A/N: It's been quite a while since I last wrote any fanfiction...at this point I am considering 1) rewriting this whole fic; 2) finishing it but having weird writing style continuity issues; 3) leaving it unfinished, or 4) taking it down. Opinions?
Rose was the kind of girl who put herself into things wholeheartedly or not at all. She was the kind of girl who hated and loved in violent shades or black or white. She was the kind of girl who loved to be the one to dive headfirst into things, confident and reckless - and the girl, who, if she got caught in some corner, would rather face the consequences than worm her way out.
She was the kind of girl who wore her heart on her sleeve.
She was the kind of girl who could not stand not getting what she wanted, because holy fuck she if she wanted something she was going to sweat fire and blood for it. And if she didn't get it still...
"Crushed" was the understatement of her life. She would drown herself in unfeeling, in cold, clear-cut things and corners. She would rather be gloriously numb than feel the ache, the disappointment. She would rather be spared that twisting and the runheartrun whenever she saw him in the hallways - but most of all she doesn't want to feel the way that twisting tightens and rises to her throat, beckons tears to her eyes and humiliates her. Never has she hated herself more than this. (It's a shame, really, that she can't hate the person who's causing this, even if she wanted to.)
Once, when she had cried as a child over an infantile crush and rejection, her mother had gathered her in her arms and told her she should be proud of having felt that way about anyone at all. That she should be proud of how open-hearted she was - and those words had comforted her. Something would work out someday, even if that someday was so distant she couldn't see it; even if getting that someday meant she had to chase it and drag her ragtag sleeves along the ground and hope that when she finally reached that someday, her heart wouldn't be too beat up for him to want it.
She was a proud girl when she could muster it. When she had the heart or energy. But right now, as the end of the year looms closer and closer, she barely cares that people whisper or go silent when she's in the room. She's stopped caring that people see her cry. She's even stopped reacting to people asking if she's doing okay, and they've learned that all the questions in the world won't make things any better. At least they could say they tried, she supposes.
"Rose," Alia nudges her. "We can't do all your packing for you...we have to be out of here in a few hours - "
Rose flicks her wand noncommittally, and things after clumps of things - clothes, books, other items of little interest - fling themselves into her suitcases. She flicks her wand her again, and her bags barely clamp shut. She barely notices Alia biting her lip in worry as the two of them make their way to the train, their suitcases in tow.
James, Hugo, and Lily are there waiting for them, and as a group they file into the train. They manage to fit into a single compartment, bags and all, with a small space left just in case another member of the family were to show up. Rose's heart twinges a little, knowing who they were saving the seat for, where that missing member was...no, who that missing family member was with.
The train starts to chug. She fades out the conversation.
She dozes in and out, staring out the window. It's gray outside, and cloudy, soon to rain. She wonders how she'll spend her summer. She wonders if there will be any family get-togethers. She wonders if any family members will bring friends.
She wonders when she got to be so pathetic.
Someone raps on the compartment door. At Lily's "come in" it slides open - Rose's eyes rise to the newcomers and her heart ka-thumps once - hard - before breaking into a frenzied rhythm.
"We only have space for one," James scowls fiercely. Scorpius looks down coolly at him from beside Albus.
"Whoever said I came here for your company?" the Malfoy scoffs. "Albus here wanted to drop by. I don't intend to stay."
"How about you piss off entirely?" Lily snaps. "And you," - she turns angrily to her brother - "Who said you could bring that scum here?"
"Who gave you the power to control who I'm friends with?" Albus retorts. "Besides, it's not like he wants to be here. I only wanted to say hello and see how everyone was doing."
Rose does her best to ignore how his eyes flicker toward her before he fixes her gaze on Alia. Rose does her best not to look at the blond boy standing next to her cousin, and fails miserably. Rose does her best to swallow the lump that has appeared in her throat and hold back the tears that are only a badly placed glance away from tumbling into a full-on sob-storm.
"'Scuse me," she mumbles as she stands up to leave.
"Rose - " Alia starts.
Rose bites her lip, shakes her head, and shoves her way out of the compartment. She swings her body a bit too far to the left, but her motion isn't broken by a soft collide with a lean body. No, it is deliberately avoided, and she stumbles instead. She bites her lip harder and does her best to gather her broken-china pride as she directs herself to the bathroom.
