Sweet Sixteen
Chapter
One:
Why
Best Friends Rock and Mothers Know Best
June
15th 2022
Number
3 Sutter Street
"Please, please, please?" Her bottom lip jutted out in what her father would normally think to be an adorable gesture. He used to melt at that particular face. Back before she reached puberty and started dressing like a teenager rather than a little girl. Now, it was much easier to say his new favourite two letter word.
"No."
It actually felt good to the father of two. Not that crushing the hopes and dreams of his only daughter felt good. When she was a little girl, a kiss on the cheek and that pout and she would get anything she wanted. It felt good that she didn't have him as wrapped around her finger as she once did. If he allowed that, there was a good chance she'd come home with a piercing in ever orifice and strung out on drugs. Well, maybe that was a bit far fetched. She was generally good, except when her nutty friends were around. Speaking of…
"Please, daddy?" She batted her pretty brown eyes at him and he smiled. He would not give in. That one little question she'd asked had scared him to death and he felt the sudden urge to shield his daughter from the world.
"No, Rose." She harrumphed and sat heavily in the chair opposite him in their small kitchen in their moderately sized suburban home.
Then her mother walked in and he sighed. His wife would (hopefully) agree with him and then it would be settled. And if she didn't…well, he wouldn't go down without a fight.
"Mum!" Rose jumped up and ran to her mother, crossing the kitchen, barefoot, in four steps. "I want to have a boy/girl party for my sixteenth."
Hermione looked contemplative for a moment, and then turned to him, noting his grimace. "And what did your father say?"
"Oh, you know daddy. He said 'no' without even giving it a thought."
"I somehow doubt that. If your father said no, there's undoubtedly a good reason. Ron?"
"Hermione." He nodded to his wife. Then he sighed. "You're not old enough," he told his daughter, standing to defend himself.
"How old is old enough, dad?"
"Old." Hermione glared at him and he rolled his eyes. "I'm not about to be responsible for a bunch of hormone driven teenagers in my house playing spin-the-wand or seven minutes in heaven or strip poker. I know how boys that age think and I know your nutty friends-"
"My friends are not nutty! Well, except for Lola…why she would fancy you, I have no clue." Rose rolled her eyes.
"Loud music, dark corners," he used his fingers to make air quotes, "special punch."
"So what you're really saying is that you don't trust me!" Rose shouted. Hermione steered her towards a chair and then sat down herself.
"I trust you. I don't trust teenage boys with shifty eyes and wandering hands."
"Mum!" Rose turned her eyes on her mother, who looked contemplative for a moment. Then she sighed.
"I'm going to have to agree with your father, Ro-"
"What?" She yelled, shooting out of her chair. She stood with her hands on her hips, her head cocked to the side. There was so much of her mother in her. "I can't believe this! All of my other friends get to invite boys to their parties! I'm going to be sixteen!"
"Remind me not to let you go to any of those parties," Ron mumbled under his breath. Rose glared at him, before turning back to her mother. Suddenly, a noise erupted from the small red head that neither of her parents had ever heard. It was a mix between a screech and a banshee mating call, and then Rose was stomping down the hall to her room.
"This is so unfair! I might as well stay fifteen! Want to shelter me for life? Send me to a friggin' convent then, dad!" then she slammed the heavy wooden door to her room, causing the whole house to shake.
"Well, that went well," Hermione muttered, head in her hands. A tall boy with curly brown hair came in through the back door and glanced around the silent kitchen. After a moment, their youngest child spoke.
"Okay. What did I miss?"
Rose paced her bedroom. The lavender throw rug beneath her feet was well worn from her pacing, and had begun to fade in her tracks. She was so angry; she spun around and kicked the post of her bed, stubbing her toe in the process.
"Ow!" she squealed, grabbing her foot and jumping up and down. She lost her balance and fell backwards onto her bed. Her big toe was bleeding. "Poo," she muttered under her breath, standing up quickly to keep from getting blood on her purple comforter.
She hobbled into the connected bathroom, slamming the door that led into Hugo's room shut. Stepping carefully into the bathtub, she sat down on the edge and turned on the cold water. She winced at the sting of cold water entering her open wound, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from yelling out.
Eventually, the pain began to ebb away, and she made the water hotter. She grabbed the soap and her bright pink loufa and rubbed them together under the flow of water, lathering up. She then pulled her wet foot on to her bare thigh and began washing away the blood.
Her father was only doing what he thought was right, she conceded. Of course, assuming all sixteen year old boys had shifty eyes and wandering hands was a bit far fetched. If he wanted to go there, he was basically saying all of his nephews that had reached puberty, not to mention his own son, were perverts. She giggled at that.
