She could feel it… she could physically feel the anticipation in the arena, even from where she was situated backstage. The chants from the crowd would be enough to get your heart racing…
"Gol-den!" *clap clap* "Tri-o!" *stomp stomp*, "Gol-den!" *clap clap* "Tri-o!" *stomp stomp*
She had heard all of it before… the roar of the crowd… the deafening screams...the ruckus of a full bodied crowd… but somehow, this evening felt different. There was an intensity, an electricity, a sense of (dare she say it) ...magic?
"Gol-den!" *clap clap* "Tri-o!" *stomp stomp*, "Gol-den!" *clap clap* "Tri-o!" *stomp stomp*
The name had started off as a joke, an ironic jab to dull the ache of a life weighed down by silent expectation. Because they so weren't. Golden, that is. At this point, all three were truly one shade slight of being the dark marks on proverbial family trees.
But now, in the same way the phrase had been branded onto their person as a detached notion of who they were, something out of any control, with a weight "I didn't ask for", it was commercially sealed, something they took back, re-appropriated and gave their own powers to on a seemingly innocuous night fueled by teen angst and fire whisky.
"Gol-den!" *clap clap* "Tri-o!" *stomp stomp*, "Gol-den!" *clap clap* "Tri-o!" *stomp stomp*
The music had saved them, or, at least, thats what Rose believed. Ginny or Mum may say otherwise, but Rose knew where Al had been before that fateful Muggle Studies class. She'd talked him off the ledge too many times to believe otherwise. Music had saved him. She could only imagine it had done the same for Scorpius…
While before, the hushed and worried whisperings between parents would consist of …anti-social behavior…missing class…marks dropping…can't get a word out of them…
They then turned into full blown shouting matches "Galleons on records!? I'm not made of money, Albus!" "Rose Weasley, you will NOT be going to a midnight concert, I don't CARE that it's Aurora Borealis or Hippo-Gruff playing- or whoever it is, you aren't going!" "After hours shows at school?! Who do you both think you are?! You can't use your common room as your own personal venue! Not when your test scores are this atrocious"
Their apathy may have transformed into full blown deviance, but at least there was an energy, an electricity in their actions. Before, Rose and Al felt suffocated; the heaviness of their namesake felt devastating and inescapable. After the music, the sullen and withdrawn youths turned into fiery, aggressive teens whose drive and passion left many burnt in their wake.
The music got to Al first. He had always been one to play closer attention to WWN's 'Magical Music Hour', or get caught up leafing through grandpa's attic-banished collection of muggle records, but it wasn't until his 4th year MS class, and a course on classical European instruments turned his inclination into a full blown obsession. From the very first strum, he could feel something powerful happening inside him. He felt calm and collected. For the first time in his life he wasn't thinking about his incomparable older brother, his worrying mother, his domineering family, his house loyalty, or his father…whose words spoke of understanding and trust, but eyes always said otherwise. He was in control.
It had been months before he shared his secret with Rose. Hearing him play for the first time, stirred something deep inside her. A longing for something she barely could recognize in herself. What he played was unlike anything she had heard before.
Before she knew what was happening, his music inspired a tidal waves of words, seeming to truly pour out of Rose. All the thoughts and feelings trapped beneath her surly exterior, the things she could never confess to her mother or find solace in a friend, came out in prose and poetry Rose was stunned by. They spent an entire summer, hidden in the aforementioned attic, writing song after song; Al taking the lead vocally, with Rose harmonizing with her small voice.
Back at school, students began to notice a change in the two previously unapproachable cousins. It was not uncommon to see Al walking around with a guitar slung round his shoulder; the token red-head by his side intensely scribbling at a notebook. At the urging of a fellow Slytherin, Al put on his first performance in the house common room. It took a bit more than pumpkin juice to finally calms his nerves enough for him to stand on stage, but by the end of the first song, it was as if a spell had been cast on the silver-toned crowd. Usually, jaded to the point of boredom these Slytherins were absolutely awestruck. Albus was soulful, sensitive, energetic and charismatic all at the same time, he completely commanded every eye in the room. Everyone present that evening could sense that they were privy to something much, much bigger.
