Fate & Firewhiskey
Rose had lied, of course. She had absolutely nowhere to go.
Dom was visiting her sister in Southern France. Her other cousin Lily was a heavy sleeper and knocked out promptly at nine every night. Her brother Hugo... who knew what Hugo was doing or rather, who he was doing? She shook her head at the thought of his recklessness.
That left… Albus and her parents. She couldn’t just run home to her mother and father could she? She was nearly twenty-three! By wizard standards that’s more than old enough to take care of yourself. Plus, they loved Elliott. They’d probably be shocked or hurt. She’d already been avoiding them after the debacle in the press. And Albus? Well, he was not exactly on speaking terms with her. She rolled her eyes. Her rocky relationship with her cousin was certainly the last thing she wanted to think about.
That left the one place every stranded witch or wizard turned to.
It was snowing in late September. Even in her somber state she found this amusing. The wind was strong and so she buried her face deeper into the thick scarf, barely recognizable under there and the big furry hood of her coat.
At two thirty in the morning on a cold Wednesday night this part of Diagon Alley is practically a ghost town. There are no skimpy teenagers running around or drunken goblins. It’s deadly quiet and all she can hear is the slight crunch the snow makes with her every step.
That is, until, a snapped twig breaks the silence.
Rose quickly jumped, wand out and ready to disarm. She was certainly being followed and yet… only her own footsteps could be seen on the otherwise untouched blanket of white.
A lone street lamp flickered eerily above. The Leaky Cauldron was still a little ways further. She didn’t want to apparate as the Ministry would be alerted. Her friends within the MTSA (Department of Magical Transport Services & Apparitions) manned the channels. She didn’t want anyone at work the next day to ask why she was roaming the outskirts of London alone, at this hour, if not for some law enforcement assignment.
Gossip was heavy within the Ministry, and the last thing she needed was a rumor to reach Rita Skeeter. She could see the headlines now:
DAUGHTER OF ⅔ OF FAMOUS WIZARDING TRIO BREAKS HEART OF HEAD CAPTAIN OF FALMOUTH FALCONS.
It was pretty accurate.
Rose gritted her teeth. The sound was gone and no one was in sight, likely scared off.
She could hear faint music from a slight distance. Admitting defeat, she flipped on her heels and headed straight towards the sound. She was an Auror well equipped to take care of herself but tonight she wasn’t in the mood for anyone messing with her. Being in a public place would be a wise decision.
Soon she found herself inside The Potent Potion, a shabby wizarding pub that reeked of stale beer and piss.
‘Oh heartbreaker, you’ve charmed me and now my worlds are turning upside down…’
She immediately took a seat in the back, her cold weather gear still snuggled up and covering the majority of her face. The only people here this late were the bartender, a waitress, two patrons and a wandless busboy who was diligently trying to clean a stain off the floor without magic. It looked like blood.
The pair of men were sitting in the corner opposite hers. The dim lights, created solely for ambiance or perhaps a natural consequence of an overdue electricity bill, masked any features and their voices far too low to carry over the music. She couldn’t tell who they were but doubted that any reasonable person she knew would be out drinking at this hour. And here she was, as unreasonable as ever.
She pulled off a glove and shoved her wand back into her pocket. The waitress scurried over. A few drinks would be fine. After all, she needed it.
‘Won’t you kiss me softly underneath the full moon tonight…?’
She always liked this song.
The cups magically refilled themselves after every sip. She pulled up her scarf just enough to fit a drink under to reach her mouth, her face still kept warm by the rest of the knit.
She hadn’t done this in years, and embarrassingly enough, forgotten her threshold for intake was very very low. Soon Rose was burning up and inebriated. She hadn’t noticed that one of the men had made his way out of the pub and barely even looked her way. The other man still sat at the booth, eyeing her suspiciously from the corner.
Gods she was sweating. It was hot and the drinks kept coming. She felt her tummy growl. Did she even have dinner?
