**Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, locations, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling. References are made to the following: Love, Actually, Pride and Prejudice, Romeo and Juliet, The Notebook, Gone With The Wind, and history. All material belongs to its respective author. No copyright infringement is intended with the posting of this story.**

"Rose, what are you doing?"

The girl with the curly fire-red hair shook her head. Her creamy lids slid over her deep blue eyes as she responded.

"Nothing. Just watching."

Her green-eyed cousin gave her a curious look before turning his head to look at a pillar. "Aren't you coming?"

She swallowed, sticking her hands into the pockets of her long black coat. "I'll be there in a minute, Al. It's still early."

The bell tolled, signaling the half hour. People around the two teenagers hustled and bustled, and the tall, raven-haired boy stepped off, sparing one last look at his best friend.

She sat alone on a railing. Her feet were perched on the lower part, covered in a simple but chic pair of wellies. Her coat covered the majority of her body, leaving only the lower half of her dark denim swathed legs visible; black beanie resided on her head.

The loud pitter-patter of rain could be heard on the roof of the train station, and over the din of the machines and cries of people, Rose could barely her herself speak. But she wasn't there to talk.

Rose Weasley was there to watch. She was there to watch as stranger after stranger met their loved one, as the hugged and kissed and held hands. She was there to observe the love.

Rose had noticed that the world was often depicted as full of hatred, but it wasn't, not really. As she sat there at King's Cross station, getting ready to return to Hogwarts, she'd never been more sure of it. In last fifteen minutes, she'd witness more hugs, more kisses, more "I love you"s than ten romantic comedies put together.

Normally, Rose was not one to mope. She never sat around wishing something would happen, but rather went out and made it happen herself. It was how she got places; how she gained everything she wanted.

But for the first time, Rose was afraid. She was afraid of the consequences of telling the truth this time. She was afraid, as she sat there, a week after Christmas, that this time she would not get what she wanted. In fact, she was afraid that this time, she would get the opposite.

The sixteen year old had hoped to get what she wanted for Christmas. She'd hoped that she would be like the characters in Love, Actually, and somehow her story would work out just in time for Christmas. He'd run up to her as she was getting off of the train, fly to her house on Christmas Eve, show up at her younger cousin's Christmas performance, hell, just about anything would have done. But this, alas, was life, and it hadn't worked out.

As a result, Rose resided on that railing, poised, watching the love spread. She was a little jealous, but she couldn't bear to take the moments away from these people. They deserved them, every one of them.

She recognized a stream of the faces. Though her cousin had gone through the barrier into the magical world, she watched the rest of her family pass through as well. Her little brother Hugo, only thirteen, walked along side her Albus' little sister Lily. Lily was wrapped up in a coat and hat, laughing and pulling at Hugo's hair. They grinned at each other and ran suddenly, disappearing into another dimension.

Behind them walked Rose's parents. Her father had his long arm around her mother's small shoulders. As they walked, Ron turned his head and pressed his lips into Hermione's wavy brown hair. It was a picture perfect scene, his face pressed to her head just as they passed through the barrier.

Her cousins James and Fred were next. Two of Hogwarts' biggest heartthrobs, the two boys were already exchanging ideas for pranks. Fred lifted a firecracker, waving it in front of James' blue eyes, and Rose could of sworn she saw money change hands as they disappeared.

Bringing up the rear were her aunt and uncle, Harry and Ginny Potter. For two of the most famous people in the world, they looked shockingly normal. They walked hand in hand, Ginny's flaming red hair resting on Harry's broad shoulder. She looked up, blue eyes meeting the famous green and such a look of love passed between them that it was a wonder they didn't melt on the spot.

Rose had watched her family pass through and disappear; she'd watched declarations of love all around the train station, but she was waiting for her moment. She was waiting for when someone would look at her like Uncle Harry looked Aunt Ginny, like her parents looked at each other, like Al looked Hannah Peterson, like Darcy had always looked at Elizabeth.

