closedrosemary-blog1

[closedrosemary-blog1]

Rosemary had never before been spoken to in the way that Amycus had spoken to her. You knew this was going to happen, you foolish girl. She told herself in a voice that mimicked her mothers to a T. She hid away from the public view long enough to get all the tears out, long enough to get a grip and figure out what to do. She knew he had these problems, she just didn’t think they’d lash out onto her. He said he would never hurt her and he did. He did hurt her and even if it was because Rodolphus was there it didn’t make it okay. The walk back to the castle was one she had always been too afraid to make alone, so she found herself pushing open the doors of the three broom sticks in hopes to find Wendy. After a moment of searching, she let out a heavy sigh and walked towards the back. Wendy wasn’t here, but Ludo sat alone cheering at something someone said and she couldn’t stop herself from crossing over to him.

“Ludo.” she greeted weakly, putting her hands on the back of the chair facing him. “Would you mind if I sat with you for a bit? I can’t find Wendy--” oh heavens, he’s probably here with a date. She thought, feeling even more like a burden than she previously had. “I promise I can try to be good company though.”

@ludobagmcn

[closedrosemary-blog1]

carrow-amycus:

Amycus’s head tilted slightly to the side as Rosemary cut her sentence off and he watched her hand fly to her chest to grab onto the cross pendant hanging around her neck. But why? He could see her breath every time she exhaled, and they seemed to have quickened. Then he realized it was because now they were only inches from one another. When had he moved this close to her? Why didn’t he want to take a step back upon realizing this? Then he remembered how warm she had been when she embraced him. How, despite her red, frost nipped nose and rosy cheeks, if he were to move in even closer, her warmth would envelope him. It was calling out to him now, and he was leaning in. You shouldn’t be doing this, the voice in the back of his head warned him. He’d only kissed someone on the lips once before, nearly four years ago, and it was also his last time doing so. But her parted lips seemed inviting, and he was tired of being made of ice. The space between them was getting smaller, and he shut his eyes out of anticipation. 

The silence was cut through by Rosemary’s yell, and although her push wasn’t hard enough to physically move him, her certainly received the message to move back. One, two, three steps to put more distance between them. There was a pang in his chest that he’d felt a handful of times. When his mother would slam the door in his face, ignore him as he spoke to her, walk out of the room holding Alecto’s hand. He’d grown accustomed to that feeling of rejection, but god did he not expect to feel that any time soon, especially not with Rosemary. Rosemary who was his secret friend, whom he had to share with no one. Who wanted him to be vulnerable yet he was just at his most vulnerable point with her and she shoved him away. Was he really that repulsive? Not a simple, ‘stop’ or ‘wait’, but an exclamation of the word NO and a push backwards as if he wouldn’t understand if she had done it any other way. Like he was a monster who would’ve forced her to kiss him even if she didn’t want to. Dejection was clear in Amycus’s eyes as she started to go off on him.

It actually hurt him that she thought he saw her as some girl to mess around with. An emotional pain that became physical as he felt another pang in his chest. He didn’t kiss anyone, and the one person he wanted to rejected him. This was why he didn’t, because he knew he wasn’t lovable or wanted. He didn’t want to open up that way because he didn’t want to get burned when his feelings went unrequited which they sure to be. There was nothing redeemable about him, he told her, girls didn’t like him, so why would she be any different? Before Amycus could get a word in and tell her that that was not how this was, he heard footsteps and panic set in. Who would be walking behind this bloody tea shop? But as the footsteps grew louder, and a figure rounded the corner, he knew exactly who it was. Rodolphus. He must’ve been looking for him, there was no other way to explain it. And he found him, behind a bloody tea shop with Rosemary Applebee who he was nearly just kissing. Turning his attention away from the boy and back to Rosemary, he knew he had to keep his cover, he had to make this believable. Rod could never know about this. and so his expression turned into a snarl. “Watch yourself, little girl,” Amycus sneered, knowing that the harshness would be enough to scare her, enough to get a true reaction from her. If this is how she sees me, then I’ll show her what she believes, he thought to himself. “Speak to me that way again, and next time you won’t be so lucky to get off with a warning. Get the hell out of my sight before I change my mind!” Amycus barked at her, his teeth bared, just as Rodolphus emerged from the shadows. Maybe he should’ve felt bad for speaking to her that way, even if it was fake, but there was a pain in him now that he got just from looking at her, and that pain felt better as he tore her down in front of his friend. 

