Rating warning for brief descriptions of sex
Chapter Seventeen
...
13th February [Albus's Eighteenth Birthday]
The Gryffindor Common Room
23oo hours
...
Hugo enjoyed people watching.
He was, by business and inclination, a loner, though his family didn't allow him to spend too much time by himself. He was an odd assortment, an oxymoron: A Hufflepuff who enjoyed illicit activities; his parent's baby boy, who made more money than his father; a student of average intelligence who could out negotiate and argue even the wiliest of Slytherins; a perpetrator of trouble, yet a loyal friend and brother. That was not to say he could not be delightfully straightforward when he wished, it was simply that he found saying what he meant boring.
It was in this capacity, as onlooker, and also caterer and procurer of illegal drinks, that Hugo walked the perimeter of Albus's eighteenth birthday party, storing away the details in the expanse of his brain for future reference and use. One never knew when leverage might be needed, especially in the Wotter clan.
He passed Lizzie Longbottom, who was deep in conversation with Isabelle Summers, and found Albus. He appeared entirely the worse for Gin Newts and was leaning on Rose who looked non-to-steady either, an empty, slightly smoking shot glass in hand. Hugo paused to listen.
'Is there anything more depressing than being single on Valentine's day?'
'Being alone on New Year's Eve? Being alone at Christmas? Anyway, you've still got about an hour before Valentine's day, so you've got time to find a date.'
'Not quite the commiserating reassurance I was hoping to hear.'
'Since when have I ever told you what you wanted to hear?'
Hugo moved on.
...
Unaware that they were the objects of Hugo's observations, Rose and Albus continued their own morose musings, standing well out of the way of the exuberant dancers who were swaying, grinding and falling over by turn.
'All I'm saying', Al continued, taking another mouthful from his goblet, 'is that it's pathetic that I'm alone on my birthday.'
'You did the right thing with Lizzie', Rose said absently, watching as Scorpius crossed the dance floor, clumsily avoiding Laurie Livington and Karen Sommage in mid grope. She raised her hand, but he didn't appear to see her, instead walking over to Isabelle and Lizzie and joining in with their conversation.
'Doesn't make it hurt any less.' Al grimaced, draining the last of his gin newt.
Isabelle snorted with laughter at something Scorpius said.
'You know', he said, following the direction of her eyes. 'You did the right thing there as well.'
'About what?' She asked, her eyes still fixed on Scorpius.
'Not acting totally jealous about Scorpius and Isabelle being friends.' Albus upended his goblet. 'Empty', he said sadly.
'Mine too', she commiserated. 'And I'm feeling pretty jealous right now.'
'That's because you're drunk.' Al said sagely. 'And only firewhiskey will make that feeling go away.'
'Lead on Macduff', she said, reaching out and grabbing her favourite cousin's hand.
'Who?' Al asked.
...
Albus was not allowed to stand morosely on the edge of the dance floor for long, and soon the birthday boy was dragged into the crowd of dancers by Dinah and Jenny. The drink in his hand was soon gone, and equally quickly he was soon shouting along to New Moon Werewolf with the rest of the dancers.
'Baby, you looked shocked, it's not a good look, I'll teach you things you can't learn in books. I won't be good, I won't be true, but whisper nox and I promise you, this new moon night's for me and you. '
Rose made her way around the edge of the dance floor, avoiding a kissing couple in one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace, and, grabbing a bottle of butterbeer, headed for the high window. Behind the heavy scarlet drapes was a window seat where she could collapse for a few moments and try and organise her muddled thoughts.
'So down your lucky potion, you're dancing in the clouds, promise me this darling, you'll never come back down. I can't promise you tomorrow, but I promise you this, this night could be pure magic with just one kiss.'
She took a swig from her bottle and pulled aside the curtain, ready to collapse onto the comfortable cushions there.
The problem was, there was already someone there.
...
[Ten Minutes Earlier]
...
'I love this song', Lily yelled over the pounding beat as she dragged Keegan through the crowds of people.
'I don't know it', he yelled back, rescuing his glasses from a particularly effervescent dancer.
'It's Ministry of Madness!' She yelled back. 'You know the guy from the Weird Sisters?'
'No', he laughed, 'But then I'm not still listening to music from the nineties!'
She hit him lightly on the chest. 'Idiot! It's his son's band!'
'Do you want to dance?' He yelled back as the beat quickened.
