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Rosaline by feathers101
Format: Short story
Chapter 1: Chapter i
Banner and chapter image by me. Banner of Lana del Rey, Keira Knightley and Aaron Johnson.
Chapter image of Lana del Rey.
People are often quick to label you as "bad" or "evil".
There are many different types of "bad" people, they say. Me, I'm what some people might call "manipulative".
Not that I do anything wrong. I just like to be prepared for these little situations.
"No Scorpius, I'm sorry. I just can't go out with you" I whispered, biting my lower lip slightly. I saw his eyes follow this movement, focusing on my teeth pressing gently into my round, red bottom lip. I noticed him gulp slightly at the movement.
You know, just a regular Thursday afternoon at Hogwarts. Standing behind the tapestry of trolls learning to dance, with Scorpius Malfoy quite literally begging you to give him a chance.
"Why not?" he whispered, ruffling his not-quite blonde hair, just the way he often did when he was nervous or upset. Not that I usually noticed that or anything. I wouldn't.
"You know I like you a lot" I whispered, looking down to hide my face from his. I allowed my long, cherry red waves to fall in front of my face, obscuring it and the features I knew were arranged in an unwilling smirk. I knew perfectly well that he didn't know I felt that way. The fact that there was a gap of silence for nearly twenty seconds proved that.
It took a lot to shut him up. Trust me.
"…You do?" he finally managed, his voice surprised.
I nodded, eyes still on the ground, letting him watch my hair ripple. I knew he loved my hair. I often saw him watching it when it got caught in the breeze or when the sun shone through it. He was fanatical about it, obsessed with how it swayed.
I felt his hand gently go to it and slowly pull the curtain of locks back from my face so he could see me. His hand then went to my chin, and he lifted my head up so I was looking at him. He stared into my brown eyes as if he was trying to memorize them.
"I love you" he promised suddenly, his voice rough and hoarse with emotion. I was genuinely thrown. I stared up at him in confusion.
Well, that was certainly unexpected.
I found myself staring at him, utterly lost for words. Which wasn't just a rare occurrence. It literally never happened. I always had something to say.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again, staring straight into his beautiful silver eyes. They couldn't help the situation at all. They were like pools of mercury, or like staring at the molten iron core of the earth. They seemed to swirl and change with his emotions. Right now, they were like stormclouds traversing the moon.
He seemed to sense my confusion, and a smirk spread across his face. I silently cursed myself.
I had had it all going so well. Ultra cocky, overconfident, incredibly popular, way too intelligent Scorpius Malfoy had been closer to nervous, lovesick wreck the last few weeks.
All thanks to me.
I had him at the point where I could twist him round my finger, like a strand of the glossy hair he loved so much. I was in control, and I was leading him just the way I wanted him.
I'd turned what had probably been for him only a little crush into an obsession over the last few weeks. I'd made him obsessed with me.
It had been hard work. I'd spent weeks making sure he saw me often, saw my good sides, saw me looking my best. I think it was fair to say it had been working. He spent his whole time watching me. He worshipped me.
By the time I gave in- and it would be gracefully, and it would be elegantly- he would want nothing more in the world than to be with me.
And I would grant him his wish, and mine too, like some twisted fairy godmother.
And he would never let me go. Men are fickle creatures. If you don't play their game, you'll never win.
And now I'd gone and blown it all.
In one moment, all my carefully cultured, lovingly created control was gone. I had no response. He had stumped me. It would not do. I could not let him wreck this, this future I had created. This future for us.
I was not willing to have some two minute affair with him. Anything that happened was damn well going to last. And if I had to twist him into doing what was best for us, then I would. And without regret.
He lent forward to kiss me, obviously feeling that the deal was done. His eyes had closed and a faint smile was on his lips. His hands were already moving towards my hips. The war was over, put your weapons down, Scorpius had won.
I pressed my hands against his chest, pushing him back slightly and separating us. My hands unwillingly clenched the silky folds of his shirt. The couple of inches space I had managed to create would have to do.
"No" I whispered. I was ashamed to admit that my eyes were starting to shut too. I had to drag them open and force myself to concentrate.
I could feel more than hear his growl of annoyance. He stepped even further back out of my space, too far. I felt cold.
