Azure
Blue - the colour of the sea and the sky. The universal favourite colour, blue is seen as trustworthy and dependable. Blue invokes relaxation and makes the body secrete chemicals that are soothing. That was why Albus Potter loved to fly; it pacified him in a way words never could. Only when he was high above the ground, soaring through the azure sky at extremely high speeds, could he feel truly peaceful.
The wind whipped his long, dark hair into his face. He brushed it away carelessly with one hand, balancing himself on his broom with the other as flew through the skies. Five days. He hadn’t talked to her for five days since they had the fight. He didn’t know what to do; he couldn’t figure out what he had done to offend her. The screams began to replay in his head like a badly tuned tape recorder. The sound of breaking china, the thud as the chair as it smashed against the wall... he could have handled it much more maturely, much more tactfully; instead he had just walked out, leaving her to cry alone in the dark.
He flew higher, faster, feeling the fresh air caress his face. Looking at the clear sky laced with white, misty clouds, he gradually felt his troubles fade away. He simply felt the exhilaration course through his body as he flew higher and higher. Closing his eyes, he took one hand off his broom and then the other. His legs straddled the broom tightly as he soared like an eagle through the cool blue sky. He cleared his head and focused on the soft breeze lapping against his face. He needed to let go of the world for a while, just to think. It had to be just him and the heavens.
He lost track of how long he flew like that, not caring about his surroundings. He could be himself while he flew, without a thought of the world. He felt much calmer. Slowly, he opened his eyes and bent forwards to grip the handle of his broom, steering it downwards. He had had enough for one day. The grounds became much closer as he descended, and that was when he spotted not just land, but also a beautiful lake with its vast waters spreading through a large distance and welcoming him innocently.
He bent forwards and, as fast as he could, dived towards the cerulean waters. The wind whooshed past him and his hair flew backwards. His brows were furrowed in deep concentration, and, just before he hit the cold water, he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled out of the dive, just like the Wronski Feint his father had shown him all those years ago. Instead of plummeting into the water, his toes just skimmed the surface lightly, spraying the cool, clear water all around. Little droplets splashed on his face and he smiled whilst breathing the clean air deeply.
For some odd reason, he found that a really pleasurable feeling. Laughing, he zoomed back up into the air, and, turning around on his broom, he looked at the lake again.
And that’s when he realised the water was icy blue.
The same shade as her eyes.
A wave of sadness washed over him as he stared into the water. He wanted to see her, to look into those eyes and talk to her again. He felt his mind being reeled back into the past, to that moment five days ago when she had cried her eyes out and yet he couldn’t do anything. It was his fault, not hers; his fault for acting like an idiot, for leaving her alone. He wanted to go back and apologise, beg her to forgive him for being the arse he was.
His mind set, he swivelled around on his broom and headed off... to her house. To their house.
He was in their room soon, on their bed, waiting for her. When she came back, oh, he’d surprise her so much. He’d make up for everything he had said and done. Everything.
She wasn’t back in an hour, so Albus decided to take a shower while he waited. Once he was done, he stepped out of the bathroom and put his hands on his hips, taking a look around the room. He hadn’t been in that house for five days, and it already looked like a storm had gone through it. Andrea never really had a knack for cleaning, Albus thought, chuckling. He arranged the writing desk neatly, capped all the ink bottles and rolled all the parchment together into a bundle. He picked up the clothes that were strewn across the floor and neatly folded them. Stacking them one on top of the other, he headed towards the cupboard. Opening the door, he put them all inside.
That was when his eyes fell on a toppled over a bottle of cologne.
He picked it up and scrutinized it. It was a small bottle of swirling indigo coloured liquid. It caught the light and sparkled like tiny glitter particles. It didn’t belong to him. Frowning, he wondered what the small bottle was doing there... in their closet.
Absently, he walked over to the bed and crumpled onto it. Had she seen anyone while he was gone? Was he already too late? –Trust me,†she used to say. He couldn’t think of what he would do without her. Sadness and pain washed over him as he tightly clutched the phial in his hands. Blue, he thought ruefully. It reflected his mood perfectly. How can I ever trust her now?
