Disclaimer: J.K Rowling created the Harry Potter universe in which this takes place.

Note: The song is 'Red is the Rose'.

Ember

"Emily-Amber! Get back here, lass, and put your clothes on!" Meghan Stonefyre shouted, sounding quite angry and extremely frustrated as she stood out on the front steps of a small stone cottage. She was in her early forties, her red hair already streaked with grey here and there, wrinkles on her face from laughter and anger all mixed together as she glared out over the colorful front garden at a streaking blur of skin and red hair. She held a dress in her hands, frilly and blue and in perfect condition compared to the rest of her spirited daughter's clothing. The blur slowed, small bare feet kicking up standing right on up on the broomstick currently carrying it across the yard.

A girl, about seven, placed two fists on her hips, shaking her head while her wild mane of dark red hair furled up all over around her head. She wore nothing but a pair of underwear, an undershirt, and a key on a chain over her skinny little freckled body. Feet positioned with ease on her Nimbus 2000, the child glared at her mother, hovering in place, about nine feet from the ground, high enough to where her mother couldn't reach her. "I am not wearing that! It's sissy!"

"It is a perfectly lovely dress for a pretty little lass. Now get down here and put it on or I swear, I will ground you."

"You can't ground me if you can't catch me!"

"Ember, love, please listen to your mother and get your clothes on." A gentle male voice stated calmly, blue eyes and brown hair poking it's way out of one of the front windows of the cottage. The child looked between her parents, frowning at the fact that she was being double teamed today. Usually she had at least a little bit of support against the frilly dressed from her father, David, but today… well. Today there were bags under his eyes and he looked impossibly tired, like he had been up all night working in his shop. He was developing again, a new broomstick for the company he was a co-owner of. He was just in the beginning process though, so it would be a long while before there was an actual broom, but he had a general idea of exactly the kind he wanted to make, and it was based around his little hellion of a daughter.

That girl… She had taken to flying so naturally it was almost scary. He had given her a toy broom, much to her mother's dismay, as soon as it was determined she could sit up on her own and stay up. Most parents would have balked at the idea, called him absolutely crazy for allowing an infant who wasn't even a year old yet, to have such a toy. Toy brooms weren't that dangerous though, flying low enough so that the child's toes skimmed the ground and not going very fast. At least, until David had decided his daughter needed something a little more extreme to keep her from getting bored. From the time Emily-Amber, or rather, Ember as she was called by everyone except her mother, was two, she had begun expressing the desire for a better broomstick. Faster, higher, more like Da's Nimbus that she loved being taken up on. Meghan had been completely against it, so, for the next two years, Ember had been hopelessly stuck with a toy broom that went too slow for her liking, though she did get exceptionally good at riding it with just her feet and practicing hand-stands, things her father showed her to keep her interest alive. When she was four though, David had finally given in, much to Meghan's dismay.

It took three days of tinkering and spell breaking, but David took that toy broomstick and amped it up, giving it a total make over. He increased the length by a few inches and reset the safety parameters, maybe a little too much tweaking, as Meghan almost killed him when he admitted to increasing the speed limit to thirty miles per hour and the height to fifteen feet. David knew though, that his little flying prodigy could handle it. She was bold, unafraid of heights and a fifteen foot fall wasn't too great so long as she stayed over the plush grass of the garden. She might break an arm or something, but who didn't eventually do that when they were obsessed with flying? And he was right.

Ember took to her revamped broomstick without any help and was soon doing cartwheels and trying out other tricks that made her mother's skin crawl. It was actually a week later, that Meghan found her very first gray hair right after Ember broke her arm for what was the first, and what would definitely not be the last, time. By the time she was six, Ember was coming back into the house covered in more dirt and bruises than ever, dried blood streaking her skin, clothes completely torn to bits. Yet, there was almost always a huge cheeky grin on her face.

