The Roses We Grew

by WhatRebeccaWrites

** This fic was fully editted 31/1/25 ** "There will be two. A boy was born in the closing days of July. His parents defied him 3 times and lived to tell the tale. He would hold the power the Dark Lord was unable or unwilling to comprehend, and a girl born of the sacred - the join of the highest and lowest rank. She will deliver the final blow and end his reign in fire and flames.

28. They Say All Of My Cages Were Mental

In this chapter, we deal with some extremely distressing subjects and as a result, reader discretion is strongly advised.
This chapter contains
*Mild spoilers

A character deals with severe abuse of authority, discussion of falsification of rape,

coerced sex, and suicidal ideologies, that lead to what could be considered extremely distressing scenes. This ideology is discussed from both sides of the coin. The person committing and the person who finds the person after the fact. Please put your mental health first before proceeding, if this is going to trigger you please do not read this chapter.

If you have thoughts similar to the thoughts of the character, please seek help. The world is always better with you in it no matter how hard everything feels in the moment.

I've held on for as long as I can, For the ones that I had to defend, I've been strong every day of my life, If she wants, death could take me this time - Wasteland - Royal & Serpent.

May 6th 1998

The Burrow

I feel as though the sofa in the living room has become my permanent nest, Merlin knows I can't go anywhere else. I can't step further than the path at the end of the garden because of the cuffs and Granny likes me to sit where she can see me. I think she thinks I'm a danger to myself, and if I'm honest she isn't wrong. I'm pretending to read one of my mother's books for the fifth time today but I don't have the energy to focus. I'm so bored, so overwhelmed by the stillness and the stuckness it itches my entire body, I have never felt this tired in my whole life but sleep is not something I can do, I can't switch off and when I do I'm trapped in nightmares. Yeah, sleep is not easy, not without assistance and I'm now banned from having that by Granny who is convinced I am addicted to the stuff. I am addicted, I admit it but sleep deprivation is a form of torture and surely this is doing me worse than just letting me have a mouthful.

I have lived so many years in fight or flight it feels wrong to sit down and take stock, when I do it causes my brain to spiral wildly.

"Rose, there is someone to see you" Granny enters the room and I know immediately something is wrong. I set down my book. Granny's happy demeanour is gone and she looks incredibly sheepish as she shows the person in. "An auror apparently…"

The woman who follows reminds me immediately of Umbridge, which I can only assume is not a good sign. Dressed in a cream skirt suit with loud clicky black heels, her blonde hair pinned to her head in elaborate curls that make her look like one of those 1950s movie stars Granny showed me as a kid. Her horn-rimmed glasses rest on her nose and her face is pursed as though she is sucking a lemon. "Mrs Riddle…"

"It's Weasley…" I say automatically.

She raises her eyebrows "Not legally it's not but we can play this game if you like."

Game? She takes the seat opposite me without being offered. Her quick quotes quill and notepad float beside her.

I feel my hackles rising, my mind racing. If bad feelings were a person they would be her. My Granny watches her with the same expression, and the woman surveys her with a look of disgust. "You may go back to your baking now…"

"I'm not leaving my granddaughter alone with you…" Granny hisses.

"The door will be open, you will be able to listen in on our conversation from outside, I am conducting a formal interview and require only relevant persons to be present."

My granny shoots me a look and indicates she will be right outside the door. The woman waves her hand to the quill and wastes no time.

"Tabitha Critchley…" She stated not holding out her hand. "Well Mrs Riddle, despite your many many details, we couldn't find it."

"What?" I question, unsure what she means.

"The Compound does not exist."

I laugh "It's a giant building in the middle of a field that houses hundreds of people, it shouldn't be hard to find."

"We went to the location, the memories provided and it is just that. A field" Tabitha takes a cigarette from her bag, places it between her lips and reaches back into her bag.

"It will be concealed, it's not going to be out in the open." I spit without remembering to hold my temper. "And you can't smoke in here…"

She stops just short of lighting the disgusting stick or tar. She raises her pencilled eyebrow and returns the items to her bag. "The investigation is closed, Mrs. Riddle."

My mind numbs so quickly, I feel my brain hurting "But … wait no … no .. it's … surely … that's not a proper investigation, what about all those people" I fumble my mind filling with the faces of the men and women and children trapped there right now. "I need to … I need to speak to Kingsley."

"The minister is too busy to be dealing with dirty little liars like you." She leans towards me.

"Excuse me," I'm taken aback by the forwardness of it.

"You heard me you little trollop, you swan around acting like the cock of the walk while on his arm. Maiming and murdering people left right and centre because you feel like it. You are known for your cruelty and lack of remorse. Yet now he is not yet cold in his grave and you turn on him, denounce your wifely status and his power and make up lies about upstanding members of our society because you cannot handle the fact that you let him fill you like a cream bun when he has a wife" The venom seeped from her every pore.

My mind is blank.

And she smiles leaning forward. "In case, that tiny little brain of yours doesn't understand, I'll make this simple. I put it to you, that you are lying about your interactions with Mr Malfoy"

"What…"

The woman twists her quill between her fingers like some parlour trick before flicking it back towards the floating parchment. A satisfied smirk spreads over her lips.

I struggle to comprehend what she means. "Our new minister is keen for us to investigate the accusations you have made against Lucius Malfoy, both current and future. For the record Mrs Riddle, you cannot charge someone for crimes that have not happened yet… after the incorrect observations made about his little project I took the accusations to Mr Malfoy."

My blood runs cold, surely that's not right… he should have been interviewed properly…

"Upon discussion of your accusations, Mr Malfoy was incredibly shocked. He gave me a little peek into your activities." Snape's words suddenly echoed in my mind, what memories could he have shown anyone that were anything short of rape. "the memories, I can assure you, did not show the actions of someone who was not consenting to the acts"

"He raped me…"

"For rape to be proven the word no must be used. Consent is a fickle thing Mrs Riddle, given in many ways." She looks me up and down before continuing, "For example wearing an inviting skirt, sleeping in revealing pyjamas, and failing to stop a man penetrating you, I can assure you there was no mention of the word no over the numerous memories I have personally witnessed."

From these points, I can picture a few of the memories she has seen. Some were particularly brutal. One of them I was asleep. But according to her, I consented "I fought against him though…"

"Perhaps you enjoy rough sex." She smiles and raises her brow questioningly "Everyone has their kinks…"

At this point, I'm sure my granny will come barging in to say something about this. I watch the door, nothing.

"I've silenced the door Mrs Riddle and implemented a Jablockl spell, she will only hear what I make her hear, this is a private conversation after all."

I feel sick. I stand to leave, I need to run to escape but she points her wand at me and my body is thrown back against the couch.

"We aren't finished…" She purses her lips.

I can't take it anymore. "Even if none of my past counts, it was less than three months ago that he strangled me until I almost passed out and raped me when I was too weak to get away. Six months ago he raped me while I slept using a dreamless draught the only reason I knew is because he left his…" I want to claw my skin as I remember the feeling of it. "... Himself, inside me, he used the imperious curse on me and made me have sex with him, for fuck sake he raped me on the night of my wedding."

She smirked at me once more, shaking her head and laughing smugly. " I think you will find that your husband consented on your behalf on your wedding night, he wanted to ensure a child was conceived after all"

I feel my mind stall once more. "How…"

"Memories hold power Mrs Riddle… and besides one doesn't generally enjoy a non-consenting act, some of your interactions would make a muggle porn star blush."

My bright red face now hurts with a mixture of shame that the woman before me had watched … that … and anger that anyone could deny what happened to me, suddenly, I stood in the shower with him once more. In a time that didn't happen. "Your body betrays you little thorn."

I tell myself it was a tactic that he had used to aid him feel his conscience was clear, to show his lack of remorse or to force me to believe it was true that I enjoyed it, the implication that I enjoyed it somehow nullified his responsibility. But I hadn't enjoyed it, it hurt, it made me ill, it has invaded my mind and destroyed my dreams that my body has reacted in a way I now know to be a natural response to stimulus. The rational part of me is pleading to see the truth but that all too familiar voice reared its ugly head.

You led him on, it's all your fault.

