Chapter 1 : Vision of Flowers
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Disclaimer: None of the characters or their backstories belong to me, except for the ones I created and the plot. Thank you JKR for letting me use your ideas! :)
The feeling of suffocation grabs at me and for a few precious seconds, I’m sure I’m about to die. I try to squeeze my eyes shut, but I’m unsuccessful, and they open wider as I take in everything around me.
“Rose Weasley… we could be great together, don’t you see?” The ‘don’t you see’ line echoes all around me until I’m sure that for as long as I live I will never forget that dark, creepy, evil voice, even if it only lasted mere moments.
The most frightening part is the vision I see, and I know now that trying to shut my eyes against it is futile. The magnificent, beautiful but sinister flowers flood my sight, and I see the dark pink flowers that I once would not have been able to name, but now they haunt my every thought, lurking there, reaching toward me with its tentacle-like petals. I imagine them to grow longer and longer until they wrap around my throat, cutting off my precious air supply, and then I suddenly shake my head clearing the image. The mysterious flowers are not trying to choke me or kill me, no; they are intertwining with a flower one would have to be a fool to not recognize. It is a deep blood red rose, and I know what it symbolizes. It is meant to be me, joining with the dark forces at work in my life.
The dark pink tentacle flower wraps around the red rose and they seem to turn and stare at me, though they have no eyes. They are on fire, but they do not burn to a crisp. It is how I know the magic is Dark, and not natural.
I utter a silent scream, and push myself through the rest of the barrier forcefully, and suddenly the sun is shining once more through the windows, and the scene is gone. Tears fall from my eyes, and my eyes sting. I want to say I am crying because of the brightness after such a dark passageway, but I’ve passed through that barrier so many times I’ve lost count, so I can’t cower under that excuse. I won’t admit it, but I’m scared, and I am crying because I am not strong enough to bear everything that has happened in the past few weeks.
I know my parents and Hugo will be emerging into the train station soon, as they surely followed me after I broke away from them. I can’t face them now. I dodge and weave through the crowd, hoping nobody who would recognise me will stop me. I need to get on the train, it’s my new mission. I know the drastic change I’ve made over the summer will perhaps aid me in my attempt of escape. Hopefully, nobody will realise who I am, that I’ve made enough of a difference in my appearance that they won’t know who I am at first glance.
It may be my lucky day after all because I make it safely onto the train, and thinking of avoiding my parents brings tears to my eyes all over again. I hate what they’ve done. I hate that I’m angry with them. Most of all, I’m furious with myself for not knowing somehow, and even more so at not possessing the great Gryffindor strength my parents had. No wonder the Sorting Hat hadn’t placed me there. I let the tears fall, hastily brushing them away as I go, but not trying to stop them. I stumble into the first compartment I find, not bothering to check if it’s empty. If people see my terrible state and want to talk about it, that’s their business. For now, I can’t let that drive my actions.
I sit down roughly in a seat away from the window so my parents can’t catch a glimpse of me, and begin to sob, putting my head in my hands.
I stare with confusion at the girl sitting across from me, weeping. I don’t say anything, perhaps she would rather be left alone. Her personal belongings feel oddly familiar to me, but I don’t dwell on it. I came to this compartment for some peace and quiet after the row I had with my father about my fascination with Muggle hobbies once again, but I can see now that I won’t be getting it. I focus more closely on the girl, trying to discern if I’ve seen her before. Her hair is a medium brown but it’s cut so short, I could have mistaken her for a boy if not for the way she cries. It’s short enough to rival any boy’s hair length, certainly shorter than my own, and I discern that from what I can see of the face that’s been buried so deeply within her robes, that it’s an attractive cut for her.
Because I can’t garner any more information from the hair, the robes, or the incessant crying, I focus instead on her personal belongings, because I remember suddenly that those struck a familiar note with me. After a moment of deep thinking, it comes to me. And when it does, I am horrified. Of course it would be her.
I’m shocked into not being able to make a decision. I can’t face her, but I can hardly send her away, either. No, that’s the last thing on earth I would want to do. I wonder why she isn’t with her friends and family, or that sorry excuse of a boyfriend she has. Why would she prefer to wallow alone in whatever issue she’s going through alone, without the support of her family? A sudden thought brings the glow and warmth that hope always brings; perhaps she is no longer with that terrible excuse for a man she has been parading around with for the past two years. Perhaps this is the year things will be different. I cannot wait any longer to find out, even if she hates me for it. After all, what else was new?
