𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔 ☆ 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑦𝑛 𝑃𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝑌𝐸𝐴𝑅 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸 ☆ 16

In the month that followed, Rosalyn and Dumbledore's reputation was restored, and they were now martyrs as well. Umbitch was sacked and, pending an investigation, might be going to Azkaban.

The worst part of the change was Izzy. Not having Sirius anymore, she retreated into her shell and didn't come out. She hadn't spoken to anymore in weeks. Rosalyn had tried to speak to her, had tried to write, but it hadn't worked.

But the best part of it all, was that Fudge was told to resign as Minister.

However, no matter how good this news was, Rosalyn didn't want to remember the last conversation she had with him.

Rosalyn's fourth day in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey had told her that she needed to stay there for at least a week. She was lying on the bed. Harry, Ron and Hermione had just left.

She looked down the beds at Umbridge, who was still in a state of shock. Dumbledore had gone into the forest to rescue her from the centaurs. No one knew how he had done it. He wasn't telling, and no one was asking her.

Anyway, she was bored, very bored, but it didn't mean she wanted another visitor.

"Miss Potter?"

Cornelius Fudge was walking into the hospital wing. Rosalyn looked down. "I've got nothing to say to you," she said harshly. "Well, actually, I do have one thing. Get the fuck away from me."

Cornelius looked down in shame. Rosalyn, however, want on. "If you're here to apologise, I don't want to hear it. I tried, okay? I worked so hard to make you see reason! But you had your posse and that bitch down there making me carve my own hand!"

Fudge looked up. "I was going to apologise, Miss Potter. I want to fix this- relationship. Please. I feel so bad..."

"Good." Rosalyn said harshly. "Feel bad. Feel as bad as I did when you were all calling me a liar and I knew I was telling the truth. When I was reading all the bullshit you put in the Prophet about me. When I wasn't getting allowed to use magic because you were pissing yourself at night about what would happen if Dumbledore used us against you. Feel that bad, Minister, and frankly, I won't care at all."

The Minister looked at her, "Miss Potter, listen, you don't know how hard it was for me-"

"How hard it was for you?" Rosalyn asked in disgust. "Oh poor you, Minister, I feel so sorry..."

"This is no time for silly jokes, Potter!" He growled.

"Then go," Rosalyn suggested. "Because as I said; I have nothing to say to you."

Fudge looked at her, imploring her to listen, but she wouldn't. And after all the hurt and pain he had caused her, it was hardly a surprise.

However, after a month, Rosalyn had decided to ask Dumbledore about the prophecy. They were leaving for the summer tomorrow, so as she was packing, she decided.

Sitting in Dumbledore's office, her headmaster said. "I know how you feel."

"No you don't," Rosalyn shot back.

"I understand you more than Cornelius," Dumbledore chuckled. "I did hear about that encounter, you know."

"I'm sorry," Rosalyn admitted. "I'm just... everything that's happened this year, Umbridge... her stupid regime... the Educational Decrees... it all could've been avoided if Fudge had just believed us."

"It's fine, Rosalyn," Dumbledore said. "I have to admit, I brushed him off in much the same way you did."

Rosalyn smiled, but became sombre immediately. "It's my fault. He's dead because of me. Izzy's not speaking to anyone because of me."