"Right, Harry, Rose, have you been practicing your French? German?"

"Sirius, there's no need – "

"Both of them almost died this year, Remus. Both. At eleven. Dumbledore's clearly incapable – "

"Harry was an accident and Rose sought that out – "

"Actually, Harry was nearly murdered by Voldemort," Rose muttered under her breath. Harry elbowed her but he needn't have bothered. The moment they'd flooed home, the argument had begun, and the two men were far too engrossed in each other to pay attention to anything else. Rose saw Penny nervously wringing her hands in the corner, eyeing their trunks, and gave her a smile and nodded. The house elf perked up, snapped her fingers, and apparated away, presumably to unpack her and Harry's things.

They stood there for another thirty seconds before it was clear that Remus and Sirius were either going to yell themselves hoarse or make out. Harry and Rose exchanged a look and scurried away before their guardians could notice.

Potter Manor was just as beautiful as she remembered – all marble floors and gold-filigreed banisters, it became less gaudy the further you went. They ran to Rose's room, marble giving way to oak, Macha flying ahead hissing $Freedom!$

They collapsed on the pastel blue carpet side by side, staring at the star-littered ceiling.

"They're not really going to transfer us to Beauxbatons, are they?"

"I hope not," Rose sighed. "I've done far too much networking to let it go to waste like that."

Harry snickered. "Slytherin," he teased.

"And proud," Rose agreed.

"I wish everyone else felt the same," Harry sighed. "I nearly hexed Cormac bloody McLaggen for picking on Lily Moon."

"Ernie watches Slytherins like they're going to kill him when his back's turned," Rose said. "I'm working on it, though."

"We're working on it," Harry said firmly. "Don't think I haven't noticed the way some people look at Theodore."

Rose found Harry's hand and squeezed. He squeezed back and they lay there for a while, gazing at the stars, listening to the low, contented hiss Macha made as she stretched out in the sunlight.

That night, as Rose relaxed into the familiarity of her bed, she heard a knock on the door. It was a very distinct series of knocks, which meant –

"Harry?" She murmured.

The door creaked a little as Harry came in, closing it gently behind him.

"Couldn't sleep," he said quietly. "Can I…?"

"Get in, idiot," Rose huffed fondly, shifting over. Harry threw himself onto the bed with a thump, letting out a muffled "oof".

"'fanks," he mumbled.

"Mm," Rose hummed, rolling over and curling up on her side. She heard the rustling of cloth as Harry wriggled under the blankets.

…

"Rose?" Harry whispered. "Are you still awake?"

An exasperated sigh. "Well, I am now."

"… Can we talk?"

Rose gave an incoherent mumble. "Yeah, alrigh', give me a mo'." She rolled onto her stomach with difficulty, groping blindly for the headboard. Her fingers felt the familiar sun carved into the wood and she pressed it, whispering "Fairy lights, yellow, soft." There was a quiet hum of magic as the sun glowed beneath her fingers, the tips of its rays emitting dim motes of light. They streamed into the air above the bed, moving gently as though stirred by an invisible breeze. She heard Harry give a contented sigh next to her. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the fairy lights, drifting between them and the star-scattered ceiling.

"I missed this," he admitted quietly. "The beds in Gryffindor have only got the witchlight feature."

"Same in Hufflepuff," Rose replied.

They lay on their backs for a while, watching the spots drift above them. They reminded her of fireflies, the ones shown in the muggle movies Dudley used to watch on the telly.

"… Why did you go after Quirrell?"

Rose swallowed. She'd known this question was coming, but she'd hoped… Well. Harry had never been one to let things go.

"Please," he whispered. His hand sought hers and he clutched it tightly.

"I wanted to ask him if he would spare you," Rose whispered. She heard Harry choke on his breath.

"What? Why - "

"I remember that night," she said. Harry fell silent. "I remember… after he killed mum, he looked at us. He looked back and forth, like he was deciding something, like he was choosing, and then he settled on you. He tried to kill you, not me. I was just… there.

