A/N: I, alas, do not have ownership of Harry Potter.

The hallowed halls of Hogwarts were swarmed with students, rushing from class to class. A pair of Gryffindor first years ran by, chattering excitedly whilst running to their next class. A few Ravenclaw second year girls sniffed at the first years and flipped their hair over their shoulders, for they were obviously far superior than the newbies. A group of third year boys from Hufflepuff were exchanging answers that they gave on the first day pop quiz McGonagall liked to give out with worried frowns in the corner of the hall. A couple of fourth year Slytherins were giggling at that cute beater that just made captain. A fifth year Gryffindor truant flicked his wand at a first year, bursting the poor kid's ink bottle all over their books. A sixth year couple were sitting on the window ledge by the courtyard, smiling sweetly at each other. The pair of seventh years walking down the hall clamored to tell each other about their summers and job interviews coming up. One of those girls was Rose Weasley.

Rose Weasley . . . well Rose Weasley was something else. As a child of the legendary wizarding duo, Ron and Hermione Weasley, the girl was basically destined for greatness. She had her mother's wildly curly hair, but in the infamous shade of Weasley Red (no joke, that's actually what Beatrix Hair Tricks for Wizards and Witches calls their red hair dye). Her eyes were hazel, a mix of her mother's brown and her father's blue. Her body had curves any girl would kill for, and her petite frame (obviously not inherited from her father) was lithe and strong. Oh, and probably the most important of her physical assets, she had a delicate, upturned nose and sharply arched eyebrows, both features that perfected her sarcastic bitch stare.

Besides being quite the pretty little thing, Rose had the sharpest tongue in her year. Her Weasley Woman Tongue (which every red headed Weasley female had inherited since 1653) was fully operational and ready to give out a sarcastic quip or sharp response on demand. Of course, though, Rose was an altogether nice person and never felt the need to overuse her Weasley Tongue - except with . . . well, we'll get to that.

Now Rose was obviously beautiful and had a personality to match, but that's not what she was known for at Hogwarts. Sure, any guy would have loved to take her out on a date (Even Sir Cadogan's painting once tried to flirt with her), but the only guy who ever came close to being her boyfriend was Hayden Diggory, and, despite his protests that all them went well, Rose broke up with the boy after two measly dates to Hogsmeade, citing "personality differences". No one really knows what happened between the two, but it was obvious Rose wasn't one to be tied down to an "unnecessary obligation", as she phrased it to her friends. But anyways, no, Rose was most certainly not the romantic type. Miss Weasley was married to her studies. She took after her mother in her voracious reading habits, tearing through books within hours ("Thank God she has a brain to back up that mouht," Ron often said, "or she would end up burping slugs."). Her Head Girl badge was displayed proudly and prominently on her immaculate robes. For the past decade, a Head Student was chosen from each house to promote inter-house unity, or whatever the hell it was supposed to do. Rose had heard that Alice Longbottom was the Head from Ravenclaw, and Lorcan Scamander was the Hufflepuff Head, but she had yet to find out who the Slytherin Head would be. She hoped it would be her cousin - Albus had been working so hard for the position.

Rose had received an Outstanding in all of her O.W.L.s last year, with the exception of Divination, and she's totally not bitter about that, even if she only got a bloody Acceptable even though that subject is obviously a pile of dragon shit and Trelawney is known to have misplaced her bloody marbles. Nope, definitely not bitter whatsoever. In any case, Rose was planning on taking her N.E.W.T.s and she would get a bloody Outstanding on each one if it was the last thing she ever did.

Rose was a very intense person, if one couldn't tell.

Along with that intensity, Rose was extremely career driven. As in, extremely career driven. Rose had known since she was eight years old that she wanted to be a healer. Well, not really a healer. Ever since the Second Wizarding War, a new Auror training program had developed. Now, newly graduated wizards who were in the training program were put into squads of seven, and each auror recruit would be assigned a job. Rose wanted the healer position - that job was to specialize in healing, though in the end, her job would be that of a Battle Auror's. Careers are actually exactly what Rose and her friend Marcie Scamander of Hufflepuff were talking about at the beginning of this scene.

"Ro-ose!" Marcie whined out the "o" in her friend's name, "You know I love you, but I swear on Merlin's grave, if you don't stop talking about your bloody job interview with the Ministry of Magic that will take place no time soon, my wand might just accidentally cast a hair loss curse your way." Rose gasped and instinctually grabbed at her mane of thick, red hair, but shut up promptly. One simply does not test Marcie - it is a bad idea. The blonde Hufflepuff smirked and continued.

"Now, I asked you about your summer. And Rosie, I don't want to hear about studying or reading. I want to hear about the fun things! Did you go back to the Burrow? Did you meet any cool Muggles over the summer? Did you meet - " Marcie gasped conspiringly, "a boy." Rose rolled her eyes at her best friend's comment.

"No, I didn't. I was, in fact, at the Burrow for most of the summer, but I was helping my cousins de-gnome the garden for a good three quarters of my time there. The rest of the time was spent trying to get the gnomes' dirt clod missiles out of my hair. Unfortunately, I had no time for shagging any Muggles, thank you very much."

"I still can't believe that your family has fun de-gnoming your bloody gardens. I mean, when I visited you in July, you guys didn't seem so crazy about de-gnoming!" Marcie wrinkled her nose. Rose laughed at her best friend's foul expression.

"You were only there for a week. I had to beg Gramma Molly to let the whole de-gnoming thing go for the week!" Rose laughed, "I suppose it's a Weasley thing." The red head jostled her friend's shoulder, laughing, and the two continued to talk about their summers. Out of nowhere, two hands placed themselves over Rose's eyes. Usually, if someone she didn't know touched her, shit would flip. But Rose recognized the distinct but not unpleasant scent of her brother.

"Guess who, little sister?" the newly changed voice rang out.

"Hugo!" Rose laughed, brushing away her brother's hands, "Don't you have Quidditch tryouts right now?" Her brother rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Blimey woman it's the first day of school, how do y'know my bloody schedule already?" he mumbled, already knowing that Rose took it upon herself to memorize the whole family's schedule within the first few days they received them during the summer, "And yes, I should be at Quidditch, but my Quidditch robes don't fit anymore, so McGonagall is sending me to Professor Flitwick to see if he can charm my clothes to tide me over until I can get to Hogsmeade. I swear to all things holy that woman does not know how to bloody function if everything isn't goddamn perfect." Not only did Hugo inherit the Weasley Red and his father's foul mouth, he also inherited his father's tall genes. Hugo shot up over the summer, and now towered over his older sister. He had taken to patting her on the head whenever he walked by and had developed the annoying habit of referring to Rose as his "little sister".

"Watch that goddamn mouth, Hugo." Rose sighed. Hugo just rolled his eyes.

"Like you don't swear, Rosie."

"Of course I don't," Rose said dismissively. Marcie, who had been silent for the exchange so far, piped up.

"So what is this I hear about the Quidditch leagues opening up to other European schools?" She asked, raising an eyebrow inquiringly.

"Oh, yeah," Hugo replied, voice speeding up excitedly, "This year we're gonna open the league up to be interschool - now Durmstrang and Beauxbatons teams will be in the league, and McGonagall is still trying to convince the Russian school, Koldovstoretz, to join. We'll still have the School Tournament, but now Quidditch season will go on for a few more months, and the House teams are a lot harder to get on to, I heard."

"Worried you won't make it, Hugie?" Marcie asked, using Hugo's childhood name - Marcie was practically family to the Weasley-Granger household by this point.

"Merlin's beard, Marce, it's Hugo now," Higo whined, looking around quickly to make sure none of his friends had heard the rather childish nickname, "And yes, of course I will. I'm the best Keeper Gryffindor has!" He wasn't lying. Honest, Hugo was incredible at Quidditch, and had more athletic talent in his pinky than Rose had in her entire body.

"I'll just have to work hard and remind Dominique how much ass I kicked last year on the team," Hugo shrugged.

"Well then you should hurry along then, little brother who is still younger than me despite the height difference. Oh, and modesty is a virtue Hugo," Rose teased, and Hugo rolled his eyes, and took off down the hall,

"Catch you later, Rosie! Bye Marcie!" He turned around to wave to her and continued running down the hallway, knocking over a few first years in the process. Marcie laughed and waved to Hugo. The two girls began to turn back around, and they collided face first into black robes. Rose blushed and backed away.

"Oh, I'm so sor - y'know I take that back, you great prick." She bristled when she saw who it was.

