I wrote this when I was on holiday, and don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Don't Meddle With Love, I just thought I'd put this up as well It's a multi-chaptered fic, but I'm not planning on it being too long…maybe 7 or 8 chapters.

Anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you think!

G xoxo

You were all the things I thought I knew,

And I thought we could be…

You were everything, everything that I wanted.

We were meant to be, supposed to be but we lost it.

All of the memories so close to me just fade away.

All this time you were pretending,

So much for my happy ending.

-My Happy Ending, Avril Lavigne


"Rosie, why are you still in your pyjamas?" my cousin Al (strictly speaking it's Albus, but being blessed with such an unfortunate name I can hardly blame him wanting a nickname) demanded the second he flooed into the kitchen of the burrow. I happened to be sitting on the worksurface drinking a mug of tea in the aforementioned pyjamas. Since our parents had gone on a Christmas break with our muggle grandparents, Hugo (my brother) and I were staying with our Grandparents in the burrow – the site of the annual Christmas Weasley bash.

"Why shouldn't I be?" I smarted back, reaching for a biscuit. I know, I know. Biscuits contain calories. Shock horror. Personally, I'm not one to miss out on a chocolate digestive no matter what their calorific content is. However, despite my near-constant eating I still keep my five foot four frame in shape, what with the endless Quidditch training regimes I suffer through. Only joking, I enjoy them really, they're just pretty tiring.

"My friends are flooing over in about two minutes," he said, and smirked slightly as my jaw dropped mid-chew. "Grandma Molly said they could come to the Christmas dinner as long as they helped sort out the food. Seeing as your parents aren't coming, we have food going spare."

"By friends, I assume you mean those insensitive arrogant sods you waste your time with," I said with a groan. I drew the worst conclusion from Al's Slytherin inspired smirk. "Shit."

"Language, Rosie! Aunt Hermione would have your head if she heard you say that," Al told me, grinning widely and reaching for a biscuit himself.

"She wouldn't if she knew the context. I can't believe you invited your Slytherin friends," I remarked, in wide-eyed horror. "Your brother is going to murder you."

Al shrugged nonchalantly, "So? I have Slytherin cunning on my side."

Yep, you heard right. A Potter. In Slytherin. It almost makes you want to faint at the thought, though apparently Grandma Weasley did when she found out. I could hardly believe it myself at the time. When little Al wandered up to the Sorting Hat, after I'd given him an encouraging smile, I never would have imagined that after several minutes deliberation it would put him in Slytherin. No one did. The whole hall was practically silent and poor Al shuffled to the Slytherin table with his face as red as a tomato. He sat down at the table and the boy sitting next to him, a pointy-faced blonde boy clapped to break the silence and I joined in, so that a polite smattering of applause covered up the gob-smacked mutterings.

I always said the Sorting Hat was off it's head after that (excuse the pun) even though it did put me in Ravenclaw, where I'm certain I belong, the library being my favourite place to hang out.

"But he has all his muscles from his Quidditch days," I reminded him, grinning at the memory of James Potter's, Al's older brother, somewhat arrogant habit of boasting about his upper-arm strength.

"Yeah, but I have a wand," Al said, as if stating the obvious, "and, unlike him, I know how to use it."

"Yeah, to style your hair!" I smirked at him and we both burst out laughing.

It was common knowledge that Albus Potter worked on his hair. Despite having his father's trademark messy hair at 11, it had steadily got straighter and neater – or in his words 'dorkier'. So, he used various spells ever morning to achieve the effortless windswept look that seemed to be the fashion among the guys at Hogwarts.

A fashion trend that was originally started by the tall, striking blonde guy currently stepping out of the fire, the green flames licking his robes as if in adoration.

To say that Scorpius Malfoy, Al's Slytherin best friend (I was his Ravenclaw best friend – as he told me frequently) was good looking was an understatement. I surveyed him standing in front of me over my fifth chocolate biscuit. He was gorgeous as hell, but don't get the wrong idea – I certainly don't like him, and the idea of dating him is as disgusting as it is unlikely. I prefer the intellectual type, so to speak, like my boyfriend of the moment, fellow Ravenclaw, Lorcan Scamander.

So, yes, Scorpius is jaw-droppingly handsome with a killer smile, but I will certainly never date him. Because he is a sick arrogant pig.

And he's a Malfoy (that's reason enough, I think).

