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. We have spent some time so long away from Hogwarts and people might want me to get there ASAP, but hey, bear with me for one more chap.

4. I have a twitter account that I'm using for updates and thinking on using more actively. Account is TimeTravelFFics

5. Thanks for the reviews so far and enjoy.


The morning dawned crisp but cloudless, and sunnier than Rose could have hoped for. The previous night, she had made the mistake of leaving the curtains open, so the light landed directly onto her face. Not too warm yet, but pesky all the same.

With her eyes still puffy, Rose got out of bed. It had been a rough night, and she couldn't exactly remember at what time she had fallen asleep. Her mind had been caught up with so many thoughts that she had found it impossible to fall asleep quickly. And it was so ruddy annoying, because now she had to face the day completely knackered when she was supposed to feel refreshed.

Rose got dressed slower than usual, huffing whenever she didn't like a certain jumper or couldn't find a matching sock. This day wasn't supposed to be like this, but it was. She had thought the trip to Diagon Alley would be a good thing, maybe even helping her focus on their upcoming trip to Hogwarts. Instead, it had made everything worse.

"Oh, bloody—!" Rose cried when she almost tripped over Hugo's sticky trainers. Her brother had come to show them to her the day before, but he had forgotten to pick them up. Rose frowned and vowed to let him hear a thing or two about leaving those shady things around.

Easy Rose, you know why you're so hung up, she told herself, forcing a slower breathing pace.

Hoping it could quell her anxiety, Rose walked to the window to admire the Burrow's surroundings, only sparing a glance at the picture of her father that Grandma had gotten for her. It took her some time to relax since her feelings were all over the place, but the fresh smell of the countryside certainly helped. The orchard was shining with the light of a new day, as golden as the fields beyond it. Perhaps it was a sign that Rose should stay hopeful for the future and not dwell on the past, but she couldn't help it. She was a bit of a barmy girl.

All of the shopping had been done and, in a couple of days, she would be walking through Hogwarts' grounds again, closer to her father than she had thought possible a mere week ago. However, that didn't take away the void inside of her... Or Mr Ollivander's words, for that matter.

"You're lucky to have your father with you," the man had said. "Don't take him for granted."

If only he knew…

Today was the tenth of October, Rose's birthday. Her seventeenth birthday, at that. She was an adult now. Or as much of an adult as one could be when she was living a year way before the one she had been born in.

Birthdays had always been occasions to look forward to. Rose wasn't one to ask for too many presents, but she got them just the same. If this had been a normal birthday, a book with an engaging plot would be awaiting her by now, and new Quidditch gloves wouldn't be out of the question either. There would be an embarrassing amount of hugs and beaming from her parents for sure. She had grown used to taking those for granted. Today, however, she was having none of that.

Rose wanted to convince herself that it didn't matter, that she was just being too sentimental, that everything would be better once they went to Hogwarts and the bloody war was over. But she couldn't. Not when her previous birthday was so fresh in her memory. Or, the day that changed her life for the worse.

They had been so happy, the four of them. She hadn't realized it as much then as she did now. In the summer, they would have played Quidditch in an empty field until Rose's mother announced from the ground that lunch was ready. Then Mum would put her book away, and they would have a lovely time next to the picnic basket. Dad would tell some story from his time at the joke shop or from their Hogwarts years, some of those real, as Rose liked to believe. He would then tease her about school, or question her about Scorpius, and Rose would pretend to get annoyed at him for being too meddlesome. Hugo would say something stupid that would make her chase after him as their parents stayed on the picnic quilt, bantering or just having an awfully smoochy time. Which, naturally, Rose and Hugo would rather not see. Sometimes, they would all head to the Burrow afterwards; other times, to a nearby muggle town. Mum would always have pistachio ice cream, that was a given. They had had countless days like those. Simple days. Wonderful days. Days she had foolishly thought would never end.

That was, of course, until one of those days wasn't that wonderful.

"What is it?" Rose remembered asking when her father had missed an easy Quaffle throw. Her bushy red hair had been running wild with the wind, even as short as it was.

"Nothing, just— I need some air."

