Hey guys, I know I might be spoiling you with all these updates, but this one I couldn't resist. Not only does this tie up everything from the last chapter, but we also get a really important introduction. If anyone hasn't read any of the previous chapters, I can guarantee that this will not make any sense. Just a fair bit of warning. Hope you're ready for this one.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.
~HP~
Rose completely resented being told that she had to stay in the hospital wing for a few hours. Madam Pomfrey could heal broken bones faster than Harry could clean his glasses, for Prospero's sake! But the nurse had remained adamant that Rose wait this one out, give her body time to heal up completely. She also had to wait for the aching and limping to stop since she had decided to forgo a Pain Potion for an Energy Draught; it was generally a good idea to avoid mixing the two together when it wasn't necessary. So Rose surrendered to her short prison sentence, resigning to listening to the cheers of the crowds outside, waiting for the game to be over. Occasionally, she would speak through the screen that surrounded the bed of the still very ill Emily Block, telling her version of what had happened during the game.
After two hours, people finally started to wander into the wing to see both her and Emily. Harry strode in with the entire Gryffindor team behind him, while the remainder of their year-mates corralled around Hermione. All of them were in very visible, quite loud states of excitement. Seeing this, Rose shifted on her hospital bed to sit with one leg pulled in towards her, while her healing one stuck outward.
"We won the match!" Dean exclaimed, pumping his fist through the air.
"Yeah, we got the snitch!" Demelza added, uncharacteristically giddy. "The final score was two hundred and ten to sixty."
"Bet Malfoy didn't see that one coming!" Seamus laughed heartily. "Losing even with one extra man in the air. He had it coming, I tell you! That'll teach those numbskulls to play nasty. We couldn't have done it without you, Beckett." He not-so-gently tapped Rose on her shoulder, making her wince.
"Ouch…" she squeaked out, nearly crossing her eyes from the quick throbbing pain that briefly took hold. Seamus quickly apologized for his misstep, his cheeks showing his embarrassment. He tried to recover from that by saying, "Anyway, we're having a big victory party later tonight in the common room. You'll be there, right? I mean, you did get us three goals."
"Of course, I'll be there," said Rose. "Madam Pomfrey wants to keep me for a while, but she says I'll be able to leave by supper. A few broken bones can't stop me."
"You're not in a lot of pain, are you?" asked Hermione, standing to the right side of Rose's bed.
"It's better than it was before, still pretty sore though. I just hope that I wasn't hit by friendly fire." Rose glared sarcastically out of the corner of her eye at Seamus. The Irishman was quick to shake her off. "Don't look at me like that. It wasn't me that hit you."
"Alright, enough of that you two," said Harry, stepping forward. "Could everybody clear out for a while? I'd like to speak to Rose alone." Hermione and Lavender both briefly paused to give Rose a gentle hug, but then they left the hospital wing, taking many of the Seventh years with them. Like Seamus said, they had a party to get ready for.
Harry walked around the side of the bed and sat down on the edge, careful to avoid Rose's ankle. Rose leaned forward, her frayed ginger braid falling to hang over her shoulder. "Well Captain, what do you have to say to all of this?"
"The same thing everyone else has been saying," said Harry. "Rose, you were fantastic. We really couldn't have gotten those goals if you hadn't been so quick."
"I have to ask you, what happened out there? I didn't see who hit the Bludger that knocked me off my broom."
"Actually as it turns out, Goyle and O'Rourke got behind that Bludger together, and they hit it at the same time. Believe me, Rose. When I saw it hit you, I felt your pain."
"What happened afterwards, after Neville helped me off the field?" Rose asked, propping herself up on her elbows.
"Time-in was called right after you left," Harry explained. "With one extra player on us, Slytherin managed to score twice with hardly any trouble. Needless to say, we fought back pretty hard. Dean ended up hitting the ground with O'Connell while they were wrangling for the Quaffle. We both got penalty shots for that one, and we both scored. For a while, I thought they were going to kill us. But we were ten points ahead when I caught the Snitch."