"Scorpius" I whispered, a small part of me upset at his reaction, another part rejoicing at the effect I had. I tried to step forward but he stopped me by putting his hand on my shoulder.
"Don't" he warned, looking furious. His eyes were stormy and he looked like he wanted to punch something. Or maybe someone. Such as little old moi.
"I don't fucking well understand you, Rose" he swore, his voice getting desperate and angry. So much for me loosing control.
I resisted the urge to smirk or giggle with delight. I was winning the game. I had him right back where I wanted him to be.
He turned on his heel and ran. I allowed myself a little victory smile. I had won this battle; now for the war.
I caught him glancing at me dozens of times during classes the next day. He had a determined, desperate look in his eye. I knew exactly what he was planning.
I could read him like a book.
He was going to have one last go. He would do something rash. He was going to try and convince me, he would give it all one more try.
What he didn't know was, when he did have his last go, I would fall at his feet. I would feed his ego, convince him he'd done the impossible, captured the unattainable.
And I knew when he was planning it for. My cousin James was hosting one of his famous parties. I always attended, and tonight would be no exception.
I would see him there, no doubt about it.
Tonight, his every wish would come true. Just wait, Scorpius darling. Just a few more hours.
The Slytherin dormitories were always calm and quiet, even before parties. My three dorm shares and I prepared in a relaxing sense of tranquility.
Maybe it was why Slytherin girls always looked better than the others; while others flapped around, we did everything just exactly as it needed to be done.
You could call us "practical".
But most people preferred "bitches". Shame.
The three girls in my dorm were my closest friends. There were another five Slytherin girls in our year, who shared another dorm. But nobody likes those five anyway.
Carmen Zabini was the oldest and tallest of us. She had dark, clear skin and long, straight, glossy black hair. Her father was Blaise Zabini and her mother Pansy Parkinson. She was aristocratic and aloof; many people hated her for it.
She was also ambitious to the core and highly intelligent. She played for the Slytherin quidditch team; she was one of the chasers. She was ludicrously athletic and she played quidditch like it was gymnastics.
Penelope Flint was also a chaser for the Slytherins. Where Carmen was dark, Penelope was the colour of parchment. Bleached parchment. Her mother was Adelaide Murton and her father was Marcus Flint, a professional quidditch player.
Penelope was sharp and a highly talented dueler. She was also slightly... heartless. A borderline psychopath. Most of the school were afraid of her, and for good reason. Give her a wand and she could do anything. Preferably kill you.
…But she'd never killed anyone, obviously, otherwise she'd be in Azkhaban, not here in Hogwarts. She was nearly as dangerous on a broom as she was with a wand. At least you could be thankful she wasn't a beater. If she was, she would have killed somebody by now.
Her waist length, perfectly straight white hair was always pulled straight back and high on her head in a ponytail. She never took it down in public.
Ingrid Borbachyov was probably the most beautiful girl in Hogwarts. At least half the male population in Hogwarts were in love with her; the other half had gone off her after a (usually brief) stint of being her boyfriend. She had long, golden-blonde curls and lightly tanned skin.
Her Russian mother Anastasia had been a model for witch weekly when she met Ingrid's father, a Russian billionaire aristocrat from one of the oldest pureblood families in the world. His family had prided themselves on having perfect blood since before the twelve hundreds.
Ingrid's parents caused a huge sandal about twenty years ago by eloping and moving to England. Anastasia Borbachyov was probably the most infamous social climber of the last few decades.
Ingrid was proving to be just like her mother. She liked men who she could boss around, like her current boyfriend Jake Goodall. The poor guy was a Ravenclaw who was basically just working as Ingrid's schoolbag carrier. He'd had the position of "boyfriend" for about a month now, but you could tell his time was coming to an end.
I gave him a week more, tops.
I was the strangest one of the Slytherins, really. You could look at anybody else's family tree and see why they ended up here, but me?
A Weasley in Slytherin. People had found the idea hilarious at first. But I, Rose Weasley, had fit in there so well that people had been forced to conclude that that was where I belonged. The idea of me in Gyrffindor was laughable. If I had to be anywhere else, it would probably be Ravelclaw. But I wouldn't really belong there either.
