Chapter One: Her Summer of 1994
It was 6 o'clock in the morning. The sun had hardly risen. For a day in the summer, the weather was behaving quite tame. Not that it mattered when the house's air conditioning was pumping out the last of its cool air. There Rosie was, lying in her canopy bed when the sky had turned purple hour. She could see the hues of midnight mixing in with the streaks of periwinkle in the sky through the sheer curtains of her room's french windows.
A faint knock came from the door. It was time. The door opened with a loud creak. Then a pitter-patter of light steps made their way to her bed. Rosie could feel her bed dip at the end.
"Wake up sleepy-head. It's time to get up," a voice said.
Rosie groaned. It was her brother, a soon-to-be-sixth-year at Hogwarts, Cameron. Appearance-wise, they both had the same straight, black hair, and rosy-pale skin. Although Cameron was blessed with a bigger build, the St. Mungo's healers said he was sure to keep growing for a long time, while Rosie was on the thicker spectrum, and her growth had taken a sudden halt after her third year. She knew there was some muscle under her skin, just not very sculpted.
Cameron caressed the top of Rosie's head, stroking Rosie's hair, "We have to get ready soon. The ball starts later tonight."
"I am awake," Rosie muttered.
"No, you're not. You're awake as soon as you get out of bed, lazy," Cameron poked at Rosie's side, but Rosie had batted his hand away and waved him out.
"Okay, okay, I'm going," Cameron backed off, "But you better get ready because– well, you know how Father is."
As soon as Cameron left, Rosie threw her covers off of her bed and walked into the bathroom connected to her room. Almost every room had one. She was lucky to have such a big home. It was one of the perks of being in a long line of purebloods–
–except the house wasn't always Father's. He inherited it after Grandfather Thomas passed away. Grandfather Thomas had millions of estates under his name. This house, The Summer House just so happened to be Mother's favorite, which convinced Father to have it under his name in grandfather Thomas' will.
Our house was comfortable– although, way too big for a family of three. Technically, the Summer House was a vacation home, so it was on a smaller scale compared to the other family estates. Not that it mattered, since the Summer House had four floors with more rooms than you could count. Windows and doors that stretched from ceiling to floor, and a football field-sized garden behind the property of the estate, which was filled with Mother's favorite flowers surrounding a marble gazebo hidden among the fray.
Rosie washed her face over the sink and as she wiped her face clean. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror. Her face was swollen and pudgy. She had stayed up late last night dreading today. I should have slept earlier. Rosie thought as she massaged her face in hopes of calming down the puffiness. Then it hit her. She knew what could fix the problem, "Finkle!" She shouted.
A small house-elf had appeared at the bathroom door, "Yes, Miss Rosie," the house-elf said in her squeaky voice. It was almost like she had sucked in helium from a balloon. Rosie was around five foot three, and Finkle barely reached the knob of her knees. Finkle was in her pair of socks to help keep his ears warm and she wore an edge piece of an old rug with a hole cut in the middle to wear as a poncho. Finkle was presented to them as soon as she was hired for this position. The socks, not the rug. The rug was Finkle's addition.
Rosie turned off the sink's faucet, "Finkle could you warm up the bath for me? A soak would be nice," She asked.
"Would Miss Rosie like the lavender or lemon bath salts?"
"The lemon please," Rosie said.
The house-elf nodded and vanished to get the bath ready.
Finkle's family had been serving Rosie's family for generations. Her grandfather had served Grandfather Thomas and her father had served Rosie's father ever since he was just a child. Thus, Finkle was the perfect house elf. Efficient in her work and knew exactly what to do without asking for details. She was the number one house-elf in charge.
The big bath was a few rooms away from Rosie's. The floor was laid with white marble and in the center of the room was the bath. It was like a sauna, or a bath the length of a king-sized bed with sheer privacy curtains surrounding it. Finkle had prepared the bath just the way Rosie liked it. Warmer than room temp with lemon bath salts and rose petals. It was the routine on days like this, days like the Ministry Family Ball.
The Ministry Family Ball was a summer event. One of those yearly get-togethers before the school year was to start. It was for families to bond with each other and it was basically for parents to shove their kids into the proper social circles that fit their class standing in society. Rosie was glad her Father never enforced such things.
Rosie sank into the bath almost immediately, the heat burning into her skin. Finkle took it upon herself to wash Rosie's hair with the proper essential oils and to brush it out gently. It was Finkle's specialty. Rosie let her eyes close in the bath, and let Finkle take care of the rest because when it came to self-care, Finkle was the boss.
Afterward, was the hair, outfit, and makeup. Rosie had chosen a dress under Finkle's eye of expertise. A silk pink slip, and a white, faux-fur coat if was to get cold. Rosie slipped into her dress after the bath in her room. Then Finkle sat her down by her vanity to curl her hair and apply her makeup, which took forever, but Finkle said you never rush art.
