Chapter Eighteen: I Write Sins, Not Tragedies

Chapter title taken from the Panic! At the Disco song.

"What will little Emma do when she finds out what you did to her?"

Long chapter ahead! A lot is going on here, and you'll finally get to meet Emma! Thank you in advance for reading :)

"Malfoy?!"

Draco smirked, his shirt half unbuttoned. "Took you long enough, didn't it?" He grabbed a bottle of wine and popped the cork, pouring it into a glass. "Want some?"

"No I don't want some of your fucking alcohol!" she stammered as he laughed. "What are you doing? What the hell are you laughing about?" she smacked him against the head, to which he grabbed her arms, pinning her to the wall.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he slurred in a low voice, the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. "You won't win that fight."

Rosalind opened her mouth, tilting her head to the side. "What do you want?" she asked. "When did you know?'

"Know what? That you weren't Astoria?" He let her go, taking a gulp of wine. "You were the only person that stood out to me. I honestly thought you were her until you starting downing so many shots of whisky. Astoria hates hard liquor. But it was when you kissed me that I knew it was you. Only you look at me like that."

"Me kiss you?" she said flabbergasted. "You kissed me!"

"It doesn't matter," Draco said with a grin. "You can't deny that you enjoyed it."

Rosalind glared at him. "That's besides the point," she said flabbergasted.

Draco grinned, taking a step closer to her. "You knew something was different," he said, pulling her closer. "I know you felt that too." He kissed the side of her face, her jawline, pulling her hips before his.

"Draco I can't-" she breathed, pulses of electricity shooting through her body with every kiss.

"Just let me Rose," he whispered, mouth inches from hers. "Let me taste you just once." Their mouths met again, bodies synched. Draco lifted her up as she wrapped her legs around his torso.

"Draco," she moaned as he pressed her against the wall. "How did this happen?" she asked, caressing his face. "You're drunk, you're probably not even going to remember this in the morning-"

"Shh," he placed a finger over her lips. "I won't forget anything because I've been wanting to do this for a long time." His pale grey eyes met hers, staring intently for a long moment. "You understand me."

"So do you," she breathed, heart thudding against their chests.

He smirked, both breathing heavy. He began to kiss her neck, gripping her hips at the same time. "Let me have you," he whispered, trailing kisses to her collarbone. He picked her up again, moving them to the bed, setting her down gently. "Just tell me to stop..." He kissed his way down her body, not breaking their eye contact. "Tell me to stop and I will..."

He gripped her thigh, slowly moving up her leg. Her body shivered-a fire inside of her was burning like wildfire and she couldn't control it. He was looking at her so tenderly and full of emotion she had no words. He started kissing her neck gently, slowly making his way again down her body. Her heart pulsed, throbbing against his chest; she ran her fingers through his hair, letting him explore her. He straddled her, squeezing her pelvis with his legs, his free hand tousling her hair.

Rosalind gripped the sheets, arching her back and sucking in her breath, moaning, pulling him closer. She felt uncontrollable, she wanted to push him against the wall, throw herself at him, let him take over their bodies. He was much more sensual than she imagined him to be-he kissed the crevices of her body softly, as if he was taking care of her, then sped up, becoming more aggressive.

Rosalind groaned-Draco's left hand was by her upper thigh, his right holding the back of her head. She opened her eyes, feeling as if his stormy orbs were piercing her own. The moment passing between them felt much longer than a second; their breath was ragged, heavy and slow, their lips barely apart.

"Don't stop," she whispered, still staring into his eyes. "Don't stop."

He smirked, leaning in and biting her bottom lip gently. "Let me know when it becomes too much for you." He winked, making his way down south.

She inhaled quickly-her body was throbbing in the best way possible. She held onto whatever she could get her hands on-the pillows, the sheets, Draco's body. She moaned again, pulling him closer to her chest, her back arching in climax.

"Draco..." She was trying to stay quiet, as if others would be able to hear them. "Draco..." He was kissing the top of her hipbones, caressing her sides hungrily. He moved his hand down, in an attempt to remove all of her clothes.

Rosalind swung her leg over him, forcing him to a stop. "I can't do that," she said firmly, still out of breath. "I can't do that with you."

Draco cocked his eyebrow, grinning. "Too much for you already?" He maneuvered his body next to hers, sitting at the head of the bed. "I thought you'd be able to handle more than that."

