An attempt at "The-GIRL-Who-Lived", challenge brought forth in deleterius...
Starts more by movieverse than bookverse; BV would basically be restating everything while inserting the words "She, her, Rose" instead of "He, his, Harry". I wanted to start with Dumbledore and all, but that again seemed redundant. It starts with Rose at "home" with the Dursleys, nearing her 11th birthday.
The knocking on Rose's door was harsher than usual, and she knew why. She fumbled in the darkness for her glasses, trying to gain her voice from its rested state. "Y-Yes?" she stammered, trying to clear the sleep from her throat.
"Up! Now!" Aunt Petunia called from behind the cellar door. "I won't have you lounging around when you have a birthday breakfast to tend to!"
Rose nodded, scratching the back of her head. "Yes, Aunt Petunia," she said in a blank voice. Hearing Petunia's footsteps rushing off from the door she flopped back on her bed for just one more moment. The interruption from above had startled her out of sleep, making her almost forget the dreams she'd been having, and they'd been particularly interesting. She'd had these sorts of dreams before, but this time was different. She could feel the scratching of the large bearded man, one that constantly dug into her sleeping brain to visit. She had no idea who he was or why she always dreamed of him, but he exuded something she rarely felt in waking hours: comfort. She smiled a little, finding inspiration to get up from the bed and stand to dress. Rose's feet slapped uncomfortably on the cold stone floor. She thought she'd be used to this by now, living amongst the family's unwanted items, lying around in boxes and old shelves. Just like her, really. Though as long as she kept thinking of the kind, full cheeks with the haunting smile looking down on her she would be able to get through the day.
She went to her dresser, opening it carefully. Since Dudley, her awful cousin had kicked the bottom two drawers in it had become her own. He'd gotten a new one that very day, even if he'd acted like a spoiled brat for not getting the new stereo he'd wanted for his last birthday. It was a sure bet that he would have a new one upstairs right now, seeing as the stereo he'd gotten for Christmas had already been damaged when a radio station hadn't come in clear enough for him. Rose almost felt bad for inanimate objects when Dudley was around.
After being sure she'd stabled the drawer so it wouldn't slip from its spot and fall, she knelt down to inspect her choices of clothing, which were pretty scanty. She didn't have many colors; the shirts she had were mostly faded green, tattered gray and one or two faded pinks. The pinks she'd gotten out of Petunia's embarrassment in carting around a young girl dressed in her older son's leavings. It had worked for a few years when she'd been young but as she grew they all gained looks. People who were kind enough to notice would see how well dressed and groomed Dudley would be, while his 'sister', as many inaccurately observed was dressed in ratty clothing. Her unruly dark brown hair would stick out from its general lack of care while Dudley looked like he'd gone to the barber shop every single morning. So from that day on Petunia forced herself to buy Rose clothing; even if it came from thrift shops, it was better than wearing Dudley's rags. At least they didn't have holes and hang off her body looking more like a deployed parachute than clothing. She'd worn out many belts in putting old slacks of his on, trying to keep them from falling off her hips. Her scalp itched more, knowing what would be coming next after she would emerge from the cold basement.
Once dressed in one of the pink shirts and old jeans she walked upstairs to the kitchen. Her uncle Vernon sat at the table, his round, splotchy cheeks moving slightly as he mouthed what he read in the newspaper. She had to avert her eyes; sometimes his chubbiness, jiggling the way it did would make her stare. Vernon would always glare at her, one eye narrowed more than the other as if warning her. She didn't need that this morning as she approached Petunia.
She turned to face Rose, arms crossing. "I'd told you to get up EARLY today, girl. Dudders will be coming any moment, and I've not one thing prepared yet!"
"It's just past seven, you told me I'd have to be up-"
"Are you sassing me?"
Rose stiffened. "No. No, Aunt Petunia. Let me take care of breakfast." she stated in the calmest voice she could muster. Petunia made a slight nod, her already small, thin lips pursed and going invisible. Her profile of a rat-like nose and flat cheeks faced her as Petunia walked away, going to the fridge. Rose sighed and turned to the pans, going to flip the sizzling hash browns to prevent burning. Nothing measured to the punishments of burnt food in this household.
The sudden door opening and slamming against the wall next to it sounded off, making Rose jump slightly. She didn't look around as she heard the sickening squeals coming from Petunia. "OH My Dudley-Dudders! Happy Birthday!!" she cooed, making Rose turn a bit to watch the sickening sight of Dudley's pouchy face, his nose now being rubbed by his mother's. Rose rolled her eyes and returned to preparing the rest of breakfast.
"Happy birthday, Son!" Vernon called out, folding his paper. Dudley wasn't interested in any family interaction; his bigger-than-should-be-allowed body turned on his heels and rushed towards the huge present pile Rose hadn't quite noticed. They all lie in the living room, one piled on top of the other, most of them huge and all wrapped up perfectly as if they'd been done in a department store. Rose turned fully, piling the hash browns and bacon onto the serving platters in the middle of the table.
"Isn't it wonderful??" Petunia asked in a high-pitched voice, clasping Dudley's shoulders. Dudley's face frowned as he surveyed the piles.
"How many are there?" he asked petulantly.
"Thirty-six, counted them meself," Vernon said proudly.
"Thirty-six?? THIRTY-SIX!? But last year- last year I had thirty-seven!!"
Rose tried blocking her ears from all this, unable to stand the whining and griping, not to mention the rushed and panicked explanations from her Aunt and Uncle. "We'll get you two NEW presents, when we go out!" Petunia was saying to the red-faced lad. It reminded Rose of how she was meant to spend the afternoon; Mrs. Figg would be taking her for the day as Vernon and Petunia lavished yet more birthday fun on Dudley in the form of the local zoo. More time spent looking at photographs of cats she'd had while trying to smell anything but the stench of cabbage leaking throughout the house.
I'll end it here for now... let's see what we think o' it!! It was pretty much writ 'on the spot' as most of my stuff is, so it's total first draft. Have fun anyways! Toodles, noodles...