A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who has read and reviewed this story! A special thanks to Jenn; your reviews make my day!
PS: I just want to let you guys know that somehow, I got mixed up with the chapter numbers and that this is actually the 14th chapter, but since I've been on this track for a while, I'm just going to keep it like this :)
Chapter 15
When I was growing up, I wasn't even allowed to look at Muggle-borns. Father addressed them as Mudbloods, and I spent my entire childhood believing that they were evil and shouldn't even exist. We were superior to them.
Homosexuality was frowned upon in society. Men were meant to be with women, and that was final.
Everything about Mariette and Sophie's relationship screamed wrong to me. I tried to understand what she was getting at, but I just couldn't wrap my head around it. But there was one thing I did understand, and that was the fact that Mariette was brave. And growing up in an insanely warped world didn't stop her from pursuing what she wanted.
"So, how long has this been going on?" I asked, looking at Mariette, and then to Sophie, and then back to my sister.
"Since sixth year," she replied honestly.
I nodded and crossed my legs anxiously. I was suddenly very uncomfortable with the situation unfolding in front of me. "Okay." I paused, staring back at the two in front of me, and then admitted, "I really don't know what to do."
"Please, don't tell Mother and Father," Mariette begged.
"I'm not that low," I snapped. "I just don't know how to react. I don't know what to feel."
"Be happy for me," she said, glancing at Sophie. "For us."
Standing up, I glared at her. "And when have you ever been happy for me, Mariette?"
Her jaw clenched and her looked down at her hands in her lap. When she didn't respond, I started for the foyer.
"This stays a secret. At least, for now it does. But you'd be a fool if you began to think I would just forget."
"Here's your book and your change, ma'am. Have a nice day," the elderly lady from behind the counter said, giving me a small smile.
I took the smalls coins into my hand and then grabbed the book. "Thank you."
Exiting Flourish and Blotts with a new book about Potions, I walked on to the crooked, cobblestone road and maneuvered around the crowds of people, shopping for Christmas gifts. My cheeks and nose were flushed from the icy weather outside, and the tips of my fingers were starting to numb. I gripped my coat, pulling it closer to my body in an effort to keep in the warmth I had earned in the tiny bookshop.
It was December 23, the day everyone did their last-minute Christmas shopping. That wasn't why I was there, but it was the reason that a vast majority of the shoppers were flailing around wildly, jumping from store to store, searching for bargains and sales.
I made my way over to The Leaky Cauldron, throwing the door open and stomping the snow off of my boots, like many had done before me. There was a build-up of brown slush by the entrance.
A fire cackled in the fireplace across the room, warming the whole room. It smelled like musk and alcohol in the Leaky Cauldron, but I had grown accustomed to the scent. As I walked over to the table by the groggy window, I passed a pair of witches talking about their children and two boys I recognized from Hogwarts, probably Gryffindors, playing with a new product from Zonko's. I sat at a shabby, wooden table, taking off my coat and placing my new book on the surface.
Ms Jemima Applebatton, a waitress at the Leaky Cauldron, made her way over to me, a smile on her face as she said, "'Ello, Miss Flint. How are ye doin' today?"
"I'm good, Jemima," I replied briskly. "How is your Christmas season faring?"
She rolled her squinty brown eyes. "Well, it's been busy, Miss, but nothin' I don't mind. Yolanda be bringing her new boyfriend to our Christmas dinner tomorrow night, so I'm preparin' me self for that."
"That's nice," I said sincerely. "Good for her."
"What can I get for you today?" she asked, whipping out her little pad and pen.
"Can I get a bowl of House Leaky Soup and a mug of black coffee?" I asked, looking up at the flustered woman.
She scribbled my order down hastily. "Of course, Miss. I'll be right aroun' with it."
"Thanks," I said as she hurried away. I made myself comfortable, opening my book contently and settling into my chair. I caught sight of several people that I knew, walking through the Leaky Cauldron and to the entrance of Diagon Alley. This group included Rachelle Davies and her mother, Jonathon Thomas with a friend I didn't recognize, and Louis Weasley with his sister Dominique. None of them saw me in the corner of the tiny pub.
