Chapter Text
The hospital room was quiet, the stillness broken only by Rosie’s rhythmic coughs. The dim lighting softened the room’s harsh edges, creating an almost serene atmosphere.
She hated it. How dull it was. She also hated how she couldn’t do anything but lie in bed, far from the vibrant person she once was.
She was thankful for her two closest friends, though. Mia and Kate sat with her, their presence a quiet comfort in what they knew would be their final night together.
When she was 19 years old, she was diagnosed with blood cancer.
It changed her.
She had once been known by her friends for her striking dark red hair, but chemotherapy had changed that, leaving behind only pale, thinning strands.
She hated that too.
The stem cell transplant that had brought hope also brought complications, and when the cancer returned, her weakened body couldn’t endure further treatment.
Rosie’s journey had been one of constant struggle. Scars from medical procedures marked her skin, and the side effects of treatment had taken a heavy toll. Even simple movements brought pain, despite the morphine that now flowed continuously through her chest port.
She missed running, feeling the wind in her hair and the world at her feet. Now, her lungs were weak, suffocated by relentless fluids, and her body no longer carried her dreams. The life she had envisioned since her preteen years, one filled with purpose and companionship, felt distant, replaced by a quiet existence punctuated by moments of loneliness.
There was one benefit, she supposed. She would be with her parents soon.
Kate sat at Rosie’s bedside in the dimly lit room, reading aloud the final chapter of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, her voice soft but steady. It was a story that had brought them joy for years, now offering a bittersweet distraction. Mia, ever attentive, wiped the blood from Rosie’s lips after each cough, her eyes betraying her silent grief. The friends exchanged a look that spoke volumes: this was goodbye.
Rosie couldn’t help but reflect on the year that had passed since her diagnosis. A year filled with treatments that prolonged her life but not her quality of life. She had endured rashes, painful coughing fits, constant sores and bumps in her mouth, and the loss of simple pleasures like eating without pain. But most of all, the endless and unbearable exhaustion.
She was so tired.
Rosie yearned to turn back the hands of time to that pivotal moment when her doctor uttered those life-altering words, wishing she had the courage to refuse the treatments if she knew what her future would be like.
As the night deepened, Rosie’s coughs worsened, each one more laboured than the last, and she suddenly gasped as pain racked through her.
Kate paused her reading, her voice trembling with emotion, and tears welled in her eyes. Mia sniffled and leaned over to wipe Rosie’s blood-stained lips gently. Kate, her voice quivering, finally concluded the story: “The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.”
Rosie thought of her dreams, and she was filled with sudden bitterness. Her aspirations in healthcare and the life she had imagined for herself. She had once envisioned a future filled with purpose, dedicating her days to helping others, healing wounds, and offering comfort. She had pictured herself walking across a stage in a cap and gown, a degree in hand, and her parents cheering in the audience.
The life she never got.
She had planned for late nights spent studying, fueled by coffee and determination, and early mornings in bustling hospital wards, learning from mentors who shared her passion. She had imagined friendships forged through shared struggles and triumphs, laughter echoing in break rooms, and a career where her work made a difference.
But that future had slipped through her fingers, stolen by the relentless progression of her illness. The dreams she had clung to so tightly now felt like distant memories, as though they belonged to someone else. Rosie let out a quiet sigh, mourning not just the life she had, but the one she never had the chance to live.
An overwhelming mix of anxiety and sorrow suddenly overcame her. She didn’t want to die. There was so much she hadn’t done yet, so much life to live. She had never loved someone before. And most of all, she was afraid. What happens when someone dies? Would there be an endless void of darkness, like an eternal sleep? Or something more?
She shivered as chills ran through her as she thought of all the ‘what ifs,’ but she was out of time.
Rosie let out one last wheezing cough, her chest rattling with the effort as her lungs seized. A wave of overwhelming exhaustion swept over her, pulling her into stillness. Her eyelids grew heavy, and as they closed, her expression softened, her face slackening into an unexpected calm. She felt a strange warmth spreading through her body, replacing the pain that had been her constant companion. It wasn’t the bone-deep cold she had anticipated, but she very much preferred this. Her breath slowed and her thoughts quieted. For the first time in so long, there was peace.
As her friends’ sobs faded into silence, Rosie drifted into the darkness, feeling weightless and free.
In this soothing void, there was no pain.
If this were death with nothing but darkness, Rosie would accept it gladly. There was no horrible disease and pain here, and it was here she could sleep for an eternity.
Finally, all was well.
She didn’t know how long it was before she became aware of something unusual, like a soft glow calling out to her. It could’ve been seconds or years for all she knew.
