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Of Hearts, Malfoys, and Cousins. by Miss MarlaG
Chapter 1 : of hearts, malfoys, and cousins
 
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I don't owny anything you recognize ;)

 

 

 

 







IcandothisIcandothisIcandothis.

I kept repeating this to myself as I bounced on my tiptoes, staring at the hot-pink princess phone (a gift from mom) on my hand. After staring at it so long the numbers started blurring in front of me and I could barely feel the thing in my hand. It was summer, and it was hot, and I was hot, and I still wasn't of age as to refresh myself with magic, and all of that plus the stress I was stressing on myself probably meant that I was gonna have a heart attack soon enough.

Or Aritmia. I hear its a deadly heart decease.

I breathed in and out twice, chanting my motto on my head over and over again until I had learned by heart and was chanting it without even wanting to. I turned around, checked under the door for any extendable ears just in case Hugo was eavesdropping again and sighed. I could do this. I would do this. If I didn’t, my heart would explode. If I did, well, it would also explode of nervousness and exhilaration. My heart was taking a trip for the morgue any way or another. Have you notice I’d been saying the word heart a lot? Yeah. My heart is the main character in this after me. It was the one in life-or-death danger anyway.

Along with my dignity, my life, and my will to live.

Sighing again, I turned the pages of my black leather agenda (yet another gift from mom –I don’t think that woman will stop until we declare ourselves Muggles and turn our wands in to live with them) and stopped at the M’s, scanning the pages for the name was hoping for. Malta, Morrison, Mallory, Meap –and then, the word that flashed right my face and made my heart do a back flip– Malfoy.

More importantly, Scorpius Malfoy.

I had been in love with Scorpius for the past five years, when we had first been paired up in potions as first years. As soon as that cute, fit arse had sat on the chair beside me –yes, I did notice his arse. It’s my favorite feature, and it looked awesome on faded jeans– , he flipped his long platinum bangs out of his gray eyes and shot an arrow straight into my heart. After that, througly convinced that we were meant to be despite my father's warnings, I kept making myself look like a fool, and through my whole first year we has managed a total of fifteen very awkward conversation that always ended in “Well, um… okay, well… bye,” on his behalf, and nervous stammering/stuttering/spluttering/drooling/fainting coming from me. Sadly, by the middle of second year he began to keep up with his hotness and transformed into the heartbreaker that dates every girl in the school I now knew, but I kept my hopes up that someday he would realize I, Rose Weasley , was the one, and that I had been standing right beside him all this time, literally. I have been his potions partner through our whole Hogwarts life.

Around fourth year I began my super-plan to make him jealous, and started to date about four guys per month. Yeah, getting guys has always been easy for me. With my dad’s iridiscent blue eyes and straight ripe tomato-red hair (plus awesomely smart brain), I’m pretty hot (and yes, I know this sounds conceited, but it’s my story. I can do and say whatever I want. If I wanna say I’m the Queen of England, I can. Sadly I’m not, but you wouldn’t know that, would you? You would still eat up that whole shit about me being the Queen  of England or whatever while I would laugh on the inside at what a naiive fool had fallen for my joke.) I would just see a guy in the crowd, walk up to them and snog them (of course, making sure Scorpius was around. I wasn't a slut), and the guy would gladly snog me back (gladly = enthusiastically -they would all think they had hit the jackpot after Rose Weasley had jumped on them). Unfortunately, every girl and guy in the school started calling me a whore, plus my plan was not getting any reaction out of Scorpius, so I just stopped doing that.

Then I spent all fifth year being his friend. I buddy-ed up with him, joined the Quidditch team (Albus reluctantly agreed to let me in after a fifteen galleon bribe) and joined him at the hip. (if you were wondering, we were all Ravenclaws). We talked about Quidditch, we would get into flying food fights, we stole Lucy’s homework and copied off of her –we were best mates. Most of the times I would think he truly had started to like me as more than a friend, as soon as I saw his eyes twinkle when I made him laugh or when he rested his hand on my left knee and just smiled without saying anything. But then I would turn a corner and find him snogging the daylights off of some other fifth year, and my heart would twist into a complicated pretzel knot, and I would feel the urge to vom.

So now, I decided it was time for plan C. Everyone’s plan C, which almost never got executed due to fear and embarrassment. The great –sarcastically– plan C.

Telling him the truth.

I stared at the phone, feeling the fear creep up my neck and choking me. IcandothisIcandothisIcandothis I kept thinking, but instead, all I heard was NoIcan’tNoIcan’tNoIcan’t in that little sub-thinking thing that the mind has. (Seriously. I heard two voices at the same time in my head).

