Laughter Lines
„I'll see you in the future when we're older
and we are full of stories to be told.
Cross my heart and hope to die,
I'll see with your laughter lines"
- BΔSTILLE - Laughter Lines
Summer - Eights Week, Oxford, Oxfordshire, England
Rose Weasley hated having to attend public events together with her family. In her opinion, the ministry shouldn't allow her relatives to embarrass her on every occasion or at least drag her favourite cousin Albus into the mess that always erupted sooner or later. But sadly, even a daughter of two thirds of the Golden Trio couldn't take her cousin out of Auror trainee duties and so she was left alone with the bunch.
Today's outing was an annual one, a tradition that had been initiated shortly after the second Wizarding War by her mother to strengthen the bond in Wizard-Muggle relations. Apparently visiting a bumps race on a lovey day at the end of May was a perfect way to show that the famous clan supported the fairly new student programme for young wizards striving to study at one of the most prestigious colleges in all of the World. Rose couldn't care less since she had started her training to become a Healer a while ago and didn't want to continue learning in an environment were the world she grew up in was simply non-existent. However, her mother had given her those one-and-only Hermine-Granger-looks when she had tried to wiggle her way out of today's plans at the last minute and had accepted her fate as gracefully as possible.
Which meant that she was now looking down the undergraduate that had welcomed her family to the event with a death stare that made him let out a whimper strongly resembling a puppy. Next to Rose, her brother Hugo had to stifle a snicker into the back of his suit-clad arm and she shot him a warning look before taking in the scenery.
The Isis, a side stretch of the Thames, glistened warmly in the sunlight in front of the many spectators that had come to watch the traditional boat race between the colleges at Oxford University. While many resigned to sitting in the grass on the edge of the river with self-brought beverages, the Weasleys had been invited to watch from the VIP lounge which was situated right at the finish line. The white tents stood out greatly against the mass of greenery around it that was in full bloom, their bunting dancing in the occasional breeze. The air hummed with voices, laughter, the rustling of leaves in the wind, water splashing and the clinking of cutlery on porcelain from the nearby buffet.
Everywhere she looked, Rose saw people. To her joy, there were much more young people than elders and the attire ranged from 'Races at Ascot' to 'Hanging with friends on the couch'. But then again, most who fitted in the latter category sat on the grass and weren't allowed in the tents, kept away with red ropes like at a posh night club. Rose sighed and looked down on herself: her clean cut yet satin blue cocktail dress, nude strappy heels and headache-inducing updo made her feel uncomfortable; she had always been more of a jeans-and shirt girl.
But Hermione ripped her daughter out of her reverie before she could attempt any impromptu alterations on her wardrobe and nudged her over to the large, round oak table reserved especially for the family. At the sight of the whiter than white tablecloths layered on the massive polished piece of furniture and the creme-coloured fabric napkins a grip of sheer panic overtook Rose. Within a single second she grabbed two glasses of prosecco from a waiters tablet, mumbled an inaudible excuse to her family and exited the pavilion with hasty steps.
The heels of her sandals banged loudly on the planks of the platform twice before they hit the grass with a much more muffled sound. While a flood of relief washed over Rose, she wiggled her small frame through the crowds, grateful for the shield they offered, and hastened along the stream towards the starting line. She didn't stop until she was out of breath and glad that she had found a small spot on the crowded river banks, she sat down and took off those tantalizing excuses for shoes. Rose took a deep breath while scanning her surroundings once more to see if miraculously, one of her family members had managed to follow her. Seeing nothing but laughing, chatting yet unfamiliar faces, she started to relax and let her mind wander while the races were officially opened.
The afternoon passed without great interruptions of her train of thoughts, but if they were caused by slightly drunk college boys who had been dared by their friends to talk to Rose and whose egos were scarred by simple stare downs by their object of desire. However, her tactic proved to be effective and she was always left alone afterwards, able to enjoy the warm, buzzing summer air. As much as she hadn't wanted to go, Rose was content to enjoy the time on her own surrounded by the supporting chants cheering on their respective teams.
Just then, the starting gun was fired in the distance and another group of eights made their way up the river. As it was the last race of the day, Rose watched intently as the tiny boats neared the spot she was sitting closest to. The cheers around her grew louder and more frantic with every second because as it seemed, the team that had taken the lead was able to extend it even further, much to the dismay of the other divisions. Rose took in the sight of the young men moving perfectly in synchronization, making the boat appear to be flying across the stream effortlessly and strangely, she felt a sense of pride for them as they continued their victorious route up the river. When they were out of sight, Rose got up and began to stroll down back to her family, already bracing herself for the tirade she would get for hurrying off earlier.
When she got closer to the pavilions, Rose could see Uncle Harry and her mother chatting outside on the lawn while her brother Hugo and cousin Lily stood scheming their next prank on one of the adults. Just about as she was in earshot, the winners of the last race came up around the side of the tent from the jetty, ringed by admirers and with happy smiles on their faces. Rose barely registered them and was in the middle of opening her mouth to make her mother aware of her presence when she caught a fleck of blonde hair in the corner of her eye.
Realization dawned upon her and when she turned her head to confirm the suspicions, Roses brain was startled by the familiar sound of his voice and the vision of his wet, blonde hair with a soaked green and white wet suit clinging to his fit body. In fact her brain was so occupied with processing the information that Rose stopped dead in her tracks with her mouth wide open, unable to do anything but stare at him. "Scorpius Malfoy!" she managed to whisper absentmindedly, and without intending to catch his attention, the mention of his name did just that. He looked up from the face of an excited man whose hands he had just shook receiving his congratulations, and they locked eyes. A flash of surprise flitted across them but in opposition to Rose, he was able to overcome it much quicker: he flashed her a smile and came to greet her.
When Scorpius was standing just three inches from her, his warm, deep and hoarse voice saying her name shook her out of her paralysis. Before she could express her bewilderment at the coincidental reunion, her mother had reached the pair of them. With a nod of acknowledgment towards Scorpius she began her sermon on Rose, pulling her towards the exit of the event area. Stunned once more, Rose turned around only to catch one last glimpse of a dripping wet Malfoy with a lopsided smirk and one hand raised in a silent goodbye, before he was being swallowed by the crowd.
Hullo guys! I hope you enjoyed the first installment of what is supposed to become a tetralogy/quadrilogy based on, you guessed it, the seasons (a round of applause for originality please -_-) So please let me know how you like the idea and the story so far. Comments and Critic are appreciated and welcome ;) I've written this part a while ago and i listened to a lot of Bastille in that time. I really like the song Laughter Lines and what it expresses and I really thought it would be a great prompt for Scorose. You should check it out! I'm already working on two other chapters so not long, my friends! Oh, and a Happy New Year! A toast to 2017 being better than 2016!