So I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted anything on here, butttttt I will be attempting to write another chapter of ‘Their Daughter’!! I am so excited and am hoping to have it up soon!!!
SUMMARY - After having a fit of anger, you realize that, after all, some people near you are meant to make life easier.
WARNINGS - angst; flirt; a little swearing
TAGLIST (message me if you want to be added) - @lucymfer @prongsyy @famdomhideout @anywherebuthere @garyluly
“I can’t believe you just said that!”
Laughing, I continued to run my fingers in Cedric’s hair, messing with his warm, brown locks.
“You’re the one who mentioned his name,” I said in my defense, which only made him frown his brows.
I looked down at him, his head on my lap. Cedric Diggory was a handsome boy and every girl on Hogwarts would’ve killed to be in my place in that moment. My index went down to his face, tracing the shape of his nose, stopping to his bottom lip and then going up to the other one. His soft and sweet lips were the ones which convinced me to stay to his side two years ago, when he kissed the back of my hand after walking me to my Common Room. For already two years Cedric Diggory was spoiling me with his attention, far from people’s eyes. It was nearly a miracle how our nearly-but-not-really-relationship stayed a secret that long. We met in the library, and he got my attention with his manners – very polite and he knew to respect a girl. He walked me to my Common Room every time we’ve met and sometimes I could’ve received flowers from him – daisies, his favorites – something very important in my opinion. Mat’ taught me that a true gentleman is the one who knows how to get his way to your heart subtle, without you realizing it.
“And you’re the one who said he’s handsome – I thought you didn’t like Quidditch that much.”
“My father’s a big fan of him, so I guess I know something about him in particular,” I smiled devilish, watching the jealousy growing on his face.
“D’you like him because he’s Russian? Does it have something to do with your DNA or something?”
“Cedric!” I laughed and slapped his chest gently. “Viktor Krum’s Bulgarian.”
He rolled his eyes. “Same thing, Y/N,” he said. “You fancy him and your dad likes him, that git.”
I knew he was joking, putting that much hate on the name of a famous Quidditch player – but he was funny playing the victim and he only wanted me to have a good time with him, always putting a smile on my face.
“Maybe if your dad would see me playing he’d like me too,” he whispered, playing with the end of my hair between his fingers.
Cedric had those jokes – I preferred to think of them as jokes – he wanted to mention his name to my parents, to tell them my sympathy for the Hufflepuff boy.
I pulled out the air in my lungs and looked away from his face. “Don’t start it again, Ced,” I asked him, already exhausted at the thought of that topic.
“Aren’t you tired of hiding?” he questioned and got up, looking me in the eyes. “Because I am.”
“It’s not like I have a choice,” I sighed and closed my eyes. When I opened them, he was still watching me.
“You do have a choice, Y/N, but you’re not choosing me.”
The accusation hit me like a punch in the stomach – his eyes were dark, nearly black, and I was asking myself if he was sad or mad.
“You don’t understand, Cedric,” I said in the same tonality, hoping to make him give up.
“I do understand your family, but I don’t understand why aren’t you saying something – you’re keeping me a secret for almost two years.”
“What do you want me to say? You want me to tell them I’m madly in love with you and there’s nothing they can do?” I snorted, rolling my eyes which made him even angrier, somehow. I guess I have this hidden talent: to make people angry, and then angrier. “Besides, it’s not like you’re shouting out loud how much time you spend with me, or how much you tell me I’m the best in everything!”
He was amused, I could tell by the way his eyes went smaller, in an almond shape. “You are the one who’s telling me to not tell people! You think I don’t want to tell all those gits who are drooling over you that you’re mine?”
