A/n: Here I am with another Scorpius and Rose story! This takes place approximately seven-eight years after they leave Hogwarts, so they are about 24-25 years old. Enjoy!

Edit: Quite a bit of you seemed a little confused on things, so I decided to mention that most of this story is in Rose's POV. So the narrations and descriptions are from her perspective. So read it from her point of view.

Disclaimer: I hereby declare that neither the Harry Potter series nor its canon-characters are mine. Everything belongs to our Queen, J. K. Rowling, and I am only writing this story for pleasure and not profit. All the non-canon characters and the non-canon storyline are mine.

Lithium

Rated: T (Certain chapters may have a PG-13 warning just in case.)

Genres: Romance/Hurt/Comfort and some mild angst.

Fandom: Harry Potter, Second Generation.

Ship: Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley.

Warning: Mild provocative language and content. To be read at reader's discretion.

"But after all these years of chasing after you, I finally caught up to you in the end, didn't I?" she asked. "No," he replied. "Because the one doing the chasing has always been me, and the one being chased has always been you."

Half a decade after leaving, he unexpectedly returns and completely shakes up her world in the way he always has: soft, but strong—like Lithium. A Scorpius and Rose story.

Chapter 1

Surprises

To her, he was someone she needed to surpass; someone who she pursued relentlessly without concern for anybody or anything. But somehow, no matter how high she reached, it was never high enough. He was always three steps ahead and by the time she reached him, he was already pulling farther and farther away. In every test, her perfect score was never perfect enough; every perfect potion she brewed was never perfect enough; every perfect spell she performed was never perfect enough; it was like he completely changed the very meaning of perfection in order to suit his needs and his accomplishments.

Sometimes she thought he did it on purpose, simply to spite her. That self-important smirk permanently plastered on his face, that expression of superiority he constantly wore, that demeanor of someone far above the rest that he constantly assumed, and last but not the least, those nail-biting, hair-tugging, blood-boiling comments that he threw in every which way.

All in all, he was someone she should probably have despised, but somewhere along the line, he had become her goal. He was her main aim in life and for her, surpassing him was something akin to attaining the forbidden fruit. She had chased after him year after year, persistently and without hesitation. And finally, at the very end, she had gotten what she had worked night and day for.

Her perfect score in the NEWTs beat his by one mark, giving her the liberty to choose the position of her choice in the Ministry of Magic. And of course, at that time it had seemed like a fantastic idea to pick the lone position that she knew he had spent much of his life working for. So she did. And eight years later, she was the youngest and only female head of the Department for Magical Research and Experimentation.

The Department for Magical Research and Experimentation was one of the departments added on after the Second Wizarding War, when the Ministry had finally realized the importance and usefulness of Muggle technology and had decided to experiment with them in order to modify them into contraptions that could be used by magical folk as well. Especially in the medical field, when it had been the Muggle doctors and hospitals that had saved more than half of the Wizarding population after the War.

It had initially been a small project taken up by a sub-department in the Department for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, as they seemed to be the only ones who were the least clueless about Muggle-related technology – which was saying something in itself – but was then made a full-fledged department due to its demand.

By the time the next generation was done schooling, the department had branched out to various other fields of research and experimentation and had one of the best facilities in the world, and witches and wizards from every nook and cranny interested in research and willing to make contributions in the field, came to Britain in order to prove their merit.

Due to the sheer size of it, the department had several subdivisions under two main divisions. Rose was head of both the Theoretical Division, i.e. the one that did all the research and came up with hypothetical scenarios and ran theories, and the Practical Division, i.e. the one that actually conducted the experiments that the researchers theorized to test their practicality and their usage; and unlike what the title entailed, her main job was to make sure that the whole of the department functioned smoothly and efficiently. It was much harder a task than it sounded, considering the most genius witches and wizards always seemed to be the most scatter brained and disoriented of the lot.

And although she had gotten exactly what she had wanted, instead of feeling a sense of accomplishment or victory, she felt nothing but a shallow sense of unease and restlessness. It wasn't that she disliked her job; she was excellent at it, and had been praised on more than one occasion for having the patience to handle everything so proficiently. But it made her edgy when she thought about the fact that she had only decided to take the job just so her nemesis didn't get it.

"—ose. Rose!"

She snapped her head up and eyed the only other female Head, who was in charge of the Theoretical Division, standing in front of her desk with pursed lips and crossed arms.

