Chapter title taken from the Fall Out Boy song.
TRIGGER WARNING: Domestic violence and sexual assault.
"I missed you," he had told her.
She smiled. "I missed you too."
He climbed through her window without asking for permission as if it was his own house, taking his shoes off, and removing his jacket.
"You know we're not going to do anything right?" she said to him quietly. "I told you before you—"
"Yeah you say that, but you're wearing that?," he said gruffly, ignoring her.
His shirt and torn shorts. She was wearing his shirt.
He didn't care. He got what he wanted. He always got what he wanted. No matter how much she cried, no matter how much she pleaded, he found a way to make her believe that she was stupid, worthless, and that she deserved it.
After he was done with her he stumbled to her dresser. "What's with your weird coin collection?" he asked. She didn't say anything, her body in pain. "I'm taking this as compensation for wasting my time. Stop crying. You're lucky to be with me." He crawled back out the window, leaving the young girl crying in her bed.
"Stop…stop it…please…" Rosalind was muttering in her sleep, holding tightly to the blanket. "I don't-I don't want-"
Draco had been up for over an hour, awoken by Rosalind's muttering. She appeared to be in pain, the corners of her eyes streaming tears. "Morana," he said in a low voice. "Wake up, you're having a bad dream-" Her eyes snapped open as soon as he touched her shoulder. Upon seeing Draco she shot him with a Stunning Spell that knocked him straight into the wall.
"Bloody hell, I was trying to be nice to you!" he yelled annoyed.
Rosalind's hair was a disheveled mess and her eyes were darting back and forth in paranoia; she was clutching her wand and backing further into the bed.
"Is he-is he still here?" she asked flustered.
"Is who still here? No one is here," Malfoy says in a lower tone. "It's just us."
"Just us?" She squeaks, like a child, eyeing the numerous empty bottles of alcohol on the floor, the transfigured ceiling, and the scattered deck of cards drenched of tequila. "You let me sleep here?"
"What was I supposed to do leave you on the floor? You were drunk," Draco retorted. "I wasn't going to kick you out."
Rosalind eyed him in surprise, as if she expected him to say something terrible "Sorry," she finally said coming to her senses. "I didn't realize we had a party last night."
"You could say that." He whisked his wand, two plates setting onto his table with two glasses of pumpkin juice and fresh bacon, French toast, and syrup. "Good morning by the way."
She sat down in the rickety chair and took a sip of juice. "Good morning," she said gracelessly. "Thanks for breakfast. You didn't have to do that."
"You didn't have to Stun me either but I'll get over it."
"I'm sorry," she said as she poked her toast. "I had a bad dream and forgot where I was. It's been a long time since I've been somewhere besides my house."
Draco took a large bite of bacon and chewed it slowly. "So you don't normally talk like a madman in your sleep?"
"No. At least I don't think so. I'll clean up and fix your ceiling before we leave." She ate the remainder of her breakfast quietly, transfiguring her clothes into different colors so it wouldn't be obvious to anyone that she hadn't changed. Draco slipped away to the bathroom for a quick shower. He emerged ten minutes later in a towel, having forgotten his clothes in his bedroom. Rosalind looked in his direction, noticing many faint, long scars on his torso. She jerked her head away when Draco caught her and Banished the empty bottles into the trashcan.
He walked into the living room as he buttoned up his gingham dress shirt. "Those lovely scars are from dear Potter. We had a row during our sixth year in the bathroom." He answered her matter-of-factly, like it was a piece of information everyone knew.
"Harry gave you those?" she asked astonished. "I didn't think he would do something like that."
"Potter isn't always as noble as he seems," he answered rather coldly. "He likes his Golden Boy appearance."
Rosalind stayed quiet. Maybe he had a reason to do it, she thought. But she didn't see Draco as someone who would provoke someone to the point they would curse him.
"Are you coming with me or are you too embarrassed to be seen going in together?" he quipped.
"Not embarrassed. I figured you wouldn't want to be seen with me in case any of the women at the Ministry are into you and you wouldn't want to raise suspicions."
Draco gave a stiff laugh and grinned. "A lot of those women have already thrown themselves at me, being a former Death Eater and all. Nothing would make them more jealous than Apparating there together."
Rosalind rolled her eyes and took his hand. With a faint pop Draco's house disappeared and they were in the Atrium. They Apparated in front of the fountain, directly in the view of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Rosalind quickly let go of Draco's hand as he raised his eyebrows to them in greeting.
