Chapter 12
February slipped into March with its attending slush and mist. Chilled winds rocked the students of Hogwarts School to sleep each night, and the days began with Jack Frost laying a sparkling film of dew over the grounds. Inside the castle, life bustled on with all the color and drama afforded by school gossip, unexpected quidditch victories and the dread of impending examinations.
For Rose and all those with the fortune of being acquainted with her (or misfortune, depending when and whom you asked), the season was given further excitement due to the fact that she was now undeniably, unequivocally friends with Alec Davies. Following the disastrous Hogsmeade visit which had been cut short, after which Rose and Maren had passed a delightful evening in the Gryffindor common room, the two Ravenclaw girls had found themselves firm friends with the Gryffindor seventh years. They spent at least one evening a week in the Gryffindor common room, studying and playing exploding snap with the boys as often as their quidditch practices and Rose's patrol schedule permitted.
It was on one such evening that Rose found herself in the Gryffindor common room, sitting cross-legged between Maren and Zeno, holding a furiously smoking card.
"Drop it, Rose!" Maren shrieked, leaning as far back as she could. "I swear if you scorch another one of my shirts-"
"I'm not going to, now stop yelling at me!" Rose hissed, leaning forwards as she tried to drop the card as carefully as possible onto the pile. She held it gingerly with the tips of her index finger and thumb, tongue stuck slightly out in concentration as she let go and watched the card flutter onto the pile. Rose paused for a moment, leaned back, and when a moment of silence had passed let out a whoop.
"I told you it'd work!" she cried, grinning across the circle and pointing at James. "You said it wouldn't and I just-"
There was a loud bang! and Rose's excitement was quelled by the puff of smoke produced from the exploding pile of cards.
"What was that, Weasley?" James asked, sniggering as Rose wiped her hair from her eyes. "I'm sorry, what were you just saying?"
"Bugger." Rose scowled and shook her head as Zeno leaned forward to collect the cards, blowing on the still smoldering remains of the one Rose had just so carefully played.
"You almost had it, Weasley," Alec Davies said from the other side of Zeno, shaking his head and giving Rose a rueful smile. "You were so close."
"James always gives me the worst cards," Rose complained, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I think he's afraid of having to play a fair game against me."
"That's a lie," James sniffed from across the table, picking up the tin of fudge that sat next to him on the floor and breaking off a piece. "You just don't have the skill to play a card like that."
"I have skill!"
"You nearly blew up the Burrow this Christmas."
"Because you made me drop four cards at once-"
"Oy, are we playing again or not?" Fred asked loudly, scowling at his two cousins. "Honestly, you two are worse than Grandma and Aunt Fleur sometimes."
"I'll play again if someone other than James deals," Rose said with a toss of her head.
"You know you'll still probably lose, right?" Maren asked, raising an eyebrow.
Rose stuck her nose in the air. "I know no such thing."
Zeno shuffled the cards and dealt them out, chuckling softly as Rose and James both snatched theirs.
"So," Alec Davies said casually, dropping the first card onto the floor in front of them, "have you girls started looking for ball dresses yet? It's getting to be that time of year, isn't it?"
"Er," Rose flushed as Davies' gaze swept towards her, his eyes crinkling with a smile. Could he possibly be trying to discreetly find out what color dress she was going to wear? Was he asking because he wanted to ask her to go to the ball with him this year?
"We've been looking at dresses with Allie and Lucy," Maren said, elbowing Rose in the ribs. "Though I don't think any of us have made up our minds yet."
"Er, yes, right," Rose sputtered, winding a piece of hair around her finger as she tried to recover herself. "Like Maren said. We've been looking at loads of magazines-Allie's got dozens of them-but I dunno that I've found the perfect one yet."
"One of my favorite things about not being a girl," Fred said with a shake of his head, "is not having to go through all that trouble. Just get a set of dress robes, figure out what color shirt you need to get, and you're all set."
"Oh, but it's nice sometimes to get all dressed up," Rose said with a smile, dropping a card into the pile. "I don't even get as excited about it as Allie does but it is nice to get a new dress and have someone help do your hair and makeup-"
"I don't think any of us are mad you girls do all that," Alec Davies laughed, leaning across Zeno and nudging Rose in the arm. "We're just glad we don't have to do the same."
Rose felt her face flame and rolled her eyes with what she hoped came across as casual indifference. "We don't do it for you, though."
"No?" Alec Davies asked. "You don't try to look extra nice for your date?"
"Well-"
"Ahem," Fred cleared his throat and saved Rose from thinking of a clever reply. "Davies, it's your play."
"Oh, sorry about that." Davies dropped a card onto the pile and swept a hand through his dark hair, leaving it most attractively ruffled. Rose's eyes traced the movement of his fingers, noted the easy way he held his hand at the back of his head for a moment longer than necessary, so that the lithe muscles beneath his shirt flexed ever so slightly.
If only he would ask her to the ball, Rose would spend hours looking her very best for him.
"So, Weasley?" Alec had turned back to her, a smile on his face and arms back at his side. "How are you feeling about our quidditch bet right now?"
Rose shrugged and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I'm not worried," she chirped.
Davies grinned at her. "I believe I'm still winning as of now."
"For now," Rose replied, throwing down a card and glancing at Maren, who simply waggled her eyebrows. "But you're averaging only two saves more than me, and there's still another round of matches left."
"You think Ravenclaw will be able to beat Hufflepuff?"
"We can beat any team at the school," Maren broke in, sitting up straighter beside Rose. "And don't think we're going to tell you anything about our training."
"I heard Winkle's having trouble with the new seeker," James said, running a hand through his hair as his gaze bounced between the two girls. "Plumaj?"
"Really?" Alec raised his eyebrows. "That's surprising. She seems like a great teammate."
Rose frowned. "Check your sources, James. There's no trouble. Hera's brilliant and Ravenclaw's team is grand."
James snorted. "I'm sure. No troubles at all."
