Chapter Nineteen
...
13th April
The Three Broomsticks
11oo hours
...
It was quite a procession that entered The Three Broomsticks and packed themselves around a large table near to the bar. Wedging themselves into the leather armchairs, and drawing up barstools; a few even perching precariously on the laps of their friends or significant others. Over at the bar Albus was casually flirting with the woman behind the counter, Sylvia, while her curvy aunt, and the proprietor of the pub, Madam Rosmerta watched with the students milling about with hawk eyes.
'We'll have, er- eleven butterbeers please.' Al said with his most charming smile. While she bustled about, collecting bottles, Al yelled over his shoulder. 'Oi! You lot, you'd better cough up some silver for this little lot. I'm not buying the full round!'
It took Albus, Keegan and Rose to carry all the drinks back to the table, and there was some general squabbling over who got the fullest of the tankards, before they all settled into their seats. The topic of the match the previous weekend was raised, and though it had been discussed in great length all week long, a play-by-play recount was once again expounded upon.
'All credit goes to Trevor for his wonderful catch', Lucy said, and Trevor beamed at her.
It was through the noisy bustle of conversation, and the occasional shouted greeting to other friends that entered the pub for a cooling drink out of the bright sunshine, that Albus began to realise the natural separation within their group.
Couples were to be expected, and no-one blamed Lily and Keegan for being deep in conversation with each other, absently sharing a drink. The younger students too, Lucy and her two admirers Tommy and Trevor were sniggering over the antics of the girls in her dormitory while Alex looked on, comfortably silent. Erin and Amélie whispered and giggled, and seemed so wrapped up in each other that no-one could drag their attention away. Albus watched as Erin reached up and smoothed a lock of hair away from Amélie's cheek, a gesture so surprisingly intermit that he felt intrusive and looked away.
Albus himself was sat between Rose and Scorpius, but the position was not a comfortable one for, between sneaking longing looks at each other, they also took every excuse to touch the other, so Al found drinks being passed across him as though he was not there. Still, it was nice not to be crammed into the library, pouring over dusty books as he forced himself to study for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s.
Behind the bar, the cuckoo clock began to chime, the small wooden bird flying once around the clock for every strike of midday. A small fairy, green and glimmering, was sat on the back of the enchanted cuckoo, hitching a ride. Glittering dust fell from every beat of the fairy's wings as they fluttered, keeping the tiny creature upright as it squealed with laughter with every circuit the bird made.
...
12oo hours
The Three Broomsticks
[Lily and Keegan]
...
Over the bar, the cuckoo clock was chiming.
'Do you think that we've gotten over the exciting part of our relationship too early?' Lily asked, idly taking a sip of Keegan's drink.
'What do you mean?'
'Well', she said slowly. 'When we were sneaking around it was exciting and sneaky, and we had to pretend we didn't like each other, so there was added suspense. ' She chewed her lip.
'Do you mind that our relationship isn't exciting?' Keegan asked.
'I don't know. Don't get me wrong', she added hastily, 'I love you and I'm so happy to have you as my boyfriend, but we don't do any of the great romantic gesture stuff anymore. I know a lot of people think it's weird that we're a couple because we always seem to just be hanging out.'
'Actually', Keegan said with the ghost of a wry smile, 'people don't think we're dating because they can't believe someone like you would settle for someone like me.'
'That is not true-' Lily stuttered, but Keegan interrupted her.
'Of course it is. I happen to know for a fact that Robert Davies fancies you, and he's the Ravenclaw quidditch captain.'
'Robert?' Lily was amazed, and slightly disgusted. 'He dated my cousin, that's practically incest!'
Keegan snorted into his butterbeer. 'There's so many of you Weasleys and Potters it's hard not to find someone who's dated a member of your family. But jokes aside, I know what they think. I'm hardly a specimen of great masculine beauty.'
Lily let her eyes trail over her boyfriend. True, he was not traditionally masculine with his narrow hips and lean frame. A few spots of red were dotted across his forehead, and his hair was unkempt, but not in a fashionable way. He might wear glasses, and prefer studying to parties, but Lily had never cared about how he looked.
'You listen to me', she said forcibly, leaning forwards. 'So what? I never cared about looks, and the way you make me feel? Well, I've never felt like this with anyone other than you. You make me feel so happy, right here.' She pressed her fingertip across her chest. 'So who cares what people think. Sure, Davies might think I'm attractive, but I don't think he is. To me, there is no-one more handsome in all the world than you.'
Lily could always tell when he was embarrassed, because he found it hard to meet her eyes. Instead he took her small hand between his two larger ones and pressed his lips to her soft skin. A simple gesture, but it conveyed everything his tangled tongue couldn't.
