"You ready, Rosie Posie?"
Rose sank lower into the backseat and glowered out of the window. "I told you not to call me that."
Gideon rolled his eyes at his twin as he took a long inhalation from his cigarette. "Sorry cool kid, older brother prerogative. We get to call you Rosie Posie, and then one day you get to organise our funeral and tell everyone we liked to urinate in the bath."
If she hadn't been in such a bad mood, she might have appreciated the joke, but as it was, she simply frowned even more. The cigarette smoke made the car fuggy, along with her head. She wanted to get out, but as soon as she did, she would have to make her way to the train, and that was not something she felt ready to face. Unfortunately, she did not exactly have a choice.
"Alright knobhead, out of the car."
"Knobhead!" she muttered indignantly, causing Fabian to smirk from behind the steering wheel as he removed the keys from the ignition.
"Well, you said you didn't like Posie, so I improvised."
With great reluctance (and now somewhat affront) Rose threw open the door, forgetting that she was stepping out into oncoming traffic. A black cab swerved and honked at her as she jumped and slammed the door in her fright. Her brothers winced at the noise.
"Godric, Rose!" said Gideon, sticking his head out of Fabian's window. "The hell do you think you're doing!"
"If you get yourself run over, I'm not scraping you off the road," the other twin added. Rose, rather than acknowledging either of them, muttered something to the tune of not that anyone would care if I did and moved around the back of the car to the boot. It was locked.
"I need the key!"
Through the rear window she watched Gideon flick his wand, and the latch popped open. She was sure that openly performing magic outside of King's Cross station was considered a bit problematic in most circles, but soon realised that her brother probably didn't give two rat spleens now the trace was off him. She opened the boot.
She remembered instantly that her trunk was too heavy for her to lift alone: "Can someone help me with this please!"
"Fat chance," came Fabian's charming response. He was too busy preening his porn star moustache in the rear-view mirror. It was Gideon who eventually caved, always the slightly more empathetic brother, though even he struggled with heaving her bag onto the pavement. When they were finally stood in relative safety, her brother gave her the most genuine look that he had all day.
"Are you sure you're alright with this?"
Rose shrugged. "What other option is there?"
"Drop out?"
At first she thought he was joking, but soon realised he was genuine. "And be a squib?"
"I mean Filch made a whole career out of it."
"No thank you."
He watched her thoughtfully, though she was careful not to meet his gaze. "And you're sure you don't want us to walk you to the station? I'm sure we could get Fabian to move his fat arse if we tried really hard."
"Only if you bought a winch with you."
"I heard that!"
Gideon and Rose smiled at each other conspiratorially, even if it was tentative. Eventually Rose looked at the floor again and shook her head.
"Nah, it's fine. You two aren't going to be with me in Hogwarts; better to just get on with it."
He looked as though he might argue with her, but then he decided against it. "Well. If you're sure."
He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze before bounding back to the front of the car. When he was in the seat, Rose gave the boot a pat to indicate they should set off. She could hear Fabian muttering, watch the paint work! as they drove off, though he tooted the horn loudly to show he wasn't really mad. As the car disappeared into the London traffic and then the distance, Rose wondered why she hadn't taken Gideon up on his offer. If she was honest with herself, she should have let Molly and Arthur take her instead – but they always acted like they were treading on eggshells when they were around her these days. And what with her father pretending that he had to work, Fabian and Gideon had really been the only option she was comfortable with. It was all rather pointless at the end of the day anyway, as no matter what happened, she got on the Hogwarts Express alone.
It was with this uncomfortable realisation that Rose remembered she was on a time limit. Never one for punctuality, the twins had left her with only ten minutes to spare before the train left, and so she had to drag her trunk uncomfortably across the station with as much speed as she could muster. She barely even registered the barrier between King's Cross and Platform 9 and ¾ as she barraged her way through, avoiding eye contact with all the parents in case one of them recognised her. She had just managed to heave herself and her luggage onto the train when the platform guard blew the whistle to announce the train's departure. What was usually a moment of great excitement for her had turned into one of great anxiety. As she looked down the corridor of the carriage, and the students flitting between compartments, laughing with each other, she felt her chest tighten. This, she knew, would be the worst part.
