The night is sprinkled with fire.

Rosalie feels the sparks in the air, tingling her skin. And then the flames erupt to the sky, Thomas's reflection glittering in the inferno. There is a smile on his torn lips, blood leaking from a stab-wound on his stomach; if she hadn't released the heat of her magic into the air, all four of them would've had flowers adorning their graves.

And then she sees it, the blame she only puts on herself, before she's awake and panting. Sweaty bangs stick to her forehead, and with a quick swipe and sigh, she's out of bed and looking out the window.

Every wall, according to her torn mind, will collapse on her at any moment. Fire-burning beams will crush her body, and then her blood-covered face will still, eyes too blank to be alive — and Thomas and Delilah will stay dead.

It's what she has to remind herself with when dreaming of that blond Death Eater, and when all the what-ifs plague her mind.

Because no matter what she did, someone would've died.

And yet, it's too much; these walls are too much, this perfect hospitality is too much, and she doesn't deserve —

Rosalie leaves the room.

Having escaped her confines — it's too large, too rich, too much of a life she hardly deserves — and now in the large backyard, it feels too perfect. The sky is perfectly dark, no cloud in the sky, stars glowing on the greenery.

Wandering around the Potters' incredibly large backyard, weaving through vines, decorative plants, and lush foliage, Rosalie feels the cool breeze tickle her skin. Fireflies buzz past her, twinkling like fairies, and the light emitting from Rosalie's wand guides the way.

And in the middle of the garden is a large, brown bench, perfect for rest. Rosalie sits there, just observing, letting her thoughts drive her mind rather than her body — and there, she's at peace, before she's walking again.

Nothing to interrupt her nights. No visions to slice through her everyday life and pull her into the past, like she's an invisible ghost — like she doesn't fit with the world. Rosalie Edson belongs in the present, with her loved ones safe, and her mind intact.

(But that isn't true. Her visions are gone, but their lives were the price.)

The new shoes Effie bought — as a surprise gift, Rosalie may add — leave footprints behind her as the leaves crunch beneath her. The moon shines a soft glow on her face. She stops walking, looking up, and then breathes.

And then her breath catches when she sees him.

She's supposed to hate Sirius Black — but she fancies him, instead.

Yes, the annoying buffoon who constantly calls her a chipmunk, shoves her around, and annoys her to death. And she doesn't know what to do about it.

He ruined her project back in their second year, and sure she was bossy and terrible to him in return. Then a flurry of prank wars and biting insults only snowballed into their relationship today. He made her cry with his stupid words; so she secretly hexed him the next day. And Rosalie Edson can very much hold grudges, especially for annoying gnats like him.

But he looks angelic, and Rosalie has their moments together memorised: how he bought a diary for her and apologised for being a dick, how he vowed to help her find out the cause of her visions before she lost them, the way he holds her hands, how they both are in it together.

How dare he be so handsome in the moonlight, the stupid monkey. Rosalie hates him, despises him, abhors him, wishes him hurt — preferably for someone to punch his face so he doesn't look so beautiful anymore. And maybe that same person can punch all of Rosalie's feelings out of her heart.

She doesn't want to disturb him. He's by the small pond the Potters own, skipping stones at the edge with a surprising amount of focus.

A part of Rosalie wants to head back before he notices her, pretending that she isn't pulled to sit next to him. She can listen to her logical brain and leave before he teases her for being out this late.

Rosalie decides to take her chances.

"Sirius," she calls, keeping her voice semi-quiet, before sitting on the dirt next to him. Her jeans will be fine — she's prepared to sit and walk and spend the whole night awake.

"Rosalie," he replies, surprise flashing in his features. Her stomach tumbles. "You're up late."

A smile curves on her lips. "You're one to talk."

He chuckles. "That is true."

"Who knew," Rosalie teases, grinning, "that Sirius Black would be skipping stones, alone, brooding late in the night, right before he needs to go to school to brood some more —"

Sirius shoves her, and she falls to the ground, still laughing.

"Shut up," he grumbles. "I am not brooding, you chipmunk."

"You're in denial," she sings, rising from the ground, leaves lodged into her messy hair. Poking his chest, she grins at his grumpy face. "You are very much brooding. Sirius Black, the lone wolf ..."

He captures her wrist with his own hand, and she stares, voice trailing off.

"You don't know the irony of that sentence, Rosalie," he murmurs, and Rosalie's breath catches in her chest. "Did you know everything with those visions of yours?"

"No," she says softly. "I saw some things over and over again."

"Like your father," he states, and at her nod, his hand slides past her wrist and settles for her palm. "I'm sorry."

Rosalie shakes her head, seizing the moment, moving her hands and joining their fingers together. She squeezes his hand once, smiling.

"I'm happy now," she says. "Even if they're gone, I'll learn to live. I'm free."

"Good," he replies.

Rosalie stares at their intertwined fingers, not wanting to let go.

And so she doesn't, even when Sirius places their hands on the ground, even when he gently removes the leaves from her tangled, wild hair. Even when they decide to head back, and she chooses to let go, heading back to her room, she imagines his hand on hers.

It's selfish, but Rosalie sees herself being happy after long months of grief. Her two days at the Potters have been nothing but enjoyable: playing Quidditch, talking, destroying her friends at board games, and even hanging out with James's reclusive dog, who she finds out about the morning she's supposed to leave.

"I brought him to school last year, remember?" James asks.

Rosalie ohhhhs. "I remember that."

"You're free to pet him, if you want," he offers.

She grins.

"Come here, cutie!" she says excitedly, when James promises her that it's safe. "You're the cutest dog, you know? Such a good boy!"

