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Nothing can come close
To this familiar feeling
We say it all without
Ever speaking

Moloko – Familiar feeling

MONDAY

Home.

When I spoke about home, I never meant my flat in New York. When I spoke about home, I meant here. Close to London. Big house, lots of windows, a few balconies. Enormous garden. The place where we used to play Quidditch before I outgrew that phase and started to hate the one thing everyone was always so obsessive about. The place where Lily and I actually sunbathed during the Summers, until I realised that I was a hopeless case and unlike Lily, my creamy skin would never tan. The place where I put up a tent when I was fourteen, because I wanted Scorpius to sleep over and my parents didn't know him yet. He never actually came over (frightened out of his wits, naturally), but I slept in that tent for two weeks.

That was home to me.

The strange thing is though, that I don't have that feeling now. I'm facing my house – the same house I lived in for seventeen years – and I don't get that feeling. I don't feel home. I remember that every time I returned from Hogwarts during the holidays, I felt a certain... safety. Security. Because I was home with my parents, and I finally had a place to myself again (my room, that is), and I didn't have to worry about professor McGonagall catching me when I was out past curfew. Safe and secure, yeah.

But I'm not fifteen or sixteen or seventeen anymore.

Instead I'm twenty-one, I don't have to worry about insignificant things such as curfews anymore, and currently I'm dreading the moment I'll have to open this oh-so familiar door and step into the one place I haven't seen for so long. I'm scared, to be honest. I'm scared because – damn it – I don't have that home-feeling anymore and I don't want it to be shattered. I don't want it to be an illusion. I don't want to be that grown up that I have to find my own home now. I'm twenty-one. This very moment I feel like I'm twelve again. Then again – in a way I wish I still was.

"Rose? Is that you?"

Yes. That's supposed to be me alright.

I turn around with the biggest fake smile I can muster and find my mother – frizzy-haired as ever – gaping at me with eyes in the size of a Quaffle. Hermione Granger. Hermione Weasley. Most brilliant witch of our age – until I came anyway.

"That's right!"

She wastes no time. She drops the bag she was holding, jogs up to me and wraps her motherly arms around me. It's nice. It's a fraction of the home I thought I'd lost. I smell the scent I must've smelled like myself before, and it's strangely comforting. It's the same. Unlike Scorpius and Lily getting married – that's still the same.

"Honey!" She almost-squeals. "How come you didn't tell us you were coming back?"

I pat her back vaguely. "For the sake of surprise, I suppose?"

"Fantastic!" She puts some space between us, cups my face. "But shouldn't you be... I mean, was it okay for you to just leave your school like that?"

I nod. "Yeah, well, they understood. Marriage is big, you know."

There. Five minutes and I've already lied twice to my mum. I didn't tell my school anything about the wedding, because I refused to speak the words out loud to anyone besides my family. Would've made it more real. So I simply called in sick, even though they probably would think marriage is big. I don't. I'm a girl that believes is statistics, and they happen to proof that ten percent of the marriages in the Wizarding world don't make it. That's one out of ten. What's that supposed to tell me?

"I know," she replies. "Strange, huh? Lily and Scorpius?"

I can't help but snorting. "Merlin, no. Could've seen it coming from a mile off."

"Glad to hear your sarcasm's still intact," she eyes me meaningfully. Then she picks up the bag next to me. "Come on, I'll help you carry your stuff."

"Yeah," I say. "Thanks."

I could single-handedly Avada my own mother right now.

Apparently she thought it would be a great idea to celebrate my return (never mind the fact that I'm not really back to begin with) and thus, invite a handful of people. People that are also called family members. Fan-fucking-tastic. Just whom I wanted to see. When I expressed my dislike for that plan, she merely passed me a swift glare and tsk'ed.

"Rose Weasley. You never did anything other than party your head off. So stop complaining, lady."

Yes, mum. Alright. That was before Scorpius decided to marry Lily.

