Chapter Ten

Four Years Later

    Life was brilliant, a whirl of colour and music; faces of people Rose had known forever and new ones everyday. Art filled her walls, her ceiling and even the floor of her townhouse-the Polish bakers had been more than happy to let Rose use her house as a canvas, even had her paint a mural in their store. In four years life seemed to have filled out for Rose, blooming like a flower in spring, a garden bursting to life.

Four years since she’d left Hogwarts a heartbroken eighteen year old with no idea what she going to do.

Four years since Rose realized what she really wanted to do with her life.

Four years since she’d seen Scorpius Malfoy.

In four short years Rose had finished art school and made a name for herself-a small name, but still. She’d sold a few pieces, to wizards and witches alike and even had the honour of painting her Uncle Harry’s portrait for the ministry. Life had somehow fallen into place, the game Rose had been playing all along. A puzzle were the pieces finally fit-except for one.

Rose shook the thought away-tonight was her big night, her very first art opening. Her paintings lined the brick walls, hung for everyone to see; paintings of hands entwined and of a brook, of a hand dangling on a knee as if it were reaching for something-the corner of a smile and the tips someone’s fingers tracing another’s jaw. It was a collection of pieces –of memories- that Rose had suppressed for a long time, but finally she had let them take over and made them into something she never expected. She had taken her broken heart and spread the pain and longing and love on canvas with a paintbrush as gentle as his fingers had once been.

“Rosie!” Xenia appeared through the crowd, the same as the day she and Rose had first met. She tottered on high spiky heels, hair a bleached blonde now and wore a sort of draped backless white shirt with black leather pants-only Xenia could have pulled it off. “My god this is marvellous sugar; we are so happy for you!”

Trevor nodded enthusiastically and Sebastian’s cinnamon eyes twinkled in amusement. “I can’t believe you actually did it, Rose!” Trevor turned to his boyfriend “We can’t, can’t we Seb?”

“Yes,” said Sebastian, a laugh hiding in his voice “And we’re very proud to be your friends Rosie.”

Ears going pink, Rose ducked her head “Thanks mates, it means a lot that you would come.”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Sebastian said, holding Trevor’s hand tighter. “Right X?”

“Right!” Xenia said enthusiastically “And we are so-oohh, cocktail sausages!” with that she darted through the crowds, Sebastian and Trevor following her, shaking their heads.

From her spot against the far wall Rose could see most of her cousins and Aunts and Uncles, Albus and Leanne, Olivia and Ian, their son with a babysitter for the night. Her Grandparents studying a painting of the Burrow from a distance, covered in snow-if you looked closely you could see two figures standing together against a wall. A long time ago just thinking of that night would have made Rose fall to her knees in grief, but now she just shook her head and turned away. A lot could change in four years.

However, Rose found herself face to face with her second largest and favourite painting. It was square and held the face of a young man, jaw strong and eyes piercing even in complete shadow; people stood and stared into his black shadowy eyes and wondered what he was thinking, whether he loved or loathed the person he was looking at so intensely. A lock of blonde hair curled over his forehead, the whole painting sort of orangey yellow and black, cast in deep shadow. Rose had cried while painting it.

As Rose looked into the shadowy eyes of the man she had once loved so deeply, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Someone was watching her.

He was silent, but Rose knew he was there. He stood beside her, waiting only a moment to speak.

“Hello, Red.”

Knees going weak, Rose tried her best to keep her composure-she couldn’t break down in the middle of her own show. But his voice; how she had missed it, the way it sounded like water tumbling over pebbles in a stream-the way the word red tumbled off his tongue. “Scorpius.”

He turned a bit towards her and cocked his head. “I always said you were talented-I was right.”

“Turns out that was the only thing you were right about,” she said, a little coldly.

“Not completely true,”

Rose begged her knees not to give, for the world to stop spinning so she could focus.

“I said one day everyone would know the name Rose Weasley, and that one day I would mess up.”

“So you were right about two things; not everyone knows my name.”

“I know your name,” he said “And may I ask what the name of this painting is?”

“No.”

Scorpius smiled briefly, it playing with his lips like a wild flower in the wind; tugging ever so slightly with the smallest of movements. He looked her up and down carefully, noting how her beauty had only increased in the four years since he’d seen her up close; she wore a short strapless black dress, large red and pink roses printed on the fabric-she had on short high heeled boots covered in lace, and black diamonds sparkled in her ears. And her hair-her hair tumbled down her back like a waterfall of rubies.

But Scorpius was looking at her eyes.

They were just as he remembered, striking and vivid; blue with brown copper like flecks and oh so perceptive. He’d missed those eyes, the way they looked at him and lit up and concentrated and just gazed at the beauty in the world.

“We’ve changed, Rose.” He finally said.

“I’ve changed, you’re exactly the same.” Her voice hurt him in ways a weapon could not, and it was twice as deep.

He shrugged “On the outside maybe, but on the inside…I’ve never felt more together. Except…” he glanced at her “My puzzle is missing a very important piece.”

Shaking her head, Rose didn’t take her eyes of the painting “Check up your arse, Scorpius Malfoy.”

Chuckling lightly, Scorpius turned back to the portrait. “Already did that; four years ago. But Rose…things have changed.”

“Maybe.”

“I’ve changed.”

“I doubt that.”

They were both silent, separately viewing the painting; Scorpius felt as if he were staring into a distorted mirror. “It was an accident, you know.”

“What? Kissing that-that Slytherin skank?”

“Yes, actually.” Guilt filled Scorpius’ heart and he hung his head “I was waiting for you, and she walked by…she was wearing that perfume your Uncle sells, what was it called-”

“Allure,” said Rose in disgust. “He stopped that one a couple years back.”

“Good for him, because…because my mind was foggy, Red. I couldn’t think straight; I was under that stupid enchantment.” Turning to her, Scorpius smiled “But the enchantment can be broken with true loves kiss.”

Suppressing a smile, Rose shook her head again “Times never change, do they?”

“They do, but what I’ve always felt for you doesn’t.”

As if struggling to get the words right, or even say the, Rose didn’t dare look at him. “How do I know you won’t hurt me again?”

“Because,” he says “We’re meant to be Red. I know it, you know it…and I honestly can’t stay away anymore.”

“The painting’s name is ‘Loving Red’” she finally said, slowly “And the exhibit…it’s called-”

“Red.” He said softly “And you know I can’t help but love you Rose Weasley…my Red.”

The, slowly as if in a dream, she turned her head and looked up at him-Scorpius Malfoy could hardly believe it. Eyes blazing, Rose Weasley smiled.

A/N: So! That is the last chapter, and I'm sorta sad...I enjoyed writing this, but this is how I planned it out and here it is. There WILL be an epilogue, which I hope to do tomorrow if homework doesn't get in the way.

The pic on the side is of Rose's painting of Scorpius; really it's just a heavily edited picture (edited by moi) but still...

Question: Did you like this ending? Did it satisfy or whatever?

Rose<3