Chapter 2
September first dawned as it always did: crisp and golden, with sunshine splashing over the Burrow and shimmering around the orchard. The inhabitants of the Burrow awoke, some yawning lazily, others leaping out of bed, all preparing for the chaos that would shortly reign. As morning trod on and Weasleys began to fly about the house, searching for textbooks and socks and broomstick polish, the sunshine faded and was replaced by sheets of sticky rain.
"Mum!" Rose screeched from the kitchen where she was struggling to keep her heavy trunk upright whilst cramming a piece of toast in her mouth. "Mum!"
"What is it?" Hermione's voice rattled down the stairs, accompanying the plink of raindrops landing on windows. "Are you alright?"
"I need you to put a flattening charm on my hair before we leave!" Rose called, patting her curls, which were already coiling into frizzy wisps. "Oh, bugger," she muttered as her trunk went crashing to the floor.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Rose, stop worrying about your hair." Her mother's magnified voice filled the stairwell and charged into the kitchen. "And what was that noise?"
"Nothing!" Rose shouted, leaning over and attempting to heave the trunk upright again. "Just-"
"Why in the name of Circe is everybody shouting?" Roxanne grumbled, slinking into the kitchen and snatching a piece of toast off the counter.
"I need my mum to charm my hair before we go so it doesn't get all frizzy on the drive," Rose panted, squatting down as she once again tried to lift her trunk. "What with the rain and all-"
"What is it with witches and frizzy hair?" Roxanne rolled her eyes. "You're going to end up being worse than Dom, making everyone late because you had to charm your hair and lengthen your eyelashes."
"You lot weren't that late when she did that," Rose said, her lip quirking up as she thought back to the day in question.
"We nearly missed the train!" Roxanne cried. "And it was my first year, it was terrifying! My mum nearly levitated me through the platform, she was so worried we'd miss it."
"Well you didn't miss it," Rose said loftily, attempting one more time to lift her trunk. It crashed back to the floor and lay there like a wounded animal. She simply glared at it and turned back to Roxanne. "And anyways, Dom said she needed to charm her hair because otherwise she would have to wear it in a ponytail all day and that would give her a headache."
"Right," Roxanne snorted. "So it was a question of health." Shaking her head, she bent over and took hold of Rose's trunk. With one graceful tug, she lifted the unwieldy luggage upright and balanced it gingerly against a chair. "Merlin, Rosie, what'd you pack in here?"
"Books," Rose said sheepishly. "I shrunk them down so they'd fit in there, but I mustn't have done it properly because they all weigh the same as they did full-size."
"Are you trying to recreate the Hogwarts library in your dormitory?" Roxanne asked.
"I just couldn't decide which ones to leave behind," Rose shrugged, tugging at the ends of her hair.
Roxanne's eyes followed Rose's fingers to her hair and then slid to the smudged badge peeking from behind the red curls. "I didn't think you'd be the type to put that on before leaving," she said, nodding towards the prefect badge.
Rose's cheeks grew warm and she quickly moved her hair to the side so it nearly covered the badge. "My mum wanted a photo," she muttered, chewing on her lip. "I want to take it off but I'm afraid I'll lose it."
"Of course," Roxanne nodded gravely, her dark eyes sparkling. "It probably wouldn't look very good if the Ravenclaw prefect lost her badge before getting to the platform."
"No." Rose looked up and tried to crack a smile. "Everyone would take the piss out of me, probably."
"And you'd deserve it," Roxanne said lightly.
"And then they'd know I'm going to be a terrible prefect," Rose murmured.
"Nah," Roxanne shook her head. "I reckon you'll be alright." She shoved the last of the toast in her mouth and swallowed it seemingly without chewing. "A bit of an odd one, but not bad. Though," she gave Rose a pointed look, "you'll still come to the Gryffindor post-match parties, right?"
"Of course," Rose smiled. "Why wouldn't I?"
"There we go," Roxanne cheered, giving Rose a brief side hug. "That's the Weasley way of doing things. James is afraid you'll turn into a swot."
"I would never!" Rose exclaimed indignantly. "He should know that."
Roxanne laughed and shrugged. "You never know. Maybe the badge will change you, Rosie. Maybe you'll start patrolling and realize you quite like telling people off-"
"I shan't tell anyone off for doing something fun," Rose shook her head. "Unless, of course," she amended hastily, "it's-you know-dangerous, or, I dunno, there's a professor nearby."
"That's the spirit," Roxanne grinned.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway and a moment later Louis and Albus traipsed into the kitchen. "My dad said to tell everyone to bring their trunks out so he can put them in the cars," Albus said. "And, Roxy, he said to remind you that those dungbombs he gave you have an expiration date."
"Oh, I nearly forgot about those!" Roxanne cried, moving hurriedly toward the door. "I'd best find James and Fred."
"Don't you put them in my car!" Rose called as Roxanne disappeared from the kitchen. "I'm a prefect now, I can give you detention!"
"You wouldn't dare, Shortstack," Roxanne's voice came from the stairway.
"You actually probably shouldn't," Louis said sagely, giving Rose a rueful smile. "One time Vic told Aunt Angelina that Roxy skived off muggle studies to fly and Roxy replaced all her Christmas sweets with canary creams."
"Ugh," Rose groaned. "I hate this family."
"We hate you too," James's voice rang out as he strode into the kitchen, auburn hair rumpled and the sleeve of his Falmouth Falcons t-shirt smoking slightly.
"Mum said you had to throw that shirt away," Albus said.
James shrugged. "Mum also said you weren't allowed to use my owl this summer without asking."
"It's not your owl, it's all of ours!" Albus cried. "And it was an emergency! Nathan's aunt got him tickets to the Puddlemere match and I had to let him know-"
"You still weren't allowed to use Gwenog without asking," James retorted.
