Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, nor do I own Harry Potter. All ideas are my own.
Thunder roared on into the night, pausing for only an hour in order to take a deep breath, before crashing down just as violently before. As a result, I got little to no sleep. Cranky and tired, I was not in the mood to deal with anyone today.
I needed to clear my head this morning, my thoughts had been running away with me, and Al's revelation last night certainly didn't help the matter. I thought of asking him to go fly with me, but then second guessed it. He will still be, naturally, upset and angry, so it's not the best idea to put him on a broom at the moment.
I can't believe I agreed to go with Anto to the ball, I hadn't even agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him - what was I thinking? At least now I have forced myself into making a choice, I mean, what's the worst that could happen? He is charming, and attractive, and gets on well with James and Fred, so must have a good sense of humour.
Our final Quidditch practise before the Gryffindor and Slytherin match is tomorrow. The match was scheduled to be this week, but due to the bad weather the game was moved. And thank god it was, trying to play Quidditch this week has been a bloody nightmare. Astrid was knocked off her broom startled by a crack of thunder, Fred hit himself in the face with his beaters bat, and then to top it all off, the heavens opened, drowning us all in pouring rain.
I'm mildly confident about this match next week. As much as I feel for Al, and believe me my heart breaks for him, a tiny weeny part of me is glad that their team spirit will be at the lowest it's ever been. It means they'll play poorly, and give us a better chance at winning.
Dad sometimes says I should've been in Slytherin as, when needs be, I have this sneaky sly side, which on occasion, can be nasty and vindictive. But of course we've seen this bitchy side to Rose, one chat with Malfoy and the devil on my shoulder rears its ugly head.
It wouldn't surprise me if Nott, a beater alongside Malfoy, aimed more bludgers at Al instead of us Gryffindors. I wonder what it must have been like, Al returning to his dormitory to sleep next to the guy who's been fucking his girlfriend in the bed next to him. The only thing that helps to reassure me, is the fact that I know Al has his mates Benji and Jack with him, who will defend him against Nott and the others. Not that I think Malfoy and Zabini will kick off, because I honestly think they'd rather stay out of it.
From the look on their faces yesterday, they appeared slightly mortified by Nott's behaviour, especially seeing as it was Nott who wronged Al, and not the other way around. Maybe Malfoy would've congratulated Nott, as he just sees it as getting a leg over, but I hope upon seeing how hurt Al was, he would at least feel some sympathy for it.
I doubt it though, Malfoy has never properly been in love. Well that's what I think anyway, I don't believe that someone who is in love would have multiple girls on the go. It's as if his slags, as I once called them and the name just stuck, are on a rota, switched in and out depending on the time and date. No, Malfoy wouldn't know true love if it stared him in the face.
I really ought to stop calling the idiots that idolise Malfoy, 'the slags'. After all, it's their choice to do with their body what they wish. I personally wouldn't do such a thing, but then they wouldn't choose to spend their days playing Wizard Chess, or reading a good book.
My mum brought me up to have very strong morals, and when I have children I intend to do the same. I'm all for girls supporting girls, and sometimes need to remind myself of my feminism, before criticising other women.
But then again, it is natural to dislike some people. I don't like Belle and Eliza, but that doesn't mean I don't support girls, I do, but they have done nothing to deserve my respect or support, and have in fact disrespected me numerous times, so my logic doesn't apply to them.
Which reminds me, I'm quite surprised that Belle hasn't been doting on Malfoy recently. I can't say she wouldn't jump at the chance if he asked her to, she would probably present herself on a silver platter if he really wanted her to, but she seems to have gone off him slightly.
I overheard her telling Eliza that his "head is away in the clouds right now", and I'm sorry, but what does she expect, he's just lost his mother. Yes, when he heard bad news beforehand, he would turn to his usual tactics of excessive sex, using girls to distract him from his problems, but that was just bad news, not news of his mother's death.
I'm not defending him of course, I just think it's plain logic. You're not gonna be of sane mind less than 2 weeks after losing your mum.
