The noise in the pub swelled exponentially from the time that she walked in with her girlfriends. Catcalls and whistles did not usually provide the soundtrack most evenings; however this girl was currently firmly lodged in her rebellious phase, and most of the men could not help themselves. Red waves dangled down to the small of her back, and as she danced with her friends her hair swung majestically as though imploring that every man queue up for a touch. Wild hands in the air, hips twisting and dipping with each thump of the bass drum, there was no question in any man’s mind in the place—not only was she asking for it, but she would be the crowning achievement of the tick marks on their head boards.
Like all the others in the room, he watched her as well, eyes obscured by his blonde locks and the darkness of the corner in which he sat. Lifting the glass of firewhiskey to his lips, he glanced around at the rest of the men in the room. They watched hungrily, awaiting her departure from the dance floor for a proposition. He was partially amused and partially disgusted by the fact that he knew some of these men and worked with them daily. He knew the girl too; she was a school mate of his and someone he had paid little to no attention to throughout their time at Hogwarts. It seemed a little strange for her to be acting in this manner, but he had never really known her that well in the first place. He turned away from the spectacle and glanced at the bartender, who was at the other end of the bar mixing some type of ridiculous fruity looking concoction for one of the girl’s friends.
For a brief second, he took the time to replay the events of the day in his head for the ninth time, wishing even more intensely during this reverie that he had just stayed in bed that morning. It had been raining in the morning when he’d awoken from a horribly restless night’s sleep, and he should have known by the cold indentation in the sheets next to him that today was not his day. His girlfriend Anna had run out on him after cheating with a string of men with questionable morals and fat wallets, and her absence was still a hole in the deep recesses of his heart, though he would tell no one about it. The day had only gotten worse from there.
The unimpressive, insignificant job title he held at the ministry was a glaring mockery of the former glory that had once shrouded his family in importance and fame. Working at the lowest level possible inside the department of magical games and sports, it was as close as he could possibly be to playing quidditch professionally. When he wasn’t busy kissing the asses of every professional player the Chudley Canons had to offer, he was doing their paper work, fetching their laundry, and writing wistful letters of apology to all their one night stands. It was the worst job to have at the ministry, and it was specifically insulting and disgracing to his family.
Scorpius Malfoy was not a God damned secretary. And yet he was, and he felt like a fool as he tipped the cool glass back against his lips and let the fire slide down his throat. Delicious. He felt justified in his misery; today he had received a rather nasty tongue lashing from the captain for failing to send part of a new contract to the league owner that secured his healthy bonus check. Then, his boss had laid in to him for the same misdeed, multiplying his humiliation by bringing up the fact that he had failed to secure a date for one of the beaters to some stupid benefit dinner. Apparently, he attended alone and ended up in the arms of the busty seeker of the HolyHead Harpies and there were pictures splashed on the front of Witch’s Weekly, which was horribly awful for the image of the franchise.
In addition to the morning’s catastrophe, he had spilled soup down his front during lunch, which required a trip to the lavatory and lots of cool water on the superficial burns that now graced his chest. And when he thought maybe, just maybe, his day could be rescued from the fiery depths of blackest hell, he had received an invitation to a wedding from an old school friend from Hogwarts, which brought up those recurring acidic thoughts about Anna, and then his day had come full circle.
Scorpius dearly wished the bartender would come back over and refill his depressingly empty tumbler. The girls were still dancing on the floor, hypnotized by the rhythm and excited by the prospect of being the only thing in the room that could bring conversations to a standstill. The red head in the center was particularly alluring, and Scorpius watched the colors from the enchanted ceiling reflect off her glistening skin. He didn’t want her the way the others did; he was simply a spectator to her show, a seduction game that was too much for him to deal with.
“All right?” The bartender broke his thoughts.
“I’ll have another, please.”
The song ended then, and the girls giggled almost annoyingly and then broke apart. Scorpius waited for the free-for-all stampede toward the girls, but it was surprisingly muted. Glass full again, he relished the taste of the alcohol and stared down at the disgustingly sticky bar, wishing Anna would leave his head as easily as he apparently had left hers.
