Author's Notes: Did anyone else ever wonder how Romeo could suddenly change from being in love with Rosaline to being in love with her cousin, Juliet within a matter of seconds? Is love really something so fickle? This was just a plot bunny that had been floating around in my head for a long time, and tonight I had a sudden urge to write, so this s.p.e.w.-ed out. This symbolic little piece parallels Rose Weasley with the silent character, Rosaline, from William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, and Scorpius Malfoy with Romeo, and Lily Potter with Juliet. The story is told from Rose's perspective; since Rosaline does not get any lines from Shakespeare's this is my take on her feelings. After all...Rosaline was a member of the Capulet family, too! After a bit of free writing, this story turned more into an Ode to Ordinary Girls. Good Girls do not have to go Bad to be worthy of a story. After producing a huge show at my school this past year, I thought I would not be up for writing again for a long while, but this was rather fun and interesting to write, so I hope you will be able to enjoy it for the drabble that it is. - Jt

Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone from the Harry Potter series- those are property of JK Rowling. The quotes and Romeo and Juliet references belong to William Shakespeare.

PS- Please review!

The More is My Unrest

Romeo: I dreamt a dream tonight.
Mercutio: And so did I.
Romeo: Well, what was yours?
Mercutio: That dreamers often lie.

Such revelations that spew forth from words hissed in a private conversation in the crowded Charms hallway! Rose Weasley ducked her head and hugged her books to her chest as she quickly passed Scorpius Malfoy and his best mate Beauregard Zabini. She diverted her eyes from the soppy look she knew Scorpius would have on his face, but lacked the willpower to glance his way at last, just in time to see his expression crumple in unrequited affection and despair. Her breath caught in her throat- she blushed and looked away; luckily, he did not notice her reaction and had already pressed his forehead to the wall and kicked the statue of the hump-backed witch in frustration. Forcing her head to stay high, she walked briskly to the end of the corridor before turning the corner and slamming her back against the wall and sighing in resignation. How long had she known Scorpius Malfoy was pining after her? Did it all begin that first day of Potions in third year when they both arrived late on the first day, and thus were forced to become seat partners? It had been awkward, to say the least, for her to try to take notes on ingredients with him shooting furtive glances at her every few seconds. Or perhaps back in second year when they were transfiguring feathers into flowers and he had floated his perfectly transfigured yellow rose to spin gracefully before her on her desk? Could she be so bold to presume that he had already taken fancy to her in the traditional first year boating across the lake when another student had tripped him and she offered him a hand up before realizing who he was?

Since, then, try as she might, Rose could not pretend not to notice that whenever they were in the same room as each other, she might as well have been a Muggle homing signal, which Scorpius Malfoy was constantly honed in upon. At first, her housemates thought it comical that a Malfoy should have a crush on a Weasley, what with their families' history. After a while, though, perhaps since nothing ever came out of it, the gossip died down and Scorpius' devotion to Rose had become old and uninteresting news; something that everyone knew, but no one really cared about. All the Ravenclaws knew that the romance was one-sided, and that Rose Weasley never treated the son of her family's enemy with anything more than wary and polite respect. After all, who could imagine any union between a Malfoy and a Weasley? Love between one of the oldest blood purity lines and the family of blood-traitors? It couldn't happen, especially since Rose Weasley was so very Good.

Yes, Rose Weasley was a good girl. She was the type of girl that did as well, if not better, than expected, but never anything extraordinary. From her father, she had a strong sense of loyalty, as well as a severe bout of insecurity; from her mother, wit and cleverness, but a tendency to be a stick-in-the-mud, as some would say. There was something instantly likeable about her, just like a Weasley should have, but also the unusual and unostentatious prettiness that Hermione Granger possessed. But no epic stories would be relayed about her; no great tales that would inspire or shock the wizarding world. Rose Weasley was not hotheaded like her brother Hugo, or a Quidditch star like her cousin, James, or even the mysteriously sensitive heartthrob that her closest cousin, Albus, had become. When Rose got wind of the astounding news that Scorpius Malfoy fancied her, she did not even consider the possibility of anything coming out of it. After all, she knew who their respective families were. She would never cause a stir amongst her family, such a scandal for the wizarding world. Her family was large and diverse; Rose was not the girl to cause any worry.

