Rosabella Black |Daughter of Sirius Black| (Book 6)

The Seer Outside

Rosabella's Point of View:
Apparently, a lot of people saw Harry and I leave the common room and we didn't return for a while. This caused a great amount of gossip. Going from we hooked up to Harry proposed. Neither of which has happened and I didn't particularly enjoy Michael's interrogation and lecture.
    "For godsake, Mike! It's just gossip!" I said, annoyed as I sat with Ginny on the common room floor, leaning against Harry's legs.
Ginny was reading the Daily Prophet, while I was giving Winter a belly rub.
    "You'd think people had better things to gossip about." Ginny said.
I frowned as I had already read the Daily Prophet.
    "Three Dementor attacks in a week, and all Romilda Vane does is ambush me in the bathroom and ask me if it's true you've got a Hippogriff tattooed across your chest." I said to Harry.
Ron, Hermione and Ginny all roared with laughter, and Michael chuckled slightlywith a roll of his eyes. Harry ignored them.
    "What did you tell her?"
    "I told her it's a Hungarian Horntail. Much more macho." I said as Ibturned around to face Harry.
Harry leaned down the same time I leaned up and we kissed. It wasn't quick but wasn't long either.
    "Thanks." said Harry, grinning. "And what did you tell her Ron's got?" Harry said grinning as we pulled apart.
   "A Pygmy Puff, but I didn't say where." I said with a mischievous smirk at Ron.
Ron scowled as Hermione and Ginny rolled around laughing. Michael was laughing hard now as well.

As we moved into June, Harry and mines time became extremely limited. With now having to revise for upcoming exams and Harry's constant Saturday detentions we barely had any alone time. So we had gone back to habit of me sneaking into Harry's room every night and sneaking back out before everyone else woke up. While Harry did his detentions, I helped Ginny revise by quizing her and in Transfiguration I would help re explain somethings to her.
On one such evening, I was helping Harry finish a Herbology Essay when Hermione dropped into the seat between him and Ron with an unpleasantly purposeful look on her face. I know that look.
     "Bet you my firebolt that this is about the Prince." I mumbled to Harry lower enough for only Harry to hear.
Harry groaned.
    "I want to talk to you, Harry." Hermione said.
    "What about?" Harry said suspiciously.
Only the previous day, Hermione had told him off for distracting me from revising. 
     "The so - called Half - Blood Prince." Hermione said.
    "Told you." I said to Harry.
    "Oh, not again. Will you please drop it?" Harry groaned.

Harry had not dared to return to the Room of Requirement to retrieve his book, and his performance in Potions was suffering accordingly. Though Slughorn, who approved of whole heartedly of Harry and I, (and had even said to us jokingly he hopes for an invite to the wedding making Harry and I blush and Ron and Hermione to laugh) had jocularly attributed Harry's performance to him being lovesick.
But Harry told me he was sure that Snape had not yet given up hope of laying hands on the Prince's book, and was determined to leave it where it was while Snape remained on the lookout.
     "I'm not dropping it, until you've heard me out. Now, I've been trying to find out a bit about who might make a hobby of inventing Dark spells -" Hermione said.
    "He didn't make a hobby of it -" Harry started to say.
    "He, he - who says it's a he?" Hermione said.
   "We've been through this." I said tiredly as Ron and I gave each an exasperated look.
    "Prince, Hermione, Prince!" Harry said crossly.
    "Right! Look at that! Look at the picture!" Hermione said, red patches blazing in her cheeks as she pulled a very old piece of newsprint out of her pocket and slammed it down on the table in front of Harry.

Harry looked at me and I shrugged. Harry picked up the crumbling piece of paper and stared at the moving photograph, yellowed with age. Ron and I leaned over for a look, too. The picture showed a skinny girl of around fifteen. She was not pretty. She looked simultaneously cross and sullen, with heavy brows and a long, pallid face.
    "Does she remind you of someone? She looks familiar." I said, perplexed.
The others shook there heads.
Underneath the photograph was the caption: