One More Night (Albus/Rose, R)

[soraya786]

The Great Hall was milling with students all clamouring to get in for dinner. Rose was among them, having had a long day at school and feeling quite hungry, and she was about to follow her friends to the Gryffindor table when she felt a hand on her arm.

“Hey, Rose, do you have a minute?”

“I’m kind of hungry right now, Lily,” Rose replied, gesturing for her friends to go on and crossing her arms to face her cousin. “Make it quick.”

“It’s about Albus.”

Lily’s words made Rose’s toes curl and her fingers tighten around the strap of her bag. She kept her face otherwise impassive, though, and tried her best not to look too concerned or upset.

“What about him?”

“You had a fight with him, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question, judging by the accusatory look in her eyes.

“We’ve been through this before,” Rose said stiffly, and it was true; Lily had confronted her about it months before. “Besides, that was ages ago.”

“I know it was,” Lily told her swiftly, “which is what confuses me. Whatever your beef is with him, you should’ve sorted it out by now. I mean, it’s been months since I’ve seen the two of you have--”

Rose quickly interrupted, “Can you just leave it, please?”

“No!” said Lily hotly. “In case you’ve forgotten, that’s my brother you’ve upset--”

“Who said I upset him?”

“Because I know Albus. If he’s hurt you, said something mean, he would’ve apologised pretty quickly, not left it hanging for what seems like months, now.”

At this, Rose’s shoulders sank, because of course, Lily was right. She winced, trying not to think of Albus’s continuous whisper of Sorry if I hurt you and I thought you’d done this before or his attempts to talk to her after that disastrous, sweaty summer’s night in the Quidditch changing rooms.

“We upset each other,” she admitted finally.

“Then go and apologise,” Lily said bluntly. “I don’t give a damn how you do it, Rose. Kiss his feet for all I care. Hell, I don’t even care what this argument was about, quite frankly, but I hate seeing him like this, and you know this has been going on for too long now.”

“Yeah, I know.” Rose tried not to think too much about the fact that she had stopped coming to dinners at the Burrow that summer and the way she’d always leave the room whenever he entered it -- and that was when she had the misfortune of being in the Burrow at the same time as him.

“He’s at Quidditch practice right now.” Lily’s voice broke Rose’s train of thought, and she jumped a little. Rose was, of course, scared. The last conversation she had had with Albus was that night, when he had voiced the doubts that had, admittedly, been whirling through her mind at the time, too.

Rose, what are you doing?

I -- you -- we --

You’re my cousin.

They’d always been cousins, first and foremost, and she did miss him. No doubt about that. But she wondered if it would ever be possible for them to go back to normal, how they were before all of this began, before she had succeeded in fucking up what had been more than just a familial bond as well as, more importantly, a friendship.

“He might not forgive me,” Rose found herself murmuring, hoping Lily would not press her.

“Oh, he will. He’s Albus. Get going if you want to catch him now -- practice will be finishing up soon,” Lily said, and with that, she went to join Louis at the Ravenclaw table for dinner.

Suddenly, Rose was no longer hungry.

“You haven’t scored a single bloody goal all week! How hard is it to just throw the damn thing?” James Potter roared at his brother, who stared resolutely back, his green eyes full of colour and yet so empty and emotionless that even Rose winced from where she was. They were the only two remaining on the Quidditch pitch, the other Gryffindors having headed back to the changing rooms a few minutes before. “The game is in a fortnight, and you’d better pull yourself together, Albus, unless you want to be kicked off the fucking team. You got that?”

From her place in the stands, Rose didn’t quite catch Albus’s mumbled reply, but she understood enough from James’s growl of frustration. “No, I don’t give a flying fuck that I'm your brother, Al -- just get your act together by next practice or I swear I will find someone else!” And then, after one last glower at his younger brother, James wheeled about, grabbed his broom and left for the changing rooms.

