Using the prompt 'distraction'
Chapter Thirty-Five
The next day, Rose confined herself to her room. She was in no mood to talk to anyone – she simply wanted to digest all that had happened.
Another whole day she would have to wait to find out what would happen to her parents' murderer. Another whole, bloody day! It was so unfair. Surely, they had been through enough already; surely the least anyone could do was give them the news she had been longing for.
It was only fair.
She'd just finished a chapter in the book she was reading when there was a knock at the door. She looked up, just as Harry let himself into her room. He looked at her sympathetically. "How are you feeling?" he asked.
Rose nodded. "Okay," she said, putting the book aside. She sat up on her bed, giving her uncle a sad smile. "I'm okay."
Harry nodded, accepting her answer. "I want to show you something," he then said.
Rose looked at him curiously. What could he possibly have to show her that he already hadn't?
"Come with me," Harry continued. He pushed her bedroom door open wider and waited.
Uncertain, Rose got off her bed and followed Harry timidly down the hall. He wasn't going to show her some letter her parents had left, was he? Because she didn't want that. She didn't want any letters, or anything else they may have left behind. She had everything that she needed already.
Harry led her up a flight of stairs to the topmost level of Grimmauld Place. She hadn't really been up there before, and the times she had tried, she – and whoever she was with – would run away, terrified.
It had been many years, though, and strangely, she didn't feel the fear that she used to.
"What's up here?" Rose asked Harry as he used his wand to open the only door on that level. Finally, she was going to get to see inside. Even her cousins had said they weren't allowed in there – that their parents said it was private.
"Memories," was the only thing Harry said as he pushed the door open. He let Rose in first, which she did apprehensively. What did Harry mean by memories?
He seemed to hear her silent question, because he said, "These are memories from the war, and bits and pieces afterwards." Rose moved to a shelf that contained some photos on them. A lot of the people she didn't even recognise, but she picked out a few here and there. There were Jasmine's parents – she knew what they looked like – and Luna. Professor Longbottom was also standing with them. She saw Harry, Ginny, and her parents as well. They all looked fairly happy, but not has happy as she remembered them.
"Why are you showing me these?" she asked her uncle. She didn't quite understand.
Harry shook his head. "It's not that that I want you to see Rose; though, you're more than welcome to have a look. I've kept this locked for so long, because I didn't want any of you kids stumbling across these accidentally – when you weren't ready. But you're all growing up now, and I think you can handle whatever you see."
Rose nodded. She'd always wanted to learn about her family's time before she had been born. She knew the minor details, but her parents always refused to talk too much about it, insisting that they didn't want their children hearing the horror they went through. But surely it wasn't so bad. Her parents had come out the other side okay, hadn't they?
She turned to her uncle. "Were Mum and Dad okay after… after what happened?" she asked.
Harry, who was busy with something else, looked up. He shrugged. "We all handled things in our own way," he said. "Your Uncle George was probably the one to recover last – if recover is the right word. It took time, Rosie. It took many, many years for everything to be okay again, but slowly, all the bad things began to be replaced by good things."
"So, they were okay?"
Harry hadn't really answered her question, shrugged again. "They were as good as anyone," he told her. "They got through it… like we all did."
Rose nodded. She understood; it was harder than her parents had ever let on.
"Come over here, please, Rosie," Harry then said.
Curiously, Rose put down the photo she had been holding and joined her uncle at another bench. She gasped – and retreated slightly – when she worked out what it was he wanted to show her.
"From your reaction, I assume I don't have to explain to you what a Penseive is?" Harry questioned.
Recovering from her shock, Rose moved towards the bench again, peering into the shallow basin. "I've seen it before," she said. "Once."
Harry nodded. "I used to keep it in the study, but I decided it'd be safer up here."
Rose looked up at him. "What do you want to show me?" she asked.
Using his wand, Harry swirled the Penseive's contents. "Only if you wanted to, I wanted to show you some things that I remember. Not memories like those they showed in the trial, but good ones; personal ones. But only if you want to, Rosie. I'm sure you have your own memories of them. I just thought it would be a nice… distraction for you."
