A/N: WHOO! ANOTHER CHAPTER DONE! This one took so long to make and I apologize for keeping you all waiting, but I promise you that this one is worth it. I'm hoping the next chapter won't be as long, so hopefully it'll be a quicker update.

Warnings for this include mild gore, attempted violence, and a WHOLE LOTTA CUTE MUM AND DAUGHTER BONDING AND OH MY GOODNESS YOUR HEART WILL EXPLODE

Disclaimers are the same as always: Harry Potter nor the characters are mine, all rights belong to J.K. Rowling.

And as a sidenote, (an Author's Sidenote or A/S, if you will) I don't know if I caught all the grammatical mistakes in this, and the keyboard I used to type most of the story has a trashy shift button, so expect decapitalized words where there should be capitalization or any other symbols that need the shift button to work.

With that out of the way, please enjoy it!

Chapter 8: Roses

Why did I make this choice? How could I have been so incredibly stupid? Of course he doesn't love me. He loves alcohol more. He's grown so far from his own wife and daughter that he only cares about drinking and forgetting. I'm still screaming into the ground. I can't help but feel sick and tired of this endless, hopeless, lifeless loop I'm constantly roped into. But this is all because of me. This marriage happened because I couldn't say no. Rose is being starved and beaten because I didn't run when I needed to.

I don't know how long it's been, but I'm losing the strength to cry. Slowly, my sobs quiet and my tears subside. Rose is still hugging my back when I sniff and take a few shaky breaths. Her soft, sweet voice rings in my ears when she whispers, "Mummy?"

That gets me to push my upper body from the ground. I wipe my black and swollen eyes and cheeks, letting out small sobbing coughs and sniffing continuously. When I finally manage to calm down enough to think properly, my heart feels like stone at the thought of Ron. Any and all traces of remorse and hope for him are gone and all it took was for him to walk away from us. My somber expression becomes hard and unchanging. I'm certain it'll stay this way, too, but when I turn my head and see that familiar pair of gorgeous, bright, caring cinnamon eyes, my face softens and my heart thaws.

"What happened?" She asks cautiously. Her voice is quiet and squeaky, as if she's scared it'll set me off, either in rage or sadness. But instead, I feel my eyes grow a bit hard again and I frown.

"He's gone." I mutter darkly. Rose looks understandably timid. I don't think I've ever used that tone around her, and I realize my mistake as soon as the words leave my mouth. Quickly, my eyes become caring and gentle, and I hold out my right arm, which feels better than one would normally think about when holding out one's arm. Tentatively, Rosie takes my hand and I guide her into my lap as I shift so she can sit on it.

"What d'you mean he's gone?" She whispers. I sigh and switch my gaze to the ground as I stand up. She may be smart among children her age, but she's still a five-year-old who isn't nearly as mature as a 12-year-old.

"He… He's not going to stop this," I explain with my normal, gentle tone I use whenever we talk. "He's just… gone."

"Oh…" She murmurs. We stay silent after that, and I place her on the kitchen counter when I walk in. There's a checklist Ron has placed out beside her and I pick it up with a tired expression and begin to read the words scrawled out on it.

To Do List:

Clean the living area

I reach to a magnetic holder on the fridge and place a tick beside it with a pen; I shudder involuntarily at the thought of his vomit.

Dust the house

Clean the toilets

Re-shelve my beer and wine

Make a full dinner

Clean and pick up whatever needs to be cleaned and picked up

As I skim the last of the instructions, I can't help but groan at the last one. His room is atrocious and smells strongly of alcohol of any kind. I show the paper to Rosie and help her read it through. She becomes somber, so I lift her into my arms and kiss her head in an attempt to make her feel remotely better.

"His room's gross…" She complains.

"Tell you what," I say suddenly, sounding a lot more cheerful than I feel, "I can clean his room, and you'll help me cook, deal?"

She looks up at me then does this adorable little smile and nods. I grin and begin walking to the nearby closet to get dusters. I can't help but feel grateful for Rose, knowing how long and grueling cleaning the house and even living here would be without her. And there's a spark that flickers when I think about it.

I'm standing alone in Ron's beer stash, busying myself in re-shelving them. I never let Rose go in here. The smell of alcohol would be overwhelming for her and letting your toddler go near breakable glass is not the best idea. Sometimes I wonder if Ron even read any of the parenting manuals I gave him. But I digress. Right now, I just want to get this excruciatingly long day done. It's only been two hours and I'm already begging for sleep. I haven't even gotten time to wash or tutor Rose yet, either.

