Dramatics

July 17, 1944

It was past dinnertime when she finally arrived at her parents' vacation home. She let herself in through the front door and realized not a single light was on. "Mother? Father?" she called, hearing only her own voice echo through the empty halls in return.

She gave up and walked to her room, assuming that they were next door at the Avery's. Her assumption was proven incorrect, however, when she noticed a slight movement of a shadow outside of her window; she recognized her father's tall frame in the moonlight instantly. Her heart began pounding in her chest as she readied herself to act as little suspicious as possible.

Basil had moved since she had seen him from her window; now he was sitting in his favorite deck chair, looking out toward St. Ives Bay. "I'm back, Father," she told him, leaning over his shoulder from behind him to lightly kiss his cheek. "Did you hear me come in?"

Basil didn't answer and took a long sip of his old-fashioned instead.

"Where's Mum?" she asked.

"Having a glass of wine with Mrs. Avery," he told her. His eyes were still trained on the bay when he asked, "How are the Donohue's?" She could hear the force behind the calmness in his voice and it took her less than a second to register the fact that he knew.

The panic set in almost instantaneously, as soon as she recovered from the shock. What was she supposed to do? This hadn't been part of the plan; it was something she hadn't even bothered rehearsing for. They had been so painstakingly careful, after all. She essentially had two options: to lie or admit that she had been with Tom.

Her breath caught in her throat when she finally made her choice, just as her father turned to look at her. He didn't bother to wait for whatever was going to come out of her mouth. "Well, you wouldn't know, would you?" His voice was ice. "They've never mentioned any interest in attending the Continental Wizarding Dueling Tournament, after all."

She had certainly seen an entirely new side of her father in the past few months, but she had never seen him this angry. Her voice was trembling when she asked, "How did you know?" There was really no point in lying anymore.

"Kerry Bostick, the Head of Marketing, attends each year. He saw you in the stands and thought it was very curious that you were there all by yourself. So he asked about it when he got back to work yesterday morning, of course: if your mother and I were actually there with you and it just so happened that we weren't around at the time he spotted you. Well, I'd seen the papers by then, all the ridiculous headlines of that boy, and it was quite easy to figure out your apparently sudden interest in dueling."

"I'm sorry," she muttered. The only thing she was actually sorry about was the fact he had found out about her deception, but had no idea what else to say that might appease him even slightly.

"Oh, what a fool you must take me for. And then I'm supposed to believe you're off with Faye for the rest of the summer? Well, there will be absolutely no chance of that now. The next time you step off this property will be when we're putting you on the train to school at King's Cross." He looked back out over the water and took another drink.

In a wave of stubborn indignation, she thought she might ask just what might happen if she disobeyed such orders. But she didn't have to. "You're on very thin ice, my dear," her father continued. "The next time you decide to take a step out of line, I promise you, there will be more drastic consequences. Returning to Hogwarts will be the first to go…"

"Did Mum tell you to say that?" she blurted angrily, remembering the threat her mother had made when Rosemary refused to reconcile with Avery after their breakup.

"No. As a matter of fact, she has yet to know about your dishonesty of these last few weeks…I thought I might spare you of that."

Heat was rising to her cheeks exponentially. "Oh, did you? Really. How thoughtful of you…I might have thought you were keeping it from her for your own gain."

Her father chuckled in amusement. "How could that possibly be for my own gain, Rosemary? Listen to yourself, you're being irrational."

"You're afraid she'd side with me," she snapped. "You're afraid she'll be sympathetic."

He shook his head just slightly. "You're mistaken; our views on the matter are quite aligned. Someone of your caliber has no business being with someone like…that." The last word was spoken with so much hate that it seemed weighted, lingering in the air around them for a few long seconds.

"I don't believe you," Rosemary said haughtily. "I spoke to Grandfather Em while I was in Paris and he told me all about the boy Mum was in love with at Hogwarts."

