Summary: Informed on her birthday that she has an arranged marriage with Draco Malfoy, Rosa Black couldn't be angrier. After spending her entire life traveling throughout western Europe with her mother, Rosa is spending her final year of magical education in Hogwarts as a Slytherin. As if Malfoy isn't bad enough, Rosa has to deal with keeping the truth of her impending marriage from everyone and keeping up with the secrets and lies she is creating to hide the truth; especially the one about who her real father is. As the year passes and her relationship with Harry grows closer than she ever imagined, secrets hidden from her begin to be revealed... how can she keep up with all these lies she's telling to protect herself? Especially if even she doesn't know the full truth?
And in the end... who will win? Draco by family comfort and right of law? Or will Rosa disown everything she ever knew and the only person she has known her whole life just to be with Harry, one she may be falling in love with? That is, if she can keep up her secrets and lies... sometimes those aren't easily kept for too long after all.
Author's Note: Hey... I'm back from my exchange to France and wow things have changed here over the course of... 10 months... Well I randomly got this idea when going through creativity block with other stuff... so I decided to come back to the fan fictions I ditched so long ago. BIENVENUE all readers - new and maybe some old. Hope y'all enjoy this story 
****** Chapter 1
The Gift
Normally I woke up when the sun rose just above the horizon, but today was different. It was the crack of dawn and I was already wide awake. After I gave up trying to go back to sleep for an hour, I figured I could keep unpacking the boxes and transferring some of those things into my suitcases. While I was throwing various robes and books into my suitcases, I was complaining about it under my breath. This was the 5th country I’ve lived in since I’ve been born, and now the second school I’ll be attending. I didn’t mind Beauxbatons; I was pretty fluent in French and there were some British kids there too. I didn’t see why my mom was subjecting me to this torture. Did she want to force me to make her my best friend? After all, she was the only other person I've had in with my throughout all of my life for as long as I could remember.
Growing frustrated at the lack of space and still a few last things to go, I slammed the trunk top shut and pushed it away. Once I changed, I left my bedroom and headed for the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, my mom began banging on the door, but I didn’t hear much until another ten minutes passed.
"For Merlin’s sake, get moving! Did you fall in again?"
Scowling, I stopped running the water. "Out in a minute!"
"You said that five minutes ago! You aren’t the only one who needs to go."
"Then you should’ve thought about many bathrooms there would be! This is the biggest place we’ve ever had, yet you get the fewest bathrooms! Were you bargain hunting?" I dried out my hair with a heating charm.
"I wasn’t bargain hunting for your birthday gift, let me tell..."
I burst out of the bathroom at the mention of my birthday. Mom smiled and slipped into the bathroom, locking it.
"I was almost done!" I snapped, banging on the door. I kept hitting my fists against it for another few moments, but I gave in when she didn’t respond whatsoever.
Sighing, I headed to the kitchen. Seeing there was no breakfast, I grabbed something from the fridge and sat down on a chair and ate whatever it was without really tasting it. We had four chairs, all of which were placed in a circle, but there was no table in the middle. It looked ridiculous; every room was still half-packed.
My mom didn’t acknowledge it was my 17th birthday for the rest of the day. I locked myself in my room all day; The long-fought battle between me and my suitcase was finally won… to the suitcase. I had to take out some personal valuables to fit the last few books. When that was done, I just read any of the books I could find in my various boxes from our recent move from southern France. I got a letter from my best friend at Beauxbatons. I honestly never thought such a boring day could exist. It was just around sunset when I heard two loud bangs.
"Mom, door!" I called, unmoving from my book-laden bed.
"Get dressed!" she called back.
My eyebrows creased together in confusion. "I am!"
"Nicer. We have guests."
I heard heels clicking along the marble floors. Was this a black-tie event she had organised? On my birthday? This had better be a birthday party... but with people I know this time. Maybe some of my British/French friends were invited?
Trying not to let the exciting thought overtake my feelings, I changed out of what I had on and into a colourful, tropical-looking halter summer dress I got yesterday as a birthday gift from my friend a few days ago and a pair of leggings. Once I had changed, I brushed my black hair, recently streaked with pink and blue. After putting on make-up, I made my way out of the room and downstairs to the guest living room. I stopped at the doorframe. If this was going to be some small party it was going to be pathetic. Three people, two of which are adults, that I don’t even know.
