New Rose/Scorpius story
So I'm finally done polishing my new Rose/Scorpius story. Enough to post it out here anyway. So far I'm ahead by six chapters and have already planned out the ending and the basic overlay. Its called Timeless love (I know its cheesy, but it fits the plot well ). The following is the summary and its not much. I don't believe in putting the entire story on the blurb, just to interest the readers. But the following summary should give you a general idea.
TIMELESS LOVE
Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy are bitter rivals, neither of them wanting to abridge the gap they have placed in between them. But what happens when they have already made the choices that will decide the state of their futures. Will it help them look past their prejudices and learn to see their true selves or will it inadvertently destroy their lives and the lives of those around them.
So what did you think? Too dramatic? Well I couldn't make it any less dramatic since the story takes the same tone. Anyway heres the first chapter. Read and Enjoy:)
Title: Timeless love
Author: potionslover
Rating: PG
Pairings: Rose/Scorpius
CHAPTER ONE
"Rose...Rose!" a shrill voice could be heard yelling, outside the home of the Weasleys.
"You better come down here, this moment, young lady!" shouted a witch, her face crimson and swollen with rage.
"Hermione," called out a tired voice. "There's no point in yelling at her. You'll only make it worse." said a red headed man wearily.
He was seated in an armchair - by the fire place in the kitchen, rubbing his glasses and looking warily at his wife. The woman was standing at the foot of the stairs, her hands on her hips and face distraught. The man smiled warmly upon seeing his wife's posture for it reminded him dearly of another woman, who had to handle not two, but seven children.
"Ron. We can't let her go on like this," she said pleadingly. "We need to be more strict on her. I mean, what was she thinking? Picking up fights with the boys at her school..." she said, collapsing on a chair, in front of her husband.
"Hermione dear. Its not 'boys'. You heard what Hugo said. Most of the time its just one boy. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised that she's hexing Malfoy's son. I don't expect him to be any less of a git, than his father," said Ron roughly.
"Yes. But that doesn't give her an excuse to curse him. She's already faced dozens of detentions. And I always thought Hugo would be the one to give us trouble," she said, laying back.
"Well, you don't exactly have a case here, Hermione. You slapped Malfoy, when you were at school and now your daughter is doing the same," he said teasingly.
If Ron thought this would lighten his wife, he was wrong. Hermione, brought her head back up and looked far from amused.
"She doesn't even listen to me anymore, Ron. We barely get to see her every year and as soon as she gets home, she shuts herself up in her room," she spoke, in a tired voice.
" 'mione. She's 16. Its just the hormones kicking in. She's a teenager and you remember what it was like when you were sixteen right."
"No I don't," snapped Hermione."In case you forgot, I was busy fighting Voldemort."
It had been twenty five years since the final battle and Ron still jerked, when hearing that name, as though speaking it would bring him back from the dead. Hermione, although having noticed this, chose to ignore it without a retort. There were more pressing matters at hand.
Ron got up and went over to his wife's side and kissed her gently on her forehead. He laid his hands on her shoulder and started massaging it, to help her relax. Unfortunately, his work ended up in vain, as Rose chose the exact moment to come downstairs, causing Hermione to stand up instinctively.
Both women stood incorrigibly rooted to their spots, as they set eyes on each other. To anyone looking, Rose and Hermione would have seemed like a younger and older version of the same person. The only thing that set them apart, was the color of their hair. Out of their two children, Rose was the one who inherited the traditional Weasley hair. Ron had to admit that the red head presented quite an intimidating image as she stared back defiantly at her mother.
If Rose matched her mother in her looks, then she matched her Aunt in every aspect of her personality. She had a flair for Quidditch which Ron was sure couldn't have been passed on from Hermione's genes. Add to that, the stubbornness and a taut will and enough temper to hex anyone who annoyed her, and one would get a mini Ginny Weasley. It was no surprise then, that Ginny was her favorite of all of Ron's siblings.
Ron soon sensed the tension in the room and decided he had to do something to defuse it.
"Rosie... How about we have a bowl of ice cream. And later perhaps, we can take a walk through the gardens. Your Mom will be finished with dinner by then." said Ron cheerfully.
"Sure Dad," she said, smiling weakly, not looking at her mother.
"Just a minute," said Hermione, in a barely restrained voice. "I think we need to have a little talk with her, before she runs off and shuts herself in her room, once again." she said, crossing her hands in her arms.
"What is it?" asked Rose, crossing her hands in the exact same manner as her mother and thinking - This is exactly why I shut myself in my room, Mom.
"Would you mind telling me, why you chose to hex Scorpius Malfoy and two of his friends?" asked Hermione, her eyebrows arching up on her forehead.
"Simple. Because they were being gits," she said plainly.
