Not a Pretty Sight

by baaahumbug

To her, it was a pretty ring. To him, it was his mother's. To the laws of soulmates, it was everything. Unaware of the laws of soulmates, Rose puts on the ring only to find she cannot take it off without having found her soulmate. Will she find him, or more importantly, does he want to be found? An enemies to lovers tale of heartbreak, confusion, and love. Rated M for safety.

15. Expect The Unexpected

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, nor do I own Harry Potter. All ideas are my own.

Pungent smells of antiseptic cleansing potion are all I can smell when I finally come round.

My body is the first thing that wakes up, swamped in thick cotton, itchy cotton, the type that you try to avoid at all costs.

Then my face follows. Now that the shock has worn off, I can finally feel the extent of my injuries. God, my nose fucking hurts.

Funnily enough, the only experience I can compare it to is taking a bludger to the face. It's as if I've been smacking my head relentlessly against concrete, only stopping once my vision has gone blurry.

Fuzziness is the only thing I feel in my brain though, it feels empty, as if I'm missing something. It wouldn't surprise me if I have some form of concussion, I just wonder how long I've been here.

Pain. Intense pain like I've never known before, comes in waves and spurts, making my eyes water and wince. The bulk of the pain is around my nose and eyebrows, which is, unsurprisingly, where I took the brunt of the hit.

It's weird though, when I was hit yesterday, or whenever it was, I have no idea what day it is, I actually didn't feel the impact of the bludger making friends with my facial features. It must have been the adrenaline and shock of the situation, but I honestly felt nothing.

Now, however, I'm feeling everything, and I wish I wasn't, as everything fucking hurts.

Faint sunlight trickles in through the windows of the Hospital Wing, it's dawn then, that much is clear.

I've never been so relieved to see the gentle signs that the sun is waking up for the day, and it's only because it should mean that I'm alone. I'm guessing it's about 5:30 in the morning, which is out of visiting hours.

I've learned though, with my family, to expect the unexpected.

Knowing them, they probably fought tooth and nail to try and get in here, so I'm surprised none of them are here now.

A red and gold Quidditch jersey hangs over the chair in my room, an indication that people have been here, as I gather, from the fact that it isn't blood-stained, that it isn't mine.

God, I've probably been in here longer than I thought.

Right now I need peace, as I'm starting to feel quite queasy and, no offence to my family, I love them dearly, I just don't think the Weasley-Potter clan would make me any better right now.

That's always a good sign, feeling sick after a head injury.

I try to sit up, slowly gaining feeling back in my limbs, but when I go to push myself up, I just collapse back onto the bed, sinking into the mattress.

Accepting my fate, I am defeated, stuck to my pillow, in the cold, frosty sunlight of the Infirmary.

As I'm laying here, all I can think about is the match.

Weirdly enough, the first question that comes to me is, did we win?, which I know is stupid given that I'm trapped in the Hospital Wing with god knows how many injuries.

If we won though, it will have all been worth it. I'd love to see the look on Nott's face when he realises that hitting the bludger at me still didn't mean that they won. That they lost just as we had expected them to, despite knocking out one of the chasers.

I stop for a second. I don't know how I've come to the conclusion that it's Nott who hit me, and is the blatant cause of my current situation, but I just do.

To me it's logical, he glared at me while clubbing his hand with the bat, his eyes practically declaring war on me, and throughout the entire game (or the 30 minutes that I played), I was dodging his hits left, right, and centre.

I didn't actually see Malfoy, the other Slytherin beater, in the air for the majority of the match, so unless he just completely came out of the blue, which I wouldn't put past him, it seems obvious that Nott was the one to take the final blow.

And besides, we've never been on the best of terms, and with everything that's happened with Al and Eliza in the past month, him pinning me up a wall, and fighting with James, it makes sense that Nott did it.

If he thinks he's getting away with it though, he is sorely mistaken.

My attentions then turn to what day it is, and how long I've been in here.

I'm guessing two days tops, maybe 3 at a push, as surely they'd wake me up as soon as possible to check if anything is really serious, but when I am interrupted from these thoughts by my parents bursting in through the hospital door, I know it's bad.

But before they enter, out of the corner of my vision, something black catches my eye.

My eyesight can't be entirely trusted, it is still blurry from lack of sleep, but it seems to be small, enclosed, and cube-like.

As I'm frantically trying to detangle myself from my bedsheets, hoping I will be able to walk well enough to pick it up, I'm stopped by my mother.

It was risky, I know, to try and make it in time without being caught out of bed before they came in, knowing that if my mother caught me she would have a fit, but I tried it anyway, and failed.

