Chapter Three Part 3: Her Hogwarts Year: 1994
A/N: Hey, guys! I've been really cranking out these chapters, which is nice. I found some people to beta my chapters, so I am no longer looking for a beta reader. That's some good news! This chapter was sort of difficult for me to write, but here it goes! (This chapter is a little 18+, but just in one section. '0')
I racked together a playlist I use to write Rosie. Feel free to listen while reading or listen outside of reading! This time around, I was listening to 'Oriental Wind' by Joe Hisaishi, so I guess his music was the main contender for inspiration this time around.
playlist/2HBjw5LgTdoBPRJf0gZNTW?si=5c0475d07b214fca
- Love, Blossom '3'
"Come here," George said, holding on to Rosie's hand. He walked her over to Honeydukes.
"I don't see how candy is going to make me feel any better," Rosie said, feeling insulted. If George was going to treat her like a crying baby, someone to give candy to make them feel better, he had another thing coming.
George shushed Rosie. The Honeydukes' door rang as George opened it. The employee welcomed them in and went back to the cashier to help other Hogwarts students trying to purchase their items. George craned his neck over the mint-green aisles of sweet treats to see if anybody was following him. He walked quickly on the black and white tiled floor and to the corner of the room. There was a staircase leading down into nowhere. The staircase was blocked off with a rope and a sign that read: Employee's only. George completely neglected the sign and ducked underneath the roped entrance and led Rosie down the stairs to the basement floor of the shop, which was the storage space for all the candy stock.
"We're not supposed to be down here!" Rosie tugged George's hand back before he persistently pulled her along down the stairs.
"Hush, it's going to be fine. I've done this a million times," George played off. He pushed past several columns of cardboard boxes most likely filled with candy. It was nerve-wracking. Whenever George pushed a column of boxes the tiniest inch, he welcomed the loud noise of cardboard scratching against the dusty floor.
"It's around here somewhere," George muttered to himself as he was doing his own thing.
Rosie couldn't take her eyes off the staircase. It was as if she was glitching in an endless loop, worrying about getting caught. She was scared that one of the employees would remember they left something down in the basement and all of a sudden, catch the two students red-handed. Rosie never looked for trouble. She was a good kid or at least she thought she was a good kid- until now! Her track record at Hogwarts was pristine. No absences. No detentions. No fights. Rosie could have never thought that in a million years that she would wind up looking for trouble on purpose, although that part was entirely George's fault.
Her heart had never beat so fast. Rosie was not a rebel. She was a rule follower, especially under Snape's tyranny. Well– Snape wasn't so much a tyrant. If the Slytherins respected the rules, he left them alone. If Snape was one-hundred percent confident he could trust the students in his house to live by his rules, he could manage to let a few mishaps fly over his head. And, he was really good at giving the Slytherin extra brownie points in class, which was quite nice. Some teachers just hated to give Slytherin points- those teachers were obviously not Slytherin back in Rosie's day.
George began to tap his foot on the stone floor. One tap here and one tap there. Rosie thought George was absolutely losing his mind. He was almost too afraid to fully commit. Too afraid to step his foot fully down. Each stone– Two taps– Nothing. George moved on to the next stone. At this point, George might as well give themselves, so they can get caught.
"I think we need to restock the exploding bonbons," a voice echoed from above.
Rosie frantically tapped George's shoulder. George looked back at Rosie. He hushed her down, and then, he put one finger up to his lips as a sign for Rosie to be quiet. His foot tapping was getting sporadic in an uneven rhythm. There was completely no pattern to whatever it was George was doing.
Clicking of heels down the wooden stairs. Step, click. Step, click. It was all happening in slow motion. It was as if fate was prolonging the person from upstairs from coming down so that Rosie could die of anxiety. She hated that extensively…
"I-think-I-got-it-I-think-I-got-it," George whispered sharply. His foot tapped a stone tile and a hollow echo came out from underneath. He dropped to his knees, stuck his fingers into the cracks between the stone tiling, and lifted the hollow tile. Below was an empty, dark abyss covered in cobwebs. George used his hands to collect the cobwebs. He stuck his head into the abyss for a few quick seconds and then pulled out.
