Raindrops on Roses Chapter 21: The Last Summer Part 1: Breaking, a harry potter fanfic

Music Chapter!

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Preview:

Rose felt a crack appearing in the corner of her inner wall. She remembered his face when he begged her not to read the words. She had been feeling, as much as she didn't like to admit it, pretty jealous up until that point, as she told herself she had every right to be, when her boyfriend made plans to meet another girl in Hogsmeade. But when he looked at her like that, she could feel that she, Rose, was the only girl he cared about.

Raindrops on Roses

The Last Summer Part 1

2024

~*-R-*~

"Rose! Wake up sweetheart!"

Rose groaned and pulled the covers over her head. They were pulled back again before she could protest. "Happy birthday!" her mother announced cheerfully, pulling back the curtains and letting painfully bright light spill into the room.

"Mu-um!"

"Rose, it's nearly ten. You've had a nice sleep, but I need you to help me with the food for the party."

Rose, reluctantly, made herself sit up, her hair springing maddeningly over her face. She pushed it back, glad there was no one else there to see. She was not one of those girls who could wake up looking presentable. "Mum, I still don't know if I really want…"

"Don't be silly, dear. Everyone's coming at one o'clock, do you want to me to have to owl them all and tell them you've changed your mind? Come on, up you get."

Rose sighed. Today she turned seventeen. She came of age in the wizarding world. It was supposed to be an exciting day, a day to celebrate with family and friends, and she knew she was extra lucky that her birthday fell during the summer holidays, so she could share it with her parents and the rest of her family. She had been looking forward to this for months. But if she was truly honest with herself, the last thing she wanted was a birthday party now.

The last few weeks of school had been utterly miserable. Word of Scorpius' sudden disappearance had spread around Hogwarts like Fiendfyre, and she was forced to endure either sympathetic words that she didn't want to hear, or people whispering behind her back. She could barely concentrate through all her exams. When she slept she had nightmares of terrible things happening to him, of him being cornered and cursed down by faceless figures in black.

"He's just changed schools," Albus said reasonably when she brought this up with him. "It's not like he's been inducted into a cult, or anything. I'm sure he's fine." Rose was less than satisfied with that answer. She knew her cousin was only trying to make her feel better, but she wished he wouldn't. What she really needed was to talk to Scorpius, to know, for sure, that he was still out there somewhere, and that he was okay.

Her mother at least, having seen how upset she was on memorial day, had made an effort. About two weeks before school ended, a letter had arrived, enclosed with one from her mother which read,

I have had my friend Viktor check on Scorpius, and he assures me that he is doing quite well.

And the letter, Scorpius' letter, helped a little.

"See," Al said, when he had read it. "Told you he was fine."

Rose wasn't so sure, however. She didn't like the way he talked about his classes, about staying up late just so he could catch up on them. It wasn't as though he was at all stupid. He was one of the smartest people in their year. And he hadn't written any names, only initials, so maybe, and it seemed likely, he was being watched. And there was the fact that the letter itself was dated nearly two weeks old, so who knows what might have happened since then?

There was something odd about his handwriting as well; where it was usually so neat and flowing it was somehow stiff. Ever since she could remember, since the first day of school when she had sat next to him in Transfiguration, he had had perfect handwriting. It worried her. Still, she kept the letter with her all the time, just so that whenever she wanted she could read the words at the end, the ones he had written just for her.

R. I miss you. I'm sorry for all this. I promise that one day in the future I will make it up to you.

Loving you, always.

The day that letter had come she had cast a strong silencing charm on her four-poster bed and cried herself to sleep. After that she no longer felt like welling up every time she saw or heard something that reminded her of him. There were no tears left to come.

She pushed back the covers with great reluctance and crawled out of bed. She had a new dress for the party, bought by owl order in March. She had been excited about it at the time, but now it seemed ridiculously frivolous. She pulled it on and looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was dark blue with a slight sparkle around the hem. It was beautiful, but she still looked a wreck. She did some quick charms on her face to hide the dark circles under her eyes and add some colour to her pallid skin. Then she spent twenty minutes combing and charming the tangles out of her hair and pinning it neatly back. After that she felt almost ready to face the world, but she still had to take a couple of deep breaths before finally leaving her room.