And now someone else was telling me the same thing he had. I begin to doubt the little voice that tries to protect me from me.

If this Auror is to be believed this to be the case why would anyone else believe me. Why would anyone believe that I didn't want it. I should have said no. I should have fought more. But to fight led to more hurt. Resistance causes pain. I still vividly remember the feeling of my jaw breaking after telling him no one of the first times. But that voice again reminds me that didn't happen. Not this time. The click that still lingers in my jaw has me second guessing myself.

I had learned over years to decide the path of least resistance. As a child, I learned to make a choice and allow him to do what he needed to. Did that mean I consented?

But something feels wrong. A child. I was a child, maybe not a young child and I was so much older than my years as many people have told me but a person under 17 is considered a minor in our world. Even in my time the rules were still the rules. I was for all intentions a child. I can't stop the words coming out. I'm holding them back like some dirty secret I need to get off my chest. "I was a child" I sob.

"Save your tears Mrs Riddle, no one believes them to be real. You were a child… In a time that no longer exists, the only crime committed here was the grievous bodily harm caused by you on Mr Malfoy…"

"What?" My throat is thick and closing as I try to stop the overwhelming emotions building.

"The castration of Mr Malfoy is a serious matter. You removed the reproductive organ of an upstanding pure blood wizard Mrs Riddle . We have a population crisis brewing and all pure bloods will be required to procreate as widely as possible. That is a crime the punishment for which will not be dropped due to you having friends in temporary high places." She smirks once more. "I suggest you get a very good lawyer, and prepare your daughter for the life to come for her when you are imprisoned. I can't say it will be much different than the one you have already led." Her eyes glisten with a vague happiness.

My heart drops and I can't control my face. She sees her opportunity, I watch her strike like a cobra.

"Imagine it for a little while, Rose, what was her name again … Romi. Imagine your precious little Romi's face as she waits for that door to open. She's desperately waiting for her mummy to come and find her to rescue her from the mean old men. Only you will never come for her will you, Rosie. Every time that door opens will be another customer another man waiting to use her as he sees fit"

Her eyes never leave mine. It's psychology at it's finest, I read it in one of my mum's books from her bag, if someone tells you not to think of a purple elephant, the first thing you do is think of a purple elephant and I'm seeing the purple fucking elephant in the room.

I feel sick now, because I see her face replaced by mine in the memories.

The worst thing Dumbledore ever did to me was dump boxes upon boxes of unmarked memories on my desk and have me sort them, label them, organise them. I saw my torment from the other side. With no warning or consent I saw my mother's torture, my father's sadness, my families deaths. Each of the 8000 strong times I was hurt by evil men whose faces I see every time I close my eyes now burned into my brain for all eternity like a movie, except now it's her face and I cannot cope. The woman knows what she is doing, I see my Romi's face. I see what they do to her. Hear the bones break, the sound they make as they hold her down, I hear her screaming for "Mummy" but I am nowhere to be found, I'm trapped in a room with bars and dementors forcing me to live my worst moments that are nothing compared to her life. The spiralling anxiety bubbles over and I vomit all over the coffee table.

She wrinkles her nose in disgust, takes a small vial of perfume from her pocket and sprays it over the offending smell. She stands, turns to leave. She stalls at the doorway with a little chuckle before turning on her heels once more and offering me her business card… "Tabitha Critchley, Magical Law Specialist." Not an Auror at all, and not just any lawyer. Lucius fucking Malfoys lawyer.

The only person I believe to be a worse human being than Dolores Umbridge.

"We can change this, Mrs Riddle, maybe save her. My client is very eager to come to a deal with you. Your cooperation could change the future for your daughter. If I were you I would consider all three options when they come."

Three? She leaves before I can ask more and I'm left alone with my thoughts once more. Granny enters the room her comfort tea towel in hand

"Well that didn't sound so bad." Granny smiles slightly watching Tabitha leaving. There is a small pop indicating that she is gone, and Granny looks at me. Her face confused for a moment but she runs to throw her arms around me. I'm trying to be strong but it's so hard. She knows she has not heard the full story.

"What happened petal?" her arms feel like sanctuary.

"I'm ok" I whisper. I'm shaking inside, I know it's not her I'm trying to convince.

I hear her clean the coffee table with one spell, and she's pulling me so close to her I'm practically on her lap. I'm staying strong, keeping it all bottled up until she begins to rock me back and forth very slightly. I don't think she knows she's doing it but I can feel the emotions bubbling like sparkling wine, bitter and tangy waiting to explode. When she places one hand on the back of my hair, stroking her fingers through and meeting the knots and tangles from my lack of self care it's my breaking point. She may as well have taken a bottle opener, stabbed my cork and ripped it out herself because without warning I'm suddenly aware of how long it's been since I was clean, how long it's been since I cared. Oh merlin what if I smell. The shame brings up long buried memories. I'm suddenly a small smelly unkempt newly homeless child again having broken a pile of plates at a stranger's home who I have been thrust upon with no notice. She speaks of broken arms but does not punish me for breaking the plates (or vomiting on her clean table) instead she embraces me so tightly I might just die here because heaven knows it would be a nice death to be loved so much. She smells nice. I inhale her because the memory of my first meeting with her is the only thing holding me together, the only part of the small happiness I have had that slams to the front of mind now. It's the only part I remember. My granny always smelled nice and kind and safe and warm. I briefly wonder if one day my Romi will get the opportunity to meet her.

I immediately regret wondering. What if she meets her in the same way I had? Years and years after her birth, after years of not knowing any form of love or kindness. Or will she be born here with Molly Weasley waiting nearby to smother her with love and adoration.

Will my girl grow up in the safety of the Burrow or will my girl have to be put back together by the Weasleys at some unknown later date? Or will she face the deepest sin of never knowing what it is like to be one of their ever expanding pack?

Granny doesn't speak as she holds me. She just hums a little song that I can't put my finger on. It's in the deepest recesses of my mind somewhere hidden, I remember it in the sense that I remember humming it when I was really hurt, when I was allowed to disassociate I would go to the garden in my mind. I hum along in my mind until the penny drops. "Here comes the sun…"

It was one of the only muggle songs Granny liked but she used to sing it to us on days when we were sick or really sad. Because granny always tried to make things better even if she herself was not feeling as though they would ever be better. She never showed her fear and protected her little flock fiercely.

I remember the lyrics as my bubble burst. "Little darling, It's been a long cold lonely winter."

"Children should be allowed to be children." I had heard her hissing to my dad after he had tried to involve me in strategy meetings with the order.

"She knows more about their inner workings than any of us mum. We have to get the information she has while we can…" Dad had angrily said back but ultimately decided she was right. Children should not know the inner workings of war.

Children should be allowed to be children. What about my child? I sob into her shoulder until my face hurts. What am I supposed to do?

"Oh petal" She whispers before scooping me up into her lap. I'm about half a foot taller than her and heavily pregnant, a small part of my mind laughs, it would be comical if it didn't feel so hopeless.

The Burrow

May 7th 1998.

"You haven't moved since yesterday, Rose. I am getting very worried about you." Granny broke my daze with her words and strokes my hair gently. I flinch at her touch but she doesn't remove her hand.

"I'm ok, I'm just tired." My throat croaks as I speak.

"Is it the baby?" She questions softly, and my hand finds my stomach automatically. Granny cares so much it's hard to lie to her.

I shake my head and hear her softly sigh, "Is it that woman from yesterday?"

I'm sure she notices me stop for a moment before I shake my head. "I think I'm going to try to have a sleep."

She smiles at me unconvinced, "Do you want me to bring you a hot chocolate?"

I shake my head, "No thank you," I heave myself from the sofa and ascend the stairs once more. I pick at the cuffs on my wrists, clinking the metal with each step. There is a ball building in my chest, it's been building for a while but I don't know how to get around it. It's like my magic is backing up and eating me from the inside.

I can't escape, the home I used to love is now my prison and I just want to scream, I'm not sure at what point it is supposed to stop.

I open the door to my room, I know I won't sleep, I'll just lay and hope to think of nothing. As the door clicks shut my heart leaps as from the corner of my eye I see the shadowy figure of Draco Malfoy behind my door.