After a few moments of staring after James, Albus took the Quaffle out of the crate at his feet, mounted his broom and flew a little unsteadily into the air, only stopping when he reached the hoops. Rose watched his small, dark silhouette against the cold, charcoal grey of the October sky, but as the ball soared through the air, it missed the hoop completely, and Albus’s shoulders slumped in defeat. When he lunged lower on his broom to retrieve the Quaffle, he finally noticed Rose watching him, for he was now level with her, and their eyes locked for several seconds before he lost his balance and only just managed to hang onto his broom by clutching his broomstick tightly with both hands.

Months ago, Rose would have laughed, goaded him for acting like such an idiot. Months ago, however, they’d been friends. Now… she wasn’t sure what they were, but it certainly wasn’t that, and she felt a prickly, uncomfortable feeling of guilt in the back of her neck.

Despite her conflicting thoughts, something in Rose made her get to her feet just as Albus managed to get back on his broom. She walked down the steps to the pitch and picked up the Quaffle from the ground, and by this point, Albus had dismounted his broom, his gaze very carefully fixed on his shoes.

“Hey,” she said eventually.

“H-hi.”

They hadn’t got past dull, monosyllabic greetings for months. Rose couldn’t help but cringe, remembering that burning look in his eyes when he had told her he loved her, the heavy feeling of his body on hers and that horrible dull pain when he was inside her. He could not love her, not Rose, of all people. They were cousins, friends. They had been raised together, for Merlin’s sake! And yet, somehow, she had felt something towards him. At least, she must have, for her to go after him. Perhaps it was a fascination, of sorts. Lust, maybe. It wasn’t love, though. They were only sixteen now, after all. It was only because Rose was who she was that she was overanalysing everything in the first place.

Besides, who loved anyone at their age? Then again, her parents -- and Albus’s, for that matter -- got together while at school. But then, Rose thought, Ron and Hermione weren’t cousins, and neither were Harry and Ginny. And the mere thought of marrying Albus or, Merlin forfend, bearing his children ten years down the line did not appeal to her in the slightest. That was what you did when you loved someone. Wasn’t it?

The silence tautened the air and became too much for Rose, who finally broke it.

“You’re flying... well.”

“Liar,” Albus blurted out, and he looked worried for a moment, as if he were afraid of upsetting her. She smiled, however, reassured by this tiny flicker of his old self.

“Okay, maybe not that well. I heard what James said,” Rose admitted.

“I’ll be fine. I just need to practise more. Fuck, my head’s been all over the place lately, after…” He trailed off, but she knew what he was going to say, anyway. Without knowing quite what she was doing, she touched his arm, and he immediately jumped away, a strange expression in his eyes. If Rose didn’t know any better, she would have said he looked scared.

I miss you, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t; the words remained stuck in her throat, refusing to come out. All she could say while biting back tears was: “Can we be friends again?”

The immediacy of his answer surprised her.

“I’d like that.”

“Can we forget about… about everything?” She made a vague gesture and knew he understood what she meant.

“Rose, I--”

“Please,” she begged. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not now. Not ever.”

Several seconds passed, during which Albus stared at the ground, his hands slowly balling into fists, before he finally said quietly, “Okay.”

“Thank you,” Rose whispered, and before she could stop herself, she hugged him. He stiffened at first, but then he hugged her back, and she felt his whole body relax into her embrace. And in that moment, the guilt within her increased tenfold, because Albus, like the good cousin he was, did not question her, mention the events of several months back or remind her that this was the first time since then that she had deigned to speak with him for longer than a few seconds.

No, instead, Albus simply nodded. And to Rose’s relief, for the first time in a long time, his eyes filled with colour.

***
For the first time in their sixth year, Rose and Albus entered Potions together, and Professor Nott didn’t say anything, but Rose could feel his eyes on their pair of them as they came into the classroom. The other students were busy organising their things, but they also looked up in surprise. Rose, however, merely laughed a little harder at whatever joke Albus was telling her, even if it wasn’t that funny.

“Everyone should mind their own goddamn business,” Rose grumbled under her breath to herself once Albus went to the store cupboard to collect ingredients for them both. Their journey to the dungeons had been a little forced occasionally, yes, but that was to be expected, and at any rate, Rose was relieved their friendship was -- or she hoped it would be -- back on track soon.

