Don't Trust Me, Part 2

Black dress with the tights underneath,
I got the breath of the last cigarette on my teeth,
And she's an actress, but she ain't got no need
She's got money from her parents in a trust fund back east...
Bruises cover your arms,
Shaking in the fingers with the bottle in your palm,
And the best is, no one knows who you are,
Just another girl, alone at the bar.
Don't trust a whore, Never trust a whore,
Won't trust a whore,
Don't trust me.

-3Oh!3

Sincerely, Rose Weasley.

The words emptied every other thought in my brain, my stomach rolling and knotting, a headache exploding at my temples. I felt dizzy, my mouth dry, a lump in my throat rising until I could barely breathe. Rose.

"This is fake," I said harshly, my voice hoarse, glancing up at Celia. She didn't say anything, just met my gaze evenly. I looked back down at the letter, before I took my wand from the clutch in my hand, handing the purse to Celia. I tapped the paper sharply; nothing happened. Oh, God.

I swallowed, my wand in my hand falling to my side. Then I closed my eyes, ducking my head as I felt the lump in my throat get still larger. My eyes were burning. This wasn't happening. Rose was the source. Oh, God. It made so much sense. The letter Rose had been writing on Saturday hadn't been to her parents—that was why she'd covered it with a book when I'd entered the dormitory. And…oh, God. Looking back, it was so obvious. Rose had been getting crazier—that happened, when Rose felt guilty. Rather than apologize, she marched around in a crazy, awful mood. I did the math quickly in my head: the first story had come out days after Rose and I made up from that argument we'd had about Rory. She would have had to be Rita Skeeter's source back when we'd still been fighting. But even with all those facts—the ones that made so much sense, the ones that convicted her—I still had a question.

How could she have done this?

I was her best friend. I was her cousins' best friend. Her parents had custody of me and my little brother. Jesus. Rose had destroyed everything. Panic swamped me, suddenly: Rose had destroyed everything. I had no home but hers, even if I was refusing it. I was homeless, again. And we were roommates. I had to see her. In my room, in my classes.

How could she have done this?

I pulled away from Celia, feeling dizzy and teary as I walked unsteadily towards the Great Hall. There was a rushing sound in my ears and my head was pounding and I realized, distantly, that I should have cared that I, Molly Gale, was close to tears. Then I realized, with more than a healthy dose of bitterness, that I had nothing left to lose. It didn't matter if I cried.

Albus, Fred, and Maia were just inside the door with Liam and Hayley Sparks. I walked up to Al and Fred, biting my lip as I felt desperation race in my veins; this was bad. Everything was gone.

"Molly?" Albus's voice was stark and confused, and the first thing to cut through the rushing in my ears. I glanced up at him, and I saw the shock register on his face; my eyes were too shiny, filled with tears that hadn't yet spilled over. "Are you…crying?" He asked a beat later, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. I just ducked my head. I couldn't tell them. If I did, I'd lose them. I heard vague chatter around my head as I stopped listening; after a few moments, though, Fred's voice returned to my consciousness.

"What's wrong with her?" Fred's voice was urgent, and I felt my gaze drift out of focus as I lifted my head and looked past the boys—I had to find Rose. I had to find out how she could have done this to me.

"Love what is wrong?" Albus's hand cupped my cheek as he tried to capture my attention; I glanced up at him, and the first tear finally spilled over, tracking down my cheek. Al wiped it away with his thumb. "Molly," Al's voice was serious bordering on panicked, "you have to tell me—"

"Rose is the Prophet source." I said hoarsely, and everyone stopped. The words hurt me to say, but they were true, so I looked past them again, feeling oddly numb as my tears paused, my eyes still watery. I couldn't look at them—I couldn't look at Albus's face. Rose hadn't only betrayed me. She'd betrayed him. She'd betrayed all of us.

My gaze slid over the room, before I spotted Rose with Rory, after a moment. She was laughing and touching his arm lightly; he was grinning at her. It suddenly occurred to me: Rose had lied. Rory had told the truth. It had been Rose who asked Rory to the dance. It had been Rose that had lied to me to hurt me. To fool me into thinking that I'd been used yet again to get to her.

How could she have done this?

I crossed the dance floor, my unsteady heels making me stumble once, but I didn't care, moving forward and pushing past people. Rose only looked up at me when I got to a few feet from her, when it was unavoidable that I was standing there. She stared at me for a second, her smile dying on her lips.

"You're the source." I said rawly, my eyes burning once more; beside her, Rory's gaze snapped to me sharply. I glanced at him, and his eyes widened; there was no way I was lying. Rory took a step back from Rose, who looked at him sharply.

"No, it's—Rory, it's Celia," She said pleadingly. She looked back to me. "It's Celia." She told me, her voice louder, as if that would make it true.

"No." My voice was shaking, badly, but I didn't care anymore. I didn't have a single thing left to lose. Not even my pride. Because that had shattered the moment I realized how wrong I'd been about Rose. "No, you're the source." Rose stared at me, her eyes getting shinier. She was going to cry. "I know you're the source." My voice cracked. "I have the letter you wrote to Rita Skeeter—" I held up the paper in my hand; my hand was shaking too. I was half-way gone already, but I couldn't get enough of a handle on the facts before me to be able to take charge of my reaction. "The one you wrote on Saturday. You—you told me you were writing your parents." I took a panicked breath in through my nose, the roaring in my ears returning full force. Rose was just staring at me, and I found myself getting frustrated with the panic racing across her features, the way she was running her hand through her hair. How dare she be panicked? I was the one whose best friend had betrayed her. "How—" My voice broke midway through the question, "how could you do this to me, Rosie?"

