"All right, everyone," Dean Thomas directs from his position at the head of the long conference room table, pointing to the empty seats as the members of his staff filter in. "Find a seat so that we can get started."

An air of curiosity fills the room. It is unlike the editor-in-chief of one of Britain's leading news and cultural magazines to call meetings on such short notice, and the dozen or so witches and wizards comprising the reporting staff for Witch Weekly are openly questioning his purpose for doing so, especially at four o'clock on a Friday afternoon.

As she takes her seat, Rose Weasley tries not to look smug, knowing it is best to pretend as if she, too, is surprised by the impromptu staff meeting, even though Dean apprised her of his authorization for her story earlier that morning so that she could arrange for an International Portkey and be prepared to leave London by five o'clock. But subtlety has never been one of Rose's strong points, and she finds it difficult to contain her excitement. After all, securing this assignment is a major coup on her part and rather than sit demurely and act modest, what she really wants to do is get up and dance on the tabletop.

Curtailing her glee is made even more difficult when Scorpius Malfoy takes the seat directly across from her and lets out a long, bored breath. If there is anyone whose face she wants to rub this victory into, it is his. He is so bloody cocky, the epitome of arrogance, and Rose cannot wait to watch his reaction when he learns that she has secured not only one but two cover stories to be published over the next four weeks.

"Settle down. We've a short time, and I need your full attention." Dean picks up a roll of parchment and a quill, and the murmurs quiet. Dean Thomas is a fantastic editor – easy-going and complimentary – but he is no-nonsense when it comes to running the magazine, which he acquired in his widely publicized and rather nasty divorce from Luna Lovegood, who kept sole ownership of The Quibbler when she agreed to give up all rights to Witch Weekly to Dean. "Firstly, I need someone to cover the Minister's press conference on Monday." He pauses and looks around the room, nodding in Padma Belby's direction. "Padma, I'd like you to take this one. There are rumors of an announcement as to the recent comings and goings within the Department of Mysteries."

"Of course," Padma replies, jotting down notes on the parchment in front of her. "I've heard those as well."

"And take Colleen with you. She needs more exposure with that lot," Dean continues, turning next to Colleen Creevey, who has been on the staff for all of two weeks and still looks as if she might vomit each time he addresses her. "Try and get one of Minister Shacklebolt that we can use on next week's cover."

Colleen nods, murmuring, "Yes, sir," and she is visibly relieved when he looks down at his notes once more and moves on.

"Secondly, speaking of covers…congratulations are in order to Rose, who has not only recruited her cousin, James, to give us an interview…" Dean pauses as several the women in the room, including Aggie Longbottom in the seat next to Rose, sigh and giggle dreamily at the mention of the star Chaser for Puddlemere United, "…but she has also arranged for an interview and photo spread with Daniel Radcliffe, for our 'Fit After Fifty' special edition in the coming weeks."

Once Dean speaks the words, Rose abandons all pretenses and attempts to hide her enthusiasm. Most of the staff members offer congratulations from across the table and she sits up in her chair, a wide grin spreading over her lips when Aggie leans in and nudges her. After a moment, Rose allows herself to glance across the table to her rival, and she can tell by the look on his face that Scorpius is not pleased about losing yet another cover story to her.

Rose stares at him for several minutes, only halfway listening as Dean finishes the meeting, explaining that Rose will be traveling to New York City that afternoon and asking for volunteers to cover a book signing and photography session with Gilderoy Lockhart for the "Where Are They Now?" edition, finally closing it with a reminder about the semi-annual staff picnic being hosted the following week at Malfoy Manor. But Scorpius refuses to look her way the entire time, instead keeping his gaze focused firmly on their editor until the meeting is over, after which he leaps up and is the first one to disappear out the door.

Knowing she has just over half an hour to spare, Rose gathers her things and makes her way back to the staff writers' cubicle, only to find Scorpius waiting on her as he leans against the edge of her desk, sifting through a stack of papers he clearly took from atop it.

"Pardon me," she says irritably, yanking her notes from his hand as she moves around him when he doesn't budge. "Can I help you with something?"

"I see your Portkey leaves precisely at five o'clock." He glares at her, finally moving from the edge of her desk to stand directly in front of it.

"Hmm," Rose replies noncommittally, tidying the papers and replacing them on her desk.

"You're feeling quite satisfied with yourself, aren't you?"

She glances up at him and smiles. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am."

"Of course, it doesn't hurt to have an inside connection, does it?"

