Chapter Text
Chapter One
Rose Weasley had everything under control.
Okay, so her cousin Albus dented the doorframe of her new flat with her dresser. Her brother Hugo lost one of her boxes Apparating – how does one even do that? The Ministry guy who was supposed to set up her Floo Network showed up two hours late and then somehow messed it up. He was currently in her living room, swearing under his breath, covered in soot, trying to fix it.
Rose had everything under control, and she was not going to lose her shit. She promised herself.
But she was thankful that Albus and Hugo took a Wednesday morning off – why did move-in days have to be the first of the month? – to help her get everything in her new flat. She was already exhausted and it was only eleven in the morning.
"I think that was the last of the boxes," Albus said, plopping a large box down on the floor of her bedroom. Rose was now surrounded by various boxes, and the thought of going through all of them after packing made her feel even more tired. "Hugo was arguing with the Floo guy."
"What? Why?" she asked, running her wand along the top of the box to open it.
"You know. Hugo's got a temper. The guy was making a mess of it, anyway."
Rose groaned, wiping her sweaty forehead. Note to self: never move in July. "Did he drive him off?"
"Yeah, he said he'd come back next week."
She sat down on an unopened box and exhaled loudly. "Well, I suppose it's not the end of the world. I like walking to work, anyway."
"Yeah, the Ministry isn't too far from here." Albus sat down on a box across from her, running a hand through his unruly dark hair. They could hear Hugo in the kitchen, clanging pots and pans together as he unpacked. "Do you like the building?"
"I do," Rose said, looking around the bedroom again. It was a fairly simple flat – one bedroom, a living room, a kitchen – but she had never lived alone before, let alone in Muggle London.
"Plus, Diagon Alley is just down the road." Albus had a guilty look on his face. He had asked Rose to leave somewhat abruptly.
Apparently in the months leading up to his wedding, he had neglected to tell Rose that she needed to move out of their shared flat in Diagon Alley. She had figured she would move at some point, but she hadn't expected Albus to reluctantly sit her down, practically giving her a two-week notice.
Thankfully, he'd made it up to her, taking several days off at his job in the Auror department to help her find a new flat. They managed to find Rose's new place in a week, and even though it was slightly out of her budget, she would be living by herself. Alone.
Which was exactly what she needed.
"Stop apologizing, Albus," Rose said, seeing the look on his face. It was one she'd seen about six times a day for a fortnight. "It was time to move out, anyway. You're getting married in a month."
"A month and one day," he reminded her.
"The countdown begins."
"You have no idea," he said, looking weary. "Charlotte got in a spat with her mum last night about the bridesmaids dresses being too frilly. Her mum was the one who picked them."
"Sounds like a You problem," Rose replied, grinning at him. Until she moved out, she'd been dealing with his fiancée's wedding issues as equally as Albus, but now that she was out, she was glad to have put some distance in between herself and all the wedding drama.
"Just wait until your wedding," he countered moodily.
"I'm probably never getting married," Rose said cheerily. She could sense the falseness in her voice, but Albus probably couldn't. He could be a bit thick. "I'm telling you. I'm turning over a new leaf with all of this."
He snorted. "I've heard enough about your newfound independence."
"It's true!"
"You're twenty-four, not eighteen."
"Whatever," she said, ignoring the sting. "I'm done dating these idiots. I'm going to reinvent myself. I'm going to be a career woman."
Albus looked around her bedroom pointedly. "Well, you're certainly not a minimalist."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
He didn't see her expression, eyes dipping to his wristwatch. "I'm going to grab some lunch before work. Want to come?"
"Yeah, I'll just change."
"I'll ask your brother if he wants to come."
As Albus went to the kitchen to talk to Hugo, closing the door behind him, Rose heaved one of her bigger suitcases to the floor, dropping to her knees to open it. She grabbed a neatly folded blue dress, her favourite one, and quickly changed out of her sweaty clothes.
She hadn't worn anything other than dresses or skirts since Albus' brother James told her she was 'one of the boys' back when she was fourteen. Over the years, she found the dresses could actually get her out of a bad mood, just by the feel of confidence in them. They felt like her superpower.
Oh, and magic was great too.