Scorpius Malfoy was sitting at their table, but unlike the others, he wasn’t gawking at her and Albus. Rose was glad about that. He had been sitting with her since the start of term, since he was the only Slytherin to have achieved an O in the subject at OWL, and though he and Rose hadn’t talked much, there was a certain amount of tolerance in the air that hadn’t been present previously. Perhaps it had something to do with Albus’s absence, since Albus had deigned to sit with the Hufflepuffs instead up until today.

Before, they'd always had plenty of quips and snide comments to offer each other during lessons. Rose still felt embarrassed for the rivalry that had ensued practically from their first year -- having taken her father's words to heart, Rose was always determined to outsmart Scorpius, no matter what. She didn't always succeed, much to her chagrin, but she could not deny that she enjoyed arguing with him -- despite what she told everyone else.

Something about her quieter demeanour this year had seemed to warm him to her, however, because now, he offered her a small smile every time he saw her in the corridor. They were not friends, but they weren’t rivals, either, and Rose was glad at that. She had had enough of not speaking to people as it was.

Albus didn’t seem to feel the same. He returned from the store cupboard laden with ingredients, and Scorpius had immediately come forward and helped Albus with them, but Albus shot Scorpius a look of scorn and didn’t even thank Scorpius before turning to Rose and dividing up what he had brought.

“Why the long face?” she asked semi-seriously.

“Does he really have to sit there?” Albus whispered furiously back.

“Yeah, why? He’s been there since the start of term. Nothing new.”

If Rose didn’t know any better, she would’ve said Albus sounded… disappointed. “Oh, I just didn’t think you were exactly a big fan of him.”

“I don’t need to be,” Rose replied, but at that moment, Professor Nott loudly interrupted their conversation.

“If you two would like to solve your lovers’ tiff in detention, Mr Potter, Miss Weasley, feel free to carry on your conversation.”

Rose flushed and moved her cauldron away a little, suddenly unable to meet Albus’s eyes.

“Ew, sir,” called out Seth Thomas, and Rose rolled her eyes. “You can’t say things like that about--”

“And you can’t dictate what I can and cannot say, Mr Thomas, so in the future, watch what you say instead,” Nott cut across him. “Now, onto today’s lesson -- we will be learning to brew Polyjuice potion. This will take a month, and this lesson will mostly be the introductory stage. It’s tricky, so pay close attention…”

In spite of the slight hiccup, the lesson passed relatively calmly (Rose blamed her flushed cheeks on the rising steam from the teacher’s cauldron), with all the sixth-years adding notes to the instructions and then being prompted to begin by Professor Nott. Rose lit her cauldron carefully before saying to Albus, “You know, my parents and your dad tell us this story practically every Christmas -- how my mum made this stuff when she was only thirteen.” Albus smiled, and Rose did, too, and suddenly, all the awkwardness from before vanished.

“Apparently, Rose, your mum also accidentally turned into a cat because of a mix-up,” Scorpius called from his end of the table, grinning, and Rose couldn’t help but catch his eye and grin back.

“Something like that,” she replied, tying up her hair. “And how would you know about that?”

Scorpius shrugged. “I hear things.”

“Is that right?”

He raised his eyebrows before saying, “Oh, and apparently, your father and Albus’s father also masqueraded as my father’s friends in an attempt to find things out.”

More than a little disconcerted (because she had been assured several times that the Malfoys knew nothing of the matter whatsoever), Rose turned back to her cauldron, unable even to think of a comeback. He had that effect on her, annoyingly, and she had half a mind to smile back at him.

Only at the sound of coughing beside her did she remember Albus standing next to her, quietly working on his own potion, and she wondered once again if everything would ever be completely okay with them.

***

Liverpool Street was busy when a twenty-three-year-old Rose stepped out onto it, and it was also wet. During the time she had been in the watch shop (they’d been selling counterfeit watches to both wizards and Muggles), deep puddles had formed on the pavement, and as was custom in London, it was still raining, showing no sign of stopping. After confiscating the necessary items and cautioning the salesmen appropriately, Rose had immediately left the shop, feeling claustrophobic and in desperate need of a cigarette.