She lets the tears fall. She lets the humiliation smolder in those tears and allows the pain to overwhelm and shake her as she half-holds her breath, wanting to hide this shame from ears that might be loitering right outside.
She wants so badly for him to demand what's wrong like he had done earlier in the year. She wants him to look at her and smirk - hell, at this point, she would settle for just looking. She can't remember the last time he looked her way without his eyes glazing over her.
She wants him more than she can remember wanting anything else. She wants just a little bit of him - a glance, a smirk, a smile - and that want itself makes her hurt.
"Oi, lady! You've been in there for about twenty minutes and I've really got to piss!"
"Sorry," she says, her voice thick from crying. She blows her nose as quietly as she can and unlocks the door. She flinches when she recognizes the girl waiting for her to vacate the bathroom.
"Erm," Nora Terrence teeters back and forth impatiently. "If you could just move..."
"You," she says hoarsely. "You and..."
"Look, ginger," she snaps. "I've been waiting to take a leak for half an hour! Now if you'd - hey, hey, why're you crying?"
"I'b sorry," she chokes. "Go ahead," She staggers out from the doorway.
The Ravenclaw continues to rock back and forth, eyeing Rose uncertainly.
"You stay right here," the girl tells her. "I'll be two minutes."
Rose nods. She'll take any excuse not to go back just yet.
The door re-opens. The girl wipes her hands on her jeans and appraises Rose with a quick up-down sweep of her eyes.
"Me and?"
"Hbb?" she sniffles.
"You said 'you and,'" Nora said. "Me and what?"
"Oh," Rose falters. "N-nothing."
"Nothing my ass," she snorts. "Tell m - "
"Crying again, Weasley?"
Rose's heart runs miles and miles ahead without her. She is left to turn and stare at the boy looking down at her with all the contempt in the world.
"Keep moving," Nora jerks her thumb behind them. "Nothing to see here. Nothing involving you, anyway."
If only you knew, Rose thinks dully.
"I highly doubt it involves you, either," Scorp points out coolly. "It's not like you two have met before."
A hint of a sneer as he says those words. Rose's heart ka-thumps once - hard - and she holds tight of the voice struggling to rise past the lump in her throat.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
The spite in her voice surprises even her. She sounds ragged and her nose is still rather stuffy, but somehow she has found enough spirit in herself to be angry.
No. "Somehow" is not the right word. Of course she should be angry. She should be furious. He has completely ignored her for the past she-doesn't-even-know how many weeks, and now that she's in a humiliatingly vulnerable position, he chooses to say something? Only now that she's exposed like this, he chooses to strike? She should be furious that he affects her this way and that she can't control it.
And now, it's no longer "should." She is.
He is taken aback. He fumbles for suitable words for a few seconds.
Nora snickers from beside her.
"Al - " he begins.
"If he's so fucking worried about me, tell him that he should say it to my face instead of making some greasy git play messenger," she seethes. "I'm sick of all this tip-toeing around, constantly asking me if I'm okay and telling me to do things he knows I can't - "
"Alia," he interrupts. "Not Albus."
"They can all go to hell!"
Scorpius raises an eyebrow at her words. Nora retreats from the scene, not wanting to become entangled in the apparent mess that is Rose's life.
"If you weren't so wrapped up in yourself, maybe you'd have noticed that they've been trying to help you - "
"They haven't been helping me!"
Compartment doors start to slide open, the occupants curious or annoyed at the commotion she was causing. She might have cared, once. But right now she really couldn't care less.
"Then what do you call their concern?"
"Nothing!"
"Well, considering how much self-pity you've been drowning in, it's no wonder they haven't been able to do much," he sneers.
A split-second reaction, and her knuckles are smarting; his face is red and he's stumbled several steps backwards. It's completely silent except for her heart beating in her ears, she's fighting the urge to look down at her guilty hand as if it had struck without her knowledge and he's staring at her with such disbelief in his grey, grey eyes -
"Fuck you, Malfoy."
She turns around and doesn't look back.
A/N: I apologize for the quality. I felt everything was stagnating and decided a bit of action would help. No one can be emo for that long without dying or having a breakdown. She's gotten sick of being ignored, and there's only a thin line between unrequited love and hate.
As for the end, she's going back to the compartment. All questions from James and company will be answered with "I had to use the bathroom." I just thought this section would be strange after that scene.