Silence.

The silence was so deep, so smothering, that I realized, even past the rushing in my ears that made me feel sick, the kids around us had fallen silent. The silence was spreading, too; it was getting quieter and quieter, and I heard teachers—who were on their dais, surveying the dance—asking what was happening. It made me want to gag, made me want to shake someone, made me awnt to scream. I couldn't fix this. I could fix my parents, I could fix my siblings, I could fix Albus and Fred and everyone else.

I had no plan.

This was not on the Molly Gale list of anticipated disasters. This didn't exist. This had never been a hypothetical situation, this had never been a nightmare, because this was not an option. I wasn't strong enough for this. Thus, I couldn't fathom what exactly it was I was supposed to do should it occur. If I'm not strong enough, than whatever I do won't matter.

"I'm sorry." She said to me, after a moment, her voice higher than it should have been; it was shaking, just like mine.

"But how could you do this to me?" I repeated hoarsely, staring at Rose. She'd pushed me to this breaking point. Surely I got a response from her regarding the motive.

I heard, behind me, Albus and Fred push to the front of the crowd around us; Rory was standing a few feet from Rose, having edged towards me until there was a triangle around us. Albus and Fred's voices were saying something me but there was a haze—a panicked, angry haze that had pushed everything else out. I couldn't hear anything but Rose, couldn't see anyone but Rose. Couldn't feel anything but Rose's overwhelming betrayal. How could she have done this to me?

"I…" Rose began, before she bit her lip, her tears spilling over and leaking down her face. Then she just gestured to Rory. I glanced at him, and he looked back at me; he had no idea what was happening. I looked back to Rose. "You took Rory." She said softly.

Rory.

My mind spun. Rory. Surely…Rory couldn't be this? I closed my eyes, ducking my head and pressing my hand to my forehead, trying to remain upright. She meant I'd dated Rory. Past that, the only thing I could think of was the fact that Rory had been one of the few eligible bachelors at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that had not had the privilege of dating Rose.

Rose had never dated Rory. She dated everyone. Everyone but Scorpius, whom she liked. She didn't date boys she genuinely like—too many emotions, too messy.

I remembered, suddenly, something from September first, when we were on our way to Hogwarts; Rose had been talking to Rory and mentioned Albus, and then told me she was doing me a huge favor by making him jealous. No. She'd been trying to discourage Rory from dating me. She'd probably started the conversation to flirt. And it'd turned to me and in her effort to turn Rory off of me, she'd laid the groundwork for the cheating accusations. And then, later on—what Liam had said. Rose had purposely talked about Albus and me in front of Rory. And if Rory had been worried before, with confirmation from my best friend, it would have seemed probable that I was cheating on him. More than probable. Definite. Oh, Fuck.

"You broke us up." I realized after a moment. Rose said nothing. I felt something like panic well in my stomach as I felt my hot tears start up again; they just kept spilling more and more. "You—my best friend—broke us up." I swallowed. My brain was swirling—I wasn't calm enough to figure out what was happening, here. "This was about a boy?" I asked after a moment, my whisper low and scandalized. "We've been best friends for five years and you let that go because of a boy."

Rose was still just watching me tearfully, and then she shrugged a little, as if helpless. "I liked him." She said helplessly. I shook my head at this realization, my head spinning. I felt myself take a step backwards, then another, and then I turned, starting towards the door, my arms wrapped defensively around myself.

"Molly, wait—" Rose said tearfully behind me; I ignored her, staying en route towards the door. I was going to flip out—I felt it coming on, I always could. That sort of crazy, nothing-left-to-lose feeling in my stomach, the tears in my eyes. The pandic that had seized me the second I figured out that Rose was the source and hadn't let go since. I had to get out of here before I snapped. But then she said the words that pushed me over the edge. "Molly, no, don't do this."

I felt the sadness, the hurt, the betrayal, turn to anger in a heartbeat.

I spun around suddenly, hate on my face and in my voice as my tears thickened. "No!" I spat at her, starting towards her angrily. "I am not doing anything!" My words were scathing and tear-laden. I saw, in my peripheral vision, Albus stare at me. He'd never seen me this angry. I'd cried when Dad kicked me out. He'd seen that, and I guess that would be traumatizing. But this? This was a disaster. "You did this! You did this to me!" I sobbed, pushing my hair out of my face. "I was your best friend and because you ended up liking the boy I was dating, you destroyed me!" The words tore from me in a panic. "My new boyfriend is your cousin—your date is my ex-boyfriend—your parents are supposed to be raising my brother and me—you are my best friend and my roommate—you have taken all of that from me!" I sobbed, pressing my hand over my mouth as I stared at Rose tearfully; she was crying hard, now, too. This was a disaster, but she had done it. "I have nothing, Rose. Nothing. I don't even have a place to fucking live—" I swiped at my cheeks as my voice dropped, my tears thickening. "Your parents have no desire to be raising me, and I get that." I pushed my hair out of my face. "But I thought I had you on my side." I swallowed, staring at Rose.

