The thing is, is that I really wasn’t expecting it.
You see, when you’re 16, and studying for you’re NEWTS, you really don’t anticipate that anything could go wrong.
Well, you try hard not to anyway.
So there I was, in my dormitory, when Dom came in.
Dom is one of my best friends.
Along with Al, Roxy, Valentine and Frank.
I know, it is a bit sad having cousins as best friends.
But hey, when you are in a year full of morons, you can’t afford to be picky about these things.
Where was I?
Revision - dormitory - Dom - yes, I’m back.
I could tell by the expression on her face something was up.
“Rose....” She said shakily.
Her face was pale, her lips cracked, and her eyes were bloodshot. Large rings, the size of quidditch hoops were under her eyes, as she stared at me dismayed.
“Alfie Wood broke up with me.”
I had to get up from my cosy nest of books and blankets, and go over and soothe her.
I get really awkward around crying people, unlike Al who I swear is gay he’s so good, and I just sit there stiffly and rub their back.
I have to get good with crying people a lot when you have someone like Dom as a best friend, who’s practically dated every (decent-ish) boy in the school now.
You get used to it.
Normally I like to lug it all off on Roxy, while I hide away in the toilets. But Roxy was in the Hospital Wing at the moment, with Lily and Lucy from the quidditch accident.
Lily does not like Lucy.
Lucy does not like Lily.
Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor quidditch match.
Nice cousin Roxy interfered to try and stop them.
All three severely injured and in the hospital wing.
I got my Dad’s quidditch gene ( unfortunately) which means I am the one to get up in the ungodly hours of the morning to do quidditch practice and get bludgers thrown at me.
Lucky Hugo got Mum’s genes, and can’t ride a broomstick to save his life.
Dom doesn’t do quidditch either, and she normally sits with Molly and Hugo, screaming their heads off till their voices are hoarse croaks.
Anyway, because I was the one to hug and wait for Dom to cry it out, that meant I was the one for the Hogs Head round. i.e, every time a Potter or Weasley gets dumped/upset about something, the person that gets told first has to buy the round of drinks for everyone in the Hogs Head Hogsmede.
I rarely interact with such occasions, preferring to stay in my nice safe four poster bed, surrounded with wonderful posters of the Chudley Canons, my favourite Quidditch team. Even my pajamas are their colours, a very fetching bright orange.
I’m coming across as quite sad, aren’t I?
As I said to Dad one day: “Me and Uncle Percy are quite similar aren’t we?”
Dad insisted we are nothing alike, and still does to this day, though I don't know what everyone has against Uncle Percy. Everybody loves a good smarty pants, don't they?
However, it did mean that I had to force Dom to take a shower, and to spread the word to my family it was Hogs Head Night because Dom got dumped.
There’s the hard way and easy way to go round spreading the word to the Clan.
Hard way: Going round to each individual cousin and telling them.
Easy way: Finding Lily Potter and telling her.
I love my cousin to bits, don’t get me wrong, but she is a bit of a.....gossip gal, if you get my drift.
You tell her something at 9.00pm, just before you head up to your dorm.
8.00am tomorrow - BAM! The whole school knows.
However, in rare and various occasions, such as this one, it came to my advantage.
Me, Lily (who refused to not go even though she had a broken arm and a few smashed teeth), Al, Dom (obviously), Hugo, Valentine and Frank all went.
Al was sad Scorpius couldn’t go, because he was at a funeral of some Aunt’s. Everyone else was quite relieved, including me. Did I want a slime ball like him interrupting my cousins night of fun? No thank you, I did not.
We went through the passage legendary Uncle George showed us, and managed to get away with it.
Frank didn’t, being Frank, the oldest of Professor Longbottom’s kids.
He ran in to the statue that we had to move over.
Which is why he found himself, two hours later, in a bed next to Roxy in the wing.
In the long run, I think he’s glad he didn’t come, considering what happened to me.
Once in the Hogs Head, I settled down and immediately pulled out my Volume II of a Quodpot User’s Guide, from the extendable bag that Mum got me for my sixteenth birthday.
Valentine immediately came and joined me.
Did I mention? Valentine is stunning.
She has brown hair, long and falling down her back with no split ends whatsoever. She has spotless skin, with these brown melting eyes and perfectly straight teeth.
Her and Al are in love, but neither of them know it yet.
“Hiya, Rose, mind if I join you?” She sat down next to me and started avidly biting at her nails, occasionally stopping to take a swig of fire whiskey.
