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Chapter 10 : Journal
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For slightlyobsessedwithfanfiction. Thank you so much for reading!
After sneaking into the village, my parents put me on dish duty. Nevermind that I could do them with my wand. They thought I would learn better by scrubbing the food off of each individual dish and took my wand for the morning.
It was worth it.
I was pretty sure the whole day was worth it when I made Scorpius buy the scarlet and gold outfit to wear on Halloween. He said the fabric was better quality than the other clothes.
The kiss down by the waterfall couldn’t be overlooked, though. At least I didn’t have to jump this time.
“How’s it going?” Dad smirked as he walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter across from me. “Getting some arm muscles?”
“Something like that.” I rinsed a bowl and placed it in the drying rack. “Something I can help you with?”
“Yeah. I wanted to know why when I go places I get you things, but you went into town and didn’t get me a present.” He grabbed a cup, licked the side, and placed it into my soapy water.
My father. Ugh.
“I didn’t see anything you’d like,” I replied, grabbing the damn cup.
“I don’t know that I believe that.” He grab a bag of crisps and hopped onto the counter. “Since I like everything. Food, toys, things that will annoy Hugo while he plays games, hats … I am even rather fond of visors.”
“I went into a women’s clothing store,” I said. “Sorry. Nothing for you.”
“How did Scorpius take to that?” The smirk on his face was unmistakable.
I looked over.
“Come on, string bean,” Dad said, rolling his eyes as he popped a crisp into his mouth. “Do you honestly think I bought that rubbish about needing to get away after the storm?”
“It also helped I was about to dump an extra glass of water out the bedroom window and saw the pair of you escape off the back deck.” The smirk was back. He looked so proud of himself.
“Why didn’t you tell Mum?” I rinsed the cup and placed it on the rack, starting on the cutlery.
“Why bother? I knew you were okay.” Dad shrugged. “And truthfully, it’s about time you started acting your age.”
“What? I’m mature!” Yes, that sounded very mature.
“That’s what I mean,” Dad said. “Enjoy your teenage years. I got to do a lot of fun things, but I also had to help Uncle Harry break into Gringotts and the Ministry and save the bloody world when I was your age. I want you to have some fun.” He tossed a crisp at my head. “But I will think of more creative punishments every time you sneak out without telling me.”
“More creative than chores?” I asked dully.
“Do you like weeding gardens?” Dad said. “I hear humidity is great for weeding gardens.”
“Any chance you want to switch places with Uncle Harry for a few days?” I said.
“Yes. Then I can coax Lily out of a closet, watch Albus read, and get James to stop snogging every girl he looks at.” Dad chuckled. “I think I’ll stick with you and Hugo. Two most low-maintenence kids. Even Perce has to work harder than I do.”
“That’s because Molly just got her fourth tattoo,” I commented, rinsing some forks.
“I heard it was of the claw of a raven. Any truth to that?”
I shrugged. “Last I heard she was trying to get a dreamcatcher or snake or some lemon candy she had tried that day.”
“No tattoos,” Dad said, eyes narrowing.
“Oh, really?” I turned, eyes wide. “That was what Scorpius and I did in the village yesterday. Matching lower back tattoos.”
He choked, but regained composure once he realized I was kidding. Poor Dad. That image must have been painful. “If he peer pressures you into a tattoo, just say no. Repeat after me: No.”
“No.” I paused. “Well, yes for a pretty blue and bronze butterfly just above my bum.”
“Tribal arm band?”
“Our old cat we used to have when I was seven?”
“How about your face?”
“That one’s okay,” Dad said with a content nod. “Make sure I look really mean in it though. Scare off those weird blokes.” He paused. “And get it on your face. I’ll pay.”
The paints were scattered across the kitchen table, stains on the wood that shouldn’t have been there. Dad and I were on the same side, discarded papers around us.
“It’s more like this.” He held up a poorly painted version of himself with angry red eyes and a scowl. Though his hair was blue because I had stolen the orange paint.
“It’s uncanny,” I said, sliding my latest version over to him. A disappointed stick figure with shaggy ginger hair and a glass of water.
“My nose does not look like that.” Dad touched his long nose.
I wrinkled my own. “Yes, it does.”