Hermione, who was expecting some form of cover up or excuse from Rose's behalf, was shocked to hear her speak of her actions with such ease. So much so, that she looked at Ron and pointed her hands towards their daughter, as though to mimic 'See what I meant?'
Ron, on the other hand, couldn't suppress a smile and looked at his daughter with pride, thinking 'Thats my girl'. He would have said it out loud too, if it wasn't for the murderous stare he was receiving from his wife, who went on.
"Rose. You don't just hex and jinx people, for being gits. And Neville told me you spent half of your time in detentions," she said, trying to reason with her daughter.
"I'm not the only one who gets detentions. James and Albus gets them too," cried Rose in her defense.
"Thats no excuse for you to keep breaking rules and getting into trouble, along with your cousins. Next year is NEWT year and if you keep this up, you will end up working at your Uncle's joke shop,"
"What's wrong with that? Dad used to work there," said Rose defensively.
"Your Dad worked there to help your Uncle out, not because he didn't have any other options. Now, if I hear another complaint about you, you're going to have to pay for it dearly," said Hermione threateningly.
"Oh yeah? What are you going to do?" asked the bodacious red-head , defiantly.
"Well...I..You'll...Ron, tell her how she'll be punished," said Hermione, directing the question at Ron, completely lost for words.
Ron wasn't expecting Hermione to suddenly throw the ball in his court. Although he struggled around for an answer, he knew as well as Hermione, that there was nothing they could do to punish her, as she spend majority of the year at Hogwarts. And they both loved her too much, to enforce too strict a punishment, while she was at home.
Ron finally gave up and looked back at his wife blankly, who after a while continued.
"No more visits to Hogsmeade," she said at last.
"What?" screamed Rose. "You can't do that!" she wailed, having been hit with a low blow.
"Oh yes we can. You get to go to Hogsmeade with the permission forms, we signed. We can choose to withdraw it any time we want," said Hermione triumphantly.
Rose's eyes turned into slits. She was completely lost for words and felt her hands trembling with fury.
"Why do you have to be so harsh on me all the time!" she cried, her voice quivering..
"Rosie.." her father tried to console her, by reaching out his arm.
"I hate you and I'm getting out of here, when I leave Hogwarts!" she yelled at her mother and ran upstairs, holding back the tears that had circled around her eyes..
"Rosie..Rosie, wait," cried out Ron before turning back to Hermione with an accusatory stare.
"What? I couldn't come up with anything else. Besides, this will put a good scare in her. She needs to concentrate more on her studies, else she'll fail her exams." she finished, looking quite upset, despite having gained the upper hand with her daughter.
"Thats impossible 'mione. She has inherited your brains, after all," he remarked, trying to cheer her up.
Hermione flushed slightly and hit him playfully, on the elbow, before going back to the kitchen, leaving Ron looking at the top of the stairs, hoping his little girl would cheer up soon.
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Hmm, good haul this year, thought Scorpius, as he took a look at the heap of unwrapped presents lying on the floor, by his bed side. Being the only son, he was guaranteed to be spoiled by a hoard of gifts on his birthday. He took the last one, which was from his Grandfather and unwrapped it eagerly. He wasn't disappointed by what was inside, as he took in the sight of an emerald encrusted broach with a magniloquently etched Slytherin serpent. He pinned it to his brand new dress robes, that his father had bought him and admired his reflection in the mirror for a while.
He was nearing seventeen and his growth into manhood was apparent from the briskness of his chiseled face, which matched his father's features, inch for inch. His blond silky hair was dangling smoothly on both sides of his ears. His icy blue eyes, which was one of the few features he had inherited from his mother, struck an appealing feature on an otherwise pallid skin. He was certainly happy with the way he looked, and judging by the dozen girls who swooned at his name, the rest of the school were too.
It was only when his mother's voice sounded in his ears, that he tore himself away from the mirror.
"Scorp..Scorpy..Honey, dinner's ready. We're all waiting for you," he heard his mother calling.
"Be there in a minute, Mom." he shouted back, as he took off the broach and then his dress robes and packed it away safely in his drawer.
Scorpius got back downstairs and noted that his parents were already seated around the table. His father gave him a wink and asked him whether he finished checking all of his presents.
"Yes. Thanks for the new broom, Dad. Its a real beauty," replied Scorpius brightly, as he sat down on the table.
"I want my son to be the best seeker in the whole school. I've been wanting to buy you a new one, ever since watching you play in last year's final. You have talent, theres no doubting that. You're a Malfoy after all and Quidditch is in your blood," stated his father, pompously.
"I just don't want to hear any more excuses of not being able to beat a girl," he finished sounding annoyed, while draining his goblet.
"Don't worry Dad. I'll get the Weasley this time." replied Scorpius in a low voice, looking embarrassed.