"Speaking of the devil there's the little git," he said through gritted teeth.
They paved their way to the lifts, passing by the small group. "Good morning Minister," he said to Shacklebolt monotonously.
Kingsley nodded. "Good morning Mr. Malfoy, Rosalind."
"Good morning Minister," she smiled timidly, giving an awkward wave to Ron, Harry and Hermione who had questioning looks on their faces.
"Didn't know you were on a first name basis with the Minister," Draco said cooly once they were safely in the lifts.
"I just met him a few days ago. I'm surprised he remembered my name."
The golden grilles opened to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They walked to the last door of the hallway on the right, arriving just on time for their supervisor to greet them.
"Ah! The Golden Pair has arrived," a worn-looking Bowen said to them. "Come, come now, we have a department meeting in the Auror's Office." He laid a hand on the small of Rosalind's back, leading them to the spacious room. They were amongst the last to arrive, with the Golden Trio shuffling into the seats in the back.
Harry walked through the audience and stood by the door, rapping his wand on the window to get everyone's attention. "Good morning everyone, sorry for being late." He threw some photographs in the air, which swelled to be five feet by three feet long, depicting the faces of many defeated looking but angry men.
"As you are all very aware of, there has been a surge of crime in the area for quite some time now. There have also been talks of riots in Azkaban particularly amongst former Death Eaters. Azkaban no longer has dementors but if there is a riot that could initiate reason to use their services again." Mutters waved throughout the room, astonished that dementors would even be mentioned. "Instead we propose that we send some of our employees to patrol Azkaban, on top of or instead of their normal shifts. You will all be notified by the end of the week when your shift will be. We also will need to make special accommodations for certain employees." He turned his gaze to Draco, whose eyes glittered with anger.
"Memos will be dispensed shortly; if you have any questions my office is open at all hours." He clapped his hands and the photographs shrunk to their normal size and chairs screeched as everyone began to leave.
Draco and Rosalind were by the exit when Harry stopped them. "Malfoy, can I see you in my office?" His voice was firm. Draco's jaw was tense; he turned on his heel without a word.
Rosalind let the crowd of wizards discharge her into the hallway. Hermione was at the edge of the pack waiting for her. "Good morning," she said brightly. "You look awfully tired, are you alright?"
"I had a long night," she admitted.
"I see." Hermione stared at her inquiringly for a moment then smiled. "Since when have you and Malfoy been friends?"
"Friends?" The word sounded foreign to her; she hadn't had a friend for as long as she could remember. "We're not exactly friends…we work together. We're partners."
"Oh, he's the one your supervisor was talking about?" she asked surprised. "He was talking to Harry and I about finally finding someone compatible with one of his officers; I had no idea it was you two."
Rosalind shrugged. "I guess so. He's not that bad, once you get to know him a bit."
Hermione let out a small laugh. "I wouldn't know, he's never been the most decent person to me. But I know he's not the evil Death Eater everyone makes him out to be. Oh by the way," she added with a sly smile. "Don't you have a date this weekend with George?"
Rosalind's face flushed, she had completely forgotten about it during her rendezvous with Draco. "I do actually, this Friday night. I haven't talked to him since then though and I have no idea what we're doing so I don't know what to expect."
"Well honestly, George hasn't gone out on a date since he was with his Hogwarts girlfriend and that was ages ago. I can't tell you what to expect either." An annoyed voice called her name out from the Auror's Office and she turned her body to leave. "Oh that's Ronald, he looks upset. Want to have lunch today?"
"Sure, meet you at the café?"
Hermione nodded and met up with her ginger-headed lover, who looked agitated. Rosalind sat in her chair and began looking through her notes but couldn't focus. That dream she had was bothering her; she hadn't had it in months. It was usually the product of stress or change but she felt fine. Maybe it was nerves for her date with George but that didn't seem right. Or perhaps it was her psyche telling her it was a bad idea staying the night at a coworker's house; it almost felt like a one night stand.
Draco arrived several minutes later, ramming his fists into his desk, causing a jet of light to emerge from his wand. "That filthy git. He's such a fucking arse."
"What happened?"
"It's Saint Potter," Draco spat in a low voice. "He doesn't fucking trust me. Thinks I'll break my father out of Azkaban if they send me there or owl him a warning if I stay. I have to have a member of the goddamn Order babysitting me so I don't do something dodgy."
