Most characters and places in this story belong to J.K Rowling.

Chapter 4

Rose stared in utter shock and surprise at the slip of paper in front of her. She read it, then reread it again, then reread it over for the fifth time already. It was like what she had wished for had come true, in a small, unnoticeable way…..to others, probably. But to her…it was like the best thing that had ever happened…..almost. Nothing could beat the time when Hugo was born…..

Rose Weasley,

"If you are good, life is good."-Roald Dahl, Matilda.

Rose, I know perfectly well that this sounds odd, but..I have a question I have been longing to ask you ever since you nearly tipped into your pot of Amortentia. You see, I am doing a survey for muggle studies, and my chosen topic is "What is the most common smell in Amortentia?", and I was very intrigued when I saw you brew the potion. Many others couldn't even recognize the rare ingredients, let alone brew a proper potion with the qualities of Amortentia. Then again, you always were a bright student. Like Roald Dahl said, "If you are good, life is good."

Sincerely,

Backwards A,N.

Rose stared at the letter. What ever did the writer mean? Backwards…A, N? She had never heard of such a pen name before…maybe they were initials? Whoever this was, she most certainly did not want others in Muggle Studies to find out what attracted her. She meant-who even chose these kind of topics, anyway? The most popular would be animals and food…but this..this was very odd, like the sender had confessed. Maybe the writer was just interested in potions, and wanted to mix Muggle Studies with it? Was that even allowed in muggle studies? She hoped not. But Rose was still intrigued by the use of quotes and the compliment before it…..she had never felt so appreciated. Really, it sounded cheesy when she thought of it, corny too, but she never really had a friend besides her relatives.

Rose turned to find the owl waiting, its wide, silver eyes staring up at her in a look she could not describe on an animal. It was almost…..human. NO, rose, its an animal. A very beautiful one, at the most. Should she write the writer back? Would she write the writer back? Was this a prank? Was this a joke? Was the writer a boy or a girl? Rose chewed on this thought for a couple of minutes. It wouldn't hurt to write back-it was just a survey, after all. No need to get excited about it-just typical Hogwarts school work. She couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as she pulled out a sheet of parchment to reply. She would-what prefect would she be to not answer a student in need? A student who was really very flattering….She shook that awkward thought out of her head, and aimed her ink dipped quill at her blank yellow parchment.

Rose thought for a moment, and started to scratch her quill against the paper to form words that she had thought through. She would answer with a quote, just like the writer had done.

Backwards A,N,

"The power of doing anything with quickness is always prized much by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance." Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice.

Not to sound like a prude, but remember what Jane Austen told us- don't rush things over, you'll have a better outcome with patience. In your situation: Don't hasten to finish your project, I'm sure many others were very capable of finishing the Amortentia potion. Anyway, about what I smell…..new houses, my grandma Molly's homemade pumpkin pie, and that's all. Nothing else, I assure you. I just wanted to ask you something that you've possibly even asked yourself: Why ever did you choose such an overwhelming and difficult topic? Don't get me wrong, I love the originality, rebellion, and challenge of a topic like yours-but- most people taking classes and doing project like yours would typically aim for an easier, more boring topic that would take less time and effort to complete. Concluding my thoughts, I hope you earn a wonderful grade on your Muggle Studies project.

Good luck,

Rose Weasley

Rose quickly checked for any spelling errors, and, satisfied with her completion, gently tied the parchment to the owl's leg and watched as the owl looked back once, eyes connecting with Rose's brown ones, and flew off. The starry night sky reflected in her wide pupils, and her thoughts returned to Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius Malfoy. That boy certainly was mysterious…if not too solemn, still, and grave-well, for the fifth year and this one. What ever had happened to him? Had he suffered the loss of someone near and dear to his heart? Or had he…had he.. really changed?

Rose felt alarmed at even suggesting such a ridiculous thing. He probably hadn't changed- in the fifth year, she had seen him play pranks on people before. But one thing that struck her odd, something that she would never admit to anyone else, not even Albus, was that- she was impressed at how good he could keep up with her and retort. She didn't like the feeling of waiting for someone else to quickly draw up a dull retort, none like the quick, witty ones Scorpius and Rose exchanged.

She fell back onto her satiny smooth bed, and opened the letter once again. She studied the graceful, thin, elegant writing, the perfect mix between cursive and regular print. She herself had handwriting very similar to this-but she had to admire the hand of the writer. He or she had certainly had practice with writing-and the art of literature.

As Rose got ready for bead and threw the covers over her body, she found she couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts were on her mind- the O.W.L's, one month away, the strange-human-like owl and its owner, her prefect duties, Darfsthow and her Malfoy issues, her weak social life, and…a pleasant scent she should not have smelt in Amortentia. It wasn't real-it was probably a malfunction or something…or was it?

Rose awoke to the sound of canary's chirping happily though her window, and she looked around, confused. She hadn't remembered falling asleep last night. She probably had gotten tired or something. Rose quickly threw on her school robes, and struggled to push her hair into a low ponytail, not bothering to look in the mirror as she stepped down past the common room into the great hall. Many other witches her age absolutely loved to brush makeup on their faces, but Rose found that she rather despised it. She didn't know how it made you look any different-if not more like a raccoon, or an overdressed Barbie doll.

People had already begun to eat, and Rose sat in between Roxanne and James, feeling distracted as she looked back to the Slytherin table. Yes, the legendary Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the chosen one- had a son in the house of Salezar Slytherin. Yup, the same house that housed Draco, Lucius, and Narcissa Malfoy, the same house that provided sleeping quarters to pureblood Rodolphus Lestrange and Bellatrix Black, the very same house that Voldemort himself pranced around in. Rose sighed, her feelings somewhere in between disbelief and pity. Sure, Albus had been very, very, very, very, frightened when the Sorting Hat made its decision, but he had quickly made friends with someone who just shouldn't have ever met her cousin. Scorpius Malfoy, in the living flesh.

Albus was smiling and chatting with Malfoy, pretending to ride a broom- probably telling his worn out quidditch stories of the time he miraculously caught the snitch 'right before that amateur smacked me'. Rose had heard them, way too much. She tried to focus on her toast, but always found her mind drifting to the other table. What was wrong with her? She wasn't the type of girl that fainted over boys and wore ridiculous, skimpy clothing to expose unnecessary skin. She wasn't the girl who smeared makeup all over her face, partying all night and being victim to hangovers by early morning. She wasn't a prude, wasn't uptight, she was just Rose. In the middle, she supposed. She wasn't dramatic…..she really wasn't sure who she was. Every thing that anyone had commented nicely about her to her face was- smart. Attentive in classes….that sort of 'nerdy', 'geeky' stuff. Truth was, she wasn't a geek, or a dork, or a know it all. She just had the talent of actually paying attention in class, other than passing notes, holding hands underneath the table, or gossiping about the new issue of Witch Weekly. It was sickly how many girls were obsessed with this- she could only be bewildered and amazed at how much more effort they put into their looks, rather than into their studies.

Rose sighed, and shoved her books into her bag, preparing to go to class early. She couldn't eat much, anyway. She had double Defense against the Dark Arts next- and she couldn't wait to see what they would learn.

"Attention, students!" Professor Ammerby shouted over the class.

"Today we shall learn the expelliarmus spell- everyone, pair up!" Professor Ammerby ordered.

Rose glanced around, and was dismayed to see that Albus had already been taken by a crazy fan girl. She turned and pulled Lily out of the writhing crowd, to be her partner.

"Now, on three- one, two,-" Professor Ammerby's word's were cut off by a shriek, and a shatter.

All heads turned towards the still body on the ground, obviously stupefied and expelliarmused. Rose did not stir, nor did she open her eyes- Lily and Albus rushed towards her to drag her limp body to Madame Pomfrey. They did not know who had cast those spells, nor did they know why.

Lily gritted her teeth as she struggled to keep Rose up. "I am so going to hex that blockhead who decided to do this to her- she fell pretty hard." Albus nodded vigorously, and they continued to struggle.