Part of his words were truth: I directly told him to never tell anyone, I even made him swear to me and I told him that I’m a revengeful witch, so I wouldn’t forgive him if he’d broke his promise. But he still was somehow wrong. The gits who are drooling after me, as he called them, are the ones who provided me so much fame in a short time; being a nice looking girl, being unapproachable, made me who I am in Hogwarts – so my reputation, the way my last name was known in that school, was because the boys wanted me and the girls wanted to be me. It took me a while to be comfortable with that idea, but mat’ made sure I’d understand something: I’m a Rosier, people would always want something from me.
“Oh, Cedric,” I laughed and I got up, moving in the small compartment to the window and then to the door – it was a strange habit of mine, “Do you think I’m yours?”
The mean smile on my face made him confused, and that made me smile brighter. “What?”
“Yeah, no, I think it’s cute,” I added and stayed in front of him. “To think that you own me, when we both know it’s not true.”
“You know what I meant, Y/N,” he said exhausted, but he knew very well how much he fucked up the situation.
When I was away from home, I was free: nobody’d tell me what to do, what to say or wear directly, so I wasn’t very pleased to hear that he considered me his property in any way. “I know one think very well, Diggory,” I said in a cold voice, “You don’t own me. In fact,” I laughed, “you couldn’t afford me. Who do you think you are?”
He wasn’t expecting that kind of response from me, that was sure, but he said nothing as I continued to walk. “You want me to tell my parents about you? Tell them what? Mat’, papa, this is Cedric Diggory,” I started a fake speech, laughing, “He’s a very good Quidditch player, papa, he’s in Hufflepuff, he’s in love with me, clearly, but oh, Merlin, he’s too blind to see that he’s also a toy of mine!” I ended rising my hands up in the air.
He was frozen. “What?” was all he could whisper, searching my eyes to look for a little sparkle.
“C’mon, Ced,” I pouted my lips, “Don’t tell me you think that I could see you more than a waste of time! You’re nice, don’t get me wrong.”
“You’re just mad,” he said confident in his words, “You don’t mean it, Y/N, you always talk shit when you’re angry.”
“If that’s so, don’t you think that I’d make ‘our relation’”, I drew the commas in the air, “public? At least at school? Oh, no, darling,” I laughed again, finding very funny that idea, “I don’t show off every toy I get, you know?”
The devilish smile on my lips was erased by the tip of his wand, pointed to my face. “Get out,” he demanded, not even looking at me.
“You’re threatening me?” I asked, holding back my laugh.
“Don’t make me do something I’d regret, Rosier,” he said, now looking at me with a hurt expression.
With a fast move of my hand, I was in the possession of my Reed Wood wand, casting an unspoken spell which made his wand come to me. I took it in my left hand, smiling proudly. “I think you forget who you’re dealing with, love,” I said in a mocking tone, the expression on his face giving me chills all over my spine – he was mad, hurt, annoyed: it made me sad and satisfied at the same time.
“I’ll go now only because I want to,” I clarified and opened the door, “Because nobody tells me what to do, and nobody should point their wand at me, Cedric,” I said in a serious tone, “I thought you’d know better,” I spat and threw his wand at his feet, careful not to damage it, and I closed the door after me, striking it to its frame.
I hated so much that he was right: when mad, I’d tell a lot of shits which were only meant to hurt the person I’d be arguing with. It was a flaw of mine, the short temper, but it hurt me very much to see him pointing his wand at me, wanting to hurt me or at least show me he’d be stronger. As long as I’d have my wand in my hand, nobody could be stronger: my mother always told me that she knew, deep down, that I’d be the strongest witch in my family, especially after I inherited my grandmother’s wand, which had a Dragon Heartstring core.
Even if my words were meant to hurt him, I realized they had something true behind: I knew very well that a relationship with someone who’s not a Pureblood Slytherin was worthless – in the end I wouldn’t have my parents’ approval and they’d eventually find me a husband, something I was still trying to prevent, somehow. Maybe Cedric was a toy for me – a fun thing to distract myself from all the craziness I’ve had in my world. To distract me from my parents’ authority and to give me a sense of leadership. I immediately erased that idea from my mind: my sense of leadership was not given by him; I was a leader, I had people that respected me and I had the authority myself. Hogwarts was the place where I was the Queen, I only needed to remember that.
