked_ so British – people spontaneously spoke to him in English in the restaurants and cafés they went to. It annoyed Scorpius a lot, because he hated looking like a tourist, but it made Rose laugh a lot, and forget her preoccupying thoughts for a minute. She knew he would rather be in a place where he felt more at home too.

Something was going on, and it made her nervous not knowing what it was. It was probably all in her head, she decided, tearing her eyes from the waters of the Seine glistening in the sunshine. Scorpius was done showering and was ready to go, and they took off for another romantic day in the most romantic city of the world.

Instead of appeasing her fears, the day Scorpius had planed brought them back. They started the day by stopping at Ladurée, where he bought Rose the most delicate rose macaroons she had ever tasted. Then they walked along the boulevard, and when they arrived in front of the Opera, Scorpius asked a Muggle passer-by to take a picture of them – something none of them had ever done in all these years.

After that, they headed to the Louvre, where they stayed until the middle of the afternoon. As much as she enjoyed art, Rose couldn't help eyeing Scorpius suspiciously while the Mona Lisa eyed her with her famous mysterious smile playing on her lips.

After visiting the museum, Scorpius took Rose by the hand and led her to a cute little pastry shop a few blocks away. They talked about everything expect what preoccupied her, laughed together and had lots of fun – but something was different, in the way Scorpius sometimes stared at her when he thought she wasn't aware of it, or in the nervous smile he gave her when she caught him doing it.

The sun was setting when they walked out, and Scorpius looked at her tenderly, squeezing her hand gently. Rose felt slightly sick. She wanted to ask all her questions now. She burst out, unable to restrain herself any longer:

'For Merlin's sake, Scorp, stop looking at me like this! What on earth is going on?'

Scorpius looked taken aback for a second, then burst out laughing.

'You're unbelievable, Rose! I'm just being nice, like a good boyfriend should, and you ask me what's _wrong_? You're definitely no regular girl.'

'I'm not, and that's why you're with me. And you know that.'

'Right,' he grinned at her with the wolfish smile she loved so much, 'and I am no ordinary man either.'

'Then why are you suddenly all mushy and romantic? Why did you take me to _Paris_ of all places? Why do you start acting like any other guy?'

'Why do you care, if it's so normal and ordinary to be like this?'

'Because it's not ordinary for you, and it's not ordinary for me, and I can't help thinking there's something wrong – something different – going on.'

They had just walked out of an arcade street and the glistening waters of the Seine in the sunset blinded them for a moment. Scorpius's reply died in his throat, shut in by the awe they both felt in front of such a view. Still holding each other's hand, they walked forward, crossed the street, and climbed the first steps of the Pont des Arts, the bridge that crossed the river in front of them. They walked a few steps, looking at the dazzling view in silence. Then they leaned on their elbows on the guardrail of the bridge and watched the fiery waters disappear under their feet.

Rose threw an apologetic glance at her boyfriend. She felt bad about freaking out, when all he wanted was to show her a good time in this magnificent place. But Scorpius winked at her, and took their conversation from where they had left it:

'We're not ordinary, Rose, and that's why I wanted to take you here. A romantic trip to Paris is so cliché only you could make it look like _us_. And I wanted to make this moment special, that's why we're here.'

Rose frowned. She didn't understand what his point was. And suddenly, Scorpius was kneeling down on one knee in front of her, and through a dream-like haze she saw him putting his hand in the inner pocket of his jacket and pulling out a small, red velvet box –

'Rose…', Scorpius smiled when he said her name.

'Oh no.'

'…will you marry me?' His grin widened and his eyes sparkled mischievously.

They stared at each other a second, and then the words escaped Rose's mouth without her thinking:

'I love you.'

Scorpius laughed, and she sensed a relieved edge in his laugh that nearly broke her heart. She didn't expect to feel so much better after saying these words.

'I love you too, stupid. What do you say?'

She bent down and kissed him.

'I say _yes_.'


	17. Q: Quidditch

_Hello everyone!_

_Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing, for adding this story to your alerts and favorites. It's really good to have feedback, so don't forget to leave a review after reading…_

_Here's today's chapter : Q for Quidditch._

_Suggestions for 'R' are welcome_!

_PS : very sorry for the presentation, but page settings don't work on my computer lately... does anyone has the same problem? Hope it doesn't make the story too hard to read..._

Lily sat next to Rose at the Gryffindor table and put her hand on her cousin's shoulder. Rose shrugged herself free and threw a dark look at the red-haired girl staring at her with concern.

'Rose…' started Lily.

'Lemme alone' muttered Rose moodily.

Lily moved a few inches away from her but didn't take her eyes off her. After a while, she seemed to have gathered the courage to ask Rose again despite her hostility.

'Why did you two split up?'

The question was direct and blunt and seemed to hit Rose like a bullet.

'I told you to _leave me alone_,' she growled now, and Lily was surprised she didn't try to bite her.

'I don't want to', she said. 'You look like you're in pain, Rose. As your cousin and your friend, it's my duty to be here for you, even if you don't know it.'

Rose stared at her for a moment, then her expression softened a bit and she sighed.

'Fine.' She ran a hand in her long light brown hair, then on her face and eyes. 'But don't laugh at me, because it's actually ridiculous.'

'I won't laugh,' Lily swore solemnly.

'We broke up because of Quidditch.'

Lily's eyes widened.

'_What?_'

'You promised you wouldn't laugh!' Rose protested.

'Do I look like I'm laughing? How could you break up over a stupid _sport_?'

'Tell that to _him_,' Rose said, her voice heavy with spite.

'I'm going to need more information here,' Lily said seriously. She had the look of a person determined to know the truth, and Rose surrendered.

'Alright…'

Rose was sitting on the lower row of the Quidditch stadium, waiting for Scorpius's practice to finish. She didn't understand what made him – or so many other people, her family for instance – so fond of this sport. She had taken a lot from her mother, and her dislike of sports in general and Quidditch in particular was one of Hermione's many legacies. She hated the activity that kept Scorpius away from her so often. Even when he was done with it and spent time with her, she could tell that sometimes his mind was on strategies, moves and players' positions rather than on her.

She was sitting there, brooding about this, when something happened up in the air. Voices started crying out things and she raised her head to look at the team. Next thing she knew, she was watching Scorpius fall from his broom, as if in slow motion, as in her worst nightmare, and the spell flew out of her mouth as her wand wiped the air and she managed to slow him down a little before he crashed.

Still, the noise his bones made when his body hit the ground was the most horryfying, sickening thing Rose had ever heard. She rushed down to the Quidditch pitch and kneeled next to him, crying his name, rolling his unconscious body on his side and checking that his spine was still intact. His forehead was bleeding where the bludger had hit him. The rest of the team gathered around them, their faces worried, terrified, petrified, and she screamed for them to get some help, pushing her hair back as she covered Scorpius's body with hers, not carrying about the tears she felt on her cheeks as she pressed them against Scorpius's shoulder.

After what felt like forever a little group came back from the hospital wing, with Miss Bell, the Quidditch instructor, and Madam Pelegrin, the matron. Madam Pelegrin waved her wand, muttering an incantation, and Scorpius's body rose lightly in the air, enabling her to carry him back to the castle. Rose followed the group instinctively, although her brain had frozen: in her desperation, nothing mattered except Scorpius's life. She had no idea how hard he had hit the ground. She just shuddered remembering the cracking of his bones – and the fact that he hadn't woken up worried her sick.

Scorpius was laid on a bed of the hospital wing with an arm and both his legs in casts. A heavy bandage was wrapped around his head and he looked smaller than usual. Rose watched over him for the rest of the day and Madam Pelegrin was unable to throw her out after curfew – she wouldn't listen, she wouldn't move. She just sat there, waiting for a sign of Scorpius coming back to life, with only a candle on the nightstand to keep her company.

