Show them that you're a Rosier.
Everyone has that phrase they remember being told by their parents (or whoever raised them for that matter)— the one they drilled into their head, whether it be good or bad.
It could be a reminder to be kind, or to sit up straight— anything of the matter really.
For Avelina Rosier, the phrase that was imprinted into her mind no matter how hard she tried to forget, was show them that you're a Rosier. When she closed her eyes she could hear the exact dictations and emphasize of her fathers voice bounding around as if she had heard it so many times, that like a parasite, his voice had wrapped around her brain cells, and wouldn't let them go.
It was the phrase she heard when she four playing with the other pureblood kids, and started crying when one of the boys pushed her down the stairs. It was the phrase that she was told when she was seven, about to attend her first pureblood ball, dressed to the nines in a fancy long gown.
And it was the phrase that was whispered into her ear, like the way a snake hissed at his prey, before she stepped onto Hogwarts express for the first time at eleven years old.
Perhaps if said by some, such a phrase would have a warm meaning; like telling your child to be proud of who they are, of where they came from. However, the way it was used by Calvus Rosier was that of double edged threat, he aimed right at his childrens chests.
Daring them to make a wrong move.
Waiting for the time they ever so slightly make a mistake, so he could dig the blade right into their hearts.
It wasn't merely the blood that ran through their veins— which was ironic since they valued the purity of such blood above all else— because truthfully they had no problem spilling each others blood, letting it bleed down into empty cracks and crevices— it was about being the sort of person who as the top.
The sort of person who looked down at those below them, and kicked them down when they got close
For to be a Rosier wasn't something you could be born into like a normal family. To be a Rosier was to be superior. It was to show the rest of the world that you were better— more cunning, more intelligent, more wealthy, more proud, more talented, more terrifying, more everything you could possibly be.
It was to be so cruel that the flowers wilted as you walked past.
To be so cunning that your friends never felt like they could relax in your presence.
To be so charming that no one could resist the way you smiled, or the sound of your voice hitting their ears.
To be so captivating that eyes followed you wherever you went.
And when needed, to be so utterly crazy that not even a conscience could hold you back from doing what needed to be done.
Avelina always seemed to struggled with this.
Despite the fact the Rosier blood that was deemed so superior rain through her veins, it never came natural to her, no matter how hard she tried.
When her father would try to make her do something cruel tears would shed down her little cheeks.
When he would try to get her to be cunning she'd burst with honesty.
And when he tried to get her to be crazy, all she would do was tilt her head and stare at him like a confused puppy.
Though the Rosier charm and captivation, the young girl arguably had down at a young age. From the moment she could form her first sentences, there was something about that girl that people seemed just to like.
It was the Rosier charm alright, the same charm that brought their family so much success, combined with their sickly cunning behaviour. Whether it was flashing her cute smile to her Uncle to get extra candy, or a plead to her nanny to let her stay up an hour past bedtime, everyone always said yes to the youngest Rosier.
She was adorable, that was undeniable, with round blue eyes that were as sweet as summer ponds, and rosy cheeks always swelling with happiness. Tumbles of golden curls falling down her back, and a disposition so sweet it was almost sickly.
Calvus never understood how he managed to have a daughter like that, especially when her twin brother couldn't have been more opposite.
Evan Rosier was about as charming as a brick wall was one a hot summer day, and about as captivating as a road killed rabbit festering under the sun. He looked like the type of guy people avoided on the street, with a sneer plastered on his face always, that made it look like he always was smelling something god awful.
From a very young age however, it was clear that he was where all the cruel, cunning and crazy Rosier genes had gone.
He was the twin who would come inside after they finished playing with a dead bunny in his hand, bragging to his father that he killed it with his bare hands.
He was also the twin that would talk his friends into doing anything he wanted. Like giving them their childhood pets to kill.
And yes— that's a true story.
Calvus never quite understood his children, nor did he ever wish too. He just wished they could be normal. Like the type of children who were both charming and cunning.
But no, he got stuck with one child who as a psychopath who couldn't even charm a bag of horse shit, and another who had the demeanour of a daisy and was about as scary as a rose.
Countless nights were spent pacing infront of his twins as they grew, trying to instill proper pureblood values into them.
"Evan put that mouse carcass down this moment— Avelina, stop with twirling!"
He sounded like a broken record the amount of times he told his children similar remarks. Always trying to get them to behave the way pureblood children ought to behave.
At least Evan's problems seemed somewhat fixable. A few etiquette classes and a good couple beatings would hopefully beat enough sanity into the boy so he wasn't complete lot cause.
Avelina though?
She would need a lot more help, if she one day was going to be a respectable Rosier. And so, well Evan was sent off to etiquette classes where he learnt to tie a tie, dance a proper waltz, eat dinner with a fork rather then his hands, Avelina had private lessons with Mr Rosier himself.
Her bottom glued to the wooden seat of the little desk her father had in his study for her and Evan. Blonde hair bobbled into two pigtails, as the eight year old stared at a furry little creature infront of her.
It was a bunny. Avelina's favourite animal, so much so that she often snuck out during the evening to watch them in the small meadow behind Rosier mansion.
"Do it Avelina," Mr Rosier gritted.
He was a young man to have two children of eight years old. He was only 32 himself, still young enough to have a youthful face he hide behind a beard. Though it was already greying, bad genetics or simple stress no one could tell. He was never seen in anything other then a perfect black armani suite, his blue eyes that matched Avelina's shining down on her.
Calvus always said he was raised the proper way. He was taught all the proper values of pureblood society and held them close to his heart. He liked to think he had done well by the Rosier name, but clearly his children didn't prove so.