The large black dog lets her scratch his ears, strangely smug for a reason Rosalie can't pinpoint. James, however, looks like he was trying not to laugh, but Rosalie doesn't care. This dog painfully reminds her of Artemis, the dog she lost when she was ten. Artemis was the reason why little Rosalie dragged Hana by the pinky to meet Thomas and Delilah, who were busy petting the adorable dog in the park.

Five years later, they all lost Artemis to cancer. Rosalie's learned to move on from her grief, but little things like other dogs bring it back.

And now, she's lost more than just her dog.

"You shouldn't pamper the dog too much," James tells her. "He gets arrogant."

Rosalie laughs. "Don't be silly! What's his name, anyway?"

"Er — that's irrelevant!" James says quickly. Rosalie raises a brow at the panic in his tone. "You can nickname him, if you want. He'll respond to anything, the jerk — ah!" The dog nips at his fingers. "Bad! Bad dog!"

Said dog only huffs, before performing a gesture that vaguely looks like he's blowing a raspberry. Rosalie tries not to question it.

"Hmm, what nickname can I give him?" Rosalie murmurs, before remembering the dog that Artemis used to play with on Sundays, when her whole family would visit the dog park. "Aha! Snuffles."

"Snuffles?" James asks, an amused smile on his face. The black dog barks at him, as if telling him to shut up. "That's an interesting name."

"It's sentimental," Rosalie admits, kissing the dog on its head. It lets out a surprised bark, before turning away shyly. "Aw, are you shy? It's okay!"

James laughs so loud that she's pretty sure Effie and Monty could hear it from inside the house. And that is that; the dog disappears, and no matter how much she pesters James about it, he won't give a sliver of information about him up.

Now, Rosalie's heading downstairs, hoping to memorise the Potter manor before she leaves. Her trunk of school supplies feels heavy in her arms as she lugs it down the stairs, setting it in the living room with James and Sirius's items.

"Rosalie!" James calls out, and Rosalie turns to him, grinning. "I have something for you."

Her eyes narrow. "The last time you gave me a gift, the soot covered my face for three hours, James Potter."

He shakes his head, both arms behind his back, presumably holding her present. "This is a good surprise, I swear."

She sighs. "Alright, what is it?"

"This is super late," James starts, hair rumpled and eyes covered by his spectacles. He hands Rosalie a leatherbound journal, and her scepticism melts away. "Here. I know this won't make up for your old journal, or Sirius's joke one, but it's a journal."

Wordlessly, Rosalie hugs him. Nothing is needed between the two friends, but Rosalie's expression says enough. Even if she doesn't need this, due to her lack of visions, he remembered something from months ago, just for her.

Just for her. Rosalie wants to cry.

James grins after Rosalie lets him go. "You're welcome, Rosalie."

"You don't know what this means to me," Rosalie says seriously, smiling at him. "You're one of my best friends, really, thank you —"

"Yes!" he exclaims, startling her. "Sirius, I got her to admit it!"

Sirius walks in from the kitchen, flicking the side of Rosalie's head. "About time."

"It's not that big of a deal." An almost goofy smile flickers on Rosalie's face, before she smacks Sirius upside the head (softly). "I thought you'd be mad, Sirius, considering that James likes me more than you —"

Sirius scoffs. "In your dreams, love."

Rosalie coughs. "Delusional."

James snickers at Sirius's aghast expression.

"I won," Rosalie says proudly. "The journal is evidence enough. I'm glad to have a best friend like him."

"You're just fueling his ego," Sirius grumbles, the jealous baboon he is.

"I'm gonna tell Acacia," James says elatedly, to the horror of Rosalie, "and then I'm going to parade it all around Hogwarts —"

"I made a mistake, didn't I?" Rosalie murmurs, James obliviously grabbing Rosalie's hand and dragging her towards the dining hall.

"You did," Sirius says gleefully, following them. "Enjoy being dead."

"Shove off," Rosalie grumbles. "I hate you."

His arrogant smile makes him look punchable, and this is coming from the girl who fancies him. "Don't add lying to your list of crimes —"

Rosalie flushes, go figure. "If you don't shut the —"

"Be quiet, you two," James scolds. "I need to break the news."

"To who?" Rosalie asks, aghast.

"My parents, of course!" James chirps, snickering at her expression. "This is the best day ever."

"This is torture," Rosalie grumbles, acting like a miffed old lady. "You even think about telling Acacia, and I'll take it back."

James drops her hand and gasps. "You wouldn't."

Effie and Monty, seated at the dining table, exchange amused glances.

"She would," Sirius adds.

Rosalie nods, reaching to sweep her bangs. "He's right, surprisingly."

"I'm always right."

"No, you're Sirius —"

James snickers. "She has you there, mate."

"I'm being ganged up on," Sirius complains.

"Pity, dear," Effie mutters, unbothered. "Have fun."

Monty coughs. "Maybe if you didn't play the game in the first place —"

"You hypocrite," Effie scolds. "Remember what you did with me?"

"He flirted with you as a joke?" Rosalie's eyes widen. "That's terrible."

Sirius raises a brow. "Why did you assume that he flirted?"

"Um," Rosalie starts, "because they're a couple, and Effie said games, and you know, I just connected the dots, and —"

"My cupid's in denial," James sings under his breath, cutting off Rosalie's ramble. "Ironic."

"Maybe I'll tell Lily about your quidditch failures that I witnessed," Rosalie threatens lowly, talking about the tricks that James hilariously failed to try in his yard. "And then we can laugh about them together."

James places a hand on his heart. "Cruel, Edson."

"Effective," Rosalie corrects.

"I can hear you," Sirius says, irritated.

"Wonderful," Rosalie mutters, kneading a hand through her dark hair. "I wasn't aware you had ears, too, Black. Fabulous."

"Can I adopt you?" Monty asks.