Lily had not lied when she said she loved the song. She could feel the beat echoing up through her shoes, pounding in her chest as her heart sought to match each throbbing reverberation of sound. It made her feet light, her body fluid, her mind loose as she danced. The beat was building and she closed her eyes, screaming along with the words.
'Cast your spell, unadulterated bliss. Burn me down to ashes, steal me with a kiss!'
There was no space between them as they moved together, hands scraping sweat soaked skin, their voices merging together with the revellers.
'I'm a phoenix, I'll rise above all this. Pull me closer to the fire, steal me with a kiss!'
They hardly knew when the words became truth, when the singing became kisses; the beat was echoing up inside them, and months of caution became irrelevant, foolish even. The intoxicating music, the moving bodies, the burning alcohol still stinging their mouths, it all became one heady, exhilarating moment.
'Without you I'm just ashes, lost in the abyss. My heart is yours forever, so steal me with a kiss!'
And the music was fading.
They pulled apart as a slower song melded with the last heavy beat, then replaced it entirely.
'Do you like this song too?' Keegan asked, his breath fast.
'No', Lily gazed at him. 'New Moon Werewolf was always a little depressing for my taste.'
Then:
'I think I'm in love with you, Lily Potter.'
Her eyes widened, her cheeks, flushed from the exertion on the dance floor, became pinker. Her words were so quiet they were lost in the music, but he knew and so did she. So she kissed him again, and lead him to the alcove where the heavy drapes deadened the lilt of New Moon Wolf as he crooned:
'So down your lucky potion, you're dancing in the clouds, promise me this darling, you'll never come back down. I can't promise you tomorrow, but I promise you this, this night could be pure magic with just one kiss.'
...
'Lily?'
Rose blinked, then checked her bottle, wondering if she had accidentally picked up essence of insanity, rather than butterbeer.
'Keegan?'
'There's no need to say it like that', Lily said crossly, folding her arms. 'Keegan's incredible-'
'I'm not disputing that.' She took a gulp from her bottle, suddenly wishing it was something stronger. 'Why didn't you tell me?'
'Why didn't we tell you?' Lily gasped, actually shocked that her cousin, whom she had previously thought quite intelligent, had asked such a foolish question. 'Because you're you! You're Quidditch-Before-Everything Rose, Rule-Number-Three Rose-'
'Actually the no dating rule is number one', Rose murmured.
'My point exactly!' Lily pointed out. 'Rose, I care about quidditch, and Keegan, and I care about you which is why we kept it secret. It would have broken your heart if I'd dropped off the team to be with Keegan and I couldn't do that to you.'
'What happened-' Rose said slowly, 'To family first?'
Lily's face went white. 'You can ask me that?' She cried, 'You honestly care so little about my feelings that you can stand there and ask me to break up with the guy I'm in love with because of some stupid rule-'
'What? No! Of course not Lily. What are you talking about?' Rose wished her brain was working with a little more fluidity. Her muddled cloudy thoughts were making it hard to elucidate. 'I meant, why didn't you simply talk to me about it? That rule was meant to stop people having brief affairs, then falling out with each other. Not stop two people who want to be together from being happy!'
'I thought-' Lily broke off as Keegan took her hand.
'We both thought that, and I'm sorry Rose', he said. 'We misjudged you, but we didn't want to stand between you and your dreams.'
'My dreams have changed a bit this year', Rose admitted, and, almost unconsciously, she glanced over to where Scorpius was stood with Isabelle and Lizzie.
'Look', she said, turning back to Lily and Keegan. 'Be happy, that's all I really want. You once called me a machine, but I'm not, I'm truly not. I just see things a little differently to you, that's all.'
Lily felt something rise in the back of her throat, and choked it back with difficulty. 'I should never have called you that Rose, and I'm so sorry.'
'I'm sorry too, I should never have become a person you didn't feel able to talk to. Family was always meant to come first, and I forgot that for a while.'
Lily wrapped her arms around her cousin, and Rose held her tight for a moment, before releasing her.
'A word of advice, if you're going to tell Al, do it tonight while he's drunk. Then, when he's forgotten it in the morning, I'll tell him he's already done the whole defensive older brother routine. It'll be less painful that way.'
...
