Enclosed

Chapter Five: Quicksand

One would think that the worst thing about being confined in a house with their mortal enemy is seeing them every day. They would be wrong. The worst part about living with the enemy is the deafening silence lingering throughout the house. Silence was often a welcoming treat, Rose only got when she was alone. In this case, she wasn't alone. It was awful being stuck in a space with another human and hearing nothing. 

Three weeks passed since Rose first arrived in the safe house. Besides their fight that first day, Rose and Malfoy hadn't spoken a word to each other. Not a single word.

In all honesty, it didn't bother Rose at first. The quiet was just what she needed to focus on her work. Day and night, she spent in the office surrounded by the dim glow of a lamp and parchment. She was used to that. Working in one space for uninterrupted amounts of time. Yet something about this was different. At least when she was at the Ministry, she had the option to leave. Here she was trapped like an owl in its cage. Spending 24 hours in the tight space was starting to weigh on her. The walls seemed to be shrinking each day. Rose would love to stretch her legs for a walk-in Diagon Alley like she usually did when she needed a break from work. 

It was sad that now her only option for a break was either a conversation with the Ferret or a casual walk along the rocky cliffs. Good thing she was feeling adventurous.  

Rose stood from her chair, taking time to stretch and relax her muscles. The satisfying pops and clicks sounded with each movement. Rose cracked her neck once more for good measure, before grabbing a jumper thrown on the back of the chair. It was one of Dimitar's old quidditch jumpers from when they were still in school. When they first began dating, she'd stolen it from him and it quickly became one of her favorites.

It was pale grey and fell down mid-thigh. It held his name and the number 6 on the back. The International Quidditch Society logo was fading on the front. The fabric was soft and felt like receiving a warm hug. She probably should have given it back after the breakup, but at this point Rose considered it to be more her jumper than his anyway. It was too damn comfortable to give up. 

As soon as Rose stepped outside she almost considered going to start a conversation with Malfoy instead. Almost. 

The wind whipped aggressively, as if in a battle with the waves. The sea thrashed, crashing against the rocks, sending its misty remains unto her skin. The sun was gone, swallowed whole by the dark clouds. It might have been a gloomy day but it was still better than her office. 

Rose walked, carefully avoiding the slippery slopes of the icy black rocks. It wasn't the easiest terrain to manage, especially when Rose was the klutziest member of the Weasley clan. It wasn't uncommon to find Rose with bandages wrapped around her head or bruises everywhere. Most of them were self-induced. Running into a bookshelf because she wasn't paying attention. Tripping over thin air and breaking an ankle (an account that happened on two separate occasions). Poking herself in her eye with a wand. Name it and there was a chance Rose was klutzy enough to do it.

Malfoy used to tease her relentlessly for it. Any new injury was met with an insult or 'catchy' song to remind everyone how much she resembled a baby Thestral. It was commonly known that the babies struggled to stay on their feet, which unfortunately was scarily similar to Rose's everyday problems. 

Rose walked the whole of the island, only tripping once (a personal record), before finding a flat rock to rest on. The rock was far enough back from the water that it remained dry and placed in just the right spot to avoid the harsh wind. 

Rose leaned back, placing her chin on her knees. It was surprisingly peaceful out there. From here the stress of her job couldn't reach her. Untouchable. Avoidable. It was nice to step back every once in a while to reset and focus.