Work Text:
The Auror Office was unusually quiet for a Friday evening. The kind of quiet that came before trouble.
Scorpius stood in front of the briefing board, sleeves rolled up, wand tapping against a stack of parchment as a flickering map hovered above the table. Bills of lading, coded shipment routes, and Ministry seals glowed faintly in the air.
“According to our intel,” he began, voice clipped and even, “Merrow’s shipment is coming in tonight. The potion’s a restricted stimulant—illegal in all seven departments, but profitable enough for him to risk it.”
Adrian Merrow, notorious for smuggling high-tier potions and ingredients, had been on their list for months, but they'd never managed to catch him in the act. The bastard was too cunning.
“He’s meeting a buyer at some point between eight and nine,” he flicked his wand, “here.” A small glowing image of a worn-out looking store appeared. The Blind Basilisk. Located beneath Diagon Alley, it had once been an apothecary, but now repurposed as a hub for various shady transactions.
Across the table, Rose Weasley leaned back in her chair, arms folded. “And you’re sure this isn’t just another one of your ‘intel’ cases where we chase shadows for six hours and end up arresting the wrong wizard?”
He shot her a sharp look. “That happened once.”
“Twice,” Archie Williams, Scorpius’s supposed best friend chimed in helpfully from his seat beside Daisy. “Technically three times, if you count the broom smuggler who turned out to be a Quidditch coach.”
“Thank you, Williams,” Scorpius said flatly.
Head Auror Grantham cleared his throat. A tall, stone-faced man with the emotional range of a statue, Grantham looked between them, expression unreadable. “Enough. We have a narrow window tonight, and this team is taking it.”
His gaze landed on Scorpius. “Malfoy, Weasley—you’ll trail Merrow into the apothecary and confirm the exchange. If you spot the buyer, mark them for identification. No confrontation until instructed.”
Scorpius froze mid-sentence. “Sir—uh—perhaps Weasley’s already assigned to the Finchley case? She might have—another briefing—”
Rose blinked at him. “No, I don’t.”
He cleared his throat, suddenly too still. “Right, but Williams and I could easily cover this one, and she—”
Grantham’s eyes narrowed. “Is there an issue with your assigned partner, Malfoy?”
Scorpius’s mouth opened, but he felt Rose’s glare on him, then closed it again. “…No, sir. Of course not.”
“Good,” Grantham said, expression unchanging. “Then it’s settled. Weasley, Malfoy follow Merrow. “Williams and Bennett,” he continued, “you’ll stay outside and monitor movement. Keep in communication via charm link. If anything goes sideways—”
“—we charge in heroically and save the day,” Archie finished with a grin.
Daisy elbowed him. “We stay alert and follow orders, you idiot.”
“Exactly,” Grantham said, tone perfectly dry. “Now, I expect professionalism from all of you. That includes you, Malfoy and Weasley. We cannot risk any kind of carelessness.”
Rose straightened. “Of course, Sir.”
Scorpius’s jaw tightened. “Understood.”
He turned on his heel. “Dismissed.”
Rose saw Scorpius in the cafeteria later, pouring himself coffee, and stalked towards him, arms crossed. “What the hell was that?”
He blinked, feigning innocence. “What was what?”
“Oh, don’t do that,” she snapped. “You tried to get me off the mission, Malfoy. Why? You think I'm not capable of handling this? That I'm going to screw it up?”
“Whoa, whoa—stop right there. That’s not what I said or meant at all.” Scorpius said, narrowing his eyes. “And I'm not dumb enough to think of you as incapable.”
“Then what did you mean?”
He hesitated, a bit too long, and she caught the faint flicker of tension in his jaw. “I just thought it might be... easier,” he said finally, tone strained. “You’ve been swamped with paperwork. Didn’t seem fair to pile another mission on you.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed. “Since when do you care about that?”
That landed. He looked away first, staring hard at his coffee. “Forget it, Weasley. It’s not a big deal.”
She gave a dry laugh. “Right. Not a big deal. You just went out of your way to try and avoid working with me.”
Her boots clicked sharply on the floor as she turned and stalked off toward her desk, muttering under her breath.
Scorpius exhaled slowly once she was gone, pressing his palm briefly against the table as if steadying himself. Archie appeared beside him a moment later, grinning.
“Real smooth, mate.”
