Now That Your Rose Is In Bloom

Chapter 180

AN: Thank you for all the support! It is deeply appreciated!

"Violet?" Ginevra asked.

Violet stepped into the hallway, her fists curled and her frown deep. Still, there were noticeable bags under her eyes. Her usual straight black hair was tussled, as if she'd forgotten to brush it that morning.

"Sweetie, what happened?" Ginevra asked.

"Last night, Molly barged into Mum's hospital room with Bill and Charlie. They were having an amnesiac episode and believed he was a fugitive."

"Mum was there?"

"Yes!"

"But, Mum isn't an amnesiac. Why was she in there with them?"

"I don't know. All I know is they attacked Dad," Violet's eyes watered. "Mum defended him despite the doctor's warnings."

"Hermione is deathly ill though!" Ginevra gasped. "She isn't supposed to overexert herself!"

"She didn't care! All she wanted to do was protect Dad," Violet sniffed. "Mum almost died from magical overload."

"Is she awake now?"

"Yes, she is."

"How is she?"

"She's doing well."

"She is?"

"Yes."

"Is she doing well all things considered, or doing well by anyone's standards?"

Violet cracked a small smile. "She is doing well by anyone's standards. You wouldn't know she had experienced any trauma last night."

"Oh thank Merlin," Ginevra exhaled. "Where is she?"

"Right now she's celebrating Victor's birthday in her hospital room."

Ginevra gulped. "Isn't she going to become exhausted?"

"Mum isn't acting fatigued in the slightest."

"Of course she isn't."

"Honestly I'm just thankful she's alive."

"As am I."

"Now that she's recovering we need to focus on bringing Molly to justice."

"Don't worry," the healer cut in. "Bill, Charlie, and Molly are currently in custody."

"They are?" Violet asked.

"Yes. They are being processed as we speak."

"That's very good to know."

"Still, the aurors will want to speak to your mother about what happened at some point."

"When?"

"I don't know, but I would imagine they want her to be medically cleared before they take her statement, or at the very least we would prefer they wait."

"If at all possible I'd like her to get a few moments peace. Right now all we want to do is celebrate Victor's birthday without worrying about illnesses or interrogations."

"I would imagine," Ginevra's lips curled up. There was a spark in her eyes that was all too familiar to Violet. Something was about to happen which would make everyone question the decision to put her aunt in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin…

"Anyway Mrs. Malfoy we'll prepare a room for your father," the healer concluded.

"Thank you," Ginevra muttered, the spark only growing brighter. "I deeply appreciate it."

The healer strolled down the hallway, but Ginevra paid him no heed.

"I'm sorry about your dad, Aunt Ginny," Violet began.

"No, you're fine," Ginevra focused on the teenager, concern replacing her earlier thought. "I'm far more worried about your mother at this point."

"Like I said, she's conscious and setting up her hospital room to be a celebration of Victor's life."

"Are you sure she isn't overexerting herself?"

"If she is then she'll never admit it."

Ginevra grinned. "That's your mother, ever the planner and overachiever."

"That it is," Violet relaxed.

"I was going to make a floo call," Ginevra began, "But I think it can wait. I'd much rather see your mum right now."

"I'm sure she'd love to see you and Uncle Draco, assuming you two aren't too busy with the upcoming election."

"For this," Ginevra put her hand on Violet's back. "Never."

"Good."

Ginevra extended her arms. Violet embraced her and squeaked, "I was so scared I'd lose her."

"I know," Ginevra wrapped her arms around the girl. "I know."

For what seemed to be the thousandth time that day, Violet allowed herself to cry.

Rose stared at the man icing the cake, hoping he spelled Victor's name correctly. Merlin knows how her parents would react if the c was replaced with a k…

When she was seven, Rose had given her brother a card which spelled Victor's name with a "k". She never understood why her mother blushed and her father scowled when they read it. Oh if only she had known about the salacious rumors surrounding her mother and her alleged string of lovers before she married her father…

The image of her mother sitting upright in the hospital bed flooded her mind. Her smile was genuine without a hint of fatigue in her eyes. How could Mum cheat death so much yet still appear unscathed?

Rose scratched her chin. Truth be told, she still had not allowed herself to feel anything regarding her mother's recent injury. At the moment she supposed there was nothing left to feel other than relief. Her father was alive, her mother was as well as could be expected, and her siblings were none the worse for the wear. Things could have turned out much worse.

"Your brother's name is spelled with a c, correct?" the ice asked.

"Indeed it is," Rose replied.

"I thought so," he replied before he continued icing. "I just wanted to make sure. You'd be surprised how many people spell Victor with a k."

Rose muttered, "I'm familiar with a few of them."

"Wasn't there that Krum guy who was famous a few years ago for some type of sport?"

"Yes, he was a Viktor."

The icer didn't look up, though he did smirk. "I never could understand what made Quidditch so popular. Seems like nothing more than an excuse to fly around on brooms and almost break their necks."

"I share your sentiments," Rose replied before her mind wandered. What possessed Mum to date an international Quidditch star? I know you must kiss a few toads before you reach a prince, but some amphibians are slimier than others. Then again, Viktor Krum is not Ron Weasley.

A shudder raced down Rose's spine. It does not matter that I was created from their tryst. The thought of them together is still revolting. I am only grateful she returned to her senses and married Dad.

"When is your brother's birthday anyway?"

"Today."

He glanced up before cocking his head. "Really?"

"Yes, it is short notice, but I do appreciate you icing the cake for me."

"I'm more than happy to Ms…"

"Snape. My name is Rose Snape."

His eyes flickered in recognition. "You're the potions professor whose mother lied about who her father was."

"Indeed I am," Rose's eyes dared him to say more.

"Well, uh, I'm sorry about the press a few months ago. They shouldn't have aired your dirty laundry like that."

"No, they should not have."

He returned to the task at hand. Rose watched the icing drop from his decorator. Then her mind wandered again.

Had she not spoken to the healer before leaving, she would not have believed that her mother only suffered spleen damage from her magical overload. Then again, Mum was nothing if not a survivor. If Mum could survive Bellatrix and the Death Eaters then perhaps she could survive cancer as well, assuming a cure could be found.

The icing continued to form the letters. It was as if not effort was being put into forming them. If only it was that easy to remove dark magic from a body! Then again, when magic is literally sizzling from a body it is hard to repress. It was amazing anyone survived magic overload.

Ding.

Rose returned her attention to the icer.

He set down the decorator. "Just give me one second. I have to take a cake out of the oven."

"I see."

He sighed. "Normally Mario would do it, but he took the day off because he had a cold."

"That is fine," Rose replied. "I hope he recovers soon."

"So do I."

Her eyes followed the icer towards the oven. He put on oven mitts before taking out the cake.

Magical overload was caused by magic emanating from one's body. In order to be cured, the magic needed to be released, or at least evened out.

A cake needed to be heated a certain way. If it was not heated properly then it would not have the right consistency. The heat was vital to the success of the recipe.

The temperature needed to be even throughout the cake. It needed to be a consistent temperature, just like magic needed to be a certain level in order for a body to function properly.

The heat.

Rose's eyes grew.

The heat!

The image of the jade necklace Violet received for Christmas flashed in her mind.

"The heat!"

The icer glanced back at her.

"Sorry," Rose cleared her throat. "I just realized that I may have left my fireplace on."

"Do you need to shut it off?"

"No, I am fine," Rose's face lit up. "Indeed, I think I am more fine than I have been in ages."

The icer set the cake onto the shelf and shrugged.

Rose pictured a boiling cauldron above an orange flame. A single phoenix feather drifted into the fire.

Her parents could be saved yet!