Many thoughts crossed her mind during those long minutes when she thought she might lose him forever. The accident made her realise how much she cared about him. How much she loved him. She had never understood she couldn't live without him – but when for a minute she thought he was dead, she felt as if her life was over. Scorpius was her light. She must know it, she fought so hard against her father to make him accept the fact that she was going out with him. She was ready to fight the entire world for him.

And _Quidditch_, she thought, her face contorted with hatred. The world's most ridiculous sport had almost taken her boyfriend away from her forever. She had never liked Quidditch – but now she simply hated it.

And she was sure of only one thing now: she would never, ever risk losing him again. She would never let him play Quidditch again.

The following morning, while Rose had finally fallen asleep on her chair next to Scorpius, he opened an eye. His first words were: '_Rose_.'

She woke up instantly.

'Scorpius!'

She wanted to throw herself at him, give him a bone-cracking hug, but in the state he was she restrained herself and simply cupped his face with her hands and kissed him lightly on the lips.

'Hey,' he smiled weakly.

'How do you feel?' she asked worriedly.

'Exhausted. Hurting. What happened?'

Rose considered him for a second. He had lost the memory of what had left him in this state.

'You got hit by Daldwin's Bludger – it was just a mistake, I yelled at him enough to make sure it was – and then you fell unconscious from your broom and…'

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself. Telling him this made her relive what she had felt when she thought she'd lost him.

'…and then I tried to slow you down as much as I could with my spell but you still hit the ground so hard, Scorpius…'

Tears were now streaming down her cheeks without her noticing, and Scorpius held out his good arm and stroke her face gently. He couldn't stand to see her cry. It broke his heart more than anything else in the world. He swore he would never make her cry again, whether willingly or not.

'… and Scorpius, for a moment I thought you were dead, and I swear I thought I'd died too, it couldn't be true… I never want to lose you, Scorpius, _please_…'

He now was at a loss what to do, because he wanted to take her in his arms, cradle her and stroke her hair until her heartbreaking sobs quietened, and he couldn't, because he was stuck in bloody casts.

'Rose,' was all he could murmur in his distress.

'I can't stand it, Scorpius, you've got to swear to me…'

'I swear…'

'…that you'll never play Quidditch again.' Her voice dropped as she looked him resolutely in the eye. Her eyes were still overflowing with tears but her determination showed on every feature.

'I can't do that,' Scorpius said, taken aback.

'I won't leave you a choice,' she answered.

'This is ridiculous. Quidditch is not dangerous. See, I'm still here, talking to you, alive. It's been decades since anyone died playing.'

'And I don't want you to set the death record for _this_ decade,' she said dryly.

'Rose, you can't stop me from playing. You know I want to go professional after I graduate. Quidditch is what I live for!'

She threw him a murderous glare, and he just had time to realise his mistake. But it was too late.

'And I live for _you_, Scorpius, and how am I supposed to stand this, when even a perfectly harmless training session almost gets you killed? I can't live like this forever, Scorp, I thought this was only a school thing, I thought you'd change your mind about being a professional player, especially after what happened yesterday! I hate Quidditch, I hate it even more now, and you know it!'

'Stop being hysterical!' Scorpius stopped her. How could she not understand this? How could she not understand what it meant to him? Didn't she know him _at all_ after all?

'I'm not hysterical!' she replied in such high pitched tones it was hard to believe her. 'Actually I'm the only one talking sense around here!'

'I won't stop playing, Rose! And if you can't deal with it, then maybe we shouldn't be together!'

He regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. But it was too late to bite them back. Rose's expression went from fury to shock, and from shock to fury again in less than a second.

'Is that what you want?' she growled so low he got scared she might hit him. Her voice was cold as ice as she went on : 'Fine, you can choose Quidditch over me, you can even fall from your broom again and crack your head, look how I care.'

And with one last murderous look, she left the hospital wing without looking back.

She looked up with an expression of cold pride. Lily had stared at her for the entire story, her jaw gradually droping, looking aghast.

'You are both stupider that I could ever imagine.' She let out when she was sure Rose had finished her story. Rose expected anything but this response. She was so sure she had made the right choice – even if her choice still pounded in her chest like a bleeding wound.

'I'm not stupid, I just can't understand why he –'

'Yes, you _are_,' cut Lily. 'Quidditch is dangerous, but what sport isn't? You can't be so selfish as to forbid him to do what he likes. How would you feel if he, say, forbid you to read?'

'Reading is not dangerous,' grumbled Rose, for the sake of argument – she knew Lily had a point, and she felt bad for not seeing it before.

'No, but it still keeps you away from him for hours, and he can't know what you feel or think when you're reading, so he must feel left out sometimes. But that's how it works, Rose, and he seems to love you despite your different interest. He never blamed you for not liking Quidditch.'

'When did you become such an expert?' Really, her little cousin's relationship wisedom puzzled her.

'Trust me, when you really pay attention to my parents' story, you realise it's about love being stronger than anything: stronger than the fear of losing the other, stronger than misunderstandings and misjudgements. It's about letting the other do what he believes is important. And in the end, they're still together twenty-five years later, and they still seem as much in love as in the first days. So, come to think of it, if my mother was ready to let my father leave her and go after Voldermort, I believe you can let Scorpius play Quidditch one in a while, can't you?'

Her own stupidity and childishness hit her hard with Lily's last words. The reasons of her break-up with Scorpius suddenly seemed pathetic and trivial, as her cousin had stated it. She was so afraid to lose Scorpius that she had ended up losing him after all – and it was all her ridiculous fault. She wanted to slap her own face.

'I _am_ so stupid.'

Lily corked an eyebrow and smirked.

'Told you.'

'I've got to fix this!' she looked at her cousin in desperation.

'Then go! You know what to do, and you know where to find him…'

Rose left in a blur of brown hair.

He was where she expected him to be: sitting on the lower row of the Quidditch stadium, one leg still in a cast, watching the Hufflepuff team practice with obvious longing in his grey eyes.

The look on his face broke Rose's heart. She loved him, she loved everything about him, even his incomprehensible passion for Quidditch. Maybe that's even _why_ she loved him so much: because they were different, and some things about him remained a mystery, no matter how much she thought she knew and understood him.

She walked over to where he was sitting and sat quietly next to him. He looked over at her, a sparkle of surprise shining in his eye, then he moodily turned his attention back to Quidditch.

She took his hand gently in hers and squeezed it. She waited, and after a while he squeezed her hand back.

They stayed there until sunset and until the practice was over, and they never let go of each other again.

_So, what did you think? Would you have reacted like Rose or like Lily in such circumstances? Personally, I still don't know…_


	18. R: Rules

_Hello everyone!_

_Thanks for reading and reviewing! See, reviews = more updates. Here's another chapter. I really like this one, and I wrote it this morning, so please excuse potential spelling/typos. I just wanted to post it as soon as I finished it. Don't forget to review and tell me what you thought of it!_

_Oh, and what should '**S**' stand for?  
_

_A/N : HP is not mine, c'mon._

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**R for Rules**

_Who the fuck are they to judge me? I'm Rose, _Rose_, and I don't want to be just any other Weasley. Don't they _know _that? Why do they keep staring at me, staring at me like I'm some sort of freak? I've only been sorted in Slytherin and suddenly I've become a stain on the otherwise flawless family portrait. After all these years, the only one who really understood me was an old patched hat. I'm unconventional and I truly don't care. I won't abide by their rules. I won't abide by any rule expect the ones I choose to follow – oh and the ones of Hogwarts, but it's just because I don't want to get expelled and sent back home where no one understands me. Oh, sure, they love me. But sometimes that's just not enough. My life begins here, and I intend to make it fantastic, ecstatic and like no one else's. Thank you so much, Sorting Hat._

I've always known I was different. I've always known it since I was a child. Teachers used to look at me suspiciously, and I didn't have friends, all the others kids seemed to be scared of me. Some of them clearly hated me as well, and I had no idea why. Sometimes I'd get beaten up, and when I'd go home and tell my dad to come with me at school and talk to the other parents about the problem, he'd shake his head with resignation. So, after being beaten up a couple times, I began to fight back, because no one but me seemed willing to stand up and defend me. And after another couple fights, the mean kids gave it up and I was left alone again. It's only a few years later, when I read a history book my father had tried to hide from me on the highest shelf of the library, that I understood that I was different because my name was _Malfoy_. They hated me because that's how it was supposed to be, because it was the rule. And nobody seemed to care that my first name was Scorpius, and that I wasn't just any other Malfoy.

