Chapter 24

"A Valentine's Day ball?"

I turned to look up at Potter as he held up a frilly piece of pink paper. "Yeah, that's what it says."

"Great," I snorted. "That's just what I wanted. A night full of giggling, brainless girls in fluffy dresses, and a bunch of fat, naked babies flying around. I hate Valentine's Day. Cheesy, predictable, and it makes me nauseous."

Potter shrugged, looking down the dark corridor with an amused expression on his face. "I'm sure it won't be that bad. Aren't dances fun for girls? They don't have to do any of the work! The guy has to ask them out, and they're expected to pay for her, and then take her out to eat after or something. All of the pressure is on the guys shoulders, all while we're wearing some monkey suit!"

"You don't have to go dress shopping and pay an insane amount of money for the perfect dress, or spend endless hours slaving over your make-up and hair, or get your eyebrows done and shave your legs and arm pits," I said unhappily. "It's fucking painful. Girls are judgmental and unmerciful."

"Touche."

We wandered the halls of Hogwarts together in silence for a while, examining the shadows and glancing out the windows, before James broke it. "Has anyone asked you yet?" he asked casually.

"I didn't even know this dance existed five minutes ago," I snapped, more upset that he hadn't been observant than anything else. "Besides, no one is going to ask me. I'm the laughing stock of the school right now. Everybody's little punching bag."

He pursed his lips, but then decided to change the subject. "Fred's already asked his partner, Iris Greghan," he said thoughtfully, peeking at me from the corner of his eyes.

"Wonderful. Good for Fred," I said sarcastically, not really caring in the slightest bit about who Weasel was taking to this ball.

"Who do you want to go with?"

"Honestly, Potter," I said, swerving around his front to face him, growing tired of his endless questions. "You're worse than a 12 year old girl."

"Well, I do live with one. Learned from the best."

"Yeah, well, I don't even want to go to this stupid dance," I responded, poking him in the chest. "It's going to be lame and the odds are that I'll end up bored and without a date. Like I said before, nobody wants to go with me. Now, stop pestering me about the stupid ball and let's get on with our rounds."

"Alright, alright. Way to crush the spirit," he said grumpily, crossing his arms unhappily like a child.

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, James."

Taking the damp, stained dish cloth into my hand, I wiped down the table hurriedly and then threw the cloth over my shoulder again. Crystal stood in the corner of the room, flirting with a customer, as usual, leaving all of the dirty work to me. I wasn't too happy about it, but I never complained, because I was terrible at flirting and she was terrible at cleaning.

I was about to jog up the stairs and start cleaning one of the inn rooms when the door rang. Another customer stepped into our small bar. I didn't look up as he took a seat at one of the tables. Fixing myself up and dropping the scuzzy cloth onto the bar counter, I wandered back to the table and took out my notepad.

"Hey, honey. What can I get for you this evening?"

"Hey Rosalie," came the familiar voice.

Jumping back, I stared at him. My heart rate sped up significantly. My mouth opened to reply, but no words came out. I just continued to watch him with eyes the size of dinner plates and a stunned look on my face. The question "How?" somehow choked out.

"You're not really good at covering your tracks," he said pensively. "If it had been anyone else, I'm sure they wouldn't have noticed, but the observant ones like myself could have guessed it. Does McGonagall know you're here?"

Clenching my teeth and swallowing slowly, closing my gaping mouth and gathering what dignity I had left, I said, "Of course she does. The question is, does she know you're here?"

"Of course she doesn't," he said with a quick chuckle. "Anyway, I'll have two Butterbeers; one for me and one for you."

"I have a job, if you haven't caught on fully yet, you numpty," I hissed, terribly unhappy with him. I felt rotten, like he had just uncovered one of my deepest secrets. I felt striped of whatever pride I'd had left after the unfortunate circumstances this year had brought in, and I felt unmasked. How could he respect me ever, now that he saw me working as a bar wench?

"Yes, because the place is just riveting with work." He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Rosalie. It's okay. I'm not going to attack you."

I hurried away from his table, pulling my top up quickly. He must've thought I was a whore now. I mean, I even addressed him as 'honey'. Oh, why did the gods hate me? Sighing at myself, I filled two mugs to the brim with foaming Butterbeer. I ran my hand through my hair as I placed the jugs on the counter in front of the tap.

