'When it's all said and done, only you can know your story; don't let others tell you who you are.'

Part I.

I don't remember when I first became curious about Rose Weasley. Before, it was as if she existed and I existed and that was it. We had never had a conversation, never been partners for class, and never even officially met. In fact, up until fourth year, I probably wouldn't even have been able to pick her out of a crowd; I didn't even know she was in my year. If someone asked me who she was I would have said something along the lines of, 'you can't expect me to be able to extinguish the large amount of Weasley's from each other.' There were hundreds of students at Hogwarts, what was one singular person compared to the masses?

But that's how I was; I didn't really care about other students other than a few in my house. I distanced myself from anything to do with the Potter's and Weasley's and most of the Hogwarts population. Everyone seemed to scorn me in my first few years at Hogwarts; I even had a few hexes thrown at me by random passersby's. It seemed like nobody liked me. I spent lots of time alone outside in spring and autumn to avoid the students. I always stared at the castle, I loved looking at it when I was outside by myself. It seemed like every time I looked I noticed something different and I was entranced by it.

I felt that the Weasley's and Potters had probably thrown the odd hex or two at me just because of my last name. My dad always tried to keep me open minded when I was younger, and to treat people with respect but when nobody treated me with respect I felt that they didn't deserve it back. I would act haughty and I sometimes said cutting remarks to people I didn't like or trust; which sadly happened to be the majority of the students. I didn't even really trust the people I occasionally hung out with - the few people that accepted me into their circle. They always did or said things that, even though I wasn't the nicest person, I would never say or do. They were what I had though and so I stuck with them. Students didn't seek to make connections with me purely based on my last name. That was how the first three years of Hogwarts went.

I don't remember when I started to become curious about Rose Weasley, but I do remember when I first became aware of her. The brief encounter we had in fourth year was the first time I was face to face with Rose Weasley. I hadn't really been paying attention to what I was doing; I was staring at an intricate carving in the stonework of the ceiling and walked right into a student younger than me.

The papers he was carrying immediately fell all over the floor and his book bag slammed into my shin. I started hopping around, painfully holding my leg and cursing at the boy, calling him a clumsy fool and a lack-wit. He just kept repeating 'sorry' while he started to pick everything up. That's when Rose Weasley came swooping in, though I didn't know her at that time. En route to class, she noticed the commotion and came to the young boy's aid.

Together they picked up all the papers while I kept holding my leg and swearing at the boy. Then she looked at me and angrily said, 'if you're leg really hurts that badly from a book bag maybe you should do something useful with yourself and go to the hospital wing to get a band-aid instead of just standing there.'

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. Who was this– this nameless chit who dared speak to me that way? Needless to say I was affronted but couldn't say anything back; my tongue seemed to be frozen. She stood up and I noticed she was my exact height. That was intimidating in itself; especially because she looked me right in the eyes. Most people didn't like to look me in the eyes.

She continued. 'It was simply an accident. Don't call anyone names, they do more damage than you would ever think.'

With that, she walked away without looking back. The boy left immediately after, clutching his book bag like I would steal it from him any second. He didn't look back either.

Later that day in our Transfiguration class, I noticed the girl with the short red hair and paid close attention to her. Who the hell was she? She sat near the back of the class beside a girl with black curly hair. Of course I couldn't look at her very long because I was near the front. However, I did learn one interesting thing about her: her name was Rose Weasley.

To say that I became interested in her after that would be a lie. Knowing that she was a Weasley I didn't want anything to do with her. I wished I hadn't beeen curious about who the girl was that had talked me down. However, no matter how much I hated it, I was always able to place her face with her name whenever I heard it. Equally annoying was the fact that I also couldn't seem to forget the sound of her voice.

She was a quiet girl and never attracted much attention. That surprised me because before I had just bunched the whole family together in one group. There were always rumours about the rambunctiousness of the other members of the family from the occasional times when house tables were pranked by them. I had passed a day with bright pink hair after the apple juice was spiked one breakfast and another time they made the bench very hot so we all got burnt when we sat down. Their names went in one ear and out the other: James, Fred, Roxanne, Louis. There might have been others, but perhaps not. I didn't want to know about Rose Weasley's extended family or even wonder who they were. I tried not to think of myself as bigoted but I felt superior to them all. Rose Weasley had made me feel small for a short amount time, so I planned to avoid her from now on.