"I still can't believe your mum and dad let you name your owl after Gwenog Jones," Rose snorted.
"I can't believe they let me name a bloody owl when I was eight," James grumbled. "And now I can't even change it because it's all he answers to."
"Which is why we need another owl-"
"I know, Al, but mum said-"
"Rose!" Hermione's voice filled the kitchen. "Rose Minerva, where are you?"
"I'm in the kitchen, Mum!"
With a faint pop Hermione appeared in the doorway, red-faced, her bushy brown hair straining against its clip. "Are you all packed?" she asked.
"Yeah," Rose murmured, pointing to the trunk still leaning against the chair. "I just need somebody to take it out to the car for me."
Hermione sighed and took out her wand. With a gentle wave, Rose's trunk rose in the air and floated through the hallway towards the front door. "You're going to have to learn to do things for yourself someday, you know."
"I do plenty of things myself!" Rose cried, glaring at James, Albus and Louis as they snickered. "At school I do everything myself."
"No you don't, you ask Fred or Lucy to help you," Albus said.
"Shut it," Rose scowled. "I can do things. But, Mum?"
"Hm?" Hermione raised her eyebrows and swept her hair from her shoulder.
"Can you charm my hair?"
"Oh, really, Rose, there is no need-"
"Mum, you've seen what my hair looks like in the rain, I can't very well get on the train looking like Nana Granger's dog!"
"You will not look like Nana's dog, you'll look like your beautiful self as always."
"With horribly frizzy hair!"
"Nobody will even notice your hair because they'll be too busy looking at your prefect badge," Hermione said with a broad smile. "Although you can hardly see it now with your hair covering it." She leaned forward and flicked Rose's hair back so the silver badge sat prominently in sight. "There. Now you can see it."
"The point was that I didn't want people seeing it." Rose glared and covered the badge again.
"Rose," Hermione sighed. "When you're patrolling the corridors on the train, you want people to see the badge so they know you have the authority—"
"It won't matter if they see the badge because I'll just be a walking hairball because you won't cast the charm!"
"Aunt Hermione, please cast the charm," Albus broke in. "Otherwise she'll be a nightmare the entire train ride."
"Oh, all right," Hermione sighed, taking her wand out again. "But, really, Rose, this is just ridiculous-"
"It's your fault I have this problem in the first place," Rose murmured, shaking her hair out and leaning toward her mother. "If I'd only gotten hair like Aunt Ginny's we wouldn't have to do this."
Hermione merely rolled her eyes and flicked her wand, sending a chilling sensation over Rose's head, as though someone had coated her hair in a sheet of ice. "There," Hermione said. "All done."
"Thank you, Mum," Rose chirped, giving her mother her biggest smile as she ran a cautious hand through her newly smoothed ringlets.
"I'm not doing it again," Hermione sniffed. "Now, can everybody please start moving towards the cars? We're supposed to be leaving in less than ten minutes and Roxanne's the only one who's ready."
With many groans, they moved from the kitchen and out to the front of the house, where Uncle Harry and Uncle Bill stood between the two family cars. Rose, after seeing Roxanne grinning in the back of one car, hurriedly scrambled into the other. She had no wish to spend her first prefect patrol smelling of dungbombs.
The drive to King's Cross passed quickly, though Rose rather wished it would go on forever. For the first time in five years she dreaded reaching the station and boarding the scarlet steam engine. She peered down at the silver badge mounted on her chest and felt bile rise in her throat as she thought of Lucy's tight grimace, her mother's proud smile. In less than an hour she would be trapped in a compartment with all the other prefects and they would know without a doubt what everybody had been privately thinking since letters came: Rose Weasley was a lousy prefect. Rose sighed and leaned back in her seat, ignoring Al's irritated grunt as her shoulder knocked into his. Despite was Roxanne said, Rose couldn't shake the heaviness from her chest. She was going to be a dreadful prefect and everybody knew it. What had McGonagall been thinking? It was perfectly obvious to everyone else that Lucy ought to have gotten the badge; she wanted it most, she loved rules. If not Lucy, then Allie. Hell, even Maren would make a better prefect than Rose.
Try as she might to keep her thoughts in check, Rose's mind invariably turned toward the prefect partner who would be waiting for her on the train and with whom she would spend the year patrolling. Albus had confirmed the news a week ago but she had guessed as soon as she saw her own badge. There was only one possibility. The thought made her want to vomit. She could already see the crease appear between those white-blond eyebrows, grey eyes narrowing as the pointed face screwed up in a disparaging sneer.
"Here we are," Uncle Harry called, breaking Rose out of her reverie as the car stuttered to a halt in front of the station. "You lot grab your trunks and go ahead, I'll meet you on the platform after I park."
Within minutes the horde of Weasley relatives stood amongst the crowd on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
"You'd best get on the train soon, dear," Hermione said as she put an arm around Rose. "You don't want to be late for your first prefect meeting."
"Mum-"
"Have a good year." Hermione enclosed her daughter in a tight hug. "Study hard. Have fun."
"I will," Rose mumbled into her mother's shoulder.
"We love you."
"I love you too."
"Have a good year, Rosie," Ron said, coming forward as Hermione relinquished her hold. "Try not to be too much of a swot with the badge, yeah?"
"Ron!"
"Sorry," he called over his shoulder. Turning back to Rose he winked and whispered, "Just don't go overboard with docking points. People don't like that."
"I won't," Rose said with a weak chuckle. She wanted to say something then, while her dad was there and nobody else would hear. She wanted to tell him she was scared she would be a terrible prefect, that everybody would see she wasn't fit for that position, that she had only gotten the badge because of her parents. Ron tugged her into a hug, though, and Rose swallowed her worries.
