Earn It

In the Kitchen

Filled with butterflies

Reeling

I haven't written for the past couple of days, and I am incredibly sorry. I have been so busy and, that's all I can say. I've been busy. So many things have happened since dad first came up with his "plan". Where to begin?

Here is what dad told me the plan was. We were going to go to Diagon Alley and here was where I was going to confront Scorpius. His family was planning on being there all week, to unveil this big deal new book called "Voldemort's Army: In the Mind of the World's Biggest Regret". In my dad's words, "Draco Malfoy decided to do the whole world a favor and write a book about himself, not the entire wizarding world can be in misery". Despite my dad's less-than-supportive thoughts about the book, it is causing a huge stir in the wizarding community, both positive and negative. The negative response is mostly from the many families who lost family to Voldemort and his cronies. (Another gem from my father, "He had to find SOME way to torture people after he left Hogwarts. He probably doesn't know how to deal with himself if he wasn't making somebody else's life bloody miserable.) But there are other people who think that this exposé of the "socially deviant" mind can help prevent any Voldemort-esqe occurrences farther down the line.

Then there's everyone else in the world that really don't care. Last Fall Scorpius mentioned that his dad had written a book. "It's all he focused on all summer. But not like you normally picture and artist suffering for their craft. He has decided he is like the writer of Hogwarts, A History or something. That what he is writing is bound to become the greatest work of literature. Ever. It's absolutely revolting. I bet no one will even read it." But he never talked about it after that, it just wasn't that important.

I guess he was wrong.

There were witches and wizards streaming through Diagon Alley when we got there. It wasn't time for students to be purchasing their things for school, and there were no holidays for months. If someone had been living in a hole they would be absolutely flabbergasted, until they saw the magical streaming marquee that wove its way around the buildings though the air above Diagon Alley's patrons. "Draco Malfoy, the author of "Voldemort's Army: In the Mind of the World's Biggest Regret" in Borgin and Burkes TODAY!!!" There were animated posters of either Mr. Malfoy's face or the famed book's cover. The posters of Mr. Malfoy were moving like every other wizard picture, but they all did something different. In one he was smiling, except it looked more like a condescending smirk, and he was walking around making green smoke appear in the background. In the other he was frowning and surly, glaring intently at all the passers-by. The third one I saw was a picture of him conjuring a miniature dark mark that hovered above his other open hand, then he would turn to sneer at whoever dared to look. None of the pictures made him appear friendly or congenial. If this all was not enough, after only walking a few meters from the leaky cauldron you encountered the end of the massive line twisting and turning through the streets to the entrance of the book store, itching to meet the menacing man in the pictures.

"Bloody hell," dad murmured, sounding injured or ill at the sight of all the chaos, "this whole place has gone mad!" (I looked at him and he did seem a little green. Unless that was the green sparklers that shot into the air every thirty seconds, giving the Alley a continuous Slytherin-like glow, even thought it was only three o clock in the afternoon).

Until this point the Alley was still bustling with motion and energy. People talked and, despite the decorations and the sparklers, everything felt somewhat normal. Then slowly a hush settled over the crowd. This sounds very dramatic and believe me it was, I don't know if anyone knew what exactly caused the sudden silence. The sparklers stopped shooting and the marquee stopped and remained motionless, suspended in mid-air. The whole alley felt like it was holding its collective breath.

Then there was clapping, not a lot just one set of hands, joined by a few other sounds of people clapping theirs. It was a slow and steady clap though, like everyone clapping to the beat of their hearts. Dad and I were baffled, only about twelve people in the crowd were clapping, which just confused us even more. Then we saw him. Draco Malfoy walked out of the Leaky Cauldron. Well, he strut out of the pub, walking is a generous term for it. He stepped slowly and kept his head high, as if making sure that everyone saw him on the way to his own book signing. Then I realized he was walking in time with the claps of the people's hands. A few people joined, but the slow, purposeful, and somehow haunting tempo stayed the same.

I looked at dad who was staring at Mr. Malfoy like he was the absolute scum of the earth. "He's set this all up, I bet the sparklers were his idea too! Look at that." He nodded at one of the posters. All of the Draco Malfoys has stopped strutting, sneering, conjuring, or smiling, instead they were bowing down and Mr. Malfoy slowly made his way toward the book shop. "He is so full of himself." Dad muttered.

Eventually Mr. Malfoy actually made it all the way into the small book shop. The clapping stopped and the posters began doing whatever sinister or pompous action they were supposed to be doing, but it took the crowd a little longer to recover. Some people whispered to each other and others just looked about nervously as if waiting for something even more unnerving to happen. At some point the conversation picked back up and people forgot about the strange entrance Mr. Malfoy made.

At this point we were planning on inconspicuously meandering into the book store and accidentally running into Scorpius. But that became impossible the moment we entered Diagon Alley and saw the people cramped between the narrow walls. So we decided that the safest place to come up with a plan b would be in the Leaky Cauldron. And I think dad needed to sit down and not see Draco Malfoy's sneering face every two feet.

