Secret No. 36: I think Amy’s a total slut. Which is horrible seeing as I’m meant to be her best friend. And, okay, I admit, I’m not exactly a nun either but being best friends with someone so sleazy makes you seem less slutty in caparison. And while I’m off snogging some random bloke, Amy’s probably gone a couple of steps further and, fortunately for me, these few steps are what the gossip in Hogwarts thrive on.
“Get out,” I say to the random first year who is sitting in my compartment, as I take long, deep breaths to feel less ill. I hate trains. He giggles, obviously thinking that this is some game the sixth years play, and doesn’t move. I glare at him. “So not kidding. Get out, you little twat.”
It’s only my first day back and I’ve already made somebody cry.
I think I deserve a round of applause.
The first year grabs his bag and scurries out, tripping over the door frame in the process. I wait outside the compartment for a moment, my eyes following the boy down the corridor. I only look away when I see him bump into a familiar face and, making sure they saw me, quickly slip inside the compartment.
“Rose,” Nina tuts as she enters the compartment after me, smoothing down her cute shirt and sitting herself next to me. I beam at her but, instead of smiling back, she chooses to keep to the ‘Hogwart’s Sweetheart’ tag. “Be nice.”
“Rose Weasley being nice?” A voice gasps and I divert my gaze from Nina to Scorpius, who’s looking every bit as delicious as he always is as he leans lazily against the open doorway. He folds his arms over his chest, smirking all the way, making his arm muscles a little more obvious. “It’s unheard of.”
“Go away, Malfoy,” I reply, trying to mask my happiness by grinding my teeth together. “Nobody wants you here.”
“Well, that’s not true,” he replies easily, seeming unfazed by my lie. His eyes flick to Nina who is staring down at his arms with as much fascination as I was. “I’m sure Nina wants me here.”
I think he knows she’s ogling him. In fact, I’m pretty sure he knows he could get any girl he wanted if he really wished it so. Thank Merlin he doesn’t – I really detest being on the losing side of the competition; something I’m sure would happen seeing as he hates me. “I know for a fact that Nina does not want you here.”
“Uh...” Nina seems to finally realise we’re talking about her and swallows, probably to clear the drool. I give her a knowing look and she blushes – embarrassed to have been caught staring at someone less popular. “I really don’t mind, he can stay-”
“Shut up!” I snap, purposely ignoring the triumphant look Scorpius threw at me. “Go away, Malfoy.”
I see Al almost walk past us, until he notices his best friend talking to his cousin. “Yeah, Malfoy,” Al sniggers, his messy black hair only reaching Scorpius’s nose. “You might to catch something.”
I roll my eyes. Al’s comments, which range from whore comments (see above) to bitch comments and back to Daddy’s little girl comments hardly affect me anymore. They’re more annoying than insulting. “Get out!”
Scorpius ignores me, except to glance at me blankly for a second, as he lounges lazily on the wall. “We have a prefects meeting in ten minutes,” he says.
“Fan-bloody-tastic,” I reply, trying my best to sound sarcastic. I will probably never admit this, but I absolutely adore being a prefect. Having a free pass to boss people around as well as sometimes getting partnered with Scorpius when we patrol the Halls is actually, in my books, a fantastic time. “Is that why you came in?”
He nods. “I was also bored.”
That’s when Amy bursts through the doorway, not even noticing Scorpius or Al when she shoved past them, and looking particularly sleazy with her lipstick smeared all around her face and her hair in disarray. And seeing that she recently started a relationship with my cousin those points are something that I’m gladly going to overlook. Ugh.
Unfortunately for me, Nina just had to ask her where she’s been.
Amy flops down on the seat opposite us, grinning slyly. “Saying hi to Ben.”
I blink. “You mean Louis,” I correct her and look to Nina to make sure I heard what I think I heard. Nina is instead focusing all her attention on Amy, probably still embarrassed about me catching her ogling a certain Malfoy boy.
“No, I mean Ben,” Amy repeats slowly, oblivious to the fact that Al and Scorpius are probably eavesdropping on her. She probably doesn’t even know they’re there. “But I better ‘say hi’ to Louis, too.”
