Dreams are illustrations... from the book your soul is writing about you. Marsha Norman

London, 1809

"What a crush," Lady Lily Finnigan said fanning herself with an elaborate blue and gold fan that matched her evening gown. Rose looked around with interest. It was the third ball of the Season and the ballroom at the Marlborough House was packed. There were giggling chits dressed to perfection enjoying their first Season. And suitors snatching them up for dances. "Shall we go for some lemonade?"

"I'd prefer a brandy," Rose said behind her hand causing Lily to laugh prettily and wave her fan at her. "A glass of champagne then." Lady Lily took her by the hand and led her toward the refreshments room. Rose took a deep breath as they wound through people. She really detested the crowds, but as the only granddaughter of Viscount Ottery, an old friend of Duke and Duchess of Marlborough, who was both of age and unwed, Rose was expected in attendance. She stared at her feet as Lily led her through the crowds. She counted the steps that her pearl satin slippers made across the floor. Twenty-eight, twenty-nine…

And Lily stopped suddenly. Rose nearly ran into the back of her. They couldn't already be at the refreshments room. She dared to look up and spotted her cousin James grinning down at her. "If it isn't my dear Miss Weasley," he said with a flourish, bowing over her hand.

"My Lord," Rose said with a smile.

"You look lovely tonight. As do you, dear Sister," he addressed Lily. "I dare say, Rosie, you'll be fighting them off with a stick."

Rose blushed, "I'll be doing no such thing, Cousin. I have no wish to fight anyone with a stick-- particularly not a London dandy."

James raised his eyebrows. "You prefer a country man?"

"I prefer no man," she replied quickly. "I am satisfied with my charity."

"And your studies," Hugo, her brother joined the conversation.

"It is such a shame that a beautiful face should be buried in a musty book so often where it cannot be appreciated," Lord James replied.

"Stuff and bother!" Rose mumbled to herself. If she hadn't heard that a hundred times since she turned fourteen, she'd eat her gloves.

Lady Lily swatted James with her fan. "Enough dear brother, you are upsetting her. If Rosie wants to be a spinster, it is her prerogative and no one should have a say in it but Rosie herself."

With a huff, Rose turned to walk away. She collided with a solid chest wrapped in black. "Oh my," she said. "I apologize for my clumsiness…" she curtsied and glanced up to meet a pair of cool gray eyes. His 

collar points were at the height of fashion, and his cravat was tied perfectly, yet she did not recognize the gentleman.

"It is of no consequence," he waved a hand at her. His voice was smooth and deep. Caressing. It brought gooseflesh to her arms "Miss…."

"Weasley," she said lowering her eyes.

"Ah, yes," he said with a smirk looking to her hair. Nearly all of the large Weasley family wore one shade of red or another. Rose's was a deep, almost crimson. "If you will excuse me, Miss Weasley?" He asked. Without waiting for an answer, he bowed and his long blond hair fell over his brow before he straightened to well over six feet and wove his way into the crush.

Rose stood frozen to the floor. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. She swallowed difficultly as her cousin James came around to her side. "Do you need refreshment?" he asked worriedly, wrapping her hand around his arm and leading her away from the crush. Rose nodded, not trusting her own voice. "I'm sorry I tease you so. I just want to see you happily settled."

"Like yourself?" she asked with a sidelong glance. It was a well known fact around the ton that James was a Rake. A rake he may be, but he was still her beloved cousin.

"It is different with me," James said catching a footman and taking two glasses of champagne. They seated themselves in an alcove to chat. "I am a man, an heir to the Potter fortune. Someday I will settle and have an heir of my own but for now…" he smiled lewdly.

"Dear cousin, your nighttime activities are of no interest to me. But I do wish to see you as happy as you wish to see me," Rose replied. "If we weren't related I'd reform you myself." She was jesting, of course. She could hardly think of her cousin, three years her senior, as anything more than the big brother he'd always acted.

James let out a hearty bellow of a laugh. "You, reform a scoundrel such as myself? You haven't the patience or the inclination to undertake such a task."

"It is true," Rose replied, "I haven't the patience for any man, rake or gentleman."

James tugged on a curl in her elaborate hairstyle, "It is all this red hair and Weasley blood."

"Might I remind you that you have the same blood running through your veins, My Lord?"

