Rose hugged her mother tight and glimpsed at her father, with his prominent red hair and slightly reddish freckles, and her brother who looks just as the same.
Rose always wondered why she has an almost pale blonde hair and mercurial eyes. She didn’t even look an inch like her father whose eyes was the bluest she had seen, and even she didn’t inherit her mother’s brown locks and chocolate eyes.
She had even asked her mother if she was adopted, but she hugged her tightly and said: “Rosie, you are not. You may not look like us, but you are not. You’re my daughter.”
She asked the same to her father who just looked at her with sad eyes: “Of course not. Who gave you the idea? Hugo?” and laughed so hard and added: “He’s taking from his Uncle George, he is.” and kissed her forehead.
Her mother said she was mischievous as a child, doing pranks and teasing her little brother. But as she grew, she became more and more attached to books. She was the ‘perfect mix’, her grandparents would always say.
She felt her mother look up and saw a blonde man with a sinister smile approach them.
“How do you do, Granger?” He asked. Rose was confused Granger? Mum’s obviously married to Dad!
“Oi, Malfoy!” Her father said to the blonde man, in an almost-friendly tone.
“I’m mighty fine as well, Weasley.” He replied back smirking.
The man’s eyes flew to her own and asked: “Hello, young lady.”
“Hello.” She said, unsure why the man looked at her with so much longing. She looked down, afraid of thinking what he might do to her.
Her mother approached the man and said in her clenched teeth: “Go away. She obviously doesn’t like you.”
“And who said she doesn’t?” He retorted back.
“Get off now, ferret.” Her father said, capturing her mother’s shaking shoulders.
“And what, rob me of my happiness?” He snapped and Rose jumped from shock.
Her mother was crying now. She doesn’t know what to do. She looked up at the man and studied his features. He didn’t look like the scary Ministry officials she kept seeing. He was rather good-looking for a man whose as old as his father.
The man looked down at her again. “What is it, love?” He asked. Rose didn’t answer as the train guards shouted: “Two minutes to departure!”
Her mother hugged her once more, and so did her father and Hugo. “We’ll talk about this soon. Go on.” She nodded and rode the train.
As soon as the train moved, she saw her parents bid her goodbye. Her father apparated and she saw her mother shouting at the blonde man.
She kept remembering the blonde man’s face. It was just like hers. The same crop of blonde locks and the same steely eyes. The same smirk, and the same stance. She gasped.
It can’t be.
(Source: doberants26)