Albus took the news that his best friend was dating his little sister reasonably well. Usually he left the vague threats of general violence against his sister's boyfriends to James who was much better at it, and seemed to garner a slightly worrying satisfaction from it. Still, he went through the motions, slightly ruined by the fact that he over balanced at once point and Keegan had to pull his friend back to his feet. Mostly though, he congratulated the couple on finding happiness.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Lizzie rolling her eyes at that.
Still, it was hard to watch them dancing together, not because of their relationship to himself, but because they looked so happy. In fact, wherever he looked he could see couples. For crying out loud, even Mack, Mack!, scourge of the quidditch pitch, most hated boy in Gryffindor currently had his head buried in Susanne Walker's neck. It helped, of course, that Mack was almost seven foot tall and had muscles whereas he was kind of nuggetty in appearance, but still...
He had always disliked the fact that his birthday was the day before Valentine's day; it was the ultimate double punch to the stomach. He was used to being alone on his birthday, that he was resigned to, but then to wake up and be alone again and on the national holiday of love. That was just depressing.
He looked down at his drink, then set it back on the table. The room was hot and sweaty, and he suddenly felt so out of place that he wondered why he was still there. Midnight was a time for couples and kisses, not standing alone at the edge of a party, so he searched for Rose and Scorpius in vane, finding Sean and Dinah swaying on the dance floor near Keegan and Lily, Laurie and Karen in a corner, Jenny with Jacob Stebbins...
The music changed, becoming slower and softer, and he leant against the wall, listening to the words.
'The night's drawing to an end, and what have I got left to hold? I thought this liquid luck would paint my heartstrings gold... But the clock chimes midnight and I'm all alone, oh how the time has flown.'
'Bloody hell', he groaned, 'It's like the universe is conspiring against me.' He reached out and punched the wall, then swore as his knuckles began to throb.
'Al? Are you okay?'
Erin was stood behind him with another girl, whom he didn't recognise, and the mixture of worry and alarm on her face made him laugh.
'I'm not about to turn into a werewolf, so don't worry. I just really hate this song, that's all.'
'But just listen to the chord progression', the unknown girl said, 'Then the underlying beat of the bass guitar which ties everything together. It manages to be fragmented, and yet smooth all at once.'
'I didn't know you were a fan of Flightless Snitch, Amélie', Erin said, and Albus suddenly recognised the girl.
'Hey!' He said. 'Don't you have an older sister in Slytherin?'
'Cecelia? Yes, that's right, she mentioned that you two met before Christmas.'
'Will she be in the Slytherin common room at the moment?' Al asked.
Amélie checked her watch. 'It's quarter to midnight so unlikely. You'd probably find her in Greenhouse Seven at this time of night.'
If Albus had been more sober at this point, he might have questioned the veracity of this statement, but in his less than compos mentis state, it seemed the most logical thing in the world.
'Thanks!' He said, and hurried past them, not seeing their inquisitive glances.
'Well, that was strange.' Amélie said. 'What was that all about?'
'I have no idea.' Erin replied as Albus vanished into his dormitory, only to re-emerge a few moments later wrapped in his heavy cloak, a Gryffindor scarf entwined around his neck.
'If he thinks Cecelia is going to help him get over Lizzie, he's mistaken', Amélie said sadly as Al fell out of the portrait hole. 'She's going to stomp all over his heart in four inch stiletto heels.'
'I don't think he's really looking for anything long term right now', Erin replied, taking Amélie's hand. 'I think he just wants to feel a little less alone.' Then, 'Come and dance.'
...
Hugo watched Erin and Amélie sway together with a small smile on his face. It was hard not to watch, to smile, for there was a look of such contented bliss on their faces, and Hugo wondered what it would be like to feel like that.
Hugo had long ago realised that he didn't feel for the opposite gender what his dorm mates did. When puberty dealt its unpleasant hand, he had watched with some confusion the way his friends went crazy over the girls, how they tried (and failed) to impress them, how they could think of little else.
Hugo was intelligent, and so naturally assumed that his affections lay elsewhere. But again, nothing. And so Hugo came to the conclusion that perhaps love was simply not for him. He didn't particularly mind, the intellectual had always appealed to him more than physical attraction, and he did not think that his dislike for the sexual would stop him forming relationships of the brain in the future. Now he didn't even feel wistful, only a little curious to understand how it worked.
He also knew that his parents would not care. When Scorpius and his dear sister stopped mucking about and finally got together (something for which he was the family bookie), they would fulfil all their mother's dreams of grandchildren. Rose loved children and, though she would hardly admit it, was highly traditional when it came to her dreams of the future. A career, certainly, but then afterwards a family.
