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SPOILER!!: Quotes 6.3 When Lily Happens Lily held court in the common room after dinner, just feet from the table where Rose had spread out her books so that she could monitor the Monday Gryffindor study session. For being her closest female cousin, Rose felt sometimes as if Lily were a different species entirely. Her eyes were dark brown to Rose’s firewhiskey-colored, wide spaced and heavy lashed, and she used them to great effect on whichever Hogwarts male was currently in favor. Her fall of straight, thick hair shone with a deep auburn glow, while no amount of Sleekeazy's could tame Rose’s coppery curls to look like that. Her worst offense, however, was Lily’s creamy skin - not a freckle in sight. It would give a lesser Weasley a screaming fit, but Rose accepted the fact that Lily was just genuinely lovely with resignation. Just as she accepted Lily’s flair for drama and quick temper, it was simply the whole Lily package. She liked Lily best when they were on the same side, fighting the same wrong, or when Lily remembered there was something beyond her own story. Occasionally, Lily had flashes of extreme sympathy, and she reminded Rose strongly of her Aunt Ginny - one of Rose’s favorite people in the world. But mostly, Lily was selfish in an off-handed way. It seemed to Rose, who had to put up with Lily because she loved her, that her cousin wasn’t selfish because she didn’t care about other people’s feelings. She was selfish because she hadn’t realized yet that other people even had feelings. If she was a better person, Rose might try to mold Lily into the girl she had potential to become. It was obvious that Weasleys just accepted everyone in spite of their faults and foibles. Molly was permitted to be tediously boring. No one had ever laughed when Dominique shaved her head to become more streamlined for Quidditch. And Fred was frankly disgusting. There was no one who would take Lily in hand before she grew from being a mildly selfish girl into a completely narcissistic woman. But Rose had plenty on her plate, so to speak, and not a speck of room left to devote to shaping her cousin. Not just keeping up her grades, but keeping up Al’s grades without making it completely obvious. Plugging into more extracurricular activities to seem well rounded. Completing prefect duties without seeming taxed by them. Ruining Yates' chances at Head Boy. She really ought to write all this down. Lists were dead useful. From the front cover of her thick Potions text, Rose withdrew a folded piece of lined paper that matched exactly the pages found in the little journal she'd hidden in the library a few weeks back. It was just luck she'd stumbled upon the ad in the Daily Prophet last July, notifying interested parties that Kruger-Bibson Used Books was selling charmed quills and journals at a reduced rate. After the debacle last term when Lily had 'mysteriously' discovered Rose's old journal tucked under her mattress and, at the encouragement of James and Fred, had read excerpts aloud to the common room, Rose had been mulling over the logistics of journal management on a distractingly continuous basis. Thankfully, Lily had only read some of the more benign beginning bits before Rose had returned from patrolling the corridors and discovered the younger girl acting out her first Care of Magical Creatures class for the entire house. With the help of Al, who had bodily tackled his sister to the floor, Rose rescued her journal and hid it again, but she never felt completely safe about the whole journal situation from that day forward. Lily might have waved off any concerns that Rose had a right to be embarrassed or outraged over the invasion of her privacy, insisting that she couldn't be embarrassed when her whole life had been so boring thus far, but it was pretty clear the younger girl was still prowling for a chance at that journal. She continued to show up uninvited in their dormitory until the end of the term. This new journal was a much safer bet. Briefly, Rose had considered giving up the entire practice of journaling, but at some point, it had become a necessary catharsis. Spilling her thoughts on a piece of paper was different than sharing with a real person, but it was better in some ways. There was no judgement, no hurrying her through her story so someone could share their own, no one looking bored as she agonized over whether or not certain decisions were a good idea. Perhaps Lily was bored by the Decision to Buy the Dress, but the journal never got bored. That was the beauty of it - Rose didn't write in the journal to keep people entertained. She wrote in it because she needed to, and lately, it felt like she needed to write more than ever. The new journal worked perfectly to avoid snooping, because she never actually had to have it on her. While the actual journal was hidden in a charmed space in the library, Rose could jot down her thoughts on this single piece of paper as they occurred to her. The writing magically transferred to the hidden journal and disappeared from Rose's page, leaving her with an ever blank slate on which to work and leaving her journal safely hidden beyond the reach of prying eyes. She jotted down her checklist for 'Path to Getting Head Girl', having only a moment to tuck the paper back into her text book before Al threw himself into the chair across from her. It was a wonder furniture in the Gryffindor common room lasted more than a season with the way these boys abused it, but Rose didn’t have time for rebuke. Al’s expression gave her pause. “If I have to listen to any more of that, I’m going to vomit.” “Disgusting,” Jayne agreed, sliding into the empty chair beside Rose and rearranging Rose’s books on the table to make room for her elbows. Both Al and Jayne had lingered after dinner, leaving Rose to rush back to the common room to organize the study session. It came as no surprise that they'd managed to dawdle long enough to miss any actual studying. “What's disgusting?” Al jerked his head at Lily. Although her cousin and her cohorts were practically sharing space with her, Rose had managed to block out the conversation occurring around her. She tilted her head in their direction, hoping for some key to help puzzle out Al’s foul mood. In spite of the high spirits of the rest of the house over their Quidditch victory this past weekend, Al had been nursing a bad mood for a couple of weeks. If his mood wasn't so perplexing, Rose would be well sick of him by now. Today, however, his mood was warranted. Lily perched on the arm of the sofa, her posture suggesting a courtly raiment should be draped on her lithe figure. “There really is no contest, you know? I mean Tyler Montague is prefect, but he’s a seventh year. Far too old. And Apollo Burke is a prefect too, but he lacks a certain charisma and carriage. Jason Urquhart is shorter than I am, and he's the last of the Slytherin prefects. And it has to be someone at least a year older, so we can be engaged for my entire seventh year. That’s how it’s done properly - consider how inconsequential Victoire's epic romance became once Teddy was gone because she failed to properly tie him down. Really, Malfoy is the only reasonable choice. He’s handsome enough, that’s for sure, only I wish he wasn’t two years older than me. It’s better if we were only one year apart. Do you think people will get bored of the engagement if I’m engaged for my sixth and seventh? And if we wait until my seventh, then maybe people will have forgotten… no. He’s still the best choice. My own Slytherin prince.” “Oh, that’s awful,” Rose murmured in agreement. Hugo and the other Weasley boys were occasionally idiots, but Lily seemed to be making it her goal to take it to a new level. And she actually had other fourth and fifth grade girls sitting around nodding at her as if she made sense. Queen of the Idiots. “What the hell is that?” Al’s fists hit the polished tabletop, sending Rose’s books toppling to the floor. She scrambled after them. “Disgusting,” Jayne said again, although she was obviously biting back a grin. She clasped her hands beneath her pointed chin. “My own Slytherin prince. Blah blah. Vomit vomit.” Rose, choking on a chortle, hit her head on the bottom of the table and nursed the wound as she slid back into her seat. “Where did that bit come from? The Slytherin prince?” “Some Romeo and Juliet stuff. She’s all about star-crossed lovers and ‘from two houses divided’ crap right now. Has been since the summer. Apparently her best love story has her falling in love with her mortal foe.” Mortal foe? Rose wasn’t entirely sure Scorpius Malfoy knew who Lily was, let alone considered her to be his mortal foe. Did ‘mildly annoying foe’ count for anything? Or even ‘spoiled daughter of the man who was once your father’s mortal foe but is now a politely passing acquaintance’? Didn’t really roll off the tongue the same way, did it? “Do you