“Amy,” I growl, looking at the girl opposite me in shocked outrage. “You’ve been going out with my cousin Louis for a day and you’re already cheating on him.”
“Wait, you’re going out with Louis?!” Al interjects, looking mildly surprised at this bit of news.
Amy also looks surprised. “How long have you been there?”
Scorpius slaps his head.
“Well, anyway,” Amy continues, resuming her oh so important task of inspecting her fingernails for dirt. “You can leave now.”
“Nothing would please me more,” Scorpius retorts, whipping around, and practically strutting off, Albus in tow. I can’t help it – I stare after Malfoy as I’m sure Nina did and even Amy glances up briefly to watch him go.
She turns to me, then, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know how you were ever friends with them.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, sinking down in my seat. “Me neither.” Oh, I’m the worst ex-friend ever.
Amy pulls out her mirror then and, giving a little gasp, begins to rub her face to wipe off the smeared make-up. “You’re breaking up with Louis, by the way,” I pipe up, recovering from that state of uncomfortable-ness earlier.
Amy’s compact mirror snaps closed and she looks up at me sharply. “What?”
I flinch a little at her hostile tone, deciding it’s best to reason with the crazy lunatic I call my best friend. “He’s my cousin, Amy! And you’re cheating on him!”
“Merlin, no,” Amy’s lip curls and she tucks her mirror back in the pocket of her bag. “I actually like Louis.”
“Then why were you with Ben?” I demand, feeling more and more annoyed the longer we talk.
“Well, I like Ben, too,” she says, letting out a tinkling laugh, her perfectly straight teeth annoying me even more. Would it be a surprise to anyone that Amy has never even had braces? I like to think she’s had some sort of secret surgery done but I’m pretty sure no parents – even Amy’s outrageously cool ones – will consent to surgery for an under eighteen.
“But... but...” I look to Nina for help, but she just ducks her blonde head, refusing to meet my eyes. “You- I... Amy!”
“Rose, relax,” Amy sighs, again rummaging trough her mini black clutch and pulling a tube of lip gloss out. She smears it on her lips, making them ridiculously pink and shiny, before answering. “He’s not going to find out.”
I gape at her. “You do realise Al and Malfoy were in here when you told us? And you do realise they hate you, right?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Amy tuts, now producing a brush from her bag and running it through her hair. The journey to Hogwarts is always Amy’s time to cover herself in make-up, perfect her hair and shorten her skirts because her parents are convinced Amy is absolutely precious and the only reason she keeps up with this façade is because Amy tells me it’s the only way she gets allowance. “They don’t hate me. Nobody hates me.”
Merlin, Amy was worse than me. I mean, hadn’t Scorpius and I decided yesterday that she was Hogwart’s Most Hated? Yes, I tell you, we did. And rightly so. She’s not exactly the friendliest girl, especially to those she dubs ‘dweebs.’ In fact, most of the time Amy is pretty damn mean to me, too. It’s just her ‘lovely’ personality.
I look at Nina again who, this time, shrugs. “Don’t look at me.”
“Rosie,” Amy smiles at me, trying to pull that innocent doe-eyed look on me. And I am ashamed to admit she succeeded. She always does succeed with that look, no matter how hard I try to ignore it. She got out of losing my favourite dress because of that look. “You’re not going to tell him are you?”
“I guess not,” I sigh, averting my eyes to the floor. “But I’m not happy about this.”
“You’re never happy,” Nina giggles, batting me lightly on the arm from where she sits. I scowl at her. “I mean, when Jake came onto you, we thought you’d be loving it! But no, you were still pissed!”
My lips purse – something which always happens when I’m annoyed. Nina isn’t really all that sweet (I’m sure Naomi could give her a run for her money) but she puts on this fake act around strangers and, since she’s popular and is the nicest out of us, she get’s that (quite wrong) tag. “For your information, I was thrilled.”
“She has a point, you know,” Amy adds, looking at me curiously as I fidget a little under both their gazes. I really, really don’t want them to know about the whole Scorpius thing. “I thought you liked Jakie.”
“Jakie pisses me off.”
“Oh, come on, Rose,” Amy sniggers and she leans forward expectantly so her face is right next to mine. “Who do you like then? Sam? Alex? Fergus? Tim? Scorpius?”
