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Reverse by SpringSinger19
Chapter 7 : King of Anything
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 13


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Thanks for everything guys(: I love you all!



This is a more relaxed chapter. I spent a lot of time on it so I hope you enjoy! It’s a lot longer than my original plan, but I decided to add a few new things to spice it up – thus, the length.



The quote for this chapter is from Sara Bareilles' song "King of Anything."



ENJOY!



--SpringSinger19






The next few weeks were a mix of awkward and pleasant. Not perfect. Never perfect.


But better…better.


Despite imagining it a thousand times, I’d never experienced a Hogwarts while accompanied by Al. It was the best thing that could have ever happened. We spent so much time together in the first few days that it made me truly realize how much I had missed him. There was an incredible plethora of tiny things I had forgotten about him, little quirks that I was delighted to rediscover. Now and then, I found myself worrying that I’d never have enough time for them all. Then, I’d remember.


I had all the time in the world.





The clock was ticking.


Our 5 minute passing period was almost up, and I had yet to arrive at my familiar charms classroom on the 5th floor. It was sure to be another source of conflict between my dear old professor and I, but at the moment, I wasn't exactly concerned with that. Although the two of us had a history of butting heads, I hadn’t intentionally taken the wrong flight of moving stairs that picturesque winter afternoon.


It was a bit of a long story, but the reason I was running late had to do with a lack of social skills, the famous Weasley temper and a sexually perverse painting.


Truth is, I never got along with Wednesdays. They, along with birds, were the bane of my existence, an absolute damper on my entire week. Call me superstitious, but I never expected a good Wednesday or found myself surprised by a bad one. This, of course, was determined by the fact that I barely ever saw my friends all day. Lunch, being determined by 3rd period (and in my case, advanced Arithmancy), ruled out any chance I had of eating and exchanging pleasantries with friends. I wasn’t exactly close with many people besides Alice, Roxanne and Viv, so this made for an incredibly awkward 40 minutes for me. I wasn’t good talking to people I didn’t particularly like or know, so it was usually an uncomfortable experience. Besides, the whole lunch was primarily filled with over-achieving Ravenclaws and 7th years. A few stragglers of different ages came from the odd class, like Ancient Runes. But, for the most part, there weren’t any people my age at that lunch.


Well, I guess there were, but I didn't exactly count Colin Perdue or Michael Barnaby. Sure, Colin couldn’t keep his hands off me, but I still always got the vibe that those two didn’t particularly like me. I know I shouldn’t have cared, but it bothered me all the same.


And it was a combination of all these forces that lead me to, pathetically enough, eating my lunch alone in the antechamber just off the Great Hall. Technically, students weren’t allowed to be in there, but I had gotten quite good at sneaking past my teachers when they weren’t looking. It wasn’t like anyone ever went in there, anyways.
 

The room itself had a homey atmosphere, quite like the Gryffindor common room. It was full of paintings of various sorts and a few cheerful fireplaces. I loved to sit in front of the largest one and lay down on my back, eating the sandwich or biscuit I had snatched when no one was looking.


Sure, it was absolutely pathetic, but I didn’t have an insane amount of friends, and I wasn’t looking to make any new ones. And no, I wasn’t about to go and sit with one of my distant cousins. Sure, we were family, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to exchange my bloody pleasantries with them.


Pleasantries were for real friends.


Anyways, that Wednesday, I had just finished a delicious ham and cheese sandwich and was currently pressed back-down against the cold stone floor – my legs casually bet in front of me and my hands behind my head. I’d already taken off my outer robes and my skirt was hitched up a bit too high. I was quite sure I was flashing a few paintings on the west side of the room, but as the lighting was dim and I knew one of the largest canvas held a band of gay wizard rights advocates – I figured it was alright.
 

It wasn’t.


“My! My!” A deep voice resounded throughout the room.


I sprung up, my heart skipping a beat as I glanced wildly about the room.


“Who said that?” I called as I tried to steady my nerves.


“I, my Lady!” The voice called. “Sir Cadogan the brave!”


I narrowed my eyes, spying around the room for the self-proclaimed ‘Sir.’ I soon found him, a heavily clad, and rather ridiculous looking knight – waving furiously as he pushed aside a few world-weary members of an older Wizengamot.


