QLFC: Round 5, Captain: character flaw of dishonesty
Chudley Cannons Team Challenge: include an epigraph
Warnings/notes: contains semi-graphic descriptions of mental, physical and sexual abuse
WC: 3000
The Most Fanciable Boy In School
Sometimes we refuse to see how bad
something is until it completely destroys us
(Unknown)
"Bartley fancies you, you know?"
Rose's breath caught in her throat, not quite believing what she'd just heard. A moment later, her heart started thumping against her chest, and she chanced a glance at a bunch of sixth year boys fooling around in the Common Room.
Some were lounging in armchairs, wands in hands, levitating small bits of parchment that might have been the beginning of an essay. But there was one boy in particular who caught Rose's attention. He caught everyone's attention.
Golden hair, a smooth, round face with a warm, confident smile. His skin was slightly tanned from years spent living on the Greek islands with his parents.
Even the third years developed heart palpitations when he was in their vicinity. And Rose was sure that every girl in the school had fantasised about kissing him at least once; herself included.
So, when his honey-coloured eyes met hers across the room, his perfectly round lips curling into a smile, her heart skipped a beat.
She looked back to Georgia and shook her head. "That's ridiculous."
"It's true," Georgia insisted. "Jasmine overheard your cousin and him talking or something. James told him to keep his filthy hands off of you — that's what Jasmine said, anyway."
"Why… why would James say that?" Rose whispered, stealing another glance at the handsome boy. He was watching her… her… almost as if he really did fancy her.
She forgot to breathe.
Georgia shrugged. "You should go and talk to him," she said.
"I can't do that!" Rose gasped. "I'll make an idiot of myself. Besides… can you trust Jasmine's word? We aren't exactly best friends, are we? I'm sure she'd love nothing more than to embarrass me in front of him."
Georgia shrugged again, seeming to find some truth in Rose's words.
Still, the boy in question's eyes remained on her, burning into her skin.
Rose swallowed.
"Rose!" Georgia hissed. Her eyes widened. "He's coming over."
Rose's head snapped to her left. Georgia was right. He was coming over, his eyes still fixated on her, his body making a beeline.
Oh, Merlin.
Georgia sat there stunned, offering no help as the tall Beater frame of Bartley MacMillan turned a spare chair around at the table and joined them.
"Evening, ladies," he said, his voice as sweet as his face.
Rose and Georgia said nothing, but Rose's face burned red. She could feel her blush creeping across every inch of skin, trailing all the way across to her ears.
Bartley turned to Georgia, the sweetest, kindest smile etched on his features. Rose heard Georgia gasp again.
"Mind if I speak to Rose alone?" he said.
Georgia reddened, nodded, and left without a word.
Rose stared at her hands, unsure if she wanted to be alone with this boy — a long-term fantasy in her head — or run away and join Georgia.
"Hey, Rose."
He spoke softly. He was kind, she thought. Good-looking and kind. All that she'd imagined him to be.
Rose found the courage to look up. He was smiling at her with such warmth that her heart just about melted. "Hi," she managed to choke out.
He smiled. "Homework?" He slid her half-written essay towards him. Rose half-reached to stop him but retracted her hand at the last minute. She watched as his eyes scanned it. His smile grew. "Wow, I reckon an Outstanding on this for sure. You're smart. I've always thought that."
Rose flushed. He thought she was smart?
"Thanks," she muttered, taking back her essay.
There was a short silence until he spoke again, his voice filled with a confidence she wished she possessed. Maybe that came with knowing all the girls fancied him.
"Listen, Rose, I've been wanting to ask…"
Rose felt her heart start its rapid beating again.
"There's a Hogsmeade visit this Saturday and I was wondering…" Rose saw colour creep into his cheeks. "Would you like to go with me? You know —" he grimaced, "— as a date?"
Rose opened her mouth to reply, but she didn't even get the chance before he quickly added, "Only if you want, of course! I would understand —"
Rose was aware that some heads were turning her way. Bartley MacMillan was talking to someone that wasn't them. There'd be gossip for weeks.
He was watching her, looking a bit uncertain at her silence. He almost looked defeated.
"Yes!" she breathed. "Yes. I'll go to Hogsmeade with you."
The most charming, beautiful smile graced his lips at her reply. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "I'll meet you at the gates on Saturday at nine?"
Rose nodded, her own smile forming.
She'd just been asked out — asked out by the most fanciable boy in the whole school. He wanted to go to Hogsmeade with her.
…
"Rose, I'm not sure going out with him is a good idea."
"Why, James? Are you jealous?"
"No, I just know the bloke better than you. I play Quidditch with him. He's —"
"He likes me, James. He. Likes. Me."
…
She was at the gates with five minutes to spare. Georgia had helped her pick an outfit that she considered appropriate for a first date, while Jasmine had silently seethed from her four-poster bed.
She wanted to be in Rose's position, especially when Georgia gushed about the idea of kissing Bartley.
"I bet his lips are so soft…" Georgia sighed. "I wish it was me."
Rose grinned. Maybe she would get to kiss him. Part of her hoped she would. She'd never kissed anyone before.
