Chapter Four. The Wrong Choices
It didn't take Rose long to settle into a comfortable rhythm once more. Her days were filled with classes, during which she often tried to avoid being roped into spending every second with her always enthusiastic cousin and his Gryffindor friends (somehow she was considered more of an honorary Gryffindor than a Ravenclaw, so the difference in houses appeared to matter little to any of her cousins) and actually learn some of what she was taught. Rose's only relief came in the study periods she had with Matt, who was quite content to let Rose do her work in silence. Even Ancient Runes, as much as Rose loved the subject, was tense. The smaller class number had meant that Alexis was forced to acknowledge Scorpius existed in her world, something that Alexis attributed directly to Rose.
But, as if to compensate for Rose's complete lack of spare time, each and every class was filled with subjects and topics that interested Rose from the very first moment. Professor Ward's Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, though mostly consisting of the theory of duelling, as he was unwilling to start practicals so early in the school year, were detailed and thorough. Rose had always known that duelling was part instinct, part strategy, but it had never truly occurred to her that there was so much strategy that could be employed against another wizard. Lulling others into a false sense of comfort, faking moves… each move of an opponent could be either one's saviour or downfall. Even more interesting was Ancient Runes, in which Professor Sullers had started to hand out actual tablets of runes written centuries ago in a term long project. Lessons in the Potions chambers were, as usual, touch and go. Though the mixtures and solutions were far more advanced, the results of such attempts varied between nauseating and euphoria inducing in their effects – some of which had caused the evacuation of the dungeons while Professor Bettony had taken care of the situation.
Care of Magical Creatures showed Hagrid to be a superb teacher, spending another lesson on Thestrals, allowing the bravest to ride the accommodating horses while the more timid began to learn of the more in depth knowledge of the Thestral beast, from its preferred diet (beef had been found to be favourite) to the life cycle of the Thestral. Rose, after much prompting from Albus, had climbed aboard the Thestral and taken flight. The journey was not what Rose would call comfortable, but the short leap into the sky had made Rose's heart soar and blood race around her body in excitement. Herbology, even with its flesh eating trees in Greenhouse six and Defence Against the Dark Arts with its occasional jinxing, had nothing against the rush that was flying with the Thestrals. It was more than flying a broomstick, because Rose could feel the beating heart of the horse underneath her, and the flap of the wings. It wasn't just Rose on a broomstick – it was just a girl riding a Thestral and truly experiencing what the feeling of flight truly was. It wasn't the rush of looking down and seeing trees, but the rush of air against her face and the wind catching the sounds of birds and Thestrals and mingling them in her ears.
Brushing a charcoal stained finger across the page of her artbook, Rose shaded the Thestral's coat a dark colour. She could almost see the Thestral flying through the clouds behind it, air puffing out through its nose like a small patch of fog. Was that the magic of the book, or just the tiredness getting to her? It was late, past midnight late, but Rose didn't mind. She had always had been a night owl, liking to watch the stars rather than the sunrises. For all she had complained of astronomy, Rose had never had trouble staying up late enough to take part in the class – it was more the fact that the class required her to remember and learn at midnight, which was a stretch, even for her. Rose could stay up til the sun came up in the morning, provided she was doing anything but studying and working. Draw, read, both she could do until she dropped out of sheer exhaustion, but never before.
"Almost done," Rose whispered to herself as she grabbed for an eraser, trying to get the highlights on the coat right. The white eyes of the Thestral were perfect, maybe because they were only small, and her body was proportionate in the picture – the only failing Rose could see was the highlights. Somehow, the highlights she had already drawn in didn't match the position of the sun, though technically Rose could see no fault with them. Sighing as she bent closer to the book again, Rose shaded again, meticulously picturing the moment in her mind when she had looked around herself on the flight. Pausing the memory inside her mind, Rose built it up, imagining stepping back as grey pencil strokes completed the scene before they merged seamlessly into the memory. Trying to project the somewhat-memory onto the picture, Rose carefully put the pencil to paper and traced a series of thin, short lines, overlaying some over others to achieve the right depth within the image. Finally happy with the picture in front of her, Rose reached for her wand and placed the tip against the centre of the image.
"Munero animus," she whispered. The tip of the wand glowed, a small bright orb shimmering where the page and wand met before sinking into page. The book glowed for a moment, illuminated from within, before returning to its original state, the only difference being the Thestral and girl of the drawing springing to life, flying through the clouds, a memory preserved by Rose's own hand. She smiled at the girl as she gasped, clutching at the mane of the Thestral.
"Very impressive Rose. Your talents have grown." The Grey Lady said from behind her. Rose tilted her head back to see the ghost, and smile up at her in return. The Grey Lady, the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw herself, was always a sight to see. Though she lacked the easy amiability of Nearly Headless Nick and the joviality of the Fat Friar, the Grey Lady's easy grace and mysterious, knowledgeable smile was enough to endear Rose to her.
"There's nothing a summer of relative boredom can't do for talents." Rose replied with a grin, closing the artbook and gathering her pencils and charcoal sticks together. "I almost missed the homework load during the holidays. It's amazing the feelings one gets once the O.W.L.s are completed." Rose pressed the artbook and charcoal sticks firmly onto the couch she sat, stretched the cramped muscles from their position, releasing her legs from their drawn up arrangement. "But of course, now all I have to look forward to are the N.E.W.T.s of course. Tell me, does it ever get easier? You've seen countless students take exams after exams... does it ever get easier?"
