A oneshot for first place winner of the Marauder's Map Contest 2010, RoseScor90, for her story A Confession Is No Apology
(was previously part of a collection but I have uploaded them individually)

Disclaimer: all extracts from Harry Potter are copyright of JKR.

Father Warned Me

"So that's little Scorpius," said Ron under his breath. "Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

"Ron, for heaven's sake," said Hermione, half-stern, half-amused. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"

"You're right, sorry," said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added, "don't get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pure-blood."

I remember his words so clearly. Maybe he meant it as a joke, or perhaps not; but I haven't forgotten them.

I should've kept them in mind at all times. I should've taken them into account before falling in love with my inherited archenemy.

I'd never imagine falling in love with a boy that came from a pompous pureblood family. I knew how his grandfather was a Death Eater, how his father had tormented my own in school. Not to mention my mother—who had to put up with his insolent remarks for being a "mudblood".

Never in my craziest nightmares would I have arrived at the conclusion that I was to marry at twenty-three the man I'd loathed at eleven.

But then, destiny has always had it in for us. So I will tell my story.

The first time I'd talked to him—properly, had a real conversation—was in my third year. Before that, I had simply loathed him blindly—an inherited enmity. We glared at each other between classes, tried to outsmart each other during them, and talked badly of each other after them.

But it wasn't until a Thursday before the first Hogsmeade weekend when I had a genuine discussion with him. It was, as fate wanted it, in a Potions class.

"We will be working on a certain series of potions for a major part of the first term. The potions we will create will all share one thing in common: they will all have a rose petal as the main ingredient," explained Professor Brew, obtaining a few sniggers from the class.

"Yes, yes, laugh all you wish, but the rose petal has many characteristics—in one potion it may make the drinker fall in love—not that we'll be making any love potions, you've all got enough hormones dancing already—and in others, the petals may make the drinker fall into a state of being that greatly resembles death—but we won't be making that potion either."

A few chuckled.

"Anyhow, for the rest of the term, you will all be working in partners. You will be given a group mark for your final results, and must learn to work together in order to succeed in this subject. Therefore, your partners will be assigned by me."

Many groaned. Professor Brew was known for making the most absurd pairs ever. I smelled danger. If I was paired up with Malfoy, I didn't know what I'd do…

The potions master started reading names off one of his lists. The whole class listened eagerly for the first time in one of his lessons, wanting to know whether or not they were going to be working with someone they could put up with.

"Rose Weasley—"

I held my breath.

"—Scorpius Malfoy."

I cursed silently. Trust me end up with the person I least wanted to be with.

A few minutes later we were sitting next to each other at a table at the back of the classroom.

"Listen, Malfoy, we can still loathe each other, but I think that it might be useful if we put our hate aside during the Potions hours in order to get a good mark. I believe that it's better if we act impartially in classes. You probably want an outstanding as much as I do."

He nodded.

"That's a good idea. For a Weasley. But remember—I still hate you out of these four walls."

That's the first time I realized that he had green eyes. That term went by fast; I loathed him out of class but during Potions we got on so well. Every concoction we made was perfect, and Professor Brew would award us Outstanding after Outstanding for our ideal discipline. I soon became aware of the fact that Scorpius Malfoy was not as bad as my parents had depicted his father to be. Day after day, I came to look forward to Potions, and when we finally ended the assignment and returned home after the holidays, it was a bit of a disappointment not to have him as my partner, and to have to work with the foolish Daisy Heatherfield instead.

My fourth and fifth years were the same—I still felt that need, that duty, to hate him with all my might. But every time we had to do a project together, I'd forget about my feelings and just enjoy my time with him. He was very intelligent, incredibly interesting to talk to. We conversed—or rather, debated—about everything: politics, muggles, purebloods, whether or not Yuri (the new gamekeeper, son of Hagrid and Madame Maxime) was having an affair with Amelia Cerise, our Charms teacher—anything. He became one of the best friends I'd ever had. Not that I ever told my parents. I thought they'd take me to St. Mungo's if I'd told them of my friendship with their childhood rival's son—even more so when my father had expressly told me not to get too close to him.

It was when I saw him snogging Katherine Willmock in my sixth year that I understood my feelings for him. I was unconditionally in love with my archenemy—my inherited archenemy. It was a destined love. I knew then that all that hate was bound to make my heart rebel from my thoughts and make its own decisions.

The pain I felt was terrible, enough to split any heart in two. I was confusion personified. On one hand, there was that obligation to not stand him, and on the other was the unexpected and baffling passion that I had come to feel for him. And the fact that he was in a relationship with another girl was horrible. He even came to me at times for advice. We had grown to be inseparable, and although we didn't see eye-to-eye on everything, the other's opinion was always highly valued. It was so unbearable to hear him talk so liberally of his love for Katherine. A love, as he said, that could overthrow empires, that could surpass centuries. A love that could never die.

