Chapter Twenty-Seven
September, 2017

"We should have told her. We really, really should have told her."

A loud groan over on the bed told Hermione that Ron was still awake and listening to her every word.

"Would you please get over this?" he begged. "It's too late."

"She's leaving for Hogwarts in eleven hours!" said Hermione shrilly. "And we didn't tell her!"

"We did try," Ron pointed out logically.

Hermione paused and turned towards him, annoyance on her face. She didn't exactly know whether it was at Ron or herself, but it was her most prevalent emotion at the moment. She'd been pacing since she and Ron had tucked Rose in for bed. Her husband, on the other hand, had been trying to get his well deserved sleep. It wasn't working out too well. He hadn't been able to fall asleep in all the time she'd been pacing- he'd never been able to. There was something about her agitated movements that kept him awake. That or the cold, empty space on the bed next to him.

She didn't understand, however, how he could say they had tried. They hadn't- not really. Because, though she was loathe to admit it, there was a huge part of them that didn't want Rose to know. That dreaded the day that their daughter found out the fact that the stories about Henry, Ryan, and Heather were real. She was extremely astute for an eleven year old, yet she had not figured it out. This was largely due to how sheltered she was. Rarely did Rose enter the magical world, and the events of her parents' childhood were never spoken of at the Burrow. Ron and Hermione had told Rose a completely different version of their first kiss when she had asked (for the record, the proposal story had been slightly edited, as well). It was not nearly as good as Heather and Ryan's first kiss, but in Rose's mind that kiss was just a remarkable work of her mother's imagination. All stories of Ron and Hermione's school years had been moments spent in the Gryffindor common room or at the Burrow or in classes. None of them had centered around the events that always seemed to take place at the end of the year, and the events of 1998 were hardly ever talked about even in the Golden Trio stories. That was simply too difficult.

Hermione quirked a grin, remembering an observation Rose had made while her father was re-telling the story of Henry, Heather, Ryan, Lana, Nate, and Virginia heading off to the Ministry of Magic to stop Riddle from hurting Henry's godfather. She'd commented on how polite Riddle was, in that he always waited until the end of the year to uproot Henry's entire world. Hermione and Ron had spent ten minutes simply gaping at each other- the thought had never occurred to them before. They had showered Rose with praise and kisses and she'd had absolutely no idea what they were so excited about.

"We definitely didn't try hard enough," Hermione decided.

"Oh, hard enough?" Ron said lightly. "Yeah, that I can agree on. When I said we tried I meant we tried a little bit. Not nearly as much as we should have."

Hermione grabbed her pillow from the bed and lobbed it at him.

"How can you be so cavalier about this?" she barked. "We may have completely wrecked our child's trust in us! She's bound to go to school and be told about our lives by all of the other kids, and then she's going to figure out that we've been straight-up lying to her for eleven years, Ron."

"Look, I'm not happy about this either," Ron admitted honestly. "Matter of fact, I feel really guilty about it. That in mind, there isn't much we can do about it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what are we supposed to do? Casually mention during breakfast that we're Heather and Ryan? How exactly would that go? Good morning love, here's the cereal. By the way, all those bedtime stories we told you about Henry, Heather and Ryan were actually about us. Incidentally, you were conceived during a snow storm, Santa Claus isn't real, and Crookshanks did not, in fact, get sent to a farm."

Hermione paused for a moment, considering his words. Then she said,

"She knows that Santa isn't real."

Ron groaned loudly and threw a pillow at her. Hermione let it hit her, staring as it slid to the floor.

"We should wake her up."

Ron looked horrified.

"Haven't you ever heard that you should never wake a sleeping baby?"

"She's eleven years old," Hermione snapped.

"Same thing," Ron grumbled.

"We really should!" Hermione said, adamant.

"Okay, I'll rephrase that. Never wake a sleeping Rosie. She'll bite your head off, thus killing you. Better?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, looking so angry Ron recoiled slightly.

"Hermione, love, it's too late. Rose is probably asleep by now and we don't want to wake her up- the morning's going to be hectic enough as it is, for the love of Merlin. I think the only thing we can do is hope that someone really nice tells her at Hogwarts and she isn't angry at us for too many years."

