Chapter Three Part 2: Her Hogwarts Year: 1994
A/N: I had no idea this chapter was going to be so dialogue-heavy, but I was really in the flow of things. I wouldn't say that I love this chapter, but it was certainly necessary. ;) It was so hard for me to write. A lot of scene switches, and I wasn't sure if it was natural or not. I've been practicing free-writing through this, so honestly... I have no idea what's in store detail-wise. I definitely, for sure, one-hundred percent am sure about what is going to happen later. I just haven't discovered how the characters get there.
Tiffany was long gone by midnight. It was curfew then and the lights were nearly out. And out of the many trivial things Tiffany cared about, at least she cared about curfew.
Rosie was sitting at the base of Daphne's bed as Daphne was brushing her hair. They liked to take turns as it was a calming way to end their day. The girls basked underneath a mixed glow of the blue moon and warm candlelight.
"How was Hogsmeade? Was it fun today?" Rosie asked.
"It was alright. I guess," Daphne said. Then she groaned, "Oh, yeah. Tiffany was literally all over Johann. Did you know that?"
"You know how she is with her crushes," Rosie stated.
"No, this was absolutely beyond. Ten times worse if I might add. She was all 'Johann, show me again', or 'Johann look at this," Daphne mocked. "I can't believe I had to put up with all of that while Johann's other narcissistic chums were breathing down the back of my neck. Seriously, I wanted to end myself. I wish you were there, Rosie."
"It couldn't have been that bad."
"I don't know. Tiffany was being a bit extreme about it or something. She was sort of ignoring me the whole time," Daphne claimed, "And sure, I did say that the Durmstrang boys were a change in pace from the crusty ol' Hogwarts' boys, but they're still the same musty teenage boys, except they have an accent."
"I can see that," Rosie chimed in.
"Tiff needed to tone it down, and I understand that she wanted to hang out with Johann, but– I don't know. I sound stupid. Maybe I'm being too technical about these things."
"But it's how you feel, right? At least you're sure about what you feel. I feel like I can't ever decide anything."
"Anyway, I still can't see why you would want to waste such pretty hair by tying it up all the time," Daphne threw in. That usually meant she wanted to drop the subject.
"Really? I feel like it just gets in the way," Rosie said. She propped her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
"Your hair is sleek and thick. Every girl would kill to have your hair. What more is there to it?"
"There's a spell for that, isn't there? Every girl can have straight hair. Don't you use a spell?"
"But there's all the complications of maintaining and upkeep straight hair. You have it naturally. Having to straighten my curly hair in all honesty is such a misery. Sometimes, I even have to cast down a second spell because the first time wasn't enough."
"You still look pretty with or without curly hair. You look gorgeous all the time, Daphne," Rosie said.
"Thank you. I know," Daphne said, "And all I'm saying is that it wouldn't kill you to care a little more."
"I think I've looked consistently as I have since I was eleven years old. Small eyes, and flat-ish nose." Rosie whispered, hugging her knees tight to her body.
"It's cute though," Daphne argued.
"Well– That's what everyone says. That's what my dad says. No one calls you 'cute'."
"Stop that." Daphne aggressively brushed through Rosie's hair.
"Ow, what's that supposed to mean?"
"Doing that thing you always do– feeling sorry for yourself– putting yourself down, and then, comparing yourself to me. It's a waste of time. And not very Slytherin of you."
"Since when did you care about how Slytherin you were?" Rosie asked.
"That's not the point." Daphne paused her brushing. "The point is Rosie, I think you underestimate yourself. I may look like this, but sometimes, it's just a pain in the ass. Everyone thinks you're a ditz. And apparently, being a ditz combined with being a Slytherin was an open invitation for everyone to label me as some posh, pure-blooded heiress–"
"-you are one–"
"-not the point, Rosie–"
"-Okay, go on."
"Rosie, you are better than this. And at least you're something. Guys see the models in the Daily Prophet ads and literally drool over it, which is disgusting, to say the least. We, the real female species are not even full-grown women yet and our bodies are changing all the time."
"I guess you're right." Rosie sighed. "There's been something wrong with me these days."