“Good thing you got most of your mother’s features,” he said with a chuckle. “Let’s convince Scorpius to get a tattoo of your name.”
“Oh?” I thought about how that conversation would go. And burst out laughing. “In cursive or print?”
“Definitely in print,” Dad explained. “A lot of people can’t read cursive well. Everyone has to know who he spent vacation with.” He nudged me with his elbow and went back to his blue-haired portrait. “Look at me? I’m Teddy.” Then he held up the paper and made it dance around.
“You’re clearly the most mature one in the house.” I grabbed a blank sheet of paper and started doodling my name in different scripts and colors. “Should I convince Scorpius to get it on his lower back? Or his arm?”
“How about forehead?” Dad mentioned. He stood, moving toward the sink to get a glass of water. “And on his earlobes. That ladies go crazy for earlobe tattoos.”
“You’re making that up.” I dipped a brush into gold paint and streaked it under my name, creating a beautiful flourish.
Dad pulled the back door open. “What do you think?” he asked. “Do you want Rose’s name on your lower back or your earlobes? You can say both if you’d like.”
My face went scarlet.
Scorpius didn’t look so brave anymore either. He was standing on the deck in his usual polo and khakis with a terrified expression on his face. “What?” he stammered.
“Tattoo,” Dad said, impatient. “Where do you want the tattoo? Turkey already sketched out several of them. Just pick your favorite.”
Scorpius moved into the room. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he moved to the table, leaning over to look at my paper. “Very … artistic.” It sounded as if he was having a difficult time breathing.
“I know a guy,” Dad added. “Rose gets tattoos from him all the time.”
I bit my lip to hide the smirk.
“You have at tattoo?” Scorpius asked, abandoning any tact he’d entered with. “I’ve never seen one.”
Dad plopped down in the chair at the head of the table. “Since I’m pretty certain he has only seen you fully dressed, I don’t see that it should be a concern,” he said dryly. “In fact, I have a turtleneck for you to wear swimming.”
I knew Dad realized we’d been swimming. He probably knew exactly how much of my body Scorpius had seen and was hoping it was not any more than that. Which it wasn’t. So awkward.
“Right!” Scorpius said, nodding heavily as his cheeks began to darken. “A tattoo. Yes. What is it, though?”
“Oh you know what happens when you’re peer-pressured,” I said in a lofty manner. “My ex and I decided to get matching name tattoos on our bums.”
Dad and Scorpius both choked.
“Joke over,” Dad mumbled. “I need to go clean with peroxide.” He stood, grumbling about something, and left the kitchen. Then he shouted to Mum upstairs.
“Not funny,” Scorpius said with a grin, sliding into the seat beside me. “So what were you doing anyway? Painting ways to terrify me?” He held up a portrait of my father from earlier with different colored eyes and an angry brow.
“That was pretty much it.” I moved my finger through the extra gold paint and wiped it across his cheek. “What brings you here?”
“I had a proposition.”
I thought about this for a moment. Scorpius never really had beneficial propositions. This could include being shoved off a cliff, fishing, waterfall-jumping, and dressing up in zebras. I made a face.
“I want you to have dinner with me tonight,” he said, stare linked to my own.
“Okay.” I shrugged. That wasn’t really a proposition, considering we had dinner together a lot in the last two weeks.
“And my parents,” he added.
I blinked. No way. My parents were one thing. They were used to all sorts of strange adversity and Slytherins and well, I knew them. Scorpius’ parents were another story entirely. I hadn’t so much as spoken to Mr. Malfoy and to be honest, he scared the Gryffindor out of me. He just seemed so traditional and respectable and chances are I would accidentally wear Ravenclaw colors and get kicked out. Not even to mention Mrs. Malfoy, who was here to recover.
And not be bothered by some Weasley girl who snogged her son on a beach.
She was going to see right through me.
I didn’t even know which fork was the salad fork.
I reminded myself they moved from the manor into a different house. A smaller one. Less traditional and powerful.
But that didn’t save my fork skills. Or lack thereof.
“Rose?” Scorpius waved a hand in front of my face.
“Um.” Why was my heart beating this fast? It wasn’t like he had proposed and we were meeting his parents and they were judging me. They would probably still be judging me though. What kind of anecdotes could I come up with to share at dinner? I knew how to mix paint. I survived being shoved off a cliff. Their son called me Juliet on occasion.