He silences the room and charms the door and I back away. I don't have the strength to deal with him but yet here he is. "How did you get in here?" I ask sharply.

"You would think that stupid grandmother of yours would lock the front door given that we have just had a war and it's still dangerous around here." He speaks with a snarl, when I was in the compound I gained a 6th sense for what was about to happen to me the moment a person looked at me and that red flag is waving now.

"Don't talk about my grandmother like that…" I hiss. I reach for the door and try to open it. He smirks coldly.

"Change your attitude…" his tone is cold and angry.

"Excuse me"

"You heard me, I'm not here to mess around anymore Rose. My mother has given you an ultimatum. I'm here to offer you a third option."

Something has changed in him. I've done something to anger him, but now he is dangerous. He reminds me more and more of his father… with his mother's brains it's a dangerous combination. Tabitha Critchley's words ring in my mind.

"Oh and what would that be" my hands are shaking.

"Take my mark…" he walks towards me until I'm pressed against the wall, his hand snakes around my throat. "All these months, I've had to fuck you while you had my father's mark around your neck… it's not fair…" he hovers his face over my lips. "It's my turn…"

I catch myself in a laugh

"You think this is funny…" his eyes flash darkly and his eyebrows raise as my stomach falls suddenly.

I did find it hilarious. I thought it was a joke but now I'm in the vipers den once more, all I can see is Lucius and suddenly I'm scared. Men always have a look when they want to control. It is never about sex, it's about the power they want to hold. The cuffs on my wrists suddenly feel like weights, my magic bubbling under my skin makes me want to dive out the window. I take a step forward but he grabs my throat and forces me back against the door hard.

"I came yesterday to ask you to marry me… out of the kindness of my heart…" The statement was anything but kind. He sneers at me like his father used to, "Do you really think I want to marry a half-blood little cunt like you? To have to lower myself to your fucking level… but I am trying to do what is right by my daughter. Do you think I want to lower myself to come to this shithole to ask you to drop the charges against my father and allow our lawyers to get you off with the crimes you did just so that you and Romi live in the lap of luxury with me in a home as opposed to this hovel" I would normally bite back but not today. Today Draco is menacing. I've never seen him like this in any timeline, something has changed and it's frightening my heart is racing as I have no way of escape, "Instead you humiliated me and I won't stand for it. Are we going to have to go over your training again? Or are you going to start being a good girl"

He kisses me in a way he never has before, I don't have any fight left in me, submitting to his kiss feels like I'm betraying myself and my morals. I try to push him away and he slams me against the wall.

"What is wrong with you," I whisper as he forces his hand into my jeans. His fingers are on me now and I freeze. I want to escape my mind like I always do. To disassociate and disappear into oblivion. But my mind races.

"N…" He kisses the word away from my mouth.

He pulls his hand free moments later, his finger is slick and he laughs, "I'll take this as a yes…" He smears it on my face and I feel shame prickle in my eyes. His other hand is around my throat, as he guides me to the bed and I can feel my pulse against his finger.

My throat burns, and I can feel tears springing from my eyes. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crying. "If you do this you will be just as bad as your father." For the first time in my life, I plead with Draco fucking Malfoy. What we had was not love, it was barely lust at least it wasn't on my part, but it scratched an itch and kept him at bay from this. I have never believed that Draco was inherently a bad person, more a victim of circumstances. Until now.

He rips down my trousers and invades me with his fingers and I feel numb once more, "This is…" his lips meet mine again before gently shushing me.

"I've told you a hundred times. I'm not my father and rape is not my style." He breathes in my ear. "So I suggest you start enjoying yourself, that way we can both have a good time" There is the sound of his zip and a rustle of clothing.

"Please don't do this." I blink and the tears I have been holding back fall.

I hear him breathe something wordless, wandless as my body begins to move on its own fruition. I open for him, submit to what he wants, and partake as an active participant as the puppet strings move my limbs and lips kissing him in a way he always liked. And through flashes of times before I'm acutely aware I can't really breathe. I castrated Lucius to stop this happening again but as Draco fumbles with his trousers before far too quickly invading me I know I should have killed them both instead while I had the choice. Cursing my own naivety I realise this never stops, this is my life and if I allow them access to Romi it will be her life too.

I think of Granny downstairs, worrying. I pray that she won't come up because I need to shield her from the knowledge of what is happening right now in her safe place. I'm glad I didn't accept that hot chocolate.

"Why?" I hate myself for sobbing on his shoulder.

"You said yes once," He slams into me as he answers. "Practically…" Slam, "... fucking…" slam "begged…" He adjusts his hips pushing his hand up into my t-shirt squeezing me too hard. "You threw yourself at me when you were well trained… If I hadn't said her name you would have come home with me… and been my little bitch." He laughs before thrusting his hips once more. "You'll fucking say it again you know because you know what will happen if you don't" He kisses me over and over and the puppet strings make me kiss him back, "You are my fucking property," He takes a moment to look at me, and I see him reliving something in his mind. His anger comes back as he slams into me over and over again. "Why is it you have never looked at me the way you looked at him," he grunts between kisses, I have no idea what he is talking about.

"Who?"

Draco stops moving, staring at me as though I have just killed his mother before slamming my head against the wooden frame of the headboard, grabbing my chin so hard his nails dig into my flesh. "You know exactly who I'm talking about, you fucking whore" He slams inside once more and despite the charm making me a willing participant in this I flinch and cry out. "Stop please."

He stops shushing me, placing his thumb on my lips. "Stop isn't an option on the table, Rosie" I feel something in my soul snap, a memory permanently forming. Rosie is well and truly dead now. "Black never paid for it did he?" Sirius's face flashes in my mind, and my heart breaks. "There it is… you knew all along, didn't you… you lying little shrew." I let the tears roll down my face now. "...you gave it to him for free, you spread your fucking legs and fucked him however he wanted, whenever he fucking wanted, didn't you?" Draco hisses, rolling his hips as he speaks. I remember the feeling of Sirius… the way he filled me fully and my body squeezed against the intrusion inside my body. Draco's eyes roll in his head, "That's my good girl, you like it don't you? I want you to enjoy this, I want you to want to fuck me like you fucked him. I want to do what my idiot father couldn't make you do. I'll control you properly, train you like he couldn't. I'll carve my name in your flesh so it will never disappear." I feel entirely numb for the first time in a long time, I stare at the ceiling listening to the combination of Draco's grunts and my hair moving on the bed. It rustles like a mouse in the autumn forest, the gate to the secret garden in my mind creaks open and I take a tender footstep in as I did the last time his father invaded me.

"Remember how you killed him, sliced, my waste of space father, remember how you emasculated him… well I am here I'm here to claim the succession of power and to claim my property and my daughter." There are no gentle deliberate moves now, it's rough and sore and possessive. The trees welcome me back, the flowers bloom as the sunshine soothes my aching body. I have a new owner but I'm greeted like the same old friend. "... because I wasted so much time on pride and ego telling myself I didn't want you like this when all I thought about every single day for 4 years was having those cherry lips wrapped around my dick."

I open my eyes again, leaving my mind to check how long there is left, Draco's nearly there, and I can tell by the vein appearing on his forehead. "... because I'm owed for all those years of protection… standing outside your door listening to you… fucking… other … men… when … it … should … have …been …. Me…" He grabs my hair, dragging it back so I have to look into his eyes. Draco is gone … My Draco is gone in his place, a monster created by the name Malfoy. "I could never have kept your filthy mudblood mother" He thrusts erratically punctuating his words by bashing my cervix "because… you … were always mine…" He groans my name as he finishes. Holding my belly possessively. Romi kicks his hand, trying to escape while I wish for death.

He doesn't care, doesn't notice that I have died a little, he smiles the Malfoy smirk, the vindictive laugh followed by the gentlest kiss on my forehead, his grey eyes returning to gentle and caring as he zips himself. I close my eyes and his thumb rubs the tear from my cheek. "I'll give you tonight to think about it, sweetheart. Take my mark and all this goes away, you become a Malfoy lady and all your dreams come true."

If I take his mark this will never end.

