"Letter"

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome back to another fic :) This fic took a bit for me to start, but as soon as I started to write, I couldn't stop. This is a Post-War fic, and going against canon, both Weasley Twins are alive and whole. I've purposefully kept Rose's Dad a secret until the end (because this does not follow canon), but since this piece is here in this collection, I bet you all can guess who Hermione married ;)

As always, R&R.

This one's for Round 1 of The Houses Competition, where I'm in Slytherin House and writing for Transfiguration. This competition, we have to write a drabble (500-1000 words) as well as a standard (1000-3000 words). This fic is the Standard of the two. I've chosen the prompts [Event] Shopping and [Object] Letter.

Thank you kindly to Ash Juillet, Dhrish, and Hope for betaing this.

Word Count: 1790

Disclaimers/Warnings:

Summary: Rose received her Hogwarts Acceptance Letter on her 11th birthday, and suddenly realized there was so much more to her parents' lives than she had thought. Post-War, non-canon compliant. Ignores Epilogue.

Rose clutched her Hogwarts acceptance letter tightly in her hands. She still thought this was a dream, despite her parents telling her otherwise. Her, a witch! Just like in the storybooks and movies that she loved to consume after school on the weekdays.

Rose took after her mother, a mane of riotous curls spilling past her shoulders, with honey-brown eyes that were quick to pick out even the smallest flaw in her peer's classwork. It was a trait that made her very unpopular with her classmates, but she just wanted to help!

She supposed she had been spoiled by her parents. She had been an only child for the longest time, and when she was nine, she had gained a younger brother, so her parents made sure to lavish her with just as much attention as they did on the baby. They were very attentive, making sure to listen to her ramble on and on about what new thing she learned about in school or in a book she had checked out of the library, even if it was something they already knew.

Having grown up with this type of support, Rose had found it disheartening to find her classmates didn't want to listen to her even when she was just sharing something cool she knew. When she noticed her classmates' reactions, she tried to stop talking so much, to keep things to herself, but she just couldn't help it. Rose felt that compulsive need to correct them and share what she knew, to maybe impress them with her knowledge of the subject, and it always backfired on her.

They thought she was showing off, and they bullied her for it.

And so, her parents became her best friends, consoling her during birthday parties where the whole class had been invited, yet no one showed up, and cheering her on as she won first place in academic competitions. They shared with her their own stories of being bullied, and the hope that, in the future, she would find a community that would wholly accept her, quirks and all.

In order to make her feel better, her parents even told her stories of their own adventures at school when they were younger. They would name friends and teachers, but as she stood in the kitchen, with an acceptance letter and supplies list in hand, Rose realized they had never once named what school they had gone to. As she stared down silently at the letter that knew her name, this letter that knew which room was hers on the second floor of their modest home, Rose knew what her parents' alma mater was.

Her parents had gone to Hogwarts, and now, it was her turn.

They had been living as muggles (that was a term she would have to get used to) for as long as she could remember. She apparently hadn't had any bouts of accidental magic when she was younger, and so, the whole family had moved out to the city to get her acquainted with muggle life in case she was a squib (someone who wasn't magical, yet another term she would have to remember). Her parents would wholly support her, no matter what turn her life would take, and while she had been slightly upset she hadn't grown up in a world she should have known, she had grown up surrounded by love and comfort.

Her father knew what it felt like to be unwanted and unloved, and so, he had vowed to do right by her. And if that meant giving up on magic for everyday things for her sake, he had done it in a heartbeat.

She still wasn't entirely sure why her parents had thought she might be a squib. Sure, she might not have shown magic by a certain age, but that could have just meant she was a late bloomer! In any case, she was still magical enough to get accepted into Hogwarts! After hearing her parents' bedtime stories about the wonder there, it was the only school she wanted to go to.

Professor Longbottom, the Herbology Professor, delivered her letter, and he gave the excuse that he just wanted to see old friends after a decade of missing them. They apparently had a lot to catch up on.

Now, with her baby brother off with Grandma Jean, they were able to stand here in the entrance of Diagon Alley, clutching her crumpled letter tightly as she gazed around her in awe. There was activity everywhere she looked, and one eye-wateringly garish-colored storefront nearly made her eyes cross.

She loved it.

"Mummy, Daddy! I wanna go into that one!" she exclaimed as she tugged on her father's robe sleeve. He chuckled before taking her hand and letting her drag him down the path that led to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.

"Our friends Fred and George run this store," her mother told her as Rose paused outside of the shop in wonderment. She stared up at her mum with wide eyes.

"Come on," her father added, before tugging her forward. "Let's go say hello!"