I bend down to pick up another beer bottle to place when a small knock makes me jerk. Quickly, I place the bottle in its spot and walk over to the door. Rose is standing there, and when she sees me her face lights up and I barely have time to ask her a question when she grabs my hand and pulls me over to a nearby window.

"Look Mummy, look!" She squeals. I follow her pointed finger and a smile lifts my lips. There, out in the trees, are a herd of deer. A few females, each with one to three fawns, and three males all sit around. Some fawns are trying to get their mothers to play and I laugh when one pounces so hard on the ground they lose their footing and fall. It shakes its head and resumes its determination to get its mum to wrestle.

The biggest male sits in a large area of shade, his elegantly curved antlers sitting atop his head for display. But he isn't what catches my attention. It's the small, red rose that's blooming near him. I don't look out the window very often; it's too painful to imagine what life could have been like, so I've never seen this rose yet. It's young and bright red, and the chances of one blooming alone and in the wild always seemed impossible to me, but it's here.

I unconsciously bring Rose closer to me and hold her tight. My mind is elsewhere, making scenarios of the two of us just sitting out in the grass, and I have her in my arms just like my father and mother held me. But the man who sits next to us is not Ron. His hair is different, his clothes are different, and I find myself wanting to reach out and touch him, his shoulder, but the vision fades from my mind before I can.

But when it does go away, I lock eyes with the stag. He simply stares at me, and I, him. His black eyes are purely animalistic, but there's something about him that brings a truly indescribable feeling to my chest.

Harry's Patronus… I think in awe. I wonder if it somehow grew with him and became like what this stag looks like now. His black eyes bore into mine, and I feel my subconsciousness begin to lift my arm, as if I can simply touch its muzzle, but he stands and beckons the others. They all start to follow him, and for a moment I'm scared they'll tread on the rose, but all of them miss it.

And suddenly the area is empty. All empty except for the gorgeous red rose blooming from the ground. I feel Rosie shuffle in my arms and I look down to see a pout on her face. Despite myself, I smile and switch her around to hug her.

"Thank you for showing me, darling," I say.

"I wanted them to stay longer," She whines. "You think we'll get to see one outside the house?"

Her suddenly quiet question cuts me deep and I snap my head up to the window. The sun shining through it suddenly feels fake and I have a crushing longing to go out into the forest. Then I set my eyes on the rose. My breath catches in my throat but I feel no sadness. Instead, my chest swells with determination unlike anything before and I clutch Rose to me. My eyes are trained on the brilliant red flower, and only one simple question comes out of my lips subconsciously.

"Do you know why I named you Rosaline?"

I feel her head lift from my shoulder in surprise. Rarely do I call her by her full name, since "Rose" and "Rosie" were used as nicknames I gave her more often than not, and Ron certainly never addressed her any more than some foul use of language or insults.

"No, Mummy," She whispers. I adjust her so that she's face-to-face with me, and I offer a small, contented, loving smile.

"Well, it's thought to be of Latin, and it means 'lovely rose'," I say. "It's also French for 'tender horse',"

Rose snorts. "Horse?" She repeats with a laugh. I chuckle along and nod.

"Horses are beautiful, aren't they though?" I ask. She's only seen photos of horses and Ron won a painting of one during a gamble that sits in the garage, but she still agrees with a little, "Yes, Mummy,"

"And did you know that there are even magical species of horses?" I gain a playful tone in my voice that I use only for moments like these. Her eyes light up with wonder and awe and she suddenly straightens in my arms.

"REALLY?" She gasps. I start to laugh and there's such a warmth in my heart that I feel as if I'll explode with love.

"Pegasi with wings bigger than the tallest man!" I exclaim, throwing out one of my arms. It feels like a millennia since I've been like this and I love it. I'm not usually in the mood to be this playful from the draining work and beatings, but there's so much strength in my body now that I barely notice the fatigue of everything. Rosie's eyes are wide and the smile she wears is even bigger, and my heart swells with pride— Pride that I have someone as precious and special as her in my life, and affection unmatched by any other accompanies it.

She's nearly vibrating with excitement and child-like awe now, and it's one of the cutest things I've ever seen. "Unicorns?" She squeals.

"With horns sharper than any weapon known to man, and coats whiter than the purest snow!" I all but declare. "I even got to pet one, you know,"

Rose's face is so shocked I'm scared that she'll faint, but she never does. Instead she blurts, "You got to pet a real life UNICORN?!" And suddenly I'm bombarded with a thousand questions per second, all including things like "What did it feel like?" or "Will I get to pet one?"

