Chapter Ten: The Dangerous Musings of Comparisons

Ginevra Potter stood alone in her comfortable kitchen, her cheek resting contemplatively in the palm of her hand as she critically surveyed the two dozen red and yellow tulips standing erectly before her on the table top. Each one of them was like a blazing mockery of her old House colors, and she knew Draco had everything to do with the enormous bouquet proudly taking up residence in her kitchen. For goodness sakes, he’d practically had his son hand-deliver them. He did have his son hand-deliver them!

Shaking her head to herself, Ginny couldn’t help the small smile spreading across her lips. Releasing an almost wistful sigh, she allowed herself to sink back into the chair at the kitchen table, glancing fondly back at what had always been her favorite flowers.

It had taken Harry years to discover that and many blundering dates, as well. Ginny grinned, remembering that her husband had once been so certain her favorite flowers were lilies. He’d almost seemed disappointed when she informed him that wasn’t the case, but he’d easily snapped back and the next day, Ginny, three months pregnant with their first son James at the time, had found dozens of white tulips when she’d come home from putting in her maternity leave request for the Holyhead Harpies. She had been overjoyed at the sight and the proud look on Harry’s face was proof enough that he knew he’d done something very very right. It was funny how he never got the color right though, Ginny mused, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip as she reached out to stroke the vibrant red petals of the nearest tulip.

It was ridiculous how easily she could picture Draco’s seventeen year old face all those years ago when he’d caught her bookmarking pages of a bridal magazine. He’d teased her mercilessly, snatching the magazine right out of her hands and holding it high out of her reach as he pranced around their flat in Diagon Alley. He’d sneered that she couldn’t keep even her thoughts off of Harry. Exasperated by his childishness, Ginny had demanded the magazine back from him, calmly explaining that she was helping Angelina with her preparations to marry George and simply bookmarking which bouquets she had liked.

Ginny still remembered the odd look Draco had sent her before glancing back through the dog-eared pages once more, smirking slightly. He’d tossed the magazine back at her without another word and waltzed right out of the room, leaving Ginny to mutter to herself about hopelessly graceful pricks and their infuriating swagger. Ginny had easily thrown herself back into the comfy couch, sifting through the wedding images once more.

Weeks later, Ginny had all but forgotten the small incident, as there were far too many others in her daily life of living with Draco Malfoy. Her coffee was too weak, her clothes were too baggy, and then they were too showy. Everything she did was wrong in some fashion and he had never been the one to let it go. One night, Draco had been going on and on about how her part-time job had the worst hours he’d ever heard of and he was going to lose his mind if she kept leaving too early to make him breakfast in the morning. He had developed a sort of affinity for her blueberry pancakes and simply couldn’t stand being deprived of what he referred to as, ‘the only reason he kept her around’.

Having cornered her in the kitchen, he had brandished a spatula before her face with a pleading expression and just when Ginny had been about to tell him what he could do with his spatula, he suddenly threw it over his shoulder and kissed her. Everything Ginny had ever known about herself or the world had disappeared in that single instant during which her lips had met Draco’s, and nothing had ever been the same. She had finally pulled back from him, her eyes wide in fear as she remembered Harry, overcome by guilt and even horror when Draco began lightly tracing her cheek with his fingertips, smiling softly to himself.

“I wanted to try that for months now…” he’d murmured.

Ginny had been about to pull away from him, to flee before she could acknowledge her emotions rising to the surface and valiantly struggling to be released from her fast-beating heart. Her hopes to flee were dashed, though, when he’d tucked a stray strand of her scarlet hair behind her ear and pulled out an equally red tulip as if by magic.

Ginny had stared at him in wonderment and then back down at the beautiful red flower, more perfect than any she’d seen and her common sense had evaporated, left by nothing but at-the-moment thinking. She’d kissed him back. It didn’t matter that it was a simple spell, no better than a parlor trick. He’d noticed. He’d paid attention and he’d been so damn good at pulling it off too.

Now, staring thoughtfully at the bouquet sitting before her, Ginny acknowledged that that kiss had been her first mistake in her short-lived relationship with Draco Malfoy. It had been innocent and chaste but it had been the first step in tearing her heart between two men, and eventually she had had to choose. The gold wedding band on her left ring finger was proof of that.

