Chapter 10
January days fluttered by like flakes of snow in the wind, and Rose found the winter term moving at an alarming speed. The Hogwarts professors seemed to have all come to some agreement to ceaselessly remind the fifth years about their upcoming O.W.L.s, and the resulting work load and pressure had already begun to affect some. Quentin Collingwood, the Hufflepuff prefect, had reportedly visited the infirmary after accidentally putting two drops of extra-strength calming syrup in his tea instead of three. Meanwhile Lucy Weasley was hardly ever seen without a textbook or pamphlet in her hand, muttering to herself and tugging at her ponytail as she scribbled notes in margins.
For Rose, the impending examinations felt more like an inconvenience, an annoying errand to be completed before the summer holidays could be enjoyed. But by the end of January, the workload had grown to new heights which troubled even Rose. To her indignation, she found herself spending a Saturday afternoon perched in the library with Maren, Allie, and Scorpius, the table in front of her strewn with books and rolls of parchment, and her ink-stained hands evidence of a burdensome transfiguration essay.
"This is absolute madness," Rose muttered, crossing out yet another sentence on how Gamp's laws influence the wand movement behind vanishment of inanimate objects. "When are we actually going to need to know any of this?"
"When we need to vanish things we don't like," Maren replied, glancing down at her own roll of parchment and sighing. "Though I don't quite know why Lyncroft insists we know all about these laws. I'd be quite happy just learning the wand movement and moving on."
"You need the laws in order to extrapolate the spell," Scorpius murmured, his gaze not looking up from One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.
"I think I'd rather eat a flobberworm than extrapolate anything," Maren grumbled, shuffling her parchment. "And I'm going to kill Al and Nathan for skipping out on us today."
"They had practice," Allie reminded her. "I'm sure they're tired."
"Yeah, and I'm sure Lucy's tired from watching-"
"Hey," Rose cut in, smirking at Maren, "don't act like you don't love having people watch our practices."
Maren rolled her eyes. "Yes, but I don't drag a perfectly innocent friend down there who has no interest in the game and who could otherwise be helping others with their impossible homework."
Rose sighed and looked back at her essay, which seemed to contain more cross-outs than actual words at this point. "I don't even want to hear you complaining right now," she said, jabbing a quill at Maren. "At least the two of you get to leave soon."
Maren wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, for Winkle's mandatory chasers-only practice. Lucky us."
"Still," Rose groaned, sinking lower in her seat. "I'd rather do drills for two hours than deal with this," she waved her hand towards the transfiguration book. "I don't even see how this is O.W.L. level and not N.E.W.T. I don't remember Dom or anyone saying anything about learning this."
"Maybe Lyncroft just likes to torture us," Maren shrugged.
Rose scratched out a new sentence and turned back to her textbook. She flipped through the pages, glanced back at her essay, and flipped again in a huff. "Does anyone remember what page that note was on that had the case study about the wizard in Plymouth who vanished his brother's portrait?"
"Two eighty-six," Scorpius replied.
Rose looked up, though Scorpius kept his eyes studiously on the herbology book, the tip of his index finger tracing the words as he read. Rose turned back to transfiguration, flipped to the page, and scanned for the study which explained the laws which determined whether a portrait was considered animate or inanimate.
"Right, found it. Um—thanks."
Somewhere in the last few weeks Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy had become, if not friends, then cordial acquaintances. They still rarely interacted directly with each other, and never touched or sat next to one another, but a certain civility had blossomed in their relationship which had been conspicuously absent before. When Scorpius asked Rose to pass the potatoes at dinner now she did so without a grimace, and when she forgot whether Winkle had set quidditch practice for six or seven o'clock Scorpius reminded her without even a trace of condescension.
While she had no idea how Scorpius felt about this new development, Rose was very pleased with herself. For once she had managed not to completely muck up an interaction with Scorpius, and to have a complete conversation with him, about their families, no less, without either one of them walking away enraged. She held her head a bit higher in the corridors, and spent meals looking towards Lucy, thinking maybe she could patch things up with her cousin after all.
Maybe after she finished this wretched essay she would find Lucy and ask if she wanted to spend the evening in the common room playing snap.
"Say," Allie chirped, suddenly looking up from her runes. "I almost forgot, Rose have you spoken to your cousin Fred today?"
"Fred" Rose asked, scribbling a paragraph on Sir Leopold Harlequin and what his successful vanishment of a portrait meant for transfiguration theory. "No, why?"
"Oh, I was just wondering if he was feeling alright," Allie replied. "I heard some girls talking in the loo this morning and apparently the girl he's been going out with-"
"Amalia," Rose supplied.
Allie nodded and blew on her fingernails so that the tiny painted birds fluttered their wings. "Yes, were they going out?"
