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Rose sat in front of the common room fireplace. Her parents had said she would be so in love with Hogwarts that she would forget to write them, but she found herself writing to them every day, sometimes multiple times. Friends and classes didn't really occupy her time like they had said they would. She even found she missed her spastic little brother. She wanted to dive head-first into her childish stuffed animals and tell them all her secrets. It was not like she had any real friends to share secrets with.

It was December first, meaning she only had seventeen days to endure before going home. Having it be so close made it even harder put up with the waiting.

It was still dark outside. Lately she had been waking up before everyone else. She would stay in the common room until the clock chimed, and curfew was no longer enforced, be the first person to get her breakfast and first to her classes, never having spoken to a soul. No one but Al would talk to her or sit by her once in class. It would be easy for anyone to be contented with that.

"Rosie?"

She turned and saw James.

"What are you doing up?" His hair was even more ruffled than usual, and his voice sounded like a croak.

"I don't know," she said, turning away and quickly wiping her eyes. "What are you doing up?"

"I wanted to get in some Quidditch. There's going to be some tryouts for a replacement tomorrow. One of the Chasers quit the team because it was 'interfering with schoolwork,' which is bloody stupid. Who would want to give up Quidditch for something as dumb as school?"

"Apparently the Chaser who quit," said Rose. "I'm sure you'll do well at tryouts, James. You're as good a flyer as either of your parents."

"I know that," said James. Humility was never something he suffered from. "I'm just worried they'll be biased against me because I'm younger than everyone else."

"Well, have fun flying," she said, getting her books together and heading for the door.

"Want to come see how awesome I am? I think I've gotten better since you last saw me," said James, fidgeting a bit with his broom.

"Sure, though you may not want to say that sort of stuff at the tryouts. They might keep you off the team for being a berk," she laughed.

"Good point. I won't point out how great I am until I'm on the team," he said with a firm nod.

As they walked to the field, he thankfully prattled on about himself and Quidditch the whole time. Though she was very close with Al, the way that he kept asking her 'how she was doing' had gotten old fast.

That was something about her brother she dearly missed. He never prodded into her emotional state. Hugo would see her being sad, give her a bear hug, then distract her with his hyper merriment.

"Blast! There's someone already there," James said with a kick at some icicle covered brush.

High in the air someone was bundled up and flying. His or her flying was too smooth for it to be a school broom, and Rose vainly tried to decipher what kind it was. The Bundled Someone did a number of first-class acrobatic turns and loop de loops. James let out an impressed whistle.

"He's good!"

"And just how do you know that flyer is a he?"

"Well, look at him. Flies like a guy."

"It could be a girl you know! Holyhead Harpies are all women, and they perform just as well as the men. Even better than the men last year, taking the League Cup!" Rose argued back.

"And that's why you don't have any friends," James said with his annoying lopsided smile, before jumping on his broom and joining the unknown flyer. Rose watched with a frown, and crossed her arms tightly.

She could have tons of friends if she wanted to. It was just because the girls in her dorm were loathsome that she did not have friends in her year yet. She had dubbed the other Gryffindor girls The Quartet. The leader of The Quartet was a pretty brunette named Gemma Davies. Their first day of classes,she had made fun of Rose's hair. The second day of classes Gemma had made rude comments about Rose's height. The third day she made a crack about Rose's lack of friends and got cursed into the hospital wing. Rose had only discolored Gemma's hair to a putrid green color, which didn't really warrant a visit to the hospital wing, but Gemma had cried as if Rose had done a blasting curse. The other three girls did whatever Gemma wanted, and seemed to like her, despite Gemma being one of the stupidest girls in the world, leaving Rose without a female companion. She now had a string of nasty nicknames. The Fiery Dandelion seemed to be the favorite, despite its length. Fiery Dandelion was a rather apt description of her. She much resembled one, what with her long skinny frame, and giant pouf for hair on top. The use of Dandelion even vaguely referenced that she was a Gryffindor and that her name was a kind of flower, but Rose doubted this bit of cleverness had been noted by Gemma or anyone else.

She looked to the air again. James seemed to be getting along with the Bundled Someone, and they were elegantly performing tricks and trying to outdo eachother. James managed to easily make friends, despite being a certified jackass. Her whole family was like that. Victoire was incredibly popular and pretty. Fred, though not quite as well-loved as James, was still very popular. Dominique was one of the prettiest girls in Hogwarts, and had a following of admirers. Al was not exactly popular, but had a group of friends to call his own and seemed to get on well with everyone. Rose only had family members she could occasionally hang out with, but that was enough to completely satisfy anyone. Who needed any friends beyond family? She would always be better off than Malfoy. He did not have a single friend or family member to do anything with, much to her satisfaction.

"Ah, that reminds me!" she said to herself.

Thinking of Malfoy brought her unfinished letter back to mind.

Dear Mum and Dad and Hugo,

Only seventeen days until Christmas vacation begins, and I can't wait to see you all and tell you about my classes. Maybe you can let me perform some spells for you, even though I'm not supposed to? I am dying to show you my charms! I'm very first in that class. That and History of Magic I am soundly the best in. The rest I am either tied or slightly behind Malfoy.

I checked our averages yesterday, and I am still tied for first in my class with him. It's just not fair! No matter how hard I try, he manages to have the exact same average as me.

Al is still the best at potions. I don't know how, but though I will make a textbook perfect potion, he will deviate from the recipe, and it ends up better than mine and Malfoy's. If he weren't my partner, I might be mad!

Thank you for the chocolates, books and that painting Hugo sent. I love you all and miss you so much,

Rose

With a tap of her wand and the command 'send!' her letter vanished from the page. She looked up to see James and the Bundled Someone were merrily tossing a practice Quaffle. The Bundled Someone was a very good flyer, and James was clearly enjoying the challenge of such a skilled opponent. Their flying was beautiful, really. Rose could only wish to be such a natural flyer. Rose was a very good flyer, but compared to others in her family, she knew that she was far outstripped in pure talent. She would have to work hard to be that good at Quidditch, and Rose wasn't sure she had it in her to work that hard. It was those moments where she wished she were a Hufflepuff so she really would be the best. She probably would have already made friends in Hufflepuff too.

James took a sudden nose dive towards her then stopped just feet in front of her nose. After years of him doing this, she was no longer alarmed. The Bundled Someone mimicked her cousin's path and elegantly landed beside him, though giving himself a much more polite distance between himself and Rose.

"All done then?" she asked, smiling at the two with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. "That was wicked flying, you two."

"I know, right?" James said with a broad grin. "I can't wait to play this one someday. That is, if he actually tries out."

"There aren't any openings on the team, right now, but next year there will be one for Seeker," came the muffled reply from behind the anonymous boy's ski-mask.

"You'd do well as a Seeker," Rose said, very impressed. "You're a great flyer!"

"Uh, thanks," looking confused. "We probably need to head back to get breakfast."

"I know I'm famished!" James stated before putting the broom over his shoulders. "Maybe I'll sit with you and get you some friends, Rosie."

"I- I don't need your help making friends, thank much, James."

"Well, you're not going to find any in that group of girls in your dorm, that's for sure. They're a bunch of stuck up bitches. What were they calling you again? Something about a dandelion on fire?"

