PLEASE READ THIS FIC ON AO3. I'VE STOPPED FORMATTING THIS FIC HERE. PLEASE. PLEASE. THERE ARE ITALICS MISSING, COLORS MISSING, AND MORE. THIS IS AN INFERIOR WAY TO READ THIS FIC. I ONLY UPDATE IT HERE BECAUSE I KNOW SOME PEOPLE DON'T HAVE NOTIFICATIONS FOR AO3.
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Initially, the plan had been to visit Madam Puddifoot's. It was a tea shop in Hogsmeade—very pink, very frilly, very Roxy.
To Rose's eternal relief, Roxy had made the unilateral decision to cancel the reservation. She didn't even ask. It was, Rose reflected, one of the things that made her appreciate this younger iteration of her mother. There was certainly something to the fact that Rose and Roxy were only separated by about five years, rather than the near-two-decades of her first life.
For one thing, Roxy just seemed to understand.
The cancelled brunch had been relocated to be a picnic on the Great Lawn, near where first-year flying lessons took place. Roxy had brought along a bamboo blanket topper, which she placed on the grass, before covering that with the most stereotypical red-and-white picnic blanket Rose could have ever thought of. A woven wooden picnic basket completed the ensemble, and as Roxy unpacked some sandwiches wrapped in paper, Rose just stared.
She didn't know what to say, if she was being honest.
Roxy was wearing her normal tee, which was a relief, even if it was being covered by a longer jacket that reminded Rose of her mother. That jacket wasn't buttoned up. If it had been, Rose...
Rose sat down. No use getting caught up in hypotheticals when she hadn't even eaten a bite.
With a flick of her wand, Rose leviosa'd the remaining food items from within the picnic basket. It was just a bottle of grape juice and some sparkling water, but Roxy still let out a soft oh as she watched Rose's magic gently bring the items to rest on the blanket.
"I'll never get used to that," marveled Roxy.
Rose allowed herself a smile. "It's first grade, Spongebob," she said. "Well, First Year, to be specific. Apparently a limited Mage Hand is ubiquitous enough to teach everyone at age eleven."
"'Prolly helps people's backs," commented Roxy. "If things fall off tables you don't need to pick it up at all. Just hit 'em with a levi-totes-a and you've got it without puttin' strain on yourself."
Rose shrugged. "It's less useful than you'd think, early on. You've got to really focus on pathing each item. And of course, up-down movement is easier than right-left..."
Roxy nodded solemnly. "Like in Mario."
"Sure," said Rose, because she didn't know how to explain to her mother that the NES wasn't really a big hit in Europe like it was in America, and she had played no Marioes in this lifetime.
God forbid Roxy discover Rose was a Sonic fan.
Roxy took it upon herself to unwrap a sandwich. While the reservation had been cancelled, Puddifoot's did offer a complimentary delivery service for an extra fee—some limited teleportation or another was able to fetch the Lalondes' orders in minutes after placing them. Rose had ordered the top item in the "specials" category without paying much attention. She just...
In the light of day, it was becoming clearer to Rose that Roxy wasn't...
...
How to put this. (To the audience of her internal monologue, thought Rose snarkily.) The prior night, Rose had seen... She had seen her mother. No frills, no alternate universes. No do-overs or clones or whatever other horseshit way one could meet a dead parent.
She had seen her mother, and her mother barged in, and made things right, and hugged her. Her mother had told her things were okay, and she cried like she had never cried before.
She supposed that in this life, she hadn't.
But in the light of day, the illusion of "Rose's Mother" faded away. Sure, through time travel, the woman sniffing at an ham-and-magic-cheese-substitute sandwich was literally her mother. In under a year, it's likely Rose's meteor would fall, closing the loop of Rose's entire childhood. This woman was/will be her mother.
And yet, Rose couldn't see her as anything but her friend. Her good friend, mind you. Her friend who had been a constant and reassuring presence for years, from before she'd found out Hogwarts existed. Perhaps Roxy was still due for the same fate that Rose had witnessed, decades from now. Perhaps the loop would be entirely fulfilled, closed without a single detail out of place. Perhaps Hogwarts had good anti-meteor shielding, and the Exiles simply never found the Wizarding World, which operated completely as usual following the apocalypse.
"Rosie, this sandwich fucking sucks. How's yours?"
Or perhaps Rose was getting too caught up in her own mind.
She did that a lot.
"Haven't tried it yet," she said. "Zoned out a bit."
"Happens," said Roxy, with a laugh. "I'mma just swap this out for some jaffa cakes I bought at a Muggle store before comin' over. Want any?"
"Let me try my sandwich, and then I'll let you know."
Rose unwrapped her lunch, and took a bite.
