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Rose Weasley hated mirrors.
She did not dislike them for the typical reasons of most prepubescent girls, who washed themselves away into obsessions for beauty they craved to possess. She did not concern herself much with that subject (much to the relief of both her father and mother).
She disliked them because she never knew what she was going to see. Who would appear in the likeness of the person who was supposed to be Rose Weasley. She is haunted by ghosts of the lives she has never lived. She is surrounded by shadows of what she is supposed to be. She is barricaded by her own fears that whatever she will be is already someone else. What she wants to be insignificant compared to what they chose to be. And even then, that anything she will do will already have been done. Her passions a repetition of someone else`s fulfilled aspirations. Her life a weak imitation of another's success. She wanted to march into the world, unconcerned of what it thought of her. She wanted to be unapologetically herself, but she had no idea what that was.
She'd laugh heartily, and toss her rugged, russet curls over her shoulder. She delved into the books she savoured like her mother, the legendary Hermione Granger. She felt the knowledge empower her. Sense her heart swell with exhilaration. She soared into the blue on her broom like the rest of her fiery, flaming cousins, drinking the freedom every last one of them sought. She defended not only the posts, but also her team from defeat, and the ones she loved from pain or external abuse. Just like her father; the loyal, brave Ron Weasley. The King. Her words fell fast, and full of passion. Like her mother, her father, Harry, Ginny, and every other aunt and uncle and cousin. But there was more to the outspokenness and stubbornness that wasn't even hers, but her family`s. There was more, and she planned on thoroughly reprimanding it for the time it had taken to show itself. When she found it. Within her. Which she sometimes doubted would ever happen.
She had been packed for weeks. Two thirds of her trunk had been stuffed with books. She had magically pressed her uniform thirty times over the course of three days. Whereas Albus slowly become more and more silent and withdrawn as September 1st approached, words leaked and gushed from Rose's mouth carelessly. She would be sitting with a random family member and realize after twenty minutes that she had been talking without break for the entire time. Most of them humored her, like Victoire and Teddy and Uncle Charlie. Others would get up and leave after thirty seconds of Rose`s incessant babble (Molly without even lifting her head from her book). Fred remarked that after 15 recitations of Miranda Goshawk's Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, she had brought all social ostracism unto herself.
Lily and Hugo were also uncharacteristically taciturn. They sullenly brooded as Rose vocalized her excitement over anything and everything. The Hogwarts Express, Sorting, classes, grounds, homework (insert snort from James), Quidditch, tea with Hagrid, and even Peeves. She promised letters as thorough as her mother's old notes, which provided them with some amount of consolation.
Rose was also internally relieved that Al would be with her. Born only three days apart, they had been closer than most siblings, sharing everything from adventures to socks to secrets (like when Al and James had accidently set fire to Sirius Black's old motorbike). But any question or remark of Hogwarts would lead Al to either a half hearted nod or a hasty change of the subject. And there were plenty of words to be said about Hogwarts.
"Before you're sorted, they make you fight a Hungarian Horntail! Tell 'em Fred!"
"No! They make you spend a night in the Chamber of Secrets…with the dead body of the Basilisk…"
"The Chamber of Secrets? Pfff… more like the Forbidden Forest! With Giant. Hairy. Spiders. Massive, bushy spiders."
"…"
"AUNT GINNY!"
They shut up very quickly. But Al had turned very pale.
But they were finally here. King's Cross. Platform 9 and ¾. Finally. After years of watching every Weasley cousin climb aboard the Hogwarts express, they were finally doing it themselves. A myriad of sounds surrounded her; mothers reprimanding, eager giggles and squeals and attempted spells gone wrong. Arguing and bickering. Owls, cats and even an occasional toad. The screech of the train upon the tracks. And of course, her mum and dad.
"See! See Hermione! I parked just fine. Just admit it- I can drive a car. I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, am an amazing driver. I passed the test without any help from magic. So there. Admit it- you were wrong. The Great Hermione Granger was wrong!"
"Ron, I didn't expect anything less from you."
"That's what you say. But I can tell- you were sure I would confound the examiner. But I didn't! Admit it- you thought I would, but I didn't!
"Ron, the fact that you keep reminding me you didn't confound the muggle examiner, when I never believed you did, makes me a little suspicious."