The Grey Lady sat down beside Rose, as much as a ghost could sit. The pearly sheen she gave off seemed to be some kind of strange, dim light in the darkness, glowing barely brighter than the embers in the fire. "In what way? If you're asking if these tests and tribulations you face in life become easier, I would say not. Though, I suppose, I don't think I truly lived long enough to answer. True wisdom is admitting that sometimes you have none to give. Or so my mother said." A sad look flitted across the Grey Lady's face, but she wiped it away before Rose could mention it. "In many ways, nothing is ever easier for nothing is ever harder than anything else. It is all complicated and challenging, all in different ways. The only difference is in how one looks at it and how one chooses to take responsibility for it and act upon it. That I have learnt in these years of being a mere spectre." The Grey Lady smiled down at Rose, motioning around herself, this time, not bothering to keep the sad, wistful expression from her face. "Being a ghost, I think, is just as hard as facing the unknown of what lies after death. I chose to remain, and now I must live on, a mere shadow, while those I loved most in the world have gone on without me."
"You have the Bloody Baron." Rose reminded her quietly. The Grey Lady's hand wandered, unconsciously, to the dark stain on her clothing, the wound the Baron had given her all those years ago. Ghosts couldn't feel, Rose knew that, but she could still see the remembered pain in the Grey Lady's eyes. They couldn't feel, or taste, or smell... but they could remember doing so. The agony of the mere memories would be exquisite, a true torture. "Maybe you two can reconcile with each other. It would make living in the same school at least more bearable for the both of you."
"The Bloody Baron and I chose this path long ago. It is too late to turn back it to walk another. Just as he will wear his chains of penance for the rest of eternity, so too will I bear the wounds of his actions as penance for my own. Nothing less is acceptable." The Grey Lady replied evenly. She glanced out a wide window, eyes cast upwards into the stars.
"Do you hate all Slytherins then?" Rose asked. The Grey Lady frowned as she returned her attention to Rose, her face gathering itself up into a more guarded expression, the haughtiness Rose had seen in her first year returning like a shadow across the ghost's face. "Because of what they did to you. All it takes is one of them to damn the rest. I wouldn't blame you."
"One of them?" The Grey Lady became more opaque, if that were possible, as if white, gleaming blood was gathering in her cheeks.
Rose nodded. "Yes, the Bloody Baron. He murdered you, remember?"
The Grey Lady looked flustered for a moment, her expressions fading until all that remained was one of a pensive nature. "I don't suppose I hate them. It would... unfair, to them as a whole. The Bloody Baron isn't Slytherin and Slytherin is not him. They are each a part, but never the whole of the other. But I don't suppose I trust them or especially like them after my experiences. Maybe because they remind me of me." The Grey Lady's voice shrunk to a mere whisper. "I so wanted to be better than my mother, more important, more known, that I stole her diadem." The Grey Lady stood, floating over to the bust of Rowena Ravenclaw. She reached out, the tips of her fingers sinking into the statue of her mother. "Which seems to me, to be cunning and seeking my own end, like a Slytherin. Perhaps, if I had belonged there, history would not have found itself to be where it is today. Things, all things, would be different. There would be no lost diadem, no Grey Lady, no Bloody Baron and then... maybe..." Her voice trailed off, a mere hint of wistfulness in her voice.
"You would have moved on?" Rose suggested. The words seemed so blunt, so tactless, but Rose knew of no other way to approach it. She stood, walking over towards the bust, focusing not on the Grey Lady but upon the statue of her mother. Her eyes roamed across the diadem – wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure – and the half smile on Rowena Ravenclaw's face. In a way, it almost reminded Rose of the Mona Lisa, the little knowing smile. "Maybe this isn't as bad as you think it is. Nearly Headless Nick certainly makes his fun of it, so does the Friar. You have repented for centuries... maybe now is the time to enjoy and make what you can of your choices."
The Grey Lady smiled at Rose, but it lacked mirth and happiness. It was a saddened smile, one weighed down by melancholy thoughts and emotions. "I have made other choices, wrong choices Rose." The Grey Lady returned. "Choices that have brought grief down upon the world. I am still as I was, the child who wanted to be more than her mother, and that has brought nothing good to this world. I will continue with my penance until I change."
Rose shook her head, unable to understand. Facing the first thought that came to her mind, Rose spoke again. "But ghosts can't change!" She exclaimed. "You're imprints, not the person themselves. You're exactly as you were when you died, and you can never change from that! To spend your life wishing you could, punishing yourself because you're a ghost... it makes no sense! And if by how you treat me, I'd say you weren't a bad person!" Rose continued, trying to lock eyes with the Ravenclaw ghost. "You just liked knowledge, and you wanted to be seen as something other than Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter. What's so bad with that?"
"But remember how I acted. It is our actions that show who we truly are, not our words. I stole my mother's diadem, for my own profit. I am selfish and I am not a fool enough to deny it." The Grey Lady locked eyes with Rose, her silverly gaze enthralling. "You like me Rose, because in me, you see yourself. You are blinded by that. It causes you to give me traits I do not possess. You see an equivalent to your own position. All I can say is don't follow where I have gone. It brings only ruin."
"Enlighten me Miss Weasley; where is Miss Bell?"
Rose looked up from Spellman's Syllabary into the eyes of Professor Priscilla Sullers. Professor Sullers was a witch who looked like she was in a perpetual state of mourning and general unhappiness, dressing entirely in black from the tip of her hat to her toes, with her raven dark hair and pale skin hardly helping her case. In Rose's mind, all she could ever see of the Professor, apart from the air of strictness the woman had about her, was the Muggle fairy tale Snow White her mother had read her one day in Rose's youth.
"She's ill ma'am," Rose answered, thinking of Alexis in the hospital wing. "A first year knocked her out while she was walking back from the Owlery. If I remember correctly ma'am, the student was trying to hex a classmate, and instead hit Alexis with... just a spell. No incantation, just stray magic." Rose glanced back down to her tablet of runes, eyes finding eihwaz. "I haven't seen her yet, but Thomas did say at breakfast that Madam Pomfrey does want to keep her in the wing, just for the rest of the day in case there's any side effects."