_Somehow it didn't surprise me that Scorpius Malfoy became my first – and soon, best – friend at Hogwarts. My parents were horrified when they found out about our friendship and my dad stopped writing me for weeks, but I really didn't give a tiny Blasting-Ended Skrewt's arse. Scorpius was the most interesting person I had ever met. Unlike me, he had suffered – there was a shadow in his grey eyes that always tore my heart apart – and unlike me, he came from an infamous family. But we were both Slytherins, and we had both suffered from the rules, and when we sat next to each other at the table that first night, it happened. We looked at each other and something like an electric shock moved me to my core. I knew that despite our different appearances, the shy platinum-blond boy sitting next to me was the closest thing to a soulmate I had ever encountered. And it turned out he definitely was. We understood each other perfectly without even speaking. And from the moment we introduced ourselves, we became friends and absolutely inseparable._

Rose is the best thing that ever happened to me. A long time ago, I had resigned myself to being alone for the rest of my life. I couldn't imagine having a friend, not even in my wildest daydreams. I didn't think I didn't _deserve _one, I just knew no one would ever want to be my friend because no one wanted to break the rule saying you don't get too friendly with the son of an ex-Death Eater. But Rose didn't care about rules, and that was the first thing that I remember thinking about her. She was fun, and smart, and full of life. She had the ability to enjoy every minute of the day, every tiny beautiful or happy moment she had. The first months being her friend felt like waking up from a torpor I didn't know I was in. I learnt more about the world with her than with everything I had seen or read or heard before. She brought out the best of me – I owed her my newly acquired curiosity, my humour, my sense of adventure. Rose was a genuine rebel: she always questioned the rules – Hogwarts's, her parents', politicians' rules – not because she liked contradicting everything, but because she wanted to know why such rules were designed and why they were for. If she found out they were stupid, she wouldn't follow them. She wouldn't let anyone insult her intelligence and I admired her for that.

_Spending time – nearly all my time, to be exact – with Scorpius made me change. But in a very good way. I felt peaceful when he was around. He progressively cured me from my restlessness. I still hated to be ordered around, to be imposed with mindless rules, and I certainly set a record of detentions in my first years that would have made Uncle George proud. But his patience, his calm manners, his way of speaking his mind _after _carefully thinking about what he had to say taught me to be more humble and mature. He helped me grow out of the state of permanent rebellion I was in when I first arrived at Hogwarts. He made me grow up along with him and it felt incredibly good and natural and I admired him for that._

Then one morning something horribly wrong happened and I knew I had broken a rule that was now beyond repair. I was reading a book, confortably seated on the huge leather armchair closest to the fire, when Rose walked down the stairs of the girls' dormitories. It was a very sunny morning and the white winter sun illuminated the common room despite its being half underground. The light formed sort of a halo around her red-brown hair and her every feature shone with peaceful happiness when she acknowledge my presence. She smiled at me and it happened. It felt as if my heart had skipped a beat. Her beauty stroke me so hard I was surprised I could still manage to return her smile. How come I hadn't noticed it before? She was perfect, in every possible way. She walked up to me and casually sat next to me on the armchair. It was big, but not big enough for the both of us to sit comfortably. Her arm pressed against mine and the feel of her naked skin against my shirt made me tremble. What was wrong with me? We had been close like this before! It didn't mean anything, we were best friends! But I still couldn't look her in the eye as she told me about her plans for the day, her voice full of the enthusiasm I loved. After that, she got up, playfully ruffled my hair with her hand - another shiver down my spine, though she'd done this before - and left for breakfast. I was left alone, devastated that I had broken the most sacred rule of friendship without even intending to: never fall in love with your best friend.

_Sometime in our sixth year Scorpius started acting weird around me. He became more distant, started spending time with other people and I often caught him laughing loudly and boasting about Quidditch things around other girls. It made me desperately sad and I understood that despite my constant rule-breaking, there was one rule that I never wanted to change: the rule that said Scorpius and I are inseparable soulmates. I tried to reconnect with him but he wouldn't even look me in the eye, as if he'd done something wrong and was ashamed to tell me. But he could tell me anything and I'd still be his friend, didn't he know this? It hurt me so much. I already knew I couldn't live without him, but I never thought the day would come when I'd actually experience it. I was so depressed I eventually wrote my mum a letter about it. I was desperate for any kind of advice. She answered me very quickly, and her letter suggested me to confront him and tell him straight what his behaviour was doing to me. My mum added that it may not work, because boys hate the 'we have to talk' conversations, but Scorpius was probably different because he was my friend. After reading the letter, I decided I needed to act right now, because I couldn't stand another minte of this uncertainty. I went to look for Scorpius and I was ready to confront him._

I was sitting alone by the lake, daydreaming about how the April sun would play with Rose's hair if she was lying on the grass next to me. I hated myself for acting like a complete jerk around her lately. But I was afraid being too close to her would make me do or say something stupid that would ruin our friendship. But I knew my attitude would eventually ruin our friendship as well, and I didn't know what to do. So I just sat there, probably waiting for my problem to be magically solved, when I heard her voice calling me. I turned around, my face probably too alight with expectation, but instead of throwing herself in my arms and telling me she loved me too just like in my daydream, she started yelling at me. She told me everything, the way my behaviour hurt her a little more everyday, the fact that she couldn't understand what she did to push me away, the rule she wanted to keep safe, our friendship rule, because she couldn't imagine not having me in her life anymore. She thought maybe I was so used to her I wanted to discover something new now. Her eyes were full of tears but she wouldn't spill them in front of anyone, not even me, I knew it and I loved her for it. My brave, passionate Rose. She deserved the truth - how could have not tell her the truth before? I took her in my arms and she let me cradle her until her breathing slowed down. 'Rose.' I murmured in her hair. 'My problem is... I'm in love with you.'

_Somehow it didn't surprise me when I kissed Scorpius Malfoy. I even wondered how I could have been so blind as to hide my own feelings from myself. He told me he loved me and suddenly everything was so clear I wanted to laugh and jump around. I was in love with him too. I'd probably been in love with him since the day we met. I threw my head back a little to look at him and his perfection hit me, tore my heart into pieces. We smiled at each other, suddenly shy. 'I love you too,' I said in a breath, and then I kissed him. It was our first kiss ever, and deep down I knew I'd never wanted my first kiss from anyone else but him. So I guess we really _are _rule-breakers to our core. We had only one rule left unbroken, the tacit rule of friendship, and we broke it as soon as we could. But can you blame us? We are so made for each other. _


	19. S: Sex

_Hello everyone!_

_First of all thanks to all my lovely reviewers, and especially to __**lforever**__, whose reviews on this story and my other Scorpius/Rose story made my week! I'm so glad people still read 'New Souls', which was such a pleasure to write… __**lforever**__, as you're not logged in I can't answer your review by PM, so here __ Thanks!_

_The title for this chapter was submitted by __**fool2cry208**__ in a PM that made me laugh so much I decided to look past the clichés and write something about _sex_. Don't worry, this story is rated T but even this chapter is rather tame, I'm just not good at writing sex scenes, I usually prefer writing about what happens before/after._

_Two versions of this story below. I wrote them and then I couldn't choose. I'll let you guys decide…_

_**Disclaimer **__: sorry for the longest author's note of history, HP's not mine, unfortunately._

**S is for Sex**

When Rose wakes up that morning with a satisfied sigh, she's still slightly disoriented, her half-closed eyes still hazy from sleep, but she knows something is odd. First of all, those sheets aren't hers – she'd never, ever buy emerald green sheets, they just don't suit her complection. Second of all, this doesn't even look like her room – the light is different, stronger, and her room is oriented north-west, she never gets that much light in the morning. She squirms under the sheets, realising she's naked. Huh, funny, she never sleeps naked, and at this time of the year, she usually wears nighties to bed. She clumsily feels the bed around her, hoping to find some sign of where she is, and when she finds it – a warm, calmly breathing and totally naked body next to her – she jumps up screaming.

