Rose sat at the head of the table, gently caressing the brim of her teacup with one finger while skimming though a book in her other hand. She didn't particularly like tea, but when she had come downstairs that morning, she found Petunia brewing a batch for herself, so she grabbed a cup just to annoy her. Vernon was also there, unfortunately, siting on the other side of the table with his head was buried in the paper, desperately trying to pretend like she didn't exist. The nervous trembling that racked his body every so often seemed to indicate that he was failing.
Rose took a sip of her tea, then made a face at the bitter taste. Several sugar cubes lifted themselves from their bowl on the table and glided up and over into her cup. Vernon flinched, and Rose smiled. A nearby spoon came next, dipping itself into her teacup and stirring steadily until all the sugar had dissolved. It tapped itself on the edge of her cup twice to rid itself of lingering fluids, then floated gently back onto the table. Rose took another sip and smiled happily at the much sweeter flavour.
All the Dursleys liked to pretend she didn't exist nowadays. That suited Rose just fine. She also liked to pretend the Dursleys didn't exist. It was easier for everyone involved. The only time they ever really interacted was when Rose wanted something. And when Rose wanted something, the Durselys made damn sure it got done. They learned a long time ago not to upset her.
Petunia approached with a plate of breakfast. She set it down in front of Rose while studiously avoiding her gaze as she inspected the morning's selection. A hearty stack of strawberry pancakes with french toast and bacon. Rose smiled down at her food as Petunia went back to collect more for the rest of the Dursleys. She eagerly reached for her utensils and dug in. It wasn't terribly healthy, but Rose didn't much care for such things. Unlike Dudley, she didn't seem to gain any real weight, no matter what she ate. Mummy told her that it was because magic was very intensive and helped keep her thin. She didn't really see how that was but didn't have any reason to believe otherwise.
Speaking of Dudley, the fat boy came lumbering into the kitchen not long after she started eating. His eyes scanned the room, then quickly dropped to his feet after they fell upon Rose. She found it amusing but decided not to laugh. She was rather enjoying the quiet morning.
She ate silently for a while when Mummy suddenly spoke up. "You should do something for your birthday," she said.
Rose blinked, realizing that her birthday was indeed just a week away. She deliberated for a moment but couldn't think of anything in particular she wanted to do.
"Wasn't Dudley whining about wanting to go to the zoo a while ago?"
Rose frowned thoughtfully. Going just to spite him would be amusing, but she didn't find zoos all that appealing. Just a bunch of dirty, smelly animals she didn't care for.
"You could set them loose on the visitors."
Her lip twitched. That did sound entertaining but still not worth the effort of going all the way over there. She tried to think of other things to do, but nothing stood out in her mind.
While she thought, the quiet atmosphere was interrupted by a metal clank, signaling that the mail had arrived. Vernon looked up from his newspaper and opened his mouth, and Rose's eyes shot toward him, narrowing in ire.
"Vernon!" Petunia hissed before a sound left his lips.
He looked at her, slightly confused, then his eyes widened, and he shot a fearful glance at Rose. Sweat began to form on his brow when he saw her glare, and he quickly buried his head back in the paper, hands shaking.
Rose's glare lingered for a long while, but she eventually dropped her gaze back to her food and started munching on a slice of french toast.
Petunia let out a long, relieved sigh. "Dudley, dear," she said softly, glancing at Rose and then continuing when she didn't react. "Why don't you go and get the mail?"
Dudley had turned white with terror when the exchange started, and he eagerly took the chance to leave the room. Rose had already forgotten about the altercation and wondered if she should visit that new arcade that she heard opened up not too long ago. She didn't bother noticing Dudley's return or him handing a handful of envelopes to Vernon. Nor did she notice when he, body trembling, took a timid step toward her. Several seconds passed, and he let out a shaky, "U-um…" when Rose finally turned her attention to him.
She stared at him blankly, holding a single envelope in his quivering hands, then raised an irritated eyebrow.
"I-i-it's f-for you," he stammered out.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She never got letters. Who would write her? She briefly wondered if this was some sort of practical joke, but there was no way any of the Dursleys had the nerve, and she didn't know anyone else well enough to warrant such a thing.
The letter shot out of Dudley's hands, causing him to jump and run fearfully to the other side of the room. Rose caught it between her first two fingers and turned it to look at the address. She frowned when she saw what was written.
Ms. R. Evans,
The Master Bedroom,
4, Privet Drive,
Little Whinging,
Surrey
That was rather creepy. Why was it addressed to the master bedroom? Did the sender know where she slept? Did she have a stalker?
"I would have noticed if anyone was watching you, love," Mummy informed her reassuringly. Unfortunately, that still didn't explain the odd letter. She flipped it over and saw that the envelope was sealed with a wax crest, which only added to its strangeness.
She carefully peeled the envelope open and pulled out the letter inside. There were two pages, but the paper was unusually thick and slightly brown in color.
"Is that parchment?" Mummy asked incredulously.
Rose blinked in surprise. She'd never seen parchment before and wondered why on earth anyone would use it in this day and age.
"Well… it is far more durable than paper," Mummy conceded, "But it's just not worth the convenience of modern paper. At least not for something as simple as a letter."
More curious than ever, Rose unfolded the first page and began to read.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Ms. Evans,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Rose's frown deepened. "What kind of ridiculous name is Hogwarts?" she wondered aloud.
There was a sharp gasp and then the sound of shattering glass, and Rose looked up to see that Petunia had dropped Dudley's plate and was holding a hand over her mouth. Rose looked at her suspiciously. Her eyes trailed back to the letter in her hands, then again to her aunt. "Something you want to say, Petunia?" she asked, her voice deceptively calm.
Petunia shook, her mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.
Rose stood from her seat, abandoning her breakfast, and waved the letter in front of her. "Something about this Hogwarts, maybe?"
"I-its a… a school…" Petunia stammered out.
Rose narrowed her eyes. "So you do know something. If you knew about a school for-" she briefly looked down back at the letter then continued, "-witches, then why didn't you tell me? You didn't think I'd like to know about such a place?" she demanded.
Petunia shivered fearfully and wrapped her arms around her torso. "Y-you d-didn't ask,"
Rose laughed coldly. "Oh, 'Tuney," she said mockingly. "You know that's not an excuse."
Vernon rose from his seat suddenly. "Now see here," he said, even as Rose narrowed her eyes angrily. "I don't think that-"
"You don't get to speak, Vernon!" Rose shouted, interrupting him before he could get a thought out. She thrust her hand out and jerked it downward, and Vernon slammed back into his seat, the chair creaking at his weight. His necktie unraveled then wrapped itself around his mouth to gag him. "How many times do I have to tell you? Every nauseating noise that comes from your loathsome voice grates on my nerves!"
"You'd think he'd learn by now," Mummy said. "He's infuriatingly stubborn in all the wrong ways."