Rose took a glimpse at Bundled Whoever, who was purposefully looking away. She looked down at her shoes and felt her face become red.

"Please, just drop it, James," she said pitifully, giving an indicating glance to the stranger with them..

"Oh, right. Sorry," James said with a shrug. She did not think he was actually sorry at all. He rarely was. "Some food is what I need. You should try eating, that always makes me feel better."

"I'm not hungy. You two go on to your breakfasts."

"Don't be sore, Rosie," said James.

"I'm not sore! I just am not hungry," she stated, despite her stomach giving a loud growl in the contrary. She said nothing more before going to the Potions classroom. She didn't even care to find out who the Bundled Someone was. Her eyes were watering and her bottom lip was trembling. She did not need friends in order to be happy. Why did he think she needed help with that?

The door to the Potions classroom was thankfully open, and she didn't have to wait in the hallway with other people.

"Good Morning, Miss Weasley. You're certainly here early," said Professor Cauldwell from his desk.

Rose nodded.

"The Potion for your class will be recorded upon the board in a moment, until then, take a seat," he said with a nod to her normal seat in the front row.

She promptly sat and got out her Weasley Wizard Wordsmith to see if her parents had replied. She unfolded the paper to find nothing but a blank page staring back at her. They were just busy. After all, it wasn't even eight fifteen according to the clock on the far wall. Perhaps they were busy getting Hugo ready for school, and having coffee before work. They would never purposefully ignore her.

"Miss Weasley, if you want, you can set up your cauldron and get your ingredients," said Professor Cauldwell. He nodded towards the board. He had spelled the chalk to record the potion without her noticing.

She started gathering the ingredients and gear she would need. Malfoy had ended up with the cubby at the end, next to hers. No one wanted to chose one next to him, of course. Every time she got to her cubby, he was always there to insult her in some way. They mostly avoided each other, but this was the time of week he seemed to go out of his way to make his loathing of her clear. He was always there, like clockwork. No matter what time she went to her cubby, he would be there, with new and clever insults, and she would have just as many to give him. She looked at the cubby next to hers in anticipation. In a trice she saw him swoop towards his cubby. He was nothing, if not reliable.

"Timely as ever, Malfoy. Your best friend must be your pocket watch."

She waited for his witty retorts to come. They didn't. He ignored her and retrieved vials of ingredients. Part of her felt disappointed.

"Did you run out of material? You could always order your houseelves to write something for you to say. I bet it would be ten times as clever as whatever you would come up with."

Malfoy just fixed her with penetrating stare, his large gray eyes never blinking.

"You get weirder every day," she huffed, grabbing her supplies and taking her seat at the front of the class. Malfoy sat near the back of the class room, as usual.

She took her time setting up her cauldron, checked again to see if she had gotten a reply from her parents, and finished her Charms essay that wasn't due for another week, before other students started trickling in. Al sat next to her with a great thud, looking put out.

"You weren't at breakfast again."

"Strangely enough, I noticed that."

Al gave her a look.

"I went with James to the Quidditch pitch."

"What? Why?" Al asked with distaste.

"Because the only way to get someone to play with her is to tie her to a broomstick," said Gemma Davies, sitting at the table behind her. Her best friend, Hana Zhang, tittered.

"When we poll the 'slow' kids for their opinions, you'll be the first one we talk to, Davies," Rose spat, not bothering to look at the girl. Gemma sniffed and didn't respond.

"Good comeback, Gemma," Al laughed. "Really clever!"

Soon class was underway, and Cauldwell had them all busily brewing cures for vomiting. Cauldwell walked between the students' potions, letting each know how they were coming along. He congratulated Al right off the bat, much to Rose's annoyance. Al had the idea to add some lemon zest in the potion to quell the bitter aftertaste, and it worked perfectly, of course. How he was able to deviate from the potion's recipe without ruining it was beyond her. Al looked quietly pleased with himself. Perhaps having the big-headed James for a brother helped you keep your feet on the ground, for Al never bragged about his obviously superior abilities at Potions.

"Let's see yours, Miss Weasley," said Cauldwell. He leaned over and carefully inspected the contents of her cauldron. "The correct orange color it should be... Characteristic purple spirals of smoke... Text book example. Well done."

Rose nodded. Cauldwell walked next to Gemma's cauldron, which was a strange greenish color and emitting blue clouds of smoke. Gemma's perfectly quaffed hair was looking a bit wilted.

"Miss Davies, you added the ginger root too soon. Class, who can tell me what we can do to remedy the problem?"

"If you add minced cardamom and start over from step four, it can be fixed," Rose said, not bothering to raise her hand. Cauldwell nodded in approval. Gemma sneered at Rose, but quickly began to mince her cardamom.

"What step is it from, Hana?" Gemma quietly asked her partner.

"Step four," Rose said automatically.

"What's step four, Hana? I can't read the board. There's too much flaming hair in my way," she spat. Al stiffened and turned around to look at Gemma.

"Step four is to add armadillo bile," Rose supplied, rolling her eyes.

"For someone so smart, you'd think she'd have figured out how to get friends," said Gemma.

"Perhaps if any of the girls in my dorm could outsmart a troll, I'd want to befriend them," Rose responded, tightly holding her wand.

"Oh, of course. That's why we're not friends with you!" Gemma laughed. "And here I thought it was because no one wants to be seen with an ugly know-it-all, who guilts her family into tolerating her, and whose only friends are her good grades."

Rose was not aware of raising her wand, all she knew was that she wanted to get that self-satisfied smirk off of Gemma Davies' face. She forgot she was in a classroom. She forgot there was a professor standing not three yards away. She forgot all good curses and hexes... She drew her wand and said the first spell that came to mind--

"Vacca vocus!"

Quite suddenly Gemma's skin broke out into purple boils and her hair began to fall out.

In her panic to escape, Gemma knocked her cauldron over onto herself and Hana, who let out a high pitched scream.

Rose looked on, agog, as the burner rolled from under the cauldron and caught the table on fire. All the students began to yell and run away from their tables.

"SILENCE! AQUAMENTI!" she heard Professor Cauldwell yell. He then deftly vanished the potion away with a flick of his wand. Cauldwell bent over the girls and muttered a few charms, a vein in his forehead scarily pulsing in anger.

"I don't get it, the spell I did was supposed to make her moo like a cow," Rose muttered to Al, who had turned pale as Nearly-Headless Nick. His wand was out and pointed squarely where Gemma had been standing.

"Moooooo," Gemma whined as Cauldwell gently helped her up. Rose would have laughed if Cauldwell had not been glaring at her.

"Ok, girls, let's get you to the hospital wing," he said quietly. He assigned the rest of The Quartet to accompany them to the hospital wing.

"Weasley. Potter. Put your wands on my desk and escort yourselves to the hallway," Cauldwell said shortly. Rose and Al did so as quickly as they could, heads hung low. "You too, Malfoy."

Rose and Al turned around at the doorway, both equally shocked. Malfoy was hastily trying to hide his wand.

"But- but Professor, I wouldn't help--" Malfoy blustered.

"Malfoy, don't even try to act innocent. I saw you pointing your wand at Miss Davies. Wand on my desk now, if you please."

