Olive knows Rose has (ex_thorns985) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-12-09 02:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | door: harry potter, draco malfoy, rose red |
Who: Draco and Rose
What: Meeting
Where: Hogsmeade
When: Monday
Rating: None
Draco was nervous now. He wasn’t really sure if Rose would come, and he probably deserved that. He had never felt so confused in his life. It was easier to be a bloody death eater and not have to feel. He had learned to shut off his feelings completely, strictly focusing on the job. There were chinks in the armour but he kept himself under control. He shoved everything else to the side in a locked place in his cold heart.
He swept a hand through his hair and pulled a cigarette out, lighting the tip with his wand. The door would open into Hogsmeade, just outside of the Three Broomsticks. Snow lightly dusted the ground, and he could see it in her hair. Rose was so much like him. They both did bad things, but they just didn’t matter. He really hadn’t had anyone treat him like that. He was always the damned one, a devil that should be in prison, but not to her.
He sat on the bench, looking down at the ground. White flakes fell on black boots and melted. Witches and wizards walked by, some staring, and others looking away. Draco had very distinct features, favoring his father. He had been in the papers enough as the youngest death eater. It was a title he would always have, even as the mark faded further in his skin. He pushed the white hair off his brow, scowling back at an older woman, thinking he probably deserved that too.
Rose had considered posting to Draco and just calling the entire outing off, but her desire to see something of an outside world that wasn't dead and cast into darkness stayed her hand. And after all, Draco had invited her, hadn't he? She had already known about Harry before he'd contacted her. If there was a problem with her visiting, then she could discuss it with Draco in person, and she'd get a glimpse of the world in the meantime, no matter how brief.
She struggled over what to wear, but in the end she decided she couldn't be Snow. Snow had become accustomed to the mundane world and all the mundane things that came with it, but she couldn't do that, not yet. She dressed in a simple white day-dress, capped sleeves and embroidered roses at the hem, and she donned an exquisite rose cloak overtop, the clasp made of platinum and rubies, something taken from the dresser in her room and likely belonging to the lady of the castle. Curls brushed until they gleamed, she crossed the threshold and let Olive take her to Draco's door. A turn of the key, and the door opened, and even Olive was interested in what the other side would bring.
Rose stepped onto the white snow without worries, a side door of the Three Broomsticks ushering her into the snow covered world of Wizarding England. She noticed Draco straight away, and she noticed the look the passing witch gave him. She frowned, her red lips cast in a pout, and she crossed the small distance and pushed the hood off her copper curls as she neared. "Is something the matter?" she asked, realizing the manner of dress here was not so different from her own home.
Draco stood when she arrived. Snowflakes fell to the shoulders of his black jacket. The blond smiled, “I didn’t think you would come. I hoped you would.” He reached out and picked up her hand, kissing it softly. He wasn’t sure if he had a right to. She had a right to pull her hand back and slap him, but he didn’t think she would.
“This is Hogsmeade,” he said lightly. “The school I went to is a short walk away. There are only witches and wizards here. There were a few weekends that we could come up here.”
He knew that he wasn’t really addressing issues the way he should, but there were questions he simply couldn’t answer yet. There were considerations now that hadn’t even been options in his past, and unlike the blond lad he had been, the man didn’t want to hurt anyone. He did care.
She smiled when he kissed her hand, worry melting away to leave only coquettish girlishness behind. "I don't think your friend liked it very much, me coming here," she said simply, boiling the entire situation with Harry down to that. "But if you don't want me to go, I'll stay," she offered, not pulling her hand back and slapping him at all. As long as he was honest with her, she could handle anything he said or thought, and she didn't think there had been any lies since their conversation about always speaking the truth with one another. She didn't trust men, as a rule. She trusted handsome ones, like him, even less. But she thought they understood each other, and that counted for something in her eyes.
She stepped away, and she dragged a fine, kidskin shoe over the snow with a smile that brightened with every bit of pure, white snow that was pushed aside. She watched the progress of her foot, the mark it left as she dragged it back, and she looked back up at him, her smile wickedly bright. "Show me everything," she said genuinely, excited by the prospect.
“Brilliant,” he smiled charmingly at Rose. In spite of all the confusion, he wanted this day. “First things first, we must visit Honeydukes. It’s a candy store, with the finest of wizarding candies, including chocolate frogs.” Everyone was simply mad for chocolate frogs. He favored licorice wands and the occasional Blood Pop in his earlier years, but who could resist a frog that jumped in your hands made of chocolate?
His eyes sparkled, looking light under the brightness of the snow. They were almost clear, instead of their natural gray. He was also happy, which added to the effect. Draco’s emotions were written in his eyes. The color shifted from the light diamonds they were not to cool steel when he was plotting, or pure ice when angry. He intended the day to be fun, and he wasn’t going to hold back.