The whirlwind that was the Weasley twins astounded and intrigued her. They were obviously geniuses for coming up with product concepts and creating potions and enchantments to make their ideas come to life. While the twins had bombarded her parents with hugs and admonitions for not keeping in touch better, Rose wandered the shop and looked at all of the products available.

Skiving Snackboxes, a line of joke products like fake wands, muggle whoopee cushion replicas, and a harmonica that glued itself to the mouth of whoever played it, a cosmetic line to pamper the modern witch, all of these sat upon the shelves, easily drawing her eyes from one section to another.

"Mum, can I get that?" she asked, interrupting the conversation her parents were having with the twins. She pointed at a Pygmy puff, and she noticed her dad stifle a chuckle. Rose started to puff up in anger, thinking he was laughing at her, but he quickly interrupted as he walked closer to the case holding the creatures that reminded her of Star Trek's Tribbles.

"What color would you like?" he asked her, reaching into his robe pockets for some money.

"Blue!" she replied instantly as Fred—or George, she couldn't tell—tried to protest.

"We won't let you pay. This one is on the house!" he exclaimed, and her dad immediately began to argue. Her mom stepped forward and motioned to the other twin to open the case.

"The blue one, please," her mum asked, and after Mr. Weasley deposited her desired Puff into her hands, she beamed widely at him.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley!" she exclaimed and he grinned back at her.

"Call me George. Mr. Weasley is my father. Or at least anyone in my family that Professor McGonagall called on in class," he teased. George then handed over a brochure with basic handling information before proceeding further down the aisle to throw a basic starter kit together.

"Thank you, George!" she called after him in an amendment. He grinned widely at her.

"Thirteen Galleons, and I'll throw in an invite for Christmas!" her dad then called out, and Fred exclaimed back in exasperation.

"You keep raising your price! You're supposed to haggle to go lower!" he argued and her dad merely grinned in reply.

"The family and friends discount is ten Galleons higher, right? That's what you told Ron all those years ago," he replied with a grin and Fred sagged in defeat.

"Thirteen Galleons, it is…" he replied, and her dad's grin widened in triumph.

"Here's fifteen, keep the change," he replied, his green eyes sparkling.

"Harry!"

"No take-backs! Don't forget, I'm practically your boss!"

At Rose's questioning glance, her mother leaned in and whispered, "We'll explain later." Rose accepted that easily and instead focused her attention on the blue Pygmy Puff in her hands, already fascinated with the piece of magic in her hands. She couldn't wait to see what else magic could do.

Hours later, a tired but ecstatic Rose stepped into the shop of Mr. Ollivander, whom her mum and dad greeted warmly, Ocean the Blue Pygmy Puff sitting on her mum's shoulder.

"Dragon heartstring and Vine wood for you, yes?" he had asked her mum with a smile. She laughed and nodded. "My father made sure to drill me on the different wands he had sold before he retired to part time." The wandmaker's eyes then fell upon Rose and his smile became kind. "Now, let's see which wand we can match you up with, yes?"

Mr. Ollivander had a creepy vibe to him, as if his eyes saw through her, but as her mum nudged her forward, she nonetheless offered her left hand up after he asked her which her wand arm was. The magical tape measure got to work, taking every measurement possible, before Mr. Ollivander paused and regarded his creations. He reached to pull a few wands out before putting them back immediately, shaking his head and muttering to himself distractedly. He repeated this motion several times, and she looked worriedly at her parents, who both seemed to expect this behavior.

Rose leaned backwards against her mum, feeling her mum's arms come around her in a warm hug as they waited. All too soon, Mr. Ollivander approached them with two wand boxes in hand.

"One is an apple wood with a unicorn mane hair, 8 ½ inches, particularly rigid but wonderful for defense. Go on, give it a swish," he said, holding the wand out to her. Grasping the wand, a warmth filled her arm, and green sparks burst from the wand. Mr. Ollivander hummed in thought, before taking the wand back and handing her the other one. "This one is rose wood, particularly swishy, with a dragon heartstring, 11 inches. Great for charmwork."

If Rose thought the reaction from the first wand was great, the reaction from this wand was wondrous. Warmth filled her entire being, her hair puffing up from the ambient magic in the area, and a shower of golden sparks spilled forth. Looking at all of the adults in the room and their giant smiles, Rose couldn't help but sigh happily.

Her wand chose her. She had magic! Having a wand made everything feel real. Everything since that moment had almost felt like a dream, but the reaction her chosen wand had to her couldn't be fabricated. As soon as she touched it, she knew it was all real. Rose finally let herself get excited for her future. She would finally be going to a place where she would be accepted for who she was, quirks and all.

She was going to Hogwarts.