~*Throw the Rose Down the Aisle*~
Written by: Cisselah
(Beater 2)
written for Cearphilly Catapults in The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition
Prompts: 6 & 8
~*-.-*~
Rose Weasley had always imagined her wedding going a little differently.
For starters, she had imagined marrying someone she loved, of her own free will, in her own goddamn country. Secondly, she had imagined a big, white wedding with her whole family present, her father drinking himself to death in a corner, complaining about how the man she was marrying was a total prick as her mother circled the crowd to spot young rule breakers that tried to steal some spiked punch. Thirdly, in Rose's imaginations, she had always had a big cake waiting in the background, stuffed with the finest chocolate available.
Instead, she was being dragged down the aisle, only wearing the sheet it had taken four women and a girl to force her into, to marry a total toad because of bloody curse. Instead of the big, white wedding she had dreamed of, the only wedding she was getting was a small ceremony where all the participants not only were total strangers but also refused to wear any clothes below the waist. And worst of it all... the only food available in this bleak ceremony was the ass she was going to chew out as soon as she got out of these bloody chains.
"Brothers and sisters, we have gathered here today to bind this foreign, short, tiny girl to our great ruler and master; Prince Apoplotoastos, and thereby break the curse that the Great God Helios has bestowed upon us" the man behind the altar said in a tomblike voice.
The crowd cheered like starstruck fans on a soccer match.
Rose tried to kick one of the women holding her, but the woman had an iron grip that refused to loosen.
"I'm not short! I'm not tiny!" she shouted at the priest. "I'm normal size! You people are just abnormally tall!"
Everybody ignored her.
Her body went limp as she with dread watched the groom and doom grow closer and closer. Once again Rose wondered why these kinds of things always happened to her. All she had wanted to do was go on a vacation to Greece. Chat up some boys, swim in the pool, drink piƱa coladas all day long and laze under the hot Mediterranean sun.
But, no... some ancient, forgotten civilization just had to happen upon her and decide she was the long prophesized princess that was supposed to save their isolated little isle from a terrible curse by marrying their prince, some bloke named Toasty or something.
And of course the prince she was supposed to marry couldn't be handsome or charming like in all the stories, but had to be ugly and mean and smelling, like a Slytherin after a Gryffindorian three-day siege.
The party-poppers didn't even have the spine to ambush her in daylight but had to wait for night until they snatched her from their bed. They had brought her to their Prince while she was still in her pajamas, and the toad-like Prince had sniffled and wrinkled his nose at the sight of her untamed hair. That'll do, he had declared. Prepare her for the wedding.
Not exactly the most romantic marriage proposal.
They came to a stop in front of the altar. The Prince turned from her to accept the last ritual rites from the priest.
"Don't fight it, tiny one," Mouse whispered from her spot on the left side of the altar. A blaze of hatred went through Rose's body at the sight of the frail old lady.
"You!" she hissed in an angry voice. "Where is he? Tell me where Scorpius is, you traitor! Tell me what you've done to him!"
The High Advisor made a derisive sound. He squinted in her direction with his small, blind white eyes, his lips turned up in a slimy smirk. Unwashed and soil-smelling, the High Advisor was without a doubt the most repulsive man Rose had ever met. His face was all scrunched up, moles covering them like seasoning. His eyes, white and unseeing, was too small for the rest of his face.
The High Advisor had been one of the first persons Rose had met after arriving to the isle. He'd tried to feel her up and then grunted that he wouldn't mind marrying a tiny little princess like her if Toasty hadn't already called dibbs.
As a result, Rose had tried to knee him in a sensitive place.
The High Advisor hadn't appreciated it.
"You talking about the spy, eh? Your lover is dead, tiny one," the High Advisor said, chuckling a chuckle that made Rose want to scrub herself down with sanitizers. "I buried him myself in one of the underground tunnels"
"You're a liar! Tell me the truth, you prick!" Rose shouted at him, struggling to free herself from the women's ironclad grips. Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled with the revelation of her best friend's fate.
No. It was a lie. Scorpius couldn't be dead. Not now, not when she was finally ready to admit she loved him. Not him. Not Scorpius.
Rose aimed a burning glare at Mouse, unshed tears burning in her eyes as she struggled not to sob. It was all her fault. The sweet-looking old lady had sold them out the first chance she got. Scorpius had trusted her to hide them, and Scorpius never trusted easily.
He'd been deep undercover when the Prince's men had brought her to the isle. It had been such a shock to see him there, especially when Rose thought he was investigating a human-sacrificing shaman in South Africa. It shouldn't have come as a surprise. As a hit-wizard, Scorpius was the wizard equivalent of a muggle cop, and the job often acquired a certain level of discretion. On top of that, Scorpius was an expert on ancient rituals, and if this fraud of a marriage wasn't an ancient ritual, then Rose didn't know what it was.
Somehow, somewhere, Scorpius had heard of the search for her and tried, in his own way, to protect her.
Rose just wished he had warned her instead of infiltrating the isle as a French midwife.
But no matter how silly his disguise was or how bad humor he had, Scorpius was too smart to get killed by a blind man that didn't even know what a bra was.
Hopefully.