She glared at him, shoving his shoulder. "It's not that I can't handle it," she said as he laughed. "I'm just not ready for that."

Draco eyed her, platinum locks drooping over his eyebrows. "That's fine. We don't have to do anything you don't want to." His voice was slightly crestfallen but sincere.

"That was easy," Rosalind replied as he made his way next to her on the bed. "I thought you'd fight a lot harder for that."

"I'm not an animal," Draco says through an eye roll, pulling her onto his chest. "Besides. It'll feel a lot better when it actually happens."

"You sound awfully confident," she observed.

"I saw the way you looked at me before I passed out in my room," he said with a grin. "I know you find me attractive too."

Rosalind scoffed out a laugh. "Don't act like you don't know you're quite the looker."

"Oh, I already know," he continues. "It took you long enough to come around and admit it."

"It took you a long time too," she retorted. "I thought I wasn't your type."

"I don't have a type. I care about the connection," he rolls his eyes again. "And you," he shifts his body to look into her eyes. "You feel different." His fingers trace the edge of her face, causing her stomach to lurch. "I know you feel this too."

Rosalind stared at him, her heart beating so hard she was sure he could hear it as well. "I've felt it since the first time you touched me." She closed her eyes, their lips meeting again for a deep, passionate kiss, once again igniting her insides. Draco sighed, kissing her forehead, before they drifted off into sleep.

The slow ticking of the clock and the warmth of the sun's rays woke a groggy Rosalind. She shielded her eyes, head pounding against her temple. Draco's body was still holding hers, a wave of guilt flooding her gut. On the floor was an empty wine bottle, Draco's shirt, and part of the saloon girl costume. How did this happen? She mentally face palmed herself. The growling in her stomach forced her up, sliding out under the covers into the kitchen. Her mouth watered upon seeing the rows of fresh fruit, vegetables, and desserts. With a whisk of her wand, eggs began to beat themselves as she sliced tomatoes, onions, mushrooms, and peppers, placing slices of toast in the toaster.

Hot breath warmed the back of her neck. Draco kissed her, interlacing his fingers with hers. "The view from back here is pretty nice," he whispered in her ear. "Almost makes me want to have that for breakfast instead." He moved his hands to her backside, grabbing her bum.

Rosalind elbowed him. "You already had that."

"I can't come back for more?" He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "Don't act like you can resist me," he said in a low voice.

"That's not the way you should treat the birthday girl," she rolled her eyes.

"I can treat you however the fuck I want," he growled, pushing her pelvis into his. He pressed his lips onto hers, causing her to drop the spatula, kissing him hard, opening her mouth slightly to deepen the kiss. Draco shoved the vases and plates onto the floor, dropping them with a loud crash. He thrust Rosalind onto the counter, gripping her body tightly.

"Draco..." she moaned, wrapping her legs around him. "Draco I can't..."

"Yes you can," he grunted. "Just let me once-"

A smoky smell entered Rosalind's nose and she threw Draco off of her. "The food! That's why I can't!" She ran to the other side of the kitchen, levitating the food onto two plates. She glared at him, trying not to smile. "See what you do? I can't take you anywhere."

He smirked, grabbing a fork. "It's not my fault you lost track of time." He took a bite, making a satisfied face. "Not bad." He grabbed her plate upon finishing and set them in the sink, giving her a curious look.

Rosalind sighed, walking over to the bed to put her shoes on. Draco leaned against the banister, crossing his arms.

"Where are you going?" He demanded.

"Home. I have plans," she replied as she put her corset back on.

He raised his brow, looking slightly annoyed. "Birthday plans? Alright."

"Alright what?"

"Nothing. Just alright." His expression didn't change and he didn't move his arms.

"Alright well...bye I guess," she said awkwardly, grabbing her belongings. "I'll see you at work."

"See you Morana," was all he said. They stared at each other for a long moment, daring the other to speak. She gave him one last look and opened the door, which shut louder than she expected. She held her breath and Apparated back to her apartment, feeling like she left her dignity behind.

Everything looked exactly how she left it, down to the mug of tea by the window. A note in thin, handsome writing was waiting for her by the door:

Rosie,

I apologize I wasn't able to make it tonight, there was an accident involving a customer at the shop. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise. I'll be there to pick you up at noon.

