Some days the sky's so blue, Some days the sky's so blue,
I feel like I can talk to you,
An' I know it might sound crazy.
Ron went into Rose's room. The pink walls and laminate floor, so clean. All the toys in storage boxes, all the books, not one out of place in the book shelf.
He sat on the floor, next to the pillows, where he sat when they were having a chat. One of their long ones about Rose's future or her father's stories. Ron sighed. His one and only daughter was gone. She could never be replaced. Being in her room was so hard for him, knowing that someday soon, he was going to have to pack up Rose's things, and move them out to who knows where.
He laid his head back against the wall. Why is God doing this to me? He asked himself, with horrible guilt. Ron kneeled by Rose’s bed and put his hands together in a praying way. He talked quietly, as tears seemed out of his eyes. In one moment, his world became a dystopia. Everything seemed to be going wrong, and the red-headed adult thought that it was time for him to apologise to God for whatever he did wrong. And apologise to his daughter for letting her die.
Hermione popped her head around the white door. She had heard her husband muttering, and wanted to hear who he was talking with. For a moment, Hermione thought that her husband was one the phone, until she realised that he had no phone in his handstand was addressing thin air.
When she heard her daughter's name, tears sprung to her eyes.
James Potter sat on his bed. Pictures scattered around him. He picked up a picture, and sighed.
A picture of Rose, Albus and himself. He remembered that day. It was Victoire’s birthday at The Burrow, two years ago. Everyone was having fun at the party, and his grandfather, Arthur told a joke and took a picture. The moving picture caught the trio at the exact right time. All laughing hard, all having a great time. The three were sat at a table in the garden, flicking pieces of a muggle ‘Party Popper’ that their grandfather had brought home. That was a great day, thought James.
Sighing, he picked up another and stared at it. It was Rose, Uncle Charlie and himself in a tree at The Burrow last summer. James at the top of the tree looking at the camera and laughing. The children’s uncle sat on a branch and Rose hanging upside down, giggling. Her long brunette hair swaying in the wind. That was also a brilliant day, the boy thought.
He remembered that Uncle had gotten back from Romania and they were playing in the tree. Rose accidently ripped her jeans, and was worried that her parents would be mad at her, and in the end they were. Hugo and Lily were going crazy and all the adults were in a good mood.
It was a good day, but like all good things, it had to end. The two children had a copy of the picture, taken by James’ mother, but it was hard for him to know that his cousin could never look at it again. It pained James to think of all the things Rose never got to do. Go to Hogwarts, take her O.W.L’s. The eight year old sighed and closed his eyes. Rose, I need you, thought James.
Author's Note -
Excuse the formatting, it's the only way it would validate. I hope you like this chapter. It was mainly to show how Ron blames himself and James misses his cousin, but he hides his emotions. The memories were mostly inspired from the pictures I have of me when I was younger. Thanks for reading! Remember, reviewers get cookies and a mention in my notes. Only 2 chapters after this one!!