"You just need a little pick me up, and guess what. I'm going to help you get ready tomorrow before class, so you don't feel so sorry for your negative ass, which is completely wrong by the way," Daphne stated.
"You don't have to do that, Daph. I get it," Rosie said.
"No, no, no. I'll show you. I'll show you that the tiniest difference comes a long way."
And Daphne followed through. The next morning, she woke Rosie up thirty minutes earlier than usual. She forced Rosie to wash her face and brush her teeth half asleep. Then Daphne sat Rosie back at the vanity mirror the two girls shared.
"Stay still," she ordered.
Rosie let herself get some shut-eye as she sat on the plush velvet chair in front of the vanity.
"I told you to stay still, not to be quiet."
"Trying to get some extra minutes," Rosie murmured.
"Alright then, just try not to fidget."
Daphne lathered a cool paste onto Rosie's forehead. Rosie opened her eyes from the chilling feeling. Eggshell white. Lotion. Daphne dipped her hand in a plain-colored tub and slathered the lotion onto Rosie's cheeks.
"Rub that in."
Rosie complied, and it was time for Daphne to work her magic. Daphne told Rosie to 'Watch her carefully', so Rosie made sure to follow Daphne in the vanity mirror.
Daphne's work was light and used sparingly. Nothing too crazy, which was what Rosie was partially afraid of. The first time she saw Pansy experimenting with makeup, Pansy looked like a clown accident gone wrong. Good thing Rosie caught Pansy before their families went out to dinner. The other pure-blood boys would have teased her on end. They would not have let her live that down.
Daphne said that it was the small fixes that would amplify her features. That all Rosie needed was a little color on her face because everyone looked washed out first thing in the morning.
When Rosie saw the finished product of herself, there actually wasn't too big of a difference. Possibly, it could be the fact that she was wearing makeup that made her feel different. Her cheeks were red and so were her lips. It gave life to her face. Who knew a little eyeshadow and eyeliner could get the job done?
"Wow," Rosie stared at herself in the vanity.
"I know." Daphne answered. "See. You've always been pretty."
"Really?"
"Really. Now wear your hair down."
"What. No."
"Just do it."
"But my hair is going to get in the way during class."
"Ugh, fine. Wear this headband." Daphne grabbed a white headband out of her trunk. "Don't bother to return it. I was using it for my headband phase last year. An utter failure by the way. Made me look like a skyscraper with it on."
Rosie and Daphne headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and Rosie couldn't help but feel like everyone was staring at her, yet when she looked around the Great Hall, there were just a few passing glances. Nothing special. Like how it was every day.
Rosie and Daphne took their places at the Slytherin table in front of the eggs and bacon. It was a savory day for them. More like Rosie wanted eggs and bacon and convinced Daphne to sit there. Daphne ate minimally. She would say that she was never that hungry, but Rosie never believed her.
Eating was probably one of Rosie's favorite things. Growing up, her father would attempt to make her the foods that mum would make for him. It made Rosie feel connected to her even though she didn't remember what her mum's food tasted like. She was practically an infant. Father left the majority of the household chores for the house-elves, but cooking, that was his thing. In the earlier years of the Anh family, Rosie and Cameron endured some of the most horrid cooking they had ever experienced. Burnt stew. Undercooked rice. Compared to then, Father had very much improved. Rosie wasn't completely sure how you could burn potatoes in a stew.
Over-easy egg and crispy bacon. The exact replica of the breakfast Rosie had on her first day at Hogwarts. Food held memories. Shared feelings. It reminded her of the first day she met Daphne because, at the time, she was rooming with Pansy. On the first day of Herbology and Professor Sprout pairs Rosie and Daphne together to replant some roots for a class assignment. Daphne told Rosie she smelled like grease– it was the bacon.
Rosie let Daphne choose breakfast on the regular, so she skipped out on the eggs and bacon, and she opted them out with yogurt and granola– Daphne's breakfast. Rosie didn't mind it at all.
Adrian Pucey slid onto the bench beside Rosie, "How are you?"
Rosie finished her bite of egg, "Fine. Thanks."
"Did you go to Hogsmeade this weekend?"
Rosie looked over at Daphne. They made eye contact. Daphne made a head gesture towards Pucey, and Rosie shrugged.