Okay, calm down Rose, she told herself. She hadn’t even thought of removing the bundles of clothing over her. That would probably help. She stripped back a few layers. All the while unbeknownst to a tipsy Rose the man was slowly making his way over to her.
She had her head leaned back and was staring up at the enchanted ceiling. The dark clouds that rolled across the fake night sky gave her motion sickness or maybe that was the firewhiskey. She willed her eyes shut so as not to vomit. Much better, she thought.
By the time Rose finally noticed the stranger it was far too late. Her eyes snapped open. The tall figure was reaching out and Rose’s blurry vision from her drunkenness got the best of her. Two slim fingers inched closer and closer to her face. Now was the time for a wand, she thought.
As her own hands wrapped tightly around the barrel, the man finally grasped her... scarf?
He pulled it back and out with his hands in one swift motion, releasing her unswept red hair.
She looked up and there stood the last person she had ever expected to run into…
He gently placed her scarf on the table in front of her and slowly slid into the booth. They say nothing for what seemed like an eternity but could only have been minutes. Rose stared, wide-eyed and for once in her life... entirely speechless. She pleaded with herself to remain calm, to not do anything rash or let her emotions get the best of her in public.
Finally, it’s him that breaks the deafening silence.
"You cut your hair," he said, softly.
That did it.
Rose stood up and with one quick move she slapped him hard across the face. She knew it stung. She had meant to hurt him. Her hand ached at the collision with his rigid cheekbone and she gripped her throbbing wrist.
So much for being rational.
His hand carefully reached up to rub the red mark she had left behind.
A sheepish grin creeped across his face, "Okay... that I probably deserve."
Even behind the grin, she could see he was shocked and a slight tinge of guilt washed over her. She felt like a toddler being scolded to keep her hands to herself.
Suddenly Rose wanted to be anywhere but here, anywhere but sitting at a random bar in the dead of night with none other than goddamn Scorpius Malfoy.
She sat back down with a loud thud and crossed her arms. At this point even the waitress was staring, clearly contemplating whether or not this little altercation would escalate to the point she’d have to intervene.
"So tell me, how was Romania?" She hissed, making no attempt to hide the bitterness in her tone. She tried to look anywhere but his eyes.
Rose had replayed an encounter with him in her head thousands of times, every single version ended with no words, just a slap and her walking right out of his life forever, the way he had done to her. Yet somehow… it didn't nearly feel as satisfying as she had hoped. She knew she should leave now but her legs had suddenly begun to feel quite heavy.
He bit his lip. "Look, Rose, I'm sorry, but you can't take this all out on me. I'm not the only one at fault here, okay? I tried to reach out to you. You ignored all my owls."
The nerve. She looked him straight in the eyes.
"What letters, Malfoy? And when were those letters sent exactly? At what point did you think it was time to let me know that you left or more importantly that you weren't coming back anytime soon? I recall straight silence, not a word to me or Al. We were worried sick. He may have forgiven you but don't expect that from me. We're barely even talking because he thinks I'm being “unfair” to you. As if I was the one who ran away like that.” She was heated. "You really are just like your father. Like every other no good Slyth-"
Too far, Rose, too far.
He gritted his teeth. "Oy, so that's what we're back too, huh? Funny how someone from a family of such “big morals” resorts to this level of petty ignorance the second they don't have their way. So fine, maybe I am pureblood trash or deatheater spawn or whatever you and every other fucking Gryffindor used to call me back then..."
Rose bit her lip with embarrassment. She had never called him those exact words herself but hadn't hesitated to choke down a laugh or stop others from doing it before they had become friends.
He leaned close to her. From here she could see the dark circles beneath his eyes. "...but let's get one thing straight, I didn’t 'run away'. I was offered a job, and I took it. I’m sure you understand considering you’d do anything for your career."
Now it was her to retaliate.