I freeze, my heart thumping and blood rising in my face. “Scorpius?” I titter a little nervously, I admit. “What do you mean?”
She sits back in her seat and shrugs. “I don’t know. He’s just hot, I guess.”
And I actually thought she was on to something there. Pah.
The door slides open again and I bite back the ‘sod off’ I was going to yell when I saw Marissa. “Who said Scorpius?” She asks, looking between us three wide-eyed. She obviously holds some gossip about Scorpius. Some call it juicy but I beg to differ. Marissa’s gossip is almost always something nobody cares to know and is forgotten in five minutes.
“Well, seeing as we’re on the subject of that; did you know,” Marissa whispers, closing the door behind her and settling next to Amy, “Malfoy got himself a girlfriend?”
That one hit me like a wrecking bull, right in the gut. I found my throat tighten, preventing me from saying anything but not stopping the strange squeak that came out of my mouth, and my hands become uncommonly clammy. I wipe them hastily on my vintage skirt, trying to breath though my chest suddenly feels uncomfortably tight.
Amy looks at me briefly before turning back to where Marissa is sitting, waiting eagerly for her praise. “Since when?”
Marissa pauses, looking like she’s thinking. As if she didn’t already know. “Just before Christmas. Maybe a day or two after we broke up.”
Why didn’t anybody tell me this? Surely Lily, the gossip girl of the Weasley’s, would know of this news? And happily tell me?
“Who is it, then?”
My eyes sting and, to my horror, I find my vision blurred due to tears building up. Oh, shit, I can’t cry in front of them.
“Some Hufflepuff girl in our year.”
Could Lily, quiet, spunky, adorable little Lily, possibly know about my little crush on Scorpius? And therefore be reluctant to tell me?
“Is she pretty?” Amy demands.
Marissa seems to stumble for her words. “Um, er, I guess so.”
Amy frowns. I let out another squeak. What is wrong with me? Surely I can’t be this upset that Scorpius found himself a girlfriend. Right?
“But you’re way prettier,” Marissa adds. Stupid sucker-upper. Amy fluffs out her hair while I try with all my might not to throw up or do something equally embarrassing. Like choke on my own spit.
“I...I need to pee,” I blurt out, desperate to escape so I can go wallow in self pity in the toilets.
Nina makes a face. “Too much information, Rose.”
I ignore her, rising to my feet, and half-run/half-walk out of the door. In fact, I would call it trotting. And yet, no one seems at all concerned or bothered that I’m storming down the corridor with my eyes hopelessly welling up and my already pale skin with a sickly off-tinge. I really do hate the majority of Hogwarts. They‘re all such self-absorbed prats.
I arrive at the toilets and slam the door open, startling a couple of third years who have probably just discovered make-up and are using this opportunity to slather it over their face. One girl pokes herself in the eye after witnessing my withering, albeit slightly teary, glare and they all take that as their cue to leave, pretending that it’s not for my benefit but for the eye-poker to find the nurse. Idiots.
I slide down the wall, not caring or – most likely – not realizing that there are millions of germs in public toilets, especially if you are sitting on the floor. I don’t know what happened then. I was just sighing, as I thought of Scorpius, and then the next thing I knew, I was in hysterics. Crying hysterics. I couldn’t breathe, that’s how hysterical I was, let alone worry that my mascara was almost definitely somewhere near my chin. The door slowly creaks open and I look through bleary eyes into the face of a horrified girl, who I presume is a first year, although she could be older as she looks fairly familiar.
“Y-you,” I blub, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, and the girl freezes. “Sit.”
I can’t believe how long it took for her to shuffle her way over and settle herself next to me. All the while I was glaring at the girl’s worried face, rounded from being so young and innocent. I wish I was young again; I would never be in this mess if I had just stayed eleven. “Um...”
“Don’t judge me!” I wail and throw my head into my hands, my shoulder heaving with sobs. “You have no idea what I’m going through!”
“I wasn’t!” She squeaks, looking at me fearfully. She’s already changed into the uniform – something I also did as a first year, much to my embarrassment – and she wipes her hands on the robs nervously. “A-are you...”