As Rose sat there and watched all the reunions, the love, she thought of every love story she'd ever heard. Of Romeo and Juliet, Pride and Prejudice, The Notebook, Gone With the Wind. Napoleon and Josephine, Cleopatra and Mark Anthony, even her parents. Love was everywhere, so why wasn't it with her?

Another girl screamed, running into the arms of a boyfriend. "I love you," the muttered, and Rose looked away. Her eyes slid shut yet again.

"Rose… what are you doing?"

She took a moment to prepare herself, ready to look up into the eyes of another concern cousin. Doubtless her entire extended family was waiting on the other side of that bloody barrier, wondering what had become of Rose.

But the eyes she met were not green, like her cousins', nor blue like her sibling's, nor brown like her mother's. No, the eyes she met were a distinct grey. They were the grey she'd been waiting for, the grey she'd dreamed about for months, the grey she adored so much.

Her eyes moved quickly to the rest of the boy standing in front of her. Well, at six foot one, she supposed he was not really a boy anymore. On her feet, he was a good five inches taller than her, but on the railing their eyes were at the same height. His platinum blond hair fell neatly around his face, his long slender finger tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

"Scorpius," she said. "Hi."

"Rose?"

He caught her eye again, and something in his expression changed, as though he could feel her sadness. "Are you okay? Was your holiday alright?"

She nodded, closing her eyes against him. "Yeah. Yeah, it was fine. Yours?"

"Fine," he responded.

A suddenly warmth spread across her shoulder, and his fingers calmly gripped her skin. "Rose, what's wrong?"

She sighed deeply, willing her voice to be still. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

It broke right in the middle of the second 'nothing.' Damn.

Scorpius Malfoy gave a little scoff. "Yeah, right."

She opened her eyes and bored into his. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

He picked up his other hand and placed it on her other shoulder.

"Rosie, tell me."

Rosie? He never called her Rosie. She was Rose, or Weasley if he was angry. It was like her cousin was Al, or Albus, but never Albie.

She was suddenly aware of their position. She was sitting on a railing, on of his hands on either shoulder. Her face was tilted slightly to right, just because of the way she'd looked up, and his tilted in the other direction. Something about the pose was familiar, but she couldn't place it.

She gave a little humorless laugh. "I can't, Scorpius."

"And why is that, Rose? We've been friends for six years. You tell me everything."

"If I told you, I'd have to tell Al."

Scorpius smiled, rolling his eyes a little. "The horror."

Rose allowed herself to chuckle. "No, it would be pretty bad. I mean, he's only been teasing me about this for years. When he finds out that he's been right… Merlin, I don't even want to think about it."

"Is it that bad?"

She looked straight at him. "You have no idea."

"Tell me," he said. "Even if I can't do anything about it, I want to know. And you won't have to tell Al, I swear."

She didn't want to, but how could she resist it if he begged? How could she resist the grey eyes smoldering at her, begging her for the truth.

Rose knew that she couldn't, so she heaved a heavy sigh and answered.

"I'm in love."

"Love?" Scorpius laughed a little. "I thought it would be something worse."

Her eyes narrowed a little. "Worse than the totally agony of being in love?"

He nodded. "Good point."

"I thought as much."

"If it helps, Rosie." Merlin, what was with the Rosies? She almost couldn't take it. "I feel your pain."

She moved her head quickly. "You do?"

"I'm in love too."

The side of her mouth quirked up. "Oh you are, are you?"

His grip tightened on her shoulders and his mouth spread into a grin. "You have no idea."

Rose's hand, involuntarily, reached up and grasped his arm. "I'll tell you if you tell me."

Scorpius' eyes narrowed as he thought it over. After a minute, he gave a quick nod. "Fine. You first."

She shook her head, her hair waving out around her. He was not getting away with this. "Oh, contraire, mister. You first."

"Ladies first, Rose."

"Such the gentleman. Why aren't you in Gryffindor again?"

He grinned. "I am, madam, but stop skirting the question. Who is it?"

Rose slid a finger over her lips, pretending to seal them. "Not until you tell."