Rose agreed silently. "Stay seated," she ordered. "And don't try to speak again."
Normally she would have done worse, but she was distracted by her need to know more about this so-called school of witchcraft and wizardry, and so she left it at that and turned back to Petunia with a glare. "Talk," she said simply.
"Your mother went there," Petunia quickly said like she was trying to get it all out at once. "When she was your age."
Rose's eyes widened in shock, and she felt Mummy's surprise add to her own. The Dursleys never talked about her parents, and Rose never asked. She didn't even know their names. She had Mummy, and that was all she ever needed.
"My mother was… a witch?" Rose asked tentatively.
Petunia nodded hastily.
Rose's frown returned. "I obviously am one too. You must have known I would get this letter eventually, why keep it from me?"
"W-we thought… we were hoping…" Petunia stammered brokenly, unable to complete the thought.
Rose rolled her eyes. She already knew the Durselys weren't exactly forward-thinking, they probably just thought that the letter miraculously wouldn't come. Speaking of the letter, "What does it mean by owl?" she asked.
Petunia made a disgusted face. "They use… owls," she said distastefully. "To deliver their mail."
"Owls?" Rose repeated incredulously. She spent longer than was probably necessary attempting to figure out how that system of mail was feasible. How did the owls know where to go? Did they have a limited range? How long did it take to deliver a letter? Eventually, she managed to shake those thoughts and focused on the more important question. "Where am I to find an owl, anyway? Not to mention all these supplies," she added, looking through her list of supposed school items. Students could bring a toad? For what, as a pet? Who would want that?
Petunia shifted uncomfortably. "I- I'm not sure," she said uncertainly, and, when Rose looked up at her sharply, continued quickly, "Some funny-looking woman came to deliver your mother's letter. Explained all the… things she could do too. Then she took her away to some… alley of some sort to buy her things. I don't know why the same didn't happen for you.
"But…" Rose said carefully, trying to determine why she was acting so shifty, "You do know where this alley is?"
"S-sort of…" Petunia said, and Rose raised an impatient eyebrow. "There's a spot down in London," she continued, "Our parents would drop her off after that first year, but we couldn't enter ourselves, couldn't even see the place. She would just… vanish."
"Interesting," Mummy muttered thoughtfully, mirroring Rose's thoughts. Rose looked back down at the letter and studied it for a moment. She really didn't understand half of what was written, but it all sounded very interesting, once you got past the overly specific address.
"You'll take me there," Rose declared. "Today. I want to see this supposed alley."
Petunia could do nothing but nod in agreement, and Rose left the kitchen to head up to her room with the parting words, "We'll leave once I'm changed."
When Rose reached her room, she quickly changed out of her casual home wear into something more suitable. She honestly didn't know much about fashion, but she also cared little what others thought of her, so she ended up just throwing on whatever she thought looked cute. She grabbed a brush and spent several minutes attempting to tame her unruly hair. Petunia never liked dealing with it when she was younger, back before she knew better, and had forced her to keep it unreasonably short. Since then, Rose had grown it out partly out of spite. Unfortunately, that didn't change the fact that Rose's hair was a tangled, chaotic mess, no matter what she tried. She had tried to magick it into place, and while it worked for a while, the moment she lost focus, it sprung back into disorder.
In the end, she gave up with a huff and merely adjusted her bangs to properly show off her scar. Her scar was probably her favorite part about her. Maybe because it was so unnatural. It was shaped just like a lightning bolt and was red and raw like it had cut open just moments ago. Despite this, it didn't bleed, or hurt at all; in fact, when she reached up to gently trace along the scar's length, it tingled almost pleasantly.
Realizing she was getting distracted, Rose dropped her hand and grabbed her contacts when Mummy interrupted her.
"No, darling, keep your glasses on."
Rose groaned. "But, Mummy!" she whined.
"Oh come on sweetie, you look gorgeous in them."
Rose blushed involuntarily, but she wasn't sure she agreed. They were big, round things that Rose almost rejected outright the first time she saw them, but when she tried them on, Mummy commented on how adorable she looked, and then she couldn't help but buy them. They had grown on her since then, but she still wasn't sure she liked them and preferred to wear her contacts.
"Please, honey? For me?"
"Ugh," Rose groaned. "Fine."
"Yay!" Mummy cheered, and Rose's blush worsened, but she couldn't help but smile at the happiness in her voice.
With that, she was ready to leave and headed back downstairs. She saw Petunia waiting by the door, keys in hand, and Rose nodded approvingly. "Let's go."
Less than an hour later, Petunia parked the car on a seemingly random street corner.
"Is this it?" Rose asked.
"I- I think so," Petunia said hesitantly.
Rose looked around, but she didn't see anything unusual. Certainly, nothing to indicate anything magical.
"She would always walk off somewhere in that direction," Petunia said, gesturing vaguely toward one building in particular. "Your mother, I mean. Then she just sort of… disappeared."
Rose frowned. All she saw was a decrepit shop. "You mean that dingy-looking pub?"
Petunia gave her a confused look. "What pub?"
Rose returned the look. "That one right there," she pointed out. "The Leaky Cauldron."
Recognition flashed through Petunia's eyes. "The Leaky Cauldron? Yes, that's it! I remember now, the entrance to the alley is in the back of someplace called the Leaky Cauldron. It can't be seen, though, not by normal people. Only those… I mean, people like yourself can see it."
"Seriously?" Rose asked incredulously, and Petunia nodded her head emphatically. Rose sighed. "Fine, then. Give me your wallet." She dutifully handed it over, and Rose flipped through the bills inside. She didn't know how much she would need, so she just took it all and handed the wallet back. "Wait here for about half an hour," she told Petunia. "If I don't return by then, you can leave, but be back here by seven."
She opened the door to the car and was halfway out when Petunia grabbed her arm. Rose started and turned back to face her with a look that clearly said, 'you better have a good reason for touching me.'
"Those… people," she said. "They have a different currency. There's a bank in there, I think, you need to exchange the money."
Rose raised a surprised brow. "Well, well, you're using your brain for once," she said condescendingly. She pulled her arm out of her grip and left the car, giving Petunia one last look before she shut the door. "Thanks," she added, rather insincerely.
Pocketing the money, Rose entered the pub called the Leaky Cauldron. She wasn't any more impressed by the inside than the outside. The place was dark and shabby, and certainly didn't look like a place for schoolchildren. There weren't many people inside, which wasn't surprising given how early it was, but the few there were dressed oddly, wearing robes and cloaks, some with large, pointed hats.
Rose was looking around disgustedly when the barman called out to her. "Hullo, there!" he said, pulling her attention to him. "First year at Hogwarts, is it? Looking to get into Diagon Alley, I expect?"
"Indeed," Rose sniffed, looking disdainfully at the balding man with missing teeth.
He either didn't notice or pretended not to and continued cheerfully. "Right then, just this way. Follow me."