Malfoy did as he was told and joined them in the hallway, avoiding their eyes, ears turned pink.

Cauldwell had them all sit at the wall in a line. He closed the door behind him with an efficient slam.

"Thirty points will be taken from each of your houses, you will each serve six detentions, and you three are banned from this classroom for the following week--"

"But, Proffessor, how will we keep up?"

"You all have high enough grades that it won't wreak havoc on your averages, Miss Weasley. You will arrive to sit outside this classroom ten minutes early, so I can confiscate your wands accordingly and not waste more class time due to this foolishness. You three know better than to pull out your wand and hex someone, no matter what."

With that he went back into the classroom, leaving the odd trio to sit and contemplate about what they did.

"I'll help you two revise for whatever potions they do next week," Al said with a sigh.

Rose and Malfoy both shot him an angry look.

"What? We all three know I'm the best at potions. It's my one good class. Can't you two stand for someone to be better than you in just one class?" Al said. He gave a knowing laugh at their silence.

"Why did you do that, Malfoy?" asked Rose.

"I didn't do anything," he replied, cooly turning his head away from her.

"There were three spells cast, so we know you cast the third one," said Al.

"Gemma Davies is even more annoying than Weasley, here. The two of them fighting was a headache. I could have just as easily hit Weasley and be just as contented with my balding hex," said Malfoy, never once deigning to look at them.

"You know, for a moment there was I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt. It's like you try to be the most disappointing prat in Hogwarts," Rose said trying to get up and stomp away. Her seat held firmly to the ground.

"Looks like Cauldwell did a sticking charm on all our arses," Al said, trying in vain to lift his hips. Scorpius didn't bother trying to budge.

"Weasley, you have never given anyone the benefit of the doubt."

"I gave you the benefit of the doubt September first," she replied shrilly.

"Ha!"

"I did, you prat! I even thought you were put in the wrong house at first! But you totally weren't. Slytherin fits you just perfect!"

"Thanks for proving my point! You can't help but judge my whole house warped little mind automatically judges people in the harshest light it can, and people always have to prove themselves to you for you to accept them. And you never really do."

"That is not true!" She was sick and tired of being criticized and told how horrible she was.

"If you don't believe me, ask your cousin then," said Scorpius looking at Al.

Al's eyes went wide.

"Oi, don't get me involved in your fight!"

"I don't do that, do I, Al?" Rose said with a smile, knowing her cousin and closest friend would back her up.

"Well... Why are you putting me on the spot like this?" Al asked, looking between the two uncomfortably.

"It's a straight forward question, Al. It shouldn't be that hard to answer," said Rose, tightly.

"I... Not all the time..." Al's voice faded.

Scorpius arched an eyebrow and said nothing.

"You judge people too," cried Rose.

"Not like you do, Rose Weasley. You've done nothing but assume the worst of me the moment I was sorted into Slytherin, bashing my house left and right."

"Well, if Slytherin is so great, why haven't you found any friends there?"

"Like you have any in Gryffindor! I have my family being held against me. It's your personality that keeps you from having any friends."

Rose felt a lead weight settle in her stomach. She hated him. He was smug, and cruel, and right. That was the worst. Everyone hated her, and she deserved it. She had no friends, and did not merit having any. A slow horrible feeling came over her. It started at the base of her spine, and worked its way through her hair. Her lip began to tremble, and her eyes began to sting. Al immediately began to look at her in a panicked way.

"Oh no, Rosie, don't cry," he said, but it was too late.

Try as she did, she could not stop it. A giant sob escaped her. And then another one. Unbidden tears began to come into her eyes. She was in a hallway, bottom stuck to the floor, friendless, horrible, ugly, and crying so hard she was almost certain her eyelids would turn inside out. And Malfoy was there to see her finally break. She was not a pretty crier, like her cousin Dominique, whose perfect tears didn't make her eyes and nose red, and whose face remained porcelain and pristine even in her most heinous of fits. Rose was resembling the blotchy red face of Jupiter in complexion. Al was trying as he could to comfort her from his spot, weirdly patting her frizzy hair.

"I... I hate Hogwarts! I hate it... I want to go home," Rose cried.

"Don't say that, Rosie," Al tried to say consolingly. Rose gave a ridiculous howl of a cry in his direction and pulled her boney knees up to her eyes to hide her red face.

"Here," she heard from her side.

She looked over to see a blur of white handkerchief. Malfoy was holding it, looking at her in his weird solemn sort of way.

"And I-I hate you too," Rose said with a sob, but grabbing the handkerchief all the same.

"Rose!" admonished Al.

"It's fine," Malfoy replied. She made a vociferous honk blowing her nose. She was going to ask him what sort of child goes around with a handkerchief when the bell sounded. Rose felt a panic so keenly she thought she might faint.

"Oh no! Everyone will see!" she cried, trying to wipe her face clear and stop her tears. She looked about for an idea of any sort as to how to hide herself, but none came. She was trapped in her place. The tears hadn't stopped, and her wire thin frame was still shaking with the force of her sobs. The door opened, and out poured the students. Every single one openly stared as they walked past. Cauldwell came out a moment later, and looked at Rose with a sort of bewildered confusion, as if the baring of one's emotions was something strange and foreign he'd never heard of.

"Miss Weasley, are you quite alright?"

Rose shook her head and furiously rubbed at her eyes.

"She's just had a bad day, Professor," Al replied for her.

Cauldwell got a calming draught from his office. The draught helped the crying subside a bit, but did nothing to make her appear less like a red radish. Al walked along the hall, and Rose followed. She gave the odd stifled whimper punctuated with an ugly sniff of her nose as they travelled. Malfoy walked with them, and Rose was too exhausted to give his presence any thought.

"You hungry?" Al asked her.

She was, but would rather die than go into the dining hall in her current condition.

"You want me to find Victoire?"

"No."

"You should go to your dorm and stay there as long as you need," said Scorpius. "Al can explain it to Professor Longbottom. You're one of his favorites, he'll understand."

"That's a good idea," said Al. Scorpius gave a shrug.

Rose nodded and went up to her dormitory, burying her face in her pillow and falling asleep.

She woke up some time later, judging by how the sun was close to setting. Moments like this, where she had the massive dorm room to herself, and could look out over the woods, Hogwarts didn't seem so bad.

There was a basket next to her bed with an assortment of sandwiches and a big blue ribbon on top which she laid into immediately. No doubt Al had arranged that. Once her stomach was satisfied she took the ribbon off and braided it into her vivid hair. Now would be the ideal time to go downstairs and face her huge family. She doubted any of them really wanted to interact with her, but they would be curious. Her whole family was like that. They always wanted to know everybody else's business, even though they pretended otherwise. If an uncle of hers were to be mugged, come sunrise the next day everyone would be capable of reporting the color of the offenders' eyes to the Aurors. There was something comforting in that closeness, she supposed, but not having your more embarrassing moments quickly spread made it decidedly unenviable. Al was one of the few who didn't relish telling everyone else the details. He usually inadvertently would give away her confidences while trying to help. Gemma Davies had been right about her family not wanting to spend time with her. She just knew it. They did it out of duty. Al hung about her as much as he did because she wouldn't have any friends otherwise.

