Rosalie awoke abruptly with a gasp, her warm chocolate eyes rapidly scanning the surroundings of the cramped bedroom of 4 Privet Drive. Her chest heaved up and down as she took deep breaths, attempting to reclaim a normal respiratory pattern. It was all a dream. A nightmare, nothing more.
One that you've experienced one too many times, her subconscious obnoxiously reminded.
Her hands ran down her face in exhaustion before she glanced behind her shoulder at the shifting figure lying beside her on the cramped bed. Her brother Harry grumbled, lines of unrest forming on his forehead where he clutched his searing lightning bolt scar. His eyes were scrunched together, as if fighting off pain. After a few seconds, he reached over to grab his glasses and put them on. His emerald eyes flickered from the table, to the ceiling, and then finally took notice of his awake sister.
"Bad dream?"
Rosalie nodded, sitting up on the bed and combing her fingers through her messy hair. "Again." She looked down at her brother, scanning his features with a sigh. He looked nothing like the little kid she'd seen behind her eyelids just moments ago from three years back. He had grown into a chivalrous and handsome boy since then, yet it had all seemed as if it were yesterday. He was taller than she was, yet still had a youthful gleam to his features. His raven black hair was grown out to a disheveled mess. Day by day he resembled James Potter more.
"You haven't had visions about any of this? A little glimpse?"
She shook her head. "No, nothing at all. I don't understand - by this time I should have seen something, anything, especially with the recurring dreams, the Riddle House especially... I always had them before, and now it's as if they just - stopped."
"If only I knew what it was," Harry mumbled with a frown.
"That makes two of us."
As siblings living isolated in a tiny bedroom with their uncaring aunt and uncle who were repulsed by the idea of magic, they'd learned to always hold back on speaking strange things anywhere outside of their living space, especially with the kinds of dreams they'd been sharing recently. The only contrast between theirs was Harry's didn't paint pictures of any traumatic events from the past. He saw everything as one clear projection, while Rose's would split into fragments of the present linked with a memory, as if trying to do nothing more than remind and torture.
They remained in silence for a moment - Rosalie blankly staring at the wall as she huddled her knees close to her chest in deep thought, and Harry standing barefoot with his eyes shut, hands raking through his ebony locks.
"What did you see this time?" He questioned, voice hinting the obvious concern his shimmering eyes already gave away. "You know... what did you relive?"
Rosalie shifted her attention to the floor, contemplating whether she should answer. The one thing about her brother that had seemed to grow every year was his concern for her. She may have been always protective towards him, but he always found the way to have the upperhand with his stronger brotherly care, even if it was as simple as her falling on the road and scraping her knee. Although that brought great comfort to her, it was worrisome. She was ready to risk her life for Harry, but she wanted him no where near danger for her.
"Nothing, just... the night," she lied, not wishing to tell her brother about the fact Voldemort lingered in her nightmares, and every single time, managed to land a hand on her brother. He had enough things to ponder about, and her dreams wouldn't be one.
"I'm sorry," Harry apologized with a frown, shuffling over to wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her into an embrace.
Rosalie rolled her eyes, patting his back soothingly. "Harry, you don't have to apologize for your curiosity."
"I know, you'd do the same" he teased in a light-hearted attempt to change the mood. Rosalie gave a soft chuckle and ruffled his hair, leading Harry to jump back in protest. "Hey!"
"You two!" the booming voice of Uncle Vernon called from downstairs upon hearing Harry's shout. "Get down here right now or you'll be left picking scraps for breakfast!"
Rosalie sarcastically sighed, shaking her head. "As if we eat anything more than leftovers... Do you reckon I can accidentally hex him and get away with it?"
Harry chuckled along with his sister at her remark as they made their way down the steps to reluctantly greet their cruel aunt, uncle, and cousin.
By the time Rosalie and Harry had made it downstairs, the three Dursleys were already seated around the table. Vernon payed no mind to either of them, his nose deep into a morning newspaper. Across from them, Dudley complained to Petunia about his plate of fruit, which he absolutely refused to eat. It was as if the family was completely oblivious to their arrival. They all minded their own business, not looking up at either of them. It was the typical morning behavior in the typical Dursley household.
Harry picked at the grapefruit and toast with his fork quietly, trying to drown out his irritating family. Rosalie reached for the kettle and poured herself a steaming cup of black tea, which she agreed at the start of the summer was the only good part of breakfast.
