Cornwall, April 1985
The manor was quieter than usual. No music, no chatter, only silence and footsteps. I hid behind a banister on the staircase, listening in on my father's conversation in the parlour.
"She requested France," Father said, his voice anguished.
"I know, Wilfred, but she wrote that bloody thing ages ago," the voice belonged to one of father's friends — Cygnus Black. "Maybe she would want to be buried somewhere closer to the children, perhaps a tomb on the estate?"
"Non! Do not soil my sister's spirit with zis barren land," Aunt Marion yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
I jumped back, trying to hide myself better, but she caught me. She glanced at me and put a finger to her nose as if to tell me to keep quiet, then she shooed me away with a wave of her hand. I pretended to quietly walk back up the stairs as she entered the parlour and disappeared from my view, but then quickly returned to my position behind the bannister.
"But the children—" Cygnus continued, but Marion cut him off.
"Should come and live with me. There, solved."
"No." Father strongly replied.
"Think, Wilfred, what will 'appen to zem if you are locked up?"
"I won't be. I will not part from them."
Cygnus scoffed. "Seriously Marion, they would've done something by now if they even suspected him."
"Oh, like zey suspected your daughter? Bellatrix, non?" her words sounded poisonous. "Or perhaps Walburga's boy, I 'eard he didn't even go on trial."
"You spiteful—"
Father sighed heavily. "Enough, please. My head will explode."
They were silent for a few minutes, only sounds of moving glasses and liquids being poured came from the dimly lit room.
"I intend to honor her wishes." Father's voice broke the silence. "We will prepare for travel in three days."
Aunt Marion spoke gently now. "You need to prepare Rosalie and Theodore for more than just travel..."
The mention of my name gripped me tighter to their conversation, but sudden footsteps from upstairs startled me out of my position.
Theo's little frame came into view. "Rosie, where is mama?"
I quickly walked up to him, guiding him upstairs.
"Why are you out of bed?"
His gentle little eyes filled with tears as he gripped my hand. "I want mama!"
"Shh, or Father will see us out of bed," my eyes swelled too, but I tried my best to hide it from him.
I led him toward my room, farthest from where our mother was lying like the marble statues in our gardens. I set up more pillows on my bed and tucked us both in beneath the covers.
"Wanna see something wicked?" I whispered to him, like it would be a grand secret between us, and he nodded. "Mama taught me to make the stars dance."
Small dainty light erupted all around us, some in different colors and with different intensities of light. They moved elegantly across the room, filling the empty space with dancing light and shine. Theo finally giggled, watching the universe unfold above us with wide eyes.
"Again, do it again!"—
—
December 26th, 1994
The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a pale glow in our dormitory. My head throbbed painfully, and I groaned, regretting every celebratory sip of Firewhiskey and questionable potion that I drank the previous night. Beside me, Amelia emitted a sound that perfectly captured the essence of our collective suffering and tugged at the duvet we were sharing.
"Ugh, what hit us last night?" she mumbled, her voice a gravelly mix of regret.
I managed a feeble attempt at humor. "I reckon a Bludger to the head might've been more merciful."
Natalie snored loudly from her own bed.
Amelia propped herself up on her elbows, squinting against the unwelcome brightness. "Tell me we at least had a good time."
A weak chuckle escaped my dry lips. "Remember betting against the Ravenclaws?"
She winced. "Did we win?"
"No idea," I replied, my memory of the night hazy at best. "At least Graham had a good night."
The mention of Graham prompted Amelia to sit up abruptly. "Wait, are they a pair now?"
I shrugged, or at least attempted to with my aching muscles. "Who knows? Rivals, dance partners – it's a thin line. Fleur and I accidentally stumbled upon them in the hedges on our way up."
Amelia's eyes widened. "No way! What were they doing?"
"Having an intense conversation about schoolwork, I'm sure," I snorted, struggling to recall the blurred details. "We need a survival plan. Breakfast or a shower?"
Amelia sighed dramatically. "Both. And did you notice how effortlessly Granger pulled off that dress last night? Even dorks can surprise you."
I chuckled. "Hush now. I'm thinking coffee – lots of it."
Dragging ourselves to the Great Hall, Amelia and I navigated through the sea of post-Yule Ball debris and disheveled students. My head pounded in rhythm with each step, and the mere idea of food was both repulsive and exciting.