She was about to head downstairs to face her family's questions when she noticed a note in the basket. The script was elegant, dark and slanted, but unrecognizable.

"I saw you are having a rough time of things. I know how it feels. You should stop skipping meals. Try one of the Hufflepuff tables. One of your cousins can introduce you. There are some nice girls there who you would get along with."

It was unsigned.

What an odd note to send someone. Who would write this to her? How did they get it up to her room? She had been caught crying in front of her whole Potions class, so perhaps it was one of them. Perhaps it was a kind professor taking pity on their star pupil. Perhaps it was the plot of a rogue Deatheater, set to poison her! Well, perhaps that was a bit dramatic; but it felt decidedly odd. Who would want to pay that close of attention to her?

There was a knock on the door.

"Coming!" she called, scrambling off her four-poster.

"Rose, it's Neville," she heard through the door.

She quickly opened it for him.

"Hi," said Rose, blushing a bit as he eyed her with concern. She felt patently ridiculous for being so weak as to fetter away her afternoon. He looked rather nervous to be entering the girl's dormitory, and tenuously sat on her messy bed.

"We missed you today in Herbology," he said, patting the seat beside him for her to sit.

"No one missed this ugly- know-it-all," muttered Rose, curling up beside him.

"Now, Rose, I don't want to hear you say things like that," said Neville.

"Why not? It's true. No one likes me here. No one! I haven't one friend. Do you know how miserable it is not to have one friend?"

"I can imagine it."

"I don't think you can imagine how cruel people can be to an ugly thing like me. I'm lanky, freckled, have insane hair... And I'm perfectly obnoxious to everyone. I don't even try to be, I just am. It's miserable knowing everyone dislikes me for just being me. In the end, though, I don't want them as friends. I know it makes me sound wicked, but it's the truth. All the girls do is giggle, none of them are smart or funny. Who needs them!"

Neville was looking at his worn hands as she spoke. He had on fingerless gloves, and had a good bit of dirt hiding under his nails.

"Have you ever heard of the silicis plant, Rose?" Neville asked, picking at his thumb's cuticle.

She shook her head no.

"It's an interesting little plant. When it first starts to grow from a seed, it looks a bit like a weed, all prickles, looks half-dead, and twists around the ground with a stalk that can't support anything, yet alone a lovely flower. All the same, you'll find it planted in almost every garden."

"If it's so ugly and prickly, why would they?"

"Well, it's a dead useful little plant. It slowly crawls up the other plants, but without overtaking them. Its tiny thorns scare off any predators from eating the plants it roosts on, and it makes the earth more fertile. It needs the other plants, though, because it can't reach the sunlight to flourish without them. When the silicis blooms, it is just as pretty as any of those other plants, with blossoms of every color you can imagine. They need each other in order to really reach their full potential."

"So you're saying I need to befriend those girls so I can get a makeover and be pretty, and they can get fertile knowledge?" said Rose, skeptical.

"How in the world you construed that meaning from what I just said is beyond me..." said Neville, looking overwhelmed. "No. I'm just saying, you may think you don't need other people, but you do, and they need you. Who knows how you will help each other, but you do need one another. Everyone has worth, and you never know how it can flourish. I mean, if you judged the silicis by a first glance, you might weed it out before giving it a chance... And you may feel like an ugly little shrub right now, but someday you'll blossom and be the prettiest flower in the garden."

"So you're saying I'm a prickly weedy little thing now?" Rose said, a bit of mirth playing in her blue eyes.

"No! I'm- I'm not very good at picking examples. I'm all about plants, and don't know much about what to say in these situations, despite my having a girl of my own." He looked downright flustered.

"It's ok, Uncle Neville. I think I get what you meant," said Rose, taking hold of his grubby hand. "Thank you. I suppose I just have to be contented with the fact that I'm a ornery shrub right now."

"You're not, Rose," he protested.

"I was only kidding," said Rose with a smile. "But you're right, I really do need to see the worth in others. I may hate that awful Malfoy, but he was right when he said I judge others too quickly. It probably doesn't make me any friends."

"You know, I was surprised you and Malfoy haven't been friends, actually. You two were getting on so well before the sorting feast. And then the next day he was the one to come get me when you were stuck in the stair."

Rose was all astonishment. She had thought Malfoy had left her to suffer in the stair. Instead he had been the one student to help her, and she had returned the favor by insulting his family right off the bat. And today she called him the biggest disappointment in Hogwarts, even though he had just finished getting detention for defending her. She really was nothing but prickles.

"I thought you two were sure to be fast friends, both being so clever and bookish. Well, that's neither here nor there. You should head downstairs to dinner. Your family is quite worried."

"My family?" Rose said dazedly. "Oh no! Have you told my parents? Are they mad?"

"They're more concerned than mad, really. They probably sent you a letter or five. You'd best reply to them tonight."

"I will."

She went downstairs with Uncle Neville to find all of her cousins gathered at the fireplace. James and Fred had a chess board between them but neither were looking at it. Victiore was showing nail charms to Dominique, but the colors kept coming out a dull gray. Al was sitting in the chair, staring at his shoes.

"Hey," said Rose from the stairs.

"Rosie!" they all exclaimed at once.

She was quickly engulfed in a crushing hug, unable to tell who was squeezing the hardest. Neville quietly excused himself from the room.

"I'm sorry I upset you," said James off the bat.

"What? It wasn't you that upset me," replied Rose.

"We all tried to tell him that, but he doesn't listen very well," said Victoire.

"Of course it was me. Sorry I embarrassed you this morning. Don't take what I said to heart, about your not being able to make friends because you're argumentative. You're bound to make a friend outside of the family some time in the next seven years! Some people like swots. I mean, look at your mum! Don't ever think different! I'll bribe them into being friends with you, if I have to! To make it up to you for this morning, you can come see my tryout tomorrow, and even come celebrate my getting on the team afterwards. How'd you like that?" asked James, grinning broadly.

Al rolled his eyes.

"Sounds great," said Rose, shaking her head ruefully. Fred, Dominique and Victoire all looked away from James as if to temporarily disassociate themselves from him.

"The rest of you can come too. Even you, Al. I'm feeling generous."

They headed to dinner together, mostly ignoring James' prattling. As they all sat together laughing and talking, Rose couldn't help but think Gemma Davies hadn't been more wrong about her family. Gemma and everyone else had been wrong, she did have friends in Hogwarts. Who cared if they were her family; they were the best friends a person could ask for. Fred had charmed their spaghetti to float in the air and make noodle drawings by request, one a particularly accurate portrait of the ancient caretaker Filtch, before Headmistress Sprout intervened (though she seemed to have a twitch of a smile as she stopped them.)

As Rose laughed at the spectacle of splattering noodle drawings she felt the peculiar sensation of being stared at. She looked over to the Slytherin table to see Scorpius Malfoy quickly shift his glance back to his plate. He was completely by himself, as usual, with a good yard of space on either side of him. She got the idea to ask him to join them, but as soon as the idea came to her, he put down his utensils and left the Great Hall. It was a silly idea, anyways. He wouldn't want to be friends with her at this point. If their roles were reversed she'd never want to see him again.

She tried her best to have fun the rest of the evening, but it was a bit difficult somehow.