"And not Hugo?" Rose questioned.
"We both know that you and your brother are dealing with this in your own way," Harry answered. "I think this would be more beneficial for you."
Rose knew that he was implying – nicely – that Hugo was coping better than she was, and if she didn't know that to be true, it would have angered her. Instead, she simply nodded. "I want to see it," she said.
Harry smiled. "I'm pleased, Rose, because I'd like you to see how I remember them; what they meant to me."
"I know what they meant to you," Rose countered. "They were family."
"And the only two friends I ever really had since I was eleven," Harry added.
Rose was surprised by this. She thought Harry had plenty of friends. After all, he was famous. But, maybe that was what he meant by only friends.
Harry looked down at her. "This once belonged to Professor Dumbledore," he explained. "Now, it's mine… shall we?"
Rose nodded, feeling more excited than she thought she would. But she knew Harry; she knew he wasn't going to make her watch anything disturbing.
"Do you know how to do it?"
Rose shook her head. "No," she said.
Harry nodded. "Alright, just lean forward, so your face is touching the liquid, and –"
Rose didn't leave much time for Harry to explain anymore, and before she knew it, she was falling into a memory of her parents, who were looking much younger than she ever remembered them being. They were surrounded by plenty of family – both sets of grandparents, Harry, Ginny, and her Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur with two little girls.
Harry appeared beside her, smiling. "Do you know when this was?" he asked.
Rose shook her head again. She had no idea.
"Move around this way." Harry guided her to a different spot in the room – that she now realised was her house – and she gasped. Her dad was holding a baby, no more than a week old.
"That's me, isn't it?" she questioned.
Harry nodded, smiling. "I don't think I've ever seen them as happy as they were when they had you and Hugo," he said. "They would have done anything for you."
Rose turned her attention to the small gathering in front of her. It felt weird watching a smaller version of herself, but at the same time, it warmed her. It wasn't hard to see the love in the room, as baby-Rose was passed from one family member to the next.
Both of her parents had huge smiles on their faces, which Rose only realised then that she hadn't seen in a long time. She had put it down to them being tired from work, and perhaps a little tired from each other, but now given the circumstances, they had been tired from worry. Begonia Webb had caused so much trouble in the last eighteen months of their lives; she had made them unhappy, when they didn't deserve that.
Baby-Rose was handed to Bill. He took her carefully, and then crouched down as two very eager girls hurried over to him. Rose smiled at the look on Victoire's face; how excited she was to see the baby.
If only they knew how much that excitement would turn to jealousy over the coming years. As children, Rose and Victoire had never gotten along. They'd always be the two in the middle of a fight. Her mum put it down to similar personalities; they were both intelligent, and liked to speak their minds. When they played, they both wanted to be the leader.
That was still the case now, but with Victoire an adult, and Rose almost one, their childhood differences had brought them closer together than most cousins. They had so much in common, and these days, they would talk about anything. It saddened Rose to realise that she had barely spoken to her eldest cousin the past months.
She'd have to change that.
"This is Rose," Bill explained gently. "Your new cousin."
Both Victoire and Dominique pressed their noses to the baby's face before Fleur pulled them away. "Not too close," she told them. "She eez just a baby."
The two girls admired the baby from a distance then, before Bill finally handed her back to her dad. If she could have, Rose would have walked up to her dad then and there, and hugged him forever. But she couldn't; this was just a memory. And he was happy with baby-Rose. Teenage-Rose had been more trouble than she was worth.
"So, Ron, you've got a baby now." That was Ginny who spoke. She was also looking a lot younger than she was now. It had been almost sixteen years ago now, though.
Her dad looked up to her aunt. "That's very observant of you," he said.
"But, mate, we never thought you'd have a baby," Harry added.
Rose looked up at her present uncle, questioning him. He shrugged. "No one was sure how he would cope," he admitted. "Not to begin with."
"But he was a great dad," Rose argued. "He was the best…."
Harry nodded. "I know."
Her dad looked down to the baby in his arms, smiling. "But this is Rosie," he said. "This is different."
