"I'm holding on
Why is everything so heavy?
Holding on
So much more than I can carry
I keep dragging around what's bringing me down
If I just let go, I'd be set free"
- Heavy (Linkin Park)

(WARNING: There is brief hints of self-harm. Please be safe and do not read if this is triggering. It is not detailed, but still mentioned nonetheless.)

Chapter Four - Heavy

Minister of Magic and war hero Hermione Granger-Weasley discusses her experience with motherhood and dealing with teenagers!
Granger-Weasley states that raising children is "an experience no one is prepared for". Reporter for the Daily Prophet, Dianne Brown, had a chance to talk to the Minister of Magic about her children, Rose and Hugo Granger-Weasley who are currently in their seventh and fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"It's something they never tell you about having teenagers, how difficult it is." Minister Granger-Weasley said. "Hugo is easier. He just understands people, he's social and certain of what he wants. Rose... it's not that she is a tough kid to raise. She's just very different from her brother. She's an island unto herself and thats the way she likes it. I don't think there's a person alive that can get into her head and relate to her. I certainly can't."

Rose slammed the newspaper onto the table, the corners landing in the bowl of the person besides her. He turned to Rose, annoyance of having parchment in his milk clear but Rose's eyes narrowed at him and he turned away. Great. Good. Let the little coward turn away and enjoy his ink-infused cereal. He probably deserved it! She could feel eyes other than her Daily Prophet victim on her skin; the burning and itching seemed to sink deeper. Her bones ached with the weight of their gazes.

It was two days. Two days of freedom from their whispers. Two days of freedom from their judgements. Two days without feeling like complete and utter shit.

Why did her mother say that?! 'An island unto herself'? What did that even mean? It felt like her head was about to explode.

Rose stood up and left before she snapped at someone else, storming through the corridors until she was stood outside the Transfiguration classroom. At least the corridor was empty. No more people staring icy daggers into her skin for a few more minutes. She couldn't deal with that right now, thoughts of what her mother had told the Daily Prophet about her weighing her down.

See, the thing is parents don't realise how much they damage their children. They look at their family and see it how it seems, not how it truly is; they see either good with happy memories that leave happy glows in the hearts of children, or bad with thoughts that leave children feeling empty like their soul had been clawed away from through their throat. Parents don't see the way that they do affects children. They just see how it changes their family. They see the blood-tie and imagine that there is no way that a good and caring mother like Hermione Granger-Weasley could ever have such a negative effect on her daughter's everyday life that Rose was left feeling hollow and heavy; like a piece of paper covered in dark smudges.

Rose could only wish her mother understood the effect that her words had on Rose. But no, she didn't. How could she when Rose acted like everything was okay? There was no way for her to know. And that thought terrified Rose more than anything. If her mother couldn't help her who could?

Possibly the answer was Professor McGonagall, who stared at Rose as the Gryffindor girl leaned against the cold stone and trapped herself away in her thoughts. Rose smiled at the headmaster.

"Would you like to come in, Miss Weasley?" Rose shrugged but entered the room anyway, walking towards her desk and taking a seat. At first McGonagall busied herself, using her wand to write on the chalkboard and to sort out pieces of parchment on her desk. Rose tried to think when she first realise parents maybe toxic as she watched her Transfiguration professor move around her classroom contently.

Perhaps it was when she heard stories about Walburga Black and how she would abuse Harry Potter's godfather, Sirius Black. Maybe it was then when she realised that a parents love isn't unconditional like everyone had told Rose when she was younger and when she heard about how Sirius - who was related to her in everything but blood, Harry used to say - would do anything to escape his mother's tyranny. Maybe it was when she realised that seeming like you love your children is out of selfish interest.

Perhaps it was when she saw how her Aunt Fluer began to treat Louis differently when he told her that he was gay. Sure, she still loved him - there was that unconditional love, if you want to believe that. Maybe it was when she saw that Fluer would snap at him more and not talk to him about his future. Or when Rose saw the scars on her cousins wrists which he would try to hide under long-sleeve t-shirts and sweaters. Maybe it was when he couldn't accept himself all because his mother's eyes weren't as warm as they used to be.