Description
Rose sat in front of the common room fireplace. Her parents had said she would be so in love with Hogwarts that she would forget to write them, but she found herself writing to them every day, sometimes multiple times. Friends and classes didn't really occupy her time like they had said they would. She even found she missed her spastic little brother. She wanted to dive head-first into her childish stuffed animals and tell them all her secrets. It was not like she had any real friends to share secrets with.

It was December first, meaning she only had seventeen days to endure before going home. Having it be so close made it even harder put up with the waiting.

It was still dark outside. Lately she had been waking up before everyone else. She would stay in the common room until the clock chimed, and curfew was no longer enforced, be the first person to get her breakfast and first to her classes, never having spoken to a soul. No one but Al would talk to her or sit by her once in class. It would be easy for anyone to be contented with that.

"Rosie?"

She turned and saw James.

"What are you doing up?" His hair was even more ruffled than usual, and his voice sounded like a croak.

"I don't know," she said, turning away and quickly wiping her eyes. "What are you doing up?"

"I wanted to get in some Quidditch. There's going to be some tryouts for a replacement tomorrow. One of the Chasers quit the team because it was 'interfering with schoolwork,' which is bloody stupid. Who would want to give up Quidditch for something as dumb as school?"

"Apparently the Chaser who quit," said Rose. "I'm sure you'll do well at tryouts, James. You're as good a flyer as either of your parents."

"I know that," said James. Humility was never something he suffered from. "I'm just worried they'll be biased against me because I'm younger than everyone else."

"Well, have fun flying," she said, getting her books together and heading for the door.

"Want to come see how awesome I am? I think I've gotten better since you last saw me," said James, fidgeting a bit with his broom.

"Sure, though you may not want to say that sort of stuff at the tryouts. They might keep you off the team for being a berk," she laughed.

"Good point. I won't point out how great I am until I'm on the team," he said with a firm nod.

As they walked to the field, he thankfully prattled on about himself and Quidditch the whole time. Though she was very close with Al, the way that he kept asking her 'how she was doing' had gotten old fast.

That was something about her brother she dearly missed. He never prodded into her emotional state. Hugo would see her being sad, give her a bear hug, then distract her with his hyper merriment.

"Blast! There's someone already there," James said with a kick at some icicle covered brush.

High in the air someone was bundled up and flying. His or her flying was too smooth for it to be a school broom, and Rose vainly tried to decipher what kind it was. The Bundled Someone did a number of first-class acrobatic turns and loop de loops. James let out an impressed whistle.

"He's good!"

"And just how do you know that flyer is a he?"

"Well, look at him. Flies like a guy."

"It could be a girl you know! Holyhead Harpies are all women, and they perform just as well as the men. Even better than the men last year, taking the League Cup!" Rose argued back.

"And that's why you don't have any friends," James said with his annoying lopsided smile, before jumping on his broom and joining the unknown flyer. Rose watched with a frown, and crossed her arms tightly.

She could have tons of friends if she wanted to. It was just because the girls in her dorm were loathsome that she did not have friends in her year yet. She had dubbed the other Gryffindor girls The Quartet. The leader of The Quartet was a pretty brunette named Gemma Davies. Their first day of classes,she had made fun of Rose's hair. The second day of classes Gemma had made rude comments about Rose's height. The third day she made a crack about Rose's lack of friends and got cursed into the hospital wing. Rose had only discolored Gemma's hair to a putrid green color, which didn't really warrant a visit to the hospital wing, but Gemma had cried as if Rose had done a blasting curse. The other three girls did whatever Gemma wanted, and seemed to like her, despite Gemma being one of the stupidest girls in the world, leaving Rose without a female companion. She now had a string of nasty nicknames. The Fiery Dandelion seemed to be the favorite, despite its length. Fiery Dandelion was a rather apt description of her. She much resembled one, what with her long skinny frame, and giant pouf for hair on top. The use of Dandelion even vaguely referenced that she was a Gryffindor and that her name was a kind of flower, but Rose doubted this bit of cleverness had been noted by Gemma or anyone else.

She looked to the air again. James seemed to be getting along with the Bundled Someone, and they were elegantly performing tricks and trying to outdo eachother. James managed to easily make friends, despite being a certified jackass. Her whole family was like that. Victoire was incredibly popular and pretty. Fred, though not quite as well-loved as James, was still very popular. Dominique was one of the prettiest girls in Hogwarts, and had a following of admirers. Al was not exactly popular, but had a group of friends to call his own and seemed to get on well with everyone. Rose only had family members she could occasionally hang out with, but that was enough to completely satisfy anyone. Who needed any friends beyond family? She would always be better off than Malfoy. He did not have a single friend or family member to do anything with, much to her satisfaction.

"Ah, that reminds me!" she said to herself.

Thinking of Malfoy brought her unfinished letter back to mind.

Dear Mum and Dad and Hugo,

Only seventeen days until Christmas vacation begins, and I can't wait to see you all and tell you about my classes. Maybe you can let me perform some spells for you, even though I'm not supposed to? I am dying to show you my charms! I'm very first in that class. That and History of Magic I am soundly the best in. The rest I am either tied or slightly behind Malfoy.

I checked our averages yesterday, and I am still tied for first in my class with him. It's just not fair! No matter how hard I try, he manages to have the exact same average as me.

Al is still the best at potions. I don't know how, but though I will make a textbook perfect potion, he will deviate from the recipe, and it ends up better than mine and Malfoy's. If he weren't my partner, I might be mad!

Thank you for the chocolates, books and that painting Hugo sent. I love you all and miss you so much,

Rose

With a tap of her wand and the command 'send!' her letter vanished from the page. She looked up to see James and the Bundled Someone were merrily tossing a practice Quaffle. The Bundled Someone was a very good flyer, and James was clearly enjoying the challenge of such a skilled opponent. Their flying was beautiful, really. Rose could only wish to be such a natural flyer. Rose was a very good flyer, but compared to others in her family, she knew that she was far outstripped in pure talent. She would have to work hard to be that good at Quidditch, and Rose wasn't sure she had it in her to work that hard. It was those moments where she wished she were a Hufflepuff so she really would be the best. She probably would have already made friends in Hufflepuff too.

James took a sudden nose dive towards her then stopped just feet in front of her nose. After years of him doing this, she was no longer alarmed. The Bundled Someone mimicked her cousin's path and elegantly landed beside him, though giving himself a much more polite distance between himself and Rose.

"All done then?" she asked, smiling at the two with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. "That was wicked flying, you two."

"I know, right?" James said with a broad grin. "I can't wait to play this one someday. That is, if he actually tries out."

"There aren't any openings on the team, right now, but next year there will be one for Seeker," came the muffled reply from behind the anonymous boy's ski-mask.

"You'd do well as a Seeker," Rose said, very impressed. "You're a great flyer!"

"Uh, thanks," looking confused. "We probably need to head back to get breakfast."

"I know I'm famished!" James stated before putting the broom over his shoulders. "Maybe I'll sit with you and get you some friends, Rosie."

"I- I don't need your help making friends, thank much, James."

"Well, you're not going to find any in that group of girls in your dorm, that's for sure. They're a bunch of stuck up bitches. What were they calling you again? Something about a dandelion on fire?"

