Secret No. 33: It’s not the fact that you’re a bitch. It’s that I hate you. Because you’re a bitch.
I wake up to the curious face of Naomi peering over me as she calls my name. Okay, I admit, this did scare me a little – my heart seemed to miss a beat before starting up with double its original speed. And yes, okay, maybe screaming at the top of my lungs is overreacting a bit but, as I sit up in my bed, my hand over my thumping heart, I turn to Naomi with an accusatory stare.
“What the hell were you doing?!” I screech at her and am pleased to note that my scream sent her backwards by a few feet.
Naomi doesn’t look guilty in the slightest and I feel my anger rise at her. So sue me, I’m not a morning person.
“I just thought I’d tell you,” she says coolly, “that we have our first lesson in ten minutes.”
I stare blankly at her for a few moments, my brain working considerably slower due to the early hours, as I run my eyes over Naomi, who is fully dressed in our school uniform then to the clock on my nightstand that indeed says it is 8.50am.
My brain registers then and I fling myself out of bed with all the speed I have and sprint to my trunk, muttering curses under my breath. I dress in record time, shoving on my jumper quickly over my shirt and tie and pulling my tights up so quickly that they ladder. I’m out the bathroom in under five minutes, sneaking a quick look in the mirror to see I, indeed, look like I just woke up. There is not enough time to do anything more than flick a coating of mascara over my eyelashes and squirt a blob of frizz-ease hair cream in my hands, which I then run through my hair as I throw the door open.
To my utmost surprise, Naomi is still in the room, sitting on her bed as she flicks through a magazine, letting out a snort as she stops on a page. I stare at her, my hands still unconsciously working their way through my tangle of curls. Naomi looks up with a small smile and, picking up the magazine, waves the page at me.
I step closer, squinting my eyes until I can see the picture. And when I do I stop, narrowing my gaze at Naomi, who still chortles at the magazine, blissfully unaware of everything except the picture of me splashed across the magazine in front of her with the worlds ‘Circle of Shame!’ printed across the top in bold, red letters. A bright, red circle has been printed across half of my face and, in that circle, you can easily see the hand shaped bruise on my face as I walk down the Hogsmeade streets, a surly frown on my face. The words ‘Who’s been hitting the Weasley protégée?’ are printed below.
“Lovely,” I growl, slinging my school bag over my shoulder and making for the door. Naomi follows behind me, still giggling to herself, probably so pleased that her slapping me caused some embarrassment. I throw her a glare. “We have precisely two minutes to get to class.”
Naomi picks up her speed as she trots down the stairs, me leading just in front. The hall is fairly empty and I break into a jog, not wanting to be late again for the lesson. I hear Naomi’s voice behind me, as if she’s merely just striking up conversation, “Why didn’t you wake up?”
“I don’t know, do I?” I snap, my frustration growing as the time gets later and later than 9 o’ clock. “My alarm was meant to go off but it didn’t, okay?”
“Why didn’t Amy wake you up?” Naomi asks pointedly, and I nearly stop in my tracks when I hear that same, familiar pity she had in her voice last night when we were talking of Amy.
My eyes narrow again but I don’t throw the glare over my shoulder at Naomi. I’m not mad at Naomi, it’s the bitch of a best friend I’m furious with. “Oh, she is so dead,” I mutter darkly.
Naomi doesn’t ask any more questions and we arrive at the classroom only five minutes late. It’s that time in the morning when the class has just begun and the last straggles of people are just finishing entering the classroom, chattering amongst themselves. Naomi and I fall easily into line behind them.
When I enter the room amongst the first thing I notice is Amy, leaning back on her chair as if she owned the place. The second thing my eyes are drawn to is, quite obviously, Scorpius, who doesn’t falter as he notices Naomi and I enter together. Instead, he just looks at me.
I stare back and stick my tongue out of my mouth.
Hi, I’m Rose Weasley, and I have the mental age of a five year old.
Continuing with my child-like state I slam my back down on Amy’s table and throw her a dirty look as I flop into my chair. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Isabel and Sarah – the Slytherin twins from hell itself – snigger at my expense. Marissa rolls her eyes, a smug smile on her lips.