Her scream wakes up the other person lying next to her.

The boy sits right up on the bed and mumbles sleepily:

'Whazgonnon?'

She screams harder when she recognises his sleek platinum blond hair, more tousled than usual, and his slightly pointed, fine features. _Oh no._ Scorpius Malfoy.

He turns around, rubs his eyes with his fists – like a little boy, she thinks – and opens them. They're big, a rather amazing shade of greyish green, and they're wide open in shock.

'Weasley?' he yells.

'Malfoy!' she states.

'Wh-wha-what the hell?' he stammers widly.

'Tell me about it!'

'We're naked!'

'I know!', she cries back after a quick appraising look on his smooth, naked chest.

He stares blankly at her pale naked breasts for a while as well; she clicks her fingers in front of his face.

'Focus!'

'Oh, yeah, sorry,' he lowers his eyes hastily. 'What happened?' he ventures hesitantly.

'I don't know,' she sighs, running her hands in her hair which cascades down her back and on the pillow.

'We're naked,' he points out, dumbstruck.

'Oh, good point, Malfoy,' she sneers. 'I wonder why you don't beat me more often at tests.'

'I'm just saying,' he retorts, slightly offended. 'I mean, it could mean, you know…'

'…that we had _sex_ yesterday night?' she snaps.

He looks away thoughtfully. Her eyes follow the line of his jaw, the curve of his eyebrows, the length of his lashes. He _is_ sexy, isn't he?

'I remember something.'

'I remember something too,' she says in shock. Images flash past her eyes, and she remembers a moan, and hot lips pressing against her collarbone –

'I found you sitting on the couch in the common room, and I sat next to you and then we started talking…' he muses.

'And then, I remember thinking…'

'…that you looked so _hot_,' he lets out, and then he clasps his hands on his mouth, shocked by the words that just came out of it.

She just laughs.

'Thanks. You probably looked quite good yourself if I'm here with you now.'

But she remembers she _did_ think he looked hot. Actually, she starts remembering a lot of things that happened last night, the deliciously dangerous look in his eye, the fact that the only boy her father forbade is the boy she suddenly finds the most attractive of all –

'And then we talked,' he says, and she snaps back to reality.

'We talked about us,' she thinks aloud.

'We talked about our families, about how they always told us not to come too close to each other…'

'Oops,' she smirks.

'… and about the fact that we actually have a lot in common,' he finishes with a smile.

'Like what? We're both Head Boy and Girl?'

'I guess that's a start. We've repressed a lot about ourselves to please our families, Rose,' she flinches at the sound of her name, 'starting with the mutual attraction that brought us together last night, and that we conveniently forgot about in the morning.'

She stares at him over her brow.

'You _are_ attractive,' as if she notices it for the first time – she doesn't, she's always known it, it's only the first time she consciously acknowledges it.

'You're the prettiest, sexiest girl I've ever met,' he grins, leaning in.

She closes her eyes, lets him kiss her smiling lips.

'So how does it feel, having sex with a Malfoy?' he nudges her playfully.

'Mmh, really, really good, sir. I would recommand a Malfoy anytime, except it's just so exquisite I want to keep him all for myself,' she gives him an carnivorous smile.

'Please, feel free to keep him,' he takes her in his arms, 'I'm sure it'll make him very happy.'

'I will,' she sighs contentedly against his chest.

**I had never given much thought to the way I'd lose my virginity. **

**I wasn't scared of losing it, really. I knew it would come naturally, because I would want it, because I'd want the boy to whom I'd lose it. When I'd do it, it would be just the right time: no need for perfumed candles and silk sheets, it would be simple, gentle, pure. I wouldn't have sex with the first guy who'd pass me by on a drunken night. I was Rose Weasley, sensible, spontaneous, romantic – but not too cheesy about it – and I wanted my first time to be just like me. **

**Sure, I'd never given much thought to it, but I knew only one thing: I had never thought I would lose my virginity to Scorpius Malfoy.**

**And of course, that's who I lost it to. Because life never leads you where you expected, and sometimes, yes – **_**sometimes**_** it turns out to be better than what you expected.**

**I had just had a very big fight with my boyfriend, David, and I was half-heartedly sobbing on the couch of the Heads common room because that's what a girl's supposed to do when she's nearly broken up with her boyfriend. To be true, the fight didn't bother me that much. David was… **_**nice**_**, I guess, that was the right word. But there was nothing exciting about him. He was good-looking, good at sports, good at class. But he lacked the **_**je ne sais quoi**_** I expected of a man – someone who wouldn't be perfect, but who would stand out in a crowd, someone who would shake me to my core. **

**I wanted someone who would complete me, not just look at me with enamoured puppy dog eyes. I wanted a **_**man**_**, for Merlin's sake.**

**The convenient tears were almost dried out when Scorpius Malfoy, Slytherin Head Boy, walked through the portrait hole and in our Common Room. He stopped dead on his tracks when he saw me. I looked at him quizzically – he'd never paid me more attention than what our Head boy and girl duties required – and then I remembered my eyes were probably red and swollen from the crying and I felt slightly ashamed he had to see me like this.**

**Instead of laughing at me, he crossed the room in two steps and sat next to me, his arm around my shoulders, his voice concerned:**

'**Rose, what's wrong?'**

**I was too surprised to speak. He took my silence for shock – which it was, but probably not the same sort of shock he thought about.**

'**C'mon, Rose, you can tell me. I know we don't speak much to each other, but we're both Heads, and we're supposed to support each other.'**

'**It's David,' I managed to let out in a shaky sigh.**

**I noticed he squirmed uncomfortably next to me. **_**Boys**_**, I thought. Never good at relationship conversations, even when it's not about them. But he was going to make the effort and talk about it:**

'**So what's wrong with him?'**

'**Nothing's wrong with him. **_**Nothing**_**. That's the problem.'**

'**How can this be the problem?'**

**I turned my head towards him and looked him in the eye. He looked surprised, but he didn't flinch. I appreciated it.**

'**I'm not **_**perfect**_**. I don't do everything the way people expect me to. I like to live my life with a touch of fantasy, of unexpected, of surprise in it. And he's obviously too perfect to understand this.'**

'**What a prat,' sneered Malfoy.**

'_**Excuse me?**_**' **

**I was glad to have someone listen to me, even if it was Malfoy, but I certainly didn't expect this reaction from him. I can't say I was genuinely offended – David could be a prat, actually more often than not lately – but I still had to pretend. I had my dignity.**

'**Look at you, Rose. I mean, I don't know you very well, but I only have to see you to know someone as **_**dull**_** as him can't handle half the girl you are. We live together – almost literally – I know we're not friends but I've seen enough of you to know you've got a strong personality and dreams someone like David will never dream. I bet you never do anything like the others. So really, why bother with him?'**

**As he talked to me, I scanned his big grey eyes, bright with honesty – but also burning with something that looked instantly, deliciously dangerous to me. He was so close to me. His skin looked smooth and clean and soft, and when he moved half an inch closer, the clean scent of his white shirt and of his hair teased me. **

**It was irrational, but it felt incredibly good. I was suddenly very aware of his touch, the warmth of his arm resting on my shoulders, the tips of his fingers lingering on my arm, his body almost pressed against mine, than of his speech. How had I never noticed how damn sexy he was?**

**The revelation that I was attracted to the only boy my father had forbidden hit me so hard I probably looked rather dumbstruck. Scorpius looked closer at me, concern wrinkling his smooth brow.**