“What are you doing here?” a gruff voice rumbles at me from across the way. It’s an oddly familiar voice, and I wonder if for half a second—no, it can’t be. If it was, he would have sent me away as soon as he knew who I was. He wouldn’t be able to tolerate my company.
And what if I am wrong? What if it really is Scorpius? I peek through my hands, hoping he doesn’t see my childish behaviour and I confirm that it truly is Scorpius Malfoy.
Two parts of me war within the other, trying to persuade me to do different things. The one wants me to wipe the tears from my face, sit up straight, and try to be as dignified as possible without letting him in. The other wants to say “Screw the past,” and the way he hurt me and open up to him. I am torn, but I carefully wipe the tears from my face and lift my head up to look at him.
The years have done wonders to him. He’s well built, though from what I cannot grasp since he doesn’t play Quidditch at the school, broad and muscular. His hair is slightly curly and on the longer side, a hat covering most of it and his jaw square. But then I look into his eyes and I see they are the one thing that has not changed. They are still the same warm brown colour, like melted chocolate, and they have this depth to them that was what made me be his friend in the first place. It was as if he had been able to see me for who I truly was somehow and I had cherished that, since everyone else only wanted to label me as the child of the heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts. And, as I’d learned over the course of our friendship, it was because he knew himself what it was liked to be judged according to your parents’ actions, through no act of your own, and how much you just wanted to be seen for you.
Cringing, I also remember the last argument we’d had, where I’d lost him forever.
“I wish I had listened to my dad when he told me to stay away from you,” I shouted and watched as my best friend of four years became cold, distant, unfeeling towards me. He shut himself off from me and I knew things would never be the same between us ever again.
I snap myself back to the carriage and say, “Pardon me, I thought all the carriages were available to anyone who wanted to use them. I didn’t realise you owned any of them.” It is childish of me to say this, I know, but I can’t help it. The part inside me that wanted to open up to him is gone and now I must protect myself from being hurt by him again.
To his chagrin, I’m sure, he chuckles, but then stops immediately once he realises what he’s doing. He clears his throat and with a piercing gaze he says, “Still the same old Rose Weasley, I see.”
I want to protest at this unfair accusation. I am not the girl he knew two years ago. I cannot be that girl, not with everything that’s happened. In fact, I hardly recognise that girl; the one who’s biggest worry was impressing James’ best friend so that he’d ask me to Hogsmeade with him; the one who lost Scorpius as her best friend.
I don’t say anything any of that, though. Instead I say, “Not that you’d know.” He narrows his eyes and turns himself away from me in a gesture of distancing himself from me, and I regret my words. After two years I know there is no way to magically get back what was lost, but I don’t want to fight with him either.
“I’m sorry, it’s been a rough day,” I say, and mentally scream at myself to stop what I’m doing. I don’t, though. Scorpius turns back slightly towards me, but still doesn’t say anything. He must be waiting for me to elaborate.
“Trust me,” I say, “You don’t want to know.” He doesn’t. I don’t even want to know and if I could somehow perform an Obliviate charm on myself to forget what’s happened this summer, I would.
He doesn’t respond and a part of me is crushed, even though I knew better than to let him in. We sit in awkward silence for awhile until suddenly the compartment door bursts open and my boyfriend, Andrew Belby, and my cousin James walk in. Scorpius immediately stiffens in response to their presence and I quickly jump up, somehow trying to spare him from anything they might say, like old times wanting protecting him the way we always used to protect each other.
“There you are, Rose, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Andrew says, kissing my cheek. I manage a small smile at him, and that’s when he takes in my appearance.
“Holy hell, Rose, what happened to your hair?”
“I cut it,” I say, a little defensively. I see Scorpius roll his eyes out of the corner of mine, and it makes me stiffen. He must think me idiotic to state something so obvious, and apparently, Andrew agrees with him, or at least things I’m a little ridiculous because he laughs.
“I can see that, love,” he says, throwing a look at James who puts his hands up and says, “What? I haven’t seen her since you did either, mate!”
I step around Andrew, my cheeks heating up and make my way out of the compartment, wishing they’d be a little more sensitive at least. Just because I’d cut my long locks didn’t mean that with them my Ravenclaw smarts had gone along with them.
“Wait, Rose, I’m sorry,” he says, catching my shoulder. He traces a finger lightly down my cheek and says softly, “You look beautiful.”
James snorts and makes kissy faces at us, which we ignore, but Scorpius speaks up then. “Do you mind? I came in here for some peace and quiet, not to watch a disgusting display of teenage hormones.”