Rose did so somewhat reluctantly while maintaining a healthy distance as he led her to the back of the building and into a small courtyard. He pulled out a long stick and tapped on one of the bricks on the wall. Right as she was about to ask what in the hell he was doing, the bricks started shifting and sliding, folding in on themselves to reveal a passageway.
"Huh," Rose said.
The old barman turned to her with a grotesque smile. "There you are. Once you get your wand, you can open it yourself. Just remember, from the bin, three up, two across." Just then, his eyes flicked up to her forehead, and he let out a sharp gasp. "Goodness! You're Rose Potter!"
Rose looked at him sharply. That wasn't her name, but it was close enough to make her suspicious. "I'm not," she said simply.
The barman gave her a puzzled look. "But… you have the scar!"
Her eyes narrowed. What did her scar have anything to do with it? "Regardless," she said, "That's not my name. I don't even know any Potters."
He stammered, "But, but," for a moment, but then his face cleared, and a knowing smile grew on his face. "Ah, I see. Don't want to draw attention to yourself, do you? Yes, yes, I understand, but, uh, you might want to cover your scar, if that's the case. Rather noticeable, you see."
Rose didn't see. In fact, she had no idea what he was talking about. However, she also wanted to get away from this stranger, and so she merely said, "Right. I'll keep that in mind," and quickly left through the passageway. She didn't bother covering her scar.
"I wonder what that was all about," Mummy wondered, and Rose could only shrug her shoulders.
Moments later, Rose was standing in the middle of what was, presumably, Diagon Alley. She wasn't quite sure what she was expecting, but whatever it was, it wasn't 15th-century London. There was a tingle of magic in the air, but in all honesty, it was rather disappointing. She figured that, with the inclusion magic, the technological advancements made would have been extraordinary. Instead, it looked like these people used magic to replace modern technology.
"It's such a shame," Mummy said. "If normal people knew about magic, they surely would have found a way to colonize the moon by now."
Dammit, now Rose was angry. She'd considered that there might be other people like her before, but since she'd never met anyone else with magic, it wasn't significant enough to warrant much thought. But to think there was a whole society out there, a school, just hidden away. Given the sheer age this Alley looked, magic must have been around for centuries at the very least, and if it was anything to go by, it hadn't contributed a lick of progress to the march of technology. Damn the moon, humanity could have colonized Mars.
Mummy giggled in her head. "You sure like your sci-fi, don't you?"
Rose blushed. "It's interesting," she defended. She loved regular science, too. Learning about the inner workings of the universe, and how she, personally, could manipulate it was endlessly fascinating. The only thing she couldn't figure out was why she could do the things she could do. She hoped that by attending this Hogwarts, she could answer those questions.
Her plan had initially been to simply ask a passerby where the bank was located, but it turned out the massive white building clearly labeled 'GRINGOTTS BANK' was rather self-evident. What wasn't self-evident, was what precisely the stubby, nasty-looking creatures standing guard outside the doors were. Rose stared somewhat warily at them from some distance away, but several men and women passed through the doors unhindered, and Rose eventually decided to ignore them. Mummy would protect her if they turned out to be dangerous.
"Obviously," Mummy commented dryly.
Rose passed through the doors of the large building, and the magic in the air intensified, sending a shiver down her spine. On the other side was a small entrance hall with silver doors on the far end, along with another pair of those dreadful creatures. There was an inscription on the doors, and Rose took it in quickly then snorted when she realized it was just a tacky poem about thievery. The creatures apparently took offense to this and snarled silently at her as she passed them. Rose couldn't be bothered to care.
Past the silver doors was a vast hall of marble. A great, layered chandelier hung from the ceiling, and various golden decor hung on the walls. The whole thing was incredibly ostentatious, but Rose had to admit it was rather impressive. One side of the room was lined with counter after counter, each seated with more of the ugly, little creatures.
"Don't tell me they run this place," Rose groaned.
"That looks to be the case, my dear."
Rose sighed. She didn't especially want to deal with anything supernatural that she had no experience with at this point, but it didn't look like she had much of a choice. Steeling herself, she moved to the nearest counter and held out her stack of bills.
"I need to exchange currencies," she said firmly.
The creature gave her a nasty look and snatched the money right out of her hand. He… she? It flipped through the notes with surprising speed then tucked them away somewhere under the counter. It then pulled out a small cloth bag and poured in several gold, silver, and bronze coins. "Here," it grunted, setting the bag down on the counter.
Rose took it and peered inside. She reached in and began to count how much was of each. "What's the exchange rate?" she asked.
The creature made a sound she couldn't quite identify but sounded rather rude regardless. "Twenty-five pounds to the galleon, a pound and fifty pence to the sickle, five pence to the knut."
Luckily, the coins were labeled, so she didn't have to ask which was which. "Ugh, decimals," she complained to Mummy as she tried to mentally convert them back to pounds. Mummy just laughed at her.
Rose frowned when she came up short, then counted again to make sure. "If that's the case," she said to the creature, who was impatient tapping on the counter. "You're missing several galleons."
"I'm afraid our exchange service costs one galleon."
"A galleon?" Rose repeated incredulously. That was ridiculously expensive. "Even then, that's still five galleons short!"
The creature bared its teeth in what was either a grin or a sneer. It was hard to tell. "The bag costs extra."
"Five galleons!? For a piece of cloth? That's extortionate!" Five galleons was over a hundred pounds!
The creature growled unpleasantly at her. "It's magically expanded."
"What for?! I could do that myself if I needed!"
"Regardless," the creature snapped. "That's the price. Take it or leave it."
Rose glowered at the creature. She deliberately turned the bag upside down and dumped the coins onto the desk before flinging it back into its face. Regrettably, it caught the bag in midair with its claws. With a snarl, it grabbed several more coins and tossed them into the pile. Rose nodded in satisfaction, but then she had the problem of how to carry all of them. There were too many to carry around, nor would they fit in her pockets. The creature was grinning nastily at her as if it expected this and was just waiting for her to ask for the bag back. Unfortunately for it, Rose had an idea after a moment's thought. She hovered her hand over one side of the pile and focused intensely on her magic. She felt it bubbling up inside her, and she concentrated on what she wanted. Then, she ran her hand along the top of the coins, only for them to vanish when it passed them by. Rose grinned smugly up at the grubby little creature, pleased by the shocked look on its face.
"I'd say it's been a pleasure," she said, "but we both know I'd be lying." Without further ceremony, she swiftly turned on her heel and left the bank.
"Rose, darling," Mummy asked as she looked around, trying to decide which shop to go in first. "What exactly did you do with those coins?"
Rose sent her a feeling of slight puzzlement. Mummy usually had a pretty good grasp of what was going through her mind, for obvious reasons. "I sent them away," she told her, not minding the odd looks she drew from the people around her.
"Yes, but where? I couldn't quite follow your thinking."
