A/n: I was under the impression that I'd posted this chapter and apparently I hadn't... I am so extremely sorry for not updating in ages, real life is exhausting, plus challenges and comps are taking up too much of my time. Anyway, this story should end soon, and hopefully I'll be able to wrap it up in a nice, big bow. Sorry again!

Chapter 34

White Rose

For some reason, no matter how many years passed, he always seemed unnecessarily nervous at the time of exchanging presents. Rose had never once disliked what he had given her – it was the exact opposite, in fact. So his relentless anxiety was much more a source of irritation to him than anything else.

He eyed her sideways again, watching as she laughed at something her father had said as she placed the ridiculously large, golden star on the Christmas tree.

Everything about the tree screamed Gryffindor; from its intensely colourful decorations, to how it had been over decked to the limit, to the flashing gold and red lights, to the multi-coloured presents beneath it.

His father had somehow had the sense to bring in a smaller tree that they kept beside the table in between the couches, and this one was so painfully Slytherin, it made his eyes water. The tree was trimmed to perfection, had just the right amount of decorations in the traditional Christmas colours, was strewn with silver and green lights that glowed gently, and had a small assortment of presents underneath it. Even among the presents, it was obvious which ones belonged to his family and which belonged to hers.

The longer he watched the way her family behaved, exuding a warm and homey atmosphere, the more he could feel the rigid coldness of his own. The one summer he had spent at the Burrow had been enough to show him exactly what kind of a family the Weasleys were, and he wanted to belong among them so much that it physically pained him.

But neither his pale hair and aristocratic demeanor, nor his way of speaking and his lack of expressiveness, nor the mild colours he chose to wear, would ever be able to blend in with the vibrant hair, the dazzling smiles, the myriad of colours in their clothing, and the openly accepting and hot-blooded nature of the Weasleys. Everything only served to show how different their two worlds were and how, no matter how he tried, he couldn't fit into her world.

He immediately eased his face into a smile when she looked his way and she made towards him, seating herself beside Astoria and exchanging smiles with her. His chest tightened at how she was able to simply come and sit down with his family and have a conversation with his mother like she had done so her whole life. Somehow, her vibrant self seemed to bring more colour into the dull hues of his world, her dazzling brightness enveloping them in warmth.

If the intense way in which his father kept looking at her or the curious smile on his grandmother's face meant anything, it was quite obvious that Rose had almost completely assimilated into his way of life. Even with her fiery temper and ready tongue, she was like a raw diamond, rough around the edges, but it was that very factor that made her all the more beautiful.

"Are you going to twitch nervously all night, or are you going to go give her the present you went to such painstaking lengths to acquire?" his grandmother whispered beside his ear, and he had to concentrate to not flinch. He glanced towards where her family was eyeing them, and just as he began to stand up, Hermione grabbed her husband and son and dragged them over to where the rest were seated. She gave him a knowing smile, and, with the twinkle of her eyes, asked Rose to get her a glass of water from the kitchen counter.

He inhaled sharply as he felt the forceful nudge in his side where his grandmother had prodded him. She probably was rushing him for her own amusement than the fact that he was being uncharacteristically cowardly for a Malfoy, but it still worked.

"Hi," he said with a little more force than intended, as he came to stand beside Rose.

"Hello," she replied, raising her eyes to his. Her hand was inches from the glass of water that her mother had asked for, but she left it there, eyeing him sideways, as though waiting for him to say or do something. "Well?" she prompted, when he continued to stare dumbly at her. He sighed through his teeth and shook his head.

"I feel so idiotic right now," he said, more to himself than her.

"You look pretty idiotic as well," she teased, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing.

He concentrated on not fidgeting. "I have no idea why I'm so bloody nervous," he finally admitted, feeling colour rise to his face from the embarrassing confession.

"Really? I'm in the least bit surprised that you are," she said with an air of nonchalance as she inspected the ends of her hair.

"Excuse me?" he demanded, affronted by her matter-of-fact tone.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Do you remember what a complete goof up you were last year when you could barely even look me in the eye, let alone give me a Christmas present?"

"I gave it to you in the end!" he retorted, feeling his ears grow hot.

She tilted her head back and laughed, the bubbling sound making the knot in his chest loosen ever so slightly. "Yes. Yes, you did."

He frowned at her. "You keep poking fun at me and I won't give you your present at all," he warned, hiding his fist behind his back.

Her eyes widened and she stretched her hand out as though reaching for her present. "I'll stop! Please give it to me."