It was now or never.

Shutting my eyes, I took the phone and punched Scorpius number in. I didn’t need to see, I knew it by heart. I waited as the phone beeped. Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes had created this magical phone where you say the name of the person you want to contact and touch the white square, and the line would get through if that person had one of them. Obviously by the next month after it premiered, every wizarding household in London had one. My phone was a normal Muggle phone, but Uncle George had managed to connect it into the Wizarding Wireless Line. I prayed doubly with my awesome two-sided mind, one part of me wishing he would pick up, but another part of me was imploring to the great God that Scorpius wouldn’t pick up. But now it wasn’t up to me. It was up to him picking up the phone and listening to my confession. Then again, he always picked up my calls.

Oh God, I’m screwed.

As I fumbled to hang up after being hit with that n,ew realization, someone picked up on the other side of the line. Oh no. I could have hanged up, but just as my thumb was about to press the end button, a tiny voice came up from the speaker. “Rosy?” It asked. Damn. So he knew it was me. Then again it was stupid for me to pray that he wouldn’t know it was me since the screen in the tiny colorful metal cubicle flashed ROSE all over his room, a way to know who it was and if to pick up or not. And, as I already explained, he always picked up my calls. If he didn’t, I would give him the cold shoulder, and he would spend a week making it up to me, walking me to class, saying sorry two billion times, and showering me with gifts, like that little stuffed frog that said “I’m sorry” every five minutes unless you took out its tongue and tied it into a knot.

He was pretty sweet –yet another of the reasons why I was so in love with him (I swear I could almost see my pupils morph into huge blue hearts.)

“Rosy? Are you there?” He asked again with that luscious, velvety voice I loved so much. A current shot through my whole body when I heard his voice. Damn. I couldn’t hang him up now. It would make me look stupid and I was paralyzed in my place, tongue-tied. Just picturing just coming out of the shower, with a shower wrapped around his hard, abs-owning torso and picking up my call made me want to hurl of pleasure of such sight. It also made me wanna jump him right there in my little fantasy –as if that were even possible.

I wanted him. I wanted him so bad it hurt.

“Rooossyyyy?”

I sighed loudly, preparing myself for the monologue I was about to give out, and wishing he was even considerate about how hard this was to do, another of the reason why “Plan C” never got executed. I swear, I think I read somewhere that only 15% of women/girls ever told the person they fancied/loved that they fancied/loved them. And they where official numbers by some important research Clinic.

Okay, fine. I made those numbers up. But I’m pretty sure I’m right. I never would have thought I would be that 15%. I often pictured myself the one that died out of desperation with the burden of their secret love settling down into a family with another woman–some %3 (Yes, I made that up too.)

“Look,” I breathed. “I just wanted to get something off my chest because if I don’t I would probably die of Aritmia or whatever that is, and I don’t want to die young, ‘cuz you should know that I’ve planned to die awesomely combating the dark arts or in the middle of a drama-filled mystery where I was poisoned and dropped dead on the hands of the handsome, cute movie star spy detective.” I stopped for a minute to catch my breath, not believing I was already half-way through. Not believing I even started.

The other line was silent for a split second. “Rosy, are you sure that–”

“Scorpius please shut up ‘cuz if you keep interrupting me I won’t able to get through with this and I will die of the before-ly explained disease. Do you want me to die? No. Now -”

“Rosy, I don’t think you–”

“Shut up, shut up!” I cried, not able to resist any longer. In my mind, the towel was slowly drooping down his torso, and I just couldn’t bear it anymore. You now that feeling of anxiety Rose (yeah, same name, you see? No wonder I’m just like her, and Scorpius is on Jack's level of hotness) felt when Jack started dying and sinking on the ocean, how she was so desperate in the Titanic? (my mom made me watch it.) I felt exactly the same way. I had to finish talking, or I was gonna lose it, seriously. Not only Scorpius’ friendship and my heart were in danger, but my sanity was on the line too. Not that I had much sanity left, after Lily, Roxanne, Albus, Fred, Lucy, Molly, Dominique, and James –oh, James– has sucked it all from me, and I just had to cling to the last bits that I still owned. “Look! I love you okay? I love you! Always have, always will! I love how every time you look at me with those eyes I feel like you can stare at my soul, and how you perfect blond hair knows exactly how to get perfectly tousled and, everything, and then, you know, and it’s just, like, you know and, you’re so sweet and hot and a great friend and then, like, yeah! I have loved you since first year! Please notice me! I’m right here! Am I that hard to see? Please! I’m in love with you! I love you!”

