Men's Quidditch Digest: Guide to Scoring
Special Edition

Rose Weasley flicked her eyes to the magazine. It hadn't been here the last time she'd come over to Scorpius' flat. It was the sort of thing that Rose would notice; it was what made her such a good Auror. The Quidditch magazine seemed out of place for Scorpius. He normally read news journals and about advances in criminal investigation.

Next year, her Uncle and her father were retiring from the department, and she and Scorpius each had their eye on advancing to their positions. And Rose's dream was in the process of coming true; she'd signed the papers today. Some might call it nepotism at its worst, but Rose knew she had worked her arse off for the past ten years and deserved any raise or promotion she was given. At the age of twenty-nine, she and Scorpius co-headed the Auror Criminal Investigation Squad, both having worked up from the bottom.

Curiously, Rose picked up the dog-eared magazine and stared at it. She was used to this sort of thing from her cousins and her brother, but from Scorpius, her Scorpius? He didn't even like Quidditch that she knew of. She glanced at the scantily clad woman on the front wondering how her thighs didn't get splinters riding a broom like that.

Annoyed, she missed the innuendo in the title and flipped through the adverts at the front (more mostly naked witches) and skimmed through the table of contents.

Table of Contents:

Advice:

Fair Play…..Pg 5

Finding Your Snitch…..Pg 7

She's Protecting her Hoop For the Right Player….. Pg 9

Techniques:

Readying Your Broomstick for the Long Flight….Pg 15

Proper Quaffle Handling Techniques….Pg 22

Racing: When You Don't Want to Come In First… Pg 45

Getting Roughed Up

Feature:

How to Score Again and Again Without Losing Your Stamina….Pg 31

Pure Talent: 50 Tips For Playing the Game of Your Life…..Pg 58

Rose's eyes widened in disbelief. "Scorpius Malfoy!" she admonished aloud to the empty flat, and then with a grin she opened it up to the first bookmark.

Fellows, if you find yourself interested in a bird who insists she is protecting her hoop…

"Wink, wink, nudge, nudge," Rose guffawed aloud.

Or she is saving herself for the right man, whether it be marriage or otherwise, I suggest one of three things. Either she is not interested, she is playing hard to get…

"Rubbish!"

Or she really is saving herself for the man of her dreams. If it is the first, I'd suggest spending your time elsewhere, if it is the second, go for it and if it is the third, it gets rather complicated rather quickly. If you think you are that man, the one, spend your time wooing her, working your way into her life. If you are lucky enough to already be a part of it, do something extravagant.

Rose rolled her eyes and flipped further into the magazine. She could hardly believe Scorpius, her Auror partner, was reading this trash. She glanced at the adverts and noticed a woman, a very well endowed woman, dressed in nothing but Quidditch pads and a g-string shaking her wares. "For the love of Merlin," Rose whispered turning the page. Since when had Scorpius turned into a perv?

He was always the one she could count on in the Auror department to respect her as a woman. When the locker room talk got out of hand, Scorpius was always the one to quiet it down to make her and Molly Andrews, the other female on the investigative squad, more comfortable. Like the time last week that the new bruit on the team, Dexter, was discussing Rose's ample chest in the men's changing quarters. Her older cousin James, a hit-wizard for the Ministry of Magic, said Scorpius hexed him within an inch of castration before Dexter could even draw his wand and Scorpius probably would have finished the job had he not been restrained by three other Aurors and James himself. It was always nice to have such a quick draw watching your back in sticky situations, Rose thought with a smile.

Getting Roughed Up

Rose kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the white leather sofa. She'd heard of this sort of thing, of course, she worked with a bunch of randy blokes and was related to a bunch more. Rose had never, however heard anything in such detail as this magazine. It was intriguing the lengths people went to for sexual pleasure, not that Rose would know much about it. Her experience was confined to romance novels and her imagination.

The article entailed a list of spells, especially for the dominate lover: ties, blindfolds, whips. And then there were ways to play the submissive. And there were games… Commander and Slave, Auror and Prisoner, Boss and Employee.

Rose giggled. How could Scorpius read this stuff? She turned to the back of the magazine and blushed.

Pure Talent: 50 Tips For Playing the Game of Your Life…..Pg 58

They were illustrated. As much as Rose wanted to, she couldn't take her eyes away from the moving illustrations. One in particular caught her eye. It was titled, "Pleasuring Your Witch". The picture was of a man, with short blond hair kneeling in front of a naked woman. As he knelt, he placed his mouth at the V of her thighs and the woman wrapped her legs around his shoulders. Rose pressed her thighs together. She was still staring helplessly when Scorpius Apparated into his sitting room.

"Rose! Merlin, you nearly scared me to death!" Scorpius said, quickly putting something behind his back.

Like a dear in the headlights, Rose looked up at Scorpius. Her face was hot, along with the rest of her. She'd been caught. "I—um," she said and stuffed the magazine behind her. She felt like a school child who'd been caught with her hand in a very grown-up cookie jar.

Scorpius seemed to have caught sight of the magazine, for the blood drained from his face and he sputtered incomprehensibly.

"What's behind your back?" Rose asked once she'd found composure.