"I'm on your side—" She tried, her voice pathetic and weepy.

"No you're not!" I said desperately. "I am having the worst year of my life here, Rose! I am trying—trying so fucking hard—to keep my head above water! I do not have the—mental strength—to juggle you and your crazy and how incredibly frustrating you are because I have siblings and an abusive father and a mum who just cries in the corner instead of helping her kids!" I sobbed. "I can't—can't pull you up too! I can't do it!"

I stopped talking, and Rose sobbed as we both stopped, staring at each other. My arms crossed against my chest defensively, tears running down both of our faces. She'd destroyed us.

Longbottom fought his way to the front of the crowd around us, and I glanced up at him as Rose wailed softly, lifting her hands to cover her face; apparently the appearance of her pseudo-uncle was too much. "What the hell is going on?" Longbottom demanded lowly, striding from where the crowd ended to where Rose, Rory and I were standing. I said nothing, and Longbottom looked at Rory. "Someone tell me what's happening." Rose sobbed, and Professor Longbottom glanced at her sharply. "Now."

"It's not mine to tell, Professor." Rory murmured.

"Someone has to explain it." Longbottom said firmly, turning to me; I saw the boys, who we. "Miss Gale." He said after a moment, his voice gentler; I looked up at him, tears still coursing down my face. "Oh, dear. " He murmured, seemingly having just realized I was crying. "Alright, let's move this to my office—Mr. Corner, Miss. Weasley, Miss Gale…" there was a moment of hesitation, before he gestured to Al and Fred, both of whom were standing ten feet from me, looking angrier than I'd ever seen either one of them. "Are they involved?" He asked Rose, Rory and I. Longbottom wasn't stupid. He'd seen Fred, Al and I all year; anything I was involved in, they inserted themselves into.

"Yes." Albus said firmly, stepping forward; I looked to him and he met my gaze seriously, my eyes boring into his. I wanted to go back to ten minutes ago, when all that had existed was this dance and Albus and me. But that wasn't an option.

"Alright, you two too." Longbottom said. "My office. Now."

I swiped at my eyes with shaking fingers as I turned towards the door; the silent crowd of kids parted, looking away embarrassedly at being caught watching us. I just kept my gaze on the floor, stepping forward unsteadily; when I was almost out the door, my shoe shifted and I almost fell, but Al's arm slipped around my waist, catching me effortlessly and keeping me up. I glanced up at him, miserably. Albus looked just as miserable.

This was a disaster.

Ten minutes later, the Potters, both sets of the Weasleys, and Rory's dad were standing in Longbottom's office with Rory, Rose, Fred, Albus, and I. Everyone had gotten here without much fuss, and proceeded to be confused and alarmed the moment that they'd realized that Rose was sobbing into her hands, and I still had tears streaking down my face. Fred and Al had sandwiched me between them protectively, and Al had given me his jacket, because I was cold and this dress wasn't exactly covering a lot of me. But now Albus had his elbows on his knees, his hands folded, while he glared at the ground. Rose's betrayal was hard for me. But for Albus…Rose was like Nate was for me. I felt terrible for him, in the inch of myself that I hadn't already given to feeling terrible about Rose.

The adults couldn't seem to decide who had done what wrong, and they shifted nervously in silence behind their children before Fred's dad was finally the first to speak. "So, kid," Fred's dad began in an easy-going voice. "As much as I love standing in Neville's office with half my relatives wondering exactly where my parenting skills went wrong…" He walked around the couch that Fred, Al and I were on, crouching down in front of Fred. "Why are we here?" Fred didn't look at his dad, instead glancing at me, his face hardening as he met my teary gaze. He glanced past me to Albus, then down.

"No one will tell me." Longbottom murmured, his gaze flicking from kid to kid; Mr. Weasley rose, looking shaken at his son's reaction. He strode back around the chair, walking behind us, and I saw, in my peripheral vision, him exchange looks with his wife. I glanced back to Longbottom; his gaze was on Rory and Rose. "Miss Weasley, Mr. Corner—you're both prefects. I expect better behavior from both of you. Tell me what's going on."

"It's not mine to tell." Rory insisted lowly, looking over at me. I met his gaze evenly.

"Then Miss Weasley." Longbottom said firmly. Rose didn't look up, still sobbing into her hands, and I felt my own tears thicken. I hadn't stopped crying yet. I couldn't. Not with Rose still so close, not with Albus's new-found lost temper. "Miss Weasley, please." Longbottom said, his voice gentler. "We can't fix this if we don't know what's happening."

"Rose," I finally said hoarsely, looking up at my ex-best friend; Rose sobbed, but lifted her face to look at me. I felt my voice shake and break; my tears thickened, and I lifted a hand to swipe at them. "Rose, tell them!" I insisted.

"Stop it." Mrs. Weasley snapped at me, her voice harsh and her eyes angry; I spared her half a glance, but I didn't care. She didn't want me. She'd never wanted me. I had nothing to lose with her.

"Rose, tell them!" I said again, but my voice broke off at the end of the sentence; I lifted a hand to press to my mouth. "Tell them what you did." I whispered.

