Third Round in the All Year Long Competition.
I think the date has been extended a week, so I don't have to use an extension, but I don't really know.
But anyways,
Prompts: Platonic Pairing: Rose and Hugo; Dialogue: 'Don't be so modest'; Action: a character must buy some sort of sweet ; Word: stranger; Word Count (with 20 word leeway): 2,139
Word Count: (without the Author's Note) 2,153 (cutting it close, with that one)
Bonus Prompts: a character must quote a famous poet; ice; tension; "Merlin, you're boring."; a brand new pair of roller skates
Warnings: None, really. I suppose a tiny bit of Scorose, but you could replace Scorpius for whoever you want, if you like. Rated T because kangaroos are evil and they start with K.
By the way, the quote is: All you need is ignorance and confidence and the success is sure, by Mark Twain. He did write poems. And he's famous. So he fits the category.
'Godammit, Hugo.'
A tall ginger teen leans against the edge of the ice skating rink. He shakes his head slightly and his face is plastered with a smug grin.
A woman shakes her frizzy hair out of her face to glare at the boy.
'Oh, shut up.'
'Rose! The train is leaving!'
A short red-haired girl runs up to her mother.
She gently adjusts the child's jumper, and whispers, 'You'll be fine.'
The child pushes herself away and runs up to the platform where her cousins are boarding the Hogwarts Express.
A little boy stands in front of his dad, wearing a bright red and green beanie.
His father ruffles his hair, shoving his beanie over his eyes.
'I wish I could go to Hogwarts.'
He pouts a bit and shoves his beanie back up.
'Why does Rosie get to go, and I don't?'
'You'll go next year, sweetie.'
The little boy refuses to be pacified and crosses his arms.
A frazzled mother runs up to them.
'The train is leaving! Come on, Ron! You don't want to miss your daughter's first ride on the Hogwarts Express!'
The family hurries to the front of the platform, just as the train is about to leave.
The little boy just catches a glimpse of red hair and a pink tongue flashed in his direction.
He simply shoves his beanie over his eyes and scowls.
'Hey, Rose.'
She is lounging on an armchair, with a book open in her lap.
'Go away, Hugo.'
'But you said-'
'Can't you see I'm trying to study?'
'But today you said you would—'
'I've got to finish my schoolwork, Hugo!'
'Summer break ends in a whole month!'
'What's your point?'
The eleven year old rolls his eyes.
'Merlin, you're boring, Rosie.'
'Don't call me that.'
The boy grabs the book out of the girl's hands and hides it behind his back.
'Godammit, what do you want?'
'You said you would teach me how to skate today!'
'What, with those?'
'Well, yes.'
'Those are for roller skating, dummy!'
'Oh...' The boy raises his voice, 'How was I supposed to know that! I don't know what Muggle ice skates look like!'
The unopened wrapping on the skates is starting to rip by the time it falls to the floor.
The older girl chuckles and ruffles the boy's hair. His beanie, now discoloured and been fixed too many times to count, is now lopsided on his head.
'Oh, you idiot. And take that beanie off.'
She punches him lightly on the arm.
He scowls slightly and rubs his arm, but still follows her when she leads him up to her room so he can borrow a pair of skates.
It is Rose's last year in Hogwarts, and she passed with flying colours and admission in many top Wizarding universities.
The whole Weasley and Potter families were there, some grudgingly, like James, who had missed his Quidditch practice and kept muttering about how his coach would kill him, others had marked this on their calendar for months like Hermione, who was congratulating Rose frantically, and hugging her so tight she could barely breathe.
'Congrats, Rose! What university are you planning on going to? You've got tons of options…'
'Great job, Rosie! Does this mean you'll suck up to your professors so that I can get into the Curse Breaker's?'
'Rose, honey, great work! You're probably the smartest one out of all of us! …but don't tell Hermione I said that…'
'Thanks Aunt Ginny, but really, I didn't do all that much…'
'Don't be so modest, darling, you deserve it!'
Hugo just shoves his hands into his pockets and sulks, but when it's his turn to congratulate Rose, he hugs her all the same.
'Good job, Rosie.'
She smiles teasingly at him.
He whispers into her ear while hugging her.
'Now don't get a big head about it.'
She elbows him in the ribs.
When it is his turn to graduate, he gets decent marks, and nothing below an Acceptable. He's only gotten into the Healer's Academy in Dublin, but he only ever wanted to be a healer, anyways.
His beanie has been reborn into mittens, as it had fallen apart years ago, and he had worn them despite the unreasonably warm weather.
They clashed horribly with his formal robes, but he could care less.
His congratulations are less profuse, and his mother seems a bit disappointed, but Rose comes up to him, and gives him a tight hug.
Her hair tickles his face as she whispers into his ear, and he has a startling moment of déjà vu. 'Don't worry about it Hugh, Mum'll come around eventually. I for one am proud of you. Who'd a thought an idiot like you would have gotten into Edgecombe's? '
'Oh, stuff it, Rose'
They pull away, and he tries to tell with his eyes that he's actually grateful for her words.
But he'd never tell her that.
Rose ends up with a desk job at the Ministry, to her mother's chagrin.
She works her way up to a high post, but Hermione hasn't had great experiences with the Ministry.
Hugo goes to Edgecombe's. He is away for five years, and they try to keep in touch, but five years strains every relationship, even among family.
When the Weasleys are reunited, it is tight and awkward, and you could cut the tension with a knife. They eat dinner rather fast and return to their rooms.
He fiddles with his brand-new mittens, and she fingers the ring on her finger.
