2 Fics for 2 Old Challenges
Title: Hearts
Summary: He carried their hearts with him to his grave. / Ron, Hermione, and coping after Harry's death.
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Cho, Ron/Hermione.
Genre: Aaaaaangst.
Beta: N/A.
Rating/Warnings: Rated PG-13. Character!death, implied suicide, angsty!cake. :P For Challenge 151 - survivor.
Medium: Fic.
Word Count: 1650.
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes.
And your heart
Is gonna tear mine away.
-A Wish, Gregory And The Hawk.
Her grip on your hand is getting insufferably tight.
"Hermione!" You jerk your hand away, but she latches on again, her eyes not tearing away from the entrance to the maze. You sigh, before looking in the same direction.
It has been over three hours now, without any sparks or contact from the champions. The crowd is beginning to get restless, as are the judges. The only one who appears to be perfectly calm right now is Dumbledore, who paces as if he is wondering what he should eat for desert.
And then the rain begins to pour.
It comes without warning. A flash of lightning bursts in the sky, and a zap appears in front of them. The flash is momentarily blinding.
The thunder cracks and all you can see is Harry Potter's corpse, bloody and twisted. The Portkey Triwizard Cup rolls away from him and settles in the grass a little away.
The message is clear.
Voldemort has returned.
You can't think anymore. Blood is rushing through your veins, your muscles throbbing. A sweeping, icy sensation passes through you. There's this dull ache in your chest, around your heart. Someone's screaming - maybe it's you - it sounds soft in your ringing ears. Your hand is clenching, another hand around it.
The silence has never been so loud.
It's all in flashes after that. You can't remember it all too well.
Suddenly you're in front, Hermione right next to you. You're fighting with the judges and the professors, shouting and crying because hell, you're his fucking best mates and because Harry fucking promised them he wouldn't go and kill himself-
"You can't do this!" you roar, and Hermione has forgotten all about the rules now as she almost pounces on McGonagall. "Get out of the way!"
The tears are track marks on your skin.
There's a red flash and a thump next to you before everything goes black.
Your eyes flutter open.
You're in a white bed. You can't hear anything. You have no idea where you are, or how much time has passed since-
An image of your best friend's dead body hovers in front of you, and that horrible icy feeling returns to you, in full vigor.
You slip into unconsciousness again.
That icy feeling never really goes away.
Hermione's reading. It's all she can do these days - read, study, read some more, write a stupid essay that no one ever asked her to do, and reread.
She's too quiet these days. You haven't heard her voice since before-
A lump rises in your throat and it suddenly dawns on you that you haven't been talking much either.
You can't really blame her. What's left to say now?
It's raining buckets during the funeral and you can't stop yourself from crying as you watch the jet black coffin slowly lower into the ground.
Harry Potter
The Boy Who Lived
July 31, 1980-June 24, 1984
Nothing more is written on the gravestone. They asked you, of course, if there was any fitting message to write.
There isn't. And you're pretty sure Harry wouldn't want a bloody sob story monologue on his grave.
Hermione is scheduled to say the eulogy at the funeral. You know how hard she's worked on it.
She clears her throat, blinking back tears, and you see how strong she is trying to be. Her eyes rest on her best friend's gravestone before flying to you.
Your heart flies to your throat. This is why you love her.
"Harry Potter," she begins, and there is not a single tremor in her voice. "Harry Potter was The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the youngest Seeker in Hogwart's History, and the one who gave hope to all of the Wizarding world. But, most of all, he was my first friend."
You didn't know that. You had always assumed that she had Muggle friends from before.
"As some of you may not know, I am a Muggle-born. When I was a little girl, there was nothing more that I wanted than for a wizard to come sweep me away into a world of magic. Little did I know that dream would actually come true."
A few, sparing, dry laughs pop up. You almost smile.
"My world consisted of crinkly old paperback books that shined with dust. Looking as I did back then, with big buck teeth and straggly brown hair, reading definitely did not help me find new friends."
"A letter came for me one day," she says. "And I was so excited because Hogwarts could be a new start for me. I can't say I ever saw nearly dying becoming a regular occurrence in my life, but I guess that's what I signed up for when I befriended Harry Potter."
After her eulogy is over, you both leave, her hand softly intertwined with yours as she silently cries into your shoulder on the way home.
In the evening, you both come back to lay some white lilies on his grave.
When you come home for the summer, the Burrow has never been more quiet.
But you and Hermione slowly remember to talk, spending your days out at the pond, where the lilies blow nostalgically.
Fifth year is a joke.
The Slytherins, are loud, boisterous, more than ever. The Defense Against The Dark Arts professor is a hag from the Ministry. All of the students avoid you and Hermione, afraid to say something that will set you off.
Hermione escapes by reading. You escape by spending hours on the Astronomy Tower.
"It's unhealthy to be so close to the edge."
It's a voice you can't recognize. You turn around to see Cho Chang, still as doll-faced as ever.
"It's okay. I won't bother you," she says, coming to stand next to him. "Merlin knows how many times I've been up here. It's a great place to think."
You nod, turning back to the sky, and then back to her. "It's also a great place to scream."
She stares at you, but after a moment, she sadly smiles. "But nobody's there to hear you."
Turning back to the sky, you frown, pondering on the hidden meaning behind that.
You were never the sharpest tool in the shed.
You don't notice, how she keeps leaning over, farther, farther, farther...and then she falls.
You shout, but she only falls gracefully, like an angel poised for the perfect landing.