As we entered, the atmosphere buzzed with whispers and laughter, a mix of post-celebration exhaustion and the lingering magic of the Yule Ball. I scanned the room and found Theo, but he skillfully avoided eye contact. It seemed that my sixth sense for locating my brother was still intact, even if he probably wanted to be three castles away from me at the moment.
Amelia nudged me, pointing to the Slytherin table. "Why is your brother avoiding us like the plague?"
I obviously couldn't tell her the truth. "Hormones."
We settled at the table, and the owl post swooped in, delivering a barrage of letters and packages. I absentmindedly reached for a piece of toast when our family owl, with the unmistakable look of disdain, glided in. It circled the Great Hall, surveying the room with a gaze that seemed to say, "I'd rather be anywhere else."
With unnerving accuracy, the owl dropped the letter directly on my head. I looked up at it, unamused.
"Have you ever encountered an owl that genuinely despises you?" I mused to Amelia, rubbing my forehead where the heavy letter had made contact.
Amelia chuckled. "Maybe it's just not a morning owl."
As I pulled it off, the owl hooted and nicked my finger, as if scoffing at my lack of appreciation for its delivery service. It snagged a piece of meat from my plate and then took off with an almost majestic disdain.
I wasn't really expecting any post, seeing as all of the gifts were already delivered. Creams and perfume from Narcissa, an obnoxiously expensive pair of black leather boots from my aunt in France, and a whole new set of pearls and diamonds from my father were all neatly put under the tree for me yesterday. "For my champion," he wrote. As I opened more gifts from family friends and my mother's far-off relatives, a gift from my brother was notably missing.
I've put his own gift back in my trunk, unsure if he would accept it even if I gave it to him. The disappointment was slightly dulled by the fact that Charlie sent me his scarf. The crimson and gold scarf even had his initials embroidered in fine gold thread, just as the green and silver scarf had mine in silver thread.
Did my owl make a miraculous journey and get to him early, so that was his response? Or did we both have the same thought? I chose to believe the latter.
With the letter in my hands, the owl's peculiar behaviour lingered in the back of my mind as I read the words scrawled in ink.
Merry Christmas slags.
Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at 9 pm on the 31st.
Don't forget the keys!
Kisses,
Mags
Three antique-looking golden keys with black satin bows were inside the envelope. I held one of them up to get a closer look.
"I'm guessing we're not going to see the Weird Sisters on New Year's?" Amelia said, inspecting one of the keys herself.
"We literally listened to them last night." I nudged her. "Besides, Tremlett is a lousy kisser."
Amelia's eyes were as wide as she could physically open them. "You're kidding?!"
"I lied; it was a fun summer."
—
December 31st, 1994
In the dark corners of Hogsmeade, bathed in the subtle glow of the winter night, the three of us embarked on our journey. We were looking everywhere around us, hoping not to get caught.
Amelia wore most obnoxious fur coat I had ever laid eyes on, strolled with an air of nonchalance. Meanwhile, Graham, as simple as ever, sported shiny golden "1995" glasses that added a touch of glamour to his pants-and-shirt ensemble. I wore the diamonds gifted by my father, paired with a silvery slip dress that almost showed more than it would be decent, and my new leather boots. Graham and I opted for our normal winter cloaks instead of Pygmy puff fur or whatever fur it was that Amelia was draped in.
The mission seemed to promise great success, and with some anticipation in the air, we apparated from Hogsmeade to Dufftown, a town blanketed in the velvety hues of night. I was the only one old enough to use magic outside of school, but since I didn't quite pass my Apparition exam yet, going as far as London with two other people seemed more like suicide. We summoned the Knight Bus, its exterior a chaotic patchwork of advertisements. The erratic ride was an adventure in itself, with us clinging to the rickety handrails as the purple triple-decker navigated the currents.
The Leaky Cauldron materialized in the dimly lit streets of London, merely a few stops after the bus picked us up in the Scottish Highlands. Stepping inside, we were enveloped by the warmth and different smells and sounds – clinking glasses, faint murmurs, and the crackling of logs.
Maggie Davies, the ringleader of our evening, excitedly waved at us from a corner table.
"Oh Marlin, how I've missed you lot." Maggie squealed while hugging us one by one. Her left arm was in some sort of an improvised red satin sling. Guessing that the newest treatments her parents sent her to didn't work, I decided it would be best not to mention anything.
"How's the arm Mags? Any Quaffles in your near future?" Graham gladly opened the can of worms.
