DOROTHEA {fred weasley}

sixty nine

Dorothea read the books in every free minute that she had, becoming skilled at quickly pushing them under her bed whenever her mother or Ezra would barge into her room. Clementine seemed too busy to bother herself too much in what her daughter was doing, only remarking on how excited she was for Dorothea's sessions with the Dark Lord to begin, or to make a throwaway comment about how they ought to go wedding shopping too. Dorothea managed to keep both topics out of her head, whenever her mother wasn't around.

Ezra was a different story, though. Since her mother's rather humiliating take-down of him, he treated Dorothea with anger and contempt, but never getting close to her at all. At night, when they were expected to share a room, he'd sleep on the floor, complaining about his back, but refusing whenever Dorothea mused that they'd have to share a bed for the rest of their lives, and that they might as well get used to it now. He was furious at her, and terrified of her mother, that was for certain. It made the witch feel even lonelier, weirdly, with her contact with friends being extremely limited, and the familiar ache of missing Elvira and Fred permeating her heart.

The only slight excitement that Dorothea had was a letter from Camille, stating that she'd be making her move to London permanent, in the next week or so. Dorothea scarcely thought of her cousin, after being furious with her once she left Hogwarts, ashamed and embarrassed to be related to such a backwards-thinking witch. Now though, she supposed, everyone that she would ever be 'friends' with would think like that. Camille was her blood, her age, and similar to her in many ways. Another young Rosier woman having to navigate the wizarding world, perhaps they could have some sort of friendship.

It was okay to be excited, Dorothea decided.

Camille's return fell a week before she was due to have her first wandless duel with the Dark Lord, she welcomed the company, and was happy to have a reason to get away from Ezra, who came home from the ministry increasingly miserable every night.

The blonde witch flouced into the Rosier Manor with the same confident grin she'd always had, the same one she'd flashed George Weasley a couple of years prior when he'd asked her to the Yule ball. She rushed to her cousin as if nothing had changed between them, flinging her arms around Dorothea and squeezing her.

"I missed you, Thea," she spoke in her strong accent, kissing both of the woman's cheeks. "You look beautiful."

Camille looked older, her hair was shorter, now, and she wore floor length black robes, secured over her chest by a familiar R brooch that the women in their family owned. A black tattoo stuck out from her sleeve, Dorothea wasn't sure when she had gotten it.

Clementine clapped her hands together with a smile at the sight of the two witches together, saying "I'll leave the pair of you to catch up. Missy will bring tea," apparating on the spot.

"Still vanishing, I see," Camille smiled, sitting down when Dorothea gestured for her to.

"My mother will never not vanish," Dorothea replied, crossing her legs over each other, wondering if she looked as regal as Camille.

"You look excellent," her cousin said, a hint of admiration in her voice. Her eyes drifted to her reddened dark mark, exposed by her rolled up dress sleeves. "Congratulations, I'm happy for you. I wasn't sure I'd see that on you. Mother said there were... doubts about you..."

Dorothea raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling defensive, "I'm actually to begin training sessions with the Dark Lord next week. I was the first one he picked."

"I never said there were doubts about your strength, Thea. I've not doubted that ever. The Hogwarts rumours even reach France, you know. Particularly when they involve Dorothea Rosier. I heard about you and a certain Weasley twin," she said with a twisted grin.