WICKED GAME!

" No one passed the potatoes. "

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3 AUGUST ; 07:34 PM

II.

Grimmauld Place properly suited its name — it was... grim.

Before being delivered to Sirius' London house, the Potter twins were able to go back to Privet Drive — mercifully empty (they must have taken poor Dudders to hospital), and collect their trunks plus their familiars — Philo and Hedwig.

Philo was a threadsnake, a magical breed apparently, seven inches long and turquoise blue and nearly blind — poor thing. She was very shy and very charming, much like her human, and liked to wrap herself around Rose's wrist like a bracelet. It felt like the utmost betrayal when they discovered Harry could talk to Philo — and Rose couldn't. Honestly. Her brother got to have long insightful conversations with her pet while she couldn't?

How God must laugh.

In fact, Rose thought the witches and wizards who had come to get them (The Order of the Phoenix apparently?) were also having a laugh at them too when they arrived in a seemingly nondescript London neighbourhood with huge brownstones lining a road across a park. That was, until a third building shoved the other two aside and emerged out of thin air.

As if this day couldn't get any bloody weirder.

"Welcome to the headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix," said a man called Kingsley Shacklebolt before being hushed by the others.

Rose was nervously stroking Philo's smooth scales to calm herself when they pushed through the heavy front door, and a high—pitched shrieking immediately erupted from somewhere within the darkness. Rose instinctively stumbled back, only to be accidentally run into by a now purple—haired witch by the name of Tonks. All the while, the screeching hadn't paused at all, and it was so loud and horrible that Harry actually clapped his hands over his ears.

"Ah, d—mn it," growled Alastor Moody — the real Alastor Moody, apparently, "Not again!"

"Again?" Rose could barely hear herself over the racket, "You mean this happens a lot?!"

Suddenly the door at the end of the very dark hallway threw open, revealing a cringing Remus Lupin — dressed as shabbily as ever — as he sprinted towards the staircase separating them.

"Enough! Just— stop it!" Remus shouted at what looked like a portrait of a hideous black—haired woman, still spewing complete venom.

"FILTH! SCUM! BY—PRODUCTS OF DIRT AND VILENESS! BEGONE FROM MY HOME!"

"Pull the sodding curtain!" came the familiar voice of Sirius Black, running into the hall and shouting with a fury, "Quick, pull it—!"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Sirius?!" yelled back Remus, utterly indignant, "Last time I tried, I got bit by a doxy—!"

"YOU VILE FLEA—BITTEN HALF—BREED, HOW DARE YOU TREAD THE HALLOWED HALLS OF THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK—,"

Rose and Harry could only gape, hands still over their ears.

Sirius leapt gracefully onto the landing beside Remus, both of them yanking furiously at heavy curtains surrounding the portrait.

"AND YOU! BLOOD TRAITOR, ABOMINATION, SHAME OF MY FLESH!"

"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut up!"

Finally, after some more shouting and struggling and shuffling, the screaming woman finally fell quiet. The resulting silence seemed to ring in Rose's ears, making her cringe slightly. Slowly, each panting softly, Remus and Sirius turned to face the new arrivals with matching abashed smiles on their faces.

"Er, sorry about that."

While Harry rushed for Sirius, Rose naturally rushed for Remus.

It was well—established that while Sirius Black was Harry's godfather, Remus Lupin was Rose's — in everything but name. When their twins were born, James and Lily wanted to ensure that each of their children had someone of their own if something ever happened to them. Unfortunately, the powers that be rejected their request on the basis of the Werewolf Code of Conduct of 1637 that forbade any Beast or Being (Classification: XXXXX) to have legal rights to a magical child.

So, on paper, Sirius Black was listed as Rose Lily Potter's godfather.

And of course in recent years, Sirius had fulfilled his duty to Rose with as much love and vigour as he did for Harry, but he was not her confidant in the way Remus was.

As her godfather's arms wrapped tightly around her thin body, Rose was instantly overwhelmed with the urge to just tell him.

"Doing all right, Rosie?" Remus asked her, such kindness in his warm eyes that it choked her.

"I... I'm..." Rose paused, drew in a preparatory breath, and then grinned, "I'm grand."

She was an excellent bloody liar.

The truth was bound to come out — but Rose knew she needed to tell their friends first.

As soon as greetings and frustrations over why the hell nobody had bloody written were aired, they got down to proper business. Hidden away in Ron's bedroom, four members of their Golden Hexad huddled close together while Rose sat on one of the beds and pulled her knees to her chest, tightening herself into a small ball of a girl. She could not get small enough. Philo tightened reassuringly around her wrist, but it didn't help. Her heart pounded. Her throat constricted; it felt impossible to get a single word out.

