Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I never will, either…
3
Fred and James were at the other end of the table, eating their eggs in silence. Neither of them looked injured. Rose shook her head and turned her attention back to the Ravenclaw table. Chris still wasn't there. He was supposed to be there. And where was Al? It didn't matter. He was probably talking with Hugo about the properties of unicorn blood or something of the sort in the back of the library.
"Rose, I need to talk to you."
Rose swiveled around and saw Chris standing over her, a man dressed in a muggle suit a little ways behind him.
"What's wrong?" she asked, standing up.
Chris put his arm aggressively around her shoulders, pulling her out of the great hall. The man with the suit lingered by the Gryffindor table.
"How could you tell them?" he hissed, dragging her down the hallway.
"Tell who what?"
His fingers dug into her arm.
"Tell your darling cousins I abuse you? I do no such thing."
"Chris…I didn't…"
"Shut up."
"But…"
He pushed her against the wall, the stone nipping the side of her forehead.
"Chris…"
"I don't want to hear any of your excuses," he snarled, pinning her against the wall with his thick forearm.
"What're you…"
His hand came up and slapped her across the face.
"Shut up. It's your fault all of this is happening. It's all your fault."
His hand slipped around her neck. The back of her head ached against the hard stone, her lungs struggling to fill with air. He punched her in the stomach, quickly emptying her lungs. Her eyes widened, tears surfacing.
"It's your God-dammned fault Al got hurt!" He punched her again, the force making her vision blur. "And it's your goddamn fault that I got kicked out of fucking Hogwarts!" He punched her again. "It's all your goddamn fa-
-"
"Chris!"
The pressure relieved on Rose's neck and her legs crumpled beneath her, her eyes closing as pain washed over her body. There was scuffle in front of her, but she didn't take any heed. Her mind spun and her vision blurred. She closed her eyes, trying to fight for a breath, and fell asleep.
3
"I'm fine, Tony," Fred said, nudging away from her. "It's just a little nosebleed."
"It isn't just a nosebleed, Fred. You've been bleeding for twenty minutes, now."
"I'm fine."
"Fred…"
"Go see how Libby's doing."
"Libby's fine."
"She's passed out and her leg is…"
"I'm fine!" Libby growled from a few beds away.
"Rose…Rose?" Fred jumped out of his bed and hovered over his cousin.
"What's wrong with Rose?" James shouted.
"Stay still, Potter," Madame Bouchard commanded, pushing the redhead back in the bed.
Rose looked up at Fred and then rolled over, burying her head into the pillow. She fought against the ache in her forehead and didn't move.
"Oh come on," Fred said, tugging at the blanket. "Don't be like that. I didn't even do anything wrong!"
"Leave her alone, Fred," Tony said, her voice low and threatening.
"Or what? You're going to kick me out?"
"No, I will," Madame Bouchard said angrily, walking over to the pair and grabbing them by the upper arms. "Go get dinner or go to bed or to class or something. Just get out of here!"
She pushed them into the hallway and shut the door after them. Rose could still hear them arguing.
"Drink this, dear," Madame Bouchard said, putting a cup of potion to Rose's lips.
Rose took it in her hands and slowly tipped her head back, grimacing as the bitter liquid burned her throat and her neck ached as she tilted her head back. But the potion warmed in her belly, giving her a heady, comfortable feeling.
"Now try to get some sleep."
As soon as Rose's head rested against the soft pillows, her eyes were heavy and any thoughts she had were caught in the web of dreams.
3
Greg didn't say anything, but he sat down next to Rose's bed, offering her a plate of food. She set it aside, not particularly hungry.
"You should at least try to eat," he said quietly, leaning back in the chair.
Rose knew he was just doing his job; he had taken a position as healer assistant as a part of the school's extra-curricular program. Madame Bouchard had given his assignment of watching her in front of Rose; there was no use hiding it. Lazily, he pulled out his wand and flicked it at the radio. The Harpies-Torandoes game came on. Rose ground her teeth and glared at Greg. He knew very well that there was a Cannons game on in…she quickly checked her watch…five minutes.
"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, his voice still low.
She rolled her eyes.
"Well, I suppose we'll just have to listen to Swod who just got traded to the Harpies again."
"What?" Rose tried to yell, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again, but with the same result. She bit back rising panic and continued her thought. "Who the fuck did the Canons replace her with? They did think that through, didn't they? Merlin's dirty underwear I hope so…" Her voice completely gave out. She cleared her throat and grimaced at the sting and tried to continue her rant with no sound.
"Trust me," Greg said. "They got a good replacement."
"Who?" she mouthed, unable to force out any sound.
"Guess."
She made a rude gesture.
"Wood."
"Seriously?"
Greg just grinned and switched the radio channel. An interview with Wood. Her heart skipped a beat. The Cannons had gotten Wood. She sighed and leaned against her pillow.
"Seriously?" She turned to look at him, his lips in a tight grin. He nodded.
She closed her eyes as the teams walked out onto the pitch and envisioned the game like she usually did, forgetting where she was for a few minutes.
"Alright," Greg said, interrupting her assessment. "You need to eat something so I can get out of here. I have potions in ten minutes."
"I'm not hungry." A husky sound escaped her lips.
"Don't force it," he said. "Chances are, your voice'll come back later. Straining it now won't make it better faster, you know."
"Shove it. I'm trying to listen."
"Sorry. I can't read lips that well. Now take some food, will you? Wolfe is going to skin me."
Rose crossed her arms and glared at him. Why couldn't he just leave her in peace?
"Alright, let me try a different approach." He leaned forward in his chair. "You want to get out of here?" He waited for a response Rose refused to give. "I know you do. Bouchard isn't going to let you out until you start eating normally. So…the more you eat, the sooner you get out. Sound reasonable?"
"I'm not hungry."
His disposition changed in a second, his eyes flaring with a fierce emotion, his hands clenched on his knees.
"Merlin, Rose! What the bloody hell happened to you?" he demanded, his hissing tone barely louder than her own whisper, his eyes wide. "What did he do to you? You don't even know, do you? Fuck. He's such a fucking asshole." He stood up, the back of his neck red. "I'll leave you to your game. That's all you seem to care about."
3
Rose wore her tie loosely around her neck, not likely the way it felt when secured tightly, and the top button undone. She gathered her hair in a loose ponytail and went up the stairs to charms, her head down and her gaze focused on the stone floor. Everyone was staring at her. It wasn't a matter of opinion, but fact. Everyone had noticed Al's absence and Hugo's eye patch, Fred's bloodstained school sweater and James's slight limp. They knew Chris wasn't in school anymore and that Rose hadn't said a word since getting out of the hospital wing. They all wondered, but none of them had enough balls to ask.
Silently, she took her seat at the back of the class and dropped her bag at her feet, not even bothering to take out her book. It wasn't like she didn't know what Flitwick was going over, anyway. Instead, she removed a packet of papers with the stats for every quidditch team in the B league and started going through the draft picks, figuring out which ones she would take and which ones she would leave behind if she was coach of the Cannons.
Flitwick didn't notice. He never did. Neither did any of the other professors. Either that or they didn't want to talk with her. Whatever.
She was definitely taking Demetrius Johanason.