A whistle blew and Rose wriggled away reluctantly, taking hold of her trunk. "I'd best be going," she mumbled with a jerk of her head. "Don't want to be late."
"Of course," Ron nodded, stooping to drop a kiss on her head. "Bye, Rosie."
"Bye, Dad."
Rose took a step toward the train and peered over her shoulder at her family. Albus stood with his parents and Lily, standing stock-still as his mother tried to flatten his hair; Uncle Bill stood with Louis, bending low to whisper what Rose assumed were last minute pieces of advice Aunt Fleur wouldn't approve of; Lucy, Rose noted, had vanished into the throng of people. Rose swept her gaze over the platform one more time and still didn't find her cousin, though she locked eyes with Aunt Ginny who waved and blew her a kiss. Rose giggled, shook her hair back off her face, and turned to board the train.
Rose realized the flaw in her solitary entrance once she attempted to put her trunk away. The lean muscles she had cultivated in her years of playing keeper weren't, it appeared, very useful in lifting a bulky, heavy trunk above her head. She tried once, twice, three times, nearly screaming as the corner of the trunk landed on her foot.
"Rose?" a voice came from behind her. "You need a hand?"
She turned, red-faced and gasping, to find Ly Scamander watching her. "Er, yeah," Rose mumbled sheepishly, pointing to the offending luggage. "I can't seem to get my trunk put away."
"Here." Ly bent down and lifted the trunk, stumbling back a bit from the weight but managing to drop it in place. "Done."
"Thank you," Rose said with relief.
"Any time," Ly nodded. "Though I'm surprised you couldn't do it yourself what with your quidditch training."
"Somehow being able to catch a quaffle doesn't help me lift a school trunk," Rose said with a laugh. "And I have to jump to reach that shelf, in case you didn't notice."
"Oh, I noticed," Ly chuckled. "I think the entire corridor did."
"Bugger," Rose muttered under her breath. "I'm supposed to be making myself seem more serious. Y'know," she gestured vaguely at the badge on her chest, "more prefect-like."
"Rox told me about that. Congratulations." Ly gave her a slight nod and patted her on the shoulder. "You deserve it."
"No I don't," Rose snorted. "But thank you," she added hastily, "I appreciate the thought."
"You're going to have a busy year then, aren't you?" Lysander asked, starting down the corridor, leaving Rose scurrying to follow. "Between O.W.L.s, prefect duties and quidditch, you'll have a full schedule."
"I'll manage." Rose shrugged. "People have done it before. And you'll have a lot, too, with quidditch and now your N.E.W.T. classes."
"Ah," Ly paused, "I—I've actually decided not to play this year."
"What?" Rose's eyebrows shot up and she turned to gape at him. "You're not playing? But-why?"
"I have to focus on school," he sighed. "Especially if I want to go to the states after graduation to work with the international office of non-magical relations. It's so competitive."
"But you could still play quidditch-"
"The team takes up too much time," Ly said with a grimace. "Trust me, I've already tried it."
"Oh," Rose said. "Well alright then."
"Yeah. Well, I'd better go find Rox and Lorcan," Ly said with a glance at his watch. "It was good to talk to you, though, Rose."
"You too," she replied, mustering up a sincere smile which Lysander returned before ambling away.
Now alone, Rose wandered down the corridor, thinking vaguely that she ought to figure out which carriage the prefect meeting was held in so she wouldn't be late. She peered in the various compartments as she passed and stopped when she heard Maren's unmistakable shout.
"Excuse me," Rose said in the loftiest voice she could muster as she opened the compartment door, "but as a prefect I'm afraid it's my duty to tell you to quiet down. You're creating a terrible disturbance."
"There's our prefect!" Maren cried, grinning. She leaned lazily against the window one leg crossed beneath her and dark hair splayed out behind her: the picture of casual grace. Beside her sat Allie with her perpetually smooth blonde ringlets and glossed lips; Albus sat across from them and waved at Rose before returning to his issue of Quidditch Quarterly. Only Lucy, sitting beside Albus with her head against the window, didn't acknowledge Rose's entrance.
"You're here!" Allie chirped as Rose stepped fully into the compartment, leaning over to give her a hug. "Wow," she breathed as she leaned back, "you've got the badge and everything."
"Er, yeah," Rose said, her bravado failing as she watched Lucy turn infinitessimally toward them, lips thin. Rose hastily stepped back from Allie and pushed her hair in front of the badge. "Not quite sure what McGonagall was thinking with this one."
"Well, none of us were expecting it, that's for sure," Maren said, dark hair bobbing as she laughed to herself. "It'll be the talk of the school."
"Yeah," Rose snorted. "Once I've made a royal arse of myself."
"Don't say that," Allie murmured, "I'm sure you'll be just brilliant."
"Thanks, Allie," Rose nodded. She glanced around the compartment and furrowed her brows. "Where's everyone else?"
"Scorpius and Nathan went straight to the meeting," Albus said. "Nathan just asked that we save them some seats."
"Bugger," Rose muttered. "I have to go to that meeting too. Did they say where it was?"
"Do you not know where the prefects' carriage is?" Albus asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Er—"
"For the love of Circe, Rose-"
"Just tell me where it is!"
"Second carriage," Albus said with a poorly concealed roll of his eyes, "first compartment."
"Thank you," Rose sniffed. "I suppose I'd best be on then if I don't want to be late."
"Probably," Maren chuckled. "And mind you don't sit by Scorpius. I reckon if you hex him before we even get to the castle they might take your badge away."
"Sod off." Rose flicked a piece of hair over her shoulder and turned to leave. "The next time you're an arse I'll dock you points."
"I'm in the same house as you, doxybrain."
"Whatever," Rose called as she closed the compartment door and hurried toward the second carriage.