She kept on glancing in Al’s direction, where he was chatting to Lily and Hugo, using obscene hand gestures to help him explain.
Dom was in the corner of the bar, snogging the face of this random bloke none of us had ever seen before.
“Why’s that man staring at us?” I frowned, eyeing up this pale dude suspiciously. He was hunched over his fire whisky, the pales of his eyes bright in the bleak dim pub.
“He’s staring at you, not me,” Valentine said with a smile that reached her pointy elfish ears.
“Red has an admirer,” Valentine sung over at Hugo, flicking her gorgeous hair behind her back, and pulling at her hoody.
I wouldn't believe that for a second though - neither of us looked very glam for a start.
I wore a pair of green jeans, with a baggy Weird-Sisters t-shirt I was pretty sure was Fred’s, and a gryffindor scarf. Valentine is muggle born, which means she keep me up to date with all the muggle fashion, I keep her up to date with all the wizard fashion, which is basically just look as old fashioned and odd as possible. The wizard fashion doesn’t exactly change.
Even so, I’d never had anyone like look at me before.
Not in that way anyway.
Valentine had people practically drooling over her while she ate her breakfast, and she was blind to them all. Al really didn’t know how lucky he was.
The guy wasn’t my type anyway, not that I’d had any boyfriends before.
He was way too pale and ghostly for my liking with black eyes that seriously didn’t match his white skin. He could do with some of Dom’s “Fast Action Tan” that she sprays on in the summer, because she has pale ginger hair which results in skin like mine. Extremely pale.
I didn’t like the way the guy was hungrily looking at me, so I carried on reading.
A boffin was sure to put him off ( Ignore what I said earlier about everybody loving a smartypants. Nobody loves a smarty pants for the remainder of this evening. After this evening, everybody will love a smartypants.)
“Er, Rose, he’s till looking at you. Do you want me to like, go tell the bartender or something?” Valentine asked worriedly, finishing her fire whiskey and going back to nibbling at her nails.
“No, I’ll be alright thanks Val. Maybe in a bit,” I muttered absentmindedly.
“Alright then,” She said, though she didn’t sound 100% sure about it.
She did some more creepy stalking of Albus Potter, before taking a gulp of her second glass of fire whiskey, and sliding off her chair to go talk to them.
It was me versus the creepy guy.
I made my eyes trail across the words, making it look like I was reading whilst I lent down to my bag and pulled out my wand.
I clutched it under the table, my grip tightening as he got up.
He couldn’t be serious? He was coming over to talk to me. I tried to shoot warning signs at Val. In fact, I gave her the thecreepyguyiscomingovertomewhatshallIdopleasehelpme look.
Being the loving best friend she is, she ignored it. He came over and sat in her seat.
He just sat there, staring at me.
I turned back to my book, trying to get myself lost in it with my sweaty fingers all the while clasping my wand
“That’s Val’s seat,” I managed to croak as hoarsely as Dom after a quidditch match, lifting my eyes long enough off the page to glare at him. He just shrugged dismissvely.
“Well is she coming back?” He demanded in a composed icy voice, like breath on a frosty morning.
“Yes,” I lied defiantly, trying to put on my most matter-of-fact voice like the one my mum does.
“Good. I’ll have you all to myself then, Rose Weasley.”
And when he said my name, he lent in across the table and whispered it. His breath smelt gross, but it sent shivers down my spine all the same.
“How do you know my name?” I quizzed shakily, my toes scrunched up in my boots underneath the table.
I didn't know whether to be impressed or freaked out.
“Oh, don’t try lying to Buster, Rose. Buster knows.”
I opened my mouth to cry out, but the words escaped me, and he lent in even closer.
I whipped my wand out from under the table, but he suddenly had a tight grip on it, and he bent it back with a sickening crunch. This time I did cry out in agony, and I don’t know whether my friends just didn’t hear or chose to ignore me, but they didn’t help me. Agony surged through my arm, a wave of nausea sweeping over me.
Buster was dangerously close to me now, and for a heart racing few seconds I thought he was going to kiss me. The throbbing in my wrist wouldn’t stop. I swung my other wrist from under the table, delving in for a surprise attack. If this creepy Mc.Creepster wanted a piece of Red, he was going to have to wait.
Unfortunately, he caught that one too.
“Don’t fight it, Rose Weasley.” He snarled like a fierce blood hound, making me squirm uncontrollably, and baring his canines. Yes, you read right, canines. Proper vampire canines.
