Chapter 5. Rose Weasley.
Chapter 5. Rose Weasley.You'd think there was no cause for concern whatsoever, yet Malfoy managed to find one!
Rose waived her wand, as she carried the cup to the sink. She could feel Theo's probing gaze on her, but did not turn around. Would he hold it in, or would he ask? He would not try to pull the answer out of her head, of that she was certain.
The cup slipped from her fingers onto the floor and broke; Rose automatically crouched down to pick up the pieces.
"Your wand," Theo said softly into her ear, leaning over her.
She smiled at him, a little bemused.
"Your palm," he took her hand, and only then Rose realized that she had managed to cut herself. And all that because of Malfoy and his newspaper!
Theo was already closing the wound, and she still stared at the drop of blood on her cuff.
"Will you tell me?"
Rose nodded, as she removed blood and shards from the floor.
"Did you read the paper?" she followed Theo to his study, where a potion was brewing. The room was filled with strange aromas, but Rose had long been used to it, and often even enjoyed being here and watching him work.
"Yes," Theo glanced at her and Rose knew at once that he got her meaning.
"Do you think there is a reason to worry?" she looked into the cauldron next to Theo. The simmering liquid in it was greenish in colour. "What is this?"
"A salve," Theo replied curtly, still looking at her. "You are worrying already."
"You have discovered your inner Healer of Souls?" Rose joked, leaning over to kiss his slightly prickly chin. He did not show any outward reaction to her words. "All right, it is not really me, but Malfoy, the master alarmist."
"Are we talking about the same Malfoy here?" Theo asked a tad skeptically, as he put his arms around her, but Rose sensed his irony.
"Fine, maybe not a alarmist, but his suspiciousness makes him look for danger everywhere. And now…"
"He actually has valid reasons for that," Theo released one arm from around Rose to stir the potion.
"You think that they are fools enough to do something right away?" Rose tugged him toward the chairs. "Should Malfoy get as much as sniffles, everyone will blame it on the Zabinis; people still remember Fritz ranting at Jim's graduation, blaming Malfoy for all his family's misfortunes…"
"Rose," Theo lightly pressed her hand.
"What?" she smiled and leaned into him for a kiss. One corner of his lips curled up in a smirk. "All right, I am no longer worried."
"I did my best," a slight smile ghosted across his lips.
"You did you best?" the girl exclaimed in mock indignation. "You barely said two words!"
"Ones needed the most," he remarked, getting up and heading for the cauldron. She smiled, looking at his straight back: he could calm her without any words at all. Or put her thoughts in the right direction.
No reasons to worry, she had just proven it herself. And no need to succumb to Malfoy's overblown paranoia; he had James for that.
"Do you think Priscilla Zabini is truly out of her mind?" Rose watched Theo take the heavy cauldron off the fire and pour the potion out into a retort. "Well, I know that you did not examine her yourself, but it is possible, isn't it..?"
"Rose."
She smiled again.
"Yes, I am talking to myself today."
"Talk to me," he asked, sitting down next to her. "You are tired."
She nodded and began telling him about her day at the Institute for Advanced Magic, where she was the assistant to the professor who taught Advanced Tranfiguration. Her job also allowed her to learn a lot.
"And this really ancient man stopped by, also a professor. He said that he remembered Mum and even tested her in NEWTs… Theo, are you listening?"
He nodded, with his eyes closed.
"What are you thinking about?" She looked into his face; he seemed lost in thought.
"My father," he replied finally. Rose immediately traced his train of thought: Hogwarts, exams, Severus Snape, his enemies… Everything that Theo knew or wished he did.
"Al said that he wants to write a book," Rose traced the veins on his burn-spotted wrist. "The book about "Uncle Severus"."
"Al can," Theo nodded, and Rose knew that he was fighting back a smile, remembering her cousin's visits. Al spent a lot of time in Theo's study, sitting for hours on the edge of his desk and chatting away about Severus Snape, as he had come to know him in his wondrous dreams. And Rose was sure that Theo was already missing these chats and Albus, who was interested in potion making, and often caused minor fires, trying to help.
