The Bends In The Road

November faded out along with the echoes of autumn and December swept in with a heavy gust of snow and accompanying school work. The fifth years all spent the weeks leading up to the holidays in a daze; every professor in the school, it seemed, was intent on wringing from their pupils every ounce of knowledge and sanity they possessed. The homework and exams piled up as quickly and dangerously as the snow drifts outside the castle, and for several days Rose was sure that she would have to tell Grandma Molly she wouldn't be able to come to family Christmas because she had to finish her essays.

But finish them she did and Christmas Eve found Rose in the living room of The Burrow, tucked happily on the sofa between Albus and Fred.

"I got a letter from Uncle Charlie about some of his friends who work with the ministry," Fred was saying to Rose, a glass of eggnog perched on his leg. "He reckons if I ask one of them they may let me on as an assistant, though it would mean a lot of paperwork and maintenance spells."

"I thought you wanted to go abroad?" Rose asked. "To Scandinavia or Romania?"

Fred shrugged and picked up the glass, taking a sip of his drink. "I dunno. It'd be awfully far and, who knows, I might actually miss some of you lot if I'm only home for holidays."

"Well," Rose grinned, "I won't complain if you stay in England. It'd be awful to have you gone along with Dom. We never get to see her."

"If I were her, I wouldn't be too keen on coming back home either," Fred laughed. "Egypt sounds unbelievable."

"My mum got a letter from Dom last week and it said she fought off three mummies in one day at work," Albus broke in. "Isn't that mad?"

Fred grimaced. "Sounds mental. I'd like to be in Egypt, but I'll let Dom take care of the mummies."

"Mummies can't be much worse than dragons," Rose said.

"Nah," Fred shook his head, "dragons are all sweet, like dogs, y'know? They just want someone to take care of them and play with them a bit. But mummies are just wrapped up dead blokes charmed to kill anyone who breaks into their tomb."

Rose snorted. "Right. I think you're the only one who thinks dragons are like puppies."

"Except maybe Hagrid and Uncle Charlie," Albus added.

Fred rolled his eyes. "Neither of you has ever taken care of magical creatures."

"Well Rose didn't take it because she knew she'd fail," Albus said with a sage nod. "She couldn't even keep a fish alive."

"I was eight!" Rose cried indignantly. "I didn't know that you could overfeed a fish."

"Your mum told you not to put so much in and you didn't listen."

"He looked extra hungry!"

"Teddy!" Fred called out, silencing Albus and Rose, who were both red-faced. Fred jumped up from the sofa and walked to the doorway where Teddy and Vic stood hand in hand.

"Heya, Freddie," Teddy grinned, giving Fred a one-armed hug. His hair was black like Albus's for the evening, though it was close-cropped and fine. His eyes were a grey-blue and his cheeks pink, though that might have been from the biting wind outside.

"How is everyone?" Vic asked, looking around the room. Rose followed her gaze. Lily, Hugo, and Louis sat by the fireplace, tinkering with an old radio and slowly making their way through a tin of fudge; Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur sat in one of the loveseats, while Rose's parents occupied the other, their bodies entirely too close and their faces too flushed for her comfort. Uncle Harry sat with Uncle George and Grandpa Arthur, each sipping a glass of firewhiskey and talking in low voices. Aunt Ginny and Aunt Angelina sat on the floor with James and Roxanne, chatting about quidditch while Grandma Molly bustled around the room feeding everybody and making sure no one attempted to change the radio from Celestina Warbeck.

The sofa cushion shifted under Rose and she turned to see Vic taking the seat. "Hey, Rosie," she said jovially, "how's everything?"

"Alright," Rose shrugged, turning and surveying her cousin. Vic was beginning to look older, she thought, though not in a bad way. She had begun dressing more like Rose's mother and Aunt Fleur, with fitted robes and shoes that clicked when she walked. Her blonde hair still fell in striking sheets down her back, but it was shorter and slightly darker now, pinned back by her ears.

"I heard you were made prefect," Vic said, elbowing Rose in the side. "Nice work."

"Thanks." Rose forced a smile. "You can say that it was a surprise, you know."

Vic laughed. "Yeah, well, we were all probably expecting Lucy to get it, weren't we?"

"Yeah," Rose nodded, trying to keep her voice even.

"Are she and Molly at Audrey's for the holidays?" Vic asked, her head swiveling around the room.

"Yeah," Rose said again, sitting up straighter in her seat. "And I think they're staying in Ireland for New Year's, too."

"Wow," Vic sighed. "Odd to think of it being Christmas and not having Molly and Lucy around."

Rose nodded and didn't respond.

"But, hey," Vic said, her face brightening, "I think I've got something that'll cheer you up."

"You do?" Rose asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes," Vic said, glancing down at her watch. "If I remember correctly, it should be here any second."

Rose furrowed her brow. "What-"

"Hello!" The cheerful call came from the doorway and Rose nearly flew out of her seat.

"Dom!" she shrieked, launching herself at the laughing blonde. "You came home!"

"Yeah," Dominique said, enveloping Rose in a crushing hug, "I thought it might be time to come home and see everyone."

"How was the trip?" Teddy asked, embracing Dom as soon as Rose let go. "Any problems?"

"It was pretty painless," Dom shrugged. "The portkey got me to London and then I just flew the rest of the way. Though it was a little difficult the first twenty kilometers or so on the broomstick, I've gotten so used to the flying carpets."

