Silver grey eyes. by
cathilde Chapter 1 : Prologue thing that shouldn't really be a prologue because I might not continue this because I'm bad and continuing things and idek because I'm secretly a cat so yeah.
STORY (JUST PRETEND CAPS ARE AN COZ IDK HOW TO USE THE MAGICAL PASTE AND STUFF THINGIES IN SIMPLE FORMAT AND SORRY IF YOU FEEL HARASSED) :
Hello, my name is Rose Weasley and I have no friends. Or rather, everybody is my friend, but not really. They only want to know me and get me to like them because of my parents. Ron and Hermione Weasley.
The only people who could be my friends, because they understand, are people who are famous for something someone else did;
Albus Potter, who I thought would be my best friend forever, ditched me in first year and he now skips from one girlfriend to the next, skipping classes all the time to go snog them in a broom closet. Not that the teachers mind. No, they just wish they could see the "dashing Mr Potter" more than once or twice a month.
His pretty sister, Lily Potter, is the female version of him, happily batting her eye-lashes and flipping her hair.
James Potter, Quidditch champion, spends his time training, drinking and snogging pretty girls with his "mates".
Even my brother, Hugo Weasley, isn't really a "friend". He obsessively studies and bores everyone around him.
So this is me, Rose Weasley, pretending my life is great.
I'm here to tell you how I made my life better, with the help of the best friend ever. I'll tell you about him too.
I suppose it all started the day I saw him watching me. I was sitting at the Griffindor table. It was very early so I was the only one there. I looked up and the first thing I saw were his silver-grey eyes. In the short second for which I met his gaze, I felt he knew everything about me. He knew how I deceived my friends, my teachers, my family. He knew how I stopped smiling when I thought no one was looking. He knew how I cried myself to sleep like it was my lullaby. And it frightened me that he knew. Because he was my only enemy. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. People said he was just like his father; an arrogant, obnoxious pureblood. He had no friends, not even fake ones.
And that's when I realized how superficial I was being. Because for the last five years, I had always judged him by his surname.
I bump into Kaya Jones from Hufflepuff as I am walking, these thoughts weighing down my shoulders. The blond girl who I remember has just gone out of her way to crash into me is still waiting for an answer to her greeting.
"I'm doing fine." I reply to her question, plastering on the fake smile that I've mastered over the years.
"I was just looking for Albus actually! Know where he is?"
"Try the abandoned charms classroom on the 3rd floor." I tell her, having already consulted the Marauder's map I took from James.
"Isn't it a bit early to be with Serena already!" she complains, scowling and turning towards the staircase.
"Or late." I mutter under my breath.
I've still got an hour until the lessons start, so I go to the library. Most people think I go there to go over lessons, but I don't need to. I remember everything I hear or read. I go there instead to read fantasy books. They whisper about other worlds and places, where people can do extraordinary things. I suppose our world is like that to the muggles. I took the book I was reading at the moment from the shelf. It's called Northern Lights, written by Philip Pullman. I sit down and I see him. He's writing in a blue notebook on the other side of the room. I get up and walk to his table. He dosen't look up, so I sit in the chair opposite him.
"Rose Weasley" he finishes my sentence. It made me wonder if Ravenclaws can read minds, like James says.
"I recognized your voice." he explains, finally looking up from his notebook and fixing me intently with his silver-grey eyes.
"I didn't think it was that different from everyone else's." I say, because it's the only thing I can think of to say. I am not often lost for options of dialogue.
"Every voice is different. Yours is musical when you talk, but sometimes you rush your words together like you're telling a huge lie, and when you're angry it goes all quiet, but the musical note disappears. What I'm curious about is how it sounds when you are happy, but I've never met you happy enough for it to change."
And as he looks at me with those oh-so-grey eyes, I know he knows my secret.
He is the first person to see through my disguise. And it makes me happy. But it frightens me. So I get up and to go class, fleeing from my problems as I have so many times before. I can feel his grey eyes watching me as I leave.
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