Name Game (completed)

Chapter Three

“Are they?” he asked. He was playing dumb deliberately so as to prolong her attention; it was evident to anyone that Rose had just come from bed.

“Of course they are – are you blind?” She rolled her eyes and ruffled his hair in a fond manner. “Merlin, you’re such a boy! I couldn’t possibly go out in this jumper – its only a dozen Reparo spells holding it together; I’m definitely looking forward to getting a new one this Christmas. Even so, the Weasley jumpers are for family eyes only.”

“Oh.” Scorpius looked at her clothes. “But you always let me see you in them...”

“Yes, but that point, Scorp,” Rose said pointedly, remembering what Roxanne had said the other day. “You’re my friend, you don’t count.”

Scorpius felt sinking feeling in his abdomen as she headed up to the girl’s dormitory, almost as though his stomach were descending into a hole without his body. It was good, he supposed, that Rose felt comfortable around him – but he couldn’t help hoping that one day she might want to impress him. He glanced down at himself, wondering if he ought to change; his own attire was even more casual than Rose’s; he was still wearing his striped pyjama shirt, albeit with jeans and a sweater pulled over it. Regardless he decided to head down to the Great Hall, despite it being hours too early for anyone to be there.

***

For the past half an hour, Scorpius had been engaged in the thoroughly absorbing act of spreading butter on a slice of toast. Having completed that task, he stared down at it for a few moments, before selecting a marmalade jar and carefully unscrewing the lid. As the early sunlight grew in strength some students began to filter into the Hall. Intent on his condiment-spreading, Scorpius barely noticed them, until a statuesque, and admittedly very attractive girl, slipped into the place next to him, tossing her carefully-styled dark hair, and sliding up along the bench, until she was so close he could feel the side of her left buttock and hip bone pressed up against his own.

If she was hoping he might ask her out, then she would be disappointed. So far as Scorpius was concerned, the day in Hogsmeade would involve sitting in the Three Broomsticks, hour after hour, drinking innumerable flagons of Butterbeer. He might even throw in the occasional trip to Honeydukes, to add a little variety.

“Hi Scorpius.”

Scorpius looked at the girl beside him. Her voice was low and throaty, perhaps even slightly sensual, although he may have imagine that from the manner in which she fluttered her eyelashes provocatively. He knew she was in his year, and Transfiguration class, and he had a strong inkling that she was Slytherin, but her identity remained a mystery to him. He scanned her face, which proved was devoid of all clues given the thickness of her makeup, then down her tight black jeans and long boots, running through mental lists of possible aliases. His eyes finally settled on her most distinctive features, around the neckline of her low-cut red t-shirt.

“Hi... Melanie,” he replied, with as much interest as he was able to muster. In the end it hadn’t been all that difficult to remember who she was. Melanie Walker was the most-mentioned name in any of the boys’ toilets around the school.

“Finally remembered my name, have you!” She laughed out loud, mouth wide open, revealing large white teeth, and hit him playfully on the shoulder. Scorpius resisted the urge to recoil, but his eyes were still fixed on her breasts.

He caught sight of two pimpled fifth-years staring enviously at him. He wandered why on earth they were languishing after a girl, who was a) older than them, and b) would clearly never even consider going out with either of them. He sighed as he realised he had now right to feel superior; Rose fell into both those categories – if only by a few weeks for the former.