That was the thing about the Wotter clan, they were so accepting. When Roxie had come out, with her typical flair for the dramatic, it could not have been less of an issue. Family first was the Wotter rule for a reason. Hugo had read enough about how his family had been treated in the Second Wizarding War to understand how fear of the unknown leads to hate, to violence, to segregation.
Hugo hoped the world would never go back to those times.
...
Greenhouse Seven
00oo hours
...
The greenhouse was a frosted cavern of steamy air; a domed paradise of tropical plants at odds with the heavy snow that encased the iridescent glass, opaline against the myriad brightness of petals and leaves. His breath, floating in front of him on the frozen air just minutes before, condensed to steam in his throat as the heat broke over his skin. Sweat pricked his forehead, and he moved to wipe it away, his winter clothes suddenly heavy and cumbersome.
He found her tending to the knight roses beneath the heavy spotlight that conjured fake moonlight down onto the blue petals.
'Lunam Dilige', she said without looking up, 'from the Nocte Comantem family of roses. They only bloom under the light of the full moon, but here, in a conservation environment, they bloom each night.' She lightly reached out and brushed the pad of a fingertip against the petals.
'I wanted to try cross-pollinating them with Diligit Dies', she continued. 'A day rose from the Die Comantem family. Create a rose that only blossoms when night and day meet.'
'Have you managed?' Albus asked, taking a step forward.
'No', she said, and waved her wand at the spotlight, dimming the artificial moon. The blooms began to close into tight buds, leaves the colour of mercury folding up to shield the velvet petals from view. 'But I shall carry on trying.'
Though silence fell between them, the air was not empty, for the greenhouse whispered and hummed as magic entwined the growing vines. Albus had only been in this greenhouse once before, and had found it a poor excuse compared to its fellows that contained Tentacular, mandrakes, great trees with leaves the colour of Felix Felicis that clambered across the roof panels, filtering the light to colour of liquid luck. By day, Greenhouse Seven was nothing more than a steam filled room filled with immovable plants that seemed lost in their own indifference.
By night, the plants seemed to breathe, to draw in the moonlight, to exhale an indefinable magic. The air was filled with a thousand fluttering insects, pausing to land upon a fragrant bloom, to bow their head to sweet nectar, to rise again only to alight elsewhere. Albus reached out a hand, and a silver dragonfly alighted upon the tips of his fingers. He stood, hypnotised as the tiny gossamer wings fluttered then took flight.
'Argentum Lunea', Cecelia said as the dragonfly landed on the closed bud of the Knight Rose. 'In medieval times wizards used to think the dragonflies drank only the moonlight that collected in the night blossoms, and that if they were to do the same they would stay young forever.'
'Did it work?' Albus asked, transfixed.
'Of course not, it's only nectar. But still, it does have magical properties. There are legends of dragons that live in the highest peaks of the Himalayan Mountains, in a valley called the Rim of Heaven. The legends say that because no creature can survive the altitude, the dragons learnt to drink moonlight to survive, and that this bleached their scales to the translucent colour of moonlight on water until the dragons became more air than flesh and blood.'
'How do you know these things?' Albus whispered to her back, for she still had not turned.
'My father used to tell me stories when I was a child. Amélie too. Once he left, Amélie wanted me to carry on telling them but we were both too big for fairytales by then. Still, I never forgot them. And if I wasn't a cynic then one day I would go to the Himalayas to look for the dragons that drink moonlight. But I am a cynic, and therefore I shan't.'
The finality in her final words broke the spell, and the dragonflies scattered.
'He missed out.' Albus said quietly. 'When he left. He missed out on you.'
'It's nothing, I don't care.' She said with a sanguine certainty that spoke many years accepted rejection. 'Monogamy is a patriarchal plot, an indefinable way to label something that cannot be classified in a feeble attempt to make this terrifying unknown seem fractionally more attainable. All marriage manages to achieve is a greater degree of hurt when it inevitably ends.'
'Is that really how you see relationships and marriage?' Albus asked, reaching out to place a hand n her arm. She shrugged away.
'I was thirteen when my father left. Amélie was too young, but I was older, able to see what she didn't understand. I remember hiding as a child under my father's desk in his study as he kissed his interns, his secretaries. I can still remember the spell of cheap perfume splashed across his desk. And yet my mother didn't care, she was so blinded by these so-called rules, these promises of a happy forever that marriage blinds us with. She loved him so much that she had none left for us. When he walked out, her grief was so great that she forgot about us. There's a reason Amélie and I stay at Hogwarts for Christmas and Easter, year in, year out.'
