A/n: Hello, Hola, Hi, New Fic - Next Generation - Features everyone - Rose X Scorpius - other pairings - yeah. Enjoy. AND REVIEW.
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Angry. That's all she was, and for no reason. Ever since birth, she'd worn a perpetual scowl. It wasn't just a mask, though. It was who she was.
She threw her favourite toys out of the pram. For years, she'd resented the baby brother she'd always wanted. When she was lonely, upset and craved affection, she stood rigid and uncomfortable in her mother's hugs.
It wasn't that she was unhappy. She was very, very happy. It was that she was unsatisfied. Living peacefully in a quaint cottage with her family was not enough. Years spent scribbling out notes on creatures and potions in a Highland castle was not enough. The occasional trip to Australia to visit her grandparents was not enough. She was missing out on the adventures that her parents so often bragged about. She was missing out on the reams of knowledge that her relatives absorbed on their travels.
On this day, a week before she was due to start her fifth year at Hogwarts, she began the slow and turbulent process of turning that around.
Six o'clock in the morning. Out in the damp, chilly back garden of her childhood home, she walked as quietly as she could in her nightdress and clunky wellington boots to the very bottom of the lawn. In the shadow of a three tall pines sat a rickety old garden swing. She sat on it, not caring about her bum getting wet with dew. She glanced behind her at the house, making sure all the curtains were drawn.
Confident that she was safe, she reached inside her dressing gown pocket and pulled out a box of cigarettes.
Stupid muggle children think that smoking makes them look "cool".
Her mother's words from years ago echoed around in her mind whenever she extracted a cigarette and battered old zippo lighter.
Well, they're not. They're harmful, addictive and expensive.
The spongy tip was in her mouth. She flicked the zippo lighter open and ignited the flame.
Promise me, both of you, that you'll never start smoking.
Rose Weasley internally kicked herself when she hesitated. She immediately leant forward and dipped the cigarette in the silently burning flame. She sucked. Warmth filled her mouth.
"Ahem!"
Cigarette and lighter were lost in the long grass. She was standing up, fighting to hold her breath. She stared at her father.
"Just breathe it out, Rosie, I don't mind," he lied. She did as she was told anyway. Smoke swirled between them and was brushed away by the breeze.
Her father stood with a slight smirk on his face, his hands in his own dressing gown pockets.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" asked Rosie, crossing her arms. "Stop smiling."
Ron chuckled. "You're in a cheery mood today..."
Rosie scowled. "I'm not a morning person."
"You astonish me."
Rosie rolled her eyes. "Go on, get it over with."
"Get what over with?"
"The year-long lecture about the dangers of smoking you're about to start. I haven't got all day."
Her father smirked again. "Why, you got a hot date or something?"
She glared at her father, causing him to laugh. "I'm not gunna lecture you. That's your mother's job. I'm just here to back her up sometimes."
Rosie almost smiled. She looked down at the grass to conceal her face. She saw her cigarette singing the grass by her foot. She ran her boot over it, scraping it, extinguishing it.
"I actually came out here to give you this..."
Rosie looked up. From inside his pocket, Ron pulled out a creased envelope with a red Hogwarts seal on the flap.
Rosie said nothing. There was no point. Her father, to her irritation, probably already knew exactly what she was thinking.
"Looks like you take after your mother in more ways than one, Rosie Posy."
"Hey, you were a prefect too!"
"Yeah, but only 'cos I was Harry Potter's best friend! Your Mum was a prefect because she was bloody clever. Like you."
Rosie grimaced, suddenly awash with resentment. "Don't say that."
Her father rolled his eyes. "Come on, Rosie. You are clever. Just like-"
"Just like Mummy, yes, I know!" she snapped suddenly. "I wish people would stop saying that!"
Ron looked confused. "Who else keeps saying it?"
"Grandma Jean, Uncle Harry, Professor Slughorn, Professor Shacklebolt, everyone! I'm sick of it!"
"Rosie, why are you-?"
"Mummy gets annoyed with it too, all the time."
"No she-"
"YES SHE DOES!" Rosie shouted. "She hates me!"
In the distance, a crow cawed as it flew off. Her father looked deep in thought, almost hurt. He said nothing.
"Come on, Daddy, you know she hates me."
"She really doesn't, Rosie."
"Well she could've fooled me. She hates me and she doesn't do a bloody thing to hide it."
She stomped past him, avoiding his gaze, intent on getting up to her room to pack before her mother could grab her for a chat. That's the last thing she wanted.
"Don't you want this?" Ron called after her in a peculiar, restrained voice.
"What?" asked Rosie impatiently.
"Your prefect letter," he held it out to her. "If I was you, I'd want to show it off to all my friends."
Rosie snatched the letter and scowled. "I don't show off. That's Mummy's job."
She turned away from him and walked back up the lawn to the house, not looking at or focussing on anything as she traipsed through the kitchen, through the hallway, up the stairs, across the landing and into her bedroom.
She sat on her bed, staring at the envelope. It was lumpy. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for. She listened, hearing not a single stir in the house. It was odd that she couldn't hear her mother pottering around in the attic. Six years ago, she'd converted the dark rafters where she and Hugo used to play into her own private study, just days after a screaming row with Rosie about playing up there.
