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Sweetest Lies by RAB
Chapter 3 : Hidden in the Attic
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 4

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Hey guys! Here is chapter three of my newest novella story (a Next gen fic), Sweetest Lies. Thank you so much for the reviews, its nice to know that at least one person likes my story. I'm getting this chapter out a lot faster than I expected to, so I am pretty darn happy about that. I know this story may even seem a little rushed, but the main focus of the story is NOT what the lie is, but how the lies affect Rose Weasley's life. Also, I don't own anything but the plot, characters you don't recognize whatever. In addition anything you do recognize is J K Rowling, OR from the movie, The Knight's Tale.

Thanks and happy reading!


Previous chapter:

I nod my head, pretending I actually understand. I don't of course, but now is neither the time nor place to get on my father's case. Besides, I can always ask Aunt Ginny about it all later. Aunt Ginny would tell me what was happening over there between my father and Mr. Malfoy.

Later that night, when I went to sleep, I could not help but envision a certain pair of grey eyes with a few specks of blue in them as I feel asleep.

My eyes. My grey eyes.

And... now on to the next chapter of my story... hope you like it : )

S W E E T E S T . L I E S

C H A P T E R . T H R E E : H I D D E N . I N . T H E . A T T I C

Summer sunlight pours through my light blue, thin curtains as I awake to the sounds of baby birds chirping and a light warm breeze blowing the leaves on the the trees, creating a soothing rattling sound. A yawn escapes my small mouth as I rub my eyes, allowing them to adjust to the sudden bright light. I feel slightly light headed as I sit up, but it quickly passes, leaving nearly as fast as it came. I throw off my covers, quickly realizing how hot the August air really is.

August? Was it really August all ready?

Mum was only killed a week ago; the funeral was five days ago, yet it seems like it was really just yesterday. Nothing has really happened this past week; mostly just our extended family came to spend time with us-- everyone of course had tears in their eyes the entire time.

Now the house seems so empty, so big.

I look over at the clock on my bedside table and see that it is only five after eight in the morning. No doubt that I am the only one awake at this time in our entire house. Hugo will not be up until, at the earliest, 11:30 but really probably not until closer to one o'clock in the afternoon; at this point Dad will be in bed until at least 10:00 AM, leaving the entire house to my enjoyment for two whole hours.

All of a sudden I hear the faint sound of buzzing. Whipping my head around as fast as I can, I search my room for the source, before I lay my eyes on a very large, black and yellow stripped bee. If there is one thing I am afraid of more than anything else in the world, its bees. I can handle snakes (unlike Hugo), spiders (unlike Dad), and cockroaches (unlike Mum could...), but I cannot possibly stand bees. There is something about them that makes me cower in fear.

My fear of bees might have something to do with my cousin, Fred, putting honey in my hair when I was five. Within two minutes of applying it I had at least eight bees flying around my head. I got stung five times, all of which were either on my head or my neck.

Anyhow, back to the problem at hand: the extremely large, hideous bee that is currently flying and buzzing around my formerly peaceful room. Finally I come to my senses; I reach into the drawer of my beside table and fumble around for my wand, never once taking my eyes off the bee.

My hand comes in contact with something thin and rough. I move it aside until I find my wand, 9 inches long, made of hawthorne, with a unicorn core, and pull it out. Thrusting it at the bee now resting on my willow desk, I shout a spell to banish it outside my open window.

I sigh, thankful that the bee is gone, as I remember the thin and rough item I had felt before. Reaching over, I look inside of my drawer to find the necklace I had been given three days previous at the reading of my mum's will.

The necklace had a relatively long chain, made of gold, with a key hanging off the end of it. The key was rather small; much smaller than a key typically used for a house or even for the wizarding bank. Not knowing what else to do with it, I slip the chain around my neck and head to the kitchen to eat something for breakfast.

In the kitchen I manage to find a couple of blueberry muffins to munch on while I read the Daily Prophet. Oh wow. Will you look at that: three more articles about my mum, not including another one about the fight between my dad and Mr. Malfoy at her funeral five whole freaking days okay. Will they ever leave us alone?