She found the prefects' compartment easily and slid through the door after a pair of Hufflepuffs. The compartment had been magically expanded and was easily four times the size of a normal one, with chairs lining the perimeter and a large table in the middle. Rose quickly found Nathan and rushed to take the unoccupied chair beside him.
"I was starting to think you'd forgotten," he said quietly as she dropped into the seat.
"Nah," Rose whispered, "just didn't know where the compartment was."
"Ah," Nathan nodded, eyebrows raised. "Glad you found it."
"Mhm," Rose murmured, looking at the surrounding chairs. Scorpius, of course, sat on the other side of Nathan, his eyes roving over the other prefects' faces and fastidiously ignoring Rose. Good, she thought with a tinge of relief; she would much rather he pretend she weren't there than transfix her with one of his judgmental frowns. She decided to follow his example and see who else was in the compartment with them. A little more than half the chairs were occupied; Johanna Amal sat several seats down from Rose next to Quentin Collingwood, a curly-haired Hufflepuff in their year. On the other side of the room a fifth year Slytherin girl Rose recognized as Adele Ahlgren sat with a cluster of housemates. Students trickled in over the next few minutes. Rose made a mental note to tell everyone later that she had managed to get to the meeting before almost anyone else. When most of the chairs were filled, the compartment doors opened and Booker Wechsler and Nadiyah Zhou, the head boy and girl, walked in.
"Hello, everybody," Nadiyah trilled, standing behind the table as she glanced at the prefects. She was a tall girl, with dark hair and skin and topaz colored eyes that seemed like small lanterns blazing from her skull. Rose remembered that Nadiyah had worked for the Wizengamot the year before and supposedly been allowed to help with the questioning of an Azkaban inmate. She sat a bit straighter in her chair, not wishing to get on the head girl's bad side.
"I hope you all had a lovely summer," Nadiyah said, her long fingers flickering through a stack of parchment. "This shouldn't take too long, but Wechsler and I just wanted to say a few words before we begin our patrolling."
"First of all, welcome to all the new prefects," Booker said, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses and straightening his collar. "I hope you understand the honor that has been bestowed upon you, and that you will conduct yourselves in the coming year so as to live up to that honor. Whether it's your first year as a prefect or you are returning, remember, Hogwarts as an institution is represented by your behavior and embodiment of its codes."
"Yes, yes, follow the rules," Nadiyah broke in, brushing back a piece of hair and raising an eyebrow. "But that goes without saying, yeah? And Professor McGonagall asked me to remind you all that while this position is one of authority and responsibility, it is also a privilege. Anybody who is found to be abusing their power in any way will face consequences and could very well lose their badge. That includes docking points superfluously, not taking points from friends or housemates, using your position to excuse tardies or absences, and giving out the password to the prefects' bathroom."
"We ask that each of you take the time during the first week of term to acquaint yourself with Filch's updated list of banned items, as you will be responsible for confiscating them," Booker added.
"Yes," Nadiyah nodded. "And we ask that you also wear your badges at all hours for the first week of term, not just during patrols, so if younger students need help you are easily identifiable."
A faint murmuring went around the room and Rose groaned internally, glancing down at the damned badge glimmering against her robes.
"Wechsler and I will distribute passwords to Gryffindor and Slytherin prefects before the feast starts," Nadiyah said, evidently choosing to ignore the prefects' reactions. "And now," she held up the stack of papers in her hand, "I have the schedules for corridor patrols. You'll be with your usual partners. If, for some reason, you can't patrol at your allotted time come speak with me or Wechsler and we'll figure something out. Everybody can take a sheet," she took her wand out of her pocket and waved it so the papers dispersed, one flying into the hands of every prefect in the compartment. Rose clutched hers and scanned it. She and Scorpius were on the first patrol shift in the third carriage.
"So," Nadiyah called over the chatter and rustling of parchment, "that's all for now. Those of you on the first patrol have a few minutes to get to your carriages; everyone else make sure you keep an eye on the time so you aren't late. Enjoy the rest of your train ride and remember we'll deliver the term's patrol schedule to each of you the first day of classes."
Rose stood and turned to face Nathan. "When's your patrol?"
"Er," he glanced at his parchment, "second shift, first carriage. You?"
"We have the first shift," Scorpius answered as Rose opened her mouth. She frowned but said nothing.
"You're lucky," Nathan groaned. "You get it over with."
"I suppose." Scorpius shrugged, turning his gaze down to his watch. "Although we'd better get on if we're not to be late. I'll see you later in the compartment." He folded his parchment, pinching the edge to tighten the crease, and put it in his pocket before turning toward the door. Rose turned to Nathan and grimaced, folding her arms across her chest. Nathan merely shrugged. Rose rolled her eyes and made to follow Scorpius.
The door clattered to a close behind her and Rose found Scorpius waiting in the corridor, his lower lip caught between his teeth and his fingers tapping against his thigh.
"Shall we get this over with, then?" she grumbled as she approached. Scorpius nodded and started walking, his fingers still tapping maddeningly against his robes. "Right," Rose huffed, pursing her lips and trotting to catch up to him.
The third carriage was rather quiet; from what Rose could gather through covert glances into the compartments, it was mostly first years and N.E.W.T. students, either too nervous or too bored to cause much trouble. She and Scorpius meandered up and down the corridor, occasionally pausing in front of particularly rowdy compartments.
"Pretty quiet here, hm?" she mused after forty-five minutes of silence.
"Mhm," he mumbled, stooped forward with his hands in his pockets.