There. I said it. After all this time, in a long, long breath I struggled to catch, I finally managed to confess my love to Scorpius Malfoy. I felt so proud for myself for doing it, but I also felt scared. Remember I told you this was my story and I could do and decide anything and everything? Well I can. I can do anything, but the one thing I can’t control is his reaction, and everything he is. ‘Cuz, Hell! If I could would you seriously see me like this, so nervous to tell the boy I love that I love him? No way. I would be with him, right this second, snogging the daylights off of him!

God, my mouth just watered at the thought. Ooh! Him snogging me while the towel droops even lower down his torso! God I think I’ll die of a heart attack if I don’t stop this shizzle. Yeah, me with the gangster talk. Albus told me to quit it because I didn’t do it right and it sounded bad, but I’ll show him. I always do. Happy face, replace smile with smirk.

Well, like I was saying, I’m scared. I’m scared he will reject me, scared that our friendship will be ruined forever, scared that I won’t be able to stare secretly at his arse anymore. God, what the hell did I do! I gotta hang, I gotta hang up! But the damage has already been done, and he knows my deepest secret. There’s no turning back. He knows everything.

I’m so damn stupid.

“Um, Rosy..?”

Preparing for heartbreak. Grab hold of Rose’s water faucet and wait for the signal to punch the warning button and blow fire.

“You did know its James, right?”

My heart paled, just like my face. I swear I felt the blood drain from my face as my eyes widened, and I was almost sure I had a blanch-horror type of expression. Wait. Yeah, I did. My heart turned into the familiar pretzel-not, only this time it pulled hard, and I could not feel my legs. Not James. Oh please God not James. Please, please, please not James. I was so horror-stricken I couldn’t even add the ! at the end of please-not-James prayer.

Shit.

“…meh?”

“Oh My God! You’re in love with Scorpius!” James started laughing as the color started coming back to my face, except it was only one: red. My ears got hot and my cheeks burned, and I seriously wanted to die in that second. Huh. So cliché of me. Never would have thought.
James kept laughing and my face got hotter. I would have at least been able get over it if it was Albus. No. It had been his (cant even say the right word) of a brother. Fate had a funny way of screwing everything up with me. It’s as if it doesn’t like me, and I haven’t even met it! Don’t judge me before knowing me! You got the wrong impression of me!
Look at me. Such conditions have driven me to talk to inanimate objects, and fate isn’t even an object. I swear I think I’ve officially gone insane.

God. I don’t even believe in fate! But now I think I will from the obvious fact that fate doesn’t want Scorpius to know about my secret love, so he’s not for me.

Liar, he’s mine. Growl.

As James cracked up, I checked the number on the phone and smacked my hand against my forehead, hard. I’m so stupid! I accidentally punched 26788634 instead of 26788624, meaning I punched the Potters’ number instead of Scorpius’! I seriously wanted to get my wand and Avada Kedavra myself. That’s what I get by pressing phone numbers with my eyes closed. Damn me, for being dumb. Damn James, for being a stupid jackass. Damn Scorpius, for making me love him and having almost the same number as the Potters. And damn James, for being a stupid jackass. Ooh, I already said that? Didn’t notice. No I’m lying. I did it in purpose. Hah.
I swear I could hear the tears rolling down James face. It’s so like him to cry his ass off about something too funny. I wished he did cry his ass off, so he’s not able to sit anywhere and die. “Oh My God! He’s waaaaaaaaaaay out of your league! The whole school will be so glad to know this!” He kept laughing, probably gripping his stomach which was probably hurting. You deserve it, bitch.

I fluttered my blue eyes closed. Damning myself. Now not only would Scorpius know (and it wouldn’t be me cutely declaring my love, but James making fun of how I declared my love) but now the whole school would be involved! Seriously, I was having a very clichéd moment.

Please, Oprah’s great earth, dig a hole on the ground and suck me in.

I stared at my pink wall as I heard James laugh, and I just had to hang up. It was that or the phone flying towards the wall, so I picked the first option. I kept staring at the wall, specially at one picture in particular where James had taken a picture of me running around screaming in my underwear (I seriously thought there was an earthquake, okay?) and had it magically stuck to my wall, where no magic in this world could rip it out. What was it about him out to make my life miserable?

Suddenly, my phone rang, and then the screen flashed one word all over my room. Scorpius.

Fuck.

 
 
 
 
 




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