Regards,

George

Her hands began to shake as her breakfast lunged up her throat. How could she be so stupid? She had drunkenly and stupidly made out with someone else, with her coworker of all people, not realizing until it was too late that it wasn't George. Well kind of-something did feel different but she thought it was the atmosphere and not the fact it was Draco the whole time. She banged her head against the wall, a lump forming instantaneously on her forehead.

"Stupid," she kept repeating to herself. "You're so stupid Rosalind, why would you give in like that?" Because of the way I feel when he touches me, she couldn't help think. She slammed her fist on the wall, looking over at the clock. She had less than two hours to tidy herself up and pretend nothing happened. It'll be like old times, she muttered to herself.

A rapping came from her front door precisely at noon. Rosalind put on her best fake smile and opened it too see her favorite redhead, holding a bouquet of roses.

"Happy birthday love," he smiled.

"Oh George," she said unable to hide her surprise. "You shouldn't have."

His smile broadened. "But I wanted to." He planted a sweet kiss on her forehead. "Just wait until you see what else is in store for today."

She took the flowers and quickly set them in a vase so she wouldn't have to look at him. Keep it together, she thought. It's not like it'll happen again.

She faced George and gave him a hug. "What are we going to do?"

"Hold on to me and you'll see," he winked. Rosalind clutched his arm and held her breath, bracing herself for the ride. She felt like she had been knocked in the back, the ride was excruciatingly long and painful; she had the sensation they were traveling hundreds if not thousands of miles. She barely had an air left in her lungs; they were burning for oxygen. Finally after almost a full minute they landed with a thud on dry land.

"Open your eyes."

She could hear loud chatters from several conversations, along with cheering and laughing; the scent of kettle corn, overly fried food and pretzels filled her nostrils, bringing back childhood memories.

She opened her eyes. "We're at the fair?"

George nodded. "We're on Coney Island."

"You brought me home to the States?" She asked horrified. "How?"

"I wanted to take you somewhere you've never been before. I would've taken you further but I've never Apparated that far." He gave her a concerned look. "Is that alright?"

"Yeah-yeah it's fine," she lied. "As long as we don't go anywhere I don't want to get too homesick, " she smiled stiffly.

He put his arm around her leading her to a nearby booth. "You worried me for a second. Almost thought you weren't allowed back here."

Rosalind laughed awkwardly. "As long as we don't get caught," she joked.

"Of course we won't," George assured her. "I won't let anything happen to you."

She gripped his hand tighter. "If you say so." She leaned her head on his arm, letting him lead the way.

Coney Island was enormous: there were people everywhere, wearing various odd colored outfits, rollerblading on the boardwalk or munching on snacks. They started at the thrill rides of Luna Park, with the Thunderbolt, Electro Spin and the Tickler, then ventured their way to Astroland riding the Tilt-a-Whirl, the Astro Tower, the pirate ship, the Cyclone and Power Surge before deciding they might throw up. Rosalind screamed her head off on the roller coasters, almost ripping George's arm in half.

"Oh my goodness!" she laughed as they got off another roller coaster. "I can't breathe!" She clutched her chest, leaning over the railing to catch herself.

"I do have that affect on people," George said trying to stand straight. His hair was a mess and his face slightly green. "I'm not too fond of Muggle contraptions though, they don't feel reliable."

"Oh c'mon you know you had fun," she said fixing his hair.

He smiled. "Of course I am, I am with the most beautiful girl around, aren't I?"

Rosalind's face flushed, her stomach fluttering. "You're not so bad yourself."

He kissed her on the forehead, taking notice of the booth in front of them. "What would you like me to win for you? An elephant a bear or a penguin?"

"Hmm." She took a look at the western themed game with three rows of plates moving side to side, and a plastic gun to shoot them down. "A penguin."

"Consider it done." He walked up to the pimply teenage boy working the stand and handed him what looked to be too much change. George muttered something about American Muggle currency being stranger than Britain's. The boy handed him the gun and George began to shoot. He missed the first few but made the next shots perfectly, curving at an odd angle like they had help. In the end he knocked all but one plate down, winning the largest stuffed penguin in existence.

"For you madam," he said as he gave her the giant penguin. "Happy birthday."