I laugh at her enthusiasm and stroke her hair. Instinctively, she quiets down and lays her head on my chest. Her smile that is still plastered on her face sends this jolt through my body, and I find myself never wanting that smile to fade. There are small moments where you can't even tell she's been abused, and this is one of those times. Gone is the timidness and fear from her eyes and replaced with joy and awe and child-like innocence. And the rose floods back into my mind, and all I can do is hug her close to me and say, "You will absolutely get to pet a unicorn."

Her little arms are suddenly around my neck and she squeezes me with such strength I never knew she had as she squeals, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" over and over again.

I'm trying my best to pat her back and I gasp, "H-Honey… Can't— Can't breathe…"

Her arms untangle from my hair and she jerks back, and I take a deep breath of air. "Thank you," I say, if not a bit out of breath.

"Sorry, Mummy," She whispers. I smile and hug her close, my hands running through her curls comfortingly.

"It's okay, darling, I would've done the same to my mother if she had said that," I chuckle. She smiles and I begin to walk out to the living area, but not before throwing one last glance to the rose outside.

I feel Rosie move her head and look up at me just as I sit down on the couch. "Were your parents magical?" She asks. Her question catches me off guard a bit and I have to take a moment to restart my brain. Memories flood into my mind and I have to shove down tears that threaten to leak from my eyes.

"No," I say finally, my voice quiet, "they weren't."

"Then how did you have magic?"

A single word in that sentence sends me into shock and I can't think for a second. It's been years since I've used any sort of magic. Since I've even felt it, too. I'm not sure what happened to it; it just disappeared, and I can't get it back. A gut feeling has always expected that Ron had something to do with it, but with his magical abilities, I doubt it. Truly, I don't even know how Muggleborns get magic or how one's magical core even works. There's been hardly any research done and it seems that the Wizarding World finds this to be on the "less important" side, which is utter rubbish.

"I have no idea how any of this works," I say with a sharp laugh in my voice. "Trust me, love, I've read many books in my life and not a single one of them even comes close to at least theorizing how and why certain people have magical cores and others don't."

"Oh," comes her soft reply. "Um… what does 'theoryorizing-ing' mean?"

"It's like a glorified guess made by professionals," I answer. "They just take some facts and make up a scenario that tries to explain how something works. Actually, really anybody can make a theory,"

Rose nods then suddenly smiles up at me. "Do you have a 'theorizing', Mummy?"

I giggle at her attempt to use that word and shake my head. "I've never given it much thought, sweetheart. Maybe I'll look into it soon,"

Rose is smiling when she gasps and starts to bounce up and down in my lap. "Wouldn't it be so cool if you solved it?" She squeaks. "You could do that!"

I'm not able to tell her that would be absurd before she goes off on a rant that is all too familiar to mine. "What if you write a book about it? Oh! Can I be your test subject? If it's safe, Mummy, I know: 'Never do anything that you know will get you hurt'. But it would be so fun! What if we do it when we get out of here?"

She continues babbling on, but I don't hear what she says. "When we get out of here". When. Not if, but when. She's counting on me, expecting me to break us out. And I promised her so much already. I promised her she'd get to pet a unicorn, to meet my friends and family, to have a normal life, and if I can't keep that promise, I won't know how I'd be able to live with myself.

But then, it hits me: This is it. Everything has been leading up to this. The rose, the stag, the abuse, the reunion with Sirius, Fred and Andi— Everything is adding up now. This is the chance that will never come again. It's now or never, I realize, and for the first time in years, I feel fire in my soul. It's the same Fire I've been feeling for the past day-and-a-half now, and something suddenly clicks inside of me.

Today is the day. Today we have to get out of here. Today we leave. It's today. My mind bursts into life with possible plans upon possible plans, and I stand up from the couch so abruptly Rose almost falls. I catch her and pull her close to my chest before she does, though, and then set her on the couch.

"I-I'm sorry, Rosie, it's just— Today— Oh my God, it's today!" I shout as a smile begins to lift my lips. "Your bath is going to have to wait, darling, it'll be worth it! Stay there, and don't move! I'll be right back!" And I rush off to the kitchen, where there's a butcher knife on display. Smiling broadly, I grab it and run back into the living area, and I see Rose sitting on the couch with a confused and frightened look on her face.

