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The Potter Problem by rey
Chapter 2 : What Goes Around... Comes Back In The Scary Form Of Rose Weasley
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 4


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Hi all! Thank you for reading, so much!

I really enjoy writing this so I hope you enjoy it as much.

I don't own anything. Only Tatum and some other new characters.

Ok, now on to the story!

 






What Goes Around... Comes Back In The Scary Form Of Rose Weasley

 

 



The first of September, 2016

I was watching in zest as the cold water flickered, burned by the September sun. The small waves that the boats made resembled a colony of soldiers ready to fight the enemy. In this case, wooden objects carrying children too elated and too unruly.

That’s when Willow Lynch fell into the deep blue.

And that’s how we met.

 



You know how you search for your soulmate, just to see if those kind of things really exist?

Well, I did the exact same thing. Only, I didn’t expect it to turn out to be a girl.

 



Hagrid pulled the choking girl from the water, her previously messy brown hair now a straight line following her rounded face.

The other children giggled or laughed. I’m ashamed to admit that I did too.

I was only eleven, ok? People make mistakes all the time, especially when they’re small and think Santa or Merlin rule the world ( Or both of them. Together! Wow, now that would be wicked! ).

 



I’m a Halfblood. That might clear up my messed up world to you a bit more. Or maybe not.

Whatever.

 



When Hagrid silenced the children, I took a glimpse at Willow. I felt a connection, almost instantly. I can’t fully explain why.

Maybe it were her taunting blue eyes, maybe it was her broken smile. Or maybe it was the fact that I could totally picture myself beginning school in the exact same way. Embarrassing myself.


Two boats away, a boy already had everyone forgetting about Willow’s water incident.

I later found out that this was the one I was so looking forward to meet and befriend.

He was giving away bags of WWW’s products, making the rest of the boys whistle in amazement and the girls swoon in, well, again-amazement.

And for a moment, he made me forget about Willow too.

In a slip of a second, in a moment of his boredom maybe, he looked away from the unruly group surrounding him.

And just like that, our eyes met for the first time.

There were no drum rolls, no firework, no... anything. But that didn’t stop me from later on believing that we were meant to be.

The moment ended just like it had began, in a split of a second, leaving me with a strange feeling that I couldn’t explain.



 

I turned to glance at Willow again. She was shaking. I took off my jacket and handed it to her. She smiled in a very grateful and gentle way.

"Thanks."

"No problem. So what’s your name, Lake girl?"

She smiled shyly. "Willow Lynch."

I took out my hand and shook hers. "Tatum Kenward. And if you even try to joke about my name... I’ll be suddenly needing my jacket back."

She didn’t stare at me. She didn’t look confused like most children that talked to me.

No.

Instead, she laughed. In a lively, joyful way.

As we got near the castle, one thought crossed my mind. And it wasn’t about the brown-reddish haired boy sitting two boats away. It was about my future best friend and made of honor ( She will be. If I ever succeed in getting someone to marry me. ).

"I like this girl."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The third of September, 2017

"I hate this girl!"

Willow sighed putting away her pumpkin juice and rolled her eyes at me.

"You hate her only because you heard rumors that she might be getting into their team. Seriously, Jill, I’m beginning to think you have issues. Like, really big ones."

I still continued to stare at the said girl.

 



Monique Russo.

The beautiful (snort) girl who just moved from France ’cause her father got a job in our Ministry.

Everyone wanted to know if she was a veela. Please, like being French automatically makes you a veela too.

 



As it later turned out, Monique really was a veela. Well, at least half of her was. And as it also turned out, I was right to fear her.

Monique was James’ first girlfriend.

 



"I mean, I don’t get it! What does he see in her?!"

Willow looked at me in a way that could only mean-'Do you really want to know? ’Cause there’s plenty of it.'

"Ok! Fine." I said trowing my arms in the air as a sign of surrender. "She’s gorgeous. I mean, no one’s gorgeous at twelve. And she is! But let’s move beyond her looks..."

