Chapter 25 : Chapter Twenty Five
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 1|
Background: Font color:
I’m being auctioned off.
Literally. Well not literally. Subtly. Well… Aubrey Weasley subtle.
Tomorrow I’ll probably be found under some Christmas tree in nothing but a giant red bow.
“I do not want to wear this” The ball has begun. But I’m still imprisoned in my room, re-enacting an episode of UKs Next Top Model. Molly was deemed bachelorette ready 48 minutes ago. Apparently, I needed a little more primping to be pimped out. My hair is bigger than a mammoth struck by lightning. My dress is red, showing off way more cleavage than I’m comfortable with. And the shoes are something even Rose would balk at. They sparkle alright, all the way up my leg. It’s like a road map, for the really stupid.
“Lucy! Pricilla just redid your make-up! Frown Lines!” Mother barks, whilst bouncing up my hair for the hundredth time, she catches herself in the mirror and smiles admiringly. Wow. Vanity reaches new heights in the Weasley Household.
“I thought boys were a distraction, Mother” They were nothing but unbearable with restrictions when I finally told them about Alex, well really, he introduced himself. And now I’m somehow, desperate, dateless and sweating for sex.
“Indeed. Downstairs are men, Lucy. Men. Not those immature school boys” She says this like they’re a group of Wild Brumby’s that she’s just rounded up for the big race. “Your father and I have decided, you’ve reached a mature age, and after the unfortunate incident of Alex, we believe interference is necessary” Aubrey huffs. “Now, turn.”
What noteworthy levels I have reached. What accomplishments. Twirling like a ballerina, hardly challenges the instrumental skills of the judgement day 360 turn.
Shoulders back. Chest out. Smile ready. Now turn.
“Someone older and more mature, will help guide what your next steps might be.” She continues. “It’s never too early to start planning for the future” Life is about supporting the husband. Not supporting each other. What a ghastly thought. I shall be stoned for my futuristic thinking.
“Aren’t you needed somewhere, like there are certain limits to being fashionably late, especially when you’re the hostess. There might be an impeachment” I suggest, cheerfully.
She sighs sardonically, pretending I don’t exist. “I guess you’ll have to do. Just keep the opinions to the minimum, Lucy”
“Oh. I know mum. They like em’ dum” I wink and finally make my escape.
She's wearing a Santa hat. Raven. A muggle one. It's not so odd as it is Christmas Eve. It's more how did she got inside wearing the Santa hat. Is it like a 007 type situation? Due to a previous mishap with the minister’s wife and Aubrey donning the same outfit at a previous event, screening measures had to be implemented. The grey sparkly low back jumpsuit is drawing quite a gather of compulsion from onlookers. Although Ace is still attracting a fair portion of spectation, especially with the added entertainment of deciphering Aunt Aubrey’s angry hand gestures. Uncle Harry deems the ball officially opened and people resume their conversations at a more comfortable decibel, above their previous hushed tones.
Raven elbows me playfully "but don't let the twinkling eyes fool you love. He’s a wonderer," she advises to my previous remark about Scorpius and being romantic.
Scorpius downs the last of his drink, then manages "Raven... what are you doing here?"
I feel like a third wheel. Maybe I could just back away unnoticed. I haven't been introduced. I'm basically as apparent as the incredibly detailed gingerbread castles on each table, with ice skating snowman.
"I'm back." She smiles.
"What?" Scorpius enquirers confused.
Raven laughs and steps closer. "You know your nose crinkles when you smile. It's adorable."
"What do you mean you're back?"
"Were you always this dim-witted? You're lucky you’re a good snog." Scorpius doesn't even blanch.
"I don't understand." He grabs another drink.
"Point Raven." She grins to herself.
"We're not competing."
"We're always competing." Hands on hips.
"Your parents are here." He observes the couple over her shoulder, laughing comfortably with the Minister and his wife.
She rolls her eyes. "Well I haven't runaway on a childhood romance. I drive a motorbike remember, I still need financing. And plus, after 17 years. I've kind of got used to them."
Scorpius shoulders sink. "Did Salem kick you out again?"
"I was cleared of all charges. And that Bowtruckle was evil, I swear." Raven huffs and punches Scorpius arm playfully.
He snorts, "You're definitely the repeat offender sort."
