What if we knew what tomorrow could bring? Would we fix it? Could we? - Cecilia Ahern.

20th April 1998

Shell Cottage

Each memory vial held a piece of their puzzle, each one would be one step closer to destroying He Who Must Not Be Named and storing the answers she had been craving for the last year.

Hermione inspected the cabinet, a small handwritten chart was fixed inside the door and small circles with all colours of the rainbow expressed a lifetime of emotions. She found a tiny book on the inside of the door with page after page of notes with numbers that corresponded with different vials. Years of love and effort had been poured into fully understanding each moment, the understanding of each person who held onto those memories, their motives, their feelings at that moment and each moment that passed, the notes flowed fluidly, connected by numbers colours and small dots. Hermione was in complete awe, not only of the work but the person who had done the work, it wasn't dumbledores elaborate scrawl that had done this but the swirling grown version of the girl who rested in the crib metres from her.

"Think we should get the sword and get rid of this thing." Harry broke the long lingering silence that had fallen over the trio.

"I'll come with you," Ron stood bringing out his wand. His hand reached out to Hermione's head, stroking her hair affectionately in a way he had never done before, he avoided looking at her keeping his gaze fixed on the door.

"I'll stay with Rose," she whispered, before gently levitating the crib to her so Rose could be within reach.

As the tent flap closed she looked over the pile of books in front of her.

The first one, the tiny leather-bound book had gold writing on the front of it,

Hermione picked it up carefully. Upon touching it, it expanded from the size of a small notebook to the size of one of her treasured study book tombs, taking up a large portion of the table.

Her fingers ran over the embossing on the cover, "Ad Canticum Rosae Et Virtutis" She whispered the title, wondering what it could mean.

Opening the cover, Hermione carefully expected something to fall from it as the time turner had done a short while ago, however, nothing came. Gently flicking through the pages she found hundreds of pages of handwritten notes. The margins were filled to bursting with Rose's notes however the main writing unlike Rose's beautiful penmanship was extremely hard to read but she recognised it as the elaborate scrawl of Albus Dumbledore.

After trying to read the scrawling writing, she recognised the language Professor Dumbledore had written in was Latin and while she had learned a fair amount of Latin while at Hogwarts it became apparent that she would need to spend time translating the passages.

Moving diagrams that made no sense scattered the pages as she moved through the book looking for anything that caught her eye, a series of family trees did just that.

"Figulus, Granerarius… Wait … Weasley…."

She ran her fingers down the Weasley family tree, and pictures of each family member going back 12 generations smiled up at her. Her fingers traced the tree, following the golden strings that connected them, she squinted desperately trying to see pictures of each of them, to know more about those she had heard stories of until she landed on Ron.

Doing a double take, Hermione realised the person before her was not her Ron, he was at least 15 years older, his soft skin and happy smile had been replaced with a rugged and life-beaten longing and a sculpted beard. He looked good. Before her eyes he morphed into her own Ron, whose happiness and lust for life bled through the pages.

A platinum connection linked Ron to a smaller photo of herself and produced "Rose Weasley- 01/03/1998"

Rose's picture suddenly sprang to life, surveying her environment before staring up at Hermione and waving shyly, when Hermione waved back she pointed to the side of her. The line joining her and Ron flashed on the page before fracturing into a second. This line connected the baby Rose's sleeping picture that appeared next to it, with the name "Rose Granger-Weasley - 01/03/1998".

As she touched older Rose's name another level of the tree appeared. Brown ink wrote, "Draco Malfoy" applying a small picture of him before silver ink connected them. "Romi Weasley-Malfoy 31st July 1998"

"Weasley-Malfoy…"

As she processed the implications of the text, she watched as the name of each older generation of Ron's family turned red. Their death dates were written beside their dates of birth.

Turning her attention to the other two family trees she saw Harry's face smiling up at her. The page was titled Figulus. Next to Harry, a smaller photograph of Ginny appeared, and with her the photographs of three children.

"James Sirius, Albus Remus and Lily Luna Potter."

All three children had the indentations of dates of birth below them but each one was blurred.

"Figulus… that must be Latin for Potter"

The final family tree was her own, she gasped as 12 generations of moving photos of her muggle family smiled up at her. Her mother and father smiled and waved enthusiastically, but as she touched the page as she had done the previous pages, the dead turned red and the platinum links linked her and Ron before adding both versions of their daughters

She continued to flick through the book until she came to a page entitled - Contrinum Anima

Seven pictures adorned the page each surrounded by notes.

A ring, - coloured red.

A diary - coloured red.

A locket - coloured red.

A tiara

A snake

A cup

A man.

A loud scream from outside the tent signified the end of the Hufflepuff cup, Baby Rose woke with a start, her eyes seeking safety before meeting Hermione's and bursting into a little cry.