All the thoughts made me go blind of what was happening in front of me, that explaining why I was hit by a body and than laying down to the metal floor, surrounded by small and colored balls. I was thinking about myself like a God, so that kind of interruption made me boiling mad.
“Are you alright?” asked a voice and a similar one responded before I could even move.
“I don’t think she is, mate.”
I got up, fast, ignoring the pain my ribs were feeling after falling on them, because I didn’t know what amount of skin was shown by my skirt. “Of course it’s you two,” I said in a sour voice, frowning my brows at the sight of the Weasley twins. They were nothing else but trouble and I was lucky enough to have every single class with them.
“It’s just Rosier, Georgie,” Fred said in a bored tone, gaining a slight punch in his shoulder by his brother.
“Are you ok?” George asked in his always kind way. He was acceptable, only a pawn in his brother’s plans, which he followed loyal. Fred, on the other hand, was eyeing me unimpressed by my presence.
To say we hated each other was a big thing: we only wanted to be better than each other. I knew he wanted to be more popular than me by doing all those silly pranks and coming with those crazy ideas, and being in the school’s newspaper was a big deal for both of us. At every big event the little Gryffindor kid – who’s name I could never remember – would be present, would take a photo and then other students, mainly Ravenclaws helped by Hufflepuffs, would write a spicy story, enough to make the whole school to talk about that subject until the next edition. I was the main protagonist when it came about drama, a new jewelry or my performance at the Duelling Club, along with my grades, and he and his twin would be on the front page after doing some crazy shit.
“Good enough to hex your brother,” I said to George, not even looking at Fred. Giving him as little attention as you could was a torture for him.
“We’re sorry,” George apologized, but his brother was fast enough to correct him.
“I’m not,” he commented.
Rolling my eyes and squeezing in my hand the wooden wand, I looked at my nails. “I’m not surprised you’re a jerk, but I think your mother raised you better than this.”
Bringing his family in discussion always made Fred anxious, for a reason or another, even if I always tried to not say something harmful about them.
“I didn’t see you, lawn gnome,” he smirked and I snorted. He got even taller and he found it funny to laugh at me because a nonsense like that.
“Very mature. Where were you hurrying, gingers?” I asked George, out of curiosity.
“Going to meet Colin Creveey,” he said proudly.
When he saw the confusion on my face, he smiled and continued, “For Hognews,” he clarified, mentioning the newspaper’s name.
“We were going to show him our new product, but somebody scattered all over the train,” Fred said in an annoyed voice, looking down to the floor, to the small balls.
“I’m not sorry,” I said to his annoyance.
“We’re still going, we have a few left,” he answered proudly, crossing his hands to his chest. “We’re going to make it first page and you can’t stop us.”
“Oh, Fredrick,” I laughed, making George smile too, “I don’t even want to stop you two from doing such great things.”
He was astonished, just like his brother. “Ok, I think.” George punched him again, straightening his voice – he hit him harder this time, because Fred mouthed a little ow. “I’m sorry for making you fall,” he apologized, doing his brother’s wish.
“Oh, what was that?” I asked, amused, forgetting about the hard feelings between us. “I didn’t hear you.”
He smirked. “I think you didn’t, due to the distance, little gnome.”
I made something which made him stare at me like I was crazy. I stepped on his red shoes, raising myself. I was reaching the level of his eyes now, and it was good enough. “You can repeat now.”
Fred woke up from his daydream and shocked me by putting his hands on my waist, a cocky smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, princess.”
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having me speechless because of his hypocrisy, I smiled. “It’s Queen for you, Weasley.”
currently working on a bill imagine based on “gold rush” by taylor swift... it is already longer than i imagined it would be, should i just make it long (like 6k) or break it up into two parts ???