They had flown down to the field with her father clutching his chest, her mother racing to meet them. The next thing she knew, Rose was back at the Burrow with Hugo, both anxiously waiting with their grandmother as she told them that everything would be alright, even when she didn't seem to believe it herself. The healers and their stupid explanations came afterwards. None of it had made sense for Rose back then. How could her father be so sick when he was always so full of life? When he had just been playing Quidditch with them, as if it was any other summer day?

It was rubbish. All of it.

They had spent awful days visiting St Mungo's, but the worrying didn't end once her father was allowed to return home. He was still sick and he rarely left bed. Most days they had tried to go on, keeping an eye on him as they pretended that everything was normal. However, the pressure got the best of her mother at times, and she would loudly scold her father about his carelessness in not visiting a healer when he first felt the minor symptoms. Those fits had never lasted long though, and they always ended in tears.

Rose wasn't stupid, and she had been able to tell how bad things were. So when the day before they left for Hogwarts her father had asked to speak with Hugo and her one at a time, Rose had felt uneasy all of a sudden.

"I don't want to go back. Don't make me. I'll stay with you," she had pleaded, taking the seat in front of his bed.

"Are you mad? You can't miss Hogwarts. You're the brightest witch in your class. I'm counting on you to put our family name up there," he had said with a weak smile, trying to be his usual self, but looking so pale that his freckles stood out more than ever. Laying on a bed like that, it was hard to hide the weakness in him.

Rose rolled her eyes, using the gesture to keep her tears at bay. Yeah sure, she was going to raise their family's name. Tough task when her family was packed with war heroes and her mother had the highest office in the whole of Magical Britain.

Her father had known her too well. He never had a problem with understanding her worries, especially when her self-confidence was faltering. "What? You don't have to be the Minister of Magic to put your name out there — as I know you will. Look at me, or your Uncle George, we run a ruddy joke shop. The damn thing is still getting orders from abroad. A hell of a business."

"Do you really think I can do that? Accomplish something like you or Mum?"

"You'll do better." He had seemed to truly believe it. "No matter what you do, I'll always be proud of you, Rosie."

That had taken Rose by surprise. Her father had always said that her mother was the smartest witch there was, so him thinking that she could do even better was something big. Still, Rose remembered feeling nervous, wondering why in Merlin's beard he was saying that to her then. It sounded as if it was his last chance to say those words.

"I really want to stay, Dad."

"We've already talked about this."

"What if I go and— And something happens?"

"Nothing is happening. I'm stuck in this bloody bed all day. It's dead boring, I'll have you know."

Rose had stared at him intently, taking the time to find a voice that her father couldn't say no to.

"I want to stay."

"No," her father had answered, weakly, but without a hint of doubt in him. "I have a good chance, Rose. The healers have said as much. But it won't be over quick, and you can't miss Hogwarts for this. There's nothing you can do here."

In that vein, Rose had kept arguing, but her father didn't back down. It had been exasperating really. Rose had always been able to convince him of almost anything if she asked long enough, but not with that. No matter how much she had tried.

They had talked about other things as well. Nothing overly important, just silly memories. He kept asking if she remembered this or if she remembered that. They had laughed a bit, but Rose's smile had never quite reached her eyes.

"Can you open that first drawer for me?" Rose's father had asked at some point.

Rose had done so, and she had found his old watch there. She hadn't realized he hadn't been wearing it.

"I had to take it off. Healer studies and such," he had explained as Rose handed him the watch.

The longing her father had shown glancing at his old watch couldn't be hidden. Rose knew he had never been one for serious moments, so that had raised a red flag at once. When, after a heavy sigh, he had taken the watch to put it in her hands, Rose's blue eyes had widened.

"Rosie, your seventeenth birthday is coming. You know it's a tradition that every—"

"No."

"No?" He had been surprised. "I reckon it's an old watch, but isn't that bad, is it? It still works well enough. Witches sometimes get other things, like necklaces and the sort. I'll tell your mother to get one for you, but I wanted you to have this watch as well."

Rose had raised her voice an octave too high. "But this is your watch! Why would you want me to have it?"