"Jill, please, stop. They’re not even on the team yet!" Will was just beginning to get mad.

It occurred on a regular basis. It was one of the many delightful perks of being my friend. She channeled my anger better than I did.

"There is, you know, the possibility that one of them won't get in."

 



FYI, they both did.

 



I sighed. "I hate my life."

"Why, because a boy with who’s mother you’re obsessed isn’t dating you?"

And the anger just grew and grew...

I frowned. "You know, sometimes the things you say hurt."

Until it exploded in that one sentence even she knew was maybe too much.

"You know, sometimes I wonder why you’re not in St. Mungo’s yet."



 

Yep. Even my best friend would’ve sent me away. That’s how obsessed I was at that time.

 



"Fine! I’ll stop obsessing over a boy who doesn’t even know I exist."

 



I didn’t do it.

Actually, it only became worse with years of stalking James.

Don’t freak out! It wasn’t like that!

...

 

Ok, it totally was.

But, still... I wish Willow was more supportive sometimes.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The fifteenth of September, 2017

"So she’s on the team. Big deal!"

We were sitting at the Hufflepuff table this time around.

It wasn’t exactly forbidden sitting at a table that wasn’t your house’s. But some of the natives were sometimes too protective of their home colors. So, it was still wise to avoid doing this. But considering the fact that practically no one knew who Will and I were at that time, it was a safe and fun tradition to follow.

"I mean, let’s be realistic here, Jill. Of all the girls at Hogwarts, the chances he chooses Monique are, like, almost zero. But deal with it, he is going to find a girlfriend eventually. And, sorry for being so harsh, but the chances a bookish Slytherin who has a crush on him and his mother will be the said girlfriend are even below zero."

 



I kinda wish I listened to her.

Not that being ignored and overlooked by James for several years wasn’t fun. But maybe, just maybe, I could have lived without it.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The first of September, 2028, Today

I wish Willow is here now instead of in China. Maybe she can enlighten me why I’m doing this. Again. Why I’m feeling like he just stabbed my heart with a Mount Everest sized knife. When I should be shooting him death glares and swearing out all the dirtiest words that mankind has ever thought of.

 



James just smiles in that charming way he always does, ignorant of what is playing out in my mind.

"Wow, Tatum. It’s been a long time."

My boss coughs intentionally so her son would fill her in.

"Oh, mum. Sorry." He turns to his mother.

But then suddenly he takes my hand and drags me right in front of her desk. The closest that I have ever been to her. I don’t know what makes me sweat more. The great Ginny Weasley just inches away from my face or James’ hand squeezing mine.

"Um... Hi."

Merlin, am I a weirdo or what?

"Tatum was in my year. In Slytherin. And she was also the Head Girl." James explains.

"Oh, so you lived together in your seventh year?"

That sounded kind of wrong. But my boss doesn’t seem to think so.

James nods his head furiously.

"And I think she may have had just a tiny crush on me back then."

 



That’s it.

 



Flat line.

Dead.

Gone.

Nothing.

Nada.

Zero.

...

 

I haven’t imagined that, right? He said it.

 



Merlin, seriously, why?

 



Mrs Ginny smiles shaking her head in clear amusement. "James, you think every girl has a crush on you."

"Well, am I right or not?" James puts his hands on his hips, making him resemble his mother in a strangely charming way.

They both look at me curiously.

 



Oh my God! This can’t be happening for real!

No.

No!

No, no, no!

"Um..."

 



Just when I’m about to start rolling on the floor in a tantrum-like attack, a knock on the door breaks the silence.

Thank you, Merlin! Thank you!



 

A handsome chocolate-skinned man walks in. "Mrs Potter, Mrs Knightly wants to ask you something about the column..."

"Coming." My boss nods her head.

The man does too and leaves, shutting the door in hurry.

"Sorry, children." My boss gets up from her power stool and shrugs. "Have to go. But when I come back, we will discuss your schedule, your duties and, of course, your tardiness."

She gazes at James especially long and heads out, leaving us...

Alone.

Just the two of us.

...

 

This is in no way awkward.

 


 

* * *

 


 

James insists that we go get some 'good old' coffee. I try to avoid the situation by explaining (laying) that I have a 'fragile' bladder. But that doesn’t halt James.

So, here we are, sitting in the 'Daily Prophet' canteen, sipping the black sugar-free drinks that practically make themselves, together.

Magic is totally wicked. Did I ever say that?

 



James speaks like we are still seventeen and with no care in the world. Well, at least he didn’t have any. And he, of course, doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing to me right now.

It’s funny how history repeats itself.

Actually, no, it is not funny. Sorry for not having a sense of humor when it comes to fate’s crappy ways.



 

"So tell me, Tatum, what brings you here?" He smirks, pressing his wrist on his cheek and leaning his elbow against the table.

"Well... work." I say lamely.

James rolls his deep brown eyes, with just a few specks of gold in them. "I know, but from all of the papers out there and all the sections in them... You choose the Quidditch one in the 'Daily Prophet'. Coincidence?"

He hoists his eyebrows.

I try to maintain a professional face.

Major fail.

 



So I go with my last resort. The 'changing the subject' emergency escape. "And you? I though you were actually playing Quidditch."

James frowns with a slight smirk visible in the corner of his full lips. "Not smooth, Tatum. But I’ll let it go. For now."

He winks.

But then, James sighs heavily, taking a quite long look at the floor. "I... I got injured a while back."

I can sense a trace of clear sorrow in his voice.

That’s when Tatum 'I want to be your friend, James.' makes a sudden comeback. "But couldn’t you..."

"No." He smiles weakly and, for a second, I wonder why I was ever angry with him.

That’s how much of power he apparently still has over me.

"Even my brother, the ultimate Healer, couldn’t help. It was one of those almost deathly falls. I should be happy I’m still alive." James finishes, his voice flat.

I stare at him. "You 'should be'?"

He laughs.

It’s the same laughter that made my heart jump on countless occasions. The same laughter that made me think that he was some kind of angel sent to save me (From what, I never really decided.). And other stupid things I though up when I was just a gullible teenager.

"Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t try to kill myself. Just... It wasn’t easy, I guess."

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Ok, it was totally the worst period of my life. But, it still goes on. And this is the second best thing I can get."

"Writing?" I ask with pure disbelief.

I read a couple of James’, um, 'essays' back at school.

No wonder he asked me to help him write them again.

"What?" He laughs.

"I’m sorry, but it’s really hard to believe you wanna do this." I shrug.

"Tatum, you’re good, I’ll give you that." He then pats my hand slightly.

The shivers I had felt so long ago come back instantly. Like someone had pressed 'pause' on my feelings until I was to meet James again.

But why does it have to be him?!

"What do you mean?" I mutter, my voice sounding like a parrot with a bad cold.

"I didn’t want to do this. In fact, I didn’t want to do anything." James explains, gesturing with his hands madly.

Something that he had a habit of doing back at Hogwarts, too. And, unlike many of his friends, cousins, girlfriends, everyone actually, I found it endearing.

"I was so depressed because of my injury, I was tied to my bed for weeks. My family started a bet on who was going to get me up from it."

I made a slightly disturbed face.

"Don’t worry. It wasn’t that bad. They knew they had to do something to get me rolling again. They just wanted to make sure they do it the best way possible. And when there’s a competition going on, the  Potters and the Weasleys come up with the best ideas. Trust me. We like to compete."

"Was there any prize involved?" I ask anxiously.

"Three bags of chocolate frogs. But it really wasn’t as bad as it sounds." He tries to reassure me again. "And it’s my family. We do those kind of things every day."