"I'll take your mother's option. I'll sign the document, denying your father's project's existence and that will end it." I breathe a shaky breath. I don't want to do that but he leaves me no choice. As he dresses leaving me on the bed exposed. "You can sign your rights away to her and move on. You still have Astoria and Scorpius. He will be legitimate, you loved her in the other time, I saw it… you don't need me."

"You really think I'm going to sign my rights away to the one thing that binds you to me, when according to mother I can have both you and my wife… as long as you stay silent in the background, I can have her publicly, my daughter can even be known to the world, spoiled like any Malfoy lady should be, and then when the journalists leave and my wife has fucked off to whatever part of the manor she wants, I can attend to your bedroom, whenever I need a real release."

"My daughter will be staying with me… and you won't hurt me in front of her." I say through thick tears.

He grabs my face, "My daughter will grow up knowing her mother died bringing her into this world." I feel the air leaving my lungs. "My daughter will do her duty and marry the most eligible pureblood wizard who comes along." He wipes his thumb over my bottom lip. "And you will do as you are told because the alternative for you is prison or she takes your place in my father's project." I lock eyes with him and know he is deadly serious. "Until tomorrow sweet thorn…" He places the kiss of death on my forehead and apparates leaving me wondering if it was all real or not.

A knock comes to my door the moment he is gone. "I know you said you didn't want it, Rose, but I brought you hot chocolate, petal."

I don't have time to think, I dive under the cover. "Come in." I wipe my face.

Granny has a tray, she enters gently opening the door with a small shake of her head. "I know it's hard, my sweet petal, but you can't sleep in your clothes." She whispers softly as she reaches the bed, my body aches in a way I remember all too well and for a moment I consider the possibility this may be one of my dissociation moments… I am sure I had this exact one once, after Crabbe and Goyle had finished with me, she came and gave me biscuits, stroked my hair and let me cry into her shoulder… well I thought it was her turned out it was a reaction to the mixing of the really strong pain potion that had been given to me and the LSD that they had drugged me with that made me hallucinate heavily. She strokes the hair back from my shoulder. "Let's get you some pyjamas on instead." with a wave of her wand I'm suddenly in tartan pyjamas, and my stained and contaminated clothes are in the hamper.

She sits on my bed, places the tray over me and waits, she won't be happy until I have taken a bite. I take a biscuit to keep her happy and nibble on it. My throat burns as the crumbs enter my mouth and the sweetness makes me feel sick. It's the same type of biscuit I had the first night I came here, the memories associated with it now forever changed.

I drink the drink she has made with love and feel it's warmth inside my chest moving down to my stomach. It seems to expel the evil from my body as I feel his fluids leaving me, it's not joyful though like it normally is because now his essence seeping into my favourite pyjama's. Nothing is sacred in my life.

I feel an anger brewing within me, I would have felt less aggrieved if I had been violated in a church because this was my home, this place was once my sanctuary, his father violated the outside for me and Draco bastarding Malfoy has now destroyed the inside.

Medusa's story comes to mind now… she is perceived as a monster, a murderer, a fiend but in truth she was a woman violated by Poseidon in Athena's sanctuary she was turned into a beast for her disrespect of the sacred place. Maybe it is my fault, maybe I asked for this. Maybe I brought this evil to them and that is why I deserve punishment.

Tell her what just happened. The little voice shouts in my mind but I can't do that to her. I spare her the evil, I can't let her know that her home is no longer safe. I can't let her know he has tainted it all now, she can never know what happened to me to destroy the tiny fragile part of me that clung on to hope for so long.

I smile my best smile, painting it on like a lady of the night painting with rouge.

She strokes my hair and allows herself a moment to falter, the lines on her forehead soften and I know I have mollified her a small amount. "There she is, my beautiful little Rose. I remember the day you first came here, both with Dumbledore and on your own, always so scared, terrified to put a toe out of line with those beautiful blue eyes that once looked too big for your face. You have such a beautiful smile Petal." She has tears in her eyes. "One day I promise that smile will be a permanent feature again, this little one is going to bring so much light into the world" She rubs my stomach through the cover and I hold back the tears. She takes the tears as fear of the birth. "Even if it hurts for a little while, you forget it almost immediately when that baby is placed on your chest." I can't tell her that there is no world in which I will hold my daughter after her birth. I can't tell her my child will be stolen from my arms as history repeats itself once more, only my fate will be worse than death. I can't tell her that there is no hope, I am broken and nothing in this world will put me back together.

The Burrow

May 8th 1998 15:50pm

Stepping back into the hearth of the Burrow, was similar to being doused with a bucket of iced water. Jean and Henry had waved them away warmly smiling, the house had felt like a warm summer, safe and despite tears shed by Jean and Hermione there was an overwhelming feeling of positivity in the future.

On the other side of the fireplace was winter. Rose had raised her head acknowledging their return when they had appeared that afternoon. But immediately a glazed look covered her eyes.

Molly had bustled over to them, throwing her arms around their little trio. Ron had gestured over to Rose, questioning what was happening. Her eyes filled with tears and Molly whispered it wasn't her place to explain.

Sharing a silent conversation, Hermione took baby Rose into the kitchen with her grandmother and Ron approached Rose with the caution approaching a blast ended Skewt. She was sitting by the fireplace staring into the empty harth. Her cannons blanket wrapped around her despite the sweltering heat. She shook, her bottom jaw jittering as though she was holding a private conversation with herself. She was gaunt and pale, haunted by unseen force. Ron had seen the look on her before, in another life.

"Hi." Ron said softly standing in front of her. She didn't acknowledge his presence. "Can I sit here?"

After a moment of silence, Ron sat next to her. She jumped as though he had apparated into the spot. Clutching her chest she whispered something under her breath.

"Are you ok?" Ron broached.

She said nothing. This time her eyes darted to him and back to the fire. There was so much tension in the air it vibrated in Ron's chest. He reached to rub her arm through the cover, she tensed and tears pooled in her eyes. "It's going to be ok, Rose."

She blinked and the previously pooled tears in her eyes rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them with shaky hands "They think I'm lying." Her voice cracked as her defence dropped.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked softly, "Who thinks you are lying and about what?" He would have under other circumstances given her a hug, but he was almost positive she was crumble into a million pieces if he so much as moved.

"Kingsley, the aurors, everyone, they couldn't find the compound, even though I gave him all the memories all the directions." Rose dug her nail into her thumb, "I gave everything, I had and it wasn't enough."

Ron felt his heart breaking for her, it explained her demeanour, Ron sat silently trying to think of what to say to her. There was nothing he could say that would make any of this better. It couldn't be right or true but she wouldn't look like this for any other reason.

Rose sniffed loudly wiping her eyes on the back of her hands again, "And Lucius fucking Malfoy has altered his memories, making it look like I had an affair with him and they believe him."

Ron shook his head squeezing her shoulder "We all know the truth Rose, he will get his comeuppance one way or another."

"I don't know what to do anymore Dad." Her breathing heightened as she began to twist her nails over her fingers . "I can always see the next move, even when everything is really dark… but I…" Rose was so visibly exhausted it hurt Ron to see.

"How long has it been since you slept properly?" Ron asked.

It was the wrong question to ask Ron knew the moment he asked it, her brow furrowed, her tone changed immediately.

"I don't need sleep." She spat.

"Rosie, I didn't mean it like that." Ron tried to reel back the damage he had done, she visibly tensed at the name. "You have said it yourself, sleep deprivation is a form of torture, how long has it been since you've slept without Dreamless Draught."

"About 5 days before Bellatrix cut your throat." She aimed to maim with the comment. Ron's stomach dropped like he had caught an updraught on this broom.

"How long has it been since you used the Dreamless Draught?" Ron asked again very gently.

"A few months, he was in my room the last time I let my guard down." She wiped her dry nose on the side of her hand.

"You don't have to worry about anything like that any more. You are safe here Rose." Ron rubbed her arm again.

"I thought that too," Rose scoffed, looking angry for the briefest moment before her eyes widened. Suddenly her tone changed "...and then they came in the night and killed everyone I care about."

He sat forward and made her look at him, "I wouldn't let anyone hurt you here? You understand that right"

Rose snorted air through her nose. "Where have I heard that before?"