Well, it certainly got Basil's attention. He stood from his chair, but the temper she had expected was absent from his face. His voice was cool and unwavering when he spoke. "This is another matter entirely."

She nodded. "It is, I agree. I can guarantee that the wizard Mum loved was half the one Tom is. I wouldn't care if he were muggle-born; he would still be the most brilliant person I have ever met. I mean, he was in the Tournament, Father…almost in the quarter-finals…It's basically the World Cup of the dueling world. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Don't you see that he's just as clever– if not more so– than any pure-blood wizard we know?"

"It's getting tiresome to hear you going on like this, like having superior blood status is something that can be earned. He'll never be like you …us. It's foolish to think otherwise and that's how everyone else will see you too – a fool. Throwing away your entire life for someone so improperly suited for you…"

"And just what is it that I would be throwing away?" Rosemary asked heatedly. "Money? Tom makes plenty through dueling. The chance to waste away at a thousand luncheons and galas? Yes, what an absolute shame that would be."

"And what about your family?" her father asked.

"You say that as though we're close-knit," she scoffed, but regretted it when she saw the pain it inspired in Basil's eyes.

"Well, no matter," he began coolly as the evidence of her insensitive words vanished, "We'll have you married off to someone of a higher caliber before you even have the chance to throw away everything we've provided you."

"I'd rather die," she retorted.

Her father rolled his eyes and sighed. "Don't be so dramatic."

Of course, his words only served to anger her further. And, at least in her adolescent mind, she wasn't being dramatic. It was true, after all; she would rather die than marry someone other than Tom. But voicing her persistence on the matter wouldn't necessarily get her very far either; Basil didn't take her seriously enough for it to work. So, instead of another failed attempt at asserting herself, she spun on her heel and marched up to her room.

When she first closed her bedroom door behind her, she was tempted to scream as loudly as she could into the nearest pillow. But such an urge came to pass in a fraction of a second; then came the overwhelming sense of defeat. It was exhausting – so much so that she felt she couldn't even make it to her bed and settled for stretching out on the floor instead. She knew full well that her mother would scold her if she was there to see her, even though Zisly kept both their vacation home and their Weybridge estate impeccably clean. It wasn't ladylike to lie on the floor.

But there was no time to think of that now – no, right now, she needed a solution. She briefly pondered the idea of discussing things with her mother, given the fact that she might be Rose's only ally against Basil. But surely this would only infuriate her father further; he would only become even more hell-bent to marry her off as quickly as possible. Besides, when Evelyn found out that Rose had paid a visit to Emerson, as there was no other way to explain how she had known of Pierce, Evelyn's teenage love, her reliability in supporting Rose would certainly be called into question.

In a brief moment of insanity, she wondered if she could possibly convince Tom to run away with her. Where would they go? Italy would be nice, she thought. Or perhaps Germany. Not that it mattered, of course. She knew that Tom loved her, but something told her that he couldn't simply leave everything behind the way she might be able to. It made her sad, in a way, knowing that she wasn't all he needed.

A knock at her bedroom door interrupted her from her thoughts.

"Go away!" she cried, thinking it to be her father.

The doorknob began turning anyway and she realized she hadn't locked it behind her. She thought of reaching for her wand, but it wasn't within an arm's length and she felt too lazy to move.

Rose sat up, recognizing Markus' face immediately. "Sorry…I thought you were someone else…" She had tried to be vague, but there was little question who she was talking about. If her mother was at the Avery's, it was obvious that her father had been the target of her outburst.

Markus smirked at her, let himself into her room, and closed the door behind him. His sandy blonde hair was a bit longer than it had been when she had last seen him on the train home from Hogwarts and it was certainly more tousled. He looked a little high, as was typical for him during the summer due to his nearly incessant use of hashish. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked her.

She groaned and collapsed back down onto the floor as he took a seat on the armchair in the corner of her room. "You have no idea," she said.

"I think I do, actually…Your Mum mentioned you would probably be back around this time, so I thought I might come over to ask about the details of the tournament..."