Every other one of my numerous relatives were in Gryffindor, bar one or two Ravenclaws and my little brother, who ended up in Hufflepuff. Father had been so set on us being Gryffindors; he ended up with a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin. Ha.
I guess people just didn't think of my as a Weasley anymore. I didn't really look like one anyway.
My hair was red, but certainly not orange. It was a deep, intense colour far removed from the usual Weasley ginger. It was wavy and long, but just stopped before frizzy. My eyes were brown, like my mothers, but unlike all my relatives, I had no freckles. My pale skin was without those revolting dots which seemed to plague my family.
So where did I get my Slytherininess? Mother was ambitious, but in a different way. She climbed her way slowly up the ministry ladder, working hard on stupid jobs with the constant belief that it would pay off. And then, when she wanted children, she gave it all up. Overnight, she gave up everything.
I'm often disappointed about how she could do this. Father had a good job, yes, but compared to mother he had no skills to speak of. She could have gone somewhere, if she'd tried.
I wouldn't make that mistake.
In direct contrast: Blaise Zabini, Carmen's dad. Marched into the ministry one day, brimming with confidence, intelligence and arrogance. He marched out an hour later as deputy head of the magical financial sector.
He just walked in there, demanded the job, and they fired the guy who had it. All the stationary was changed to "B.Z." by the next morning. He stayed there about a month before being made Minister of British Wizarding Foreign Policy.
That man is a legend. We all take inspiration. If he isn't minister of magic after the next election, there's no hope for anyone. Carmen said he might not run, though; it might be better for him to just be head of finance, foreign policy and the Wizengamot.
These are the sort of people I'm friends with. People who are ambitious, who work hard and who succeed. Not people who spend their lives being nice and get nothing in return.
Scorpius was just one of the steps of my plan for my future. He was pretty much perfect. His family were ludicrously wealthy, obviously. They lived in a huge mansion in the countryside. I've been there once, a couple of years ago. It was for a ministry lunch that dad was attending.
It took me about two minutes to fall in love with the place. They had white peacocks. Peacocks. I love them so much.
Scorpius was bound to have a brilliant future. With his money, family, looks, brains, ambition, charm… He would probably go into politics when he was older. For now, I knew he was planning on the ministry.
He was famous for his charm. His grin was splashed across every other page in the witch gossip magazines, along with my cousins. He was a born celebrity. He played as a chaser on the Slytherin team and was utterly amazing.
I may be a little biased. I'd say he'll be captain.
He was, I will admit, also a bit of a womanizer. He'd gone out with a lot of the girls in Hogwarts already but nobody seemed able to hold his attention for long. He'd gone out with Ingrid for about two weeks in fourth year, which was two years ago.
Those two weeks had certainly been memorable. They were a match made in hell; two overly strong and very much conflicting personalities. It had ended up with an impromtu duel in the great hall. Needless to say, those two should be kept as far from each other as possible.
After that, Ingrid had decided she only liked men who would do as told.
In my (usually accurate) opinion, Scorpius was the best looking man in the school. His blonde hair, grey eyes….
He was really tall, around six foot three. His skin was like marble; pale, radiant and perfectly smooth. He had the face of a Greek god. His jaw was strong, his cheekbones high and a long, straight nose that looked like it had been chiseled from rock.
He had a general sense of royalty; a sense of entitlement that was so deep rooted and came across into every aspect of his being to the extent that most people thought of him as some sort of god or higher power.
I'd decided our futures would be intertwined on the first day of first year. I had been standing on the train platform when father had pointed him out to me. He'd said some bizarre comment about staying away from Malfoys, which I had immediately decided to do the complete opposite of.
Scorpius had asked me out many times before. He'd liked me at the start of third year, the end of fourth year and on eight different occasions in fifth year. His interest had been getting a lot stronger over the last few years, I'd noticed. I'd always politely refused him before.
I didn't want to go out with him too early in our school careers.
My plan had been for us to get together fairly late on, and for us to last. I doubted anybody had a chance to stay together if they started in third year.
It had been hard for me to refuse someone over and over again when I didn't want to, but it was necessary. It would be better in the long run.
