"Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love."

-Charlie Brown.

I glared at my plate as I scarfed down another peanut butter sandwich. Bloody sandwich. Bloody peanut butter that tastes like sand. And most of all, bloody Scorpius Malfoy for making me put on approximately twenty pounds in one night . A house elf approached her, her ears trembling with eagerness. "Would Miss like another sandwich?"

"NO!" I exclaimed, before blinking and apologising, "Sorry, Fiffy, I'm not feeling very well... could I have some ice cream, please? Strawberry, if you've got it..."

"Of course, Miss!"

"Thank you! But Fiffy?"

"Yes Miss?"

"What brand of peanut butter is this?"

"The extra-chunky one that Miss likes so much... may Fiffy ask why Miss wants to knows?"

"It just tastes...bland, that's all, thanks, Fiffy."

"Fiffy will just get Miss' ice-cream."

As the old little elf scurried away, I banged my head on the table in front of me, thoughts of a blonde boy drowning out the busy hustle and bustle of the school kitchen, which is, in itself, quite an accomplishment, I suppose.

"Sorry Miss!" said one sprightly elf as he practically ran towards a saucer of milk that was threatening to overflow. As I nodded vaguely, another thought about Scorpius Malfoy popped into my head. Did he like peanut butter? I myself am quite a fan, as you already know, I suppose. I like it crunchy, either plain, or with strawberry preserve. How did Scorpius like his peanut butter? Crunchy, or smooth? With jam or without? If he liked it with jam, which jam did he like? And did he have it on toast or on bread? Did he-

My train of thought was interrupted by Fiffy's arrival. "Here you is Miss!"

I smiled my thanks as I dug in. "Is miss liking it?" Asked the house elf anxiously, watching me. Adorable things, these house-elves.

"Delicious as always," I forced a smile.

"Is something wrong, Miss?" Ah, Fiffi. She had known me since I was a tiny toddler. She used to look after the house-elves in my mum's 'Home for Aged Elves', but as she got older, she started working in Hogwarts again.

I paused for a minute before I thought, 'What the heck,' and answered, "Well, Fiffy, there's this guy-"

Fiffy's wrinkled old face broke into a smile. "Say no more, miss; it seems but yesterday that Fiffy was having this same conversation with Miss Granger." She sighed. "In a right state she was, and it was all Fiffy could do to keep her from crying, Miss!"

She patted me on the back as I stared at her, confused. "And is Fiffy right to be guessing that Miss' object of fancy is Mr Malfoy?"

My spoon clattered to the ground, and when I emerged back from under the table with it in my hand, my face was hot and red. I asked, "Mum came here to think about dad?"

Fiffy nodded again, beaming. "Yes, Miss!"

A smile cracked my embarrassed face as I tried to imagine my mum and dad younger, with my mum coming down to the kitchen to think about her future husband.

Fiffy continued, "Miss Granger would be coming down to the kitchen to cry. But she would not accept any food, Miss! Fiffy is glad you has a better appetite!"

I nodded as she continued eating. "Well, Fiffy, you see, with Malfoy... It's complicated. He hates me and I hated him... until around two weeks ago. You see, I always knew he was good looking (and I sort of had a teeny crush on him-except when we were fighting), but I thought he was mean and... well, I thought he was a downright bastard... then, I saw this little first year Hufflepuff on the way back from potions. The poor little girl was sitting down and crying her eyes out I was on my way to help her, but then Scorpius popped out of nowhere and he sat down next to the poor little thing, and spoke to her. Turned out her mother had died of cancer. And, you know, Fiffi, seeing him like that... well, I sort of fell in love with him." How pathetic. My heart was beating faster just thinking about him.

I had another couple of spoons of ice-cream, "I never used to get upset by his insults, but I do now! And I run away practically in tears, a-and-"

Fiffy patted me arm as me voice (oh, shame!) cracked and tears appeared in my eyes. I quickly blinked them away. "I'm sorry Fiffy. It's just that... He has a girlfriend now, and it's like he deliberately snogs her in front of me... like he wants to break my heart into thousands of tiny pieces and then stomp on them and- " I looked around; the house elf had disappeared into the midst of tiny elves carrying trays of food. Just as I was about to stand up and start looking for her (maybe she was trampled underfoot?), she reappeared, clutching a faded parchment, yellow with age.

"What's this, Fiffy?" Could it be ancient runes? A spell? A spell to make someone fall in love with you? But I pushed that thought out of my mind as soon as it entered. Make Scorpius fall in love with me? No- not even that, for all love potions did was produce a strong feeling of longing. Lust, not love. Not acceptable. And anyway, Malfoy has a girlfriend. Whom he snoggs. On a regular basis. In front of me. On purpose. Because he knows it upsets me. That bastard. That hot, sexy bastard I am completely in love with.

