You know when one of your parents are upset, and everyone in the house knows to walk on eggshells for a little bit? Well similar things were happening to the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.
Except, it wasn't their parents, it was captain Aveline Rosier who was making their practices a living hell. We're talking running around the field till they wanted to throw up. The girl finding a new found intensity for the sport.
"This year we are coming back winners or we won't be coming back at all," she told her team as they were in the dressing room.
"What? You gonna kill us?" Dorcas joked.
She told them was reinventing the way things were run. Coming up with a hole new extensive list of plays and strategies, that she made then study till their eyes hurt. As last year Gryffindor won the cup, Aveline was turning it up many notches.
She somehow managed to talk them into getting the field every morning at 5am. Which was great for her— who somehow woke up with enough energy to run practice five times over again.
The hufflepuffs would drag themselves to the field clutching half pieces of toast and cups of coffee. Eyebags heavy and distant dreamy looks in their eyes as if they were still dreaming.
Only to find their captain, looking awake as ever already doing jumping jacks in the dressing room.
"Good morning team! This is going to be an excellent, wonderful practice!" she would cheer energetically, and not a single person would respond.
Dorcas tried to suggest they slow down on the practice one time. The mere suggestion gave Aveline such a bad eye twitch no one suggested it again. It looked like she was about to snap, like some sort of angry 12 year old boy.
"I don't care if you have to throw yourself off your broom Johnson! Get me that snitch!"
It got to the point where they just did what she said. For one she was simply Aveline Rosier, and for two they didn't want their heads chopped off.
It was one day when she was sitting in transfiguration beside Mary. Looking down at her reading with little actual interest in it. Mcgonagall left the room for a moment, and as she did James slinked over. Tapping on Aveline's desk to get her attention.
"Aveline," he hissed. She looked up giving him a raised eyebrow and bored expression.
"What? Your disturbing my reading!"
"Oh knock it off. I want to know how you got all those practice time slots! And what are you up too? I saw two of your players crying well studying a book of plays yesterday," he talked accusingly, no doubt wanting to know what she had up her sleeve for the upcoming season.
If anyone could relate to the Hufflepuff players it was the Gryffindor team. Who were trying survive the wrath of James Potter, who was possibly more crazy when it came to Quidditch then Aveline.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" she taunted with an amused little smirk.
At the moment Mcgonagall walked in, sighing as she saw James crouched at Aveline's desk. Disturbing the peace as always.
"Potter back to your desk!" she barked automatically in her usual stern tone.
"Sorry Minnie," he shrugged, standing up. "I'm just trying to get Hufflepuff's Quidditch strategy out of her."
"Oh," Mcgonagall replied. "Carry on then Mr Potter."
And so, James did just that. Spending the better portion of the class poking her in the face and trying to get any information out of her. It got to the point Mary just up and told him he could have her seat— that's how annoyed she was with him. Leaving Aveline to sit next to a pestering James Potter.
"Will you shut up?" she snapped at him, pushing away her textbook.
"As Headboy, tell me your strategy or I'll give you detention!"
"You can't do that!" she replied with wide eyes and a gasp.
"Yes I can. It's in the handbook."
"What handbook?"
"The Headboy handbook. You wouldn't know because you aren't headboy. Tell me."
"Suck my dick Potter."
As seventh years this year, it was very important to both of them to win the cup. Similar to the rest of seventh years, though the two captains seemed to be particularly worked up by it. It was very entertaining for everyone to watch, especially the duos friends who were watching the conversation like it was a movie. Sirius and Marlene making bets on whether the fight was going to get violent.
When class was over they walked down the hall bickering in similar fashion. James still trying to use his headboy power to get her to give up the information. He ended up following her to her next class— Charms which he was not in with her.
"Come on Aveline, I let you stay at my house!" James snarled with his arms crossed.
Quidditch really brought out the worst in them.
"Sorry if my parents trying to make me a child bride was inconvenient to you."
"Fine Rosier! Be difficult! But don't expect me to hold back on the field, your going down. I'm not afraid to crush you till you bleed!"
This was particularly comedic to Aveline that James Potter— with a heart the size of a lake— was threatening to crush her. Quidditch brought out a persons demons.
"Okay that's enough mate," Sirius cut in, grabbing James by the shoulders and pulling him away, sending Aveline a wink.
There was no hard feelings or genuine fight. In fact, they would probably meet up later and be their usual giggling selves together. It was just Quidditch required trash talk— especially if you were friends. It was part of the spirit of the game.
