"YOU EVER BEEN in a Hufflepuff dorm room before?"
"Once or twice, never really taken a good look though..."
"Do you like it? I try to keep it clean... and Finley loves to paint on the walls when she's bored, that's what the whole... color wall is from."
Oliver ran his fingers over the many paintings of flowers, stars, couples, and more on the wall with the bathroom door as Rosalie stood in the doorway.
"She's talented," he smiled, turning around to walk to Rosalies bed.
He noticed the many books stacked on the shelves besides her bed, and he pointed at them.
"Are these Muggle books?" He asked, placing his bag on the floor.
She shrugged, "A mixture..."
"Where'd you get them all? Hogsmeade?"
She bit her lip, moving to sit on her bed.
"George bought me most of them," she explained, making Oliver press his lips into a firm line.
He wasn't stupid.
He saw the way Rosalie became distant when George walked into the room, the way she looked at him in the corridors or at lunch.
He figured something must've been going on between the two at some point, and feelings were still floating in the air.
But he didn't mind as long as she wasn't using him to get over those feelings, because then he was afraid someone would get hurt.
"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" Oliver suddenly asked, standing between her legs and flirtatiously running his hands down her arms.
She giggled, letting Oliver lean her back on the bed and crawl on top of her as he began kissing her lips.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his brown hair as his tongue swept across her lips.
His hands went to her blouse, slowly unbuttoning it, making goosebumps rise on her skin as her heart began racing incredibly.
Her scars was all she was worrying about.
He flipped them over, pulling her blouse through her arms and throwing it to the ground. His hands found her hips in order to grind her against him, but she recoiled.
She pulled her lips off of his breathlessly, frowning as she scrambled to her feet.
"What? What's wrong?" Oliver asked, sitting up, just as breathless. "Did I do something?"
She crossed her arms over her stomach, trying her best to cover her scars.
"I-I've just never done this before... I-"
He smiled at her, "There's nothing to worry about, you're doing fine-"
"No, Ollie, you don't understand-"
"Look, I was inexperienced once too, trust me, it's not that scary. We can go slow-"
"Oliver-"
"Rosalie," he chuckled, standing up. "We don't have to do anything. But if we do, we'll go slow, I promise."
He placed his hands on her cheeks and pulled her back into him to kiss her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, pulling away.
"Oliver, I don't want to!" She pushed him off of her. "I don't want you to touch me right now!"
"Why not?" He asked, hurt.
She shrugged, looking down.
"Is it because I'm not him? Is that why?"
"Who?"
"George."
Rosie froze, "I don't know what you're talking about."
Oliver scoffed, "Please, Rosalie, I see the way you look at him! The way you won't even touch me when he's around, you completely lose interest in me when George Weasley walks into the room!"
"That's not true..."
"What is this thing between us?" Oliver suddenly asked, "Do you even want to be with me? Is that why you won't put a label on this, because you're just using me?"
"Using you? Oliver no-"
"You love him, I know you do-"
"Oliver, please! You don't understand!"
The door suddenly opened slowly, and George's head peeked through.
When he saw Rosalies bra on her chest, he covered his eyes with a deep blush.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything..."
"I was just leaving," Oliver huffed, grabbing his bag and heading towards the door.
George stepped aside as Rosalie followed him, "Oliver, please-"
"Figure yourself out, Rose, I've got more important things to worry about," Oliver stated, looking at George's red face and Rosalies pleading one before leaving the Hufflepuff dorms.
Rosalie stared sadly at the empty doorway before turning to George, looking up at him with tear filled eyes before falling into his open arms.
"What happened? You guys seemed so happy yesterday..." George whispered, closing the door and soothing her back in circles.
She didn't answer, but simply continued to cry against his warm sweater.
"Wait, did he react like that when he saw your scars?" George gasped, pulling away with his hands on her waist, looking down at her.
She shook her head, wiping away her tears quickly.
"I've just been... keeping things from him..." she muttered, not sure if she should tell George.
"Oh... what?"
She bit her lip, looking up at him as another tear fell from her eye.
She wasn't sure if he felt the same, she didn't want to make a fool out of herself if he didn't, so she just put a small smile on her face and came up with a lie.
"Nothing," she shook her head, pulling herself out of George's arms. "Trust me, it's nothing to worry about."
George nodded slowly, standing up straighter, and tearing his eyes away from Rosalie and her breasts.
She realized why he was blushing and looking away from her, and she quickly grabbed her shirt off the floor in order to cover herself up.
As she was buttoning the shirt, she asked, "What is it that you needed, George?"
He bit his lip, smiling as he sat on Finley's bed, "I just wanted to ask if you'd like to come to the Burrow for Christmas?"
Rose froze slightly, looking down at him with a shocked face and slightly shaking hands.
"Unless- u-unless you don't want to-"
"That would actually be really nice," she sighed, smiling as she flattened down her shirt. "My parents said I couldn't come home this year for Christmas, so I'm so glad you asked."
He smiled brightly, "Perfect, I already talked to my Mum, and she's really excited to meet you. Of course, you've already met my dad at Kings Cross, and he really likes you, in case you didn't know. Mum said you could take Charlie's old room if you wanted your own room, or you could stay with Ginny... She said you couldn't stay in my room, but you could always sneak in during the night..."
His sentences trailed off as Rosie sat beside him, wrapping her arm through his and resting her head on his chest.
"Wherever I stay, it'll be amazing," she whispered, "but for now, could we take a nap? You massage my head this time?"
George looked at her, "I'd love that..."
His heart was beating rapidly as they laid down on her bed, her head on his chest. She lightly scratched his back with her nails as his fingertips ran through the roots of her hair.
He would never get tired of their naps.
~~~