Rose let out a joyful laugh before squeezing Harry's arm. "I knew we would kick Slytherin's arse!" she said. Harry patted her hand. "With a lot of help from you, of course."
"Don't make a big fuss about it. I assisted more than anything." Rose shook her head, her cheeks flushing.
"I'm sorry Rose, but when you score three goals, there is a certain amount of fuss that comes along with it." Harry got to his feet again, adjusting the fit of his robes. "I can't thank you enough for giving it everything you had out there."
"You don't have to thank me," said Rose. "I was just doing my job."
"Then thank you for reassuring me that I picked the right people for our team. A few more games like that, and the Quidditch cup will be ours!" Madam Pomfrey approached Rose's bed, and the Head Boy turned to leave. "I'll see you at the party." And with that, Harry left the hospital wing.
"How are you feeling, dear?" Pomfrey asked, setting a glass of water on the nightstand beside the bed.
"Pretty fair," said Rose. "My ankle feels better, but my shoulder is still kind of sore."
"Ah yes, I would expect that for a few more hours yet. I would advise you not to let anyone else touch you there."
"So do you think I'll be able to leave soon?"
"Not so quick, Beckett. You've still got some healing up to do." The Mediwitch stepped up to the foot of the bed, her dress sweeping the floor as she went. "Actually, I came to tell you that someone outside wishes to speak to you. Do you feel up to having another visitor?"
"Sure, send them in."
Madam Pomfrey excused herself and left the room. Rose watched the door through which she left, half expecting a congratulatory visit from McGonagall, or Wicker bearing get-well-crumpets. But Rose was quite surprised when she caught sight of black hair and even blacker wool robes. For a moment, Rose thought Snape was there to see someone else. Eddie O'Connell and Erik Byrne were both undergoing concussion tests in another closed off area of the wing. But her insides were all flutters and butterflies when the Potions master slowly stepped toward the foot of her bed.
"Professor Snape," she said, the professor's name all she could get out. "Wha…what are you doing here?"
"What does it look like? I've come to check on the invalid."
"Don't you worry about being seen talking to me as opposed to one of your own knuckleheads in the other room? Wasn't Madam Pomfrey curious?"
"Of course she was. I however have found that many people have stopped questioning my favor for you. Frankly, many of my colleagues seem to agree with me." Snape stepped closer, making Rose pull her leg in closer to her body. She could clearly see healthy hue in the Potions professor's face, the cold weather probably having a thing or two to do with it. "Well, I must say that was a game well played."
"I'm surprised you would say that considering Slytherin lost," Rose smirked, folding her arms across her chest.
"Only because Potter managed to pay attention long enough to catch the Snitch." Snape ignored the deliberate, over-exaggerated offense in Rose's face. "In any case, since you gave me such grief yesterday, I thought that I come and tell you what a fine job you did."
"Really?" asked Rose, a bit sheepishly.
"Of course. I assumed that you could play a decent game of Quidditch, but needless to say, you far exceeded my expectations. I haven't seen a player that fast and agile in years." Alright, so Severus might have been exaggerating just a little. But really, what better opportunity to convey his real adoration for her?
"Well…I…" Rose tried to say. It was easy to brush off compliments from close friends and allies. But it was something else entirely to hear it from the man she loved. When he said that, she felt like she could single-handedly outscore every last member of the Hollyhead Harpies, or every player in Britain for that matter. She played with the ends of her braid, slowly glancing up to meet Snape's eye. "Thank you, Professor. It means a lot to hear you say that."
"You're welcome, Rose," said Snape, making Rose blush with the use of her first name. "Potter does have himself one reliable reserve, that's for sure. When my house players target someone, I believe it to be more of a testament to their abilities than anything else."
Rose smirked – no – smiled at her professor. "And here I was thinking that Parkinson told Malfoy to knock me out of the sky and kill me."
"Nonsense, no one was going to let you die out there."