Her smile is bittersweet.
Then she hits the ground and shatters.
How much baggage can you carry? First your best mate, and now your best mate's crush. Not to mention, you could have stopped it. You could have seen what she was doing, and held her hand and stopped her.
But you didn't.
Ronald Weasley, the boy who was always too late.
You tell yourself to stay away from the tower after that.
That only lasts for an hour; you're back right after the school announcement of her death.
Hermione is sure to follow to make sure you don't pull anything. For once she doesn't have a book with her.
"I miss him," she finally says, her hand finally finding yours. "So much."
"Yeah," you simply answer.
"He was like everyone's hope. Even though You-Know-Who was always getting closer, everyone wasn't too scared, because we had Harry Potter. But now he's gone, and now-" She gulps, choking back tears. "Now people have realized how dangerous the real world and the Dark Arts is. And now they also know they're not safe, because Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, died."
It's the most you've heard from Hermione since the funeral eulogy. You stare at her, completely uncovered and not hiding behind a front anymore, her glassy eyes blinking rapidly, and pull her into a hug.
She screams into your chest and clutches your shirt. You lean down so your tears drop into her hair.
An army can't work without its leader. Harry Potter dies, and everyone else goes down like bowling pins.
It's not the end, but it feels like it. The darkness is closing in on them, and all they can do is hold their hands and cry for their best friend.
He carried their hearts with him to his grave.
"Can you find it?"
"What?" you ask, turning to the brunette girl next to you. Wind ruffles through her hair and the stars illuminate her porcelain face.
"Can you find the strength? The bravery? The courage?" she elaborates. "Can you find yourself?"
"I don't know, Hermione-"
"Ron." She grips your arm and looks up at you with something in her eyes you haven't seen since last June. "I think it's about time that we stop this and move on with our lives. I doubt that Harry would appreciate us abandoning his cause."
You sharply inhale. Harry's name still makes you feel sore all over, reliving the moment of his body dropping at the entrance of the maze.
But she is right.
"Let's continue what we started," you say, and your muscles move into a small smile.
"It's about time," she whispers, and your lips meet softly under the glow of the moon.
Your mouths move to the rhythm of your hearts, and now you feel so alive.
"For Harry," she mouths into your kiss, and you agree.
It's time for an adventure.
Title: Not Your Average Fairy Tale
Summary: This story may not have your average prettypretty princess or your average handsome prince, but it was still a fairy tale, in its own beautifully twisted way, and that's all that matters in the end. / Rose, Scorpius, and the magic of falling in love...not.
Characters/Pairings: Scorrose!
Genre: Romance/Humor.
Beta: N/A.
Rating/Warnings: Rated PG-13. Crack-ish romance, fairy-tale!au. For Challenge 109: Fairy Tales.
Medium: Fic.
Word Count: 2,900.
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes.
"A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous."- Ingrid Bergman.
Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a princess.
Now, this princess wasn't your average princess. She didn't have golden blonde hair or brunette locks; she had ruby red hair, that spun around her and made her look like she was on fire. She didn't have chocolate eyes or jade eyes; she had azure eyes, like the color of the ocean on a summer's day.
She was fiery, fierce, and rebellious; but she was also soft, sweet, and affectionate. And, while she was intelligent, she could be a bit hard-headed at times.
This girl was Princess Rose; perhaps you've heard of her?
Now, a few months before our princess was born, in the neighboring lands, a prince was born.
This prince was also not your average prince. He didn't have raven hair or luscious bangs; he had pale blonde, so pale it was almost white, hair, that was cut short, too short, which made him look more like a military officer than a handsome prince. He didn't have steely silver eyes or sapphire eyes; he had emerald eyes, deep like a forest and very easy to get lost in.
He was sneaky, cunning, and deceptive; but he was also caring, tender, and maybe just a tad bit courageous.
This young man was Prince Scorpius; you must have heard the tale of him and Princess Rose many times before.
Princess Rose was the only and eldest daughter of King Ron and Queen Hermione - they're very famous - so naturally her birth was hugely celebrated.
Queen Hermione invited everyone in the kingdom to see the baby - from merchant to peasant, adult to child, no man was missed at Princess Rose's ceremony.
At the party, the witches and wizards came up to bless the newborn - after all, they were the only ones who had the power to do so.
Every witch blessed her. Rose received good looks, intelligence, kindness, everything - why, she even got some earwax from one witch. (But she was old and quite batty, so the queen let it go.)
But alas, it was all too good to be true. A day as wonderful as that one must have had something go wrong.
One witch was forgotten. And normally, a witch was nice and wouldn't mind too much, but this wasn't a normal witch.
This was the sorceress Bellatrix, who was dark and solemn and dealt in secrets. And she wasn't at all happy with being forgotten.
So Bellatrix stormed into the castle moodily, cutting the line of witches and wizards to reach baby Rose.
"Forgot someone, Queen?" she lazily drawled, except it wasn't lazy as much as it was threatening.
The queen visibly paled; witches were one thing, but sorceresses were another, and there was a reason why Bellatrix was a sorceress and not a witch.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Sorceress Bellatrix, I didn't mean to-"
Bellatrix held up a hand and thunder boomed. "Of all the people you could have dared to miss, it was me!"
The queen shook her head violently. The king interjected, but Bellatrix quickly cut him off.
"I suppose this was done on purpose. You probably thought I wouldn't bless the princess well."