I feel her watching me as I walk over to the nearest window right out the back where the rose is sitting outside. I look at the knife in my hand then back out into the woods. I know Ron most likely put up alarms around the house if anything tries to get in or out by force. It's a risk, but I have to try. So, I hold my breath, draw back my arm, and then, with every ounce of arm strength, I bring down the knife onto the window.

There's a great sound of shattering, and when I look to my right I see that the knife has been destroyed into shards. Almost exactly afterwards the alarms go off and I hear Rosie shriek in fear from the noise. I can feel cuts start to bleed out from where the shards of knives had grazed my skin but I don't care as I dive for my daughter and hold her close to me.

I cover her ears with my hands and roll onto my side so that her back is flat against the back of the couch and I'm covering her front. It takes about two minutes for the alarms to shut off, and I pick Rose up from the couch and guide her behind me as quickly as possible. Ron is the only person who can and has to stop the alarms from ringing and I watch the door with increasing anxiety.

It only takes a second for the door to swing open with a crash that rivals the noise of the alarms. Rose flinches and whimpers behind me and I grip her tighter. Ron bursts through the door, ears redder than his hair and eyes flaming. I feel that familiar drain in me and I'm suddenly beginning to wish I hadn't done what I did. He stomps closer and closer, but just as I'm in reach and I see his hand come down to inflict some sort of pain on me, a sudden explosion of Fire swells inside my chest and I dodge his hand with such ease that even I'm surprised.

I scoop Rose into my arms and swing around to place her back onto the floor. Ron stares at me with such fury, such stagger that I'll never be able to fully comprehend what he's truly feeling. But I hold my ground and glare holes in his head for the first time in years, and all doubt I felt about myself and this vague plan my body just concocted on its own has vanished.

"YOU'RE BLOODY LUCKY THE AURORS DIDN'T COME WITH ME!" He screams. My ears pound from the intensity of the volume and I don't get a break from it either. "DO YOU KNOW HOW SKETCHY IT WAS FOR ME TO LEAVE TRYING TO COVER UP THE EXCUSE OF ALARMS GOING OFF?! THEY WOULD'VE LOVED TO CATCH THE CRIMINAL ONLY TO FIND YOU AND TAKE YOU AWAY!"

I somehow manage to find the strength in my vocal chords and mutter, "Would you even care?"

Ron looks taken aback a bit by the question and he takes a step closer. "What?" He growls.

"Would you even care?" I shout. "Admit it, Ronald! You don't love me, and all you wanted me for was to keep everything in working order so your fat, lazy arse wouldn't have to do anything! Admit that we lost what we had for that single week but you refused to let it go!"

"Because no one else would love me!" He retorts with a twisted face full of rage. His words actually revolt me and I scoff loudly in disgust.

"Oh, so Lavender didn't love you, Won-Won?" I mock. Doing so gives me a sense of power over the situation and seeing him grow angrier and more disoriented serves as a form of amusement. With a bellowed line of profanities towards me, he raises his fist high into the air and brings it plummeting down to my face. But with years of agility built up and the Fire growing more and more and more, I manage to grab Rose and spin out of the way.

Rose is shaking terribly in my arms and this time I keep holding her for the comfort I know she needs. Despite the fact that Ron is undoubtedly trying to kill me now, I have a small manic grin on my face. "Such a shame, dear, you used to be so much quicker," I spit. "I mean, we were in a war after all, and on the frontlines, too. Oh, wait," my voice changes to a mock version of pity, "you bailed on Harry and I halfway through for nearly four months. Four horrid, freezing, depressing, lonely months. That's what you do best though, isn't it? You just abandon people. It doesn't matter if it's family, friends, girlfriends, or literally anyone else. How could I be so stupid, thinking that we could actually have a life together? All we ever do is argue and fight! All we do is ignore and hurt each other, verbally or otherwise!" My tone begins to rise and turn shrilly, and alongside that Fire blooms madness of all the torturous years I've had to endure.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" He screeches, flinging his fist at me again. I effortlessly step out of the way of this one as well, and he roars with rage. Another punch is thrown, and another and another and another. I'm soon backed up against the wall and there's a triumphant, crazed smile on his lips. "You say these things but you're forgetting one thing: You're trapped here. The wards can't be broken and your magic is gone."

My eyes widen and my mind instantly tells me something's wrong with that sentence. How does he know what happened to my magic? How does he know that it's gone when, for all anyone knows, it could be dormant?

"Don't act so surprised," He chuckles darkly. "Why else do you think I'd make your rings bound to your fingers? To keep them on, maybe, but even you should know that magical wards would defeat the purpose of the house staying together without my magic."

