Name Game (completed)

Chapter Sixteen

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so admittedly some of this is quite ambitious, and I'm not entirely convinced that I managed to pull it off. Still, I am looking to expand my writing style into the realms of the more adventurous, so even if I did fail this time around, it is good practise for the future. Dedicated to XxDaughterofWarxX as an early birthday present. It is a pretty hopeless birthday present, but hopefully she will except my humble gift. 

DISCLAIMER: I am not JK Rowling, nor am I in anyway associated with her. I am merely a deranged fan on the brink of insanity, with nothing better to do with my time that write cr*p fanfictions.

"Rose, come on! Please?" Scorpius tugged frantically at her arm, but it was useless. She was standing still as a statue, a look of surprise frozen on her face. "Rose...?"

The black-clad, masked figures were beginning to descend from amid the emerald aura. He needed to her out before... something happened. Taking a firm grip of her bare arm, Scorpius attempted to forcefully steer her form the Great Hall. Rose co-operated at first, following him blindly, but then she began to struggle.

"Rose," He pleaded, "We need to get out of here."

"No!" Her voice was high-pitched with terror, but still steady. "No. We don't need to do anything. You need to save yourself, and..." She looked up at him with dark blue eyes, so strikingly beautiful that, even in such a moment of fear and anxiety, they still did not fail to take his breath away. "...and I sincerely hope that you get away unharmed. I, meanwhile, have to ensure the safety of my family."

"Rose, please. Listen to sense. You can't just go tearing off to look for all your cousins and Hugo. You're daughter of two highly prominent war heros. These people aren't just going to ignore you. Please, Rose? You're family members aren't stupid, they'll take care of themselves."

The next thing he knew, Rose had jerked her arm out of his grasp, slapped him across the cheek and sprinted off into the crowd. The force of her blow sent him reeling backwards and momentarily dazed him, but as soon as he had regained his senses he was  chasing after her. The crowd engulfed him; the scent of overly applied perfume mingled with perspiration, the rustle of long skirts as the girls stumbled hopelessly about in their ball-dresses... Everywhere he turned he was confronted by fear in vast quantities. Rainbow-coloured sparks shot from the tips of the intruders wands, creating a multitude of venomous fireworks. The frightened atmosphere was contagious; he began to panic. Where was Rose? A host of ghastly scenarios invaded his mind, contaminating his every attempt at calm, logical thinking. Rose, Rose, Rose... His thoughts descended into a pit of turmoil; that one name repeated again and again for what seemed like an eternity. Rose.

And then she was there, in a whirl of grey skirts and flaming hair. He followed her; diving still deeper into the ocean of people, trying to keep sight of her at all times. What if it's not her? A voice in the back of his mind murmured, somehow clear above the raucous din. What if it's someone else, what if it's a hoax, designed to trick you? But he pushed his doubts aside. It had to be her, it simply had to be.

Then the girl he was following, who was almost certainly Rose, stopped in her tracks, almost tripping over her long-skirted gown.

"Hugo...?" He heard her whisper, as though in some sort of trance.

And then she began to scream.

***

They were soaring through the velvety heavens on Scorpius' modified Silver Arrow. For once, Rose did not complain that flying made her feel nauseous. She didn't seem to care any more; not about the broom, nor anything else. Her hysterical sobs had quietened, but tears still poured down her pale cheeks in minuscule, yet ceaseless, waterfalls.