When enemies are at your door

I'll carry you away from war

July

It was a rainy, dreary day, the sort made for reading indoors. Rose Weasley was curled up on her bed with a Muggle paperback novel from her grandparents on her lap, her eyes skimming the pages quickly. It was part of a box set she had gotten that summer for her seventeeth birthday of classic Muggle novels, and she was determined to finish the set before the summer came to a close and she started work as a trainee at St. Mungo's.

The smell of coffee wafted throughout the room; a warm, rich smell, one that reminded her of fireplaces and Christmas and the early morning sunrise. It was unpopular in her family, who all preferred tea, but she just loved the stuff, along with her mother.

"Rose!"

Rose laced her fingers through the handle of her steaming mug of coffee, setting the book down on her bedside table and making her way downstairs.

"Albus is here, honey," her mother called from the kitchen. Just moments after she spoke, a thin wizard with jet-black hair and piercing green eyes strolled into the hallway.

"What is that smell?" he asked, recoiling from his cousin.

"Coffee," said Rose, taking a small sip and smiling at him, even though it didn't really meet her eyes, he noticed.

"Eugh. Disgusting," Albus wrinkled his nose. "Have you finished that Muggle romance novel - what is it called, Pride and Pre-something? Lily's been bugging me about it. She wants to read it."

"No, I have a few chapters left," huffed Rose, leaning against the banister, "and it's Pride and Prejudice."

Albus scrutinized his closest cousin carefully. Lately, she had seemed a bit odd. He knew her and Scorpius were having problems, but Rose seemed a little more worn-out, a little more tired. Only the fine-tune details someone would notice if they were paying very close attention.

"How's it going with you and -"

"Fine. We're fine." Her tone was clipped and harsh, and he got the impression that Rose would rather not talk about this topic.

"Rose..." he leaned down to his petite cousin, who was more his sister than anybody. She knew him like the back of her hand, and him her. They had always been best friends, secret-keepers... and he could always tell when something was wrong. Rose was quite good at deceiving, but she couldn't deceive him.

Rose sighed and looked downwards. "I don't want to talk about it."

"If he does anything you don't like, you tell me and I'll beat the pulp out of him, Muggle-style," Albus threatened, making a smile play at the corners of Rose's lips.

"It's a bit late for that, but I'll keep that in mind, Al."

"Seriously, though," Albus said, climbing the stairs towards her bedroom with Rose trailing behind, "what's going on?"

"I don't know, that's the thing," she knitted her eyebrows together and flopped backwards on her bed. He knew sooner or later, she would tell him; he had that effect on people, "it isn't like it was at Hogwarts. Out in the real world? There's so much more, you know? It's more than studying and handing in papers and watching Quidditch matches. He's just so busy, too - starting with Ministry right up there with the other higher-level guys. He never has time for me."

"Everything will settle in, don't you worry," Albus reassured half-heartedly. He knew better than anyone graduating creates possible strain - him and his Hogwarts girlfriend had broken up just two weeks ago.

"I don't know. He's making a life for himself, a new name for himself at the top of the Ministry... and I just feel insignificant, you know? Another Weasley kid, running errands for Healers at St. Mungo's on the bottom floor."

"You feel insignificant?" Albus asked, perplexed.

"Yeah. I suppose. Just... we don't see each other much anymore. And I'm kind of lowly compared to him. I guess I've been feeling that I'm not good enough for him, perhaps," Rose spilled, looking pained.

"Rose Weasley," Albus said sternly in the impression of their grandmother that made Rose laugh every single time, "you have got to be kidding me. You? Not good enough? Where did this come from?"

She mumbled something he didn't hear.

"What?"

"I said, he was talking about our pay differences and how much potential our jobs had," Rose replied, barely over a whisper. "And apparently mine isn't all that good."

"Rubbish," scoffed Albus. "You work at St. Mungo's helping people. You're helping people, and every little bit counts."

"I just feel so small," she admitted, "especially compared to him, and my family... like, you know, sometimes I feel as if I don't really matter."

"Rose Weasley," Albus said, in that same stern imitation of their grandmother, "you listen to me right now. You are my best friend, and I feel like such a sentimental sap for saying this, but I don't know what I would do without you. You are funny, nice, smart as hell. And just because you're small in stature," she scowled at this, "doesn't mean you leave a small impression."

That small smile tugged at her lips. "You make a valid point, I suppose... but really, what have I done that's so special?"

"Rose Weasley," he said, and she rolled her eyes, "you have been yourself, and that is so, so special. And just because I'm that great, I'm going to show you how special you are."

And he knew exactly how.

no copyright intended. c. 2013. storyline is my intellectual property, but the rest, including the characters, belong to J.K. Rowling. enjoy. lyrics at the top are property of phillip phillips, from the song 'gone, gone, gone.'