With great trepidation, she began lugging her trunk down the train, peering into each compartment as she went. The responses she got from her fellow students was as expected. Kids from all houses alike shunned her. Their reactions ranged from quietly turning away when her face appeared at the window to openly hollering or hissing at her. It was a lot for any child to take, but Rose simply gritted her teeth and kept moving. If she just kept moving, she wouldn't have to think too deeply about anything.
At last, she came to the final carriage, her morale decidedly weakened. As she knocked softly on the window of the nearest compartment, she found that her faith was almost entirely gone. With that in mind, she was relatively surprised when the occupant of said compartment – a lanky boy, with dirty blond hair which flopped into his face, of around her age – looked up from his book and did not immediately shoo her away.
He clearly recognised her, from the way that his eyes widened and then glanced furtively around, as though someone might see them speaking to each other and instantly disown him. However, he didn't bury his nose back into the book and pretend not to see her. Instead, he gently inclined his head, giving permission for her to open the door without encouraging it. and when she did open the door, he did not immediately tell her she had better find somewhere else, but allowed her to ask, very furtively,
"Is there anyone sat here?"
"I'm afraid there is," he said apologetically. "My three friends have just left to find the sweet trolley. But if you wait until they're back, they might –"
"No thank you," said Rose suddenly, cutting him off. She had suddenly remembered his face – he was one of James Potter and Sirius Black's hangers on. There was no point even entertaining the idea that they might let her sit with them. "I'll find somewhere else."
She closed the door abruptly, causing the poor boy, whose name she still could not remember, to look quite shocked. She didn't have time to think about his feelings, however. She had already moved onto the next (and last) compartment.
Through the window, Rose saw that she recognised the occupants. The first was a Slytherin boy in her year – Severus Snape – with his familiar greasy dark hair and hook nose. She had not bullied him before exactly, but Yelena and Delilah most certainly had, and she had never stepped in to prevent them from doing so, even if she had felt bad. He was also the only other person in the year who matched her grades in Potions, so she supposed they had developed some sort of a rivalry. She was sure that he would be more than happy to tear her down now her rising star had fallen, along with everyone else.
Opposite him, the situation was even more dire. Lily Evans had been her Gryffindor counterpart for the last two years: clever, popular, and coincidentally a redhead. Their peers had somewhat pitted them against each other, as though they were supposed to compete rather than respect each other. Rose supposed now that she had rather fallen for the bait, seeing it necessary to eclipse Evans where she could, and assert herself as the better of the two, though she had never considered herself someone who cared much about popularity. Still, she had rather scuppered herself now. Evans would not move an inch to help someone who had consistently attempted to undermine her, Rose decided. No, she had better leave that compartment well alone.
It appeared she was out of options. With great embarrassment, Rose tucked herself into a corner at the end of the carriage, retrieved a book from her trunk and then sat on it, resigned to whiling away the day-long train journey in her own company. She managed this for a few hours, even succeeding in catching the trolley lady on her way back to her station and grabbing some chocolate frogs and a pumpkin pasty. However, at around halfway through the day she heard the sound of a door opening, and someone stepping out into the corridor. It was Snape, already changed into his robes, emerald tie glinting in even the dim train lighting. Rose tried to push herself back even further into her cubby hole, avoiding eye contact, but it was no use. He caught sight of her immediately.
"Prewett? Is that you?"
She gritted her teeth. "Yes."
He looked perplexed. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" she snapped. Her mortification made her defensive. "No one would let me sit with them, so I had to sit on the floor."
For a moment, Rose thought she saw a glimpse of pity in his black eyes, before it was rapidly replaced with grim satisfaction. Rose preferred it that way – she would take schadenfreude over pity any day.
"Dolohov and Malfoy left you to the vultures, have they?" he sneered, in a tone of voice that made Rose's skin crawl.
She didn't respond, merely opening her book again and sticking her nose deeper into it. This seemed to take a lot of the wind out of his sails, and he quickly strode off, though not before he gave her one last puzzled look. She supposed it was quite disconcerting to see someone who had once been the talk of Slytherin house reduced to sitting on her own trunk.