suppose she knows that everyone dies at the end of Romeo and Juliet?” Rose fingered the lump on her forehead gingerly. Not concussed, although she would certainly have a bruise tomorrow if she didn’t get it treated. She didn’t fancy facing Arithmancy looking like a troll victim. “That’s well beyond the point, isn’t it?” Al thrust all his fingers at Lily and wiggled in them in some strange, wordless curse. Rose seldom saw him get this agitated about anything, although if anyone could draw ire from the extremely mellow Potter sibling, it was likely to be Lily herself, especially building on top of his current moodiness. “This… this is sick.” “Because it’s Malfoy?” Rose gave up trying to scrape bangs across the lump and peered at Al curiously. Was it possible for Al's moodiness to sink from being generally disagreeable to outright dislike for some undeserving individual? He'd never had a hard word for the Slytherin before today. “Because she’s my sister,” he hissed. “And it’s disgusting.” Jayne was ever helpful. “She sounds like a bloody moron with her prince and engagement talk. She’s fourteen, and Malfoy doesn’t dabble in Gryffindors.” None of the Slytherin boys did, really. In spite of years of peace between the houses, there still existed an unspoken divide between them that was only crossed by the bravest, stupidest, or those who were so hopelessly entangled in lust or infatuation that the judgement of their peers could not dissuade them. Lily happened to be all three. “Jayne? Have a look at my forehead, please?” Rose let the girl probe her knot with cool, calloused fingers. “Easy fix. It would be a beaut, though. You sure you want me to get rid of it?” Jayne was one of those strange breed that viewed a scar as a point of honor and a wound as a point of interest. With older brothers and a passionate love for Quidditch, she was also the best to call on for common room healings. “Murtlap essence, I think. I have some in my trunk.” Al's ire had faded, and he watched the ministration of Rose’s wound with a detached look on his face. It almost felt like the moment to ask him what long-legged thing had been chewing on his bum lately, but Lily started up again with her nonsense and Al turned cross again. “No, I think having more than a dozen bridesmaids is really show-offy, don’t you? You aren’t offended, are you? It’s impossible to have everyone in the wedding party, even though you know how much I'd love to have you. Maybe we can put you at a table with…” Enough was enough. “Lily!” Rose and Albus’s voices rang in unison across the common room, and nearly everyone stopped short to see what was happening. Those who hadn’t been a part of Lily’s little show had been forced to bear witness to it, and heads in the room turned to see what new drama would unfold. Her hands stilled, and Lily curled her lip at the interruption. “What? You’re interrupting our conversation! It's rude.” Without conferring, without even looking at each other, Rose and Albus shared a single sentiment. “Shut. Up.” Lily slid from the back of the sofa, curled fists tucked tight at her sides and eyes burning with fury. Although Lily was quick to embarrass someone for her own amusement, she didn't handle it nearly as well as she dealt it out. In this case, it was a two-pronged attack, and her eyes darted between her two opponents before Lily finally settled on who she considered to be the greater offender. "You're not the boss of everyone, Rose." That stung a bit, especially because Rose was certain she wasn't the only one in the common room who found Lily's actions to be ridiculous. Not only that, but she wasn't even the only one to tell the girl to knock if off. Why wasn't she spitting venom at her brother? "I didn't say I..." "You think you can tell everyone what to do all the time! You do!" Lily yanked off her slipper and threw it in Rose's direction, although the shoe bounced pathetically along the floor before coming to rest in front of the table. Jayne reached out with one foot from her seat and touched the discarded slipper. "What is it with Potters and throwing shoes?" "Technically, I kicked mine," Al offered with a careless shrug. He'd moved on. Rose snugged her arms up around her, turning her body away from Al and Jayne and their playful banter. Neither of them deemed it necessary to rise to her defense, which left a resounding echo in the quiet common room. They agreed. By not speaking up, Al and Jayne were giving their tacit agreement that they thought she was bossy too. Her best friends were presented with an opportunity to speak on her behalf, to not allow horrible Lily to have the last word in a fight that was clearly not even about Rose, and they had failed. And she was absolutely, positively, definitely, 100% not going to let it upset her. "Rosie." Yates Shacklebolt poked his head through the round common room door and gave her that broad grin he only put on for large crowds and professors. He couldn't possibly know what he was interrupting, and Rose tried not to hate him even a little bit for the way the knots of tension in the room seemed to unravel a bit at his entrance. "You ready for rounds?" She nodded, voiceless for perhaps only the third or fourth time in her life, as she banished her books and things up to the dormitory. Yates was actually saving her from this moment of excruciating embarrassment. Actually the hero. Again. She wanted to punch his stupid face. |
:P Well if I have your blessing... *pesters Scorp* And poor Rose. Although I love the trick with the journal. |
*all caught up* I'm so curious about the house as well! Love the Romeo and Juliet stuff. :lol: There is so much I love about these characters. *fangirls them all* |
I like the Romeo and Juliet theme too makes Lily's dramatising stand out brilliantly! Though reading out someone's diary is awful ouch for Rose... |
SPOILER!!: Comments 6.4 Old and New Rounds The prefect patrol schedule that Yates had drafted over the summer had seen heavy revision at the hands of Acantha Zabini before finally being passed to the prefects. To hear Yates talk about it, however, he had created the current schedule with his own clever quill and was single-handedly responsible for everything the prefects were doing right. No one bothered in correcting his posturing; Rose didn't because people gave her an exasperated look that suggested her correction was born out of jealousy, but everyone else just didn't care. He was careful not to brag in front of Zabini, and people were content to let him take credit where he could. Rose preferred the schedule as drafted by the Head Girl, although admittedly, she'd never had a chance to critique Yates'. Granted, the sixth year prefects spent more time in the corridors than the fifth and seventh years, but with extra studies necessary for OWLs and NEWTs, that was as it should be. The Hufflepuff sixth years, Alice Puckeridge and David Otterburn, had complained about Saturday night assignments, but Rose was unfazed. Someone had to keep an eye out on Saturday night, especially as the students seemed especially inclined to wander the halls after hours over the weekends. Tonight, a Monday evening in early November, Rose and Yates were assigned to patrol for the first hour after curfew. It was always an uneventful shift, and they typically only encountered students scurrying back from the library or office hours with a professor. If it had been a bit more eventful, Rose might have been able to get away with ignoring Yates as if she was patrolling on her own. For the past few weeks, since her resolution to sabotage his chances at Head Boy, Rose had been forcing herself to respond to his attempts at conversation with brief, polite answers. She didn't invite conversation, but there was no need for him to realize how much she loathed him. Not if she hoped to go undetected as she worked against him. Yates didn't notice that she was marginally more polite than she'd been before their confrontation in Hogsmeade, a point for which Rose should have been more grateful. Instead, she was baffled by him. How could someone react in exactly the same way to steady ill will as he did when that ill will vanished? Was he so completely oblivious that he didn't see a change in her behavior, or was his persistent need to invade her personal space something that had nothing at all to do with how Rose reacted to him? It had been two weeks since her Hogsmeade resolution, but Rose was disappointed in her inability to come up with a decent plan. Yates was a scoundrel, but she was incapable of proving it to other people. In other circumstances, Rose could create a detailed list of major goals comprised of manageable smaller ones out of thin air, and she took great pleasure in checking items off as they were completed. For this, however, the list simply said "Ruin Yates" and the rest was blank. It showed a decided lack of effort and drive on her part. If she waited much longer, it would be Christmas, and