If he thought he was going to turn me in to a vampire without a fight, then he was wrong.
Panicking, I head butted him in the nose, which wasn’t what he was expecting to be honest.
The musky aroma hung in the thick air, full of heavy breaths and the echo of drunken laughter. Buster was still recovering, shallow rapid breaths, while I jumped out my velvet chair, picking up my book. Just as soon as he looked up with a murderous look in his eye, I swung the book at his face.
My heart was beating so loud I was scared I was going to have a heart attack, like Granddad Granger did once, but Buster seemed to hear my blood pulse, and gave me a rather malicious grin, nursing his swollen nose. In those three seconds I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes - a waddling red-headed toddler, a girl zooming around on a toy broom, 11 and crying to James because she didn’t get in the quidditch team, her mother hugging her so tightly she nearly died when she got her OWL results.
He lunged at me, impossibly fast, and I was down on the ground before you could say Merlin’s most pink lacy underwear.
I remember a rather nasty headache to join the queue of pain for Rose Weasley along with my wrist.
A swimming pool of black, wobbling darkness in front of my eyes, and then I passed out.
I woke up with a nasty head ache and the feeling like my insides had been mashed, microwaved (I didn’t know what that meant even though Grandpa Weasley had tried to explain to me multiple times), sawed in to pieces and then frozen. I tried to turn my head, but it jolted painfully, making my eyes sting with tears. I rested back on the hard ground, my legs like water. Gathering courage, I pushed off from the ground and sat up, my head spinning.
“There, that’s not so bad, is it?” I murmured to myself, in an attempt to try and calm my throbbing wrist and pounding heart.
I focused my blurry eyes on the bulletin board at the back of the weird room I was in.
“Arisham Community Centre and Church,” I read out loud. The name Arisham seemed to stick in my mind, slowly sinking in the way a beach ball sank in quick sand. I recognized it faintly, though I was too exhausted to think now.
No thinking. Just getting. Getting back.
I was still sitting up - quite an achievement in my case, and I could easily stand up from there, because sitting up is half of it isn’t it?
I’d like to say that was true.
I tried to stand up, but my legs were like jelly, wobbling all over the place, and I just fell straight over again. The floor was good, it was my second choice. As I lay there, I thought jumbled thoughts, all twisted and scrambled. I thought about Mum at home, and for some reason I started to cry, proper hot salty tears of fear, panic and pain came tumbling down my cheeks. I kept on crying till my eyes were as dry as the Sahara Desert, at which point I was so tired I drifted off in to a light and troubled sleep.
This time when I woke up, there was a gnawing pain in my stomach like there was some ravenous beasts from the Care of Magical Creatures text books Val studies. Val is amazing at COMC, like the best since Luna Scamander. Her and Lorcan are the best in the class.
I lazily opened one eye, pleased at what I saw. Two people behind a counter and two massive saucepans, with people all around them chatting and eating. Brilliant - free food! I opened the other eyes, a ragged holey blanket falling off my shoulders as I stood up. My wrist started to scream at me, as I drunkedly staggered over to the counter. Two sympathetic smiles greeted me as I picked up a rusty metal bowl and spoon from beside the big bowl of brewing soup.
“Aw look, Gladys - she’s only a little lass,” One of them said, the one in bright purple jumper and mustard yellow trousers.
I mean, I don’t have a fashion sense but I know those two are a bit......bright.
“Tomato soup deary?” Asked the other one, pouring some in to my bowl with piercing blue eyes.
“Yes please,” I stuttered.
I scanned the room once more, and gasped in surprise.
This was for homeless people.
But I didn’t look homeless - I looked down at myself.
Torn jeans, tatty blood stained top, mud caked nails, frizzy hair that stood out at every angle - I looked beaten, worn and scraped.
Worse than that, I didn’t even know how I’d got like this.
“Yes please,” I managed to choke, trying to gulp down a scream that threatened to escape me.
“Here you go sweetheart,” The one with blue eyes said with a weak smile, handing me my full and steaming bowl.
I gave her a grateful smile, incapable of words, and dipped my spoon in the red sea. Blowing on it delicately, I brought the spoonful to my mouth, my stomach growling ravenously. I put it my mouth, only to feel a tremor shake my body as I spat it out again.
The most disgusting thing I have ever experienced to this day - tomato soup.
“Didn’t you like the soup, little lass?” Gladys asked, while Blue-eyes went to go and fetch a mop.
“Sorry,” I replied, sprinting out the room as fast as I could.