“Fucking fuckbuckets,” Rose said under her breath, scowling as she was forced to duck underneath the nearest bus shelter after being splashed by a passer-by. She wished it wasn't raining so heavily, but more importantly, she wished that she wasn't in a Muggle area so she could just light her cigarette with her wand instead of having to fiddle with a lighter. Rose swore again as the flame flickered for only a few seconds and then was extinguished, and she wondered briefly if it was worth getting out her wand. After all, there weren't that many people around her, really.

“I would've thought you'd given those things up by now.”

The sudden voice from behind her made her jump, and she instinctively reached into the pocket of her robes to grab her wand, despite having recognised his voice. He raised his eyebrows, and she slowly removed her hand, feeling embarrassed for some reason.

“You made me jump,” she said unnecessarily, trying for the umpteenth time to light her cigarette.

“Here, let me,” he offered, and before waiting for an answer, Scorpius took the lighter from her. She complied, holding the cigarette to her mouth and cupping the flame, and he lit it easily.

“Fucking finally,” Rose muttered. Again, Scorpius raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. “Sorry, should've said -- I, er, swear a lot. Just thought I'd let you know now we'll be working together. And I smoke on the job, too, so if you have a problem, speak now or forever hold your peace -- although if you do have a problem, there’s not much I can do about it anyway, so you know, you’re better off forever holding your peace.”

She was babbling; she knew that. Was she trying to put him off? Or was she trying to impress him with her bad girl attitude?

“Not a problem,” he said lightly. He straightened and watched the rain splash out of the drainpipe of the shop opposite them, and he didn’t meet his eyes as he said, “Besides, I like the smell.”

“'Really?”

He turned slightly to regard her with faint amusement. “Yeah. Why, does that surprise you?”

“It's just that my mother constantly tells me I smell like a fireplace whenever I go to see her -- which, may I add, isn't very often nowadays, as she revels in reminding me. God forbid I try to hug her or something.”

But Scorpius shook his head. “Depends on the type. Wizard ones smell the worst, but I, er, sometimes need to smell Muggle ones.”

“Ah. You haven't exactly quit, then.”

Why were they even talking about this? Of all things to have a meaningful conversation about, with Scorpius Malfoy no less, Rose was choosing to bond with him over smoking.

He must have read her mind, because a moment later, he said, “If you have a problem with me working with you, just say.”

“No!” she said, possibly too quickly, but she realised a moment later that she didn't really care. “Why would you think that?”

“We're not exactly the best of friends, are we? And... you know.”

She knew exactly what he meant, and her next words felt like someone else was saying them. “We're not meant to be friends. And I'm sure we're both perfectly capable of being professional about everything.”

“Yeah,” he replied softly. Rose exhaled slowly, careful to blow the smoke away from his face, and she was surprised when he leaned forward (he wasn't going to kiss her, was he?) and inhaled deeply. He then caught her eye and grinned.

“Sorry. You might not want to smoke in front of me -- I get jealous.”

It was a lame joke, but she laughed anyway, trying to suppress the evident backflip of her belly. She turned away, still smiling, although inside, she was cursing herself for being so damn weak that the simplest thing Scorpius did set her off. She'd thought she had stopped being such a goddamn schoolgirl when she left Hogwarts. Clearly not.

“So you're okay with--”

“Of course I am,” she interrupted.

“Rose…” It was the first time in a while that he had addressed her by anything except her surname, and she could feel a muscle twitching in her jaw at the thought. Clearly, he’d noticed, too, because he faltered, apparently hesitant.

“Yeah, S-Scorpius?” she said, her voice shaking ever so slightly but meeting his eyes nevertheless.

“I -- you said we’re not meant to be friends.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Rose said hastily. “We can be. If you want.”

He nodded, his lips teetering on the edge of a proper smile but not quite reaching it. “Thanks.”

