Raindrops on Roses

Chapter 24: The Last Summer Part 4: And, In Paris

2024

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Rose was all for going right up to the door and knocking, but Albus had other ideas.

"You don't think he'll know who we are? Come on. He must read the papers, right? They printed our family photo from Italy, last year, and James' last birthday. And everyone says how much I look like my dad at his age. He'll know me straight off, even if it takes him a few minutes to cotton on to you."

"His dad won't open the door," Rose argued. "They have servants and things."

"You gonna risk this whole mad caper on that chance?" Al sighed. He would have been the first to admit that he was grouchy, after being woken first thing in the morning for a mad flight over the channel to France. Why they couldn't have taken the Floo was somewhat beyond him, though Rose insisted that using the Ministry-regulated Floo was a bad idea.

"You want our dads catching up to us before we even get there?" she had questioned him when he brought it up once again after they landed on the beach in Normandy for a rest. The sand was wet and the wind was up, and Al was hoping it wouldn't be too long a rest. He could feel salt water staining his socks through his shoes. He hadn't exactly dressed for the beach.

"I bet they haven't even noticed we're gone," he shot back. "They're so busy with this Shadow thing, and Mum will just assume I'm with Cleo."

"Right." The tone in that one word spoke volumes.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You don't like Cleo, do you? You never have."

"Shut up, of course I like her. She's... fine."

Albus shook his head, scattering drops of seaspray from the ends of his hair onto his glasses. He took them off and cast a cleaning spell. "You aren't angry with her for giving you that stupid CD, are you? She was just being nice."

"I know. I said thank you."

"Yeah, right before you stormed out on everyone and embarrassed yourself."

Rose's cheeks went red, and she dropped the argument, but Albus felt a little guilty about it. Rose had no reason to be jealous of Cleo now, when she was Albus' girlfriend and had no designs on her boyfriend at all. At least he hoped she didn't have designs. With Cleo it was sometimes a little hard to tell.

Being with Cleo was different to being with Lizzie. Cleo was wild, unpredictable, sometimes a little terrifying and always a little confusing. Albus had to admit that the main reason he had agreed to this mad venture was that he needed someone to talk to about her, and without Scorpius his options were limited to Rose, his parents or his brother, none of which were particularly appealing choices. Of course, he was concerned for his friend as well. It didn't bode well that they had just had that one letter, sent via Krum to Rose's mother before it even reached them. Not hearing from Scorpius on the holidays was hardly unusual, however, and it seemed to him that Rose was either worrying overmuch, or perhaps she knew something that warranted concern. If so, he was a little miffed that he wasn't in on the secret.

They mounted up again after a brief rest. It was drizzling on the beach anyway, despite the height of summer, and they took off from the wet sand with relief. Rose re-cast the disillusionment spell before they left, so that all he could make out of her beside him was a slight shimmer in the air. "Next stop Paris!" he heard her call excitedly. Below them, a group of Muggles sheltering under a picnic blanket looked up at the sound of her voice in confusion.