This is a little bit late, seeing as it's set on New Year's Eve, but I really enjoyed writing it and couldn't wait another year before I posted it, so here it is.
It's just a one-shot (if a bit of a long one), but I hope you enjoy it.
Gco.
The Ghost Of New Year's Past
(*)
"We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of this man and this woman in holy matrimony."
What lovely architecture in here! My, my. I shall have to get married myself here one of these days. Just look at those charming little coloured glass window things. Very pretty.
I wonder why father hasn't got anything like that in the mansion. Must be a muggle thing.
Shame. They'd look nice in one of the guest bedrooms in the West wing.
Admiring the architecture, I don't notice Al aiming a sharp elbow blow to my lower ribcage. "Would you please pay attention!"
Ah. Of course.
Forgot where I was for a second. Ah yes. Wedding. Lots of family and friends. Sweet Merlin, Al's grandmother is wearing a weird hat! Hold on.
Wedding. Alright, eyes to the altar. That's where all the good stuff happens, right? Ok. Lovely lady wearing pretty dress with sequin detaling, yum yum, dashing young man wearing fetching suit and...
Eyes back to young lady. That is Rose! My best friend. Well, second best friend, if you count Al who sounds like he is tapping his watch impatiently. "When will the dragons arrive?" I hear him say.
How odd. I wonder why Rose is getting married. She did always say that she would wait for true love before she ever got married, and I never really thought of William Zabini as much of a true love type. Maybe he is though, I wouldn't know.
Personally I find him unbearable. More unbearable than Al after three shots of firewhiskey.
Why is she marrying him?
I stand up. Al yanks me back down. "Wait for the dragons! You must wait for the dragons!"
"I'm done waiting!" I exclaim, standing up. The crowd turns to face me with the most astonished looks on their faces. "The time for waiting is over, the time for doing something about it is here. I OBJECT!"
A loud gasp is emitted from Rose's father, and Grandmother Weasley faints into the centre of the aisle.
"I love you, Rose!"
Rose squints at me, and moves her bouquet from one hand to the other. "The thing is Scorpius, I'd much rather marry Zabini. He has a far better collection of Marvin the Mad Muggle magazines."
(*)
"Wooooo...woooooooooooo!"
! Just a dream. Just a dream. Of course Rose would never prefer someone because of Marvin the Mad Muggle. Of course not.
Bad dream.
Very bad dream.
I peer over the top of the book resting on my face as I slept, astonished by the sight that greets me. It is Al Potter, self-confessed suave and demure lawyer-extraordinaire. And what do you suppose he is doing?
He appears to have flung one of my Egyptian cotton sheets over his head, and is flailing his arms around making bizarre noises. Perhaps he was intending to be terrifying, but after the dream I've just had, nothing will scare me now.
"Thank Merlin I will never have to rely on you in a court of law."
Living in the same flat as him does tend to give you a sort of immunity to his random antics.
Al flicks the sheet off his head. "Wrong reply. Honestly, I bound in here your bloody bed sheets dangling off my hair, squashing the perfection that is my Potter-quiff, and all I get is some sort of reference to my immaturity. I'm disappointed."
I look up from my book again. "Fine. I'll humour you." I place the book down carefully on the table next to me, leaving it balanced on the open page, then I display a look of fake-shock. "Al, what are you doing?"
"Well, Malfoy. That's a very interesting question."
I snort. "Malfoy now, is it. I should have known. This is like school all over again."
Al almost jumps up and down on the spot in glee. "Funny you should say that, because, as it happens, that's what we're getting up to this fine morning."
Sometimes I do wonder about Al. Firstly, because he does things like this – announcing to me that we're going to relive our school days. When we are in fact, in the prime of our lives, ie. 26 and 27 respectively. Secondly, he does like to sneak a little sip of his Grandmother's eggnog when she's not looking at various points during the winter season.
Which, I'm guessing, is the reason why he turned up at our flat giggling like a twelve-year-old girl and hiccupping like there was no tomorrow.
