1. Thanks a lot to SnowBear17 for helping me beta this story.
2. Any error here is mine and not from my reviewer. If you spot anything or have a doubt about the grammar used or plot just PM me, I'm always swift to answer.
3. I know it has been a while, but hey, here we are, an update. My profile usually has up to date status on each story
4. I also have a twitter account that I'm going to use for similar purposes. Account is TimeTravelFFics
5. Thanks for the reviews so far and enjoy.
Professor McGonagall dropped by the Burrow on Tuesday, intending to discuss the logistics of their Hogwarts' arrangements. Rose, who had been impatiently glancing at the clock all morning, noticed that the firm knock on the door came precisely at the agreed-upon hour. Not a second too late.
Rose sprung up to her feet, exchanging a knowing look with her brother. The past few days had been completely mad for the both of them, and she still didn't know what to make of the latest development in their situation. One week ago she couldn't stand the idea of never seeing her father ever again, and now she had been offered to do so and was irrationally afraid of the outcome.
"She's not Dumbledore. She just wants to sort things out," Hugo whispered.
"I know, now shut up," Rose retorted.
She didn't have the patience for her brother's reassurance. Not when the day before he had given her the idea that McGonagall could rescind the offer, causing her to torment herself with worry. They just couldn't take it back. Not now, afterRose had built so many hopeful thoughts around it.
Tall and severe, Minerva McGonagall walked into the living room with a deliberate step. As the professor formally greeted the Weasleys, Rose tried to straighten her posture as best as she could.
Grandpa and Uncle Bill had taken the day off for the meeting. They both appeared attentive at the sight of the professor, yet not as wary as if it had been Professor Dumbledore before them.
"Miss Weasley, I presume?" Professor McGonagall asked once they had all sat down, already knowing the answer. Grandma sat next to Hugo and her, giving them a comforting smile.
The future headmistress was just as Rose remembered, though she was missing a few grey hairs and wrinkles. Her stern gaze felt eerily familiar to Rose, not far from the one her own mother wore whenever she wanted to get to the bottom of some misdeed. That didn't ease the girl one bit, as sometimes it was more difficult to get by her mother than a Quidditch Keeper with a luck potion.
"I, err, yes professor. My name is Rose, and this is my brother Hugo," she said as the boy nodded next to her. She had sounded a tad more nervous than intended, but under the professor's gaze, she couldn't help but feel like a first year again.
Professor McGonagall answered with a nod, it was obvious she was aware of much more than their names. "You may not know me, but I'm Minerva McGonagall. Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and, by the current circumstances, your new Transfiguration professor and Head of House."
"We do know who you are, professor," Hugo said, wincing when Rose gave him a warning glance.
A brief silence followed, which Rose recognized as her cue. She opened her mouth, ready to apologize for the Time-Turner incident, but she just couldn't recite the explanation she had practised. She was rubbish at this. How did James and Freddie manage to throw excuse after excuse, all the while with a steady voice whenever they were caught in some bout of mischief? It was really beyond her. They could find a reason why a dwarf had pranced into the Slytherin common room retching up dung, but Rose couldn't tell an objective recount of an event for the life of her.
Unlike some of her cousins, Rose always had the good sense to avoid landing in the headmistress' office. Feeling the accusative look of the professor was something new to her, and she didn't know how to handle it. But she went on with it as best as she could. "I was the one who took the Time-Turner. I know it was wrong, and I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking when I brought us here."
"It was my fault as well," Hugo interjected.
"Hugo…"
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, giving them a level look. "There's no need for you to dwell on this. I'm not here to accuse you of anything," she started. "Nevertheless, I do want to express my position on the matter."
Rose and Hugo tensed, awaiting her judgement, which didn't take long. "I opposed the idea of obliviation as I found it wrong and detrimental to our stance in this war. That, however, does not mean I agree with anything you did. Time travel is a serious matter, something I imagined any children of Miss Granger would be aware of," the professor said, pausing briefly. "For better or for worse I have come to rely on your mother's sound judgement, and she has seldom let me down. I know it would be unfair of me to expect you to be her, but I hope this was the honest mistake it appears to be. I will be watching over you, and I trust you'll change this first impression and display more conscious decision-making in the future. Please, do not fail that trust."