It's the truth though. I like parties. I'm the partying type. You're probably thinking I'm pulling your leg, since there's no way that Hermione Weasley's daughter can possibly be the party type, but I swear to you on my future grandmother's grave that I'm being honest. I'm not uptight. I don't regard rules as something Holy and Untouchable. The only thing I got from my mum are her brains, the vertigo that enables us both to fly properly, the shape of her doe eyes, and the curly hair. But that's where it ends. Even though people seem to have a hard time understanding that.

I'm not my mother.

I'm not my father either.

Horribly difficult concept to grasp, isn't it?

The parties are also the reason why I never made Head Girl. That's right. I never made Head Girl. I admit it surprised me somewhat when I didn't get the badge – because, hey, nobody, except for Scorpius maybe, even came close to my intellectual capacity – but when I encountered professor McGonagall about it, she told me I'd misuse it. Said I didn't 'fit the description'. Claimed I'd probably invite boys to my room and hold secret get-togethers for my friends. Assumed I hadn't even heard of the word 'responsibility'. Ended her speech like this: "You never fought for that title, Miss Weasley. There are students in this school who are far more deserving of the privileges, because they've actually made an effort."

That was that.

The fact that I never made Head Girl probably made my parents even more eager to ship me off to America. Not to get rid of me, I mean. Just to prove the world that I could live up to everyone's expectations.

But anyway. I'm losing the subject.

The subject being the party my mother wants to throw for me.

"Mum," I say, watching her, quite irritated, as she hurriedly Scourfigies the litter on the floor. "I don't want this. I don't feel up to it. I'm kind of nauseous from the long distance Apparation."

She stops in the middle of a spell and turns to look at me worriedly. "Are you alright? You can lay down on your bed if you like. The problem is that I already sent out the owls."

"I'll just…" I rub my temples in contemplation, when suddenly something hits me. "Did you invite Scorpius?"

"Of course. He's been a part of this family for years, and now that he's getting married to Lily…" she trails off thoughtfully, and then narrows her eyes slightly. "You don't mind, do you?"

"What, that you invited them?"

"That he's marrying her."

I scowl at her. "Why would I?"

"Well, it's always been you and him, if you know what I mean. Up until recently."

"Yeah," I nod, yet decide to keep the horror to myself. "But he deserves it. They both deserve it. Whatever gets them happy, you know?"

She smiles one of her million-dollar-genuine-smiles and steps forward to kiss my forehead. "You're a wonderful friend, Rose."

I swallow down the guilt. If only she knew…

"Thanks, mum. I'm going to bed now, alright?"

And then I leave the room.

Running.

Always running.

"Rose! Rosie!"

That voice. Haven't heard it in ages. It comes when I've counted the ninetieth crack in my ceiling.

"Please refrain from calling me Rosie, Louis."

"Whatever. Can I come in?"

"Sure."

The next second he's in my room. His hair is shorter, and he looks older. More grown up. Less scrawny. But he still has that stupid grin, and he's directing it at me now. I feel something blossoming in my chest – relief? – and open my arms. He strolls to my bed, sits down on it, and falls into my embrace. We've been here many times before, and fuck it – I'm so, so glad suddenly.

"Damn, I missed you, Rose," he sighs in the crook of my neck. "Like you wouldn't believe."

"I missed you too, mister," I reply. "Like you wouldn't believe."

And this time I'm not lying.

Louis Weasley is my cousin, and has always been one of my best friends. Maybe not to the extent of Scorpius and I, but still. One of my best friends. Silly yet responsible Louis. I missed him. He was the one that put up with me when Scorpius and I were fighting. The one that bought me chocolate frogs when I was PMS'ing. The one that carried both Scorpius and me to our rooms at four in the morning when we'd secretly been playing drinking games in the library. Louis was, and hopefully still is, the solid one. Whereas Scorpius and I were the more... tumultuous ones, Louis remained solid. Always.

"So why aren't you upstairs?" he asks after we pulled away.

I look down at my feet. "Not ready to face the frenzy yet."

"Since when haven't you ever been ready to face the frenzy?" He puts his arm back around shoulder and gives me a scrutinizing once-over. "Don't lie to me."

I roll my eyes good-heartedly. "What is it you want to hear?"