"Rosa!" my mom turned around, smiling brightly.
Important guests at that. And our house still half-unpacked? Wow, she
really thought this one through.
"I don’t think you will remember our guests... come on."
I warily crossed the room and stood behind a couch. When the guests looked at me, something about the piercing grey eyes of the older man and his son seemed familiar, but I couldn’t put a name to them.
"These are the Malfoys."
I had met them once or twice when I was young, before my mum first moved out of Britain. Few knew about my parentage, my father more specifically. The Malfoys only knew of my existence because my father was once a Death Eater, like Mr. Malfoy presumably still is. He was young, though, my father. He wasn’t in the most prestigious ranks of Death Eaters as Mr. Malfoy, but they all knew each other. From what I assume was the result of Legilimens, he found out about my mother’s existence and, ultimately, me. They put me and their son together each of the few times my mother met with the family, but whenever we played together it didn’t go too well.
“Pleasure,” I said with as much of a smile I could make without it looking too obviously fake. I sat on the other side of the loveseat my mom was seated on already.
After they exchanged greetings, the three adults started talking. I just sat there, pretending to listen. I felt the hair rising on my neck. I turned slightly and looked directly at Draco, whose eyes burned into me. When I met his gaze, the corner of his mouth raised into a mix of a smirk and smile; it was a cocky look that took all my strength to resist scowling back at. Biting the inside of my lip to resist, I then turned back to my mum and the Malfoys.
“Rosa, dear, why don’t you show Draco around? I’ll call you two for dinner.”
“Um, mum, it’s still a bit of a...”
The look she gave me cut me off mid-sentence. I stood up and turned around, catching a glimpse of her smiling brightly. When I heard Draco get up, I walked away, mentally fuming. I didn’t speak as I left the room. I went up the stairs and stopped once I reached the top. Draco arrived at the top 3 steps behind me and came to my side. I edged away an inch, giving myself the space he invaded.
“Other living room,” I said, gesturing towards the couch that was placed before a carpet, barely noticeable behind the boxes built up around the space like a fortress wall.
“And you’ve been here for two weeks?” I heard a faint hint of disdain and surprise in his voice.
It was comments like this that resulted in almost every incident ‘just I caused’ with him as a kid. I broke his nose.
Twice. You’d think he’d have learned.
“Yes,” I said curtly, my right hand curling into a tight fist. I turned on my heel and continued on, stopping in the kitchen.
I looked at Draco, whose eyes looked at the circle of chairs around nothing. He seemed rather amused.
“So we’re eating here?” he asked, holding back laughter.
“No,” I snapped. I passed him and headed for the door that led to our balcony overlooking the rest of our land, the forest and a glimpse of a lake beyond it. I opened the door and turned to Draco. “After you.”
He stood there, eying me warily. I had a feeling he hadn’t repressed the memory of when I locked him out of his mansion and left him banging on the doors to be let in for 5 hours. His parents finally heard and let him in then, after which I got hit once for being 'rude', 'disrespectful', 'a nuisance', 'even worse than an imp' (sometimes 'kappa'), and many other things. My mum loved to yell and label me with a new name for my 'attitude' back then.
“Ladies first,” he responded, a hint of a challenge in his tone.
“You’re the guest.”
He started chuckling, momentarily taking me off-guard. “You haven’t changed,” he finally said, one corner of his mouth raised in a wry smile. At least he wasn't smirking, or I'd have reason to forcibly wipe that annoying, pompous look off his face.
My eyes narrowed on him, glaring. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I growled.
His smirk just grew. “Still as feisty as a blast-ended skrewt.”
“And you’re still as arrogant as a hippogriff. Your point?”
He glared coldly, all signs of humour gone.
“You don’t scare me,” I said, slamming the door shut and pushing by him.
He stumbled back one step and caught himself. It hasn’t even been 5 minutes alone with him and I’m ready to push him off that balcony.
I led him to the hallway on the other side of the stairs, stopping next to the beginning of the wall. “Bedrooms.” I pointed down the hall directly in front of us, waving slightly at the two doors on each white wall. “Study...” I pointed at the door at the end of the long hallway.
“Your mum works?” Draco asked, surprised.
“It’s more like a potions room,” I rephrased, turning from the closed 'study' door to him to gauge his reaction.
He didn’t comment further on the subject. “So, you’re coming to Hogwarts,” Draco said suddenly as I passed him again.
