The Red Rose That Has Green Thorns

Head reeling, I finally understood what my visions had been about, and my stomach lurched. I hid my reactions from Scorpius and the rest of the champions as well as I could, my heart thumping painfully against my chest. I saw everything around me in a new light, as cliché as it may sound. I had to think of everything differently if this would be the last time I ever saw any of these people again. And what if just moments earlier had been the last time I’d ever see the rest of my family again?

It felt as thought a gigantic hand was squeezing my heart, trying to make it burst. I wanted to cry out, grab on to Scorpius, and tell him all that I’d hidden from him about my visions, but I just couldn’t.

I didn’t want to hurt him like that.

And so I did my best to act normally, or as normally as a champion whose nerves were kicking in could, and went to perch on one of the several conveniently placed stools. Scorpius drew one of the other stools nearer and sat, smiling with trace amounts of nervousness. Someone who didn’t know him as well as I did, or even as well as Al did, would never have known that he was nervous. His Malfoy genes helped him to exude a calm aura in the face of the unknown task that lie ahead, and someone who didn’t know him would never have known it.

I couldn’t help but wonder if there was anyone else who would get to know him as well as I, in the event that something did happen and…

But I wouldn’t dwell on it. Tonight would be his victory; I would do anything to make sure of it. I loved Andy like a sister, it’s true, and I wouldn’t mind seeing her win…but if something were to happen to me, I’d want Scorpius to at least come out of it all with a victory under his belt. Not that he needed the money, for although a large portion of the Malfoy fortune had been seized, there was still plenty for him to inherit and stay pretty much filthy rich, but perhaps if I helped him to a win he would remember me.

“Rose,” he said, and for a few seconds I feared that he had caught on to my inner struggle. He wasn’t looking at me, though, but at the other two teams, who were busy conferring. “Do we have some sort of strategy?”

“How can we have one when we’re not sure about what it is that we’ll be doing, exactly?” I quipped, an attempt at playfulness. He chuckled and linked our fingers together.

“We can at least go over a few different spells, or jinxes, or charms or something, right? Maybe some defensive things. Anything that we read that might be useful to us in whatever we’ll be doing. Right?

As always, I thought, but outwardly I smiled and said, “Of course!”

*

We talked to each other for the half an hour longer it took our judges to make their way down, and then we fell silent, looking attentively at my Uncle Percy as he prepared to give his instructions. Or whatever it was he was preparing to say, because it was obvious he wanted to say something.

“The task will start promptly at noon,” Uncle Percy said then, starting what I knew was going to be a semi-long-winded lecture, “but we called you out here earlier for a few instructions. Firstly, you’ll find this a rather straight-forward task. You will start out on opposite ends from your partner. There are several acres to traverse in the area. Your goal will be to meet up with your partner at some point during the obstacle and make your way to the center of the plot, where a maze awaits you. Much like the last tournament, the Triwizard Cup rests in the middle, but unlike last time it is not a portkey.”

He let that last sentence hang awhile, an ominous reminder that a champion had died during this, the third and last task of the tournament, roughly 29 years ago.

“Aside from that, many challenges await you both within the maze and without,” Gwen jumped in after an appropriate, respectful silence. “Perhaps the least of which are the creatures that you have already faced, like the acromantualas. It is safe for you to assume that this is the hardest of the tasks yet. It must be; it is designed to challenge your team and push you to your limits as young witches and wizards. Only the quickest thinkers and promptest actions can win it all.”

“We advise that you take this time,” Uncle Percy came back in, with a glance at the headmasters, “to prepare. Go and practice spells and hexes and jinxes, whatever you see fit. Work out strategies. Make sure that you’re ready for whatever is thrown at you. And don’t forget to eat a good lunch. In fact, I suggest you eat at eleven and be back here by eleven thirty for a few more instructions. Am I clear?”

There was a murmur of assent that rolled through the tent and we were dismissed promptly at about ten o’clock. It gave us an hour to go and make a few plans and practice spells and whatnot before going to eat.

“Let’s go back to our common room,” Scorpius suggested, and I nodded as we ducked out of the tent. I walked on Scorpius’ right, purposely keeping my eyes diverted from this entrance to the area of the task and wanting nothing more than to curl up beneath the covers in my bed and forfeit. I couldn’t do that to Scorpius, and to my family. I didn’t even know if the vision was true; the future was a volatile thing, after all. Always changing. Perhaps this was one of those times that it would change for the better, and none of what I had Seen would come true.

I squeezed his hand tighter when I realized that they were intertwined, and smiled up at him when he looked down at me. I leaned into him as we walked, getting as close to him as I could before the uncertain future came to swallow me. In the event that the future didn’t change in my favor, I wanted him to remember us like this.

Scorpius, I knew, was smart. He’d understand that there was something strange going through my mind, even if he didn’t press me for the details. He gave me my space when he thought I needed it, even when I should have told him whatever it was that was plaguing me. It reminded me of small things I’d kept from him, and even of the other visions I’d kept to myself, and it made me feel sick to my stomach.

I should tell him, I realized, but I won’t.

*

I accidentally blew up one of our armchairs as we practiced, testing a spell that for some reason had no instruction with it. It was a good thing neither of us were within the blasting range.

“Well…that could come in handy, I suppose,” said Scorpius as we shared a glance. He waved his wand and nonverbally cast the spell to return the chair to its normal state and I took a glance at my watch.

“Hey, Scorp, we should go down to dinner now,” I said, tapping my watch. He looked at his own and his eyes widened.

“It’s that time already?”

I chuckled a little, and the nervousness that I’d managed to shake for the fifteen minutes we’d used for strategizing and the forty-five we’d used to practice began to come back. As if taunting me, when I looked at Scorpius I once again saw the vague image of a prone form in his arms, and once more it dawned on me. But I pushed that thought aside, unwilling to believe it for the time being.

It was our day, I told myself.

If only I could bring myself to believe it, maybe everything would be better.