Envenomed Petals
-IV-
I'm Yours
He swallows, a sheen of sweat breaking out across his brow, and he gnaws at his lip, shuffling ever so slightly as he feels every pair of eyes in the garden boring into him. Paler than he has ever been in his life, he looks to his best mate for some sort of reassurance, and then fights the urge to scowl as he catches sight of Albus making goo-goo eyes at Cassiopeia. His sister is sitting in the front row, a matching look of love upon her face as she fingers the white-gold band upon her ring finger, set with a single emerald.
The pair had been married for a year now, despite Scorpius' fervent protests that his sister is to young to have gotten married at the tender age of twenty, and it amazes him to see them both still look so absolutely smitten by each other. He's come to regret his words, now that it is his turn to await his bride at the altar, who has incidentally just turned twenty a few months ago.
The irony is not lost on him.
His mother is dabbing at her eyes, the first streaks of grey weaving their way through her brunette curls, and even his father looks a little watery-eyed as they stare up at him. Then slowly, a soft tune begins to lilt across the garden and he looks up, throat growing dry as he catches sight of her.
.
"Scorpius, this isn't a date, knock her off her bloody broom," shrieks Cassiopeia, her platinum ringlets streaming out behind her as she whips through the air, Quaffle tucked into the crook of her elbow. A smirk spreads across her face as she changes direction, and begins hurtling for the ground like a bullet, the two Chasers on her tail following in hot pursuit.
At the last second, she pulls up, her hearty snicker drowned out by the resounding jeers of the House of Blue and Bronze as their Chasers smash into the grass, unable to stop their rapid descent with the same precision that his sister had been able to.
For all their hype, Ravenclaws really did lack common sense, muses Scorpius as his gaze moves from his sister to his best mate, an emerald blur against the pale-blue sky. Swinging his arm with all his might, he slammed an incoming Bludger into the sky, cringing at the dull crack that came when it hit the Ravenclaw Seeker in the chest, knocking the redhead off her broom.
Had it been the Ravenclaw's usual Seeker, instead of Lily, who was one of their Chasers, Scorpius is certain that there wouldn't have been such a severe pang in his chest as she plummets to the ground, broomstick falling beside her. Quidditch is a violent game, and whilst the Slytherin team are known for playing dirtier than most, he is quite opposed at having to knock his girlfriend off her StarChaser.
His mouth hangs agape as she spins in mid-fall, grasping for her broom and mounting it mere feet above the ground.
"You'll have to do better than that, Malfoy," she calls, hurtling past him, though he didn't miss the way she clutches at her stomach . . . and he hopes that she didn't miss the ocean of guilt filling his eyes.
.
Lily Luna Potter is absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. Her dress is pure and white, the bodice tight and the skirts flowing, and sewn with dozens of tiny diamonds, each glinting in the sun. Her hair is teased into an elaborate bun, a few crimson strands escaping in an artful manner, and she's adorned with her family bridal jewels, the elegant gold and ruby necklace, earrings and bracelet that had been worn by Doreah Black, Lily Evans, and Ginevra Weasley.
.
He hisses as he steps out of the shower, the cool air stinging at his body as he hurries towards his locker, eager to change now that the grime of the Quidditch Field has been washed from his body. No sooner has he yanked on his jeans, does the door slam open, causing him to whirl, eyes widening at the sight.
A low growl escapes his throat, and Albus offers him a sheepish look, running a hand through his hair, but Cassiopeia matches his glare with one of her own. Had he not known any better, he would have instantly assumed that he was the one at fault, and not her.
"Could you kindly excuse us, dear brother," she snips, "I need to use the showers."
"If you need to use the showers, why is he here?" He gestures at his best-mate, who had the gall to look offended. While Scorpius may have only recently become aware that Albus and Cassiopeia were shagging, at their Graduation Ball several days before the Quidditch Finals, it didn't mean that he enjoyed seeing them together in that way.
And by all means, he was sure that had be not growled at the sight of them tearing each other's Quidditch robes off as they entered the locker-room, he would have inadvertently seen more of his sister and his best-mate than he ever needed to.
"You know how Mum is always going on about climate change and what not?" she asks, causing a look of confusion to fall across his face as he buttons his shirt, wondering what she's getting at.
"Yeah?"
"Well, Al and I are doing our bit by showering together to conserve water, now get out before I hex you so hard that Lily will need a sperm donor to have children."
Her hand travels to her belt, where she keeps her wand sheathed, and he didn't need telling twice as he scurries from the changing room whilst making a mental note to jinx Albus' bed as soon as he gets back to the dormitories.
As the door slams shut behind him, he couldn't resist trying to get in the last word.
"That isn't what Mum meant!" he hollers.
Then he turns, and his eyes widen for the second time, because he finds himself face-to-face with another Potter, one who has no qualms with punching him in the gut as hard as she could.
"That's for the Bludger, love," she teases, as he gasps, sure that he'll have a bruise across his stomach the next morning. "Now come on, why don't you sneak me into the Slytherin victory celebration?"
.
She walks with a regal beauty, and every head turns to watch her approach him, her arm linked with that of her father's. Harry Potter has tears in his eyes, his chest rising and falling as he walks his only daughter down the aisle, and the first sniffles are heard from the front row.
Hermione Malfoy and Ginny Potter are both dabbing at their eyes, tears streaming down their faces as they watch the wedding, but it is the gigantic man in the reinforced chair who's blubbering the most.
Shaking his head at Hagrid, he reaches out a hand to take his bride's as she arrives at the altar, and before he could do anything more than blink, her lips are pressed to his.
"I believe that comes after the ceremony, Ms. Potter," he whispers when they finally break apart, and she giggles.
"Why wait?" she asks, taking a step back and raising an eyebrow at the officiate when the elderly man cleared his throat, seemingly in a hurry to pronounce them man and wife.