I didn’t know where I was going, but I managed to bump in to someone on the way out.
“Watch where you’re going,” The person muttered, scrunching up his nose, probably at the way I smelt ( not exactly like a bag of roses.)
The boy took a step back, and my eyes reluctantly were dragged from the floor tiles.
“Wait a minute....Rose?”
My eyes shot up in alarm at the person.
No please, I begged mentally. Not him, anyone but him.
“Rose, why are you hanging out with tramps? You’re not a tramp are you?” The boy asked, ending the last question with a smirk.
“No,” I said said miserably, looking down forlornly at my battered converse.
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same of you, Malfoy,” I said, putting a hand on my hip and pursing my cracked lips.
“ My aunts funeral,” Scorpius said, the smirk fading.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked, trying to push past him.
“No,” he blocked my way. “ What are you doing here?”
I sighed impatiently.
“You don’t actually care about me do you Malfoy?”
His arms instantly fell to his side, and the familiar cocky sneer returned to his lips.
“No,” He snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself Weasley, it’s just...” He freezed, his eyes narrowing. “Is your wrist meant to be that lopsided? Are you injured Weasley?”
I didn’t reply, biting my lip anxiously, while he lent forward and bent my wrist back.
A wave of agony flooded through it, and I winced.
“You are,” He said with a triumphant grin, folding his arms across his crisp white shirt.
“Well done, Sherlock, what do you want? A friggin medal?”
“What are you doing here, Weasley?” Scorpius asked curiously, choosing to ignore the last statement and cocking his head to the side inquisitively.
“All I remember was this creepy pale stalker and then his broke my wrist and then....” I paused, moistening my parched lips. “..I woke up here.” Scorpius looked around thoughtfully. “How would a one-night-stand end up here?”
“I don’t drink, Malfoy,” I said aggressively, trying to push past him.
He sidestepped me easily, still blocking my exit.
I rolled my eyes.
“Where are you trying to go, Weasley?” Scorpius questioned innocently, laughter sparkling in his eyes.
“I...” I started, but he had a point. How could I get to Hogwarts? No car, phone, and I wasn’t even near home. I realized my jaw was hanging open, and I shut it quickly, my cheeks flushing a light pink.
“I’m going to go,” I said, pointing towards the door, stubbornly sticking my chin up.
This time I did push past him, shoving him squarely in the chest and stalking past him.
He hurried back after me, a little pout on his lips.
“Not in that state, you aren’t, Weasley.”
“And why’s that?” I quizzed, an eyebrow raised.
“One, you’re injured. Second, you’re probably hungry. Third,” He sniffed the air in front of me and wrinkled his nose up in disgust. “ you smell.”
I was won ever on all of those things. I could do with a decent healing spell, glass if water and a shower.
“Fine, Malfoy, you win. Take me back to your slaughter house.”
He straightened his black tie with a faint smile, puffing out his chest slightly.
“I’ll show you the way, Weasley....”
As we disapperated, which he had a license for and I didn’t, there was a sort of thoughtful silence. He was avoiding my gaze, holding out his arm curtiously, and not even wincing slightly as I pinched him and squinted as we spun through the air. The blurs of the landscape, the whirls and flashes of sky blue and murky grey oceans, as I twirled through the air like a drunk ballerina - extremely undignified. I landed queasily on my feet at a gravel drive way, leading up to a huge 3 story house with an electric blue front door. Scorpius staggered over to the door, fumbling for his keys in his pocket as I made my way up behind him. It took him a while to root around in his smart blazer pocket, so it gave me plenty of time to examine the blue door. It had a knocker of two snakes entwined around each other, their jade green eyes glinting malevolently at me. I shuddered and looked away again, just as Scorpius pulled out the jingling muggle object from deep within his pocket.
“Finally,” I muttered, stepping inside the hallway behind him.
I stood there and gaped at the hall, stretching on further than the eye could see. A heavily-gold framed portrait hung on the wall, of Scorpius when he was about three on his mothers knee, grinning widely at the painter.
“You can go in you know,” Scorpius chuckled, throwing the key on the mat and shoving his hands inside his trouser pockets.
Still gasping, I stared at the tired and weary face of his mother, huge rings under her eyes and a weak smile. My eyes moved over his father, Draco, his blond mop swept back and not sticking up like Scorpius’s, his rough unshaved blond stubble sticking out against his black suit.
“We had a muggle paint it,” Scorpius said bleakly beside me, and I jumped, almost forgetting he was there.
