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Losing My Head by Erised

Format: Novella
Chapters: 2
Word Count: 4,248
Status: WIP

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Violence, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature

Genres: Fluff, Humor, Romance
Characters: Scorpius, Albus, James (II), Lily (II), Rose, OC
Pairings: Rose/Scorpius, Other Pairing

First Published: 05/03/2012
Last Chapter: 09/06/2012
Last Updated: 09/06/2012

Gorgeous banner by Contour @ tda!

Rose Weasley is threatened with the loss of her Head Girl position after just two weeks of having it. With her sarcasm, tenacious family and cutting wit, she even wonders why she got it in the first place. Perhaps the mysterious Scorpius Malfoy can show her why...

Chapter 1: 1 - Authority is a problem for me.
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That’s it. I’m done for. I’m bloody done for.

If I see any one of my cousins or stupid sibling right now I will scream. This has gone far enough.

I’d just gotten out of a particularly infuriating meeting with the headmaster Edgar Eldridge. The topic: my extended family. The reason: they’d gone a step too far this time. Hugo, Albus and Roxanne had charmed the suits of armour on the first floor to say rude words whenever someone walked past. Then Albus, who is the king of Taking Things Too Far, thought it would be hilariously funny to make said rude words get louder and louder until the poor suits were screaming at the top of their metal lungs. They didn’t have a chance.

I knew it was wrong, but I’d taken more than a blind eye to these goings on. In fifth year when James thought waltzing with the Giant Squid was a great idea? No sweat. When Fred and Albus, still a rather innocent boy, decided to nose dive off the top of the Astronomy Tower then let go of their brooms, who dealt with it? Me. Not to mention the countless times I’ve caught them all out and they’ve laughed in my faces when I told them to bugger off, claiming I’m “too cute” to boss them around.

I clearly have a problem with being authoritative.

It’s like Albus wanted them to be caught, honestly. Like one of those hopeless muggle programmes Mum watches sometimes when she thinks no one’s in. Well, this time just hoping someone else would deal with it, I was sent to the Headmaster’s office. Perhaps running in the opposite direction pretending I hadn’t seen anything wasn’t the slyest thing to do.

His words still rang in my ears. “Rose, you need to have a better control over your role as Head Girl otherwise I’m going to have to give it to someone else.”

Someone else being Head Girl? They’re better off choosing another boy, for God’s sake. All the other girls are as useless as a group of particularly extinct dodos. No, I am organised and I can speak well when needed. I just need to work on dishing out punishments. Simple, right?

Maybe I’ll just quit instead.

I sighed and stopped walking at the furious pace I was keeping up. It was hopeless. I would never manage to get a firm grip on all of my family, no matter how hard I tried. I should just go back to Eldridge’s office and quit right now.

At this point I saw Poppy bounding up to me, the mother of all grins lighting up her face. Poppy Beckett was someone I loved to bits but was quite akin to a puppy. You couldn’t ever be mean to her because she just wouldn’t understand and you’d feel terrible afterwards. People often teased her for her ginger hair which was so bright it made my auburn hair look jet bloody black, but she wouldn’t care because she loved it. Poppy was happy to the point of ridiculously annoying.

“Rose! Rose!” she cried as she catapulted to a halt, out of breath from running. Her arms jerked up into the air as she shouted “I’m in love!” What the hell?

“What the hell?” I spluttered, not quite believing it. Poppy had never mentioned a crush, let alone undying love for a boy at the school. Assuming it was a boy. You never knew with that girl.

Poppy stopped her twirling and cried, “Didn’t you hear me? I’m in love!”

“Yes, I bloomin’ heard you the first time. I just don’t understand! Where’s this all come from?!” I cried in exasperation. This needed to be quick, I had a date with the Headmaster. Not in a literal sense. Bad mental image.

Poppy took me by surprise when she looked at me very seriously. “I’ve been seeing someone for about a month. We met up in the summer loads and he’s just sent me an owl to meet me somewhere.” There was a mischevious glint in her eye that I didn’t like. “So, Rose, I’ll tell you who it is... if you tell me the password to the Ravenclaw common room.”

Bugger! This girl knew how to play dirty. My mouth fell open in shock and my eyes narrowed as Poppy stood before me with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. “Poppy, that is against the rules and you can’t know the password.”

