A/N: Written for the Reviews Lounge Easter Challenge, titled "The Hunt".
My objects: Embracing, Kiss, Flowers, and an Egg
Warning: A few VERY mild swears (The h-word and the d-word only). If this offends you, please don't read.
Disclaimer: NOTHING IS MINE! PLEASE REALIZE THIS PEOPLE!
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Surprise Visit
A Lily/Scorpius Extravaganza
When Easter Sunday came around and Mum forced us all to the Burrow (I, personally, would rather owl my friends) I wasn't expecting much. Least of all Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy showing up and professing his undying—
Wait. I'm seriously getting ahead of myself.
Let's just say I wasn't expecting it.
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"Mum! Where the hell is Sirius?" shouted my brother, Albus. He still lives at home. By Sirius, he's referring to our crazy, erratic owl. He flies off at bad moments, and has other rather idiotic tendencies.
"Ask Dad! Oh—no, ask James, Dad's stressed right now. So am I, actually. Why do you need the damn thing, anyway?"
Albus ignored her. "James! Winky! Kreacher! Has anyone seen Sirius?"
"Shut the hell up, Albus! I'm trying to generate ideas here! Stress? NOT HELPING!" James, my other brother, screamed.
Welcome to the Potter household.
See, my mother, Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter, is a columnist for the Daily Prophet, and she has a Quidditch section. That's more of a demanding job than you'd expect. So she's always majorly stressed out.
Dad is an Auror, single-handedly saving the world from total destruction (okay, okay, he has help…), and so he's not much better. (Oh, and I might want to mention that he's The Harry Potter.)
James—meh, James is James. He works at my Uncle George's joke shop, called Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Even though he's a Potter, not a Weasley, he's one of the leading men. He and Uncle George come up with the plans for new products. Whenever we yell in the house (which is always) James screams right back, "I'M FRIGGIN' GAENERATING IDEAS!" or whatever new term he's learned. See, he's twenty…and twenty-year-olds are always loopy.
Albus has already graduated from Hogwarts, like James—two years ago, actually—and he is training to become Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Our new Headmaster, none other than Uncle Percy, (taken over for Minerva McGonagall three years back) makes getting the post a lot harder. It figures. He's rather obnoxious, and he's working Al extra hard because he's his nephew. Unfair? God yes. Anyone care but Al and me? God no.
So Al's not really a happy camper either.
And then there's me. I'm just plain old Lily. Well, no. I'm Lillian Luna Potter, Head Girl, Slytherin, Biggest Klutz Ever, and Famous for Being Related.
I hate Being Related. I'm Harry Potter's daughter, James and Albus Potter's sister, Hermione and Ron Weasley's niece; the list goes on and on. I want to be known as Lily. I do not want to get whispers for looking just like The Lily Evans—Harry Potter's own mother! It's all so obnoxious.
And that, my friends, is why I like Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.
Yes, I said Malfoy.
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"We're Disapparating! James, c'mon, grab that bag! Let's go! Hut, hut, hut!" Dad said. He was looking harassed. We couldn't Disapparate on our own front lawn—protective spells—and so all three of us kids adored complaining.
"I'm sorry, Harry…this is so chaotic…" Mum said, sidling up to my dad.
"Look away!" I shouted. We were old enough to know the signs…
"Tomorrow, Gin, I am spending all day in bed with you. We have no time for ourselves."
Mum giggled. I looked away quickly, and my brothers did too, looking repulsed. Hey, we might almost be adults, but come on! Parental make-out session? Puh-lease!
James turned quickly and wolf-whistled. I said, "Ooh!"—You know, getting higher and higher—and Albus shouted, "Feeling hot! Hot! Hot!"
Then we hurried out of our backyard and Disapparated…enter the Burrow!
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When we Apparated on the front lawn, Grandma Molly ran out to meet us. "Lily, you look so lovely! James, darling, I haven't seen you since Tuesday!" And then she absolutely strangled Albus. "You came!" she squealed. "Oh, it's been so long, Albus! I haven't seen you in forever! Is Uncle Percy working you too hard? If he is, just tell me, alright? I can't believe you're so grown-up!"
