There once was a girl.
She was sweet like a baby.
But you fucked her up.
Made her think she was crazy.
I'm that girl.
But I look different lately.
Cos now I'm a monster.
The monster you made me.
- Chloe Adams.
Magical Luck has changed, Magical Luck...
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I hear your laugh. And look up smiling at you. I run and run. Past the pumpkin patch. And the tractor rides. Look now, the sky is gold. I hug your legs. And fall asleep on the way home.
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Two weeks had passed since the boggart incident, Rosalie had kept her mouth shut, as Ronald and Hermione tried to get her to talk about her greatest fear. She only spoke to her father, telling him everything, he was the only one she wanted to talk to, Tom knew of her fears and always, always, sent her reassurance through their bond. When Niklaus heard her greatest fear, he felt like he had been stabbed with a white oak stake, his own daughter, had the same fear as he did. Fear of being alone.
"You know, the only person I ever really spoke to about how I felt, was your mother." Nikalus said to her, the two speaking through the two-way mirrors.
"What did she say?" Rosalie asked, as she curled under her covers of her bed, the drapes around her bed drawn shut, and a silencing spell surrounding her, so no one woke because of her talking and decide to eavesdrop on her conversation. If anyone did that, they would go missing.
Niklaus smiled, "she told me no matter how far I am, no matter how lost I could be, or no matter how alone I feel, I was never truly alone, because if I looked up to the sky, I would know she was doing the same, watching the stars sparkling, the moon lighting my way home, to her." Niklaus whispered, Rosalie smiling at the words.
"Hey daddy, the stars look really pretty tonight." She said as she waved her hand opening one side of the bed's drapes, to stare at the sky.
Niklaus turned and looked out the window beside him. They really are my little witch." He whispered.
And that night was the night that Rosalie fell asleep, knowing her father wasn't far, and neither was her mum.
Ever since that night she had started to watch the night sky before going to bed, and now sadly it was daytime, and a great buzzing queue of students -- Third Years and older -- each clutching a permission form -- pass by a glowering Filch. It was time for them to go to Hogsmead.