When the train finally pulled into Hogsmeade station, Rose was both exhausted and stiff. That being said, she had never been more relieved to see the quaint little village, even if it was being doused in a good amount of September rain. From here, she just had to survive the carriage ride in and then the feast – and then, if she could slip into her bed before Delilah and Yelena even finished their dinners, she might even begin to feel at home in the castle once again. It was this thought that kept her going as she bundled her trunk through the busy corridors for the second time that day, ignoring the mocking looks and whispers that seemed to follow her around. She closed her heart and mind to them, instead focusing on putting one foot in front of another, until she had reached a door and was about to step foot onto the platform.
If she had been feeling more herself, she might have sensed that something was wrong. She had noticed the group of third-year Slytherin boys – Mulciber and Avery, amongst others – stood watching her from where the carriages were waiting, making no move to climb into one. She also saw in her peripheral vision Delilah and Yelena were with them, the latter of whom was whispering suspiciously into Avery's ear and causing him to laugh silently. Only Delilah looked awkward, twiddling one of her white-blonde plaits between her fingers, not engaging with the rest. If Rose had only been more on her guard, she would surely have noticed that something was most definitely afoot.
But she didn't. She was too tired and too hassled to think about anything other than getting through an arduous day. And so, she stepped onto the platform without a second thought. Only when she felt the cold liquid fall over her head did she realise she had been tricked.
For a moment, she could not establish what had happened – she could only hear the hush that fell over the station, and the muffled whispers and shocked giggles that soon began. She dropped her trunk, reaching her hands up to brush whatever it was off of her face, only to look at her palms and let out an involuntary shriek. They were covered in blood.
That was the reaction Avery had been looking for. He stepped towards her confidently and yelled, "That's what you get, blood traitor!"
This was all that was needed to set the whole school off in laughter – the Slytherins for her being a traitor, and all the other houses out of response to seeing one of the most privileged Slytherins being laid low. Delilah looked sheepish, refusing to make eye contact with Rose as she scrambled into a carriage, tugging Yelena along with her (despite Yelena's protestations). Snape, who was somewhere to the left in the general crowd, watched on with a shrewd gaze.
For a second, Rose didn't know what to do, frozen as she was in surprise and disgust. That is until she felt a gentle arm pulling at a clean portion of her robes.
"Come on – come over here, we'll get you cleaned up."
It was said very kindly, but it was all too much. In her hurt and her anger, Rose tugged her robe away. She felt her fury run through her veins as though it were lighter fluid, and when she screeched in response, she felt a warmth spread across her entire body.
"DON'T TOUCH ME."
The station fell silent once again, but this time in fear. As the red began to ebb from her vision, Rose could see her would-be-rescuer clearly for the first time: it was the boy with the light hair from the train, Potter and Black's friend. So he had been genuine about wanting to help her – but now he seemed nothing more than scared. For a moment, Rose could have sworn that she saw flames dancing in his eyes and she was terrified – but then she realised that it was nothing more than a reflection. The fire wasn't in his eyes – she was on fire.
With a muffled yelp, she inhaled deeply and the flames went out. The blood remained, and her skin was not burnt, but she still felt oddly warm inside. The station remained deathly quiet until eventually the sound of large footsteps, and then,
"What's goin' on 'ere then?"
It was Hagrid, the gamekeeper. Rose had never met him personally, and he made quite the imposing figure as he strode towards her. He stopped and stared.
"What on earth 'appened to you?"
She tried to answer him, but all that came out was a raspy, "Blood."
Hagrid regarded her warily. "Yeah, well, I can see that, can't I?" He turned back to the crowd. "Now, would anyone else like to tell me what's gone on, or am I going to have ter get the 'eadmaster involved?"
No one said a word, but then:
"It was Avery, Hagrid."
Rose looked up in surprise to see that it was the light-haired boy again. He was solemn as he spoke, refusing to let Black and Potter drag him away, though they had each taken him by the arm and were trying their best to pull him back to the anonymity of the crowd.
"He enchanted the train so that when Rose stepped on the platform, she'd get covered in blood."
"That's enough Remus," muttered Black as he tugged yet again on the boy's arm. "Don't put yourself on the line for someone like her."