"How's Egypt? How are the tombs? How are your princes?" Rose asked almost without breath, staring up at her cousin as though not quite believing she was real. "Tell me everything."

"Don't worry, I've plenty of stories," Dom laughed. "But right now I think I need to get a glass of Grandpa's eggnog and say some hellos. Ah, maman!"

Rose quickly removed herself from the doorway as Aunt Fleur descended upon her daughters with many cries and exclamations in French, which alerted the rest of the family to Dom's presence and set off an avalanche of greetings and questions.

It was nearly thirty minutes before Dom sat down on the floor, eggnog in hand, and turned to Rose. "So, Rosie, I hear my quidditch team is still making a name for themselves at school?"

"Of course," Rose nodded, puffing up with pride. "We're practicing nearly every day. We're going to be the team-"

"Oh, don't even pretend, shortstack," James shouted, glaring at her from halfway across the room. "Ravenclaw is nothing compared to Gryffindor's team."

"Watch it, Potter," Dom glared. "That's my team you're talking about, too."

"Well we beat your team earlier this year," James replied. "And are currently undefeated."

"Go back to polishing your broom," Dom said with a flip of her hair. "At least Ravenclaw doesn't rely on their seeker to win every match for them."

She giggled as she turned back to Rose; James's angry sputters filled the background.

"So," Dom asked, arching a blonde eyebrow, "what do you want to hear about?"

"Everything!" Rose exclaimed. "Allie gets Witch Weekly-"

"Ugh." Dom wrinkled her nose. "Don't talk to me about them. Every single article in that magazine is bollocks, they've made my life a right nightmare."

"I always tell her that none of those stories are true," Rose said. "But what about the prince you mentioned in your letters?"

"Oh, he was lovely," Dom said with a smirk. "But a bit boring. And he wanted to see me nearly every night, which I couldn't do."

"Because of work?"

"Because of life, Rosie. You can't commit yourself to one person like that, especially a bloke."

"Even if they seem perfect?" Rose asked, thinking privately that if Alec Davies were to ask her to do something every single night she would be thrilled.

"Ugh, especially if they seem perfect," Dom said. "They're always the worst ones, you know. They get you to commit and then you realize halfway through a flying carpet ride that the bloke can't hold a conversation to save his life and still lets his mother pick out his clothes."

"Ew," Rose frowned.

"Exactly." Dom nodded and took a sip of eggnog. "It's not good."

"And what about the mummies, then?" Rose asked, brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes. "Is it true you fought off three in one day?"

"Yeah," Dom grinned. "Curse breaking can be dodgy, but the days that it's exciting it's really exciting. And you know, the other day my team recovered a chest in an old queen's tomb that had hundreds and hundreds of gold cat figurines in it. Cat figurines! Isn't that mad?"

"Mad," Rose agreed. "Why did she need cat figurines in the after life?"

"Who knows," Dom shrugged. "We find loads of odd things. It's all interesting, though, and I've gotten to work with some of the Egyptian archeologists who study it for a living. One of them told me that they think this particular queen was one of the first known animagi."

"Wow," Rose breathed.

"But what about you, miss fifth year?" Dom asked with a conspiratorial wink, leaning closer to Rose. "Tell me about all your boys and friends and boys who might be boyfriends."

"Oh-erm-" Rose flushed and looked hurriedly over her shoulder toward her parents. "It's not-"

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," Dom said. "We'll talk tomorrow when it's just us, yeah?"

Rose nodded, relaxing against the sofa. "Yeah."

"Well then," Dom said, getting to her feet and stretching. "I think it's time for me to get to bed. The time change always hits you harder when you travel by portkey and I'm knackered. G'night, Rosie. G'night, all. I can't wait to see everyone's presents in the morning!"

"Night, Dom," Rose chanted back along with a handful of family members. Rose sat back against the sofa, took one last look around the room, and got to her feet. Snow fell gently outside the window and Lily was already snoring away when Rose tiptoed into the bedroom. As she climbed into bed, Rose imagined living in Egypt and spending her days excavating the tombs of ancient Egyptian queens and fighting off mummies and Egyptian princes. They were exhilarating. The last image in her mind before she fell asleep was of her and Alec Davies together on a flying carpet, laughing and chatting. Somehow, there was mistletoe.

***

"Rose! Rose! Wake up!"

"Eurgh, go away," Rose muttered, rolling over and burying her head under her pillow.

"No, wake up!" Lily prodded her once again. "It's Christmas, we have presents!"

"Can't we open them later?" Rose mumbled into her pillow. "And sleep?"

"No," Lily said firmly, giving Rose a shove so she nearly fell out of bed. "Get up."

"Ugh," Rose groaned as she slid her feet onto the floor and wiped a thread of drool from the side of her mouth. "Why are you so bossy?"

"Somebody has to be." Lily sat cross-legged amidst a pile of presents, her lithe fingers already slicing through the wrapping paper of one. At thirteen, she seemed to have skipped the requisite phase of awkwardness and insecurity, which Rose found supremely unfair. Lily's auburn hair fell in thick curtains down her back, framing her narrow face and large brown eyes. She was tall for her age and slim, more graceful than Rose could ever hope to be. Even now, tearing into Christmas gifts, her limbs seemed to move in a smooth dance, perfectly choreographed and executed to perfection.

"Rose, open your presents," Lily said, looking up at Rose from her perch and frowning. "I want you to see what me and my family got you."