“Am I okay?” I finish for her, guessing the end of that sentence. I lift my head up somewhat reluctantly and the girl averts her eyes, not wanting to gawp at my red eyes. “No, I’m not bloody okay! Does it look like I’m okay?”
“Because I’m not! I’m not bloody okay! Okay?”
“O-okay,” she stammers, winding a strand of mousey brown hair around her finger over and over again. I just about resist the temptation to cut off all of her hair. The girl takes a deep breath, preparing herself for her next question. “Do you need any advice?”
“Advice from you? A first year?” I repeat, giving her an incredulous look. She really is either the pluckiest or the stupidest first year I’ve met. And this is coming from the girl who knew Hugo Weasley as a first year. “Okay then. Have you ever been so extraordinarily popular and amazing and then liked someone, who is the epitome of ‘social reject’ thus probably going to ruin your popularity, and who hates you and then is also best friends with your cousin, who also hates you, and your ex best friend, who I’m pretty sure wishes you dead?”
She looks scared again.
I lean my head back against the grimy wall, sighing deeply. “I didn’t think so.”
“Are you...” she says, pausing to take a large breath, “Rose Weasley?”
I blink slowly and then sigh, not even bothering to try to hide my identity from a girl I just spilled my heart out to. In a couple of months she’d find out anyway. “Yeah, I am.”
“Awesome!” She squeals and clutches my arm. I tear my eyes away from the ceiling where smoke stains are already beginning to stain it yellow and stare at her hand on my arm. “I’m Tabby!”
“Good for you,” I murmur, my eyes fixed on the ghostly white hand. “Now, get off of my arm.” ‘Tabby’ hastily removes her hand, a blush rising in her cheeks, and I stand, moving towards the grimy mirror.
Mascara tracks run from eyes, which are dewy and red, and stop halfway down my neck, thus causing a bad case of panda eye. My red hair has gone from cute curls to a complete frizz and my nose has gone pink at the tip and it’s pretty snotty and bunged up. I think it’s safe to say I look a mess. Well, there’s a first time for everything.
It takes me a few minutes with my nifty wand skills to make myself look half way decent and all the while, the first year girl is still standing there, staring hopefully at me. I turn to her when I’m done, smiling blithely at her. “I’m leaving, now.”
“O-okay,” Tabby says, flashing me a toothy grin. Is it normal for an eleven your old to have missing teeth? “I’ll go, too.”
“No,” I tell her in my kindest, most patronizing voice. “You stay here.”
“I’m going, you’re staying,” I repeat, and then walk out of the toilets, leaving a slightly confused first year girl in my wake. As soon as I’m out through the door, I crash headlong into a body which leaves me stumbling but not on the floor or bruised like at the barbeque. I wince, thinking of the lump on my head as a hand steadies me.
“Ro-Ro,” Louis says, his hand still on my shoulder. “Are you alright?”
I didn’t exactly start crying then. What it actually was, was some sort of wail/very, unbelievably high-pitched whine where all that came out of my mouth was complete and utter bullocks. I don’t even think that dogs could have heard me, it was that high.
Louis pulls me into a hug, and begins to pat my back. I bury my head into his shoulder and begin my ramblings. “Nnghorpuss gaht ah gnarlfrngh!”
“I know, I know.”
Amy is such a cow. How can she cheat on my cousin who is so obviously wonderful? He’s always been there, helping me out, especially when I fell in a muddy puddle and ended up in tears because James was teasing me so much. With a quick hex, Louis both shut him up and I was considerably happier.
“I know, I know.”
The git doesn’t know what I’m saying. ‘I know,’ my backside. “Al, Naomi and Scorpius hate me,” I mumble as another person tries to walk around us.
“I know,” he repeats and I frown against his shoulder. “Well, Al doesn’t. He’s your cousin.”
I pull back and make a face at him. “You sound just like my mum.”
Louis gives me a look, ignoring my statement. I too would have ignored it – nobody likes being compared to Hermione Granger-Weasley. “Al told me you were crying.”
My mouth drops open. Well, who’s wouldn’t? Al knew I was crying? And he told Louis who would obviously, being the good cousin he is, find me and try to comfort me? Huh, this is new.
I release Louis and take a shocked step backwards. “Al? Our cousin, Al? Albus Severus, Al?”