"N-nothing," he replied quickly. "What are you doing here?"

Rose frowned at him. Scorpius had frequently reminded her that she was always welcome in his flat. And she'd taken him up on it quite often. Whether the reason was concentrating on a tough case while eating take away from the local pub, or just sharing a cup of coffee and a good film, she spent as much waking time in his home as her own.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you had plans." Rose bit her lip worriedly. "I'll just head home then." And for some reason Rose Weasley who never cried, felt the first prickly sensation of tears behind her eyes. Probably, it was just embarrassment, but for some reason she didn't think it was.

Without looking at him, Rose slipped her purple satin flats back on her feet and stood. She was halfway out the front door before Scorpius spoke, "No, don't—don't go." He let out a breath. "Let's have dinner…. Or something."

Rose turned and looked at him. His light eyebrows were knit in worry and his cheeks were flushed. He ran a hand through his short, pale hair causing it to stick up in every direction. Rose's mind flashed back to the image in the magazine and she shut her eyes. Breathe Rose, she reminded herself. "Really," she said tucking a strand of wild red hair behind her ear, "If you have plans, I don't want to disrupt them."

"That's good, because I don't have any plans. Well, not any that I fancy doing alone," he smiled slightly showing his flawless white teeth. Rose's heart rate accelerated. Damn it to Azkaban. She thought she'd long since crushed any feelings she'd ever had for Scorpius Malfoy. Damn that racy illustration, and damn his perfect smile.

As soon as they had been partnered on the squad four years ago, she had quashed any feelings she'd ever had for the man. She knew that in the investigative squad, things could get out of control and she couldn't afford to jeopardize their safety or the safety of a teammate by letting her emotions rule her. So she'd methodically removed any bit of romance she'd ever felt for Scorpius Malfoy from her thoughts. She'd pushed her feelings aside and buried them deep inside her.

Rose nodded, "Sure then. Where do you want to go?"

He thought about it for a moment. A slow smile spread across his face, "Paris."

Rose was sure she'd heard him wrong, "Come again?"

"I…want… to… go… to… Paris," Scorpius said slowly.

"For dinner?" Rose said incredulously.

"Hmm… No. For the weekend."

"What?" she shrieked, "What do you mean?"

"We've each got three more days off," he said logically, "If we get called in to work we can catch the first Portkey back, or we can Apparate across the Channel and Floo from your Parents' place."

Rose's mind was whirling. She didn't know what to make of this. Merlin he was a confusing bloke. They'd been on trips together before, even as far as Venice, but that had been business. They were working. This was completely different. Scorpius wanted to go to Paris with her. Undoubtedly as friends, but Rose felt a spark of hope kindling deep within her chest. Damn it.

Scorpius took two strides and was standing in front of her, "Besides," he said pulling his hand out from behind his back to show her two hexagon shaped pieces of parchment, "I already bought the Portkey passes. I was on my way to your place, but I stopped off here first, you just surprised me. Happy Birthday!"

"But my birthday isn't for three weeks!" she exclaimed.

"I know that, but we have time off now. I've already reserved our room. And we have dinner reservations for eight," he replied.

Taking a deep breath, she took the pass he offered her. "But it leaves at seven… from Leatherhead. That leaves only an hour and a half."

"You'd better run home and pack," Scorpius replied with an amused smirk.

Rose, seemingly forgetting herself threw her arms around Scorpius neck and gave him a hug. "I'll be back in a jiff."

"Our room is in a Muggle hotel," he told her quickly.

When she Apparated out of the flat, Scorpius sighed in relief. He had thought it would take a lot more to convince her to go. Turning to the couch and nearly swallowed his tongue. She would have to find that, he thought looking at the bit of magazine poking up from the cushions. He pulled the magazine out intending to throw it in the bin, but a picture caught his eye. It was of a red haired woman, head thrown back in ecstasy, riding her lover for all she was worth. Merlin save me, he thought.

His mouth went dry. It was the same picture that had first caught his eye when he'd read through the trashy book. And it would be the last, too. Tearing his gaze away, he chucked it in the trash. Who needed illustrations, when soon he would have the real thing?

He poured himself a brandy and sat at the kitchen table. He would have her too. Scorpius knew that it was time he gave up being just her friend. He was sick of the comments men made about her when she wasn't listening. If he had to hear one more time about how some bloke wanted her muscular thighs wrapped around his waist, Scorpius might go to Azkaban for murder.

That wasn't all. Scorpius was tired of being celibate. It was self-imposed, but five years was a long time, especially working so close with the one woman who could drive him to madness with a glance. God only knew how many cold showers he'd taken since he'd walked in on her in the women's locker room at the Ministry. It had been an emergency, a murder they'd been called to, and no one was around to get her out. So he'd gone in only to find her dripping water, warm and pink. The fact that it was an emergency didn't curb the effect her body had on his. It didn't stop him from dreaming about her in that shower, wet and enticing.

Scorpius didn't even miss the sex. Not much anyway. He only missed it when Rose was nearby. When he could feel her presence on the couch next to him, or smell her hair as she passed in the hall, or see her smile, hear her laugh. Hell, who was he kidding, he missed it all the time. But he could live without it forever if Rose didn't want him. He'd been celibate ever since the day he fell in love, five very, very long years ago.

