DOROTHEA {fred weasley}

seventy nine

Camille Rosier sat alone in the Nott Manor's library, twisting her wand between her fingers. Ezra had left her sat there, furious after opening a letter from her mother addressed to the witch.

She'd begged to go back to France, to leave the world she found herself immersed in. Ezra saw it as an abandonment of him. She had tried to reassure him, tell him that she just didn't want to fight. That was an abandonment of the cause, of the Dark Lord, he told her.

She didn't care for this war, not at all. She had her prejudices, her opinions, but she didn't care about the fate of the English wizarding world, not one bit. Beauxbatons was perfect, in her mind. Should she ever have children, that's where she'd go, and whenever she was delusional enough to imagine a future with Ezra, she imagined it in France, exactly where she had grown up.

"The Nott's live here," he had shouted. "This is my manor-"

"This is your father's manor," she replied, sounding bored. 

"One day it will be mine-"

"And Dorothea's. I'm a mistress here, I'm nothing."

"I've told you I'll leave her, fucking hell, Camille. I'm a bit preoccupied to deal with relationship issues. There's a war."

"You can't leave her, not until both of your parents are dead. And I wish nothing on my aunt, she's good to my family."

"Our parents mean nothing-"

"Your parents married you to Dorothea Rosier, not Camille Rosier. They expect heirs-"

"Dorothea and I haven't touched each other since school, that's never going to-"

"That doesn't matter," she had interrupted calmly. "It will happen, with time. The war is wearing her down, it's wearing you down. After all of this is done, love will play no part in any relationship. You and I, we could leave, we could go to France."

"I have a mission."

"A mission which will get you killed," she'd snapped back, standing up and facing him. "Likely by your own wife."

"Dorothea couldn't harm me-"

"Dorothea could kill you with a click of her fingers and you fucking know it, Ezra."

"She wouldn't. We've known each other our entire lives," he said stoically.

Camille had laughed at that, shaking her head. 

"I'll help you, with your mission, I mean. A parting gift. Then I'm going. I have no place here. There's nothing for me."

"I don't need help."

"You've known Elvira the majority of your life, and you think you can look her in the eyes and kill her?"

Ezra swallowed.

"Elvira is a mudblood and a traitor, nothing more."

"She was your best friend, do you really believe you have the mental power, the strength, to look her in the eyes and kill her?"

"Fucking hell. You can come. Fine."

"Then I'm going."

"Do whatever you want," he had snapped, leaving the room.

Camille picked up some parchment and a quill and sighed to herself, writing one letter to her mother, and one to Oliver Wood. She had been thinking a lot, since Ezra and Dorothea's marriage, about where her priorities lay. She'd never thought twice about Ezra, and could hardly say she cared for him at all. But, it made her feel like a girl, being with him, sneaking around. It had began as a nice distraction. Now though, their entire social circle knew about them, jokes and jibes were made, and she hadn't talked to Dorothea in months.