Rose snorted and sat down obediently, tugging toward her the clumsily wrapped gift bearing the Potters' names. "This better not be another box of dungbombs."

"It's not," Lily smiled, scooting across the floor so she sat directly in front of Rose. Her eyes focused intently on the package, flitting occasionally back to Rose's face. "Go on, open it! I picked it out."

Rose ripped through the paper, gasping as the item came into view. "Lily, I've wanted these for ages!" she cried, lifting up the new pair of keepers gloves.

"They're stitched with merperson hair and have salamander skin pads on the fingers and palm for easier catching," Lily said proudly. "James didn't want to get them for you since he said it would give Ravenclaw an advantage over Gryffindor, but Mum and I ignored him."

"Good on you," Rose laughed, turning the gloves over in her hands. "And they're temperature-regulating too!"

"Mum said all the professional keepers use these gloves," Lily nodded. "And they're self-protecting, too, so you don't have to worry about playing in the rain."

"Wow," Rose breathed. "You lot outdid yourselves this year."

"It was all me and Mum," Lily sniffed. "The boys were useless."

The rest of the presents proved just as delightful. Allie had sent a collection of rune fables; Maren's gift consisted of a new jar of broom polish and a book entitled Fifty Years of Failure: A History of the Chudley Cannons. From Aunt Fleur and Uncle Bill there was a pretty silver necklace with a pendant in the shape of a book; from Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur the usual hand-knit sweater and large tin of fudge; Uncle George and Aunt Angelina had given her a box of patented daydream charms (along with a note not to show her parents) and a new quill. In the box from her parents, Rose found a set of velvet midnight blue dress robes elegantly trimmed with gold and silver embroidery. She held them up against herself and turned to Lily.

"How do they look?"

"Amazing," Lily replied, "but come on, put your sweater on and come downstairs with me. I want to see what everyone else got."

The adults sat congregated in the kitchen when the two girls arrived, all of them smiling brightly.

"Happy Christmas," Rose chimed, giving her dad a swift hug and snatching a scone from the table. "Thanks e'yone for the p'esents."

"Rose, really," her mother sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you not to talk with your mouth full."

"Let her be, Hermione," Uncle Harry laughed, giving Rose a wink. "It's Christmas."

Heavy footfalls sounded from the staircase overhead, and moments later Albus and Hugo burst into the kitchen, with Albus carrying a large cage which hooted indignantly. "Thanks, Mum and Dad!" Albus cried, grinning down at the tawny owl.

"You're welcome, Dear," Aunt Ginny smiled. "We thought you'd be happy not to have to share with James and Lily."

"I have to go send a letter to Nathan and show him," Albus said, rushing away. "He won't believe it!"

Rose shook her head and laughed. Hugo came up and sat beside her, the collar of his pyjamas sticking out of his yellow sweater and a lump of fudge in his hand. "What'd you get?" he asked.

"Dress robes from Mum and Dad, keeping gloves from the Potters, and lots and lots of books," Rose replied. "You?"

"Mum and Dad got me my own traveling chess set," Hugo said, sending his parents a grin over the table. "It shrinks down when you're done with it and you can put it in your pocket!"

"Mind you don't lose it, now," their mother said, raising an eyebrow over her mug of tea.

"I'm not going to," Hugo frowned. "Dad, will you play with me this afternoon?"

"Absolutely," their dad said, walking forward and clapping Hugo on the shoulder. "I've been meaning to have a game with you while you're here. I'm getting rusty since your mum won't play with me."

Hugo opened his mouth to say something, but whatever reply had been on his lips went unheard as a fantastic bang shook the floor.

"What was that?" Aunt Angelina asked, walking over to the stairway and peering upwards. "You reckon it was the boys? I was just wondering why we haven't seen them."

"I can't imagine what they've gotten into," Aunt Ginny said, frowning as she joined Aunt Angelina at the banister. "James?" she shouted, "James Sirius, what are you doing?"

Scuffling and hurried footsteps sounded, then James's head appeared over the rail, "Nothing, Mum!" he called. "We're just sorting through our gifts—oh!" Another bang sounded, along with a puff of smoke. "Merlin—Fred—"

"Fred!" Aunt Angelina shouted, hurrying up the steps. "What—"

Aunt Ginny followed her up the stairs and Rose made out a few muffled exclamations, a loud thump, and then Aunt Angelina's shriek of, "George Weasley! We said we weren't going to give them the self-destructing broomsticks!"

"I should probably go up there," Uncle George said, throwing back the rest of his tea and scrambling to his feet. "Make sure everyone's alright." He half-jogged, half-skipped up the stairs, his voice joining the commotion up above.

"Honestly," Rose's mother shook her head, "when will he learn not to give the products from the joke shop?"

Rose thought of the box of daydream charms sitting in her room and took a sip of tea, inwardly resolving to hide the charms as soon as she went up stairs.

A shriek sounded from above and footsteps pounded on the stairs.

"Oh no," Rose's dad murmured, looking toward the doorway in horror. "I don't even want to know what George has done."

It wasn't Uncle George, or even Aunt Angelina or Aunt Ginny who appeared. Rather, Dom appeared in front of the family, her blonde hair swept off back and her face red. "They're engaged!" she cried, bounding towards her parents and enveloping a speechless Aunt Fleur in a hug.

"Who's what now?" Ron asked, dipping a piece of toast in his tea and taking a bite.