They'd been partnered up for a case, she from the investigative squad and he from the flying unit, to solve a murder. And during that investigation he fell head over heels. Three months later, he put in for a transfer so he could be around her and get to know her a little better. They'd gone through Hogwarts together, but he being in Slytherin and she in Ravenclaw, they'd never become friendly. Eight months after he'd put in for transfer, when Rose's partner retired, Scorpius was offered a position and made her partner.

He swallowed the rest of his brandy in one go. This was madness. Everyone saw it but her. She was damn oblivious to him and that needed to change. He was her favorite bloke, sure, but that was all. He walked to his bedroom and pulled his already packed suitcase from his closet into the sitting room. Knowing Rose, she'd be ready to go any minute. Oblivious or not, she was very efficient.

It had only been a moment since he walked into the dark room when Rose Apparated directly into the flat. Normally, if anyone else had barged in like that he'd have chastised them for being rude. Anyone but Rose. They had a long standing agreement that she was welcome no matter when or why. Her flat, on the other hand, she shared with her younger cousin Lily and he couldn't very well go barging in there at any time he wished. He'd probably get an eye full—of the wrong woman.

Rose was carrying a standard Auror-issue brown leather suitcase that matched his to perfection—for when they had to travel Muggle. He glanced at her legs and noticed how the grey slacks she wore made her seem taller than her five foot four inches. Along with the low cut plum sweater, she also seemed curvier—if that were possible. When he caught sight of her expression, his grin faded slightly. "How did you know I was going to say yes?" she asked narrowing her eyes at him.

"I didn't."

"But you'd already purchased the passes and made reservations," she accused. Scorpius automatically took a step back. "Were you going to take someone else?"

"No!" he denied vehemently. The very thought was appalling to him. Take another woman to Paris? No way.

"Then what gives?" she said dropping her suitcase and glaring. "If you didn't know I was going to say yes—"

"I'd have taken my mother or gone alone," Scorpius said smoothly while watching her warily. He wouldn't put it past her to hex him. "I just thought you'd agree to come with me. After all, we are friends." It almost pained him to say that word. How pathetic was he, pining after Rose for five years? But being friends and partners was better than being nothing, he told himself time and again. If he followed his heart and romanced her, he might be left without her. And that thought was almost too much.

After careful consideration, he'd come up with a plan: a plan to romance her without her noticing. He hoped. And if he left her cold, then she'd never know and he wouldn't lose the person he'd come to rely on most in his life. If it backfired… well, he would rather not failure an option.

"Are you ready?" Scorpius asked and checked his watch. Rose nodded, "We've got enough time to Apparate to the Peony Inn at Leatherhead, and then walk up the hill to the meeting spot without rushing."

Rose nodded. They both knew the Peony well. It was a common spot for witches and wizards being run by a Squib. The old lady had set up a specific corner of the back garden and the Ministry had provided the charms to shield from Muggle eyes. There were several places throughout England like it. The Aurors knew them well.

Scorpius glanced one last time toward Rose and with a turn he Apparated into the garden at the Peony. She landed next to him with very little grace thumping him in the backside with her suitcase. He reached out and gently righted her. It was something he was used to. He imagined that no one could be as perfect as Rose Weasley appeared most of the time, one must have a flaw. Hers was clumsiness. Scorpius found it terribly endearing while she found it annoying and embarrassing. She huffed indignantly and strode through the divider wall.

Shrugging, he lugged his suitcase through the wall and into the back garden. "It's on the other side of that hill over there," he said pointing to the west. "The passes say we are looking for an old milk can."

Rose laughed and her brown eyes danced to his. He snorted remembering the last time they'd traveled by Portkey. They had been coming back from Spain. Both had been up working on an investigation of the rape and murder of a thirty-nine year old witch from Bristol. They had cracked the case wide and had the man in custody. Rose had grabbed the first thing she'd seen when they were prepared to transport the English criminal back to home soil—a wooden box that happened to be full of opium resin (a substance illegal in both Muggle and Wizarding communities alike)—to make the Portkey. So not only had they got the bastard on rape and murder, but drugs as well. The low-life scum wouldn't see the light of day again. Scorpius smirked. He loved justice.

His father would be proud of him, if he'd been alive. And from what his Grandmother Cissy said, her husband was probably turning in his grave. Which made Scorpius smile even wider. He could barely remember his Grandfather, other than the unpleasant demeanor his mother had always detested—which was why they hadn't visited much. When his father had died twelve years ago in an equestrian accident, Grandmother Cissy had started coming around more often and he'd grown to love her as much as his own mum.

He glanced at Rose. She was cursing her choice of shoes as they made the steep climb up the side of the hill. "I could carry you," he offered innocently. The muttering stopped and she glared ahead with determination. Scorpius smirked to himself. Damn he loved her stubborn streak. Without a word, he took her suitcase from her and continued the climb. She didn't say thank you, or even acknowledge the help.

