Name Game (completed)

Chapter Nine

Author's Note: It's dedicated to SnowingMoon once again, because she just posted the epicest chapter in the history of the earth (and because she wouldn't stop nagging me to post it, but I won't dwell on that). SnowingMoon, here's your chapter.

Disclaimer: Jk Rowling owns Harry Potter. Just in case you didn't know. I mean, she's only the best-selling author IN THE WHOLE WORLD!

"I hate you."

"You don't mean that." Scorpius' face dropped.

“I do. I’m sorry Scorpius, but I do.” Rose was close tears.

 “But…” Scorpius trailed off.

 “It’s your fault.” Rose turned away, the tears rolling down her pale cheeks. Why did it have too be this way?

 “I’m sorry.”

 “I’m sorry too. It doesn’t make any difference.”

 “I thought…” Scorpius trailed off again. He couldn’t think of a way to express how he felt.

 “I trusted you.” The late sunlight, falling through her curtain of hair, cast red-tinted shadows on Rose cheeks. “If you’d just left it the way it was, we could still be friends.”

 “Really?” Scorpius was less certain. “I had to do it.”

 “No you didn’t. You could have left things the way they were.”

 “I couldn’t, Rosie. I don’t expect you to understand. You don’t feel the same way about me, that I feel about you.”

 “No.” Rose fell silent.

 “Thorn… Rose, please.” Scorpius was desperate.

 “But why? Why?”

 “I HAD to! Please. For God's sake, Rose, I'm begging you."

Rose raised a hand to her forehead. The result of the previous night's indulgences, had been a splitting headache, that had hung over her like an ominous storm cloud all day, and had distracted her thinking. She was certain that she would have to redo the failed attempt of a Potions essay.

"You knew I was drunk." She accused him.

Scorpius sighed.

"Yes, I did. But may I point out that you kissed me first. And you said you liked me." His was heavy with desperation, pleading.

"I was drunk, Scorpius. Yes, maybe I did encourage you. But you should have known better. Everyone knows now. My dad certainly didn't keep it quiet. He probably hates me now. And before you say that it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, it does matter, because like it or not, he's my dad and I do care what he thinks. And Al knows too. He'll TELL Ashley. Ashley will break up with me if he finds out."

"Why does it matter if that jealous idiot breaks up with you."

"Ashley isn't a jealous idiot. He's my boyfriend, Scorpius. Why is it so difficult for you too comprehend that?"

"Have you seen the way he looks at you whenever you talk to another boy. He's so jealous."

"You're the jealous one Scorpius. And I think you know that."

"Please Rose. I'm really sorry. Can't we just give friendship another chance?"

"Scorpius, you threw away all chance of friendship with both hands." Overcome the by her predicament and migraine, Rose collapsed onto the overgrown grass of the Burrow's back garden, and began to sob uncontrollably. A gnome ran over her to her and began to tug at her hair.

"Leave her be." Scorpius aimed a kick at the gnome. Rose swatted his foot away. 

"I think you should go to bed." Scorpius told Rose, as she sat tears pouring down her cheeks, choking on sobs.

Eventually Rose nodded and dragged herself into the house. Scorpius considered following her, but decided against it. He'd been avoiding Ron since the morning, and didn't want to walk straight into his arms. Grabbing a random broomstick (which turned out to be Roxanne's prized Golden Bullet, rather than his own modified Silver Arrow) from the spidery cupboard that stood in the yard, he quickly mounted and kicked off from the ground.

The usual rush of adrenaline and exhilaration coursed through his veins as he soared over the endless fields. Urging the broom faster and faster he swooped recklessly low through the muggle-inhabited village of Ottery St Catchpole. To his disappointment he was not spotted by any muggles. He would have been delighted by a confrontation.

He bent down low over the broom, the sharp wind blowing back his platinum blond hair. His grey eyes were intense, his brow was slightly furrowed, an expression he always adopted when chasing a snitch. He jerked sharply to the left, narrowly missing a large oak tree, that scraped the broomstick's tail twigs. Groaning to himself, he slowed the broom to a halt on twisted round to examine the damage. Three of the twigs had snapped off and were twirling to the ground. Whipping out his wand, Scorpius quickly performed the summoning charm and then "repairo" re-attaching the twigs. He looked at his work with admiration. If you peered really close at them, you could see where they'd been reattached, but it wasn't obvious to the naked eye. 

"It's okay, it's okay, Rosie." Ron hugged his daughter close to him, as she rocked back and forth, choking with sobs.

"Here, darling." Hermione handed her a cup of something warm. "It's de-cafinated coffee. I know you prefer it normal, but I think it's best if you go to bed soon and caffeine would just keep you awake. It's also the last thing that hangover needs." Hermione shot Rose a disapproving look. 

"Sorry, mum." Rose took a sip.

"Here, love, don't worry." Ron wiped a tear off her cheek, with the cuff of his maroon jumper. "That jumped up little death-eater will be gone soon."

Rose pushed his arm away.

"He's NOT a death-eater, dad. He's my best friend."

"Then why are you crying?" Ron looked confused.

"I don't know." Rose admitted.

"Rose, honey, why don't you go to bed?" It was Hermione who spoke, her calm logic defeating their emotional babble.

Rose nodded, too exhausted to protest. As she clambered drowsily into the warm bed, her mind drifted to Scorpius. Where was he now? Did he hate her? Would he ever speak to her again?