Blood ━ Harry Potter (1)

II. A PLETHORA OF POTTERS

CHAPTER TWO.
A PLETHORA OF POTTERS

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          Rosalie had always had a hard time speaking to people, sharing things about herself or even introducing herself. She spent her time at the Burrow (where she had been placed over the summer because of Dumbledore) sitting outside and doing work when she was needed to.

         They were apprehensive of her, of course, never trusting the quiet girl who seemed to be perfectly fine, but Rosalie didn't blame them. She had been taught from a young age that speaking out would not be tolerated, and still those lessons won. The Weasleys didn't trust her because even though she was Gryffindor, never once had she proved she could be a part of the Order. Rosalie wasn't close with Harry Potter or his friends, she was just a regular witch who awed at him at first and then moved on to the next pretty object.

         The rest of the Order didn't trust her because she never felt right to them. While she may have gained the trust of Dumbledore before his untimely departure, they didn't see a side of Rosalie Allen that they liked. She wasn't outspoken, she didn't fight for anything, simply going where she was needed without complaint. It made them wonder as to why Dumbledore would even want her in their ranks. And Rosalie never spoke out about it, keeping the secret to herself and her left arm.

         Rosalie Abigail Allen was nothing. Nobody knew who she was. To them, she was just another Gryffindor, even though she had never proved that she deserved to be sorted into the house. She was quiet, mannered, and there was always that sense of something more looming over her. Rosalie never had friends, not really. Maybe in her first year, when she befriended Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, though their trio didn't last long.

         She could agree that they were very nice people, but Rosalie was never a people person. She much preferred the company of herself and maybe a book, spending a majority of her time in the library, stuck in a corner that nobody passed by so that she could never be bothered. Rosalie liked Dean and Seamus, but could never see herself continuing to be their friend.

         Also, she never tried to prove herself, but why would she? She was a pureblood, held above everyone else if you asked a Slytherin, though she had never explicitly placed herself in that category. Everyone assumed Rosalie thought she was better because she never once denied the rumors, thinking that they weren't worth her time.

         And Rosalie knew what they thought of her. She wasn't oblivious to the harsh stares people gave her when they thought she wasn't looking. Rosalie could remember her old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin, joining them at the Burrow with his wife, Nymphadora Tonks, and whispering to the adults about her. Sometimes, the children joined in.

         It didn't bother Rosalie anymore, she had gotten used to it. It didn't matter that she was treated as an outsider at the Weasley household, only rooming with Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger because there was nowhere else for her.

         She spent most of her time away from them, liking the quiet country side they resided on, letting Rosalie have time to daydream and stare at the clouds. No one bothered her, of course, only going outside to tell off the gnomes and get rid of the weeds in the garden. And Rosalie was fine with it, not wanting to speak with them anyways.

         But once dinner time came, she slowly made her way up from the grass and inside the house. Rosalie didn't miss how the conversation seized when she walked inside. There were many people there from the Order, even the Weasley twins were there, a sly smile of both their faces as they looked at her.