“Who else do we know of the same name?”
“Er... well... Alison? Alice? Alicia? Alex? Alexandra? Al Pacini?”
“Don’t be a smart arse, Rosie,” Louis clucks his tongue. “Nobody likes it.”
See, even in my times of distress I can still come up with something so incredibly witty.
I beam up at him, trying to keep the ‘sympathy smile’ or the ‘I know what you’re going through head cock’ out of my train of thought. If people know why you’re doing it, they are most likely going to feel annoyed and if they don’t know, it will automatically raise a whole lot of suspicion.
“Holy crap,” a voice exclaims, and I immediately recognise it as Hugo. He has just come up to us, holding his school robes, obviously wanting to change in the loos. “Is that Rose?”
I crane my head around Louis, giving my little brother a blatant ‘duh’ look. “Oh, well done, Hugo. Now, go away.”
Hugo looks shifty, his blue eyes darting from side to side as he shuffles his feet. “Were you crying?”
I move Louis out of the way so I can eye him suspiciously. “What have you done?”
“I, er...” Hugo rubs the back of his neck, a faint Weasley flush rising in his cheeks. “Well, I may have... sort of, slipped that ‘emotional potion’ into your juice.”
“You did WHAT?!”
Oh, he is so dead. Not only will I tell Mum he spiked my early morning juice with that potion that is famously known to make people into all kinds of emotional wrecks but I’m also going to tell all his friends that he still sleeps with his Marlo, his childhood teddy.
Louis sniggers and reaches out to ruffle Hugo’s hair, ignoring the scowl I’m throwing at him. “That would explain a lot.”
“You bloody git,” I growl, clenching and unclenching my fists in a fit of anger. “I’m going to bloody kill you. In fact, I’m going to do worse than kill you. I’m telling Mum.”
“You wouldn’t,” Hugo gasps, looking at me in horror. I smirk at him and both my cousins look at me with a sense of uneasiness. It serves him bloody right; I’m only reacting this way because apparently I’m high on emotional potion.
“Rose,” Louis says in a calm voice, as I reach out to wring Hugo’s skinny neck. Louis steps in front of me, blocking Hugo from my wrath. “Let me handle him, okay?”
“Let you handle him? Do you think I’m an idiot?” I snap and drop my arms after several futile attempts. “You’ll probably just give him a ‘nice try’ or a ‘better luck next time.’”
They exchange a look. “Maybe you should sit down...”
“I’m not going to bloody sit down! Stop patronizing me, you twats!”
“No one was patronizing-”
“Now leave me to wallow in self-pity!” I exclaim, throwing up my hands in exasperation, and Louis and Hugo let out a simultaneous sigh of relief before slinking off a little too fast for my liking. I glare at their retreating figures before stalking up the corridor, peering angrily inside every compartment and coming up blank. I pull my head out of one occupying second years and almost crash head first into a bemused Naomi who is rolling her eyes up at me. It was pathetic, really. The top of her head just about reached my shoulder and she was trying to stare me down?
“What have you got to wallow about?” Naomi sniggers and I tap my foot impatiently. I didn’t exactly realise I was yelling that loud enough for Naomi, who is halfway up the train, to hear. “Did you break a nail or something?”
I take a deep breath, my eyes pricking. I must not cry, I must not cry. “Y-you would...”
“Merlin, are you crying?!”
“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” I screech, trying to blink away tears that are welling up. Bloody Hugo and his bloody emotional potion.
Naomi gives me one of her infamous ‘are-you-kidding-me?’ looks. “Because you’re crying.”
“I am not!” I reply and she looks down, probably trying to avoid my teary stare. It is a little worse than a teary stare – I could feel a tear rolling its way down my cheek. I sigh – I’m going to have to redo my make-up all over again.
“Sorry,” Naomi murmurs to the ground. “You know. For making you cry.”
“I am not-”
“Are you okay?”
I blink. That completely shocked me. I mean, I had a sneaky suspicion that Naomi really didn’t care if I was ‘okay’ or not and I firmly believed that she hated my guts. I’m guessing she is being her usual overly nice self. “Er... yes. I’m fine.”
“You are not fine. An idiot could tell that you’re not okay,” Naomi says, rolling her perfectly blue eyes. “Give me a little credit.”
“For your information,” I growl as my lips form a tight line. She probably thought my friends have ditched me like I ditched her and I am damned if she keeps thinking that. I don’t want her pity stares or her understanding smiles. “Hugo spiked my juice with Emotional Potion.”
Naomi laughs, her nose crinkling as she does making her few freckles even more pronounced. My eyes prick again – Naomi’s nose crinkling was something I’d always liked but not remembered until this day and, seeing it now, kind of hits home. “I always did like that kid.”
My glare seems to wipe away the possible tears. Hugo is not, in any way, likable let alone someone who is amusing. “So I’m guessing-”
“Naomi!” Someone, who I’m pretty sure is Al, calls in a sing-song voce from the closed compartment on my left. “Naomi... Paomi!”
I was right; it is Al. He steps out of the compartment, looking slightly surprised to find his best friend talking to me. Twice in one journey, who would’ve thought? “Er...”
“Al,” Naomi says, blinking up at him innocently. If I didn’t know any better I would assume she is trying (and failing, might I add. Al is oblivious to these things) to flirt with him. But Naomi doesn’t have that ‘inner-slut’ like most girls do, granting them the ability to subconsciously flirt. Some inner-sluts are more, and I’m mentioning no names, prominent than others. “Your cousin is crying.”
Oh, that bitch. “I am not!”
They both ignore me. Al squints at my face while I try my hardest to glare at him. “Still?!”
I open my mouth but Naomi beats me to it. “What do you mean ‘still?’”
Albus cuts across me. “I saw her crying earlier. Like an hour ago.”
“It was not-”
“An hour?” Naomi repeats and looks at me in disbelief. “Merlin, how can you cry for an hour?”
“She’s a baby, that’s how,” Al declares, nodding in a knowing way at Naomi.
My teeth snap together. That’s it. It feels like an elastic band has gone pinging off into the distance. Except the elastic band is my temper. Because, not only did they interrupt me countless times but Al just called me a baby. A baby! I’ll show him baby. “I am NOT a baby! SCREW YOU, AL! In fact, SCREW BOTH OF YOU! How dare you call me a baby! I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU!”
Both Al and Naomi look slightly stunned. I allow myself a small smirk before shoving past them and storming off, my feet making satisfying thumps as they hit the ground. Baby, my arse.
“It’s the hair,” Al sniggers from behind my back. I clench my hands into fists but keep walking. “Red-heads have crazy tempers.”
“Al, it is not that.”
“It is! What else would it be?” Al asks. You know, I think he’s purposefully raising his voice so I can still hear him. Callous bastard.
There’s a sigh. “Hugo gave her Emotional Potion,” Naomi finally hisses, after a long pause.
The elastic band pings off again. And I was doing so well.
I whip around, giving Naomi and Al my best ‘die’ glare which even they could see at 15 feet away. Al takes a step back. Excellent. “You two are unbelievable! Could you not-”
“Look,” a voice gasps behind me. Amy walks up to us, her – what I’m assuming are high heels – clacking on the ground. She stops when she reaches my side and automatically assumes her ‘preparing to fight’ stance with her hand resting on her hip and all her weight leant towards that side. Her head is also tilted a little downwards, the perfect position for an unimpressed/annoyed look, and her free hand is dangling uselessly by her side. All in all, she looks pretty terrifying. “Rosie is yelling at Longbottom. Again.”
Al’s face changes from one of amusement to disgust and he moves a little closer to us, if only to be heard over the constant background chatter. “I really don’t think you have a place here.”
Amy looks pissed, her pretty features twisted in a frown. And, from past experience, being on the wrong side of Amy when she is irritated is a bad move. A really bad move. It’s so bad, I almost feel sorry for Al. But not enough to keep me from smirking at him.
“What does that mean?” She hisses, her lip curling into a sneer.
“I think you know.” Al has never been one to take Amy’s crap sitting down but sometimes, and this is one of those times, Al borders the ‘crazy and stupid.’ I think he either carefully thinks of what’s the best way to piss Amy off, and thus making him a complete idiot, or it just burbles out of his mouth, a little like his cousin does (i.e. Me.)
