Jo Rowling owns the entire Harry Potter series. All I have is my imagination, and that's enough for me.
"Rosie," whispered Ron Weasley, kneeling by a small figure curled up in a twin bed.
She rolled over to face his blurry silhouette. "Daddy?" she mumbled back. "What's going on?"
"Come with me," he responded, slowly pulling off her covers. "We're going on an adventure."
Rose grinned with excitement while rubbing her eyes and hopped out of bed. She didn't know what time it was, but everything was quiet and dark, so it was presumably late at night. The idea of such an adventure seemed even more thrilling.
"But we have to stay quiet," Ron warned, still in a whisper. "We're going to keep this a secret. Can't wake Mummy or Hugo, right?"
Rose nodded solemnly.
"Grab your socks and shoes, we'll put them on outside. And we have to tiptoe. Follow me"
Rose was careful to open her drawer very slowly, making minimal noise as she reached for a pair of neatly folded socks. She picked up a pair of small purple trainers by the door to her bedroom, and followed her father out. They creeped down the stairs, not making a sound, and out the door, which Ron locked behind him.
"Stay here a moment, I just have to get something." Ron told his daughter, raising his voice to a conversational volume now that they were safely out of earshot. Rose waited in front of the house, her heart welling with anticipation. What could her father have to show her? She knew he was a real-life hero, and had heard the incredible stories of what he used to do, exploring secret places and fighting off bad guys. Now he wanted her to join him on a nighttime expedition. A night out alone with Daddy all to herself- no crying little Hugo demanding attention or Mummy nagging to eat her vegetables and chew with her mouth closed- was all she could have wished for.
Finally, Ron came back around the side of his house carrying his hand the symbol of all adventure, the most exciting object in the house (changing that sentence): his broom.
"Ready to take a ride?" he asked Rose, noting the eager spark in her eyes. As a father, moments like these were all he could ask for, and before Rose and Hugo, he never would have guessed how much content her smile could bring to him. "It's going to get chilly up there, are you sure you can handle it?"
"You bet!" Rose squealed back.
"I brought you a jumper just in case," he responded, handing over one of his red Gryffindor hoodies. Rose pulled it on over her pyjamas, the fleece engulfing her and reaching her knees. Ron rolled up the sleeves and held Rose at arm's length, grinning at her. Only seven years old, but she looked right with a lion on her stomach. He already knew without a doubt what house she would be entering once she started at Hogwarts, though he dreaded the thought of her reaching that age and having to say goodbye to him. "Ready to go?" he asked, knowing the answer.
"Yeah!" Rose said back, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis.
"Okay, hang on," Ron replied. "Up!" he instructed, and his Cleansweep flew into the palm of his hand. He slid the broom between his legs and lifted Rose up, placing her in front of him. Wrapping his arms around her, he held onto the broom's handle in front of her. "Hold on tight," he reminded, and kicked off the ground.
Rose had only flown once before, and that was during the day time. Flying at night was completely different, surrounded by stars and seeing no people walking the streets below. It felt as if she and her father were racing right through the center of the galaxy. Leaving Earth behind, they were the only ones flying through outer space. She let out an exhilarated shriek as they rose higher and higher off the ground.
Ron could not remember the last time he had flown at night, and reveled in the feeling of it. He loved the noisy wind pushing his hair back and the chill of the air after the sun had set. Of course, his nerves never quite settled with little Rosie in front of him, and he would not loosen the strong arm he kept protectively wrapped around her.
After flying for some time and enjoying the rush of wind, the view of the moon, and the feeling of solitude, Ron slowed to a stop, hovering in midair. He thought it was the perfect spot, and eagerly awaited the start of the show, knowing how much his little girl would love it.
"Why did we stop, Daddy?" Rose questioned. "What's going on?"
"You'll see," said Ron cryptically.
Eager and confused, Rose scanned the ground, trying to find something noteworthy on the tops of the buildings and trees below her.
Suddenly, clap of thunder emitted overhead. Rose jumped, and felt her father's grip tighten around her. She looked up, expecting to see rain, and gasped at what greeted her eyes instead. The sky was filled with a purple explosion, with glowing stripes falling from its center. With another crack, two more streams of light shot into the atmosphere, bright blue puffs sparkling as they rose and fell. Rose watched, mesmerized as a show of light spiraling and illuminating the nighttime.
She didn't see her father grin behind her. Ron found the show captivating as well, but he was more pleased to hear the gasps of his daughter. He was tickled by her hair, ginger as his own and impossible as her mum's, as she leaned her head back and watched, wide eyed, at the unfamiliar display.
In between the bangs of the explosions, Rose spoke up for the first time since the broom had left the ground. "What kind of spell is that?" she asked, not taking her eyes off of the sparks raining down.
Ron laughed, though he tried to conceal his amusement. "It isn't a spell, Rosie. They're called 'fireworks'. This whole thing was made by Muggles."
"It must- Ooo!" Rose jumped, as a particularly loud one blew up before her. "It must be cool being a Muggle, with that kind of stuff."
"I don't think so," remarked Ron. "The Muggles all have to watch these from the ground."
With the loudest crash of the night, at least fifteen fireworks exploded at the same time, hearts and flowers among them, eliminating the dark of the night in flashes of glitter. Once all of the sparks had dispersed, Ron and Rose sat in silence for a moment, absorbing what they had just seen and taking their time to blink themselves back into reality. The chill of being so high up at night finally settled upon them, and Ron felt his daughter shiver slightly under his arm.
"Okay Rosie, I think it's time to start heading back," he decided, beginning to fly again and looping backward in a slow, wide circle.
"Daddy?" Rose whispered. "Thanks for this. This has been the best adventure ever!"
Hovering there in the darkness, invisible to everyone else in the galaxy, Ron leaned forward and kissed Rose's cheek. "There's no one I would've rather shared it with, kiddo."
Rose giggled, swinging her legs back and forth below her. Ron tried his best to put her hood up, but couldn't get it around the mass of hair she had. Rose giggled even harder. "I've got it, Daddy. No one can tame the Rosebush!" Her father chuckled at this, and Rose felt a sense of pride for making him laugh. He always told her how much he loved her humor.
She leaned forward, drinking in the fresh air zooming toward her as she and her dad soared through the sky, the ground coming closer and closer with every second. The night had been perfect, and she still felt like the most special girl in the world, getting to sneak out at night and go on exciting trips with her hero.
"Hey, Rosie? I there may be time to fit just one more adventure in tonight."
"Really?" gasped Rose, grinning.
"How'd you like to go for some late night ice cream, while we're out?" Ron asked, trying to keep his tone casual, already knowing how much Rose would love the idea.
Of course, she squealed in response. "As long as there's chocolate!"
"That's my girl," said Ron, soaring up and dropping back down to give her a thrill. "You know, your mum's going to kill me for this."
Written for Round 5 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition
In the spirit of Ron Weasley, I'm a keeper for the Chudley Cannons.
Based on a memory of watching fireworks from the hood of my dad's car in a 7/11 parking lot.