Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, nor do I own Harry Potter. All ideas are my own.
Suddenly it's Saturday again, and I'm reminded by Lily storming into my dorm and shaking me brutally that I promised to go to Hogsmeade with her this weekend.
The date of the ball is slowly creeping round the corner, and will be here before I know it, so I am grateful of Lily's desperation to go dress shopping with me. If it weren't for her, I don't know what I'd do.
Actually, that's a lie, I know exactly what I'd do. I'd spend the evening locked up in my room, dressed in sweats, enraptured in a good book. That sounds like my idea of heaven.
But unfortunately for me, that's not the way it's going to be, and with a cousin as persistent as Lily, I have no chances of escaping her clutches.
I ask her to give me 10 minutes to get ready, so I can quickly throw something on and make myself look at least half-decent.
All I receive in response is a withering look, as for her getting ready in 10 minutes would be an absolute disaster.
I remember one time, a couple of years ago, so Lily must have barely been 11, we came round the Potters early to go to the beach, and Hugo was tasked with getting Lily up and out of bed.
In the end, he returned with green hair, and our parents decided to go on without us as we'd already been waiting 30 minutes. Needless to say, I will never underestimate how long it takes Lily to get ready, ever again.
Opting for comfort rather than fashion, I chuck on my classic Dr Martens with a beige knitted jumper, and flared black jeans.
Plain and simple, but that's all I need, there is no real desire for me to dress up fancy, seeing as I'm only meeting my cousins.
Besides, the relentless November climate has comfortably made its bed, and intends to lie in it for as long as possible. Severe and stormy, anyone would be stupid to wear anything but 3 layers out.
Before I leave, I remember to grab my fluffy gloves and scarf, as I'm not making the same mistake of being caught out again.
However, putting on my gloves only draws attention to my hand, and before I can try and distract her, Lily has grabbed my middle finger.
"Oh Rosie, this is just beautiful! Anto gave it to you, didn't he! Oh I knew you guys would be perfect together"
Flabbergasted, but also slightly relieved that Lily has, unbeknownst to her, handed me the perfect excuse, I just nod my head in response, the bright blush that floods my cheeks answering for me.
I'm lucky that no one has noticed it so far to be honest, a huge rock lying on my hand, but it was only a matter of time before someone did.
Another problem that the ring has provided is that I don't have any excuse of why I have it. Lily has decided for me that Anto gave it to me, which will be sorely misproven when I eventually end things with him, and bar him I don't have any other reason as to why I'm suddenly wearing an expensive emerald.
As much as I try, time has proven that I am terrible at lying, and this is one I can't exactly get out of, god I can't even get the damn thing off.
It's not so much my friends that I'm worried about, but more my Mum and Dad. Mum is so eagle-eyed that she will spot it before I even begin to say hello.
I just hope that by Christmas, I'll have managed to get it off, as gloves have proven to only draw more attention to it, and the concealment charm I tried to put it under the other day was as successful as a chocolate teapot.
Like when I tried to use bruise paste to get it off, and the band only absorbed it, it's like the thing wants to be worn, and not hidden. Instead it's hiding in plain sight, waiting to be found, I'm just lucky that Lily is the one to have seen it first.
Speaking of, the devil in question pulls me into a hug, and gives me a huge toothy grin, telling me once more how happy she is for me.
A mixture of feelings cook up inside me and threaten to boil over, but I suppress them, and we leave my dorm, practically bounding down the stairs.
In the courtyard, we meet Dom, Lucy and Rox, who are all stood leaning up against the concrete pillars, chatting away contentedly.
Steam encircles them, the siberian temperature evident, giving them dragon-breath, as my Mum calls it.
Of course, that's a Muggle term, the phrase for the steam that leaves your mouth when it's like the arctic outside, making you look like a fire-breathing dragon. Obviously it's not fire, if anything it highlights how arctic the atmosphere around us is.
Once Mum said it round the family, on a particularly bitter day, but soon realised that we don't say that in the Wizarding World, and the phrase really doesn't translate.
After she registered the fact that they thought she was horribly insulting them, she never made the mistake of saying it again.
I'll never forget the look on Louis's face when he thought Mum said he had smelly breath, he looked absolutely horrified, after all, he brushes his teeth about 5 times a day.
That's the Veela side of him emerging, he's very strict on what he wears and how he looks. There is no reason for him to worry, as he is Fleur in male form, but his fragile 14 year old ego only spurs on his vanity.
Speaking of Veela's, my eyes are captivated by Dom tossing her golden hair over her shoulder as she turns to look at us.
Unlike Victoire and Louis, who are the copycat of Fleur, Dom has far more Weasley in her.
Short golden hair, cropped and tousled with a fringe framing her eyes, she is the epitome of coolness.
Sparkling gilded earrings line her ear, and as it's the weekend she's removed the charm that normally disguises her nose piercing.
A tired leather jacket, one probably borrowed from her dad, adorns her figure, complete with blue mom jeans and a white turtle neck, a chunky gold necklace finishing her stylish look.
I can't help but think that she'll be cold, how mum like of me, but as she wraps me in a hug I can feel the effects of her warming charm.
Dom is everything you'd ever want to be. She's stunning, friendly, kind, gets good grades but is humble about them, and still has a fierce side to her which means no one ever dares to mess with her.
I wouldn't call it jealousy, no, that's the wrong word, it's more admiration.
I'm happy in myself, I completely am, no matter what other impression my inner voice gives,
Lucy hugs me next, dressed in a simple black knitted dress with sparkly tights, also in the midst of a warming charm,
God, sometimes I forget I'm a witch. Instead of needing all these layers, I could just think logically and remember that I can do magic.
I think it's because I'm so used to it, and it's all I've ever known, that I just forget that I can do simple things, if that makes sense.
Like because it is just so simple, it seems almost strange to me, and as it's me I have a way of making things so much more complicated.
It's always so much worse after I've been to see my Oma and Opa.
Well, it will just be my Oma now, but the principal is still the same.
Some things seem more practical when I do it the muggle way.
Rox is excitable, like a puppy or a child at Christmas, and promises that she has so much to tell me as she interlinks her sleeved arm in mine.
This promise, which I know won't be kept, sounds like it is boy talk, and my thoughts wander to a certain curly haired brunette with sharp olive eyes.
Unlike the others, she's opted for the traditional coat and scarf, so I don't feel as left out.
It's quite funny actually, Rox and I share the same dorm but we never really seem to see each other.
When she's there, I'm not, and vice versa, it's so hard for us to catch a moment alone together, I only ever hear her creep back from meeting whichever boy it is during the dead of night.
Don't get me wrong, she's my cousin and I love her, and we are close, but not in a close that I know everything about her life way.
But that's the way it should be, boundaries are so important, and if you share everything with everyone then you don't have any privacy. And who would want their entire life to be public knowledge?
Almost instantly, talk turns to which dresses we need.
As Rox, Lucy, Lily and I are all Gryffindor, we're stuck with red and gold colours, but Dom on the other hand, gets blue and bronze, being Ravenclaw.
Jealously doesn't even begin to describe my sentiments about that, I would do anything to dress in navy, it's my favourite colour.
But no, I'm stuck with gold and red, which both fail to flatter me in any sense of the word.
Brilliant, I don't want to go to the ball anyway, don't have a crush on my date who I'm currently going with, and don't like the colours I have to dress in.
Is this night going to be a complete and utter nightmare?
After the war, the Patil sisters set up a dress shop in Hogsmeade, which was another perfect addition as the quaint little town failed to have anything suitable for balls.
Now, every year around the time of the annual Christmas ball, crowds flock to their store, scrambling for the latest dress and design.
Fortunately for me, and to be fair my cousins too, none of us are THAT obsessed that we must be there at the opening hours, demanding we be let it so we can ravish the store.
Sure, Lily has her fashion-diva moments, as is very evident from the past and only earlier today she is the worst of us all, but on the whole, none of us are that bad.
Which is especially surprising seeing that 2 of my female cousins are part-Veela.
Well, that is a major stereotype, but partially true, and Louis is evidence enough for my justification.
Lines after lines of glittering material is all I can see, I feel like I'm a present being wrapped in an excessive amount of gift paper.
I know the day is going to be spent trying on dress after dress after dress, but from the look of these none of them are going to float my boat.
Choices of garish gold or ruby red? Nope, I'd much rather be muted and draw the least amount of attention to myself as possible.
I wish the theme wasn't house colours, how lame is that. It's alright for those who don't have flaming red hair, ghostly pale skin pigmented with a smatter of freckles, as they can at least find something half-decent to wear.
Like my cousins, they all seem to get lucky with their purchases.
Roxanne struts in, and within 5 seconds has found a perfect cherry red fan dress that flatters her curves and accentuates all the right places.
That colour, especially on her skin tone, is absolutely gorgeous, she looks like a model. Whoever she is currently chatting to, which I hope for her sake is Zabini, is a lucky guy.
Lily has instant luck as well, finding a sequined mermaid number which compliments her rich auburn hair.
As her hair is darker than mine, the gold really goes with her ginger tones.
With the choice of Gryffindor colours, I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Red on red is a disaster and the gold will only highlight my pale and freckly skin.
This dilemma is only heightened further when I see Dom in her deep as the night sky navy dress.
It has a cow neck, small straps, and her gold jewellery makes her look even more beautiful.
I would die to wear that and give her an envying look as she twirls and spins, pretending that she's a princess.
She decides against a long dress however, as it's really not her style, and asks if it can be altered.
As quick as flash, the length is taken up and hemmed, adding a slit down the side of the fabric so her long legs can make an appearance.
I feel so out of place amongst the beauty of my cousins, the ugly duck among the grand swans.
Lucy picks up my sentiments, the natural empath that she is, and hugs my shoulders, whispering in my ear, "Don't worry, we'll find something perfect for you Rosie"
She herself is in a muted red dress, a calmer colour than Rox's, but still fiery.
Even though I don't spend much time with Lucy, when I do I always love our time together. Like Alice, she is a kind and gentle soul, but Lucy's temperament is contrasted by a feisty personality which, if on the wrong side of her, can be terrifying.
Unlike Molly, her older sister by 4 years, Lucy understands that there is more to life than academics, and appreciates her social life, making time for people rather than homework.
Everyone wants to have a friend like Lucy.
Directing me towards the back of the shop, I see a simple, off the shoulder gown glinting in the winter sun.
Again, this is another one of those things that I feel magnetically drawn to.
"Oh Rosie, you just have to try this on!", Lily squeals, pushing me towards it.
And I do, and it's just perfect.
We pay for our goods, and leave hurriedly, as we're meeting Victoire soon after at the Three Broomsticks.
Anxiety flutters inside me for a second, as I don't know how many people Victoire has told about the pregnancy, but then I have to remind myself that she knows what she's doing: she wouldn't meet the girls if she didn't have the situation under control.
Sure enough, she does, she's bundled under thick coats and blankets like the last time I met her, but from the look that Dom gives me, I can tell she knows too.
I'm also slightly apprehensive about seeing Victoire as, although we didn't leave things on a bad note, as I assured her I wasn't angry, what she said has now kinda come true.
Not that I fancy Malfoy, but that something is missing with me and Anto. That I don't want to snog him senseless or pin him down and rip his clothes off. No, I'd much rather just play a friendly Quidditch match and agree to meet for a butterbeer in a group of people.
I'm not going to tell her about my newfound discovery of course, because I'm also not going to act on my attraction to Malfoy.
Hang on. I said I found Malfoy attractive. Not that I'm attracted to him.
Oh god Rose, who are you trying to kid, you are, and there is nothing you can do about it.
We chat absent-mildly about Hogwarts and the upcoming ball, nothing out of the ordinary, although I do notice Victoire's ears prick up when Dom starts talking about dates for the ball.
Attempting to avoid the conversation, I quickly rise and make my way to the toilets, declaring that "it's a female emergency".
It's not, but I haven't made my mind up on what I do about Anto, and I don't fancy being forced into this conversation right before I've even began thinking about the situation myself.
I know I need to end it before the ball, but I can't help but think that the time isn't right.
But when will the time ever be right? The ball is impending so if I put it off any sooner then I'm bound to come across even bitchier, and the entire situation will be even worse.
By the end of the weekend, I tell myself, you have to end it by the end of the weekend.
Washing my hands, I put my gloves back on, distracted for a second by the glinting ring sitting on my finger, and exit.
But I never make it out. At least not for a while anyway, as Victoire has followed me in, and trapped me in.
Her arm rests on the toilet door, acting as a helpful barrier, she wears a kind smile, and instantly pulls me into a hug.
"I missed you Rosie", she tells me, as my face is lost in the floral scent of her perfume.
"I know you told me not to worry but I feel so bad about how our last conversation was left. Especially when I then heard what happened to you! I wanted to come and see you, really I did, but flooing was making me nauseous and Apparation is frowned upon when you as late in as I am."