Rose sighed and rolled her eyes. Her finger hooked around a piece of hair, twisting it. She counted as she twisted, one revolution around the finger per second. One...two...three…
She did ten revolutions and then counted as she slowly unwound the hair. There, that was twenty seconds. If she did that three times in a row it would be a full minute passed. And if she did that seventy-five times in a row it would be the end of the patrol. She began winding the strand around her finger again. One...two...three…
Scorpius coughed and checked his watch. Rose chewed the inside of her cheek to hold back a slew of comments, some sarcastic and some simply rude. Scorpius scratched the back of his neck and stifled a yawn. Rose sighed again and let the piece of hair fall away from the finger, settling over the silver prefect badge.
The next hour and fifteen minutes passed excruciatingly, with only Scorpius's finger-tapping to serve as background noise and no excitement to speak of other than Rose nearly falling on her bum when the train jolted unexpectedly. With half an hour to go, she began twisting the piece of hair around her finger again and again, counting silently and wondering if she could get out of patrols if her finger fell off. At last, their replacements, the sixth year Hufflepuff prefects, arrived, and they were free to go. Rose heaved out a sigh and unwound the hair from her purple finger. It throbbed as invisible pins pricked the skin, the purple fading to red and then to its natural pale hue.
They walked back to the first carriage, neither speaking. Scorpius had his hands shoved deep his robes pockets and his shoulders hunched, moving quickly through the corridor as though Rose weren't there. She stayed a few steps behind him, trying to conceal her heavy breathing from the half-jog she had been doing since the prefect meeting ended.
Scorpius stopped at the compartment and slid the door open carefully, holding it just long enough for Rose to catch up to him.
"How were patrols?" Albus asked, looking up as Rose and Scorpius silently walked in and took seats, with her next to Allie and him next to Albus.
"Alright," Scorpius shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "The third carriage was fairly quiet."
"You didn't catch anyone snogging?" Maren asked, turning to Rose with an impish grin.
"No," Rose shook her head, leaning back in her seat. "They were a pretty tame lot. Say, has the sweets trolley come through yet?"
"About an hour ago," Maren replied, digging in her robes pocket. "Here, I saved you a chocolate frog." She tossed the sweet over Allie so it landed in Rose's lap. "I took the card, though. It was Abigail Williams and I've not gotten her yet."
"Everybody's collections were ruined once they added the American cards," Albus said with a shake of his head. "I dunno what they were thinking."
"If it means I stop getting my mum and dad they can add as many cards as they like," Rose grumbled as she tore into the package.
"You'll still probably get them," Albus said. "I read somewhere they're the most popular collectible cards."
"Of course they are," Rose snorted, biting off the frog's head. "Bloo'y gol'en trio."
"Rose, don't talk with your mouth full," Lucy said, rolling her eyes.
Rose stopped chewing and hurriedly swallowed, her eyes watering as the still solid chocolate scraped down her throat. "Sorry," she murmured.
Lucy didn't answer, just tugged at the end of her ponytail and turned back toward the window.
Rose bit her tongue and began wrapping the piece of hair around her finger again.
"So, er," Albus stammered, looking around the compartment. "How was the meeting? Who all's prefects from our year?"
"It was fine," Rose said at the same time that Scorpius said, "Adele Ahlgren." Both stopped talking and Rose hastily clamped her mouth shut. Scorpius's eyes flickered towards her, his eyebrows knitting together in some unspoken question. On the other side of Albus, Lucy watched them both with her face screwed up in a tight frown. Rose swallowed and turned her gaze to her hands. "You go on," she said.
Scorpius nodded and relayed the various fifth years who had been granted badges, offering a flicker of a smile as he began to repeat Booker and Nadiya's speech.
"So you really have to wear your badge at all times for the first week?" Maren laughed when Scorpius finished.
"Yeah," Rose groaned. "It's bollocks."
"It's so that prefects are identifiable," Scorpius said. "In case any younger students need to find someone in a hurry."
Maren snorted. "Hopefully they find you and not Rose."
"Hey!" Rose frowned, a bit stung. "I can help a first year if they need it."
"I'm not saying you couldn't-"
"They'll most likely need directions if anything," Scorpius said calmly, eyebrows raised and his gaze not moving from Maren. "I'm sure anyone can handle that."
Rose ground her teeth but said nothing as Maren conceded.
"Say, Al," Scorpius said as he shrugged off his robes, "you don't happen to have exploding snap with you, do you?"
"When do I not?" Albus grinned and delved his hand into his bag. "Shall we have a tournament?"
"What are the stakes?" Scorpius asked, taking out his wand and laying it on the table.
"Losing team buys the next round of sweets?"
Scorpius looked around the compartment, eyes flickering from Maren to Lucy to Allie. "Does that sound good to everyone?"
"Sounds brilliant," Rose said loudly, unraveling the lock of hair from her tingling finger as she stared at Scorpius's turned head. "I'll be on Al's team."
The exploding snap tournament lasted for nearly two hours, ending only when Nathan returned from his patrol.
"What's going on?" he asked, the corner of his mouth quivering as he took a seat across from Rose.
"Scorpius is cheating!" Albus cried, his one undamaged eyebrow crashing down in indignation.
"I'm not cheating, I'm just beating you," Scorpius said coolly. He threw down another card, which shook violently. "And it's your play."
"Rose, you go," Albus bit out, hunching over his cards.
Rose tentatively took a card from her hand and set it in the middle of the table, hastily scooting back as far as she could. The card shook and sparked, but then lay still. Allie, sitting next to Scorpius, gingerly dropped her card on top of the stack. The pile quivered and exploded with a horrific bang! Allie leapt back with a shriek, hands flapping as sparks spat over her, Lucy, and Scorpius.
"That seems like a good place to end it," Albus said, raising his good eyebrow as he smirked. "That'll teach you to get cocky, Scorp."
"We were winning all the way up until the end," Scorpius said as he patted the smoking collar of his shirt.
