A/N: Sorry this took so long to update; I accidentally deleted the chapter. Twice. I suck at using technology. I'm, like, the worst teenager out there XP Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story! You guys make my day (no, literally - I sit in front of the computer smiling like a doofus)!

A/N II: Make that three times... -_-

Chapter 17

My heels clicked against the cold tile flooring as I left the court room, gnawing at the inside of my cheek nervously. The screams and yells of a wanted criminal on his way to Azkaban chilled me to the bone, goosebumps rising on my skin. I ripped my hair at of it's formal up-do quickly, letting my dark locks fall on to my shoulders. My hands were shaking and my stomach felt weak as I pushed my way through the thickening crowd.

"Flint!" a familiar voice called and I halted. Why did he always show up at the worst times? His hand reached towards my shoulder, turning me around. "Rosalie," he breathed, looking down at me with those brown eyes.

"What?" I said. It sounded strangled.

"Lily," he said. "She wants to see you. And Mum and Dad, they want to meet your parents."

I swallowed uncomfortably. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" he asked, confused.

"I just need to go."

"No, don't. Where are your mum and dad?"

I wringed my hands tightly, looking down at the floor. "They're not here."

"They let you come alone?" he asked incredulously.

"'Let' would be an overstatement," I said, laughing without humor.

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What do you mean, Rosalie?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you," I snapped. "I want to go."

"What happened?" he pestered, even as I turned to walk away. "Please. I want to help."

Pausing, my breathing hitched in my throat. I faced him once again, knees wobbling. "I don't want your help, Potter. 'Sides, you can't help me anyways."

"They didn't... I mean, they wouldn't..." he started, realization beginning to dawn on his face. He was searching for an answer as he watched me, focus not swaying as took a step closer to me. Now, instead of feeling animosity towards him, burning hatred and unforgiving bitterness, a hunt for comfort took their places. I wanted to reach out, but I wanted to close up. I physically and emotionally hurt.

I let him approach me as he asked, "Did they disown you? For what you did for my little sister?"

Tears were threatening to make an escape. I would not be seen crying in front of groups of people, and especially not in front of James Potter. Yet, despite my resistance, one slipped and trickled down my cheek. Hurriedly, I wiped it away.

"I want to go," I repeated urgently.

"Rosalie-"

"Just leave me alone," I told him.

"Why won't you let me help you?" he questioned, peering at me, distraught.

"Because I don't want your help!" I huffed.

He ran a hand through his hair. People were starting to stare at us as our conversation grew deeper and deeper. I stared at him with reproachful eyes as he searched for something to say. The James Potter, rendered speechless? Preposterous! But as I studied, I noticed his sincere struggles and it hurt to watch him. I used to hate him, seethe whenever I saw him; why was he trying to help me?

Why didn't anything make any sense anymore? Gods, I wanted to tear my hair out! I was supposed to be smart and clever, but for the life of me I couldn't figure this out.

"Where are you even staying?" he cut in.

"Why? Are you going to write me?"

"Come stay at my house," he offered, unfazed by my smart comment. "My parents will be fine with it!"

"No!" I refused, taking a step away from him. My chest was heaving frantically. I was starting to feel trapped and cornered. I felt like the air was running out of oxygen. "I don't want your help."

"You can't keep doing this!"

I retorted, "Doing what?"

"Hiding! Retreating, whatever you want to call it. Why are you so closed up?" he asked.

Mumbling, I said, "I don't know." The conversation was making me feel uncomfortable, so I turned around once more and started to walk towards the golden elevator. James followed behind me closely.

"Yes you do. And I think I do too."

"Listen to me!" I said, poking him in the chest. "I am not some science experiment, some lab rat for you to observe! You don't know anything about me."

"I could," he reasoned, his face now so close to mine I was starting to feel sick. He smelled like spearmint. "If you'd let me."

"Why would I let you?" I wondered snidely. "Potter, we've been enemies since our first day of Hogwarts. We're supposed to hate each other. Why do you all of a sudden start caring?

"Because things change," he said, frustration lacing his voice. "People change. I feel bad for you Rosalie, and I want to help you."

"Well, I don't want your sympathy," I spat.

"Why do you keep doing that?" he said, nearly yelling now. Surely someone would appear at any moment and remove us from the premises for creating a commotion.

"Doing what?" I snapped.

"Drawing back," he told me. "Every time someone reaches out to you, you bite their hand off. What's so wrong with people being nice to you?"

"Because if you let them get close to you," I said. "They'll just end up ripping your heart out of your chest and stomp on it."

I was terrified of going back.

The Hogwarts Express whistled impatiently as students began to board it, laughing and dripping with wetness from the fresh, falling snow outside of King's Cross Station. Their faces were flushed pink from the chilly winter weather. I pulled my trunk along, using a simple levitation spell and bringing it to an empty compartment, gently placing it on the sturdy rack above me.

News spread fast in the wizarding world, and by now I'm sure that everyone at Hogwarts knew of it. The faces people were throwing at me: disappointment, anger, sadness, pity... it was too much for me to handle. And it was only going to get worse at school.

I shut the nearly translucent door behind me, taking a seat on the plush bench and flipping open the book in my hand. The binding brushed against the palm of my left hand as I did so and the smell of the book instantly calmed me. About thirty minutes later, and four chapters in, the train jolted and I shot forward with it's jagged movements. Frustrated, I wiped my pants off and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, biting the inside of my cheek.