“Shut up, Williams.”
Archie leaned on the counter with a grin. “You two are adorable when you’re pretending to hate each other.”
“Archie,” Daisy warned, “don’t start.”
But he was already whispering gleefully, “I’m calling it. This mission ends with them kissing.”
Scorpius nearly hexed him on the spot.
The night was damp and fog-laced, the Soho Square glowing faintly in the distance as the Ministry car hummed low against the curb.
Scorpius sat in the backseat, wand hovering above a faintly glowing charm map on the dashboard. Rose, Daisy, and Archie watched through the windshield as Adrian Merrow emerged from the shadows, briefcase in hand.
But instead of turning toward Diagon Alley, he crossed the street—straight to a sleek Muggle restaurant. A gold sign above the door shimmered faintly in the streetlight: Le Dorian.
Rose frowned. “What the hell is he doing?”
Scorpius leaned forward. “That’s… not the meeting point.”
Adrian stepped out of his car with a suitcase in his hand, and after him, a beautiful young woman got up behind him, and then together they disappeared into the restaurant.
Daisy peered over his shoulder, brow furrowed. “Maybe he’s early? Or maybe he just fancies dinner with his mistress first.”
Archie choked back a laugh. “Romantic criminal activity—classy.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Great. So what now? We can’t let him out of sight.”
“Which means,” Scorpius muttered, “we go in.”
Rose groaned. “Into that? Fuck. No one in there’s wearing robes.”
Without hesitation, she unfastened her badge and shrugged off her dark Auror cloak, tossing it into a bag. She had put on a decent thin white blouse with a knee-length black skirt, thank Merlin. The fancy restaurant probably wouldn't let her in if she had on her regular worn pair of jeans. She let her hair out from her knot and it fell over her shoulders in loose curls, catching the amber light from the street. She turned to Scorpius. “Alright. Do I look normal enough for a Muggle place?”
He went very still.
For a heartbeat too long, he just stared—jaw tight, throat working—but then he looked away sharply, muttering, “You look...um..weird.”
Rose scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Daisy, fighting back a grin, answered before he could. “You look fine, Weasley. Ignore him.” Then she looked squarely at Scorpius. “You too, Malfoy. Cloak off. Unless you want to draw every eye in there.”
“I do that regardless of what I'm wearing,” Scorpius’s sighed but obeyed, shrugging out of his robes. The black dress shirt underneath clung just enough to his broad shoulders to make Daisy smirk.
Archie whistled low. “Merlin’s beard, you two clean up nice. It’s like we’re undercover for GQ: Auror Edition.”
“Shut it,” Scorpius muttered, checking his wand holster one last time.
They climbed out of the car, blending with the Muggle crowd under the restaurant’s glowing sign. Rose didn't look at him even once as they crossed the street. The doors of Le Dorian swung open, and the scent of wine and candlelight drifted toward them.
The restaurant was softly lit, all dark wood and flickering candles. The scent of wine and roasted garlic hung in the air, far too elegant for an Auror stakeout. Scorpius’s eyes darted immediately toward the reception desk—Adrian Merrow stood there, a tall brunette at his side, one hand wrapped loosely around her waist. A black briefcase rested casually near his foot.
Rose and Scorpius slowed their pace, just a few steps behind.
“Looks like he’s having a date first,” Rose muttered under her breath.
Scorpius’s mouth twitched. “Romantic evening before illegal trading. Charming.”
Merrow and the woman followed the hostess down the corridor toward a back corner. Rose and Scorpius approached the desk next, trying to appear casual.
“Table for two, please,” Scorpius said lightly.
The hostess glanced at her parchment list and gave an apologetic smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, Sir, but there's nothing available. We’re fully booked for the evening.”
Before Scorpius could respond, Rose slipped her arm through his.
The movement was so sudden he nearly stumbled.
“Oh, that is so unfortunate. But please, it is a really important night,” Rose said sweetly, smile wide and bright. “It would mean so much to us. You see, Theo and I just got engaged, and this is where we had our first date. We were hoping to celebrate.”
Scorpius’s brain short-circuited for precisely two seconds.
Then he blinked, caught the flicker of suspicion on the hostess’s face, and recovered fast.
“Yes,” he said, his voice coming out a touch too deep, but then he smiled widely to match hers. “Yes, it’s true. This place is really special to Ella and me. I—uh—was too nervous to make a reservation because I wasn’t sure she’d say yes.”