Passable.
"Passable," she said.
Roxy shrugged. "More sweets for me, then."
"I didn't say I didn't want a Jaffa cake, Roxy."
Roxy sighed.
"Can I call it a mom tax?"
"You may not."
"Damn," said Roxy.
A snack-cake, exchanged.
A lunch, eaten.
A silence, observed.
"I feel like we should talk about yesterday," said Rose, before she could think better of it.
"Like, the Wizard Dangerlympics?" said Roxy, mouth filled with chocolate-orange sweets. "'Cause, honey, I'm not gonna let them force you to—"
"Me calling you Mom, I mean," said Rose.
A too-long beat.
"I mean. Yes. The Danger Olympics stuff too. Someone exposing me to harm without my consent is certainly a bad thing, and we will talk about it soon. I just."
Roxy waited for Rose to finish her sentence.
"I."
Rose tried to think of anything else to say.
"I don't know," she said eventually. "I just don't know."
Rose watched as an inscrutiable series of emotions passed over Roxy's face.
"Do you want me to stop calling you my daughter?" said Roxy, slowly.
"No," said Rose. "No, I— I mean, maybe, I just—"
Rose pinched her nose. Then put both hands on her cheeks. Then sighed, then took a deep breath.
"We don't talk about who my mother was to me, very much," said Rose, finally. "She was—will be—you, in one iteration of history. You existed in her past, you're not fundamentally ahistorical to the woman my mother was.
"But she was complicated, for me. And I don't think we've ever talked about that. Directly, I mean."
Roxy was quiet, staring at the ground. Then: "No. But I got a lot of the vibe about her."
"I'm sorry," said Rose.
"Why?"
"I." Rose took a moment to think. "For not telling you?"
"I'm not mad, Rosie," said Roxy. "Why would I ever be mad?"
"Because..." Rose blinked. "I took advantage of you. Yesterday. I called you mom."
Roxy stared.
"That's what you're worried about?!"
Rose flushed. "I mean, no? But sort of, yes. I mean. Roxy, I—"
Rose sighed again. "Roxy, I— Yesterday, when you came in, the one thing I needed was... My mother. I wanted her back.
"Because everything was confusing, and I know, I know, it's stupid, I'm nearly fifteen years old now, in this body.
"I just. I saw you, and I wanted my mom.
"My mom.
"And I saw you less as you, but as her. And I'm worried that that made you feel..."
Roxy interrupted Rose with a laugh.
"That's what you're worried about?!" laughed Roxy. "You didn't— no, Rose, I didn't— you know I called myself your mom, like, four seperate times yesterday. All these big wizardy people, and I just told them straight to their face without any hesitation—we're family."
"Family," repeated Rose. "I..."
"We're family," said Roxy, firmly.
"I know that," said Rose. "I'm just unsure if it is... I don't know if it's even healthy to call you my mother. Freud aside, you're basically my own age."
Roxy frowned again.
Rose continued. "I don't wish to disavow you as a caretaker, at all. That's not my goal. I don't... I would rather keep you around, Roxy."
Roxy gave a half-smile. "I'd want to stick around too," she said.
"But I'm... To put all of my baggage about my own mother onto you, that is..."
Rose took a breath. Roxy watched.
Then: "Roxy, do I tell you about my nightmares?"
"Not really? Shit, was I supposed to ask you about any?"
"No," said Rose. "If I hadn't been telling you about them, then you couldn't have known.
"It is... Most of them revolve around the last day I spent in 2009.
"I am on the Battlefield, vision clouded in rage, and I see a man splattered with blood.
"I am in LOHAC, drenched in sweat, my face turning paler than it already is, as Jade apologizes profusely for informing me of what happened.
"I am on a stone slab in the middle of the Furthest Ring, and I stare my brother down with full certainty that the both of us will die when a timer reaches zero.
"I am wreathed in green light as a high voice cackles with laughter, burdened with the knowledge that my mother is now dead."
Rose stuttered, then took a moment to swallow in a deep breath of air. "That last one is stranger than the others, because I think it blends a few distinct memories together into one, but its message is clear, even if I don't remember you begging for my life from an assailant.
"Still.
"That is an awful lot to place on one nineteen year old girl, wouldn't you think?"
"Holy fuck, Rose," said Roxy, finally. "That's a lot to place on a goddamn fifteen year old, let alone anyone else."
Rose frowned. "I've been having these dreams ever since Sburb, though."
"Proves my goddamn point even more!" exclaimed Roxy. "You're not fuckin' burdening me with your shit, the burden is you not tellin' me anything, and then I get real fuckin' worried about what else worse you're not telling me!"
Involuntarily, Rose curled into herself. "I... thought you had heard about all of these events."