Periwinkle
–Dad, I love someone.†Rose Weasley couldn’t believe she had finally mustered up the courage to speak to her father about this.
Ron looked up from the newspaper, his blue eyes sparkling. –Ha! I knew you’d talk to me about this! Harry owes me twenty Galleons!â€
–What?â€
–Well, we had a bet when you were a kid,†Ron explained, an amused expression on his face. –Harry reckoned you’d never talk to me about your love life.â€
Rose grinned to herself. Her father would never change. But after what she was about to tell him now, would he still be so easy-going about her love life? He was still looking curiously at her as she took a deep, calming breath. –Don’t-Don’t you want to know the name of the guy?â€
–Oh. Er-- of course! Who is it?â€
–Scorpius Malfoy.â€
***
Scorpius adored the library at the Malfoy Manor. The giant, spacious room with huge windows and towering bookshelves was just the right place to while away time when there was some to spare. It had a very relaxing air about it. It was royal, calm and silent… blue, Scorpius thought.
The gigantic windows had royal blue curtains hanging from silver curtain rods whose knobs were studded with aquamarines. The chairs had soft, royal blue cushions on them. Most of the portraits around the reading hall were predominantly blue. The mantelpiece was carved with little blue flowers too. Though most of Malfoy Manor represented the traditional greenness of Slytherin, this reading hall was… blue. It seemed like a place where Scorpius could breathe, be free. It was his perfect hideout.
The door opened and Draco entered the room. Scorpius put his book down and braced himself for the talk that was going to ensue. This was not going to be easy. As Draco sat down on the chair opposite Scorpius, his cool, grey eyes curious, Scorpius’s heart began to race. He swallowed as Draco spoke. –What did you want to talk to me about?â€
–There is-- I think--†oh, fuck, just go on with it, Scorpius thought. He looked up at his father. –I am in love with Rose Weasley. I want to marry her.â€
Draco’s jaw dropped. –Ab-absolutely not!†he sputtered. –Does your mother--?â€
–She doesn’t mind,†said Scorpius, cutting him off. –I just wanted you to know that I’m marrying Rose.â€
–No, you are not!â€
Scorpius picked up his book and stood up defiantly. –I wasn’t asking you for permission. I’m marrying her no matter what you say. I just told you about this because I didn’t want to lie to you.â€
As Scorpius exited the library, the last glimpse he got of his father was when the latter walked to the window and ripped open one of the curtains, folding his arms and staring in shock at the clear day outside.
***
–No, Rosie.â€
–Please, Dad! He is a good person!â€
–No.â€
–Mum approves of him!â€
Ron frowned. –I’ll talk to Hermione, then.â€
–Mum’s okay with him, Dad.â€
–He’s a Malfoy, Rosie!†Ron said finally, waving his hands in exasperation. –These people are never up to any good.â€
–Please, Dad! Just try meeting him! I promise you’ll like him. He really loves me too!â€
–No, Rosie, I’m sorry. I just can’t trust that he won’t hurt you.â€
Despair filled Rose. She really didn’t want this to be happening. Ron got up from his seat and was about to leave when she clutched on to one last, desperate attempt to try and get him to agree with her. –I’ll- I’ll elope with him! I will! I swear!â€
Ron turned around and she saw hurt in her father’s blue eyes-- the ones that she had inherited. She sighed. –Okay, Daddy. I won’t do that. I won’t marry him.â€
He nodded tentatively, still unsure of her words. –Promise?†he asked quietly.
–Yes,†she whispered, her heart wringing in sadness. –Trust me, Daddy.â€
***
–Let’s get out of here before your Dad wakes up.â€
Rose nodded and waved her wand at her trunk to make it feather-light before handing it to Scorpius. He sat on a tree branch right outside her window and he grinned as he took her trunk. –We’re getting married, Rose!â€
She smiled wanly and bent over outside her window to kiss him. It was a long, sad kiss. She felt awful to ask her father to trust her and leave with Scorpius like this, but it was necessary. She was hopelessly in love with this man and she had to be with him. Scorpius understood her dilemma and wiped away her tears when she pulled away. –Come on,†he said, holding out his hand for her to catch so she could climb on to the branch.