'**Rose? Are you alright?'**

'**Scorpius,' I said in a breath, eyes wide open.**

'**What?'**

**I leaned in and I kissed him. His lips were warm and smooth and he tasted as good as I imagined. After a second of shock, and as I was ready to pull away and apologise profusely for my inappropriate behaviour – he kissed me back. **

**He kissed me back like David had **_**never**_** kissed me. His kiss was gentle, yet rough, with a sense of emergency that immediately lit me on fire. His hands were running through my hair and I did the same, my fingers tugging at his sleek golden hair. He moaned in my mouth and then my fingers started acting on their own accord, unbuttoning his shirt and revealing his smooth chest which I instantly felt the need to kiss.**

**He held me tighly in his arms and it felt like the moment I had imagined. It was natural, simple, gentle, and pure. There was no need for perfumed candles, love songs and pink silk sheets. I wanted it, and I wanted him. I didn't stop to think about love – maybe I **_**was**_** in love, maybe I'd always been since the day I'd seen him on Platform 9 ¾ seven years ago. I only thought that this was the moment, and this was the boy – the one who was different, the one who was unreasonable, the one who would change my life.**


	20. T: Trouble

_Hello !_

_Thanks for everyone who reviewed last chapter. Seems like everybody liked the second version of the story better. At least now I know you're all hopeless romantics (but that's good, you should be) !_

_This one is not my favourite but I had to let Ron tell us how he feels about the whole Scorpius/Rose relationship. Sure, Ron is a bit caricatural but I believe the story of these two families and their various reactions are not so uncommon. That's why I like writing about them…_

_Disclaimer : if Harry Potter was mine, I would have definitely written a sequel about our next generation favourite couple…_

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**T for Trouble**

'_**I told you I was trouble  
**__**You know that I'm no good'**_

When he had seen the Malfoy family on Platform 9 ¾ seven years ago, Ron already knew little Scorpius would mean trouble. The boy looked a lot like his father at the same age – Ron still vividly remembered his first encounter with Draco when they were eleven, when the haughty boy had told Harry not to hang out with him because all the Weasleys were the same – they had red hair and freckles and more children than they could afford. Draco's words still stung somehow. But his son looked smarter, nicer, and much more mature. And _that_ was the problem. If Draco's son looked like a little rat bastard, Ron would have felt reassured: there was no way his little Rosie would befriend such a jerk. But Scorpius actually looked like a good boy – Ron had to admit his his education was proof Draco himself had changed since Hogwarts – therefore there was a risk Rose would like him.

His biggest mistake was to tell Rose not to get too friendly with Scorpius. He should have let Hermione do it. After all, she'd always been subtler than him – and definitely better at female psychology – and she could have let her daughter know about the dangers Scorpius Malfoy represented without making him suddenly, irresistibly attractive to her. _Teenagers_, he scoffed. Tell them not to do something, and be sure they'll do it the minute you're out of the way.

It hadn't missed. Scorpius and Rose became best friends on their first train ride to Hogwarts. Draco had probably said something along the same lines to his son, so the first thing Scorpius and Rose did as soon as they borded the Hogwarts Express was to look for one another and then sit in the same compartment and talk until the train arrived in Hogsmead station. By the time they were Sorted – both in Gryffindor, what a shame – they were inseparable.

Scorpius meant trouble and Ron had been spot on about it. Or did _Rose_ mean trouble for him? No, that was impossible, his sweet little Rosie was only too impressionable, _he_ was the bad influence…Together the teenagers set a new detention record on their first years. Ron remembered how mad he was when he got a letter from the Headmistress telling him his daughter had been caught smoking – and she made it quite clear Rose hadn't been smoking _cigarettes_ – in a corner of a corridor on the third floor with Scorpius Malfoy after curfew. Hermione almost had to beg him not to send a Howler to Scorpius, telling him it wasn't his business but Draco's and Astoria's. Well he thought it was his business as well, but he let his wife decide on this one. He never forgave Scorpius for that – he never forgave him because from that moment on, not only Ron had proof Scorpius was bad news, but he also started suspecting his daughter wasn't the pure little angel he thought she was either. He never told anyone the conclusion he had come to, but it was the biggest disillusion he experienced in his life.

Oh, wait, no, this wasn't the _worst_ disillusion of his life. The worst was when last summer he found out Scorpius and Rose were dating – that they'd been dating for a while actually. Yeah, _definitely_ the worst one. One evening, mid-July, Rose had announced she was leaving for three weeks with Scorpius. Ron had felt anger rise in his throat and he barely managed to keep his voice normal as he asked her where and why she was leaving. Rose had answered very casually, saying she was going to visit Paris and then head for the south of France with Scorpius – who was her boyfriend now, by the way. Ron had choked on his gulp of pumpkin juice and then he had started yelling at everybody in the house – it was the worst night he'd had in a long time. Rose had thrown him a cool look and locked herself in her bedroom. Hermione had looked pained, but also a little proud that her daughter stood up for what she wanted – which made Ron even more furious. His daughter stopped talking to him for weeks and the postcard with a picture of the Eiffel Tower she sent home was written only for _'Mum'_. It took them another month after Rose returned to come back on speaking terms, and that was only because Ron put his ego aside and sent his daughter a long letter in which he apologised for his behaviour. The only reason why he lowered himself to do this was because he got so scared he might lose Rose forever – and that she might not even care because now she was so happy with _Scorpius_ – that he decided a letter which would help them make up was worth writing.

And now Rose had graduated from Hogwarts and she was starting a career as a journalist and she was moving in with Scorpius in a little flat in London. And Ron couldn't avoid the fact that she was happier than he had ever wished her to be. She shone with happiness and Ron just knew – although he'd rather keep lying to himself – that she and Scorpius made a beautiful couple. They seemed to be on the same wavelength about everything, they laughed all the time and she always smiled when he was around.

So eventually Ron was forced to admit Scorpius Malfoy wasn't as much trouble as he thought he would be. Well, not for _Rose_, anyway. The real trouble was, Ron had always thought no boy would ever be good enough for his little Rosie and now she had found the perfect one for her, well, what could he do? He just had to let her be happy – because what's a little trouble for a father (especially one who had faced Voldemort in his younger years)? Nothing really, as fathers worrying about their daughters and daughters going on with the life they want is all part of a good, full life. And once Ron admitted that, he was finally able to enjoy how _lucky _he was - lucky that his daughter was lucky enough to have seen past the trouble and past the prejudices that surrounded Scorpius Malfoy.

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_Please let me know what you thought... Review!_


	21. U: Unicorn

_Hello everybody!_

_I'm watching a football match while I write this. Frankly I'm not a big fan but I find that World Cups always bring a touch of excitment (and a lot of partying) to everyday life, so... yeah, it's fun to watch._

_A big thank you to all my lovely reviewers: I love knowing that you read this story and that you like it (or at least want to share your thoughts with me about it!). So keep reading, reviewing and I'll keep answering every review and updating as often as I can._

* * *

**U for Unicorn**

'I can't do it.'

Scorpius Malfoy had never looked so nervous. As long as Rose had known him, he had always been his usual cool, aloof, haughty self. And now he was almost shaking, his face turning a greyish shade of pale, his eyes restlessly going from the edge of the Forbidden Forest to the dark silhouette of the castle now behind them. And were these his teeth clattering? Rose couldn't suppress a nasty smirk.

'Oh yes, Malfoy, you can and you will,' she spat, shoving him forward. 'Don't expect me to pity you: after all, you're the reason we're here tonight.'

Malfoy mumbled _Lumos_ and stepped past the first row of trees, checking every other second that Rose was walking beside him.

'It was just a little prank,' he moaned, resigned. 'It's you who overreacted!'

'How is slaping your ugly face _overreacting _when you lit my hair on fire?'

He smirked, and for a second she saw the real Malfoy (what he the real one? or was his sneer just a façade? She couldn't tell anymore, now that they were making their way deeper and deeper into the Forest) reappear on his pale face.

'Well, your hair already looks like a freakin' bonfire, Weasley, and I couldn't help wondering if it would catch fire as easily.'