"Well, nowhere, really," Rose said, drawing up her magic again and reaching into nothing to pull out one of the galleons. She rolled it across her knuckles idly, as if to prove a point. "I should have thought of this earlier; it'll be dead useful," she added before dropping the coin. It vanished the moment it left her hand.
Rose could feel that Mummy's confusion hadn't abated, but she didn't know how to explain it. She didn't put them anywhere, just pulled them out when she needed them.
Eventually, they put the matter aside entirely, figuring that it wasn't all that important. Rose took out her list of school supplies and looked through it, trying to decide what to get first.
"Why not get your wand?" Mummy suggested.
Rose frowned. She didn't understand what a wand was supposed to be for. She could use magic well enough without one; she didn't see how it would help.
"Exactly. I want to know what it's for."
That was as good a reason as any, she supposed, though she was looking forward to buying that telescope. She hoped it was magically enhanced in some way.
After wandering the Alley for a short time, she found a shop labeled Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C., and assumed this was the place to buy said wands. She pushed open the doors and heard a short jingle of a bell upon entry. The shop itself was tiny, but there were what must have been thousands of little boxes stacked on top of each other, from floor to ceiling. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the shop until Mummy whispered, "Behind you," and she turned and saw a little old man with pale, silvery eyes.
"Well, if it isn't Miss Potter," he said as if he hadn't just been creeping around. "I'd been wondering when I'd be seeing you."
Rose's face twisted into a look of severe annoyance. "You too? My name isn't Potter," she stated resolutely.
"No?" the old man, presumably Ollivander, asked. "Are you not the daughter of Lily and James Potter?"
"I rather doubt it," Rose replied. "Given that my name is Evans."
"Ah, but before she was a Potter, young Lily was known by the name Evans. And you are, undoubtedly, her daughter. Though, if your parents had preferred you take your mother's name, I shall certainly acquiesce, Miss Evans."
Rose silently conceded that there was a genuine possibility he knew better than her. She had no idea who her parents were, much less their names. She supposed she could have asked Petunia, but, well, she didn't really care either. "Regardless, that doesn't explain how you know who I am."
Ollivander blinked slowly at her. "You certainly couldn't be anyone else," he said, looking at her forehead. At her scar.
Rose frowned. She reached up and rubbed at it gently, making it pulse pleasantly. "It's my scar, isn't it? People know it, somehow, the barman at the Leaky Cauldron said the same thing. But how? I've never even been to this place before, didn't even know it existed before today."
The old man gave her an odd look she couldn't quite decipher. "You are… remarkably uninformed," he said, then began pacing across the floor of his shop with a thoughtful look on his face. Rose watched him, her ire growing with each step he took. Eventually, he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and stopped in front of her. "I do not think I am the person to tell you this," he began, "nor can I fathom how you do not already know, but I think it best you learn sooner rather than later. However, keep in mind that I know little of the details."
Rose nodded impatiently, gesturing for him to continue.
"Tell me, do you know how exactly you obtained that scar?" he asked pointedly.
Rose frowned and shook her head. She had a vague recollection of the Dursleys explaining it to her, but that was before Mummy, and she couldn't remember the details. They probably lied, anyways. "Are you saying you do?"
"Every witch and wizard in Britain knows," Ollivander told her. "It is a curse scar, given to you by the darkest wizard of the age."
Rose's frown deepened. She had never considered her scar to be even tangentially cursed. She found the implication rather offensive, actually.
"On the night of Samhain nearly ten years ago, the dark wizard whose terror was so great we do not speak his name stepped into the residence of Lily and James Potter and their daughter Rose with the sole intent of killing every one of them. He murdered James. He murdered Lily. And then, he tried to murder you. But he could not."
"Of course not," Mummy spoke to her. "It doesn't matter how terrible any wizard might be. I'll never let anyone hurt you."
"Do you remember this?" Rose asked.
"No," Mummy admitted. "It sounds strangely familiar, but I do not remember."
"No one knows why," Ollivander continued. "No one knows how. But when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fired at you the curse that could not be stopped, could not be blocked, and had never before been survived, it rebounded and killed instead the dark wizard, leaving you completely untouched, save for that scar. That is why everyone knows your name, or at least, your scar. Somehow, you ended years of terror at the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You, Miss Evans, are quite famous."
Rose was silent for a long moment. She wondered how she was supposed to feel after learning her parents had been murdered. In the end, all she said was, "I see."
"Indeed," Ollivander said, and then, after another beat of silence, added much more chipperly, "but, let us not linger on such depressing topics. We are here to find you a wand, not discuss your parents' untimely demise."
The change in tone was rather shocking, but Rose had no trouble following it. "Apparently so," she said as Ollivander pulled out a long, silvery measuring tape. He started measuring her, the length of her arms and legs, the width of her torso, the circumference of her head, even the length of her nose. She had no idea what any of those measurements could possibly be used for but suffered through it silently. At some point, he let go of the measuring tape entirely and walked into the back of the shop, yet it continued its measurements unaided.
A short time later, he returned with a small, rectangular box. "That'll be enough," he said, and the tape rolled itself up and dropped to the floor. He opened up the box and pulled out a long, wooden stick. "Here you are."
Rose grasped the hilt, and immediately her eyes widened. It felt… she didn't know how else to explain it, but the wand felt alive. It seemed to thrum in her hand, in a way that she had to describe as angrily. It didn't appear to like her.
"Curious," Ollivander said, but before she could question him, he snatched the wand out of her hand and thrust another one her way. "Here, try this."
Rose took hold of it and felt it shiver like it was disgusted with her. She didn't know she could be offended by a piece of wood.
"Very curious," Ollivander repeated. "Tell me, Miss Evans, do you happen to be… quite adept, at magic already?"
Rose eyed him oddly. "Well, I wouldn't exactly know, would I? I haven't even started schooling yet."
"Ah, yes, allow me to rephrase. Can you already use magic deliberately? Without a wand?"
"Yes," she said slowly. "Can't everyone?"
"Not at all!" he said, suspiciously cheerful. "Most witches and wizards are quite useless without their wands, you'll find. Why, only three persons come to mind when thinking of who can use magic in any practical capacity without a wand. There's Albus Dumbledore, your headmaster, and, of course, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The other just so happened to be your mother."
Rose started. "My mother?"
"Yes, there's this rather prevalent rumor that wandless magic takes years of intense study and devotion to master, and while there is some truth to that, the reality is that it's simply a gift, like metamorphmagi, or parseltongue. A very rare gift, but a gift nonetheless. I imagine that's why You-Know-Who went after you and your mother; she was the only one to ever duel him one-on-one and live. Your father was merely in the way, I bet," he added somewhat callously.
Rose was beginning to feel more and more impressed with her mother. She wanted to know more, like what about this Dumbledore, or what metamorphmagi or parseltongue was, but Ollivander seemed determined not to let her ask any questions, as he quickly continued.