No. Probably not.

Stupid newspaper. Stupid photographers. Stupid reporters.

Realizing I had nothing better to do, I decide to go up to the attic and start getting together my school supplies. Naturally I had finished my homework by the first week in July and had since then moved it all up to the attic (with the exception of a few of my favorite book for some good late night reading), so that it would all be out of the way. We had gone shopping for the new supplies we would need for mine and Hugo's upcoming school year the die Mum had died.

As I walk into the hot, dirty, yet organized (Mum always liked this in perfect order) attic, I scan the room for the box with my school things in it. Dad had carried it up here for me and I'm not really positive where he placed, so I look through some of the boxes.

The first box I come to looks a little worn. Well "little" might be the understatement of the century... Slowly I pull back the brown, cardboard flaps to find reveal the box is filled to the top. I sift through it carefully but I quickly realize that this wasn't the box I was looking for. I'm about to move on and search through another box when something catches my eye: a picture of my mum.

Delicately I pull out the framed picture as tears escape down my flushed cheeks. It is a picture of her when she was at school with Uncle Harry and Dad. The three of them are in their school uniforms just outside of the school. It was definitely from either there first or second year at Hogwarts. They are laughing and smiling, not realizing the troubles the would face in their upcoming years at Hogwarts and my mum's young, tragic death.

Putting the picture aside, I see my mum's old uniforms and school books, a photo album with various pictures of the "golden trio", her old cauldron, and a beautiful box. I sit on the wooden floor, despite it being so uncomfortable, and pull the red and gold box onto my lap. It wasn't by any means large, about as tall as a typical shoe box but not as long. Though it was a little heavier than I imagined it to be, it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.

I try to open it, but I notice it has a lock. Using my wand I say the unlocking charm, but to my surprise it doesn't work.

What can my mum possibly have that she feels the need to lock away in a box? It's fairly heavy, so it's not like it is empty or anything. The only people who would possibly go up here and look in her box would be Hugo, Dad, or I, so she really shouldn't have anything to hide from us. I wonder where she would keep the key for the box. If she didn't want Dad to go through it then she probably wouldn't hide the key in her room.

The box is trimmed in gold and is a little rusty, so the key would probably be the same. The key would have to be kind of small... smaller than a house key most likely and it would...

Wait a minute.

A gold key, smaller than a house key, that belonged to my mum.

I speedily pull the necklace out from under my shirt and look at it. It looks like it would be a perfect fit. I take the necklace off and quickly put the key into the lock, before gently turning. With a soft click the lid is able to be opened.

My mouth drops open as I realize what is inside. There are at least twenty, maybe thirty letters, all of them addressed with a neat, cursive handwriting to "My Dearest Hermione." If possible, my mouth drops even more when I realize who all of them are from... "All my love, Draco."


My mum... my mother... the woman who raised me and is currently married to my dad is writing love letters to Draco Malfoy?! Well, WROTE love letters... but still...

What the heck?

When the heck was she writing these letters?

I quickly grab a couple and search for the dates...

April 14th, 2005

August 7th, 2005

September 7th, 2005

October 1st, 2005

What? Those all happened the year before I was born, well less than a year before I was born for some of the letters. I was born on June 7th, 2006...

What the heck was my mum doing writing letters to Mr. Malfoy then... around the time I would have been... oh my gosh. My mum was writing letters to Mr. Malfoy around the time I was conceived...! Nine months before I was born would be... hang on, I'm not the best at math... June, May, April, March, February, January, December, November, October.. which means I would have been conceived in the beginning of September most likely.

I looking through the letters again and I realize that the last one is dated November 30th, 2005...

My Dearest Hermione,

I love you with all my heart. My heart broke into a thousand pieces when I read that you wanted to end out relationship. I cannot help the tears I shed as I know my life will never feel complete again without seeing your beautiful, chocolate brown eyes ever again. I know I will miss the way you let out a giggle every time my finger runs down your back. I'll miss you the way the sun misses the flower; like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct its light to, the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence as banished me too. It is strange to think, I haven't seen you in a month. I have seen the new moon, but not you. I have seen the sunsets and sunrises, but nothing of your beautiful face. The pieces of my broken heart are so small that they could be passed through the tip of my wand. But hope guides me, that is what gets me through the days and nights. The hope that after you're gone from my sight, it will not be the last time that I look upon you.