"Please," Hermione snorted, "This is Rose we're talking about, Ron. She can hold a grudge for eternity."

Ron winced.

"Yeah, you're right."

They stood there in silence, each contemplating the next course of action. Suddenly, Hermione shuddered.

"I'm a little scared."

"Why?" he asked, thinking he already knew the answer.

"She's going to Hogwarts. When did she turn eleven? God, when did she get past eight? It's all been such a... well, a blur. I don't know what I'm going to do when I can't see her every day, talk to her every day. I know how distanced Hogwarts students are from their parents, and I don't want to have to go through that with my daughter. We're so, so close now and I feel like by sending her there I'm going to loose her. Plus, I'm scared of what's going to happen to her while she's there. What if she can't find her Harry and Ron? What if she gets mixed in with the wrong crowd by accident? What if something happens to her that is similar to what happened to us? I need her years there to be normal!"

He blinked up at her, taking in the onslaught of information his wife had just shared. Then he simply opened his arms and allowed her to fall into them. He stroked her hair as she closed her eyes and listened to the steady beats of his heart. She needed that right now- the steadiness. Her baby was going to Hogwarts, and the entire dynamic of the house would change. But Ron, wonderful Ron, would be completely the same. The man she'd fallen in love with, the man she'd married, the man she'd had two children with, and she couldn't think of a better person to experience this painful day alongside.

"Everything's going to be fine," he whispered to her. "Nothing's going to go wrong at Hogwarts- Rose will have all of her nosy cousins there to get her through it, plus Al will probably be in all of her classes. She's so smart, just like you, so she's going to be absolutely amazing in all of her classes. She'll find friends just as smart as she is- or she'll find two blithering idiots and take pity on them. One will probably be Al. As for the growing apart... well, sweetheart, it's sort of inevitable, isn't it? Teenagers always grow apart from their parents- I sure as hell did. But I also sorted out my priorities in time and figured out that family is quite important, even though it put me through hell most of my childhood. I think you and I are going to have to depend on the fact that after she leaves Hogwarts you'll have the ability to be closer than ever."

She stared at him for a second, then reached up a finger to lovingly trace the length of his nose.

"When did you get so smart?"

Ron beamed up at her, obviously proud of his accomplishment.

"About the time I decided to propose to you."

She laughed loudly, leaning down to drop a sweet kiss on his lips. His hand came up to her hair, pulling her closer, and the other one moved to the hem of her nightshirt, pulling up up up-

"Mum? Dad?"

There was a loud, persistent knocking on the door and Hermione and Ron jumped a mile. Hermione quickly rolled off of Ron, a guilty expression crossing her face as she tugged her shirt back down.

"Our children always have impeccable timing," Ron hissed, and Hermione shushed him before waving her wand to unlock the door.

"Come on in, Rosie!" she said lightly, and Rose turned the knob and walked into the room.

Her red curls, texture inherited from Grandma Granger and color from Grandma Weasley, were tussled from constant tossing and turning on her pillow. Her brown eyes were wide and slightly red around the edges. She wore a Chudley Canon's shirt and black pajama bottoms. She was already promising to have Hermione's height and Ron's temper, while Hugo was heading towards Ron's height and Hermione's temperament.

"What's up, Rosie?" Ron inquired, and Rose's face crumpled.

"I'm scared," she muttered.

Hermione and Ron exchanged knowing glances, then Hermione pulled back the covers between them and Ron patted the space on the bed. It was just like when she was little and used to have nightmares. She'd run into their room and spend the rest of the night sleeping between them. It was worse when Rose and Hugo had been young and afraid of thunderstorms. They'd both run into their parents' bedroom, then fought over who got to stay until Ron and Hermione had decided they needed a bigger bed. It seemed silly now, because their children hardly ever needed to sleep in their room anymore, and they usually occupied the same space while they were sleeping.

"C'mere, Rose," Ron said, and she hopped onto the bed between her parents. Hermione hugged her daughter while Ron placed a light kiss on her hair.

"What are you scared of?" Hermione questioned softly.

"Everything," Rose replied emphatically.