Rose shrugged and shook her head, trying to force out the memories of the horribly awkward evening when she and Scorpius had caught them snogging. "I dunno."
"Well," Allie turned and gave Rose a grimace. "Apparently she's going to Hogsmeade next weekend with the head boy. And from what those girls were saying, it sounds like she didn't tell Fred."
Rose's mouth opened for a moment, and then closed. "Ugh-" she finally sputtered, frowning. "That horrible cow!"
"Rose!" Allie hissed, her eyes going wide as she looked fervently over her shoulder. Thankfully, no Madam Pince descended on her. "Don't be so rude!"
"How could she do that, though?" Rose insisted. "It seemed like Fred fancied her. How could she do that? They were snogging!"
"Shush," Allie pleaded, shaking her head. "Someone might hear you."
"I don't care," Rose said hotly, shaking hair from her face. "Why would she ditch Fred like that? And for Booker Wechsler of all people?"
"Careful, Weasley," Scorpius said from across the table. "Talking about the head boy like that may not end well."
"Hmph," Rose crossed her arms and scowled. "I hope both of them get attacked by Peeves tonight."
"Maybe you can make a suggestion to him," Maren said, flipping the page in her book. "D'you think he has a suggestion box in the castle like some of the muggle hotels do?"
Rose snorted and shook her head. "Maybe we can suggest a suggestion box? It might make his job easier if he doesn't have to spend so much time finding targets."
"Exactly," Maren nodded. "We'd be doing him a favor, really."
"You two are horrible," Allie rolled her eyes from her seat.
"We're just looking for ways to improve the castle," Maren said innocently. "And, really, I'm doing this for Rosie."
Rose shot Maren a dirty look. "And why's that?"
"Well," Maren continued with mock casualty, "if Peeves if busy terrorizing Wechsler and Amalia, that leaves the corridors empty for you to find Davies and drag him into some cozy broom cupboard-"
"Maren!" Rose shrieked, as Allie dissolved into giggles. Now it was Rose's turn to look furiously over her shoulder to ensure nobody sat near enough to have heard.
"Someone could have heard you," Rose hissed, her cheeks burning as she glared at her friend.
"Relax," Maren waved a hand airily and grinned. "It's not as though it's a big secret, is it? You practically stalk him."
"I don't stalk him-"
"With no Peeves around it would be even easier to sneak into a nice cupboard and rip into-"
"Do shut up," Rose retorted, her face burning as she turned back to her essay. Across the table she saw Scorpius raise an eyebrow and flip the page of his herbology textbook. "That's absolutely ridiculous."
"Are you saying you wouldn't like to join Davies in a broom cupboard?" Allie asked, her eyes widening in a look of innocence betrayed by her twitching lip.
Rose huffed and shook her head. "I hate you both."
"You know you could make all of this stop and just ask him to go to Hogsmeade with you," Maren said.
"Are you mad?" Rose cried, staring at her friend. "The girls aren't supposed to be the ones asking the boys to the village! I'd look ridiculous."
"Weasley, you're so old fashioned." Maren shook her head. "There's not one book of yours where the girl goes and asks out the bloke?"
Rose shook her head and looked down at the table. "No," she murmured, her red curls swinging over her shoulder. "In Jane Austen the story always ends with the man asking the woman to marry him."
Maren snorted. "So you're telling me you want Davies to walk up to you before charms one day and propose to you?"
Rose blanched, her cheeks growing even warmer as she whipped back towards her friend. "No! I—"
Maren raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "I'm just saying," she shrugged and brushed her braided hair over her shoulder, "now's a perfect chance to spend some time with him. You could even invite the whole group. It'd make it more fun, even if we would have to put up with James all day then."
"Hm." Rose sat back and bit her lip.
Maren cocked an eyebrow. "Not such a terrible idea, is it now?"
Rose felt her flush deepened. "I can't ask him to Hogsmeade," she said. "I just-I can't. It'd be too embarrassing."
"Suit yourself," Maren shrugged. "Continue admiring him from afar."
Across the table, Scorpius looked down at his watch and closed his book with a faint thud. "Thomas, we'd best be going. It's quarter to and I don't fancy being late for Winkle today."
Maren scowled and set down her quill. "I still can't believe he's making us practice like this on a Saturday."
"We still haven't gotten that feint pass worked out," Scorpius said as he shuffled his parchment into a neat pile, using the pad of his index finger to align the edges. "We'll need to have all our maneuvers ready before the Slytherin match."
"I know, I know," Maren grumbled, shoving her inkpot and quill into her bag.
"Have fun," Rose trilled, giving Maren a sickening smile.
Maren made a face and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Weasley."
"I'll be thinking about you flying out there in the cold and the snow while I'm sitting here, next to the fire—"
"Sod off," Maren laughed. "Just wait until Winkle has you practice on a Saturday."
