Thanks for the reviews and follows all! I'm a writing machine on this story. I have chapters written and I'm not sure how long it'll be. My last few fics have been dark and dramatic. I'm aiming for light, happy summer fun for this baby. And sexy. So very sexy. Read and Enjoy!
Chapter 1:
Verbena has simple leaves, the blooms have five petals and come in a variety of colors from purple, to blue, to white, to pink. In summer it blooms a purple white. It usually has a citrus lemony smell.
15 years later…
Rose knew this day would come, had been planning for it the past year even, but still the empty flat that her, her daughter, and her late husband lived in had never looked so sad, never sounded so empty before. Everything was packed up and magically shrunken into her pocket, the floors and walls were clean for the first time since before Penny could hold a crayon or marker straight, and the windows were free from smudgy hands and wet dog nose prints. When Penny started showing signs of magic, Rose would walk into the room to see the paint changed to Penny's favorite color that day. Phil had just laughed. Rose tried not to cry.
She shook herself once and knew the time had come, if she spent another minute reminiscing about her late husband and the life they shared together in Muggle London, she would just cry. A year without Phil had proved Rose had the ability. And she had done enough of that lately.
The last thing she wanted was to return to her roots, to the world of magic, a place full of witches and wizards who might just recognize who she really was. But she had no choice.
Penny would be turning 11 next week, and after the summer would be attending Hogwart's School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, because her Mother, not her Father, was a witch. A witch who had run away years ago.
It had taken a few months, but Rose managed to buy a small shop in Diagon Alley, three blocks up from Gringott's and a short hop and a skip to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
Quaint was the word to describe the building. Tucked haphazardly between a shoe shop and a specialty quill shop, it had wide windows on both sides of the door, and a slanted roof that had a skylight. The layer of grime on the walls and counters left something to be desired, but a few hours with a wand and it was presentable again. Behind the store was a tiny yard she could plant a small garden, and on the other side of that yard was an old storage building.
Her old friend, and fellow witch, Daphne Greengrass had helped get the property in shape, turning the storage building into a place Rose and Penny could live. She helped update the shop after that. Together they painted the outside walls an engaging soft green color that reminded Rose of the mint ice cream she loved so much. The window trims they did in a dark brown to make the green pop. They shined the windows and replaced the heavy wood door for something lighter, something Penny could open easily, and added a small window to it as well. They left the door in the bright white it came in. The inside was easier, they painted everything white to maximize the light and added plenty of space for plants to grow between the shelves which would hold her line of potion product. She put a floor to ceiling mirror behind the register.
The shop felt open and airy after their intense makeover. It felt hopeful. And God knew exactly how much hope Rose was clinging to.
The shop, the house, and Penny's upcoming entry into the magical word, kept her from dwelling too much on the death of her husband, a Muggle man who would have willingly and proudly marched into Diagon Alley with Penny on his shoulders so everyone could see their talented, beautiful daughter.
It was all she could do to keep her mind off Phillip. The child Rose had been, the girl named Pansy Parkinson, would have snorted and gagged dramatically at the idea of falling in love with a Muggle doctor, of getting married to him, of having a child with him. But Rose was no longer that girl anymore.
She left behind Pansy Parkinson, a teenage witch, a few days after Christmas in '98 and emerged into the Muggle world Primrose Parker, an orphaned art student.
Primrose found a cheap flat to rent, went to school, met new friends, and forced herself to learn new joys in life. It had been incredibly hard. And it had been worth every second.
Exactly three hours after graduating, she met Phillip Russo. Fresh out of medical school, he was older than her by a few years, but handsome and sweet and he enjoyed Rose's sense of self-deprecating humor a little too much. A few dates and Rose had known she could've spent the rest of her life with him if he let her. He had felt the same. And for him, he did spend the rest of his life with Rose. Until the car accident.
By then their daughter had outed Rose as a witch, and Phil hadn't minded one bit. Penelope Harper Russo was a genius, creative, book smart, clumsy disaster of a child that couldn't keep still to save her life and had her mother's attitude from day one.
Surprisingly, motherhood had suited Rose a lot more than she ever expected. She had long traded her Pureblood society life for cheap movies and coffee dates with Muggles, left behind her heritage for a Muggle university education, and loved every second of it. Even the difficult parts where she felt horribly misplaced, that had been loads better than the magical world she had left behind. A place where, despite her efforts, simply outcasted her for her role in the war and her family connection to Death Eater's.
To come back …
And without Phil…
With one last look around the empty flat, she closed the door for good on that chapter of her life, already missing the simple and loving years behind her. She was prepared for whatever she would come to face, but she half wished she could hide away with Penny.
But that wouldn't be fair to her magical child. Hogwart's may have been a nightmare for Rose, especially that last year, but she knew from Daphne that the magical world was trending upwards these days. Years had passed since the war, and they were enjoying a peace time. It would be safe to send Penny to the magical school, and her child deserved to go, since it was her birthright as a witch.
That wouldn't stop Rose from doing her best to convince Penny to attend art school afterwards like she had.
Sighing, she made her way through the Leaky and into Diagon Alley, enjoying the Saturday sun on her face and the warm breeze that lifted her dark, messy curls off her shoulders. Her wand was tucked safely into the belt of her jeans, her worn, comfortable boots made click-click-click sounds on the cobblestone as she walked, and with every step she took towards her shop she felt more and more determined to make this work. She had too, for Penny.
As she walked she heard the familiar sounds of the shops opening and readying for the day, excitement growing as the opening date for her shop grew closer and closer.