I was brought out of my reverie by a tugging on my sleeve. "Miss should read this! It was written by Miss' Mother, it was."

"Mum wrote this?"

The elf nodded solemnly and thrust the paper at her.

'To Ronald Weasley:

True love is about holding hands and lingering glances, and secret midnight dances;

About hugs and understanding, and being un-demanding;

About kisses on the cheek and smiles, and warm and fuzzy feelings inside;

About love letters in the middle of the night, and making up after fights;

About laughter, and maybe tears, and hopes, and some fears;

About being the one that are two, and not being afraid to say I do...

-Hermione Granger.'

I bit my lip to prevent myself from laughing. My mother, editor of The Daily Prophet actually wrote this? This terrible mushy poem? That is, if you could even call it a poem. But... my situation... is sort of similar to my parents', right? Scorpius is dating someone and I'm jealous. So we might even get married!

I stuffed it in my pocket, and smiled at the wrinkled old elf. "Thanks, Fiffy! This really made me feel better!"

"Fiffy was happy to help, Miss!"

I thanked Fiffi again, before sighing and getting up. Carrying the tub of melted ice cream with me, I walked around the kitchen, not really looking where I was going, when I bumped into something solid and hard, that smelt like peppermint, happiness, and my daydreams. I gulped.

"Malfoy."

"Rose," he smiled.

I gulped again as my heart beat accelerated. "Whaddo you want Malfoy?"

He grinned. "Oh, nothing, Rosie, just broke up with my girlfriend, yatta yatta yatta, in desperate need of comfort food... you know?"

"Don't call me Rosie! And you don't look very upset..." I shook off his hand as he tried to lead me to the armchair where I had been sitting (I tried my hardest not to stare at his arse. Which, by the way, is very nice.). His hand was so warm- and the way it engulfed my own (much smaller) one felt so... right. Merlin, I'm beginning to sound like some soppy romance novel!

He plonked himself down on the armchair. "I'm not" he replied lazily. "Tiara Cammi is a real bitch. Hot though."

"Mmm... Well, I'll go, so you can think of another girl just like her to date-" I turned around, but he grabbed my wrist.

"Wait!" Well, he didn't have to ask me twice.

I tried my hardest to act exasperated. I'm a pretty good actor. Guess those summer workshops paid off. "What, Malfoy?"

"Have a seat, Sweetheart." He patted his lap.

I glared at him and sat on the table instead. " So...?"

He smiled, almost... seductively. "You have peanut butter on your face."

How embarrassing. I blushed as I brushed vaguely at my cheek. "Did I get it?"

"Nope. Wait, I'll get it for you." My heart stopped. I swear, it just stopped beating right there.

He leaned forward, a strange look in his beautiful grey eyes; he was inches away from me...

I closed my eyes, frozen, waiting. I felt something tap my cheek. I opened one eye, then another. And there he was, leaning back on his armchair, smirking.

My eyes filled with tears and, I swear, my heart almost broke right there. Who was I trying to kid? He was Scorpius Malfoy; he could have any girl in the entire school... why would he like me? Plain little Rose Weasley- flat, ugly, bushy hair, glasses. Hadn't he told me over and over again what he thought of me in our screaming matches?

So (and I'm ashamed to admit it) I turned and ran.

I thought I hear him cry, "Rose, wait!" But it was probably my imagination.

Turns out it wasn't. My imagination, I mean. Because the next thing I knew, Scorpius Malfoy was kissing the living daylights out of me. And he tasted like Peanut Butter.

... Nah, just kidding. He tasted like mint. But I probably tasted like peanut butter.

When I asked him later, he said I tasted like strawberries. Then he kissed me again. I also found out later that it was Al's idea to 'act like a jerk so I would fall for him'.

Another thing? Turns out, he's allergic to peanuts. I guess I'll just have to invent a potion soon. Not too soon, 'cuz of the wedding. My wedding. And then the honeymoon...

Hmm...

Oh well.

I dig into another jar of peanut butter as Lily shrieks at me to stop eating or else I won't fit into my wedding dress and Dominique tries to tug the jar away. But, it just tastes sooo good. Nothing puts the taste back in peanut butter like getting married to the man of your dreams.

Well, all's well that ends well.

"Honestly Rosie, are you pregnant or something? These sudden cravings for peanut butter?"

"Oh Crap."

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