"I don't like a gold rush"

I had just come in from studying in the courtyard, and was already longing to be back in the fresh air of early spring. Hogwarts was beloved to me, but I couldn't deny that the spacious internal halls and stone corridors felt suffocating when I knew how it felt to breathe in the rejuvenating scents of springtime outdoors. I was slowly climbing the last staircase to the seventh floor when I heard a voice behind me.

"Rose! Hey!"

The voice belonged to Albus Potter, and I knew that my cousin didn't often go around by himself. His companion would likely be a problem. I rolled my eyes and kept walking. If I could just make it to the common room—

A hand caught my shoulder just as I reached the top of the stairs, and I whirled around to glare at my cousin. "What on Earth do you want?" I said, perhaps a bit too tersely.

Al's face dropped, and his dark hair tumbled into his eyes. "I just came to ask you—"

I interrupted him with a scoff. "You had better not be about to say something on behalf of your bloody annoying friend..." Looking down over my cousin's shoulder, I saw Scorpius Malfoy lingering at the bottom of the staircase, having the nerve to look uncomfortable. The bastard hadn't even bothered to come talk to me himself. I supposed he was tired of my rejections by now. Which was, of course, a good thing, because I was growing rather tired of repeating my sentiments towards him over and over again.

"Rose, come on. He just wants—"

"To sleep with me? Yeah, I know. Kindly tell him to shove off."

Albus' green eyes flashed as they met mine. "A chance, Rose. He wants a chance. I wish you wouldn't act like you know him. He's not what you think he is."

I sighed. "I don't just think he's a careless playboy, Al. I know it. Everyone knows it. I'm not that kind of girl. And even if I was... Scorpius Malfoy wouldn't be the boy for me."

My cousin seemed to be toeing the line between anger and plain sadness. "We've all made mistakes, you know. There's no need to act so high-and-mighty."

"I'm sure all the girls Scorpius has shagged would very much appreciate being called mistakes," I said, my statement accompanied by a harsh laugh. Al seemed to be preparing to launch into a further argument, but honestly, I didn't want to hear it. "I have to go," I told him, not bothering to be gentle about it. "I'll see you around." Before he could protest, I turned and continued in the direction of my common room. My cousin did not follow.

When I reached the Fat Lady's portrait, she was sipping her glass of wine, grumbling about some ridiculous problem to a friend from another portrait who was keeping her company. "Firebolt," I pronounced, wanting to get safely through the portrait hole in case Scorpius Malfoy decided he wasn't going to give up quite yet. The Fat Lady continued her conversation as if she had not heard me. "Firebolt," I said again, louder and rather impatiently this time.

Her head snapped up, and she rolled her eyes. "You children just do not have a bit of patience, do you?" she whined. "Everything must happen precisely when you want it to... no matter what other people may be doing!"

I rolled my eyes. I certainly did not have any patience at the moment, especially for her. "Are you going to let me in?"

"Oh, fine," the Fat Lady said, scowling as her portrait swung forward.

I climbed into the common room and sat down with a huff on a sofa already occupied by a slim blonde girl who was eyeing me curiously. "What's got your knickers in a twist, Rosie? Wrackspurts bothering you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Not unless Scorpius Malfoy's a Wrackspurt."

Lysa Scamander, the daughter of my Auntie Luna and her husband Rolf, had acquired some of her mother's idiosyncrasies along with her looks, which I found rather amusing. She was a sixth year, but I preferred her to most of the Gryffindor girls my age. We had, after all, known each other for as long as either of us could remember.

My friend snorted at my words. "No, I do not believe wrackspurts are anywhere close to that attractive."

I levelled a glare at her. "Did you really just say you think that arsehole is attractive?"

Lysa shrugged. "It's not as though anyone is capable of denying it. Have you seen that smile?"