I was screwed.
“Do you think it’s a terrible idea?” Scorpius asked. “I figured since you’d been nice enough to let me stay I could return the favor.”
“Is it a good choice?” I asked, nose scunching. “With your mum sick? I don’t want to put pressure on anything.”
“To be honest, I think she’d welcome a face that wasn’t my father fussing over her or me trying to take care of everything.” He frowned and glanced at the door to make sure we were alone. “If you don’t want to, just say the word. We can have dinner by the lake or go into town and watch the sunset. Whatever you want to do.”
I stared at the swirls of text on the paper before me, confused. Of course I wanted to meet them. I did. Or did I? I didn’t sodding know.
This was complicating things. This was supposed to be a secret.
“Aren’t you supposed to keep your distraction a secret?” I asked.
“Rules are made to be broken,” Scorpius replied, the edges of his lips tugging into a smile. He placed both hands on the table and let out an easy sigh. “It’s about time we start breaking them.”
“Pretty sure we’ve been breaking rules for two weeks,” I noted.
“You need to catch up to every other seventeen-year-old girl,” Scorpius said, leaning over to whisper it in my ear. “I’m here to help you try.” He pressed his lips just below my earlobe and a jolt traveled from my neck down to the tips of my toes.
“I’m pretty sure you’re hitting on me,” I said. I was frozen. Even if my father walked through the door, I couldn’t have moved from that spot.
Scorpius didn’t move. Instead, he kissed a little further down, onto my neck, before pulling away. “What do you think?”
“That gave me chills,” I said breathlessly.
“About dinner, Rose.”
I blushed. “Oh,” I said. “Um. Yeah, sure. We could do that.”
“Brilliant.” Scorpius grinned and then pushed his finger through the gold paint, just as I had, and smeared it down the bridge of my nose. “Twins.” Before I could reply, he kissed me.
It was slow, a tender movement that forced my senses to concentrate on each tiny place his lips went. Scorpius’ hand rested on my thigh as he leaned into me. Everything was a blur, the scent of oil paints lingering in the air.
“Yeah, you’re gross.”
I jerked away from Scorpius immediately, shoving him back in a fight to catch my breath.
Hugo was leaning against the doorframe.
“Get out,” I breathed, wiping my lips. Godric. Heart racing. I swatted Scorpius’ hand off my thigh, as it hadn’t moved.
“I should just go ask Dad to come evaluate,” Hugo noted with a snarky smirk. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want his only daughter snogging someone in the kitchen.”
At least Scorpius blushed too.
“Please leave,” I muttered.
“Or?” Hugo said.
“Or I will physically make you leave,” I muttered and pulled my wand from my back pocket, placing it delicately on the table.
Hugo moved in front of me with the tabletop between us. “Have plans tonight?” he asked.
“Not anymore you don’t.” Hugo smirked arrogantly and turned, marching back into the livingroom. “DAD.”
“Fuck,” I muttered, looking over to Scorpius.
He looked like he’d been hit with a truck. Or a very large stunner spell. Or a bucket of salamanders.
“Do you hear a gun cocking?” he whispered.
I listened, but heard nothing.
“OH GODRIC GRYFFINDOR I CAN’T DO THIS.”
“That was Hugo,” I said, heart pounding. “Do you want to hide under something? Or in a cupboard?”
“Or the fridge.” Scorpius was on his feet, glancing around the kitchen for a place to hide. Unfortunately, it was an open space, which limited his hiding options to the pantry, cupboards, and his idea of the fridge.
He looked petrified.
Scorpius rushed behind the kitchen island, crouching down just as the door burst open again. It wasn’t my father behind it, though. It was Hugo again.
And he didn’t look mad. He looked just as scared as Scorpius.
“What happened?” I said, shoving the painted papers into a pile.
“I’m never going upstairs again,” Hugo noted. “I’m sleeping in your room. Snog all you’d like.”
“Where did this come from?”
“Mum and Dad were up there snogging!” Hugo whined. “I may never get that image out of my head!”
I knew when I got older, I’d understand where parents were coming from. But right now, at seventeen, I wanted to bleach that image out of my mind forever. And I hadn’t even been the one to see it! Gross. My parents. Snogging. Ew. Come on.