By 5th year, Albus wanted to expand on his sound and bring things to the next level. Enter Scorpius Malfoy.
Rose wasn't sure if it was a genuine fondness between the two of them, or an equal desire to really stick-it to their fathers…either way, at some point in their time at Hogwarts, being stuck in the same house, they had become aware of each others presence and developed a somewhat mutual respect for one another.
The music had been ahold of Scorpius for longer than he could remember. Where Albus was self-taught and relatively unrestrained in his musical approach, Scorpius was classically trained with technical perfection (the benefit of having a doting mother with privilege to an ample Gringotts vault). Albus played what he felt, what he heard. Scorpius could tell you what you were playing, why you were playing it and he knew exactly what to tweak to bring it to an entirely different place.
All of a sudden, it was three. One unpredictable and unrestrained, one determined and passionate; the newest addition, serious and enigmatic… All three drawn together by a more unifying and mysterious magic than the one practiced.
A pulsing of her wand brought Rose out of her revery. Red hue…and emergency, must be Tommy…always an emergency with him, she thought. She flicked her wand up, the red hue swirling in front of her
"Rosie, love!" a heady voice shouted from the mist "How's Belgium, I hear the weather's beautiful this time of year!"
"Barely portkeyed in this morning, Tom" Rose interjected, "Boys have been sleeping, and I came down early for sound check. Haven't had much of a chance for sight seeing"
"Always the hard worker, time for a vacation soon, right love?"
Rose rolled her eyes, Right.
"Listen, the boys are on tomorrow with Ada Drimscle, 10:30. 5 hour junket Can you make sure they're at least presentable?"
"Of course, Tom." Rose internally dreaded the tirade or protests she would receive from the band members come the morning.
"I'll have Deliah send over details in a bit. You'll be landing in Paris. Have a croissant for me, right love?"
"Anything for you, Tom" she replied, sardonically.
Her wand pulsed once and the red hue along with Tommy's "Ciao" quickly disappeared.
Almost as if on cue, Marty their drummer, a truly unaffecting boy with large eyes, an aimless personality and a fortunate rhythmic inclination, came running toward her.
"Rose-hey!" There was a hapless smile on his face, but she could see a swirling of worrying staved beneath this exterior, "Rose! It's Al…"
Oh Gods. Not again.
"He's… um… he's not coming out-hey. He says he needs to talk to you.."
Rose let out a frustrated groan, and began to book it towards the dressing rooms.
"You lot are supposed to be on in less than 5 minutes! Can you make sure to let him know that next time he decides to have an existential crisis, he needs to do it after you've performed?"
Marty laughed nervously, barely keeping up behind her, "Will do-hey! Next time!"
As she reared upon her destination, she was aware of the expectant glances from crew members. It's fine, I'll handle it… she tried to convey.
"I've been kicked out.." she heard a low voice say to her. She rounded the corner, running into Nadia, makeup artist, "If he decides to come to his senses, let me know." She gave Rose a knowing look, "I'm taking a smoke break."
"I'm so sorry, Nads" Rose called out over her shoulder, "I'm buying you a drink when we're through!"
A wordless wave from Nadia was all Rose could catch as she practically sprinted down the hallway.
A slumped figure sat at the end of it, head resting on his knees. He slowly rose as he heard her footsteps get closer.
Scorpius.
He looked resigned. His face colorless, his eyes lacking their usual snap. A weary expression. He began to open his mouth to speak. She didn't let him.
"I know." she said, calmly, "I know you tried, you don't have to tell me.", a small smile.
His eyes softened, he let out a sigh. A moment of understanding passed between them.
It didn't last long.
A small feminine giggle could be heard from the other side of the dressing room door.
Of course she's here…Rose could feel her skin crawl, the frustration growing deeper still. She placed her ear to the door.