"I dunno where to start," she whispered very, very quietly.

"You don't have to start anywhere," Hermione replied gently. "We can all just sit here, quietly, if you want."

Something inside Rose cracked just a bit. Hermione was being the true kind of friend, the kind that cared about you without expecting anything in return. But she didn't have the time to just sit around and dread the future anymore. Every day they crossed off Hermione's school calendar would be one day closer to not being able to hide it anymore.

"No," Rose decided firmly, "I need you all to know, I just don't know how..."

Harry leant towards her, his shoulder pressing reassuringly into hers. "It's okay, Rosie. They'll understand, and they'll support you every step of the way — just like me, all right?"

Hermione looked between them, narrow—eyed and serious, before her face went alight with understanding.

"Oh."

"Yea." Rose muttered, relieved Hermione was smart enough that she didn't have to say it. "Oh."

Glancing swiftly between them, Ron's red brows shot up, "Oh, what?"

No one bothered to answer him.

Hermione bit her lip and scooted closer, asking very, very gently, "You mean to say you're...?"

Rose nodded. She was miserable.

"How far along are you?"

Ron was still not understanding, "Far along for what?"

Harry suddenly elbowed his best mate, hard, in the ribs. Ron yelped, rubbed the sore spot, and gave him a thoroughly betrayed expression. Again, no one bothered to explain.

Rose turned her head to face Hermione, blushing cheek resting on the tops of her knees. "I'm not sure, I'm not even sure if it's true, but—,"

"Aunt Petunia found a test," Harry murmured, brow creased firmly. "Did you get a chance to...?"

Rose huffed and squirmed more than a little. This was so bloody uncomfortable.

"To... what?" Ron frowned, still very lost.

"To pee on it."

"What?!"

"Uhm." Rose tried to explain, still pink—cheeked, "It was one of those stick things from the shops, you know, and I mean, I used it, but I'm not sure if it's accurate or—,"

Unable to stand it any longer, Ron finally burst: "What the bloody hell are you lot talking about?!"

"She's pregnant, Ron!" Harry burst back.

"Maybe." Rose quietly corrected with a significant wince.

"Oh..." Ron murmured in understanding, nodding in easy acceptance before he turned pale and his eyes went round. "Oh, bloody hell."

"Yes." Hermione intoned with a deep roll of her eyes. Then, turning to her best friend, she spoke soft and gentle and reached out to touch her fingers. "So, you're not sure if it's accurate?"

All Rose could do was shake her head while tears threatened to spill from her pretty gold eyes.

Hermione's fingers tightened around hers.

"Who..." Ron squirmed, looking supremely uncomfortable. "Whose is it?"

Her gut clenched. "I... don't want to say."

"Rose Potter." Hermione cut in firmly, "You are not alone in this. Two people are always involved in getting pregnant, and if he doesn't want anything to do with this, then—,"

"You shouldn't protect him!" Harry cut in fiercely, hands fisted and cheeks flushed with indignation, "He's the arsehole in the wrong, Rosie, he shouldn't just leave you to—,"

"No." The word landed firmly like a wall between them. "I'm not protecting him, and I'm not going to say whose it is. That's all."

Harry tightened his jaw and opened his mouth to answer, but Hermione shot him a stern look that made him clack his teeth shut. Her older brother drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a long moment.

"All right. Fine. If that's what you want."

It was just the way things had to be.

"Anyway." Rose cleared her throat and harshly scrubbed at her eyes. "I can't even be sure I actually am— you know."

"Well, you could brew the Gestation Potion."

They all snapped around to stare at Ron, wide—eyed in their amazement.

"What?" Ron huffed indignantly. "My mum's had seven children, you know."

He had a fair point.

Soon, the quartet of teenagers were hovering over a cauldron that was glowing ominously. The instructions to make the Gestation Potion were relatively easy to find within the many books in the Black library which Hermione had apparently already explored. The recipe was distinctive for its ingredients for many reasons, and one major one was this:

It smelt like absolute dogshite.

While Harry stood green—faced and looked to be resisting the urge to gag, Ron had pinched his nose shut while he nasally reported, "It's... just... so... rancid."

"The smell is hardly of the greatest concern right now, Ronald," Hermione muttered back, frowning hard down at the results.

Rose paced the length of the boys' room, back and forth, back and forth, trying hard not to hyperventilate.

"Okay. Okay, it was grey, but now it's pink." Rose gnawed on her bottom lip, nervously going back to reading from the potions books, "This here says: 'If there is a change from the original colour, it indicates a positive result.'"

Rose grew quiet, lost in deep, deep thought. Ron and Harry exchanged a cautious and rather nervous glance. Hermione sat on the floor of the bedroom across from her, biting into her thumbnail, watching her friend with a wince.

