What Goes Up, Must Come Down #Wattys2016

Chapter 24: Do I even have to answer that?

It's been several days since Cedric's death, and I've spent all my time not used during classes cooped up in my room, studying, which is why I am shocked, more at myself, to find myself spending the Friday before school ends for the year in the library with George, talking and laughing like nothing's wrong.

Even though everything is.

I think George knows that too, as I am actually talking to him. Being somewhat civil. He's not used to that, but seems to be enjoying it, and hopefully won't question it. I've given up on hating him. And everyone, for that matter. Life's too short to go around squeezing lemon juice in people's eyes. Too bad someone had to die for me to finally realize that

WHAT THE HECK WHY IS IT ALL SLANTED"So Rosie, I have a question for you." George says, his usual mischievous smirk plastered on his freckled face, and his long red hair hanging over his eyes. Seriously, this guy could use a hair cut. But I don't say that out loud. It's odd, not being pointlessly cruel to everyone who passes my way, but it's actually kind of nice, knowing people actually enjoy my presence.

Rosie. Well that's a new one. Instead of screaming at him to not call me Rosie, however, I just smile back and tilt my head. "And what might it be?"

"We still have one more Hogsmeade trip left before school ends." He began. My cheeks grew a bit red as I realized what he was about to ask. "Would you maybe like to hang out at the Three Broomsticks or something?"

My eyes widen, and the blush that was already on my face grew even more visible. Wait..I've said on multiple occasions that Crouch's do not blush. Everyone who can read my mind knows that. To be fair, however, this is just my head. Can't I just admit to myself that I am capable of doing natural human things? No, no I cannot. Thank you very much and have a good day. See, instead of saying have a bad day, I said to have a good one! That is what I call progress!

"Uh...sure, yeah. That would be fun." I say, sounding more like a question that an answer. I'm not sure when the last time I felt this uncomfortable was. And that's saying a lot, seeing as I have a notebook full of almost every moment that has happened in the past four years right in my hands, my long, unclipped nails sinking into the soft leather cover. I smile weakly at him. Or more at my legs, as I cannot seem to find the ability to look up.

"Great!" He cheers, and I can almost hear him smile.

"Yeah." I sigh, and glance up at him. And I was right, he was smiling.

"So Rosie, wh-"

"Miss Crouch, may I speak with you for a second?" A creepy-calm voice asks from behind me, interrupting George mid-sentence.

I turn around, a little surprised. It was Dumbledore, aka the dictator of Hogwarts. Yes, I'm trying to stay positive about stuff, but I'm still allowed to hate Dumbledore. Right. Right?

"Yes, sir." I say as I stand up, leaving George looking slightly confused as we exit the library and go into an empty hall. "What is it you would like?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath, his eyes closed, and I immediately know what he is about to say isn't good news. "It's quite a long story. But," He sighed again. What, does he have asthma or something? What's with all the deep breaths? "basically, your brother, he was alive."

My jaw drops. Was he being serious? He couldn't be. It's impossible. Barty is dead. Gone. And Dumbledore had the nerve to say something like that?! I was right. He is cruel. I have every right to hate him now. My fingernails make even larger dents in my notebook, as I was clutching in super hard in fury. "What do you mean professor?" As much as I want to be rude to him, he could expel me in a second.

"I mean, your brother broke out of Azkaban, faked his death, took a polyjuice potion and disguised himself as Professor Moody. He entered Harry Potter in the Goblet of Fire, he made sure he made it past every challenge that may come his way, so he could eventually get to the graveyard, where Cedric Diggory was murdered and Voldemort was brought back to life. Your dad caught onto what was happening, and he put him under the Imperius curse. He left the school under it. But Bartemius began to fight it. He came back to the school, where your brother murdered him. After Cedric's murder, he tried to kill Harry as well. But we caught him just in time. He received the demeanors kiss."

That was a lot to take in.

"You...you can't be....you're joking...right?" I say, struggling for words. He was lying. This was all some cruel prank on me. Moody is still Moody who is still alive. Barty is still Barty who is still dead. My father is still my father who is just on a vacation, which he deserves.

Dumbledore shook his head wearily. "I'm afraid not, miss Crouch. I'm so sorry."

***

It's embarrassing to cry in front of the headmaster of your school but sometimes it can't be helped. By the time I had stopped, it was past dinner time, meaning I have been there for nearly an hour. And George is probably still in the library, waiting for me. I don't really care, honestly. George is the least of my worries. Well, actually, I had no worries left. What is there left to loose?

"I think I'm going to go now sir." I mumble hoarsely, not looking up as I turned around and walked the opposite direction across the hall.

I am alone.

All alone.

Literally.

That means I have time to think.

Though thinking is the last thing I want to do right now.

But despite that, I turn the corner, making sure Dumbledore couldn't stalk me, before sinking to the ground, my back against the cold tile wall and burst into tears again. Crying isn't productive, I know. It does nothing. It won't bring my father, Moody/my brother or Cedric back to life. But I don't even care at the moment.

I am there for a long time.

"Hey Rose."

I don't want nor need to look up. It's George. I know that voice like the back of my hand, a fact that I'm not exactly proud of.

"Go away." I manage to sniff between sobs, my face buried in my kneecaps.

"Rosie, are you crying?!" George asked, shocked, yet still concern in his voice. He softly touches my left hand, which is around my leg (my other one is still clutching my stupid and pointless in every way notebook), and I jolt up, not caring about the fact that my eyes are red and puffy and I probably look like an insane person.

"I SAID GO AWAY!"

Okay, maybe I am overreacting. But George deserves it. I think....wait...I'm not suppose to be thinking right now! Cassiopeia, stop thinking! How do I make myself stop thinking?! I know! More screaming. Aren't I genius? Cassiopeia! I told you to stop thinking!

George's eyes widen. "Rosie..."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT! MY NAME IS CASSIOPEIA CARINA CROUCH!"

Then I chuck my notebook at him. He dodged it, and I storm off.

"Wait!" He yells after me. "Are we still on for tomorrow?!'"

Do I even have to answer that?