{{{from this}}}

    ❝Rose?❞

 No use- Rose Weasley is slipping fast.
 The Gryffindor’s quill is beginning to drop
 from her lean fingers; Scorpius takes it
 gently. It is, truly, late. Normally neither of
 them would be up past midnight like this,
 but seeing as the Herbology essay is
 posing such a challenge, it was unavoidable.

 Still, that doesn’t seem to be bothering Rose;
 lack of sleep is tearing her from the parchment.
 Score tries to rouse her at first, but why? She
 looks absolutely exhausted. Instead he takes her
 parchment and rolls it up- tomorrow is another day-
 and does the same to his. Stowing them in his bag,
 the Hufflepuff twists behind him on the couch to pull
 a blanket and tuck it around her. Even asleep, with
 her red hair tangled around her face, Rose is undeniably
 beautiful.

 Scorpius grins and pushes some hair off her
 forehead to kiss it. The essay can wait, he
 decides; this is worth more than any grade.