“No, no, I don’t,” Amy says and glares at Al in annoyance. “What could possibly be running through your mind when you think you’re better than me?”
“Amy...” I say in a low warning voice, placing my hand gently on her shoulder. “Drop it.”
For a second I swear she thought about it. But, then again, Amy doesn’t really do much thinking.
“Go on, Potter,” she goads, shaking my hand off of her shoulder and taking a dangerous step closer to Al. People begin to stick their head’s out of their compartments and I try my evil eye to scare them off. They don’t notice it – they’re too absorbed in the drama unfolding. “Answer the fucking question.”
Al glares down at her, disdain evident in his features. “Think about this carefully, Derrick,” he spits and I start to feel a little worried – I’ve never pushed Amy far enough for her to truly snap and, in a few bitter words, Al might have accomplished what most people are terrified to do. “Do you really want your secret told to the whole school?”
“Don’t forget, Potter,” Amy hisses and she turns her face to the side, giving me a sly wink. That was a little unsettling. I fidget, my feet feeling a little heavy under me, as if I’d been walking all day. “I’m not the only one with secrets. You know, blasts from the past.”
Oops. I may have mentioned to Amy a couple of Al’s petty, little secrets that frankly nobody gives a toss about. Like how he had a babysitter till he was 13 because he had a crush on her. Or how he had a doll till he was nine or the time he cried because his favourite Quidditch player quit. To be fair, I was obviously intoxicated in some way when I said this.
Al shifts his glare from Amy to me and I lower my eyes to the ground, pretending there is something unbelievably fascinating down there. Do you know what was down there? Blackened gum. Gum. Oh, how bloody typical.
“Oh, yeah?” A voice calls and I glance up, trying to keep the ecstatic look off of my face, at a smirking Scorpius. Oh, my. He’s walking easily towards, his hands in his pockets and his hair a little more ruffled than usual making him, if possible, even hotter. “Well, I bet Rose hasn’t told you her secrets.”
Apparently, karma was a bitch.
“I don’t have any secrets,” I inform the crowd, who are looking more delighted by the minute. I remember Naomi who’s standing awkwardly a few paces behind Al and send her a ‘Merlin-help-me’ look. Seeing as she’s the sweetest and probably, out of her and Al, the least likely to enjoy me suffer, I’m hoping she’ll help me.
“What about the time-”
It wasn’t Naomi who saved me, though I choose to believe that she was opening her mouth to say something and not to yawn. No, this was way worse. It was Malfoy’s fucking girlfriend. Looking all innocent and blonde as she beamed up at him. Only I’m allowed to smile at him that way.
She’s short, too.
“Hey, Zoe,” Scorpius actually looks happy. I think it’s the first time in a couple of years I’ve seen him do something other than smirk or scowl and this wasn’t exactly the thing I needed when I’m on the emotional potion.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” She giggles girlishly, winding a strand of hair around her finger. I have to turn my head away before I start bawling all over again. Zoe is much prettier than I pictured her and she seems, well… nice. She turns and notices Amy, standing with her mouths agape and me, looking at the floor again, eyebrow furrowed in determination. “Oh, hey guys!”
“Er... hello,” I reply after a moment of silence. I can’t exactly leave the poor girl standing there, can I? Amy still seems surprised, probably not expecting Marissa’s gossip to be true, let alone have it show up right in her face.
“Wow, I love your dress,” Zoe coos and then giggles. Again. I have to try and not punch her pointed little face in. It’s hard, let me tell you. “You look gorgeous, as always. Both of you do.”
“Oh, er... thanks.”
Zoe sighs wistfully and looks up at me with big eyes. “And you’re a genius, too. I’m practically failing everything. You’re so lucky, Rose.”
“You’re just making their heads even bigger,” Scorpius drawls, giving me an unfriendly look. I catch his eye, though, and grin back before he knows what’s hit him. Take that, Mr ‘I have a blonde girlfriend.’ “If that’s even possible.”
Merlin, he’s so bitchy. If I didn’t know any better –but I do, trust me – I would assume he was a girl.
“Scorpius!” Zoe admonishes, her mouth forming a tiny ‘o’ that makes her teeny lips look even smaller. Merlin, everything about this girl seems to be tiny. Amy looks unimpressed. “That’s mean.”