'Cecelia, I'm sorry- I had no idea-' Albus started, but she abruptly turned around, reaching out to pull his scarf from his throat.
'Don't apologise', she whispered. 'It's your birthday. Let's not talk.'
Her mouth found his; her hands, the buttons of his shirt, the folds of his robes. They sank to the floor, locking together, panting in the steamy air as each sought reassurance in the other's pounding heart and sweat-soaked skin. Albus buried his face in her neck as their bodies writhed, wondering if he was lost in her scent, or whether he was imagining the soft slope of Lizzie's throat, or whether he was thinking of nothing at all.
When they pulled apart there were tears on her cheeks, and she rolled over onto her side, her back a shield between them as she caught her breath. And Albus, still lost in the ecstasy of thinking nothing at all, did not let her go, kissing the tears from her face with a gesture clumsy with uncertainty, before rolling away, knowing she would not permit more.
She made to leave, but he called her, entreated her to stay, to which she responded a firm denial.
'Please', he said, and the uncertainty in his voice made her pause. His hair was tousled, and he had replaced his glasses, but there was an uncertain boyish charm about him sprawled beneath the artificial moonlight. 'It's my birthday', he added.
One night cannot change many years resolution, she decided, and sank back down next to him.
'It doesn't mean anything', she told him, or perhaps herself, and they lay there and watched the dragonflies drink the moonlight from the knight roses.
...
...
The Corridors
[Thirty Minutes Earlier]
Alex noticed Albus slipping out of the Gryffindor common room with relief. Among a small circle of friends, he was entirely at ease, but he found large gatherings such as this difficult to negotiate, not to mention tiring. After murmuring his goodbyes to his assortment of friends, he left the common room and took a deep breath in the quiet air.
It was nice to be invited to such things, and he enjoyed the company of his new found friends on the quidditch team, but the party had been too much; too loud, too fast, too crowded. It was nice to find a silent alcove and take some time to reorder his thoughts.
Once peace was restored he debated heading back to the party, but instead decided upon a walk around the castle. After curfew, he knew, and highly against the rules, but he enjoyed his solitary time.
It was as he was making his way through the castle, taking in all the details of how different the castle was at night when he heard a snuffle, and instinctively made his way towards the source of the noise.
Both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers were accessible from the seventh floor, though opposite ends. Alex had never been inside Ravenclaw Tower, but supposed it was probably rather similar to his own house, though with less incredible views (though that might simply have been house pride).
He rounded a corner and found a stretch of wall, not unlike that on which The Fat Lady hung, and, about midway along, he saw a beautifully wrought bronze eagle's head protruding from the wall, a large ring for knocking between its beak. On the floor beneath this ornamental sight was a boy his own age.
Tommy Tillian looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, and nodded to Alex in a dejected manner.
Alex was in the same year as Tommy and, as such, was familiar with his past behaviour and treatment of others. But he was also the confident of Lucy, and had discussed Tommy's apparent change in great length with her. So, though his inclination might have been to continue on his solitary ramble, he stopped and took a seat on the floor next to him.
'Forgotten the password?' Alex hazarded.
'Password? Oh no, we have to answer a riddle to get into our common room.' Tommy answered. 'But I can't work it out.'
'Well if you can't, there's no chance a Gryffindor like myself can.' Alex said, trying to lighten the tone.
'I wasn't meant to be in Ravenclaw.' Tillian said suddenly. 'The Sorting Hat didn't really know what to do with me, so it let me choose. But I'm not really clever.'
'And I get scared easily.' Alex replied. 'Yet the Hat still placed me in Gryffindor. Maybe you're smarter than you know.'
'What do you get scared of?' Tommy asked incredulously. 'You Gryffindors never are afraid to say what you think, to stand up against.. against people like me. Bullies, I mean.'
'When I was a kid', Alex said slowly, 'I had a speech impediment. I didn't talk until I was seven, and then I had a terrible stammer. It was awful. I was laughed at when I was at primary school, and because I found talking so difficult, I refused to do it. I didn't make friends easily.'
'That must have been hard.' Tommy said slowly.