"Ok. What have you been drinking this time? Did James leave some of his Insanity Brew out like last time?" I ask, referring the memorable event, not three years ago, where James, Al's charming brother, laced his morning tea with Insanity Brew (a new WWW product) so that he pitched up at Court raving like a mad lunatic.
Al shakes his head. "Nope. This time everything I say is with a sane mind." He raises an eyebrow.
"You're acting very suspicious."
"Malfoy," he announces, authoritatively, whipping the sheet around him like a cloak and pacing down in front of the fireplace that my father had flown in from France. It's a renaissance piece, and frankly, a little too ostentatious for our poxy little flat in a dodgy part of London. "Do you know what day it is?"
"Err...It's Tuesday." I furrow my brows in confusion.
Oh, he's been at some sort of alcohol alright.
"I mean, what day of the year it is."
I scratch my head, rather dumbly, and grin lopsidedly. "New Year's Eve...I know what this is about...You're trying to make me think of my New Year's Resolution early aren't you?"
Al stops pacing and places his hands on his hips. "Stop jumping to conclusions, Scor. I'm getting there, alright?"
"Ok. It's New Year's Eve...carry on."
I wonder if it would be bad for me to film this? I think it would be quite amusing for him to relive this fascinating experience from the comfort of his soberness. This boy is tipsy. That is all I can say about the matter.
"And do you know what happened on New Year's Eve precisely thirteen years ago?" Al raises a cocky eyebrow, and folds his arms as he observes my reaction to his statement.
Frankly, I have no idea what he's going on about, so my reaction is one of bewilderment. "Err...the clock struck midnight and everyone cheered?" I reply sarcastically.
Al narrows his eyes at me. "Listen here, enough of this sarcasm nonsense. I am trying to help you...and me...and every Potter or Weasley who ever set foot upon this earth. And I think you know why?"
Boy do I know why. He's been harping on about this for near on a month now.
It's her wedding day. To him. Prat-man, doofus-features and general all-round prick-onator – Will Zabini. And for some, entirely unknown to me and the rest of the good world, reason Al seems to think that I can save her from marrying such a prat.
Not sure how he intends on me doing this. Polyjuice Potion, perhaps? Maybe whip out a court order to prevent him from setting foot in any religious establishment?
Anyway. I swore ten years ago when I went to Felbar's Academy for Wizarding Law that I was never going to pine after her again. That all those wasted school years of wishing I wasn't such a complete loser had never happened and I was going to start a new way of life. One that didn't include having a whopping great crush on Rose Weasley.
Too bad I was one of her best friends really. Rather hard to escape someone if they know where you live and keep popping round to check you have enough food in the cupboards.
Anyway. She was happy with that loser. Prat. Knob. Utter sneaky pleb.
I mean, lovely (cue vomit attack) man. She was happy with him, and as her best friend it was my duty to protect her from the wedding crashing plans of her complete cretin of a cousin.
"Al, let it drop. We've got two hours to kill and I plan on filling it with some quality eating. You know the kind of crappy foods they serve up at weddings."
Al sniffs indignantly. "My grandmother's cooking for her wedding. Are you saying her cooking is bad?"
Oops. Accidental family insulting going on there.
"That is it Malfoy. You're suffering through my antics whether you like it or not, and eating is out of the question. Though I may permit you to bring yourself a fig biscuit to nibble on whilst we visit the depths of your past."
I jump up from the chair. "What are you, like the ghost of New Year's Past or something? Come to tempt the miserable Scrooge into destroying his best friend's wedding day?" Al doesn't answer straight away, and I raise an amused eyebrow at him.
Finally he replies. "How did you guess? Anyway, I am the ghost of New Year's Past, and I think Fred is visiting you later to show you a picture he drew of the future."
"You missed the Ghost of New Year's Present," I say sarcastically, wondering why I ever befriended this lunatic on the train in first year anyway.
"Nah...that's me too. It was going to be James, but he got caught up with Uncle Charlie's ornamental dragon statues."
