AN: Sooooo this was just gunna be a nice little snippet to finish off the quadrilogy, all fluffy and stuff. And then I went and wrote 8000 words of angsty-ish stuff instead. Whoops. Sorry on the delay, my health has been playing up again, and I honestly wasn't sure which direction I wanted to take a lot of this in, so it took longer to put together than the rest of it. But here it is, done and dusted. Hope you like it.

Alternative title for this chapter is 'In which every plan fails'.

Disclaimer: as with every chapter beforehand, these characters do not belong to me. I just like to borrow them and take them on adventures.

Declaration 4: The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing But The Truth in the Change Rooms.

Scorpius Malfoy would like it noted that he had a plan, and it was a damn good plan too.

Unfortunately, 'had' was the operative word.

His (most recent) plan had included the respectful and romantic wooing of Rose, just as she deserved. He had a speech prepared for her after the match, wherein he would confess to her that he felt their rivalry had evolved into something more, and he was pretty damn sure she knew that too, and that he would very much like to take her to dinner to see how else their rivalry/relationship/thing could continue to evolve. From there, Scorpius had planned to cook her dinner, take her out dancing, spend endless nights talking until sunrise, fly through the city at dawn, do anything he could just to see her smile or laugh. He had thoroughly planned out each of his moves and had put together a, quite frankly, brilliant scheme to make her his. Admittedly he didn't think it would take too much convincing, after all, she'd kind of told him she loved him a few times; surely she'd be willing to go on at least one date.

So yes, Scorpius had had a plan. And nowhere in said plan did it include kissing Rose in the middle of a Quidditch pitch surrounded by thousands of fans.

Knowing this, Scorpius is left wondering just how, precisely, he had managed to get himself into a situation wherein that was exactly what he was doing. In the briefest of brief moments he had until he lost all ability to think clearly because excuse me but he was kissing Rose Weasley who came back from the dead not two months ago, Scorpius tried to identify when his plan had gone so horribly wrong.

The first time the plan took a turn for the worse was when he had failed at step one. Step one had been very simple and very strict – it was a promise he had made to himself that as soon as Rose woke up (because she was going to wake up dammit, no matter what the looks on the doctors' faces insinuated) he was going to tell her he loved her. He thought she probably knew, after all they had kissed right in front of everyone just moments before heading out on the field. Even if she apparently hadn't woken up to the fact until that very conversation in the hallway beforehand, surely now she knew.

Regardless, Scorpius was going to tell her, very simply, that he loved her and he thought they should be together and also she was never allowed to play Quidditch again because holy fuck she almost died.

But then Rose woke up, and before he had the opportunity to kiss her senseless and wrap her up in his arms and protect her for forever, he found out she'd forgotten. About everything.

She didn't remember the hit. She didn't remember flying onto the pitch. She didn't remember her speech. And she definitely didn't remember their conversation in the hallway or kissing him in front of their team.

She remembered nothing.

So he said nothing.

Rose had been coming to grips of losing her memory, not to mention all her other injuries, and it would have been entirely selfish of him to go ahead and add the burden of his desires to her plate of worries. And Scorpius didn't want to burden her.

(He had heard a voice in his head not entirely unlike Maurice's that had called him a coward. He ignored that voice).

So Step One hadn't gone to plan. And with Step One not going ahead, Steps Two through to Four couldn't go ahead either. He would have to go to Plan B. And step one of Plan B was to work out what the fuck Plan B was. All it seemed to involve right now was fleeing The Krum Facility as soon as physically possible before he had a heart attack (which, now he thought about it, was quite unwise, because if there was any place he was likely to survive a heart attack, it was probably The Krum Facility).

So Scorpius had owled her parents, told them simply that she had woken up, and then flooed home without a second thought, the feel of her clammy hand in his own tattooed on his skin.

He would plan, he told himself as he stripped off his Quidditch robes and took very labored steps towards his bedroom. He would plan and he would woo and he would do his best to prove to Rose that he loved her. Just as soon as he had some decent sleep.

The following morning as he brooded over coffee, Scorpius realised that he had never actually wooed a woman with the intention of keeping her before.

(Keeping her? She's not a stray mutt you insensitive dunce! Mental note: be more respectful)

Scorpius' experience in pursuing a woman usually started at a bar and finished the following morning. He wasn't exactly one for 'long term engagement' with females of any description. He had a fleeting thought of asking his father how he had gone about courting his mother, but then realized that conversation would probably be more painful than pulling teeth so he decided against it. Scorpius never seriously considered asking his mother her opinion; if he did he would have to explain why he was asking and who he wanted to court and then he would be forced in to the very difficult predicament of attempting to keep his mother out of his romantic affairs, a feat he knew very well he was ill-equipped to handle.