Much to my utter delight, Scorpius rolls his eyes. “We’re leaving now.”
Zoe obviously senses she’s done something wrong then, because she blushes and looks worriedly up at him. “Oh, okay. It was great to talk to you, guys,” she says to us and then does something that completely catches me off guard. She hugs me. As in wraps her miniscule arms around me and squeezes. I pat her awkwardly on the back and she turns to give Amy the same. “See you later!”
And then Zoe bounces off, her hand attached to Scorpius’s, with Naomi and Al talking in hushed whispers behind them. I’m pretty sure I heard them say ‘Rose,’ you know.
“Why is she so nice?” I grumble, glaring after the sickly cuteness of Scorpius and Zoe. They really do look the perfect couple – both outstandingly blonde, both pretty hot (not that I really noticed Zoe seeing as I was too busy ogling Scorpius) and both running in the same social groups. These could all be easy to fix – hair dye, anti-frizz gel – but the social group might be a bit of a problem and the fact that he hates me; something I resent Zoe for. “I hate her. Who is that nice? It’s weird.”
“Honey, she’s a Hufflepuff,” Amy informs me, shrugging her bony shoulders before dropping her arm around my neck. My arm’s are still folded in a moment of huffiness and I’m pretty sure I’m still scowling at where Malfoy used to be. “It’s like a package deal for them.”
“Well, if I have to see her and Scorpius all over each other for a second longer I will quite literally throttle someone.”
Amy raises a delicate eyebrow, her eyelashes long and black – courtesy of mascara – beneath them. “Rosie, we’re starting to sound jealous.”
I choose to scoff at this, before dragging her off by the arm into our compartment, trying not to seem paranoid to those curious faces that are finally retreating back into their compartment. I really, reallydon’t want people to spread something like that around the school. My life, as I know it, would be over. The compartment is empty – something that surprised me as we usually had to fight off first years for our seats – and Amy drapes herself across a whole side and pulls a pot of nail varnish from that bag which I’m now sure contains every beauty product imaginable.
“Zoe bugs me, too,” she says, flicking the nail varnish brush over her pinky, sending it a bubblegum pick. I sit in silence, not really sure how to respond to that. “She can’t just hug me like that. I mean, do I even know her?”
“You were her partner for Potions last year,” I point out, changing the direction of my stare from Amy’s now sparkly pink nails to her eyes. “And she says hi to you every time she sees you.”
Amy’s head is ducked down and, even though I’m positive she heard me, she ignores me to finish her nails off. “She needs to go.”
She needs to go? I sigh and lean back against the window, the cold glass sending a shiver down my spine. This shiver was most definitely not because of how threatening Amy can sound. “Amy, you’re not in the Mafia.”
“You know what I mean,” she sits up and looks me in the eye while I try not to flinch at her cold stare, her voice now raising to a shout. “Wasn’t Zoe the one who was sneaking out of a broom closet, only in her underwear, with Brandon Hutter?”
Oh, dear. Now it’s out of Amy’s mouth, it’ll be over the whole school. It doesn’t even matter that Zoe had never been in a closet in her life; what Amy says, goes. What’s worse; Amy knows how much power she has over the school and uses it to her advantage but she has no idea how much change she can evoke if she wanted to. How I crave for that sort of power – if only for a day.
“Amy,” I hiss and stand as she does, if only to restrain her a little by grabbing her elbow tightly. “That’s a little harsh.”
She shakes me off to open the door. People are already scurrying around, eager to spread hot, new gossip. “God, you’re so boring these days. It’s just a bit of fun.” With that Amy struts out of the compartment, probably to search for Brandon Hutter as a back-up for her rumour.
Oh, I am really starting to hate Amy’s idea’s of ‘fun,’ now. I always end up alone and Amy always ends up coming out Queen.
Secret No. 17: Amy only started to like me as soon as I got pretty. I mean, sure, back in first year, she tried when she found out I was semi-famous but after twenty minutes on the train, Amy called Al and I losers before leaving. When I started to fret about my hair and my make-up Amy suddenly declared us friends, even after ignoring me for three years. But she loves me now, as she so frequently admits. (When she’s drunk.)