Somehow, Rosalie could feel a thick tension in the air. She took notice of Vernon's impatient foot tapping under the wooden table, and Petunia's stern expression as she chopped away at the food. Before, she would worry about the Dursleys getting angered by them (which was frequently) and the consequences, but as the years passed, it'd almost become enjoyment to see them snap at the slightest sight of abnormality. Harry and her exchanged glances - the newly-formed creases on his forehead and puzzled look gave away that he felt the strain as well. Rosalie wondered how long it would be before Dursley one, two, or three would snap. Perhaps they'd get lucky enough for all of the above?
Her thoughts were answered as Vernon cleared his throat. Rosalie took a sip of her tea before setting it down on the table and looking up at him. He shot her an icy glare, clearly not pleased with the fact she hadn't immediately given him her attention.
"You two, living room. Now."
"Can't it wait until after breakfast? " Rosalie sighed, cocking a brow at him. "I don't want my tea to get cold."
His eyes widened at her attitude, cursing under his breath in barely audible whispers. She managed to catch the words "ungrateful" and "magic freak." Harry kicked her ankle lightly, but she shrugged. It was nothing new for the older girl to talk back to Vernon Dursley. Rosalie was a caring soul, and anyone would testify to that - but where respect went undeserved, she made it clear it was undeserved.
"No," he gruffly remarked, setting down his papers and walking in the direction of the living room. "We're talking now."
Harry grumbled in protest, but stood up anyway, followed by a reluctant Rosalie. They trudged behind their uncle before taking a seat on the cushions. Vernon reached for a purple envelope set on the coffee table. The tab was already peeled open, but that wasn't what was unusual about the letter. It was covered in stamps front to back, as if the sender wasn't sure what was enough.
"This arrived for you two," He snapped, waving the letter in his hand. "Either of you care to explain what it is?"
"For us?" Harry echoed in befuddlement. Their uncle remained silent and tossed it at the boy. He caught it and pulled out the piece of parchment, scanning over the words. Rosalie curiously awaited an explanation as well as she watched Harry's eyes light up at the words on the paper. What could possibly make him so happy yet piss their uncle off so much?
"It's a letter from Mrs. Weasley," Harry stated, handing it over for Rosalie to scan, only for it to be snatched away from Vernon with distaste.
"What did it say?" She asked, completely ignoring the presence of her family member. The thought of Molly writing warmed her heart - were they getting out of this hellhole for the remaining month of the summer? Maybe she figured writing for permission from the Muggles was the best way, considering the terrible escape plan on Arthur's Ford in Harry's second year...
"She wants us to go to the Quidditch World Cup with Mr. Weasley!"
Her eyes almost bulged out of her head, her jaw falling open at the mere thought of sitting in a large stadium, watching the Bulgarian and Irish team battling head on with thousands of wizards and witches surrounding them in chanting and cheering. "You're joking! She invited us?"
"Quidditch?" Vernon spat out the word poisonously, as if disgusted by the sound of it.
"Think of it as the wizard version of football, only with a higher possibility of injury."
Harry, who had suddenly lost any past bitterness, began to babble about wizard culture. "It's a game, played on broomsticks. The teams are up in the air - Chasers, Keepers, Beaters, and Seekers. The Keepers block the Chasers from scoring goals, the Beaters wh-"
"All right, all right!" Vernon shouted in interruption, clearly uninterested. Harry's face fell to a scowl and Rosalie pat his back reassuringly. Muggles could never appreciate the fine art of Quidditch, which was quite the shame.
"At least it has enough stamps," Harry mused, shrugging to defend his best friend's mother.
"Enough stamps," Vernon scoffed in mockery. "The postman sure thought it seemed funny. Do you take this family as a joke?"
"That's not at all what he's insinuating-" Rosalie began, only to be cut off.
"Didn't even bother leaving it at the doorstep, he rang the doorbell." Vernon seemed absolutely appalled by the idea of appearing anything other than normal. It was astonishing yet hilarious how something as small as a letter with too many stamps threatened his mood and his reputation.
A silence fell amongst them, neither Harry or Rosalie knowing what to say.
"This is one of your little magic shows, isn't it?" He interrogated, his beady eyes scanning them back and forth. "Is this Quidditch what you wizards call entertainment?" Even the name of the activity repulsed him, such an odd word escaping his lips.
"It's actually a sport-" Rosalie corrected, only to be disregarded.
Harry hesitated for a moment with uncertainty. "So - can we go?"
Mr. Dursley gritted his teeth, as if waging an internal war on his decisions. "This woman - who is she? Actually, no, I don't care. What does she mean by 'write back in the normal way?'"
Harry's eyes narrowed matter-of-factly, clearly annoyed with Vernon's lack of knowledge. He should've known well by now what Mrs. Weasley had been referring to, it had only been three years since 4 Privet Drive was infested with owls and Hogwarts letters, and it surely wasn't a forgettable memoir. "She's referring to owl post - the normal way wizards communicate."