"Teddy and Vic," Dom gasped, releasing Aunt Fleur and turning to the room at large. "He just-I just saw-it was one of her gifts and he said she took ages to open the others but finally got to it-"

"Dominique!" Vic's voice rang out as she walked into the crowd, slightly flushed and frowning at her sister. "You said you wouldn't tell them until I got here!"

"It's alright." Teddy appeared behind Vic, a wide grin plastered on his face. Vic turned to him and raised an eyebrow, though the corners of her lips twitched upwards. She ran a hand through her hair, a small gem on her fourth finger catching the light.

Everybody moved at once, shouting and laughing so that Rose lost track of who was where. Congratulations flew across the room as everybody hugged Teddy and Vic, stared at the ring, shouted about the impossibility of time and the fact the two of them were old enough to be married.

"Eet eez too much," Aunt Fleur said in a slightly choked voice, wiping a single tear from her cheek. "We are so 'appy for you."

"When's the wedding going to be?" Rose asked, imagining a beautiful hall lit up with candles and her new dress robes twirling across it.

"Not for a bit yet," Teddy said with a laugh, running a hand through his hair. "We're in no rush."

"Well you certainly took your time with the engagement," Dom said with a knowing smile.

"And good for them," Grandma Molly broke in, giving Teddy an appreciative nod. "Taking their time before making such a decision. It's a much better way to do things than rushing into everything without a second thought."

"We're hoping to get married in the next two years," Vic said to the room at large. "Once we're both a bit more settled in our jobs."

"That'll give us plenty of time to plan a wedding," Grandma Molly said sagely, patting Vic on the shoulder.

"Who's getting married?" Fred asked, appearing in the doorway with James and Roxanne, all of them sporting various bruises and abrasions. Behind them, Aunt Ginny, Aunt Angelina and Uncle George stood, along with a rather dazed-looking Louis.

In answer Vic merely held up her hand.

"Blimey," James's eyes grew large as he looked from Vic to Teddy. "You did it, mate?" he asked.

"Yup," Teddy laughed, putting an arm around Vic. "Went perfectly."

"Blimey," James said again, turning to Fred. "They got engaged and we got self-destructing broomsticks. What a Christmas!"

Everybody laughed at that and a chatter broke out through the kitchen, with everybody turning and asking about gifts, chatting about the sweaters, and sipping their tea. Rose glanced once more at Vic and Teddy, both their faces alight, Vic's hand wrapped around Teddy's. At the table, Dom was telling an animated story about running from a mummified cat in Egypt. What a Christmas.

***

It was several hours before the excitement of the morning dissipated, but eventually Rose found herself sitting alone on the floor of the room she and Lily shared, sorting and organizing the gifts she had unwrapped that morning. Lily herself had disappeared several hours earlier, presumably to take a nap, though Rose knew Fred and James had agreed to let her test the self-destructing broomsticks in the shed if she didn't tell a soul. Rose was rather glad for the opportunity to have the room to herself. She flipped languidly through her new runes book before succumbing to temptation and removing the dress robes from their box. She held them against her chest, feeling the soft velvet caress her skin as she twirled in front of the mirror.

"Those are gorgeous." Dominique slipped through the cracked door and Rose nearly lost her balance as she whipped around.

"Oh, it's just you," Rose breathed, relaxing and turning back to her reflection.

"Thought I was your mum?" Dom laughed, crossing the room and perching on the edge of the bed.

"Nah," Rose shook her head. "I was afraid you were Fred or Albus. They'd take the mickey out of me if they saw me like this."

"Never apologize for looking in a mirror," Dom said sagely. "Especially with a pretty set of robes."

Rose giggled and folded the dress robes up again, placing them carefully in the box. She glanced toward Dom. "How is it being home?"

"It's rather nice," Dom said, patting the mattress beside her. Rose went over and sat down. "It's nice to have Grandma Molly's cooking and to see all of you. I hadn't realized how long I'd been gone until I came back."

"We've missed you," Rose murmured.

Dom grinned. "Good, I was a little afraid you'd all forgotten about me. Though, I dunno, it's not quite the same this year without Molly."

"Oh." Rose chewed her lip. "I forgot you weren't here last year."

"Yeah." Dom sighed heavily and glanced sideways at Rose. "Was it as horrid as it sounded?"

Rose shuddered, remembering Aunt Audrey dropping the ginger bread house and Uncle Percy's stony face. "It was awful."

"Well," Dom shifted, "hopefully this year's made up for it, though I'll tell you, it's absolutely mad to think about my sister and Teddy being engaged."

Rose giggled. "It's so romantic."

Dom snorted. "If you like that kind of thing."

"Wouldn't you love to be engaged and in love, though?" Rose asked, staring off at the wall. "Just looking at them you can tell they love each other so much, it's like a book."

"Eh," Dom shrugged. "Maybe someday, but I want to have my fun first. There's still loads of princes in the world that I haven't met."

Rose laughed at that. "I suppose if I had princes to take me on flying carpet rides maybe I'd want to do that instead," she allowed.

"From what I've heard, though, it sounds like you wouldn't mind taking a fly around the quidditch pitch with the Gryffindor keeper, though."

Rose flushed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I really fancy him, Dom," she said, looking up earnestly at her cousin. "I don't think I've ever fancied a boy this much before."

Dom raised her eyebrows. "Circe, I didn't know it was that bad. Have you snogged yet?"

"Er—no—"

"Gone to Hogsmeade? Shared a butterbeer?"