'And you think we lack romance.' He grinned at her. 'That was probably the most romantic thing you could have said.'
She laughed as well. 'Just ignore me', she said good-humouredly. 'I'm thinking way too much into this.'
'No.' He picked up his tankard and drained the last of the butterbeer in it, then took her hand and stood up. 'You want romance, you sure as hell are going to get romance!'
'How very romantically forceful of you', she teased, also jumping to her feet.
'Come on', he said, and tugged her towards the door of the pub. 'We are going to have the most sickeningly romantic date in the history of Hogsmeade visits! We are going to the most ghastly, revoltingly romantic place in Scotland, and you will be so swept off your feet, that all other dates will fall without compare into the abyss of humdrum, platonic relationships!'
'You sure know how to get a girl going', Lily sniggered, jogging slightly to keep up with his long legs. 'The strategic way in which you are approaching this date make my heart flutter!'
He laughed and broke into a run, diving between students heading the other way who turned to watch them with surprise.
'Where are we going?' Lily spluttered through her giggles.
'You'll see!'
...
'This was your idea of the most sickeningly romantic location possible for a date?'
Lily gazed up at the shop front, shock and horror registering on her face.
'I've heard it's a rite of passage', Keegan admitted. 'But I didn't expect it to be so...'
'Pink?' Lily supplied.
The windows of Madam Puddifoot's tea shop were smeary from condensation, and gave the whole shop an atmosphere of being inside the stomach of a dragon who had just had the misfortune to have eaten seventeen pots of lurid pink paint. It was dark, and the light that did come from the many lamps dotted around was a dull salmon colour due to the many scarves and clothes draped over them.
They were lead to a table by the window that would have looked out onto the main road, had it not been covered with a translucent pink gauzy blind, by a stout woman with rigid curls that did not move as she walked. They ordered two coffees, unsure of what else to do, and sank into seats that squeaked ever so slightly as they sat down.
'This is- um...' Started Lily.
'...very pink?' Keegan answered, staring over at the table next to them where Mack McClaggen and Susanne Walkers were sat, holding hands.
A house elf appeared, carrying a tray high above his head. The two cups were deposited onto the table, and the elf departed with a bow.
'Okay', Lily said, idly fishing some glitter out of her coffee. 'Romance - Go!'
'We're not really wearing the right clothes for a truly romantic date.' Keegan pointed out. 'I've got ketchup down my shirt and you're wearing- actually, what are you wearing?'
'They're dungarees!' Lily defended, wiping a hand over the faded fabric. 'And I'll have you know that they're very comfortable.'
'You look like a builder.'
'Is that a bad thing?'
'Why would it be a bad thing?' He questioned. 'As long as you're comfortable I don't care what you're wearing. In fact-' he leant forward with a wicked grin, 'I prefer you with noth-'
'Romantic and horny are not the same things', Lily said with mock disapproval, whacking him over the knuckles with her cloth napkin. 'Try harder!'
'If poetry be the food of love, play on bagpipes, play on!' Keegan flung his arms wide, and knocked over the sugar dish. The lid came off and rolled across the table and onto the floor where it secreted itself under the radiator.
'I'm not sure that's quite how that goes', Lily snorted, righting the now lidless sugar bowl.
'Oh Lily, Lily - um, what rhymes with Lily?'
'Willy?' She suggested, managing to keep her face impassive. 'Chilli? Silly?'
'Not the most auspiciously romantic words in the English dictionary.' He said, and sniggered.
'Well it's better than your name!' She fired back. 'Keegan, beaten, creep in-'
'Hey!'
'Cretin-'
'In what world', Keegan snickered, 'Does Keegan rhyme with cretin?'
'It wasn't a rhyme, it was an adjective.' She returned, also struggling to control her giggles.
At the table next to them, Mack had moved his chair around the table and was whispering gentle nothings into Susanne's ear.
'How does someone as unpleasant as Mack turn into a romantic god?' Lily queried. They both watched his technique for a moment.
'We need to try harder', Keegan decided. 'No more slacking off for you Miss Potter. We need to work harder at being romantic!'
'How about a romantic gesture?' She suggested as behind them Mack and Susanne began to express their feelings in a highly non-verbal way.
They caught each other's eyes, and had to cover their mouths to stop the sniggers escaping.
'Romantic gestures. I can do romantic gestures.'
'Can you?' She asked, and a snort erupted from behind her hand.
'I can be very romantic when I want to', he said, feigning indignant vexation.
'You bought me a sun hat for my birthday!'
'You wanted a sun hat for your birthday!'
Again they struggled to hold back their laughs.
'We really suck at this, don't we?' She gasped out.
'I'm still trying to come up with a romantic gesture that doesn't involve, money, time or any actual effort.' He returned, taking a sip of his coffee. 'Merlin, that's revolting!'