"Perhaps." She shrugs grinning quite devilishly.
"Are you going to fill in the gaps." He sighs.
"Nah. I like an air of mystery" she winks, still twirling the mistletoe.
Scorpius rolls his eyes "Where's Leo?"
"In a dark corner, somewhere" Raven grabs a flute as the tray passes. "I see you've still got your trail of admirers," she gestures to me whilst taking a poised sip.
“I’m Rose, just one of Malfoy’s many groupies,” I manage with an outstretched hand.
She laughs with only slight falseness. “Raven. Rose as in the flower? How romantic.”
Scorpius scoffs. “More like the thorn.”
There would be what 600 people here.... and I end up on a table with Molly and her circle of boy toys and bitches. Funny how Max and Fred were dropped last minute from the invite list due to although not confessed, there vibrant follicles. Albus was exempt, due to his royal family breeding. And this skank gang made the cut. I hate this. Ace's reunion is what's calming the hate fire at the moment.
"Darling... have you met Jarred here, such a wonderful dancer he is." Molly conspires.
Jarred winks hauntingly. "Yeah.. I know Rosie Posie. We used to serve detention together."
Molly touches his arm and giggles "Ooh. I always knew you had a dark side Jar."
I stand up, preparing my getaway "Yeah. Yeah. Fun times. Anyway... I think I see someone over there... yep." I make a step toward my freedom.
"Wait..." Molly latches onto my arm, like the man-eater she is. "Roz. Jarred wants to dance."
I squirm and smile sweetly "Brilliant. I'll be sure to catch the encore."
"Sit! Everyone's eating Rose." She scolds, like I'm a country bumpkin who doesn't understand or comprehend basic social etiquettes.
I begrudgingly admit defeat. How Molly and her table of bimbos landed a table together, I want to know. Lucy is with Jordan at least, although the rest of the table is occupied with men. I was at that table, but I think Mumma Bitch had me moved when I suggested Lucy wearing her hair up... I'm also the only girl who has more than a small canapé on my plate. The hate fire is beating the self-consciousness. The constant chewing helps drown out their voices. Although the derisive looks from Molly each time I dollop another spoonful onto my plate, fills me with pride. However, the food isn't exactly spectacular, so I'm starving. I wish I hadn't scoffed all the peppermint fudge sticks on the way here. I could really do with them. Damn Hugo and his swift sneakiness.
"I see your line up is growing shorter... Too much waiting around, not enough job satisfaction?" Zana smiles snidely across from me, with a gesture toward the table, I have been successfully avoiding all night. They're sitting together of course, as fate decided, or more Aubrey Weasley colluded. Chase is at the table too, and keeps sending me worried looks, although they are few and far between the sneaky smiles sent to Albus Potter. Ah, young love. The fools. Zana is the worst sort of girl. She's seventh year. So, she's all up to date with the whole Scorpius and Rose dramedy, that just won't get cancelled, no matter how low the ratings are. Her and Molly bonded through boyfriends, bitchiness and the school drama committee. Although a past indiscretion involving Zana's boyfriend and myself may have been an influencing factor to the resting bitch face. But no harm done, look at them now, all snide whispers and gritted teeth. Match made in heaven.
"Got it in one, Zana" I swallow a big mouthful of potato. She shrieks back in disgust, like the proper little lady she isn't.
"What are we talking about?" Molly perks up from inspecting her diamond jewellery.
"Scorpius Malfoy and the Gucci girl." Ava joins in. They refer to any girl in the room by dress designer. Although Raven Finlay seems known to many, just a complete stranger to me. Except she carries mistletoe, and uses it when a subject is worthy. She's from America, although has an English accent. Drives a motorbike. Is in sixth year, top of her year at Salem, head of the QCS (Quidditch Cheerleading Squad) and has had a questionable altercation with a Bowtruckle. Has a twin brother and a pet Niffler, who is apparently well trained, not sure which she was referring too. Her parents are in attendance. Doctors. Like director of St Mungos, doctors – Probably how she knows the Malfoy’s. She has a killer pair of shoes on. Is all legs. And cannot stop touching Scorpius' arm. Not that I'm like taking tabs or anything.
"The guy is a total heart throb, although slept with half the school." Leah joins in, she's Zana's best friend. Hated by default.
