But I'm a Weasley!

But I'm a Weasley!

Chapter 6: No Place Like Home for the Holidays

.

Rose approached her family cautiously, lagging behind Albus. Her parents looked around the platform; Rose stopped moving, suddenly too scared to continue.

Hermione saw her first. Rose's mother's face lit up and she ran towards Rose, scooping her daughter up in her arms and whirling her around in a hug. Rose might have been embarrassed, but it felt too nice.

"Rosie!" Mum cried, as she squeezed her tight, before she set her back on the ground again. "It's so good to see you!"

"I'm happy to see you too, Mum," said Rose. She hugged her Mum tightly as well, and let go reluctantly when she remembered they were at the train station surrounded by her classmates.

She bit her lip and looked at her father, who had come up beside them.

"Hi, Dad," she said quietly.

"Rosie." Ron leaned over to give her a tight hug. "Rosie, Rosie. I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too," she whispered.

He pulled back and looked at her face for a long time. Usually it was easy to tell what her Dad was thinking. But even though his quiet gaze gave her plenty of time to study his face, Rose found herself, for once, at a complete loss. Eventually she flushed and started squirming.

"We should go back over to Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny," she said. "Sorry I made you come over here."

Mum put an arm around her shoulders. As they walked back to the Potters and Hugo, Rose looked around the station. Peony was standing with a woman Rose assumed was her mother, and a younger boy and girl. From the expression on the woman's face, it seemed Peony was getting a considerably colder reception than Rose was. Peony looked up, and the girls' eyes locked; Rose gave her friend a sympathetic wince, and a wave goodbye. To her surprise, Peony waved back to her.

Mum and Dad looked over to see who Rose was waving to, and they didn't seem too happy with what they found.

"Is that Pansy Parkinson's daughter?" Mum asked, attempting but failing to keep her tone light.

"Her name's Peony Greengrass," Rose said. "I don't know what her mum was called at school."

"That's Pansy's daughter, all right," Dad said grimly. "She married Ares Greengrass a few years out of Hogwarts."

Ares? Rose thought, stifling a giggle. That name must have been a trial, when he was a kid.

"I talked about Peony in my letters," Rose said. "I told you we were good friends."

Dad jerked at that, and his face began to turn red.

"So you did," agreed her Mum, giving Dad a warning look. For some reason, Dad looked like he couldn't decide whether to be angrier at Rose or her Mum, but he just ground his jaw.

"I know her parents are awful. I told you they sent her a Howler just because they found out she was friends with me and tried to help Al, remember?"

Dad's face was even redder as he opened his mouth to speak, but Mum beat him to it.

"Why don't we discuss everything later, when we're at home?" she suggested, in a voice that let them know it wasn't really a suggestion.

"Oh, we'll discuss it, all right" Dad said darkly, glaring at both of them.

Rose swallowed, and ducked her head as they made their way over to the Potters.

As they reached the rest of their family, Rose held out her arms and cried, "Hi, Hugo!" She pulled him in for a hug, but he stiffened and returned the embrace very hesitantly. Rose was surprised; since he was young, Hugo had never really liked being touched, but his older sister had always been one of the few people he was comfortable with. As she let go of her brother, Rose looked at him searchingly. Did three and a half months apart really jar him so much?

"Rosie!" Lily exclaimed. Unlike Hugo, her younger cousin had no compunction about flinging herself into Rose's arms. Rose nearly fell over from the impact, but she didn't mind. She felt a little better as she returned Lily's embrace with a tight squeeze.

When they let go, Lily started talking a mile a minute, trying to fill Rose in about everything that happened while she was away, and asking a million questions about Hogwarts, without stopping to hear the answers. Which was fortunate, since Rose's thoughts were distracted and she was barely half-listening to her young cousin.

Eventually Lily paused for breath, and Rose took the chance to say, quickly, "Hi Aunt Ginny, Uncle Harry."

They also enveloped her in a hug, but there was a tension in the air that Rose had never felt before. When she pulled away, she could see both of them eyeing her green-and-silver Slytherin scarf with wary expressions.

Wanting to escape the look in their eyes, she turned her attention back to Lily and her questions. The merry chatter of a nine-year-old girl, unreservedly happy to see her, was an excellent remedy for awkwardness and tension... or, at least, masked it well.

-

On the bright side, Rose thought, the awkward tension didn't last long once her family arrived home.

Unfortunately, that was because her father exploded the moment the door was shut and the privacy wards were in place.

"The Greengrass girl?" He shouted, whirling to glare at Rose. His face was already turning red, which was never a good sign.

"Hugo, go upstairs," Mum ordered, quietly but firmly. Hugo clearly had no objection to leaving. His eyes were wide as saucers as he backed away and then fled up the stairwell, taking them two at a time.

Rose swallowed, wishing she could follow her little brother.

"Ron--" Mum said, in the tone she always used when trying to calm him down.

"Don't you 'Ron' me!" her father spat angrily. "You knew about this, and didn't tell me?"

"I knew you'd send her a Howler or something horrid," Mum said, wringing her hands.

So you let him find out when he could yell at me in person? Rose thought, annoyed. She should have at least warned me!

Mum had obviously had the same thought, because when she glanced over at Rose, she looked guilty and apologetic.

"Well, maybe it would have knocked some sense into her!" Dad growled. He rounded on Rose again. "What were you thinking, befriending someone like that?"

"Befriending someone like what?" Rose demanded. "An interesting, smart, nice girl who has been nothing but kind to me? Oh, I don't know, maybe I was thinking that I like her!"

"You have no idea--" Dad began.

"No idea of what?!" Rose cried, cutting him off. "No idea what she's like? I've been living with her for the past three and a half months, I think I know her pretty well! No idea about her parents? I've already told you, I know they're terrible people and they did horrible things, but Peony never did anything! It's not her fault who her parents are!"

"THEY'D HAVE KILLED YOUR MOTHER IF THEY HAD THE CHANCE!" He roared, face redder than Rose had ever seen it. "And you stand around giggling with their daughter?"