When they reached the hillcrest and could see over the other side there was a plump man toward the left. He was bent over a dull object, hands on knees puffing for breath. As they got closer they could hear cursing mixed in with his wheezing and Rose stuffed a fist in her mouth to stifle her giggle.

"Are you okay mister?" Scorpius asked in some concern sending a baleful look at Rose causing her jam her knuckles harder between her teeth.

The man straightened at once, patting down his hideous purple waistcoat. "Just fine," but he couldn't disguise the wheeze behind his words.

Rose watched as Scorpius patted the man on the shoulder and asked if he'd like to take a seat with him. Scorpius sat first, mindful that the man wouldn't like the wound to his pride. Being an Auror had taught Scorpius how to read people well. He conjured a glass of water and handed it to the gentleman. She was still watching him intently when he stood up and announced that the Portkey would be activating in about a minute.

The three of them stood close together, took their luggage in one hand, and the milk can in the other. A quiet bell chimed and then the Portkey was being activated. Rose felt a tugging at her middle and then the world was spinning. They were dumped in a small heap in the middle of a small square. There were people dining in cafes on either side of them, completely oblivious to their arrival.

From her many brief trips to Paris, she knew that they were inside the base of a grand, ancient statue. Scorpius hauled her to her feet and dusted her back off. "You should work on that landing," he said with a grin.

She harrumphed in response. The fat man made his exit from the statue and out into the evening only getting strange looks because of his ridiculous girth and costume, not because he'd just materialized out of thin air. "Where to?" Scorpius looked away and mumbled something. She narrowed her eyes at the back of his head. It sounded like he'd said the Hôtel de Crillon, but she must have heard wrong. "I said 'where are we going?' Malfoy."

Scorpius blushed, something he didn't do overly often. "I said le Hôtel de Crillon."

"Why would you do that?" she demanded. "That's practically a whole month's salary? Are you insane?" She hit him in the side of the head. He looked frightened and nearly backed out onto the street.

He put a finger to her lips and shushed her. She was livid, her brown eyes turned black. "Rose, it's nothing. Trust me."

"Nothing?!" Rose shrieked and batted his hand away from her. She'd watched him being frugal for the past five years. It was true he had the best of everything, but he spent his money sparingly on leisure activities. His flat was practically a closet above a dry cleaning business. He owned it, true, but it was tiny and sparsely furnished. "Two nights at Hôtel de Crillon would have paid my rent for two months." And then some, she added furiously to herself.

"Pretend not to think about it. Please, for me?" Scorpius pleaded.

Rose's heart beat furiously in her chest. He was so sincere and looked so handsome in his charcoal blazer. His shoulders were broad and he stood a good eight inches taller than she. His white-blond hair was short and perfectly mussed. Damn him for looking so beautiful. "If I am going to not think about it and ignore the fact that you are blowing an entire paycheck, explain yourself. I've seen how you live—"

"I live that way because I want too," Scorpius interrupted. Rose's mouth snapped shut, her brows knit in confusion. "Look, I know you know my family is rich…"

"Yes, but—"

"When my father died, I inherited it all." Scorpius sighed. "I inherited every bloody Knut. I don't live off it because I don't want to be that spoiled Malfoy boy," he spat. Rose stared at him. She'd heard that sentiment all through Hogwarts, and even around the Ministry. "I have access to it all, and I can't think of a better thing to do with it than to take you on an adventure for your Birthday. Now if we're through here…" He glanced around the street, put an arm around Rose's shoulders and pulled her out of the statue base, "We have reservations in twenty-five minutes. "

He hailed a cab and slid into the white compact next to her. Their bodies were touching from hip to toe. In flawless French asked to be taken to Hôtel de Crillon. She tried not to be impressed. She knew he spoke four languages, and she'd heard him speak all of them, but the French words rolling of his tongue did something funny deep in the pit of her stomach.

They arrived at the hotel in ten minutes and he sent their luggage up with the bellman.

Rose stared in awe as they entered the lobby of the historic hotel. Plush velvet chairs, marble floors, gold drapes and the chandeliers… "Merlin…" she whispered in awe. Scorpius took her by the hand and she steered her toward the restaurant. She wasn't even aware of it until she heard his deep voice conversing with the maitre d'. They were shown to a table in a grand dining room with fine china and white linen on every table. Rose didn't think she had ever been anywhere so fancy in her life and she felt horribly uncomfortable. Tentatively, she picked up the menu. The first thing she noticed was that there were no prices.

Scorpius kicked her under the table. "Relax, Weasley," he whispered with a grin, "Pick something out. Enjoy it."

She bit her lip—she only knew what a couple of the dishes on the menu were. "Scorpius," she hissed, "Come sit next to me." He raised his eyebrows at her. Blushingly she said, "I can't read the damned menu."

To his credit, he didn't laugh or sneer at her. Instead, he scooted to the chair next to her and leaned close. To anyone else, she imagined they looked like they were simply sharing a secret. "That is goose liver," he said pointing to one of the items, "And that is mussels with brie."

Rose wrinkled her nose, "Is there anything actually good on the menu?"

"Salmon with creamed dill sauce," he paused and looked over the rest of the list, "Or Cornish hen with honey and mustard glaze. That sounds good."