Ron wrinkled his nose. She had so much venom in her voice. Was she blaming him for what had happened? Her face fell as his changed, her eyes desperately searching for something on his features. "I'm sorry," Tears fell again now, "I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that." Ron grabbed the blanket holding her tight to his shoulder for a moment.

"Hey, hey Rose, shh shh" Ron rubbed her back gently, scooching towards her.

"I just hate everything. I thought it would get better when he was dead. I hoped I would be dead now."

"Don't you dare say that," Ron hissed.

"I hate that they have taken everything from me and they still get away with it." Rose sobbed.

"They haven't taken me, they haven't taken Mum or Harry or Ginny or Granny." Ron whispered, rocking her gently. "We are all right here."

"And now no one believes me, and the Malfoys are going to take my daughter because they are pureblood" She sobbed.

"I would kill every single one of them before I let any of them touch a hair on her head Rosie."

"But I can't do anything because I'm stuck here, I can't run, I can't protect her, I just have to sit back and watch…."

"We won't let them take her..." Ron reiterated, making her look at him once again.

"And how do you plan on working around the law, Dad? Lucius Malfoys lawyer is a fucking bitch"

"Well then we will find a bitchier lawyer, I'm sure someone will be on our side. If no one comes forward, I'll get Harry to make someone help the cause. Fuck knows people are going to clamber to work with THE Harry Potter." Ron laughed, trying so desperately to lighten the mood.

"And what about Draco are you going to stop him?" She hissed.

"What about Draco?" Ron asked with a sudden feeling that he had missed something very important.

Rose scrunched her hands in her hair, her white knuckle grip moved just enough for it to be known that she tugged ever so slightly, enough that it would cause pain but not be obvious what she was doing. Ron took her hands from her hair, he felt her tensing, keeping in the memories back. She shook so obviously that the wonky leg of the sofa began to rattle ever so slightly.

Ron had missed something, there was an important piece of this puzzle that she was not telling him.

"Smudge… you know you can tell me anything right?" He looked at her face, Rose was so pale now her skin was almost translucent. Her eye bags darkened over the course of their conversation. "If something has happened."

A jolt shot through Ron's mind, it was different this time. Draco Malfoy's face shroaded in darkness, his throat constricted taking his words and his air."Stop" She cried loudly.

Rose pushed her hands away. "Please stop…" She let out a small sob, "Please don't touch me, I can't do this anymore, I don't want to talk about it." She untangled herself from her blanket leaving it in its place on the sofa. He watched as Rose excused herself, she climbed the stairs. Ron waited, posed to wave at her as she looked over the third floor bannister as she always did, but no sneaky look came, she climbed to the second floor without looking down at them. Closing her door with a quiet click and a clank of a lock.

Hermione approached him having been watching the interaction from the door. "You ok?" She whispered sitting next to him.

"I'm worried about her" Ron said as a sour taste built in his stomach.

"She's just having a tough time with everything, Ron. She's a fighter, she will be OK"

A hand slapped his back and Harry appeared. "Come on mate, let's finish that game of chess, you can tell me how your trip was." Harry and Hermione shared avery distinct look. "It will be a good distraction for you."

I am trapped. There are no two ways about it, stuck in the spiral heading closer and closer to the start of the cycle once more.

It's exactly the same as my own story. A daughter, I didn't want, but still love beyond anything I can describe, is about to begin the hell that I have lived.

I close the door to my room and suddenly the room implodes around me. I see Draco's face in the shadows, only unlike yesterday it's not just him it's the thousands of faces I see, every time, I close my eyes.

I feel his hands, I feel him inside once more, feel the pain and the shame and the sorrow but it's not going to just be me, it's going to be her.

My magic buzzes in my veins repressed by the bonds that hold me captive. I can't breathe. I can't stop thinking, I see their face over and over. Only they are not with me, they are with her. I was supposed to be dead now. Me and my daughter are supposed to be with my star.

Dumbledore lied about many things but the end of my misery should not be one of those things.

I unleash anger the only way I know how at this point, I punch my head silently screaming wishing I could silence the room and let the rage go. Maybe that would clear the fog that clouds my vision every second of every day.

It has to be silent or they will be up here in a moment. I can feel the darkness building inside me like cancer. The tumour is so huge now it clouds my vision.

I don't want to be a possession again. I can't be a possession again. It just about killed me the first time, I wish it fucking had. But I have to protect her. How the fuck else do I protect her if I don't submit. When I'm property again it won't change how little say I get in her life.

I'll just be signing away myself for a chance of being able to protect her. The smallest, tiniest seen with only the strongest magnification charm known to man chance. But at least, if I'm near her I can take matters into my own hands if I need to. Just like before.

It would be harder when I know her, when I have seen her face, and know her kind soul and watched her consciousness develop, but death would be a mercy I owe her.

Suddenly the fog dissipates and I have a moment of stark and beautiful clarity.

I have to help the one who cannot help herself. She is small and precious untainted by the world around us. I cannot in all conscience allow myself to go to prison and let that monster to be near her.

Being his, will do nothing but guarantee a lifetime of being his toy. It's not about sex or breeding or Romi… it's about the power he wants to wield over me… what if I took the power before she got a chance to breathe the stale corrupt air of this wasteland of a world.

My mother left me a task, a duty I have fulfilled a hundred fold and now I can go on to the other side of the veil knowing that her and my dad will be waiting for me. I can protect her from the life I have lived. I no longer belong in this timeline, everything can be rectified.

I cannot control what happens to the Compound. They cannot fight for themselves but that's not my fight anymore. I don't have the strength to do more for them.

I can change her fate, I can fix her future, she gives me an agreeable kick to the ribs.

If I had magic I could do this cleanly, I would not have to leave them with trauma. Just a bag of meat and bones and a good story to tell. They would get over the trauma eventually, they have each other and the blood will go away with a quick cleaning charm.

My mind races and I can feel the cogs ticking as I reach for parchment. Scrawling intimate workings to those who can try to understand that me not being here is for the greater good. That it wasn't for me it was for her.

They would forget about me, besides they have a better version, who can grow untainted, sheltered and wanted. She has a clan of protectors. Voldemort is dead.

The bad guys still live, the bad guys still rule but it's not my problem now.

The method behind my death, barbaric, the thought of the blade on my skin and the blood coating my wrists makes me heave. But how else without magic. I wish I could sleep, fall into blissful nothingness and wake on the other side of life.

I feel a cog turning in my mind as I finish the final note. I sign it with a heart. All my love Rosie.

The final envelope… I write Dad… seeing it on the page hurts. I cannot burden him with that name, not from me. It has implications for long standing guilts they have no reason to hold… I have written mum on hers too.

Changing the envelopes formally is better. Perhaps I should have remained in the shadows… oh well lesson learned. The cycle ends with me. They will forget me, they have her. Unbroken and perfect their Rose.

Smudge meows continuously, he knows something is wrong but he like everyone else is better off without me. I pick him up and cuddle him into me for the final time. I breathe in his warmth, telling him that I love him before throwing him gently onto the bed. He lands on four paws looking at me with confusion. I close the door gently and hear his loud meowing. I can't say goodbye. It's too painful. Granny will look after him.

I leave my room tidy, no loose ends. All the things I wanted to say have been said.

I feel Romi soothing me, comforting me from within, my precious girl… my highest exultation. I realise as I lock the bathroom door that there is a loose end left and it hurts me to know that no one but me will know her full name, Romione Nova Weasley. The long lonely hours I had spent mixing the letters of their names to try to find some homage to them, but really it was so simple. She would have never used her full name, she would always have been Romi or Ro but she would have grown up to know the story of lovers torn apart by fate given a second chance.

Nova in homage to my star. I don't like the name Nova, it feels wrong but I needed something to honour the man I would have wanted to be her father and any other star sounded too Malfoy or my liking. Something small to pay tribute to the man would have killed any man who sneezed in her direction. My heart hurts to think of Sirius.

Lucius Malfoy taught me men hurt you, they use money to buy your body, they choose to break your mind and expect you to sit down shut up and look pretty while they take what they want.

Draco Malfoy taught me men are spineless and always have underlying meaning to grand gestures. They will tell you they love you, offer to marry you but you should never believe it the mask will slip eventually. They always become their fathers, if not worse.