"Hey, Rose?" Hugo said from the other side of the door, knocking on it. "I accidentally broke all your cups. Are you good at Reparo?"
She rolled her eyes, darting around the boxes to open the door. Her brother, at least half a foot taller than her with freckles and bright red mop, looked sheepishly down at her. "It wasn't my fault."
"Hugo, did you even try?" she asked, trying not to laugh.
"I did enough damage," he advised.
"It's a first-year spell."
"I never claimed to be good at Charms."
"I swear to Merlin," she muttered, pushing past him to inspect her new kitchen. She was confronted with chips of her favourite teacups all over the floor, as well as a lot of glass. Albus was muttering under his breath as her good wine glasses repaired themselves, but they had lost their original shine.
"So, lunch?" Hugo suggested, sounding unconcerned.
Rose conceded, resolving to fix up her own flat afterwards. "It's a good thing you're good at Quidditch, Hugo."
"I resent that!" he called, halfway out the front door. She exchanged looks with Albus, who only shrugged before following him.
At least they tried.
It was the First Day of the Rest of her Life, and Rose was beginning to admit that she was fully fed up with it.
She managed to set up her flat after lunch. It had required a fair bit of power, but magic was definitely the way to go. She cleaned up the soot from the Floo guy, fixed up the kitchen that Hugo had made a mess of, unpacked all her boxes and gotten her clothes hung up in her closet. The only thing left was putting up her bedsheets and making her bed, which she wanted to do the Muggle way. She was just sentimental like that.
Rose barely got any time to have her third coffee of the day before she Apparating to Diagon Alley. She got to Madame Malkin's just in time to see Roxanne, her cousin and closest friend, enter the shop. Rose took a moment before going in, fingering the pockets of her dress and taking a deep breath.
She could be honest with herself. She was jealous.
Although Rose hadn't had a proper relationship – ever, really – she could admit that she had been a closet romantic for most of her life. Sure, she loved Quidditch and roughhousing with her cousins and brother, but she always thought she would find a relationship that would tie her stomach in knots. She thought she would be married by then.
But for some reason or another, it hadn't happened for her. She knew she had loads of time, but it didn't always feel like it; Albus was, of course, marrying Charlotte Jones, Roxanne was in a long-term relationship for the last two years and her other friends – Ella Longbottom and Skye Thomas – were seeing people.
So why not her?
You're not any lesser for not being in a relationship, Rose reminded herself, squaring her shoulders. Besides, it wasn't as though her past relationships were anything special. She'd been at the same reception job since Hogwarts – it was time to focus on herself.
She practically marched into the shop, making her way to the back where Madame Malkin kept the wedding dress robes. Everyone else besides Charlotte was already there, sitting in the middle of the room on a large purple ottoman and sipping champagne like it was a scene out of some goddamn wedding film.
"Rose!" Roxanne lit up at the sight of her, which instantly made her feel considerably better. As she sat beside her at the end of the couch, Roxanne passed her a glass of golden champagne from a tray floating nearby. "You're just in time. Charlotte is trying on her wedding dress."
"Ooh," Rose said, taking a sip of champagne and genuinely perking up. Okay, so maybe she loved those goddamn wedding films. "It looked amazing all those months ago."
"Then we get to try our dresses," Ella said from beside Roxanne. There was a very wide, sarcastic smile on her round face, framed by her waist-long blonde hair. "Last night –"
"Yeah, I heard there was some drama with her mum," I said, grimacing.
"You don't know the half of it," Skye called over from the other side of the sofa. She wiggled her empty glass and the champagne bottle magically floated over to her and poured, refilling her glass. "I was up half the night talking to Charlotte. I think the stress is getting to her."
Rose kept quiet, sipping her drink slowly. She hadn't seen what happened, but she knew Albus and Charlotte had been arguing with her mother for a while before coming back to the flat. Rose had been packing and chosen not to interrupt them.
It was a good couple of hours that he was consoling Charlotte – her mother could get quite nasty, by the sound of it – before she dried her eyes, ate some of the dinner he'd cooked her and decided to talk to Skye about it all. After she left, she found Albus asleep on the couch from exhaustion, leaving Rose to pack by herself.