Rosalind smiled, trying to hold onto the massive toy. It was so big she couldn't wrap her arms around it, let alone see where she was going. "Thank you but now I can't see," she laughed in a muffled voice.

George took it out of her hands. "Maybe I should've won you something more fun sized."

"I am not fun sized!" She elbowed him. "I wanted the penguin for a reason."

"And what is that?"

"They're cute. They also mate for life unlike most animals which I think is pretty cool," she admitted.

He wrapped his arm around her. "Wizards mate for life too you know." He walked them over to a more abandoned area where no one could see them. "Some find their mates faster than others." He observed her for a moment, waiting for her to say something but she didn't. "Are you ready for our next stop? I hope you're hungry."

Rosalind nodded. "I'm starving."

"Well hold on tight, it's going to be a long ride."

She snapped her eyes shut barely having time to hold her breath; it felt worse than first time, more excruciating and far away. A full minute later they stopped on uneven ground. She almost fell, completely surprised by the change of scenery. Cool, sea air filled her nostrils, and the peaceful crash of waves were nearby. Seagulls screeched, flying over their heads in search of food. She opened her eyes to witness the most glorious sunset she had ever seen: the sky was painted in pinks, oranges and every shade of crimson with strokes of blue and grey touching the edges, setting over the horizon.

"Wow," she breathed. "You never fail to amaze me."

George smiled, holding her tightly. "I told you I wanted to make today special." She looked up into his handsome face, kissing him lightly, heart panged in guilt.

He let go and started muttering incantations and a fire appeared before them along with a small grill. He threw a backpack to the side and a small tent grew out of it, complete with a chimney. George took a seat in the sand, grabbing a stick and setting a marshmallow on top if it, letting the fire roast it into mush.

"So I read about these American confections the other day called s'mores," he said as Rosalind sat next to him. "I believe they consist of marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate is that correct?"

"Yes," she laughed. "You've really never had a s'more before?"

"Never ever."

"Let me show you how it's done then." She grabbed a slab of chocolate letting it melt slowly on top of a square of graham cracker. "You let the marshmallow get toasty on the outside and then you move it like this," she slid his marshmallow onto the chocolate and cracker, adding more on top. "And then you eat it. See?"

George looked at it curiously then took a bite. "Blimey, it's better than I thought it would be." He offered her a bite and smeared a piece of chocolate on her nose. "You got a little something there, sweetheart."

"I can't see it, can you get it off for me?" She asked in an innocent voice.

"Why yes I can, if you promise to give me a kiss after."

"I don't know, I might get a little carried away and give you more than that," she teased.

George grinned, kissing her nose and then her lips. He tasted sweet, just like his personality. He moved his body on top of hers, her back grazing the sand.

"Oh I think you might have some there too..." He kissed her neck. "And there." He kissed her collarbone. "And some right there." He moved his way down to her chest.

Rosalind giggled, looking into his gentle face. "You're so adorable."

"And you're so beautiful," he whispered. He cupped her face, looking into her eyes adoringly. A moment passed between them, a tender moment where no words needed to be said. He sat up holding her in his arms. "We'll start dinner once the sun goes down," he said.

"Oh yeah? What's on the menu besides you?"

He shrugged. "Can't tell you."

Rosalind frowned before laying in his arms. Laying with George made the world seem so at peace. The sun set down slowly, radiating from their happiness. She sighed. The view was beautiful, the day was beautiful. And she didn't deserve it.

George kissed the side of her and stood up to conjure more food: roasted ham, potatoes, green beans, pie and champagne. He popped the cork and handed her a glass.

"This is quite the dinner," she said in awe. "You really don't have to do all this just for me."

It was his turn to frown at her. "How many times do I have to tell you that I want to? What do I have to do to show you that I love spending time with you and making you happy?"

She shrugged, looking down at the sand. "At least one more time."

George gazed down at her, watching her take small bites of her food. He took her hand squeezing it gently. "You'll know soon enough that not everyone is going to hurt you. I lo-I really do love spending time with you."

She smiled timidly, that schoolgirl smile that only he could make her do. "I love spending time with you too."

He smiled at her reassuringly. "Stop being so hesitant. Just let everything happen naturally."

"Alright," she decided. "I will." She finished her plate moving on to the apple pie.

