Peaches and Decay
Chaser 2
Chudley Cannons
Round 6, Season 10
Prompts: Chaser 2: Jenny of Oldstones
(object) a cursed piece of jewelry
(weather) rainy
(food) peach
A/N - The inspiration I have taken from my prompt is around the Prince turning his back on his inheritance to be with Jenny. And general themes of forbidden love and unhappy families. In this story, all the Malfoys other than Scorpius are still blood prejudice, Draco has not learnt his lesson.
TW - Attempted murder, hospitals, coma, being disowned.
Rose Weasley was like peaches on a summer's day. Refreshing and moreish. He had never been able to resist having a bite. He thinks he has been a little bit in love with her since he was eleven years old and he had certainly been in love with her since they were both School Prefects together. Which was why it hurt so much that the hand he held in his was cold and still.
They were in the hospital, St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, with Rose laying in the metal framed hospital bed and him on an uncomfortable wooden spindly chair at the side of her. He rested his elbows on the stark white sheets and held one of her hands in his, his other hand stroking the crown of her head. He alternated between staring at her closed eyelids, willing them to open and for him to be lost in her dark chocolate eyes, or staring at heavy rain hammering against the window.
If Rose was peaches on a summer's day then his family was the misery of a grey, rainy storm. His family was the type of rain that soaked you to the bone, leaving you cold and shivering. The type that caused floods in its wake and destruction wherever they went. He had been under no misconception that his love for Rose was something that they disapproved of. Too much history, too much blood spilt, too many differences - too much judgement of one's blood. He had known that they might never accept her fully. She had been aware of it too, ready for the difficulty of creating a life together but wanting to do so all the same. He was prepared for harsh words, silent treatment and perhaps even temporarily, no contact. He had hoped it would not be a permanent chasm, that their love for him would be enough to chip away at old prejudices. Now, he knew that even if they begged and pleaded to be a part of his life, he would never consider them family.
Although he doubted he would ever get an apology from them, considering they had disowned him and vowed he had made a mockery of the Malfoy name. He had bitterly laughed as they had shouted that at him as they were being magically handcuffed by the Aurors. He was ashamed to have the same name as them. Ashamed to be related at all. Ashamed to bare the same striking and characteristic appearance as them.
They had known he was dating Rose Weasley for several years. They had always disapproved and hoped it was teenage rebellion either for him or her, knowing that surely her parents were also disappointed at the match. The Weasleys hadn't understood their daughter's interest in the Malfoy boy, and certainly later not her love, but they had welcomed in Scorpius with perhaps not open arms but at least measured concern and politeness. Years later even Rose's father considered him family, and Ron was the first person he had told that he was planning to ask Rose to marry him.
He had ruminated over telling her dad first. Rose was a very stubborn, independent woman and he knew she would baulk at the thought of him asking her father for permission for her hand in marriage (I'm not an object, Scorpius!). Therefore, he had not asked Ron for permission but had shared with him his plans and his feelings of pride at the thought that Rose would say yes and that they would be a family. This way, Scorpius figured, he was being respectful to both Rose and her father. The two men had toasted with glasses of Firewhiskey, with Ron officially welcoming him into the family.
He felt privileged to be a part of Rose's family. He didn't think he would have the strength to be fully cut off from his own without the acceptance from hers. Or the courage to start his own family without hers guiding them on how to do it, no matter how dysfunctional the multiple Weasleys could seem at times.
His family had been more subdued when he had told them of his plans. His mother's pinched expression, his father's cowardly pained expression, his grandparent's fury. Their faces had not changed as he explained that Rose was who he was building a life with, it wasn't a phase or a fling as they hoped, and how he hoped in time that they would love her as they loved him. He had pointed out how it would make her part of this family and disclosed that her family where aware and given their blessing. The only change in reaction occurred in his grandparents when he showed them the ring that he planned to use to propose to Rose.
It had been a ring that he had found in the Malfoy Manor attic where several valuables and historical pieces not on show were kept. He had thought that this was a way to show respect to his family and to try to involve them, something he thought he had succeeded in when explaining this to them. The ornate ring itself was two thin gold bands woven together to form one, a large diamond nestled in the middle flanked by smaller emeralds on either side. He had thought it was the perfect ring.
The ring wasn't on Rose's finger as it should have been. Her left hand was currently wrapped in bandages, suspended upwards in the air by magic so it wasn't on the bed. He knew underneath the white dressings her ring finger was black, the sight of it spreading through her bloodstream and shadowing the rest of her hand was something he would never forget.
Yesterday it had been sunny. A fresh Spring day with a gentle breeze that had rustled the bottom of her green flowy dress and caused an occasional shiver, but warm enough for a stroll in the park after dinner. He loved to see Rose amongst the flowers, almost as vibrant as her. Surrounded by the dancing wildflowers he had dropped to one knee, deciding there would be no other place as beautiful, and had asked her to marry him. She had laughed joyfully and exclaimed yes and the world was perfect until the ring was slipped on her finger.
Her eyes had widened and her hand had begun to twitch. The blackness spread rapidly from where the metal touched her skin and he rushed to pull it off as she began to scream. She had fallen to the ground, eyes closed, shaking violently. He had disapparated on the spot with her, taking her to the hospital.
It had been a whirlwind since then. Healers, Aurors, Weasleys everywhere. Asking him questions, and telling him things but he struggled to process what had happened. The only time he had left Rose's side was when the Healers kicked him out and he had gone with the Aurors to arrest his family. They had known the ring was cursed with old blood magic. As a Pureblood he had been able to touch it with no harm, but anyone with enough Muggle blood in them would be inflicted by the curse.
The Healers had stopped the curse from spreading and were giving her treatments but they couldn't tell him when she would wake. This magic was old and strong. The ring itself was somewhere being investigated by specialists to create a better cure.
Scorpius sighed and watched a rivulet of water run down the window pane, and then another, and another, and another. The rain was relentless. The rain may be his family but they were on the outside of the glass and they were never coming in again. There would be no leaks, no chance for them to ever affect Rose again. They may be thrashing down in misery now but the Sun would shine again.