"Besides, it's not like I would be able to invite the one boy I actually want to celebrate my birthday with." She smiled wistfully, rinsing the soap from her foot, and then rinsing out her loufa.
Rose thought of her boyfriend. His silky blonde hair, bright blue-grey eyes, strong jaw and other handsome features. How he held her when they kissed, his arms wrapped around her and his hands resting gently above her bum.
It had been a measly few hours since she'd seen him as the Hogwarts Express had pulled in to Kings Cross Station at Platform nine and three quarters. She'd tasted his lips one last time, secretly, before joining her brother and cousins to meet their parents on the platform. She had caught his eye as his father led him away, and they shared a secret smile.
"Oh, Scorpius," she sighed dreamily. Then, realizing where she was, she stood and shook the excess water from her feet. She padded into her room and threw herself on to her bed.
She wouldn't get her dream
boy/girl sweet sixteen party. But that didn't mean she couldn't have
one kick ass party with her closest girl friends.
June
16th 2022
"Okay, so we will start with the guest list."
It was the following night and Rose and her mum sat in the small kitchen after dinner, a pad of paper in front of Hermione, and a pen poised over the top, ready to write notes and construct lists. Which, Rose smiled, is what mum thrives on. Being in charge. Organization.
"Okay," Rose agreed, "how many people can I invite?"
Ron plopped down in the chair next to Hermione, the expression on his face making it evident that he would rather be anywhere but in that kitchen at that moment.
"Two," Ron said automatically, crunching in to an apple.
"Ron! You just ate!" Hermione cried.
"I'm hungry." The three all rolled their eyes and then Rose looked at her parents.
"Two? Really?" She batted her brown eyes at her mother this time, and she smiled.
"I was thinking more like four," Hermione said, and Ron shrugged.
"I won't even be here, so I don't care."
"Wait, where will you be?" Rose looked to her father, questioningly.
"Keeping Hugo out of your hair," he nodded, banishing the apple core to the bin. Then he leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on his head. Rose smiled at his easy demeanour. That's so dad.
"So, who would you like to invite?" Hermione asked, and Rose straightened up and began listing names, ticking them off on her fingers as she named her four best friends.
"Marinda, Lola, Lora, and Kendal." The response was automatic, and she was glad her mother had said four and not three. She wouldn't have known who to cut out.
"Okay," Hermione scribbled on the pad of paper, "and Lily," she added as an afterthought.
"Wait! What?" Rose screeched. Then she winced. She had been doing that a lot since she'd returned home from school. "Why is Lily coming?" she asked in a quieter voice. "She is barely fourteen!"
"Your mum and I talked with Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry," Ron explained to his daughter's pained face. "We all agreed that while you girls get together for your birthday, we're going to get the boys together for a party of our own. We didn't want Lily to feel out of place."
"Oh please," Rose scoffed. "Aunt Ginny is a self-proclaimed tom boy, what with growing up with seven older brothers and all, not to mention the professional Quidditch career. Lily is exactly like her. It's like five boys living over in that house. Well, two boys that get their lady time once a month and get moody and hormonal, which pretty much describes teenage boys, so the only normal one is Uncle Harry, and, I mean, he's an Auror, Head of the Department, so how normal can he be…what was my point again?"
"You were upset because Lily will be at your party." Hermione raised her eyebrows at her daughter.
"Oh, yeah. Whatever. I'm over it. What's next?"
Ron rolled his eyes to the ceiling, muttering, "Teenagers," while Hermione giggled behind her hand. She tried to turn the giggle into a cough, which only served to make Rose laugh when she actually did start coughing.
"Games? Food? Entertainment?" Hermione swallowed hard, trying to catch her breath while Ron spoke.
"Well, I had this dream," Rose's eyes brightened. "The five of us-well, six now, with Lily-would play games like spin the wand, and seven minutes in heaven, and even though I would have to snog a girl, it would be okay, because they'd be my best friends…well, except for Lily, because that would be gross. She could watch. And keep track of the time."
Ron looked horrified. Hermione looked amused. Rose held off her laughter for as long as she could, her expression dead serious until her father started opening and closing his mouth looking like a fish out of water.
"She's joking, Ron," Hermione insisted, and then turned to Rose. "You were joking, right, Rose?"
"Of course, mum. Nothing wrong with lesbianism, or anything, but I am definitely not one."
Ron stood, shoving his chair backwards. "I think you girls can handle this. I think I will go watch the telly with Hugo."
The girls watched Ron hurry out of the room, and then took a moment to laugh at his expense. "Okay," Hermione cleared her throat. "Back to business. What did you want to do for your magical, wonderful sweet sixteen birthday party?"
