Chapter 1 : Monday
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A loud hoot comes from my owl, Sparky, interrupting my peaceful slumber. Upset, I mumble nonsense into my pillow.
Walking up really is one of my least favorite activities. Or, better yet, one of my most despised activities. There, that sounds a bit more positive, doesn’t it? (I’ll have you know, I’ve always considered myself a bit of optimist). Besides, it’s the last monday before Christmas holidays, and I’m hardly in the mood to learn. I’d much prefer sleeping.
However, being the warrior that I am, I struggle through the ordeal and manage to get myself out of bed.
Leaving the comfort of my warm blankets behind, I make the pilgrimage to the lavatory. The other girls must have gotten up early this morning because I have the bathroom all to myself. I walk in and turn my back to the mirror and pull my face into the oddest expression I can muster. Then, quickly whipping around, I catch a glimpse of my ridiculousness. After having a good stare, I relax my face, letting it return to normal.
I do this every morning. That way, when I see my ‘normal’ face, I feel like I look better in comparison; strange yet effective. It helps boost my confianza en si misma.
(That means self confidence; mum thought it would be neato for me to learn a second langauge. Three years of espanola and I know about four words. Oh well.)
After viewing the bags under my eyes, a small blemish that is still noticeable despite my freckles, and my messy hair, I conclude that my confidence booster isn’t working today.
I still think I look like a teen who just rolled out of bed.
This, although true, doesn’t exactly go with the alluring and professional persona I try to pull off.
Dismayed, I pull my dark red hair into a loose bun and slop on some facial goop that Victoire swears by, which should hopefully improve my less than perfection complexion. Oh, and of course I brush my teeth. Grandpop and Grandmom Granger would probably have a heart attack if they thought I wasn’t practicing proper dental hygiene.
Cavities now thwarted, I walk back towards my bed only to catch a glimpse of the clock. The time reads 8:02.
"Bloody hell," I groan, frustrated at my own stupidity. Of course, none of the other girls are here, because then can all manage to wake up on bloody time.
I quickly finish getting ready, and hightail it to the Great Hall. I oversleep just a little bit, and now I’ve lost a lot of valuable eating time.
I need food.
An underfed Rose Weasely is a dangerous Rose Weasely.
Determined by the prospect of sausage and toast, I pray that no one will get in my way.
I’m in a hurry here!
"Oi! What’s the hurry?" Eileen Wood says in a sickeningly sweet voice as I nearly run her over.
I skid to a halt just in time, preventing me from flattening her. I consider moving on, but I figure taking a minute for a quick chat can’t hurt. We’re not exactly close mates, but it would be rude if I didn’t at least stop to say hello.
"Oh, Eileen, I didn’t even see you there! I’m sorry, I was just on my way to breakfast."
She waves her hand in a ‘don’t worry about it’ kind of way and smiles kindly.
"So anyway, did you hear the big news?"
She’s a Hufflepuff and the biggest gossip in 6th year. If there’s gossip, she finds it.
"That thing about Lenny Rodgers and the toads?" I question, not wanting to be behind on the latest scandal.
I’m not as bad as Eileen, but I like to know what’s up, if you know what I mean.
"Oh puh-lease, this is soo much bigger. You see," she pauses for dramatic effect and beckons me closer before continuing. "Rose Weasley is…PREGNANT."
"WHAT THE FRENCH TOAST?" I scream, my vision going red in fury.
(Okay, so maybe my vision didn’t turn red, but I was mad enough that it could have happed).
She then has the audacity to giggle before continuing, "I know! Who would have thought? People assume Malfoy is the father, but who knows with that one…"
I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. This is just ridiculous! "Do you not realize that I, as in the person you are talking to, am Rose Weasley?"
The color drains from her face, "Um…whoops? I best be off," she says awkwardly, practically sprinting down the corridor and out of my sight.
Damn Wood is so eager to spread her rubbish that she didn’t even realize she was dishing about me, to me! I can’t believe she would be that thick.
Oh Merlin, if she would even tell me, I can't help but wonder who else she is saying this to…
My mind flashes to my many relatives around Hogwarts who could potentially hear this rumor, and suddenly, I’m not so hungry any more.
A/N: I know this is short, but it's more of a prologue of sorts than an actual chapter. I've been wanting to write this story for ever, so I finally did it! I feel so bad that poor Rose is a teen mom in a million fanfics out there, so I decided to make a cliche-filled comedy out of it and let her clear her name. (:
Hope you like it!