Effie coughs. "No, dear, that would be incest —"

Both Rosalie and Sirius turn red as James lets out the loudest cackle known to man. Rosalie glances at Sirius's tomato face, then touches her own. Fine, maybe he might like her back, just a little bit.

But it doesn't change a thing!

It changes everything, damn it.

And in fact, Sirius doesn't even gloat when Rosalie launches into another ramble that they need to make it to Hogwarts. He's a lot more composed with his distraction, and the two run to grab their trunks, ignoring the laughing of Effie, Monty, and James.

Stupid Potters, ruining her denial.

The rest of leaving is a blur for Rosalie. She stuffs the journal in one of her trunks, and the five of them Floo back to Sparrow Housings. Between goodbyes, promises to visit, and a new start, Rosalie starts to feel dread in her stomach.

She's going to miss Euphemia and Fleamont Potter. She's going to miss the Potter's welcoming house, the games they all played, and the nights of fun they had.

She's going to miss the lack of the real world, because her quiet days are gone.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The moment Rosalie returned to Sparrow with her supplies, she was bombarded with questions. Now that Samira and Dirk are finally dating, hand-in-hand, the first one came from a mischievous Diana, asking about Sirius. The next few days were spent packing, avoiding the glint in Diana and David's eyes, cutting her hair short, and tracing the faces of her family portraits as she got into a new habit of journaling.

James giving her the new journal is a fresh start for Rosalie. Besides, journaling is her therapy substitution. She'll be fine.

And now, she has a new wizarding photo of her and Sirius, the latter whose head is replaced with a pumpkin. She briefly snickers at it, before placing it in her trunk.

"Rosalie?" Diana calls, and then peeks in. "Damn, this room is dull."

"I'm probably not returning," Rosalie admits, playing with a ripped seam in her shirt. Her canvases are packed in another trunk, and she grips a coffee cup with her free hand. "So, I've packed all my paintings. Besides, after this year, I'll be out of Hogwarts. Acacia and I always planned to move in together."

"Fair enough," Diana agrees, honey-coloured eyes glinting in the sun. Rosalie notes how gold she looks, like she's meant to dance with the stars above, to waltz with the sun itself. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Rosalie says, biting her chapped lip. Yvonne's gifted chapstick, thankfully, improved the roughness, but Rosalie still finds herself wanting to peel the excess skin. "I might need help, though."

Diana frowns. "Just use Wingardium Leviosa?"

Rosalie's eyes widen. "I'm an idiot."

"That you are," David agrees, hair tamed with a light amount of gel. He's already in his robes, a blue tie hanging on his collar. "And you're also late."

"For what?" Diana asks. "We're not due to leave in another thirty minutes."

Rosalie sips her coffee. "Maybe for a proper goodbye."

"Aw, Rosalie!" David coos, wiping fake tears from his eyes.

She arches her brow. "I meant with the coffee machine."

"Uh huh," David drawls, dark eyes narrowed. "You're becoming ruder and ruder. Is it Yvonne's constant presence?"

"She's going to kill you for that," Diana points out helpfully.

"I am going to kill you for that," Yvonne agrees. The three teens jump, but Rosalie's still surprised by the amused smirk on her lips as she leans against the doorframe. "And I'm sending you off; you're all late."

"You already apologised," Diana points out, "and took most of my chores —"

"Which I already do when you're gone," Yvonne argues.

"But not in bulk —"

"Guys," Rosalie interrupts. "Let's just go. It's too late to change anything, anyway. Plus, Yvonne didn't even take your tasks for long, Diana. She can handle it."

Yvonne nods, like she's approving of Rosalie's words. Considering that she still beats Rosalie's arse in training, it's still a miracle to witness.

David grins. "Love you, Eve!"

"You're still dead to me, Kaur," she says swiftly, before letting her lips bloom into a full smile. If anything, David looks even more horrified. "And you're also not punctual, at all. It's a problem."

"Er," David says. "I shall endeavour to fix that!"

"Right," Yvonne draws out. "Well? Aren't you coming?"

Rosalie gives her a thumbs up, and the next five minutes is spent levitating her luggage to the living room. Everyone else is already there; Samira and Dirk are talking while holding hands, Tori is fiddling with her trunk, Aryan and Asahi are in a heated debate about pens and quills (Rosalie immediately thinks of Acacia), and Charlie is dozing off on Samira.

Diana, Rosalie, and David join the pen and quills argument, and the latter side ends up winning fairly quickly.

"Hello, everyone," Yvonne says, and everyone stops talking. Even Charlie groggily opens his eyes. "I've apologised for my behaviour earlier, but I'd like to extend another apology, as well as a goodbye. For too long, this house held terrible memories for all of us: it's a living reminder that we lost the people we loved. But we made a family together, and even if you're all in school and I'm here, I'll always remember that."

"I'll be here for Christmas!" Samira calls out, and Yvonne gives her another rare smile.

Rosalie's aghast, really. Her friend smiled two times in one day. Maybe this moment really is a dream.

David voices Rosalie's thoughts. "Am I sleeping?"

She pinches him, and he yelps. "Surprisingly, no."

"Thank you, Samira," Yvonne says, and everyone goes silent again. "I'd like to say a proper goodbye. Even if I may never see some of you again, I hope you'll all remember that we are a family. We burn bright, even in tragedy — and that's what makes us strong. I hope to see you all succeeding outside of Hogwarts, but more importantly, staying safe."

"We love you, Yvonne!" Aryan tearfully calls.

"That was beautiful," Rosalie says honestly, "and I really will miss you all. I'm not coming back next year, but I hope we can stay in touch."

Everyone starts talking loudly, sobbing, saying goodbye, and eventually they all calm down to exchange addresses, with promises of writing letters to Yvonne so she doesn't go insane all alone.