“It was like a train wreck!” Hugo continued in a whine. “I couldn’t look away!”
“Stop!” I cried, jamming my fingers in my ears. No more!
Mum. Dad. Making out.
Scorpius whimpered from behind the island. “I should have just hidden in the fridge,” he mumbled.
“You don’t have to see them every day!” I cried.
His hands appeared on the counter as he hoisted himself up. “Poor Hugo’s stuck here for dinner,” Scorpius said, smirking. He grabbed an apple and took a bite.
“Yes, poor Hugo,” I said, looking at my terror-stricken younger brother. “I’m sorry about that.”
“What’re you doing?” Hugo asked, sliding into a chair.
“I’m having dinner at Scorpius’ rental tonight,” I replied. If there was ever a reason to get out of this place, it was that. Eugh.
I was probably going to dream about that tonight. Gah!
“Lucky bint,” Hugo muttered, slamming his forehead down on the table.
Scorpius was standing beside the bedroom door checking his watch. Repeatedly. We were supposed to have left twenty minutes ago. “You look great, Rose.”
“How great though?” I asked, in a voice that didn’t sound like my own. I didn’t normally ask these questions to anyone except Dom. And that wasn’t even very often.
She would just glance over, tell me my arse looked fat, and go back to her glossy magazine. Then I threw a pillow at her head and she told me I looked brilliant.
“Should I repeat what I’ve already told you?” he asked in a bored way, looking up from the face of his watch. “Beautiful. Gorgeous. Fit. Pretty. Stunning. Do I need to continue?”
“I feel like you’re just saying that to get moving.” I stared into the mirror and tried to remember what he told me at the boutique. I had to take a step back.
The dress in question was nice enough. A cocktail dress, all black, with straps that hung off my shoulders in an elegant way. It wasn’t fancy or too casual. I put on a simple silver necklace and earrings and charms my hair to stop frizzing (okay, Mum did that). All in all, it wasn’t too terrible.
“I’m saying that because it’s true,” Scorpius reasoned. “But I will throw you over my shoulder to get there on time if we don’t leave in the next couple minutes.”
I shot him a look. “Don’t threaten me.” I straightened the wrinkles just below my hips. I hated those stupid hips.
“That’s a promise,” Scorpius replied, checking his watch again. “Grab your bag and let’s go.”
He looked a little nervous, as much as he held things together. I could see the tiny beads of sweat on his forehead and the collared shirt and tie wasn’t helping him cool down any. He was probably as nervous as I was.
“Dad told me to take a picture of your father’s face when I walk in the door,” I said, snatching my clutch off the bed.
“I’m sure he’ll be shocked,” Scorpius said, trying to play it off with a shrug. I wondered how shocked, though. I still had no idea what feelings Mr. Malfoy harbored toward my family. Dad and Mum were pretty open-minded with my judgment as long as they knew what was happening. Grandmum would probably give me an odd look, but that was as far as it went (not including cousins, as they would tease me relentlessly for my present company).
“Should I bring something?” I asked, eyes widening. Every time my family went somewhere for dinner, we brought a bottle of wine or a plate of cheese or something the displays at the store told us were appropriate as dinner guests.
“Pretty sure we have things covered,” Scorpius said.
“Did you tell them I was coming?” I asked. He’d left after our painting snog for a few hours.
“I told them I was bringing a guest,” Scorpius explained. “Now can we please leave or do you have trivia questions about the secret passageways in the rental home? I’m sure I’ve discovered them all.”
“You have secret passageways?” Why didn’t our rental have passageways? Or did it?
“No,” he said, sighing. “Now can we please bloody leave?” He shot me a very impatient look.
I then realized I was being THAT girl and decided to nod and follow him down the hall and into the kitchen where my parents were having a cup of tea and Hugo was nowhere in sight.
My parents who were upstairs snogging.
Dad’s brows raised upon seeing me. “You’re wearing that.” It wasn’t a question.
“Mmhm.” Smile? Don’t smile? Unsure.
“You look great.” Mum stood, pulling me into her arms. Pretty sure she wrinkled the dress. “Is this a fancy dinner? Or are you just dressing to impress?”