This was it. Everything Rosemary had been anticipating was now playing into effect and the worst part of this all was he warned her. She knew it would happen like this. First she would act out thoughtlessly, then she would get embarrassed and cry. Next he would prove himself right. The first slew of words cut her down to size as she stood there in front of him, a small mess of trembling curls. Watch yourself, little girl. A sharp whimper escaped her mouth and she pressed herself flat against the barrel he’d lifted her onto. No this wasn’t making sense, only moments before he was soft and shy and intrigued by her. Who was standing in front of her now was the boy she heard tales about around the castle. It took her a moment to notice Rodolphus was standing only feet from them, a completely stoic look on his face as he motioned for his friend to leave with him. Rodolphus and Lucius had always terrified Rosemary the most, because they didn’t even seem real. They had more money than anyone she’d ever met, they seemed untouchable. Like royalty. Seeing him was what caused the first sob to leave her chest. 

Because now her embarrassment wasn’t confined to just herself, it was now this other boys entertainment as well. Once the first sob hit the air the rest followed freely, freezing her in her spot. Amycus threatened her. It just sank in as she tried to look at him through blurred tears that if this happened again something bad would happen and he was yelling at her to get out of his sight, and in this moment, Rosemary felt disgusted with herself for being this foolish. She knew that they said ‘secret’ but she was sure this was more about being shoved back. Maybe the physical contact struck a nerve in him. Rosemary agreed to secret, but not vicious words when other people were around. “W-what?” She tried to ask, but all she could think about was how her face already felt chapped from the hot tears pouring into such cold temperatures and she couldn’t get the words out. He said he’d never hurt you-- he said that I could trust him and-- Rosemary felt dizzier than she had when his face was pressed close to hers.

Then a memory danced into her head, it was a Wednesday night and the girls from the choir were all standing outside, listening to a roaring humming of cicadas as they gossiped about other people. It wasn’t uncommon for women to be treated a lot like this, and she was sure she’d heard the same words escape the lips of deacons of her church when they thought no one else was listening. Watch your mouth, little girl and then later, in moments like hot Wednesday nights, it’d get repeated by eavesdroppers. She shouldn’t have done what she did-- they’d say, and Rosemary would feel her mouth go dry. Was this one of those situations? Sure... She could have tried to react better when she thought he was going to kiss her, but boys were never that close to her, she was never that close to letting them kiss her and she panicked. Now he was yelling a slew of cruel words at her and she didn’t know what to do. “I-I-I’m sorry A-Amycus-- I--” she paused, sucking air into her lungs before looking for the nearest exit and bolting towards it.

[closedrosemary-blog1]

carrow-amycus:

Amycus slowly nodded his head as he listened to Rosemary. Not because he necessarily agreed with what she was saying, but just to silently let her know that that he was listening. He was a few steps closer to her now and he couldn’t even remember moving forward, but his jacket was grazing her knees due to their proximity. If he and Alecto were placed in different houses, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done. They were twins, each other’s life lines for so long, if they were separated and molded into different people… He didn’t want to know how it would’ve affected their relationship. “I don’t find you embarrassing,” Amycus reassured her quietly even though it wasn’t even him she was talking about. Still, he felt as though he should comfort her, because the friends of Carter’s she was speaking of were his friends. “You’re just… Different. They’re not too good with different. Even if it is a good sort of different,” his words came out mumbled as he got shy speaking them aloud. 

Her question about him growing up with magic made his demeanor grow a bit harder. His childhood with magic was much more different than that of his peers. Amycus learned how to wield a wand without ever holding a real one in his hand until he went into Ollivander’s at age eleven. He knew what it was like to endure the pain that magic could cause until there was no way to feel it anymore. “Not that magical for me,” he whispered, staring down at his shoes. “It’s just… Part of life, really. Sometimes it feels the same as breathing. Funny, how opposite things are between the muggle world and the wizarding. They think we’re evil, and we think they’re lesser beings.” Because they are, he wanted to add, but kept that part to himself. “There were tell tale signs of being a wizard for me when I was growing up. Sometimes I could control the electricity throughout the whole neighborhood.” Amycus placed his hands on beside either side of her thighs on the barrel, “What about you? Did you sing and animals would appear at your window?” He grinned as he half teased.