I stood, walking over to the painting as I crossed my arms.


“So what did you want to say?” I asked sharply, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer.


“Well,” the knight began impishly as he elbowed a few of the older men suggestively, “I was just in shock at that little display.”


Angrily eyeing the knight, I licked my lips before taking in a calming breath.


“And what display would that be?” I asked, feigning a sugary Roxanne-like disposition.
 

At my tone, a weary look crossed the knight’s face and he glanced about at the disapproving glares he was receiving from all other paintings.


“Chose your words carefully, knight,” Violet warned.


Her friend the Fat Lady nodded in agreement as she took a delicate sip of her wine, adding, “You’re treading on thin ice, Cadogan!”


Swallowing awkwardly, he adjusted his posture, not quite as confident as before.


Slowly, the knight began, taking great care as he spoke, “I was simply referring to the less than lady-like length of your skirt. I swear I did not see a thing. I'm too noble for such a deed."


Biting my lip, I stood frozen in place for a second, weighing my options. At that moment, the heat of anger was nothing more than a small flame at the pit of my belly. It was nothing I couldn’t handle. So, after a second, I grabbed my lunch and made my way towards the door.


However, as I was just about to pass over the threshold, Sir Cadogan had the gall to call after me.


“Although, I must say – pink is one of my new favorite colors!”


I paused, stiffening as I turned around and hissed through my teeth, “I thought you said you didn’t look.”


“A hero always peeks!”


Needless to say, 15 minutes and a temper fueled pursuit later, I was breathless and out of drive. This, along with my current state of tardiness, did nothing to help my stress level. Panting, I hurtled up the last few steps and down the brightly lit hallway, knocking over a few first years as I did. I skidded to a halt at the familiar wood and wrought iron door and as carefully as I could, opened the thing and slipped in.


“Ah! Ms. Weasley!” A squeaky voice sounded mockingly from the front of the classroom. “Less than punctual, as always…”


I froze in place, mentally cursing my parents for lack of grace.


I flashed the man a tight smile, “Sorry about that. It’s a long story.”


Professor Flitwick laughed. “Oh, I’m sure it is. What was it this time? Were you chased around Hogwarts by a horde of angry licorice snaps? Did you run into a herd of wild hippogriffs again? Had to bow to all of them before you made your escape?”


“Actually, I swore an unbreakable vow I wouldn't tell."


The little man held up a hand, “I don’t want to hear it. Detention. This Saturday, at 7 PM sharp. Don’t be late again, Weasley.”


Sighing in defeat, I turned, glancing about the crowded classroom for a seat. It didn’t take long to locate Alice and Vi, but to my dismay, they hadn’t saved me a seat.


I glared at the two questioningly, folding my arms.


Alice shrugged guiltily before elbowing Viv. The African beauty turned and laughed at my expression, leaning backwards before discreetly pointing out the Gryffindor boy sitting next to her, mouthing the word ‘fit’ as she did.


I groaned, making my way forward anxiously as I searched the room for a seat. Finally, at the corner, I spotted Scorpius and Al, reclining against the wall. My cousin grinned as Scorpius waved furiously at me and pointed to the seat in front of the two.


I rolled my eyes for the second time that day.


Seeing no other options, I made my way up to the seat as quietly as I could – quite aware of the fact that my professor was burning a hole in the back of my head as I did.
 

As I sat down, I shot a smile at Al before turning and glaring at Scorpius.


“What’d I do?”


I sighed, ignoring my least favorite Gryffindor as I turned back towards the front of the room and tried my best to listen.


We were learning a new spell that day: avis. After listening to what seemed like an hour of in-depth lecture on the word’s Latin roots, I finally figured out that we were to produce a flock of birds.


And how the hell could a damn flock of birds help me in life, you ask?


I’ll never know.


As always when learning a new spell, the first lesson reviewed basics and covered the verbal portion. We never actually did any wandwork until lesson 2 or 3. So, after I determined this, I decided it was safe to let my mind wander.


Sighing quietly, I titled my head to the side and spaced out, my eyes quickly distancing.