The young girl didn't do anything, just gripped her little hands into fists and continued to stare at the creature like her father wasn't even there.
She could tell he was getting angry, and when he got angry nothing good happened. Though she couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd rather take the punishment then kill this innocent creature like her father so wanted her too.
"You're a disgrace Avelina!"
"Stop your whining and kill the darn thing!"
"Show me your worthy of the Rosier name!"
Click.
Something physically clicked into Avelina's little mind in that moment. Filling her with so much fury it was like she was holding back a damn of decades of pure rage, forged from the mountains of anger. Rage of those who came centuries before her, so much rage she couldn't possibly hold it in.
"Stop!" the little girl shrieked, standing up and pushing the chair back behind her.
Her head was bowed as she stared up at her father with those wide blue eyes. Though usually empty, today they were raging storms that were begging her to let go.
"Come on Avelina, your a pureblood, your a Rosier, kill the—
"I said STOP!" she yelled at him, in such a tone Calvus had never seen before.
Her voice shrill, full of such shaky emotion it seemed as if it was a bubble daring to burst. He resisted the urge to smile— whatever he was doing it was working.
Gone was the perfectly calm little girl, as she was replaced by a little ball of hatred. Pure hatred rippling off of her so much that the glass vase he had on the table began to shake ever so slightly.
"If your not going to do it," he edged, taking a step forward towards the rabbit. He reached a large hand towards it. "Then I will."
Years from now Avelina would remember this moment as clear as day in her mind. As if she could go back to it any moment.
She would remember the uncontrollable feeling in her chest, as if there was a creature inside her clawing it's way out of her throat. She would remember not trying to stop it, and she would certainly remember the look on her fathers face as he grasped at his throat, as if he couldn't breath.
She walked, little pigtails shaking, as her father collapsed onto his knees, face red as he couldn't get a breath through his windpipe. His wide blue eyes, the same ones she shared, were looking at her with such pleading it was almost unbearable.
The worst part is, Avelina didn't want to stop. It was like a new side of her had been unlocked, and she enjoying watched this man struggle to breath infront of her.
"Avelina what are you doing?" a high pitched voice yelled, and she turned around to see Evan, running towards there father. "Dad, can you hear me?"
Evan was shaking the man's shoulder, whispering him, begging him to wake up and be okay. Calvus was nearly knocked out, his lungs letting out horrid wheezing sounds as he struggled.
The young boys face was full of pure fear. The young boy who spent his afternoons killing rabbits in the meadow. As he looked up to see Avelina, her hand held out towards their father, wet tears flew down his cheeks.
To this day, it was the only time Evan Rosier ever cried.
"Avelina stop! You have to stop!" he shrieked.
And with a click again, Avelina stumbled back, coming into full realization that she was doing this. She watched as Calvus took a deep breath, relief swarming over his face as he did.
Evan reached out, no doubt to try to hug the man, only for Calvus to sway away, pushing his son to the floor.
"Your a weak man Evan. Crying over another man," Calvus snarked, before taking his stand and adjusting his tie.
You would think, Calvus would've been extremely mad at his daughter. Most likely grounding her or sending her to a mental institution, but no this man was thrilled. Over the moon even.
He turned to Avelina with a wide smile, one that was more terrifying then his usual scowl. He reached forward, and for a moment she flinched, only for the man to hug her.
"My daughter," he whispered, as he pulled back, taking her face in his hands. "You are going to do amazing things."
From over her fathers shoulder she could see Evan standing there.
It is often that in this part of the story that people forget he was just a little boy himself. A little boy who almost watched his father die, only to get shoved to the ground by the very man he was crying over. A little boy with a trembling lip and red cheeks, as he tried to calm down his crying with deep breathes.
Avelina wanted to tell Evan that she was sorry, more sorry then knew how to say. He always cared more when father did mean things to them. It was her often that held him at night, whispering reassuring words as he cried to her.
He deserved to be in her spot right now— Receiving an ever so rare hug from the man, and his overwhelming praise.
She'd be lying if she said she didn't worry about Evan immensely. That often at night she lay in bed, sick to her stomach with worry as she thought about her twin brother.
He just deserved so much more, and from a young age Avelina was pained she could never give it to him.
"You may keep the rabbit," Calvus said, motioning to the fury creature. "As a reminder about the day you became a true Rosier."
Avelina gulped, Evan let out a whimper, and Calvus chuckled with pure glee. Nevertheless, the girl reached forward, picking up the rabbit in her arms, and holding it close to her chest.
The walk back to her room for her evening time of reading and relaxation felt like a glaze after that. Her new pet bunny, licking her fingers as her mary jane covered feet slapped on the concrete floor.
When she eventually opened the door to her bedroom— all grey coloured even the carpet— she finally let herself take a shaky breath, placing the bunny on her bed.
"I shall name you Mr Honey," she told the creature, petting his fur thoughtfully.
The more she pet Mr Honey the more the girls mind became to wonder and ponder. The sort of soul searching wondering that you usually do when your much older.
It was then, as her hands were still shaking from nearly trying to kill her father, that Avelina Rosier made a promise to herself she would carry on her heart for the rest of her life.
She didn't like the feeling that brewed in her chest when she was strangling the man. It made her feel like some sort of wild monster who couldn't be tamed. That was not who she wanted to be, and she knew that from a young age.
"I will never be the cause of anyone else's pain ever again," she whispered to herself in the mirror hanging on her vanity. "
I promise you Avelina," she told herself.
"Never again."