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last online May 18, 2024 13:44:02 GMT -7
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Mar 25, 2020 8:28:19 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2020 8:28:19 GMT -7
june 10, 2025 Rose had never been in shock before. Now, she most certainly was. Her mother was dead, and she was sitting at the table of her aunt and uncle's house as if the world hadn't just stopped turning. She wasn't even sure how she had gotten here. She didn't remember anything since the stadium collapsed, and the sickening realization that her mother wasn't beside her anymore. Rose didn't even know if it was official. She didn't care. Rose knew her mother, and she knew if there was any way in hell she could've been there, she would've been. Hermione was dead. Her mother was dead, and Rose had watched it happen - not up close and personal, but she had seen the stands crumble. She didn't know what to do. Her mother had been her everything; Rose had wanted nothing more than to make her proud. Now what she could do? She could still make her mother proud, but she would never hear those words. Never hear you did good, Rosie. Even through the numbness in her chest, her head, her whole body, Rose knew there was eventually going to be a step forward. Her family, adopted and otherwise, knew how to bear the heaviest burdens. Weasleys always got up. Right now, though, Rose was content to sit at the kitchen table, staring forward with eyes empty and heart even emptier. Albus Severus Potter
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last online May 4, 2024 5:21:44 GMT -7
MINISTRY
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Mar 25, 2020 9:01:34 GMT -7
Post by Albus Severus Potter on Mar 25, 2020 9:01:34 GMT -7
 THE NEWS OF MINISTER HERMIONE'S SHOCKING death swept the nation far faster than Hag's Fever. Albus had had a rare day off and he had been watching the live play of the Quidditch game when the explosion had taken place, the stadium crumbling like dusty newspaper. The thought that his aunt would be hurt, never mind killed, hadn't even crossed his mind. She couldn't die. She was Hermione-Fucking-Granger. But, the news broke and everything Albus had once thought he knew shattered. His mum's expression was enough to do that alone.
Albus stayed at home while his parent's left for the Weasley-Granger house to gather the family in full. They would mourn together here, but he had to stay for Lily and whoever would eventually turn up in search for answers or solace. He could not offer either, so he drank watery gin in the kitchen until his cheeks hurt. Eventually, Rose was ushered in and sat at the table, the first of many.
Albus sat across from her as she stared vacantly ahead. After what felt like a silent lifetime, Albus poured another glass of gin and pushed it across the table towards his cousin, staring at her expectantly. "Drink it," He told her, pulling her hand, which lay palm down and cold on the table, and carefully wrapped each of her fingers around it until they clung. It was like working a mechanical doll. "I think uncle Ron will be here soon." He said, clearing an awkward lump from his throat. "Mum said she'd bring them all here." It was like cramming words in to a room that was already full of them, painfully unspoken.
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last online May 18, 2024 13:44:02 GMT -7
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Mar 25, 2020 10:08:26 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2020 10:08:26 GMT -7
Rose hadn’t even known Albus was in the room until he spoke. Even when he took her hand and wrapped it around the glass, her mind didn’t fully register he was there, and not just a dream. He commanded her to drink the liquid, and Rose obeyed, because she had no other choice. When she swallowed the drink, it burned, and Rose blinked. Oh. Al had given her alcohol. Getting intoxicated hadn’t crossed her mind, but it was a good idea. Or maybe Al just wanted her to do something other than sit and stare, which would also be fair, if her mother wasn’t dead. “He’s not here?” Rose blinked. She had assumed however she had gotten from the stadium to the Potter home had also been the way her father had gotten there. Just further proof of how out of it Rose was. “Who else is coming?” She didn’t think she could stand being surrounded by people who didn’t know what to say to her. Yes, they had lost their aunt, but Hermione was – had been – her mother. Her mother. Rose took another sip of the drink, which she was now able to identify as gin, before setting it back down on the table. “Are you going to get me drunk?” she asked as an afterthought. Just questions, Rose realized – she had asked Al nothing but questions. She was supposed to thank him, she was pretty sure, but her mouth wouldn’t work. Albus Severus Potter
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last online May 4, 2024 5:21:44 GMT -7
MINISTRY
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Mar 26, 2020 8:22:58 GMT -7
Post by Albus Severus Potter on Mar 26, 2020 8:22:58 GMT -7
WATCHING AS SHE FINALLY LIFTED THE GLASS to her mouth mechanically, Albus gave a quiet sigh that something within her must be working. She heard him, even if her expression was still frighteningly blank. Albus did not want to be inside of her head then, he thought it must be a terrible and dark place. However, he wanted her out of it too. It was sucking her in, turning her inside out before his very eyes. He felt sick, grinding his teeth against a mouthful of saliva.
"Not yet," Albus grunted, his mouth stiff at the corners as he continued to watch her. Couldn't tear his eyes away, her brown skin tinged grey. Like the living dead, he thought. Like a prisoner who'd gone a few rounds with a dementor. "I don't know," He admitted, dropping his gaze briefly as he carded a hand through his hair, smoothing it back from his face. "Everybody, probably." He said this unhappily, his nose wrinkling. He loved his family, but he could already feel himself packed shoulder to shoulder like a middle sardine.
His brow crinkling, he looked at her glass and once again, Albus wondered if offering her the drink had been a good idea. But, he was not like his mum or even James. He didn't know how to coddle sadness. Albus was the type to let emotions fester, boil until they spilled over. Sometimes, he was scared Rose was the same. His palm, flat on the table, began sliding across the table, as if to take it back as she asked. "Do you want to get drunk?" He asked, pausing. His mum would probably kill him when she saw, but what else was he supposed to do? Cry? "Or... maybe lay down?" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I don't know what to say, Rose." This was like a plea, for someone, anyone, to tell him how to deal with this correctly.
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