Delicate

Chapter 13 : The Cherub's Wrath

I return to Hogwarts before everyone else so I can set up for James’ party. Jenny tags along, nattering away about Al, the party, her dress for the party, the necklace Al got her for Valentine’s Day and so on. I nod politely, but I’m not really listening. My mind is on Mum and her crumby flat, on Dad and the fact that he’s a bastard, and on Hugo and his new piercing – can that kid get any weirder? Not exactly positive thoughts, I know. But nothing in my life seems positive these days. 

I get my ‘Organisation Folder’ from the dormitory and read through the party plans a few times. We then head to the Room of Requirement. I concentrate hard on the exact details of the party as I walk past the wall three times, my eyes screwed up in deliberation. Jenny’s so excited as the door appears on the wall – it’s obvious that she’s never been in the Room of Requirement before. See, that’s the great thing about having James Potter as a cousin – I know every single corner of this castle inside out and backways. 

The room is just how I imagined it to be. It’s smaller than the one we held the Christmas party in back in third year, but there are less people coming to this one – every single person in Hogwarts was at the Christmas one. It’s not surprising we were caught. James got detention for an entire month after that. There are about twenty white tables, each with four chairs around them. The chairs have pink cushions and there are pink love heart shaped balloons at each table. The walls are draped with pink and red materials and banners that say “Happy Valentines Day!” 

At the back of the room, there’s a huge space on the floor, with red cushions placed on the floor in a circle for spin the bottle. Along the back wall, there are ten small tables, with chairs either side for Speed Dating. There are speakers on the walls playing music from Merlin knows where. 

“This is amazing!” Jenny gasps. 

“D’you think so?” I ask nervously, “It’s not too much?” 

“Rose, it’s 

brilliant

! You thought of all of this yourself?” 

“You helped,” I say modestly. 

“Oh please,” she says, “this is all you! Are you sure you’re not going to come?” 

“Well…” I say, “I 

might

…” 

“Oh my god! Someone asked you, didn’t they?” she cries, and starts jumping around excitedly. She’s like a puppy. 

“It’s only Mark,” I say nonchalantly. 

“Mark Matthews? Oh Rose, he’s so 

hot

!” she says very uncharacteristically. 

“Okay, steady on girl, you do remember a little someone called Albus Potter don’t you?” 

“Al knows I love him,” she shrugs and then clasps a hand over her mouth as if she really didn’t mean to say that. 

“You 

what

?” I laugh at her embarrassment. 

“I can’t believe I said that out loud,” she says and covers her very red face in her hands, “please don’t tell him!” 

“I won’t,” I say, still laughing, “but just so you know, I think he feels the same.” 

She looks up and she can’t suppress her smile. 

“R-really?” 

“Sure,” I shrug, straightening the centrepiece on one of the tables, “He’s liked you since second year. Don’t get all soppy with me…I can’t really deal with emotions and such.”