15.
7.31.11
Gardenia
MollyScorpius
tattoo, memorial, ribbon
"I shouldn't be here."
"You have every right to be here, Scorpius," Molly said quietly.
Easy for her to say. She wasn't being stared at like she had the words My father was a Death Eater tattooed across her forehead. People didn't whisper her name as they passed. No, she had no idea how he felt, how he had absolutely no right to be here at this war memorial, remembering those who had fallen for a cause that the very name 'Malfoy' was completely against.
"I really want to go," he whispered to her, trying not to sound like a little kid while ignoring (not really) the laser gazes he felt being aimed at every part of him. "Please, Molly."
She stopped before a table on the far side of the room that had a single brightly burning candle and a bowl filled with white ribbons—tributes to the fallen. She tied one around her wrist then moved to take his, but he shoved his hands into his pockets.
"This war was all of ours," she said. "So was the victory. And so are the losses. Who are they to tell you otherwise?"
Scorpius said nothing, closing his eyes. The clean, fresh scent of gardenias wafted toward him from the candle, the stares of everyone present burned him, and Molly's small fingers eased his hand out of his pocket and tied a ribbon around his wrist, but with his eyes closed, he found that he could almost believe her.