"Scorpius isn't here yet."

"What?"

"That's why you're not downstairs, isn't it? You didn't want to see him."

"What is it with you people today?" I exclaim indignantly, wondering if I'm that transparent. "My mum asked me the same thing earlier!"

He chuckles slightly. "It's Scorpius, Rose. You know, the one that used to be your counterpart?"

"Things change, Louis," I remark casually, ignoring the growing lump in my throat.

"Yeah, but Rose and Scorpius?"

"Things change," I repeat firmly. Then, softer, "Want to know something funny, though? He once said something about that. Change. Us. He said there if the earth would explode and the world would be reverted back to a bunch of cells and microscopically small elements, we'd still be there, as a duo. Seriously. That's the way he said it."

Louis looks disturbed. "He told me that too. When he was drunk."

"Yeah well, that kind of leaves the options open, huh?"

Not that Scorpius has ever been an alcoholic. He just liked to make fun. Often.

"Rose." Louis keeps wearing the Grave Face. "It was after you left. Remember when we dropped you off at the station, and you guys started imitating one of those annoying PDA couples?"

Ah, yes.

That was kind of funny, actually. Scorpius and I had the habit of making fun of people and their beyond ridiculous sentiments. We used to send each other anti-Valentine postcards on the thirteenth of February, just to boycott the whole ordeal. Sometimes he randomly popped up in my room during the Summers with a rose in his hand, and instead of giving it to me, he plucked the leaflets to answer yes or no questions. So when that dreadful moment of goodbye arrived, we attempted to keep it light by doing what we did best. Making fun of PDA. He kept hugging me, and I kept blowing my nose, wailing for him not to leave. It was hilarious.

At least until the moment that I really was gone.

Then the fun part was over.

"Well, after you left something strange happened," Louis continues. "He just... kept laughing all the way home, like a madman. And just before we arrived he suddenly stopped and said we needed to find a bar. He was so... different, that evening. Passed out, even."

I blink. I never heard that story. Scorpius certainly never told me.

"I never cried."

"What?"

"I never cried in America. Not once." An unsettling feeling in my gut pops up. "I never cried, because we agreed not to make a big deal out of it. I often felt the need to cry, but then I remembered our agreement not to... become sentimental about it, and then my eyes dried up again. In the end the watering stopped as well. Like I'd ran out of tears I never cried in the first place."

Louis shakes his head, pushes a lock of red hair behind my ear. "You two are so fucked up, you know that?"

"That's the main reason we were best friends," I try to crack another grin, but it vanishes as soon as it came. "Louis... Did I ever hurt him? Like – really hurt him?"

Louis isn't looking at me anymore when he replies. He's staring at the one wall of my room that's completely covered with pictures, and his voice is low. "You hurt him all the time, Rose. But when you left that evening? You completely broke his heart."

Completely broke his heart.

An overwhelming lump is growing in my throat. Why didn't I ever know that? I mean – I couldn't expect him to tell me or anything. But why have I been so blind? Why in Merlin's name have I been wearing eye pads for the past four years? I knew he loved me. I knew he was in love with me. But I always... took it for granted. Thought I could have my fun and afterwards he'd still be waiting. It's not like he acted like a pathetic love-sick fool. As I told you before – we mocked all the silly lovey-dovey stuff. We both went out with different people all the time. He had girls queuing up for him and he was a bastard to them all the time. So why –

You hurt him all the time.

"Shit, Louis," I mutter, trying my hardest not bang my own head against the wall.

"He doesn't blame you. But I do think you have go downstairs to say hello to his fiancé and the rest of your family."

I smile sadly. "Yeah. Probably."

He jumps off my bed and stretches out his hand. "Come on. We've got a wedding to sabotage."

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Oh my – Rose? Hello, Rosie! Merlin, Rose, this has been such a long time! How are you? How you've grown! Such a beautiful lady! Your hair's shorter, isn't it? Law school still that fantastic? Let me embrace you! Come here, Rosie. You're still my little girl! Prettier than ever! We're so proud of you!

