A/N: Forever sorry this took so long! I had so much to do with picking my college, and graduating high school, that this got pushed to the back burner. Then, I realized that this wasn't going exactly like I wanted, so I did some revamping, and voila, here's your chapter. Enjoy, I hope. And any suggestions/comments/whatever are welcome. I'm new to this and any and all input will be helpful!

Disclaimer: Yeah. I do not take any credit for the wonderful wizarding world of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 3. Secrets and Snogging

The second Rose entered Gryffindor tower, she was accosted. Being friends with Tove and Hilliard (not to mention having half of her family at Hogwarts with her) made such a thing a common occurrence.

"Are you going to keep me waiting, Barbie?" asked Hilliard.

"Seriously, Rose! How was it?" gushed Tove, "Donovan came in not too long ago, and he looked like he got hit by one too many Cheering Charms."

"I've never seen a grin that big. What did you do to him, Rose?" added Hilliard with a pout, "Lucky girl."

Tove smacked Hilliard with her Charms book, "Keep it in your parts, Hilly. You are such a stereotype."

Letting out a giggle at her friends and their ridiculous antics, Rose collapsed into her favorite chair by the fire. Two sets of curious eyes gazed down at her.

"Donovan has terrible taste in music," she finally said.

"That's it? That's what you decide to tell us?" Hilliard scoffed.

"Well, the Unforgiveables are obviously far superior to the Weird Sisters. And this is important."

"Of course," supplied Tove.

"But how was the date? Who cares about a bloke's taste in music when he has an ass like that?" said Hilliard, earning him yet another smack from Tove's book (and a very sassy, "Well, then why don't you have a go with him?").

"The date was great. Donovan's nice, y'know?"

"Oh. I know this Rose," Tove sunk into the chair beside Rose, letting out a dramatic sigh, "This is 'trying-to-be-nice-Rose.' This is 'we-had-no-chemistry-at-all' Rose. This is 'I'd-rather-be-friends-Rose.' I'm right, aren't I?"

"…I think so. It's just, Donovan is really sweet and I'd love to be his friend, but…that's it. You know?"

"I know. I knew it with Davies in fourth year, and Corner, and Vance last year."

"You went out with Corner? And you let him go?" Hilliard asked, incredulous.

"I didn't even like him."

"You still could have kept him around and snogged him!"

"Not helping!" Tove sent a glare at Hilliard, "Rose…do you think that maybe you have these really high expectations that no bloke could ever live up to? You never really give them a chance. I mean, Donovan really likes you."

"You can say that again!" came the voice of Albus Potter, who plopped himself unceremoniously across from the two girls. "He won't shut up. I had to leave the dormitory just to get away from him."

"Shit. He doesn't really like me, can he? He doesn't even know me, really."

"Don't worry. I bet he would just love the chance to get to know you."

"Albus!"

"Sorry. But it's true, Rose."

"Well, how do I tell him that I don't want to be anything more than friends."

"'I don't want to be anything more than friends' usually works for me," offered Albus.

"Prat."

"He's right, Rose. I know you, and I know it's the last thing you want to do, but you can't just run away from your problems," said Tove, "I still think you should give him a chance, though."

"Bloody hypocrite," muttered Rose under her breath. It was common knowledge that Albus (along with a good chunk of the male population at Hogwarts) had a major crush on Tove, and "giving him a chance" was far from likely.

"I'll think about it," Rose finally conceded, with no intentions to think about it whatsoever.

That night, tucked into bed inside her dormitory, Rose could have sworn that she saw a figure creep past her bed, through the door, and exit the dorm. But, telling herself she was hallucinating in her sleepy state, Rose lay her head back down on her soft, red pillow with gold trim, and drifted back to sleep.

But it wasn't a hallucination. The figure was very much real, and it was very much Tove Mazel.

Tove moved swiftly out of the Common Room, ignoring the Fat Lady's disgruntled protests. She was on a mission: Get to Hogsmeade. Get to The Three Broomsticks. Get a firewhiskey (or two or three or four). Get shitfaced drunk. Forget the shambles that her life was in back home. Forget Hogwarts and lessons and forget everything, because, yes, that sounds nice, doesn't it?

