DISCLAIMER: Just in case you have found yourself on a fanfiction website and randomly spazzed your way onto my story; this story isn't mine. The characters and universe were stolen from JK Rowling in green-eyed envy of her supreme talent. Like a creepy next-door neighbor who taxidermies their dead dogs, I refuse to admit Harry Potter is over and will continue to write fanfictions until I crack.
Chapter One: Fleeting (I know, same title as the story. Creativity just oozes from my ass like that.)
Albus
The sun was blaring through the window, erasing all the shadows from a black haired wizard's face. His nose twitched in his sleep, and a rogue snore escape with an inhale. Maybe it was the snore, or his erratic internal watch, but he was suddenly jostled awake. His green eyes flew open, and shoved himself up causing his head to spin.
"Ugh," he slumped back onto his head board and groped his bedside for a wristwatch. Finally finding it, he brought it underneath his nose to check the time.
"BLOODY HELL!"
He flew out of bed and began to frantically look around for a pair of pants. When he found one, he shook the flannel ones off his legs and considered for a moment to change his boxers. Unfortunately, there was no time. He hectically sniffed the shirt he was wearing and deemed it fresh, but admittedly quite tangy.
Luckily he had packed most of his stuff the night before, but he still had to find the Marauders Map. He had tried to find it the night before, but got tired and decided to wake up early the next morning to renew his search. Even after checking every crevice, the allusive map was still missing.
"LILY!"
A short redheaded girl peered through his bedroom's door.
"What is it Albus? You do know we have to leave in ten minutes?"
"Yes, yes! But the map! Do you know where it is?" He asked impatiently.
"Why would I need a map of Hogwarts? I try avoid all school related things during the summer."
"Does James know where it is?"
"James already has the map memorized like the back of his hand," she replied while strolling into the room. His sister was halfway through eating her breakfast, which was just a slice of toast. Unlike him, she was carefully put together for her first day back to school. She had even gone through the pain of doing her makeup and curling her hair.
"You look awfully pampered."
"Thanks, assuming you mean I look nice. Couldn't go to school looking like a mess," she smirked, regarding his rumpled outfit.
"Yes, well it would have been nice if someone woke me up earlier!" He replied sharply. "By the way, are you still trying to become friends with those awful girls?"
Lily glared at him, "they aren't awful, at least not to me. You didn't seem to mind them when Dominique was their friend."
"Well Dominique is only my cousin, therefore less of my responsibility."
"What exactly does this responsibility entail? Besides being overbearing and bedraggled?"
Albus sighed and put his hand on his sister's shoulder, "it makes me responsible for telling you that I think they're a poisonous bunch and I would much rather you stayed far, far away from them."
"You mean stay away, and hang out with Rose and her friends?" Lily asked him, delicately shrugging his hand off her shoulder.
"Sure! Hang out with Rose and Camille."
"Ugh," she moaned, echoing her brother from before. "It's weird Al! Our entire family only interacts with one another! We need to branch out."
"We do not," Albus said defensively. "Rose hangs out with Camille, and I am best mates with Lysander."
"He doesn't count, he's basically family!" Lily said. "For instance, I know from his mother, who visited last week, that he borrowed your binder and needed to return it. I also know from you, that your binder has–"
"the map in it…" he sighed. "Well I suppose, that mystery has been solved."
Lysander
Lysander was lying on his bed, wearing a pair of mismatched shoes. Of course the mismatching had been on purpose. Both were size ten Converse and had white laces, but one was red and the other was yellow. That way he had four shoes to mix and match as he pleased.
Apart from his outfit, there were many interesting things about Lysander's setting. For instance, on his wall he had the cover of every Quibbler which he wrote an article for. On what should have been his desk, he had an assortment of rocks, some were large and sharp and others were small and rough. There was also an elaborate and yellowing map on his bed, right bellow his nose.