"Thank Merlin for whoever it was that cast that spell," said Rose, shaking her head. "The rate that I was falling, I didn't think anyone would have enough time to catch me."
"Well, when you have as much experience with that spell as I do, you find that it becomes second nature." Rose almost brushed off Snape's comment, but then her train of thought slammed into a solid wall. Her eyes widened slightly, not wanting to give away the full extent of her shock.
"That…that was you?" she asked. "It was you that saved me?"
"Yes Rose, it was me," Snape admitted. Rose let her mouth drop open. Words could barely describe what she was thinking at the moment. For Snape to admit that he favored her was a big deal to her. That meant that he cared for her to a certain degree. But what did it mean for him to act when she was in danger, to stop her from being harmed? Could he really be that fond of her?
She searched her brain for the right words. "Oh – oh my god Professor, I don't know what to say! How could I ever show my gratitude to you for doing that?"
"You don't have to do anything, it was the least I could do," said Snape. "I wasn't going to allow one of my favorites to suffer a head injury or worse."
Rose brought up a hand to cover her mouth. The stunned, yet still bashful smile across her face was beginning to get embarrassing, especially when it came back to her that they were in the wide open hospital wing, not the private settings of Snape's classroom or office. She regained proper control of herself, looking up at Snape calmly. "Thanks anyway, Professor. You're probably right. I would have been in a lot worse shape if it hadn't been for you."
"No trouble, Rose," Snape replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "Think of it this way. Now you have one hell of a story to tell your old friends the next time you write to them. They would be proud, by the way, all of them. The way you were playing would have had every one of them thinking they were a Gryffindor for a few hours."
That statement actually made Rose stop and think for a moment. She hadn't really thought about how her long-gone friends would have reacted to the actual game instead of just the mere fact that she was playing. But further reflection told her that Snape was most definitely right. Those three were supportive of anything that she did, so this wouldn't have been different. All of them would have been decked out in red and gold that day.
He might have even turned his back on his own house for her…
~HP~
Gryffindors always had a certain reputation for merry-making. Their parties always seemed to be the most raucous, the most energy-fueled, the most fun really. It was easy to assume that this tradition (or bad habit, depending on who you spoke to) could have only started in Gryffindor tower. And this night and this batch of students would certainly not be any exception. The common room was filled with a white noise of loud music and incessant chatter. A space had been cleared out in the center of the room to form an impromptu dance floor, and bottles of Butterbeer had been brought up by the crateful. Under the nose of their Head of House and quite a few prefects, a few bottles of Fire Whiskey had also been snuck in by a certain Irishman and his certain black best mate. In the festive sort of spirit, Harry and Hermione agreed to let it slide as long as no one got hurt.
Rose made good on her promise that she would get out of the hospital wing by the early evening. She had missed a small portion of dinner, and she still felt the odd twinge here and there, but she was still there and she was ready to party. She now sat in a corner of the common room with Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati, still wearing her Quidditch sweater. Her hair had finally been released from its French braid, and around her neck was the silk scarf from All-my-affection, charmed to flash vibrant shades of her house colors. She was offered a shot of whiskey for each of the three goals she scored, but Rose was never one to drink in excess. She tipped back two of them.
If she wasn't the center of attention before, she certainly was now. Countless kids came up to her claiming that she was the reason they won, all of whom were turned away with a shake of her head and a polite, reluctant smile. She also shot a warning glare at Seamus, Dean, and Ron, who appeared to be the ringleaders in this. It was luck and opportunity, she repeated for the umpteenth time. They could have won that game without her, and they could take that back to poor sick Emily. All Rose could really say to them was that she took what could be her only Quidditch match, and she made the most of it. Their victory was just an added bonus.
Of course, as Harry reminded her, there still no excuse to not have fun.
So have fun, Rose did. She talked, she danced (as much as she physically could), she drank, and she enjoyed the frivolity. Even when she ducked away into a private corner of the stairs, she still relished in everyone's company. For the first time in eight years, Rose felt like she was truly part of her house. They all had a common link, a common joy. For once, she actually believed her own ideals and felt like they were one in the same. She had everything in common with dozens of people.