I shiver involuntarily. Just thinking of dragons brings me back to my dream.
"Anyway, stop dawdling, I've got about an hour and a half to show you the past using..." Al grabs my arm and hauls me out of the room, gripping onto my bicep like a vice so I couldn't escape if I wanted to, "...the magical bowl..."
He indicates to his bedroom floor. "So this magical bowl...that'd be a pensieve?"
"I thought magical bowl would sound a little more dramatic," he shrugs.
Resting on the floor of his bedroom is a pensieve, swirling with silvery...stuff. Now, I'm no expert, but Al is definitely not one to be keeping a pensieve, especially seeing as they are rather expensive and we are but poor junior-lawyers living in a crappy flat. And sure enough, I see the engraving on the side that informs me that he has in fact borrowed this pensieve from the Ministry.
"Yeah...weird to think that swirly silver stuff came from out of my nostril..." Al informs me, approaching the matter rather indelicately.
As I am leaning over to peer into the depths of the pensieve, I feel two hands on my back and I topple head first into its contents.
The hand clasped around my ankle suggests that Al – ever the one to be terrified of the unknown – is clutching to me in terror as we seemingly fall from the sky and land in...
The Gryffindor common room?
Oh Merlin. Now the painful memories are resurfacing.
(*)
A party is going on in the Gryffindor Common room, and everyone is there. Everyone I can remember, anyway, and a few people I don't. A banner swooping across the wall in the far corner tells me that this is the year of my third year.
There's Zabini and his awful Slytherin cronies in one corner (must have invaded the party...just like them now really with Ministry bashes) and over in the other...is Rose Weasley. Al, standing next to me, my sheet still clutched around his shoulders, regards the situation with bemusement.
"Aaahhh...To be at Hogwarts again!"
Then his face falls as he observes something to the left. I peer round him and get the shock of my life.
Alright, don't get me wrong, even when I was in third year embracing my pathetic Hufflepuff-ness I was aware that perhaps I wasn't the best looking chap. I wasn't like that dude from seventh year who had girls flocking to him, at any rate.
In fact, I had no girls flocking to me.
At the time I wondered why. What was it about me that made girls just not want to go to Hogsmeade with me?
But now, looking back from my wizened age of 27, at myself, as a tender youth of only 13, I see why. Oh boy, do I see why.
Really, young self, a ponytail? What are you? A bloody 'My Little Pony'? And the trousers. Oh Merlin, the trousers. They are dangling a good three inches above my ankle revealing the tops of a pair of rather fetching socks.
Actually, I think I still own those. Right. Throwing them away when I get back, they look awful on.
Had I ever even heard of soap? I thought for a second I was looking at a pizza, but it turned out to just be my face. How awful. I have resorted to insulting myself. From the past.
The wizarding world, it is just full of the most inconceivable of circumstances.
Al nudges me in the back and pushes me over to where my young self and young baby-faced Al, with his robes trailing along the floor like a train, are standing sullenly observing the party.
Baby-Al turns to Young-self, with a wry smile. "Isn't this brilliant! There's some crisps over there if your hungry...and look! A banner!"
So...Al hasn't changed much. Still the same over-enthusiastic and eternally cheerful boy of his youth. Young-self folds his arms, and I notice the slight podginess of his belly. "I hope Zabini doesn't hex me again. Madame Pomfrey's not going to believe me if I tell her my wand back-fired in Charms again."
"Stop worrying. There's five minutes to midnight and you've spent the last three hours worrying. He hasn't even come over yet! And he won't...he's too busy fawning over Laura Wood."
Al, real Al that is, pats me on the back. "Ahhh...weren't we such adorable youngsters! Those were the days, eh? And so paranoid about Zabini."
"I do vaguely remember having to visit the hospital wing about twelve times a week in third year."
Al gives me the evil eye. "Alright. So we were rightly paranoid about Zabini."