“Besides, we were just kids, messing around and everything, weren’t we?” she said, but she immediately regretted her words and could feel herself flushing horribly. Still, if she’d stepped out of line, it was too late to take anything back, so she continued, “I’m sure we can put anything that happened during school behind us.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, and Rose was tempted to add that she was well-versed in dealing with people she’d had awkward experiences with. And, in fact, a drunken kiss with Scorpius was -- or should have been -- far less than what Rose had done with Albus. But she’d never told anyone what had happened with him. It had always been her and Albus’s secret; they’d agreed as much, and whatever happened, Rose was determined to keep it that way. After all, provided she didn’t think about it much (and she rarely did, only really during moments like this when she was reminded by something someone said or did), Rose had lost her virginity to Thomas Macmillan at seventeen, not Albus when she was fifteen. Never Albus.

She must have missed what he said next, because the next thing she knew, the ghost of a smile was on his lips and he was watching her expectantly, anxiously, perhaps;  she realised he had to have said something vaguely funny. “Sorry, what was that?” she said, adding apologetically, “I must have spaced out, sorry.”

“I was just saying, I don’t think I’ve ever stopped being a kid. And I… er… still like messing around.”

Only later, much later, did she work out exactly what he meant by that. Rose was still in shock that he so much as wanted to talk to her, let alone propose any semblance of friendship to her, that she had just laughed and moved on, not really understanding what he really meant to say.

They flirted a lot in the office -- inadvertently, of course, but no one could deny that their conversations were more than friendly. It reminded Rose of their schooldays. But this time, it was about if it was really necessary for Scorpius to converse with the goblins at Gringotts in Gobbledygook when they spoke perfect English, since either way, the goblins would still be rude to them regardless of the language they spoke.

“It’s just an excuse for you to show off,” Rose said as they walked towards Fortescue’s. She wasn’t sure who had decided to go there, but their feet seemed to have taken them of their own accord to the ice cream parlour, and Rose wasn’t exactly complaining.

“No, it’s not! They get along with you better if you speak their language,” he insisted. “They’re difficult creatures, goblins.”

“I think I know that,” she replied, trying to arrange her face in an annoyed expression but only succeeding in looking amused more than anything. “My mother used to work in Control of Magical Creatures, you know. No, you just want to show off--”

Scorpius rolled his eyes, although he, too, wasn’t really taking their argument seriously. Rose could tell that much from the way he cocked his head to one side and said, “Now, why would I want to do that?”

Their conversation was temporarily stalled as they ordered their ice creams and found a table, and Rose was distracted for a moment as she reminded him that he was definitely not paying for hers.

“Fine!” he said finally, holding his hands up as if in surrender. “Pay for your own. Forgive me for trying--”

“To be a gentleman?” she finished, a cheeky grin on her face, and she tipped the waiter generously, much to Scorpius’s surprise.

“That’s a big tip.”

“I worked as a waitress for a while,” Rose admitted. “I feel the pain when some customer leaves a Knut as a tip as some kind of measly afterthought.”

“And here was me thinking you were completely minted and just hiding it.”

She laughed, kicking him under the table. “Don’t push it, Malfoy. Anyway, back to goblins--”

“Oh, Rose, you can’t let anything go, can you?”

“No, I can’t, and technically, we’re still at work, so I’ll say what I have to say,” Rose said, and she tried to put on her serious face. Because she was annoyed, no matter how much they may have joked about things, and she wanted to tell him that. “You think it’s a good idea for you to speak for Merlin knows how long in some gibberish language that I’m supposed to magically understand and then not even the courtesy to provide a translation so I actually get the gist of what you’re saying? Seriously, who were you trying to impress? Because really, it just made things difficult for me and you, you know.”

His reply was not the quick comeback she expected. Instead, he waited several moments, until Rose had dug her spoon into her ice cream and took a bite, before saying quietly, “I would have thought that was fairly obvious.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean? I didn’t take Ancient Runes for a reason, Scorpius -- come on, stop talking in riddles.”

He looked at her. Just his eyes meeting hers over their tall glasses of ice cream, with the chocolate flake in his jutting out in the most inappropriate angle possible, but he didn’t say anything. It was as if he were trying to read her; at least, he had a similar intense expression on his face whenever he had his head in a book. And yet, at that moment, he tore his gaze away and stood up abruptly, pushing his glass aside.