She seems to think it's something different though. That it's more than the distress and trauma of his mother's death. She thinks that someone has caught his attention, for more than just sex. It makes me laugh really, Malfoy actually having genuine feelings for someone? Ha, I'll believe it when I see it.
My Wednesday is going fine, great actually, much better than expected for someone running on less than 4 hours of sleep, until I remember that it is, in fact, Wednesday, and that means detention with Slughorn. Charms runs smoothly, (easy as always), and Transfiguration drags on, despite it being one of my favourite classes and best subjects.
When in Charms, I'm tempted to ask Professor Flitwick about my letter, and whether there is some secret charm placed on it. But then again, he might just think I'm mad. After all, it is a piece of parchment with 'Miss Rose Weasley' scrawled along the top, it could appear as if I've just written my own name on parchment for fun, like when you practise your signature as a kid in case one day you suddenly become famous.
I used to practise my own signature over and over again on the backs of my muggle Primary School books, but just for fun really. I imagined on occasion what it might be like to have to write your name countless times for fans, but not for reasons of glory or excessive fame, but for having done some good in the world.
I've always wanted to write a book, and update the current books on new magic, as our magic is constantly evolving and changing, new curses and spells are formed 24/7, and our charms books are at a disadvantage without this new knowledge.
I've always been particularly fascinated by the ways in which magic works. When I was younger, I was watching a muggle film with my parents, one of my Mum's favourites, the Notebook, and my Mum said that the main characters were like soulmates. I asked her to explain what soulmates are, and she said they're two people who are ideally suited to one another. They just seem to click, always find their way back to each other, and are destined to spend the rest of their life with each other.
She also said that soulmates in the muggle world and wizarding world are very, very different. That the word soulmate is constantly thrown about with muggles, but it carries no weight, no gravity, not like in the wizarding world, where your soulmate literally changes your life.
Apparently, when you meet your soulmate in the wizarding world, you become magically bonded with them for life, if they die, so do you. I remember being fascinated by this branch of magic, and went to the library the next day to go and research it further, but to no avail. It hasn't been researched or understood enough, and it is all very complex.
Soulmate magic differs depending on each individual situation, what kind of magic understands one couple may not understand the other. My Mum and Dad are soulmates, in the muggle sense, but I'm not sure if they are in the wizarding world. I've never really asked, but now I'm thinking about it, intend to when I travel home for Christmas. I think they probably are, they adore each other, and have this weird sense where they can automatically tell what the other person needs without even asking.
In Transfiguration, Headmistress Mcgonagall reminds us that we need to start thinking about careers after Hogwarts, us now being 6th years and all that. I know that my brain thrives off of learning, and being academic, as keen as that sounds, so I think I'll go into researching soulmates further.
My Mum always says that if you love your job, you'll never work a hard day in your life, and I want that to happen for me.
My day goes from fine, to great, to bad, and then to even worse.
James is pissed that I can't fit an extra Quidditch practise in due to my detention, threatening to write to my parents if my so-called "bad behaviour" continues to have an impact on my Quidditch career, to which I just childishly tell him to fuck off.
I mean, who is James Potter to tell me to improve my behaviour? Threatening to write to my parents is something I would've expected from my older cousin Molly Weasley, who, once sent me a Howler when she found out I'd copied Al's homework for History of Magic. Like I said, History of Magic was my worst subject, and the most tedious, when Al offered to show my his notes I couldn't refuse the opportunity to use his notes so I could spend more time playing Quidditch Chess.
Cold air runs down my spine as I slowly walk down to the dungeons, dragging my feet, trying to prolong the journey down there. Darkness hangs over the corridor, interrupted by small pockets of flickering flames. The mood in the dungeons has always seemed bitter, it's as if you can smell dark magic. And no, I don't mean that because the Slytherin common room is down here, I'm not that prejudiced, but it is just a creepy place to be.