The sound of footsteps came from down the stairs and Ginny looked up just as her husband came into view, breathing a weary sigh and running his hand through his raven black hair, looking distressed.

“That boy is back,” he murmured, leaning tiredly against the wall.

“I know.” Ginny smiled, glancing once more at the tulips before her and thinking back to Draco’s use of his son as a delivery boy.

Harry sighed once more, glancing back at the foot of the stairs with narrowed eyes. “The two of them are up there alone,” he muttered.

Ginny smirked up at Harry, trying not to roll her eyes. “They’re cleaning toilets, Harry. Neither of them is going to make a move; I can promise you that.”

Harry grinned at her, his green eyes hopeful. “You really think so?” he asked.

Grinning to herself, Ginny snatched her husband’s hand, pulling him down to take the seat next to her. “Trust me on this one, Harry. Woman’s intuition.” She pointed at her temple and winked, glancing once more at the vase in front of her, the ostentatious flowers having caught Harry’s eye as well.

“Who are these from?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Just a sympathy gift,” his wife easily lied, her expression giving away nothing. She lightly grinned at her husband’s incredulous expression, trying not to laugh. “One of the neighbors sent them after hearing of Lily’s punishment of wandless scrubbing,” she explained, her lie taking on a life of its own that she was thoroughly enjoying. Draco had taught her that. Ginny had to fight back the twinge of guilt at the thought of lying to her husband. It really was harmless, though; besides, she wasn’t sneaking around him with Draco. There just wasn’t any reason to bring up a painful reminder of the past when its son was already just upstairs. Draco was out of a different lifetime, it seemed, and there wasn’t any cause for upsetting Harry over a few flowers.

Ginny watched as Harry laid his head tiredly down on the tabletop in an expression of defeat, groaning softly under his breath, all thoughts of the tulips forgotten. “I want to wring that little rat’s neck…” he growled quietly.

Ginny shook her head in laughter, reaching forward to run her fingers through Harry’s tangled black hair, lightly scratching his scalp. “I think you’re just tired, Mr. Potter,” she dutifully informed him.

“Oh, am I, now?”

“Yes. You need something to eat.”

Harry chuckled weakly, pushing himself back up from the table and into a sitting position. “That’s always the answer for you Weasley women, isn’t it? Feed everyone and eventually even cancer will be cured.”

Ginny nodded, trying valiantly to keep a straight face.

Harry wearily rubbed his eyelids, still frowning slightly. “What do you have in mind?” he asked.

“You missed breakfast this morning…” she began almost hesitantly though her husband never caught the slight misgiving in her tone.

“Yeah? It’s long past dinner now…”

“Well, it’s been a rather long day, hectic and mostly insane,” she trailed off. “Maybe we should switch it up, keep the menu fun and all helter-skelter. Pancakes are notorious for being delicious all the time: morning, noon, or night,” she informed him, trying not to bite down on her lower lip and failing miserably.

Harry didn’t seem to notice, though, still rubbing his eyes and shrugging slightly. “Sure, why not? Still have that apple cinnamon recipe?”

Ginny felt her face fall unexpectedly. “Erm, yeah, I was sort of thinking blueberry, though. Those are always the best.”

“Mmm, I disagree.” Harry grinned, his emerald eyes shining up at her. “I’ve never had better pancakes than your apple-cinnamon ones. That would be perfect tonight after the hell today was.”

“Yeah, it would.” Ginny sighed, glancing down at the tabletop and the tulips in their vase, all seeming to droop somewhat, though it could have simply been her imagination.

“Need any help?” Harry asked.

“No, no, I’ve got everything,” Ginny quietly replied, getting out the mixing bowl and eggs, summoning the jar of cinnamon and several apples, already peeling them.

Harry stood and came over to lightly kiss Ginny’s cheek, grinning lopsidedly at her. “I’ll kick that Slytherin rat out and bring Lily and the boys down in just a few minutes, all right?”

“Alright,” Ginny agreed, her eyes never leaving the pancake batter she methodically stirred in front of her, sad memories building up behind her too-bright eyes.