"You should look up to the east in about five seconds," he said casually between bites. "There might be something you won't want to miss."

Rosalind dropped her fork, taking a look at the lighthouse on the eastern side. A thin figure was making its way across the sky, slithering its way through the stars. It had various shades of green, blue, yellow, purple, fading into every color of the rainbow. As it approached them it looked to be the head of a dragon; it opened its mouth at the sight of them, spurting faux flames into their midst, raining drops of fire.

"Fireworks?" she cried astonished. "Are these from your joke shop?"

George nodded. "Indeed they are."

She stood up to enjoy the light show: several more animals danced their way in from bears, wolves, lions, tigers, unicorns, along with smaller animals like rabbits and monkeys. They ran across the sand, shooting it into different directions before disappearing into thin air; once they were gone a display of blossoming flowers lit the sky, fire sprinkling into the ocean.

Rosalind laughed, dancing in the firelight. What looked like lightning bugs swirled around them, but were actually smaller fireworks.

"Did you do all of this?" she asked as she grabbed his arms, pulling him into a dance. "Is this all from your shop?"

"Most of it is, a lot of it is also new product. I needed to test it out and figured this would be the perfect occasion." He spun her out, twirling her back into his arms. "It's not bad so far."

"Not bad? It's brilliant!" she laughed again at the booming in the background. "I can't believe you do this all by yourself, this is so impressive."

George smiled, leading her into a slow dance as the lighting bug fireworks hovered by their heads, giving a romantic glow. "I'm not bad at magic when I try," he said pulling her closer.

"Are you kidding? You're great at it. This is-this is the most fun I've had probably since I've moved here." She moved a ginger strand from his face. "Thank you so much. I really don't deserve you."

George rocked them back and forth, the fireworks beginning to fade. "Of course you are my love, you're worth every second." He leaned down, making Rosalind inch up on her tip toes, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. He gazed down at her, taking a breath. "Would it be too forward to ask you if you'd like to stay the night here in the tent under the stars?"

Rosalind's heart fluttered. "I would love that."

George grinned, throwing her over his shoulders. "In that case let's get started." She kicked her legs, playfully hitting his back as he took them inside the tent.

What appeared to be a meager tent on the outside was actually a quaint cottage built for two. A fireplace crackled in the corner and a modest queen sized bed waited for them with an extra set of clothes.

"Are these yours?" she asked picking up the maroon sweater and periwinkle blue button down. "They're way too big to be for me."

George's ear reddened slightly. "Well I was hoping I could find something your size but even Ginny is much bigger than you are."

Rosalind kissed him on the cheek. "I like this one." She tossed him the sweater and stepped over to the other side of the tent where she was somewhat hidden by a table to change. She glanced over at George who was already in sweats, just pulling over a sweatshirt. She took off her boots and undergarments, carefully sliding into his shirt. Cinnamon and sugar-it smelled just like him. She made her way back over to him as she finished buttoning the shirt, his eyes widening. She jumped on the bed on top of him, smothering him in a big hug.

"You look damn good in my shirt," he observed as she started to kiss him. "You should wear that and nothing else more often."

"If we get to spend nights like these together I might," she teased, rolling by his side.

He grinned, crushing her in a hug. "There's not a moment when you don't look absolutely gorgeous."

She blushed. "I don't think I've ever blushed so much around someone before."

"I love it so keep it coming," he winked, causing her stomach to pulse.

Rosalind laughed, nudging her head in the crevice of his arm. Above their heads was a skylight, where they looked ahead at the clear midnight blue ocean.

After several moments he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about not being able to make it last night. I was on my way when a toddler knocked over some sets of fireworks and they went off causing a ruckus and injuring another customer. I was going to send you a Patronous but ended up leaving you a note instead." His voice fell flat and somber.

"Why didn't you?" she asked hesitantly.

George's face stiffened. "Patronouses can be used to send messages and I haven't attempted one since the Battle of Hogwarts, the night that Fred died. But I couldn't do it...I couldn't think of a happy memory. I couldn't even form a noncorporal Patronous. I-I didn't think that would happen."

Rosalind looked up at his eyes. For once they weren't happy, they were full of sorrow. She reached out her hand to try to comfort him. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "No. There's nothing to talk about."

"But it's healthy to let out those emotions-"

"I said no alright?" he yelled, sitting up. "It's in the past. I can't do anything to change it." He looked angry that she even suggested the idea.