But Sirius on the other hand Sirius was my silver lining, Wonderful Sirius took my broken parts, he saw each and every splinter of the shattered shell that was me and showed me that love is the most wonderful magical beautiful thing. It heals and mends. He told me that I am a powerful woman and that I choose what happens to me and my daughter. I hope he can forgive me. I hope he can accept her for the part of me that made her. Her father is a monster, but she is innocent.

I've been staring in the mirror too long. I open it looking for a razor but instead find absolution in the form of a bottle of Dreamless Draught. It's more than I deserve, a death that is painless, undamaging, almost like sinking into bliss. Death is a blissful mercy after all and Romi deserves to go out peacefully.

As I climb into the bath, the over sized orange t-shirt clings to my stomach. She kicks desperately, cheering me on.

The drought always tastes like happiness. The effects are almost instantaneous and I remember what I love most about dreamless draught.

I can feel the void building inside me, the darkness that surrounds the edges of my brain and barrels towards me like a train and I'm standing on the tracks with my arms outstretched accepting my fate like a champion. I think of Lily, her green eyes so wide and happy as she tries to catch the butterfly in my hand and I wonder if there are butterflies beyond the veil. I hope there are, I love butterflies.

"Here comes the sun, little darling." Someone is singing so softly, it's lovely to hear singing again. As my mouth hits the water I realise it's me singing.

My head lulls against my shoulder, I can feel the end coming and my heart feels happy. I feel myself squeaking against the porcelain. sinking down the bath. The water is scalding now so hot I can't feel my limbs. I reach for the tap with my foot to turn the water off but I can't find the strength to get it all the way off. It drips slowly, frustrating me that that will be my last unfinished thing.

I slip under feeling the calm of the water. It's like being at the lake, I close my eyes and imagine I'm swimming with Dad, Aunt Ginny and James on a blissful summer day. I breathe deeply and feel warmth brushing my skin. My chest free of constriction for the first time in years.

If this is death it really is as easy as falling asleep.

My porcelain around me melts away, I feel my body floating in the water. After a few breathes, my feet feel the floor beneath me, it's cool like marble or glass and feels nice on my toes. I don't know how it happens, I don't know when it happened but before I know it I'm standing upright. Everything is silent except for the sound of dripping water to accompany me.

I should be scared. I know I should, but the only horrors I know are human and they feel a million miles away, right now. There is white as far as the eye can see, no joins of walls, no horizon, no stars above.

Just white. I feel my heart skip as the panic sets in. What if I am trapped like my dad.

I turn, allowing the water to drip freely from me. It should pool at my feet making the marble slippery but it, like all the pain, seeps away into the white.

Everything around me is getting lighter, so light that it's blinding. I squint my eyes at the source, in the distance, there's something coming into focus a dark shape walking towards me.

A person shrouded in darkness, they wear a mask… a silver death eater mask. I recognise it instantly. I feel my forehead burrowing. I recognise it because it is mine but this person is not me.

She stops just in front of me, with her wandless hand, her silver mask engraved with golden stems that weld the mouth shut. Her uniform stretches around the middle, the plated corset worn to protect the heir pulled too tight. She removes her mask and I gasp.

Her red curls cascades from the hood. Her blue eyes bore into me.

I am she and she is me. She smiles at me, laughs for a moment. "Merlin's saggy ball sack, you've let yourself go have you not?" She is the lioness in the vipers den, the wolf in sheeps clothing.

She takes my hands, swinging them slightly and I laugh a tearful laugh. She puts her hands to my face, the perfect glamour disappears and her smile fades, the bruises, the marks they reveal themselves to me. I put my hand on her cheeks and I smile a tearful smile. She feels trapped.

"You cut his dick off you know…" Her mouth opens slightly, as I allow her to see the memory. She throws her arms around me, she stamps her feet dancing around and squealing, but cries as she realises we made it out of the other side. I cling to her and we cry together. "He can't do that to anyone else."

Over her shoulder, I watch as another figure walks towards me. The Lioness pulls back and smiles before she fades into the ether with her I feel some of the built up anger fading to bliss.

The pawn in the game is next in line. Mentally she is still a child who has no idea what Dumbledore has instore for her, she is hopeful and I won't take that from her. She embraces me, I embrace her holding her so close she fades into me. Fear becomes joy.

I jump as the next figure appears directly in front of me.

She is pale and shakes. Adrenaline coursing through her veins. The murderer who had no choice. Barely seventeen. His blood coating her face, her hands, her dress. I feel pride fill my soul for her.

She looks at me as though I am a ghost, she silently pleads for a sliver of hope and I give her an abundance of that with a silent nod. We made it out. She breaks before me, sinking to her knees on the floor and I wrap my arms around her. I tell her I'm proud of her and a smile appears on her face. She laughs as she crackles and fades, the light breathed into my own body. Any false guilt disappearing from me.

The next figure holds her head high. She wears tight curls. They caked on her makeup. Bruises on her wrists, her thighs and her forehead remind me what has just happened to her. She is the doll they will use until she takes action. She appears much older than her years, she is after all her father's daughter. She has not yet been beaten into submission, violated in too many ways to think about, by too many to count properly.

She holds out her hand for me and I take it standing tall once more, I notice her arms do not yet bear the slurs I have seen every day. I watch in awe as the scars on my own arms disappear leaving pale white freckled flesh

She takes my hand, tilts my chin to the sky. "Don't let the bastards get you down." She twirls me around.

I feel the water to fly off me until I'm dry.

Joy approaches next, reminding me what five years of love can do. A few days younger than the doll. She runs to me with innocent open arms. Unburdened by life.

She holds out her hand before placing her thumb on her nose. She wiggles her fingers and sticks out her tongue. I do the same as we complete mine and James secret hand shake, my heart warms as I remember I get to see him soon too.

We tap our knees crossing our arms, bash our chest one two three four. Turn around and … she's gone…

There is nothing but white for miles around. I turn laughing breathlessly and turn searching for more. No one tells you when you begin to heal the feeling is so addictive.

I stop spinning, and feel a tug at my t shirt. I glance down and see her. Her blue eyes break me. Visibly starved of much more than food, I watch her for a moment and feel sick to my stomach. She was… I was a child. How could anyone ever do that to a child.

"I like your dress."

She watches me with overwhelming fear but still shows me kindness that I know she has not been shown herself. I look down, pulling the hem of my t-shirt down further, I have a small pair of shorts on underneath but suddenly it feels too short, too inappropriate.

"It's a t-shirt sweetheart." I whisper, she whimpers flinching at my voice.

I feel a lump in my throat. She is so scared, I sit on the floor and she copies me sitting opposite me. I reach out my hand and she flinches at the movement but does not move from her spot. I lower my hand, turning it to offer it to her. She watches me nervously analyses the danger before she takes it and climbs onto my lap, I cross my legs allowing her to cocoon herself in the limited space between them. Her hair is matted, her dress dirty. She deserves so much better than they have offered her. Her head rests on my chest, listening to my heart beating… I feel it slowing down, calming as her breathly softens.

"You have a baby in your tummy." She says as she rubs my tummy.

"I do." I cuddle her into me and she tenses at my touch. I kiss the top of her head, because I know that she desperately needs this.

"Do you like her?" She asks softly. Romi kicks her and mini me pats the space she kicked.

"I love her." I rock my little self holding her close, the way Granny does.

"I don't know my mummy." She whispers as she breaks my heart "Do you think my mummy would have liked me?"

I feel the lump in my throat burning and tears spring to my eyes. "Your mummy loved you more than anything in the world sweetheart."

"How do you know?" She asks, her blue eyes so wide I'm sure they have taken over her face.

"Because darling I am you, and I have met our mummy, and she cannot wait to meet you." I watch a small smile appear on her face. She… well I , I suppose… looks as though she will crack at the slightest compliment.

"And my Dad…" She asks nervously

I laugh, "You are your Dad's favourite person, you just haven't had the chance to meet him yet and he will be your favourite person too"

She wells up with tears. "They love me."

"They adore you." I whisper, placing my cheek to hers.

Light fills the area and I squint against the brightness and when it dissipates, there is someone else in her place.