They were silent for a time, their eyes on the candle, slowly burning out on the desk.
"Let's go?" Theo stood up, pulling her with him. The flame faltered and almost went out, and at the same moment came a knock on the window.
"An owl?" Rose pushed back the drapes and looked at the bird with renewed uneasiness. This was not an owl of one of Theo's patients, and it was not James' or Lily's owl, from whom, she suddenly realized, she'd been expecting to hear all along. Yet, she recognized the bird, although she had only seen it all of three times in her life.
"Theo, a candle," Rose said anxiously, throwing open the window and taking the letter from the owl.
As before, the scroll looked hastily and carelessly sealed.
"This is from Dad," the girl felt her heart beat with a mix of worry and joy in her chest. The rare tidings from her father, his letters were among her most preciously kept things – they gave her hope that he was alive and well, that, despite everything that had happened, he remembered them. Even a couple of scribbled lines brought her joy. Each of the those lines she knew by heart, from frequent re-readings. They made her feel closer to her father, gone, it seemed, so long ago, yet still present in the hearts of Rose's loved ones.
She told no one about the letters, save Theo and Hugo. She took great care in keeping them a secret from her mother, for fear of causing her new pain. Because Mum tried to write to him, Rose was certain of that. And she was just as certain that he never responded. And the fact that he did write to her, Rose, was her thoroughly protected secret.
Anyway, secrets were not something new to her family. Uncle Harry had a secret of his own: sometimes he, unbeknownst to anyone, would visit Aunt Ginny's grave and stay there for hours. Of course, this was something that Albus divulged during one of his visits. Theo never broke the mental link with which he connected Al and Uncle Harry on the night when Xenia save the Light. Rose learned that from Theo. And she was also sure that it was Albus who talked Theodic into maintaining his link with Uncle Harry. Albus was good at talking people into things. And his ability to know things about his father was something that Al took great care to keep to himself. And so it was that everyone in their family had their own little secret…
Rose broke the seal on the scroll with shaking hands, recalling everything her father had written her so far, unsure of what she was about to read now. She had long ceased to expect the words that would fulfill her heart's desire: that he was coming back, that he wanted to see her – because she understood her father, who believed that he had burned all his bridges (and deep down , Rose agreed with him, especially when she saw her mother and Uncle Harry together), and he did not want to cause any unnecessary pain – neither to her nor to himself…
"Rosie, it is better if do not write to me; you are just torturing yourself. I shall be all right. Take care of your mother and be happy. Love, Dad." That was the answer to the first dozen letters she wrote, where she detailed everything that was going on with them, how they rebuilt their lives, how Lily was making piece with everything, how Uncle Harry was coming back to life – of all the little things that she wanted to share with him, as if to let him participate in their lives, if only through her letters. She wrote letter after letter, even though she was not sure that the owls were able to find him. Yet, she kept writing. And when she received his brief reply, she was madly happy – because it gave her hope.
"I am glad that you found your happiness. I am well, do not worry. Love, Dad." These lines reached her a year and a half after his first letter, as a response to her news of her and Theo living together, of Theo opening his own clinic after leaving Hogwarts, while she was finishing her studies and helping out at the Institute, of their plans to go back to Hogwarts to teach one day. She shared her life with him, and he responded.
Then – almost two years of silence, before one day the owl that took yet another letter to her father returned with a braided multi-coloured bracelet, which Rose has worn on her hand ever since. After all, she received her father's gift on her birthday.
Theo lit two candles and stood stock still next to her, letting Rose to be the first to scan the long-awaited lines. She looked at him in confusion, handing him the letter. She felt as though a string was pulled tight inside of her.
"Rose, I need a healer as soon as possible, one who would not mind treating a werewolf…" What followed in surprisingly neat handwriting, quite unlike her father, was the address – a small town somewhere in Bulgaria, an inn, where, according to her father, the fireplace was not linked to the Floo network.
