2.2 After the Feast

"Do you suppose they'll toss me out of the house if I say I'm currently a fan of Scorpius Malfoy?" Rose clung to Al's arm, dragging him along corridors and up staircases as they followed the first years being guided toward the common room for the first time. The task fell to the fifth year prefects, and Rose was merely keeping an eye out for stragglers as they walked. Albus had been drafted so she wouldn't have to walk alone, and he was, as always, perfectly willing to fall into step with whatever her plans may be.

"For pegging James with baked goods?" Al shoved his hair out of his eyes, giving Rose a waggle of one shaggy eyebrow. "Or because you appreciate his bum or something? Because I'll talk to you about the first, but I'm out on the second. We have a gentleman's agreement, Rose Weasley, that we never do any girl talk."

True, although Rose would never characterize anything she participated in as a 'gentleman's agreement'. Al had long ago drawn a firm line dividing their friendship into what was and was not acceptable conversational topics. No talking about boys. No talking about 'girl issues'. Rose found his rules acceptable, mostly because she could throw down the rules any time Al started wandering into 'disgusting boy talk' territory. No bodily functions. No talking about girls in a derogatory way. Perhaps it was the reason they were able to maintain a friendship; neither had expectations that the other was unable to fulfill. If Rose wanted to talk about her feelings, she sought out Jayne. If Al wanted to behave like a Neanderthal, he spent time with Dane or Petey.

"Because he hit James," Rose agreed. She didn't look at anyone's bum. It was demeaning. And embarrassing, especially if someone caught you doing it. "Who's been looking at Malfoy's bum? You sound like Lily."

Al scowled. Of all the things that could ruin his perpetual silver lining, his boy-crazy sister was high on the list. Far higher even than girl talk. Al had the bad luck to have a sister who had cast herself as the starring role in every romantic scenario she knew, and she moved as steadily through the vivid stories in her head as she did through the boys of Gryffindor house. It wasn't that Lily was wild or unmanageable; she was just a very determined flirt. Rose wouldn't be a bit shocked if they found, upon entering the common room, that Lily was spinning a tale of conquest and eternal bliss for her little group of addlepated followers. Now that Lily was a fourth year and very nearly through all the interesting Gryffindors, she would have to look to the rest of the school for amusement.

"You suppose James deserved it?" In spite of the fact that the brothers had personalities as different as kneazles and crups, Al still tended toward idolizing his brother on occasion. It was one of those long term terminal diseases that couldn't be cured by the most prat-like behavior.

"It's James, isn't it?" Rose, on the other hand, saw her cousins clearly. Al was her best friend, and Lily and James could be great fun, but they were also the people most able to make her crazy. "You saw him at the train station, giving Malfoy the eye. And Fred was just abysmal to Acantha Zabini on the train. If it was me, I would have buttered the roll first. Extra points if it sticks a bit before falling off."

"You're right. They're going to kick you out of Gryffindor. Just don't say anything to James about it. Please?" They'd both seen James nearly leap over the table to get at Malfoy, held in check only by the presence of Professor Atra at the Slytherin table and a calming hand from Adlai Thomas on James' arm. It was lucky Fred was last getting off the train and hadn't managed to get up to the castle in time to sit with James. With whispered encouragement in his ear from the Head Boy, James may have burned the whole place down in reckless pleasure.

The group of first years hit a landing ahead of Rose and Albus, and the children tittered at the appearance of Peeves through a suit of armor at the top of the stairs. Admittedly, his bright bow tie and jingling hat were quite the spectacle, although Rose preferred the stately dignity of Sir Nicholas, even with his head wobbling atop his prodigious ruff. Although those with older siblings or cousins cowered at the sight of the poltergeist, a few of the first years clapped as Peeves pulled himself free of the armor and did a spinning flip in the air. He came to a stop in the air above the first years, a wide grin spreading across his ugly face.

"Oh, Merlin." Rose and Albus took a few steps back, and Rose wondered what exactly fifth year prefects Cassandra Blue and Drew Kirke were waiting for - staring blankly at the poltergeist had never kept him from doing his worst as far as she knew. It was only prolonging the inevitable.

Almost on cue, water balloons appeared as if from nowhere, dropping onto the heads of the now shrieking first years and drenching them. For having a reputation as the bravest of the newly sorted students, the firsties weren't displaying much of anything but shock. Three steps above them, the prefects weren't doing much better, and the entire group just kept screaming and growing more damp. Peeves continued to cackle weakly, although even his sense of fun was hindered by the absolute slaughter occurring in the group below.

"Sweet Circe," Rose muttered, pushing past the dripping first years until she stood in the middle of the group. Al waited below, grinning hugely at the entire event. He was such a help. "It's water, you great babies. If you don't like getting wet, then keep moving, but for the love of all things red and gold, please stop screaming as if you're being murdered." She made a shooing motion at the prefects, and they scurried up the rest of the flight, turning at the top and disappearing through a tapestry. The first years had to run to keep up, but they were soon clear of the attack area. Peeves gave Rose and Albus a salute punctuated by a loud raspberry before turning a flip and disappearing through the floor. Hopefully, he was off to cause mental anguish for another group of first years, spread the horror around a bit. If they were lucky, no one other than those present would ever know about the embarrassment that had just occurred, but it was unlikely their luck would hold. By morning, the whole school would have heard about it, and she'd have to listen to jokes about 'brave ickle Gryffindors' for the rest of the week.