And that was Rose's only life-tragedy. Because Rose Weasley was despairingly in love with Scorpius Malfoy. She felt sure that she could die of love for him. Her heart jumped to her throat and plummeted to her stomach whenever he was near, her breathing stopped when she felt his eyes on her, during the day her mind overran with thoughts of him, and at night, he was the champion of her dreams. But the "star-crossed lovers" bit was not meant for her; that much she could tell. It was as if she knew her entire life that she would be…ordinary. She was not Gryffindor enough to own up to and fight for her feelings, not Hufflepuff enough to be carefree and not overanalyze her life. And she was not Slytherin enough to put herself first and foremost.

When Scorpius had cornered and kissed her at a celebration party after Ravenclaw beat Hufflepuff in a Quidditch match, she had pulled away and told him very kindly but firmly that there was nothing between them and nothing for them. She had pretended to ignore him as he struggled to win her over with his attentiveness in Potions; but he little did he know that her heart was already all his- it was just too bad she could never give it to him. When he had summoned up the courage to ask her to their first ball their fourth year, she had told him she was determined to go stag with the other girls in their house. When he sent her a silver necklace from which hung a crystal globe with miniscule snowflakes floating within for her birthday last year, their fifth year, she did not thank him, for it was sent unsigned and she was gratified to feign ignorance.

It is my lady, O, it is my love!
She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?
Her eye discourses; I will answer it!
I am too bold; tis not to me she speaks.
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business,
Do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return.

He did not know that she recalled the memory from which the gift was inspired as if it were yesterday: the night he had stumbled upon her lonely form leaning over the balcony of the Astronomy tower to catch the snowflakes in her palm. She had been taking a break from studying, and sought solace from the peaceful atmosphere, and he surely had been doing the same. All these years they have been together, in the same common room, studying within sight of one another in the library, dining at the same table in the Great Hall, all for six years now, so that the longing that gnawed at her internally had become a chronically dull ache that she was accustomed to.

Beauregard's words were true: dreamers did lie. For though Rose was no tragic heroine or damsel in distress, she knew had infinite dreams within, and yes, a liar was she. For everyday that she did not admit that she loved Scorpius, not even to herself, she was a liar. When did she come to understand what love was? Did that twirling yellow rose melt her heart to feel touched by his attention? Did the way he always did his assignments in reverse order as she so that one would always be able to advise the other amuse her by his thoughtfulness? Did that brief but chaste kiss in the darkened corner of a bustling party qualify as true love's first kiss? She could still remember with perfect clarity the looming image of his face closing in towards hers…

"Rose?"

She opened her eyes and straightened up, for the he Himself stood now before her. His light brows were furrowed in slight concern beneath his tousled blonde hair, and his grey eyes looked almost hopeful. She cleared her throat and smiled tightly. "Hi, Scorpius; did you want something?"

Was it just her, or did his expression look less hopeful than it ever had in all these years? He paused, before asking, "I was wondering, were you going to the Gryffindors' party tonight? I hear your cousin is hosting a Christmas bash, and it's supposed to be a really big event."

For a split second, she wondered what would happen if she said yes. What if she took a chance and seized a spontaneous opportunity? What if she stopped being Rose Weasley and let herself be…just herself? She did not realize she was holding her breath. "I might be there…you know, to support my family."

"Would you want to go with me?"

Again, why did he sound so hopeless? She wondered where the glint that sparked in his right eye went; it was almost as if this time was different than any other time. Confused by this change, she bit her lip and wondered what it could all mean.

He spoke first, though. "But I suppose you are not looking to go with anyone? Are you still intending to stay out of the dating scene?" He cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. "You've never dated anyone." It was not a question. She knew he was right, but he did not know why.

"Well, then you already know, then."

"Yeah, I suppose I do. See you around then, Rose."

She watched his retreating back until he was no longer visible in the sea of students.

Benvolio: Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
Romeo: She hath, and in that spring makes huge waste.

Sometimes, Rose wondered why no other boys ever expressed interest in her. Perhaps they really thought she was not interested in dating. Maybe, out of respect for Scorpius, no one wanted to go after the object of his affection that he so suffered after. Maybe she was just really unattractive. She studied her reflection in the mirror. Her father's blue eyes with just the faintest of freckles on very pale skin, framed by thick brown curls. She did not exude the confidence or lightheartedness characteristic of girls her age, but the depth within her serious eyes contained a sea of heart and stories.

She is supposed to go find her cousin Albus in his dormitory when she is ready to go, but she dawdles because she both yearns and fears to see Scorpius, since he shares a room with Albus. She smoothes her robes and, because, she has run out of things to pretend to do in front of her roommates' questioning glances, decides to go kill time in the Astronomy tower. Somehow, she knows her best friend and closest cousin will know to find her there.