"C'mon then, you first," George pulled Rosie down to the floor, on her knees.
"You've got to be kidding me," Rosie groaned.
"Trust me, it's not as bad as you think it'd be. I've been down here before," George admitted.
"Bloody hell," Rosie replied. This so went against Father's rules of snooping, which made Rosie which she didn't follow George into Honeydukes. Getting a week's detention was not worth what any of this 'small' surprise was. The measures to get to the surprise were far too great. Father would definitely have been cross with Rosie. 'Where are your manners?" He would say. And Cameron... Cameron would absolutely blow a fuse and explode. He would have gone mad. He wouldn't have gotten mad for sneaking into the storage area of Honeydukes. Cameron was all for sneaking around if there was some type of benefit involved for him. It was the 'hanging out with George' part that would make Cameron go crazy.
"Well, Rosie you ought to go first. The drop is a bit deep and I ought to help you down it. It's the only proper thing to do," George explained.
Holding onto George's hand, one foot after the other, Rosie shimmied down the opening to the dark abyss, where the stone tile used to be. George let go of Rosie's hand when she could feel the ground on the tip of her toes. Rosie dropped onto a dirt pile. On the way down, the cobwebs had caught onto her clothes. It was pitch black down there and Rosie felt lucky that she wasn't really scared of spiders or insects for that matter. Rosie dug out her wand from her coat's pocket.
"Lumos," Said Rosie as a tiny ball of light sprouted from the tip of her wand. It was a tunnel. She had dropped into a tunnel.
It was George's turn to drop down the ditch. George was easily tall enough to reach the hole opening just by reaching his arms above his head, so he dropped down without much of a fall compared to Rosie. He held onto the edge of the opening and squeezed his body down- feet first- into the tunnel. George let out a knowing 'oh'. He pulled himself waist-up back up the opening and grabbed the stone tile he removed to reveal the secret tunnel, and he slid it back over the opening, encasing Rosie and him in total darkness. The only light now coming from Rosie's wand.
"There we go," George said, "See now, it isn't all that bad down here once you get used to the smell of wet dirt."
"EW," Rosie cringed, "How does it even smell like wet dirt when the floor's frozen solid? It's winter for merlin's sake," Rosie shivered.
"The scent's locked in probably," George answered.
"Delightful… " Rosie answered dismally. "So, what's the surprise here anyway. Surely not frozen dirt."
"Just follow me," George said with a wave of his wand, "Lumos."
"This way." George led Rosie down a dark alleyway– a long, never-ending tunnel…
The tunnel was surprisingly not that bad once you got used to the smell and the fact that you were walking underneath all of Hogsmeade. Speaking of surprises, the tunnel could not have been what George wanted to show Rosie. It really was one long tunnel—just one long tunnel to nowhere. There wasn't too much to converse about when Rosie was so nervous.
The two had been walking for some time when George came to a halt. Dead end. George turned off his cast for 'Lumos' off, and then he promptly tucked his wand away. He used his hand to scale the size of the dead end in front of them. He borrowed Rosie's wand to spell the dirt to form the shape of a slope. He said it was easier that way. Her wand was out and ready to use. The slope was more or less lopsided and sloppy.
"Ollivander's right," George said, "The wand does choose the wizard."
"I'll go first," George said. He climbed up the slope and instead of tapping with his foot, he used his hand to tap the ceiling. "Yup, still here." George used his wand to tap at the ceiling above and said dissendium. A square opening had slid open, and George went up first. The opening was smaller than the one at Hogsmeade, and George could barely squeeze himself through that one. George got himself through the square opening. He did it– somehow. Some contortionist shit. He was a lot more flexible than Rosie thought. George pulled Rosie out of the tunnel, and as he pulled her out, Rosie found herself in the hallways of Hogwarts, by the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Rosie grabbed onto the edge of the square opening to push herself out of the tunnel. The opening was right underneath that weird one-eyed witch statue– the one with the eye patch over the other eye. It reminded Rosie of the Fates Professor Binns mentioned in Greek mythology, and how the Fates used their eyes to see the future.
