I cannot accurately describe my anger in that moment. When Ron shouted and I turned to stare at him, that moment of incandescent bliss nearly brought my feet out from underneath me. Then, in another heartbeat, I was grabbed from behind, ripped from Ron’s view, stolen from my sudden happy ending. They told me later that Ron had almost died in that minute, even when he was supposed to be dead already, but by some miracle was not.
I was brought to a home out in the country, a big manor that felt right out of a Jane Austen story. They locked me in the cellar, a cliché I’d hoped they’d avoid. I tried to emotionally detach my self from the world, seeing as how there was plenty of room for fear and sadness in that moment. I worried incessantly about Rose, and Hugo, and what would happen to them as the term drew to a close, and they came home to an empty house. I wished that all the evil in theworld had fallen when Voldemort did; that strike of final victory seemed ridiculously fruitless now. I wondered if dear old Harry was feeling guilty for everything that was happening to my family. Part of me hoped he did. I don’t enjoy admitting it, but I began to wish along time ago that because my best friend was so special, he’d fix everything that was wrong.
Goyle spoke to me of his plans for me and my family. We’d all die one-by-one, Hugo being the last to breathe on this earth, alone. I nearly killed him that time, but no luck.
He filled me in on what was happening. Ron was in the hospital. Rose had disappeared from school, along with the boyfriend I’d hoped she’d never have. Hugo was staying at the Burrow, where he was hardly safest. Harry was out looking for me, Ginny was out looking for Rose. Goyle’s name was a constant in the Auror office.
Then, one evening, he came in, and told me that the time had come. He raised his wand in striking closure-esque poise, and muttered a word that I thought would end everything.
****
ROSE
****
Scorpius is a man, meaning he can be clueless, narrow-minded, and he has a tendency to only harbor one goal at a time. His goal as we set out through a secret passageway in the middle of the night was to prove himself worthy of me in my father’s eyes. Being a Ravenclaw, he’s never been much for bravery, but now I saw a new side of him. His eyes shone with the prospect of adventure, darkened slightly by the sadness I felt with each footstep. Dad was alive, thank God or Merlin or the Fates or whatever, but Mum, as soon as the happy ending came about, was taken, and set to be killed. Hugo’s bright energy was severely shot with worry as he meandered the school hallways each day.
I had to put an end to it all. Everyone marked me as mediocre and selfish, and I had to prove them wrong. Then there was my secret motives: leaving would turn everyone from Lily’s fan club. My perfect little cousin had everyone sympathetic to her heartbreak at my “betrayal.” If I left, she’d get high and mighty about the good riddance bit, and people would worry about me, and miss me, and blame her.
We came out of the secret tunnel into the basement of Honeyduke’s, up the stairs into the shop, and out into the dark street. The evening was warm and lit by street lamps, with the occasional couple or drunk old men about.
Scorpius took a deep breath, and stepped into the road, holding out his wand. Then he scrambled backwards as a giant purple bus materialized in the street, wobbling uneasily and creating loud popping noises. The few people up the lane spun around at the sudden excitement, only to see the Knight Bus and dismiss it.
I climbed up the stairs, hood over my face, discreetly giving the bus boy the fifteen Sickles. He began to speak, but Scorpius shook his head and gave him another fifteen. The young man pocketed them, gazing curiously at us before turning back to Ern.
I climbed the stairs slowly as the bus lurched, and Scorpius and I took beds on either side of the room, in case anyone we knew came on, so the whole “a Malfoy with a Weasley” ordeal didn’t add to the “why aren’t you in school” fiasco. I gazed out the window, breathing slowly, as the means of transportation rocked back and forth. Then I drifted to sleep, imagining that I was in a peaceful hammock, and the coolness on my face was a tropical breeze, rather than a stuck window with the night air rushing through it.
My Brave Face by grangergirl35
Chapter Notes: This one is reallly really short because I've been dealing with a lot of stress and emotional-induced writer's block lately :D Enjoy it and look forward to a longer installment soon! Oh, and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE check out my new story, Muggle Boy and Me, and review on that one because no one has!! and above all, REVIEW ON THIS ONE TOO!!
Yes, before you ask, I'm going slightly insane :D
Chapter Endnotes: Review, or do I have to rant again, people? :D