Rosalind Potter - Deep at Sea

Chapter 2

When we finally got to our rooms, I admit I was a bit impressed. I had wealth as a Potter, and by adoption Black, but I had honestly never had a chance to use any of it. I sat down in a chair, and a room service waiter poured champagne into a tulip glass of orange juice and handed it to me. I smiled in thanks, and sneakily gave him a tip form my pocket.

I then noticed all the paintings that were brought in and was awed, even if none of them moved. There were several works here, and I wondered if I was somehow a collector. There is a Monet of water lilies, a Degas of dancers, and a few abstract works I had no clue about. I didn't recognize the paintings themselves, but I did recognize the signatures.

I heard Cal from the balcony say, "Those mud puddles were certainly a waste of money."

I shook my head and said, "You're wrong. They're fascinating. Like in a dream... there's truth without logic. Take this one for instance, it's from Pablo Picasso."

Cal snorts and says, "He'll never amount to a thing, trust me. At least they were cheap."

Again, I ignored him. Before he could say anything more, a porter arrives with a safe and he told them to put it in another room.

I went over towards my rooms and I heard the maid say, "It smells so brand new. Like they built it all just for us. I mean... just to think that tonight, when I crawl between the sheets, I'll be the first—"

Cal comes in, and even I know that this is an inappropriate action, and says with a smirk my way, "And when I crawl between the sheets tonight, I'll still be the first."

I was disgusted. Who does this bloody wanker think he is? I take it back, he's worse than Malfoy. At least Malfoy never gave off creeper vibes, just weasel vibes. The maid just blushed and excused herself from the room.

Cal then comes closer and leers, "The first only. Forever."

I just gave him a blank expression and moved out of the room. I couldn't wait to get away from this guy. It was afternoon now, and mother had us go to the restaurant where we met several more of the upper crust.

I was bored out of my mind, listening to the men drone on. I remember reading about the women in this time period, but I had no idea that it was this bad. I was literally an object to be seen and not heard. It was almost worse than the Dursleys. At least with them I had a purpose.

One of the men was droning on, "...and our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up." He then indicated to another man.

Andrews looked uncomfortable, but piped up with, "Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is...willed into solid reality."

There was one woman who I actually enjoyed being around. Molly. She scoffed and said, "Why're ships always bein' called "she"? Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?"

I almost choked on my water, but I managed to keep it in. I thought she was a riot. She was so ahead of her time, sitting here, a woman by herself. She made me have faith in humanity again.

The waiter came around and asked us what we wanted, but before I could answer, Cal said, "We'll both have the lamb. Rare, with a little mint sauce." Cal then looked at me and said with a fake smile, "You like lamb, don't you sweetpea?"

I smiled back sweetly and said, "Not really." I didn't care about his dark look and said to the waiter, "I'll have the chicken with the gravy please."

I saw the tension around the table after I ordered but pretended not to notice. I could care less what these people think. I did, however, catch Molly's smirk from across the table.

Molly then cuts through the tension with a wide smile and said, "Hey, who came up with the name Titanic? Was it you, Bruce?"

Ismay looked smug and said, "Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury... and safety—"

I cut in and said with another sweet smile, "Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Ismay."

I saw Andrews choke on his breadstick, trying to suppress his laughter. My mother gasped and said, "My God Katherine, what's gotten into—"

I stood up and said, "Excuse me." I then walk calmly away and didn't look back. I needed a breather from the horde. I slowly made my way on to the deck, smiling as I watched children play and run around.

I finally got to the railing, and I took a deep breath. I needed some time alone. I had to think. I knew I could do magic... but how much? I knew that I had to keep away from Cal. There was no way I was going anywhere near him by myself anymore. I took the monstrosity that was my hat off and looked down at it. I then looked back over at the ocean and felt myself grinning madly. Fuck this hat! I flung it, watching as it caught the wind and disappeared over the side of the ship. I felt vindicated. A quiet protest. I laughed for a moment before I then closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

The air was so clear. I felt a pang in my heart as I thought of Hogwarts. My home. Was it still there? Did it exist? What would happen to me? Was I still of Potter blood?

I then felt someone's eyes on me, and I slowly opened my eyes and looked down. I saw a young man, maybe a little older than myself, watching me. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He had dirty blond hair and the bluest eyes. I was captivated by his eyes. I did not look away. Neither did he. Did he feel it too? This connection.

Before I could investigate it further, I felt a hand on my arm. I looked back and saw Cal, who growled, "Katherine. It's time to go back."

I sent a small jolt of magic, making him instantly let go with a small gasp, and gave him a sarcastic smirk, "Of course." I then looked one more time at the ocean, then looked at the blue-eyed man once more (he had not taken his eyes off me) as well and left. When I got back to the table, I ignored Cal's glower and my Ruth's disapproval. I was used to this. The stares. The hate. I could fly circles around this lot.