Chapter One of a Rose/Scorpius fic. I've never really liked the next generation but they're growing on me. The real reason I'm writing this is to get to where all th Weasley cousins figure out that Rose is dating a Malfoy. Anyway, happy reading.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, or anything to do with Harry Potter.

A smile played at his thin lips, dragging the corners of his mouth upwards reluctantly. Rose Weasley gave him a quick look of annoyance. Slughorn was still talking,

"-I think, Miss Weasley, that you and Scorpius will make an excellent pairing-"

"-But Al and I have always-"

"-Enough, Weasley!" He was smiling at her, "Mr Potter's only here because I invited him, he fits in well with the brilliance of you lot. He's an honorary Gryffindor-slash-Slytherin," Rose huffed and sat next to him, staring straight ahead. Potter turned in his seat and gave her a shrug. Scorpius liked the Weasleys, he'd heard stories from his great aunt about them and their part in the war. He knew his Dad didn't like them, or the Potters, because Harry Potter had helped him and his parents avoid Azkaban after the war. Rose was rolling her eyes every time Slughorn explained something about their challenge. Create a new potion, a few guidelines, and they were on their own. The lesson ended with Rose walking straight out, ahead of everyone. Potter ran after her.

His eyes were drawn upwards to the source of the noise at breakfast. Rose Weasley had slammed several enormous books in front of him at breakfast. She looked at him expectantly,

"Well?"

"Well what?" He asked, bemused. She sighed and sat across the table from him.

"What kind of potion are you thinking of making?" She asked, pronouncing each word as if he couldn't understand English.

"Maybe a poison," He retorted in the same voice. Her eyebrows rose. He glanced at the books and realized that she'd had the same idea. "Wanting to poison Slughorn for his partnering?" He smirked. His father had told him that, once, the house tables had been used all year around, not just at the Sorting. He was pleased everyone sat wherever now; else he wouldn't be talking to her. She shot him another glare,

"Shut up, Malfoy. We're forced to work together, so we may as well get good marks." She tossed a partition of red-brown hair over her shoulder, and continued acerbically, "Besides, I wouldn't waste it on him, when I could just poison you." And with that, she picked up half of the books and returned to her seat across the hall.

"A handful you've got there, Scorp," Fellow seventh year Patrick Parkinson remarked. Scorpius grinned,

"Nothing I can't handle."

"It needs a name," She said, her eyelids drooping as she smiled at him. They were in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom – Scorpius had to admit that Rose's mother had given good advice – surrounded by dead rats. It was three in the morning. Their potion had finally been perfected. It had taken longer than expected, because they had wanted it to swirl green and red, to represent the makers. There had been several mishaps: Rose's fingers were still bright green. He grinned at her,

"I'm a scorpion, you're a rose: a Poisonous Flower." Rose looked at him with wide blue eyes and offered him a smile of admiration,

"That's clever, Scorpius," She complimented,

"Careful," He warned, "You'll give off the impression that you actually don't mind me." Rose met his eyes unabashedly and blinked at him,

"I like your company," She admitted, dropping her gaze awkwardly to the cauldron. If she had looked up, she may have caught the triumphant glint in her partner's eyes.

On a short visit home to her family, Rose asks the inevitable...

"I was just wondering," Rose waited for the agitated nod which signalled that her mother was listening. Her mother made no move from the book she was reading. Rose sighed and summoned the book silently,

"Rose!" Her mother warned over her glasses. She hadn't always worn glasses, but recently she had found reading harder than before. Dad said it was because she'd clean worn her eyes out over the years.

"I'm trying to ask you something!" She whined, sitting down. Her mother glanced at her,

"I'm sorry, darling." Rose nodded,

"I was wondering, what'sinanamereally?" She rushed; she hoped her mother had caught it, because repeating it seemed distinctly impossible.

"A name? Like what name?" Rose refrained from rolling her eyes; her mother was one of the smartest people she knew, but when it came to cottoning on to what she and Hugo were saying, she was impossible.

"Like a last name," Rose searched her mind for ideas, "Like…Black, for Teddy's Mum, you know…" She was squirming, desperate for her answer,

"Oh, a name!" Hermione shook her head at her daughter, "You really need to specify what kind of name, Rosie, you could have meant a plant, a creature…" Rose tuned out happily; she knew the real answer was just around the corner, "… but there's nothing in a name like that, darling. You can make a name whatever you want to make it." Tears came to Rose's eyes; she had known this, of course; but hearing Mum say it was a relief!

"Thanks, Mum," She reached across the space between them and hugged Hermione; the latter laughed,

"You're welcome." Rose turned to leave, "Rose…?" Rose turned once more,

"Yes, Mum?"

"Don't ask your Dad, eh?" Rose smiled at her mother,

"Didn't even bother trying," Hermione smiled before summoning her book back and beginning to read once more. Rose's heart heaved in her chest – Dad would never say what Mum said, and she knew there was no getting around Dad.