“Scorpius, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I -- I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, he walked outside the shop, but she caught up with him quickly and managed to grab his wrist once he reached the Apparition point. Only, by that point, he had already turned on the spot, and, thrown off by the unexpected Side-Along Apparition, Rose landed with a thump on the floor of Scorpius’s flat, and she swore loudly before she could even draw breath. She reached up blindly, trying to find something that she could hold so she could get up, and yelped when she realised she was grabbing Scorpius’s leg.

“Shit, sorry.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed, and all humour seemed to have disappeared altogether.

After a moment, she managed to get to her feet and offered her hand to him, but he ignored her and got up himself, holding on to the sofa for support. Rose disregarded this, though, and answered, “I didn’t think you’d just Apparate away like that. I just wanted to talk--”

“To talk?” he repeated bitterly. “What, like my fucking counsellor?”

“I’m not your counsellor and never want to be, if this is how you talk to people,” Rose shot back. Part of her wanted to provoke him and make him yell at her, because anything would be better than the cold wall she felt she was hitting trying to get through to him. “Jesus. I'm sorry for caring, Scorpius, really. But I know something’s wrong.”

“How? You don’t even know me,” Scorpius snarled, and finally, his jokey façade had disappeared. It dawned on her how upset Scorpius looked in that moment, and, slowly, they both sank on the sofa, Scorpius with his face in his hands and Rose watching him.

“Is this about…” Rose hesitated. Scorpius’s daughter, who had been murdered several months before, was and had always been unspoken territory for them, but something in Rose pushed her to say the name that she hadn’t uttered in months. “…Ophelie?”

“What about her?” he said roughly. “Why does everyone have to always bring her up eventually? I thought you were different, Rose. I thought I could actually have a fucking conversation with you, at least, without you mentioning m-my daughter’s name, because everything -- everything­ -- is always chalked up to that, isn’t it? I’m not allowed to be upset just because, am I?”

Her voice was unusually small as she whispered, “I don’t know! I'm sorry, okay? Talk to me. Please. Tell me, since whatever’s made you angry, I’ve obviously got it wrong.”

But Scorpius just shook his head, and she couldn’t help placing her finger under his chin and lifting his face to hers. “Look at me,” she said quietly, “and tell me whatever you want to tell me. I can’t promise to be of much help, but for God’s sake, Scorpius, you’ve got to talk to me. Forget about the goddamn goblins. You’re still grieving. I get that. Just--” She broke off, unsure what she was even trying to say. However, a split second later, Rose felt warm lips on hers, and she could taste vanilla and chocolate on his tongue as Scorpius easily plied her mouth open. Though thoroughly taken aback, she allowed him to kiss her, her hand trailing down to his hip and his body pressing against hers, so much so that she could feel the hard muscles of his abdomen contract at every breath. She couldn’t breathe, though, and she pulled away, still with her forehead leaning on Scorpius’s.

“What are you doing?” Rose asked in as level a voice as possible (how was she able to be so calm?). His hand was still on the back of her neck, his fingers reaching up to tangle in her hair. With a tug, he removed the clip holding it in place and her hair fell around her shoulders in unruly curls.

“That’s what’s wrong,” he murmured. “I… I know we’re not supposed to… the new rules about relationships within the office are stupid, but we’re meant to follow them, and--”

“Because I'm really a stickler for rules,” she said dryly. Rose shifted a little until she was draped on top of him on the sofa, kicking off her shoes as she did so.

“You drive me insane,” he whispered.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Rose replied, leaning in and kissing him once more. “You’ve danced around me for years--”

“We’ve danced around each other,” Scorpius corrected, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Fucking hell, Rose. You -- I don’t think you realise how hard it’s been for me to be around you sometimes--”

Somehow, she managed to hide her shock at that, and she asked, “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I… wasn’t sure you…”

The expression in his eyes was at once infuriating and endearing. “You think I don’t want this -- that I don’t want you?”

