A/N: Sexy times. Or not. I own nothing. I'm currently on spring break, and my creativity is in bloom. Joy to the world!

Bloodline

"I've never been in Slytherin before," Rose whispers as Scorpius pops the last button on her shirt open, slides it smoothly over her shoulders. His hands are fluid, water in motion, as they move back up her arms, pulling her closer, tongue going into her mouth, kissing hard the way she likes it.

"Good," he murmurs against her lips. "That's another first I'm giving you."

She throws her arms around him. He can have it all, right here, right now…

But Scorpius laughs softly. "We'll get to that part, my beauty," he teases as he pulls away. She pouts, starts to object when he shushes her, kissing her collarbone. "You know I want to take my time with you," he murmurs. His tongue traces a path from her chin all the way down her throat. Her head falls back, a soft cry erupting from her lips. She is soaking wet between her legs. She wants him to touch her there, and feels ever the naughty girl that she would even think it. What would her mother say if she could see what she was doing right now, with the son of Draco Malfoy? Her father despised the entire family…

Rose forces her parents from her mind, concentrates instead on him. His hands and mouth all over her, yes, the way she always wanted him—all over her. Scorpius turns her on so much she can't stand it. Whatever he wanted, whatever he needed, all he would have to do was ask, and she would be willing and able. He's just so bloody confident and cool and so smart and so gorgeous- tall and blond and gorgeous, with electric green eyes that take her breath away.

His mouth is on hers again, his fingers squeezing her hips. "Do you know how much I want you, Rose?" he whispers fiercely against her skin. She's glad she bathed with the soap he's told her likes, the kind that smells of spring rain and field flowers. The soap is light green and there's only a small bit of it left. She'll have to get more soon.

"I want you, too," she replies, arms going back around his neck. He doesn't pull away this time.

Yes, I'll fuck him tonight.

Her cousins and her friends had lost their virginities long ago, one by one, like the creeping blight. Her brother probably had as well, though the thought made her gag to think about. Still, he was one of the more popular Fifth Years and he had been spending quite a bit of time with Allison Hutchinson. Allison always blushed furiously when she saw Rose around school, which Rose thought was a dead give away.

Rose herself had originally vowed to wait until marriage; but then around fourth year, Scorpius Malfoy returned from summer break, tall and built and tan. As a Fifth Year, he'd made the Slytherin Quidditch team as an alternate Seeker. Girls started flocking around him and he became slightly more arrogant. Yet, it hit her like a Hippogriff one day that it didn't matter he was Pureblood and only appeared to date Purebloods. It didn't matter her family despised everything his family stood for, that his family had once belonged to the sinister Death Eaters. Rose was hopelessly, helplessly attracted to him, on some level deep within. Of course she'd always noticed him, but Fourth Year, she'd had to acknowledge he was the one who made her heart skip a beat, he and he alone, over any other boy. Funny thing was, it wasn't long after the Seeker business and the giggling girls that Rose started catching him looking at her as well.

In class.

In the halls.

On the way to his Quidditch practice when he had on his gear and looked more handsome than ever.

Every time Rose caught Scorpius' eyes on her from his table in the Great Hall, in the midst of his Slytherin circle of friends, it made her weak in the knees.

For months, he said nothing to her. Then one day at the end of Herbology class, he pretended to search something in his bag, waiting until she walked by to suddenly step in the aisle, cutting her off. She bumped into him.

"Watch it, Weasley," he'd said the first two times.

"I don't know why he does it! It's like he wants me to knock into him!" Rose had confided in her best friend and cousin, who was much more confident in boys and dating and flirting. With a roll of her eyes, Roxanne Weasley huffed, "That's the whole point, Rose. He wants your attention. A blind wizard could see that!"

Imagine that, him going out of his way for her attention. Being so damn foolish about it. "Roxy, I don't know, he must know about our families—"

"Of course he does, who doesn't?"

"But he's only dated blond girls. I couldn't be his type, maybe there's something on my face—"

"Percalia Timmons has dyed purple hair and Isabell Bombart's hair is black and I know for a fact he's snogged them both. I believe he even shagged Isabell in the Prefect's bathroom, at least, that's what I heard."

"Isabell? I knew of Percalia, I had no idea about Isabell! Oh, this is ridiculous. I can't keep up, just forget it!" Rose groaned. Her stomach knotted up at the thought of him being with Isabell, doing things she could only imagine in the dark. Or maybe it had been light. She shuddered, hugging herself.

"You're more beautiful than all of them. Why do you think he's looking? Hell, he's been looking since First Year! Don't let him bump you again. Next time, make him apologize for it. Make him talk to you," Roxy prompted.

The next time Scorpius had tried his little trick, Rose had taken her cousin's advice. Putting her hands on her hips, she looked him boldly in his emerald green eyes, and to her credit, her voice came out calm and confident. "You're doing it on purpose. If you want to talk to me, just say hello."

He'd snickered, casually side stepping her. "I don't do anything on purpose," he'd said and walked away.