mid-term grades would be entered and everyone would be leaving for the holidays. If she was going after his grades, Rose needed to act soon. And December would be a wash with everyone so loved up on the idea of holidays. January would be the same, with people smugly content over time off and food and presents. If she was going to act, it had to be soon. Now. "You're quiet tonight." Yates hesitated on the landing at the third floor, debating whether to continue all the way to the ground floor or to start their patrols here. Rose had a very clear opinion on the most effective way to do their rounds, but she didn't care to share them at the moment. Quiet? Try silent as death. She was still furious with everyone involved over the scene in the common room, and her head continued to throb from hitting it on the table. Lily had been out of line, but Al and Jayne had been the major disappointment. And whereas normally Rose would take her rage away to a quiet place where she could either logic her way through it or break something into a million pieces, she was stuck with Yates instead. And he wanted her to be chatty. He was lucky she wasn't planning ways to break him into a million pieces. "But then, I suppose you're quiet every night. Seriously contemplating all the locations we might find the devilishly clever out-of-bounds student? Or are you mentally completing your end of term project in History of Magic?" It was too much to suppose that Yates would respect her mood and fall silent himself. Instead, he seemed to have taken up outright mockery, all said in casual tone that suggested they were having a jolly time bantering. If banter only went one way. Anyone who ever dared to combat a tone like that was treated like a social moron with no sense of humor. Rose had no interest in falling into that carefully laid trap, and so she continued to sulk her way through their patrol. "Rosie..." "I actually prefer Rose now." To her credit, Rose managed a very calm and rational response, especially considering all the baiting. "It's been a long day. Maybe we don't have to talk." He grunted his agreement, but by the time they'd passed the landing at the second floor and shoved aside a tapestry to take the last short passage to the first, Yates had forgotten their agreement to be quiet. For one brief moment, Rose had been tempted to appreciate Yates for his gift of silence, but he pulled through in the end, as he always did. Yates was incapable of silence. "Do you remember the first time James and Fred took us down to the kitchens? It was after curfew, and you complained the entire way down about how we were out of bounds and breaking the rules. Once we were there, though, you informed the elves that you had to have hot cocoa in a thermos, so you could bring some back to Hugo and Lily. They must have packed three full baskets for us. Do you remember that?" It sounded familiar, although more like a story that had happened to someone else, and Rose shrugged. "The part about the rules sounds like me. I guess I remember that." Yates sighed. Whatever response he had hoped for, her disinterest failed to meet that expectation. "What about it?" It was his turn to shrug. "I don't know. Just remembered what it used to be like. We were friends once." That much was true, and she certainly remembered a time when Yates had been as much a part of her life as Jayne. But things changed. People showed their true colors. "We were." But they weren't anymore. Yates sighed again, letting Rose know quite plainly that she was failing at this conversation, in spite of the fact that she had no clue what he was hoping to hear from her. "And Al and James and Fred were my friends too. It seems sort of crappy that just because you stopped being my friend, they did too." That gave her pause, simply because Rose hadn't noticed that her family had abandoned Yates when she had. Perhaps his goal was to make her feel bad, but instead, it served to patch up some of the skinned areas on her heart from the earlier scene in the common room. Occasionally, her family let her down, but it was good to know that they were firmly entrenched on her side of the pitch. She might annoy them with her bouts of bossiness or make them groan by insisting on following the rules to the letter, but they were hers. It warmed her considerably, and Rose was even able to smile at Yates. Again, not the response he was expecting. "Don't you think we could be friends again? It seems stupid that we have to spend all year doing rounds and working together as prefect, but that we can't even manage to be friends." The problem was Yates' definition of friends didn't match hers, and Rose didn't want to spend more time with him than absolutely necessary. She dug her hands deep into the pockets of her robes and hunched her shoulders up around her ears as she considered his question honestly. Did she want to be his friend? Not a bit. Did she need to put a good face on things in order to get close enough to do real damage? Absolutely. "I think we could... manage to be friends." It was a remarkable feat not to roll her eyes or gag over the words, but she managed it only feeling the slightest bit dirty. Al always said that in spite of her words, the truth was usually written all over her face, but Rose had proven him wrong. She could lie too. At the first floor, they crossed to the staircase leading into the Entrance Hall, and both Rose and Yates peered over the side, checking the shadows for lingering couples trying to get in their last few kisses before being sent back to their common rooms. Monday nights were slow, however, and the entire school felt empty. Occasionally, they would happen upon Filch and his current incarnation of Mrs. Norris, but the corridors were deserted today. Yates pulled himself up on the railing and leaned out into space. "If we were friends, you would save my life right now." He lifted his hands and tilted wildly. "If we were friends, you wouldn't put yourself into danger casually. Imagine the trauma I'll suffer if you break your face and I start seeing thestrals." Rose didn't reel him back in, however, and Yates soon sat up again. He scowled in her direction. "What? I like rules more than I like you. We're newly friends, remember?" "Be friendly, then." He herded her in like a lamb, using his leg as the crook, and when Rose was close enough, Yates snagged her. Rose, in the confusion of pretending to care more than she did and pretending not to be disgusted by him, found herself slow to react. She also found himself within the circle of his arms, a situation she wasn't sure how to handle. He might offer boundaries, but it was just like Yates to break that promise. "This isn't the kind of friends I meant..." "Don't be stupid, Rosie." Yates ignored the way her eyes flashed, or else he was truly oblivious to it, proceeding to smile at her as if he was sharing a great secret. Why did Yates forever insist on calling her stupid? "Next year, when we're Head Boy and Head Girl, we'll be working closely all the time. I think you ought to reconsider the kind of friends you want to be with me. It'll make our working relationship much more pleasant." He rubbed her bare arm with his fingertip, making her skin crawl. And now it became very clear to her why she'd stopped being friends with Yates. He was a fool if he thought she was going to sneak around during their patrols, letting him paw at her while she ignored her job responsibilities, and Rose was a bigger fool for not seeing he had an ulterior motive hidden behind his forced charm. Her hand came up between them, pushing Yates back a few inches to give her breathing room. The flip side, however, was that she did need Yates' good will, at least until the Head Boy decision was announced. And if he was willing to behave like the scoundrel he was in her presence, Rose was more likely to find an opportunity to expose that behavior for everyone to witness. "What do you think?" "I'll... think about it." She couldn't promise more than that at the moment. "Naughty Gryffindors." Rose pulled away from Yates at the sound of Nera Zabini's voice as she came up the stairs, nearly sending him over the railing to the floor of the Entrance Hall below. The Slytherin prefect continued her way up the stairs, light glinting from her spectacles and masking her expression. It wasn't a surprise to run into Zabini here, as she and Apollo Burke had the next patrol. Burke waited at the bottom of the stairs looking disinterested. "I want to talk to Weasley." Nera flicked a finger at Yates, dismissing him, and Rose watched with envy as Yates wandered down the corridor to give them space without an argument. If only he dismissed so easily by her own hand. He scuffed his shoes along the stone floor, pausing once by a suit of armor as if deeply interested in how the metal was joined together. Something in Zabini's posture suggested to him that he keep moving, and Yates continued