"Why did it have to be him?" I whispered to myself. Of all people? The only person I wanted to impress since my return to Hogwarts after the holidays, and he was the one who found out.

Bringing the two Butterbeers to his table, I tossed them down and took a seat across from him. "So, Louis, what do you want to know? I'm sure your just itching to interrogate me."

He shook his head, blonde hair tousled as he smirked gently at me. "I'm not hear to interrogate you. I can understand why you got a job, being disowned and all. I'm not judging you, Rosalie. Actually, quite the opposite. I admire you."

I took a swig of Butterbeer, enjoying the sweet taste of the syrup and the sting of the alcohol. "Admire? Please. I work in a bar, Louis. It's quite degrading."

"You're very humble," he said, pointing his index finger at me. It wasn't accusing, but more like he was trying to bring the spotlight to me. "Nobody else I know has the same level as maturity you do."

Staring into his passionate blue eyes, I sighed wistfully. "Why'd you come tonight? And how the hell did you find out?"

"There's a reason I was sorted into Ravenclaw," he replied, tipping his drink at me before taking a sip. "And I came because it's what friends do, isn't it?"

I choked on my drink. "Friends?"

"Is that a problem?" he wondered, eyebrow raised.

I lingered on the word for a couple moments. Yes, I just seemed to have 'friends' popping out of the woodwork like cockroaches lately. Almost to the point where it was uncomfortable and giving me a claustrophobic sensation. But I didn't bring this up to Louis.

"No, I suppose not," I mumbled, retreating to my Butterbeer. "I've got a question for you, though. Why the hell would you ever want to be my friend? I hardly have anything to offer."

"I just do. I want to be your friend. I like you, Rosalie Flint."

Groaning with frustration, I said to him, "Louis! I don't need friends."

"Don't need them, or don't want them?"

Screwing my eyes shut, an anxious breath hissed out of my mouth. "Okay, okay. Whatever. Be my friend, or don't be my friend." I peeked at him through my squinted eyes. "Is there anything else you want?"

He rubbed his chin, as if deep in thought. But, I knew that he had already decided what he wanted, long before he'd walked into this pub. "Would you like to go to the ball with me?"

"Yes, kind of." The words rolled off of my tongue. I was surprised by the cool tone of my voice as I answered him, and even further surprised by my answer. But I did want to go to the ball with Louis.

"Good." He planted his empty mug on the table. "Here's 4 Sickles for the drinks, and a sickle for a tip. The service was awful."

"Shove it, Blondie."

Louis Weasley was like a breath of fresh air after being surrounded by clouds of smoke for an eternity. I inhaled it deeply, cherishing the taste of the stimulating freshness. As he walked out the door, I could feel my heart rate mellow down and I regained my full senses.

I was going to the Valentine's Day ball with Louis Weasley.

And I was happy about it.

While contemplating my possible, newly discovered insanity, Crystal popped a bubble from behind me, causing me to jump up. "Get your lazy arse back into gear, Princess. I don't care if you're going to a ball. And neither does that customer in the corner."

"What?" James said, uncrossing his propped legs and bringing them back the ground. "She's going with Louis? Like, our cousin Louis?"

"Is there even another Louis at our school?" Roxanne quipped, bored, spinning a quaffle in her hands. "Yes, of course she's going with our cousin Louis."

"How do you even know that?"

"Word about Rosalie Flint flies around this school quickly," she said.

"The school's only known about the dance for a week, and everyone's already got a date. 'Cept for me," he huffed. "You'd think I could get a date, being Harry Potter's son and all. But it's weird. It's like I don't want a date."

She rolled her eyes. "As much as I enjoy talking about your inner turmoils-."

James waved his hand dismissively. "Forget about it. You're right. It's just stupid."

Roxanne paused, before sitting up. "You know, I think I know what your problem is."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're in love."

He choked on his own spit. Baffled, he squinted at her. "What, are you mad or something? Have you gone loony? Me? In love? Yeah, right. And with whom am I supposedly in love with, dear cousin?"

"You always do this when you know I'm right, and you're wrong."

"Do what? What am I doing?"

"Babbling."

He started to point something out, but he shut his mouth and finished defiantly, "I am not babbling. Not a babbler. Really-."