"Well," Rose sat up straight, tucking her long hair behind her ears. "I was thinking we could have everyone come over around seven or whenever. Order pizza. Watch movies. I don't know, whatever we want. General girl mischief. Braid hair. Gossip. Then, maybe, in the morning we could go over to Grandmum Weasley's and have lunch and play in the lake. Do you think Grandmum would be okay with that?"
"I think," Hermione put down her pen and took her daughter's hand. "That your Grandmum would love that."
"I know, right? Especially since she's always complaining that we never visit enough. And I figure the girls can just floo home from there. Except for Marinda."
"Ah, yes. Marinda. I suppose your father or I will have to go pick her up?"
"It's not her fault her mum's a muggle and they live in a tiny house with central heating and no fireplace." Rose pointed out, using the same argument she'd used every summer since she and Marinda had become friends.
"You are right, of course. For the, what? Fifth time is it?"
"Eh, who's counting?"
June 21st 2022
"Oh, Mum, please?" Rose held up a deck of muggle Tarot Cards that Hermione found similar to the ones Professor Trelawney had used during Hermione's stint as a Divination student in her third year. She eyed Ginny in hope of some help, but Ginny rarely entered a muggle shop, and she and Lily were pointing at things excitedly, and generally making a spectacle of them all.
"Okay," Hermione conceded. Rose smiled widely, and put the cards in the basket Hermione was carrying. "What about this?" She nodded to a long thin box with a picture and black writing.
"What's a Ouiji board?" Rose asked, but the question fell on deaf ears, as Hermione was reading the back of the box.
"It's pronounced wee-gee," Hermione informed her eldest. "It supposedly helps you channel and talk to spirits."
"Cool!" Lily yelled, announcing her and Ginny's return. Lily was the spitting image of her mother, with long, darker red hair and brown eyes. "I'm so excited. I've never been to a sleep over with people other than family."
"Remember those days with Victoire? When she used to make us sit still while her and Dominique braided our hair and gossiped over all of the hot blokes?" Rose reminisced.
"We were the first to know that she fancied Teddy," Lily told the adults matter-of-factly.
"What's next on the list?"
"Just snacks and party favours." Hermione crossed off the list as the quartet made their way to the registers to be rung up.
"Lily and I need to go bathing suit shopping," said Rose. "My old one has become a bit revealing since my last growth spurt." Hermione sighed, but nodded. It was true that it had been a while since Rose's last bathing suit purchase. She'd worn last years' suit last year.
"Okay. And Lily doesn't need a new one. She can have your old one." Ginny grew up without a lot of money and free flowing funds, and, though she had money, she tried to raise her kids with the same mindset: money doesn't grow on trees and to work hard and spend wisely.
"That's not possible," Lily told her mother as Hermione was rung up. Ginny looked at her questioningly and Rose turned to them.
"Come on, Aunt Ginny. Look at Lily, and then look at me. Lily's boobs are way bigger than mine. And her hips are wider, too." Ginny chuckled and nodded in agreement.
"Thanks for calling me a fat ass!" Lily pouted.
"I'm not!" Rose insisted, immediately cringing at offending her favourite girl cousin. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that you are curvier than me. I'm a stick and flat-chested-"
"I know, I'm just messing you around Rosie!" Rose glared at Lily as they left the store. They all climbed into Hermione's car and were then on their way to their next stop.
"Ooh, I need to ring Harry and remind him to start cooking supper. He and the boys are probably having one helluva Quidditch match," said Ginny.
"I heard George was taking the day off and he and Fred were going over, too," Hermione added, signalling, and then making a left turn.
"Did you hear about George and Gina?" Ginny leaned over to gossip with her sister-in-law without the threat of being overheard by the younger girls.
"So, this is going to be a rocking party," Lily giggled to Rose. "Too bad there's not going to be any boys there. Mum said Uncle Ron threw a fit when you asked."
"Of course. Dad's a tad overprotective." Rose leaned forward to try and get a glimpse of the conversation about Uncle George and his flavour of the week. Ever since he and Angelina had called it quits, he'd been quite the playboy.
"Well, I can't wait to play that wee-gee thing. And watch scary movies and eat popcorn…" Rose zoned her out and trained one ear on the conversation in front of her.
"…went to her flat and she was having it off with another man. Turns out she'd been dating both of them. George didn't really seem to care, though. They'd only been dating for, like, three weeks or something. He said she wasn't that great of a shag," Ginny laughed. Hermione looked horrified.
"He had already slept with her after just three weeks?" she gasped.