Amy regards me coolly. “Overslept, then, Rose?”
I don’t flinch under her gaze, instead choosing to run my tongue over my teeth before smirking back at her. “Yeah, well, I had a late night.”
Amy’s eyes flash and she breaks the contact first, leaning forward to open her book as Mr. Sitch announces our lesson plan and I turn to flash Marissa a triumphant look. She glares back at me.
Oh, happy days.
I’m practically skipping as I drop ingredients into the cauldron, each one landing with a hiss or a gurgle, while I warn Amy’s hand that clutches some god forsaken weed away with a quick glare. That girl’s going to mess up my grade O shrinking potion, I just know it.
It’s not until I hear Sarah cackling that my annoyance returns and I turn to her with my lips pursed. “What the bloody hell is so funny?” I snap, letting a root slip between my fingers into the liquid below.
“Does it look like I was talking to you?” She retorts, flipping her stupid hair over her shoulder and turning back to Isabel.
I roll my eyes, not even bothering to come up with a reply. The chances are she won’t understand it anyway. I scoop a portion of the potion into a beaker and survey the colour as I glance back at the diagram in the book.
Sarah’s snide voice carries over to me. “Weasley, it looks like something died on your head.”
I flick a quick look at Amy to see her studying me. It’s at this moment that Amy usually steps in for her lackeys, delivering a verbal bitch slap to anybody who thinks they can cross her by undermining us. She stays silent and, instead, I have to smirk at the tights Isabel has chosen to wear today and her knobbly knees.
“Ah, pity,” I say, though my tone is not upset in the slightest. I shrug. “But I guess it’s better than looking like something dead in general, right?”
I place the beaker on the table and the liquid swishes around. I’m pretty confident I’ve won but then Sarah opens her mouth again.
“Scorpius had a girl in his room last night.”
I freeze. Amy freezes. There’s an uncomfortable silence at our table as I try to recover, my mouth opening and closing stupidly. But I don’t say anything – the words wouldn’t form on my tongue – instead I just nudge the half-full beaker of violet liquid with my elbow so she is drenched in sticky, purple crap with God knows what’s in it, that then soaks into her white school shirt.
The class falls into a silence and I can feel Scorpius’s eyes boring into the side of my head. How do I know it’s him? I checked, just a few moments ago.
“Oops,” I smile innocently at her. “How clumsy of me.”
“You bitch,” Sarah breaths and then something wondrous happens. Her shirt actually shrinks as she stands there, staring down in horror.
I watch in amusement as her sleeves tear and the buttons begin popping off. The rest of the class watch in morbid fascination as Sarah shrieks and tugs at her shirt before finally fleeing from the classroom with her robe wrapped around her to protect the little bit of modesty she has left. Isabel slinks out after her, offering me a fleeting glare.
I turn to smirk at Amy who’s watching me, impressed, and the rest of the class break out into chatter again. I open my mouth to say something witty to the silent and stunned Marissa but I’m cut off by my furiously shaking professor.
“Rose!” He bellows, his face becoming increasingly blotchy and red. Apparently, he has recovered himself. Just moments ago, he too was gawping at the scene unfolding before him.
I smile tentatively up at him. “Yes, professor?”
“That was not the correct way to demonstrate your shrinking potion works,” Sitch tells me crisply and I’ve got to fight back the snigger.
“You’re going to join me later for detention.”
Ah, well, it was worth it. And I still got an ‘Outstanding’ on my potion.
I’m sure Amy is avoiding me. And I think this because I am, once again, sitting by myself at lunch as I butter a roll of bread, surveying the room with boredom. Nobody seems to want to make eye-contact with me – the story of me tipping a shrinking potion on Sarah has, apparently, spread already – and this makes me a little uneasy.
There is suddenly a scuffle around me and I look up to find Hugo sitting across from me, two of his friends by his side. Hugo nods at me but I find myself too stunned to reply – since when has Hugo ever decided to grace me with his presence?
“Hi, Rose,” he says as if we did this every day.