Rose turned to him with an exaggerated gasp. “Awww, that is so sweet, darling.”
And then, before he could even think to brace for it, Rose wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his cheek.
Scorpius went rigid. Completely frozen.
Her lips were warm, just barely there, but it sent his thoughts spiraling into white noise.
When he finally exhaled, he forced a stiff smile toward the hostess. He could still feel the metallic tang of his own blood from where he'd bitten the inside of his cheek, a physical anchor he hadn't realized he'd needed.
The hostess practically melted. “Oh—how lovely! Congratulations, both of you. Please, give me just a moment. I'll have to find something for you two lovebirds.”
Scorpius practically gritted through his smile, “Lovebirds. Right.”
As soon as she disappeared toward the dining area, Rose let go of his arm and stepped back, expression sheepish. “Sorry about that,” she murmured. “I panicked.”
Scorpius adjusted his collar, pretending not to still feel the ghost of her lips on his skin. “It’s fine,” he said quietly. “It got us a table, didn’t it?”
Rose hesitated, as if surprised he wasn’t snapping at her. “Right. Yeah. Guess it did.”
They stood there in awkward silence for about a minute, avoiding each other’s eyes until the hostess returned, beaming.
“Good news!” she chirped. “We just had a last-minute cancellation. Booth by the back window—perfect for a romantic evening.”
Of course it was.
Rose managed a polite smile as they followed her across the room—straight to a table directly beside Merrow and his mysterious companion.
Scorpius exhaled, lowering himself into the booth, voice low. “Congratulations, Ella. We’re officially undercover.”
Rose arched a brow, smirking. “Don’t look so thrilled, Theo.”
Before heading over, Scorpius slipped the emerald ring off his finger and charmed it—sleek silver shifting into something slimmer, more delicate. When he handed it to her, Rose raised her brows.
He rolled his eyes. “Engaged women normally wear a ring, Weasley.”
She hesitated for a heartbeat, then took it without another word, sliding it onto her finger.
At the table beside Merrow and the woman, they’d barely sat down when the woman turned to them, smiling brightly. “You’re the newly engaged couple, aren’t you?”
Rose and Scorpius exchanged a glance, a silent, wordless conversation that lasted all of two seconds. Too easy, their eyes said.
Rose smiled sweetly. “Yes, that’s us. Just got engaged.”
The woman introduced herself with a lilting accent. “I’m Geneviève Duval.”
Merrow didn’t offer his real name, called himself “Mr. Rowan.” Rose and Scorpius shared a brief look, but didn’t react.
“Well,” Merrow said smoothly, “dinner’s on me tonight.” When Scorpius tried to decline, Merrow brushed him off saying it was no big deal.
Rose’s lips curved. “That’s very generous of you.”
Then Geneviève leaned forward eagerly. “So tell me—how did you two meet?”
Rose and Scorpius spoke at the same time.
“Through friends.” “At work.”
A beat of silence. The couple blinked at them, confused.
Rose laughed awkwardly. “—Work friends,” she added quickly, elbowing Scorpius under the table.
Geneviève giggled. “Oh, how lovely. May I see the ring?”
Rose held out her hand, and the woman gasped in delight. “It’s beautiful ! You chose well, monsieur. How did you know she was the one?”
Scorpius hesitated—then looked at Rose, gaze holding hers a little too long. “She’s the bravest and fiercest woman I know,” he said quietly. “She pushes me to be better, keeps me on my toes. What can I say, I've always loved a challenge.” He realized a little too late what he’d just said, when he saw how she was staring at him, and coughed lightly, eyes flicking away. “And… the fact that she hasn’t hexed me yet is probably a good sign,” he finished, voice dry.
Geneviève clasped her hands. “Ohh, that’s so romantic! And you, dear—how did you know?”
Rose met Scorpius’s eyes again, a small, wry smile tugging at her lips. “I knew when he was the first person I couldn’t predict,” she said softly. “Every argument, every comment from him annoyed the hell out of me— yet, he was the only one who didn’t bore me. And it turns out, now I can’t stand being anywhere else.”
Both of them mostly kept quiet after that.