"For most, you see, wands are the instrument of magic. They use it to weave spells and enchantments of wonder, but without it, they are talentless. One cannot play a violin with no strings, after all. For the few like yourself, however, you'll find the wand to be a useful companion, aiding your every magical endeavor, but, ultimately, unnecessary. Now let's continue, shall we?"
Numerous more wands were handed to her, but none of them felt right in her hand, or rather, they all felt as if the wands themselves would rather be anywhere but her hand. Some vibrated threateningly, others shook in fear, one jerked itself right out of her grasp, and another tried to commit suicide via self-immolation the moment she touched it.
Ollivander didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he appeared downright delighted. "Picky customer, eh? Just like your mother. Not to worry, we'll find the one for you."
Minutes stretched on and on until a solid hour had passed, and Rose's patience was wearing thin. Just as she was debating storming out of the shop and forgoing a wand entirely, Ollivander paused quite suddenly in his search, looking pensive. "I wonder…" he muttered aloud to himself before quickly retreating into the back of the shop. A short time later, he returned with another wand in hand. "Perhaps, this," he said, holding it out to her. "Holly and phoenix feather. Eleven inches."
Rose could feel it the moment he brought it out. It pulsed almost longingly at her, and the moment she wrapped her hand around its hilt, it shot off happy little sparks. It made Rose smile. She was beginning to think all the wands hated her.
"Curiouser and curiouser," Ollivander muttered to himself.
Rose raised an eyebrow. "What's curious?" she asked curiously.
He gave her a piercing stare. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Potter, and it just so happens that the phoenix that gave the feather that resides in this wand's core gave but one other. One that just so happens to belong to the wand that gave you that scar."
Rose's eyes widened, and she looked down at her new wand. It pulsed pleasantly in her hand. "Curious, indeed."
Rose was finally able to leave after paying for her wand (she clenched an empty hand over the small desk in Ollivander's shop, and when she opened it, seven galleons fell out. Ollivander's eye widened dramatically and he let out another, 'Curious.') She initially gaped at the price, but, after considering that most apparently couldn't even use magic without one, thought it rather cheap. Still, she hoped the rest of her supplies wouldn't be as much; otherwise, she'd have to return after raiding the Dursleys' wallet again.
She left the shop twirling her new wand in her hand as it hummed excitedly, apparently happy to finally be wielded. Rose had originally planned on just stuffing her wand into the same nowhere as her coins, but she had the odd feeling that it wouldn't like that, so instead, she wrapped up her hair into a quick bun and slotted her wand through it so she wouldn't have to carry it around everywhere.
She bought her uniform next, walking into a shop called Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Upon entry, a short, plump woman quickly steered Rose onto a footstool next to an aristocratic-looking, blue-eyed girl about her age with long, blonde hair who was also being fitted. A robe was shoved over her head, and the woman started pinning it to size. The blonde girl was stealing glances her way, and Rose watched her out of the corner of her eye. Normally this would irritate Rose, but she found the girl to be quite pretty, so she found she didn't mind much.
"You're so delightfully vain," Mummy cooed, and Rose frowned.
"I am not," she protested.
"You are," Mummy insisted. "But it's fine. Surround yourself with all the pretty things you want, my little Black Rose. You deserve it all."
The girl let out a sudden gasp, and Rose turned her head toward her. She seemed embarrassed and tried to school her expression back into neutrality, but the red of her cheeks gave her way.
"Yes?" Rose asked politely.
The girl cleared her throat and asked, "You're Rose Potter, aren't you?"
The woman fitting her jerked and would have skewered her with the sewing needle if Mummy hadn't stopped it from penetrating her skin. Rose raised an irritated eyebrow as the woman started profusely apologizing even as she stared up at her forehead, then elected to ignore her further and turned back to the blonde girl. "So I've been told." She was going to correct her, but then she realized that if every magical person in Britain knew her as Potter, it'd be easier just not to bother.
The girl gave her a confused look but apparently decided to dismiss her strange reply. "I'm Daphne Greengrass," she said in a tone that Rose supposed was meant to sound haughty, but just sounded cute.
"Daphne," Rose said slowly, tasting the name on her lips. Then she gave a lavish smile. "Well, it's nice to know your name's as lovely as your face."
Whatever Daphne was going to say next died a stammering death as her cheeks heated back up even more intensely than before. Rose watched her stutter cutely for a moment before deciding to give her a break. "So you're going to Hogwarts as well?" she asked.
Daphne seemed relieved by the change in subject. "O-oh, yes. I couldn't possibly be heading anywhere else," she resumed in that same haughty tone that made Rose smile.
"The name's a bit silly, don't you think? Hogwarts? I can't help but wonder what they were thinking when they named the place."
"Really?" Daphne said, like she had never even considered it before. Then she gained a thoughtful look and said, "Yes, I suppose it is rather strange, now that you mention it. I suppose the Founders just wanted a bit of levity in those dark times. These days no one thinks twice about it."
Rose didn't ask who the Founders were, since she didn't care. Not that she had the chance to, right as she was about to open her mouth to ask if she'd gotten her wand yet, the woman attending Daphne reported that she had finished, and she stepped down from her footstool. "Well," she announced. "See you at school, then?"
Rose gave her a lop-sided grin. "I'm very much looking forward to it."
The blush returned, and Daphne gave a wobbly nod before walking out of the shop.
Rose sighed and tilted her head back to stare up at the ceiling as she impatiently waited for the woman fitting her to finish.
"They're rather plain," Mummy said, and it took a moment for Rose to figure out she was talking about her robes. She glanced downward and saw they were indeed rather simplistic, though she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do about it.
"Get something to go with it," Mummy suggested.
"Like what?"
"That hat," she said, pulling Rose's attention to one of the displays on the shelves.
Rose immediately groaned, making her attendant look at her with concern.
"Is everything alright, dear?" she asked.
"Do I really need to?"
"The letter says you need a pointed hat. Why not that one?" Mummy said, unreasonably reasonable.
"You just want to dress me up."
"It'd look so cute on you!"
"Dear?"
"Yes, I'm fine," Rose said quickly. "Er, could I also get a hat like that one?" she added, pointing. It looked like a stereotypical witch's hat, crooked and wide-brimmed, like something you'd see at a Halloween store.
The woman smiled genially at her. "Of course, dear."
It wasn't long afterward that she left the shop wearing slightly loose robes that left room for her to grow into (as well as two spares folded neatly into a small bag she carried) and a ridiculously large, crooked hat. She felt silly, but not a single of the passersby gave her even a glance. Given what she'd seen so far, she supposed it wasn't all that strange, but she still felt like she was on her way to a costume party. It didn't help that as she looked for the next thing on the list, she stumbled upon a shop that appeared to sell broomsticks.
"I'm not getting one!" Rose declared before Mummy could say anything.
"But it'd go perfectly with your look!" Mummy whined.
"Doesn't matter! First years aren't allowed broomsticks, remember?" she said, referring to her list.