Perhaps it was when when she opened up her copy of the Daily Prophet and saw her mother - the woman that was supposed to love and support her and show her unconditional love - said that she didn't understand her daughter. Maybe it was when the words were clear that Rose was alone and that there wasn't anyone in her corner, that everything around her was vacant and cold. Uncaring and unloving. Hating and helpless.

Rose was brought back out of her thoughts when McGonagall cleared her throat.

"Is something bothering you, Rose?" She asked, tone dripping of indifference but her eyes telling another story. There was a glimpse of something Rose was too afraid to see as anything beyond mild curiosity behind her square glasses.

Rose smiled plastically. "What makes you think that, Professor?"

"I have seen a lot of troubled students in my time, Miss Weasley," McGonagall told her sharply, before her gaze dropped and she held up a copy of the Daily Prophet. "You're not a difficult breed to spot."

"Don't worry about me. I have tough skin."

"Undoubtably, but I recognise how what your mother said about you might bear down on your thoughts, Rose. Just keep in mind that if ever you wanted to talk there are people you can discuss things with."

"I already meet up with Neville to talk about my feelings," Rose said flatly, not really meaning for the words to escape her lip but not caring that they had either way. McGonagall peered down at her over her glasses but said nothing. Rose's skin squirmed at her heavy gaze. "Thanks for your concern, Professor."

Rose had decided that someone was forcing people to talk to her. Firstly there was McGonagall, then Joan Swanson and Megan Brown who had all but questioned Rose in their dorm. And now Malfoy. Why else would Malfoy have actually waited for her during their prefect hours? Since the first round of walking around the castle making sure no one was up to no good they didn't really do their joined rounds together. Usually Scorpius would leave a note at their usual meet up place saying that Rose was taking too long and that he went off to do his own rounds. They would then meet up at the end, share notes to make sure Professor McGonagall didn't know they were splitting up and they both went on their merry way.

But when Rose got to their usual meeting place at the end of the Transfiguration classroom Malfoy was sitting on the floor reading. Rose kicked him in the leg and Scorpius flinched, his book falling out of his hand and onto his lap, closing shut. Scorpius muttered angrily about looking his page as he put his book away and rose to his feet.

"Any reason you're late, Weasley?" Scorpius crossed his arms over his chest.

"Pregnancy?" Rose answered flatly. For a moment the corridor was silent, but then Scoprius began to laugh. Not a small, exasperated kind of laugh, but a loud chortle that made Rose slightly uncomfortable. She took a step back and watched the Slytherin boy calm down. As he straightened up Rose took his appearance in.

He was looking more relaxed than Rose had ever seen him. His wihite-blonde hair was disheveled like he had ran his fingers through whatever hair products he put on it so it was more natural. His Hogwarts uniform was in a similar manner. His shirt was wide open, revealing a black vest top underneath and his tie was loose around his neck. Rose couldn't help but shiver.

"Like what you see, Weasley?" Scorpius licked his lower lip.

"Envying your testosterone." Rose scoffed, wrapping her cloak further around her lithe frame. "I'm fucking freezing and you're prancing around in just a vest top and your shirt like a dickhead." Rose was snuggled up under her cloak, sweater and shirt but she was still shivering like she was wearing nothing. Like Scorpius. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I believe we have hallways to patrol."

"You haven't waited for me every other time." Rose reminded him flatly. "Why start now?"

Scorpius didn't answer. Instead he picked up his messenger bag from the floor and began walking down the corridor. Rose hurried after him, each footstep sending out a loud noise that was easily alert anyone trying to misbehave so late at night. Scorpius didn't slow down and he didn't acknowledge Rose as she walked beside her. Instead they walked in silence, shining their light into every nook and corner of the castle.

Minutes stretched into an hour before Scorpius even opened his mouth.

"Weasley-"

"If this is going to be a personal conversations I'll stab you in the ovaries and sell them on the black market, Malfoy."

"Why would we talk about anything personal?" Scorpius turned to Rose, finally stopping in his tracks to look at her. Rose stopped too, looking at Scorpius with furrowed brows. His eyes were unnervingly clear, a pale blue that seemed to love to grey the higher his lit wand went.