on to study armor at the furthest end of the corridor. Rose attempted to arrange herself casually against the banister, although there didn't seem a good place for her arms. "We weren't actually..." Zabini held up a hand to stop her. "Unnecessary. Just tell me if I'm correct in assuming we have a mutual distaste for your co-prefect." It was news to Rose that anyone actively disliked Yates as much as she did. Perhaps passively disliked him on principle, but not enough to create a fan club about it. It felt like a trap. If she told Zabini that she disliked Yates, could the information somehow be turned around to be used in discrediting her? People would fall in behind Yates if it came down between the two of them. "Relax, Weasley. I'm proposing a temporary alliance, not asking for your first born." Zabini leaned in slightly, her hair falling as a curtain around her face. "I figure you'll do anything to keep him from getting Head Boy, and I feel the same. That puts us on the same side." The same side against Yates, perhaps, but not the same side in the battle for Head Boy. Surely Zabini wanted Burke as Head Boy to her Head Girl. Could they possibly align themselves now, knowing full well that they would be on opposite sides in the future? Could Rose trust that Zabini wouldn't take advantage of Rose if she could? Maybe she couldn't trust the Slytherin girl the length of a Quaffle toss, but when Rose considered that she had absolutely no idea where to start in her subterfuge, she found the idea of working with Zabini a surprisingly comfortable one. How had that happened? "Fine." Rose started to offer her hand and then thought better of it. Even from the end of the corridor, Yates would recognize that sign of complicity between the two girls. The best part about Zabini's plan, aside from the fact that Rose didn't have to come up with it herself, was that no one would suspect the two of them to work together on anything. "We work together against Yates, but we don't owe each other anything otherwise." "I wouldn't have it any other way," Zabini smirked. The walk back up to the common room was more silent than the walk down had been, and Yates didn't even try to interject his thoughts into Rose's pensive silence. She was grateful to Zabini for that, as well; clearly, the girl had spooked Yates in the long term, and she was able to ponder all the way back to the seventh floor. It wasn't until they paused at the common room door that Yates spoke again. "I didn't realize you were so chummy with that lot." "What lot?" It took a moment to struggle out of her own thoughts and back to the moment at hand. "Malfoy's friends." Being seen with Nera Zabini did more to cement the idea of Rose and Malfoy than anything previously, at least to Yates. It must really be a thing if even his friends were putting up with her. "What do you see in him anyway?" "I'm not talking about personal things with you. Is that what all your 'friends' stuff was about? You want something that belongs to Malfoy?" "Now you belong to him?" Rose growled in his direction, which was rather unfriendly, but he'd earned it, and she shouted the password at the Fat Lady. Without pausing on her way through the common room, Rose headed up the stairs toward her dormitory. There was no real reason to stop, anyway, as there was no one in their house to which she currently had any desire to speak. Especially not if Lily was still around to throw one of her screaming fits. Still, she was glad to find Jayne curled up and snoozing on her bed, obviously waiting for Rose to return. She startled when Rose sat down next to her, but Rose simply rearranged the pillows under Jayne's head. "Get out of my bed, you lazy lump." "What? Oh, oh, Rose." Jayne yawned and stretched, looking just like a cat in a patch of sun. "I'm sorry about earlier. And Al says he's sorry too. Lily was such a beast, and we were in shock about it all, and then you were just gone. Al was worried maybe your feelings were hurt. Were they?" "Not in the least." She shoved Jayne's leg off the bed in order to stretch out her own across the thick comforter. "Al says he was being a prat." Jayne whispered it with amusement, and it was amusing. Al was generally lacking in the self-reflection department. "It's okay. I'm used to him. Now can you do something about my head?" |
Yay new chapter!! I love these characters. <3 <3 |
ew...Shacklebolt is the worst. |
LOL I can totally see Filch just continually replacing Mrs. Norris with another incarnation of her. and also..."Now you belong to him?" ;) |
Eurgh Yates seems awful. But interesting Slythering/Gryffindor alliance... And like SilverTiger love the Mrs Norris incarnation reference :D |
SPOILER!!: Quotes 7.1 Jayne Gets a Date The promise that she would sabotage Yates' chances for Head Boy hadn't been the only one Rose made that day in Hogsmeade. Jayne was being stoic, which was to be expected, and she hadn't reminded Rose about their conversation even once since they'd returned to the castle. Although it might be her imagination, she sometimes supposed she saw curiosity in Jayne's face, a hungry wondering about whether or not Rose had been sincere in her promise to find her a date to Hogsmeade. For her part, she had been perfectly sincere, but it wasn't the easiest of tasks. Gryffindor males were good in a pinch, but most of them would delight in oversharing that Jayne required Rose to find dates for her. There was the added wrinkle that most of those who were suitable dates viewed Jayne as one of the chaps. Briefly, she considered Al, but immediately rejected the idea. If the point of this exercise was to make Jayne feel better about herself, one of the minor ones was to show James what he'd missed. Not just James, either. Fred, Aiden, Dane, Petey... and even Al, all of them hadn't seen how clever and witty and mischievous Jayne Wood could be. She had to be a more interesting date than girls like Delaney Baird or Alyson Sutton, both of whom were generally considered among the prettiest in their year and both of whom were about as interesting to chat with as a door knob. Alyson, at least, had things to say, although they were typically about herself. As weeks passed, Rose worked her way through the potential dates with her usual ruthless lists and charts. The next Hogsmeade weekend was in mid-December, and although she was slowly running out of time, it was more important to find the right boy than it was to do it quickly. Even if she still hadn't chosen someone a week out. She crossed and cut and scribbled on her list when her homework was finished, finally whittling the list down to one name; a name she realized that she probably should have picked right from the start because it was so obviously right. Scorpius Malfoy. Not only did the Slytherin have no open lines of communication with the Gryffindor males, making it unlikely he'd ever rat Rose out to them, but he had a decided interest in keeping her complicity a secret. Taking Jayne out would make the boys irate, especially as she was essentially an extension of the Weasley family and thus as untouchable as Rose was. But more importantly, he felt trustworthy to her, an adjective Rose didn't apply lightly, even if she wasn't sure what informed her instincts in this case. He was practiced with girls, but he never seemed overtly disrespectful. Just because Rose didn't like how he jumped from one to another didn't mean she couldn't see that he was honest about it. Malfoy would know how to react to Jayne's shyness and inexperience on a first date, and he wouldn't be offended if she tried to bluff her way through like one of the boys. He could handle himself, essentially, and he could make sure Jayne came out having a good time. It was mostly speculation, but Rose felt as if her conclusions, based entirely on observation and anecdotal proof, were solid. "I'm asking him tomorrow," Rose dropped onto the sofa beside Al and leaned around to speak to Jayne perched on the opposite arm of the sofa. "Just so you know." "Who?" Jayne didn't need any additional clues to know exactly what they were talking about. She slid down onto the sofa, legs sprawling across Al, who didn't seem remotely bothered about being her cushion. "You'll see. I'll tell you tomorrow how it goes." "What?" Al's green eyes were inquisitive as he looked from Rose to Jayne. "What are we asking who?" "Girl talk, Albus." She blew him a noisy kiss, ignoring his scowl, and returned to the group of third years wanting to practice their palmistry homework on her. The only obstacle left to her was actually convincing Malfoy that it was in his best interest to take Jayne to Hogsmeade. After Double Potions class on Monday afternoon was the best time to catch him, as Al and Yates made a run for Quidditch practice and Rose had a long break before dinner. She could take as long as necessary to secure Jayne the date she deserved. Once class was dismissed, Rose waited at the back of the