Chapter title taken from the Queen song with David Bowie.
The next several weeks were nowhere near as eventful as the first. The Malfoy character kept a guarded distance from Rosalind, only speaking to her if he absolutely needed to.
It was the end of the day on Friday, and Rosalind was caught in the after work rush by the lifts, wedged between a smelly wizard and a tall woman whose armpit smelled of warm cabbage. At the Atrium she spotted Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley talking to a tall man she recognized to be the Minister of Magic. She smiled politely at them; they had been cordial with her, but had only spoken a handful of times.
"Oh there she is!" Hermione waved to her excitedly. Rosalind stopped in her tracks, eyebrows knitting into a thread. The Golden Girl beckoned her to come over to them, dragging her by the elbow.
"Hi Rosalind, how are you doing?" She asked with a friendly smile. Before she could answer she turns to the Minister. "Kingsley, this is the witch I was telling you about. She's brand new and she's still being broken in but she is absolutely brilliant. She successfully identified a werewolf bite and healed the victim on her first day. She has also spent time working abroad." She smiled, introducing the pair. "This is Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister."
Rosalind's mouth scrunched into an uncomfortable, awkward smile. "So nice to meet you," she creaked.
The imposing man chuckled and spoke in a slow, booming voice. "Nice to meet you as well, Miss Morana. Hermione here appears to be quite impressed with you." Rosalind's face burned red as she tucked a curl behind her ear. "I presume you have met Harry and Ron?" She nodded, having met Ron a few days prior. "We have a monthly dinner the Burrow-the Weasley home and would like you to join us tonight at seven o'clock."
"Really?" she blurted. "Of all people? Tonight?"
"Yes you," the Minister smiled. "We have heard good things about you."
"Thank you," she muttered. "I would love to."
"Great," Hermione said as they begin to walk away. "Remember, seven o'clock tonight, Ottery St. Catchpole!" She waved goodbye, leaving a dumbstruck Rosalind alone.
At seven o'clock on the dot, Rosalind Apparated to Ottery St. Catchpole, a small Muggle and wizarding village nestled between two valleys, surrounded by endless acres of green land. Far off to the left a tall, rickety house leaned with multiple chimneys, a small front garden, and a modest sign reading "THE BURROW." Rosalind nervously tapped on the door, clearing her throat, unsure of what was to come next.
A plump, red-headed woman answered the door, her kind brown eyes greeting her. "Hello there!" she said cheerfully. "You must be Rosalind! Come in, come in, and make yourself at home." She ushered her inside, Rosalind breath taken by the abundance of magic everywhere: pots, pans, and dishes whirring, a clock with every member of the Weasley family on every hand, tiny garden gnomes trying to make their way through the house but stopping short with an electric shock from the anti-gnome devices.
"Dinner is just about ready!" Mrs. Weasley said, beckoning Rosalind near the head of the table. "There you go, you can have a seat by Hermione and Ginny if you'd like." A chair magically sweeps itself in front of her, pushing her into the table.
"Oh hello, so glad you could make it," Hermione greeted. "Almost everyone is here."
"What do you mean? This looks like a full house," she said, noting the dozen wizards bustling around.
"The rest of the Order should be here soon, they're always a bit late." Upon seeing Rosalind's perplexed face she added, "oh I didn't tell you this was going to be a meeting for the Order?"
"Not at all," Rosalind replied. "I was just told to come here at seven for dinner."
"Oh, right." Hermione laughed. "I can't believe I forgot to mention that. This is Ginny by the way, Harry's fiancée." She gestured to the pretty redhead she was sitting next to who had the same warm brown eyes as her mother.
"Nice to meet you," she said, extending her hand. "I've heard good things about you."
"Oh I'm sure it's nothing," she responded. "I've heard you're an outstanding Quidditch player, how are the Harpies doing?"
"We're doing pretty alright, our Keeper's been out a while," she said as she sipped her tea. "Took a bad Bludger to the head, woke up severely concussed. But hey, that's Quidditch for you."
Rosalind nodded politely as more wizards made their way through the already cramped kitchen, a lanky ginger-haired young man making his way to the seat directly in front of them. He screeched his chair loudly, banging his elbow on the table. He glanced up, noticing the new face in their midst, giving the stranger a crooked smile.
"Couldn't stay away from me, could you?" George Weasley said to Rosalind.
Her heart skipped a beat. She blushed, her face burning almost as bright as George's hair. "You caught me," she said with a shrug in mock-defeat.
George grinned. "I knew you'd come back to me."
Ginny's back jerked from her chair with a raised eyebrow. "You two know each other?"