“Yes.”
“Final year?” he pressed further.
“Yeah.” I stopped at the top of the stairs, looking to the blank wall connected to the living room, overhanging the stairs halfway down. “Wouldn’t you already know this information?”
“I’ve heard whispers, nothing more.”
I scowled. I tried to step down the first stair, but a grip on my upper arm stopped me, pulling me back a few steps. “Let. Go,” I snarled, my head snapping towards him with icy eyes. My bangs felt over one of my eyes, the black and blue section blocking my view of Draco.
“A house tour doesn’t include this ‘study’?” His hard eyes held mine. A glint of challenge reflected in his pale eyes.
“No. Nor my bedroom,” I added quickly as his mouth began to open. He shut it, but it began to open again. “Nor my mum’s. Or the guest rooms.”
“Your mother said she’d call,” he finally said, his response sounding abnormally clipped.
“So?”
“We should...”
“Since when did you listen to rules?” I cut in scathingly, my eyes narrowing on him suspiciously.
He didn’t reply. Only his grip tightened to a rather uncomfortable grasp. I bit the inside of my lip at the increasing pain.
“Are you trying to break my arm? Let go!”
He pulled my away from the stairs and let go finally, his hand brushing against my arm as it fell back to his side. It made me want to shiver. I rolled my shoulder and stretched out my arm thankfully. Draco just scowled as I did this.
“What do you think is so important that we can’t be down there?” I asked Draco, curious. He seemed to know it was important enough to not barge back in.
He didn’t reply for a moment. “So you were in France?”
I sighed and rolled my eyes, defeated.
He knew what was going on. Why couldn't I?
“Yes.”
“Did you go to school, or...?”
“I was at Beauxbatons for two years.”
“So you’re fluent in French then?” he pressed curiously.
“Oui, je parle couramment français. Et toi, le gars qui ont les cheveux gras et m’énerve trop?” I replied.
Yes, I speak fluent French. And you, you greasy haired guy who annoys me greatly? It was moments like this I wished I knew better French than I already did and that French wasn’t so picky about grammar; it’s much easier to make insults in English.
“Un peu,” he responded, sounding unsure. “What was the rest?”
“Rien.”
He scowled, understanding my response of
nothing clearly. “So where else have you lived?”
“Why?” I asked suspiciously, my blue-green eyes narrowing on him.
“Conversation,” he replied, shrugging.
“Draco, Rosa, dinner!” my mum yelled from downstairs.
Thankful for the perfect timing, I hurried down the stairs and through the living room. I made my way down the hall and into our official dining room. I nearly tripped over one of our two house elves, narrowly avoiding making a huge mess of food.
“’Scuse Melli, young mistress! Melli never watches where she’s going...”
The little elf got to her feet, bowing down before me a twice and scurried off to the other end of our table with the two platters in her hands. She placed them before Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy as I sat down to the side of mum, who was at the head of the table.
Melli hurried back into the big kitchen in the next room over and came back out with two more platters, placing one in front of me and one in the empty seat next to me. Moments after Melli disappeared into the kitchen, Draco sat down behind the empty platter next to me.
My jaw clenched. I swear there’s some sort of ulterior motive for our parents putting us together every time we had some gathering. Or it was a conspiracy, who knows. As soon as the last platter was placed in front of mum, we all removed the cover and started eating.
Dinner was eerily quiet. Once we finished the main course, we had a small cake brought out, already cut into six pieces.
“I made it myself,” mum said the moment it was placed in the middle of our group to the one side of our dining room table.
“This is my birthday gift from you, isn’t it?” I asked, looking from the elaborately frosted cake to her.
“Yes.”
“Couldn’t find anything as a gift?”
“Exactly,” she responded, smiling.
I smiled back, amused, and looked back to the cake. It was a nearly perfect replica of the Slytherin house shield, something I’ve seen my life even though I’ve never set foot in Hogwarts Castle.
Mum took the knife and reached for Mr. Malfoy’s plate first.
“Serve your daughter first, Cassie; it is her birthday after all,” he said, looking from me to my mother. My cheeks burned mildly at this.
She did as she said without a moment’s hesitation, taking my plate and placing a big slice onto it. She continued serving everyone, leaving the 6th piece on the platter. We all ate our cake in silence.
