You can tell when the gears in her head are turning and churning. You can always tell when she’s thinking, yet you never know what about.
That had always been one thing that bugged me about Rose Weasley. She was, apparently, just like her mother. And always thinking. Maybe it wouldn’t bug me so much if she wasn’t always alone.
I was always alone, but I was damaged. I had been damaged after being sorted into Gryffindor, something that defied the laws of nature. Malfoys were never sorted into any other house besides Slytherin. That was the law, and my heart’s betrayal, also known as my sorting, had seemed to make even hell freeze over.
It had been six years, and I still had no friends.
I was alone.
I was damaged.
But here’s the troubled with damaged people: we know that we can survive.
Rose Weasley, on the other hand, had no excuse. She was the daughter of Harry Potter’s two best friends. She had been sorted into Gryffindor, as everyone had anticipated. She was just as witty and ingenious as her mother. And, she was pretty. Like, exceedingly pretty.
Which is why it made no sense that she was a loner, which made her ultimately damaged, in a whole other way.
The gears in her head clanked on as she pored over one of her many schoolbooks. I pondered what she was pondering about.
In reality, I knew why I was so curious. I wanted to know if she ever thought about me.
It had taken me a while to realize that I had been falling in love with her. It took me a while to realize how I was falling in love with the crease she’d get between her eyebrows when she was so absorbed in a book; she didn’t realize what else was around her, how when she smiled her lips would become a darker shade of pink than their normal one, how her eyes would twinkle whenever a teacher called on her eye and she knew the answer, how she would bite her bottom lip when she was thinking about a certain something. I could always tell when she was thinking about it because she bit her lip. But, I never knew what that something ever was. I did finally comprehend the realization after a very long, six years. After all, she was a Weasley. I had to talk to myself for months, often putting myself in third person;
‘Scorpius Malfoy loves Rose Weasley.’
‘Scorpius loves Rose.’
‘Scorpius and Rose. Rose and Scorpius.’
‘Malfoy and Weasley.’
‘Malfoy loves Weasley.’
‘Scorpius Malfoy loves Rose Weasley.’
In fact, those six thoughts were going through my mind right now as I watched her.
Before I knew what my feet were doing, I had walked over to Rose and was standing in front of her. She lifted her small, heart-shape face to hear me say,
“I noticed you. Sitting, by yourself.”
The gears clinked in earnest for an answer.
“Yes, well, I prefer to be left alone.”
My answer was predictable despite my will. I knew it would be. I knew I would say all the wrong things no matter how much I tried to say the right ones.
“Me too.” I replied.
“Scorpius, I’ve noticed. I’ve only seen you by yourself multiple times over the past six years.”
“You’ve… noticed me?” My heart gave a little leap.
“Malfoy, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a very observant person.” she answered. I knew she hadn’t noticed my little hope due to her monotone reply. The gears were churning away again, carrying her attention away as well.
“What are you always thinking about?” I suddenly blurted. And as happy as I was to see that I had got her attention back, I still blushed tomato red when she stared at me. Some may say she had a look of awe on her face, but I found it to be more of one of inquisition.
“I could ask you the very same question.”
“Could you?” I had never thought that someone else would notice the times I’d slip off and reminisce in my thoughts. Well, more like one thought, and she was sitting right in front of me.
“Yes. It’s like, whenever I look up, you’re engrossed or infatuated with what you’re thinking about. I can almost see these little levers and gadgets and gears working tirelessly behind your eyes. It’s amazing, really.
“But you know what I’ve noticed? Whenever I look, the gears are always at work. Like, they can never find the solution to whatever the bloody hell you were thinking abo…”
I didn’t know what I was doing, but my body did. With all logic gone, and going against every part of my mind that warned me not to, I grabbed Rose by the chin and firmly placed my lips upon hers.
I could hear the gears spinning wildly, seeming to overreact at the connection of our flesh, until they were whirring violently. They spun out of control as I held her face within my hand until I heard the machinery become alight from the fires of our kiss.
Finally, we pulled away from one another.
I watched for a reaction, but all I could really see was the way Rose was gnawing at her lip once again.
It was then it hit me. The mysterious thought Rose Weasley always pondered was me, just as she was the mysterious thought I could never quite get the answer to.
And our kiss had been the solution.
The gizmos in my mind searched for something to say, but Rose spoke first. She had finally stopped biting at her lip. She laughed quietly, almost to herself, before muttering,
I smiled softly at her reaction. I had learned a lot about Rose over the last six years besides one thing; nobody had ever told me how she was like her father.
Because nobody, besides myself, had investigated the matter. Nobody saw her stubbornness and humor. Everybody just saw the gears clinking away in her head.
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