"In Grimmauld, I found some of his old propaganda. He tried to pass laws through the Wizengamot first, and… there were some laws I agreed with." She'd never, ever, told anyone this before. She took a breath.

"He was pushing for national holidays on dates like Samhain and Yule. For a redefining of Dark magic, legalization of blood magic. For mandatory wizarding traditions classes.

"None of it passed, of course, and then he started becoming more extreme and spouting pureblood supremacy and turned to killing, but the beginning… I asked him if he really believed in it. If he didn't – he knew we followed the Old Ways – he saw us perform the ritual on Samhain. I wanted to ask him if he'd spare you because if he did, we could… we could help him try again. In the Wizengamot. And then no one else would have to die.

"But he said you were a threat. He said you had to die. So I couldn't – I had to – " Rose rolled over and hugged Harry tightly. He was stiff and unmoving in her arms, and she began to cry.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "He killed our parents and I – "

"You turned him down for me," Harry said quietly. "I don't… Thank you." He sounded bewildered. She ached.

"Harry, you're my brother," she emphasized. "I would never, ever, ever even consider helping someone who wanted you dead – you're more important than anything – he said he had to kill you and I didn't even think, I just – Harry, I shoved my fingers in his eyes," she said, giving a shaky laugh. "I'd never give you up like that, Harry."

Slowly, carefully, he hugged her back.

"Thanks," he said again, but his voice was soft and heavy with meaning.

"No one's allowed to hurt you," she said fiercely. "No one. I'll kill anyone who tries."

Harry huffed a laugh, a little choked with tears. "Ditto, Rosie."

"Besides," Rose whispered after a while. "I'd never would've been able to work with him anyways. I thought I could, but… he still killed our parents. I would be willing to work with him if he swore to spare you, but otherwise…"

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. "I… I think I understand. Thanks for telling me, Rosie."

In response, she hugged him harder.

(telling Harry had been… incredible)

(she felt so much lighter the morning after, like she was walking on air)

(maybe… maybe she could loosen her grip on her secrets)

(maybe she could take a risk)

(maybe she could embrace her Gryffindor side, just once more)

Now that she thought about it, Rose wasn't entirely sure why she'd kept her reincarnation a secret. Hadn't Sirius and Remus made their love for her clear? They hadn't pressed her on her 'Seer' abilities, hadn't questioned the appearance of Macha, hadn't shown even a hint of prejudice when she and Harry were revealed as Parselmouths.

Objectively, Rose knew it was a good idea. Even in the nigh-impossible event that they reacted badly, she knew that they'd die before throwing her out or cutting her off from her vaults, so her physical safety and livelihood was ensured.

She didn't know why -

No. She was lying to herself; she did know why. It was because, for all that they'd raised her, she'd spent her formative years first at the Dursleys, then at Hogwarts. For all that the distinction between her two lives was beginning to grow, for all that Rose was starting to settle into her body and feel her physical age, she still remembered her old life. There, information had been a commodity, secrets even more so. Keeping secrets, trusting only herself, Ron, and Hermione, seeing adults as barriers instead of potential sources of help – those lessons had been learned and reinforced countless times in her first life. The mere thought of giving them up voluntarily, of her own accord, sent her into a cold sweat.

But just because she didn't want to didn't mean she shouldn't, did it? It was a weakness now – she had no way of accessing the other horcruxes, save the diadem, without the presence of an adult wixen. The Trace would pick her up if she tried to break into Gringotts or the Gaunt shack, since house elves didn't register as adult wixen. Even Gringotts – Bellatrix Lestrange had been Bellatrix Black, hadn't she? Could Sirius find some way to reclaim her vault? Could one of them learn to cast Fiendfyre, so they wouldn't need basilisk venom? Couldn't they act as contingencies, in case she died?

(because she'd nearly died this year, hadn't she? Burning Quirrellmort alive – it had nearly killed her, and what would've happened then?)

