DOROTHEA {fred weasley}

twenty five

Elvira sat silently in her common room listening to Camille Rosier ranting about George Weasley. She noticed Leila, Adrian and Marcus smirking between each other and then looking over to her. She convinced herself this was just because they knew she was friends with George. Everyone was laughing along with Camille, and Ezra, who were taking turns insulting her friend.

"You're a Rosier, Cami," Ezra laughed. "He was never going to be good enough. A Weasel."

"His robes look like they've been passed down generations," Adrian grinned. Elvira looked at Leila with a disappointed expression. She too was supposedly friends with the Weasley twins through her brother.

"Because they have!" Camille exclaimed, getting riled up. "Whenever George would tell me how many fucking siblings he had I'd nearly die of boredom there's that many!"

Manon cackled in the corner and Elvira rolled her eyes, fixed on the parchment in her lap.

"I mean," Camille continued. "What did he expect? I'm a Rosier, for Merlin's sake. Did he expect me to love them? Does he know who my father is? He's a pureblood-"

"Supposedly," Ezra snorted.

Elvira looked up, biting her tongue, and met Camille's eye.

"You're friends with him, Vi, has he said anything?" The witch asked, chewing her lip.

"No, sorry. I've been really busy today. I've actually been really zoned out. What happened?"

Camille sighed, but was clearly thrilled to have the opportunity to complain more. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped as Dorothea entered the common room. 

"Thea! Thank Merlin. Sit down, I need to tell you something."

"Sorry, Cam. Er- Vira, can I borrow you?"

Camille huffed, "Dorothea, your cousin needs support."

"Her and George broke up," Elvira said, patting the cushion next to her. "Whatever it is can wait."

Dorothea feigned a gasp and sat beside her friend, praying that Camille wouldn't say anything too awful.

"Thank you, Elvira," Camille said sweetly.

"What happened!" Dorothea asked, smiling sympathetically at her cousin.

"He's never respected the Rosier name," Ezra piped up, staring adoringly at Dorothea.

"What do you mean?" Elvira pried.

Camille sat on the sofa opposite her cousin and friend, "all I said, is that there are too many mudbloods in Gryffindor."

Dorothea felt Elvira stiffen beside her and willed her not to say anything.

"Then, he kicked off, turned into a conversation about blood. I tried to explain to him the importance of good breeding, and the problem with mudbloods-"

Elvira threw her book onto the floor and stormed out, not saying a word to anyone.

"What?" Camille exclaimed.

"She's a halfblood, Camille. Not everyone likes talk like that. How'd you think it makes her feel about herself when you're talking about good breeding?"

Ezra and Marcus exchanged a glance.

"I never said anything about halfbloods, did I?" Camille snapped. "I'll talk however I bloody want. If your friend is-"

"I don't like talk like that," Dorothea said, leaning back and crossing her legs.

Camille burst out laughing, "Dorothea Rosier doesn't like mudblood talk?"