"There's the birthday girl!" her father exclaimed when she came down the stairs. He gave her a hug and a kiss. She hugged him back, gratefully. She loved her dad, even if he could be very stubborn and unreasonable about some things. He had been very quiet on memorial day after Scorpius had left, hanging back and letting her mother comfort her. Since they had come home for the summer holidays, he had not said a single word about Scorpius, and she wondered if he was pretending the whole thing had never happened. Still, at least he hadn't tried to talk her out of it, like Uncle George had before they were even together. She still remembered that particular conversation with a twinge of anger.

"I know he might seem harmless now," her uncle had said. "But you need to understand the sort of people he comes from."

"Scorp isn't like that," she had said, shocked.

"Some things are built into people," George had said, seriously. He ran a hand through his hair and she had seen, for a second, the scar on the side of his head where his ear used to be. He wore his hair long to cover it, so that you could almost forget it was even there. "I just worry about you, especially now you're all a little older…"

"We're not seeing each other," she had snapped. "And if we were, I wouldn't care about that."

But Scorp cares, she thought, for the hundredth time as she poured jelly mixture into moulds in the shape of broomsticks and Snitches. He cares, or he wouldn't have left.

But he had to leave, said the other voice, the one that always seemed to pop up every time she had this one-sided argument with herself. His father's his guardian.

He could have said no, said the first voice. He could have refused. Neville and McGonagall would have backed him up. It might have taken months for the French Ministry to do anything about it, and maybe if Scorp talked to them and told them why he didn't want to go, they wouldn't have made him. But he went, anyway.

She was so caught up in her internal monologue that she almost spilled the jelly over the edge of the mould. "Careful," her mother said, flicking the overflow back into the jug with her wand. "Why are you so clumsy lately?" She said it kindly, but Rose felt guilty anyway. It was true that she hadn't been much help since school ended. She spent most of her time in her room, supposedly doing her homework. She found she spent more time daydreaming than actually working. When she did try to help with dusting or washing up, she tended to space out and drop things.

"You can use your wand, if you like," her father reminded her. "You are seventeen now, after all."

"Thanks Dad, I hadn't realised that yet," she said, smiling weakly at him.

"Why don't you go outside and help your brother with the tables," her mother suggested. "The Potters will be here any minute; Ginny can help me with the dessert.

Go on."

Rose sighed and went outside. It was a nice day for it. The sun was shining and the earth was firm underfoot, even in a garden where a slight shower could turn the downward slope into a mudslide. The slope was what was causing Hugo so much trouble putting the tables up. Rose set her shoulders, put Scorpius out of her mind as best she could, drew her wand, and went to help.

~*-R-*~

The Potters came early, at about eleven, and Weasleys started filtering in not long after. Teddy and Victoire came with Bill, Fleur and Louis - Dominique hadn't been able to get time off work. George and Angelina came with Roxie and Fred, who like James were still waiting on their NEWT results. Neither James nor Fred were too worried, however, as they had both been approached by a recruiter for the Chudley Cannons after the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw final.

That game was still being talked about. The Gryffindor Beaters, Fred especially, had been on their best form ever, taking out both Benjy, the Ravenclaw Keeper and Janey, their best Beater, in the first ten minutes, leaving Ravenclaw with two reserves and two hundred points down. There had been three near-misses with the Snitch, two of which had been heart-stopping chases between Albus and James; Al on the Phoenixer which once nearly threw him clean off with its enthusiasm. At least that was how Al had described it afterwards. "It's a broom with personality," he had said, as Ravenclaw nursed their bruises. Gryffindor had won in the end, James performing a death-defying dive that set the crowd to roaring, and far too far away for Albus to catch him in time. Still, everyone agreed it had been a fantastic game. Roxie had scored two hundred out of Gryffindor's four hundred and fifty points by herself. She was not waiting for an offer from the Cannons, though. She intended on trying out for the Holyhead Harpies, Ginny's old team, in the autumn.

