I know, I know. Here I am with yet another story. But, since my other next-gen is coming to a close I figured I'd start this one for you guys. I have another one in mind as well. Happy reading, let me know what you think!
Discalaimer: I do not own HP or the wonderful world these characters live in. All that credit goes to the lovely JK Rowling and her incredible mind. We should all thank her for being here at this moment. S2
I was bouncing up and down in my chair, as was the usual before breakfast. I tend to be far too hyper in the mornings, something my mother calls a blessing and my father calls a curse.
Apparently, my mum is the same way. She was always up and about well before everyone else, leaving her with several hours of quiet time before everyone else woke up.
"Rosie, would you knock it off?" Hugo said, shuffling into the kitchen and slumping down in the chair next to me, yawning.
I punched him in the arm.
“Don’t. Call. Me. Rosie.” I said, eyes narrowed.
“Oi! Piss off!” he yelled, suddenly more awake.
“Kids, quiet down. Hugo, be nice to your sister. And Rose, he only calls you that to get a rise out of you. You’re merely feeding into it.” Mum said, one hand on her hip as she turned away from the stove for a moment, one eyebrow raised.
“Sorry, mum.” Hugo and I said at the same time, both sitting back in our chairs.
Dad came into the kitchen a few moments later, his hair ruffled and his eyes still half-shut.
“What’s all the noise?” he asked, though it came out more along the lines of “Whtsllthnse?” I guess something you learn over time is how to understand your parents when they speak gibberish. I smiled to myself as mum shook her head, flipping the pancakes.
“That would be your children, of course.” She said, though from her tone of voice, she found it all somewhat humorous.
“What’d you guys do this time?” my father asked, attempting to look at us seriously though his attempt failed miserably.
“He called me Rosie.” I said flatly, gesturing to my brother.
“Hugo, how many times do we have to tell you not to call her Rosie? You know how much she dislikes it. Besides, that’s not a nickname, that’s lengthening her name. And Rose, you know the main reason he does it is to get a reaction out of you, right? He’s a nine year old boy.” My father grumbled, sitting down in his chair and nodding off, his head hitting the table.
“So much for that lecture
,” I thought to myself. My father was hopeless sometimes.
Hugo laughed beside me and I found myself joining in. Mum turned around and shook her head, “he never could stay awake without food in front of him.”
“Rose, dear, would you mind waking your father? Breakfast is nearly ready and he needs to be up.” My mum said from the stove, not even glancing at us.
I sighed to myself and stood up, walking over to my father. I poked his arm and he didn’t seem to move at all.
“Dad.” I said, still nothing. I shook his arm a bit and he still didn’t move. “Dad!” I said a bit louder and he still didn’t stir.
“Mum?” I said and she turned around once more, rolling her eyes at my father.
“Yes, you may.” She said, smiling. Beaming, I ran to grab the pitcher of water from the fridge, something we always had handy for this purpose.
“Three, two, one.” Hugo counted down and I turned the pitcher upside down, dumping its contents on my father’s head.
“BLOODY HELL!” My father said, jumping up and swinging his arm out just after I ducked, causing him to get off balance and slip on the water, nearly falling. He caught the back of the chair and lifted his head, now dripping wet and glared at me.
I set the pitcher down on the table and backed up slowly as his eyes narrowed.
“It was you, today, huh Rose?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
“Sorry daddy.” I said, stifling a smile.
“You better be, you know what this means right?” he said, standing up slowly. My eyes widened and I backed up another step before turning around and running out of the room.
My father’s footsteps followed closely behind and I bolted out the back door, laughing the whole time.
I ran as fast as I could, scrambling up the nearest tree as fast as I could. My father reached the tree moments after me and jumped up, grabbing onto my foot. I pulled and all he got was my shoe, causing him to curse.
“You win.” He said, now laughing. I stood near the top of the tree, my sock nearly slipping as I climbed.
Finally, I burst out laughing, clutching the tree trunk, tears streaming down my face.
“Come on, love. Let’s get some breakfast.” Father said and suddenly I was levitating. I glanced down and saw that he had his wand out, leading me down to the ground where I landed on my feet with ease.
“Well, come on.” I said, grabbing my father’s hand as I skipped back towards the house.
“Rose, aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked, stopping and bending down to pick something up when I realized what it was… my shoe.
“Oh, right.” I said, laughing. I slipped the shoe on halfway and resumed my skipping, which proved to me quite difficult. I nearly fell over ten times by the time we’d finally managed to make it back to the kitchen. I took both shoes off and made my way towards the sink so I could wash my hands.
My mother was cleaning up the water with her wand when we walked in and Hugo was smiling as he watched her. Mum turned back to me as I made my way to the table and lifter her eyebrows.
“What’ve you got into this time, dear?” she asked and I gave her a strange look.
“What do you mean?” I asked and she reached out to wipe something off my nose with her thumb.
“You had dirt smearing your nose,” she said, laughing, “You really are your father’s daughter.”
