Chapter Two

Building A Mystery

'Cause you're working

Building a mystery

Holding on and holding it in

~Sarah McLachlan, Building a Mystery

"He's too cute!" The loud, high-pitched squeal cut through Rose's pleasant dreams and reverberated through her skull. Her brain was still muddled by sleep, but she was conscious enough to plan at least two ways she was going to kill Carly. Rose only had ten more minutes of sleep left, but the rosette valued her sleep even above her school performance. She squeezed every ounce of sleep out of every morning, and now that Carly had deprived her of it, the loud-mouthed, dark-haired girl deserved to feel excruciating pain.

"I wish my boyfriend sent me flowers. He never does anything romantic like that! Maybe we should break up," Lauren, one of Rose's other roommates commented. Gasps sounded from the other three and were instantly followed by vigorous dissuasions.

"Laur," Carly spoke above the other two, "you can break up with him if you want, but you can't do it before Valentine's Day. Being single on a day devoted to love and romance is so sad and depressing."

Even though Rose was supposed to be asleep in the minds of her roommates, she couldn't help but feel that Carly's comment was directed at her and not Lauren. Of the five Ravenclaw girls, Rose was the only one without a boyfriend. It seemed she was missing the gene that made her want to couple up; she was one of the only ones in her year to be single.

Finally, Rose figured she should start getting ready for class and rolled out of bed. She ignored her roommates, who continued excitedly discussing the romantic things their boyfriends did and their plans for Valentine's Day. Instead, Rose grabbed her clothes and locked herself in the bathroom. She could honestly say, Friday could not be over soon enough.

Rose sat in her Arithmancy class; her one period free of her love-obsessed roommates. She was glad for the reprieve from boyfriend talk. However, she hadn't fully escaped the romance chatter as her classmates busily discussed the upcoming dance. Rose felt like she was an outsider in a place that had previously been her second home; she felt like she was in a small boat rocking on the ocean, fighting in vain to bail out the never-ending onslaught of water that threatened to capsize her.

"Can I sit here?" a voice asked from over her right shoulder. She looked up from her parchment and saw a nervous looking Scorpius Malfoy. Rose knew he was in the class with her, but he usually sat on the other side of the room with his friends. She quickly glanced over to the Slytherin section and saw the two Slytherin females in that class deep in conversation. Instantly, Rose knew they were swept up in the same insanity of the rest of the school.

"Of course," Rose responded, moving her bag out of the way. She hadn't really interacted with Scorpius much –they definitely weren't friends- but Rose was willing to help a fellow non-romantic, no matter what. If he wasn't going to discuss love or anything associated with it, he was welcome. However, the camaraderie provided by their shared aversion of amour was not enough to resolve the silence that fell between the two at the end of their short exchange.

Before the silence between them became overbearing and awkward, Professor Hodgekins swept into the room and began her lecture. As magical number theory was rapidly explained and discussed, Rose's worries evaporated and her sole focus became the lecture at hand.

Rose wished that the school would return to normal. There had always been love and romance in the halls of the old castle, but it had occurred only in minute doses, affecting minimal amounts of the student body. It had never permeated this deep. Previously, people were not always discussing it, worrying about it, and focusing solely on it.

The class ended much too soon for Rose's liking. It was her last class of the day, her last reprieve from madness. Now she had no shelter to escape to, no other area to focus on and loose herself to. She would have to face her roommates and the rest of the school.

Begrudgingly, she began to pack up her books, taking extra time to postpone the inevitable. Scorpius finished his packing much before she did and whispered a goodbye before he left. Rose would have loved to be able to spend more time with Scorpius, one of her only equals in matters of the heart. However, their previous lack of communication made the option very unlikely.

She was busy imagining the intelligent, compelling conversations she could have with Scorpius, when, lost in thought as she was, she collided with something solid and sent her meticulously packed books sprawling throughout the hallway.

"Good god Rose, who has you so distracted that you ran right into me!" the loud voice of Caroline Meyers called. Rose, who had landed on the ground with the force of the collision, simply groaned at her misfortune. Of course she would run into Carly. Of course it would be while she was distracted. Of course Carly would assume that meant she was thinking about a boy and was therefore unable to function normally.

"I was thinking about my homework, Carly," Rose responded, standing up and dusting herself off before she went in search of her books. It was a lie, but Carly would not be able to take the truth as it was. Just because Rose was thinking about Scorpius did not mean she fancied him, wanted him to be her boyfriend, or anything else for that matter. Girls could think about boys for completely innocent reasons, no matter what Carly believed.

"Sure you were Rosie. I know boy-distraction when I see it. No one, not even the queen of the nerds Rosie, can get that lost in thought over schoolwork. A member of the opposite sex was definitely involved in this collision." Carly bent down to help collect some of the pieces of parchment that littered the hallway. On her return to standing, she paused, reading one of the documents. Rose, noticing the strange behavior, was instantly concerned, for her own sake.

"You okay, Carly?" Rose asked hesitantly. Carly straightened and turned to Rose, her motions robotic. The dark haired girl fixed the rosette with a death glare that sent shivers running the length of Rose's body.

"Someone has been writing you love poetry and, not only haven't you told me, but you've continued to act like you're above all of us who have found love." Carly's words were cold as ice.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rose responded, her confusion not feigned.

"This," Carly responded, waving a piece of parchment in front of her face.

"Carly, that's just notes from class. Give it here so I can read it and explain it."

"Oh no, Rosie. I'm not returning this to you just yet. The others deserve to know how much of a hypocrite you are!" With that, Carly turned on her heel and darted down the hall towards the Great Hall. Rose, her books left forgotten, took off after her friend.

Rose arrived to the Great Hall significantly after her friend; Carly's love of athletics made her substantially faster than Rose and her love of books. She found Carly in the midst of the other Ravenclaw girls, their heads bent in discussion. At the sight, Rose contemplated whether or not she should forget the scrap, and leave the Great Hall. She knew it would only be postponing the inevitable, Carly and the others would eventually confront her about whatever was on that paper, but the idea of having a couple of hours reprieve was awfully appealing.

However, her decision was made for her when Ella looked up and straight at her. The usually quiet girl shot her hand up and waved at Rose, alerting the others to her presence. Rose swore under her breath and made her way to the table her roommates were seated at. Each step she took felt like she was walking through a thick, muddy bog.

"Hey Rose," Ella stated sweetly once Rose had taken her seat. Ella, no matter what the others felt or believed, would always give the benefit of the doubt and remain a steadfast and loyal friend. Rose really loved her for it.

"Hey Ella," Rose began, wondering what would happen if she just stopped there and didn't acknowledge the others. Deciding she was already in enough trouble with them, she continued on, "Carly, Laur, Gabby."

"Rose," Lauren and Gabrielle acknowledged together. Rose had never been as close to those two roommates as she was to Carly and Ella, but their greeting was almost frosty. She had been sure when Carly had run away that she wasn't truly upset; Carly was rarely ever upset. Now, she wasn't so sure. What was on that piece of parchment?

"Before you yell, at least let me read what's on that parchment," Rose spoke before the others could begin their assault. Carly thrust the paper into the rosette's face; in the movement, Rose discerned that Carly, unlike Lauren and Gabby, was not really mad at her.

Rose looked down at the paper in her hands. It was the same elegant writing that made up the poem from the night before.

The red rose whispers of passion,

And the white rose breathes of love;

O, the red rose is a falcon

And the white rose is a dove.

But I send you a cream-white rosebud

With a flush on its petal tips;

For the love that is purest and sweetest

Has a kiss of desire on the lips.

It was another love poem from her, for lack of a better word, secret admirer. That was why Carly had freaked out on her. The dark haired girl assumed that Rose was receiving these notes from a lover she refused to tell the others about and then continued acting like the others were stupid for their pursuits of love.

"It's not what you think it is," Rose began. She knew it would take more explaining than that, but she at least wanted to ensure her roommates would hear her out.

"Well it looks like a love poem, but if you swear its not," Carly began. She obviously only wanted to hear the story Rose was going to tell, still believing that it was from some secret lover.

"I've received two of those poems about roses in the past twenty-four hours. The first one I must have got while I was in the library yesterday and I didn't discover it until late last night. I didn't think much of it at the time; I thought it must have been a mistake. But now with this poem, I must have some sort of secret admirer. They randomly appear in my books and papers. I have no idea who is leaving them for me." Rose spoke in her most innocent tone and filled her voice with pleas of understanding.

Once she finished her tale, silence enveloped the small group. Rose, unconcerned with the reactions of Lauren and Gabrielle, turned to look at Carly. The other girl was keeping her features guarded as she took in Rose's story and weighed it for truthfulness. After nearly a minute, Rose was starting to panic. Carly never took this long to make up her mind; she usually went with her gut, which only took a few seconds.

Without any warning, a smile burst across Carly's face. Rose felt her stomach drop. Nothing good every came from such a smile.

"Rosie, you have a secret admirer!" Carly sing-songed, "someone wants to take you to the dance! This is so perfect! You won't be alone on Valentine's Day, after all!"

To be continued

A/N: Poem by John Boyle O'Reilly.