Rose shrugged. "People are trying to talk to me about personal shit because of what my mother wrote in the Daily Prophet."

"I was just gonna ask if you'd done the work for Professor Cryn." Rose shook her head and continued to walk. It was a few seconds before Rose heard the Slytherin boy following her. "Are you gonna do it?"

"Chill, Malfoy. I'll do it with plenty of time to spare and you'll still have time to steal some poor girls soul. " If it was up to Rose she wouldn't do the work she had to complete with Scorpius, but unfortunetly Professor Cryn had decided to take inspiration from his time at Muggle Primary school and decided to include elements of co-operative work to his lessons. This meant Rose and Scorpius had to work together to complete an essay on the traditional applications for any potion covered in that years syllabus. Luckily, the Malfoy boy had agreed with Rose when she suggested they split up the work, her doing the introduction and first two paragraphs of the work and malfoy doing the last two and the conclusion. Now he was just waiting on her to finish her part of the work.

Scorpius opened a broom closet and stuck his wand in the crack before closing it and turning to Rose. "I'll have you know I'm currently seeing someone. No soul stealing for me."

"Just to clarify this person is real, right?"

"Of course, Weasley." Scorpius snarled. Rose grinned slightly. It was the small things such as annoying pomous assholes like Scorpius Malfoy that brought the slightest bit of hope to Rose's heart. It was fun to see how defensive boys got over small, trivial things.

"She knows you're dating right? This isn't against her will or in your head?" Rose continued to tease.

"She hasn't shut up about our relationship, actually."

"Need to get her some amour propre through artful prose to help her get over this cry for help. Who is she?"

"Ruby Crabbe."

Rose let out a very unattractive snort. "Ruby? Are you Hugh Hefner?"

Scorpius raised an eyebrow in response. Rose rolled her eyes. It seemed a pretty efficent system as they contiued to parole the castle, one of them making a forced comment into the thick silence that would be met with the same non-verbal responses. This was the type of communication Rose didn't mind; silent and passive-aggressive. She had mastered its art over her years at Hogwarts.

When they were finished walking around the castle, making sure there were no teenagers making out in corners, Scorpius simply bidded Rose adieu and walked back down towards the dungeons where they had finished their parole.

Rose snuck back into the Gryffindor as quietly as she could. There was no one in the common room despite it only being just after one in the morning. Usually her fellow Gryffindors would still be there, lounging on the armchairs in front of the fire or discussing Quidditch or doing last-minute homework. Rose didn't stick around, walking quietly up the staircase and into her dorm. Unfortunetly, there were still people awake there.

"You're back late, Rose." Hannah said curiously from where she sat on Joan's bed. The two of them looked like they were doing homework, but for all Rose knew they were writing a hit list or whatever teenagers like to write at one am.

"Yeah, I was busy converting small children too heathenism." Rose shrugged off her cloak and began to remove her shirt when she turned back to see the confused look on her dorm-mates faces. "I had prefect duty. Had to patrol the castle and all that exciting stuff."

"Oh." Was all the other girls said. Rose contiued to ignore them as she put on her pyjamas and got into her bed. She used her wand to pull the curtains shut tightly around her bed before using her wand to light up the small area. She could still hear Hannah and Joan talking about their Herbology essay and Megan's obnoxiously loud snoring, but they weren't being irritating enough for Rose to have to put a silencing charm around her.

Rose actually found the small noises rather calming. Silence was enveloping; thick and dark. She always thought of silence as the last tie that held her to the world. If that small tie broke where would she be but totally alone?

Rose decided two things in the following day: she needed to speak to Madam Longbottom despite how uncomfortable it made her when good old 'Aunt' Hannah did routine check-ups and she didn't like Quidditch enough anymore. She was stood along-side her the crowd of Ravenclaw's and whoever else was supporting them as before her the Ravenclaw vs Slytherin game kicked off the Quidditch season. Slytherin was in a short lead of 220-200 points, but Ravenclaw didn't seem to be going down without a fight.

It was a pretty intense game so far, but Rose couldn't be any less interested. She was tired and her entire body was shaking from the cold. Hardly any of the people around her seemed bothered by the chill in the air, but Rose was snuggled up under several layers and still her body was vibrating in a feeble attempt to warm her up. Worse of all her lips were tingling which was just annoying.