"I'll get a new one if— when I beat the crap out of this sickness," he had said, correcting himself. "I wanted to make this old one a family tradition. Passed from father to kid and all that rubbish. If you would have it. I'm sure Hugo won't mind getting a new one when his time comes."

Many emotions had come to Rose then. Disbelief and anger had been the biggest, and they buried the happiness and pride she held deep down. "Then give it to me on my birthday, if it's so bloody important for you! It's not that far away!"

"Rosie—"

"Don't!" she had stopped him, glaring at the old watch as if it was the foulest thing she had ever seen. "You're not planning to be around for my birthday? Is that it? Have you been lying to me?"

"It's not that! I— I only wanted to be sure. Just in case…"

"Just in case what?" Rose threw back with a frown. "Just in case you die?"

Rose had stared at the man in the bed then. Her father would have a funny quip for anything and avoid getting too serious. He could say the most pessimistic of things for sure, but he never meant those. He always took the challenges head-on, not minding about the chances for success. At that moment though, it had felt as if he was giving up, as if he was accepting defeat. And she couldn't have that.

His silence was all Rose had needed. She had stood up with a jolt, feeling as if the very room was running out of air. "I can't believe you!"

"Rosie, please…"

"Don't Rosie me!"

Her father had widened his eyes at that. Rose had looked at him then and felt powerless, useless. She remembered asking herself, why didn't she know more about healing? She had read countless books after all, why had she focused on books for school assignments or muggle fictional tales? Why hadn't she picked one that might've helped her father?

"I hate this! All of it!" she had blurted out. "I hate that you're stuck in that bed and that I can't do anything about it. I hate St Mungo's and the healers too. I hate… I hate that you didn't have the guts to stay with Mum and had to use that blasted deluminator! If you hadn't left then, none of this would've happened!"

Rose had felt disheartened. Everything had come out at once and she hadn't been able to handle it. Her despair had combined with an irrational anger that she hadn't felt capable of controlling. Gaping at her from the bed, her father had never looked paler. There had been a sense of urgency and fear in his face, but the will to fight back hadn't been there.

"Please, Rose. Don't go," he had pleaded.

He had only meant not to leave him alone at that moment, Rose knew. However, she hadn't been able to stop herself from throwing his own words back at him as she made for the door. "I told you I wanted to stay, over and over, and you said no."

Rose had grown aware of her father's watch — which she had still been holding — and, out of nowhere, her rage was directed towards it. As if that little token from her father had been responsible for everything.

"And I don't want your fucking watch!" she had snapped, throwing it back at her father as he stared, dumbfounded. "What I want is for you to not give up! Like you gave up when you left Mum back then! I want you to stop being such a bloody coward!"

Even then, Rose had known she had hurt him, but she didn't have it in herself to care. She had thought that maybe that would bring some sense to him. So, after her outburst, she had walked away from the bed, unable to stare at her father in that condition for a second longer. And of course, she had slammed the door on her way out.

That was the last time Rose saw him.

Her mum didn't know what had happened, but she knew something terrible had been said. She, of course, had tried to make Rose talk to her father again by any means possible, insisting that she would regret leaving things like that. Rose had still been riding hard on her wave of anger and hadn't listened. There had been no point, she had thought. They were leaving for Hogwarts the next day, and her father was surely mad at her. She had hoped that he would find his strength and that everything would be solved by her birthday. A hope that had disappeared late in September.

Tears finally broke through Rose as she stared out of the window. Her wrist felt painfully empty now. It had been guilt, just as much as grief, that had made her grab that Time-Turner and storm into her brother's room with a wild plan. She knew that. It was all her fault.

There would be no cake, hugs from her parents, or even a letter. Because of her own doing, her godparents wouldn't be with her either. Neither would Scorpius, Albus, or the rest of her cousins. She had even refused the most important present. The very thing her father had asked her to keep, and she had dismissed it in a rush of rage.

Brilliant, Rose, just brilliant…

Taking slow breaths, Rose did her best to bury the memory again. She didn't want to look like crap and have Grandma ask her what was wrong. Still, she felt the accusing eyes of her father from the picture on Aunt Ginny's dressing table.