Scorpius then entertained the idea of casually dropping it into conversation with the lads that he wanted to ask a girl out and get ideas for how they had managed to snag themselves girlfriends in the past. This plan was quickly shot to hell when he realized that his friends, much like himself, were full-time bachelors and therefore wouldn't have a fucking clue what to do, much like himself.

So he was on his own, a lone wolf trying to catch his mate.

Ok seriously, enough with the canine metaphors.

He didn't think it appropriate to just appear on her doorstep and ask her out, and given that they were no longer training together on the English team it left him with few opportunities to casually interact with Rose. They were technically rivals again now that the World Cup had ended, so they didn't really cross paths very often unless it was at press gatherings and the like.

(On an unrelated note, Scorpius tried to think about the World Cup final as little as possible, which proved difficult seeing as he was being brought before the tribunal to respond to 'unsporting and endangering play' allegations made by Valentino. Scorpius thought the Italian was damn lucky he'd only walked away with a few broken bones and a dislocated shoulder. He was conscious – unlike Rose – so he got off lightly as far as Scorpius was concerned)

Scorpius decided that the best way to contact Rose was via owl. That would be nice wouldn't it? A bit old fashioned – and a little reminiscent of passing notes at Hogwarts – but it was charming. At least that's what he told himself. So Scorpius sat at his desk, pulled out a quill and wrote the first thing that came to his head.

Which was, evidently, sweet fuck all.

Scorpius couldn't even think of how to start the damn letter let alone tell her how he felt. He fell back into his Hogwarts mentality when he had to write those painful History of Magic essays, and decided to just start writing and hope for the best.

He decided to stick to what he knew worked – team gatherings. After all, that was how she (consciously) arrived at his apartment last time.

Attempt one:

Hey Captain,

The team are coming around for dinner and drinks on Tuesday, if you're feeling well enough it would be great if you could come along too.

Hope to see you there,

Scorpius.

No, no, no. Too much room for error. What if she asked one of their teammates to go along together and then they professed to know nothing of any supposed dinner and drinks? Then he'd have to confess he was planning to lure her to his apartment under false pretenses in the hopes of eventually getting her to date him.

Which kind of sounded exactly like a felony now that he thought about it.

He considered actually inviting the team to dinner and drinks, but upon remembering how shit-faced they all got when they last invaded his home, Scorpius couldn't trust that one of them (read: Maurice) wouldn't mention something they shouldn't, like Scorpius and Rose's very public display of affection before the final.

Scorpius scrunched the paper in his fist and dropped it into the waste bin beside his desk.

Attempt two didn't fare much better.

Attempt Two:

Dear Rosie,

I watched you die. It scared the pants off me. Therefore you owe me pants, but I'll settle for dinner.

Cheers,

Malfoy.

Scorpius scowled at himself. How very eloquent. Goodness his mother would be appalled. No, no, no, Rose deserved something grander. Something more fitting of the Malfoy reputation. Heaven knows he'd received his fair share of dinner party invitations (thanks in no small part to his "dearest" Aunt Daphne who liked to show him off like some trophy in front of her friends. "My nephew – the famous Quidditch star", she'd say, never mind the fact that she'd basically been unable to remember his name until he made the major leagues), surely he could muster something a little more suitable.

In fact he could even use one of his mother's old invitations as a template.

Work smarter, not harder.

Setting his mother's invitation (which reminded him that he had to go to brunch with mother's friends and spawn this Sunday. That sounded just as much fun as being slow-roasted by a Hungarian Horntail) beside his own piece of parchment, Scorpius wrote out his third attempt at inviting Rose to dinner.

Attempt Three:

The Master of the Household has received Master Scorpius Malfoy's command to invite

Miss Rose Weasley

To dinner at

It wasn't even finished and Scorpius had already put down his quill and thrown out the piece of paper. It was too grand. This wasn't one of his mother's garden parties, not to mention the fact that he didn't have a 'Master of the Household' like his parents did. Rose would read it and think it was all a joke and turn him down quite spectacularly he was sure. He needed something more casual. Pulling out another piece of parchment he tried again.

Attempt Four:

Rose,

Let's cut this bullshit; my bed is big enough for the two of us. Let's just put everyone out of their misery and become a couple already.

Your future lover,

Scorpius Malfoy

WHY WAS THIS SO DIFFICULT?! He highly doubted Rose would take very kindly to only receiving an invitation to dinner for the sake of everyone else's sanity. Way to make a girl feel wanted, Malfoy. And there isn't actually any mention of dinner in there at all. Just bed. Smooth.