"Um, no I didn't go."
"That's impeccable timing actually as I didn't go as well either… And bouncing off of that idea, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"
Rosie almost choked on a perfectly good glass of pumpkin juice. "E-Excuse me?"
"Would you want to go to Hogsmeade? With me? This weekend?" Pucey repeated.
"Pucey–" Rosie started.
"-Adrian," Pucey emphasized.
"Right, Adrian. Um, you don't have any other mates to go to Hogsmeade with?"
"R-Rosie," Pucey whispered, "I'm asking you out on a date."
If Rosie didn't catch herself, she would have gasped aloud for the whole Great Hall to hear. Adrian's face was– how would Rosie describe it. Not nervous. Not ashamed.
"Oh."
"I'll wait for your answer before the weekend comes up." Adrian left before Rosie could even answer.
"Way to shoot someone down without even trying," Daphne snarked.
"What? How was I supposed to respond to that if nobody's ever asked me that before," Rosie answered.
"You could have at least been nicer about it. You humiliated the poor guy."
That's the word: humiliated. His face was full of humiliation.
"W-Well– I'm not interested in him in that way. He's just– he's just Cameron's friend. That's all. Why would I think of him any other way?"
"For one, he's hot, and two, you're oblivious. It's like you're trying to shut down the opportunity without even testing the waters. How would you know if you really liked him or not?"
"Aren't you supposed to be on my side? I just said I wasn't interested!"
"Just try Rosie, and if you really don't like him, you can just reject him afterward."
During classes, Rosie could not stop thinking about what Pucey said. She never looked at him as a romantic interest. Rosie considered all of Cameron's best mates as annoying and crude. Those were the best words to describe them. After all, they were teenage boys. Something about Cameron's mates was unspeakably off-limits. Rosie knew that if she explained it to Cameron he would be okay with her dating one of his friends– eventually, but the whole situation left a sour taste in Rosie's mouth.
Adrian wasn't her type no matter how hot he was. Yeah, he was a 10/10, but his personality was so-so. That one summer when the Pucey family invited Rosie, Cameron, and Father for dinner, Adrian was a complete show-off. When he was giving a tour of his family's summer chateau, he was perhaps going into a bit too much detail about the artifacts the family curated to put up on display. Although, what would a Slytherin be without a little pride and narcissism? Adrian was simply existing in the small globe of Rosie's universe– nowhere near close to her inner circle. Adrian was even farther out of the circle than George was.
Speaking of George, Rosie and him made plans to meet up in the library after classes today. The Transfiguration demonstration was at the end of the week and Rosie needed someone to help her review. The two decided to meet up at their last encounter– where they agreed to this little arrangement in the first place.
Before classes were finished, as Rosie predicted, she did horrible in Transfiguration earlier today. It was difficult to meet McGonagall in the eye when she was performing so poorly. Transfiguration wasn't even the last class on her schedule, so she had to try her best to ignore that she was struggling. Rosie was extremely eager for her private Transfiguration lessons to begin.
"We don't need textbooks!" George declared as he immediately trashed the textbooks off the table and onto the library's wooden paneling with a tremendous thud. How sacrilegious... Rosie nearly wanted to faint. Her perfect textbook that she had been keeping in mint condition was now thrown on the floor– crinkled pages and all.
"I can't believe you just did that," Rosie whisper-shouted.
"Well, I just did," George said, "All you really need is the space to practice. You did all the readings, and we went over all the details mentioned in the book. Now, it's time to do the actual spell, Rosie."
Shivers down Rosie's spine. George and Rosie mutually decided to be on a first-name basis, per George's request. He said that he liked the familiarity of it all– whatever that meant. Rosie was not sure.
Rosie and George also mutually decided that their meeting spot would be the desk by the history section in the library. George insisted that no student had ventured out of their own curiosity towards that side of the building. Hogwarts' students were merely less interested in the history behind their current world and focused on the present. They liked magic. And that's what the majority cared about. Not how the first wizards created the incantations for 'wingardium leviosa'. Who cared about that? Who cared about history? Rosie said there would be a handful of students passing now and then in the history section, and George said he was counting exactly on that. That only a handful would barely be reaching out to the history section.
