𝐂 𝐡 𝐚 𝐩 𝐭 𝐞 𝐫 𝟎 𝟏

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A/N: This story itself belongs to me, all characters belong to J.K Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter Series.

Thank you, and enjoy!

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How foolishly she had fallen intoxicated by him. Her mind poisoned, and her heart anesthetized, unable to feel just how painful their love was.

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Born on August 19, of 2009, was Rosaline Granger-Weasley, daughter of the Wizarding World's beloved war heroes. Quick to adopt to her mother's wit and father's will, she grew up to be a rather special girl. Learned to walk and talk far earlier than the other children, and to read and write far better than them as well. Kept her bushy red head stuffed under a myriad of books, reading one after another, and another after one. And not to forget her stubbornness, a trait some may deem as a flaw- but not her. No, for Rose took unhesitating advantage of this instinctive strong will, pertinacious to reach for the stars. But it was not her astounding intellect and rousing obstination that made Roseline so unique- it was her golden little heart, an extraordinary library of her own.

A library like none other, for it was filled with her own tales- one for each being she had ever come across during her lifetime. One story per person, some long and some short, some chapters and some sentences. And oh, how it blessed her heart to write them, pouring out her soul into the delicate pages she had created.

And if one were to take a stroll about her little library, they would find, hidden deep into the depths of her heart, a beautifully tragic story belonging to a boy who was held dearest to her heart. A boy who yearned for her purity, who sought for her love. A boy who loathed her, and yet all at the same time, needed her. Who dropped to his knees and surrendered his very heart and soul to her- for her. He belonged to her, and to her love only. And it is here that she confines a terribly wicked story for a terribly wicked boy. But nonetheless, her boy. Her's. And if he could once more yank and twist and rip out her heartstrings with his pernicious love, she would let him, because he was her's.

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy's story begins far back to the age of ten, when Rose was accepted to board school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, succeeded by proudly being sorted into Gryffindor. Only to be anticipated by just about anyone, she was quick to surpass her peers in their studies and hold her spot as top of her class. And maintained it throughout the years did she, spending nearly all time free of lectures in the library. And thus, Scorpius made his first appearance into her life, when he corrected her answer in front of the entire first year transfiguration class. Abashed, she kept her head down for the rest of the lecture; the day proceeding, she came to class determined on outshining Malfoy- answering any questions directed to the little boy. Days had past, and little Rose grew vexed by Malfoy's rather placid behavior. He never struck his hand up as high as his frame would allow, pleading for the professor to call on him, like she had done. And nonetheless, when called on, he had the perfect answer- adequate to the professors' liking. And he never carried a tower of books resembling the Leaning Tower of Pisa, or ditched his social life for the library on the first floor, like she had done. And nonetheless, he was just as smart as she, top of his class. It was then that she had begun to be aware of her feelings towards the boy- not hate, but a silly, one-sided, schoolyard competitiveness. An effect of jealousy, perhaps, for he seemed to be just as sophisticated as her, only without trying.

And following their first year, Rose grew out of her old habits of attempts to surmount the boy; though her disfavor towards him remained strong , despite never being too sure as to why. He was a quiet boy, never stirring up trouble. In fact, it was his best friend and fellow Slytherin (and her own cousin, at that), Albus Potter who was quite the mischievous sidekick. Malfoy meekly stood alongside his mate, giggling and gaping at the ticks and pranks Albus played on their peers. So no, Malfoy never really did anything to her to make her hold such prejudice against him. Given time, she assumed it was just her papa's influence, for Ronald never was fond of the Malfoy's and was proud to voice out his hatred. Of course, Rose, being a daddy's girl, was undoubtedly swayed by his speeches and lectures directing her to stay far, far away from the so-called 'foulsome and biggoted' family. That summer, an odd churning of guilt stirred in her stomach, and she began to work on a plan for reconciliation.

𝐀𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬: A Scorose StoryWhere stories live. Discover now