"Molly!" Mrs. Weasley's voice was loud, almost a shout, and this time I looked up at her, tears running down my face. There was no sympathy there, though. "I am tired of this behavior!" She said angrily, stepping towards me. "You don't get to talk to me that way, not to my husband, and certainly not to my daughter—" She took another step forward and I flinched backwards, more out of reflex than anything else. Dad yelled, he lashed out. So I flinched when people yelled at me. And that made everyone shut up.

"Hermione." Rose's dad said lowly, after a moment. "Don't yell at her."

"It's fine." I murmured, dropping my gaze. "She never wanted me." I felt a small, bitter smile work its way on to my face. "I get it. She's not the first." The silence that met my words was enough to confirm their truth, and I looked up at her fiercely. "But just because I'm the worst fucking kid to get stuck with doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"You're not the worst kid to get stuck with." Albus said harshly, looking up at me; I thought his eyes were red-rimmed like he was as near to breaking point as I was, but I might have been wrong. He looked past me after a moment, to his aunt. "And just for the record, Aunt Hermione, she's really not. You're just a really, really bad guardian."

"Albus." Mr. Potter scolded, frowning at his son. Albus twisted to look back at his father, disbelief on his face, but I reached over, putting a gentle hand on his arm; Al's gaze flicked to me. I met his gaze, my misery clear on my face; he stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head, falling silent. My hand slipped down his arm to grab his hand, and he wrapped both his hands around mine, lifting it to his lips; I ducked my head as he brushed his lips against my knuckles. I wasn't sure how Albus and I had gone from our new relationship to this level of tenderness. But we were here.

"Alright." Longbottom said tiredly, and I looked up at him in time to see him looking at Albus and I curiously; one of Al's hand released mine, until it was just one hand holding mine. "I appreciate that mistakes have been made, and they're worth discussing. But right now, we're here to discuss whatever happened in the Great Hall."

Silence again, and I heard Mr. Potter sigh. Finally Albus looked up angrily at Rose; I tightened my grip on his hand. "You're such a fucking coward, Rose." Albus murmured. Rose sobbed into her hands.

"Albus!" Mrs. Potter said angrily. Albus didn't even look at his dad.

"I mean—Jesus, Rose. When we were sorted, I thought I was the one that didn't belong in Gryffindor." Albus's voice was rough and angry; I felt a new wave of tears swim in my eyes, but I blinked them away. "You were brave. And outgoing. And you cared about everyone that set foot within twenty feet of you." He paused. "I've never been so wrong." Rose sobbed again, and Fred cursed under his breath, running a hand through his scarlet hair. Albus stopped, shaking his head. "How could you do this to Molly? And what about Fred? And me? We're all in the papers."

"That's not Rose's fault." Mrs. Weasley murmured.

"Yes, it is." Fred murmured calmly, looking up at Mrs. Weasley. "I'm sorry, Aunt Hermione. I get why you're confused. We are too. And she's our best friend." Fred shook his head. "Rose betrayed us."

"Oh, no." Longbottom murmured, glancing from us to Rose, realization all over his face; I felt my tears return, full force as they rolled down my face, and I ducked my head, swiping at them; Al released my hand to smooth a hand over my hair, and I glanced at him miserably. Longbottom finally understood. "I thought it was Celia." He continued after a moment.

"So did we." Albus murmured, his voice harsh.

"Thought who was Celia?" Rose's dad demanded. "Who is Celia?"

"Celia Goyle—she's a Slytherin girl who has it out for Molly since her dad and Molly fought when Cormac played a prank on her brother." Longbottom murmured.

"Goyle?" Fred's dad caught the last name and hung onto it, looking at me. "You fought with Gregory Goyle?" Fred's dad asked me, and I glanced up at him tiredly.

"He called her a Mudblood." Albus murmured, lifting his gaze to meet his uncle's.

"He did what?"

"I called him a name first." I muttered.

"Only because he called Cormac—something, I don't really remember—"

"Will someone explain to me what the hell is going on?" Fred's mum said irritatedly. "Because it sounds like—"

"Rose is the Prophet source." I heard my voice, hoarse and loud and raw, say aloud. I kept my gaze on Rose, refusing to look at the adults. I couldn't see the Weasleys' faces. I couldn't see their expressions as they learned Rose was a traitor. "She wrote to Rita Skeeter, several times. Told her all about my life." I pushed my hair out of my face. "Told her about my dad." I swallowed.

"Oh, Rosie…" Rose's dad murmured, and Rose sobbed, ducking her head.

"I'll admit it though," I said, my voice getting higher and tighter as I stared across the room at Rose's weeping figure. "The thing that gets me—the thing that gets me every single time I think about it—is why she did it." I felt that scary smile—the one with the anger and the panic and the bitterness—unfurl across my face. But finally, the anger returned, full force, and I grabbed it and ran with it. "Guess. I dare you." I said, looking up at Mrs. Weasley. "I dare you to guess why Rose did this to us." I repeated. Silence invaded us again, but this time it threatened to strangle me, so I plowed on. "Rose liked Rory." I glanced pointedly to the boy sitting between Fred and Rose. "Even though he was my boyfriend. And she encouraged me to date him. And never ever once said anything along the lines of I love Rory so piss off." I looked back to Rose; the moment my eyes landed on her, I felt my tears thicken. "So rather than talk to me, she convinced my boyfriend I was cheating on him, and blabbed to the press." I felt my anger ebb away, despite my desperate attempt to hold on to it; instead, I was just left, still talking, emotion thickening my words and making them dangerous. "I think by the end," My voice was trembling, "you convinced yourself that I really had cheated." I swallowed. "But I never did."