His eyes closed, only for a second, but long enough for Rose to panic. Why had she done this? She didn't want to know which seventh year bimbo Scorpius was in love with. She didn't want to hear him utter the name of a girl she barely knew. Whose insane idea had this been?

Oh, that's right. Hers.

Damn.

"You really want to know?"

Rose was all prepared to say no, he could keep it to himself, but something in his face told her to say yes. She nodded.

His left hand slid up her neck until it cupped her face. Those grey eyes bored into hers, and she saw all his raw emotion. In that moment, she was positive it was her.

But then something changed. The look in his eye changed from love to fear to decidedness.

"Rose, it's Tabby Lustig. You know her?"

Tabby Lustig? Of course Rose knew her; she was a sixth year Ravenclaw. Brilliant girl, but not pretty and certainly not sweet. Tabby was nothing like the kind of girl Rose thought Scorpius would fall for.

"Yeah," Rose responded, breathless. Scorpius' hands fell away from her shoulder and cheek. "Yeah, I know her."

"So?" he said. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"You said you'd tell if I would."

"Oh."

Rose thought quickly, mind racing. "He doesn't go to Hogwarts," she said. "I met him over the summer, in Spain." And she'd told him that Al had been teasing her for years about it. Rose resisted the urge to whack herself in the head. Scorpius was smart; he would pick up on the lie. But wasn't that what she'd wanted? Did she want him to know the truth?

Scorpius smiled, but it was so fake it nearly pained Rose to look at it. "And why didn't I hear about him before?"

Rose slammed her eyes shut, barricading the tears threatening to pour out. "He's a secret." A secret that Al knew, or suspected. Really, this story was abysmal. Why wasn't Scorpius seeing through it? Was he that afraid of the truth?

"I see," was all Scorpius said.

Another bell tolled, signaling ten to the hour.

"We'd best go through," Scorpius said. Rose opened her eyes, still fighting the tears.

"Yes, yes of course. Let's go."

As she hopped down from the railing, Rose Weasley took one last look at all the love. People hugging and kissing and crying. She looked at the boy next to her, with the piercing grey eyes and the huge heart. She saw the way he was looking at her. It was an expression she'd seen on a thousand faces in the last twenty minutes, but neither of them was willing to admit it.

Suddenly, Rose wasn't disappointed anymore. As she and Scorpius grabbed their bags and passed through the barrier, she realized something.

Even though she hadn't had that moment out there, even though she hadn't gotten what she'd wanted for Christmas, that was okay. Because what she had witnessed out there was the second half of every love story. It was the part where Elizabeth and Darcy got married, where David and Natalie kissed in the airport. But it was also the part where Romeo and Juliet killed themselves and Scarlett and Rhett left each other.

Rose realized that the first part of the love story is just as important as the second part. She realized that the part where Sam and Joanna played together in the band, where Aunt Ginny sent Uncle Harry the Valentine, where Jane and Bingley each think that they've been dumped, that's the most important part of the story. And even though it may feel like a failure, her love story was in the most important part. Rose realized that just because things hadn't worked out at that moment didn't mean that the story was over, it meant that it was still going.

It meant that there would infinite chances in the future to keep trying. It meant that her love story was really just beginning.

Because love, even if unadmitted and unrequited, is still love in its truest, most beautiful form.

AN: A few things...

1) This scene is based off both the beginning and the end of the movie "Love, Actually." Both shots depict multiple reunions at an airport. This my twist on it. If you've never watched the movie, I highly recommend it. However, it is rated R, so obviously caution is advised.

2) This oneshot is part of a writing challenged entitled Project PULL. It was started by yours truly and has over fifty participants. Visit my profile for details and it is never too late to join!

3) Thank you to xXIceShadowXx for betaing this. I know I promised you tacos. Someday, honey, someday.

4) See that little button down there? It once had a purpose. It was used to help writers give constructive criticism. Someone left a review on a story that was full of suggestions and ideas for help. It contained detailed compliments and ideas for improvement. I haven't seen a review like that in long time. Let's go back to the good ole days, yeah? :)

I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading.
-Bookaholic711