Chapter Two Part 3: Her Hogwarts Year: 1994

"Oh. God. Where did I put my wand?"

"I'm sure it's around here somewhere," Daphne answered.

"I don't think you don't understand," Rosie said frantically, "We have transfiguration first period. McGonagall is going to kill me."

"Rosie, that is an exaggeration. You've turned this whole place upside down and it's been at least an hour since Pansy left for breakfast."

Daphne was sitting on her bed calmly, one leg crossed over the other on her neatly made bed.

"I can't do Transfiguration without my wand," Rosie complained. Every piece of clothing she packed for Hogwarts was thrown out of its drawer and her sheets were all crumpled up. Father would go mad if he saw this.

"You're just going to have to do without it, otherwise we're going to be late for class. You can explain to McGonagall that you lost it," Daphne said.

The first class of the day was Slytherins and Gryffindors in Transfiguration, which was a terrible mix– and McGonagall was furious. Of course, Filch had ratted out the Back-to-school mixer to the house head of Gryffindor. He hated the Gryffindor's guts, and they hated his. A lot of people did not like Filch. No surprise there. He wasn't on anyone's side, even the Slytherins. He took pure enjoyment out of catching students in trouble and making them miserable.

McGonagall started off the lesson with an excruciatingly long and lengthy lecture on why you don't throw parties on the first day back to school or any for that matter. The Gryffindors were writhing in agony, while the Slytherins watched in enthrallment. The Slytherins, especially Draco Malfoy always loved to see the Gryffindors take the heat.

Professor McGonagall wasn't one to dote on the problem, so she cut straight to the point, and she was done just as quickly. McGonagall rewarded the class by having them read the text, the class' least favorite thing to do. McGonagall's classes were the interactive type. Sure, there was reading for homework, but it was always little that intro dialogue at the beginning of the chapter. It was nothing compared to this level of actually reading the definitions of the spell's word of origin. That were the fine details nobody cared about! This was torture. And the class lesson went on like this for at least an hour– such a bore-fest. At least this was something the Gryffindors and Slytherins agreed they hated, although, this was more of a standard hatred for all students. Nevertheless, the rival houses had something in common for once.

"Today, we are learning about conjuring water from your wand. The spell is on the next page. Page one-hundred and five. Remember to clearly enunciate and follow the precise wand motions drawn below the text. I shall demonstrate the spell first and you shall all work on it on your own."

The class gave a collective sigh of relief. Rosie grew nervous. She didn't have her wand to practice. She loathed the reading, but she loathed not having her wand even more. For the majority of the class, she had a free pass, but now, she couldn't do anything about it. It's not like she could just borrow someone else's wand. It just didn't work that way.

"Ms. Anh, might I ask where is your wand?" McGonagall was meandering about the classroom, checking everyone's wand posture. She towered over Rosie's shoulder.

"I lost it, professor," Rosie admitted.

McGonagall sighed, "You'd do well to watch your deskmate practice then. Make sure to see me after class."

Rosie groaned. She could feel the other students nearby Gryffindor laugh to themselves. Even if she couldn't see them, she just knew what they were doing behind her back. Rosie cowered into the husk of her cloak.

"I swear it was in my cloak last night at the party," Rosie whispered to which Daphne shrugged– she was more focused on her own spells.

"Maybe you can ask one of the Gryffindors if they can look in their common room for you?" Daphne suggested.

Daphne gestured to the Gryffindors in front of them. It was Potter and Weasley, who sat in the row ahead of them. They were struggling to get the spell right. Weasley kept on leaning across the aisle to ask Granger for help. Granger didn't care since she was so obviously trying to avoid him.

The class was supposed to be conjuring water in a goblet and Potter and Weasley were failing miserably. If Rosie had a nickel for every time Weasley got the spell wrong, she'd be– well, let's just say it wouldn't have been easy to count. If Weasley could barely manage a water conjuring spell, how was he supposed to find Rosie's wand? Rosie highly doubted Weasley could help, and Hermione was too scary to ask. She was too intelligently intimidating to talk to. Rosie didn't think she would keep up with her or Hermione would think that she had some ulterior motive.

"No way," Rosie argued.

"It's your funeral," Daphne accepted, "Otherwise, you're just going to have to ask your father to buy you a brand new wand."

Father would not like that. Rosie did not want to bite the bullet. She would have to settle for Potter.

"Next class, I want to see your progress on water conjuring. Please, practice because the next lesson is to check your progress before we learn the next conjuring spell," McGonagall announced.