He was sorely tempted to poke himself in the eye for his insolence.

Then he wouldn't be able to writer any more letter. Which might be a good thing.

No! Stay on target!

Attempt 5:

Rosie,

I love you, let's get nachos

Malfoy xo

Oh Merlin that was even worse. Although Rose does love nachos…no. She deserved more than that. And maybe just coming right out and starting with those three big words was perhaps not a great move.

Jesus why was this so hard. Just tell her the truth. Tell her how you feel. Surely it shouldn't be that difficult.

Scorpius decided that perhaps he would find this whole thing easier if he had some of Ogden's finest in his system (Merlin knows Rose seemed to find it easier to confess her undying love to him when she was plastered – maybe it would work for him too). After downing a (arguably too large) glass of Firewhiskey, he tried again.

Attempt Six:

Rose,

I dream of you most every night, imagine you lying amongst my sheets, how you would feel held against me, moving under me. I imagine myself on my knees before you, begging to let me be yours in every possible sense. My every waking moment is plagued with visions your face, your eyes, your laugh. Please put me out of my misery and consent to accompany me to dinner.

With all my heart,

Your Scorpius

He read it once. He read it twice. He cringed very hard both times. Yes, Rose had kissed him, but that absolutely did not mean that she was ready to read about him thinking about fucking her. That is not how you ask a woman out Scorpius, especially not one you love. Tone down the horny.

Attempt Seven:

My Dearest Rosie,

I think we're a great team, but not like a Quidditch team, more like a duo; just the two of us, kicking ass and having fun. I think that's great. I think you're great. And I think you make me great. So how's about we see if we're great at dating too? I'll even try cooking.

Much Love,

Scorpius.

That was about the best he had managed so far. Dear Merlin! That was seriously the best he had managed. Why was asking out a girl so hard? He'd done it plenty of times before. Not that asking a casual acquaintance back to his place for a casual screw really counted. But still! He had asked out a girl or two in his time. Granted, that was when 'going out' meant going to Hogsmede together, but oh god how was he supposed to do this?! If he was going to do this he was going to do it right. And nothing that he had tried so far had been anywhere near right. Ok, just say exactly what you feel. But make it sound fancy. He was a prodigy at bullshitting; surely it shouldn't be too hard.

Attempt Eight:

Dear Rose,

Would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?

HOLY SHIT BACK THE FUCK UP! WHERE THE FUCK DID THAT COME FROM?!

Scorpius Malfoy puts down his quill and decides that perhaps it is better if he just asked her in person, as he clearly wasn't good with the written word. He disposed of all his failed attempts in the nearest trashcan and poured himself a stiff drink. Heavens knows he needed it.

Scorpius knew they had the last match of the season against Rose's Harpies coming up in about 3 weeks. That would be the perfect time to ask her. He'd wait until after the match, congratulate her on the game, and ask her out for a drink sometime in the near future. Because he would like to get to know her better. And also because they had been through a lot during the World Cup. And also he was in love with her.

He poured himself another drink. It was going to be a long three weeks.

It was maybe a week and a half later when he hit the next hurdle in the form of a seven-foot giant who almost broke down his door. The Giant wasn't exactly subtle about his intentions.

"So what are you waiting for?" Maurice boomed the second Scorpius opened the door to him. The man-mountain walked straight past him and into his house. Scorpius stayed at the door and made note of having a polite conversation with himself.

"Hello Maurice, I'm well thank you for asking, yourself? Oh that's good. Please come inside"

As he closed the door, Scorpius looked at his previous teammate irritably but was met with little more than disdain from the huge man occupying most of the space in his living room. They face off silently across the room for several moments, each waiting for the other to speak first.

Scorpius, the stubborn ass, knew he has this game won. And win he does after barely 15 seconds.

"Well?!" Maurice demanded, clearly unhappy with him for reasons Scorpius couldn't identify. Or, more appropriately, refused to identify.

"Well what?" Scorpius retorted and tried his best not to sound like a sullen child.

"What are you waiting for?" Maurice demanded, growing more impatient. Scorpius hadn't the foggiest idea why – surely if anyone had the right to be acting indignantly it was the person whose house had been invaded by a shouty giant (i.e.: Scorpius).

"Currently? I'm waiting for you to explain just what in the name of Merlin you're talking about?" Scorpius felt his usual calm exterior slipping to reveal what was undoubtedly the impact of having to reconcile the fact that Rose technically died and he technically watched and hadn't been able to save her.

Yeah, let's not think about that.

"Rose!" Maurice shouted as if it was obvious, "What the hell are you doing about Rose?"