Professor Sullers pursed her lips and nodded, tugging on Rose's parchment to see how her translation was coming along. Her eyes raked across the careful lines of inscription, the runes copied neatly out on one side of the page, before translating, line for line, on the other. "This is good Miss Weasley, though a little slower than I expected. Your tenses are wrong though – see here how this rune here affects this one?" Professor Sullers pointed to a rune that looked faintly like an upside down y, with a third branch added, parallel to another. "It's more complicated translation, nothing a little reading wouldn't fix. Advanced Rune Translation would be helpful if you require it."
Rose nodded, reaching for the book and pulling it up into her lap. The mere presence of heavy, leather bound book was enough to satisfy Professor Sullers, who left Rose's table of scattered notes and tablets, in order to wander more freely about the room. "Oh, and Mr Malfoy? I suggest you once again encroach upon Miss Weasley's kindness if you wish to scrape more than an Acceptable in your N.E.W.T. examinations next year." There was a collective hushed laughter from the class as Rose blushed in her seat. "Quiet you lot! You, Mr Finch-Fletchley, are in no way better than Mr Malfoy and if I thought that you would listen to Miss Weasley as well as you listen to me, perhaps I would even recommend you as well. Well, Mr Malfoy, encroach away!" Professor Sullers ordered, standing in front of his desk. Rose fought back a laugh as the Professor waved Scorpius towards Rose, and from a fleeting sight of his face, Rose knew that he was fighting just as hard to hold his own laughter in. Pulling a nearby table closer to Rose, Scorpius laid the armful of his things onto his desk and sat down.
"Well, Miss Weasley," he whispered, "may I encroach upon your kindness?"
"You're an idiot." Rose answered smartly, pulling his translation from him. She scanned the lines of words, occasionally looking back onto the original runes to check his translation was indeed correct. Sighing, she took Scorpius's copy of Advanced Rune Translation and flipped through the pages until she came to the correct place. "Here, read this. It'll help you with it all." She thrust the book back at him, open to the chapter entitled Runes: Word Negation & Belonging. "You're main problem is you keep associating the runes as belonging to the wrong ones, whereas sometimes it changes depending upon the context and grammar of the sentence." Rose shook her head, twirling a stray curl around her finger as she looked down upon her own runes. "I don't get it. Why do you even want to be in this class? It does nothing for being an Auror."
If Rose had learnt anything about her Ancient Runes class, it was that it was as close to private as one could get. The few students that had decided to remain in the class (a grand total of twelve – an overall improvement of three they had been told) were spread out throughout the room, each with one, or sometimes, two desks just for their use. Between the scratching of quills and cursing of students, hushed conversations were hardly discernible and paid little heed, even if they were between a Weasley and a Malfoy. Many simply assumed that Rose was reprimanding Scorpius for a mistranslation, rather than conducting an actual conversation and discussion, a mistake that Rose did not bother correcting. If it meant she could talk to her friend without being attacked on all sides for doing so, it was worth the trouble of upholding it.
"Yeah, but it's practically the only extra class that I really want to take where Finnigan isn't getting us all blown up. Can you imagine the chaos he will reign down on your head with N.E.W.T. level Creatures? Excuse me, but no thank you." Scorpius grinned at Rose ever so slightly before placing his attention back on the text. "You started drawing yet? You've had the gift for a week, so I expect it to be almost full by now."
Rose choked back a laugh. "Oh yes, between homework and, oh, more homework, I've had ever so much time to devote to my drawing. As it is, I drew in it for the first time last night. It's a brilliant present, by the way. I love it."
Scorpius's grey eyes locked with hers for a moment, before Rose looked away. "I'm glad. So, you going to show me said drawing tonight then? I'm absolutely dying of curiosity here."
Rose frowned. "Tonight? What's tonight?" She asked back in a whisper.
"Well, considering I have Professor Sullers permission to intrude upon your life, I figured I'd intrude tonight. Does that sound wonderful? It does! Marvellous!" Scorpius added a touch of pomp to his words, his mouth pulled upwards in merriment. "Besides, Thursdays are good days. Fridays the teachers load you up to get you through the weekend so you can easily carry homework from the night before over into the weekend, and I know that Albus is booking the Quidditch pitch every Thursday for Quidditch practice, trials for which, incidentally, start next week. Seeing as I will be taking Tuesdays, and how Wednesday is really the night where most homework should be done, I think Thursdays are an excellent choice of days."
"Fine," Rose sighed. "Seven o'clock at the library. Bring all of this." Rose tapped Scorpius's parchment with the end of her quill. "And I do expect you to work you know, not just sit around and talk. I'm not sure I completely got that through to you last year." Rose bowed her head to hide the smile growing on her face. How many of their supposed study sessions had contained little study and more talking and flicking notes at each other than anything? Far too many to count, if Rose could recall correctly. Not that she had minded that much. It was fun to be with Scorpius, just talking or enchanting origami birds to fly or books to speak their contents. It was easy to be around Scorpius, like breathing. Nothing felt like it took an effort. She didn't have to force herself to forget that he was a Malfoy, or that he was a Slytherin, or that maybe she shouldn't hang around him – they simply fell away whenever she saw him. It was hard, so impossibly hard to reconcile the image she had of Scorpius with the one everyone wanted her to see.
Scorpius appeared to be remembering the study sessions the previous year also. "You have my word. I'll work at least half the time. Overall, it's an improvement. Say... Cody hasn't been saying much about you and her in Care of Magical Creatures." Scorpius shifted on his chair, quill paused above paper. Rose did not look at him, instead dipping the nib of her own quill into the inkpot and focusing determinedly on her runes. She could read between the lines – I've been talking with Cody and she's told me that you've abandoned her to hang around with your cousin, despite the fact that Cody is alone and friendless and I thought you two would actually get along and make each other feel okay. Maybe those weren't the precise words Scorpius was thinking, but they were the words Rose felt like he should be. "Are you two getting along okay? I-I know she's a little bit of a handful sometimes, standoffish and the like, but I swear she's a good person. You just have to get to know her."