"Ready?" Scorpius asked, standing up and adjusting his jumper.
Maren simply groaned in response, eliciting a laugh from Rose and an eye roll from Scorpius.
As the two Ravenclaw chasers walked out of the library, Rose turned back to her transfiguration essay.
"Um, Rose?" Allie asked, tilting her head to the side.
"Hm?" Rose glanced up.
"Now Maren's gone, do you think you could help me with this translation?" Allie gestured to the parchment in front of her, which bore nearly as many crossed-out sentences as Rose's transfiguration essay.
"Of course," Rose said, shoving aside her transfiguration book without a second thought. It was a relief to have an excuse to work with runes for a while, even if the particular translation Allie was stuck on was a rather dull one. "What section's giving you trouble?"
"I think I've got the first part," Allie said, sliding the parchment between them so Rose could read it. "But then here, when it changes from past tense to future, is where I get confused."
They passed nearly an hour on runes, Rose waxing on about the relationship between past and present within the runes, how it's understood and represented differently than in English. Allie scribbled down the notes, her eyes occasionally wandering around the library.
"See what I mean?" Rose said, pointing to the last sentence of Allie's translation. "It all comes together in the end, you just have to decide which direction you want the middle to take to get there."
"Mhm," Allie nodded, her eyebrows still furrowed as she read over the words on the parchment. "It makes a bit more sense now."
As Allie edited her translation, Rose sat back in her seat, eyes scanning the cavernous library as she reveled in the joy of solving a dense translation.
"I wish there were a job after school that was just translating runes," Rose murmured, half to herself. "That'd be what I want to do."
"You might be able to find something like that," Allie replied, still scribbling notes for herself. "You could work at Gringotts like Dom."
"Nah," Rose shook her head. "They require arithmancy for nearly everything." She chewed her lip and wrapped a piece of hair around her index finger. The library sprawled around them, mostly empty. To their left, a bookshelf loomed over them, its shelves packed perilously full with volumes in crumbling leather. A handful of tables seated twosomes and threesomes, most of them older students like Rose and Allie trying not to drown under their sea of work.
Rose followed the line of the shelves, wondering vaguely what information and stories each book contained, if anyone alive knew the contents of each and every one.
"They still might just need translators or scribes," Allie said. "You never know."
"Yeah." Rose watched a Hufflepuff seventh year slump over his textbook, driven to the brink by some unknown essay or homework question. "I'm just not—oh." She stopped suddenly, her mouth snapping closed.
Theo Vance and Helena Barbaruff sat a small table in the corner, squeezed into a single chair, one of his hands grasping her hip and her cheek leaned against the side of his head. It looked like Helena's mouth was moving, that they were whispering to each other, sequestered in their little corner, oblivious to all others.
"What?" Allie looked up, her gaze following Rose's. Realization dawned quickly on her features. "Oh, Rose." Allie reached across the table and grasped Rose's wrist. "Don't worry about them. They don't matter much to you, now, do they?"
Rose swallowed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, driving her eyes back to the table in front of her. "No," she said softly. "I suppose they don't."
Allie nodded and returned to her parchment.
Rose stared at the table, chewing the inside of her cheek and attempting to swallow the strange cocktail of emotions that had bubbled up unbidden in her chest. It was silly to still get upset about a boy she hadn't even gone out with, she reminded herself sternly.
And anyways, hadn't he been completely willing to do that with Rose herself, to sit in the library all wrapped up where anyone could see? The only reason they hadn't done so was because Rose hadn't allowed it. She had no right to be angry now.
But it did make her chest pinch just a bit to see Theo wrapped so closely around Helena. It didn't seem fair, was all. It wasn't fair that he got to go to the ball with Helena and then spend all year snogging her around the castle, when Rose had gotten ditched by Gabriel Herrick and now could barely talk to the boy she fancied.
The question knocked against her brain, not for the first time, but with more fervor than usual, of whether or not Theo had planned to go out with Helena after the ball from the moment he'd asked her.
Rose glanced at Allie, who had put away her parchment and was now rummaging for a new quill.
She couldn't even say she was angry, which made things worse. Nor did she want to be angry. No, she wanted to be cool and calm, indifferent to her old snogging partner and his new girlfriend. Unbothered about boys and what they thought of her, like Dom was.
Yet the feeling wiggled and burrowed into her chest. Not anger. Not even sadness. Some strange combination of the two that Rose could not name, or even properly explain away. A nagging disappointment at the fact Theo and Helena were living out a romantic fantasy, as were Lucy and Nathan, and as had Allie and Scorpius for a time, in their own strange, gross way. And Rose felt a keen prick of loneliness, an acute fear for the first time that she might never get to live out those fantasies she kept tucked in the back of her mind. She may be condemned to only knowing romance through reading her treasured books.