And with that, Rosalie asks the question that's been burning in her mind: "Do we go through the fire or the drop-off spot?"

"Drop-off," Aryan says, and Rosalie can't tell if he's laughing at her or something else. "The fireplace is for Dumbledore to drop in students from other houses."

The knot in Rosalie's shoulder relaxes.

"Hey," Diana whispers, pulling Rosalie into a hug. She startles, but quickly relaxes, settling her palms on Diana's back. "If you want to return for Christmas, we'll go through the fire together, okay?"

Hot tears prick the corners of Rosalie's eyes. "Thank you. And if you need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here."

Diana grins, releasing Rosalie from her grip. "I'll keep that in mind."

Next thing she knows, David's slinging an arm around her and dragging her away with the rest of Sparrow Housings' members, while singing a terrible rendition of "Ten Green Bottles". Rosalie turns to look at Diana, who waves with a mirthful smile, hanging back with Tori and Bertram, hands tightly gripping their arms to pull them forward.

"Ten green bottles hanging on the wall," David crows, and Rosalie groans, attempting to cover her ears. "Ten green bottles hanging on the wall, and if one green bottle should accidentally fall —"

"There'll be nine green bottles hanging on the wall," Samira continues, to the chagrin of Dirk. But at least her singing voice is beautiful, unlike the ear-killer that is David's. "Nine green bottles —"

The singing continues even in the tunnel, switching between various nursery rhymes. Rosalie joins in at some, and everyone's terrible singing echoes underground, with the groans of Bertram going unnoticed.

It's beautiful, being harmonious with a group of teens she worked with for a month, almost like they're family. And to Rosalie, they might as well be, with her biological family either dead or hidden away in the shadows.

By the time they reach the drop-off spot and shuffle their way onto a summoned Knight Bus many, many blocks later, Rosalie deals with Diana and David's relentless bickering, and both the dread and excitement she feels.

It's been days since Amala's interview with Rosalie was released. She doubts anyone would remember it. But on the off chance they did, she's dead, with only her friends to guard her, who she hasn't spoken to in months besides the bare letters detailing very mundane days.

She can't burden them with anything else. And that is something that both her mind and heart agree on; they can never know her sanctuary and her misery, or the latter will become theirs, too.

God, Rosalie hopes they're okay.

"Rosalie?" Diana calls, and the older girl manages a small smile of acknowledgment. "We're splitting into separate groups now."

"Right," Rosalie repeats, words dead on her tongue.

Diana frowns. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Rosalie tells her — no, lies to her. A hand runs through coarse and thinned hair that's weak from a lack of combing. Various spells were used so she could look semi appropriate, but even Rosalie knows she looks deader than she did last year. "Don't worry."

"That's hard to do," Diana hums, but seemingly accepts the answer. "You'll come with me and David, alright?"

A small, genuine smile makes it to Rosalie's lips. "Sounds good."

Rosalie begins loading her trunks into a cart as Diana informs David of their little trio. She has quick, final goodbyes with the rest of the group, heart heavy when Samira takes Dirk and Charlie away.

"Perfect!" David crows after receiving the news, unfiltered glee in his wild eyes as he drapes an arm around Rosalie's shoulders. Somehow, he manages to push his cart steadily with one hand. "Me and my favourite person. Oh, and Diana."

"You're hilarious," Diana drawls, rolling her eyes at David's exaggerated wink. "Besides, Rosalie likes me better. She said so herself."

"Please," David says, nudging Rosalie. "Rosie was just too scared of my charm."

Amused, Rosalie's lip curls in a half-smile. "Was I?"

David nods, practically pushing a limp Rosalie (and her cart) to King's Cross. "Only explanation."

"Well, I like you both," she decides.

"Which one do you like more, though?" Diana presses. David sticking his tongue out only makes her smile wider. "Who's been nicer to you, Rosalie?"

"David does bully me," Rosalie begins thoughtfully.

"Hey!" David grumbles. "It's with love."

Diana narrows her eyes. "Is it?"

David pouts, an exaggerated thing that makes even Diana smile. "Well, I only say things because I —"

"Pillar," Rosalie warns.

"No, not because 'I pillar' — ah!" David's cart slams into a pillar, and he yelps. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"I did," Rosalie says drily. "What did you think I meant?"

"He's an idiot," Diana points out, and grins at a scowling David. "We'll never know what goes on in that pea-sized brain of his."

David scoffs. "Don't be fucking —"

"Acacia!" Rosalie exclaims, the sight of her best friend warming everything in her life.

David frowns, as if what Rosalie said is the greatest mystery in the universe. "Well, yes, Diana shouldn't be screwing your friend, but —"

Acacia, who's with her brother, his wife, and their child, spots her. "Rosalie!"

The two friends abandon their carts, and in the middle of rushing people, find a way to crush each other in a tight hug.

"I missed you," Rosalie says tearily.

"I missed you more," her friend laments, before gasping. "You cut your hair! Wow, it looks beautiful."

"Thanks," Rosalie says, before her eyes widen. "And is this baby Kaci?"

Letting her friend go, Acacia beams. "Yes!"

"She's adorable," Diana gushes, before giving her friend a short hug, all while Rosalie watches Acacia's niece with a big smile. "Nice to see you again."

"You too," Acacia says, all while David awkwardly waves at Acacia's very confused family.

"I'm David," he offers at Acacia's bemused expression.

"A friend," Diana confirms.

"Aw, how sweet," David sings, only to get smacked.

Acacia snorts. "Nice to meet you, David. This is my brother, Henry, and my sister-in-law, Jacinta. The baby's my niece, Kaci."

"You're famous in our house," Jacinta bluntly tells Rosalie, all while Acacia protests. "No, seriously. All she talks about is you and her boyfriend."

