June, 1995.
Rose opened her eyes to a most unpleasant throbbing in her head, each pulse sending waves of discomfort through her temples. She blinked slowly, her vision adjusting to the dim light of the room. Disoriented, she glanced around, trying to place where she was.
Turning her head painfully, Rose realized that on either side of her bed, Theo and Charlie were sitting in chairs, both of them peacefully asleep. Charlie's hand was resting next to hers, almost touching. Rose resisted the instinct to reach out, knowing that the touch would likely cause him to wake up. Instead, she focused on her surroundings, trying to piece together how she had ended up there.
She was in the infirmary at Hogwarts. Across the room, Potter slept soundlessly in a bed. Mrs. Weasley was gently fixing the sheets around him, her face painted with concern. Granger was wide awake, gazing thoughtfully out the window next to Potter's bed, a quill in her hand poised over a piece of parchment. Ron was perched in a chair nearby, his head resting on his arm, jerking upwards occasionally as he dozed off, and Bill was slouched in a chair next to his mother, his back turned to Rose.
The movement of lifting her head made her temples throb harder and her vision blur, but she ignored it and lifted herself up in the bed very carefully. Mrs. Weasley and Bill sharply turned their heads in her direction, she quickly drew a finger to her lips, praying they wouldn't wake the room. The scratching of Hermione's quill felt as if someone was dragging nails across a blackboard. Rose squeezed her eyes shut, more sounds flooding her senses—clocks ticking, a distant drip, heavy breathing from a far corner, Mrs. Weasley's quiet sniffs, and even Theo's and Charlie's breathing—everything seemed amplified, almost unbearable.
Straightening herself in the bed, its hinges creaked softly with her movement, and Hermione jerked away from the window as the Weasleys watched Rose. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her body protesting with every move. Bill stood up, but Rose raised a hand to stop him, shaking her head at their curious glances. Each movement felt like a blazing sword to her skull.
She tried to ignore the cacophony of noises, but the more she tried to shut it out, the more her head throbbed. She slowly lifted herself off the bed.
"What are you doing?" Bill whispered, concern evident in his voice.
Rose's throat felt terribly coarse as she muttered, "Air."
She took the goblet off the small table next to the bed and sniffed its contents. Water. She drank in big, thirsty gulps until it was empty. On the table were more items: Clothes, belts, and other odds and ends. Her wand was nowhere in sight.
She carefully moved towards the doors, every muscle in her body burning and screaming at her to stop. But with the Weasleys and Hermione watching, she feared they would make noise if she stumbled, waking up the rest of the infirmary. She carefully planned each step, gently pushed the doors open, cringing at their small creaks, and walked out into the first-floor corridor.
Her vision blurred, and she leaned against the edge of the Unicorn fountain by the doors. The enchanting rustling of water soothed the hot pain in her temples. She dipped her hand into the fountain, wondering if the legends about its healing properties were true. It certainly couldn't hurt, so she splashed some of the water across her face. Then, her own reflection caught her eye.
Rose looked unnaturally pale, sickly even. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her cheeks had no color. She wondered if the reflection was lying. Then, she looked down and realized she was dressed in Theo's silvery pajamas, the light fabric cooling in the drafty hallway. Inspecting her nails, she grimaced at the traces of dried blood around her hands. She proceeded to wash it off in the fountain. Then, she heard light steps behind her—Dumbledore.
The Headmaster quietly perched himself next to her on the fountain, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
"How are you feeling, Ms. Nott?" he asked gently.
Rose smirked weakly. "Peachy, sir."
She had no recollection of how she ended up in the Hospital Wing.
"What happened to me?" she whispered. "Would you tell me, professor?"
"There is no reason to hide any of the truth." His eyes were filled with pity. "Tonight, alongside Harry, you have witnessed the return of Lord Voldemort."
Rose squinted, furrowing her brows in confusion. "In the maze?"
The headmaster shook his head. "In Little Whinging, far away from the school."
Rose tried to remember anything after entering the maze, but apart from flashes of light, her mind was blank. The more she tried to piece the memories together, the more her head hurt. "I don't remember."
"Naturally," he said with a gentle smile. "Your head has suffered a great deal tonight, Ms. Nott. To the terror of your family and friends."