Scorpius crossed his arms and ignored Maurice, pointedly looking at his finger nails coolly, "I'm not sure what you mean."

He received a scoff in response.

"What I mean is that I have just visited Rose and when I asked about the two of you she looked at me like I'd grown a second head."

Scorpius tried to mimic the expression to Maurice then, just to piss him off. If the loud exhale through his nose was anything to go by, Scorpius would guess he'd succeeded.

"Do not test me, Malfoy," the much larger man said through gritted teeth, staring him down relentlessly, "Now what the fuck are you doing?"

"If I was doing anything – and that isn't to say that I am – but if I was, I would have absolutely no compulsion to tell you about it."

"Oh just cut the bullshit," it occurred to Scorpius that he's not sure he'd ever seen Maurice so fired up off a Quidditch pitch. He started trying to remember his Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons about what to do when confronted by a troll. Maurice was basically the same build as a troll, maybe those tactics would work.

Maurice continued. "Rose has been through a lot, she doesn't need to deal with this as well."

"What, my not being a nuisance?" Scorpius interjected sarcastically. Maurice pointedly ignored his comment.

"And look, to be perfectly honest with you, before we all played together for the World Cup, I would have said she could do a damn lot better than you."

Scorpius scowled, "No please, don't bother trying to protect my feelings…"

"Don't give me that," Maurice brushed it off as easily as he would a fly, "I always just thought you were an arrogant sod –"

"The feeling is mutual." Now he's just being catty for the sake of it. And no one can stop him.

"-But you've proven me wrong," the honest compliment threw him. His inner Slytherin scoffed, This isn't how arguments work, Maurice, "You're a good guy, Scorp, and I want the best for you. But I swear to Merlin, if you keep up this sulky child bullshit than I will stop being your wingman and start pushing her towards other, less stubborn guys."

Back in argument territory. Excellent!

"Wingman?" Scorpius questioned with a sassy raised eyebrow, "Since when have you ever been my wingman?"

"Oh when have I not been your wingman for Rose?" Maurice crossed his giant arms, and Scorpius was suddenly reminded how abnormally large his biceps are. Maybe the troll spells wouldn't work – he's never seen a troll that buff.

"Literally always," He deadpanned.

"Thank you."

"…That wasn't a compliment," Scorpius clarified.

Maurice looked confused. "You said I was literally always your wingman."

"No, I said you were literally always never my wingman. Meaning you've never been my wingman," sassy eyebrow flew skyward once more, "Grammar isn't exactly you're strong suit is it, Maurice?"

"No, but bench presses are – you wanna continue going down this path or are you happy with taking the conversation back to it's origins?"

Scorpius did not look like a petulant child. He didn't. No matter what Maurice's disapproving eye roll suggested.

He sniffed, "I would prefer to have this conversation terminated as soon as possible, actually."

"You don't have the luxury of calling the shots," Maurice fired back, unrepentant, "You lost that right when you decided to sit on your ass and do precisely sweet fuck all since leaving the hospital."

"That's not true!" Scorpius defended quickly (too quickly, now he knows you're lying you twat), "I've done things."

"Things?" Maurice smiled at him, flashing his bright white teeth as a gleam Scorpius didn't like the look of lit up his eyes. The giant opposite him stretched his arms wide in a deceptively welcoming manner, "Please, enlighten me with your progress."

Scorpius shifted uneasily and tried to decide whether he would be in a better or worse position if he punched his friend right in his mouth. The inevitable hospitalisation that would result from Maurice's retaliation might just be worth it if it meant that he didn't have to continue this conversation.

Scorpius knew his friend too well though – he was relentless in all areas of his life, not just Quidditch. Scorpius could see himself awakening from a coma to find Maurice sitting by his bedside ready to pick up where they left it.

(Scorpius didn't like to dwell on thoughts of hospital beds and comas. It made his stomach drop and often resulted in him feeling as if he needed to vomit, the sound of bones breaking filling his ears)

"I don't have to justify myself to you."

"No, you don't," Maurice settled himself on the arm of Scorpius' couch (which he hated, but never mind that you great big oaf) and looked entirely too pleased with himself, "But if you don't then you're basically admitting you ain't done shit."

Ain't done shit. Scorpius sometimes simply had to stop and marvel at the depths to which the English language had fallen.

Now was not the time for marvelling, however, as he was far too concerned with preventing himself from sprouting something stupid in retaliation.

"I've written her letters."

You utter prat.

"Oh right," Maurice laughed sarcastically, "You've written her letters."

As the silence stretched out the thickness of the atmosphere rose, and Maurice came to the stark realization that Scorpius was not, in fact, lying. Scorpius could see the exact moment he came to the conclusion, watching his features fall in equal parts horror and pity.