'How about serenading me?' She suggested, a twinkle in her eye.
'You've obviously never heard me sing. Believe me! If you want to be able to hear my feeble attempts at romance, never let me near anything even remotely musical. The pain is not worth it!'
This time smothering the laughter proved too hard, and their chortles rang through the tea shop.
'Everyone's staring at us!' Lily whispered, then crossed her eyes as Susanne Walkers stared straight at her. Susanne blinked a few times, and hastily looked away.
Once they had both managed to choke back their laughter, Keegan waved his arms in the air. 'Okay, okay! Stop having fun, it's not romantic!'
'Don't look at me! I'm just sat here waiting for your grand gesture.'
Keegan gestured again, and his sleeve narrowly missed carrying away his almost full coffee cup with it.
'Don't move.' He said, and fell to his knees beside her chair.
Whatever he was going to say was lost as the tablecloth, caught beneath his knees, gave an almighty rip, and crockery, coffee cups, napkins and glitter cascaded to the floor. The noise was deafening, and echoed around the quiet tea shop.
The shocked looks on the patrons, and horrified stupor that appeared on their hostess's face was the last straw. Lily and Keegan let out a great roar of laughter, and were promptly chased from the shop by half a dozen angrily twittering house elves.
As they burst into the sunshine, they bumped into a couple heading the other way. They recognised Albus and Celia Raventhorpe who seemed equally shocked to see them running at such velocity from the shop.
Sprinting hand in hand down the street, Lily's beaming smile couldn't leave her face.
'You know', she yelled to him as they tore down the street. 'If being romantic means we can't laugh like that, then I don't want any of it!'
He swept her into his arms, and she accidentally stood on his foot, but it didn't matter. When he kissed her, that was the most romantic gesture of all.
...
12oo hours
The Three Broomsticks
[Amélie and Erin]
...
Over the bar, the cuckoo clock was chiming.
Amélie could still feel the ghost of Erin's fingers brushing her cheek, and felt her ears heat up. Shy as she was, it still seemed terrifying to hang around with the popular Erin's many friends, and so now she sat quietly in the corner. Erin sensed her discomfort, and slipped her hand around Amélie's.
'Did you want to go somewhere else?' She whispered, and Amélie nodded. They collected their cloaks and bags, and Erin made their excuses.
It was nice to be walking in the warm afternoon sunshine. Hogsmeade was always beautiful, no matter the time of year, but in April and May it was usually quiet as many students took advantage of the library to prep for their exams.
It had been Erin who had dragged Amélie from the darkest corners of the library to the village, and though she had argued, she had likewise let herself be overruled easily. She knew that Erin was good for her.
They turned towards the Shrieking Shack and Amélie reached out, taking Erin's hand.
'Do you think we'll end up like our parents?' Erin asked suddenly, voicing the concern that was so often on her mind. She leant against the fence that bordered the Shrieking Shack, unable to look at her girlfriend.
She felt Amélie lean against the fence next to her.
'You know', she said softly. 'If you'd asked me that six months ago, I would have said yes. And to tell the truth, I'm still terrified I'm going to turn out like my parents. But I think we're stronger than they were, and I know you'd never walk out of your child's life like that.'
Erin unexpectedly felt tears prick her eyes, and she blinked them hastily back.
'You mean the whole world to me.' She said gruffly, and Amélie felt a lump rise in her throat.
A twig snapped behind them, and both girls turned around.
The Shrieking Shack was a common destination among the occupance of the school; among the younger years for the fear factor and the chance to show off, and among the older students for more melancholy reasons. Couples were often seen there too, despite the less than propitious setting.
'It's only Al', Erin said, shielding her eyes from the sun.
'Isn't that Amity Chang?' Amélie asked.
'Looks like it', Erin replied. 'What's going on with Al and your sister anyway?'
'I have no idea.' Amélie shrugged. 'Come on, I dare you to touch the walls of the Shrieking Shack!'
'What are we? Twelve?' Erin snorted. 'All right, you're on.'
The house was decrepit in the extreme, with broken, staring windows and crumbling brick work. The walls were surprisingly cool to touch, despite the warm sun.
'This isn't so bad', Amélie said, gazing up at the dilapidated house. 'It's rather picturesque really.'
'Yes, the door hanging off its hinges only adds to the ambiance.' Erin quipped, glancing around uneasily. 'Did you hear that?'
'You're imagining things-' Amélie started to say, but her sentence ended in a shriek as the rusty hinges screamed in protest. The door was forced open and a dark headed boy stumbled out into the sunshine.
'Albus?' Erin gasped.
'Actually', said the boy, straightening his beanie. 'I'm James.'
...
12oo hours
The Three Broomsticks
[James and Lizzie]
...