"Madam Pomfrey, you know I have the utmost respect for you,", my mother's shrill voice announces, echoing off the marble walls, "but this is my daughter we're talking about, and I, as her mother, know what's best for her, and right now she needs me."

You can tell my mum works in the Ministry, the way she strings sentences together to verbally attack someone and manage to get her way. She would have never managed to get rights for House Elves if it weren't for the fact that she is a menace in the courtroom.

"'Mione love, she will be fine, she's a fighter. And Madam Pomfrey is the best medi-witch we know, if she can't help Rose then no one can"

I bet that said medi-witch is feeling rather relieved right now that my dad is also here to try and diffuse the situation.

For all his hot-headedness and short fuse (which I've seemed to inherited), my dad is great in situations like these. He has this ability to calm my mum down, which many don't expect from him.

He's the ice to her fire, the chalk to her cheese, the peanut butter to her jam.

I remember saying that when I went back home for Christmas, I would have to ask my parents if they were soulmates, but now this seems silly, I can clearly see that they are, I can even hear it, it couldn't be more obvious if it tried.

"Oh my darling girl,", my mum bursts into the room, "Whatever happened to you?"

She grabs me, to which I yelp, but she ignores it and starts stroking my hair, clutching my face to examine the damage.

Although I haven't looked at myself yet, I can feel the bruises staining my skin. And judging by Mum's reaction, it is bad.

Sure enough, when she hands me the mirror, I look like shit.

An array of blues, indigos, and yellows smatter across my face, painting the most disgusting and foully coloured picture, one that I would surely never buy.

The worst of it is around my eyes, I look gaunt, and sunken in, the purple has accentuated the dark circles underneath my lower lashes, making me appear sallow and haunted.

There is no other word for it, I look like shit, I feel like shit, and this entire situation is just pure shit.

"I don't know Mum. I can't really remember. One minute I was fine, and the next I'm smacked in the face by a bludger"

"Don't worry Rosie, we'll find out who did this", my Dad reassures me, hugging me gently, clearly realising that I'm in pain.

You'd expect Mum to be more tactful than Dad, and I suppose she is sometimes, it just depends on the situation.

I can almost guarantee that Dad will make a stupid or embarrassing comment at a family event, exposing a deep buried secret of mine, and that Mum would never dream of doing such a thing, but then in moments like these Mum throws caution to the wind and completely forgets her surroundings.

It's probably because Dad plays Quidditch and knows the game, having seen the extent of injuries first-hand, like when he watched Uncle Harry be thrown off his broom in 3rd year too.

For this reason, he knows to be more careful with me, as if I'm broken china that needs repairing, as he can relate to me.

"It's fine Dad, really. I mean obviously I'm not fine, but it's Quidditch, it's all part of the game. I'd be stupid to expect that I could make it through Hogwarts safe from a disaster on the pitch at some point", I say, tiredness evident in my voice.

And really it is, fine.

I mean if Nott had killed me, or seriously injured me, we'd be talking about a completely different scenario. But I'm alive, and safe, just bruised and sore. Quidditch demands injuries sometimes, and unfortunately I was the one to take one this time round.

"I know Rosie, you're a lil trooper. I just hate to think about how much pain you're in"

"Really Dad, like I heard you say, I'm in the best place for me. With some bruise paste and pain relief potions I'll be back to normal in no time. I'm sure I'll be back to lessons on Monday"

"Oh Rosie, you've already missed them,", my Mum interrupts, "It's Tuesday darling, almost a week later. We wanted to wake you up but you were clearly really sleepy, and well, when you've woken up before you've been too drugged up to make any sense."

She tells me all this in a very nonchalant manner, as if it's no big deal that I've almost been out for a week.

WHAT? This isn't the first time I've been awake, and I've been gone for nearly a week?

Blimey, I didn't realise it was this bad. What have I missed? What about Slughorn's detentions?

"Don't worry though Rose, you've been excused from lessons and Slughorn told me not to worry about those detentions. He said they were nearly over anyway and the Potions classroom is now clean enough", she says, as if reading my mind, "Which reminds me young lady, just what were those about?"

Yep, my Mum is back to normal. The fussing maternal act has now been dropped now she's realised I am in fact okay.

Brilliant. A splitting headache which will only be made worse by my telling off. God, I wish I didn't wake up.

---

Mum doesn't berate me too much, which I'm very thankful for, it's the last thing I need right now.

Her and Dad leave at about 11am, which, seeing that they arrived at about 6am, is fine by me, as I'm shattered.