“Before we go...” Mr. Malfoy looked up from his watch. “We have a few gifts.”
I smiled; I didn’t exactly expect them to have a birthday gift for me, it was a pleasant surprise. He snapped his fingers and an oddly-shaped, perfect wrapped gift was summoned to his side. He passed it to mum, who gave it to me. I took it from her and flipped it so the largest, rounder end was near me. I ripped off the paper. Once I recognized the straw-like, wood end I ripped faster. I flipped the exposed broomstick so the handle was the right way up and read the handle.
“A Firebolt 360?” I breathed, shocked. They were being released to the wizarding public in Britain in two days! The last time I held a broomstick in my hand was at Beauxbatons at our Quidditch final. It broke when I was hit by a bludger and the broom flew into the stands. Even that broomstick was a Nimbus 2002, nowhere near as good as this one.
“Someone has to bring Slytherin up from the place its team is at,” Mr. Malfoy said.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling.
“This,” Mrs. Malfoy said, pushing a medium-sized box across the table. “Goes with that.”
I took it and ripped off the wrapping paper. Beneath was a fine cherry wood box engraved with the Black family crest. Carefully opening the box, my eyes widened slightly at what was inside.
“Finest dragon skin in the market. Directly from Romania,” Mrs. Malfoy explained.
I tried on the Quidditch gloves. They felt a little big, but the moment they sat still on my hands, they tightened magically, fitting perfectly. They felt like an extra skin on my hand.
“They will only ever fit your hands now,” Mrs. Malfoy told me.
I slid them off and gingerly put them back into the engraved box. “Thanks,” I said, looking from it to Mrs. Malfoy, smiling brightly.
I wasn’t sure if I was expecting Draco to give anything. He never was the most giving person... or sharing, for that matter.
“Go ahead, Draco,” Mr. Malfoy said. There was a certain edge to his tone I couldn’t place... it worried me.
Draco pulled an even smaller, wrapped box from is pocket. He put it on the table and slid it over so it was directly in front of me. His hand lingered on it a moment, and then let go and dropped back onto his lap. I looked at it, curious but wary. Everyone’s eyes were on me, almost burning with intensity. I refused to meet any of them in the eye, my cheeks beginning to burn from the anxiety.
The wrapping paper was really pretty this time, brightly coloured with various flowers and yin-yang signs, very un-Slytherin like. It served as a good reason to take my time unwrapping it. When I finished unwrapping, the paper dropped to an empty spot on the table. In my hands, now, was a small, black velvet box.
This had
better be a sick joke and there was just a pair of earrings inside.
The eyes around me told my hopes likewise, though. How could my mother do this to me? Without telling me! No form of warning; I barely even know him! Was this why we returned to Britain? The real reason – sending me off to my death? It was nice knowing everyone...
Well, maybe not
everyone.
I pulled the top up. Inside was a sparkling rock of a diamond on a perfect silver ring.
As much as I wanted to pinch myself
really hard, I don’t think the Malfoys would take too kindly to me telling them I’m trying to get out of this nightmare. The only thing stopping me from not caring about the consequences of doing such a thing was having the knowledge of what my mother would do to me.
So, I did the only other option I had to escape this sick dream temporarily.
Thud!
Chapter Links:
Chapter 2 - The Train Chapter 3 - The Sorting Chapter 4 - The Library Chapter 5 - The Try-Outs Chapter 6 - The Threat Chapter 7 - The Date Chapter 8 - The Kitchen Chapter 9 - The Information Chapter 10 - The Confusion Chapter 11 - The Question Chapter 12 - The Ball Chapter 13 - The Present Chapter 14 - The Party (part 1) Chapter 14 - The Party (Part 2) Chapter 15 - The Return Chapter 16 - The Suspicion Chapter 17 - The Story Chapter 18 - The Potion Chapter 19 - The Truth Chapter 20 - The Fight Chapter 21 - The Words Chapter 22 - The Fainting Chapter 23 - The Talk Chapter 24 - The Letters Chapter 25 - The Bruises Chapter 26 - The Apology Chapter 27 - The Lies Chapter 28 - The Studying Chapter 29 - The House Cup Chapter 30 - The Hospital Wing Chapter 31 - The Locket Chapter 32 - The Confrontation Chapter 33 - The Exams Chapter 34 - The Graduation (part 1) Chapter 34 - The Graduation (part 2)