Over the bar, the cuckoo clock was chiming.
James hadn't noticed his younger siblings over by the bar as he sat in the corner, nursing a pint. But as the clock chimed, her rose to his feet as though an alarm had sounded in his head.
Breaking into Hogwarts by means of the secret passageways probably wasn't the most sensible of decisions he had ever made, especially when he was on a mission to prove himself a grownup, but he couldn't help it. Impulsiveness can be a curse, as well as a boon.
He found Lizzie in her favourite corner of the library, scanning the pages of an ancient textbook with a panicked air of exhaustion. She almost fell off of her chair when she noticed him, then let her head collapse onto her parchment.
'Sit', she said, her voice slightly muffled.
He sat.
To hold a conversation about difficult topics, without anger or tears, is perhaps the final proof that adulthood has been achieved. At least, that is what James thought. To state the issue, without accusing. To dispassionately debate faults and failings, without assigning blame. They talked for at least an hour, the two of them. Talked until James felt he knew Lizzie inside out.
'I quit the bar work', James said finally, reaching out and touching her hand. She did not pull away. 'And I've got a real job. It's only a junior position, and with the ministry no less - I know, I don't think my mother can quite believe it either - but I can support you now. I can be the man you always wanted me to be.'
'Are you happy James?' She asked softly, and he nodded.
'Strangely enough, yes I am. It took your words to realise that I don't need my madcap adventures, I just want you.'
'I want to have a relationship with you', Lizzie said slowly. 'In the future, I mean. Not now, not while I'm still in school. But at some point.'
'You know I'll wait for you.' He said. 'I'll wait until you tell me to give up, and then I'll wait a bit longer.'
The sound of a dropped textbook startled them out of their intense conversation. Alice turned her head to see a large boy coming out of the Herbology section, a stack of books in his arms. Another boy, tall and serious, scooped up the dropped book and they vanished among the towering bookshelves.
'I don't know what the future will hold', she said softly, and he took his cue to leave.
...
12oo hours
The Three Broomsticks
[Tommy and Alex]
...
Over the bar, the cuckoo clock was chiming.
Tommy always felt out of place in these kinds of situations. He was, but for Amélie and Trevor, the only non-Gryffindor, almost the only non-Wotter, and certainly new to this gang of friends entirely. In fact, six months ago, he would have been new to the prospect of having friends at all.
Tommy tried not to think back to six months ago.
In truth, he felt like an entirely new person, and had done since his run in with Rose Weasley all those months ago. It's one thing to feel self-loathing, but quite another to actually act upon that feeling. It taken her biting words to realise that, though he might be dreadfully unhappy, that was not an excuse. He would never have suspected, back then, that he would find himself here, sat with these particular people. But as Alex said, that was always the Wotter's problem; they were far too forgiving. Even Lucy, who was sat two seats down from him, laughing with Trevor, had forgiven him.
Gazing at Lucy's laughing face, he felt a mixture of admiration for her, and self-contempt, coupled with that inevitable surge of affection that always rose when he saw her. He remembered reading somewhere that the love of a good woman can save even the most corrupt of souls, but knew that, to inspire such love, one must be redeemable, and the woman must be truly good. Well, Lucy was one of the best people he had ever met, but he also knew he was not worthy of her.
Alex noticed Tommy's sober expression and leant forwards.
'What's up?'
'Can I have some advice?' Tommy said slowly.
Alex inclined his head, looking at his friend.
'I want to do something nice for Lucy, but I don't know what', he admitted. 'But she's been so incredible, and I want to show her how I- how I feel about her.'
Alex nodded again, and the two fourth years left the bar, heading up towards the castle. On the high street, they brushed past Albus Potter who was stood awkwardly with Amy Perry.
The walk back up to Hogwarts was pleasant in the warmth of the sunshine, and when they reached the library it was filled with the hushed silence of feverish studying. Sliding into a desk near the back of the library, they found themselves surrounded almost exclusively by seventh and fifth years, who spared them an agitated glance, before returning to their studies, noses almost touching their parchment.
Sat side by side, studying quietly, Tommy felt how strange this was. There was no need to speak, for a companionable silence had fallen between the two boys. For the first time in a great many years, Tommy felt a contentment settle into his chest. Self-awareness is a great lesson to learn, and one most-dearly bought. But sat there, with his friend, Tommy realised that, even in the highly likely event of Lucy turning him down, he would not return to his old, bullying ways.
...
12oo hours
The Three Broomsticks
[Lucy and Trevor]
...
Over the bar, the cuckoo clock was chiming.
Trevor and Lucy watched as Tommy and Alex made their excuses and left the pub, before following suit. Once outside, Lucy asked where he wanted to go.