“Right now, we are actually in Scotland, but we will be heading out to London for a quidditch match.” He knew he should apologize for hurting her, and he knew that he had, but bringing up the topic was hard enough, especially when he really didn’t have any answers for her. Nothing seemed to make sense. Even when he was a death eater, his life was scary, but it made sense. Emotions were not involved though, save fear and tension. The rest had been locked away, unacknowledged until now.
Rose had learned, long ago, not to think too far in advance. Hadn't Snow taught her that? Snow had thought her future all planned out, only to have it all go wrong. Rose didn't plan, not even like wild flowers that regrew with each season. She lived in the moment, and who knew what tomorrow might bring? Right now, she only knew that she was here, and the sun was up, and this place didn't look so very different from home. "Chocolate frogs?" she asked, freckles and her nose crinkling up with confusion. "Are they magic?" she asked immediately after, sliding an arm through his and pressing herself warmly to his side with no hesitation or uncertainty. Rose had never, not in her entire life, been uncertain about anything. She leapt without looking, always.
Scotland and London, the places made as little sense to her as quidditch did, but she saw the sign for the place he'd mentioned - Honeydukes - and she tugged on his arm. She wanted to move, to run, to fly. She settled for excitedly moving ahead once they'd taken a few steps. She stopped partway, beside a patch of dead brambles, snow covered and nothing but sticks in the winter cold. She touched a finger to the tip of one dead bit of twig, and she smiled as the thing bloomed to life. There was more magic here than at home. At home, she could barely coax movement out of the Beast's flowers, but here the entire rose bush shook and budded as she watched. She looked over her shoulder, realizing she'd lost track of Draco in her eagerness.
Draco caught up in a few long strides, not quite winded. Slytherins didn’t really run, but strode purposefully. That was all arrogant rubbish, of course, but he wasn’t in school anymore. He could afford moments of frivolity. He actually wanted that. Catching her at the flowers, he reached for her arm. “If you think that is something, come on then,” he said, putting gardens on his mental list of things to visit.
He walked her to the door of Honeydukes. The smell hit instantly, complimenting a bright, magical atmosphere. Treats lined the walls, and some flew, quite literally, around the room. Witches and wizards packed bags of treats. “Choose anything you want, and as much as you want, even Bertie Botts. I just don’t want any pumpkin juice.” He cringed a little thinking of that horrible concoction that was a staple at Hogwarts for years. He refused to touch it after he had left school. Instead, he picked up some Fizzing Whizzbees. “These are on my list.”
She let him take her arm, and she didn't put up a fuss when he led her away from the flowers. There was so much to see and so much to do, and he knew it all best. She glanced over at him as they walked through the strange doors of the new establishment, and her expression was all awe, all wonder. Outside, this place might resemble home with its stone and snow and traditional robes, but the inside of the store was nothing like that at all. She turned in a circle, letting go of his arm as she tried to follow the items flying around with her gaze. She felt young again, and she hadn't in years, despite still being so. She gave him another look, one that was all bright smiles, before stepping into the center of the shop and trying to decide what to look at first. She had no idea, none at all, and she looked back at him when he picked up the Fizzing Whizzbees. "What are they?" she asked, impressively sedate, give all the wonderment that was still plainly depicted on her face. "What's a Bertie Botts?"
She returned to him then, a few feet, and she placed a kiss on his cheek, then on his mouth. "This is amazing," she said, unconcerned about who was watching them. Rose had never feared making a scene.
Draco hadn’t been that excited about Honeydukes since his first trip as a young lad. He could remember the first trip and all the sights and smells. He had gotten loads of sweets that day. The second time, his father had insisted that now he must act like a Malfoy, not run amok with the lower class. He would behave like he owned the store, as he always should.
Rose’s excitement brought him back to the time when it was new. The kiss caught him off guard, but he responded. “This is magic, at least the best part of my world.” He leaned down and kissed her again, reaching straight up quickly with his left hand. There was a smug look in his eyes as he opened his hand. “At least I am getting something out of my quidditch skills.” The chocolate frog wasn’t too pleased to be caught, but Draco was not letting go.
She didn't realize what he meant at all, too lost in the kiss. It had been such a long time, really. It took her a moment to realize he'd moved anything at all. But she did eventually, and she moved back in a sway of skirts and tipped her head back, copper hair tumbling along the back of the cloak as she tried to understand what wonder he had caught in his hand. She grinned once she saw the frog there. So strange, and she wondered if there was any woodland magic involved. But she did not believe so, did not believe this was a cursed real frog, as would be the case in her world. "Does it stop squirming to get away when it's bitten?" she asked, and then she laughed at the question. Snow would say that was just like her, wanting to bite the heads off frogs. "Can I try?" she asked, holding out her hands for the frog he held.