"Normal?" He spat. "You speak that nonsense of flying broomsticks and wise owls in the roof of this house-"
"You asked him," his sister piped in defensively, glaring at their uncle. "You should've expected an answer."
"I've about had it with you, you know," Vernon threatened, pointing the letter in her direction. "Have you no gratefulness for what we've done for you? You're as disrespectful as the-"
"Spare me the load of lies. I could sit here and listen to you compare me to rubbish until the last day of your miserable old life, and I wouldn't care," she admitted. "The only reason I've put up with this treatment is for my brother, and you damn well know so. Now, give him an answer, or we'll be on our way upstairs."
His eyes sharpened, as if attempting to slice Rosalie piece by piece. However, the girl was reaching a point of immense irritation and impatience.
"No," he decided. "You're not going."
"That settles it then!" Rosalie exclaimed, standing up, grabbing Harry's hand and helping him off the couch. "Good talk, but we've got letters to finish."
Harry stared at her quizzically, not catching her bluff for her evident plan of persuasion. Vernon eyed her incredulously. "Letters? To who?"
"You know, our escapee Godfather from wizard prison who was accused of murdering twelve innocent Muggles with one single spell," she laughed. Harry's eyes softened as he finally realized what she was trying to do, biting his lower lip to prevent from breaking out into an obvious smile.
"You're writing to him, are you?" Although his voice rose at the end, it wasn't a question.
"We do need to write to him often," Harry jumped in, ready to take part in the ploy. "Or else he'd think something was wrong. Now that I think about it, I haven't written to him in a while..."
It was as if gears were clicking inside of Vernon's head. He remained quiet, stroking his grey mess of a mustache before letting out a groan, tossing the letter in front of them on the coffee table. "Fine, you can go to your stupid... ruddy... little game..."
Harry's expression finally cracked into the suppressed boyish grin, matching Rosalie's innocent smile. "Good talk, Vernon!" She called out as she strutted out of the living room, out of the kitchen past the dismayed Petunia and Dudley. What did it matter? She asked herself as she ran up the stairs and swung open the door to their quaint bedroom. She was getting out of the summer hellhole to go to none other than the Quidditch World Cup.
"Rosalie Lily Potter, I don't credit you enough for being my genius big sister!" Harry praised as he followed her inside.
Rosalie wrapped an arm around his shoulder in response. "I'm only looking out for you, kid! Besides, I'm not missing the chance to see Viktor fucking Krum! Are you mad?"
"Don't let Fred and George hear you - with them rooting for Ireland, they'll be heartbroken."
"They'll surely get over it after Bulgaria takes the cup and we all celebrate in harmony," she giggled, walking towards the messy wardrobe which occupied all of Rosalie's clothes, most of which were rather outgrown or rather large. She grabbed random items and tossed them onto the bed, secretly wishing she had the ability to flick her wand to fold and pack without being punished by the Ministry. "Be a dear brother and write to Molly so she knows to come for us. You can send Addie."
Harry nodded and picked up a torn piece of paper from the night table, scribbling a brief sentence on it before rolling it up. He opened Addie's cage, the barn owl already excitedly hooting as she crawled out of the confined space and took the small message between her beak. He opened the cage for the critter, muttering the recipient's name before sending her off soaring through the morning skies.
"Now we wait," Harry sighed, trudging over to the bed, only for Rosalie to make a tutting sound and stop him from sitting down.
"Oh no, you don't. You're helping me pack these trunks or you'll be hanging from the top of the Astronomy Tower."
The next day had come slowly for the two anxious siblings. By the time the clock chimed downstairs to signal the change of hour, Rosalie and Harry were already waiting outside in the living room with loaded baggage in hand. they made it to the bottom floor, heading to the living room where they impatiently took their seat. Vernon had the decency to change into a suit, although it was a known fact it was more to add to the intimidating factor than to appear welcoming to the wizards. Rosalie was willing to bet Petunia was ready to faint at the thought of having even more visitors in her home who possessed magical abilities. Had two not been enough of a punishment?
Their uncle didn't seem to know what to expect from the wizarding family, however, he had made assumptions to relax himself the best he could. Some reassurances were: the Weasleys would be arriving in a car (even if it was the same, ruddy Ford Anglia), the Weasleys would come dressed properly to greet them, and they would be punctual.
His impressions were incorrect.