'I need to go to the post office to post a parcel.' He said, and so they set off in that direction.
Lucy had always loved the Post Office, with its rows and rows of owls, from great screech owls with staring amber eyes, to the tiny pigmy owls, no bigger than her hand. The smell was rather overpowering, but not unpleasant for the Post Office was kept much cleaner than the owlery at Hogwarts. The rustling of many wings, the tinkle of the bells of the counters, the general hustle and bustle of the counter staff was comforting, and while Trevor paid for his parcel she wandered about. The most common deliveries, local only, were nearest to the door, but in the far corner were the stoic, howler owls. These owls, Lucy knew, were specially chosen for their stoicism, and deliberately trained not to take fright at sudden explosions.
When Lucy returned to the counters to see how Trevor was getting on, she found him with his two brothers, each also clutching a brown paper parcel. Giles went slightly red at the sight of her, but Digby suffered no such embarrassment and greeted her warmly.
'It's mum's birthday tomorrow', he explained, waving the parcel in the air. 'And I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who forgot about it until last minute.'
'I actually didn't forget', Trevor said mildly, handing the witch behind the counter a handful of silver. 'But someone sent Mercury to India last week and he's not back yet.'
'Mercury's our barn owl', Giles explained as Trevor took his receipt and signed the register. 'But Digby completely forgot we needed him for presents this week and wrote to his girlfriend in Mumbai.'
'Javanti isn't my girlfriend, she's my pen pal.' Digby said good-naturedly, stepping up to the counter to send his own parcel.
Watching the three boys amiable teasing, she got where Trevor got his own easy-going personality from. The three brothers might rag each other, but it wasn't done with malice. They reminded Lucy of her own relationship with her sister, whom she got on with well. She found it difficult to understand the girls in her dormitory and their constant feuds with their own siblings.
'They met when we were on holiday there last year', Trevor whispered. 'He's besotted with her.'
Lucy giggled, which fortunately neither Digby or Giles heard.
'Come on', Trevor said, and took her arm. Waving goodbye to his brothers, they left the Post Office. Once outside, he lead her down the side alley that ran alongside the building and to a quiet patch of sunlight where some previous occupant had left an empty crate. Lucy flopped down onto the box, and Trevor joined her, shading his eyes as he stared up at the sky.
'Lucy', Trevor said presently, continuing to look at the sky. 'Can I try something?'
'Okay.' Lucy said.
The kiss was not the kind of kiss that leads anywhere, nor was it fast or full of passion. It was gentle, in that innocent way of first relationships, and slightly clumsy, and when they pulled back both laughed uproariously at the looks of uncertainty on the others face.
'I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.' Trevor admitted. 'And would it be really weird if we just went back to being friends?'
Lucy laughed with relief. 'Definitely not. I think we're better friends anyway.'
'We could revisit this in a few years time?' He said, eager not to offend her, but she waved his anxieties away.
'Maybe, but not for a while.'
They wandered around Hogsmeade for a little while longer, before retracing their steps and beginning to walk back up to the school. At the entrance of the village they bumped into Albus, and a pretty blond witch whom Lucy thought was probably Martha Bobbins. Not wanting to intrude upon the seventh years, they scurried past.
That night at dinner, Lucy was about to head over to the Ravenclaw table to sit with her sister when she saw her dorm mates, and suddenly felt bad. What with the drama with Tommy, her newly emerging friendship with Trevor, the quidditch team and her family, she knew she had been neglecting her girlfriends.
She expected a snide comment when she slid in beside Letty, but they moved over easily, making room for her, and swept her along with their gossip. Mary and Violet were obviously friends again, and seemed to have forgiven Letty the ignominy of going out with a boy they found attractive. It was unusual, but it seemed that there were no quarrels between the five girls at all, rather like it had been last year before hormones invaded their dormitory.
It was pleasant to sit and chat about things of no consequence at all. Exam talk had been clearly banned, and nothing more strenuous than matching eyeliner and earrings were mentioned. Lucy wondered if she had looked down on her friends for their trivial gossip, and felt bad. But it was hard to sit uncomfortably with Ella, Violet, Bea, Mary and Letty for long, and soon she was filling them all in about everything that had happened with Trevor, suitably impressed gasps and exclamations filling the silence every time she paused for breath.
It was only once the last of pudding had faded from the golden plates, and most of the Great Hall had emptied, that Lucy excused herself from her friends and headed over to the Ravenclaw table to sit with her sister and Ruthie. Much to her surprise, she found Tommy waiting for her, Alex hovering a few feet away.
She stood and stared in shock, as he stumbled through the short speech he had obviously prepared earlier, before flushing the same colour as her hair when he presented her with a bunch of flowers held together with twine.