She looked around as students filed past her in small groups. She was early, she reasoned. He'd said nine. Besides, he'd been the one to ask her out. It would be ridiculous if he never showed up and left her standing —
"Hi, Rose."
She jumped and spun. Bartley was dressed in the fanciest casual clothes she'd ever seen him wear. Even when she'd caught glimpses of him when he'd been dating that Hufflepuff in his year, he'd never dressed like that.
It only made him look even more handsome.
"Hi," she said brightly.
He smiled and nodded towards Hogsmeade. "Shall we?"
She nodded, and they began walking. Rose searched for something to say, but she struggled with how close he was to her. His arm would brush against hers, and sometimes his hand would reach out as if wanting to hold hers, but then he'd drop it back at his side again.
Eventually, she said, "How's sixth year?"
The dumbest, most boring question one could ask, but it was too late to take it back now.
"Oh, you know… NEWTs."
"Yeah," Rose said. "OWLs."
"They're easy in comparison. And you'll be fine, I'm sure. Didn't your mum get really high marks?"
Rose flushed. "Yeah, I think…"
"You probably don't want to talk about her, huh?"
"Not really."
"Where would you like to go, then?"
Rose shrugged. She rather liked Honeydukes, but would he consider that childish? She didn't want to go to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which had opened up in Hogsmeade a few years back because, well…
"Um… maybe the Three Broomsticks?"
Bartley nodded and smiled. "I was about to suggest that." This time he did offer his hand, and she accepted.
Like she'd hoped, it was warm and gentle.
She sighed.
…
"What have you done with him, Rose?"
"That's none of your business, James."
"You're my cousin and I care about you."
"He's been nothing but sweet. Why are you so worried? You're like Dad."
…
Rose stood on the Astronomy Tower, the cool air settling on her skin. It was a cloudless night, and the full moon shone.
Her eyes watched as she waited.
Waited for him.
Bartley.
Her boyfriend.
He'd declared himself her boyfriend — or she his girlfriend — on their first Hogsmeade trip. It had been at the end after spending the morning in the Three Broomsticks and the afternoon wandering other places. He'd stopped and turned to face her.
Without warning, he'd leaned forward and kissed her, taking her completely — but pleasantly — by surprise. His lips had been warm and gentle against hers. And then he'd pulled away, beaming at her.
"I hope you didn't mind," he'd said.
"No," Rose had replied, feeling pleased with herself. "It was nice."
"I'm glad." He'd clasped her hands so tightly then, to a point that she wouldn't have been able to pull away even if she'd wanted to. He'd looked at her with his honey eyes and said, "I'm so glad you're my girlfriend now. I really like you. I want you to sit with me at breakfast tomorrow."
For a moment, Rose thought he was going to continue holding her hands, but he dropped them after that, and she felt immediate relief from his strength.
"Okay," she'd said, smiling.
He'd returned it.
Girlfriend. The word sounded nice.
And a month later, she waited atop the Astronomy Tower where he'd told her to meet her. It was after midnight, one of many secret rendezvous they'd had over the past weeks, stealing away into empty classrooms and kissing until their lips were raw; meeting in places, but never the Common Room.
I like it when we're alone, he'd always say.
"Hi, Rose."
She turned, smiling as he appeared from the door. "Hi," she said, taking in his almost godlike appearance under the moonlight. He was Gryffindor's best Beater and because of that, he had the muscle to show for it. She liked it when he held her. He was so strong, so… everything.
He kissed her lips gently when he approached, cupping her face, and then bringing her towards him in a firmer embrace. He kissed her fiercely this time, holding her against him.
When he was finished kissing her, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. And then he said the words she'd longed to hear from him long before they'd started dating.
"I love you, Rose."
She was silent. Breathless. He sounded so sincere and genuine, like they weren't just words for him.
"Rose?"
"I love you, too," she whispered back.
He smiled against her, drawing her in once again for another kiss. And this time he didn't pull away. He kept kissing her, whispering against her mouth how much he loved her. His hands were around her waist, exploring her body. Whenever she tried to pull away, he simply pulled her back towards him.
"We want this," he whispered, trailing his lips down her neck. "We love each other."
He pushed her slowly, gently, until her back was against the wall. She couldn't move against his weight. Her mind felt muddled, confused.
"We want this," he kept whispering to her. "I love you. I love you…"
She didn't know what she wanted. But he loved her, and she loved him, and it had been on her mind, but she hadn't pictured it happening in the Astronomy Tower.
He forced his tongue inside her mouth, his whole body crushing her now. She relaxed against him, realising he wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted.
No, she corrected. What they both wanted. That was what he'd said.
…
"How'd you get those bruises on your arms, Rose?"
"Nowhere."
"I've seen bruises like that before, you know? His last girlfriend, she had them, too."
"I got a little reckless in Charms, if you must know."
"What did he do to you?"
"Nothing. He loves me. Leave me alone."
…
"You're a bit tense. Is everything alright?"
Bartley moved even closer than he already was to Rose. He placed his arm around her, his fingers pressing on her arm so she couldn't leave.