As fourth year ended, Rose Weasley and I had one more chance encounter. It was my first year on the Quidditch team and so I always arrived early to the pitch before practice because I wanted to stay on the Captains good side. It was a very rainy, gloomy day and I was not excited for practice as I started walking. The Quidditch cup was coming up and our captain had us on the field almost six days a week. As I got closer, I noticed through the rain a figure walk into the broom shed with something. Usually nobody from my team beat me to the pitch so I was a little suspicious as I walked closer. Then the figure came out and I noticed a short red bob. It was Rose Weasley. I knew that she wasn't on any house Quidditch team though. As a member of a team, we had an obligatory duty to know all other players and their weaknesses. I knew she was up to something no good, for what other reason could she be out here for?

I got angry at the idea that someone would be tampering with our brooms in storage, especially because she was from a different house than us. I pulled my robes tighter around me and I picked up my pace. I wanted to give her a piece of my mind for whatever she was doing. She had made me feel like a fool in the hallway that day; this would be my revenge. We drew closer and I noticed the calm look on her face whereas on mine I'm sure irritation would have been apparent. I had just opened my mouth to start berating her when my foot slipped in a patch of mud and I thudded onto my back.

Internally I groaned, for really– that just happened? Instead of making her escape like I thought she would she stood in front of me and reached down her hand. Her red hair was plastered to her face and her robes were soaked through from the pouring rain. She looked at me like we were equals though. I felt a shiver run up my spine when I looked at her eyes. They were calm, intense, sad, and intelligent. Last time she looked me in the eye I hadn't paid any attention to them specifically, too freaked out that she had had no qualms about me. Without really realizing what I was doing I reached up my hand and she pulled me up. When I was standing she gave me a nod and continued on her way.

And the broom shed? Well I would never know for sure why she entered the broom shed and if she would have possibly had something to do with what happened– but our Keeper found herself with a new broom. She was brilliant and that was why she made the team, but her old broom was from forty years ago, a second hand broom that was from her dad. She had never complained about it, never asked the team to pool money or anything, and never mentioned how her family couldn't afford one at home.

Yet how did Rose Weasley know– if she indeed put that broom in the broom shed? The team only found out afterwards that money was extremely tight for her. The broom was by no means a top of the line broomstick, but still respective enough in its own rights. In fact, it was just two models below mine, and mine was a hell of a good broomstick. Our Keeper had no clue who would have gotten her a new broom but she was bloody ecstatic about it and carried it around with her for a few days hugging it constantly. I didn't say anything of my suspicions about Rose Weasley because I was confused by what did or did not happen. And why, why the hell– if she did do it– would she do something like that?

We won the Quidditch cup that year. And then summer came.

I grew. By the start of fifth year I was just a few inches under my dad. People began to notice me a bit with my new height. I didn't get snubbed by as many people and some students decided I actually wasn't that bad. Whether it was because of my different looks or personality I didn't like to speculate about.

I refused to think of Rose Weasley when we were at school that year, I told myself not to care. It was my new goal, I felt like I was noticing her too much. The whole year she was a nobody to me - just a random girl in my year.

The one time that I couldn't escape the fact that Rose Weasley maybe-possibly-only-a-tiny-bit intrigued me was a conversation I overheard in the library. I was getting some books for Astronomy class. As I was nearing the back of the library I heard from the other side of the bookshelf two female voices.

'Why would you care about someone like him? He's not very. . . hygienic. It's really gross actually.'

The soft, musical voice that I recognized as Rose Weasley floated over the air in response. I told myself to leave, this was a Weasley and I didn't want to hear anything come from her mouth. But I stayed despite myself.

'Appearances aren't everything. Everyone deserves a chance, and he is really a brilliant kid. He just lacks the confidence to change things around him.'

'But you could be doing other things, like hanging out with your family for once. You never really sit with us anymore and you never do any pranks with us. What's up with that? Why do you have to tutor this disgusting kid?'

It was silent for so long that I thought they had both left, but then Rose Weasley's soft whisper came.

''Everyone knows that the drop emerges into the ocean, but few know that the ocean emerges into the drop'.'

There was a pause before the voice fired back, 'Rose, I don't want some bullshit answer that you always seem to give me. I don't give a bloody fuck about oceans and drops and whatnot.'

There was a slight pause before Rose Weasley replied.

'No matter what I say to you, you always say that it is bullshit, so this time I answered your question my way. If you really cared you would figure it out. And yes I have lots of family members, but I just need space sometimes. Pranks might be all fun and games for someone, but it gets old real quick, and it can hurt people more than one little laugh would be.'