Rose wasn't sure by what he meant by different, but everyone else seemed to understand.
It was her grandmother who spoke next. "Well, we will let you and little Rosie get to know each other," she said. "We don't want to intrude."
"You're not intruding at all, Molly," her mum then said. "Rose has to know her family."
"Well, there's plenty of time for that, dear," Molly answered. "Many more years to come. The first year is the most precious, so don't let it slip by you."
Both of her parents smiled after that, and then said their goodbyes, until only Harry and Ginny were left with them.
"You guys okay if we leave, too?" Harry asked. "James is being looked after by Percy and Audrey… we don't want to leave him there for too long, or he'll probably be reading textbooks before he's one."
Everyone laughed at that, and even Rose couldn't help but smile. That sounded like her Uncle Percy.
"Go then, mate," her dad said. "We'll be fine." He once again looked down at the baby adoringly.
Rose didn't get to see what happened once Harry and Ginny left, because the memory dissolved into a new one. This was a few years later, because Hugo was there, and she was about three. Her mum wasn't around this time, but just Harry, her dad, and her brother.
"When was this?" she asked Harry.
"Hugo's first birthday," he answered. "You were so upset that it wasn't your birthday. Look at your face." He pointed to the younger Rose. Present Rose couldn't but laugh at how sour she looked. Her arms were folded across her chest and she was pouting. Hugo was sitting on their dad's lap, which no doubt had upset her more. As a child, she hadn't been one for sharing.
"Rosie, come on," her dad encouraged. "It's no fun when you're sad."
Three-year-old Rose simply turned her back to him and continued to pout.
Harry shared a look with him, and then shrugged. "You remember Albus' first birthday, don't you?" he asked.
Her dad nodded. "James tried to send Albus off with the owl post if I remember correctly." He laughed, clearly remembering something Rose had no recollection of.
"It happens all the time, mate," Harry continued. "I'm sure once it settles down, they'll be best friends."
"Like your kids, you mean?" her dad questioned sarcastically. Even to this day, James and Albus didn't get along like siblings should have. But, in saying that, neither had Rose and Hugo until a few months ago.
Harry shrugged. "It's what brothers, or brother and sister do. Rosie here," he pointed to the pouting child in the corner, "has worked out that she'll have to share the attention now."
"But, she's had to for the last year." Her dad sounded confused by this.
"Yeah, but not birthday parties, has she?" Harry continued. "For three years, any parties at her house have been for her. But now, they're not." He picked up the younger Rose – much to her distress – and placed her on her dad's lap. She simply glared at Hugo, clearly not enjoying the close proximity.
"Hey, Rosie." Her dad leaned her head closer to her. "Hugo's too young to blow out the candles on the cake…."
Rose glances up at her dad.
"He might need help."
At those words, Rose leapt from her dad's lap, looking around excitedly. "Where's the cake?" she asked.
"Soon," her dad said. "But, you're only helping him, okay? Only helping him." It was apparent that those words meant very little to Rose. Her once sour mood had now been turned into one full of energy.
Present Rose smiled. Her dad had always known how to cheer her up – even as a little girl. He'd hated seeing her upset.
"You don't remember that?" Harry questioned as the memory dissolved into another one again.
Rose shook her head. "I remember liking birthdays," she said, "but not that specifically."
He laughed. "You were a bit of a birthday fanatic," he teased. "Which then turned into you being too old for parties."
"I wasn't the best daughter, was I?" Rose asked sadly, looking around the new place. This one seemed to be at the Burrow, and she was younger again. Only a few months old.
"Don't say that, Rosie," Harry said. "You were the best daughter your parents could ever hope for. You made them so happy."
"But, not as happy as I should have."
"That's not true at all. Look." He nodded through the door they were standing out the front of. Rose recognised it as the top room at the Burrow – her dad's old room.
Even though Rose could see it was her dad and baby-Rose in the room. Maybe that was why they had to watch from outside.
"This is actually your mum's memory," Harry explained. "One she wanted to keep forever."