"So what if I do?" she replies haughtily. "It isn't as if our readers won't be pleased. Besides, James was more than willing to have his face and story plastered on yet another cover, and Uncle Harry was more than willing to introduce me to a long-time friend."

"I don't know," he shrugs. "One could attribute your uncanny abilities solely to your family. Some of us find our subjects on our own."

"Yes, and your mummy and daddy had nothing to do with your interview of former Minister Fudge a few months ago," she counters, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why wouldn't I let them help me further my career? It isn't my fault I have famous relatives who are willing to do so. At any rate, I'm the one writing the stories, not them." She narrows her eyes knowingly. "I do believe you're jealous, aren't you, Malfoy, that I have more exciting and influential relatives than you?"

Scorpius lets out a loud breath. "If you say so." He looks as if he is leaving then turns back to Rose and leans in close. "Best be careful, though, Weasley," he mutters, his eyes never leaving hers. "With all these cover stories, there could be talk that you've been shagging the boss."

Rose glares at his back as he walks away, searching for a cutting retort, but unable to think of a proper one right away, and she is still smarting as she Apparates to her flat, changes into her Muggle attire, and grabs an overnight bag, catching her International Portkey and making it to her interview with only moments to spare.

~*~*~*~*~

When Rose steps onto the lift three hours later, she is gleeful, marveling at how bloody brilliant her life is as she descends the seventy-three floors to the ground. She has just spent the previous one and a half hours interviewing and photographing one of the most famous and widely respected actors of his age, who, although a wizard, has managed to cross over effortlessly into the Muggle culture as well.

She has never thought him particularly handsome herself; however, meeting him in person, she has rethought that subject. Her change of heart is due only in part to his lovely blue eyes and mostly because he was such a delightful subject, making jokes and entertaining her with stories of her uncle, Harry, when he was younger. Rose had listened in fascination as Mr. Radcliffe – Dan, she corrects herself; after all, he had insisted – explained that he is reviving a Muggle play he performed in his youth, in which he had been completely starkers on stage, only this time around, he is playing the older lead character. But all too soon, his director rang him on the Muggle contraption he called a 'Blackberry', and Dan was summoned away to a rehearsal.

Rose steps onto Lexington Avenue and shades her eyes from the afternoon sun as she looks up at the tall, mirrored building she has just exited, admiring the terraced arches adorning its crown which houses several wizarding businesses and flats, unbeknownst to the Muggle businesses also occupying it. She has been to New York City only once before, and she finds it amusing that things are so different in the United States than in Europe, where wizards and Muggles are quite segregated. In the states, however, the two worlds are more commingled, and most wizards seek to blend in, dressing in Muggle attire and utilizing many of the Muggle conveniences. Although Rose enjoys how invisible she becomes as she walks the eight blocks to her hotel, she is also quite anxious to return to the familiarity of London the following morning.

She arrives at the Park Avenue address of the hotel Dean's assistant has arranged, feeling hot and tired, and with aching feet; however, when she looks up at the stone nameplate, Rose giggles, thinking for a moment that once she stops being irritated at him, she plans to alert Malfoy that his mother's name closely resembles that of a Muggle hotel.

'He's such an arse,' she thinks as her mind is flooded with thoughts of him. Like it or not, Scorpius Malfoy is under her skin, and his dig about her shagging Dean had hurt.

"Bloody torture," she murmurs as she enters her room, very anxious to rid herself of the suit she has been wearing for the past several hours, and she swears to never again complain about her loose-fitting robes and comfortably-heeled pumps. She closes the door behind her and immediately steps out of her shoes and unbuttons her fitted jacket, tossing it over the back of the nearest chair, soon adding her blouse. "How the hell do they stand it? I'd rather walk around starkers than wear this everyday."

Rose startles at a rustle and a deep voice from the darkened sitting area. "You'll hear no argument from me…I have always enjoyed seeing you naked myself."

"Lumos," she directs as she turns back around and he laughs.

"I didn't mean to alarm you. Please. Don't stop on my account."

Reflexively, her hands go to her hips in a manner she knows is reminiscent of her mother as she eyes him suspiciously. "Who told you I was here?"

"If you'll recall, there was a staff meeting…a few hours ago…remember?" He smirks as he stands and slowly walks toward her. Rose backs away from him as he nears, soon finding herself trapped between his body and the wall.

"You are such a git. I meant, how did you know I was here? In this room? And how did you even get in?"