An ugly smirk formed on her face. "Well that's too bad. I have plenty of curses up my sleeve."
In a billow of robes and a flash, Bellatrix was up at the cradle, stroking Rose's cheek. "What a beautiful daughter you have. I feel sorry that she has such horrible parents."
Hermione screamed for her to get away from her daughter. Bellatrix snapped, and the whole room froze.
She leaned down, and whispered to Rose, deadly as a poisonous snake ready for the kill. "At your sixteenth year, at the tenth hour, you shall prick your pretty little finger on a spindle and die."
Satisfied, she stood up and time turned back to normal. The queen rushed over to her baby and began to cry.
Bellatrix pouted. "Oh, you didn't really think I was going to kill her, did you? How awful."
In a burst of white light, she disappeared.
"Don't you dare forget me again. Lesson learnt?"
An elderly witch came up and consoled the queen. "Let me see your daughter."
"Just as I suspected. That hag placed a curse on her," the witch said. She then explained the prophecy; how Rose would kill herself with a spindle.
"Please," the queen begged. "Please stop the curse!"
The witch looked at her pityingly. "That is beyond my control. However..."
"What?" The queen was hysterical now. "Anything, anything!"
"I can modify the curse slightly," she explained. "I can put Rose into a deep slumber, to be awoken by a prince. The only catch is that everyone else will slumber along with her."
The queen thought for a second but nodded; because for all the brains she possessed, her love for her daughter was far greater.
And thus began the legend.
Now, obviously, the queen and king were not idiots. They banned spindles throughout the kingdom, and burned all of them within the fortnight.
Princess Rose grew up in a sheltered environment, learning how to be a proper lady while still being a bit of a handful.
On her sixteenth birthday, she woke up, excited for her sweet sixteen ball in the evening. The rest of the day was spent in preparation - washing her hair, gathering her jewelry, and applying make-up. Lots and lots of make-up.
"Oh, it's wrong, all wrong!" Rose wailed, looking in the mirror with a scowl on her normally pleasant face. "I look like a witch."
Her mother cringed; Rose didn't know about the curse - but then again, she didn't need to, since spindles weren't around anymore, remember? "You look beautiful, honey."
(She was lying straight out of her teeth. She didn't have the heart to tell her daughter that she looked like a ghost with a watermelon for lips and a beehive for hair.)
"Now go, everyone's waiting." She ushered her daughter out the room, but Rose turned back around.
"I'll come in a minute, I just remembered something that will make my outfit perfect," Rose squealed. Her mother tried to stop her, but Rose ran away, stumbling over her billowing skirts.
Rose rolled her eyes, now that her mother was out of sight.
"Did she honestly think I was going to wear this crap?" In two quick strokes, Rose cut her skirt, so now it flared out and exposed one of her legs.
She grinned. "Much better."
(Hey. She was a teenage girl. She wanted to impress some guys. How could you blame her?)
After getting her hair out of it's odd tower formation (The make-up was perfect, in her opinion.) she began to make her way down to the ballroom-
Until she head an odd creaking sound coming out of the room.
Rose was a curious girl, so naturally, hearing a weird sound coming from a room she was positive she had never seen before intrigued her.
Softly, she opened the door. Light spilled into the dark room, illuminating what seemed to be a small storeroom.
In the room, there was an old lady, humming what sounded like a funeral march while spinning a wheel.
Rose had never seen a spindle before in her life; they were banned, remember? So, being the curious girl she was, she obviously wanted to know what it was.
Curiosity killed the cat; too bad that her cat, Wilbur, was out and about in the garden, because maybe then curiosity could have taken the life of him instead of her.
"Excuse me," she asked, slowly approaching the foreign object. "What is that? What are you doing?"
The old lady laughed; but it was in good nature so Rose felt a little more at ease in the eerie room. "It's a spindle, dear. Haven't you seen one?"
Rose shook her head; the lady smiled.
"Come now, I'll show you. You spin the thread around the hook and-"
"Like this?" Rose had always been a bit impulsive, never waiting to listen to what others had to say. Swiftly, she stuck her hand out to touch the wheel, but instead caused the inevitable.
"Ah!" Rose jumped back, blowing on her finger, which was now laced with crimson drops. "I poked my finger."
"Let me see that-" The lady began but it was no use. Rose crumpled to the floor, her head hitting the stone floor with a sickening thud.
Things were quiet around the castle after that.
Now, you might have expected her prince to come for her maybe ten, or a hundred years later - after all, good things only come with time - but their tale wasn't the average tale.
Prince Scorpius was actually not the most patient man. A few years later, at the ripe age of twenty, he ran away from his kingdom, trying to escape the marriage arranged for him.
Funny how he ran from love, only to find it at the end of his journey.
Scorpius only had the innocent intention of laying low and staying single. However, fate had other plans for him.
When he reached the next kingdom, he heard the story of the kingdom over, the one that fell into a deep slumber.
Scorpius wasn't all too impressed - what kind of idiot just falls asleep after poking herself? Didn't she know about the curse?
But, still, he had a good heart, so he felt some kind of odd need to go and rescue the fool of a princess.
So, after a few days on horseback, he reached the kingdom.
Even though it had only been a few years, thick vines and shrubbery were already growing everywhere, blocking the path to the castle.
Scorpius really wanted to give up. This was stupid, and he actually had no reasons. But, the odd pull prevailed and his feet dragged him up into the castle.
It was dead silent. And Scorpius almost thought everyone was dead too - they were motionless, and he couldn't hear them breathing.
