Disclaimer: I do not own any of the rights that in anyway pertain to Harry Potter, I'm just an avid fan who loves her ship. And anyway, I think Joanne showed us what side she's on, and it's clearly not a good one. And a special thanks to my lovely beta Le, she's a doll for helping me because for so long didn't have a beta. So Thank YOU!
Note: Most of the story takes place through Rose's perspective with some minor changes in POV throughout the story.
Warnings: Minor Ron bashing in the beginning (though he may receive redemption because I love Ron too much), Rose and Scorpius are a side Ship, Minor Language.
My prime of youth is but a frost of cares;
My feast of joy is but a dish of pain;
My crop of corn is but a field of tares;
And all my good is but vain hope of gain.
The day is past, and yet I saw no sun;
And now I live, and now my life is done
-Chidiock Tichborne (1558-1586)
Darkness fell over the once bright sky, the clouds looming like a predator hidden in the night. The beautiful moon that had dominated the wide open celestial sphere was now nothing more than a divine being. Beauty no longer existed; all the colors seemed to be a shade of gray.
She watched as the rain clouds began to move in over her house, and she couldn't help but notice the very movement's perfect analogy to her own feelings. The stars were barely visible through the sinister clouds. A clap of thunder exploded somewhere off in the distance, but not even the hideous growl of the northern winds could shake her nerves this day.
Rose Weasley was already broken, and nothing would be able to change that. Everything had changed after Ginivera's death.
A piece of brown straight hair fell from its place behind her ear, but she didn't have the strength to move it. She didn't even want to move. Her strength had run dry, and they could have stopped for her sake, her parents could have made the extra effort. Taken a chance to analyze what they were doing and could have seen it was foolish, simply stupid, but no. They were both stubborn, too bloody childish, and sometimes she felt like she was the adult in the family.
She was starting her third year at Hogwarts, and they had already ruined her life. Because they were so busy blaming each other, they couldn't see the truth.
At least, her father didn't.
Her mother always tried-she would try for the sake of her children. Though her effort was futile; no one could deny that Hermione Granger's marriage to Ronald Weasley was falling apart. Hermione always comforted him rather than her husband. It was logical for any other man to be upset, but Ron knew who she was with, and he should have trusted her.
Rose wanted to be strong for her family and for her little brother. She couldn't afford to fail. Not this time. There was so much going on and so much to deal with-all too much for a single teenager to endure alone.
A long, deep howl erupted from the night, silently commanding the branches to bow down before its mighty wrath. Falling leaves spun around her, creating her own safe haven-her sanctuary. Subtly, she wondered what exactly her family was. Were they a family or were they nothing more than characters molded with pretense and painted smiles?
She had broken down. But she wasn't sure that it was over-all this pain.
She still couldn't believe what she did to her father, who was still petrified in the living room. Magic done outside of school was absolutely forbidden in every sense, even more so after the war. There were always consequences for broken rules, and she did just that.
Groaning, Rose put her face into her hands. What on earth am I going to do?
She was certain her mother had already received the howler. Now she was mortified; breaking the rules was the last thing she wanted to do. It was last thing she needed. To top it off, her uncle would probably learn of this, and she was sure he would not be pleased.
Rose glanced at her watch. Hugo would be home any minute from his friend's house.
The dark clouds continued to swirl around, and the temperature began to drop. The rain would come soon. Rose leaned back against the trunk of the tree, furiously rubbing her arms in attempt to warm them. She couldn't step a foot inside that house now; she wouldn't be able to bear seeing her father, frozen in his irate form. She quickly resigned, crouching to the ground.
Rose refused to cry. Not now. She clenched her teeth tightly.
No, she had to be strong like her mother.
The rain began to fall, hitting her pale skin like little watery bullets. The tree did little to shelter her from it. Her sapphire eyes held a deep, eternal sadness-one which no one could fully understand. One a girl like her should have never known.
0000000000
He paced around his office with his emerald eyes that hardened with some unknown grief, a different sorrow than his previous undertakers-possibly worse. A file was wide open on his desk.
Words were flashing a bright red, calling for attention: Rose Weasley.
The papers were put in a neat little stack, a list of all the howlers sent out within the last thirty minutes. He turned sharply on his heels and strode to his desk. As he leaned over the folder again, he gripped the sides of his desk so hard that his knuckles were white.
Teddy, his godson, looked at him with a pair of anxious chestnut eyes, eyes that he inherited from his deceased father. He sat in the chair in front of Harry's desk.
Teddy had never seen Harry so unsettled; not since the funeral, and he looked as though he wanted to pummel someone!
Harry lifted his head, sighing in defeat. He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his mahogany desk, battling the thought of beating the life out of his best friend.
He had to leave early to find her, to speak to her. To see what really happened.
He couldn't just sit around while the Weasley household fell to pieces. He rubbed his temple, trying to calm himself down. He was the most privileged Auror in the ministry. No one argued that; after all, he was Harry Potter.
He hated it-hated the fact that everyone bowed down to him. Harry didn't want the special treatment; he just wanted them to do their duties and to not think of him as a hero, a god. He expected all of his trainees to treat other authority-like figures the same, but they rarely did.
Finally, Harry decided.
"Teddy, you're in charge," he said, grabbing his coat and thrusting back his hair in a single motion. He stopped at the doorway; taking his messenger bag in his hands.
Harry looked up to meet a pair of wide eyes that belonged to his godson.
"Don't wait up."
Before Teddy could reply, could utter a sound, Harry apparated out of his office with a pop.
AN: I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Please if you read, review. Most people thrive on feedback.
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