I'm unable to speak from the shock. All this time my magic was on my fingers? I feel sick and lightheaded and tears begin to gather in the corners of my eyes. He knew? He did this, too? How? Just… how? I look at the engagement ring on my finger and my breath catches in my throat. It was never a fancy ring, to say the least. It has one small diamond in the center and then the rest is simply a silver band. The wedding band we wear is just the same silver band, too, and somehow, years ago, I persuaded myself that this wasn't a bad sign of anything. Even my parents knew that this would certainly be some sort of small alarm, because even someone from a near broke family would try their hardest to buy their bride-to-be a ring worth wearing if they truly loved them, right? God, I should've listened to Maman and Daddy when they expressed this to me.

But the worst thing is that these two meaningless symbols of our "love" has been keeping my magic from me. Just out of reach. I want to crumple up and cry, to give up again, to finally admit that there is nothing for Rose and I, that there is no end, no love, no escape, but something stops those thoughts dead in their tracks. There's another voice that takes over, slowly, but growing louder.

You will make it out. Rose will have a better life. You will have a better life. He's still waiting, he still believes you're alive, show him. Show all of them. You're still here and you're not leaving until you grow old surrounded by loved ones and friends and family.

"You're wrong," I whisper to the ground. Ron stops moving towards me, his hand itching to raise again, a confused and enraged expression on his features.

"What?" He snarls.

"I'm done with this!" I scream. "I'm not going to let you control me anymore than you already have! I'm not going to let you take Rose away! I'm done with this! I'm done with you!"

And I set Rose down onto the ground, her eyes wide with terror and cheeks wet with her tears. I take my left ring finger into my hand and start to tug viciously at the rings. It hurts so damn much but I can't stop now, I have to try, and if it's at the cost of my finger, then so be it. If it means we can escape and live normally, then I would lose every single one of my fingers. I keep tugging and pulling, and for a second a quick jab of fear that I might actually rip off my finger passes through me, but I shake it off as part of my determination. Ron has begun to move towards me now, arm raised, higher than ever, a punch that would surely knock me out cold after one hit, and so I yank harder and harder and harder, and my finger is becoming red and irritated…

"You truly were the best thing that ever happened to me, you know,"

I let out a soft gasp as those familiar, loving, gorgeous green eyes stare back into mine and it feels like home for only a moment. His words echo in my mind, his smile sending a sudden warmth through my body, his soft hand that could never be roughened by war in mine, and it all feels so real. He's still waiting. He still has hope. He's been holding onto that sliver of hope like I have for the past five years. He misses me. He remembers me. I miss him, too. I couldn't even imagine forgetting him, even if I were cursed to live forever while everyone else passed on.

These words swirl in my mind continuously, around and around, and suddenly, with a burst of strength, Fire, hope and freedom, the rings rip from my red and raw finger. Ron's hand starts to come down, and with the collective and remaining muscles in my arm, I thrust them onto the floor.

There's such a great abundance of noise and chaos that I'm convinced the town that's most likely more than five miles out can hear it. A smaller explosion flings Ron against the couch and both Rose and I against the wall. The glass suddenly shatters in a million little pieces along with the wards, and then falls onto the ground. I cover Rose with my body to shield her from the shards and I feel some cut into my back. She's clinging to me for dear life, screaming my name from the noise, shaking so harshly it seems likely that she'll be unable to even stand steadily.

And just as it had started, it stops. There's a silence so deafening from the noise just seconds ago that my ears decide to spawn a screaming demon inside of them. I sit up a bit, and the excess glass slides off my back. I look around the house and find that all the windows have shattered. There's glass covering most of the flooring and the rings sit in a small crater they created, broken in every way. I glance up at the couch which is flipped over and Ron seems to be unconscious. Seeing the window given, I stumble to my feet, hissing in pain as I feel the sharp pieces of glass cut into my back and arms. I shrug off the pain and lift Rose into my arms.

She sobbing and sniffing into my shoulder and I pull her as close as I can to my chest, trying to make her feel a sense of comfort. "It's all right, darling, it's over, we're almost free now," I whisper into her ear. Her sobbing quiets a bit and her arms tighten around me.

"Mummy…" She whimpers. "The… the picture…"

I'm caught off guard and look down at her in surprise. "What picture?"

"I need to get it!" She says suddenly, and I'm too in shock from her exclamation that she manages to slip from my grip and run off to the garage. She dodges shard after shard and I gasp in horror when my brain starts to work again.