'It was something I learned to live with.' Alex shrugged. 'But I still find large parties intimidating. I'm very introverted about things, you see. Not a typical brash Gryffindor.'
'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply-'
Alex waved away his words. 'We all are uniquely unhappy in our own way. It's what we choose to do, that is what makes us the people we become.'
'I became a terrible person.' Tommy said miserably, staring at the floor.
'Which you are trying to rectify.' He replied.
'I was just so bitter.' Tommy admitted. 'I was bullied all through primary school because I was fat and shy, and was determined not to be in that position here at Hogwarts. And now I'm trying to turn things around, but it's so hard.'
'Rose told us how hard you're working.' Alex said. 'And I was thinking that I ought to do more for my health. I could work out with you, if you wanted. Bit of company and all that.'
Tommy Tillian was not so lost in his own self-pity that he missed the proffered olive branch, and he gratefully grasped it.
'That would be great, thank you.'
'No worries.' Alex rose to his feet. 'Come on, let's try this riddle.'
Tommy stood as well, and reached out, tapping the eagle head knocker. Immediately the bronze bird sprang to life. A melodious voice rang out.
'I may only be given, never taken or bought. I am the great desire of sinners, but not saints. What am I?'
'Well that's easy', Alex grinned, but before he could elucidate there was the pounding of footsteps and Trevor Warrington sped into view. He noticed them and skidded to a halt, checking over his shoulder.
'You guys better run', he whispered. 'Professor Turpin's headed this way.
'What are you doing up here Trevor?' Alex asked.
'Sneaking up to Gryffindor Tower to meet Lucy at the party.' He replied. 'Are you guys coming?'
Tommy gestured vaguely to his common room, and the eagle knocker that was once more still, but Trevor overrode his words.
'Come to the party with us', he instructed. 'No, come on! There's no time.'
The three boys raced along the corridor as the familiar tap-tap of Turpin's shoes echoed behind them. Alex was gasping the password to the Fat Lady before she could even ask, and she swung forward. The boys clambered through, and she swung closed behind them.
They took a minute to calm their breathing, and Trevor immediately spotted Lucy who began to make her way through the crowds towards them.
Tommy turned to Alex. 'What was the answer to the riddle?'
Alex smiled.
'That was easy. It was forgiveness.'
...
00oo hours [Midnight]
...
'Fancy a dance?'
Rose turned around to see Marco Ives smiling at her with his nice smile and very white teeth.
'Oh, I-'
Rose was not a great fan of dancing. She found the lightness of foot required difficult, and with her height she always felt like an erumpent, shuffling and gallomping alongside the sprites and nixies the other girls resembled. Her build was for endurance, for power, not hopping up and down on the spot and shaking her hips.
'Come on Weasley', Ives' grin widened. 'If my girlfriend can dance with your boyfriend, then why shouldn't we give them a taste of their own medicine?'
'He's not my boyfriend', Rose replied without thinking. Then: 'What? Who?'
Ives gestured with his hand.
Scorpius and Isabelle were dancing together on the edge of the dance floor. Well, Isabelle was dancing. Scorpius was awkwardly shuffling back and forth, obviously too uncomfortable and embarrassed to let go of his inhibitions.
Rose knew perfectly well that Scorpius could waltz with ease, foxtrot with finesse, could even tango, though he would only do that when highly intoxicated. But he disliked dances without set steps because he didn't know what to do. Usually, they sat at the edges of parties and made fun of people, secure in the knowledge that neither would ask the other to endure the humiliation of awkwardly shuffling around the dance floor.
He must really like her if he's prepared to dance with her, Rose thought sadly. She downed the rest of her drink, and dragged Marco onto the floor.
It was not as bad as she had feared, though that was probably due more to the large bottle of firewhiskey she had consumed. Mostly Marco danced, and she focused on staying upright.
'So how's the quidditch training going?' Marco shouted over the music.
She answered with an automatic deflection, and her eyes slid back to Scorpius and Isabelle. There was a polite distance between them, unlike the other couples on the floor, and they seemed more intent on talking than feverishly kissing.
'Rose?'
'What?' She snapped back to Marco who was smirking.
'Why don't we swap partners as it's obvious you don't want to be here with me.'
'I do, it's just I'm really bad at dancing-'
'You're not that bad.'
'I really am.' Rose smiled a bit. 'You're a charmer Ives, but there's no need to lie. I know perfectly well I'm a terrible dancer.'