Climbing the stairs always gives her a sense of comfort because with the ascension comes a feelings of purpose and progress. Rather than being stagnant and resigned as she is in real life, going up to the Astronomy Tower gives her a taste of accomplishment. She reaches the top and breathes out deeply. She sinks onto the cool stone floor and leans back against the balcony railings as the wind blows her hair free from her hood and billows about her face. She reaches behind her and pulls the pendant of the necklace Scorpius gave her to the front. She normally wears it backwards underneath her clothes. She leans her head back and closes her eyes and parts her lips slightly, gently fingering the little globe. The air is cool on her tongue and heavy against her lashes.

"Now that's a pretty picture."

She opens one eye to see her cousin grinning wryly at her. She does not move from her spot, and so he joins her. She looks at his hair, long and dark like her Uncle Harry's but styled differently. She laughs when she notices that despite the wind, Albus' bangs remain perfectly swept across his forehead. She flicks a lock of his hair. "Nice spell work there. Did you do it yourself?" She knows the answer.

"No, Malfoy's handier at these sorts of spells." She knew that, of course.

"Ah."

"You should have just come to my dorm. He left for the party over an hour ago."

"Mm."

"It's been how many years now?"

"Six."

"I meant for you."

"Probably still six."

"You're a bloody idiot, you know that?"

"I'll have you know I have one of the highest marks of our year, Albus Severus."

"Shuddup, Rosie, you know what I mean." She does. "I mean, I just don't get what goes through that mind of yours. Sometimes I really think you're off your rocker."

"That makes two of us, cousin dearest."

He scrutinizes her expressionless face. "So why not?"

"You know why."

"That's bullshit, Rose Weasley; you and I both know it." He sounds tired, and he is, of this conversation that he always wins at but the results never change. "Your dad won't really get THAT mad; he was just joking around that time at King's Cross. And our family's not going to disown you or anything. What's your real problem?"

"You know that too."

"Yeah I know. You're bloody chicken. You're Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany's. You've got your mind set on some stereotype of who you think you are, and to keep it that way, you've built a cage around yourself." He looks at her in earnest. "Look, Rosie, I know you think you're the boring one, but I think it's all just in your head. There's no reason why you can't be free to do what you want without over-thinking everything. You're setting and baiting your own trap and if you don't stop letting it dictate your life, you're gonna fall in and then it'll be too late."

Rose bites on her lip, and can almost taste the bile in her mouth. She wants to cry; she wants to be ice, she wants to melt, she wants to persevere, but she is dying to be released. "It's so hard," she whispers. The tears are heavy behind her closed lids.

Albus puts an arm around her shoulder to comfort her. "Look, cuz, I know you act like everything is under control, but Merlin…come on look who our parents are! I know what kind of pressure you've had to deal with your whole life…and you're the oldest in your family. You didn't have an older brother to go through stuff first, like I had James. And even he…well he just mucked his way through everything so it wasn't so hard on him. You…you're so mature and you must've felt all the weight on you all along."

She feels a little lighter. She smiles at him, and he knows she is thanking him. "Do you really think I can change, Albus?" She sounds a little hopeful. "Do you think I can be like Lily? You know…so fiery and carefree and free-willed?"

Albus pondered this seriously. "Well…I don't think it's about changing who you are, Rose. I mean…I know you have a fun and carefree side; it's just about letting that side take over more of your life. You don't have to become my sister to be happy, you know?"

She nods. She does know. "Thanks, Al." She smiles and her tears are dried. "No one understands me like you do."

Albus grins back at her. "No one gets me quite as well as you do either, so it's fair." His green eyes get mischievous. "So we going to the party or what? It should be in full swing by now…and I'm sure there's going to be a decent bloke with light hair and strangely un-cold grey eyes waiting for your slow arse to show up."

Rose springs up immediately, and her cousin laughs. She gives him a hand up, and they begin their descent down the steps. Usually, going down the stairs makes Rose feel as if she were returning to her resigned existence, but this time, it feels she is freefalling into the unknown, and welcoming it. She feels lighter inside, and half listens to Albus' chatter as they rush along.

"Anyway, my brother's mate Aidan Finnegan, you know him? That tall good-looking one-oh, the Head Boy! Yeah well, he FANCIES my little sister! I mean, she's three years younger than him, but I guess James is supposed to try to get them together tonight…that should be a sight, eh? Lily's always had boys loping after her…but this should be interesting…I hope Dad sends James a Howler for setting Lily up when she's only fourteen…but then I bet Mum'll be pleased that he's a Head Boy…"

Benvolio: Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.
Romeo: Oh, teach me how I should forget to think.
Benvolio: By giving liberty unto thine eyes; examine other beauties.

