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Old August 24th, 2011, 3:00 pm
iluvsnape17  Female.gif iluvsnape17 is offline
Third Year
Join Date: 23rd October 2007
Location: in the blue room
Age: 23
Posts: 359
Re: Seeing Other People

Chapter 23 - The Walls

For a long time nothing needed to be said. The room was still and cool as they sat beside each other, never quite touching since that one, first time. They never lit any light, so it was dark too. When she looked at him she could see his silhouette, his long, pointed nose, sharp chin and flicks of pale hair that still shone in the moonlight. He sat rigidly.

Every now and then she'd go to hold his hand but then she wouldn't. Or she'd lean her head towards him, but pull it back. He did not move through any of this. And then it was he who clasped her hand tightly in his and turned towards her with the moonshine on his face. She stroked their entwined fingers and looked at him when she dared.

'Sorry,' he said and his eyes shifted in discomfort. She just looked at him, forgetting to register or respond to his words. Perhaps he was inclined to think that he had not been forgiven.

Something flowed between them that had not been there before; Albus would have seen it. Something had broken and the floods had crashed in. They sat in silence as it ebbed between them, its gravity holding them perfectly in place, their fingers just touching.

It was so dark, but Rose could feel him. She was so aware of his position, his movements, his breath. In the dark she felt him turn towards her but he did not kiss her. He released her hand from his. Their foreheads met and he held her face tight in both hands, his thumb running softly over her freckles.

'I've waited so long for this,' she allowed herself to whisper and he couldn't see her blush. He didn't respond, but pulled her face towards his and allowed their lips to momentarily touch.

Then she laid her head in her favourite place on his shoulder and stared at nothing while his fingers ran through her hair. There was such a cool calm in the room. In her body. All tension was gone and the world was at ease. The very walls of the room seemed to swoop down and caress her with the closing of her pale eyes. The distant trees through the window bowed to them, King and Queen of the London night.

Now and then a tremor of fear went through her; that she was out too late, that her parents would wonder where she had gone. But she just couldn't care. She couldn't bring herself to tear her head from his shoulder. To disappear and leave him in the lonely dark.

'Is everything ok now?' he asked quietly, and she listened to the hum of his voice. It was monotone and steady, it did not sing, it did not rise and fall like the mountains; it did not rise and fall like her chest; it was not a song; but, yes, a dull hum. And it warmed her and made her sure.

'Yes,' she said; and wondered if he had paid much attention to the tune of her voice.

And yet with every second the walls seemed to push in on them. The real world wanted to obliterate them. Twist through the window into the calm, dark room and fill it with chaos. Turn them outwards and away from each other. Turn them into something new, always different to what they were in this moment. She felt it.

Really, nothing of the sort was happening. Seconds were merely passing as they always do.

And then he wrapped her arm around her and squeezed her tight. Though she didn't know how, Rose did know that this signalled the end. People always squeeze you tightly when they mean to let you go. And sure enough he sat up straight and his arm was gone. Rose felt incredibly cold for a moment.

She knew what she had to say.

'It's late.' A bell tolled in the distance. 'I should go.'

They looked at each other and both of them put forth small smiles. She stood and he followed. Then Scorpius walked towards Rose and held his arms around her waist, and kissed her lightly on the forehead. She smiled and kissed his lips.

'I'll see you on the Platform,' said Scorpius, dispelling any hopes she had of visiting again before Monday.

'See you then,' she grinned despite herself.

And then it was over and she was passing like a spectre through the quietened pub and spun through the fireplace without attracting a glance. There was a happiness in her that made it impossible not to smile, and made her supress several laughs that had no obvious cause.

She had never looked forward to returning to Hogwarts quite so much. She could see the long evenings by the lake, the quietly flirtatious Potions lessons, the sour look on Anwen's face… Suddenly Hogwarts seemed to her the haven that her parents had always told her about. Perhaps she'd take Scorpius to tea with Hagrid, or they could spend their weekends hand in hand around Hogsmeade.

Lily would be pleased, she knew that, and Albus and James wouldn't mind. Hugo barely even entered her mind. And Violet… she had almost forgotten about Violet for the whole of Easter. She knew the ever-gentle Violet would be as excited as Rose. She would write to her tonight.

Rose tip-toed up through the living room. The house was dim and quiet. She could hear her father's snoring echoing down the stairs. Hugo's model Quidditch team were still hovering above the floor asleep where he had left them. She reached the corridor and heard a creak behind her.

Turning around, she saw her mother standing at the bottom of the stairs, her wild hair in a silhouette around her head. She was clad in pyjamas and dressing gown, and her brown eyes sparkled with a tired kindness.

'I was wondering where you'd got to,' she said, her voice edging into the severe.

'I'm sorry,' said Rose truthfully, 'I just forgot the time.'

Hermione looked at her for a moment, and seemed to soften as she picked up on the smile spread across Rose's face.

'Just tell us what time you're back next time, ok?' Rose nodded dutifully. 'And perhaps avoid your father in the morning.'

They exchanged an amused look and her mother turned to walk up the stairs. Rose had a bizarre feeling that Hermione knew the cause of Rose's happiness, but could not think how; for her mother's dark glance betrayed a satisfied knowing.

'Good night Rose,' she said with the same smug undertone.

'Night Mum,' replied Rose.

For a moment Rose paused at the foot of the stairs and marvelled in the majesty of the evening's events, but then she smiled, shook her head lightly, and ascended the stairs behind her mother.

She was soon tucked up in bed and the curtains drawn to block out the pale moon and penetrating stars. Rose wondered if 2 days' separation would be long enough to convince her that she had dreamed it, her hopes and imagining taken hold and finally driven her to hallucinating. And just before her tired eyes flickered softly to sleep, a mourning took Rose that she was too tired to comprehend, because sometimes people mourn for the end of sadness just as they do happiness, knowing that a part of them will change and be lost as paper turned to cinder in a fire.


'You're too old to be so shy'

~Rose and Scorpius' story about love~
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