Shelter From The Storm

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter Eleven:

On Christmas Eve, Rose woke early, dressed warmly, and found everyone else already awake, solemn, and respectfully silent. Lupin was there as well, but excepting a smile in acknowledgement of his presence, Rose said nothing. Instead, she donned her jacket and various other winter clothes, accepted the thermos of hot cocoa Jean offered her, and followed the adults into the backyard.

It was small, as were most yards in London, but it was ringed around by hedges ten feet tall, and it was there, with Rose attached to Jean, and Gabriel to Alastair, that the company disapperated out of sight.

They reappeared in a familiar courtyard blanketed by snow, a familiar monument in the centre, and the square otherwise abandoned. It was barely dawn, and the villagers of Godric's Hollow were still abed, but Rose paid the quietude no heed.

Instead, she followed a route that had become familiar to her in the last three years, around the side of a church she'd never entered, through an old, squeaky kissing gate, and beyond the rows upon rows upon rows of headstones. Familiar names jumped out at her - Abbott, Cornfoot, Spinett, Dumbledore - but Rose didn't stop until she reached the two most familiar names of all.

Behind her, Sirius dropped to his knees, supported faithfully by Remus, but Rose pretended she didn't notice. She'd already had her time to grieve for the parents she'd never known, and twelve years too late, her godfather had just received the blessing to mourn as well. She thought he'd have preferred it in relative privacy, where his estranged goddaughter and a few (relative) strangers couldn't see, but unless Sirius was willing to actually leave the gravesite, that wouldn't happen.

"Hi," Rose murmured. She knelt in the snow, and recognised that it wouldn't be long until the wet seeped through her trousers. "Merry Christmas, and Yule, I suppose."

Rose said nothing further, content to sit in silence. Her parents had given their lives for her, and although it was tragic by all reckoning, Rose never failed to feel safe in their final resting place. She was uncertain if a part of them lingered near, or if it was just a figment of her own subconscious, but the sensation hadn't changed since her first visit, and a part of Rose hoped it never would.

"Should we go to the house?" Gabriel queried, voice almost inaudible. Rose, who'd stood from her knelt position, glanced at her defeated godfather, and shook her head in denial.

"Not today, Gabe. Maybe in January."

"Are you sure?" Alastair enquired.

Rose nodded, resolute. "I've gotten my closure, and he doesn't need that. He's not ready."

Alastair and Jean nodded their acquiescence, and with Remus' help, they managed to haul Sirius to his feet. Rose mentally bade her parents a farewell, and trudged behind the adults as they led the former convict out of the graveyard, and to a secluded apparation point they knew.

Lupin disapparated with Sirius, and Rose paired up with Jean. The last thing she heard before they popped away, was Gabriel tell Alastair, "Well, that was painful to watch."

It was followed up at the other end of their journey as Alastair chastised his son. "Have some respect, Gabriel."

The Hufflepuff raised his hands up in supplication, retreated towards the house, and disappeared out of sight. After she'd thanked Jean and Alastair for their support and companionship, Rose followed his lead, kicked off her snow boots at the door, and escaped into the solitude of her bedroom before she could be waylaid by concerned grown-ups.

All she really wanted at the moment was to be alone.

With a graceless flop, Rose dropped onto her bed with one of her journals and a lead pencil in hand, opened up to a blank page, and began to sketch out all she'd seen that morning. The images danced behind her eyes and came to life on the pages in front of her, immortalised in lead and paper, from the sight of everyone gathered in the living room, to the devastated expression on Sirius' face, and that thrice-damned, ever-confusing epitaph that Rose couldn't stand.

The final enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

What did that even mean?

Irritated, because it was a question she'd pondered for three years by that point, Rose set down her art things, approached her desk, and reached for the letter that had arrived in her absence. Tubby, the Tates' house elf, had left it in plain sight, and the missive was clearly from Nora, and Rose smiled to herself.

Without even seeing her, Nora knew exactly what Rose needed: a distraction.

… please stop focusing on your own misery, and focus on mine instead. Of course, I'm being snarky right there, but whatever. As usual, I'm going to visit my parents tomorrow, and all I want to do is cry because, as usual, neither of them will know who the hell I am, and again I'm asking myself: why do I even bother? And then I remember these are my parents, who gave up their minds for me, and the least I could be is a little grateful, but Morgana, after twelve years, it's just depressing…

Rose gnawed at her bottom lip, frown on her face. It wasn't the distraction she'd been hoping for, but clearly, Nora was in need of Rose's support, and the Potter scion wasn't about to let her best friend down.

… I just got back from Godric's Hollow. It was peaceful and miserable all at once, of course, and Sirius fell apart, though I confess to being unsurprised. I'm sorry you are feeling discouraged, though I don't blame you in the slightest. No doubt, it's disheartening to see them that way.

Admittedly, I often wonder which of us - and our respective parents - had the worser fate. Then I remind myself that they're both miserable in their own ways, and fates I wouldn't wish on anyone.

Anyone worthwhile, in any case.

I hope this letter finds you in (reasonably) higher spirits. I'll be certain to seek you out at the New Year's Eve ball…

Rose signed the letter with an extravagant flourish, dried the ink with a spell, and folded the missive into an envelope she sealed with wax. Hedwig hooted lowly as Rose tied it to some string around her talon, Rose doted on the snowy owl for a time, but sent her on her way, her words certain to disappear in the wind.

"Godspeed, girl. Nora needs me."

With a ruffle of her hair, Rose changed into a pair of flannel pyjama trousers and her quidditch jersey over a thermal undershirt, tied her hair into a messy bun, and found herself headed towards the kitchen. It was the holiday season, after all, and if nothing else, she had family to spend time with.

She wasn't about to disappoint.