“Then you’ll never know who my lover boy is!” her face had fallen and she’d widened her eyes in an attempt to look innocent and cute. It failed miserably and I suppressed a mean chuckle. She was right though – if there’s one thing Poppy knew about me it’s that I am curious to the point of insane and I really wanted to know who this guy was.
I stood there in two minds as Poppy looked at me expectantly before I sighed and gave in. Damn curiosity. My dad would rephrase that as ‘nosiness’. “Alright, the password is ‘Rowena’.”

Around ten years ago there used to be a different entry, a knocker, where the person had to answer a riddle to get in, but apparently the knocker retired to spend his days amongst the portraits of the seventh floor. A rather dreary group of philosophers replaced him, and they always argued amongst themselves and urged the Ravenclaws to participate in their debates. It’s a good thing the Ravenclaws need a password now, because I don’t think Poppy would have been able to answer a riddle in a million years. “Now-“

I didn’t get to finish my sentence because as soon as the password came out of my mouth Poppy went haring off towards the fifth floor. I gasped in outrage at having being tricked by a girl who thought a Levitating Charm was a type of biscuit. How dare she! And to her best friend!

I quickly followed her, watching her whip around corners as she hurtled through the empty corridors. Sunlight poured through the ancient windows making the air look thick with dust; it was a lovely late summer and everyone would have been outside enjoying it. Instead I was chasing a positively loony ginger with no regard for friendship or loyalty. Cow.

“Poppy!” I screamed down the corridor. She looked back at me with wide eyes for a split second before taking off once again. As I climbed yet another staircase in hot pursuit of my soon-to-be dead friend, I realised I was slowing down and out of breath. I probably hadn’t run for this long since first year. First years seem to run everywhere.
I just got to the tower and heard a very happy “Rowena!” being sung to the door as it swung open. I practically screamed the same at the door (it opened hastily) and scrambled through to see Poppy’s bright hair disappearing up to the sixth year boy’s dormitories.

“So she has a toy boy!” I wheezed to myself, gleefully cackling despite being doubled over in pain. No wonder she didn’t want to say! I’m going to rib her for days after this!
The ornate and regal Ravenclaw common room was devoid of human life, so I perched on a royal blue armchair and sat there, seething. How could I fall for Poppy’s now obvious trickery? It was just so wrong. Another reason why I should no longer be Head Girl.

“Why are you quitting as Head Girl?”

A voice from behind scared the life out of me as I started, turning round to see who it was. Scorpius Malfoy emerged from a hidden alcove full of books; he held one open between his fingers as he made himself known. I frowned. Scorpius Malfoy wasn’t exactly one of the most friendly people in the world, so why was he talking to me? Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him ask a question to anyone but a teacher.

Then I realised I must have been speaking aloud for him to have asked the question, and I went red. The Weasley genes at their best. “Well... I’m just quite bad at it apparently.” Scorpius was a prefect too, and many people were surprised he didn’t get Head Boy. Instead it went to some prick called Derek McLaggen who always goes on about his dad. Funny that he’s in Hufflepuff when his dad was a Gryffindor with my parents.

Perhaps it was because Scorpius was an absolute loner. I didn’t have anything against him, but there was a lot of prejudice around him and his family. The Ravenclaws don’t like him because he’s a Malfoy, and the Slytherins don’t like him because he’s a Ravenclaw. He kept to himself and preferred the company of books than people. Sounds like a good life to me, actually, considering the stunt Poppy just pulled.

“Well, it’s not model behaviour if you tell another Gryffindor our password.” He raised an eyebrow and I huffed, because it was most definitely true. I was still in fascination at the fact that he was talking, more than anything. Maybe I should film it.

I sighed, defeated. “I know. I didn’t think Poppy would trick me like she did.”

“Trust no one, then.”

How very philosophical of him. He’d obviously had a few rounds with the portrait guarding the Ravenclaws. “Erm, yes. I suppose.” I wanted to add that that wasn’t quite the right idea about friendship and human interaction in general, but after Poppy’s hideous betrayal of my trust he wasn’t far off the mark. Scorpius stared at me.