Rosalie laughs. "All good things, I hope."

"This is embarrassing," Acacia informs Diana, who laughs.

"You know" Jacinta says, shaking her head with a faint fondness that Rosalie doesn't know how to describe, "one time, as she was talking about how you beat her boyfriend in Uno, she tripped and fell on the carpet."

Acacia sighs. "It happened one time!"

"Two," Jacinta's husband points out.

"Stop exposing me," Acacia complains.

"Never."

The sibling resemblance is shown in the mischievous glint in his eyes. Henry, the silent golden child, with the small spark that changed Acacia's whole life for reasons Rosalie will never know.

"You're a pain, you know that?" Acacia tells him, and he only laughs at her.

"We should get to the train," David points out helpfully, who's been making silly faces at baby Kaci for her entertainment.

"Yes, we got distracted." Henry checks his watch. "I have a shift in an hour. Have a good year, Acacia."

Acacia nods. "Don't forget."

He tilts his head. "Forget what?"

The expression on Rosalie's best friend is something she's never seen before, but then again, she's never met Henry or Jacinta or Kaci.

"You're human," Acacia tells her brother, sounding like an echo of herself. "And you'll figure it out. Bye, now."

Jacinta kisses her sister-in-law's forehead. "Stay safe, Acacia."

Kaci babbles something unintelligible, and the three walk away, leaving four very awkward teenagers to bumble their way to their train.

And it takes a few minutes of small talk, introductions, and Rosalie and David pretending they just met after Rosalie happened to run into him and Diana.

"It was unexpected, for sure," David says, and the pure sarcasm in his tone causes Diana to pinch his shoulder. "Fucking hell, woman!"

"You deserved it," Diana says coolly.

"Seconded," Rosalie teases.

Acacia smiles. "I would say thirded, but we're here."

Sighing, Rosalie adjusts her hair, and then clothing. "Here we go."

David and Diana exchange looks, knowing exactly what she's talking about. No matter how much the three avoided it, they all know exactly who has problems with Rosalie now, all for an article detailing the suffering that's meant to be heard.

"You'll be okay," Acacia says softly, squeezing her hand. "I won't let them hurt you."

Rosalie sets her jaw. "Neither will I."

Acacia nods, but Rosalie notices the glimmer of surprise in her expression. But she takes it as a positive development, as a way to make her own path.

After all, facing tragedy would change anyone.

"Ready?" Acacia asks, and with Rosalie's nod, the four walk through the wall, make it on the train, and then say their goodbyes.

After parting from Diana and David, exchanging a hug with Drake (who arrived early, as usual), and bumping into Lily right after her prefect meeting, Rosalie's feeling much better. Her friend, the new Head Girl to James's Head Boy, is enthusiastic about her new job, talking about her privileges and the large new room she gets to herself.

"You're sharing your Commons with James, you know," Rosalie points out. She's still beaming from Lily's previous congratulations ("That interview you had was so well written, Rosalie!") and her compliments ("Your new hair is beautiful, Rosalie!"). "How are you feeling about that?"

Lily bites her lip, and surprises Rosalie with: "It could be worse. He's sweet."

Laughing, Rosalie ruffle's Lily's locks. "He'll pass out if you tell him that."

"Would he?" Lily asks, and Rosalie realises that her friend is blushing. Being a matchmaker is working, holy shit! "I mean, it is the truth."

"You'd need to resurrect him from the dead if you told him that," Rosalie continues, her dry tone making Lily laugh. "Mouth-to-mouth. Then he'd die again."

"Wouldn't that just be a destructive cycle?" Lily asks, but Rosalie notices her reddening cheeks and is already imagining shoving her friends in an empty compartment. "Like, he'd just keep dying ..."

Grinning, Rosalie nudges her mischievously. "You would enjoy it too, kissing him."

"You're being influenced," Lily grumpily tells her, but her face is redder than her hair. "It's Sirius, I'm telling you."

"No way," Rosalie says, shaking her head. "I influence him. Not the other way around — wait, you didn't deny it!"

"I — well —" Lily flounders, and then covers her face. "Don't tell James. Please."

Rosalie gives her a blank stare. "He's literally in love with you. In fact, he told you that he's in love with —"

"Lily?" a voice asks, and Rosalie stiffens.

"Severus," Lily replies, voice cool. "I thought I told you to stay away."

"Just listen to me —" he begs.

Rosalie scowls. Hell, no!

"No," Lily says bluntly. "I don't have time for false promises, or forgiving blood purists. You picked your side."

"With her?" Snape asks, pointing to Rosalie with an expression of disgust. "And Potter? The disgusting little —"

"Go wash your hair before you call someone disgusting," Rosalie sneers at him. "James is a wonderful friend, and unlike you, has basic human decency. You chose to hate people like Lily and I. How can you expect her to forgive you when you can't even accept a part of her identity?"

"You're the one who named me in that article," he snarls, completely changing his strategy when Lily doesn't seem to budge. Instead, he charges towards Rosalie with pure hatred marring his face. "You Mudblood bitch —"

Rosalie draws her wand out, and Lily follows. "Don't make a scene, Snape. Wouldn't want your slimy guts on the train, would you?"

He snarls. "I would destroy you in a second —"

A jet of light hits him square in the chest, and he falls to the floor, paralyzed.

"What were you saying?" Rosalie asks innocently.

"Wow," Lily says, eyes widening. "How did you do that so quickly?"

"I had a good teacher," she says vaguely. "But, hurry, just in case someone sees us. We don't want to get in trouble."

"True," Lily acquiesces. "God, I can't believe I was friends with that git."