Guilt weighed itself in Rose's stomach. "To be honest Scorpius, I've been with Albus. He's all but dragged Thomas and myself into his group and he's not accepting Cody at all. I know that it's not fair to her but..." Rose shrugged helplessly. "I'm not a Gryffindor Scorpius; I don't have the courage to tell him no."
Rose suddenly found anywhere but where Scorpius was interesting. From the grain of the wooden desk to the windows in the room that showed the western school grounds, all of it was far more interesting than the loaded look Scorpius was giving her. Rose felt faintly sick, nauseated with herself for being such a complete coward. What was the point in being the child of a hero if you lacked all courage? What was the point of being Hermione Weasley's daughter if she couldn't stand up for herself, when her mother had shouldered the insult Mudblood with pride, when she had championed the downtrodden?
"You shouldn't let your house define you." He muttered finally. His tone was heavy, and dark, with a trace of anger and frustration to the edge of it. "That's what you tell me all the time Rose. Don't let your past, or your house, define you. You are more than that. Just because you're not a Gryffindor doesn't mean that you can't stand up for yourself against your own cousin for Merlin's sake. If you can't stand up to your family, how in the world are you meant to stand up against your enemies?"
Rose risked one glance at Scorpius from the corner of her eye. He was gritting his teeth, clenching his jaw, dotting an i so fiercely that the parchment broke under the pressure. He cursed under his breath, scrunching the page into a ball and reaching for another. I'm sorry, Rose whispered inside the comfort of her own mind, but I don't know what you want me to do. I can't go against my family. They're everything I have. I don't want to leave Cody, I don't, but it's Albus and he doesn't understand. None of them understand and I'm sorry.
"I come from a family of Gryffindors Scorpius," Rose whispered, keeping her eyes steady on the page. It took an effort to keep her hand steady and her voice level, but she did. "Don't you think if I had had one tiny bit of Gryffindor in me, I would have been sorted there? As it was, I begged the Sorting Hat to place me there, but it didn't. Sometimes, there are times when you can truly be defined for what you are… or what you aren't. I know you Scorpius, so I know you're not what they say Slytherins are. But you know me just as I know you, and you know that I'm not crusader."
Rose took a deep breath, trying not to focus on the fact that Scorpius was no longer writing on his parchment, but instead, focusing his entire attention upon her. She could feel his gaze prickling across her neck, raising goosebumps in it's wake. "So I'm sorry if I'm just too much of a coward for your tastes, but that's what I am. Take it or leave it, but don't expect me to change, least of all for someone who seems to find my personality so repulsive when I suddenly don't go along with their wants!" Rose finished, fighting to keep her voice soft and hushed as a surge of anger ran through her. What right did Scorpius have for wanting her to change, to be different that what she was? At least in that, Rose could stand her ground. All she had ever told Scorpius, all the things he had thrown in her face, was said to enlighten him to the fact that he was not what the whispers and rumours painted him as. But Rose… she knew what she was, and what she was not. The knowledge of her own faults was heavy within her, but it was knowledge that she needed to have. After all, the greatest knowledge one could have was knowledge of self, however troubling and confronting such wisdom could be.
"Rose, that's not what I meant at all." Scorpius spoke with his voice low, as if trying to soothe some injured animal. Is that what he saw her as, something wounded by his words? Did he suppose that he had that great an influence upon her that the slightest word he said of review and critique would upset her? Indignation rose within her chest, blossoming alongside the anger already within her. "Rose, Rosie, come on, look at me!"
As his hand reached across the table to her, Rose moved away, keeping her distance. For a moment, Scorpius's hand hovered on her table, as if its owner was in indecision about whether to pull away or continue to reach for her, before it withdraw, silence falling between the two. The silence was awkward and tense, an uncomfortable weight upon Rose's shoulders. How had it all gone so bad so quickly? One day, he was apologising and it was fine, never better, until the next week something happened that set them down the same path yet again in a never-ending cycle. Was this the way the world was trying to tell them that their friendship was unnatural, by continually trying to push them away from one another? If it was, Rose had to admit, she was beginning to have doubts over the long term nature of their friendship. It seemed like it down purely to luck that it had lasted for so long, not any permanent connection. But… but….
When it was going well, when they weren't fighting, it was simple. It was effortless. It was a friendship to rival Rose's own with Albus, and maybe even win. There was laughter and philosophy and silences that weren't awkward but contemplative and beautiful in their stillness. When it was going well, Rose could spend hours with Scorpius, doing absolutely nothing at all and still have the time of her life. There were never pretences, no lies or façades over how they felt. It was honest and true, and the freedom that came with such friendship was exhilarating and heady, intoxicating to Rose's senses. Was that why she liked Scorpius? Not for what he was, but for how he made her feel so free? Maybe the sensation, akin to riding Thestrals with the wind on her face, was more to do with the fact that Rose was rebelling, and less to do with the fact that Scorpius was a genuinely enjoyable person to be around.
The thought sent a stab of terror through Rose. What if what she truly loved about her relationship with Scorpius had nothing to do with him but everything to do with the social conventions she was flaunting to be near him? As a friend, Scorpius was everything that Rose could have ever asked for – he listened, cared, empathized. He was entirely beyond words, and captivated her by the way that she never could truly describe what he was. He was, at his very core, good, and too good to be used simply as a vehicle for Rose's personal rebellion. It wasn't fair to him for her to abuse his friendship as she was.
Rose looked up for a moment, eyes resting on Scorpius. He didn't notice her attention upon him or simply refused to look at her in any case. He had a Seeker's build, lean and compact – unlike some of her cousins, he wasn't muscle bound but simply slim and lithe. She had always liked that about Scorpius, he never had looked menacing, like he could snap her in half. After all the rumours Rose had heard about the Malfoy family, she had expected Scorpius to look frighteningly intimidating. But he hadn't – he had had a small smile and blonde waves that fell across his face.