Men.
But to be fair, Charlotte was a bit of a crier.
"Charlotte's mum has been a little difficult over the whole thing," Ella put in kindly.
Roxanne snorted loudly. "That is literally the biggest understatement of the year. She's been a nightmare. Why does every little thing about the wedding have to be perfect?"
"Everyone's got their input," Skye said, her voice flat.
"Albus has become pretty drained over everything," Rose said in a hushed voice so Charlotte wouldn't hear from the dressing room. "He told me a couple of nights ago that if he hadn't put down all those deposits, he'd be dragging her to the courtroom."
"That's what the deposits are for," Ella said, and they all laughed.
"What are we laughing at?"
All of them couldn't help but go quiet as they saw Charlotte come out from behind the curtain. They'd all seen it months ago, when she picked the dress, but now it really did fit perfectly. It was sleek and form fitting at the top, lacy with a delicate floral pattern, then flaring out below the waist. The floral pattern continued down her dress, sheer at the trail.
It was so artistic, imaginative… so Charlotte.
"Amazing," Ella said admiringly, speaking first.
"Is that the same dress?" Skye asked, grinning at Charlotte. "Looks even better than before."
"Incredible," Roxanne put in, shaking her head. "I said it before and I'll say it again – I approve."
They all looked to Rose.
She tried not to smile too widely at the thought, but failed. "Al is going to lose his shit."
They laughed, but knew it was true. Albus had pined over Charlotte for a good year before he asked her out at Graduation. And by asking out, that meant that he found her after the ceremony and snogged the living daylights out of her.
Charlotte and Ella were in Hufflepuff while the rest of them were in Gryffindor. She'd known them a little bit from class, but got to know them better over the years that she and Albus dated. She and Ella, already friends in Hogwarts, fit in surprisingly well with their little friend group. Which was good, since Charlotte was constantly at Rose and Albus' flat over the years.
Thank Merlin they were good with Silencing charms.
Madame Malkin was observing Charlotte carefully as she stepped on a cushion in front of the mirror, allowing her to see the dress fall properly. A measuring tape was wrapping around her of its own accord, rapidly wrapping around her arms, around her waist and peeking through her curly hair down to the small of her back.
"Nearly there," she determined, mumbling various numbers to herself.
"Will you put your hair up?" Ella asked, getting up to see Charlotte in the mirror. "It might show off the back more."
"That's true," she said, turning to look at the jewelled plunging back of the dress. "Should I add sleeves?"
"Nah, it will be hot in August," Rose said, regretfully remembering her very sweaty moving process that morning.
"It's honestly perfect," Roxanne said confidently, raising her glass. "I can't wait for your wedding."
Charlotte blushed as they toasted her.
A few minutes later, they were all changing into the pink bridesmaid dresses, the measurement tape working on them as they pinched and pulled, trying to get comfortable. The dresses were rather frilly, with this strange bunching around the thighs that made Rose's already too-thick thighs look even thicker.
But the worst part was that this particular shade of pink did not seem to agree with her dark red hair. She hadn't been there when they picked the bridesmaid dress robes – she'd had to work late – and clearly Charlotte's mother had never seen Rose's hair when she picked the dresses. Of course, with Charlotte, Roxanne and Skye's various shades of brown hair and Ella's blonde, it never seemed to come up.
The others gathered around Rose. Roxanne gently adjusted Rose's hair, smoothing out the frizzy ends against the pink fabric. There was no way around it – it clashed horribly.
"Hmm…" Roxanne hummed, biting her lip before looking to Charlotte.
"Madame?" she asked, calling her over. "Would it be possible to dye the dresses at this point?"
Rose swore that Madame Malkin's eyes widened in disbelief before settling back to their usual, indifferent expression. "I suppose a paler pink would be more suitable?"
"Yes," Charlotte said, shoulders sagging. "My mum's going to kill me, but yes."
As the other girls and Madame Malkin discussed the logistics, Rose felt Roxanne reach around her shoulders and give her a squeeze. "Come on, Rose. It's not so bad."
"Maybe I should dye my hair," she said, only half-joking.