"That's right," Rose sniffed. "And we'd never tell you if there were problems."
"Will it be weird for you to play against Hugo?" Fred asked. He held a gently smoking card in his hands, frowning at the pile in front of him as he dropped it.
Rose shook her head. "I don't think so. We play against each other at home a lot. And anyways, it's not like he'll be directly trying to score on me since he's a beater."
"He better not try to hit me with a bludger, though," Maren grumbled. "I'll have to remind him that I'll be at your house this summer."
Rose rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he won't."
"I don't know how you all do it," Alec Davies said, shaking his head. "Play against your family like this. I think it'd drive me mad."
"It's easier to play against James," Rose replied, glaring at her cousin. "We never want him to win."
"Hey! You always play on my team at home."
"Well," Alec Davies said, "hopefully you have the match of your life against Hufflepuff, Weasley." He leaned forward, and Rose could see that the back of his hair still stuck up where his fingers had run through it. "You know, I'm usually very competitive, but I wouldn't be mad to lose a bet to you."
"Oh-" Rose flushed and looked down at her cards, trying to conceal the smile blooming on her face. "Well—I—I hope so too, Davies."
The smile left her face as James dropped a card into the pile and the entire thing exploded.
***
March crept along, bringing with it a truly abominable pile of homework for the Hogwarts fifth years and a crop of flyers pinned to the common room message board announcing career advising. The flyers were the cause of many groans from the exhausted students, and especially loathsome to Rose, not least because they were accompanied by daily owls from her mother containing job listings from the Daily Prophet for various ministry departments and Gringott's.
"Why can't she just let me focus on my exams?" Rose grumbled one morning as she tossed aside a handful of such clippings, with moving images of Gringotts Bank and her mother's hand circling positions for Junior Runes Analysts. "It's bad enough we have to do those bloody advising sessions."
"Speak for yourself," Maren said beside her, leaning over to examine the papers in front of Rose. "I don't have a single clue what I should be doing. I wouldn't be mad if my mum sent me a few of these."
Rose bit her lip and looked down at her plate. It wasn't that she was angry that her mother was sending her the listings. On some level she did appreciate it, and knew her mother only meant well. Hermione didn't want her daughter to miss out on any opportunity. And, Rose could admit, it was entirely possible that if left to her own devices she might miss a perfect posting simply from not paying attention.
"You know you can look through all of the ones my mum's sending me," she said to Maren, pushing the clippings towards her friend. "And if you want to list out some of the things you're interested in I can add them to my next letter. I'm sure she'd love to be able to send you listings she thinks you'd like as well."
Maren nodded and took a bite of a muffin. "Thanks, Weasley."
"No problem."
Maren continued with her muffin, and Rose took a sip of pumpkin juice, staring at the clippings which now sat in front of Maren. Her mother meant well, and Rose knew her parents would be happy with whatever career she chose. But all the ones her mother sent to her sounded so absurdly...official.
"Are you a bit worried we're not actually qualified to do any of this?" she asked Maren, gesturing towards the pile of listings. "I mean," she picked up one of the papers and read the description out loud, "a dedicated and energetic young witch or wizard who can assist with the development and execution of complex counter-curses in a fast-paced and constantly evolving environment.' That sounds mad! There's no way that anyone would let me do anything like that in two years."
Maren shrugged and swallowed her final bite. "I dunno. Don't they always try to make the jobs sound like a bigger deal than they are?"
"Maybe." Rose fingered the listing, running the pad of her index finger over the crisp corners and watching the headline twinkle.
"People will probably be fighting over you, Al, and Lucy, anyways," Maren said casually, reaching across the table for the pumpkin juice. "'Cause of your family. And I'm sure your cousins will help you get a spot in the Auror office or with the cursebreakers."
Rose scowled and pushed her plate away. "That's what Allie said last night."
Maren raised her eyebrows. "You don't want Dom to help you get a job?"
Rose shrugged. "I just don't know that I want to be a cursebreaker like Dom."
"Don't get yourself so wound up," Maren said, leaning over and knocking her shoulder into Rose's. "If you don't want to be a cursebreaker, then don't. You'll still find some important Weasley job that will be interesting and exciting, and nobody will care too much."
Rose opened her mouth to reply that it wasn't that simple, but then closed it and slumped in her seat. She didn't quite know at that moment how to explain to Maren, one of her very best friends who knew more about her and her family than nearly anyone else, that it was precisely this assumption that she would do important work that gnawed at her.
Doing something unimportant didn't seem to be an option. And right all the important jobs that Rose knew of terrified her.
Nobody cared that much what she did, it was true. But there was an unspoken expectation, a seemingly decided-upon fact, that Rose Weasley would go on to do exciting and important work like her parents and older cousins. As much as she admired the adults in her family, though, she wasn't sure she wanted their jobs. She wanted to do something she liked, yes. She wanted to do something that mattered to her. But spending her whole life watching her mother shoulder issue after issue at the ministry, and watching Victoire go through the grueling auror training, taking each exam and each case so seriously, Rose didn't know that she wanted to do the same. It seemed exhausting. It was exhausting just being in their family, let alone doing that work herself.
And she loved Ancient Runes, yes. She loved Dom and wanted to grow up to be like her, and she really wouldn't mind an Arabian Prince taking her on a magic carpet ride for an evening. But when Rose thought about Dom's letters from Egypt and the prospect of actually spending her days duelling mummies and trying to not be turned into a cat it sounded...exhausting. Frightening. Entirely too exciting.
Rose grimaced and thought back to the night she'd heard her father screaming. She never wanted to hear another person make a sound like that again.
But everybody seemed to expect that the daughter of Ron and Hermione would go on to do something heroic, either on a battlefield or in the Wizengamot courtrooms. Rose, no matter what she had said before, wasn't quite sure she wanted a heroic life now. She might just like a quiet one. Not boring. She didn't want to be like Uncle Percy prattling on about cauldron thickness constantly. But quiet.