Maggie looked very thin, even thinner than last summer, her once long and thick dark hair was now up to her shoulders in a blunt cut, it seemed to have lost some of its shine. Her grey eyes looked at Graham as if holding something back; perhaps it was worse than I thought, and she just didn't want to burden us.
"No, but I do see your face in front of my fist." Suddenly she was smiling, "Gosh, look at you two girls, it's as if someone died. I'm fine, promise!"
Amelia hugged her tightly. "Just let us be worried."
"Oh, you should be worried." Maggie gave us a sheepish smile. "We're going to a Muggle party."
Graham raised an eyebrow. "A Muggle party?"
Leaning in, Maggie's voice took on a conspiratorial tone. "It's the kind of party where the boundaries between magic and mystery blur." She abruptly turned towards the door. "Does anyone know how to drive a car?"
—
Graham's driving left much to be desired, but he did get us to the address Maggie gracefully provided him with in one piece.
"We should leave our wands in the car, right?" Amelia asked.
We all looked at each other confused, but then I remembered the time Graham got drunk and started maniacally throwing tickling charms around and agreed with her. Perhaps we were thinking the same because not a moment later, all four of us left them in the trunk of the red Ford Fiesta.
We were in Soho, and while the streets certainly weren't quiet, nothing really screamed a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Maggie approached a seemingly ordinary house and inserted her key into the front door.
A doorman, dressed in an outfit that could only be described as a blend of futuristic chic and extravagance, greeted us when the door opened. He politely requested we surrender all of our keys and then escorted us through the hallway.
The house pulsed with vibrant energy as we ventured deeper inside. The walls of the five-story house seemed to breathe with a rhythmic glow, and the air was infused with a heady mix of exotic scents. The music, deafening in its intensity, echoed through the halls, coaxing us deeper into the labyrinthine corridor.
Costumes adorned the eclectic crowd, each ensemble more eccentric than the last. Wizards mingled with Muggles, their outfits a kaleidoscope of colors, fabrics, and sheer audacity. Dancers, their bodies adorned with enchanted lights, moved in fluid motions, casting ephemeral trails of brilliance as they twirled and leaped. It was a magical discotheque where the boundaries of reality were mere suggestions — and not a single Muggle seemed to notice all of the magic around us.
Maggie, with a glint of mischief in her eyes, led us through the pulsating crowd. The rooms were transformed into immersive environments, each one a different world of sights and sounds. In one corner, a bar offered drinks that sparkled with enchantments, while in another, a divination booth enticed partygoers to glimpse into the future.
On the third floor, there was an extraordinary room that would keep you hypnotized. You could just stand next to the colorful fumes that were coming out of an oil lamp, and you would be transported into the most exotic places in the world. It took all of our might to separate from it.
As we traversed the surreal landscape, we encountered so many unfamiliar faces. Muggles, dressed in elaborate outfits that defied the conventions of fashion, reveled in the magic surrounding them, not realizing that it was not some elaborate trick. It was a celebration of life, an ode to the extraordinary, and we were swept up in the whirlwind of the fantastical.
Flutes of champagne, carried by scarcely clothed, exceptionally fit servers adorned in golden paint, were distributed in a constant flow.
Amelia squinted suspiciously at the colorful mints offered alongside the champagne. "What do you reckon these do?" she asked, turning to Maggie.
"Dunno, cure headaches? Or make you dance better," Maggie replied with a mischievous grin.
As we sampled the mysterious mints, it became apparent that dancing wasn't the only thing they enhanced.
We were swaying and turning for ages when, in the midst of my new kaleidoscopic discoveries, I bumped into a familiar face.
"Will?" I said, my voice breaking like an out-of-tune instrument.
Charlie's brother, accompanied by a pink-haired girl, turned around with an expression of pure shock. "Rose? What are you doing here?" he asked.
I giggled, enchanted by how the lights danced on top of the girl's hair. "Celebrating, obviously. What are you doing here?"
The girl chimed in, "You two know each other?"
Will began his introduction, but then she interrupted. "I'm just pulling your wand; I know who she is. Wotcher Rose, I'm Tonks."
"Pleasure to meet you!" I exclaimed, shaking her hand a bit too excitedly.
Will, still puzzled, continued, "What are you doing here?"
As shiny small confetti started raining down on us, Maggie gazed up in fascination. "Look, Rose, it's raining!" She made a couple of twirls in front of everyone. "It's raining glitter!"