My thoughts turn to Malfoy. How am I supposed to face him off the backs of that huge argument Al has had with Nott? Is he going to say anything, not even just about their fight, but about Anto asking me out? No doubt he has a bank of snarky comments saved up, prepared to haul at me from the second I step foot into the dingy classroom.
Do I bring it up? Broach the subject before he decides to do so? Would that make it more awkward, or, even worse, make it seem like I actually want to talk to him?
No. I won't say anything. It'll be worse, I'm sure of it. I don't know why, but I have this feeling that if I start to speak, I'll regret it.
One hour into scrubbing the floor, and the long silence has not been broken, except for the sounds of soapy water slopping around. From time to time, I steal sneaky glances at Malfoy, trying to work out what he's thinking. He is concentrating hard, eyebrows furrowed, eyes dark and stormy. It looks like his brain is about to explode from all the thoughts swimming about.
I think I'm being subtle, looking over maybe every 15 minutes, but clearly spy life isn't for me.
"Careful Red. You keep looking over here and I might think you're in love with me."
He's smirking his signature Malfoy smirk, eyes now calmer, eyebrows more relaxed. I can tell he's trying to get a rise out of me, and sometimes I try not to give in, but today I give him what he wants.
"And what would you know about love Malfoy?", I quip.
It was harsh, and snappy, and overall a bit random, but I say it anyway. Perhaps it's my anger over Al's situation with Nott, but I know it's unfair on Malfoy all the same, all he had to do today was open his mouth, and I felt the familiar sensation of rage washing over me.
Surprisingly, he responds calmly, giving me a wary look, as if I'm about to burst into flames.
"I take it you're still angry over what happened yesterday then Red.", he mutters, staring at me intensely.
My stomach turns into knots, I know what effect he can have on me, and just pray that my body doesn't betray myself tonight.
"Of course I'm still angry, feelings don't just switch off like that Malfoy."
"Surely he must have known something was going on. It was obvious to everyone around us."
"Oh well that's just great then Malfoy. Problem solved. Everyone could see it so Al shouldn't be upset.", I snarl, pushing myself off of the floor and stalking away to the cupboard, ready to pick up a batch of dirty cauldrons to clean.
"That's not what I meant Red, and you know it.", Malfoy retorts calmly, also standing. Despite his cool persona, his voice has a slight edge to it, as if his mood could switch at any moment.
Silence follows, as well as growing tension. The air is thick and heavy, weighing me down. I suddenly feel the urge to cry. What is up with my emotions today? One minute they're up, and the next they're down, there is no other way to describe them then as a rollercoaster.
"I just meant", he starts, snapping me out of my daydreaming, "that I didn't realise how much he liked her."
He gives me a look that I can't read, standing awkwardly, the distance between us suddenly making me feel claustrophobic. He can't seem to work out what he wants to do with his hands, but decides on leaving them hanging by his side. A pang of regret at my harsh, unexpected words stings me, and it should stop me from carrying on, but instead it spurs me on even more.
"Of course you didn't realise how much he liked her, you're incapable of knowing what it is to like someone. You just want to shag girls and talk about it. You don't think about the feelings and emotions underneath, to you girls are just a pretty face and a pair of tits."
I'm ranting now, and my voice is hoarse. I sound tired, and upset, and that's pretty much what I am. I go to continue, but he cuts me off -
"Why do you keep saying that? You keep saying that I don't know how to love, but you don't know a fucking thing about me Weasley!"
He's shouting back at me, matching my volume, pacing up and down the room, coming straight up to my face, so our noses are touching, before storming away.
"If you're such an expert in love and relationships then Malfoy, why do you use girls as you do huh? Why do you lead Belle on then, fucking her and then not talking to her for a week, knowing she would be back in the arms the minute you asked?"
I don't know how I find myself defending Belle, but it's true, I don't respect the way he treats her. I continue my tirade, getting angrier by the second.
"Why don't you find yourself a proper girlfriend, instead of wasting your time shagging half the female population?"