He was diligently scrutinizing every dot on the map. There weren't very many since it was still before the start of the term. There were only a few professors. Two dots that belonged to his professors, Professor Grewt and Professor Marcel, were very closely together behind the one-eyed witches' statue; presumably in a passionate embrace. The dots slowly inched towards a nearby broom cupboard. Before things could move along further, Lysander folded up the map and tucked it deep into his robe's front pocket.
"Disgusting," he muttered to himself.
"Yes it is! We have less than ten minutes to floo to the Train Station!" His brother's voice yelled. Lysander spun around to face him while his unidentical twin brother, Lorcan, fumed in the doorway.
"You don't say?"
"Yes, now get up or I'm leaving without you!"
"Please do, all this yelling is giving me a migraine," Lysander responded, theatrically rubbing his temples while getting out of bed. Lorcan's jaw clenched.
"You're lucky Mum and Dad aren't here or they would be pulling your hair out," Lorcan said crossly. Lysander doubted this, since the only time his parents expressed anger was when one of their obscure magical creatures fell onto the endangered magical-animals list.
"It's a good thing you inherited all the good hair then," he responded nonchalantly, while putting on his leather hiking backpack.
"Is that all you're bringing?" Lorcan asked nonplussed. "Where's your trunk?"
"Oh, I've moved on from that clunky old thing, I don't need much to keep myself running these days," Lysander said back to him.
"Aren't you bringing too little?" Lorcan asked with concern. Lysander, exited his room, and Lorcan followed close behind.
"Some of us don't need to cart around a ton of hair mousse with us, Tousle me Softly was it called?" Lorcan blushed a deep shade of red. Lysander continued, "I also find my load to be infinitely lighter when I have fewer secrets to carry around."
"What's that suppose to mean?" Lorcan inquired curtly. They both went down two flights of stairs into the living room.
"Come now brother, you've sent poor Elrond to deliver a message every night," he said, referring to the family owl. "The only two plausible explanations are: you're planning an underground revolution and are keeping touch with your fellow renegades, or you're romancing a new girl."
"How did you know?"
"Call it a young boy's intuition," Lysander said, while scooping a sparkling dust from a small pot on the mantel.
"Are going to tell–"
In that moment, the other brother disappeared into the fireplace with the words "Kings Cross: Nine and Three Quarters" and a green flame. Lorcan was left behind in their living room looking at the shrinking flame, with a feeling of guilt stewing in his stomach.
Rose
"ROSE WEASLEY! YOU ARE GOING TO BE LATE!" A shrill voice echoed through the house, and landed in Rose's already-sore eardrums.
"IN A MINUTE MUM!" Rose replied back, no less shrilly. The girl had inherited many things from her mother; a shrill voice being among them. Other things included her mothers unruly curls, a quick mind and admittedly large front teeth. Her mum had allowed her to shrink them before her first year of Hogwarts, but they still had managed to be a millimeter longer than all her other teeth. Her quick mind had been a result of rigorous studying in her childhood, and had manifested itself as the Prefect badge she had received in the mail a month previously.
Though many people liked to compare her to her mother, she definitely had inherited more the Weasley side of her family. For example, the previously mentioned unruly curls were a bright red, and her nose was rather long and pointed like her fathers. Lastly, she hated to admit it, she had also inherited the Weasley temper. Though sometimes she wondered if she got that from her mother too…
"ROSE CEDRELLA WEASLEY! YOU GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"
There was definitely a high chance of that…
There were less than ten minutes to make it out the door and on the train, so both her and her brother opted to floo. They both said their goodbyes to their parents in front of the chimney.
"I wish we had time to drive you," a worried Hermione said to them.
"Most kids go by floo anyways. Once they turn fourteen at least," Hugo responded.
"And most families have no souls," Ron Weasley responded grimly, patting his son's shoulder. "We'll pick you up during winter break. And we'll write every week."
"Don't forget to write! Especially you Rose!" Her mother warned. She sighed a "yes mother" while Hugo stepped into the fireplace.