Rose peered closely through the door, just as her dad spun around. He beamed. "Hey," he said to what Rose felt like was her, and for a moment, her heart leapt to her mouth. But then she realised he was speaking to her mum, because she entered the room, and Rose and Harry followed.
"I'm just watching her sleep," he then said, gently. "I like watching her sleep."
"I know you do, Ron," her mum answered, approaching him and wrapping both arms around him in an embrace Rose realised they mustn't have ever displayed in front of their children. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"
"She's incredible… did you ever think we'd have a baby?" her dad then asked.
"With you? Nope."
They both laughed, and Rose wanted to laugh with them, but she didn't. She continued to watch.
"We should have another one."
Her mum let go of him, stepping away. "What? Ron, she's not even three months yet, and you're thinking about having another baby?"
Her dad shook his head. "No, not now," he corrected. "Just… in the future, I mean. I want to spend as much time as possible with Rosie first, though. It might sound greedy, but I don't want to share her yet. Well, not with anyone but you, of course."
Her mum smiled. "That sounds perfectly normal," she said. "And completely understandable… see, what was all that worrying before, that you wouldn't love your baby like you should? I told you, you had nothing to worry about."
"I do love her, Hermione. I love her more than I probably should."
"That's not possible."
They continued to watch the sleeping baby for a moment longer; her dad's arm made its way around her mother's waist. It was her mum who spoke first.
"As lovely as it is watching you watch her, Ron, I think maybe we should join the others back downstairs again."
Her dad was hesitant to leave.
"Ron, she'll be fine. We'll put a sound charm on the room, so if she cries, we'll hear her. You can't watch her all the time."
"I can try," her dad mumbled, as her mum dragged him from the room. Rose stepped out of the way to let them past; even though she knew it'd make no difference. She was invisible to them. Just as she thought they were going to disappear, her dad stopped again, turning back to the room. "It's strange, isn't it?" he asked. "I had that room when I was Rosie's age, and now… now she's sleeping in it. It's strange; it's like a cycle."
"And maybe Rose's children might sleep in there too?" her mum suggested.
"Hey, don't get too ahead of yourself, Hermione," her dad argued, allowing himself to be dragged by the hand to the stairs. "She's only three months old."
"Which apparently is old enough for you to think about having another baby."
Her parents' voices echoed down the stairs, and the memory faded. For a moment, she thought they had entered another memory, but then she realised she was standing back in the room at Grimmauld Place with Harry.
He was watching her intently.
"That was beautiful," she said, wiping away a few tears. "The last one…."
"That's my favourite too," Harry agreed.
"Thanks for showing me those, Uncle Harry," Rose said. "It really… it has made me think of about a lot of things now."
Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"Well, when Mum and Dad fought, I was always scared they were going to break up or something, but after seeing that… they never were going to, were they?"
Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think they were," he said.
"And, I used to think they didn't care about me like they cared about Hugo, but that's not true either, is it?"
Harry shook his head again. "Not at all," he told her.
Rose smiled. "Thanks," she said again.
"Any time," Harry answered, returning her smile. "I thought you'd appreciate it."
"I did." Rose made for the door. "I wish my memories of them were that good."
"I'm sure they're better," Harry replied, following her from the room. "You knew them better."
"But you knew them longer."
"That doesn't mean anything." They began to make their way downstairs, but they didn't get very far when Albus met them, a huge grin on his face.
"When you look like that, Al, I'm worried," Harry said. "What are you up to?"
Albus shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "But Hugo and Lily are cowering in Hugo's bedroom. There's this huge spider in there, and they don't want to move. And James ran screaming when he saw it too."
Harry sighed. "Alright," he said. "I guess that means it's my job to get rid of it?"
Albus nodded. "It's huge," he said, parting his hands about a foot apart for emphasis.
Harry looked down at Rose. "Do you want to come and see this apparently huge spider?" he asked.
Rose nodded. She knew as well as he did, that the spider was probably half the size of her palm.
Thanks once again to Sunny Lighter for promptly beta-ing this. It is me who fails to update until a week afterwards. But I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It would make my day to hear your thoughts!