"Oh, honey, I'm sure he slept with her on the first date. That's just the kind of women he likes, you know that. Curvy and slutty. No wonder none of them work out," Ginny laughed. "But no sleepovers when Fred's there."
"At least he's still got his priorities straight where Fred's concerned."
And then, the conversation was over and the only thing filling the car was the soft music of the radio. Soft jazzy music that Hermione liked is what Rose had to endure every car trip. Lily had realized that Rose was ignoring her and had turned to stare out of the window at the passing scenery.
"Okay," said Hermione, cutting through the silence after nearly ten minutes. "Snacks can wait until the day before the party. Now all we need are decorations and your swim suits."
"Mum," Rose whined, becoming suddenly irritated and grumpy. "Can we please save this for another day? I'm really tired."
Hermione sighed. "Okay. We can go to Diagon Alley tomorrow after I get off work. Take a nap when we get back to Aunt Ginny's, okay? I can't deal with you grumpy," she added the last part so that only she and Ginny heard. Rose wouldn't have noticed anyway, she was still digesting the previous comment.
"Why are we going over there?" said Rose.
"Ginny invited us to stay for dinner. You haven't seen James or Al in a week!" Hermione caught her daughter's eye in the rear view mirror.
"Ugh," Rose crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine."
Of course Harry hadn't started dinner by the time they arrived at Ginny's house. He was still out in the back on the makeshift Quidditch pitch playing with the boys.
Ginny entered the house first, and when Rose walked in to the twostory home, she immediately relaxed. She had spent so much time at that house, it felt like a second home to her. She found her favourite cousin, Albus Severus, or Al for short, lounging on a sofa in the sitting room, a book on his lap, his glasses sliding down the length of his nose.
"Hey Al," Rose greeted, picking up Albus's feet and moving them to the floor to give herself room to sit.
"Hey yourself, brat," Albus teased, sticking out his tongue at her and closing his book. Rose caught a glimpse of the title and rolled her eyes.
"I swear you were born to the wrong Weasley," she giggled. Albus's eyes grew wide and he pushed his thin, wire-framed glasses up his nose.
"What have they told you?" the two best friends laughed over their private joke for a moment before Albus sat up and moved his copy of Hogwarts: A Revised History to the coffee table.
"So," Albus leaned in close to her so they wouldn't be overheard. "I got an owl from Scor today," he muttered, referring to Scorpius Malfoy, Rose's boyfriend. "He sent me a letter for you."
"Can I have it?" Rose asked, excitedly. She nearly tackled her cousin with the news that her secret boyfriend had written to her. In fact, Albus was her only cousin who knew about them. He had befriended Scorpius first and deemed him good enough for Rose when she'd shared her feelings for him after Christmas Holidays during fifth year.
"That depends," Albus said slyly. "What's in it for me?"
"Oh, you're infuriating!" She cried and then bit her lip in thought. "I can give you the invite list to my party," she smiled. Albus' brows furrowed.
"What do I care who you're inviting anyway? Besides, I already know. Even if Uncle Ron said you could only invite two people, you'd talk your way in to inviting your four best friends by your great powers of negotiation. Then your mum would force you to invite Lily, and therefore your four bestest friends plus close girl cousin will be the ones attending your little slumber party. Some sweet sixteen."
"It may not be the ideal Sweet Sixteen party, but it's something. What are you going to do for yours then?" She asked, referring to his birthday in early August.
"Nothing. Boys don't care about birthday parties past the age of, like, ten when it's no longer fun for your mum to plan a rousing round of Ghoul, Ghoul, Gnome or Pin the Tail on the Thestral. Besides, I'm happy enough with Grandmum's monthly birthday dinner."
Every month Grandmum Weasley made a special dinner to celebrate everyone's birthday for that month. It just so happened that all of the Hogwarts aged children would celebrate their birthdays with a big feast a few days before they were to go back to school, since so many of their birthdays were spent at Hogwarts.
"Okay, so sue me, I'm a girl. I like to have birthday parties and get treated special. I'm entitled."
"True, but, alas, I do not care who got an invite to your stupid girly party. You'll have to come up with something better to get that letter."
"Well if you're so clever, then you know that in attendance to my, as you put it, 'stupid, girly party,' will be one Miss Marinda Rosaline Vandervent. And, since you're so clever, you'll note that Miss Marinda Rosaline Vandervent will have to get to the party in some way other than floo because of her fireplace issue slash muggle parents issue, which will happen to entail traveling by automobile on the day before the party. And because of the fact that I know of your cute little school boy crush on one Miss Marinda Rosaline Vandervent, you may want to be in attendance of said automobile ride if you want to see her at all this summer. Now, may I have the letter or not?"
