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The Golden Game by hermioneism
Format: Short story
Chapter 2: Head Games
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Aragog would not be dead, the sorting hat would have a feather plume, and Hermione would have ended up with Draco... so I guess we are all glad JKR is JKR and I am me... except for the Hermione and Draco thing. I would not have minded that. :)
Chapter 2: Head Games
Rose sat up groggily in her bed, pulling back the curtains and wondering why exactly she already felt like this was going to be one of those days. It was only 6:00 AM!
She sighed. Images of last night suddenly poured into her mind. Her sigh became a groan.
I cannot believe I did that. I… I kissed him back. Scorpius friggin’ Malfoy! I am so stupid! I cannot face him today. Thank Merlin it is Sunday.
Deciding to hide out in her room all day, she let herself fall back down onto her bed and promptly pulled her pillow over her head. Maybe if I suffocate, I will never have to deal with this… I wonder if I was sorted into the wrong house? I certainly don’t feel very Gryffindor!
She groaned again, the sound muffled by layers of fluffy Down.
“Knock, knock! Rosie-Posie-Button-Nosey! It’s me! I need to talk to you. You will never believe what Albus said to me last night…” a cheerful feminine voice trilled lightly.
Rose heard her door creak open and quickly pretended to be asleep.
Not even bothering to acknowledge the fact that Rose’s face was hidden by a Holyhead Harpies pillow, Rose’s best girlfriend Brianna Zabini sprawled on the bed next to her and giggled.
Drat. She knows I’m awake. And now I’m curious.
Rose sighed and pulled the pillow away from her face to gaze into the ecstatic midnight-blue eyes staring back at her.
“Good morning to you, too, Bree. Do you realize that it is 6:00 AM? On a Sunday? I knew I was going to regret giving you my password…” Rose stated with as much stern disapproval as she could manage. Think McGonagall. Think McGonagall. Think McGonagall… she chanted to herself.
Bree chose to ignore her friend’s sour demeanor and instead squeeled, “Oh, Rose, he finally did it! He asked me to Hogsmeade! Your favorite cousin, the gorgeous Albus Potter, Slytherin Hottie-That-Now-I’ve-Gottie, asked me to Hogsmeade!”
Rose could not help the smile that crept up on her face. She was truly happy for her friend, and knew that Bree and Albus would make a wonderful couple. They were after all both charming, devious, fun, energetic, smart and proudly Slytherin.
“That’s brilliant, Bree! I am so happy for you! When did this happen?” Rose asked, now sitting up and hugging her friend.
“Oh, it was during the Ravenclaw victory party – which I missed you at, by the way, but we’ll get to your lack of a social life later – oh! he was so charming! He asked me in front of loads of people, everyone was there! He blushed and everything! And I think he actually asked Brayden’s permission first, if you can believe it!” Bree was positively beaming.
Rose could believe it. It was well-known that Brayden Zabini was fiercely protective of his twin sister. Sharing his exotic looks of soft, licorice-colored hair and almost-purple eyes (the twins thankfully had few of Pansy’s features), Bree was considered a hot commodity among the Hogwarts’ males. If anyone wanted to actually stand a chance of dating Brianna long-term, they knew they would first have to go through Brayden. Albus was no exception, regardless of the fact that he and Brayden got on better than most guys Bree dated.
“Really, Bree, this is terrific. Al has liked you for ages, I’ve told you that. It’s not my fault both of you have been too chicken to do anything about it. Its truly no wonder neither of you ended up as Gryffindors!,” Rose teased.
Rose stood and pulled her trunk open, looking for her bath essentials. Finding the small charmed carry-all (a smart hand-me-down from her mother which could literally carry the kitchen sink), she turned to Bree who was staring dreamily up at the stars painted on the ceiling.
“I’m fancying a lazy dip in the tub. Feel free to stay here if you’d like, or else I will see you in the Great Hall at 8:00 AM?” Without waiting for a reply, Rose pulled at the hem of her black babydoll pyjama (a gift from Victoire on her seventeenth birthday) and walked over to the door that connected her room to the spacious bathroom she shared with Scorpius.
She let herself into the bathroom and absentmindedly willed her feet to carry her over to the tub, her eyes down and hands sifting through the various toiletries in the cosmetics bag she was carrying. Am I out of my favorite Gardenia shampoo? I could have sworn I just put a new bottle in here!
Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as she walked straight into something hard.
“Ooof!” She gasped.
She quickly jerked her head up, dropping her cosmetics bag in the process. She found herself staring into the smoke-colored eyes of a freshly-showered Scorpius Malfoy, clad in nothing but dark blue silk pyjama pants.
Scorpius had an amused expression on his face. He had grasped her forearms to prevent her from falling backward, and was now leaning forward.
Merlin! Not again!
Rose held her breath.
His voice was husky, perhaps on purpose or perhaps due to the early hour. He whispered next to her left ear, “What a fetching outfit. Can’t say I’d mind terribly waking up to you wearing that every morning, Flower.” And with a smirk and a delicate kiss to her cheek, he released Rose’s arms and sauntered out of the room, chuckling softly as he pulled his door shut.
