❝Yes ,  I would say I can bunk over .❞

  Lifting up six thick blankets -  with a note of concern he considers
  the idea that Rose is sick ; he takes care to tuck them in after him -  
  Scorpius leans against her headboard , adjusting her so she’s as
  comfortable as can be accomplished in a twin bed .

    ❝I would first ask why you’re so disinclined to sleep alone , 
    but tell me that at your leisure . What I'm really interested in ,❞ 
    he continues , grinning , ❝- is this house. This is the Burrow ? 
    It really is amazing .  Which of your aunts or uncles or grandparents - 
    don’t look at me like that , Rose , there are so many ! It’s hard to
    remember them all ! Which of them owns this now ? And how cool
    or oblivious are they to have let a Malfoy into it for Christmas ?❞

  But Scorpius doesn’t need an answer , really . He sinks a little lower
  into the bed , his hand travelling to brush Rose’s hair lightly as he
  observes the ceiling . It has the worn look of generations of use , but
  not in the way Malfoy Manor does . It’s almost warm , almost cozy ,  
  this grimy ceiling , exactly like the rest of the house . Does Rose realize
  how lucky she is to have this , he wonders ? Warmth and family ? He
  bites his lip as he thinks on it ; of course she does . It’s just petty jealousy
  tearing at him . Really Scorpius should be dwelling on his own luck ; a
  wonderful girl next to him and a family willing to overlook his lineage
  downstairs . Surely Christmas has never been this good .