"We all see the best in terrible people at one point," Rosalie says slowly, images of Joon flashing in her mind: ones where he told her stories near the crackling fire when she was four, but also ruined her life when she was fifteen. "It happens, but the best you can do is to make sure to trust your gut, and listen to the people around you as well. Have a balance."

"I don't get why Sirius calls you dumb." Lily smiles. "You're very intelligent."

Rosalie grins. "He's an idiot, really. By association, so is James."

"He's smart," Lily mutters defensively, but at Rosalie's gleeful look, sighs. "I walked into that one."

"That you did," she agrees.

After seconds of drawn out silence, Lily stops biting her lips and speaks.

"I always thought it was a joke, you know," she begins, voice soft and almost unsure, "him cockily reading poems to me, trying to talk to Snape's friend, and then, he just kept going — but now —" She sighs. "I fancy him, but it's too late. He's trying to be friends, and I don't —"

"Are you kidding?" Rosalie asks, startling her. "Lily, all James wants from you is your company. He's never stopped being head over heels for you, but he became your friend to get to know you better. He doesn't expect anything from you but your company and friendship, Lily, but he's glad to have more. He'd love to go out with you."

"You think?" Lily asks.

She pats her friend's shoulder. "I know."

"Well," Lily says, voice soft, "I need to sort that out, then."

A strangled noise escapes Rosalie's mouth. "Now?"

Lily blinks at her, before dragging Rosalie across the train. "When else?"

"Well, you just had the run in with Snape, and wait," Rosalie hisses desperately. "Sirius is going to be there — Acacia?"

Acacia's with Drake, hand-in-hand, cheeks flushed. "Hey, Rosalie! Wait, where are you two going? I thought we were going to sit together —"

Rosalie starts blabbering, mouth moving faster than her brain. "We had a run-in with Snape but I stunned him, and then after that Lily decided she's going to ask James out and I'm freaking out more than she is —"

"Are you okay?" Acacia asks immediately.

"Fine," Rosalie tells her honestly. "He might not be, though."

"Oh," Acacia says, an appropriate response.

"Snape's not going to stop me," Lily announces. "I fancy James, and since he fancies me back, I'm going to make sure he knows it."

"That's new," Drake comments. He studies Rosalie. "You cut your hair."

"I did," she says proudly. And then flounders, after noticing that Lily's expression is still the same. "You don't have to do this, Lily. There's time."

"I'll be quick and give him time to process," Lily decides firmly. "Marlene's waiting for me, anyway."

"I want to watch," Acacia says immediately, and now four seventeen-year-olds are racing across the train.

When Lily finds the right compartment and throws the door open, the four Marauders startle. Rosalie catches Sirius's stupidly perfect eyes on her face, and resolves to not look like a tomato in his presence, instead waving at the four in a very friendly and platonic way.

"Er," James says, eyes widening behind his glasses. "Hi."

"Smooth," Sirius mutters, before mouthing, "Nice hair."

Rosalie finds herself grinning, oblivious to Acacia's narrowed eyes.

"Hello," Lily replies, and then gives him a dazzling smile. When James melts into his seat, and the background is filled with Sirius and Peter's snickers, she continues. "Can I talk to you?"

"Er — no — I mean, yes," James stammers out.

Laughing silently, Rosalie sits herself down next to Remus. He passes her a piece of chocolate, and she gladly eats it.

"This is my entertainment," Acacia stage-whispers.

Drake snickers. James shoots her an exasperated look. Peter seems to find it hilarious, because he laughs harder, grabbing tightly onto Remus's shoulders.

"Great," Lily says, and Peter stops laughing. "Not right now, though."

James blinks, almost as if he's wilting. "Oh."

Lily walks towards him, leans forward. "I'm thinking this weekend, out in the Quidditch Pitch. I'll bring food and a blanket."

"Er — what?" James asks, looking as if he's malfunctioning.

"It's a date," Lily continues, and then smiles again. "See you then."

James's jaw drops as she leaves the compartment.

"Holy shit," Rosalie's lips spread into a wide grin. "It really happened. Holy shit, James!"

"Sirius, pinch me," James whispers. He does so, but James doesn't even look pained. Instead, he's staring at the door in shock. "This is real. This is real. This is real."

"James!" Rosalie says excitedly, jumping up to crush him in a hug, before shaking his shoulders. "This is so exciting!"

"Congratulations, Potter," Drake says in his same disinterested drawl. "Your life goal came true."

"She fancies me," James breathes out.

Rosalie fondly ruffles his hair. "Yes, she does!"

"She fancies me!" he cries out, now crushing Rosalie in a hug so hard she can't breathe. "I did it, Cupid!"

"Great," she chokes out. When James loosens his grip, she starts inhaling. "I almost died, James. Died."

"I'd love to be asked out like that," Sirius says offhandedly.

Now, she's really dead. "What?"

Sirius grins, lowers his gaze to her lips, and says, "She knows what she wants."

"Er," Rosalie says, in the most intelligent way possible.

"Good for her," Drake says blankly. "We should head out."

"We do need time away from you hooligans," Acacia says, grinning at their comical expressions. "C'mon, Rosalie!"

"See you at dinner," Rosalie says. Her smile widens at James's excited expression. "We'll leave you four to party."

Turning to leave, Rosalie spots Sirius's expression once more. His face spurs on a challenge that she feels in her blood. He can't make her feel like this, not when she's supposed to be happy for James, and that only.

When walking away, her hand softly brushes his knee. It's Rosalie who smirks at his wide eyes, and she decides she likes it when he loses.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The moment the door closes, James freaks out. Shock wearing off, he jumps up and down, gives each of his friends bear hugs, and then eventually settles down to occasionally giggling.

He sighs dreamily. "Lily Evans asked me out on a date."

"This is the seventh time you've said that," Remus interjects, amused.