"The prophecy said that the tiny princess from a flower would break the curse," the priest continued as if Rose just hadn't just called the High Advisor a prick. "And today, with this holy ceremony, prince Apoplotoastos will lie with the tiny Rose and sire a tiny girl that will break the curse of eternal night!"
Hold on a minute.
Say what again?
"We will finally be free to once again see the sun that the Great God Helios forbade us from laying eyes upon, and the spiritual reunion will have brought us our prophesied Tiny"
Oh no. No way. No-no. Not happening.
Rose kicked out with her feet, trying to break free as the High Advisor laughed at her attempts.
"Mr. Wallow isn't here to help you now!" he laughed maliciously as Rose screamed in frustration.
"His name is Scorpius!" Rose spat in his direction. "And he's gonna come for me!"
"I rather doubt it," the toad prince grinned as he waved at the priest to continue.
Screaming, Rose tried to break free once more.
This was not going to end like this. She had so much she wanted to do. So many things she needed to do. She needed to hug her mom and dad again. She needed to ruffle her little brother's hair and tease him about girls. She needed to finish her research in light-altering curses. She needed... She needed Scorpius. She had to see him again, embrace him and hold him so tight no one could ever take him away from her again. She had to touch him, make sure he was still alive, still here, still breathing and laughing and being a snarky prat.
She needed to kiss him. She had dreamed of it for so long. Throwing herself in his arms and pressing her lips against his. Living happily ever after and all that jazz.
Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy.
Forever.
"Do you, tiny girl, solemnly vow to marry the Great Prince Apoplotoastos and be his eternal wife and servant?" the priest asked in a grave voice.
"Never!"
"Alright," the priest turned to Apoplotoastos. "Do you, the Great and Holy Prince Apoplotoastos, solemnly vow to do your duty and accept this tiny girl's marriage proposal?"
"I never proposed! Circe, what is the matter with you!? Scorpius is going to kick your butts!"
The toad had the nerve to laugh.
"Mr. Wallow is not going to kick anything. Mr. Wallow is... dead!" he grinned so widely all his rotting teeth showed.
"Wrong. Mr. Wallow is right here, and guess where he's going to put his now ruined dragon boots?" a familiar voice carried through the temple. As one, everybody's faces shot towards the back to stare at the man that stood there.
Despite the mud and dirt on his face, Scorpius Malfoy was still the most handsome bloke in the room - and he knew it. Somehow, his platinum blonde hair managed to look stylishly tousled instead of messy, and his gunmetal grey eyes were shining with sharp intelligence and amused humor. His black robes, made form expensive Italian silk, were torn in some places and hung open at his front to show way more chest than Rose ever wanted anyone else to see. A nametag dangled from one of the open flaps, the name S. Wallow grinning at the crowd in obnoxious yellow letters.
Scorpius, the prat, managed to totally rock the dirty, up-to-no-good look.
Smirking the way only purebloods could smirk, Scorpius leaned against his broom with a nonchalant look.
"So which one of you wankers want to go first?" He calmly conjured a handful of flames.
Chaos.
Everybody was screaming at once. It was a total chaos, the priest diving for one of the chandeliers, the Prince drawing a wickedly sharp sword, the High Advisor screaming and diving in behind the altar.
Grinning, Scorpius threw the flames at the floor in front of Rose. Screaming in terror, the women holding her let her go as they recoiled from the rapidly spreading flames. Rose laughed. She grabbed a handful of her sheet to lift up so that she wouldn't trip and jumped through the flames to run to the blonde wizard. In the chaos of the flames, nobody tried to stop her.
Poor buggers probably thought the flames would burn them.
Scorpius had already mounted the broom when she reached him. He caught her mid-run and heaved her up in front of him, holding her tight as they rose from the floor.
"Here you go," Scorpius handed her the wand that had been confiscated an hour ago. "Better than flowers and chocolates"
Rose laughed as she accepted it. She gave it a try, waving elegantly as she put out all the flames. The people froze, staring up at her in fear.
"Listen up, cupcakes!" Rose shouted down at them. "I am not pleased with you. You ruined my vacation! You can't run around kidnapping girls just because you don't want to live in an eternal night! You want to see the sun? Fine, you want to see that much, you can see it all night and day, week after week, year after year!"
Narrowing her eyes, she aimed her wand at the crescent moon that peeked down through the open ceiling. A bright light burned at the tip of her wand, her body humming with pleasure as she reversed the curse that encased the isle. Night turned to day, moon to sun, the fear to awe.
"But you're not the tiny prophesized one!" the priest stuttered out. "Your parents aren't flowers!"
Scorpius snorted.
"Read it again, mate," he said. "It says 'from a flower', not 'born from a people named after flowers'. Rose here is from Hyacinth Street. From a flower. Get it? And she turned night into day, didn't she? And she's the tiniest girl I know. Small as a thumb"
Then, before the priest could utter another word, Scorpius turned the broom up and flew them out the open ceiling and into the sunlight.
The sunrays softly showered Rose's face in light as she closed her eyes and breathed in freedom. Scorpius's warm arms encased her and the smell of him surrounded her in a safe cocoon. They had did it. They had actually did it.
Rose was free.
"So," Scorpius murmured in her ear as they flew off into the sky. "How long do you think it takes before they realize it's an eternal day now instead of an eternal night?"