"Oh, so what? Just smuggle it in!"
Rose ignored her as she continued to plead even as she walked into a cauldron shop to get the next thing on her list, and a short purchase later, she walked out with a surprisingly light packaged cauldron. She held it out with one hand and waved her arm over it, and it faded away as her sleeves fluttered across it.
"Is the flourish necessary?" Mummy asked her.
"No," Rose replied, "But I like the way it looks."
Mummy snorted in her head.
The next shop she stumbled upon was a place called 'Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment.' She wasn't sure what they sold just from the name, but she couldn't help but gape when she walked inside. There were several magical-looking tools and gadgets scattered around, most of which she didn't recognize, but that's not what caught her attention. That honor went to the massive, hyper-realistic, orrery hanging in the middle of the store. Encased in a giant glass orb were the different planets and even their moons all orbiting a shining, fiery ball in the middle. Not a single one of the miniature bodies seemed to be hooked up to any sort of wire or hooked to anything and just free-floated around the tiny sun as if the solar system itself had simply been shrunk down.
"It's beautiful," Rose murmured, and she felt Mummy's agreement.
Eventually, she had to tear her eyes away from the orrery to look around the actual shop, only for them to land on a dusty, grey, sphere and she gasped and rushed over to it. She held it up and exclaimed, "It's a moon globe!"
Every mountain and valley, every crater and ridge, had been captured in excruciating detail. It spun gently on its axis, seemingly of its own accord, and gave off a soft, silver glow. Rose thought it was absolutely gorgeous. She checked the price tag and gasped, "Ten galleons!?" That was more than a wand! She only had…
She set the globe down and cupped each hand, holding them out in front of her. She placed one above the other, palms facing each other, and galleons began to fall from one hand and disappeared into the next, and she counted them as they fell. Eight! She only had eight galleons left! But she wanted it so bad!
"Then take it," Mummy purred. "If you want it, then it's yours."
Rose quickly took in her surroundings. There weren't many people in the shop. A missing globe would be easily noticed, especially one this expensive. She bit her lip and took a hesitant step away from the globe. She wandered the store for a bit, gathering up the last of her school supplies besides her books (a telescope that she couldn't wait to use, a set of glass phials, and a set of brass scales,) then headed up the counter and soon had her things paid for and packaged up. She started walking toward the exit, keeping her items clearly visible, but as she passed the moon globe on her way out, she snapped her fingers sharply, and a loud clattering sound filled the air. Everyone's attention was drawn to the back of the store where a shelf had suddenly collapsed, spilling its wares all over the floor. No one noticed Rose waving her arm over the excessively priced moon globe which vanished under her sleeve, or saw her rush out a moment later.
Rose was grinning widely as she walked into a bookstore called Flourish and Blotts, already thinking of how the globe would look in her room. She bet it looked gorgeous in the dark with its soft glow. Maybe she should take it out of its stand and hang it on the ceiling? She hardly paid attention to the books she was picking up, not that she wasn't eager to read those too, but she couldn't wait to get home and examine her 'acquisition' in detail. She was so excited that she ran right into a walking stack of books.
"Ooof!"
She was knocked right onto her bum as both hers and the books she bumped into were sent airborne. Her new hat fell onto her lap, and one of the books careened right for her head only to crash into Mummy's shield and fall to the wayside. Rose blinked, a bit surprised, and saw that what she ran into was not, in fact, a mobile stack of books, but rather a young girl, one who did not appear to have a magical shield to protect her from rogue books.
"Ow, ow, ow," the girl, also on her bum, muttered to herself as she rubbed her head gingerly. Then she appeared to notice Rose for the first time and gasped. "Oh my goodness! I'm soo sorry, are you alright? I should have been watching where I was going! Oh, I always do this! I get too excited and grab too many books and the next thing I know I'm bowling down everyone in the aisle! I really don't mean to, though, are you sure you're alright? I thought I saw a book hit your head, do you have a concussion? Do you need to go to the hospital? Is there a magical hospital? I bet Professor McGonagall knows where it is, I can-"
Rose's sudden laugh cut the girl off. "You're rather loquacious, aren't you?" she asked as she moved to stand up, reaching out her arm to help the other girl up.
She blushed violently. "A bit," she mumbled shyly, taking Rose's hand. "You're really okay?"
Rose gave her a playful smile as they stood themselves up. "If running into a stack of books means falling over someone like you, I can't really say I mind."
The girl's chocolate-brown eyes blinked at her. "Huh?"
"You know you're not even eleven yet, right?" Mummy asked, somewhat rhetorically. "I don't think most girls your age even know what flirting is. You got lucky with that Daphne girl, try to be more subtle with this one."
"That was subtle!" Rose protested.
"Less subtle, then."
Rose cleared her throat slightly and gave the girl an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I just meant you're cute."
She really was, though if the wide-eyed blush she was now sporting was anything to go by, she didn't hear it all that often. Light freckles were dotted around her nose, and she had an absolutely wild mane of hair, far moreso than Rose's own. Combined with her slight overbite, it made her look like some sort of adorable beaver.
She appeared to have shocked the girl speechless since she was just staring slack-jawed at Rose, so she continued to try and elicit a response. "I'm more worried about you, actually," she said worriedly, reaching into that bushy mane to gently touch where the girl had been hit. "You got nailed by more than one of those things. Does it hurt?"
"Uhh…" She seemed to be struggling to form a sentence. "I'm, uh, fine. I think."
Wow, she really wasn't used to getting compliments, was she? Probably best to back off for now. She made to pull her hand away, then blinked in mild astonishment when she found it had been tangled up in the girl's hair. Two gentle tugs had proven it unyielding.
The girl's blush grew brighter than ever. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," she apologized for some reason. "I know my hair's a mess, I try to brush it, but it never works well and my combs always break and brushes aren't much better but-"
Rose had a distinct feeling that another tirade was approaching, so she pressed her finger against the girl's lips, which, admittedly, was the exact opposite of backing off. Still, it worked well in getting her to quiet, though she was afraid the girl might pass out from all the blood rushing to her cheeks. "It's fine," she said with a smile. "Just give me a second."
She called up her magic and trailed it through her arm to her hand. She felt her wand shaking eagerly in her hair like it wanted to help, but she didn't know how to use it, so she let it be. She seeped her magic into her skin and focused on making it as slippery as possible, and the lack of friction made it easy to pull her hand free. "There we go," she said with a smile, wiggling her fingers to show her.
The girl smiled shyly at her. Rose picked up her hat, set it back on her head, and then bent down to gather up the fallen books. The girl followed her example. "I didn't catch your name," Rose said.
"Hermione," she said, looking up from her growing pile of books.
Rose tilted her head. "From Greek mythology?"
"Shakespear, actually," the newly named Hermione said, sounding embarrassed. "My parents are huge nerds."
