She sashayed into the room. Swish, swish, just like her mother had said once upon a time. She could almost hear her words ringing out, with the bitter smell of a cigarette that was omnipresent between her fingers, a cancerous ring. Ah yes, she remembered now. She'd look up at her lovely mother, as she'd slur: “It's all in the hips, darling. It's all in the hips.”
A door slammed open with a mere flick of her wand. Carefully adjusting her attire as she prowled, her mind fixated on her goal.
Yes. She would have him on his knees.
At the sound of her entrance, his head jolted upright. Steely eyes flashed at her, with a flicker of fear amongst the act. The bare light bulb wavered, rasping an electric tune before shuddering and extinguishing. She lit her wand and sent him a poisonous glance.
“You left me to die.”
“It was an accident!” he cried in a strangled voice, struggling helplessly against his bonds. His prison. “You were out of sight, the confusion, the riot … there was nothing I co-”
“There was everything you could have done, you liar. Don't try and bargain your way out of this when fate is already sealed.” she shot back, a venomous edge to her calm and contained voice. She towered over where he sat, bound. A sneer tore at her lips.
“I had to think of my parents! I never forgave myself about what happened that ni-”
“Enough.” Their eyes met. Rusted steel united with hardened jade, an intertwined dance between their very souls. The ghosts of her past had come to haunt her. A slow smirk soon adorned his face. His smirk. He held her gaze, captivating her heart once more with an effortless raise of the eyebrow. A minute passed.
“Come here.”
She was all too quick to oblige. The feverish need to feel, to touch, to kiss him empowered her. A liberation of every sense, a response to her stimulus overwhelmed him. Off came her thin chemise. Banished was his shirt. Beads of sweat trickled in harmony. Skin against skin, moans laced with sighs, her nails on his chest. At last, they saw eye to eye. In a moment of naivety, she freed his hands.
He lunged for her wand.
She was quicker. A turn, a driving fury and two whispered words were all she needed. A jet of green, the ghost of pain, and wide eyes were the final moments of Scorpius Malfoy. His body lay still, a look of sheer surprise etched onto his fine features.
Slowly bending down towards his earlobe, she whispered into his ear in a velvety voice.
“You had me, darling.”
A smile crept onto her face as she leered forwards to observe his cold, staring eyes, satisfied that any sign of life was devoid forever. A manic laughter bubbled in her throat, spilling out of her mouth. She felt sick with pleasure.
Rose Weasley climbed gracefully off of the corpse, conjured a cigarette with her wand and swept out of the room without a backwards glance. Swish, swish. Just like her mother had said.
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