(she knew – the Chamber reopened; Voldemort resurrected; Harry walking to his death)

(maybe not, considering how she'd changed things, but was she willing to take that chance?)

They could help her. Of all the adults she'd known – hadn't these people proven themselves enough?

(she still didn't want to do it)

(she was nauseous at the very idea)

(but she'd faced down Voldemort. She'd walked to her death. She'd died – twice)

(she could do this)

"Harry, Sirius, Remus," Rose said hesitantly. "Could we… could we go to the sitting room? I need to tell you something."

She told them everything:

Her reincarnation.

("What do you mean, Death told you?"

"You know, the End of All Things, Destroyer of Worlds. That Death.")

Her first life.

("Dumbledore left you with Petunia?"

"Hang on – is that why you don't trust him?"

"Wait, you're not actually a seer, are you? That was just to cover up your knowledge – ")

("Why did Hagrid deliver your letter?"

"Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn't want to send me to Hogwarts. He had to chase me down.")

("Wait, why weren't you put with me and Remus?")

Her time at Hogwarts.

("You went after – "

"Why didn't you tell a professor?!"

"Professor McGonagall didn't believe us, what else were we supposed to –"

"Tell another one‼")

("A basilisk in the basement, there is absolutely no way either of you are going back to that place – ")

("I broke out of Azkaban?! Merlin, I'm so cool.")

You-Know-Who's return.

("They let you compete? You were fourteen – ")

("Are we not going to talk about You-Know-Who –")

And then, finally, her death.

("You walked to your –")

("Dumbledore told you to –")

… Both of them.

("Death told me I could try again. He sent me here")

(she hadn't meant to, but once she started, she couldn't stop)

At last, silence.

"So, I have to die," Harry said softly.

Rose flinched and glared fiercely at him. "Absolutely not," she hissed. Had she not just gone over this? Across her, Sirius and Remus were adding their fervent agreements.

Not Harry, they all thought. Not Harry.

"We'll find a way," she told him. "And if not, we'll just destroy the other horcruxes, dose You-Know-Who with Draught of Living Death, and lock him up somewhere until you die naturally of old age."

Harry frowned. "But you came back, didn't you? Wouldn't I come back too?"

"Not necessarily," Rose said. "I've talked to Death about this – " (there was a distressed noise from Remus at the reminder that she'd spoken to Death) "and even he doesn't know why I came back, if it was the horcrux or Hallows or both. I'm not willing to risk it."

"Rose is right," Sirius rasped. "We're not going to take the chance of you dying, Harry. Never."

Self-sacrificing idiot, Rose thought at her brother fondly. You should've known better than to suggest that to a dog animagus and a werewolf.

"Not that I want to die," Harry said carefully. "But if your plan doesn't work, then You-Know-Who would come back." He looked at Sirius and Remus. "You've never talked about how bad the first war was, but I can guess. Am I really worth – "

"Yes," Remus said emphatically. He stared at Harry hard, his normally gentle amber eyes ringed with gold. "I would rather a hundred others die than risk you." That, coming from Remus, was enough to shut Harry up. He looked down at his hands, blushing.

"… Alright," Harry mumbled.

"Besides," Remus added, eyes sharpening on Rose. "Just because you might come back doesn't mean Rosie would too."

Sirius and Harry, evidently not having thought of this, paled dramatically.

"You're right," Harry said firmly. "Absolutely no dying."

"Now that's out of the way," Sirius said abruptly. "Can we talk about how Death gave Rose a familiar and she named it after a bloody goddess of war?"

The tension cleared and they laughed.

"It certainly explains a lot," Remus sighed. Rose flushed guiltily.

"It fits, though," Harry said, grinning slightly. "Macha's very bloodthirsty. You ought to hear her sometimes – she's always whining that Rose won't let her eat anyone."

Remus stared. "Occamies don't eat people."

Harry shrugged. "Macha wants to."