I place my roll down and fix him with a beady eye. “Hugo, what-”
“Hey, Rose!” A voice interrupts me and I turn to see Hugo’s friend, the same one who was at my house for New Year’s, grinning toothily at me. “Remember me?”
I stare at him for a minute, waiting for the grin to fade. It doesn’t and I get bored, returning back to Hugo. “Has something happened?”
Hugo shakes his head slowly and that seems to stop the rising panic in my chest. “No-”
“So, Rose,” Hugo’s friend pipes up again. “You’re looking particularly lovely this afternoon.”
What is wrong with this boy? I ignore him, instead choosing to send Hugo a look. A look which clearly says ‘he’s your friend. Put a leash on him.’
My informative look seems to pass over Hugo’s head for he leans forward and says in a hushed tone, his eyes darting from side to side, “Rose, I need your help.”
I also lean closer to him, intrigued. “You do?”
Hugo nods and his eyes go wide and puppy dog-like. “The keeper for the team is sick, Rose.”
I sit back up and give him an unimpressed look. Here I thought he was going to spill his secrets to me, get me to help him woo a girl or something. “Quidditch? Really, Hugo?”
His eyes become wider, if possible. “Please, Rose. We can’t do it without you.”
Oh, for Pete’s sake. “Hugo, I don’t care about Quidditch.”
The shocked silence I’m met with it’s as if I’d just announced I am dropping out of Hogwarts to become the female equivalent of Voldemort. Hugo and his friends glare at me.
I glare back.
We stay like that for a few moments.
“You can go now,” Amy’s voice orders above me and, at once, my brother scampers off and, shooting one last dirty look, strolls off with his friends following close by. Amy sits next to me and takes an apple, biting into it with a crunch.
“They want me to stand in for the sick Quidditch keeper,” I say to Amy, as way of explanation.
But she’s not looking at me. Instead, her eyes are focused behind me and her hand freezes half way to her mouth. I stare at her, perplexed, before a voice sounds from my left.
“Rosie, I want you to stand in,” Louis offers me a small smile, his hands in his pockets as he stares sheepishly at the floor.
Now I stare at him. We haven’t actually spoken since the incident a couple of months ago and I’m almost certain he’s taken extra lengths in order to avoid crossing me in the hallway. Not that I blame him, really. I wouldn’t really want to speak to the girl who sided with ‘the enemy’ (his words, not mine.)
The apple drops out of Amy’s hand and thumps to the floor as she stares gormlessly at my cousin, her mouth half open.
Nice one, Rose. Prove everyone that you are mentally challenged. That helps a lot, thanks.
Louis takes a seat opposite me, looking into my eyes so he wouldn’t have to acknowledge Amy. He hasn’t spoken to her either, not since he broke up with her for cheating on him.
“The team needs you, Rose,” Louis says quietly and I feel myself softening towards him. He is making me feel like bit of a bitch, I’ve got to admit. “I need you. We can’t lose to Hufflepuff. That’s just embarrassing.”
“Louis, I haven’t played in ages.”
“You played last summer.”
I fix him with a steady eye before throwing my hands up in defeat. “Fine!” I exclaim and let out a huff. I know Amy is a little startled by how quickly I agreed but I’ve learnt from past experiences that Louis is one of the most stubborn people I know and I will never win an argument against him. “But if you lose because of me, it’s not my fault!”
And that is how I ended up in the girls changing room a few days later, trying to rearrange this oversized Quidditch uniform I am wearing so it looks remotely okay. My cousin Lily laughs at me, before tying her hair up in a neat ponytail.
“Why are you so bloody happy?” I snap, my frown deepening as I notice the shite weather I’ve got to play in.
She rolls her eyes at me. "Would you lighten up?”
“No, I will not,” I reply as I stare down at the tee-shirt which hangs below my knees. Honestly, I thought I was tall but the currently ill keeper must be a freaking giant. “Lily, I cannot wear this! I’m going to be on the floor before we’re even on our brooms!”
Lily gives me the once over, a frown on her face. “It is a bit big, isn’t it? I guess you could run back to the dorm and get my spare.”