She felt the same way that she did when it was just the four of them.
~Flashback~
Rose wrapped the gold and red of her scarf tighter around her neck, nimbly traipsing down the dried out paths inside the castle walls. The mid-November air was just as dry, scratching her throat with every calm breath. The approaching winter seemed to suck the noise from the waterside valley. The gentle lapping of rippling waves on sand was all that could be heard on the grounds. The only thing that saved the day was the bright sun beating down on her red hair.
She was out and about, and she was unafraid. Sirius Black got into Hogwarts once; he couldn't possibly do it again.
Her gaze kept shifting to the girl walking beside her. Her black hair was pulled tightly over her head, released in a ponytail in back. Thick ebony brows veiled dark brown orbs for eyes. Those eyes poured over a long roll of parchment, a detailed essay on palm-reading. Natasha Moschovitz struggled to keep her Ravenclaw scarf over her left shoulder.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Tasha," said Rose. "But Divination still seems like a load of dragon dung to me."
"You just say that 'cause you haven't been to a lesson," Natasha said, her light London accent faintly punctured by the gruff lilt of Russia. "It's beyond me why you decided on Magical Creatures."
"Jonny said it would be a good idea."
"Yes, and then you watch Malfoy get mauled the first day. If you ask me, stick to Muggles. There, now we're even." Natasha rolled up her essay and tucked it into a robe pocket.
"Aye," Rose rolled her eyes. "You could wait longer than one term before trying to talk me out of a class. I don't want to leave Jonny alone, not with the Hufflepuffs dropping like flies."
The girls found their way into a courtyard on the west side of the castle. They saw that others had braved the harsh air that day, sparsely spread out across the square. The only thing that sprouted up from the wall to wall grass was the old dogwood in the far corner. The bench underneath the tree was usually the first place to look if you wanted to find this particular crop of kids, no matter who you were, for whatever reason. Three years and this never changed, not even with the cold of winter.
They discovered that their bench was already occupied, but thankfully, it was by fellow Third year Jonny Cederman. His dirty blonde hair was ragged, like he had lost a fight with a pair of terribly hexed scissors. Hazel eyes almost blended with the dying grass. His heavy bag rested against the tree trunk. "Hey, it's about time you two got here," he said.
"I thought that you would be out playing with the giant squid," said Natasha.
"Nah, I haven't got any food to toss out. I think he can tell if I do or don't." Jonny shifted over to let the raven-haired lass sit beside him. "Besides, I wouldn't want to be out there alone, not with Dementors creeping around in the woods."
"I would have gone looking for you if you didn't turn up by dinner," Rose smiled. Jonny looked up at her, his rounded face sarcastically amused. "Aww, isn't that cute? The brave Gryffindor comes to save the poor Hufflepuff."
Rose pointed a thin finger at the bridge of his nose. "Before you start that, get off me. If I did, it would have been the wise Ravenclaw's idea."
The conversation was broken by laughter as Rose sat down, squeezing Natasha in between her and Jonny. Around them, eyes were tossing and rolling. "You know, that joke is starting to get old," the Ravenclaw commented. "We're too obnoxious for our own good."
"They'll remember us, won't they?" Rose inquired. Natasha shook her head with a trite "Tee-hee."
The three bosom buddies relished in the afternoon peace. That is until a pack of young, but ravenous Slytherin girls wandered across the cloister. "Hey Ginger!" Pansy Parkinson called out, already getting a jeer out of her pals. "Don't you know that color's the mark of a dirty broad? Why don't you go and burn the rest of it off?!" It was a brief attack, but it seemed that it was enough for Pansy. Ushered by the always sizeable Millicent Bulstrode, she led her gang into Hogwarts' hallowed halls.
"Merlin, will she leave you alone already?" Jonny griped. "That happened first year, for crying out loud."