I don't recognise this little person before me. I furrow my brow and look at her, she is heavy in my lap, not fat in the slightest, but she has never known hunger or lack of love and kindness, she is dressed in a new Chudley Cannons t-shirt that is just the right size for her, she wears jeans that fit her, with snitches sewn into the hems and a pair of the brightly coloured muggle shoes I always wanted with the star on the ankle .

She is definitely me but she is a version of me I do not remember ever being. She has a full face, a wide happy smile that looks as though it could be a permanent feature and a tooth missing at the front of her mouth.

Her hair is the most beautiful red I have ever seen, worn in perfect curls, not wild and bushy but sleek and well loved. She wears a large bow at the back of her head, it ties small sections of her hair back out of her face, I recognise the bow with a gasp as one of the ones my granny made for Lily.

It takes a moment but it hits me that I do not know her because she is what is to come. What their little Rose will be when living a life free from trauma and pain. I feel the lump in my throat bubbling up, I am so desperately trying to hold back the emotions so she doesnt sees them on my face.

Future me blinks at me as though I two heads, staring harshly and furrowing her brow. "Who are you?"

"I'm…" I don't get to finish my sentence. She takes a deep breath as though readying herself to dive into water.

"I'm Rose Granger Weasley, I'm Seven years old and I'm top of my class for reading and writing. I have a cat called Crookshanks who is old and a kitten called Smudge, I have a huge family and they are the coolest people ever. My mum is Hermione Granger, she is the cleverest witch of our age, she;s a big deal you know… have you heard of her?" She stops to take a breath, as I try to answer she continues, "Do you know my Dad, he's called Ron Weasley… yeah THE Ron Weasley is MY Dad, how cool is that, he is a war hero you know… killed Death Eaters with his bare hands with my uncle Harry. He took his wand and went… haya… huh…huuuuuuuwwwwaaa…" She jumps from my lap waving her arms about and stabbing the air with a non existent wand. "He is THE best wizard ever. Who do you think would win in a fight between Merlin and my Dad… I think Merlin but I think my Dad would give a good fight, especially if it was fist fighting… he would go hya huh …. Hhhhhhhyyyyyyaaahhhh" She chops wildly at the air beating an unseen force into submission.

I feel laughter building in my chest, it's been so long since I've really laughed properly.

"My Dad is my favourite person… don't tell my mum I said that or she will get upset… but she's just too strict to be my favourite person. Can you make this sound?" She clicks her tongue rhythmically while opening and closing her mouth.

"You have a baby in your belly don't you? I have a talent for knowing what it's going to be…" She kneels suddenly in front of me placing her ear to my belly. "Are you a boy…" she waits "or a girl?" Romi kicks

"It's a girl…" she says with a certain nod. "That's how doctors do it too. They ask they baby what it is and then you know. Do you know how babies are born? I asked my Dad once and he told me he would tell me when I'm older but I have a theory that they come out of your belly button. Like you press the belly button when you are ready and it bursts out like Tada…"

I can no longer contain my laughter as she drags an image of Romi star jumping from my belly button by star jumping in front of me.

"I think me and she will be the best of friends, she's full of mischief just like her dad. Can you imagine when we go to Hogwarts together… imagine it… me and her and Teddy and then James…" She scoffs and puts her hands in her pockets, "Aunt Minnie is going to have a field day when she realises what's coming… She might even retire…" She smiles and waves bye before running into the white.

I'm left with the sounds of my own laughter as a buzz of familiar noise begins to fill the space. I stand and watch as a room comes into view. One I know so well I could close my eyes and paint it in my minds eye. My heart hurts as I once again don't see my star.

So I focus on what I do see the familiar table, the mismatched chairs. The clock on the wall has all of its spoons as it should and I watch as my spoon moves from Mortal peril to Home. At last.

I always knew this place was a touch of heaven.

It's crowded and despite death having seperated me from it for so long I am surprised to see the room bustling with life. One by one I see their faces or at least the backs of their heads. Albus, Lily and James huddle together in a corner of the table next to their dad.

Mum and Dad sit practically attached at the hip, his arm slung around her shoulder, his fingers trace a figure eight on an exposed part of her skin. She places her hand on his chest, both smile such pure and beautiful smiles I almost cry. If there were pictures in the dictionary there's would be next to "happiness".

I have never seen Dad look like that, never so truly happy that it seeps from his pores and brightens his eyes.

Granny is the first to see me. I watch her heart break as she recognises me, she gasps dropping the spoon full of stew she was dishing out. "Oh petal, no" Her voice cracks and she holds her hands to her face. She drops to the floor and Grandpa rushes to her aide.

Mum turns her head and her smile drops. Dad stands from his chair so quickly it topples over.

"Hey…" I whisper with a sudden feeling of regret.

"Checkmate," Harry cheered, raising his clasped hands like a trophy.

Ron stared at the stairway. As Harry snapped aggressively in front of his face he said; "What? Oh well done first time for everything eh?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "Well it would be more satisfying if you were in the room when we were playing."

Ron furrowed his brows, "What's that meant to mean?"

"Mate you were basically absent the whole time, light was on but no one was home… what's going on."

Ron stretched and yawned. He had been distracted, something about the interaction with Rose didn;t sit right with him. She had been low at the point they left to go to the Grangers but now… "Sorry mate."

Hermione, who had been sitting in the smallest armchair with her feet curled underneath her and a large book open on her lap while they had played, closed her book, with a sigh. Baby Rose slept soundly in the bouncing chair they had bought from a muggle shop earlier the previous day at her feet.

"You do seem far away today." She said gently.

"Something doesn't feel right." Ron said. "I have a bad feeling."

"About what?" Hermione asked, there was a hint of worry in her voice as she questioned.

"Rose, of course, you saw her." Ron nodded to the stairs.

"Ron…" Hermione huffed exacerbated by the conversation.

A small pop of an apparition came from outside the door, it opened without a knock and the trio turned to see Kingsley entering the door.

"Good evening, I was hoping I would catch you here Harry. Can I have a word?" As Harry moved into the kitchen with Kingsley,Ron took the opportunity, jumping from his chair and racing to the bottom of the stairs. Hermione grabbed his arm, giving him a stern glare. "Ron, leave her, if you keep pestering her she will feel overwhelmed and it will break her more."

"I'm just going to…" He was about to lie and say he was going to the toilet but her raised eyebrow stopped him. "...I'll leave her alone the second she tells me to. Okay?"

Hermione shook her head, opening her mouth to argue with him once more when Harry shouted something unintelligible. Hermione's attention turned to Harry and Ron took his chance.

He climbed the stairs two at a time before landing at the door to Fred and George's old room where Rose had been sleeping… or not sleeping as the case would be.

He took a breath steading himself. Should he come out and say "Are you ok?" The little voice in his head practised a few times as he stood outside the door, his hands moved as though he was speaking the words aloud, a few moments passed before he realised he was being a prat and with a deep breath he knocked. Too softly at first. "Rose, are you alright?" he knocked again louder this time. Ron was met only with the sound of silence.

"Rose… you ok?" There was a stillness in the silence, not even the tiniest movement. Ron felt the slow increase in her heart beat, "Can I come in?" He had tried the handle before he could stop himself and it opened, perhaps she was sleeping. Something in this moment felt wrong, she always warded the door, but he was being silly the rest would do her good after all. There was a loud shrill as Smudge darted past him, weaving down the stairs without making a noise with his huge paws. As quickly as Smudge had gone, he returned and Ron heard him begin to chirp and call loudly. Maybe Rose was asleep and ignoring him.

Ron continued into the room. It would be more weird to not enter at this point, "Sorry for barging in I …" Ron stopped himself, looking around confused. The room was completely unoccupied. So unoccupied it looked exactly as it had when Fred and George first moved out. Her bed, which had been Fred's on the left hand side of the room, was made the way his mother always did when she changed the sheets. She did this without fail every Friday at 9 am, even, Ron believed, on the days they had all been at Hogwarts.

On top of the duvet were three items each with an envelope on top. There was nothing accidental about the layout of this scene, they were meant to be found. Ron felt a sickening feeling rising in his stomach and he walked forward, hoping for some other explanation.