Blah, blah, blah.

The moment I've stepped into the dining room everyone's been all over me like I'm a piece of cheese and they're the mice. It's strange and good to see them again, though. My family. The people I was constantly surrounded with. The Weasleys and the Potters. I stand in front of the big table while everyone is gushing over me – Louis has placed a comforting hand on my back – and try to ignore the fact The Future Wife of Scorpius Malfoy is in the room as well.

Unfortunately Lily doesn't seem to have the same plans.

After passing through all my family members, I am eventually faced with her. When she walks towards me, her stiletto heels make an annoying clicking sound, and she elegantly shakes her hips like she's always done. Lily Potter is, like I said before, undeniably beautiful, and she's the embodiment of sophistication. Plant a crown on her head and she'd make the perfect princess.

"Merlin, Rosie! You look so marvellous!"

Those are her greeting words.

You know, if Scorpius really had to go and fix himself a fiancé, couldn't he have picked someone... less likable? Less nice? Less gorgeous? Less smart? Less blood-related?

"Hey, Lils," I even manage a real smile. "Speak for yourself."

Then Mum interrupts us. "Is that the doorbell I hear?"

No.

No, no, no.

I feverishly scan the room for any missing family members, but as I already thought, everyone is present. Mum, who seems to have the same realization, comes to me and says: "Go open it."

You wouldn't be able to ignore him if you tried.

Inhaling deeply, I march towards the hall way, closing the door of the living room behind me. The loud volume of their voices is immediately drowned out. There's is a thumping in my chest and hands are getting clammy and – why the hell am I so bloody nervous?

It's just Scorpius.

Same old Scorpius I used to play Wizarding Chess with.

(Yeah – but back then he wasn't engaged, was he?)

Before my nerves can get the best of me, I put my hand on the door handle and push it downwards. I close my momentarily, count to ten, and then open the door. A zillion questions race through my mind in process. Will he be different now? Will he be someone else? How will he react upon seeing me? Will he still like me? Will he still love me? Will there still be a fraction of what we used to have?

"Rose?"

Rich, smooth drawl.

I avert my gaze from the ground (he's wearing polished dragon leather shoes) to his face. He's staring at me with an unreadable expression, his metal eyes drawing me in. His mouth is uncharacteristically in a straight line – no traces of a smirk whatsoever. That sets me back. I don't want him to just look at me. I want him to do something. Something familiar. Something that indicates that we're going to be alright.

Because, fuck, he's so beautiful.

He's still so purely, aesthetically beautiful.

"Hi," I quietly say.

And then he finally reacts.

He takes a small step forwards, lets his hand trail over my bare arm. Serenely, calmly. Cool and collected and composed, like I know him. He keeps holding my gaze and I keep holding his and in a way I feel like I want to remain here forever. On this spot. Frozen. With him. Because – that's love, you know? Appreciating the smallest gestures, the littlest moments? And I do. Love him, I mean.

"Shit, Rose," he whispers, and pulls me towards him like he's done so many times before.

I sink against his chest, his chin on top of my head. His scent is still distinctly his, and exactly like two years ago. Mix of cologne and detergent. I'd say I want to smell it forever, but then it hits me once more. He's getting married. To Lily. Which means I won't be able to wake up to this smell ever again.

"Engaged, huh," I mutter against his shirt, "big step."

It takes him so long to reply that I initially believe he hasn't even heard me. But then he sighs in my hair and presses me closer.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

And after that silence befalls us, and we stay still. In each other's arms. In the door opening. This is how it's supposed to be. Scorpius and Rose. It's always been fucking Scorpius and Rose. Our names and faces complemented each other for everyone. For the whole world. So why am I only seeing this now? I'm not saying we should get married (ah, the irony) or something. I'm not saying we should start a life-long commitment right now (because, hey, we both suck at that. Or at least I thought we both did until he decided to tie the knot). I'm only telling you that we're inevitable. And I will make him see that.

I can't do anything else.

Because for the first time today, I feel home.

I can't promise a quick update after this one.
It might take me a while.

Let me know what you think!
-Josephine