"Sorry," Allie chirped as she tapped her hair with her wand, sending droplets of water spraying.
"Don't worry, Allie," Lucy murmured. "We'll just have to win next time."
"I'd like a cauldron cake when the trolley comes by," Rose said with a grin. "And a box of chocolate frogs."
"Smart to save your money while you can," Nathan said to her, his mouth curving into a smile. "I've been practicing my flying all summer and at the end of the year you're going to owe me ten galleons."
"Pfft." Rose tossed her head. "I think the last time you outdid me was Nearly Headless Nick's deathday."
"Or the Gryffindor match."
"I saved more goals!"
"But I had a better average." Nathan grinned. "And that's what the bet is, right? Who has a better average?"
Rose rolled her eyes but smiled as she said loftily, "I wiped the floor with you last year, Nott."
"Well I've been practicing, Weasley. Isn't that right, Scorp?"
"Hm?" Scorpius looked up from his apparently captivating conversation with Allie. "What was that?"
"Haven't I been practicing all summer so that I can have a better keeping record than Rose?"
"Oh, yeah." Scorpius shrugged and turned back to Allie. "Though Ravenclaw's still going to win."
"Debatable," Nathan murmured. "We've got a good team."
"But Ravenclaw has a better keeper," Rose interjected, "one who you're going to owe ten galleons at the end of the year."
"We'll see," Nathan shook his head. He leaned around Scorpius and Allie and called, "Lucy believes in me, don't you, Luce?"
"Of course," Lucy responded, raising one eyebrow. "You'll be the best keeper in the school without a doubt."
"How sweet," Allie sighed.
"Gross," Maren made a face and mimed vomiting. "If you two are going to act like that you have to find a different compartment."
"Come on, Thomas," Nathan chuckled, "I'm just talking to my girlfriend. Now, if we start snogging I promise we'll leave because I don't fancy having you lot stare at us while-"
"Nathan!" Lucy screeched, her face turning a shade of magenta.
"Sorry, sorry," he said hastily. "When we snog on the train it'll be discreet and somewhere private-"
"Mate, stop," Albus groaned, shoving his hands over his ears. "That's my cousin."
"I'm just letting you know-"
"We get it," Scorpius said, shaking his head and grimacing. "Now please stop talking about it before Al actually vomits."
"And is it a rule that you two have to snog on the train?" Maren asked. "We can't have that long left."
"How long is left?" Rose added, peering out the window at the darkening sky. "It can't be long."
"A bit more than an hour," Albus answered, glancing at his watch.
"That's long enough for a few more rounds of exploding snap," Rose said, a slow smile making its way across her face. "We can put Nathan and Lucy on different teams so it's still fair even if they leave to snog."
"We're not going to leave to snog," Lucy huffed.
"Brill," Maren said, picking up the abandoned cards off the table. "Nathan, come over here, you're on our team. Al, budge over and make room for him."
"What should the stakes be for this game?" Rose asked, waggling her eyebrows.
They considered. After a moment, Allie said slowly, "The losing team has to nick us all butterbeer from the kitchen tonight?"
"Brilliant."
***
The stairway to Ravenclaw Tower had never seemed so long or arduous to Rose as it did that night as she and Scorpius led a group of newly sorted first years to the common room. Perhaps it was the third helping of potatoes that seemed to be sitting in her stomach like a bludger, perhaps it was the way the new students were scuttling behind her as though she were their patronus, but Rose felt at any moment the contents of her stomach might find their way to the floor.
"Here we are," Scorpius said when they at last reached the top of the steps. He looked as cool and composed as ever, his chin raised slightly and his blond hair falling neatly along his temple. He stepped forward so he stood next to the eagle knocker, calmly authoritative like a marble bust. The silver badge on his chest gleamed in the night; Rose awkwardly pushed her hair over her shoulder so her badge was more visible.
"Ravenclaw's common room is a bit different than the other houses as we don't have a password," Scorpius said, giving the first years a small smile. "We have a riddle instead."
"So anybody can get in if they answer the riddle?" a petite girl near the front of the pack asked, one thin eyebrow arching upward. "Isn't that unsafe?"
"No," Scorpius shook his head with a small chuckle. "The idea is that we welcome anyone who's willing to take the time to answer the riddle."
"What if we can't answer it, though?" a chubby boy in the middle asked, eyes widening. "Are we locked out?"
"If you can't answer it then you simply have to wait for somebody to come along who can," Scorpius answered. "But don't worry," he said quickly as the boy's mouth flew open, "there will usually be someone who can help you. And anyways, the riddles aren't meant to be terribly difficult. Generally if you can't get it, you just have to think about the question in a different way. Isn't that right?"
It wasn't until several of the first years turned to face Rose that she realized Scorpius had been addressing her. She started, pulling at the ends of her hair and cleared her throat. "Er, right, yeah, what he said. The questions aren't that hard-not like a test or anything. They're more-er-puzzles. They're meant to make you think, so many of them don't have any one right answer."
"So it just wants us to think?" the petite girl said, her face relaxing a bit.
"Exactly," Scorpius said crisply, turning back to the knocker. "So all you do is tap the knocker like this, and-"
"Where do lost memories go?" the eagle knocker warbled.
Scorpius paused, then said, "Into the unconscious, which is to say the essence of our being."
"Well done," the knocker said as the door swung open. Scorpius beckoned the first years inside and Rose brought up the rear, watching the new students' reactions to the airy, ornate room with amusement.
"Boys' dormitories are up that staircase," Scorpius said, pointing towards one of the large staircases. "And girls' are up the other. Boys, if you'll come with me, I'll show you to your room."
"And, er, girls, if you'll follow me-" Rose murmured, pointing to the stairway leading up to their dormitory. "Right this way."