Fred was trying out dreadlocks. They suited him, though the way he kept tossing them back over his shoulder set Rose's teeth on edge. The littlest things were liable to irritate her lately. She sat between Hugo and Albus and tried to enjoy herself as guests continued to arrive. Molly and Lucy arrived with their parents, Percy looking as though he hadn't slept much recently. As Deputy Minister he had taken on a lot of Shacklebolt's duties as well as his own, and Shacklebolt still wasn't fully recovered, despite everyone's best hopes. Rose saw Percy exchange a serious-looking conversation with her dad before Hermione forced them to put work aside and join in the festivities.

Neville, Hannah and Lizzie arrived, bringing Belinda with them, and to everyone's surprise, Lizzie's brother Tony. Everyone immediately wanted to know what it was like being a Cursebreaker in Africa, and even Rose cheered up for a while, listening to Tony's stories - which were, everyone agreed, thrilling - and watching Molly drool over him. He was very good looking, Rose thought, having grown entirely out of the moody phase he had gone through as a teenager. He had been in the year above Molly, and she had never mentioned fancying him before now, but Rose could hardly blame her. The guy was fit. Not that I was looking, she said to herself, feeling oddly guilty.

Uncle Bill, a retired Cursebreaker, pummelled the poor young man with questions, but he didn't seem to mind, grinning occasionally in a way that was so like Neville's it was almost unnerving. Hannah kept touching him as if to reassure herself that he was still there. "I panic every month I don't get an owl," she said, patting his hair like a child. "He promises to write more from now, don't you Anthony?"

"Yes mum," Tony said meekly.

"So grown up," Victoire teased him. "I remember when you were a teensy little first year. Don't you, Teddy?"

"I remember him being a pain," Teddy nodded.

"Oi," Tony muttered. "You're not my Head Boy anymore, Lupin. Bet I could take you."

"Don't count on it," Bill said, cheerfully. "Our Teddy's got moves."

Our Teddy, Rose thought. No one had complained when Teddy and Victoire started going out. He had been around so long that it was almost a kind of natural progression. No one, not even Uncle Bill, ever told Teddy he wasn't good enough for his daughter. And Teddy and Scorpius were related. It just wasn't fair.

She wasn't being much fun, plagued by all these gloomy thoughts, but luckily at that point her grandparents arrived. They were her dad's parents, of course. Her Muggle grandparents were rarely seen at family events, finding the onslaught of Weasleys and magical conversation too overwhelming, but Molly and Arthur never missed one. Her Gran gave her a cuddle and a pile of presents, and Grandpa Arthur got all choked up, patting her with a hand that shook slightly, saying he couldn't believe how grown up she was. On top of that, they brought her Uncle Charlie with them, whom she hadn't even seen since his last visit three years ago. By the time dinner was served, with her Gran's help - despite Hermione's protests that she and Ginny could manage - Rose was actually feeling quite cheerful, and thinking that perhaps the party hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

And then Al's new girlfriend showed up. Rose could see Lizzie very carefully averting her eyes as her cousin got up to let Cleo through the gate and kiss her (politely) in greeting. She had to be introduced to everyone, of course, and the girl didn't seem at all phased by the extended family.

Rose knew she didn't have any right to be annoyed. Al had asked her - very carefully - if Cleo could come, and she had said yes, of course. After all, she had nothing against Cleo. As such. Al had started dating her not long after breaking the news that the band's guitarist had been shipped off to Durmstrang against his will.

Cleo had changed the purple stripes in her hair to blue since the last time Rose had seen her, and was wearing an even shorter skirt. Trust her to be fashionably late, Rose thought as she forced a smile onto her face and accepted Cleo's hug. She wasn't sure what it was that bugged her so much about the girl. She was perfectly nice, in a devil-may-care sort of way. Maybe it was just that she felt bad for Lizzie. She certainly wasn't jealous of all the time Scorpius had spent with her on the last few weekends after his seventeenth birthday. Certainly not.

"Dad," Albus said, waving his father over. "This is Cleo."

"Harry Potter," Cleo exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief as Al's dad held out a welcoming hand. "Inever thought I would get to meet you. You are like… my total hero."

Rose saw her uncle smile, but it was that forced kind of smile he got when people said that sort of thing to him. "This is my mum," Albus continued, and Cleo shook Ginny's hand with somewhat less enthusiasm. "Do you… live nearby?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, not really, but I can Apparate," Cleo said, shrugging.