The cup on the page turned red as she comforted her "Oh baby it's ok, that's a good noise" she picked up the little girl, "it means we are one step closer to getting rid of the mean bad man."

"Mean bad man is one way to describe "He Who Must Not Be Named" Harry laughed as he entered the tent again.

"I didn't think wandering racist psychopath was appropriate for her first memory…"

Harry chuckled again before joining her at the table, "Ron went for a walk, he … isn't in a great way."

Hermione felt uneasy at the thought, he hadn't left her side since he returned especially since Rose had been born. Part of her worried that it would be too much and that he would leave again

Harry put his hand on hers, "He's only gone for a walk, he's pretty cut up about what he saw but he will be ok." He didn't look entirely convinced by the statement and quickly changed the subject. He touched the cover of the book, "Anything interesting in there?"

"Well, it's in Latin so I'm not sure yet but I've found our family trees, yours, mine and Ron's which is very odd…"

"Really?"

Hermione turned the book to show him the pages, and he stared as he watched members of a family he could only have dreamed of having, waving back at him

"There are also details of the Horcruxes. Looks like Dumbledore's handwriting… again it's in Latin so I have no idea what it says"

Harry looked hurt by the implication. "Maybe you and Ron were right, maybe we didn't know him as well as we thought we did. Can I hold her?"

Hermione handed Rose over to him and watched as he relaxed instantly, his face lighting up and a smile illuminating his green eyes. Hermione loved the little bond Harry had developed with Rose, Harry had never been particularly affectionate and always appeared uncomfortable with physical contact. She had always assumed it was his treatment at the Dursley's, from his stories he was a touch-starved child and this had affected him even to this day, he was awkward to hug and tensed up when she attempted friendly or empathetic contact. But when it came to Rose he seemed to relax his entire demeanour when holding her and she seemed to revel in the contact she got from him. Her little girl was healing their hearts in more ways than she could ever understand.

"She's great when you are feeling a bit sad isn't she?"

He laughed as he cuddled her tightly to him, her hands went instinctively for his glasses and he pulled away.

"She has magic powers, don't you baby girl? You will be grabbing those in no time cheeky monkey…"

Closing the large tome, knowing it would need more study than she could give it at that moment, Hermione rubbed her forehead and moved on to the next book.

Opening the cover she gasped, "Harry it's your parents,"

She jumped up and ran round the table to show him, Harry's parents danced in front of them smiling widely.

Harry took the edge of the book in his free hand.

"That's the book Hagrid made for me at the end of first year, I thought you had it in your bag?"

"I do…" She doubted herself for a moment summoning her bag, and pulling out a much thinner copy of the book before her, "yeah I do, it was in with all your things…" Opening the cover the same pictures covered the first three pages. "This one looks older and more faded … maybe it's something Rose brought back from her timeline?"

Harry arched his eyebrows, "It looks pretty full now though."

"There are three of them…" Hermione continued absent-mindedly turning the page. A photo of their trio in their first year at Hogwarts smiled up at them. "… we look so young"

"Hard to believe that was after we had just stopped Quirell…"

It was like a trip down memory lane they watched as each page held pictures that showed their trio ageing, through various activities at Hogwarts, Ron and Harry when they won the house cup, various Christmases at the burrow and one at Grimmauld Place.

A loose photograph fell out. Hermione caught it but was too busy looking at a picture of the trio taken at Bill and Fleur's wedding. She Harry and Ron stood with drinks in hand. Ron watched her in complete admiration and she looked very distracted.

"Bill and Fleur's wedding. 1st August 1997. Oh Merlin, I was pregnant in this picture."

She didnt remember the photo being taken and then a thought struck her, Harry had been disguised as Barny at the wedding, he had never been Harry.

Another much newer-looking photograph was tucked into the side this one she did remember. She and Ron were dancing, his hand touched her hip and stroked her stomach with his thumb, and they talked in whispered hushed tones, he couldn't stop smiling while she looked terrified. She still remembered the sound of his voice as he whispered, it will be ok and kissed her as the music ended. In the background they were being watched by a small crowd of people, Bill and Fleur's friends from the bank, and another person, a girl with wild red hair and a small smile. She watched them momentarily and muttered something before giving a small twist of her wand and disappearing into the crowd.

She turned her attention to the loose photograph that had fallen into her hand

"Oh look, Harry, this must be you. How cute."

"Yeah, it is, back in Grimmauld Place I found a letter my mum wrote to Sirius and she mentioned me chasing her cat."

On the reverse of the photograph scrawled in Rose's handwriting the words Harry and Piggy (mum called him Crookshanks). Est January 1981.