“Ah, Lily,” I sigh happily and ruffle my cousins hair. I pull the tee-shirt over my head so I am just in my leggings and a vest top. “I love you sometimes.”
“You’re going to miss the warm-up,” Lily warns to my back as I exit the changing room.
“I’ll run,” I promise and break into a slow jog across the grass.
This is where I learn I am really terribly unfit and there is no way I can run all the way there and all the way back. Within five minutes I have a cramp in my side, my breathing has become deep and often and my head feels like it’s about to drop off with redness.
That’s, of course, when I run into Scorpius Malfoy as he opens the door to the castle. That’s just my sodding luck, isn’t it? I’m going to be having serious words with karma – I’ve been a good person recently and this is what I’m getting for it? Seriously?
Apart from the time when I poured shrinking potion over Sarah. But, honestly, she had that coming.
Scorpius looks surprised to see me. I don’t blame him – my face is a million degrees, I’m wondering around in freezing weather in a skimpy vest top and I feel like at any moment I’m about to collapse from exhaustion.
He just looks at me. “You look... red.”
“I’m just...” I pant, fanning my face with my hand. I’m sure I’m growing redder by the second as my embarrassment rises. “Getting... ready for... Quidditch.”
Scorpius glances down at me. Since I am now bent over double trying to get rid of my stitch. Perfect. Just perfect. “Merlin, Rose, have you just run a marathon?”
“No, actually,” I snap, turning my face up to glare at him. “I just ran all the way from the changing rooms.”
Scorpius doesn’t reply at first, instead looking meaningfully over my head at the changing rooms which are at the bottom of the hill. “’All the way?’ It’s not exactly far though, is it?”
I, too, straighten up and glance over my shoulder. “Yes, well, it’s up a hill.”
“It’s a slope,” he corrects.
“No,” I reply through gritted teeth. It’s like Scorpius just wants me to admit that I’m unfit. “It’s definitely a hill.”
“Merlin, what are you, President of the Slopes Association?” I snap, feeling foolish as soon as the words of are out my mouth.
But Scorpius just flashes me a wide, toothy grin. “You better go get ready for the match.”
Shit. That thought completely slipped my mind and now I’m pretty sure it’s back with a vengeance.
I stifle my groan and give Scorpius a slow nod. “Mmm.”
“It starts in ten minutes.”
“Shit!” I screech and I bolt off down the corridor, arms and legs flailing out so attractively as I run. Before I turn the corner, however, I take a peak over my shoulder at Scorpius as he walks away. “Hey, Malfoy!” I call, trying not to be distracted by how good Scorpius looks from behind, as he walks.
He stops and turns towards me. “Yeah?”
“Tell your girlfriend I’m going to kick her arse.”
Scorpius doesn’t reply. He just smirks at me for a second before turning around and walking back the way he was going.
I hope he doesn’t think I mean literally, instead of Quidditch. Although, honestly, I would love to have a smack-down with Zoe, just to see what she’d do.
Among other reasons.
So, here I am, sitting on a broom at the end of the Quidditch pitch, in the sodding rain no less.
It’s not just the ‘soaks you through’ rain, either, that comes down in heavy downpours. It’s the light kind, the kind which slowly sinks into your outfit and makes your underwear wet. The kind of rain that makes my hair fifty times its usual size.
I bet that’s how everyone knows it’s me. Because of the red mane of hair that is the size of Jupiter. They’ll be like; ‘oh, yes, can’t you tell that’s Rose? Her hair alone can block a goal.’
I’m not very impressed. Not at all.
“And that’s Carfrey from Hufflepuff with the Quaffle now!” A voice bellows over the roaring crowd.
My stomach sinks. For, sure enough, Ashley Carfrey is barrelling towards me, a determined expression on his face and the Quaffle tucked under his arm.
“Weasley’s looking nervous! Ah, but here’s... um, Weasley to the rescue!”
See, that’s the problem with having the Quidditch team populated by Weasley’s. But it’s not our fault there is a Weasley in almost every year and that our parents insist we play Quidditch family games at summer or any other family gathering and we just happen to be better than all the shit players in the school.
