June, 1995.
"Charlie?" Rose whispered, her voice barely audible.
He stood just a couple of meters away with a tender look on his face. The room seemed to still, though it could have just been her imagination. He wore dark pants and a light shirt that made his hair appear more vibrant. Over it, he had a brown waxed jacket on, looking more refined than the last time she had seen him at the Tournament, where he had been in his work attire. His face was sun-kissed and blushed, the freckles more prominent under the sun streaks coming in from the windows, and his hair, usually unruly, was neatly combed.
Rose took a step closer, her eyes drinking him in. Her movements were slow, dreamlike. She reached out and touched his forearm, as if to prove to herself that he was real. He moved closer and pulled her into the most gentle hug she had ever experienced. She relaxed, closing her eyes and resting her head on his chest as he gently stroked her hair. He smelled of bergamot.
"Who's the boy?" Aunt Marion asked Theo loudly in French.
Rose tensed up and stepped back from Charlie. "One moment," she whispered, turning to her aunt.
"And no hug for old Aunt Marion, I see," Marion continued, feigning disappointment. Charlie walked back to the Weasley family around Harry Potter, whom Rose had previously failed to notice. She had either been in a state, missing the three redheads around Potter, or too used to the sight to take note. She walked over to Aunt Marion and hugged her tightly, realizing how much she had missed her over the past year. "Now, talk. Who's the boy?"
"Just a friend," Rose replied nonchalantly in French, but Theo stifled a chuckle, prompting Aunt Marion to raise an eyebrow. "Oh, don't look at me like that!"
"Like what?" Marion asked innocently, glancing at the Weasleys gathered around Potter. "When you walked in, I thought you were with that sickly pale boy. He's more your type, from what I've heard."
"Aunt Marion!" Theo was now choking back a laugh, his face turning redder by the second.
"Well, your brother agrees," Marion said. "Maybe I'll go and meet the boy, see for myself what the fuss is all about."
Rose turned pale. "Not bloody likely!" she yelled in English.
As more faces in the room turned to see what the commotion was about, Marion and Theo laughed in unison. Rose glared at her brother and resumed in French. "I won't forget this, you little bastard."
He merely kissed her on the cheek and whispered, "You're welcome, dear sister."
Rose stood still, bewildered, unsure of what she was supposed to be thankful for. They exchanged more pleasantries and jabbed more jokes at the girl as the room slowly emptied, the Weasleys and Delacours heading back into the Hall.
Then, Aunt Marion linked her arm with Theo's and turned to Rose, still speaking in French. "My darling nephew will show me around this cold castle until lunch," she said, though it sounded more like an order. Her lip twitched as she continued, "You should really see what that friend of yours wants. He's lurking by the door."
With that, they left, leaving Rose with sweaty palms and a buzzing head. The Krum family continued talking in Bulgarian, paying her no mind. She squared her shoulders and did her best to pretend she didn't know Charlie was waiting for her at the door.
"Funny seeing you here, Weasley," she said, leaning nonchalantly against the open door, her heart beating a far too fast for her liking.
Charlie grinned. "Couldn't stay away, Nott. Besides, someone had to make sure you weren't causing too much trouble."
Rose rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "And here I thought you missed me."
"That too," he said, stepping closer. "Of course, I'm here as part of Harry's entourage, so I might have to flaunt my house colours in the stands."
"I don't see a problem with that," she chuckled, feeling a warm sensation spread through her chest. "Though, it might be a little difficult since your scarf is in my dormitory down below."
"Nott, are you trying to get me into your dormitory?" Charlie teased.
"How dare you! I'm a lady," Rose smacked his arm gently, her laugh light and carefree. "But I will allow you to escort me down to the grounds, maybe even around the lake." She hesitated for a moment before reaching up to tousle his hair. "Hope the wind is not a problem, with the combed hair and everything."
Charlie laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Good, because that's as close to one as you're going to get," she teased back, her eyes dancing with amusement.
They stood in silence, the chaos of the day momentarily forgotten as she basked in his company. Finally, Rose sighed. "Don't tell me we're going to stand here all day?"
Charlie smiled, his expression tender. "Wouldn't dream of it."