Rose silently counted to twelve. When she was sure she could no longer hear any sounds coming from the direction of Scorpius’ bedroom, she let out the breath she had been holding.
And then she fainted.
Yup. Definitely going to be one of those days.
*** The Quidditch Pitch ***
It had been one hour since Scorpius had last touched her soft bed-warmed skin, and he could still feel Rose at his fingertips. Man, I have to control myself. I will end up looking like a smarmy git if all I can do is drool at her. But, ahhhhh…
As he sat on his Firebolt Series Seven flying lazy circles around the Quidditch pitch while most of the castle slept the day away, Scorpius let his thoughts wander to the best moment of his life: kissing Rose.
Though he admittedly was a bit tipsy from the Firewhiskey someone snuck in to the Ravenclaw Common room for the victory party (Scorpius suspected Vince, but as Head Boy he would be required to dock points from his own house if he knew this, so he did not ask), Scorpius would never, not in a thousand lifetimes, forget the feel of Rose Weasley’s lips on his own.
They were delicate. Like flower petals. It was poetic, really: his Rose had rose-petal lips.
He smirked the infamous Malfoy-smirk. And her sleep attire does not leave much to the imagination, either. Who knew the petite Gryffindor bookworm had it in her?
Scorpius’ thoughts were interrupted by someone from the ground calling up to him. He looked down. Brayden was trying to get his attention and looking rather put-out.
Feeling somewhat guilty and wondering how long Brayden had been there, Scorpius sighed and angled the broom lower for landing.
“What is it, Zabini? I have a lot on my mind,” Scorpius asked briskly as he dismounted from his broom and walked over to his best mate.
“What happened last night, mate? You kinda fell into your portrait hole and let it slam in Vince’s face! We were going to continue our own party in the Heads’ dorm, remember? We called after you, but you just left us out in the hall. We got caught, too, by that blasted Kneazle! Two whole weeks of detention for us both, with Longbottom! He’ll probably make us re-pot those disgusting, screaming little Kewpie-doll-like plants!” Brayden said all this in a huff, sending Scorpius a menacing glare.
Scorpius thought fast. Should he tell him? If he told Zabini, Nott would have to be informed as well. Did he want his mates to know, or did he want to decide his next steps on his own first?
Bugger that, he would likely need their help if he intended to win Rose over.
Brayden was still staring at him expectedly. Scorpius let out a breath and then felt a genuine smile overtake his entire face – he could not stop it. If that made him a pansy, so be it.
“I am sorry if you poor sods have to suffer the wrath of re-potting Longbottom’s nude man-plants, but frankly, I don’t remember agreeing to continue our party… because last night, IT happened. With Rose.”
He waited for his friend’s reaction. As he suspected, the mess of emotions flashing over his face showed that Zabini was jumping to all the wrong conclusions.
Scorpius smirked. “Well, not IT exactly. You know she is not like that, and I would not have her any other way. But, we DID – brace yourself – kiss.”
If Zabini was disappointed to not have juicier topics to discuss, he did not show it. He was a good friend, the best Scorpius had ever had. “Wow, mate. You kissed her? And you’re still with us? I would have thought for sure that if the Fair Lady Rose did not kill you with her mad wand-waving, you would have done yourself in by forgetting to breathe!”
“I will ignore your words of ill-humor, Zabini, if you vow to help me decide what to do about this,” Scorpius became quite serious all of a sudden, “because this morning in the Head’s bathroom Rose walked in after I had showered and I swear to Merlin that I had to summon every single ounce of self-control I had not to ravish her right there. I settled for leaning in and kissing her on the cheek like a gentleman, but mate, if you had seen what she wears to sleep in…”
Scorpius saw that Zabini had stopped paying attention to his rambling and was instead looking over his shoulder with a half-amused, half-horrified look on his face.
He slowly turned.
There on the Quidditch pitch, frozen on her feet about three feet behind him and clad in her Gryffindor practice Quidditch robes, was none other than Rose. She looked breathtaking.
And her cheeks were the color of her uniform.
Yup. She heard that alright.
His day had just gotten quite a bit more awkward.
But, no matter. He suddenly remembered that he was a Malfoy. Malfoys were supposed to make girls blush scarlet.
Scorpius turned back to Brayden and motioned that he should follow him off of the pitch. As they turned and walked past Rose, who was still seemingly glued to the spot, Scorpius reached out and grabbed the hand not clutching her broom and placed a feather-light kiss on her palm. He saw her shock register out of the corner of his eye.
With a smirk, he caught up to Zabini and the two men headed off of the pitch, leaving a dazed Rose staring after them.
A/N: Hello! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! The next story I update will be “Confessions,” but I wanted to post this today because I was in the mood for a little fluff. Happy reading, and extra-special-thanks to all of you who take the time to leave a review!