"You've liked Albus since summer, Molly." Rose said to me, her voice caught between angry and distraught. "That's practically cheating—"

"No, it's not." Rory murmured. Everyone glanced at Rory; they were the first words he'd said since admitting that this was not his battle. And he was really the person who decided what was true, here; I was theoretically the cheater. If he said I didn't cheat, then I hadn't cheated. "Molly told me she didn't cheat and I should have believed her." He paused. "But it's ironic that you don't know the definition of cheating, when you have cheated on practically every boy in this school." Rose looked hurt, her glance flying to Albus, Fred and me. We used to defend her against that type of charge, despite the truth of it. Now we'd left her to the wolves.

But she'd done it first.

"Alright." Albus's mum was the first one to recover from this news. "Let's—Molly and Cormac should not be spending break with Rose. Let's start there." She said softly. I turned to glance up at her. "I would suggest our house, but Ron and Hermione traditionally spend the holiday with us." She paused. "Also, I'm under the impression you're in a relationship with my son. So you sleeping over at our house would be…" She let her voice drift off. "Irresponsible."

"You let Sera stay." Albus muttered angrily.

"James is about as touchy-feely as a porcupine." Mrs. Potter told her son wryly. "I'm not too worried."

"She and Cormac can stay with us." Fred's dad said firmly.

"It's fine. Cormac is staying with friends." I murmured, glancing up at him. "And I can stay at the Leakey Cauldron."

"I thought you were both going home for Christmas." Rose's mum said softly. I glanced up at her quickly; she looked sad. Just impossibly sad. Another consequence of letting Molly Gale within ten feet of you; I tore people up, destroyed families. Nate and I were now pulling our friends' families down with us, though.

"Dad's gotten worse." I murmured tonelessly, my gaze dropping to the ground.

"How much worse?" Mr. Potter asked me worriedly. I bit my lip, glaring at the ground. I hated this. I hated that these people wanted information when I so obviously had none—I hated it.

"Last weekend," I said carefully, not allowing myself to look at Longbottom; he was going to be mad, "I went home to tell Dad that I couldn't send Cormac home for break. I lied to Professor Longbottom, said I was going to Cal's soccer game." I bit the inside of my mouth, forcing myself to keep everything very cut and dry. "I argued with Dad—he said he was going to charge me for kidnapping if I didn't send Cormac home, and I told him about how he didn't even have custody anymore—he—" My voice broke off. I rubbed my forehead. "Long story short, I fell backwards down some stairs, hit my head, scraped up my arms, and broke my wand." I looked up at Mr. Potter, twisting to look at him. "I haven't heard from Nate and the twins since."

"Do you think they're okay?" Mr. Potter asked, looking deeply worried now; I swallowed.

"Nate can take care of himself." I said, the only response I could give. Because even though I knew—I knew—that Nate could take care of himself, I had no idea whether he was okay. That was what was wrong with my family. Even self-sufficiency wasn't enough to protect you.

"Your mum will take care of them." Rose's mum said, and I shot her a brief, disbelieving glare, before I glared back at the ground.

"Do you think I got here, sitting in this room with adults I don't know trying to figure out where I'm supposed to live, with a mum who cares about what the fuck I'm doing?" I asked after a moment.

"We can have this talk in a few days. At the house." Mr. Weasley said firmly, then he ran his hand over his red hair. "Molly will spend break with us, Cormac will spend break at his friends'." There was a beat of silence as he let that go. "In the meantime—Neville, can the kids go? It's been a long day for them, it sounds like. They could use some rest back in the dormitories." I swallowed, looking down. I had to sleep in the same room as Rose tonight.

"Sure." Longbottom said tiredly. "Don't go back to the dance though—there's a fair amount of kids who would love to question you lot." I nodded once; that had never been part of the plan. Fred, beside me, loosened his tie; I reached down, rubbing my sore ankles. This dance had been an ill-fated plan; I was not the type of girl who attended dances, and Fred and Albus were not dress-up-and-play-it-sweet types. We couldn't have predicted how wrong this had gone, though.

Fred got up first, exhaustedly; he turned and offered me a hand up. I took it, letting him pull me up, before I looked back to Albus. He was still glaring at the ground. I opened and closed my fist, before I held out my hand for him. I was not the kind of person that offered people a hand up. But Albus was Albus. And as much as I was hurting, he was too. Rose was his best friend. Rose was my best friend.

Albus looked up at me, his eyes dark, then looked at my hand. After a moment of uncomfortable contemplation, he took it, and I pulled him up; once he was up, he kept a hold of my hand, and I leaned against his arm, letting him hold me up for a second. This had been the worst day that I'd maybe ever had. Including Dad kicking me out. Because with my dad—he was the devil I knew. Rose, on the other hand…she'd imploded like a super nova and was dragging Fred, Al and I into her newly formed black hole.