Scorpius was sorely tempted to stab himself in the eye.

"Dear Merlin you've actually written her letters, haven't you?"

"I'd rather like it if you'd just leave-"

"OH FOR MERLIN'S SAKE – JUST TALK TO HER!"

"It's not that easy!" Scorpius fired back loudly, wishing to any and every heavenly body around that he could simply seep into the floorboards and disappear.

"Are you kidding? Rose is one of the easiest people to talk to I've ever met! You can charm strangers with a wink; just do the same thing with Rose!"

"I can't…" Scorpius tried to breathe to relax himself. It was largely unsuccessful.

"Why not?"

And then the ugly truth spewed out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"Because she's not a stranger!" Scorpius exclaimed, "She's Rose fucking Weasley! She's England's best Quidditch player, and she's incredible, and she's beautiful, and she's scary as hell! I can't just talk to her."

"Of course you can! You've done it all season – what's different now?"

"Everything! Everything is different now!"

"You're not making sense!" Maurice exclaimed, fed up with the whole thing (which made two of them), "It's just you and Rose, and…"

Scorpius interrupted, defensive and angry. "No it's not! This isn't just Rose rocking up on my doorstep at 3am to tell me she loves me –"

"Whoa! When did-"

"And it's not just me telling her I love her in some corridor somewhere –"

"Ok just hold the fuck up!" Maurice interjected; his hands outstretched signaling Scorpius to stop. Which was probably for the best; before he said something he'd regret.

Correction: something else he'd regret.

"Rose has told you she loves you?"

Scorpius shifted uncomfortably. Those moments were private; he didn't want to go sharing them with anyone. Hell, even Rose didn't completely remember them and she'd been there; it hardly seemed fair to share it with anyone else.

"Kind of," Scorpius shrugged and shifts again, "But only those few times when she was really drunk…"

Maurice ignored his murmuring, "And you've told her you love her?"

"Well, not explicitly like that, but it was implied…"

"MERLIN'S SAGGY RIGHT TESTICLE WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

And that was just about as much as Scorpius could take.

"SHE DOESN'T REMEMBER!" Scorpius yelled, giving into the very strong urge to act like a two year old by stomping his foot in frustration (at Maurice not listening to him, or to Rose not remembering, or at himself for not being able to write a bloody letter, or a combination of the three he's not entirely sure), "She never remembers. She tells me she loves me, then she wakes up and hates me again. It happens when she's drunk, then it happens when she gets hit in the head by a bloody bludger. And I don't want to risk starting something only for her to forget or change her mind, because it's exhausting and humiliating and painful every time it happens. And you know what? I quite enjoy avoiding pain – I'd class it as a top hobby of mine! And trying to ask Rose on a date, though it may seem obvious and straightforward to an outsider, is a damn lot more complicated in reality. Because it could be painful, because I love her, and I will not risk fucking this up and making her walk away from me because it's going to hurt too fucking much! I almost lost her once because she almost fucking died and I refuse to lose her again!"

By the time Scorpius had finished yelling he felt a lot like a balloon that's just burst and spent the last 5 minutes wildly flailing around the room, only to deflate and fall on the floor in a rubbery heap. He was exhausted, a weight lifted from his shoulders only to leave him with a feeling of hopelessness and dread. He'd voiced it all now, which meant that it's real. And he much preferred it when he could keep things that involved emotions and whatnot locked safely inside away from prying eyes, so he can pretend they don't exist.

He wondered idly if his neighbours heard his little outburst. He wasn't sure his silencing charms were that good.

When Scorpius finally worked up the courage to face his friend (although he was seriously reconsidering calling Maurice that), he was met with big sympathetic brown eyes that he honestly had no time for. He watched, anticipating his opponent's next move, as Maurice rose from his spot on the couch armrest and straightened out his shirt.

"I get it," Scorpius doesn't think he gets it, "You're scared. But you can't let that hold you back."

Scorpius believes that he can, absolutely, let that hold him back.

"Because the scariest things often lead to the happiest outcomes."

Except, you know, scary things like fighting a rabid dragon, or jumping off a cliff, or slow dancing with a Dementor. All of which, Scorpius is quite sure, result in hideous painful death.

Maurice walked over to him, patted him on the shoulder in a manner Scorpius was sure wasn't meant to feel condescending but does all the same, and shook his head.

"She hasn't forgotten that morning in the hospital," Maurice said as he walked to the door, "And neither have I. I remember the kiss before the final, and how you two looked at each other before I walked in at the hospital."

Yes, and totally ruined the moment you colossal dickweed.