"Ron, that's not-- Rosie, wait, don't--"

Rose's lower lip was quivering. The things her father was saying to her... it was like... it was like he thought she was as bad as they were. Like he thought she'd kill Mum herself given the opportunity.

Like he hated her.

"I should have stayed at Hogwarts," Rose spat angrily. "I wish I never had to see you ever again!"

She spun and ran upstairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Ignoring the rules about under aged magic, she performed a locking spell on the door, and then threw herself face-down on her bed, trying to stop herself from crying.

She could hear her parents fighting downstairs. Usually when they had a serious fight they cast a muffling charm so that their children couldn't hear; but apparently both of them were too agitated to think of it just then. Rose hugged her pillow as tight as she could. She could hear her Mum defending her, but that almost made her feel worse, knowing that she was the reason they were fighting so violently.

She half-expected to hear Hugo knocking on the door; the few other times Mum and Dad were fighting so badly they forgot to cast the muffling charm, he'd always crept into her room for comfort. But the door remained silent. Rose didn't even know if she wanted her little brother there. She didn't think she could make him feel any better, considering how she felt... but it might have been nice not to be alone.

--

It was sometime later when Rose awoke to a gentle knocking on her door. Apparently she'd fallen asleep at some point during the fight. After a while, when she just about couldn't take any more, she remembered that she knew how to cast a silencing charm now. Exhausted from her journey and from the heightened emotions, she must have drifted off.

Since she could hear the knocking, clearly the silencing charm had worn off once she'd fallen asleep; probably that meant the locking charm had, too.

"Sweetie?" Mum's voice came from the other side of the door. "Are you okay?"

Rose hugged her pillow again. "I guess so," she called.

"Your father's gone."

Rose sat up abruptly. She flung herself off the bed and rushed to the door.

"What?" she gasped, as she opened the door to look at her mother. "He left?"

"Oh, no, honey, don't worry," Mum said soothingly as she took Rose into her arms. "He's not gone for good. He'll be back in a while, after he cools down. He's probably at your Uncle Harry's."

"Oh," Rose said quietly.

"Why don't you come on downstairs?" Mum suggested. "We can have cocoa."

"Thanks," Rose sniffled, "but not right now, okay? Maybe in a little bit."

"That's fine, Rosie." Mum stroked her hair gently. "Take all the time you need. Do you want to talk?"

"I guess so," she said. "Maybe. Oh, I don't know."

"It's hard for him, but he does love you, Rosie, very much."

"He didn't sound like it," Rose mumbled. "He sounded like he thought... like he thought I wouldn't care if someone killed you. Because of who my friend's parents are."

"Oh, sweetie, he doesn't think that," Mum told her, hugging her tightly. "He just needs time. It's harder for your Dad, I think."

"Why?" Rose asked.

"Well, because it was me they hated so much. All Muggleborns, really. Sometimes it can be harder to forgive someone for what they did to someone you loved than it can be to forgive someone for what they did to you. Do you understand?"

Rose thought about Professor Bole, and Professor Bradley, and she nodded.

"Yes," she said. "I understand."

Mum rocked her back and forth, and Rose made no move to pull away.

--

Maybe it was cowardly, but Rose had no desire to see her father after their fight. He'd come home later that night and knocked on her door, but she just yelled at him to go away. Thankfully, he didn't push the issue.

Though Mum's Christmas vacation had already begun, her father's holiday didn't start until the day before Christmas Eve, so he wasn't home during the day. Rose didn't emerge from her room until the next day, when she knew he'd be at work.

Nobody was downstairs, but that was fine with her. In the kitchen sat a pot of hot chocolate, kept warm by a heating charm, and Rose poured herself a mug and curled up on the couch.

She took out her schoolbooks, but for once she didn't feel like looking at them. Instead she stared at the family Christmas tree, covered in ornaments, so comforting and familiar. At the top that silly star still sat, the one she'd made with popsicle sticks and golden glitter, back when she was five years old and still attended Muggle school.

The tree was a little lopsided, the branches were thicker on the left side than on the right, there was a hole near the top that all the tinsel in the world couldn't hide, and it was brown in a few spots.

As a little kid, Rose had always envied the Potters' Christmas tree. Their tree had always been huge, green, perfectly balanced, in fact perfect in every way. But Hermione always insisted on a normal Muggle tree, without any magical changes or enhancement. She said that imperfection was part of the charm.

Rose had to admit, something about this left-leaning, flaw-filled tree made her feel more cosy, more comfy and at-home than a perfect one would have.

"What are you thinking about?"

Rose looked up; she hadn't seen her mother approaching. Now Mum sat next to her on the sofa.

"Christmas trees," Rose answered. "How you always liked the flaws. And I guess, about how different everything was last year at Christmas."

Mum nodded. "Everything changes," she said. "That's what growing up is all about."

"I'd just been so sure, last year, where I would be this year," Rose said.

Her Mum nodded again. "I know how you feel," she said.

Rose looked at her mother skeptically, and Mum laughed gently, putting her arm around her daughter's shoulders.

"I understand better than you may think, sweetie. Remember, I'd no idea witches and wizards even existed until the summer I got my letter from Hogwarts. In fact, my parents hadn't planned to send me to boarding school at all. Moving away when I was eleven was a complete surprise. So my first Christmas home from Hogwarts was pretty different, too."

"Your family wouldn't have known the difference, what House you'd been in. They didn't know enough to think one way or another about Sorting." Rose sighed, and took a sip of her cocoa.

"That's true," Mum agreed. "But there were so many things I could never share with them. There was a huge part of my life they could just... never know. Which meant there was a huge part of me they could never know."

Rose was surprised into silence. She hadn't expected to hear own feelings come out of her mother's mouth-- because that was how she felt, almost exactly. Like there was something inside of her that her family could never understand, and as time went by, that part would only grow larger and larger.

But she couldn't tell her mother that. She couldn't bear to see the pain on her mother's face if she did.

"My friends are good," Rose said instead. "No matter what their parents did."

