The perfect Slytherin was hard to find. Everyone had their own notions about what being a true Slytherin required. Some would suggest a pureblood with pride, whereas others would give it to the one whose future shone brighter than their peers. Gryff...
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People judge too quickly, and our feelings they just forgot.
⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱
It was late morning when a platform that shouldn't exist, filled with people. Entire families were surrounding one or two kids, all carrying trunks, bags and cages. They varied in age, the children. But none, boarding the train. were younger than eleven, nor older than eighteen. They were saying goodbye to their parents, their siblings, often tearful goodbyes as the next opportunity to meet would not be for months. They could write to each other, of course, but this hardly seems to console the mothers who were kissing their children goodbye, tears streaming down their faces.
Rosaline's own mother wasn't a very emotional witch. She was to-the-point and efficient in everything she did, including saying goodbye to her only offspring. Joy Rosier had never been the affectionate type, putting reason above emotion, and verbal consolation over physical hugs. She was a part of the upper-class of wizarding society, finding pride and honour to be worth more, than most other things. However, she was not unkind. She had faith in her daughter, even before anyone else did and found her satisfaction with her life more important than the ability to gloat to other mothers.
Joy was both the ideal type of upper-class wife, and the worst. She lacked traditional feminine traits and could hardly be seen as "The angel of the house" like so many other Pureblood mothers strived to be. Joy Rosier was a passionate woman with ambitions and dreams and a mind clever enough to make them a reality. She was a workaholic, earning more than her husband did. Even though his salary, too, was never insignificant. She enjoyed working, more than she perhaps enjoyed anything else. However, she did adore Rosaline.
Rosaline had been a bit of an accident. Her parents were "business-over-pleasure" kind of people. They figured that wasn't the ideal household to raise a child in. They had spent most of their lives together, never intending to it being anybody but the two of them.
The second reason why they had been reluctant about the idea of having children, was because of her father's background. Felix Rosier was part of a pure-blooded family tree that originated from France and which seemed to have come over to England at the same time as William the Conqueror. His family's background was rich with both good and evil. However, his blood had always seemed more attracted to the Dark, then the light. His mother, Vinda Rosier, had been a loyal and devoted follower and acolyte of Gellert Grindelwald. Around the time of Felix's birth, she was Grindelwald's lieutenant and most trusted confidant.
He never knew who his father was, Vinda had never said a word on the issue of his paternity, which leads him to suspect, all though he would never admit so out loud, that he might have been fathered by Grindelwald himself. He took after him, too. A tall, handsome man with a merry face and golden blonde hair.