They walked side-by-side through the buzzing corridors, their footsteps lost in the excitement from the upcoming task, but everything seemed to fade away as they neared the castle's doors and stepped out into the warm air outside. They walked in a comfortable silence, their hands occasionally brushing against each other, sending delightful shivers down Rose's spine. The wind was cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers and fresh grass.
They navigated the winding paths and steps that led down to the boathouse. The staircase seemed endless, each new step leading them deeper into a world far removed from the noise of the castle above.
"Isn't it odd," Rose began, her voice barely above a whisper, "how everything looks so peaceful from up here?"
Charlie's eyes were on her, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Not at all."
They reached the final set of stairs that led them down to the boathouse. The structure stood by the edge of the Black Lake, the windows reflecting the rays of sunlight that danced on the still water below. It was empty, the boats gently rocking in their moorings. The area was enchanted with the soothing sounds of water lapping against the wooden beams and the distant calls of birds. Charlie held the door open for Rose, and they stepped outside.
Rose walked to the edge of the platform and sat down, gazing out over the shimmering lake. Charlie joined her, taking his jacket off and settling down close enough that their shoulders brushed gently. He hesitated for a moment, then moved his hand so that it rested just beside hers, their fingers almost touching. The slight contact sent a warm, comforting feeling through Rose, and she felt a shy smile tug at her lips.
Charlie broke the silence first. "Did you ever find out more about that knot?"
"Shh..." She replied, nodding absentmindedly. "I'll tell you all about it, later."
Rose smiled, her thoughts swirling as they sat in comfortable silence. She stole glances at Charlie, noting how the sunlight played on his hair as closed his eyes, it made his freckles even more pronounced. She felt a flutter in her chest once he'd opened his blue eyes, and quickly looked away, pretending to delicately examine something on the sleeve of her shirt. Her uniform was half done, the robe and tie long forgotten at the breakfast table.
"I never really got the chance to enjoy this spot," Rose said softly, gazing out at the water. "It's like the world slows down here."
Charlie nodded, his eyes fixed on the gentle ripples in the lake. "A good place to think."
"Really?" she pushed, "About what?"
Charlie turned to look at her, his expression an act of deep thought. "Schoolwork, of course."
Rose bit her lip, mulling over his words. "Graham thinks you were some kind of legend. He'll be most disappointing when I break it to him that you were just another dork."
Charlie turned his gaze back onto the water, but he moved his hand, gently placing it on top of hers. The touch was warm, better than what she dreamed it would be like. "And what might you be thinking about?"
Rose blushed, looking down at their now joined hands. "I mean, I do have that deadly tournament later today, but I suppose I'm not thinking about it that much now."
"Interesting" he replied.
They sat in silence again, Charlie's fingers drawing light circles all around Rose's hand. As much as she tried to enjoy the embodiment of her dreams, her thoughts drifted to her the expectations placed upon her. Even if she could truly live up to them, even if she could be the person everyone believed her to be, she wasn't sure she'd want it anymore.
"Do you ever think our lives are written out for us, Charlie?" she asked quietly. "That we... that we don't really have much choice in the matter?"
"No." Charlie looked up at the sky, his expression distant. "If they were, I'd be a healer right about now and my mother would be trying to set me up with some nice girl with a desk job." he paused. "I wouldn't have followed my heart."
Rose's heart skipped a beat. "And what did your heart want?"
Charlie turned to her, his eyes searching hers. "Something like this. Holding a pretty girl's hand in front of a lake. Some travelling."
Rose's eyes sparked with mischief. "Oh, so do you take out all the pretty girls to lakes, or should I feel special?"
Charlie laughed, his cheeks flushing slightly. "You're more than special to me."
Rose felt a lump in her throat, her emotions swirling. "And if I don't deserve any of it?"
"Why would you ever think that?"
"Maybe it's just not in my blood," she said shakily. "Maybe I'm not the girl you think I am."
"Don't," Charlie said firmly. "I won't let you." Charlie squeezed her hand gently. "Rose, I... "
Rose's heart pounded in her chest. "You don't have to say it."
"I want to." Charlie looked at her, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I—"
But his words were interrupted by a bird flying over their heads. They laughed, hands intertwined, and Rose leaned her head on Charlie's shoulder.