I feel as if I’ve been slapped, except that this is more like the Scorpius from the last two years so I should be used to his coldness. Just because we had a short moment doesn’t mean anything’s changed.
“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” Andrew says, reading the look on my face perfectly. I want to hug him in relief, but settle for clasping my hand in his. He hasn’t even brought up my swollen, red eyes, and I wonder if somehow I’ll get off easily.
“Please,” I say softly, and beckon towards James who still has a goofy grin plastered to his face. He trails after us; finally coming up on Andrew’s other side.
“What were you doing in there with Scorpius, anyway, Red?” James pipes up. “We were all waiting for you in our usual compartment. Hugo was practically desperate, wondering where you were, like he hadn’t just seen you less than half an hour ago.”
Hugo, I think despairingly. I wonder if he’s told any of the other cousins about my crazy behaviour. I hope that somehow his sibling bonds will run deeper than any need to gossip and that he hasn’t; otherwise I’ll be forced to come up with yet another lie. They can’t know.
“Yeah,” Andrew adds in, “I thought you and him weren’t friends anymore. I didn’t know you were back on speaking terms.”
Well, at least that I can answer. Before Andrew had interjected himself into the conversation, I’d wondered how best to answer James’ question, but now I hope I won’t have to after all.
“We’re not,” I protest violently. “We’re definitely not back on speaking terms.”
Something in my tone suggests I don’t want to talk to them about it and for once they take the hint and don’t offer up further questions. They know Scorpius is a touchy subject for me. Andrew had held me many times while I cried after losing him; he knew how devastated I’d been.
We walk on, finally arriving at our compartment James had sort of claimed for our family members at the start of his years at Hogwarts, though we let people like Andrew sit there too, if they were close to us or the family. When I walk in, everyone stares at me and I wonder why for a moment before Andrew looks pointedly at my short hair.
To mask my unease I grin at all of them as best I can and say, “Too much of a hassle to keep up; it needed to go.”
Dominique, my older cousin in James’ year who is also the go-to-guy for anything fashion related, something he’s always made fun of for, immediately stands up to get a closer look and when he smiles, I know he approves.
“You should have cut your hair ages ago,” he says, while smiling at me. “It looks brilliant on you.”
“What do you think, Andrew?” my other cousin, Roxy, asks.
“I think she looks gorgeous. Not that she didn’t before either, of course,” he says, stuffing his hands in his robes and everyone rolls their eyes at the cheesy statement, but it warms my heart all the same and I kiss him.
The three of us sit down and talk amicably with the rest of our family for the rest of the trip to Hogwarts. I feel some of the gripping tension of what’s happened dissipate and even the scene I saw going through the barrier makes its way to the back of my mind. This is where I belong.
In a span of only a few minutes, everything I’d carefully worked for the last two years was completely gone, as if someone had lit a match and set it all up in flames. Now I’m left with the wreckage, most of the damage being in my heart.
Sometimes I think that fate just loves to mess with me because of everything my parents and my family has done. I wonder if there’s someone up there laughing hysterically at the mess my life’s become, as if it’s some sort of retribution for every evil thing the Malfoy has done in their quest for power.
I’d been doing a fantastic job of avoiding Rose Weasley for the past two years, even if we were in the same House. It was easy, so long as you surrounded yourself with other friends in the classes you were required to take with her, and chose electives you knew she’d never be caught dead in, like Wand Painting, or Divination, silly things like that. Though I did really enjoy the Wand Painting last year, much to my father’s disappointment. He wanted me to work in the Ministry and all I wanted to do was paint, work on my Muggle cars, and play guitar.
Then she had to come and ruin everything and even though I tried to stay angry, it was as if Rose simply melted all my defences away, as if they weren’t there anymore. Of course I’d hoped she was crying for a somewhat good reason, like that git Belby had finally tossed her off and that she’d come back to me begging for me to take her back and that I had been right all along. I didn’t like any other scenarios that floated through my mind.
She had almost broken me in the few minutes we’d sat in the same compartment. If her boyfriend hadn’t come in and spirited her away like he always did, I would have. And now I couldn’t get her out of my head or her tears for that matter. It bothers me to see her cry, it always has. It hurt even more when I was the jerk making her cry.
The weird thing was, the night before I’d dreamed about her. Of course, she’d still had her long hair in the dream or I’d have recognised her right away today, but still it got to me that the vivid pictures from my restless sleep I had wouldn’t go away.