Rose brought a hand to her nose and traced its edge gingerly; she couldn't feel the freckles, of course, but she knew they were there. She looked down at her legs, short and muscular as they were, very different from Dom's long, willowy limbs. Maybe that was part of the reason why the boys she fancied never seemed to return the sentiment, or else seemed to quickly find other girls they fancied more. Maybe it was her short, muscular legs. Or her nose full of freckles. Or her wild, unruly hair that was almost bigger than she was. Or maybe it was the fact that she was Rose Weasley, and her family was famous, and she always seemed to say the wrong thing when it counted.
Rose shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. She didn't even particularly miss Theo himself, for Merlin's sake, she scolded herself. She exhaled heavily and straightened in her seat in an attempt to wrest control of herself. It was ridiculous to feel this way now, months after they had last spent an evening snogging, since the Victory Ball and all that had come of it.
But now he had someone who was more than a snogging partner, and Rose was spending her day finishing Transfiguration homework and daydreaming about Alec Davies talking to her for more than thirty seconds.
It would be nice, she thought, to find someone not just to snog in a broom closet but to properly talk to. Someone other than her family who would spend meals and weekends with her, who wanted to talk to her about ancient runes and her muggle books, who liked her enough to spend a Saturday afternoon crammed into a small armchair with her.
Rose shook her head and reached for her copy of Intermediate Transfiguration. She closed the book and gathered her parchment, shoving it into her bag.
"Done for the day?" Allie asked.
Rose nodded. "I'm done. Though I can help with more translations if you want."
"No," Allie shook her head. "That was the only one I had to finish today. Thanks again, though." She gave Rose a small smile. "I really don't know what I'd do in that class without you."
Rose shrugged and suppressed a smile, closing up her book bag. "It's no problem, really. I like runes."
"I know, but still." Allie shook her head as she began to gather up her things. "I don't know if you realize just how good you are with them."
"They're all just stories," Rose said mildly, though her chest felt as though it were expanding, absorbing some of Allie's joy and melting away the lingering pangs. "And I love stories." She slung her bag over her shoulder and stood, suddenly grinning. "Hey, what do you say we go find Al and Nathan and make them play a game of snap?"
Allie gingerly closed her own bag and brushed a piece of hair from her forehead. "As long as we're back in the common room in time for me to read my magazine. There's an article about a new exfoliation charm I wanted to read."
"Of course," Rose nodded. "Are we ready to go then?"
"Ready."
***
The next two weeks passed by quickly. Professor Scribner assigned them four new translations to complete, with which Rose spent an entire evening helping Allie. Henry Winkle added four new practices to the Ravenclaw team schedule, which nearly led to a coup headed by Maren and did lead to Linus Fleming visiting the infirmary when an over-powered warming charm singed his left hand. By the Thursday before Hogsmeade, Rose was exhausted, overwhelmed with school work, and wholly ready for a visit to the village.
The Valentine's Day Hogsmeade trip had come together fortuitously for Rose and her friends. Lucy confirmed that she and Nathan had made special plans to visit Madam Puddifoot's, much to nearly everyone else's relief. Fred Weasley, for his part, insisted he was not too cut up about Amalia Villanueva going to the village with Booker Wechsler, as he hadn't been sure he was up for a Valentine's Day visit anyways. He was pretty sure he was allergic to Madam Puddifoot's, he told Maren and Rose, as the one time he had gone there with a girl he'd broken out in hives.
Rose wasn't convinced that Fred hadn't simply brought a Skiving Snackbox, but didn't ask further questions. She was simply glad he wasn't upset over a gossiping grindylow of a girl. Her relief had nothing to do with the fact that Fred and all his friends were now planning to spend the day in the village with Rose and her friends, or the fact that last she heard Alec Davies was planning on accompanying them.
Yes, Rose Weasley was going to Hogsmeade with Alec Davies for Valentine's Day. The fact that roughly six other people were going to be there as well was inconsequential.
Rose spent the days leading up the weekend in a daze, lost in various daydreams set in and around Hogsmeade. In one, she lost her mittens and Alec Davies stops with her on a side street to lend her his, their hands joining and a jolt of electricity shooting through them, their eyes meeting as they suddenly understand they are made for each other. In another, they discover a secret trap door in Honeydukes and decide to explore it together, only to end up snogging.
Rose was in the middle of one such daydream during her patrol shift Thursday evening. Just when Davies was about to take his shirt off in order to retrieve a jar of fizzing whizbees from the top shelf of the Honeydukes cellar, a stray shoelace found its way under Rose's trainer, and the floor jumped up to meet her face.
"Oof, shite-" she grunted as her knees smacked into the floor, her hands coming up to break her fall and spare her face from the stone.
"Weasley?" Scorpius approached her cautiously from the side, eyebrows furrowed. "What happened?"
