The Little Flower (Remus Lupin) ✓

t w o*

No one dared to talk as their journey to Hogwarts continued. All of them avoided eye contact. Rosalie found herself staring out of the window, watching the world go past. The Dementor had left long ago, but her hairs still stood on end, as if it was still lingering. She felt cold and numb, and the colour had yet to return to her face. She wished her brain would think of something other than the scream of her dying mother, it repeated in her head like a broken record player, and every time she felt herself fall more into a pit of darkness.

"I'm going to get change," Hermione mumbled as she stood, "you should as well, we will be arriving at Hogwarts soon." Ron, Harry and Hermione finally made eye contact; all of them looked as though they were empty. Neither of the boys spoke as they nodded, picking up their stuff and making their way down the train.

"Are you coming, Rosalie?" Hermione pulled Rosalie from her deep thought.

"Mhm," she blinked dumbly up at Hermione.

"Are you coming?"

"Uh, yeah, I'll be there in a minute," Rosalie tried to give a gentle smile, though it turned into a grimace. Hermione was battling in her head whether to press the matter or to leave her friend be, her finger tapped on the door frame for a moment before giving a slight nod and walking away, leaving Rosalie alone in the carriage.

Rosalie's eyes fell to her feet; she leaned forward, knees on her thighs and head in her hands. It was the first day, and trouble had already found her. During the summer, she wished that she could have a quiet year at Hogwarts, but things never turned out how she wanted. Something always seemed to happen to the Potter siblings, and truthfully she was fed up, she did not want it anymore. All she wanted to do was learn; she still struggled to control her magic at the age of sixteen, and everyone thought she was pathetic because of it. People considered her a freak in the world of magic just because she was a little different; she had something that no one understood. She realised that most likely scared other students, but she did not know why they would say such horrible comments towards her.

The horn of the train filled the emptiness. Rosalie pushed her fingers through her hair before sitting up straight. She had no time to ponder any more thoughts; Hogwarts was only a few minutes away, and she was still not dressed. She forced herself to her feet and dragged them out of the carriage and through the train. She walked past many other students, who seemed rather lively despite the earlier event. It made her wonder if the Dementor entered any other carriages, or were Rosalie and her friends the only ones who experienced the feeling of dread and death.

Rosalie kept her eyes down, avoiding contact with anyone she passed, though she could feel their stares and hear their whisperings. She shook her head and pushed forward, quickly entering the changing room and changing into her school clothes.

Knock Knock

"If anyone is in there, you need to hurry up the train has stopped," a person, whose voice Rosalie did not recognise said.

"Uh - Thank you," she replied. Her eyes scanned the small room to check she had everything, and she glanced at the mirror, the Gryffindor Symbol catching her eye.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve and chivalry,

Set Gryffindors apart.

It was the song the sorting hat sang the first day she arrived at Hogwarts; often it played in her mind, it made her happy, thinking back to when it was easier. When she did not know the pain of failure as she did now, not to feel useless or inadequate because she could not control simple magic.