He does look different, she realised as she tried to come up with an answer that would not hurt his feelings. He's nervous now, but normally there's a smile on his face. I don't think I've ever seen him smile nicely like that before.
'I'm really sorry, Tommy.' She said, and she was too, for she never liked to cause anyone pain, even the former bully. 'But I can't go out with you. I just don't feel that way about you.'
Tommy looked crestfallen, but there was a resignation to his features too, as though he had never expected her to consider saying yes. The exchange hurt both of them , but each handled it with a maturity that surprised the older years who were watching.
'I understand', he said. But when she tried to return the flowers, he waved them away. 'No, I made them for you, so keep them.'
He ambled off and Alex, after shooting her a sympathetic look, followed his friend, leaving Lucy to sink into the seat next to her sister and run the velvety petals between her fingers.
'Have you ever studied floriography?' Ruthie said presently, after Lucy had sat still, without speaking, for almost five whole minutes.
'Florio- what?'
'It's the encrypted communication of secrets through flowers', she replied. 'Shall we see what he said?'
'It never ceases to amaze me', Lucy said, gently touching a blue bell. 'The things you know. Fine, decrypt my flowers.'
Ruthie leant forwards, and Molly did the same.
'Well', Ruthie said. 'Let's begin with the blue bells.'
'Humility', Molly supplied. 'Constancy, gratitude.'
'Bindweed', Ruthie continued, plucking a leaf from the bouquet. 'Uncertainty.'
'Purple hyacinths; forgiveness craved, deep unending sorrow.' Molly said.
'Yellow carnations.' Ruthie added. 'Rejection received, disappointment suffered.'
'And finally', Molly said, passing the odd assortment of flowers back to her sister with a small, sad smile. 'Cyclamen, resignation and a final goodbye.'
'This was never meant to be a love bouquet.' Lucy said, gazing down at the pretty flowers, so oddly combined.
'No. Her sister agreed. 'I think this was his way of telling you that you've changed him for the better. But that your lives have diverged from this point, and this was his farewell. Metaphorically speaking.'
...
12oo hours
The Three Broomsticks
[Rose and Scorpius]
...
Over the bar, the cuckoo clock was chiming.
They existed in a kind of stasis, Rose and Scorpius. Once nothing more than friends, now teetering on the edge of something. But it wasn't quite tangible, and it didn't really make sense, and so they tested the boundaries. A gentle look here, the brushing of fingers there- Nothing concrete, all deniable if they were proved wrong in their suspicions. One answered questioned would have solved all their uncertainties, but a certain degree of bravery is needed to pose such a question, and for two such brave Gryffindors, each proved themselves a coward.
So they sat with Albus between them, while the pub slowly emptied around them. Their friends rose in small groups and left to enjoy the sunshine. Eventually Albus told them to leave as well, perhaps sensing their desire to be alone together. His annoyed sighs followed them as they left the pub, and Rose burst into giggles at her cousin's antics the moment the door swung closed behind them.
'Honeydukes?' Rose suggested, and Scorpius nodded his head.
They strolled along, arm in arm, enjoying the warm of the sun, and Rose turned her face towards the warm rays, bathing her tanned and freckled face with the light.
'Do you think it will be difficult to leave this place?' Scorpius asked presently, casually watching the way the sun lit up Rose's hair.
'Yes... and no.' She said. 'I'm so excited for the rest of my life, I can hardly tell you. I've got all these dreams, and a thousand adventures I want to have. But I will miss the castle, the grounds, the quidditch pitch.' She turned to look at him, and he saw the force behind her words in her expression. The intensity of her words made his mouth dry.
'And if leaving Hogwarts meant leaving you, I don't think I could bear it at all. So I'm lucky that wherever I end up, it will be near you.'
'How sentimental of you', he said, mostly to cover how touched he was by her words. 'But how do you know we won't drift apart. It's a big world out there and you'll be travelling all over, playing international quidditch while I'll be stuck here, working at St Mungo's.'
'I know we won't drift apart for the same reason you know. We need each other far too much for that. We will simply gravitate towards each other for the rest of our lives, and there's no way you can get rid of me that easily!' She added with a laugh.
He snorted too, and he paid for their purchases. They passed Albus and Meredith Trode as they left the sweet shop, and sat down on the bench just outside it.
'Do you remember that time you punched me, way back in second year?' Scorpius sniggered around a mouthful of chocolate frog. He shook that bag at her, but, as always, she refused with a grin.
'To be fair', she defended. 'That was only because you punched Sean.'
'He kissed you and stole your pudding!' Scorpius said. 'I was trying to be a good friend.'
'No', she sniggered. 'You were showing off. And you didn't believe I could have dealt with it.'
'So you punched me to prove that girl's can hit every bit as hard as boys.'