Mum didn't say anything for a while, and eventually Rose looked up at her, worried by the prolonged silence.

"Rosie..." Her mother hesitated. "I probably shouldn't say this, but all I can think is that not telling you, not explaining, would only make things worse for you. You're growing up, and you're so smart... I hope you can understand what I'm trying to say."

Then Mum paused, and she was quiet for a long time. Just when Rose was about to burst and exclaim Just tell me!, her mother finally continued.

"I wish I could... the last thing I want to do is make things harder for you. I want you to know that I trust you, and I trust your judgment. I don't think you'd become good friends with a bad person." Mum smiled sadly. "I know that, but when it comes to the daughter... or the children... of people who wanted to kill me, and who were so cruel to me at school... I trust you and believe in you, but that doesn't make the feelings disappear. I wish I could erase them, but I can't."

Rose nodded slowly. She thought she understood what her mother was saying: her Mum wasn't perfect. Rose was old enough to know that grown-ups had faults, but she was young to wish she could still believe her mother could fix anything.

"Were there any Slytherins that you liked?" Rose asked quietly.

"There were Slytherins I didn't hate," Mum said slowly, apologetically. "There were a couple of Slytherins who I respected. Al's named for one of them."

"Severus Snape," Rose murmured. "But he was your professor."

Mum nodded.

"And," Mum continued with a smile, tightening her arm around Rose in a half-hug, "right now there's one Slytherin I love to pieces."

Rose did her best to smile back.

She wanted to tell her mother about her own problems, her own confusions. But after what Mum had said, how could she be objective about things like Professor Bole? How could she forgive Rose for sometimes liking the professor who was so mean to Albus, who had probably been one^[a] of those girls who were so mean to Mum ^[b]during^[c] her school days, no matter how guilty Rose felt about it?

No, things like that were best left unsaid.

-

A lot of things were different this year, but there was still some comforting familiarity to be had. The family still kept the same schedule they'd had every year, as long as Rose could remember.

The morning of Christmas Eve was reserved for Nana and Grandpa Granger. That was usually fun; they always got weird, but cool, Muggle gifts. Mum seemed to like when Rose and Hugo got some exposure to the Muggle world, and Rose wondered why they only visited twice a year.

She was ready early that morning, and came downstairs to see Dad with his hand on Mum's shoulder. They were talking in low, serious voices, but Rose couldn't hear what they were saying. The moment they saw her, of course, they stopped talking and acted like nothing was going on.

"Rosie, how's Hugo this morning? Will he be ready soon?" Mum asked.

Rose shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "I'm not even sure if he's awake." Her little brother had been avoiding her ever since the Christmas holidays had started. She wished she knew why, but even at the best of times you could never really be sure what was going on inside Hugo's head.

"I'd better go check on him," Mum said. She headed up the stairs, leaving Rose and her father alone together for the first time since she'd gotten back.

Since that disastrous first night, Rose had avoided her father as best she could. A few times, he'd knocked on her bedroom door. When she didn't answer, he spoke through the door, telling her that he was sorry and that he loved her. Besides that, they hadn't had any contact.

Rose kept her eyes on the floor as she made her way towards the kitchen. Nana and Grandpa Granger always had a big breakfast ready, but if Hugo wasn't up yet it might be a while before they left, and Rose was hungry now...

Oh, who was she kidding? She just didn't want to be in the same room as Dad.

"Rosie, wait," he said quietly.

Rose paused, undecided about what to do. She compromised by standing in place, but refusing to look in his direction. She kept her eyes trained on the floor near the kitchen door.

"Rosie, I'm very sorry about yelling at you the way I did," Dad told her.

What was she supposed to say to that? 'It's okay'? It wasn't. She settled for just nodding in response.

"I was wrong to speak to you like that," her father continued. "It's just hard for me sometimes."

"And you think it's not hard for me?" Rose answered, still not looking at him.

"I know it is," Dad said. "I'm sorry for making things worse. It's just, the friends you've chosen--"

"Most of my House mates have Slytherin parents," Rose told the kitchen door. "Okay, a couple have parents who attended Durmstrang. So what do you want me to do? Go through Hogwarts friendless?"

"Of course I don't want you to be friendless, Rosie."

"Then what is it you think I should do?"

He didn't seem to have a ready answer to that. After several moments of silence, Rose resumed her trek to the kitchen.

"Rosie... please be careful," said her father. "I know it's your house and you're proud of it, but I worry. There are a lot of bullies in Slytherin."

Rose raised her eyebrows. She turned on her heel and, for the first time since the first night she got back, she looked her father right in the eye.

"In my year, I'm the leader of the Slytherin girls," she told him coolly, but with a hint of pride. "I decide if my girls do any bullying."

Her Dad was rendered speechless. He just stared at her, his mouth moving soundlessly. He looked, Rose thought a bit meanly, like a fish.

"Oh, and the leader of the boys?" she added. "That's Scorpius Malfoy. So I don't think I need to worry too much about bullies--he's a friend of mine, you know."

It wasn't really a lie. Sure, Scorpius wasn't one of her best friends, but he was extremely close to both Liatris and Tony, so they spent a fair bit of time together and got on fine when they did. More to the point, it was completely true that Scorpius wouldn't set bullies on Rose.

But of course, none of that changed the fact that she'd said it almost exclusively because she knew it would upset her father. And, judging from the look on his face, she'd succeeded with flying colours.

Before he could gather his thoughts enough to respond, she spun around again, and went into the kitchen. A few minutes later, Mum came downstairs with Hugo in tow, so her father never got a chance to continue the conversation before they left.

--

"Rosie! Hugo!"

Rose and her brother were greeted by their grandparents with hugs and effusive welcomes.

"How are you, sweetie?" Nana Granger asked as she released Rose from a hug. She kept hold of Rose's shoulders and held her at arms length, looking her granddaughter up and down. "You've grown so much!"

"I'm okay," Rose said, with a tentative smile.

"Just okay?" Nana asked, but Rose couldn't say more just then, since she and her grandmother were blocking the door, and had to move.