"Scorpy, did you like the book Momma gave you?" interrupted Astoria, while slicing her meat.
"Yes Mom. I read a few pages. It was..uhm...quite informative," he replied while looking down at his plate. He wasn't good at lying at people's faces.
Once the three of them finished dinner, Scorpius's Mom left for the kitchen. As soon as his wife was out of earshot, Draco turned to Scorpius and spoke quite sternly-
"You better beat that Weasley this time, Scorpius. I can live with the fact that my son got beaten by a girl. But I cannot bear to see a Malfoy being beaten by a blood traitor, not to mention a Weasley," he said admonishingly.
Scorpius expression changed as quickly as the color of the evening sky outside. It didn't reflect his father's arrogance anymore, but a discernible insecurity, as though he doubted his father's words. Draco, who seemed to have noticed this every time he brought up the subject of blood superiority, felt it was necessary to make a point as usual.
"Look at me, Scorpius. No matter what your mother or any body else says. We are purebloods and this makes us superior in every respect. No matter how highly acclaimed the rest of them are, they will never have the class or panache to be called a proper wizard. So you better not harbor any doubts in your mind and start hanging out with halfbloods and mud..."
"Dad," interrupted Scorpius, unable to hear the use of the filthy word. "Do you really think I'll start hanging out with scums like the Weasleys and the Potters. My sanity hasn't gone down the drains," he replied forcefully, not meeting his father's eyes.
He didn't wait for his father's reaction, but excused himself soon enough on the pretense of trying out his new broom. Within minutes he was outside his Manor and up in the sky, streaking through the air on his Jetrazr. As the ice cold wind washed his face, he thought over what his father had said.
There was a time when he would have walked through the corridors of Hogwarts calling people names, and treating muggle borns and half bloods inferior to him. The truth was that he still did that. Only, he didn't believe in it anymore.
Scorpius had far from removed himself from the antiquated pureblood beliefs of his family. He was sensible enough to know that there wasn't any difference between a muggleborn and himself, and didn't consider them any less worthy of the title 'wizard', no matter what his father said. No, he didn't consider them inferior, but he sure did consider himself superior.
He was, without doubt, extremely proud of his pureblood heritage and he was willing to shove it at any one's face whenever he got the chance to. Why pass on an opportunity to look good, he used to think. He knew he was being a hypocrite. But why throw away the treasure, when they land so willingly into your hands .
He swayed through the grounds which were darkened by the shadows set by their mansion and despite his abnegation, knew that his father was right. It was time he beat the bloody Weasley and paid her back for her insolence. And it wasn't due to her blood status, which his father so vehemently protested against. But because of her pretentious arrogance which Scorpius was going to punish her for, one of these days.
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Dear Lily
She's at it again. Now she's threatened to stop me from going to Hogsmeade. Can you believe that? I've had it with her. I just hope I can graduate soon, so that I can get out of here. Dad is cool about it though. He knows just how much of a git Malfoy is, to understand how difficult it is to restrain myself from hexing him. How does James and Albus get away with all the stuff they do? I'm really looking forward to meeting you guys this weekend. Send my love to James and Al. Could you ask Al, how many days until our owls arrive??
Hugs and kisses
P.S. I'm dreading my O.W.L.s. I know I messed up Arithmancy pretty bad.
Rose read through her letter once to see if she sounded coherent. She had, after all, written it in a fit of rage and frustration. She went to her owl's cage and spoke to her as she fixed the letter onto her.
"Its to Lily as always. I hope you're not tired," she said to Lyla as she took her to the window and flew her out into the evening sky. Once the bird flew away, her thoughts immediately returned to her mother. She was growing sick of her bossiness and couldn't wait till she left Hogwarts. Two more years to go and I can live on my own, she thought gleefully.
The red head looked out into the orange background, dreaming of a life - free from rules and obstructions, as she watched the rays of sunlight tailing her bird into the horizon.
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Scorpius was walking towards a light, a perennial red light, the color reminding him of red roses in the spring. He could smell its fragrance inundating his mind and senses. He kept walking and so did the light, as though the distance between them was preordained and curtailing it was forbidden. But he kept walking without fear, for whoever was in front of him, brought him clarity and peace and a sense of understanding.
The light stopped and so did Scorpius. It was a person. He could tell that. It had arms and shoulders and legs. It might even be a woman, judging by its suave posture. He decided to be brave and took the forbidding step that brought her closer in view.
From a foot afar he saw it. Her hair, brown and rich as melted chocolate. It struck his eyes like a waterfall splashing on the rocks. She was laughing and it was music to his ears. Just as she was about to turn back and reveal a face, Professor Trelawny popped up from nowhere and obstructed his view, causing him to swear and curse at the old woman. Professor Trelawny was wailing and saying something inaudible, but he didn't care. By the time he shoved her away, the girl had gone and he was woken up by his bed side alarm.
