Evan Rosier (Harry Potter Fanfic/ Prequel)

3 | 36 | July Is One To Remember

Friday, July 5

Evan gingerly places a hand on my waist and takes my other in his hand. My parents cheer and his watch in content.

My hand drifts to Evan's shoulder and we begin to waltz with the music. Lucky for both of us, I am pretty alright at dancing. Our dignity will be spared this time.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of several sneering girls in groups. I gulp and look back to Evan's eyes. He frowns.

"Anything wrong?" He asks, while I concentrate on not stepping on his foot.

A small, perhaps fearful smile tugs at my lips. "Those girls - those wealthy, high status girls - look ready to murder me."

"Don't worry about them. Look, that one is Asia." He nods at a thin, raven-haired girl. "Her parents are loaded, yes, but she is whiny and undisciplined." He winks at me. "We were still in diapers when we met and I pulled her hair because I thought she was so annoying. Or so my father says."

I let out a small laugh and peer at another girl. This one is taller, and not as skinny. Her red hair is tied into a large bun at the nape of her neck. She's pretty. "What about the ginger?" I ask.

"Gabrielle? She's French, like our family. Not very wealthy and with a low status. I'm pretty sure she's only here because my parents need servers."

I roll my eyes. "She's in a ball gown, not a maid outfit."

"Tina, the short one in the yellow dress. Very poor, but we allowed her to come here because her father is important to the Dark Lord."

My stomach churns at the mention of You-Know-You. It's not a nice feeling.

"And perhaps the second most beautiful one here," Evan says, looking at a brunette girl with a long braid. She is as pretty as Evan tells me. "That's Wanda. She seems like she has it all, she's a pureblood, wealthy, her parents are Death Eaters. Still, my parents don't like her and neither do I. Too clingy, desperate. No ambition at all."

"You said she's the second most beautiful one," I say. I look around the room for anyone who might be the first. "Who's the girl above that?"

"Well, obviously you," Evan answers, his tone way too casual for my liking. Still, I smile, feeling much better about my self.

"Salazar's pole, she showed up?" Evan interrupts, a scowl evident on his face.

"Who?" I look over to where he's frowning and see a brunette with way too shiny hair and a skimpy dress. "Who invited the slag?"

"Belle," Evan scolds, yet laughing. "How about we go introduce ourselves." He leans in to whisper, "And by that, I mean embarrass her."

He closes his hand in mine and heads to the girl who is standing suspiciously close to the tables of food.

"Sierra, so nice to see you," Evan says when we get over there.

"It's Senna," the girl corrects, eyeing him. She brings her gaze to me. "Who are you?" Her cool demeanor, despite her attention-seeking dress, surprises me at first. Also, I didn't expect such a heavy accent.

"This is Arabelle (L/N)," Evan says for me. "She's my date."

"Ah, congratulations," Senna tells me. "Not many of us get the chance of being a Rosier's girlfriend." I can sense a trace of mockery in her voice, but then I realize what her words were. A few head's turn our way at the words "Rosier's girlfriend."