"I can't do it," Rosie said.
"Why not?" George asked.
"Because– Because I just can't!"
"And that is exactly why you can't do it. Rosie, we've been practicing this for quite some time now," George added, "You can do it!"
"I can't."
"Yes, you can."
"I can't." Rosie gritted through her teeth.
"Trust me," George said, "You know what you're doing."
He set a scarlet napkin on the table in front of them. He stood behind Rosie as she sat in her chair, confronting her problem.
"Loose wrist, and loudly," George reminded.
Rosie took a deep breath, "Got it. Loose wrist, and loudly," she repeated. She stared the napkin down and pointed her wand at the napkin. She enunciated her vowels, and she waved her wand in the motion, making sure to snap her wrist at the end.
Slowly, but surely, the napkin folded into a canary. Each edge had formed wings, a tail, and a beak. The canary flapped its paper wings and flew in a small circle.
Rosie jumped out of her seat, "I-I did it. I did it!"
"I knew you could do it!" George shouted.
The two wrapped their arms around each other, jumping up and down, and shouted out in celebration.
"Shh!" A student called out. Rosie and George apologized immediately. And that was when they noticed the situation they were in. Arms around one another–in a close embrace. Flustered, the two separated themselves almost instantly.
"C-Congrats," George said, "See. I knew you could do it."
"This does make me feel a lot better about myself. Thanks. I feel very prepared for this week's demonstration," Rosie said.
The grand clock chimed six times.
"With that said, I think it's time for me to leave," Rosie brought up.
"Are doing anything special? A party at the Slytherin house?" George asked.
"No, what makes you ask that?"
"You look… Nice." George scratched his neck.
"Oh, I'm just trying something new."
"I see," he remarked. George wore a blank expression on his face.
"Anyway, it's dinner, and my friends are probably growing suspicious about where I am," Rosie mentioned.
"O-Of course, go ahead. You can leave first, so we aren't seen going out at the same time," George said. Then he waved Rosie goodbye'.
The demonstration on Friday's Transfiguration classes was successful! Rosie could not have felt more proud herself when she caught the slight smile on the corner of McGonagall's lips.
"I'm impressed with the improvement, Ms. Anh," McGonagall said, "Looking forward to your classwork in the future."
Rosie felt like she could rule the world. McGonagall's compliments were always the best and the most genuine. She wanted what was best for the students– no matter what house they came from, despite her originating and being the house head of Gryffindor.
"How did you do that? You said you couldn't even do it last weekend?" Daphne asked.
"I was practicing," Rosie put it simply. She didn't want to go into too much detail. She didn't want to jeopardize her arrangement with George.
"Hm," Daphne said, "That was fast. Maybe you should help me too."
"I can give you a few tips, but I'm not much of a teacher," Rosie offered.
"I'll take anything I can get. I don't want the other Slytherins to think I need help or some tutor."
"A tutor isn't the worst idea."
"Rosie, it's the worst idea. Think of all Slytherin house laughing in your face because you weren't able to perform a spell by yourself."
"I guess…" Rosie said. "Anyway, are we doing anything for Hogsmeade this weekend?"
"Oh, about that– a message from an upperclassman: Pucey was wondering what was the 411 on his little date request."
"Ugh, don't say it like that."
"Whether you like it or not, it's a date. A date is a date."
"I don't know if I want to go."
"Well, your brother would kill you."
"That's it!" Rosie said. "Perhaps I can let it slip to Cameron about this little date thing," she proclaimed.
"You're nuts."
Rosie took the argument to Tiffany. It was the night before Hogsmeade weekend, and the girls were talking about their plans for the next day in the Ravenclaw dorms. The girls rarely went into the Ravenclaw house. Some students of their lot were extremely against having Slytherins present. Rosie liked the Ravenclaw house. It was sleek like Slytherin house, except naturally, it was designed in various shades of blues. Rosie loved how much light came in through the wide, arched windows. And the constellation-cluttered night sky painted on the ceiling was the perfect touch for the house of intelligence and wisdom. Less angular shapes. More domed structures.