"You're going to have to elaborate a little, love," Ron chuckled, and Rose shot him an annoyed look.

"Don't laugh," she said. "You have no idea how this feels!"

Ron cocked an eyebrow.

"Really?"

Rose hesitated.

"Do you?"

"We went to Hogwarts too, sweetie," Hermione reminded her. "We've already done what you're about to do. I think we know very well what you're going through."

Rose looked exasperated.

"Yes, but you two can do no wrong! You're perfect. I bet you had no issues while you were at Hogwarts."

Hermione and Ron both let out little snorts of mirth, then stopped quickly when they noticed the anger on their child's face.

"Sorry, dear," Hermione said. "But we faced a lot of issues while we were at Hogwarts."

"And I'm sure you'll have to deal with some of them, but others... not so much," Ron added.

"Now why don't you tell us exactly what you're worried about and see if we can't quell your fears a little bit?"

"Promise not to laugh?" Rose whispered, her face looking rather vulnerable.

"Promise," Ron said, and next to him Hermione nodded.

Rose started in.

"What if I can't find my way around the school?"

"Do you know how many times Uncle Harry and I got lost within the first week?" Ron asked her. "A lot. A lot, a lot. We got lost constantly, actually. But you, Rosie, inherited your mother's mind, and you'll be able to find your way around within the first two days."

"If you get lost, ask for help," Hermione suggested sensibly.

"You have a dozen or so cousins milling about the school, I believe," Ron reminded her.

"Plus you're great friends with Professor Longbottom. And Aunt Luna's sons are second years, so they'll be able to help you if you get lost."

"Don't ask any Slytherins for help," Ron advised her knowingly. "They'll take advantage."

"Ron!" Hermione said shrilly. "Stop trying to pit her against the other houses before the spirit of the school forces her to do that anyways!"

"What do you mean?" Rose asked, wide eyed.

Hermione and Ron exchanged sarcastic nice job glances.

"Hogwarts is a bit... competitive," Hermione said tentatively.

"Understatement," Ron cut in. "Every house that isn't Gryffindor is full of complete losers that all wish they were in Gryffindor."

Rose looked alarmed.

"But what if I'm not in Gryffindor!"

"Ron!" Hermione growled. "Rose, Gryffindor is not the only good house at Hogwarts. Ravenclaw is excellent- it's purple themed, your favorite color. And everyone in it is very witty and clever."

"So why weren't you put in Ravenclaw?" Rose asked curiously.

"Easy," Ron replied. "So she could marry me."

Hermione and Rose rounded on him.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Rose asked, wide eyed.

"Well we wouldn't be such good friends if we were in different houses, would we? Actually, we probably wouldn't be friends at all. And then, more likely than not, you wouldn't be here."

More likely than not ? Hermione mouthed at Ron, but he just smirked and ignored this.

"How's Hufflepuff?" asked Rose.

"Hufflepuff is a lovely house," Hermione promised. "Everyone in it possesses fantastic qualities that everyone should have. See? All the houses are just wonderful."

"I think you forgot one," Rose frowned.

"Yes, Hermione, which house was that?" Ron said, feigning confusion. His expression cleared. "Oh, I know! Slytherin!"

"Is Slytherin a good house, mummy?" Rose asked.

Hermione turned red and conducted an internal argument with herself for about three minutes while her husband shook with suppressed laughter. Oh, he was going to get it later.

"I... er... well..."

"We hate Slytherin, sweetie," Ron said flatly. "No way around it."

Rose looked to her mother for confirmation.

"Yes, that's true," Hermione sighed, giving up. "I can't think of a civil thing to say about a single one of the Slytherins we went to school with- but that isn't to say that the house has gotten better since we've been there, Rosie. Don't judge people by their houses, judge them by their actions and personalities."

"And, of course, looks," Ron said.

Hermione's mouth popped open in outrage.

"What?" she hissed.

"Well, your mother always went for people based on looks," Ron said.

"What?" Hermione screeched again. "Ron-"

"There was Lockhart-"

"A stupid crush!"

"McLaggen-"

"Oh, please."

"Krum-"

"Looks? What looks?"

