ok so this is actually a rewrite of my first fanfic (on a different account) it's about rose and scorpius. cuz who can't love them?! I believe sometime later there will be a time skip and we will jump into 6th year or somewhere around there...yup.
also, i realize that in the canon, Hugo is younger than rose and has Weasley hair, but here I have made him the same age as james and he has brown hair...
please r&r I will luv u forever :)
Chapter 1
"I knew it!" Rose shrieked, handing a couple of small bronze coins to the fierce-looking Hogwarts Horned owl, then quickly pulling her hand out of reach of the sharp-looking beak. "I knew I wasn't a Squib!" she waved the white envelope high above her head, shooting a triumphant look at her older brother, Hugo, who had been trying for years to make her believe she was as non-magical as the legendary Dursleys; Uncle Harry's relatives whom she'd only heard stories about.
"I wouldn't get your hopes up, Rose." Hugo replied gravely. He shook his head sadly, causing his light brown hair to swish back and forth, "They send letters to Squibs as well, you know. To make their Squibness official."
"Liar." Rose snorted as she dashed into the kitchen shouting, "Mum! Mum! Look I've got my letter I've got it!"
"That's wonderful, darling, We're going to Diagon Alley on Saturday. Here, take this to the table – your father will be home in a few." Hermione thrust a plate of baked chicken into Rose's arms – a muggle recipe, but good nevertheless, - then pointed her wand at a pot on the stove. "Incendio!" The burner flared to life happily as Rose placed the chicken on the table.
"And set the table too, will you?" Her mother's voice emulated from the fridge, accompanied by the exasperated whisper of, "Oh, forget it – Accio cheese!"
"Aww, but Mum, it's Hugo's turn to set the table." Rose whined, "Besides, don't I get special privileges? Today is a special day for me, you know." She reminded Hermione, tapping her envelope on the edge of the kitchen counter.
"Well, are you going to open it or not?" Hugo asked boredly, arriving on the scene. He was going into his third year at Hogwarts and his thirteenth birthday was only seven months away – March twenty-third, thus, he was of the opinion that everyone else was below him. Especially his kid-sister; a lowly first-year.
Rose tore open the letter in response, only looking up when the fireplace flared green and a tall, red-haired man appeared in the flames.
"Dad!" she wasted no time in spreading the news, "Look what I've got!" it came by the owl post just now!"
"Hey, Rosebud." Ron grinned, stepping out of the fire and grinning at his daughter. Everyone said that both Rose and Hugo looked more like their mother (and in the case of Hugo, Hermione's mother), but unlike Hugo, Rose had inherited the trademark Weasley hair. Curly and carrot orange, it was currently collected in a single braid down her back, though a few rebellious wisps had managed to break free of their imprisonment and were now roaming free around her face.
"So you got your letter then? Good for you…what's for dinner?"
…..
"Muuuummm," Rose groaned, chewing the sleeve of her sweater in agitation, "When are we going to goooo?"
"Soon, Rose." Hermione sighed, "We have to finish your lists first. Oh, do you think Neville wants the 2013 edition of Plants and Herbs of the Wizarding World: Book 3 or the 2015 edition?"
"I don't think it really matters." Hugo put in. "And will you stop calling the teachers by their first names? It's…weird."
"Hugo! Of course it matters!" Hermione said in exasperation, ignoring this last comment, "What if the differences between the two books cause a mishap on your O.W.L. scores?!"
"Mum, my O.W.L.s aren't for two more years." Hugo grumbled.
"You need to start with good habits now! When you apply for a job they will look at your school records! I don't want to hear that you've been stealing from Pansy Parkinson's private stores to make a love potion for Elaine DeLacour this year, do you hear me?!"
Hugo sulked and mumbled something that sounded like "Yes, Mum."
Rose giggled; she remembered the letter home about that particular incident quite well. Hugo and their cousins, James and Fred, had attempted to make a love potion last year for one of Victoire's cousins, Elaine DeLacour. The result had been a highly acidic concoction that had reduced Hugo's cauldron to a lump of pewter, ruined the carpet in their dormitory, and had required the services of specially trained house elves to remove the smell. Professor Parkinson had been furious to discover that the stolen ingredients from her cupboard, some very rare, had gone to such a hopeless cause.
"I think we'll get the 2015 edition just to be sure." Hermione decided, scribbling it down on the list. She added a few more things before checking it over three times, then nodding in a satisfied manner.
"Hey Mum, do you think I can get a pet?" Rose asked hopefully, sending an envious glance at Hugo's owl, Newton. Newton was a magnificent Tawny Owl, and he was quite taken himself. He eyed Rose beadily from his cage, fluffing up his feathers and then ducking his head to preen under his left wing.
"We'll see." Her mother answered, and Rose couldn't tell from her face which way 'we'll see' was more likely to go.
….
"Diagon Alley." The fire rose and turned a violent shade of lime as Rose stepped into it. There was the usual twisting, roller-coaster sensation, and she landed in one of the public floo fireplaces at the end of Diagon Alley next to her mother and brother.
