A/N: This is something that I conjured up out of literally NOWHERE...warning, there's self-abuse and quite some angst in there. ScorRose forever. Will update as soon as I know that enough people love it :P Hope you're one of them! :)


Withered


Her eyes took in the torn and tattered appearance of her favourite novels and her thin white fingers brushed lovingly across the cracked leather cover as her nostrils flared with the scent of old leather mingling with old pages, old spaces, old memories.

She opened the cover of the book and flipped through the pages till she found the unsmiling face of Helena Ravenclaw and a mixture of shame and regret, loss and ache flooded through her, leaving her senses seized for a moment as she felt her spirit become with that of Helena.

Her fingers guiltily, unconsciously brushed across the pale curve of her neck where her mother's gold chain nestled against her jutting collarbones. It made her send yet another infinite apology to her mother for stealing the only remaining memory of her wedding day.

Rose shut the books, pushed the chair into position rather scratchily and walked slowly towards the Gryffindor dormitories. Her emaciated frame was shrouded within the black robes that billowed around her in the unpredictable autumn breeze that followed her out of the library.

"Rose, hey, where have you been? I've been looking for you for over an hour!" Lily's brow furrowed as she took in Rose's pallor.

"Oh, I was just completing my Charms essay in the library," Rose responded airily, her hands automatically hiding the books she held within the loose folds of her robes.

"Where's your parchment?" Lily's sharp eyes scarcely missed a heartbeat.

"Oh, er…I must have left it back at the library. I'll see you in a bit then!" Rose turned around promptly, already regretting her return to the dorm.

Lily pulled Rose back before she could escape. "Aren't you coming for dinner, Rose?"

"I'm not all that hungry; I've been gorging on chocolate frogs and sugar quills the entire day!" The lie came to her easily, but her dead eyes betrayed her faux-cheerful voice.

The dormitory burst open just then and a frazzled Lucy burst through the door. "Lily? James and Lysander have been looking for you in the common room; they mumbled something about charms and hexes that I just couldn't comprehend…" she breathed heavily, rather red in the face

Lily rushed over to her. "Hey, whoa, slow down. What did they call me for, again? Are they alright?"

"Just go to them, Lil, common room!" Lucy snapped, reminding Lily so much of her uncle Percy. It terrified her so much that she scuttled away, but not before throwing Rose a worried glance.

"Promise me you'll have dinner. Here, go with Luce," Lily pressed, still a little worried.

"Don't worry about me, Lil. Tell James and Ly I say hello!"

"I will."

And with a flash of bright red hair, she streaked off to where her brother and best friend waited for her.


Rose entered the deserted girl's washroom on the third floor and looked around furtively to ensure that no one, not even Moaning Myrtle was around to invade her privacy. She then cast a silencing charm around the last sink, placed her bag on a dry patch on the ground and dug a wicked black quill out of her bag, a quill so unlike the one she and everyone else used normally.

A dark smile flitted across her smile as she recalled how she had mastered the complex magic required to create such an artefact as a fourth-year student two years ago. For just a moment, Rose felt proud of herself.

But even this intellect is something I acquired from mum, she thought bitterly, the smile wiped clean from her face. Nothing is mine. I own nothing. NOTHING! The dark unhappy waves swirled and crashed against her mind, burning deep holes into her soul.

She unearthed an old piece of parchment and began writing.

I am poor.

I own nothing.

I am poor.

I own nothing.

The deep red words glistened on her parchment and the deep red words bled from her left hand.

I am poor.

I own nothing.

I am poor.

I own nothing.

The sink was now a drowning canvas of pinks and whites, the blurry colours mirroring Rose's blurry mind.

And all of a sudden her world went black and Rose crashed onto the cold, wet floor just as Myrtle entered and screamed and screamed and screamed, loud scared screams that nobody heard.

They lay there together, two forgotten girls, with the dead hopelessly trying to revive the dying.


"Rose! Rose, wake up, Rose, do you hear me?"

His long, slim fingers were smeared with her blood and he was beside his mind trying to revive her.

Even he didn't know what had possessed him to direct his desperate search for her towards the abandoned ladies' washroom, but he was so grateful to his gut instinct for leading him there. A few moments more and he'd be attending her funeral instead.

The fact that she hadn't been at the Great Hall for the fourth night in a row was just one minor sign of distress that Rose Weasley had unwittingly demonstrated. Coupled with her growing separation from everyone, even him, and her complete lack of participation in classes, she'd become a person that even Scorpius had failed to recognise.

His heartbeat throbbed arrhythmically as he tried reviving her in vain and the tears now fell fast, deepening the pool of bloody water in which Rose lay.

"Rose," he managed weakly, picking her cold hand up to press his lips to it when his blood froze over.

I am poor.

I own nothing.

The words carved out deep into her hand still oozed blood, and Scorpius cried out in alarm.

He'd assumed that the blood on the floor was from a wound on her head as she'd taken a rather mighty fall. Standing up, he almost vomited at the sight of the bloody sink and caught sight of the vicious black quill lodged in a crevice behind the tap.

Repulsion overtook him as he gingerly picked the quill up with just a thumb and forefinger and he ran towards a cubicle, flushing the incriminating object down the toilet.

He sloshed back to Rose, who still showed no signs of life except for the weak pulse fluttering by the blue veins in her wrist. A desperate Scorpius picked her off the floor after using his green muffler as a makeshift bandage over the cuts on her hand and hurried towards the hospital wing, wondering how on earth he was going to explain himself to Healer Abbott. She hardly weighed anything and panic bubbled within him, rising as he tried in vain to remember the last time he'd seen her eat.

His mind was racing as he carried away quickly, using discrete routes that allowed him to escape the stares and questions that were bound to follow. He thought of Hugo and Albus and groaned. Her family. How was he going to explain himself to them? Where were they, to begin with?

He began talking to Rose again in a panicky voice as she remained still. It had been a good half hour since he'd found her and her lack of response was frightening him more than he allowed himself to express.

"Rosie, sweetheart, what's happened to you? Why were you doing that to yourself, why haven't you been talking to you? I've missed you…"

Her eyeballs moved just the slightest bit beneath their paper thin lids and he continued with renewed vigour in his voice.

"Rosie, did you know that James and Lysander actually came to dinner with huge purple splotches all over their face? A result of a silly duel with Fred and Louis, I heard. And professor Neville was blushing so hard as Professor Platrela casually mentioned Healer Abbott…made me wonder if the two were having a baby or something." His words didn't even make sense to his own ears but she'd response to his voice before and he felt like he'd do anything to see her respond again, if only slightly.

The hospital wing was in full view now and Scorpius breathed a haggard sigh of relief. He paused for a second and pressed his lips onto her cold, cold forehead, tracing kisses down her sharp cheekbone and protruding jawline. Her emaciated face and body frightened him to his very core; here were emotions he wasn't accustomed to at all.

"Healer Abbott!" Scorpius burst into the hospital wing, only to find it abandoned.

His heart leaped into his mouth and his eyes stung with unshed tears.

What was he to do now?


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