Saturdays at the Burrow
Title- Two: Namesake (semi-sequel to Remembrance)
Author- thaiMIPride
Fandom/Pairings- Harry Potter/Canon
Rating- K+
Summary- The second in a collection of post-DH oneshots revolving around the members of our favourite Weasley clan. My take on where the name "Rose" came from.
Disclaimer- The epicness of the cast of amazing characters and the entire Harry Potter world will always belong to the incredible, ingenious JK Rowling.
.o.O.o.
Two: NAMESAKE
For each year that passed after the final battle at Hogwarts, at each of the fifty-plus markers of lives lost in the fray, they planted a rose at the marble gravestone or monument. Most of the roses were simple pure white, for the eternal gratitude they had for those who had been taken that night, and for remembrance. But rich pure red roses were called for at Tonks and Remus's grave—red for the unrelenting and unconditional love they'd shared in the last few years of their lives, and for the love those who they'd left behind would always have for them. At Colin Creevey's grave were light green roses, white at their heart, for the boy's incredible purity of heart, youth, perpetual optimism, and loyalty. For Severus Snape, they chose the deepest wine-red roses. It was for his infallible loyalty and love for Lily Evans and profound bravery, and for the respect they would always hold for the man. At Fred's grave, right by the Burrow, they planted bright yellow roses, chosen specially by George who'd told them that yellow was unfailingly cheerful, impossible to miss, and so purely joyful that you had to smile at it, even if you sometimes thought it was a bit obnoxious. They understood that. More roses were also planted at Lily and James's grave, at Dumbledore's, at the monuments commemorating Alastor Moody, Sirius Black and Hedwig, whose bodies were never recovered, and at Dobby's little grave at Shell Cottage.
Hermione helped to plant each of these roses, every year. After the first two years, she and Ron went without Harry. He didn't have to explain why he couldn't go any longer; it was never a happy task—she wept a little at a chosen few of these graves and she always finished the day feeling heavy-hearted and world-wearied beyond her years, so she understood him completely. Yet she had to do it. After each day of planting came a sense of something like closure, and understanding. Remembrance wasn't an issue here—she thought of each of them nearly every day as it was— nor was love, as she would love them for as long as she remembered them. But it was still nice when she could put her love and thoughts for each of them into a physical, tangible form. It was like the roses were a way for her to reassure them that they were still with her.
And when her daughter was born, she and Ron both realised that there had never been any name they could to give her but this. Who would they have named her after? Dumbledore, so she might share the man's brilliance, goodness and humanity? Lily Potter, in the hopes that she would have same grace and courage, or James for his strength? Severus Snape, so she could draw from his bravery and loyalty? Nymphadora Tonks or Remus Lupin for their ability to accept and love so unconditionally? Fred?
All names were what Hermione wished to give a little of to her daughter, yet at the same time, none of them were right.
"Rose" was a new beginning. She would have no namesake, yet her name would be in remembrance of so many loved ones lost. It was in the hopes that someday Rose might walk among the flowers which shared her name and remember the people her family had loved and lost, too soon for her to meet, and love them, too, in spite of it.
.o.O.o.
A/N: A little more angsty this time around, but it felt right, given the subject. Something lighter in tone is on the way, though, not to worry. :) Review, please!