She hesitated. –Give me a minute.†Walking back to her desk, Rose looked for a parchment and a quill. She couldn’t find parchment. Moving to her wardrobe, she opened it and extracted a pale blue handkerchief with a silver arrow emblazoned on it. It had been a gift from Scorpius last Christmas, since Rose was an ardent supporter of the Appleby Arrows (just like her father, she realised, who still supported the Chudley Cannons, no matter what).
Her eyes filled up as she wrote a note to her father with the quill on the handkerchief. It wasn’t as easy to write as it was on parchment, but she managed to write it down with shaking hands.
I’m sorry, Dad. I love him.
She was sobbing softly as she got to the window and Scorpius immediately climbed into her room and held her tight in his arms. She hugged him back and pulled away, wiping her face at the back of her hand. –Let’s go.â€
–Are you sure?â€
–Yes.â€
Scorpius sighed. –Your Dad will be fine, Rose. You have told him the truth, haven’t you? He’ll be okay. Trust me.â€
As she climbed onto the branch with Scorpius’s help, Rose knew he was right. She had broken her father’s trust and her own promise, but she had still told him the truth. In her life she was going to believe the words, ‘trust me.’ Unless Scorpius said that to her, of course.
Lapis Lazuli
Parvati shut her eyes and rested her head against Danyal’s shoulder. She could hear the roar of the waves as they simmered down before touching the shore and lapping against her feet with a soft, cool rush. She and Danyal had been standing together at the beach for an hour now, just feeling the waves of the clear, blue sea wash their feet gently. It was early in the morning and the vendors had not yet set up their bhel and chana masala and pav bhaji stalls on the beach for their daily snack trade. Apart from the sounds of the sea, there wasn’t even a whisper from the beach.
–You have to go home, now, Parvati, or they will start looking for you.â€
She opened her eyes, buried her face further into his shirt. She felt so good with him... so protected, so loved. She was sure that her to-be-husband, Yash, whom her parents had forced upon her, wouldn’t ever be able to make her feel this way. –I want to stay,†she whispered to Danyal.
He chuckled lightly, his deep voice soothing and clear. –Come on. Let’s go.â€
–No.â€
–Parvati…†He took her hand and led her to the beach as she leaned against him again. They stepped out of the beach and on and on as far as they could go. They walked for a long time; Parvati could have walked like that for the whole day, for months, for years, even, but she knew, deep inside her, that it was time to go.
Their story was simple and yet very complicated. Parvati was Hindu, Danyal was Muslim. Society said they couldn’t be together. But they thought otherwise. They were together against all odds. When Parvati’s parents found out about this, they got worried about society and decided to get her married off. And the man, Yash, was a complete stranger whom Parvati didn’t even like. He was not as handsome, intelligent or loving as Danyal. He was nothing. And tomorrow was Parvati’s wedding to Yash. Even thinking of it made her feel sick.
Parvati knew it was time to go. She looked at Danyal dejectedly and said, –I must leave.â€
–Yes.â€
–Danyal… I wish…â€
He shook his head. –It wasn’t meant to be, Parvati.â€
They stopped walking and Parvati entwined arms with Danyal, leading him to an isolated corner near a tree on one side of the street. There she cupped his face in her arms and stood on tiptoe, placing her lips on his. They kissed softly for a few seconds and parted. That was when she saw it.
It was a temple. She could see its long shrine from where she was standing. She looked at Danyal. –I need to pray.â€
–Where?â€
–There’s a temple right there.†She pointed out to the shrine.
He accompanied her without a word as she walked to the temple and he waited outside when she entered it. It was a Radha-Krishna temple. She could see the idols as she entered, Krishna beautiful and blue, enrobed in yellow with a peacock feather on his long, dark hair and a flute at his lips. And beside Krishna was Radha in a lovely red sari. Radha-Krishna. Eternal love. Pure love.
According to mythology, Radha and Krishna never got married but they loved each other unconditionally. They were considered the symbol of love, friendship and perfect companionship. It was said that Krishna enchanted the world with his beauty and charm, but was enchanted by just one woman-- Radha.