Rose eyed the heap of books in her arms. It looked like there were more extracurricular books than not. "And you aren't?" she asked teasingly, causing her to blush once again. She seemed to have a talent for it.
"Maybe a little," she mumbled shyly, but then her eyes seemed to take on a slightly manic look. "But it's all so interesting!" she exclaimed. "I finally know the reason behind all the strange things that happen around me; I was the cause all along! And to think there's a whole school out there to teach me magic! I have so much catching up to do! All the wizarding families must know all sorts of magic already; I have to learn as much as I can, I must be so behind-"
Rose was almost impressed, she had known Hermione for nearly two minutes, and already she had delved into three entirely separate rants.
"She does have a rather impressive set of lungs on her," Mummy commented.
She didn't mind terribly, her voice had a rather pleasant ring to it, but it did make it hard to interject at any point, so Rose eventually just settled for interrupting her entirely. "Hermione!" she exclaimed.
Hermione paused, blinking. "Yes?"
"We all got our letters at the same time, yes?" Rose questioned.
"That's what Professor McGonagall said."
"Then why would you expect anyone else to know more than you yet?"
Hermione bit her lip, which Rose found rather cute. "But, but, they still know about magic. I only found out about it today, who knows what sort of things they've picked up over the years?"
Rose had to admit she had a point, actually. If someone grew up in a family who all worked with computers, they probably knew a fair bit more about them than most, even if they've never touched one themselves. Still, no reason to bring more worry to the girl. She had a question anyway; she recognized the name Hermione mentioned, so she changed the subject. "Wasn't McGonagall the one who signed our letters? Minerva McGonagall?"
"Huh?" Hermione said, a bit startled at the change in topic, but she quickly switched gears. "Oh, yes. She teaches Transfiguration at Hogwarts. She changed our dining room table into a pig! Why do you ask?"
Rose wondered why anyone would want to change a table into a pig but quickly put it out of her mind and asked, "She was at your house? Why?"
"To explain it all to us," Hermione said as if it was obvious. "We would never have believed it if it was just the letter, so she came to hand-deliver it to us and show us some proof."
Rose frowned. "Why didn't she do the same for me, then? I didn't know anything about Hogwarts. I would've tossed the letter into the fire if my Aunt didn't explain that my mother had attended. And even then, her knowledge about the subject is woefully inadequate."
"Your Aunt?" Hermione asked curiously. "Why didn't your mum just explain it to you?"
"Oh, she's dead," Rose said dismissively.
Hermione gasped, horrified. "I'm so sorry! I didn't realize-"
Rose waved her hand, cutting her off. "It's fine. I don't actually care," she said. Hermione gave her an odd look she didn't quite understand, but Rose wanted to get back to the subject at hand, so she said, "Still though, everything would have been far simpler if this McGonagall came and explained everything." Now that she thought of it, she thought Petunia said the same sort of thing happened to her mother. Why didn't it happen to her? Maybe they could've explained her apparent fame.
Hermione looked uncertain. "Maybe she hadn't gotten around to it yet. The letters were only just sent out, weren't they?"
Rose shook her head. "You said she hand-delivered yours. Mine came in the post."
Hermione frowned thoughtfully, then she suddenly brightened and exclaimed, "We can just ask her! She's touring me around the Alley; she's just waiting outside since my parents mentioned how I tend to lose track of time while I'm in places like these and-" she cut herself off with a gasp and said, "Oh no! I've been in here far too long, haven't I? I need to let her know I've got my books, come on!"
Hermione grabbed hold of Rose's arm and pulled her along to the counter, all while somehow maintaining her grip on the enormous stack of books in her arms. Rose was going to make a teasing comment on how forward she was but thought it might fly right over her head, so she bit it back. The two of them paid for their books then Hermione rushed them out of the store. Rose subtly funneled hers into her nowhere-space so didn't have to carry them around. Of course, her sudden lack of books was rather conspicuous, but Hermione seemed to have a one-track mind and didn't notice.
Rose was pulled to an older-looking woman who epitomized the word 'witch.' She wore a set of emerald-green robes and a large, crooked hat not dissimilar to Rose's newly-bought one, which made her feel a bit better about her purchase. She also had a very dour expression, and Rose guessed that more than a few of those wrinkles were from frowning too much.
"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione shouted to her. "I'm so sorry; I lost track of time. There are so many interesting books, and I just had to look at them all, but then I realized I was over the limit my parents set for me, and I had to decide which ones to put back, but I just couldn't!"
Hermione took another breath to continue speaking, but Rose had a feeling McGonagall was distinctly aware of her apparent tendency to delve into rants since she quickly interrupted. "That's quite alright, Miss Granger," she said in a stern but warm voice. "Your parents warned me about your… enthusiasm for literature. There is plenty of time, and I don't mind waiting. Besides, I know all too well the excitement of one's first trip to Diagon Alley. Now, who's this you brought with you?"
"Oh," Hermine said eagerly. "This is…" Then she trailed off when she realized she didn't actually know Rose's name and looked at her expectantly.
"Rose," said Rose. "Rose Evans."
McGonagall looked briefly surprised but quickly schooled her expression. Rose still noticed when her eyes flickered up to her forehead, however. "I… see," she said, somewhat hesitantly. "Evans, you said?"
"Yes," Rose said firmly. She wasn't going to bother correcting everyone she met, but she also wasn't going to have her teachers calling her Potter when it wasn't her name. McGonagall should know this, actually, since she signed her letter. "I was wondering if I could ask you some questions?"
"Certainly. Why don't you walk with us to Ollivander's to purchase Miss Granger's wand? I see you already have yours," she said, spying the wand tied up in her hair. "We can talk while Ollivander works his magic, so to speak."
Rose nodded, and the three of them set off for the little shop, though did McGonagall acquiesce to a few questions while they walked as well. "Hermione tells me you delivered her Hogwarts letter to her personally," Rose said, and McGonagall nodded. "Why was mine delivered via post, then?"
"Both your parents were Magical," McGonagall answered as though it was obvious. "There was no need to explain magic to one who already knows about it."
Rose raised a brow. "But I'd never met anyone else who could do magic before. Nor had I ever even heard Hogwarts, so when the letter came, I was ready to dismiss it as a hoax and toss it out."
McGonagall looked astonished. "But surely your Aunt and Uncle explained it to you?"
"They did," Rose said, silently wondering how the witch knew she lived with her Aunt and Uncle. "After I mentioned it. And even then, Petunia could only barely remember her way to Diagon Alley. I had to figure the rest out myself."
McGonagall looked aghast, but they had reached Ollivander's, so her reply was put on hold. "Right, Miss Granger, just head on inside. I'd like to sort all this out with Miss Po- I mean, Miss Evans."
Hermione nodded, looking vaguely apprehensive, and Rose called out an unhelpful "Good luck!" as she went inside, which actually seemed to make it worse. Then McGonagall turned to Rose and said, "Well, I certainly don't know what your relatives were thinking, keeping something so important from you, but rest assured, had you not responded to your letter someone would have been sent for you."