My father laughed and made his way to the counter where my mother had all the food laid out. He grabbed the pancakes and a huge plate full of eggs and carried them over to the table. My mother grabbed the fruit and a new pitcher of cold water as well as orange juice as my father made his second trip to the counter to grab the bacon.
Breakfast at our house had always been something extravagant. My mother loved cooking and refused to do any of it with magic because she’d been raised to do it without. She said if felt like cheating if she used magic.
The back door opened and a few seconds later, my Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry came in, their kids in tow. Now we could truly begin our breakfast.
“Sorry we’re late.” Ginny said, attempting to flip her hair out of her face but her mane of red hair kept falling into her eyes. “Albus over here insisted on keeping us up late last night to watch the meteor shower and we only just woke up.” She said and Al grinned from behind her.
“So worth it.” He said, sitting down in the chair next to me and instantly grabbing food off every plate.
As if this were the cue, the rest of my family sat down in their spots and began digging in, making it yet another typical morning in the Weasley household.
“James, please, chew with your mouth shut.” Aunt Ginny said and James grimaced. Always the gentleman.
“Rose!” Lily shrieked from across the table, beaming.
“Yes Lily?” I asked, smiling. Lily was two years younger than me and the little sister I’d always wanted.
“You and Al are going to get your letters soon!” She said, bouncing up and down.
Al groaned beside me and Lily glared at him.
“She won’t stop talking about it.” Al explained to me, rolling his eyes.
“I know.” I said, hardly able to breathe. I’d never been more nervous for anything in my life. What if I didn’t get my letter?
“Try to control your excitement, Rose.” James said and I stuck my tongue out at him.
“Kids, enough.” Uncle Harry said and I gave him a grateful look. He smiled at me before turning back to join in conversation with my aunt and parents.
Sometime in the next few days, my life would change. I would either get my letter and find myself making my way to the best school in the whole world, Hogwarts, or not get my letter and have to begin contemplating my place in life.
I tried not to be negative, but I’d always found myself dwelling on what-ifs. It was the logical part of my brain, not wanting to get too excited for the good and therefore wandering to the bad, preparing myself for the worst.
Of course, I’d been studying all sorts of stuff since I was little. Not just magic subjects, but Muggle as well, thanks to my mother being Muggle-born. I suppose it made me a well-rounded person and helped me in all subjects, but it always made me wonder what would happen if I had been born into the muggle world instead, never knowing about magic or the existence of it. Always reading fairytales and wondering what magic could possibly exist out there.
The rest of breakfast flew by without much conflict and eventually, the Potters had to leave, something to take care of, Harry had said and I sighed.
I made my way to my room, perfectly content to spend the day up there, reading and writing.
My room had always been the one place I could truly be relaxed in. It was fairly small, a bed off to the side and a small table next to it. There was a large window on the opposite wall, with a view of the fields beyond. There was a small dresser that held my clothes and a few posters and paintings on the walls. Aside from that, there wasn’t anything but a ladder. The ladder sat in the very center of my room and it led to a door that I could open. When I opened the door, I could climb through and I would be directly under another ladder that led to my own tree house.
We’d built our house right next to a giant tree, the random rooms seeming to fit right into the branches and the uppermost branches reaching right over my room, making a perfect spot to put a tree house. My tree house had everything in it. A desk, a book shelf full of all my favorite books, and a couch that took up the whole back wall. It was all quite simple.
My dad and Uncle Harry had built the entire thing when I was about six years old and had continually begged them to make me one. At first, they were going to go with a traditional one in one of the many trees in the backyard but I’d thought of the idea for this one and
well, the idea became a reality.
I made my way into the tree house and grabbed a book off the shelf, immediately settling into the couch and reading.
~*~*~ 2 hours later ~*~*~
There was a knock and I realized it was someone knocking on the tree house which usually meant one person… my mother.
“Yes, mum?” I said and a few moments later my mother poked her head up.
“Hey love. Can I come up?” she asked, looking around and smiling.
“Sure.” I said, setting the book down and stretching as she made her way in.
“I’ve always loved this. You’re a lucky girl, Rose.” She said, stroking my hair and sitting down next to me.
“I know I am. Thank you, mum.” I said, leaning against her and closing my eyes.
“I brought you something.” She said and I sat up, looking at her curiously.
She laughed, “Nothing too special. Just something I figured you could use.” She said and pulled something out from behind her. It was wrapped and looked like a book. I smiled as she held it out to me. I took it and immediately began pulling away at the wrappings.
It was a diary.
The cover was white and covered with green and brown vines. The vines made up intricate swirling patterns, some dotted with leaves and, of course, roses.
“I know, I know. Not everyone likes to use them, but I figured since you were always writing, this would help you organize some thoughts and to release everything on the days you want to. Believe me, there are days it’s more useful than you’d know. I kept one, and I regret nothing. I love being able to look back at it.” My mother was now beaming, her eyes filled with tears.
“It’s perfect, mum.” I knew that eventually I could get used to using one.