Most Ravenclaw students– the ones who cared about school, slept early. But, there were different types of Ravenclaw students. Not all of them were textbook smart. Some students were street smart and some students were emotionally smart. So, you could imagine how Rosie was more than a bit embarrassed when she realized that there was more to Ravenclaw than just knowing how to study or how to stuff your head full of books.
The rooms were even cooler. Domed with skylights from above. Drapes of blue fabrics sprouted out like a flower from the center of the ceiling. Different from the Slytherin dorms, Ravenclaws had five to a room, unlike the Slytherin's roommate pairs. Similar to the five drapes sprouting from the ceiling, there were five beds underneath each one. A circular table dawned at the true center of the room. Tiffany said that she used it as a makeup table. Her roommates would complain all the time for her to clear it.
"Ravenclaws are such a bore!" Tiffany would always say. "They never know how to party. Or even if we do wanna party, those hermits never want us to make any racket because they're studying."
When Rosie finally brought up the argument to Tiffany, her response was–
"-OMG, I love an overprotective brother moment!" Tiffany squealed. This time she was sprawled on her bed…
"That's not what she was asking," Daphne stated, "Rosie should just go on that date for experience, right?" Daphne was sitting in front of her vanity, using a vanishing spell for her makeup.
"I've always wanted to have an older brother who'd take care of me all the time," Tiffany cooed, her hands clasped as if wishing.
"Having an older brother is not what it ought to be. They're controlling and-and devilishly suspicious of your every move," Rosie complained, "And as much as I hate that, it's the pure reason why I can trust Cameron to see this through."
"Aww, you're relying on your brother to help you," Tiffany continued.
"This is besides the subject matter!" Daphne disagreed. "Getting off-topic here. Rosie, for merlin's sake just go! And if you despise it so completely, just ditch Pucey in the middle of it all."
Tiffany squealed, "No way! Adrian Pucey did not just ask you out! He's like one of the hottest Slytherin quidditch players– besides your brother."
"Please don't say that again," Rosie cringed, "Because I will literally puke."
"You really value Tiffany's botched opinion over mine? No offense, Tiff," Daphne said.
"Well, I never voiced my opinion, and on a serious note, I think you should go, Rosie," Tiffany said, "You might enjoy it more than you think you will."
"Okay, I take it back. Tiff's opinion isn't so botched anymore," Daphne apologized.
"Going to ignore that," Tiffany side-eyed Daphne, "Anyway, Rosie, for as long as I've known you, you've never been that interested in boys. You should go on that date and if it sucks, it sucks. And then you can tell us what a terrible date Adrian was. You're going to still let your brother control your life and make the decisions for you?"
"Fine. I'll do it." Rosie gave up. "I'm sick of hearing this. You lot are so lucky I decided to ask for your advice in the first place. Next time, I'm going to keep it to myself."
Now it was time for the awkward part. Adrian was very obviously waiting for Rosie's answer back in the common room. It was about time for everyone to head to bed and he was sitting "reading" on one of the lounge couches. Daphne could not get enough of it. When Rosie entered the room, Adrian put down his book and stood up.
"See you later. Let me know how it goes," Daphne said with goo-goo eyes. Rosie rolled her eyes, and Daphne headed up to the dorm room first. There were only several other students down in the common room, using up their last minutes before Snape's thorough roll-call.
"H-Hey, I was waiting for you," Adrian yawned.
Rosie felt a tiny bit of remorse after seeing his face. His eyes were tired, half-lidded.
"I could tell you were," Rosie said, "And I wanted to say that 'sure' I'd be honored to spend time with you tomorrow."
Adrian's half-lidded eyes widened as much as they possibly could, "A-Alright then."
Rosie nodded, "So, I'll see you tomorrow."
"D-Definitely! Oh– um– tomorrow at one, we meet at the courtyard pathway to Hogsmeade?" Adrian asked.
"Sure, I'll see you there." And with those words, Rosie went upstairs to her dorm room. She had to get her beauty sleep because tomorrow was going to be her first date.