Now at seven, Ember's toy broom had been stored away along the wall of broomsticks in her father's shop. He had invented almost every single one, though, there were a few from before the company he and his friend has started, Kamikaze Racing Brooms, had been founded. Ember could have had any of them for her seventh birthday, the agreed upon date that was typical for most wizarding children to start learning how to fly on a proper broomstick, and yet, she chose one of the lesser brooms in the lot. The Nimbus 2000 that had been her father's since he was eighteen, was not anywhere near as good as any of the Kamikaze broomsticks, nor even the old Firebolt which had supposedly been the broom to end all brooms back in the early nineties. Ember chose the Nimbus, strictly because it was the one she knew the best. She was familiar with the way it moved, having ridden on it since she had been born, strapped tightly to her father's chest in a sling. It had exceptional sentimental value and, despite it's age, was in excellent condition simply due to having been so well cared.

And now David's child stood, bold and proud as ever, her jaw set in that position it got when she was opposed to doing something her mother was telling her to do. Meghan had been so excited about having a girl, to do her hair up and dress her all pretty. A proper little lady to play tea party and dolls, sweet, gentle, and poised. Ember was none of those things, purely her father's daughter. There was nothing to be done about it except try to get her to behave while letting her run free as a wild flower at the same time.

"But Da, it's so sissy! Can'I wear something else?"

"Tell you what. You put on the dress and I'll let you help me come up with designs for this badass beast of a broomstick." David bribed, sipping at the cup of coffee in his hands, watching as the words hit his daughter's ears and her expression eased, pondering. There were very few things that could get Ember off of her broomstick. Crashing, apple pie, and helping her Da in his shop when she wasn't usually allowed in there when he had to work on something super serious. Not that he didn't love having her around, but sometimes he needed quiet to concentrate, or he was doing charm work, testing out which ones would be best for whatever new broom he was working on.

"David, you need to rest…" Meghan chided, frowning at her husband's offer. She didn't like it when he bribed Ember, though it did work most of the time. However, he had already been working for hours, all night and most of yesterday. At this rate, he was going to wear himself thin. There was also no telling a former Hufflepuff when to stop working so hard though. He wouldn't quit until he fell asleep at his work bench or finished what he wanted to get done.

David smiled at his Ravenclaw of a wife, blue eyes twinkling. "Just for a little bit, darling, then I'll rest. Besides, it's mostly just shape and coloring. It's her broom anyway."

"I… Alright. Go on then, Emmi, love."

Ember smiled, leaned down and grabbed hold of her broomstick with both hands, flipping herself backwards off of it, holding tight as she lowered herself to the ground. Her feet hit and she shot forward, broom in one hand. Her mother moved to one side, holding out the dress as her daughter raced past her into the house, grabbing the dress as she went. She paused in the living room, setting the Nimbus up against the rack by the door and pulling the too lacey, puffy sleeved garment over her head, not even bothering to do up the buttons in the back before her feet carried her down the hallway to the wooden door at the very end. She waited there, bouncing, as David laughed, following after her.

The work shop was airy, bright and happy, even if it was mostly made out of wood and stone. David kept it neat, all of his wood working tools hung above the work bench, though the one he used most was the wand sticking out of his back jeans pocket. A barrel full of long sticks sat in one corner, specially chosen because each was a good length and type of wood for potential future broomsticks. There were draws, labeled and full of twigs and bristles, paints, polishes, and varnish. Files full of blue prints sat in a locked wooden cabinet, all organized the cabinets inner drawers, one of the few places David had strictly placed off limits. The left side wall was lined with broomsticks, most of them full working prototypes for Kamikaze, all hung vertically on proper broom stands. The whole room smelt of sawdust and broom polish, just like Ember's Da, and therefore, it was one of her most favorite places to be.

David lifted his daughter from behind, swooping her up into the air as she laughed, and setting her down gently on the work bench. He swept her long hair forward, reaching around her to do up the buttons of her dress while her legs hung down, swinging happily back and forth, her little hands holding onto the edge of the work bench. David sighed, reaching up and pushing her hair away from her dirty face, cupping both of her cheeks gently. "You need to be nicer to your mother, sweetheart. She's the only one you've got."

"But she wants me to be a girl." Ember shot back, frowning.

"Ember, lass, you are a girl." David laughed, shaking his head as his little one's antics. She was always coming out with such silly things. Last week it had been about how she thought cactuses were vastly underrated.

"For now. When I grow up though, I'm going to be a man. Like you. And marry a pretty lady who's good at healing spells so when I crash on my broom she can fix me up." Ember stated this very seriously, her face set without a single bit of humor in it. She reached up, playing with the iron key hanging from her neck as she did sometimes when she was thinking quite deeply. Her little pinky pressed between the teeth, though not hard enough to hurt her, just enough to feel it there.