Scorpius was left panting in his bed and not even the jug full of water by his bedside could quench his thirst. For the thirst was not for water, but to seek the true identity of the brown-haired girl that had been haunting him regularly for the last one month. Each time she was about to turn back, Trelawny would barge in and distract him. At one point he was so frustrated when the girl disappeared from view, that he tried to hex the old cow.
Scorpius tried every book that he could find on dream interpretation, to figure out the meaning of this recurring dream. Mean while he was getting increasingly obsessed with the brown haired girl and resolved to find her in the real world. He would find himself searching the faces of all those who had brown hair, whenever he was outside with his parents.
He also tried to recall the girls back at school and so far he could only recall two Slytherins and a bunch of girls from the other houses. But he was sure they were not the one he was looking for. He knew that with one look at her face, he would know - as rapidly as one experiences pain when hexed. He just hoped he would meet her soon enough, for he was sure she was the one - the one who would bring him the balance in his conflicted life.
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Hannah Abbot was counting the money in the drawer, when Tom the barman came up to her and said that he was closing for the night and going to bed. Hannah nodded kindly and went into the pub to check whether there was anyone still staying up. As expected, she saw Professor Trelawny surrounded by a slew of empty bottles, drenched in a smell of sherry.
Hannah approached her apprehensively and spoke to her warmly-
"Professor Trelawny, maybe you should stop drinking and go to bed now. Its quite late," she said while removing the empty glass from Trelawny's hands.
Trelawny who was staying at the Leaky Cauldron after having attended her sister's funeral started weeping and replied-
"I can't believe she's gone...My baby sister..." sniffing loudly.
"There, there.." consoled Hannah, feeling sorry for Trelawny. She sat with her for a while, before finally convincing her to stop drinking.
Trelawny, all groggy and unsteady, tried to stand up from her seat. Hannah, mean while, took out her wand and returned the empty bottles back in its place.
"HE REACHES CLOSER..."
Hannah swirled around swiftly, terrified at the harsh voice she just heard. She was even more alarmed to see that the words were spoken by Professor Trelawny, who had fallen back into her chair. Shaking violently and eyes rolling around in their sockets, she looked as though she was having a seizure. Hannah, terrified, began calling her name, and dozing water on her face. But Professor Trewlaney was unaffected by Hannah's attempts to wake her up. Just when Hannah decided to run upstairs and get help, she started speaking again - in the same raspy, hoarse voice as earlier,
"HE REACHES CLOSER TO HIS DESTINY
THE DESTINY WHICH WILL BE IMPEDED BY LOVE
A CHOICE HE MUST MAKE
FOR THE GRISLY LANCELOT TO BE SLAIN
ELSE HIS TERROR WILL CREEP INTO OUR TIME
AND HAPPINESS AND PEACE WILL FADE
BUT THERE IS A PRICE HE MUST PAY,
THE ONE HE CHASES HAS PASSED AWAY
AND HE HAS WITNESSED HER DEATH AMIDST THE FRAY
HE REACHES CLOSER TO HIS DESTINY AT BAY"
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At the exact same moment that Professor Trelawny finished delivering the prophecy, a glowing round globe materialized out of thin air and placed itself automatically on one of the shelves, in the hall of prophecies.
"McCormack," shouted a bespectacled wizard. "Looks like Sybill Trelawny delivered another prophecy," he said as he read the inscription on the globe.
"Accidentally, you mean," said McCormack, an erudite wizard, chuckling. He came up to the shelf with a clipboard in hand, and wrote down the inscription on the globe.
Prophecy number 1285
S.P.T to H.A.L
Scorpius Malfoy and Bernaby Lancelot
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Once Trelawny finished delivering the prophecy, Hannah went to her aid, to make sure she was alright. Trelawny, mean while, seemed to have no recollection of the preceding event, whatsoever. She got back up and quietly went up to her room, sniffing and mumbling about her sister, leaving Hannah looking confused and dumbfounded at what she had just heard.
Did she just make a real prophecy? she wondered. Neville had told her about real prophecies that were stored in the Dept of Mysteries. Hannah, recounted what she heard to her husband when she reached her room and Neville seemed sure, that Sybill Trewlaney had delivered a true prophecy. But the contents of the prophecy baffled them both.
Even though it spoke of an event that was about to happen, the final words were in a past tense, as though some of these events had already taken place. As Neville and Hannah snuggled together in their bed, they had the same thought on their minds as the two wizards at the Dept of Mysteries. How could a prophecy be made of an event which had already happened, since prophecies spoke of events that would come to pass?