James grins. "And I'll keep saying it."

"You deserve it, mate," Sirius agrees, clapping his friend's back.

And then twenty minutes later, Sirius goes from contemplating his life to pacing around the compartment like a maniac, much to the amusement of his friends.

"And another one bites the dust," Peter mutters.

Remus snorts.

"Shit, shit, shit —" Sirius's loud walking makes Remus toss a chocolate wrapper at him. "She's poisoned me! Spelled me!"

Peter raises a brow, previously enjoying the scenery after James's hugs, and now having to deal with his other friend's bullshit. "The girl you fancy poisoned you into feeling flustered?"

Sirius nods vehemently. "It's a love spell. She's so obsessed —"

"Quit being delusional, Sirius," Remus says drily, and the remaining three Marauders face him in surprise. "You fancy her, so she makes you feel. That's why it's called feelings."

"Even I could notice it," James adds, still dazed from being asked out. "You're both so annoyingly romantic."

"Then you know it's really bad." Peter snickers at James's sour expression. "It's true; you're literally the densest boy on the planet —"

"Ask her out," Remus says tiredly as Peter and James bicker. "Sneak out to Hogsmeade to buy her flowers —"

Sirius gasps. "Are you telling me to break school rules?"

Remus gives him a dirty look. "Do you want my help or not?"

"I didn't think this would happen," Sirius says, completely ignoring Remus's eye roll. "I mean, she's an annoying chipmunk who can barely sing. Her handwriting is an unreadable piece of crap! I bet she's smugly sitting in her compartment, doing an evil laugh."

"Because she poisoned you," Peter adds sarcastically. "Or maybe she's freaking out like you, because you're both dorks."

"You did not just call me a dork —"

"Okay, Drama Queen," James mutters.

"You are one to talk —"

"Enough!" Remus sighs, snapping a piece of chocolate from his bar and crunching on it. "I'm surrounded by idiots. Except for Peter."

Peters touches his chest. "Thanks, Rem."

"Rude," Sirius grumbles. "I bet Rosalie's so happy right now. Like an evil muggle witch."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"I bet he's so smug right now," Rosalie grumbles to herself. She's trying not to throw herself out of the train, just so she doesn't feel this embarrassment for fancying someone too handsome for her. "Laughing like an evil witch, the arrogant jerk!"

And as soon as the trio settled in their compartment, Acacia and Drake interrogated her, their sharp questions causing Rosalie to sink into her guilt: You were alone all summer? Are you safe? What happened? Is that why you didn't reply for a few days? Why did Lily ask out James?

Sure, Rosalie updated them, and they comforted her with long hugs and promises to be there forever, but she didn't say much. She couldn't ever put Sparrow Housings in danger, even for her best friends.

But what she did inform them was the answer to Acacia's question of "What the hell is going on between you and Sirius?"

Did she mention the kiss? Yes, but in a roundabout way with the timeline of the two popping up at her fake apartment and the kiss happening after a game of spin the bottle with neighbouring muggles. Not the best cover, but her friends believe it.

At least, they seem to accept it, but she doesn't want to dwell on that.

"I still can't believe it," Acacia mutters, running a hand through her brown hair. "You kissed Sirius Black. The baboon. The idiot. The one who you've despised since second year."

Rosalie nods, resigned. "Yes. I kissed him, because I fancy him."

"And," Drake adds, his fingers intertwined with Acacia's, "he fancies you back?"

"Unsure," Rosalie admits. "Possibly. Maybe. Somewhat. A little bit?"

"So, yes," Acacia drawls, and then laughs at Rosalie's furious blush. "And I'm guessing he knows you fancy him in return, considering that you're like this."

"Yes, but he would've asked me out if he liked me back," Rosalie mumbles, her head in her hands, even as her brain screams: denial, denial, denial! "Why are we talking about this, anyway?"

"Do you want him to ask you out?" Drake asks.

Rosalie groans, lifting her head. "Stop making me admit things!"

"Do you want him to buy you flowers?" Acacia asks, smirking at Rosalie's flushed expression. "Take you out on dates? Spend nights together, side-by-side?"

"Fuck off," is Rosalie's intelligent answer.

Acacia and Drake exchange amused glances.

"Are you waiting for him to ask you out?" Acacia squeezes Rosalie's shoulder. "Or are you waiting until your feelings die down?"

"Personally," Drake tells Rosalie, "I tried the latter, and it didn't work."

"I know that; I witnessed it," Rosalie grumbles. "Can I throw myself out of the window, now?"

"Nope!" Acacia says cheerfully. "You're going to confess!"

"You're joking," Rosalie says blandly. "I'd rather be caught in another house fire."

Acacia glares at her, and Rosalie recoils when her words finally sink in. "Speaking of that, do you know how worried I was —"

"Right, too soon. Sorry." Rosalie cracks a smile. "But I'm not asking him out. I'd rather not get humiliated. Imagine if I do and he's like: 'I don't go out with ugly chipmunks' or 'Seriously — hah, Siriusly — you think I fancy you back?'"

"He's not going to say that," Acacia says reassuringly. "At least, after I beat him up."

"He might," Drake adds. Acacia glares at him, while Rosalie imagines dramatically flinging herself out the compartment and jumping off the train. "Not. He might not."

"It's all his fault," Rosalie grumbles, hands in her hair. "He did this to me, and now he gets to reject the girl he hates."

"I'm sure that's not true," Acacia soothes. "I doubt he wants to reject you."

"With Acacia's threats, even a celebrity would agree to date you," Drake drawls, before getting his cheek pinched. "She can be terrifying."

"I need Acacia's threats for someone to date me?" Rosalie mumbles, and Drake sighs, probably realising he made it worse. "You know what? Fine. He doesn't have to ask me out — I'll do it myself! And then when he rejects me, I can move on!"

