Chapter Four

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        Rose couldn't remember the last time she was this excited for the Hogsmeade trip.  It felt like she hadn't spent significant time with her family in a long time, even though she saw them every day. 

        She was wrapped up in her favourite grey jumper, black puffer jacket, worn blue jeans and knitted grey bobble-hat.  Of course, Rose had stuffed her fluffy polka-dot sock-clad feet into her old white trainers.  Her trademark socks went with everything — or so she convinced herself. 

        Al was walking on her right; James on her left.  Hugo was up ahead with his small group of friends.  Rose had seen Lily earlier at breakfast, but the younger girl was most likely — definitely — with Lorcan. 

        The two boys were teasing Rose about the smile she'd received from a shy Hufflepuff — a younger boy she regretted to admit she didn't know the name of — as they were leaving the castle grounds.

        "Maybe you should ask him on a date," James mused.  There was a mischievous smirk on his face.  He thrived off of Rose's reactions, which was the exact reason why she was trying to school her expression into indifference. 

        "I'm not interested in anything like that yet," she said instead.  That was a lie.  Of course she was interested — she just hadn't found a boy she was interested in.

        Albus snickered next to her.  "James is right, Rosie.  A date would be good for you — who better than a Hufflepuff?"

        "Plus," her older cousin chimed in, his tone ringing with the laughter he was restraining.  "You might as well go for that kid — you don't seen any other guys lining up to take you out, do you?"

        Rose scowled.  That comment hit home, whether either of the boys knew that or not.  "Wow.  Thanks James."

        Rose knew she wasn't the prettiest girl in Hogwarts — against her better judgement, she'd have to admit that Serena Thomas was most definitely beautiful.  Serena, despite her ugly personality, was the type of girl that the boys here at Hogwarts pined after.  Not Rose.  Never Rose.

         But she wasn't one to dwell on that fact.  She knew there would be someone, eventually — why did it have to be now?

         However, there was a part of her that wished boys took more notice of her — and for reasons other than her being Ron and Hermione Weasley's daughter.  Sometimes she even found herself staring at her reflection, wishing her eyes were a little rounder and brighter, her nose a little smaller, her cheekbones higher and more defined.  She longed for her red curly locks to be less frizzy, for her freckles to be lighter, her skin tanned. 

         Rose could pick out an endless list of things that she would change about herself — but, in the end, none of that mattered.  She couldn't change it.  No matter how much she wished she could.

         James seemed to notice that he'd hit a nerve.  Al certainly had, for he'd fallen silent as soon as he caught the hurt that had flashed momentarily across Rose's face.  "You know I didn't mean it like that, Rosie," the older boy said, brushing his unruly brown hair out of his eyes. 

         Rose shook her head and smiled slightly.  "No, it's okay," she said, although her tone spoke otherwise.  "I know what you meant."

         Behind her back, the two brothers shared a look of apprehension as she sped up ever-so-slightly.  Rose couldn't help that she felt so down after being reminded that she was as unappealing as a Mandrake. 

         In effort to divert the topic, Albus and James struck up a conversation about James' plans after this year.  Rose stayed silent for the most part, just listening and taking in the information. 

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