Parvati’s story with Danyal was no different. They loved each other, but they wouldn’t be together. Unless…
Greatly calmed by her blue deity, Parvati rushed out of the temple but Danyal wasn’t there. He had left. This was the end. There was no use for anything. The idea was good, but pointless. She blinked back tears, clutching at her wand in her pocket and heading to a spot where she could Diasapparate from. That’s when she saw Danyal. He was walking towards her, looking extremely serene. When he reached her, he bent over, hugged her and that was when she noticed the tall, blue minaret of a beautiful mosque just round the corner of the street. He had been praying too. And she knew what he was thinking.
–You’re taking me away from this tomorrow, aren’t you, Danyal?†Parvati whispered to him in his ear.
–Of course,†he said. –I won’t let you get married to him. You will always be with me.â€
–Are you sure this will work out?â€
He paused before his deep voice rumbled two words into her ear. –Trust me.â€
Celeste
Winter. The cold, blue winter. Outside her window, the snow was falling steadily and quickly, covering her lawn with a thick blanket of frosty snow that looked blue in the moonlight. Genevieve Zabini laid her head against the cool glass, allowing its cold surface to comfort the dark bruises on her face. It was at that moment, as she looked out at the bitter weather, that she realized how much she loathed winter.
It had been snowing five years ago on the same day. The day she had said her vows and proclaimed her love for that man... for that monster. She had been bound to him for life and she had no way out of his clutches. He would never leave her - not when she could serve as his whore, to be used and never loved.
The first time he hit her was on their wedding day. It came out of the blue, simply because she had refused to sleep with him because she was tired. As she had sat crying, staring out of the window and into the snow, he had apologised profusely, blaming it on the champagne and vowing never to do so again. But he’d not kept his word. He hit her, again and again, until he had beaten her black and blue. She thought it would stop eventually. She kept on loving him, praying for a change in him, hoping against hope the miracle would come. Yet he remained as cold as ever, and looking into his icy blue eyes she never saw anything but resentment.
She placed her hand on her stomach, looking down and stifling a sob. He hadn’t even thought of his child. She could bear anything on herself, but she could never bear him torturing their child. Her child, she thought ruefully. She would never let him get his hands on her precious baby. Caressing her stomach softly, she whispered, –Mama loves you.â€
Outside, a blizzard began to rage on.
In the dimness of the night, sitting alone with her child, she decided what to do.
–You trust Mama, don’t you?†she asked her tummy again. –Mama will save you. Mama shall take care of you. Alone.â€
She stood up, squaring her shoulders. Taking small steps, she made her way towards the door that lead to the room she shared with him. It was dark and gloomy, and the moonlight streaming in through the blue curtains gave the room an eerie cold shade. Taking care to make no noise, for she knew he’d appear at the slightest quiver, she edged towards the colossal painting on the wall.
With her wand, she carefully levitated it from the wall and placed it gently on the floor. The sound was muffled by the midnight blue carpet. As she looked up, her eyes fell, not on a bare stretch of wall, but an iron safe. That’s where he kept his most valuable belongings. Surrounded by dark and complex security spells, the safe was as secure as a Gringotts vault, and no one without the proper pass-code could open it. She knew the combination, thank Merlin. He’d trusted her enough to do so. He would never know that this trust would be his downfall...
Quietly, she turned the dials until one by one, they clicked into place. Scrunching up her face, she heaved open the doors of the safe in anticipation...
Sapphires. Ten of the large, glittering stones sat atop the metal surface, giving off a bright blue aura. Scooping them out, she shrunk them and put them carefully in her robes, along with a piece of parchment that lay at the very back of the crypt - his will. She closed the safe and covered it with the painting once again, a diabolic smile on her face. He’d pay... he’d pay for breaking her trust, for shattering her...
Then, taking the knife from the fruit basket sitting on the coffee table, she waited for Achille Zabini in the cold darkness.
Sapphires by majestic_ginny, Ginny Weasley Potter
Story Notes:
This is the first of a duo of one shots. The other, Rubies,will be up shortly :).
Chapter Notes: I don't think we need to say this, but... we are not JK Rowling!!
Chapter Endnotes: Liked it? Hated it? Comments? Please leave a review and tell us your thoughts!