With all my love,


Wait.. what? How was my mum in love with one man and married to another? How could she have an affair? How can she do that to Dad? How could she do this to her children... well future children?

She wanted to tell me this. She wanted me to know. She gave me the key to the lock... she knew I would be curious enough to see what the key belonged to. But why would she want to tell me that she was cheating on Dad? Why would she even cheat on Dad?

Suddenly, I let out a squeak and quickly pull my hand away from the box. Dripping down my pointer finger on my right hand is a warm, crimson liquid... blood. After sucking my finger to stop the blood flow of my paper cut, I sift through the box for the source.

Gently I pull out a picture that had caused a mere instant of pain; a picture of mum and Mr. Malfoy. They look like they have been out of Hogwarts for a couple of years... perhaps they are in their early twenties, but still they are fairly young. Mr. Malfoy stands behind my mum, his hand on her shoulder as they smile at the camera. I look closely and I can see a wedding band on my mum's left hand; she was already married to Dad when this picture was taken.

How long did this whole thing go on? How could Dad never notice? How could Mum do this? And why is she telling me all of this?

I look back down at the picture in my hand and see Mr. Malfoy's grey eyes; my grey eyes.

Thoughts rush through my head; I don't look like the Weasleys; I don't have red hair, my hair is a very evident light brown... like a mixture of a blonde and mum's dark brown hair; I have my mum's curls, her chin, her ears, her build; I don't look like my Dad or any of my relatives; I have Mr. Malfoy's grey eyes; the affair was happening 9 months before I was born...

Mum wanted me to see all of this... she wanted to tell me my father is Draco Malfoy, not Ronald Weasley...

She lied to me all her life; I'm not a Weasley...

I need to talk to Aunt Ginny, my mum's best friend. Surely she would no everything about this, right?

Quickly I grab the box, close the lid, and run out of the attic, where the box had been so carelessly hidden, and to one of the fireplaces. Tossing some of the green, dust powder in, I step into our fireplace and shout "Potter Manor" being careful to pronounce it as clearly as possible. Dad told me about a time when Uncle Harry ended up completely in the wrong place after trying to use floo the first time.

A strange sensation comes over me as I feel myself turning, before coming to a sudden stop.

"What the heck? Rose? What are you doing here this early? Why are you even up?" I hear Albus ask in a tired voice. I look around and see that he is laying on the couch, most likely doing some of his summer homework, though he probably feel asleep doing it. "It is only 9:15 in the morning."

Normally I would comment on how I cannot believe he is up this early, but I have more important things on my mind. "Where is Aunt Ginny? Where is your mum?" I ask, my voice is rushed as I am desperate to talk to her and get some answers.

He looks confused, but tells me, "she is in the kitchen."

Without saying another word, I run as fast as I can to my destination, before spotting Aunt Ginny making pancakes in the kitchen, alone. I walk up to her and thrust the box into her hands.

"Did you know?" I ask, my voice sounding more forceful and mean than I meant it to. I fight back the tears that are threatening to fall from my steel colored eyes as I await her answer.

She looks at me, unsure, before glancing down at the box. She stares at the box like it is poisonous and infected. Carefully she puts it on the table, before opening of the lid. On the top is the picture of Mum and Mr. Malfoy I had just recently been looking at, followed by all of those haunting love letters. She looks back and forth between me and the box, not knowing what to say. "Yes," she whispers, so softly I can barely hear her. "Yes, I knew."

What? Even Aunt Ginny knew? And neither of them felt the need to tell me? "He's my father isn't he. My real father." It wasn't a question.

Once again she looks in shock, like she cannot possibly believe that I have figured it out already. "Your mom never actually told me, but I suspected as much." Once again her voice is soft and small. "I doubt she was sure herself until you were born and she saw your eyes, his eyes. Rose..."