"We'll Apparate," Theo was already walking to his desk. Rose nodded, watching him gather his small valise with potions and arcani. "First to Dublin, then to Paris, and then through the fireplace to the nearest town… Rose."
She ran into his arms, bursting into tears: either for gratitude that he was ready to go on a moment's notice who knows where to help her father, or for fear that something had happened to him, and they would be too late.
"He is able to write," Theo said reasonably, wiping tears from her cheeks. "Get your cloak."
She nodded, catching his confidence, and dashed into the foyer, berating herself for weakness.
Everything will be fine. They'll get there in time. And she will finally see her father.
She grew calmer as she fastened her cloak, threw on the hood, and went to join Theo. She was about to open the door, when a thought struck her:
"We have to tell Mum! And Hugo!"
"No," Theo firmly gripped her shoulders.
"But what if Dad…!"
"Rose, is paranoia contagious?" the young man nudged her toward the door, and they stepped out into the chilly gloom.
"Yes," she agreed reluctantly – not with his suggestion, but with his opposition to worrying her family. He was right: there was no need to trouble her mother and brother. First they needed to help her father.
"Your hand," Theo squeezed her cold fingers and began spinning in place, bringing Rose along.
Rose followed after Theo and in a couple of seconds they stood next to a hotel in Dublin, in a quiet and dark spot, barely lit by a dim street light. Salty, piercing wind flew from the Channel.
Rose knew this place: she and Theo stayed here once when he visited a patient of his from Dublin, who could not travel to see him. Yet, now she was not interested in her surroundings: they were in a hurry. Theo looked at her, as though checking whether she was ready for the new round of Apparating, and then glanced between the buildings at the Channel, beyond which lay the evening Europe.
Rose gave him her best cheerful smile: Apparating over large distances several times in a row was complicated. One ran the risk of Splinching or missing one's destination. And she really did not want to find herself in the middle of the English Channel – if only because she couldn't swim very well.
Theo squeezed her hand, and she no longer thought about the consequences of unsuccessful Apparition: even when Theo was in a hurry, he did not make mistakes. Rose was always sure of him. Because he was her Theo…
A couple of moments of darkness – and they stood in the middle of the broad Avenue de Paris, known only to wizards. To the right of them she saw the glowing sign: "European Continental Floo Network. Welcome!", with language of the message changing every ten seconds.
Rose and Theo hurried toward the big white edifice, maneuvering between wizards of all nationalities to be found in Europe and beyond.
Rose has never been to the Continental Center, although she read loads about it. She thought that it had been a splendid idea to connect all fireplaces of Europe into a single network – the trips were now simpler, especially if one was none too certain of one's destination.
At another time, she would have been fascinated by the huge hall with five levels of fireplaces, with witches and wizards constantly coming out of them or coming in, only to vanish amidst green flames. Yet, now she only cared about one thing – time. Theo must have thought likewise, because he almost immediately found an available clerk clad in green, who gave them a well-rehearsed smile:
"The Devereaux's "European Continental Floo Network" welcomes you," the representative said dutifully. "Which country..?"
"Bulgaria," Theo named the city, and the clerk began flipping through the directory that hung in the air at his shoulder. "The nearest fireplace is three hundred…"
"No problem," Theo handed the rep several galleons, and they were promptly led to the fireplaces on the first level and handed boxes of Floo powder. "Bon voyage!"
They departed simultaneously, and Rose sometimes caught glimpses of Theo as they flew through fireplaces.
They came out of the fireplace in the small room of a dark and dirty-looking pub, with only a few patrons who stared in amazement at the rare guests.
"Let's go," Theo quickly crossed the room, and they found themselves in a crowded, warm street that seemed squeezed by the houses on either side. Rose felt tired, but she only had one more leg of the journey to make to see her father.
Theo smiled faintly – his lips barely twitched – and drew Rose with him into the twilight of Apparition.