"I didn't mean it," she whispered to the emptiness of the room. But of course, it was too late and her father couldn't hear her now.

Several minutes later, once she had composed herself, Rose walked ruefully downstairs to start the day. Thinking that, in some way, she had made the most terrible of birthdays even worse.

o0o0o

As soon as she entered the kitchen, Rose realized that her birthday might not be the complete cloud of gloominess she had thought it would be.

"Happy birthday, dear," her beaming grandmother said once she laid her eyes on her.

Those simple words had meant the world for Rose, who hadn't been expecting them. "But how—"

"How did I know? Well, your brother might have said something,"

As if on cue, Hugo came into the kitchen then, unconventionally early for his standards. "I just confirmed her suspicions. You did mention your birth date when Professor Dumbledore came by," the boy reminded her. Rose had almost forgotten that. "Happy Birthday, Rose."

When Hugo hugged her, Rose forgot about his stupid trainers laying around the floor. He was all that was left of her small family, and she hadn't lost him yet. Rose's walls almost crumbled down, but she managed to get a hold of herself, letting out just the smallest of sobs.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Positive," Rose said, brushing away the tears as she smiled, "I just wasn't expecting it. That's all."

"You weren't expecting me to remember your birthday? Who do you think I am, the lousiest of brothers?"

"No, not at all. I reckon you're in the top half," Rose said with a grin.

"Oi! Only in the top half?" Adopting an offended tone, Hugo crossed his arms. "You know what? Forget it."

Grandma soon put a generous breakfast on the table. The woman was determined to spoil Rose all the way through, including giving her the first pick on a small variety of chocolate pastries afterwards. It was like having her future grandmother back with her again.

"Bill and the twins know all about it. They'll be here before dinner — which reminds me, you get to pick what we're going to eat. I can cook whatever you feel like, dear."

Rose felt happy. She hadn't expected to have an actual birthday party, but honestly, it couldn't have come at a better time.

"Thank you, Grandma. You're the best," Rose said, hugging her tightly. It wasn't a gloomy hug this time, or one Rose needed for comfort; it was one of honest gratitude and affection. It took her grandmother by surprise, but she returned the gesture at once. "You really didn't need to do all of this."

"Oh, what nonsense. You're my granddaughter, the only one I have at that. We couldn't have let your birthday go as if it was any other day," she said, pulling away from the hug to look at her. The woman brushed Rose's hair away from her face with a tender smile, further reminding Rose of her past memories. "You do look a lot like your mother. She's a wonderful girl, I'll tell you. You'll see... You'll see both of them soon enough. Even if you can't—"

Rose gave her a sad smile.

"Now, listen, Rose, I know you would much rather have your parents here—"

"It's alright, Grandma. I'm glad I get to spend this day with you and the others. It's more than I could have asked for."

The woman smiled warmly at her, and just like that, they were hugging again.

The rest of the day was better than what Rose had imagined. The sad memories from the last time she talked to her father still lingered in the back of her mind, but thankfully Hugo did a brilliant job of distracting her.

"You have a rubbish taste for cakes, you know," he said to her at one point, jabbing a finger in her direction. "Had it been me, I would've asked Grandma for a chocolate one."

"Too bad for you then. You'll get carrot cake, or no cake at all. And call yourself lucky, because usually cake is reserved for those who actually bring presents."

"Who says I don't have one ready?"

"You do? When did you—"

"One has to work with what one has. So, I wondered, what can I get that would cheer my bratty sister up? That's when it came to me. A garden gnome! There are plenty around anyway."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Hilarious."

"Oi! Don't dismiss my effort. I wrapped it myself."

Swiftly, Rose threw a pillow at him, and they laughed at the image of a gnome tied up with a bow. A good honest laugh that Rose had been in dire need of, and the rest of the afternoon was much better because of it. Rose knew that nothing she could do would make the day as good as her previous birthdays, but she might as well try to make the best out of it.

