• • •
be my mistake,
and turn out the light
• • •
Rose's head felt heavy; well, that probably was an understatement, she felt like her head was about to burst like a firework. Quietly, and groaning, she shifted her body to the right side, sighing in relief at the warmth her bed provided her. She reached down to her waist, pulling the sheet closer to her face, a familiar scent filling her nostrils. Rose turned on her left side, fully covered by the duvet, the scent grew more prominent, making her smile as she nuzzled comfortably on a soft and warm surface.
Rose's eyebrows furrowed, causing her eyes to flutter open as something in her head seemed to explode from the light entering the room. Her head began to register the room she was in; there were four poster beds and a desk. She recognised the room, it was the Gryffindor's dormitories, but it was not hers'. Rose's head jerked back, removing herself from the soft surface she was laying over. Only then did she realise it was an arm. A well-toned arm, tanned, packed with muscles and covered in freckles, moving with every breath it's owner took, making Rose's mind to go in slow motion. Her eyes traveled further up the arm, afraid of what she might find.
A freckled shoulder blended into a sunburnt neck, and red untidy hair sprouted there. Rose's heart skipped a beat, her eyes turning orange with nerves. The ginger's face was turned away from her, but she did not have to see it to know who it was, when she took a peak into his face, she knew for sure. It was non other than Fred Weasley. Rose did not know if it was because of the hangover, or because of what she might've done the night before, but she felt as if she would be painfully sick.
"Shit," she muttered under her breath, burying her head in her hands. The sheets moved aside when her arms did, revealing her naked body under. "Fuck."
Her heart started beating loudly inside her body as she turned her head towards Fred, shutting her eyes, images came back. Images of Fred, of the party, of them dancing and drinking. His hips moving up against hers, and then his lips pressed against hers.
Rose shook her head to make the memories stop, but Fred was taking off her dress as his tongue traveled down her neck. A million thoughts ran through her head; Should she wake him up? Should she leave? How the fuck did she end up in that situation?
However, two of her questions were answered on their own as she heard Fred groan besides her. She turned her head to him, pulling the sheets to cover her chest, not a second later, Fred opened his eyes. Confused at first, but as soon as his eyes connected to Rose, he looked as if he was shocked by lightning.
"Did we?" Fred whispered, terrified, shooting a look at Rose. She nodded, not looking at him. "Bloody hell."
"Fred," Rose mumbled in a warning tone, Fred now had his head in hands. "No one can find out. Not even George."
Fred's head snapped towards her, analysing quietly what she had just said. Slowly, he nodded. "You're right," he agreed, his eyes traveling everywhere in the room except for her.
"Where is everyone?" Rose wondered aloud, breaking the silence they had fallen into.
Fred looked up, confused, "I don't know," he answered.
"You don't reckon they saw us," Rose asked in panic, "do you?"
Fred stared at her in fright, but his voice was calm and collected, "No, of course not, they would've said something."
"Right," Rose nodded, massaging her head with her fingers she stood from the bed with the duvet wrapped around her naked body. "I should go back to my dorm, I don't want the train to leave without me."
"Of course," Fred said instantly. "Take one of my jumpers so you won't go, you know..."
"Thanks," she mumbled, taking one of Fred's jumpers and a pair of trousers from his trunk, grabbing her knickers from the floor and hurrying off to the bathroom. She changed as fast as she could, tying her hair at the bottom of her head. She left the bathroom, leaving the duvet over Fred's bed.
"I'll see you after the holidays," said Fred, covering up with all the sheets in his bed.
"Sure," Rose answered awkwardly, debating whether to hug him goodbye or leave. "Happy Christmas, Fred."
"Happy Christmas, Ro," Fred said, going in for a hug but Rose stupidly put out her hand, initiating a very odd hand shake. Fred was about to speak, but Rose didn't give him the chance, instead, she fled the room as fast as she could.
Finally, and not for the first time, she felt the famous walk of shame her friends had told her about. This time, it didn't feel like a million people were waiting for her to trip, now it felt like she was walking into a quiet corridor, and there was no end. As if she had to be silent, because if someone heard, the shame of her walking at seven in morning with someone else's clothes on her, with her dress and heels in hand, would be worse than death.
