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Another fabulous image by Lady Malfoy at The Dark Arts =)



Ah, sorry for the indecent postings. I'm afraid I signed up for a load of challenges, and they took all my validation time.

But still! Here I am, again, to greet you.

Not mine!








It’s September the First. 

I’m rolling my trunk through the train, trying to find a compartment. Al and James have gone off with their friends, and suddenly I’m panicking. Everywhere seems full. 

Just as I’m about to sit down and wait until we get to Hogwarts, my bottom lip quivering as the thought hits me I’m alone, I spot an empty place. Well, almost. 

There’s a boy in there. I recognise him from somewhere – he seems almost as familiar as walking. 

I push the door open, startling him. “Can I sit here?” I ask softly. He nods, not looking up from the book he’s holding like a lifeline. He’s concentrating hard, making his forehead scrunch up. His messy blonde hair is sticking up like Al’s does, except it looks nice. I like him immediately. I want to be near him. 

I stow my trunk in the luggage rack, pushing it up slowly so it doesn’t fall on my head. I also put the wicker basket with my new tortoiseshell kitten on a seat, making sure it’s secure. When I turn to sit down, the boy has lowered his book and is gaping at me. 

“You’re a Weasley,” he says slowly. 

“Yes,” I frown, “How’d you know?” 

“You have red hair.” 

“Oh.” 

“My father said to stay away from Weasley’s.” 

I raise an eyebrow at the boy, feeling more confident. “Oh? Why?” 

“Because you cause trouble. You’re bad news.” 

I just about wet myself laughing. “No I’m not!” 

The boy scowls at me. “Well, you look funny.” 

“Rose Weasley, pleased to meet you,” I say, holding out my hand. He takes it warily. 

“Scorpius Malfoy.” 

“Oh! So you’re the one I’m supposed to be beating.” I grin. 

Scorpius scoffs. “Not likely!” 

We bicker lightly all the way to Hogwarts, laughing and making fun of old prejudices.
It’s the start of everything Uncle Harry fought for. For unity between old enemies. 

He’s my best friend, along with Olivia, a girl I meet in my new dorm. We’re a gang, always together, until he has to go to bed. But sometimes he sneaks into the 
Gryffindor dorm and we stay up all night, annoying mean Caspar. 

Life’s good. 








It’s September the first again. This time, I’m thirteen and making my way determinedly through the train to the last carriage near the engine, to find Scorp and Livi. We always have that carriage, and it’s our tradition to sit and make fun of our summer each year. 

Livi spent most of the summer at mine, but we didn’t see Scorp once. He wrote a few times at the start of the summer, but then he stopped. I missed it when he did – I held out for those letters. I really do like him, even more than Livi thinks. I love my best friend. How clichéd is that? 

I’m going to chew him out for not writing, that’s for sure. 

When I get to that carriage, it’s just Livi there, looking moody. 

“He left us,” she grumbles, “He left us for those annoying Slytherins.” 

“Well, he has to have friends in his own dorm,” I say positively, but I feel disappointed too. 

He has left, really, and everything is a little subdued. We don’t do much, but sit and talk about him. 

When we’re at Hogwarts, I see him on the Platform, and try to make my way towards him. He disappears into the crowd. 

Livi and I sit through the sorting ceremony miserably, because it’s usually him that lightens the mood, pulling faces at us so we giggle. 

When Professor Macmillan, our new head teacher, dismisses us, I fight my way across the room to him. He has his back to me. 

“Scorp!” I call, and he ignores me, walking towards the dungeons. “Scorp!” 

I grab the back of his robes. He shakes me off and turns round, a sneer on his face. 

“What do you want?” he demands. My face falls. 

“You didn’t sit with us,” I say softly, like the day I met him, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong. Go away.” He turns and leaves. 

Tears prick at my eyes. What gives him the right to be so mean? 

Livi has made her way over to me. “Come on,” she says, “Let’s go. He’ll be fine, just give him some space.” 

