Chapter Seven: Plans Revealed
I was sitting on the bank of the lake, watching the giant squid lurk beneath the surface. All of the other houses were goofing off or practicing their newly learned magic. I was the only Ravenclaw outside. Everyone else was holed up in the tower, working on their homework. I, however, had already finished my potions essay.
The lake's waves lapped my black ballet flats, and I frowned, looking out to the middle of the lake. I couldn't see what was causing the waves, but it was probably Moaning Myrtle again. She messed up the lake and then the girls bathroom.
Just like a Muggle-born, I thought bitterly. Nina whatever was up in the Ravenclaw common room right now, telling all of our fellow first-years how I was a horrible human being.
Easy for her to say, I thought bitterly. She's a Muggle. She has never had to live up to the great Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger.
Not that I really had much to live up to, considering my parents. Dad was an Auror, and Mum worked at the Ministry. The only thing interesting about what they had accomplished, was that they each had their own Chocolate Frog cards. When I was a kid I used to think it was great, to eat a chocolate and see my Mum or Dad waving at me.
That was a long time ago, I thought, embarrassed at myself getting caught up in the past. I looked around and saw a massive willow tree, which I then leaned against, free of the soaking waves.
"Hi!" said a voice.
I sighed loudly and opened my eyes into grey ones. Yelping, I jumped back from Scorpius Malfoy.
"Sorry," he said, his pale skin flushing pink. "I didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to introduce myself." He held out a pale hand. "Scorpius Malfoy."
I looked at his hand disdainfully, like it was the giant squid itself. "I know who you are, Death Eater Malfoy. I'm a Ravenclaw, not a stupid Hufflepuff like you."
Scorpius drew his hand back.
"Hufflepuffs are not stupid," he said. "Just because we're better than you Ravenclaws doesn't mean that you have to be so bitter!"
I snorted and crossed my arms. "In what ways are you "better?"" I made quotation marks with my hands.
"Huffelpuff's are loyal and always stick together," the boy said importantly. "And they are--"
"Then why are you ignoring you," I said, pointing to the gaggle of Hufflepuffs, who sat with their backs turned to Scorpius.
He blushed."That's different."
"Sure it is," I said sarcastically, taking out my plans from my bag. "Now go away, Death Eater. I don't want your thoughts to contaminate mine."
Malfoy stood there for a moment, and for a moment I thought that he might cry. Then he stomped away, heading towards the castle. Smiling, I shook out my plans and smoothing the wrinkled parchment on my robes.
"Rose Weasley's Plans to Becoming the Minister of Magic,"I read aloud. "Step one; be in either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor." Using the weird but useful Muggle contraption called "a pen", I crossed off that list item and moved on to the next. "Step two; take all the classes possible and get Outstanding OWLS in everyone of them." Step--"
"Hey Rose," came a stuck-up voice.
I hissed like a Slytherin snake. "Why are you here?"
"This isn't a private tree, Cuz," James said, sliding down from the trunk to sit by me. I folded my plans and sat, glowering at the obnoxious second-year, who smiled and ran his fingers through his hair.
"So you wanna become Minister of Magic?" James said, with a glance to the Slytherins, who were discussing secrets of Dark Arts, probably, by the lake's edge. "That's sure an interesting piece of information..."
I stood up and crammed my plans into my bag.
"James Sirius Potter," I said," if you tell anyone about this, I will personally tell everyone in Gryffindor, and especially the Quidditch team, how grandma is teaching you how to knit." I took a step closer to the boy.
"And how you enjoy it."
James rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. "But really, I wasn't going to." He looked at me hopefully, then shook his head, like he was clearing the cobwebs out of his brain. "Never mind. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."
He stood up. "It's about Albus," he confessed.
I wrinkled my nose and slid my inky black fingers through my fiery red hair. "What about him? Honestly James, Albus is like a little dog who needs to be walked-- all the time. He's so needy it astonishes me that he ever got into Gryffindor in the first place."
"That's why I need you help," James said. "He's not acting like a Potter should behave. I'm already getting weird looks from my housemates whenever I say that yes, he is my brother. Soon I'll be an outcast like him!"
And I couldn't care less, I thought.
"What do you want me to do," I asked.
"Talk to him," my cousin said. "He likes you, you're his favorite.
I rolled my eyes. "Fine," I said," I'll do it, but only once."
James ruffled my hair, and I slapped his hand. "Thanks, Rose," he said. "It wouldn't do to have a Potter acting weak like a Weasley."
He scampered off, and I watched him go, my blood boiling.
He thinks that Weasleys are soft, does he? I narrowed my eyes. I'll show him that we're not. At least, not me.