I watched my professor blankly, silently wondering how old the man was. He was so short and stout, like one of those munchkins from that Muggle movie Alice and I watched once over the summer. And by the way he was dressed, I couldn’t help but notice that he was the mirror image of the mayor – tiny green suit and everything.


Mayor of Munchkin City. I cracked a smile.


I’d never look at that man the same way again.


However, my grin was quickly silenced by a stern look from my professor. Sighing, I turned my face down to the text book. Soon after, I felt a tug on my hair.


I twisted around to see what the hair-pulling was all about. At the sight of Scorpius, I found myself resisting the urge to roll my eyes again, “What?”


Al’s face split into a smile at my tone. Scorpius shrugged.


“We wanted to hear that long story,” Al whispered.


“Yeah,” Scorpius added, “Did you trip over a pygmy puff on the way over or something?”


I ignored him.


“Two words,” I spoke directly to Al, “Sir. Cadogan.”


My cousin started to laugh, earning a glare from our grumpy professor.


“Mr. Potter,” he warned in a stern voice.


Al nodded, motioning quietly that his lips were sealed. Flitwick narrowed his eyes, glaring at my cousin for a moment before resuming his teachings.


Al took a moment, making sure the coast was clear, before leaning in and whispering, “What happened?”


Thinking of the events that had occurred earlier that day caused an unseemly grimace to befall my formerly average looking face. Quietly, I leaned back, and turned my head slightly to the side before I began to quietly illustrate the tale of my chase about Hogwarts. Truth it, I hadn’t been quite sure why I’d done it – seeing as there really wasn’t much I could do to harm him – but it happened, and that was all there was to it. All throughout my story, Scorpius and Al commented quite frequently, and, at the part where Cadogan finally gave up and begged my forgiveness, Scorpius couldn’t help his volume.


“Bullshit,” Scorpius accused me, only realizing a second later how loud his commentary had actually been.


“That’s it!” Flitwick screeched as he scuttled over to the three of us. “The two of you will be joining Ms. Weasley in detention on Saturday night!”


“I swear it wasn’t me this time, Professor! Honest!” Al implored.


The Professor stared hard at my cousin for a moment before giving in, “Fine. But Mr. Malfoy, I’m still expecting you this weekend. Foul language like that is not permitted on Hogwarts grounds.”


Scorpius shrugged while I groaned. Spending my Saturday night writing lines with Scorpius Malfoy wasn’t exactly my idea of fun.


As the man turned and left the three of us alone once again – Al leaned in, grinning as he spoke, “I didn’t actually expect that to work. He likes me! I knew it.”


Scorpius rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know it. You’re the teacher’s pet; they all love you, blah blah.”


Al shoved his friend. “Shut up. You shouldn’t be talking, Scropy. We all know how Professor Griffiths dotes on you.”


Scorpius’ pale cheeks flushed a slight red causing me to snicker.


“She does not,” he whispered sharply.


“Merlin’s beard, she calls you Scorpy!”


“Change of subject,” Scorpius hissed through his teeth.


As Al opened his mouth to retort, Professor Flitwick interrupted.


“Now,” he began in a high, piercing tone, “I want you all to get into groups of 3 and read the passage on page 146 in your text book about the spell.”


The classroom erupted in conversation as my fellow students called out to their friends and tried to solidify groups.


“No – no – no!” The professor squeaked. “Not until I say so!”


The room silenced.


“Ok,” he continued, a bit flustered, “now go!”


Scorpius laughed, “He really is in a bad mood. You guys want to work together?”
 

I sighed, glancing despairingly at Alice, Viv and the mysterious Gryffindor before turning around to face the two, “Fine.”


So, the three of us began our work. We took turns, each of us reading a bit out loud to the group. Through this, I learned that Scorpius was rather awful at it. Reading out loud seemed so simple, that I couldn’t help but make fun of him for it. Then, after we had finished, and as we were ahead of the rest of the class (we skipped a few pages), Scorpius took the helm and began conversation.


“Soo,” he started, a sly smile curving his lips. “Pink, huh?’


“Class! May I re-direct your attention to the board…”


I huffed angrily, ignoring my teacher as I slapped Malfoy’s hand and turned towards my cousin.