"We won't," Rose said immediately. Her brother was quick to back her up, but was having trouble holding McGonagall's stern gaze.
The professor sighed at last, and her features relaxed, only slightly. "That being said, what's done is done. Our focus should be on minimizing further damage to the timeline."
"Why, of course," Rose's grandmother hurried to say.
Rose tucked a loose strand of her unruly red hair behind her ear. She had expected as much from the professor. In the future, Rose had never had a meaningful conversation with Professor McGonagall, but she was still perfectly aware of the unyielding sense of right and wrong she possessed. They had undoubtedly started on the wrong foot due to the whole situation and, naturally, Rose had felt bad about disappointing her.
The conversation went on, with the professor putting a strong emphasis on not letting anyone know who they really were once they were at Hogwarts. That was especially true for Rose's parents and godparents.
"I do realize the position this puts you through. Even so, it is of paramount importance that we do so and that you refrain from further changing anything that could affect this timeline. Do you understand this?"
The look Professor McGonagall gave them was one of her more intense yet, and Rose knew what it meant. It was more of a warning than an accusation, as if to remind them of what was at stake. The professor knew she wouldn't be able to watch them every second of the day at Hogwarts and that they were aware of it, yet she still was trying to remind them of the consequences of going against the plan. Rose was conscious of those consequences, if they changed the timeline even more than they already had, the war could be lost and her cousins might end up not being born at all. She didn't like to be reminded of it, but she supposed that was the price she had to pay for having been so reckless.
At her side, Hugo looked doubtful and a tad nervy at the professor's lingering question, but not Rose. "We understand, professor."
They'll see. I'll make everyone proud of my judgement from now on.
Professor McGonagall stared at them, as if wondering how much she could trust them. Rose was composed enough to hold her look.
"I believe them, Minerva," said Rose's grandfather. "Rose and Hugo did wrong, but they want to help fix this. I can't presume to have known them for more than a handful of days, but it seems to me this wasn't common behaviour for them. Just an impulsive decision on their part."
"Which was understandable, considering the circumstances," added Rose's grandmother promptly.
"Again, I'm not judging their past actions which, mistaken as they were, I do understand. It was… troubling, to learn about their father," the professor said, her sternness faltering into sadness for a moment before composing herself. "I only want to make sure we're all on the same page from now on."
"We'll stay away from them," Rose insisted. It hurt to say those words, because she truly meant them. Hogwarts was going to be both a blessing and an excruciating curse.
"We promise," Hugo swore.
Uncle Bill moved to put a reassuring hand on Hugo's shoulder. "They'll do fine, professor. Can we move on to the important part?"
Relaxing her brow, Professor McGonagall nodded. "Very well."
Thorough advice on how to conduct themselves at Hogwarts followed, particularly towards Rose who was going to be in her parents' same house and year. A lucky hit, as Rose had never felt particularly brave.
Rose took the chance to ask about the Trace, which had been on her mind since Uncle Bill mentioned it. Professor McGonagall eyed them suspiciously at that, and even Rose's grandfather was taken aback.
"The Trace involves powerful and complex magic, Miss Weasley. Only a few are privy to it's details, I'm afraid. I honestly ignore how it would work in your situation," the professor explained. "Whatever the case, I don't think it's something we should concern ourselves with for the time being."
Rose gave her a resigned nod.
The most remarkable part of the meeting came near the end, when they discussed their appearances.
Rose had imagined they would have to do something about it, as they couldn't just enter the common room looking so much like their parents without raising any questions. Professor McGonagall had decided to go for simple spells instead of Polyjuice Potion, spells that Rose and Hugo would need to master as soon as possible.
At first, Rose was sceptical that those would be enough, but her doubts were dispelled once she saw what McGonagall was capable of.