'You need to loosen up', he said. 'Listen to the beat of the music and just go for it! You're too worried about what people think, about how you look to them. Don't be! I dare you.'
'I feel like I have my own motivational coach.' Rose grumbled, but she did pause to listen to the music. 'Ugh', she said. 'I can't stand Philosopher's Dream, they're so pretentious!'
'Shut up you.' Marco reached out and took her hand. 'Listen to the words and follow me.'
Rose closed her eyes. It was hard to hear the music over the singing of the crowd but Rose was excellent at separating herself from her audience. She let her mind go quiet, and her instincts take over, and the lyrics became discernible.
'-stuck in your corruption, making your assumption, incorrect deductions, Woah-oo! I'm drowning in your lies, the basilisk stare, you hold me petrified, petrified for your lies-'
The music faded, another song, another rhythm taking its place. Rose opened her eyes.
'See?' Ives said, with a hint of smugness in his voice. 'I told you.'
Rose rolled her eyes, but didn't argue the point. 'Fine, you were right. But Philosopher's Dream suck, and I'm definitely right about that!'
Ives shook his head, smiling slightly.
'Do I need to tell you to get over there?'
'No...' Rose's voice betrayed her own uncertainty.
'Should I anyway?' He asked.
'Yes.' She answered.
'Go and dance with Malfoy, so I can have a dance with my girlfriend.' He gave her a gentle shove, and she began to wind her way through the crowds. But on seeing Isabelle sinking into Marco's arms, her courage failed and she changed course.
Scorpius searched the party for Rose, but in vain. The last he'd seen her, she'd been dancing with Ives, her long red curls, loose for once, swaying back and forth as she moved. He finally tracked her down, more by luck than anything, as she emerged from under the drinks table. She picked up another bottle of some ruby red liquid, and disappeared beneath the long white table cloth once more.
He knelt down and lifted the cloth.
'Room for one more?'
'I'll always make room for you', she said, and hiccupped.
He crawled forwards, and let the tablecloth fall once more. The fabric deadened the brightness of the lights, and from this side, the cloth was stained pulsating reds and gold. Yet, it was oddly peaceful there, and both could pretend that they were alone.
'You looked so beautiful when you were dancing.' He said, and immediately wished that he could catch the words in his hands and squash them back into his mouth.
'So did you.' She said, taking another sip from the bottle.
'I looked beautiful?' He joked, but she turned her blue eyes to him, and he felt his mouth go dry.
'You're the most beautiful boy I know.' She said, as though he ought already to know this fact.
They sat for a few minutes, idly passing the bottle back and forth between them. The bottle echoed the colours of the lights beyond their hiding place, illuminating scarlet, green, blue, blurring together. Scorpius felt his head begin to spin, so he focused on the music, trying to steady himself.
'Hey, Rosie', he whispered. 'They're playing your favourite song again.'
'Ministry of Madness?' She whispered back. 'Steal the Phoenix is Lily's favourite song too.'
They sat, listening as the heavy beat began to build, then Rose slid closer to him, letting her head rest against his shoulder.
'- Burn me down to ashes, steal me with a kiss! I'm a phoenix, I'll rise above all this. Pull me closer to the fire, steal me with a kiss!'
'There's something I need to tell you Rose.' Scorpius said suddenly, twisting his neck to look down at her. Her dark red curls were splayed across his chest, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers through the thick waves.
'Too tired', she muttered, and Scorpius saw that her eyes were closed, her dark lashes brushing her cheeks.
'Without you I'm just ashes, lost in the abyss. My heart is yours forever, so steal me with a kiss!'
'No, Rose! I need to tell you this, you need to stay awake!' I need to tell you this before I lose my nerve, he added silently.
He shook her shoulder, but she simply nestled further into his shoulder.
'I know,' she muttered into his chest. 'I love you too.' And so saying, she passed out into his lap.
A.N.
The aforementioned moments! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed reading it - thoughts, emotions, ideas? Let me know!
All the song lyrics are of my own creation, though I've never really tried writing music before. Was it successful? Should I give up the idea of a singer-songwriter career forever?
Review!
Thanks to Gandalf537, Barronis, and the guest reviewer for taking the time to review the last chapter! And a general thanks to everyone who has favourited or followed this story.
Only a few chapters left now, I can't believe this story is almost over. So thank you to my incredible readers who have made this story such a joy to write.
Love and hugs
A.A.A.