They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was pink the cheeks and drinking with her friend, Violet. Giggling, she peered down at Rose and Albus. "I know you! I know you two…no don't tell me…I remember…Gringy and Potter, isn't it?" She squinted at them. "No, something is not right."

Her friend Violent jabbed her in the ribs. "When will you learn to tell time, you great ninny? Those two left Hogwarts ages ago. These must be more of their spawn." She pointed to Albus. "Though, she's right, you do look like your father."

"And he looked like HIS father!" The Fat Lady chimed in, hiccupping. She turned to Rose. "How come you're not in Gryffindor like your mum was, eh?"

Rose chuckled, and turned to Albus. "What was the password James made for the party again?"

"Potter Wheeze!" The portrait swung open.

Benvolio: At this same ancient feast of Capulet's sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest, with all the admired beauties of Verona.
Go thither, and, with unattained eye, compare her face with some that I shall show, and I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

The Gryffindor common room is packed with students from all different houses. A wizarding radio is blasting the latest hit and everywhere, students are milling about, dancing, drinking butterbeer, though some cups are likely to contain Ogden's firewhiskey, or getting caught between sprigs of mistletoe. Rose waves goodbye to Albus as he gives her arm a squeeze as he is pulled away by other boys from his dorm to partake in a drink. She notices that Scorpius is not among them. Her light hearted bliss comes to a freeze, though she does not understand why. She can just feel that something is amiss.

Romeo: O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear.
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, and, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love til now?
Forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw try beauty till this night.

The room seemed to spin, though she had not drunk anything at all. For the rest of the night, she could not find Scorpius anywhere at the party. The words she had practiced for years in her mind that had refused to reach her mouth were choking her throat now, but she could not find him to say them to. She felt lost. Eventually, Albus was by her side. It was too noisy, too messy to say anything in there. He handed her a cup of firewhiskey, and, without question, she downed the entire thing, burning her throat so to get a different sensation there.

"Did you hear?"

"Did you SEE?"

"Is it possible?

"I TOLD you I saw them!"

"I can't believe it- a Potter and a Malfoy?"

"Haha did you hear Finnegan got blown off?"

"Harry Potter's daughter with Draco Malfoy's son…"

"Scorpius and Lily!"

"But I thought he fancied Rose?"

"Who?"

"I don't know but whoever he was hung up on before hardly matters now, does it?"

"A MALFOY and a POTTER- now THAT takes the cake."

"Now THAT'S a real star-crossed love scandal…"

Rose wished she could cover her ears, but she felt numb. Sometimes, she thought she caught furtive sympathy glances her way, but she was sure she imagined it. After all, no one knew what her feelings were. They probably thought she was relieved. And most of them did not even know who she was, since she played such an insignificant role in the story.

Of course, when taken out to a party, he would see a spunky and beautiful young witch with flowing red hair and sparkling cinnamon colored eyes. He would see the weightless and open way she laughed when someone told a good joke, and the sweet kind smile when a shyer boy attempted to engage her in conversation. He would see the fire that burned freely in her eyes, the easy spirit that was evidently worn on her sleeves. This was the girl that people told stories about. The type of girl who followed her impulses and would fight for a forbidden romance without any second thought. The girl with the streak of rebelliousness was the one who lived the commendable life that sparked interest and admiration. This was the witch every other girl wanted to be, and every wizard hoped to find.

When the scandal hit that Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was secretly dating Lily Luna Potter, the entire school was abuzz, and it was not long before it was determined that their fateful introduction had been at the famous Potter party held not-so-discreetly in Gryffindor Tower weeks earlier.

Rose did not feel sorry for herself. She knew that she had taken his affections for her for granted, and it was through no one's fault but her own that she had been too scared and too late to embrace her own feelings. She tried to smile at Albus, because she knew he was worried about her.

Romeo: Aye, mine own fortune in my misery.

Albus tried to comfort her. "It's okay to feel bad for yourself, Rose. I mean…if no one else is going to feel for you, don't you think you owe it to yourself to feel for you?" She knows he is not trying to be unkind. "I mean…it's not your fault-okay, well, it IS your fault, but you still don't deserve this punishment. Like…it's your fault but it doesn't make you the bad guy. So…go on ahead and feel sorry for yourself. I think you deserve to be there for yourself."

She glances around and feels her stomach turn to lead when she sees, behind the corner of the castle, a familiar blonde head leaning into another familiar redhead. Albus regards her pensively. "You know…I believe that you really loved-I mean, love him."

Romeo: Aye, so I fear; the more is my unrest.