Epilogue pt. 2 - Scorpius

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After the happy couple returns from their honeymoon, it is always Brandon who drops Willow off and picks her up from my place. I let him do this, because he offers to and it saves me a trip. And maybe, just maybe, because I am avoiding Rose.

No, I'm not. Not really. I'm just... taking the least difficult path, for awhile. In hopes that when I do see her, nothing will have changed. But I'm afraid that is too much to ask for.

I had a moment of weakness, that day at the wedding. I let my mask slip. And, worse, I let Rose see it. And now... now I don't know what to do. I don't know if anything I can say will fix it. So I avoid her, until I can't anymore.

December. Almost six months exactly since the wedding. Celia is still in America; her sister is very close to death. Celia. My girlfriend. Who I was- who I am going to propose to. Celia. Who I love. Yes, I do, I love her. Maybe not with every corner of my soul, but still. I love her. I have never lied to her; she knows that a piece of my heart will always belong to Rose. She loves me in spite of that, and I really do believe we will be happy. I wish she was here with me; I wish we could spend the holidays in that glorious trance that lovers so often do. But she will not be with me for Christmas.

The Fawleys - I still have trouble thinking of Rose as anything other than a Weasley, but I've adapted, I suppose - hear from Willow that I am planning to spend the holiday alone, and decide that they absolutely will not allow it. I receive an invitation, verbally relayed by Brandon when he picks up Willow one evening, to spend Christmas day with them.

I cordially decline. I say it is their first Christmas together as husband and wife; I wouldn't dream of intruding. Brandon laughs this off; reminds me they have spent Christmases together before and this one is no different. Willow pleads with me to accept. Still, I refuse, telling them I may go to stay with my father. They leave, disappointed.

I watch them go, wishing I had said yes, but knowing that it was unthinkable. Not because of the reasons I'd stated, but at the same time also very much because of them. Brandon and Rose. Husband and Wife. Willow. More their daughter than mine. I would only be an unwanted addition to that family. I don't need to go there to know it. Things are not the same, though Brandon would have me think they are. Things will never, ever be the same.

So I have just made up my mind to go stay at the Manor, where my father is living with no one but the house elves, when an owl lands on my windowsill. I don't recognize it, but slide open the window and let it in. I take the letter it carries, then let the animal go. It couldn't be anything urgent, and even if it is, I've got my own owl.

I tear open the envelope, and find a neatly folded sheet of delicate notepaper, the kind of stuff my mother adored. I catch a whiff of fragrance, and freeze, because I recognize the scent - it is the scent of Rose. My hands suddenly feel clammy, and I wonder if she has decided she must confront me about the truth. I unfold the sheet slowly, uncertainly. It reads as follows:

Scorpius,

Brandon and Willow have related your reasons for declining to join us for Christmas, and I find them decidedly lackluster attempts at escaping. If it is uncertainty about Brandon's liking for you that keeps you away, I beg you to put it out of your mind. He likes you more than he lets on. If there is, as I suspect, another thing hindering you, I ask you as a dear friend not to worry yourself over nothing. We would very much like to have you here with us, and unless you respond with an absolute negative there will be a place for you at our table on the 25th. Please consider it, Scorpius. For me.

Sincerely,

Rose Fawley

I let out a sigh, depositing the letter on my desk. I don't quite know what to make of it. The tone isn't annoyed; really it's almost teasing. It's not an order; there's no threat. It is, to all appearances, an upfront and honest request. But she's sending such mixed signals... the plea 'as a dear friend'; the way she says 'for me'; these things breathe familiarity. But the overall wording is formal, concluded with 'sincerely' rather than something more personal and signed with her married name rather than just 'Rose.' What is she trying to do?

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