"Just tired, I guess," Rose said, and she shifted her gaze to the window where the darkening sky was opening up, showing the stars and moon.
Bartley chuckled to himself. "Yes, well, we were up late last night, weren't we?"
His friends sitting around them sniggered while Rose just stared out the window without responding.
Two months they'd been together now and winter had well and truly set in. The Common Room with Bartley and his friends was where Rose now sat, every night, with her essays and homework for her approaching OWL exams building up in her dormitory.
She didn't need to put so much pressure on herself, he kept telling her. She was smart enough to pass all her exams without studying.
He was proud of her, he'd say. It didn't matter what her marks were. He'd love her no matter what. He was the only one who could love her.
Her first Dreadful in Transfiguration had disagreed.
"Oh well," Bartley had laughed when she'd told him. "That's what happens when you get a boyfriend. You find more important things to think about than your studies. It's just a D. I've had loads of those."
She didn't even attempt to do her homework until she bid him goodnight. Then she'd close the drapes of her four poster bed and study until she fell asleep. He always wanted her to sit with him in the evenings. In fact, he always wanted to be around her — or her to be around him. He'd walk her to and from every class, watching and waiting to make sure she was in the classroom before he left for his own.
He had memorized her schedule, and he'd be disappointed if she took a different route for a change.
"I thought you wanted to walk with me," he'd pout. "Do you not love me anymore?"
"I do. I just had to use the bathroom."
"Well, there's bathrooms on the way to the Great Hall. Next time use those ones."
"Okay. Sorry."
"That's okay." He'd then walk with his arm around her, his fingers leaving white marks on her skin beneath her robes. He didn't let her go again until he'd kissed her goodbye and watched her sit down.
He was sweet, she always thought. No other boyfriends did that.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Bartley said again, drawing her from her thoughts.
She looked at him and smiled. She was only pretty when she smiled, he told her. He wanted her to smile all the time. Otherwise she wasn't as pretty.
"I'm really tired," she said. "I'm going to go to bed."
She felt his nails dig into her arm, but then he released her and she was allowed to stand up.
"Goodnight, beautiful," he said, beaming up at her. "I love you."
…
"Why don't you come home for Easter with us?"
"I'm staying with Bartley this time. He wants to be alone with me."
"Do you want to, though?"
"He says we don't get to spend enough time together."
"That didn't answer the question."
…
"I thought you loved me, Rose."
He'd cornered her in a private area on the castle grounds. It was a cold, snowy day and everyone else had decided to keep indoors. But Bartley had told her he — no, they — wanted to go for a walk by the frozen lake.
He'd been quieter than usual, holding her hand, but not gripping it protectively like he usually did. In fact, he barely touched her, he barely talked.
Rose wondered if she'd done something to upset him. She was always the reason he was upset, he said. But she couldn't think of anything this time. She'd spent all morning with him except for one part where he'd gone to see Professor McGonagall.
"Probably an award of some kind," he'd joked.
"I do love you," she whispered.
He was so close to her, she wondered if he was going to kiss her. He liked kissing her when she was backed into a corner like this.
"I'm not sure you do, Rose," he said. His hand slid up her arm, gripping it.
"I… I do," she stammered. "I do love you. I love you more than anything. You know that."
His other hand pinned her other arm now. She was completely within his control. He told her she liked it.
"I'm sad, Rose."
"W-why?"
"McGonagall… she thinks I hurt you. Did you tell her that?"
"No!" Rose protested. "I never said anything to Professor McGonagall!"
"She's wrong."
"Of course she's wrong." Rose looked up, trying to convince him with her gaze. Why would she say anything like that? Bartley didn't hurt her. He was kind and loving… he loved her so much. He always said that.
His cold lips trailed down her neck, his hands still holding her arms in place. "You're the love of my life, Rose. You give me so much. You're mine forever. You understand that, right?"
"Y-yes."
"We'll get married after we finish Hogwarts."
"Yes."
"You're mine forever." He continued to kiss her, his hand moving up to around her neck. She felt her airways begin to close, the pressure of his hold strong. She still had the marks from last time he'd done this.
But this time he was wrenched away suddenly. She hadn't even registered what was happening before there was a thud and Bartley landed on the hard ground, unconscious.
Rose blinked, staring down at her boyfriend, and then looked up to see her cousin, James, his fist clenched and bloodied and… Professor McGonagall.
No one spoke for a long while. Then, the headmistress looked at Rose, pity in her expression and said softly, "Come with me, Miss Weasley. Mr Potter, please ask Professor Longbottom to help you escort Mr MacMillan up to the hospital wing."
…
"Why did you tell Professor McGonagall?"
"I didn't. I told your parents over Easter. They told her."
"Why?"
"Because you're worth more than that piece of shit."
"Don't call him that."
"I was being kind."
"He loves me."
"One day, someone is going to fall in love with you, Rose, and then you'll realise that he didn't. Not one bit."
Bartley is an OC of mine that I've had in my head and sometimes write. He's never a nice person. And yes, if you're wondering, he is Ernie MacMillan's son, but Ernie will be horrified learning about his son's behaviour. Maybe one day I'll write that.