Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series.

Rose Weasley was chewing the tip of her quill again.

There was absolutely nothing unusual in this. It was simply a part of her thinking process (along with drinking gallons of the foulest smelling herbal teas which she claimed contained oxidants and Hugo claimed contained sewage). Al had once remarked that Rose had more feathers in her stomach than your average owl. It was the way the sun rose in the east and the earth revolved around the sun: normal.

What was definitely abnormal was the fact that Scorpius just couldn't seem to look away. It was mad, as he realized around the thirteenth time he caught himself staring at her, to find a girl abusing plumage attractive. But there was just something that he couldn't quite define in the way she held that ridiculous quill and kept on nibbling on its end that fascinated him. He was staring at the quill, not her, he told himself. It was a massive, ostentatious peacock quill and for the first few days, everyone had given Rose mystified looks when they saw it. It just didn't fit with her reputation as the shyest Weasley.

He was punished for not paying attention to the game of Exploding Snap that he had been playing with Ian Finnegan and Al, when Al's cards rose up and singed his brows.

"Bloody hell! That's the highest I've ever seen these old cards go," said Ian, impressed.

Al grinned and replied, "That's because I'm playing with the lousiest Snap player in the world."

Before Scorpius could voice an indignant retort defending his Snapper skills, a tall blonde girl walked by and Al's automatically dropped his cards to sweep his hair back.

Ian, oblivious to Al's reaction to the girl's presence, cheerfully called, "Hey, Clara, want to play?"

Her brown eyes surveyed their group and hardened when they landed on Al's hopeful face. "No thanks, Ian," she said haughtily and retreated to the girls' dorms.

Ian frowned, puzzled. "She's not usually like that," he assured the other two. "Must be having a bad day or something."

"Or something," Scorpius agreed, looking at Al's scowling face as his friend threw his cards on the table and announced that he had a Potions essay due the next day.

"I thought you were going to finish it on the breakfast table tomorrow."

Al's hands balled up into fists. Scorpius was aware of Rose's alarmed eyes on them and he turned back long enough to send her a reassuring smile. It was also long enough for Al's fist to catch him unawares on his jaw. Scorpius spun back and retaliated with blow to his stomach. Al stepped back a pace and glared at him, but a small smile was starting to break through.

He aimed a good kick at Scorpius' shins and the other boy fell down shouting, "Dirty play!" However, he stuck his leg out and tripped Al as soon as he hit the carpeted floor and that would have been the start of the 136th fistfight between the two had a Prefect not interrupted them.

"What – do – you – think – you're – doing?" demanded the bossy brown haired girl, reminding Al forcibly of his Aunt Hermione.

Behind them, Ian was laughing so much that he'd fallen off the armchair and several people nearby were chuckling as well. Rose, Scorpius was pleased to see, had a small smile on her face, although she continued to scribble away on her parchment with her mangled quill.

While Al muttered a half-hearted apology and the girl cast a dark look around the room to all those who found the scene amusing, Scorpius noted that she'd started chewing her quill again.

He hauled himself off the floor, ignoring Ian's exaggeratedly proffered hand. Scorpius sat down next to Rose, earning himself several surprised looks from his housemates.

"Why are you using a quill bigger than your arm?" he questioned.

"It's my Mum's."

He found it difficult to imagine Al's stern Aunt using the colourful quill while signing documents in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Really?" he said dubiously.

She looked up briefly and smiled. "Well no," she admitted. "Not really. It belonged to a DADA Professor my mother used to fancy when she was at Hogwarts. I found it lying around in the attic."

Scorpius tried to imagine Mrs. Weasley as a love-struck young girl and failed miserably. Rose looked at him with understanding brown eyes. "It's so difficult to imagine, isn't it? That our parents were also young once."

"You better not let my Mum hear you say that. Last week, Dad told her that her new bright yellow robes were 'too youthful'."

"And?"

"Mr. Burke of Burke's Jewellery is now considerably richer."

She laughed at that and Scorpius felt like joining her even though he'd already told the story too many times for it to be funny for him anymore. She had a lovely laugh, he noticed. It wasn't an irritating giggle or harsh cacophony or even a grating, irritating chuckle. It was just... perfect.

"So why are you using it? Are you in love with a Professor?"

"Hardly. The only male teachers around are Professor Longbottom, who's almost my uncle, Professor Slughorn, who's so old and fat that I doubt he can see his toes anymore, Professor Binns, who's dead, Professor... Oh for Merlin's sake, Scorpius!"

He had grabbed her sleeve and pulled her close, so that he could whisper in her ear, even though they were sitting on opposite ends of the table.

"It's definitely Binns, then, he sounds like the pick of that pack," he said in a stage-whisper. "But you know, I think that relationship's against the rules."

He smelt like the cinnamon rug freshening sprays the House Elves used on the carpets in the Gryffindor Common Room and his voice seemed to caress the words 'against the rules' in a way that made them seem more exciting than forbidden. For a second, Rose had an insane urge to just keep her head on his shoulder, which was so invitingly close, just to see what it would feel like.

Then she looked up and saw his smile and the fragile thoughts that she had just built crashed. He was just teasing, of course.

Of course.

"Yup," she said brightly, pulling back. "Binns and I are going to walk down the aisle next week. Want to be my maid of honour?"

"I'd be honoured."

Then, the portrait door swung open and his girlfriend entered, chatting with her group of friends. He was already half out of his seat when he turned back and said, "Elsie's here. Talk to you later, Rose?"

"Wasn't her name Eloise?" asked Rose, surprised.

"Oh, right," said Scorpius, with an embarrassed, lop-sided smile that made her heart flip over. "I'm rubbish at remembering names. I keep getting them mixed up. It bugged the hell out of you cousin James when I kept calling him Fred last summer."

As he walked away, Rose suddenly realised that he had never called her by any other name. Her heart turned a cartwheel even as Scorpius kissed Eloise and she returned to her homework.