Aunt Fleur was the first to arrive that afternoon, holding a neatly-wrapped box in her hands. She appeared as excited about the party as Rose, and was eager to chat with her. So far, they had talked mostly about trivial things. Aunt Fleur had of course mentioned meeting Uncle Harry at the Triwizard Tournament, and how he had saved her younger sister, but with all that was going on, they hadn't really had the time to connect. Not until then.

Rose enjoyed her aunt's company, talking to her felt like talking to Dom again, and she appreciated how familiar that was. They couldn't discuss anything specific about the future, but Aunt Fleur had plenty of things to tell her about France and Beauxbatons that Rose was very interested in learning about. As it turned out, her aunt had valuable skills regarding glamour spells as well. She gave some advice on keeping their new appearances undiscovered while at Hogwarts, such as what kind of things Rose should avoid if she didn't want her naturally frizzy hair to break through the glamour spell. She also helped Rose practice the spells so she could master them sooner, as Professor McGonagall expected of them.

"Zat's very good! Before you know, you'll 'ave it ready," the woman said, excitedly. At that, Rose thanked her warmly.

It didn't escape Rose that her grandmother followed the whole exchange sceptically. Ever since they arrived, Rose had noticed that Grandma didn't seem quite too fond of Aunt Fleur. It truly beat her, as in the future the two of them were very close. They were always exchanging the newest rumours on the family, or trading cooking recipes. Rose imagined her grandmother wasn't that thrilled at having Uncle Bill married, and wasn't looking forward to getting her first daughter-in-law. However, Grandma had said plenty of times that she was glad Rose's parents got together in the future, so it must be something specific about Aunt Fleur that she didn't quite like.

Whatever the case, Rose knew there was no point in thinking too hard over it. The problem would solve itself eventually, and it didn't appear to be as complicated as the conflict the family had with Uncle Percy.

"Heard there was a party somewhere around here!" one of the twins said as they entered the Burrow in a loud uproar. The presents they were carrying had spinning, multi-colored bows and Rose could have sworn they moved by themselves.

"I don't see any such thing; it's a pretty dull place if you ask me," said the other twin, as Hugo stood up to greet them with a big grin. "Oh wait, I think I know just the thing."

And just like that, one of their uncles pulled something out of his pocket that took Rose by surprise. A golden, prancing rabbit made out of fireworks hopped across the walls, making decorations jump to life, swirling and sparkling. By the time the rabbit was gone, the Burrow looked ten times more like a party than it was before.

"Brilliant!" said Hugo, and even Rose, who was left in awe, couldn't deny them a smile.

By the time Grandpa and Uncle Bill arrived, joy had already spread across the Burrow. Grandma's roast was as splendid as ever, and they all enjoyed it over some of the twins' barmiest stories. Even Uncle Bill was roaring with laughter, appearing to be a completely different man than the one who had so rudely welcomed Rose and Hugo to the past.

Rose wore an old Weasley sweater that was a couple of sizes too large for her, it was marron and had a large 'R' on the front. The poor thing had been neglected in some corner of her father's dresser, but for her it was the best sweater in the world. Wearing it, she felt more hopeful than she had in a while. Maybe things were finally going to be okay. The war might be over before they knew it, and then they would be able to talk freely with their parents. Maybe they could all enjoy a party like this one soon enough. Together.

There was a slight dip in the mood shortly after dinner, when Uncle Percy was mentioned. The family already knew he was going to return thanks to them, but that didn't seem to erase their uneasiness. Rose felt a pang of guilt for not telling them more about the future to defend Uncle Percy. However, the presents soon took everyone's mind away from more troubling matters.

"A scruffy amulet, never would've guessed it," Uncle George said of Uncle Bill's present, which was shaped like an elephant.

Uncle Bill ignored him as he turned to Rose, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. "The pendant is made from ebony, and this detail here is real elephant tusk from a small piece I found embedded in bark," he explained. "I had it for a while and it seemed like the right time to give it away. Some think that elephants bring good luck, and they are strong symbols for family. I reckoned you would like it."

"I love it," Rose said.

"I made the right choice then. By the way, the man who sold me the amulet's string claimed it was made of nundu hair; it's supposed to scare beasts away. It looks like the real thing, but I have my doubts. It was too cheap to be actual nundu hair."

