: Better late than never. The holidays might be over for you folks, but it's jus starting for Rose Sedley :) I hope you enjoy this story :)
Visual aid to help you imagine the characters in question!
Karen Gillan as Rose Sedley
Matt Smith as Christopher Sedley
: JK owns everything. I'm just a starving artist XD The cast list mentioned above is a list of people I envision to be the characters and is only provided to serve as visual aids for the reader. I have, in no way shape or form, any means to actually procure these actors to be my characters. Thank you!
She was Rose Weasley yet again. Not because her name had changed. After all, her driver’s license still read Rose Sedley of Nutgrove Farm, Floret County, Hampshire, England.
She was Rose Weasley again because she felt like Rose Weasley. How could she feel like Rose Sedley when Christopher Sedley, of the same 22 Nutgrove Farm, Floret County, Hampshire, England, had just died.
She could not be Rose Sedley anymore in anything but name.
However, one vital constant still remained. She was still Rose. And Rose, no matter what her last name would pick herself up after falling down. She would get up in the morning and make herself some tea. She would make herself breakfast and read the Daily Prophet. Perhaps even answer the crossword puzzle in pen. Rose would go to work everyday, putting magical creatures on the mend. She would live as she always had. As she always would.
That was why at approximately seven o’clock that evening, she would activate her portkey and lande right in front of 32 Drowling St., Tidley Hill, Wales, England. Her parent’s home, where she would be spending Christmas just like all the other years before.
She would open the door and say hello to everyone. She would kiss her mother and father hello and she would give her extensive family a hug apiece. She would drink pumpkin juice and laugh at Uncle George’s ear jokes. She would play hide-and-seek with James’s children, play cookie poker with Fred’s daughters and play carols with Louis’s sons.
And after everything was finished, after all the festivities were over and done with, after everyone was nicely settled into every spare room their house had, she would go up to her old room where she and Chris used to stay when they came home for the holidays. She would take out his old Weasley jumper, hold it close to her and allow herself one moment to forget that he was gone. That she’d buried him only a few weeks ago.
She’d tell herself that he was just in the shower, getting ready for bed. She could hear the water running and his horrible singing. He’d be out soon enough and then he’d put on his holiday jumper, get into bed and talk to her until she fell asleep.
Rose would do all of this for she was Rose. And Rose would go on. Rose always went on. Sedley or Weasley.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” his voice whispered in her ear. Or maybe it was the wind. She didn’t care. Not at this point.
“What else can I do?” she answered.
“You can skip the holidays. Give yourself some time. No one would blame you if you did.”
“That’s not what I would do. Not something Rose would do.”
“Their Rose. Not mine. My Rose did whatever she wanted and didn’t care about expectations.”
“Not even her own?”
He laughed. Or at least it felt like she could hear him laughing. She would have laughed too. She almost did. But when she turned around, no one was there. Nothing but an empty house, her packed luggage and a portkey. Chris wasn’t there.
She closed her eyes. He was just hiding, she told herself. Just getting himself something from the kitchen. Just looking for his keys.
“Should I go?” she asked him. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”
“Rose never let me tell her what to do,” he replied again.
“Well I’m asking you now. Just this once. Tell me what to do! Should I go? Should I get away from your pictures, your side of the sink, your closet, everything! What should I do?”
“Rose never let anyone tell her what to do.”
She could feel him smiling. She could almost feel his hands on her shoulders. His lips on her forehead, kissing her the way he always did to calm her down.
She almost cried. But she didn’t.
“I can’t be alone Chris,” she breathed his name out as if it were a silent prayer. “I can’t be alone in this house and be reminded of you all the time. I just can’t.”
“That’s all I needed to know.” Again, she felt his smile on her.
“Then why did you even ask? Why did you even make me think that it was a bad idea? That I could be wrong? Is that your sick, twisted way of making me miss you?”
“Because I needed you to tell yourself that. And because this is my sick and twisted way of knowing that you’ll be alright.”
“No.” The tears she’d been holding back started to escape, one by one. She felt the light shining though her closed eyes, the way it did when a dream was coming to an end. She fought to keep them closed but found no way to escape the light.
“I’m gone Rose. And that’s ok. You’ll be fine without me.”
“I won’t. No I won’t!”
“Now that’s something Rose would never say.”
“Their Rose. Not yours.”
“Open your eyes, my Rose. Its time to go.”