Of course, none of this seemed quite the thing to say to Maren. In fact, Rose distinctly felt that it would be absurd and inappropriate to say this to Maren, whose muggle mother couldn't send her magical job listings and whose last name did not carry the same weight. So Rose closed her mouth and poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice and silently tucked the bundle of clippings into her bag to keep for her friend.
***
March continued on in a torrent of classes, quidditch, and patrols. Henry Winkle kept the Ravenclaw quidditch team to a rigorous practice schedule, refusing to leave anything up to chance as they entered the last leg of the season.
Evening patrols had become, if not particularly fun, then consistently tolerable. Rose had long ago given up any hope that she and Scorpius could be friends, but they seemed to have come to some sort of armistice since their conversation after Christmas and the events in Hogsmeade. To Rose's enormous relief they seemed to have a tacit agreement not to bring up the carriage ride back from the village, nor the conversation about their parents. They passed the two hours twice a week quietly and uneventfully, occasionally asking one another about homework or a quidditch play. It wasn't quite as interesting or entertaining as Rose would have hoped, but she figured it might be the best she would get as long as she was stuck with Malfoy.
Rose and the other fifth year Ravenclaws were assigned times for their career advising sessions with Professor Flitwick and throughout the last week of March the students traipsed to the Charms corridor in groups of twos and threes, laden with parchment and half-formed career aspirations. Rose and Lucy had the last two sessions of their house, thanks to their last name, and so they had the privilege of spending a full week anxiously watching their classmates return from their respective appointments, their faces either glowing or dejected depending on the nature of the conversation.
Allie, who had been among the first to get the dreaded meeting over with, came back in a flutter, her hands full of pamphlets detailing positions with The Daily Prophet beauty section and Madam Malkin's merchandising department.
"I told Professor Flitwick all about the latest line of Faerie Lite makeup coming out and how it's just a repackaging of their line from three years ago and absolutely not worth the seven galleons," she told the other three as they leafed through the papers. "And would you know, just from that he told me he had some past students who had gone on to work in Diagon Alley in different fashion and beauty positions! Imagine it, girls. I could be the one writing for one of these magazines here!"
Scorpius had significantly less to say about his meeting, simply shrugging when asked how the conversation had gone and replying that it went as expected. Whatever he meant by that the girls could only guess, and Rose knew she would not be the one to ask for further details.
Maren, who had her appointment the night before Rose and Lucy, had a very different experience than Allie. She came back to the common room with her eyes blazing, nearly buried under a pile of pamphlets.
"I just don't know," she wailed, sinking into an armchair as the parchment swirled around her. "The little blighter asked me what my interests are and I said quidditch and he asked if I'm thinking of playing professionally and I said in an ideal world that would be lovely but I ought to have a backup plan-"
"Maren, you really shouldn't call Professor Flitwick a little blighter," Allie broke in, putting a hand on Maren's shoulder.
"Ugh, I know it's not his fault," Maren tossed her hair and sighed. "He just started asking me about my interests and which subjects I like best and what my professional and personal goals are and I just don't know!"
"You don't know what your interests are?" Lucy asked, eyebrows knitting together as she began to sweep the fallen parchment into a pile.
"I know the things that I like but none of them are really jobs," Maren explained. "I like quidditch. I like sitting around playing exploding snap with you lot and the boys. I like watching muggle football games."
"You could be a sports correspondent like Aunt Ginny," Rose suggested, squeezing into the chair beside her friend. "That's what she did after she stopped playing professionally."
"That's what Flitwick suggested," Maren nodded slowly. "I dunno, though. Aren't those jobs really hard to come by? I mean," her eyes flickered to Rose and then to Lucy, "if your Aunt Ginny is the type of witch to be chosen I don't think I stand a chance."
They spent the rest of the evening assuring Maren that she was every bit as talented and interesting as Aunt Ginny, even if she didn't end up married to The Chosen One, and that none of them would read the Daily Prophet sports section in protest until Maren herself had the job.
It was with no small amount of trepidation, then, that Rose and Lucy found themselves walking from Ravenclaw Tower to the Charms corridor the next evening. The air hung heavy between them, and Rose chewed her bottom lip as they trotted down the stairs. She and Lucy so rarely went anywhere by themselves anymore, Rose found she wasn't quite sure what to say to her cousin. She wasn't even sure Lucy would want to talk to her.
"So—er—" she began nervously, twisting a piece of hair, "d'you have an idea of what you want to talk about with Flitwick?"
Lucy scrunched up her face and tugged at the end of her ponytail. For a moment Rose was afraid the face was for her, but then Lucy said, "I think I do. I mean, I have a general idea of what I like and what I want to look at but-" she trailed off and glanced at Rose. "I just don't quite know what he's going to want to say."
"Yeah." Rose nodded, unsure of how to respond. "Yeah, I-er-I feel kinda the same."
A pause. The corridor echoed with their footsteps and out of the corner of her eye Rose saw Lucy fidget with her hair again.
"Do you-" Lucy turned slightly as she spoke, her brown eyes widening slightly, "d'you think Flitwick's talked to our parents? About us?"
"Our parents?" Rose raised her eyebrows, slightly taken aback by the question. It was the first time Lucy had openly acknowledged their family since the summer holidays. "I-I don't know. I've never thought about it."
"I mean," Lucy shrugged and turned away. "I know McGonagall does. At least, she talks to your mum and dad quite often, doesn't she?"
"I suppose." Rose paused, peering at Lucy. "But that's because she was their head of house when they were in school and she fought in the war with them. I don't know if Flitwick-"
"My dad's just mentioned writing to him before," Lucy said quietly.
"Oh?" Rose turned and looked at her cousin, whose gaze was on the floor. Rose swallowed. Lucy had hardly said anything about her parents, especially Uncle Percy, since that terrible fight at the Burrow the year before. "I didn't know that."
