Rose was awoken two mornings later (after she was finally allowed to go to sleep) by Al as he was bringing up a plate of toast, a glass of pumpkin juice and a purple potion the consistency of honey.

“Morning sleepy-head, how’re you feeling?”

Rose sat up, fixed her pillows then eyed the potion on the breakfast tray suspiciously.

“I’ve been told you’re not to get any breakfast until you’ve taken the potion so you can stop staring at it and just get it over with.”

Pouting grumpily Rose grabbed the small glass and downed the potion in one gulp.

The flavour was so bitter Rose shuddered with distaste as the thick purple goop slid down her throat.

She shook her head trying to clear her mouth of the foul taste, when her eyes caught sight of a ‘Congratulations, It’s a Boy’ card resting upright on her bedside table.





Congratulations, It’s a Boy?

No one had given birth, especially not her… not to her knowledge anyway.

Then it hit her…

Who else would give her such a ridiculous card?

Malfoy, of course.

Rose picked it up and took another look at it.

‘Congratulations, It’s a Boy’ was written in block letters across the front, which flashed different colours every few seconds.

Underneath the title was a crude baby drawn in Slytherin green ink, it was crying and screaming silently.

As she opened the card to check inside a stick-figure animation started on the left page.





Two stick figures, one with a grossly large and disproportionate green and silver tie and another with two grossly large and disproportionate red plaits started a chase all over the page.

Eventually Stick-Rose caught up to Stick-Malfoy and proceeded to punch him until he was a mangled pile of sticks.

Then she gathered him up and kicked him across to the right page of the card where he landed in a crumpled heap at the start of a paragraph of writing.




The animation you just saw is actually a prophecy. That’s right, I have uncovered the mysteries of divination and seen into the future.
You are going to kick my sorry arse from The Burrow to Hogwarts and back. Don’t worry, I’ve said my final goodbyes and come to terms with my imminent demise. I mean, it’s only fair; I have beaten you for the top spot in Herbology two years running.
But seriously, you have every right to abuse me as you see fit once you’re better. I’m deeply sorry that I smacked a Bludger into the back of your head, but if you’d have seen your Father’s abuse of me, you probably would have thought it was worth it.
It was exactly the kind of Malfoy-humiliation you enjoy most. I’ll give you a reference point: Remember how mad he was when I first visited your house?
Multiply that by seventeen, add fear and anxiety to the mix then a final sprinkling of Malfoy prejudice. You’d have enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed dying your braids that darling shade of fluorescent yellow back in first year.
Anyway, Congratulations, It’s a Boy! I’m sure he’ll make a fine wizard.
p.s. Get well soon. Remember, the sooner you recover, the sooner you get to beat the crap out of me.
p.p.s Yes I did use code names just to mess with you. Bet you 10 sickles you can’t figure it out.





Rose rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face and the giggles that kept escaping her as she read the card revealed her true feelings.

Just as she finished reading, the heap of sticks that was Stick-Malfoy rolled off the top of the paragraph and landed at the bottom before rolling off the edge of the page as the animation started again from the left side of the card.

Rose snorted unattractively before looking up at Al, who was eating her toast.

“Al that was my breakfast!” Rose protested.

“Well you were reading Sam’s card, and it was right in front of me, staring at me really.”

“You and your stomach, Albus Potter.”

Laughing, Al and Rose traipsed down the lopsided steps to the kitchen, but while Al’s mind was only on thoughts of more breakfast, Rose’s was still thinking of Sam’s card – oh and that little shiver in the pit of her stomach was back.


         ~            ~              ~              ~             ~                ~               ~

“You know Rose, you should consider yourself quite an accomplishment.”

Rose and Annie were sitting in the garden of The Burrow sharing a pitcher of pumpkin juice a few days after her accident.

Rose was finally deemed well enough by Nana Molly to have visitors (only one at a time though), and was enjoying her time with Annie laughing at the gnomes who infested the garden.

“And why is that dear Annie?”

“Well you’d agree that Sam doesn’t usually freak out much, right? He’s pretty ‘calm and collected’?”

“Yeah I guess so. It’s just an act though, he always puts on the same face whenever he’s scared or angry. Like when James used to pick on him. It’s this blank kind of stony mask,” she attempted her best imitation before laughing loudly.
“Al told me that was so he wouldn’t lose his temper, to prove everybody wrong about the whole ‘My family are no-good Death Eaters’ thing.”

“Oh okay. I kind of figured he’d adopted some ridiculous societal rule about men never appearing emotional, because it’s weak or vulnerable.”





“Ugh I thought society was over that already,” Annie groaned, rolling her eyes. “There isn’t anything attractive about a guy who can’t express emotion.”

“Well what’s your point anyway? Why am I accomplished?”

Annie sniggered at her, scrunching up her freckled nose – which would have been cute except for the fact that she didn’t reply to Rose’s question.

Annoyed, Rose picked up the pitcher of pumpkin juice before thrusting it threateningly over Annie’s head.

“You’d better hurry up and spit it out you giggling prat, before I dump this over your fucking head.”





Annie lifted her hands nervously to the pitcher of pumpkin juice gently moving it away from light brown locks, but she was still grinning like a maniac.

“Well, I saw him go over to you, the day you got hit. And, well, to be honest, he looked like he was going to cry Rosie.

Like he was about to burst into tears and start bawling – all because of you. I’ve never seen him look like that at anyone before. And I know I haven’t known him all that long, but when you see someone look at another person like that…”

Rose frowned, confused, “What are you trying to say Annie?”

“What I’ve been trying to say all year, Rosie.”

“Rose! It’s time for your potion!” Nana Molly called from the house.
Guffawing again, Annie stood up and helped Rose up, and as they walked back up to the house Rose couldn’t help but feel very confused.

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