"Al!" She shouted, firmly. "Albus Potter!"
Silence.
"Al, what in the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
Continued silence.
"Al, you know I can and will blow this door off in an instant, so for the sake of you and me and this beautiful venue that has been so generous as to ask you to come perform, please, I beg of you, open the god damn do-"
A resounding click signaled Roses momentary triumph.
There was a veritable squalor awaiting Rose when she opened the door. Empty bottles, toppled chairs, a mysterious green powder in lines on a low table. Oh Al…
More upsetting than any of this, however, was the waif-like, wide-eyed skirt currently draped across her tantrum-ing cousin. Al's latest simpering slag.
"Posey." Rose commanded in a steely tone "Out."
The young girl looked at her blankly, barely registering the presence of the domineering red-head. Rose took steps toward her. She could see Posey now sizing up the threat.
In a voice like ice, she repeated. "Out…Now."
She knew Posey was more scared of her than devoted to Al, so she quickly hopped off him and haughtily wobbled out of the room.
Rose turned on her cousin, her anger barely contained beneath her subdued exterior.
"Rosie, I can't…I just can't" His head was rocking slightly, his eyes glassy and partly vacant. He looked awful.
"You're drunk!" She shouted, waving her wand; the room slowly beginning to assemble itself. "I can't believe you."
"I promise you, I'm not!" He rebutted.
Rose scoffed, gesturing to the steady clink of glass bottles slowly filling the waste bin.
"Pos and I- we just had a few drinks. I'm fine, I swear!" He got up suddenly, teetering slightly "it's not that, I just can't go on stage, I can't!"
Rose ignored his protests, making her way to the bathroom to fill a glass of water.
"You go on in two minutes." she said, handing him the glass, "Drink this."
He dramatically threw up his hands and turned from her, "I told you, I'm not going on! You're just going to have to tell them I'm not showing and we'll have to cancel the whole thing. People will understand…I can't do it"
She placed the water on the table beside her, ignoring traces of the faint green dust. Another conversation for another time.
"You keep saying that.", she sighed.
"It's because I mean it." he said, throwing himself back down on the sofa. "My dad sent another letter."
Rose kept her voice emotionless. "And what did it say?"
"…I didn't open it. I couldn't."
"Are you joking me, Al?"
"Pos doesn't think I should have to. She thinks it'll upset me too much. She doesn't think I should have to go on either."
"Oh! So she's the proverbial voice of reason around here now, is she?! I should hope not." Rose barely managed to keep the mirth out of her voice.
The shadow of a figure loomed in her eyesight. Scorpius silently leaned against the door frame. Thankful to no longer be one-on-one with the man-child currently fuming around the dressing room, she upped her game.
"Fine.", She countered. "Don't go on. Scorpius and Marty can do the show without you. Your fans will be disappointed, but not as disappointed as they'll be when we tell them you couldn't bare to make an appearance due to a mysterious letter from your father and a belligerent girlfriend!"
"Rose-it's not like that-"
"-In fact!" she interjected, letting the anger finally boil over. A calculated effect "Why don't I go out on stage and tell everyone myself that this will be the very last show Golden Trio will ever perform, because not only is their lead singer too far up his own ass to understand how much this means to everyone", she began to slowly walk towards him, "but their manager, the one who has tirelessly worked for years and years to bring this beloved musical spectacle to where it is now, is leaving, due to the fact that she is sick and tired of dragging a tantrum-ing child on stage every night, when she could be doing something lovely by comparison, like breeding Mandrakes in Siberia!"
They stared each other down. Al's exterior was resolute, but she could see the inner conflict. She knew she had won…This time.
"R-Rose" He sputtered, "The letter- my Dad- I can't"
"Al… I'll pull the card. You know I will" She countered in a low tone, for extra measure. She didn't like resorting to it, but this time, he bloody deserved it. "Don't make me."
His eyes narrowed, not yet ready to admit defeat. "Rose-"
"-At least you have a Dad to write you letters."