.
He lies back on the grass, his head cradled in his hands, his eyes half-closed from the light of the late afternoon sun. She's beside him, using his chest as a pillow, and he draws little circles across her back as they laze. The picnic basket is already empty, and their broomsticks lie abandoned beside the crumbs, both of them content to spend as much time together as possible.
"How's work?" she asks after a time, and he can feel her smile, even though he can't see it.
"Boring," he replies, "Dad's determined to retire in a few years and hand the reins over to me, though I've been insisting that he still has a good twenty or so years left in him before he's old enough to step down."
"How's that working out?" she laughs.
"Not well, I think I'm going to need to complain to Mum about him again," he sighs, because whilst it is true that Draco Malfoy ruled Malfoy Holdings, and had a lot of sway throughout the Wizarding World, it is also true that within the four walls of Malfoy Manor, he is ruled by Hermione.
"How's school? You ready to start seventh year?" he asks her, eager to change the subject away from him.
"Ready as I'll ever be," she replies, "I'm going to miss you though."
"Hey," he points out, tilting her head up with his hand and pressing a kiss to her brow, "All I have to do is connect my fireplace to the one in Teddy's office, and hey presto, I can come around to visit all the time."
"Till McGonagall finds out and writes your mother, and to Victoire. I'll have to make sure I'm there when the Howlers arrive."
"Pssst," he waves her off, "You scream louder than any Howler, and I haven't gone deaf yet."
"Git!" she exclaims, and slaps his chest.
"Your git," he murmurs.
"Don't you forget it."
.
"Do you, Lily Luna Potter, take this man, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"
"I do."
.
"This is a cheesy movie," he complains as she settles down against him, placing a bowl of popcorn before them, and uncorking two bottles of Butterbeer with her wand. An empty pizza box lay discarded to the side, both of them savouring in the joys of being completely alone in Scorpius' new apartment.
"It's a romantic movie," she insists, pouting as she hit play.
"When I suggested to Dad the benefits about adapting Muggle technology to function in magical homes, watching Titanic with you was not the goal I had in mind," he says.
"Shut up, the movie's on," she shushes him, linking her fingers with his as the first scene began to play.
At around the halfway mark he's beginning to doze, blinking whenever he catches himself drifting to sleep, and then he breathes a sigh of relief as the screen fades to black, the word 'interval' flashing across it.
"I swear, this is the last time I let you pick the movie," he grumbles.
"I love you too, Scorpius," she whispers, as she lies in his arms. He brushes his lips across her throat and drags the blanket up to their chins, banishing the chills of the night as they snuggle together, eyes fixed to the television screen.
The movie is more boring than a Divination class, but he's content to be here with her.
.
"Do you, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, take this woman, Lily Luna Potter, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"
"I do."
Without further ado he grabs her, pulling her forwards, his lips crashing into hers, punctuated by the wolf-whistles of the crowd, her Uncle George leading the chorus.
"Then by the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now continue with what you are doing."
"As if we ever needed permission," she breathes, before parting her lips to let in his tongue.
.
"Cassie, Albus, you're early . . . and you brought balloons?"
Scorpius chuckles at Lily's confusion as she answers the door, grinning as Albus gives him a wink and waltzes into the room, holding a brightly wrapped present in one hand, and a green, helium filled balloon in the other.
There's a distinct letter "R" on the balloon, and Lily stares at it in confusion.
"Just deciding to have a bit of a party theme, Lillikins," Albus replies, as Cassiopeia hands Scorpius a bottle of red wine, one of the finer vintages from the Malfoy cellars.
"Dad wasn't very happy with me for requesting the good stuff," she laughs, giving him a one-armed hug as she holds onto her own balloon, a white one adorned with the letter "E".
The doorbell rang before he could respond, and Lily hurried to welcome their next guests. When she returned with an even more confused look on her face, Scorpius fought back the urge to guffaw in mirth at the sight of Alison, James, Hugo and Francesca all coming in behind her, carrying balloons of various colours, each with a different letter on the front.
A few hours later, the party is in full swing, and Scorpius gets to his feet, setting down his glass of wine and clapping to get everyone's attention.
"How about a group photo? Lily, could you get the camera from the kitchen?"
And by the time she returns, they're standing in a single row, their balloons facing her, and causing her to drop the camera, her hands flying to clasp across her mouth as her eyes darted over the newly formed words.
He's down on one knee with a little velvet box in his hand, and he's sweating bullets, because the balloons spell out just two words with a question mark at the end, and he's terrified that she'll give him the wrong answer.
'Marry Me?'
"Yes."
.
He presses his lips to the back of her neck as he removes the pins from her hair, letting the scarlet strands fall across his face, the scent of strawberries and cream invading his nostrils. She giggles, and once he is done with her hair, his fingers travel to the neckline of her snowy-white dress.
"Are you sure?" he whispers, somewhat nervously. In all their years together, Lily and he have never really . . . done anything that involved removing their own clothing, let alone each other's.
"I'm yours, Scorpius," she replies softly, and if her voice quavers just a little, he pretends not to notice. "And I'm ready for this. I've been ready for a long time."
"And you never thought to mention that earlier," he mutters, his fingers finding the zipper and beginning to slowly drag it down, baring her skin, bit by tantalising bit.
His breath catches in his chest as he sees the flash of emerald silk upon her back, and as the dress pools around her ankles and he takes in the sight of the deep green knickers, he feels his jaw drop.
There, right across his wife's bottom, written in silver cursive across the silk is but one word . . .
Malfoy
"I told you, Scor," she laughs as she looks over her shoulder, her cheeks tinged pink, "I'm yours."
Her laughter is cut short seconds later as his lips crashed into hers and they tumble back into the four-poster bed.