"Are you two on drugs?" Will asked, his eyebrows furrowed further.
"'Cause damn, let me have some of that," Tonks seemed intrigued.
"No," Bill firmly stated.
"We're not on real drugs; that's disgusting. It's muggle drugs, like for your headaches and stuff," I explained with a defensive tone.
"I don't think those were for headaches," Maggie whispered to me, but somehow everyone heard.
"We might be on some drugs. For other aches. And stuff," Amelia interjected with a whisper, "Crap, Grams probably went to the lamp room."
"Oh, Merlin, we'll never get him out of there," I replied.
"Did you say the lamp room?" Tonks asked, intrigued.
Will explained. "She's here on Ministry business, and so nicely dragged me along instead of celebrating."
"Watch it, Weasley! We're friends, aren't we? And celebrating," Tonks said with a smile.
"On Ministry business? Oh, wow," I remarked, bemused.
Maggie pleaded, "Please don't take the lamp. I think I'll die if I don't get a chance to smell it again."
Bill, shifting the focus, asked, "Where's your wands?"
"In the car," I casually replied.
"You know how to drive a car?" he sounded very surprised.
"No, obviously," I retorted, dismissing it as if it was the silliest idea ever thought of.
"Tonks, let's get the lamp. And these idiots home," Will declared with determination.
"You'll have to catch me first!" Amelia declared, swiftly turning around to run away and instantly colliding with a server carrying a tower of champagne flutes.
Tonks was on her feet quickly, stopping a dozen of glasses from shattering on the floor with a flick of her wrist, while Will turned the waiter's attention away.
"We'll go get the car then," Maggie said nonchalantly. "If you see a guy trying to make out with the lamp, he's ours."
—
As we made our way towards the parked car right across the enchanting apartment, Maggie and I couldn't miss the two policemen standing by it, inspecting it very carefully. Nonchalantly, we approached them.
"Oh my god, they're like their Aurors," I whispered to Maggie.
"They are so cute. Look at that uniform," she replied, her eyes fixated on the policemen.
"Look at that hat," I added.
"Miss is this your car?" one of the policemen demanded, overhearing our conversation. He turned to me. "You can't park here."
"It was a compliment. You say thank you," Maggie said, giggling.
The policemen quickly shifted their attention. "IDs," one of them demanded.
"What the fuck are IDs?" I retorted.
One of them approached me a bit too quickly, and in a sudden burst of fear, all of the training that I had been subjected to by Graham suddenly ran through my mind.
I punched him in the face.
With a flash, chaos erupted. The other officer swiftly moved to handcuff me.
Maggie dashed towards him. "Take your hands off her!" She demanded.
"Miss, you just punched a police officer," the officer with the handcuffs reminded me.
"Maybe," I replied dismissively, slipping some Galleons I've fished out of my cloak into the policeman's pocket, "Maybe I didn't."
He took one, inspected the coin with confusion. "What even is this, board game money?"
"You have no respect for other cultures," I retorted, in a pathetic attempt to salvage what was left of my dignity.
Tonks ran out with Will and Graham right behind her. "Oh officers, let us explain—" She quickly turned their attention away from us, probably giving him some ridiculous excuse and using a bit of Confundo to clear our names.
Will started getting us in the car one by one; then he proceeded to pull himself into the driver's seat. "I'll get them home, Tonks. Meet later."
We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment.
"Where am I driving you to?"
"Oh, right." I shook my head from the back seat. "Drive towards the Natural History Museum, and I'll direct you from there."
An extremely awkward drive unfolded. We were all packed into the car; Tonks had left to take the lamp to the Ministry, and Will was driving us toward the townhouse. In the back, Amelia, Maggie, and I squeezed together, with Amelia snoring and drooling all over Maggie's shoulder. Upfront, Graham sat, his face planted against the fogged-up car window.
He sighed loudly. "What's even the purpose? I mean, you take it all away," He paused for a second. "Is there anything left?"
Silence followed his question, mostly because none of us understood what he was trying to say. Will drove us home, and while the others were waving him off as he Apparated away, I searched through the small marble statues and figures in the front garden to find the key. It didn't take me too long, and soon we were inside. We moved to the living room, where we lit a fire in the fireplace, and very quickly, we all fell asleep on the plush sofas and chairs.
Returning to the castle unnoticed in the morning would be a challenge, but that was a problem for tomorrow.