"Oh, really, you'd rather be a man? Why is that?" David asked curiously, gazing down at his daughter's beautiful little face. She had gotten his eyes, but she looked almost every single bit like her mother otherwise. However, he was certain, with the way she took after him in personality, that the thing about eyes being the window to a person's soul must be true.

"Cause, nobody makes a man wear a dress when he dun wanna." Ember explained as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet. "And nobody ever gets angry with the boys when they get all dirty. Mam says girls as s'pose to be clean and do gentle things, like care for plants like she does or play with dolls. I like my dolls and looking after plants, Da, but Nimbus is way cooler. And dresses make doing tricks harder than pants do."

"Well, I can't disagree with you on that. But darling, you don't need to be a man to get dirty and wear pants."

"I don't?"

"No. But I can talk to your mother about letting you wear what you'd like to more. You're old enough to know what kinds of clothes you prefer and if it's not dresses, that's alright. Not saying she'll give in or that you'll never have to wear a dress again, but we'll see, alright? Maybe you could wear one for her sometimes, like maybe on Sundays."

Ember frowned, pondering that over in her little head for a few moments, weighting her options. On the one hand, if her mother said no, she'd still probably have to wear dressed, but then again, on the other hand, in the off chance Meghan agreed, she'd only have to wear a dress once a week which was much better than being forced into one most days. Finally, she nodded. "Okay. I really do like being a girl, Da. Just not so girly-girly."

"Ember, love, you have never been girly-girly." David laughed, kissing her forehead and moving to sit on his stool. He opened a drawer and pulled out a whole bunch of parchment, a regular pencil, and a large tin full of neatly organized colored pencils. He set these down on the work table and Ember brought her legs up, crossing them and turning her body so she was faced sideways. She took some of the parchment and the pencil, starting to draw out a broomstick as her father pulled his own pencil from where he kept it behind one ear.

"Hey Da?" Ember asked after a few minutes of sketching, though hers were not anywhere near as good as her father's detailed designs. They were very basic, rudimentary child drawings, usually covered in wild colors. David hung most of them up on his cork board above half of the work bench with whatever blue prints he had when he was actually carving. They kept his imagination open to all sorts of new possibilities.

"Yes, sweet rose?" David looked up from his sketch to find his daughter staring at him, her blue eyes full of stern fire and confused curiosity. She gazed at him, a question lingering on her lips before it spouted outwards, making him laugh.

"Even if I'm not a man when I grow up, can I still marry a pretty lady?"

"Aye, my gorgeous girl, you can marry whomever you take a fancy to so long as they fancy you back. If I had wanted, I could have married a man instead of your mother."

"Oh. Okay. That's good, because, instead of a man, I think I'd like to be a knight. And knights always marry fair ladies in the stories."

"I think that sounds like a fabulous idea." David smiled, reaching out and poking Ember on the nose. "Although, I thought you wanted to be a professional broom struntress?"

"That too. I'll be a knight, and a struntress, and a Quidditch player, and a broom maker, like you, and a Herbologist like Mammy. And a Mammy, and a wife, and a husband, and a candy shop keeper, and a cactus, and I want to live in a tree house in an apple tree that makes apples all year long like Mammy's does 'cept it'll be a cinnamon tree too, so I can always, always have cinnamon apples and apple pie whenever I want. And a cocoa tree too, so I can make chocolate for all of my friends, especially my best, best one. And I'll have the best broom ever once Nimbus is too old to fly anymore, but that won't happen probably til I'm a hundred anyway." Ember grinned, her words moving very quickly as she spoke, so excited about thinking about all of the things that could happen when she grew up. She liked imagining, dreaming of the many possibilities like all children do.

"Well, you're going to be very busy then." David reached out, stroking his daughter's hair, so pleased with how much she had her heart set on and knowing, sadly, she would probably grow out of all of those ideas much sooner than either of them knew. For now though, she was still little and he wasn't going to dash any of her big wild dreams for anything. "Isn't there anything you don't want to be?"