Remus turned his gaze on her, eyes accusing. Rose looked back innocently. "She hasn't eaten anyone yet, has she?"

Sirius, his face in his hands, gave a muffled mumble that sounded like because she's a foot long.

"Even if she does, she wouldn't get caught," Harry reassured them. Oddly enough, they relaxed a little.

"At least there's that," Remus sighed.

There was an odd feeling in Rose's chest. She felt warm, like she'd just had a cup of hot chocolate, and wanted to crush Remus and Sirius into a hug. So, she did just that, jumping over the coffee table and tackling both of them into the sofa.

"Fucking hell," Sirius grunted, hugging her back. "Warn us next time, won't you?"

"Language," Remus chided, his voice slightly muffled. He cursed as Harry tackled all three of them, making Sirius snicker.

"Thank you," Rose whispered.

Thank you for believing me.

Thank you for helping me.

Thank you for loving me even after everything I've done.

Harry, catching the tail end of her meaning, hugged her tighter. "Stupid," he sighed fondly. "You should've told us earlier."

"Sorry," Rose mumbled. "'was scared."

Sirius made an irritated noise. He untangled himself, putting one hand on Harry's shoulder and the other on Rose's.

"Let me make this very, very clear," he said forcefully. "Harry, Rose, the two of you could burn down the country, take over the Ministry, and blow up Muggles for shits and giggles, and all Remus and I would do is ask you how we can help. We don't give a single flying fuck what you do or tell us as long as you're safe and happy. I thought we'd made that clear before, but you're both thicker than I thought."

"Don't call them thick, Sirius," Remus said exasperatedly. He didn't disagree with anything else Sirius had said, though.

Rose could feel an echo of Harry's shock. It was terrifying to learn exactly how unconditionally they would be loved. They could do whatever they wanted, and still Remus and Sirius would be on their side no matter what.

"Your parents would agree," Sirius said quietly. "You know they were working to get out of the country? They were going to go to Australia or the Americas and leave Britain to You-Know-Who to keep you safe."

"Oh." Harry said.

Remus smiled affectionately and ruffled Harry's hair, who ducked away half-heartedly. "Yes, oh. So, if you're worried about what your parents would think of you – Sirius and I can assure you that they wouldn't give a single fuck."

"You cursed!" Rose blurted out. Harry and Sirius snickered as Remus rolled his eyes.

"Yes, well, sometimes the situation requires it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor Lupin," she and Harry chorused obediently, grinning at him mischievously before they scrambled out of the room.

"Good night!" Harry yelled.

"We've got murders to plan!" Rose added.

"Countries to take over!"

"Worlds to dominate!"

They giggled when they heard Remus' exasperated exclamation behind them. Holding hands, they ran to her room. Tomorrow, the four of them would talk and plan. For now, though, Rose felt lighter than she ever had, and she and Harry whispered late into the night before they fell asleep.

(she was so, so lucky to have them)

(she didn't deserve them, not at all, but she would work every day of her life to be worthy)

Miss Rose Potter and Company are cordially invited to attend a 12th birthday celebration in honor of Blaise Zabini

Sunday, July 5th at 2 o'clock in the afternoon

"Rosie," Sirius said in a too-calm voice. "Why exactly are you friends with the son of the Black Widow?"

Rose pulled out the puppy dog eyes. "I met him on the train, Sirius," she said earnestly. "He's not like that, I promise."

(she knew her practice would come in handy)

Sirius sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Remus, go over poisons with them, won't you?"

"Yes, dear," Remus sighed, stirring a lump of sugar into his tea.

"And hex Zabini to pieces if he ever does anything you don't like, Rosie."

"You shouldn't be encouraging her to go to violence as the first resort, Padfoot."

Rose sighed. "I wouldn't do that anyway. I want him on my side."

Sirius groaned and put his head in his arms. "Oh Merlin, she's collecting minions."

"We did tell her we didn't care what she did," Remus said mildly.

"Blaise isn't a minion!"