I heard one of them sigh, and then the person Rose Weasley was talking to started speaking again.

'Well Rose, I don't know what is wrong with you. You have changed so much it isn't even funny. Yes, your muggle friend died two years ago but you know what – get over it.'

''Everyone talks and nobody listens',' Rose said softly and a little sarcastically.

'Like what the hell is that? You're so weird and boring now; such a frustrating and annoying misfit. You can't mope around everywhere and do nothing.'

'Don't call people names Roxanne Wealsey,' she replied angrily.

'I don't even bloody care. I don't even know who you are right now. You're not even family,' the voice said back harshly.

I heard feet stomp out of the library; I just saw black hair flashing by before everything fell silent for a moment. And because Rose Weasley thought nobody was around her she whispered to her already gone cousin. 'You really don't know me anymore. I actually care about more things than myself.'

I held my breath. I was afraid to move a step in case she heard me and realized that someone was privy to her conversation. The one quote was stuck in my head: All know that the drop emerges into the ocean, but few know that the ocean emerges into the drop. That was more profound than I realized at that moment. It remained with me the rest of the day even though I vehemently tried to get it out of my head. I didn't want Rose Weasley in my head, I wish I had never walked down to get the books; I didn't want to think of Rose Weasley at all! Regardless of how much I wish I didn't, my feet moved themselves quietly around the corner and I peeked at her sitting in a chair. All I saw was the back of her head. She was staring out of the window with her books open on the table, not moving. A few minutes later she got up and left and I let out the big breath I was holding. I didn't stay long in the library, just grabbed two books and left.

As I was leaving I pushed the door into someone. Books clattered to the floor and absentmindedly I said sorry and helped the kid pick them up. It was probably at that moment, subconsciously however, that I dropped Rose Weasley's last name and she somehow became just Rose in my mind.

-.o0o.-

Part II.

Summer came again and I grew a few more inches. Practicing Quidditch a lot outside gave me a healthy looking tan in lieu of my pale skin and more muscle in lieu of my gangliness. I returned to Hogwarts with a Prefects badge. I strutted around proudly, showing off the gleaming badge on my chest.

During sixth year my popularity grew even more and I discovered snogging and parties. Lots of girls started following me around and whispered to their friends about me indiscreetly. How could I not use that to my advantage? I figured I was late to the snogging game and so why not make up for that lost time. They practically threw themselves at my feet: they cheered for me in Quidditch and they asked me to go to Hogsmeade with them. All. The. Time. I was living high for the moment, felt on top of the world. On weekends different houses would throw parties and I went out, having a great time while trying alcohol for the first time. My parents were worried about my grades dropping but I didn't really care that much, who needed school? I didn't want to disappoint the people that had finally started paying attention to me. I had friends now, I was no longer the loner kid who sat outside by himself. They had started drinking last year and considered me a rookie. I wanted to get rid of that title to fit in even more.

Being a prefect meant that I had rounds to do every week. As neat as it was to be able to be out past curfew, I had snogging on my mind. That was how my next almost-but-not-really encounter with Rose happened. I hadn't realised it but she was a prefect too, I almost didn't recognize her from the previous year. She wore black rimmed glasses now and had grown a few inches over the summer, leaving her taller than most girls. Her red hair was a bit longer, falling to just above her shoulders in soft curls. In prefect meetings she rarely spoke, preferring to watch and listen to everyone. I can only remember her speaking up a few times in the year for I don't think– no matter how many years passed in the future if I never saw her– that I would ever forget the sound of her voice. But I didn't pay any close attention to her. She wasn't important to me for I had new friends who paid attention to me and actually had fun. They accepted me into their group. I had other girls on my mind.

Even though I was a prefect, I broke the rules when I was not on duty. There was a broom cupboard on the fifth floor that was perfect for a good snog. It was deep and there was an empty space at the back where it would be very difficult to see someone if they weren't moving. There was lots of cleaning supplies that blocked the sight.

That broom closet was where I found myself two months from the end of sixth year. I was nestled into the back waiting for my newest bird to come along. She was late however, and I was waiting impatiently staring at the walls letting my thought process take me from things like how long this broom cupboard had been here to the party coming up on the weekend to how many nails were in the wood. When the door opened I was just about to say something cynical to my snog partner when I realized that the silhouette was way smaller than the girl I was waiting for. And she was crying.