Rose self-consciously ran her hand in her mass of curly red hair. She'd never been comfortable with it, but sometimes she liked to think people noticed her strong personality before her embarassingly space-consuming bush of fiery hair. She didn't know what to say so she went for the usual hurtful retort.

'I just hope your cheek still hurts from the slap I gave you. How does it feel, Malfoy, to be beaten up by a girl?'

That was low, even by their standards. They'd spent all these years constantly bickering and squabbling and now she realised she just couldn't help being mean to him, even when they were in such eerie surroundings. But Scorpius had never made fun of the fact she was a girl – proof that despite their fights he'd always considered her as an equal – and she hated herself for bringing a macho tone to their argument.

As she expected, Malfoy replied smartly. As she _didn't _expect, he said:

'I just loved the feel of your hand on my cheek, Weasley. We should do that again. Just be gentler next time.'

And he winked at her. He _winked_. It was cliché, but kind of sexy too. _Sexy_? Really? Something squirmed in Rose's stomach, something that had nothing to do with tonight's dinner and everything to do with her accelerated heart beat. Merlin, was there something in the air in that damned Forest? Something that made Malfoy less obnoxious and more… _interesting_? She decided to pretended she hadn't noticed.

They walked in silence for a while, going round the huge trees and avoiding their roots tangled on the ground. Rose felt stronger fear wash over her as they stepped deeper into the Forest. Fortunately, the ridiculous prank had taken place during one of Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures classes, so he was the one who chose what they'd do during their detention. Hagrid was wary about Scorpius but loved Rose. Despite that, Rose was proud to see he hadn't favoured her and had included her in the detention. Hagrid was sentimental, but fair. And the fear she felt was probably irrational, as Hagrid would never assign them a really dangerous task. Probably. She just wondered how they would find _them_, and what they'd do when – if – they did.

Rose was lost in thought when she felt a hand grab her shoulder and Malfoy's voice whisper: 'Stop.'

Malfoy never whispered, and so instantly goosebumps erupted where his warm breath had struck her neck.

And then she saw something that, combined with the disturbingly sensual presence of Malfoy, left her breathless.

A unicorn was standing in the middle of the clearing ahead of them, her long mane and tail almost brushing the ground, and she was such a pure, halo-like shade of white that at first they didn't notice _them_. But after their eyes adjusted to the glow, they saw two unicorn foals appear from behind their mother on their shaky, slender legs. The baby unicorns pressed against their mother's flank and looked at their visitors with a mixture of interest and fear, their big eyes wide open with curiosity.

There was a moment of utter awe and Scorpius were frozen on the spot, gaping at the extraordinary unicorn family in front of them. They didn't know how long they stayed like this, but at some point Rose noticed her hand was in Scorpius's and that it felt warm and oh so wonderfully weird. She left her hand where it was and enjoyed the moment.

'You should go,' he said, after a longer while, his voice so low she almost missed what he said.

'Alright. Take it,' she answered on the same tone. She detached her hand from his, as if it had never happened. She put her hand in her schoolbag, took a battered photo camera out of it and handed it to Scorpius. 'Remember Hagrid's instructions: he wants good pictures for his next Care of Magical Creatures class, as he doesn't know if we'll be able to find them when all the class is together and we're so many. So no more than a dozen photos, and take them quick. As long as a girl stands next to them, the mother won't panick and she won't try to attack us.'

He nodded and she took a few steps forward until she was out in the open of the clearing, carefully approaching the unicorns, one hand extended in front of her as a sign of peace. She came close to the adult unicorn and put her hand on her head. The unicorn flinched slightly but then let Rose strike her head and mane gently. The foals approached Rose, their walk adorably clumsy, and they put their tiny heads under her other hand. Like kittens, they wanted to be caressed, and Rose stroke their little foreheads lightly. She felt her eyes fill with tears brought by the unicorns unbearable cuteness, and in any other circumstance she would have hated Malfoy to see her like this. But when she looked up at him, a lopsided smile on her face, she saw he looked just as moved as she felt. It was one of these moments that you'd never expect to share with the person you've teased and bickered with all your life – but when they happen, they create a special bond between their witnesses.

Scorpius was so taken by the scene happening in front of him that he'd forgotten to take the pictures. When his eyes met Rose's, he remembered his task and started taking photos as fast as he could. The adult unicorn looked nervous but Rose's presence seemed to soothe her just enough so she could bear the clicking noises of the camera. The foals, however, seemed fascinated and walked up to Scorpius, their big-eyed heads bobbing up and down as they clumsily made their way towards him.

Rose stopped stroking the unicorn, and watched the baby unicorns stare at Scorpius as he put the camera down, slightly embarassed and a little nervous. They all stayed like this for what felt like a minute, or an hour – maybe even a little more – and then the foals returned to their mother, their curiosity satisfied, and Rose walked back to Scorpius, too overwhelmed to speak.

As they watched the unicorns leave the clearing, as quietly and peacefully as they had appeared, Scorpius took Rose's hand, and she smiled.


	22. V: Vanity

_Arrhh. I've never been less inspired for a story. So I just used the most (which is to say, not very) inspiring word I could find for 'V' and quickly wrote something about it. It's very, very short. Please don't hate me? (puppy-dog eyes)  
_

_I just wanted to skip this one and write about 'W'… What do you think it should be? **Weasley**, or **wedding** (idea : **xxx-angelin-xxx**), or (Quidditch/soccer) **World Cup** (idea : **yellow 14**) or something else entirely?_

_Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

_

* * *

_

**V for Vanity**

All her life, Rose Weasley has had only one fear: that people will think she is vain. She knows – or rather, hopes – she isn't. But it's easy to understand what she's afraid of. She's the daughter of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, War heroes, friends of Harry Potter – her uncle by marriage, incidentally – and two of the most talented wizards and witches of their time. Her father has an important job at the International Quidditch Federation, and her mother is Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry for Magic. And, as the cherry on top of the cake, Rose is very bright herself, she always has the best grades in her classes and most of the boys at Hogwarts rank her in the top five prettiest girls of school.

Yes, it could be so easy for her to just be vain. Because somehow she already has everything, beauty, talent, a famous and influent family, and she can stop there. But vanity is not one of her flaws. She hates the feeling of being under a spotlight everywhere she goes. She wishes people wouldn't assume she must be good, nice and pretty _because_ she's a Weasley. She works hard to prove everyone wrong: she's not who she is only because she's the daughter of Ron and Hermione, she is who she is because that's the person she wants to be and works to be.

Therefore, she is amazed when she finds out she _is_ a little vain after all. The day Scorpius Malfoy asks her out – it's on February 13th, the day before the Valentine's Day trip at Hogsmeade – she can't help but feel a little proud. A pride she doesn't deserve. She's all smug because the boy every Hogwarts girl fantasizes about – her included – asks _her_ out. For _Valentine's_. She has no idea how exactly it happened – why Malfoy wants to invite her – but she doesn't care, the most important piece ofinformation of the day being that Scorpius Malfoy fancies _her_! (she feels like adding a lot more exclamation points and _OMG_s to this sentence but she restrains herself. A little vanity, but not too much, please. She'd rather die than sound like a squeaky giggly girl).

And the least vain girl of Higwarts, Rose Weasley, subsenquently spends the next 24 hours getting her hair, her makeup and her outfit ready for her date. And I'd bet that if Scorpius knew he had the power to make Rose Weasley as superficial and vain as any other girl he has ever asked out, I'm sure he would never, _ever_ believe it.