Now that he was in the musty castle, the pull became stronger. Suddenly, his feet and hands were moving all on their own, and dragging him up the stairs and around the corners as if they knew where he had to go.
They finally stopped at the door to a small broom closet. He pushed open the door, and a cloud of dust hit him in the face. Coughing, he entered the room.
It was dark, but there seemed to be some sort of spotlight on the girl lying on the floor of the room.
Scorpius laughed. She looked so stupid! She was sprawled all over the floor, as if she was trying to hug it, and her skirt was in tatters-
"Ah!" Scorpius jumped back, For a second he thought she was on fire, but on closer inspection, it was actually just her hair.
On even closer inspection, he noticed her face. She was somewhat pretty, he would admit, but her make-up was atrocious. It was just caked on, like she was some kind of court jester. She must have been blind not to see what a fashion disaster she was.
Scorpius cringed, averting his eyes. She was disgusting. (And stupid.)
But then that odd pull returned, this time tugging him down even closer to her fake face.
Now that he was in close proximity with her mouth, he noticed how full her lips were. Sure, they looked like a watermelon, but they were nice lips, that actually looked quite plump and soft and kissable-
Scorpius shook his head. Bad thoughts. No, he was just here to save the princess, not take advantage of some random girl lying on the floor of a closet.
(But then again, she was dressed quite finely for a normal girl. It must have been for the party; maybe she was a lady-in-waiting.)
But those lips were looking absolutely delicious now, and-
"Oh, what the hell!" In one swift motion, Scorpius placed his lips on hers. He was a young man; you couldn't expect much better of him.
Her lips were cold and hard; it was like kissing a frozen lump. But slowly, they warmed, and suddenly she was hot, too hot for him.
He pulled away, cursing. His lips felt like they were burning.
The girl's eyes fluttered open, looking confusedly around until spotting Scorpius.
"Who the hell are you?" she bluntly asked, rubbing her eyes and sitting up slowly, yawning loudly.
Scorpius cringed; how un-lady-like. "I'm Prince Scorpius, of the Malfoy kingdom. Bow in my presence, peasant."
The girl raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a once-over. He smirked. He must have been very good on her sleepy eyes.
"You? Prince Scorpius?" She scoffed. "You look like my great great aunt Muriel."
Scorpius scowled, flushing red. The nerve of this girl! Why, he ought to-
But her mouth continued speaking stupidly. "And what do you mean, peasant? Do you know who I am?"
"Someone beneath me," he spat out, wondering why he was on the floor talking to this deranged girl when he had way better things he could be doing, like throwing dung-bombs at the Chudley Canons for being such a horrible team-
"Excuse me, but I am Princess Rose, daughter of Queen-"
"What?" he choked, because, her? She was the famed princess of legend, the one that caused the whole kingdom to fall asleep? She was the one he went through all this trouble to save? He was expecting someone far more regal, someone who was actually a princess.
"Wow, thanks," she retorts, and he realized that he actually thought that aloud.
"Well, no matter." He stood up, brushing himself off and making no gesture to help her up whatsoever. The princess got up herself, grumbling. Why did he save her again? "You should thank me, for saving you, even if it was totally not worth it."
Rose huffed, turning away. "As if. You don't even deserve it, you lousy piece of-"
"Wait." She stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean, saving me? What happened?"
He sighed, explaining to her how she had been asleep for the past few years until he found the kindness in his vast heart to help her.
"How did you wake me up?" she asked, curious, and he blushed a rosy pink.
"That is none of your concern."
"Tell me! I have a right to know," she said.
"Ikindofkissedyou," he said in a rapid blur.
"Can you repeat that?"
Scorpius blushed darker, forcing out each word. "I. Kissed. You."
The words took a moment to sink in. Scorpius thought that she really must be an idiot.
Then she exploded.
"What!? You kissed me!? What kind of creep are you, kissing me when I was asleep? I bet you would have raped me too, if I hadn't woken up then-"
She ranted on and on and Scorpius is about to blow a fuse because Merlin, was she annoying, jumping to conclusions. Like he would ever rape her.
But...her lips were quite nice. Like watermelon.
Scorpius shook those thoughts out of his head; he was just going to get out of here and avoid her for the rest of his life.
But...he might have liked kissing her. Just a little bit.
Either way, whether he liked her or not, she was getting on his nerves now, and if she didn't shut the hell up in the next second he would make her.
"Mmf!" Quickly, he cut her off by kissing her again.
Scorpius sighed into the kiss. This was heaven. And the silence - her voice was like an incessant mockingbird. (Surprisingly, a kiss was a good tactic to get a person to shut up. He would definitely keep that piece of knowledge for future reference.)
She pulled away, looking disgusted, but her cheeks betrayed her, tinging red like her hair.
He smirked. Well, if they were on the same page about kissing each other, it wasn't that hard to figure out what to do next.
What else were you supposed to do in a broom closet anyways?
This story has been told many, many times, so many times that over the years it has changed and become a little different after each re-telling. It wouldn't be surprising to find out that the actual story was quite different from what I have recounted.
Either way, Princess Rose and Prince Scorpius eventually married, after five years of on-and-off dating, crying, and making out. They had a daughter, who inherited Rose's red hair and Scorpius's green eyes, and named her Ivy.
To celebrate Ivy's birth, Rose invited all the magical folks of the kingdom to bless her daughter.
Can you guess who she forgot?