Rose took a glimpse at Bundled Whoever, who was purposefully looking away. She looked down at her shoes and felt her face become red.

"Please, just drop it, James," she said pitifully, giving an indicating glance to the stranger with them..

"Oh, right. Sorry," James said with a shrug. She did not think he was actually sorry at all. He rarely was. "Some food is what I need. You should try eating, that always makes me feel better."

"I'm not hungy. You two go on to your breakfasts."

"Don't be sore, Rosie," said James.

"I'm not sore! I just am not hungry," she stated, despite her stomach giving a loud growl in the contrary. She said nothing more before going to the Potions classroom. She didn't even care to find out who the Bundled Someone was. Her eyes were watering and her bottom lip was trembling. She did not need friends in order to be happy. Why did he think she needed help with that?

The door to the Potions classroom was thankfully open, and she didn't have to wait in the hallway with other people.

"Good Morning, Miss Weasley. You're certainly here early," said Professor Cauldwell from his desk.

Rose nodded.

"The Potion for your class will be recorded upon the board in a moment, until then, take a seat," he said with a nod to her normal seat in the front row.

She promptly sat and got out her Weasley Wizard Wordsmith to see if her parents had replied. She unfolded the paper to find nothing but a blank page staring back at her. They were just busy. After all, it wasn't even eight fifteen according to the clock on the far wall. Perhaps they were busy getting Hugo ready for school, and having coffee before work. They would never purposefully ignore her.

"Miss Weasley, if you want, you can set up your cauldron and get your ingredients," said Professor Cauldwell. He nodded towards the board. He had spelled the chalk to record the potion without her noticing.

She started gathering the ingredients and gear she would need. Malfoy had ended up with the cubby at the end, next to hers. No one wanted to chose one next to him, of course. Every time she got to her cubby, he was always there to insult her in some way. They mostly avoided each other, but this was the time of week he seemed to go out of his way to make his loathing of her clear. He was always there, like clockwork. No matter what time she went to her cubby, he would be there, with new and clever insults, and she would have just as many to give him. She looked at the cubby next to hers in anticipation. In a trice she saw him swoop towards his cubby. He was nothing, if not reliable.

"Timely as ever, Malfoy. Your best friend must be your pocket watch."

She waited for his witty retorts to come. They didn't. He ignored her and retrieved vials of ingredients. Part of her felt disappointed.

"Did you run out of material? You could always order your houseelves to write something for you to say. I bet it would be ten times as clever as whatever you would come up with."

Malfoy just fixed her with penetrating stare, his large gray eyes never blinking.

"You get weirder every day," she huffed, grabbing her supplies and taking her seat at the front of the class. Malfoy sat near the back of the class room, as usual.

She took her time setting up her cauldron, checked again to see if she had gotten a reply from her parents, and finished her Charms essay that wasn't due for another week, before other students started trickling in. Al sat next to her with a great thud, looking put out.

"You weren't at breakfast again."

"Strangely enough, I noticed that."

Al gave her a look.

"I went with James to the Quidditch pitch."

"What? Why?" Al asked with distaste.

"Because the only way to get someone to play with her is to tie her to a broomstick," said Gemma Davies, sitting at the table behind her. Her best friend, Hana Zhang, tittered.

"When we poll the 'slow' kids for their opinions, you'll be the first one we talk to, Davies," Rose spat, not bothering to look at the girl. Gemma sniffed and didn't respond.

"Good comeback, Gemma," Al laughed. "Really clever!"

Soon class was underway, and Cauldwell had them all busily brewing cures for vomiting. Cauldwell walked between the students' potions, letting each know how they were coming along. He congratulated Al right off the bat, much to Rose's annoyance. Al had the idea to add some lemon zest in the potion to quell the bitter aftertaste, and it worked perfectly, of course. How he was able to deviate from the potion's recipe without ruining it was beyond her. Al looked quietly pleased with himself. Perhaps having the big-headed James for a brother helped you keep your feet on the ground, for Al never bragged about his obviously superior abilities at Potions.

"Let's see yours, Miss Weasley," said Cauldwell. He leaned over and carefully inspected the contents of her cauldron. "The correct orange color it should be... Characteristic purple spirals of smoke... Text book example. Well done."

Rose nodded. Cauldwell walked next to Gemma's cauldron, which was a strange greenish color and emitting blue clouds of smoke. Gemma's perfectly quaffed hair was looking a bit wilted.

"Miss Davies, you added the ginger root too soon. Class, who can tell me what we can do to remedy the problem?"

"If you add minced cardamom and start over from step four, it can be fixed," Rose said, not bothering to raise her hand. Cauldwell nodded in approval. Gemma sneered at Rose, but quickly began to mince her cardamom.

"What step is it from, Hana?" Gemma quietly asked her partner.

"Step four," Rose said automatically.

"What's step four, Hana? I can't read the board. There's too much flaming hair in my way," she spat. Al stiffened and turned around to look at Gemma.

"Step four is to add armadillo bile," Rose supplied, rolling her eyes.

"For someone so smart, you'd think she'd have figured out how to get friends," said Gemma.

"Perhaps if any of the girls in my dorm could outsmart a troll, I'd want to befriend them," Rose responded, tightly holding her wand.

"Oh, of course. That's why we're not friends with you!" Gemma laughed. "And here I thought it was because no one wants to be seen with an ugly know-it-all, who guilts her family into tolerating her, and whose only friends are her good grades."

Rose was not aware of raising her wand, all she knew was that she wanted to get that self-satisfied smirk off of Gemma Davies' face. She forgot she was in a classroom. She forgot there was a professor standing not three yards away. She forgot all good curses and hexes... She drew her wand and said the first spell that came to mind--

"Vacca vocus!"

Quite suddenly Gemma's skin broke out into purple boils and her hair began to fall out.

In her panic to escape, Gemma knocked her cauldron over onto herself and Hana, who let out a high pitched scream.

Rose looked on, agog, as the burner rolled from under the cauldron and caught the table on fire. All the students began to yell and run away from their tables.

"SILENCE! AQUAMENTI!" she heard Professor Cauldwell yell. He then deftly vanished the potion away with a flick of his wand. Cauldwell bent over the girls and muttered a few charms, a vein in his forehead scarily pulsing in anger.

"I don't get it, the spell I did was supposed to make her moo like a cow," Rose muttered to Al, who had turned pale as Nearly-Headless Nick. His wand was out and pointed squarely where Gemma had been standing.

"Moooooo," Gemma whined as Cauldwell gently helped her up. Rose would have laughed if Cauldwell had not been glaring at her.

"Ok, girls, let's get you to the hospital wing," he said quietly. He assigned the rest of The Quartet to accompany them to the hospital wing.

"Weasley. Potter. Put your wands on my desk and escort yourselves to the hallway," Cauldwell said shortly. Rose and Al did so as quickly as they could, heads hung low. "You too, Malfoy."

Rose and Al turned around at the doorway, both equally shocked. Malfoy was hastily trying to hide his wand.

"But- but Professor, I wouldn't help--" Malfoy blustered.

"Malfoy, don't even try to act innocent. I saw you pointing your wand at Miss Davies. Wand on my desk now, if you please."