“You know, Al, I don’t see why you’re friends with this pig,” I told him directly. “He’s annoying, and loud, and rude, and has terrible people skills.”


Al grinned quietly, leaning back in his chair as he folded his arms and commented shrewdly, “Oh, so you mean he’s just like you?”


My jaw dropped, and just as I was about to tell him off, the professor jumped in.


“Weasley, Potter, Malfoy! Stop your chatting this instant or there will be further consequences!” Flitwick yelped. “And Potter, you will now be joining your two friends in detention.”


Al sighed unhappily, causing me to smirk. Laughing, I turned around and, still smiling, directed my attention towards the professor.


Things were going right.


And I was finally getting used to it.





Needless to say, it was a good couple of weeks. I almost felt like Al and I laughed and talked enough within the first few days to fill the emptiness of 5 years. But then again, maybe it seemed like such a luxury because we had neglected each other for so long.
 

However, as I said before, it wasn’t perfect.


And that imperfection was due to the seemingly constant presence of a certain Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. No matter what we did or where we went, he was usually there, lingering, and occasionally looking a bit glum and put-off.


His presence made things a bit awkward at times, as neither of us had managed to apologize to the other yet and…we couldn’t stop bickering. Al actually found it quite irritating.


But it wasn’t until after the first quidditch match of the season that he actually said something…





“I’m telling you guys,” I began heatedly as the three of us made our way out of the stadium, “Wood was intentionally blagging. It was a total foul. I can’t believe they didn’t call it. Alice would’ve caught the snitch hands down if that git hadn’t been cheating!”


Personally, I had never really been one for playing quidditch. In fact, I was rather dreadful at it. When my father tried to get me on a broom at age 7, I not only managed to injure myself, but my little brother Hugo. My father liked to call it the Cobbing Incident of 2013.


Don’t. Even. Ask.


Nonetheless, I followed it with a passion only slightly less fanatic than Alice’s. And if she hadn’t just gotten out of the match, the two of us would surely be discussing the injustice that had occurred in the match that day.


So, naturally, I found myself arguing with Scorpius instead. It was always my go-to alternative when I had nothing else to do.


“Oh please!” The blonde growled, leaning over to glare at me from the other side of Al, “Gryffindor’s aren’t known for cheating.”


I frowned.


I hated the infamy my house had acquired for cheating, it just really didn’t help when I was trying to prove its legitimacy. And I hated whenever people brought that up…or any other Slytherin stereotype for that matter.


But I especially hated it when Scorpius was the one that did.


I glared at him, “What an amazing defense, Malfoy. I applaud you.”


Al rolled his eyes, used to my passion for the sport and my constant quarreling with his best friend.


Scorpius stopped, feigning embarrassment, “Oh, I’m sorry, Rosie,” I gritted my teeth at his use of James’ nickname, “I just thought that since you were so quick to label, it’d be OK if I did too.”


I scowled at him as I balled my fists, utterly livid. He was smirking.


Smirking.


Oh Merlin, I hated that boy.


He just couldn’t seem to get over the fact that I accused him of rape…I mean, I probably wouldn’t either, but hey, I woke up in his bed. What else was I supposed to think?


Then again, I doubt that was the only reason we were fighting. Years of resentment on my part and being on the receiving end of said animosity on his were bound to lead to some sort of explosion sooner or later.


I took a shaky breath in a weak attempt to refrain from spitting out the strain of insults on the tip of my tongue.


“Well, Malfoy, you’re giving me reason to, so I apologize for making the assumption.”
 

Pain flashed across his face for a brief second.


And it was at this that Al threw his arms out and turned around to face the two of us, “Honestly, you guys! Can’t you just get over yourselves?!”


I bit my lip.


“You guys are my best mates. I don’t care if you’ll never be buddies but at least try and be civil for me?”


Much to Al’s dismay, I scoffed, “Fat chance of that happening. I honestly don’t know what you see in that prick, Al. He’s just like his father.”


I didn’t really believe that but I knew it would sting. I had meant it to. And I could tell that it had the intended effect by the suddenly blank expression that Scorpius had adopted.
 

“What did you say?” His voice was threateningly low.


