i am weary

ROSE, BLOOMING IN ABSENTIA. 🥀 (GOOGLE DOC)

There had been enough happening in the various number of safehouses that he flittered between, that Ron almost felt as though he had not properly rested for days. Admittedly, he had gotten very used to running on minimal sleep, minimal food and minimal thought, but one might start to think that such things were unhealthy. 

Resisting the urge to collapse onto the nearest horizontal surface and sleep until he absolutely could not any longer, Ron moves toward the kitchen instead, his stomach already letting him know it’s exact thoughts about his attempts to deny it. Pushing the door open, he cannot help grin at the familiar face inside, shuffling forward to press a kiss to the crown of his eldest’s head.

“‘Lo,” he mumbles, glancing at the aforementioned food, “Long time, no see. Any chance I can take one of each?”

Rose bites back every urge to spit out “no shit” at the mention of how long it’s been since they’d seen each other -- it’s the beginning of a fight that no one wins. They’re no stranger to not seeing their parents for long stretches of time, even if the sting of separation doesn’t lessen in adulthood. If anything, knowing the full range of tragedy that can befall their family makes each day spent apart more nerve-wracking. On more selfish days, Ro dreams of taking his parents and little brother far, far away - somewhere peaceful enough that taking a moment to well and truly relax wouldn’t mean certain death. 

It’s a nice dream. 

“You sound as though you aren’t excited for a makeover,” Rose feigns shock, with wide eyes and a hand pressed against their chest for emphasis. “B’yeah, I guess. I’d recommend the food first, nails second. Maybe a haircut later if you’re feeling like looking less...Sasquatchian.” 

On Eden’s wrist a pincushion glittered with dozens of shining needles. Their silver stems and golden baubles at the end reflected the light with each flick of her left hand that gathered fabric and pinned, pinned, pinned it to the dress form. The person she was crafting the dress for -- whose very figure she’d measured and charmed to fit -- stood in the corner. It was long past Pippa’s scheduled appointment and normally, Eden would have shoved her out the door of the shop without so much as a by-your-leave.

But she was feeling benevolent at the moment, content to allow the younger witch to dawdle at her side for a while longer. “Heard about the explosions in London the other day, Yaxley? That pathetic Order thinks a few fireworks is going to take down our Dark Lord. What a joke.” 

EDEN, A CURSE ON THE WIND. 🔪 (GOOGLE DOC.) 

There were a mountain of non-perishables piled on the kitchen counter in the safehouse, all purchased or scrounged for for the purpose of feeding the Order members filtering through in preparation for taking back Hogwarts. Rose was on dinner duty tonight, and while they never claimed to have any real talent for cooking, they could follow a recipe. A hearty soup bubbled in a massive pot on the range, and three-and-a-half loaves of crusty bread sat on a cutting board next to the groceries they had no leftover energy to put away. A few people had wandered into the kitchen and claimed their portion, murmuring their thanks to Rose before meandering into the larger dining room to enjoy their meal. 

Ro opted not to join them. They weren’t feeling up for idle chatter. A mug of lukewarm tea and an untouched slice of bread lay next to them as they shook a bottle of midnight blue nail varnish and begin the methodical process of painting their nails. 

The door to the kitchen swung open, revealing a familiar face and mop of red hair. They paused their steady, repetitive strokes of nail polish to wave hello. “Hi, Dad. There’s food if you want it. I’m also offering manicures.” 

date: april 22 7.45pm location: dufftown safehouse who: harry and rose @hercism​

The quiet before the storm had arrived. Harry couldn’t rest, couldn’t wait quietly.  He had always hated the lull before a mission. Now the hour approached, he doubted everything about this plan, including its necessity. Hogwarts had once been his home, but now it was a graveyard. It flashed through his mind every time he tried to quiet it: Remus, Tonks, Arthur, Molly, Fred, Charlie, Kingsley, McGonagall. Colin. Hagrid. He saw them over and over, lying still and pale. At least the ones of them who’d had bodies left to see. They transformed in Harry’s mind, against his will, into his family now. James writhing in pain and falling. All the light going out of Lily’s eyes. Albus attacked, when he should be safe, both warning and revenge aimed at Harry. He shuddered, eyes shutting tightly. It had been easier when the enemy he’d needed to keep out of his head had been Voldemort. Getting up, Harry paced through the safehouse, room to room, face dark enough that anyone he passed didn’t try to stop him. 

It was finding Rose, unsurprisingly at work with a pile of books that eventually stopped him. “Don’t suppose you have time to do a few rounds of Occlumency?” Harry asked, leaning against their doorway. Though he had never liked letting anyone into his mind, they were perhaps the closest thing he had to an exception. He had enough control to keep Rose from seeing the very worst, things he had to protect them from, and with the rest, he trusted them. Besides, he still had to see Albus and say goodbye, just in case, and Harry knew he couldn’t face him in this state. He attempted to compose his features into something more tranquil, finishing offhandedly, “You know I like to keep sharp.” 

Rose felt calm. Well, as calm as they could manage. When they were eight, they read a science magazine that explained the eventual expansion of the sun into its red giant phase, and visions of fire swallowing the Earth consumed their nightmares for a solid year. Their existential dread (even prior to realizing they were a refugee orphan from a major war being raised by people wanted by the dominant regime) was constant. But one thing that was keeping them grounded, feet firmly planted on the floor and most of their concentration focused on creating emergency portkeys for Order members, was their love for their family. If they lost control, turned into an emotional mess, they wouldn’t be of any use to Mum and Dad, Uncle Harry, their cousins. Even the smallest part of a plan being derailed could cost them this mission, and Rose refused to be anything less than precise. Perfect. 

Harry appeared in the doorway, and his query about practicing Occlumency made Rose smile. They made a show of clearing the books and random objects off the cot opposite theirs before waving him inside. “Certainly. Step into my office.”

If they were honest, there was a certain kinship Rose felt with Harry that they’d never quite found with anyone else. Their reasons for needing mastery over their minds differed - Rose, to keep from disappearing; Harry, to keep from being conquered - but he knew what it was like to need that control, and with that came a mutual understanding that went deeper than words. The thought of losing that connection, losing Harry-

No. 

On the table before Rose sat a small pile of worn bricks, varying in size, shape, and color depending on where they’d been filched from the grounds of Hogwarts. They glowed orange with freshly-carved glyphs that cast a warm light across the wix’s features. The bags under their eyes, the furrow in their brow - every sign of stress shown plainly on Ro’s face, though their voice betrayed no tiredness. They’d never known a consistent sleep schedule and didn’t plan on starting one now; not when so much needed to get done. Not when this was one of the only ways they could help. 

“I’ll have someone who’s impersonating a Death Eater return to the village in the morning and put these back where they came from,” they murmured, more to themself than whatever Order members passed through the kitchen in search of a snack or drawn to the smell of coffee wafting from the mug in Ro’s shaking hand. “The activation spell is bombilo. Anyone with that ugly snake tattoo steps on them and they’ll hear screaming so loud, blood’ll leak out of their ears.” 

ROSE, BLOOMING IN ABSENTIA. 🥀 (GOOGLE DOC)