"Hermione. Ron." Nana and Grandpa Granger nodded at Mum and Dad as they entered the house.

Rose had never noticed it before, but... that was kind of weird, wasn't it? Nana and Grandpa were so happy and enthusiastic when they welcomed Rose and Hugo, but when it came to Mum and Dad, they sounded stiff and formal... almost cold.

But Rose didn't have a chance to think about it too much before everyone was ushered into the dining room and presented with a huge Christmas Eve brunch. Then there were presents, and Muggle movies, and Rose completely forgot that she'd noticed anything unusual.

After spending the day with the Granger grandparents, their family and the Potters had dinner together, with plentiful dessert and candy. Up until now, the kids drank cocoa while the adults enjoyed hot mulled wine. But last year, when James had finally entered Hogwarts, he was allowed half a mug of wine, and this year, Rose and Albus were also given that privilege.

"Thank you," Rose said quietly, clutching the mug as her Aunt Ginny ladled her some wine. She stuck close by Al as he wandered into the sitting room. She dawdled on the way, stopping him to chat about random things. But the house was only so big and it wasn't that far from the kitchen to the living room.

"Wait," she whispered, as Al began to head over to the couches.

He stopped and turned to look at his cousin. "What is it?" he asked.

Usually the parents and the children all mingled together on Christmas Eve, but this year Rose didn't want to be over there. Things with her Mum were pretty good, but everything was still awkward with Dad, and Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry... she just didn't know.

She wondered if they were talking about what she'd told Dad that morning. Rose hadn't planned whether or not to tell her family that she was considered a 'leader' in Slytherin house, and now she wished she hadn't. She was pretty sure that, had she really been in control of her emotions, it was not something she'd have mentioned.

And she definitely hadn't intended to bring up Scorpius Malfoy.

"I-- I'd rather not sit with our parents, this year," she said quietly.

"What's going on?" A bright voice piped up from beside Rose, who jumped in surprised, almost spilling her mulled wine.

It was Lily, of course. The younger girl had practically glued herself to Rose's side the moment she'd arrived at the Potters' house, but for once it didn't seem annoying. The younger girl was delighted by the attention of this favourite older cousin she idolized, and she was excellent at keeping parental tension at bay. She seemed the only one not at all affected by Rose's status as Slytherin.

"Rose doesn't want to sit with our parents," Albus said, quietly.

"Oh," Lily whispered. "Because of the House thing?"

"Something like that," Rose murmured.

A new voice spoke up. "Well, let's have our own party then!"

Rose whirled to see James standing behind her.

"Our own party?" she asked.

"Sure. Why not?" He shrugged. "We can go to my room."

"I'll go get Hugo," Lily said, bouncing off to where the parents were settling down. Hugo was already with them, having apparently missed the rest of the cousins as they gathered in the corner.

Christmas music was playing loudly, so Rose couldn't hear what they were saying from across the room. Lily grabbed Hugo's hand, but he glanced over at the cousins and pulled away, to Lily's visible surprise. To Rose's shock, Hugo climbed into Dad's lap, even though he really was too old for that kind of thing.

Rose guessed that Lily was telling him exactly that, judging from the exasperated look on her cousin's face and the defensive one on her brother's. Lily tried one last time to wheedle Hugo, but he just shook his head fiercely, wrapping his arms around Ron's neck.

Lily rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air, giving up. She said something to the grown-ups, grabbed her mug of cocoa from the table, and headed back over to where Rose, Albus and James were standing.

"He won't come!" she exclaimed, sounding annoyed.

"Why not?" Al asked.

"Oh, who knows." Lily put one hand on her hip as she shook her head in irritation. "He's just being ridiculous. Anyway, I told everyone we're going to James's room for a while, and they said okay."

Rose could hardly believe her luck. When she'd told Albus to wait, she'd expected to end up dragged over to the couches in the name of family togetherness. Instead, she and her cousins were going upstairs, just the four of them, where the grown-ups couldn't even see them!

She could hardly get up the stairs fast enough.

It would probably be unfair to call James's room a pigsty-- she was sure a lot of boys his age were a lot messier. But Rose had inherited her organizational skills from her mother, so her own idea of 'disorganized' was when she left her books open on the desk because she wasn't finished studying. But this time, she didn't mention anything as they entered, which apparently surprised James.

"What, no exclamations of disgust?" he asked, as they settled on his bed. "No scolding me over the state of my bedroom?"

Rose laughed. "That would hardly be fair, would it, given you rescued me from our parents?" she pointed out. "Besides, Liatris isn't the neatest person in the world, and she's in the bed next to mine at Hogwarts. So I'm getting used to seeing clutter around."

"Liatris... is that the blonde one?"

Rose and Albus both nodded.

James quirked his lips. "I'll have to remember to thank her."

"One of your House mates?" Lily asked eagerly.

"Of course." Rose laughed. "Did you think she could be in the bed next to mine if she were a Hufflepuff?"

Lily blushed, and Rose leaned over to bump shoulders with her gently. Her cousin looked over at her and smiled.

"So what's Hogwarts like?!" she demanded.

"What, haven't James and Albus filled you in?"

"Well, yeah, about life in Gryffindor," Lily said, waving a hand dismissively. "Mum and Dad already told me plenty about that. What's Hogwarts like for you?"

Rose hesitated, and took a sip of her wine to buy herself a moment to think.

She'd always been very close to her Potter cousins. They spent so much time together, they were more like siblings than cousins, really. Even when Rose and James didn't get along, she viewed him more as an annoying older brother than anything.

But after that confrontation with her father that morning, she'd been becoming increasingly nervous about sharing too much of her Slytherin self with her family.

She lowered the mug from her lips and said, grinning, "Sorry, but unlike Gryffindors, we know a little thing called 'discretion.' I'm not about to give away House secrets!"

Luckily, this successfully redirected the conversation towards good-natured teasing about House rivalries, and who would win the Quidditch cup, which led to just talking about Quidditch.