"Right," said Hermione at once as she began to walk brusquely, pulling out the two lists she had made and handing one to Hugo. "This one's yours. Here, take some money" – she handed him a bag of coins – "And meet us at the Leakey Cauldron at…one o'clock. No dawdling." She added sternly, "Don't go messing if you find James or Fred, don't talk to strangers, don't let anyone pickpocket your money, walk on the right side of the road, do not set foot in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes – if you have, I will know, ask a trustworthy person if you don't know where something is, don't –"
"Mum, I'll be fine." Hugo rolled his eyes, walking off towards Flourish & Blotts and waving coolly over his shoulder.
"Don't forget to meet us!" she called after him anxiously.
After chewing her lip for a moment, Hermione turned back to her youngest. "Right. First things first: robes."
The employee attending to them at Twilfitt and Tattings was cheery and talkative, babbling on continuously about this, that, and the other, stopping only for breath and commenting on anything that popped into her head. She had been, she explained, a Hufflepuff, and clearly her best wish for Rose was that she, too, would be a Hufflepuff, for her conversational antics nearly always looped back round to Rose's feelings about going into Hogwarts.
It was with great relief that Rose and Hermione finally took their leave, having extracted themselves from this situation by pretending they had an appointment to get to.
Next stop: Flourish & Blotts, where they collected a multitude of textbooks and quills. Then onto a dark, funny-smelling shop that was the apothecary, and after that Potage's Cauldron Shop and a few others besides.
Last but not least, there was Ollivander's
It was a fairly run-down looking place; the paint was peeling off and a few of the cobblestones were missing from the walkway that led from the street to the door. Inside, there was most prominently the smell of moth balls and musty cardboard. Although there were a couple students and their parents in line ahead of Rose, it had the quiet and peaceful atmosphere of a library.
A tallish, blond boy reached over the counter to receive his wand as his father paid the positively ancient man behind the counter, and together they turned and strode out the door. The father nodded coolly to Hermione and she responded in kind.
"Weasley."
"Malfoy."
Ah, so this, then, was the famed Draco Malfoy that Dad and Uncle Harry were always telling stories about. She met the son's eyes briefly as they passed. They were slate grey, identical to the father's.
The bell tinkled as the Malfoys made their exit and the next customer stepped up – a chubby girl with an unflattering set of teeth.
Due to the nature of the art of wand-choosing, it was another ten minutes before it was Rose's turn. Ollivander peered down at her through his spectacles. The man was so old that he looked more like a cross between a prune and a walnut than he did human. A few determined wisps of white hair still clung to his head and stuck out at odd angles. Ollivander caught sight of Hermione and the walnut split into a grin.
"Well, well, my girl, looking just the same as ever. Back for the second child I see. How's young Hugo doing? Let's see his is…cypress and unicorn hair, if memory serves, twelve and a quarter inches, slightly springy, correct?"
"That's it." Hermione beamed.
"Well then, let's see what we can do for the young one here. What's your name?"
"Rose Leigh Weasley." Rose answered obediently.
"Birth date?"
"October sixteenth, 2006."
"Blue or orange?"
"Um…blue."
"Coffee or tea?"
"Coffee."
"Favorite sport?"
"Quidditch!"
"Early bird or night owl?"
"Early bird."
"Thank you." Ollivander concluded, disappearing into the back of his shop. He hobbled back a minute later with four wand boxes, which he set upon the counter and opened the first. "Dogwood and phoenix feather, ten and a half inches, bendy."
Rose accepted the wand by the handle and gave it a little swish through the air. Ollivander's clawed hand reached out and removed it from her immediately, muttering, "No no no, wrong flexibility."
He opened the next box reciting, "Pear and phoenix feather, eleven inches, fairly flexible."
This, too, was rejected, and set on top of the dogwood wand, and the next one opened.
"Silver lime and phoenix feather, thirteen inches, hard."
Rose had barely taken hold of the handle when Ollivander snatched it back. "What was I thinking, silver lime? Here, give this one a go." He opened the fourth box and pulled out the wand, "I thought the phoenix feather would agree with you, but I brought out a dragon heartstring just in case it didn't, which it hasn't. This one is vine and dragon heartstring, thirteen inches, fairly flexible."
Rose waved it. It did feel a little better than the others, she conceded. Ollivander, on the other hand, was still unsatisfied.
"Your mother has a vine and dragon heartstring wand." He commented, "So I thought you might be well matched with one. However, I don't think it's quite right."
"I like it all right." Rose allowed. Ollivander's eyes held a spark of amusement.
"Miss Rose, a measley little all right is not acceptable in a wand. Do you see the rows and rows of wands behind me? Surely, there is one among them that is better than all right."
Taking the four unsuccessful wands back to their places, he returned with only a single box this time.
"Give this one a wave." Ollivander handed Rose the wand and she took it. "It's sycamore with dragon heartstring, twelve and three quarters inches, unyielding."
She obeyed, giving the same little swish and flick motion she'd seen her mother use to lift things when cleaning. This time, the wand was not snatched away and Ollivander brightened considerably.
"Well now, I think we've found the one! Or rather, it has found you."
I hope you enjoyyyyedddd!
luv u
-oldsoul
here comes the sun
na na na na
here comes the sun
and I say
it's all right