“I’m not sure,” Scorpius replied unnecessarily, and he hesitantly pressed a kiss on her temple. Rose shivered, even though she was warm and she could feel his warmth mingle with hers and permeate her skin. “Rose, I--”

“What is it?”

“IthinkI’minlovewithyou,” he said in one breath, and though he looked completely serious and her mouth opened in shock, she couldn’t help but arch her eyebrow in amusement.

“You think you’re in love with me?”

At this, he made to get up, but she grabbed his wrist and didn’t let him. “Okay, I am in love with you,” Scorpius admitted. “I… I don’t want this to be some one-night stand or a -- fumble, us messing around like we did… before.”

“You mean, you want us to be a -- thing?” Rose said after hesitating.

He kissed her cheek. “I can think of about a million ways to put that far more articulately,” he said, a smile on his lips, “but yes. A thing. If you want.”

The hopefulness on his face sparked something in Rose, and she kissed him, then. And it was easier to breathe this time, easier to hook her legs around his waist and kiss down his neck, even if they did tumble rather inelegantly to the floor. Their fall was cushioned somewhat, however, by the soft rug, and either way, she didn’t want to speak anymore, in case it broke whatever spell they had managed to create, and he seemed to have wordlessly agreed with her. The room wasn’t silent -- Rose was sure she let out a groan when his fingers found their way into her bra strap, and her hand between his legs had obviously not gone unnoticed by him -- but no words were being said, perhaps because words were dangerous and had meaning, and Rose had no idea what the meaning of whatever they were doing was.

She sat up, still straddling him, and took off her robes, watching his reaction carefully, anxiously, almost. He looked aroused, yes, but he also looked… scared? Still, she didn’t say anything, slowly opening his robes and kissing her way down to his abdomen, only stopping when she had to -- when the soft trail of hair was halted by his boxers, and she looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back, albeit tremblingly, and when she first just used her hand, Scorpius tensed, and she said, “I can always stop if you like.”

He shook his head quickly, saying softly, “Don’t stop”, and slowly, Rose continued to tease him with her thumbs and her palms and then, finally, her tongue. It had never been her favourite sexual activity, but she thought things were different with Scorpius. Very different. Rose took pleasure in how much he had held back before he came at last; there was something ridiculously endearing about him that made her plant a firm kiss on his lips afterwards.

“You didn’t have to--” he began to say, but she silenced him with another kiss.

“I’m not complaining,” she murmured, “and I doubt you are, either.”

Nevertheless, she did not anticipate the sudden feeling of fingers sweeping across her breast, rubbing on a particularly sensitive spot, before he got to the stretch marks on her hips. She nodded encouragingly, and then his hand dipped between lace, thumbs spread wide and first tracing down until both thumbs met at the bottom. He had somehow manoeuvred himself on top of her; with one hand, he managed to drag down her panties so they were around her thighs, and her heart swooped down to her stomach, and she gasped in a way she was sure wasn’t particularly attractive but she was beyond caring. Rose arched up against him, and he brought her right to the brink when, unexpectedly, he withdrew his fingers and instead focused on kissing her neck. It was exquisite torture for Rose, when she was so close, but what was worse was the burning in her belly, which had intensified even more as she pushed at his chest so she was astride him once more.

The smile he bestowed upon her was almost challenging, as if he knew exactly what he had done to her, and in a strange sort of way, she hoped her kiss stung and scalded his lips in the same way it had hers. When their pelvises were finally aligned and she was able to slide onto him, the tiny moment of pain was nothing, because at last, the tension he had managed to create between her legs was finally being relieved, and she came not after very long, her nails leaving scratches on his arms, and his eyes bled into hers. Rose wanted to say something, but she had no idea what, so instead, she moved with him, allowing him to kiss down her shoulder while his hand played with her breast, and all the while, the only sounds were his soft groans and his loud epithets as he came a second time.

For a moment, she lay draped on top of him, contentment washing over them both and the slight roughness of the rug abrading her legs, but she didn’t care.

“Scorpius?”

“Yeah?”

“I… I think I love you, too.”