"Tripped," Rose said to the floor, pushing herself up to a kneeling position and clambering awkwardly to her feet. She brushed her hair out of her face, hoping her cheeks weren't too red. "Shoelace came undone."
Scorpius didn't respond, simply nodded and leaned back on his heels as Rose bent to re-tie the offending shoelace.
With both shoelaces tied and secured, they resumed their patrol. Rose wound a piece of hair around her finger and tried to remember where she had been in the fantasy. They'd been in Honeydukes, the sweets were on the top shelf-"
"Weasley?"
Rose turned, slightly startled, her head swiveling around to survey the corridor. "What? Did I miss something?"
"Er, no." Scorpius continued walking beside her, his hands in his pocket and his prefect's badge glinting in the candlelight. "I actually—I had a question I wanted to ask you."
Rose frowned slightly, arms crossing over her chest. She and Scorpius had been more cordial since their conversation two weeks ago regarding Rose's mother and Malfoy Manor, but their patrols had since remained mostly silent. It seemed to be easier for both of them to only speak when there was a rule-breaker in need of apprehending, or else one or more friends between them to act as a buffer. Open conversation still seemed like a tall order, at least to Rose. There existed simply too many landmines. One false step from either of them could undo all the recent progress and send them back to despising one another. Rose had managed to get through the last tricky conversation relatively unscathed, but there was no telling what question or observation would hit on some unseen wound and ruin everything.
"If you don't want to talk—" Scorpius murmured.
Rose shook her head and turned to face him. "Er—no, sorry. I didn't— I mean— yeah, go ahead. What do you want to ask?"
Scorpius peered at her, his silver eyes flitting over her face for just a moment before turning back to the stone floor. "Have your parents ever mentioned a Requirement Room to you?"
Rose frowned for a minute and then shook her head. "No, I don't think so." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why?"
Scorpius shrugged, his hands deep in his pockets. "Matthew Corner mentioned something about it before holidays. Apparently his dad told him about some room on the seventh floor that can turn into anything you want."
"Wow." Rose swung to look at Scorpius, her eyes widening involuntarily. "That sounds incredible."
"Yeah, well," they turned the corner and Scorpius paused so Rose could catch up to him. "I asked my mum and dad about it over Christmas and they— my dad, really— were strange when they answered."
"Strange how?"
Scorpius paused, pulling his hands out of his pockets and flexing his fingers against his leg. "He said of course there isn't a requirement room, and it was silly to think so. Just the way he said it, though, the way his face looked. It— I don't know."
Rose inspected her fingernails and chewed the inside of her cheek. She wasn't sure, but she felt she knew exactly what Scorpius meant. "It seemed like he wasn't telling you something?"
Scorpius nodded. "Yeah. I was going to just leave it, but I just— I thought if anyone— I didn't know if you knew anything-"
"No," Rose shook her head. She turned to look at him and shrugged. "At least, I don't think my parents have ever mentioned a room like that to me."
"Alright," Scorpius cracked a knuckle. "Well, thank you, then, I guess."
"Mhm."
They walked in silence again, and Rose picked at a hangnail on her thumb. Beside her, Scorpius had slowed so he stayed next to her, his hands back in his pockets.
Rose glanced at him. "Malfoy?"
"Yes, Weasley?"
Rose swallowed, irritated as she felt her cheeks flush. "I—why don't you just ask Al about that room?"
Scorpius paused. Out of the corner of her eye, Rose saw his hands burrow further in his pockets. He shrugged. "Al doesn't like it when people ask him about his parents."
Rose tilted her head to the side. "He's always talked about his parents to me."
Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, Weasley, in case you hadn't noticed, you two are related."
"Right." Rose looked down at her shoes, her cheeks positively burning now. Leave it to Scorpius Malfoy to take a nice conversation and make her feel like an idiot. She crossed her arms and bit out defensively, "I was just asking a question. I've never had a problem talking to Al about Uncle Harry."
Scorpius didn't say anything, but his gaze stayed on her slightly longer this time, his eyes narrowing and head tilting ever so slightly as he studied her.
"You don't realize how amazing your family is," he said finally.
Rose stopped, stung. "Of course I realize my family's great," she said hotly. "I love them, they're the best. They're war heroes. My mum's one of the smartest people in the world and my dad—"
"No," Scorpius interjected, putting a hand up as he stopped beside her. "No, that's not what I meant. I—" he paused and ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be impolite. I just meant … I don't know … it doesn't seem like you realize how unusually gifted and powerful your family is. Or how that can make it difficult for some people."
Rose shrugged, dropping her eyes to the floor. She bit her lip, thinking of her mother, her stories about the ministry, and also of her father's screams in the night. "I mean, they're my family," she said. She glanced up, saw Scorpius through her eyelashes, standing next to her, watching. "Just Mum and Dad and Uncle Harry. I'm sure you feel the same way sometimes, too, Malfoy."