The dinner dragged longer than Rose expected. She’d picked at her risotto, barely tasting a thing, too focused on Merrow’s every word—smooth, evasive, and wrapped in polite smiles. Geneviève, laughed too brightly, her hand always resting on his arm.
When dessert plates were cleared, Merrow slipped a small card toward her. “Would you be a dear and handle the bill, Geneviève? I should say hello to the chef—it’s been ages since I’ve been here.”
Geneviève rose immediately, gathering her purse. “Of course, darling.” She turned to Rose and Scorpius with a grin that was just this side of wicked. “Lovely meeting you both. Have fun on your honeymoon.”
Rose blinked, heat rising to her cheeks. “Oh—uh—thank you,” she stammered, managing a weak smile.
As soon as Geneviève disappeared toward the counter, Rose leaned closer. “He’s going to bolt, isn’t he?”
Scorpius’s jaw tightened. “Maybe he caught on to us.”
They slipped quietly out of their booth and followed him down the narrow corridor toward the back. The smell of roasted herbs grew stronger. Just before the swinging doors, Scorpius caught sight of Merrow chatting casually with the chef, shaking his hand like an old friend.
Rose frowned. “He’s not leaving.”
“No,” Scorpius muttered, “but if he sees us lurking here, he’ll start asking questions.”
And then—it happened. Merrow turned. His gaze swept down the corridor, sharp and curious, straight toward them.
Panic surged. No time to think.
Scorpius reached out, grabbed Rose by the waist, and pulled her hard against him. Her gasp barely left her throat before his lips were on hers.
For a moment—just a heartbeat—she froze. Then her fingers curled instinctively against his collar, and she kissed him back. The world went perfectly still: candlelight flickering through the glass panel of the kitchen door, the faint hum of jazz music from the dining room, and Scorpius’s steady heartbeat pressed against her.
When Merrow finally stepped closer, clearing his throat softly, they broke apart—breathless, flushed, and wide-eyed.
“I—uh—we were just—looking for somewhere... private,” Scorpius said, his usual composure cracking into awkwardness.
Merrow’s lips twitched into a knowing smile. “Of course. Young love. Congratulations again.” He brushed past them, utterly unsuspecting, and disappeared toward the main room.
The moment he was gone, Rose took a long step back, her voice sharp to cover the tremor. “Well. That was, um, really good thinking, Malfoy. Very professional of you.”
Scorpius smoothed his hair, forcing his face back into calm. “Yes. Absolutely. Professional. Only professional kissing.”
“Right,” she said, chin high, though her cheeks were still burning. “Nice work, Auror Malfoy.”
“Pleasure’s mine, Auror Weasley.”
They exited the restaurant without another word—both desperately pretending they hadn’t just blown their cover and their composure at the same time.
The car was too quiet.
Rose sat rigid in the back, eyes glued to the road. Scorpius’s jaw was set, hands gripping the edge of his seat like the leather had personally offended him.
Archie cleared his throat from the front seat. “Soo… everything’s fine?”
“PERFECT!” Rose chirped — much too loudly. Archie blinked. “You sure? Because you sound like you just swallowed a Fwooper.”
Scorpius sighed. “We kissed.”
The car went dead silent for exactly one second.
Then Archie practically jumped between the seats. “WHAT—how—WHEN?!”
Rose groaned. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?” Archie demanded, eyes wide with glee.
Scorpius pinched the bridge of his nose. “We were keeping our cover.”
“Cover from what, tongue deficiency?” Archie shot back.
From the driver's seat, Daisy rolled her eyes. “Merlin’s sake, Williams, it’s just a kiss. I'd only care if they actually shagged.”
Rose whipped around, cheeks flaming. “We did not!”
Scorpius muttered, “Obviously not.”
The tension snapped back into silence again — thick, awkward, unbearable.
Daisy rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s boring.”
Thankfully, before Rose could decide whether to hex her or crawl out the window, Merrow’s car slowed down ahead of them.
Scorpius leaned closer, instantly back in professional mode. “He’s stopping.”
They watched as Merrow parked near a narrow alley beside The Blind Basilisk, stepped out, and left his black suitcase inside a small storage shed. Instead of waiting, he locked it and started walking toward the opposite street.
Rose frowned. “He’s not meeting the buyer. He’s leaving the package for pickup.”
Daisy nodded sharply. “So it’s a relay handoff. We’ll miss them both if we’re not careful.”