classroom for Malfoy. As she'd expected, Al left immediately without questioning how slowly she packed her bag. She earned her fair share of odd glances as the rest of the class exited, but Rose ignored them in favor of the tall Slytherin making his way toward the back of the room. "Scorpius." Despite the fact that everyone in the room spotted that Rose was waiting on him, she felt like her greeting caught him by surprise. His gaze flickered in her direction and his expression wavered for a moment, a fleeting warmth in his eyes and a set to his mouth that was at odds with their previous interactions. If she didn't know better, it was almost friendly. "Weasley." His tone was politely cautious, but the use of her last name set the tone. Not friends, barely acquaintances, in spite of the enormous favor she was about to demand. She'd just owe him. An even trade of favors. She wrapped her arms around herself in a sort of strangling hug. All through class, she'd reminded herself that so long as she remained calm and sensible, Scorpius just had to see that doing things her way was best. Now that the moment had come, Rose found the words choking off in her throat. She should start with being brave and then move on to calm and sensible. Gryffindor-style. "Will you... will you walk with me a ways? Just to the staircase?" Malfoy gauged Rose with dispassionate eyes before glancing past her. Perhaps he wondered who they were trying to fool this time, but the room was empty, and Malfoy turned his now curious gaze back on Rose. He nodded once, finally, and Rose decided that even a little cooperation was better than getting shut down completely. In the corridor, Burke lingered, and Malfoy joined him for a brief conference in low tones. Unnerved at finding herself the likely source of intense conversation without actually being permitted to join said conversation, Rose twisted the end of her plait in one hand until something Malfoy said caused Burke to laugh and give Rose an unreadable look. She released her hair and watched him depart with hard eyes, his laughter making Rose positively crackle with suppressed fury. "I don't see Shacklebolt anywhere nearby," Malfoy commented in a low voice when he joined her. Rose measured out her silence as she started them down the corridor. Jayne was more important than her temper, although she hoped Malfoy could feel some of her displeasure at whatever mockery had just occurred at her expense. Still, the corridor was only so long, and she didn't have forever to get to the point. "I wanted to ask a favor of you, actually." She would not rise to the bait and discuss Yates, no matter that he seemed like a mutual enemy. "Have you already asked someone to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Malfoy idly reached out to let his fingers trail against the stone wall as they walked, measuring out his own silence for a few infuriating moments. "If you want me to ask you, Weasley, wouldn't you rather have an audience?" "If I wanted to go with you, Malfoy, I would have said. The whole idea that boys have to initiate everything is so archaic and... not the point." Perhaps it was her tone, or perhaps her word, although it was likely the fact that Rose was delaying as much as possible that drew Malfoy to a stop in the middle of the corridor. His flat expression spoke volumes, and Rose choked out the rest quickly. "You know my friend Jayne Wood? I want you to go to Hogsmeade with her. On a date." The words hung in the air between them, seemingly incapable of penetrating the non-face that Malfoy continued to make. He leaned back against the wall with crossed arms, and she could feel him measuring again, although this time it was the weight of her words. Honestly, Rose couldn't blame him for not immediately trusting that she meant exactly what she said or wondering at her motives. "You know, that's not normally how these things are done," Malfoy finally responded. "But you tell me why, and I might think about it." "Think of the uncharted Gryffindor territory. You're a pioneer," Rose offered a tight half-grin. At least he hadn't said no right out, which felt like half the battle won and strengthened her resolve. "And you'll make James go crazy. He might have an aneurysm or something. Plus, she's good company, you know? She can talk you under the table about Quidditch, and she's got a great sense of humor." And, to Rose, she was pretty enough that his classmates couldn't really protest too vociferously, although it felt mercenary to mention it. Rose wasn't going to reduce one of her best mates to 'pretty enough', and she wasn't going to suggest that Malfoy was shallow enough to care about something like that. He watched her for a long moment, as if he wanted to peel back her layers to get at the nugget truth hidden in the center of her words. "You don't need to sell her to me. I want to know your reasons for asking me. You surely have some or you wouldn't be asking." "I can't..." Rose dropped her eyes to the stone floor under his scrutiny. "Someone treated her badly on the last Hogsmeade weekend. I can't say more than that. It would mean a lot to her if someone like you would be willing to be seen with her. And it might make that someone feel bad about being a gigantic prat." She begged whatever gods might be listening that he not ask for clarification on 'someone like you'. She might be forced to compliment him. "I can think of precisely three gigantic prats," Malfoy answered wryly. "Does she know you're doing this? And that you're asking me?" Only three? Rose could count more than that on one hand, but perhaps Malfoy's definition was different than hers. She had higher expectations for Wizarding kind, clearly. Then again, all three on Malfoy's list were probably related to her. "She knows I'm asking someone, but no, she doesn't know I'm asking you specifically. I hardly think she'd object." She may have been playing to his ego, but honestly, if anything was likely to make James regret overlooking how amazing Jayne was, it would be seeing her out with Malfoy. Even Jayne would realize that. "Do you object?" "No," he said quietly. "I don't. But it will be on my terms, assuming she agrees when I ask, and you'll stay out of it, Rose Weasley." It wasn't as if she could argue with him when she was asking him a favor, but Rose was all wide eyes at being specifically banned from interfering. Maybe he needed her to help make sure things went smoothly! Especially if he was intent on doing the asking himself, maybe he needed her to orchestrate the meeting or help him figure out what to say or... Or. "I'm bossy, remember? I'm not good at staying out of anything. But... I agree." "Learn," he suggested as he pushed off the wall and headed off in the direction Burke had disappeared, the direction in which Rose assumed the Slytherin Common Room was located. "I'll see you at dinner, Weasley." There was no chance to catch Jayne, not with Quidditch practice running all the way up until dinner, but Rose waited in the Entrance Hall with her Arithmancy homework. Because she was seated on the stairs, Rose garnered a number of strange looks from the younger students scuttling out to enjoy the first snowfall of the year. It was a light snow and wouldn't stick, but they seemed intent on running and screaming as if snow was a miracle none had experienced before. Winter enthusiasm in the student body generally lasted until after Christmas, when the grounds alternated between muddy and too miserable for extended time outside. Raucous yelling filled the Entrance Hall as the Gryffindor Quidditch team appeared, dotted with snowflakes and dripping sweat. They'd been nearly irrepressible since their victory over Slytherin, and with their next game against Hufflepuff scheduled in February, Rose had a feeling that practices were more about showing off for each other and for the few students that showed up to watch than they were about improving. The boys all smelled especially ripe, even from several feet away, and Rose was happy to wave them into the Great Hall for dinner. As soon as the last of them had disappeared, Rose tackled Jayne, whipping the tie from her hair and fingercombing the sweaty strands into place. "Don't flip out, but Malfoy is going to ask you to Hogsmeade. You're going to say yes." Her tone was no-nonsense. Of course Jayne was going to say yes, especially after she'd gone to all the trouble of finding her such a date. One that was guaranteed to set chins wagging and jaws dropping. Especially Potter jaws. "He is?" Jayne swatted briefly at Rose's hands, but they stilled when the words sunk in. "I am? Malfoy?" Considering she was in her Quidditch robes and her damp hair was waving back from her face, Jayne looked well enough. Rose stopped fussing over her. "Think about it. There is no one in the entire school that will make James more upset than Malfoy. Now, I'll be right in the Great Hall. You look great." "What?" Jayne grabbed