As her husband left the room, presumably to go turn out Scorpius on his arse, Ginny felt tears pricking at her vision and glanced back to the tulips once more. Her fingers tightened around the wand in her hand, her stirring ceasing. Damn him, she thought, trying not to cry. Damn Draco for having always been so damn perfect and observant. For a moment, Ginny wondered if Draco would have heard the disappointment in her tone, seen the evidence of tears building in her eyes. She quickly shook herself. “Being silly,” she mumbled, swiping back at her eyes and stirring the batter once more. She turned her back on the enormous bouquet of tulips and concentrated on the pancakes instead, trying to drive any thought of Draco far from her mind before she lost it and did something rash, like tossing the tulips straight into the garbage. No, she musn’t do that. They were her favorite, after all, she conceded, gritting her teeth as she damned Draco once again for his perfectly insufferable ways even now.

*

Scorpius and Lily continued to scrub out the sinks in the upstairs bathroom. At this point, there were soapsuds everywhere, spilling over the edges of the counter and down the sides of the cabinet doors. Gritting his teeth, Scorpius continued to scrub until his fingers were raw. Really, this whole Muggle way of cleaning was entirely medieval. Glaring at a spot that refused to be scrubbed clean, Scorpius attacked the faucet with all his might, a low growl forming in the base of his throat. Beside him, Lily failed to stifle a giggle and he glared up at her, silver eyes glinting.

“Something funny?” he demanded hotly.

“Oh, no, not at all,” she lied with an expression of feigned innocence. Her lips twitched into a grin and she turned to the second sink, determinedly not looking at Scorpius though he was certainly looking at her.

Scorpius smiled in spite of himself, watching as a curtain of Lily’s vibrant red hair spilled over her shoulder as she scrubbed, getting in her way. She irritably pushed it back, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she scrubbed. Pretending to still be cleaning the faucet, Scorpius barely registered the limp way he held his own sponge, staring at Lily and thinking instead.

She and Rose were so different and so alike. The similar shade of their shockingly red hair was unnerving to say the least. Scorpius glanced down at his sponge, lost in thought. Memories of his argument with Rose still echoed in his thoughts, his head pounding with guilt and anger in equal part. He’d always known how Rose had felt about him, but he’d never once expected her to say it. She had never been the Gryffindor; she’d said it thousands of times herself. Seeing him with Lily in Diagon Alley though, seemed to have given her the necessary anger to finally confront him, and confront him she did.

When they had first turned the corner of the alley behind Flortescue’s, Scorpius lazily turned back to Rose, his face an expressionless mask. He listlessly demanded what she wanted, not caring much at all what she had to say, still irritated with her for being too cowardly to attend the party. Hadn’t he made it clear that he wanted her there? He certainly hadn’t expected for her brown eyes to flash up at him in anger and the cold hiss of her accusations.

“What the HELL are you doing with Lily, Scorpius?”

Scorpius raised a single eyebrow at her, momentarily stunned that she was being so blunt, though he concealed his surprise with indifference instead. “Eating ice-cream,” he said matter-of-factly, purposefully forcing her into saying it herself. She never would. She never had.

“What? You can’t find a house-elf to fetch your ice-cream for you? You had to go all the way to find Lily and bring her with you?” Rose demanded, her voice becoming increasingly strained.

Scorpius glared around the small alley in frustration, taking an angry step towards Rose, his furious face just inches from hers though he still towered over her. “Why don’t you just say it, Rose? Hmm? Quit pretending this is all about where I choose to eat my damn ice-cream, and just say what’s really bothering you. If you can,” he dared her, his silver eyes cold.

“You know I couldn’t come to the party,” Rose hissed, her eyes bright and threatening tears. She swallowed thickly, trying to keep a hold of herself as her voice became choked with tears. “Why are you doing this to me? You a-always go to Lily first, now. You n-never want to just spend time with me. She didn’t want to go to your stupid party, not at first, and it could have been just the two of us…”

“Of course she wanted to go!” Scorpius spat, “She actually came, didn’t she?”

“You see?” Rose demanded shrilly. “You always do this, ever since she started hanging around you! You only see what you want to see Scorpius, and you want Lily’s company! You want to make her smile and laugh, more than you do me!”