“Heeeey, aren’t you Scorpius Malfoy?”
His head snapped up, and he was face to face with the redheaded beauty. He couldn’t help but think that, though exquisite, she would probably look so much more beautiful with more muted neutral tones, rather than the shock of black rimming her eyes and the wild turquoise shadow painted up to her brow line. Her blue eyes were soft and welcoming, but she appeared intoxicated, and he turned back to his drink.
“Yeah,” he replied to the bar.
“Wow! I was in your year at Hogwarts, I don’t know if you know. I never talked to you because my Daddy told me not to, but I am now, aren’t I! Rose Weasley! Pleased to meet you!” She stuck a hand out toward his face. He reciprocated the motion, noting how soft her hands were.
“Right, nice to see you again.”
“So what are you doing here tonight?” she asked, taking the stool next to him. She reached back and grabbed the length of her hair, folding it so that it allowed the cool air to caress her neck. “Oh my God I am so hot! Dancing is such a work out!”
“It’s my friend’s party, she’s just turned 19, and we’re out dancing!”
“So why are you here?” she asked again, taking a sip from her drink.
“Am I not allowed to come to the pub after working and have a drink?” he snapped, awkwardly repositioning his legs on the stool. He caught her scent and it was floral and spicy and everything that he would imagine that she would smell of, and he wished that she would leave.
“Well of course you are! Hey, you should come and dance with my friends. You could dance with me! You look like you need a good dance. I’m a great dancer, I don’t know if you saw.”
Scorpius pursed his lips together to create a half smile.
“I saw,” he repeated slowly, in such a manner that probably would have offended her, had she been sober.
“You look sad. You wanna talk about it?”
“Oh, come on. You know, I’m in training to be a healer, and there’s this class we take that’s all about the way people feel and communication, and I really know that, if you tell me what’s wrong, you’ll feel better. Come on.” She crossed her long bare legs and repositioned her skirt, as though she was getting ready to analyze his entire psyche.
“Not in the mood. Thanks, though. It looks like your friends are looking for you. Better see what they want.”
“They can wait! You are a citizen in need, and it is my duty to make sure that, not only do you smile, but that you have fun! All these other guys, they are just looking for trouble. But you, you’re a genuine soul. So I’m afraid I’m going to have to corrupt you now!” She giggled at her attempts at humor and reached out to grab his arm. He sucked in a quick breath and let it out as she smiled warmly.
“I really don’t think that I’m what you’re looking for. There’s not a whole lot about me that screams fun.” The cadence of his monotone depressed him even more than before, but it was the truth. Fun was something that didn’t exactly jive well with his broody angst.
“You’re exactly what I’m looking for.” He connected with her gaze then, and she smiled even wider. “Come on. If nothing else, I’ll show you a hell of a good time, and then you can go home and pout there. If you’re going to be with me, you’re going to have to lighten up!” She stood and ran her fingers up his arm to his shoulders, where she quickly squeezed the painful tension in his muscles.
“Mmm…first issue. We must have this all loosened up.” She ran her long fingers down the length of his trapezius muscle, kneading into the flesh with gentle swirls. He felt his head loll slightly to the side and the brief lapse of control was jarring to his senses. The gentleness of her strokes faded away quickly as she set to work on the massive knots tangled in the tight muscles.
“Holy shit!” he cursed, inching away from her touch. “That hurts!”
“Well of course it does! How am I supposed to release this tension if you won’t let me get to the real root of the problem! Now if you’ll just let me—“
“Your friends are over there, and I really think that it’s best if you would just leave.”
“Not a chance. Come on, let’s dance!”
And before he truly grasped the reality of the situation, he was pulled to his aching feet, his hand firmly encased in hers. The lights from the ceiling flickered around them as she grinned and slipped his hand around her waist. She began to move, slowly at first. He glanced stupidly at his two left feet, unable to find the beat and angry that he had been dragged out there in the first place. He tried to break free from her grasp but she held him tighter, swaying back and forth as she flipped her hair and laughed wildly.