Scorpius' smooth, effortless grin was famously swooned over by the female population of Hogwarts. I'm sure it was the subject of many a rambling, lovesick poem. But I liked to think myself immune to his physical charms, so of course I never would have admitted to even noticing it. I said, "You know I reject him almost every time he speaks to me, right? I don't give him much reason to smile."

"Honestly, Rose, you're rather cruel to him."

I scoffed at my friend. "And why shouldn't I be? He just wants to get in my pants."

Lysa shook her head. "You ought not to take it for granted. I would be flattered if a boy doted on me nearly as much as Malfoy dotes on you."

"He does not dote on me. He follows me around like—"

"Like a sad puppy?"

"Like a stalker," I said, scowling at her.

The blonde girl shrugged again. "I'm just saying, most of the boys that are like him... and, yes, I do admit that he's a cad... but most of them would never spend the time chasing one girl that Malfoy has spent chasing you. God knows Alec never has... he has no patience for delayed gratification. But Malfoy keeps coming back to you, even when you've given no indication that you want him to. Don't you think that means something?"

"Sure, if by 'something' you mean that he's really desperate to sleep with me."

My friend looked slightly exasperated. "Come on, Rosie. Is it so hard to believe that Scorpius Malfoy has serious feelings for—"

"Lysa, hush," I snapped. "People will talk if they hear you say things like that. Besides, if he had serious feelings for me, would he still be taking a different girl to bed every week?"

She sighed dramatically, "Really, I don't think you understand how boys are. Do you think Alec was over Lily when he started in on his whole bad boy routine? Of course not. He did it to get over her, not because he already had."

Lysa's twin brother, who was a Ravenclaw, had been in a sort-of relationship with my cousin Lily the previous school year. She ended up dumping him for saying something stupid, and he had spent the time since they ended sleeping with any girl who would have him. I knew Lysa worried about his behaviour, but she wasn't the type to show her fears. She preferred to joke around about the things that hurt her.

"I see your point, Ly, but saying he has any actual feelings for me beyond lust is foolish. This is Scorpius Malfoy we're talking about. I don't think he has real feelings."

My friend raised her eyebrows. "My, you are cruel. You don't even know the boy."

"I know enough," I scoffed.

"Enough to make an informed judgement? Or just enough to make an ignorant one?"

I glared at Lysa. "Whose side are you on, here?"

"Whatever side gets you to stop being a total bitch to Malfoy for no real reason," she said, smirking.

"I am not being a bitch! I'm being careful. That boy is bad news, alright? I just don't want..." I let the sentence trail off, shaking my head.

My friend stared at me, and her bright blue eyes seemed to pierce my soul. Her mouth fell open slightly, as if she had suddenly realized something. "So that's it."

I frowned. "What's it?"

"You don't hate him. You never have. You're afraid."

I laughed, perhaps a bit forcibly. "Afraid of what, Ly?"

"Afraid that he's going to hurt you."

I looked away, unable to stand that intuitive gaze for a second longer. "Don't be ridiculous. Malfoy is... he's... " I searched for scalding words, but they didn't come.

"He's just a boy, Rosie. It's not like he's cursed to leave every girl he goes out with in the dust."

"He doesn't go out with any of his girls," I retorted, wanting desperately to change the subject.

Lysa didn't take the bait, at least not the way I wanted her to. "Have you ever considered that maybe the reason he doesn't go out with them is because he's stuck on you?"

I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to seem nonchalant. "Why are we still talking about this?"

"Because you need to open your eyes! It's so blaringly obvious that he likes you, and—"

"Will you just stop!" I burst out, realizing a second too late that I'd slipped out of my low tone into nearly a shout, and there was a group of third years across the room giving us looks now. Sighing, I sank down lower on the sofa and hissed, "Do you think I want him to like me? Do you really think there's any way that I could see that as a good thing, when he comes from a long line of Death Eaters and our parents are practically enemies and he's notorious for his aversion to commitment? It's a recipe for disaster, Lysa. There's no way it could end in anything except devastation."