'It worked didn't it?'
'You gave me a black eye!'
'It made you look debonair', she returned, smiling at the memory. 'I remember Celia Raventhorpe telling me that you looked very handsome.'
'Oh yes', Scorpius said with sarcasm. 'A scrawny twelve year old with an unfortunate proclivity for hair gel, with a black eye given to him by his four-foot-nothing friend.'
'It landed you your first kiss, didn't it?'
'And what an unpleasant experience it was.' He shuddered. 'Way too much saliva, and neither of us had any idea what to do.'
'And speaking of Celia - isn't that Al over there with Cecelia?'
Scorpius squinted into the bright sunshine.
'I thought he was with Trode only a few minutes ago?'
Rose scanned the street. 'Look- she's storming off over there. I can see my cousin has used his usual tact and diplomacy.'
'Is that Amity Chang?' Scorpius nodded to where Albus was now stood with Cecelia and a tall girl with dark hair.
'I think so. What on earth is he up to?'
Scorpius finished his chocolate card, and turned over the card. 'Damn, I've got your dad again. Do you want it?'
'I have the debatable pleasure of having the real one at home', Rose answered. 'Bit of a tosser really. Do you want to follow Albus and see what he's up to?'
'We're not playing hitwizards again are we?' Scorpius groaned. 'After that time when I accidentally broke your nose, I thought we'd agreed to stop playing that stupid game.'
'Oh come on grumpy, it'll be fun!'
'Fine.' He groused, but stood up anyway. 'But only because it's you.'
...
12oo hours
The Three Broomsticks
[Albus and Cecelia]
...
Over the bar, the cuckoo clock was chiming.
Albus had finally sent Rose and Scorpius off to do couple stuff when he had watched his cousin pretend to drop her spoon so Scorpius could pick it up, and pass it back to her with a longing look that nobody in the entire pub could have missed. It was terrible. He had always felt like the third wheel over the years all three had been friends. At first it had been due to the all encompassing nature of their friendship, a friendship that needed no-one but each other. And then he had to watch while Scorpius trailed around after his cousin with soppy puppy eyes, which, while hysterical, was also vaguely annoying. Now, well, everyone could see how crazy they were about each other, so it was only a matter of time until his third wheel status was official. With his best friend off dating his little sister, and the whole house still not really talking to Mack, that only left Sean. He was nice, but he was also permanently joined at the hip with Dinah.
Albus wanted a relationship. His infatuation with Lizzie had served to make him seem unattainable to the other girls of Hogwarts, the ones who might have approached him. Now, it was too late.
He glanced over at the bar, and saw Cecelia perched on a barstool, waving her arms about as she spoke to the girl next to her. The girl snorted with laughter, then left the pub, leaving Cecelia alone at the bar. She took a sip of her gillywater, and Albus made up his mind.
Plopping down into the seat next to her, he took in her pretty face, the sardonic twist to her smile, and felt something in the region of his stomach lurch.
'Abandoned too, huh?' She said.
'It is official', he said. 'I am the ultimate third wheel. Or eleventh wheel in this case.'
'Poor baby', she crooned mockingly. 'It must be so difficult for you. Head Boy, perfect family and grades, scores of friends.'
'Mock all you like', he retorted. 'But you're the one sat with me so what does that make you?'
'About to leave?' She gestured towards the door and rose slightly from her seat, but with a laugh he pulled her back.
'No, don't go. At least with you here I can pretend to have some semblance of a romantic life.'
'Ahh', she said. 'This is because you don't have a date. How pathetic.'
'I freely admit that I'm pretty pathetic', he said with a smile.
'Fine.' She said, and jumped to her feet. 'Come on, I'm going to get you a date, even if it's the last thing I do.'
'That sounds vaguely threatening.' He said, and she rapped him of the knuckles.
'Come on.'
It was vaguely humiliating, following Cecelia around Hogsmeade like an obedient dog while she played wingman to the fullest extent. At the Shrieking Shack he found himself exchanging pleasantries with Amity Chang who was sweet, but had very little to say to him that did not revolve around the upcoming N.E.W.T.s. At the entrance to Hogsmeade, they passed Alex and Tommy who had obviously had enough of the village, and by the time he had finished talking to Amy Perry who thoroughly chewed him up for hitting on a girl with a boyfriend, he wished he could leave as well.
At the Post Office he waved to his little cousin Lucy, and debated owl slavery with Martha Bobbins, then made his excuses and fled back to where Cecelia was casually stood on the other side of the street, sniggering at his every attempt to free himself from her overzealous pleas for Wotter backing in her campaign. There was Meredith Trode outside the sweetshop, but as she was with her boyfriend it was a little difficult to ask her out, especially as Rose and Scorpius's less than subtle laughter at his expense made it hard to focus on wooing.