"You know damn well this isn't about relocating for some work thing,” She said, trying to blink back angry tears. "It's about taking a job and leaving without a single word. Leaving your best friend worried sick. Leaving me after...what you told me. Four years. Complete silence. I almost went to your parents for Merlin’s sake because I didn’t want to believe you’d just up and go. You know how we found out you were gone?"
He looked away, shaking his head.
"When Rita Skeeter printed a picture of you with two random women around you, vacationing in like Monaco or something. She said, and I quote: HEIR TO MALFOY MANOR WOULD MUCH RATHER RENDEZVOUS WITH VEELAS THAN ATTEND TO DEPARTMENT OF SECURITY DUTIES.”
It was only after she finished that the embarrassment of it all hit her. She had unknowingly memorized every word.
Malfoy looked back at her with a slight smile that quickly erupted into laughter.
"Keep your voice down!” she hissed, suddenly very aware of her surroundings. “Excuse me, I do believe we are in the middle of a long overdue argument at the moment?"
He continued laughing, even going as far as to grip his stomach as if in pain. She wouldn’t stand to be humiliated like this. This night was a train wreck. She rolled her eyes and stood to leave. Just as quickly he reached forward, pale fingers tightly wrapping around her wrist.
“Sit down, Rose,” he said, voice hoarse.
"Let go," she said coldly.
"No I'm-I'm sorry it's just that headline. Frankly, it's ridiculous. And so... detailed. I'm sorry I haven't had a good laugh in a long time." He began rubbing his jaw.
As angry as she was she could feel her cheeks twitching. She put her free hand up to her mouth to cover the smile that was slowly forming. "Okay, okay... I suppose it is a little funny." She bit her lip to hold back a giggle.
It’s then her mind fully registered the warmth of his hands. Instinctively, she pulled away and quickly sat back down.
He cleared his throat, regaining his composure.
"Right well anyway, you know of the Gringotts security leak from way back— what am I saying? Of course, you do."
She eyed him curiously. "That was like a year after graduation…duplicate keys of highly classified vaults were sold on the black market of Knockturn Alley, right?"
"The very one. The case was tied back to the husband of the new headmistress of Beauxbatons, that French school. We were stationed in Romania but assigned to investigate. I know the picture looked bad. You have to trust me. Those weren't random women. They're not even part veela. I don't know why every Brit assumes any French with blonde hair is one.”
Suddenly Ross felt embarrassed. He didn’t think she was jealous, did he?
“…they were with the foreign ministry and that school's version of Hogsmeade is basically the beach, hence what was interpreted as a vacation.”
This all sounded far too convenient, but she had in fact heard of that very case when her Uncle Harry was transferring to International Affairs. She just hadn’t know it was Scorp who was in charge of it.
“I never took you as one to believe anything the Prophet prints. As for why I didn’t explain myself well, that’s a much longer story,” He states with an exasperated sigh.
Her hand clamped up into a fist. So he too had seen last month's article, the entire exposé had called her out for “downright carelessness” (among other things) over that damn Auror Mission.
Rose shook her head. "Okay but that's not the point I was trying to make. What you said… nevermind."
She didn't want to bring that conversation up... not right now, at least. Instead they sat in silence trying to take in everything. A sort of relief washed over her as the atmosphere evolved from its earlier tension.
After what seemed like forever the waitress from the front walked over to them. "I don't mean to interrupt, you've both been rather entertaining tonight, but we're locking up.”
Rose's face reddened with embarrassment.
The majority of the lights were off and even the busboy was off snoring in a conjured up bed in the opposite corner.
As she sat up to gather her belongings Scorp made his way to the front and paid for her earlier shenanigans. She scowled at him on the way out,
"I'm sober enough now to take care of myself, you know."
“A simple thank you will suffice, Weasley”. He was walking backwards as he said it, shoulders braced against the door to hold it open.
“After you,” he said, looking at her expectantly.
With a sigh, she pulled her scarf around her and headed back out into the cold.