A/N: Sorry this update took so long. I've been feeling rather uninspired lately. But here it is: chapter seven.

Also, I will NOT be updating this story unless this chapter gets at least three reviews. Sorry if that sounds demanding but I have other things to tend to and if there aren't enough people interested in this story, I won't continue it. So please, if you're interested in this story, just leave a review!

Thank you!

Attention Slytherin House! I'd like to introduce to you our official Quidditch team this year:

Captain - Rosalie Flint

Seeker - Albus Potter

Keeper - Cadmus Galloway

Beaters - Merrick Roland; Elliot Guff

Chasers - Scorpius Malfoy; Corrin Vandevort; Rosalie Flint

Practices begin this Friday night at 6 pm sharp! Your schedule will be handed out then. Do not be late!

Stand Ins will be contacted later into the season.

My feet padded against the ground as I ran down the corridors silently. As much as I was ashamed of admitting it, tears were sliding down my cheeks and dripping from my chin as I scurried and came to a halt in front of a plain, large wall.

Heaving, I waited until a door came into view and I sighed: The Room of Requirements.

Pushing the door open, I was relieved to find a bed inside the silent empty room. I jumped onto it and crawled under the plain blankets, lying my head on the plush pillow.

There was no way in hell I was going back to the Slytherin Common Room. Matthias was sure to be sitting on the green couch, fuming and raging. I was too scared to even think about what he would do to me.

At that moment, I felt weak. Incredibly weak and exhausted. The weight of the previous events of the night was finally sinking in.

I couldn't stop sobbing heavily. It wasn't like in the movies, where the girl laid on the bed elegantly and cried beautiful, heart-jerking tears. No, it was one of those crying sessions filled with heavy sniffing, soaking wet pillows, and tons of snot. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. I couldn't put my brave face back on.

Obviously, tomorrow was going to be utter Hell. First, I was going to have to take the walk of shame back to the dungeons in the morning. Then, I'd have to face a storming and abusive boyfriend alongside two curious, sneering dorm mates.

But my mind refused to think. And all I could manage to do was lay there, sniffling, feeling the pains of being human weigh heavy on my chest.

Potter was avoiding me, which was new considering he was always up my arse when he was around. Sometimes, I'd catch him staring at me when he thought I wasn't looking, and it was starting to creep me out. I had planned on confronting him, but like I said, he was ignoring me. When Potter didn't want to be found, he simply wasn't found. Though I was extremely thankful that he had, indeed, kept his mouth shut about the previous weekend's unfortunate events.

The day went by agonizingly slow, every minute dragged out to its full extent. Pathetically, I continued to avoid Matthias like he was contaminated with the plague, which he wasn't taking well. Now, it was late at night. I wasn't sure of the exact time, but I could guess that it was probably around midnight.

I didn't know why I was sneaking out. Perhaps the thrill of it kept me on edge and refrained my thoughts from wandering to my full platter of problems. The adrenaline of hiding in the shadows and making crazy dashes to avoid Filch and his demon cat was exhilarating.

I found myself at the kitchens, wringing my hands as I took a seat on one of the counters. A house-elf soon Apparated into the room with a crack, looking at me with watery eyes the size of tennis balls.

"What can Polly do for the young miss?" it asked in a small, squeaky voice.

All of my life, I'd been ordering around house-elves without another thought. But as I watched the floppy eared elf in front of me, her innocent but loyal eyes looking up dutifully, I decided to actually be kind to her. "A waffle, please, Polly."

"Of course, miss."

"Thank you, Polly."

She stared at me for a moment before turning and preparing a waffle for me.

Random fact: I lovd waffles. Like, I'm-Not-Joking-I-Will-Crucio-You-For-A-Waffle addiction. So when Polly gave me a steaming hot waffle with syrup and extra whipped cream, I gave her a big fat kiss on her wrinkly head. And honestly, I didn't really kiss people. Not even Mother and Father. Polly flushed bright red and stood there for a full five minutes gaping.

Eating the delicious waffle, I sat on top of the kitchen counter with a confused expression on my face. I chewed thoughtfully, examining the past couple weeks I'd spent at Hogwarts.

I felt weird. Divergent. I felt divided and unpeaceful, like a war was going on inside of me. I thought about my family: Mother, cold-hearted; Father, nonchalant; Marcus, absent; Mariette, distant. I thought about my relationships here at Hogwarts: all fake and distrustful.

There was no love, or care, or any emotion. Except for lust and desire.

I briefly wondered how drastically different my life would have been if I'd befriended the Potters and the Weasleys. If I'f been sorted into Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw, or even Hufflepuff. Id I'd been born into a family that loved me and cherished me.

And at that moment, I felt despair. I was utterly alone.

Alone.