Rose would have to be careful from now on, she realized. She was coming into herself as a Slytherin, but she couldn't show that side of herself to her family. When she was with the Weasleys (the Potters were considered part of the group, even if it wasn't technically their surname), she had to be sure to be Weasley Rose, rather than Slytherin Rose.

She paid enough attention to her cousins to joke and laugh with them, but only half her mind was on them. The other half was deep in thought.

Rose couldn't believe she'd been so stupid that morning. She'd known she shouldn't talk about her Slytherin life with her family! If she'd decided those sorts of things were best left unsaid with her mother, well, that was double--triple--a million times more true for Dad!

From now on, she promised herself. Her Slytherin life would stay at Hogwarts, with her Slytherin friends. Her Weasley life would stay at home, or when she was with her cousins far, far away from the Slytherin dungeons. There was no other way to do it.

No matter how angry she got at her father, she couldn't do things like that, things like mentioning Scorpius or other details of her life as a Slytherin that she knew would upset him. She couldn't let her anger get the best of her. She was better than that.

It was ironic-- in order to fit in with the Weasleys, she would have to use everything that was most Slytherin about her, namely, her cunning, her manipulation, and her ability to mask her emotions. And what would most stand in her way in that endeavor was nothing other than the most Weasley thing about Rose: her temper.

Much as she dreaded any ramifications from what she'd said to her father this morning, she was glad that she'd come to this conclusion now, before the big, entire-Weasley-family celebration at the Burrow that would take place tomorrow. Imagine if she went around acting like her Slytherin self around the entire Weasley clan! It would be disastrous.

Her resolve set, she refocused her attention on her cousins, laughing as James prepared to sneak downstairs and get another mug of wine.

"Want any?" he asked.

Albus shook his head, but Rose cocked her head to the side and considered.

"Sure," she said. "That sounds good."

James grinned. "Awesome choice, Rosie."

Five minutes later he was back, with two full mugs of wine, and apparently without getting caught. He grinned and held up his mug, and they clinked their cups together.

The wine was delicious, and its warmth seemed to spread through Rose, and she relaxed even further. They all were really having a marvelous time. Lily was ecstatic when Rose let her have a few sips from her mug.

Eventually, it got quite late, and Rose heard Dad's voice calling from downstairs.

"Kids?" he yelled."You'll have to break up the party for now. It's after eleven, and time to get to bed. Come on, Rosie."

Rose was sad to leave, as the evening with her Potter cousins had been fun, and the most comfortable she'd felt since Christmas holidays had begun. She hugged them goodbye, feeling very glad that they'd all be there tomorrow at the Burrow.

The next morning they had a big Christmas breakfast-- Rose suspected that it was secretly provided by Aunt Ginny, delivered before they were awake and kept under a heating charm-- and opened all the presents under the tree.

Usually this was one of the best parts, but this year Rose's dread of the rest of the day, always spent at the Burrow, put a damper on most of Christmas morning. It hung over the whole morning, regardless of how delighted she was with the stack of thick books with spells and theory well above first year level (from Mum) or the new SilverBullet 3.0 broom, which technically wasn't released for sale for another week (from Dad). ^[d]

When she'd opened that gift, her mouth dropped open and her eyes became as wide as saucers.

"In Merlin's name!" Rose breathed. "Dad! Thank you so much! This is... wow!"

She took a time out from ignoring her father to squeal and hug him, because the broom was a pretty amazing gift.

If she were being uncharitable, she might think to herself that he'd bought it before he'd heard about her friendship with Peony; but it wasn't like he could have bought it before he found out she was a Slytherin. It proved he'd intended to be supportive, and that wasn't nothing. Plus, after their fight yesterday, he could have just not put it under the tree last night.

After that, they spent the morning in an unspoken but obvious truce.

But all too soon, it was time to get ready to go to the Burrow. Rose dressed as slowly as she could, dawdling as she removed her pyjamas and changed into holiday clothes. She took more care than was strictly necessary as she packed the gifts for her cousins (as well as a few of her new books) into a bag.

"Rosie! Come on, we'll be late!" Mum yelled from downstairs, and reluctantly Rose picked up her bag and trudged down the stairs, stopping by the sofa to grab her new broom as well.

"Rosie, do you really have to wear that?" Dad asked, with a sigh.

Rose looked down at the green-and-silver scarf wrapped around her neck. She considered playing dumb and asking what was wrong with her robes, but dismissed the idea.

"Yes," she said shortly. "It's cold out, and we'll be playing Quidditch." She may be hiding her Slytherin personality, but no way was she going to pretend she was ashamed of her House.

Dad looked like he wanted to argue, but although he didn't look happy about it, he restrained himself. Mum put one hand on Dad's shoulder and her other on Rose's.

"We're already late," she said. "Come on."

The moment Rose stepped out of the fireplace in the Burrow, she felt as tense as though she'd entered a battleground. She glanced around and assessed the room quickly. After depositing her gifts under the Christmas tree, Rose headed over to the fold-out chairs near the stairwell, on the far side of the room from the kitchen.

Aunt Fleur was not usually Rose's favourite of all the aunts, but she'd attended Beauxbatons, so chances were she couldn't care less which House Rose was in. Uncle Bill was one of the most easy-going of the Weasleys, and of course, Victoire and especially Dominique had already been supportive. Yes--that branch of the family was probably her best bet.

"Rosie!" Uncle Bill exclaimed, standing up to give her a big hug. He eyed her scarf with more amusement than anything. "How's my favourite Slytherin?"

Rose grinned at this welcome. "Much better after hearing you say that," she admitted. "Happy Christmas, you lot!"

"'Ello, darling," Aunt Fleur answered. Louis, their youngest son, murmured something in his dreamy, distracted way. Rose decided to interpret it as a greeting.

Victoire was distracted as well as she smiled, "Happy Christmas." But unlike her brother, her attention was focused on something specific, namely, the object still clutched in Rose's hands. Dominique wasn't just distracted by it; she seemed at first unable to speak, simply staring, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"Dominique?" Rose asked, a little amused. "Anybody home?"