Her brother's face contorted and he yelled "Platform nine and three quarters, London" while throwing a fistful of glittery dust onto the ground. Rose idly wondered if the glitter actually had any magical properties, or if the inventors of floo were just fond of arts and crafts.
Rose went after him. Her last view was of her mother and father smiling at her, before she too disappeared among the green flames.
Rose stumbled gracelessly out of the fireplace and nearly tripped on the ground, before a pair of arms caught her.
"Careful, there's a loose brick."
She peered up at her savior, and for a moment her heart gave out. He had bright blonde hair, a pair of warm brown eyes, and a goofy grin planted on his face.
"Heavens! I thought you were Lor–" She stopped abruptly, realizing how pathetic she sounded.
"Lysander, but it's a common mistake. People usually think he's me, only with a bad cold and a skin infection," he grinned, while helping upright her.
"It's bloody difficult hauling a trunk through the floo. Have you seen Hugo?" She asked, peering over his shoulder to scan the crowd of people surrounding the Hogwart's Express.
"Already on the train."
"So much for family loyalty," she sighed. "What about the Potter clan? If they're already on the train too, I might as well disown myself."
"Nope, I'm assuming their right behind you since Lily is always late. But never this–"
Right in that moment, a redhead came crashing onto her back out of the fireplace.
"Lily! Are you okay?" Rose asked, uprighting Lily as she cursed under her breath.
"I knew I shouldn't have gone by floo! My hair and clothes are ruined!" She moaned while trying to whisk the dust off her pretty pink cardigan.
"Don't forget your face," Lysander piped up cheerfully. "Where's your bro–"
And James came crashing out the fireplace too. Colliding onto all three of them.
"Not that one!" Lysander complained while trying to upright himself. Rose's arm was pinned under Lily.
"MOVE BEFORE IT'S TOO LA–"
Before the word "late" had a chance to escape Lily's lips, Albus Severus Potter fell onto their pile, making their quartet into a quintet.
"Ow," Albus said, though Rose didn't know why. It wasn't like he was the one with his face smooshed under a trunk. And there was a strange sensation coming from her nose…
"Up. Up. Up." Rose yelled at all of them. They all scrambled off of her, and she pulled herself off the ground. Her head spun for a moment as she sat up. Then she caught sight of the everyone's identical looks of horror.
"What?" She asked panicked, her eyes darted to the ground, where her head had been seconds before. There was a small puddle of blood. Her hands flew to her head.
"Not your head Rose… it's your–"
"Wow, Rose Weasley. Looking good!" a voice mocked, Rose spun around to find the wisecrack.
"Tamsin Nott," she just sighed it response, the pain in her nose began to grow.
Tamsin Nott was standing three meters away from their group, next to another girl in her year: Holland Vane. Tamsin was the head of the sort of stereotypical click you found in schools. She fit the stereotype through and through: perfectly coiled black hair, pristine makeup and a notorious family history. She also acted like she was the hottest thing in the British Isles, the most annoyingly, it was probably more in self-awareness than from an inflated ego.
"I would have suggested a specialist; but I guess any alteration, no matter how bad, is better than what you had before."
Then again, a hideous personality did a lot to ruin otherwise perfect looks. Rose threw her head back and laughed, while trying to stem the flow of blood.
"A broken nose and a complement so early in the day! Pinch me I must be dreaming!"
Tamsin's nose wrinkled, and she turned her eyes away from Rose, evidently done with their banter.
"Lily, are you coming along? The train is about to leave," Tamsin asked the youngest cousin. Lily's eyes shifted from Rose to Tamsin, who was already turning away to get on the train.
"Sorry! I'll try and talk to her! She probably doesn't mean it!" Lily scampered off, leaving Rose with one last apologetic look.
"Why am I not surprised?" Rose muttered, while Albus, James and Lysander converged on her.