“You were cute,” I contemplated, my stomach giving a painful lurch which shot a jab of pain down my wrist.
“Come on, Weasley,” Scorpius said softly, leading me in down the hall and in to a massive kitchen. “Let’s get you fixed up.”
I nodded my head, but even that made it reel dizzily. I suppressed a yawn, as my tired eyes flittered over the emerald tiles of the kitchen, the massive agar, and the old house elf bent over a huge cooking pot.
“Flitch,” Snapped Scorpius, a new edge of harshness in his tone. “ Sort Rose with something out - I’ve got to go make some calls.”
I stood there like a lemon in the door way, until Snitch hobbled over to the fridge, bringing out some ingredients like cheese, milk and eggs.
”Is an omelet alright ma’am?” He asked in a pleasant but annoyingly squeaky voice.
I thought back to the boiling tomato soup, and ran a hand round my neck, where my hair had stuck to my neck with sweat.
“No, thank you, please can I just have something to drink?” I croaked, the thirst throbbing at me now, along with the distant drone of my wrist.
“Anything in particular, ma’am? Pumpkin juice, Hellebore and Elderbress squash...”
I shook my head gently, a smile tugging at my lips as I walked over to a plain wooden bench next to an ancient wooden table, plonking myself heavily down on it.
“Call me Rose, and anything, thanks,” I said, flashing him a quick smile.
His footsteps clattered around the kitchen as he hurried to the fridge (so much for Malfoys being against muggle objects) and he brought out an emerald gleaming bottle with a handwritten label.
“Master Scorpius’s own concoction, ma’am,” Flitch said proudly handing it to me.
“Rose,” I corrected, admiring the bottle in my hands, the cold glass against my buzzingly warm skin.
I felt a surge of thirst as I tipped it up to my mouth and started to drink.
At first, it was like a faint longing, but I grew more and more thirsty as I gulped it down, the need for it indescribable. It was like coming in for a rest from Quidditch on a hot summers day, the icy water addictive. It was like taking a sip of water after a duel, after that heart-thudding adrenalin rush.
“Wow, what did you give her?” Scorpius said, impressed at the speed of my drinking.
“One of the master’s potions,” Flitch replied, wringing his hands together.
“Which one?’ Asked Scorpius, drumming his fingers rhymithically on a work bench.
“The Cranberry and pumpkin one.”
“But mum finished that one up...”
“It was in the bottle, master.”
“No, I put......” Scorpius paled, his eyes wide in fear, and his fingers stopped mid-drum.
There was a deafeningly loud silence in the room.
“You put what?” I growled, hiding behind the bottle. “What did you put in the bottle?” I repeated through gritted teeth.
Scorpius was amazing at potions, knowing him I was about to turn in to a blast ended skrewt or something. Don’t be impressed by that causal reference to a magical beats, I only know what they are because Lorcan has a pet one called Nathaniel.
“Chimera blood,” gulped Scorpius. “I put chimera blood in the bottle ready for my Silence-giving potion.”
I lowered the bottle, frozen in horror.
Scorpius’s eyes widened even more when he looked at my face.
“Rose....” He started.
I sprinted past him, holding back sobs as I ran to the drawing room. A choked cry escaped me as I looked in to the mirror at my reflection. The girl I saw there had a deathly pale face, eyes bright and shining, hair a frizzy ginger mess, with crimson liquid dribbling down the corners of her mouth.
I bit back a scream.
“Rose, are you a vampire?” Scorpius questioned, not even bothering to cover up his shaky and uneven voice.
“Yes,” I said in a small voice, the answer I’d be dreading ever since I’d woken up in the Community Centre.
I spun round, wiping the blood away fiercely from my mouth.
“It happened last night,” I protested, trying to excuse myself for some reason. “I got kidnapped, and then everything went black, and I woke up in the centre...” I trailed off, studying his scared face. I took a step forward, towards him. “Nobody else knows-”
“-apart from Flitch-” He helpfully cut in.
“Apart form Flitch,” I added with a roll of my eyes. “ You must promise not to tell anyone,” I said, my voice firm and colder than I’d imagined.
“I promise,” Scorpius said, with a suspicious gaze and an eyebrow warily raised.
Only Scorpius Malfoy and his house elf knew, and I was determined to not let anyone else know.
Little did I know how hard that would prove to be.
Author's note: Hi there! This is a new story I came up with, and if you have time, just drop a couple of sentences in tot he box below, thoughts, likes/dislikes, e.t.c. Anything would be useful! Thank you for reading :D