Even after her husband had fallen asleep soundly, Hannah kept her eyes open and wondered who the unfortunate pair were. And even though she didn't know who the prophecy referred to, she recalled their fate with pain, as the prophecy clearly stated that the girl was fated to die...
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Comments?
TIMELESS LOVE
Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy are bitter rivals, neither of them wanting to abridge the gap they have placed in between them. But what happens when they have already made the choices that will decide the state of their futures. Will it help them look past their prejudices and learn to see their true selves or will it inadvertently destroy their lives and the lives of those around them.
So what did you think? Too dramatic? Well I couldn't make it any less dramatic since the story takes the same tone. Anyway heres the first chapter. Read and Enjoy:)
Title: Timeless love
Author: potionslover
Rating: PG
Pairings: Rose/Scorpius
CHAPTER ONE
"Rose...Rose!" a shrill voice could be heard yelling, outside the home of the Weasleys.
"You better come down here, this moment, young lady!" shouted a witch, her face crimson and swollen with rage.
"Hermione," called out a tired voice. "There's no point in yelling at her. You'll only make it worse." said a red headed man wearily.
He was seated in an armchair - by the fire place in the kitchen, rubbing his glasses and looking warily at his wife. The woman was standing at the foot of the stairs, her hands on her hips and face distraught. The man smiled warmly upon seeing his wife's posture for it reminded him dearly of another woman, who had to handle not two, but seven children.
"Ron. We can't let her go on like this," she said pleadingly. "We need to be more strict on her. I mean, what was she thinking? Picking up fights with the boys at her school..." she said, collapsing on a chair, in front of her husband.
"Hermione dear. Its not 'boys'. You heard what Hugo said. Most of the time its just one boy. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised that she's hexing Malfoy's son. I don't expect him to be any less of a git, than his father," said Ron roughly.
"Yes. But that doesn't give her an excuse to curse him. She's already faced dozens of detentions. And I always thought Hugo would be the one to give us trouble," she said, laying back.
"Well, you don't exactly have a case here, Hermione. You slapped Malfoy, when you were at school and now your daughter is doing the same," he said teasingly.
If Ron thought this would lighten his wife, he was wrong. Hermione, brought her head back up and looked far from amused.
"She doesn't even listen to me anymore, Ron. We barely get to see her every year and as soon as she gets home, she shuts herself up in her room," she spoke, in a tired voice.
" 'mione. She's 16. Its just the hormones kicking in. She's a teenager and you remember what it was like when you were sixteen right."
"No I don't," snapped Hermione."In case you forgot, I was busy fighting Voldemort."
It had been twenty five years since the final battle and Ron still jerked, when hearing that name, as though speaking it would bring him back from the dead. Hermione, although having noticed this, chose to ignore it without a retort. There were more pressing matters at hand.
Ron got up and went over to his wife's side and kissed her gently on her forehead. He laid his hands on her shoulder and started massaging it, to help her relax. Unfortunately, his work ended up in vain, as Rose chose the exact moment to come downstairs, causing Hermione to stand up instinctively.
Both women stood incorrigibly rooted to their spots, as they set eyes on each other. To anyone looking, Rose and Hermione would have seemed like a younger and older version of the same person. The only thing that set them apart, was the color of their hair. Out of their two children, Rose was the one who inherited the traditional Weasley hair. Ron had to admit that the red head presented quite an intimidating image as she stared back defiantly at her mother.
If Rose matched her mother in her looks, then she matched her Aunt in every aspect of her personality. She had a flair for Quidditch which Ron was sure couldn't have been passed on from Hermione's genes. Add to that, the stubbornness and a taut will and enough temper to hex anyone who annoyed her, and one would get a mini Ginny Weasley. It was no surprise then, that Ginny was her favorite of all of Ron's siblings.
Ron soon sensed the tension in the room and decided he had to do something to defuse it.
"Rosie... How about we have a bowl of ice cream. And later perhaps, we can take a walk through the gardens. Your Mom will be finished with dinner by then." said Ron cheerfully.
"Sure Dad," she said, smiling weakly, not looking at her mother.
"Just a minute," said Hermione, in a barely restrained voice. "I think we need to have a little talk with her, before she runs off and shuts herself in her room, once again." she said, crossing her hands in her arms.
"What is it?" asked Rose, crossing her hands in the exact same manner as her mother and thinking - This is exactly why I shut myself in my room, Mom.
"Would you mind telling me, why you chose to hex Scorpius Malfoy and two of his friends?" asked Hermione, her eyebrows arching up on her forehead.
"Simple. Because they were being gits," she said plainly.
Hermione, who was expecting some form of cover up or excuse from Rose's behalf, was shocked to hear her speak of her actions with such ease. So much so, that she looked at Ron and pointed her hands towards their daughter, as though to mimic 'See what I meant?'