"I tried to talk to her about it earlier today, but for some reason she is adamant about remaining friends with them. Shouldn't we fix your nose or something?" Albus asked with concern.
"Do any of you know how to repair a nose?" James asked. "I would offer but I only know about knee caps."
"Knee caps?" Rose questioned. "I'd rather not risk it. Apparently, my nose can't handle looking any worst."
"Your nose is fine," Albus reassured her.
"Let's get on the train. Albus and James, you guys get our trunk and but them in the cargo. I'll get Rose on the train and find someone who knows how to fix noses," Lysander instructed, and they all hurriedly got to their tasks.
Lysander and Rose stepped onto the train, Lysander held out a scarf for her to use as a gauze. She brought it up to her nose gratefully. Her sleeve had been completely soaked through with blood.
Rose's face was a bright red as she walked through the trains hallways. People peered through their compartment windows, and if they had the good grace to ignore her, Lysander would knock on their compartment door and ask if anyone knew how to fix broken noses.
The answer had always been no.
"Lysander! I don't have time for this! I have to go and find the Prefect's compartment," she panicked. It was the first meeting of the year, and she was eager to give a good impression.
"You don't think they would understand? You're gushing like a decapitated House elf."
Rose shook her head.
"You also have to be at the compartment right?" Rose asked him. Lysander had also gotten the badge. While he may have been hyper, with a mild touch of ADD, Lysander was probably one of the smartest boys in Ravenclaw. He, however, did not seem to like Rose's idea of pressing ahead.
"No offense, but you look like a serial killer. We at least need to get you cleaned up."
She pulled out her wand from her backpack and waved it, cleaning up the blood easily. Then looked at him expectantly. Lysander sighed in resignation. They continued their walk through the hall, and dodged passing students. Though "dodged" might be glorified term what they actually did, since people gave them a relatively wide berth when they saw Rose's bloody nose.
"I could try a healing spell on myself. I'm quite good at them."
"You're good at everything, but self-healing is Auror level charms," he said, while leading her to the front of the train (usually where the Prefects chose their compartment). "I think I was supposed to tell you something by the way, but I'm having a hard time remembering what."
"Well, seeing as you haven't told me yet, I can't help you there," she replied. "Oh! I think this is it!"
They slid open the door, and everyone in the compartment stared at her and Lysander. In the compartment there was Scorpius Malfoy, Tamsin Nott, and Lorcan Scalamander. Rose's nose began to drip onto the floor, breaking the fat silence.
Lysander sauntered onto one of the empty seats and put his arms behind his head.
"So what did we miss?"
Scorpius
He had been in the Prefect's compartment for five minutes when Rose Weasley and Lysander Scalamander opened the compartment door. Scorpius hadn't particularly wanted to be Head boy. His indifference was further augmented by the merciless teasing from his friend, Frank Zabini, the entire summer. Whenever Scorpius was in the least bit of a bad mood, and took it out on him, Frank would say "what are you going to do? Dock points?" This affectively shut Scorpius up. So it came as no surprise to him that Rose Weasley would also be a Prefect. Apparently all bad things came in twos.
It made him question what horrible acts he had committed in his past life that caused him to be dealt this hand in life.
Tamsin didn't seem too pleased about it either, because when the compartment door opened she audibly said, "you've got to be kidding."
Though Scorpius wasn't sure if she was talking Rose Weasley being made a Prefect, or Rose Weasley holding a bloody rag to her nose.
"So what did we miss?" asked the other Scalmander twin as he fell onto the seat right next to him. Tamsin stiffened at the proximity. She always thought he was a little gross and Scorpius had to agree. The boy smelled of donuts and fertilizer.
"Nothing, except that you're late to your first meeting," said the Head Girl, Veronia Herald. "Rose are you okay? Is your nose broken?"
"Yeah, it's fine. It barely hurts anymore. I was just going to get it fixed when I got back to the castle," she replied, waving away the Head Girl's concern. Unsuccessfully.
