Chap one right on ahead folks.
Chapter I. "- So that we may have roses in December.
Scorpius would always remember the scent of his mother's perfume. It was sweet yet not overwhelmingly so, not the kind that old ladies drench themselves in and cause nausea for those poor people surrounding them.
No, the sweet smell was met by other scents that evened it out; he remembered more than one occasion when a guest or friend of the family sniffed the air when they were around his mother, trying to catch another whiff of that delightful scent.
The formula was not common. In fact, he would even go as far as to claim that his mother had been the only one that had known of it, possibly with exception of Malfoy ladies from earlier generations. The main ingredient was a flower that could be found in one place only; the garden of Malfoy manor. His mother had showed it to him on several occasions and he could still recall its shape and colours if he tried hard enough. The petals had been of a beautiful shade of lavender, but what had been truly remarkable, aside from the aroma, had been the texture. When touching the petal it felt soft and smooth like expensive silk, but if you tried to pull the petal off you discovered that the flower was sturdier than you had thought.
This special flower, his mother had told his of the name but he could not remember it, was impossible to take apart until the flower itself had dried up. That, she had told him, was true beauty. Real, pure beauty was not easy to destroy, instead it lived on despite of what the world inflicted on it. True beauty was neither delicate or weak, but strong and capable of defending itself.
He had reminded himself of those words when his mother had died while protecting him and the other children that had gathered to celebrate Marion Goldfield's birthday at her parents' house. His mother had been a being of perfect beauty, throwing aside her wand when she had discovered it useless and grabbing a shovel while shouting at the kids to leave. She had gone down after a hard fight with the shovel still in a hard grip, not releasing her weapon even in death.
But Scorpius knew that she was not truly gone. Dead, yes, but not gone. Her beauty remained, if not in her body then in the very air that surrounding them and he knew right then and there that she would always be there, always protecting him, even if he could not see her. True beauty was immortal and so was his mother.
When his father had sent him away he had not been given much time to pack, Draco had wanted his son out of danger's way as soon as possible. His fathered had helped him pack, stuffing as many of his regular clothes as possible into an old backpack before sending him off to collect whatever he deemed himself unable to leave behind. His father had probably assumed that he would run after an old teddy bears or something of the sort, but instead, Scorpius ran for his mother's restroom.
He had quickly found his mother's old bottle of perfume and came back to his father with the flask tightly in his small hands. If his father had thought of saying something about it, the words had been stopped by Scorpius' stern eyes. This, he would not give up, his silver eyes had declared. His father had not the heart to disagree. An hour later he had found himself in a secret harbour, hidden by the darkness and pulled forward by his father's strong hand, glancing up at the yellow moon which shone deceivingly in the sky.
As they had gotten closer to the water he had spotted other people, not just one, two or five, no, their number must have been at least fifty. Several of them had been adults, but most of them had been children in his own age, some younger. The children had been hugged and kissed by their parents, receiving pats on heads and shoulders along with last-minute advices. The scene had very much reminded him of what his father had told him of platform 9 ¾, with one exception. Everyone had been crying.
Children had clung to their parents as they had been ordered to board the rather small ship that had been tied by the shore, not wanting to leave behind everything and everyone they knew and held dear. The parents had not been happy either, their fists and lips had clenched tightly as they had watched their children leave. They knew it was for their own good, that they had a much greater chance of live in Nation far off, but it hurt them just as much as it hurt the little ones.
Horrified, Scorpius had turned to his father, finally realising what his father's lack of packing had not told him earlier. His father was not joining him.
He remembered shouting and kicking his father as he tried to escape the grip on his hand that was holding him still. He did not want to go, did not want to leave his father and sail away on a vessel filled with people he did not know. His father had shouted at him and he had gone rigid; his father never shouted at him, not even when he was terribly angry with him. He did not remember his father's words, but he did remember him talking about his mother and the war and that he could no longer be with him. Vaguely, he recalled being embraced by strong, warm arms before being sent aboard the ship.
The boat had slowly made its way out of the harbour and out on the open sea, but thanks to the bright moon and the starlit sky he had still been able to see his father on the other side of the water, by that time joined by a dark man and a redheaded woman. Silently, they all had stood with their gazes fastened on what had seemed to be him, but the two adults he did not know had more likely been watching their own children as they slowly left their vision.
As the figures by the shore had grown smaller and smaller more and more of the children had left the reeling, when the last flicker of land had finally disappeared he had been all but alone, the only one left aside from him had been a little boy at his age with a mop of black hair, softly gazing out over the water that swirled wild beneath them.
A quiet sob had broken the silence. Scorpius had glanced over at the boy, but found him nonplussed. It was when the second sob shook his chest that he had realised that they came from him. Soon, he had found that he had tears running down his cheeks, giving him a salty taste in his mouth. For once he had not cared about the tears and had just let them flow as he sank down on the floor. He had not known as to why he was crying, whether it was due to him being ripped away from his father, missing his mother or simply because he was cold and hungry and slightly queasy from the way the waves slammed against the sides of the ship. All he had known was that his chest hurt as if there was a heavy weight on it, making it hard for him to even breathe.
A small whimper from his side had told him that the little boy had given in to the same power he had and started weeping and wailing for those left behind. Scorpius had not offered the boy a word of comfort and he had not received one, but somehow just sitting together and crying had made the pain lessen, not by much, but still. After what must had been a long time, even if it at that time did not feel so, when the bawling had tired them out to the point that only an occasional snivel was heard, someone with soft, gentle hands had lifted him up and carried him inside. Distantly, he had felt the hands slip his sweater over his hands and replace it with a warm shirt of a pleasant material, assumingly a pyjama.
Smooth fingers had run through his locks as he heard distant murmuring. The voice had not been familiar, but it had been nice and it had made him feel safe, which was all he cared for in that moment. He had been placed in a bed and buried himself among the blankets. Eyes he had not noticed closing opened as he recognised the heath beside him as that from another body. Upon the discovery of a now familiar black nest he had decided that it was alright and curled up against the source of warmth, which responded with the same movement. The following day had brought more crying, anger and feelings of abandonment, but for that night he had slept.
Aaand I realise that I have no idea as to when I am supposed to use 'had'. That just sucks.