"It's real, Scorp," goddam he hated when people called him that, "The way she looks at you. And it means something. But if you keep sitting here, writing letters you never send, she's gunna try and move on and she'll leave you behind. And that will really hurt because you'll know she would have stayed if you'd just asked her to."

Maurice turned back and looked at Scorpius as he was half way out the door, the sunlight framing him in a deceptively angelic light for someone who'd just made his morning hell.

"Just promise me you'll at least ask her to dinner."

Scorpius picked at his nail again. "I don't see why I should have to promise you anyth-"

"Scorp…"

"Fine! I'll ask her," he kicked at nothing in particular on his floor, "After the Harpies match."

Maurice let out a disapproving murmur.

"That way if she says no I won't have to see her for the entire offseason."

Maurice didn't seem to agree with him completely, but recognized a victory when he had it. He nodded, seemingly accepting this arrangement, and walked out the door without so much of a 'good-bye'. Scorpius supposed it was fitting seeing as he never actually said 'hello' either. He just kind of appeared at his doorstep, spent half an hour yelling at him, then disappeared. Like some weird, aggressive, time-poor ghost.

Scorpius returned to his writing desk, looked at the trash can filled with all his failed attempts, and reconciles the fact that perhaps Maurice had a point; perhaps he was being a little bit cowardly about this whole thing. Maybe he just had to be brave.

Scorpius decided that his new plan has only one step –

Ask Rose to dinner after the Harpies match.

One step. It wasn't that hard. He could manage one step.

And if she said no he'd just run away to Latvia and never set foot in England again. That seemed like how a sane, well-adjusted adult would handle this situation.

So, he failed his one and only step. Spectacularly.

See, Scorpius hadn't planned on kissing her at all. Not yet anyway. But they were at Quidditch, and the last time they were on a field together he'd been the happiest he had ever been in his life because Merlin's hairy cock Rose Weasley fancied him, and then he almost collapsed because sweet holy fuck Rose Weasley almost died, and he simply forgot his one fancy new step, and instead gave into every urge in his body. All of which were telling him to kiss Rose Weasley.

So with a sarcastic quip and a flash of that muggle fairytale about Sleeping Beauty, Scorpius had dragged Rose forward, wrapped his arm around her waist, and kissed her senseless. Time slows down, his eyes close as he let's himself give into the wondrous feeling of holding Rose Weasley close. He feels her fall into him, her hand fisting in his robes then moving into his hair.

Yes, every fiber in his body breathes, this is it.

It takes him a moment to register the cheers and loud 'whooping' coming at him from all angles, and only then does he remember that he's supposed to be getting ready for a very important Quidditch match. So he lets her go, takes a step back and tries to remind himself that there are other matters at hand here. Of course that's somewhat difficult to do when she's looking at him all dazed and confused. He's sorely tempted to reach in again, to pull her close and hold her tight and continue kissing her and to never let her go. But not now, this has to wait. After the game, during which he can attempt to think up another genius plan to woo her seeing as he's already destroyed his most recent plan. Again.

He lets out a heavy sigh before murmuring, "A pleasure as always," and she's still looking at him like he's speaking elfish. In an attempt to see that fire back in her eyes, and to not let anyone who's close enough to hear think he's gone too soft, Scorpius adds, "Enjoy trying to focus on the game now," and does his best to mount his broom as elegantly as possible.

The snitch is released and the game is officially in motion. Scorpius grins the whole damn time.

"You!"

The post-match commiserations and murmuring stops suddenly and the room is eerily silent. Scorpius can feel it – her eyes on him, burning a hole into the back of his skull. He turns slowly, smirk fixed in place.

"Weasley," he says, failing quite spectacularly at not sounding arrogant (but he wasn't really trying that hard, she liked him that way apparently), "Come to accost me in the change rooms for another romantic rendezvous?"

Her face is as red as her hair and he knows its not from exertion – it is pure rage.

And damn him to hell he's never been more attracted to her in his entire life.

He sees her chest rising and falling with every breath she takes. Her right eye seems to twitch a little and she grits her teeth. It's only now that he stops to take her in that he realizes she's still dressed in her uniform, obviously being too angry to get changed. Scorpius imagines that she's spent the past 20 or so minutes since the game ended pacing the change rooms angrily flailing her arms and yelling things like 'who does he think he is?!' Which is only slightly (read: very) gratifying.

"You snake," she spits the word so vehemently that Scorpius swears she could have literally spat venom at him had she tried just a bit harder, "You dirty, mother-fucking snake."

Rose advances slowly towards him with each word and his team suddenly feels the need to make themselves scarce, all deciding they were apparently ready to apparate the hell out of there, regardless of their various states of undress.