I sleep for another 5 hours, well, I say sleep, it is very much broken.

I spend most of my time tossing and turning, occasionally woken by a crying first year or my bruises.

When I'm finally up, and properly up, I'm visited by numerous other people.

Alice and Evelyna rush in to make sure that I'm okay, forgetting also like my Mum did that I'm currently in a fragile state, and not 100% for hugs and cuddles.

Showering me in kisses and affection, they bring my favourite cauldron cakes which we snack on while they catch me up on what's new.

Nothing much has really changed, apart from the fallout after my quite literal fall through the air.

I learn that Slytherin did win the match, and it was James who actually saved me from my fall.

In speeding down to save me and catch me in his arms, with the help of a cushioning charm cast by Alice from the crowd to help my landing, it gave Harri all the opportunity to fly about and look for the snitch.

Which he then caught, giving Slytherin a lead of 170-70. Just excellent. Now I don't have to just face the wounds from my fall, but also the wounds to my heart and ego now that we've lost.

I never understand why Hogwarts just allow a Quidditch game to continue, even when someone is in danger. Like I was plummeting through the air, with no support around me, and instead of their first thought being oh, should probably help Rose, instead they let the game carry on playing.

It's an unfair win for Slytherin, winning on chance because the other seeker is compassionate enough to not let their teammate die mid-air, but a win all the same.

This also means that I have to give Anto another chance, which I promised I would if Gryffindor lost.

The girls continue to fill me in on more details of the match, but I don't really listen to them, my head flittering with the realisation that now I actually have to give mine and Anto's relationship a go.

I know I didn't make this promise aloud, so could probably get away with not doing so, but I'm a woman of my word, and wouldn't have a clear moral conscience if I didn't stick by what I originally said.

And anyway, he is really sweet, and is trying, making a lot of effort, that cannot be denied.

After Alice and Evelyna left, Anto crept in quietly, trying to be as silent as possible as he thought I was asleep.

I'm slightly annoyed when they leave, because as soon as they do I remember all about Alice and Al, and realise I didn't have the chance to investigate. I'll make sure to do it next time, I remind myself for the 10th time.

"Blimey Rose, I've been worried sick", Anto says, snapping me out of my thoughts, perching on the end of my bed and handing me a bunch of red roses.

I take them from him, taking a deep breath in, getting lost in the smell of the rosy petals. Not that I can smell anything of course, my nose is blocked from dried blood. How pleasant.

I set them on the side, finally finding my wand and conjuring some water for them, placing them in the glass next to me.

He's not to know that roses are my least favourite flowers, I've never told him, so why would he know that I despise them?

I just find them so cliché. Not only for what they represent, blossoming love and romance, but seeing as I am literally named after them, I just think it's a bit cringe when I'm given them.

A rose for Rose, how original.

My favourite flowers are daffodils, due to their vibrant yellow which chases away a rainy day. They bloom in Spring, a fresh start and new beginnings, and were also my Opa's favourite flowers. I don't know, they just make me feel happy when I look at them, which is why I like to have them around me.

Maybe I'll transfigure the roses into daffodils after he's gone, is that really evil of me?

"I'll be okay Anto", I answer softly, "Really, I will", giving him a gentle smile.

"I wanted to kill Malfoy after I found out what happened. Trust me Rose, I tried to look for him, but he's been no where to be found. I'm hoping he's been expelled", he starts to waffle.

"Although I did see him loitering around the waiting area", he continues, "I assumed he was looking for you, probably to try and manipulate the situation to make it appear as your fault, so I told him to fuck off, and that you want nothing to do with him. He squared up to me of course, and for a second I thought we were about to fight, but then Mcgonagall got in the way and told me to back down. I'm glad she did though, otherwise he would've ended up in here with you after I'd dealt with him"

I've never seen this side to Anto before, and I'm not sure if I really like it. A contemptuous tone stains his voice, he's practically spitting out every single word. Beads of sweat trickle down his forehead and his hands are clenched into fists, which he squeezes so tightly that his knuckles go white.

It takes a while for the gravity of his words to sink in.

One, why was he getting involved, I'm not his girlfriend and can fight my own battles, and two, why was Malfoy here and why is he getting the blame? I'm sure it was Nott who tried to knock me out, he is the most violent out of the pair, Malfoy just stings with his words.

No matter how much me and Malfoy despise each other, I'd never expect him to stoop this low.

"No Anto, you've got it all wrong. Nott was the one who hit the bludger, not Malfoy."