"How'd you find out I was there?" she interrupted.

"Lestrange."

"Faye wasn't supposed to tell anyone! I'll never trust her with a damn thing again..."

"Calm down. It's fine if we know," Markus told her, with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

"I'm not sure Tom would think so…" Rosemary muttered before she could stop herself.

"She doesn't know anything that Lestrange and I don't…and Tom knows that."

His words took a moment to register. "Wait – you know that he's…"

"Half-blood? Yeah."

She looked at him, entirely dumbfounded. For a moment, she was rather angry with Tom. He had given her such a hard time about telling Faye, but Markus and Adam had known all along.

"Anyway," Markus continued, as her annoyance with Tom quickly faded from her consciousness, "I was walking over to visit you when I heard you arguing with your father…"

So, he really did know the whole of it. "What in Merlin's name are Tom and I going to do, Markus?"

He shook his head and smirked. "Not a clue…Basil was hard on me when you and I were together, even without an issue of blood."

She glared at him. "This isn't funny."

"I know," he said as his face hardened in seriousness. Which, for him, was a rarity. "I wish I knew how to help…you two are clearly supposed to be together. When you're with him, it's the happiest I've ever seen you."

Rose inhaled, nervously awaiting a sad look or tone to accompany his words, but fortunately it never came. It was a wonderful moment of reassurance that their long friendship had persisted through their awkward years in a relationship and the subsequent breakup earlier that year.

"You bring out a different side of Riddle. He's certainly become more…easygoing." It was clear that Markus was trying to choose his words carefully, as though she was going to go and tell Tom the moment Markus said something even potentially offensive. It was rather odd. "And it's not as though he's even like other half-bloods. I mean, shit, he acts more pure-blooded than I do, Rosie."

"Try telling my father that," she sighed, but was inwardly quite thankful to add another name to the list of people who thought of Tom the same way she did.

"I would, if I didn't think he might try and break my arm. After all, what would Slytherin do without its star Beater?"

Rosemary rolled his eyes. Then she said in exasperation: "I've decided; he and I will just have to run away."

"I can't see Tom going for that," Markus said, as he casually played with a string hanging off the armchair.

"I know." She frowned, feeling rather helpless once more…until she was hit with a sudden stroke of genius. "Wait a moment…" She stood up. "What if we told our parents that we had gotten back together and were planning to be married? We'd only lie to them, and only until we graduate. I'd still be seeing Tom, of course, and you'd still be seeing…Rebecca." Rosemary still couldn't help but say her name slightly bitterly, though it had nothing to do with jealousy. She simply didn't like the fact that Rebecca and Markus had put her in the position to play the fool for so long. "It would all be for show-"

"Rosie," Markus interrupted her abruptly and she realized that she had been pacing around the room, speaking in hurried tones the way a mad person might. "That's not going to happen."

"Why?" She couldn't stop herself from saying. "You owe me, remember? For what happened with Orion?"

"I don't owe you a damned thing." It was perhaps one of the first times she had seen Markus genuinely frustrated with her. "You obviously had feelings for Riddle before we split." He narrowed his eyes at her and she immediately regretted everything she had said in the last minute or so.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, looking down at her feet. "That was selfish. I'm sorry. And you're right, you don't owe me anything."

"That's alright, you're just a bit worked up is all…"

She nodded.

"I mean, there are a few things I can think of that would take your mind off things," he smirked.

Then it was her turn to look at him in outrage. "Just a moment ago you completely reject my idea and then you have the nerve to suggest this? You're such a pig, Markus Avery."

The smirk failed to vanish from his face. "I was joking, Rose." She wasn't convinced, but it was certainly more convenient to believe him. He stood and walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "It's just too much fun to see you riled up. And I'm sorry, I wish I could think of a way to help. If you do end up thinking of something I can do that isn't entirely mad, let me know."

"Thank you," she said.

He kissed her forehead and she was grateful for its brotherly, utterly nonromantic quality.