"A werewolf." Ember stated automatically, frowning. "Because Great Uncle Milo always looks so very sad around the full moon."

"That he does. But he does alright. You don't have a be a werewolf though, that only happens if you get bitten by one on a full moon, you know that." David sighed, knowing the idea of werewolves could be quite difficult for a child to understand sometimes. He patted Ember's knee and decided a change of subject might be the best course of action right now, to cheer her up. She was a soft soul, Ember, even if she was tough on the outside. She never liked it when others were sad. "You know, Emmi-love, this broom I'm making is going to be very, very special."

"Da, all your brooms are special." Ember laughed, looking up from scribbling at the handle of her drawn broomstick with a green colored pencil.

"Yes, that's true. But this one will be the most special of all, because it's not just any broom. It's going to be the very best broom in the world, and it's going to be yours. That's why it's special."

"Really? Mine?" Ember's eyes opened wide, twinkling with the idea of it. She adored her Nimbus more than anything else in the entire world except for her parents, but the very idea of a broomstick, made specifically for her… It was remarkable.

"Yes. It's going to be fast, and so nimble you'll be able to steer with just the very lightest of touches. Even lighter than the Firebolt. And you'll be able to do any trick your heart desires on it because it'll be a stunting broom, but it'll still have plenty of racing broom qualities." David explained, holding out his sketch, though it was only one of many. He already had a good idea of what it would be shaped like, but it never hurt to have Ember's input. "What do you think?"

"Shaped like my Nimbus, but thinner?" Ember asked, picking up the sketch and gazing at the gorgeous detail of it. She was pretty good at telling brooms apart on paper.

"Not too much thinner, but definitely a good bit lighter and still able to take hard damage. Why don't you work on a color scheme for me? Something you'd really like to fly on."

"Aye!" Ember nodded, grabbed her own paper and flipping it over. She started drawing again, pulling the tin of colored pencils colors to herself. She was silent for the next half an hour, going through many different ideas until she finally settled on one she liked the very best. She held up her paper, beaming, to show her father. "Look Da. This one!"

"Black handle with a blue tail?" David asked, surprised by the simplicity. Normally Ember's drawings were full of so many more colors. Rainbows tails, handles painted with puppies or hearts, insane add-ons that made absolutely no logical sense, like a little house elf who lived inside and made tiny delicious pies.

"A blue flame tail. See the different shades?" Ember pointed with her pencil, to the variations of blue she had used. David squinted and then laughed, nodding.

"Aye lass, I see them." Blue flames for a tail, now that was a bit more like what David had been expecting. "Because blue is your favorite color, right?"

"Mhm. And our last name has 'fire' in it." Ember grinned proudly, very pleased with her coloring. She had worked very hard to think up a good one, so she really hoped her Da would use it this time, especially because normally he couldn't. It wasn't that her drawings were bad, it was just most people didn't want to buy a broom that had so many different colors on it. Kamikaze always had a final vote on the design before they revealed a new broomstick. Very rarely did one pass that didn't have basic colors, such as brown or black. There had been one a few years ago with a green handle, but that had been because they'd cut a deal with the Holyhead Harpies. "Will the company like it?

"Tell you what love, I'll make certain, your broom looks just like this. Even if we have to change the colors for the public release, yours will have a black handle and a blue flame tail." David swore, holding out his pinky. Ember took it, staring, her little heart thudding excitedly in her chest. A broom. With a design she had created this time. Even if it was only just the one. The idea that it would be brought to life… It made her exceptionally happy.

"And silver. For the name." The girl stated seriously as she and her father shook pinkies, an impossibly sacred way to promise something. She knew for certain, that this broom was going to happen, because there was no way her Da would pinky swear it otherwise.

"Silver for the name. Got it. Alright, dearest girl, I think it's about high time I took a nap." David reached out, lifting Ember from the work bench and letting her locks her arms and legs around him, pressing her little face against his neck like she had always done. She was a very leggy child, and probably always would be. And gosh, she was getting big. She would probably be tall, like him and Meghan, though there was always the possibility that she would take after her grandmother and stop growing before she'd hit fifteen.