"Well, she's got that wrong." Scoffed Harry rolling his eyes.

Looking at the picture it was easy to confuse the cat in the picture and her Crookshanks, they were identical, though her Crookshanks was slightly shabbier, given his disdain for his brush, there was no way it was possible that the two were the same. Hermione made no comment, Harry's hatred for Rose was so blatant it made her uncomfortable. If Rose was right about who she was the hatred he felt was being indirectly directed at the child he clung to so desperately for comfort at this exact moment.

Hermione opened the second book, smiling up at her very happy-looking Ginny and Harry. Ginny wore a long white dress with a small veil and was sporting a large protruding stomach.

She dared a glance at Harry who had lost all colour in his face. He reached out and touched the picture in a daze. "That's me and Ginny…"

Hermione flipped through the following few pages, she was able to establish that the ceremony took place in the gardens of the Burrow, a tiny affair with only 12 guests that Hermione could see from the pictures. She saw Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Remus a little boy with bright pink hair who must be Teddy, Kingsley, Bill and Fleur a small blonde-haired girl who was no older than 3 and clung to them desperately, Fred and George, Charlie and finally Ron.

The photographs looped as all the others did but something about the ones containing Ron spoke a thousand words. In each one Ron distanced himself from everyone, he had a full beard that while well kept made him look 30 years older than he was. His face was painted with a permanent sadness, he looked lost and angry, even when he was forced to smile, he was longing for something… she quickly knew that the thing wasn't a thing at all… it was someone and she wasn't in any of the pictures.

In the last 6 almost 7 years, they were never without each other. He looked the way she had felt the long winter months after he had left. During that time she had always hoped and prayed there would be a day she would see him again. What if he had still clung to the hope she would come back in all the years he had spent without her before Rose had been returned to him?

What if in all those years, he like her had clung to the few nights they had to lay in each other's arms, to the feeling of his lips on hers, to the taste of saliva, the feel of skin on skin? What if he had relived their first time as she had over and over until tears tainted every moment, what if he had wished and prayed, begged and bargained with any deity who would listen for even one more minute as she had?

2 months without him was hell for her, she couldn't bare to think what 8 years would have done.

Her fingers traced the words "Harry and Ron - 2nd October 2003"

Harry's hand squeezed hers and she felt the tears she hadn't realised had been building roll down her face.

Flipping the pages were a series of baby pictures James Sirius 2nd November 2003, a Christmas… Ron was notably absent from all the pictures.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she flipped to a photo of Ron and a young red-haired girl.

"Rose…"

"Fuck look at her…"

It felt almost wrong to have a photograph of this, but Hermione could only assume this was the moment they were reunited. Given that she could see Molly Weasley sobbing in the background making something on the stove she assumed Arthur had taken it upon himself to document the moment. He always had a way of finding the moments that needed to be remembered.

Ron looked distraught, clinging to a very skinny redheaded little girl with wild matted red curls. Ginny knelt in front of him rubbing his back, speaking to the little girl who looked like a deer in headlights but nodded and appeared to give one-word answers.

She was gaunt and white with a sprinkling of Ron's freckles, she was terrifyingly skinny. She reminded Hermione of Harry when he returned to school after being at the Dursleys for a long period of time.

For once Harry didn't have anything to say about the girl on the page.

Something made her take the picture from the small picture hooks that adorned the page, on the back in Ron's untidy scrawl, "Rose came home 1st March 2006."

"She came home on their birthday…"

Replacing the picture, she moved on to the next page, a picture of the same little girl holding a newly born black-haired baby boy, while sat on a very tired Ginny's knee. Ginny watched the little girl with so much love, combing her hair with her fingers and cuddling her in close. She whispered something in her ear before they were joined by what could only be a slightly older James. He was identical to Harry.

Another photograph of Rose and Ron together in the snow, the writing underneath the photo read "Our first snow 19th December 2006"

They laughed together without a care in the world, their identical red ears, cheeks, and noses made them, he pulled faces at her before nuzzling her nose and Rose laughed her gaunt cheeks now chubby and bright as she smiled widely showing off her prominent front teeth. The two waved at her from the page, in the photo Ron's eyes sparkled again, Rose had given him his Ronness back.

The last page held a photograph of Rose and three other children, underneath it said Rose, James, Albus, and Lily- Christmas 2011. Each of them wore a knitted Santa hat and sat in front of the Weasley's Christmas tree, Rose held all three of the Potter children on her lap, and they laughed. They waved brightly, Harry watched the children on her lap.

"That's the kid who woke me up in the vision Rose showed me…"

As Ron spoke his arms slid around her waist causing Hermione to jump around.

The tent fell silent.

"Shall we let mummy and Daddy have a chat, Rosie?" Harry lifted Rose and without asking permission left the tent.