"I'm not going to tell her to stop, Moony, Rosie can do what she wants, I just never expected I'd be raising a bloody Dark Lord when James asked me to be godfather."

"I'm not going to be a Dark Lord!"

"No, you're going to be a Grey Lord," Harry muttered. Then, "Ow! Elbows!"

Rose had fallen in love. Lord Aida Zabini was beautiful, composed, and deadly; she had long, dark curls that flowed loosely down her back, heavy-lidded soulful brown eyes, and a perpetual smile that whispered I know something you don't.

Rose didn't know if she wanted to kiss her or become her. Maybe both.

Beside her, Blaise gave an irritated sigh. Daphne patted him on the back sympathetically.

"Don't pout, Blaise, it's unbecoming. It's not your mother's fault she's more beautiful, charming, and interesting than you."

"You're too young for her anyway," Blaise muttered mulishly. "And you're supposed to be my friend."

Theodore flung a handful of grass at him. Blaise dodged, still scowling.

"Leave her alone, Blaise, it took Daphne and I a few hours too."

"It's just so annoying," Blaise complained.

"Oh, I agree," Daphne sighed airily. "You're not the only one who has to be in Rose's lovestruck presence, you know. I think I might be sick."

"You're too well-bred to be sick, Daph."

"Well, I'm certainly being put to the test. Look at her, it's nauseating."

The other three looked at her. Rose, splayed out on the grass, paid them no mind. They were sitting under a tree, shaded by its thick green leaves, the rest of their peers having opted for Quidditch. Rose gazed at the branch above her head and thought it a perfect match to Aida Zabini's eyes. She let out another dreamy sigh. Aida Zabini looked at people like they were prey.

"Well, Potter did say he'd never seen her like that before." Theodore said at last. "Perhaps she's never had a crush before and her brain's melting."

"Her brain can't melt, she still thinks that bloody corks of all things were one of the contributing factors to the Goblin War of 1187 – "

"Why in Circe's name is that your main concern?!"

"It's important, I don't see any way how – "

"It's because a plague killed of a bunch of cork trees a few years earlier which directly led to a shortage of alcohol – "

"Jigger exaggerated that shortage, you know that alcohol imports were at a peak and more than made up for it – "

"Then how do you explain – "

"Fucking hell," Theodore said, burying his face in his hands. "This whole time – all it took – "

"We should've guessed," Daphne sighed.

"You really should've," Rose agreed, cutting off her argument with Blaise before they came to blows. "When have I ever agreed with Blaise on – wait."

Rose whipped around and saw that the crowd of adults, who'd previously been chatting in front of the glass doors to the manor, had all but disappeared inside a nearby tent. She turned back to Blaise, eyes wide, to see him already looking at her with an exasperated expression.

"Finally noticed, have you?" He asked dryly.

"They're finally gone – "

"They've been gone for half an hour – "

"And you let me lie there – "

"You hexed us whenever we tried to disturb you‼"

"And you're so weak that you can't take a few Stinging Hexes, I'm aware – "

"You gave me welts in places no welts ought to be – "

"Poor baby, now can we go to the – "

"For Merlin's sake!" Daphne cried. She flicked Rose and Blaise's foreheads. "Stop flirting and let's go already."

"We're not flirting!" Rose and Blaise squawked in unison, but they scrambled up nonetheless and made their way back into the manor.

"Five galleons they're together by Yule," Theodore muttered, trailing after them.

"Of fifth year, maybe," Daphne sighed. "Oblivious idiots."

"I'm not flirting with you," Rose told Blaise firmly. He gave her a flat look.

"Of course you're not, you're in love with my mum."

"Your mum is amazing," Rose said vehemently. "Besides, we're far too young to be thinking of any of that silliness, we're only twelve."

That got her looks from all three Slytherins.

"You're joking, right?"

Rose looked back confusedly.