Rose immediately focused once again on her work as the bell rang and Scorpius stood. From the corner of her eye, she could see him glance once at her before he left, his expression unreadable. It was only when Rose knew that Scorpius had left the classroom that she looked up and began packing away her things, her mind flitting between Scorpius's words and her own fears about her reasons for their friendship, afraid to dwell on either for too long but hopeless against the pull of both topics, begging her mind to unravel them and find truth and certainty.
The thoughts distracted Rose as she walked up the winding staircase to the Ravenclaw tower, and made her answer to the raven's question garbled and vague, neither of which the raven knocker appreciated. Rose's only saving grace was in the arrival of Matt behind her, carrying his History of Magic textbooks in his arms. If he thought Rose's ineloquence strange, he made no verbal note of it, simply answering the question and leading both to their claimed chairs, respectfully keeping his distance from Rose, verbally and physically. At any other time, Rose might have asked a question, perhaps about his class, or made a note of the fact that his cheeks were ever so slightly stained red, as if Matt was only just throwing off a blush. But, in her contemplation, Rose found the silence welcoming and company unappealing.
In such a state, Rose completed little work, the time rushing by her. In what felt like minutes, the bell had rung again, signalling the beginning of break and setting the Ravenclaw common room into motion once more. Gathering her Defence Against the Dark Arts books into a bag, Rose joined Matt where he waited patiently for her, feeling more and more like her mouth had been sewn shut.
As was becoming habit, when Rose arrived at the entrance to the classroom, Albus immediately sought her out, pulling her ever so slightly away from her friends and towards his. When she had been younger, in those first few years as a Ravenclaw, the action had been a comfort, a sign that she still was part of the Weasley and Potter family, included with them despite being in a different house. But now, the same action felt different, like instead of including her, it was excluding her from others, dragging her across a line she couldn't come back from.
"Rose!" Albus exclaimed, his grin wide and bright. He seemed to glow with his happiness, and it was infectious, bringing a smile to Rose's face. "Cousin! I have a wonderful idea about tonight. Seeing as how we've got a later curfew, I was thinking that maybe we all have a little get together in an empty room. I figure you can't be working all the time, so you'd have to rock up at some stage. And a little bit of you is better than nothing, right?" Albus linked an arm around hers, puffing out his chest as if escorting Rose was the greatest honour he had ever had. A small giggle escaped Rose as she watched her prat of a cousin parade about like a fool. It was Albus's distinct ability to be, all at once, humorous and idiosyncratic without looking like a fool that made him such a joy to be around. He invited people to laugh with him, as he knew exactly how he looked, but truly didn't care. It was the Gryffindor blood that made him like that, confident and brazen, like the world could press down on him but he wouldn't budge an inch.
"And who is this we you're speaking of?" Rose asked, arching an eyebrow to show Albus that his attempt to pass off the party as a small event had been unsuccessful. "Just all of Gryffindor house, I'm thinking…."
He tapped her nose. "Now where is the fun in spoiling the surprise so early Rose? Now, I will say that there will be relatives, and family friends, and friends, and your friends are, of course, always invited to our little rendezvous. So yes, basically, anyone and everyone you can think of will be there and it shall be a smashing event. Roxanne is even bringing some new things from Uncle George's shop. Just fireworks and joke candy, you know, but good stuff. It's bound to be a hoot! So, will you come?" Albus asked, genuine hope in his voice as he spoke. Everything about Albus was genuine, open and plain to see; the boy even wore his heart proudly on his sleeve and thought nothing of it! It was one of the things Rose loved so dearly about him. Albus was unguarded, and sincere – there was not one moment when Albus had offered something he wasn't willing to give. And what was more, Rose thought with a smile as she relented to Albus's request and nodded that she would come, was that he honestly didn't know just how rare of a person that made him. And even though Albus was hard headed, with a rash, fiery temper and an opinion that didn't often change, all of that was made up for in his ability to be utterly and completely candid and honest.
"Brilliant Rose! It's going to start between seven and eight in the Charms room. Curfews at ten, so that gives us a few hours of fun to be had before we toddle on off to bed. Is there anyone you'd like to invite?"
Rose shrugged, looking behind her at the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who stood behind her. Only Shian looked even mildly interested by the idea, stepping forward to hear more details. She slapped a hand on Rose's shoulder, resting her chin on it, watching Albus with wide, innocent eyes. "New things from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes you say? Count me in. I'm always dying to figure out what I can use to … well…." With a sly grin, Shian pulled away from Rose and winked at her. "Let's just say, it's always handy to keep some around to pull Matt into line, wouldn't you think Rose?"
"I heard that!" Matt called out indignantly. "And no, I put my foot down. You're not going if the only reason you're going is to get things that you can use on me! I'm not your guinea pig! I'm putting my foot down."
Shian arched an eyebrow, taking her time to look at Matt from his shoes upwards. "Matt, honey, your foot is already down, so the point is moot. Besides," Shian continued, sighing as if with great patience. A grin spread across her face as she sidled up beside Matt and pretended to examine her nails with disinterest. "If you come, maybe you can find something to use right back at me. The Skittering Wand is a real big thrill, or so I hear. It looks like your wand, hell, it even feels like your wand – if you can lay your hands on it. I hear it's a guaranteed one foot distance between hand and wand each time you go to grab it."
Matt's face flushed an instant red. "That's what you did to my wand this morning? No wonder Fraser and Justin were laughing as I went for it! That's it Shian, the final straw! I'm going to hex you until… until…!" The threat fell flat as Matt struggled for words, dropping his books on the floor so he could scramble more easily around students, trying to catch Shian. Small and ribbon slim as she was, Shian seemed to simply dance around Matt, easily darting out of reach.