Scorpius nodded, “We’ll stay here and wait for whoever collects it. You two tail Merrow—don’t lose him.”
Daisy started the car again. Scorpius and Rose opened their doors and stepped out, the cold evening air biting against their faces. The shed was just visible from the mouth of the alley.
Archie leaned out of the window with his usual grin, “Copy that. Oh, and Malfoy?”
Scorpius gave him a withering glare.
Archie smirked. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That leaves us no options.”
“Exactly.” Archie winked one last time before the car rolled away with a low hum, disappearing around the corner and leaving them side by side in the quiet street.
Scorpius adjusted his wand holster, avoiding her eyes, “Let’s take position.”
Rose nodded. “Right. Professional stakeout.”
It had been fifteen minutes since Daisy and Archie had driven off, and the only sound now was the low hum of distant city noise—Muggle traffic somewhere beyond the Alley’s edge, a cat knocking over a bin, the soft drip of water from a broken pipe nearby.
Rose shifted her weight from one foot to the other, wand in hand, eyes trained on the small shed. “How long d’you think he’ll take?” she whispered.
Scorpius glanced at his watch, then at the deserted street. “If this buyer’s got half a brain, he’s waiting to make sure Merrow’s clear before he picks up the goods.”
“Yeah, well, he’s waited long enough. My feet are falling asleep,” Rose muttered.
A pause. Then, after a few beats of silence, Scorpius said quietly, “We’re good, right?”
She turned, brow furrowed. “What?”
He cleared his throat. “You know. After the whole restaurant thing.”
“Oh.” Rose blinked. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”
He nodded too quickly. “Right. Just making sure. Wouldn’t want to, uh, compromise the mission or anything.”
She smirked. “So noble of you, Malfoy.”
Another silence settled. A chill breeze drifted through the alley, carrying the faint smell of old rain and brick dust. Scorpius folded his arms.
“You know what’s criminal?” he said suddenly.
Rose turned to him, wary. “What?”
“That we spent an hour in a restaurant and didn’t actually eat anything.”
She huffed a small laugh. “Tell me about it. I’m starving. Soon as this is done, I’m grabbing something on my way home.”
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Spicy takeout from Ming’s Dragonfire, The Schezuan Noodles, extra fire flakes, and that obscenely sweet chocolate milk you always hide behind the paperwork.”
Rose froze. “I—” Her lips parted slightly. “Yeah. That.”
He shrugged, eyes flicking away, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his mouth. “Lucky guess.”
“Right,” she murmured, still watching him with that half-puzzled, half-amused expression.
He opened his mouth to say something else—something about how he’d memorized that detail months ago—but before he could, Rose stiffened.
“Scorpius—”
“Hmm?”
“Shh,” she hissed, eyes narrowing. “Someone’s here.”
Across the street, a shadowed figure had appeared beside the shed. A man in a dark coat, glancing over his shoulder before kneeling to inspect the briefcase.
Scorpius followed her gaze instantly. “That’s our guy,” he murmured.
But before they could move, the man froze—his head turning sharply, eyes locking directly on the corner where they stood.
“Shit,” Rose muttered.
“What?” Scorpius whispered back.
“He saw us.”
“What? No, he couldn’t have—”
“Scorpius,” she hissed, “shut up!”
But he was still mumbling, trying to reason through a dozen different excuses. “If he thinks we’re watching him, he won’t pick—”
And that was when she stopped thinking entirely.
Without warning, Rose grabbed the front of his coat, yanked him down toward her, and kissed him.
It was supposed to be quick—just enough to make them look like a couple sneaking a moment in the shadows. But the second her lips met his, Scorpius froze... then responded instinctively.
His hands found her waist, fingers curling there, grounding himself in the only real thing in that moment—the warmth of her body, the taste of her lips, the tiny sound she made when he deepened it without meaning to.
The world went white for a heartbeat.
Then Rose broke away, breathless, eyes darting back toward the shed. The buyer had grabbed the briefcase and was walking briskly away.
“NOW!” she hissed, wrenching herself from Scorpius’s arms. She spun on her heel, wand raised. “Ministry Aurors! Stop right there!”
Scorpius blinked, trying to drag air back into his lungs, before snapping back to life. “Yes—right—under arrest!” he called, a little too loudly. “We’re Aurors!”