"No," Rose admitted, picking at her nail. "He—we—I don't see him that often. And he doesn't notice me much."

"Well," Dom said, sitting up straighter and flipping her hair over her shoulder. "You've just got to make him notice you then."

Rose watched her dubiously. "How do I do that without looking daft?"

"It's easy," Dom laughed. She got to her feet and picked up her wand from where she had dropped it on the floor. "You just laugh a lot, not too loudly like my mum does, but just a nice little giggle, you know the kind. Ask him for help on school work, talk about things he's interested in, and it never hurts to talk to other blokes."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive," Dom said. "The boys will be flocking to you in no time."

Rose remained unconvinced, thinking privately that the boys of Hogwarts had probably flocked to Dominique for very different reasons that she, Rose, could not hope to replicate.

"And the biggest thing is just to be yourself around him," Dom said after a pause. "Though I know that sounds like a cliche. People can tell when you're being yourself and they like it, that's something I wish I'd known in school."

Rose raised her eyebrows, thinking back to Dominique as she had known her at Hogwarts. "You were always yourself at school."

Dom shrugged, flicking a piece of hair over her shoulder. "With you and the family, yeah, but not with most everyone else." She glanced at Rose, her blue eyes suddenly piercing. "Most people at school didn't want to see the real me."

"What?"

"They just-never mind," Dom said quickly, turning away and getting to her feet. "I shouldn't have said that, it's none of your concern and, anyways, it's so far in the past it doesn't really matter."

Rose chewed her lip. Her mind wandered back to what she had overheard Amalia and Mirabelle say in the lavatory, about there being stories about Dom that had circulated through the Hogwarts gossip mill. "It does matter," she said softly. "People at school can be mean."

Dom watched Rose intently for a few seconds, creases appearing at the corner of her eyes as they raked Rose's face. "Did something happen this year, Rose?" she asked after several seconds.

"How did—" Rose began, then snapped her mouth shut.

Dom sat back down beside her, expression soft. "What happened?"

"I—nothing—well— Herrick— " And then the whole story spilled out of Rose, seeped right through her almost without her consent. Dom listened without comment as Rose recounted the Victory Ball, the rumors, the humiliation.

"He was always a git," she shook her head when Rose finished. "I'm sorry, Rosie."

"It's all done now, for the most part," Rose said. "But it was-it was awful. Everybody thought I was a slag and they kept staring at me-"

"Your friends stayed with you, though?" Dom asked. "They didn't leave you?"

Rose thought back to Lucy and bit her lip. "No," she said after a moment. "No, they were brilliant. Maren and Allie—they were great."

"Good," Dom nodded. "It's good you have them, at least."

"It didn't stop everyone from saying things."

"No, but good school friends are important." Dom looked back at Rose again. "I'll tell you, Rosie, that there were lots of people I was friends with at school that haven't so much as owled since we left. Girls in my classes, boys who asked me to Hogsmeade, all of them wanted to be my friend then and now, nothing." She sighed. "I just have Molly, and she's not even here for Christmas."

"I'm sorry," Rose said, unsure what else to do. She put a hand awkwardly on Dom's shoulder, searching for words. "That's-that's not good."

"I don't want you to feel bad about it, I created this whole problem for myself," Dom shrugged. "I'm just saying, it sounds like you've got good friends and you ought to keep them. I haven't got anyone I'm not related to and sometimes I wish I did."

"Well, we all always love you," Rose said with an earnest smile. "You've got Molly and me and everybody else."

Dom put an arm around her and squeezed. "I know," she said, her voice slightly muffled. "And you lot are pretty brilliant, as far as friends go."

"If we're friends, can you show me how to charm my hair?"

Dom laughed and released Rose. "I'm rubbish at hair charms, but I can show you how to extend your eyelashes."

Rose glanced in the mirror, her eyes lighting up. "Perfect."

The entire family gathered around the magically extended dining table that evening for Christmas dinner. The chatter was continual but slightly strained, as everybody no doubt was remembering the scene that had taken place the year before and felt the absence of all involved.

"Did Percy not want to come, Mum?" Uncle George asked as he carried goblets in from the kitchen.

"He has work to do," Grandma Molly said evenly, following closely behind with the turkey. "He said he would stop by if he had time."

"So we're not seeing him," Uncle George muttered to Rose's dad. "Can't say I'm too upset."

The food was sublime, as it always was. Rose piled her plate high with every dish that sat within arms reach and ate with an enthusiasm that horrified her mother.

"Rose," Hermione admonished from across the table, "please tell me you did not just put an entire roll in your mouth."

"Unghm-"

"And Hugo, don't talk with your mouthful!"

"Face it, Hermione," Ron said, "they're hopeless."

By the time dinner had ended and been followed by two servings of Grandma Molly's trifle, the waistband on Rose's jeans was decidedly uncomfortable. The conversation came to a lull as the adults poured glasses of elf-made wine and the children given butterbeer, and Rose sat back as as Uncle Bill made the mistake of asking about the state of Hogwarts quidditch.

"Gryffindor is flattening everyone," James said, puffing out his chest. "We're going to take the cup this year with almost no competition."

"Oh, that's a load of dung," Albus scoffed. "You got lucky in your match against Ravenclaw-"

"We beat them because of our skill and our excellent team communication-"

"You won because of your seeker," Rose broke in, sitting forward in her seat. "Ravenclaw would have flattened you-"

"There's not another team in the school that is as close-knit and in-sync as Gryffindor-"

"The Ravenclaw team works together brilliantly," Albus said, glaring at James.