I cut her off. "Why? Did she not think she should tell me something like this?? It is kind of a big deal you know! How could she do this to Dad? How could she do this to me?" My voice is shaky as the tears drip down my face as I release my anger and frustration on my favorite aunt.

Aunt Ginny looks so sympathetic, so sorry as she watches me. She pulls me into a hug and whispers into my ear, trying her hardest to comfort me, "Rosie, she loved Ron, but she had been going through a rough time with him and something just sparked between her and Draco. I know she loved Draco and Draco did love her. She knew she had to end it when she found out she was pregnant. At first she thought maybe, maybe it would be Ron's child, but when she saw your grey eyes, she knew, she knew you were Draco's. Draco never knew you were his; he really thought you were Ron's. Rose, she wanted you to be happy and she didn't think you could be if she told you, but I guess in the end she wanted you to know," she gestures towards the key that I had replaced around my neck.

"Draco's own wife had gotten pregnant as well and I think he eventually figured that Hermione was right, they had to end their fling, and go back to their spouses. I don't think Hermione was ever truly as happy again," her voices drifts off for a second, before she continues. "Look Rose, I love your father and I know Hermione did as well, but she was in love with Draco, no matter how hard she tried to fight it. Believe me, she hadn't wanted to fall in love with him... it just happened. Rose we can't control who we love. I myself was in love with Harry since the moment I laid eyes on him; He didn't tell me he liked me back until my fifth year at Hogwarts..." her voice trails off again as she remembers her memories.

"My whole life... my whole life is filled with lies... lies," I whisper into her shoulder as I begin to sob uncontrollably. Have I really just been living in one big lie.

"Mum, what's for..." the voice of Albus' stops as he sees the sight of me and his mum. "Mum what's going on? Rose what's the matter?" he asks, when he sees the tears dripping down my face. He starts to walk towards us, but Aunt Ginny puts up a soft, white hand to stop him.

"Al, honey, could you give us a few more minutes please?" Aunt Ginny asks Albus, sweetly, her voice louder and little more urgent than she had spoken to me.

Albus gives us one last look, before nodding his head, and turning around to leave. His footsteps grew softer as he leaves the kitchen.

"Aunt Ginny? What am I suppose to do? I can't honestly look at anyone in this family again the same way, especially not Dad, knowing that none of them are really my family; that you aren't really my family."

"Rosie, honey, of course we are your family; we're always be your family, and your dad is your dad; he is the one you raised you," Aunt Ginny comforts me, her long, thin fingers stroking my wavy hair, just like my mum had done when I was little.

"But what do I do?" I ask, my voice ready to break.

She says nothing for a second, unsure herself, before she tells me, "well, I suppose you have two options; ignore all of this and realize we love you Rose and you are part of our family, or I guess go and confront Draco." Her voice is troubled and soft.

I know she wants me to ignore it all. I know she doesn't want me to leave and speak to Mr. Malfoy. I know she doesn't want Dad to ever find out what his deceased wife has done. But she knows I won't ignore it; she knows I will go and speak to Mr. Malfoy; and she knows Dad... um... Ron, is going to find out about all of this and it breaks her heart.

She pulls me into a comforting hug; I seem to be getting a lot of those recently.

"I think I need to talk with Mr. Malfoy, uh, my real father," I whisper so quietly I'm not even sure she hears me. But as I feel a warm tear drip down her face and fall into my curly hair, I know she heard me.

Yeah!! THREE chapters! This is exciting!! Like I said before, the majority (but not ALL) of the letter to Hermione, from Draco, is taken from the movie "The Knight's Tale". Sorry, but my specialty is not love letters... The story is really coming along quickly and despite the fact it seems rush, I'm trying to get to the good parts and my main focus, dealing with the after effects of her mother's lies. Please please please leave me a review letting me know what you think of the story so far; I'd really appreciate it. The next chapter will involve a little more Draco Malfoy, so I must say I am pretty excited about that. Hopefully the chapter will be out within the week, but I'll probably try to write up the next chapter of my other fic, TRAPPED, so it may not be up for closer to two weeks. We will have to see.

Thanks for reading (and leave a review to make my day),


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