Ron, on the other hand, couldn't suppress a smile and looked at his daughter with pride, thinking 'Thats my girl'. He would have said it out loud too, if it wasn't for the murderous stare he was receiving from his wife, who went on.
"Rose. You don't just hex and jinx people, for being gits. And Neville told me you spent half of your time in detentions," she said, trying to reason with her daughter.
"I'm not the only one who gets detentions. James and Albus gets them too," cried Rose in her defense.
"Thats no excuse for you to keep breaking rules and getting into trouble, along with your cousins. Next year is NEWT year and if you keep this up, you will end up working at your Uncle's joke shop,"
"What's wrong with that? Dad used to work there," said Rose defensively.
"Your Dad worked there to help your Uncle out, not because he didn't have any other options. Now, if I hear another complaint about you, you're going to have to pay for it dearly," said Hermione threateningly.
"Oh yeah? What are you going to do?" asked the bodacious red-head , defiantly.
"Well...I..You'll...Ron, tell her how she'll be punished," said Hermione, directing the question at Ron, completely lost for words.
Ron wasn't expecting Hermione to suddenly throw the ball in his court. Although he struggled around for an answer, he knew as well as Hermione, that there was nothing they could do to punish her, as she spend majority of the year at Hogwarts. And they both loved her too much, to enforce too strict a punishment, while she was at home.
Ron finally gave up and looked back at his wife blankly, who after a while continued.
"No more visits to Hogsmeade," she said at last.
"What?" screamed Rose. "You can't do that!" she wailed, having been hit with a low blow.
"Oh yes we can. You get to go to Hogsmeade with the permission forms, we signed. We can choose to withdraw it any time we want," said Hermione triumphantly.
Rose's eyes turned into slits. She was completely lost for words and felt her hands trembling with fury.
"Why do you have to be so harsh on me all the time!" she cried, her voice quivering..
"Rosie.." her father tried to console her, by reaching out his arm.
"I hate you and I'm getting out of here, when I leave Hogwarts!" she yelled at her mother and ran upstairs, holding back the tears that had circled around her eyes..
"Rosie..Rosie, wait," cried out Ron before turning back to Hermione with an accusatory stare.
"What? I couldn't come up with anything else. Besides, this will put a good scare in her. She needs to concentrate more on her studies, else she'll fail her exams." she finished, looking quite upset, despite having gained the upper hand with her daughter.
"Thats impossible 'mione. She has inherited your brains, after all," he remarked, trying to cheer her up.
Hermione flushed slightly and hit him playfully, on the elbow, before going back to the kitchen, leaving Ron looking at the top of the stairs, hoping his little girl would cheer up soon.
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Hmm, good haul this year, thought Scorpius, as he took a look at the heap of unwrapped presents lying on the floor, by his bed side. Being the only son, he was guaranteed to be spoiled by a hoard of gifts on his birthday. He took the last one, which was from his Grandfather and unwrapped it eagerly. He wasn't disappointed by what was inside, as he took in the sight of an emerald encrusted broach with a magniloquently etched Slytherin serpent. He pinned it to his brand new dress robes, that his father had bought him and admired his reflection in the mirror for a while.
He was nearing seventeen and his growth into manhood was apparent from the briskness of his chiseled face, which matched his father's features, inch for inch. His blond silky hair was dangling smoothly on both sides of his ears. His icy blue eyes, which was one of the few features he had inherited from his mother, struck an appealing feature on an otherwise pallid skin. He was certainly happy with the way he looked, and judging by the dozen girls who swooned at his name, the rest of the school were too.
It was only when his mother's voice sounded in his ears, that he tore himself away from the mirror.
"Scorp..Scorpy..Honey, dinner's ready. We're all waiting for you," he heard his mother calling.
"Be there in a minute, Mom." he shouted back, as he took off the broach and then his dress robes and packed it away safely in his drawer.
Scorpius got back downstairs and noted that his parents were already seated around the table. His father gave him a wink and asked him whether he finished checking all of his presents.
"Yes. Thanks for the new broom, Dad. Its a real beauty," replied Scorpius brightly, as he sat down on the table.
"I want my son to be the best seeker in the whole school. I've been wanting to buy you a new one, ever since watching you play in last year's final. You have talent, theres no doubting that. You're a Malfoy after all and Quidditch is in your blood," stated his father, pompously.
"I just don't want to hear any more excuses of not being able to beat a girl," he finished sounding annoyed, while draining his goblet.
"Don't worry Dad. I'll get the Weasley this time." replied Scorpius in a low voice, looking embarrassed.
"Scorpy, did you like the book Momma gave you?" interrupted Astoria, while slicing her meat.
"Yes Mom. I read a few pages. It was..uhm...quite informative," he replied while looking down at his plate. He wasn't good at lying at people's faces.