Remus.
He relented, and Potter and Black almost carried him away. It wasn't long until he disappeared into the sea of heads. Hagrid turned gravely to the group of Slytherin boys, where Avery was watching, defiant.
"Is that true, Avery?"
"What's it to you, half-breed?"
There were titters from the Slytherins, and Hagrid bristled. He had never confirmed that this was the reason for his size, but many of the Slytherins attributed it to giant genes as a way to discriminate against him.
"I'm the Keeper of the Keys here at Hogwarts, and I'm responsible for all of yeh," he growled, using his full height to intimidate the boy. "Now you tell me why you would go and do something as idiotic as that."
"Because she's a blood traitor, that's why!"
Hagrid winced at the word, and shook his head in disappointment. "O' course it would be some rubbish like that. Well, I'll be telling Dumbledore exactly what's gone on 'ere, and we'll let 'im deal with yeh."
Avery looked as though he wanted to shout that he didn't respect Dumbledore's opinion one iota, but he seemed to find the prospect of confronting a half-giant less than palatable. He backed down, and Hagrid turned to the rest of the students.
"All of you, get on with it! Nothing to see here, or at least nothing that's any of your business!"
"But Hagrid," piped up a Hufflepuff first year, "she set herself on fire!"
"Nonsense," replied Hagrid gruffly. "Get on yer way now!"
No one wanted to argue the point further, and so they all reluctantly shuffled off. When they had mostly moved on, Hagrid squatted down and smiled kindly at Rose.
"Don't you worry yerself, kiddo – that's dragon's blood, I could smell it from a mile away. We'll get yeh to Pomfrey, and she'll have it off before you can say 'pillock'."
Rose let out a small chuckle at the joke, but it quickly disintegrated into a sob. Before she knew it, she was crying profusely into Hagrid's shoulder, not considering that she would get blood on his jacket. He didn't seem to mind however, and he trapped her in a big bear hug.
"There there now," he hummed. "People can be rotten, I know, but we'll make sure that Avery gets his just desserts."
Rose simply sniffled in response. She had the feeling that Avery was the least of her problems.
"You ready, Rosie Posie?"
Rose sank lower into the backseat and glowered out of the window. "I told you not to call me that."
Gideon rolled his eyes at his twin as he took a long inhalation from his cigarette. "Sorry cool kid, older brother prerogative. We get to call you Rosie Posie, and then one day you get to organise our funeral and tell everyone we liked to urinate in the bath."
If she hadn't been in such a bad mood, she might have appreciated the joke, but as it was, she simply frowned even more. The cigarette smoke made the car fuggy, along with her head. She wanted to get out, but as soon as she did, she would have to make her way to the train, and that was not something she felt ready to face. Unfortunately, she did not exactly have a choice.
"Alright knobhead, out of the car."
"Knobhead!" she muttered indignantly, causing Fabian to smirk from behind the steering wheel as he removed the keys from the ignition.
"Well, you said you didn't like Posie, so I improvised."
With great reluctance (and now somewhat affront) Rose threw open the door, forgetting that she was stepping out into oncoming traffic. A black cab swerved and honked at her as she jumped and slammed the door in her fright. Her brothers winced at the noise.
"Godric, Rose!" said Gideon, sticking his head out of Fabian's window. "The hell do you think you're doing!"
"If you get yourself run over, I'm not scraping you off the road," the other twin added. Rose, rather than acknowledging either of them, muttered something to the tune of not that anyone would care if I did and moved around the back of the car to the boot. It was locked.
"I need the key!"
Through the rear window she watched Gideon flick his wand, and the latch popped open. She was sure that openly performing magic outside of King's Cross station was considered a bit problematic in most circles, but soon realised that her brother probably didn't give two rat spleens now the trace was off him. She opened the boot.
She remembered instantly that her trunk was too heavy for her to lift alone: "Can someone help me with this please!"
"Fat chance," came Fabian's charming response. He was too busy preening his porn star moustache in the rear-view mirror. It was Gideon who eventually caved, always the slightly more empathetic brother, though even he struggled with heaving her bag onto the pavement. When they were finally stood in relative safety, her brother gave her the most genuine look that he had all day.