"For Merlin's sake, just shut the bloody hell up," Roxanne said, tossing the quaffle into the air and catching it. "It's so obvious, James. You're always staring at her, always trying to get her attention, and when she does pay attention to you, you follow her around like a lost puppy." She stopped for a moment, staring up at the corner of the ceiling. "It's really pathetic, actually. I think even McGonagall has noticed."

"I don't know what you're talking about," retorted James. "Or who you're talking about."

"I think you do. I just think you're trying to block it out. Either that, or you're just stupid."

"Thank you for the encouraging words."

"Anytime. Think about it. Really hard. Tell me who you come up with tomorrow. I got to get back to the common room. Siobhan challenged me to a drinking contest."

"But she's Irish."

Roxanne scowled. "Oh, shove it. Everyone thinks that just because she's Irish, she can beat me at a drinking contest. We'll see. I've got a galleon and 5 sickles on this."

"Good luck," James chanted.

"Whatever. See you later, Jamsie." She tossed the quaffle at him carelessly, and he caught it without any effort.

After his cousin left, James jumped up and left the Gryffindor locker rooms, shutting off the lights as he exited. He started for the castle, enjoying the cool, refreshing air the evening had to offer.

James Potter, in love? Never. In fact, James had never even had a crush. Except for when he was nine, and had the smallest crush on Ali Longbottom. But not anymore. He didn't have time for crushes.

"Hey James," came his brother's voice as he entered the medieval castle.

"Think fast!" James threw the quaffle at Albus' face swiftly, but the tall, raven-haired boy caught it as quickly as James had thrown it.

"You are so juvenile," he muttered, throwing the odd-shaped ball back at him elder brother.

"I like it better when it hits your face."

"Of course you do."

They started walking together, not really heading anywhere in particular. "So, little bro," James began, wrapping his arm around his brother's shoulders. "Have you got a date for the ball, too?"

James and Albus had always been close, closer than most siblings with like ages. They were best friends, in a weird way, and depended on each other for certain things. Though, lately, James had been using Albus as his source of entertainment, and that pissed him off. They were growing up, at James had pointed out months ago. Things were different. Things were changing.

Albus, now the same height as James, stared at his brother and sighed. He didn't want to grow up, and lose the relationship he had with his brother. Not that he would ever share that with the mischievous devil. But with all of these situations getting in between them, it was hard not to begin going down different paths.

"No, not yet," the younger of the two said truthfully. "You?"

"Me neither. But, Kimberly has asked me, several times." James shuddered. "In very... crude ways."

Albus' nose wrinkled. "That's wonderful. Who are you going to ask?"

"As of right now?" Albus nodded. "No one."

His brother's eyebrows shot up and he feigned utter shock. "The James Sirius Potter, famous player at Hogwarts, not bringing a date to the Valentine's Day ball? Well, that's just preposterous!"

"You're worse than Roxanne. No, I mean, I don't want to go to the ball. At all."

Albus turned to look at him. "Oh. Well, that's a first. You're usually jumping at the bit for events like this. You get a hot date and set off some uber destructive prank. Fun for everyone." He paused, before saying, "This doesn't have anything to do with Rosalie going with Louis, does it?"

James peeked at him from the corner of his brown eyes, frowning slightly. He was annoyed by his brother's observation. "No."

"Whatever you say, mate. Has she said anything about... you know."

"No. She's pretty adamant about not bringing up. She's more stubborn than a mule," replied James with a slight sneer. "You know, she's starting to get on my nerves. I mean, here we are, practically begging her to come stay the summer at our home and she's refusing us like we're just scum on the bottom of her shoes!"

Albus paused, slightly shocked by the sudden change of emotion. "James, I don't think-."

"Why does she think it's okay just to shove people out of her way? If she thinks she's too good for us, why are we even bothering?"

Even if he wanted to, James couldn't explain the sudden rage that had engulfed him. It ate at him as he felt the flames lick his insides, burn and churn inside of him. Why did he even want to help Rosalie? All she ever did was turn him down. Over and over and over again.

"She's our friend, and she needs help-."

James just rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Albus! We just need to admit to ourselves that she hates us and wants nothing to do with us. We keep trying and trying and we keep getting rejected!"

"She's struggling!" Albus said, defending Rosalie. "You're being stupid."

"Am I?" he inquired.

