CHAPTER EIGHT
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-: sixth year :-

── IN WHICH THE WEEK
GOES BY

. . .

The weekends in Hogsmeade were far more exciting than the weekdays. Rosie was quick to find that out soon after getting there, but tried to push through with a smile on her face.

On the weekdays, there was normally only people on the older side. Everyone else was at work or school, and the village seemed quiet unless tourists came around. On weekends however, people came from all over, hoping to find some comfort in the only-magic dwelling in Britain. 

Most people were from the bigger cities, but sometimes there were people who managed to sneak out from the school, which is exactly what James Potter and his friends managed to do.

And the memory of that night was what kept Rosie going through all of the dull days, helping her arrange a smile on her face when some old woman demanded a fifth refill of Butterbeer and tried to get her to give it to her for free.

Much to the landlord's delight, it seemed that along with Rosie's carefree attitude, she didn't care about offending anyone, and she easily could put her foot down and say no. Maybe it would lose them a customer or two, but Raise didn't really care.

Amongst the serving shifts, Rosie mostly thought of her only night of fun since arriving, or pulled out the sketchpad she had hidden behind the stack of memories, hoisting herself up onto the back counter and being very careful not to lean on any of the bottles, she drew several of the customers sat in front of her. 

Raisa had given up on asking her to get down, and didn't even flinch when she saw the girl sat there after serving an elderly couple their mid-week fish and chips. "So, Rosie, have you happened to have heard from James recently?" The woman came to a stop in front of the counter, leaning against the wood.

Rosie's pencil stopped moving, the tip pressing against the paper. Slowly she looked up. Even if she was closer to her aunt than her mum at this moment of time, that didn't automatically mean that they were going to talk about boys - especially not ones she hooked up with. 

The Rosmerta girl simply shrugged, returning to her drawing. 

Raisa let out a sigh. "Rosie, come on. I've not insisted you do any of your work, I've let you do as you please for a little while, can you at least talk to me about something?" The woman shook her head, propping her elbows up on the wooden surface. "Believe it or not, I'm not out to get you and I won't use anything you've told me against you."

Rosie paused again, before she let out a sigh and placed her sketchbook and pencil down on the counter, instead picking up her wand and twisting it between her fingers, watching as it tapped against her knee like a drumstick.

"We haven't talked." Rosie shrugged. "It was just a hookup.. so you're not really supposed to. I was just helping him out. But.." She cut herself off, suddenly aware of what she was about to say.

"But...?" Madam Rosmerta repeated, hoping to urge her into continuing.

"Before he left the other morning he invited me to the Gryffindor Halloween party." Rosie was still avoiding her aunt's gaze. "And I accepted the invitation." 

"I'm not even going to guess how you're going to get up there." Raisa shook her head at the thought. "Is it dress-up?"

"Of course.. there would be no fun in it if it wasn't." Rosie quoted James directly, thinking back to when she asked that very question.

"Do you know what you're going as?" The woman across from her asked. "I have a few of my old costumes stashed away somewhere if you need them."

"I think I've got something." As if she finally realised that her aunt wasn't a threat, Rosie had looked up from her wand and actually had a small smile on her face. "Have you ever seen the Muggle movie 'Grease'?" 

"It's American, isn't it?" Rosmerta clarified, getting a nod. "Then yes, I believe I have."

"I'm going to go as Sandy. There's a scene with an outfit that I have everything for.. and my hair works really well with it - it's the only time it comes in useful." Rosie shrugged, reaching for a curl of blonde hair and fiddling with it. 

"I won't ask you to work the evening shift on Saturday then." Raisa looked thoughtful for a moment. "In fact I might just close early like everyone else does on a Saturday, give myself some time off."

"Good idea." Rosie's eyes landed on a table over her aunt's shoulder. "I think someone wants a refill."

"You're a cheeky bugger telling me that when you're sat right there." Rosmerta shook her head as she stood up again, holding onto her notepad. "Just let me know when you're leaving on Saturday, okay?"

"Got it." Rosie nodded, returning to her sketchpad as Madam Rosmerta went to get the orders of another customer. The landlady felt oddly successful as she wrote down their food and drinks orders, walking away with the promise to bring them as soon as possible.

At least Rosie had managed to tell her of her weekend plans, even if it took Raisa a little while to convince her to.

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