Chapter Text
30 August 2022
Dear Diary,
My adventures in the States have officially come to an end. I can’t believe four years have passed by so fast! I’ll always think fondly of my undergrad here at the Ilvermorny University, but I am very excited to move to London.
Yes, you heard it right - London, Baby!
I’ve been accepted for an Advanced Transfiguration Master's at the Merlin & Morgana University of Witchcraft and Wizardry (MMU for short), starting 1st of September. I’m flying out tomorrow - Muggle-style in keeping with my post-graduation trip across the US - and will be staying with my Uncle Harry, who incidentally is a DADA Professor at the MMU. (He’s also not my real uncle, we’re not related, but since he saved the world with mum and Ron, we call him that).
I hope we’ll get along okay… I haven’t had to live with anyone over the last 4 years (thank you very much step-papa Draco for the studio flat!), so I’m not sure what to expect. I also haven’t seen Uncle Harry since I was about 10, and my memories of him are a bit patchy. I remember him being calm, cool and collected, and always up for playing Quidditch with Teddy, Victoire and me, so I guess that speaks in his favour?
But I’m terribly excited for London and all it has to offer. I never got to live in a metropolis before, since we moved to the countryside when mum was pregnant with me, and even once she remarried, we were out in Wiltshire at Malfoy Manor. Ilvermony University was unfortunately also out in the sticks. Can’t wait to catch up with Hogwarts friends who have settled in the city!
Anyway, I better start packing! Perhaps I should consider an Undetectable Extension Charm…
(joking!)
xxx
Harry made his way through the throngs of people gathered around the arrival gates at Heathrow. Rose was supposed to land any minute now, and he had promised Hermione that he would pick her up and get her safe and sound back to Grimmauld. One could have been excused for mistakenly thinking that Hermione was some pureblood witch, who had never stepped foot in the Muggle world, by how much fuss she made about Rose travelling across London. She sent him three god-damn owls on the topic: one a week ago, one a day ago and one an hour before he was supposed to leave for the airport. He was a fully grown 42-year old man, for Merlin’s sake, he could get to one appointment on time! He guessed that since Hermione had little to do with him in any official capacity over the last 22 years, all her opinions on his punctuality were informed by his 20-year old hungover and under-slept self stumbling into the Ministry late for his Auror training.
However, here he was, not only on time, but with minutes to spare. He chose to lean against a column to the side and wait, as he wasn’t quite sure who to look out for, since the last time he had seen Rose Weasley she was a 10-year old gangly pre-teen with a head drowned under riotous coppery curls. He figured she would recognise him. Hopefully. Unless he’d aged terribly beyond recognition over the last 12 years and no one had bothered to tell him. Perhaps he should have brought a sign. Everyone around seemed to have a sign.
Harry started scanning the crowd just in case he might spot her. There were a lot of families with children making their way out the gates, all back from holidays, ready to start school. Business people were trying to slalom their way through the unruly crowds. His gaze snagged on a pair of long legs clad in lilac-coloured leggings, and made its way up to take in the woman’s toned body and full bust covered by a matching sports bra. Up and up he went until his eyes met her luscious coppery curls flowing out of a high ponytail. He had to hand it to the Muggles, their athleisure-wear left one with a feast for the eyes. The woman’s head turned, azure eyes suddenly filled with recognition. His brain buffered for a second. Those were the exact shade as Ron’s eyes.
Godric’s bloody bollocks! He had just been ogling Rose fucking Weasley?!
Yes, yes he had, and she was now making her way to him with a full smile, dragging two massive suitcases behind her, as if they weighed nothing.
‘Uncle Harry!’ she threw her arms around his neck and enveloped him in a restrictive hug. His body froze, unsure what to do, where to put his hands, given his misplaced thoughts a moment ago. He figured hovering his palms over her shoulders was safe enough. ‘Thank you for picking me up, you shouldn’t have gone to the trouble!’ she said as she finally released him and took a step back.