The class was shifting in their seats. It was so hard to not throw your textbook into your bag and stand nearby the door to leave. It was one of McGonagall's pet peeves– really loud rustling of bags. Probably because she knew that it meant that her students were not paying attention to her.

"And everyone please remember to attend tomorrow's dinner. Your attendance is mandatory. Class is dismissed."

The class whipped up into a frenzy. There was a fifteen-minute break in between this class and the next. Students could go down to the Great Fall to eat breakfast if they missed it or they could lounge around and chat with their friends. Potter was in that crowd, and Rosie almost missed him. Before Rosie could do anything about it, McGonagall had called out her name.

"Ms. Anh?"

Rosie froze in place and took her walk of shame to the front of the room, to McGonagall's desk, "Yes, professor?"

"You missed out on the classwork in today's lesson," McGonagall said.

"But I lost my wand!"

"No excuses, I have no choice, but to mark your work today as a zero."

"Wha- professor, you can't! There has to be some way I'm able to make it up. Please, if my father sees today's score he's not going to be happy. I'll do an extra assignment or clean up the classroom."

McGonagall put her hand up, telling Rosie to stop. Rosie shut herself up. The professor closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, "I do not relish giving specific students special treatment. It would be unwise. It shows favoritism, which a teacher does not have the freedom to do so-"

Rosie was ready to give up, her head lowered.

"-but if you really are that worried about your father," McGonagall continued, "Then you can learn a plant conjuring spell from the next lesson, and present it to me by the end of the next class."

Rosie raised her head.

McGonagall smirked, "You get one chance."

Rosie caught Potter outside the classroom. He and his friends were hanging back around the classroom before next period.

"Hey, Potter," Rosie called out. Potter turned around to the mention of his name. Rosie waved her arm discreetly.

"Oh, you're from the carriage, right?" Potter said.

"That's me," Rosie answered.

Potter and his friends looked her up and down, and stared at her– almost silently judging her.

"Um, I was wondering if I could talk to you alone? I promise, no tricks," Rosie mentioned.

Weasley nudged Potter. They made eye contact and Weasley's eyes were screaming for Potter to get out of there. Potter whispered into Weasley's ear, and Weasley was shaking his head 'no'.

"I'll catch up with you guys later. See you in DADA," Harry pushed his friends off.

"Are you serious, Harry?" Weasley muttered from afar.

"Yes, now go," Harry said.

"I'm going to try to make this short and sweet," Rosie said as she shared her concerns.

Potter was intrigued to say the least– that a pair of Slytherins were invited nonetheless, attended a gold and scarlet party with a group filled with lions, badgers, and ravens. Slytherins very rarely fraternized with the other kind. Even if the Gryffindors did try to socialize with the Slytherins, the Slytherins were too arrogant, haughty, and full of themselves.

"I'll ask around if anyone's seen your wand," Potter said.

"Seriously?" Rosie wished her voice didn't sound so surprised.

Potter smiled politely, "I think I can manage."

Rosie recomposed herself, "I do really appreciate this, Potter," she said in a serious tone, "Thanks for hearing me out."

"I'll get back to you on your wand, and spread the word around."

Wild screams and whoops of cheers were ringing throughout the corridor. Rosie and Potter followed the source of the noise. The students were crowding around near the windows, looking out onto the Great Lake. A flying carriage was being drawn by platinum winged horses. It flew high above the glistening lake. It was a very blue carriage. It was easy to see Hagrid directing the carriage into an open spot, but the carriage was coming fast, making Hagrid the landing spot. He jumped out of the way just in time.

From the Great lake, a small crowd of foam and bubbles moved closer to land, and from there, an entire ship had risen from the water. Dark sails on an ancient wooden ship. The wind blew into the black-red-ish sails as if they had not touched water, functioning as they should. The ship traveled as close as it could to shore and dropped its anchor. The sails were tied down instantly, leaving the ship's colors waving in the wind.

More or less, dinner was quite eventful. Everyone was a lot rowdier than usual. They could not have missed that spectacle earlier.

"I can't wait to see the other schools," Rosie was sitting in anticipation.

"Well, I just hope there are some new hot boys," Daphne said, "We need some new eye candy around here."

"I thought you didn't care about boys?" Rosie rolled her eyes.

"I don't see the harm in wishful thinking," Daphne said.

"How can boys be on your mind, when there's school?"

"I like to think I'm talented at multitasking. What did you plan to do the entire school year? Homework?"

"Um, yes? We're at a school?"

"Rosie, you need to live a little more. Think about it. A good eighty percent of us are going to have some sort of career at some dead-end job at the ministry. And if you don't work at the ministry like your father wants to, you're a housewife, and that's such a waste of your skill."

