Metanoia | J. POTTER

8 | slytherin

Rose had been released from the infirmary a few days after waking up. When she wasn't in class, she wandered the halls aimlessly, not feeling up for the ridicule that followed with entering the Slytherin common room.

Everyone stared at her when she passed by. She had no idea if they were staring at her because they had heard what had happened or if they were staring because of the scar that permanently adorned her face.

She didn't mind the scar all too much, she supposed it could have been much worse. But accompanied by the staring she wanted nothing more than for it to be gone. Maybe that's how Remus Lupin felt about his own. She had never envied Tonks's ability to change her appearance at will more than she did now.

Rose found herself settled at the trunk of a tree, her sketch pad sitting in her lap. She just wanted to be able to draw and you would think being in a coma for a week would have motivated her. The only thing that came to her mind, however, was one James Potter.

He had been trying to work up the courage to talk to her since their spat in the infirmary, his usual Gryffindor traits apparently thrown out the window when it came to the girl. She knew she had overreacted a little. He had only been trying to make sure she would stay out of trouble; he just didn't exactly have a way with words around Rose like he did with Lily.

She would forgive him, she knew, she always would but when, exactly, she wasn't sure. She hadn't been able to get him off her mind since she woke up and it was driving her nuts.

Rose did not want her thoughts to be captivated by the boy who was also her sister's boyfriend. She would not be that girl who longed for someone who was so incredibly out of reach. She did not have anything more than friendly feelings for James Potter. At least that's what she kept telling herself.

"I thought I'd find you out here," a familiar voice announced and she immediately closed the sketchbook and faced the boy. It was as though he knew she had been thinking about him.

She sent him a tight smile as he settled down in the grass a few feet away from her. They both remained silent for a moment, neither of them entirely sure what to say to the other.

"I'm sorry," they both blurted out in unison, taking each other by surprise. "What are you sorry for?"

James shook his head, gesturing to the girl, "You go first."

She bit her lip anxiously, "You were just being a good friend. Albeit, there were better ways to go about it."

He nodded, "I shouldn't have said it. You are more than capable of handling yourself. You'd beat me in a duel."

This made her smile, "Damn straight."

He smiled as well, picking at the grass nervously, a characteristic that was rare for the Gryffindor. He looked over at her anxiously, running a hand through his hair, "So we're good?"

She nodded, "We're good."

He let out a breath of relief, "Good...that's good."

"I heard you and my sister are fighting," Rose announced and his head shot up in surprise. She waited patiently for him to respond, trying her best not to yell at him to get a move on explaining himself.

"It's complicated," he huffed, resuming his picking of the grass.

"All matters of the heart are," she replied and he looked up at her. They stared at each other for a moment and Rose was the first to break contact. She cleared her throat as she twirled her quill in her hand, "Have you actually tried talking to her or are you just hoping it'll sort itself out?"

He sighed, "The latter."

"That won't do," she informed him. "You need to talk. Communication is important."

He raised an eyebrow, "Since when were you a relationship expert?"

She snorted, "Far from it. But I am a Lily expert." She stopped twirling the quill and tapped the end of it against her knee, "Talk to her. I promise that's the only way to sort this out."

"Yeah?" he asked, glancing over at her with a curious expression.

She nodded, "I know you and more importantly, I know my sister. You two are meant for each other but you'll have to work for it." She gestured toward the school, "Now go fix things."

James stood up reluctantly, dusting his pants off, "Are you sure?"

"Have I ever steered you wrong before?" she countered.

"Fair enough," he nodded. "Wish me luck?"

She grinned, "You're going to need a lot more than luck when it comes to my sister."

He let out a breathy chuckle before saying a quick goodbye to the girl and walking off to the school and after Lily.

Rose let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as she re-opened the sketchbook. She hadn't meant to draw it. It had originally started off as a drawing of James and Lily but that was not the redhead that sat with an adoring expression on her face next to the hazel eyed boy. It was her.

She groaned as she pressed her fingers to her temples. She was so incredibly screwed.

After a couple more hours of scolding herself, the sun had gone down leaving the girl in the dark. She huffed before she waved her wand, sending her belongings to their rightful place in her room.

Rose made her way to dinner, a yawn escaping her lips. She hadn't realized how tired she was until that moment. She heard a set of familiar voices as she made her way to the Great Hall for dinner. She stopped despite herself and listened in on the boy's conversation.

"Oh come on, it's the Slytherin's!" James exclaimed and Rose's eyebrows pinched together in confusion. "It's always the Slytherin's! They're all a bunch of-"

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this," Remus suggested warily, cutting the boy short. Rose had stepped out from where she had been peering around the corner and the boy had no doubt seen her.

"Hmm, all Slytherins are-" he began but as he saw his friends in front of him frantically shaking their heads, he grew confused.

"Go on, Potter," Rose suggested. She stood behind him with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrow raised expectantly. He turned around slowly, a half-hearted laugh escaping his lips as he faced the girl completely. "All Slytherin's are what, exactly?"

"Oh, come on, Rosie, you know I wasn't talking about you," he shook his head and her eyebrow shot up further, if that were even possible.

"Of course you were," she countered. "I'm just like the rest of them."

He shook his head again, "No, you aren't."

"What makes me so different then?" she demanded, her anger getting the best of her. "Is it because I'm a mudblood?"

His face dropped and anger flashed in his expression, "No, that's not it. Of course it's not that."

"Then what is it?" she asked. "Because if it's not my blood status, what makes me so different from the rest of them?"

"You're not like them."

"And yet here you are, not answering my question," she informed him. "How am I different from the rest of them?" His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "Exactly." Sirius, Remus and Peter stood behind the boy uncomfortably, clearly having no idea what to say or do. "And just for the record, asshat, not all Slytherins are bad."