Nothing at all to do with the fact that Teddy Lupin just happened to have his Quidditch team made up of Weasley’s.
I hover about on my broom as Carfrey nears, taking deep breaths to focus on the stupid ball I’m meant to catch. Then, suddenly, there’s a crack and Carfrey’s broom does a 360 spin in mid-air and I peer behind him to see Louis glowering, his beaters bat in hand and the Bludger flying somewhere off in the distance, after a nice collision with Carfrey’s broom.
I grin at him gratefully and Louis nods back.
“And Hugo Weasley has picked up the Quaffle and is now heading – ouch! That’s a Bludger to the head for Weasley!”
I feel my feathers ruffling. I’m going to kill that twat who dared pick on my little brother.The crowd jeers below but Hugo rights himself and, with a quick touch to the back of his head, he heads for the Quaffle again.
“-Gerard dodges Roxanne Weasley – God, she doesn’t look happy about that does she?”
Oh, bollocks. Sodding hell. Another damn chaser is heading towards me and Louis is all the way at the other end of the pitch. Even from here I can see his panicked face.
Gerard grins at me and brings his arm back to throw.
“Gerard, wait!” I call desperately, my voice pleading. His arm freezes and he looks confused. I know it’s wrong to take advantage of Hufflepuff’s niceness but I honestly don’t think I’m going to catch it. “I, um-”
“What’s this? Is Rose Weasley actually talking to Gerard in the middle of a match? Is she trying to flirt her way out of Gerard scoring?”
I shoot an annoyed glance at the commentator – a Ravenclaw girl in the year below. She is also going on my ‘To Hex’ list.
Gerard seems to recover as she says this and swings his arm back to throw. However, Roxanne has also had time to reach him and barges him quite ferociously so that he wobbles on his broom and the Quaffle flies straight into my waiting arms.
“And Rose Weasley has actually caught the Quaffle! Who would have thought it?!”
Yep, this girl is definitely going to have a nice, little chat with me later.
“Although, Roxanne Weasley did her her. And Spinnet has the Quaffle and oh! Gryffindor SCORE!”
The crowd erupts – Hufflepuffs whining and boo-ing like the wimps they are and Gryffindor wooping.
I see Lily high above us, circling around the pitch as she looks for the Snitch, with Zoe hovering nearby, one eye focused on Lily to see what she’s doing and one around the pitch. I must remind myself later to tell Scorpius his girlfriend has a lazy eye.
“And Hufflepuff SCORE!”
Bollocks. Stupid bloody Zoe. I blame her entirely.
“Peak picks up the Quaffle and dodges Smithy – oh, nice Bludger from Hank! Peak drops the Quaffle and Warrington-”
I find myself zoning out and I have to shake myself awake. There’s a reason I don’t come to Quidditch matches and it’s not because I don’t like standing in the cold for God knows how long, cheering for my team.
Though that is a major factor.
“And Smithy’s heading towards Weasley again! And HE SHOOTS, HE – oh, Rose caught it.”
Ha, in their faces. I am expecting a ‘oh, brilliant save, Rose!’ instead of the disappointed, shit one I received.
Gryffindor score a few more goals and, I’m sad to say, I do let in a few from the Hufflepuffs. I like to think that I saved more than I let in but by the gleeful note in the commentator’s voice, I’m pretty sure that that’s not the case.
And then I see Lily suddenly dive towards the ground, Zoe hot on her heels.
“And the seekers have spotted the snitch! It’s now just a race between Potter and Hawthorn!”
I try not to get distracted by the seekers as Gerard comes pelting towards me at top speed again and this time I know he won’t be so easily distracted. The Quaffle shoots out of his arm towards the goals and I have to pull up to reach it. My fingers make contact with it and the ball stops its path, instead dropping to the floor.
Oh, yes, go Rosie!
“And Lily Potter has caught the snitch! Gryffindor win!”
I am so going to add this to the list of stuff to rub in Scorpius’s face.
“Lily!” I exclaim happily once we’ve all reached the ground. I bound up to her and throw an arm around my favourite cousin. “We won! We won!”