The door slid open again, but I didn't bother looking up. A voice said to me, "Do you mind if I sit in here? All of the other compartments are full, besides the Slytherin ones... but I don't exactly fancy sitting there."

"Go ahead," I muttered. "It's not like I have any friends."

The door was shut gently and the person sat across from me gracefully. "Hey, aren't you Rosalie Flint?"

"Depends who's asking?" I sighed, looking up. My heart jumped a little when I realized I was looking into the intelligent eyes of Louis Weasley. "Louis?"

"I knew I'd recognized you," he said, grinning a little. "How are you?"

Pausing for a moment, I tried to avoid any awkwardness. Why did he have to chose this compartment? So many other witches would kill to share one with him. Why me? "I'm fine, thank you."

"That's not what I've heard," he responded truthfully. "Is it true that you've been disowned?"

Surprised slightly by his bluntness, but rather impressed, I said to him, "Yes, it's not a rumor I'm afraid."

Nodding like he understood perfectly, he said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not so bad, living on my own."

"Now you're just lying," he said.

Again, the shock of his direct, straightforward questions caught me off guard. "I suppose it gets lonely. But it's better than living with them."

"Where were you staying, before you left for Hogwarts?"

"The Leaky Cauldron," I answered. "Shabby little place, it is, but not so terrible."

"I see," he said.

"So, why aren't you sitting with your friends?" I inquired, trying to evade our previous topic. Thinking about it was hard enough, never mind talking about it with a stranger such as Louis.

"I was actually looking for a quiet place to read," he said, holding up a book in his hand. The title read, on the beat up cover, There and Back Again. In smaller, less noticeable letters, the author's name was spelled out: J.R.R. Tolkien.

"The Hobbit?" I quirked, smiling a little. "I love Tolkien's works."

"So you've read them?" he asked, suddenly extremely interested. He leaned forward a little in excitement.

"Well, of course I have!" I said. "I've read all of them from back to front at least four times each."

"Six times, a-hah!" he replied, chuckling a little. "They're so fascinating, and he writes so differently. I'm always on the edge reading his books."

"Exactly how I feel!" I laughed, the gloomy cloud in my mind starting to part.

Sharing a compartment with Louis wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe it was because I didn't have to worry about anyone spotting us and reporting me to Mother and Father. There was definitely a sense of relief in that.

We walked to the Prefect meeting together, talking solely about the only two interests we shared: books and Quidditch. And we didn't mind a bit.

"Albus, stop limping and hurry up!" James called to his brother. "If the barrier closes and we miss the train because you, you're explaining everything to McGonagall. I haven't been on good terms with her since 4th year."

"You try running with a broken toe," Albus muttered crossly, hobbling along behind his brother, dragging his large and heavy trunk.

"Don't worry, Madam Pomfrey will fix it up when we get to Hogwarts. How did you even manage to slam it in the car door?"

"It wasn't my fault!" he complained. "It was Lily!"

"Right," James said nonchalantly, prepping to sprint. "Make sure you get enough speed when you run through the barrier. I don't want to spend the morning scraping you off of the wall."

"Please, James, try to contain your affection."

They both ran through the barrier without any complications, spotting their parents instantly and approaching them happily. Ginny hugged James tightly and he planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Try to stay out of trouble, dear. I don't want anymore letters from McGonagall this term," she told him sternly.

"What can I say?" he grinned. "I'm a magnet for trouble."

Her eyebrows rose and she glared at him.

He winced and shrunk away. Alright, alright. No trouble!"

After saying goodbye to Harry and his mum one more time, he help Lily get her trunk onto the express and laughed as Albus tried to get his own trunk onto the train with a broken toe.

"You all set, squirt?" he asked Lily, her face flushed from the cold weather.

She smiled at him, her brown eyes twinkling. "Yup! Thanks!"

"Hey, Lily!" a second year Gryffindor called to the redhead. "Come sit with us!"

"Bye, James!" The twelve year old ran off to sit with her friends and James strode down the hall, smiling to himself. He searched the compartments for Fred and Molly, peeking through the clear windows for his two cousins.

About ten compartments down, he looked in and the first person he recognized was Rosalie. She had a blue book in her hand and she was smiling at the person across from her. Her black hair was down, descending past her shoulders, and her hazel eyes were sparkling. Her pale skin seemed to be glowing from the white light pouring in from the compartment window.

She looked pretty.

Then, James looked across the small room and his jaw went slack.

Louis. His very own cousin, Louis, with Flint.

When did that happen?

He held up his book for Rosalie to see and she nodded as he said something about it. "Nerds," James breathed quietly to himself. "Talking about books. Figures."

And she was happy. Whenever she was around James, she was just upset all of the time. But now, as she sat with Louis, she was smiling and laughing and enjoying herself. What did Louis have that he didn't?

A weird feeling squirmed in James' stomach. Nausea? No; it was jealousy.

Was he really jealous of Louis, because he could hold a civilized conversation with Rosalie Flint, even if it was just about books?

"Who are you spying on?" Albus asked James, causing him to jump.

"What? Me? Spying? I was not!" he huffed. "Your assumptions hurt me, brother!"

"You are such a drama queen," Albus mumbled, walking past his brother.

"King! Drama KING! Sheesh."