"Blimey! Guess you'll be able to brush your hair now," said Hugo as he looked at Rose, wide-eyed.
The mirror her grandmother had summoned showed Rose just as baffled, though not looking like Rose at all. Her hair was still short, but it was straight and black now, with no frizziness to it whatsoever. There were no traces of freckles either, and her eyes were as dark as they could get. Hugo was black-haired as well, and the shape of his nose had been changed as subtly as Rose's eyebrows. It was impressive, and she had to stare very closely and for quite some time to see any traces of her parents' likeness on them.
"Nicely done, professor," Uncle Bill complimented.
"Do I need to remind you of my area of expertise, Mr Weasley?" Professor McGonagall answered, raising an eyebrow with a hint of a smile, the first Rose had seen since she arrived.
"Absolutely not."
The professor turned to Rose and Hugo, appraising her handiwork. "Wallace," she said, "That will be your last name while at Hogwarts. It's better to keep your first names, to avoid unintended errors."
They nodded, still mesmerized by their reflections.
Rose Wallace. I'm Rose Wallace now, the girl thought as she, once again, stared at the mirror.
Professor McGonagall kept going on over other details, but her voice went unheard to Rose. All of her attention was set on her new appearance and, surprisingly enough, she felt just as sad as she was impressed by the spells. It was as if everything she had ever associated with who she was had suddenly vanished. The black-haired girl looking at her from the other side of the mirror was a complete stranger to her. Rose realized then, that just when she needed to be as courageous as her father to deal with Hogwarts, she had lost what reminded her of him the most.
o0o0o
As if Professor McGonagall's words hadn't given Rose enough remorse as it was, their shopping trip had been arranged to be on that same day.
It was reasoned that it was as good of a time as any, and that it was better to get it done while they still looked nothing like a Weasley. Hugo had almost jumped in joy when they were told about the trip, and even Rose had initially thought it would give them a much-needed break from the maddening week they had experienced. However, more than anything else, Diagon Alley turned out to be Rose's first real glimpse of war.
Uncle Bill had warned them beforehand about what they would see on the other side of the Leaky Cauldron, but it was still far worse than whatever Rose could have imagined.
Diagon Alley was a shadow of what it was supposed to be. It was a wretched old place with hardly any resemblance of life left to it. Long gone were the colourful displays in the shop windows, or the loud packs of students running from one store to another. Instead, Rose only found a grey and desolate place, a collection of dejected buildings where the very merchandise hid behind the warning posters and endless lines of boarded-up windows.
"A bleeding shame, I know," Uncle Bill admitted, noticing their stunned faces. "It'll be its old self once all of this is over. You'll see."
Rose pressed her lips together, unable to form a reply.
"I take it back. I can't call your place a pile of rubbish anymore," Hugo said to their uncle, but his tone was lacklustre and didn't make anyone smile.
They went on mostly in silence, shopping only for the strictly necessary items and without drawing too much attention to themselves. Just as Grandma had insisted on.
The Wallace disguises were reliable, as no one would take them for prime targets. Undercover Aurors were supposed to be around as well, which should've lessened Rose's nerves more, but something about the jarring look of Diagon Alley took away any reassurance.
"It's safer than it looks," their uncle said.
He was their only visible companion, to keep any suspicions at a minimum. Before leaving, he had managed to charm his appearance decently enough to pass as their father. Uncle Bill was now black-haired and well-groomed, with no amulets or leather bracelets in sight. Rose imagined that if he hadn't safeguarded those, her grandmother might have found a way of getting rid of them by now.
Rose was glad to have him. She felt safer, something they undoubtedly needed in their current surroundings. Everything reminded her of the danger they were in. But nothing as much as the wanted posters. Some of them had a grinning madwoman on display, Bellatrix Lestrange, a person who Rose had unfortunately read a lot about.
This was the world she had brought her brother into.
Why did I have to take that ruddy thing? Rose asked herself, not for the first time.