Rose raised an eyebrow and leaned toward Albus. "You really think so?"

"Hm?" Albus turned toward her. "Oh, yeah," he shrugged. "Linus and Hera fit in shockingly well with the rest of you, and since you and Scorpius are friends now you've been more communicative on the pitch."

"But that doesn't mean that they work together better than Gryffindor!" James cried, nearly upsetting his glass of wine. "Fred, Rox, come on-"

"He's right," Fred said, "we're unstoppable."

"Undefeated," Roxanne added.

"Fine," Albus huffed, "I can't wait for you to lose to Hufflepuff-"

"Hey," Hugo interjected, scowling over his butterbeer, "we're playing really well-"

"I didn't mean you weren't-"

"We are not going to lose to Hufflepuff-"

"This is excellent wine, Mrs. Weasley" Uncle Harry said loudly, cutting across the raised voices, "would anyone like another glass?"

Several voices chirped as the cousins fell back against their chairs, red-faced. Uncle Harry got up and retrieved the bottle from the kitchen, bewitching it to refill the goblets.

"What are your friends doing for the holidays, James?" Aunt Ginny asked, taking a sip of her drink. "Didn't you say the Aylmers were planning on going to South Africa?"

"Yeah," James replied, sitting up. "Zeno said it's been brilliant. And Alec's in Brighton with his grandmother. By the way, Rosie," he said off-handedly, "he said to tell you Happy Christmas."

Rose felt her face flame as all eyes turned to her. She feigned composure as best she could, though her face undoubtedly gave her away. "Tell him thank you," she squeaked, attempting to hide behind her butterbeer."

"Now why is your friend sending messages for Rose?" Ron asked from further down the table, his own face rather red.

"I dunno." James shrugged, then caught sight of Rose's face. He shifted, his mouth spreading into an impish grin as his hazel eyes lit up. "What do you think, Rose?"

Rose ground her teeth and imagined hexing her cousin then and there.

"They know each other from quidditch," Dom said, sending a quelling look in James's direction. "It's not like the Vance bloke—"

"Who the bloody hell is Vance?!"

"Ugh," Rose groaned, her face growing even warmer as she sank down in her chair. Every pair of eyes now rested on her, all of them laughing, and Rose thought she would rather like to die right then.

"Rosie," her father said slowly, "who is Vance?"

"Nobody," Rose muttered. "Don't worry about it."

"Well, I'd like to know if there are boys-"

"Ron, hush," Hermione hissed.

"Teddy, why don't you tell us the proposal story again," Aunt Ginny said quickly, turning to him and Victoire. "I don't think I caught all of it earlier."

Rose sat through the story of Teddy buying the ring and misplacing it, finding it weeks later and carrying it in his shoe for fear of losing it again before wrapping it and hiding it in his office, with her face smoldering. She caught her mother's eye across the table and detected a spark of laughter in it, promptly sinking back down into her seat and remaining there until the conversation broke up.

As she wandered upstairs an hour later, Dom came up behind her. "Sorry," she whispered in Rose's ear. "I thought he knew."

"It's okay," Rose sighed. "I don't even want to know what he's going to say about it tomorrow, though."

"If it makes you feel better," Dom said as they climbed up to the third floor, "my dad once caught Vic and Teddy snogging and didn't know what to do so he accidentally set the curtains on fire."

Rose snorted. "That's almost as terrible as what just happened."

"Oh, it was much worse," Dom said solemnly. "Mum nearly murdered him when she saw the damage. Poor Teddy thought she was cursing him in French through all of dinner."

Laughter bubbled up in Rose's throat and she let it out. "That is pretty awful," she choked out.

"And now they're getting married," Dom continued, waggling her eyebrows. They reached the landing with the door to Rose's room and stopped. "So, you see, anything's possible."

Rose stepped toward her room and put her hand on the doorknob. "If Alec Davies and I end up getting married, then, you'll have this story to tell."

"Exactly," Dom giggled, "and imagine how funny it will be at Christmas twenty years from now."

"As funny as the story of Albus trying to kiss the gnome?"

"Even funnier."

"Brilliant," Rose smiled and paused, watching Dom. "I'm glad you came home for holidays."

Dom nodded, her eyes wandering around the landing. She brushed her hair back and took a breath. "Me too."

Rose opened the door to her room and turned away. "Happy christmas, Dom."

"Happy christmas, Rose."

***

The next few days passed without event. The day after Boxing Day, Rose and her family left the Burrow and went back to their own house for the last week of holiday. Rose breathed a sigh of relief when she stumbled out of the fireplace. It was always lovely to go to the Burrow and see everybody, but it was just as lovely to come home and have real privacy and a room to herself for a week.

Rose sat in her bedroom that evening flipping languidly through a copy of Witch Weekly Allie had sent. The how-to column that week held a series of tips and tricks for managing curly hair, and Rose trailed her finger down the printed list of serums and charms that promised to "de-tangle, de-frizz, and de-fang even the worst case of devil's snare head." Some of the advertised products looked frankly frightening, but two of the charms seemed promising, and Rose made a mental note to ask Allie to help her cast them when they were back at school. She smiled at the image of herself which flashed through her mind, one in which her hair fell down her back in sleek sheets like Dom's, reflecting the candlelight in its glossy sheen.

A sharp knock sounded on the door, and Rose was pulled out of her reverie. "Come in," she called absently as she flipped the page.