"I think he mostly wrote about Molly," Lucy mumbled.
Rose softened, her shoulders sinking. "Right," she said hurriedly, trying to comfort Lucy. She could be comforting; she could listen to Lucy and show her that she cared and could give advice just as well as Allie or Nathan.
She took a deep breath and did her best impression of Victoire. "I'm sure that doesn't mean much, though. I mean, from what McGonagall has said to my mum it sounds like all the professors get loads of letters from parents. Whether or not your dad's written Flitwick about you, I don't think it will matter much."
"Really?" Lucy asked as they reached the fourth floor and turned the corner to the Charms corridor.
"Yeah." Rose nodded, her voice coming out more confident than she felt. "I mean, even if he has written, it's probably nothing Flitwick doesn't already know. The teachers see us almost every day. They probably know better than our parents what we like and what we're good at."
Lucy nodded, her face seeming to relax a bit. "That's true."
They stopped in front of the Charms classroom, the door halfway open.
"Well," Rose said, gesturing towards the door. "Good luck. Tell me how it goes."
"Will do," Lucy said. "Er-thanks, Rose." She gave a small smile and slipped into the room, shutting the classroom door behind her.
Rose whiled away the half hour outside the Charms classroom by imagining the various ways Alec Davies could ask her to attend the Victory Ball with him. She was right in the middle of the fourth iteration, in which Alec surprised her in the Great Hall with a bouquet of flowers and a kiss, soft and chaste and romantic, when the classroom door burst open and Lucy appeared, her eyes bright and her hands clutching a stack of parchment.
"Oh!" Rose cried, jumping up and shaking her head to clear the image of Alec smiling down at her. "Luce, uh, how was the meeting?"
"It was good," Lucy nodded swiftly, holding up the parchment in her hands. "I think I've got an idea now of what to do, and Flitwick really was helpful."
"Oh, well that's great," Rose said.
"Yeah," Lucy let out a breath and stepped away from the door. "So-er-do you want me to wait here for you?"
"No," Rose shook her head. "That's alright. If you want to go back to the common room I'll meet you there."
Lucy nodded, her eyes fluttering to the corridor. "Grand. I'll see you later, then."
Lucy hurried away, the parchment in her hand rustling with every step, and Rose stepped into the classroom.
"Ah, Miss Weasley," Professor Flitwick squeaked from behind his desk, which was covered in brightly colored pamphlets. "Come in, come in, have a seat please."
Rose made her way to the front of the room and dropped into the seat across from Professor Flitwick, her eyes scanning the mess of papers on the desk. She recognized some of the department names blazoned on the pamphlets from the listings her mum had sent, and felt slightly queasy looking at the bright colors and dancing images and snappy headings. Professor Flitwick waved his wand and the pamphlets all flew together into a neat stack, which deposited itself on the corner of the desk.
"Wonderful," he said, looking to the side and flicking his wand so a small bundle of parchment flew up in front of him. Flitwick snatched it from the air and settled into his seat, flipping easily through the sheets.
"Wonderful," he said again, glancing up at Rose, who chewed her lip and waited for him to ask her a question. "Well, Miss Weasley, your grades are impeccable, as I'm sure you know. You have a fine resume of extracurriculars, what with your participation on the house quidditch team and your prefect duties. And," he flipped to the last sheet of parchment, "other than a handful of small incidents, your disciplinary record is quite good. So, my dear," he set the parchment down and folded his hands on the desk as he looked at her, "the question is: what is it you'd like to do?"
"Er—" Rose ran a hand through her hair and looked down at the desk. "I dunno exactly, Professor. I'd like-well, my mum thinks I would be a good fit with the ministry or Gringott's-"
"Can you see yourself working at either of those two places?" Flitwick asked evenly.
Rose shrugged and swallowed. "I don't quite know. The ministry-I don't know how much I'd like that." She paused. "I think Gringott's would be interesting, but I haven't taken Arithmancy."
"Oh, that's no bother," Flitwick squeaked, waving his wand at the stack of pamphlets in front of him. "It's a common mistake," he said, glancing up at Rose as three pamphlets flew up to his hand. "Everyone thinks you need Arithmancy to do anything with gold, and it's true that you do need it for several of the more prominent jobs at the bank, but it's absolutely not required for everything." He rifled through the pamphlets in his hand and slid the first towards her.
"I—er—I really like Ancient Runes," Rose said, watching the pamphlets warily.
"Oh, excellent!" Two more pamphlets flew from the pile and into Flitwick's hands. He thrust the stack towards Rose. "Now, those detail different positions with the bank's legal, curse reparation, and international liaison departments. They're constantly in need of translators, analysts, and international representatives."
Rose took the top pamphlet gingerly in her hand and flipped through it, her eyes skating across the pictures of young witches and wizards in Egypt, Tel Aviv, and Paris. "Join our curse reparation team and help give back what's been stolen," the headline read.
"Be sure to consider the legal department," Flitwick continued, "I'm sure they would love to have you, what with all the work your mother has done with the Wizengamot and bringing forward new regulations."
Rose nodded mutely and made no reply.
"And then, if you're interested," Flitwick waved his wand and brought forth another pamphlet, "the Prophet is always looking for more international correspondents, and they're always excited to get someone who can handle runes. I daresay Ginny would be able to help you out there, introduce you to the editorial staff and give you an idea of what they would be looking for."
Rose took the proffered pamphlet, turning it over in her hands. She sat back, reading the excerpt and trying to force a smile.
"So those should cover Ancient Runes and the bank," Professor Flitwick said, sitting back in his seat. "I don't think I this is really necessary, but mind that if you decide to pursue any of those," he waved his hand towards the pamphlets in front of Rose, "you'll need top marks in Ancient Runes, and a strong background in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration. Depending on what you want to do with the bank it's likely they'll require Potions and Herbology as well."