This felt different. Different than the very few times she caught herself watching a boy this way. It was Ludo first, and it hadn’t even been that long ago. Her first crush. She’d stared at him before and wondered what it’d be like what it would have felt like-- but Ludo was Ludo, and she was sure that she wasn’t Ludo’s type. (No, but Carter surely was.) Amycus though-- Amycus was something else entirely. When he looked at her it made her feel needed, like she was the first piece of solace to walk his way after the storm. Did that make her selfish? Enjoying that feeling? She was the only one he gave a valentine to and certainly that meant something, didn’t it? "Oh trust me I can be real embarrassing.” She told him, thinking of all the moments she had embarrassed herself this far and how many times she almost had far worse. “Just wait, you’ll see. Carter says I’m a cry baby.” 

Because she was, and she’d grown to be okay with that fact. The more shame she felt for it the worse it felt, she learned that around third year. Especially when it came to mean girls, because making someone cry seemed to be their favorite and she’d always been an easy target. “We--” she repeated after him, feeling her heart tug in confusion. we think they’re lesser beings. He just said that, so did that mean he thought she was a lesser person? Because even if Amycus liked her, her non magical heritage ran deeper than her magic. She could survive without it. Had wanted for a really long time to survive without it. Before she could tell him that isn’t very nice his hands were sliding onto the barrel, nearly grazing her thighs. He was so close to her she could taste the ashes of hell. That’s what her mother had told her when she was younger, that boys like him tasted of hell. That boys like him had the devil in them and if there’s one thing that she’d learned about the devil it was that he was once an angel. Once his beauty was pure, it was untarnished by his greed and his pride and he didn’t use it to lure girls like her in. Amycus was saying something, what was he saying. Was he getting closer to her, or was she losing consciousness from holding her breath too long? 

“I do sing, yes but--” she tried to reply, but he was staring down at her in a way that caused adrenaline to flood all of her senses. Her hand raised to her chest, clutching the dainty silver cross she wore every day. This was happening, Amycus was leaning towards her and she felt her eyes close. 5. She thought, because counting down always helped build courage. But courage to do what? Let him kiss me? Oh Rosemary Appleebee this is N O T you. 4. If he kisses me before one I’ll let him. If he kisses me before one it was supposed to happen. 3. This isn’t how this is supposed to be happening this isn’t supposed to be happening. 2. If mama saw me right now she’d have a fit-- this isn’t how this is supposed to be happening. Dear lord I rebuke these thoughts-- 1. Her eyes fluttered open and she thought she could feel Amycus breathing. “NO!” She exclaimed as she slid from the barrel and pushed him backwards. It took her several seconds to catch the breath she’d been holding in her throat. “I told you I’m not just some girl--”

[closedrosemary-blog1]

carrow-amycus:

It seemed like Rosemary was having a hard time meeting his eyes, and he wondered if he had offended her by lifting her up onto the barrel. She’d hugged him and healed him before so he figured that it wouldn’t have caused too much of a problem. Perhaps it was more intimate of a touch than he’d thought, and he’d crossed a line with her. Where was the line? With Narcissa he could hug her tight and lift her right up off of her feet. With Rita he could swing his arm over her shoulders as they walked down the halls. With Rosemary he felt tentative. Like she was made of glass and just a simple touch from him would cause her to shatter. That all of the weight he carried on his shoulders would try to roll off of him and onto her, making him unbearable to be around. He was standing in front of her now, and he wondered if he should stay in that spot or sit beside her. The image of him shifting closer to, moving to stand between her legs flashed through his mind and he quickly tried to blink it away. 

For a second, Amycus began to worry that it the image wouldn’t disappear until he did move closer to her, but her question was enough to make him see clearly again. His eyebrows raised in surprise and he mulled over her question. Carter wasn’t someone he was ever close with, and he felt bad that he couldn’t give her more of an insight. He’d seen her interact with his friends though. “Um,” the boy hesitated, running his fingers back through his hair, “I’m not all that close to her, but from what I’ve seen… A bit of an attitude on her? Not in a bad way though. She can be quite sarcastic, it’s usually pretty amusing. Usually gets on well with the house despite being a-” he went to say half-blood. Amycus wasn’t as repulsed by half-bloods are others were. It wasn’t their fault that somewhere down the family line people had decided to branch off with muggles. Carter and Rosemary were half-blood, Rita and Severus, too. “American,” Amycus finally finished the thought with a small smile. “Why do you ask?” He asked in return, his curiosity piqued. 

It startled Rosemary how she could feel her heartbeat quicken as he moved closer to her. Her knees began to shake, so she set her drink beside her and she clamped her hands over them while listening to what he had to say. He was pausing and she knew why. Despite being a half-blood was most likely what he meant to say, but then he was finishing with American and she had to thank him for at least trying. “Because I don’t really know her anymore.” Rosemary replied a little sadly, taking an opportunity to glance down at her feet. “I think she’s afraid I’ll embarrass her in front of you guys--” she had to pause for a moment, because she knew saying it allowed sounded ridiculous but it was how she felt and to her it was real. “so we don’t really talk at school and she’s always mad at home. I think she hates my mom for not tellin’ her we had magic but I don’t.” Rosemary shrugged, sliding her hands up from her knees to grab her drink once more. 

Hearing that Carter wasn’t that close to Amycus felt like a relief though. It made it feel more real, this friendship with Amycus. Like she wasn’t just chasing after her sister or he didn’t feel obliged to be nice to her because of Carter. It settled that raging fear in the back of her mind that Carter had touched the same lips she caught herself staring at right now. Silence surrounded them for a moment so Rosemary brought the drink to her lips to keep herself from filling it stupidly. “What was it like?” She asked him once she finally lowered her cup. “You know, growin’ up with magic? Knowin’ about it, and stuff? I mean we were always taught that witchcraft--” even now, years after, the word left her mouth feeling dirty. “--was evil. The non-magical folk back home would accuse you of sellin’ your soul to the devil for the littlest of things. They’re always really suspicious of where me and Carter go every year.”

[closedrosemary-blog1]

carrow-amycus:

By Rosemary’s smile and tone, he could tell that she was teasing him when she asked if that made her special. He stared at her wide eyed for a moment, because it did. It did make her something special that out of all the people he held close, that he told himself he loved, he didn’t get them anything or send them anything. But for some reason when Valentine’s Day rolled along, he thought of her and that confused him to no end. So it did make her special, but he couldn’t let the word yes leave his mouth. Then she was answering his question and Amycus felt a flicker of something when she mentioned the name Benjy Fenwick. Jealousy? Self-consciousness? He hadn’t gotten her anything, and Benjy was sending her paintings, his note must’ve seemed stupid in comparison. Even with Rosemary explaining that it was nothing, he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Yes they do,” he told her quietly, his eyebrows lightly pulled together. Of course guys looked at her like that. With her long blonde hair, dimpled smile, and accent as smooth as honey. She was also undeniably beautiful, and so of course they did, even if she didn’t know it. 

“I guess that makes me feel a bit better about showing up empty handed,” Amycus half smiled before watching her sad attempt of lifting herself onto the barrel. She seemed to have given up, and he set his cup down beside where she was trying to sit before hesitantly placing his hands on her waist. Normally he would’ve warned her that he was about to give her a boost, but his mind and his mouth weren’t working well together at the moment so he gently lifted her off of her feet and placed her sitting down on the barrel. He took her cup and re-filled it with tea, steam rising as soon as it left the thermos and placed it gently in her hands, “Do you want a blanket or something? I might still have the one from our picnic in my bag. Might take me a bit to find it, one of the many downfalls of having an enchanted backpack.”

Rosemary felt nearly relieved that he didn’t reply to her, because no reply was better than a reply that could make her cry. She did that far too easily, and somehow managed to make it this far without crying in front of him and didn’t want to go and mess it up now. Crying was probably a foreign thing to him, and she’d learned by now that foreign things made him uncomfortable. But then as he argued what she’d said, that yes they do look at her she felt her face defy her and blush a deep shade of red. Do you? She wondered to herself, but she felt like a deer in headlights, staring blindly at something while hoping the impact didn’t throttle her. She was speechless, struggling to find words to respond with. Then his hands were on her waist and she didn’t know what he was doing and his fingers were curling into her skin and before she could get a grasp on what was happening she was sitting on the barrel and the cup was out of her hands.

Her skin burned where his hands had been, and for a moment she was convinced they were still there. For a moment she almost wished they had been so that she could figure out what it felt like and-- she swallowed hard. A wave of shame washed over her and she began to quickly straighten out her clothes. “I--” the cup was given back to her and she stared down into the contents. “No. I don’t need anything.” Her voice was quieter now, suddenly she felt hyper aware of herself, of how she felt, of Amycus and the way he looked out here surrounded by the snow and the way his hands scorched something sinful into her. She was running prayers through her mind as she brought her eyes back to him. “What is Carter like? Around you guys, I mean.” She asked quietly, because it was the first change of subject she could think of and she needed to forget about what his hands felt like on her waist.

