If I Fall for You [Harry Potter: Next Generation]

19. Awakening

Winter had finally descended upon Hogsmead in all its dreary whiteness. The cold nipped at Rose's nose, the snow crunched beneath her boots and the blankness of the whole world did nothing to improve her overall mood.

"...and then he asked me to the Ball! I had no idea what to do so I — Rose, are even  listening?" Lily glanced at Rose worriedly.

"Uh-huh," Rose reassured her.

"Are you sure?" Cynthia pressed. "You look like you're a million miles away again. You okay?"

"Yeah," Rose lied, trying to steer her thoughts away from Scorpius' unmoving form, back up at Hogwarts. He'll wake up. He will.

Looking dubious, Lily continued on with her story. "Anyway, so I just sort of freaked out and bolted. I just ran away. 'Cause, I mean, ew! Richard Parkinson? Ew!! So anyways I was just running for my life and all of a sudden I bumped into — bet you can't guess — "

All of sudden, Cynthis tensed. She stopped dead. "Oh my God," she breathed. "Was it — "

"Ethan Tourneaux, yes!!"

Cynthia squealed and grabbed Rose's arm. "Did you hear that? Did you?"

"Did he ask you to the Ball?" Rose questioned.

"Yes! He did he did hedidhedid!!"

Cynthia pretended to faint. Rose resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Honestly, she'd never understood what everyone saw in Ethan Tourneaux. In her opinion, he was just an uninteresting, egotistical horny bastard. Yes he was tall. Yes he was blonde. But hey, so was Scorpius...!

Damnit, there it was again — why couldn't she stop thinking about him?

Rose waged an internal war against her traitorous emotions while the other two launched into a heated discussion involving dresses, hair, and makeup. After a while the road became lined with storefronts and Lily drifted off with her Gryffindor friends, leaving Rose and Cynthia by themselves.

"I'm cold," Cynthia complained. "Let's go get a Butterbeer."

"Good idea," Rose agreed, relieved at the distraction from the troubled turmoil that was her current state of mind. In truth, she always felt awkward around Lily these days, because while Rose had been assured time and time again that nobody was placing any blame on her, she couldn't help but feel responsible for Albus' death. The guilt of it sat heavy inside her and wouldn't go away, and the ever-present sadness in her friend's eyes did nothing but encourage it.

The warmth of the Three Broomsticks enveloped them as they entered, stomping snow off their boots and tugging off their mitts and scarves and hats, all of which had become rather encrusted.

As always, it was exceedingly crowded, and the Unoccupied Table Hunt took several minutes. Even when they finally managed to snag one, it was occupied by an abandoned Daily Prophet.

BEAUXBATONS STUDENT VANESSA RYAN CHARGED WITH THE MURDER OF ALBUS POTTER, read the headline.

Rose flinched involuntarily. Cynthia frowned and tossed the paper over the heads of the crowd — a rather unnecessary act, since simply turning it over would most likely have sufficed. It landed somewhere near the door and caused a minor scuffle, as flying newspapers are wont to do.

"You're still blaming yourself, aren't you," Cynthia stated in a low voice, after a moment.

She seemed to take Rose silence as a sufficient answer, because she sighed heavily and rubbed her temple. "Okay. Okay. Look, Rose. How could you have done anything to prevent it?"