Scorpius gave a tight smile, his hands returning to his pocket. "Nobody thinks my family is great," he said quietly.
Before Rose could respond, Scorpius had begun to walk again. She huffed and hurried to catch up. Scorpius's gaze was straight ahead, his pace slightly quicker than before so Rose had to trot to stay next to him. Rose said nothing more, a bit afraid of the direction the conversation had taken. She knew how great her family was, she thought angrily to herself. Of course she did. How could she not? Everybody knew.
Not everybody knew how painfully ordinary they were sometimes. Or how painfully impotent they were. Rose thought again of her mother's story, the way her eyes seemed to have lost all their light when she recounted Bellatrix Lestrange and Malfoy Manor. She thought of the way her father had screamed throughout the night, as though he were dying. Nobody knew about that.
Rose glanced sideways at Scorpius, and found herself wondering if his father awoke in the middle of the night screaming as well.
***
Saturday arrived with a rush of cold air and blizzard-like conditions. The Ravenclaw girls scurried around their dormitory tugging on jumpers and jackets while Allie cast anti-moisture charms over their hair.
"It's supposed to help the strands keep their shape even if it's raining or snowing," she said, standing atop Rose's bed as she circled her wand over Maren's head. "So my curls won't come undone and Maren, your hair will stay straight without frizzing up."
"You're a lifesaver," Maren said, eyeing herself in the mirror as Allie performed the final twirl of her wand.
"Your hair is magnificent, darling," Carmela the mirror wheezed. "You should keep it like that."
"How does mine look?" Rose asked, standing in front of the mirror and fingering the end of her plait.
"Like a civilized witch for once," Carmela replied.
Rose rolled her eyes. "Allie, I still think this mirror hates me."
"It's probably because you always insult her, Rose," Allie replied, tugging a pair of mittens out of her trunk. "She might take it personally."
"It's a sodding mirror," Rose protested, scowling at the offending piece. "How can it take anything personally?"
"Mirrors can have feelings," Allie said, as though it were an inarguable fact.
"Allie, how does my hair look?" Lucy asked from her bed, running a hand through the flat sheets of auburn hair which lay over her shoulders. "I tried that new shine serum you gave me."
"Oh, it's beautiful!" Allie cried, clapping her hands. "Nathan's going to absolutely trip over himself when sees you!"
"You think so?" Lucy gave a small smile and patted her head.
"You're stunning, Lucy," Maren said, throwing her cloak over her shoulder. "He'd be mad not to think so."
"Is everyone ready, then?" Allie asked, giving herself one more lookover in the mirror. "It's nearly time to meet everyone."
"I'm ready," Rose said, shoving her hat, a knitted turquoise one from Grandma Molly, into her cloak pocket.
"I nearly am," Maren said, bending over and lacing up her trainers.
It was another ten minutes before all four girls descended the stairs to the Great Hall, cloaks on and gloves in hand, not a hair out of place. Rose scanned the hall for Alec Davies and quickly spotted him standing with Fred, James, and Zeno Aylmer.
"There they are," she said, pointing towards the group of boys. "It looks like they're waiting for us."
"I see Nathan by the entrance," Lucy added, nodding towards the doorway where Nathan, Albus, and Scorpius stood.
They had just reached the end of the staircase when Nathan appeared in front of them, extending a hand to Lucy. Lucy beamed and took the offered hand, her shiny hair swinging against her back.
"It's brutal out there," Albus said, tugging his own Grandma Molly-gifted hat over his ears. "James said it's nearly a white out."
"We'd best get in line for the carriages, then," Nathan said, pulling Lucy away gently. "We'll see you lot later," he called over his shoulder.
"Do you think they'll call off the trip?" Allie asked, standing on her toes to peer at the doorway.
"I doubt it," Scorpius replied, tightening the emerald scarf wrapped around his neck. "It would just create more work for everyone, wouldn't it?"
"We should probably get a move on, though," Maren said. "We don't want to be the last ones to the village. Rose, should we find Fred?"
Rose nodded and walked the short distance across the hall. Fred saw her coming and waved, grinning widely.
"Rosie! Are you lot ready to go?"
"Mhm," Rose nodded.
"Good," Fred looked over his shoulder and nodded to Zeno and Alec. "We reckon we'll need two carriages. It might be a bit tight with all of us in one."
"Oh," Rose said, her face falling slightly. She glanced over Fred's shoulder, where Alec was talking animatedly to Zeno. "Okay, then."
"Us four will take one and you five can take another?" Fred asked, gesturing to Maren, Allie, Albus and Scorpius behind Rose. "We'll all meet up in the Three Broomsticks?"
"Sure," Rose replied, pulling on her braid. "We'll see you there."