[closedrosemary-blog1]

carrow-amycus:

This was one of those moments where if Amycus Carrow was one to blush, his cheeks would surely be a nice shade of pink at that moment. There were only a select few moments when he felt flattered. For instance, Narcissa asking him to walk her down the aisle. Now, with Rosemary wanting to make him something not out of obligation, but just because he was her friend. His eyes widened slightly at her comment and he let out a short chuckle. “Me? No, not really,” he gave a shrug of his shoulders and smiled at her. “I got a valentine from Narcissa, but she’s not an admirer, just a friend. It’s no big deal though. The only one I sent out was,” Amycus’s voice wavered a little as he realized how odd the words he was saying were, “t-to you.” This must’ve been the umpteenth time he had done something he would consider deviated for himself when it came to Rosemary. He wondered what her reaction was when she read the piece of paper. Part of her must’ve liked it enough to still meet up with him.

“What about you though?” Amycus asked quickly, wanting the subject off of himself. “I’m sure you received loads more valentines, probably chocolates too,” he took another cup out of his bag, pouring some of the tea into it before taking a sip. The warm liquid was a nice distraction from him having to talk more because truth be told, he didn’t know how to do this. All of his friends were ones he had since childhood or had at least known since the early year of school. Rosemary was different in so many ways, he wasn’t sure how to act around her. 

Narcissa Black (all the Black sisters, really) terrified Rosemary to her core. Bellatrix scared her the worst, but there was something about ruthless about Narcissa all the same. Of course she knew they were friends but hearing it reiterated only made it that much more real. Before she had time to worry needlessly anymore about it something in her melted and she was beaming up at him. “Me?” She asked, her dimples shining through. “Well does that make me somethin’ special then?” She teased, quite uncharacteristically. She realized what she said and braced herself, braced herself to be embarrassed or ridiculed or something. She thought by now this would feel more stable, but every time she looked at him all she could think about was how sad she’d be if he turned his back on her now. 

"Benjy Fenwick gave me a painting, but he didn’t paint it.” She told him before pausing. Should she have not done that? What if he thought she liked Benjy in that kind of way? “But it’s nothing, I mean boys don’t look at me like that.” She told him quickly, covering her tracks as she went. Because it wasn’t like that and boys very seldom looked at her like that. There might have been a few, but usually they were only testing her limits to go back and laugh with the rest of their friends about. That mostly stopped after fifth year when they realized her will was unrelenting. It wouldn’t happen. “Wendy got me somethin’ too, but I’m not huge on receivin’ gifts. I like givin’ them way more.” A small shiver ran through her as a gust of wind blew snow around them. Looking around, she tried to hoist herself to sit on the top of a barrel. After a few embarrassing attempts she kicked at the snow behind her. I wish we could go somewhere- she thought sadly, before reminding herself this was secret.

[closedrosemary-blog1]

chcrrybcmb:

Bless her sister’s heart, bless it, because even throughout all of this agony Carter knew she was causing her the girl wanted to help her. Despite this all, despite the fact that Carter was just a little bit drunk still, Rosemary was willing to help her. She knew her sister didn’t deserve the flack she got, she knew she didn’t deserve to be this middle woman, but Carter also knew that she was selfish. Her selfishness had saved her but at home there wasn’t a place for it when her sister was involved. Sighing, she started to get up, wobbling a bit, “fine, Rose, fine. Because I love you, I’ll get up. But why can’t you just understand how I feel?? For once?? I just – I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not sorry for who I am and I feel like it’s all y’all want me to be is sorry. Sorry all the time and just – ” she didn’t finish but what she meant to say was miserable. It was like they wanted her to be M I S E R A B L E. 

Rosemary felt her face go white as Carter began to sling words at her. “What?” She asked, as she steadied her sister and began to battle away at her hair with a brush. Can’t you understand how I feel, for once?? Something bottomed out in her stomach but she continued working through the tangles of her sisters hair. “I have never asked you to be sorry for who you are, Charlotte.” Rosemary snapped, trying to suppress the emotion building in her. Carter never cared enough to tell her how she felt. She’d made her new life with the Slytherins and that was that. Rosemary felt like she lost her sister ages ago and there was nothing she could do about it. “You’re still drunk.” She whispered softly, pulling the wild red locks into braids. “And I know how you feel you feel trapped and you feel misunderstood and you feel guilty. But believe it or not you’re real bad at fakin’ things and we all know you hate this place and all the people here. You aren’t foolin’ no one, and not everything is about you. Our grandparents are in the livin’ room and they want to hear us sing, they’re old now. As in this could be the last Christmas we have with them and you already missed morning service so can’t you please just try and enjoy the rest of Christmas with us?”

