PART ONE: ISLA
EVERY BEGINNING STARTS WITH AN END
Murder hadn't been on Isla's agenda, but at the moment, she was seriously considering it. Penelope was prattling on and on about Merlin knew what, and Isla was barely resisting the urge to pick up her wand and cast a quick Avada Kedavra. It would have been worth it, just to make her stop talking.
Fidgeting with the tablecloth, the dark-haired girl cast a hopeful gaze around the room. Along with Penelope Amalia Burke, pureblood galas were one of the banes of Isla Nott's existence. Maybe Scorpius was close by. Then she could rummage up some excuse and escape off to do something slightly worthwhile.
"And then the prissy salesgirl told me they were out of stock- like what the hell, did she not know who I was?" Penelope was still ranting. Absentmindedly, Isla nodded along. While she couldn't stand her in the slightest, her next best option was currently Francine Parkinson, who was a nose picker.
Then again, not many people were willing to deal with the Nott's disgrace anyways.
A streak of blonde caught the edges of Isla's vision, and hastily, she stood up. "Sorry Penelope, but Scorpius is over there, and it looks like he needs me. I'd love to chat some other time, though." Taken aback slightly by Isla's rudeness - it was something her mother would never stop chastising her about - Penelope managed to bluster a few goodbyes. It was simply too bad that Isla didn't manage to hear any, having already headed away.
"Scorp, you left me with Burke," Isla whined, falling into step with the blonde haired boy. Scorpius Malfoy was one of the only purebloods that Isla found had some sort of interesting facet to their personality. Everyone else was either one of two ideologies: the shallow aristocrat, or the murderous villain. The pair had made a pact years ago to stick together at these sorts of functions. There was no one better to associate with.
Scorpius grinned. "I wish I could say that I'm sorry, but really, I'm not." He was interrupted by a shove to his side. "What did she bore you with this time?"
Isla wrinkled her nose. "How she bought a dress for this ball - they were out of stock, can you believe it?" Sarcasm filtered through her words, earning a smile from Scorpius.
"More interesting than Francine - that girl could have a conversation with a wall, I'm telling you, it's like I wasn't even there." Scorpius elegantly maneuvered his way through a couple that seemed to be glaring at them, or more specifically, their conversation.
At that comment, Isla rolled her eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."
"Oh be quiet, you Gryffindor Nott."
This elicited a gasp from the pair they had just passed. It was typical of most purebloods, even though the lot of them had heard already - it had been six years since it happened, after all. Anyone who hadn't known by then was on the fringes of society. So, useless anyways. Biting her lip, Isla glared daggers in Scorpius's direction. "Says the person who's best friends with a Potter."
Another wheeze.
"Do you want a drink? You seem to be wheezing a lot." Scorpius turned around to face the couple, who immediately pretended to be immersed in conversation. Isla bit back a smile - a bunch of nosy old bats, the whole lot of them were.
"Scorpius!" she had to reprimand. "Don't be rude!" She didn't bother apologizing for him - he was much better at the whole false politeness thing, really. Isla was more of the 'don't do it in the first place' type, a much easier way of dealing with the situations, if you asked her.
He arched an eyebrow. "Come off it, Isla - you know the only people here are your family, my family, the Burkes, and Parkinsons. And we only invited the Parkinsons and Burkes because without them, this gathering would have just been sad."
"Your point is…"
"That it's probably grandma Parkinson or something acting like she's about to die. And who really cares about her, anyways?" Another smack. "Hey!"
"She can hear you!" Isla hissed. Turning around, she smiled apologetically. "I'm so sorry for him - he's had a little too much champagne, if you know what I mean." The lady's hiss drew Isla aback, and with raised eyebrows, she faced Scorpius again. "Hag."
"Damn straight," he muttered.
"So Scorp," Isla began, straightening to her full height (of five foot, but at least she wasn't being completely dwarfed, Scorpius was short too). "I suppose I should take you to your room now, you can't get even more plastered."
A smile curved on Scorpius's lips. "Pillow fight!" he squealed, with only a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Who has pillow fights anymore?"
"I do," Scorpius replied, fluffing up his hair.
"Drama queen," Isla rolled her eyes at him, and grabbing his arm, dragged him out of the ballroom. She had no idea why the Malfoys had chosen to hold a small gathering in the ballroom, but it was their choice - she wasn't going to protest.
The couple was still watching them - didn't they have anything better to do?
Stumbling out of the ballroom, Isla's stature changed instantly. "Thank Merlin," she sighed, pulling off her three inch heels. "These shoes are killing me."
"It didn't do anything, anyways - you're still ridiculously short." Scorpius looked her up and down.
"Shut up, Malfoy. Let's go upstairs before my parents see me out here." While Theodore didn't care much about these sorts of things - he spent most of his time socializing with Draco, although he was more of a loner really - Cora dwelled in high society gatherings. If she had actually been able to have any sort of real spawn, they would have been born in a pair of high heels. Unfortunately, Isla didn't match the description.