They kiss heavily, often getting tangled in her curtain of hair. Scorpius loves her long hair, loves the curves of her body, the depth of her solid blue eyes. He's told her before. Rose is aching with nothing but desire. She yearns for him, for his touch, for his kiss, and damn whether she's being used or not. She doesn't give a shite. He could use her up, the way he did Simone Treet last semester, Holly Pearl the semester before, Raven Lockington… the gods only knew how many others…

The weather has already started to change, so Scorpius wears two shirts, both of which he pulls over his head. She bites her lip shyly, traces the hard outline of his chest and stomach muscle with her finger. Why is he so damn beautiful? Gods, she never stood a chance against refusing him…

He's a Prefect, of course, so his room is his alone. They won't be disturbed, and besides, most of the students have gone off campus to Hogsmeade for a big Quidditch party, for Seventh Years only, which they are. The dorms are nearly empty. It's a nice enough evening, probably one of the last before winter sets in, and best of all, it's a Friday.

Scorpius grabs the fingers she is touching him with and pulls her closer. As soon as their mouths touch, his body is against hers, pressing her nearly bare back to the cold stone wall. He likes his bed against the wall. He told her once he can't fall asleep unless his face is almost touching it. Rose arches away from it with a little squeal and Scorpius laughs softly, grabbing her about the waist. "Sorry," he murmurs.

"You and your bloody wall," she teases. They tumble back into his soft blankets. Everything gray and green and white. He's as much a Slytherin as she is a Gryffindor.

He kisses her again, Rose moving to suck his lower lip. He groans, half with pain and half with pleasure, she knows. He always groans to the little nips she gives him, on his neck, his ear, his shoulder. She can't help it; she loves to bite him. His skin is so soft to be a boy, it's only right he should have bruises on it. From her. That way, whatever girl he may be going with will see and know she's hasn't got him to herself. Rose has him too. Scorpius hasn't stopped her as of late, which possibly is a good thing. It just may mean that she has him all to herself. So she makes sure to mark him up each and every time they have met up to do this, though they've never done that. They have been meeting up to do this and not that for three months now.

Rose decided he could have her the last time she was pressed against him in the back hall of the Astronomy Tower, humming with pleasure as he put his fingers inside her and moved them around until she saw stars, felt the blood rushing in her ears. When her eyes had finally fluttered opened, Scorpius had been watching her. "I want to make you do that with my cock," he'd whispered in her ear. "I want to be on top of you, inside you and watch you do that, just as you did now…"

She'd blushed but it was dark, so he didn't see. She had the cover of darkness to pretend she'd heard words like that every day.

Now, Scorpius' fingers reach behind her to snap the hooks of her bra off. It yields easily and then her breasts are bare.

He stops, looking at her. He says nothing. They are both breathing rapidly. She blinks, laying still. He can see it all, if he likes. Then he leans down, and they are kissing again, removing the rest of their clothing simultaneously. They get naked sooner than she'd thought, but it doesn't matter. She's here and here she's going to stay.

"I want to see you," he says softly to her. She nods, obeys, opening her legs to him, her hands at her sides. Her heart is a caged bird in her chest, yet she trusts him. Why, she hasn't a clue, but she does. He touches her again, and her face goes against the nearest pillow.

"You're sure I'm the first?" he asks her, turning her face back towards his. "Honest to the gods, you've never been with anyone?"

"I would never lie to you," she says tenderly, perhaps revealing too much, but she has no guard up around him. She is an open book, every word in his handwriting.

To her surprise, his eyes become sad.

He makes no more moves to touch her or kiss her.

"Scorpius?" She sits up, long hair covering her body like a shield. She puts a hand to his arm. His muscles are firm and warm under her fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Fuck me…" he curses, his hands going to his hair. "I-I-I can't." He turns quickly from her, grabs at the piles of clothing scattered about.

"What?" Rose tries not to shriek. "I don't understand…I thought we were going to do this, I thought you said you wanted to—" Rose says, her voice raw. She fumbles to get dressed because that's what he is doing now. She is confused and hurt. She swallows the lump in her throat, trying to calm herself. "So am I leaving?" Her vision suddenly blurs with tears.

"I'll walk you back," is his reply. He is fully dressed now, sitting on the edge of his giant poster bed and looking at his feet. Rose sucks in a breath, pulling her jumper over her head. Her lips are practically bruised, her panties are soaked, and he is taking her home. This wasn't what she had been expecting at all. She feels stupid, ashamed. He didn't want her. She'd turned him off. She wracked her brain trying to figure where it had all gone wrong. Should she have lied about being untouched? Did she smell strange?

"Ready, then?" he mutters, sliding off the bed.

Rose nods numbly, not knowing what else to do.

The walk back is excruciating. They don't speak, and he barely walks near her, though she has grown accustomed to that, as they have taken great pains to make sure no one knows they are involved at all. It would be such an unacceptable pairing, for the both of them, so Rose has told only Roxy what she has been doing and not doing with Scorpius. Roxy swore herself to secrecy by wand. Every finger on her left hand would break if she said a word, which was a clever binding spell by Rose, for Roxanne was left handed.

Nearly to the entrance of Gryffindor, he touches her arm lightly. "I'm sorry, Rose," is all he says.

Rose can't speak. She whips around, rushing into Gryffindor, flying up the steps and straight to her bed, tears of shame burning her eyelids. She lets out an exasperated scream that none but the walls hear.