“Oh, I’m so glad!” she said, clapping her hands together.
“That one is special. It’ll add pages when you begin running low and it remembers everything you tell it. If you ever need to look up a specific day or want to look at a topic, just write it in the little “search” box on the back page.” She said and smiled at me, kissing me on the forehead.
“Th-thank you, mum.” I said and she nodded, leaving the tree house and leaving me to look over the diary that now rested in my hands. Guess it was time to start using it.
June 11th, 2017
I find writing like this to be a bit odd. I mean, I’m not actually writing to anyone; it’s just me telling myself what happened each day so I can go back through and read it at a later date. I hope it serves its purpose and ends up proving to be useful in later years. If anything, you can be what I tell my stories, my troubles, my everything to.
Mum just gave this to me, saying that she’d kept one of her own since she was about my age and that one of her favorite things to do when dad is away is to read through her old passages, especially those regarding him.
I feel like most people start these sorts of things later on, I mean I’m only ten at the moment. But, alas, here I am. It’s now late June and I’m eagerly awaiting my letter to Hogwarts.
Well, I suppose I should fill in some background information so I feel like you actually know me.
My name is Rose Weasley. I’m the daughter of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. My birthday is August 9th, 2006 and I am a Leo. I have a younger brother named Hugo who was born July 20th, 2008. My parents are Harry Potters’ best friends and, well, he’s my uncle. He’s married to my aunt Ginny and I’m quite close with his children, James, Albus, and Lily.
I’m said to have inherited my intelligence from my mother. According to many people I’ve talked to, she was ‘The Brightest Witch of Her Age’ and it shows. I get most of my looks from my father, the red hair, freckles, and blue eyes especially. I did however get the curly, bushy hair from my mother’s side.
Here’s some things most people don’t know. I have a tendency to wander, especially late at night. I usually can’t sleep so I’m up nearly all hours reading whatever I can get my hands on. One of the biggest things most people don’t know, when I go to Hogwarts, I don’t plan on being in Gryffindor. I want to be a Ravenclaw.
I’ve always found something fascinating about being a Ravenclaw especially with my thirst for knowledge. I could read all the books in my house, and believe me there are a lot, and it wouldn’t be enough. I’m fascinated with puzzles, and I love solving riddles. It’s hopeless, but I feel like if my mother hadn’t been a Gryffindor, she would have been a Ravenclaw.
My mother always says that she knew I would be a clever one from a young age. Apparently there were times when I would do something I wasn’t supposed to, even before I could walk and talk, and she’d take a toy away from me only to find it sailing over her head seconds later and into my hands. I’d always figured out cheats or shortcuts in things she’d never even thought possible. Apparently my father didn’t know how to handle me half the time and would just sit there watching me, completely in awe.
My parents are two of the most incredible people in the entire world. My mother, as I said, is beyond brilliant. She is now a spell inventor and is at the Ministry five days a week in her office trying to invent new spells. She keeps claiming she’s close to a breakthrough but can’t reveal any more than that because it’s all confidential until it’s made public. My father, on the other hand, is an auror. He and my uncle Harry became aurors without even completing school, partly due to the fact that they had aided in Voldemort’s defeat and were a part of so much of the war against him.
My parents are the greatest parents outside of work as well. They supported my brother in anything and everything we did and they’ve trained us from a very young age both Muggle and magic subjects. Because my mother is Muggle-born, there’s a strong influence of Muggle things and subjects in our lives and my granddad Arthur ends up joining us half the time when we go to Muggle locations or learn about certain subjects.
My father, because he’s such a big fan and had his moments in school, has taught us how to fly and play Quidditch since we were tiny and as of now, I’m hoping I’ll be able to try out for Seeker or Chaser, I haven’t quite decided which. My brother Hugo, on the other hand has taken after our father and is a natural Keeper.
I have the greatest, and biggest, family a girl could ask for. Though they’re loud and obnoxious at times, I love every minute of it. I have ten cousins, five uncles, four aunts, and both sets of grandparents. Let’s just say, special occasions can get a bit out of hand.
Uncle George is the prankster, apparently he and his twin, who died in the Battle of Hogwarts, were famous for it and own a joke shop called Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He and my aunt Angelina have two kids, Roxanne and Fred II. Uncle Percy had some issues with the family in the past but has since repented and he and his wife Audrey have two kids as well, Lucy and Molly. My uncle Bill is the eldest of my uncles and he and my aunt Fleur have 3 kids, Victoire, Dominique, and Louis. My uncle Charlie is extremely down to earth and is one of the funniest of my uncles, but he isn't married and doesn't have any children. Then there's my aunt Ginny, her and Harry have Lily, James, and Albus. It's a lot of kids and a lot to remember, but all in all, I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Aside from that, there’s not much to me. I’m a pretty boring person and there’s nothing special about me. I’m just… well, Rose.
Until next time,
What did you guys think?! Please, if you read this chapter leave a review. Especially with new stories, I want to see what everyone thinks so I know if I should continue. Thank you all.