Rose nodded, glancing down at the papers once again and trying not to wrinkle her nose at the thought of taking N.E.W.T. level potions.
"Are there any other interests you have?" Professor Flitwick asked, leaning forward in his seat. "Any other classes or departments you'd like to talk about?"
"Um—"
"Oh," Flitwick squeaked, waving his wand once again and sending a pink pamphlet towards her. "I nearly forgot! You'll want to look through this option as well, I'm sure."
Rose took the pamphlet, jaw tightening as she read the words "Become an Auror," and saw a picture of her Uncle Harry blinking at her from the cover.
"Right," she said, tucking the parchment away.
"Of course, I'm sure you already know the requirements to be accepted as an auror," Flitwick said. "Top marks in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not that any of that would be a concern for you. You would need strong recommendations, as well, though between myself and our headmistress, and with the professional recommendations I'm sure any number of people would be happy to write for you, you needn't worry about that."
"Great," Rose muttered.
"So I believe we've covered the most obvious options," Professor Flitwick said, waving his wand to straighten the pile of pamphlets again. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss, Miss Weasley? Any other interests?"
"I—I like books," Rose said, looking down at the desk and running her finger along the wooden edge. "I read a lot from the Hogwarts library but also muggle books."
"Ah, lovely." Professor Flitwick took his wand and flicked through the pamphlets, coming to an orange one near the bottom of the stack. "Here's what I'm looking for-" he snatched the pamphlet from the desk and handed it to Rose. "If you decide Gringott's or the ministry aren't for you, you can look into working with Flourish and Blotts or one of the other retailers nearby. I believe Flourish and Blotts just recently filled a post, but others may well open up in the next few years. Ever since they've begun expanding they've been trying to recruit more and more students, and it will help that you're familiar with the muggle market as well."
Rose blinked, glancing down at the pamphlet. "Oh, wow, yes, that's lovely."
"Yes," Professor Flitwick replied, still flicking through the pamphlets. "Not many students choose to go into retail, but wizards will always need books. Though," he glanced up at Rose, "something like that may be a bit tame compared to your other options."
Rose gave a shrug, flipping through the pamphlet and skimming the contents. Flourish and Blotts International Magical Booksellers. New locations in Cairo, Brussels, Prague, and Tokyo. A need for sales associates, store managers, and merchandising assistants. An interest in literature is essential.
"So," Flitwick said with a tone of finality, "is there anything we've missed, Miss Weasley?"
Rose glanced down at the sheaf of parchment on the desk, staring at the Flourish and Blotts logo on the top sheet. "Er-no-I don't believe so."
"Excellent." He nodded and set his wand down, looking up and giving Rose a kind smile. "Try not to worry about it all too much, then. Just read through those," he pointed at the pamphlets in front of her, "and try to get through the exams with strong marks. Between your grades and your family," he gave a chuckle, "I'd say you will have your pick of careers at the end of your time here. And I've already had my practice writing letters of recommendations for Weasleys to join the top offices available."
"Oh. Right." Rose tried to smile, and managed a grimace. She cleared her throat before Flitwick could notice and hastily collected the pamphlets. "Right. Well, thank you Professor Flitwick. This was very-very helpful."
"Not at all," Professor Flitwick gave a wave of his hand. "If you have any more questions feel free to come by my office, Miss Weasley."
Rose nodded. "Yes, of course. Well-" she stood up awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
Flitwick busied himself with clearing the parchment off his desk, and gave her a short nod. "Have a good evening, Miss Weasley."
"You too, Professor."
The walk back to Ravenclaw Tower was uneventful, and Rose entered the common room feeling rather dazed. She quickly spotted Lucy, Maren, and Allie sitting around a small table, chatting quietly. Rose joined them and dropped into the seat beside Allie, her pile of pamphlets falling to the table in front of her.
"Your meeting went well, then?" Maren asked, raising an eyebrow at the parchment.
Rose shrugged and gave a small smile. "Not too bad. Flitwick actually had some decent suggestions."
"Yeah?" Allie turned to face Rose. "What are you thinking of?"
"Well, he said I don't need Arithmancy to work at Gringott's," Rose said, gesturing to the curse reparation pamphlet at the top of the pile. "If I have good marks in Ancient Runes, he said I can do quite a bit with them as a liaison or with their legal department."
"You'd be a solicitor for the bank?" Maren asked, crinkling her nose.
Rose paused. "He said they'd love to have me there because of my mum."
"I didn't know you wanted to have a job like your mum's," Lucy frowned.
Rose shrugged, the sinking feeling returning to her chest. "I dunno."
"There's nothing wrong with being a solicitor for a bank," Allie said.
Maren made a face. "I guess not, but my dad's a solicitor and it sounds bloody boring."
"Everyone needs solicitors, though," Lucy pointed out, her eyes flickering to Rose.
"Still." Maren looked to Rose. "Do you want to be spending your entire day prepping to go before the Wizengamot to argue about-I dunno-international inflation rates or some rubbish?"
Rose shuddered, thinking of all the mornings she had seen her mum run around the kitchen frantic, muttering about trials and regulations and reformations. "No, that sounds awful."
"What else did Flitwick give you?" Allie asked, leaning forward and rifling through the parchment pile.
"Some information about the Prophet," Rose said. "Apparently they always like having international correspondents with a background in Runes. And a pamphlet about the auror office." She tried not to wrinkle her nose.
Lucy's gaze shot to Rose. "You want to be an auror?"
Rose held her cousin's stare, feeling her face pinch. "No," she said quietly with a shake of her head. "I don't think I do."
Lucy looked away. "He didn't say anything about being an auror to me."
Rose shrugged. "Count yourself lucky."
"So you're pretty much going to be working at Gringott's, huh?" Maren asked.
"Oh," Rose turned back to her pamphlets and scooped up the Flourish and Blotts one. "He did give me something about working with the bookshop. Apparently they've been expanding and like having people on staff who are familiar with wizarding and muggle books."