But there was a light, growing stronger, its warmth brushing against her closed eyelids. Slowly, her senses began to awaken. She felt something firm beneath her, a reassuring presence that seemed to welcome her. Was this the ground? Her fingers curled around the texture beneath her. It was different, soft and pliable, almost like grass swaying in a breeze. Tentatively, she also pressed her feet into the ground, her toes wiggling freely into it, feeling dirt as well.
Curious, Rosie stretched her arms outward, exploring the sensation. Her hands brushed against something light and draped, like fabric resting on her skin. The strands spilled over her fingers, soft and smooth, unlike anything she had felt in years. It also brushed against her cheeks. Slowly, she ran her fingers through them, marvelling at their silkiness.
She inhaled deeply, the clean air filling her lungs. The fresh scent of earth and grass surrounded her, grounding her in the moment. For the first time in years, her breathing felt natural, free from the crackling of fluids or heaviness that once plagued her.
The world around her was a cacophony of sensations, a symphony of touch, smell, and breath. But she still hesitated to open her eyes, afraid that seeing might end this unexpected peace.
Summoning her courage, Rosie finally relented and opened her eyes, only to squeeze them shut instantly as the light overwhelmed her.
‘The fuck?’
The brightness was blinding, leaving her seeing spots behind her eyelids. She blinked rapidly, her eyes watering in protest, and instinctively raised a hand to shield her face from the light. Rubbing her eyes with her other hand, she tried to ease the sting, squinting against the glare as her vision slowly adjusted to the brilliance around her.
When she finally opened them, she had to blink several times in confusion. Above her stretched a vast expanse of bright blue sky with the sun shining brilliantly overhead. There were no hospital walls or fluorescent lights. Just the endless sky.
She blinked rapidly and attempted to open them wider, but it was difficult as her eyes continued to water.
Her gaze dropped to the strands that had brushed her skin earlier. She froze as she realized what they were: her hair. It tumbled over her shoulders, dark red and full, just as it had been before her treatments. Excitement filled her, and tears welled in her eyes as she ran her fingers through it, whispering, “I have my hair back.”
For a moment, Rosie simply sat there, overwhelmed. Everything felt surreal. The lack of pain, the vibrancy of her surroundings, and now, the return of something she had thought lost forever.
Was this Heaven?
The questions swirled in her mind, and she began to look around, searching for answers. Rosie’s surroundings were a surreal and idyllic landscape, bathed in the golden glow of the unobstructed sun with endless rolling hills of swaying grass. The absence of trees and the boundless expanse of the sun-soaked landscape seemed to stretch on forever, unfettered by the presence of any clouds.
With a gentle push from her hands, she slowly rose to her feet, half-expecting some stiffness or soreness. But as she stood and moved, her body responded effortlessly. There was no pain. It was almost as if she was unburdened by the health issues that had plagued her at 20 years old.
Her gaze turned inward towards her appearance, trying to determine if any other changes could explain her lack of health issues.
She was wearing overalls, a garment she hadn’t worn since her earliest years. The fabric felt familiar, yet foreign. Rosie’s eyes widened in amazement as she glanced downward at her feet. At the end of her legs were the tiniest of toes she didn’t remember having. She looked at her hands and saw how small it was too.
‘What in the flying piggies of shits?’
In this surreal moment, Rosie couldn’t help but question her age. How had she regressed to this state of youth? And where was she? Rosie wasn’t sure if she was in Heaven, but it was starting to look like it. How else would she be pain-free and as youthful as she was?
Gingerly, she tested her newfound agility by walking. Would her lungs start to affect her as she walked, and would she have to spit up mucus like she had too many times? After several minutes, there was still nothing. Her lungs remained clear; her breath steady. She laughed, the sound unrestrained and joyful, and began to jog, gradually picking up the pace.
Soon, Rosie was running at full speed, her tiny feet barely grazing the ground, and she felt like she was flying across the hills. Her hair flowed behind her, and the hills stretched endlessly before her. It felt as if she were lighter, unburdened, free. She laughed, the sound transforming into gleeful giggles as she revelled in this renewed vitality.
She felt like she might burst from sheer excitement, her grin so wide it almost hurt her cheeks.
It dawned on Rosie that she indeed must be in a place that transcended earthly constraints, a realm of pure happiness and boundless freedom. Here, the worries of adulthood had been shed, and she ran with the exuberance of a child, her laughter ringing out in the unbroken, golden expanse of her heavenly surroundings.
She really was in Heaven, and she loved it.
