Hey all, first off, this isn't my usual style, so sorry if the characters are a little (read: 'a lot') OOC. But this was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition with the prompt of an establishment of democracy, so I chose the American Revolution. And my additional prompts were the words 'bold' and 'springtime', and the quote, "Don't take yourself too seriously. And don't be too serious about not taking yourself too seriously." This is my first AU, so I hope you guys like it :)

Reviews are much loved, as always :)

~Dani

The Meadow

"Don't take yourself too seriously. And don't be too serious about not taking yourself too seriously."

Rose Weasley hated war. Her parents called it the American Revolution, and they said that their independence was at stake, but Rose didn't care. She was young and bright, and it was springtime, after all. All Rose wanted to do was run though the fresh grass and flowers and lie in the sun for hours, just watching the clouds. But she couldn't, of course she couldn't. Her mother said that she was much too old for that sort of thing; fifteen. Boys her age were already going off to fight. That was good, too, Rose's father kept saying. The Revolution needed to succeed, he said, the Patriots needed to prevail, and independence needed to be won.

On the night when Rose first met Scorpius Malfoy, she had run out of the house to sit by herself, in a small meadow that only she knew about. Her father had told her that he and her Uncle Harry were going off to fight, and that they were taking her cousins with them, James and Albus. Albus, who was only her age, just fifteen. He was so slight, with messy dark hair and shining green eyes, he could pass for thirteen. And he was so kind, so gentle. Rose couldn't stand the thought of him in war, so she left before she had to say goodbye. That would be better, she thought, than having to see him one last time, when she knew what could happen.

She was sitting alone on the grass, staring into the stars. Later, she'd wonder if she should have asked them to keep her family safe, but presently, she was content with just sitting quietly, pretending that she couldn't hear the marching feet in the distance, or see the smoke rising into the sky.

But her peaceful solitude was interrupted sooner than she would have liked, as a boy stepped around a tree and into her clearing. He looked about her age, with pale, ivory skin and platinum blonde hair to match. He wasn't dressed in war clothes, but he had that sort of look about him; wary eyes with dark circles under them, and bloodied knuckles visible even in the moonlight.

For a reason Rose couldn't comprehend, he relaxed visibly upon seeing her there. He walked into the clearing slowly, hands raised in front of him. "Hello, he said finally, and stopped halfway across the meadow from her, keeping his distance.

"Hello," she said simply, and then, "I'm Rose. Who are you?"

"Scorpius," he said, "Scorpius Malfoy. May I sit with you?"

Rose paused a moment before answering. "All right," she said, and he sat down carefully on the grass in front of her.

He smiled, a playful, joking smile, that despite everything, made Rose smile back. "Why are you out here all alone?" he asked.

She didn't want talk about Albus or her other family who had gone off to war, so she evaded the question. "Why are you?" Rose had been taught to never answer a question with a question, especially to a person she'd just met, but something about Scorpius Malfoy made her feel bold.

He didn't chide her for her childish avoidance of his question, but instead, kept smiling. "I was looking for someone."

"Oh," said Rose, "I could help you find them if you'd like. This town isn't very large, you know. I know almost everyone."

Scorpius just shook his head, "I'm not looking for anyone in particular," he told her, "Just someone to talk to. My father has gone to fight in the war, and my mother has gone to help as a nurse. I fought for a while, but I didn't last long. I left, and not even my father noticed I was gone. I just wanted to find someone to talk to. Someone other than a soldier.

"Oh," Rose said again, and she thought to herself that Scorpius must have thought that she was quite simple minded, not saying anything of intelligence at all.

Scorpius didn't seem to mind, though. Perhaps he was just so deprived of human contact that anyone would do, because he looked at Rose as if she was the most fascinating being he'd ever seen. No one had ever looked at her that way before, and although it wasn't entirely unwelcome, it made her shift uncomfortably. So cringing inwardly at her own cowardice, she stood up. "I must go back home," she said, "Before my mother starts to worry." Then after a quick moment of consideration, she added, "But I would like to talk to you again. You can come back here tomorrow if you wish. I tend to come here a lot."

Rose turned to leave, and only when Scorpius lifted his hand to wave did she see a pin of the English flag attached to his jacket, along with the badge for a Loyalist soldier.

Rose knew what it meant, and it kept her up at night. Knowing that Scorpius and his family had fought against the Patriots, against her family, made her palms tingle with nervousness. Her mother would never approve of her befriending a Loyalist boy. But it didn't stop her from going back to the clearing the next night. And he was waiting for her, as she thought he'd be.

They sat together on the grass, laughing and talking, about anything but the war. Because Scorpius didn't seem to want to talk about it any more than Rose did. It was easier than she had predicted to avoid telling Scorpius about her family's position in the war, and soon, it slipped from her mind.

And that's how it started. Every night, the two of them would meet under the moonlight, in that small meadow that only they knew about. Rose didn't know what Scorpius did during the day, and she didn't ask, nor did he ask about her. It was peaceful, this forbidden friendship that he didn't even know was forbidden. Just another secret Rose had to keep.

As the weeks passed, Rose felt herself getting lighter. She stopped worrying about Albus and her father so much, and only thought of them enough to wish them safety before moving on to think about other things. She could feel the sunlight on her face when she walked outside, and she smiled into the wind that rustled her clothes and blew through her long, red hair. Rose Weasley was, for the first time since the war started, happy.

Her mother noticed the change as well, but when she asked about it, Rose simply said that it was springtime, and that spring made everyone happier. Her mother sighed, not completely believing, but let it go and went back to her book.

Scorpius showed up at her meadow every night, and so did she. After a while, she'd see him out in daylight too, but he'd just drop her a wink and melt away into the crowd. They would laugh about it later, and he would say that she must have imagined it, although they both knew that wasn't the case. They laughed about most things, really; they never took anything seriously, not each other, nor the world, nor themselves. They were, simply, children; careless and free.

But after a month, a few weeks, and a day- Rose counted- something changed. Scorpius was still there, as he always was, waiting for her in the clearing, but his pale blue eyes were wide with unhappiness. She didn't question him though, because that was one of their unspoken agreements, never to interrogate one another. So she only found out what he wanted to say just before it was time for her to go back home.

"Rose," he said, "My father has found way to contact me."

Rose waited, not understanding what he meant.

"He wants me to help him in battle. He's found where I am now, and has sent someone to collect me. He's bringing me back to the war."

Rose, despite the fact that she knew this might happen, couldn't breathe. Her best friend since Albus had left, the only one who made her laugh, who she could confide in, was going off to war. And not only that, he'd be fighting with the Loyalists, against her own family.

She stumbled, and without even saying goodbye, she fled back to her home. The next day, she found herself at her meadow, just out of habit, and she discovered four words etched into the dirt. 'I'm sorry,' and 'Goodbye, Rose.'

She never went back to that meadow again, it seemed much to empty now.

Rose Weasley hated war.