"Does anyone in this compartment know how to heal a nose?" she asked around helplessly.
"Shouldn't you? You are a 7th year whose trying to become an Auror," Tamsin replied haughtily.
"Well, I haven't completed the 7th year yet," she replied unperturbed. "Anyone?"
"I do." Scorpius had considered staying silent, but apparently he had some retribution to serve to avoid becoming a slug in his next incarnation.
"Excellent," she replied.
"No! I mean, no, it's fine. Really. I'm sure Madam Pomfery can fix this in a jiffy. I'm not sure if I'd want inexperienced hands dealing with my nose anyways," Rose replied hastily. Scorpius had to prevent himself from rolling his eyes.
"I've healed three noses in my life. The first time was in the third year. I think I can handle it."
"I'm sure you did a marvelous job," Rose said. "I, however, do not want to risk it."
"Rose, you are disrupting this meeting," Veronica injected. "Have Scorpius heal your nose for goodness sake. Be reasonable."
Rose seemed to be fighting an internal battle, "okay, fine."
Drama Queen.
She sat down in the only empty seat left and cringed as he walked in front of her.
"Can every one move please?" Scorpius said, referring to Lorcan Scalamander who was sitting next to Rose looking concerned.
"Look, I'm not sure if this is the best idea," Lorcan said as he moved over. Scorpius wondered why he was even cared, until he remember that the two of them had dated last year. Scorpius didn't reply, and knelt down to face Weasley. She stared at him with an expression of distrust.
"You're going to need to lower that rag," he said to her.
"That's my scarf, not a rag," an offended voice stated from behind him.
"Wonderful," Scorpius replied.
Weasley still had the rag on her face.
"Look, it can't be that bad. If it was, you'd be bawling on the ground."
Finally she lowered the rag, exposing her nose. It was swollen and a large amount of blood was smeared around it. Scorpius focused on her nose and it looked like only her septum was broken. He held up his wand to her face, she twitched.
"Hold still," he grumbled, grabbing her chin to keep her in place. She finally did, and he nonverbally healed her nose. It wasn't till it Rose let out a sharp breath that he realized he had been holding his breath as well. Her face was still covered in blood and reached areas which almost seemed impossible to reach if it had been a normal nose bleed. But Scorpius assumed that she had spread it by holding the rag to her nose.
The entire lower section of her face was covered in blood. Even her lips. But they were a darker red, which made Scorpius think that it may have been their natural color. Her eyes also stood out against the massive amount of scarlet. In that moment, they were peering at him. It made him realize that he had been standing there for an unnecessarily long time, and just staring at her. He was also still holding her chin.
"Scourgify," he muttered, and drew back to his seat.
"Thanks," Rose sighed in relief, falling back into her seat as if she were exhausted.
"Well, that took longer than usual," Tamsin accused. "Seems you're loosing your touch."
"It was a bad break," Scorpius explained.
She was better than beautiful, she was the sunset. Her orange hair for the sky. The blood for clouds. The scarlet of her lips for the sun. Her blue eyes would be the ocean, as cliché as that is. Only she doesn't make it dull. It makes me rethink every ocean I'd ever seen, swearing that none had ever been so blue as those eyes. And her teeth, those would be the stars.
So beautiful and so distant.
Well thanks for reading to the end. This story began as another called "Demolition Lovers" but I really wasn't happy the way it was heading. At first I had planned on going through and editing it, but now I've decided to start completely fresh on a new story! Similar characters, similar plot lines and same humor, but with a few adjustments. First off I fleshed out the character more, and gave them actual personalities, and then I plotted out the general outline of the entire story. I actually like DL but something wasn't quite right about it. Now I'm planning on writing a lot for this fic, and will hopefully be posting more soon!
Any Comments/Reviews/Follows are appreciated. If you read DL, tell me what you think of this? Better or worst?
Thanks!