"Positive!" The fifteen year old finally blurted again, "So, because it's positive, that's good news, right?"

Hermione sighed heavily, resting a hand on her forehead, "Not positive — good. Positive — bad. Positive means... you know."

Oh God. Oh God, oh God, God, God—

"It's just defective!" Rose burst before she started rambling, "We'll chuck it out. Toss it in the rubbish. Start over. We'll brew another one and do it again—,"

"Rosie, they can't all be defective. This is the fourth potion we've made!" Hermione bit her lip and scooted closer to clutch her hands, "I'm sorry, but I think... I think you're pregnant, Rosie."

Groaning miserably, Rose dropped her head so her red hair hid her face while she muttered, "I can't believe this. It was only once! Just one bloody time! What the hell am I gonna do?"

And what answered was a dreadful silence because no one knew what the hell she was gonna do.

"Okay." Harry took charge, just as her old brother always did right when she needed him to. "Okay, it's fine. Everything's going to be all right, Rosie."

"How?" She lifted her head, battling the rising tears in her eyes. "How is it going to be all right?"

Harry had no direct answer for that; he had only this: "We'll figure it out."

For the first ever, this answer was not good enough for his younger sister (younger by three hours and fourteen minutes). "Will we? Because I know I sure as hell don't want to, but I've got to tell them — Remus and Sirius, at the least."

Rose sighed as Harry tugged her to sit on the bed beside him, wrapping his arm around her and letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

Still on the floor, Hermione bit into her bottom lip and seemed to be barely resisting the urge to wring her hands. "Unfortunately, I think you might have a point. Eventually, you're going to start showing. It's not just going to go away."

"Oh, but Merlin, they're gonna flip." Ron cringed and tugged hard on his hair, "How the bloody hell are you going to tell them, Ro?"

"Simple." Rose scoffed with confidence she did not at all possess, hiding her face in her brother's bony shoulder. "I was thinking something along the lines of, 'I'm pregnant. Can you pass the potatoes?'"

𓆙

Rose wished she was brave like Harry.

But the truth was this: she wasn't supposed to be in Gryffindor.

The Sorting Hat hadn't even considered it until she demanded to be put into the red and gold House. In the alphabet, H comes before R, and so by the time she very shyly shuffled her way onto the stool, Harry had already been happily Sorted into Gryffindor. As the manky old Hat was dropped onto her red head, she stared at her brother's expectant face and knew that there was no other option for her.

She had never gone anywhere without her big brother before.

Of course she had to go into Gryffindor too, no matter what the Sorting Hat thought best.

Unfortunately, her smart Ravenclaw qualities hadn't really shown through when she decided to have sex with Draco bloody Malfoy, and now she was in a bit of a difficult situation because she couldn't scrounge up any Gryffindor courage to announce her bloody pregnancy. So. Yes. She wished she was brave like Harry.

Missus Weasley had wrangled everyone who didn't immediately leave after The Order meeting into staying for a meal of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, candied carrots, and other home—cooked deliciousness. Rose was suffering through it.

Common misconception about morning sickness: it is not just sickness in the morning. Sometimes it is constant. All the time. Just nausea, nausea, nausea, unending. This particular meal made Rose beyond queasy — the smell, the sight, all of it, but she couldn't exactly say that, could she?

So, the girl forced a smile and lied through her pretty teeth, "It's a delicious roast, Missus Weasley."

Her friend's mum was touched, donning a sweet smile of her own, "Why, thank you, Rosie dear."

"Well, if it isn't our favourite set of twins!" George crowed before Fred added, "Besides us, of course! You lot were locked in that bedroom so long, we didn't get a chance to show you our new merchandise."

The Weasley twins exchanged a mischievous glance at this. Rose could only imagine.

Still, having been so distracted with Rose's — er — situation, they'd missed the chance to listen in on The Order meeting which was a major bummer so Harry seemed determined to make up for it now.

"Had a good summer so far?" Sirius asked them as soon as everyone tucked into the meal.

"No," Harry bit out instantly, still more than a bit bitter. "It's been lousy. Dead awful."

And this for some reason made Sirius grin slightly, "Don't know what you're complaining about, Harry. Personally, I would welcome a Dementor attack right about now. A deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely."

Remus sighed wearily.

Rose shot him a fond smirk.

Alas, Sirius was very good at ignoring their disapproval by now. "You think you've had it bad, Harry, at least you two have been able to get out and about, stretch your legs, get into a few fights... Me? I've been stuck inside for a month."

Harry frowned now, "How come?"