"Would you come back over for breakfast tomorrow morning?" she asked him. "That way I can slip you a letter to send to Tom. Around nine or so?"

She was surprised by the look of hesitation that followed. "Rebecca is coming early tomorrow morning," he explained. "She'll be here for much of the summer."

By this, he meant that if he was to come over, so was Orion. "Fine," Rosemary sighed. It would be worth it, she supposed, if it meant she would be able to communicate with Tom.

Avery let himself out and she locked the door behind him. She sat at her desk, attempting to draft a letter to Tom, but words failed to come to mind. How could she possibly begin to break the news to him? How could she tell him that, even though they were painstakingly careful, her parents had found out anyway? Or that she might well be married the next time they saw each other?

She needed to speak with him in person. A letter was not even close to suitable for such a situation: it would leave too many unknowns. How could she possibly convey the depths of her distress through ink and paper alone? But, a letter would have to do. It was all she had at the moment.

Rosemary began writing a recount of what happened that night while attempting to keep her emotions from getting too carried away. After nearly an hour of writing, she reread the letter in frustration. It sounded excessively detached and almost cold, as though it was merely a report in The Daily Prophet. She reached for a new sheet of stationary, wondering how to strike a balance between what she had just written and something that would be far too sentimental. He wouldn't like it if she used too many frothy, passionate words; he would want the facts first. She could get to her feelings later, as well as a few attempts to comfort him.

But how could she hope to console him? She couldn't even console herself. Any way she sliced it, they were doomed. Her mind drifted to the possibility that she might never lie in his arms again or experience the bliss that was pressing her lips against his. And what would she do if she could no longer experience his brilliance – if she could no longer gaze at him in amazement as he displayed his vast knowledge, explaining some sort of obscure magic she had never heard of.

No, she could not let any of it disappear. She needed it; she needed him. Even if her father married her off tomorrow, she would still see him. At Hogwarts she would slip into his room, just across the hall from her Head Girl suite. It didn't even bother her to know how improper it was.

But, she realized with a sinking feeling, it would only drive Tom mad. Rose knew that his pride would never allow him to become the man on the side, nor did he deserve it. She would inevitably despise herself for degrading him in such a way and surely he would become resentful. He was too exceptional a man; she felt that anything short of her full affections would be simply unsuitable.

Perhaps, if she were married off before her time at Hogwarts concluded, she could pursue a divorce and then she and Tom could finally be together. But that was tricky, too; to obtain a divorce, she would need to prove her husband's infidelity and that wasn't exactly something she could guarantee would happen. Plus, this all hinged on the fact that Tom would be willing to wait for her and she wasn't sure he would, even though she knew he loved her. He could decide at any moment that she was no longer worth waiting for; such unknowns were difficult to reconcile.

Then a truly terrifying thought entered her mind – what if, one day, she had to see him with somebody else? She pictured him smirking at some mystery girl while they held hands. Maybe it would be one of the vapid girls he met at the tournament. How could she even dream of bearing it? There were few things she could think of that would be more painful.

Her hands were trembling when she placed the finished letter in an envelope. It was now early in the morning and she just had a few hours to sleep before Markus and Rebecca arrived for breakfast, though she knew full well that sleeping wasn't actually going to happen. As she pressed her seal on the envelope, she couldn't help but feel that something terrible had been set into motion and that things would soon become much worse. But, there was little she could do. All that was left was to see what came next.

"I will love you 'til the end of time; I would wait a million years. Promise you'll remember that you're mine." – Elizabeth Grant

Thank you to A regrettable decision, Lucy Greenhill, Mrs. WaylandOdinsonBlack, RosiePosie15, and CharlotteBlackwood for reviewing the last chapter. I also owe a huge thank you to all of you that have favorited/followed! Knowing that people are reading this certainly helps to keep me motivated. :D

In the next chapter we'll be checking in on Tom and seeing how he takes the news! Thanks for reading!