"My, my, Weasley, where are your manners?" A cold voice drawled. The voice had long since changed, and was smooth as pudding. It was infuriating. That voice matched a perfect looking face, cool, pale skin and perfectly styled white blonde hair, which contrasted sharply with the dark green eyes that barely showed emotion. His high cheek bones a cupid bow lips made almost every girl fall for him-every girl except Rose Weasley. The two had had a mutual hatred for each other since as long as anyone could remember.

"Seeing as you are an uncultured swine, I didn't see it fit to treat you with respect," Rose shot back quickly, her face turning red with fury. Remember how Rose had Weasley Woman Tongue, but really only reserved it for one person? Yeah, well that person is Scorpius Malfoy.

"I don't see why you shouldn't. Why, the Malfoys have been showing ourselves to be superior wizards for centuries longer than the Weasleys," Scorpius continued, starting to walk past Rose and down the hall. Rose grabbed his arm and whipped the pale Malfoy back around.

"Oh don't fucking go there. Us Weasleys have more wizarding talent in a fingernail than you Malfoys have in your entire family," Rose flushed with anger.

Malfoy seemed unfazed by her temper, "Oh dear, it looks like all that muggle blood in you is going right to your face. I almost forgot you were a Weasley for a moment there. You all flush so easily." Before hell could rain down on Malfoy, Marcie dragged Rose away.

"Oh, get with the times, Malfoy," Marcie huffed exasperatedly, trying to hold her friend back, "It's the twenty first century." Before Malfoy counter with some comment that was equally racist as it was sarcastic, Marcie dragged her friend down the hall. Rose pushed off Marcie's arms and straightened her robes,

"Alright, Marcie, alright, I'm cool. Now give me my wand back." Marcie had filched Rose's wand off of the struggling girl, in fear that the Weasley would curse Malfoy into oblivion. Marcie tucked Rose's wand into her messenger bag defiantly.

"Nope. Not until we have cleared this hallway, I can't trust you not to hex Malfoy. Remember fifth year? I'm not going to pick you up from your detentions for eight weeks again." Marcie stated.

"It was one fractured skull! I haven't gotten detention for fighting since! And in case you don't remember, he caused me to dislocate my knee in that very same fight!" Rose exclaimed, but Marcie didn't give her wand back, and obviously wasn't planning to until they had got to their classroom at the end of the hall. Rose's cheeks still stained a furious red as she huffed, spun on her heel, and marched off down the hall, leaving Marcie to play catch up. They were just about to reach Arithmancy when the little ferret who called himself a Malfoy called out down the hall.

"Oi, Weasley! Look forward to working with you this year!" He yelled, smirking. Rose turned around exasperated.

"Oh what now you great arse?"

"You're Head Girl, aren't you? Never mind that, I see the badge on your robes. I just wanted to say I'll have a great time pissing you off as a fellow Head Boy this year!"

It was a good thing Marcie took Rose's wand, for if she hadn't, Malfoy probably would not be with us today.

After Arithmancy and a few other classes, it was the end of the day in terms of classes. Rose decided that she should go back up to the girls' dormitories just to pack up her things before Longbottom moved her dormitories. Rose had spent the night in her old dormitory (the seven flights of stairs never got easier to climb). She had stayed up far too late the night before, laughing and catching up with her friends. The herbology professor as well as the Head of Gryffindor House had sent her an owl at breakfast this morning telling her that she would be moved into the Head Girl Dormitories at 6:00 sharp. Looking down at her Muggle watch, she saw that it was 5:15. Alright, I'll be ready if I just move quickly, Rose thought. She bade her goodbyes to Marcie and her other friends, telling them that she'd meet them at the Great Hall for the Second Day Feast in a couple only having been caught on one moving staircase, Rose was at the Fat Lady's portrait within a few minutes. She rifled through her bag and until she found a paper with the new password on it. One of the sixth year prefects from Gryffindor (was his name Jeffrey? or maybe Clyde? Oh I can't remember, thought Rose) had slipped her this paper at lunch telling her he changed the passwords because the first years couldn't remember the Latin phrases the passwords usually were.

"Password, please," the Fat Lady said pensively as she saw Rose approach. Rose quickly read the paper.

"It isn't over until the Fat Lady sings . . . wait what?" Rose exclaimed, almost laughing out loud.

"I know, I know, I am thoroughly displeased with the password too," The Fat Lady misunderstood Rose's gasp, "Please talk to Prefect Matthew about this."