My friend's expression was full of frustration, but her voice was soft when she spoke, after letting a few seconds pass in silence. "Don't take this the wrong way, Rosie, but... you'll never know if you don't try. I know it might feel like putting yourself in the line of fire, but... you're anticipating a shot without having any indication that the gun is even loaded. Sometimes you've just got to go for it, you know? Dare to take a risk without knowing where it might lead."

I pursed my lips. "I know you're appealing to my Gryffindor-ish instinct to be daring... I'm not going to take the bait. Some risks are too obviously foolish to be taken."

Lysa sighed dramatically. "Well, I didn't want to have to do this, but you've left me no choice..." She looked me directly in the eyes, and said, "I'll bet you twenty galleons that you don't have the guts to say yes the next time he asks you out."

Oh, she was good. I'll give her that. She knew how competitive I was, and that I was incapable of turning down a bet, no matter how stupid it was. Hugo, my little brother, had once bet me fifty sickles that I couldn't climb from the attic window of our house to the ground without falling. I took him up on it, and ended up breaking two ribs and my arm. That was not a fun night.

I scowled at Lysa, whose eyes were sparkling with excitement. She knew what I was going to say before I said it. "Fine," I told her, keeping my voice level and cool. "In fact, make it thirty. I'm not worried about losing my money."

I rose from the sofa and headed up the stairs to my dormitory without another word.

---

For a few days after I made that foolish bet with Lysa, very little happened. Her and my cousin Lily, a Ravenclaw two years my junior, did their best to bring up Scorpius Malfoy whenever possible, but the boy himself seemed suddenly averse to catching my attention. I supposed he had been listening to the less-than-flattering words I had spat at Albus, and was keeping his distance out of either indignation or shame. There was one time when he did seem to approach me, but I levelled such a burning glare at him that he veered away long before coming close. I planned to make use of my vicious eyes as often as was necessary to keep him away. After all, the terms of the bet were rendered obsolete for as long as he did not speak to me.

As it turned out, however, my repulsive powers were not so overwhelming as I imagined. Barely a week had passed since the bet when I found myself cornered.

I was alone in the courtyard, re-reading a chapter of Advanced Potion Making to review for an assessment we were to have on the following Monday. I have immaculate concentration skills, and was so absorbed in the pages that I didn't realize the ambush was coming until I felt the brush of a cool hand against my arm and the bench shifted under new weight as a voice said, "Hey, Rose."

I was so startled that the textbook slipped out of my hands and tumbled towards the ground, to be forever dirtied—

A slender, pale hand swept up the volume and replaced it in my lap, and my head snapped up to look into the amused, silver-grey eyes of Scorpius Malfoy.

I squeaked and scooted away from him, as far as I could without sliding off the bench. I had no interest in close contact with this boy. For all I knew, he might have been carrying an infectious disease. I heard him scoff, and although I glanced away for a moment to collect my dignity, I believe he rolled his eyes at my efforts.

"What do you want?" I said, somewhat stiffly. I stared at the book in my lap, because I didn't want to look at him.

A low chuckle escaped Malfoy's throat. "A great many things. But... At the moment, what I would like to do is extend my apologies."

I let my eyes glance up furtively at his pale, angular face as I frowned slightly. Those weren't the words I expected. "Your... apologies?"

He shifted, lifting a hand to drag it through the thick blond waves that tumbled across his forehead. I wondered how many girls had twisted their hands in that hair. I heard him sigh, and then say, "Yes. I'm sorry... for sending Albus after you the other day. It was foolish of me. I... I ought to have the guts to act on my own feelings, but after last time... I didn't feel up to it. I thought a word from him might be better received than a word from me."

I watched his face as he spoke, and the apology seemed genuine. Even if he did have the nerve to follow it up with excuses. I fixed my gaze squarely on him and said, "I'd rather I was not receiving any words from a member of Slytherin house."