We spend the next few minutes identifying people that we know currently from the ministry, and another few determining how Laura Wood went from averagely-pretty teenager to hideous receptionist hag of the present day.
Before we know it, everyone is chattering excitedly, flicking their gaze up to the big clock on the wall of the common room. Of course! It is New Year's Eve. Any minute now we're going to start counting down!
"Scorp!" I hear a voice call, I turn to find Al – real Al – indicating that I should come join him on the other side of the room. I attempt to nudge my way through the crowd politely, before realising this is a memory, therefore I can just walk straight through people, and I stop at his side. Al tries to compress a laugh. "Look..."
Young-self is standing awkwardly in front of the fire, and Rose is approaching. Oh god.
The memories that I spent so long eternally blocking out are coming back. Merlin. Sweet merciful Merlin.
"Hey. Scorpius, right? You're my cousin Al's friend."
Young-self stands up straight, almost knocking over a small table in the process. Well, glad to know I took my unco-ordination into my adulthood. "Hey..err...Hi...Rose...Yeah. That's my name. Scorpius Malfoy."
Rose smiles politely. "What were you looking at?"
"Oh..." Young-self turns his head towards the fire, and then back to Rose, his ponytail swinging madly in the process. I really want to chop that off right now. Desperately. "Oh...I was just warming up...the fire...it's cold. You know...the snow always makes it cold."
"Right," Rose's smile never falters, even though I can see that I'm messing this up completely. Because I know, even if Al doesn't, that my younger self had been dreaming of this moment for months and months. And trust me, it was not going to plan.
"FIVE!" Everyone shouts wildly, the second hand on the clock swinging closer to 12.
"Errr..." Young-self says.
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
Rose peers up at the clock, then back at the scrawny idiot standing in front of her. Before you ask, yes I am allowed to insult myself. Besides I was quite scrawny. Thank Merlin that Al finally got me interested in Quidditch at Law Academy.
"TWO!"
Real Al elbows me sharply in the ribs. "I saw this earlier, by the way. Sneaky little bugger you were at the time for not telling me about it."
"ONE!"
I give Al a sarcastic look, and turn back to young-self, who is smiling awkwardly at his best friend's cousin, ie. The coolest, most prettiest girl in school. Rose leans forward.
"Happy New Year," she says, and kisses Young-self on the lips for perhaps a second at the most. Then she smiles, and turns away to join her giggling gang of friends who are standing by Zabini's crew.
Young-self faints.
I knew there was a reason that I covered up that memory with the thickest proverbial blanket of my mind.
Suddenly, the scene swirls slightly, and we land at the Burrow in the living room, which is basically empty. I sit down on the sofa, before turning my attention to my best friend, who, for the record, is actually laughing. And I can only assume it is because of the scene he just witnessed.
"You fainted!" He manages to gasp out between fits of laughter. "You got your first kiss and you fainted!"
"Shut up."
"Fainted!"
"Seriously, shut up."
"HA HA!"
Ignoring my best friend, I stand up and peer around the room, trying to decipher which memory Al has brought me into now. In the corner there is a muggle calendar, presumably Al's grandad's, which informs me (through dates having been crossed off) that the day we are in is New Year's Eve, in the year that I turned 20.
I vaguely remembered the evening. It had been in mine and Al's third year of Law Academy, and we had spent the Christmas holidays with the rest of his family. We'd been on a placement for the last year in Germany and so we hadn't seen anyone for ages. So Al got some brilliant presents.
I stole his pumpkin pasties that his sister got him. Don't tell.
By this time, despite the distressing scene I have just witnessed, Rose and I were good friends, but had been contacting purely by letter for the past year.
As far as I was aware, however, nothing that embarrassed the good name of Malfoy occurred on this day, so I dread to think why Al was bringing me here. Unless he'd somehow found a way to manipulate the past so he could get me to faint again.
Eurgh.
I can't believe I fainted after my first kiss, myself really.
Thankfully, Al has stopped laughing now. "Why have you brought me here?" I ask, looking round the empty room. "Nothing happened today."