Draco handed the frog to Rose. It squirmed a bit in her hand. “It isn’t really alive. It’s just a charm to make it move. It’s like a puppet that the mundanes play with. Taste it. It’s just chocolate.” His hand stroked her hair, soft and silky. He was becoming more confused, but he wasn’t about to put it to that much thought right now. He was having fun.
He pulled out his wand and swished it a little. The frog elevated, and then did a rather graceful flip in the air before landing back in her hand. “It goes something like that.” He handed her a flower made of sugar, using his wand to open it, just like one in bloom. The granules of sugar reflected the light of the room. “The girls at school used to go positively mad for these. They brought loads back to school. You eat the petals.” He handed Rose the flower. He had never given one to any of the girls at school, even Pansy. “Now let’s buy out the store and go flying.”
She laughed as he made the frog flip in her palm, her cheeks blush red from when his hand had stroked her hair. She did as he suggested, and she picked the frog up and took a bite, eyes closed at first, just in case it wasn't all chocolate. But it was, and she opened her eyes as she licked her fingers clean. "That as delicious," she said, and she meant it. One of the things about living in a cursed castle in the center of a dead wood, was that the animals weren't plentiful for food. The Beast would hunt, but it wasn't for anything decadent, and there certainly wasn't any chocolate to be had.
She wasn't expecting the rose, which seemed like such a delicate thing and such a romantic offering, and she gave him another kiss in thanks. "Thank you," she said, twirling it around in her fingers, then tugging one of the petals off carefully and sucking it between her ample lips in a way that wasn't entirely innocent. She gave up the game when he suggested flying, because she very much wanted to be on his broom, on the air, outside where it was daylight, and where everything wasn't dead. "I'd love to, but you can't carry everything on your broom," she said practically, glancing around at everything in the store and wondering if there was magic to make everything very, very small.
Those lips were making him speechless, bringing back those things he had long denied himself. It would have distracted him far too much in the last years, and in his own depression, he really hadn’t been interested. Those days were gone. He didn’t live, wondering when he would be summoned to a room that he would never walk out of. He could feel something that he could only define as desire creeping over his senses. He picked up her hand that held the petal and took a bite, licking the sugar off his lips. His crystal eyes stayed on hers.
“Alright then,” he said, finally breaking after a long moment. “I can carry a lot.” He handed her a bag from the display. “Fill this with whatever you want. I mean anything, in large quantities.” He smiled and picked up a bag for himself and began filling it with as many treats as possible. “Be careful of these,” he said, looking at the Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans rack again. “When they say every flavor, they mean it, including dirt, earwax, and earthworm.” He wasn’t going to mention the vomit flavor. That was best left for enemies, even though everyone had eaten one accidentally at one time or another.
She didn't blush when his gaze stayed locked with hers. Instead, she just smiled a little more, invitation in it. Despite the fact that unmarried women didn't have sex, not in her world, Rose had broken that rule stupendously. She might be young, but she wasn't innocent. She could pretend to be, but she didn't see the point in being false, not to him, not when they'd been nothing but honest with one another. She felt a momentary pang of guilt for her falsehood with the Beast, the lie she'd asked of Snow to come here, but she brushed that worry aside. It would keep for another day.
She crinkled her nose at the mention of just how "every flavor" Bertie Botts was. She was careful with those, picking colors that she thought seemed harmless, and avoiding anything questionable as she filled her bag. She added a few frogs, thinking the Beast and Snow might like them, and she grabbed every other creative thing she could find - Fizzing Whizzbees, and Ice Mice and countless Sugar Quills. Once her bag was filled, she held it out to him. She had no idea what was used for currency here, and she had none, regardless. "Thank you," she told him in advance. She wasn't opposed to him paying; feminism hadn't quite made it to the fairy tale world yet.
Draco just smiled, not asking for a sickle. While he liked gifts, he also liked spending the galleons in his family vaults. Like most of the wealthy wizards, they did enjoy showing off a fair bit. He set the gold coins down, paying in full for their treats. He handed Rose the bag and offered his arm.
Once outside, he took the bags, tapping his wand against them. They promptly shrank enough so that they could fit comfortably in his larger bag. He smiled impishly and reached for her hand again. “Accio broom,” he said, holding a hand out to the side of the doorway. A broom moved on it’s own, flying towards Draco easily.
His eyes stayed on hers as he mounted the broom. He motioned to the spot in front of him, arching his brows. “My lady, come fly with me.”