I don't know how my parents had ever thought I even had a chance of being a gryffindor. Father had been convinced, in that idiotic was of his, that I would be just like him. A perfect, kind little gryffindor.
It was the night of the party. The party where Scorpius and I would finally get together. It was only the beginning of sixth year, we would have the entire two years together. I had been planning this moment for years, so of course I had the perfect clothes.
I was to wear a silver-grey silk dress. It was short, but not too short, with narrow shoulder straps of grey lace. I was going to wear black heels with it and let my red waves fall down over one shoulder. It was utterly stunning looking.
Carmen, Ingrid and Penelope were all dressed beautifully too. They all had ridiculously rich parents who supplied them with the best clothes available. The dresses in this room were probably worth most people's yearly paychecks.
We walked, shivering, to the room of requirement, where the party was being held. The corridor was eerily silent, and our footsteps reverberated. It was freezing cold. I cast warming spells around us to stop us goose bumping. We were slightly late, of course.
Fashionably late, as some old people would say. I bet most people's grandmothers say that. I wouldn't know.
But anyway, nobody liked going to a party before it had started properly.
We opened the door finally and slipped inside, trying not to make two much noise closing the door behind us. Parties still weren't strictly allowed and the corridors were so silent.
The darkness, warmth and noise hit us like a wall. Lights were flashing and I could barely make out who people were. A small bar on one side of the door was serving drinks.
Carmen marched towards it and got a huge glass of firewhiskey. She knocked it back in one gulp. It was alright for some. Alcohol didn't affect her much. Ingrid settled herself on a high bar stool with her legs crossed elegantly, dangling her stiletto-clad feet.
She informed us, yelling to be heard over the music, that if we saw her boyfriend Jake Goodall, he was to be informed that they were, as of this point, finished. Ingrid had evidently decided to go on the search for someone else. I saw her winking a someone across the room. I don't think she'd ever been single for more than an hour.
Penelope stayed with them when I left to search the crowds for Scorpius. It was so difficult to see or hear anything in there. I could have walked past him a dozen times and not have noticed.
I did bump into Jake. I gave him Ingrid's message, which didn't bother me at all to do; I'd done it a couple of times before. One stupid guy had broken down in tears. Luckily, Jake didn't act like that; I think he'd been expecting it; he just nodded and started kissing some Hufflepuff girl.
By now, I was getting worried. Where the hell was Scorpius? He had to be here. I was getting almost panicked when I finally spotted him across from me. He was chatting to someone, but I couldn't see who.
The lights flashed white, and I saw who it was.
It was Lily, my cousin in the year below. She was a gryffindor. If I had to use a colour to describe Lily, it would be beige.
She was the epitome of dull. She was a boring, nerdy, goody goody pushover. She wasn't even one of those fun nerds who did crazy things. She was the sort who sat there and disapproved of everything.
She even looked dull. She had brown hair, medium length, medium tone. It was neither wavy nor straight. Her skin wasn't pale but it wasn't tan either. She had tiny freckles all over her face and arms, like some sort of bizarre plaque. She didn't play quidditch or do anything fun. Really, it was a mystery to me how she wasn't the daughter of Percy.
And then, when I was just about to rescue Scorpius from her soul crushing presence, he kissed her.
And all my hopes, wishes and ambitions died in that moment.
I was running from the party, tears streaming down my face. It was freezing but I did nothing to stop it. Even if I had tried, I doubted I would still be able to remember the spell.
...Not that I was stupid, I get straight Os obviously.
The image burning into my mind was a terrible one. I had been unable to look away when they'd kissed. But the worst part was just after the kiss. They seperated, and he had looked at her.
Looked at her with adoration, in a way I'd never seen him look at anyone before. It was like he'd..he'd…
I was unable to comprehend what was happening. I managed to just about drag myself behind a statue before I broke down completely.
I spent nearly half an hour there, trying to regain control. Eventually, I forced myself to get up, my legs buckling under me. I walked awkwardly along the corridor, stumbling in the heels. My only thought was getting back.
Everything was over. In one night, I was crushed.
And then it came to me in one moment, what I would have to do.
I would split them, I would separate them.
Was I a bad person?
Please please please review!!!!!
I would love any constructive criticism, etc.