"Are you sure you're alright with this?"
Rose shrugged. "What other option is there?"
"Drop out?"
At first she thought he was joking, but soon realised he was genuine. "And be a squib?"
"I mean Filch made a whole career out of it."
"No thank you."
He watched her thoughtfully, though she was careful not to meet his gaze. "And you're sure you don't want us to walk you to the station? I'm sure we could get Fabian to move his fat arse if we tried really hard."
"Only if you bought a winch with you."
"I heard that!"
Gideon and Rose smiled at each other conspiratorially, even if it was tentative. Eventually Rose looked at the floor again and shook her head.
"Nah, it's fine. You two aren't going to be with me in Hogwarts; better to just get on with it."
He looked as though he might argue with her, but then he decided against it. "Well. If you're sure."
He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze before bounding back to the front of the car. When he was in the seat, Rose gave the boot a pat to indicate they should set off. She could hear Fabian muttering, watch the paint work! as they drove off, though he tooted the horn loudly to show he wasn't really mad. As the car disappeared into the London traffic and then the distance, Rose wondered why she hadn't taken Gideon up on his offer. If she was honest with herself, she should have let Molly and Arthur take her instead – but they always acted like they were treading on eggshells when they were around her these days. And what with her father pretending that he had to work, Fabian and Gideon had really been the only option she was comfortable with. It was all rather pointless at the end of the day anyway, as no matter what happened, she got on the Hogwarts Express alone.
It was with this uncomfortable realisation that Rose remembered she was on a time limit. Never one for punctuality, the twins had left her with only ten minutes to spare before the train left, and so she had to drag her trunk uncomfortably across the station with as much speed as she could muster. She barely even registered the barrier between King's Cross and Platform 9 and ¾ as she barraged her way through, avoiding eye contact with all the parents in case one of them recognised her. She had just managed to heave herself and her luggage onto the train when the platform guard blew the whistle to announce the train's departure. What was usually a moment of great excitement for her had turned into one of great anxiety. As she looked down the corridor of the carriage, and the students flitting between compartments, laughing with each other, she felt her chest tighten. This, she knew, would be the worst part.
With great trepidation, she began lugging her trunk down the train, peering into each compartment as she went. The responses she got from her fellow students was as expected. Kids from all houses alike shunned her. Their reactions ranged from quietly turning away when her face appeared at the window to openly hollering or hissing at her. It was a lot for any child to take, but Rose simply gritted her teeth and kept moving. If she just kept moving, she wouldn't have to think too deeply about anything.
At last, she came to the final carriage, her morale decidedly weakened. As she knocked softly on the window of the nearest compartment, she found that her faith was almost entirely gone. With that in mind, she was relatively surprised when the occupant of said compartment – a lanky boy, with dirty blond hair which flopped into his face, of around her age – looked up from his book and did not immediately shoo her away.
He clearly recognised her, from the way that his eyes widened and then glanced furtively around, as though someone might see them speaking to each other and instantly disown him. However, he didn't bury his nose back into the book and pretend not to see her. Instead, he gently inclined his head, giving permission for her to open the door without encouraging it. and when she did open the door, he did not immediately tell her she had better find somewhere else, but allowed her to ask, very furtively,
"Is there anyone sat here?"
"I'm afraid there is," he said apologetically. "My three friends have just left to find the sweet trolley. But if you wait until they're back, they might –"
"No thank you," said Rose suddenly, cutting him off. She had suddenly remembered his face – he was one of James Potter and Sirius Black's hangers on. There was no point even entertaining the idea that they might let her sit with them. "I'll find somewhere else."
She closed the door abruptly, causing the poor boy, whose name she still could not remember, to look quite shocked. She didn't have time to think about his feelings, however. She had already moved onto the next (and last) compartment.
Through the window, Rose saw that she recognised the occupants. The first was a Slytherin boy in her year – Severus Snape – with his familiar greasy dark hair and hook nose. She had not bullied him before exactly, but Yelena and Delilah most certainly had, and she had never stepped in to prevent them from doing so, even if she had felt bad. He was also the only other person in the year who matched her grades in Potions, so she supposed they had developed some sort of a rivalry. She was sure that he would be more than happy to tear her down now her rising star had fallen, along with everyone else.