	23. W: Wedding

_Hello everybody!_

_Thanks sooo much for your patience. These last few weeks have been pretty busy (a real pain actually :)) and I neither had time to update nor to review my favorite stories... Sorry!_  
_I started writing this chapter a while ago though. Almost everyone asked for 'Wedding', so I figured, why not? I already wrote a story where Scorpius asks Rose to marry him, didn't I?_

_Hope you like it! Oh, and BTW, I really, really don't know what to write for 'X', so any ideas, even funny or crazy, are welcome!_

_Disclaimer: HP is not mine. If it were, there WOULD be a sequel about Scorpius and Rose!_

* * *

**W for Wedding**

I've thought about this moment since I was, I don't know, four, five years old and my cousins and we were playing bride and bridesmaids with my cousins. Victoire usually played the bride, a ribbon of white satin tied around her blond ponytail. She was already the prettiest of us all, no competition here, but we never had hard feelings for her because she also always was the nicest, kindest of us all. I was just a bridesmaid and I used to look at Victoire and dream about my own wedding day.

And here I am today, standing in front of the huge mirror of my grandmother's room at the Burrow. My dress is as perfect as I've always imagined it to be: strapless, ivory-white, a big bow nestled in the small of my back, but otherwise very simple. Its pure, minimalistic shape emphasizes my fiery mess of a hair (Victoire tried to ease my frizzy curls into something straighter, but to no avail). I really like the result. Very like me. Well, like me on my wedding day. I look exactly as I've planned to look on that day since I was four. The only thing is, that's pretty much the only thing that has gone according to my plans. And right here, for a second, this kind of scares me a little.

Fortunately, my thoughts don't linger on this too long: Lily's head pops from behind the door.

'Here comes the briiiide' she sings, and I laugh. The tension breaks instantly. Here's the first thing that doesn't go according to plan: there should be tension, right? This is the most important day of my life. And yet it feels so normal to stand here in a big white dress, because my cousin Lily is still able to make me laugh like any other day.

'Come on,' she says, holding her hand out to me, 'he's waiting for you.'

And this is the second thing that certainly didn't go according to the plan. You may even say it went _against_ the plan completely. If you're just wondering what the hell I'm talking about, I'll tell you: I'm talking about _the groom_. In my childhood fantasies I was supposed to marry one of the good guys, Prince Charming in a wizard version. As I walk down the stairs, my girl cousins gathered around me and our procession walks out in the garden where a white tent is set out and all my friends and relatives sit up from rows of little white chairs facing the altar.

In front of the altar, my future husband stands tall and dignified, his platinum blond hair lightly brushed back, his eyes shining with pride and emotion: Scorpius Malfoy.

I told you the plan initially didn't include _this_ groom.

And yet here we are. My father joins us where the white silk carpet begins, to lead me down the aisle. He smiles at me, half ironic, half proud, and he holds out his elbow so I can take his arm. We walk together, we don't talk, but we both remember how much we fought over this relationship, this wedding, this marriage, and how eventually he made his peace with my choice. Actually, all the fighting only made me fully understand how much I loved Scorpius. I never gave up on him, and I'm glad I didn't. Because I'm pretty sure today's worth it.

After the ceremony everyone gathers under another tent a little further, where a dancefloor and tables covered with food and bottles of champagne are waiting for the guests. My cousins James and Fred immediately find some girls to chat up and dance with, and the party begins.

Scorpius and I open the dance with a waltz. We swirl around the dancefloor and I can feel everyone's eyes upon us. But Scorpius doesn't seem to feel self-conscious (he never does, that's one thing among so many others that I admire in him): one hand gently resting on the small of my back, he holds me tight, his cheek against my hair, and I'm sure nobody notices he speaks to me while we dance.

'Thanks for saying 'I do'', he chuckles near my ear. In spite of the obvious joking tone, I can't help but shiver with his breath so close to my neck.

'Yeah, it took me some time to get there, but I finally made up my mind, didn't I?' I joke back.

'Thanks for taking this decision, then.'

'Oh, I didn't have much choice. I just can't live without you. It was an easy choice, knowing this, really.'

He doesn't say anything, but I know he's moved, because he raises his head above mine and pretends to look at the crowd dancing around us. I lay my head against his chest and I smile.

Slowly, the rest of the party joins us and starts waltzing around us, couples looking at us with a grin and giving us blessings and friendly nods. I dance with my father after that, Scorpius dances with his mother, we all end up dancing to pop songs and amazingly, everyone seems to get along. I even spot my father and Uncle Harry with Scorpius's dad, shaking hands and patting each other's backs and laughing at each other's jokes – they look rather tipsy but still, I remain rooted to the spot for a few seconds until my brain processes this groundbreaking piece of information: so they _can_ get along after all.

The sun sets late and nobody really wants to leave. I'm now standing on the edge of the dancefloor, fondly watching our friends and families have fun and celebrate our special day, when Scorpius comes and takes my hand and leads me a little further in the garden, away from the music and the laughs and the crowd.

We walk together in silence in the grass, and the sounds coming from the tents only add serenity to that already peaceful moment. We stop and turn to look at the party, still holding each other's hands.

'I have to confess something,' I say.

'Please don't tell me you're already married,' he answers with a mock-frightened voice.

'Apart from you, not that I know of,' I chuckle back, and then: 'I guess I just spent the entire day wondering when it would all blow up – when our fathers would start duelling or our guests would start fighting. And then, I saw my father and your father and they seemed to be able to talk to each other like good friends would, and I realised, _nothing_ would blow up. Nothing would go wrong. We've already faced the hardest. Now it's all good.'

'Guess love eventually solves everything, doesn't it?' he says gently.

I sigh and put my arm around his waist. It feels just perfect. Just right.

'It was a beautiful wedding day,' I say.

He squeezes my hand.

'It's only the beginning.'

* * *

_So, what did you think? Reviews are always welcome, so feel free to leave one, thanks :))_


	24. X: X

_Hello everyone!_

_Thank you sooo much for all your reviews and especially for the great ideas you gave me for 'X'. Some of them were obvious, others rather... scientific and some totally crazy and I LOVED it!_  
_So here's what I made of it. I think some of you will find their own input in this chapter... Tell me what you thought about it!_

_Also, I'm leaving for holidays for a month. So no updates until end of August! But I promise I'll finish this story when I'm back. And I'll also start writing another one when I'm away... **I was thinking about using one of the one-shots I wrote for "A to Z". And now you have it in your hands to decide! Write me a review or send me a PM about the chapter you liked the most and you think could inspire a good story. **And I'll take your votes into consideration! :)_

_Have a wonderful summer!_

* * *

**X for... well, X**

It could have been an ordinary Calculus class. Professor Launey has given them a set of math problems to solve, all of them including an _x_ they're supposed to find.

Every head in the classroom is bent over the math papers, every quill is moving frenetically but silently on parchment.

Yet Rose Weasley is not writing, but stares idly out the window instead, thinking about another _x_ which she can't find an answer to.

Scorpius Malfoy is sitting a few rows away from her and he is writing on this parchment with an air of deep inspiration on his face. A few weeks ago, during a particularly dull Calculus class, she and Scorpius started something she can only refer to as flirting, although all they did was exchange little notes on pieces of parchment they discreetly sent to one another during Professor Launey's endless lectures about algorithms and square roots.

It all started with a joke. Scorpius sent her a note about an ink stain she had on the tip of her nose. She sent him back a note calling him a liar and telling him to get lost. But she added a little winking face at the end of her sentence to make it nicer. She couldn't help it. To her surprise, he answered back, and somehow, over time, the notes became more intimate – bolder, hotter, more flirtatious. And now she hates the fact they have had a surprise test and they can't play this game today.

Just when she thinks it's all lost, a piece of folded paper lands in her lap. She almost jumps up, turning around to look at Malfoy, who is impeccably acting like a very innocent and very absorbed student at his table.

She unfolds the note.