"It's five o'clock," Petunia observed at yet another chime from the wall clock. Vernon snarled at the wooden decor and turned to look at Harry and Rosalie, who had their legs swung over the armrests of the sofa and were silently awaiting the Weasleys' arrival. "They're late!"
"We're aware."
"They'll be here," they answered simultaneously.
Minutes and minutes passed, but no trace of the family was seen. Rosalie stood up from her spot and strolled over to the window, taking a glance outside onto the streets of Privet Drive. There was no sign or flaming red hair anywhere. Had they gotten Harry's note?
"What's taking them so long?" Harry protested, his voice hinting at slight panic and worry.
"They have to have gotten our response," Rosalie assured. "I'm sure they're just running late. They're not ones to be on time."
Molly had mentioned Arthur accompanying the kids. This left Rosalie to assume Mr. Weasley would be their rescuer, along with the rest of the Weasley children, which was a large lot to handle. A downside to this meant a delay in their time of escape, but she could rest in peace knowing that soon, she'd be free from the streets of Little Whinging and reunited with her friends.
Her thoughts were snapped as a loud cry of surprise sounded from the kitchen from their Uncle Vernon. Rosalie jumped up in immediate hope along with Harry as they grabbed their luggage and ran toward the source of the noise.
"Vernon! What is it? Has something happened?" Petunia rushed into the scene, gasping as she stared at the fireplace. "What is going on?"
"Oh no, this isn't what was supposed to happen - Fred, go back and - oh, never mind! This has gone wrong - at least try and stop R- Oh good, Ron's here too - there's no room..."
The speaking voice was pinpointed as Arthur Weasley, his tone full of concern and confusion.
Ron was the next one to speak. "Do you think they can hear us? HARRY! WE'RE IN HERE!"
Dudley appeared frightened out of his mind, Petunia clutching his shoulders tightly. Vernon was scowling at the shouting as he turned to face the Potter siblings. The only problem is, one of them was fighting his urge to laugh, while the other was full on cackling at the blatant issue with the Weasleys.
"What are those wizards doing stuck in our fireplace?" He bellowed. "What is this about?"
"You blocked the fireplace," Harry reminded him. "They're stuck in there."
"You can travel through fi-" Vernon cut himself off before he could wonder any further about it.
Rosalie wiped tears from her under her eyes, gasping for air as she walked over to the fireplace. She leaned under it and called out to the family. "Oi!"
"Shh! Was that Rose I heard?" Fred exclaimed.
"Ouch, Fred! You're stepping on me!"
"We all are, Ronald!"
"You can't get in through the fireplace, it's blocked!" Rosalie called out to them.
Mr. Weasley made another sound of confusion. "Blocked? Why would the Muggles block the fireplace?"
"It's electric! You can't come through here, is there another way out?" Rosalie asked them, raising her voice.
"There actually may be another way - Merlin's beard, electric you say? I must get a look at that - step back, Rosalie!"
The eldest Potter furrowed her brows, when a rumbling noise sounded from the brick of the chimney. She stepped back, marvelling at what the Dursleys eyed in fear.
"What are they doing?" Harry asked Rosalie, who only shook her head.
"No idea!"
BANG!
The fireplace expelled outward in explosion with a cloud of ash and chippings. Out of it fell Arthur, Fred, George, and Ron Weasley with grunts, landing on piles on top of each other. Petunia shrieked in horror, Vernon absolutely outraged with the intrusion and mess.
Arthur was the first to stand up, wiping off debris from his clothing with his hands and fixing up his hair. "Much better. Ah, you must be Harry and Rosalie's aunt and uncle! Pleasure, though apologies for the mess." His eyes scanned around the room, aweing at the Muggle furniture, decor, and technology. "Merlin's beard, this is a lovely house! You Muggles fascinate me!"
Vernon had absolutely no words to share, his face and outfit covered with dust. Rosalie, on the other hand, had plenty to say as she walked towards Mr. Weasley to grant him a welcoming hug.
"Ahem," the two twins coughed behind Rosalie.
"Have you forgotten about your favorite twins?"
"After all we've been through, this is how we're greeted?"
Rosalie wanted to scoff and slap their arms, but enthusiasm and relief at the sight of her ginger friends took over her emotions when she turned around to face them. "Come here, you two idiots!"
She yanked them into a tight embrace which they openly returned. Harry gave a mischievous grin her direction at the reunion of the pranksters, while Arthur shone a loving smile at the sight of family and friends coming together. Harry and Rosalie's aunt, uncle, and cousin still appeared bewildered and speechless, not that it mattered to them.
Ron pinched the bridge of his nose as he made his way towards Harry. "Bloody hell, that was quite the trip down! Is this how all Muggle houses look like?"