"Hmm…"

"We could each get one and share," he suggested in a whisper. It was what they normally did. He'd get something and she'd get something, and they'd sneak bites off of one another's plates. But somehow here it felt different. Intimate. She turned and blinked at him. Was it possible that Scorpius Malfoy was flirting with her? His mouth hovered just inches from hers and she felt a wild thrill course through her veins.

…Do something extravagant.

Rose's mouth went dry. Scorpius was wooing her. Merlin's pants, but he was! She turned away quickly, pretending to focus on the menu in front of her. He couldn't be, could he? She racked her brain for anything that might suggest she was wrong. Had he seen anyone lately? No… not for at least three years. Did he mention other women? Merde! No. And then there was that magazine…

Panic! No… Don't panic, Rose. She fought to control her breathing. The waiter came and Scorpius ordered for them—Rose didn't argue. The Frenchman seemed insulted when Scorpius declined the wine list and opted instead to order a scotch and cosmopolitan from the bar. He grinned at her as he handed the menu to the man. And he seemed to notice the expression on her face.

"You didn't want wine, did you?" he worried. "I just thought—"

"No, no wine," Rose agreed. "I still think it smells like fruity feet. But you could have had some."

"I wouldn't want to smell like feet," he replied with a smirk.

"What have I gotten into?"

"Hmm?" Scorpius asked, his eyes dancing merrily.

He watched her take a deep breath and shake her head. The red curls she'd tied back with a ribbon were escaping all around her face. He clinched his fists on the arms of his chair to keep from reaching out to tuck the unruly strands behind her ear.

The waiter brought their drinks and he swirled his and then took a sip. Rose swallowed hers nearly in one go. He raised his eyebrow, but she stared ahead. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she replied unconvincingly.

Scorpius signaled the waiter and ordered her another drink. There were people all around them, and yet when he looked at her, he felt like they were the only two in the room. It was crazy, but he felt like a bloody teenager. Awkward and insecure. He nudged her knee with his, "Venez-vous ici souvent?"

She rolled her eyes, "In English, genius."

"Do you come here often?"

Rose laughed. Scorpius felt his heart swell and his stomach fall to his knees. He loved that laugh. It was uninhibited no matter where they were, and it brought him such joy. He loved making her laugh. God if only she'd laugh like that for him forever.

The second drink she took slower he noticed. He went through dinner picking bits of salmon off her plate, and feeding her bites of his. When desert came, they had coffee and indulged in chocolate mousse with raspberries. Rose closed her eyes and savored each bite.

"I love the flavor of the berries," she said licking her lips lavishly. Scorpius gulped and set his spoon down.

He checked his watch, "It is early yet. Do you want to catch a film?"

"I'd like to go up to our rooms. Maybe we could order a film instead of going out? I am stuffed. You'd have to roll me to the theater."

"Sure," he replied. He was suddenly feeling nervous as they left the restaurant. He hadn't specifically told her, but there weren't rooms, just a room. Well two if you counted the sitting room in the suite. And he fully intended on sleeping on the sofa—it was just that he didn't want her to think he was taking advantage of her. Damn.

"Wait here," Scorpius said as he went up to the desk in the lobby. He conversed in French with the clerk at the desk. He didn't correct them when she wished for Madame Malfoy to have a wonderful stay. He only smiled and assured the austere woman that he was sure Rose would enjoy herself. He returned to Rose who was looking around at the décor again. "All set." The key jingled on a hotel key ring. He placed it in her hand and nodded toward the stairs.

Still, Scorpius couldn't quite believe he was doing this. Rose's father would kill him—brutally. They'd never find all of his pieces. He glanced down at her and knew that it would be worth it. She was always in his thoughts, his dreams. It was only rational for Scorpius to want, no need, to know if she was as in love with him as he was with her.

Three flights of stairs later, they were standing in front of the door to their suite. He gathered his courage the best he could. "Rose… I just want to tell you that we're sharing a suite—I didn't see the sense in getting two when one was big enough and…"

Smiling, she pressed a finger to his lips, "That's fine. I'll take the couch though." She slid the key into the door and opened it before he could respond.

It was just as he remembered it. When he had turned seventeen, his mother had sent him to Paris for a week to experience the culture. The room was decorated in old French style in different shades of sage and gold. The bedroom was off through a set of paned glass doors. The bed was grand, with its canopy and hangings. Rose was spinning in circles in the center of the room.

"I feel like a princess," she said grinning.

Scorpius eyed the bed again. Hopefully before they left… No, he shouldn't even think it.

Rose shrieked when she found the bathtub. Once again he was thinking things that a man should not think about his best mate—his partner. But when one was partnered with his soul mate, things got a little murky in that area. She shot out of the bathroom like a bullet and jumped into his arms hugging him. "Thank you so much!" she said enthusiastically, "This is the best present anyone has ever given me."

Enjoying the feel of her softness in his arms he hugged her back, molding her to his body. "De rien," he whispered.

Rose felt like she was flying. She pulled back reluctantly and kissed Scorpius loudly on the cheek. "You're an amazing friend." But she was feeling anything but friendly toward him. When he'd wrapped his arms around her, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time.