"Oh really," Rosalind sat up, ears perked. "Who are they sending you with?"
"Weasley. Can't stand him. I'd take the Mudblood Granger any day before him. At least she has some sense in her head."
Rosalind punched his arm. "Don't call her that!"
"Did I insult your little friend?" he sneered, rubbing his arm. "Stop hitting me so hard people are going to think you're abusing me."
"Because you're so fragile right? Can't even handle a little bottle of liquor."
Draco's face faltered to a smirk. "Don't be a sore winner." He leaned back, creaking his chair. "Can't believe they still don't trust me. I've been here years now and haven't stepped out of line once. I've never missed a day or been late and this is how they treat me?" He dug his fingers through his platinum blonde hair in frustration. "I don't even speak to my father anymore because he thinks I'm a disappointment," he finished in a whisper.
Rosalind began to offer her sympathies but Draco shut her out, before she could tell him she did not think he was a disappointment.
Draco was in a foul mood for several days but occasionally softened up for a moment. They had not talked about Azkaban since the day of the meeting and their assignments hadn't been handed to them yet. They had no leads on their cases and there were no updates from St. Mungo's or Adriana. It was starting to feel like a dead end.
Friday simmered by slowly, but finally it was time to leave. At the first stroke of the clock Rosalind jumped out of her seat and headed straight to the lifts.
"You're awfully giddy," Draco observed. "Where are you headed off to?"
"Oh nowhere, just going home," she replied in a high pitched voice.
Draco cocked his eyebrow. "Dying to read your books are you?"
Rosalind smiled, not being able to contain her excitement. "No I actually have some different plans in mind. I have a date tonight." She was grinning like a little school girl.
"A date?" Draco was flabbergasted. "With who?"
"I only just met him recently, I hardly know him. Don't look so eager," she added harshly upon seeing his quizzical look. "Once in a blue moon someone finds me attractive, believe it or not."
"I'm not astonished," he retorted. "Just surprised it happened so quickly." The grilles opened to the Atrium and he prepared to step out. "Have fun on your date," he said without giving her a last goodbye.
Rosalind took the long way home, walking through the Leaky Cauldron and saying hi to Tom before heading to her flat. A handsome owl was waiting for her, holding a long-stemmed red rose in its beak and a small roll of parchment on its leg. She gave the owl a treat before opening it; a small note was written in straight, stylish writing:
Meet me in front of Rosa Lee Teabag's shop at six. Can't wait to see you.
Regards,
George
The clock chimed once, indicating it was five thirty. "Half an hour?" she sputtered. That barely gave her enough time to get ready, she hadn't showered or eaten. She panicked into the bathroom, throwing some potions in her hair to try to make it look approachable and used her wand as a blow dryer to keep it in place and iron her clothes. Twenty minutes later she was back out the door, heading to the tea shop.
A tall wizard waited for her by the entrance. He was wearing navy blue slacks, a maroon button down shirt and a wristwatch similar to the one at the Burrow. He smiled widely when he saw Rosalind in her flared skirt, high heeled boots, and long sleeved sweater. "You are looking quite stunning this evening," he said taking her hand and kissing it gently. Her face flushed as soon as his lips touched her skin.
"Thank you. You are looking rather handsome yourself," she said honestly.
"Shall we?" He offered his arm and she linked them together. Rosa Lee's was a quaint little café, nestled into the corner of Diagon Alley. It had a cozy atmosphere that she loved.
"So a little bird told me that you've never been to Hogwarts before," George began as he escorted them to the back. "Or Hogsmeade for that matter."
"Who told you that?"
"Can't say, all I know is that her last name rhymes with Ranger," he grinned. "Anyways, I thought it would be a good idea to get you more acquainted with Scotland." He stopped them near the kitchen. "Are you ready?" She nodded. "Hold my hand." Rosalind took hold of him and after the initial pop felt like she was being shoved through a tube. Her head felt like it was about to explode; the longer the journey the longer the pain lasted.
They came to an abrupt halt in front of what looked like the exact tea shop they just left but their surroundings were much different: the village was chillier and much more picturesque than Diagon Alley with its tiny cottages dotting the horizon; the sun was setting, casting beautiful rays of orange and pink into their midst.
"Wow," Rosalind whispered. "It's beautiful."