"Is that--are you holding--that's the new SilverBullet model, isn't it?!" Dominique exclaimed.

"The three-point-oh, yep," Rose agreed. "I just got it this morning."

"Jealous!" Dominique exclaimed.

"I'm surprised Ron bought that for you, considering it might be used in a year or two to help Slytherin beat Gryffindor," Uncle Bill said, voice full of suppressed laughter.

Rose snickered. "You know, I don't think that's occurred to him yet."

"Well, we'll all know when it does." Uncle George spoke up from behind Rose, who jumped in surprise. "They'll be able to hear his scream in China."

"Uncle George!" Rose exclaimed, throwing his arms around her favourite uncle.

He hugged her back. "Mind you, I might shed a few tears if my niece is ever the reason Gryffindor loses to Slytherin," he warned her.

Just then she was startled by a shriek across the room, and she whirled around. Her alarm faded as she realized that it had been a happy shriek--Lucy and Roxie were rough-housing again. Roxie appeared to have stolen one of Lucy's new toys, and both girls were laughing as Lucy tried to wrestle her doll back. Roxie managed to wriggle away, and she took off across the room, with her cousin in hot pursuit.

"Roxanne, don't steal your cousin's toys," Uncle George called half-heartedly to his daughter.

Rose raised her eyebrows. "Lucy doesn't seem to mind."

She watched fondly as Roxie fled through the back door, Lucy following close behind, both of them giggling madly. Considering Molly's disposition, it was surprising her seven-year-old sister could be so good-humoured about the toy theft.

"Lucy doesn't," George answered. "She never does. But Percy always gets snippy if I don't at least pretend to reprimand Roxie. He has trouble understanding that his daughter has a sense of humor, not having one himself."

"Well, that^[e] one^[f] of his daughters has a sense of humor." Dominique rolled her eyes, and Rose grinned at her.

"Well, one daughter who might grow up to be an okay person is better than none, anyway," Rose pointed out.

"You're really unhappy with Molly," Uncle George noted.

"She told me I should be ashamed of being a Slytherin and basically that all of my new friends are Death Eaters. So she's not exactly my favourite person, no," Rose answered. "Though to be fair, if she hadn't been such a prat, I doubt everyone else would have accepted it so... eagerly."

"She certainly is her father's daughter, isn't she?" Uncle George snickered.

Rose tilted her head to the side questioningly.

Uncle Bill sighed. "Your Uncle Percy, as a child, also had a way of alienating others with his uptight ways," he explained, somewhat reluctantly.

"'As a child'?" Uncle George repeated, with an eye roll. "As opposed to now, when he still tells me I'm squandering my life with my 'stupid joke shop'? Never mind that I make twice his annual salary in a month."

"And bring a whole lot more joy to life," added Rose, who honestly couldn't imagine the world without Weasley Wizarding Wheezes products.

--

The next few hours were some of the most awkward of Rose's life. Nobody said anything, nothing overt anyway, but not all of her family members were as nonchalant as those in that corner. Several times, she was sure she heard the word "Malfoy" cropping up in some of the adults' whispered conversations, but twirl as she might she never actually located a source. Even if her House made them uncomfortable, Rose couldn't believe that so many adults didn't even seem to attempt to hide it from her.

For the first time in her life, she looked around at the people who filled the Burrow, and she felt like an outsider.

Even as they opened presents and ate her Grandmum Weasley's excellent Christmas dinner, all Rose could think was how much she wanted it to be time for the family Quidditch match. She just knew all her worries would be swept from her mind just as soon as she was flying through the air on her broom.

Besides, being out in the yard playing Quidditch with a team sounded a lot more appealing than being inside the house feeling like an intrude^[g]r.

Finally, Uncle Charlie announced it was time for the game.. Rose grabbed her broomstick (which hadn't left her side since she'd gotten it), pulled on her winter robes, tied on her scarf, and ran for the door. Albus was close behind her.

"You're so lucky," he griped. "I can't believe you actually have your own broom now! I still have to use old discarded ones."
.
"Oh, yes, that old, discarded broom your Mum used when she played for the Holyhead Harpies," Rose pointed out, with a laugh. "It's a professional model!"

Albus, refusing to be placated, just rolled his eyes. "It was," he corrected. "Like, twenty years ago."

Aunt Ginny apparently overheard the last part, and she punched Al lightly in the shoulder.

"Twenty years?" Aunt Ginny asked. "Just how old do you think I am, anyway?"

Al just folded his arms. "You know what I mean," he said, apparently of the opinion that as he hadn't gotten a broom for Christmas, he didn't owe his mum any apologies.

Rose just grinned.. "Be nice and I'll give you a turn riding it," she told him.

Though Al still grumbled something about it not being fair, he couldn't stop his eyes from lighting up at the prospect of getting to ride a SilverBullet 3.0.

"Alright then, let's choose teams!" Uncle Charlie exclaimed, clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

Lily insisted that she wanted to play that year, which brought the number of players to thirteen and made the teams uneven. There was some squabbling until Victoire went back into the Burrow and convinced Uncle Bill to play as well.

"Which makes two teams of seven!" Victoire announced, with satisfaction. "We actually have enough for two full teams, for the first time ever!"

It took some time and some flooing to a couple of houses to grab extra brooms, but they rustled up enough. This Christmas, it was Aunt Ginny and Uncle Charlie's turns to be ^[h]team^[i][j] captains.

Back several years ago, there had been some worry about choosing teams, since it might hurt the younger children to be chosen last. It had been a problem until Mum suggested that if one of the cousins was young enough to throw a temper tantrum at being picked last, then he or she was too young to play in the family Quidditch game.

Now the younger kids looked as cheerful as they possibly could, no matter when they were chosen. Rose couldn't really see what the big deal was, anyway. Sure, the adults might choose each other based on ability, but once it was time to choose the cousins, it was pretty strictly oldest to youngest.