Malfoy did as he was told and joined them in the hallway, avoiding their eyes, ears turned pink.

Cauldwell had them all sit at the wall in a line. He closed the door behind him with an efficient slam.

"Thirty points will be taken from each of your houses, you will each serve six detentions, and you three are banned from this classroom for the following week--"

"But, Proffessor, how will we keep up?"

"You all have high enough grades that it won't wreak havoc on your averages, Miss Weasley. You will arrive to sit outside this classroom ten minutes early, so I can confiscate your wands accordingly and not waste more class time due to this foolishness. You three know better than to pull out your wand and hex someone, no matter what."

With that he went back into the classroom, leaving the odd trio to sit and contemplate about what they did.

"I'll help you two revise for whatever potions they do next week," Al said with a sigh.

Rose and Malfoy both shot him an angry look.

"What? We all three know I'm the best at potions. It's my one good class. Can't you two stand for someone to be better than you in just one class?" Al said. He gave a knowing laugh at their silence.

"Why did you do that, Malfoy?" asked Rose.

"I didn't do anything," he replied, cooly turning his head away from her.

"There were three spells cast, so we know you cast the third one," said Al.

"Gemma Davies is even more annoying than Weasley, here. The two of them fighting was a headache. I could have just as easily hit Weasley and be just as contented with my balding hex," said Malfoy, never once deigning to look at them.

"You know, for a moment there was I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt. It's like you try to be the most disappointing prat in Hogwarts," Rose said trying to get up and stomp away. Her seat held firmly to the ground.

"Looks like Cauldwell did a sticking charm on all our arses," Al said, trying in vain to lift his hips. Scorpius didn't bother trying to budge.

"Weasley, you have never given anyone the benefit of the doubt."

"I gave you the benefit of the doubt September first," she replied shrilly.

"Ha!"

"I did, you prat! I even thought you were put in the wrong house at first! But you totally weren't. Slytherin fits you just perfect!"

"Thanks for proving my point! You can't help but judge my whole house warped little mind automatically judges people in the harshest light it can, and people always have to prove themselves to you for you to accept them. And you never really do."

"That is not true!" She was sick and tired of being criticized and told how horrible she was.

"If you don't believe me, ask your cousin then," said Scorpius looking at Al.

Al's eyes went wide.

"Oi, don't get me involved in your fight!"

"I don't do that, do I, Al?" Rose said with a smile, knowing her cousin and closest friend would back her up.

"Well... Why are you putting me on the spot like this?" Al asked, looking between the two uncomfortably.

"It's a straight forward question, Al. It shouldn't be that hard to answer," said Rose, tightly.

"I... Not all the time..." Al's voice faded.

Scorpius arched an eyebrow and said nothing.

"You judge people too," cried Rose.

"Not like you do, Rose Weasley. You've done nothing but assume the worst of me the moment I was sorted into Slytherin, bashing my house left and right."

"Well, if Slytherin is so great, why haven't you found any friends there?"

"Like you have any in Gryffindor! I have my family being held against me. It's your personality that keeps you from having any friends."

Rose felt a lead weight settle in her stomach. She hated him. He was smug, and cruel, and right. That was the worst. Everyone hated her, and she deserved it. She had no friends, and did not merit having any. A slow horrible feeling came over her. It started at the base of her spine, and worked its way through her hair. Her lip began to tremble, and her eyes began to sting. Al immediately began to look at her in a panicked way.

"Oh no, Rosie, don't cry," he said, but it was too late.

Try as she did, she could not stop it. A giant sob escaped her. And then another one. Unbidden tears began to come into her eyes. She was in a hallway, bottom stuck to the floor, friendless, horrible, ugly, and crying so hard she was almost certain her eyelids would turn inside out. And Malfoy was there to see her finally break. She was not a pretty crier, like her cousin Dominique, whose perfect tears didn't make her eyes and nose red, and whose face remained porcelain and pristine even in her most heinous of fits. Rose was resembling the blotchy red face of Jupiter in complexion. Al was trying as he could to comfort her from his spot, weirdly patting her frizzy hair.

"I... I hate Hogwarts! I hate it... I want to go home," Rose cried.

"Don't say that, Rosie," Al tried to say consolingly. Rose gave a ridiculous howl of a cry in his direction and pulled her boney knees up to her eyes to hide her red face.

"Here," she heard from her side.

She looked over to see a blur of white handkerchief. Malfoy was holding it, looking at her in his weird solemn sort of way.

"And I-I hate you too," Rose said with a sob, but grabbing the handkerchief all the same.

"Rose!" admonished Al.

"It's fine," Malfoy replied. She made a vociferous honk blowing her nose. She was going to ask him what sort of child goes around with a handkerchief when the bell sounded. Rose felt a panic so keenly she thought she might faint.

"Oh no! Everyone will see!" she cried, trying to wipe her face clear and stop her tears. She looked about for an idea of any sort as to how to hide herself, but none came. She was trapped in her place. The tears hadn't stopped, and her wire thin frame was still shaking with the force of her sobs. The door opened, and out poured the students. Every single one openly stared as they walked past. Cauldwell came out a moment later, and looked at Rose with a sort of bewildered confusion, as if the baring of one's emotions was something strange and foreign he'd never heard of.

"Miss Weasley, are you quite alright?"

Rose shook her head and furiously rubbed at her eyes.

"She's just had a bad day, Professor," Al replied for her.

Cauldwell got a calming draught from his office. The draught helped the crying subside a bit, but did nothing to make her appear less like a red radish. Al walked along the hall, and Rose followed. She gave the odd stifled whimper punctuated with an ugly sniff of her nose as they travelled. Malfoy walked with them, and Rose was too exhausted to give his presence any thought.

"You hungry?" Al asked her.

She was, but would rather die than go into the dining hall in her current condition.

"You want me to find Victoire?"

"No."

"You should go to your dorm and stay there as long as you need," said Scorpius. "Al can explain it to Professor Longbottom. You're one of his favorites, he'll understand."

"That's a good idea," said Al. Scorpius gave a shrug.

Rose nodded and went up to her dormitory, burying her face in her pillow and falling asleep.

She woke up some time later, judging by how the sun was close to setting. Moments like this, where she had the massive dorm room to herself, and could look out over the woods, Hogwarts didn't seem so bad.

There was a basket next to her bed with an assortment of sandwiches and a big blue ribbon on top which she laid into immediately. No doubt Al had arranged that. Once her stomach was satisfied she took the ribbon off and braided it into her vivid hair. Now would be the ideal time to go downstairs and face her huge family. She doubted any of them really wanted to interact with her, but they would be curious. Her whole family was like that. They always wanted to know everybody else's business, even though they pretended otherwise. If an uncle of hers were to be mugged, come sunrise the next day everyone would be capable of reporting the color of the offenders' eyes to the Aurors. There was something comforting in that closeness, she supposed, but not having your more embarrassing moments quickly spread made it decidedly unenviable. Al was one of the few who didn't relish telling everyone else the details. He usually inadvertently would give away her confidences while trying to help. Gemma Davies had been right about her family not wanting to spend time with her. She just knew it. They did it out of duty. Al hung about her as much as he did because she wouldn't have any friends otherwise.