Opposite him, the situation was even more dire. Lily Evans had been her Gryffindor counterpart for the last two years: clever, popular, and coincidentally a redhead. Their peers had somewhat pitted them against each other, as though they were supposed to compete rather than respect each other. Rose supposed now that she had rather fallen for the bait, seeing it necessary to eclipse Evans where she could, and assert herself as the better of the two, though she had never considered herself someone who cared much about popularity. Still, she had rather scuppered herself now. Evans would not move an inch to help someone who had consistently attempted to undermine her, Rose decided. No, she had better leave that compartment well alone.
It appeared she was out of options. With great embarrassment, Rose tucked herself into a corner at the end of the carriage, retrieved a book from her trunk and then sat on it, resigned to whiling away the day-long train journey in her own company. She managed this for a few hours, even succeeding in catching the trolley lady on her way back to her station and grabbing some chocolate frogs and a pumpkin pasty. However, at around halfway through the day she heard the sound of a door opening, and someone stepping out into the corridor. It was Snape, already changed into his robes, emerald tie glinting in even the dim train lighting. Rose tried to push herself back even further into her cubby hole, avoiding eye contact, but it was no use. He caught sight of her immediately.
"Prewett? Is that you?"
She gritted her teeth. "Yes."
He looked perplexed. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" she snapped. Her mortification made her defensive. "No one would let me sit with them, so I had to sit on the floor."
For a moment, Rose thought she saw a glimpse of pity in his black eyes, before it was rapidly replaced with grim satisfaction. Rose preferred it that way – she would take schadenfreude over pity any day.
"Dolohov and Malfoy left you to the vultures, have they?" he sneered, in a tone of voice that made Rose's skin crawl.
She didn't respond, merely opening her book again and sticking her nose deeper into it. This seemed to take a lot of the wind out of his sails, and he quickly strode off, though not before he gave her one last puzzled look. She supposed it was quite disconcerting to see someone who had once been the talk of Slytherin house reduced to sitting on her own trunk.
When the train finally pulled into Hogsmeade station, Rose was both exhausted and stiff. That being said, she had never been more relieved to see the quaint little village, even if it was being doused in a good amount of September rain. From here, she just had to survive the carriage ride in and then the feast – and then, if she could slip into her bed before Delilah and Yelena even finished their dinners, she might even begin to feel at home in the castle once again. It was this thought that kept her going as she bundled her trunk through the busy corridors for the second time that day, ignoring the mocking looks and whispers that seemed to follow her around. She closed her heart and mind to them, instead focusing on putting one foot in front of another, until she had reached a door and was about to step foot onto the platform.
If she had been feeling more herself, she might have sensed that something was wrong. She had noticed the group of third-year Slytherin boys – Mulciber and Avery, amongst others – stood watching her from where the carriages were waiting, making no move to climb into one. She also saw in her peripheral vision Delilah and Yelena were with them, the latter of whom was whispering suspiciously into Avery's ear and causing him to laugh silently. Only Delilah looked awkward, twiddling one of her white-blonde plaits between her fingers, not engaging with the rest. If Rose had only been more on her guard, she would surely have noticed that something was most definitely afoot.
But she didn't. She was too tired and too hassled to think about anything other than getting through an arduous day. And so, she stepped onto the platform without a second thought. Only when she felt the cold liquid fall over her head did she realise she had been tricked.
For a moment, she could not establish what had happened – she could only hear the hush that fell over the station, and the muffled whispers and shocked giggles that soon began. She dropped her trunk, reaching her hands up to brush whatever it was off of her face, only to look at her palms and let out an involuntary shriek. They were covered in blood.
That was the reaction Avery had been looking for. He stepped towards her confidently and yelled, "That's what you get, blood traitor!"
This was all that was needed to set the whole school off in laughter – the Slytherins for her being a traitor, and all the other houses out of response to seeing one of the most privileged Slytherins being laid low. Delilah looked sheepish, refusing to make eye contact with Rose as she scrambled into a carriage, tugging Yelena along with her (despite Yelena's protestations). Snape, who was somewhere to the left in the general crowd, watched on with a shrewd gaze.