Way to leave your Captain hopeless and defenseless you scoundrels.

Scorpius and Rose find themselves alone in the Farmouth Falcons change rooms encased in an eerie silence that spoke of bad things to come for Scorpius. He mentally slaps himself for not having the foresight to assume she would get angry at him after his impromptu display of affection at the beginning of the match and keep his wand on him for safety. Although, from what he can tell, she doesn't appear to be armed either.

So apparently she's planning to just tear him limb of limb with her two bare hands. Just smashing.

"Slytherin," he swears he didn't consciously try to sound condescending, it just kind of came out that way, "You really shouldn't be surprised by certain 'snake-like' tendencies."

"Is this a fucking joke to you?!" And now she's screaming. Top Job Scorp, kick the hornet's nest a little harder next time, won't you? "Am I a fucking joke to you?!"

"No, why would you-"

"How dare you embarrass me in front of the entire Stadium?!"

"Embarrass?" don't smirk, don't smirk, don't smirk. Goddam there it goes, "Why Rosie, don't tell me you're afraid to show the world how you feel about me?"

Scorpius momentarily panics that he may actually force the love of his life to explode with shear rage.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Love of your life?! Get a hold of yourself man! It's not that serious!

(But it really is, actually)

Scorpius looks at where Rose stands, shaking with fury as she tries to find the words to convey what he imagines is a plethora of emotions. He knows the feeling well.

"Oh I'm not ashamed to tell anyone who I feel about you, YOU COLOSSAL WATSE OF SKIN!"

"Now, now, we both know you're quite fond of me and my skin."

"And what exactly made you come to that conclusion, you…you…shitfaced...rectal butler!"

Shitfaced rectal butler. She really outdid herself with that one. He'll have to remember it.

"Why are you angry at me, love?"

"TAKE A FUCKING GUESS!"

When did she get so close? Somehow she's managed to get herself so close she's barely four feet away. Almost within striking distance. He choses his next words carefully.

"Well I know you're mad that I kissed you –"

"YOU THINK?!"

Later, much later, when she no longer wants to rip him limb from limb, he's going to have to have a chat to Rose about speaking at an appropriate decibel level when in confined spaces that reverberate sounds such as, to take a completely random example, the Falcons' change rooms.

"But what I'm asking is why you're mad that I kissed you?"

"SERIOUSLY?! You need me to spell it out for you?!"

Scorpius stepped up to her, only noticing now just how much shorter then him she was. He smiles, stops himself from sweeping a stray hair behind her ear.

"Yes, tell me exactly why you're so upset."

She clamps her mouth shut, as if physically attempting to keep the words from escaping her mouth, her fists clenched at her side and her body shaking in what he assumes is inconsolable anger. Then, with a flash of something akin to hurt filling her eyes, Rose explodes.

"Because you've made me care about you and now you're using it against me!"

That was…

That was not what he was expecting.

Scorpius had expected her to be angry that he hadn't asked her out, that he'd gone around kissing her without making his intentions clear. He was prepared for that – she would yell at him about not being allowed to kiss her then walk away, and then he would conjure a bouquet and very charmingly confess that he wasn't walking away before asking her to dinner. He'd had it planned perfectly (he was pretty damned impressed with the plan actually, considering he'd made it up literally on the fly during the game).

And now here he was, faced with an angry, broken Rose Weasley who thought he was playing her like this was some kind of game. Scorpius comes to the very stark realization that Rose – Rose, who was supposed to be half-Hermione Granger and therefore have some kind of sense to her – was under the very false impression that he didn't care about her.

Well he'd just have to remedy that catastrophic misunderstanding as soon as possible.

And somehow the only thing he can think of to do is the very thing that brought her here in the first place.

When something hurts, you kiss it better. It's science.

Scorpius closes his eyes and pulls her forward and kisses her with all that he's worth. His hands dig into her hair and he holds her close, feels her body mold to his. He never wants to let her go, wants to keep her here like this forever. But things need to be said, important things. Which he'll say. In a minute.

Pulling away takes all the strength her never knew he had, and Scorpius realizes that Maurice was right – this is real. And that's terrifying. But you have to push through it.

"Do not make the mistake of thinking you are the only one who cares, Rose," he barely recognized his own voice it was raw and honest. He was sure that was a good thing though. Rose meets his gaze and tried to plaster on a brave smile (she fails rather badly at it but Merlin help him he thinks it's adorable).

"You don't expect me to believe Scorpius Malfoy actually has a heart, do you?"

The look she gives him is like she's almost begging him to prove her wrong. He can't quite believe it, that she still isn't sure.