"Ugh, I can't pull myself up," Rosie said.
"Your arms are sort of weak," George smiled, offering his hand.
"Oh, shove off–" Rosie grunted as she attempted to lift herself up again. She was stuck in a mid-lift with her elbows locked into place.
"You good there?" George teased. "You look a little... Stuck." George's laugh was slowly transforming into a cackle.
Rosie decided to glare at George. She was agitated. And then, George fell silent...
...
...
"Are you going to help or what?" Rosie jabbed-
"-I'll-help," George quickly answered, immediately squatting down, setting his hands on each side of Rosie's waist to grab her up. "Careful with the footing there."
"Huh?" Rosie looked up at George, and as she did, she nicked her shoe on the edge of the tunnel opening.
Rosie fell into George, hands on his chest, pushing him into the statue. His arms around her waist. Her body enveloped by his. Rosie could feel his heart beating in his chest…
One-two-one-two-one-two-
-His chest was… Sturdier. He felt a lot stronger than he appeared to be.
"You fell right into me," George said with a nervous chuckle. He turned his head away with his arm covering his mouth.
"Oh, I am so sorry." Rosie pushed against his chest so that she could stand on her own. "I-I tripped as you can see."
"You don't have to worry about it." George leaned off of the one-eyed witch statue. "Um, but– hey, check it out. Now you know this secret passageway to Hogsmeade."
Rosie wanted to jump off a cliff...
...
...
...
And just when Rosie thought that the situation between her and George couldn't get any worse or awkward- The next day, behind the history section, Cameron, his Slytherin friends, and Adrian, were sitting smack dab, at the desk of Rosie and George's spot, by the bookshelf. And they weren't even studying! They were just messing around, hardly even utilizing the space for its actual purpose, which was to study!
George was to arrive soon, and Rosie couldn't let Cameron see George and her together again. She was hiding behind a bookshelf to see if her idiot of a brother was going to leave. She wondered if she could just shoo him away. She could just tell him that she found this place first, fair and square and that he should leave, but in the end, Rosie chose against that idea. If she revealed that the spot behind the history section was hers, she would be letting Cameron know her studying location. That would completely jeopardize the purpose of this place being the "secret" spot.
Well, it wasn't such a secret anymore. It was just knowing the fact that that spot was completely compromised sheerly because of Cameron's existence and his friends' existence, which ruined everything for Rosie.
"Something wrong?"
Rosie let out a small gasp and turned around. George was peeking around her shoulder. He spotted Cameron, and George's face went blank and dead.
"That's your brother, isn't it?" He asked, his face turning a shade paler.
"It is," Rosie said, "Which means we can't be here anymore." She went back to spying on her brother.
George set his hand on Rosie's shoulder, making Rosie feel chills up her arm.
"I know exactly where to go," George said.
Rosie could not believe that George had convinced her into blindly following him AGAIN. She had no idea where he was going. ZERO. So naturally, Rosie kept tagging along behind George. She was trying to not make it obvious that they were together. She kept a fair distance away from him. A precise 7 feet from each other to be exact.
George reassured Rosie that there was no way a single Gryffindor student would still be sleeping or hanging around the common room. It was something Rosie psyched herself out about. George said it was fine. It was around 2 pm, a weekend, and the students were most likely out of bed and down at Great Hall for lunch. There was absolutely no possibility of a single trace of that signature scarlet-gold uniform. 'That was just the plain ol' system' George would say to keep Rosie from freaking out. Every weekend, the Gryffindors would do what they do best: PARTY! Same schedule. Same routine. One: Party hard after the last classes of the week. Two: Go to Hogsmeade under the pretense of simply hanging out. Three: Head back to the dorm with stolen contraband. I.e., fire whiskey. And last, but not least, four: Stay up the whole night, get mad drunk, and sleep in until high past noon.
