Chapter Text
Midway through hanging up her new clothes in the inn wardrobe, Rose spotted Hedwig on the windowsill. She promptly dropped the skirt she’d been folding and opened the window for the owl, who landed on a perch in the corner of the room.
“Hi, darling girl,” greeted Rose, scratching at the base of Hedwig’s wing where she knew it got itchy. Hedwig cooed, leaning into her touch, and Rose had to blink away tears. She’d missed Hedwig so much.
“Did you have a nice fly?” she asked. Hedwig nibbled at her finger in response. “I bet you did. How do you feel about crossing the ocean? I need to send a letter to Sebastian.”
Hedwig bobbed her head and Rose smiled. Her owl had always liked Sebastian, oftentimes visiting him during morning mail time and begging for a bit of ham. She hadn’t minded Crookshanks that much, either, but she’d hated Scabbers. Completely understandable, considering who he turned out to be.
That reminded Rose she would have to take care of Pettigrew at some point…
That was a matter for later. Rose retrieved some stationary from her trunk, and sitting down at the desk, begun to draft a letter to Sebastian.
Dear Sebastian,
I’ve decided to spend the remainder of the summer in Diagon Alley. Dudley’s Aunt Marge is coming for a visit and I’m afraid I would blow her up if I had to share a house with her. I’m not staying at the Leaky Cauldron for the foreseeable future and would very much like it if you could visit before the holidays end.
Thank you for the present. I’m sure the broom care kit will come in handy. Imagine if some long-lost relative gets me a Firebolt for Christmas!
I’ve gotten a letter from Ron. He sent me a news clipping of the Weasleys in the paper. Scabbers is even in there!
Looking forward to your reply,
Rose
As much as Rose didn’t want to think about it, she wasn’t sure if Sebastian had agreed to come back in time with her. This letter was innocuous enough that if he hadn’t come back in time, that he wouldn’t find anything amiss. However, her coded messages were glaring enough to announce that she’d arrived intact had he agreed.
She could only hope he received them.
Rose took a moment to reread the short letter before rolling it up and tying it to Hedwig’s foot. “Be careful,” she told her. “And take a moment to rest when you get to Sebastian, alright? I want a letter back from him.”
Hedwig preened her plait before flying out the window. Rose watched her until she disappeared around a tall building. She hoped Death had convinced Sebastian to come back with her. What if he hadn’t? What if she had to take care of Voldemort alone? She could probably do it, but what if she couldn’t?
Rose forcefully pushed away the what-ifs and distracted herself with lunch. She spent the rest of the day wandering Diagon Alley, purchasing a brand-new pair of thin-framed glasses. She even threw out all of Dudley’s clothes to make room for any new ones she decided to purchase at a later date.
Two days later, while Rose was enjoying a late morning tea in a new nightgown, Hedwig flew through her open window with a letter tied to her leg. Rose hurriedly set down her tea and untied the letter, not even paying attention when Hedwig stuck her beak in her teacup. She unrolled Sebastian’s letter, her gut tense as she began to read.
Dear Rose,
I had an interesting meeting with a friend of yours a few days ago. I thought I was dreaming at first but then Hedwig came. It’s true, then. We’re going to start our third year in a month.
It’s difficult seeing my parents, but I’m happy to have them. I won’t be making the same mistake as I did last year, even if it means that I must tell them everything we get up to at Hogwarts.
Speaking of mistakes, I’ve decided to send a letter to Professor McGonagall to ask her to remove me from Divination and Muggle Studies classes. I don’t know what I was thinking. Divination is woolly and I can just take the OWLs and NEWTs as a self-study.
Do you still plan to take Divination, too? It’s not like you need to see into the future.
I’ve spoken to my parents about coming back early. They were planning on spending the whole summer in France, but I’ve managed to convince them to come back a week early and to let me stay at the Leaky Cauldron. It was difficult, but I told them about wanting to experience wizarding culture first-hand. They’ll be visiting once a day during their lunch break from their practice, but it’s worth it.
I’ll see you on August 22nd.
Don’t forget your homework,
Sebastian
Sebastian’s letter was also coded. Rose grinned as she read it, even if she rolled her eyes at the mention of school and homework. She’d completely forgotten about that, but now that she was reminded, it was impossible to forget having to do her assignments in the middle of the night with a torch she’d stolen from the shed.