It's not like I go around making grand romantic gestures for just anyone.

"You should know that better than most Rosie, after all," he smiles as he sees the hope light up in her eyes and he is struck once again by just how much he loves her, "I gave it to you long ago."

There's a moment, a tiny moment, after he speaks when everything's a little too serious. A little too tense. A little too suffocating. A little too true for his liking.

This is dangerous territory. You've fed her ammunition – she could destroy you.

And he suddenly wants to snatch back the words, wishes he hadn't let her hear them, because now she knows the truth. And the truth could tear him apart.

The endless rhetoric starts – there's a reason you don't do attachment, because it doesn't work out. Love is something meant for other people, not for a Malfoy, and certainly not with a Weasley – and he almost drowns in the thoughts he has fought so hard to hide.

It appears, however, that he and Rose are more alike than either of them likes to admit. For just as Scorpius had resorted to kissing her when he couldn't find the words, that's exactly what Rose does not a second after he's made his declaration.

She wraps her arms around his neck and melts into him, sealing her lips to his in what he imagines is her way of saying 'I love you too.' He's delirious, part of him not quite believing this is happening, but then he stops thinking and lets himself simply be with Rose Weasley.

Scorpius wraps a hand around her hips and pulls her forward, rocks against her as he struggles to remember to breathe. She gasps, something snapping inside her, as she pushes him back against the lockers. He spins her, hikes her up against the wall and settles himself between her thighs. Another sigh. He was never going to get sick of that sound.

Scorpius nips at her bottom lip, smiles when she jolts at the sensation, then feels all his blood rush south very quickly when she throws a leg over his hip and thrusts against him. He gets lost in the feeling, ruts against her gracelessly and kisses her madly, driven insane by the way her hands travel over inch of him they can reach. Gods he's waited so long for this. Through her telling him she loves him then hates him, and watching her die then come back to life. He wants this moment to be cemented in both their minds. Wants to make it so perfect that there is no way she is going to forget this – how perfect they feel, how right they are together, and how much he loves her. He needs her to remember this as long as she lives. He knows he will.

A sharp intake of breath through his nose brings him back to reality. He smells sweat and soap and leather and remembers that they are in the freaking locker room.

She deserves better than a mindless fuck against the lockers.

(But lets not rule that out in the future)

It takes every ounce of his strength for Scorpius to take hold of her wrists and remove them from his body, fixing them to the lockers with his grasp. He steps back a little, allowing air to move between them again.

"No Rose," he manages to breathe out, trying desperately to remind himself why it's a good idea to stop when she lets out a groan that he really wants to make her make again.

"Why?" she looks angry – frustrated – but Scorpius knows her better than that, and sees the little twinge of insecurity flitter through her expression. He takes it as his personal responsibility to erase that insecurity.

"Because," he squeezes her hands where he's pinned them to the locker behind her before stepping into her so there is no possible way that she doesn't get a good feel of how much he really wants this to continue. He takes much too much pleasure in the whimper she lets out in response, "I have dreamed about being with you for too long to let our first time be in a dirty, smelly change room."

And then he decides to start playing mean.

Scorpius drops his head to run his lips up her neck in a very slow ascent to her earlobe so he can whisper to her. He rolls his hips again – which elicits another sharp intake of breath – and says, "I am going to take you to my apartment."

He thrusts and she bites her lip in response, "I am going to strip every last article of clothing off you."

Scorpius places his thigh between her legs and sweet holy merlin she grinds against him. Seems he isn't the only one playing mean. "And then I am going to take my sweet time learning every inch of you when you're naked in my bed, before having you on every available surface."

He swears to Merlin she keens – keens – and rubs against him more deliberately. Once Rose opens her eyes, he's met with fire and he thanks whatever heavenly body there is in existence that's decided to bless him with Rose Weasley's affections.

"I haven't got all day Malfoy – what are you waiting for?"

Nothing. He wasn't waiting for anything at all.

And that is that! All done!

I was gunna add some smut at the end here, but then I decided it just kind of finished off nicely here. Besides, there was some more smut in 'Four Times…' so you can always go there to get a mini-fix if that's what you're after.

I hope you all enjoyed reading this, and I am so very sorry it took me so long to get this companion piece finished. Also, if anyone's interested I have written a bit of an interlude to go between chapter 3 and four of GRG, which goes through what Scorpius did and thought while he was at the hospital. If people are keen I'll upload it, I only really used it to get a grasp for how he would react in this chapter. Of course I'd have to finish it first, but I could probably make that happen.

Much love to any and all who are reading this. I wish you all peace, happiness, and safety in a world that has been filled with so much fear.

All my love,

Grae xo.