I folded my arms and stepped in front of him, presenting a challenge, “Well, let me put it this way, if I’ve said anything to offended you, I meant it.”


“I guess that makes some sense.”


Scorpius and I threw Al an questioning glance.


Looking back and forth between the two of us, the boy shrugged before replying pointedly, “Well it’s only natural. You’re just like your father too, Rose. And your mother.”


I stared blankly at him.


“Genes,” he continued, grinning impishly. “They’re a fascinating thing.”


Scoffing, I folded my arms stubbornly and looked away. Malfoy did the same, but not before cracking a grin.


Kiss-up.



This wasn’t a fight that could be resolved anytime soon…





Anyways, despite the conflict with Scorpius, I also spent a lot of my spare time avoiding James.


He constantly went back and forth between trying to apologize and yell at me. Honestly, I swear that kid was bipolar. I kept trying to tell him that it wasn’t me he should be apologizing to, but he just couldn’t seem to get it through his thick head. He was being a right prick about everything and, in my opinion, had to be quite daft not to realize that. All it would take to fix things was a simple effort on his part. I mean, I missed him, and I know he missed me too. I wanted him to work things out with Vivi, but, until he did, I wouldn’t talk with him. Hoes before bros! Or something like that…
 

Not sure that quite applies, I don't really keep up with that sort of thing, but I’ll go with it…


And then, there were my friends.


Honestly, with my luck, it was a blessing that Alice didn’t have any issues. Oh, well, besides her…newfound thirst for the bloodshed of a very unfortunate, blagging-ly talented Daniel Wood. She had been tormenting him ever since the first quidditch match. The unlucky thing had experienced the wrath of her infamous temper one too many times since…it was a wonder she hadn’t been caught yet. But I guess that was just the Slytherin in her.


And, while it entertained Viv and I to no end, Roxanne was horrified by it. Poor girl…the extra weight on her conscience didn’t help her stress level one bit.


Not that she had any solid reason to stress.


I mean, nothing had happened yet. The Professor hadn’t told on Roxanne or even said a word about it to anyone as far as we knew. But, in my opinion, it was almost worse. While there were no instant ramifications, it was impossible to know what would happen. This little thing wasn’t just going to disappear, no matter how much Roxanne wished it would.


And that was simply torturing her.


If you hadn’t been looking for it, perhaps one may have overlooked the obvious tension between teacher and student. But I, for one, watched carefully from afar, making sure that neither noticed my observations. From the way she looked at him, I could tell that her feelings had not gone away.


And from the way he looked at her, I could tell that such feelings were nonexistent.


I didn’t need to be a Ravenclaw to see that this wasn’t going to turn out well.





Yet another predicament I had assigned myself to fixing was the sour attitude newly assumed by Viviana.


She had been moping about for weeks, out of character even for someone as steely as herself. People had begun to notice and wonder. It took all the strength that Alice and I had not to reprimand her for her excessive sulking.


But eventually, it was too much. So when Alice was gone on another Destroy-Daniel-Wood escapade, I stayed behind and confronted Viv.


“Ok, this is getting out of hand.”


Viv glanced up from the book she was reading, a bored expression masking her true reaction.


“What is?” She asked innocently.


Sighing, I walked over to her bed and sat down.


“You need to give him up, Viv,” I started, “I know you that two were friends but he’s being a stubborn git, and it won’t do you any good to sit around feeling sorry for yourself all day.”


Viviana looked up for a second, making bored eye-contact with me before returning to her book, looking thoroughly uninterested.


“Oh, no you don’t,” I snapped, grabbing the novel from her hands, “you are not ignoring me this time, Viviana Zabini. We are talking about this whether you like it or not.”


The girl glared at me hatefully for a moment, before pointedly turning her nose away.
 

“Viv…?”


“If you want to talk about it than talk!” She barked, interrupting me mid-sentence.


“Ok…” I continued slowly, never taking my eyes off of her, “well I wanted to ask you about James.”


Silence.


“Well what about him?” She inquired crossly.


How long have you had feelings for him?


I opened my mouth, about to ask the question before I saw the miserable look on her face and decided against it.


“I – I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me about him,” I replied pathetically.
 

Viv threw me a disbelieving look, wrinkling her nose. “That’s not a question.”