at Rose, who twisted out of her grip with a delighted little laugh. It was, perhaps, cruel to leave Jayne so completely confused about what was about to happen, but Rose had promised Malfoy she wouldn't interfere. Giving her friend fair warning was as much as she dared to do without fearing reprisal from Malfoy for violating his terms. Rose retreated only a few meters away to lurk just inside the entrance to the Great Hall, where she was able to watch and listen as much as possible without actually being part of the conversation. Malfoy appeared only a minute or so later, flanked by Haneda and Burke as they exited the staircase leading up from the dungeons. When Malfoy paused in the Entrance Hall, his two friend continued on to dinner. Haneda offered Rose a polite nod, but Burke smirked at her. It galled her to think that Malfoy had shared her request with the members of his house, mostly because Rose hadn't foreseen that wrinkle in her master plan. She'd been worrying over who he might tell in Gryffindor, but it hadn't occurred to her that Malfoy might spill everything to his friends. Who would they tell? "I bet she ruined it, your Weasley," Malfoy nodded toward where Rose lurked, and she disappeared back behind the door again. "And you know what I'm going to ask, which isn't quite the same is it? So just pretend like you have no idea, just for a second." Although there was a heavily panelled door between her and the two in the hall, Rose could hear amusement in his voice. It wasn't a joke, though! Surely he was taking this seriously! She peeped around the door frame again, gauging that enough time had passed Malfoy might have forgotten she was lurking. It wasn't as if he'd said she couldn't watch, though. Right? So what did it matter if he knew she was there? Jayne shoved her hair back over her ears, ruining any of Rose's attempts at styling in a moment. "You know how it is. When Rosie makes up her mind... I think she figured I'd say no if she didn't prep me." With both hands, she wiped the air between them as if clearing a slate. "Malfoy. How's it?" Malfoy straightened and his grin grew wider, more cocky, and his face tipped toward Rose once again, although his eyes never left Jayne's face. That was called manners, and they didn't teach them to Gryffindor boys, apparently. "You know, the only things I know about you are Quidditch related? But I happen to think you can tell a lot about a person by the way they play . You, for instance. You're quick, but you're not reckless; you're willing to get in the thick of it but you're smart enough to stay on the edge and find the perfect opening too. You don't hog all the glory, you care about your team and you can execute a Porkoff Ploy better than any player I know. It intrigues me, all of that, but I can't fill in the blanks just by wondering about how good you are on the pitch." He was completely in earnest, his entire focus on Jayne in that one moment. "I'd like to get to know you better, Jayne Wood. Would you come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend? Just you and I, and probably a snowflake or two. It is getting a little cold out." If there were other people around, they would likely all be hanging on every word the way Rose was currently, and she looped her hand around the gigantic door handle in order to lean in for a better listen. Was there such a thing as sympathetic nerves? There must be, because she felt as if a hole had opened in her chest, allowing everything to plummet into her stomach. Imagine... all that effort and intention in asking Jayne on a date, and he hadn't even been planning to do so less than two hours ago. She couldn't even picture what it would be like if the date was his own idea. Jayne seemed to think so too. "Merlin. That's loads better than 'Wood. Hogsmeade?'" Jayne let out a great gust of air that was half laugh and half choked sigh. Her eyes drifted to meet Rose's, eyebrows climbing up into the girl's hairline, and Rose felt like she could read her friend's mind. Is this for real? "If you're certain, then I'd love to go. Should we meet in the village?" "We could walk down together," he offered. "We could." Jayne agreed with a widening grin. "This is going to be fun, Malfoy. Scorpius? Eh. It'll be brilliant." She nudged his arm with the handle of the broom she still carried in emphasis. "Scorpius. Or Scorp if you prefer." He grinned and caught up the end of her broom, his expression going from curious to impressed in a moment. "A Cloudskimmer 900!" Malfoy released the broom and very carefully put his hands behind his back as if he were tempted to run off with it and take it for a spin. Jayne brushed the handle with fond fingers before placing the broom behind her own back, playfully protecting it from Malfoy's thievery. "I love this broom more than I love my own mother. I would trade her, plus two brothers, if anyone ever took it hostage. And I'm only exaggerating a very little bit." With a cheeky look that was quite familiar to Rose, Jayne turned toward the door where Rose waited, breathless. "I feel the same way about mine," Scorpius answered with a quiet chuckle. "I'll see you on Saturday, Scorp." Jayne dropped her voice, although Rose could still hear her quite clearly. "Feel free to torture our little Rosie by not telling her a thing about it. I think she deserves that." "She won't hear a thing from me." With a flick, Malfoy straightened his tie as he strode past Rose, not sparing her even the slightest glance. Perhaps she should be grateful for it, as she simply gaped at him as he went, incapable of stringing thoughts together until Jayne linked her arm through Rose's and tugged her toward the Gryffindor table. "You have an interesting sense of humor, Rosie," Jayne gave Rose's earlobe a little tug, and then she purposefully seated herself in among the other girls in their year, Delaney and Rileigh and Nicki Jordan with Alberta seated a few seats down. She squished over so Rose couldn't sit beside her and stuck out her tongue playfully. "I don't want to talk about it with you yet. I'm a bit put out with you." Her laughing expression and sparkling eyes belied that statement, but Rose wasn't about to argue. It was the most self-possessed and joyful Rose had seen her in ages, and she hadn't even been on the date yet. As she made her way down the table to take a seat with Al, Rose congratulated herself on a job well done and ignored the confused twisting she felt in her stomach. She obviously didn't trust Malfoy and that was why she felt so odd about his conversation with Jayne. It was just that it was so out of character, and it made her doubt him. "You looked pleased with yourself." Al sopped up gravy with his chips, turning an eye on Rose. He was too clever by half. By more than half, really. Still, he was Jayne's mate and deserved the opportunity to know how genius Rose had been on her behalf. Maybe later, she'd share the whole plan with him. Rose sent a gloating glance in Malfoy's direction, but a shriek and scuffle from down the table caught her attention. It took Al, Rose, and Aiden McLaggen to pull Lily back across the table, and the boys carried her from the Great Hall slung between them while Rose stayed to wring gravy from Jayne's hair. Apparently, Jayne had mentioned her date to the other sixth year girls within Lily's hearing, and the irate fourth year hadn't taken the news well. News of the incident, and what had sparked it, spread quickly down the table, earning mutinous looks from a number of Gryffindor males. Idiots. Rose ignored them and pulled pot roast from Jayne's eyebrows. "At least life isn't boring," Jayne sighed. |
YAY A new chapter!! Amazing Ern! |
Loved it...seriously, poor girl pot roast isn't something i'd want in my eyebrows. |
I do think he thinks it's just one long and continuous cat. :P And sure, Rose. That's what the feeling in your stomach means. ;) |
Ooooh this is getting exciting! I love dates! And Rose. Your characterisation of her is fantastically fun. Can't wait for more! :D |
SPOILER!!: comments 7.2 A Date and a Favour |
:hmm: Definitely worth the hinting. :P I could totally visualize it all, too. And I want that pastry. :xd: |
Intrigue! Excitement! Gosh I wish warming charms really existed getting dressed up in winter is difficult... And next time? There'll be more dates? :D |
I finished my semester exams today and flopped on the couch with my laptop to read these and catch up. You two dazzle me every time. Rose Weasley gives me LIFE. :loved: I love everything. |
Honestly I like this Rose more than the Rose from Cursed Child she seems more open & real |
SPOILER!!: comments 7.3 See You In Three Weeks |
awww he likes her *pets him* and he's owning up to it slowly |
lalala Freudian slip *ships* Although for a moment there I nearly shipped Scorp and Apollo. :xd: |
I had the same reaction as Nera. Lololol! ^_^ Great chapter as usual, Tegan and Ern. :bow: |
This is great! Poor Scorp. Please post more soon! |