Finally able to ease his expression into his usual one of contempt, he raised his eyebrows at her and smirked, taking a step back. She glowered at him and stuck her lower lip out, making him feel the immediate urge to bit on it.

"I won't give you yours if you don't give me mine," she huffed, crossing her arms and looking like a little girl. He chuckled and finally brought his fist forward.

"Alright, fine, I give into your cuteness. Close your eyes and give me your hand."

She made a simpering sound at being called cute, but obeyed nonetheless, stretching her hand with the charm bracelet out.

"No peeking," he warned, and she made an impatient sound. He concentrated for a moment, and when he heard the reassuring click that the charm was in place, he relaxed and let her wrist go. "There." He watched her face to see her reaction, his stomach tossing and turning from repressed nervousness, excitement and anticipation.

She pulled her wrist up to her face and gingerly twisted it around to find the newest addition to it. Upon finding it, her eyes went round and her mouth fell open in a gasp. She stared at it for so long, his nervousness was starting to return with full force.

"Oh, Scorpius," she breathed, twisting the tiny charm back and forth.

"You like it?" he asked, desperate to know the answer.

"Like it?" she repeated, finally tearing her eyes away from her gift to fix them on him. Her face brightened with a brilliant smile and she blinked rapidly, as though trying to keep tears at bay. "I love it! It's beautiful, thank you."

He grinned widely and laughed airily as all the anxiety escaped out of him in a gush of air from his lungs. "I'm glad, then," he said, holding his hands out, palms upturned.

She stared at them and then up at him, the confusion on her face so obvious that it was adorable.

"My present," he prompted, and a look of realisation dawned on her face as she pressed her lips together.

"I… don't have it," she said quickly, looking away and chewing on her lip. He raised an eyebrow at the obvious lie.

"Of course you do. I saw you pick it up from the pile a little while ago. You've hidden it under the cushion of the seat behind you." He peered around her at the cushion in question.

She immediately stepped sideways to block his view and placed her hands behind her back, as though she was guarding it. "Don't be ridiculous," she said in a bossy voice, lifting her chin up to regard him down her nose – which never ever worked, considering he was well over a head and a half taller than her.

"You're the one being ridiculous! I know it's there, so what's there to hide?"

He reached around her to take it, but she squealed and backed up, tripping over the seat and grabbing onto him for support. He steadied her with a bemused look on his face, and she wrestled out of his grasp and grabbed the neatly wrapped gift from under the pillow before he could get to it.

"I decided I'm going to change it," she declared, backing away towards where everyone was seated and watching their exchange like the two of them were the night's entertainment. He had long since gotten over the embarrassment – especially since the way his father's face pinched together and the way he went rigid, like someone had cast a full body bind on him while he was eating something detestably sour, was quite hilarious.

"That's not allowed," he argued, slowly making his way towards her and matching his pace to hers.

"Says who?" she demanded, now backing towards the wall. If this had been chess, she would be checkmated in two moves.

"Me! Come on, give it to me!"

"No!"

"It's mine!"

"No it's not! I'm not giving it to you so it's mine!"

"That's cheating!"

"I don't care!" she yelled, glancing behind her as though just realising that she'd gotten herself cornered.

"Do you honestly think you can beat me if I wrestled it away from you?"

She frowned, as though debating whether or not the threat was real. Behind them, her family was laughing and cheering and yelling for her to just hand the gift over to him.

"See? They think I deserve it, too," he said, gesturing to the others.

"So what?" She pouted, finally having realised that she was out of options.

"Don't make me snatch it from you," he warned, taking a step closer. She backed up against the wall until she was standing on her tiptoes. She puckered her mouth in a determined expression, and he lunged, twisting her around and grabbing the present easily even as she screamed and tried to get it back.

"Give it back! It's mine!"

"Not anymore!" he sang, ripping the wrapping, his curiosity to see what was making her want to so vehemently refuse to give it to him, taking the better of him.

He stared at the hardbound cover in confusion, wracking his brain to remember where he'd seen it, as Rose said, "No! It's not good enough!"

Suddenly realising, he tilted the book and read the gold lettering on the spine. Jane Eyre—by Charlotte Bronte.

He stared at her wide-eyed, rooted to the spot in shock. Their audience had gone quiet, waiting to see how he would react.

"Give it back," she sniffed, holding the other side of the book and looking close to tears.

"No! Why? It's mine now!" he retorted, still unable to wrap his mind completely around the entirety of it all.