"But Rose,", he interjects, stress evident in his voice, "You don't-"

"Look Anto, I'm tired, please can we just talk another time?", I smile at him half-heartedly.

I can tell he's disappointed, and know he has the best intentions, but right now I just want him to leave me alone.

"Sure Rose, come find me when you're out yeah?"

I nod slowly, careful to not worsen my headache further, but don't make any verbal promises.

As he leaves, he kisses the top of my head softly, caressing the hair behind my ear.

I don't realise I've done this until it's happened, but I flinch, causing him to step away suddenly, confusion appearing on his face.

He goes to open his mouth, as if to say something, but is interrupted by Al and James walking into the room.

Instead he grins at my two cousins, even if his grin doesn't meet his eyes, and steps out of the room, waving at me before he goes.

"Trouble in paradise hey Rosie?", James says, ruffling my hair.

"For there to be trouble in paradise there has to be paradise to begin with Jamie,", I reply, "We're not together and you damn well know that."

"I know Rosie-posie, only teasing ya. How are you? I can't be long as I'm meeting Ciara, but wanted to check in on how you're doing."

It's times like these where I really appreciate my cousins. My hospital room has been busy all day with various family members, such as Dom, Rox, Lucy, Lily etc.

Hugo popped up earlier while our parents were here which was nice, meaning that we in fact didn't have to write to them and could fill them in on everything in person.

It's rare that we ever see Mum or Dad during school time, except for family emergencies, so briefly seeing them before Christmas was a bonus.

I didn't dare bring up Anto to them, although I saw Hugo look at me pointedly when Dad asked if romance was on the cards for me. But like I said, if I haven't even made up my mind, there is no point projecting our budding relationship onto other people.

"I'm fine", which is something I feel like I've said about 50 times today, "I heard what you did. Thank you for saving me"

James and I are never sentimental with each other, so I make the most of this time while I can.

He's normally joking around, having fun, never being serious like he is here, so when I see this side to him, it really sticks with me.

It actually makes me feel more unnerved if anything. Fred and him are always people I can count on to alleviate the seriousness of a situation, so when they're solemn, then you know it's bad. It makes me stomach turn, a sinking feeling settles in the bottom of it, the feeling you get when you're expecting bad news.

"Of course Rosie, I'm not just gonna watch my favourite cousin fall through the sky and not do anything about it, even if it has cost us a win. Although I do expect Aunt 'Mione and Uncle Ron to pay for my Auror tuition now", he replies, winking at me.

And there we go. The severity of the situation suddenly seems so much less, and the humour is back, the James I know is back.

Smiling, I go to reply, but he cuts me off.

"Right, I really do have to go. I was only coming up here to check you're good, and to set your mind at ease. I know you'll have been panicking that I was mad at you for falling"

To be truthful, the thought hasn't crossed my mind too much, as I've had other, more pressing scenarios to deal with, like the fact that Nott clearly wanted me to fall, not just drop the Quaffle, but I'm comforted that he's put my mind to rest all the same. He knows I can be a stress-head at the best of times, let alone in a scenario such as this.

Another thing I love about James is, that for all his good humour, he is really thoughtful. Like Lily, he thinks of stuff before you do, and yes he tries to play it off by saying it's because we're family or because we play on the same Quidditch team, but I know he's doing so because he means it.

Ruffling my hair again, he stands, causing my mattress to spring up from the place where he'd been sitting.

"Ah before I go, here Rosie,"

He bends down and chucks me the black box that caught my attention earlier.

"It's been hanging around here for the past 2 days, we've all tried to open it but can't manage it, whatever is in there doesn't want to be found"

I mumble a thanks and pocket the box, not wanting to open it in front of the boys.

For all I know it could be some present that Anto has got me, and I'm not about to literally hand over joke material to my cousins, they'd be relentless.

His slam of the door turns my attention to Al, who is in the corner, giving me a pitying smile.

"Wipe that pity off of your face right now Albus Severus Potter. I know you're secretly here to gloat about the fact that you won and we lost", I giggle, throwing a cushion at him from behind my back.

"Don't you worry Rose, we did enough boasting while you were out cold, it wouldn't be fair to do so while you're awake."

"I'll allow you 2 minutes to gloat if you want Al, but I still believe that if Nott hadn't knocked me off then we would've won. He was playing dirty"

The same confused look that Anto had glazes over in Al's eyes.

"Rosie come on, we were starting to thrash you anyway, you wouldn't have stood a chance!", he says playfully, now sat at the end of my bed, sprawled out like a cat.