"It looks great on you otherwise," Roxanne began, but Rose shook her head, working her way back to the dressing room, trying not to trip.
She'd always been a little self-conscious of her body, especially with so many male cousins always openly speaking about female bodies. In school, with all the Quidditch training she'd had to do, she'd been thin and fast. Without the exercise post-graduation, she'd filled out a little more, but not in the way that she would have liked. She found herself sucking in her belly as she looked at the mirror in the dressing room before giving up and changing back into her normal clothes.
As the rest of the girls changed out of their dresses, Rose berated herself. She wasn't that bad. She liked that her breasts were bigger than they'd been at fourteen. Bigger thighs and butts were sort of fashionable, right? Her skin was clear, she didn't mind the freckles and she liked her hair, despite it all.
It had just been a long day.
It was half past nine before Rose reached her apartment. After the fitting, she and her friends had spent the evening at the Leaky Cauldron, sharing stories over dinner. One great thing about the wedding was that it brought all her friends together more than they would normally see each other.
She'd stayed far too long, feeling happy and sleepy until she realized she needed to walk home. Her Floo wasn't working and they'd put a Silencing charm that morning to Apparate in and out for moving, but she was sure that charm had worn off. The loud crack from the Apparating was sure to shock her Muggle neighbours.
For the first time, she cursed herself for living in a Muggle building.
Rose made her way up the stairs to the third floor, feeling dead on her feet. She found herself repeating the number in her head – number thirty-five – until she reached her floor and made her way down the hallway until she saw the golden '35' nailed on the mahogany door. She'd put her key in the lock and was twisting when she heard a voice behind her.
"Weasley?"
She turned around at the unfamiliar voice, but as she discovered, not an unfamiliar face. Standing there, bag slung around his shoulder, dressed in a pristine white lab coat and keys in hand, was Scorpius Malfoy.
"Malfoy," she said in astonishment. Malfoy lived in a Muggle building?
"You live here?" he asked, gesturing to her key.
"I just moved in today."
"Oh." He jerked his head towards the door with '31' in the same large, golden plating.
The first thing Rose noticed that his hair had faded from the striking blonde hair, almost white during school, to a somewhat sandy blonde. Secondly, he had somewhat dorky-looking spectacles at Hogwarts that he switched out for black, thick-rimmed glasses. Still nerdy, but in an attractive way.
She didn't really know him personally, besides from class. Her father warned against getting close to Malfoy in her first year, but she barely interacted with him. He'd always been quiet in classes, always around the same few people in Slytherin.
"You look great," he said, surprising her again. She felt her cheeks redden.
"Same to you," she replied, flustered. "Have you lived here long?"
"Yeah, about three years."
"How do you like it?"
"It's all right…" He shifted from one foot to another. "I've actually just come from work and haven't had supper yet…"
"Oh! I'm sorry," she said hurriedly, turning away. "Don't let me keep you."
"See you around," he said kindly. She offered a smile and wave before letting herself into her flat and shutting the door behind her.
Wild, she thought, throwing her keys back in her purse. Malfoy lived in her Muggle building – a family with a reputation for hating Muggles. Who would've thought?
As she changed, brushed her teeth in an unfamiliar bathroom and collapsed on her still-unmade mattress, she felt the weight of the day sinking in. She'd always lived with her family, then her Hogwarts dorm mates, then Albus – she'd never been alone. She thought she'd be married by now, but she couldn't even talk to Scorpius Malfoy without tripping on her words. Perhaps it was just the tiredness talking, but she'd never felt so alone in her life.
Maybe she didn't have everything under control.
Sighing, Rose heaved herself up and picked up her bedsheets, duvet and pillow to make her bed. She told herself that this was just the transition phase. She was going to make her bed with her bare hands, go to work the next day and her new place would feel home in no time.
Rose faced the First Day of the Rest of her Life. She wanted to embrace the new independence. She wanted to be a better Rose, and this is what she needed. It was okay if it was a little lonely.
At least, that's what she was hoping.
A/N: Hey there, hope you like the first chapter of this new story. It's a little different than the last one, but I promise you it mainly stays lighthearted. Also, this is my first story with more mature themes, so please keep that in mind!
Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think so far! :)