"I most certainly will," Rose said, holding in a laugh as she stepped through the portrait hole doorway. Matthew, she thought, Prefect Matthew. That's his name. She took in a deep breath and looked around. The fire crackled merrily in the center of the room, and the plush red couches were mostly empty. The red and gold decorations all around the room shimmered in the firelight, and the paintings were all rushing around between each other, sharing gossip and whatnot. Home, Rose thought. She began the climb up the seven flights of spiral stairs to the top floor where the seventh years slept. I will have gained at least a dozen kilos by the time the First Weeks Feasts are over with. She groaned, holding her stitch in her side. And I won't have these stairs to get me back into shape. When she reached the top, she was glad that no one was in the room. As much as she loved her room mates, she just wouldn't be able to hold herself together if they were with her when she said goodbye to the dorm. Rose packed away her robes that had been strewn about the room, and gathered her parchment and books that had already made their way out of her trunk. She sighed as she looked around the room, smiling sadly at all of the half-hung decorations that her year of Gryffindor girls had begin to put up, along with the older, faded posters that the six of them had put up in the years before. She had made some of the best friends of her life with some of the girls who slept here. Rose stared nostalgically around the room before she decided it was no use just standing around the room. She tapped her trunk with her wand three times, muttering a spell to make it shrink and weigh as much as a teaspoon of honey would. She picked up the tiny trunk, glad that she had perfected that charm years ago. Rose stuffed it in her pocket, took one more look around the room, and began her trek down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she took a look at her watch. 5:55. Shit, she thought. She ran out the Common Room, through the portrait hole (much to the chagrin of the Fat Lady - "Miss Rose, a lady never runs!"), and down the mazes of hallways. She reached the golden suit of armor between the Gryffindor and administrative wing with not a moment to spare. Neville, oh, sorry, it was school now, Professor Longbottom was just rounding the corner as she skidded to a stop in front of the suit of armor.

"Ah, Rose, it is good to see you!" he exclaimed, oblivious to the Weasley's panting, "How are you're parents?"

"Great!" she huffed, "They wanted me to, oh god, I'm sorry this is embarrassing, send you their, uh, love." Rose blushed. The herbology professor just chuckled and said,

"Oh okay. I won't say anything to that because I know I would be embarrassed out of my mind if my Gram made me say that. Well, your Head Girl Dormitories are right here. Berutherford," Longbottom nodded at the suit of armor. The golden suit of armor silently saluted and stood to attention. Neville turned to Rose,

"Now, the password is Codswallop, but you can change it once every twenty four hours if you wish - but you have to be inside to change it. Do you want to try to open the door?" Rose nodded and stood forward.

"Codswallop." she said the suit of armor . . . Berutherford. Whatever it was, it turned around and pushed the wall inward, revealing a small hallway leading inwards. Neville nodded to Rose.

"Well, I'll leave you to explore your new quarters. If you have any questions, I'll be in my office doing paperwork."

"Paperwork already? It's only the second day of school!" Rose smiled and Longbottom chuckled in response,

"You have no idea. I have to have all the class plans finished for the month by tonight - I'll see you in class tomorrow!" He said before he pivoted on his foot with a handshake and walked into the dark hallways. Rose stepped through the doorway, excited to see her new quarters. As she stepped into the room, the doorway pushed itself back into the wall, sealing her in. A note was attached to the door in messy scrawl saying

If you want to leave the room, just knock twice and I'll open the door.

~ Berutherford

Rose shook her head at that strange suit of armor. I have to learn what magic makes him sentient, Rose began to think, but her thoughts were quickly cut off when she saw her rooms. They were perfect. There was a fireplace on the opposite wall, with a comfy armchair and a loveseat facing it and a small wood table between them. Two large, stately windows stood on either side of the fireplace. Outside of one of them, there was a wisteria vine that looked perfect for climbing down, and only a couple stories down was a secret pathway leading a tree that looked like the best spot by the lake. Rose definitely wanted to explore that later.

Next to the "Great Room", as Rose decided to call it, there was a what seemed like a kitchen - a sink, a small fridge, a few cabinets, and a table with a note on it.

Just put a piece of paper with a food order on this table, tap it with your wand once, and that food will appear on the table within five minutes.