David carried Ember out of the workshop, making sure to close the door behind him. When it was closed, no one was allowed in without permission, though, he occasionally left it open while he was working, just in case he was needed. He took the few short steps down the hallway to another door marked with a gold name plate, his and Meghan's names engraved into it. It was an old pureblood wizarding tradition, name plates on bedroom doors. He pressed through the door, entering yet another sunny room, though this one smelt like green things, which, considering there were a lot of plants in pots in here and the windows were open, a slight summer breeze blowing in through them, it wasn't all that strange.

Setting his daughter down on the bed, David kicked off his shoes and flopped backwards onto it, stretching out his arms and yawning. He scooted, head finding his pillow while Ember imitated him, flopping backwards as well. They laid there, staring up at the ceiling as they always did when David decided to take a nap during the day. Ember always missed him when he was asleep or working, so she would stay until he was, waiting for his breathing to slow before she would go and run rampant outdoors again.

Both father and daughter lifted their shirts (or rather, dress in Ember's case), until their stomachs were exposed. Their hands moved downwards until they found their belly buttons and used their two pointer fingers to press at the sides, squishing absentmindedly at their navels, not even really noticing the other was doing it as well. This was such a regular occurrence, that when Meghan caught them at it, she couldn't help but cover her mouth to keep from laughing and ruining it. She had found it strange, the first time she'd seen David poking at his belly button, lost in thought, but when Ember had started naval squishing as well, without having really seen David doing it, she had known her daughter would never be much like her, and that was alright. David was a good man, and Meghan knew she would be blessed if Ember grew up to be just like him, even if she was a bit wild right now.

"Da, will you sing?" Ember asked after a couple of minutes, blue eyes moving to look at her father's face. He nodded, opening his mouth, voice gentle as the familiar old lullaby came flowing out of it.

"Come over the hill, my bonnie Irish lass. Come over the hill to your darling. You pick the rose love, and I'll make a vow. And I'll be your true love forever." David rolled over, reaching out a hand to stroke the hair back from Ember's forehead, singing to her as sweetly as he always did, even if his voice wasn't the best. It soothed her wild soul, for a little bit at least, and it usually helped him sleep too. "Red is the rose, that in yonder garden grows. Fair is the lily of the valley. Clear is the water, that flows from the Boyne. And my love is fairer than any. Your turn, little rose."

"Twas down by Killarney's green woods where we strayed. And the moon and the stars, they were shining. And the moon shone it's rays, on her locks of brown hair…"

"Golden hair, Emmi-love." David corrected, smiling.

"I know, but I think brown is prettier than blonde." Ember laughed, rolling onto her stomach and kicking her legs up into the air, moving them back and forth happily. David chuckled, shaking his head.

"Really? Brown. Hm, I thought you'd like red best, like me. Then again, you and your mother both have red hair."

"Aye, I know. Mum caught you with her hair. But I've always liked brown better. It reminds me of Nimbus and you. Can I dye mine? Then I could look more like you 'stead of Mammy."

"No darling lass. Never change that gorgeous hair of yours. It's unique and suits you perfectly. You should be proud to look like your mother. She is absolutely beautiful, and so will you be too when you're a grown lady."

"Fine then. But remember, I won't be a lady. I'll be the knight." Ember heaved a sigh, letting her legs fall and wishing for brown hair. She sat up, grabbing hold of a pillow and whacking her father promptly in the face with it. "Do you gotta take a nap?"

"Well, I suppose I should." David smiled, but he moved, reaching for his own pillow. Ember shot up onto her feet, but he was too fast for her. The pillow swung and slammed into the lower half of Ember's legs and she toppled downwards. David stood, racing for the door while his daughter was still trying to regain her bearings on the bed. "Then again, you might have to catch me first!"

Ember chortled, her laughter ringing through the house as her eyes shone. She pushed, rolling until she hit the edge of the bed and her feet hit the floor. Pillow raised above her head, she chased after her Da, so very glad he was hers.

This is set around one of my roleplay OCs when she was little and I just love her so much I couldn't resist. If you would like to see more of her, let me know. Or if you'd like to see her all grown up or enjoy Next-Generation roleplays, there's a link in my profile. This might become a series of one shots involving my other OCs pre-Hogwarts, but for now, it's just the one. Thanks so much for reading, I always love hearing your thoughts or opinions if you're willing to give them.

Love always,

S.Q.O.