She deposited the first years in their room, answered a few last minute questions, and reminded them to come find a prefect if they had any difficulties during the night. When she had left the first years' room and shut the door safely behind her, Rose heaved out a breath. Her pulse beat erratically and her stomach still felt as though it were lined with lead, ready to drop at any moment. She fidgeted with a strand of hair, her eyes wandering down to her badge, still shiny under a layer of smudges.
"Ugh," Rose groaned, sitting on the floor and leaning her head against the wall. Tears built up behind her eyes and began to spill out the corners. She felt undone, overfilled. Who in their right mind had thought she were capable of being prefect? Who in the world decided to give her the position instead of Lucy or Allie? Who, she wondered, was daft enough to think that she, Rose Weasley, could comfort and corral, direct and discipline? Footsteps sounded on the staircase and Rose scrambled to her feet, pushing hair from her face.
"Oh, hi, Rose," Katrina DeMarco said when she came into view. "Have a nice holiday?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah, lovely," Rose replied. "You?"
"It was good," Katrina shrugged. "Didn't do a lot, but that's alright. I reckon this year will be busy enough with N.E.W.T.s and all that."
"Right," Rose gave a weak smile. "You reckon the team'll be alright this year?"
"I think so," Katrina nodded. "If we can get Herrick on his game we should be in good shape. Though I'm sure you can help us with that," she said with a sly smile.
"What? Oh, yeah, the ball," Rose muttered. "I forgot about that."
"Really? I don't know that I would've," Katrina mused. "But, anyways, we'll catch up soon and you can tell me about it, yeah? I'd better go, I told my roommates I'd be up ten minutes ago."
"Oh, sorry for keeping you," Rose said, moving to the side so Katrina could get up the stairs. "I'll see you around, then."
"Have a good night," Katrina waved as she disappeared up the stairway.
Rose stayed outside the first year dorm for a moment, then followed Katrina up the stairway toward her own dormitory. She opened the door and found Maren, Allie, and Lucy sitting on their beds, reading magazines or doing their nails.
"We thought you got lost with the first years," Maren said as she looked up from Quidditch Quarterly.
"Nah." Rose sat down on her bed and began unlacing her shoes. "Just had to answer loads of questions. First years are rather daft, have you noticed that? They asked the most ridiculous things."
"Rose, be nice," Lucy said without looking up from her copy of Witch Weekly. "We were rather daft on our first night, too, remember. They all must be so nervous."
"I don't think we were that nervous," Rose said. "Half of them wouldn't even speak."
"They're probably scared, the poor dears," Allie said, waving her wand over her newly painted fingernails.
"They're probably terrified." Lucy looked up, her gaze resting on Rose, the crease between her eyebrows softening. "I know I was scared my first night. Weren't you?"
"Well, I dunno, it was so long ago-"
"You were," Lucy sighed, turning back to the magazine, ignoring the lock of hair that fell in her face. "You just don't want to admit it."
Rose chewed her lip. "You're right," she mumbled. Lucy looked up from her magazine, eyebrows raised. She met Rose's eye for a moment before tucking the piece of hair back behind her ear and looking away.
Rose took a breath and leaned down to relace her shoes. "I think I actually forgot something in the common room," she said, getting to her feet. "I'll be back soon."
"Try not to get lost again, okay, firstie?" Maren called as Rose closed the dormitory door behind her.
She made her way quickly down the stairs, hoping she wouldn't run into anyone on her way. The last thing she needed was to be waylaid by a wandering first year. She stalked through the common room and pushed open the heavy entrance door, stumbling into the dimly lit corridor.
The castle seemed deserted, with everyone in their common rooms or dormitories for the night. Hopefully, Rose thought, the headmistress hadn't gone to bed yet. She didn't think she could wait until tomorrow to see her. She let out a relieved sigh when she came approached the door to the headmistress's office and saw the warm light flickering under the door. Steeling herself, Rose knocked sharply three times on the oak door.
"Come in," came the headmistress's tart reply.
"Hi, Aunt—er—Professor McGonagall," Rose said quietly as she tiptoed into the large study. The headmistress sat behind the desk, flanked by scores of portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses. Rose peered at the faces in the frames, her face heating up. "Er, I'm sorry, I shouldn't—"
"Don't worry, Rose," McGonagall said, "you're not interrupting. Take a seat," she pointed to one of the armchairs on the other side of the desk.
Rose sat, crossing and uncrossing her ankles and twisting the piece of hair round her finger.
"So," McGonagall said, surveying Rose, her glasses perched precariously on the bridge of her nose. "What's brought you here?"
"Well, er," Rose bit her lip, looking up again at the portraits, most of whom appeared to be sleeping, though some regarded her with interest. The largest portrait, hanging directly behind McGonagall and depicting Albus Dumbledore, winked at her and smiled. "Why did you make me prefect?" Rose blurted out, her face immediately flaming. "I-I mean," she stammered, "I'm not—I'm not the right choice, Aunt Minnie—I'm sorry, Headmistress—but—I'm—I'm not. I'm going to be a lousy prefect."
She looked up to find the headmistress regarding her carefully, her hands folded on the desk. One of her eyebrows arched upwards. Rose looked away and plowed on, ignoring the heat radiating from her face and the pain of her numb finger. "I'm not good at giving directions, or helping kids. And-and I don't know all the things Filch has banned and I'm not quiet enough or calm enough to be good at patrolling and I just-I'm not right for it." She took a deep breath and murmured, "You should take my badge and give it to Lucy. She'd be much better at this and she wants it more than I do. I don't want it at all, really! I won't be upset at all, I promise! And neither will my parents. Well, they might, but they'll get over it and it—it would mean so much to Lucy. And Uncle Percy."
