Fandom: Harry Potter
Character(s): Rose and Hugo Weasley
Prompt: Unrestrained imaginations, siblings who cannot bear to be
parted, any imaginary worlds they co-create, and how Rose finally had
to go to school.
Word Count: 1122
Author's Notes: Title shamelessly stolen from the movie, though that’s about the only similarity. This is also my first attempt at writing next generation Harry Potter characters, so I hope I’ve done an okay job!
Summary: With everyone else, she feels an almost unhealthy desire to prove herself. But with Hugo, it will always be different.
When Rose hears that she is going to have a brother, she is initially jealous.
She knows her parents love her, but they are busy with other things too and travel occasionally, and she wonders how a brother will affect how much time they have for her. She knows jealousy is bad, that she probably has nothing to worry about, but she can’t stop thinking about it.
Though she is only two, she thinks a good deal—probably more than what is natural for someone her age—but she cannot help it.
What if they like him more?
What if she doesn’t like him?
There are too many questions without answers, and she already hates that.
They could not be more different.
While she hides in books—she already knows how to read—he wraps himself in his imagination, uses it to see things only he can. He tries to include her, but his efforts only frustrate her.
“Look!” Hugo cries suddenly.
They are lying down in their backyard, enjoying the first sunny day after a period of relentless rain.
Following his eager finger to the sky, she frowns when she doesn’t see the source of his excitement. “It’s just a cloud.”
But Hugo is shaking his head. “No, it’s a horse! See?”
She squints, oddly envious in his ability to see something his imagination has created and wishes she could do the same. Yet in spite of her efforts, the cloud stubbornly remains a fluffy mass of white.
For the first time, she wishes her intellect weren’t already so much a part of her.
Hugo is patient with her, and always lets her play with him.
Though it is still a struggle to believe in something that is not there—she blames her mother’s brains for this—it becomes easier with time, and soon she is almost convinced that his experiences are her own.
“I hear you have been creating many problems in this land, Hugo son of Ronald.”
“No more than you, Queen Rose.”
“You are either brave or very foolish to utter such treasonous words in my presence.”
“I pledge allegiance to no one, so I see nothing treasonous about it.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Rose, Hugo, time for dinner!”
Their mother’s call brings her sharply back to reality, and she blinks, momentarily disoriented. This is the first time she has needed to remind herself of where she is.
Hugo gives her a knowing smile.
They call it Neverland, and Rose has come to love it as she never thought she would.
It is difficult growing up with famous parents, and though they have done everything they can to shield and protect them, it is virtually impossible to have much of a private life.
This is their escape.
And Rose has come to depend on it.
“It pains me to come here, but my people are suffering, plagued by famine, and the frequency of bandit attacks is increasing. Loath as I am to admit it, we need your help.”
The Queen knows she could refuse him, that she could pick this moment to punish him for his grievances. But then innocent people would suffer the consequences, and she cannot have that on her conscience. “I am prepared to give you the aid you seek, but know that I do so for your people, not for you. In return, I ask that you remember what I’ve done if I ever need a favor from you.”
He bows, and as far as she can tell, it is sincere. “I am grateful—and your assistance will not be forgotten.”
And it isn’t.
When she gets her Hogwarts letter, Rose is excited though filled with a bunch of other emotions she has a hard time identifying. Going to school means she is too old for playing, but she has no idea how to tell this to Hugo without hurting his feelings.
So she becomes distant, says she needs to start reading, even though she’s already read Hogwarts, a History three times and almost has it memorized. She doesn’t want professors to think she expects to do well and get good grades because of who her parents are.
But she can tell Hugo doesn’t buy it, and he finally confronts her. “Okay, Rose. Something’s up. And don’t try to say it’s nothing, because I’m not leaving until you tell me.”
She knows he means it, because Hugo can be persistent when he wants something. Sighing, she says, “I’m sorry, Hugo. It’s just that school’s starting soon, and I have a lot to do to get ready…”
Rolling his eyes, Hugo says, “If you’re not ready for school, there’s no way anyone else is going to be. I know that’s not it. You don’t play anymore.”
“I’m too old—”
Hugo bursts out laughing.
She glares. “What?”
“For someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb sometimes. You’re never too old to play.”
Though she’s annoyed he’s called her bluff—he’s far more perceptive than he lets on—she knows, deep down, that he is right.
As the first day of school gets closer and closer, Rose gets more anxious.
It’s not that she’s worried about meeting new people, because she’s excited to be making some new friends. But a part of her is slightly afraid that people are only going to want to get to know her because she’s the daughter of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, that they’ll just want to be seen with her. Or they’ll hate her, because people can be irrational like that.
She loves her parents, but sometimes she can’t help but wonder what things would’ve been like if she’d been born into a normal family, and she knows it will be hard to deal with the fame of her family name in school.
And she won’t be able to escape to Neverland.
Hugo finds her brooding in the backyard one afternoon, a few days before she leaves. “You can always write, you know. I mean—I know it won’t be the same, but it’d be something, at least.”
She smiles, though the edges are tainted with sadness. “I’m going to miss you. You bring out things in me no one else can.”
“It’s not like you’re never going to see me again,” Hugo says, giving her a crooked grin. “But you’re not so bad yourself. Who knows—I might even have Hogwarts, a History memorized by the time you come home.”
She laughs, and they sit in comfortable silence, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders.
With everyone else, she feels an almost unhealthy desire to prove herself.
But with Hugo, it will always be different.