"Because the Ministry of Magic's still after me, and Voldemort will know all about me being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. There's not much I can do for The Order of the Phoenix..." Sirius' lips twisted with his own share of bitterness when he added, "Or so Dumbledore feels."

Well then. Apparently dislike for the Headmaster of Hogwarts was going around.

It was only fair, thought Rose glumly, still poking at her veg.

"At least you've known what's been going on," Harry said bracingly, "Rose and I have not had a scrap of news all bloody summer."

"Oh, language, dear," chided Missus Weasley from the other end of the table.

"Sorry, Missus Weasley," Harry said quickly before refocusing on his godfather, "But I don't understand why the Ministry of Magic is after me — I didn't do anything to them!"

The adults around the table hesitated just briefly before Sirius shared, "Fudge is after anyone who claims that Voldemort has returned — you, Dumbledore..."

"But why?" Rose couldn't understand, glad to be able to distract herself from the food. "Why would the Minister rather stay ignorant when he could be actually doing something useful for once?"

"Because he's afraid," Remus told her quietly, a frown creasing his face deeply, "Fear makes people do terrible things, Rosie."

"If you're really desperate for news, I'll tell you this," Sirius leant closer to Harry, his face looking almost as worn as it did the first time they met him, "Voldemort is trying to build up his army again. Fourteen years ago, he had huge numbers at his command — and not just witches and wizards, but all manner of dark creatures."

Rose shot an inquiring look at Remus, her silent question obvious, and he nodded just as silently.

Voldemort was using werewolves. Oh God.

"We've heard he's recruiting heavily, so we're trying to do the same, but gathering followers isn't the only thing he's interested in. We believe..." Sirius cleared his throat slightly, darting a cautious glance at the other adults, "Voldemort may be after something."

"Sirius," Moody's deep voice warned from the opposite end of the table.

"Something he didn't have last time," Sirius continued.

"You mean... like a weapon?"

"No!" Missus Weasley threw her hands up high, sitting up straighter in her chair, "That's enough. Don't you say anymore, Sirius. Besides, you haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

At this, both Rose and Harry scowled.

Remus, who had been about to take a sip of wine, lowered his goblet slowly and warily.

Sirius' face coloured, "Harry is the one who saw Voldemort come back, he has more right than most to—,"

"Neither him nor Rose are members of The Order of the Phoenix!" Missus Weasley cried, her usually gentle face now furious, "They're only fifteen and—,"

"And they've dealt with as much as most in The Order," Sirius spat, "And more than some."

"I wanna join!" Harry jumped in fiercely, "If Voldemort's raising an army, then I want to fight!"

Again, another shiver went around the table at the sound of Tom Riddle's name.

Rose and Remus shared a miserable glance.

Out of the blue, Missus Weasley huffed and shouted from across the table, "Fred and George Weasley, you're in big trouble!"

"Us, Mum?" Fred questioned, feigning offense, while George chimed innocently, "We've not once been in trouble!"

"Yea, not once, but many times," Rose muttered with a half—smirk, earning two winks for the Weasley twins.

The tension at the table from the earlier conversation dissipated slightly, much to Rose's relief, but then...

"I caught a whiff of some mighty odd smells when I went up there." The quartet exchanged a wide—eyed look of fear before Missus Weasley went on sternly, "You'd better not be making any more of those prank potions, you two."

"Honest, Mum, it had nothing to do with us—,"

"—We're the souls of innocence!"

"Then what was it I smelt, hm?" Their mother challenged with a scolding arched brow, "More fireworks? Dungbombs?"

"Nah. If anything," George commented with a growing smile, "I thought those 'mighty odd smells' smelt almost like frog guts and onion."

Hermione kicked her foot under the table. Rose kicked back, just as panicked.

"Yea," Fred smiled just as mischievously, each of the twins loving nothing more than getting his younger brother into trouble, "Coming from Ronniekin's room!"

Ron turned bright red, eyes darting not at all subtly to Rose.

Rose — in turn — also turned red, clinking her fork against her plate, "Uhm."

Missus Weasley puffed a laugh, "Now, what would Ronnie be doing with frog guts and onion in his room?"

Meanwhile, Remus had taken to staring at the four teens, a very strange look in his warm brown eyes.

Rose shifted uncomfortably in her seat, glancing hurriedly at Harry for reassurance.

Her brother briefly met her gaze before managing a reply, "Uhm. We were just, you know, brewing something...?"

Sirius snorted, "You, Harry? Brewing?"

"Well, it was the girls' potion," Ron tried to explain it away, only making it worse.

Hermione winced, and Rose was totally incapable of letting her take the blame so she said, "Actually, it was mine."

Remus frowned curiously now. "What were you brewing in the boys' room, Rosie?"

