How Rosemary came to be…
Rosemary landed relatively close to the Ministry entrance. It was swarming with wizards and witches calling for the immediate death of Severus Snape. She managed to wriggle through the throngs and enter the booth.
"Rosemary Peans to see prisoner, Severus Snape."
The badge was spit out and she was lowered to the floor where they held the prisoners awaiting trial or Azkaban. She found the hall with little to no help. It was hardly a task to see the line of Ministry employees gawking at the man that killed Albus Dumbledore.
She felt a tug on her shoulder and glanced up to the soft eyes of Remus Lupin. Sirius and Harry were behind him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked her.
She looked up at him hoping upon hope that she could think of the right words to say to him to get his help. But nothing came.
"Come on. You know something about Lily's parents, I'm sure. You're going to tell us. And then we will see about him," Remus nodded towards Severus, who was standing in the middle of room with his back turned to the spectators he'd garnered.
The found an empty room, of course since everyone's attentions were elsewhere, and sat down around a table.
"What do you want to know?" she asked looking at no one in particular.
"You and Lily were very close. I remember that. But these two don't," Remus motioned to the two dark haired men to his left, "so start at the beginning."
She sighed. "I'll tell you what I was told. But don't ask me how this information came to me. That I cannot tell you right now."
The dark haired man strode confidently in to the pub, his friends followed close behind. He gave the bartender an undetermined amount of galleons, the origin of which was never questioned. The man dismissively waved to the pack behind him.
"Entertainment,' he said to the barkeep.
The older man knew the other's intentions immediately, and although he questioned the young man's age in his mind, the weight of the bag of coins quickly made up for it. "Room 16," he said with a smirk.
The man and his group continued down the damp, dank corridor. When they reached the room, the door opened as if their presence was expected.
"Oh what have we got here? A few boys trying to become men in one night?"
The man, having glared at the woman, pushed his way in, thus effectively showing the men behind him that he was in control.
The woman looked at him with condescendence.
"And who do you think you are, boy?"
His hand quickly gripped her neck as he pushed her against the wall. "I am your client for the evening and you will show more respect if you want to walk out of here in the morning with little more than soreness," he seethed into her face. His patrons in the hall smirked at her as they entered the room.
The woman cowered under his stare. "I'll have the other ladies attend to your friends." She dismissed herself quickly and just as quickly reappeared with six rather young women.
The man shut the door hard and fast as the woman began untying her corset.
"What do you mean you can't possibly keep staying here?"
"I should have left years ago. But now, I have something far better to worry about than just myself," she said as she placed a gentle hand on her lower abdomen.
The pale girl across from her gaped. "Caricia! No! Didn't you use…"
The woman shook her head solemnly. "No. I was too frightened that night to remember."
"What will you do?"
Caricia shrugged. "Hope that this child will one day find a peaceful world awaiting it."
The woman hugged her confidant and walked away from the horrors of her life.
"Mr. Wolfe? What are we to do with the girl?"
The healer looked up from his bloody hands. "Send her to Mrs. Cole. I'll take care of this," he said grimly as he stood at the foot of the bed. He walked over to the side and gently closed the eyes of the mother that would never see her baby. Caricia had hemorrhaged during childbirth and died.
"Oh, bless! Poor dear! How something so sweet and innocent could come from such a harlot I'll never know. Seen too many in my day," Mrs. Cole said as she tucked the infant into her bassinet. "I'll have to come up with a name for you, now won't I? You're mother didn't last long enough to name you. What do you say to Mary?"
The baby girl cooed and it was apparent to the director of the orphanage that the child needed rest.
It was the spring of 1959.
Mary had been on a trip to the museum with her adoptive parents, Jack and Abagail Arithorpe, when she spotted him. She'd seen him before. He lived a few houses down from Abagail's mother. It was today, however, that she noticed he was looking back at her.
Advising her mother that she wanted to go back to their hotel, Mary was able to sneak away.
"Don't I know you?"
The man had auburn hair and bright eyes. He somehow managed to follow her to the café at the corner.
"Yes, I believe you do. You live on the same boulevard as my grandmother, Mrs. Jenkins," Mary replied.
"Oh, yes! Lovely woman. You must be Mary. She talks often of you when I help with her gardening. However, she made it seem as if you were younger."
Mary feigned surprise. "Oh?"
"Fifteen?"
She smiled sweetly. "Eighteen," she said, knowing full well her glamour was working perfectly.
He smiled back with a new glint to his eyes. He reached his hand out and took hers to leave a chaste, yet flirtatious kiss on the back of it. "My name is Martin. Martin Evans."
The wedding was nonexistent. Martin and Mary had eloped against the strong protestations of Mr. and Mrs. Arithorpe.
They were sitting at the table to dinner when an owl began tapping at the window.
"What the bloody hell is that?" Martin asked his new wife of two months. Mary got up to inspect and found the owl to be that of her parents.
"Oh, just a rogue bird trying to perch where there isn't room," she said as she made sure he couldn't see her take the missive as she shooed the owl away. "I'll be freshening up for our evening out. I'll be right back."
Mary hurriedly shut herself into the bedroom and began reading the letter.
Dear Mary,
We know what you have done, and we know where you are. As a witch, you should have known the consequences of such action, beside the fact that you are underage! What are you to do with school? We prevented your attendance to Hogwarts and hired that tutor just so you wouldn't have to be ridiculed for your bloodline. We don't know who your parents really are and I'm afraid that could be detrimental to your studies. That's why we set this up for you. Now you throw it all away for some childish crush.
We knew this boy when you were running around in nappies, for Merlin's sake! Does he even know how young you are? This is not acceptable! Not to mention, he's a muggle! Does he know you're a witch?
You are to return home immediately and then we will have the contract negated by the Ministry.
Mum and Dad
Mary began to cry. Keeping up this charade for these many weeks began to drain her energy. She broke down. Everything seemed to be falling apart. Martin wasn't as loving as she had thought he'd be, and now her parents were close to disowning her for acting her age, more or less.
Herself loathing was interrupted when the door to thebedroom was opened. Martin looked down into the face of his very young looking wife, completely surprised by the way her features softened right before his eyes.
"What…what…How old are you?"
"Martin, please?"
"You are fifteen!"
Disgusted with himself for the fact that he bedded a girl for the past two months, Martin quickly escaped the seemingly confining walls of the house and stopped first to the local whiskey vendor and then next to his friend who happened to be an attorney.
Months later, Mary discovered that shortly after their marriage was annulled, Martin had remarried a woman that he knew through his father. Iris was married before and had a small daughter. Mary knew of Martin's affinity for flowers, so for him to marry a woman named Iris who had a daughter named Petunia was no small feat for her to believe. Martin didn't mind marrying a woman with a child. He always wanted children. The two of them had another daughter, Lily, shortly after Mary gave birth to her own. Martin never knew she was pregnant the day he walked out on her. She was to tell him that night over dinner. Rose was the most beautiful name she could think of to honor the baby's father.
The silence of the room was shattered as Rose finished her tale by the noisy clambering of the people outside in the hall.
Muttered voices were barely audible but the words 'Snape' and 'escaped' seemed to boom.
Author notes: hmmm... yeah took me hours of researching time lines and some quick thinking to make this actually work, but you know... it doesn't seem all that bad... there are a couple quirky coincidences in the chapter that the most avid HBP reader will discover. I hope you enjoy this little glimpse into the life of Rosemary and what it could possibly entail for Harry. Not to mention the twist with Snape!