As it turned out, all the space in the world didn’t help. He never laughed with us again; just at us.
 








Problem nineteen: I miss Scorp. 

I sit bolt upright in bed. Generally, I store these memories away for moments of crisis, like when I had to write five songs for Dom in a day. 

I did it, but it was one of the most draining things ever. 

Leaning back against my bed frame, the curtains closed so it’s almost like I’m alone, I peer up at the collage that only I can view. 

There’s me, Scorp and Livi in robes too big for us, laughing silently and running around in the grounds by the lake. Occasionally, when I look up at this picture, Scorp has walked out. He’s not there today. 

Then there’s the picture I took, my arm outstretched, of us three on the Platform at the end of second year, when I knew I loved him. I was kissing him on the cheek, smiling, and Livi had her arms around both of us. Second year Scorp and me are currently snogging like I never could’ve done at that age, very passionately. Second year Livi looks bored. 

And then there’s the diamond girls – Caspar, Livi and I. Al took the picture after lots of bribery, and we’re all dressed in beautiful dresses, striking poses far too ridiculous for us. It’s a mess of laughter and silk. 

And then there’s my most treasured picture: Scorpius Malfoy, whispering in my ear. I didn’t develop it magically because I feared it might change and we would be fighting like we were when Caspar took it. We paused for a moment so Scorp could tell me I was a bitch quietly, but the look on my face suggests he’s whispering sweet nothings instead of words I wouldn’t say to my mother’s face. He’s trapped in this picture with his eyes closed, his mouth stuck in a permanent pout. His exact words were: 

“You’re probably the biggest bitch in Hogwarts, or the world.” 

Cas caught him on the ‘probably’ so his lips are in a perfect shape ready to kiss my cheek. Sort of. 

I like to sit and work myself into a state of half bliss, half depression, which works well for my song writing. Speaking of which... 

A brainwave hits me. What better time than sometime past midnight with school tomorrow to write the chords to my song? 

I lean over the side of my bed, pushing past the heavy red fabric, to come face to face with Sassy. 

“Hey, gorgeous,” I breath, and she nuzzles my face. Grabbing her and my school bag, I hurry back under the canopy. 

She’s my cat, okay? She might not act like it, and she does spend pretty much all of her time wandering around with Scorpius, who she loves almost as much as I do. 

When she does show up she does give me a lot of affection, and she knows when to turn up, like when I’m depressed. She probably knew I was looking at the photos! 

Sassy curls up in a ball on my pillow, purring softly. 

I dig around and grab my guitar from my bag, taking the spells off it so it’s regular size.
Strumming it softly, I run through what I already have. A whole two bars – go me. 

“Oh it’s a problem...” I sing softly. 

“Not now Rose!” moans Caspar from across the room. I ignore her, merely placing a blanket of silence around my bed with a wave of my wand. 

I keep strumming softly, working through patterns and rhythms in my head. By what my body clock is saying is almost morning, I’ve finished. 








I wake up to the sound of giggling. “Shuddup,” I mumble, and hear the sound of a camera going off. 

A small, delicate thing brushes against my face. I open my eyes. Sassy is sleeping on my chest, a feat that is near impossible due to the weird position I’m sleeping in, half curled around my guitar and half spread out across the bed. My legs are the former, my upper body the latter. Her tail is flicking across my nose. 

It’s Lucinda with the camera. She looks rather smug. 

“You weren’t doing much,” She reassures me, “But your cat kept purring when you snored.” 

“Thanks,” I say. I don’t mean it, at all. 

“Rose,” Caspar says in a serious voice, “You need to see the Hogwarts Rag.” 

The Hogwarts Rag is an underground newspaper run by one Verity Narciss, an annoying girl I promised an interview to last year when she wouldn’t leave me alone. 