The low blow. Last cartridge in her firearm. She could hear an exhale of breath from Scorpius behind her, "I would… love the luxury of ignoring a well-meaning letter from my father, Al, but we both know that isn't possible. Do I need to remind you why it's not possible?"
Al's eyes lowered, a final accept of defeat.
"You have ten seconds." She said, quietly, "Ten seconds to walk out this door and get on that stage to your adoring fans or I'm done. One way ticket to Siberia. I'll stop and visit my dead father along the way. Send him your love."
She turned quickly, walking past Scorpius and out into the hallway. They locked eyes for a moment. A knowing look shared between the two of them.
She leaned against the wall for a beat, taking a deep breath and silently counting down.
4…3…2…
—
"How're you feeling tonight Brussels?!"
The response from the crowd was deafening.
Rose had to admit, these moments were what made all she did worth it. All the late nights, the tireless treks from city to city, managing schedules, press agents, stylists, fans, girlfriends…All of it. They were truly spectacular to watch. So much fire and energy and talent… seeing them come alive on stage was what made her tired and jaded heart soar. Al and Scorpius had such a genuine stage presence, and Marty (who hadn't any talent for much else) was a commanding and engaging percussionist. You couldn't help but be mesmerized by the trio.
A shriek from beside her caused a momentary lapse in her revery. Speaking of girlfriends… Posey was standing next to her having a veritable conniption at the sight of the boys playing on stage.
Rose rolled her eyes, casting a silent spell between them. The shrieking was thankfully now just a dull murmur.
That's the problem with watching everything backstage…Rose thought, You can't lose yourself in a crowd… You're very much stuck with the present company…
Posey's shrieking continued… So much so, a particularly guttural scream caught the attention of the three performers on stage. Got to give her credit for tenacity…Rose thought.
Both Marty and Al glanced over for a moment, registering the noise as less of a threat, and more of a passionate declaration of love (something they were used to). Scorpius, on the other hand, looked briefly at Posey but his eyes quickly moved to Rose and locked there.
His expression was…confused? Startled? Rose was unable to read it. He seemed to be uncertain of his own reaction. For a brief instant, Rose was worried there was some commotion happening behind her. She turned around to face the threat, but there was nothing. When she turned back, he was attending to the crowd at hand. The moment lasted for neigh of a second, but it left Rose a bit shaken, wondering as if it had really happened, or if she had merely imagined it.
It had been a very long day…
—
4am. It was four bloody am in the morning.
After a show, there was always a mild ruckus. There was the final song… and then the encore…and then the final final song…then the goodbye…Then the backstage crowd…always a friend from from school… or a friend of a friend…or a introduction from a wizard of an elevated status… there was always some bottle or another being passed around…
This, Rose didn't mind much. Once the show was over, the majority of her job was done. She would even indulge in a sip or two (or three) from the aforementioned bottle. It was always a bit fun seeing who might come through the backstage doors. Many a night, the company was promoted to an evening-long companion for one of the bandmates. Hell, even Rose herself could count more than a few backstage guests who had struck her fancy and somehow found their way into her hotel room later in the evening. (A sizable party currently making an impression in the green room was the German Minister of Magic's young daughter and her gaggle of friends. Definitely a bit of a keen eye for Albus. He didn't mind. Posey definitely did.)
By the time the crew had packed up, the stadium had cleared out and the dummerchen had their pop star fix, it was…late.
—
"Woooo! I love Belgium, Rosie… The nicest people…truly…just…So lovely"
4am. It was four bloody am in the morning.
They had just portkeyed into Paris.
In classic Tommy-fashion, the hotel they were meant to be posted in for their stay in the city, was either mis-informed of their arrival time or couldn't be bothered to stay open till they got there.
Either way, they were stranded in the streets of Paris, with no where to rest their heads for the night. Another shout from Al broke the silence of the early morning.
"Al, shush!" Rose chastised, "You're going to wake the entire street". She was doing her best to alert the hotel owner, and not wake up the entire city while she was at it.