~★~
The notion of time and distance became inconsequential here, in her Paradise. When she had first awoke, the sun was at the highest peak in the sky, and now it was lower on the horizon, but it still lit up the land around, shining brilliantly on her. She loved the warmth it offered and how it made her hair more radiant.
Then, a new sensation caught her as her stomach growled and her throat was dry: hunger and thirst.
It was a peculiar sensation to experience in the afterlife. Nonetheless, Rosie pressed on, savouring the physicality of her run – the way her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, the delightful burn in her leg muscles, and the surging rush of adrenaline, all while her lungs remained effortlessly unburdened.
As she crested a hill, she spotted a cluster of trees ahead, and delight filled her as she saw their branches were heavy with apples. Almost as if Heaven heard her hunger and granted her wishes, and she looked at the apples excitedly. Would she be able to taste them?
She approached one of the trees, the fruit glistening in the light. With ease, she climbed its branches, something she hadn’t done since she was a child. The worry of falling off the branches didn’t even cross her mind. After all, if she were in Paradise, nothing could hurt her there.
Rosie extended her hand for one of the apples, plucking it from its bough and brought the fruit to her lips, but hesitated for a moment. The apple wasn’t fully ripe yet, and she could smell a hint of tartness in its aroma. Nevertheless, Rosie took a bite, sinking her teeth into the fruit. The initial burst of sourness sent a tingling shiver through her, but it was, without a doubt, the most delicious apple she had ever tasted. She chewed with delight, savouring the flavours.
But there was more to this idyllic scene. Nestled nearby from the tree Rosie was perched on, she saw a small, glistening lake, its mirror-like surface reflecting the cerulean sky above.
Most astonishing, a towering structure loomed before her, a conglomeration of small houses stacked one upon the other, reaching a height that appeared as though a gentle breeze could topple it.
Rosie stopped chewing the piece of apple and just stared at the property, her mouth dropping open, and her eyebrows furrowed as confusion filled her.
Everything about this place felt eerily familiar, yet Rosie couldn’t quite place why. Was this a memory from her earthly life or perhaps a creation of her imagination in the afterlife? The sense of déjà vu enveloped her, casting a veil of intrigue over the picturesque landscape she now found herself in.
As Rosie’s astonishment and curiosity deepened, a faint chorus of laughter reached her ears, drawing her attention away from the tall building, and her head whipped around to face the source of the mirth in shock. Her gaze landed upon a sight that further defied her understanding of this place.
By the lakeshore, two young boys, identical twins by all appearances, were crouched by the water’s edge with something in their hands, dipping it beneath the clear surface. Their mischievous laughter echoed through the serene corner of Rosie’s Heaven.
The presence of these twins, so out of place in her personal Paradise, sent a shiver of unease through her. Questions bubbled up within her mind, like the persistent hunger and thirst that still lingered and the house whose familiarity continued to tug at her memory. What had brought these boys to her Heaven? It was an unexpected intrusion, and Rosie couldn’t help but feel anxious and nervous.
With a resolution born of curiosity and a growing sense of unease, Rosie dropped the apple onto the ground and slowly descended from the tree, moving stealthily closer to the lake and positioning behind a nearby tree. From her hidden vantage point, she watched as the twins stood and glanced back toward the strange house in the short distance, their eyes gleaming with the anticipation of some impending adventure.
As the twins moved closer to the towering house, still clutching what Rosie could now see were their water balloons, they unwittingly drew nearer to Rosie’s position. Then, she could see their faces up close, illuminated by this ethereal realm’s soft, golden setting sunlight. Freckles adorned their face, and they had red-tinted hair, much like hers, but their locks were a more vivid shade of orange, while Rosie’s was closer to auburn. And their light honey-coloured brown eyes contrasted starkly with Rosie’s deep green.
A profound sense of wonder and disconcerting uncertainty washed over her as she tried to make sense of this enigmatic encounter. She was pretty sure they weren’t her ancestors or something like that. So, who were they? And what were they doing here?
As the twins walked past the tree where Rosie hid behind, she moved stealthily to be directly behind them. With a firm resolve, she finally broke the silence, her voice uncertain, “Who are you?”
Startled by Rosie’s sudden presence and inquiry, the twins jumped, and their heads whipped to face Rosie; their identical expressions of surprise mirrored perfectly. In their startled state, they accidentally dropped the water balloons they clutched, causing them to burst on the ground and splashing them with water.
Rosie studied the twins closely, finding that they wore identical, well-worn striped tee shirts and equally well-worn pants, giving them an appearance that suggested shared experiences and a bond beyond mere siblings. Much like the ones on their faces, identical freckles adorned their bare arms, further emphasizing their uncanny resemblance.