Rosie closed the distance between her and George at the moving staircases. Less students were around since they were literally on the stairs. They were far more occupied with their own endeavors of making it to the right pit stop. The stairs were finicky that way. It kept students on their toes as well as a pain in the arse to pay attention to. Imagine you miss the staircase by a pure second, and then you have to wait for the same pattern over and over again just to get started on the right path.
"The place should have cleared out by now," George said. He stepped off of the last moving staircase. And Rosie followed before the staircase could move again.
"You have got to be joking," Rosie groaned.
Out of all the places George could choose, why did it have to be Gryffindor tower! Why?! Why the bloody-Gryffindor-tower! Rosie was extremely tempted in making a run for it.
"Me, joking?" George said, "I hope you know that pranks and jokes are rather on theme for my brand and all–"
"-and-why-are-you-backing-away?" George asked perplexed.
"Excuse me!? How in the world could you not think that this dodgy scenario would not get us caught?" Rosie cried out.
"Oh, poppycock," George waved off, "Everyone is out and about, doing who knows what. We have the commons to ourselves. I swear." George crosses his fingers in front of Rosie as proof.
"I'm… Not sure. Maybe we shouldn't be doing this."
"You're chickening out on me." George rolled his eyes.
"Wha– No-I'm-not," Rosie nearly shrieked, "I am not chickening out."
"Face it, Rosie. You're frightened," George added in snidely.
Rosie wanted to punch that smug expression off his face.
"Take. That. Back." Said Rosie-
"-Nope," George smirked.
"Fine. You know what? Open the door."
Rosie shoved George to the portrait entrance.
"I knew I could convince you," George nudged Rosie with his elbow as he danced a victorious jig to the Gryffindor tower portrait.
"Honeydukes," George said to the lady in the portrait. The lady nodded and POP opened the door.
"I knew I could convince you," George whispered in Rosie's ear, "And besides, I know you need the help in Transfiguration."
Rosie almost wanted to faint at the sight of the common room. It was completely horrendous. There was a shocking amount of empty bottles of fire whiskey and half-drunken glasses of an unknown mixture of things that were spilling their contents onto the carpeted floor. Pieces of unidentifiable food were compressed against the scarlet walls and ceilings.
"Sorry, food fight," George shrugged off.
Thick blankets were thrown onto the floor and couches. Plenty of students must have been knocked out the night prior. And the fireplace had nothing, but small remnants of pieces of glowing ember inside of it. Underneath it, piles of ash.
"We should go up to my room," George said.
He climbed up the spiral staircase to the boy's sixth-year dorms and walked down the hall to the correct room. It was really nothing special. Wooden flooring. Wooden doors, and pale, stone walls.
"Don't worry about my mates showing up, they're probably at the quidditch pitch messing around or something," George said.
George opened the door to his dorm room, and Rosie feasted her eyes on the most remarkable mess she had ever seen. George shut the door fast with his back against the door.
"Could you wait a couple of minutes? I'll be real quick," George blurted out.
"Um, go ahead," Rosie allowed, and then George ran back inside his room without revealing it to Rosie's eyes.
While George was preoccupied with his racket of noise he called cleaning, Rosie was trying to bleach her eyes from the rather scarring scene that played before her eyes. The door opened for a second time. Clean room.
George scratched the back of his neck nervously, "Sorry about that. I told my mates to clean up after themselves."
Rosie drank in the sight of George's room, a boy's room. She could feel the adrenaline of excitement kick in. George sat down on his bed and patted the spot beside him, signaling Rosie to come join him. No desk in sight... George's bed was the furthest away from the entrance and closest to the one window in the room. George had tied back his bed curtains, revealing a new neatly made bed. Plain, white sheets. And two plain, white pillows covered by a scarlet duvet blanket.
Rosie was eager to know what forces of nature had caused George to come to the conclusion of studying in his room. He could have picked somewhere else. Literally, anywhere else!
George grabbed his Transfiguration textbook from his bedside table, "We can go over the spells you learned this week."
