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Chapter 1 : Dandelion
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Scorpius Malfoy sat restlessly at his desk. The window in the Charms classroom sat ajar, and from his seat he could hear the students that mingled outside in the courtyard. There were shrieks of happiness followed by bursts of laughter.
"Mr. Malfoy," Professor Flitwick called from his seat at the front of the room, "You can stop tapping your feet right now, young man. If you'd start that essay, this detention would go much more speedily."
Scorpius pulled out a scroll of parchment and a quill and pretended to write the essay for Flitwick. The old man just didn't seem to understand that Scorpius really had written it, but it lay forgotten on his bed in the Slytherin dorms. If the professor would just allow Scorpius to summon the work, he'd be out of detention and off to roam the courtyard with everyone else.
To watch a particular someone else.
But he wasn't going to be wandering through the crowds of students today. The one time of day when she was sure to be with all of her friends in the courtyard, and he had to get stuck in detention.
Though he knew her cousin would've narrowed his eyes in that suspicious way, and she would've shrugged him off, he still wanted to see her. Just to gaze at her from across the mass of school robes, to see her wavy copper locks shining lightly in the sunlight, her arms loaded down with heavy textbooks.
"Daydreaming, Mr. Malfoy?"
Scorpius jerked at the sound of Flitwick's high voice. He hadn't realised he'd dropped his quill.
"Sorry, Professor," he muttered, reclaiming the scroll and feather quill.
Flitwick nodded and picked up a heap of parchment to grade; Scorpius assumed that these were his fellow students' essays. Hers was probably in the midst of the stack.
Flitwick looked up, his eyebrows raised in slight irritation.
"I--Well, sir, I have my essay in my dorm, and it's completely done. I was just wondering if you'd like some help grading the rest of the classes?" Scorpius hesitated, waiting nervously for the Professor's answer.
Flitwick then did something that Scorpius was most definitely not expecting--he smiled. He smiled and handed over a large stack of essays.
"Go ahead. If you have any questions look in chapter sixteen in your text."
Scorpius nodded, a smirk coming across his pale face. "Yes, sir."
He hurried through the first three essays, giving them decent marks of two Acceptables and one Exceeds Expectations. Then he paused as he saw the name so carefully written across the top of the fourth parchment. Her letters swirled together, waltzed across the page, and his eyes clung hungrily to every word.
The Confundus Charm is particularly useful for Aurors. In situations where one may need to divert the attention of an enemy, for instance, he may place the Confundus Charm on his opponent and buy himself enough time to think of a proper holding charm.
Her handwriting was beautiful; her words were beautiful.
She was beautiful.
But if his father ever caught wind of his thoughts, he'd be so severely punished. He wouldn't be surprised if he wouldn’t be allowed to return to Hogwarts for his final year if his father had known what he felt for her. He could hear Draco Malfoy's harsh words reverberating in his mind, Don't you know what she is, Scorpius? Don't you realise that she's a Weasley? Get your mind off of that blood-traitor girl and her lowly family!
"Mr. Malfoy, you are free to go when you finish the essay you are currently grading. You can bring that essay to my office tomorrow before classes begin."
Scorpius looked up. "Thank you, Professor."
He hastily marked "Outstanding" on her parchment and handed the essays to Flitwick before rushing out of the room.
It was dark when he finally made it to the courtyard, and everyone had gone but a couple that sat on a stone bench, obviously unaware that nighttime was falling. Scorpius cleared his throat loudly, and the couple broke apart. He was sure that if it were daylight, they would both be a bright pink in the face.
He turned on his heel, disappointment flowering inside of him, and walked back to the castle. He'd only wanted to look at her from afar, and it was too late.
You shouldn't be looking at all, a voice in his head reprimanded him.
He shook his thoughts from his head and climbed a large, wooden staircase; he didn't want to go back to the Slytherin dungeons yet, so he opted for roaming the upper portion of the school. It wasn't past nine yet, so he knew he'd be safe from further detentions--at least until ten or so.
Scorpius walked slowly up the staircase, wondering where he could go to be alone with his thoughts. He knew that the astronomy tower was probably being used by a few hormonal seventh years and the library was probably buzzing with fifth years, fervently studying for their OWLs. But the owlery wouldn't be in use much, as it usually had a low flow of traffic, especially during the night.
Scorpius made his way slowly toward the West Tower where the owlery was located. As he stepped into the stone room, he felt a drafty chill creep over him, and the bones of regurgitated mice cracked beneath his feet. Owls were flying in and out, hooting occasionally.
Scorpius wandered to one of the large, open windows and perched himself on the ledge, leaning his head back on the cold stone. He closed his eyes and listened to the soft rustling of feathers as the owls moved about in the tower.
There was a shuffle and a loud crack; someone had stepped on the tiny skull of one of the owls’ feasts. Scorpius didn’t bother opening his eyes until he heard the person’s voice.
“Damn,” she muttered.
His eyes shot open, and he sat up, almost slipping from his seat on the window ledge. He would know that voice anywhere.
“Rose?” he asked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.
He saw her peer toward him, trying to make out his face.
“It’s Scorpius Malfoy,” he said, letting himself drop from the ledge and onto the skeleton-covered floor.
“Oh,” she said simply.
His eyes were finally adjusted, and he assumed hers were as well. He could make out her long tresses, sloppily pulled into a ponytail, the ends looking frayed from a day of tiring studies, and her eyes were so large and brown and shining with curiosity.
Scorpius felt his throat contract as he racked his brain for something to say.
Rose coughed lightly. “Well, I’d better get this letter sent to Mum… The Prophet said that it’s supposed to rain tonight, and I’d rather not be caught up here when that happens.”
Scorpius could’ve punched himself for his stupid response.
He tried desperately to recover, “So do you write to your Mum often?”
She nodded, clicking her tongue to call down a brown barn owl. “Every so often, yes.”
Scorpius watched as she carefully tied the letter to the owl’s leg, offered him a treat, and sent him off into the night. She watched the sky for a long time before turning to face him again.
“What is it about you, Malfoy?”
“Ex-excuse me?” he asked, taken off-guard.
She stepped toward him, probably to see him better in the darkness. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I feel like I don’t know you and maybe I should. I know that sounds stupid, but it’s always bothered me that you don’t even talk to me. Is it just because our parents hated each other?”
He blinked. “I thought that you were avoiding talking to me.”
She laughed, a tinkling laughter that made his heart swell.
And then she shrieked.
“What?” he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.
“It’s starting to rain!”
The rain clouds were rolling in as the raindrops fell through the windows. Rose shrieked again, trying to shield her hair.
“We should go,” she yelled through the rain.
“Yeah, sure,” Scorpius replied, but neither moved.
And then suddenly they were both moving so quickly that Scorpius couldn’t register what was happening until his lips were crashing down on hers. And she kissed him back just as eagerly as he kissed her, their lips wet from rain and quick with passion. He parted her lips with his tongue and explored her mouth, relishing in her taste.
She pulled back, a smile gracing her delicate lips.
“It’s really coming down,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice shaking faintly.
He looked at her—hair frizzing with the moisture of the rain, mascara running lightly down her cheeks, her eyes heavy with pleasure.
She was beautiful—perhaps her family was full of blood traitors, and perhaps they weren’t wealthy, but she was stunning. Like a dandelion, Scorpius decided, because even weeds could be beautiful.
A/N: So what did you think? This was my Kiss in the Rain Challenge entry along with my very first posted Scorpius/Rose, though I really enjoyed writing them.
I'd absolutely adore hearing your opinion on this via a review. *hint*
Thanks for reading,
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