"Ooh," Allie cried, her face lighting up as she leaned over to glimpse the pamphlet in Rose's hand. "Imagine you working in the bookstore!"
"You'd never get anything done," Maren snorted. "You'd just read all the stock."
"Shut up," Rose shook her head and bent to gather the pamphlets. "It's just an idea. He did say I have lots of time and have a lot of options. Who knows, maybe I'll get tired of everything and just join Uncle George in the joke shop."
"Will there be room for you there with Roxanne working there?" Lucy asked with a smile. "Somehow I can't imagine you two working together."
"What do you mean?" Rose asked, a laugh bubbling up in her chest. "Roxy and I would be marvelous coworkers."
"One of you would blow up the shop."
"No we wouldn't," Rose sniffed and sank into the armchair, leaning her chin on Allie's shoulder. "But, hey, Lucy, how did your meeting go?"
Lucy ducked her head down to the sheet of parchment in her hand, a gentle flush creeping up her cheeks. "It was good," she said softly. "I-I think I've an idea of what I'd like to do."
"Yeah?" Rose raised her eyebrows.
Lucy gave a slow nod. "I think I'd like to work in the Muggle Relations department. Like Grandpa Arthur did."
"Really?" Rose asked in surprise. It wasn't a bad fit for Lucy, the Muggle Relations department. She had just never heard her cousin mention it before. Lucy had always talked about being a healer like Molly, or else working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation like her dad.
"Yeah," Lucy bit her bottom lip and looked to the ground. "It-I don't know-it's not quite as high-profile as what my dad wanted but I like it." She flushed. "I think muggle artifacts and traditions are interesting and I love Muggle Studies and Professor Harlowe thinks I'd be good at it."
"That's great, Luce," Rose said, leaning forward and giving her cousin's arm a tentative squeeze. "I think you'd be brilliant at that."
"Yeah, well," Lucy gave a small smile, making Rose's chest expand, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I hope it works out. Professor Flitwick was saying that they don't always have open positions since it's such a small department-"
"I'm sure it will work out perfectly," Rose said.
"Oh, this is so exciting," Allie said beside Rose. "We're all going to finish school and get amazing jobs-"
"Speak for yourself," Maren groaned from the neighboring armchair, throwing an arm over her face. "I might just finish school and join Peeves."
"You're going to become a poltergeist?" Lucy asked, turning away from Rose to frown at Maren.
"I could just stick around here and harass people in the hallway. I don't see why I can't be a human and do that."
"Does Peeves get paid, though?" Allie asked, wrinkling her nose.
"D'you think they'd let me just keep a spot in the dorm and eat in the Great Hall? I'd be okay with that."
"We do have to get through exams first, though," said Lucy.
Now Rose and Allie groaned along with Maren.
"Why'd you have to bring exams into this?" Rose asked. "I don't want to even think about them until May."
"Not until after the ball," Maren nodded in agreement.
"Say, Rose," Allie said, sitting up and reaching for something on the table in front of her. "You were at your meeting with Flitwick earlier when I was showing the others this, but I got the new issue of Witch Weekly today and they have some darling dresses in them."
"Ooh, show me," Rose squealed, leaning to the side to peer at the glossy magazine in Allie's hand.
"Oy, show her the one I want to get," Maren called from her armchair, leaning forward to look over Rose's shoulder.
Allie obligingly flipped to the dog-eared page, and Rose oohed and aahed appropriately over the silky gold dress.
"Would your parents really let you get that even with it not having a back?" she asked, turning to look at Maren.
Maren shrugged. "I dunno. I was kinda thinking of asking my aunt if she'd get it for me. That way they wouldn't have to know."
Rose snorted and turned back to the magazine, where the model was spinning to show off the dress's skirt. "You'd look bloody amazing in it."
"Thanks," Maren grinned. "I know."
"Oh, Rose, there's one I wanted to show you," Allie said, flipping back to an earlier page. "This one here in the corner. Isn't it lovely? That midnight blue color would look gorgeous with your eyes."
Rose watched as the model in the magazine, whose blonde hair was the same color as Allie's and fell in soft waves down her back, blew a kiss and twirled. The dress was beautiful, Rose couldn't deny, with golden stitching along the waist and the dark blue fabric falling softly to the floor. She thought about this time last year, and the blue dress she had so excitedly ordered and put on for the Victory Ball. She crinkled her nose.
"It is lovely," she said. "But no blue this year. I think I need something different."
"Hm, okay," Allie said, furrowing her brow and flipping to the next page. "Oh, Lucy, isn't the one you like?"
"Hm?" Lucy looked up and got to her feet, padding over to the armchair and leaning between Rose and Allie. "Oh, yes, it's so pretty."
Allie pointed to the dress, a lovely light blue one with lacy cap sleeves and a flowing skirt that Rose already knew would look beautiful on Lucy.
"Rose, what about this one?" Allie asked, pointing to the dress on the opposite page. Rose shook her hair out of her eyes and leaned forward to get a better look. It didn't seem like a dress she would have picked, but the longer she looked the more she liked it. It was different. The forest green material gathered just under the bust and then dropped, with gold and silver beading decorating the corset top. It looked like a dress Dominique would have worn.
Rose smiled. "I like that."
"Let me see," Maren said, rising to her feet and perching on the armrest beside Rose. "Ooh, Rose, that would look so good."
"You think so?" Rose felt her neck warm as she pictured herself in the forest green dress, her hair swirled and tucked around her head and some eyeshadow-golden maybe-highlighting her eyes.
"I think Alec Davies would die if he saw you in that."
Rose's cheeks burned and she playfully shoved Maren off the armchair. "Shut up, don't say that! You're going to jinx it."
"Do you really think he might ask you?" Allie asked, her brown eyes widening as she turned to look at Rose.
Rose looked down at her hands and gave what she hoped was a noncommittal shrug. "I don't know. We're friends, but—"
"He definitely likes you," Maren said.