There was a Spring Ball that year. I was heavily depressed. How could I attend with anyone but Scorpius? Yet, that was impossible, for he had already asked Katherine. The night came, and I assisted with one of my best friends, Emily Finnigan, who had recently been dumped by Matthew McLaggen.

Late that night, I was sitting outside on the grass under the moonlit sky, alone, for Emily had managed to get back together with Matt. The heavens above me were so peaceful—so eternal in their might.

I thought of rose petals and potions classes. I thought about days out at Hogsmeade and late nights in the library. I thought of Quidditch matches against each other—seeker versus seeker. I thought of how foolish I had been to have felt the need to abhor the soul that my heart now was determined to love.

And then I suddenly felt his presence behind me.

"Rose?"

I turn my head, still sitting on the grass.

"Yes?"

His green eyes look anxious, yet those irises bewitch my own and I cannot look at anything besides his countenance.

"Can I talk to you?" he inquires, sitting down beside me in his elegant dress robes. His blonde—almost silver—hair lies in a casual fringe over his eyes, and it takes all of my self-discipline to not kiss him on the spot.

"Need you ask?" I reply with a smile.

"Listen, Rose," he starts. "There's something I'd like to tell you. I'm not sure if you'll want to hear it, but I don't care, I've got to tell you now; I'm fed up of waiting. First, though, I need you to answer a question.

He stops, and looks at me inquiringly. I'm surprised, but a bit nervous. If he asks about my feelings, I am doomed, for Scorpius and I know each other too well to believe each other's lies.

"Go on."

"It's…a rather, er, personal question."

Here goes. I'll have to tell him sometime—but now? Now while we're at the Spring Ball and he's come with someone else? Now when he loves someone else?

But as always, I'm left with no choice whatsoever. To object to answering would be admitting I had something to hide.

"It's fine."

Scorpius goes on then, reassured; but I can tell he's still a bit apologetic about the question. I'm just hoping it won't be what I think it is.

"Are you in love with someone?"

There it is. Out in the open for the stars, moon and sky to hear. I hesitate, unsure of what to say. But I know I cannot lie.

"Yes," I manage to reply in a soft whisper.

"Then why didn't you ask that boy to the ball?" he queries, in the same faint murmur.

"He… he was going with someone else."

He pulls me into a comforting hug. I don't know if he's realized the truth, or if he's trying to soothe me; all I know is that I feel safe in his arms.

"Is he handsome?" he whispers.

I pull away.

"Look, Scor, I don't know why you're asking these questions. I know we're best friends, but I'd rather not talk about this right now. Not here."

There are tears in my eyes. I know I won't be able to keep my love secret any longer, but I've got to try.

Scorpius' expression saddens when he sees my watery eyes, and he hugs me yet again, stroking my back reassuringly as I cry into his shoulder.

"It's always sad to love someone who doesn't love you back," he murmurs.

"Katherine loves you," I breathe between my sobs, looking up at his handsome face.

His gaze locks with mine.

"But I don't love her."

I stare at him; he looks away.

"And anyway, you're wrong, she doesn't love me. She told me so half an hour ago."

"I'm sorry."

"No, Rose. Don't be. I've realized I don't either. I've realized I've never did. There's only one person out there that I've ever loved. And her not reciprocating my feelings is what makes me so sad."

There's another girl. I explore my memories rapidly, analyzing everyone he's ever been a bit more than kind to; but I cannot picture anyone. Tears of sorrow and fury spring to my eyes but I keep them back—it will not do to cry now.

"Who is she?"

I want the object of my rage and envy to have a name, and a face.

But Scorpius doesn't answer. He merely lies down on the grass and looks up at the moon above him.

"Ever noticed how fate always pulls a trick on us? The first time I noticed was when I was paired with you for potions in third year. After hat term I think that I would have thrown up if I'd seen another rose petal—but made a new friend: you. That day on, you have always been someone I could rely on. Someone I could confide in. But a few months ago, I—"

He breaks off, sitting up again. Suddenly he gazes into my eyes with such force—I am enraptured.

"Before we first met on the train, my father told me who you were. He told me about his enemyship with your parents, and that I should try to outsmart you, to pride the Malfoy name. But I cannot hate you, Rose, because—

"Oh Merlin, I put a spider in Professor Cerise's cereal and I'm not brave enough to—"

I suddenly feel his lips against mine. Those years of loving without knowing, that love which sparked from loathing—all those feelings of confusion fused together into a kiss of glory.