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Rose was really beginning to question everything. This, of course, was normal when you were in your mid-twenties, but the specific part of everything that she was questioning was not.
She’d gotten a flat with Scorpius Malfoy shortly after starting to work at St Mungo’s, thinking that the schoolgirl crush she’d had on him at Hogwarts had gone away with time. Of course, she had been completely and utterly wrong about that. It didn’t help that Scorpius had become even more attractive since she had seen him in seventh year. He’d been a decent enough looking guy then, but he had since developed the ability to grow facial hair and stubble and that made him ridiculously hot.
Oh. And abs. Those too.
She hadn’t known about those until one day when she’d come home early from work sick to find him walking out of the bathroom after a shower, half naked with a towel wrapped around his waist.
That had been it for her. Naturally, Scorpius had seen the shellshocked expression on her face, had winked at her, and had thereafter forgotten to bring clean clothes to the bathroom with him when he showered.
Jerk.
A very large part of Rose was hoping that he had an ulterior motive beyond reducing her brain to gooey mush. She’d gotten used to spending some time each night being a deer caught in the headlights of very nice muscles when Scorpius (possibly unknowningly at the time) escalated things further.
“So, Rose,” he said one night, walking out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist as usual, “The Ministry is setting up a Friday night Quidditch league and my friends are thinking of putting in a team. You interested?”
Of course she was. She was just currently too busy staring to tell him that.
*
Getting back into Quidditch was a godsend for Rose, even when she ignored the fact that she was playing with Scorpius instead of against him as she had for seven years at Hogwarts. She had missed playing Quidditch, but had found that family games on Sundays just weren’t cutting it, and she wasn’t anywhere near good enough to play for one of the professional teams. She also liked the fact that the whole team would go out to a pub for Butterbeer after the game. It meant the chance to socialize, which she rarely got to do at work; the emergency wing of St Mungo’s was too hectic to allow her to have much time to chat with her coworkers.
Three months later, Rose had no idea how they got into the rhythm of sharing a bed after their Friday night Quidditch league match, but she was most certainly not going to complain about it. She suspected that it had stemmed from one week where they had both drank too much Butterbeer and had stumbled home to find that the heating spell that was cast over their flat had dissipated. They had been far too drunk to cast another one and so had (drunkenly) opted to share a bed to stay warm. Rose had now discovered that Scorpius was a human furnace and she had definitely taken advantage of it that night (and many nights since then, when she claimed to be cold and conveniently decided not to cast a warming spell).
Now, she decided, what did need to change was his annoying habit of wearing clothes while they were sharing a bed. She knew that it was out of respect for her and to avoid making her uncomfortable, but really now. It wasn’t like he needed them to stay warm or anything.
“Well,” she said one night as they sat in bed, eyeing him and the deliciously tight shirt he was wearing, “I do remember telling you not to roast for my sake. Don’t boil yourself because you think I’ll be uncomfortable seeing you shirtless or whatever.”
Scorpius raised his eyebrows, obligingly stripped his shirt off and tossed it in the corner, and said, “like this?”
She felt the weight of his gaze on her as she tried very unsuccessfully not to stare.
“Ah,” he said, grinning, “clearly you had another reason for wanting me to take my shirt off.”
“Well, yes,” she admitted.
He laughed, slipped into bed beside her, and turned off the light.
“Rude,” she informed him. “That was my view.”
He obligingly turned the light back on.
“Better?” he asked, smirking
“Yes,” she admitted.
He laughed again. “I thought so.”
*
They settled into a rhythm: play Quidditch, go out for Butterbeer with the rest of their team, act like nothing was out of the ordinary, and then go back to their flat and share a bed. At that point, that was all they did, although Rose was beginning to tell that Scorpius was gradually shifting more and more to her side of the bed and that there was more casual body contact between the two of them. It wasn’t just when Rose was stealing his body heat – he would sit right next to her on the couch in the living room and brushed against her in the hall. She was quite happy about it.
Things changed one night when they decided, on a whim, to go out for post-Quidditch Butterbeer alone. Just the two of them.
There was quite a lot of flirting going on that night. They went to a bar on the outskirts of Diagon Alley that was far quieter than the Leaky Cauldron and had much better food. It meant that they were actually able to hear their conversation, which was never possible in the Leaky on a Friday night.
“Well,” Rose said, finishing her Butterbeer, “I should probably stop there… I don’t want to get too drunk now.”
Scorpius raised his eyebrows. “One is enough to get you too drunk?” he said in disbelief. “Man, I guess you’re far more of a lightweight than I thought.”