He picks up a parcel in his suitcase and makes as if to walk out the door. He returns to his bed several times, debating whether to leave or not. Taking a deep breath, he forces himself out the door.
She is startled when she hears him at the doorway.
She recollects herself, and says, 'Well, hello, stranger.'
He chuckles and it is deep, and he is not the boy he was when he left.
He glances at the parcel in his hand, and all of a sudden he is nervous, scratching the back of his neck with those god-awful blue mittens.
He looks young and seventeen again, and it is a relief.
'Um, hey Rose,'
'Er..I know you liked those Acid Pops they used to sell on the trollies, so I bought you some on the way home…so, um, here.'
He places them quickly in her hand, and he looks so embarrassed she can't bear to tell him it was the Sugar Quills she adored in her second year.
He cuts his gaze between her and the door before leaving without looking back.
She goes back to touching the ring on her finger, a light silver band with an emerald in the center.
The stone is rough in her hand, and she is reminded of all the things she didn't tell her brother.
This time she is the one taking a deep breath and opening the door.
He is fiddling with the wheels on an old pair of skates when she enters.
His head lifts and he looks startled, like someone caught him with his hand in the cookie jar, but he recovers quickly.
'Um, hey Rose, I was wondering if you wanted to-'
'I have to tell you something.'
His finger freezes on the first wheel, because she seems nervous. She is never nervous.
They are silent for a moment, and she is making no move to speak, except for constantly playing with a ring on her finger. It catches the light coming from his wand, and makes it sparkle in a million shades of green.
He cannot bear the silence.
'Hey, is that a ring, Rose? Where did you get it?'
As if there was ever any doubt that it was a ring. He never was any good with small talk.
He falls silent again, because he doesn't want to make more of a fool of himself than he already has.
She tries to shake herself out of her reverie.
Rose, you idiot! He asked you a question!
She looks back at him, because for the life of her she can't figure out what he had asked.
He has gone back to fiddling with his skates.
She blurts out, 'You wanna go skating?'
It is cold at the skating rink, and the sky is dark and peppered with stars.
It is too late at night for anyone in their right minds to be out here.
But who ever said they were in their right minds?
Hugo is dancing circles around her, while she is trying not to fall.
So different than the way it was the first time they went to this skating rink, where he was the one struggling to stand, and she was the one showing off.
Her skates seem more flimsy than ever before.
It has been years since she has last been here.
Hugo sees her stumbling and tripping over her skates, and gently steadies her, before going to the edge of the rink to watch her try and fail.
'Godammit, Hugo.'
He is chuckling from the rink's edge. She can see him with that smug, irritating smile that she no doubt had the last time they were here.
'Oh, shut up.'
She tries to take a few steps, but ends up falling to her feet.
'C'mon, help me here!'
'I'm sure you'll get it eventually…'
'After all, all you need is ignorance and confidence and success is sure…'
'You read Mark Twain?'
'Who in Merlin's name is Mark Twain?'
She shakes her head, and tries to lift herself up, but slips on the ice once more.
Hugo skates over to her and offers her a hand.
'Just lean on the railing, you'll be fine.'
She makes her way to the railing, and grabs hold for dear life.
'So, what was it you wanted to tell me?'
She hesitates for a minute; she had been hoping he had forgotten, but then all her words come out in a rush, and he can barely understand what she is saying.
'I'm engaged to Scorpius Malfoy, Hugo, the wedding'll be in a few months, and he proposed two weeks ago, we've been dating for ages, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you before!'
'Wait a minute, Rose. So you're engaged…to Scorpius Malfoy…?'
His voice grows softer and darker as he speaks.
'Yes…'
'And the wedding will be in April?'
'May, to be specific.'
'And you didn't tell me?'
He is silently angry, and she can tell he's mad. He doesn't blow up like he usually does, but his voice grows tighter as he continues speaking.
'So, how long exactly has this been happening?'
'Four years, Hugo.'
'Okay…'
'So when you told me that you weren't dating anyone, you were lying?'
'Yes.'
Her voice grows softer, and she is speaking more to herself than him.
He crumples to the ground, and slowly says, 'Okay.'
They sit in silence for a few pensive minutes.
It feels like hours.
'Any other bombs you wanna drop? Are you secretly a Death Eater, Rose?'
'Don't call me that.'
'What? Rose? It's your name isn't it?'
'Just, don't'
'You used to hate it when I called you Rosie.'
'Not really.' She whispers it under her breath, and it hangs like a puff of smoke in the air.
'Well then, Rosie, anything else you need to say?'
He's being mean and he knows it. It hurts, being lied to. He's been lied to quite a bit.
All of a sudden he is yelling at her, and he has no idea what he's saying, and she is yelling back, and where in the world did the supposed Granger level-headedness go?
They are shouting nonsense, and there is no one but themselves and the stars to hear it.
It's probably better that way.
The night has wound down, and the edge of the sky is turning pink by the time they are done shouting.
They are walking companionably back to the house, talking about nothing, and everything all at the same time.
He musses her hair, and she playfully tries to shove him away. He doesn't even flinch.
'When did you grow so tall?'
'I was always taller than you, Rosie, you just must have shrunk…'
'Put a sock in it…'
He shoves her hat down on her head.
'Stop it!'
'I've gotta get you back for all those other times you used to do that to me!'
'Speaking of old times, go wear those stupid old mittens of yours. Those ones are horrible.'
'Bu-bu-but…I thought…'
He fake-pouts, sticking out his lower lip in a comic expression of petulance.
He bursts out laughing, and doubles over.
She starts to laugh too.
And then they are both laughing at nothing at all, and there is no one but themselves and the rising sun to hear it.
It's probably better that way.