Rose played with the ends of her hair, which hung just below her shoulder level. It was moments like this that made her wish that hair took less time to grow back. "I suppose Snape isn't going to let them forget about it. Oh ha, ha! The ginger girl sets her hair on fire, hilarious! Keep it going, it never gets old!"
"Don't get your wand in a knot. I heard Pansy's got cramps, she'll stop."
Rose's gaze gravitated in the direction of the voice. Slytherin robes draped the boy approaching them. For the relatively young age of thirteen, he was a strapping young lad, growing into what surely would become strong shoulders. Soft dark brown hair brushed across the fair skin of his subtly sculpted face. And the eyes that were locked on the three companions were the most brilliant blue. Rose's bright blues were relatively recognizable, but they were nothing compared to the piercing ice that this young man possessed.
"Dante," Rose acknowledged with a warm smile. She shuffled more to the side, nearly pushing Jonny off the edge of the bench. He stood up and leaned up against the dogwood, allowing Dante to sit down beside Rose.
"I have a hard time believing there's ever a time when Parkinson is sedate," said Natasha. "That nasty bint will have her fun with anybody, any day."
"Take my word for it," said Dante, leaning forward to lean his elbow on his knee. "She's always her worst this time of the month, but you know what they say. What goes up must come down. You just have to wait it out until then."
"That's easy for you to say," Jonny sarcastically sneered. "You have the security of being in the same house as her."
"You want a bet on that? She takes the mickey out of me all the time for hanging out with you three. She says that I should be socializing with "my own kind." Well, forgive me if I'm trying to be the civilized one in my year."
"You already are," said Rose.
"Yes," Natasha added, leaning closer to their Slytherin comrade. "And you don't need Malfoy's money to do it."
Dante laughed to himself, flashing a set of fine white teeth. "I think my family and I can handle ourselves just fine, thank you very much." And they probably could, they all thought. While they weren't remotely close to the aristocratic affluence of the Malfoys, Dante's family still managed to have a comfortable life by the shores of Devon.
"Out of curiosity, where were you?" Rose asked, shifting to better face Dante. "You were the one who said we should meet up after morning classes. Why so tardy?"
"I was down in the dungeons, talking to Snape," Dante explained. "He was complementing me on a well-brewed Shrinking Solution. I told him that it wouldn't have been so well-brewed if you hadn't been my partner in class."
Rose's eyebrow twitched up. "What did he have to say to that?"
"He said that it was just luck that you paid attention to what you doing and kept your hair tied back."
"I told you!" Rose whirled around to point a finger at Natasha. "I told you that Snape was egging them on!"
"Unfairly if you ask me," said Dante. "It was just one little accident, and you've gotten so much better since then. You practically saved me today, Rose. I don't know why Snape doesn't give you more credit."
"He doesn't give credit to anyone in my house."
Dante shrugged at Rose's comment; she did have a valid point. "True, but you at least deserve more credit than I do. I'm rubbish at Potions."
"Then boy is it bad luck for you that your Head of House is the Potions master," Natasha said with a certain smirk. Dante sniggered. "Shut up, Tasha."
"You know Rose," said Jonny, kicking his foot into the soil. "I hate to agree with a Slytherin, but Dante's right. You do deserve better recognition in Potions."
"Nonsense Jonny," said Rose. "If anyone deserves credit, it's Hermione Granger. I could never be as good as she is."
"But you're brilliant too," Dante spoke up before Rose could protest. "You're better at brewing than anyone else I know – sorry Tasha." He ignored the slight offense in Natasha's face before continuing. "You'll catch up to Granger in no time. Sooner or later, Snape will see that too."
"It'll take years for that to happen, if it happens at all."
"Come on, Rose. It will happen. You don't give yourself enough credit sometimes, do you know that? I don't care if we're the only three people who think it right now, but a day will come when people recognize your skills. When you're that good at one specific thing, you eventually get noticed for it."