"Really daddy?" Rose giggled.

"Of course," Ron said, ruffling her hair. "Why else do you think she would have married me?"

Rose collapsed against the pillows in a fit of giggles, and Hermione tried not to laugh at the crazy antics of her husband.

"You're absurd, Ron," she whispered in his ear.

"Are you saying you didn't marry me because I'm handsome? You think I'm ugly?"

Hermione shook her head.

"You're gorgeous, love. It's just not the reason I married you. More like a bonus."

"Fair enough," Ron said happily. "I'll take it."

Rose straightened up and Hermione brushed her bangs away from her face.

"Anything else you're afraid of Rosie?"

Rose frowned.

"What if I can't make friends?"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. This was what she was most nervous about. Rose was an amazing little girl, but she was just as studious as Hermione and just as competitive as Ron, a deadly combination. Hermione knew how amazing Rose was, and Ron knew it, and everyone in the Weasley family did. But Hermione's concern was that people would see Rose Weasley as an intimidating or obnoxious girl and therefore treat her just like Hermione herself had been treated when she'd first started Hogwarts.

"Of course you'll make friends," Ron said easily. "You're Rose Weasley- you can do anything."

"But what if no one likes me?"

Hermione closed her eyes, controlling herself. Then she said,

"Why would no one like you? You, my dear, are the most special girl in the whole wide world, and you're going to blow them all away with the wonder that is you. Just don't make the same mistakes I did, Rose. Don't be a know-it-all, don't raise your hand for every question. Give other people a chance to shine. It won't dim your light."

This was spoken by a woman who had spent half her life being bullied for her personality, and while the name Hermione Weasley commanded far too much respect to have her bullied in her workplace, to this day she knew that she drove some people crazy. She would not allow Rose to make the same mistakes she had. It would be a stupid thing to do.

Rose grew quiet, staring between her parents. A tear suddenly slid down her cheek, then another one, and another one.

"I'm going to miss you two so much," she mumbled, diving into Ron's arms for a hug. "What am I going to do if I have to make a choice and I can't talk it out with you two?"

Hermione felt tears rise to her eyes and let herself cry a little, maternal instinct overpowering any will to be strong. Rose was so astute for her age, and it never failed to amaze her. Ron reached over and brushed a tear from her eye while stroking Rose's hair with his other hand. He looked like he was struggling to be the strong one in the group. Hermione knew he wouldn't cry over this, but he'd be quite mopey for the next few days after Rose left. She would too. They'd be grumpy together, and it would probably drive Hugo crazy.

"Oh Rose," she sighed. "You're going to be fine. You're so smart- you don't need us. We trust you. We trust you more than anything."

"Honest to goodness?" Rose asked, blinking up at her mother under her father's arm.

"Honest to goodness," Hermione said.

"Prove it." Rose said.

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, then nodded. Ron lifted Rose from his embrace and set her on the bed, facing both her parents.

"We're going to prove we trust you, Rose," he said seriously, "but you have to be very strong about this, okay?"

"And promise not to be mad!" Hermione begged desperately. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Mad?" Rose said wonderingly.

"Remember those stories we always tell you?" Ron asked slowly.

"Yes..." Rose said. "You're talking about Henry, Heather and Ryan?"

"Exactly," Hermione said quietly. "Well... the thing is... about that..."

"The stories are true, Rose," Ron said, voice low.

"True?" Rose asked, her voice squeaky.

"Furthermore," Hermione put in, voice shaking, "they're about us. Uncle Harry is Henry. I'm Heather. Daddy's Ryan. Get it? Harry, Hermione, and Ron."

Rose sat there for a few minutes, registering this, her small mouth open wide.

"S... so you got past all those obstacles to get to the Sorcerer's Stone?"

"Yes," Hermione sighed.

"And you faced all those spiders?"

"Yup," Ron said.

"And you traveled through time?"

"Uh-huh," was Hermione's reply.

"And Uncle Harry actually fought in a tournament when he was fourteen?"

"Unfortunately," Ron muttered.

"Are you pulling my wand?" Rose demanded.

"I wish we were," Hermione admitted.

Rose frowned.