"No, it's mine!" she cried, trying to pry it from his grasp.

"Rose, this is your favorite book," he said softly, and she paused, looking up at him with angry eyes filled with unshed tears.

"It's an old, tattered book that I happened to find in a pile of books my mum was going to give away when I was eight, and I've read it a thousand times, and there are stains on the pages from when Hugo accidentally spilled a pot of ink on it and dad, a mug of tea, and the spine is bent from all the times I left it facedown on the table, and oh, please just give it back," she said in a rush, bouncing on the spot.

"No!" he repeated pulling the book away from her and keeping it at arm's reach. "I want it!"

"You—what?" she looked at him as though he was mad, like she was trying to gauge whether or not it was a joke gone too far. But he was sure his expression was nothing but earnest, because he really and truly wanted the book. To think that she would want to trust him with one of her most prized possessions was something so unbelievable, that his own gift seemed almost worthless in comparison.

He shook his head and reaching forwards, kissed her softly. There were murmurs from their families, but he could have cared less. When she pulled away, he looked into her confused and anxious eyes and tried to covey to her how much what she had done meant to him.

"Thank you," he breathed, his chest suddenly feeling constricted from the lump in his throat. "Thank you," he said again, because he didn't know what else to say.

She didn't look like she understood why he liked his gift so much, but he reached down and took her hand, jingling the bracelet on her wrist.

"I mean it," he said and smiled at her, hoping she somehow understood that he wasn't just pulling a fast one over her.

She finally smiled and nodded. "OK."

"OK," he said, suddenly awkward now that all the adrenaline rush had worn out.

They cleared their throats awkwardly and stood there, looking anywhere but at each other, until Hermione clapped her hands and said, "Alright, then! Let's get all the others and open them, shall we?"

There was a combined murmur of assent as someone Summoned the gifts from under both trees and piled them atop the table. Ron made the armchairs waddle over so Rose and Scorpius had places to sit, and the mood instantly changed to one of excitement as the gift opening began. He concentrated on peeling the Spello Tape off the side of his present in a daze, his heart racing in his chest as his mind kept returning to the worn, brown book on his lap.

He couldn't wait to read it.

She sat with her heart hammering against her ribs, feeling unbelievably hot all of a sudden. As soon as the gift opening was over, Scorpius had excused himself to go cool his head, and she sat staring at the glass table now strewn with torn wrapping paper.

"May I see what he got you?" Astoria asked from across from her, and she jerked her head up to stare wide-eyed at the older woman. Astoria simply raised her hand and said, "He was desperate to find exactly a particular kind of ornament and wouldn't have it any other way."

Rose nodded, knowing she couldn't actually say no to the request. She raised her hand with the bracelet and chewed on the inside of her cheek as everyone – including Draco and Narcissa – craned their necks to get a better look at it.

"Haven't you had that for a long time, now?" Hugo asked from next to her, squinting as he tried to see the tiny charms hanging from the silver bracelet.

"He gave it to me in our second year," she said in a soft voice, her face burning from the confession she was just about to make. "I told him I couldn't accept something so nice because—we'd just become friends and well—it was just awkward, I guess, but he promised that he would only give me a charm as a present every Christmas so I could take it."

She caressed the small silver rose he had given her along with the bracelet and couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face.

"The first one was a single rose—which was why he was insistent on me taking the bracelet. He said he had no use for it."

"I remember him asking about it all those years ago," Astoria said tenderly, "and now I know why."

"In our third year he gave me a snowflake because that was when we were allowed to go to Hogsmeade," she continued and Ron shifted on the couch– probably from the memory the Hogsmeade trip brought forth.

"In fourth year he gave me this book," she said, fondling the tiny silver book charm and scrunching her nose. Although she had demanded why he would give her that since it reminded her of the horrible incident with Hanners, he only said that the book reminded him of the library, which was their favorite place to spend their free time, and also where they kissed for the first time.

"And last year—although he didn't give it to me during Christmas—he gave me this—" she broke off abruptly, covering the bracelet with her free hand and turning a furious shade of red. She knew they'd seen the tiny heart, though, so there wasn't any actual point to her trying to hide it.

"And this year?" Hermione asked, her eyes gleaming with the same unabashed curiosity that she always got when she genuinely wanted to know more and nothing else.

Rose cleared her throat and raised her wrist again, carefully covering the other charms with her hand and holding the single crystal rose in her palm. Everyone eyed it for so long, her arm began to hurt. Hermione was finally the first to speak.