She’d have to redo any of the assignments she’d already completed, of course. Her handwriting wasn’t the same as it’d once been. It was much more refined now that she’d had six years practice writing with a quill instead of two. The only good thing she could think about her predicament was that she had to review her studies anyway. Six years of Hogwarts classes were stored in her memory, and while her grades hadn’t strayed past an Acceptable, even Sebastian hadn’t been ready to take his OWLs or NEWTs in his third year. It would be odd if she started doing advanced magic.
School was going to be rather boring, Rose realized. She already knew everything. Perhaps Sebastian was right about taking another elective. But what other classes were there? There was, of course, Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, which she’d taken last time. Sebastian had taken Muggle Studies, Study of Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy in addition to the two she’d taken. There were other classes she’d heard of, but she couldn’t remember what they were called.
Rose considered asking Sebastian for his thoughts before she realized she was doing it again. She was leaning on him to give her the answers instead of finding them herself. She’d done that ever since the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Sebastian had seen how overwhelmed she’d been about what to study that he’d set up a dedicated schedule of spells to study and books to read, and Rose had let him do it. She’d continued to let him dictate her, thinking that he knew best, until she’d died and gotten him killed. And hadn’t Rose done the same with Ron? She’d followed him into Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, aiming for an easy E, and had allowed him to hinder her.
No, thought Rose. She’d hindered herself by not wanting to anger or upset him. She needed to start thinking about herself and not what others thought, even if it meant this Ron—who had stuck with her when the school thought she was the Heir of Slytherin, who had followed her into the basilisk’s den—didn’t want to be her friend anymore.
It was high time she took her future into her own hands instead of letting everyone do it for her.
Rose refilled her teacup with water for Hedwig before getting dressed in some of her new clothes. Overtop a blouse, she wore a deep brown suspender dress with three buckle straps at the waist. The buckles matched the ones on her new boots, and Rose tied a gold ribbon to the end of her plait to match their colour.
Rose had never seen a suspender dress before, but it reminded her of the denim dungarees she’d run around in as a girl. Madam Fawley had said the dress was a common fashion for girls her age and Rose could see why. She looked…cute. Nothing like the scrawny tomboy she was used to looking at in the mirror. She though that even Sebastian might think her pretty.
Rose flushed at her own thoughts, abruptly recalling Sebastian’s kiss. She slapped her cheeks a few times before heading downstairs. That, she would think about later.
“Good morning, Miss Rose,” Tom greeted her. “Breakfast?”
“Oh!” Rose had forgotten about breakfast in the wake of Sebastian’s letter. “Yes, please,” she said. “Do you have blueberry muffins?”
Rose always found her stomach got upset when she ate too much in the morning, and as Aunt Petunia had imposed Dudley’s calorie-deficit diet on the whole family this summer, her stomach had shrunken even more than it usually did over the summers. It would take her a few months to work up to big meals. The tea she’d had earlier had already filled her up most of the way.
“Coming right up,” said Tom. “Where do you plan on venturing today?”
“Flourish & Blotts,” Rose said, having decided while getting dressed. “I still need to get my schoolbooks, and I’ve also decided to change my electives. I thought I’d browse the Hogwarts section for an idea.”
“Make sure you ask for a course catalogue,” he advised. “You wouldn’t be the first to change your mind and they offer them free of charge for those who ask.”
Rose thanked him and paid a few knuts for her blueberry muffin, which merrily floated itself over to her. She sat beside the archway as she ate her muffin, just watching as Diagon Alley started to fill up. She was still unable to believe how it’d become such a shell in so little time, and she made a promise to herself not to allow it to get to that point again.
The bookshop wasn’t as crowded as she’d expected considering Hogwarts letters had just gone out, and Rose took the time to approach one of the workers before other patrons could.
“Excuse me?” she asked, noticing the wizard seemed preoccupied with the cage full of the Monster Book of Monsters. He jumped and a crazed look entered his eyes when she noticed the Hogwarts letter in her hand.
“In Care of Magical Creatures, I assume? Well, step back,” he snapped impatiently, tugging on some thick hide gloves.
“Sir, I’ve already got one of those!” Rose said, but it was too late. The monstrous books shook to life and swarmed the cage door. They snapped at the wizard’s hands, and two of them got into a tussle and started tearing out each other’s pages.
The wizard shouted and jerked back as a book managed to grab a hold of his glove. Before he got bit, Rose raced forward and stroked the spine. Just as she recalled all those years ago from Hagrid, the book turned docile and churred from her petting.
“How in Merlin’s name have you done that?” the wizard asked, staring at the books. “They always swarm when I come to them. Look, I’ve been bitten five times already this morning alone!”
