Phase One: Spend time with her.

Oh, Merlin. That was brilliant. Why in Merlin's smelliest robes did I not think it sooner? Okay, okay, I'll back up and explain.

It all started during the Potions period. Slughorn (Yes, I know, it's incredible he's still alive. But, yes, he's still working at Hogwarts; even the ol' Slug Club is up, kicking and more active than ever. And by 'active' I mean great at partying. ) was going on about something or the other and I barged in.

"I'm sorry I'm late, sir." I tried an apologetic face. "I have a note from Professor McGonagall, sir, if it helps." Yes, I do in fact have one, but McGonagall gave it to me a few years back when my arm broke and I had to get it fixed up in the Hospital Wing. It's a good thing those excuse notes don't have dates on them. I knew they were gonna be handy someday.

Slughorn took the note, his beady little eyes skimming over it, looked suspiciously at me, back at the note and finally said, "Very well, Mr. Malfoy. Next time, do try not to break your arm in the Transfiguration corridor."

I knew he was onto me the moment I saw that I would not be getting my note back. Oh, well. Slughorn held a good grudge against me all just because of my bloodline. He has no love for the Malfoy family. Contacts, my father once said to me about old Sluggy, are what he needs. Not us, who will only bring him down.

I took my seat next to Rose, trying to act as if she were any other person other than Rose Weasley. I mean, she's Rose Weasley! I am mere inches away from her and she's not hexing me or anything! Sure, she's looking like she wants to hex me, but she isn't!

"Today, we are making a very complicated potion. It is dark, dark blue if brewed correctly and makes the user remember everything sad they have experienced. It takes 6 months to brew. Can anyone tell me what it is called?"

Surprisingly, Rose's hand was not in the air. Mine was.

"It's a Memaya Potion, sir." I remember that, but from where? Her. Of course. Rose once said to me, after a particularly loud and bad fight, that taking the Memaya Potion would be useless for me because my whole life is what I would remember instead of certain sad experiences.

"Correct, Mr. Malfoy," said Slughorn coldly. Why won't he give me any House points? "We shall be brewing this in class starting today. Who you're sitting next to will be your partner for the project. The instructions are on page 256 of your book, so start now. Any questions?"

"Is it like a dementor, sir?" asked Daffodil Goldstein, Rose's closest friend, with her hand in the air.

"Excellent question, Miss Goldstein! Excellent! 10—er, no, how about 20 points for Gryffindor!" Merlin, Slughorn was such an arse-kisser. Just because she's the daughter of Anthony Goldstein, one of the Minister's most trusted colleagues, Slughorn treats her as if she was Circe reincarnated. I answer his question= no points. She asks a measly question=20 points. Wait, Slughorn's talking. And I should be listening.

"—The Memaya Potion indulges the taker in their moments of deep sadness, making the user forget his happy memories; while the dementor acts like a vacuum, sucking happiness from its victim and leaves sadness behind," explained the Epitome of Brown-Nosing. "Any more questions? No? Good. As I was saying, your partner will be the person you're currently sitting next to. Swapping of partners will not be tolerated," he said, while looking at me.

It is not an uncommon fact that Rose doesn't like me. It is, however, uncommon for professors to know that she doesn't like me and not do something about it (i.e. group counseling sessions or something to that effect). Besides, I would never switch partners, never, because now, I have struck gold. Phase One of Operation: Rose, which is to Spend Time With Her, is in action, for she is now my partner in a six-month long potion brewing. This is going to be good.

"So we're partners, huh?" I attempt to break the ice. Her face was one of disgust.

"Hmmm, what was that Slughorn said? Who you're seated with will be your partner, right? And, hmmm, will you look at that? We're seated together! And what does that tell you?" she sounded like she was talking to a stupid kid.

"Sheesh, woman! All I did was try to ease the tension between us!" The romantic tension I hope.

"Why ever would there be tension between us, Blondie?" She's mocking me! What the hell? How'd my hair get into this?

"Because of our rather argumentative history, Red."

"Don't call me Red, Blondie. Or else certain things will happen to certain parts of you and to put it nicely, when those things happen, I will do the Macarena on your grave," she said menacingly.

"Oh, so you can call me Blondie but I can't call you Red, Ginger?"

"Yes. And don't call me Ginger either."

"So, um, Rose—"

"Did you just call me Rose?"

"What did you expect me to call you? 'Your Highness', perhaps? Or maybe 'She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'? What is with you and nicknames? Anyway, we're Potions partners and I am absolutely not failing this class because of petty quarrels. What do you say we have a truce for a while, eh, Vermilion? A little civility, as you would call it." I stuck out my hand.

