The Black Rose

Grass swayed gently over the rolling hills. Buttercups bowed their golden heads in the breeze. Only the clip of two horses disturbed the pleasant quiet of the field. Even the riders were silent, their minds on thoughts more important than the scene before them. The hoods of their cloaks hid the riders' faces as it billowed in the light breeze. The silent riders carried a small bundle, clasped in gloved hands.

The golden disc above them began its daily arc toward its nightly slumber when another horseman rode up. He too was cloaked and hooded, exchanging a few hushed words before taking the bundle and riding off through the glowing sunset. Another joined him and the two rode off into the night. Just barely could one see the crest of the coat of arms on the horse's saddle, a black rose and a silvery sword entwined. The two horsemen continued until they reached a glade of trees to make camp. In the distance a lone wolf howled and an answering bark of a dog rang through the air, other than this the night was cool and silent. In the camp one figure stood watch as the other tended to the bundle and settled himself for a few hours of restless sleep.

The dew in the grass had not evaporated before the two riders broke camp and set off. Suddenly, from behind a tree stepped a dark figure. In its hand it wielded a sword. Before the two could flee the figure swiped at one of the horse's leg. It went down with a grunt and the riding figure hastily disentangled himself and hurriedly handed the bundle to his companion. A shout to leave him and take the bundle and keep it safe was all the other rider needed before he streaked past the attacker. The attacker tried to pursue him but the first companion blocked him. They locked in a deadly fight of swords. Just as the companion trapped the attacker he tripped, leaving his neck exposed to the attacker. The fallen figure closed his eyes, waiting for the cold kiss of death.

Meanwhile, the small bundle had escaped the attack and was making its way down a pleasant glen where a dilapidated cottage sat. Just outside the gate a sign read " The Barrow."

"Virginia Rose Weasley, get up now!"

Sixteen- year- old, Virginia Weasley grudgingly pulled herself out of bed and started for the bathroom. Squinting in front of the bathroom mirror, she saw a young woman with flaming curls and pale white skin. Her bust was of average size, which showed off her slender hips and extended to her long legs. She supposed she was good looking but that was only because everyone told her she was. She'd only had a few guys ask her out but she had rejected them and saved herself for Harry. The only problem was, was that Harry just really didn't seem to notice her. Whenever she walked by him or talked to him, she tried to flaunt her body but he never took any notice. It was almost as if he didn't care. He viewed her as Ron's little sister and so treated her like one. Sighing, Virginia, as she always liked to call herself, combed her fingers through her red locks and proceeded to dress in her school uniform. The uniform had been bought second-hand and the bottom just brushed Virginia's shin. The front of the robe clung to her chest like a second skin and made her breasts more profound. This factor was the only good thing about her uniform. Putting a quick charm on her hair so that it would not look too messy Virginia made her way to the dining room. Harry was there as usual, shoving food down as fast as possible as well as the rest of her brothers. Hermione was there as well but had not arrived for breakfast yet. Probably getting herself dressed up for her Ronny! Virginia thought sarcastically. Who would want to dress up to see Ron? As Virginia looked over at her brother, gorging himself on eggs and bacon, her lip curled in disgust. Virginia however detested eating in that fashion and so she sat as far away as possible from the boys. Virginia had many qualities that did not exactly match those of her family's. For one, she hated wearing second-hand clothing, and secondly she hated the way her home looked. Every time she looked at the Burrow she just couldn't avoid scrunching up her face in antipathy (disgust). Why was she the only one in her class that had to live in a shack? All her friends were of the highest class and she often went to their houses during the Christmas and Easter breaks. She would never take one of her friends to her house.

"Hurry dear, you don't want to miss the Hogwart's train, urged Mrs. Weasley.

Ignoring her mother, Virginia continued to eat slowly. She liked to eat neatly and hated spilling anything. When Virginia finished she went up to her room to grab her wand and other necessities that she had forgotten to pack. In her room, she also applied a little make-up and used a charm to make her robes longer and fit more comfortably along with changing the fabric to black velvet with her Hogwart's badge. Satisfied with her appearance, Virginia went back down the long twisting steps and out to the rented Ministry car. This was another thing she detested. Ever since their own car had been lost they had had to rent one of the Ministry's.

The four teens arrived at the station five before ten o'clock and hurriedly went through the barrier. Harry, Hermione, and Ron found a compartment for themselves but Virginia excused herself to sit with her friends. Another year of Hogwarts had begun as the train pulled away.

Please review! This is my first fanfic. so no flames please. Helpful comments for improvementas on any part of this composition will be gladly accepted.

Thanks,

VirginiaBlack Malfoy