Rose hummed, not entirely convinced. Still, it was adequate for now. "You almost called me Potter," she said instead. "When my name is, and always has been, Evans. I'd never heard the name Potter before today."
McGonagall gave a start. "What? Never? I'd thought perhaps you were simply trying to lay low."
"No. As you should know," Rose said accusingly. "The letter was addressed to Evans, the letter that you signed."
"Was it?" McGonagall asked, frowning. "How very strange. Your parents were definitely named Potter." She thought to herself for a moment, then shook her head. "As for the letter, I'm afraid the process of writing and sending them out is somewhat automated. I merely sign them, and I've hardly the time to look at each and every name addressed."
Rose was also frowning. The answer was hardly satisfying, but there was nothing to poke holes into, so she moved on to her next question. "Speaking of the letter, would it be alright to bypass the RSVP entirely by just telling you I'll attend? Also, what about tuition? How much is it and when will we be getting the invoice?
McGonagall blinked, apparently not expecting this line of questioning. "I suppose that would be acceptable. As for tuition, Hogwarts is the premier school of magic in all of Britain, and as such, is normally quite expensive, though we do offer support for those who cannot afford it. In your case, however, you'll be happy to know that your parents had paid, in full, a complete seven years' tuition the moment you were born. You needn't worry about anything but your school supplies."
"Oh," Rose said, somewhat surprised. She supposed the Durselys would be quite happy about that, but she wasn't sure how to feel about this posthumous generosity. It was very novel, having things done for her, uncoerced. Especially by people she couldn't remember. "Well… I suppose all that's left is the bit in the letter where it says that students may bring an owl, cat, or toad. I'm assuming that means as a pet?"
"Yes, Miss Evans. Some students get quite lonely away from home, and a pet can bring a great deal of comfort to these students. I take it by your question that you're looking for a pet yourself?"
Rose nodded somewhat hesitantly. She hadn't thought about it a great deal, but owning a pet did sound rather enjoyable. The only problem was, "Does it have to be one of these? None of them appeal to me, but if they're my only options, I'll not bother."
"Not necessarily," McGonagall said. "Those three particular animals are the most common pets in wizarding families. The note is mostly there to remind students that only one pet is allowed. However, you can get permission to bring another type of pet, assuming it isn't dangerous, of course. I believe I've written permission for a rat and a tarantula so far this year. Did you have anything in mind?"
Rose nodded. "A snake, I think, though I haven't decided what kind."
McGonagall gave a small start. "Ah," she began hesitantly. "Well, I- I would have to recommend against that, Miss Po- Miss Evans. Snakes are rather severely disliked in our world. I'm afraid owning one would be looked upon… unfavorably."
Rose raised an irritated brow, slightly irked at her slip up of her name. "So?" she asked uncaringly.
McGonagall looked somewhat flustered. "Well… if you're sure. As long as it isn't venomous, you have permission to bring a snake to school."
Rose brightened considerably. 'Not venomous,' wasn't quite the same as 'not dangerous.' Very carefully not mentioning this, Rose simply said, "Thank you."
It wasn't long afterward that Hermione came rushing out excitedly, wand in hand, which surprised Rose since her wand-choosing took far longer. McGonagall did ask about her apparent lack of school supplies in the meantime, but Rose waved her away, saying it was all well in hand. It didn't satisfy McGonagall, but it did stop her from asking further.
"You know, I've been wondering," Mummy said as Hermione ran up to Rose, eagerly showing off her new wand. It was quite pretty too, with a pleasing vine-like pattern etched along the bottom half. "Why are you hiding your magic? According to that Ollivander, you're quite renowned, and if what he said about wandless magic is true, showing you can do it would send your fame skyrocketing even further."
Rose considered it while she complimented Hermione on the beautiful wand. She didn't know, honestly, which explained Mummy's need to ask. Fame really didn't sound all that bad, especially if it was for something she could actually do, rather than something that was probably Mummy. She remembered Daphne stealing shy glances at her and thought it would be nice to get more of that from pretty girls. Fame would practically ensure it.
In the end, she could only give a mental shrug. "It's just habit, I suppose. I'm not used to using magic for everyone to see."
Mummy hummed in acknowledgment but didn't say anything further, and Rose was pulled out of her musings by Hermione. "Hmm?" she asked, blinking. "Sorry, I zoned out for a moment."
Hermione was looking at Rose, biting her lip nervously. "I asked if you'll write me," she said. "I've got everything I need; I've got to be heading back home, but… I was hoping we could stay in touch. I've never had friends before, and... that is, I don't mean to presume but… well, I was hoping we could be. Friends, I mean." She ducked her head shyly, her bushy hair falling over her face.
Rose's face abruptly drained of any emotion. She stared blankly at Hermione for several long seconds, and Hermione's cheeks grew redder and redder as they dragged on and on. Finally, when the beginnings of tears began to form in her eyes, Rose cracked a sudden, lopsided grin. "Of course I'd love to be friends with you!" she said as if she couldn't imagine it otherwise.
Hermione's tears did fall, but they were happy ones filled with relief. She rushed forward suddenly and wrapped Rose in a crushing hug. Rose stiffened for the briefest of moments, then quickly relaxed and reciprocated, circling the crying girl's waist and pulling her even closer.
Rose had never been hugged before. It was such a strange feeling.
Hermione pulled back quickly, looking horrified with herself. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, wiping away her tears. "That was totally inappropriate! I'm so sorry!"
Rose just laughed. "There's no way I'm going to complain about getting hugged by such a pretty girl."
Hermione giggled, her cheeks reddening. "Oh, Rose. Here, let me give you my address so you can mail me," she said, taking out a piece of paper and a pen from her pockets, leading Rose to wonder if she just carried around that sort of stuff on her at all times. She scribbled down her address and handed the note to Rose, who took it with a smile.
"I'll write as soon as I get home," she said, pocketing it.
Hermione grinned widely. "I can't wait."
The two of them, and McGonagall, said their goodbyes and parted ways. Rose watched them go, waving with a smile when Hermione turned back to her to do the same. Then, when they had left her sight, her expression turned empty once again. She stared at the spot they disappeared, not saying anything, not thinking anything.
And then, Mummy spoke up delicately. "You know you can't have friends."
Rose closed her eyes.
"Friends are those who meet on equal grounds. Neither is above or below the other. They see their similarities, see their differences, and cast them all aside to connect their hearts to one another. You cannot do that, Rose. You are so far above the rest that to cast yourself aside would be no different than to tear yourself in two. Any who should try to sincerely connect their heart to yours would surely ruin themselves, just as surely as you would ruin yourself should you try to connect to theirs."
Her eyes opened.
"I know, Mummy," she said calmly.
Then she turned and walked down Diagon Alley, patiently waiting for Petunia to arrive to take her home.