"Five galleons says that Matt doesn't catch her before Professor Ward comes." Rose whispered out of the corner of her mouth, watching the two run around the other students. With a flick of Shian's wand, a hood of a robe swung out and caught Matt in the face, causing an eruptions of giggles in the crowd.
"Rose, you're my favourite cousin and all, but even I know better than that! Everyone has seen this scene play out, and we all know how it ends." Albus watched Shian with dismay written across his face as he saw her dart through a narrow gap in two Gryffindors without seeming to touch either. "And this is exactly where I wish that Shian had been a Gryffindor. Not that I don't like my Quidditch team from years past, or begrudge you Ravenclaws a good team, because Merlin knows that you're in good form from what I hear, but the girl is a natural Chaser if I've ever seen one. And I have. Just don't tell Lily I said that, or her ego might swell to rival James."
Rose rolled her eyes, slapping her cousin's arm. "Lily's not like that and you know it. She's about as arrogant as my left foot and as smug as my right. But, anyway, back to Quidditch, you have the trials all sorted out?"
Albus nodded, bending down and picking up Matt's books. "Next Saturday morning. You going to come watch, cheer on Lily and Roxanne?"
"And Lorcan." Rose added. "What's the Gryffindor Quidditch team without it being at least half Weasley, Potter or Scamander? I'll be heartbroken Albus, truly and devastatingly heartbroken, if those three don't get it… you catch my drift?"
Albus let out a laugh. "Rose Weasley, trying to coerce me into letting family into the team? Never thought I'd see the day!" He pulled on a curl, ignoring Rose's glare as he watched it spring back into form before he tugged it down again. "It should be fine anyway. Lorrie Wood and Fergus MacDonald finished last year, so I have a Chaser and Beater open – with any luck, it'll just be two new additions. Anymore and we're getting a bit iffy. You lose team mentality you see. Too many fresh faces and awkward conversations."
Rose gave Albus a flat look. "Al, just because I don't play Quidditch, doesn't mean I don't get the basics of team and pack behaviour." She made an offhand gesture, and tugged her curl out of his hand. "But, back to this party... I said I would come and I'm not reneging on my word but, when you said relatives, did you mean...?" Rose asked, trailing off. Albus nodded eagerly, his grin large and spreading.
"Oh yes I did. Everyone, well everyone at Hogwarts anyway, will be there. Even James is relenting from stroking his ego long enough to come down and have a good time."
"Well in that case," Rose laughed, "I just have to come then, don't I? Besides, it's not like it can be that bad."
Shian grinned as she stopped beside Rose, glancing back once to mock Matt with an air kiss. "Famous last words." She commented, linking her arms through Rose's, with a devilish grin on her face.
If the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes stores were the breeding ground for chaos and humiliation, then Albus' party was at least half of that, with firecrackers ricocheting off the stone walls, dragons made of shooting stars tumbling and cart wheeling into giggling students and what Rose suspected was one of Uncle George's strong Euphoria potions (Merrymaking Concoction – the party atmosphere in a bottle! Get the party started in the best way!) wafting throughout the room. That was not to say that Albus' gathering was a mess – it was, in fact, the exact opposite, and delightfully overwhelming. There was simply too much to look at and see, though Rose had to wonder how exactly the teachers weren't flocking to the party and asking exactly what all the ruckus was.
As a spiralling firecracker exploded over the group, showering them all in a mixture of glitter and small orbs of multicoloured light which snagged in Rose's hair, Albus caught sight of his cousin. Or rather, all of her cousins caught sight of her. Roxanne was the first to make her way to Rose, and, pulling out a bright green orb which promptly fell to yet more dust and glitter which clung to them both, leaned closer to whisper in Rose's ear, her dark hair falling over her shoulder and tickling Rose's face. "Albus and James have got a boy here for you. He's very dashing. Hell, he's even got a few 'Outstanding's in his O.W.L.s. Just a heads up."
Rose felt her face blush red, right up to her ears. She could imagine how she looked on the outside, with her face the same colour as her hair. Oh, what a perfect, pretty picture she made, especially since Albus and James had brought a boy for her! Not that Rose needed them to, or had really wanted them to, but it was always flattering, and being called her mother's daughter could only be said so many times before the compliment wearied... Bowing her head, Rose tried to cover her face in her hands, quite sure that she was only blushing more. It did not help either, that Shian was quietly trying to stifle a laugh beside her.
"Rosie!" Lily laughed as she practically bounded to her cousin's side. Glancing up, Rose saw Lily shoulder and bump Roxanne out of her way with a quick flash of a grin at the elder cousin. "Just ignore whatever Roxy has said, we all know that there is no truth to it, or if there is, that she's just teasing and stirring up trouble. It's the Uncle George in her, you know?"
Rose choked back a laugh as she stared, incredulously, at Lily. The Uncle George in her? Fortunately for Rose's tongue tied mouth, Roxanne seemed to have similar ideas, bending backwards and miming stabbing herself through the heart with her wand melodramatically. "Oh, how you wound me!" She cried out shrilly. "How you break my poor, ailing heart! Oh yes, the Uncle George in me... it's a poison, a disease! But oh, my dear, sweet cousin, oh my bestest friend in the entire world," Roxanne swung an arm out and captured Lily in a not-so-gentle but not-so-tight headlock, holding the giggling fourteen year old easily. "Oh, how you kill me!"
"You're dying? About time." James grinned as he said it, and did not blink at the scathing look that Roxanne sent him. Beside James, stood Louis, the two opposing pictures – one dark haired and rather burly, the other fair and much leaner – like night and day personified in the room; James, with his sneaky half grin that quite plainly said, at least in Rose's mind, 'yes, I know I'm good', and Louis, with his easy going charm. "Rose. Shian." He greeted them almost shortly, giving them very little of acknowledgement before he teetered on his feet and moved through the crowd.
Rose arched an eyebrow. "What's his problem?" She asked Louis as Roxanne and Lily continued to wrestle among themselves, with Roxanne being clearly the winner. "Should I have laughed at his joke, or is he just feeling guilty about trying to hook me up with someone?"