Most of Rose's shopping trips had been anything but dangerous. When it was that time of the year, she would usually make plans for the day with some of her friends or cousins. Hugo would ask about the price of everything, before picking the first thing he had laid his eyes upon. Roxanne — always spirited as she was — would hurry Rose to Quality Quidditch Supplies, so they could ogle at the new broom models together. Dom would insist on getting her premium parchment, which she was obsessed with even though it cost far too much. Not to mention that it worked just the same as regular parchment. At some point, Rose would meet her friends Laura and Tabby at the bookshop and chat eagerly about the year to come. Then, after everything had been taken care of, she would share ice cream with Scorpius, sometimes with Albus annoyingly tagging along.
"It's a wonder people are still selling stuff," she said out loud after getting their quills and parchment.
"People need to buy supplies, including the Death Eaters," Uncle Bill answered, frowning. "I reckon even they don't want this place gone."
"Then why are they doing this?" Hugo asked, his eyebrows curved in such a way that couldn't hide how upset he was. He had always been so easy to read.
"Fear. Intimidation. You name it. They'll want to have the place for themselves once it's all over, at any rate."
"But the people—"
"Collateral damage." Compared to Uncle Bill's normally easy-going tone, the emotionless words seemed to startle Hugo and even Rose.
Anger was something Rose was familiar with. It came to her once in a while, when the situation asked for it. It came then, when she saw Ollivander's wand shop, boarded up like the dozens of other shops.
Mr Ollivander would know about the Trace, she thought, but not that it matters now.
"Why don't they just leave?" she blurted out in a harsh tone. "The shop owners?"
"Some did. Bolted away as soon as it started," their uncle explained, "but others, however, stayed. I guess they hope all of this will be over soon, so they resist. Their way of fighting, you could say. It's not easy to give up on one's home after all, as... as some others do."
His expression darkened and Rose knew that he was thinking about Uncle Percy. It didn't feel right; Uncle Percy was a good man who loved his family. Granted, he had made a mistake once but… hadn't Rose done so as well?
"Err… Dad?" Rose asked awkwardly. She had kept their cover, though her heart stung when she realized she hadn't called anyone by that name in a while.
"What is it?"
"About—" Rose started, but was cut off before she could argue in Uncle Percy's favour.
"Rose, look!" exclaimed Hugo.
Rose's parchment almost fell from her hands when she looked where Hugo was pointing. Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour had been boarded up as well, but there was something that set it apart from the rest. The tables were in shambles and the walls had undoubtedly known fire sometime recently.
"Florean was kidnapped earlier this year. Unfortunately, one of the many who suffered that fate," Uncle Bill said, gritting his teeth. "They'll answer for that. For all of it."
As she stared, Rose's anger faded into sorrow. For a beat, she could almost see herself and Scorpius laughing at one of those tables. The boy telling her that he liked her new haircut while she answered that he was mental, flustered all the same. Then, the images blew away like smoke.
Did you care about me, Rose? Wasn't I good enough to make you stay? Scorpius' voice echoed in her head.
A knot formed in her throat. Rose did care about him, plenty. Maybe she didn't say it often and joked a lot about how much of a prat he was, but she was sure Scorpius knew... He must have known. Surely… Didn't he?
Oh Merlin, I should have told him...
Her memories haunted Rose for a while. Hugo asked if she was okay at some point and even Uncle Bill noticed that she was upset, but they didn't press her any further.
Before long, they had bought their school robes and were ready to go. In a way, Rose was thankful, since she couldn't wait to go back to the Burrow and put all of this out of her mind. An opinion that wasn't shared by her brother, however.
"Can't we go to the twins' shop?" he asked.
"The plan was to do this fast. Only the essentials," Uncle Bill reminded reluctantly.
"Come on Un— Dad!" Hugo corrected himself quickly. "We won't take long."
Uncle Bill considered it, throwing a worried glance at Rose. She must have looked like rubbish and in urgent need of cheering, because her uncle relented. "Only a moment, though. And not a word to Mum about it."
o0o0o
Rose didn't know how they had done it. She had half-expected the joke shop to be a shadow of its future self, as everything else at Diagon Alley was. However, the shop stood — if possible — even more striking than in any of Rose's memories.
Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was a vibrant carnival of loud colours and flying trinkets that whooshed by in erratic patterns. How Tom Riddle had allowed that little spark of madness live was well beyond Rose.
It didn't matter that Rose had seen the marvels of that shop for all of her life, she still stared stupidly around in the hope of not missing anything. There were some fake moustaches that a young man was looking at, while a blond woman went over the WonderWitch line not far away.
My father had been a part of this, Rose remembered.
As they walked around the shop, Rose was transported back to her childhood. Her dad had brought her countless times to work, and she could almost see herself as a little girl rushing through the aisles now. Back then, Hugo tried to take every product on display, causing their father major distress. Most of the stuff here wasn't exactly child-friendly, after all.
"It's a new line, and we have special prices today for— Hugo! Drop that telescope! You'll get a black eye!... I'm sorry, can you excuse me?" Dad had dozens of similar exchanges with customers, right before he stormed away to Hugo's aid. "Bollocks! Your mother is going to kill me!"
By the time he had Hugo under control and returned to his task, her father would pleasantly realize that Rose had already given the customers all the pricing information available.
"Quite a smart little girl you have there," someone would usually say.
"Oh, you have no idea. We're lucky to have her, " her father would answer with a large smile. "She's as brilliant as her mother, she is."
And just like that, Rose would beam giddily for the rest of the day.
It was a conflicting feeling the one Rose had staring at the shop now. A part of her ached because she couldn't see her father there, but another part was happy at the warm feeling the memory had evoked in her.
Rose didn't support mischievous deeds just for the fun of it, but that didn't mean she didn't appreciate clever magic whenever she saw it. Besides, she had spent a good chunk of her childhood in this shop and, as much as she would deny it to James or Hugo, she was fond of plenty of things there.
The self-writing quills were the first thing they looked at, but Hugo and Rose soon split up. Her brother was anxious to have a look at the sticky trainers for some reason, while she felt more compelled to explore the WonderWitch products. There, Rose found a bottle of Ten-Second Pimple Removal, which she hated to admit had been helpful on one of her first dates with Scorpius.
Rose forced herself to keep looking around, in an attempt to keep the unavoidable gloominess that train of thought would lead her to at bay. That was when she saw the love potions.
It was a mesmerizing display of pinks, magentas and reds. Flirting Fancies, Crush Blush and Heartbreak Teardrops… Rose knew all of them, though she had never looked at them as she did now. It wasn't like she needed them for herself, she had gotten a boyfriend without them and she wasn't thinking about anything resembling romance at that time. Still, she was captivated by the stylish flasks and lifted one containing Cupid Crystals just to get a better look.
"Now what do we have here? A girl looking for love, perhaps?" A playful voice startled her out of her thoughts; it was one of the twins.
"I was just looking around," Rose said at once, swiftly putting the flask back on its place.
"Save it, Rose. We get that all the time," her uncle said, apparently aware of her real identity. "It's disappointing, actually. I thought any niece of mine would come up with a better excuse."
"Uncle George!" Rose said, scandalized, before realizing that she was revealing the very secret she was trying to conceal. "They might hear us," she whispered anxiously, holding her black hair, a habit of hers.
"Who?"
Rose turned and discovered that, aside from her family, the shop was mostly empty. Students were away at Hogwarts after all.
"We should be careful either way."
Her uncle shrugged carelessly. "Anyways, my name is Fred. Not George," he said, pointing to the name tag on his apron. "And I was just providing valuable advice to a customer."
Rose nodded apprehensively. She had never been alone with Uncle Fred before, and was very much afraid of revealing his fate by mistake. "Err… how so?" she asked.
It was a given that Uncle Fred had found her reaction suspicious, but he brushed it off and took a small round flask off of the display. "Kissing Concoction," he announced triumphantly. "For a pair of lovebirds who are already head over heels for each other— as your parents are— this is a handy solution."