As a career witch, she had made some sacrifices over the years. She sacrificed her social life, and starting family of her own. It was the price she had paid to be the best at what she did. And it wasn't often that she had regretted it, but now looking at Scorpius… she thought she might. Panic rose into her throat again but she quelled it. During the course of their meal together, she'd come to realize something. She wasn't panicked because Scorpius was pursuing her—or she thought he was—it was because until tonight, she hadn't realized how bad she wanted to be pursued by him. Partner or not… hopefully they would both be out of the field soon anyway. And then?

It was like the wall she'd built in the around her heart had come crashing down, and she wanted nothing more than to be with him. She prayed to God she was right about his intentions, for she wasn't sure if she could take the letdown if she was wrong. She snatched his hand and pulled him to the couch. "Let's find a French movie. Something romantic," she chanced a glance at him. He didn't look put out by the suggestion like most men of her acquaintance would.

He picked up the television remote and started to browse, "This one looks good—but it doesn't have subtitles."

"That's okay," Rose said scooting just a little closer to him, "If I don't understand something, you can explain it." She knew the basics of French, Where's the bathroom? How do you do? I'm looking for…And she understood a lot more than she actually spoke, especially in context.

With a flick of his wand, he dimmed the lights then started the movie with the remote. While the intro was going he explained, "It is about the French Revolution. A young aristocrat tries to escape to the country with his mother and her maid, who he falls in love with, during the Reign of Terror…"

"Shhh…" she poked his ankle roughly, "I'll ask if I need clarification." He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. They settled in to watching the movie, Rose leaning against one arm of the sofa and Scorpius against the other. It was comfortable.

When the aristocrat, Fredric, kissed his maid for the first time Rose cast a glance toward Scorpius. She wondered what he would do if she broke their ritual. She wanted desperately to be closer to him—to kiss him. For ten long minutes she fought for courage and still she had none. She stopped paying so much attention to the screen. She was overly aware of his leg pressed against hers.

Rose looked back at the screen and was confused. The music was frightening and the scene had changed from romance to terror. The maid and man were standing in a richly decorated parlor, frantically exchanging words. She sat up and crawled to the other end and wedged herself down between Scorpius and the back of the sofa. "What's going on now? I missed a bit."

Scorpius smirked slightly and put her arm around her—to get comfortable, she told herself. "The bourgeois are storming the neighborhood, and he's telling Celeste where his money is hidden in the house." He watched for a minute. The woman, Celeste yelled something furiously and then the man solemnly replied causing her to burst into frantic tears. "He just said, 'I will die today. You, my love, must live. Take my gold, all that you can carry. Dress in rags and flee.'" Scorpius eyes widened "She's pregnant with his child," the couple embraced.

Rose sniffled and wiped at her eyes. She never cried—especially not where anyone could see her. Scorpius tightened his arm around her and she watched as the peasants broke through the gate of the manor where Fredric and his mother lived. The screen cut to the maid smudging her gown, face and hair with soot and gathering all of the gold she could into a stocking. She tied it under her petticoat, and then gathered another sock full and stuffed it down the front of her dress. She hid the rest in the servant's quarters and fled. The last scene was of the man being led toward the blade, and the woman watching from a rise above the city.

Rose winced at the sound of the blade being dropped. "How tragic."

"Mmm. Tragic, but romance often is," Scorpius said as he turned off the television.

Snuggling closer, she sighed. "What are we really doing here, Scorpius?"

Scorpius said a minor oath under his breath. He hadn't been prepared for that question. "Taking a holiday?"

She pulled back and looked up at him disbelievingly.

"You want the truth, I suppose."

"I always want the truth from you," she replied frankly, "No matter what it is."

Scorpius took a deep breath preparing himself. How to put it? Should he blurt out that he was in love with her? No. That was too blunt, too truthful for the moment. He would have to gauge Rose's reaction for a while before he let that be known. Merlin why was this so hard? He would feel like slime if she thought he'd brought her here with anything by honorable intentions.

He was slime.

"Bugger," he muttered. Rose quirked an eyebrow at him, obviously expecting something more than an expletive. He could just say to Hell with it and kiss her, but that too would be much too forward for him—especially given that he brought her to France and expected her to sleep in the same suite has him, albeit in different rooms of the suite.

"I just wanted to get away," Scorpius replied truthfully. "To spend some time with you."

Rose rolled her eyes, "We spend nearly all our time together."

"Not like this, we don't," he replied, waving his hand around at the room. Rose nodded thoughtfully, but she made no move away from him. Scorpius noted that she seemed content with his arm around her shoulders, her small hand splayed across his chest. It felt so personal, so unbelievably perfect.

Rose blinked at him, but didn't speak. He was just about to defend his intentions when she took a deep breath, and her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Rose--?"

And then she was kissing him. Her heart did somersaults in her ribcage as her lips touched his for the first time. No hesitancy. It was a bold, tight-lipped kiss. Her eyes were wide, glued to his. She saw the shock on his face and started to pull back, but his hands stilled her. One on the back of her head, and one on her cheek. His eyes fluttered closed.