"Aaaahhh...even the most seemingly ordinary days are important...Besides. I don't know myself. Lily gave me this memory of hers and told me that I had to make you see it as well."
It figures that Lily is in on this little thing. She never liked Will Zabini. She always had this theory that he was cheating on her, but had no solid evidence to prove it.
Just as he says this, the door springs open, and Lily and Rose walk in. Lily closes the door behind them,
"Who is that god?"
Rose shakes her head, and wanders over to the fireplace. "God? Really, Lily. What are you on about?"
"That man. That divinely handsome man that you just hugged as if he was your best mate, who is he?"
Rose turns and looks at her cousin. "That would be my best mate. Best mate apart from you that is. Scorpius."
Lily nearly chokes on thin air. "That is ponytail-boy? That is Al's weirdo little Hufflepuff mate?"
Oh. She will pay for saying that. In the future. When I get back from her past. I am confusing even myself here. Honestly, I am one of those people that you would never trust with time-turner. It would be a recipe for disaster. Me and the complexities of time are really not things that should be mixed.
"I suppose he looks different," Rose admits.
"Different? He used to be the scrawny little Potions freak, and now he is that...that...Come on, Rose? Can't you see that he is insanely fit?"
Wow. I am insanely fit...An interesting development. I have gone from ankle-swinging trousers and greasy ponytail to 'insanely fit'. I suppose chopping off the ponytail may have done wonders from my facial structure.
And maybe growing a couple of inches helped as well.
"Lily, he's my best friend. And yes, maybe he is one of the most attractive men I have ever seen, but it's not like I can go out with him or anything. He doesn't see me that way. We're friends..."
Most attractive men! HA!
Did you hear that! She just called me 'one of the most attractive men she has ever seen'! This is going down in the history books!
Lily smirks, in an evil way that reminds me startlingly like her brother James for a split-second. "Why do I get the impression that you've thought about him as more than friends?"
Rose blushes. "Don't tell Al...It's just...I mean..."
"Spit it out Rose!" I cry. Then realise no one but Al can hear me, and he's staring goggle-eyed at the proceedings here.
"Spit it out, Rose," Lily says, a knowing smile appearing over her face.
"We kissed," Rose admits. Oh Merlin. I can't believe she's about to tell her cousin about the most embarrassing moment of my short life.
Lily gasps. "But I thought you hadn't seen him for a year?"
"No, no. Not recently. It was in third year."
Al is laughing again.
Remind me to beat him up at another time.
"On New Year's Eve, we were standing near each other at the countdown and then, you know, we kissed."
Lily makes a face that looks as though her feelings are darting between disgust and glee. "You kissed Scorpius when he had the ponytail."
"Yeah." Rose grins. "I'd heard so much about how cool he was from Al, and all these stories about what they got up to, that I realised I liked the sound of him. Ponytail, or no ponytail."
"But Rose...I mean...A ponytail? At thirteen? For a boy?"
"Shut up!" She smiles, and she hits Lily playfully. "Anyway, it was ultra-embarrassing, because obviously he had no idea who I was and thought I was a complete weirdo. So, I acted like it never happened and hung out with him and Al."
Lily sighs, mock-soulfully. "And that was the start of a beautiful friendship..."
(*)
I land on the floor of Al's bedroom with a loud bang, and another crash indicates that Al has joined me, back from the depths of that pensieve. I am officially deleting that memory of the fainting kiss.
Knowing Fred and James, they will get hold of it and charge people to go and see it.
Al sits up, and untangles himself from my sheet.
"Have I enlightened you to the beautiful nature of your true love?"
"Al," I state, quite diplomatically. "She's getting married to Zabini in..." I peer at my wristwatch, "...Forty minutes. I'm not going to break a perfectly happy couple up just because it turns out that one of them fancied me when I was 20."
"Which one? Does Zabini bat for the other side? Even more reason to intervene!" Al announces, rolling up my sheet into a large ball and chucking it on the floor. I look at him meekly. "I was joking. I know it was Rose."
