Aunt Rose

59.

Harry often forgot that. While he'd lost his parents and viewed Rose as his mother, she lost a sister. She lost a sister, a brother-in-law, her best friends, her wife, and her parents before the war even started. She'd always been a rock for him, someone who took care of him. Her strength sometimes made him forget just how much she'd lost and sacrificed to vanquish Voldemort.

When they were done there and his friends were over, the last thing Rose prepared for Harry's birthday was the food. Muggle food, Wizarding food, a cake made the muggle way, at Harry's request, and brownies at Ron's request because he'd eaten them before. It only occurred to Rose, as she was finishing everything while Harry and the Weasleys were outside playing a two versus two quidditch game, that she really was becoming her mother. Making brownies for the children and setting up birthday parties. Rose never really thought about kids with Marlene, she wanted them with her. But after she died it wasn't something Rose ever considered. She considered being a hermit with Sirius for the rest of her life.

In fact, Rose had never even considered—or had the time—to engage in any other romantic relationship. She'd been solely focused on Harry the last 12 years and Rose wouldn't risk bringing someone into the house that could harm him. Besides, Rose wasn't going to do the whole muggle thing of having to explain everything about magic to them. It was just easier to be alone with Harry and not take any risks with people she didn't trust. It was a vulnerability she wasn't ready to exhibit.

Would Marlene want her to love again? Well, she would joke no. Rose knew that. But she really didn't know or want to think about the true answer to that question. She wouldn't think back to a hushed conversation they had in their bed after they were married.

It wormed its way into her head anyway. Such a stupid fucking time for it, icing a cake for Harry's birthday. But like she'd been told, grief wasn't a linear journey.

"If one of us dies—"

"Marlene, stop. We're not going to die. I'm never getting rid of you, no matter how hard I try. I thought we already established this?" Rose was good at deflecting. She deflected that conversation many times, she'd already seen so much death. Rose didn't want to talk about them dying either.

"Rose, I'm being serious. Please." Marlene wasn't serious often. Not like that. And that was how Rose knew to stop playing, stop truly deflecting, and give her wife her full attention. Rose turned in the bed to look at Marlene and took her hand.

"If one of us dies," Marlene repeated, quieter than the first time. "Promise me we'll move on. Or find love again. Or even just find someone to hook up with once in a while. We aren't doing all of this fighting just to be sad and miserable for the rest of our lives." The conversation was heavy. Rose felt it in her chest, the weight of discussing their possible imminent deaths. She didn't want it to stay that way.

"Move on? I don't think I could ever do that. There's no one that annoys me as much as you do and that's, unfortunately, a requirement," Rose said, smiling at the huff of a laugh she was able to pull from Marlene. "I give my blessing for you to move on however quickly you want to, though." She did receive a smack to her arm, however.

"Seriously, Rose. If one of us dies, I don't want us to be alone forever. There's too much of our life left to live for that. Promise me," Marlene said, holding out her pinky to Rose. A childish promise, she knew, but extremely important to her. Anything important to Marlene was important to Rose. Besides, she did want that for Marlene. If she died, she would want her wife to be able to be happy and find love again. After an appropriate time spent grieving, of course.