Rosie was up bright and early the next day. Daphne helped her get ready. This time, Daphne monitored Rosie when she was doing her makeup. Rosie wanted to see if she could do it herself but needed Daphne to be her security blanket. It was a colder day than usual, so Rosie wore a thick pair of jeans— those types of jeans that fit you just right, and on top, she wore a mock-neck long-sleeve with a knit vest. Rosie also wanted to wear a beanie to cover her ears. Daphne advised her and convinced her not to do that. Daphne insisted on the headband. She said that the headband gave her some height on the top of her head, giving the illusion that Rosie was much taller than she was.
Adrian was waiting for Rosie in the courtyard by the sycamore tree. It was at the gate pathway to Hogsmeade. He was in a large, evergreen trenchcoat, earmuffs, and dragonskin leather gloves. Adrian was a head-to-toe ad filthy rich snob, but at least he was a cute one. And he was waiting there at the sycamore tree at one like he had promised last night. He had manners.
"Haven't been waiting too long, have you?" Rosie walked up to him.
"No-no, haven't been waiting long at all," Adrian smiled. "And I wanted to say that you look pretty."
"You look pretty handsome yourself," Rosie returned.
"Shall we go then?" Adrian asked, and he and Rosie headed down their way to Hogsmeade.
Snow-covered store tops and smoke billowing out of the chimneys. Falling snowflakes from the sky. A winter wonderland. A witch and wizard quartet singing Christmas carols. 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs'. 'I Cast a Spell on Father Christmas'. Rosie felt like she was in a holiday picture. Adrian must have done it on purpose.
Rosie and Adrian made their first stop at Zonko's per Rosie's request. She had to re-stock on some sugar quills for class. Rosie felt horrible to admit that she was having a lot more fun with Adrian than she thought before this outing. Adrian told her the most hilarious stories about the pranks he pulled on Cameron. For example, the first time Adrian got Camron to try an acid pop. Quite the conundrum Adrian caused. Cameron fainted at the sight of the hold burned through his tongue.
Adrian thought it was a hoot when Rosie told her recollection of memories of using Zonko products in class. The number of times she used a sugar quill in class, especially in Potions, would have been against the law. Or if there was an official world record for most sugar quills eaten, Rosie would have definitely garnered the top spot.
"You know, I didn't think Zonko's was your thing," Rosie admitted as she and Adrian continued to window shop at Zonko's. "Always took you for the type to think prank goods were ridiculous."
"I've never met a single person who didn't like Zonko's– except for Snape perhaps," Adrian stated. He followed close behind Rosie as she browsed through the stocked shelves inside Zonko's. His presence was warm.
Rosie was rather intrigued by how attentive Adrian was. He offered his scarf and gloves when she shivered and when Rosie wanted to move on to the next store, Adrian obliged to that sentiment as well. When Rosie entertained the idea of food, Adrian decided that they should eat lunch at Hog's Head. Adrian opened the door for her on the way inside.
"The booth in the corner please," Adrian told the host at the front, secretly slipping him a galleon or two as he whispered into the host's ear.
"This way," the host beckoned, seating Adrian and Rosie in the corner of the pub.
"I asked him to seat us in a secluded area, so I can get to know you better," Adrian smiled. He slid onto the velvety seats surrounding the round table. The lighting was dim and soft. Rosie and Adrian talked as they ate their food.
"No, you were acting so snobbish at your family dinner," Rosie laughed.
"Seriously?! Cameron never told me that. Oh, merlin! I must have sounded like such a prick." Adrian apologized, "I must have sounded like a douche."
"Don't say that about yourself," Rosie said.
"Oh, my parents act stuck up and posh 24/7. They must have rubbed off on me," Adrian accepted, "So, I must have sounded just as horrible as them. Believe me, I know how out of touch they are."
"You aren't as terrible as you say you are, and your parents are a whole next level of privilege-ness." Rosie replied, "Honestly."
"That's nice of you to say, Rosie," Adrian continued, "And I just wanted to say, you're more talkative than I thought you were."
"Sorry, I must be yapping your ear off," Rosie said.
"No, that's not what I meant," Adrian said, "Rosie… I meant that I actually really really like how you are right now."
"That's very sweet." Rosie smiled at Adrian, and as she said those words, she realized the familiar position she had gotten herself into. Like George in the hallway.