"What'll they see? Just a pair of innocent cousins up to doing innocent things."
For about the millionth time, Isla rolled her eyes. "Come on - let's go to your room. Hopefully our mums are bitching about Daphne again." For a trio of sisters, Astoria and Cora both certainly seemed to hate the third, most likely because Daphne was the most likely to perpetuate purist beliefs and shallow ideals.
( It was no wonder Francine had turned out like she had, having mothers like Daphne and Pansy Parkinson. )
"Alright, alright." Scorpius led the way to his room, Isla following in close suit. It wasn't as if she hadn't been there before, but she possessed common courtesy, unlike her dear cousin. Honestly, if his mother knew the things he got up to at Hogwarts, she'd lock Scorpius in his room until he was thirty.
Once Isla had plopped onto Scorpius's bed, leaving him to splay himself on the ground, she huffed, head in her hands. "What are we going to do?"
A wicked grin slid onto Scorpius's face. "We could leave."
Isla mirrored his expression. "Why yes we could - where to?"
Scorpius assumed an impression of thinking - one could never really be sure if anything was going on inside his head - and raised his finger. "We could go to -" Isla opened her mouth to protest. "Come on! We went to Zabini's last time, you know how much she hates me, but I did it for you."
"Elisabeth was there too, and besides, Adelaide doesn't hate you as much as Weasley hates me." Isla Nott was practically one of the banes of Rose Weasley's existence - she took every opportunity to shoot jibes and insults at her. Isla liked to assume it was because she gave Rose a run for her money in the academic department, but really, it was most likely because Isla was a bitch. And so was Rose.
Scorpius frowned. "Fawley barely even counts, plus Rose probably won't even be there - she's not always at the Potter's. And Rose doesn't hate you, you're part of her friend group."
"Oh come on, Scorp," Isla scoffed, "How often am I at your house?" She didn't give him the chance to answer. "A lot. Don't you think Rose will be at her cousins' house frequently too?"
He didn't have an answer for that, just puppy dog eyes.
Sadly for him, Isla was immune. "No"
Scorpius sighed, but stood up, offering Isla his arm. "Let's go to Renaissance Park then!" Isla eyed his hand with distaste. "Stop looking at my arm like that, Miss Failed-her-apparition-test."
"Oh, shut up, Scor-piss-ass."
"It would be my pleasure, Is-la."
With Isla sticking out her tongue at Scorpius, the two of them apparated away from Malfoy Manor.
"Of course."
The moment the two of them had apparated into the park, Scorpius had snatched his hand away from hers, running straight into the arms of a one Albus Potter. Isla stood back, watching the two greet the other- even though they had seen each other, what, a week ago - while holding back a snicker of her own. Albus and Scorpius had to be two of the closest friends that Isla had ever known, second to maybe Elisabeth and Adelaide.
The uncomfortable feeling twisting in her stomach was awfully similar to how she sometimes felt around her friends. But there were a few crucial differences between her cousin and her friends.
"Of course what?" Scorpius twisted around to face Isla, signalling for her to come closer. "Albus just happened to be here."
Isla's scoff was practically second nature by now. "You know Scorp, it's a good thing you're such a charmer or no one would believe your lies."
Albus decided to take the opportunity to speak. "Can I ask why you're third wheeling here today, or would that be rude?" An eyebrow was arched in response. Meanwhile, Scorpius's expression was demonstrating his doubt about the amount of brain cells his best friend possessed.
"You're the third wheeler today, actually." Once in a blue moon, Scorpius Malfoy said something intelligent. It was a good thing that Isla and Albus were on good enough terms - they weren't friends, per say, but they had to be acquaintances or Scorpius would have thrown a fit - or the situation they were in would have been much more awkward.
"I guess I should go sit in the corner and drink all the alcohol I brought alone, then." Albus let out a hefty sigh.
"You two can go off and get pissed," Isla said, beginning to walk away. "I'm going to go on the swingset over there."
Scorpius had never looked so torn. Glancing back and forth between Albus and Isla, he finally made a decision. "Why not both?" he questioned, beckoning to Albus. Of the two, Isla was the more stubborn by kilometres. And she was already at the swings, struggling to sit down properly. It was the dress - she knew she would rue the day she listened to Cora Greengrass-Nott.
Although Isla's gaze was directed at the sky, it was obvious when the two took seats next to her, the set letting out an audible groan. "If this whole thing comes crashing down, it's not my fault," Isla warned, beginning to swing. Hopefully the mud stains on her dress would come off, because if not, Isla Nott was a dead woman walking (or technically, swinging).
Albus smirked. "No, it's going to be the three drunken teenagers' fault."
"Make that two, actually," Isla corrected.