Once the three of them finished dinner, Scorpius's Mom left for the kitchen. As soon as his wife was out of earshot, Draco turned to Scorpius and spoke quite sternly-
"You better beat that Weasley this time, Scorpius. I can live with the fact that my son got beaten by a girl. But I cannot bear to see a Malfoy being beaten by a blood traitor, not to mention a Weasley," he said admonishingly.
Scorpius expression changed as quickly as the color of the evening sky outside. It didn't reflect his father's arrogance anymore, but a discernible insecurity, as though he doubted his father's words. Draco, who seemed to have noticed this every time he brought up the subject of blood superiority, felt it was necessary to make a point as usual.
"Look at me, Scorpius. No matter what your mother or any body else says. We are purebloods and this makes us superior in every respect. No matter how highly acclaimed the rest of them are, they will never have the class or panache to be called a proper wizard. So you better not harbor any doubts in your mind and start hanging out with halfbloods and mud..."
"Dad," interrupted Scorpius, unable to hear the use of the filthy word. "Do you really think I'll start hanging out with scums like the Weasleys and the Potters. My sanity hasn't gone down the drains," he replied forcefully, not meeting his father's eyes.
He didn't wait for his father's reaction, but excused himself soon enough on the pretense of trying out his new broom. Within minutes he was outside his Manor and up in the sky, streaking through the air on his Jetrazr. As the ice cold wind washed his face, he thought over what his father had said.
There was a time when he would have walked through the corridors of Hogwarts calling people names, and treating muggle borns and half bloods inferior to him. The truth was that he still did that. Only, he didn't believe in it anymore.
Scorpius had far from removed himself from the antiquated pureblood beliefs of his family. He was sensible enough to know that there wasn't any difference between a muggleborn and himself, and didn't consider them any less worthy of the title 'wizard', no matter what his father said. No, he didn't consider them inferior, but he sure did consider himself superior.
He was, without doubt, extremely proud of his pureblood heritage and he was willing to shove it at any one's face whenever he got the chance to. Why pass on an opportunity to look good, he used to think. He knew he was being a hypocrite. But why throw away the treasure, when they land so willingly into your hands .
He swayed through the grounds which were darkened by the shadows set by their mansion and despite his abnegation, knew that his father was right. It was time he beat the bloody Weasley and paid her back for her insolence. And it wasn't due to her blood status, which his father so vehemently protested against. But because of her pretentious arrogance which Scorpius was going to punish her for, one of these days.
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Dear Lily
She's at it again. Now she's threatened to stop me from going to Hogsmeade. Can you believe that? I've had it with her. I just hope I can graduate soon, so that I can get out of here. Dad is cool about it though. He knows just how much of a git Malfoy is, to understand how difficult it is to restrain myself from hexing him. How does James and Albus get away with all the stuff they do? I'm really looking forward to meeting you guys this weekend. Send my love to James and Al. Could you ask Al, how many days until our owls arrive??
Hugs and kisses
P.S. I'm dreading my O.W.L.s. I know I messed up Arithmancy pretty bad.
Rose read through her letter once to see if she sounded coherent. She had, after all, written it in a fit of rage and frustration. She went to her owl's cage and spoke to her as she fixed the letter onto her.
"Its to Lily as always. I hope you're not tired," she said to Lyla as she took her to the window and flew her out into the evening sky. Once the bird flew away, her thoughts immediately returned to her mother. She was growing sick of her bossiness and couldn't wait till she left Hogwarts. Two more years to go and I can live on my own, she thought gleefully.
The red head looked out into the orange background, dreaming of a life - free from rules and obstructions, as she watched the rays of sunlight tailing her bird into the horizon.
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Scorpius was walking towards a light, a perennial red light, the color reminding him of red roses in the spring. He could smell its fragrance inundating his mind and senses. He kept walking and so did the light, as though the distance between them was preordained and curtailing it was forbidden. But he kept walking without fear, for whoever was in front of him, brought him clarity and peace and a sense of understanding.
The light stopped and so did Scorpius. It was a person. He could tell that. It had arms and shoulders and legs. It might even be a woman, judging by its suave posture. He decided to be brave and took the forbidding step that brought her closer in view.
From a foot afar he saw it. Her hair, brown and rich as melted chocolate. It struck his eyes like a waterfall splashing on the rocks. She was laughing and it was music to his ears. Just as she was about to turn back and reveal a face, Professor Trelawny popped up from nowhere and obstructed his view, causing him to swear and curse at the old woman. Professor Trelawny was wailing and saying something inaudible, but he didn't care. By the time he shoved her away, the girl had gone and he was woken up by his bed side alarm.