I swear she was going to pinch his cheeks. "Grandma Mol," Al responded uncomfortably, "it's only been, like, two weeks."
"Exactly." She beamed at him again. "Where are Harry and Ginny?"
"They're making out," James said, as I said,
"Spending Quality Time together," as Albus said,
"Calming their martial urges."
Grandma Molly looked scandalized.
"Fred!" James called, and suddenly it was full-on chaos.
Molly, Lucy, Victoire, Dominique, Louis, Fred, Roxy, Hugo, and Rose ran out of the house, shrieking.
It had been quite awhile since we'd all been together, so immediately we began talking a mile a minute. And we were the only people who weren't relatively calm.
Until Grandma Molly screamed, "Egg Hunt!" and Scorpius Malfoy appeared on the front lawn. And then a zillion things happened at once.
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Back up a second. Rose was just telling me about her current training as a Healer. I was fascinated. Really, I was! Well, okay, I almost fell asleep, but I was still fascinated!
"So I have, like, a hundred years more to go until…well, I can graduate. And I thought I was done with school…"
"Right. Um, hey, I haven't talked to Dom in awhile…I'm gonna go say hi, 'kay?" Rose nodded calmly and turned to Al.
"So, how's life, Albus?" she asked. Lucky Al. He gets to see the fun Rose!
I looked around. I had seen Dominique recently, actually, and the beautiful blonde was deep in conversation with Fred, Roxanne, and James anyway.
Luckily, I wasn't bored for long. "EGG HUNT FOR THE KIDS!" she screamed. We were the kids, though all of us were older than thirteen, thanks very much.
And a second—literally—after she said that, a pop sounded, and there was Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, clutching flowers, his hands shaking, and holding a painted egg.
All was suddenly quiet. Then a roar went up from my newly-arrived father and my uncle. "What the hell are you doing here, kid? Get away!"
"Uncle Ron. Daddy. Chill." And I walked up to Scorpius. "Hey."
"Hey," was his surprisingly calm response. "I brought you flowers—and an egg."
"Wh—an egg? Okay, um, thanks…I think?"
He laughed at the look on my face. "I dyed it myself, you know. Read it."
"It's cold. And so are your hands," I commented, and then I did what he said.
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Let me give you a bit of background information on me and Scorpius. See, he's always been a friend of mine, but really rather secretly. Well, that is to say I'd never directly told neither my father nor Uncle Ron. Mum knew, and Aunt Hermione knew. And all of my cousins knew.
But they still hated him. He and Al sat together on the train, but when Al was Sorted into Gryffindor and Scorpius Slytherin, they—stopped. Old prejudices, really.
But I was in Slytherin too—no one minded, though everyone was really surprised—and so voila! We were friends.
We talked all the time and we joked around a lot. But that was usually it.
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Now, though? Scorpius had flowers. I mean, flowers. Romantic much?
"Scorp?" I asked tentatively. "Um…is this meant…romantically?"
He shrugged and grunted. I laughed, and so he elaborated with a simple: "Your choice."
"Scorpius, come on," I said, annoyed. Why was he being so evasive?
"Look, Lils…" and then I knew what he was going to say.
I thought it over in my head. Yes, I thought. Yes, I'd love to be your girlfriend.
"Yes. Yes, I'd love to be your girlfriend."
He blinked at me. "Um, I was gonna say that I seriously needed help with the Transfiguration essay due next week. I thought it was relative, since it has to do with flowers and eggs."
I blushed scarlet. "Well, you know, I'm indifferent. No or yes. Girlfriend or friend."
"I think…" his voice got very, very low, so that none of my (suspiciously quiet and extremely nosy) family could hear, "I think I'd prefer girlfriend."
I whooped—whoops!—and hugged him. As we stood there embracing, someone began clapping, and then James wolf-whistled and Albus shouted, "Feeling hot! Hot! Hot!"
And I laughed and looked up—and then Scorpius' lips crashed into mine and we were kissing and I almost fainted.
Sorry, horrible run-on. But when your potential soul-mate is snogging you in front of your whole damn family—including you're loopy dad and your old-fashioned Grandma Molly—it's hard to form coherent sentences.
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And that, my friends, is how I became simultaneously a taken woman and an Easter-lover.
