Leigh!fic- Want ≠ Need (1/1)- Scorpius Malfoy, Victoire Delacour-Weasley
Title: Want ≠ Need (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Scorpius Malfoy, Victoire Delacour-Weasley
Rating: G
Word Count: 485
Summary: Sometimes, what we want and what we need are two separate entities.
Author’s Notes: This was my first- and probably my last- foray into next generation characters. It won first place at this week's nextgen_drabble competition (and I'm still scratching my head, thinking, 'Wait, what?'). The prompt was "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you might find, you get what you need," from The Rolling Stones. Thanks to everyone who voted!
This hadn’t been what he wanted.
Ever since his first day at Hogwarts, Scorpius had been captivated by the stunning blonde beauty at the Gryffindor table. Her smile was dazzling, her laugh was like twinkling bells, and it didn’t matter that she was only one-eighth veela; she had the charm and looks of a full-blooded one. Of course, she was six years older than him and in a different House to boot, so the times he saw her were few and far between.
Victoire Delacour-Weasley. That was her name. She was a Gryffindor prefect- made Head Girl in Scorpius’ second year- with her mother’s looks and her father’s easy smile. It was a potent combination; one that turned the most sensible- if teenage boys can even be called that- of boys into blathering, drooling idiots.
He was no different. He went out of his way to put himself in her consciousness. It was no way for an heir of the Black and Malfoy lines to behave, but he was young and naïve. Perhaps, he thought, if he won her attention, then she could look past the age difference and he could win her affection.
It was of no use, though. She only had eyes for the Lupin boy- the one with the colorful hair. He remembered quite vividly how she’d laughed and blushed with her friends when, on St. Valentine’s Day, he’d sent her a plain silver necklace with a delicate rose pendant on it. It wasn’t much- Scorpius could have bought her one made of platinum and rubies- but she’d treasured it as if it were made of diamonds.
Scorpius had grown up, matriculated from Hogwarts, and set off to make his mark in the world. But he hadn’t been able to completely forget Victoire Delacour-Weasley and her bewitching smile.
It was for that reason that he was standing here today, in front of all his family and friends in the back gardens of Malfoy Manor. His dress robes were impeccably tailored, and his blonde hair was slicked back from his face in typical Malfoy fashion. Were the nerves- he refused to call them ‘butterflies’- in his stomach any less, he might have been amused at the discreet glares passing back and forth across the aisle between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.
Victoire was beautiful, ethereal as she walked down the aisle towards him, a bouquet of purple irises in her hands. His stomach did an extra flip-flop when she smiled at him, that dazzling smile that had first captivated him at age eleven.
But it was the sight of Rosie, his bride, following behind her cousin that made his breath catch in his throat. She practically radiated happiness as her father led her down the aisle, towards him- her soon-to-be husband.
She hadn’t been what he wanted, but through time and trial, he had realized that Rosie Weasley was exactly what he needed.
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Scorpius Malfoy, Victoire Delacour-Weasley
Rating: G
Word Count: 485
Summary: Sometimes, what we want and what we need are two separate entities.
Author’s Notes: This was my first- and probably my last- foray into next generation characters. It won first place at this week's nextgen_drabble competition (and I'm still scratching my head, thinking, 'Wait, what?'). The prompt was "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you might find, you get what you need," from The Rolling Stones. Thanks to everyone who voted!
This hadn’t been what he wanted.
Ever since his first day at Hogwarts, Scorpius had been captivated by the stunning blonde beauty at the Gryffindor table. Her smile was dazzling, her laugh was like twinkling bells, and it didn’t matter that she was only one-eighth veela; she had the charm and looks of a full-blooded one. Of course, she was six years older than him and in a different House to boot, so the times he saw her were few and far between.
Victoire Delacour-Weasley. That was her name. She was a Gryffindor prefect- made Head Girl in Scorpius’ second year- with her mother’s looks and her father’s easy smile. It was a potent combination; one that turned the most sensible- if teenage boys can even be called that- of boys into blathering, drooling idiots.
He was no different. He went out of his way to put himself in her consciousness. It was no way for an heir of the Black and Malfoy lines to behave, but he was young and naïve. Perhaps, he thought, if he won her attention, then she could look past the age difference and he could win her affection.
It was of no use, though. She only had eyes for the Lupin boy- the one with the colorful hair. He remembered quite vividly how she’d laughed and blushed with her friends when, on St. Valentine’s Day, he’d sent her a plain silver necklace with a delicate rose pendant on it. It wasn’t much- Scorpius could have bought her one made of platinum and rubies- but she’d treasured it as if it were made of diamonds.
Scorpius had grown up, matriculated from Hogwarts, and set off to make his mark in the world. But he hadn’t been able to completely forget Victoire Delacour-Weasley and her bewitching smile.
It was for that reason that he was standing here today, in front of all his family and friends in the back gardens of Malfoy Manor. His dress robes were impeccably tailored, and his blonde hair was slicked back from his face in typical Malfoy fashion. Were the nerves- he refused to call them ‘butterflies’- in his stomach any less, he might have been amused at the discreet glares passing back and forth across the aisle between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.
Victoire was beautiful, ethereal as she walked down the aisle towards him, a bouquet of purple irises in her hands. His stomach did an extra flip-flop when she smiled at him, that dazzling smile that had first captivated him at age eleven.
But it was the sight of Rosie, his bride, following behind her cousin that made his breath catch in his throat. She practically radiated happiness as her father led her down the aisle, towards him- her soon-to-be husband.
She hadn’t been what he wanted, but through time and trial, he had realized that Rosie Weasley was exactly what he needed.