"Well, my career is affected by how well I do in school. I don't want to fail."

"How are you going to fail? You basically have straight A's."

"Straight A's take time. What do your parents have to say about this?"

"They don't know. I just go home with good grades. It's on the transcript and it doesn't matter how I get to it.

"What does this have to do with dating boys?"

"Rosie, I could care less about the boys themselves, it's about the experience you get."

"How inhumane."

Ever since the other schools arrived, Rosie wasn't the only person excited about their arrival. Every student was on the edge of their seat. There was such a commotion earlier too. Talk about an entrance. A pegasus drawn carriage, flying through the air, and an underwater sea ship.

Dumbledore had created quite a build-up when introducing them.

The dark and brooding Durmstrang boys. Strong and true, covered in faux fur. They looked so intimidating with their non-existent smiles and buzzed-cut hair. Sharp jaws and stoic in a charming way. Based on word flying around, he was a famous quidditch player as well.

The Beuxbaton ladies had an equally loud welcoming, especially from the male population. Rosie rolled her eyes. Was there anything to think about at school besides dating and the opposite sex? The ladies of Beauxbaton were elegant. Their uniforms were a pristine shade of blue. A total one-eighty from the Dursmstrang lot. The Durmstrang boys were like lobs of muscles, and the Beuxbaton ladies were carefully calculated angles. The ladies smiled, their pearly whites framed by their glossed lips. Not a thing was out of place– from their styled hair to their polished heels. Everything about them was perfect.

The new schools settled into their seats. The Durmstrang boys sat with the Slytherins. One of the boys approached Rosie and Daphne, "May I sit here between you ladies?"

"Please!" Daphne said as she made eye contact with Rosie. She immediately scooted to the side to let the Durmstrang boy sit. Rosie knew that look in Daphne's eyes. She was up to no good. Rosie did not ask Daphne for any matchmaking advice.

Dumbledore hushed the students down from their mini social event. He presented the goblet of fire once more. He re-explained the rules for entering. The underage students were as upset as on the first day of school. Dumbledore let them get it out of their system. The three champions would be chosen on the day of the Halloween feast, and afterward, they would face a series of trials for three schools to watch. Not only that, the Yule ball was to be held on December twenty-fifth. And furthermore, the professors expected their students to study for their O.W.L examinations. Rosie wanted to dig a hole to cry in.

After a more than a concerning amount of ice cream and Daphne's uninvited matchmaking, Dumbledore dismissed the students for bed. Daphne pushed the Durmstrang boy at a one-hundred percent throttle, right into her stomach. Rosie could not wait to return the favor.

Rosie followed a group of Slytherin out of the Great Hall. She was ready to sleep and pretend that today never happened. She had to worry about O.W.L examinations, socializing with other schools, the Yule Ball, and most importantly she lost her wand.

"Do you know a Slytherin named Rosie?" Someone was hassling the Slytherins. Not that it mattered since the hassler was talking about Rosie. She was the only Rosie in all of Slytherin house.

"What's it to you, Gryffindor?" Said Adrian Pucey, a sixth year. He was one of Cameron's best mates, one of the good-looking ones too. Cameron and Pucey were on the quidditch team together. Pucey's hair had grown out from last year. Rosie was glad Pucey let his hair grow out because the close shave to his head with the ends gelled up was not a good look for him.

Pucey pushed the Gryffindor to the ground.

The Gryffindor yelped in pain, "I just wanted to return her wand that's all, you complete pig's arse!"

"What did you call me!" The back of Pucey's very brunette head was turning red at the neck. He and his other Slytherin friends had begun to crowd around a redhead. It was George Weasley.

George was outnumbered one to five. His chances of winning were zero, so Rosie thought of the only sensible solution.

"H-Hey, Pucey," Rosie called out, "Cameron said he was looking for you. He said he needed help with something."

Pucey's anger subsided once he saw Rosie's face, "Really?"

"Yup, and he was hoping you could get there soon," Rosie spoke in her 'nice' voice. The one that got Cameron into doing her favors.

"I'll get going then. You doing well these days?" Pucey asked.

"Doing swell," Rosie said, "You should move along. Cameron said it was pretty urgent." She aggressively pushing Pucey towards the Great Hall. She just needed them to go away, but Pucey was a lot bigger than she was. She tried her best.

"What's the rush?" Pucey laughed, "And I told you to call me Adrian. We're on better terms than last names."

"Cameron said he wanted you, and I'm just doing what he told me," Rosie justified.