"You weren't listening to me. Again."

Rose shook her head, her usual apology already making its way out of her mouth before she could even think about saying it.

"I'm sorry, Renée, I was a little preoccupied—"

"Yes, I know. You were preoccupied. Again."

"Renée—"

"Don't you Renée me, Rose. This is the hundredth time this week that you've zoned out on me. Again."

"Yes, alright, I get it and I'm sorry."

"Let me guess, you were over thinking your position as H.O.D. Again."

"Will you please stop with the agains? And no, I was thinking about my latest case—"

"You don't have a latest case."

Rose pressed her lips together and stared up at her colleague and close friend. Renée Herington was the sole heir to the Herington estate and was one of Rose's oldest and most trusted friends since their years at Hogwarts. When Rose had informed Renée of her job in the Ministry, the latter had conveniently abandoned her responsibilities as the only successor to the Herington fortune and followed after Rose.

And now she stood before the redhead in her crisp, creaseless suit and her short, perfect brown hair, and exuded the same aristocratic demeanour as a certain other person she knew of.

"Yes, well, I was thinking about what Harold said—"

"Bollocks."

Rose sighed and massaged her temple as Renée walked behind her desk and stared at the Muggle coffee machine that Rose had installed there.

"This is exactly your problem, Rose. You and your unfathomable nuances that hold absolutely no intrinsic value." Renée pointed at the coffee machine and made a face. "Like this irritating Muggle contraption, for example. For what purpose do we need something that takes hours to brew a cup of coffee that is nowhere near the accepted standard, when we can just spell it into our cups in the first place?"

She flicked her wand and watched as steaming brown liquid poured out of the dispenser and into a quaint little teacup she held, steaming as it turned a dark brown.

"Well what about you then," Rose snapped, motioning to the teacup.

"What about me? You have a bone to pick with my teacup?"

"It's called a teacup for a reason."

Renée shrugged and sipped, sticking her pinky out. "Any self-respecting English woman drinks from a teacup," she declared with finality.

Rose rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to make a rebuttal, but just then there was a sharp knock on the glass door of their office and a messy blond head peeked into the room as he announced himself.

"Harold, the partition is made of glass. We can see you."

Harold shuffled in awkwardly and smiled sheepishly at Renée. "I was just—"

"Yes, yes, I know," Renée waved him off, as she leaned back onto her desk and picked up a sheaf of parchment in order to cut off any further communication between them. Harold shuffled upto Rose and placed the cardboard box he was holding on her desk.

"And this is," Rose prompted, when Harold didn't take the initiative to begin the explanation.

"Oh erm… it's a case file… Mister Wernicks wanted me to hand it directly to you."

"A case file? This is a whole box full of files," Rose stated, as she removed the lid and peered into the box.

"Er, yes, but apparently they're all important and—"

"Dump the box on his desk and ask Wernicks to shove it up his arse."

Harold stared at Renée wide-eyed and she returned the look with a bored expression.

"He can't keep throwing boxes of his work onto us just because his wife's driving him up the wall. Tell him to buy her some flowers and do his bloody work himself."

"B-But—"

"But nothing. Rose has enough work of her own. Don't you, Rose?"

Renée looked expectantly at the redhead and she smiled apologetically at the timid blond. "I actually do have a lot of work. I'm completely swamped and I would really appreciate it if you could tell Mister Wernicks so, Harold."

Harold had gone from pink to white to green in the few minutes they had been talking and he snatched the box from Rose's desk, mumbled something incomprehensive, walked face first into the glass partition, spilled the contents of the box everywhere, and after Renée put everything back into his hands with a flick of her wand, bustled away.

"You really don't have to be such a prick to him, you know. He's only doing what he's been told."

Renée rolled her eyes but only said, "I forgot to mention, your cousin's waiting downstairs."

Rose's mouth fell open and she stood up, smoothing her skirt down. "Al's here and you choose to tell me this after so long?"

"Well, I mentioned it before but you were busy ignoring me, so I decided a little punishment was due."

"Renée!"

Renée waved her off as Rose hurried out of the office and to the elevators. She made her way through the crowd and craned her head as she looked for her cousin. It wasn't all that difficult to spot him, what with his floating, white Healer's robes. She made a beeline toward him, her face splitting into a grin. He was turned away from her and his unkempt mane of hair was swiveling around as though looking for someone. She grabbed him from behind and when he yelped, she pulled back laughing.

"For Merlin's sake Rosie, stop doing that!"

"Won't," Rose replied childishly and he tugged at her hair with a mock frown.

She hugged him and grinned up at him and he shook his head with a sigh.

"What brings you here today, dear cousin? Did you miss me so much that you had to personally Apparate into my work place to see me?"

"Technically, you work ten floors below ground level, and you can't Apparate anything but personally," Albus replied and pursed his lips. Rose quirked an eyebrow.

"Then, why're you here if it's not to see me?"

"What, I can't come visit my other friends who work in the Ministry?"

"What other friends?"

But even as the words left her mouth, someone brushed past her and clapped Albus on the shoulder.

"You made it, mate! Good to see you!"

Her heart stilled momentarily and then resumed beating at double the speed. No matter how many years went by, she would never forget that voice. His voice.

"Oh," came the familiar drawl, as the man who had so rudely interrupted her conversation with her cousin half-turned toward her, as though only just noticing her. "Is that you, Rose Weasley?"

From where she was standing – which was on equal footing with him – she could only see his broad – very broad – shoulders right in front of her. She had to tilt her head up to finally get a glimpse of his face. And when she did, her breath caught and she thought she might start hyperventilating a minute from then, the way her heart was racing and her chest was convulsing.

"Scorpius," she squeaked and the blond simply raised a curious eyebrow at her, his trademark smirk tugging at his lips.

She did a slight double take when she saw him; he looked so different than she remembered. His shoulders were wider and broader, and although he had been much taller than her to begin with, he seemed to tower over her more than usual. His platinum blond hair was now a light, sandy blond, the colour of cream, and reached up to his shoulder blades. He'd tied it back with some sort of hand made hair tie, with shorter side locks framing his face. He wore a light grey shirt that clung to his shoulders the way clothes clung off people who did a lot of physical exercise to get the perfect body. He was wearing a jacket that looked like it had survived a lot of wear and tear, over dark jeans and tall hiking boots. She noticed that he wore leather gloves like the ones those lunatic Muggle bikers wore.

When she looked at his face, she noticed with some horror that his right ear was pierced three times and he wore a loop through the topmost piercing and a diamond stud in the bottommost. He also had two handmade necklaces around his neck, one made of what looked like intricately weaved Dragon hide and the other was leather with a large purplish fang dangling from it. He also wore some sort of chain link necklace, like the kind one saw holding back rabid dogs in Muggle pounds, except smaller.

She shivered lightly. She never knew five years could do so much to someone. His change in appearance was more of a shock to her at the moment than the fact that he was there in the flesh. Realising she had been quiet for an inappropriately long time – if the strange look Albus was giving her was any indication – she tapped her naked wrist in a way she'd often seen Muggles do, and said in a shrill, hurried voice, "Oh, goodness me, would you look at the time! I really must be getting back to work!"

And she all but turned tail and ran toward the elevators, blood pounding in her ears. By the time she had reached her office, she was hyperventilating and she leaned against the glass, taking in shallow breaths of air and trying to calm her racing heart down.

"Oh Merlin," Renée said as she helped Rose sit down and Conjured a glass of water. She shook her head, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Rose, what happened?"

"Y—you didn't tell me— he was back," she stammered, suddenly feeling cold. She glanced at the enchanted windows in their large office that the Magical Maintenance Department had installed. They had decided to make the enchanted view from the fake windows seem very windy and chilly with telltale signs of rain that day, but she was sure that had nothing to do with her shivering.

"You saw him?" Renée interrupted Rose from her daze and the latter snapped her eyes back to her friend's face.

"You told me Al was waiting for me!"

"No," Renée said slowly, as though gauging if she should take a step back from Rose in case the latter decided to suddenly pounce on her. "I only told you that he was waiting. I didn't mention for whom."

Rose's mouth fell open and she stared accusingly at Renée, who only shrugged. At least she had the sense to look uncomfortable, as she shifted and tucked a nonexistent strand of stray hair behind her ear.

"I really didn't mean for you to bump into him. You rushed off before I could say anything else and I thought the likelihood of you running into him was slightly more than coincidental."

"Renée, Al wasn't here for me, which meant he could be here for only two reasons, and the Aurors' Office is closed to visitors at this time of day."