“Better than jean shorts and a tank,” I said, shrugging.
“You could wear a jacket,” Dad offered. “It’s chilly outside.”
“You were weeding without a shirt,” I offered.
“I get hot quickly,” he said.
“You then ran through the sprinkler,” I added.
Dad shrugged. “Just saying. You might get cold. Or a sunburn. Jackets are nice.” I could tell he wanted nothing more than to cover up my shoulders. Mum shot him a look that quickly shut him up, but I walked over and hugged him.
“Don’t worry, Daddy,” I said, kissing his cheek. “I’ll make it back with all my dignity in check.”
“Remember to tell me what Malfoy’s face looked like,” he said.
Scorpius held the door for me, said good-bye to my parents, and followed me off the deck. “We should probably stick to the road,” he said. “These clothes aren’t exactly made for the woods.”
“Neither are the clothes you wear every day,” I said. It was still warm, though the sun was coming down. Maybe it was so warm because I was terrified to meet these people. “Are you sure about this?”
“Really? Cold feet now?” Scorpius asked, offering me his arm once we started onto the gravel.
Was I getting cold feet? Of course. His mum was always in the magazines and she’d been so sick lately. Was it a good idea for Scorpius to just spring me on his family? Especially considering I had been the distraction? I had been what he got away to?
I was still nervous about his father.
And secretly relieved he didn’t have siblings.
“I’ll be fine,” I said after a while, keeping my eyes on the darkening trees around us. I liked how everything blended into the fog of the mountains, especially at this hour. Every color was melding together like a stew. Like crayons in the sun.
“I don’t know why you’re so scared,” Scorpius said. It was quiet for a moment as our shoes moved against the stones below us. The crackle reminded me of a fire. “They’re just parents.”
“Your father screamed at you,” I said, teeth tugging on my bottom lip. I didn’t look at him.
“You do crazy things when you have feelings for someone else.”
I was silent. I thought about how my father would react to everything. Especially if I wanted to disappear so often when my mother was sick. If I got fed up with taking care of everything and just needed the time on my own. I’m sure he would snap on me too.
“You’re right,” I said, nodding. “Okay. I’m ready. I am. Really.”
“Truly?” he teased.
Turns out, I was not ready.
My heart started to beat painfully against my chest as we walked up the drive to the house. It was the same, only looked bigger. Or I felt smaller. Either way every step felt as if it was taking me backward. Like we were barely moving.
And then, very suddenly, we were at the front door.
It looked so regal. I couldn’t even remember what the front door at our rental looked like, as I had barely entered through it during the whole vacation. It didn’t look like this, though. Giant, bronze bloody knocker in the center of the door. Made out of deep, dark wood.
If I ran, I could definitely get out of range of Scorpius scooping me up and bringing me back.
He put his hands on my shoulders, moving in front of me. “It’s fine,” he said, clearly able to spot the terror on my face.
Why was I even this nervous? Just parents. We weren’t dating. We weren’t doing anything more than the occasional snog and hanging out. What if they thought we were sleeping together? What if they thought we were announcing our engagement? Or a PREGNANCY?
I couldn’t breathe.
“Rose,” Scorpius said, shaking me a little. “Get a grip, okay?”
I blinked. Right. No pregnancy. No engagement. Feelings would probably come first, right?
“Okay,” I said, breathing deep. I could do this. I could. I was Rose Weasley. I could do anything.
I had no idea where that came from, as I was much more partial to being at home and painting than this. Or jumping off waterfalls.
Scorpius twisted the handle and moved inside. The foyer was large and held an umbrella stand and closet, along with a beautiful painting of a young woman holding daisies. There were stairs to the left and a formal sitting room to the right, but we continued down a short hall with a few closed doors.
“Father?” Scorpius called out.
“In the kitchen,” Mr. Malfoy said.
I watched Scorpius’ shoulders rise and relax as he took one last deep breath.
The kitchen was similar to ours with its large island and stainless steel fridge, but all of the cabinets were dark wood. The table to the left matched the color. Two red candles were glowing in the center. There was the door I’d peeked into and got a glimpse of Scorpius and Mrs. Malfoy’s nurse.