Jemima swiftly brought me my coffee and soup, which I thanked her for gratefully. On a cold day, the Leaky Cauldron's soup was the best thing for a chilled soul.
I dug into my new Potions book, while eating the hot soup. My mind entered a whole new reality that centered around cauldrons, elixirs, and Potioneers, an exciting world I had always found interest in. I was engulfed in the book, that I didn't notice someone sneaking up behind me.
As I turned a page carefully, I heard someone speak. "Potions during Christmas break? You are mad."
I jumped back, recognizing the voice immediately. I dropped my soup spoon, letting it clatter on the table disruptively. "Potter!"
He grinned cheekily as he sat at the old table, across from me. I glared at him as he made himself at home. "So, Flint. What's up?"
Cocking an eyebrow, I replied hotly, "Nothing. Until you and your big nose showed up."
"I missed you too, Rosie."
"Don't call me that!" I flared. "What are you even doing here?"
"Well," he began, brown eyes fixed on me. "I was going to visit my dear Uncle George and his wonderful joke shop, but then I stumbled upon you and decided I should like to make trouble."
I rolled my eyes. "You are such a drama queen."
"Drama king," he corrected.
"No, I got it right the first time."
He watched me for a moment, before asking," What about you, you little lurker. What are you doing here all by yourself, tucked away in this dirty corner with a Potions book?"
I shrugged. "I was enjoying myself, actually."
"You're such a creep," he decided.
"Thanks."
We studied each other for a moment. I took another bite of my soup and then a sip of my coffee, which had cooled down considerably. Jemima bustled back over to my table, looking at James Potter curiously.
"'Ello, Mr. Potter. What can I do for ye?"
"He was just leaving," I interrupted pointedly.
"I think I'll stay a while," he said, smiling at me. "Can I have some tea, please? With cream and sugar."
"Of course, Mister," she said politely, walking off with another order.
"You little git," I muttered. "Don't you have any where better to be?"
He shook his head, messy brown hair shaking with it. He fixed his glasses thoughtfully. He didn't usually wear his glasses, I noticed, only when he had to or when he was feeling particularly lazy. "Nope. I'm meeting my family for dinner around 6. Until then, I'm totally and utterly free."
"Yippee," I said, my tone of voice lacking any enthusiasm.
"How about you? Got any big plans for today?"
"No. Even if I did, though, they wouldn't involve you," I snapped.
"Fair enough," he said calmly, still wearing that grin.
Silence ensued, until Jemima brought him his tea. He thanked her for it, shooting her a gracious smile, before she hurried over to another table.
I finished the last of my soup. "This is lovely and all, but I'm going to get going-"
"Hey James!" one of the Gryffindor boys yelled from the center of the room.
"Byron!" he greeted, apparently not entirely psyched to see them. I finally recognized who they were: Byron Adams and Gavin Peterson, two seventh year Gryffindors. Byron was tall and very muscular, with cropped brown hair and Gavin had tousled blond hair. He wasn't nearly as big as Byron, but he was definitely strong-looking.
"What are you doing over there? On a date, are you?" he continued.
Potter shook his head. "Uh, no-"
They made their way over to my table and, when they recognized me, sneered right in my face. "What are you doing with this scum?"
"Excuse me?" I growled.
"You heard me. What are you goin' to do about it, shortie?" he laughed, Gavin chortling behind him.
"I may be small but I can fucking kick your ass!" I hissed loudly, standing up and reaching my full height. I was, indeed, much shorter than him and obviously not as big. In fact, it was quite a pitiful comparison. Why was I doing this again?
Potter watched uselessly as a messy scene unfolded in front of everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.
"You want to go there, Flint?" he spat.
"Bring it on, Adams!" I shouted. Nobody insulted me, and I would fight until I was bloody and bruised to a pulp.