[closedrosemary-blog1]

mckinnonaf:

Marlene had still been slightly distracted by the updated diagram of a manticore found in the south of Wales—an altogether highly unusual location to find one, so she rather suspected poaching or personal breeding, which was concerning and infuriating—but something about Rosemary’s tone and the way she was looking at her managed to get Marlene to shake her thoughts, or at least, set them aside for a moment. “Yeah, sure,” she said, a touch of concern in her tone, her expression automatically softening as she looked at her. “What’s up?”

Marlene was intimidating. She always had been, although she’d never done anything that warranted Rosemary to feel so intimidated. She wasn’t sure why she was even here, asking her these things when she knew they could be construed negatively. It felt too assuming, but she wasn’t sure who else to talk to. “So...” Rosemary began quietly, trying to muster the power to push her questions from her lungs. “I have this friend in, um.... in Slytherin.” Her eyes widened at the word Slytherin. “And he’s really nice to me, but he isn’t--” she almost back out. This wasn’t Marlene’s problem. She had enough to worry about. “He isn’t so nice to other people. Can someone teach another person to be kind? That’s what I’m meaning to ask... I know you used to be close to some-- I mean, I’ve heard the rumors. They can get better, can’t they? It doesn’t seem like they got many people to actually confide in and that makes me sad.” 

[closedrosemary-blog1]

carrow-amycus:

His brows pulled together slightly as she held something out to him, and he accepted it with a curious smile. Amycus listened to Rosemary explain how she made it herself, he wasn’t exactly sure what it was– but as someone who almost always gave handcrafted presents, he appreciated the sentiment greatly. The boy’s smile grew as she mentioned needle work, and he was able to put two and two together. By hand, she had cross stitched his name in what appeared to be baby’s breath. The work was beautiful, and he was impressed by it, even if magic hadn’t been involved. “Thank you, Rosemary. It’s lovely,” he looked up at her with a sincere smile, “You really didn’t have to make me anything…” Amycus immediately felt bad that he hadn’t made anything or gotten her anything besides tea. 

He tucked the present into his bag and frowned slightly. “I haven’t got anything for you, I’m sorry… If I’d known you were, I’d brought something else besides tea.” With weary slowness, he raised his hand to brush his fingers over the ends of her hair, using a feather light tug to make the curl he was holding bounce, “Your hair looks nice like this.”

Rosemary had always been a horrible horrible liar. Even with her feelings, they were impossible to mask or contain so as she saw the flicker of approval on his face she felt a wildfire ignite her smile and she lit up. “Well I wasn’t gonna leave you out.” She told him softly, bringing the cup to her lips. She wondered if he chose this drink because he thought she’d like it. It certainly didn’t seem like something he’d drink out of choice. As he continued to speak her smile only grew. Because he thought she expected something back? No-- although the notion did seem incredibly laughable to her. “I don’t expect nothin’ back, don’t be silly now. I made it cause you’re my friend.”

But then this friend of hers was pulling on a curl she still couldn’t decide was for him or not. Some nagging voice ( one much like her mothers ) echoed through her mind that it would be foolish to do such a thing. Amycus liked girls that stalked their prey in heels higher than her dreams and wore smiles like barbed wire. Not girls like her. Besides, Rosemary didn’t date. The thought of it had always left an acidic taste in her mouth. Still, as he gave her the compliment she had the desire to wear her hair curly more often. “So tell me how your valentines day was.” She told him, switching the subject. “I bet you have all kinds of admirers.”

[closedrosemary-blog1]

tiberism:

     “ hey. ” he approached the girl at the till, a friendly smile on his features. he was behind her in the queue, waiting his turn patiently with his own puchase ( a scarf that changed different shades of blue depending on the weather ), but after overhearing her ANXIOUS stuttering he decided to step in and help. “ let me assist. ” tiberius glanced at the price tag then at the shopkeeper as he rummaged in his coat pocket for change. “ eleven sickles … erm … so that’s … four more sickles … there.” he withdrew his hand and emptied the small handful of coins onto the counter. he knew wizarding currency was hard for those in muggle families to get a grasp of ( even he got confused now and then ), so he didn’t blame her for deciding not to bother.