‘No trouble,' he shifted and pushed his hands as far down into his jeans pockets as they would go. ‘Also, I expect a Howler from your mum would have been the least of my troubles if I hadn’t.’
Rose rolled her sparkling eyes with a grin. ‘Ignore her. She’s overbearing. Can’t wrap her head around the fact that I’m an adult now.’
‘Indeed,’ the statement lingered in the air between them while they stared at each other in silence for a second too long. It seemed like both of them needed a minute of composure as they couldn’t quite fathom that the person standing in front of them was the one they were actually supposed to meet.
‘Shall we? Here, let me grab these for you.' Harry reached for the handles and missed a step as the overstuffed bags rolled away at the touch of a finger.
'Rose, did you just place a featherlight charm on these in an airport brimming with Muggles?’ he ground out through his teeth in an exaggerated whisper. She seemed at least somewhat abashed as her neck and cheeks turned rosy.
‘It would have otherwise been impossible for me to carry them … especially with the extension charm dragging them down …,’ her voice slowly petered out as she realised she had said too much.
Harry imagined he must have looked quite crazed at the moment, with his eyes bulging out, and face turning a worrying shade of purple. Without another word, he grabbed the suitcases and started pulling them behind him, trying his best not to seem too at ease with their weight. He could see Rose follow him from the corner of his eye.
Merlin help him, this hadn’t been a good start to their year as roommates. Maybe he should have taken Draco’s side when he suggested getting her a studio near the MMU, rather than be so easily convinced by Hermione’s pleading look and arguments that it would be good for her to be around “family”. Perhaps Hermione was onto something and knew she needed someone to keep an eye on her rule-breaking child. Only that he wasn’t a babysitter! And she wasn’t a child anymore!
Unfortunately, given its constant buzz with Muggles and the 24/7 CCTV at every corner, Heathrow didn’t have an Apparition point, which meant they had to make their way to the city Muggle-style. Harry flagged down a black cab, opened the door and motioned for Rose to get in first. As the cabbie started to get out of the car to help him with the suitcases, he gestured that he shouldn’t bother; he had it all in hand. Using his best acting skills, Harry flexed his arms as he picked the luggage up and slowly placed it inside the car.
They didn’t speak for the first half of their one-hour car ride. He could tell Rose was nervous as she kept fidgeting with her phone, locking and unlocking it without actually properly looking at it. Her woody pomegranate scent was filling the car and making him slightly lightheaded.
Finally, he decided to put her out of her misery. 'I’m not mad. You just took me by surprise. I didn’t expect to have to think on my feet in the middle of a crowded airport.’
‘I’m sorry. I should have warned you. But I promise that I was very safe. I put them on in the bathroom behind closed doors. Also, not that the argument will necessarily work in my favour, but that’s how I travelled for the last two months across the US, and no one was ever the wiser,' she said with a small upwards tilt of her lips. He couldn’t stop a grin from tugging at his.
‘Just because you didn’t get caught, doesn’t make it right.'
‘Indeed. Just like all those times you, mum and Ron didn’t get caught during your various adventures at school?’ at this her smile took over her face, alighting her eyes with mirth.
‘We …’ he stuttered over his reply, ‘we had very good reasons for our adventures. And actually got caught more often than not,' he gave her a sideways look.
‘If you say so…’ she replied in a sing-song voice while mirroring his side-eye.
They fell into comfortable silence for the rest of the journey to Grimmauld Place, where once they arrived, he repeated his little show of taking the suitcases out of the car. This time, Rose was standing outside next to him, and he caught her stifling a giggle as she watched his abysmal acting skills. He gave her a stern look, at which she clapped a hand over her mouth and nodded solemnly.
Once inside the house, they made their way to the first floor.
‘This is your room, bathroom is the door in the middle, and I’m just across on the other side of the hallway.’