"That's the spirit!" Acacia cheers. "Go get him, girl."

"Not now, though," Drake adds.

"No shit," Rosalie grumbles. "I'd rather die."

"Please don't." Acacia gives her a grin. "I need my lovestruck idiot —"

"No!" Rosalie protests. "Please stop!"

It does not stop. Rosalie's friends are ruthless, and because of their loud bickering, Diana pokes her head in. And that's three people who've teased her in the span of one day.

A dark-haired girl, who Rosalie recognises as Seraphina Selwyn (Amala Selwyn's daughter, who briefly talks to Rosalie about her mother's article), comes in to whisk her away. After some small-talk, the teasing resumes. The brunette gets an eating break when the Trolley Lady arrives, but Acacia still manages to call Rosalie a "lovesick fool" while eating her Chocolate Frogs.

"You're one to talk," Rosalie mumbles, and Acacia flushes.

In the end, Acacia is a help, though. She tells Rosalie her favourite flower shops in Hogsmeade, and the two brainstorm the time and place to ask him out. For now, though, Rosalie's just going to pretend that everything's the same.

Just until she can get those flowers.

Then she sees Sirius, and everything falls apart.

Rosalie has no time to run. Her, Drake, and Acacia need to secure a carriage before they're occupied by the preteens that roam this castle. Her heart decides that now's the time to start speeding up, though, especially with the plan she and Acacia made constantly barraging her mind.

"Hide me!" Rosalie grabs Drake desperately, using him as a human shield as Acacia scouts out a carriage. "This is humiliating, fancying a baboon."

"That doesn't even compare to the embarrassment I'm feeling right now," he drawls, and Rosalie sheepishly lets him go. "No, keep hiding behind me. I don't like him, anyway."

"Why not?" Rosalie mutters defensively.

"He's a moron who made you cry three times," Drake points out. "He has the emotional maturity of a soulless dementor —"

She coughs. "That's not true! He apologised."

He gives her a look. "And he avoided you for months, because he's also emotionally constipated —"

"Well —" Rosalie pauses. "No, you're right. Sirius is terrible at emotions, but he's trying. And he's improved, like, a lot. I can hang out with him without feeling the need to smash his head on the nearest wall."

"I see," Drake says, looking at Rosalie like she's his latest headache. "Well, if you're happy. There could be worse options."

She knows that's the best she'll ever get from him, so he's crushed into a hug. "Thank you, Drake."

He blinks at her. "For what?"

"Your opinion matters to me," she tells him, until he pats her head. "Why — what —"

"Acacia's right," he tells her. "You are like a hamster."

"You're dead to me," Rosalie mutters, reminded of when Sirius called her chipmunk back in his house. "Both of you."

He gives her a half-smile. "Glad to hear it."

"Of course you are," she mutters. "You thrive on being rude."

"Don't insult my boyfriend, Rosie." Acacia joins the duo, linking her arms with her best friend. "Not without me."

Drake sighs. "And I'm the third-wheel again, it seems."

Rosalie grins. "Our favourite third-wheel, you mean."

"I hate you both."

The two cackle all the way to the carriage Acacia claimed. Climbing into the seats, Rosalie can't help but think that this year will be different — and not in a good way. Even if her friends are with her, even if the carriages move like normal, gliding across the plains, a wave of dread makes it to her heart.

And it only increases when they're seated in the hall, where whispers drift in the background. Eyes are gliding to her, a face identical to the one shot in the Daily Prophet, Rosalie's school photo from three years ago.

One table in particular has their eyes on her. Rosalie notices their hostility, the jeers coming from the Slytherin table.

But it's not just them. Everyone is mourning the news of families dying (Rosalie's included, as she's warded off three "I'm so sorry for your loss" statements already), picked off of trees one by one, like decaying apples. But they're also glaring at the girl who just happened to point it out. Rosalie Edson showed everyone on the path of suffering she'd been through for years, even if it means painting a bright red target on her back.

Her ears blur out the Sorting and Dumbledore's short speech. She can barely taste her food over the jumbled whispers of attacks and promises of lessons about defensive spells. The new DADA professor — to her, at least — is irrelevant.

What she's not indifferent to is the sneering from the table across the hall, the promise of "you're next", and the pure hatred she feels when Albert Avery's lips twist into a malevolent threat. It's a promise that she's his next victim, all because she mentioned that he's a blood supremacist in a small newspaper.

Rage bubbles inside of her, and when she meets his stare with a cool one of her own. Even though she used to take their hatred and spite of people like her with fear of her life and family, she has nothing left to lose now.

Rosalie Edson is a tempest of rage and grief, and she will not take this and his stupid friends' shit any longer. She will not be their little victim of discrimination.

Even if she has to fight every last one of them to prove it.

note that not all slytherins are bad but um most of the blood supremacists do come from that house so it's sort of a generalisation for now! example: drake. and one of the main characters in the upcoming acts is in fact a slytherin saur. you know. i promise i have good slytherins in this book.

speaking of slytherins, yes, someone found snape, he's (unfortunately) okay, and he doesn't go after rosalie for a while bc of what happened <3 bro got HUMBLED 💀

on another note, we will be having accelerated updates due to the holiday! enjoy long ass chapters (27-31) every week ig, until break is over! or, well, not exactly break, bc finals week is killing me rn 🥰 hate it here 🥰

sorry this is the last thing i SWEARRR but we have finished the Sparrow Arc! as much as i enjoy all these new OCs, i am very glad to return to my babies acacia and drake! + james and sirius ofc, but they show up anyway LOL! dw, the new OCs do make appearances, i promise, but they are less frequent <33

signed,
anisa