Rose thought she heard her aunt muttering "of course you can."

Cleo and Lily, on the other hand, got on like a house on fire, which Rose could tell was slightly worrying to her aunt Ginny. Her aunt was usually very open minded about most things, but it was pretty clear that she was wary of Cleo's wild girl influence on her children. Hugo didn't help. Rose had to kick him twice under the table when he started staring at the girl's skin-tight top.

"Is that it?" Hermione asked breathlessly, poking her head out of the door. "Is everyone here?"

Rose found herself looking up the road. A small part of her, a part she hadn't dared speak aloud or even think to herself, still hoped.

"You okay?" Al asked quietly, so that only she could hear.

She turned back to the table and nodded. "Fine."

He frowned. "Look, I know he said he was going to come…"

"He promised he was going to come," Rose said. "But that was before." She forced a smile onto her face and helped her mother lower a tray of burgers onto the table.

Hermione was from the Molly Weasley school of cooking, which meant the food was good and there was plenty to go around. There were burgers and chips, chicken skewers and two big salad bowls. Dessert was jelly and ice cream and a two-tiered birthday cake baked by Rose's Gran herself. It was layered chocolate and vanilla with white icing, decorated with little roses around the base of both tiers, and seventeen candles. "It's beautiful, Gran," Rose said after she had blown them out to a chorus of the traditionally out-of-tune rendition of Happy Birthday.

"Tish tosh dear," Molly said happily. "With all of you away at school all year I hardly ever get to bake a special cake anymore."

After cake came presents. There were a great deal of books. There was Quidditch gear, including a new broom from the Potters, an antique chess set, some clothes, and a white-gold necklace from her parents. There were so many that by the time Rose had got through most of them, it was getting dark. They moved inside, those who could stay, the Potters, the Longbottoms, her Grandparents and Cleo, squishing into the living room, the younger ones sitting on the floor. Ron poured wine for the adults, Rose and Albus now considered among them. Rose sipped from her glass. Half of her was glad to have her family and friends around her, to finally have a distraction. The other half just wanted it to be over so she could go to bed.

There were a few more presents, in between the chatter and a hastily-put-together Exploding Snap tournament. Hugo gave her a box full of Honeyduke's sweets. Al gave her a book on spells that used familiars. She wasn't sure Midnight would sit still long enough for her to try any of them but it looked interesting, all the same.

She sat back, ready to relax a bit between snap rounds. She watched Tony casually toss down an ace, blowing up a small pile of cards and nearly setting James' hair on fire.

Then Cleo came and sat beside her, and Rose prepared herself to have to exchange pleasantries. But the girl was holding out a small, square package. "This is for you," she said quietly. On the other side of the room Lily was laughing herself silly as James felt his hair all over for evidence of scorching.

"Oh," Rose said, surprised. She hadn't been expecting anything from Cleo at all. "You didn't have to."

"Well, it's not just from me," the girl admitted, pushing back a lock of blue hair as Rose pulled back the plain wrapping paper to reveal an unmarked CD in a slim plastic case. "It's the last recording we did before he left. He promised to play it for you when it was finished, remember?"

Rose's breath caught in her throat. She turned the disc over. "Yeah. I remember."

"I think he'd want you to hear it. Especially now."

She opened the case, turning the slim disc over in her fingers. CDs were practically ancient technology now, but perhaps Cleo had guessed that they wouldn't have any way to play any of the new high-tech music chips they used for recording nowadays. "You don't have to play it now," Cleo said quickly.

"I know. I want to." She got up and walked past the card table and all the party guests to the old stereo in the corner. Her mother used it sometimes to listen to Muggle music. She switched it on, aware of a growing silence behind her as people became aware of what she was doing. She ignored it, slotting the disc into the machine and, with a deep breath and a silent promise to herself, pushed the play button.

The upbeat rhythm took her by surprise. The way he hadn't wanted her to read it, she had been expecting something slower, more romantic, perhaps even gushy. Still, all doubts she might have had evaporated as soon as Scorp's voice filled her living room.