When he shoved my shoulders, knocking me back a step, Jemima stepped in between the two of us, scolding him. "Mr. Adams! We do not tolerate fightin' in the Leaky Cauldron, and we certainly will not accept bigger, stronger, older lads beatin' up ladies, even if they be provokin' them!"
Byron looked away from me, muttering a, "Yes, of course," and then a louder, "You better watch your back, Flint!" He and Gavin stalked out of the shabby pub.
"Stupid bastards," Jemima cursed. "Didn' even pay for their meals."
My temper stopped flaming, and I calmed down quickly. "I'm so sorry, Jemima. Here, I'll pay for their soup. It's my fault."
She accepted my proposal, and I paid for their soup, my soup, and my coffee. After she left, I turned around to grab my stuff, not even looking at Potter.
"Fat lot of help you were, Potter," I snapped venomously.
"What was I supposed to do?" he defended. "You made them angry!"
"They called me scum! You would've done the same thing," I told him irately. I started towards the back of the pub, trying to make my way back to Diagon Alley.
"Rosalie, wait-"
"Just stop!" I swerved around, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You know what, Potter? I get it. I know. You just didn't want to be seen with me by other Gryffindors. You were embarrassed. And you certainly didn't want to defend me in front of them."
He looked down at me with his brown eyes, no longer twinkling behind his glass lenses. He didn't say anything, because it was true.
Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't I understand it? Before entering my sixth year at Hogwarts, I could understand everything. So why was this different? Why was I being kept in the dark?
"I've gotta go," I lied, and left without letting him say another word.
What was I doing here?
Oh right. I was hiding from Matthias.
I had always been irked by Knockturn Alley, even though Father had insisted I forget every bad tale I'd heard about it. It was dark, damp, and the popular place to shop for object of the Dark Arts. But with a blind turn here and there, I had ended up closer to the dreaded alley than I had intended, and when I had spotted Matthias, the only place I could've taken quick refuge in was, well, you guessed it.
My feet slapped against the mismatched road as I passed the obscure and skeptical stores, wary of all of my surroundings. My heart was beating in my chest rapidly as I scuffled down the street in the shadows. Many odd faces caught my eye, and many strange persons watched me.
"Where are you heading, my love?" an old woman in a patched-up cloak croaked, beady black eyes staring at me.
"No where in particular, ma'am," I muttered, shirking away from her as quickly as possible.
"Lost, girl?" a large, bearded man shouted boisterously, obviously drunk. "I can help you!"
"No, thanks. I don't need any help."
Gods, I was freaked out. I felt trapped and cornered by all of the strangers in Knockturn Alley. I tried to keep my head held high and stay away from anything that appeared suspicious.
It wasn't long before I reached an empty, dingy place. I was cut off from the main alley way, and I had somehow managed to end up utterly lost, on an abandoned side road. All of the stores were boarded off, out of business and housing many rodents and stray cats. Fliers and pieces of the Daily Prophet floated aimlessly around, dating back to a couple of months ago, even years back.
Warily, I continued down the road, hoping I would come out at a main road or something. But, ten minutes later as I kept searching, I heard a shout. Not just any shout, but the yelp of a young girl.
"Get away from me!" she yelled, fiesty.
I couldn't pin point the location, though, so I perked my ears up and tried to find out what was going on, and where.
"Watch it, princess," a voice growled. "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."
"What do you mean, you nitwit?" she retorted.
"You're one of Potter's offspring, no?" he stated.
"Lily Potter?" I whispered, standing in the center of the street, dumbfounded, before my reflexes kicked into action. I started running, without thinking, trying to find her and the stranger who was threatening her. I gripped my wand tightly, eyes scanning my surroundings.
"If you don't leave me alone, I'll scream," she told him bravely. Well, there was a reason she was sorted into Gryffindor.
"Nobody will hear you, little girl. You're all mine. I can finally begin avenging my Lord."
A piercing screech errupted into the air, after a rough voice yelled, "Crucio!"