The sun was already setting by the time Finkle was finished with her masterpiece. That was earlier than usual.
"Finally, you're finished," Cameron exclaimed, "Does it really have to take that long every time? Father and I have been waiting."
"As long as we get there on time, the in-between doesn't matter," Father reassured.
Rosie swore Cameron and Father were spitting images of each other. The big eyes, tanned skin, and chestnut-colored hair, which was abnormally brown for an Asian person. If Cameron's facial structure was any sharper, he would have been Father's carbon copy.
Whereas Rosie looked nothing like her father or Cameron with her midnight black hair and fair complexion. Sometimes, people didn't even realize Cameron and Rosie were siblings.
"If Father has no problem with it, then it's fine with me," Rosie said.
Rosie turned to Father, "How do I look?" She did a small spin, making Father's eyes glow.
"Splendid as always." Father crooked out his arm for Rosie to grab. Rosie linked her arm with Father. She held onto his hand as she climbed into the carriage. Cameron went in after, and Father last.
Father liked to take the scenic route when it came to road trips. It definitely took longer than using floor powder or saying the apparition spell, but even Rosie had to admit that the rolling green hills and the sunset were beautiful. The Summer House that was by the countryside was nice and secluded. Only lush trees and endless land going on for miles. No neighbors. No disturbances.
"Anything you're excited for?" Father asked the two, "Perhaps the dancing?"
"Father, we are anything but little children," Rosie said, "I guess the dancing would suffice, except for that fact that it's awfully boring"
Father chuckled, "Maybe Cam can teach you a move or two."
"Father, Rosie is very much capable of dancing. Rosie just finds fine dancing dismal," Cameron said.
"But Rosie, you dance wonderfully. Your teacher always gives you high marks," Father said.
"I do! It's just that my partners have no personality. It's as if I'm dancing with a cardboard box."
Cameron rolled his eyes, "Dancing isn't supposed to be fun. It's common courtesy."
As the carriage made its way into the city, the trees turned into lamp posts, and the grassy fields turned into cement streets and houses. Father had charmed the carriage into a classic white buggy and let the thestral park it by the sidewalk. Cameron pulled out a burlap sack of raw chicken slabs from the trunk of the buggy. He left it on the sidewalk in front of the thestral to eat it.
Rosie, Cameron, and Father piled into the closest telephone booth they could find. They tried to look as non-conspicuous as possible, except that part was impossible when Cameron was elbowing Rosie's face into the phonebooth's plexiglass door, her cheek squished against the glass. Rosie was praying Cameron hadn't ruined her makeup. Although, that was probably something that held the least amount of concern at the moment compared to the muggles passing by staring at her. Rosie wanted to die of embarrassment.
Father got the telephone booth to start working and the floor began to sink down like an elevator. Rosie felt an immense amount of relief. She pushed Cameron over, and he let out a disgruntled yelp. He glared at Rosie to which she stuck her tongue out back at him. Cameron swept his hand on top of the telephone and flicked the dust at Rosie's dress.
Rosie gasped, "You did not!"
"Serves you right," Cameron justified. Rosie decided to get even by rustling Cameron's hair when he wasn't looking. Cameron flinched.
"How could you mess up the hair!" Cameron yelped, combing his hair back into place.
"Settle down you two," Father said sternly, "We're going to arrive soon."
Rosie and Cameron stopped fighting. Rosie wiped the telephone dust off her dress and Cameron combed back his stray hairs in the reflection of the booth's glass. It was only a couple more seconds until the storm. The telephone booth reached the bottom. Father pushed the door open, holding it astray for Cameron and Rosie to step through.
The Ministry Family Ball was the same every year. It took place in the ministry's main building where all the floo powder systems were located. The tables were set with flower vases in the center with matching tableware for each seat. The tables were arranged around the ballroom floor.
By now, most of the guests had already arrived. They were in their fancy dresses and dress robes. Their snobby noses were held high, and their bowties and bow sashes were knotted tight. The torture had begun. Father set his hand on Cameron's shoulder and whispered something into his ear. Whatever it was, Rosie could tell it was serious. Cameron's face didn't have that I-don't-want-to-do-it expression that he usually had.
Father gave Cameron a nod as he put on his socialite hat, leaving Rosie and Cameron to do the mingling on their own. Meanwhile, the other teens in the room were sulking beside the dance floor, hands crossed, uninterested and annoyed. Adults were gliding across the dance floor like a herd of gathering sheep. Cameron held his arm out for Rosie and escorted her to the others.
"See, boring dancing," Rosie pointed out.