“You should stick at it, anyway. It’s only been two weeks.” I had to admit that the guy had a point. Two weeks wasn’t really enough to prove to myself that I can’t do it. A loud giggling from upstairs interrupted our enthralling conversation and I blushed deeper. “I’m sorry about my friend. She’s not going to live much longer though, so don’t mind her.”

He gave me the tiniest of smiles, the first I’d seen in years. “Don’t be. I’m sure they thought everyone was outside on a lovely day like this, although I think you’ll be waiting for a while.” He did another small smile. Someone call the press! “Speaking of which, you should probably get going before the Ravenclaws get back. See you later.” Scorpius Malfoy left without another word. I’d see him later? I’d rather not.

Never mind that, there were larger things at hand. Scorpius Malfoy had just had a conversation with a human being perhaps for the first time ever. Not only that, I was that person. Had the world gone mad today? First of all Poppy declares her love for a sixth year Ravenclaw who may or may not be clinically insane to like or go out with her, and then Scorpius Malfoy talks to something with a pulse. He’s usually busy skulking around looking moody. I honestly had nothing against him, he’s just so... mysterious. A lone wolf. A strange one.

Well, it didn’t matter now. He was gone and we’ll never speak again. I shall remember the moment as ‘when The Boy Who Doesn’t Speak, spoke’. I mean, he’s obviously not practiced at it. I felt like I was talking to Professor Binns.

Another giggle brought my out of my reverie. Lunch time was nearly over and the Ravenclaws would be heading back soon. I shouted up the stairs that Poppy was a dead woman when she came down and unceremoniously left. I’d throw her to the Ravenclaw dogs – God knows there’s a few – as my revenge. It was a shame no-one saw my dramatic exit. I needed a distraction to take my mind off of things – giving first years detentions should do the trick.

A/N: Hi! So this is my first attempt at anything remotely light-hearted, so if it's terrible or not so bad please tell me! Also, this fic is dedicated to marinahill/tell_me_what_the_truth_is and PenguinsWillReignSupreme as they have read this and deemed it tolerable. Hooray for that!


Chapter 2: 2 - Lies, deceit and compliments
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If I wanted to keep my Head Girl position, I needed a plan. A plan so revolutionary and cunning that even a Russian spy would bow down to me, praising my genius level intellect and stunning good looks to boot. His name would be Demitri, and he’d decide to leave his criminal life to live a filthy rich one with me in California, doing some modelling on the side and feeding me grapes.


I muttered a groan of frustration as I banged my head on the table in the library, giving Madam Thistlethwaite a coronary and frightening some first years. One visibly jumped back, her face alight with terror. Good. They needed corrupting. I glared at them and they scurried off, probably to discuss the new deranged Head Girl.

Poppy sat next to me, happily humming a tune whilst ignoring my outburst and doing her favourite pastime – colouring. I cleared my throat loudly to get her attention, which at the best times was hard to do. She eyed me warily.

“Why do you bother doing all this boring stuff, anyway?” she asked, sticking a crayon into her mouth thoughtfully. “It’s not worth all the hassle. You can colour with me instead.”

“No thanks,” I replied drily, eyeing her multi-coloured unicorn with distaste. I returned to the masses of paper in front of me, detailing all sorts of charts and lists that made my head spin. It was only a few days into the term, and I could already feel my stress levels rising to biblical proportions. I returned to my Russian spy fantasy, blocking out the incessant noises of concentration from Poppy.

Albus noisily scraping his chair across the floor shook me from my daydreams. He raised an eyebrow at me questioningly, and I realised I had drool unattractively making its way down my chin. I wiped it away, trying to look haughty and dignified. I failed miserably.

“Rose, what the hell is all this?” Albus enquired his voice disbelieving.

“This,” I replied haughtily, “Is my grand plan to keep you out of trouble for the rest of the year, you swine!” He snorted at my choice of insult, sounding like a pig. How apt.

“Good luck with that, Rosie. You’ll never be able to catch me and Hugo,” he said, winking devilishly. My eyes narrowed to slits in return. And to think the girls swooned over that smile? It just made me want to vomit. I flung myself back, huffing irritably.

“Eldridge threatened to take away my headship,” I muttered to the ground, crossing my arms like a small child and pouting. Albus struggled not to laugh until I silenced him with a death glare. With this, he adopted a mock-serious expression and leant forward.