The first, her mother's bag. The envelope was addressed to Hermione Jean Granger. But it wasn't Hermione's bag, it was Rose's mother's bag, the handle so threadbare repaired and damaged a hundred thousand times over the twenty three years. The fibres held together only by Rose's love of the item.

The second, the box of memories. The envelope addressed to Grandpa Ducky. Ron felt a burning in his throat…

The third two photographs. One from another life that made his throat close and anger rise faster than he could stop it.

Ronald Biilius Weasley.

A few hours ago he had been Dad. The rejection stung, had he done something wrong for her to change her mind on him. Maybe he wasn't strong enough to be like him. Ron felt his pulse quicken, surely they would know if she had left the house. The paper of the envelope bunched and hesitated as Ron ripped into it desperately seeking some reassurance that the picture painted was not the one he was really seeing.

Dad,

Why had she started this with Dad when he was just Ron… He shook away the thoughts and read on…

I don't know how to start this letter except with I'm sorry. I am sorry that I dropped into your life and caused so much pain and havoc. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to stop and change more, to make it better properly. I am sorry for the pain I am about to cause because I know more than anything this will hurt whoever finds me and who ever has to pick up the pieces from the results of my actions.

Ron felt bile bubbling in his stomach as his mind painted vivid pictures of the possibilities of what her actions could be.

But you have to understand I have not taken this decision or made this choice rashly. I have looked at every possible outcome and every possible solution but none of them are guaranteed and my daughter deserves guaranteed safety.

I need you to understand that I have stayed for so long, when for so long I have wanted to go on, because my purpose was always to keep our family safe, to change the path we were on and give us a new future and I believe I have done that to the best of my abilities. Now you are all safe, you are all as protected as you can be, but not all of my family are safe and I can't fight any more. I don't have the capacity or energy to watch it happen all over again knowing that I cannot stop it.

I need you to understand, this isn't about me. I can endure whatever has been thrown at me, I want to repent for my sins and take the punishment required for the things I have done wrong. But the vicious cycle is starting again and I don't have long to put it right.

I wish things were different but I have to protect Romi while I can. She deserves the same life that your Rosie will get, to be happy and joyful and safe and loved. With a family who love her and no threat of ever being taken, or hurt because of spite or vengeance or the make up of her blood. This is the only way. Please do not be sad, please remember death is a mercy for some of us.

I need you to know that you were and still are my favourite person Dad, when I look at you and Rose. I see my dad and me, and that is the most wonderful thing. You are the most amazing dad to Rose, please never doubt your abilities in that. Granny once said being a dad is your calling in life and I know she was right about that. Everyone can see how much you love her and mum, please never give up on that.

You were the first person to truly love me, you showed me that love exists so now I'm going to see the second. I hope you can forgive me and understand why I did it.

There was at least another page, but Ron's hands shook so much his mind blanked and the only sound he could hear his heartbeat slowing in his ears.

He picked up the photographs slowly, almost fearful they would give answers to the hundreds of questions the letter had posed. The first photograph caused a pain to stab across Ron's brain. He remembered the moment as though he was there, he felt the feeling of her featherlight body in his arms. It was the first moment he held her in another life. She was so painfully thin, her limbs and face almost skeletal, her hair so matted and dirty and the clothes she wore… Ron remembered helping her to burn them, her first bonfire night, she had been struggling with the permanence of her new family she had kept asking when she would need the dress again… She had become a new child after they had turned to ashes.

Ron looked at the version of himself from another life, it was only eight years from now but Merlin's sake he was a broken man, eight years of grief were written on the lines of his face, but with Rose in his arms there was a reason… she was his reason to not only live but to thrive and to grow.

The second photo was so full of hope, a few years of happiness, it was the two of them in the snow full-faced and so happy, Ron remembered that moment as clearly as the first. Ron stared at them feeling utterly numb. Willing her to walk through that door immediately, to find him and chastise him for snooping. But nothing came. "And nothing will come again" the horcrux-like voice was back.

On the back of the photos, she had scrawled "our happy place" followed by a heart.

Ron furrowed his brow, he was Dad in the letter, Dad in the picture. So why his full name on the envelope.

He felt his blood run cold. Everyone's lives were better because of her, this letter didn't seem like the goodbye of a person leaving for a little while.

Smudge danced around his feet screaming up at raked his fingers through his hair.

Meow

Where would she have gone?

Meow

She couldn't have…

Meow

… gone far.

Meow

The tree house maybe…

Meow meow meow

He walked towards the door stumbling over Smudge as he began weaving between Ron's legs.

MEOW MEOW.

"Will you shut the fuck up and let me think?" Ron shouted at the ginger cat. Who looked at him through narrowed eyes before darting away angrily.

On entering the hallway, Smudge was scratching at the bathroom door, screaming once more.

"Ron what is going on?" Hermione quickly ascended the stairs "Who are you telling to…" she stopped speaking on seeing his face. "Ron what's happening?"

"Rose is gone, I think she's going to hurt herself."

Hermione chuckled nervously, her face dropped again, seeing the seriousness on his face. "Why do you think that?"

Meow meow meow

Scratch scratch scratch.

Ron reached the bathroom door and Smudge moved back, weaving between Ron's legs. Ron and Smudge locked eyes and the understanding was instant. He knocked loudly on the bathroom door "Rose." Ron pressed his ear to the door, there was nothing but silence, not even the movement of water. Rose was the most skittish person that Ron had ever met, she would not have been expecting the knock, she would have jumped at the noise. She jumped when people put cutlery on the table too loudly. If she was in the bath, the water would have shifted, if she was sitting on the floor she would have squeaked on the tiles. She could be on the toilet, but even then there would have been a noise. She would never be locked in a room not for this length of time. She hated closed doors, small rooms…

Red flags waved in Ron's mind and his heart rate magnified so much so that he was convinced it was going to explode from his chest. He banged on the door with his fist. "Rose, if you don't open this fucking door, I'm breaking it down."

"Ron what the…" Hermione gasped and moved in front of it, her hands on his chest.

"Don't fucking Ron, me…" Ron shouted and Hermione stepped away from him with a look of terror in her eyes "... move now."

Ron didn't think. Just swung his foot, luckily Hermione moved far enough away, just in time. She screamed asking him what he was doing. The door separated from the lock splintered wood exploded around him and the door swung open and closed once more with a thud. Ron heard screaming from downstairs, and the sound of his mother's thundering angry footsteps on the stairs. "What in the world is going on up here?" She shrieked.

But Ron wasn't listening, he had rounded the door and his heart stopped.

"No…" Ron had never been a religious man, but in the time that it took for the door to open fully Ron had been praying, he had prayed to any force that would listen that he would round the door and Rose would scream at him that he was invading her space. But what Ron saw was something that would replay in his darkest moments for the rest of his life.

Steam filled the bathroom leaving Ron with a heavy fuzzy head. He stood very still and stared at the scene, the reality trickling in all too slowly. Ron knew he needed to act but he felt paralysed.

Rose was peaceful.

She was sleeping.

For the first time in weeks.

Under the water.

The dreamless draught bottle had smashed on the floor beside the bath. He moved so slowly but the glass made its way into his feet with a numb crunch. Time had stopped moving, the world no longer spinning, it imploded, shattering into a thousand fractals like the fragments that cut deep into the souls of his feet. For either seconds or millennia, Ron stared at Rose, suspended in time under the water.

Her mouth was open, her eyes closed.

It was just him and her for the briefest moment, like it had been on that first night all those years in the future, at a time she had fought so hard to stop becoming a reality. She wasn't a little girl anymore, she was a fully grown woman. A fully grown woman who had seen and lived horrors, Ron could not fathom, who did all of this to end the cycle, to protect the child who grew inside her. Rose's eyes were closed, and for another brief moment, Ron felt his heart lighten slightly knowing that she would never have to see another horror again. For that second the world melted into nothing and Ron heard nothing except the ominous dripping of the tap.

But it was only a second. The next second brought clarity, Hermione screamed so loudly only dogs could hear her. Molly Weasley shrieked and all around him, there was chaos and anger and fear and grief, a melting pot of emotions. But in all of it one thing was for sure, Rose Weasley was gone.