“Give it here,” I say bravely. Livi bites her lip and hands me the newest edition. It only comes out when there’s gossip going, but since there’s gossip everywhere in Hogwarts it can be as much as four times a week. Students love it – including me, when it’s not about me. 

Rose Weasley’s new hottie! 

The headline proclaims. Oh, fabulous. 

Could Rose Weasley be on to a new trend? Yes, says this journalist! The trend the oldest of the Weasley-Granger children is promoting is DATE A NO-ONE. After much investigation, it has been discovered that this ‘no-one’ is one Matthew Grimsby, a cute boy with few flaws. 

“He’s so sweet,” A confirmed source says, “He treats her so well. They make an adorable couple.” 

Is Matthew the new it boy? He does have many credentials to do so – the killer girlfriend, the adorable face and hair, and six pack abs! Will he be on this year’s Hot List? For more detail on this scandalous story and a list of Rose’s previous dates, turn to page 106...
 

“Bloody hell,” I groan, “Bloody Verity—“ 

“My darling!” 

“Speak of the devil,” I say grimly, as the all-pink wonder flounces into the room, like Madam Puddifoot’s was sold to her. She has candy-cotton pink hair, curled into a tight mess that I’m sure used to be frizzalicious, a neon pink dress and pale pink converse shoes on her feet. 

“Rose! The girl of the moment! How are you? Are you up to doing that interview yet?” she gushes, fluttering her long, pink eyelashes. 

“Yes, actually, I’ll do it tomorrow,” I declare. 

“Quidditch practise tomorrow,” Livi says in a scared voice. She knows this will not end well, and is probably building herself up to punch me. 

“After Quidditch,” I add. 

Verity looks amazed. Even more than usual, because she over-plucks her eyebrows and generally looks amazed. 

“Meet me at my office, then!” she says delightedly. Her office used to be a cupboard, but it was expanded to fit in a desk and a really old machine that somehow churns out thousands of copies of Hogwarts Rag that mysteriously land at the end of everyone’s bed, unless they annoy Verity. Then you are, most often, put in the ‘Twats and Twatettes’ section of the paper. I’ve been a Twatette for turning her hair blonde, turning her clothes different colours and not talking to her after a match. But right now, with gossip, I’m in her good books. 

As soon as she skips off, Livi punches me. “You idiot!” she yells, “Why? WHY? She wrote that crap about me!” 

“I feel I should take a stand against the crap she writes. Hot list indeed...” I reply, rubbing my arm. 

“Well—“ 

“Shuddup, Olivia,” Lucinda butts in, tossing back her long chestnut hair, “I need to borrow Rose, without you guys in my way.” 

Huh, this is a rare occasion. Lucinda only ‘borrows’ me when something needs doing fast. 

Caspar and Livi walk out, leaving me still on my bed and Lu towering over me like an evil Greek goddess. 

She’s all curves, and Head Girl to boot. She poses with sexy glasses, and was voted top of the Hot List for girls last year, just above the diamond girls and Scarlett the Slytherin. 

“Halloween ball,” she announces as the door clicks shut, losing all her sassiness as she collapses onto my bed, looking wild and distraught. 

“That’s nice,” I reply. 

“It would have been, but the band dropped out.” She peers up at me. 

“What? No! No, no, no!” 

“Please, Rose, I’m begging you!” she grovels, “Do it and I’ll destroy that photo!” 

I’m torn. Up on stage, where I technically want to be, but in front of Scorp where I don’t want to be, or that picture everywhere? 

“Alright,” I concede, and she hugs me like a possessed aunty, “But I call track listing. Get me a backing band, and we’re good to go. I need two rehearsals and posters shouting my anonymous name everywhere. Do it, and we’re good.” 

“Done and done,” she says breathlessly, “I’ll write your name on my boobs if you like.” 

“No thanks,” I laugh, “But a nice way to spread the word fast.” 

She doesn’t get the joke. 






Ah, so review for cookies or don't for unhappy me =/

Merry Christmas! (In case I don't post again soon.)

xE

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