The man froze mid-step, clutching the briefcase, before turning to bolt down the opposite side of the alley.
Rose fired off a Stunning Spell that clipped his shoulder, sending the case tumbling to the cobblestones. Scorpius was at her side in an instant, wand still raised, pulse hammering.
They exchanged one long look, both breathing hard.
And then Rose exhaled shakily, lips still pink from the kiss. “Fucking finally.”
And as they walked toward the unconscious buyer and the fallen suitcase, both of them very deliberately avoided looking at each other, again. Merlin, this was getting repetitive.
The Auror Office was buzzing again by the time Rose and Scorpius returned. Papers shuffled, quills scratched, and a few tired groans echoed across the room as teams wrapped up their Friday night cases.
Archie and Daisy were already back. Daisy was filling out an incident report while Archie leaned dramatically against his desk, retelling the capture like it was some kind of action epic.
“—and then BAM, straight out of the shadows, I disarmed the bloke before he even blinked—”
“You tripped over a crate,” Daisy interrupted dryly, not looking up from her parchment.
“Details,” Archie said with a wave of his hand. “We still won.”
Rose rolled her eyes and dropped into her chair, pulling a pile of paperwork toward her. Scorpius followed, setting his wand aside and rubbing the back of his neck.
Across the room, Grantham’s office door was closed. That meant they’d have to wait for debriefing.
“So,” Archie said, eyes gleaming as he leaned forward, “you two caught the buyer, yeah? How’d that go?”
Rose didn’t look up. “Fine.”
Scorpius kept his tone perfectly even. “Textbook.”
“Textbook,” Archie repeated, grinning. “Right. Because that’s what you call it when two partners disappear behind a shed and—”
“Archie,” Daisy cut in, voice low but firm, “drop it.”
“But—”
“Now.”
Archie sighed dramatically and went back to doodling on his report, though his grin didn’t fade.
Rose exhaled, signing the last of her forms and passing them toward Scorpius without looking at him. “Here. You finish the witness statement.”
He took the parchment, his fingers brushing hers for half a second too long. “Thanks.”
A quiet pause stretched between them.
Finally, Scorpius cleared his throat. “So... we’re good? After all that?”
Rose looked up from her desk, brow slightly furrowed. “Why do you keep asking me that?”
“I just—” He shrugged, trying for casual but failing miserably. “We’ve had... odd missions before, but this one might take the cake.”
Her lips curved into a half-smile. “Yeah, I’d say fake engagement, dinner with a smuggler, and two strategically timed kisses make for an odd night.”
He coughed. “Exactly.”
Another pause.
Then she added, teasingly, “Don’t worry, Malfoy. I’m not about to file a harassment report over a little professional kissing.”
He nearly choked on air. “Glad to hear it.”
She leaned back in her chair, eyes glinting. “Though next time you might warn me before you decide to improvise.”
He gave a quiet huff of laughter. “You mean like you did?”
She tilted her head, mock-sweet. “Mine worked.”
His mouth quirked, that faint, reluctant smile she’d learned to recognize. “So did mine.”
For a moment, their eyes met across the desk—steady, unreadable, something sparking just beneath the surface.
Then Daisy stood abruptly, breaking the silence. “Grantham wants the final report in ten. Let’s go.”
Rose and Scorpius both looked away at the same time, clearing their throats, suddenly very busy collecting papers.
They had all come to celebrate closing the case with a few (or more) drinks. The pub was warm and hazy, filled with that late-night mix of laughter and exhaustion that always followed a good mission. Daisy was halfway through a story about her trainee years, Archie was slumped dramatically over the counter declaring he deserved a medal, and Rose couldn’t stop smiling at how normal it all felt again.
By the time the clock above the bar struck two, most of them had already left. Archie and Daisy stumbled off toward the Floo stations, still bickering about who had the better dueling stance. Rose stayed back to settle the tab—part habit, part distraction.
When she finally stepped outside, the night hit her like a wall. The air was sharp and damp, biting at her skin as a thin mist rolled across the cobblestones. She wrapped her arms around herself, teeth starting to chatter before she even reached the curb. And then she remembered.
Her cloak—that she had tossed in the Ministry car.
“Brilliant,” she muttered under her breath.
She was just about to turn back inside when she felt it—someone stepping close enough for her to feel the shift in the air. She turned, heart jumping slightly before she could stop it.