"ROSE!" I shout, rushing after her. I'm much slower, as my feet are bigger, but I make it to the door of the garage to see her grabbing two items and running back to me, the quick pitter patter of her feet relieving me of the fear that her feet could've been pierced by millions of tiny glass shards.

In her hands I see that she had picked up both Cupcake and the photo of me holding her as a baby, and tears fill my eyes. I bend down and scoop her into my arms, and she places her head on my shoulder.

"Never run away like that, okay?" I scold shakily. Rose nods and tries to snuggle closer into me. I carry her back to the window, carefully watching my steps as there's very little room for my entire foot to fit, and by the time we reach the broken window the tips of my feet ache. I'm just about to climb out of the window when I stop suddenly and look at Rosie, whose eyes are trained on the woods and her hair blowing faintly in the soft breeze. Her face is filled with wonder beyond anything I've ever seen and my heart begins to speed up.

The sun is glowing on our skin, and it feels so indescribably uncaging. It's the first time in five years since I've felt the warmth of the sun directly on my skin, unfiltered by the windows, and it's Rose's first time ever to experience this, and I see all of her emotions in her eyes. Wonder, amazement, longing, fear. I pull her close to me and plant a gentle kiss on her head.

"Are you ready?" I ask softly. Rose simply stares outside, then switches her gaze to me and gives the tiniest of nods. A small smile pulls my lips slightly upwards and we both look out into the woods.

With a deep breath, I heave my first foot over the frame and I revel in the feeling of the soft yet somewhat pokey summer grass. Then I bring my second leg over, and just before it touches the ground, I close my eyes, breathe deeply, inhaling a fresh breeze that's almost regenerating, then let it down onto the ground. I laugh a little and wiggle my toes around, my eyes taking in the bright sun in the sky, the light blue sky with a few white, fluffy clouds, my ears absorbing the now louder-than-ever birds whose songs echo throughout the trees, my skin soaking up the sun's rays and the wind's refreshing air.

We made it. We're free now. My heart swells and I can't help but start to cry tears of joy and laugh. I spin Rosie and I around and around, until her laughs join mine and I feel as if I'll explode with happiness. I can't even comprehend anything right now; we made it! We survived and a new life is set in stone for us! I can hear the laughs of my friends and family celebrating our birthdays, the light of Rosie's candles on her birthday cake lighting up her eyes like a thousand stars, the long, summer nights I'll sit with her and tell her all about the constellations!

I can't help but shift Rose in my arms and pepper her face with kisses, taking the time to giggle and cry happily in between them. "Oh Rosie, we did it!" I exclaim. She laughs as I plant an extra long kiss on her cheek before crushing her to me. I sigh contentedly when she snuggles closer and I start to walk forwards. I stop and turn to give the house one last glance, and i smile. "Good riddance," I mutter. And as I tear my eyes from the house one last time, I feel the invisible chains on my legs and wrists shatter in nothingness.

The rose catches my eye, however, and with a smile, I bend down and pluck it from the ground. Rose watches with fascination and when I bring it up to her face, she eyes it with so much curiosity even I think it surpasses mine when I was her age.

"Is it a flower?" She asks with a sweet face.

"One of the most beautiful flowers," I reply.

"Woah…" She breathes. "What is it?" She bounces up and down slightly with excitement, clutching both Cupcake and the photo a little tighter. I chuckle quietly and slide it behind her ear, making her cinnamon orbs grow wider with awe.

"A rose," I answer. She gasps and bites her lower lip with elation, her little body vibrating even more. I grin at her reaction and she surprises me with a sudden armless hug. I eagerly return it and I stare off into the woods in front of us.

A smile forms across my face and I take a step. A step towards freedom. A step towards my family. A step towards my friends. A step towards Harry. A step towards a new life. And the rose in Rosie's ear reflects billions of little sparkles in the sun, and it's the same sparkles I see in her eyes, too.

A/N: WE DID IT BOYS WE GOT 'EM OUTTA THERE! This took so. Freaking. Long. To. Write. But it's done! I got it finished and the next chapter is going to be a nice breather from everything and an experience between Rose and Hermione I really hope I'll be able to fully capture. Thank you all so much for waiting because writer's block, school, activities and life in general can really effect the time it takes to write these chapters. Your support has been so awesome and it really gives me the motivation to continue writing even if I'm literally minutes away from falling asleep. thank you all so much and I'll see you at the next update!

~ Eclipse