Scorpius was left panting in his bed and not even the jug full of water by his bedside could quench his thirst. For the thirst was not for water, but to seek the true identity of the brown-haired girl that had been haunting him regularly for the last one month. Each time she was about to turn back, Trelawny would barge in and distract him. At one point he was so frustrated when the girl disappeared from view, that he tried to hex the old cow.
Scorpius tried every book that he could find on dream interpretation, to figure out the meaning of this recurring dream. Mean while he was getting increasingly obsessed with the brown haired girl and resolved to find her in the real world. He would find himself searching the faces of all those who had brown hair, whenever he was outside with his parents.
He also tried to recall the girls back at school and so far he could only recall two Slytherins and a bunch of girls from the other houses. But he was sure they were not the one he was looking for. He knew that with one look at her face, he would know - as rapidly as one experiences pain when hexed. He just hoped he would meet her soon enough, for he was sure she was the one - the one who would bring him the balance in his conflicted life.
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Hannah Abbot was counting the money in the drawer, when Tom the barman came up to her and said that he was closing for the night and going to bed. Hannah nodded kindly and went into the pub to check whether there was anyone still staying up. As expected, she saw Professor Trelawny surrounded by a slew of empty bottles, drenched in a smell of sherry.
Hannah approached her apprehensively and spoke to her warmly-
"Professor Trelawny, maybe you should stop drinking and go to bed now. Its quite late," she said while removing the empty glass from Trelawny's hands.
Trelawny who was staying at the Leaky Cauldron after having attended her sister's funeral started weeping and replied-
"I can't believe she's gone...My baby sister..." sniffing loudly.
"There, there.." consoled Hannah, feeling sorry for Trelawny. She sat with her for a while, before finally convincing her to stop drinking.
Trelawny, all groggy and unsteady, tried to stand up from her seat. Hannah, mean while, took out her wand and returned the empty bottles back in its place.
"HE REACHES CLOSER..."
Hannah swirled around swiftly, terrified at the harsh voice she just heard. She was even more alarmed to see that the words were spoken by Professor Trelawny, who had fallen back into her chair. Shaking violently and eyes rolling around in their sockets, she looked as though she was having a seizure. Hannah, terrified, began calling her name, and dozing water on her face. But Professor Trewlaney was unaffected by Hannah's attempts to wake her up. Just when Hannah decided to run upstairs and get help, she started speaking again - in the same raspy, hoarse voice as earlier,
"HE REACHES CLOSER TO HIS DESTINY
THE DESTINY WHICH WILL BE IMPEDED BY LOVE
A CHOICE HE MUST MAKE
FOR THE GRISLY LANCELOT TO BE SLAIN
ELSE HIS TERROR WILL CREEP INTO OUR TIME
AND HAPPINESS AND PEACE WILL FADE
BUT THERE IS A PRICE HE MUST PAY,
THE ONE HE CHASES HAS PASSED AWAY
AND HE HAS WITNESSED HER DEATH AMIDST THE FRAY
HE REACHES CLOSER TO HIS DESTINY AT BAY"
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At the exact same moment that Professor Trelawny finished delivering the prophecy, a glowing round globe materialized out of thin air and placed itself automatically on one of the shelves, in the hall of prophecies.
"McCormack," shouted a bespectacled wizard. "Looks like Sybill Trelawny delivered another prophecy," he said as he read the inscription on the globe.
"Accidentally, you mean," said McCormack, an erudite wizard, chuckling. He came up to the shelf with a clipboard in hand, and wrote down the inscription on the globe.
Prophecy number 1285
S.P.T to H.A.L
Scorpius Malfoy and Bernaby Lancelot
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Once Trelawny finished delivering the prophecy, Hannah went to her aid, to make sure she was alright. Trelawny, mean while, seemed to have no recollection of the preceding event, whatsoever. She got back up and quietly went up to her room, sniffing and mumbling about her sister, leaving Hannah looking confused and dumbfounded at what she had just heard.
Did she just make a real prophecy? she wondered. Neville had told her about real prophecies that were stored in the Dept of Mysteries. Hannah, recounted what she heard to her husband when she reached her room and Neville seemed sure, that Sybill Trewlaney had delivered a true prophecy. But the contents of the prophecy baffled them both.
Even though it spoke of an event that was about to happen, the final words were in a past tense, as though some of these events had already taken place. As Neville and Hannah snuggled together in their bed, they had the same thought on their minds as the two wizards at the Dept of Mysteries. How could a prophecy be made of an event which had already happened, since prophecies spoke of events that would come to pass?
Even after her husband had fallen asleep soundly, Hannah kept her eyes open and wondered who the unfortunate pair were. And even though she didn't know who the prophecy referred to, she recalled their fate with pain, as the prophecy clearly stated that the girl was fated to die...
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