Al was two or more sheets to the wind. Marty was close on his heels, and Scorpius, true to form, was losing his patience.
"I hope you aren't truly devastated by our geographic relocation, Al" his eyes were closed, he was sitting on the sidewalk outside, leaning against the brick wall of the building, "but, if you hadn't noticed, we are no longer in Belgium."
Al, who was slowly spinning round a lamppost, fire whisky bottle in hand, stopped for a moment and looked at his friend expectantly.
Scorpius didn't even bother to open his eyes, "nous sommes à paris, mon ami", he said quietly.
Al widened his eyes and turned his head around slowly, as if taking in his surroundings for the very first time, "Bloody hell!" He shouted, again breaking the silence, "I love Paris!"
"Al!" Rose turned on him sharply, "I mean it! Shush up or find somewhere else to be. Somewhere you can be as belligerent as you insist on being right now."
He jumped down from his lamppost, and ran up to Marty, who was slumped in a corner.
"Mart!", he said shaking the boy vigorously, "Mart! We're in Paris!", he continued to shake, "Paris!"
Mart was awakened from his stupor and convinced to find the nearest open establishment where he and Al could refresh their libations.
"Scorp, we're in Paris! Come with! They'll be birds a'plenty 's my guess. -French birds at that", he raised his brow
"French hens!" interjected Marty, his small body bouncing about in an attempt to stay warm.
"Absolutely not.", he countered, resolutely, still not opening his eyes. "Freezing out here is a welcome alternative to watching you two make fools of yourselves for the rest of the evening" He opened his eye to look at his watch and sighed, "Well- morning."
Al barely registered this as a response, "Suns not out yet, mate!"
Scorpius's eyes met with Rose momentarily, "Besides, someone's got to stay here with Weasley" quirk of an eyebrow, "Keep her safe. Fend off… mimes."
"Suit yourself!" Al called out, as him and Marty jauntily wandered down the street arm in arm,
"Al! You've got to be back here in less than 4 hours!", Rose called out "Please keep your wand on you!"
"Ferme La!", shouted a voice from one of the apartments above. Scorpius chuckled.
"Of course" Rose, said exasperatedly, "He's out here making an absolute racket, and I raise my voice once and I get told to shut-up"
"Sacre bleu…" Scorpius said in a quiet, almost sarcastic tone. His eyes were closed again, his head leaning against the wall. Rose sighed.
"I'm going to try the manager one more time.." she said quietly, almost to herself. After another half hour of unanswered calls and fruitless banging on doors, Rose was disheartened and even more exhausted than she had been before. She had been looking forward to a hot shower and a small bit of rest before the insanity of the tour began again.
She slumped down against the wall and sighed, laying her head on her knees and allowing her hands to drop to the floor. Defeat. She was…so tired.
"M" she heard Scorpius say, softly. She assumed he had fallen asleep. His slow, steady breathing being the one calming presence in her frazzled attempts to get them a place to sleep.
"Come again?" She said, now seeing a small flask in her peripheries. He was offering. She was thankful.
"M" He said, again, opening his eyes and looking at her. "You go first. I went first last time."
Their game. Well, not their game. Just a game… That they played.
"Oh, hmm…" She grabbed the flask in his outstretched hand and took a swig, grateful for the warmth. "M..aggie Magpyie."
"…Ministers of Mayhem."
It started when they were much younger, and had first began playing shows. Lots of tension, even more waiting around. The game became an easy way to pass time.
"Muffy Lato." Another swig.
One of them would give a letter and they would go back and forth naming as many musical artists as they could think of until they could name no more.
Talking, really talking, didn't come easy for either one of them. The game was a safe place, especially in moments when their words seemed to fall short of escaping their mouths.
"Michael Jackson."
"I thought we said 'no Muggle artists' last time we played" Rose teased, "Because you will win if I acquiesce on that point."