Points Earned: 162!
Summary: He carried their hearts with him to his grave. / Ron, Hermione, and coping after Harry's death.
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Cho, Ron/Hermione.
Genre: Aaaaaangst.
Beta: N/A.
Rating/Warnings: Rated PG-13. Character!death, implied suicide, angsty!cake. :P For Challenge 151 - survivor.
Medium: Fic.
Word Count: 1650.
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes.
And your heart
Is gonna tear mine away.
-A Wish, Gregory And The Hawk.
Her grip on your hand is getting insufferably tight.
"Hermione!" You jerk your hand away, but she latches on again, her eyes not tearing away from the entrance to the maze. You sigh, before looking in the same direction.
It has been over three hours now, without any sparks or contact from the champions. The crowd is beginning to get restless, as are the judges. The only one who appears to be perfectly calm right now is Dumbledore, who paces as if he is wondering what he should eat for desert.
And then the rain begins to pour.
It comes without warning. A flash of lightning bursts in the sky, and a zap appears in front of them. The flash is momentarily blinding.
The thunder cracks and all you can see is Harry Potter's corpse, bloody and twisted. The Portkey Triwizard Cup rolls away from him and settles in the grass a little away.
The message is clear.
Voldemort has returned.
You can't think anymore. Blood is rushing through your veins, your muscles throbbing. A sweeping, icy sensation passes through you. There's this dull ache in your chest, around your heart. Someone's screaming - maybe it's you - it sounds soft in your ringing ears. Your hand is clenching, another hand around it.
The silence has never been so loud.
It's all in flashes after that. You can't remember it all too well.
Suddenly you're in front, Hermione right next to you. You're fighting with the judges and the professors, shouting and crying because hell, you're his fucking best mates and because Harry fucking promised them he wouldn't go and kill himself-
"You can't do this!" you roar, and Hermione has forgotten all about the rules now as she almost pounces on McGonagall. "Get out of the way!"
The tears are track marks on your skin.
There's a red flash and a thump next to you before everything goes black.
Your eyes flutter open.
You're in a white bed. You can't hear anything. You have no idea where you are, or how much time has passed since-
An image of your best friend's dead body hovers in front of you, and that horrible icy feeling returns to you, in full vigor.
You slip into unconsciousness again.
That icy feeling never really goes away.
Hermione's reading. It's all she can do these days - read, study, read some more, write a stupid essay that no one ever asked her to do, and reread.
She's too quiet these days. You haven't heard her voice since before-
A lump rises in your throat and it suddenly dawns on you that you haven't been talking much either.
You can't really blame her. What's left to say now?
It's raining buckets during the funeral and you can't stop yourself from crying as you watch the jet black coffin slowly lower into the ground.
Harry Potter
The Boy Who Lived
July 31, 1980-June 24, 1984
Nothing more is written on the gravestone. They asked you, of course, if there was any fitting message to write.
There isn't. And you're pretty sure Harry wouldn't want a bloody sob story monologue on his grave.
Hermione is scheduled to say the eulogy at the funeral. You know how hard she's worked on it.
She clears her throat, blinking back tears, and you see how strong she is trying to be. Her eyes rest on her best friend's gravestone before flying to you.
Your heart flies to your throat. This is why you love her.
"Harry Potter," she begins, and there is not a single tremor in her voice. "Harry Potter was The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the youngest Seeker in Hogwart's History, and the one who gave hope to all of the Wizarding world. But, most of all, he was my first friend."
You didn't know that. You had always assumed that she had Muggle friends from before.
"As some of you may not know, I am a Muggle-born. When I was a little girl, there was nothing more that I wanted than for a wizard to come sweep me away into a world of magic. Little did I know that dream would actually come true."
A few, sparing, dry laughs pop up. You almost smile.
"My world consisted of crinkly old paperback books that shined with dust. Looking as I did back then, with big buck teeth and straggly brown hair, reading definitely did not help me find new friends."
"A letter came for me one day," she says. "And I was so excited because Hogwarts could be a new start for me. I can't say I ever saw nearly dying becoming a regular occurrence in my life, but I guess that's what I signed up for when I befriended Harry Potter."
After her eulogy is over, you both leave, her hand softly intertwined with yours as she silently cries into your shoulder on the way home.
In the evening, you both come back to lay some white lilies on his grave.
When you come home for the summer, the Burrow has never been more quiet.
But you and Hermione slowly remember to talk, spending your days out at the pond, where the lilies blow nostalgically.
Fifth year is a joke.
The Slytherins, are loud, boisterous, more than ever. The Defense Against The Dark Arts professor is a hag from the Ministry. All of the students avoid you and Hermione, afraid to say something that will set you off.
Hermione escapes by reading. You escape by spending hours on the Astronomy Tower.
"It's unhealthy to be so close to the edge."
It's a voice you can't recognize. You turn around to see Cho Chang, still as doll-faced as ever.
"It's okay. I won't bother you," she says, coming to stand next to him. "Merlin knows how many times I've been up here. It's a great place to think."
You nod, turning back to the sky, and then back to her. "It's also a great place to scream."
She stares at you, but after a moment, she sadly smiles. "But nobody's there to hear you."
Turning back to the sky, you frown, pondering on the hidden meaning behind that.
You were never the sharpest tool in the shed.
You don't notice, how she keeps leaning over, farther, farther, farther...and then she falls.
You shout, but she only falls gracefully, like an angel poised for the perfect landing.