"I don't mind. Means he knows what his doing. Practice makes perfect." Zana giggles, with her boyfriend seated right beside her, although his too busy eyeing off Molly. It's like I've been transported to the Hufflepuff dorms, all stalking pictures and locks of hair. I try sending Hugo a rescue transmission. He's too busy sulking into his plate. Alice is spoon feeding Jacob. But Hugs keeps missing her longing looks. That's the trouble with the jealousy game, someone always ends up hurt or ignorant.
"Mel told me he likes it rough." Leah continues. Oh Merlin.
"Kinky." Molly joins in. I wonder if I'll get the table to myself if I barf, right here, right now.
"What about your sister Mol?" Ava enquires fauxly disinterested. That's how you survive in groups like this. Dirt. And lots of it. Where do you think political strategies were born? Or Royal overthrows and impeachments? It's rough out there.
"Oh Merlin..." Molly begins frustrated. My fist tightens. "She's such a disaster, just been dumped, the nerdy boyfriend even got sick of her" A spray of cream flies and lands above Molly's lip, the perfect moustache. She doesn't notice. Her friends just continue eating. Classic. I pocket back my wand.
"So, what about you Molly? How's Derek?" Leah tries. Derek is Molly's latest conquest. He's a Potioneer for the medical sciences. Apparently Quidditch players are so two days ago.
Molly snorts "Oh. A total bore."
"Damn I thought he could have been the one." Lyla sighs, disappointed. Apparently, Molly has a rule, none of her friends can get married before she does. The naked fingers populating the table, are a commitment to Molly's wrath. Although, they are all only nineteen.
Molly just laughs and says, "Just goes to show girls, intelligence isn’t everything." No, it's more about the swelling bank accounts.
After dessert number two, the musical chair game begins. Conversations become exhausted so we move to repeat on other unsuspecting persons. My new neighbour is a handsome young fellow, who deems ties are a thing of the past and is wearing an ugly reindeer Christmas vest with his dress suit. It's actually quite becoming. Unfortunately, the chair moving hasn't extended to musical tables. Mum keeps sending me encouraging looks. I keep tapping my wrist, for a safe retreat to my bed. It's not supported, but sympathised.
"So, I'm guessing, this tantalising conversation isn't your usual?" He interrupts my ceiling tile counting.
"Less privileged, more commoner." I comment exhausted. Less glass slipper, more glass ceiling.
"Thought as much." He smiles, he has a nice smile, I notice. "I'm Logan. Jarred’s younger brother." He extends his hand, I fulfil the social convention. His hands are rough. Which normally means one thing, especially on a table that occupies Molly Weasley - Quidditch player.
"Cool. I'm Rosie Posie." I smile. "Detention whore." I add.
He smiles again, all teeth, he has nice teeth. "You want to dance?" His expression turns slightly nervous.
"Two offers. Both brothers. How forward. I feel like I should have a dance card for notoriety" I quip and stand up, he follows. At least it gets me away from the table. Molly's eye twitches and smile pinches. I grin cheerfully.
"She's got nothing on you, you know." He begins. I'm only slightly conscious of his hand on my waist.
"What?" I shriek back. Merlin, I hope the only resemblance between Molly and me, is in last name only.
"She's hot. But you're something else." He continues, and gestures to Raven. Oh. Merlin. "He's just an immature boy, distracted by a short skirt" Logan leans in a little closer. A small part in the deep recesses of my brain begrudgingly admits Scorpius is nothing like that of course. Well at least not anymore. I think. I have skilfully avoided his eye all night.
"Right, and what does that make you?" Maybe I'm leaning in a little closer too.
His face contorts into a big smile again, I can see his molars. "One year older."
I break into laughter. What a girl.
I, Lucy Weasley am drunk. Mums disappointing eye has been shadowing me all night to the bottom of a champagne flute. Jordan's equally eager thirst didn't help. Also, neither has the judging stares and whispers of nearly everyone in the room except for the Wotters, that made the cut.
"I need a grilled cheese sandwich." I whisper to Jordan who is moving to the dance floor with James. My circle of men remain unhappily seated. Merlin. I feel violated. What is wrong with my mother? I can't believe she uninvited Max and Fred and moved Rose. Although Rose appears to be surviving, or at least the handsome face of Logan Mitchell, is minimising the pain. Scorpius hasn't noticed. Huh. Hope they both know what they're doing. And I can't believe I missed the Ace reunion. I grab another drink, to dull the anger.