“Rosie, Rosie, Rosie. Have you learnt nothing from me? The key to any teacher’s heart is to flatter them shamelessly. How do you think I’ve managed to get away with my entire school career? Lies, deceit and compliments.”

Hmm. He had a point.

“Plus,” he continued, seeing my resolve weaken, “it’s so easy to do that even you could do it.” He carefully avoided the quill I chucked at him, smirking.

“I remember the days when you were quiet and innocent,” I seethed, thinking back to our first year together when he was too nervous to get on the train. How times have changed. His pondering expression seemed to mirror my thoughts.

“Yes, but would you have it any other way?” he teased. “Wait, don’t answer that.” I rolled my eyes as Poppy finished her colouring with a flourish, grinning broadly at us. We both stared, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

“So all I need to do is... throw in a few compliments here and there?” I asked reservedly, getting back onto our conversation. Poppy had moved on to the next page and was scribbling away. Albus nodded wisely, looking smug that he’d convinced the Head Girl to follow his dark and twisted path.

“A compliment a day keeps the Eldridge away,” he sang, and took off running before I had time to get up and smack him round the head. “See ya, Rosie!” he called out as Madam Thistlethwaite cursed after him. Poppy looked at me with wide eyes.

“You gonna take his advice?” she asked. “I dunno if you should.”

“Why not? He’s avoided trouble somehow,” I replied with a shrug. “If he can do it, then I definitely can. I can!” I whined at Poppy’s disbelieving face. Honestly. If Albus and Hugo, my brother definitely not being the sharpest knife in the drawer could just swan about charming the pants off of teachers... why couldn’t I?

“Because you’re surly and uncharismatic?” Poppy said, seemingly answering my thoughts aloud. I hurled a fierce glare at her.

“That’s a big word for you Poppy, well done.”

“See what I mean? You’ll never do it!” she replied, frowning at my veiled insult. I laughed evilly to myself before realising that she was right. I was a snarky cow and proud of it; could this really go well?

“Well, it’s going to have to work. It’s the easy way out, after all. People don’t seem to find me intimidating, as much as I try, and if my Head Girl position isn’t secure then I’ll never be supreme leader.”

“All bite and no bark?” Poppy giggled, and I glared at her, which was soon becoming my permanent facial expression. With this I packed up my things, feeling a bounce in my step. I’d being turning into some sort of princess next! I quickly banished the thought of myself talking to woodland animals and dancing round with beautiful princes. “I’ll see you later, Pops.”

I left the library purposefully, my nose in the air and showing all the confidence and grace of a rock. Never mind. I’d wow the teachers with my razor-sharp wit and charm them so much that even Professor Flitwick would bow down to me.

I really had to stop thinking of people doing that.

Okay. I could do this. Operation Smooth Talker had begun after a big lunch. What? I needed my energy.

My next lesson was Ancient Runes, followed by Transfiguration. The usually bustling crowds I struggled to move through seemed to part like the Red Sea; I soon realised that it was because my purposeful stare was probably being mistaken for me wanting to murder someone. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. Or the first time I’ve wanted to murder someone.

Operation Smooth Talker was able to come into action far earlier than expected. I spotted Madame Devreau, the new Muggle Studies teacher, heading for her classroom along the corridor. She was a rather large woman, who always wore bright robes. I quickly faked a bright smile and made my way over to her.

“Afternoon, Madame Devreau!” I said jovially. Christ, this was tiring already. I didn’t know how positive people did it all the time! Madame Devreau gave me a slightly confused, but polite smile back. I had no reason to talk to her normally – I mean, Muggle Studies, really? Poppy took that one.

“Good afternoon, Miss Weasley,” she replied, noting my Head Girl badge which was pinned to my robes and newly polished. I’d gone to a special effort; usually I just shoved it in my bag and hoped everyone just remembered that I was supposed to be the most terrifying girl in the school. They usually did. “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to wish you a very nice day and that your wig looks excellent in this light!” I said cheerfully. Her mouth fell open, aghast, and a few students looked at me as if I were mad, tittering to themselves. My insides plummeted as I realised my mistake. I thought everyone knew she had a wig on! It was so obvious, the way it was falling to the side slightly.

“Miss Weasley, you will do well to remember your place as Head Girl!” Madame Devreau shrieked, and I cringed at the pitch of her voice, my cheeks flaming. She quickly hurried off, affronted as I stood there in shock. I was being nice, the stupid cow! Ugh. People clearly needed to learn to love themselves a bit more. Girl power, and all that.