"Wait until you see the rest," George whispered into her ear. "Zonko's Joke Shop used to be over there, but we took it over a few years back," he said pointing to an obnoxiously colored building. "Honeyduke's is across from it, we're planning on expanding our line to include more sweets soon."
"What's that over there?" she asked in the direction of a small and cramped shop that was emitting steam from its pores.
"That's Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. Only the most in love couples go there," he said with a slight air of contemplation. "We can't go there yet," he added with a wink.
Rosalind's stomach lurched. That wink of his was exhilarating. "Where are we off to then?"
"I pulled some strings, asked for some favors. We should be heading over to the Black Lake." He pulled her arm in the opposite direction where the vast lake was. A large boat was waiting for them, resembling a gondola: it was long and wide but had no oars; there was one row of seats covered in velvet and a picnic basket in the center. The water grazed the sides of the boat, rocking it gently. George stepped in first and then helped Rosalind climb into the vessel. As soon as they sat down they were magically propelled in the direction of the sunset.
"Where are we going?" she asked as George unpacked the basket.
"You'll see. You do like seafood don't you? I forgot to ask." Out of the basket popped two plates of smoked salmon, couscous, grilled shrimp and lobster tail; their auras steaming into their noses.
"Yes I love it actually. Did you do this yourself?"
"What the boat? No, I'm no carpenter. But dinner, yes I did. I'm an exceptional cook if I do say so myself." He handed her a glass of wine and they began to eat.
Rosalind was in awe. The more she thought about it the more she realized she hadn't been on many proper dates before. No one had ever asked her to be her boyfriend, it kind of just happened. And here was George Weasley who she hardly knew, going above and beyond anything she expected.
As they were eating their dessert, a loud splash emanated close by shaking the boat. Rosalind clutched onto George's arm. "What was that?"
"The Giant Squid. He probably wants to say hello," he said calmly.
"A giant squid?" she shrieked. "Those things are vicious!"
George laughed. "Don't worry he's nice, I promise. Rather ticklish too; his favorite food is toast by the way." He threw a few pieces into the water, which were quickly devoured by a large slimy tentacle.
Rosalind jumped so high she almost knocked their boat over. George leaped at the opportunity and held her in his arms, shushing her. "It's alright I won't let him hurt you," he said grinning. "I'll fight him to the death if I have to."
She relaxed, leaning into his chest. "That's quite heroic of you," she said with a smile.
"There was a reason I was Sorted into Gryffindor," he replied.
She had to admit she felt comfortable lying in George's arms. It didn't feel awkward, odd or rushed; it felt perfectly easy. She looked up into his eyes, noticing for the first time how handsome he was: his hair was an impeccably disheveled mess that went along well with his auburn eyes; his thin nose had countless freckles that made him appear younger, and he had prominent laugh lines creasing the corners of his mouth.
George etched her face carefully with his fingertips, lightly moving a curl from her eyes. The moonlight was beaming down at them, accentuating her features. "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" he whispered.
Rosalind blushed. "It's been a while" she said truthfully.
"That's a shame," he said with a chuckle. "You are absolutely gorgeous." She leaned in closer to him, feeling his warm breath swindling into her own. Her heart started to beat faster as his lips came closer to hers, slowly making their way towards her skin.
The boat slammed into the shore, screeching to a halt. Rosalind slammed into George's nose, splattering blood everywhere.
"Oh no! I am so sorry!" she yelled frantically. "Episky!" A torturous crunching sound emitted from his nose, breaking it back into place.
"Oy! How'd you do that?" he asked rubbing his schnoz.
"I used to transfigure my nose quite a bit," she said proudly. She rubbed an ointment on George and all signs of potential scars faded away. "I've gotten into a few scuffles back in my day."
"I better make sure not to get on your bad side then," George laughed.
She smiled and he slipped his arm beneath her waist. She found that oddly enough she did not mind it; it almost felt comforting.
"See that over there?" he pointed to a large, deciduous plant with rope-like limbs that suffocated anything its path. "That's the Whomping Willow. There's a secret passage underneath it that leads to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. The Honeyduke's cellar has another passageway that leads into Hogwarts by the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom."
"Why do I have a feeling you know every way in and out of that castle?" Rosalind asked slyly.
"You're speaking to George Weasley, infamous Hogwarts dropout remember?" He stiffed his posture boastfully. "I am a legend at this school." He steered them to the foot of a broad set of stone steps, leading to magnificent oak doors that stood over fifteen feet tall. He tapped on the doors in a circular motion with his wand, and the majestic doors opened dramatically. "Welcome to Hogwarts Miss Rosalind."