"Rosalie went through hell this year. And you have the audacity to complain? She doesn't want to trust us, James. We just need to be patient, if we really care. Because, in the end, we both care about Rosalie Flint. We've made so much progress," he said. "Don't throw it away now."

"She doesn't seem to have a problem with trusting Louis," James snipped.

The younger Potter brother took a step away from James. "You know what? You're being selfish. If you want to give up, that's fine. But I won't. I'm gonna go now. Just don't do anything stupid, James. Don't do anything you'll regret."

With a scowl etched onto his young face, James prowled away, the flames not dying. They made him feel sick and nasty and dark. He wanted to make them go away, but no matter how hard he tried to quench them, they continued whispering to him. Scorching him.

Meanwhile, Albus stalked towards the library, upset with his brother. He met Scorpius, who was sitting at the table quietly with his messy white hair framing his pallid skin.

"What's wrong?" he instantly asked after seeing Albus' scrunched face.

The dark-haired boy didn't reply at first, before huffing, "It's nothing. James is just being a prick, the usual."

His best friend didn't question him any further. "Well, I've just about finished my essay. What about you? Can we get started on the Defense Against the Dark Arts project?"

"I finished my essay two days ago," Albus answered.

"You little nerd," Scorpius snickered.

Shooting him a dirty look, the other boy said, "Oh, shut it. Just finish your essay so we can get started."

The days went by too fast. I was starting to regret agreeing to go with Louis to the ball, but nothing I told myself could force me to bail. So now, I was standing in front of the mirror, wearing an older dress that I had charmed pink and added black lace to. Yes, being a witch had its perks. I had a totally new dress, just paying about a galleon for.

Fixing my hair into a low but formal chignon, I pinned the remaining, straggling locks of hair up. My make-up wasn't much, very light but elegant. I wore a simple pair of silver studs in my ears.

I wanted to impress Louis, very badly. But I didn't want to come off as desperate, so I toned it down a bit.

Finding my way to the Great Hall entrance, I stood still, waiting for Louis to come into sight. People stared at me as they walked by, their judging eyes watching me. I ignored them as best as I could.

Someone tapped my shoulder, and I expected to find Louis. Instead, I found someone else.

"You look very pretty," Kate whispered to me, the sound of her voice unnatural and off beat. The syllables were either mushed together or awkwardly separated.

Not minding her strange tongue, I smiled. "But not as beautiful as you."

Her light brown hair had been curled to perfection, cascading to her shoulders. Her dress with a gentle shade of red, like a rose petal, and the hem just barely touched the ground. Her innocent blue eyes weren't caked with make-up, as most of the girls would look like at the ball. Instead, she went to the dance with her natural beauty, and I envied her for a brief moment, before returning to only admiring her. Her wore a pair of silver hoops in her ears and a locket around her neck.

Kate Levesque was beautiful.

I voiced my thoughts, and she blushed, shaking her head modestly.

"Don't be like that," I said kindly, but I emphasized the words so she could definitely understand. "Jared is lucky to be taking you."

The taller boy next to her flushed red.

Even after our rocky, first encounter, Kate had become a good acquaintance, along with her fiery friend Jared. I had grown to respect them in ways I had never thought I could respect a Hufflepuff. They were kind and very loyal, but also smart and quick-witted.

For the first time, I realized I was honored to be their friend, not the other way around.

"So, are you waiting for someone?" Jared asked, clearing his throat.

"Actually," I said, my attention perked. "I am. Can you believe it? Someone decent actually asked me."

"Actually," Jared replied, mocking me. "I can. See you inside." He took Kate's hand sweetly and walked her into the Great Hall. As the door opened, I heard the sound of beautiful music waver through the empty corridor I was standing in.

Bouncing on my toes, I found myself feeling suddenly nervous. I looked at couples and friends as they passed, becoming less noticeable as they became more engulfed in the mood of the evening. I played with my fingers gently until a voice crept up on me.

"Stunning, as usual."

I grinned and turned around, smirking at Louis. "And I guess you don't look so bad yourself."

(To Be Continued)

A/N: Thanks for reading! This might be the first half of one of the most important parts of this story, so be excited for the next chapter! Hope you guys enjoyed this, and please leave a review! I'm up for any opinions, criticism, remarks, ideas, anything! Thanks for being so terribly patient with me :)