His lips moved gently against hers, like a whisper of silk, smooth and inviting. Rose felt her lips part involuntarily as if it was natural as breathing. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as Scorpius pulled her closer to him. His tongue slid gently against her lips and she gasped at the overwhelming sensation.

Rose moaned in protest when Scorpius ended the kiss.

"Bloody Hell," he whispered reverently. One hand was still on her cheek, and the other had migrated down to her waist. Her hands were fisted in his shirt and somehow or another, she'd wound up in his lap, pressed fully against him. She tried to wiggle free, but that only made his aroused state more obvious Rose looked away in mortification.

"Did you just—I mean, did we…?" Scorpius gasped. Rose smiled coyly at his flummoxed rambling. "Bloody Hell," he said again on a sigh.

"Yeah," she agreed with a soft shuddering laugh. Rose had only kissed a handful of blokes in her life, and most of them had been in her days at Hogwarts. A Hufflepuff, two Ravenclaws and a Gryffindor. Then a wizard from Accounting, and another who worked in spell reversal at St. Mungo's. None within the last seven years. And none ever that had compared to this man.

No one had ever ignited her blood the way Scorpius did tonight. She looked at him through her lashes and wondered, Why tonight? And then, Why not? They'd spent loads of time together, but none quite like this. It was… magical, for lack of a better word. And when she looked at him here, after they'd kissed, all his barriers were down. What she saw in his eyes took her breath away.

Rose put a hand on either side of his face and stared into his eyes. Scorpius felt like he should look away, but he couldn't. A slow smile played at her lips. They were swollen from his kiss, and he fought to keep his desire at bay. He didn't want to scare Rose away from whatever this was that they had started.

She was inexperienced. He didn't exactly how inexperienced she was, but he knew that she was saving herself for someone special, and Scorpius wanted to be that someone. Desperately. Indefinitely. Rose leaned forward, almost tentatively and he met her half-way. The kiss was light, and intoxicatingly slow. Their mouths danced playfully, and when Rose slipped her tongue between his lips, a fire rose in Scorpius and he returned the kiss with fervor. After what seemed like hours, but was only minutes, Scorpius pulled back breathing heavily. His heart was pumping so fast that he might have just run a marathon.

"Merlin's beard," Rose breathed.

Scorpius shook his head to clear some of the fog gathering. She was driving him to madness. And yet, he needed her to know that he hadn't brought her here for this—well, not exactly. "Let's go for a walk," he suggested slowly. Scorpius' mind unwittingly flashed back to the illustration in his Men's Quidditch Digest and his eyes darkened just a fraction as he looked up at her. God she was beautiful to him. Her body was amazing, hard, but soft in all the right places. He wanted to run his hands all over it.

"You want to go for a walk?"

"Yes," he said pushing his way into a sitting position. It wasn't easy with her straddling him. Nor was it easy to convince her that he wanted to change this intimate position. There was nothing he'd like more than to stay in this hotel room with Rose Weasley and see where things ended up, but he was a gentleman. "Rose, I am going to be honest here," Scorpius said running a hand through his platinum hair, "If I don't get you and me out of this hotel room soon, we are going to wind up in that bed, or worse, on the floor or against the wall."

Rose made a small "oh" sound and scrambled quickly to her feet. She pointedly looked for her shoes trying to hide her blushing face behind a curtain of hair. So much for not scaring her, he thought angrily. Scorpius gritted his teeth and slipped into his loafers. Walking wasn't going to be easy.

He held her hand as they made their way around the darkened square in silence, neither of them knowing how to bring up the subject of what had just happened and what Scorpius had said.

She glanced furtively at him through her lashes. Rose knew that what had just happened hadn't been in Scorpius' plan—if there even had been a plan. He was too much a gentleman to have brought her to Paris for… that. If anything, he'd only wanted to open her eyes to him as a bloke, she figured. To see him as something more than simply her work partner.

And had he ever done a job of it, too!

Rose was burning up. The breeze picked up his scent and carried it to her and she sighed. She relied on that scent to always be there. It was fresh and masculine. It was Scorpius. Rose knew his scent as well as she knew her own.

Glancing at him again as he stared off into the night, she took in his profile. His jaw was squared and strong, his nose was straight and narrow and his eyes were windows to his soul. He was a man who cared deeply for his family and deeply for his friends. If Rose was ever in any sort of trouble, he would bail her out. He was the most reliable and trustworthy person she knew.

And it hit Rose like a lead cauldron falling from the sky. She was in love with Scorpius Malfoy. She stopped walking. After all the time Rose had spent suppressing any feelings for him, for they had always been there simmering beneath the surface, she was just now coming to realize she was in love with him.

"Rose?" Scorpius questioned tugging at her hand.

"Hmm?" She looked off into the distance, eyes glazed.

"Are you alright?"

Her eyes darted back to his and read the concern on his face. "I—yeah. I'm fine. Just fine." He didn't believe her. She could tell by the way his right eyebrow quirked up slightly. "Really," she tried to assure him, but she couldn't even convince herself.