"Yes I understand Al but if Nott hadn't knocked me off my broom I wouldn't be here right now, lying in a hospital bed", I retort, smacking his leg, not too hard, but hard enough that he flinches.

"Rosie, I don't know why you keep saying that it was Nott who hit the bludger? We never even told you who it was?", Al replies, a questioning tone in his voice.

The bewildered look continues to gleam in his eyes, one which I don't understand for a second.

Until it dawns on me.

All I was told about the match, apart from the fact that James saved me and Slytherin won, was that whoever hit me wanted to do it badly, as the bludger came flying towards me with purpose, as if it was meant for my face.

But then I remember something from earlier, something Alice and Evelyna explained but I didn't really listen to. Only now is it beginning to make sense.

Nott had whacked Lucas with his bat at the same time I took the hit and fell, which pushed Lucas through the hoop, causing Gryffindor to get another penalty.

Which only means that, if it wasn't Nott who hit me, it must have been Malfoy.

That's why Malfoy was loitering around in the reception area, that's why Anto brought him up earlier! Anto was completely right and I just dismissed him!

I was so desperate to believe that Malfoy wouldn't do something like this to me that I was prepared to ignore all the evidence staring me in the face.

My head is fuzzy, white noises fills my ears again, and it sounds as if I'm underwater.

Al is speaking to me, but I can't hear a word, he is drowned out by my realisation that all is not as it seemed.

I stand, wobbly and fragile, but still manage to, which clears my hearing, I get the crackling sensation of water running out of your ears after they've been blocked from swimming.

Al asks me if I'm okay, and if I really want to be standing, but I take no notice of him.

The soles of my feet come into contact with the cold stone floor, sending shivers up my spine.

Before I can go to take a step, I immediately realise that this is a bad idea, and go to sit down, breathless from my brief journey.

Instead I ask Al to run out and quickly grab the visitors book, not explaining why, but just telling him that it's vital that he does so.

His mood has changed, he seems worried almost, as if I've suddenly gone crazy right before his eyes, but he knows not to question it.

He's gone for about 30 seconds, and I can hear his footsteps pattering in the distance.

Creaking the door open, he comes back in as quickly as he left, and hands me the black, leather book, bound shut by thick rope.

And sure enough, when I unravel the tie and open the pages, flicking to patient "Rose Weasley", I see the inky-black scrawl of Malfoy under visitors, dated from 2 days ago.

Clearing his conscience I presume, that must be it. He'll only be doing all of this to save face, he's not actually bothered about my well-being.

Anger boils up inside me, suddenly hitting me all at once.

I feel a rage like no other, it threatens to explode.

It's one thing to believe that it's Nott who's taken me out, but another to know that it's Malfoy who's responsible for my current situation.

Cold-hearted, smirking, ferret-like Malfoy, who's already been the root of so many of my recent problems.

If this was his attempt at getting my attention, so I'd break my silent treatment, then well done, congratulations Malfoy, you managed it.

But if he thinks I'm about to tell him about the letter, then oh no, he's sorely mistaken.

Let me tell you, that when I get my hands on him, it will not be a pretty sight.

---

Evening falls, and Madam Pomfrey comes in with a fresh batch of pain relief potions.

I ask her for a sleeping draught, as I have a funny feeling I won't be sleeping much tonight, which she hands to me, letting me know that I should be fit to leave tomorrow evening.

I can't stomach the soup tonight, despite it's watery and liquid texture. I'm already full on all the information I've been fed today, my head is swimming and my eyes drooping, a tell-tell sign that I'm about to nod off for the day.

As I roll onto my side, tucking myself into bed, I'm stopped from getting comfortable by the object that I pocketed earlier.

So I sit up, take out the velvety box, and just stare at it for a second.

It's a deep black, pitch black almost, obsidian. A gold clasp adorns the lid, but apart from that it is plain.

I feel stupid for trying to open it, as James said it's impossible, but do so anyway.

When I take the cube in one hand, holding the top with the other, and it opens first time, I am stumped.

It seems as if it was always meant to do that, it was just easy and simple. I faced no struggle, no resistance, no opposition like James and the others did. It opened for me, just like that, a simple click and that's all it took.

Moonlight filters in through the stained-glass window, and a deep emerald ring is illuminated, set in a platinum band, surrounded by 12 sparkling diamonds.

It feels familiar, like I've seen it before, but I can't place where or why I know this ring.

And so I do the only thing that makes sense to me. I put it on.

And so it begins, Rose has put the ring on. Next update tomorrow... Please review if you're enjoying :)