Heart throbbing, palms sweating, legs shaking, I ran around frantically, searching desperately for Lily Potter. Finally, in a little cut-off, I caught a flash of red. I swiftly spotted her, cringing on the ground as the man attacked her with the Unforgivable Curse. She writhed in utter pain, twisting unnaturally on the ground as she tried in vain to put out the excruciating hurt. The man didn't notice me, an ugly smirk on his face as he tortured Lily.
"Incarcerous!" I said forcefully, watching as ropes ejected from the tip of my wand, tying around the man tightfully and knocking him onto the ground. His face was shocked as I approached him, my lips forming a frown as I eyed him cautiously. "Torturing little children with an Unforgivable? I think the Ministry will be very unhappy to hear about this."
"Who the bloody hell are you?" he sneered through cracked lips. His face was covered in smudges of dirt and grim. He wore ragged, dirty clothes and a ripped overcoat. On his balding head was an old cap.
Instead of dignifying his question with a response, I muttered a spell that knocked the man out. His face drooped and he became immobile.
"Lily? Lily?" I ran over to her side. She laid on the ground, her skin a sickly pale and drops of sweat breaking out on her forehead.
"Wha'?" she asked groggily, eyes shut tightly.
"I'm going to get help, Lily," I tried to tell her, but she really wasn't in the mood for listening. I didn't know her. I had never spoken with her, and I had barely glanced at her in the halls of Hogwarts.
I didn't even know where to start.
"How is she?" I asked the matron at St. Mungo's urgently, trying to peek behind her.
"Miss Flint, try to restrain yourself," she told me sternly. "Miss Potter will be fine, and she is to be released later tomorrow morning. But I'm glad you were smart enough to bring her here."
I nodded. "Right. Okay. Of course."
The doors burst open and a man with worried, piercing green eyes and a lightning bolt etched onto his forehead ran over to the nurse. Behind him trailed a lady who greatly resembled Lily.
"Li- Lily," he panted. "My daughter. Came as fast... fast as I could!"
"Mr. Potter, please calm down," she said tightly. "Try not to disturb the other patients."
"The other patients?" he roared. "This is my daughter we're talking about! What happened?"
"I don't know the full story," she said tiredly. "Ask this young lady - she's the one who brought Lily in."
Both sets of eyes landed on me. For the first time, they noticed my presence. Mr. and Mrs. Potter watched me intently. "Who are you?" Ginny Potter asked me.
"Rosalie Flint, ma'am," I told her quietly.
"Rosalie Flint?" Harry Potter said, startled. "You're Rosalie Flint?"
"What happened?" Ginny continued.
"Well, I was lost in Knockturn Alley," I began. "I was wandering around and I heard a scream, so I decided to investigate. There was a man - a big bloke. He had cornered Lily and said something about "avenging his Lord" or... yeah. He used the Cruciatus Curse on her. So, I tied him up and knocked him out, and then brought Lily here. The Ministry has him in custody now."
"Oh, Gods," Ginny said, hiding her face into Harry's shoulder. Tears were flowing freely and unashamedly down her freckled cheeks. They stained Harry's shirt. He turned and stuck out his hand.
"How can we ever thank you?" Harry asked me graciously. "I can't imagine what would've happened if you hadn't shown up."
"Yeah," I said awkwardly, shaking his hand briskly. "Um, well, I'm done here so I'm just going to go now-"
"Not so fast, Miss Flint. The Ministry would like to ask you a few questions," a woman said, approaching us swiftly. She blond hair was tied into a tight ponytail and she wore loose blue robes with black boots. "Auror Sylvie Dupont. I'm here to escort you to the Ministry."
"That's not necessary," Harry objected. "She saved Lily."
"I'm sorry, Monsieur Potter, but that's not your call," she hissed, a French accent lacing her words. "Come with me, Miss Flint. We will contact your parents when we arrive. I'd like to let you know that you are not in any trouble. We are just trying to sort out everything."
I nodded. I walked with her towards the doors, but not before I caught the eye of a frantic James Potter, who's expression turned to confusion as I walked past him with a slight frown on my face.