Jordan nods and I make my stealthy exit.
The gooey cheese never tasted so delicious. Mums menu, whilst suitable for those on magazine covers and such, but is completely underwhelming for the deprived who haven't eaten all day.
The kitchen, whilst bustling with half cooked pumpkin pies, and melting marshmallow snowman, was a gratified reprieve from the show pony dating game of the ball room.
Well it was, until, a tray of red wine was horrifyingly emptied on me, my dress and the last of my grilled cheese sandwich. I nearly burst into tears.
"Um..... Oops" a sultry voice sounds from above me.
I look up at the mysteriously dark skinned heartbreakingly handsome troublemaking face of a boy, around my age, balancing an empty tray, with unapologetic eyes and an amused smirk. Is he lost or something?
"...oops?" I affirm. He shrugs. The wait staff bustle around me with desperate apologies sweeping up the shattered glass with a flick of the wand. It's then I notice he is not a waiter. Mum decided she wanted like proper muggle style wait staff, instead of the house elves, they were to stay in the kitchen.
"I'd say sorry. But I'm not," he smiles, then scoffs down the rest of my red wine soggied grilled cheese sandwich.
"Such a gentleman," I sneer and jump down from the bench I had retreated too. Who is this guy? And why is he talking with me of all people.
"Well with all the talent here tonight, I'm honoured that you noticed," he bows mockingly.
I snort unattractively. I have no one to impress. This guy is more someone Molly would bring home or Rose. "I haven't noticed you at all. You had to drown me in red wine to even garner a glance. What does that tell you?"
He steps closer. "You make me nervous."
"Oh. Please," I roll my eyes with exaggeration. "You know exactly what you're doing."
He's about to reply, when another shattered tray draws our attention. I really wish it hadn't because then I wouldn't have heard what they said. A group of girls were gathered near the kitchen entrance, watching the table I had just left with disdain.
"Did you see her? Sitting with all the men, like she's queen. No amount of beauty spells will make her worthy. Josh Gabriel is at her table. He's reserve for the Wannabe Wasps. She's delirious. She can't even manage to find a date for her own Christmas party."
"Her sister is so much prettier."
"I'm not sure why she's even here. She doesn't even know how to behave. She's so socially awkward, it's embarrassing."
"I heard she blackmailed this boy into a relationship, who couldn't even stand to touch her, finally he broke free, his got a new girlfriend now."
"Her dress makes her look like a lobster."
"Merlin she's desperate.”
"I was talking to Davie earlier. He said her mum paid him a hundred gallons if he would ask her to dance."
They erupt in laughter at my apparent patheticness.
"Merlin, looks like Rose Weasley's on the prowl again" there attention has now shifted to Rose. Gliding angelically across the dance floor, making it look effortless. She's got every guy in the rooms attention. My circle of bachelors are practically drooling. And she has no idea.
I grab another flute and down it in one gulp. Then grab a bottle of firewhisky and manoeuvre myself out of there. Footsteps follow me. First, I thought it was my mother. Terror actually shook me. Then I smelt the wine.
"The wine and cheek wasn't enough for you?" I accuse and ascend the stairs, sloshing the bottle on my dress.
"What? Are you saying it's over? I haven't finished the tasting." He steps up beside me, grinning.
"Yes." I quicken my pace.
"Blasphemy," he matches it.
"Don't you have long legged, eager eyed, lipstick teeth to enchant?" I mutter annoyed.
"No. I happen to like lobsters," he bumps my shoulder, as we reach the landing. Other girls get beautiful. I get Lobster. Calm my beating heart.
"Why are you following me?" I turn and ask Tum (The Unidentified Male). I really should ask his name. I'm being completely un-Lucy like.
"The midnight kiss," he smirks and leans in. I notice the haziness in his eyes. Drunk. Although he still seems sober enough.
I swat his mouth away "That's New Years Eve, Romeo," and keep walking.
"Awfully long wait isn't it?"
"I don't even know your name."
"Names are unimportant. The real identification stems from my love of reindeer socks," his eyes sparkle with amusement.