"Frog guts and onion." Missus Weasley's face wrinkled now, growing more and more pensive. "Rosie, you were brewing with... frog guts and onion...?"

Oh God. Oh God.

Sirius, who — like most people — did not know the recipe to the Gestation Potion, very casually asked, "What's so odd about that, Molly? Probably just some last minute summer homework for old Snivellous, eh, Rosie?"

"Uhm," she said again.

"Why—?" Missus Weasley was beginning to sound a bit squeaky, "Why were you brewing with those particular ingredients, Rosie?"

Oh God. Oh God.

Puffing a forced laugh, Rose blurted, "I'm pregnant. Can you pass the potatoes?"

𓆙

No one passed the potatoes.

Sirius spat out his water, and Remus choked on his bite of candied carrot. Even bloody Mad—Eye Moody paled. The women around the table shared a gasp. The twins' pair of red heads snapped to look at her so fast, she was fairly certain they'd both have whiplash.

And Rose squeezed her eyes shut.

What happened next was a flurry of frenzied activity.

The f—cking Order was called in.

Over and over, the news had to be broken to each new member who arrived, and there was the same shocked and horrified response every time. Soon, Rose sat in the very last chair in Sirius' downstairs kitchen, hands folded in her lap, head slightly bowed, feeling fully and completely in trouble. The most trouble anyone had ever been in, in the history of time — actually. Apart from Rose and Harry (who practically screamed that he wasn't going anywhere), all the other "kids" had been hurriedly ushered out of the kitchen, despite their protestations.

Rose massaged at her throbbing temple while Harry's hand spasmed its grip on her own. Her brother was on her side, she knew it, he always was. Still, this bloody well sucked. At the opposite end of the table, Dumbledore looked very disappointed in her. It made the girl squirm, just a little. And the adults were arguing. Again.

No one was asking for her opinion. No one was asking her anything.

Until...

"Rosie." Missus Weasley choked out over the din, trying hard for a smile, "Is it... definite?"

Very slowly, completely silently, Rose nodded.

Shooting a worried glance at his sister, Harry stepped in to say, "She took one of those tests, you know, the Muggle ones? And we, erm, used some of Snape's ingredients to make one of those gestation potion things..."

Snape (because of course bloody Snape had to be here), his face turned pale with his anger, "Why, you despicable thieving little cretins—!"

Harry opened his mouth to no doubt shout something equally as vicious back, but Dumbledore raised a silencing hand.

"This is hardly the time, Severus," the Headmaster sighed with a very sad (and overwhelmed?) expression on his wrinkled face. 

Rose couldn't possibly feel any worse about this.

A heavy silence settled over the table.

"Rosie..." Sirius spoke up for the first time, just shaking his head over and over again. "This is just... so unbelievably irresponsible of you!" The girl winced, unable to ignore the stinging pang in the center of her chest. "I am so disappointed in you!"

Nope, turned out she could feel worse. Rose choked on a barely stifled sob while her eyes blurred with tears. Harry's hand tightened around hers.

"Sirius..." Remus cut in gently, shooting the other man a scolding look. "I'm sure Rosie knows more than everyone else how dire her situation is right now."

Sirius sighed and put his face in his hands.

"No matter how reckless it was," McGonagall spoke up, shooting her Lion a pointed look, "We're far past the point of no return now. Unless, Rose, you would consider taking a swifter solution to this unplanned... situation?"

"No." Rose countered sharply, shocked, wrapping her arms tight around her still flat stomach, "I'm not... I can't do that."

She hadn't even considered that, not once, but now that it was presented to her, she couldn't even contemplate it. This situation was hell, and this — baby — was an obvious accident, but she couldn't get rid of it. For her whole life, she had barely had anyone to call her own besides Harry, and while it was far sooner than she would've liked, she had always wanted a family. Most of all, she wanted someone to love and someone to love her in return.

Maybe this was completely stupid, but it was what she was going to do.

And no one was going to change her mind.

Some bloody Ravenclaw she was.

Lips pursed tightly, McGonagall bowed her grey head while Moody shook his own head beside her, grumbling in disappointment.

"Rose," from across the table, Dumbledore spoke very gently, and yet it bothered her just the same, "You must consider the fact that it is not safe for a baby at a time like this—,"

"As if people didn't think the same thing for James and Lily!" Sirius suddenly countered, raising his face and scowling hard.

"And look how that turned out," Moody grumbled.

Curiously, Snape had snapped around to glare at the ex—Auror for that.

"How dare you!" Less curiously, Sirius had shoved to his feet, looking ready to lunge across the table and strangle Mad—Eye himself. "James and Lily loved those kids, don't you dare suggest any different!"

"I'm not suggestin' it's about love," Moody growled back, "This is about practicality."

