Sunday 30th July
It was a struggle to wake at dawn, especially because of Rose's skewed sleeping pattern since returning from Egypt. But she fumbled out of bed, changing into the soft pink robes she'd laid out the morning before, fighting a yawn as the early hints of sunlight crept around her curtains.
Before long she was of their modest lawn, the dew of the grass cold between her bare toes, arm in arm with the other women in her family, dressed in the same colours.
As the sun crept up, they repeated the lines Rose had practiced the week before, the words both familiar and completely foreign on her tongue.
Nana Molly squeezed her arm reassuringly, as her little sister was brought onto the lawn, coddled warmly in pure white cloth. She was tucked in a wicker cot, which was threaded through with flowers of every colour, and gently placed in the middle of the circle of women. Each took their turn saying a prayer—of good fortune, beauty, intelligence, kindness, happiness—and Rose could feel the magic thrum in their words, until it was Rose's turn to bless the new baby.
Rose thoughts turned to Scorpius, of how difficult it had been for them, but how happy she was they were together finally, and the lengths she went to trying to make him happy. Thinking about him, she blessed the baby with love, and she felt how heavy the word felt on her tongue, how she felt the breeze steal it from her, carrying it over her little sister's sleeping form.
It was Hermione's turn to name the baby—Delilah Jean Weasley-Granger—before the ritual was finished, and Hermione and Nana Molly carried the wicker basket back inside. Delilah had thankfully stayed asleep for the short ceremony, so Rose went to the kitchen to brew tea and coffee for whoever wanted to stay.
It was Rose's first naming ceremony, as she'd turned of age after Victorie's. It had always seemed like a secret little club that Rose had been on the outside of, but with the magic of it still throbbing powerfully in her chest, she's somewhat glad she had to wait.
Nana Molly found her in the kitchen, and pulled Rose into a tight hug,
"You did so well!"
"Thank you." Rose mumbled, still a little shaky. The naming rituals weren't commonplace, but one of the last practiced ceremonies for modern witches and wizards. Rose knew she'd had her own one, seventeen years ago, at Nana Molly's insistence.
"It feels like yours was only yesterday, Rose. Funny how quickly time goes by." her Nana busied herself with the teapot, conjuring tea leaves from thin air.
Rose's head was still cloudy with sleep and magic, but the thought of her own naming ceremony caught her curiosity,
"Nana? What blessing did you give me?"
Molly thought for a moment as the tea steeped,
"Yours, Rosie? I blessed you with peace."
Rose didn't know what she'd been expecting, but the events over the previous year had been anything but peaceful.
"Is it..." Rose paused, still feeling the magic crackle around her, "Does it really work, you think?"
She wasn't trying to show it, but she watched her Nana's expression soften, and Molly reached for her hand, squeezing gently.
"Yes, Rose. Your blessings will always hold true." Molly held her gaze for a moment, "You look exhausted, dearie. Go upstairs and sleep, I'll handle this."
Rose wanted to argue for the sake of being polite, but Rose could almost hear her bed calling to her. Instead she thanked her Nana, and headed upstairs, changing out of the soft pink robes before climbing under the covers.
Rose felt a little better when she woke at noon, at least before the weight on her chest settled again, and she took a deep breath to get a feel for the edges of it.
She hadn't seen Scorpius since Egypt. The realization that almost a week had passed didn't sit too comfortably, but Rose knew she wasn't quite ready yet.
She'd taken the week to digest the news from Egypt, throwing herself into caring for the baby, wrangling nappies and washing clothes. Her mother needed the rest, and even though Ron had told her it wasn't her responsibility, Rose needed the distraction. It was better than lying in bed, the books on her bedside table sitting ever-accusingly in her peripheral vision.
They were still there, untouched. Rose had told herself it wouldn't be that easy. Egypt wasn't a cure, it was a starting point. But it was hard not to see it as a sign to give up. If it was, Rose wasn't ready to acknowledge it just yet.
Rose's dreams had been odd, the magic of the ceremony still hanging over her. She thought about what her other blessings could've been, and how unlikely it had been they'd anticipated such a series of events. It felt like some sort of cruel trick—the prejudices and history of the war hanging ominously over the only relationship she'd ever wanted.
Rose had dreamed of herself in the middle of the circle, wearing the pale blue robes of the mother. She'd looked down at the wicker basket, threaded through with flowers, and she'd known the little baby inside was hers.