The sea of people didn't make it easier. They were all so closely packed together, elbows nudging Rose with every boisterous cheer they let out. It was almost suffocating, being completely surrounded with no clear line of escape. But Rose tried to ignore the knot in her stomach and tried to focus on the game before her, gnawing away at the skin on the inside of her cheek as a distraction.

Ravenclaw had just scored again, bringing the score to 230-220 in Slytherin's favour since Rose had last checked it when the Slytherin Seeker saw the quaffle. A tense moment took over the entire Quidditch stadium as both teams seekers were neck-to-neck with arms stretched before them in reach of the Golden Snitch. They were getting closer and closer to the ground, but in the last moment the Slytherin seeker pulled up. Everything was in favour of Ravenclaw right until the moment their seeker hit the ground and the snitch fluttered in the Sytherin seeker's hand. The sadium was almost silent, unsure whether to cheer until the Ravenclaw seeker was sat up by the referee and shown to be sort of okay.

Rose cheered feebily. Not because she cared about Quidditch, but because at least now she could go back inside and hide away by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Unfortunetly, the world was not that kind.

Hugo caught Rose's wrist just before she made up to the common room, pulling her aside.

"Rosie, can we talk?"

"You've already abducted me from witnesses so I suppose I'm inclined to say yes." Rose crossed her arms across her chest. Hugo bit his lip like he always did when he was nervous. It was clear he was trying to think of the right thing to say. Rose would know, of course. She knew her brother like the back of her hand; every little nervous tick and pet peeve. If it was about Hugo, Rose knew about it. Rose leaned against the wall when Hugo's eyes finally met hers once more.

"It's about what mum said to the Daily Prophet." Rose sighed irritatedly and Hugo immediately stopped talking.

"Seriously, Hugh. You think that's gonna bother me?" Hugo shrugged awkwardly and for a moment Rose was stuck for words. She looked at her younger brother and it hit her like a truck; it had been so long since they last spoke. Hugo was looking older. His hair had been cut. He was taller. His robes fitted his shoulders better. Rose was sure that she wasn't supposed to notice sudden changes in her little brother, that people were supposed to tell her and she was supposed to shut them down sarcastically. But she just stared at Hugo in shock. How were they in the same house and Rose hadn't even noticed?

Apparently Rose's face wasn't as stony as she usually tried to make it because Hugo stared at her uncomfortably before Rose managed to shake the thoughts of how everyone was getting older and the inevitable demise of all of humanity was fast approaching.

"I'm fine, Hugo." Rose reassured him, plastic smile in place. "Everyone says shit like that about me. It's true."

"Yeah, but mum shouldn't have said it."

"She couldn't have lied. Imagine the uproar if she said I was like you; a social butterfly with a charming attitude and a clean sense of humour and then someone broke the terrible secret that I am, in fact, a massive arsehole to the Daily Prophet." Hugo blinked owlishly. "Mum's Minister of Magic, she has to be honest with people during interviews to keep up her public appearence and if during an interview someone asks about her kids-" Rose gestured between the two of them. "She must be honest and recant the tales of the Angel and the Shrew."

For a solid minute Hugo doesn't say anything. He just looks at Rose as if trying to read her expression, her body language, her mind. Who knows, but all his watching of her was begining to make Rose uncomfortable. Karma, she imagines for the way she stared at him five minutes ago. Maybe he was caught up in staring at the way his older sister had become the biggest liar in Hogwarts history, maybe even beating Tom Riddle for the title.

But then he exhaled loudly. "I just wanted to make sure what mum said didn't, I dunno, like make you sad or something? Mum sent me a letter and said she feels like shit and Joan told me-"

"Oh, please don't mention your girlfriend." Rose all but begged, hand pressed against her forehead dramatically like she used to do when she was a little kid. "If I have to be reminded of the fact you two are shagging I'll throw myself off the Astonomy Tower."

"Rose!" Hugo blushed as he shoved his sister. Rose broke out in laughter. Although most of it was forced Rose was surprised by how much of it seemed to come out naturally. "I'm going now, you arsehole!"

"Love ya too, Hugh!"