_____________________
It was a random Tuesday afternoon. One of those days that seemed so mundane, that something interesting couldn't possibly happen. A day that dragged down as if it was made of heavy wet sand. Making them all pray for classes to be over.
Aveline sat during dinner with the Gryffindors. Sitting inbetween James and Lily, putting as much distance between herself and a certain werewolf she was still barely talking too. They weren't obviously in a feud, they didn't openly fight or yell at eachother. They simply just didn't talk. As if they had never been close in the first place.
Sometimes Aveline would catch him looking at her. The moment she turned her head he'd look away as if he'd been shocked. Acting as if he didn't even notice her. It was driving her almost mad, she had a half a mind to just go up and talk to him, though she worried he didn't even care too.
She was listening to Lily rant about house elf rights, when she looked up towards the door.
Who did she?
Evan Rosier— the boy who had been off the grid for the better part of September. Strolling in the great hall as if he had never even not been there.
To put it quite simply, Evan looked like he had aged years. His hair already thinning due to intense stress, chopped short in a buzz cut close to his head. His wide eyes were a little too wide, beady and dark as they scanned over the great hall. He also looked much too thin, as if he hadn't had a real meal in days, the boy walking beside Regulus Black as they talked quietly to themselves.
Aveline knew he was a horrible person. She knew he was a death eater who caused families more pain then he could ever make up for. He could repent his sins, turn over a new leaf but he was still a murderer.
Though a part of her heart— the part of her heart that was soft and delicate like decaying spring moss— couldn't see any of that when she looked at him. All she saw was her brother. Her brother who would sneak her toast from the table, and would sit with him at their mothers bed side when she was sleeping. Her brother who tried his best to protect her.
Protecting her even if meant ripping out part of his soul for her.
Guilt was clawing at her as if it was parasite in her body. Moving around and squeezing her till it felt as if it was draining her of everything. Perhaps she could've prevented this. She could've been the one to hold him when needed a hug, the person he could talk too so he didn't go down this path. A million scenarios went through her mind telling her what she did wrong. Perhaps she should've went to their mothers funeral, found a way to be there for him when was fighting so many demons.
Their parents may have failed them— raised them in a hateful environment absent of love as Jupiter is air— but Aveline knew in her heart she failed her brother.
Her twin who was supposed to be her ride or die, turned into a twisted young man full of hate and greed. Turned into the carbon copy of the worsts parts of their parents, till Evan now was visibly unrecognizable as Evan then.
It's fairly easy to pretend that people like Evan— the horrible, the selfish, the mean— were born that way. And Perhaps Evan Rosier was more inclined to fall into those types of traits. Something in his genetics or dna that made he predisposed to evil perhaps.
She found herself wondering how he did it. Murdered people in cold blood. For as she stared at him, he didn't look any different then any other kid in the great hall.
And mostly, she felt resentment. Imagining what she would feel if some monster took someone she loved from her in cold blood. James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, Marlene any of them— if someone took them from her like Evan was dojng with peoples loved ones, she couldn't imagine the pain in her heart.
The thought that, that type of person was her twin brother was horrid.
"Aveline?" James nudged her as she stared off into the distance in deep thought, trying to get her attention.
"I'll be back Sirius," she muttered to James, her mind in such a whirlwind she didn't even notice.
They watched as the girl stood up, walking across the great hall straight to the Slytherin table. The whole great hall, was actually watching. Especially the group of snickering Slytherins that watched her approach. As if she was entering some sort of predators den.
The closer she got to Evan the more her heart lurched. His face almost looked skull like, his cheek bones too defined and eyes staring at her were mere dark orbs.
"Brother," she greeted formally.
"Sister," he snapped back having zero patients.
They just stared at eachother for a moment. Twins but somehow polar opposites. Aveline standing there with her wild hair, torn up muggle shoes and chunky muggle jewelry. Her uniform shirt not tucked in, her tie loose on her neck. And Evan with his shirt that looked pressed and iron. His uniform perfect right down to his shiny black shoes.
"I would like a word with you," she told him, making her voice sound stern and official.
He snorted, crossing his arms and narrowing us eyebrows. "Well go on talk then."
The one thing about siblings, is that no matter how much time goes by it isn't hard to be able to read eachother like a book. Evan could tell Aveline was serious by her expression and body langauge, and Aveline could tell Evan was more bothered by her presence then he was letting on.
Aggressively Evan stood up, making his way out of the great hall without a word. Aveline scurrying after him knowing that was her sign to follow.