"So, your mother won?"

I can’t believe my heroine would bet on her son’s sanity. This sheds a whole new light on her vision in my mind.

James shakes his head. "It was my cousin Rose’s idea. So, technically, she won."

He smirks.



 

I guess everyone has their own level of 'normal' madness. James’ family is just a little more accepting than... well, everyone else.

But, who am I to say what’s crazy? Even though I’m pretty sure,this really is not normal. At least slightly.

 



"You didn’t even want to work for your uncle George?" I’m confused and curious at the same time.

 



And yes, I have a huge knowledge of James. Haven’t I said I was obsessed? Do you need me to explain to you the meaning of that word?

I didn’t think so.

 



"Well, I did thought about it. And this may shock you. But... no."

I am shocked.

"Did I miss something? Because... the last thing I remember is you setting Trelawney’s hair on fire at the end of our seventh year."

"Yeah... good times." James wanders out for a moment with a stupid grin sealed on his face. "But it was always just for fun. I didn’t want to work with my uncle George. This may shock you even more, but Hugo is actually the main prankster in our family."

"That is... peculiar."



 

We sit in silence.

My body trembles.

I feel like a leaf ready to fall to the ground. Only, I would feel the fall much, much more.

"So... you’ll write." I’m fearing for our unsuspecting readers.

"I don’t think so. I think I’ll be out of here before I even get to write anything. In the end, I’m doing this as it is the most bearable job that my family could think of in this short notice. It’s just until I figure out what I really want to do." He nods his head.

Well, that makes more sense. "You know, it was weird seeing you here. Absurd, actually."

"Well, you don’t have to go that far." He rolls his eyes.

We share a look.



 

It may sound like it’s natural for me to speak with him. But it really isn’t. I fell like I’m grasping for air in a vacuum filled room.

...

 



What am I doing?! I hate James! I can’t let him do this to me!

 



"I think we should head back to your mum’s office. We’ve already been late once. Wouldn’t be good if we reaped it."

"You’re probably right."

We stand up and our cups immediately levitate away to the kitchen.

This beats regular canteens on so many levels.

 



James and I stroll down the hallway not looking at each other and not speaking to each other.

Now, this is how most of our 'friendship' played out.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The eighteenth of November, 2018


James stormed into the Great Hall, looking like some wild animal just tried to eat him alive. Or at least lick him.

Everyone turned to look at him.

Yes, he was quite an attention drawer. That much, I’m sure, you already figured by yourself.

"Anyone..." He muttered while grasping for air at the same time.

Needless to say, it wasn’t the most comprehensive sentence.

"Do you have a spare DADA essay?"

The essay was due in half an hour. And the new teacher was a pain.

Everyone stayed mute. Not even James could beat Mr Cutteridge.

Or could he?

 



It later turned out that Mr Cutteridge was a slight lover of some forbidden potions that made him angry all the time, so he wasn’t sad because of the death of his wife.

True story. Stuff like this you just can’t make up.



 

"Um... I have." I raised my hand.

It’s not hard to guess that Willow gave me The Look.

While James was happily heading my way, the two of us had a silent conversation going on.

"What are you doing?!"

"I’m helping him."

"No, your unhelping yourself. Trust me, Jill, you should always come first in your life."

"But, I... I..."

"Do you even realize what Mr Cutteridge will do to you if you don’t hand him that essay?!"

 



I did imagine it in those thirty minutes before class.

It wasn’t pretty.

 



James finally stood above me and put his hand on my shoulder. This gesture was as big as I though it could be, considering it was James.

But, he also smiled.

"Thanks, um..."

"Tatum." I filled in, amazed that he was even trying to learn my name.

In the mean time, Willow was simulating trowing up in her pumpkin juice cup. I ignored her and gave James the paper.

"Nice to meet you, Tatum. I’m..."

"James. I know.“"I said sweetly.

Maybe it did come of as slightly crazy to him at that time.

