Disclaimer: Not JK…

A/n: So the next chapter, finally. Hope it is as good as I wanted it to be because this is for Sid(SidSaid) on her birthday! I know it isn't a one shot and a WIP, but I wanted to dedicate this to you Sid!

Chapter 4: Like A Cat In The Rain

Rose walked carefully through the corridors, trying to avoid standing for too long in front of the windows lest the cold penetrate the thick layer of clothing she had on. It was pouring outside and even Rose, who loved the rain, couldn't help but think that such torrential downpour might possibly wash out the entire castle. Folding her hands close to her body, she drew her cloak over it, making herself a cocoon. Feeling a bit warmer, Rose continued with her patrol. She was patrolling alone; as she had been for a while now. Since the Quidditch match, to be precise. Memories she had tried to avoid penetrated the wall of her mind and Rose sighed; she was losing this fight. In a way, she missed her normal patrol partner. Thoughts of him invariably brought up the unavoidable guilt that caught at her throat. Fifteen days; a solid fortnight had slipped by without her seeing him. It had been a week since he had been released and Rose was still studiously avoiding him. It wasn't a hard task, seeing as he was doing the same. The only unavoidable times were the classes but she had taken to sitting near the front desks, avoiding even that small chance. The only time she felt his presence was when he walked by her desk to his and most times, she pretended to be immersed in her book to evade him.

Even the Heads commonroom seemed devoid of the usual cheer and the banter that was the norm every evening. Rose had begun to hole up inside her dorm, partly because she was afraid of confronting him and partly because she couldn't take the loneliness. It took her ego a lot of hits, but she had admitted to herself, sometime in the past week that her normal day consisted of Scorpius way more than it normally should; it was just arguing was the only consolation she had for herself.

Shaking aside the familiar feeling of cold that enveloped her every time she thought of him, Rose finished her rounds and returned to the Heads commonroom, confident that she wouldn't encounter any unwanted person a.k.a. Scorpius.

"Stingy," she said to the portrait of the little girl with a bouquet of lilies in her hand, taking careful steps into the room. The girl seemed a little bit ruffled; could it be Scorpius' doing? But inside, there was no indication that he had been inside. The fire in the hearth was unlit, his books were arranged the same way she had seen them be when she had left for rounds; maybe he hadn't been in the mood for studying. Shrugging, Rose lifted her eyes to his dorm room; the room was wide open, which was unusual.

A frown breaking through the unaffected look on her face, Rose walked up the stairs, making sure to make enough noise if he was inside after all. A quick look through his dorm room told her what she had guessed; he wasn't in there.

A weird feeling catching hold of her heart, Rose walked quickly down the steps and floo called the Gryffindor commonroom. Thankfully, it was Aquila who noticed her and not Albus who would obviously have ignored her and wasted her time with his snarky remarks. If someone had told her a month ago that her closest cousin could be such a jerk to her, she would never have believed it, but now…

"Rose? Is something wrong?" Aquila's face turned concerned as she kneeled before the fire; she knew Rose never called unless it was important.

"It's Scorpius; I'm sure he might still be patrolling or he might have gone to the Slytherin or Gryffindor commonrooms but I just wanted to make sure; his dorm room is wide open; he hasn't touched his books; he…" Rose's unconnected words halted when Aquila's expression turned worried. After talking with Albus for a minute, Aquila gave her the news she had feared; Albus hadn't seen Scorpius since the last class; no-one had, for that matter.

Flashes of Scorpius lying in the dungeons, unknown to anybody; Scorpius screaming from a migraine; Scorpius walking carelessly down a flight of stairs….the images crossed unhindered across her mind; each causing her to panic more than the previous one. She pushed it aside for Aquila's sake and tried to smile, though she was sure she failed.

"He might have got held up; maybe he caught someone out after curfew and had to deal with them," she told her friend and broke the connection, quickening her footsteps towards the portrait hole. After inquiring with the girl, Rose was reasonably sure where he was and walked with determined footsteps towards the spiral staircase.

What was he thinking? Did he have no sense of self preservation at all?

XXXX

Scorpius caught the three Quaffles that zoomed towards him at alarming speed in a flash, throwing them back. The balls floated in mid air as if they were puppets before they disappeared. Scorpius didn't panic; he had been the one who had duplicated them and charmed them to act on their own. Keeping his eyes out for the flash of maroon, Scorpius flew left and right restlessly; the duplicating spell had slowed down the Charm, making the balls slower than he liked. Maybe he should have practiced with just two Quaffles, but he would have been left with far too much time at his hands and time was his enemy now. Being left without time to think was what he needed; desperately.

