Romeo & Juliet
Everybody knows the story of Romeo and Juliet, a love so powerful, a love designed by fate. My name is Rose Weasley and I am going to tell you another story, my story. A story about Scorpius Malfoy, the star-crossed love of my life.
Our story starts on the 1ste of September. I was on my way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the excitement was uncontainable. Thought after thought raced through my mind. I’d finally get to see the castle with its many turrets and towers and eat in the Great Hall (something my dad told me all about, try the treacle tart – a tip from uncle Harry) and I’d get to have classes (something mum never stops talking about). I was especially looking forward to Transfiguration, the art of turning one thing into another! I’d get owl post, learn to make objects fly, sleep in my four-poster bed in the dormitory, wear my scarlet and gold, watch Quidditch. I’d get to visit Hagrid in his hut out in the grounds and have tea with uncle Neville and listen to his many fascinating stories, like when he was nearly bitten by the Venomous Tentacula or that time he was almost strangled by Devil’s Snare. I was finally going to be a Hogwarts student!
I stood listening to the hooting of owls, the purr of the many coloured cats and to the steam pouring from the scarlet steam engine train. “Make sure you beat him in every test Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother’s brains” my dad was saying and the sound of my name bought me back to reality. “Ron, for heaven’s sake” mom was saying with a half smile. “Don’t try to turn them against each other before they’ve even started school!” “You’re right, sorry” dad said giving mom his most placating smile. “Don’t get too friendly with him through Rosie”. Through a gap in the crowd I could see who my father was referring too. There stood a little family of three, the woman was rake thin and had her dark hair pulled into a knob at the base of her neck. The man next to her wore a dark coat buttoned up to his throat; his hand resting on a cane topped with the head of a serpent and with them stood a boy who had to be about my age. He had inherited his father’s silvery white hair and wore a haughty expression that made him look wealthy and renowned. “Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood”.
I saw him again a couple of hours later as he hurried up the step and sat on the stool, his blonde head disappearing underneath the Sorting Hat. Scorpius Malfoy was sorted into Slytherin, I was sorted into Gryffindor.