"Excellent." Fred turned around and bellowed, "Oy, mates! Let's go before all the carriages are gone!"
"Well, we're taking our own carriage," Rose said, turning to look at Maren. "And we'll meet them at the Three Broomsticks."
"Sad you won't get a chance to squeeze in next to Davies?" Maren smirked.
Rose shook her head and snorted as they made their way to the carriage line. "Shut up. I never said anything about wanting to squeeze in-"
"Oh, but you wanted to," Maren laughed. "I just know you were imagining a packed carriage, so you had no choice but to spend the entire ride pressed against Davies and feeling his muscle-"
"Maren, please, for the love of Merlin, stop talking" Albus groaned behind her, covering his ears.
"What's wrong, Potter, don't like to hear about two people snuggling on a carriage?"
"How many times do I have to remind you people that Rose is my cousin and I don't want to hear about snuggling or snogging or-"
"We get it," Scorpius said, putting a hand up.
The Great Hall buzzed around them as students waited for carriages, chatting about plans for the village and the spectacular snowstorm. When it was their turn they submitted themselves to Filch's lethal-looking probe and insisted they had no forbidden items with them before rushing out into the snow and clambering into a carriage.
Rose found herself squeezed between Maren and Allie, with Al and Scorpius seated across from them. Snowflakes rushed about the sky, circling and spinning like figure skaters until coming to land gently on hats, noses, and eyelashes. Rose glanced down at her braid, pleased to see that it looked as dry as it had in the Great Hall.
"Your charm works, Allie," she said, nudging her friend.
Allie smiled. "Yes, I think it's a rather good one," she said. "It'll work wonders for all of us today."
When they arrived in the village they made a beeline for the Three Broomsticks, which already teemed with villagers and students looking for a reprieve from the weather.
Rose walked through the door with her head on a swivel, searching for Fred and James.
"Oy, Weasley!" a voice called from the back of the tavern. Rose stood on her toes and saw James standing, waving furiously. "Over here!"
"Found them," Albus said dryly beside her.
They made their way to the boys' table, and as Rose approached she saw Fred, Zeno, and Alec Davies sitting down with mugs of butterbeer in front of them. James, upon seeing them walk over, flopped into his seat and took a large gulp of his drink.
"Good of you to finally show up," Fred said.
Rose stuck her tongue out. "It took ages to get a carriage."
Alec Davies waved and got to his feet. "Here, let me help you lot get settled," he said. "You must be freezing."
"Um—" Rose stammered, warmth spreading over her neck as she undid the clasp on her cloak. She barely got it off her shoulders when Davies reached behind her, gently removing the cloak from her grasp and setting it neatly on the back of the seat next to him.
"Here, sit," he said pleasantly, turning to take Maren and Allie's cloaks as well and placing them on their respective seatbacks.
"Davies, you're making the rest of us look bad," Zeno complained.
"You could take my cloak," Albus offered, shaking snow from the tips of his hair.
"Nah," Zeno shook his head. "No offense, mate."
Albus scowled and dropped into the seat next to Allie. "It's bollocks that only the girls get their cloaks taken for them."
"Sorry," Alec Davies shrugged and returned to his seat. "Next time I'll be sure to take yours first, yeah?"
Rose held her breath as Davies leaned back in his seat. They sat so closely that if she moved just an inch to the left their arms would touch.
"Butterbeers for everyone?" Fred asked, gesturing around the table. "We didn't know how long you lot would be so we didn't order anything for you."
"Butterbeer's good," Maren said, taking her hat off and running a hand through her hair, which was still magically straight and sleek.
"Great," Fred said with a smile.
"Sorry," Alec Davies murmured, leaning towards Rose and giving a soft grin. A dimple appeared on one of his cheeks. "Such poor manners on our part to not have drinks ready for you."
"That-that's alright," Rose stammered. "We-we did take a while getting here. And you took the cloaks."
"Ah, that's nothing, really." Davies took a sip of butterbeer and leaned back, still smiling at her. "My mum would kill me if she heard three girls came by and I just sat back and let them seat themselves."
"What are you saying there, Davies?" James asked, running a hand through his hair. "You aren't getting too friendly with my cousin, are you?"
"What?" Rose yelped, jumping back in her chair as her face flamed. "No! James-it's-no-"
"Relax, it was a joke," James said, frowning at Rose and then rolling his eyes.
"I was just telling Rose about how my mum would kill me if I weren't polite here," Davies said easily.
Rose breathed in and sat back in her seat, avoiding making eye contact with James or Fred. Davies, mercifully, turned to Zeno and didn't see the undoubtedly terrible shade of red Rose's face had gone. At least, she hoped he didn't see.
"Pull it together," Maren breathed into her ear.
The butterbeer arrived and Rose snatched one of the bottles from the middle of the table, taking a large gulp and subsequently dissolving into a series of sputters and coughs.