Ron gasped, and quickly made more assertions of his innocence Hermione probably knew weren't true. They continued ahead with Hugo, bantering and berating over nothing with smiles on their faces. Rose giggled, closing her eyes and inhaling the scents of lingering rain, smoke and her new robes. Of anticipation. After savouring the few moments of calm, she hastened after her family to the sea of ginger.
The goodbyes were always a blur. Kissing and hugging all the aunts, uncles, and the surrogate family members did not even comprehend itself in Rose's mind.
"Knock 'em dead Rosie!"
"Put all that reading and cleverness to use!"
"Make us proud!"
"Follow in your mother's footsteps!"
"Remember to follow zee rules."
"You don't need to remind her mum."
"Kick Slytherin butt on the Quidditch Pitch! Or in a duel after curfew…"
"We don't know if she'll be in Gryffindor!"
"Yes Hermione, we do."
"No dueling! Or any fighting! Or anything after curfew! Be nice to all the kids, and study hard, and-"
"Lighten up Hermione! After all, she's your daughter. She'll be fine!"
"Oh my baby! My baby's going to Hogwarts! Just yesterday she was making a petition for Gnome Rights!"
"Yeah, that's when Angelina and I were beginning to think she had inherited Ron's brains."
"Hey!"
Rose laughed and nodded and hugged. Her stomach ached with excitement. But when she reached her dad's arms, she melted. He whispered into her ear, so only she could hear him.
"We're both so proud of you. Whatever you choose to be and wherever you are." She pulled away from his warm embrace to look into the beautiful blue eyes she had inherited from him. Ron Weasley joked to keep smiles on everyone's faces and protected them from harm with every weapon he had. There was nothing that ever scared Rose when her father was with her. When he made her laugh, spun her in circles, lighting up the room with his crooked goofy grin, anything bad occurring in her life vaporized into nothing. No force of evil was powerful enough to overpower the genuine honesty and happiness Ron Weasley cradled everyone he loved in.
He leaned in, so their noses were softly brushing against each other. His eyes were glimmering with mischievous softness.
"Duel any git that thinks he can insult you, but only if you're sure you won't be caught. Be a know-it-all, especially when a teacher's there and no one can say anything against it. If a boy looks a little too friendly, just write to us pronto and Harry and I will be there to straighten him out. If that boy is Scorpius Malfoy, or Zacharias Smith Number 2, but mostly Scorpius Malfoy, we'll bring the entire Auror department with us." Rose rolled her eyes and patted his cheek.
"Will do Daddy. I'll be bringing him over for Christmas."
"I really hope you're joking." But he encircled her in another fierce hug. Her mother shoved about forty reminders into Rose's ears when she gave her final hug. And then her second final hug. And the third final hug. Rose felt a pang echo in her heart, knowing it would be some time before she would smell her mother's fragrance (cinnamon and parchment). And she would have to rely on letters to receive the advice Hermione was well-known for.
That's when she saw Scorpius Malfoy.
Cue internal dramatic gasps.
His back was raised into stiff, upright position. His face was an impenetrable mask of stone. He did not possess the same self-assured presumptuous airs her father had described in great detail. His mother was tenderly smoothing back his soft, fair hair. It was lacking the gel that was frozen against his father's hairline. Rose began noting the obscure mannerisms that deviated from what she had been raised to believe of the Malfoy family.
Like his mother and father, he seemed unaware and unconcerned of the dirty glares and he was being given by random wizards and witches passing by. Even children dressed in Hogwarts robes were sniggering and snorting at the sight of the infamous, degraded family. But his bony fists were tightly clenched against his trunk cart. His lips were pursed, stretched tight over his chiseled jawline. Rose felt that his two layers of teeth were clamped tightly together beneath the layer of chalky epidermis. A conversation was being held in hushed tones between the three. His parents appeared tense and apprehensive. They continually reached over, lightly touching different parts of his body. His shoulder. His forehead. His cheek. She couldn't catch sight of the expression in his eyes. But she wondered.
Who was Scorpius Malfoy? Did he even know himself? Was he stumbling in the mist in search of what that was, similar to Rose? Just like Al, Hugo, and every other Potter-Weasley cousin?
That's when she made her decision.
She was going to be best friends with Scorpius Malfoy.
"What are you thinking?" Al breathed timidly into her ear, once they had disconnected themselves from the line of goodbyes.
Oh, if he knew…
Rose smirked. "You'll see."