"Rosie?!" Scorpius exclaimed on seeing me, doing a double-take and almost knocking over my Grandma's pile of washing. That is a very un-Malfoy-like thing to do. Malfoy's are always calm and collected not clumsy and unco-ordinated. Strange.

"Be careful, you clumsy buffoon," I told him, between mouthfuls, "you're here to help not to cause as much damage as physically possible."

"Is that you?" he asked, eyeing my attire. OK, so I didn't look my best – I'm not a morning person – but to say I was unrecognisable is slightly worrying.

"Who did you think I was? Peeves?" I snapped, sarcastically. Scorpius dusted down his jeans and polo shirt and collected himself. As soon as his oh-so-familiar smirk clawed it's way back onto his face I knew he was back to his normal hideously irritating self.

"Sorry, I hardly recognised you in your clothes…or lack of I should say," he remarked his gaze sweeping me and taking in my whole appearance. I looked down. I was wearing flannel boxers and an old t-shirt with a faded picture of a rather ugly cat. Add to that the image of a pair of large fluffy white slippers, and to be honest, I didn't blame Scorpius for having to suppress his laughter.

I jumped off the worksurface, sniffing indignantly at him and marched over to the bottom of the stairs. Then I paused and quickly rushed back to grab another biscuit. I arrived in time to see Scorpius giving Al a one-eyebrow-raised smirk.

"I forgot my snack," I told them, as they looked at me. I felt Scorpius' eyes linger uncomfortably on my legs, so I quickly grabbed the entire packet of biscuits and then repeated my unaffected march to the bottom of the stairs.

"The fat will go straight on your hips," I heard Scorpius' drawling voice inform me as I put one foot on the bottom step.

"I don't care," I told him, sticking my tongue out (I know…immature) and dashing upstairs to change in the comfort of my Aunt Ginny's old room and nibble a few biscuits while I was at it of course. I quickly pulled on a casual denim skirt which I reserved for the holidays due to it's tatty state, a pair of tights (it was cold!) and a plain blue polo-shirt, and resisting the urge to grab another biscuit, I skipped down the stairs, running a hand through my messy auburn curls in an attempt to tame them. To no avail.

When I reached the kitchen, I noticed that another of Al's friends had arrived: Guilliano Zabini, a messy haired (to fit the fashion craze) Italian boy known to the female population of Hogwarts as Tall, Dark and Hands. Tall, because of his height; Dark, because of his handsome dark features; and hands because of his inability to keep his hands to himself in the presence of anyone female.

I rolled my eyes ostentatiously as upon my entrance to the kitchen he threw me a decidedly dirty wink.

"Well, well, well, Rosie Weasley," he remarked with an insinuating smirk. Merlin, this boy could make something as innocent as a charity appeal seem like some sort of ad for sexual favours.

"Oh wow, you recognise me! That's better than brainless-goon next to you," I said, my voice dripping in sarcasm, with a nod towards Scorpius.

"I don't blame him," Guilliano giving me the once-over. "Who knew you had curves under those hideous school-robes."

"You know what shocks me?" I asked, edging towards the living room door in an attempt to escape the sublime smarminess of their company. Guilliano shook his perfectly coiffured hair arrogantly. "That your perverted comments actually work on some girls. And, in a couple of years they'll be allowed to vote." I shook my head, making a point of appearing disgusted by the thought. Guilliano laughed heartily, and exchanged a somewhat disturbing, from my point of view, smirk with Scorpius.

"So, I suppose I'll have to work a bit harder than my usual lines with you then?" he concluded, his dark eyes flashing at me.

I covered up my slight surprise with a sneer. Yes, Guilliano was renowned for shamelessly shagging almost every girl of a suitable age available to him, but it wasn't exactly like him to make a move on me. Being a slight bookworm, I wasn't exactly first choice for a one-off thing in a broom cupboard. "You'll have to work significantly harder. And you'll have to fight off my boyfriend."

Scorpius spluttered on his drink. "You have a boyfriend?!"

"Is that so hard to believe?" I demanded, as Scorpius looked slightly sheepish for blurting that out.

"Er…no," he muttered. "Who?"

"That's hardly any of your business," I replied, folding my arms and hoping that Al would stop stifling his laughter in the corner of the kitchen to come to my defence.

"I bet it's some spotty little dork," Guilliano announced loudly, to the suddenly silent kitchen. "And they've only go so far as Eskimo kisses." Guilliano smirked at me and when I turned my thoroughly annoyed glare to face him, he licked his lips slowly. I rolled my eyes. Merlin, could he be any slimier if he tried?