"Slow down there, Weasley," Maren said as she thumped Rose on the back. "We can't have you die today. We need you for a few more quidditch matches this year."
"How's Winkle feeling about the Slytherin match next month?" James asked from across the table, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. "Is he nervous?"
"Nope," Maren replied. "Perfectly confident."
"Really?"
"Yup." Maren nodded and raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't he be?"
James shrugged with feigned nonchalance. "No reason. I was just wondering if there were any weak spots-"
"Merlin, James," Fred groaned. "They're not going to tell you that."
"It's worth a try!"
"No, the Ravenclaw team has no weak spots, right?" Davies asked, raising his eyebrows and shooting a smile in Rose and Maren's direction. "That's what I've heard, at least."
"Uh-mhm-" Rose nodded furiously.
"That's right," Maren said.
"Malfoy, you're on the team, right?" Davies asked, looking towards Scorpius. "Chaser?"
Scorpius set down his butterbeer and gave a short nod. "Yeah, been a chaser since third year," he responded. "I believe you've stopped quite a few of my shots."
Davies nodded and smiled. "Sorry about that. Nothing personal, you know."
"Oh yes, I know." Scorpius took a sip of his drink. "I think I've also scored on you quite a few times as well, so we'll call it even."
Davies chuckled and paused. "You had that one shot-was it you last year, who pulled off that dive and sank the quaffle right in the left hoop?"
Scorpius nodded, and if Rose didn't know better she would have thought there was the tiniest curve in the corner of his mouth. "That was me."
"That was incredible," Davies said. "Really, a great goal."
"Well, thank you."
The afternoon slipped by within the cozy confines of the Three Broomsticks. Rose drank another two butterbeers, proudly related her own quidditch victories of the year, and joined in on the comments about the atrocious weather.
"My mum said they put out a flight warning for all broomsticks in Scotland," Zeno said. "Apparently there was a crash near Glasgow from the low visibility and high winds."
When everyone agreed they couldn't possibly drink any more butterbeer they rose from the table and pulled on their cloaks and hats and mittens. Rose ambled out onto High Street, Alec Davies right behind her, holding open the door as she stepped outside.
Rose pulled down her hat and hugged herself, sneaking glances over her shoulder at Davies. It was time. They were leaving the Three Broomsticks and could pop into Honeydukes. There, they would both be looking for the same sweet, finding themselves alone in a storage room or cellar.
The snow was falling at an appalling rate, coming down so thickly that it was all Rose could do to step to the side of the street without running into anything.
Maybe instead of Honeydukes she and Davies could simply decide to return to the Three Broomsticks, just the two of them. There they could share a butterbeer, maybe share one of the cozy tables reserved for couples.
"Weasley! Weasley!" somebody called from down the street. Rose put a hand over her eyes, trying to make out the distant figure. Behind her, the door to the Three Broomsticks clattered closed.
"Weasley!" the voice called again. "Oh, good, Malfoy, you too!"
Booker Wechsler, his glasses covered in semi-melted snowflakes, nearly ran into Rose, panting as he stopped in front of her. "Weasley, oh good, I've found you."
"Um, hi, Wechsler," Rose said, frowning slightly. Now that she thought of it, she didn't think she had ever had a one-on-one conversation with the head boy. She peered over his shoulder, wondering if Amalia Villanueva were with him.
"Weasley, and you, Malfoy, I need you two."
"Need us?" Rose asked blankly.
"Yes," Wechsler huffed. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and pulled his hat down further over his ears. "It's been decided that the trip has been cut short due to the weather. There's worry that the carriages will be damaged and students potentially put at risk otherwise."
"Cut short?" Rose asked, a small panic rising in her chest. She looked over her shoulder where Alec Davies and Fred stood behind her, both of them gaping at the head boy.
"They can't do that," James protested, shaking his head. "We're all already here, and can't they just melt the snow so the carriages can get through?"
"It's not the snow on the ground that's the problem," Wechsler said waspishly, standing a bit straighter as he addressed James. "Precipitation in the air is significantly more difficult to manipulate and handle than elements on the ground, Potter. The snow isn't supposed to stop anytime soon, and is actually meant to get worse in the next hour, and so the village is allowing for all the shops and taverns to close early."
"But it's—"
"The carriages are pulled by thestrals," Fred said flatly. "And their sense of direction can be seriously impaired by a white out snowstorm."
"It's already been decided by the headmistress," Wechsler said curtly. He turned back to Rose. "As such, we're asking that all prefects present help us direct students to the carriages and ensure everyone returns safely to the castle."
"Now?" Rose asked dumbly, looking over her shoulder again. Alec Davies was looking at her now, a slight frown on his face.
"Yes, Weasley," Wechsler said, a note of impatience entering his voice. "Now."