The pub was still more crowded than normal, as any person would expect. "I'll be back." Dad said as he weaved through the dense crowd toward the barkeeper. I found a small table cramped in the back corner and sat down. In the elation of all of the chaos I had not realized how absolutely TIRED I was. I hadn't slept much the night before in giddy anticipation of what was going to happen. Like a little kid before their first day at Hogwarts. But at that moment, the pub was warm and the lights were dim compared to the bright sparkly vestige outside, and it felt like all of the sounds fuzzed together into a dull hum.

I don't know how long I slept. It could have been seconds or hours or days. But I know that I dreamt. I was in line in Diagon Alley, holding a book, surrounded by anxious people, sparklers were spewing lights and posters were covered in pictures of one man. The strange thing was, that every time I looked at any of the posters the man's back was turned and I could not see his face. There were children screaming, people talking, vendors advertizing their products in loud boisterous speeches. And eerily, like déjà vu, everything went silent. And again there was the clapping. And I started clapping along. Clap, clap, clap, to every beat of my heart. While my body seemed to understand what it was doing, my head was utterly confused. Then a tall man stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron, taking a step for every time my hands snapped together. I felt like a puppet-master, even though I had no real control at all. So I kept clapping to the slow almost sorrowful beat. Then I saw his face, and at that moment every poster turned and sneered directly at me. Hundreds of Scorpiuses drilling their eyes at me, burning holes in my already breaking heart, and then he said "Look what you've done." I snapped awake.

(This is a brief interruption in my long story to let you know, I still have no idea what that dream meant. But I am sure that it meant something. It all felt incredibly real, and I thought for certain that it was actually happening. It has to mean something!) Anyway…

I looked up and saw that someone was sitting across from me. At first I didn't know who it was. She had long blonde hair that was perfectly straight (no one has hair like that naturally, I'm sure about it. I should look it up) and a somewhat pretty face if it didn't slightly resemble a pug. She had piercing blue eyes and a smirk that gave me shivers. "I need to talk to you Rosie Weasley." And then I was panicking, just a little. You aren't supposed to trust strangers, but was she a stranger? I mean, this woman knew her...oh.

THIS was the Mrs. Pansy Malfoy. Dad said that after Voldemort came out in the open and the Malfoy family was unveiled as a family of Death Eaters, Draco felt like he had no options and any respectable girl would want to be with him. So he settled for the girl that used to fling herself at his feet all of their years at Hogwarts. I don't know if that's true, or if dad is just smearing Draco even more than he normally does.

She sniffed at me, as if doing this was exceptionally painful for her, and turned her cold eyes at me, and I saw where Scorpius got his beautiful eyes, "Yes?" I asked meekly, absolutely terrified of this woman.

"I know that there was…something between you and my son. I know that you two were romantically involved and that because of who your parents are you both decided to hide it. And I know that eventually this is what unraveled your relationship." She said this quickly and matter-of-factly as if the faster she said it the less painful it would be. Then she looked away looked in the direction of one of the holey walls, "Naturally, I was glad when everything fell apart for you two. I couldn't have my only son, spending his time with the spawn of a filthy mudblood." I flinched, still too afraid to actually say anything, "But, if has become painfully obvious that my son doesn't care about that. He's become spineless and quiet. Mopey. Malfoys are not people who mope. I told him to snap out of it. To become a man and deal with this with dignity, like a Malfoy should." I didn't see where this was going. Obviously she and her husband still didn't like me and didn't want me to spend any time at all around their son. And, this long eloquent speech was doing nothing to make me feel better.

But she wasn't done. Mrs. Malfoy took a breath and continued. "And for the first time my son dared to argue with me. He told me things that I thought he could not possibly mean. Things about you and him that made me want to retch." Yes, she said that the thought of us being happy made her want to throw up, this was not the happiest experience of my life, not by a long shot, "I said more things, and he said even more things. I don't want to get too far into detail. The point is, as much as I hate to say it. You make him happy. And I want him happy again. I wish I could be strong like Draco and tell Scorpius that you don't matter. But, I just want him to come back. He, just, he," she fumbled for the right words, "he needs you. And I can't stand to see him like this." Then she stood up and left before I could even say a word.

She got to the door before I could find my tongue, which was practically glued to the top of my mouth. I stood up and ran after her, "Mrs. Malfoy, where is he?"

After this heartening talk you would think that Mrs. Malfoy would be more cooperative. Silly me. "I can't to everything for you. You are going to have to do that for yourself. I don't want my son with a lazy weasel of a girl. You have to earn it." She sniffed then turned back, "But do try to make it fast. I am tired of that son of mine moping like the little boy I didn't raise him to be." She gave one quick nod, as if she were trying to reassure herself instead of me.

Turns out, he wasn't in Diagon Alley. This is getting more complicated. Can't that woman help me out even a little.