Disconcerting, and a little scary, but the idea still played at the back of her mind. An idea nagged at her, insistent but foggy.
Naming ceremony. Rose chewed her lip. It was a stretch, that was for sure, but the magic of blood, of name and allegiance, it was obviously powerful stuff.
Maybe they couldn't beat the curse, per se, but that didn't exhaust their options, did it?
Rose felt more invigorated as the idea began to form properly, and the passage she'd been reading weeks before rose in her mind suddenly. Grabbing the specific text from her bedside table, she raced downstairs to grab her mother.
Thursday 10th August
"But it might not work."
"There's no harm in trying, is there?"
They were sitting in front of the book, in Rose's bedroom, Scorpius staring at the page like he was trying to burn a hole in it.
Adoption by Ceremony
In the instance of children illegitimately conceived, naming ceremonies perform'd can legitimise the existence of such heirs, granting access past blood wards and to inherit'd fortunes.
Qizardfolk yond und'rgo such a ceremony, wilt relinquish any claimeth to family of fusty, and the nameth those gents bore before.
"You couldn't claim the Malfoy fortune," Rose explained, providing the modern translation her mother had given, "and you can't enter the grounds without an invitation, like any other guest."
"And I couldn't be a 'Malfoy' anymore?" Scorpius deduced, and Rose nodded.
"It's just an idea. No one's asking you to give up your name—" she said quickly, but he cut in.
"Oddly, that's not the thing I have a problem with. I just don't know—I mean, I wouldn't want some random name. I don't want to be taken in by some random family because they pity me. And I couldn't join the Weasley clan, that feels kind of... incesty?" He sounded cautious, and she could see him chewing the idea over.
"No, that'd be weird." Rose agreed.
Scorpius was quiet for a moment, "You said you thought of it after Delilah's naming ceremony?"
Rose chewed her lip, "It's hard to describe, but, the naming ceremony was so... powerful. Something about it—you could feel the magic, you know?"
"Sort of. I mean, the only naming ceremony I could attend was my own, on account of having a penis and everything."
Rose laughed, "I'm not complaining about that, trust me. And if all goes to plan, you'll get to attend one soon."
Scorpius sighed, "It's the closest thing we've had to a solution so far. But I just... I don't want to get my hopes up again."
Rose leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. All their affection was so careful and calculated, but she could feel the way he leant into her, softening a little against her.
"I know."
Friday 18th August
"You're rushing into this because of a girl—"
"Rushing into it?! Our family has bore this curse for years, and you think I'm rushing into it?"
Draco scowled darkened even further,
"This isn't a miraculous solution Scorpius, it's an irreversible decision that will end the Malfoy bloodline forever! You can't expect me to be overjoyed at the prospect!"
His father was in his room again, but the atmosphere was significantly sourer this time.
"Who are you to defend the bloodline?! You've suffered even more than I have—"
Dinner had been terse, to say the least. Scorpius had finally confessed what he and Rose were planning, and his father had reacted as he'd expected. At least his grandmother had been there to fight for him. But now Draco had followed him to his room, the rest of the Greengrass household leaving them to it.
"But that didn't make me turn my back on my name, my parents—"
"I'm not turning my back on anyone! I'm working around a horrible curse that our ancestors bestowed on us! There's no reason for you to fight me on this, nothing will change—!"
All his father's stoicism had flown out the window now, and it felt like all the years of emotion Scorpius hadn't seen were pouring out all at once, and his father's face was pure fury. The hair that Scorpius had inherited, the signifier of their curse, stuck to his father's face, which was flushed red with anger.
"Nothing will change?!" his father's voice grew louder, "YOU WON'T BE MY SON ANYMORE!"
Scorpius felt his gut seize. This was what the argument was really about, then. His father didn't care about the Malfoy bloodline—he knew that—but was terrified at the prospect of losing him as a son.
Scorpius voice cracked, "Dad-"
"You take another name, another family, what am I then?" Draco's breathing was heavy, and Scorpius could see how his eyes shined, and the realization hit him like a tidal wave. "What other reasons do you have to call me your father?"
"If this is what it's really about—"
He watched his father try to soothe himself, making an effort to still himself, shut back down into his usual chilled self.
"You know what it's about, Scorpius. I tried. I really did. But I know I left a lot to be desired as a father. I didn't have the best template, you see."
Scorpius couldn't help it. His father had never been the affectionate type, but Scorpius strode over to his Dad and pulled him into a tight hug.