"N-no--” Rosemary began to object, feeling absolutely horrified in the moment. Pride is a toxin-- she reminded herself, because that’s what it felt like this came down to. Her mama always told her money bred pride and pride bred sin but when it was someone having to cover her change she couldn’t help but feel put out. She shot her gaze to the floor and grabbed the bag. “Thank you.” She croaked out, barely audible as they made their way out of the shop. “You didn’t-- you really didn’t have to do that and I’m going to pay you back once we get back to the castle but-- um, thanks. For that.”

[closedrosemary-blog1]

carrow-amycus:

Amycus felt a bit creepy standing across the way from Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, but he was waiting for it to be time to meet up with Rosemary. He wanted to give her some time to enjoy walking about Hogsmeade, so he requested to see her about an hour and a half after she arrived. There was an empty thermos in his hands, and a few minutes before it was time to head to the back of the building, he went inside. Avoiding eye contact with any of the couples in the room (though he was sure they were all too preoccupied to notice him), he asked for his thermos to be filled with the finest tea they had. The decorations in the tea shop were over the top and bloody awful. After paying for the tea, he quickly headed out the backdoor unnoticed. The Slytherin didn’t spot Rosemary right away, but when he rounded a corner, there she stood. Her hair curled into perfect tendrils, her lips shining from some sort of makeup, and her nose and cheeks red from the cold. “It’s me,” he replied as he came clear into view. 

With a timid smile, he poured the hot liquid into the cup part of the thermos and held it out to her, “Sorry for making you wait. I figured we should having something hot to drink,” he nodded over to Madam Puddifoot’s, “It’s caramel velvet, I think it’s called.”

Rosemary tried to hold the valentine behind her back as she looked up at Amycus. The nerves in her stomach were replaced by guilt. Amycus had told her multiple times now that he wasn’t going to double cross her so why did she keep expecting him to? Biting down on her lip she took the cup and gave him a weak smile. “Caramel velvet, huh? That sounds real fancy.” She told him teasingly. With a quick clearing of her throat, she handed him what she’d stitched for him. “So I made uh-- I made all of my friends something this year like Elena got socks and Wendy got gloves but I didn’t think you’d be so quick to you know, wear something hand made...” She told him, her voice trailing off as she searched his face for a reaction. It was stupid-- she suddenly felt completely incompetent in front of him because he probably received all kinds of expensive gifts his friends.

“I know, it’s-- not your thing.” She told him, as if letting him off the hook if he didn’t like it. “Don’t you let Carter see it though, she knows my needle work. She’d know.”

[closedrosemary-blog1]

alectovcarrow:

“That sure didn’t stop you from barging in, did it?” Alecto asked, holding the glass of wine she was drinking. She wasn’t hiding exactly, but she didn’t want to share with Bellatrix so she had decided to have her drink in an empty classroom.

Alecto felt like perhaps the most intimidating Slytherin she could have walked in on. She knew things, secret things about the harshness of her and her brothers home life. About how there were reasons to fear people like them and Rosemary was terrified Alecto could detect her fear. “I-- I’m sorry, I just lost something in here earlier-- I didn’t think anyone would be in here.” What if Alecto hated her? What if she could see straight through her or already knew that she was friends with her brother? What if she told him that she wasn’t worthy of being his friend?

[closedrosemary-blog1]

franklbtm:

   He massaged his temples, throwing the quill across the table. NEWTs were harder than expected for him, drawing his energy to the minimum those past couple of days. Frank cupped his face in his hand, and once he heard a female name, he peaked in between his fingers, smiling softly. “Nah, I’m fine, you don’t interrupt anything.“

“So you don’t mind if I sit down? It’s either you or--” she paused, glancing to the table of fourth year Slytherin’s glaring at everyone around them. “You seem much more friendly.”

[closedrosemary-blog1]

“Come on Amycus...” Rosemary whispered against the harsh winds blowing through Hogsmeade. Standing behind the tea shop felt sketchy, like any shady character could emerge from the shadows to snatch her up. Her valentine for him was tucked tightly under her arm, a cross stitch with baby breath that spelled out his name. Cheesy, and probably far too feminine for his taste but it felt good to make. There was something satisfying about spending time watching his name come to life. Her nerves were building in her chest, making it hard to breathe. What if he cancels? What if I’m standing here for nothing? What if-- for a moment an unsettling thought came to mind. Did I curl my hair this morning because I knew I would see him today? Is that why I borrowed Wendy’s light pink lipgloss with the sparkles? No. No, of course it wasn’t. She did it because she wanted to, that’s all. 