Harry merely laughed and pulled him into a brotherly hug, giving his back a pat. Rosalie stepped to the side to greet Ron as well.
"I've sure missed you two," Ron complained, ruffling both of their hairs. Rosalie noticed then that his fiery red locks almost resembled a mane, barely touching his shoulders, quite similar to that of his brothers'. Had her brother and the Weasleys forgotten about the existence of haircuts? Or was it a new wizard trend to outgrow hair?
"We have too, thank God you all have come to the rescue! I don't think I could've survived another moment here."
As Arthur awkwardly attempted small chat with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia about his collection of electricity plugs, which left the family thinking Arthur was mad, the twins called over Rosalie.
"I can't help but take a good look at your cousin over there, Rose," George admitted, scratching his chin once the girl had made it back to them.
"We've heard so much about him."
"Yet he looks exactly like we pictured him!"
Rosalie nodded, glancing over at her large, pudgy cousin. "He's quite the pig, and a pain in the ass to deal with. Those looks are telling me you've got something under your sleeve ready."
"Let's say Georgey and I have invented the finest piece of trickster candy of all time," Fred murmured excitedly. "Enough to outwit Zonko's."
"That's quite the stretch," Rosalie laughed challengingly, crossing her arms. "What makes this product so utterly brilliant?"
George dug into the deep crevices of his pockets before pulling out a confectionary tied in colorful striped wrapping. "Ton-Tongue Toffee," he presented proudly.
"Enlarges your tongue drastically," Fred explained.
"A great excuse to get out of your History of Magic lecture!"
Rosalie grinned in marvel, taking a good look at the piece of candy. "I'm impressed! It's so stupidly genius that you're tempting me to use one right now."
They returned the smug smile as their formulating idea began to outshine. "Well, we aren't stopping you," Fred reminded her.
"If we don't see it, we can't say anything, right?".
She caught on to their drift and snickered deviously, taking the candy in her hands and securing it in a closed fist.
"I should warn you though," George added. "It is a prototype so it may carry a few side effects... Nothing too major - on a wizard. We haven't tested it on Muggles."
"I'll take my chances," Rose shrugged, reaching to grab her trunks.
"Well, we best get going," Arthur called out. "We've lots to do before the Cup! Ron, Harry, off you two go!" He pointed his wand towards the fireplace. "Incendio!"
Harry scratched the back of his neck as he glanced towards the Dursleys. "Right, er, goodbye then."
The family remained completely and utterly silent as Harry grabbed his belongings, not bothering to wait for a reply he knew wouldn't come. Arthur frowned and turned to Vernon. "Your nephew just said goodbye to you, and you don't plan to say it back?"
Proud Uncle Vernon suddenly looked defeated as he narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Goodbye, then" he stiffly complied, leaving Harry with a sense of triumph and inferiority. Ron was already in the fire, teleporting to the Burrow. Harry disappeared right after him.
"Boys, Rosalie, you next!"
As Rose prepared to step into the green flames and transport herself to her destination, she dropped the toffee and made sure the action was obvious. Dudley's eyes immediately widened in hunger as he noticed Rosalie slowly leaning to pick it back up and launched himself forward to snatch it up from her. Rosalie faked a look of disappointment, causing Dudley to snort and unwrap the candy to devour himself.
"No Duddykins, you're on a diet!" Petunia cried out.
"Relax, it's one toffee candy," she argued rather suspiciously. "It won't harm him."
Dudley nodded, for once in his life being able to share a consensual agreement with his cousin. The twins watched with anticipation in their last moments disappearing into the fire as Dudley popped the delicacy in his mouth and began to chew it up.
Rosalie was last in line besides Arthur to depart. She took one step into the shattered fireplace and inhaled deeply. Dudley's tongue started to swell up, immensely growing in size and lolling out of his mouth. Aunt Petunia released a frightened screech for what seemed the millionth time today as she ran forward, kneeling on the floor to help her screaming son whose tongue had plummeted onto the floor.
A deafening laugh of victory left Rosalie's throat, revealing her intentions. Uncle Vernon, absolutely furious, began to stomp towards her to yank her out of the fire and stop her from going anywhere.. Unfortunately for him, Rosalie was too quick - before he manage any hold of her, she yelled, "The Burrow!" and was sucked away into the comfort of the Weasley home.
*AUTHOR'S NOTE*
welcome to the world of Rosalie Potter my lovelies!
the first few chapters will be a bit of exposition to introduce you to Rosalie, Harry, their life and personalities, their relationships with other characters, all that good stuff. 3 but I promise the story will get more exciting ok ok