Rosie stood up and crossed her room over to the large window. Through the tips of the furthest-reaching branches of the birch tree below, she could see her parents talking. Her mother stood with her back to the house, already dressed in jeans and a jumper. Her father was smiling half-heartedly as he spoke to her, no doubt explaining about his encounter with their ferocious daughter. Rosie's cheeks flared as she watched her mother's head droop. Hermione Weasley stumbled forward into her husband's waiting arms. Her shoulders shook as he cradled her.
Rosie ripped open her envelope and tipped the contents into her hand. A gleaming silver badge fell into her palm. Prefect.
Back then, Rose Weasley was confident that she knew the difference between showing off and being very, very proud.
oOoOo
"No, Mum! Please, leave me alone!"
"We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way..."
"Please, Mum! I'm your son! Dad, tell her!"
"I'm sorry, James. Your mother's right. This is for your own good."
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Lily and Albus Potter stood cackling as their mother forcibly delved into James' jacket pockets and pulled out great handfuls of Instant Darkness Powder, Puking Pastilles, Howling Humbugs and Wasp Wafers.
"These are banned, James."
"I know," he grumbled, going bright red as schools peers and parents sniggered at the berated seventeen-year-old wizard with his mother.
"I thought you learned your lesson last year."
"I did!"
"Clearly not!"
"I wasn't going to sell them, Mum, honest! Fred told me to look after them for him!"
"Fred told you bugger all and you know it!"
James looked at the ground. Lily and Al were still red in the face from laughing. He had half a mind to wipe the smirks off their faces by telling their mother that her younger perfect angels had been regular customers of Fred and James, but he risked ruining his last year at school. She'd no doubt get Neville to spy on them for her, just like every single year that a new Potter joined. It was humiliating.
Luckily for him, they were then joined by his aunt and uncle, Hermione and Ron, and his cousins. They were just the people he wanted to see.
"Rose!" Harry exclaimed as they managed to squeeze through the hoards of bustling Hogwarts students and their parents. "Congratulations!"
"Thanks," said Rosie with a half-smile. "I'm not sure why they gave it to me, to be honest..."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous..." said Hermione with a smirk. "You got that badge because you're a perfect student. Stop being so modest!" she threw an arm around her daughter's shoulders, but was shrugged off. When Hermione saw that Rosie clearly didn't appreciate the joke, she looked hurt. "Sorry..."
"Cheer up, Rosie!" grinned James, knowing full well by her glare that she'd make his life a living hell for the entire train journey. "Could be worse! Look at Al and me. Neither of us are prefects! The sons of one of the most powerful wizards in history without any of the perks!"
Ginny raised an eyebrow at her son. "Well, let me know next time you defeat the most evil wizard in history and then I'll start being nicer to you. Okay?"
"Seriously, Rosie..." continued James, ignoring his mother. Rosie looked at her cousin intensely, startled by his vaguely serious gaze. It was a rare sight. "First prefect in our family since Mum. That's quite cool, you have to admit."
"I'm not the first. Dominique's a prefect too," said Rosie matter-of-factly.
Behind her, Ron snorted. "Of course Dominique's a prefect..."
Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, and he stopped.
"I don't mind really," shrugged Rosie. "We get to sit in the prefects' carriage. That's five hours extra away from Louis before term starts."
The family made sounds of agreement and understanding. All except Hugo, who always kept silent whenever Louis was discussed. They'd been lumped together as companions since the day they were both born. They'd fallen into an unlikely friendship.
The whistle blew, and the crowd fell into action. Trunks were passed between people towards the train and relatives leaned in for last-minute kisses.
As Lily and Al hugged their mother and father goodbye, James watched Rosie with curiosity. He knew she'd been a bit odd about her mother for a while now, but today she acted as though she was allergic to her...
"Can I have a hug?" asked Hermione tentatively as Ron hugged Hugo. Rosie said nothing. She just stepped into her mother's waiting arms and clenched her jaw. Hermione's hug was warm and desperate.
"I love you," she told her daughter. James could've sworn he saw a flicker of guilt on Rosie's face.
"Please don't smoke anymore..." begged Hermione quietly. James tried not to react. When Rosie wrenched herself from her mother's tight grip, James looked sharply away and launched himself at his mother.
"Whoa, there, child! I'm not dying!"
"Er, yeah, sorry..." he mumbled, giving his mum a quick hug.
"Be good. Please."
"I will."
"Love you."
"Love you too, Mum. Lots."
He kissed her head. He was tall enough to do that now.
Ginny pulled away from her son and gave him a brief watery smile before blinking her tears back.
"Go on," she told him. "Get on that train before I vomit. Go on."
James raised an eyebrow at his mother. "You're the one who's close to tears..."
"You're lying. Go on, sod off. Leave your poor old mum at home alone for another three months..."
"Eh, you've got Dad."
"Don't bloody remind me..." despite her words, she leaned in to her husband, who'd heard their exchange. He put an arm around his wife and grinned.
Rose, Hugo, James, Al and Lily all clambered onto the train and were fortunate enough to squeeze into the closest compartment on the train, flinging their bags onto the top compartments and pressing their noses against the window.
"See you at Christmas, you lot!" called Harry. "Lily, don't kill anyone!"
The teenagers laughed and waved as the train wheezed into life. Their parents grew smaller and smaller as the train pulled away.
"So, Rosie..." began James, sitting down and grinning smugly. "You smoke now?"
Ignoring her brother's and cousins exclamations of shock and disapproval, she grabbed her bag and disappeared into the corridor in search of the prefects' carriage.
oOo
A/N: That was fun!
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Nel X