"I still win no matter what, Weasley" she could hear a smile in his voice. He paused, "Fine. No muggle-music… Mr. Moke"
"No, no! I'll play your game" She laughed, passing back the flask "I've been brushing up on my music history…um…"
"I'm waiting…"
"Shush- I can't think… Madonna!" She shouted, widening her eyes at her own volume. "Madonna.." she whispered.
"You're going to make even more enemies if you keep that up." another eyebrow quirk, "But good one. Hmm… Meat Loaf."
"Is that a band?"
"No, he is a delightfully eccentric American artist." He took a drink.
"…I barely believe you. But I'm too tired right now to care" She breathed, leaning her head against the wall, staring up at the barely visible stars.
Another deep breath, "Mariah Carey."
A pause from Scorpius, "Who is that?"
She narrowed her eyes and turned her head to look at him, "You've never heard of Mariah Carey? You? I can guarantee she's more well-known than Meat-Ball"
"Meat Loaf, love"
He coughed, seemingly caught off guard by his own words. "Ahem- but this…Mariah…I've never heard of her."
"Oh come on, she's got that… insane muggle Christmas song?"
He looked at her expectantly.
"You know.." She could feel whatever was in his flask begin to melt her inhibitions "It's like…make my wish come true…" her voice got high and sing-song, "All I want for Christmas… is you…"
She caught a mischievous look in his eye.
"You arse!" She smacked his arm, "You total arse."
"Shh!" He said, chuckling "You'll get another shouting-to from our neighbors. "
"I can't believe you made me sing that. You knew the whole time."
"It was wholly decent, Weasley" he smiled at her. "Mariah would be proud." She narrowed her eyes at him and grabbed the flask from him.
"I'm confiscating this" she said, taking another large swig. "It's mine. You can have it back in the morning. After the junket."
Scorpius groaned. "What time does that begin again?"
"Your first interview is at 9…"
"And it's now 5…" he sighed, resigned.
Rose shivered. The early morning mist was beginning to settle. She felt a sudden warmth around her. The freezing brick wall she was sat against became as cozy and inviting as a fire-warmed den. She looked over at Scorpius, to see if he had noticed the sudden change.
He was holding his wand between the two of them, a warming-spell cast, enveloping both. Rose's heart twinged. Dangerous move, young lady. She put the flask down, contemplating the possibility that being out of her right mind wouldn't exactly be an aide considering her tired state and her…surroundings.
"Thanks" She sighed, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. The warmth and the booze mixed was making her very aware of how tired she truly was. Her head began to nod.
"Do you always stand backstage and watch us?" the words seemed to tumble out of Scorpius.
"…Yeah" She said slowly, "I'm usually backstage.."
"You stay and watch the whole time?"
"If I don't get pulled away, yeah" Rose said
"I'd never realized you were there", he seemed to be searching for his words, "I'm typically not looking off to the side when I'm on stage."
"Got to hand it to Posey" Rose joked, "She grabbed the attention of all three of you"
Scorpius smiled, but it didn't reach is eyes. "The power of Posey…" he said softly
"The power of Posey…" Rose repeated, even softer, "Sounds like a band name. Maybe I'll go ahead and manage them as well.."
Scorpius didn't laugh. He didn't hear her. He was off in his own world for a minute. Rose began to nod off again.
"Ro-Weasley, I-"
His voice snapped her out of her dozing. "Hm?".
She looked at him. She realized this was the first time she had really looked at him since Al and Marty left. They shared many knowing, exasperated, understanding looks with one another in the time spent together day to day, but it was always in a crowd, or around Al. When it was just the two of them, alone, unencumbered by Al's domineering and flamboyant presence, or the pressures of running one of the most successful musical acts of their generation, Rose found it very hard, for some reason, to…well…look at him.
She couldn't exactly put her finger on it, but whenever she felt his gaze on her with no one else around, she began to get…uneasy? Not exactly that.. Something about his gaze made her heart pound a bit harder and her stomach churn unexpectedly.
Like now. She was looking at him, eyes flitting from his his face to his hands…his ears…his mouth…desperately seeking asylum anywhere but his eyes.
