Name Game (completed)

Chapter Fifteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Well, I’m not exactly please with this chapter, but I worked really hard on it, so let’s hope it’s not too bad. This is the third version of it that I wrote by the way; so just bear in mind the work that went into it.

DISCLAIMER: Right, so I realised that although I’ve been saying JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I’ve never actually denied being JK Rowling. So, let’s get this straight. I am not JK Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter. Sorted?

Scorpius waited nervously by the entrance to the Great Hall, awaiting her arrival. She slightly late – the music had started up a few moments ago. He watched with increasing anxiety as Louis greeted Rebecca, resplendent in her figure-hugging, red and black bandage dress. Louis grinned at Scorpius, and indicated that he should look behind him. Turning, Scorpius saw, to his great pleasure and relief, Rose standing patiently in the entrance.

“You look lovely.” He shyly offered her his arm, afraid that she would think him overly formal. To his intense delight, she took it.

“Thank you.”

“So, do you know which band is playing?” He asked her; suddenly awkward in the presence of a girl he’d known for half a decade.

“Amortentia Angels.” Rose sighed. She was a little disappointed; having hoped her mother would consult her in the matter of entertainment. But Hermione had gone to Lily instead, and there was no music Lily enjoyed more than that of the pink-clad girl group. “Lily chose. But it’s better than if mum had asked James or Fred – we’d have ended up with the Weird Sisters!”

“Aren’t the Weird Sisters classified as vintage, or something by now? I mean, they played at the Yule Ball our parents went to!”

Rose collapsed into a helpless grin.

“Don’t let James or Fred hear you say that. They think the Weird Sisters are the coolest thing since broomsticks!”

“Do you… do you want to dance?” He asked her nervously, as they stepped onto the dance floor, surrounded by twirling couples.

She nodded, and he drew her closer to him steering her less than expertly about the dimly lit room. She was tense at first, her slim body resisting the music, but as the singer’s voices softened around them into low drone, he felt her relax in his arms and allow her body drift naturally to the rhythm of the music.

He glanced down at her narrow form, leaning partly against him. She looked so beautiful, her hair glowing dark amber in the soft pink light, magically cast from the ceiling. It fell upon her dress too, making the dove grey silk shimmer, fluid with her movements. It was the perfect opportunity… Could he? It wasn’t like it was the first time… although it felt even more awkward. Perhaps if he got her drunk this time, it might be… easier? He automatically looked over at the refreshments table, before he recalled Hermione’s policy on non-alcoholic beverages only.

I have to kiss her.

It wasn’t even out of choice, although he would never miss a simple opportunity to kiss Rose. It was expected; he had taken her to the S.P.E.W Ball, “social event of the year”, and kiss was more a guarantee than promise.

The music changed to a gentler song; slower in tempo, quieter in dynamics. As they adjusted their movements to fit in with it, Scorpius found himself gazing down, enraptured, at the girl he held in her arms. Her lids were downcast, her lips parted the minutest of fractions. It was as though she was asking for  – no – begging for him to kiss her. And this there was no need to muster his courage, it was completely unnecessary, because he did next came so easily, it seemed as though it must have been a natural reflex.

He stooped to kiss her, and as he did so, fireworks exploded behind his eyes, and he shut them allowing himself to be swept in tornado of passion. And Rose, on the receiving end, felt herself whirling into the same world, a private whirl-wind where it was just them.

It was the shrieks of the other students that brought them back down to the dance floor. When they opened their eyes at last, the room had been plunged into darkness, and a frantic frenzy of surprise and, what at the time seemed like unnecessary, panic. The lights came back on with remarkable speed, but the romantic, hazy twilight of pinks and purples had been a replaced by a glaring, garish green, that etched on the hastily evacuated dance-floor, the shape of a skull with a serpent twisting out from its mouth.

And that is when the pandemonium began.