I lace my hands behind my head and blow out a frustrated sigh. She’d been in trouble in my dream and I’d always been a second too late to save her. The situation would replay over and over again, sometimes with me not moving in front of a curse fast enough, or not catching her hand before she tumbled over a ledge. And there was this weird laugh that kept replaying throughout the dream, as if someone was enjoying our pain. That was the person I wanted to hurt more than anything. Anybody who hurt Rose hurt me, including myself.
I’d woken up from that dream disoriented and when she’d stumbled into my compartment today, it had brought everything back clearly. I’d gotten my own compartment instead of sitting with Vince or Peter like I usually did so I could cool off after the argument my father and I had had before I’d gotten on the Express.
He’d wanted me to give up my “stupid” Muggle obsessions and pursue a Ministry job, so I could earn some honour back into the Malfoy name. Of course, a job like that would probably first of all never happen, and it was also the furthest thing from what I wanted as could be.
Deciding suddenly that I don’t want to think about Rose or my father any longer, I stand up and exit the compartment to find my other friends. I know if I stay in that place much longer, it will drive me mad, and for now, I just need to forget.
When we finally arrive at Hogwarts, I’m more than ready to get off the Express. I’ve had enough small talk with the family discussing what the most exciting thing we did over the summer was, and I’m ready to take the time to unpack and get ready for the Welcome Back Banquet since we leave the station earlier in order to arrive at Hogwarts earlier. That way the first years don’t have to find their way around in the dark and it’s easier to give them tours of the castle. Plus it allows the other students to dress up for the first night back, something we always look forward to every year.
Also, even with everything that’s been going on in my family lately; I’m excited to see my best friend and dorm mate, Lorcan Scamander. She’s a Prefect, probably destined for Head Girl next year and while I’d been with the rest of my family, she’d been sitting in the Prefect compartment, no doubt talking about all the new rules they’d be implementing this year. That was where Lucy and Molly had been, Molly being this year’s Head Girl and Lucy a Slytherin Prefect.
I turn to Andrew once we’re off the Express and say, “I think I’m going to head straight up to the Tower to see if I can’t catch a quick nap.”
“Do you want me to bring your bags up for you?” he asks and I smile at the sweet gesture.
“That’s okay,” I say quietly, “I don’t need anything, and they’ll have all the bags up soon anyway.”
He shrugs, kissing me on the cheek before catching up to James. I’m thankful he could tell I’m exhausted and didn’t feel like having company.
When I get to the fifth floor, skipping over the missing prank step the Grand Staircase always has every year, I climb up the spiral staircase that leads to the door that doesn’t have a knob, just the familiar bronze eagle knocker, and wait. Soon a voice from the knocker booms out a question to which I provide an answer and the door swings open.
The deep royal blue carpet always sends pleasant feelings through me as it’s my favourite colour and I smile at nothing in particular. The Common Room is mostly empty, everyone else still catching up with friends, so I don’t have to worry about anyone else interrupting me.
The Common Room has been decorated with the usual blue and bronze streamers and curtains everywhere, seeming to glitter and sparkle and I know Professor Patil has been working on the decorations for some time. She always does so well and since she’s taken over being the Head of House after Flitwick became Headmaster, you can be sure to see her own personal flare when it comes to decorating the Common Room for the start of school.
I climb even further up into the Sixth Year girls’ dormitories and flop onto a bed made up with a stunning dark blue, light blue, and a glimmering bronze quilt, the colours interwoven to create a spectacular looking blanket. My eyes close instantly and I fall into a sleep full of dreams.
I think I will dream of the flowers and of the voice that has haunted me for the past three weeks, but instead, I dream of Scorpius. In my dream, I exit from the Ravenclaw Common Room to go down for the feast, and as I leave, he comes in. Everything halts and I look around for escape, but, yet another odd thing about the dream, there is absolutely nobody in sight. I look awkwardly up at him, but he’s got this face like he’d rather be anywhere else but in my presence, so I too put on a similar face. After awhile, he stalks away, and I continue down to the Banquet, reflecting on how odd it is that I’ve hardly seen Scorpius more than a handful of times after we stopped being friends, but now, somehow I’ve seen him twice in one day.
A/N: Here it is! The new and (hopefully) improved version of Twisted World! I did end up taking down the other story simply because I will be including some scenes and important parts from that story nearly verbatum and didn't want to break the site's rules of having two of the same story up! I've backed up all the reviews though, don't worry! So, tell me what you think? Like the new Rose? Don't? Do you like the random Scorpius POV parts or no? What about Dominique as a guy and Lorcan as a girl? (always wanted to try that out!) Reviews are love, they're the only way I can improve!