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CHAPTER SEVEN ❝immorality❞
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THE SMELL OF CHRISTMAS CAME TO LIFE AS ROSALIE SAT IN THE LIVING ROOM WITH THE CUT TREE COVERED IN DECORATIONS AND LIGHTS. She sat on the couch with a book in her lap, the only entertainment in the house as her uncle lacked having a muggle TV, and she flipped through the pages as she sought to pass the time.
There was nothing for her to be doing, as there was during school. She had no classwork to complete, no extra credit projects she could take on, and there was nothing she could do in pursuit to seeing the end of her mission while at home for the holidays. There was no way to transport the Vanishing Cabinet to her uncle's place and Kingsley lacked any books that would contain any knowledge of cursed items or elixirs to stir up that would end someone's life.
So she resigned herself to reading the books she had seen on his bookshelves that she had yet to touch, waiting until he got home and they could have a conversation. She had nowhere to go, no one to see, and no friends to look forward to correspondence with. It was lonely and sad sometimes to think about, to realize that no one would care if she disappeared, no one to go looking for her, but it also helped her move forward.
There were no one asking questions, no one pointing fingers at her and telling her that she had changed in the past year and a half, because no one knew her. For all they knew, this is how she had been forever. No one would ever look close enough, or long enough, to have known that her behavior had changed. Even her professors hadn't noticed.
So there was no one to feel guilty for, no one to disappoint, and that helped her go on with this. Even if Draco looked at her as if she were a monster since she chose this, made the wrong choice when she had the option never to become a part of this while he had it thrown upon with no hope for another life. For a better one without a forever association with a dark movement.
He was born into this while she had chosen it for her own glory. It was so terribly selfish but it was too late to turn back. There was nothing she could do now but go forward and walk down this path. Now, what she did was for self-preservation. That and for her glory, because she had to gain it. It had to be there at the end of the rainbow, that pot of gold just for her. It had to be.
But even though she longed for it, in the moment it was not in sight. What was, though, was the possibility of failure and death. So she continued with her task to save her life so that she could one day see that pot of gold with her name on it. People would praise her, people would forever remember her name.
That was all she wanted.
She could endure everything else, she could go through with murder, with guilt, if it meant that she would be remembered forever. People would know Rosalie Allen and she would go down in history, people would learn about her in school and she would be renowned in the wizarding world. That was all she ever wanted really.
