FYI: Voldermortist was the actual name of a rumored sorcerer from thousands of years ago! He was one of the reasons JK named Voldemort, well Voldemort! This chapter was written two years ago, when I was 12 years old. My writing style has changed A LOT since then, but I really wanted to resurrect this. Review if you're interested in seeing it continue!
Little six year old Rosie stumbled around the main room of the Ravenclaw castle, her long, midnight blue dress tripping her as she walked over it with her tiny feet. She almost fell face first onto the luxurious intricately designed rug. If it weren't for her father she would have.
The handsome man saw his daughter falling so he rushed over and scooped her up in his arms. She sat there comfortably twirling her long, black braid. He tickled her chin.
"Little miss Rowena," he said lovingly. She giggled. "We wouldn't want you to break that beautiful face now would we?"
"No Father." said little Rosie, smiling. "No we would not, but why must you call me Ro, Ro, Rowena?" She stuttered on the big word.
"Now sweetheart, Rosie's a nice name, but you know how your Mother feels about it." he said, suddenly stern. "Rowena's much better for a smart young lady like you. There's already big plans for your future as a sorcerer seamstress," he caught sight of the quivering pout on the small girl's face, "Come now, try having fun with what you've got instead of wishing for what you haven't."
The girls frown softened and soon she was laughing again, being spun around by her father and getting piggybacks around the giant, lit castle.
"Rowena!" called a shrill voice from the majestic staircase. "Do you really think that's ladylike behaviour? And Wulfric? Letting her! Rowena Posie Ravenclaw get down here this instant!"
Rosie gently slipped off her father's broad back, her bottom lip quivering. She slumped her shoulders, touched her chin to her chest, let her arms hang limply at her sides and walked as slowly as she dared towards her mother.
When she got there she looked back at her father, still standing on the bronze, sweeping staircase. He saw Rowena's big light blue eyes pleading for help.
"Come now Laurena, she's just a little girl, no need to worry about ladylike behaviour at her age."
As she looked into her husband's deep brown eyes Laurena Ravenclaw's heart softened.
"Oh Rowena, no need to look so grim. I am just worried about your future. Your actions determined your career. You have to behave more like a little lady than a little climbing bat."
The little witch looked up at her mother's face as her own expression changed from cowardice to determination. She gave a little nod and walked briskly up the bronze stairs, passing her father and going all the way up to her bedchamber.
The next few years went by in a timely fashion; Rosie had good times with her Mother and Father and even donned a few piggybacks when Laurena wasn't looking. Her parents still refused to call her Rosie, a name of her own creation merging her first name "Rowena" and he middle name "Posie". They insisted that Rowena sounded much smarter for a girl destined to be a sorcerer seamstress, saying that the money was all in Invisibility Cloaks lately.
And oh was Rosie smart. She attended her Transfiguring and Charms lessons, learned about magical plants, how to brew potions, and studied the ruins and symbols of the time with her tutors regularly and faithfully. All her teachers commented that she was highly gifted. She even excelled at literature, maths, art, and music which were the social lessons she was enrolled in. The Ravenclaws were high-class, and Rowena was expected to be a well rounded, perfect, social butterfly.
Despite their seemingly too high expectations, Rowena Ravenclaw knew that her Mother and Father would both always be there for her. Those were her thoughts until she was eight years old. In Rosie's eighth year of life everything would change.
* * *
"Let's play!"
"Concentration!"
"No repeats!"
"Or hesitations!"
"I'll go first!"
"I'll go second!"
"Subject is!"
"Dragons!"
"Welsh Green!"
"Chinese Fireball!"
"Hungarian Horntail!"
"Norwegian Ridgeback!"
On the soft grass in front of Slytherin castle Rosie was playing a clapping game with her best friend Helga Hufflepuff. Their other best friends Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin were playing Quidditch above them. They made sure to dodge the apples they were using instead of the Quaffle, Bludgers, and the Golden Snidget. Those birds were very hard to capture and not native to Europe.
The friends could usually be seen on summer afternoons on the lawns of their neighbouring castles playing games like these. Today they were at Sal's.
Salazar's father had been away for years, he couldn't handle living in the neighbourhood where there were muggles not far away. He didn't like muggles. Not at all. But Sal still loved him.
It was a peaceful day. The kind that you would never think anything could go wrong in. And most people know that if you think nothing can go wrong, it really means everything can go wrong. But Godric, Rosie, Helga, and Sal didn't know that.
Mr Slytherin came back that day. And the first thing he did was charge at Rosie and her friends.
"Salazar! How can you be in the company of this blood traitor filth? How can you befriend these muggle lovers?" He drew his wand and pointed it at Sal, Godric leaped in front of him!
"If you're going to kill Sal you're going to have to kill me first!" he said bravely. Helga gasped and Rosie could feel herself trembling. She had never met Mr Slytherin. Her parents always talked about him like he was mad. Said he couldn't take living in close proximity to muggles, mudbloods he called them. Her mother said Wyona, Salazars mother, was very brave to go on without her husband. She said it would be one of the hardest things a woman could do.
"Oh young Gryffindor, do you really think I would kill my own son? No I just want to speak to him, just to talk to him," his voice was a hiss, barely louder than a whisper.
At that moment Rowena's father, Wulfric, ran fast as a bullet towards the kids.
"Salazar! How dare you call my daughter and her friend's blood traitors! How dare you brandish your wand at your own son?" There was a fierce look in his eyes, he wasn't the soft man Rosie had seen many times before, he was a soldier.
"How dare I? How dare I stand up for purebloods? How dare I want to rid the world of muggle filth? It is not hard. But if you want me to brandish my wand at someone other than Salazar, maybe, maybe it should be you!"
Before any of them had a chance to do anything, Voldermortist Slytherin had turned on Wulfric Ravenclaw, Wulfric looked as if about to say one final word, but he couldn't.
"iAvada Kedavra/i!" Voldermortist's scream mingled with the others, but none was as loud as Rosie's.
Without thinking she ran towards her Father's stiff form, lying on the dirt, his warm brown eyes unseeing, and, for once, cold, and his mind unknowing that his only daughter was weeping above him.
Voldermortist seemed finally aware of what he had done and aware that Rosie's mother, Helga, and Godric's parents, and his wife were know emerging from their castles, wands raised and ready.
The First Dark Lord grabbed his son and pulled him aside, hissing at him in a strange language that Rosie didn't understand. Finally when the adults were close Voldemortis thrust a piece of parchment into Sal's hand and said:
"This will not be the last of me! I will rid the world of the filth that don't deserve to know magic and the muggles who deserve to be our slaves!" With a look of fierce evil in his red eves he disapperated. But Rosie didn't pay much attention to this. Her tear streaked face was glued to her father's shell.
I hope you enjoyed! I'll continue this if anyone wants it to be continued…you'll have to review to let me know. I have big plans for this…