If this had still been the Grimmauld of yesteryear, she could have had the whole second floor to herself, but during his time as an Auror he had turned it into a large training area, equipped with every possible Muggle training machinery and magical duelling items. Though no longer an Auror, he was still very much a bachelor, and, therefore, never considered changing it back, as the equipment saved him from having to frequent a Muggle gym or make use of the duelling rooms at the university.
‘Hungry?’
‘Famished! As much as I like to get the Muggle experience of travelling by plane, I will admit the food up there leaves something to be desired.’
‘Good. Hope you like carbonara. Come downstairs to the kitchen whenever you are ready.’
She gave him a small smile as he turned to leave. He could feel his ears turning red as he made his way to the kitchen. He decided to splash some cold water on his face to clear his head.
Harry told himself things were fine. They made their way home without triggering a DMLE incident and getting arrested. Everything was fine. He had a moment of madness at the airport before he realised who she was, but everything was fine now. His brain most likely just short-circuited because it had been a minute since he’d seen some action.
But now everything was fine. Just fine.
He opened a bottle of Chianti and set about making the carbonara. His cooking skills had greatly improved over the years, especially after Kreacher moved to one of the Ministry’s Retirement Homes for Elves - one of Hermione’s initiatives from her time working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He’d learned to make this particular recipe the correct way from a two-week dalliance with an Italian witch many moons ago.
‘Do you need any help with that?’ he jumped out of his skin, as he hadn’t heard her come downstairs. He’d have to get used to having someone else in the house. It had been just him and his quiet for a very long time.
‘No, almost done. Pour yourself some wine. I assume you like wine, but if not, I can try to dig something else out of the cellar. Not sure what we have down there; potentially some Butterbeer, or perhaps even some soft drinks if we’re lucky.’
‘Wine is good,’ she interrupted his rambling.
With the food ready, they both sat down at the kitchen table and dug in. Rose let out a soft moan at the first bite, the sound of which made his skin electrify. He really needed to get a fucking grip.
‘This is delicious, thank you. I think it’s my first home-cooked meal in months.’
‘Months? How come?’
His question sparked a lengthy retelling of Rose’s adventures travelling across the US Muggle-style with a few Muggle-born friends she made at Ilvermorny. Listening to her, Harry couldn’t help but admire the enthralling joy she was radiating as she recounted her funny anecdotes. Her hair, which she had let down, was swaying around as she gesticulated, sending waves of her intoxicating scent towards him. She was a misplaced vision in the dimly lit kitchen at Grimmauld, as if the space couldn’t quite hold her in. When she stopped to take a sip of her wine, she threw him an amused look. Harry realised that she was waiting for him to say something in reply, but he was too busy watching the red liquid passing her pink lips to register what he was supposed to do. She had caught him staring. He averted his eyes feeling his cheeks redden. He needed to find a safe topic to redirect the conversation.
‘Have you messaged your mum and dad to let them know that you made it here safely?’ he asked while keeping his gaze firmly pointed at the table.
‘Texted mum, but I don’t expect her to have received it, so I’ll follow up with an owl. Draco swears he has tried all manner of curse breakers to try and get some reception at the Manor, but nothing helps. I think he needs to make his peace with the fact that it’s not the blood-wards that are causing the problem but the fact that the Manor is in the middle of nowhere. Even without any magic, one would be hard pressed to find any signal for miles.’
Harry chuckled. ‘Used to have a similar problem here, but once we got some of the wards down, we were able to get signal and even internet.’
‘Thank Merlin for that. I’m not sure I would survive without my phone for a prolonged period of time. But I guess it would be a good strategy to keep me out of the house.’
At this, he actually laughed and dared to steal a glance. With her brow raised, she looked pleased that she made him laugh and managed to get him to pay attention to her again.
‘No need for that. You’re very welcome here, and you’re also very welcome to use my owl, Howard, to message your mum and dad.’
‘Thank you. He’ll only need to fly to mum, not Ron’s.’
‘Ron?’
‘Hmm?’
‘That’s at least the second time I’ve heard you call him Ron.’
She averted her gaze and shifted in her seat. He must have said something wrong. He shouldn’t have prodded.
‘Sorry, didn’t mean to pry. Forget I said anything.’
‘No, it’s fine. I call him Ron. Have been calling him that since he decided to blow up our lives by shacking up with that woman and cheating on mum.’
Harry stared at her in silence. He knew the divorce had been difficult on all three of them, but now, 12 years later, Hermione and Ron seemed to have found a polite understanding which meant they could be in the same room for a few minutes. It had to be a large room, but still, it was something. It had pained him to see them go through all that when Ron started an affair with Lavender and decided to confess it to Hermione after a few months. Harry had been caught in the middle, but thankfully didn’t have to take sides.
However, it seemed like Rose had firmly picked her side and stuck to it ever since. She was now watching Harry with a look of defiance, daring him to say something against calling her dad by his given name.
‘I understand. Like I said, I didn’t mean to prod. I can only imagine how hard that must have been for you. We don’t need to talk about it. I won’t bring Ron up again.’
‘It’s okay. You can bring him up. We occasionally speak, but I don’t keep in touch with him much, unless I absolutely have to,’ she replied while taking a large swig of her wine. He topped her up.
‘Have you met Hugo?’ At this, her face relaxed slightly into something more akin to affection.
‘Yes, a few times. It’s hard to get any time with him, since he’s still young, so she’s always hovering about. I don’t care much to be in her presence.’
‘Mhm. I get that.’
The conversation tapered off, and they sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, before Rose made her way back up to get settled in.
While clearing the kitchen, Harry decided that their first day didn’t go too badly. They could do this. They could make it work. It would get easier once they got more comfortable with each other. He had been on his own for so long, that it was only normal to have some growing pains. And if he was being honest with himself, he never really lived with any other human being during his adult life before - if you didn’t count the year in the tent and his two-year relationship with Ginny, during which she did officially live at Grimmauld, but her career with The Holyhead Harpies took her all over the place, so that they barely saw each other. That had been their demise in the end - by the time they were able to be in the same place for longer, they realised they had grown into different people who wanted different things in life. With time their decision turned out to be correct - Ginny had barely ever lived in England over the last 20 years, as her career took her all over the world, especially once she retired from active play and turned to coaching. She was currently managing the National Quidditch Team of Japan, and doing a brilliant job at it.
Harry would regret this naive assessment of his current living situation a few moments later as he made his way to the first floor, when the door to the bathroom suddenly opened, and a dripping mass of hair and limbs smacked into him. His arms shot out to steady Rose as hers flayed while she tried to regain her balance. Unfortunately, the brusque motion untied the towel she had wrapped around her, thus leaving her stark naked. Their shocked eyes locked for a beat as he swiftly dragged his up from looking at her.
Merlin’s soggy balls!
In one sift motion, Harry let go of her as if electrocuted, closed his eyes and turned around with the heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets. The image of her was unfortunately still burning behind his eyelids.
‘Sorry, I didn’t see you coming down the hallway.’
‘No, my mistake, I shouldn’t have walked so close to the door.’
‘I’m decent now, you can turn around.’
‘No, I’m fine. I’ll wait until you make it to your room. I need to use the bathroom anyway.’
‘All right. Good night.’
‘Night, Rose.’
Only once he heard her bedroom door lightly close shut did he dare open his eyes. He rushed into the bathroom, where he was attacked by a cloud of steam imbibed with her woody pomegranate scent. As some of the vapours dispersed and his glasses recovered, Harry was met by an array of makeup and toiletries strewn about, and lacy pastel undergarments hung around various surfaces of the bathroom.
He wasn’t sure which deities he had angered to deserve this, but he had a feeling it was going to be a long year after all. Resigned to his fate, he undressed and stepped into the ice-cold shower.