Rose looked up into his eyes, her face a horrified grimace. "Did I die?"
He chuckled softly. "No, no. Nothing of the kind." He looked thoughtful as he continued. "Magic cannot bring the dead back. But fortunately, it can heal a great deal of injuries."
Rose paused, feeling silly. But then her mind raced back to the mention of her family. "Aunt Marion?"
"She left to inform your father, but we should expect her to return any moment now."
Her Father. Rose's throat tightened, and she felt pain in her eyes. "Sir," she hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. "Was he... was he there?"
"Your father?"
She nodded.
"I believe he was."
Rose's chest tightened, and she took in a sharp breath.
"But how—" her voice trembled.
"Harry brought you back with him. You see, the cup was a Portkey."
Rose's head was about to explode from pain. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't feel too well." She muttered weakly.
Dumbledore's expression softened further, his voice gentle and reassuring. "It's all right, Ms. Nott. You've been through an ordeal. You need rest."
Back in bed, Rose closed her eyes, exhaustion washing over her. Charlie was still asleep, his face peaceful despite everything that had happened. She weakly put her hand over his, which was still resting on the edge of the bed. As she drifted into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, she felt his fingers, even in his sleep, intertwine gently with hers.
The next day, Rose was doted on as if she were a long-lost princess finally returned to her kingdom. The hospital wing was transformed into a haven of flowers, with vibrant bouquets of roses covering every available surface near her bedside. The Headmaster had insisted that the two champions stay another night, ensuring they received nothing but the best care. Rose was brought exquisite food and sweets, and a sea of handwritten notes sent by well-wishers and admirers.
Despite the joy, she felt a pang of hurt from her father's and aunt's absence. They should have been there, sharing in her triumph and hurt, but neither came to visit. However, her brother and her housemates had gifted her something even better—the perfect day. Throughout the day, a steady stream of visitors came to see the champions, and each visitor brought something—a token, a treat, a kind word.
The previous night, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, apparently had stormed into the hospital wing, causing quite a commotion in the usually quiet atmosphere of the ward. His presence seemed completely out of place amidst the subdued murmurs and hushed conversations. Later, Theo filled her in on what had happened; Fudge had handed Potter and Rose their winnings from the Triwizard Tournament, the prize money that rightfully belonged to them. There had been a heated argument between Fudge and the Headmaster, but Rose couldn't recall any of it clearly, although Theo claimed that she was stirred awake by the shouting. Her memory of the events after entering the maze was still patchy. Later, she insisted that Potter take her share of the winnings, despite his protests, urging him to treat his friends to a well-deserved holiday as she had similar plans of her own and no need for the money.
Charlie had been by her side since she had opened her eyes, sitting devotedly at her bedside and filling the room with tales from his schooldays. His voice, warm and steady, made her heart beat faster as she watched him move while he spoke. Every now and then, he would gently squeeze her hand or caress her face, and on the rare occasions they were left alone, he would kiss her until she was breathless.
As evening approached, Rose walked with Charlie to the gates of Hogwarts. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the grounds, making everything look almost magical. They walked through the quiet corridors, their footsteps echoing softly. Outside, the air was cool and fresh, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves. They walked slowly, savouring their last moments together and once they had reached the gates, and Charlie turned to face her, his expression turned sour.
"This isn't goodbye," Rose said, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat. "Just a short farewell." she wrapped her arms around him. "You know, I plan on prancing all around the Mediterranean for the summer, get a bit of a tan going."
Charlie chuckled, pulling her closer. "Coincidentally, I might have a few weeks off work," he murmured into her hair.
She looked up at him, her heart swelling with affection. "Good. Then we'll see each other very soon."
He kissed her with hunger, his lips tender against hers, leaving her yearning for more, for just one more day with him. When they finally parted, Rose stood watching as he walked away, her eyes tracing his diminishing figure until he vanished from view, a bittersweet ache settling in her chest.
Reluctantly, Rose turned back towards the hospital wing. The corridors felt emptier now, the air cooler without Charlie's warmth beside her. As she entered, she found Potter sitting alone. She grabbed a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and settled down on the foot of his bed.
"I once got a pepper-flavoured one once and it nearly made me gag," she remarked, offering him the box.
"That's unfortunate," Potter replied, picking out a bean and inspecting it closely.