"Oh Merlin, she's not." Theodore breathed in horror. "Don't you know that – "

"Shut up, Theo," Daphne sighed. "You'll just break her again; she's clearly not built for this. We should just enjoy the show, I think it's going to be a very exciting few years."

"Care to explain what you're talking about?" Rose asked irritably.

"It's probably best that we don't," Theodore said.

"Live in blissful ignorance," Blaise added.

Daphne just gave her a smile.

"You're all prats," Rose sulked.

"Yeah, but we're prats who've got a dueling chamber."

Potter Manor's dueling chamber was undeniably crude when compared to the Zabini's. It had never been a priority of Sirius and Remus to keep it up to date, so while it had stayed in adequate shape thanks to the elves, it would take three months, a team of goblins, and a truly absurd number of galleons to renew the enchantments, check the runic configurations, and take into account the more recent developments in the dueling and warding sphere. In the meantime, they taught her and Harry to hone their reflexes with barrages of Stinging Hexes, and increase their accuracy with increasingly smaller, faster, and more agile targets.

For all family names and legacies were important to wixen, magical power and ability trumped it all. Albus Dumbledore, a half-blood from a minor pureblood family, had fingers in near every political pie. Tom Riddle, no-name half-blood, had nearly brought Wizarding Britain to its knees. If Rose wanted to form a third side, she needed to train.

She didn't expect to match them – she was still a second year, reincarnation or not – but she needed to be powerful enough that people thought twice about siding with one or the other. Andromeda, in her time as the Black and Potter proxies, had turned the Neutral faction into one that could compete with the Progressives and Traditionalists, but she had no power in Hogwarts. Dueling with Blaise, Daphne, and Theodore served dual purposes: it allowed her to measure herself against her peers, and it allowed her to start building a foundation of respect in Slytherin.

(no one but Sirius and Remus knew about the Parseltongue. Rose was looking forward to that reveal)

"Aguamenti!" Rose cried. Her overpowered Water-Summoning Spell covered the floor. Theodore dodged, but he seemed a little puzzled. It was only water, after all.

She twisted out of the way of a tarantallegra and froze the water with a glacius. Theodore, who hadn't paid the water much mind due to the water-repellant enchantments woven into his clothing, slipped. Agility gone, it was easy to get him with a stupefy.

The moment the wards sensed Theodore's unconsciousness, the spell was undone. A Nullifier ward reversed all spells cast since it'd been raised, activated by a formal surrender, unconsciousness, or a third party. It wouldn't do anything against the more powerful spells, of course, and did very little for injuries, but for basic conjurations, transfigurations, and the like, it was wonderful.

Theodore groaned good-naturedly as she hefted him to his feet. "Stupefy's a fifth year charm," he complained. "At this point, I think you're just showing off."

"No, she's having fun," Daphne corrected. "When did you learn all those spells, anyway? Aguamenti's sixth year." She and Blaise were adequate duelers for their age, but they were more suited to verbal battles and manipulation. Rose and Theodore were the ones who were truly training.

"She learned the Water-Summoning Charm to make tea," Theodore grumbled.

"And I learned the Freezing Charm over Yule so Harry and I could go ice-skating," Rose chirped. It was second year material.

"You're unbelievable," Blaise sighed. "If you're quite finished, however, it's nearly time for cake."

Rose perked up immediately, as did Theodore, though he was still massaging the back of his head. Guilty, Rose shot him a low-powered numbing spell. Theodore grinned at her in thanks.

They headed back to the grounds, Blaise and Daphne taking the lead as they chatted. The two were close, pushed together as the heirs of two prominent Neutral families. Rose and Theodore trailed behind them in comfortable silence.

"You'll tell me what you're training for one day, won't you?" Theodore murmured. Rose found she wasn't entirely surprised that he'd picked up on her urgency – he was unnervingly perceptive.

"It's not that I don't trust you…" she began, but Theodore cut her off.

"You don't need to explain – I'm a Slytherin. We understand the importance of secrets," he grinned. "But eventually – "

"I'll tell you one day," she said firmly. "Thank you, Theodore."