"Solution? You can't possibly mean that I—" Rose's mouth dropped open momentarily. "We can't do that, we promised!" she cried. Even so, her eyes rebelliously went to the flask with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
"Think of it as a safety net. Just in case things go south. I see you have a free space or two on that handsome potion kit of yours anyways." Her uncle winked mischievously, holding the flask in front of her face as if to make it tempting.
Her shopping bag had been left open, her potion kit visible. Rose quickly closed it and put it away from her uncle's prying eyes. "No. We'll do things as we're supposed to," she insisted, frowning.
"What are you two going on about?" Uncle Bill said, appearing suddenly.
"Nothing!" said Rose, glancing nervously away. Uncle Fred shrugged much more casually.
"Whatever, we should be going now," Uncle Bill said.
Before they left, the twins offered some merchandise free of charge. Hugo gladly took a thing or two, but Rose refused, afraid that her uncles were trying to give her a love potion in front of Uncle Bill.
"We can change anything you need," one of the twins said to Hugo on their way out, catching the boy by surprise.
"You know, in case things don't seem to fit." The other twin grinned.
Hugo nodded hesitantly and to Rose, it appeared as if they had made him nervous. She couldn't tell why, it was obvious they were simply talking about the sticky trainers' size.
Whatever the case, they left the joke shop in a much better mood. And, thankfully, without any love potions on them.
o0o0o
Rose thought that was going to be it for the day. That they were going to floo home without anything remarkable happening. However, her plans to muse over their shopping trip and impending birthday were delayed by a glimpse of an unexpected source of light.
The dim light was shining from one of the shops, as shy as any other. The fact that it came from one of the boarded-up windows caught her attention briefly, but not as much as realizing whose shop it belonged to.
At that, Rose gasped.
"What is it?" Hugo asked, following her gaze. "Wait, isn't that Ollivander's? There's someone there!"
Uncle Bill, who had also noticed the mysterious light, put a hand in front of Hugo when the boy took a step forward. "Don't. It could be them," he warned, with a firm voice. "I have to take you back. Now."
Rose reckoned he was right, they could be in danger the longer they lingered. She made to follow her uncle as he guided Hugo away discreetly, but her curiosity got the best out of her and she turned to view the shop once more. First noticing that the door was slightly ajar and that a man was going through something near the window, she strained her eyes for a more thorough look. She was just wondering what in Merlin's pants the Death Eaters could be looking for in that ravaged shop when she recognized the man. The man that could quite possibly give her the answers that she needed.
Leaving all common sense behind, Rose ran to the shop, barely minding her uncle's shout of warning behind her. Perhaps she was making a mistake — but Rose didn't have time for careful consideration.
With a bang, she pushed the door all the way open and turned to the man inside, who was very much caught by surprise. The man had jumped backwards, almost stumbling over a broken wooden shelf. His hands clumsily scrabbled through his pockets until what appeared to be his wand fell to the floor with a clatter. By the time the man had fumbled through the wooden debris and picked it up, he found himself behind someone else's wand.
"Drop it!" Uncle Bill said, aiming steadily at the man, who was horrified at the sudden turn of events.
"Please, I have a family," he pleaded.
Loudly, Hugo rushed inside the shop. "Rose!"
"I told you to stay outside!" their uncle barked at him, not taking his eyes away from his target.
"I— I wanted to help," Hugo mumbled worriedly, trying to understand the scene before him.
A furious glance from Uncle Bill was directed at both siblings, but Rose was far more focused on the man instead of on her uncle's future reprimanding. "Mr Ollivander?" she asked, bewildered.
The man nodded in confusion, still quite afraid.
Uncle Bill raised an eyebrow, reminding Rose of when he had found them outside of the Burrow. "You're Ollivander?" he asked sceptically, studying the man before him.
"Err… yes, I— I am," Ollivander said. "Not the Ollivander, mind you. That's my father. My name is Giselbert."