"Oh silly me how could I forget, Rose Weasley bagged herself a date and now thinks she is a relationship guru. I wouldn't sit on your high horse Red, he'll just want to get in your pants anyway".
"Fuck off Malfoy, he's nice, and friendly to me. Which is more than can be said for the way you treat your girls."
"My girls? If I didn't know any better Weasley, I'd think you were jealous."
"Don't fucking start Malfoy -"
"Jealous, because I haven't chosen you to fuck. Because you hear about my talents every single night and are jealous that I haven't given you a go."
"Given me a go? Am I a fucking toy Malfoy? God! This is why I can't stand you", I throw my hands up in the air, gesturing wildly, "You think it's okay to pick people up and drop them whenever you like, as if people are disposable".
We're both screaming at each other now, glaring, trying to murder each other with our eyes. My head is pounding, face is bright red and hands are shaking.
"Is that all you see me as Malfoy? An object, someone who will let you get your dick wet?"
"So you admit it then Red, that you would let me have my way with you."
SLAP.
I hit him, straight across the face. The echo of my hand hitting his cheek ripples throughout the dungeons.
I thought it would make me feel better, but it doesn't. My chest is heaving, I take short ragged breaths, trying to get my breathing under control.
Malfoy is turned away from me. I feel completely out of my depths. He turns back to me, rage evident in his eyes, sweat dampning his hairline, and is breathing just as heavily as I am.
He then speaks, in a low, furious tone, that I've never heard before.
"Forget it Weasley. It'd be a cold day in hell before that ever happened".
Snarling, he turns away, kicking the pile of cauldrons to my left. A deafening noise fills the empty space as they clatter to the floor, masking the sound of his footsteps stomping away. I'm alone, left with only my thoughts, of what the hell just went on.
My anger doesn't dissipate until well into the next morning. My sleep was, again, broken, but this time not due to the rage in the sky, but the rage in my blood. Even meeting Evelyna and Alice didn't seem to calm me down, which normally works like a charm.
I skip Potions this afternoon, asking Al to tell Slughorn that I'm sick, which is partially true. Sick of detentions with Malfoy, sick of sleeping poorly, sick of bad weather, sick of everyone's drama. I try to take a nap, but can't seem to switch off my mind.
The only thing I seem tempted to do, is take out the letter from Mrs Malfoy. I don't know what possesses me to do so, but it just feels right. Unlocking the cabinet under my bedside table, I rummage through the loose sheets of parchment, before finding the one with the loopy handwriting.
To my surprise, there is now a seal on the back, perfectly in place, as if it has always been there. Trying to overcome my astonishment, I break the wax, a deep emerald green with the Malfoy crest embossed.
Big letters scrawled across the page catch my attention. I begin to read, and find I can only get so far.
"Dear Rose,
You are the only one able to see this letter, and what I'm writing, and for good reason too. It might not be clear now, but I hope one day you'll look back and thank me, even if this seems so out of character. I had to charm this letter so only you could read it, I know from the moment I give this to Scorpius he will try to break into it, no matter how many times I'll tell him not to. Whatever you see appearing here, is what you most need at the time. I know my Scorpius can be a bit of a handful to say the least, and, as his mother, I like to think that I know him best. You're probably very confused reading this, and naturally I understand, but so will you in due course. I have a feeling you and my son will be connected at one point or another, despite the fact that right now you seem to be the deepest of enemies.
As this writing has appeared to you today, you must have argued with my son. I know he has a temper, and can be volatile and nasty, but I also know that he has a heart, deep down, even if it's not always obvious.
For now, I cannot help you much further than this. These are the only answers you need today.
Good luck Rose Weasley, with my son, you're bound to need it".
Cliffhanger… I hope this chapter has made up for the later upload. I will upload tomorrow (Sunday 23rd May). Please review if you're enjoying it! p.s:
Primary School is, I think, the equivalent to Elementary School? You go to Primary School in the UK between the ages of 4 and 11.
Pants: English word for underwear, not like trousers.