Louis shrugged. "Who knows? I may be his dormmate but I knew little about the boy and less about the man. No, scratch that, there was only ever a boy."
"Just don't let him catch you saying that, or he'll have your head on a platter for insulting him." Albus pointed out as he drew closer. His eyes caught on Rose's face and he, ever so slightly, frowned, eyes darting once to the entwined figures of his sister and cousin. "I'm guessing it was Roxanne that told you were invited a boy especially for you?" At Rose's nod, he shrugged, turning to Louis with faux-exasperation. "The family just can't keep a secret, can they?" He queried, turning back to look at the spectacle Lily and Roxanne were putting on. A small crowd had gathered, and were rooting for the clear underdog in Lily, some yelling out hints to help her out of Roxanne's various holds. Only a few members of the Quidditch team seemed to be remaining impartial, knowing that Lily would either entirely block them out of game play with the Quaffle or Roxanne would swing the Bludgers at them at next practice if they chose sides. "Of interest, should we stop our darling family members before any lasting harm is done? I actually don't want my Quidditch team to be ruined because Roxanne put Lily's neck out."
Louis seemed to weigh up the choices in his mind before coming to a decision. "No, not worth the effort. Besides, look at Rox – she's hardly putting anything behind it. It's more fun and games than actual decapitation."
Rose snorted in a laugh, blushing even further if it was possible, while Shian choked. "Decapitation? Does this... do you guys actually try to kill each other?"
There was a fraction of a moment of complete silence between the four, where all that could be heard were the whoops of people watching the firecrackers (now with hippogriffs flying around the room completing loop-de-loops) and the casual cheering at the now official wrestling match that was Potter vs. Weasley. All three faces from the Weasley/Potter clan turned to face Shian and widen their eyes, turning once more, this time to each other to ask the unspoken question of 'did she really just say that?', before glancing back at Shian and bursting out into gales of laughter. Shian flushed red.
"A-are you kidding?" Albus managed to gasp out as he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Where would be the fun in killing each other? There'd be no one to almost kill the next year at Christmas! Do you guys actually try to kill each other... honestly the funniest thing I've heard today..." Albus's voice trailed off as he recollected himself, grinning from ear to ear. "Don't take it to heart though Shian – it's a simple assumption to make, especially if you've ever seen Rox and James together in one room for an hour or two. Now come on Rose, I've been to all this trouble to get you here and to get this mystery boy of yours here, so come and meet him!"
A red faced Shian pushed her forward towards Albus with a wicked, sly smile that clearly said 'payback'. Allowing herself to be guided through the crowd, which was thinning slightly as the younger years who were openly gawking at the firecrackers were told that they would soon have to think about their eight o'clock curfew (much to their disappointment Rose saw), Rose tried not to think about the fact that she was red faced and still wearing her standard uniform black robe while her hair was, undoubtedly, frizzy and wild after a double of potions to end the day. "I didn't ask you to do this." Rose pointed out as Albus steered her through a small gaggle of third years who were watching the Scamander twins take on James with visual appreciation clear on their faces. "So you could have... I don't know. Not. It's not like I need a boy in my life, you know. I'm doing perfectly fine without one."
"Oh yes, yes, I know." Struck by a thought, Albus came to a sudden halt and turned on his heels. "Are you gay Rose? Is that why you don't date?" Worry was clear on his face. "No, don't take the wrong way, I don't want to offend you or anything! I can find girls too, you know!" His voice rose on the last words as she saw him mentally scan through the girls he knew to find a candidate.
Rose shook her head, laughing. "Al, it's a nice thought, but no. I just don't feel like having a boyfriend. Too much trouble. At least, that's what every girl tells me after James breaks up with them and they're over the hexing him stage."
He let out an audible sigh of relief. "Good. Not because, you know, being gay is bad, but because it's good to know that I haven't been swallowing my foot all these years because I've shoved it that far down my throat, you know? Well, in that case, let us continue towards your mystery boy and you can tell me if you want him then. Besides, James is hardly a good example of what a boyfriend should be like. He should be chivalrous, taking off his hat every time you enter the room, or putting it on if he doesn't have it on and taking it off. All very quick of course, so you don't feel obliged by the fact that he had to put on his hat then take off his hat for you. But yes, a gentleman who should open doors and perform fancy wandwork that spells out 'I heart you', with, mind you, this being a physical heart made out of stars and suns and diamonds and all sorts of shiny things that you girls like, in the sky and makes flowers appear out of nowhere. Oh, and he should always ask you how you are. Like thirty nine times a day, just to show you that he honestly cares about how you're going and what you're feeling. And speaking of feelings, he should speak about them. And not just, 'oh, I hate broccoli', but the deep, manly ones like, 'oh my darling woman, I love you ever so much'." Albus gave a sigh. "So of course, with those expectations in mind, I give you Jason Morgan."
Rose frowned, mind still caught on the imagery Albus had painted (and the laughter she was withholding) to notice the introduction. Flushing red, she turned her attention to Jason, holding out her hand. "Rose Weasley. We have met of course." She added the last part more for Albus's sake than any other. Jason nodded, smiling a tight grin that told Rose he was having just as much trouble reining in his entertainment as she was. "Being in the same year and all."
They had, of course, known each other since the beginning of Hogwarts – or rather, known of each other. Jason was one of those multi-talented types, seemingly perfect at everything. He was a good Quidditch player, good Transfigurer, an adept Charmer (in more ways than one, or so the rumour went) and his mind for potions was seemingly unparalleled, excepting for the prodigy of Rose Weasley. At one stage, there had been a type of competition between the two in their shared classes. The competition, aided and abetted by Albus, of course, had existed through third year, when Jason had announced that he was determined to beat Rose in something and had chosen Ancient Runes. In hindsight, it was a valid choice. Jason had an exception memory, remembering even the smallest details about the most obscure things, but, though he did come close, many, many times to overtaking Rose in their studies, he had not. Though, like her, he had gained an 'Outstanding' O.W.L. in Ancient Runes, Potions and Charms – a very fine effort Rose thought. But he had always existed in her mind in that frame of mind – not as a boy of her own age but a rival and intellectual counterpart. She had never seen if he was handsome before, and it was only Roxanne's words in her ear – he's very dashing – that made her look again.