"We should probably get changed, anyway."
I stumble to my feet, and turn around. But standing in the doorway is one person I was not too happy about meeting in such close proximity to a memory that could perhaps destroy what little reputation I have. Fred Weasley.
"Not so fast."
"Seriously, Fred. Stop being so overdramatic." Al states, opening his cupboard door and fishing around, presumably trying to find his suit.
Fred groans. "Fine. Kill the mood. I have to go anyway. Here's that picture you wanted." He hands me a piece of paper with a...work of art drawn on it.
That was sarcasm by the way. It is in an annotated stick man diagram.
"This," Fred says, pointing to a very skinny stick man, "is you. And look, you're an old man and you're all alone." The label next to the skinny stick man does in fact state the exact same: Old man. All alone. He then points to a stick man with an abnormally large head. "This is Zabini and he's all evil, and look...he's had nasty Zabini-Weasley mutants with Rose." Several odd looking things that I thought initially were insects are labelled: Freaky mutant babies.
"It's nice," I remark. "How long did it take you?"
"Oh...about an hour I suppose," Fred says, tilting his head to the side so he can observe his masterpiece from a new angle. "So... is that what you want to happen?"
"What...do I want to die miserable and alone while Rose and Zabini have mutant babies that resemble insects holding ice cream cones?"
Fred looks at the drawing. "Actually, that's their antennae. And yes, do you?"
"Well... No. But that's never going to happen."
Fred folds his arms crossly. "Believe all you want, Malfoy. But I consulted Trelawney and my fifth year Divination textbook and both of them point to the same future if you do nothing."
Right. So he's gone for the most reliable evidence...A mad old bat, and a book written by the aforementioned mad old bat.
Ok.
Fred leaves the room without another word, and I have a feeling that he may prank me later for insulting his picture. Honestly...antennae. They definitely look like ice cream cones...
(*)
I straighten the collar of my tuxedo nervously, occasionally flicking my gaze to the back of the church for any sign of her.
Not here yet. But Al keeps winking at me. It's getting bloody annoying. I was put in Hufflepuff for a reason – I don't have the guts to crash my best friend's wedding and destroy the potential for her happy future.
I turn my attention to the front of the church, ignoring the chatter around me. The architecture of the church really is quite lovely. You know, if I ever do get married I will have to get married somewhere like this. Oh, and there's some lovely stained glass up there. It would definitely go with the colour scheme in the main bedroom in the South Wing of Malfoy Manor.
I frown.
Oh Merlin! I'm reliving my dream! Any minute Al's going to start talking about dragons.
I turn to the back again. Al, who is sitting two rows behind me, leans over the woman in front of him and whispers, "James will be here with the dragons soon."
It's happening! Whatever I do I must not stand up and interrupt this wedding. Never! Or I will be rejected for Marvin the Mad Muggle.
Keep your mouth shut, Scorpius.
I am elbowed sharply in the ribs, distracting me from my non-talking reverie. "Oi! Scorpius! We need help!" It's Lily, looking very frantic. She grabs my arm and hauls me into the aisle, practically dragging me down it and out into the faint winter sunshine.
"He's not here."
"Who? James? I know. The dragons will be coming later."
Lily gives me the most freaked out look I have ever seen her give anyone. And bear in mind Al is her brother. "No. It is not James, nor is it a dragon. It's Zabini. He's not here. He should have arrived half an hour ago with the groomsmen."
Trust him to ruin my best friend's big day. I am exceptionally not happy right now. Actually, sod that. I am rather peed off by the whole scenario. He better not be planning to jilt her, the utter prat.
"What do we do?" I screech, like a field mouse on helium.
"I was kind of hoping you'd help us there," Lily says. "She's going to be here in about two minutes, and her future hubby isn't here!"
What do I do? What am I supposed to be able to do in this situation?
Oh crap. That's the sound of her arriving in the thestral pulled carriage she booked from Hogwarts. Crappity-crap.