Cameron squeezed her arm, "They are moving awfully slow. That's just the way things are." He pulled her past the dance floor. The other ministry kids, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Cedric Diggory, Percy Weasley, and some others were standing in an awkward half circle. Rather than a circle, it was more like an oddly shaped oblong. It was certainly an interesting mix of kids. A group full of Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors, who managed to be civil to one another under the eyes of their parents. Oh, how the conversation was dreary! There was nothing to talk about with the obstacle of prejudice between houses. The safest way to make it through the night was to talk about politics–the stuff the parents talked about.
Percy Weasley was going on tangents about who knows what. Rosie didn't need to know because Rosie could have cared less. This is what Cedric Diggory was for. Someone who could keep up with the Weasley's incessant chatter. That gave time for Slytherin talk.
"It is so nice to see you again Draco, Pansy," Cameron gave a polite nod. Draco did the same, while Pansy did a little curtsy.
"The same goes for you two, Cameron and Rosie," Draco said.
"Come over here already," Pansy grinned as she pulled Rosie into a hug, letting the boys talk about what they wanted, "Did you do anything exciting this summer?"
"No, just same old. Spending time with family that's all," Rosie said.
"Next time, you have to convince your father to come on vacation with my family. We could have taken you to Greece with the Malfoy's."
"I wish I could, but you know how it is," Rosie said. "How was your summer's lover conquest? Did you succeed?" Rosie asked to which Pansy pouted.
"Draco could not have been more uninterested," Pansy said flatly.
"What? We worked out the perfect plan!"
"I know!"
Rosie had helped Pansy at the end of the school year to ask Draco out on a date. Draco accepted, as long as Pansy planned the whole charade, so Rosie and Pansy went to work. Pansy managed to beg her father for tickets to the Quidditch World Cup so she could spend time with Draco because if their families were both in attendance, they would be having their campsites right beside one another. Pansy even had her parents invite the Malfoy family to spend the night before, so they could use a portkey to the World cup together.
"My parents said we were perfect together- ever since we were little if I might add!" Pansy huffed.
"Fourth year, fourth time's the charm?" Rosie sympathized.
"You said that last year."
Pansy and Draco were a pretty hopeless case.
"My father heard that quidditch at Hogwarts was to be canceled this year since the school was planning to do something special," Draco remarked. He seemed proud that he found out "top secret" information prior to anyone else. Crabbe and Goyle, who were winging off of Draco's side, were dumbly nodding along.
"I guess we won't have a chance to demolish the Gryffindors again this year," Cameron input.
"Quite right, Cameron. It's too bad," Draco said.
"I was hoping so badly to watch Draco squash those stupid lions," Pansy chimed, "How 'bout you, Rosie?"
Rosie shrugged with a smile, "I wouldn't know."
"Even though you were placed in Slytherin-," Pansy smirked, "-you're still such a softie."
Crabbe and Goyle gasped.
Rosie wanted to face-palm. Pansy Parkinson. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Rosie loved that girl- sometimes. Pansy could be your best friend in mere seconds if you went out of your way to get to know her, but she could have easily turned into your enemy just as fast. Pansy was particularly excellent in giving back-handed compliments, even if knew she did not mean it that way. Rosie was a softie at heart. It's just that calling her that was her and Pansy's little inside joke, but you never call a Slytherin a softie out loud. That was the equivalent of calling a Gryffindor a coward.
"Rosie's an exception," Cameron stated.
"C'mon she's always been like that-" Pansy started. Then Draco let out a cough. Pansy made eye contact with Draco. He glared at her. His head gestured towards Cameron. It was funny. Cameron, who was two years older than all of them, a former house prefect, could behave intimidatingly towards underclassmen when he wanted to-and if there was at least one thing to know about Slytherins, it was that they respected the authority, and that was Cameron.
"She's part of the Anh family and Cameron's sister, Pansy" Draco sneered, "She's a Slytherin through and through. You seem to fall short on that, so try harder this year, hm?"
Pansy's face fell. Oh, merlin. This is bad. Rosie thought.
"Talking about the best qualities in each other, are we?" Cedric slid in. His face was frantic and exhausted. Percy Weasley's rant must have bored poor Cedric to death.
"Yes, we were just talking about that," Rosie answered fast.
"If we're talking about the best qualities in a person-" Percy began.
Pansy noticeably whimpered. Rosie had to do something about it before her friend was to burst into tears, so Rosie looked Pansy in the eye to get her attention. She pointed to herself, pointed to Pansy, and then, pointed in the direction of the bathroom. You. Me. Bathroom. Now. Rosie cleared her throat, "Pansy, would you like to come to the powdering room with me?
Pansy nodded furiously, leaving no time to waste as Rosie snaked herself and Pansy all way through the maze of tables to the bathroom. The two girls pushed through the bathroom door. Pansy immediately broke out into stifled sobs, so Rosie let her friend cry it out for a couple of minutes, pulling paper towels out of the dispenser to dry Pansy's bleeding makeup.