I froze up right then and didn't say anything. It was a little girl, probably first or second year, and she sat near the door with tears streaming down her face.

Well I was in an awkward position. I really didn't want the girl to know I was here and I couldn't leave without her noticing. I was stuck. I stayed against the wall, hoping that my snog partner would hurry along and help the girl so I wouldn't be stuck in here for long. Sooner rather than later the door opened again. However it wasn't the person I was expecting. It was Rose. She looked tall standing up and it was then that I realized that she was beautiful too. I tried to erase that thought as soon as I thought it, but it stayed at the forefront of my mind. Her wand was illuminated and I saw the compassion on her face as she looked down on the girl. I was hoping Rose would take her away to her common room but she did the exact opposite. Rose entered the broom cupboard, shutting the door gently and sat down cross legged. Her wand was still illuminated and the young girl looked at her quietly and sadly. I was shock still. How do I get themselves into these situations?

'I'm here if you need an ear,' Rose said quietly. I didn't think the girl would respond to the question, but she must have just needed to talk.

'My granmum just passed away. I got a letter from my mum a few minutes ago. And I didn't even get to say goodbye.'

Rose shifted herself; bringing her knees up to under her chin. She wrapped her hands around her legs squeezing tightly as she regarded the girl. A fresh river of tears fell down the girls face but she wasn't making any sobbing noises. Rose then unwrapped a hand and rested it gently on the girl's knee.

'Death is hard to bear, especially when it is loved ones who passed away.' Her voice was hard to place. It sounded thicker than normal, like she was trying to fight through tears to get words out. No tears fell from her face though.

The girl nodded but didn't say anything. The two sat in silence for an impossibly long time; I was beginning to grow stiff and numb, my legs falling asleep from sitting in place for so long. The young girl spoke again though, through her crying.

'Why do people have to die? Why can't they live forever?' There was another short silence before Rose spoke again.

''For death is no more than a turning us over from time to eternity',' Rose quoted softly. 'Death is part of life, and we can't avoid it even though it is painful and unbearable at times. But always keep your chin up; you may one day see those who have passed on again. For that is the way of life. Just remember that your granmum, even though she didn't get to say goodbye, loves you and will always watch over you from somewhere else. Remember all the happy memories, and don't dwell on the sadness.'

The girl nodded again and while wiping her cheeks of tears said, 'okay, I'll try. I better go find my brother now. Mum only wrote one letter.'

'Since it is past curfew, I'll take you there. Okay? And we can go talk to the Headmistress. You and your brother can get excused for a few days to go home to be with your family.'

This was a seriously depressing conversation and it was faintly tugging at my heartstrings. My excitement from the idea of the illegal snog rapidly dropped into sadness and gloom. I felt so fickle now; I seriously only cared about a snog? How shallow was I? I was disgusted with myself for being in the cupboard to hear this private conversation and for waiting in the dark like a coward. Just as Rose and the girl stood up the door opened and my-seriously-late-now-ex-snog-buddy was there. She looked affronted.

'What are you doing here?' she snapped at Rose, who looked with surprise down at the short brunette who was in front of her.

'Pardon?' Rose said. The brunette didn't seem to notice the sniffling girl, or just chose to ignore her.

'Why are you in this broom cupboard? It's me he is waiting for, not you. What would he ever see in you?' Brunette said condescendingly with her nose in the air, quite pompously, and I cringed. This was horrible.

I didn't want them to know I was here, I didn't want to get dragged into the conversation at all. I just wanted to leave and curl up in my bed. Brunette couldn't understand the thoughts I was trying to telepathically project into her head though. When Rose asked who she was waiting for, she responded rudely.

'Why Scorpius Malfoy of course. Who else would I be waiting for?'

Rose looked a bit surprised at this and quickly glanced to the back of the cupboard. I wasn't sure if she knew my name at all since we never had a proper conversation, but just by the look that glanced my way I knew she knew about the secret spot in the back.

'First of all, it is past curfew so return to your common room before I dock points. And second of all, Scorpius Malfoy isn't here. We've been in here for a while and nobody has opened that door other than you.'

The girl looked unsurely at Rose and then abruptly turned around with a flick of her pony tail and marched away. Rose then gently guided the young girl out of the cupboard and walked out herself. She made sure the little girl wasn't looking and then looked back into the cupboard. Somehow she found my face in the dark and held up both her hands to signify ten. I understood the message plain and simple: I had ten minutes to get a move on away from this place. She shut the door and I was engulfed in darkness. I didn't need a telling twice.