Albus grudgingly opened the book he'd been reading to someplace near the middle and pulled out a blank white envelope. He almost handed it to her, but pulled it back at the last second.
"I get backsies?" Albus bargained. Rose rolled her eyes and nodded. Albus handed her the envelope, a smile gracing his tanned face.
"Thanks. So, why aren't you outside playing Quidditch with the rest of the boys?" She wondered, tucking the letter safely into the back pocket of her denim shorts.
"Uncle George is here with Fred and the teams would've been uneven," Albus pointed out.
"Speaking of," Rose said out of the corner of her mouth as a two of her male cousins and her brother waltzed into the room, looking sweaty and dirty and downright gross. "Ew, James!" She yelled when James plopped himself on the couch next to her and pulled her into a sweaty, one-armed hug.
"Cheer up, Rosie. It's almost your birthday! And I know exactly what I'm going to get you, too!" he looked mischievous and Rose was immediately worried.
"The only thing I want from you," she started primly, reminding them all of Hermione, "is for you boys to stay far away from my party." She gave them all a look that told them she was serious and then walked out of the room and into the large kitchen.
"Happy Birthday Rosie Posie!" George was standing in the middle of the kitchen, his arms held out to her. She hugged him briefly, smiling up into his happy face.
"It's not my birthday yet, Uncle George," she reminded him sweetly. She was so sweet to her uncles, it could give someone a toothache.
"Close enough," George waved her off, and then turned and placed a loud, sloppy kiss against Ginny's cheek. "I've got to be off dear sister," he told her, giving Hermione a hug.
"Awe. Won't you and Fred stay for dinner?" Ginny turned back to the stove and stirred something in a large pot. "We're having Beef Stew. Your favourite!"
"Sorry, Ginny-bean. I've got to get Fred over to Angelina's and then I have a date. I will be by for lunch tomorrow for leftovers."
"If you can pull yourself away from her," Ron muttered under his breath, earning himself a slap on the chest from Hermione. He looked at her and mouthed 'what?'
"There are children in the room, Ronald!" Rose rolled her eyes.
"Honestly, mum. Even Lily is old enough to realize – " Rose was cut off when George cleared his throat.
"And that's my cue to exit! Goodnight Weasleys and Potters. See you soon!"
"That man needs to find a good woman and settle down," Ginny muttered, adding parsley to the stew. She then turned to her daughter and gave her a look. "Lily, please collect your brothers and Hugo and tell them to wash up, dinner's in five minutes." Her gaze shifted to Rose. "Will you please help me set the table?"
That had always been her job at the Potter household whenever she was visiting for dinner. Not because she wanted to. No, she felt envious of her cousins and brother, who were allowed to watch telly or play James' video games while the girls were in the kitchen. In fact, Rose decided, it was a bit sexist of her mother and aunt to assume that she would rather be in the kitchen.
"So, who won the Quidditch?" Rose asked her dad and uncle as she grabbed soup bowls from Ginny's china dresser. She went around the circular table in the kitchen, placing nine bowls around the large table.
"We did, of course," Harry cried, triumphantly. The pride and mocking in his voice as he smiled smugly at Ron. "James, me, and Fred."
"Of course you won! James and Fred are on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts. I was stuck with George, the lump who never exercises, and Hugo. Hugo's a decent player, I'll give you that, but George's beating skills have severely diminished since his Hogwarts days."
Leaving her dad and uncle arguing over the match, she turned back to her aunt. Rose slid open the drawer of the dresser containing the silver and pulled out nine large soup spoons.
"Aunt Ginny," she said in her sugary-sweet-get-what-I-want tone she used on her aunts and uncles. "Is it okay if Al comes with me and dad on Thursday to pick up Marinda?" Her brown eyes blinked hopefully at her aunt.
"If Al wants to go, I suppose that's okay." Ginny levitated the pot to the table and began ladling the stew into the bowls.
"Of course he wants to go. She's his best friend." Harry cut in, his conversation with Ron about Quidditch finished. "Thanks, Love," he mumbled when Ginny served him his stew. "It's rather odd, that. Having a girl for a best mate," then his eyes shot to Hermione. "No offence, 'Mione."
Hermione just smiled, knowingly. "It's okay, Harry. Besides, I think he's rather…smitten with that girl."
Rose's eyes widened when her mother shot her a winning smile. She gave her a look that said 'mothers know best' and Rose's eyebrows rose to her hairline. Obviously not, she giggled to herself, thinking about her secret boyfriend. She tucked into her stew, and had another thought. What if she does know about me and Scorpius?
Hermione kept giving her that same smile all throughout dinner.