I look down at my shoes and notice the slight flash of red and green, sneaking out the bottom. I had to defy my mother in some way. The terrorists will not win.
"They're symbolic," I argue with a sheepish smile.
"Oh?" he asks interested, leaning in closer. A door handle juts into my back. He has me cornered. "And what do they symbolise?" His eyes are kind with a flirtatious mischievousness, they flick to my lips. He spilt the wine on purpose. And apparently, the best pickup line he had was um, oops. I shouldn't let what they say get to me. It makes me second guess everything. I'm Lucy Weasley. They're all wrong about me.
I swallow a large gulp of firewhisky. It burns with courage. Then whisper "Freedom."
And pull his lips on mine.
High heels, bare feet, fallen curls, caked make-up, lipstick glasses and swaying bodies… a moment like this. Aunt Aubrey sure knows how to throw a masquerade. Who needs masks, when we disguise offence with polite smiles, or disgust with mild justifications and rolling eyes with gracious laughter? A flock of designer suits and handbags apparently.
“So, you're hiding out in the cloak room.”
Of course, when Rose Weasley is feeling her worst, it sends out a beacon.
“Hiding from what exactly?” I quip in reply.
“Well you missed the cake so it must be serious. Is that your coat?”
“No. I'm not hiding.”
“Sitting alone on Christmas Eve surrounded by snow dewed fur coats?”
“Strolling through a winter wonderland.”
“Here's some cake.”
“Some cake? Cake and some isn't a full sentence. It doesn't even make sense.”
“You ate the frosting.”
“So 'Thank You' not really your thing, is it?”
“You ate the frosting.”
“Just eat. It will make you smile nonetheless.”
“How much have you had to drink?” I manage around a mouthful of frosting-less cake, it’s still good. Aunt Aubrey sure has taste.
He grins, not drunk obviously, just happy.
“It'll take me a while to correlate 16 years of fluid intake.” Scorpius smirks.
“Ah. Those hazy brain cells.” I agree.
“You're distracting me.”
“Really? One for me then. Why is it snowing?” The skylight was wide open, enveloping the room in a white blanket.
“Revenge usually is. Here.” I pass him a coat.
He examines it distastefully, “It's tangerine.”
“Well this is high society? What do you expect?”
“Well... then she wouldn't be who she is. Right?” I manage to meet his eyes, but he isn’t looking at me, just the falling snow.
“She's transferring to Hogwarts.”
Now he’s looking at me. Eyes alive and questioning. I smile, “Christmas always brings about change somehow.”
“Leo too. They're moving in tomorrow.”
I look back to the falling snow. “Hogwarts does have a great Christmas feast.”
“I'm going too.”
“Dad will miss the annual Christmas chess tournament. You know you're his only competition.” There’s been a ruling that Hugo and Dad cannot play against each other, Scorpius is the next in line.
“I think that's the nicest thing you've said to me.” He laughs, then passes the jacket back to me and stands.
“I’ll see you back at school. Mum called, the Malfoy’s are hosting Christmas for the first time in years.” He informs me quite happily. I know it means a lot to him that his parents are trying.
I should be glad he bothered to say goodbye, that he came to find me. But I just feel guilt and jealousy. I made him wait and now his moving on. Now, it feels like somethings over, something is changing.
He turns to go then doubles back. “Ah. Your present I almost forgot.”
“You’re not my boyfriend remember. No present required.” I smile, hoping he can’t recognise the tears sparking in my eyes. Rose Weasley does not cry in the presence of Scorpius Malfoy.
He manages a wry grin of his own. “It will appear the day after tomorrow. No sooner or later.”
That catches me off guard. “Why?”
“It's a lonely day, don't you think? No one expects a present the day after Christmas.” Then he begins to walk away once again.
“Merry Christmas.” I call to his retreating back.
“Merry Christmas, Rose.”
Then, he was gone.
“And here I thought England wasn’t as friendly as I remember.”
“Yeah. Past me my shirt.” I shiver, the alcohol is wearing off. The atrium is dark, but alight with moonlight. I feel nauseous. I'm never drinking again. Such a lovely memory. My first time, was with an unnamed party goer at my parents Christmas party. Spoiled little rich girl: 1.