Mr. Malfoy was turned away at the stove, sauteeing a pan of vegetables. “Your mother is upstairs,” he said. “You’d better be on your best behavior, too, as she’s looking forward to getting out of bed.”
Scorpius was quiet for a moment. “Of course,” he said. “Can I help with something?”
“Go ask what she wants to drink with dinner,” Mr. Malfoy said.
“All right.” He turned and then jumped, realizing I was behind him. “Oh. Father. I brought a guest for dinner tonight.”
“Did you meet someone in the village?” Mr. Malfoy shut off the burner and turned, his brows instantly raising when he caught sight of me. He knew exactly who I was. There was no question about it. “Pleasure to see you, Miss Weasley.”
Hell. Oh, hell. What do I do now? He was all the way across the room. I couldn’t shove past Scorpius and shake his hand. Was I supposed to shake his hand? This is why people brought gifts. I could have presented a lovely bottle of wine at that moment.
Instead I stood there feeling awkward. “Nice to see you too, sir,” I eventually replied, red in the face.
“So what brings you to the mountains?” he asked curiously, folding his arms over the apron he wore. I recognized it as the one Scorpius had told me about the first day I saw him.
“Vacation, sir,” I stammered. “With my family. We’re staying not too far from here.”
“In another rental?” he asked.
“Ah.” He gave me a look I couldn’t quite read and then smile. “Well then I’m glad you could make it. Feel free to accompany Scorpius upstairs, as sometimes he has trouble with simple tasks.”
I damn near ran up those stairs.
The hallway was dark. The first open door led to a bathroom. The second a guest bedroom. Then there were three closed doors at the end. Brilliant. I took a deep breath and twisted the first handle, walking inside.
The room was bright with dying sun streaming in past the open curtains. The bed was in the center with a burgundy bedspread and matching pillows. All of the furniture (desk, dresser, wardrobe) matched the wood downstairs. If it wasn’t for the scattered books and utensils, I would have assumed it was a guest bedroom as well.
I thought about how much I had personalized the room I was staying in just after a couple weeks. My things were strewn about. I put a few pictures up to remind me of my mates back home. I had books everywhere.
Scorpius had done very little with his living situation. There was a fish tank atop the dresser with a few fish swimming around. Beside it were a few novels which looked untouched. His shopping bag from the boutique was on a plush, overstuffed chair. There were no photos, but my eyes did wander to a black journal on his bedside stand.
My heart started to beat faster. It could have just been something he wrote thoughts in. Or song lyrics. No, Scorpius wasn’t a writer. He could have written his ideas to be a host! They were probably private, though. Especially if they were about his parents.
They could be about his feelings or something.
I shouldn’t look.
Instead, I skimmed.
I thought she was going to kill me for pushing her off a cliff. Truth was, it was nice to just have someone to hang out with. Rose is an all right girl. I’m pretty sure she’s going to need to loosen up. I don’t think she’s happy. I think she’s afraid of being happy.
I feel like a fool for falling asleep on her tonight. Could I really have any less tact? I may have even snored. Hopefully the sunset distracted her.
I need to stop looking at her.
We painted today. I think we painted more of each other than we did the canvas. I kissed her too. Salazar, I shouldn’t have kissed her. Why did I kiss her? Things just got way too complicated.
It’s starting to rain. I’ve been listening to it for a while now. I’m fond of the sound of rain, but I’m worried about that thunder in the distance. I hope it goes south.
It’s not going south. I’m going to see if Rose is all right.
This is a mess. I have no idea what I’m doing and I hate that I don’t know what I’m doing. We were supposed to be friends. Hang out on vacation. Talk. Be each other’s distraction. How did this end up the way that it did? All I want to do is kiss her. I’m not shy about it and I don’t care.
But how was I going to tell Danielle I’d been kissing another girl?
Enter: Shit hitting the fan.
Sidenote: Apologies for not answering reviews in the quickest manner possible, like I used to. I am having limited spans of time to do anything after moving and the new job and puppy!! but I promise I will get to every single one of them. EVERY ONE OF THEM. Once things settle down a bit and I have time to just bust out large chunks at a time. So be patient. BUT I read every single one the day they come in. And sometimes post about them because I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH SNUGGLES!!
Who the fuck was Danielle?
Who. The. FUCK. Was. Danielle?
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