And for some reason, that set me off.


I felt the familiar markings of my temper run through me and knew that no good could come from this.


“You know, I’ve known you for six years, Viv!” I cried, tossing her book to the side as I stood and began to pace. “Six years! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”


Pain flashed across Viv’s usually impenetrable poker face. “Yes but –”


I lowered my tone, “And yet, even after so long you don’t seem to trust me or Alice. That hurts, Vivi. We’d be there for you if you’d only let us.”


“Rose, if you would just listen –”


“No, Viv,” I whispered quietly, “you listen. We’re your best friends. We’ve been through thick and thin together. You’ve supported us and now it’s time for us to return the favor.”


An uncomfortable still settled in the room, tension arising so thickly that I supposed I could’ve cut it with a knife.


I watched Viv closely as she searched for the words to say. She seemed distant and unreachable. I almost wanted to shake her, as she seemed to have fallen into a dream-like state.


Except I’m not sure it was a dream that she was experiencing…it was a nightmare.
 

“I – I can’t, Rose,” she finally choked out, looking anywhere but me.


“Yes you can, Viv,” I pleaded walking up to the bed and reaching for her hand.


She instantly recoiled, “No, no I can’t. I…just no, Rose…I – I can’t. I’m sorry.”


“Don’t be sorry,” I begged, my heart going out to my friend, “Alice and I can help. We’re here for you and we always will be. Never doubt that. We’ll understand.”


“No.” Viv whispered the word huskily.


At that, she stood, running a hand through her dark, brunette mane as she glanced about the room anxiously.


“I’m sorry.”


And with that, she walked out, leaving me behind feeling even more pathetic and frustrated than before.





It was the first weekend in December and time for our second Hogsmeade trip of the year. I had already missed the first due to an unfortunate intake of cockroach clusters, but now I was up and ready to going.


However, my friends weren’t quite so eager.


Well, at least, Viv wasn’t. She stayed back to partake in her newly frequented activity, sulking -- while Alice on the other hand had talked back to Professor Hollingberry, gotten detention and was therefore unable to attend.


As for Roxanne…well Roxanne had a pity date. Not with Tristan, but with the brother of some Ravenclaw friend of hers…Ethan Clearwater I think the name was.


So, being abandoned by my three closest friends, I had decided to go with Al and Scorpius, both of which did not have dates. This, of course, I expected of Al, he’d only ever had one girlfriend and she’d been the one to ask him out (no need to ask who wore the pants in that relationship…).


But Scorpius, on the other hand…well, let’s just say that he’d had his fair share of dates. He wasn’t a womanizer, but I’d never pin him as in need of a date. And, quite frankly, no matter how much I wanted him to fail in life, I wished he had one…I wasn’t exactly looking forward to spending an entire day in his presence.


As I made my way through the hallways to courtyard, I was carefree. Feeling suddenly a lot better about myself than I had as of late. Things were going right and I had Al by my side.


You know I could get used to this. If only Scorpius wasn’t –



A sudden, rather large sniffling noise interrupted my train of thought. I stopped and turned around, determining quite quickly that the odd noise had come from an empty classroom. I paused, silently debating with myself for a few minutes on whether or not I should investigate.


Whoever said ignorance is bliss is sorely mistaken.


Curious, I lightly pushed open the door and peeked inside to spy none other than…Tristan Longbottom. Instant regret surged through me.


As I tried to quickly and quietly make an escape, a tiny voice followed.
 

“Rose?”


I froze, biting my tongue as to prevent a sudden outburst. Once again, I cursed my parents for the blatant lack of grace.


I guess curiosity really did kill the cat…



Smiling tightly, I turned around and took a step forward, “Oh…uh, Tristan!”


As if he expected me to continue, he kept silent. I shifted awkwardly. There was just something about this boy that made me rather uneasy…why was I always stuck with someone so socially awkward? Dear Circe, why?


“Um, nice to see you again…? You look a slight bit better than you did last time,” I remarked uncomfortably, wondering if that was enough for him to start speaking.


“Oh yeah,” Tristan replied dully, glancing away, “sorry about that.”