"One thing to hear about 'em clinically, but another to know that shit's haunting your fuckin' nightmares. God, fucking no wonder your sleep schedule's a goddamn mess and a half, you're..."
Rose felt her heart sink.
"Are you mad at me?"
"What?!"
Rose blinked. "For lying by omission, I mean."
"Oh my god, Rose, no, I— Oh my gawd, I am so, so, so fuckin' sorry that I raised my voice just now, I'm not mad, Rosie, I promise I'm not mad— it's just—
"I get so worried, y'know?"
Rose didn't know.
"An' I'm worried about you, not just 'cause you're my daughter in an alt-history or maybe in history-history, or because you're the Girl-Who-Killed-Wizard-Sauron or whatevs, I'm worried that I'm—
"I'm worried I'm a shit mom again, and I haven't even met my baby yet."
Oh my god.
"Oh my god," said Rose, because that was all she could say. There weren't any more sentences being generated. "Oh my god, Roxy, oh my god. Oh my god, no, no, no."
"No," said Roxy. "No, you're— no, Rosie, you don't need to shoulder this goddamn existential— Rose, this is my—
"Fuck," said Roxy. "Fuck, I made it about me."
Rose's brain failed to process the start of a reply.
Roxy said nothing.
Rose opened and closed her mouth.
No sound came out.
Roxy put her ham-and-fake-cheese sandwich onto the picnic blanket, and looked off at the lake.
"I wonder what Joey an' Jude are doin' nowadays," she said. "They're good kids. But I feel like I fucked up with them already, a bit."
"Joey and Jude?"
"Jake's kids," said Roxy, voice too-smooth. "I babysat them up until this year, when Dirk and I pulled out to start prepping for your meteors. You never mentioned 'em to me, so I never mentioned 'em to you."
Rose's eyes widened. John and Jade had half-siblings? And her mother not only knew them, but practically raised them?
Some part of her felt like she should already have known this. (That part of Rose was silently reminding the other part of Rose about Roxy venting about her babysitting charges to old lady Jane, back during Rose's first year.) But she had no idea about the...
"What happened to them?" asked Rose.
"What do you mean?" said Roxy. "They still live in that stupid house on that stupid hill in that stupid town. I'm not their—"
Her voice hitched.
"I'm not their mom. It's Harley's fucking responsibility to get them a guardian."
Rose listened, at rapt attention.
"An' besides, that fucking man doesn't know how to—"
Roxy sniffled. "How to raise a fucking child if it landed on his goddamn boat in the middle of the pacific ocean. He coulda had the best damn baby ever and he'd still fuck it up."
Rose thought of Jade. (Unbidden, she also thought of Jade's pen-pal. The one she wasn't supposed to know about.) Could she call Jade a success story of the Harley child-rearing methodology? Considering that her friend was mostly literally raised by wolves, it was likely not quite the ringing endorsement that old Harley would have liked.
Then she considered the other case study of Jake Harley's parenting methods, who sat in front of her, ham-and-not-cheese sandwich all but forgotten, staring at a lake.
Is that where you learned how to raise me?
As if answering Rose's silent question, Roxy went on.
"Dirk always likes to talk about how he's an orphan. That he never had parents. It's not that we didn't have parents. Everyone does.
"It's that we were failed by ours.
"By Jake."
The breeze tugged at the hem of Rose's robes. She let the cool air pass her face, and listened intently.
"I never had a mom. An' I'm not gonna get all gender essentialist on you, because that's bee ess, but I just...
"I think about having a mom.
"I think about a version of the world where I had a mom. Where I had a woman who raised me in a house, who taught me what she knew, who told me to keep her name.
"And in my dream..." Roxy faltered, for a moment.
"Go on," said Rose. "I'm here.
"I'm listening."
"In my dream," said Roxy. "You're my mom.
"It's you."
...
What?
"And I know how fucking crazy that sounds," said Roxy, attempting a laugh. "But it's just this— this timeline, where everything's flipped. And I know how stupid that is, because your friend Egbert hit the button, and you're my bio-ecto-kid, and it doesn't— you're not—
"It'd be impossible.
"But I just.
"I get fucking visions of it, sometimes. Clear as fucking day. Like I'm a kid again, and I'm talking to old lady Jane, but she's my age, and we're friends. And I'm warning her about the batterwitch who fucked her life over back in this time, and she asks me about my mom, and I tell her,
"I tell her,
"Her name's Rose.
"And she writes books.
"And you might see her on TV, sometimes."
Roxy's voice broke.
"And I want, when I have these visions,
"Nothing more,
"Nothing fucking more,
"Than for her to just,
"Tell me she loved me.