He was, again, searching for words. He was bouncing his leg, something she'd seem him do countless times before shows or events, something she knew he only did when he was nervous. Oh god…what's he going to tell me now? She could see the conflict on his face.
"Weasley, I- I just- Sometimes… I think-
A panic began to rise in her. Countless possibilities shot through her at lightning speed, each one more devastating and life altering than the last. She had to stop it, she had to.
"Spit it out, mate!" she practically barked.
That was all it took for the moment to be broken. She could see something fracture and then quickly, resolutely repair itself behind his eyes. The spell he had cast was still emitting its warm glow, but she could feel a deeper, icier cold settle between the two of them.
"I was going to say… I'm sorry Al gave you a difficult time earlier this evening." Liar, she thought. But she was grateful still for the change in direction. Al was another safe zone. A common ground for the two of them. Al was always a comfortable distraction.
"It's…just the season we're in right now" she countered, "Once tour is over, things will settle…"
He bobbed his head in silent agreement.
"I just hope he's not too far gone by the time we get there…" she sighed.
"He needs to ditch the skirt. Posey- I mean" Scorpius, countered pointedly, "She's bad news. I'm all for fun and games, but she's got a seemingly endless supply of Alihotsy Powder and…drama"
"Especially drama" Rose sighed, "What he needs is to talk to his father. There's a reason he won't slow down with this…madness. He's making all of this ten times harder on himself."
"What he needs…" Scorpius countered, with a sly grin, "Is an extended stay at Saint Mungos. Against his will."
Rose laughed. "Very true."
"I am sorry you had to bring up your dad…" Scorpius said in a quieter tone, "I can imagine that isn't easy."
"It's easier than you'd think" laughed Rose, "I think my dad would've been proud I use his absence as a form of pure, unadulterated manipulation"
Scorpius chuckled, "I gather that is definitely true, from anything I've heard about him…"
"Besides," she admitted, "I had already won and he knew it. I pulled the card as an extra bugger off for making me panic so close to show time."
"Devious."
They shared a small smile. A moment of silence passed between them.
"Do you think he'll be alright?" Rose asked finally, breaking the air. "Like, truly alright?"
"Who, Al?" countered Scorpius, "As long as you're around, he'll be fine… I think you mean more to him than he lets on. Where you go, he goes." He sighed, "But don't let it get to your head."
Rose laughed again.
"Because wherever he goes, I go." Scorpius confessed, "and you know that."
"Is it hard being so wholly in love with a complete nut-job?" Rose teased, flicking her wand up and tracing A + S = 3 in a glittering font,against the sky above them. She looked over at him, slyly, but his eyes were fixed on the ground in a pensive manner.
"You have no idea…" he said softly. Her glittering letters slowly fell to the ground and burst into small golden fireworks.
The sun was beginning to rise… pink and orange light shone on both their faces. Although it signaled the end of the evening, the start to another hectic day, she was grateful for the warmth…the golden glow… for a moment, remembering she was in Paris, at sunrise… being present in the beauty that currently surrounded her. She could feel her eyes getting heavy again…
She could hear the faint croon of an accordion, echoing through the streets… She almost laughed. How perfectly french.
The melody was achingly beautiful…slow and bittersweet…a hint of hope…
"I know this…" she whispered softly, "What is this?"
There was silence. Rose began to think Scorpius had finally fallen asleep.
"Moon River… wider than a mile…" his soft, sweet voice began to sing, "I'm crossing you in style…someday"
Rose smiled, "Are you singing me to sleep?" she teased.
He just raised an eyebrow, "A dream maker… you heart… breaker"
She wasn't sure it was the breaking light or the music or perhaps something tucked deep inside her she had yet to put words or feelings to…whatever it was, she slowly leaned her head on Scorpius's shoulder and let the last leg of sleep take over her…
"Wholly decent, Scorp" she mumbled, not catching his barely concealed grin.
"Wherever you're going, I'm going your way…"
—