"Don't be silly Vic, I completely understand. I'm fine, really, I've just had a lot to think about"
Which is true, a lot has changed in my mind since I last saw her. Like being knocked off a broom by the guy I now fancy, for starters.
Taking a deep breath, I prepare to drop the bomb. A bomb that will have, no doubt, little to no impact as she saw this coming anyway.
"Don't say I told you so, but you were right. Anto and I have no passion, and it will be better off if I end it"
Unsurprisingly, she doesn't react, barely even flinches in fact. All she does is grasp my hand, looking at me with a stern, unbreakable gaze, which reassures me that it will all be okay.
"Rosie I never said you had to end it! I was just trying to work out if this is what you really want"
"Well whatever you said Vic, it got me thinking. And I'm glad you said what you did, it's nice to know that I'm not going completely crazy stuck alone with my thoughts"
I don't know whether what Vic said really did push me to my recent conclusions, or if she just opened my eyes to what was always obvious. Either way, I'm grateful for her support and her words of wisdom.
It's a scary thing, sometimes, being stuck with just yourself and the voice upstairs. People often say that their thoughts can be their worst enemy, and recently, I've really understood what they mean.
I'm not too bothered about what other people think of me, but more what I think of myself. If someone accuses me of doing something, which I know isn't true, and they don't want to believe it, then that's their loss. I'm not going to force them to listen to me, as long as I know the truth, and I'm sure in myself, then I'm okay.
"So have you worked out what you're going to do?", she asks, moving aside.
"I need to end it with him, that much is certain", I respond, hoisting myself up on the bathroom sink and swinging my legs, "It's unfair to keep it going any longer. But I agreed to be his ball date Vic! How do I let him down gently? It just can't be done without hurting his feelings."
She gives me a sympathetic look, clearly understanding my dire situation.
As she replies, her hands fall onto her stomach, cradling it gently.
Over time, I've noticed that whenever she helping me out in a tricky situation, or advising me with something, she rests her hands on her belly. Vic has always been maternal, and this small reminder, the small gesture of touching her stomach, says it all, and tells me what I need to do.
Life is too short to be wasted, new life comes quickly as the old fade away, and there is no point putting off my decision.
It's minor really, the entire thing, there are worst things that could happen.
"I say do it quickly Rosie. Rip the plaster off. It will be better that way"
"Okay Vic, I will, I promise", I smile, reassurance filling me to the brim that I'm doing the right thing.
Hugging her once more before we both make our way out to rejoin the group, I'm content in my knowledge that it will all be fine.
The afternoon is spent chatting and gossiping away, Butterbeers are slowly sipped, barely making their way through lips, competing with the endless stream of chatter.
Flames lick and turn in the fireplace, burning down gently into embers, a hearty glow protecting us all from the cold that threatens to invade from the outside.
As the evening draws in, with 4pm in November demanding the end of sunlight, we take our chatter back up to Hogwarts.
Hugging and waving goodbye to one another, we all go our separate ways, ironic seeing as half of us share a dorm.
Dom is off to the Ravenclaw common room, Lily and Lucy decide to return to Gryffindor's home, and Rox runs off as quickly as her legs will carry her.
She hasn't openly admitted it yet, which is a big thing for her, as normally we at least know the names of whichever boyfriend she has on the go, but I am 99.9% sure she is sneaking off to see Zabini.
She's only been crushing on him for half the year, and this time I think it's for real. I hope it is anyway, for Rox not to say anything, it will mean that she really likes him.
We meant to catch up earlier, and I know she said she had a lot to tell me, but with a crazy family as such is mine, I'm not surprised that we never got the chance.
Stillness and tranquility is all I can hear in the dark aisles of the Library.
Flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows along the rows and rows of leather-bound parchment and soft pattering of rain decorates the ornate windows, music to my ears.
Bar the few people sat on tables, pouring over texts and research, it is empty.
I'm slightly surprised actually, why would anyone choose to spend their Saturday night absorbed in piles of books and parchment?
It may sound hypocritical of me to say, shocking even, as I know that's exactly what I'm doing, and would love to do, but you can understand what I mean.
With the exception of those like me, everyone else will be out with their friends, socialising and getting together, trying to forget the hardships that the past week has just brought.
I've decided to come to the Library, reasoning that I'll get a head start on the research and my homework, so I'm not spending the entire weekend freaking and stressing out that I'm running out of time.