I woke up in the middle of the night

Out of luck with this girl on my mind

She got away now, I'm trying to explain how

I fell in love, that's what I like to call it

But not enough, it's like I never saw it

Drifting away I am finding words to say

But it all goes whoa, whoa, whoa,

The promise had been not to cry, but somehow, unbelievably, she felt herself smiling. You never saw it all right, you arse, she thought to herself, leaning back against the wall beside the stereo. I practically had to beat you over the head with it. It was like he was calling to her across the miles, the best way to apologise for being an idiot that he knew. She wondered when he had written those words. He had never actually said 'I love you' until the day he left.

What does it take to get you

If I never met you

I wouldn't have ran across the country like

I'm out of my mind

What does it take to hold you

When I'm here without you

I don't know where to start

I've gotta find you and your heart

Before it falls apart

The smile faded. Everyone was watching her but she could hardly recognise their presence, she was so deep into the music. It was like he had known. Of course it was probably just typical artistic exaggeration; he joked about missing her just for the few hours they were apart every Saturday. But the words still pulled at her heart. Suddenly he seemed even further away from before, as though he were living in another dimension she could never hope to reach.

I stayed up in the dead of the night

I made plans if they turn out right

You'll close your eyes and

Think about the times when

We fell in love but didn't try to say it

Knew what it was the moment that we played it

We all lose sometimes, I can't get her off my mind

She found she could hardly breathe. Despite all her resolve and promises, there were tears running down her cheeks, tears of loss and anger and hopelessness. She wanted to reach out and stop the music but she couldn't move, Scorpius' ghost had nailed her to the spot and she was forced to stand there, clinging to the wall as though it was all holding her up, wanting to find him and slap him right in the face for making her feel this way.

What does it take to make it real

The world still spins and I'm still feeling

Your head right next to mine

I'll play it back a thousand times

I wish I took a photograph

For every moment that we laughed

Oh no we can't relax

Cos she's so far away….*

Rose couldn't take it anymore. She focused on the party long enough to see that Hannah and Lizzie were crying, her dad had a face like thunder and Al had his head in his hands, and she knew she couldn't face what would happen when the song ended. She pushed herself away from the wall, stumbling a little, and ran out of the living room and up the stairs. The dam was already breaking, but she made it to her room, slammed the door behind her and fell onto the bed, her hair coming loose from its pins as she pulled a pillow towards her and buried her face in it, before the tears came, and came, and came.

Downstairs she could hear people muttering, doors opening and closing, movement in the hall. She had almost done it, almost convinced them all that she was fine, that she could keep a brave face and make it through the year as though nothing had happened. Why hadn't she waited until she was alone to play that song? She would have been just as upset but at least most of her family wouldn't have been subjected to her emotional breakdown.

She pulled another pillow over her head, trying to block out the sounds of the front door opening and closing as people left. She kicked off her shoes and curled herself into a safe little ball, not caring that her party dress was getting rumpled. The music was still ringing around in her head, all the harder for the carefree, optimistic way he sang, as though nothing could hurt them, nothing could ever come between them. She remembered feeling like that too. They had both been idiots.

We knew it would be hard, she argued with herself. We knew, we just… didn't think anything like this would happen. We thought we would at least be together. It didn't matter what happened as long as we were together.

Ten minutes or so later, there was a soft knock on the door. She ignored it, but the door opened anyway, there was a pressure on the bed as someone sat beside her, and then a hand was stroking her hair. "Oh sweetheart," said her mother's voice, bringing on another flood of tears. "I hate seeing you like this."

"I'm sorry," Rose sobbed, loosening her death grip on the pillows and putting her hands over her eyes to hide her face. "I ruined everything... I'm sorry."

"It's all right," her mother said, pulling her close like a little child and laying her head in her lap. "Everyone's gone home now. They all understand why you're upset. Albus said to tell you he'll come over in the morning when you're feeling better."

Rose swallowed between sobs, feeling a stab of guilt on top of everything else. Scorp was Al's best friend too. Her cousin, for all his glib assurances that Scorp was fine, worried almost as much as she did, she could tell. By acting like this, she was only making things worse.

"I m-miss him, Mum," she managed through the tears, breathing in her mother's comforting scent, the same perfume she always wore. "I just miss him so much."

"I know," her Mum said, pulling her tangled mess of hair back from her sticky cheeks. "I know."