The time spent living as Muggle had made her wandwork rather rusty, though she figured out quickly it was easy to pick up again. But it had given her time to work on her brewing. Phil had found the idea of her mixing up a potion hysterical, and at times sexy. He enjoyed it a lot more after the first time he had a cold and she made a Pepper-Up potion that instantly cured him of his runny nose. His skepticism had slowly faded over the years, until he was slipping some of his own patients potions when they weren't looking.
Her Potion shop came into view and she took a moment to appreciate all the hard work her and Daphne had put into making it look presentable. A handmade sign on the door informed that the shop would be opening soon and forums were available to begin placing orders if they wanted. The door had a drop box at the bottom and a slot for mail. Both windows had a built-in flower bed freshly soiled, and waiting for flowers to make their home there. Which reminded her she still needed to shop for a few plants to decorate the shop with and remembered she wanted to explore the shop diagonally from hers.
She had seen people coming and going frequently from the plant and herb shop but hadn't been in yet. She hurried across the street, returning the friendly wave of an older witch holding onto a copper cauldron and a bag full of leafy plants. Times certainly had changed since she was a girl living in this world. With a smile, she opened the door and listened as a silver and wooden wind chime burst with sound as she opened the door all the way.
Directly inside the door was a bucket full of tall lemongrass, the fresh citrus scent caught her immediately and she stopped to take a big whiff. The walls were lined with various herbs and garden supplies, the wide floor space allowed room for young trees, bushes, and flowers. Pots and bags of soil lined the wall to her left. Hanging plants hung from the ceiling randomly throughout the shop, leaving plenty of room for the sun to shine through the massive skylight. A shelf housed powdered and dried herbs on one side, and oils on the other. A wide arch stood opposite the front door and led directly outside to a massive garden. With every step she took further into the shop, the smell of damp earth and plants filled her nose.
She was in love.
She walked past a stack of cloth-lined baskets and picked one up, eager to shop. Gardening and brewing went hand in hand, the idea that this wonderful shop was just across the street from her potion shop made her excited.
Several other people were milling around, shopping and browsing, and in the far corner she could see a register and a tall bloke in a dark green apron helping a couple of kids with a Blubbering Birch tree that was several feet tall, and crying chunks of bark all over the counter. She smiled and made her way to the rows of flowers against the window. Several violet pansies winked at her, and she took a moment to be glad for her charmed brown eyes. She could never hope to go unnoticed in her old stomping grounds with her natural bright purple eye color.
Against the flower stand were several buckets full of verbena and creeping ivy, lavender and lovage, basils green and purple, and a dancing sprig of rosemary. She eyed the ivy as it slowly crept over the edge of the flower stand, making its way to cover a row of peeping poppies, and picked it up.
"I don't think you belong here." she told the leafs which immediately treated from her touch. She turned and saw a clever cage with other ivy plants and she placed the small pot just inside.
"There you go." she said happily.
"Thanks for that."
She turned to the speaker with the rough sounding voice, assuming it to be the bloke she eyed at the counter. It wasn't.
"Neville Longbottom?" she gasped, looking up to the tall and rather bulky figure before her. The man barely matched the boy she had known in school, but she saw the hints in his face. Messy brown hair with the same nose and kind blue eyes, not that those eyes had ever been kind when turned in her direction. His jaw was stronger now, and his face leaner and tan. He wore a blue and white stripped button up shirt with the sleeved rolled up over dirty, grass stained jeans and sturdy work boots with dried mud all over them.
"Have we met before?" he asked, crossing his arms as he looked down at her.
Her stomach turned uneasily thinking about the last time they had been face to face. Him, on his knees and in pain, with her pointing her wand at him while Alecto Carrow whispered nasty spells in her ear for her to use on the blood traitor Gryffindor.
For whatever reason, her first response was to put her hand over her nose. She felt the smooth downward curve of the petite nose a plastic surgeon had given her when she had accidentally broken it after tripping over one of Penny's toys and falling down a small flight of stairs.
He wouldn't recognize her without her old nose and unique eye color. And she was no longer Pansy Parkinson, snooty witch, bully, Slytherin, unhappy…
She was Rose Russo, mother, shop owner, artist... She smiled and held her hand out. "Primrose Russo. You can call me Rose. I'm opening the potion shop across the way."
"Ah…" he held onto her hand several seconds longer than necessary before letting it go. "Rose Russo?"
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear so she would have something to do with her hand instead of letting it linger in the air. "Ha I know… Red Rose. Russo is my married name."
"Ah…" he said again, looking a touch disappointed before he continued. "Well if you need any help I'll just be at the front. Let me know if you have any questions."
He walked past her with a nod and she felt the word bubble up before she could stop it. "Widowed!"
"Er - excuse me?" he turned back, his thick eyebrows raised in confusion.
Clearing her throat she tried again. "Sorry, I'm widowed. Russo was my late husband's name."
A soft expression came over his face, one she was all too familiar with. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"Thank you, I just thought you should know my parents didn't give me a fairy tale themed name." she stumbled over her words and felt her cheeks blushing fiercely the longer he looked at her.
Finally his lips quirked up on the edges and he said, "That's always good. Let me know if you need any help. Rose."
He nodded again and left for the front just as she turned away and slapped her hand to her forehead. "I'm so lame."
She found it increasingly difficult to talk to members of the opposite sex the longer she spent without Phil in her life. Especially when they were tall, handsome, and obviously into gardening. Shaking her head, and reminding herself to get her shopping done so she could go unpack before Penny and Daphne got home later that night, she reached down for the bucket of verbena and stuck her nose into the purple blooms.
It was one of her favorite scents. She couldn't resist and grabbed the bucket of lemongrass too.
"Keep your head up Rose Russo." she told herself. "This is only the beginning."