Rose couldn't care less about that part. It was brilliant just the same, and she wasn't about to take a swim with the giant squid to find out if it was real or not.

More presents came after, all of them great. Rose got a small mirror from Aunt Fleur, which could enlarge itself and see through most glamour spells. Uncle George got a small range of WonderWitch products for her, and she ignored the teasing look on his face when she opened it. Uncle Fred gave her a new potion kit box that she could fit the basic one she got at Diagon Alley into. It also had an extension charm that made it practical to carry around.

Then, her grandparents put a small red box in front of her, carefully wrapped.

"You didn't have to. None of you did," Rose said.

"Oh, stop that. We did it gladly," Grandma said, beaming.

Rose gave her a shy smile, pleased by the party, but was already feeling like she was getting too much. The moment she opened the box though, her smile dropped.

It was a watch.

Not noticing her reaction, Rose's grandmother's smile only grew. "We know it's not the best, but we thought you would like it. It was my brother's watch. And, it's your seventeen birthday—" she started, but stopped when she realized Rose was shaking her head, quite troubled. "Is there something wrong, dear?"

Everyone was confused now, looking at Rose with concern. Even a stunned Hugo was looking between the watch and his sister.

"I can't take this," Rose managed, pushing the watch back.

"Why not?"

Why indeed? The watch was more than good enough, and it was a great gesture, but she just couldn't. It was the wrong watch. How could she take it when she had refused the one her father had wanted to give to her?

"It's... Uncle Harry's watch. You give it to him on his birthday, next year," Rose said, not caring about revealing more from the future.

"Oh," her grandmother said, turning at her husband then back at her. "In that case, we'll get a new one for you."

"No, that's not it. I— I don't need a watch. Thank you, but I can't right now. Sorry."

And with that Rose stormed away before her family could see her crying.

o0o0o

The world swayed around her as Rose made her way upstairs, words repeating in her head over and over again. Her words. The ones she had said to her father.

"I don't want your fucking watch!"

Rose wanted to hit herself silly. How had she been able to say those things? Why hadn't she told her father how much she loved him instead? How much he had meant to her?

The door to the old room opened at once, revealing a wild splatter of orange all around. Rose made her way directly to her father's chest of drawers and picked the familiar picture, the one of her parents and Uncle Harry. Staring at it, Rose managed to stop two choked sobs from coming out, but the third finally broke her.

Rose cried, loudly, unable to contain the uneven bumpy sobs that came out of her. Everything was going well now, better than she had expected. But why did it feel so wrong to Rose then? The very party downstairs felt suddenly out of place. As if there was no reason to celebrate. As if she didn't deserve it.

Yes, she was going to see her father at Hogwarts, but that was going to be a completely different version of him. Even if he found out who she really was, how was she going to apologize to him? He wouldn't remember. He wouldn't know the awful things Rose had said to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered at last, passing her hand over the smiling image of her father in the picture.

Rose had meant to encourage him to continue battling his sickness, to be brave as he had been in returning to her mother and Uncle Harry with the deluminator. Instead, it had come out completely wrong, as it always did whenever she tried to put her feelings into words, and she had focused on him leaving in the first place. And she couldn't take her words back now.

Merlin, I called him a coward. He was the bravest man I knew and I called him a coward…

Her cries became steadier, but they didn't seem to show any sign of stopping. She was still crying when someone hesitantly knocked on the still-opened door. Startled, Rose turned, trying to stifle her cries to the best of her ability as she swiped at her face with her sleeve.

It was Grandpa.

"Your grandmother is worried. She wanted to have you at the table for the cake," he started before noticing her face, "but I can tell her you're not feeling well, though."

"No, it's okay. I'll come down in a few minutes; it would be unfair not to. She put so much effort into it."

"You don't have to, if you don't feel like it," he assured her, pausing briefly. "I'm here, if you want to talk about it… Or I can get Molly if—"

"No, please. Stay."

He looked at her attentively, but he didn't say anything for a while, simply waiting for her. At times he looked as if he were trying to understand what was going on, at others simply confused.