Eventually Cecelia took pity on him and introduced him to her friend Celia Raventhorpe, who happened to be passing. Albus didn't know what passed between them, but Celia through Albus a dazzling smile, and frogmarched him off to Madam Puddifoot's where they found havoc, and the retreating backs of the two perpetrators.
It was stifling inside the tea shop, but Celia seemed at home as she order a coffee with a complicated sounding name, and he played it safe and went for tea.
It might have been awkward, but Celia was a pro at negotiating awkward small talk, and when the subjects of gossip, quidditch and N.E.W.T.s were exhausted, he asked her how she had gotten so good at social niceties.
'A Strict pureblood upbringing', she replied. 'I've been going to formal events since I was five years old. I had to be quiet and sweet, or my nanny locked me in my room.'
'Seriously?'
'A lot of pureblood families are very strict when it comes to that kind of thing', she said, with an air of blasé disinterest. 'Scorpius was pretty lucky, his dad was abused by his grandparents so I don't think they ever punished Scorpius like that.'
'I always forget you knew Scorpius before Hogwarts', Albus said, taking a sip of his tea.
'I know you think us dinosaurs', she laughed. 'But we are an archaic society, and so it seems normal for us. It's just like how, though this is fun, I can't let it go any further.'
'I- What?' Albus stared at her.
'Well I'm engaged.' She said. 'And while I'm allowed flings, I get the feeling you don't want that.'
'Engaged?' He stuttered. 'But you're my age!'
'It was arranged when I was a baby', she admitted. 'And I've never met him. But my parents decided he was a good match, so there we are.'
'Do you know anything about him?' Al asked, trying to mask his own feelings on the matter.
'Only that he is a number of years older than myself, and that he is very, very rich.'
Through the smeary windows, a little of the street beyond was visible. Cecelia was just visible through the glass, sat on a bench with her nose in a book.
'Is there anything I can do to help?' He asked.
'We could elope', she said with a laugh, but he lent forward seriously.
'We could do that.'
She laughed so hard that her coffee cup, fortunately empty, rolled across the table.
'Oh Merlin, you're serious!' Perhaps he saw the glances he was sneaking out of the window, for she become sombre and serious. 'I am resigned to my fate.' She said. 'And this match will save my parents fortunes which are, sadly, on the decline. It's my duty, and one I am willing to perform.'
They pondered such antiquated notions for a while, each with their own thoughts upon the matter.
'You can't save everyone', Celia said, watching Al's honest face. 'But if you're really serious about Cecelia, you're going to have to fight for her. And she's not going to make it easy.'
Albus looked down at the tablecloth, barely registering it.
'How do you know I-'
'Oh', she waved a hand generally. 'It's obvious. You might be here with me, but your eyes are on her. It's gravity, and it pulls you to her.'
He nodded slowly. 'I wish there was something I could do for you though.'
'Let me enjoy my freedom for a little longer.' She said. 'I want nothing more.'
They shook hands outside the tea shop, perhaps the most platonic goodbye that place had ever seen, and Celia began to walk down the main street to catch up with her friends. Albus went to go and sit down beside Cecelia.
'So I've been thinking', he said.
'A dangerous pass time.' She replied, marking her page, and closing her book.
'I know', he laughed. 'But let me finish. I was thinking that you should go out with me.'
'And I think that's a terrible idea.' She said, standing to leave.
He caught her arm, but gently so she could pull away at any moment.
'I'm not going to stop fighting for you.' He said, his features utterly serious. 'No matter what. No matter how scared you are. We're like gravity, and we'll always end up right here, next to each other.'
He turned, and followed Celia's steps back into Hogsmeade, leaving her standing there in the late afternoon sunshine, a small smile on her face. Then she, too, moved to follow him.
A/N.
A bit of a mammoth chapter, and I'm sorry this didn't get updated on Sunday - I've been incredibly busy this week and it wasn't finished in time. I know it's a bit wordy, but I wanted to round up everyone else's stories so I can dedicate the whole of the next chapter to the real reason we are all here: Scorpius and Rose. Hence this is the final hurdle for all their friends and team mates. Never fear though, they will all appear over the last little bit of this story though!
Also, I needed to upload this in a bit of a hurry so I haven't had chance to beta this - I apologise! Shoddy workmanship should never be allowed, but I thought you'd rather have this now, rather than in three weeks time.
The finale left to come, and then a short epilogue, and then we are done. How sad I shall be! And I shall take this opportunity to beg forgiveness, but those chapters won't be up next Sunday, or even maybe the Sunday after as I am out of the country. Many apologies!
Thanks for sticking with this tale for so long - I would never have gotten this far without your encouragement!
A.A.A.