"Whatever, Yellow," she said, rolling her blueblueblue eyes. Something's changed though in her eyes. Was that surprise in there? She seemed to be arguing with herself and nodded. Her small hand reaches up to meet mine and whoosh goes the little electricity between our hands making me tingly. Our hands touched for probably 10 seconds but it seemed longer than that. Wait one moment please while I shout to the great heavens (in my head of course).

I GOT TO HOLD HER, ROSE "CRIMSON" WEASLEY'S HAND! Merlin, stop smiling, Scorpius! Think of something sad, like kittens dying. Or in extreme pain. Or something. Just stop smiling you idiot!

"Yellow? Why are you grinning like that? Merlin, you look like the Cheshire Cat!" I guess it didn't work. "Stop it, you're freaking me out. First with the civility and now smiling?" She's shaking her head now, her red Weasley hair swishing around.

"What, Ruby? Can't I be a little happy at finally being able not to hear your nasal voice?" But I was still smiling when I said it, so I probably wasn't as mean as that sounded. Wait, what if I have a piece of spinach in my teeth? Did I even brush my teeth today? What if she takes one look at them and decides never to talk to me again? Merlin, romantic interaction is exhausting.

Even the thought of having green specs in between my pearly whites didn't stop me from smiling like a loon. Note to self: practice trying not to smile in her presence.

"Dude. You are seriously freaking me out. Is it me? Is there something weird in my hair or something?" Rose patted her flame-red hair in worry.

"Nope, you're perfect." WHAT THE HELL, MOUTH. WAIT UNTIL BRAIN APPROVES OF WHAT YOU'RE ABOUT TO SAY BEFORE YOU ACTUALLY SAY IT. "Erm, what I mean to say is your hair is in perfectly frizzy condition, Garnet."

"Okay, okay, you can stop with the hair jokes. I'll call you by your first name if you call me by mine." Oh dear, oh dear. How do I say her name without smiling?

"Alright, Rose."

"Okay, Scorpius, there you go with the smiling problem again."

"Whatever. Now, let's get down to business." I opened up my textbook, and tried to read, but my eyes kept looking around the room and the words were blurry. After a while of reading and glancing at me, Rose decided to speak.

"Scorpius, although it is common knowledge that you are dumb enough to hex Tommy Abrams, even I didn't expect your level of stupidity to be so low that you hold a book upside down and don't even notice for an approximate of…" she checks her watch and looks up at me, lightly smirking. "fifteen minutes."

"Um, oh." I flipped the book over but still didn't focus on reading. We Malfoys are not known for shows of embarrassment, unlike the infamous Weasley Blush, and all we do to acknowledge said embarrassment is to pretend like it never happened. Just like the war.

"Alright, Scorpius, enough with the reading. Or whatever you're doing. Let's get planning." Since she didn't seem to want to write it down, I took over the position of secretary for her.

"We'll have to make a schedule of when to work on the potion and when to plan for the work. We should meet at least twice a week, because I am not letting Slughorn bring my O down to an E because of a potion that was not given enough attention." Pfft, as if Horace "Arse-Kisser" Slughorn would bring Rose Weasley's grades a mere E. That's as unlikely as McGonagall tap dancing her way to join the triathlon. And at her age now, it is extremely unlikely.

"When can we meet? I'm no good on Monday, Quidditch practice. Tuesdays are okay—"

"Tuesdays are okay for me too." I interrupted.

"Good. The first meeting shall be on Tuesday. Say, around eight o'clock in the Library?" she asked.

"Fine by me. The next meeting can be on Thursday. I'm free then," I offered.

"Um, no, I have patrolling duties to do on Thursday," she said.

"I'm busy Friday, how about Saturday?"

"I'm no good in the morning but I have the afternoon off. Saturday afternoon—"

"Around three o'clock, library," I finished.

"Great. It's a date then!" she grinned at me.

"A d-date?" I stuttered.

Wait, we go from hair insults to a date? Talk about progress. I know this probably isn't an actual date with Rose Weasley, but she was the one who said it. Does that mean she likes me back? Or maybe she was just teasing me. But why would she torture me like that? Girls.

"Oh, um, no! Not a date! Just two acquaintances doing Potions! Of course!" she said, not meeting my eye. Was it me or did she seem… disappointed?

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter. And God, this is so late. Like almost a year late. But whatevs. Also, I am not good with the British lingo so please bear with me.