"She's here," Lily states the obvious, turning around to face the approaching carriage with a panicked look. "Quick, distract her! I'll apparate to the idiot's house."
With a crack she vanishes, and I stand there awkwardly as the carriage draws up and Rose clambers out.
Rose looking so beautiful that for a second I forget that we are platonic best friends and I am my thirteen year old self with the ponytail again. "Scorpius? Why are you outside?"
"Oh...err..." Oh god. This is an exact repeat of how that conversation next to the fire went all those years ago – me stuttering while she stands there smiling. "Err...the choir's not quite ready yet..."
Rose smiles, again, and rearranges her bouquet. She stands there quietly for a second then says, "I'm nervous."
"So would I be if I was getting married. I'd be worried I'd say the wrong thing, or forget what I had to say and then blankly stand there not knowing what to do whilst everyone laughed at me," I input, rather unhelpfully into the conversation.
"Thanks, Scorpius. That really helped," she grimaces sarcastically. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"
"That depends," I say, running a hand absent-mindedly through my hair. "Do you love him?"
She tilts her head to the side. "I suppose..."
I frown. "I suppose?" I inquire.
"I'm not in love like Romeo and Juliet were, but when you grow up love isn't really like that."
"It is," I contradict her, and she looks at my questioningly. "Well, apart from the whole death thing. Oh and the iambic pentameters, because you know the world is modern now and we all talk in free verse and all that jazz." She stifles a giggle in her bouquet. "But really, the magic of it is just the same. Love is love, whether you're a pimply thirteen year old, or a twenty-six year old about to get married."
We both spin round at the sound of a crack, it's Lily apparating to the front of the church again. "I've sent him inside."
Oh thank the mighty Merlin! Rose looks slightly confused, but I just smile and point to the door. "Go show 'em what you're made of!"
Wow. That must have been the cheesiest line I have ever said. It is cheesier than a large lump of mature cheddar.
Lily follows behind Rose, being the Maid of Honour I suppose it is her duty. But I stay behind by the carriage for a moment, trying to avoid the invisible slobber of the thestral pulling it as I lean against the side of it.
This is it. Sod the fact that I love her, I am going to have to man up, grow a pair and watch the guy that spent his teenage years terrorising me to marry her.
This is harder than I thought it would be. Where's Al's grandma's eggnog when you need it?
The echoing sound of the music playing as she walks up the aisle reaches my ears, and then stops and presumably she reaches the altar. I bet Zabini is looking lovingly into her eyes right now. Ewww. If only that was me, then we'd never have mutant babies like Fred said we would.
As I stand there, mildly contemplating whether or not I should sneak into the back and watch the love of my life say 'I do' to a class A prat, when the Gryffindor deep down inside me laying dormant for my entire life says: Hold on, mate. The love of your life is about to say 'I do' to a class A prat and YOU can do something about it!
It is that thought that propels me to the door, and it is that thought that I am thinking when I push them open before I can change my mind.
"Have I missed the bit where you ask if anyone has something to say?"
The chap standing at the front of the church wearing what appears to be a dress and holding a book gives me a funny look. "We haven't even got to 'Dearly beloved'..." He gives the groom a questioning look as if to say: Who is this nutter?
Zabini turns to look at me with a sneer.
Al winks at me. God. He has to stop that. It's starting to get creepy.
"Malfoy, you're making a complete tit of yourself," Zabini informs me heartlessly.
I suppose I am. But as long as I am not rejected because of Marvin the Mad Muggle then I don't really care, because all that matters is standing there at the altar opposite that...plonker. Slytherin plonker.
Rose looks at me wide-eyed. "What are you doing?" she asks. Al is grinning like a mad old man.
"I..."
The faces of the hundred and fifty members of the congregation are turned towards me. My knees are shaking, as though I have just stood on a piece of jelly. My palms are feeling oddly sweaty, and my mouth is dry.
Oh Merlin. This is worse than my dream!