They were alone now, the deafening silence surrounded them. She was going to expect answers that Ron didn't want to share, he didn't want to relive it but he had seen that look before, and she wasn't going to give up.

"What was she like." The "she" in question needed no clarification.

Ron held the picture of the distraught older version of himself in silence, his heart breaking over again, she had shown him this moment and he could feel the juxtaposition of pain and joy he was feeling in it once again. Replacing the photograph, he closed the book and his eyes and let tears fall. She moved into his arms forcing him to hold her, he tried to move away briefly but given the force she held him, he gave in allowing himself to sob silently into the top of her curly hair.

"I was so lost without you, I never ever gave up hope that I would find you again, and she … well Mione… She was your daughter… even without you, she was so clever, funny, and brave, she made me feel like I had a purpose in life again, she is exactly what you have always been for me and what our Rose is for us here and now, with her there was something to fight for, a reason to live…"

She tilted her head up and he didn't hide the shame of his emotion. He sat down at the table and she joined him, conjuring tissues and dabbing his face, letting her own tears flow freely in sympathy.

"... when they attacked I told her not to come back … she didn't listen… I couldn't protect her… all of this is my fault."

"Ron…"

"He hurt her Mione… in front of me and I did nothing…"

"Who hurt her,"

"Lucius Malfoy…"

"He's not going to hurt her this time though is he…"

"He's already hurt her Mione. She was 13, he …" Ron couldn't finish the sentence, it made him sick the image in his mind.

Hermione took his face in her hands and touched her forehead to his. "Ron, I know I wasn't there but I find it hard to believe that you did nothing."

"They cut my throat… I tried so hard to get to her but… I couldn't" His body shook with emotions, and his throat and eyes burned. She held him, as the minutes passed and he got out what needed to be gotten out. After a long time, she broke free from him, wiping his eyes and nose with tissue and kissing his forehead, whispering "That's not our timeline." before moving to put on a pot of tea.

He surveyed the small pile of books, pulling the biggest one towards him, it looked similar to the tiny one Rose had thrown towards Harry but much bigger and all of the words were in Latin.

"What is this?"

"It's from Dumbledore, it was tiny… but when I touched it, it grew bigger, I can't read it though it's in Latin, I'll need to translate it."

"I'm sure there was a spell to translate whole books, something like "mutalio Linguae Anglicus""

The words transposed into English before his eyes, and Hermione looked distinctly impressed. "How did you know this?"

"McGonagall one transfiguration class, I can't remember what we were doing but the books were in Latin, she saw me struggling with translations and kept me back after class, I do listen sometimes…"

She placed the tea into his hands,

"What else did she show you?"

Ron had been so encompassed by the bad he had almost forgotten the good she had shown him. The second time she had taken his hand, he had seen their first meeting, snowball fights in the yard, many Christmases, two on two quidditch matches, watching her reading in a corner and so many more happy moments. But no matter how much happiness was plied on top, all he could see in his mind was his final moments.

He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it.

The silence lingered between them. She had turned her attention to the cabinet again.

"You aren't going to look at those are you?"

"Of course I am, she told us to. Don't you want to know everything?"

"I saw enough… more than enough,"

Hermione looked torn, he could see she was curious, but he knew in his heart the more he saw the more he would never be able to erase from his mind. When this was over, hopefully, won, but nonetheless, Ron intended to fill his days with happiness and grow his Rose in peace and happiness.

"I'm sorry Mione, by all means, fill your boots, but I don't want to know any more."

"I have to know more." She pulled out her notebook.

"It's your choice, but I can't protect you from that Hermione, if you need to know … I'll go and check on Rose. Bill and Fleur will be back later… I was going to do a nice dinner to announce our engagement is that ok? "

She nodded, a part of her felt filled with dread at the thought of going into the memories alone, but the thirst to know more took over her. He left the tent leaving her alone with her decision.

Opening her notebook she noticed that under her last entry was a note. In Rose's handwriting.

"I have the original notebook, if I am right we should be able to communicate through this."

"Hello Rose"

"Hi, Mum" appeared almost immediately.

"How do I use the Pensive?"

"Take a vial from the cabinet, and pour it into the glass dish. Stick your face in it like you are dunking for apples. When the memory has finished it will kick you out, take your wand hold the memory and put it back into the vial."

Hermione pulled out the small glass bowl placing it in the middle of the table. Taking a random memory in her hand.

The name read "Mum" and there was only one in the section.

The label read "Dead Mum: Do Not Eat" and a blue circle was affixed to it.

Pouring the memory into the bowl and placing her face into it she felt herself falling until a dark dungeon filled her surroundings.

A loud pained grunt came from behind her, and upon turning she came face to face with herself.