Chapter title taken from the Panic! At the Disco song.
"What will little Emma do when she finds out what you did to her?"
Long chapter ahead!
"Malfoy?"
Draco smirked, his shirt half unbuttoned. "Took you long enough, didn't it?" He grabbed a bottle of wine and popped the cork, drinking it from the bottle.
"When did you know it was me?" she demanded. "Did you know the whole time?"
"Know what? That you weren't Astoria?" he took another swig of wine, wiping his mouth. "You were the only person that stood out to me. Honestly I thought you were her, you looked quite like her. I had a feeling when you started drinking the fire whiskey because she doesn't like hard liquor. But I knew it was you when you kissed me."
"Me kiss you?" she said flabbergasted. "You kissed me!"
"It doesn't matter," Draco said with a grin. "You can't deny that you enjoyed it."
Rosalind glared at him, her cheeks burning. "That's not the point."
Draco grinned, taking a step closer to her. "You knew something was different," he said, tracing her jawline with his finger. "I know you felt that too." He pulled her chin upwards to kiss her neck, pulling her hips before his.
"Draco I can't-" she breathed, ignoring the pulses ringing through her.
"Just let me Rose," he whispered, mouth inches from hers. "Let me taste you just once." Their eyes met in a long moment, his grey eyes longing for her to say yes.
"I can't," she repeated, pushing him away.
"Why not?" he growled, his lips parted in a snarl.
"You know why!"
"He's not your bloody boyfriend!" he scoffed, his platinum locks skimming his eyebrow. "Apparently you're just friends who snog."
"Because he's already more than I deserve!"
Her eyes widened at the words blurted from her mouth, Draco staring at her in astonishment. "What did you say?" he asked in a low voice. "You think he's too good for you?"
Rosalind closed her eyes, her chin darting to the floor. "It's true," she replied, her voice barely audible.
Draco eyed her, his head leaning to the side. "He doesn't know you, does he?"
She shrugged, clutching her ribs with her arms as if to conceal herself. "He does. Just...not entirely. I have a feeling he doesn't really want to know." She sniffed, breathing in cold air. "But I know if he really knew me he'd leave."
Draco stared at her in pity, a look she'd often give him. "What are you afraid of?"
Her dark eyes darted to the floor, her fingers digging into her skin. "For someone to see me for who I really am." She lifted her gaze to meet his, her breath hitching. "I'm not a good person, Draco."
Draco's mouth quivered, his brow twitching in surprise. "Why do you think that?"
Rosalind shook her head, her nails digging deeper into her skin. "You don't want to know."
"But I do," he said softly, taking a step towards her. "Why do you think that? It's what happened in El Salvador, isn't it?"
She nodded, swallowing the knot in her throat. "If I did what I did there here, I would be given the Dementor's Kiss. Or executed."
His head cocked at her words, his hair glistening in the moonlight. "What did you do that was so bad you won't talk about it?"
Rosalind shook her head again, wiping her nose. "I can't tell you."
Draco closed the gap between them, holding her wrists with one hand. "Rosalind," he said, forcing her to look at him with his free hand. "I'm saying this as your partner and your friend. You have to talk about what happened to you."
She glared at him, her cheeks clenching as she held back tears. "Not today," she said in a low voice. "Please." She twisted away from his grip, her head spinning as to how the conversation got here. "Goodnight, Draco." She Apparated before he could respond, landing in her bleak apartment, identical as to how she left it.
She jumped, spotting an owl fly out her window after dropping a piece of post. An odd time to receive a letter, she thought, as it was nearly one in the morning. She frowned, unrolling the scroll of parchment:
Rosie,
I apologize I wasn't able to make it tonight, there was an accident involving a customer at the shop. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise. I'll be there to pick you up at noon.
Regards,
George
Her heart panged in guilt as she set the letter to the side, Banishing her cold mug of tea to the trash and tossing her costume in the closet. She didn't want a reminder of her night.
She changed, curling into a ball in her bed, engulfed in pillows. Her head was throbbing, and her mind racing, recounting her evening. Stupid, she repeated to herself. She should've known it was Draco, how could she be so thick? She rubbed her temple, feeling the effects of the Calming Drought, drifting off to a dreamless sleep.
Rosalind jolted awake the next morning, startled by the whoosh of the fireplace, a lanky body stepping through the green flames and into her bedroom, one hand with a fresh bouquet of roses, the other holding balloons singing an off key tune.
"Happy birthday love," George grinned, laughing at her startled state. "I couldn't wait longer to see you so I came early."
She grimaced a smile, rubbing her eyes and crawling out of bed, searching under the covers for her missing socks. "Good morning," she said, taking the roses and giving him a hug, laughing at the balloons. "Should I expect these to blow up on me?"
"No," he laughed. "They'll just sing to you for the next week or so." He planted a kiss on her forehead. "I'm excited for you to see what's in store for today."
"What are we doing?" she asked, rummaging through her closet for an outfit, and charming her curls to perfect frizz-free definition.
"Hold on to this and you'll see," he winked, pulling out a broken watch. She clutched his arm and held her breath, bracing herself for the ride. They placed a finger on the watch, the ground jerked beneath their feet, her body feeling as if she were knocked in the back. They were spinning so fast she was thankful she hadn't eaten yet, her mouth dry and lungs burning for oxygen. Finally after more than a full minute they thudded onto dry land.
Loud chatters from several conversations greeted their ears, along with cheering and laughing. The scent of kettle corn, overly fried food and pretzels filled her nostrils, bringing back childhood memories.
She opened her eyes. "We're at the fair?"
George nodded. "We're on Coney Island."
"You brought me home to the States?" She asked, horrified. "How?"
"I wanted to take you somewhere you've never been before." His grin turned into a concerned look. "Is that alright?"
"Yeah-yeah it's fine," she replied quickly. "As long as we don't go anywhere else, I'm a wanted criminal here," she smiled stiffly.
He put his arm around her leading her to a nearby booth. "Lucky for you I like bad girls." She rolled her eyes sarcastically before laughing, doubting that was his type of witch.
They wandered the entertaining Coney Island, observing the Muggles wearing various odd colored outfits, rollerblading on the boardwalk or munching on snacks. They started at the thrill rides of Luna Park, with the Thunderbolt, Electro Spin and the Tickler, then ventured their way to Astroland riding the Tilt-a-Whirl, the Astro Tower, the pirate ship, the Cyclone and Power Surge before deciding they might throw up. Rosalind screamed her head off on the roller coasters, almost ripping George's arm in half.
"I can't breathe!" she laughed as they got off another roller coaster, leaning over the railing to catch herself.
"I do have that effect on people," George said, trying to stand straight. His hair was a mess and his face slightly green. "I'm not too fond of Muggle contraptions though, they don't feel reliable."
"Oh c'mon you know you had fun," she said fixing his hair.
He smiled. "Of course I am, I'm with a beautiful witch."
Rosalind's face flushed, her stomach fluttering. "She's lucky to be with you."
He kissed her on the forehead, taking notice of the booth in front of them. "What would you like me to win for you? An elephant, a bear or a penguin?"
"Hmm." She took a look at the western themed game with three rows of plates moving side to side, and a plastic gun to shoot them down. "A penguin."
"Consider it done." He walked up to the pimply teenage boy working the stand and handed him what looked to be too much change. George muttered something about American Muggle currency being stranger than Britain's. The boy handed him the gun and George began to shoot. He missed the first few but made the next shots perfectly, curving at an odd angle. In the end he knocked all but one plate down, winning the largest stuffed penguin in existence.
"For you madam," he said as he gave her the giant penguin. "Happy birthday."
Rosalind smiled, trying to hold onto the massive toy. It was so big she couldn't wrap her arms around it, let alone see where she was going. "Thank you but now I can't see," she laughed in a muffled voice.
George took it out of her hands. "Maybe I should've won you something more fun sized."
"I am not fun sized!" She elbowed him. "I wanted the penguin for a reason."
"And what is that?"
"They're cute. They also mate for life unlike most animals which I think is pretty cool," she admitted.
He wrapped his arm around her. "Wizards mate for life too you know." He walked them over to a more abandoned area where no one could see them. He observed her for a moment, eyeing her reaction. "Are you ready for our next stop? I hope you're hungry."
Rosalind nodded. "I'm starving."
"Well hold on tight, it's going to be a long ride," he said, producing the watch once more.
She snapped her eyes shut with hardly enough time to hold her breath, again thankful she didn't have more than a pretzel. A full minute later they stopped on uneven ground. She almost fell, completely surprised by the change of scenery. Cool, sea air filled her nostrils, and the peaceful crash of waves. Seagulls screeched, flying over their heads in search of food. She opened her eyes to witness the most glorious sunset she had ever seen: the sky was painted in pinks, oranges and every shade of crimson with strokes of blue and grey touching the edges, setting over the horizon.
"Wow," she breathed. "This is gorgeous."
George smiled, holding her tightly. "I told you I wanted to make today special." She looked up into his handsome face, kissing him lightly, heart panging in guilt.
He let go and started muttering incantations and a fire appeared before them along with a small grill. He threw a backpack to the side and a small tent grew out of it, complete with a chimney. George took a seat in the sand, grabbing a stick and setting a marshmallow on top of it, letting the fire roast it into mush.
"So I read about these American confections the other day called s'mores," he said as Rosalind sat next to him. "I believe they consist of marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate is that correct?"
"Yes," she laughed. "You've never had a s'more before?"
"Never ever."
"Let me show you how it's done then." She grabbed a slab of melting chocolate. "You let the marshmallow get toasty on the outside and then you move it like this," she slid his marshmallow onto the chocolate and graham cracker, adding more on top. "And then you eat it. See?"
George looked at it curiously then took a bite. "Blimey, it's better than I thought it would be." He offered her a bite and smeared a piece of chocolate on her nose. "You got a little something there, sweetheart."
"Can you get it off for me?" she asked in an innocent voice.
George grinned, kissing her nose and then her lips. He tasted sweet, and comforting. He moved his body on top of hers, her back grazing the sand.
"Oh I think you might have some there too..." He kissed her neck. "And there." He kissed her collarbone. "And some right there." He moved his way down to her chest.
Rosalind giggled, looking into his gentle face. "You're adorable."
"And you're so beautiful," he whispered. He cupped her face, looking into her eyes adoringly. A moment passed between them, a tender moment where no words needed to be said. He sat up holding her in his arms. "We'll start dinner once the sun goes down," he said.
"Oh yeah? What's on the menu besides you?"
He shrugged. "Can't tell you."
Rosalind frowned before laying in his arms. Laying with George made the world seem so at peace. The sun set down slowly, radiating from their happiness. She sighed. The view was beautiful, the day was beautiful. And she didn't deserve it.
George kissed the side of her and stood up to conjure more food: roasted ham, potatoes, green beans, pie and wine. He popped the cork and handed her a glass.
"This is quite the dinner," she said in awe. "You really don't have to do all this just for me."
It was his turn to frown at her. "How many times do I have to tell you that I want to?"
She shrugged, looking down at the sand. "At least one more time."
George gazed down at her, watching her take small bites of her food. He took her hand squeezing it gently. "You'll know soon enough that not everyone is going to hurt you. I do love spending time with you."
She smiled timidly, her gut churning. "I love spending time with you too."
He smiled at her reassuringly. "Just let everything happen naturally."
"Alright," she decided. "I will."
"You should look up to the east in about five seconds," he said casually between bites. "There might be something you won't want to miss."
Rosalind dropped her fork, taking a look at the lighthouse on the eastern side. A thin figure was making its way across the sky, slithering its way through the stars. It had various shades of green, blue, yellow, purple, fading into every color of the rainbow. As it approached them it looked to be the head of a dragon; it opened its mouth at the sight of them, spurting faux flames into their midst, raining drops of fire.
"Fireworks?" she cried astonished. "Are these from your joke shop?"
George nodded. "Indeed they are."
She stood up to enjoy the light show: several more animals danced their way in from bears, wolves, lions, tigers, unicorns, along with smaller animals like rabbits and monkeys. They ran across the sand, shooting it into different directions before disappearing into thin air; once they were gone a display of blossoming flowers lit the sky, fire sprinkling into the ocean.
Rosalind laughed, dancing in the firelight. What looked like lightning bugs swirled around them, but were actually smaller fireworks.
"Did you do all of this?" she asked as she grabbed his arms, pulling him into a dance. "Is this all from your shop?"
"Most of it is, a lot of it is also new product. I needed to test it out and figured this would be the perfect occasion." He spun her out, twirling her back into his arms. "It's not bad so far."
"Not bad? It's brilliant!" she laughed again at the booming in the background. "I can't believe you do this all by yourself, this is so impressive."
George smiled, leading her into a slow dance as the lighting bug fireworks hovered by their heads, giving a romantic glow. "I'm not bad at magic when I try," he said, pulling her closer.
"Are you kidding? You're great at it. This is-this is the most fun I've had probably since I've moved here." She moved a ginger strand from his face. "Thank you so much. I really don't deserve you."
George rocked them back and forth, the fireworks beginning to fade. "Of course you are my love, you're worth every second." He leaned down, making Rosalind inch up on her tiptoes, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. He gazed down at her, taking a breath. "Would it be too forward to ask you if you'd like to stay the night here in the tent under the stars?"
Rosalind's heart fluttered, his heart beating against her ear. "I would love that."
George grinned, throwing her over his shoulders. "In that case let's get started." She kicked her legs, playfully hitting his back as he took them inside the tent.
What appeared to be a meager tent on the outside was in actuality a quaint cottage built for two. A fireplace crackled in the corner and a bed waited for them with an extra set of clothes.
"Are these yours?" she asked, picking up the maroon sweater and periwinkle blue button down. "They're way too big to be for me."
George's ear reddened slightly. "Well I was hoping I could find something your size but even Ginny is much bigger than you are."
Rosalind kissed him on the cheek. "I like this one." She tossed him the sweater and stepped over to the other side of the tent where she was somewhat hidden by a table to change. She glanced over at George who was already in sweats, just pulling over a sweatshirt. She took off her boots and undergarments, carefully sliding into his shirt. Cinnamon and sugar-it smelled just like him. She made her way back over to him as she finished buttoning the shirt, his eyes widening. She jumped on the bed on top of him, smothering him in a hug.
"You look damn good in my shirt," he observed as she started to kiss him. "You should wear that and nothing else more often."
"If we get to spend nights like these together I might," she teased, rolling by his side.
He grinned, crushing her in a hug. "There's not a moment when you don't look absolutely gorgeous."
She blushed. "I don't think I've ever blushed so much around someone before."
"I love it so keep it coming," he winked, causing her stomach to pulse.
Rosalind laughed, nudging her head in the crevice of his arm. Above their heads was a skylight, where they looked ahead at the clear midnight blue ocean.
After several moments he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about not being able to make it last night. It was a busy night and a toddler knocked over some sets of fireworks and they went off causing a ruckus and injuring another customer and an employee. I was going to send you a Patronous but ended up leaving you a note instead," he finished somberly.
"Why didn't you?" she asked hesitantly.
George's face quivered. "Patronouses can be used to send messages and I haven't attempted one since the Battle of Hogwarts, the night that Fred died. But I couldn't do it...I couldn't think of a happy memory. I couldn't even form a noncorporal Patronous. I-I didn't think that would happen."
Rosalind looked into his sorrowful eyes. She reached out her hand to try to comfort him, but he stiffened. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head. "No. There's nothing to talk about."
"But it's healthy to let out those emotions-"
"I said no alright?" he yelled, sitting up. "It's in the past. I can't do anything to change it." He looked angry that she even suggested the idea.
"Okay sorry for asking," she said in a small voice turning her back to him. "I won't ask again."
They were quiet for several moments. She could hear George muttering to himself before finally leaning his body over hers. "I'm sorry Rosie, that's such a touchy subject for me." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Can you forgive me?"
She looked back at him, seeing how regretful and uncomfortable he looked. "I guess I can forgive you this time," she said half-jokingly. "But I would appreciate it if you could open up to me sometime."
"I'm working on it," he said exasperated. "It's just-I've never opened up to anyone before. I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"Of emotion," he said seriously. "Of opening old wounds." He ran his fingers through his hair, mind racing. "But I'll try my best." He gave her a small smile and wrapped her in a hug. "You make it easier. You're worth it."
Rosalind smiled back at him sheepishly, unable to meet his gaze. "George I-"
"Yes?" he looked at her excitedly.
She paused, heart pounding. She should tell him. He deserved to know what happened with Draco. But this wasn't the right moment. She didn't want to ruin a perfect day. "I really appreciate everything you've done today. I don't know how to thank you."
He grinned. "By spending time with me and telling me how undeniably handsome you think I am."
"Easy," she laughed. He leaned down to give her a gentle kiss, followed by deeper, more intense kisses. She held onto his torso, wrapping her legs around him and kissing his neck as he did the same to her. She groaned as the kisses deepened, becoming more passionate.
George steamrolled her, tickling her and landing on top of her again, gazing into her eyes. "You are quite the sight when you're in my bed," he grinned in that attractive, droning voice of his.
"I'll make sure not to leave then," she breathed. He kissed her once more, wrapping her in his arms as they fell asleep.
Rosalind could feel his broad smile even with her eyes closed. "Goodnight love." He kissed the back of her head and they dozed off, the stars twinkling above them, watching them through the night.
Waves crashed gently onto the sea-worn rocks as the sun gazed over the bodies in the tent, casting warm rays to awaken them. Rosalind stretched her limbs, groaning about how bright it was. A groggy George had tea and biscuits ready on the counter, bringing a steaming cup to Rosalind as she sat up in the bed.
"Good morning gorgeous," he grinned as he handed her the tea tray. "Sleep well I hope?"
Rosalind smiled, tucking a frizzy curl behind her ear. "I did thank you, how about yourself?"
"Just peachy," he winked as he took a sip. He waved his wand as the mouth of the tent opened, the whispers of the ocean bursting into the room, breathing in cool air.
"What are your plans for today, love?"
She shrugged. "I think I'm going to make a stop by Hogwarts and surprise my sister. I haven't seen her in a while." She glanced at her watch, reaching over to her clothes to change. "I should probably head over there soon, I want to catch her on a good time."
George smiled kindly, gazing into her dark eyes. "I won't be offended if you leave. I know you miss her."
"Thank you George, really. For everything. You are way too nice to me." He embraced her into a tight hug, planting a loving kiss onto the top of her head.
"I care about you that's why." A glimmer of affection flickered over his eyes. "Don't have too much fun, love."
"I'll try not to," she smiled. She sucked her breath and closed her eyes, leaving with a faint popping sound, bringing the sinking feeling of dread with her.
Hogsmeade village was already twinkling with holiday spirit: copper colored leaves crunched at the bottom of Rosalind's feet as she paced the street, and several pumpkins and wreaths decorated the tiny shops. She greeted the old wizard by the train station before making the trek up to Hogwarts Castle. She inhaled the crisp air, sighing once she reached the tall oak doors. After a brief conversation with Argus Filch she made her way through the foreign building, navigating the ancient corridors. Students were spilling out of the Great Hall, indicating the end of lunch. Rosalind leaned her back against the wall towards the east side of the door hoping to catch Emma.
A flood of tiny first and second years were at the head of the pack, splitting into four groups into their respective houses. Mutterings grew louder as some students shoved around some of the smaller bodies, chanting a phrase Rosalind had never heard before. A circle gathered around two young girls, the dog-faced one shot a yellow spell at the other, causing her bag to rip and break the contents on the floor. The group laughed, pointing at the girl on her knees struggling to pick up her belongings, not fighting back.
"Hey! That wasn't very nice!" the second girl sputtered.
"Fight back!" the bigger girl sneered. "Or are you too scared?" she waved her wand with a cackle, levitating the girl's glasses off her face.
"I can't see without those!" the second girl whimpered as she jumped up and down as her glasses hung higher above her head. "I need them!" Her books split open on the floor causing the group to laugh harder. "Please!"
Rosalind's heart dropped when she saw the familiar face: Emma's lips were quivering as she tried hard not to cry while her fellow classmates mocked her. A fit of rage bubbled through her as she waved her hand, causing the young girl's wand to fly across the end of the hall.
"What do you think you're doing?" she growled louder than she anticipated, using every ounce of strength she had not to grip the girl's throat. "You want to duel someone? Why won't you fight fair?" She stood at her full height in front of the girl who was only two inches shorter than her.
The young girl's eyes widened as soon as she realized she was wandless. "What's it to you?" she asked with false confidence. "You can't do anything to me, I'm a kid."
"You think that's going to-"
"Miss Morana, I suggest you step away from Miss Parkinson before another word is said," a stern, authoritative voice commanded. Rosalind's breathing tensed but she dropped her shoulders to face Professor McGonagall.
"I apologize Professor." She grit her teeth into a false smile as the headmistress cocked her eyebrow.
"I expect to see the three of you in my office immediately." She stared straight at Rosalind as young Parkinson grinned, trotting after the professor.
"The three of—?"
Rosalind glanced over at Emma who was on the cold stone floor picking up her belongings. Her glasses were cracked in the corner creating a spider web effect, illuminating her embarrassment as she averted her sister's eyes. Deciding to deal with her later, she shifted her attention to the girl besides them.
"You're Pansy Parkinson's sister?" she questioned the dog-faced girl.
She squinted her pug nose in the air, twiddling her wand. "That I am. How are you two acquainted?"
"We happen to be friends, actually. She's never mentioned you."
Parkinson's arrogance faded. "She doesn't talk about me much."
"Was she a bully too or did you learn that on your own?"
The girl's face twinged but she held her composure as she climbed the spiral staircase into the headmistress' office, ignoring Rosalind. She let the girls talk to McGonagall first before she spoke to her and Emma by herself. As she waited in a separate area of the office, she glanced around the oval area. Several ancient artifacts sat undisturbed in glass cases as others whirled around the room. Rosalind heard a shuffling and a cough that caught her off guard-she was the only body in the room. Specks of dust fell on her nose and she glanced up to see an ancient hat shaking what would be its head, opening a beady pair of eyes.
"You're Morana's sister aren't you?" the hat asked inquiringly.
Rosalind stared at the hat in disbelief. "How'd you know that?"
The hat chuckled. "I am the Sorting Hat dearie, I hear everything."
Rosalind eyed the hat curiously. She had heard of it but had no idea where it was kept. "How is she doing?" she finally asked.
The brim of the hat curled in the edges, as if shrugging. "She is adjusting as best she can. It is hard to adjust when one cannot remember segments of their lives."
Her stomach dropped. "What do you mean?"
The hat grinned. "I remember the memories and thoughts of every student that has stepped through this castle, even what they believe is not real. You did quite the number on her."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said flatly.
"No?" the hat chuckled again. "Why don't you go ahead and give me a go? I could give you insight as to what House you would have been Sorted into."
"Why?"
"You've never been curious?" The hat stared at her blankly, almost grinning. She grabbed it and placed it on her head quickly, suddenly filled with a lightheaded, odd sensation of the hat sensing all of her emotions and memories. It felt dirty, like a loss of control.
"Aaahhh, interesting," the hat whispered. "Many traits that I sensed earlier...very ambitious, there's no doubt about that but very clever as well." He inhaled, as if breathing in her essence. "Slytherin would be an easy choice for you."
I'm not a Dark Wizard, she thought. That's not where I belong.
The hat laughed once more. "Not all Slytherins are Dark Wizards. Not that you have a clean past any how. What will little Emma do when she finds out what you did to her?"
Rosalind threw the hat back onto its shelf in anger. "She won't find out anything."
The hat smiled. "The guilt is killing you."
Pansy's younger sister emerged from the other end of the room with her chin on her chest. She took a small glance at Rosalind before departing for the spiral staircase. McGonnagall's pursed lips pointed in her direction and she sat down in the chair next to Emma.
"While I encourage family bonds I do not encourage bullying and rough housing," she began with a raised brow. "I understand the compassion you have for your sister Miss Rosalind but I cannot have you visiting Hogwarts if you will be harassing my students."
"But Professor I couldn't let someone talk to her like that-"
"These are my students, Rosalind, not yours." The Headmistress's face was stern, her eyes hawk-like on the older sister.
Rosalind clenched her fist, then sulked into the chair. "Understood, Professor. I'm sorry."
"Hmph," McGonnagall continued. "Now, I cannot punish you but I can ask you to leave. I'll leave you two alone for a moment." The Headmistress motioned for the door and both Rosalind and Emma walked out.
Emma pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, books in hand. She averted her eyes from her older sister, clutching her books into her chest.
"How long has this been happening?" Rosalind demanded.
"Not too long," Emma said sheepishly, still avoiding her gaze.
"How long, Emma?"
She shuffled her feet. "I don't know. Not too much later than after we got here."
"Why didn't you tell me anything?" she asked, her voice cracking.
"Because." She squinted, causing her glasses to fall. "You can't do anything about it. I didn't think you'd care."
"What?" Rosalind exclaimed, pained. "Of course I care Emma, you're my sister!"
Emma wiped away a faint stream of tears from her face, taking a seat on a stone bench. "Nothing." She hiccuped, taking her glasses off to wipe away her tears. "Th-they make fun of me a lot. They don't get it."
Rosalind sat down next to her sister slowly. "Get what?"
"How-how they died..." she sniffled. "How did they die in a house fire if there were wizards? It doesn't make sense."
Rosalind's stomach dropped. "How doesn't that make sense? Wizards have died that way, especially if Fiendfyre is involved-"
"But was there? We don't know anything we just left!" Emma slammed her fists on the concrete. "We didn't have a funeral for them, we didn't say goodbye, we didn't do anything! We just left!" Her small chest heaved quiet sobs. "Why, sissy?"
The elder sister clenched her jaw, gripping her fingers against her robes. "Because," she said carefully. "There was nothing there for us. We couldn't have done anything...we had no home. It wasn't safe there anymore."
"So why did we move here?" Emma cried, eyes reddening. "Of all places why London, because you always wanted to go to Hogwarts?"
"It wasn't safe for us to be there anymore, and I wanted to move someplace that would be good for you," Rosalind answered softly.
Emma looked up at her older sister's eyes. "I feel like you're not telling me something."
Rosalind's heart thumped. "Why? Where did this come from?"
"I'm tired of being sad all the time," she said in a small voice. "I thought...I thought it would be easier by now."
"Oh Emma," Rosalind sighed, pulling her into a hug. "It will get easier, I promise. Eventually it'll just be a distant memory." She gave her a tight squeeze as Emma sobbed into her shoulder.
"I just w-wish it would end." Her voice was faint, eyes bloodshot.
"It will, don't worry." Rosalind felt around for her wand in her robe, slipping it out quickly. Emma shifted her body away, adjusting her glasses again. Rosalind raised her wand hesitantly next to her sister's temple.
Emma stopped in her tracks in disbelief. "No sissy, stop," she pleaded. "Please don't do this-don't h-hurt me!" Her tiny body quivered. "Please don't do this!"
"I'm not going to hurt you!" Rosalind cried, choking back tears. "I would never hurt you!"
Emma pressed her hands against her ears, gripping her eyes shut. "LIAR!"
Rosalind pressed her wand against little Emma's face, hands shaking, the voice of the Sorting Hat ringing loudly in her ears: What will little Emma do when she finds out what you did to her?
So you have now officially met Emma! Their relationship unfortunately is a bit strained-but Rosalind knows that sending her to Hogwarts was the best thing she could've done for her. And although she didn't know she was kissing Draco, she definitely should tell George. Thank you for reading!
Next chapter: Runaway.