Pucey held Rosie's hands, stopping her from pushing him, "How 'bout this. I'll go- only if you call me Adrian and not Pucey anymore."

"Fine, Adrian," Rosie said, "Now go. Cameron's waiting for you."

"Alright, alright, I got it. I'll leave," Adrian said, "I'll see you soon."

Rosie watched Pucey and his gang of Slytherins leave. She had no idea Cameron was in the Great Hall, so she had to get away fast. She could see him in her line of sight. Adrian and the other Slytherins went up to Cameron. They were talking, mouthing words Rosie couldn't read. They stared out of the Great hall in Rosie's direction. Confusion. Cameron especially. He stood up from the table. He spotted her.

"Is everything ok?" George said from behind Rosie.

Rosie hardly pay attention to George since all she could see was Cameron, Adrian, and the other Slytherins approaching her from the Great Hall.

"We have to go," Rosie said, grabbing George's hand and ran. Anywhere else but there was fine.

It felt like vertigo. Probably due to lack of sleep, and maybe water.

"I think we lost them," George called out from behind.

Rosie stopped in the open hallway next to the courtyard. She needed to sit down, and take a breather, so she found a spot on a stone bench against the wall.

"You know, usually I'm the one doing the running away," George chuckled. He sat beside Rosie.

"I just didn't want any trouble," Rosie said.

The sun was almost set, and the hallways were filled with a golden hue. Each lamp on each column had lit up.

"Avoiding trouble, huh?" George said. "My specialty."

Rosie laughed softly.

"As I was saying earlier," George said, "Your wand." He placed a wand in Rosie's hand. Her wand. Dragon heartstring core, about the length of her forearm, so around twelve inches. Birchwood. A creamy white wand, speckled like an egg.

Rosie remembered as if it were yesterday– getting her first wand. Diagon Alley was a familiar sight, except this time, she would finally get to go into Olivander's to get her wand. Unlike Cameron, her wand had found her on Olivander's first try.

"Oh, a sight for sore eyes," Rosie held the wand tight in her hand, "I'm never letting this out of my sight again."

"I haven't really seen you around Hogwarts?" George said. "None of my classes either. You aren't a sixth year, are you?"

"Fourth year," Rosie specified.

There was a pause… "R-Really? A fourth-year? Same age as my brother actually."

"Ron, right? Ron Weasley."

"You are correct."

The red hair. Proud personality."I'm seeing the resemblance," Rosie said.

Ron was a blabbermouth– unrefined. George wasn't like that at all. He had this debonair-like quality to him. Mischievous, but in a smooth fashion. Anyways, Rosie did have a small assumption that George was George Weasley. How could the ginger hair and the fact that he was a Gryffindor make her think otherwise? His name was well known around Hogwarts, although the rumors made George sound much more of a menace than he actually was.

"That doesn't bother you?" George said, interrupting Rosie's train of thought.

"No. Does it bother you?" Rosie responded. She was genuinely curious what George's answer would be.

"I-don't think so. Conceptually, a Slytherin and Gryffindor shouldn't work out, but you-" George breathed in sharply, "You're different."

Rosie properly met George's eyes. She had been fiddling with her wand, playing around with it in the palms of her hands. When Rosie matched her eyes with George, her heart nearly stopped. George was– George was not a boy at all. Just the air around him was unfamiliar, which awakened a feeling in Rosie that she didn't know she had. He was nothing like the boys in Rosie's year, who were immature and still thought fart jokes were funny. George's eyes were so gentle and kind. His hair, glowing as if it was on fire. Long ginger lashes, and a cute little mole on the right side of his neck.

"You are," Rosie said, "You're…"

As Rosie struggled to put her words together, George leaned in close, making Rosie subconsciously lick her lips. He smelled good. George closed his eyes, and just as Rosie was about to reciprocate, she paused. Something was pinching at her chest.

"Wait." Rosie set her hands on George's chest.

George stopped, his face was red, "What's wrong?"

"I think we're going too fast."

George leaned back against the brick wall in realization, "You're right. You're right. This is way too fast." George hid his face behind his hands. "Rosie, I am so sorry. I swear I'm not the type to kiss and tell."

"No, it's okay," Rosie said. "It's okay." She repeated as if she was trying to reassure herself that she did the right thing. Rosie put her hand on her heart. It was beating a mile an hour. She had almost kissed a boy.

A/N: Truthfully, I don't think my writing was the best it could be for this chapter. I just couldn't find the write words, but I did enjoy writing a lot of it, so I hope you enjoy it too!