Draco's body was tight for a moment, taken aback by the unusual act of affection, before letting himself relax into the action, placing an arm around Scorpius.
"Dad... you'll always be my father." he said gently, "It doesn't matter what name I bear, you raised me. Your my blood, Malfoy or no Malfoy. Did you think I was going to forget all that just because of a stupid ceremony?"
Draco sighed, and Scorpius realized distantly that he was taller than his Dad now, and he'd never even realized it. No matter how old he was, he'd always seen his father as taller and stronger than him.
"I just couldn't help but think of all the things I fucked up, Scorpius. I know I haven't always been there, I tried not to be distant, but—"
"I wouldn't have wanted anyone else, Dad. I swear it."
His Dad didn't say anything, just squeezed him tighter.
Wednesday 30th August
It had been hard to fasten the white robes, Scorpius' hands were shaking that badly. He hadn't needed to climb into a wicker crib, thank Merlin, but his mother had still fastened flowers of every colour through the fabric, and even slid a few into his hair with a smile.
"Suits you." she winked.
"At least if it doesn't work out, I've got a pretty hairstyle."
He was trying to smother his nerves with humour, but she brushed a hand over his face with a sympathetic smile.
"Worth a try, my son." she kissed him on the forehead gently, before slipping out to meet the congregation on the lawn.
He'd promised himself he wouldn't get his hopes up. He could still taste the bitter disappointment of Egypt at the back of his throat, and he didn't want another course of it.
Scorpius looked over himself in the mirror. The flowers were little pops of colour amidst the pale white of his robes—his hair was the same stark shade.
"Good bye and good riddance, Scorpius Malfoy." he told himself, taking a heavy breath.
It had been difficult to figure out the specifics of the ceremony. The naming ceremony couldn't be performed on anyone of age, and the short description of the adoption ceremony in Rose's book hadn't be clear on the little details. Hermione had spent several weeks fiddling around with the semantics of it all, scouring whatever texts she could find. All they knew that this ceremony was just as old as the naming ceremony itself, and in essence, they'd be performing the same thing, with a few adjustments for a fully grown wizard.
He was scared, if he were being honest. Rose had said the naming ceremony had involved some intense magic, but would it be enough to circumvent an equally powerful curse?
And what if it changed him? Altered some essence in him, so he wasn't the same person at the other end?
But he wanted this. He didn't want his fate determined by a spell of hatred, and prejudice. He just wanted to be free of it. For himself, and for Rose.
Scorpius made his way to the gardens of the Greengrass Manor, concentrating on deep breaths, to keep the intrusive thoughts at bay.
The grounds were beautiful at this hour. The barely risen sun seemed to catch every dew drop on every leaf, a kaleidoscope of pinks and oranges that shimmered in his vision.
The women were already in a circle; both his grandmothers, Hermione, Molly, Ginny, his aunt Daphne, and Rose—arms intertwined—looking soft in their robes that matched the gentle pink of sunrise. And in the middle of it all, his mother, dressed in robes so light blue they could've been as white as his.
They parted for him, and he knelt in the middle. The thrum of magic was unmistakable, it seemed to pulse in the ground beneath him, matching the desperate beat of his heart.
Their voices rose around him, chanting in a language he didn't know, but settled around him with an odd familiarity. The crackling around him grew stronger, making the hairs on his arms stand up, his body shivering with the cadence of the words.
Scorpius looked up, and caught Rose's eye. She nodded at him, and he could see everything so acutely, the fondness in her gaze as she looked down at him. He felt the warmth he always did when he looked at her. All it took was a meeting of their eyes, and the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him ebbed away, and his hands stilled in the grass.
The group performed their blessings, and he held her gaze the entire time, overwhelmed now with gratitude. Gratitude she'd given him so many chances, gratitude she'd fought so hard for him, and gratitude that he'd been lucky enough to live in a world with her in it.
"I bless you with peace." she finished, and he watched her eyes fill with tears, and he knew she felt the same.
His mother knelt to him, placing a hand against his face, her gaze so soft,
"I name you, Scorpius Regulus Draco Greengrass."
The words felt like a lightning strike through his chest, and he inhaled sharply with the intensity of it. He fell to his hands, trying to root himself in the earth, but it was shaking too. His head swam, and just as he thought he could bear it, the feeling began to fade. He took another moment, trying to make sure he was steady, before he gingerly got to his feet.