"Simple," he replies, threading his fingers into her hair and sliding his other arm around her back, deftly unfastening her bra and dropping it to the ground. "To find your hotel, I read through your itinerary while waiting for you after said staff meeting. As for finding which room you were in, it took a bit more persuading, but I convinced the lovely young woman at the front desk that I was your husband and had forgot my key."

"Aren't you clever, Mr. Malfoy?" Her giggle turns to a gasp when he tilts her head to the side and swirls his tongue around the shell of her ear as he kneads her breasts. She moves her hands down his back and grips his hips, pulling his lower body firmly against hers. She is not at all surprised, but as always, is delighted, to feel that he is hard against her thigh.

"That's Mr. Weasley to you," he corrects with a snigger, moving his mouth downward and lightly biting the side of her neck, just below the ear. "At least while we're here anyway. Mustn't have that desk clerk believe me a liar."

"No, we couldn't have that," Rose replies, her voice breathy, and she closes her eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of self-control when Scorpius closes his lips over her nipple, his fingers roughly tweaking the other. She arches her back, attempting to keep her voice light as she rasps, "Who would have thought that a Malfoy would ever freely claim to be a Weasley?"

"Quite unbelievable, isn't it? Perhaps you've enchanted me…I understand your uncle's love potions are quite effective," he teases, switching sides before continuing his delicious torture of her breasts.

"You'd best watch what you say…I am still cross with you, you know," she murmurs, digging her fingernails into his arms.

"Oh yeah?" Scorpius places open-mouthed kisses between her breasts and up the front of her throat. "What have I done to irritate you this time?"

"First you accused me of shagging the boss and now you've suggested that I needed a love potion to win your affections." Rose pulls his face to hers, kissing him deeply.

"I believe my exact words were that one might suspect you of shagging the boss, not that you were," Scorpius corrects as he unzips her skirt and watches it fall to the floor. "In fact, I happen to know that you are not, nor will you ever, shag Dean Thomas," he fixes her with a blazing look, "and you enchant me without the assistance of any potion, I assure you," he insists as his fingers brush over her lacy knickers. "You aren't truly cross, are you, love?"

"I suppose you can try and make it up to me," she replies, her breath catching as he caresses her through the thin fabric. He leans forward, resting his forehead against the wall, and Rose closes her eyes, feeling his breath hot on her neck.

"I'll do whatever it takes, I assure you. What's more, I happen to have it on good authority that our rows make you randy."

She hears a rip and feels what had been her undies slip down her leg to the floor.

"Those were new," Rose admonishes unconvincingly, taking his earlobe between her teeth when he slides two fingers inside of her.

"I'll buy you more," Scorpius growls, pulling away just enough to drop to his knees, intently holding her gaze. He lifts her leg and hooks it over his shoulder, and Rose runs her fingers through his hair, watching with almost bated breath as his lips curl into a sexy smirk. She shudders when he begins teasing her with his tongue and a somewhat incoherent thought runs through her mind that it is fortunate he is gripping her hips tightly, otherwise she might fall.

"Scorpius," she rasps, trying to steady herself as he simultaneously thrusts his fingers back inside of her and sucks on her clit, needing only a moment to bring her to a spine-tingling climax. He replaces his fingers with his tongue to draw out her orgasm, continuing until she tugs on his hair.

"Or perhaps not; I quite like you without any," he finishes, licking his lips and fingers sensually as he stands, fixing her with yet another smoldering gaze, which quickly vanishes the last ounce of self-control Rose possesses. She forces him against the back of a chair and clutches his face between her hands, slowly tracing the tip of her tongue along each one of his lips, drawing his mouth open.

"That is a lovely notion," she whispers then kisses him deeply, her fingers wrapping around his erection through his trousers, only to have him push her hand away after a couple of hard strokes and crush her body to his. He reaches down, grips her arse, and backs her into the hard edge of the table before lifting her onto the edge and moving between her legs. Rose tears her mouth from his and impatiently yanks at the fastener of his trousers, briefly stroking his cock as he shoves his trousers and pants down his legs.

Scorpius braces one hand on the table behind her and hooks his arm under her thigh, raising it as he thrusts deeply inside her in one hard stroke. Rose cries out and digs her fingernails into his arse, holding him as still as possible for a moment.

"Don't…hold still," she pleads, her eyes locked on his, and he nods with a deep guttural moan, visibly struggling to still his movements.

"Now," Rose whispers when she is ready, and she releases her grip just enough to allow him to move.