Rose winced at the red marks on the man’s arms. “They’re enchanted to act like a beast,” she said. “You’ve got to stroke their spines if you want to calm them down.”
“Stroke them? Stroke them! Why couldn’t they have told me this when we ordered the shipment?” the man muttered to himself hysterically. He shook himself roughly and locked the cage before the books could start brawling again. “Sorry for the trouble, miss. Did you need help with something?”
“If it’s not an inconvenience, I would appreciate the third year’s class catalogue.”
“Not at all, not at all,” said the wizard, retrieving a list from the front. Rose thanked him and went to an unoccupied corner to read it.
Aside from the core classes and the electives she was familiar with, there was a subsection on extracurriculars. Some were graded while others were not, the catalogue said. The list also noted that the graded extracurriculars didn’t have NEWT exams but rather TOADs—otherwise called Tests for Outstanding Academic Distinction. Rose understood these to be a standardized test throughout Europe like the NEWTs. Unfortunately, these must be paid for and taken at the Ministry as they weren’t available at Hogwarts.
Unsurprisingly, Quidditch was listed as an extra-credit club instead of something that was graded. The list had a few books for it, such as those on rules and different plays. All were mentioned as supplemental reading. Rose noticed that she’d read a couple of them from the library, so it wasn’t like she needed to purchase these books.
Well, she might get one.
Rose bypassed the clubs in favour of the TOAD classes. There was Healing, which explained why she often saw student aids in the Hospital Wing; Ghoul Studies, which seemed to be an offshoot of Defence Against the Dark Arts that studied ghouls and ghoul-like creatures extensively, of which there were many; and Field Studies, which expanded on Care of Magical Creatures but purely in an academic zoology standpoint. Rose vaguely recalled Luna mentioning she was taking this class.
Although Rose was interested in Healing, she didn’t want to spend any more time in the Hospital Wing that necessary. It would eat up any time she had for spell practice or Quidditch.
Two other classes sparked her interest: Ancient Studies and Enchanting.
Ancient Studies seemed to be a precursor course for a future in Curse-Breaking, while Enchanting, as implied by the name, instructed one in the art enchanting objects.
Unfortunately, Ancient Studies required one to have an E minimum on their Study of Ancient Runes OWL exam, so Rose would be unable to take the class until her sixth year at the earliest. Based on the description of the class, Ancient Studies covered ancient magic practices and wizarding anthropology. Rose had always been interested in wizarding history even if she’d struggled in Binns’s class. Perhaps she ought to take Ancient Runes. She had thought them interesting when she’d helped Sebastian translate those runic books Dumbledore had willed to him.
Enchanting, on the other hand, required no prerequisites other than a minimum of an Exceeds Expectations on your second year Charms and Transfigurations exams. However, it required you to take Ancient Runes as they were used in the latter part of the year.
Rose chewed on her lip as she pondered what to do. With Divination out of the way, she would have two open periods to take. If she filled in with Runes and Enchanting, and then later dropped Care after her OWLs, she could manage to take Ancient Studies later on when studying for her NEWTs.
As embarrassing as it was to admit, Rose had gotten a crush on Bill after she’d met him and had read up on Curse-Breaking to have an excuse to talk to him. She’d been surprised by how interesting she thought it was, but as Rose had become busy with the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and then Umbridge, and then the whole mess of her sixth year, she hadn’t been able to any extra reading.
If Roes had taken Ancient Studies, then perhaps she could’ve helped Sebastian with the protections around the tent. They wouldn’t have been captured by the Snatchers and Sebastian wouldn’t have been tortured for having Muggle parents. And if she’d taken Enchanting, then Rose could’ve understood what Sirius’s mirror was earlier. She could’ve done a lot of things, if only she hadn’t let her insecurities overwhelm her and influence her into the person Ron would want to be friends with.
These guilty thoughts gnawed at Rose and cemented her decision. She purchased the books required for her classes, including The Basics of Enchantment and Ancient Runes Made Easy. Afterwards, Rose returned to her room in the Leaky Cauldron and penned a letter to Professor McGonagall, asking her to take her out of Divination and put her in Study of Ancient Runes and Enchanting. She followed that up by informing she had already purchased the required textbooks for both courses in hopes that it could be done.
While she had her dwindling stationary supply out, Rose also wrote to Sebastion with her decision and enclosed the course list. She thought he’d be interested in it, especially if he hadn’t seen the classes last time.