"You might. But look where it has gotten me," he pointed to a scar that sliced his right eyebrow.

Rose laughed. "Fighting in gentlemen's clubs. I see your point."

"Ah, speaking of rakes and scoundrels," James said with a nod. Rose looked up and met the same pair of cool gray eyes from earlier. He was staring at her. Discretely, Rose checked the cut of her bodice to make sure she had not fallen out of it. She sipped her drink to wet her suddenly parched mouth. Mon Dieu.



"Who is that?" she whispered to her cousin.

"That is Scorpius Malfoy, the elusive Duke of Bedford," James told her.

"I do not like the way he is looking at me," she lied. The truth was that under his gaze, she felt like she was on fire. Her skin heated and she cursed her tendency to blush at the drop of a feather.

"Nor do I," James scowled and drained his glass. "I am going to have a word with Malfoy."

Rose grabbed his arm, "Please no." He fixed her with a curious look. "It is of no matter how he looks at me, James. Just stay and chat with me until the dancing begins."

In a whoosh her breath came out when James relaxed his posture. Rose smoothed the creamy satin skirt of her empire gown and straightened the pink rose under her bosom. She would try to get some information about Lord Malfoy from her cousin. James seemed to know the man, and rose was intrigued by those eyes. They were still on her even as he chatted with a gentleman and his wife, unnerving her. The hair on her neck stood on end as she tried to ignore the alien feelings his watch was evoking.

"You act as if you know quite a bit about this Lord Malfoy, are you well acquainted?" she fixed him with a shrewd gaze.

James seemed to squirm a little, "Yes, we are acquainted, but not well. We met at Oxford. I've heard he's only just returned to London today."

"He is your age, then?"

"No, he is your age. Perhaps a year your senior," James said frowning. "He came into his title at a young age when his father died."

"How sad," Rose said.

"Indeed," James replied, still frowning at her. "Look at the chits fluttering around him."

Amused, Rose glanced at him, "Are you jealous, my dear? Last night, they were all tittering around you."

Disregarding her comment, James spoke, "Malfoy is quite a well known scoundrel at Oxford, Rose. Please don't get any of your philanthropic ideas about adopting the stray. He is one of the wealthiest men in London and doesn't need your kindness."

A withering glance from Rose had James flinching. "He is not a puppy, My Lord." More a wolf, she added silently. "And every living creature can benefit from the kindness of another."

"Rose," he warned blackly.

"Your warning will not go unheeded, dear Cousin. I shall be the definition of propriety," she said.

James sighed. "It is all I can ask for." The music started and he offered her his arm. "May I have the first dance?" Rose grinned at him and let James lead her to the dance floor. They bowed to each other and 

the dance began. She twirled and spun, paying no attention to the steps that were as ingrained as breathing in her mind. She found herself partnered with Lady Lily's husband for a moment.

"Good evening Miss Weasley," he said with a smile. He was a tall man, and a little on the plump side. His sandy colored hair was long and pulled back. He was jovial and everything she'd ever expected for her dearest cousin. He treated Lady Lily like a queen.

"Good evening to you as well, Viscount," she said before she was passed back to James. When the song ended, Rose curtsied to her cousin and he kissed her hand.

"Remember what I said, Rosie. "

She nodded, "I will remember what you have said to me." She searched the room for her cousin Fred's ginger hair. Rose had enough male cousins and uncles that she never had to dance with anyone outside her family unless she wished—which was rarely.

"Miss Weasley," a male voice said in her ear. It was a smooth, silky voice that she recognized all too well.

"Mr. Smith," Rose curtsied to him, "How do you do?" Her skin crawled as he leered at her. He had been chasing her skirt for the past two Seasons, and Rose had no desire to let him catch it.

"It is a fine evening," he said as if it answered her inquiry. "You are radiant as ever, my darling."

"Refrain yourself, Lord Smith!" she reprimanded him forcefully, two spots of color coming to life on her cheeks. Rose checked her temper to keep from leaving a hand print on his ruddy cheek. "I am not your darling! I will not be addressed as such." She glanced around frantically looking for someone to save her from the wretch, but came up empty.

"Neither here, nor there," Smith said as if he knew something she did not. Glancing down her bodice, he smirked. "Save the first waltz for me." He snatched her gloved hand up and placed a sloppy kiss on it. Rose's stomach turned at the thought of his lips, his hands, anything of his, ever touching her skin.