Renée scrunched up her nose as though that had somehow skipped her mind and she shook her head lightly. "You're right, I should have told you he was back. I just wasn't sure, because I wasn't informed about his sudden departure from the Expedition. My bad."

Rose sighed and clutched her head, wondering if she should take a draught to dispel her slowly blooming headache.

"It doesn't matter," she said tiredly, but Renée didn't seem to take the hint to leave her alone.

But after a moment the brunette did say, "Even if you did run into him on pure coincidence, it shouldn't be shaking you up as much as it seems to have."

"Did you see him?" Rose snapped, glaring at her friend. Renée frowned but shook her head no. Rose stretched her arms out in an obviously exasperated gesture and said, "There you have it, then."

"What, did he lose a leg and is now walking around with a hook for a foot?"

The weak attempt at failed humour did exactly what it was meant not to do. Rose rubbed her temple in frustration and squeezed her eyes shut. When she ignored Renée's second attempt, the woman finally took the hint and slid back to her own desk. Rose sighed, suddenly exhausted. She reached into her drawer and pulled out the small vial of Calming draught she kept in her First Aid kit and took a swig from it. Everyone always made fun of her for having such Muggle habits, but she didn't care, because they definitely had their advantages.

Instantly feeling the relaxing effects of the potion, she leaned back in her swiveling chair and sighed, shutting her eyes and letting the draught do what it was meant to do. Ten minutes later, a sharp rap on the glass door interrupted her meditation. She kept her eyes shut, hoping her lack of acknowledgement would send whoever it was on their way, since she was in no mood to handle human contact, and Renée was out on her break. There was no more knocking, so Rose assumed that whoever it was had got the message and left her alone, but—

"If you don't want to be disturbed, it's customary to hang a Do Not Disturb sign outside your door, or at least change the partition to something less transparent. That way, people wouldn't be able to look through to your office and see that you're shirking your duties."

Rose hadn't heard more than the first few words, because she had jerked violently and jumped backwards, shrieking when her chair toppled over and left her sprawled very ungracefully on the floor. She groaned, rubbing her bottom, as her face turned furiously red. She hoped that if she sat on the floor for long enough, both her humiliation and the cause for it would go away, but apparently, today her luck had decided to have its way with her.

She looked up as Scorpius stretched a hand out to her over her desk, his eyes wide and glittering with laughter as he smirked down at her. She glared at his hand and stood up on her own, heaving herself by the edge of her desk and cursing her high-heeled shoes. Once she had upturned her chair and settled down behind her desk, she faced Scorpius with what she hoped was a look of indignation and clasped her hands together on the tabletop, if only to keep them from shaking.

Scorpius looked at her expectantly and she glared back, ignoring whatever silent message he was trying to communicate to her. Finally deciding she'd rather get over with whatever it was he wanted so she didn't have to stare into his liquid eyes for longer than necessary, she cleared her throat and sat up straight, tilting her chin up and looking at him with pursed lips.

"Yes?"

Scorpius glanced at the chair beside him longingly and when Rose scowled at him, daring him to sit down, he sighed slightly and nodded, placing his palms on her desk and leaning on them.

"I'm here to report to you of my safe and timely arrival from the Expedition."

"You weren't expected to arrive anywhere until the end of October," she snapped, her headache returning with renewed vigour.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she noticed with a jolt that it was split in two from a thin scar that ran vertically down it.

"Did I do something to offend you, Miss Weasley?"

Rose could've thrown her head back and laughed from being addressed as 'Miss Weasley' by Scorpius Malfoy, who, all her life, had made it a point to call her by her given name for the simple reason that it irritated her to no end.

"I wouldn't know what you are referring to, Mister Malfoy. Now, if you would please sign these documents and state the reason for your early arrival from the Expedition, as well as your regularly owled reports, or lack thereof, and the amount of financial losses sustained. Also, please collect the names and signature of every member of the Expedition Crew, the members who were in contact with the crew from the home department, as well as the names of the members who were part of the foreign department and submit the list to me as late as Wednesday evening."

She slid a sheaf of parchment across the desk and patted them expectantly when Scorpius continued to stare at her. He snorted and leaned forward, causing her to automatically retreat backwards.