Hedwig was all too happy to spread her wings again, but Rose ensured she knew to take a break between going to Hogwarts and France.
Rose decided that since she’d already gotten her schoolbooks, she might as well get her other school supplies. Most of them were potions related—a new set of potions ingredients, a size 3 pewter cauldron, and a mortar and pestle—but there was also a basic runic kit for Study of Ancient Runes and, later, Enchanting. After looking through her existing supplies, Rose added new dragonhide gloves, especially with the type of creatures they’ll be handling in Care, and a glass stirrer as hers had broken at some point. She also needed more stationary, new Gryffindor robes as hers were getting short, and uniform-appropriate clothes to wear underneath since year three robes were more of an overcoat.
Collecting her purse—a lilac coloured one with lilies embroidered on it—Rose headed back downstairs. She decided to stop by the stationary store first as it was closer than Madam Malkin’s.
Scribbulus’s Writing Implements was a tiny shop squished between Quality Quidditch Supplies and Flourish & Blotts. The smell of parchment and ink wafted towards her, a mixture of leather and bitter ink that reminded her of Sebastian. His hands were always stained with ink since he was always writing in those journals of his.
Rose wandered around the shop, filling the basket floating behind her with scrolls of parchment, ink bottles, and new quills. A new display by the till caught her attention.
“Are these pens?” Rose muttered to herself, picking one up with a tortoise shell pattern. She saw the tip was metal and nothing like the ballpoint biros she was used to.
“Ah, those are a new product we’ve implemented—fountain pens. You use them with inkwells, but the writing style is like Muggle writing utensils,” said the worker behind the till, whose name was Hadrian.
“Oh, they’re used for calligraphy!” Rose realized. Uncle Vernon had once purchased a set for Aunt Petunia because she’d mentioned wanting to handwrite invitation cards for her tea parties instead of printing them, but she’d made him take them back as soon as she’d seen them. Probably because they reminded her of quills, Rose thought.
Hadrian smiled. “Exactly. They’ve become popular among the genteel.”
They showed Rose a set of lavishly styled pens, their handles made of stone and decorated with metal. One caught Rose’s eye. The body looked to be made of jade with swirling patterns of gold embedded to create a vine-like pattern. The pen was paired with a matching inkwell and a set of nibs.
“Lovely eye you’ve got there,” said Hadrian, catching where her eye had gone. “Would you like to try it out?”
“May I?”
He got a spare bit of parchment for Rose to test the fountain pen on. She angled the pen in her hand and wrote her name as usual. The metal nib spread on her downstroke to give her writing that signature calligraphy look, and she noticed it didn’t make as much of a scratching sound. She finished her first name with a flourished y.
“How long have you been writing with a quill?” Hadrian asked, studying her name. It was readable, a remarkable improvement from her chicken scratch that always got her marks off in Snape’s class.
“Six years,” Rose admitted.
“Were you ever formally taught how to write with one?”
Rose shook her head. “No, I taught myself. I didn’t even know how to cut the quills until one of the prefects taught me.”
Hadrian thought for a moment. “If you’ll please stay here for a moment,” he said, retreating into the back office. After a minute or so, he returned with a pamphlet. How to Write the Wizarding Way it said.
Rose flipped through it and saw that it taught you how to use quills, from preparing the feather to how to angle your wrist. It provided examples of all letters in upper and lowercase cursive with animated little pictures.
“Well, I could have used this my first year,” said Rose frankly. “Why aren’t these offered with quill kits?”
Hadrian scratched the back of his head and sheepishly admitted, “I made it. I’m Muggleborn, see, and had the same problems as you. I made one for my little sister and she said I should make some for others, but Mr Scribbulus won’t allow me to put them on the counter.”
Rose frowned and studied the pamphlet again. It could do with a little polishing, especially the drawings, but it would help a lot of people who were Muggle-raised.
“Do you mind if I take this?” she asked.
“Go ahead, I’ve got plenty in the back.”
Hadrian rung up Rose’s stationery, including a simple fountain pen. As much as she liked the jade one, it was a galleon, or the equivalent of one hundred pounds. It was too much for a writing instrument she could easily use. Perhaps she’d consider it later if she didn’t lose her fountain pen like she did her quills.
After stowing away her stationery in her expanded purse, Rose mentally reviewed what she needed and decided to leave the potions equipment for last. Or another day. Perhaps shopping for school-appropriate clothing to wear beneath her robes would tire her out. Well, she could hope.