"Thanks again. I’ll never forget you did this for me." He winked and ran off  to who knows where.



 

But he did forget.

It took two more years for us to interact again. And it was clear that he had no idea of who I was, what so ever. Even with a name like mine.

As for Mr Cutteridge, I for once had luck. He didn’t show up that day. And the next one it was announced that we’ll be getting a new DADA teacher.

 



And something I also found out later on was that forgetting people and 'events' was nothing new to James Sirius Potter.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

As James and I continue to 'enjoy' possibly the longest silence it the entire universe, we bump into Mrs Potter right in front of her office.

"There you are, my assistants." She smirks emphasizing the word assistants with joy, before taking both of our hands in each one of hers. "Come with me."

 



I try not to look at James. So I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m weird all over again.

But, who cares?!

I don’t.

Not even a little.

Not at all.

 



"Here we are!" My, ok our, boss opens the door with a bright grin plastered all over her face.

That’s when my grim expression turns into a smile so wide that I fear it’ll cut off my ears. And that’s exactly when James’ carefree face starts to look like a poster face for 'bad news acceptor'.

"Oh my God." We say in unison.

But we are actually thinking the exactly opposite things.

 



The dark ambience with an ancient looking window across from the door, two tables facing each other in the middle, one dusty shelf in the corner and the wall all together covered in Daily Prophet articles cut out from the paper, make this place the most single brilliant space.

Next to boss’ office, of course.



 

I step inside, speechless.

"I’m... Erm... Speechless." Says James rubbing his chin with an unreadable expression on his face.

"You like it?" His mother smiles warmly with a trace of hope in her voice. "Sure, it needs some fixing..."

"It’s perfect!" I exclaim squealing like a little girl who just got her first Barbie.

Only, I hated Barbies. I kind of liked shaving their heads and pretending they were boy soldiers with girly pink clothes.

I was highly imaginative.

 



James gives me a look.

It resembles the 'Mate, are you serious?' look. But it can also be 'Chick, you are a complete loony.'

Either way, it doesn’t make me look good.

I send him a 'I don’t care, you Piggish Pig, the Pig of all Pigs.' gaze.

He smirks.

I don’t think he gets it.

 



"Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be right back!" Mrs Weasley makes a noise that almost sounds like my previous little outburst.

Almost.

And so, for the second time today, my boss leaves her promising assistants alone. In an unusually stuffed dark room. With atrociously small amounts of fresh air.

Or is it just air?

James glances at me while I gape at the articles. One figure stands out, just like her flaming red mess for a hair.

"You really like it here, don’t you?"

 I slowly turn around to face him.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The thirteenth of October, 2020

"Pts!"

I tried to block the irksome sound out and concentrate on my potion, as my partner was somewhere wandering the halls, not carrying for the 'fucked waste of my life' subject, as she called it, in the slightest.

"Pst!"

I finally gave up, highly unnerved, and turned around furiously.

And sure enough, it was him.

James Sirius Potter.

He was smirking in that 'James' way, with his right eyebrow casually lifted up, as to show how he enjoys his life, out and out. And to shove it down everyone’s throats. In this exact case, mine.

But all of a sudden, my heart raced up. My palms became sweaty in a personal record of mine and I felt like I was choking.

 



It was two years since I last 'spoke' to James. A yet, it felt awfully too long and too short  at the same time.

It felt like a different life. One where James 'Everybody loves me!' Potter by some miracle spoke to that weird Slytherin girl with only one Ravenclaw as a friend.

It felt surreal.

But this... This felt even more unrealistic.

I lost myself in his stern eyes that I felt were reaching deep into my soul, looking for something that they couldn’t find anywhere else.

"Yeah?"

He frowned at my voice like he was trying to collect some old, buried memories from the back of his mind.

I smiled in sweet anticipation.

...

"Have a spare quill?"





And just like that, my heart was shattered again.