The women in the circle were staring at him intently, and he wasn't quite sure whether the shock of their expressions was good or bad, and panic began to fill him again,
"Did it—did it work?" he croaked.
"Scorpius," Rose said gently, "your hair."
Scorpius pulled a strand forward in front of his eyes, squinting at it in the light.
He couldn't see immediately—it was still so blonde it was almost white—but then it caught the light of the steadily rising sun, and he saw the hint of golden in the blonde. Like his mother's.
"Oh." was all he could think to say, and Narcissa spoke,
"Summon one of the Malfoy house-elves, dear. That'll show us."
His brain still felt scrambled, but he cleared his throat, "Penny, come here."
Scorpius didn't even dare to breathe as they waited, and no one in the group made a sound, waiting for the tell-tale pop of Apparition. But there was nothing. The group was silent.
"I guess there's only one way to know now." Aurelia broke the silence, and he could hear the glee in her voice. But he only had eyes for Rose.
She had that glint of determination in her eye he'd seen so many times before, in so many forms. It was her face before she threw the Quaffle through his hoops, when she enacted revenge on whatever cruel prank he'd played on her. It was how she'd looked when she'd told him they'd solve the curse, when she'd walked beside him through the streets of Cairo.
Scorpius stomach dropped, "But we can't be sure—"
It was too late. Rose threw herself into his arms, and pressed her mouth against his.
The kiss felt like the ceremony all over again, but more. Instead of lightning through his chest, it was fire, the heat almost too much to bear. It was all the struggle, the fight, the fury, the love, bundled into one furious motion. He felt the others drop away, his senses at capacity, consumed with nothing but Rose. Her scent, her soft, her fierceness, he was drowning in it all. It felt like something clicked into places, something fell into alignment, and he knew this was home. He knew it had all been worth it.
It broke so suddenly, and Scorpius was aware of the cheers surrounding them, but all he could see was the brightness of Rose's eyes, the pink flush of her lips and the victory on her face.
"Are you—" he breathed, surprised he had the air in his lungs to form words.
"Alive?" she pinched her arm, "Seems like it."
They made their way into the Manor after that, Aurelia insisted everyone try her homemade croissants, and Rose and Scorpius found themselves hanging back in the garden, unable to pull away from it just yet.
"Scorpius Greengrass." Rose said, like she was tasting the name in the mouth, "It has a nice ring to it."
"I'd happily be Scorpius Fuckface if it meant I could kiss you." he told her, still a little breathless.
"That'd suit you." she laughed. Her hair caught the sun, and she looked like she was alight in the early morning sun. He couldn't even consider controlling himself, and pulled her in again.
It was a year of ticking boxes. His gift to her—the little book of almost kisses—had turned into less of a wish list, and more of a to do list.
He kissed her on the Hogwarts Express, and again when she laughed at his joke. He kissed her in broom cupboards, after Quidditch Games, and whenever their friends had their heads turned. He kissed her on the shores of the Great Lake, sharing strawberry juice between them.
Every kiss was like the first, but there were so many more to be had. Tender kisses before bed, sleepy kisses in the morning. Melancholic kisses when they said goodbye, and joyous kisses when they said hello (even if they were just apart for one class, he took whatever opportunities he could.)
Every kiss was a little crackle of magic that passed between them, a spark that couldn't be smothered. It always caught him by surprise, even if it felt as familiar as breathing.
There were nervous kisses before exams, and celebratory kisses when they got their results. The kiss she'd given him when he got into his curse-breaker apprenticeship had been so heady, he'd nearly fallen over. And it didn't end with kisses, but that was too mind-blowing to put into words.
And then they'd made a home of their own, shifting boxes into their shitty apartment, taking plenty of breaks for kisses. They made a home for themselves, a home filled with kisses of every kind, but Scorpius knew that whether it was a shitty apartment or an oversized manor, he'd always had a home in her.
Their friends complained, their families teased, but they kissed all the same. They had plenty to make up for, after all.
A/N: Wow, we finished it! I found this chapter immensely difficult to write. It's hard to fit everything in that I wanted to, and I'm always afraid my endings will be anticlimactic or disappointing. I had so many potential endings planned for this fic, it was hard to decide. All I can hope is that you enjoyed it a little, and all I can do is thank you guys so much, again, for all your lovely reviews and support for this fic. You truly inspired me to keep going. Thank you!