Pansy's face was pained, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of you."
Rosie sighed, "I told you to be careful about that." The bathroom got silent. Rosie wasn't going to sugarcoat it, especially when Pansy had called her softie in front of her brother. "Look. Pansy, I don't really care what you said. It's our little thing." Rosie frowned lightly, "I just can't believe said it in front of Cam."
"I know," Pansy said, "It's a nasty habit of mine, but I swear I'll keep it to ourselves next time."
"That's how it should have been," Rosie remarked. Pansy sniffled, so Rosie changed topics, "You know, you can't beat yourself up about Draco, right? I don't know how you put up with that guy."
"I can't help it. I love him," Pansy yearned. The crying had stopped. Whether it was a negative or positive conversation about Draco, talking about him always made Pansy feel better.
"How can you even know what love feels like?" Rosie said.
"Like rainbows and fireworks. You just want to explode from happiness," Pansy responded breathlessly.
"Uh-huh," Rosie said. She had a strong sense of doubt about that.
That's when Rosie noticed that her side bangs had come loose. She tried to blow them out of the way, but they would not stay in place.
"Here, let me fix it. It's the least I could do," Pansy said. She reached down into the neckline of her dress and grabbed out a few bobby pins.
"Where did you even get those from?" Rosie said in disbelief.
"I always carry bobby pins in my bra," Pansy answered knowingly, "You never know when you have to look good on the go." She put Rosie's side bang back into its curled shape and bobby pinned it down. When Rosie looked back into the mirror, her hair was back to normal.
"We should go. The boys are probably wondering where we are," Pansy had finally recomposed herself.
"I forgive you since you helped me with my hair," Rosie said, walking out of the bathroom with her best friend.
As the girls were in the bathroom, the boys had been absolutely dying. They were trying to keep up with Percy Weasley's little act of oversharing. Cameron had that straight smile on his face when deep down he probably wanted to punch Percy's smart-ass face. Cedric on the other hand was handling it quite well, although he did have that crazy look in his eyes as if he was about to crack–oh. Okay, so actually, Cedric was not handling it well at all. As for Daco and his goons, they were a bit more transparent about the situation. With Pansy already attached to Draco's hip, distracted, it was up to Rosie to think of an idea of how to rid of the Weasley. Rosie had the perfect solution.
"Hey, Percy. Sorry to interrupt, but I heard at table 5 Penelope Clearwater was looking for you."
Percy's eyes widened, "You-must-excuse-me." Then Percy scrambled away.
"You could not have chosen better timing," Cedric said to Rosie off to the side.
"It wasn't too hard. That guy is crazy for Clearwater," Rosie said.
"Very true." Cedric's laugh was like music to Rosie's ears.
Cedric was a nice guy, and he was one of the hottest boys at school. Any girl would have died in Rosie's place if Cedric uttered a single word to them. Every girl, except for maybe Pansy. Pansy was cuckoo for Draco. Anyway, Cedric had straight A's and everything. He was sweet and charming. The type of boy you would want to take home to your parents. The one negative takeaway about the guy was that sure he was great and all, but his friends were not. Cedric had this magnetic-like quality to him. Everyone loved him– attracted to him like flies. His friends were a different story. Cedric's friends were almost– Rosie would daresay were just as vicious and just as mischievous as a Slytherin, except not as sly about it. She wondered if Cedric ever noticed that.
Twelve o'clock in the morning. The Ministry Ball was coming to a close. The teen wizards were saying their farewells to one another, wishing each other a good school year, which was really funny when that was just them lying through their teeth-mere formalities.
At least with Pansy, Rosie could tell when she was being honest. The girl did little to hide her disgust.
Pansy gave Rosie her last hug, whispering into Rosie's ear, "I'll see you on the train."
On the way back to the carriage, Rosie could feel her eyes growing drowsy. Father had to hold her up. He urged her to stay awake a little longer until they reached the thestral. The stone road was empty. All of London had gone to sleep. Apartment and house lights were off, and the faint sound of crickets chirped. The white buggy was left the way the Anh family had left it. The thestral had finished its meal of hearty raw chicken, the sack, empty. Cameron had tucked it back in the buggy trunk before Father charmed it back to a carriage. When Rosie sat on the carriage's plush seats, she knocked out and fell asleep the whole ride home with her head resting on Cameron's shoulder. Cameron, despite trying his best to stay awake had fallen asleep as well.
"Looks like the little ones had a busy night," Father said, laying a spare blanket onto Rosie and Cameron.
A/N: If any of you guys were wondering, the last name Anh is sort of pronounced like the name 'Anne'. Not too hard. lol.