"Okay sorry for asking," she said in a small voice turning her back to him. "I won't ask again."

They were quiet for several moments. She could hear George muttering to himself before finally leaning his body over hers. "I'm sorry Rosie, that's such a touchy subject for me." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Can you forgive me?"

She looked back at him, seeing how regretful and uncomfortable he looked. "I guess I can forgive you this time," she said half-jokingly. "But I would appreciate it if you could open up to me sometime."

"I'm working on it," he said exasperated. "It's just-I've never opened up to anyone before. I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Of emotion," he said seriously. "Of opening old wounds." He ran his fingers through his hair, mind racing. "But I'll try my best." He gave her a small smile and wrapped her in a hug. "You make it easier. You're worth it."

Rosalind smiled back at him sheepishly, unable to meet his gaze. "George I-"

"Yes?" he looked at her excitedly.

She paused, heart pounding. She should tell him, but this wasn't the right moment. "I really appreciate everything you've done tonight, everything that you do for me. I don't know how to thank you."

He grinned. "By spending time with me and telling me how undeniably handsome you think I am."

She laughed. "Easy." He leaned down to give her a gentle kiss, followed by faster, more intense kisses. She held onto his torso, wrapping her legs around him and kissing his neck as he did the same to her. She groaned as the kisses deepened, becoming more passionate. In the back of her mind a tiny thought was nudging her, telling her she should stop because she was being unfair to him. But she didn't-she couldn't-she was enjoying it too much. Enjoying him, his personality, his scent, his body and soul. She couldn't deny her feelings for him.

George steamrolled her, tickling her and landing on top of her again, gazing into her eyes. "You are quite the sight when you're in my bed," he grinned in that attractive, droning voice of his.

"I'll make sure not to leave then," she breathed. He kissed her once more, wrapping her in his arms as they fell asleep. She grabbed his hands and kissed them gently.

Rosalind could feel his broad smile even with her eyes closed. "Goodnight love." He kissed the back of her head and they dozed off, the stars twinkling above them, watching them through the night.

Waves crashed gently onto the sea-worn rocks as the sun gazed over the bodies in the tent, casting warm rays to awaken them. Rosalind stretched her limbs, groaning about how bright it was. A groggy George had tea and biscuits ready on the counter, bringing a steaming cup to Rosalind as she sat up in the bed.

"Good morning gorgeous," he grinned as he handed her the tea tray. "Sleep well I hope?"

Rosalind smiled, tucking a frizzy curl behind her ear. "I did thank you, how about yourself?"

"Just peachy," he winked as he took a sip. He waved his wand as the mouth of the tent opened, the whispers of the ocean bursting into the room, breathing in cool air.

"What are your plans for today, love?"

She shrugged. "I think I'm going to make a stop by Hogwarts and surprise my sister. I haven't seen her in a while." She looked down at her watch. It was almost lunch time. "I should probably head over there soon, I want to catch her on a good time."

George smiled kindly, gazing into her auburn eyes. "I won't be offended if you leave. I know you miss her."

Rosalind's stomach fluttered as she let out a beaming smile. "Thank you George, really. For everything. You are way too nice to me." He embraced her into a tight hug, planting a loving kiss onto the top of her head.

"I care about you that's why." A glimmer of affection flickered over his eyes. "Don't have too much fun, love."

"I'll try not to," she laughed. She sucked her breath and closed her eyes, leaving with a faint popping sound, bringing the sinking feeling of dread with her.

Hogsmeade village was already beginning to twinkle with holiday spirit: copper colored leaves crunched at the bottom of Rosalind's feet and several pumpkins and wreaths decorated the tiny shops. She greeted the old wizard by the train station before making the trek up to Hogwarts Castle. She inhaled the crisp air, sighing once she reached the tall oak doors. After a brief conversation with Argus Filch she made her way through the foreign building, navigating the ancient corridors. Students were spilling out of the Great Hall, indicating the end of lunch. Rosalind leaned her back against the wall towards the east side of the door hoping to catch Emma.