Rose wiped her tears with the baggy sleeve of his father's old sweater. "Grandpa, can I ask you something?" she asked once she could trust her voice not to shake.

"Anything you want to."

"Do you think it will be hard for you to forgive Uncle Percy?" she asked, but then noticed his reaction and winced. "Sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"No, it's alright. It just... caught me off guard, that's all."

"I know you've forgiven Uncle Percy in the future. I just wondered how difficult it would be if he... I mean, when it happens, would you … You know what? Nevermind."

Her grandfather sighed and walked to the bed, then he sat down, putting his hands heavily on his knees. "Percy said hurtful things, Rose. To me and Molly. I would be lying if I said that the situation didn't bring pain to this family. Disappointment..." he said, carefully. "Even so, if he wanted to, he could be sitting downstairs with us at this very moment. He is my son, and I love him. I always will. If he truly wants my forgiveness, all he has to do is ask."

At that, Rose whimpered. She was such a wreck at that moment that anything could put her on the edge.

"Rose? What's really going on?"

She pressed her lips together, not trusting her voice to not shake. Then, her sobs came back in full force, fighting their way through the knot in her throat, "Oh, Grandpa, I'm so sorry! I messed everything up!"

Before she knew it, Rose was sitting on the bed, clinging to her Grandpa as if he was the only steady thing in that bloody room. Once more, she expressed how sorry she was about taking the Time-Turner and, before she knew it, she ended up blurting out between sobs all about her last conversation with her father. Rose never thought she would confess to that, but she just felt so raw and tired, and her chest couldn't hold it any longer. She wept herself dry.

When she was finally done, she rested her head against her grandfather's chest, just forcing deep shaky breaths out of herself. He rubbed her back, in comfort. She did feel better after sharing that part, somehow.

"I should have taken that stupid watch," she admitted, in a weak voice. "It would have been so easy, and would have— He would have felt better. Instead, I made it all worse. He's gone, and I didn't have a chance to tell him that I didn't mean it."

"Don't worry about that," Grandpa said reassuringly. "He knew."

"How can you tell?"

"Because I am a father, and because I know Ron. I have seen him and his brothers grow and mature. They might say hurtful things to each other from time to time, but they know what they really mean to each other. Words come and go, Rose, but family always prevails."

She nodded, taking her time to process his words. She needed to believe them, more than anything.

Family prevails, she thought, unconsciously holding the amulet Uncle Bill had given her.

"You know, Ron might not be the best with words himself— at least not now— but he knows we're always there for him. As I'm certain he was there for you, in your time."

A weak smile came to Rose. He had truly been there for her. Picking her up when she first fell from her broom, and relentlessly cheering her on during the bad days. Whenever something went wrong for her, he was the first to push her to try again. Even behind his teasing, Rose knew he had always done his best to make her feel better, to see her happy.

"He wasn't the best with words in my time either," she said, managing a smile. She remembered all the times Mum had complained about him not thinking things through before he opened his mouth.

Grandpa smiled back. "I imagined as much."

Rose brushed away the last remnants of her tears and took a deep breath, and then stood up and said, "Grandpa, I think I could eat some cake now."

"Oh, thank Merlin! I thought I was going to miss it," her father answered with a smile, and then guided her back downstairs.

o0o0o

Everyone was glad to see Rose return. They gave her odd looks, but everyone just went on having a great time — not even mentioning her puffy eyes. Grandma, who had already put the cake on the table, beamed at her and welcomed her with a hug. She insisted that Rose shouldn't worry about the watch, and that they would get her something else. Rose's half-hearted pleas that it wasn't necessary didn't discourage her at all.

By the time the cake was finished, Rose was in a much better mood. The cake was that delicious.

"Hey, if you're still up for more presents, I didn't get a chance to give you mine," Hugo said.

Rose turned to him, lifting an eyebrow. "That box is too small for a garden gnome."

"A garden gnome?" Aunt Fleur asked, perplexed.

"Probably some joke," Uncle Bill told her.

Uncle Fred scratched his chin. "Still, I wager a gnome could fit in there."

