𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝗼 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝗼𝐰; Harry Potter

chapter twenty five

It looked like the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship. Each was so angry with the other that Harry and Rose couldn't see how they'd ever make up.

Ron was enraged that Hermione had never taken Crookshank's attempts to eat Scrabbers seriously, hadn't bothered to keep a close enough watch on him, and was still trying to pretend that Crookshanks was innocent by suggesting that Ron look for Scabbers under all the boys' beds. Hermione, meanwhile, maintained fiercely that Ron had no proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scrabbers, that the ginger hairs might have been there since Christmas, and that Ron had been prejudiced against her cat ever since Crookshanks had landed on Ron's head in the Magical Menagerie.

Personally Harry was sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scrabbers, and when he tried to point out to Hermione that the evidence all pointed that way, she lost her temper with Harry too.

"Okay, side with Ron, i knew you would!" she said shrilly. "First the Firebolt, now Scrabbers, everythings my fault, isn't it! Just leave me alone, i've got a lot of work to do!"

Rose put her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Don't worry Hermione, i believe you one hundred percent. Like i said before, I've never likes rats. Nasty creatures."

Ron had taken the loss of his rat very hard indeed.

"Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," said Fred bracingly. "And he's been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly—one swallow—he probably didn't feel a thing."

"Fred!" said Ginny indignantly.

"All he did was eat and sleep, Ron, you said it yourself." said George.

"He bit Goyle for us once!" Ron said miserably. "Remember, Harry?"

"Yeah, that's true," said Harry.

"His finest hour," said Fred, unable to keep a straight face. "Let the scar on Goyles finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ron, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat, whats the point of moaning?"

—-

Rose was now in the Slytherin common room while Harry was at his final Quidditch match and Ron was watching from the stands. Rose was sitting on the couch staring into the fire, reflecting on her life choices.

"Hey.."

Rose turned her head quickly as if waiting for an attack but it was just Malfoy. Her face turned into a glare.

"What the hell do you want?" She asked, looking back to the fire.

He tried to joke. "I was just going to sit with my cousin, can i not do that anymore?"

"No."

He scoffed, looking into the fire as well.

After a silence he tried to start conversation again. "So you—you're like.. gay?"

Rose squeezed her eyes shut and sighed, "Why."

"I don't know, i just wanted confirmation." He defended. "So, are you?"

"Oh my god— yes."

"Oh."

Another very thick silence followed this.

"Thats—thats cool?"

She turned her head to him with furrowed eyebrows, "Huh?"

"I'm just trying to be nice about it!"

"You? Being nice? A likely story."

He rolled his eyes, "Fine i just wanted to say thanks for putting Pansy in a coma."