"I brought my textbook too if you want to go over the materials we read in class this week. Your textbook must cover a harder curriculum." Rosie reluctantly took her spot next to George, and as she did so, she felt the heel of her toe tap a small object that was peeking out from underneath the bed. She looked down. A thin, square-shaped package. Shiny. Metallic. And sealed air-tight, which outlined a circular ring shape- like a hula-hoop with a blanket laying over it. Rosie leaned down to get a closer look. The package was labeled with some letters in black text. The wrapper was labeled 'XL'.
Bed. Condom. Bed. George's bed. Condom. George's condom. 'XL' condom. George's 'XL' condom. George's 'XL' condom covering his- Rosie could not unsee the image-
"-Hey, you alright there?" George asked.
Rosie jumped in her seat.
George looked over to see what the problem was but Rosie kicked the package underneath the bed.
"-Nope–nothing," Rosie dismissed before George could connect the dots on Rosie's state of obvious discomfort with her new, recent discoveries.
"Suit yourself then," George said as he leaned against the headboard frame of his bed.
Rosie could hardly focus… Rosie did not want to know about George- (Eh-hem)- down there. George was nonchalantly acting as his usual fun self and Rosie… Rosie was trying to do the same… She was trying! She was trying her best despite being the worst liar known to mankind. When George asked if Rosie needed clarification on a certain concept, Rosie answered all too quickly. Why could she just not shut up!?
A bit into the lesson, George had begun to lay on his side as he used one arm to hold up his textbook, while he used the other arm for propping his head up to read. That spread the distance between him and Rosie, and the further his presence was away, the better for Rosie. He seemed pretty relaxed in the comfort of his own dorm. His eyes were half-lidded, and his body was sinking into the gentle shapes of his bed. He cushioned his head with his pillow, his voice growing softer and softer the further the lesson went on. Rosie had to sit closer to him to hear him.
She sat with her legs crisscrossed by George's thighs. George was barely reading the textbook. He was merely listening to Rosie's reading the text aloud, while he played with his bangs. Twisting strands of his fiery-red hair between his thumb and index finger. He had taken off his winter coat as it was quite warm inside the dorms. He was wearing his uniform underneath, which was odd since it was the weekend. George claimed that he hadn't changed after classes from the day before. He went straight to partying. Speaking of uniform, George had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his uniform shirt.
"I think that's it for today," George said, "I've had enough about reading where the origins of Transfiguration magic started. Honestly, you could have skipped this, Rosie."
"Context is important– especially when you don't have the natural knack for Transfiguration," Rosie mentioned, "That's what you have– natural talent."
"Just for Transfiguration. I suck at Potions," George said, "That's Fred's specialty. Last week, we were making a 'Felix Felicies' potion. I tried to follow the instructions when Fred was in the bathroom and it completely exploded on me. And the worst part- chopping was an absolute nightmare."
"Liquid Luck, right?" Rosie asked. "You can never chop those nasty black pellet things. They completely repel knives. You ought to crush them with the side of the blade."
"Where were you in during my Potions class?" George winced as if he were having flashbacks about that nightmare of a class. "The instructions didn't even say anything about crushing them. Where'd you learn that from?"
"Snape told me."
"There's absolutely no way Snape gave you advice out of his own volition. Teacher's pet-"
"-The only real teacher's pet is Draco-"
"-You call Malfoy by Draco? Ugh, I can't even say his first name without wanting to hurl."
"We're family friends, okay? We've been on a first-name basis ever since we were in cribs."
"I feel sorry for you."
"Sorry? I just think you hate on Draco and Snape more than you think you do."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know, the whole stigma surrounding Slytherins and Gryffindors actually being friends with each other? You sort of feed into that. Slytherins aren't all you shake them up to be."
"Give me one prime example– a real and positive example of something good and honest a Slytherin's done for a Gryffindor."
"Mmm…" Rosie thought… And she thought...
…
…
…
"See, you can't even begin to think of one example," George noted.
"How can you say that when I've barely begun to think?" Rosie sputtered in disbelief.
"If you need time to think it out, then there's something wrong," George remarked.
"Then what about this? I'll teach you every Potions technique I know in exchange for the Transfiguration lessons you've been giving me. It'll be a two-for-one type of deal."