Albus glanced up at his parents, before pressed his lips together in a tight-lipped smile. "See you tomorrow." He murmured, and then started towards the door; I followed him, Fred in our wake. Their parents spilled out after us, and Albus and I only got halfway down the hall before my high heels, the ones that had been unstable all night, finally gave out from under me; Al caught my waist in a heartbeat, keeping me upright. Fred slipped in front of us, turning to look at us as I glared down at my shoe.

"Great." I muttered, swallowing the unreasonable tears in my eyes as I reached down to grab my high heel, pulling it off my foot and staring down at the broken shoe. I bit my lip, looking up at Albus. These were Rose's shoes. She'd lent them to me, and I'd broken them. "It's broken." I said with a shaky voice, and Albus ran his hand through his hair, looking down at me. "Another—fucking-broken—thing." I ground out, past the lump in my throat, as I glared down at the shoe in my hand.

"How could she do this?" Fred said lowly, and I glanced up at the boys. It was just us three, here—about twenty feet away, the adults were clustered in front of Longbottom's office; Rose was standing uncertainly beside her mother, while Rory strode in the opposite direction. Rose had done this. Rose's betrayal had done this to us. Rose had been one of us. And then she'd turned and destroyed us.

"I've never hated someone I'm related to, before." Albus whispered.

"I thought…" I swallowed. "We were best friends."

Rose had destroyed us.

There is a unique painfulness to being the only person living in a dormitory meant for five. Rose had apparently decided to go home for break tonight rather than via the Hogwarts Express tomorrow, because in the time that it took me to walk back to the Dormitory, Rose's side of the room had been emptied of everything, her clothes had been packed, and her trunk had been taken away by what I could only assume were the house elves. I was now the only occupant of my room.

I stood uncertainly in my doorway, staring at the emptiness in front of me. My side of the room was always sparse, especially this year, when I hadn't been able to pack thoughtfully. Now, though. It barely looked like someone lived here. My stomach hurt at that thought—I was the transparent girl. I could be there if you wanted me, but I so often wasn't wanted that I'd long since learned to disappear at will. I could pack in a second. I could be gone in the next.

And now I wanted nothing more than to disappear.

I wanted to pack and drag my trunk to Longbottom's office and demand I be allowed to go home. The only reason I didn't was because I knew I wouldn't be long for home; Dad wouldn't let me stay. Mum would cry in the corner but say nothing. Nate would yell. And at the end of the day, it wouldn't matter. I would still get hurt. I would still have to leave.

I felt so homesick, though. I was homesick for my lack of magic. When I'd been muggle, I'd been normal. Dad hadn't hated me. Nate and I hadn't gone days without speaking, leading both of us to worry. I hadn't been trying to raise an eleven-year-old boy on a salary of nothing. I missed that so badly. More than I can express, I missed being part of the Gale family. But there was nothing left.

The weird thing was, there was nothing left anywhere. My best friend had stabbed me in the back; my new legal guardians didn't want me almost as much as my parents didn't. The Wizarding World was no better than the muggle world, despite my parading around like I was perfect and safe here. Things were bad everywhere. But the danger of the Wizarding World was that I was pulling down all these people I wasn't even related to, here. Back home, the Gale family was a spectacular implosion of disasters, but, until recently, we'd only sucked ourselves into our death spiral. Now, Mum had dragged Mr. Causer in. And here, I was sucking the Weasley Clan, in its entirety, down. Rose wasn't this person, usually. Fred and Albus had never had a family member turn on them before. I'd gotten farther into their family, and things had gotten worse. If I'd thought I was strong enough to give up Albus and Fred, I would have. But I couldn't.

I crossed to my bed, sinking down. I grabbed one of the few photographs on my bedside table—Nate and I at Mum's hospital bed, when she'd had Cormac. Mum and Dad were both beaming, and Cormac was a scrunched up little baby, and Nate was pulling my hair and I was punching his arm with a glare. It was one of my favorites—even more so than the one taken when Cal and Ellie were born. By then, I'd already started to be weird, my magic overflowing. Dad had already started to get uncomfortable with my yet-undefined magic. Here, we were just the Gales. These people were happy, with loving parents and bratty but sometimes-redeemingly-sweet children. We loved each other.

I forced myself to put the photograph back down on the table, turning it facedown. I closed my eyes, ducking my head. Those Gales, the happy Gales, were behind us. They were long gone, with their happiness and their love and their normalness. They were friends with the Roses of the world, and they were normal. They no longer existed.

All that was left was me.

The train ride back to London the next day was long and miserable. Albus, Fred and I sat with Gavin and Mikey, and, once he had abandoned the prefect car, Liam. I kept my gaze fixed out the window, watching the Scottish countryside pass me by. I couldn't listen to the inane chatter between Gavin and Mikey, or Liam's periodical angry rants, which Albus joined in on. I began to count the sheep we passed, trying my hardest not to think about Rose.

Eventually, I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, the train had started rattling more—we were pulling into London. I kept my eyes closed, knowing that we were still another 10 minutes from getting off the train and hoping to fall asleep for another ten seconds. But then the conversation caught my attention.

"You two are actually dating, now?" Liam's voice was low and serious.

Albus must have nodded, because Fred spoke next. "Took you long enough." Gavin snorted in laughter at this.

