luck
/lʌk/
Learn to pronounce
noun
success or failure apparently brought by chance rather than through one's own actions.
magic
/ˈmadʒɪk/
noun
the power of apparently influencing events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.
"suddenly, as if by...
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When they finally had gotten back the two were greeted by Dumbledore, his eyes ablaze. "What have you both done?" Dumbledore questioned.
"Well sir, I couldn't let my godfather be killed for a crime he did not commit." Rosalie stated innocently.
"And I could not let my best friend die and rot away, not again." Remus responded. The two looked to each other, smiled and left the office with grins on their faces.
And when the new day dawned, tiny smirks gleamed onto their faces seeing the front page of the Prophet the next day. 'Sirius Black cleared of all charges.'
And a laugh so evil left her lips as she saw Pettigrew's whimpering face as he was given his charges. And sentenced to the Dementors, to be kissed.
He will be dead the next day.
Fred and George smiled gleefully and hugged Rosalie. "That's our girl." They whispered. The necklace warmed as Tom Riddle agreed with her two best friends. He was extremely proud of his little witch. His future Dark Lady. As they whispered more and making their way inside the Great Hall where Ronald stands amid a circle of excited Gryffindor's.
"Stand back, I said! I'll take it upstairs if you don't settle!" Ronald shouts aloud.
Rosalie looks to the twins who shrug. Rosalie clears her throat loudly. The others turn and begin all speaking at once.
"Rosalie! Wherever did you get it!" Neville called out.
"Can I have a go, Rosalie? After you, of course..." Seamus starts before being cut off by Ronald.
"Quiet!" Ronald cried out and everyone silence. "Thank you. Let her through."
Confused, Rosalie steps forward, the boys peeling away, clearing her view of the broomstick Ronald's hands. The label gleams: "FIREBOLT."
"Whose is that?" Rosalie questions with a raised eyebrow.
"Whose is it? It's yours, babe." Ronald says everyone chuckling while Rosalie's eyes harden.
"I am not your babe." Rosalie growled taking the broom from him. "Was there a letter?" She questioned.
"Uh yeah." Hermione states handing it to her. "No ones looked at it."
Rosalie sighs before opening it. And a soft smile goes across her face.
'Have fun pup!
Love Sirius and your Papa.'
A grin now rests on her face as Fred and George grin. Running outside the huge doors burst open and Rosalie, trailed by the others, exits with the Firebolt.
As she strides off, others join the assembly -- Hagrid, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle among them -- curious to see what the commotion is all about.
As Rosalie stops, an expectant hush hangs over the moment.
"Go on, Rosalie." Seamus says.
"Yeah. Let's see." Neville whispers eager.
Rosalie mounts the broom. Licks her finger and jabs it in the air. A few others do the same. Hagrid does the same. Crabbe and Goyle start to do the same when Malfoy slaps their hands down. Finally, Rosalie places her hand on the broom. Sets her grip. Takes a breath. And... Frowns.
"What's wrong?" Fred and George ask seeing the sad look in her eyes.
"I don't think it works. I think it's defective." Rosalie states. A collective groan. Dejected, many of the kids begin to drift toward the castle. Rosalie calls after. "Oh, come on now. It's just a broom."
Rosalie eyes soon light up. "Oh, Fred, George never trust a marauder!" Rosalie calls as she shoots into the air. "The fastest broom in the world." They hear her scream happily.
See for Rosalie it was never the game of Quidditch that made her happy. It was the freedom of touching the sky, feeling the wind rip through her hair. The freedom from all responsibilities.
That was the reason she loved to fly.
"Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return."