Her mother stepped slowly into the room, one hand still on the doorknob. "What have you been doing in here so quietly all evening?"

Rose rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder. "Just reading."

"I see." Her mother crossed the room and leaned over Rose's shoulder, the ends of her hair tickling Rose's cheek. "I didn't think you still read Witch Weekly."

"I don't usually." Rose flipped the magazine shut and sat up, turning to face her mum. "But this issue has loads of charms and potions you can use to make curly hair prettier."

"Rosie," Hermione groaned as she sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through her own wild, curly hair, "I've told you, you don't need potions or charms. Your hair is beautiful just the way it is."

"You have to say that," Rose shook her head. "And you said yourself you use Sleekeazy's whenever you have to go in for a hearing."

"Yes, but that's different-"

"No, you use a potion on your hair when you're seeing important people and every day at school I'm seeing important people so really—"

"I don't think Lucy and Allie and Maren care much about your hair, Rose."

Rose huffed. "Well they're not the ones I'm trying to impress."

"Oh, I see." A small smile had appeared on her mother's lips, much to Rose's annoyance. "It's probably more for that Vance boy, isn't it? Or Alec Davies?"

Rose flushed and hurriedly turned away. "I'm going to kill James," she grumbled.

Hermione laughed and put an arm around Rose's shoulder. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm only teasing. "Though," Hermione drew back slightly, her face growing more serious, "I do want to talk to you about something that came up the other night."

"I don't have a boyfriend," Rose blurted out, her eyes going wide. "They were only taking the mick so you don't have to-I know James talked a lot, but I promise-we don't have to-"

"Calm down," her mother said, putting a hand on Rose's arm. "I'm not here to talk about that. Though it sounds like I might have to soon—"

"Please, no."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You're so like your father sometimes. No, I wanted to talk to you about Scorpius Malfoy."

"What?" Rose blinked, taken aback. "Why?"

Her mother fixed her with an inquisitive, assessing look. "Albus said you two were getting along more."

Rose frowned. "I mean, I suppose. We're not friends, but I have to see him almost every day."

Hermione tilted her head to the side, her gaze still on Rose. "You're prefects together, aren't you? And teammates?"

"Er, yeah, but I don't see why we have to talk about that."

Finally, Rose's mother looked away from her. She dropped her gaze to her fingers, putting on an air of disinterest even Rose saw through. "It sounds like he's a very nice boy."

Rose shrugged. "He's fine."

"Aunt Audrey said that he and Lucy are quite good friends now, too."

"Yeah." Rose bit her lip. "They are."

Hermione peered up at her, head still bent. "And it sounds like you don't dislike him quite as strongly as you used to."

"Mum," Rose said impatiently, "why do we have to talk about him? I told you, we're not friends."

Her mother sighed and leaned back, the lines on her face deepening. "There are some things that are—that I think you ought to know."

Rose raised her eyebrows, then frowned. "About Scorpius?"

"About the Malfoys."

"Oh." Rose bit her lip again and looked down at her hands.

"I just—" Hermione sat up and ran a hand through her hair. The strands sprang back into their chaotic disorder, just as Rose's always did. "There are some things—that they did—that I want you to hear from me and not from anybody else."

"Things they did to you?" Rose whispered, her voice feeble.

Hermione's eyes landed on Rose's, the corners crinkling the slightest bit. She put an arm around Rose's shoulder. "I want you to always remember, Rosie," she said softly, "that the Malfoys are not bad people. At least," she paused, "at least Scorpius and his father aren't. I want you to understand that, no matter what anybody else, even your father or uncles or classmates, says."

"I know Mr. Malfoy was a death eater," Rose said, turning to look up at her mother. "Al told me a few years ago."

Her mother nodded. "Yes, I thought you did. I can't imagine how you wouldn't, at this point. And I'm sure you've heard the stories about Mr. Malfoy at school.

Rose nodded, thinking back to the conversation she had had with Uncle Harry several years ago, in the kitchen of the Burrow. "Yes."

"I don't think you need to hear all those stories," Hermione said. "They don't matter quite so much now. There's just one—one I think you need to hear."

"Okay," Rose breathed, leaning her head against her mother's collarbone.

Hermione's arm tightened around Rose. "You remember a few years ago when you heard Dad's nightmare?"

Rose nodded against her mother's chest. She doubted she would ever forget her father's strangled screams.

"Do you know what exactly the nightmare was of?"

"No."

"Right." Hermione took a deep breath, shifting slightly. "Well, when we were with Uncle Harry, that year we were hunting horcruxes, the three of us were picked up by a group of snatchers."

"What's a snatcher?" Rose broke in.

"They were people during the war who captured muggle-borns or sympathizers who were on the run and turned them in for money," Hermione answered.

Rose breathed in. "That's horrible."

"That was the war, sweetheart. Just another terrible part of it. But one evening we were careless with our protective charms and two of them found us and recognized us— recognized me and then guessed who your dad and Uncle Harry might be. So they brought us to the house of a death eater. And there they— "

Hermione's voice broke slightly. Rose looked up and held her breath as she saw her mother squeeze her eyes shut, shake her head.

"They wanted information about what we had found, but we wouldn't—couldn't—give it to them and so they—they tortured us. Tortured me. And locked Dad and Uncle Harry in the cellar so they couldn't help."

Rose swallowed heavily, her chest contracting as she felt her stoic, capable mother take a shaky breath. She felt the shivers reverberate through her ribs, rattling her to her very core.