Rose ended up on Uncle Charlie's team, with Uncle Harry, Aunt Angelina, Uncle Bill, Dominique, and Fred. Some of the family had to rotate positions to get time in their favourite, but luckily, Beater wasn't that popular and Rose could whack Bludgers at people to her heart's content.

Aunt Ginny managed to capture the Snitch within the first ten minutes of the first game. While Rose was disappointed that her team lost, it did mean this would be a best-of tournament, and she always enjoyed it when they played multiple games.

"Okay, same rules as usual," Uncle Charlie announced. "The scores from each game don't carry over, just a tally of who won and who lost. If the third game isn't finished by seven o'clock, it's best of three. If we're at the fourth or fifth game by seven, it's best of five... and so on. Any questions?"

There weren't. The next game took a bit longer, but it was only half an hour before Uncle Harry snagged the Snitch and the victory for their team. The score was one to one, and it wasn't even five o'clock yet.

Rose was playing against her Dad, but then all of them were playing against immediate family members. She suspected Uncle Charlie took perverse pleasure in splitting the families up when he could, but just now she really didn't mind slamming balls at her father as hard as she could. It felt therapeutic, actually. After his blow up that horrible first day back, her father had done his best to be nice, but things were far from mended.

Still, Rose was shocked at her intense satisfaction as one of her Bludgers hit right on target, and Dad was thrown off his broom. He managed to keep grip with his hands, and hauled himself back onto the broom with a grimace at Rose, but it had been so great, hitting that big ball at him with so much force and seeing it collide and slam into him with an audible 'thunk'...

Rose was possibly harbouring more resentment for her father than she'd admitted to herself.

The third game Rose's team won as well, with Uncle Charlie capturing the Snitch easily. The fourth game, however, went on forever. That was partly due to Rose's efforts. James was playing Seeker for the other team, and twice when it seemed he was about to nab the Snitch, Rose managed to knock him over with a Bludger so he missed his mark. She just grinned when her cousin scowled at her. After last night, Rose was feeling fonder of James than she'd ever been before, but everyone knew you couldn't let something like that affect how you played Quidditch.

Unfortunately, though Rose's team generally had the better Seekers, Aunt Ginny's team had the best Chasers, and Uncle Bill, on Rose's team, was only middling as a Keeper. As the game dragged on, the other team racked up more and more points. When Uncle Harry finally caught the Snitch, their team was aghast to realize that, even with the 150 points that came with the little golden ball, they'd lost the game by just ten points, 210 to 200.

Seven o'clock was approaching, so they knew the fifth game would be their last. Whichever team won the next game would be the Christmas winners.

Fred tried to convince the team that they should put in their strongest Seekers, either Uncle Harry or Uncle Charlie, but the grown-ups insisted that it was a friendly game and that everyone should get a chance to play their preferred position. Since Dominique had made the Gryffindor team that year as a Seeker, she should have the honor of playing her position in the deciding game.

Rose might have agreed with Fred if she hadn't liked Dominique so much; but given her extreme affection for her boy-crazy, outspoken cousin, she had no objection to letting her play Seeker for this last game.

It turned out not to matter anyway. After a fierce match lasting nearly an hour, Dominique spotted the Snitch and immediately threw herself into spectacularly steep and fast dive. The Snitch was darting around, just out of her reach, as she pulled her broom back to a more horizontal position, and Albus wasn't far behind her in his quest to catch the Snitch.

Hooking her legs around the broom tightly, Dominique, chasing after the little ball all the while, swung herself in a circle, upside-down and back up again. On her second pass, she cupped her right hand around the Snitch and, once she was upright again, clapped her left hand over top of it.

They'd won!

"That move was amazing!" Rose cried, as Dominique did several celebratory loops through the air. Her cousin grinned at her, and they flew by each other to high-five.

"Thanks!" Dominique exclaimed.

"You have to teach me how to do that."

"Sorry, no can do!" Dominique said. "I love you, Rosie, but no way am I training up a future Slytherin opponent."

Rose stopped cold, and stared as her beautiful cousin soared by, her laughter chiming like bells, long hair flowing behind. She didn't even realize she'd said anything wrong-- telling Rose she was sure to make the team was a compliment, after all.

Dominique's hair was a pure, Veela-style platinum blonde--unless you saw it glinting in the sunlight. The sun had already set, but it seemed the radiantly bright lights her family had conjured up to illuminate the field were enough reveal the shining red highlights that rippled through her hair.

The fiery red and golden streaks looked, to Rose, like insults meant just for her. I'm a real Weasley, they seemed to say. And really, red with hints of gold? Even Weasley hair was in Gryffindor colours!

As rest of her team celebrated the victory, Rose just sat there, hovering in the air, unable to move.

Even when playing Quidditch... even Dominique...

My hair's the real Weasley red, Rose thought, irrelevantly.

Quidditch was supposed to be her refuge, and Dominique had been so nice, so understanding... but even she saw Rose as an outsider. None of the Weasleys would ever have dreamed of refusing to teach one of their cousins a new Quidditch skill. Until now.

Rose felt tears welling up behind her eyes, and she cursed them. How could she be so childish! So immature! Crying because her cousin wouldn't show her a Quidditch move...

But try as she might, Rose knew that she wouldn't be able to hold back her tears. She didn't want anyone to see her cry. They might be her family, but she didn't belong anymore, and she never would again. Well, fine-- let them keep her out. She'd just keep them out, too, that was all.

And she'd be damned if they saw how much it upset her.

So while her team mates were celebrating, and the other team were getting off their brooms looking disappointed, Rose angled her broom and zoomed towards the ground. Quick as she could, she ducked around the house and leaned forward. The SilverBullet really was incredibly fast-- in a matter of moments she was in the woods, dodging her way between trees as she flew in the dark, hoping nobody had noticed her fly off. Or, if they had, not soon enough to come after her.

She flew until it was too hard to see through her tears, and she was afraid she might hit something. Abruptly, she halted and dropped her broom. This was no graceful dismount; the bright, new broom fell against the ground as Rose collapsed beside it, lying in whatever way her body happened to crumble. Something was poking into her side and she felt frozen dirt against her cheek, but she couldn't be bothered to move. She just cried and cried.