A small smile, something soft in his expression. "You can call me Theo, you know. We're friends, aren't we?" At that, there was a flicker of vulnerability, of uncertainty.

"Yes," Rose said forcefully. She hated the hesitancy on his face. She wanted it gone. "You're one of my very best friends, Theo."

Resisting the urge to crush him into a hug, she settled for grabbing his hand and swinging merrily. "Skip with me?"

She could see the refusal forming on his face, so she turned her best pair of puppy dog eyes on him. He crumbled.

"… As long as no one sees," he sighed.

Rose beamed, linking arms with him and skipping. She grabbed Daphne's arm as they passed, dragging her along with them.

"What the fu-"

"Careful, Daph!" Blaise called, grabbing Daphne's other arm. "What would your mother say?"

"She would say that the heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass does not skip – "

"Not even to please the Zabini heir?" he asked cheekily. "And the Nott heir? And the potential Black heir?"

"You know you want to," Rose teased.

"I want no such thing," Daphne sighed, acquiescing nonetheless. Despite her outward reluctance, Rose could see the smile pulling at the edge of her lips. They slowed down once they got to the stairs though, fixing their hair and straightening her robes.

Stepping outside, Blaise and Rose started arguing about history again, as if they'd stepped inside to check something from a book. Daphne and Theo bore practiced looks of long-suffering on their faces, although they might not've been entirely feigned.

They met up with the others – nearly the entirety of the first and second year Slytherins, quite a few upper year Slytherins, a great many Ravenclaws, and Harry. They were flushed and windblown from Quidditch, Harry and Malfoy having called a temporary truce.

"Finally stopped trailing after Lord Zabini?" Malfoy sneered at her. "You were looking even more pathetic than usual."

She smiled sweetly back at him. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Malfoy. At least she wanted to speak with me."

Aida Zabini's greeting had been perfunctory to Malfoy, who'd only been invited because he was in Blaise's year in Slytherin and because of his father's position. Meanwhile, she had positively cooed over Rose. Rose wanted to smile just thinking about it.

("Oh Merlin, you must let me do your hair one day, it's absolutely gorgeous – oh, and those eyes – you have the most beautiful colouring I've ever seen – ")

Blaise grinned, baring his teeth. "One day, Malfoy, you'll have to admit that Rose is better than you in every possible way, and when that day comes, I will laugh in your face."

There were a number of wide eyes and shocked looks at that – Blaise had been openly friendly with Rose, but this was practically a declaration of support.

"Go easy on him, Zabini," Derrick chided. "It's not his fault he can't see past the end of his nose."

Rose beamed. "Hello, Derrick!"

He grinned at her. "Hello, Potter. I hadn't realized there'd been so many advancements in animal-to-human transfiguration recently, you haven't even got whiskers."

Harry looked appalled but relaxed confusedly when Rose burst out laughing.

"I've missed you," she giggled. "It's just not the same without your caustic commentary."

"Four syllables, Potter, my word! How remarkable."

She knew she'd have a good deal of explaining to do later, judging by Harry and Theo's looks, but for now she revelled in the open support Blaise and Derrick had given her and the look on Malfoy's face. Merlin, verbal sparring was fun.

Sirius was trickier than a barrel of hinkypunks when he wanted to be. He'd taken to hanging out in his Grim form to try and smell which of her male friends owned the kitten he'd scented on her clothes, so Rose had hurriedly written Diggory and told him to only send letters to her at odd hours.

No offense, Potter, but isn't that a bit excessive? He'd written skeptically.

Absolutely, she'd agreed. But it's the principle of the thing, you understand. If he finds out, he wins.

Fair enough, he'd replied, and hadn't questioned her again. You're a very competitive person, aren't you?

Rose had laughed out loud. You have no idea.

(hadn't she turned down the afterlife to try and live her life better? If life was a game, she was going to play until she won)