A flood of tiny first and second years were at the head of the pack, splitting into four groups into their respective houses. Mutterings grew louder as some students shoved around some of the smaller bodies, chanting a phrase Rosalind had never heard before. A circle gathered around two young girls, the dog-faced one shot a yellow spell at the other, causing her bag to rip and break the contents on the floor. She chuckled to herself, thinking that that would have been something she would have done back in her day to someone who had annoyed her. The group laughed, pointing at the girl on her knees struggling to pick up her belongings, not fighting back.

"Hey! That wasn't very nice!" the second girl sputtered.

"Fight back!" the bigger girl sneered. "Or are you too scared?" she waved her wand with a cackle, causing the other girl's glasses to come off her face.

"I can't see without those!" the second girl whimpered as she jumped up and down as her glasses hung higher above her head. "I need them!" Her books split open on the floor causing the group to laugh harder. "Please!"

Rosalind's heart dropped when she saw the familiar face: Emma's lips were quivering as she tried hard not to cry as her fellow classmates mocked her. A fit of rage bubbled through her as she waved her hand, causing the young girl's wand to fly across the end of the hall.

"What do you think you're doing?" she growled louder than she anticipated, using every ounce of strength she had not to grip the girl's throat. "You want to duel someone, huh? Why won't you fight fair?" She stood at her full height in front of the girl who was only two inches shorter than her.

The young girl's eyes widened as soon as she realized she was wandless. "What's it to you?" she asked with false confidence. "You can't do anything to me I'm a kid."

"You think that's going to-"

"Ms. Morana, I suggest you step away from Miss Parkinson before another word is said," a stern, authoritative voice commanded. Rosalind's breathing tensed but she dropped her shoulders to face Professor McGonagall.

"I apologize Professor." She grit her teeth into a false smile as the headmistress cocked her eyebrow.

"I expect to see the three of you in my office immediately." She stared straight at Rosalind as young Parkinson grinned, trotting after the professor.

"The three of—?"

Rosalind glanced over at Emma who was on the cold stone floor picking up her belongings. Her glasses were cracked in the corner creating a spiderweb effect, illuminating her embarrassment as she averted her sister's eyes. Deciding to deal with her later, she shifted her attention to the girl besides them.

"You're Pansy Parkinson's sister?" she questioned the dog-faced girl.

She squinted her pug nose in the air, twiddling her wand. "That I am. How are you two acquainted?"

"We happen to be friends, actually, believe it or not. She's never mentioned you."

Parkinson's arrogance faded. "She doesn't talk about me much."

"Was she a bully too or did you learn that on your own?"

The girl's face twinged but she held her composure as she climbed the spiral staircase into the headmistress' office, ignoring Rosalind. She let the girls talk to McGonagall first before she spoke to her and Emma by herself. As she waited in a separate area of the office, she glanced around the oval area. Several ancient artifacts sat undisturbed in glass cases as others whirled around the room. Rosalind heard a shuffling and a cough that caught her off guard-she was the only body in the room. Specks of dust fell on her nose and she glanced up to see an ancient hat shaking what would be its head, opening a beady pair of eyes.

"You're Morana's sister aren't you?" the hat asked inquiringly.

Rosalind stared at the hat in disbelief. "How'd you know that?"

The hat chuckled. "I am the Sorting Hat dearie, I hear everything."

Rosalind eyed the hat curiously. She had heard of it but had no idea where it was kept. "How is she doing?" she finally asked.

The brim of the hat curled in the edges, as if shrugging. "She is adjusting as best she can. It is hard to adjust when one cannot remember segments of their lives."

Her stomach dropped. "What do you mean not remember certain things?"

The hat grinned. "I remember the memories and thoughts of every student that has stepped through this castle, even what they believe is not real. You did quite the number on her."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said flatly.

"No?" the hat chuckled again. "Why don't you go ahead and give me a go? I could give you insight as to what House you would have been Sorted into."

"Why should I trust you?"

"You've never been curious?" The hat stared at her blankly, almost grinning. She grabbed it and placed it on her head quickly, suddenly filled with an odd sensation: she could tell that the hat could sense all of her emotions and memories. It felt dirty, like a loss of control.

"Aaahhh, interesting," the hat whispered. "Many traits that I sensed earlier...very ambitious, there's no doubt about that but very clever as well." He inhaled, as if breathing in her essence. "Slytherin would be an easy choice for you."

I'm not a Dark Wizard, she thought. That's not where I belong.