"Is that—"

"A white rose."

Rose looked up to see Scorpius leaning against the door leading into the sitting room, his hands in his pockets and a smile playing on his face. He caught her eyes and his smile widened, automatically causing her to do the same.

"Where did you get these charms?" Hermione asked Scorpius without looking up as she inspected each of the tiny silver pieces.

Scorpius rubbed the back of his neck and said, "I made them."

Everyone's heads snapped up to stare at him and he shifted uncomfortably, scratching his ear.

"You made them?"

Scorpius turned to Hugo and nodded.

"How?" her brother demanded, snatching her hand from Hermione to examine the charms himself. "These are so little and detailed and look nothing like an amateur's work."

"I'm pretty skilled with my hands," he answered with a hint of something in his voice. Rose looked up to catch his gaze, and he grinned cheekily and winked at her. She dropped her gaze, her entire body flushing.

"And this crystal one?" Hugo continued, not having noticed the exchange that had occurred over his head.

"Ah, that one was a little harder. I couldn't find a crystal and carve it on such short notice, so I got Mother to find me a crystal rose ornament and then shrink it for me. I only carved out the initials on it," he said, motioning with his finger.

"What initials?" Hugo demanded, but Rose snatched her hand away and squinted at the small charm. She could barely make out the tiny facets in the stone, let alone anything carved into it.

Scorpius walked around to where she sat and pulled her up. "Come here," he said, moving her towards the window where the first rays of dawn were breaking across the horizon. He held her hand up and stilled the swiveling charm so it was parallel to the window. Not knowing what she was looking for, she peered at it, but Scorpius caught her by the shoulder and positioned her so she was standing with her hand stretched out in front of her.

"Here, do you see?" he asked as the light caught the clear crystal and shone through it, illuminating the flat surfaces and casting shadows on the beveled ones. She focused, intent on spotting whatever he could see, and she frowned, unable to find what it was. There were mixed exclamations from behind her and she raised her head, curiosity getting the better of her, and her breath caught as she finally understood.

On the wall directly opposite the window was a large reflection of the tiny rose, every highlight and shadow as clear as though it was painted across it. And on the biggest of the miniscule petals that was projected on the wall were even tinier scratches forming the letters S and R. Because of how small the charm itself was, it was impossible to see it if you tried to look at it directly, but with the reflection, it became clear.

She turned to stare at Scorpius, tears prickling her eyes as he looked at her with the same uncertainty and anxiety. She didn't understand why he would feel so nervous about something that he had put so much thought and effort into—and even if it wasn't as grand or meaningful, anything that he put thought into and got just for her would make her immeasurably happy.

She shook her head and laughed breathlessly, looking at him with the same feeling of overwhelming emotion that she had felt when she had seen him after he had been rescued.

"I love you," she whispered, her tears spilling down her cheeks, and his expression changed to one so tender and affectionate, that it overwhelmed her all over again. He drew her to him and kissed her softly, and she could feel his love and gratitude through the simple kiss.

"Thank you," she whispered again, and he pulled her against his chest, resting his chin atop her head.

"It's not just for you, you know," he murmured after a moment, and she pulled back to look up at him curiously. He caught her bracelet and fingered the charms and said, "They're as much a reminder for me of all the moments we've spent together as they are for you. Just like your favorite book is as important to me as it is to you."

He brought her wrist up to kiss her bracelet, and she smiled at him through her tears.

"You are so soppy," she laughed, and he made a face.

"And you love every bit of it, don't you?" he retorted, and she laughed again, leaning back in his arms and letting the warmth of the first rays of the sun wash over her. This moment, with Scorpius, with their families, with everything that had happened and would happen; it was perfection. And when she answered him, it was an answer to all his unvoiced doubts and questions in the simple two words.

"I do."

A/n: I didn't really change anything from what I'd initially written, just a few grammar stuff, so yeah. Opinions and the like would be very welcome! I plan on re-editing this story once I complete it, but that's not gonna be any time soon, but I'll take any concrit into consideration, so it would be really helpful.

Thank you so much for being so patient, and a special thanks to a guest reviewer who gave me the impetus to get down to finishing this.

P.S. sorry if this was super mushy, I'm an extreme romantic, if y'all haven't figured that out by now xD Also, I'm finishing up the next chapter as this is being updated, so hopefully I can update this weekend and finish this up soon.

Lots of love~

Arty xx