"We can consider 'practical' later." Remus said quietly but firmly, "Right now, it is Rose's choice what she wants to do."

"Perhaps Miss Potter ought to be temporarily sent away," proposed a dark—haired woman called Jones.

"My sister isn't going anywhere!" Harry practically shouted, sitting upright in his chair, free hand fisting on the table.

"Mister Potter, show some respect—!"

"No!" Harry shouted for real now, "Not when you lot here are considering sending my sister God knows where — away from me!"

"We're talking about matters of safety, Harry," spoke Shacklebolt quietly, "Wouldn't you rather your sister be kept safe — even if she's kept from you?"

Harry blanched at that.

Rose let out a tight breath and placed her shaky hands flat out on the table, "If we could just discuss—,"

"Stay out of this, Rosie!" Sirius interrupted harshly, "I can defend you just fine!"

The girl gritted her teeth. She didn't like anyone speaking for her. She never had.

"Sirius, that's not fair." Remus spoke up, immediately. He looked to the rest of the room, voice stern, "This is Rose's body, and she is old enough to speak for herself."

At this, McGonagall nodded, and Rose exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

At least some people were on her side.

Missus Weasley turned to her, speaking softly, "Rosie, don't you know how many people would love to adopt a baby?"

Surprised, Rose opened her mouth to respond but she never got a chance before Sirius snapped, "Don't pressure her, Molly!"

"I'm not pressuring her, I'm only asking!"

"Well, don't!"

Missus Weasley's nostrils flared and she huffed, "Someone has to help her consider responsible options!"

"Meaning I'm irresponsible?" Sirius countered, voice rising, eyes narrowing.

Snape snorted.

That just made Sirius angrier.

Bloody hell.

"That's not what I said," Missus Weasley managed through thinned lips, "What I mean is, Rose is still very young, very much in need of support, and the adults responsible for her would do well not to forget it!"

Sirius was already standing, but somehow he seemed to get taller the more incensed he got.

"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Rose," Remus cut in sharply. "Sirius, calm down. Now, I don't see how anyone at this table could possibly—,"

As the argument waged on and on around her, Tonks leant close to Rose who was still feeling rather nauseous, "So, Baby Mama. How far along are you?"

"Almost three months." She muttered softly, cheeks blushing baby pink.

The other young woman gave her a small and appraising smile, "You know, I think you'd make a good mum."

She said it with so much confidence, Rose almost believed her for half a second.

Dumbledore spoke louder than the rest, "Does anyone else know, Rose?"

"No." Rose straightened to attention, suddenly regretting her wish to be heard because now everyone was listening very, very closely. "No, just my—my relatives and now... all of you."

"And the... father?"

Bright red, Rose quickly looked down at her fumbling hands. "No. He—He doesn't know."

"And will you tell us his name?"

"No."

"No?"

"It's really none of your business," Rose countered firmly, sounding much more confident than she really felt. "It's his business and mine, no one else's."

Harry blew out a breath, his fringe fluttering with the strength of it. Her brother wasn't the only one who disapproved, if the looks she was receiving were of any indication. Rose swallowed hard. She knew what they were all thinking; it was clear enough on their faces.

She used to be such a Good Girl.

What went wrong?

For so very long now, Rose had been trying to follow the rules. She was trying to go where she was supposed to go when she was supposed to go there and sit like a Good Girl even though she didn't say anything because her throat was filled with nails. She had tried to follow the rules because to not follow the rules meant risking Privet Drive.

And now here she was: being the biggest rule breaker of all.

"James and Lily would be so disappointed."

𓆙

For the rest of summer, Rose was determined to hide in the girls' bedroom as much as humanly possible. She only emerged to go to the washroom and eat meals, and as soon as she finished both of these menial tasks, she was quick to make herself scarce. And all of the adults in her life seemed fine with this decision. Perhaps they were giving her space. Perhaps they didn't want to see her.

She tried hard not to feel even worse about this.

When Harry left for his trial before the Wizenmagot, Rose felt a pang of fear. The adults decided it was best that Harry go to the trial without her. After all, there was no need to serve up both Potter twins on a silver platter to the Ministry, particularly in the case of Rose's 'delicate condition'. She didn't like it. Neither did her brother, really, even if he thought it best. It was just... she didn't like to be separated from him. And his suit looked too big and he looked too small.

Rose hugged him as tight as she was able, whispering the best comfort she possessed, "If you get expelled, I'm dropping out."

"Great." Harry snorted with a roll of his eyes, "We'll share a cardboard box."

"Probably would have more room than we did in the cupboard...?"

Harry gave her nose a flick and soon departed with Mister Weasley.