The hat laughed once more. "Not all Slytherins are Dark Wizards. Not that you have a clean past any how. What will little Emma do when she finds out what you did to her?"

Rosalind threw the hat back onto its shelf in anger. "She won't find out anything."

The hat smiled. "The guilt is killing you."

Pansy's younger sister emerged from the other end of the room with her chin on her chest. She took a small glance at Rosalind before departing for the spiral staircase. McGonnagall's pursed lips pointed in her direction and she sat down in the chair next to Emma.

"While I encourage family bonds I do not encourage bullying and rough housing," she began with a raised brow. "I understand the compassion you have for your sister Miss Rosalind but I cannot have you visiting Hogwarts if you will be harassing my students."

"But Professor I couldn't let someone talk to her like that-"

"These are my students, Rosalind, not yours." The Headmistress's face was stern, her eyes hawk-like on the older sister.

Rosalind clenched her fist, then sulked into the chair. "Understood, Professor. I apologize."

"Hmph," McGonnagall continued. "Now, I cannot punish you but I can ask you to leave. I'll leave you two alone for a moment." The Headmistress motioned for the door and both Rosalind and Emma walked out.

Emma pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, books in hand. She averted her eyes from her older sister, hoping she wouldn't say anything.

"How long has this been happening?" Rosalind demanded.

"Not too long," Emma said sheepishly, still avoiding her gaze.

"How long Emma?"

She shuffled her feet. "I don't know. Not too much later than after we got here."

"Why didn't you tell me anything?" she asked, afraid of her answer.

"Because..." she clutched her books closer to her chest. "You can't do anything about it. I didn't think you'd care."

"What do you mean-?" Rosalind exclaimed, pained. "Of course I care Emma, you're my sister!"

Emma wiped away a faint stream of tears from her face, taking a seat on a stone bench. "Nothing." She hiccuped, taking her glasses off to wipe away her tears. "Th-they make fun of me a lot. They don't get it."

Rosalind sat down next to her sister slowly. "Get what?"

"How-how they died..." she sniffled. "How did they die in a house fire if there were wizards? It doesn't make sense."

Rosalind's stomach dropped. "How doesn't that make sense? Wizards have died that way, especially if Fiendfyre is involved-"

"But was there? We don't know anything we just left!" Emma slammed her fists on the concrete. "We didn't have a funeral for them, we didn't say goodbye we didn't do anything! We just left!" Her small chest heaved quiet sobs. "Why, sissy?"

The elder sister clenched her jaw, gripping her fingers against her robes. "Because," she said carefully. "There was nothing there for us. We couldn't have done anything...we had no home. It wasn't safe there anymore."

"So why did we move here?" Emma cried, eyes reddening. "Of all places why London, because you always wanted to go to Hogwarts?"

"It wasn't safe for us to be there anymore sissy, and I wanted to move someplace that would be good for you," Rosalind answered softly.

Emma looked up at her older sister's eyes. "I feel like you're not telling me something."

Rosalind's heart thumped. "Why do you think that? Where did this come from?"

"I'm tired of being sad all the time," she said in a small voice. "I thought...I thought it would be easier by now."

"Oh Emma," Rosalind sighed, pulling her into a hug. "It will get easier, I promise. Eventually it'll just be a distant memory." She gave her a tight squeeze as Emma sobbed into her shoulder.

"I just w-wish it would end." Her voice was faint, eyes bloodshot.

"It will, don't worry." Rosalind felt around for her wand in her robe, slipping it out quickly. Emma shifted her body away, adjusting her glasses again. Rosalind raised her wand hesitantly next to her sister's temple.

Emma stopped in her tracks in disbelief. "No sissy stop," she pleaded. "Don't-please don't do this-don't h-hurt me!" Her tiny body quivered. "Please don't do this!"

"I'm not going to hurt you!" Rosalind cried choking back tears. "I would never hurt you!"

Emma pressed her hands against her ears, gripping her eyes shut. "LIAR!"

Rosalind pressed her wand against little Emma's face, hands shaking, the voice of the Sorting Hat ringing loudly in her ears: What will little Emma do when she finds out what you did to her?

So you have now officially met Emma! What did you think of her? Should she be feeling as guilty as she does even though her and George aren't really in a relationship? Thank you so much for reading!

Next chapter: Runaway.