She never said anything to me the next day, nor the next two months. We both continued to just exist; we neither needed friendship nor communication from each other. We had both reached some kind of unspoken, unacknowledged agreement. I never returned to that cupboard again. I felt sick of the thought of all the girls who were so 'in love' with me. It felt so phoney when I tried to keep pretenses up for a little bit; they seemed so fake in comparison with the real emotion I had just seen. I grew annoyed very quickly at the giggling messes the girls were and tried to get them to leave me alone. Though many still tried, the majority realised that there was nothing they could do with my mood change and left me alone. My popularity dropped a lot and my friends questioned my sanity, begging me to come out again. I declined all the time. Even though there was only one month left of school, I wanted to try to raise my almost failing grades.

I surprised myself one time though. Quidditch season was finishing up and we were practicing as hard as ever. The captain was calling one of the Chasers a blibbering, bumbling fool who couldn't score a goal if his life depended on it. It was just a fit of rage from the captain, but something came over me before I could think.

'Don't call people names. It will hurt them more than it will help them,' I told the captain.

He regarded me coolly for a few moments before he said it was his team and he could say whatever the hell he bloody wanted to us. I was rewarded 10 laps for speaking out but I was proud of myself for saying something.

It was only in self-reflection later that I realized where that line had come from. Somehow Rose had snuck into my brain and was making me a better person. I, in return made the captain a better person, for he never again called us names, instead focusing on constructive criticism.

Summer came again before I knew it, the ending of sixth year arriving rapidly. This summer wasn't as relaxed as the previous ones had been. With my shitty grades from last year I asked to redo some assignments. I had to get my focus back on track; NEWTS were approaching and if I wanted to do anything with my life I needed to raise my grades. All summer long I did assignments and started looking at NEWT material. I also started thinking about what I wanted to do after Hogwarts.

I decided the first important thing was to move away from home right after Hogwarts. My parents were trying to talk me out of it since I had never really done anything for myself, but I was adamant. I had changed inexplicably somehow and somewhere in the past few years. Yes it all came together in one snap and I changed my decisions practically within that same week, but without any of the previous incidents, I might not have had the courage to tell my friends 'no'. Moving would be a way to experience life, all its complexities and simplicities, all its lessons and rewards. Moving would help me become independent and confident in myself. I hoped. I needed to do something for myself and live without the influence of certain wizards or any of my 'friends'. I needed to not worry about what people thought of me.

Seventh year I ignored girls for the most part. I had no more embarrassing run-ins with Rose that had seemed to happen a few times in the previous years. I lived in the library and the Quidditch pitch, ignoring everyone who complained I had become such a pansy. Rose was in the library lots but she was tutoring most of the time: younger students, and even some stressed by NEWTS. I watched her sometimes as she calmly explained vague and obscure concepts to the students who listened attentively. I caught her staring at me a few times when I would look up and she caught me staring too on occasion. But we never said anything to each other.

How I wished that I was brave enough to go over there and start up a conversation. But my thought process was that we had already been in school for seven years without talking. It would be too weird now to say anything. Even though I ignored my friends for the most part, I was too scared at how they would react if I went even further away from my usual social norm. Plus I was slightly embarrassed at how my last encounter with Rose had gone.

She once sent over a student to me that tripped over his shoelaces five times en route. He mumbled out 'Rose said you were really good at Transfiguration and if you didn't mind helping me, if you could possibly explain this to me real quick.' I was surprised that Rose knew that, but I willingly obliged and helped the boy out to the best I could. When he returned to Rose, she gave me a genuine smile before she returned to his work with him. I had a goofy grin on after that for a while before I realized I probably looked like an imbecile.

Seventh year ended and I realized I had not said one word at all to Rose the whole time at Hogwarts. I suddenly regretted not saying anything all those times in the library. For now, it was really too late, before I was just too - perhaps nervous - to say anything. School was ending and I didn't know if I would ever see her again. As much as the thought slightly pained me, I was a little sad. It took four years, but I was no longer too arrogant to think that thinking of a Weasley was senseless. Did I love Rose? Perhaps I did on some subatomic level at that point, but love and Rose didn't even enter my mind when I stepped off the Hogwarts Express for the last time. I was ready to start my own life.

.0.o.0.o.