"That it wasn't my fault that I started drinking.
"That I wasn't a failure of a daughter,
"Or a failure of a mom,
"Or doomed in a dying world,
"That I was fucking worth it, for once.
"That she loves me.
"Isn't that fucked, Rose?"
Roxy was crying.
So was Rose.
"Isn't that fucked, that I'm here, and I'm less than a year away from having a baby, and I want you to hold me?
"And tell me things are okay?
"To just—"
Roxy's voice broke.
Rose didn't need to hear anything else.
Not caring if they'd end up in a sprawling heap, she launched herself from her seated position, tacklepouncing her mother into a hug.
They landed barely off the blanket.
Roxy sobbed.
And sobbed.
And sobbed.
And Rose whispered in her ear.
"I love you,"
"I'm here,"
"This is real,"
"I love you, I love you, I love you,"
"I'm here, oh, Roxy, I'm here, I'm here,"
"I— Roxy, I— oh, Roxy,"
And Roxy sobbed,
And Rose's words devolved into babbles,
And it was just the two of them.
Holding each other.
Crying.
Crying, for mothers they never knew.
Crying, for the lost chance to help the girl that they held.
Crying, because they were here, now. Together.
Crying.
And it was like that, until they were both all cried out.
- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]. -
TG: yo
TG: im not one to interrupt a mom x girl reunion special but like
TG: idk if youre aware so im just making you aware
TG: basically
TG: since durmstrang got here late and since were running like seven diff tournies at once theyre doing groupshots and interviews like later today instead of next week or whatever
TT: Ah.
TT: Uh, one second. I'm a little busy.
TG: its cool
TG: dont worry about it
TG: listen im going off on my own arc here im romancing the stone or whatever
TG: the stone equal equal equal a hot french girl
TG: and by romancing i mean
TG: i dunno
TG: were just getting lunch together
TG: shes been playing with the phone i gave her all day
TG: "do you have games on your phone" yeah actually i got fucking chuzzle deluxe a decade and change early
TG: thank you skaiatech
TG: shit what was i talking about
TT: Okay, I'm a little more cleaned up now.
TT: You were talking about the tournament?
TG: oh right
TG: uh
TG: beta kids reunion
TG: in a few hours
TG: and by beta kids i just mean us two and jade and the june girl
TG: and by reunion i mean gruelling yearbook photo session
TG: tracey said press might be there though
TG: so maybe its more like the friends reunion than i thought
TG: one of us will have had to have gotten massive plastic surgery the other a messy and public breakup
TT: Hah.
TT: Do Jade's ears count?
TG: i guess
TG: what were you doing with roxy
TT: To be blunt?
TT: Crying.
TG: wow
TG: woman moment
TT: You don't mean that.
TG: im trans
TG: im allowed to make one ironically misogynistic joke per school year its okay
TG: anyway uh
TG: hope your crying got better
TT: It did.
TT: Roxy and I have decided we're going to start calling each other sisters.
TG: wow
TG: that
TG: okay
TG: lots to process there
TT: Hah. More in the "Scourge Sisters" way than anything.
TG: okay phew
TG: no listen i love roxy too im just not exactly ready to be on the same level playing field as her
TG: more of a weird aunt than a biosis
TG: which
TG: shes not a biosis
TG: or a weird aunt
TG: considering shes my biomom
TG: im going to stop talking now actually
TT: Lol.
TT: A wise choice.
TT: I'm going to take a nap once we're back in the castle.
TT: How long do we have until the photo shoot?
TG: like 2ish hours
TG: 134 minutes
TT: Oh, perfect.
TT: ...You're fucking with me by doing the funny number game joke, aren't you.
TG: idk am i
TG: doesnt matter its an accurate enough timing
TG: go nap
TG: imma shower
TG: strider hair takes a lot to get right
TT: I'll see you soon, then.
TT: And thank you for yesterday.
TT: You know I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire, right?
TG: yes because youre not completely fucking braindead
TG: unlike me who is completely fucking braindead
TG: see you soon
TG: love you
TT: Love you. 3
- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]. -
Notes:
Special thanks to Roxy Lalonde, without whom this would have not been possible.
Thank you to everyone who provided feedback in the drafting process. You have been immeasurably helpful in both motivation and editing.
And finally, thank you to the person who has been rereading ABOR, and leaving a comment below each chapter. Unironically, beating you to posting this was one of the main motivations behind working on this so tirelessly, lol.
Leaving comments helps immensely. This fic is not dead.
P.S.: JK Rowling supports fascists. Don't give her a fucking penny.
ALSO. PLEASE READ THIS FIC ON AO3. I'VE STOPPED FORMATTING THIS FIC HERE. PLEASE. PLEASE.