They sat quietly for a while, sharing the sweets and chuckling at the unpleasant flavours. But beneath the light-hearted banter, Rose's mind was racing, her curiosity growing stronger. She glanced at him, noticing the shadows under his eyes and the tension in his posture.
"What really happened in the graveyard, Potter?" she asked gently.
"You probably know most of it," Potter hesitated, his gaze avoiding her. "Sorry about your wand," he murmured.
"It's just a piece of wood," she said offering him a reassuring smile. "I meant, about the others you saw there," she pressed. "I can handle it, Potter, I'm not a little girl. Please."
Taking a deep breath, Potter nodded slowly. He began recounting the events of the night, starting from the moment Rose was stunned. As he spoke, Rose could see the pain etched into his features. She listened silently, her heart breaking with every word.
When he finished, a heavy silence hung between them. Without thinking, Rose jumped up, startling him, and pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears.
"Me too, Rose."
The Hogwarts Express thundered through the countryside, its rhythmic clatter filling the compartment where Amelia, Rose, and Graham lounged comfortably. Amelia lounged on one side, absorbed in the latest issue of Witch Weekly, occasionally flipping pages with exaggerated interest. Rose, sitting opposite her, hummed softly as she scribbled furiously in her new journal, her quill dancing across the pages. Graham, next to her, sulked out of the window with a dark expression, his forehead creased in deep thought. None dared mention anything from the Headmaster's speech on the End-Of-Terms feast, all three of them pretending that everything was completely back to normal.
Amelia lowered her magazine, giving Graham a playful jab with her foot. "Knock it off. It's not the end of the world. Just a bit of a setback, yeah?"
Graham sighed heavily, still staring out of the window. "A bit of a setback? I've practically ruined my life."
Rose glanced up from her journal, "Oh, stop being so melodramatic, Graham," she rolled her eyes. "You'll be off playing Quidditch all summer. Knowing you, there won't be any time to think about anything else."
Amelia chuckled at Rose's attempt to lighten the mood, but Graham managed only a faint smile. Curious about Rose's journaling, Amelia leaned forward. "What's all that scribbling about, then?"
Rose grinned excitedly. "I'm planning my holiday. Morocco, Greece, Turkey..."
Amelia raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought you lot were more interesting than my magazine," she quipped, waving it in the air. "Check this out: GIANT BATS AMBUSH UNSUSPECTING WIZARD, TOSS HIM OFF HIS BROOM."
Once Graham had lightened up a little, the hours slipped away unnoticed as they lost themselves in lively conversation, their laughter echoing through the compartment. Despite everything, in that brief moment on the train, they were just kids again. No dark wizards, just anticipation of their summer adventures and the fact they had no more homework until the new term, they giggled as if they were twelve once again.
After the train pulled into the station and the everyone began to disembark, the platform filled with the sounds of tearful goodbyes and excited reunions. Rose stood with her brother, her eyes scanning the crowd one last time before they turned to leave. She pulled Theo toward the exit, her arm linked with his, their steps in sync as they moved away from the crowd of students and parents.
"I cannot believe he didn't come," Theo muttered, his tone laced with annoyance.
"Who cares?" Rose replied, trying to keep her voice light. "Let's spend a couple of days here, at Mama's house."
Theo looked intrigued but then shook his head. "But won't he be expecting us?"
"He'll simply have to come and fetch us then," she said with a mischievous smile. "Besides, I need a new wand, and you require some new clothes. Look at you! Those trousers are nearly too short. That settles it, I'm taking you shopping!"
"Oh, Salazar, help me," Theo groaned, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
The bustling noise of the platform faded into the background as they made their way through the Muggle station, their trunks rolling behind them. The air was filled with the scent of summer and the faint aroma of street food from nearby vendors. As they stepped outside, the city greeted them with the sounds of honking cars, distant chatter, and the ever-present hum of nightlife.
Rose tightened her grip on Theo's arm, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "This is going to be such fun, Theo. Trust me."
Theo sighed dramatically but didn't resist. "Very well, but you're buying dinner."
"I'll even throw in a pint or two," Rose laughed, leading the way with a determined stride. The moon shone brightly above, the streetlights casting a glow on the pavement and promising a summer full of possibilities.