Name Game (completed)

Chapter Twenty

"Yes." She buried her face in his neck, trying to avoid looking at the black-clad figures that could be seen from the the high arched window they stood beside, becoming more defined as they grew closer to Rose and Scorpius' location.

"Don't Thorn."

"Don't what?"

" Cry." He caught a single iridescent tear on the tip of his little finger and held it out to her, so she could see it, "It just makes things worse. Much, much worse. So don't do it. Stop crying. Please? I don't think I can bear it."

Rose brushed her hand roughly over her cheeks, and seemed surprised when it came away wet. She hadn't been aware of the tears, eking out shining tracks along her face. It didn't make much difference to her but she didn't want to make Scorpius uncomfortable. Summoning all her strength she managed to stem the flow. It felt so odd to stand and await her death, held in the boundaries of Scorpius' strong arms.

"Aren't we even going to try to fight them?"

Scorpius smiled at the flare of Weasley temper he had just witnessed. Despite his pacifist tendencies, he found Rose's fury irrationally amusing. She looked so beautiful when she was angry, her her flying and her eyes shining brightly in her pale face. Perhaps...

"You can if you want."

"I might..." Rose contemplated the situation. "I hate waiting. It gives me so much time to get upset, or panicked, or frightened."

"I didn't know the Weasley's were famed for their impatience as well as their temper. You learn something knew everyday."

"There not." Rose looked up at him as she spoke. "But you've been my best friend for almost six years. Surely you've noticed."

"I have." Gazing down at her, he felt his blood flood with passion. Stooping slightly, for he was taller than her by several inches, he kissed her, gently but insistently, pouring all of his love and pain and fear into the action. She kissed him back, tentatively at first, but as it continued she became more and more ardent. He felt as though he had literally been swept off his feet, as though he were floating through the skies in a heavenly dance. He could have sworn that he could smell her passion, and it smelt rich and amorous and enticing. He lips tasted of roses, ironically enough, romantic and stimulating. He could see her, see her face in such detail. He could have counted every freckle on her cheekbones, traced the elegant, charming curve of her retrousse nose. He felt aroused and concupiscent. She was irresistibly sensual, he desired her more than he could ever remember. And then she was gone, pulling away, and the floating sensation was gone. He was falling descending into the dark, deep blackness of his nightmares.

"Rose? Rose, wake up." Rose registered the words vacantly in her mind. They sounded familiar. Scorpius had said them earlier that day, hadn't he? But this voice was different, the tone was more gentle, less pressured. She opened her eyes. She was in her bedroom at home. Her favourite pile of fictional books lay in a neat heap on her bedroom table. Her toy dragon that she'd had since birth was tucked up beside her, puffing out red and gold sparks half-heartedly.

"Rose!" Hugo flung himself upon her drawing her into the closest hug he could give.

"Hugo..." His father warned, "You're still recovering, remember? Don't overstrain yourself."

"Your alive?" Rose questioned, uncertainly, gazing at her little brother with doubtful azure eyes.

"Yup." Hugo grinned. "So are you." He added as an afterthought.

"Yes." Rose laughed. She looked past her brother at her parents. Her mother rushed forward the moment Hugo had released his older sister.

"Rose, darling! You have no idea how worried we were. If it hadn't been for the Malfoys and Harry's help, we'd never have found you!"