"I know," Rose huffed. "But just as a friend and-that doesn't mean-don't let me get my hopes up! He's a seventh year, and I'm just a fifth year—"
"Seventh years take fifth years all the time," Maren shrugged.
"And he's the best keeper in the school, not to mention he is the most beautiful person in the castle—"
"I am personally offended to hear you say that, Weasley-"
"Piss off, you know what I mean." Rose sank back and covered her face with her hands. "And I just really don't want to get my hopes up because I did that last year with Theo and look how well that ended and really, I've already gotten them up by myself so can you lot please do your job as my friends and tell me to stop being ridiculous?"
"Okay," Maren nodded and straightened in her seat, turning her gaze on Rose. "Rose, stop being ridiculous. You're going to get that green dress, you're going to look amazing, you're going to go to the ball with Davies or with someone else or just with the rest of us and you're going to do that ridiculous dance move you do with Albus and make yourself look like an idiot."
Rose let out an unintentional shout of laughter. "Yes, lovely, that's what I needed to hear."
"Finding a date is so horribly stressful," Allie said, leaning beside Rose and shaking her head. "The boys have it easy. They're the ones that actually do the asking. We just have to sit here and wait for them to do it."
"You could ask them if you wanted to," Lucy said, shaking her head.
"Lucy, very kindly, do not speak to me about finding a date," Maren retorted with a mock glare. "You are the only one lucky enough to have a real boyfriend right now so you don't have to worry about any of it."
Lucy flushed. "I mean, it's not-"
"I am rather jealous of you, Lucy," Allie chirped. "It's so much easier when you know who you'll be going with."
Lucy shrugged and failed to hide her smile. "Sorry."
"If I can't find a date, would you share Nathan with me for the evening?" Maren asked. "Not to snog or anything, just to coordinate outfits and dance with."
"Of course," Lucy nodded. "You'll have to wear blue then. And I'll make you both dance with Albus and Rose."
"Deal."
The rest of the evening passed in much the same way. The career pamphlets lay forgotten on the table, and the Ravenclaw fifth year girls giggled over dresses, and the prospect of finding dates for the Victory Ball, and Maren's impression of Albus Potter dancing.
***
The next week passed pleasantly enough. After several furious letters and a threat to run away to Rose's house, Maren convinced her parents to get her the backless gold dress for the Victory Ball. Rose, for her part, had succumbed to Allie's insisting pleas and asked her mother to order the green dress for her before it sold out. While none of the Ravenclaw girls yet had dates except for Lucy, they felt that with their garments arranged they were reasonably well-prepared.
During her final patrol of the week, Rose perfected the details of her latest daydream. She saw herself in the Great Hall, donned in the forest green dress and her hair twisted into an elegant knot that defied both magical laws and muggle physics. A tall, handsome, faceless stranger had his well-muscled arms around her and she spun about the hall with more grace than she had ever before possessed. At the end of the night, as she insisted she must leave and get back to her dorm, the stranger tugged her towards him, whispered something into her ear, and leaned down to softly kiss her.
Rose sighed to herself as the daydream came to an end, her lips tingling as though a handsome stranger really had just kissed them.
"Weasley?"
She turned with a start and saw Scorpius giving her a strange look, his hands in his pocket and the silver prefect badge gleaming on his chest.
"Er—sorry, I just spaced out a little bit."
Scorpius nodded and turned his gaze back to the corridor they were patrolling. "Alright. You just made a strange noise."
Rose didn't reply, but felt her traitorous face flush. What had she—never mind, she shook her head. She didn't want to know what she had done or said. She would simply pretend the entire exchange had never happened, and go back to picturing the green dress and the stranger who would bestow a midnight kiss on her.
"Lucy said the two of you had your career advising meetings with Flitwick last week."
Rose turned to Scorpius and raised her eyebrows. His hands were still in his pockets, though his gaze now fell on her, grey eyes molten in the candlelight. Apparently tonight was one of the nights that he decided he wanted to talk to her rather than patrol in silence.
"Er—yeah—we did." Rose paused, waiting for him to continue.
Scorpius just nodded and looked down at his feet.
Rose rolled her eyes. Merlin, he made things difficult.
"You had your meeting as well, didn't you?" she asked, trying not to huff.
Scorpius nodded again. "Yeah," he said softly.
Again, Rose waited. Again, Scorpius said nothing more.
"And?" she asked, a touch harsher than she'd meant to.
His eyes flickered back to her, shadows from the torchlit corridor dancing across his cheeks. "It wasn't quite what I was expecting," he said at last.
Rose blinked. "How do you mean?"
Scorpius shrugged. "It was so...ordinary and strange at the same time."
Rose couldn't help it. She snorted.
Scorpius's eyes narrowed. "I was being serious, Weasley."
"I know," Rose shook her head. "I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you, Malfoy. I just— I thought the same."
His eyebrows shot up. "You did?"
"Yes." Rose nodded and turned her gaze to the floor. Fancy that. Of all the people she had spoken with about the oddness of the career meeting, it was Scorpius Malfoy who so succinctly put the experience into words. Rose peered at him out of the corner of her eye, straight back, light hair glowing in the dim light, mouth set in a firm line.
"So, what options are you looking at?"
He started at her question. "Er—likely something at the ministry. Flitwick mentioned a few departments he thought I'd be well-suited for."
"Oh." Rose nodded mechanically. "That's...nice."
"You?"
"Hm?" She looked at him.
Scorpius raised an eyebrow. "What options are you looking at?"
"Oh." She paused and wound a lock of hair around her finger. "A few things at Gringott's that don't require Arithmancy. Maybe something at The Prophet."
"Right. Those are all good ones." He glanced at her, forehead wrinkling. "You don't want to be an auror or something like the rest of your family?"
