Disclaimer: None of the works in this particular compilation are mine. All entries were merely submitted to me and posted in here as part of the contest.

Picture Perfect by verisblack

Prompt: The scent of unrequited love. (Choice 6)

Scene: Quidditch match (Choice 3)

Ship: Draco Malfoy – Hermione Granger

Word count: 674

"Rose! Oi! Rosie! C'mon, this is what I wanted to show you!" Scorpius Malfoy cried, his silvery grey eyes widening in excitement. He leaned over the side of the staircase. "You better pick up the pace, Weasley!"

Rose Weasley scowled, a flight of stairs below her best friend. She shook her curly, red head, and started to run up the stairs. Her black and green robes billowed around her. "What Scorpius? We're missing Albus' and Hugo's match! I really wanted to see them play!"

"Shh! Rosie, just look!" and the blonde haired male pointed to a picture opposite him. The staircases were covered in pictures, all moving, all talking. But this picture was small, and unmoving. It was water-colored, with pretty details here and there in the lighting.

"It's Hogwarts." Scorpius breathed. "It's Hogwarts in our parent's days. Some artist named Dean Thomas painted it."

"So?" Rose asked. "What's the big deal?"

Scorpius laughed sourly. "He painted it wrong, and what was wrong about it, was that he painted it perfectly. See? It's in the library. And they're all studying right? Almost all the books are gone off the shelves, cause there are so many study groups! And they're all mixed. Look! Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Hufflpuff, Slytherin. Then a Slytherin, a Gryffindor, a Hufflepuff, and three Ravenclaws are crammed into that table. Four Hufflepuffs, and two Slytherins. Oh, and that tiny
Gryffindor boy in the back! It's almost- you've taken muggle studies, right? It's almost like a Disney movie."

Rose groaned. "Really Scorpius. Let's just get to the dang match!"

"The only thing stupider than quidditch is muggle chess. No violence whatsoever." Scorpius muttered irritably. "Now listen! Look at the picture! It's amazing! It's exactly how life should be, right? But look at it out of the corner of your eye. You can hardly see it. It's upside down! It's like that one scene in the G rated movie that doesn't fit."

"In the back, there's a teacher scolding a student. A Gryffindor dumping a crying Hufflepuff. Smoke coming out of the loo. And look at all the cobwebs on that back row of books! That's 'cause most of them are older than the teachers. And way, way, WAY in the back is someone you should recognize."

He pointed at the two small figures in the back. They were closing intwined, their lips glued to each other.

Rose's eyes widened. "Is that my MOM?"

Scorpius nodded slowly. "And my dad."

"How-why-My parents love each other very-"

"Rosie, it wasn't always like that. Your parents hated each other. In all of our parent's 5th year, Hermione Weasley was Hermione Granger. And Hermione Granger spent most of her time snogging Draco Malfoy. Dean knew. Dean was probably one of the few who did know. Look at the picture, Rosie. You can almost smell the unrequited love blowing off the picture."

Rose's scowl deepened. "That's NOT my mom."

Scorpius continued as of she hadn't spoken. "They loved each other. They went on dates, they kissed, they snogged...a lot. But they had to keep it a secret, because she was a Gryffindor, and he was a Slytherin. It wasn't allowed.

"The summer before their sixth year, they broke up. My father left her in the rain. Hermione Granger fell in love with Ron Weasley. My father met Astoria. The year was forgotten. Both grown-ups act as if it had never happened."

Scorpius sighed. "This picture. It's like playing "I'm the Walrus" by the Beatles, but playing it backward. Because people like Draco and Hermione, they were the walruses. I don't think Hogwarts liked that very much."

He turned quickly away from the picture, and fled back down the stairs, and Rose followed, a frown on her face.

At the game, Scorpius cheered for his friends, and acted as if the conversation had not happened. Rose sat in silence, staring at the field.

She could taste it. The scent of Draco Malfoy's cleanliness, and the mint smell to him. And her mother, smelling of lilac, freshly mown grass, and new parchment.