"We're the best of mates," George said seriously. "Came into my shop the other day and swindled some free goods out of me. I was so impressed I asked her out on a date then and there."
"What?" Rosalind sputtered. "No that never-"
"Oh pardon me, where are my manners?" He conjured a red rose from thin air, handing it to her. "Let me take you out on date, next Friday night?" He asked gently.
Rosalind's face burned so hot she was sure the flower would burst into flame. She glanced at Hermione and Ginny who looked equally as shocked.
"I umm-yeah, why not?" She responded. "So I can get more free goods by the end of the night." Her heart was pulsing through her chest. She couldn't believe George would be so bold to ask her out in front of his sister and friend.
A wave of silence flowed throughout the room, bringing all to a standstill. Kingsley Shacklebolt had arrived, his presence spilling through the audience like water. He sat at the head of the table, next to Arthur Weasley. The table had been magicked to accommodate all the guests and plates of food. The scents of honey-cured ham, Yorkshire pudding, bread rolls, pumpkin pie and more adorned the table.
"Alright everyone," Molly Weasley said with a hot plate of pulled-pork sandwiches in her hands. "Dig in!"
With no idea where to start, Rosalind grabbed a sample of everything, wolfing down the food and moaning in delight. It had been ages since she had had a home cooked meal she hadn't made herself. She was eating plate after plate, oblivious to the stares.
"Blimey mate," George said surprised. "Do you breathe between bites?"
With a turkey leg halfway in her mouth, Rosalind swallows a large chunk of meat. "Sorry," she replied. "I got a little carried away." She wiped her mouth, setting down the half eaten leg.
Ginny laughs. "It's alright, Mum likes it when people go for seconds. It makes her happy." She nudged her ribs. "Don't worry about it."
Rosalind smiles as Kingsley stood, drawing the room into complete silence again. "Good evening. Tonight's meeting will be dealing with various issues at the Ministry. We also have a potential new member with us tonight, a new employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Miss Morana is an American citizen and has been trained in the Dark Arts, having survived the aftermath of two devastating wizarding wars. I am pleased with the work she has been contributing to the Ministry this week and what she has discovered." He paused, all eyes in the room shifting to her. "Unfortunately it has been confirmed that werewolves have been attacking in the area." Muttered whispers floated throughout the room in astonishment. "A few weeks ago Rosalind was able to successfully identify a werewolf bite, apply the proper potion to help heal the wound and was able to send the victim to St. Mungo's before she transformed. We have also received notice of two other victims in the last several days. Normally I would have the Aurors take care of this but since we have no leads or motives, I think it's best the Order is informed." The atmosphere grows tense, but Shacklebolt presses on. "With that being said, I'd like to introduce to you all Rosalind Morana."
Polite golf clapping ensued, freezing her to her seat. "Hello," she said with a wave. "I'm Rosalind, I was born and raised in the United States. I haven't been working at the Ministry for very long but as the Minister mentioned, I do have a background with experiencing the Dark Arts. My parents are from El Salvador, actually having fled there when they were teenagers to the United States during the civil war. Once I was of age I lived there for about a year, I was part of a resistance group you can call it." She laughed dryly. "We did our best to help the people down there but because of that and being undercover, there was a lot of Dark Magic I encountered." She glanced around the room, eagerly listening to her words. "Which has helped me here working the with Department of Magical Law Enforcement." She looked to the Minister, who nodded.
"So," continues Kingsley. "How would you like to join the Order of the Phoenix?"
She laughed in surprise. "I'd love to."
Kingsley smiled. "Welcome to the Order, Miss Morana."
Hands began to clap on her back, and congratulations were given as she was formally introduced to everyone. Fleur Delacour, absolutely breathtaking and her husband Bill equally as handsome, and their daughter Victoire, Fleur's spitting image. The Order consisted mostly of older witches and wizards including Hogwarts professors not in attendance. After dinner the rally began to leave, with Rosalind staying behind to help clean up.
"So what happens now?" she asked Hermione who was putting chairs away.
"Nothing really, that was more of a formality," she replied matter-of-factly. "If anything serious happens and your Galleon buzzes you have to answer it, especially if someone sends a Patronous. Speaking of which," she fumbled through her bag and handed her a large gold coin. "Here is your Galleon. Keep it safe."
"So, Rosalind," a curious Arthur Weasley creeped up behind her. "You are an American, is that correct?" She nodded. "How are the Muggles over there? Are they any different than here?"
She laughed as Ron rolled his eyes. "Leave her alone Dad, she probably already feels weird enough as it is."
"No it's fine," she replied with another laugh. "They're um, they're interesting. It's such a big country so when traveling from state to state it's hard to believe you're still in the U.S."