“You have to loosen up, Scorpius. You can’t have fun all stiff like you are.” She spun gracefully in the light, releasing him for only a second before brushing up against him once more. She was beautiful, no doubt about it, but he felt naked under the light and uncomfortable in the glares of the jealous men lining the room. This was not a situation that he normally allowed himself to be thrust into, and as the song swept into its final chords, he brushed her away with a small smile and an insincere apology, and made his way back to his favorite bar stool. She stayed on the floor after that, consumed by the overwhelming desire to dance, and he was happy for it.
He wasn’t into that scene. All he wanted was a few more drinks, just enough to make him forget briefly about the shit life he was leading. A few times he glanced in their direction, but it was nothing more than a fleeting thought, as she’d found herself a different bloke to fondle.
Anna, with her whispy dark chocolate hair, would never be as flashy and pushy as this girl who sparkled radiantly as she danced. Anna would have sat loyally beside him at the bar, with her long bony fingers folded chastely in front of her. She would have spoken of the latest articles in the Daily Prophet, criticizing the Ministry for their lack of attention to social issues and their ridiculous conservative stance on fiscal issues. Her words would have been soft but firm as she guided the drink from his hand and implored they depart immediately because she was tired after working all day. She was always so damn tired.
That was his Anna, the Anna he had dated for over two years. What had changed? Because that certainly wasn’t how she had acted when she’d found those other men. All four of them. Scorpius suddenly realized that the entire life he had led with her was a cruel falsehood. What a stupid, sadistic, awful woman. She was nothing more than a lying, four-timing, life ruining…
“Bitch!” Scorpius spat the word out loud, relishing the delicious feeling as it slipped off his tongue. Their entire life had been a façade! And this girl, the one who twirled and laughed with her friends, was basically the exact opposite of Anna. The anti-Anna.
God, he needed Rose all of a sudden. He needed her with all the fervor of all the other men in the room, except it wasn’t a desire for a quick roll in the bedroom. No, he needed her. He ached to feel the curve of her hips and the softness of her flushed skin, to lay her down against the soft pillows of his bed and make her understand that there was no one else in this world who would ever meld with him more perfectly than her.
He wanted to be reckless. And damn it if all of a sudden she was the hottest thing he had ever seen. If that made him a stereotypical man, no better than anyone else in the room, he didn’t care. He had to have her.
Scorpius threw back the rest of his drink and vacated his trusty stool, making his way back onto the dance floor. He could feel the change in his countenance and felt himself stand completely straight. When she saw him, her eyes buzzed with excitement and her dazzling smile widened.
“Hey, Scorpius! Are you back for another round? I think I could really do something to help you—“ He cut her off then, grabbing her right hand and twirling her quickly so that her back was to his. The skills that had failed him so miserably earlier emerged with force as he dropped her back and then twirled her around to face him.
“Wo-ow! Where have you been all my life? And where was all this earlier?” She slurred, matching the intensity of his frenzied motions.
“I had a bit of an epiphany,” he shouted over the music, “and I’ve decided to give this a chance.”
For the next two hours, they were enveloped in a synchronized hurricane of heated seduction, each dance more sweltering than the last, until every man in the room had grudgingly admitted defeat and moved to her friends.
“I’m thirsty! I think I need some water!” She shouted as the song ended, and he nodded, breathless. Feeling particularly vindicated, he followed her back to the bar, unfazed by the eyes watching them. The alcohol that had swam gloriously through his veins not thirty minutes ago was gone, and he was sober.
Scorpius felt amazing. Rose had so much energy, he had no idea where she kept it all. She was a sweet girl, the daughter of war heroes Ron and Hermione Weasley. As a child, she had heard horror stories about the Malfoy family, which was common place now around the wizarding world. As such, she steered clear of him during their school days. However, as he learned gradually throughout the night, he seemed like glorious forbidden fruit, and she wanted a bite.
It was no surprise to either of them when somehow they ended up on the street in the cold, his jacket draped casually over her bare shoulders. And then they ended up at his London flat, chattering non-stop about their similarities and differences, and the peculiar stigmas associated with being the niece of Harry Potter and the daughter of Ronald Weasley.