"You're only going to teach me to prove something."
"Well, I guess I'll rescind my offer then. I am already on sixth-year potions because of-"
"-Woah! Wait a minute. I was still going to take you up on your offer. Fred's no good at teaching." George sat up from his lying position, bringing him face to face with Rosie. "All he does is make fun of you..." George's voice trailed off.
George looked into Rosie's eyes, and Rosie immediately looked away. She had to look at anything else that was not George-related. Rosie pinned her eyes on the first thing she could see. George's fringe. Still George-related, but at least it wasn't his very cute, doe-like eyes.
Rosie had to say something to release the tension, "You know, you should make sure to keep that fringe of yours. You've got a big forehead," Rosie said.
George's eyes widened in a blank stare. Did Rosie say something wrong? Then George broke out into a howling fit of laughter.
"What's so funny?" Rosie pouted.
George held his stomach from laughing so hard. He even took on this witch's cackle from his wild fit. And when he finally calmed down, he was wiping away the tears running down the corner of his eyes.
"What's so funny?" Rosie repeated.
"No one's ever told me that before," George said as he got out his last laugh, "My mum's always annoying me into cutting my hair shorter. She said that I needed to get these curtain bangs out of my face," George said.
"Probably because you're her son. She likes to see your face," Rosie teased.
"What about you?" George asked.
"What about me?" Rosie wondered.
"Do you like to see my face, or is that the reason why you said I should keep my fringe?" George smirked.
Rosie was almost too afraid to speak, fearing she would reveal her true feelings. "I think your face is just fine," her voice stuttered.
"You too," George whispered. Rosie watched George's lips mouth every syllable. She could feel herself leaning into George, and him leaning into her. "I really think that-," George continued, "-you, R-Rosie are so-are so-" George caressed Rosie's face and she leaned into his touch. And as Rosie waited for George to make his move, he just... Backed off.
George began to shake his head and stood up from the bed, "Rosie, I can't-"
What was that? W-Why didn't he do anything? He was the one who initiated it in the first place. There must have been something wrong. Something wrong with her.
"-I should go," Rosie said. She slid her textbooks into her bag, "I should go." She booked it to the door.
"Rosie, I didn't mean it that way!" George called after her. "Rosie!"
Rosie set her hand on the doorknob, and as she did so, the knob twisted itself and the door opened for her.
"I should bring Angelina to the Yule Ball, Lee. I just know-" Fred stopped in place. He looked Rosie up and down. "Um, I don't think you're allowed in here… I've never seen you in Gryffindor tower?"
"Who's that? Underclassman?" Said Lee. He peeked from behind Fred. Rosie could not be more glad that she was out of her uniform and was wearing a pretty neutral-colored winter coat. It didn't give away Rosie's house of origin.
"It's alright, mates. She's with me," George said as he was readjusting his uniform shirt.
Fred had an all-knowing expression growing onto his face, "Oh! Were you two busy here or something? 'Cuz we can go." A matching Cheshire-like grin stretched onto Fred and Lee's faces.
"We were studying," George interjected.
Fred's head turned, switching back between Rosie and George. George's rustled hair, loose tie, and an unbuttoned shirt. Rosie's flushed face, and her nervous expression. George's bedsheets were wrinkled and undone.
"Right, you were studying." Fred winked.
"Clear the way, you two." George pushed Fred and Lee aside, making room for Rosie.
George set his hand on the small of Rosie's back and led her out the door. He shut the door behind him, "Ignore them. They don't know any better."
"Of course," Rosie said blankly. She didn't want to talk to George any further.
George cleared his throat, "Um, let me walk you out. I have to see if the common room is cleared out."
George made his rounds in the common room area before letting Rosie come down from the boy's dormitory. Luckily, everyone was either at breakfast or at Hogsmeade– so why couldn't his twin and Lee do the same? He held open the portrait entrance for Rosie. He grabbed Rosie's hand before she could leave.
"Hey. Rosie, I'll make sure those two blabbermouths don't utter a single word," George said.
A/N: Wow!... Wasn't that a lot to unpack? But I love it!