She was about to head downstairs to face her family's questions when she noticed a note in the basket. The script was elegant, dark and slanted, but unrecognizable.

"I saw you are having a rough time of things. I know how it feels. You should stop skipping meals. Try one of the Hufflepuff tables. One of your cousins can introduce you. There are some nice girls there who you would get along with."

It was unsigned.

What an odd note to send someone. Who would write this to her? How did they get it up to her room? She had been caught crying in front of her whole Potions class, so perhaps it was one of them. Perhaps it was a kind professor taking pity on their star pupil. Perhaps it was the plot of a rogue Deatheater, set to poison her! Well, perhaps that was a bit dramatic; but it felt decidedly odd. Who would want to pay that close of attention to her?

There was a knock on the door.

"Coming!" she called, scrambling off her four-poster.

"Rose, it's Neville," she heard through the door.

She quickly opened it for him.

"Hi," said Rose, blushing a bit as he eyed her with concern. She felt patently ridiculous for being so weak as to fetter away her afternoon. He looked rather nervous to be entering the girl's dormitory, and tenuously sat on her messy bed.

"We missed you today in Herbology," he said, patting the seat beside him for her to sit.

"No one missed this ugly- know-it-all," muttered Rose, curling up beside him.

"Now, Rose, I don't want to hear you say things like that," said Neville.

"Why not? It's true. No one likes me here. No one! I haven't one friend. Do you know how miserable it is not to have one friend?"

"I can imagine it."

"I don't think you can imagine how cruel people can be to an ugly thing like me. I'm lanky, freckled, have insane hair... And I'm perfectly obnoxious to everyone. I don't even try to be, I just am. It's miserable knowing everyone dislikes me for just being me. In the end, though, I don't want them as friends. I know it makes me sound wicked, but it's the truth. All the girls do is giggle, none of them are smart or funny. Who needs them!"

Neville was looking at his worn hands as she spoke. He had on fingerless gloves, and had a good bit of dirt hiding under his nails.

"Have you ever heard of the silicis plant, Rose?" Neville asked, picking at his thumb's cuticle.

She shook her head no.

"It's an interesting little plant. When it first starts to grow from a seed, it looks a bit like a weed, all prickles, looks half-dead, and twists around the ground with a stalk that can't support anything, yet alone a lovely flower. All the same, you'll find it planted in almost every garden."

"If it's so ugly and prickly, why would they?"

"Well, it's a dead useful little plant. It slowly crawls up the other plants, but without overtaking them. Its tiny thorns scare off any predators from eating the plants it roosts on, and it makes the earth more fertile. It needs the other plants, though, because it can't reach the sunlight to flourish without them. When the silicis blooms, it is just as pretty as any of those other plants, with blossoms of every color you can imagine. They need each other in order to really reach their full potential."

"So you're saying I need to befriend those girls so I can get a makeover and be pretty, and they can get fertile knowledge?" said Rose, skeptical.

"How in the world you construed that meaning from what I just said is beyond me..." said Neville, looking overwhelmed. "No. I'm just saying, you may think you don't need other people, but you do, and they need you. Who knows how you will help each other, but you do need one another. Everyone has worth, and you never know how it can flourish. I mean, if you judged the silicis by a first glance, you might weed it out before giving it a chance... And you may feel like an ugly little shrub right now, but someday you'll blossom and be the prettiest flower in the garden."

"So you're saying I'm a prickly weedy little thing now?" Rose said, a bit of mirth playing in her blue eyes.

"No! I'm- I'm not very good at picking examples. I'm all about plants, and don't know much about what to say in these situations, despite my having a girl of my own." He looked downright flustered.

"It's ok, Uncle Neville. I think I get what you meant," said Rose, taking hold of his grubby hand. "Thank you. I suppose I just have to be contented with the fact that I'm a ornery shrub right now."

"You're not, Rose," he protested.

"I was only kidding," said Rose with a smile. "But you're right, I really do need to see the worth in others. I may hate that awful Malfoy, but he was right when he said I judge others too quickly. It probably doesn't make me any friends."

"You know, I was surprised you and Malfoy haven't been friends, actually. You two were getting on so well before the sorting feast. And then the next day he was the one to come get me when you were stuck in the stair."

Rose was all astonishment. She had thought Malfoy had left her to suffer in the stair. Instead he had been the one student to help her, and she had returned the favor by insulting his family right off the bat. And today she called him the biggest disappointment in Hogwarts, even though he had just finished getting detention for defending her. She really was nothing but prickles.

"I thought you two were sure to be fast friends, both being so clever and bookish. Well, that's neither here nor there. You should head downstairs to dinner. Your family is quite worried."

"My family?" Rose said dazedly. "Oh no! Have you told my parents? Are they mad?"

"They're more concerned than mad, really. They probably sent you a letter or five. You'd best reply to them tonight."

"I will."

She went downstairs with Uncle Neville to find all of her cousins gathered at the fireplace. James and Fred had a chess board between them but neither were looking at it. Victiore was showing nail charms to Dominique, but the colors kept coming out a dull gray. Al was sitting in the chair, staring at his shoes.

"Hey," said Rose from the stairs.

"Rosie!" they all exclaimed at once.

She was quickly engulfed in a crushing hug, unable to tell who was squeezing the hardest. Neville quietly excused himself from the room.

"I'm sorry I upset you," said James off the bat.

"What? It wasn't you that upset me," replied Rose.

"We all tried to tell him that, but he doesn't listen very well," said Victoire.

"Of course it was me. Sorry I embarrassed you this morning. Don't take what I said to heart, about your not being able to make friends because you're argumentative. You're bound to make a friend outside of the family some time in the next seven years! Some people like swots. I mean, look at your mum! Don't ever think different! I'll bribe them into being friends with you, if I have to! To make it up to you for this morning, you can come see my tryout tomorrow, and even come celebrate my getting on the team afterwards. How'd you like that?" asked James, grinning broadly.

Al rolled his eyes.

"Sounds great," said Rose, shaking her head ruefully. Fred, Dominique and Victoire all looked away from James as if to temporarily disassociate themselves from him.

"The rest of you can come too. Even you, Al. I'm feeling generous."

They headed to dinner together, mostly ignoring James' prattling. As they all sat together laughing and talking, Rose couldn't help but think Gemma Davies hadn't been more wrong about her family. Gemma and everyone else had been wrong, she did have friends in Hogwarts. Who cared if they were her family; they were the best friends a person could ask for. Fred had charmed their spaghetti to float in the air and make noodle drawings by request, one a particularly accurate portrait of the ancient caretaker Filtch, before Headmistress Sprout intervened (though she seemed to have a twitch of a smile as she stopped them.)

As Rose laughed at the spectacle of splattering noodle drawings she felt the peculiar sensation of being stared at. She looked over to the Slytherin table to see Scorpius Malfoy quickly shift his glance back to his plate. He was completely by himself, as usual, with a good yard of space on either side of him. She got the idea to ask him to join them, but as soon as the idea came to her, he put down his utensils and left the Great Hall. It was a silly idea, anyways. He wouldn't want to be friends with her at this point. If their roles were reversed she'd never want to see him again.

She tried her best to have fun the rest of the evening, but it was a bit difficult somehow.