Rose Lily Lightbourn always knew she was adopted. She remembered the bright green light when she was only three years old, she remembered a red haired woman fall lifeless to the ground. She remembered a baby crying on the crib. She remembered a tall...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
• • •
The ways in which you talk to me
Have me wishin' I were gone
• • •
As Monday morning rolled around, Rose Potter laid in her bed, restless. Her blue thoughtful eyes open and staring at the ceiling of her bed as her mind turned and churned, denying her of sleep. The day before, Sunday, she had woke up in Fred Weasley's bed, and that thought haunted her brain since then.
She tried to study for her potions OWL, but she gave up as the flashbacks of the night appeared as a movie every time she closed her eyes. After that, she tried studying with her friends, but that involved the twins and their ability to never stay still for more than thirty seconds. She went back to her dorm after that, frustrated. She tried putting her books away and listening to some old tapes she had packed away under her bed, but there was always something in the lyrics that made her mind wander to Fred. She even tried to blow off some steam and hit the quidditch pitch, knowing, courtesy of Remus, that it was what her dad used to do whenever he was stressed... but it didn't work.
Which is how she ended up laying in her bed at six a.m. with her stomach churning with nerves of her last OWL. She turned her neck to the side, watching as the first rays of sunshine came through the window. Sighing, knowing she would not get any sleep, she rolled out of bed. Her bag was already packed and ready for her exam, so she fetched her robes and went into the bathroom.
She took her time, knowing the other girls wouldn't be up for at least another hour. Carefully, she did her makeup. Curling her eyelashes into perfection and spreading powder over her nose. Finally, after almost thirty minutes, she left the bathroom, fully changed into her school robes with her bag draped over her shoulder.
Rose looked over at Amara's bed, knowing her cousin was usually an early riser, but the anxiety might've left her exhausted because soft snores were coming from her mouth as she slept. Huffing, she left the dorm, walking down the stairs and entering the common room quietly.
However, to her surprise, and frankly some excitement, she noticed she was not alone. George Weasley sat on his own on the couch before the dying fireplace with a mug in his hands. He seemed to be in deep thought because he didn't even turned to Rose.
Tilting her head, she walked to were he was. That's when he looked up, curiously and with a angry expression at first, but his features relaxed as soon as he realised who was in his company.
"Hullo, Rosie," George smiled, but Rose could see the faint trace of sadness in his smile. She noticed that he was wearing the same old crimson shirt he was wearing the day before and a black zip up.
"Morning, Georgie," she smiled back, sitting besides him and letting her bag drop at her feet. "Is everything alright? You seem... tired?"
George looked away from Rose, he placed his mug in the table before him and held his face in his hands. Rose knew George wasn't one to stress over something as mundane as exams, so she reckoned he was upset over something else.
![The Lost Potter [Fred Weasley/ Adrian Pucey]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/243681916-64-k934137.jpg)