Lily shares a grin with me. “I wasn’t exactly going to let that tramp get the Snitch, was I?”
My smile, if possible, becomes brighter. There are several reasons why I love my cousin Lily and her openly cussing Zoe is one of them. “Ooh, trash talk. I like it.”
Louis pops up out of nowhere it seems and envelops both Lily and I in a massive hug. “We won!”
I let out a laugh as I notice the surly expressions on the Hufflepuff’s faces, especially Zoe, who looks even more put-out than the rest of them. I’m so thrilled right now, I don’t even care how much my hair has expanded in the last hour or so.
Louis releases us and I see Scorpius suddenly at Zoe’s side, a half-smile on his lips. He catches my eye and offers a small wave which, okay, I admit, I do reply to with a little too much enthusiasm.
My team have already begun their steady stroll to the changing room to the sounds of people on the stands roaring and stamping. I follow at the end, my broom held firmly in my hand.
Scorpius falls into line beside me. “You did good, Weasley.”
I beam up at him. Scorpius looks adorable in the rain – his blonde hair dripping little drops of rain and his hoodie sticking to his chest. “I did, didn’t I?”
He lets out a little laugh and, I can’t help it, I take a quick look behind me to see Zoe as she walks back to the Hufflepuff changing room by herself, a sour expression on her face as she also peaks behind her.
“Don’t let it get to your head,” Scorpius chides and I like to believe it was in a somewhat fond tone. “Slytherin are still going to wipe the floor with you.”
“Ignorance is bliss.”
“Don’t even try to deny that we don’t have a better team than you.”
I grin at him cheekily. “But you don’t.”
Scorpius stops and I realise a moment later we’ve reached the changing rooms. I watch Lily throw a knowing looking over her shoulder at me before the door closes behind her and I turn towards Scorpius.
“It’s your birthday in a few weeks, right?”
My heart flips in my chest and the swell of pleasure I feel has nothing to do with the fact that I just won a Quidditch match. “Yeah,” I breathe. I don’t know why I’m so shocked her remembered , really. I know his birthday off by heart.
Though that may be due to the fact that I am a little bit in love with him.
A raindrop runs down his face and there is a small smile on his lips as he replies in a quiet voice, “How about that Hide and Seek game?”
Oh, Merlin, I’m an idiot. Can I really not just reply with something that doesn’t make me appear like a mentally challenged Frisbee?
“Hide and Seek,” Scorpius repeats again, and I’m glad to inform you that the expression on his face doesn’t look as if he thinks I’m slow. Actually, he looks quite amused. “As a sort of birthday present.”
“A massive game of Hide and Seek in the dark?” I ask to confirm and Scorpius nods happily at me. It’s hard to move my lips as I am smiling such a big smile. Knowing my luck (and my karma) it’s probably coming across as a little creepy. “That would be amazing.”
And, before Scorpius can say anything or even laugh again, I break the touching boundary we’ve had between us for three years and wrap my arms around him in a hug, noticing how nice he smells. Which is quite a feat, considering it’s been raining and he should smell all... well, rainy. But he doesn’t – instead he smells a little of soap and wood and parchment.
I really could have stayed like that forever – just lounging around in Scorpius’s arms – but I know, after his awkward little chuckle and pat on the back that he’s not too comfortable like this. So I release him, a little reluctantly, I must admit.
“Thanks, Malfoy,” I say to lighten the awkwardness and punch him on the arm.
Scorpius grins down at me, happy to be free from any sort of emotional situation. “Any time, Weasley.”
Secret No. 66 The Hide and Seek game on my birthday is the thing I’ve been looking forward to for the longest time. Don’t ask me why, because I honestly don’t know. I think it’s partly because I can get in touch with my inner child but mainly because it’s Scorpius who’s organising it.
A/N: Ah, this chapter would have been up last night but my internet crashed -.-
Anyway, I got a review from Severus Snape is a babe about writing a chapter in the POV of Scorpius and I got some yay and nay comments on that.
So I was just wondering what you think on that? All for a Scorpius chapter or not? I'm going to leave the decision up to you guys :)