I don't fancy having a stress-induced breakdown in only November of my 6th year.
As I pull out one of the chairs, sitting at a round table closest to the windows, utter peace engulfs me.
I love the rain, it complete calms me down. It makes me feel cosy, wrapped up in a warm blanket, no matter how chilly or cold the drizzle may be.
I have a feeling that I'm not alone however, one feeling that disrupts my calm, prowling around me and skulking over.
Even though I know other people are here, whom I saw earlier as I entered through the great doors, I deliberately chose a corner that was unoccupied, so I could get on with my work.
"Seems like you've had the same idea as me Red,", a low drawl starts, intervening into my mental conversation.
Looking up, I'm met with Malfoy's piercing blue eyes, as if he is looking into my soul.
Yet instantly, I can tell that he's not here to annoy me, or anger me, or begin an eyes, for the first time ever, or at least in my direction, seem kind.
"Can I sit?"
Is this a trick question? Do I say yes? Or more realistically, should I say yes?
Go on Rose, why not, you know you want to.
So I nod, not too frantically so he thinks I'm really eager, but I shake my head just the right amount.
God, when have I ever been worried about shaking my head just the right amount?
As he pulls out a chair and settles down next to me, he opens his mouth again, ready to start a conversation.
Surprised. That's the only word I can use to describe this current situation.
Instead of having an internal battle with myself, of why he wants to sit next to me, why he's being nice, why we're suddenly acting like friends after having only one pleasant conversation, I just let it be.
"What are you working on?", he asks, as he unpacks books from his bag and places them on the table.
"I haven't decided yet. It's either Slughorn's homework, or research on the ring"
"I need to do Slughorn's homework too. I looked over it the other day but couldn't make sense of it".
He looks shifty for a second, as if he doesn't know where to look, but then continues nervously, "Maybe we could work on it together?"
"Sure. Why not", I answer, ignoring the fact that my heart skips a beat for a second.
I don't mean it as a question, so I'm hoping he doesn't take it as one, and luckily for me, his silence answers my worries that no, he hasn't taken it as me interrogating him.
And so we begin to work, reading and chatting about Golpalott's Third Law.
It's boring, of course, but not as boring as it would've been without Malfoy.
All is fine, until we both go to grab for the same book, and our hands brush over one another.
"I was just-" "No you can have it-" "-it's no problem really"
Our voices jumble together, awkwardly clashing.
As I meet his eyes, trying to hide my own awkward gaze through my lashes, he is slightly red again. A faint tint, which if you'd blink you'd miss, but it's there all the same.
"You can have it," I say, taking my hand off of it and pushing it towards him.
He thanks me in reply, and from then on we don't speak.
I steal glances at him over the course of the evening, he is calm and quiet, occasionally huffing when he comes across a particularly tricky problem.
Again I try to ignore the fluttery feeling that flies in, it's a fly that I want to swat.
And so we work, in peace, as the rain comes to a halt and the candlelight starts to dim, leaving just the two of us together, alone.
Or at least that's what I believe, until a heavy hand clamps on my shoulder and a grumble of "We need to talk" interrupts my thinking.
A sharp intake of breath from Malfoy's direction tells me that this situation isn't good, and as I turn I'm met with the stern visage of Anto, angry eyes flickering between me and Malfoy, and our cosy set up.
I could try to run, but what good would that do, I'm already caught up in the net of lies.
Again sorry for a later update, I am being so sporadic at the moment! I broke my hand on Monday, and have been in hospital since. I've had no time to write and it's hard to do so with a bandage on.
I am okay.
UPDATE: NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE UP TUESDAY 29TH JUNE
Thank you for all the kind reviews, please keep reviewing if you're enjoying!
I'm not going into detail about the dresses… you will just have to see when they finally get to the ball!
Also reminder that I go by the books, Ravenclaw colours are blue and bronze in the books, not blue and silver.
A plaster - a bandaid
PREVIEW OF NEXT CHAPTER:
"Don't even start Rose, I've seen the way you look at him. I've noticed it for a while"
"Wait- come on, it's not what you think."
"DON'T LIE TO ME!", he roars, his voice reaching a level I have never heard before, "DO YOU THINK I'M STUPID?"
He's closer now, right up in my face, a raging bull that's seen red, a bear that's been poked one too many times.
"You know what,", he spits aggressively, nostrils flaring, venom evident in his tone, "You two deserve each other"