Rain poured down by the galleons and dripped down his face; making trails down his cheeks and dripping annoyingly from his eyebrows. Scorpius pushed aside the drops impatiently, not even thinking about the sad state which his robes would be in. He, who had once been borderline obsessed about his dress; a fact Weasley had taken every opportunity to point out and ridicule. A low growl escaped his lips; he wasn't so lacking in self control. Grey eyes matching the stormy sky above, Scorpius dove as one of the Quaffles attacked him from the side; it disappeared into smoke as soon as his hands caught it. The second came from above and was caught with the same ease that was his trademark.

Never panic was what his father had taught him and he wouldn't; not in the game, not in his life. Even if a fiery spirited redhead made it humanly impossible. Cursing under his breath, Scorpius looked out for the third ball, the real one, the trickiest one, which appeared in a second and was caught safely in his hands. Scorpius, lost in thought, held the ball too tightly, throwing it with all his might as the anger in him mounted. What, or who, he was angry about, he couldn't fathom.

He wasn't having a disagreement with any of the people he knew; even the Professors, who normally acted disappointed about his outwardly carefree attitude seemed to have developed a soft spot for him since his injury. The smirk which appeared on his lips evaporated immediately as the incident arose in his mind.

Scorpius had acted on instinct and had saved the Hufflepuff Chaser; but even then, he had had no doubt whose fault it was. Weasley's, altogether Weasley's. He had even seen the slightly satisfied expression on her face when he had fallen; the last thing that had haunted his eyes and his dreams until he had awoken.

Admittedly, Scorpius knew it had been rather too much to expect Weasley to come meet him at the Infirmary. They were enemies and they had a war going between them; it made sense for her to gloat and enjoy her victory. Why then had he waited for her? Woke up everytime he thought he heard footsteps? Started everytime a flash of red caught his attention?

His own questions enraging him with no way for escape, Scorpius showed it the only way he could; by being moody and downright rude to the people around him. Even his mild mannered cousin Aquila had walked away from him with a hurt expression when he had spoken to her sharply. He had felt bad about it for hours afterwards; he had even apologized to her, but the irritability hadn't dissipated. It had settled down in him, brewing into a wild hurricane that raged without any possible vent.

Scorpius knew who he should be cross with; Weasley, always Weasley. But all he had done for the past week was avoid her and with her aid, it was easy, too easy. People shouldn't be able to hide this easily. The Heads Commonroom had quite easily become haunted from disuse and Scorpius began hearing voices each time he set foot in there; voices of muttered rage and mocking laughter. Afraid he would become insane, Scorpius had retreated to a place he had never thought he'd set foot in; the library.

Even if he lived there, he couldn't avoid the comonroom altogether, it seemed to drag him back somehow. Maybe it was his innate wish to confront her, maybe it was his partial dependence on the routine, maybe it was plain stupidity. Running through his musings, Scorpius thought he could decide safely on the third.

Deciding that being too stationary was giving him too much chance, Scorpius banished the Quaffle to the ground and began flying around the pitch in a furious blur. He was dry in a few seconds, the speed saving him from the rain; so fast was he flying. He didn't notice, intent on not hitting onto the stands; controlling his broom was challenging enough at this speed that he had little attention for anything else.

So it was natural that he stammered when a Quaffle knocked into his side; admittedly, it wasn't very forceful so it didn't hurt. Scorpius slowed down enough to scope out the source of the interruption. It was hard to see in the pouring rain but Scorpius knew the form too well to mistake its identity.

His broom, reacting to his anger began accelerating and once again, the raindrops failed to drench him.

XXXX

Rose felt like screaming; she had been so worried about him and he wasn't even…Rose considered searching out the Quaffle again and aiming to hurt him this time. But she wasn't sure she will be able to find it in the rain. There was no moon behind the clouds; a new moon night, just her luck. Taking a deep breath, Rose turned and began taking determined steps in the direction where she thought the broom sheds would be. After a few minutes and several bruises on her toe, Rose was sure that she was going in the wrong direction. She had never used the dressing rooms or broom sheds much and it was difficult for her to find them out with the rain pouring down, obscuring her vision.