"Dissendium," she hissed as she tapped her wand against the statue of the one-eyed witch, checking over her shoulder. With a sense of urgency, she crept inside the passage way, making her trek to Honeyduke's cellar. Tove couldn't help but remember the first time she'd learned about the existence of such a passage.

She'd been in third year, and as awkward and gangly as could be. Her legs were too long for her body, and her hands were too big, and she didn't know what to do with them. But, all the same, she'd scored herself her very first serious relationship, with a fourth year Ravenclaw boy. After a night of awkward, rushed, sloppy, confused snogging, she'd been making her way back to Gryffindor Tower when she heard the tell-tale footsteps coming from the next hallway over.

At that moment, Tove had ducked into the nearest classroom. Her heart was pounding with the fear of nearly being caught out after curfew, as she flattened herself against the wall, trying to stay in the shadows.

The door opened, and in walked…nobody?

Tove let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. The door closed, and Tove stood straight up. What was going on?

Moments later, her unspoken question was answered, as James Potter, Rose's seventh year cousin, shrugged off the Invisibility Cloak he was shrouded in.

"What would you have done if I was a professor, Mini Mazel?" he grinned down at her.

Tove had just started laughing right then, her nerves coming out in fits of giggles.

"You're a weird one, Mazel," James had said, "And I'm ashamed that a Gryffindor doesn't know how to get around the castle better than this!"

The unlikely pair had spent the better part of the next two hours wandering the castle, with James pointing out every secret passage he had learned with the help of the infamous Marauders Map, which he had nicked from his father's desk one day.

"Who knew there were so many passages?" Tove had said, her eyes wide, taking it all in.

"There's more but some of them are blocked in now. And I reckon you'll never have to use the one under the Whomping Willow, so I won't bother to explain that one," James had answered. The pride that he had in knowing so much about the castle was plainly written on his face.

For the rest of the year, it was like James and Tove shared an inside joke. He'd always make some remark like, "Gotten lost lately?" whenever they passed, and neither would explain to Rose or Albus what was so funny about that.

At this point in her reverie, Tove had made it all the way to Honeyduke's cellar. Of course, the shop was closed, but Tove wasn't stupid. She charmed the alarms silent with a lazy, practiced flick of her wand, and was on her way to The Three Broomsticks in no time.

"The usual," she said, smiling softly when the bartender appeared before the stool she had slipped into. Even though she wasn't 17 yet, Tove had long ago acquired a fake ID.

The surly late night shift bartender nodded at her, before thrusting the strong liquor her way.

It was going to be a long night, thought Tove.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Rose said, pulling open the curtains that surrounded Tove's bed.

"No," was her only answer.

"Come on, don't you want breakfast? Everyone knows the best food is on Sunday, and it goes fast."

"Not hungry. Kill the sun. Too bright. Avada it."

"Tove, what's wrong with you? Are you okay?" Rose asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Don't feel good," came the mumble from the pillows.

"Do you want me to take you to the Hospital Wing?"

"No…I just want to sleep. Go get breakfast. I'm fine."

"Okay. You sure?"

"Yup."

Rose was torn. She didn't want to leave a friend in need, but it appeared her friend didn't want her there. Her morals were conflicting one another, and she stood still for a second, unsure what to do.

"Okay," she finally answered, "But if you need anything, let me know."

"Mmmmph."

Taking the sound as an agreement, Rose grabbed her bag, and went down to breakfast. As she entered the Great Hall, she immediately heard her name being called, with a distinct male voice.

"Rose! Hey Rose…look I meant to do this yesterday, but…"

And with that, Donovan MacBean grabbed Rose's face, and planted a kiss right on her lips.

"Good morning," he said, and walked away, eyes twinkling.

A low whistle sounded from behind where Rose stood, her brown eyes wide with shock at what had just happened.

"So much for just friends," Hilliard whispered into Rose's ear, eyebrows raised, "Nice plan, so how's that one working out for you?"