"Hang on..." she said slowly. "Which one was your first kiss?"

"What?" Ron said, puzzled.

"Well, you've told me about two first kisses. One was at the Burrow before you and mum left for your final year at Hogwarts. And one was so much more romantic! Heather and Ryan's was in the middle of a battle that... oh my God, was the battle real?"

Ron gaped at Hermione, shocked that a child could be thinking about romance after such a huge proclamation. Hermione was trying not to laugh.

"Yeah the battle was real!" Ron said impatiently. "There was a whole lot of carnage, too!"

"Our first kiss was Heather and Ryan's. The other one was made up... daddy actually never went back to Hogwarts."

Rose's eyes grew as wide as galleons.

"Merlin! Mum, you actually made the first move? That was amazing! That kiss was breathtaking!"

"I thought so too," Ron interjected, and Rose rounded on him.

"Why didn't you finish your education? However did you get a job?"

Ron shot an alarmed glance in Hermione's direction, but she just grinned at him, still basking in the glow of their daughter's compliment.

"Er... well, after the war they needed recruits to round up Death Eaters, and I was sort of a good choice seeing as I'd spent months on the run chasing after Horcruxes-"

"Horcruxes?"

"RON!" Hermione yelled.

"Oops," he said weakly.

Hermione shook her head, trying to clear it.

"Okay, Rose. You have an hour to ask us any questions you want to. When that hour is up you have to go to sleep. Deal?"

She nodded, and they spent the next hour answering questions, thinking about things they hadn't thought of in a while. Some things were not brought up. Hermione had never told Rose about her torture even in stories, and didn't intend to for a very long time. Overall, Rose seemed to take it quite well, although she was a bit all over the place with her emotions. One minute she was in awe, the next she was filled with aching curiosity, and the next she was so angry at them for keeping secrets she could barely speak. Finally she slipped under the covers and rested her head on Hermione's pillow, back to Ron. The three of them lay there in silence for a while until Rose suddenly spoke.

"You know what I'm most excited about?" she asked in undertone.

"What?" Hermione replied, nuzzling Rose's nose with hers. Rose smiled peacefully.

"Tomorrow I get to meet my future husband."

Ron was up in a shot, alarm on his face.

"What?" he cried, his voice slightly more high pitched than usual. "What are you talking about?"

Rose looked vexed.

"Well... doesn't everyone meet their future spouse on their first day of school?"

"What gave you that impression?" Hermione wanted to know.

"You and dad," Rose listed, "Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny, Uncle Neville and Aunt Hannah."

"Rose, that isn't necessarily going to happen," Hermione said gently. "I mean, think of Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey. They didn't meet until he was working at the Ministry. And Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur didn't meet until he was way out of school and she was seventeen."

"You will not be meeting any prospective husbands tomorrow," Ron growled, oblivious to Hermione's reasonable reasoning. "Stay away from all boys!"

Hermione exchanged an amused glance with Rose.

"He gets like that a lot."

"Seriously?" Rose giggled.

"Yes, he's a freak, actually. He was even worse in school."

Rose laughed harder.

"Then why'd you marry him?"

Hermione looked over at Ron, who was still a little red and whose face was contorted into a look of fury. The idea of Rose dating had never seemed to have crossed his mind before, and it was rather amusing to watch him realize for the first time that his daughter would inevitably grow up.

"Oh, I don't mind it at all."

"Why?" Rose asked again.

"Because," Hermione said, leaning down and whispering it in Rose's ear as though it was a secret, "when he gets like this it means he loves you."

And that was absolutely true.

A/N: So, I know that most people will probably disagree with the idea that Ron and Hermione would wait this long to tell their children about the war, and I don't think that it would happen this way with Hugo, but it is a rather big subject to happen with your children, and I do believe that Rosie just grew up too fast and they were too nervous. That said, please do not leave reviews simply saying that you disagree with the choice that surrounds this chapter. I would really, really appreciate it. And, finally, I hope you have an absolutely exceptional New Year's Eve, and that you get just drunk enough that you can still make relatively decent decisions and don't feel too horrible on Tuesday morning. See you in a week! ~writergirl8