Name Game (completed)

Chapter Eight

Scorpius walked into the kitchen, fairly late on Boxing Day. The majority of the Weasley family were huddled round the table, eating breakfast, doing homework, and in the case of Victoire and Teddy, discussing last minute wedding plans. Slipping into the seat next to Louis, he pulled the rack of toast towards him, and began spreading butter over a small slice. Biting into it he glanced around him.

Rose was sitting opposite him, sucking the end of her quill, and struggling with a Charms essay, Scorpius knew she'd already written at least twice. He smiled as he noticed the quill she was using. The bedraggled eagle feather quill, he'd given her a few years ago. At least she didn't hate everything about him. Rose followed his gaze. Slowly and deliberately, she put down the quill, showering Scorpius with droplets of ink. 

"Do you have a spare quill I could borrow?" she asked Albus, smiling charmingly, "This old one's looking so decrepit."

Scorpius gasped. That was harsh.

"Sure, Rosie." He handed over  a brand new peacock feather one. Scorpius noted, with satisfaction, Rose's disgusted expression.

"I thought you really liked that quill." James frowned. He was looking at new quill with the same expression. "That one's a little OTT, don't you think?"

Rose shrugged. 

"Are you sure that you don't want any more breakfast." Mrs Weasley asked Rose.

Rose shook her head.

"I don't really feel that hungry." She swallowed a mouthful of yogurt.

"What about you, dear?" Mrs Weasley turned to Scorpius. "Would you like anything else? Or some jam or something for your toast?"

"No, this is lovely, thanks." He gave her a weak smile. "Rose, do you think I could have a word with you?"

Rose turned to face him, her deep blue eyes shooting daggers in his direction.

"i don't think so Scorpius. I've got lots of homework to complete." 

Scorpius took another sip of pumpkin juice from his champagne glass. He scanned the room filled with dancers and people chatting, for Rose or Louis, or anyone who wasn’t trying to ‘feed him up’ or constantly checking his arm for a non-existent Dark Mark. 

Rose was dancing with James, a delicate champagne flute dangling from her elegant fingers. She was wearing a midnight blue dress, with a puffball skirt, and thin straps. The elegant cut complimented her slender figure, and the colour matched her eyes almost perfectly. She waved a him, cheerily. Scorpius was surprised. Only that afternoon, had she, in reply him asking her if he could sit next to her during the wedding ceremony, stormed off mumbling incoherent swear words. Encouraged by her friendliness, Scorpius stepped forward.

"Do you think I could have the next dance?"

James grinned.

"Sure. Good luck, kiddo."

Tottering a little in her heels, and swaying slightly out of time with the music, she wrapped her arms round his neck. 

"Shall we go somewhere less crowded?" he asked her, indicating to a quieter area where James and Fred were choosing the music with Teddy, "We can scarcely dance here."

“Is that an invitation?” she asked, poking her tongue out suggestively and giggling, and, before he could protest, dragging him into the empty kitchen.

“So, you do like me, then?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, desperately trying not to play along, but unable not to. She was just too irresistible. He was trembling all over.

“Yeah, sure," giggled Rose, moving swiftly towards him.

“Well that’s good, I suppose,” Scorpius smiled, giving up with resisting her, and catching her before she could sway out of his reach. “Because I really like you.”

And Rose Weasley, daughter of Ron and Hermione Weasley, two of the greatest war heroes of all time, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed the boy whose parents had fought on the side of the darkest wizard ever known back. 

That's when he smelt her breath.. Firewhiskey, champagne and something stronger he was sure wasn’t legal. He pulled quickly out of her embrace.

“I didn’t take you for a drinker, Thorn,” he said, trying to sound disapproving, but the situation was just too funny.

“Only on special ‘casions,” she replied, blushing scarlet.

“I’m taking that, then,” he said, reaching for her can and gently taking it from her, “before this occasion becomes any more ‘special’.”

Rose staggered towards him. Stumbling over an empty can of the aforementioned illegal substance, Scorpius caught her, and held her in his arms. 

"Your going to hate me for this." he told her, and pressed his lips against hers. ignoring the foul smell of alcohol on her breath. Because it was to good an opportunity to miss, because he knew she probably wouldn't remember it the next day when she woke up with a splitting headache, and because it was too late to turn back.

Until Ron Weasley (one of the greatest war heroes of all, and possibly the most over-protective father the wizarding world has ever known) opened the kitchen door in search of his mother’s specialty mince pies. Rose turned, smiling at her father, frowned at his purple face, and passed out in Scorpius’ thinly muscular arms. He turned to face Ron, still trying to keep Rose off the tiled floor. 

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing with my daughter?!”