"What were we talking about?"

Rose started through the tapestry at the top of the stairs, although she paused to give Al a look. There was no sign of any dawdling first years in the passage ahead of them, and she was unwilling to run at this point. Let Merlin take the whole bloody group of them. "We were discussing the fact that your brother is a git and that I'm about to be kicked out of Gryffindor."

"Naw," Al waved it off. "Not after the way you just screamed at the first years."

"I didn't scream at them. I politely informed them that they had more options than standing around waiting to get wet." Rose was a bit damp herself, although most of the damage was to her hair. The water was making the curls do strange and unusual things, but without a mirror, she was resigned to enter the common room looking like a drowned poodle. Hopefully, her shirt would be mostly dry by then, as it was sticking to her body in unflattering ways. Al was generous enough not to notice.

"You informed them of their options at the top of your lungs."

"They were very noisy," Rose responded in a prim tone. They had nearly reached the common room by this point, and she patted her hair fretfully before stepping through the portrait hole. It was no use, though... it was possible she could see her own hair in her peripheral vision. Never a good sign.

Inside the common room, the calculated chaos of Gryffindor house had swung into gear. First years ignored the prefects trying to shoo them onward and gaped at the room in a way that actually brought a fond smile to Rose's face, reminding her of her first glimpse of the common room all those years ago. Near the fire, the sixth and seventh year girls had sprawled out to swap notes about the summer, and they were doing a valiant job ignoring the antics of James, Fred, and their ilk, who were playing a rules-on-the-fly version of Destroy the Common Room.

Rose wasn't about to tell them off for it, considering the Head Boy was currently clinging to the fireplace mantle by his bare knuckles and screaming, "I'm the monkey mambo mama." She really did not understand the rules to this game, although there was a good chance that no real rules existed. Some of the younger boys were trying to tag in to the game, but James and Fred would disqualify them for a new reason each time. Eyes-Too-Blue and Eyes-Not-Blue-Enough blinked at each other in dejection before making their way back to an abandoned Wizarding chess game.

A small pocket of third and fourth year girls, and even a fifth year girl, sat with Lily, who was undoubtedly regaling them with her latest conquest. Rose tried hard not to think about what their subject matter might be, but she suspected that at some time during the school year, she'd owe her cousin a firm talk about taking her studies seriously and leaving the boys alone.

One of the squashy ottomans contained Dane and Petey, and Al gave Rose an anxious look. She knew he wouldn't dare suggest that he join them, if only to avoid reopening the unresolved argument from last term, but she also knew he wanted to go. "I don't care," Rose wagged a finger at the boys, and Al scampered off in their direction like a pleased crup puppy. "Just don't bring up my name. And... and tell me if someone else does."

Eh. A moment of weakness, and Rose wasn't even sure that Al had heard her. She hoped he hadn't, although it didn't keep her from turning a bit pink at the idea that anyone in the common room had just overheard her being exceptionally vain. Who cared if any of the nitwits in her year didn't find her pretty? A girl was more than her face. And if she wasn't, then she ended up being someone like Delaney Baird who had actually managed to lose her own wand last year. It was missing for an entire day before she remembered that she'd put it under her pillow to encourage prophetic dreaming. The girl was lucky she hadn't caught her damned head on fire.

"D'you suppose the other common rooms are like this?" Jayne had acquired her own couch, and Rose didn't inquire how she'd managed it. Probably a story best left untold. She paused as Cassandra and Drew finally managed to get all the first years up the stairs toward their respective dormitories to change clothes, and then she glanced back at her friend.

"I suppose they all have their quirks, yeah. Perhaps not so loud, but if we were really out of bounds, Professor Longbottom would come shut us down." Their Head of House might appear lenient compared to someone like Atra, but the Herbology professor took his role very seriously. He'd shut down their celebration following last year's Quidditch final when someone set off red and gold rockets from every tower in the castle. Rose still wasn't sure how they'd managed Ravenclaw tower, but perhaps there were Gryffindor sympathizers in the Eagle's nest.

A cheer rippled through the rowdy mass of students when the food arrived: someone had managed to steal a collection of pastries and a whole chest of icy butterbeers from the kitchens. Rose ignored the rules being broken and let someone press a drink into her hand. It might have been Yates, but if she pretended she hadn't seen who gave it to her, she would enjoy the drink in peace and relative happiness.

"But none of them have Destroy the Common Room," Jayne finished. Was that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing?

"I'm not sure we do either. Last year, the point of the game might have been to steal the quill from the other team. This year, the point is to beat the tar out of each other."

Jayne laughed and shrugged, tipping her bottle against Rose's with a satisfying click. "Well, then. Here's to us. Here's to another year at Hogwarts. Here's to... the House Cup. Here's to Quidditch."

Rose cheered as she took a long sip from the bottle. It tickled all the way to her stomach, and she sneezed. Twice. She would drink to Hogwarts and the House Cup and to Quidditch as well, but her plans for the year were bigger than earning another trophy. Rose was drinking to her mission to be Head Girl. It was going to be a big year.