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Summary
Being the Minister for Magic's daughter isn't easy. Not when she’s put on a pedestal, hates her job, and has a sinful crush on her best friend's father.
On Christmas Eve, Rose picks a new path, proving she's nothing like her overbearing mother.
“I'm the same age as your father.”
“Maybe you are my father…” Rose saunters toward him, decanter in hand. “With the way my mother looks at you — we can't be sure.”
Courtesy of her too-high heels, she trips, swearing like a sailor as dark liquor sloshes.
“No.” Draco gestures vaguely in her direction. “That's all Weasley.”
Or is she just like her?