"I wish I could stay here forever," Rose whispered.
"Me too," Charlie murmured, his lips brushing against her hair.
Rose felt a warmth spread through her, a feeling of belonging she hadn't experienced in a very long time. Charlie wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. He took a deep breath, his hand slow as he reached to touch her hair. Rose felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart tightening. Slowly, Charlie leaned in, his lips almost brushing against hers. Rose flinched, causing Charlie to pull back, his eyes wide.
Just then, the bird flew back over their heads, startling them both and breaking the tension as they laughed. Before they knew it, they were slipping off the stone platform and tumbling into the lake. Rose screamed and laughed simultaneously as the cold water enveloped them, and she floated slightly away from the boathouse. "Marlin's balls, it's cold!" she exclaimed between giggles.
Charlie laughed, swimming towards her with strong strokes. When he reached her, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck as he kept them both afloat. Their breaths mingled, creating a bubble of warmth between them in the chilly water. Rose felt a nervous tingling through her, an urge to close the distance between them, but she could see the hesitation in Charlie's eyes.
As she looked into his blue eyes, she smiled. Slowly, Charlie leaned in again, his movements tentative and shy. Rose's heart raced as she felt his warm breath on her lips, her eyes fluttering closed. Their lips met in the softest, most delicate kiss, a mere brush of skin that sent a surge of warmth through Rose's entire being. Then, the kiss deepened with tenderness, with everything that had been building between them since the first time he had touched her in the dark forest months ago.
Charlie's hand moved to cup Rose's cheek, his touch feather-light. Rose responded by placing her hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. The kiss further intensified ever so slightly, still shy and tentative. But soon, as his arm had found it's way to around her waist, staying afloat became a challenge, so they pulled away slowly, foreheads resting against each other. Rose opened her eyes, looking into Charlie's, and saw a reflection of her own—hope.
They spent the rest of the time before lunch in the boathouse, lying in the sun drying off and talking. They shared stories of their childhoods and families. The stories were interrupted with gentle kisses and caresses, and each word brought them closer; each shared laugh and whispered secret felt like a string that was pulling them closer and tighter together.
"Rose," Charlie whispered, his voice confident. "Please promise me something."
"Oh, don't go soft on me now, Weasley." Rose smiled, her heart swelling with affection. "Besides, you owe me a real date," she added. But, just before she closed the distance between them once again, she whispered, "I'll be very careful."
As they slowly made their way back to the castle, their hands intertwined, Rose's feet felt lighter than she ever remembered. Once he had hungrily kissed her goodbye, her mind was clear. Whatever challenges were waiting for her in the maze, she knew she had found something precious, something worth holding onto. Something to come back to.
And that made all the difference.
Until dusk, Aunt Marion and Theo didn't leave Rose's side. She joined them for lunch, her hair still disheveled from the lake. Marion and Theo exchanged knowing looks but merely smiled at her as she ate, ignoring their questions while catching glimpses of the Gryffindor table whenever she could.
The rest of the afternoon was spent walking around the castle and its grounds. Aunt Marion had brought what Rose most missed from France: a good bottle of red and a pack of Gauloises. Theo was most disappointed to be excluded from the adult activities, sulking beside them on the lawn of the castle's inner courtyard. Rose told Aunt Marion that her father was out of the country due to work, but she suspected the older woman knew the real reason he didn't come—because Rose had sent him a letter forbidding him to.
As they lounged in the courtyard, slightly tipsy from the wine, they reminisced about old times. Marion's laughter rang out, rich and full of vulgarities, while Theo's sulking eventually gave way to amusement at their stories since Aunt Marion allowed him to swear in French. Later, they had dinner with the Delacours, and Rose could swear Fleur was glancing back at the Gryffindor table as much as she was, but that was a question for another day.
They all excused themselves early, followed her to the Slytherin common room and patiently waited while she changed out of her uniform. Rose dressed in all black again, donning a collection of clothing that Maggie had sent her, claiming it would be far more comfortable than anything Rose owned. The strange Muggle material felt pleasant on her skin, both protective and light at the same time. She secured her green cloak on top of the long-sleeved black shirt and put on leather gloves. After pulling on her boots, she secured her wand to her right thigh with a net of belts Graham had graciously gifted her. She pushed her hair out of her face with a thick black headband, another intriguing item from Maggie's collection of Muggle athletic wear. Each of her movements felt light and unrestricted. It was a vast improvement compared to the discomfort of the leathers she had worn during the first task. She smiled at her reflection.