In the wake of his leaving, Rose felt restless and anxious and out of sorts. She threw up three times in the washroom. She finished her summer homework ages ago, and for once she didn't feel like reading with Hermione or playing games with the Weasley's. For the first time in forever, she left her bedroom. She crept around the horrible dark place that was Sirius' family home. She crept down the creaky stairs, giving Sirius' mum's portrait a wide berth, and when she found Remus in the sitting room, reading a book by the fire, she was relieved.

Just who she was looking for.

Rose had liked Remus Lupin from day one. She didn't like arrogance or obnoxiousness (oftentimes such things intimidated her), and he was neither of these things by any means. The world had never let him be. There was a gentleness to him that Rose liked very much, one that Sirius didn't have, and perhaps this was why she gravitated towards him so quickly. Perhaps it was because her parents had chosen this man for her, as if they'd known her before she even knew herself.

With his 'furry little problem', Remus happened to have super heightened senses so he looked up as soon as Rose reached the threshold. If he was surprised at her sudden re—emergence, he managed to hide it well, though he did snap his book shut and sat up a bit straighter — giving her his full attention.

Beyond nervous, Rose bit her lip and walked to the center of the sitting room, stopping in the rug just in front of him. Finally, she announced, "Okay, so I can't stand it anymore. I've been hiding for days and you've just let me get away with that, and I don't think that's very responsible godfather—ship (or whatever the terminology is), and so now I've decided I have to step in."

Remus' lip twitched slightly. He was amused.

"I know I've made a huge mess of things, and I know everyone is right pissed at me, and I know I deserve it. I don't want you to think I've been sulking because I'm not — or maybe I am, just a little bit — but mostly, I've been embarrassed." The words were escaping her, spilling out beyond her control. "Still, it's going to be all right, I know it. I'm going to be responsible so you don't need to feel upset, okay? Upset or... worried, or think I'm going to add more to your plates because I can handle this. I will handle and— you know, you're letting me talk an awful lot, Remus. You're not even yelling at me."

Her godfather quirked a brow, "When have I ever yelled at you, Rosie?"

Rose considered this for a moment. Then she shrugged. He had a good point. Still, she felt the need to insist, "It's going to be all right."

"Yes," he gave her a small, sad smile, "It is."

They lapsed in a silence that was filled with only their breaths and their mutual staring. Then Rose's face crumpled and suddenly she was— sobbing. It was so, so embarrassing, but at least it led to Remus instantly standing and wrapping his arms tight around her.

"Hush now, it's all right." He murmured into her messy red hair, not straight like her mum's but endlessly curly. He stroked her back, his hand warm and gentle, "You were right, everything's going to be just fine."

"I'm just—," her breath hitched and she coughed out another sob, "I'm so f—cking stupid."

"Language."

"Remus," she groaned pitifully into his cardigan.

Her godfather's chest rumbled with a chuckle before he pushed her away lightly, though keeping his hands on her shoulders. "You know what we need?"

Rose wiped her nose on her sleeve. Remus tutted and produced a handkerchief.

"What?"

"A cup of tea."

Well, neither of them were particularly thirsty if evidenced by the way their teas were more stared at than actually sipped, neither of them making a single move. Really, she thought he just brewed it because that is the English thing to do when one is upset. Somehow this was comforting. The warmth of the teacup against her palms soothed something deep inside her.

After ten minutes of comforting silence, staring intermittently between the dwindling fire and their cooling tea, Rose worked up the courage to ask, "Aren't you furious?"

Remus gave her the most gentle smile. "No, Rosie, I'm not even the slightest bit angry with you. Of course I wish you had been a bit more—," here he started to blush, and honestly, she did too, "—Responsible with certain matters regarding, er, protection, and honestly, you're still a bit too young to be doing such things—,"

"Remus," she cut in, blushing but now smiling.

He smiled wider, too. "Yes. I'm sure you've realised all that by now. Still. I'm not mad."

"And Sirius?"

"You know Sirius." With a quiet huff, Remus' head bobbed to the side and he gave her a fond smile, "Of course he's not mad. He's just worried, even if he doesn't always show it the way he should."

Worry was okay, she supposed. It was better than anger.

She would take what she could get.

Her chest heaved with a whoosh of relieved breath, but not for long. Soon she had another concern she needed to discuss, and she worried her bottom lip, whispering, "Do you think my parents would've been disappointed in me?"

An instant reply: "Your parents loved you, Rose."

"Yea, I know, but I'm not asking if they loved me. Would they be disappointed, Remus?"

Remus exhaled heavily and extended his hands to take her own in his warm and calloused grip.

"Rosie. You're a young girl who made a mistake, and of course you're too young and of course it's bad timing, but no matter what anyone says, it's not the end of the world. Your parents hadn't meant to get pregnant, and believe me, when Lily found out, they both— well, they had a meltdown. But they were also so, so happy. And I want you to be happy."