"As I said, it's none of your business," I repeated, giving him a look that could kill and he stopped trying to appear seductive. Thank god. It was almost making me want to vomit.

"Al?" Scorpius asked, turning to face Al who had practically shoved his entire fist in his mouth to stop himself laughing at me. "Who is it?" I sent Al a look that clearly said 'DO NOT TELL'.

But Al is a boy. Therefore, incapable of restraining himself when it came to embarrassing his favourite cousin.

"It's Lorcan Scamander." All three of them burst into evil Slytherin hysterical laughter.

Trust me, he was going to pay later. A mince pie smashed in his face would be adequate payment, I thought conspiratorially and smirked slightly at the thought.

"You're going out with that….that…" Guilliano appeared incapable of finishing his statement due to his uncontrollable laughter.

"Nancy boy!" Scorpius finished for him, doubled over and clutching his stomach.

I threw Al an exasperated look and he had the decency to look a little sympathetic.

"I'd rather date him over you anyday," I told them defiantly, and turned on my heel to flounce out of the room.

"Well, if you change your mind I'm always waiting for you, Rosie," Guilliano managed to say through his chuckles. I turned around again to face him, and was about to speak before Al did, albeit the fact that he was still laughing.

"Oi! That's my cousin you're talking about!" Al reminded him, and Guilliano gave him a withering look.

"You hit on my sister at my 17th," Guilliano stated, raising an eyebrow and smirking at him.

"All's fair in love and war, mate," Scorpius said, clapping his two friends over the back as they dissolved into a renewed fit of laughter. I snorted. Boys! Honestly.

A loud bang brought them to their senses. I automatically turned to the source of the noise and saw that an owl had flown down the chimney and had collapsed in a soot covered mound at the bottom of the fireplace. The owl ruffled it's feathers and flew over to the table, causing a cloud of soot to form around it. Once the cloud had cleared I leant forward and removed the letter. It was addressed to me.

I hurried upstairs to open it, knowing that if I opened it in the vicinity of the three Slytherin musketeers, anything the letter said would be over the school by the second day back after the Christmas holidays. I didn't want to take that risk.

I opened it in my room, after shutting the door.


I don't know how to put this in a way that you'll be OK with. I guess it's kind of impossible. But, I need to say it, so here goes. I don't think we can be together any more.

I frantically read the line again hoping I had misread it.

You're a great person, but I've found someone else, and it's not fair to you, or to her. We've been dating since about November, but I couldn't bring myself to tell you because I knew it would hurt your feelings.

Sorry, I hope we can still hang out like we used to.


Damn right it would hurt my feelings! I thought bitterly. I scrunched up the letter, and choked down a sob as tears sprung to my eyes.

How could I be so deluded to think that we belonged together?

I opened the letter again and smoothed it out, before reading it again and again, until my vision turned blurry with tears.

He broke up with me.

I repeated it in my head, trying to get round it.

He broke up with me for some other girl. Some other girl that he had been dating whilst still going out with me. I hated him and I hated her. Didn't she have the decency not to make a move on someone else's boyfriend?

Didn't he have the decency to tell me to my face, instead of writing me a stupid letter in the hope that I wouldn't still be hurt? As if a piece of paper would make the situation any better.

I crumpled up the letter again and made a mental note to burn it at the first opportunity. I buried my head in my pillow and tried to swallow my hurt.

After several minutes of sobbing uncontrollably into my pillow, I sat up and wiped my eyes on the corner of my duvet. I would go tell Lily, I resolved. Her regular stream of boyfriends made her experienced in these matters, she'd know what to do, I told myself.

I grabbed the crumpled up letter and crushed it a bit more in my fist to make me feel better. It didn't really help, so I decided to go through it in the fireplace in the kitchen. No time like the present.

I swung open my door, wiping the last tear away from under my eye. Praying to god that the idiot boys had gone out or something, I hurried down the stairs and threw my letter in the fireplace. Somehow, the sight of the paper catching fire and burning away lifted my spirits slightly, but did nothing to the sadness I was feeling. I sat cross legged on the floor and gazed absent-mindedly into the flames until Grandma Molly came bustling over and almost hit me over the head with a frying pan she was levitating out of the cupboard behind me.

"Oh sorry, dear!" she said, picking the pan up with her hands.