Her smile is bittersweet.
Then she hits the ground and shatters.
How much baggage can you carry? First your best mate, and now your best mate's crush. Not to mention, you could have stopped it. You could have seen what she was doing, and held her hand and stopped her.
But you didn't.
Ronald Weasley, the boy who was always too late.
You tell yourself to stay away from the tower after that.
That only lasts for an hour; you're back right after the school announcement of her death.
Hermione is sure to follow to make sure you don't pull anything. For once she doesn't have a book with her.
"I miss him," she finally says, her hand finally finding yours. "So much."
"Yeah," you simply answer.
"He was like everyone's hope. Even though You-Know-Who was always getting closer, everyone wasn't too scared, because we had Harry Potter. But now he's gone, and now-" She gulps, choking back tears. "Now people have realized how dangerous the real world and the Dark Arts is. And now they also know they're not safe, because Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, died."
It's the most you've heard from Hermione since the funeral eulogy. You stare at her, completely uncovered and not hiding behind a front anymore, her glassy eyes blinking rapidly, and pull her into a hug.
She screams into your chest and clutches your shirt. You lean down so your tears drop into her hair.
An army can't work without its leader. Harry Potter dies, and everyone else goes down like bowling pins.
It's not the end, but it feels like it. The darkness is closing in on them, and all they can do is hold their hands and cry for their best friend.
He carried their hearts with him to his grave.
"Can you find it?"
"What?" you ask, turning to the brunette girl next to you. Wind ruffles through her hair and the stars illuminate her porcelain face.
"Can you find the strength? The bravery? The courage?" she elaborates. "Can you find yourself?"
"I don't know, Hermione-"
"Ron." She grips your arm and looks up at you with something in her eyes you haven't seen since last June. "I think it's about time that we stop this and move on with our lives. I doubt that Harry would appreciate us abandoning his cause."
You sharply inhale. Harry's name still makes you feel sore all over, reliving the moment of his body dropping at the entrance of the maze.
But she is right.
"Let's continue what we started," you say, and your muscles move into a small smile.
"It's about time," she whispers, and your lips meet softly under the glow of the moon.
Your mouths move to the rhythm of your hearts, and now you feel so alive.
"For Harry," she mouths into your kiss, and you agree.
It's time for an adventure.
Title: Not Your Average Fairy Tale
Summary: This story may not have your average prettypretty princess or your average handsome prince, but it was still a fairy tale, in its own beautifully twisted way, and that's all that matters in the end. / Rose, Scorpius, and the magic of falling in love...not.
Characters/Pairings: Scorrose!
Genre: Romance/Humor.
Beta: N/A.
Rating/Warnings: Rated PG-13. Crack-ish romance, fairy-tale!au. For Challenge 109: Fairy Tales.
Medium: Fic.
Word Count: 2,900.
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes.
"A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous."- Ingrid Bergman.
Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a princess.
Now, this princess wasn't your average princess. She didn't have golden blonde hair or brunette locks; she had ruby red hair, that spun around her and made her look like she was on fire. She didn't have chocolate eyes or jade eyes; she had azure eyes, like the color of the ocean on a summer's day.
She was fiery, fierce, and rebellious; but she was also soft, sweet, and affectionate. And, while she was intelligent, she could be a bit hard-headed at times.
This girl was Princess Rose; perhaps you've heard of her?
Now, a few months before our princess was born, in the neighboring lands, a prince was born.
This prince was also not your average prince. He didn't have raven hair or luscious bangs; he had pale blonde, so pale it was almost white, hair, that was cut short, too short, which made him look more like a military officer than a handsome prince. He didn't have steely silver eyes or sapphire eyes; he had emerald eyes, deep like a forest and very easy to get lost in.
He was sneaky, cunning, and deceptive; but he was also caring, tender, and maybe just a tad bit courageous.
This young man was Prince Scorpius; you must have heard the tale of him and Princess Rose many times before.
Princess Rose was the only and eldest daughter of King Ron and Queen Hermione - they're very famous - so naturally her birth was hugely celebrated.
Queen Hermione invited everyone in the kingdom to see the baby - from merchant to peasant, adult to child, no man was missed at Princess Rose's ceremony.
At the party, the witches and wizards came up to bless the newborn - after all, they were the only ones who had the power to do so.
Every witch blessed her. Rose received good looks, intelligence, kindness, everything - why, she even got some earwax from one witch. (But she was old and quite batty, so the queen let it go.)
But alas, it was all too good to be true. A day as wonderful as that one must have had something go wrong.
One witch was forgotten. And normally, a witch was nice and wouldn't mind too much, but this wasn't a normal witch.
This was the sorceress Bellatrix, who was dark and solemn and dealt in secrets. And she wasn't at all happy with being forgotten.
So Bellatrix stormed into the castle moodily, cutting the line of witches and wizards to reach baby Rose.
"Forgot someone, Queen?" she lazily drawled, except it wasn't lazy as much as it was threatening.
The queen visibly paled; witches were one thing, but sorceresses were another, and there was a reason why Bellatrix was a sorceress and not a witch.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Sorceress Bellatrix, I didn't mean to-"
Bellatrix held up a hand and thunder boomed. "Of all the people you could have dared to miss, it was me!"
The queen shook her head violently. The king interjected, but Bellatrix quickly cut him off.
"I suppose this was done on purpose. You probably thought I wouldn't bless the princess well."
An ugly smirk formed on her face. "Well that's too bad. I have plenty of curses up my sleeve."