"I cannot," Rose replied coolly. "My dances are all promised." Her mind was rapidly cataloging all her male acquaintances that she could dance with instead of Mr. Smith. Her cousins for the country dances, Lord Longbottom and her cousin Lord Potter would both help her find suitable partners for the waltzes.

The tall man glowered at her. He was cold and ruthless she'd been told. And he'd asked for her hand in marriage two Season's past. Her father would never allow her to marry someone of Smith's temperament, thank the Lord. He snorted. "I will believe it when I see it."

"Miss Weasley," a voice said from just over her shoulder. "I believe you promised me this dance, as well as the first waltz."

Without turning to look at him, she knew who was standing over her shoulder. The look on Smith's face said volumes, as did the awareness humming along her skin. She did not even care that they had only 

met once and it was not exactly proper to dance with one of such little acquaintance more than once in an evening. He'd rescued her from the lecherous Smith.

Lifting her chin a fraction of an inch, she turned to her rescuer, "I believe you are correct, Your Grace."

When Lord Malfoy offered her his arm, she hesitantly took it. The shock the sent her reeling as her gloved hand curled around his bicep made her all but faint. His step faltered for a moment, but then he continued to the dance floor. "Thank you," Rose whispered. They took their positions facing one another and began to dance. They linked arms and twirled in a circle. Every time they touched, a new jolt of electricity shocked her to her very core. She was passed down the line and met her cousin James.

"What are you doing?" he hissed as they spun together. "I thought I told you…"

"He saved me from dancing a waltz with The Pig," she replied quickly. "I need you to discretely find me partners for the waltzes, save one. I've sworn my dances are promised." James nodded and passed her back to Lord Malfoy as the caller deemed.

He took her about the waist and spun once and then let go. Their eyes met, a clash of brown and gray. A slow smile turned his lips and she felt her knees going weak. She concentrated on her breathing and recited a hymn in her head.

As the dance ended, they clapped politely and he bowed to her. "Thank you for this dance Miss Weasley." He bowed his head over her hand and kissed her knuckles. Flames raced over her body. It was like a wild fire spreading through her, completely natural, wild and untamed. Her mind went blank. "I look forward to our waltz." He squeezed her hand gently and left her standing there, agape.

"Just the beauty I've been looking for," her best friend Godric Longbottom said from beside her, "I hear you have yourself in a predicament. Accompany me to the balcony and we shall see if we can remedy your situation."

As Godric led Rose to the French doors that opened to the terrace, cool gray eyes met her line of vision and her heart stopped in her chest. "Merde", she cursed. Godric smiled knowingly.

"Miss Weasley!" A shrill voice spoke alarmingly close to her. "Well, I never! Miss Weasley, wake up!"

Rose jumped awake with a start, her book dropping to the floor in front of her. Her heart was firing rapidly against her ribcage. She blinked taking stock of her surroundings. The library. She was in Hogwarts' library. Madam Wellington was staring down at her through thick spectacles, her eyes larger than they should be.

"Oh my," Rose said feeling disoriented. The sky outside had grown dark and the constant drizzle of November had turned to a thundering rain. She glanced down at the novel her mother had sent to her and felt an odd sensation creeping through her.

"It is past curfew, Miss Weasley," the librarian informed her shrewdly, "I called out nearly an hour ago.



"I must have fallen asleep," Rose said blinking again. Then a sinking feeling hit the pit of her stomach, it was Saturday and as Head Girl, she was supposed to be doing rounds with her cousin Albus Potter. "I'm sorry Madam Wellington, I didn't realize how tired I was." Rose bit back a yawn and stood.

"You had better run back to your dormitory now."

"Yes Madam," Rose said hurrying to gather her bag and her book. As she headed back to Gryffindor Tower, she tried to recall her dream the best she could. Only bits and pieces floated into her conscious mind: her cousins, a cream colored gown with pale pink roses and that expression—haunting gray eyes and an unforgettable seductive smile.

A/N :
I have been wanting so badly to write a piece set in a different time. Time travel is too sticky and complicated for my liking, so this is my answer. As of right now, it is set to be three chapters long, but that may change. Updates should come once every week to two weeks, as real life often gets in the way of my writing ;) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy.