A/N: Oy! Trysomethingnew here! Just helping out my good friend Darious with this one, not that he needs it but he asked me to help out so here's my chapter, in the pov of Rose Weasley! Neither Darious or I own Harry Potter or their characters, though Julian is Darious'.
"It's no use Mum. I tried everything myself already. And I asked John to help. There's no way to change it back so will you just give it a—ow!" Rose winced as her mother tugged harder on her hair with the comb.
"You might have tried everything magical, but there are a few muggle tricks I remember that should work fine for removing unnatural hair color." The woman wasn't quite motherly-looking, except perhaps for the deep laugh-lines around her eyes and an extra warmth in her hands, though the warmth was not a gentleness as she lathered harsh-smelling liquid into her daughter's dark hair—much darker than it used to be, now in fact it was black—and muttering to herself.
"How you could have gotten a hold of those potions ingredients—must have been James playing a prank—from your uncle's shop, no doubt."
"Ow! Mum!" Rose ducked out of her mother's hands. "You're hurting me! And besides, black is a very natural hair color, there's no need to make a fuss."
Her father appeared at the doorway and sniffed. "Not in our family it's not."
"Only the Weasleys are all the same color hair. I'm not just a Weasley you know Dad." She looked down at his scowl. "I mean, it's not like I don't want to be a Weasley, I just—"
"I think I've done all I can for now." Her mother interrupted quickly. She took off the rubber loves she'd been wearing and brushed her hands together. "The color stripper should stay in for about half an hour; then we can rinse it. You just stay right there Rose, and don't move."
Rose looked incredulous. "For half an hour, you can't be serious. What am I supposed to do?"
Neither of her parents responded, instead they just left the kitchen in silence. The second they closed the door, Rose jumped off of her chair and pressed her ear against the wood of the door. Just as she'd expected they were arguing, about her.
"Are you sure she hasn't gotten one yet?" Her father's voice asked.
"I told you already no. This was an accident Ron, this has nothing to do with him and you know it!"
"And what about what she said before about being a Weasley? If she doesn't want—"
"Oh would you stop about that that wasn't what she meant and you know it. Isn't it obvious? She feels suffocated, she's felt that way ever since you sent for her to come home for Christmas her first year. Can you get over the fact that she got sorted into Ravenclaw for even one minute and think about what our daughter wants?"
"Our daughter!" This time her father's voice was shrill, and it frightened Rose. She'd never heard him try so hard to restrain himself. He normally just shouted until he said what he'd had to, then stomped around in the garden a bit until he felt better.
"She is our daughter, Ron. No matter what happened before, you were the one who was there for her, the one who was there for me! You are her father!"
There was a long silence, then a creaking noise, as if someone had sat heavily in one of the dining-room chairs. Rose strained her ears to hear what was next, but the voice was drowned out by a loud smack against the kitchen window. Rose rushed over to see what had happened, and opened the window, expecting to see Hugo laying on the ground on top of his broomstick. Instead a large creature flew into the window and perched on the table, hooting.
"Voric!" Rose squealed in excitement. She rushed over to a drawer where the family kept the Owl Treats. She fed a few to Voric before she took the letter from him, knowing how much Julian liked his owl spoiled. Reading the letter to herself quickly, she smiled and shoved it into her jeans pocket. Glancing out the window, she saw something moving down the street towards the house. An average-sized car with far too many hands waving out the windows towards her gave Rose an idea.
Hiding herself away from the window and waited for the doorbell to ring, Rose listened until she heard her mother answer the door, and when noise erupted in reaction to her relatives' arrival, she ran to the sink and rinsed her hair of the "color stripper" her mother had applied.
"Is it still black?" She whispered to Voric, who had finished his treats and was looking around the kitchen for more. He turned his head towards Rose long enough to click his beak, then went back to hopping around the kitchen for treats. The girl laughed and grabbed a few more treats from the drawer and gave them to Voric before he flew out the way he'd come.
It was only a few moments before the disruption in the house reached Rose, and suddenly she was accosted by the huge number of cousins she had. Almost all of them were red-haired, and even though not all of them were visiting—her uncles Percy, and Bill had most of their family either grown or had taken them out of the country for the holidays—there was still about six names to keep track of. Uncle George and Aunt Angie's Fred and Roxanne, were excited about the first time being away from their parents while the two went on a second honeymoon. Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny were here with their three; James, Albus and Lilly, and Rose's favorite Uncle Charlie had driven them all along with his only son, Jonathon.
"Oh my god! What happened to your hair Rose!" Somebody said as they all surrounded her in an attempt to crush her to death—or that's how it felt anyways.
"Leave her alone, it was probably just an accident."
"I can't believe it! I liked your hair before it was so pretty!"
"Dyeing a person's hair is a thing now though right? It's been fashionable with the muggles for decades now."
"Did you do it for a boy? Ohmigosh that is so cool!"
"We've got a regular rebel on our hands."
"I want to dye my hair blonde, but Mum says that's for tramps. I don't know if she meant the dye or just blonde hair…"
"Mum says a lot of things like that. I think she doesn't like most women… I like blonde hair a lot."
It went on like that for what felt like an eternity, and Rose knew that even if she wanted to, she would never get a word in. She sighed and ignored them all, staring out the window and wishing for the twenty third.