Father
July, 2023
Rose Weasley was lying on her bed, reading happily away, when the pebble hit her window.
And crashed directly through.
The sheepish voice, from the front lawn, said, "oops".
Rose braced herself, not daring to move; but neither did anything in the house. The night remained soundly asleep. She was safe. Exhaling, she flashed a grin out the window, slid the pane aside, threw her knee-high boots out onto the lawn, and shimmied down the drainpipe.
"Good work, mister Stealthy," she teased playfully as scooped up her boots from the lawn, took his hand in her own, and ran down the street toward the park.
When they were masked by the trees and able to slow to a stop, Scorpius shrugged and smiled. "I try." He snaked one hand around Rose's waist and pulled her into him until her lips were an inch from his own, her warm figure settling in against his toned form.
"Well," she said defiantly, her lop-sided smile giving no indication that he had just successfully made her insides turn into mush. "You fail."
Scorpius' eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "I do, do I?" He brought a slender finger up and lightly pushed aside a strand of hair, careful to outline her ear with his hand as he tucked it away. Rose shuddered in his arms despite herself.
"Often," she whispered, trying to recover.
"But not always," he prompted huskily, waggling his eyebrows.
"No," she admitted. "Not always." She leaned forward and crushed her lips against his, backing him up against a nearby tree—
And light flooded the park.
"That will quite suffice," came her father's stern voice from behind them.
Rose broke hurriedly away from Scorpius and stood in front of him, expression panicked. Ron stood behind them, brandishing his lit wand in front of him, the sleeves of his bathrobe rolled up. Hermione stood behind him, somehow managing to look both amused and concerned. "Dad," Rose began slowly, "I know you're not exactly great pals with the Malfoys, but—"
"Let me guess," Ron asked, lips pursed. "I've got the wrong idea about him."
Rose nodded once. "Yes."
"Mmm," Ron responded tersely. "Put your hands down, boy, you look ridiculous."
Scorpius, who had raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, let them fall to his sides. He continued to have the decency to look sheepish. "So," continued Ron, "if I've got the wrong idea, he hasn't been the cause of your delinquent behaviour, then?"
"Oh, Ron," began Hermione, but Rose beat her to it.
"Delinquent behaviour?" she began shrilly. "You mean leaving the house of my own accord when I'm sixteen years old isn't allowed?"
"Every night, Rose! Every night, all summer, you've shimmied down the drainpipe…"
Rose looked scandalized. "You've been watching me?"
"From the moment you got home I've known there's been something off about you," Ron said loudly. "Are you sleeping with this boy, Rose?"
Rose fumbled for words. "That is none of your—"
"No!" Scorpius piped up behind her, waving a hand. "No, no she's not. We're not. We wouldn't… and if we did, I mean, we'd be, ah, safe, you know, with—"
Rose turned and hit him in the chest to silence him. "If we were," she continued, "it would be none of your business."
Ron's face contorted with anger; Hermione took momentary advantage of his silence to step forward. "Rose, we're not angry with you."
"I daresay we are," Ron began, but Hermione held out a hand to silence him.
"We just wish you'd told us about Scorpius earlier, sweetheart, that's all. Why did you feel you had to sneak out of the house?"
Rose beckoned at her father, who had taken to pacing back and forth behind Hermione. "Why do you think?" she asked with despair. "We aren't doing anything bad, we just want to see each other over the summer. Most nights he comes to me; every other night, I go to him, and we scarper to a nearby park to avoid our fathers." Rose's voice broke; she swallowed against the lump in her throat, and Scorpius, now having regained his stealth, took her hand without Ron's noticing. "We've been dating since October. We're mad for each other, mum, absolutely mad. I would have told you if I'd thought dad would have been able to maturely handle the information."
Ron sighed heavily, but examined his daughter with a weary expression, now devoid of anger. Hermione nodded sympathetically. "All right, Rose. You're old enough to make your own decisions. I certainly have no problems with it, provided you assure me that you aren't going to sneak out of the house to see him anymore." Rose nodded and managed a shaky smile; soon both women were hugging and crying into each others' shoulders. Ron and Scorpius stood awkwardly aside.
"I treat her right, Mr. Weasley," Scorpius said after a while, still looking sheepish but staring Ron straight in the eye. "It's like Rose said; we're mad for each other. You didn't catch the right end of our relationship, I assure you…"
Ron held up a hand to silence Scorpius. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down several times; he opened up his mouth, closed it, and finally found words. "Why don't we all go back and have some tea and talk about it," he said tersely.
Scorpius nodded. "Sounds good," he said weakly, relieved that he hadn't been decapitated.
-
"That wasn't so bad," said Rose later as she lay comfortably in bed, nestled against Scorpius (with the door wide open).
"Mmm," Scorpius responded, perhaps thinking differently. "Now all that's left is having you meet my father…"
Rose and Scorpius exchanged a glance, and the subject was immediately dropped.