Undeterred, I headed to my next class. The corridors were beginning to empty out a bit more, and I soon realised that I’d be late for Runes. Damn. Some flattery was unavoidable in this situation. I put on a sugary sweet smile as I reached the classroom door.

My teacher was Professor Reid, a weedy little man with greying everything and who looked like a small puff of air would blow him over. He looked up and raised an eyebrow, and I took a seat in the middle of the class whilst chirping “Sorry I’m late, Professor!” in my most sing-song voice. I ignored the weird stares I got from my classmates; Hufflepuffs were pricks anyway.

I beamed at Professor Reid, who merely sighed and turned back to his scribbling on the ancient chalkboard. I took notes dutifully and answered every question with a small flourish at the end, to the point where someone chucked a paper ball at my head and asked what kind of potion I was taking. I incinerated the paper ball in response.

The class ended and people began packing away. I finished in double quick time and shot to the front of the class. Professor Reid turned round slowly, and seemed to physically recoil from my mega-watt smile. I scanned his desk and saw a ratty old quill, which I transfigured into an apple. “Hi, Professor! I just wanted to say what a great lesson that was today. Ancient Runes really is fascinating,” I added, simpering for extra measure and offering him the juicy fruit. Professor Reid simply stared blankly at me, as if waiting for me to finish. How rude. I faltered. “I, err. Like your tank top. Lovely shade of grey. It matches your... eyebrows.”

Eyebrows? Eyebrows?

“Miss Weasley, that is my lucky quill that you have just transfigured into the one fruit I am allergic to,” Professor Reid wheezed, gasping and clutching his throat dramatically. I pulled back my offering in horror. “Even being in the same room as one is detrimental to my health. Baggins, please help me to the Hospital Wing!” he cried at the nearest bewildered student at the door, who helped him out of the room. The rest of the class looked at me as I quickly transfigured the quill back and bowled out of the classroom, my face like beetroot. Of all the allergies in the world!

Oh God. This was turning out to be an absolute disaster. I’d mortally offended one teacher and almost killed another. What next? I shook myself and willed my cheeks to return to a normal colour as I stalked through the halls to Transfiguration. So what if the other attempts of Operation Smooth Talker hadn’t worked? Third time’s a charm. I’d just been unlucky so far.

With renewed enthusiasm from my mini pep-talk and putting last lessons; unpleasant memory from my mind, I faced the task at hand. Professor Dannelley was not the kind of person who smiled in lessons or just smiled, ever. There were rumours going round that he’d killed a man before he was a Professor. I reckoned he was a secret teddy bear, and I was determined to bring that side out.

I arrived early, beaming at the Professor and meticulously unpacking all of my things. The Professor merely managed a stony faced glare in return as the rest of the students filed in, ready for another deathly silent and dull lesson with everyone’s least favourite teacher.

It was hard not to fall into a sleepy stupor in Professor Dannelley’s lessons, with all the incredibly hard NEWT work and his droning voice. I found myself daydreaming, returning to my Russian spy fantasy, with the slight modification of me dressed as a princess the entire time.

“Miss Weasley?” an icy voice called out. I shook myself awake to find the Professor staring down at me, drawing himself to his full height. I gulped. When Professor Dannelley got mad, he made a manticore look harmless. “Can I trouble you for an answer, or do I need to ask you again?”

“Uhh..” I offered stupidly, looking round desperately for a clue of what the hell he was on about. Suddenly, an idea came to me. Was it risky? Yes, but it might just work. Putting on my cheesiest grin, I began the stupidest conversation I have ever had in my life.

“Has anyone told you your robes are particularly fetching today, Professor?”

The room stilled, as if in shock. Professor Dannelley started to shake with rage, but in my moment of pure deliriousness, I pressed on.

“Your hair looks very nice today. Did you do something different with it?” my Cheshire cat grin began to fade as the Professor’s face went an unattractive puce colour. My confidence died as my voice came out as a squeak.

“You have beautiful eyes?”

“Detention, Miss Weasley!” he roared, as the class sat in shocked silence as he marched back to his desk, screaming that the class had written work for the remainder of the lesson.