"I...I love you."
"Finally!" Lily declares, dropping her bouquet on the floor.
Al stands up. "Oi. Do mind Lils? My best friend is in the middle of confessing his love."
Rose looks quite shocked. If she mentions Marvin the Mad Muggle in her next sentence I think I will avada myself – I won't even give Zabini the pleasure of killing me. "You love me?"
"Err...yeah. Quite a lot, in fact. You are a pretty loveable person, and you know I have spent a large proportion of my life wishing that one day it could be me standing where Zabini is right now, as Al will tell you. But the fact is, I love you, and I know this is your wedding day, so you know, it's a little bit awkward." Zabini has taken out his wand. Zabini has TAKEN OUT his WAND! I am going to die. I am probably going to die within the next forty seconds, so I better spit it out. "But...Rose, you were my first kiss and I want you to be my last too. And...err... that was my pathetic attempt at a sort of literary poetry sonnet thing, whereby I basically mean I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
Zabini looks positively murderous.
Oh shit.
"That is all," I finish, rather lamely, might I add.
"Why didn't you tell me this before?" she asks, her eyes never leaving mine. "Why did you leave it till now?"
"Because I finally realised what everyone else has been telling me all along, Zabini isn't right for you. And if you only 'suppose' you love him, then frankly, as your best friend and loyal Hufflepuff it is my duty to stop you from marrying him."
Zabini growls with a primitive sort of fury that I have only seen the likes of in Defence Against the Dark Arts classes when we studied werewolves. "Oh this is just getting ridiculously sappy," he announces. "STUPEFY!"
Ah. His wand was aimed at me. Damn it.
And I faint – though thankfully this time it was not my own pathetic doing.
(*)
When I blink my eyes open, I'm on the sofa in my flat, and a cold flannel is being pressed to my forehead.
My head hurts. Oh god. Have I had another dream where I crash Rose's wedding? I really am an awful best friend if I keep dreaming about that.
I lift my arm up wearily and check the time. It's nearly midnight!
Good god. Thank god I woke up in time, I might have missed the turning of a new year!
"AL! He's awake! Bring in a slice of that cake for him!"
I push myself up to a sitting position and peer around. I am in a tuxedo. Rose is sitting in front of me in a wedding dress. Oh god. I actually did crash her wedding! It wasn't a dream this time!
"I didn't marry him."
"Err...sorry about that," I say awkwardly, rubbing my head. I must have cracked it against the concrete slabs in that church pretty hard. "I suppose it was my fault?"
"Partly. And partly the fact that he stunned you in the middle of the wedding with a muggle choir present. He's being tried in court next week for breaking wizarding law. He tried to hire Al as lawyer for the defence but he refused to do it on principle," Rose tells me, taking the cold flannel off my forehead.
"Too right. I'd sue him myself for stunning me in the middle of an essential declaration."
Rose smiles, and sits down on the sofa next to me. "I love you," she says and quickly looks away.
She loves me! Not only does she think I am the most attractive man on the planet (or she did seven years ago...whatever) but she LOVES me!
I sigh deeply. "Thank Merlin. Honestly, it would have killed me if I'd bloody risked death by interrupting your wedding to Zabini only to find out your preferred someone who has more copies of Marvin the Mad Muggle."
"Huh?" she questions.
Alright. May need to fill her in on that dream some time.
I catch sight of my watch again and the second hand is twitching perilously close to the midnight strike.
"Five," I whisper under my breath. "Four...Three...Two..."
I turn to face her.
"One."
And this time when we kiss, I don't faint. (Thank god). And it lasts longer than a couple of seconds. (Again...Thank God.)
Unfortunately, Al walks in a second later with a slice of cake which he throws at us for 'being disgusting'. Honestly, I finally do what he's been begging me to do for the past month and all he does is complain.
There is no pleasing that boy.
Please let me know what you think :) It's a bit fluffier than some of the stuff that I've written in the past - but I was just in the mood for it :)
Gco.