"Shut up." Albus muttered. "It's been a weird year. I didn't want to…" He stopped, sounding awkward. I swallowed.

"Were you about to say take advantage of her?" Fred demanded, his voice low. The silence that met his words was enough. "Have you met Molly?" Fred asked, but he kept his voice quiet. "She got in a argument with a known death eater. If your dad hadn't done the job, I would peg Molly for getting rid of Voldemort. You couldn't take advantage of her if you tried."

"Rose did." Albus said darkly.

That shut Fred up, and made me wince internally, though I was careful to keep my expression clear. I didn't get taken advantage of, that much Fred had right. I was not that girl.

But Rose hadn't been that girl either.

And I think that was why Rose's betrayal hurt so much—I'd had her wrong. I didn't trust myself anymore. I saw that something was up with Rose—I did not see her writing letters to a reporter about me. And we were best friends, roommates. She'd used my trust—the trust I doled out so sparingly.

"Fuck her." Fred said suddenly, and I resisted the instinct to jump. "Forget her. We're related, but fuck that. I don't care anymore."

"Neither do I." Albus said firmly. I swallowed. They were lying. It was the same way I lied to myself, to Nate—sometimes people needed to pretend things were alright. If we pretended that Rose's betrayal didn't matter, if we pretended that we didn't care, maybe it would stop hurting quite so much. Maybe every step we took wouldn't be down the same painful road we were already halfway down. Because Rose had been family and best friend and she'd turned her back on us.

But rather than tell the boys all this, I continued to pretend to sleep.

Fifteen minutes later, the boys woke me up as we pulled into Kings' Cross station. We got off the train silently, dragging our trunks after us; after Albus tripped over his, we gave up and magicked them. We made our way across the platform, spotting Fred's dad's and Al's mum's red heads near the entrance.

"Albus," Mrs. Potter said warmly as we reached them; she hugged her son, and Al hugged her back reluctantly. Fred's parents both hugged him, and I watched uncomfortably, crossing my arms against my chest.

"How was the train, guys?" Fred's dad asked, clapping his son on the back but looking up at Al and myself.

"Long." Al murmured, glancing at me. I nodded once. There were a few beats of awkward silence.

"It'll be nice to be home, though." Mrs. Weasley said, looking from Fred to me. "We made up a room for you, Molly—it's currently a light yellow, but you can change it if you want—"

"I'm only staying for a break, I thought." I murmured, frowning a little at Mrs. Weasley. That was an awful big offer for a two-week stay; I was just a visitor. They were offering me a place to stay for Christmas—just for Christmas.

"Do you have another place to go for summer break?" Mrs. Weasley asked me, her voice frank but not unkind. I stared at her. That was the heart of it, wasn't it? The Weasleys were standing here offering me a real house—some place I could leave the clothes I didn't need, and keep the things I didn't want to cart around with me. And I didn't have another place to go.

But Cormac.

"Cormac." I said after a moment, my eyes narrowed at Fred's mum.

"We'd be happy to have him." She said easily.

"For as long as I'm there?" I asked.

"For as long as he'd like." She agreed. I bit my lip. I was tired of this game—this constant running game. I didn't have Rose anymore—all I had was my screwy family, and Albus and Fred. I could use a place to live—a nice place where I didn't have to bang my head against the wall to keep my dad in line. A back up plan. This could be my back up plan.

"I…" I hesitated. This went against every single rule I had. Back up plans were not something I did. I just followed my rules. They were all I had. But Rose had proved the rules wrong. "I guess, sure." I muttered, rubbing my forehead. "I'll run it by Cory, but…it sounds…" I swallowed. What did it sound like? "Nice." I finished lamely, looking down. This made me uncomfortable. "I'll leave when I turn seventeen, take him with me." I added after a moment, my voice fast.

"We'll discuss that later." Mrs. Weasley said amiably. I glanced up at her sharply, my eyes narrowed.

"Daddy!" Lily exclaimed happily, leaping at her father and interrupting what would have been a good protest from me.

"Hey Lily bell." Mr. Potter said fondly, hugging his daughter, and I pressed my lips together, silencing myself.

"Hey Mum, Dad." James said easily as he came up, flashing his parents smiles as Lily hugged her mum. James glanced at me, nodding, and I met his gaze evenly, not reacting. We hadn't spoken since he'd acted like such an asshole to me, yesterday. But I didn't care.

"Molly?" Cormac's soft voice asked, and I turned a little, looking down at my little brother, who'd just come up beside me. He was in normal clothes, having changed out of his robes, and it was striking, now that he was standing there in his polo and jeans, that his clothes were short. Really short. I had to buy him new ones but I had no money. Great.

"Hey kiddo," I said, forcing a smile onto my face; Cormac was the only person who I felt obligated to pretend to be cheerful for. I glanced up at the Potters and the Weasleys—Mrs. Potter was watching me, and I put my hand on Cormac's back, leading him a little away from the group so we could have some privacy. Cormac seemed grateful for it; as we stopped ten feet from the group, his shoulders dropped and he looked up at me.

"Are you really spending break at the Leakey Cauldron?" Cormac asked softly. I hesitated, then shook my head.