For a second, Rose didn't know what to do, frozen as she was in surprise and disgust. That is until she felt a gentle arm pulling at a clean portion of her robes.
"Come on – come over here, we'll get you cleaned up."
It was said very kindly, but it was all too much. In her hurt and her anger, Rose tugged her robe away. She felt her fury run through her veins as though it were lighter fluid, and when she screeched in response, she felt a warmth spread across her entire body.
"DON'T TOUCH ME."
The station fell silent once again, but this time in fear. As the red began to ebb from her vision, Rose could see her would-be-rescuer clearly for the first time: it was the boy with the light hair from the train, Potter and Black's friend. So he had been genuine about wanting to help her – but now he seemed nothing more than scared. For a moment, Rose could have sworn that she saw flames dancing in his eyes and she was terrified – but then she realised that it was nothing more than a reflection. The fire wasn't in his eyes – she was on fire.
With a muffled yelp, she inhaled deeply and the flames went out. The blood remained, and her skin was not burnt, but she still felt oddly warm inside. The station remained deathly quiet until eventually the sound of large footsteps, and then,
"What's goin' on 'ere then?"
It was Hagrid, the gamekeeper. Rose had never met him personally, and he made quite the imposing figure as he strode towards her. He stopped and stared.
"What on earth 'appened to you?"
She tried to answer him, but all that came out was a raspy, "Blood."
Hagrid regarded her warily. "Yeah, well, I can see that, can't I?" He turned back to the crowd. "Now, would anyone else like to tell me what's gone on, or am I going to have ter get the 'eadmaster involved?"
No one said a word, but then:
"It was Avery, Hagrid."
Rose looked up in surprise to see that it was the light-haired boy again. He was solemn as he spoke, refusing to let Black and Potter drag him away, though they had each taken him by the arm and were trying their best to pull him back to the anonymity of the crowd.
"He enchanted the train so that when Rose stepped on the platform, she'd get covered in blood."
"That's enough Remus," muttered Black as he tugged yet again on the boy's arm. "Don't put yourself on the line for someone like her."
Remus.
He relented, and Potter and Black almost carried him away. It wasn't long until he disappeared into the sea of heads. Hagrid turned gravely to the group of Slytherin boys, where Avery was watching, defiant.
"Is that true, Avery?"
"What's it to you, half-breed?"
There were titters from the Slytherins, and Hagrid bristled. He had never confirmed that this was the reason for his size, but many of the Slytherins attributed it to giant genes as a way to discriminate against him.
"I'm the Keeper of the Keys here at Hogwarts, and I'm responsible for all of yeh," he growled, using his full height to intimidate the boy. "Now you tell me why you would go and do something as idiotic as that."
"Because she's a blood traitor, that's why!"
Hagrid winced at the word, and shook his head in disappointment. "O' course it would be some rubbish like that. Well, I'll be telling Dumbledore exactly what's gone on 'ere, and we'll let 'im deal with yeh."
Avery looked as though he wanted to shout that he didn't respect Dumbledore's opinion one iota, but he seemed to find the prospect of confronting a half-giant less than palatable. He backed down, and Hagrid turned to the rest of the students.
"All of you, get on with it! Nothing to see here, or at least nothing that's any of your business!"
"But Hagrid," piped up a Hufflepuff first year, "she set herself on fire!"
"Nonsense," replied Hagrid gruffly. "Get on yer way now!"
No one wanted to argue the point further, and so they all reluctantly shuffled off. When they had mostly moved on, Hagrid squatted down and smiled kindly at Rose.
"Don't you worry yerself, kiddo – that's dragon's blood, I could smell it from a mile away. We'll get yeh to Pomfrey, and she'll have it off before you can say 'pillock'."
Rose let out a small chuckle at the joke, but it quickly disintegrated into a sob. Before she knew it, she was crying profusely into Hagrid's shoulder, not considering that she would get blood on his jacket. He didn't seem to mind however, and he trapped her in a big bear hug.
"There there now," he hummed. "People can be rotten, I know, but we'll make sure that Avery gets his just desserts."
Rose simply sniffled in response. She had the feeling that Avery was the least of her problems.
