Disclaimer: Title is a lyric from the song Library by Bridgit Mendler. I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.
Written for Level One of the 12 Days of Christmas Challenge on Caesar's Palace.
Pairing: Albus/Rose (Platonic, familial relationship.) I also couldn't resist sneaking in some Scorpius.
Rose Nymphadora Weasley wakes up to someone shaking her shoulder. She groans. Open her eyes. The world around is sleep-blurred, but she can still tell that the morning sunlight is too dim for it to be a reasonable hour to be awake.
"Rose," someone whispers. "Wake up. Rose?" It's Al, of course it's Al. She loves her cousin, really, but she's tired, Merlin's wand, she's tired.
"What," she says back, flat. "Al, it's, like, six in the bloody morning."
There's a pause before he tells her, "Six-twenty," and she knows he looked at the clock.
"Pedant," she mutters, borrowing under the covers.
There's rustling, then Al's warmth pressing closer. "Rose," he says again, using that kicked-puppy tone. It's very persuasive, and very effective. Rose caves a good eighty-five percent of the time he uses that voice; she can feel her resolve crumbling right now. He's such a Slytherin.
"Fine," she groans. She hauls herself into a sitting position, bleary eyes meeting Al's bright ones. "What do you want?"
He smiles innocently, and holds up his Firebolt. Rose swears at him under her breath as she rolls out of bed.
"I can't believe you woke me up to play Quidditch," she tells him.
"I woke Scorpius up too," he says, cheerful.
Rose fixes him with the most deadpan stare she can muster before seven in the morning. Scorpius is a notoriously shitty morning person. Rose thinks Al is notoriously lucky when waking up his friends at ass o'clock in the morning in the middle of summer.
"Come on," Al says. He's lingering in the middle of the room her and Lily share at the Burrow. Lily's away at a "friend's" house for the next two days, which is why she isn't here to groan at the exchange. Lily likes to do big group activities, but Rose and Al have always preferred going out in smaller groups of people. "Change into your robes, and let's go."
She sighs. It's inevitable to go play Quidditch now, but she also really wants a cup of coffee, or tea, or anything with caffeine. "You go first," she tells him, and Al nods and hurries out the door.
Rose's smiling before it even closes. Then she goes into her closet to dig out some suitable Quidditch clothes.
This is a regular thing for between the two of them: one wants to do something, but the other resists until they finally cave under pressure. She's dragged him to the library to study, he's pulled her outside to go on an adventure. Even in summer, it doesn't stop, and Rose feels a rush of affection for her cousin.
She tugs on her old Gryffindor Quidditch robes, and goes back into her room. Through the window, which overlooks the backyard, she can see Al and Scorpius begin to rise on their brooms. She traces the blurs as they accelerate, looping through the air. They're incredibly talented, and she has vivid memories of racing Al and James, learning to go faster and faster. All that work has paid off.
Rose grins, warm and still a little sleepy, and goes downstairs to join them.