Enclosed

Chapter Ten: Forgotten

Trying to convince a child to go to sleep was a difficult task. Rose had faced N.E.W.T exams, trials for Death Eaters, coaxing her Father out of his hiding spot after spotting a spider, and many other trials that left her wanting to pull out her hair. None of those tasks matched up to the challenge of trying to tell a kid it was better to sleep than to stay up late at night. 

Whenever Victoire and Teddy needed a night out, Rose was usually their first call to babysit. Getting two-year-old Remus Jr. (who was fondly referred to as Jr.) to sleep was like wrangling her wild curls into a professional bun. The one trick that coaxed Jr. into bed was the enticing promise of stories. With each tale of mountain trolls and rampaging bowtruckles, Jr. would snuggle soundly into his bed. His little eyelids fluttered shut and by the end of the story he was passed out. 

The innocent stories were a great manipulation tool to get Jr. to bed. It calmed him down and offered him the promise of peace. Too bad that promise was easily broken.

Rose learned quickly that peace could not be found at night. The dark. The silence. The calm. All great ingredients for peace when separate. When added together they were the perfect recipe for nightmares. 

When Al managed to calm her down, he told her fond memories of treasured times with Hugo. An attempt to get her to focus on the good times and forget the bad ones currently going on. The stories didn't help much and Rose feigned sleep to get Al to disappear from the fire. 

She needed to be alone. 

For the first time since her arrival, Rose lay in her bedroom. The 'peace' of the night was a myth. Her overactive imagination conjured up images of Hugo being tortured. Blood trickling down his face. Deafening screams echoed his pain. Pleas begging to stop the torture. Worst of all laughter. 

Laughter from Pious' followers as they stole her brother's magic. Laughter as they joked about capturing a Granger-Weasley. Laughter as they stole away a part of her brother. Cruel, cruel laughter.

Rose groaned and rolled over, snuggling further into the blankets. She'd been in bed for what, an hour? Two? Whatever it was there was no way she was getting any sleep.

She didn't deserve sleep. It was her fault after all. She should have been there to protect Hugo. She should be there now to comfort him. No doubt he was in the hospital recovering from his injuries. Her parents were probably there. The rest of her family too. Everyone but her. 

She desperately wanted to be at his side. Hugo always protected her and she'd failed to return the favor. She couldn't even sit at his bedside and offer to tell him jokes to cheer him up. Not that she was great with jokes. He was always the funnier sibling. Still, she should have been there.

After Malfoy revealed that Hugo was the latest extraction victim she'd become hysterical. Al's failed attempts at stories did nothing. Malfoy eventually got Rose upstairs to bed and sat with her as she cried. He rubbed soothing circles on her back and provided a handkerchief to wipe her tears. 

When she'd stopped crying, he insisted that she needed rest. He refused to leave until Rose pretended to be asleep once again. As soon as he was gone, she'd been plagued with the nightmares of Hugo. They ran on repeat. Never stopping. Always going. 

She couldn't stand to close her eyes for another minute. Silently to not wake up Malfoy in the next room, Rose crept out to the hall and down to the office. The office was just as she'd left it. In other words, it was a chaotic mess. 

A draft chilled the room, causing goosebumps to pop up on her arms. She accioed down her favorite pair of pink wool socks and a blanket. Wrapping herself in the garments, Rose welcomed the warmth.