Sighing, the boy turned and leaned back against one of the many, empty desks. While doing so, I took the chance to examine him. He seemed different than before. And his current sobriety wasn’t the only change. He appeared more troubled, his eyes flashing angrily ever so often. I could scarcely see any traces of Tristan’s former naivety and restlessness. Still, his eyes were slightly reddened, signaling that he had been close to tears as of late.


I bit my lip with worry, sincerely hoping that Roxanne wasn’t the source of his distress. She really didn’t need any more guilt weighing down on her. Poor girl didn’t handle stress well. Or anything for that matter. I blamed it on the parents.


Strange things happen when a ginger man and a black woman make a baby…


Shaking my thoughts off, I began to speak, “Yeah, well…uh, sorry to interrupt?”


Tristan looked up slowly, shrugged and cast his eyes off in a different direction, bad memories glazing over his otherwise dull gaze.


At the clear dismissal, I fled the room, having to work very hard in order not to run. Exiting the classroom, I practically ran into Al and Scorpius, both of which were waiting outside.


“What are you guys doing here?” I questioned automatically, crossing over to Al’s side.


“Well,” Scorpius started immediately, “if you hadn’t already forgotten, we’re all, unfortunately, going to Hogsmeade together.”


I shot him a glare.


Leaning casually back against the wall, Scorpius Malfoy was the perfect depiction of a careless teenage boy. Mischief swam within his green-eyed gaze and his wind-blown hair fell across his eyes just so…in a way, that would’ve agitated Al to no end, but didn’t seem to bother Scorpius.


Stupid wanker…stupid attractive wanker…
I paused mid-way through the thought, completely horrified. I might have to kill myself for that.


“Really?!” I asked, my tone positively dripping with sarcasm, “I had absolutely no idea! Thank you for enlightening me, Malfoy. I don’t know what I would do without you.”


He rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the wall.


“It was my pleasure,” he replied with equal sarcasm, before adding a drawn out, “Rose,” for extra measure.


Al glanced back and forth between the two of us, unsure of how to respond.


“But, you know, Malfoy,” I added after a moment’s silence, “if you don’t want to go, no one’s forcing you…and honestly, I’d really rather you not.”


Malfoy frowned for only a second before countering, “Well if I wasn’t around, then there wouldn’t be anyone else there to torment you. And it’s simply just too much fun to leave alone.”


“And, you don’t have any other friends,” I finished for him, smirking as I folded my arms.


Scorpius grinned threateningly, taking a step forward, “Actually I believe it’s you lacking in that certain department, Rosie. You were the last minute addition, not me.”


I scowled tightly. Git.


Desperately searching for something to say, I spat out the first thing that came to mind.


“You know, isn’t this the point where you’re supposed to tell me that if I’m not careful, my face will freeze like this?” I asked mockingly.


Al groaned, “So is immaturity a regular thing for you Rose? Or is this a recent development?”


We both ignored him.


“Oh, it is? Then it’s such a shame that I’ve grown up a bit since then. I guess we’ll have to deal with being adults. Or at least, I will. Like Al said, I’m not so sure, you’ve changed much since then, Rose.”


Stupid wanker wouldn’t call me Weasley!
I practically growled. I wasn't sure why it bothered me, but for some reason, it did.


At my outraged expression, a rather uncomfortable Albus stepped in.


“Guys,” his tone signaled a warning as he glanced back and forth between the two of us.


I rolled my eyes and took a step back. If only for Al’s sake, I’d try to be civil.


Though from the look on Malfoy’s face, I wasn’t quite so sure he’d do the same.





Did you like? I had more fun writing it than I expected so maybe it wasn’t all that bad to read. It’s a bit choppy though soooo…yeah. Sorry I couldn’t include the actual quidditch scene, this chapter was getting a bit long. I promise you’ll see one soon, though!



Still, I’d love to hear your thoughts!(: Why do you think Viv is being so difficult? Why won’t she get over James? What do you think about Rose so far? Al? Scorpius
?


By the way, credit goes to Beeezie and puppyluv242 for the hippogriff, unbreakable vow and pygmy puff lines!


Thanks for reading! And if you love Reverse, please support it in the Dobby awards(: it'd mean the world to me.


--SpringSinger19



 


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