Scorpius.
He didn’t say a word. Just unclasped his cloak and, in one smooth movement, draped it over her shoulders.
The fabric was still warm from him, faintly smelling of something sharp and clean, just like him.
“Malfoy, I—”
“Not now, Weasley,” he said quietly, eyes fixed somewhere ahead.
The tone wasn’t sharp. It was low, tired, almost gentle.
So she didn’t argue.
They started walking, their footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestones. The streets were nearly empty now, Ministry lights flickering gold in the distance, the city folded in sleep.
For a while, neither spoke. The silence between them stretched—thick, aware, like both of them were afraid to breathe too loud in case it broke.
Finally, Rose couldn’t stand it anymore.
“This whole night’s been completely mad,” she said, laughing nervously. “The mission, the fake engagement, the kisses—it’s all—”
“Weird,” Scorpius murmured, voice low.
“Yes! Weird,” she echoed, smiling up at him. “Completely—”
But she never got to finish.
Because Scorpius had stopped walking, and when she turned, he was already looking at her — really looking at her. Like he—
He didn’t give her a second to breathe. His hand came up to her jaw, fingers brushing her skin like a question, and before she could even think of an answer, he pulled her in and kissed her.
It was nothing like before. No hesitation, no act. Just heat and motion and the sudden shock of wanting something she’d been pretending not to want for years.
The kiss was fierce — his mouth urgent against hers, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, tilting her head until she gasped against him, and the other lowering to her waist. She felt herself responding instinctively, fingers curling into his coat, feeling the silk lining of his Auror cloak still draped over her own shoulders, pulling him closer instead of pushing away.
The world seemed to fall away — the street, the cold, even the faint hum of Ministry wards in the distance. All she could feel was him. The warmth of his body pressing into hers, the faint scrape of his stubble against her skin, the taste of firewhisky still on his tongue. He tasted so good.
He deepened the kiss, and she let him — until it wasn’t clear who was chasing whom anymore. It was all teeth and breath and the kind of recklessness that came from being far too tired of pretending.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard, faces still inches apart. His thumb brushed her jaw, lingering like he didn’t want to let go. Rose’s pulse was thrumming so loud she could barely hear her own thoughts.
“Scorpius...” she whispered, not even sure what she was going to say next.
But he just looked at her, eyes darker than she’d ever seen.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The city seemed to have gone still — no wind, no sound but their uneven breathing.
Rose could still feel his lips against hers, the ghost of the kiss lingering like heat under her skin. Scorpius was the first to speak.
“I’ve had enough of pretending,” he said, voice low, rough, like he was dragging the words out from somewhere deep.
She blinked, still trying to find her breath.
He took a step closer — not menacing, but deliberate, the kind of closeness that made her heart trip over itself. “Pretending not to want you,” he said quietly. “Not to look at you every time you walk into a room. Not to think about you when I shouldn’t.”
Her throat went dry.
“And now that I know what it’s like to kiss you…” He exhaled shakily, his gaze flickering down to her mouth before finding her eyes again. “I don’t think I can stop.”
For a moment she just stared at him, heartbeat roaring in her ears. Then, because she was Rose Weasley and she refused to melt completely, her lips curved into a teasing smile.
“That sounds dangerously like a confession, Malfoy,” she said softly.
He gave a quiet laugh, one of those rare, unguarded ones, and stepped closer until their coats brushed. “Maybe it is,” he murmured. “Are you going to arrest me for it?”
“I might,” she said, tilting her her head, pretending to think. “You did break protocol at least five times tonight.”
“Worth it.”
The word came out so simply, so sincerely, that it knocked the breath out of her again.
She tried to say something clever, something to keep the moment from swallowing her whole, but before she could, his hand found her waist again, steady, sure and he kissed her once more, slower this time, like he wanted to memorize the taste of her.
When they broke apart, she whispered against his lips, “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
He smirked faintly. “Not with you.”
“Good,” she murmured, her voice warm and low. “Because it took you too bloody long to get here. You have a lot of lost time to make up for, Malfoy.”
Scorpius’s smirk widened, something dark and promising entering his eyes. He leaned down, his breath a warm whisper against her ear.
“I intend to,” he assured her. “In fact, my place is just two blocks away, so.. why don’t we start tonight?”