Rose didn't know if she would call him dashing, for it implied style and class which Jason made no obvious sign of dressing for, but she would call him handsome. There was something about his features, which lingered somewhere in between angular and soft, strong and curving, that was open, warm and sincere, and something about his smile, though it was the barest gleam of teeth at the moment, that made her believe him honest and friendly. It wasn't in those features that she found in handsome, or even in the colour of his eyes and hair, both of which were the same – to be honest, his features were quite plain and common – but his spirit. It was the way it seemed to glow inside his skin like a fire that made him handsome to her.
"But it's always a pleasure." His eyes, warm and brown, dancing with merriment as he brought Rose's hand to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand very softly. Straightening, he glanced at Albus. "Was that gentlemanly enough for you, Al?"
Albus's eyes were caught on Rose's and Jason's still linked hands. "Not quite, but very close."
Rose slid her hand out of Jason's a clearing of her throat. "Congratulations of your O.W.L. scores. Albus was saying that I'd have to watch my back for you when N.E.W.T.s came around."
Jason paid no mind to her words. "What's that in your hair?" He reached out (not up, Rose noted, which was a very good thing) and pulled one small flickering ball of electrical blue from the red strands. It was the size of the beads that Lily had once wanted to braid into Rose's hair, and appeared to be nothing more than a piece of parchment wrapped around a glow of light. She leaned forward to look at the orb closer, only to have it disintegrate in her face, showering her with a cloud of electrical blue dust disproportionate to the size of the orb.
Rose blinked as Albus roared with laughter. Jason, being more tactful, only smiled and helped Rose wipe away the blue with the edge of his sleeve. "It looks very tribal, very party style." He commented with a grin. Rolling her eyes, Rose rubbed away the dust that lingered uncomfortably under her nose. "Goes along smashingly with the green."
Rose glared at Albus, who walked away from the two still cackling. Grabbing her wand, Rose cast a spell with a whisper, feeling the dust disappear. "I'm going to kill Uncle George for this. How is this humorous at all?"
Jason laughed this time. "It's humorous when it happens to someone else, see?" He grabbed another orb of colour and purposely pinched it in front of his face. It exploded in front of his face, turning his skin neon yellow. "See, funny!"
Rose rolled her eyes again in exasperation. "Yeah, yeah, sure."
But she was grinning too.
Disclaimer: all of this ultimately belongs to J.K. Rowling (characters, setting, the world, basically everything you recognise). The plot, the writing – that's mine. No stealing. I have a man eating giant bunny on loan to track you down and gobble you. You have been warned.
LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE
A/N: Thanks to wow for the review – it caught on several crucial points that form the backstory. All I can say in response is that
1. As Dumbledore says in HP1, it takes more courage to stand up to friends than enemies. As it is, Rose stands up to Alexis, a friend, in defence of Scorpius – she just can't with her family. In a way, Rose tutoring Scorpius and electing to continue to despite her cousin's thoughts on the matter is her standing up for her friendship with Scorpius – if James had his way, Rose wouldn't be within ten feet of him. Also about Rose's backbone – she defines herself as the Ravenclaw Weasley, and thus acts accordingly. Mindset is a powerful thing.
2. About the prejudice, this I can fully explain. The Potter/Weasleys are at Hogwarts for nine months of the year without fail, an environment that detests Slytherins and the children of Death Eaters. The mindset of the other houses is that they caused the Second Wizarding War, and children (or relatives) of Death Eaters (Scorpius) more so than others (also, there are very few children of Death Eaters, most of the Death Eaters being in Azkaban and all, leading to Scorpius taking on a large portionof the responsibility for the Death Eaters actions – he is the sacrificial lamb. Furthermore, as very few know what happened the night of the Battle of Hogwarts, the Malfoys are thought to have weaselled their way out of Azkaban, rather than changed sides, bringing further fuel in that they evaded justice). This view is fuelled by those who lost loved ones to the war, such as the relatives of Amelia Bones (Vanessa & Camilla Bones – no, they are not canon. They are the daughters of Susan Bones, who kept her maiden name as a tribute to her aunt). Though Harry would teach tolerance and respect (as would Ron and Hermione too), we must never forget that he also bullied Draco when he could, through insults and taunts, because of the boiling pot environment of Hogwarts. This selfsame environment is ultimately what breeds the prejudices against Scorpius and the Slytherins, as it is expected and more so from the descendants of the Trio. Not to mention that Draco and Harry hated each other – therefore, it's almost expected that their children hate each other as well – and Ron actively pushes Rose to beat Scorpius, which suggests that tolerance cannot be accepted in the case of the young Malfoy. Again, mindset is a powerful thing.
Thanks also goes to Thais Uchiha for their review – sorry about the wait, but if all goes to plan, I should be updating more. As it is, I just took a break to finish plotting and outlining the story, so I now know where everything goes. That being said, I don't know if I will. I'm focusing on completing my NaNoWriMo story as it is, and I've just moved from high school to university... But, addressing your point about the sixth and seventh years having classes together, I didn't think I put any together... I'll have a double check though, I might have accidentally put in a random seventh year... The only other thing it could have been was the study classes, which take place in the common room, so there can be seventh years... hmm... – and xXHPLuvnBandGeekXx, snowflake26 and daysandnights for the story alert.
Feel free to watch, review, hate, flame, be a ghostie, or ignore. But no stealing.
xx
Ghost.