Scorpius doesn't hesitate and withdraws almost entirely before sinking into her again, beginning a maddening pace. Rose is forced back against the tabletop and the hard edge digs into her thighs with each stroke, and while she hardly cares that she will most likely have bruises afterwards, she doesn't argue when he lifts her from table after a few moments. She wraps her free leg around his waist and runs her nails up his strong arms, leaving light scratch marks in their wake as he moves them to the bed. Rose easily flips him over onto his back and straddles him when he joins her.

"Yes," he hisses as she sinks down around him slowly. He raises his knees behind her and thrusts up to meet her, his hands cupping her breasts and his thumbs stroking her nipples, forcing her to increase her pace as her body reacts to his touch.

Rose holds herself up by one hand resting on his chest, the other clutching tightly to one of his hands, and before long, she is hit with another orgasm, crying out incoherent syllables as her body shudders, the sensations overwhelming her. She stills for a moment as she comes down to catch her breath and almost comes again when she feels him pulsing inside of her and opens her eyes to find him staring at her, his eyes full of emotion, as she begins moving over him once more, this time, more erratically.

His fingers dig into her hip and his breathing intensifies. Knowing he is close, Rose leans down over him, allowing her long brown hair to cascade around them like a curtain, so that she can watch him when he comes: his eyes half-closed, his lips parted, his arms flexing, and his body tensing as he spills into her with one last thrust and a deep, keening moan.

She collapses over him, their bodies slick with sweat, and rolls to his side, curling up against him and resting her head on his chest.

"Brilliantly done," she giggles softly. She caresses his hand, gently running her fingertips over the thick gold band on his finger. "I suppose I'm no longer cross with you for insinuating such dreadful things about me."

"Good to know that I've at least mastered how to make up with my wife after a row," Scorpius replies jokingly, his breathing beginning to return to normal.

"That was hardly a row; more like foreplay, wouldn't you say?" Rose replies, smiling shyly as she places a tender kiss on his stomach.

She still hasn't grown accustomed to being his wife, and she feels a rush of emotion as she closes her eyes and reflects on how, after years of hiding their blossoming feelings for one another and fighting the growing sexual attraction behind their rivalry and arguments, they have arrived at this moment.

Everything about their relationship is competitive, has been since they were eleven and both sorted into Slytherin House, where they engaged in many spectacular rows throughout their school years and continuing into their professional lives when they were both hired as staff writers for Witch Weekly. But rather than put an end to it, working together only escalated their desire for one another, finally culminating when a particularly nasty argument late one evening six months earlier ended with the two of them admitting that they had fancied each other for ages as they fucked against the wall of his cubicle. Within weeks, Rose had practically moved into his flat, and they had married less than two months after that.

Yet, they have told no one save Rose's cousin, Dominique – neither their parents nor their families and especially not their co-workers – that they are together, much less married, due to the strict policy against inter-office relationships instituted by Dean in response to his split from Luna. And while in the beginning all of the secrecy and sneaking around had been exciting, they have both grown weary of it, leading to the only true rows that they have had since becoming a couple. There have been too many close calls of late, the most recent being the previous Sunday when Rose's parents had shown up unexpectedly at the flat she allegedly still shares with Dominique and walked into her room only seconds after she had Apparated in, having been alerted to their presence by Dominique's seagull Patronus.

"Just so you know, my grandmother has decided it's time I find someone and settle down."

Rose feels his chuckle under her cheek. She turns to look at him, and Scorpius brushes the hair back from her forehead. "She is threatening to place a personal in The Prophet on my behalf so that I won't be without an escort to Father's birthday party next month."

Rose sits up and scoots against him. "What are you going to do? You won't let her –"

"Are you mad?" he asks in disbelief. "Even if you and I weren't together, I wouldn't allow my grandmother to match me up, much less through an advert in that old rag. But I will have to come up with a suitable escort…Perhaps this is the perfect opportunity for us to come clean."