A knock on the dormitory door broke her train of thought.
"I'll be out in a moment!"
But then, the door creaked open, and the last person she expected entered the room.
"I don't really care that we're not talking," Amelia said, slowly approaching Rose. She looked her up and down and smiled, tears filling her eyes. "Merlin... it's like I'm looking at her."
Rose rushed over to her side and hugged her tightly, brushing away her own tears. They sat down on Rose's bed, the weight of unspoken apologies hanging in the air.
"Nott, listen to me very carefully," Amelia said, clutching Rose's hands in hers. "If you do anything stupid—anything—and get yourself killed out there—" her voice cracked but she cleared her throat and continued, "I swear on Salazar's grave that I will follow you into the afterlife and strangle you myself. Understood?"
Rose smiled through her tears and clutched her friend's hands tighter. "Bring Graham, and they'll spit us back out in no time."
The girls laughed and wiped away their tears. Then, Amelia took the dainty seashell bracelet she was inseparable from off her wrist and put it around Rose's.
"You know, muggles believe they ward off evil spirits," she said as she closed the clasp with shaky hands.
Rose raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. "I thought you didn't believe in all that nonsense."
"It can't hurt, now, can it?" Amelia's voice was soft, filled with a mixture of hope and fear.
The girls hugged again, tighter this time. After a silent moment, Amelia dragged Rose in front of the mirror again, fixed her hair with a wave of her wand, and spread a little rouge over her lips and cheeks.
"Perfect," Amelia said, admiring her masterpiece. "Ready?"
As Rose looked at herself in the mirror, she felt a mixt of emotions. She gently stroked her fingers over the seashells on her wrist. With a final nod to her reflection, she turned to Amelia, who gave her an encouraging smile.
"Ready," Rose replied, her voice steady but her heart racing.
They made their way back to the common room, where Aunt Marion and Theo were waiting. Rose's heart swelled with gratitude as she saw the entirety of Slytherin house standing behind them, their wide smiles and cheers creating a wave of support. As they walked through the corridors, some students chanted her name, and just when Rose felt like her feet wouldn't carry her any further, Theo threw an arm around her shoulders and led the way. Her steps were heavy, each one filled with the weight of anticipation and nerves.
Theo walked beside her, his usual aloof demeanor replaced with a protective seriousness. Aunt Marion chatted animatedly with Amelia, trying to keep the mood light, but Rose could see the worry in her eyes, thinly veiled behind her lively chatter.
Finally, they reached the Quidditch pitch, although it no longer resembled one. Students were milling about, waiting for the start of the Third Task. Rose took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She looked at Theo and Marion, feeling an unexpected emptiness because of her father's absence. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "Thank you."
Theo gave her a rare, genuine smile. "Don't thank us, Rose. Just... come back in one piece, alright?"
Aunt Marion pulled her into a tight hug. "Show them what a Duval can do."
Rose nodded, smiling back at them.
As the time drew near, the crowd began to move towards the arena. With kisses on her forehead and hair from Graham, Pucey, and Bole, she moved down the wooden stands. Her heart skipped a beat when her eyes met with a certain boy, his own filled with warmth and worry. She did the only thing she could think of without turning around and running back up the stand with him in tow —she winked at him with a smirk.
When she landed on the grass, Rose took her place next to Potter. Overwhelmed by a rush of emotions, she grabbed his hand, and despite his surprised look, she clutched it tighter.
"—Ms. Rosalie Nott and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!"
The cheers and applause erupted, sending birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. Rose felt a thrill of pride as the crowd's excitement washed over her. She turned her head to Potter with a bright smile as an idea crossed her mind. She raised their joined hands high in the air, and the crowd roared so intensely that she could swear the ground under their feet was vibrating with their excitement.
"Oh my," she said, her voice steadier than she expected, "you Quidditch players must feel like this all the time."
The Third Task had begun.