About/tw:
5k words, complete. In my headcanon Teddy is a nonbinary character. They have a husband. Mentions murder and miscarriage. Probably won't make sense if you don't know any Twilight or HP canon, but you'll get by anyway.
The fem!Harry Potter timeline is shifted back so Rose Potter's birth was in 1915.
Part 1: If I should have a daughter
She was called Rose, like her mother had been Lily, like her grandmother had been Marigold. She'd been raised by Petunia and when she'd defeated Voldemort she dreamt of an unexciting life. Dating Draco had been an attempt to soothe the voices protesting that she was breaking too many traditions. She heard the whispers but she didn't heed them, the outcry that she needed to be controlled.
Instead, she thought a lot about what she'd name her first daughter: Iris, Heather, Hazel. But the night before she'd meant to marry, all her future children were ripped from her cold, cold hands.
Carlisle's gift to her was life, when all she'd wanted was death. It took a long time for Rose to forgive him for that.
.oOo.
The venom had robbed her of everything that made up Rose. She hadn't realised how much she needed them until the scars were wiped off her skin. Without the lightning bolt on her forehead, she could not be the girl-who-lived.
When the venom stripped the magic from her, she could no longer be a witch. Rosalie Hale, Carlisle named her. Bare as a newborn, it took a long time to find out who she was underneath.
.oOo.
When she slipped through their wards to kill first Flint, then Nott, Smith, and finally Malfoy, she was wearing her grandmother's wedding dress. The stains would require bleach, but that look on their faces was priceless.
She packed a single bag and sent off Hedwig with a note. Hermione and Ron were newlywed and pregnant, she didn't want them worrying.
With Carlisle's gentle presence by her side, she fled to America.
.oOo.
Bloodlust barely bothered her, drinking animal blood was simple. She'd never gotten what she wanted in life either.
When her power started to trickle in again, it felt like relearning an old friend. Puzzle pieces matching up in the wrong places, the edges frayed and worn. The dregs were enough for Rosalie to rebuild her occlumency first of all.
"I can't hear your thoughts anymore," Edward had said, his voice echoing pain.
She'd answered with a sneer.
Carlisle seemed convinced she and Edward would warm up to each other eventually, but they were beings of stone and ice.
There was warmth out there in Teddy, in Hermione and Ron, in living things with beating hearts that she watched like scenes framed in windows.
When her best friends brought the daughter they'd named Rose to visit her empty grave, she cried.
.oOo.
A vampire could not wield a wand, but with time she relearned a few spells.
Lumos, though she could see perfectly no matter how dark the night.
A ward that shielded her when the Unspeakables came looking, making her appear a perfectly undead citizen of America.
A spell that numbed her senses to the writhing human masses, so that she didn't need to feel.
.oOo.
When she saw Emmett, with dimples and curls like Teddy's, he was laughing his last as he crawled from a bear. It took one look to fall head over heels for the idea of him.
Carlisle turned him without asking questions, and she would count that as a point in his favour forever.
Emmett taught her to dance, to laugh, to throw herself headlong into living.
"May I?" he asked every time he wanted to hold her hand, and when he eventually asked to kiss her she'd smiled and said yes.
Their relationship was a simple exchange of unconditional love and reciprocated consent.
He called her Rosie and looked at her like she'd hung the moon. Emmett was the only truly good thing that had ever happened to her, and on some days he even convinced her she deserved it.
.oOo.
The world turned, their family grew. They moved from state to state, school to school, one hospital to the next.
It was impossible not to love Esme when she joined them; Rosalie had yearned for a mother. When Rosalie confided in her about how she'd lived and died, Esme redid all the houses with light colours and open spaces, and made sure there was never a cupboard under their stairs.
Rosalie always wanted a big family, so when Alice and Jasper danced into her life, their presence was a balm she hadn't even known she was missing.
Then Edward met his singer and nothing was ever the same again.
.oOo.
Bella was plain, ignorant, in over her head, and entirely too good at rushing headlong into the stupidest danger she could find. There was even a scar on her forehead from an accident when she'd been a child. Rosalie loathed Bella Swan with her entire being, and she knew it was because the girl reminded Rosalie of herself.
They were breaking the law when Edward told Bella their truths. If she'd needed sleep it would have kept Rosalie up at night, how the Volturi might come and shatter them all. Aro would touch Edward and learn Rosalie's secrets; he'd hand her over to the Ministry's Dementors, or even the Unspeakables.
They would practice taking her apart and putting her limbs back together again. Little girls were not meant to grow up to defeat Dark Lords. A woman was never meant to master the Hallows. Dark Creatures could not kill a pureblood wizard, let alone four. Vampires should not be able to wield magic.
"We need to leave," Rosalie said. She could write a letter to MACUSA, have the girl obliviated. It would be alright, she would make it alright. It had been a long time since she'd managed to save anyone.
"I can't stay away from her," Edward whined, and their family listened.
.oOo.
Rosalie heard Edward telling Bella about their abilities, saying the only gift Rosalie had was beauty. He spun his girl a lie out of spider-silk about how Rosalie was jealous. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful or not that he was upholding the Statute, guarding her truth.
Rosalie approved of Bella's fear whenever their eyes met across the room; her biggest regret was not having listened to her instincts.
When things were too much, Rosalie buried herself under her cars, practicing the art of reassembling, of a transformation that took place entirely out of sight. Bella expanded into their lives. Rosalie contracted into herself.
.oOo.
I'm posting 2000 words every day of December 2021, including the other three chapters of this. Have a wonderful month full of stories, my friends.