Rose hurriedly halted her steps when she sensed the lack of ground under her feet; it was too late. She was already stumbling, her heavy clothes quickening her fall, by the time she realized that she had walked towards the steep slope that formed one side of the pitch and led to the Lake. Rose flailed her arms in a futile effort to find a handhold; her breath caught in her throat as a pair of hands caught her around her waist firmly in their grip. Lifted onto the broom, Rose sat sideways in front of the figure that had rescued her. Both of his hands circled around her waist to hold onto the broom so that she was securely seated. Rose could feel the wind in her face as the rose in height. After a few seconds of excruciating silence, Rose could feel the broom slow down. She estimated that they were at least a few hundred feet in the air. It was still raining cats and dogs but Rose was already drenched and shivering so it seemed to have no effect on her. Having no other hold, Rose held onto his cloak tightly.

The broom came to a complete stop and all Rose could hear was the furious breathing beside her; the rain drowned everything else out. Not having the courage, not knowing what to say, Rose remained silent, looking around at everything but him; not that there was much to see anyway.

"Are you going to waste time like this or will you tell me why the hell you came out in this downpour to a pitch without even a wand in your hand?" Lightning flashed as she looked up at him, surprised at his question. His eyes were burning with the hate she had expected; but there was also something else. Before the next flash of lightning, whatever it had been was gone and Rose was left with just the enraged question to answer.

As if knowing that she wouldn't answer, Scorpius continued, "Do you even have any idea how perilous your stupid midnight stroll was? What if some animal from the forest had attacked you? What if you'd wandered into the forest by mistake and got lost? Or worse, hurt? Do you have any idea how the Lake would be in this rain?" Seeing her meek shake of the head, he continued, "It would be completely flooded; and do you know where you would have landed had you tripped and fallen? Right at the middle of the current and it would have crashed you right onto the trees and…" Scorpius shook his head as if trying to stop a train of thought. A small sigh escaped him and he asked in a low tone, devoid now of the anger, "Was this exploit really worth risking your life, Rose?"

Whether it was his almost affectionate tone, or the fact that he was calling her by her first name for the first time, Rose didn't even try retorting like she normally would have. She replied in a soft tone, "I came looking for you."

"Why? Were you afraid you wouldn't be able to finish what you started two weeks back? The Quaffle throw wasn't strong enough, for your information," Rose reeled back at the venom in his words; there was no mistaking the expression behind his eyes this time.

Eyes widening, Rose let go of her hold on his cloak abruptly, unsettling both of them. Tightening his hold on the broom, it took a moment before Rose could speak, and even when she did, she faced his palms which were holding the broom so tightly that his knuckles were turning white, "Let me down."

"No," his answer was firm and without a sliver of doubt, making Rose wonder what had gotten into him. Her anger overpowering the guilt that had so far stopped her from retorting, Rose asked, "Why? You want me to sit here and listen to you list out my faults? I'm not listening, Scorpius. You know why? Because I know them, all right? I know them well enough without you putting in your two damn knuts!"

Eyes glinting maliciously in the castle's wane light, Scorpius' voice was unyielding as he spoke, "It's either that or…how would you like to fall down from here, Weasley?"

Shoulders stiffening at his threatening tone, Rose replied sharply, facing his eyes head on, "I'd much prefer that to your company, Malfoy."

Scorpius lifted one of his hands from his hold and used his other to roughly push her off the broom; only when she landed on hard ground did Rose realize that they had been coming down for a while and she hadn't noticed. Standing up in a flash, Rose tried to shake off the dirt on her cloak; which wasn't a hard task since the rain washed it all away.

Resolving to give him one last glare, Rose looked at Scorpius; his cloak was clinging to him like a second skin, his normally soft looking hair was matted to his head and his face, matching that hard expression on his face. Some Prince he'd make Rose thought to herself as she remembered Aquila's list: Clothes will be perfect, both flattering and well-fitting, at all times

Unaware of the stare she was being subjected to, Rose marched back to the castle, intent on getting a good nights' sleep with absolutely no thought about drowning Head Boys.

The image of her shocked, disbelieving expression as she fell from his broom lingered on the forefront of Scorpius' mind long after the object of his thoughts had disappeared; he still couldn't fathom why he had acted so. What had prompted him to behave so roughly towards her? Had he been too harsh? Was he wrong?

No; the answer was immediate; Malfoys are never wrong; especially with Weasleys. Thus convinced, Scorpius continued with his practice; though even he could see that his mind wasn't in it like it had been an hour ago.

A/n: I know I made Scorpius seem like a right prick, but don't give up on him yet! So, what do you guys think? Good enough? Too childish? Too cliché?