Best, Winky the Freed House Elf

Rose smiled - she remembered stories about Winky from her mother. As far as she had heard, Winky had gotten over her utter desolation of being free, and had in fact moved on quite well, and had semi-retired a few years before. However, the work ethic of a house-elf never faded, so Winky still worked part time in the Kitchens. Next the kitchen was a spiral staircase, leading up to what was assumed to be the bedroom. Next to that staircase and to the right of where Rose was standing, there were two doors. She opened the one closest to her and saw a small half-bath. She opened the second and saw the most beautiful private library ever laid eyes upon. The bookshelves were a dark mahogany and thick, red drapes hung over the two large windows facing the lake. There was an ornate desk matching the bookshelves standing in the center of the room, on a red and gold circular carpet. There was a small, cast iron stove by the side of the room, and a red armchair that matched the desk chair. Floating candle floated all around the room, illuminating the two story private library. A golden ladder and walkways along the the second story bookshelves glinted in the dying sunlight coming from those two windows. A bust of some old professor was babbling on one of the bookshelves in the corner of the room.

"Muttonchops, yes, and how about some distarlate, oh, and don't forget the unicorn horns and some intestines of a male skewered ended newt . . ." The bearded stone head muttered to itself. Rose approached the bust cautiously.

"Um, e-excuse me?" She stammered. The head looked up with its vacant eyes.

"Ah! You must be Miss Rose Weasley. Please to meet you my dear, I am Sophecles Prewett - I am, I believe, your ancestor! I am very sorry that I cannot shake your hand, dearie, but as you can see, I don't have hands!" The bust laughed and continued yammering on.

"Oh yes, you are probably wondering what I am doing here. Well, if you tap my nose with your wand - only your wand, it can't be someone else's, mind you - a secret passageway will open into the library!" Rose stared at it, astonished.

"What? But the library is on the other side of the castle!" Sophecles smiled good naturedly and winked.

"Ah yes, well, my dear, that is what magic is for, isn't it?" And the bust continued talking, even after Rose excused herself. After she got over the shock of the beauty of that library, she left the room and climbed up the staircase to the bedroom. It looked exactly like the bedrooms in Gryffindor Tower, except smaller with only one canopied bed in the center. There was a rug in the center of the room with an armchair and a side table. There was a desk in the corner, a wardrobe pushed up against the wall, and large windows all on the wall behind the bed. A simple room, yet tasteful and elegant. A small but practical bathroom lead off of the only door in the room. There was about an hour and a half until dinner, so Rose decided to start writing her letters. Her mother had written one for her last night - her father never wrote one during her first week, protesting it would be too embarrassing for his daughter to get letters from her parents first week. Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry always send a letter together to both her and Hugo the first night, and the rest of her Aunt and Uncles and grandparents send in letters at some point within the first week.

Rose sat down and started writing out her letter to Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny when she got a familiar tingling sensation in her right hand. She assumed it was just because she hadn't been accustomed to writing all summer, but eventually the tingling became to much to ignore. Rose looked down at the palm of the hand, already knowing she'd see the familiar looping scrawl inked magically into her hand.

Please come meet me by our spot.

Her face grew heated just seeing it. She ran to her trunk and took out the special bottle of ink and a ballpoint pen she had since first year. She put the ink in the pen and wrote back on her left hand:

Why should I, you great twat? She tapped her wand on her hand and the message disappeared. A few moments later, the earlier message on her hand disappeared and a new one appeared.

I see you kept your ink - guess you care about me :).

Rose rolled her eyes and scrawled back message.

In your dreams, fart-breath.

Fart-breath? How your insults have fallen - not even a jab at my family name? Pity, just when I thought you, occasionally, would be a decent spar. Besides, most girls would be ecstatic to have a secret meeting with me.

If this is a date proposal, I am shocked that you actually thought you could get up to my level.

As if I would stoop down to date you. No, I just need to talk. There was a brief moment where neither Rose nor the entity on the other side of the pen said anything. All of a sudden, the loopy handwriting returned.

It's about my father.

Rose quickly scribbled back a response.

I'll be there.

A/N: Haha I legit just rediscovered my old account here and decided to write something. Probably shit, but better than some of my old writing, I hope! Tell me what you think please!

A/N Updated: All right, so after writing chapter 6, I decided that this story needed some revising for the sake of the plot. I hope you guys like the changes! I tried to give Rose more personality early on, and since Marcie and Hugo will play some bigger roles later on, I decided to give them some more air time here, along with Scorpius. I'll be revising the following chapters in the next few days. And please, I really don't want to seem desperate, but I am - review review review!

Posted: 10/25/15

Updated: 3/24/16