"No." The response dropped from her mouth with more venom than she had intended, and both of Scorpius's eyebrows lifted. "Sorry," Rose said, feeling her face flush. "I just…no. I don't want to be an auror. Or a cursebreaker or the head of the Wizengamot."
Scorpius frowned. "So," he said slowly, "what do you want to do?"
Rose's shoulders fell and she bit her bottom lip. "I don't know," she said. "Or, maybe I do. Though, I suppose if I really knew what I wanted to do I would've told Flitwick, hm?"
Scorpius just shrugged. "I don't know what you would do, Weasley."
Rose sighed and crossed her arms, her eyes tracing the lines of the stone floors. "Everyone just thinks I should be an auror, or a cursebreaker or try to be minister because of my family," she muttered, half forgetting who she was talking to. "It's bloody annoying. What if I don't want to do anything like that, hm? What if I want to move to a different country where nobody knows me and just live in a shack by the water and open a little muggle bookstore and spend my days talking to muggles about Jane Austen?"
Rose looked up and glared at Scorpius as she finished her small outburst, as though he were the one personally responsible for her annoyance. She let out a breath with a huff and blew a piece of hair from her face, folding her arms and setting her blazing eyes squarely on him. She waited for him to mock her, to deliver a sarcastic comment about her coasting on her family's name, about not wanting to do anything that mattered. She waited for him to tell her that she ought to follow the example her parents had set and that she was a right insufferable prat for complaining about having a famous family who could likely get her any job she wanted.
Scorpius peered at her for a moment, his eyes flickering from her face to the wall. He dropped his arms to his side and he ran a hand through his hair, leaving it unusually ruffled. "That sounds amazing."
Rose's eyes snapped up to face him. "What?"
He shrugged. "Moving to a different country to live in a little house and run a muggle bookstore? That sounds brilliant."
Rose blinked at him, perplexed. "You don't think it sounds silly?"
Scorpius shook his head. "I don't think so."
Rose swallowed and nodded. "Well, thanks. For not saying it's silly."
They walked in silence for a moment, their footsteps echoing behind them.
"So what departments at the ministry were you looking at?" Rose finally asked, looking over her shoulder.
Scorpius dropped his hands into his pocket. "Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Or else Magical Transportation."
"Oh." Rose tried to look mildly interested in this answer. "Those are both good."
Scorpius eyed her. "You think so?"
"Yeah they both sound...fine."
"Right." Scorpius looked down at his feet.
Rose paused. "I didn't know you were interested in Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."
He shrugged, opened his mouth and then closed it. "I need to keep my options open."
"Whatever for?" Rose demanded, turning to frown at him. "You're one of the top students in the year."
"Yeah, well," he sighed. "There's a lot of people in the ministry who don't love my parents."
"Oh." Rose bit her lip, feeling incredibly stupid then. Of course. It was a stupid question to ask.
Scorpius shrugged again and made no reply.
Rose watched him, his shoulders hunched slightly forward and his eyes downturned. "Malfoy?"
"Hm?" He turned to look at her.
"Er—" Rose tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "Where—where would you work? If you could go wherever you liked?"
The corners of his mouth curled slightly, and for a moment it struck Rose that when he smiled, Scorpius Malfoy looked quite nice. The torchlight danced across his face in a way that highlighted the contours and gave his light eyes a sort of glow, while his smile broke open his usually downcast face. He looked, Rose thought, welcoming. Inviting. Like somebody she could sit down and talk to for a while.
She shook away the thought.
Scorpius brought his hands together and cracked a knuckle, looking in Rose's direction but not quite at her. "I'd like to do something international. Something where I get to talk to people." His eyes flicked towards her. "Though a muggle bookstore would be nice."
Rose smiled. "Flitwick did give me a pamphlet about working with Flourish and Blotts," she murmured.
Scorpius raised his eyebrows. "Really? I didn't think about them."
She nodded. "Yeah. He said they're expanding. Looking for people to do merchandising and work in the shops."
"Hm." His hands returned to his pockets. "That sounds...brilliant."
"Yeah." Rose bit her lip. "Not as exciting as going to Egypt with the bank though."
"I suppose not."
"I can-I can give you the pamphlet if you'd like, you know. If you'd like to look at it."
Scorpius paused and seemed to consider her offer for a moment. His shoulders dropped, though, and he shook his head. "That's alright," he said. "Thanks, though."
Their patrol ended shortly after without incident. Rose and Scorpius walked wordlessly to the heads office to fill out their report. When they reached the doorway, Scorpius paused, one hand on the doorframe, his face turned to look at Rose over his shoulder.
"Weasley?"
"Yeah?" Rose blinked up at him, hoping he wasn't about to ask her to fill out the report on her own.
Scorpius paused, seeming to consider his words carefully. "Do you—how much have you talked to Albus and Lucy? About the jobs, I mean?"
"Oh." Rose bit the inside of her lip. She had talked to Lucy briefly about the career options, of course, though any conversation with just the two of them were still rather stilted. With Albus, Rose had not once mentioned her meeting with Flitwick. "Er—not very much."
"Right," Scorpius muttered, giving a small nod.
"Have you talked to them?" Rose asked, narrowing her eyes.
"No." Scorpius shook his head, the hand coming to rest on the back of his neck. "No, I haven't really mentioned it to anyone. Could you—don't say anything, will you? About the ministry and all that?"
"I won't." The words came out as a whisper, and Rose could feel her cheeks and neck flush. It felt strange, sharing a secret with Scorpius Malfoy. This might have been the longest conversation they'd ever had, Rose reflected. And one where she'd shared things she hadn't even shared with Lucy.
"Thanks." Scorpius nodded and turned to go into the office.
"Malfoy?"
He turned back to face her, silver eyes trained on her face, the shadows across his face making him look older. "Yeah?"
"Why did you talk to me about this, then? I mean—" Rose hesitated, "If you don't want Al and Lucy to know?"
Scorpius paused, rubbed his jaw as he considered her. And then, softly, "I thought you'd understand."