"Wh-What," she blustered, conscious of how close he was. From that distance, she could see the flecks of blue in his wide silver eyes, and also her expression of panic and confusion reflected in them.

"That's better," he informed her, as he withdrew ever so slightly. She cleared her throat and frowned at him, hoping to communicate that she didn't like being made fun of, but she knew that he was already aware of that fact, if the past sixteen years were anything but constant examples of the same.

"The documents, Mister Malfoy," she said in a clipped tone, purposely raising the pinned sheets up and waving them in his face. Scorpius took the parchment without even glancing their way, his eyes still staring into hers with the same intense look of amusement that had always left her baffled and flustered at her inability to comprehend its hidden meaning.

She cleared her throat pointedly, even as she refused to be the one to break eye contact, a flush creeping up her neck. She had half a mind to undo her top button for the simple fact that her previous moment of cold had been reversed, and now the space around her was stifling.

After what seemed like ages, Scorpius began pulling back and Rose involuntarily sighed in relief and began to relax - only to be shocked out of her skin when Scorpius leaned back forward and brushed his lips against her cheek. Her scream came out as a weirdly strained gurgle in the back of her throat, as she stared wide-eyed at him, her heart in her mouth.

As though she hadn't reacted like she had just experienced something extremely traumatizing, Scorpius stood back and with a small smile, said, "It's good to see you, Rose."

The only sound that escaped her lips was a strangled wail of distress and Scorpius chuckled, waved the parchments and turning on his heel, strode out of her office. She sat staring at the spot where he had been and clutched the edge of her desk until Renée came bursting in with a, "Did I just see Scorpius Malfoy leave this office with the most self-important smirk in the history of self-important smirks after kissing you on the cheek?!"

Rose looked at Renée with a panicked expression, a helpless squeal escaping her lips. Renée strode up to her and whacked her on the head.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, get yourself together, woman."

Rose snapped her mouth shut and nodded obediently. The brunette eyed her for a moment and then whacked her head again for good measure.

"Hey!"

Seeing that Rose had regained the ability for speech, Renée rounded the desk and placing her hands on the armrests of Rose's chair, shook it.

"Tell me again why Scorpius Malfoy left this office with the most self-important smirk in the history of self-important smirks after kissing you on the cheek."

Rose groaned and bumped her head onto Renée's shoulder.

"I don't know," she wined. "He was making fun of me, I'm sure."

"It didn't look like it! What did he come in here for, anyway?!"

"He came to report his apparently timely arrival from the Expedition and I gave him the necessary documents and we had a staring competition and I thought I'd won when he started pulling back but then he took me by surprise and kissed me," Rose said hurriedly, the words all but tumbling out of her mouth like she couldn't hold them back for a second longer. She pulled back and gave Renée a pitiful look that the other woman pursed her lips at.

"That conniving wanker," Renée exclaimed in a voice that didn't sound the least bit disapproving. When she looked back at Rose, her eyes were gleaming with something Rose didn't recognize, but was sure didn't mean anything good.

"Well, I must say, he got one over us," Renée said amusedly as she leaned back against the shelf of low cupboards behind Rose's desk.

"Excuse me?"

Renée shrugged, and Rose could tell that she was trying very hard not to laugh.

"You can laugh, if you're finding it so highly amusing," Rose snapped irritatedly and the brunette burst out laughing, as she doubled over and shook for a whole minute. When she finally stood back up and wiped tears from her eyes, Rose glowered at her and kicked her in the shin.

"Come on, your reaction was priceless," the brunette chortled and Rose sniffed disdainfully as she turned back to her desk.

"Anyway, what I meant to say was, that you better buckle up girlie, because Scorpius Malfoy is back – Merlin only knows why – or he's going to take you for a ride and you won't even know what hit you."

"Probably the Hogwarts Express," Rose grumbled, sending Renée into another fit of laughter.

A/n: And there you have it! I was quite unsure about this story, but as it went along it surprised me with how intense and interesting a turn it took, so I decided to post this as a tribute to another year gone by and the celebration of another to come.

I decided to alter Scorpius's stereotypical slick appearance to a some what nonchalant one to show that he has a wilder side to him.

Please review, favorite and follow and make sure to tell me what you think! This story will be regularly updated every 5-6 days along with Every Rose Has Its Thorn. Again,y our opinions and views are very important, so let me know what you think!

Thanks for reading!

Love~

Love~