One of the things Evan had in common with their father was his ability to command a room. Even in his terrifying state when he walked people practically threw themselves out of the way for him. His energy radiating off of him that way light does too stars.
He kept walking till he threw open the door of an empty classroom. Instantly turning on her with a pissed off expression on his face.
"Why do you continue to embarrass me?"
He seethed, his voice weak and giving by the breaks in it. Like he was borderline always about to cry, but couldn't find a way to choke out the tears. "You have ruined my life Aveline, the least you can do is leave me the fuck alone from now on."
The words hit her in the heart. As if he had shot them with a needle gun and they penetrated her skin till they flowed through her veins. Making her throat fill with that spring of tears that threatened to break on instant. As if he merely just had flicked a switch.
"I just wanted to see you how your doing," she said in a small voice, wrapping her arms around herself. "I'm so sorry Evan. I'm so sorry for everything. I ca-"
"Shut the fuck up!" he cut her off with anger in his voice, taking a deep breath as if he was trying to hold it in.
She could almost see the rage beneath his skin. As if was a fiery thing trying to break out form beneath him. Raw and red and all consuming, as his hands shaked and body trembled.
"You need to shut up," he said again, and it sounded as a warning. As he pinched the bridge of his nose and stared up at the ceiling. "I don't give a fuck anymore Aveline about what you get yourself into. You can fuck mudbloods and halfbloods. Run around dressed like a dirty muggle— I don't give a single flying fuck. It's your fault our mothers dead, it's your fault our fathers in Azkaban, and it's your fault I have nothing now."
He was pacing, not even daring to look at her as he did. He shook as if he was some bomb waiting to go off. The whole time not a single point in his body wasn't trembling.
There was such an intense vulnerability in his body language that Aveline couldn't help but to find tears falling down her face. The girl sniffling as she tried to hold them back. She didn't even have anything to say. Couldn't find the words to tell her she sorry for something she didn't know how to explain. Certainly it would've taken novels worth of words to explain to him that this wasn't how things weren't meant to be.
"There you go with your fucking crying," he snapped again, taking a deep breath.
"Evan I'm just worried—"
"Worried?" He asked, and the began hysterically laughing. Throwing his head back like an absolute maniac chuckling till his lungs burnt. "You're ridiculous. As if you ever have gave a shit about anyone in this family but yourself. You ruined us. What am I supposed to do now Aveline? Huh?"
He roared at her, turning to look at her as she looked down at the floor, tears dripping down her eyes.
"What do you want to do?" He continued. "Even if I wanted too I couldn't get a job after we graduate. You ruined that. Our Father is probably going to end up killing himself because what you've done. Never once did you stop to think about what you were doing to us. Riding your ego with a stick up your ass."
"I couldn't..." her voice broke, trembling.
"You couldn't what huh? Are you that fucking stupid you can't even speak?"
It was like digging inside herself, finding the string she needed to pull to find a bit of courage in herself. A moment paced as she she, the girl taking a shaky breath as she looked up at Evan.
"Call me whatever you want Evan. Call me selfish, call me a bitch— I don't give a shit. But at least I can sleep at night knowing I'm not a disgusting death eater who kills innocent people," she spoke calmly, staring at him a she did.
He went to open his mouth but she snapped her hand, motioning for him to shut up.
"Maybe I didn't do everything perfectly. And I need you to know that I really did love and care about you. But I will never stop trying to burn your little fucking blood purity club to the ground. And if that means taking down every single Rosier along the way— then I'll do what I need to do."
She could've sworn she saw tears threaten to spill in Evan's eyes. Looking down at her with so much hatred it look as if his blood was boiling.
"I hope you know this is it for us Aveline." He spoke quietly, his voice was and vulnerable. An octave higher then it usually was. "Once you fucking leave this room, I never want to talk to you again. Even if your dying, I want nothing to do with you."
She gulped, maintaining her come composure as she nodded.
"Alright," she said, bowing her head. "Goodbye then. I really do wish things could've been different."
He hesitated, his face frozen. She looked into how brown eyes, the same one he shared with their mother. How different he looked then from when she last saw him. He looked uncertain, jittery as if he was unpredictable.
"I hope you die in this war you bloodtraitor slut."
If that's how he was going to leave things, Aveline figured so be it. And she turned on her heels and marched herself out the door. Leaving every single ounce of respect or care she had left for her brother in the empty classroom along with him.
She didn't need him anyways. She had better family now.
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