"Did you go to Muggle school growing up?"
"For a bit, yeah. It wasn't necessarily a boarding school like Hogwarts, I could come home on the weekends."
"How are the Muggles different than here?" Arthur pressed.
"It depends where you are. Some are a bit racist or narrow-minded. In general they are fairly friendly and different regions also have different accents. A Boston or New York accent sounds much different than a southern or west coast accent, for example."
"Ah," Arthur nods his head. "I have heard them in their films before. What is this racism you mentioned?"
"Some Muggles discriminate by race or ethnicity in a similar way wizards do by blood," Rosalind explained to Arthur and Ron's confused expressions. "Some places are better than others."
"Fascinating," Arthur Weasley continued. "Such interesting creatures, Muggles. Vastly misunderstood."
"What are you then if you don't mind me asking?" Ron asked curiously. Hermione swatted him on the head with a dirty plate telling him to have more tact.
"I'm Salvadorian. It's a tiny country in Central America. Like many Salvadorians I'm a mestiza, meaning I'm half indigenous and half European. My grandparents on both sides were Mayan and spoke one of the many dialects."
"Are you really?" Hermione asked, impressed. "The Mayans were some of the most advanced ancient wizards in history, they were incredibly ahead of their time."
"Yeah they were," Rosalind said proudly. "My great-grandparents on both sides were full Mayan."
"Wicked," Ron added. "Does that mean you're not Muggleborn?"
"I'm not, I'm a Pureblood. A lot of our family history has been lost though, so I don't know any of the ancient magic." She added to the stack of dirty dishes flying themselves to the sink as they began to wash themselves.
A loud crash echoed through from the living room, along with loud groans. "Oh no," Hermione sighed, "I think little Victoire has meddled with some old china again. Mrs. Weasley is going to be furious."
The others make their way into the living room as Rosalind took that as her cue to leave once she saw Molly Weasley's nostrils flare angrily. She grabbed her cloak and headed to the garden, where George was skipping stones into the pond.
"Ahh," he said as he skipped one clear to the other side. "Too much ruckus for you?"
"Sort of, your niece broke something and your mom looks furious."
"Yeah, she does that. Looks like a dragon when she's agitated." He threw one last rock and shifted his torso towards her. "Thank Merlin I'm not the one causing trouble anymore." He wiped his hands on his sweater, getting rid of the murky swampy residue. "So what can I do you for, are you already running off home?"
"No not yet," Rosalind replied. Her hands began to sweat the closer he stood to her. "Probably soon though, I'm sure you're all tired of having people over."
"Us? Nonsense," George grinned. "That house is never empty. We'd be much more upset if no one was over to visit." He sighed, taking a good look at his childhood home. "Sometimes I miss living with my folks, it gets lonely living all the way in Diagon Alley." He mused to himself for a second then snapped back into a cheery tone. "Anyways, don't we have a date next Friday?"
Rosalind looked down at her feet timidly and agreed, still holding her rose. "That is what you called it." She looked into his soft brown eyes, noticing the abundance of freckles on his nose.
George ogled her, grinning from ear to ear hole. "You are correct, madam." Their eyes connected, taking in each other's presence for the first time: her dark brown skin, trails of faint scars on her arms, long, thick curly hair, her almond shaped eyes and full lips; his wide toothy grin, freckled nose, the slight aroma of fresh baked cookies. It was as if no one else was close by; just them in a perfect moment.
"You still haven't told me what we're doing next weekend," she said softly.
"Of course not, a true gentleman doesn't reveal his secrets," he said with a flair of faux-French accent. "You'll find out soon enough."
"Fine," she huffed at him, twiddling with her rose. "I guess you win this time. Thank you for the flower by the way, that was very nice of you."
George threw his head back and beamed. "You're quite welcome."
He grinned at her, peering into her eyes and making Rosalind so nervous her face begins to redden again. "I should be going, I have lots of umm…reading to do," she said, taking a step away from him. "I'll see you around?"
"Sooner than you'd think."
She smiled again, stopping by inside to say goodbye to the rest of the Weasleys and members of the Order before Apparating back to her living room. She splattered herself on her couch, strangely flustered. For the first time in her life she felt relaxed, yet excited; for once not stressed about her situation. Things were finally looking up. An odd giddy feeling bubbled inside her stomach and it hit her-she was happy. With a full smile on her face she transfigured a ceramic bowl into a vase, dropping her flower gently into its new home.
So what'd you think about George's second appearance? I think he is quite the charmer. The next chapter is a bit longer, with Draco and Rosalind getting to know each other more.
Next chapter: Cheers (Drink to That).