 

What a pathetic looser I was, right? No, wait, I was a pathetic excuse for a looser.

 

But I won’t have it any more!

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"What?" He asks through a laugh, his hands stuffed in his pockets, as he slowly sways back and forth in an irksome and calm way.

 

What?

 

Of all the questions out there, he asks the most derisive one.

 

What?!

 

Oh, that little bastard... !

 

And...

That’s exactly when Rose Weasley chooses to come to her cousin for the 'emergency of the century' crisis.

And as luck will have it I am, according to James anyway, the 'ideal solution'.

 

 

I never signed up for this!

 

Holly crap of all craps out there in this unfair world...

 

I’m doomed, ain’t I?

 

 

 

 

* * *

 





So, ok. I may have had some major evil plot emerging from the back of my mind a few years back. It was the 'how to bring James way down so he never ever gets to see the sun again' plan.

But really, it is so in the past. I mean, it never even played out. So, isn’t karma miscalculating things a bit?

 



Rose Weasley’s wedding?

Come on!

I think no one deserves to be punished in this horrid way.



 

Who’s she, you may ask? And why am I fearing her and her wedding so much?

Let’s go a few memories back down the road...

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The fifteenth of October, 2018

"Oh, and by the way, you know who’s also in the Gryffindor team this year?" Willow tried to hook her sausage with a silver fork she just accio-ed.

"You mean, besides the blot that is Monique Russo?" I fake-smiled.

I wasn’t even trying to make it appear real. Willow would read it anyway.

"Merlin, Jill! Can you not think of her just for a second?!"

"Fine!"

Will smiled content with herself and opened her mouth.

"Second’s up! What a pest she is, right?!" I snorted.

Will looked at me in a highly murderous way. She was pissed. No, she was in her 'I’m going to rip your head of if you don’t shut the hell up!' mode.

So, I listened to her. Even though she didn’t say a thing. It was very much implied. Believe me.

"So, you know who’s on the team?" Will said through gritted teeth.

I shook my head in response.

"Rose Weasley! Go figure!"

"Rose?" I asked almost stuttering.



 

It was known throughout the school that Rose Weasley had temper issues. And not in that 'I’m an angry teenager, leave me alone!' way. It was far more... complex than that, so to speak.

I thought it couldn’t get worse in the anger department. That was, until I met Lily Potter later on.

But that’s not the point. The point is, no one could get near Rose, unless she approved it.

She wasn’t exactly a bully. She wasn’t going around the school lurking scared little first years to bring her frustrations out on them. No.

But, making Rose angry... It was probably the last thing you’d do before booking yourself a bed at the hospital wing for at least two weeks.

So to hear that Rose was on the Quidditch team, and of course as a Beater, made me just a little scared for all the poor bastards up there, playing with her.

Including James.



 

"Who let her in? Are they crazy?" I muttered to Will, twirling around to check if anyone could hear me.

Will shrugged. "Dunno. But this may actually make me go watch the matches with you. Finally some decent action going on!"

She smirked right into my face.

 



As it turned out, Rose was the best Beater the school ever had. She was almost hundred percent accurate in her attacks. Gryffindor won every single cup while she was there.

 



But, beating her Quidditch opponents was not her only hobby.

Rose was smart. She proved that in her first year, scoring all O’s and making the Potter-Weasley clan proud. She wasn’t the only one to do so. But she was the sweetest.

Until, of course, the second year rolled around. And Rose found out that she, above everything, enjoyed competing (Of course I'm diminishing this.) with Scorpius Malfoy.

 


 

 

* * *
 

 




The fourth of March, 2019


"Oh my Merlin!" Willow almost fell out of her chair laughing as she read my article in the 'Daily Hogwarts'.

"It’s not funny." I frowned. "Rose has temper issues. According to sources she is ten times worse than both of her parents combined. And they had anger management problems, too.“

I was really getting into this whole reporter thing. It wasn’t just fun. It was... inspiring.

