A/N: Written for the SMRW Secret Santa back in 2010! Thought it was about time I re-posted over here. Enjoy xx

The German Persuasion

Rose Weasley is staring at Scorpius Malfoy.

This, in itself, is not an unusual occurrence. Rose Weasley has in fact been staring at Scorpius Malfoy for the best part of five years, but this time he isn't staring back.

This time, he is staring at her

Almost as soon as she arrived at Albus', under the guise of a flat-warming party for all the recent Hogwarts graduates, Rose was confronted by a sight she had never expected to see. The new girlfriend, Rose's replacement- clinging to his arm with all the elegance of a simpering jellyfish. And she's gorgeous, naturally. Chocolate brown hair, large doe eyes and a silky black dress that looks ridiculously out of place in Albus' poxy bedsit. Just his type of woman.

Rose feels a hurl coming on and forces herself through the throng of familiar faces, bursting out onto the balcony and startling Dominique who stares at her warily, fag in hand.

"Can I have one of those?" Rose heaves for air, eyes wide.

"You don't smoke-"

"Just give me!" She snatches at the packet. Dominique wrinkles her nose in annoyance but offers her a light. Rose inhales deeply and chokes on a coughing fit.

Dominique eyes her cousin carefully. It isn't often the young Miss Weasley is caught unawares, even less so that she lets the stress visibly show.

"Would this new habit of yours have anything to do with the walking Witch Weekly cover in there?"

Rose inhales again. The taste of tobacco is making her feel nauseous but she happens to know that Scorpius can't abide smoking. Or Dominique for that matter, whom Rose has just decided is going to be her new best friend.

"I've heard she's German," Dominique presses when Rose fails to meet her eye.

"I hate the Germans. Awful people."

"Don't you have a German pen-friend?"

"Yes, and her handwriting is atrocious," Rose hears her voice break and stifles a sob. This is ridiculous, she chides herself. After all, she had known it was well within the realm of possibility that Scorpius might move on first, but this...? Barely a month later and he's already bringing someone new to parties. One measly month after four and a half years.

Dominique watches quietly as Rose steadies herself against the railing, swiping at an incriminating tear as it streaks down one cheek.

"I don't understand," the strawberry-blonde asks at last. "I thought you left him? You can't still be in love with him, surely?"

"I did! And I'm not!" Rose exclaims loudly, shaking her head. Indeed, she had left him, and for several bloody good reasons too. Although right now, none of said reasons are springing forth to console her. "At least, I wasn't..."

The two girls are quiet for a moment. Rose stares down onto the dark street below and tries to pretend she isn't crying. Dominique finishes her cigarette and tries to pretend she can't hear her sniffling beside her.

"He proposed, you know?" Rose murmurs, almost inaudibly.

Dominique arches a sculptured eyebrow, "Merlin, what a git."

Rose almost manages a smile. "We're only twenty, I wasn't ready. He didn't seem to get it."

"Ah," Dominique is nodding, eyes aglow at the revelation.

Rose supposes it's been a hot topic over the Delacour-Weasley breakfast table; the sudden and mysterious break-up of the most notorious Hogwarts It-couple since Teddy and Victoire. After all, they do say the French love to gossip. It had been a puzzle to them all- their friends, cousins, parents. Although Rose hadn't been able to help but notice both their fathers seeming unduly pleased at their offspring's misery.

Scorpius and Rose. Rose and Scorpius. Ropius- Lily swears she overheard that once. They'd been set for life, but life had come too early and now it seemed, it was leaving them behind.

Rose takes a deep breath and shudders at the cold. She could do with a drink, but knows she shouldn't have one. She has a tendency to say silly things to even sillier people under the influence, and she imagines tonight could easily end in disaster.

She knew this party would be a test of her resolve. Scorpius and Al had been firm friends since second year Quidditch try-outs, of course he would be here. But had she reckoned on quite the emotional blow he was planning to deliver, Rose doubted she'd have had the strength to even make it out of bed this morning.

There was really only one thing left to do- avoid Scorpius like a blast-ended skrewt till she can find an opportunity to leave all together. And then drown her sorrows and get a spontaneous new hair cut - she's read somewhere that's what one does after heart-break.

She turns to put her escape plan into action but is beaten to the door by a kafuffle of limbs coming the other way. Scorpius and the German stumble out onto the balcony, giggling and entwined. Rose's stomach bottoms out.

"Sorry ladies," Scorpius looks up and feigns embarrassment. "Didn't think anyone was out here. Carmen just fancied some air."

He is wearing that easy, boyish grin of his, one arm still slipped around the German's waist.

He turns and looks at Rose dead on. "Evening, Rosie." The grin remains.

Rose who, until this moment, had been frozen to the spot, every nerve ending clenched to take the hit, is suddenly floored by a surge of emotion. It is a jumble of feeling; the flare of outrage is merely a prelude to the whitewash of undeniable hurt that soon follows. She knows her chest can't literally iache, she's in perfect health, and yet it does. Horribly so.