Rosalind's jaw dropped; she did not think they would actually be allowed to step inside. Flaming torches floated against the walls, giving the hall an eerie yet comforting glow; nearby was the Great Hall where students were spilling into for dinner. Other students were scattered throughout the hall in the benches and tables, while some casually walked around in groups. Quills scratched away on meter long rolls of parchment, wands whisked in preparation for charms exams, and potions bubbled fumes of alchemy.
"I can't believe you brought me here," she breathed, almost unable to speak. "Are we even allowed inside?"
"Allowed?" George scoffed. "What's life without a little mischief? We'll be fine, as long as we don't run into Filch-he'll turn us in." He dragged her by the elbow to explore the remainder of the castle: they peeked into several classrooms, ran around the quad, chatted with Nearly Headless Nick and attempted to sneak some flying time at the Quidditch pitch until the Slytherins began their practice.
"May I ask what your business is here tonight, Mr. Weasley?" a stern voice behind them said.
They stopped dead in their tracks, barely able to face the tall, severe-looking woman glaring at them with her square spectacles. She was sporting emerald green robes and her peppered hair was pulled back in a tight bun.
"Professor—Professor McGonagall!" George stammered in a strange high-pitched voice. "How nice to see you!"
The witch pursed her lips, giving an even sterner look. "Nice to see you too Mr. Weasley. I'm assuming you're not here on business?"
"No not tonight, I know how much you dislike my items in the castle," he said rather nervously. "We're just wandering around."
"I see." She took a good look at Rosalind, who was trying not to hide behind George. "And who may I ask is this young lady?"
"My name is Rosalind, professor," she said as she extended her hand. "My sister goes to school here, her name is Emma Morana."
"You're Emma's sister?" she raised an eyebrow. "The little American second year? She's your spitting image."
She smiled nervously, unsure whether she was complimenting her or not. "Yes she is, unfortunately. I hope she hasn't been too much trouble."
McGonagall laughed. "Poor thing hardly talks. I'm sure she will be happy to see you. It's nice to finally meet you." Rosalind's face flushed as George relaxed his shoulders. McGonagall lowered her voice. "Make sure to avoid Argus, he has been on the prowl since he heard you are in the castle." She smiled at them and left for her office.
A small first year tugged at George's pant leg. "Excuse me sir, why's your ear gone?" he asked curiously.
George bent down the boy's eye level completely unoffended. "A few years ago a smelly old Death Eater cursed it off while we were battling," he said simply. "I don't mind though, it helps me get the ladies." He smirked in Rosalind's direction and the little boy opened his mouth in awe.
"Blimey that means you're indestructible!" he cried impressed. George slipped him a Nosebleed Nougat, warning him to use it when he most needed it. The boy excitedly ran off, showing off to his friends. The band of paltry first years cheered and ran back to him, hauling him to their comrades to ask about Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Rosalind laughed, following close behind them.
"Who's this, Georgie?" a spunky ginger-haired boy with braces asked when Rosalind approached them. "Is she your girlfriend?"
George's ear burned red. "Not yet she is not, Algie but perhaps sometime soon she will be," he answered with a smile. He shielded his mouth with his hand, whispering. "I think she's a bit overwhelmed that I have so many kids. Might scare her off." The young boys grabbed some Skiving Snackboxes that he seized from his pocket and they ran away with their treats.
"Georgie?" Rosalind said with a laugh. "Am I allowed to call you that?"
He gave her a playful glare. "Only my mother and a select few people can call me that."
"Ooh don't be such a sourpuss Georgie," she giggled, pinching his cheek.
"Fine then. I get to call you Rosie."
She frowned at him. "Rosie sounds like a little girl's name. Georgie is cute."
"So you're admitting I'm cute?" he smirked.
"You're okay, I guess," she smiled.
He nudged her with his shoulder. "Don't worry, one day you won't be able to dismiss my charms."
She smiled. They heard a meow coming from a yellow eyed cat in the distance. Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's pet had found them and was ready to pounce.
"Oh drat," George said as they jumped up. "Filch will kick us out for sure. Quick—in here." He lifted up a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy where he instructed her to walk three times. A door materialized in front of them, which shut before the cat could alert Filch where they were.
They entered what at first looked like an abandoned classroom but was actually a ballroom: the walls were lined with maroon and gold curtains, the windows were beaming sunlight and the mahogany floor shone on them. A phonograph was at the corner of the room playing romantic jazz music.
"What is this?" Rosalind asked in astonishment. "It's dark outside how is the sun shining?"
George merely grinned. "This is the Room of Requirement, it contains everything you ask for. I was feeling quite amorous as you can see." He stepped towards her, bowing deeply. "Care to dance?"
"Oh I can't dance—"
"I'll show you." He grabbed her hand before she could finish, keeping them chest to chest. "Just follow my lead." Rosalind kept up as best she could, being careful not to step on his toes; she was a terrible dancer.
The music was peaceful, colorful and relaxing. "Do you normally do this for your dates?" she asked after several minutes.
"What, dance with them? Not really I'm not much of a dancer myself." He laughed seeing the look on her face. "I don't honestly. I told you you're the first person I've asked out in a long time."
"What made you ask me out?"
He paused, the music still playing softly in the background. "I don't know, really," he said as he held her closer. "There's something about you that immediately drew me to you…like I needed to talk to you."
"Well I did walk into your joke shop, so you kind of had to," she teased.
George rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. You just seem so intoxicating. I can't keep my eyes off of you. It's like you're hypnotizing me."
She heart fluttered. "So my Salvadoran voodoo is working."
George let out a hearty laugh. "A little too well darling, you may need to tone it down a bit."
She smiled, holding his gaze. "Never."
He grinned, their eyes containing to lock: he looked mesmerized, as if he could not believe what was in front of him. He lifted her chin closer to his face, their hot breath coiling together. She closed her eyes as he pressed his lips onto hers, gently but firmly. A rush of emotions pulsed through her body, sending her heart into overdrive. Her stomach knotted with butterflies, her palms began to sweat in excitement; she had never felt like this before. George planted kisses all over her neck, lining her jaw line and making his way back to her mouth. He was sweet yet lustful at the same time, being careful not to push her boundaries. He led them to the couch that appeared before them, descending Rosalind onto her back. He cupped the back of her head, taking in her scent, her body and her essence.
"My goodness," he whispered several minutes later, breathing heavily. "You are quite the kisser."
Rosalind smiled shyly, hair a mess. "You're not so bad yourself." She sat up on the couch trying to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure George could hear it.
"We should probably head back," he finally said. "It's getting late."
They headed to the door, making sure that no prefects or professors were lurking the hallway. They managed to sneak down to the first floor entrance without getting caught, slipping through the doors and out to the Black Lake. The boat was still waiting for them, edges being licked away by the gentle waves.
"After you madam," George said as he helped her in the boat. It was close to midnight and the air was chilly. Rosalind shuddered and let George's long arms warm her body. The boat waded through the lake slowly, finally heaving to a stop at the edge of Hogsmeade. The shops were quiet, the streets dimly lit. She held onto his hand and they Apparated back to Diagon Alley. They landed back in front of the tea shop with a thud; hardly any wizards were wandering the street.
"I should walk you home," George said noticing the sketchy men by Knockturn Alley. "Wouldn't want you to be getting hurt."
They walked through the dark alley eventually making it to Rosalind's flat. "I had a great time with you tonight," he said softly.
"So did I," she admitted. "Thank you for walking me home."
"A gentleman never lets a lady walk home by herself," he beamed. He squeezed her, kissing the top of her head sweetly. "When will I be able to see you again?"
"When do you want to?"
"I would say tomorrow, but I have to work at the shop all weekend. We're getting some new product in. Maybe same time next week?"
She nodded. "I would love that."
"Great. I'll owl you, and maybe stop by," he winked. Her stomach fluttered. "See you around, Rosie."
"See you, Georgie."
She sighed happily, setting foot into her flat. She was laughing to herself, high off of a strange euphoria that she had never experienced before. It was a great feeling, she had to admit, feeling so high that she couldn't stop smiling.
She noticed a small piece of parchment that appeared to have been shoved under her door. How odd, she thought. Hardly anyone knew where she lived. She opened it and read the small, scribbled writing:
You're being watched.
Uh oh, who's been keeping an eye on Rosalind? What was up with Draco's reaction when she told him she had a date? It's going to get intense pretty soon! Thank you so much for reading! The upcoming chapter is one of my favorites :)
Next chapter: These Walls.