Silence hung heavy in the air. McGonagall watched Rose evenly, scanning her face through her square spectacles. Rose squirmed in her seat, wishing she were a legilimens. McGonagall, at last, sighed and removed her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
"You don't think you'll make a good prefect, Rose?" she asked as she replaced her spectacles.
"Er, no, Ma'am," Rose shook her head. "I think I'll be a terrible one."
"You don't have to call me ma'am if it's just the two of us," McGonagall said with a small smile. "And, though I know you just gave me a very long list of reasons, could I ask you to please articulate why you feel you're not right for the position of prefect?"
"Well," Rose paused, "I—Lucy's a lot calmer than I am—"
"Rose," McGonagall interrupted, looking over the top of her spectacles, "I want you to tell me why you think you won't be a good prefect, not why you think the badge should go to Lucy. Just tell me why you believe you yourself are unfit.
"Er, right," Rose said, furrowing her eyebrows. "I—well, I don't always follow the rules. Or," she amended hastily, "I don't break loads of them, but I'm not quite as, er, fastidious as others. I'm not very good at being comforting. I did a horrible job with the first years earlier; they asked all these questions and I tried to answer them and be honest and also encouraging but I don't think I was very good at it. It was nothing like Vic or Molly would've been. The first years all seemed just as nervous when I left as they did in the Great Hall. And I'm too loud; I'm not somebody that anybody's going to listen to. I'm too—I dunno—nobody's going to take me seriously as a prefect, Aunt Minnie. You have to know that." Her voice caught at the end and Rose looked down at the desk, her face feeling as though it had caught fire.
"Now, I disagree, Rose," McGonagall said evenly. "I think people already take you seriously and you're the only one who doesn't do so."
Rose looked up, her eyebrows drawing together so tightly her head hurt. "No they don't. People don't look at me like they did at Vic or Molly, or even Dom—"
"Rose, you saw those girls like that because they were your cousins," McGonagall said, "you looked at them like older sisters, did you not?"
Rose shrugged. "A bit, I suppose."
"Now, I understand your anxieties," the headmistress continued. "And I will grant you that it would be preferable for you to be a bit calmer and steadier. You weren't chosen for your tranquility."
Rose let out a dry laugh. "Isn't that what prefects are supposed to be? Calm and tranquil?"
"Many are," McGonagall answered. "And it's an important trait, but not the only one. What I and the staff look for when choosing prefects is leadership. We ask ourselves how comfortable the student is leading others and how effective they would be in the role. And while we are in agreement that you are not always as composed as we would desire, when it comes to your authority and your abilities as a leader I am afraid there is no room for debate."
"But I'm not-"
"Do you know why you were chosen for this position instead of any of your friends?" McGonagall asked, raising her eyebrows as her eyes bore into Rose's. " It's because I, as well as several members of faculty, believe you are not a follower, but one who takes charge. We would like to see that quality develop."
"But," Rose blinked, a bit taken aback, "Lucy-"
"Lucy is a lovely girl with many fine qualities," McGonagall said. "I know you know that and I am not arguing it. She is organized, calm, and can be counted upon to uphold rules but you, Rose, have a sense of justice and courage that we felt stood out. You have the ability to be both a natural and an effective leader."
Rose stared at her feet, unsure of what to say.
"I felt," McGonagall continued, "as did many of the professors whom I consulted, that I would rather give the badge to somebody who has this ability to lead and help others flourish rather than to a student who perhaps is a more viable candidate on paper but who I suspect only wants the title to appease her parents."
"Oh." Rose chewed the inside of her cheek and looked up through her eyelashes to find McGonagall's gaze fixed on her.
"Has Lucy taken it especially hard?"
"Er," Rose paused, "she—she's been a bit—well, yes. She's upset. I think we were all expecting her to get it."
"Yes, I was afraid of that," McGonagall sighed. "I hope she hasn't taken it too personally."
"Part of it was my fault," Rose said quickly. "I've been telling her for the past year that she was going to get the badge. And you know her dad—"
"Yes, I'm sure he talked about it often. Especially because of Molly."
"Lucy really wants to live up to her sister," Rose said softly. "She doesn't say it, but—"
"It's very apparent." McGonagall nodded. "Yes, I've noticed that too. As have others. It's not a bad thing, but I do hope she is able to break out of that. It would be a pity to see her waste her youth slaving away to reach a goal that isn't her own. She already has so much on her mind."
Rose nodded. "And now this is just one more thing."
"It's not your fault how she's feeling, Rose." The headmistress smiled gently and reached forward to take one of Rose's hands in her own. "And you oughtn't feel guilty over it. I know you weren't expecting to get this , I hadn't been intending to give it to you. But after thinking about it for quite some time last year and speaking with the staff, you really did seem like the right choice."
"And it's not just because of my mum and dad?" The question came out as barely more than a whisper.
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Rose Minerva, do you truly believe that I, or any teacher here for that matter, would make you a prefect solely because of your parents?"
"No," Rose whispered, shaking her head. "But it's what other people will think."
"Well, in that case, you can tell them that you were given that badge because you earned it through your unparalleled academic success, leadership in the classroom and on the quidditch pitch, and integrity. Is that clear?"
"Yes," Rose said slowly, the corner of her mouth quirking upwards. "Thank you."
"Of course, dear," McGonagall patted the back of Rose's hand and released it. "Dear me, look at the hour! You'd best be getting back to your common room. It wouldn't do for a prefect to be out of bed and roaming the castle at all hours."
"No, it would probably be dreadfully scandalous," Rose grinned. She got to her feet and brushed off her skirt before gently straightening her badge.
McGonagall nodded and smiled. "I have complete faith in you, Rose Minerva."
"Thanks, Aunt Minnie. I'll try not to muck it up too badly."
"That's the spirit. Goodnight, Rosie."
"Goodnight."