"And it happened-it was in Malfoy Manor. Scorpius's father was there—he saw everything–- and Lucius and Narcissa—wanted to call Voldemort—Bellatrix Lestrange—you know of her?"

Rose gave a quick, jerky nod.

"She was Draco's aunt," Hermione continued, "and she—it was her—she was the one who did it— who tortured me—with a knife and a wand."

Rose jerked back from her mother, her eyes wide as she stared. "It was his family?" she whispered, "The Malfoys did that to you?"

Her mother gave a short nod. "There were others there, but, yes. In their home."

Rose was silent for several seconds, biting the inside of her cheek and trying to choke down the horrible lump that filled her throat. Finally, her voice stronger, she burst out, "But— they— they should be in prison! Why didn't anything happen? Why aren't they in Azkaban now?"

"Rose, it doesn't always work like that," Hermione murmured, running a hand through Rose's hair. "Sometimes it's not worth it-all you can do is try your best to pick yourself up and move on."

"But Scorpius's grandfather— the one who was really a death eater— didn't anything happen to him?"

"He was tried before the Wizengamot after the war ended, just like the others" Hermione said evenly. "And he avoided Azkaban by providing evidence against other death eaters."

"So he just got to go?" Rose demanded, sitting up straighter and staring at her mother. "Just because he gave other people's names?"

"Not exactly, sweetheart." Hermione gave her a small, close-lipped smile. "He was closely watched all the way up until his death and wasn't allowed to leave the country without ministry permission. But his punishment for the most part came from outside of the ministry. The family lost their reputation. From what I've heard, it sounds like it nearly destroyed Lucius."

"Oh." Rose paused and leaned back against her mother. "And what about Draco-Mr. Malfoy?" she asked. "What happened to him?"

"He—" Hermione paused, and Rose could picture her brow furrowing as she undoubtedly chose her words carefully. "He wasn't tried. He was just a child, like the rest of us, and I think anyone could see how broken he was by the end of it. I don't think anybody believed he posed much of a threat."

Rose nodded slowly. "Uncle Harry said he changed."

"I don't know I'd say that much," Hermione said cautiously. "Uncle Harry can be a little idealistic sometimes. But, I will say, Rose, I do believe Draco learned from the war. He did some terrible things before and during it, but I think we all saw that he did them out of fear. And when it came to it-Rose, when we were taken to Malfoy Manor, his parents and aunt wanted him to identify the three of us-to confirm we were who they thought we were-and he didn't do it. It was a small act-I really don't know how much it helped-but he did it and he didn't have to."

"But he saw you get tortured," Rose said softly. "In his house—by his family-"

"I know," Hermione whispered.

"And they—they still live there," Rose continued, "Scorpius lives in that house."

"That's true," her mother said. "But, Rose," she looked down and smoothed the hair back from Rose's forehead, "I didn't tell you this to make you hate the Malfoys. I don't want you to go back to school believing Scorpius's father is evil or that their family is somehow inherently flawed."

"I just don't know how anybody could be that cruel." Rose shook her head.

"What Lucius and Bellatrix did to me and countless others was nothing short of cruel," Hermione said. "But they're both dead now. And the people who are alive, the ones who decide what the family does and what it celebrates, they're not like that."

"Mhm," Rose murmured noncommittally, biting her lip.

"And the reason I told you this is so that you could hear the story from me," her mother continued. "I didn't want you to hear it from someone else who might have tried to use it to make you believe or do things that weren't right. And I thought-I thought you had a right to know the truth. You're old enough now you can know these things. Especially if, like you said, you're going to be seeing more of Scorpius."

"Right." Rose exhaled. Her mind felt as though it had absorbed all the new information it could hold for the time. Her temples ached dully and her chest remained tight.

"I want you to promise me you won't hold this against Scorpius personally, though," Hermione said. "I think you of all people should understand why it's wrong to hold him responsible for what his family members did during the war."

Rose frowned. "That's not—"

"Isn't it?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Rose sat back. She didn't know what to think, exactly, in that moment. Scorpius seemed very far away, part of a different life, a different world. The sound of her father's nightmarish screams came back to Rose's mind, and she pictured her mother making the same sounds as an older man with a pale, pointed face and white-blond hair sneered and pointed his wand. She imagined the cold and sprawling mansion tucked somewhere far away from muggle eyes, its floorboards soaked in blood and its walls reverberating with never-ending screams. She pictured her parents, their faces contorted in pain and fear, bodies crumpled, voices faded.

Even after her mother kissed the top of her head and said goodnight, closing the door behind her, the images stayed in Rose's mind. She played them over and over, watched them from every angle, replayed their sounds. She had always known that her parents had witnessed and endured cruelty first-hand during the war, but those experiences had been vague and abstract, only ever distantly alluded to.

Now it seemed obvious. Of course her mother had been tortured; she was muggle-born, after all. Of course Bellatrix Lestrange had been the one to do it, hadn't James told Rose years ago that Bellatrix Lestrange had been one of Voldemort's most evil supporters and especially hated Hermione? And of course it had been at Malfoy Manor. It all made sense.

And yet, when Scorpius Malfoy's pale, shy face appeared in her mind's eye, Rose could not reconcile the acts of evil her mother had just relayed with this quiet boy who read Shakespeare in the corridor, no matter how exasperating he could be.

But then the image of her mother screaming filled her mind once more.