If Madam Fawley’s was a high fashion boutique, then Madam Malkin’s was the equivalent of Marks & Spencer. Most of the clothing available were plainer robes or simple trousers and blouses. Rose did notice that Madam Malkin’s was the only place to offer Hogwarts regalia, from blouses and skirts in House colours to robes in various styles. These included the simple dress-like robe first-years wore and an open-front robe, which was worn over regular clothing like an overcoat or topcoat.
Rose examined a set of Gryffindor robes on display. It was an open-front style that reminded her of a princess coat. It was scarlet with gold piping and buckles. Rose decided to splurge and get one of those with her set of plain open-front robes. To her grand misfortune, once she’d located an employee to get fitted, she was propped onto a stool beside the same person she’d met before her first year. Malfoy.
“Which year are you going into, dear?” Madam Malkin idly asked as she began to pin darts in place on Rose’s robe.
“Third,” said Rose, somewhat confused. She thought she’d be recognized since she’d been here for the past two years, and Madam Malin had made a fuss the first time she’d met her.
Malfoy glanced over, a curious expression on his pointy face.
“You’re a third year, aren’t you?” he assumed in that drawling tone that never failed to get on her nerves. “I would’ve recognized you otherwise. We’re in the same year, you know.”
Rose stared at him. Did he really not recognize her? Madam Malkin, she could excuse, but Malfoy had made it a sport to torment her and her friends. How did he not recognize her? But as she asked herself that, Rose realized she was staring at it. Her reflection was one she barely recognized. Her newly grown fringe framed her face in shiny loose curls, her eyes no longer looked tiny behind her thin glasses, and dressed in her new clothes, she didn’t look like the ruffian the Dursleys always made her out to be.
She didn’t look like the Rose Potter Malfoy knew, and in truth, she wasn’t. Rose wasn’t that thirteen year old girl whose worst enemy was her relatives. She had died and lived through a war, one where she’d seen people die, had participated in battle, had been tortured. She was not the naïve little girl who believed Gryffindors were good and Slytherins were evil.
And Malfoy? He was the naïve one. He still clung to his fathers coattails, spouting the prejudice he’d been raised to believe. He didn’t have the Dark Mark, he hadn’t been tasked with killing their headmaster, and he hadn’t lived under the same roof as Voldemort. Nor had he secreted away food to those hiding in his dungeons, or lied about Rose’s identity.
He wouldn’t need to be any of that if Rose had a say in it, even if he was a ferret-faced ponce.
“You don’t recognize me, Malfoy?” Rose said. “I know it’s been a month, but honestly, I haven’t changed that much.”
Malfoy reared back as if struck. “Potter?” he said incredulously.
“Took you long enough,” she huffed.
Malfoy scowled. “Well, I see you’ve finally seen sense,” he sneered, gathering his wits about him. “Gotten tired of dressing in Weasley’s hand-me-downs, have you?”
Rose was already regretting speaking to him.
“Honestly, Potter,” Malfoy continued. “You’ve been an embarrassment to us all these past few years. Hanging out with the riffraff, dressing like a Squib. It’s like you don’t know you’re from an ancient family.”
Rose scowled to hide her confusion. What did she mean by embarrassing them all? Who was “all”? And just what did he mean about her family being ancient? Weren’t most families old?
“Did the Weasleys put you up to it? They all dress like that, but I’m not surprised. They’ve been going to the dogs since they refused that contract, but I didn’t expect them to rope you into it. How disgraceful. They must’ve gotten their claws into you before you set foot on the train. There’s no other explanation as to why you’d turn away my hand.”
Rose was getting more and more confused and angry. Thankfully, before she could lash out or reveal her ignorance, the worker adjusting Malfoy’s verdant and silver open-front robe finished.
“Well, Potter,” he said. “I do hope you’ve finally seen some sense.”
What the bloody hell did that mean?
Rose wanted to shout at him, but Malfoy had already gone. She kept mulling over his words but didn’t expect Madam Malkin to pipe up.
“That boy’s got a point, deary,” she said. “I remember those clothes you came the past few years. That’s no way for a young lady of your status to dress. It seems you’ve finally gotten your head back on your shoulders. I can’t imagine a family like the Weasleys roping you into their mess—they were always so genuine despite their lack of money…”
“They didn’t make me dress like that. It was just Muggle fashion,” Rose lied. She dearly wanted to ask Madam Malkin what she and Malfoy were talking about but didn’t want to show her ignorance.
What did it all mean?