Scorpius pulled her close and slung an arm around her shoulders. They walked some more and he stopped near a fountain motioning for her to sit down. She complied, too caught up in her own thoughts to protest.

"This isn't how I imagined this trip," he said after a few minutes. Rose breathed deep. That hurt and she blinked at him. He grimaced and continued, "I don't want you to get the idea that I brought you here to… you know." Heat colored his pale features and Rose forced a smile.

"Then why did you bring me, Scorpius. I know I asked you earlier, but I know that wasn't the whole answer. We've been friends for years, and never once have you bought me Portkey tickets and a room at a five-star hotel." She massaged her temples and worried her lip with her teeth.

Scorpius sighed, "I don't have a lot of friends Rose. I never have had. You knew me in school. I was always living under my father's shadow the same way he lived under my Grandfather's. I—I brought you here because you are my closest friend and the only one I can imagine ever being with." He focused on the city traffic unseeingly. "The only one I could ever love. I wanted to find out if you could ever feel that way too. But I didn't want to risk telling you. I couldn't bear to be without you. "

He sounded so sad, so forlorn. She wanted to take him in her arms and comfort him. "You know that since I got to know you, really got to know you, I've never thought of your father in connection with you. You are a Malfoy, and sure he was your dad, but you've never fallen in step with his ideals. We both know it. You are your own person, Scorpius, and my best friend."

He sighed and started to stand, but Rose pulled him back down by his belt. "I'm not finished yet."

"Rose—" Scorpius said miserably.

"And yes, I could love you. I do love you."

His eyes lit, "You do?"

"Of course I do," she said admonishingly, "You're my best friend. I've repressed anything else for so long now, it really took me by surprise when I realized what you were doing with this trip," Rose chuckled.

"You knew?"

"I thought," she corrected blushing, "It was that dirty magazine you had on your coffee table."

Scorpius dropped his head into his hands and moaned embarrassedly, "For Merlin's sake, Rose! Could you please never bring that up again?"

Rose smirked, "It all started to click together during dinner. The magazine said to do something extravagant. And what could be more extravagant than a weekend in Paris at Hôtel de Crillon?"

"What indeed?" he said flatly.

"Oh lighten up," Rose said playfully bumping his shoulder with hers. "I do love you Scorpius, and I can't imagine my life without you in some capacity either." There, she'd said it. She'd admitted it to him. She'd admitted it to herself. Rose breathed a sigh of relief. It was out there in the open.

"I sense a 'but' in there somewhere," Scorpius said.

"No. No buts. Not really." Rose sighed again. "I just don't want to lose you as a friend if this all goes—"

"Tell me about it," he mumbled rolling his eyes. "It's the one reason I've been holding off telling you for five years."

"Five years!?" Rose said in outrage and he looked away sheepishly. "Merlin's balls, Scorpius, we could have been mar—" Rose clapped a hand over her mouth and shot up from her seat. A taxi honked across the road and a dog barked in the square, but the silence between them stretched.

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

Finally, Scorpius said "If I'd have had any idea you felt the same, Rose, I'd have said something to you. Honest."

"If I'd have had any idea I felt the same, you mean. From the time I found out you were transferring in, I gave up hope of anything. I pushed it down because it was dangerous," she said with a sad smile.

"But we won't be partners soon…"

Rose sighed rubbing an ache in her chest, "It feels so strange to think of not being partners." He nodded solemnly. "I can't imagine being anything but your partner. I nearly turned down the position."

His brow furrowed, "When did you find out?"

"Oh! Gosh. I came over today to tell you and then everything…" Rose waved her hand at the sight around them.

He grinned and lifted Rose onto his lap, "Did you mean that? What you said about being married?"

"I didn't say anything about it," she denied.

"You almost did," Scorpius said teasingly.

Rose let out a slow breath, "Yeah. I know it's fast because I only just figured this out…But it's always been there, in the back of my mind." She buried her face in his neck timidly and breathed in his scent.

"I want a family with you someday, Rose." Scorpius said without thinking. "But let's just take it one day at a time. Okay?"

"Can we go back to our room now?" Rose suggested with a gleam in her eye.

They stood, hand in hand, and walked back to their room in silence, only this time it wasn't strained. The sounds of the night were no longer bearing down upon her, but peaceful. When they crossed the threshold they stopped and looked around again taking in the extravagance. It was truly a magical place.

"It is still kind of early by our usual standards," Rose said.

"Do you want to watch another film?"

She grinned mischievously. "I was thinking," she said at some length, "That you could teach me some proper, ah, Quaffle handling technique… And maybe we could score a few goals."

Scorpius choked, and Rose's mirth got the better of her. He growled and tugged her against his solid chest.

"Tu es ma meilleure amie,*" Scorpius murmured against her mouth before capturing her lower lip between his teeth. Rose gasped as he bit down gently and released it. "And I love you."

Smiling, she reached up on her tiptoes and kissed his chin. "Happy birthday to me," she sang gleefully.

"You're birthday isn't for three weeks, Rose."

Rose pressed a finger to his lips, "No matter. I think we should celebrate," she said winking at him and tugging him toward the bedroom by the front of his shirt.

A/N

*Tu es ma meilleure amie: You are my best friend.