There were no options for Scorpius Malfoy that didn't end in his inevitable loneliness. He knew this now as he sat beneath a clear sky just meters from the crowded Burrow.

It was the third year of this makeshift tradition where the Potter family insisted Scorpius join them for Christmas. On holidays his own father forfeited emotion to instead focus on his work. Growing up watching this silent struggle meant that Scorpius couldn't fault his father for wanting to travel. He also couldn't blame his mother for accompanying her husband. Acknowledging and understanding all of this mollified the guilt Scorpius felt in never joining them. That wasn't where he wanted to spend his holidays — in hotels, busying himself with books and late night walks through foreign cities just to pass the time. In fact, he much preferred the Burrow; the love and laughter contained in the cozy home distracted him from the bouts of jealousy that would have otherwise plagued his thoughts.

This year it was particularly mild out, with only a light breeze tickling his concave cheeks as they took a steady drag of his current fag. The rolled paper disintegrated and as he tapped off the ash he exhaled upward, smiling at the serpent-shaped cloud of smoke he was able to procure. That too disappeared, reminding Scorpius that he was in fact alone. Maybe it would have been better to dismiss his craving. Giving in to his addiction meant accepting the silence and along with it the truth that this place was not his home and these people were not his true family. As he sat on a bench beside the Weasley's shed, Scorpius felt more like an outsider than any of his hosts probably would have guessed. He should have stayed inside — pretending.

Scorpius heard the crunching of snow beneath boot covered feet but he didn't search for the source of their sound. Albus knew better than to check on him and with the dropping temperatures it was highly unlikely anyone else would have a reason to be outside.

"Hey…"

He finally turned over his shoulder and could only let out an amused smirk as Rose Weasley approached him. The lemon-colored coat she wore clearly stated that she wasn't there to tell him they were finally serving pudding or opening gifts. Her kindness was deliberate, possibly even preplanned.

Rose had her hands shoved in her pockets causing her shoulders to raise upward as if to mimic the scarf she should have worn. Her hair fell away from her face in waves, wisps of it blowing in the same wind that now highlighted their shared silence. It wasn't awkward though, and Rose didn't seem to mind the way Scorpius continued to take her in as she sat down: mostly the tight jeans she wore and the faded leather boots they disappeared into. It was a far cry from the quidditch uniform or school robes he usually saw her in and she seemed more human somehow without a talent to hide behind.

Scorpius' gaze followed the curve of her legs upward until his eyes settled upon hers. Their stare remained for only a moment as if both were taking time to acknowledge all of this was real. Yes, Rose Weasley had gone out into the cold to simply sit with Scorpius Malfoy. It was an almost unheard of scenario considering the two were halfway through fifth year and, despite sharing a best friend, had always managed to avoid one another.

The cocky grin Scorpius gave did nothing to dampen Rose's sweet smile, one she wore even as she donated her glare to the melting snow below. Rose was known for being undeniably bold but something about the contrast between the party she'd left to the cold bench she now sat upon had her suddenly losing courage.

Scorpius only barely rolled his wand in his hand, slowing the burn of his cigarette. After taking another hit he switched the hand he held it in, hoping his bad habit would not push her away. He originally wanted to be alone and yet he found himself hoping she'd speak again. He needed more than just a simple greeting; Rose was the only girl that had ever rendered Scorpius speechless and in this instance he found himself particularly tongue-tied.

"Not a great way to thank my grandparents for their hospitality," Rose finally commented.

"Sorry," he scoffed out a laugh. "Didn't mean to be rude."

She nodded toward Scorpius' cigarette. "Also not the best habit."

"Ahhh," he almost hummed, "so you're here to criticize me then?"

"No. I just…" She sighed. "I saw you come out here and I felt bad. I didn't know you just needed a fag."

Scorpius smirked. It was clear this was going to be a give and take with them: his flippancy only encouraged her hesitation. "That's not why I came out here."

"No?" She paused. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Scorpius shook his head as he took another hit. "You don't have to feel bad for me." The way he spoke told her he was doing his best to hold on to the remnants of his most recent inhale.

"You haven't told me why you're out here so I have no reason to feel bad for you," Rose stated confidently.

"It's just different for me," Scorpius admitted. He looked over his shoulder toward the Burrow where inside silhouettes contrasted against the soft light the warm home radiated.

"What is?"

"This." He gestured. "The full house. The gifts."

"Are you telling me Scorpius Malfoy doesn't get gifts?" Rose let out in clear jest.

"I get gifts," he assured. "Not a Weasley jumper. Nothing personal. We just don't do...this," he explained, hoping she'd understand so he didn't have to elaborate.

Rose didn't ask that of him. In fact, the way she looked his way was so unassuming Scorpius softened, taking advantage of the moment to toss away his fag. The stick went up in a burst of smoke before it could even hit the ground.

Rose swallowed, as if to acknowledge the closeness caused by the absence of tobacco on his lips. "You'll have to show me sometime."

Her words were so shocking Scorpius had to lean back. He wasn't fond of the distance it put between them but he rather liked this view of her, especially as the night deepened the rouge of her cheeks, hiding her freckles. "You want to spend a holiday with my family?"

"Maybe," Rose shrugged. "But I suppose we'd have to be friends first."

"Friends?" Scorpius' eyes widened at the prospect.

"Friends," Rose agreed.

It was a challenge, not an offer and Scorpius knew this as Rose jumped down off the bench and walked away. The warmth she provided disappeared as well, leaving Scorpius to miss the flame of the cigarette he'd only just finished. He tossed back his head and rubbed at his eyes, inwardly laughing at their brief interaction. He was always so self assured, approaching girls with a confidence no other fifteen year old could even hope to have. Meanwhile everyone loved Rose and she was kind in return, always the first to offer help or stand up for what she believed in. But Rose made Scorpius nervous and he seemed to be the only person she was reluctant to befriend.

In an instant Scorpius realized he had different option. Unbeknownst to him, Rose Weasley was about to become a choice he was all too happy to make.