"I'm staying with Fred and his parents." I said with a small smile. "They offered to let us stay with them for a while…" I pushed my hair out of my face, studying my little brother. "I'm taking them up on that." Cormac's expression lightened a little. "You would get your own room, they said, and I bet they'd let us change the walls if you wanted to. You could leave things there, and—"

"I thought I'd be allowed to go home eventually…" Cormac said, frowning up at me. I swallowed.

"I don't trust Dad, Cormac." I said, my voice firm. "He wanted you home for this break, and I went home to tell him that—last weekend—and Dad was pretty awful." Cormac's eyes widened. He stared at me for a moment.

"Are we ever going home?" HE asked me softly. I swallowed.

"I'm working on it, Cory." I murmured. He nodded once, watching me wearily, and I forced my smile to return. "I'll pick you up on Christmas Eve to see Cal and Ellie's pageant, okay? And I'll see you on Christmas—"

"I haven't heard from Nate in a while." Cormac muttered. I felt a wave of weariness sweep me. I didn't really have the energy to do this.

"He's been MIA with me too." I said softly. "I'm tracking him down this weekend, I swear." I told him, noting the panic that entered Cormac's expression. "Maybe I'll even bring him by the Kader's to see you—I'm sure he misses you." I let the words, comforting and fake as shit, flow off my lips with ease. I used to worry that I lied to easily about my family—when I was twelve, I'd had a crisis of conscience, believing I'd go to hell for lying to everyone about my family. It'd kept me up for entire nights. But then it'd occurred to me: all my family was, was lies. We lied to each other, we lied to other people—it was the only thing that kept the Gales all in the same house. And now we were too deep inside our own lies to stop. So I just held my breath for a moment, let it out, and kept lying. "Either way," I faked a smile, "we'll see him at the pageant." False. If I couldn't reach Nate before the pageant, I was going into full panic mode.

But I had to lie.

"Okay," Cormac said, relaxing a little. I nodded once, shoving down the inkling of guilt that made my stomach knot, and reached out and hugged him, tightly.

"Have fun with the Kaders," I murmured to my baby brother, kissing the top of his head; he hugged me back, unabashedly. "And take care of yourself, and wear two pairs of socks if you play in the snow and—"

"Molly!" Cormac groaned, pulling back, and I felt a small laugh bubble out of me. "You sound like Mum…" He said resentfully, but he was grinning up at me; I ruffled his hair. No, I didn't sound like Mum. I sounded better than Mum. And I took a lot of pride in that.

"Go have stupid fun with Roger and Neela and if you don't floocall me, I'll come and embarrass you at their house." I informed him. Cormac nodded seriously. "I'll see you on Christmas Eve at the very latest, okay?" He nodded again.

"Love you." He said after a second, his voice soft, and I ruffled his hair.

"Love you too, kiddo." I said briefly, and he nodded, then started back towards the Kaders. I watched him, making sure he got to them, before I started back to where the Potters and the Weasleys were, my stomach knotting.

Albus met me halfway, slipping his arms around my waist, and I put my hand on his chest, letting my other slip around his neck. I looked up at him, my expression serious; Albus looked angry.

"I have to leave soon." Albus's voice was tight; I reached up with the hand on his chest, pushing his hair back from his face. "I don't want to…" He hesitated, his gaze raking over me to gage how I might react to his next words, "I'll miss you." He amended after a moment. I swallowed.

"I'll miss you too." I murmured to him, looking at him seriously. "And I don't miss people."

"I know." Albus murmured to me. He shook his head slightly after a moment. "I can't believe this." He whispered.

"I know." I murmured, ducking my head against his chest. "Me either." I hesitated, then slipped my arms around him and closed my eyes, hugging him tightly. He pressed his face into my hair, running a rough hand over the back of my head. "I'll be fine, you can crash Fred's house whenever you want—you know that." I whispered into his shirt.

"Everyday." Albus swore.

"Mm, this is fun, guys, but do me a favor and stop sexing each other. It's kind of exhausting for me, because Molly's like my sister, and it's kind of making me want to shove you into moving traffic—" Fred popped up beside us, and I pulled away from Albus to hit Fred's arm; he yelped.

"I hate you more than I'm actually able to verbally express." Albus told Fred with a frown.

"I'm taking your girlfriend home with me—"

"Fred, I'll punch you."

"Alright, then." Fred said easily. He turned to me. "Molly, care to go home, now?" He asked me. "Before my good cousin beats me with a stick?" I shrugged. Fred nodded, looking to Albus. "You'll come over tomorrow." He said, his voice lacking a question. Al nodded, and I relaxed. I could do that.

Fred slipped his arm around my shoulders. "Alrighty, Mollilicious, let's go—"

"Keep calling me that and you'll be missing your arm before morning." I told him. Fred grinned down at me, but I saw the shadow in his eyes. Rose had forced us to the point where even Fred wasn't entirely happy. He just kept faking it because he was Fred.

"Understood," He said, pulling me after him towards his parents, and I sighed, following.

This was going to be a long Christmas break.

A/N: WHAT THE WOAH. You guys. I got 28 reviews for this chapter. 28. Holy Lord in heaven. It was amazing. You guys are the all-time best and your reviews were all so sweet and personal in addition to being numerous… I don't even know what to do with you. Except thank you all for how incredibly amazing you all are.

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