“Maybe because she isn’t afraid of who’s watching!” Scorpius hissed.

Rose took a step back, inhaling sharply. “My parents would never understand.”

“Understand what, Rose?” he demanded. “You can’t even say it yourself and I’m getting tired of waiting for it.” He swept past her, intending to leave her standing there when her words literally stopped him in his tracks.

“I like you, Scorpius.”

Rose watched, her eyes full of barely restrained tears as Scorpius slowly turned to face her, his expression one of shock. Rose took a shuddering breath, continuing. “I’ve liked you for ages and you’ve always known. You were so good and decent to me, and you never cared what our parents might think, but I-I can’t be that brave,” Rose sniffled, trying desperately not to cry. “I can’t risk what they would think. I have tried so hard to come up with something. You know I’m smart, and I’ve tried everything I can think of…”

“Except just telling them the truth,” Scorpius whispered bitterly, his chest tightening.

“Scorpius, I-I can’t…” Rose pleaded.

“And you never will.”

“So what? That’s just supposed to excuse what you’re doing with Lily?” Rose cried, gesturing to the end of the alley and in the direction of where her cousin was, out of earshot and out of sight.

“Sorry, Rose, but how is grabbing a bite with a friend, wrong? Perhaps, you should enlighten me,” Scorpius growled.

“You know what I’m talking about! You’re just mad and angry with me, so you’re running off to Lily instead. She doesn’t care about you like I do!”

“Good, maybe she won’t be such a disappointment,” he spat.

Rose glared at him, her hands balling into fists at her sides. She opened her mouth to speak but abruptly closed it, shaking her head slightly and furiously wiping at her eyes, ensuring there were no tears for her mother to see. Without a word, she stomped past him, leaving him to return to her mother. Scorpius remembered the look of confusion Lily sent his direction, but he hadn’t answered her. He had eyes only for Rose, wanting to strangle her in frustration. Then her mother had gotten involved, demanding to know what was wrong, and Rose had spat in his face with her words, injuring his pride. Scorpius still couldn’t believe how the girl who had liked him so much could just as easily turn on him. Furious and wanting to hurt her, he kissed an unsuspecting Lily and everything went to hell.

Pensively scrubbing the handle of the faucet, Scorpius felt his throat tighten. How could he and Rose have let it get this bad? And where did Lily fit into all of this? Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, Scorpius found himself staring at her lower lip, caught between her teeth as she continued to scrub. Lily glanced up at him, grinning at him slightly and returning to her cleaning once more.

Rose’s angry accusations, that he was only seeing what he wanted to see in Lily, echoed in his head. Scorpius shook his head, purposefully shaking the doubts aside. He didn’t care if he was only seeing what he wanted in Lily. He still wanted her, didn’t he? That at least was true. She was braver than Rose and he enjoyed her company. He did like making her laugh or seeing her smile and knowing it was because of him. That seemed to be enough for Rose to think he liked Lily. What if she was right?

Hastily coming to a decision, Scorpius turned to Lily, opening his mouth, which was suddenly bone dry. He swallowed. “Hey, Lils?”

There was a swift knock on the doorframe and both teenagers whipped their heads around to see Lily’s father standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowed and a slight scowl on his face. “Your mum’s making dinner, Lils.” The older man emphasized his daughter’s nickname and caught Scorpius’ eye, the Slytherin boy fighting the desire to cower in front of the dangerous looking man.

“Right. T-thanks, Dad. We’ll be down in just a sec,” Lily stammered, glancing between her friend and her father.

Harry Potter crossed his arms over his chest, raising a single eyebrow at the two of them. “Actually, I think Scorpius had better get home to his own dinner. It’s getting late, you know. Your dad might be worried.”

“I doubt it,” Scorpius muttered under his breath, but he recognized an invitation to leave when he saw it. Setting down the soap-soaked sponge, Scorpius sent Lily an awkward grimace and left the bathroom, having to carefully side-step Mr. Potter, who had not made any movement to make his exit easier. Casting one final glance back at Lily, Scorpius breathed out a weary sigh and headed down the stairs and out the front door, wondering what might have happened if Lily’s father had not knocked when he had.