She begged for her dorm-mates to be asleep, or better yet, for them to have woken up in someone else's dorm so they wouldn't notice her absence. She pushed the door of her dorm open, breathing in relief as she found the girls sleeping in their beds. She tiptoed quietly, soundlessly changing into her own pyjamas and laying in her bed, messing it up so it would look slept in. Not five minutes after Rose had laid down, the girls began to wake up. Rose stayed with her duvet covering her face, forcing her eyes to close but opening them again as the memories of last night kept flooding her brain.
"What time is it?" Rose heard Amara asked, pain in her voice.
"Ten to eight," Angelina groaned in response. "Train leaves in forty minutes."
"Blimey, I've got to wake up Rose," said Amara, and Rose could imagine she was rubbing her face with her hands.
"Be quiet," Alicia begged from her own bed. "Some of us have a hangover."
Rose heard footsteps approaching her bed, soon enough, her body was shaken awake as Amara whispered, "Rose, wake up."
"Morning," Rose mumbled, taking the duvet off her face and faking a yawn. "How'd you sleep?"
"Horribly," Amara said, pulling a face. "Come on, we've got to get ready or else we'll be late."
"I'll fetch us something to eat from the common room whilst you get in the shower," Rose said, standing from her bed and pulling her jumper over her head.
"You're a life saviour," smiled Amara kindly, fetching her clothes and hurrying off to the bathroom.
"Get me a hangover potion, yeah?" Angelina called at Rose.
"We're out!" Rose called back, sniggering lightly as she walked down the stairs.
• • •
All dressed up and trunks packed, Amara and Rose walked down to their common room with two mugs filled with tea and a croissant in their hands. Amara had shades over her eyes, covering up the black bags under that the brunette couldn't hide away with make up. Rose wore a heavy jumper and several layers of make up, succeeding in hiding the guilt written all over her face.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting over at the couch, whispering about something that Rose couldn't catch. As Amara went to refill her mug, Rose communicated that she would say goodbye to her brother.
"Alright, baby brother?" Rose greeted, taking a seat besides him. Harry's eyes narrowed to slits, but went back to care-free green eyes in a second. Rose hadn't formally apologised to Harry for their fight, but they were siblings, which is why in that moment it was all forgiven. "I'm leaving to London today, you sure you don't wanna come?"
"Nope," Harry answered, smiling at his sister and then at his two best friends. "I'm alright here."
"Well, in that case, Happy Christmas, Harry," Rose said, hugging her brother closely. "Write to me if you change your mind."
"I won't," Harry shrugged, tearing apart from his sister and receiving a glare. "But thank you. Happy Christmas, Ro."
"Bye bye, Ronnie," Rose smiled, leaning down to hug Ron. "Take care."
"You too," Ron said, kissing Rose's cheek.
"Have a nice holiday, Hermione," said Rose as she stood from the couch. Hermione nodded her head at Rose, smiling at her and wishing her a nice holiday as well.
"Are you not saying goodbye to the twins?" Amara asked once Rose caught up with her.
"They're probably still asleep," Rose said, wondering were George and Lee were since they weren't in their own dorms.
"Won't they be upset when they wake up?" Amara wondered innocently.
"I'll send them a letter," Rose shrugged, eager to leave the common room.
"Alright then," said Amara. "Let's go."
The ride back to London was a long one, or at least to Rose. Unknown to her, Avalon Morgenstern and Adrian Pucey had joined the Gryffindors last night, meaning that the compartment was filled with four heavily hungover teenagers.
"At what time did you get there, anyway?" Amara asked her brother, who was pressing his head against the window, debating whether he should open it to vomit.
"Around eleven," Adrian mumbled sleepily, he was thrown over the seats, his feet over Avalon's lap. "You were tripping everywhere and Rose was talking nonsense."
"I don't remember any of that," Rose groaned, putting her head out the window to breath fresh air.
"That's to be expected," Avalon whined, chugging a bottle of water. "I drank five shots of firewhisky with you and you were drowning them like water."
Rose laughed, putting her head back in the compartment and laying her head over Amara's lap.
"You also drank half a bottle of Darcy's firewhisky," Adrian recalled. "That shit's strong."
"Bloody hell, Rose, how are you still alive?" Amara snorted, looking down at her cousin.
"You're one to say," Adrian huffed, clearly entertained. "You drank the other half."