I didn't have much time to think, though. Because something interrupted my thoughts with a hollow thud. Popping my head up, I looked as the kitchen door flew open without any warning. No one stood behind the door, and for a second I stopped breathing.

There was an unmistakable rustling sound, and I could tell that someone else was now in or near the room. Quickly, I jumped off of the counter and ran towards the exit, only to fall backwards painfully, landing on my bum.

"Damnit! Ouch, that hurt! What the hell are you made of? Bricks?"

"What the-? Potter?"

The air was disruppted and all of a sudden Potter appeared, grinning like a fool. "Hey Rosie."

I stood swiftly. "How the hell did you do that?" I asked harshly.

"What? This?" He wrapped a cloak around himself and suddenly all that was left of him was his head. "Cool, eh?"

I was flabbergasted, to say the least. Finally, I started breathing again and shoved Potter in the chest hard. "Stupid git!"

He laughed, despite my furious glare. "So Flint. Sneaking off to the kitchen in the wee hours of the night? Quite the rebel now, are we?"

I rolled my eyes. "I could say the same thing, Potter."

He leaned against the kitchen wall with an arrogant smirk on his face. "Please, Flint. I've done this loads of times. But you... I've never seen you sneaking about before- Is that a waffle?"

Snorting, I said, "You have the attention span of a toddler."

He shrugged. "What can I say? Polly! Hit me up with one of your infamous waffles darling!"

Polly winked at him and said, with a swing of her hips and a flick of her wrist, "You got it, Mr. Bro!"

Potter laughed. "I taught her that. She won't drop the whole 'Mr.' thing though. We'll work on it."

The small house-elf began dutifully cooking once more.

I returned to my waffle, taking a bite. It had chilled considerably in the cold castle's draft, but it still tasted amazing. "So... you've been avoiding me lately." It wasn't a question, but more of a demanding statement.

Potter looked at me with large, brown eyes. "Me? Avoid you? Nooooo."

"Don't deny it!" I told him.

He pursed his lips. "Well, isn't that what you wanted?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but paused for a second. That was what I wanted, wasn't it? Of course it was! I'd been practically begging Potter to leave me alone all of my life! So why was I suddenly hesitating?

"Yes. That is what I wanted."

He started laughing again. "You're lying. You like my company. Everyone loves being with me." And he took a seat next to me with a steaming hot waffle of his plate, prepared exactly like mine.

I gaped at him. "You're kidding, right? I detest you being in my presence."

"Please," he chortled. "You're in my presence."

"You're such an arrogant pig," I said, wrinkling my nose.

"If you hate me so much, why haven't you left already?" he challenged, looking down at me.

"I was here first!" I told him defensively. "If anyone's going to leave, its you."

He took a bite of his waffle. "Goo' luck wif dat!"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I said, disgusted, but a grin tugging unexpectedly at my lips.

"You thound like my mu'," he said disdainfully.

I turned to look at him and my eyes widened. I suddenly started laughing, the chuckling errupting from me like an explosion. Not a cute giggle that most girls do, but I side-hurting, chest heaving, uncontrollable laugh. The fact that Potter had a moustache of whipped cream wasn't exactly that type of material, but I hadn't laughed in so long. It felt unfamiliar and foreign.

But it felt good.

"Wat?" Potter asked, chewing another huge bite of waffle. "Wat ith tho funny?"

Without thinking, I took my thumb and wiped the whipped cream from his upper lip. Then, realizing what I'd just done, I jumped off of the counter suddenly and awkwardly.

I was never awkward. And I was always careful. I always had my guard up, so why was being with Potter so different? I rubbed my forehead, some gross feeling settling in my stomach that made me uncomfortable.

He looked at me, his eyebrow raised. He wasn't eating anymore, just looking at me curiously.

"What are you staring at?" I finally snapped, the happiness now flushed out of my system.

"Merlin, talk about bipolar!" he said, watching me carefully. "Godric, Rosalie, what's with the mood swings?"

I ran my tongue over my teeth anxiously. "I don't know. Just... I've got to go." And without another word, I turned on my heel and left.

Using my mental scale, I compared two things the rest of the night: how I'd been feeling most of my life and what I felt just when I was with Potter.

What i had was supposed to be. What I was and how I acted and thought was expected of me. That was how I thought my life would turn out inevitably. It was my fate. I was destined not to be loved, but be obedient, diligent, and ambitious. I was brought in a way that made me cold.

But being with James Potter was strange. It was alien and unknown. He was different from what I was used to. I'd grown up hating him and all of the stereotypical Gryffindors. That's what I was supposed to do. Yet now, I was starting to wonder:

What if I had grown up hating the wrong people?

Because when I was with Potter, I didn't feel so alone after all.