“It’s my shirt,” his brow furrows. Stop looking at the eyes. They're so distracting.
“Really? Stripes?” I mutter, hopefully disguising the fluster with frustration.
He frowns at me in annoyance. I reach for it and pull it over my head. The dress lays forgotten and discarded in the corner. Along with the empty bottle. My head pounds. He grins. Yuck.
"Have you seen my socks? Lumos" I search the cold and rather empty room.
"I'm thinking a June wedding." He ignores me, and continues to lay there, starkers talking nonsense and pissing me off.
I swear this guy could have a conversation with himself, he's that conceited. "Remember when you spilt wine on me, that was fun. Let's chat about that." I stub my toe on the writing desk. Could this night get any worse?
"We'll laugh. You'll cry. It will be a jolly time," finally he decides to pull on some clothes. What he lacks in politeness is definable on his very toned and muscular body.
"I'm sorry do you hear yourself when you talk or is it just noise?" I continue my search.
"You say the nicest things, lobster." He winks smugly. Merlin.
I glare. Then spot a slither of red fabric. My socks. I leap for them and manage to grab one, but land on the floor as the other, is commandeered by the devil himself, he has me pinned beneath him.
"It's not a glass slipper, but it will do." He winks wickedly. I close my eyes and take a breath to collect myself.
"You're not getting the shirt back." I counter. He sweeps a piece of hair behind my ear. The moonlight casts a brightness on his face, eyes are alight with mischief.
"You're unleashing me like this." He gestures quite proudly to his tight, taut bare stomach. "To a ballroom of... How did you put it earlier... Long legged, eager eyed, lipstick teeth? So, articulate by the way. I'll be eaten up in seconds."
"I've got two words for you, Grilled Cheese."
"I hold grudges."
"I'm glad to be playing on your mind, lobster."
"Oh?" I smile. He leans down, I lean up. We're so close, I grip his arms and flip us over. Grinning triumphantly "I'd be no fun if it was easy," I back away and head for the door, laughing and leave him there. I take the stairs quickly, back to my room. Luckily, we were a storey up from any party people. I don't know how I would have explained the shirt, with no pants and no dress. I smile to myself about the absurdity of it all. Lucy Weasley doesn't have sex with random strangers. She doesn't get drunk, and ditch ball gowns for grilled cheese sandwiches. She doesn't have handsome men flirt with her. I don't leap. But tonight, I did. And even though it probably wasn't my best idea, it feels good. Thrilling. Alive.
Lucy Weasley, Goddess in Lobster Red. Kind of has an appealing ring to it.
Christmas Day dawns at the burrow with a snowy blanket smelling of freshly baked mince pies, cookies and tarts. We've always spent Christmas Eve night here, as long as I can remember. In our later years, we progressed from the cramped rooms upstairs to two Tardis tents outside. One for girls, one for the boys. Vic and Teddy still participate even though they are like an old married couple, with kids now. There have been many a Christmas prank on Christmas Eve, but after the Aubrey and Percival Weasley festivities we were all weary eyed and unsteady when we all arrived late last night, or really this morning.
Thankfully the day passes with large amounts of pranks, laughter and merry. Al and Chase often disappearing. Lucy, surprisingly full of festive mayhem, leading the troops into battle. An adult’s vs kids Quidditch match umpired by G-Ma Molly. It was rough and the result will be debated for years to come. A delicious feast that was consumed with new records. Uncle George’s present time, that was received with bated breaths as Aunt Angelina hesitantly unwrapped the small box. Fred’s animated retelling of the Christmas Eve shop incident. Which heavily tried to nix Max’s new boyfriend news. And Mum’s small smile when G-ma Molly praised the Gingerbread shoe.
Christmas Day arrived and disappeared with the sun. There was mentions of the missing blonde. Apparently, the Malfoy dinner passed without incident or disappointment and all his gifts adored, except mine which didn’t appear, just like he said, until the following morning.
An odd-shaped parcel. Perfectly wrapped, with a WWW Christmas sticker on the top.
Inside, a small plant, with a peculiar-looking fruit sprouting off the green thorned stalk and a small box of fudge attached.
Roseberry Fudge exclusive to WWW. Made from the newly founded Roseberry plant.
It tasted delicious.
Other Similar Stories