Fiddling with her hands, she heard a noise coming from around the corner and stiffened. “Amycus? Am-- is that you?”

@carrow-amycus

[closedrosemary-blog1]

“I’m so sorry-- how many sickles did you say that was?” Rosemary asked, trying to repress the growing panic in her head as she realized she was short of money. Wizarding currency confused her greatly, so it wasn’t a surprise she got it wrong. Students stood behind her, shifting from foot to foot impatiently as hot emotion began to twist her throat closed. “Can I just-- can I go put these back?” She asked the shopkeeper quietly.

[closedrosemary-blog1]

fenjybenjy:

“Oh, no no you didn’t.” Benjy shook his head as he turned around quickly, and ended up tripping over his own ankles. Luckily he managed to not fall. “Smooth.” He laughed at his own embarrassment. 

“Oh heavens-- are you okay Benjy?” Rosemary asked, her attention snapping forward to the boy. “Did you roll your ankle? Can you-- you’re okay?”

[closedrosemary-blog1]

carrow-amycus:

Continuously shifting his weight on the balls of his feet, Amycus studied Rosemary’s reaction. Her cheeks were red and he wasn’t sure if it was because she was flattered or because she was fuming that he was trying to talk to her again. Maybe she had time to think about their last conversation and realized that he was bad after all and that she needed to stay far away from him. But after a short stammer, she had said yes. A breath of relief bypassed his lips which nearly twitched into a smile. His brows raised when she asked him where he had gotten the food only to scratch the question. Where did she think he would’ve gotten it? “Okay,” he nodded. He’d learned from last time that he shouldn’t walk at his normal pace so he could let Rosemary keep up with him. The Slytherin wasn’t that much taller than her, but he took long strides. Mostly, because he knew that if he moved slowly in the hallways then he’d end up being stopped or people would find it okay to go slow in front of him. In his normal pace, it was like the other students could just sense his approach, and they moved out of the way as if an avalanche was headed straight towards them. Amycus led her the short distance to the hidden hallway and up a different spiral staircase. This circular landing was painted with different colors from the sunlight leaking in through the stained glass windows. 

Amycus knelt down on the ground and opened up the bag, whispering a spell to it. Out from the bag flew a blanket, unrolling itself and revealing a perfectly set up spread of finger foods and desserts, the fizzy drinks quietly bubbling in their bottles. “I got it from the kitchens. Paid a house elf for their work,” Amycus mumbled. He knew that she said that it didn’t matter, but if she felt the need to ask in the first place then surely it did. Normally, he would just plunder through whatever the kitchens held and take whatever he wanted. But it was for Rosemary, and he wasn’t going to give her food that he had just taken on his own accord. No, he paid the house elf nicely for the food and her work. He wasn’t trying to get any sort of praise for the action, but he just figured she should know. “Do you want to give me whatever it is before or after we eat?” Amycus asked, shifting so he laid on his side on the blanket which was rather large in being able to fit both him and Rosemary as well as the food and drinks.

Rosemary felt her eyebrow quirk as Amycus told her that he paid the house elves for their work. That was an unexpected answer, one that for a moment made her press her lips into a thin line. She wondered what kind of financial background he came from. It was hard to tell within the wizarding world for her. What she did know was that his friends were all loaded. She’d heard stories of what their houses-- mansions to her looked like. Ballrooms and dining halls and all kinds of stuff. “Do you-- does your family keep house elves?” She asked, figuring that was the best way to inquire both his financial status and whether or not he supports the enslavement of elves. She sat down on the thin fabric lining their little picnic, and smoothed her skirt down with the palms of her hands. “I’ve heard that lots of real old families like your have some that get passed down for generations and generations. The only things I really know though are about what I read or have heard from others. The house elves here don’t seem too keen on keepin’ my company.” She told him softly, reaching deeply into her own bag.

When her hand emerged, it was clasped tightly around the kaleidoscope. “It’s nothin’ fancy, but--” she paused, looking down at it. Pushing it towards him, she noticed he’d laid down and her breath hitched in her throat. Was he always this casual? She felt stiff and rigid and nervous in comparison. “You’ve gotta look through it, and you can turn it each different way-- I mean it’s kind of lame and it is a muggle thing so I understand if you don’t want it-- I just thought it’d make you think about the windows you like so much.” She told him quietly, her eyes scanning his face trying read any kind of reaction to the gift. After a moment, she swallowed and looked down at the food. Anything to distract her from the knots in her stomach.