Rose laughed. “It’s not, but I got stuck with the nine o’clock morning shift tomorrow and I would rather not get stuck being tired and hungover for that. It’s my first shift working solo.”
“Already?” Scorpius seemed surprised. “I thought Healers shadowed for far longer than six months before being let loose.”
Rose shrugged. “We’re supposed to shadow for a year. I dunno why I’m being let on my own now, on a Saturday of all days.”
“It’s because you’re smart enough that the Head Healer knows you’ll do a good job.” Scorpius stared at her, a tender look in his eyes. “It’s St. Mungo’s. They wouldn’t throw you into the deep end in the emergency department – on a Saturday, no less – if they thought you were going to royally fuck things up. You’ll be fine.” He turned and grabbed a menu from the next table over. “Want some food? Neither of us ate before Quidditch.”
She nodded and he ordered a large meat pie.
“How are things going at the Ministry?” Rose asked. They’d been so busy lately that the only time they’d really had to talk was during Quidditch, while they were drinking beer, or during the occasional times that they shared a bed.
Scorpius sighed. “Long.” He’d managed to secure a position at the Wizengamot – right out of Hogwarts, no less, which was very rare – and had been working as a junior prosecutor since. “I get stuck with handling all the minor crimes because I’m new, so right now I have a gazillion files of people stealing broomsticks from Quality Quidditch Supplies and stuff like that.” He took a drink of Butterbeer as an enormous meat pie arrived. “You sure I can’t talk you into a career change or anything? I could sure use some eye candy in the Wizengamot.” He gave Rose a very flirtatious smile. “The only other woman working there is my boss and I’m pretty sure she’s older than my grandmother.”
Rose pretended to think about it for a moment. “Or,” she said, grinning right back at Scorpius, “you could come join us in emergency. Aside from the fact that I would have myself some very nice eye candy, I’m sure the patients would love to have something nice to look at while they’re stuck in the waiting room because they fucked up a spell and sliced their hand off or something dumb.”
“People do that?” Scorpius seemed skeptical.
“You’ve never been to emergency, have you?” Rose asked. “Half of the people we see are there because they did something stupid and need us to undo it for them because they can’t.”
“Wow,” Scorpius mouthed. Rose laughed at his surprise and dug into the meat pie, which was delicious.
Rose was in the middle of telling Scorpius about some of the rather sillier cases she had dealt with in the past week when the pub owner came over to let them know that they were closing soon. Rose supposed that they probably needed to go home in any case – it was past 11.
They took the pie home with them and Apparated home, landing in the middle of their living room. Rose looked at Scorpius. She felt exhausted. “Bedtime?”
“Bedtime,” Scorpius confirmed.
“Now,” Rose said when they once they had put the pie away and gone to Scorpius’s room, “are you going to be nice and give me my view?”
Scorpius pretended to pause and think about it for a second. “Well, yes,” he joked. “It’s really a no-brainer when you think about it. I don’t have to roast because I know you’re comfortable with me taking my shirt off, and you get a nice view. The main question,” he continued, taking off his shirt, “is whether you are going to give me a view. Is that something you’re comfortable with?
Rose smiled. “Oh, it definitely is. I’m just too much of a human icicle to do it regularly, even when sharing a bed with you.” She stripped off her shirt and pants and got into bed. “Now, I’m going to enjoy the view.” She grinned at Scorpius.
Scorpius grinned back and turned the light off.
“Hey!” Rose complained.
She felt his hand around her waist, pulling her to his side of the bed and into his chest. “I think,” he murmured into her ear, “that I can make up for your lack of view in other ways.”
“Hmmm,” she said back, “that was a pretty good view. You’d have to have something really good to make up for it.” She slid her hand down his back as close to his butt as she dared without asking further permission.
“Well,” Scorpius said, running a hand up her stomach and cupping a breast, “I’m really good in bed. Would that make up for your lack of view?”
“But are you really good in bed, though?” she asks him jokingly. “You’ll definitely have to show me. After all, you are holding the smaller boob and I was under the impression that most men don’t go for smaller boobs.”
“Maybe I like smaller things,” he said, the smirk audible in his voice.
“Well, I don’t,” Rose replied. She ran her hand in between his legs. “And clearly I won’t be disappointed.”
Scorpius ran his hand from her breast down to her waist while groaning as Rose toyed with him. “Do you want this?” he asked.
“Yes,” Rose breathed, grabbing his hand and dragging it down to her ass.
Somehow the rest of their clothes ended up on the floor in a giant heap; they were too interested in each other to care about making a mess. They were far more focused on making other kinds of messes.