Ok, so I only wrote about Hogwarts’ scandals. But still.

"Oh, come on, Jill! You have to admit! Rose is a blast! I think we would get along pretty well.“

"Why don’t you go and be her friend then?" I crossed my arms.

Will smirked at me. "You are such a baby, Tate. One day, you’ll fall for a guy... And I mean, really fall, not this whole James nonsense..."

"Hey!" I yelped offended, but she ignored me.

"And when the day comes and you need to take that one step, the step that gets you to your final happiness... You’ll chicken out and crawl back into your baby shell again."

"That’s ridiculous." I raised an eyebrow smugly like I knew better.

"At least Rose goes after what she wants, Jill. You could learn a thing or two from her."

Willow folded the paper just so the picture of Rose carrying a pig-shaped Scorpius on a leash parading through the Great Hall was visible.

"If transforming a nice boy as Scorpius into this is what it takes to be bold, than I’d rather be a muff my whole life." I though to myself.

 



And I was a muff during my time at school.

Willow wanted me to look up to Rose as she was sure that this girl would achieve something amazing in her life with a will like hers.

I didn’t. But Willow sure did.

My best mate eventually went on to become a Curse breaker, traveling the globe and making me miss her enormously.

And Rose...

She most certainly went on to do great things.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 


The fifth of July, 2027

"Mum!" I called out from the living room.

I could hear the dishes clapping and being washed. She always did it by magic. Not letting me do the same in the meantime, of course.

"What has your pretty little head thought up now?" She responded in turn.

"Um... pancakes." I suggested shyly.

"Tatum..."

"Come on. It isn’t everyday your daughter comes to visit." I said.

"Actually, it is!" Mum yelled from the kitchen.

"Mumsy..."

"Don’t you call me that! You’re sneaky!"

I laughed. "Thanks mum!"

"Urgh, why do I even bother?!"

"Beats me!"

I flipped trough the channels until reaching 'Wiz News', the first magical television program that was inaccessible to muggles. Unless they were married to one of us. Which was dad’s oh so wicked privilege.

I turned the volume up a little when a picture of Rose Weasley popped up on the big screen.

"...And now, a historical moment, not just for her family but for all witches around the world! This morning, Rose Tonks Weasley became the first woman to be named an Auror after Nymphadora Tonks."

"Oh, wow." I gasped. "Mum, come over here! You have to see this!"

She grumbled but did so. She sat next to me on the couch.

"Rose graduated from Hogwarts in the year 2024 as an excellent student with her strongest subjects being DADA and Transfiguration. Rose is the daughter of famous war heroes Ronald Weasley and Hermione Weasley, former Granger, who didn’t want to comment on these news. Oh wait, my partner tells me that the father actually wanted to say something but Rose wished him not to."

"Women have enormous power over us." The male moderator winked to his partner.

I let out an silent 'ew'.

"As soon, and if ever, Rose decides to comment on her success, you will be the first to know, dear viewers. Now, to Luna Scamander and her Egypt story for today...“

I turned off the TV and glanced at my mother.

"Holy Merlin." She gazed at me with wide eyes."That girl has no boundaries! She can do anything!"



 

Mum was almost absolutely right. ’Cause Rose really could and still can do lots of stuff. But it appears that staying sane and collected while planning her own wedding is not one of those things.

 



But, it’s Rose.

Me? I’m not surprised at all.

 



On the other hand, am I shocked to my socks to hear that she is marrying non other than Scorpius Malfoy himself?

Yes, that I most certainly am.

 


















 
Another A/N: So, what do you think?

Good, bad, or just plain horrid? :)

Are you surprised at how Rose turned out? And what about her career choice? What do you think will her relationship with Tatum be like? What about Willow? Like her? Hate her? Tell me what your think! :)
 

 

 


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The Potter Problem: What Goes Around... Comes Back In The Scary Form Of Rose Weasley

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