"That's ok," I muttered miserably. She must have noticed the less-than-cheerful tone that I spoke in as she before returning back to the stove she rubbed my shoulder in a motherly way.

"Is everything alright, Rosie?" she asked.

I sniffed quietly. "Lorcan broke up with me," I mumbled.

"That lovely polite tall boy?" Grandma Molly looked shocked that lovely polite boys would do something as impolite as breaking up with someone. "I'm sorry, dear." She genuinely sounded sorry, and I turned and gave her a sad smile. My mouth felt like it had forgotten how to smile. "He was a lovely boy, but not lovely enough for my little Rosie."

"Thanks Grandma," I whispered back, as I stood up and let her pull me into a flowery-smelling hug.

"Go talk to Lily," she told me. "She's had more boyfriends than your Grandad's got plugs." Despite myself, I couldn't help but giggle lightly at Grandma Molly's reference to Grandad Weasley's extensive plug collection. "Well, at least we got a smile on your pretty face!"

I smiled again, with a little more enthusiasm than before, "I'll go find Lily then."

"You won't have to look long. She's in the living room writing an owl to someone or other," she told me, waving me towards the living room with a kindly smile.

"So, let's get this straight, he dumped you for another girl?" Lily asked, a frown forming above her bright brown eyes.

"Yes. He dumped me for another girl who he was meeting with whilst we were still together," I said for what must have been the millionth time.

"He dumped you for another girl?" she repeated, incredulous.

"Do I have to say it again?"

"No, I understand you…I just don't understand him," she frowned. I gave her a questioning look. "Well, you are pretty much perfect. How could he find better than you?"

I snorted loudly. "I am not perfect!" I told her indignantly.

"Yes, you are," she said pointedly. "You are amazingly clever, brilliant fun to be around and absolutely gorgeous."

I punctuated each of her remarks with a disbelieving snort.

"Though, maybe he heard you snorting. That would put anyone off for life," Lily joked, and I rolled my eyes in reply.

"I'm sorry, but I thought you just put ME and absolutely gorgeous in the same sentence," I said.

"Face it, Rosie. You are far prettier than you give yourself credit for." I snorted again and she tried to hit me over the head with the cushion next to her, but I ducked just in time.


"Rosie, have you actually looked in a mirror recently?" Lily demanded, looking very business-like. Last time I saw her like that, she had staged a single-handed mission to turn Hugo from Shy Boy to Quidditch Wonder. Surprisingly, she had succeeded as Hugo was now Keeper on the Gryffindor team. Which is why I was slightly worried about what plan was crossing her devious little mind. She's very organised, is our Lily.

"Yes," I replied, my tone defensive. Lily raised her eyebrows. "It broke when it saw me." I shrugged.

"Don't lie to me, Rose Weasley!" Lily said, holding the cushion up again threateningly.

"Come on, Lily. Who hasn't looked in a mirror at some point in the last month of their life. They're in every toilet at Hogwarts," I told her, batting the cushion out of her hand.

"If that's the case, then why haven't you realised that your pretty," she demanded. Before I could speak, she began talking again. "I am going to make you realise your amazingness!" Oh dear! This is 100%, full-blown Lily Mission Mode. I'm her new victim. Merlin help me. "First, we are going to make your idiot of an ex-boyfriend sick with jealousy, then we are going to stomp on his head!"

"I'm head girl, I can't 'stomp on his head'. I would lose my title," I interjected.

"Metaphorically, genius."

"Oh." I grinned sheepishly. "Uh…Continue."

She rolled her eyes and grinned, before returning to her Mission Mode. "Secondly, we are going to make every girl in Hogwarts green with envy at the thought of you!"

"Good luck," I muttered sarcastically.

"I can work wonders," Lily told me, then she looked up with a diabolically evil grin plastered on her boy-entrancing features. "Your first task is to get rid of your disgusting school uniform."

"But I have to wear that! Otherwise I'll lose my title!" I exclaimed in horror.

"Stop worrying about your stupid title! You'll still be wearing uniform, just slightly more…fashionable," she said thoughtfully.

"By fashionable…do you mean?"

"Fitted shirt. Short Skirt," she grinned. "Oo! That rhymes!"

"I'm not wearing a short skirt," I said stubbornly.

"Do you want to stomp on your idiot ex-boyfriend's head?"

"Metaphorically, yes, of course…" I said.

Lily grinned again. "Then you better do every single thing I tell you to do."

I gulped. Boy was I in for a treat.