In a billow of robes and a flash, Bellatrix was up at the cradle, stroking Rose's cheek. "What a beautiful daughter you have. I feel sorry that she has such horrible parents."
Hermione screamed for her to get away from her daughter. Bellatrix snapped, and the whole room froze.
She leaned down, and whispered to Rose, deadly as a poisonous snake ready for the kill. "At your sixteenth year, at the tenth hour, you shall prick your pretty little finger on a spindle and die."
Satisfied, she stood up and time turned back to normal. The queen rushed over to her baby and began to cry.
Bellatrix pouted. "Oh, you didn't really think I was going to kill her, did you? How awful."
In a burst of white light, she disappeared.
"Don't you dare forget me again. Lesson learnt?"
An elderly witch came up and consoled the queen. "Let me see your daughter."
"Just as I suspected. That hag placed a curse on her," the witch said. She then explained the prophecy; how Rose would kill herself with a spindle.
"Please," the queen begged. "Please stop the curse!"
The witch looked at her pityingly. "That is beyond my control. However..."
"What?" The queen was hysterical now. "Anything, anything!"
"I can modify the curse slightly," she explained. "I can put Rose into a deep slumber, to be awoken by a prince. The only catch is that everyone else will slumber along with her."
The queen thought for a second but nodded; because for all the brains she possessed, her love for her daughter was far greater.
And thus began the legend.
Now, obviously, the queen and king were not idiots. They banned spindles throughout the kingdom, and burned all of them within the fortnight.
Princess Rose grew up in a sheltered environment, learning how to be a proper lady while still being a bit of a handful.
On her sixteenth birthday, she woke up, excited for her sweet sixteen ball in the evening. The rest of the day was spent in preparation - washing her hair, gathering her jewelry, and applying make-up. Lots and lots of make-up.
"Oh, it's wrong, all wrong!" Rose wailed, looking in the mirror with a scowl on her normally pleasant face. "I look like a witch."
Her mother cringed; Rose didn't know about the curse - but then again, she didn't need to, since spindles weren't around anymore, remember? "You look beautiful, honey."
(She was lying straight out of her teeth. She didn't have the heart to tell her daughter that she looked like a ghost with a watermelon for lips and a beehive for hair.)
"Now go, everyone's waiting." She ushered her daughter out the room, but Rose turned back around.
"I'll come in a minute, I just remembered something that will make my outfit perfect," Rose squealed. Her mother tried to stop her, but Rose ran away, stumbling over her billowing skirts.
Rose rolled her eyes, now that her mother was out of sight.
"Did she honestly think I was going to wear this crap?" In two quick strokes, Rose cut her skirt, so now it flared out and exposed one of her legs.
She grinned. "Much better."
(Hey. She was a teenage girl. She wanted to impress some guys. How could you blame her?)
After getting her hair out of it's odd tower formation (The make-up was perfect, in her opinion.) she began to make her way down to the ballroom-
Until she head an odd creaking sound coming out of the room.
Rose was a curious girl, so naturally, hearing a weird sound coming from a room she was positive she had never seen before intrigued her.
Softly, she opened the door. Light spilled into the dark room, illuminating what seemed to be a small storeroom.
In the room, there was an old lady, humming what sounded like a funeral march while spinning a wheel.
Rose had never seen a spindle before in her life; they were banned, remember? So, being the curious girl she was, she obviously wanted to know what it was.
Curiosity killed the cat; too bad that her cat, Wilbur, was out and about in the garden, because maybe then curiosity could have taken the life of him instead of her.
"Excuse me," she asked, slowly approaching the foreign object. "What is that? What are you doing?"
The old lady laughed; but it was in good nature so Rose felt a little more at ease in the eerie room. "It's a spindle, dear. Haven't you seen one?"
Rose shook her head; the lady smiled.
"Come now, I'll show you. You spin the thread around the hook and-"
"Like this?" Rose had always been a bit impulsive, never waiting to listen to what others had to say. Swiftly, she stuck her hand out to touch the wheel, but instead caused the inevitable.
"Ah!" Rose jumped back, blowing on her finger, which was now laced with crimson drops. "I poked my finger."
"Let me see that-" The lady began but it was no use. Rose crumpled to the floor, her head hitting the stone floor with a sickening thud.
Things were quiet around the castle after that.
Now, you might have expected her prince to come for her maybe ten, or a hundred years later - after all, good things only come with time - but their tale wasn't the average tale.
Prince Scorpius was actually not the most patient man. A few years later, at the ripe age of twenty, he ran away from his kingdom, trying to escape the marriage arranged for him.
Funny how he ran from love, only to find it at the end of his journey.
Scorpius only had the innocent intention of laying low and staying single. However, fate had other plans for him.
When he reached the next kingdom, he heard the story of the kingdom over, the one that fell into a deep slumber.
Scorpius wasn't all too impressed - what kind of idiot just falls asleep after poking herself? Didn't she know about the curse?
But, still, he had a good heart, so he felt some kind of odd need to go and rescue the fool of a princess.
So, after a few days on horseback, he reached the kingdom.
Even though it had only been a few years, thick vines and shrubbery were already growing everywhere, blocking the path to the castle.
Scorpius really wanted to give up. This was stupid, and he actually had no reasons. But, the odd pull prevailed and his feet dragged him up into the castle.
It was dead silent. And Scorpius almost thought everyone was dead too - they were motionless, and he couldn't hear them breathing.
Now that he was in the musty castle, the pull became stronger. Suddenly, his feet and hands were moving all on their own, and dragging him up the stairs and around the corners as if they knew where he had to go.
They finally stopped at the door to a small broom closet. He pushed open the door, and a cloud of dust hit him in the face. Coughing, he entered the room.
It was dark, but there seemed to be some sort of spotlight on the girl lying on the floor of the room.
Scorpius laughed. She looked so stupid! She was sprawled all over the floor, as if she was trying to hug it, and her skirt was in tatters-
"Ah!" Scorpius jumped back, For a second he thought she was on fire, but on closer inspection, it was actually just her hair.
On even closer inspection, he noticed her face. She was somewhat pretty, he would admit, but her make-up was atrocious. It was just caked on, like she was some kind of court jester. She must have been blind not to see what a fashion disaster she was.
Scorpius cringed, averting his eyes. She was disgusting. (And stupid.)
But then that odd pull returned, this time tugging him down even closer to her fake face.
Now that he was in close proximity with her mouth, he noticed how full her lips were. Sure, they looked like a watermelon, but they were nice lips, that actually looked quite plump and soft and kissable-
Scorpius shook his head. Bad thoughts. No, he was just here to save the princess, not take advantage of some random girl lying on the floor of a closet.
(But then again, she was dressed quite finely for a normal girl. It must have been for the party; maybe she was a lady-in-waiting.)
But those lips were looking absolutely delicious now, and-
"Oh, what the hell!" In one swift motion, Scorpius placed his lips on hers. He was a young man; you couldn't expect much better of him.
Her lips were cold and hard; it was like kissing a frozen lump. But slowly, they warmed, and suddenly she was hot, too hot for him.
He pulled away, cursing. His lips felt like they were burning.
The girl's eyes fluttered open, looking confusedly around until spotting Scorpius.
"Who the hell are you?" she bluntly asked, rubbing her eyes and sitting up slowly, yawning loudly.
Scorpius cringed; how un-lady-like. "I'm Prince Scorpius, of the Malfoy kingdom. Bow in my presence, peasant."
The girl raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a once-over. He smirked. He must have been very good on her sleepy eyes.
"You? Prince Scorpius?" She scoffed. "You look like my great great aunt Muriel."
Scorpius scowled, flushing red. The nerve of this girl! Why, he ought to-
But her mouth continued speaking stupidly. "And what do you mean, peasant? Do you know who I am?"
"Someone beneath me," he spat out, wondering why he was on the floor talking to this deranged girl when he had way better things he could be doing, like throwing dung-bombs at the Chudley Canons for being such a horrible team-
"Excuse me, but I am Princess Rose, daughter of Queen-"
"What?" he choked, because, her? She was the famed princess of legend, the one that caused the whole kingdom to fall asleep? She was the one he went through all this trouble to save? He was expecting someone far more regal, someone who was actually a princess.
"Wow, thanks," she retorts, and he realized that he actually thought that aloud.
"Well, no matter." He stood up, brushing himself off and making no gesture to help her up whatsoever. The princess got up herself, grumbling. Why did he save her again? "You should thank me, for saving you, even if it was totally not worth it."
Rose huffed, turning away. "As if. You don't even deserve it, you lousy piece of-"
"Wait." She stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean, saving me? What happened?"
He sighed, explaining to her how she had been asleep for the past few years until he found the kindness in his vast heart to help her.
"How did you wake me up?" she asked, curious, and he blushed a rosy pink.
"That is none of your concern."
"Tell me! I have a right to know," she said.
"Ikindofkissedyou," he said in a rapid blur.
"Can you repeat that?"
Scorpius blushed darker, forcing out each word. "I. Kissed. You."
The words took a moment to sink in. Scorpius thought that she really must be an idiot.
Then she exploded.
"What!? You kissed me!? What kind of creep are you, kissing me when I was asleep? I bet you would have raped me too, if I hadn't woken up then-"
She ranted on and on and Scorpius is about to blow a fuse because Merlin, was she annoying, jumping to conclusions. Like he would ever rape her.
But...her lips were quite nice. Like watermelon.
Scorpius shook those thoughts out of his head; he was just going to get out of here and avoid her for the rest of his life.
But...he might have liked kissing her. Just a little bit.
Either way, whether he liked her or not, she was getting on his nerves now, and if she didn't shut the hell up in the next second he would make her.
"Mmf!" Quickly, he cut her off by kissing her again.
Scorpius sighed into the kiss. This was heaven. And the silence - her voice was like an incessant mockingbird. (Surprisingly, a kiss was a good tactic to get a person to shut up. He would definitely keep that piece of knowledge for future reference.)
She pulled away, looking disgusted, but her cheeks betrayed her, tinging red like her hair.
He smirked. Well, if they were on the same page about kissing each other, it wasn't that hard to figure out what to do next.
What else were you supposed to do in a broom closet anyways?
This story has been told many, many times, so many times that over the years it has changed and become a little different after each re-telling. It wouldn't be surprising to find out that the actual story was quite different from what I have recounted.
Either way, Princess Rose and Prince Scorpius eventually married, after five years of on-and-off dating, crying, and making out. They had a daughter, who inherited Rose's red hair and Scorpius's green eyes, and named her Ivy.
To celebrate Ivy's birth, Rose invited all the magical folks of the kingdom to bless her daughter.
Can you guess who she forgot?
Points Earned: 162!