A lump the size of Everest was rising in her throat. It made swallowing d—mn near impossible.

"It's just," this was a secret, a confession from deep inside, "I'm worried I won't ever be happy. I feel like I'll always be searching, taking love wherever I can find it, trying to find someone willing to..."

Remus sighed deeply, the scars across his face twisting so sadly. "I'm your godfather in all but name, Rosie, because legally they couldn't put me on the papers."

Rose nearly rolled her eyes at that.

She wondered what was going through everyone's minds after the war, after their parents' deaths — that they should end up with the Dursleys instead of someone nice and good like Remus Lupin. Were they like, poor lad, he was such a good friend of James, of course, but should he really be near a pair of toddlers? We know he's not contagious, but, you know, might not be safe, after all. What if one day he was feeling a bit peckish and ended up eating — and Merlin forbid — the Potter twins?

Ugh.

"But I think..." Remus' lips thinned, and he looked almost pained. "I think it was no excuse to stay away for so long. I'm truly sorry. I should have been there for you and your brother."

Rose winced slightly, quickly ducking her face to hide it. This had been a sore spot for her, for years, ever since she found out who Remus Lupin was to them. She'd never said it, and her and Harry certainly never discussed it, but... it had hurt. Why hadn't he shown up for them? Why hadn't he written? Why hadn't he just done something?

Still. Rose was Lily's daughter in many things, including her relentless gentleness and fiery temper, but she was James' daughter too, and she could never hold a grudge once asked for forgiveness.

Remus charged ahead, straightening up once more in determination, "And I know you'll be responsible as you kept trying to assure me, but you won't be alone. Of course you'll have Harry and your friends, but you'll also have Sirius and myself, I swear to it. You can trust me, I promise, my furry little problem won't get in the way of us this time."

Rose offered a small smile, "I've always trusted you, Remus. And I know if anyone tries to muck with us, you'll just eat them."

Remus laughed, the scars on his face somehow paling.

"Now." They both knew it was time to discuss this, but his voice was mild as he spoke, crossing one leg over the other, balancing his teacup. "The Order decided it was your decision. So, what do you want to do, Rosie?"

"I... I dunno, really. I don't know anything about babies, or children, I don't know how to do this."  She rubbed hard at her forehead with the back of her hand, "I don't know how I'll even keep it safe... I just can't let Voldemort make my— child a target too."

"We're going to help you however we can, but you have to know that simply being a Potter — being related to this war at all — means all of us are targets."

"I know..." She nodded down at her lap, at her still flat belly. "So what can I do?"

"You want to keep the baby?"

"I... I think so."

Remus nodded firmly, decidedly. "Then, you'll continue your education — Sirius and I won't let that suffer — and keep a low profile for now. Madam Pomfrey will see you for check—ups, you'll write to us to say how you're doing, and you'll stay on top of your classes. When you can no longer keep the child a secret, everyone will have a bit of a shock and then they'll find something else that's none of their business to be shocked about. We'll deal with it. The staff will figure out how to make it work. Hogwarts may not be the same as it once was, but... Dumbledore is there. He can keep you all safe."

"Okay." She nodded; it wasn't much of a plan, but at least it was one. She felt the need to ask just once more, for confirmation. "It's going to be all right?"

Remus smiled at her, "It's going to be all right."

She had to believe him.

ANNIE SPEAKS

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ahhhh it was sooooo nice to write parental sirius and remus :) remus really is a major dad in this story, and i love that for us. plus, rose needs a father figure (or two) with james gone :( also, if anyone is mad at sirius for his reaction, try not to be toooo much; this is obviously not a great situation happening at a really bad time. he's understandably stressed, he just needs to better express it. don't worry, he'll learn eventually, lol.

also, have you noticed everyone keeps reassuring rose that it's going to be all right and she's like, sure, yea, of course, but it's totally not going to be all right at all? sigh... i love irony. next chapter we arrive at hogwarts, and we finally get to see the man of the hour... i wonder how draco is going to respond to all of this?? stay tuned to find out xx

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NEXT TIME IN WICKED GAME!

"B—stard." Harry seethed, fists tightening at his sides. "I knew he'd be just like this, just abandoning you alone to shift for yourself and the baby—,"

"No, I mean, he said nothing because I haven't told him!"

Her words echoed far too loudly in the bathroom. It was embarrassing.

"Oh." Hermione blinked. "But— why not, Rosie?"

"Well." Rose said again, twisting her fingers through her tangled hair as she shrugged a bit helplessly, "It's not exactly something easy to tell a bloke, is it?"