the red rose is a falcon @rose-ginevra - Tumblr Blog

ravens-malfoy:

He’d sort of hoped he’d find her here. Actually, as he’d made his way over, he’d been torn between hoping she’d be here and hoping she wouldn’t be—because he had a feeling she would be and though he’d set out today to try his hand at talking to her again, he dreaded what would happen when he did.

Scorpius hated confrontation even in his better moments, and he was especially nervous when it came to Rose. Not only because his attempts so far in making things right with her had failed, but because he knew she deserved to be as angry as she was. As hurt as she was. If she never wanted to see his face again, he’d understand. And that was sort of the worst part, wasn’t it? Because at the end of the day, he cared about Rose deeply, and she wasn’t the only one struggling to forgive him for what he did. He’d not been able to do that either. But finding a way to make things right with her was at least the first step in that direction.

A little bell dinged as he stepped through the door—charming, quaint—the bell (or charm, most likely) was probably more about atmosphere than necessity, seeing as the place was small and he doubted there were too many places one could be without being able to see the front door. And there Rose was—curled up in a chair in the corner, looking about as relaxed as she likely could be, given the circumstances.

He actually regretted that he’d have to take that from her. That when she’d hear his voice, or look up and see his face, this little sanctuary she’d built for herself would be shattered. Another easy reason for her to resent him, probably. As if she needed any more.

He took a breath, steeling himself to walk forward—and decided against it to announce himself too early. As though already being there, in front of her, would make his chances of her hearing him out just a little bit better.

“Hey, Rose.”

The day hadn’t been great. That was really all that could be said for it. But it would have been bearable. Would have been, if she’d just been able to keep her head down and be left alone. But no. No, when was the cosmos ever that kind to any Weasley? Of all the things that might have happened to her today, hiding in the corner of a tea shop, she hadn’t been expecting a visit from her ex.

The whole situation was a mess. Though surely he was doing just fine on his own, Rose was still nursing a, if not broken, very bruised heart. And ego, if she was being honest. After all, she would have gladly avoided him for the rest of her life and here he was walking up to talk to her bold as day. Clearly this whole thing hadn’t shaken him. The scene simply reminded her of the egg on her face still. Everyone they both knew seemed to be aware that things had gone badly between them but Rose hadn’t gone around telling everyone the details so it seemed the mostly assumed she was being a petulant brat and was probably to blame. She was, admittedly, an easy target. She wasn’t sure why, maybe the name had something to do with it, but she was an easy target to hate and blame. She’d gotten used to it but it was still bloody annoying.

She gave a nod that was half an admittance of defeat, wincing as she was greeted. “Mm, yeah... that’s about the tone of the day. Hi, I’m just leaving.” That was a lie and he probably still knew her well enough to tell that but she didn’t know what else to do about it. Being in the same place at the moment made her stomach twist in knots with shame and embarrassment and greif for what could have been.

Date: September 4th, 2027

Location: Diagon Alley

Starter: Open

“Don’t know the schedule, I have no interest in your need to speak with her, and I am certainly not her secretary,” Rose did her level best to push off another request for her to get a bear complete stranger in to see her mother. More than once she’d caught herself wondering if Hermione Granger had known the trouble she’d be getting her children into with her chosen career. Rose hadn’t heard from Hugo since all of this began but she didn’t doubt that he’d be just as buried in it and probably not enjoying that, either.

Why did anyone think they could get into the minister’s office simply because her children were involved? Most days they couldn’t even get in to see her if they wanted to, and especially not since Mum’s big policy changes. Rose would very much have liked the tell the multitude of people who had already stopped her on her way to lunch to bugger off but no doubt that would make the papers and then she’d have to deal with her mother, too.

As she felt another hand come down on her shoulder she whipped around, not seeing who it was before she opened her mouth. “Kindly leave me be so I can acquire food before my lunch break is over. I can’t get you or anyone else into the minister’s office!” She reach up to push her stray curls back out of her face, sighing when she recognized the person who had reached out to her. “Bloody... sorry. I just assumed you were someone else. I’ve been stopped three times between the bank and here already.”

#apareciumstarter

angiemcalisters

Erin Kellyman as Kayla in Don’t Forget the Driver 1.03: “Hydrotherapy” (2019)

#roses have thorns : face

open

It’s a long day, just one in a long week, and for some damned reason all of magical Britain seems to be out and about, talking about the blood integration. Rose, of course, had expected this turn of events. Nothing was unexpected when one had Hermione Granger as a mother. The woman was too well connected to not overhear at least one confidential conversation a month when Rose stopped in the family home. It was, frankly, exhausting.

It wasn’t that rose disagreed with the decisions being made. The fair and equal treatment of people within their community should have been sorted out long ago. She just found herself perpetually tired of people carrying on lately. Or maybe she was just in a dark mood. It seemed like everyone she knew and cared for was either distant, had hurt her deeply, or only wanted to be around her to use her as their personal therapist. She wasn’t even sure most of her own family knew what had happened to her in recent times because everyone only wanted to unload their stresses on her. Who, exactly, was Rose meant to talk to?

For now she found the quietest corner of her factories tea house and settled into the plush chair there with a cuppa and a journal where she was sketching out the potential completions of a half eroded spell sigil she was working through for the bank. She was, at least, distracted from the din of the world at large. That was something...