Hey everyone! Sorry this has been such a long time since I last updated, but I've been busy with school and work and everything. Here's the next chapter!
Review responses:
MissesE:I love the three girls together! I definitely think them as a Trio is a very interesting concept that I'm excited to cultivate.
:Reviews like yours are what I live for. Thank you for such a strong review full of attentive criticisms and inquiries. So, let me address them. I think the dynamic between Hermione and Viktor was very downplayed by Rowling. She mainly used Viktor as a way to get everyone to notice how Hermione had transformed and is so much more than just her brains. I think, bring that she's such a cultured person, she's keep in touch with him over the years. This chapter is from Rose's perspective, but I won't have them interact very much until a little later (part of my plan). I don't want Ron's behavior to seem realistic to his character within the books. From what I'm manipulating his character to be, he's very spontaneous and narcissistic. I want him to never seem very rational, and there's a reason for that, as well. As far as Draco goes, I'm using the titles "Doctor" and "Healer" interchangeably. As the Wizarding World evolves, so is its medicine. Draco has attended both Wizarding and Muggle medical schools, so he can be addressed as either. Especially since one of his closest colleagues and friends is involved in conceptualizing Muggle medicine with Wizarding. For Hermione's overall state of fashion and appearance, well, you're right, she never had time to look "good" like most of the other girls. However, for her, "presentable" and "fashionable" are two different things. Presentable to her means simple black skirt suit with white blouse, not bright red pixie pants, chambray denim button up underneath a fitted leopard print blazer, and gold-tipped black ballet flats (which, remember, in this fic the adults have just reached their thirties, so this type of fashion is completely acceptable, especially since witches and wizards age slower than Muggles). Not being dressed up at the hospital is something that I feel all mothers would be when they're too busy worrying about their child rather than their clothes, including Hermione. I chose Lavender for that particular scene because she and Ron already have a history, and it ended badly, and her character seems like to type to practically go after anything that smiles at her. I also never said that there was an actual relationship between the two, but you'll just have to wait and see if I choose to have them do so.
Daphne: I'm a realist, what can I say? The characters get a bit OOC, but I believe that the actions I give them are their hidden personalities underneath and what I want them to be. I try to give glimpses between books characters and my characters.
Rose stared down at the snow as it fell in swirls from the grey sky, secretly wishing that she could be leaving with the hoards of students that were rushing across the lawns to the horseless carriages, yelling and laughing all while throwing poorly-made snowballs and trying to provoke Filch and his butt-ugly cat.
But, there she was, stuck in that goddamn tower, all by herself. Blinking, she pressed her palms to her temples. The headaches she'd been experiencing had been getting worse lately, but Professor Longbottom had attributed them to the stress she'd been facing after finding out about her brother's sickness.
At first, she didn't understand. Okay, her brother was sick. What did that matter? It wasn't until Scorpius had found an armload of books on the subject that she had finally understood.
Her brother was dying.
At first, it was weird, having Scorpius help her. But, since her mother had apparently written him a letter asking him to talk to Rose because she felt that Rose wouldn't open any of the letters she sent her way, Rose felt obligated to listen to him. Of course, being watched like a hawk by the Headmistress and her Head of House meant that she had no choice but to sigh and rip open the thick letter from her mother. After reading it, she had no idea what any of it meant.
That's where Scorpius came in.
He'd sat there, across from her, in the library while she feverently read everything she could get her hands on. While her temper and love for Quidditch came from her father - the father she detested not being able to see and spend time with - she really had inherited her mother's love for books. After three hours and ten books later, Rose had learned that, once again, this was all her mother's fault.
The divorce.
The staying behind during breaks.
And, now, her brother's sickness.
Rose was beyond angry that her mother would do something like this to her and to her family. For the rest of the break she'd have to see her mother and face the fact that it was all her mother's fault her brother wouldn't be smiling for the Christmas holiday.
When the door opened to her dormitory and Professor Longbottom told her of her mother's arrival, Rose was reluctant to go. She knew she'd say something rude to her mother; it was inevitable, but she also didn't want to ignore her. Seeing her mother cry was something Rose wasn't used to, and lately, she'd been the cause of it. For Rose, her heart would tighten every time her mother's eyes would glass over.
But it didn't change the fact that her mother was the cause of everything bad in her life.
The angry thoughts clouded her mind as she scuffed her way down the hall. For a brief moment, she'd been feeling okay, and now another headache had come back, causing her nerves to be on end as she walked into the Great Hall. Her mother sat with Mr. Malfoy - the man her father had taught her to despise, and still wrote her about to the day - going over some large papers with the Headmistress, who was nodding excitedly. Scorpius wandered in right beside her, stopping and whispering so that the adults wouldn't become aware of their presence.
"Just tell her the truth, Rose. Parents hate it when kids lie."
"But why should I give her what she wants? She hasn't given me what I want."
"Because she might give you that if you tell her what you want."
"She knows what I want," Rose grumbled, glaring at the boy who had spent the better part of the year tormenting her.
He smiled, but it wasn't really a smile, Rose figured. It was more of a half twitch of his mouth, but it made his face look both sinister and… comical? She didn't know whether to laugh at him or run away in fear.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say my son was insulting your daughter at the moment," Draco commented, nodding towards the two children at the front of the room.
"Knowing Rose, it's the other way around," Hermione murmured as she turned herself on the bench to face them. "Come sit down, children!"
Begrudgingly, Rose moved forward, taking a seat next to her mother. They were sitting at the Ravenclaw table, and it felt weird not to be sitting in a place she was familiar with.
"How was the rest of your year since the last time I saw you?" Draco asked Scorpius, and Rose watched as he launched into a long spiel of every event he'd done in the month and a half since the last time they'd all seen each other. When he finished, Draco turned to her. "And you, Rose? How has the rest of the year been for you?"
"Alright, I guess," she murmured, staring down at the wooden table. "Are these the official plans for the stadium?"
"Yes, they are. Glad you brought this up. Your mum and I got to talking, and we decided that we can get this thing up and built faster if we enlist some help. Actually, a lot of help. Thankfully, Viktor -"
"Uncle Viktor?" Rose interrupted, turning to her mother. Hermione nodded, and Draco continued.
"Yes, him. He recommend a whole slew of businesses that will be helping us get supplies and even manpower to build the rest of the stadium. You'll have to make sure to thank him," he shot a look at his son, "because without him, we might not have been able to finish this thing on time."
"I'll write a letter to him later tonight," Rose said, squirming in her seat for a moment. She turned to her mother, taking a deep breath. "How's Hugo?"
Hermione smiled sadly. "He's alright. One of Mr. Malfoy's colleagues is taking care of him over break, and Aunt Ginny and Ms. Greengrass are visiting him everyday."
"My mum's going to see him?" Scorpius piped up.
Hermione nodded. "She's just returning the favor." The tone in her voice told the children to not bring it up again, and so they made a mental note not to.
"So what do we do now?" Scorpius asked, looking between the two adults.
"Well, since it's snowing outside today, I thought it might be a nice idea to take the two of you to Hogsmeade since most of our break will consist of getting the foundation down for the field and such," Hermione said, watching her daughter carefully to see her reactions. "Then, I plan on coming back here and looking up a couple of things in the library that I haven't been able to find anywhere else."
"The library, Granger? Really?"
Rose watched Mr. Malfoy's face as he spoke to her mother. There, behind the venomous tone in his voice, laid a glow in his eyes, which were wider than they had been before. If she hadn't figured it out before, she did then:
Scorpius's father fancied her mother.
No! One of the voices in her head immediately cried, wailing at the comprehension. Rose could practically feel her blood start to boil as her eyes narrowed at the blonde man sitting across from her. Her parents belonged together, not these two people. And, from what her father had said, this man had been so rude to her mother when they were her age that Rose couldn't understand why they were sitting across from each other and playfully bantering back and forth about her mother's obsession with all things old and dusty.
Rose got up then, glaring at both adults and turned dramatically, barging out of the Great Hall with tears in her eyes.
As soon as she was around the corner, she slid down against the wall onto the floor and gave into her sobs, feeling her shoulders shake as they raked through her body.
She didn't even hear the sound of footsteps coming from where she had just been.
"Your mother seems to think that you hate her." Rose looked up, glaring at the man sitting beside her. He barely even flinched as he wiped his hands on his designer dress pants and they left dirt marks on his upper thighs.
"Maybe I do," she muttered, resting her chin on her knees and staring at the brick wall across from her.
"Why? She loves you."
Rose snorted, rolling her eyes. "No, she doesn't."
"What makes you say that?"
"If she did, she shouldn't have left my father for some rich guy who decided to kill a mastermind at age sixteen."
Draco stared down at the red-headed girl next to him. She seemed so tiny but so strong, much like her mother. Her eyes were clear despite being filled with tears, and Draco noticed the twitch in her left eye, almost like she was trying to hide something. "Your parents definitely did not divorce because of me. Your mother and I hadn't spoken since we graduated at nineteen."
"Right." Rose rolled her eyes, settling her head back against the brick behind her. Draco did the same.
"Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want to." Rose shrugged her response. "Do you ever… hear voices sometimes? Or even your own voice, telling you to feel something different than what you want?" Draco watched as her eyes slid to look at him out of the corner of her left one.
"Yeah, I'm a freak. I already know that."
Draco frowned. "Who told you that?"
"Some of my housemates. It's okay, though. They hear me in the bathroom when I talk to the mirror."
He nodded. "I talked to myself in a mirror once. Ended up in the infirmary for a little over a week, but still."
"But I don't think it talked back to you."
He smirked. "No, but I did spend the next five minutes attempting to Crucio your Uncle, but I could never cast the spell."
Her eyes widened. "What happened?"
"He hit me with a now-unforgivable curse that my godfather had invented. That's how I ended up in the infirmary."
"Crucio's a really nasty curse," Rose said, glaring at Draco.
"So is fiendfyre," he countered, craning his head to see is his son or Hermione were venturing this way. "So, are the voices telling you to hate your mom?"
She shook her head. "Not all the time. I'm always conflicted, like I feel bad but I'm mad but I just want to lay in bed and sleep all day. Madame Pomfrey says there's nothing she can do for me."
"No, there isn't." He paused, looking down at her again. "Now, I know you're pretty smart. And I know that you know about how your mother's genes mixed with your father's genes have made your brother sick -"
"That's part of why I'm mad at her."
"- And I just want you to know that she feels absolutely horrible about it. I also think you're smart enough to realize that those voices aren't normal."
Rose nodded.
"So, I want you to tell your mother what you're feeling. I think it would be good for the two of you."
"Why should I listen to you?" Rose stood from her spot and glared down at the adult man. "You think you can just sit there and pretend like me telling my mum what I'm feeling will change everything about how angry I am at her? Because of her, Hugo's dying. Because of her I have a Muggle mental disease that is ten times worse because of my magical blood, too. Because of her, I'm here in this castle instead of with my father, who actually lets me do what the voices say because he thinks it's a gift from Merlin!" She spun on her heel then, running away from him.
Draco sighed, standing and pushing his right hand through his hair. This was definitely going to be harder than he thought.
Thanks for reading! Leave a review if you loved it, hated it, or just wanna say hi!
~QueenRoyallt