"You love me, Harry."
"No i don't, Rose. Fuck off."
Rose Black, the daughter of the famous Sirius Black. The only thing she was ever known as. But what she didn't know, is that in just four years, she would be so much more than that. Voldemort and t...
HARRY AND ROSE didn't have a very clear idea of how they had managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel, and into the castle once more. All they knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and that they hardly noticed what they were doing, because their heads were still pounding with the conversation they had just heard.
Rose was thinking...
Why hadn't anyone told her? Why couldn't she remember being in the same house as Lily and James when they were murdered? Why was she put into an adoption center, but Harry got to go to a home? Why was she adopted into a disgusting house with disgusting people with her whole life being full of trauma but that could have been stopped?
Harry was thinking...
Why had nobody ever told him? Dumbledore, Hagrid, Mr. Weasley, Cornelius Fudge....why hasn't anyone ever mentioned the fact that Harry's parents had died because their best friend had betrayed them? It only adds on to the face that Rose was in the same house as Harry when it happened. When was someone going to tell them that?
Ron and Hermione watched Harry and Rose nervously all through dinner, not daring to talk about what they'd overheard, because Percy was sitting close by them. Yes, Rose should be at the Slytherin table but her head was so fuzzy she just followed everyone else. Percy was going to say something, but decided against it realizing Rose would most likely cut his head off.
When they went upstairs to the crowded common room, Hermione pushed Rose towards the Gryffindor common room because she didn't want Rose getting to her own common room alone, not at a time like this. When they entered the common room, it was to find Fred and George had set off half a dozen Dungbombs in a fit of end-of high spirits. Harry, who didn't want Fred and George asking him whether he'd reached Hogsmeade or not, grabbed Rose's arm not even caring that she was a girl, and sneaked quietly up to the empty dormitory and headed straight for bai bedside cabinet while Rose sat on his bed. He pushed his books aside and quickly found what he was looking for—the leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given him two years ago, which was full of wizard pictures of his mother and father. He sat down on his bed next to Rose, draw the hangings around them, and started turning the pages, searching, until....
He stopped on a picture of his parents' wedding day. There was his father waving up at him, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry had inherited standing in all directions. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with his dad. And there...that must be him. Their best man...Harry had never given him thought before.
If he hadn't known it was the same person, he would never have guessed it was Black in this old photograph. His face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. Had he already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realize he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?