_'So, we have to find what _x_ stands for, right? Let me tell you. _X_ stands for X-factor. I have no idea why I'm drawn to you, Rose. It shouldn't be like this. You shouldn't be able to make me laugh, to make me think, to make me question everything I've been taught before. And yet there's this inexplicable chemistry between us, there's a something, an _x_ I'm still looking for, that makes it right. Tell me, Rose, should I go on with this despite the big unknown _x_ that stands between us? Should I believe in that X-factor that seems to make it all work?'_

Swallowing hard, her head hazy and her hand shaking, she tears a piece of parchment and writes without thinking:

_'_X_ stands for xenophilia. Scorpius, you couldn't be more of a stranger to me if you came from Patagonia. You're the complete opposite of me. I should be wary around you. Even a little scared of you. I mean, not only my father warned me against you, but the entire recent history of the wizarding world tells me to stay away from you. And yet, I can't help but feel fascinated. You attract me in a funny way. You make me laugh. You're so smart. I want to get to know you better despite my better judgment. I guess that's what's called xenophilia, right?'_

Incredible, how all my inhibitions disappear when we communicate through written notes, she thinks. I would never be able to tell him half of what I just wrote if I had to say it to his face. And I'm sure it's the same for him.

Just then, another note falls on her table.

_'_X_ stands for x-rated. My beautiful Rose, I know it doesn't show, but since I've got to 'talk' to you lately, I developed this quite strange obsession. I fantasize about your lips, I sometimes imagine I run my fingers through your red curls, I dream of pressing my lips against the white skin of your collarbone. And, well, so many more things that I feel too shy to write down on this paper. This note is not yet x-rated…'_

She grabs her quill as soon as she finishes reading.

_'X stands for x-traordinary. Scorpius, don't be shy. The fact that you dare write these things to me and the fact that you know I won't be the least offended show me you must know me much better than you think. And if you mastered this in just a few notes exchanged during Calculus, then it must be that you're quite an extraordinary person. Well, I can't say I didn't suspect that already. And I'm sure you and I would make quite an extraordinary couple, in every way, if we gave it a try. Wanna bet?'_

She sends the note and just when it leaves her hands a feeling of panic crashes upon her. How could she do this? Is she crazy? This note basically asks him out! What if he says no? – she has obviously forgotten about the previous one he sent, but doubt is a natural ingredient of the equation…

She slowly turns around and catches his smiling grey eyes when he nods her a yes. Heart beating fast, a ridiculous grin on her face, she turns to her paper and write a quick _'x=2'_ at the bottom of the parchement. Test time is up, and she just hopes she's done the math right.


	25. Y: Young

_Hello everyone!_

_I don't know if I'm happy about it, but I'm definitely back. And so here's chapter 'Y', for which I got the idea thanks to **Forever4**. Thanks a lot!_  
_I've also just started writing a new story, but I will only publish it when this one is complete. One chapter left, so if you have any funny, quirky, fluffy ideas for 'Z', let me know!_

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine and I'm definitely not making any profit of this._

_Unbetaed._

* * *

**Y for Young**

They were young back then, and they didn't really know what they were doing. She was passionately in love with him because he was the only forbidden boy of Hogwarts. He was already sexy and good-looking, he was witty and smart, but the fact that she _couldn't_ have him made him incredibly desirable and she threw herself in his arms as soon as she had the opportunity.  
And he was madly attracted to her, because she was everything he wasn't. She had hair as fiery as her temper, she was crazy yet intelligent, she was beautiful yet funny. All the boys their age wanted her – so, naturally, he had to have her. And he did.

_They_ did. They were Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley, the most beautiful, glamorous, fascinating couple of Hogwarts. He was ice and she was fire. They were so much more everything than the others. And it lasted for seven years after their seventh year at Hogwarts.

They were young, and they were in love with the idea of being in love. Rose looked in Scorpius's eyes and saw how extraordinary a couple they made. Scorpius stroke Rose's hair when she slept and he loved the idea of being with such a strikingly beautiful woman. They both relished the fact that all the heads turned to look at them when they walked down a street – any street, wizard or Muggle alike. Their couple always brought attention to them.

Until one evening, at a fancy restaurant in Chelsea, they realised they had nothing more to say to each other.

Rose understood that because, for the first time in ten years, she felt bored in Scorpius's company and caught herself wondering when the waiter would bring the damn dessert so that they could get over with this long evening. The moment the thought crossed her mind, she was horrified. Boredom didn't go well with her idea of passionate love. She had never thought of Scorpius as _boring_ before. And she didn't want to think about her man as boring either. So what was wrong with her?  
Scorpius, for the first time in ten years, found himself discreetly checking out the waitresses and memorizing the swaying of their black skirts tightly hugging their hips. He did that for almost all the evening and suddenly, when their waiter brought their desserts – crème brûlée for Rose and lemon pie for him – it stroke him he hadn't checked out Rose like this tonight. To be honest, he hadn't looked at her like this for days – weeks – maybe _months_, because he couldn't really remember feeling about her the way he'd just felt about the swaying skirts around him. He felt ashamed and he remained quiet and thoughtful for the rest of the evening. He couldn't understand what was wrong with him.

In truth, nothing was wrong with them. When they met, they were too young to know that passion didn't last forever, and that passion could turn into love after a few years. They had enjoyed the passion without wondering what would happen the day it would end. That evening, when their relationship turned from passion to love, they weren't able to recognize it. All they could do was regret the passion they had lost.

This is how Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy ended. They were just a little older than before, but they still didn't know what they were doing. He was no longer forbidden to her, and she was no longer attractive to him, and this was enough to break them up.

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_ This one is short so even a teeny tiny review will be nice :)_


	26. Z: Zest

_Hello everyone!_

_This is the last one-shot of the series... So thanks for sticking with me from A to Z! Hope you had fun with all the different stories and all the different Roses and Scorpiuses I wrote, cause I did._  
_I'm writing a new story about Rose and Scorpius. I'll put the first chapter on line in a few days. Let me know if you're interested in reading it and I'll PM you with the name of the story!_

_Have a nice weekend!_

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter's written my JK Rowling, not LP Castle ;)_

* * *

**Z for Zest**

Some people are different, you know. Some people just live their lives with zest when most of us just drag ourselves through the days. And when I say _some_ people, I actually mean _very few_ people. Because the vast majority of people I know – my parents, my friends, even my teachers, I'm sure – just… exist. They laugh, they cry, they work, they teach, they share some of my secrets, but mostly, they just take a certain amount of space and seem to just wait for something to happen to them before they die.

For a long time I thought everyone was like this. I was like this too. That is, until I met Rose Weasley.

Like all the best friendships, I can't tell you when or where it started. It doesn't work like this. One day, I wasn't friends with her, not that I didn't know who she was but I had never had the opportunity to actually meet her – and the next day, she was there.

Well, she is a little more than a friend. I think I have a little crush on her. I would never do anything and act on it because the most important thing for me is to have her around, and I don't want to lose her. It's common knowledge that people who go out and then break up don't stay friends. And I really, really want her to be my friend forever.

But I'm digressing.

Rose has a zest for life. I don't know where she got it – I've met her parents and they're great people, survivors, heroes, whatever, but they don't burn with the same enthusiasm, the same flame that shines in Rose's eyes. Rose doesn't just sit back and wait for things to happen or not happen to her. She _makes_ things happen. She likes to create opprtunities and take them, and she also likes to be surprised by life and sometimes go with the flow – but when she does, she's fully aware and enjoying every tiny moment of it.

I call her Orange Zest. Because she's bitter and sweet, refreshing and rough, red-haired and pale-skinned, and she definitely brings a little something in my life, just like orange zest brings a different, fresh note in a chocolate cake. She laughs at me and calls me Lemon Pie, because she thinks I'm surprisingly sweet for someone so silver-blond and haughty-featured. I just hope she'll never call me that in front of my father.

It's funny how some friendships can settle in your life and change it so deeply you wake up one morning and you're not the same person – just because you have this friend in your life. This is how I wake up every morning since I've met Rose: I'm happy, whether it's sunny or raining, whether it's Monday or Saturday, whether I've had a bad mark the day before or not. I'm definitely not the same person anymore. I've changed. But I don't really mind, because I like myself better with a zest.

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_This one was about friendship... a little preview for my next story!_

_Thanks for reading,_  
_LPC_


End file.

Harry Potter, Hurt-Comfort, Romance