Uncle Bill, lowered his wand, but only slightly. He was still clearly suspicious of the man claiming to be Ollivander. "I'm William Wallace, and these are my children, Rose and Hugo. I, well, we're sorry about this. We mean no harm," he said, eyeing Rose reproachfully.
William Wallace, why not? Rose thought.
Putting his wand away, Mr Ollivander greeted them more calmly. He must have realized two children and an adult were unlikely to be Death Eaters by now. "Hogwarts age, I see."
"They have been homeschooled for all of their previous education, but it was about time they had the whole experience, if you know what I mean."
"I do," Mr Ollivander said, though he still eyed them curiously. If he thought they had chosen the worst of times to switch from being homeschooled to going to Hogwarts, he didn't mention it.
Mr Ollivander was a big man with a full face and curly brown hair; while he appeared to be younger than Rose's grandparents, he was nowhere near Uncle Bill's age. Regardless of the impression his uncommon eyes may have given — which were almost silver in colour — he was undoubtedly one of the most approachable and gentle men Rose had ever known.
"I'm sorry about this, Mr Ollivander. I saw the light on your window and thought, hoped actually—" Rose started, struggling with her words.
"That my father was back?" the man guessed, giving her a sad smile.
In all truth, Rose's first thought had been about the man before her, not his father who she had never met in person. Still, she nodded anyway.
Mr Ollivander gave her a comforting glance that didn't quite hide his grief. "Magical Britain seems incomplete without him, doesn't it?" he said dejectedly.
"He'll come back," Hugo blurted out without thinking.
"Yes, he will. We're all counting on it," Uncle Bill added quickly, giving Hugo a careful look.
"That's what I wish for the most, but these are dreadful days, you know," the man admitted, pushing some broken pieces of wood lazily to the side. "I've been coming back for the past few days, trying to salvage what I can from this wretched place. It might be mad, but the best part is the first two seconds it takes me to open that door. I can almost picture him waiting for me with a brand new discovery he's keen on sharing. Alas, he's never there," Mr Ollivander said wistfully, eyeing the broken counter on his left.
"He's very important to everyone. Hard to match, the dedication he always put into finding each person's wand," Uncle Bill offered.
Mr Ollivander almost chuckled but the sadness didn't leave him, "Of course, the wand chooses the wizard. Doesn't it?"
"Err… Mr Ollivander?" Rose asked, feeling quite daring. Subtly, Uncle Bill checked his watch, surely to check they weren't staying for too long.
The man nodded, signaling for her to voice her mind.
"I was wondering— with everything that's been going on— that since we could be in a sudden need of using our wands and, well, I wanted to know if you could tell us a bit about the Trace."
Uncle Bill raised a questioning eyebrow at her, while Mr Ollivander simply sat down on the first solid chair he found, considering his answer. "Well, that's… I see…" He scratched his chin and leaned back, brow furrowed. "The Trace is a rather complex piece of magic, young girl. Its details are very guarded, shared only with a few people."
"We didn't come here to impose or burden you with questions you might have no knowledge of It's understandable if you find my daughter's request to be impossible to answer."
"No, It's… alright, I reckon. She does have a point. It's a difficult world out there now. It's best to be prepared." The man turned to Rose. "I gather you're underage."
Rose nodded. Her birthday was the next day, but the time travel situation made her doubt if the Trace would break for her then.
"My father was considerably more informed about the Trace than I am. There's little I know and can tell you about, but I hope it's helpful," he started. "You see, the Trace is wide-range magic, very powerful. It uses our wands to detect violations. It cannot actually tell who cast a spell, but still identifies every underage wizard that was around when it happened. However, it only sends notice to the Ministry when the detected spell was done without any adult wizard or witch in the vicinity. My father, like any other wandmaker, is required by law to comply with these detection spells."
"Woah, that sounds like hell to maintain," Hugo muttered, getting only a mild scowl from Uncle Bill.
"It is," Mr Ollivander said, amused. "The moment one turns of age, you stop being subject to this notice. Without a joint participation of wandmakers and the Ministry, there's just no way to change the Trace's functioning as it is too complex. So, the spell is still ironclad as of right now."