"I'll take that bet," Uncle George chipped in.

As her uncles went on about the ways to properly bend a garden gnome, Rose opened Hugo's present, which turned out to be an assortment of all her favourite sweets that the twins helped him get. There was a self-writing quill in there as well, which — the twins assured her — was the finest writing object there was.

"I thought about something more Quidditch-ish, but I didn't think you would be playing much this year," Hugo said.

He was right, Rose Wallace needed to stay as far away from the spotlight as possible. "These are great either way. Thank you."

Rose was just putting the wrapping away when Hugo pushed another box to her, a smaller one this time. She looked at him, bemused.

"Another one," he said with a fearful smile.

"Oh, the plot thickens; I don't remember this one," said one of the twins.

"I brought this one from our time," Hugo said. Then, after noticing his sister's puzzled look, he added, "It's the thing I took from my drawer when you told me about the Time-Turner."

"Thought those were just clean pants," Rose muttered.

"I wished that had been the case."

Uncle Bill faked a disgusted expression. "I wouldn't fancy having to wear Ron's old pants myself."

At the twins' laugh, Grandma reprimanded all of them with a warning shake of her head. "Knock it off you lot, I got new underwear for both of them."

Smiling at the exchange, Rose's attention returned to the little box. She opened it carefully, but never expected what she found there.

How could it be?

Her heart almost stopped and she turned questioningly at her brother at once, because the thing inside the box was her father's old watch.

"How did you—"

"It's not from me. Someone asked me to hand it over to you on your birthday, and I couldn't just forget it back at home," Hugo said, his smile growing wider at her reaction.

It was then that Rose noticed the little note by the side of it, which she unfolded with trembling fingers. It was written in her father's scrappy letters. Rose let out a shaky gasp, then hurried to read it.

~o~

Regrets are the bloody worst, aren't they? Trust me, I learned that when I was your age. I asked Hugo to give you this old trinket that you left behind, since I reckon you'll want it. If you get this note though, that'll mean I've failed you, and for that, I'm sorry. I tried, so bloody hard. For you, for Hugo, for your mother. But some things are just not meant to be. You'll take care of them for me, won't you? I know I can trust you with this.

All of this is rubbish, I know. I've been there. Still, I need you to push through. Please, don't forget to be happy. Smile. Remember the past, but don't let it bugger your life. Save your energy for the things you can still change. And, most of all, don't forget I've loved you since the moment I set my eyes on your rosy cheeks, and will do till my last breath.

Happy Birthday, Rosie.

~o~

And just like that, Rose moved her hand to her mouth and started crying all over again, alternating between daft smiles and hiccupy sobs. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. She was certainly dreaming. Or maybe, she had finally gone mad.

"What is it, dear?" asked Grandma.

"It's… a watch. My father's watch!" Rose said, and then she hastily pulled it out of the box. She couldn't put it on fast enough. Once it was finally secured to her wrist though, Rose let out a sigh and felt more relieved than ever. As if everything had just fit into place because she had that watch now.

He knew...

Considering what had happened earlier, the Weasleys at the table looked properly baffled at her eagerness to put the watch on. Grandma turned questioningly at Grandpa, who just smiled warmly at Rose, a warm glint in his eye. "It looks good in you, Rose," he said, knowingly.

Rose hurried to hug Hugo and thank everyone in a much better mood than she could have hoped for moments earlier. She told them the watch was a present from her father, though she kept the note to herself, not wanting to explain anything about her regrets. That would be a secret she would only share with Grandpa for now.

By the time all was said and done, Rose went upstairs in need of some serious rest. There was a moment where she felt guilty about her mother, since her father had asked her to take care of her. But she wouldn't dwell on that. Not now. Not today.

Save your energy for the things you can still change.

Rose found Aunt Ginny's bed especially soothing that night. The day had been a roller coaster, and probably one of the most emotionally taxing ones she had ever had. Still, Rose couldn't care less, because at that moment — with her father's watch firmly on her wrist and every stroke of his handwriting ingrained in her mind — she knew she had all the strength she needed to face Hogwarts.