“You know, I was a little wasted tonight,” she laughed quietly, a flash of seriousness in her tone. “I don’t usually get like that; I’m not trashy, I swear. I’m just tired of being Rose Weasley, the little girl who always does right because it’s what her Daddy tells her to do. I want to be adventurous, I want to have a good time, I want to experience life for myself.”
Scorpius nodded solemnly. “I’m tired of being known as Scorpius Malfoy, the son of Draco and grandson of Lucius, who is doomed to a life of debauchery and crime because that’s what’s come before him. Honestly, my father isn’t that bad of a guy, but it’s just too late for me, I guess.” He examined the calluses on his hands as she stood from the chair across the room and joined him on the sofa. Her fingers danced lightly across the back of his neck, making the hairs stand on end.
“You’re not going to give me another massage, are you? I don’t know that I could take it right now,” he laughed.
His breath caught painfully in his throat as he felt the softness of her lips on the spot where her fingers had once been, trailing down toward the collar of his shirt. His eyes fluttered closed as she experimented with his tolerance, running a manicured nail down the side of his right arm as she brought her kisses toward his ear and back down to his collar bone.
“Rose.” It was a strained whisper against the stir threatening to ruin his composure. “I can’t take advantage of you, we should not do this.”
“Sssshhh,” was her reply, as she moved to his adam’s apple and travelled superiorly to his lips, taking her time to tease him until a strangled moan regretfully escaped. Once she had elicited this from him, she sought his lips once more and moved her small frame closer. Suddenly her fingers were tangled in his hair and she was lost in him because he was all that mattered. His hands roamed across the softness of her abdomen as he gently lifted her shirt over her head and discarded it. She was perfect, a firefly against the darkness of the black sky. She radiated and she was the only thing he could see, the only thing he could remember.
Her scent was intoxicating and he was lost again.
She wrapped her long legs around his waist and he stood from the couch, carrying her to his chambers. She was a wild animal, savagely devouring him. She was an angel, sent to save him from the depths of his own hellish soul.
She climbed off of him for only a brief moment, long enough to push him forcefully against the wall and make him wish he’d started dancing with her long before he’d finally made his choice.
“Rose,” he breathed, taking a fistful of her hair as she explored. And then it was to the bed. Their pace changed; rather than a quick animalistic maelstrom, it was slow and sweet. She was pure honey, glistening beneath him as he took her in. The curve of her hips, just as he’d imagined, her soft sigh a symphony to his ears, her hair splayed on the pillows, painting them auburn.
There was nothing but her, and as they moved together, unified in their passion, he was consumed with a happiness that had not spread through him in years. And when she soared to the pinnacle, crying his name loudly as she writhed, he was pleased, and he joined her there.
After their passion had been satiated, and they had exchanged thoughts and drifted to sleep, he was complete. In the morning, she was still there, warm against his bare skin. The cold indentation was gone, and she slept peacefully, in a place where he never imagined there would be peace again.
A/N Hi guys! Whoo! This was steamy! This story was written for JLHufflepuff's "Said is Dead!" challenge, and let me tell you, that was a very difficult feat to accomplish! I loved every minute of it and I hope you did too!! There are definitely some people that I need to thank who made this story possible.
Keroberros: She was amazing! She made the beautiful banner, helped me come up with a title and kept reassuring me along the way! Thanks so much girl!
PrincessPadfoot: She kept reading this and, again, reassuring me that it didn’t suck, so I’m so happy I had her to help me! She rocks!
This story is dedicated to daniel rydell, who coincidentally is not a member of this site. He got me unstuck in a place, and it was a conversation with him about fanfiction that really got me starting to write again, and he also rocks because through all the late night conversations and the crazy, I found out that he’s a great friend :)
Thanks again for reading my story, as always, pleeeaaaassse review!!!!
And don’t forget about the story seekers, over at HPPC. It needs your love!
Update 4/20/2011- Added this story to NGSeries "I Hate this pairing!" Challenge. Something fun and unique, I think!