Rose thought long and hard about it. Due to her academic side being presented with dozens of questions she could ask about the exceptional magic needed to accomplish such a feat, her attention was starting to slip away from the matter at hand. Nevertheless, she had to focus on what was important to her.
"Is there any way of removing it? Before turning seventeen, I mean."
"No. Not that I'm aware of, at any rate."
Rose frowned before a more useful question came to her. "Is it tied to a person's age or date of birth? To determine if someone is of age or not."
The corner of Uncle Bill's mouth turned upward slightly, pleasantly surprised at Rose's subtle way of asking what she needed to know. Mr Ollivander was puzzled by it, as he had no idea why someone would ask such a thing. "Wouldn't that provide the same result?"
"It would, but I was curious as to what choice was taken, or if the spell would have been easier one way or the other?" Rose asked hopefully.
If the spell was tied to her age, the Trace would certainly lift for Rose the following day. However, if it was set on her birth date somehow, she was in serious trouble as it wouldn't lift until 2022.
Mr Ollivander narrowed his eyes. "I'm afraid I don't have the knowledge to answer that question."
Great, now what? Rose thought bitterly, unable to hide her disappointment.
"May I?" the man asked abruptly, gesturing at her wand.
Rose handed him her wand without a thought.
"Hmm," Mr Ollivander said, "applewood? I'm not as gifted as my father at this, so it's an honest question."
Rose nodded with a smile. "Yes, and unicorn hair."
"...10 inches?"
"10 and a half."
"Of course, and flexible too," the man finished with a smile as he handed it back to Rose. "A bolder design compared to my father's usual work, I must say, but his trade is distinguishable nonetheless."
Rose smiled, as her wand was actually the work of the man before her. She still remembered the day she had met him and how he spent a whole morning trying to find the perfect wand for her.
"Take good care of it, it's a good wand," Mr Ollivander said, turning to Uncle Bill. "Look after your father as well."
"My father?" Rose asked at once, feeling her chest tighten all of a sudden. It took her several seconds to realize he was actually talking about Uncle Bill.
"Yes, parents do things we don't find completely reasonable at times, but they do what they think is best for their children. Eventually, one gets to understand that," he said, with a pinch of melancholy staining his tone. "You're lucky to have him with you. Don't take him for granted, now."
At those words, Rose's heart sunk and she looked away guiltily.
Mr Ollivander didn't seem to notice how upset Rose was. "You know, the last time I saw my father was a day like any other— or at least I thought so," he said suddenly. "He had watched over my son for the day, and at some point he decided it would be a good idea to take him to this new shop, Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. It was certainly a chaotic experience."
"We can imagine," Uncle Bill answered, suppressing a smile.
"Anyway, my son returned home with dungbombs and fireworks in his pockets. Long story short, my living room suffered the consequences." The man released an honest laugh, smiling at the memory. "I flooed my father afterwards. I said, 'Thanks for watching him over. Just next time, for Merlin's sake, get him some sweets or fake wands. My house smells like dung now.'"
The twins would be proud, Rose thought fondly.
Hugo started to laugh as well, but stopped as soon as he realized that Mr Ollivander wasn't laughing anymore. "My house smells like dung," the man repeated thoughtfully. "Those were my last words to him."
A heavy knot formed in Rose's throat as the air turned from joyful to sorrowful in a heartbeat.
"You'll say many more words to him, once he returns," Uncle Bill said, trying to cheer him up.
Mr Ollivander stood up. "Yes, you're right," he said, but only half-heartedly.
After that, Uncle Bill thanked him and hurried Rose and Hugo through their goodbyes. They then bolted back to the Burrow where Grandma was surely waiting for them with some stern words for leaving her so worried and without notice.
But as they left the shop, the only thought on Rose's mind was Mr Ollivander's last words to his father. She was unbelievably envious of him. She would have given anything to go back and change her last words to her father to anything else, even if it were a dung joke.