"It hurts so much. He didn't have to go! I know he c-cared about me, but he left, and I know he had to, but… I just…"

"I know."

"No, you d-don't know, you, you always had Dad, he never - "

"Always? Far from it," her mum smiled. "I was madly in love with your father months before he even knew. Before I even knew. I only knew it hurt to watch him drool over other girls. And then, when I was about your age, he left for a while."

"He left?" Rose was so amazed that she even stopped crying. "But, when you were my age…"

"We were on the run, yes. The three of us, living in a tent, constantly running for our lives and trying to save the world at the same time. There was a lot of tension, not to mention we were carrying a dark object around with us. Dad just got to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. I think that was when I realised how I really felt about him, aside from being furious. I cried myself to sleep every night, but the rest of the time I had to be strong for your uncle, since I was all he had left."

Rose stared. She had heard the story plenty of times, but this part must have been left out. Of course, her dad was usually the one telling the story, so he had the opportunity to do some delicate editing. "But… he came back?"

Her mother smiled and nodded. "Yes, he came back. He risked his life to come back to us, because he cared a lot about me and Uncle Harry. Scorpius cares about you just as much. Maybe more. Your dad certainly never risked so much by being with me."

Rose sat up and wiped her eyes. "It's not fair."

"No."

"Mum?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"What do you think of him? I mean really."

"Truthfully? I haven't seen enough of him to form an opinion."

"Mu-um!"

"But… Neville and Hannah both care about him a lot. And I know Neville would never let him near Alice if he didn't trust him.

Rose smiled through her tears. "Yeah, he loves her. He's really good with her."

Her mum conjured her a handkerchief and passed it to her. "And just from listening to that song, I can tell he cares about you."

"It's just a song." She took the hanky and blew her nose.

"Perhaps. I'd like to get to know him better."

Rose stared down at her knees, tangling her fingers in the sparkly blue hem of her dress. "Dad doesn't like him."

Hermione chuckled. "Your dad is a believe-it-when-he-sees-it sort of person. He'll come around."

She wiped a hand over her eyes furiously. "How's that going to happen when he's not even here? Scorp, I mean, not Dad."

Hermione nodded. "It seems like that now, but you're only seventeen. There's still time. You just have to be patient. Now take off that dress and get into bed. You'll feel better in the morning."

~*-A-*~

Al woke up to someone knocking on the door. "G'way, Mum," he muttered sleepily. "It's a holiday."

He was just drifting off to sleep again when the knock came again, and there was a strange rattling echo to it. He realised with a jolt that it was not the door, but the window. He sat up.

Rose was hovering outside his window, dressed in a travelling cloak over a short black jacket and dark jeans, her hair braided tightly back in a business-like fashion. She was sitting on her Lightning broom, her birthday present from his parents, custom made for Chasers, dark red wood and beautifully trimmed twigs. She had one ankle propped up on the broom's shaft, like some absurd pixie. She waved enthusiastically at him.

Wondering if this wasn't all just a bizarre dream, he threw the covers aside and went to open the window. It was just big enough for a person to fit through - or at least, it had been when he was twelve. His mum had caught him at it the only time he'd tried, and the resulting telling-off had been so traumatic he had never tried it again. "Rose," he hissed as she swung her leg all the way over to land with a light thump on his windowsill. "What the hell are you doing? I was going to come over, today…"

"I know," she said, tossing her braid over her shoulder. "I didn't want to wait. I'm tired of being patient. I've waited long enough."

"So?" Albus was getting more and more concerned over where this was going. He glanced over his shoulder to check the door was closed, and only then noticed the time. Seven thirty; his parents would be at work and James and Lily wouldn't rise for another three hours at least. "What's going on?" he asked, but he already knew the answer before she had even said it.

"I'm going to France." Her voice was breathy and excited, her eyes bright - not with tears for once, but with eager determination. "I'm going to find him. Are you coming?"

*this chapter's song was brought to you by Dave Days.

Thanks everyone for your support! I read and cherish every single comment I receive and I do answer questions either in a PM or on my blog if I think others may be interested in the answer. I'm hoping I can get another chapter up next Sunday… and let's just say we're getting to the point where some serious shit is gonna go down.