Rose thanked her lucky stars for the chilled temperatures. That way, she had an excuse for the pink staining her pale cheeks. Dante had a way with words, though he probably didn't know that yet. For a Slytherin, he had a surprising talent for perking up your mood by telling you want you needed to hear. It had been that way since their first year. He had gotten her through some tough times in those first few months away from home. Along with Natasha and Jonny, he had been among the first to help make the transition into the Wizarding World, and he showed no signs of abandoning them. It made for an unusual sight, and an equally unusual friendship.
She playfully cocked her head at Dante, lightly punching him in the arm. "If that's the way you think, I suppose next you'll be bragging that you could take on Sirius Black with nothing but your bare hands."
Dante sneered in a very Slytherin manner, proving that he actually did belong in that house. "Maybe not with my bare hands, but I bet I could beat him in a magical duel."
"At thirteen?" said Natasha, stating the obvious.
"Sure, I'm not scared."
"Can I be your backup when that happens?" Jonny asked, giggling.
"Done," said Dante. "Now, I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving. Rose, please tell me that you have some sweets on you."
~End Flashback~
"You okay, Rose?"
Hermione's voice pulled Rose back into the present time. Somehow, she had ended up standing at the balcony by the entrances to the dormitories, and the Head Girl was walking up the steps to meet her. Rose sighed, looking back out over her partying housemates. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had to get away for a little bit. I couldn't hear myself think down there."
"What were you thinking about?" Hermione asked, standing beside Rose and leaning on the stone ledge with her.
"I was thinking about Natasha, and the boys," said Rose. Even now, she still couldn't bring herself to say his name out loud, especially with his face and voice so fresh in her mind. "I was thinking about what they might say about everything that happened today. You know, they did always say that I would be recognized one day, for one thing or another. Oh, if they could just see me now."
"They were right to say that," Hermione said with a warm smile. "Everyone deserves to have their time to shine."
"That they do. It's funny because…because he told me once that Snape would one day see me for more than that accident with my hair. I'll bet that he never saw his Head of House whipping out his wand and saving my arse."
"That was Snape?!"
Rose turned to Hermione's shocked face, a small grin breaking out across her face. "He came to me in the hospital wing and told me so himself. He called me one of his favorites too."
"I should have known," said Hermione, shaking her head with a giggle. "No one could have been quicker with a Levicorpus spell than Snape. He created that spell, did you know that? One of his favorites, he actually said that?"
"I'm as surprised as you are," said Rose. Hermione gently squeezed her best girlfriend's hand. "I know you won't say it yourself, but Dante would be so proud of that. I mean really proud! I think he would have loved to see you get along so well with his Head of House."
"I doubt he would have thought that after our sixth year, but if he were here today…" Rose paused. A knot was starting to work its way into her throat, though her eyes remained surprisingly dry. "You would probably be right. He'd be happy to see how we all turned out. I just wish that he was able to see it. I wish they all could." She felt Hermione's grip on her hand increase slightly, and Rose sighed. She was surrounded by people that she could call friends, and yet she still felt empty. All of the merry-making and all of the celebration could not take away from the absence of Jonny, Natasha, and Dante. The sense of friendly love from Hermione, her passionate feelings for Snape could not erase the heartbreak that Dante had left behind. He was the one who pushed her onward all those years ago. He said that she would have a purpose in this world, that she was worth more than what people thought.
If he had only lived to see the day when everything he said came true.
~HP~
There you have it, folks. I never was very good at writing flashbacks like this, and I'm still not overly thrilled with the dialogue. But like I said, it was simply an introduction. For all my annoying foreshadowing, I do hope Dante does not disappoint. We'll get to know more about him in the future.
The next couple of chapters have quite a lot of exposition involved, so I thought I should warn you guys ahead of time. I'm trying to get these up as fast as possible, and I don't want anyone to get bored.
Thank you so much for reading, everyone, and please feel free to review. My followers I especially welcome. I'd love to hear your reactions to this first glimpse of Rose's past love.