SPOILER!!: Comments! 7.4 Christmas at the Burrow It wasn't really Christmas if things weren't completely madcap, Rose decided. Spending the holiday together was a must for the entire Weasley family, and although her mother insisted they spend some time over the break with the Granger grandparents, it wasn't until they showed up at the Burrow on Christmas Eve morning that it really felt like Christmas. The next hours were spent stuffing their faces from the platters that seemed to be continually refilling themselves on every groaning surface in the kitchen, singing carols loudly along with the badly out of tune piano that Mum always found room to pack, pick-up Quidditch matches in the muddy front yard and games of tag around the tents in the backyard, and helping to decorate the Christmas tree that her Gramps levitated down the hillside and into the living room. Rox, Lucy, and Lily liked to compete to find which room Vic and Teddy were snogging in at any given moment, although the game was less entertaining this year with Uncle Percy's family absent. Molly had somehow managed to get engaged back in August, and that particular corner of the Weasley clan was spending the holiday with Molly's fiancee and his family. The game wasn't quite the same without Lucy's horrified shriek every time they managed to find the long-engaged couple hiding somewhere upstairs. Uncle Charlie was also missing this Christmas, although his brown paper wrapped gifts were stacked neatly under the tree, covered in colorful owl post stamps. He seldom made it home for holidays; this year he was hiking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu with his new boyfriend Deiter, a fellow dragon tamer with wanderlust as strong as Charlie's, it seemed. Christmas Day was even better; the adults liked to sleep in, leaving Rose and her cousins a lazy morning in which the only responsibilities were to help Gram make breakfast and start on Christmas dinner. Considering the fact that Gram refused assistance of any kind in the kitchen, it left the cousins free until nearly lunchtime. Rose holed up with Al in the living room, playing Wizarding chess and guarding the tree from Hugo, who made it his personal mission to swap out the gift tags in order to create mayhem and to tie live mice to the branches of the Christmas tree with bits of twine for Rox and Lily to discover later while handing out gifts. Much to Hugo's disappointment, he was denied access to the tree, and the entire family squeezed into the living room after dinner to swap gifts and suffer through Aunt Angelina's famously horrible egg nog. It was the only dish she was allowed to prepare for the holiday, and everyone politely took a glass that they didn't drink. Rox and Lily distributed the first round of gifts, uniformly squashy packages in tissue paper that went to everyone in the room and contained this Christmas' collection of sweaters from Gram. She'd taken to knitting them in family sets, meaning that both Hugo and Rose had plummy maroon sweaters to pull on over their heads before they continued into the pile of gifts slowly being deposited around their feet. It was a surprisingly good haul for Rose, who normally got a number of books or new school supplies when her family was at a loss for what else to get her. There were still several books, although they seemed tailored to her interests this time around: several fascinating tomes on Wizarding history and an ancient book full of ghost stories from her mother, a daring dress in a shade of pink Rose didn't even know she could wear but that Vic and Aunt Fleur claimed was absolutely her color, and a new set of more durable Wizarding chess pieces from Uncle Harry and Aunt Gin. Her father grumbled under his breath about the scandalous pink dress as he folded himself clumsily on the floor between Rose and Hugo, but his repressed excitement made it clear to Rose that she was about to get A Major Gift from him. "Well. I finally talked your mother into it..." "Ron!" Mum laughed and tousled his hair. "It was more the other way around." "You're interrupting my speech, woman. I worked on this for hours. Minutes, even. Now where was... Oh, yes. I told her, I said 'Wife, our Rosie isn't a little girl anymore and it's high time she took on a little bit of responsibility. The child is just flighty. And we wouldn't let her have that kitten when she made prefect that she wanted because Pig looks so much like a little turkey that he's like to get eaten, but it isn't really fair when she's about to come of age...'" The rest of his rambling speech was choked out of him as Rose shrieked and pounced, smooshing him against the sofa to the delight of Hugo and Mum. It had been a little sore spot back when she'd made prefect, the tiniest of pebbles in her shoe when she was otherwise inclined to be thrilled. Her parents offered to buy her an owl, but Rose absolutely wanted a cat of her own. When they couldn't convince her that having a second cat in the house with a very territorial and quite ancient Crookshanks and the hyperactive Pig was a dangerous combination, they'd put her off with vague promises for later. Rose had almost given up hope of ever seeing her cat, and now her father was removing a mewling kitten from his pocket. Hugo exclaimed over how ugly it was, but Rose thought the darling thing was just wonderful - all squashed face and big eyes and tufts of orange and white fur growing in an unruly mane around her face. Rose ignored the rest of the gift giving in favor of nuzzling the kitten, in spite of the fact that the cat wasn't particularly interested in snuggling at the moment. After a temperamental swipe at her cheek, Rose let the kitten down and returned to the dwindling pile of gifts. Another few books were unwrapped, dull texts that Uncle Percy supposed would help her someday find a job at the Ministry like Molly had, and Rose was politely thanking her Gramps for the rather thick one on home plumbing when she realized the new kitten was missing. "Oh! Where did it...?" Rose crawled nearly under the Christmas tree in pursuit of her missing pet. The as-yet-unnamed kitten stood on a simply wrapped box and hissed up into the branches where it had apparently found the only mouse Hugo had managed to sneak into the Christmas tree. Both lost gift and kitten were rescued from the depths of Christmas obscurity; it turned out the lost gift was Rose's as well, although she had lost track and couldn't remember whose gift she had not yet opened. Distractedly, she unwrapped the gift as the tabby kitten stalked Hugo's untied shoelaces with ferocious intention. "What the hell?" Her father's voice washed over Rose, disrupting the warm pleasure she felt at watching her kitten at play. Before she had a chance to realize what she held, Ron Weasley had snatched the recently unwrapped gift from Rose's hands and called Uncle Harry over to confer with him about it. From what little Rose could see, the box had contained a finely wrought silver blade, although the detail work was no longer visible. She turned the empty box over in her hands thoughtfully, but it was unmarked and unsigned. Wherever the gift came from, it was anonymous. Her name on the tag was written in a precise script, vaguely familiar but not one she could recall right off. "It's for Potions," Rose suggested, and the words triggered a dim recollection of holding a similar knife in her hands earlier in the term. Hadn't that been Potions class? Why else would someone have loaned her a blade? "Please. It's mine." "Who sent you this gift, Rosie?" Her father's temper wavered on the brink, his face growing the same shade as his hair as he snatched the box from her hands and turned it over and over. "Where did it come from?" "I don't know." She saw Al give her an odd look, but Rose wasn't being purposefully obtuse. She honestly had no clue why anyone would send her a knife, and even Rose could see that to some, it might seem like an ominous thing to find under the Christmas tree. Practically threatening. She wasn't worried, though. In fact, there was a warm fluttering feeling behind her ribcage, and Rose desperately wanted to have the knife back again. "Can I have it back, please?" "We'll run some tests on it," Uncle Harry murmured to her father, and Rose thought they were ignoring her on purpose until he held it up for her perusal. "Do you recognize it, Rose?" She reached to touch the knife, but it was moved out of her reach until her hands dropped back to her sides again. The ornate hilt was finely filigreed around a raccoon with glinting gemstone eyes appearing within the twists of silver. "That's my patronus," she murmured, pointing at the raccoon's glinting snout before her hand fell again. Her words sounded rote, although she couldn't place them. "You can find similar knives at Borgin and Burkes." “Borgin and…” Her father snatched at the knife, and Rose saw it disappear from view again as Uncle Harry and her father once again conferred in low tones. It was no use - she wasn’t getting the blade back tonight, and she might not even have it back before leaving again on the Hogwarts Express. The family split up at that point, some to try on new clothes or test out new Quidditch gear and others to dump out the remaining glasses of egg nog and fill another plate of Christmas cookies. Rose gathered her kitten and other gifts, heading for the tent in the backyard where she would sleep in a few hours time. Al fell in beside her in the hallway. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’m going to tell them,” he fell silent until they were through the kitchen and out the back door in order to prevent Gram and Lily from overhearing them, but he continued once they were out in the chilly night air. The sun had recently set, and the backyard took on a dim bluish light from the moon reflecting off the slushy piles of melting snow. “It would be better for them to know and be upset he's sending you gifts then for them not to know and try to investigate.” “What are you talking about?” Rose stepped around mound of dirty snow, and they ducked into her tent together. It was a smaller model tent that seemed rustic in comparison to the double decker Uncle Percy insisted on bringing each year, but there was plenty of room for Rose and Hugo and whoever decided to crash with them when their parents opted to sleep inside the Burrow. Rose curled up on the sagging sofa and set her kitten on the floor. She would need to spend time looking for an appropriate name, although she was certain she’d jotted some lists in her journal back when she had first asked for the cat. It was a shame she’d left her journal behind at Hogwarts, although it had seemed prudent considering how often Lily was in and out of the tents. “I’m talking about the knife you got,” Al clarified. He looked troubled, which was a marked improvement over sulky, but it still seemed at odds with Christmas joy. Surely the mountain of gifts tucked into his arms should elicit at least a small smile. “They wouldn’t even let me touch it.” Rose sighed as she arranged her new books into piles based on subject matter, then rearranged them alphabetically, then again chronologically by publication date. “Was it from you?” “Was it from me!” Al draped himself over the arm of the sofa in move that was very Lily-dramatic, although it was hard for him to look too cross when Rose’s new kitten immediately began to climb him like a ladder. “Don’t you remember our first Potions lesson?” “Potions?” Rose twirled a lock of hair violently as a foggy memory struggled to the surface. “It’s from Malfoy, do you think?” “Rosie.” Al plucked the kitten from his chest so he could roll into a seated position next to her. It bothered her that his tone indicated she was feigning ignorance, but it wasn’t as if she should be expected to remember every conversation she’d ever had in Potions class. “I don’t like this. He’s taking Jayne on dates, and he sent you a Christmas gift. He probably sent one to Jayne as well. What do you suppose his angle is?” “Why shouldn’t he send Jayne a gift? They’re friends.” More than ever, Rose wished for a chance to see her new knife, as if holding it in her hands and studying the fine detailwork would provide clues into why Malfoy might send her a gift. Could it actually be from him? He’d been a bit scornful of her knife, true, but he scorned a lot of things about her. And how could he possibly know about her patronus? “Friends don’t go on dates. Plus, he sent you a gift too. Are you friends as well?” “Friends could, I suppose. A date is just the socially accepted name for an interaction between two members of the opposite sex.” “No,” Al shook his head at her, and Rose noted that his hair had gotten a bit long on the sides and in the back. “You and I aren’t on a date right now. That would be strange.” True, but she refused to budge on this point. Jayne enjoyed Malfoy’s company, but it wasn’t developing into a romantic entanglement that would leave someone wounded. “Don’t worry, Al. Jayne won’t get hurt. I’m taking care of her.” “And no one else will get hurt either?” Again, Rose felt there were depths beyond what Al was saying that she was unable to plumb. “Who? Malfoy? He has dozens of girls to assuage any hurt he feels over Jayne. No one needs to take care of Malfoy.” Al grunted in response, and Rose wasn’t sure if he agreed with her or not. “If you’re so worried about him, why don’t you check on him after the hols? I’m sure Jayne can set up a nice outing for the two of you.” The next day was Boxing Day, and, although Uncle Bill’s family left early for home, the Burrow was host to Jayne and her older brother Alex by lunchtime. Alex Wood had graduated from Hogwarts the year before and was currently a reserve player for the Tutshill Tornados. He was immediately kidnapped by James and Fred upon arrival, and even Al tagged along for the Quidditch game being planned in the backyard. Although Jayne normally wanted to play, she seated herself on the stoop with Rose and allowed herself to be lead through a loud discussion about what it was like to date Scorpius Malfoy, much to the displeasure of any player that drifted close enough to listen - including Rose’s father and Uncle George. Almost against her will, Lily circled closer and closer, a little satellite that could not help but be drawn into the gravity of Jayne’s dating life, and Rose was happy to give over control of the conversation to her domineering little cousin. "Did you hold his hand?" "Yes." "Did you kiss him?" "No, but he said I could." Lily's little nose wrinkled at that. "Did he ask about me?" "Should he have?" "I'm going to steal him from you." "And that's enough fun for now," Rose interjected, sharing an amused look with Jayne. Not only did she suspect that Jayne wouldn't mind in the least having Malfoy stolen from her, but she knew she and Jayne were in complete agreement that Lily was about as interesting to the Slytherin boy as a billywig infestation. Fortunately, Lily got bored easily, and when their subject matter was neither herself or the boy she intended to snag, she dismissed them and returned to ogling Jayne's brother closer to the action. Alex Wood was handsome, although his complete devotion to the sport of Quidditch had ended Rose's early crush on him sooner rather than later. "We have a Hogsmeade weekend coming up again in February. Right before Valentine's Day," Jayne pulled Rose's new kitten from where she climbed her sweater with little sharp claws, although the beast immediately set to climbing again. Rose had spent hours pouring over books of famous women in history to find the perfect name before finally settling on Boadicea. Her cat was obviously a little warrior queen. Much to Rose's displeasure, Hugo rechristened her 'Bodey' over breakfast, and the nickname was sticking. "Are you going with Malfoy?" Rose forced herself to watch the Quidditch being played rather than Jayne, noting that Al was badly out of position and that Lily was trying to coax Alex into giving her a ride on his racing broom. She was so observant, but she couldn't understand what Jayne and Malfoy were doing together. Was it really only a friendship in development? "Haven't we played that out?" Jayne dropped her voice to be sure the hovering players wouldn't overhear their conversation. "It made James crazy, sure, but he hasn't asked me to Hogsmeade. He hasn't done anything. He got about as annoyed as if Malfoy was dating you, but it wasn't... the right kind of jealousy." Rose squirmed a bit at the conversation. "I don't know how to make him feel the right kind of jealousy. I can put all the pieces into place, but I can't make them move on their own." "Yeah." Jayne leaned back on her elbows, eyes tracking the game occurring in the air over their heads. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and there was still a residual self-possession in her movements that Rose had to ruefully acknowledge was a result of Malfoy's attentions. She really did owe him. "He just doesn't want me like that." "Someone will." It was impossible to believe that Jayne had found herself in this very good place in her life and that no one else noticed it. "I bet loads of boys ask you to Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day. I can find you a date." Jayne laughed, and her confidence seemed to wear a bit around the edges. If dating Malfoy had improved her self-worth, then knowing that Rose had set it up did the opposite. "You know? I think I'll do it myself this time around. Maybe I should be looking for a date for you." Rose colored uncomfortably and continued to shift in her seat. "I don't..." "Date. Yes. I know. Would you play Quidditch if I asked nicely? "Only for you, Jayney." Rose dusted herself off and resigned herself to spending the rest of the day on a broom. |
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