One of the twins responded with bemused expressions, “Who are we?”
The other twin continued, “More like, who are you?”
“I asked first,” Rosie retorted, narrowing her eyes at the two inquisitive boys. After all, they were in her Heaven, and she wanted to know why.
The twins shared a momentary glance and then, in a synchronized manner, spoke by finishing each other’s sentences.
The right one began, “Well, seeing as this is,” the left one continued, “Our home, and you’re here,” returning to the right twin, “We reserve the right to,” the left twin concluded, “Ask you first.”
Rosie’s gaze darted between the twins, the seamless way they finished each other’s words adding a layer of confusion that took a moment to untangle their sentences. A sense of bewilderment clouded her expression, and she furrowed her eyebrows. “But... this is my Heaven.”
The revelation that her version of Paradise could be taken over was a concept that defied the very essence of Heaven itself.
Right?
She wasn’t sure now.
The twins exchanged perplexed glances again, clearly mystified by Rosie’s words. “This... isn’t Heaven. Is that where you’re from? Is that the name of a town?”
The right twin continued, “You’re just outside of Ottery St. Catchpole.
The left twin finished, “At the Burrow.”
Rosie’s anxiety intensified with each revelation. ’Ottery St. Catchpole? The Burrow?’ These names struck a chord that sent her heart racing. She stared at the twins, their faces so uncannily similar to the characters she had read about and watched, and her mouth went dry. Her gaze shifted to the stacked home behind them, its familiar, haphazard structure only deepening her growing sense of dread.
With trembling breaths, Rosie finally mustered the courage to ask the question that weighed heavily on her mind, “You... you wouldn’t happen to be the Weasleys... are you?”
Their answer would determine whether her cherished memories had somehow merged with her reality or if she had ventured into an entirely different world.
“Yes, we are!” Both twins exclaimed with broad smiles, and Rosie’s worst fears were realized.
‘Oh no.’
The rapid succession of events left Rosie in a state of panic, and she quickly turned around and began walking away, her retreat from the twins desperate and hurried. “No.... it can’t be... no, no, no, no,” she repeated to herself, her voice trembling with disbelief.
‘How was this possible? They were fictional characters, and everything about the Burrow was nothing but fiction! They shouldn’t exist!’ Rosie quickened her pace, eager to leave the surreal scene behind and return to the comforting familiarity of her Heaven. But she became aware of movement beside her as, suddenly, the Weasley twins appeared, matching her speed effortlessly, one on each side of her. Startled by their sudden appearance, Rosie came to an abrupt stop, her heart racing.
The twins exchanged a glance, their faces a mix of curiosity and mild concern as they turned their attention to her.
The twin on her left asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Rosie faced forward, moving again and even quicker, determined to escape this bizarre situation.
Leave me alone.
But a pair of hands, one from each twin, reached out and firmly grasped her shoulders, bringing her to a halt.
“You okay?” One redheaded boy asked, followed by the other redhead, “You’re looking a bit peaky.”
They continued in a synchronic duet, “Why don’t you come inside?”
The twin on her right chimed in, “Yeah, you do look peaky,” while the other added, “Mum would never stand for it if we let you go home feeling unwell.”
The other boy looked at his twin, almost surprised, “Oh, we never did introduce ourselves properly,”
The twin nodded with a big smile at her, “I’m Gred.”
His twin followed it with a grin, “And I’m Forge!”
Rosie felt overwhelmed, her reality undoing before her eyes. The dissonance between her expectations of Heaven and the intrusion of these iconic characters was too much to bear. She struggled to breathe as if the damaged lungs from her former life were returning. A throbbing headache formed in her temples, quickly intensifying. Oh, why wasn’t she breathing?
Her heart pounded harder with each passing second, the rapid rhythm echoing in her ears. She felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, her vision blurring at the edges. The realization struck her – it was happening again. The crushing stress was sending her blood pressure plummeting. Rosie had experienced this before, during one of her treatments, and panic surged as she gasped for air, her breath shallow and uneven, desperately trying to calm herself.
‘Shit, shit, shit.’
Her legs trembled as she took a shaky step forward, driven by a primal instinct to escape the bewildering situation.
She had to get away from this mess.
But the dizziness intensified, and her vision darkened, narrowing to a tunnel. Her strength faltered completely, and the ground seemed to rise up to meet her. With a final gasp, her body gave out, crumpling to the earth as the overwhelming sensations overtook her, leaving her teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.