Adrian leaned in close to her. The dim lighting softly lit the side profile of his sharp features. Rosie hesitated. She didn't even like Adrian that much, yet at that moment, she wanted to know what it felt like… His lips looked so– looked so– his lips– they looked so soft-
"-hot chocolate for two?" The host said. He set two mugs of hot cocoa in front of Rosie and Adrian.
"We didn't order this," Adrian said, his voice frantic.
"It was from the gentleman from table seven." the host said.
"Who?" Rosie asked.
"The pair over there," the host pointed.
Waving over at table seven were a set of twins with a very recognizable shade of red hair. The twins walked up to the table.
"Oi, Pucey," Fred said, "Mate, we wanted to compensate you for the bet you placed for the first trial for the Triwizard Tournament."
"Thanks, mate. I was wondering when you'd get back to me, but now's not the best time," Adrian politely declined.
"Come on, now," Fred said, "My brother and I are very busy people."
"Okay, let's settle this then," Adrian grabbed out his velvet bag of coins. Fred brought out his bag of coins as well.
"You look like you're having fun," George whispered to Rosie on the side.
Yes. Rosie thought. The twin who spoke first was Fred, and the twin that spoke to Rosie was George. Listening to George's voice in their private lessons, helped Rosie differentiate between him and his twin. His voice had a deeper, more husky timbre to it. Now, Rosie was fairly confident that she could tell the two twins apart.
"Yes, I am," Rosie said.
"Oh no! Pucey, I've run out of coins, I need to give you several more sickles. You're going to have to come back to school right now, so I can compensate you while I still have the money on me." Fred dragged Adrian out of his seat.
"I'm so sorry, Rosie. I have to go. Weasley is being a bit pushy, and I got to get my money's worth. Sorry to cut this short," Adrian said.
Rosie's shoulders slumped as Fred pulled her date out of Hog's Head.
"May I join you?" George said. "I feel bad leaving you alone. I apologize for Fred. That's just how his brain works when it comes to business."
"Go ahead," Rosie offered Adrian's seat to George.
"Also, Rosie you should know better than to sit at this table in Hog's Head," George warned, "This table is a rather famous landmark for a snog-fest."
Rosie's mouth dropped, "Adrian wouldn't do that! He's a gentleman."
"Hate to break it to you, sweetie, but Adrian is still biologically part of the male species and a male's radar on women tends to go absolutely mad."
Rosie wanted to argue in the absence of her date. Adrian was a gentleman through and through. Even if Adrian requested for the lover's table on purpose, Rosie knew that Adrian would not press her to do anything she did not want to. On the flip side, Rosie hardly knew Adrian besides the front he was showing her throughout their Hogsmeade outing. A prime mystery. Rosie just knew that she was okay with getting to know Adrian more.
"You're speechless," George smirked, "And that means you think I'm right."
"Shove off," Rosie pouted, "Everything was going so well this week. We didn't get caught studying at the library. I was able to make my napkin turn into a bird in Transfiguration class, McGonagall complimented me, and I got to go on this date with a boy I actually think is cute."
George whistled, "Gee, Rosie. I'm sorry. I really am… I didn't know you were being serious."
"Well– I am! I was having a perfectly swell two days until now," Rosie retorted. "All of this nonsense is driving me crazy," she murmured.
"If it's going to make you feel any better, how about I make it up to you?" George said.
"What in the world could possibly make me feel any better, George?" Rosie crossed her arms.
"You know you shouldn't make that face, Rosie," George said as he teasingly poked Rosie's forehead. "All the boys will think that–"
"- Think what?" Rosie asked.
"Nevermind," George said, "I'll make it up to you– this lousy date."
"It wasn't lousy. Just-cut-short," Rosie reminded.
"Feisty, are we?" George smirked, getting all up in Rosie's face.
"Only if I need to," Rosie whispered. She pushed George's chest, making him sit back in the booth's leather seating.
"Lemme show you something cool," George grabbed Rosie's hand, leading her out of the booth.
"One sec, I have to pay the bill," Rosie stopped.
"Covered," George said. He turned to the host, "Thanks again," he shouted. He opened the door to the snowy outdoors.
"W-Wait, I thought you guys didn't have enough money for Adrian's bet–"
A/N: A lot longer than I'm used to writing, but how was that, huh?