Snatching a bottle from Albus, Scorpius frowned. "Come on Isla, you never do anything fun. Loosen up a bit." He held out the alcohol.
Isla swung harder.
"Guessing that's a no, then." Albus was watching her amusedly.
Scorpius shook his head. "Isla's a basket case. Ignore her."
Isla stopped swinging, grabbed a bottle, and resumed her actions.
"Aren't we all basket cases, though?" Albus' voice had amusement laced through it.
"Not as much as her. One time, in fifth year, she ran around the great hall in a clown costume, Isla, you're not six anymore, you're nine-"
"Seventeen?"
"Same thing. Don't be an idiot."
"Says you."
"I remember that time!" A late interjection by Albus. "But Scor, didn't you wear that-"
"Mate, you're supposed to be on my side. You're my best friend, you know that out of the Greengrass spawn, I'm the best."
"Wear what? And you're the only real Greengrass spawn. And even Franky beats you by far, Scor-piss-ass." Isla had given up on ignoring them, dress billowing behind her long swings.
"What?" Albus glanced back and forth between the two cousins, a slight hint of confusion evident in the way his thick eyebrows were furrowed.
"Come on, Al, keep up. We just started drinking. It's common knowledge." Both Theodore Nott and Cora Greengrass were sharp and angular, but the similarities ended there. Cora, with her ebony skin and halo of hair, was beautiful in ways Theodore was not - glowing, bright, vibrant. Isla's father, on the other hand, with his sharp eyes and lightly tanned skin, was full of darkness. Isla, on the other hand, was some percent Asian, and her pale skin indicated that she was most definitely not born to the Notts.
Albus didn't bother answering.
"You know, I think the Cannons are going to win the Cup this year," Scorpius spoke after a few minutes in comfortable silence.
"You wish - the Tornadoes are going to kick their ass."
"You're just saying that because Molly is on the team."
"Are you kidding? I'm saying that despite Molly being on the team," Albus snorted, giving Scorpius an incredulous look. Isla didn't add her opinion to the conversation, but Molly was a much better quidditch player than the both of them. Then again, if anybody said otherwise, they would suffer Molly Weasley's wrath.
"Molly Weasley has weird ears."
There was a beat of silence. And then:
"A weird face too, quite honestly. Al, don't people always compare her to your uncle Percy?"
"No wonder people don't like the pair of you, you two are crazy."
Isla let out a mock-gasp at this. "Just because I'm willing to brave Molly Weasley's anger, I'm automatically cuckoo? You should be glad, Albus Potter - it means that she won't beat you up." She paused. "It wouldn't you any favors anyways, your nose is already crooked."
"If I hadn't just drank half a bottle of alcohol, I think I would have taken much more offense to that. And if I have a crooked nose, well - your eyebrows are all over the place."
"That's because I didn't get them done yet, you twit!"
"...Get them done?" Scorpius repeated the phrase as if it was Mermish.
"I'm not going to explain it to you, Scorp, you run away if I even mention that I have cramps. Hah - remember when I had the flu?"
"What if I asked Francine?" Scorpius had managed to twist his swing, and was currently spinning in rapid circles. Albus was staring in fascinated horror at the atrocity.
"Like she counts as a girl."
"True."
The silence that fell over them at this point lasted for much longer - Isla suspected it had something to do with her - until she managed to slip off her swing, tumbling in a heap on the ground. "Ow- bloody Merlin, this hurts!"
The two boys exchanged a look, and Scorpius heaved himself off the swing. "Up you go," he muttered, yanking Isla to her feet. Her ball gown was in tatters, and in the back corner of her mind this was dimly noted. Tomorrow, Cora was going to kill her. Today - the night was young.
It was for that very reason that, stumbling towards Albus, she said, "Do you have any more bottles?"
Surprisingly, he did.
A hiccup escaped the girl. "Are you some sort of alcoholic? I mean, how do you have so - so much?"
"A refilling potion, duh."
Isla's retort was lost in the night, along with Scorpius's response until it blurred together into a massive blur of laughter and adrenaline.
(And alcohol. Couldn't forget the alcohol.)
The next morning dawned bright and early, Isla awakening with a scream coming from downstairs.
"What happened, Mum?" Isla yawned when she eventually made her way downstairs. Her mind was half lost in her throbbing headache, especially because it was Cora Greengrass-Nott who had yelled, the same woman who shrieked when she found out that her favorite dress was out of stock.
But her mother didn't respond, and only stood still. A red alert for someone who was constantly talking, constantly alive and energetic. Especially if Isla included the fact that she still hadn't been reprimanded for yesterday's ordeal. Her mother had definitely already seen her dress.
Isla walked over to Cora, snatching the newspaper from her hands - her knuckles had whitened - and read the headline.
NICOLA AVERY FOUND DEAD IN RENAISSANCE PARK, it read.
The paper fluttered to the ground.