If only her friends saw her now-- the great leader of the Slytherin girls! What a joke that was. If any of them saw her like this, lying on the ground sobbing her eyes out, they'd see her for what she was: a pathetic loser who couldn't even keep control of herself, let alone others. They'd know she was nothing but a fake, who had somehow, by sheer luck, managed to...

No.

Rose sat up.

Peony and Liatris and Tony... they were her friends. Good, true friends. If they saw her right now, they would offer comfort, not disdain.

She wiped at her tears. They were still falling, but more slowly now, drops rather than streams running down her face.

And she wasn't a fake! Rose was good at being a Slytherin. She was great at it! She'd gotten what every Slytherin is supposed to want-- power-- and she'd done it without even trying. Luck didn't last four months.

She hadn't accidentally gotten power and the Slytherins' respect just because she'd stumbled into it. It may have been accidental, but that was because it was effortless. Scorpius, smart and charismatic as he was, had needed to plot and scheme in order to take over. But she, Rose Weasley, had just... done it. Simple and easy as breathing, and requiring about as much forethought.

Well, her father was right about one thing: House mattered.

The Sorting Hat's decision had changed everything.

She couldn't trust her family. She loved them, and they loved her, but they'd always keep her at arms length. They'd look over at her from the corner of their eye, and think, She's not really a Weasley.

But they can't reject me if I beat them to it!

She felt triumphant and empty as she thought of it.

They'd be polite to each other, of course, but she had to close herself off. She had to stop caring about being a part of the Weasley clan. Her heart belonged in Slytherin now. She didn't need these people to love her; she had her friends. She had a new home now, and it would be every bit as good as the old one. Better even.

Rose stood up, wiping the last of the tears from her face. She picked up her broom and carefully brushed it off, and cast some glamours to hide any evidence she'd been crying.

And, she resolved, as she remounted her broom, she'd beat them at Quidditch. Maybe Beaters weren't seen as the reason for a victory, but she'd find a way. Knock Dominique off her broom right before she'd have caught the snitch, maybe.

Rose lifted off the ground, and rose above the trees this time; partly because she didn't want to dodge trunks and shrubs again, and partly because she wasn't quite sure which direction the Burrow was. Once she was above the leafless winter trees and dark pines, it was simple to see where to go. It was dark out, but as those lights outside the Burrow still shining, that just made it even easier to find.

Once Rose was on the team, Slytherin would beat Gryffindor out for the Cup every year. And Rose would go up there with her team and accept it, and celebrate. She didn't need any help from Dominique.

She didn't need help from any of her family.

It was with that resolve that she made her way back to the Burrow.

"Rosie!" called Albus as soon as he saw her fly up. "Where did you go? You promised I could take a spin on your broom!"

Despite herself, Rose couldn't help smiling a little at his eagerness. She landed beside him and relinquished the SilverBullet. As she watched the delight in his eyes as he mounted it and pushed off the ground, she felt an unexpected-- and unwanted-- wave of fondness wash over her.

Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn't just stop caring about Albus. He was her best friend. She'd promised him that wouldn't change if he were Sorted into Slytherin, and she knew he didn't want it to change when it had happened to her, instead.

Well, maybe she could make an exception for Al.

"Rosie!"

Rose turned to see Dominique jogging up to her. She made sure to keep her expression completely neutral.

"Where'd you go off to?" Dom wanted to know.

"Just wanted to try the SilverBullet in the woods," Rose answered, allowing her face to betray nothing.. "It definitely gives you practice dodging."

"Especially after dark like this!" Dominique agreed. "You know, Rosie, you were pretty amazing out there. You're going to make one hell of a Beater once you're on the Slytherin team. Give the rest of us a real run for our money."

"We don't even know if I'll make the team," Rose pointed out.

"Are you kidding?" Dominique asked, putting her hands on her hips. "Of course you will! Maybe not next year, because neither of the Slytherin Beaters are Seventh Years. But definitely in your third year, once Davies is gone. You're amazing."

Rose blushed, not sure what to say. What would Rose the Weasley Family Member do?

She settled on a simple, "Thanks, Dom."

"Al! Rosie! Dominique!" A voice called from inside the Burrow. Rose and Dominique turned; Uncle Harry was standing in the doorway.

"What are you kids still doing outside?" he asked. "Supper's ready. Aren't you hungry after all that Quidditch?"

"But Dad!" Albus whined from far above their heads. "I'm still testing out the SilverBullet!"

"I'm sure Rosie will let you use it plenty more times," Uncle Harry answered. He rolled his eyes and smiled warmly at Rose, his green eyes laughing.

Rose, a little taken aback at such familiar behavior after all she'd been thinking in the woods, couldn't help but smile back at her uncle.

"I promise, Al," she yelled up towards the sky. "Next time you visit, or vice versa."

"Oh, fine," he grumbled. He landed and relinquished the broom to Rose, reluctantly.

"Does that offer stand for me?" Dominique asked. "I'd love to take the three-point-oh for a spin."

Rose was, thankfully, spared from answering as Uncle Harry spoke again.

"Come on, you three. Everyone's waiting on you for supper."

As they made their way back into the Burrow, Dominique slipped her arm around Rose's waist.

"It was nice being together on a team," she whispered warmly into Rose's ear. "I wish we could be team mates at school. That's the only real downside about the House thing."

Rose slipped her arm around Dominique's waist as well. Okay, maybe she wouldn't have to knock her cousin off her broom every time Slytherin played Gryffindor.

As she sat down, Rose looked around the room at all her family members again, talking and laughing and passing each other various dishes. Maybe she'd had the right idea yesterday. Really, if she thought about it, staying on good terms with them was the Slytherin to do. There was no point burning bridges, and the Weasleys were a pretty important family these days.

For them, she could be little Rosie, typical Weasley cousin. And in return, they'd never have to know Rose, rising star of Slytherin.

She dug into her supper. Uncle Harry was right; after all that Quidditch (and crying), she was simply starving.