The barb seemed to strike him harder than expected. He visibly flinched, and turned his body away from me, shoulders a bit slumped. I waited for him to snap back with a sharp retort, but none came. Instead, after a lengthy silence, he said, "Look, I... I get it, okay? I get that I'm not... I'm not what you think you want. I know there's a lot of bad blood between our houses, and between our families. But I... I'm friends with Al, aren't I? His family... your family... they've gotten used to it. To him and me. A Malfoy and a Potter. And I just think... I think that it's not fair of you... to condemn the notion of us without having tried." He had spoken all these words to the ground, but as he paused, he turned back to me. His grey eyes were surprisingly warm, and echoed his pleas as he continued. "Anyways, I just wanted to ask... Will you please give me a chance to prove that I'm not the person you think I am? To prove that this could work, if you'd let it?"

I supposed he made valid points, although I did doubt the last one. Realistically, I doubted anything between him and me could ever work. There was also the small matter of him not really addressing my dominant concern, which had nothing whatsoever to do with his family and everything to do with his personal reputation. However, I thought accusing him of rakish behaviour when he had just extended a rather heartfelt plea would have been slightly rude, so instead, in order to appease Lysa, I rolled my eyes and said, "Alright. Fine."

Malfoy made a surprised noise. "...Really? You... you're going to give me a chance?"

I scoffed at his obvious shock, and the thrilled look in his eyes. "Yes, Malfoy. One chance, mind you... Don't expect to hold onto me for very long."

A smile flitted across his face — not the legendary grin, but a softer, more honest smile. He shrugged and said, "We'll see." Then, "So... perhaps the Three Broomsticks, then? Sunday evening?"

Merlin, he was in a hurry, wasn't he? That was hardly two days away. But the speed suited my purposes fine, as I would get this done with and then be able to go back to ignoring him. "Certainly," I said, plastering a smile on my face for a reason I didn't quite understand. Then I frowned. "Hold on... There's no trip to Hogsmeade this weekend."

Malfoy laughed. "Well then, I guess we'll just have to employ some... untraditional methods to get us there."

I eyed him, somewhat trepidatious. "I hope you don't intend to do anything that could get me in trouble."

His eyes sparkled silver as he smirked. "Don't you trust me, Weasley?"

I stared at him. "Do you really want to know the answer to that question? Because I certainly have some choice words for you if you think you've done anything in the time we've known each other that makes you deserving of my trust."

"Well, how would you expect me to, when you seemed unable to stomach my presence for more than thirty seconds at a time?" Malfoy's brow was furrowed in mock indignation. I opened my mouth to retort, but was cut off when he stood up, making a show of pausing to brush off his robes before speaking. "However, the past matters not. We are now living for the future! In particular, Sunday night. Let's say... seven o'clock?"

After briefly consulting my mental calendar, I gave a forced half-smile and nodded. "Fine. Where shall I meet you?"

Malfoy bit his lip and said, "That is... to be determined. I must make some inquiries. I'll get back to you tomorrow?"

"Fine," I said again. This whole thing seemed rather complicated, and a bit sketchy, but a deal was a deal. Hopefully I'd survive to collect my thirty galleons from Lysa.

The blond boy cocked an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing across his lips. "You are the only girl this side of the Channel who could manage to look distraught about going out with me."

I shot a smug grin in Malfoy's direction. "Does that bother you?"

He laughed softly. "Not at all. In fact..." He met my eyes, his expression halfway between a smirk and a frown, and spoke the next words in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. "I believe it makes me like you even more."

The directness of his declaration took me aback, and I jerked away from his steady gaze, wondering how one responded to such things. When I looked back up, lips ready with a sharp reply, Scorpius Malfoy had vanished. I was left alone in the courtyard, hands curled tightly around the textbook in my lap, wondering why the exchange had left my heart pounding against my chest like a prisoner desperate to get out of a cell.