She ignores the throbbing of her rib-cage and the lump in her throat fighting a losing battle against the rising sobs, and pushes forward, scrambling past the lovebirds and back into the party. A muffled 'Oomph' behind her confirms that Dominique has socked him one. She's good at that.

Rose keeps moving; shoving her way through drunken, dancing crowds till the front door is in sight. Albus appears on her periphery, coming to intercept her with concern tattooed across his forehead, but she ploughs on until she finally breaks free.

She's got the wrong door and is standing at the top of a rusted fire escape but at least she's out and away from them all. She lets the cool air rattle through her, taking in deep gulps to try and steady her shaking fingers.

Scorpius and Carmen. Carmen and Scorpius. Carpius? Now that just sounds ridiculous, she tries to scoff between sobs as she eases herself over the railing. It has started to rain and the metal staircase is slippery, she's also begun to cry in earnest now and can't see a bloody thing and so it's really no surprise when she slips on a step and twists her ankle, badly.

"Oh, buggering Hell," she wails, crumpling against the side of the house as the last of her strength abandons her for the night.

She's been a fool. She knows that now. She's pushed away the only boy she's ever loved because he was willing to promise her something that, when it came down to it, she would have promised him too, one day.

And what exactly did she think would happen? That Scorpius would just wait around until she'd had enough of playing childish games? That she could stroll up to him in a year, two years time and expect him to get back down on one knee, no questions asked?

And now he's found this German, Carmelita, or whatever her name is. Rose lets out something between a whine and a snort. Who will no doubt marry him in a heartbeat just because of his money and his good looks – both of which he has more than his fair share- and not for any of the reasons he deserves to be married for.

Like the way he used to cut the crusts off of her toast, because he knows she's afraid they'll make her hair even more curly. Or that he would always pretend to forget their anniversary, before waking her up at one minute to midnight to surprise her with some elaborately thought-out gift. Not even the way he insists on leaving his boxer shorts on the radiator over night so that they're ready and warm for the morning.

She swipes at her salt-stained cheeks. The rain has begun to soak through her dress now, her dark red hair sticking to her neck in matted ringlets. She knows she should move, or else she'll have a wicked cold in the morning, not to mention that she's left her wand at home and her ankle could do with a Healing charm. She doesn't particularly fancy hobbling back upstairs in this state.

She hears the back door open above her, the clank of footsteps on the staircase and suddenly she is not alone.

"Please just go away," she has her eyes shut tight but she recognises the scent of his cologne.

"Why are you crying?"

"My ankle,"

"Let me guess. Left your wand at home again?" Scorpius fishes in his pocket for his own, she feels her ankle go warm and tingly for a second as the pain subsides. "Your dad's right, one of these days-"

"I don't want to talk about my dad, Malfoy," she snaps, ungratefully.

Scorpius merely raises an eyebrow at the use of his last name. "What do you want to talk about?"

Rose looks straight forward and shrugs. She doesn't know.

They sit in silence for a moment. The rain has subsided into a drizzle; the weather is almost as miserable as she feels. It seems strange to sit here beside him and behave so awkwardly. He is, in essence, the same. The same boy she sat beside through years of classes, held hands with on the Express, stole kisses from by the lake. But there is a defining difference now- he is no longer hers.

"You've left me behind, haven't you?" she murmurs at last. He looks up, surprised. "It's fine, obviously," she adds hastily, her pride ever-lurking, "I suppose I just didn't think it would happen so soon."

"You left me, Rose," he stresses softly. She nods quickly and sniffs back the remaining tears.

"I know. And it's good to see you're so happy. The German must really be something," she tries to laugh but it dies somewhere in her throat.

Scorpius is staring at her oddly. "Are you upset?"

"No! I just-" she shuts her mouth quickly. What does she have left to lose after all? "Pick me, Scorpius."

"What?"

She turns to face him, mascara streaks evident down both cheeks, eyes red and sore. "I know that I said I wasn't ready but if this is the alternative...," her tongue chases the right words. "You are the only one I'll ever want. So please don't choose her. Pick me, always pick me."

She takes a deep breath and looks up into bright blue eyes. Immediately she frowns, for he is grinning down at her like the flaming Cheshire Cat.

"Carmen isn't my girlfriend, Rose."

She blinks, slowly. "I don't understand."

He blushes, guiltily. "I guess I hoped that if I showed up here tonight with someone, you'd start to think that settling for me wasn't so bad after all." He traces a damp ringlet that has curled around her collar-bone. "I didn't leave you behind, Rose. I've just been waiting for you to catch up."

She stares at him, wide eyed, for a long moment, processing each word until they are enslaved to her memory. She is immediately struck by two urges: the first, to slide between his arms and reclaim all the parts of him she's so desperately missed. The second is to punch him square in the face.

In the end, she settles for both. And Scorpius doesn't even seem to mind.