She studies his face – he is so earnest – and her heart skips a beat as she leans in and lightly kisses him. "I love you, Scorpius, and I want to…you know I do, don't you?" she sighs. "But what about our careers? You know Dean's policy. When we do go public, one of us will have to quit or be sacked." She pauses for a moment. "I'll speak to Dominique. I'm positive she will –"

Scorpius takes a deep breath, reaching under her chin and lifting her face to meet his gaze. "I don't want to go with your cousin, Rose, I want to go with you, and I'm prepared to tell Dean what he can do with his sodding policy. You are my wife, and I've grown tired of keeping it a secret. What's more, I believe I've told you on several occasions that I will resign –"

"And have you resenting me over it?" she interjects, shaking her head. "No. We need to give it a bit longer. Just long enough to figure out together what's best and which one of us should leave the magazine." Rose wraps her arms around his neck and leans her forehead against his. "I don't like all the secrecy either. I hate lying to our parents and friends and having to sneak about all the time…"

He rolls her over and rests on his forearms, brushing her hair back from her face. He is hard, and Rose opens up to him, aching once more to feel him inside of her.

"One time," Scorpius says almost heatedly as he enters her, "but only once. I'm tired of playing these games." Rose nods in agreement, quite sure that at that very moment, she will acquiesce to anything he requests.

~*~*~*~*~

"Best laid plans," Rose mutters somewhat bitterly as she stands at the edge of the garden next to the drink table, refilling her glass while watching her husband lead her cousin by the arm and introduce her to another group of people. She hadn't expected to be bothered by it; after all, it was her idea that Scorpius bring Dominique to the staff picnic, and the two of them are getting on famously, undoubtedly fooling everyone there into believing that they are interested in one another. And Rose knows that she has nothing to fear – she trusts the both of them implicitly – but the sight of Scorpius with any other woman, much less a beautiful blonde such as her cousin, brings about a jealousy and a vulnerability that Rose has never before experienced.

She is busy contemplating some excuse that would allow her to drag him away from Dominique when she hears the clink of glassware, and she glances over to meet the steely gaze of Asteria Malfoy, who looks pointedly from Rose to Scorpius and back again.

"You're in love with my son." It is a statement rather than a question, and instead of lying to keep up the charade, Rose nods.

"I am."

"And judging by the extreme interest he has displayed in whatever area of the garden you happen to be standing in despite his present company, I suspect he is in love with you as well," Asteria continues, and once more, Rose nods.

"How long have you been seeing each other?"

"Six months," Rose answers, failing to mention that they have been married for the last three.

"Why then is he out there with another woman? And not simply any woman, but a beautiful woman who is related to you?"

"It's complicated," Rose begins, feeling actual relief at being able to tell someone, "…our editor went through a horrible divorce and has this no-fraternization policy at the magazine –"

Asteria clears her throat. "I see." She runs her hand over her neat bun. "May I offer you some advice? I understand your desire to succeed. But I suspect – one day soon if you haven't already – that you will grow weary of the secrets, and you'll be faced with a decision. You don't want to make the wrong choice, my dear. You can easily find another magazine, but love isn't so easy to come by."

Unexpectedly, she reaches over and squeezes Rose's hand. "My son deserves happiness, as do you. Think about what is most important in your life."

Rose watches in stunned silence as Asteria turns and walks out into the center of the garden to join her husband. She swallows the lump which has formed in her throat, Asteria's words echoing in her ears and, for the first time, their reasoning for keeping their relationship secret sounds utterly ridiculous.

Yes, Dean's policy is unreasonable, but it isn't worth losing her marriage over. She has been approached by The Prophet more times than she can count, and she can always defect to The Quibbler if he insists on maintaining a hard-line stance on the subject. But the truth of the matter is, she is proud to be Scorpius's wife, wants to celebrate it rather than keep it hidden any longer, and she no longer wants to be forced to choose.

Without consciously realizing it, Rose places her empty glass on the table, seeking out and focusing her gaze on her husband, who is standing near the center fountain, talking to Dean and Padma, with Dominique by his side. Their eyes meet, and when Scorpius surreptitiously winks, Rose follows Asteria's path and strides purposefully across the garden, her eyes locked on his, reassured that it is, in fact, time. As he has said on many occasions, "Sod Dean and his bloody policy."

"Rose, what are you –" he begins as she nears, sounding slightly unnerved and looking a bit alarmed, only to be cut off by her lips crushing against his. Rose feels his arms tighten around her waist as he pulls her into his arms, lifting her off the ground, and for a moment, no one else exists, although she is acutely aware of the stunned silence of the fellow staff and odd family members surrounding them as they part.

"I love you," she murmurs, running her hands over his chest possessively, her smile matching his as she turns, briefly catching the delighted expression on Dominique's face and Asteria's pleased smile before finally focusing upon Dean's gobsmacked face.

"I reckon this means I'm resigning, although Scorpius has one hell of an 'exclusive' for next week's cover –"