Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Being an accomplished and hardworking member of the Department of Mysteries sometimes made a person lose sight of the little things in life. Being surrounded by complicated arithmancy formulas that calculated the potential for the manipulation of space and time, researching ancient runic alphabets as evidence of dead civilisations, and discovering whether certain potions and spells worked in the predicted manner on the human body using convicted criminals as test subjects; these were just some of the projects that Rose Potter had worked on as an Unspeakable and had been forbidden to discuss with anyone.

The Department of Mysteries was a place of the unknown, where proving a hypothesis definitively was considered a miracle, and the complicated nature of the job all but assured that everyone who worked there began thinking and over-thinking every little thing in their lives. Eventually common sense took a back seat to the intellect their work required, and it was an unfortunate fact that Unspeakables had a tendency to forget the simplest things.

Such as the existence of an entire room within the very department they worked at.

Even with the ill Death Eater situation – which had thankfully begun to taper off, with victims suffering the loss of a portion of their magic if they weren't dead – and Dumbledore's bizarre killing Grindelwald/killing himself fiasco, Rose was still concerned about the continued existence of one Lord Voldemort. With how much the crazy bastard had ruined her life, she thought she could be excused for still being twitchy and expecting the creep to jump out at any time and try to kill her.

Which was why when she remembered the Hall of Prophecies she face-palmed so hard she bruised herself.

The Hall of Prophecies. Also known as the room which could offer her physical proof that Voldemort was dead and gone for good. The prophecy – also known as the shitty useless words from a drunk fraud that destroyed hundreds of lives, thank you very much Sybil Trelawney – was a magical sphere that was connected to the life forces of the very individuals it spoke of. If one or more of the prophecy's subjects were fully dead and erased from this plane of existence, then the swirling smoke in the sphere would change from the light grey/white colour of a prophecy in play to the black smoke of a prophecy completed or voided.

All she needed was that annoying little sphere in the Hall of Prophecies and her mind could be at rest about Voldemort. As in, all she had to do was go to the very place where she had gone when she was fifteen and got her beloved godfather – now father – killed by his insane cousin. She honestly wasn't sure she was strong enough to do so.

Even as an adult, every single one of her co-workers had had at least a vague idea of her distaste for the hall and never made her step a single foot in there. Someone else had always been assigned duty in that room, and she'd always been pointed towards a project that required the utmost concentration, so she hadn't even had the time to contemplate what it would be like in the room that represented so much of her guilt.

No matter how many people told her that it wasn't her fault that Sirius had died that night, she would still never forgive herself for being such a reckless idiot. That was probably when she had first despised being a Gryffindor. She knew it was her fault; if only she'd been smarter then Sirius wouldn't have had to come and save her from her own stupidity. Even living with Sirius now didn't erase the fact that she still dreamt of his surprised face as he fell through the Veil, never to be seen again.

Sirius was one of the most important people in her life last time around, and she'd squandered their relationship by rushing in to an unknown situation like an idiot. She'd run to the Hall of Prophecies because she'd underestimated Voldemort's knowledge of their link, and because she'd thought that she was the only one who could save him. The knowledge of her arrogance and lack of intelligence still made her cringe to this day, thinking how if she'd only thought things through logically Sirius would have survived.

The Hall of Prophecies was the physical manifestation of one of her worst decisions, and just the image of the room was enough to give her cold shivers. Even knowing it was fake she could still remember the vision of Sirius being tortured on the floor in the room, his screams echoing off the walls as he defied his attacker. The Veil room may have been where he'd died but the Hall of Prophecies was the reason why he had even been there in the first place.

It was certainly surprising that she'd never had an aversion to the Veil after his death. This was the very artefact that had taken him away from her, and yet she'd never had the urge to run in terror from the room in which it was housed. She had a feeling collecting the Hallows had given her a strange connection to death, and the ragged stone archway with its fluttering veil had never made her rage and cower in fear as the prophecy room had. It was an emotional response, not a logical one.

The realisation that if she wanted the absolute proof of Voldemort's final demise she would have to enter the very scene of her guilt did nothing to assuage her fears, but Rose knew it needed to be done if she were to stop obsessing over him.

And so it would be.

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Rose abhorred the idea of lying to her dads; she didn't have them all living in one house together after time travelling just to lie to their faces. She had no desire to become like Albus Dumbledore, withholding information for 'the greater good' and manipulating lives into what she thought they should be rather than what they wanted.

She had told them straight up there was some information that wouldn't be nice to know in the slightest, such as who'd died in the war and the manner in which they'd died. Remus was aware that he'd died in the war and hated that he'd left Rose alone, but he agreed that knowing about events which probably wouldn't come to pass was pointless, and the family of three agreed together to keep Rose's knowledge private unless a situation was dire.

The girl had offered Remus some basic knowledge of his life after he'd asked, such as his wife and son, but hadn't elaborated on his mystery wife's identity on Remus' request. He knew that they had gotten together in the middle of a war, and with how different things were now he knew it was highly unlikely they would ever have the same relationship as in Rose's memories. He had a feeling it hadn't been Charity from Rose's reaction, but she didn't seem too bothered so he was happy.

Rose knew that she needed to go to the Ministry by herself to get the prophecy. It wasn't that she was the only one who could, but rather she wanted to go alone. She had to deal with her anxiety regarding the Hall of Prophecies, and she knew if someone went with her she'd use them as an emotional crutch and she couldn't do that.

This was an issue that she'd had and ignored for a decade and a half and she needed to deal with it. She knew how to get into the Ministry easily, and with the laxer security at this point in time it would be a joke getting in and out. The problem was whether or not her dads would let her.

They knew she was mentally an adult, but they tended to treat her as a child so she could actually experience having people care for her as she should have before. Usually she appreciated it, but now she was worried they wouldn't let her go by herself. She loved them dearly but this was a task best done solo, not because she was being arrogant, but because they genuinely couldn't understand her bizarre emotions towards the place.

She made her way from her room to the kitchen where Sirius and Remus had their work notes spread over the table as they worked, picking at the plates of snacks Miffy had made for them earlier. It was nine o'clock at night, but night time was the best time to break in to the Ministry. At this point in time the security for the Ministry of Magic was shit, to put it frankly, and as an Unspeakable she knew of an obscure back entrance specifically used by their department so they didn't have to deal with others – Unspeakables tended to be a little anti-social.

"Dads?"

Two heads snapped up and she was fixed with identical frowns. It warmed her heart that the two men knew her well enough to tell if something was wrong just by the tone of her voice.

Remus asked, "What's wrong Rose?" He knew she was worried about something but she was also looking quite determined.

She cleared her throat. "I have something I need to do. Like, right now. You two won't really understand why I feel like this, but I need to get something from the Ministry and I need to do it alone. Will you let me?"

"Why do you need to do it alone?" Sirius was worried but he wouldn't ignore his daughter's feelings. She was smart, and if she felt she had to do something then he'd let her.

"Honestly? I know it's stupid, but I need the prophecy to prove to myself that Voldemort's dead. But I also need to go there to deal with some issues that I've been ignoring for the past fifteen years."

Sirius had a sinking feeling he knew what 'issues' she was talking about. He didn't know a whole lot about his future, but he knew he'd died in the Ministry of Magic and that his daughter felt responsible for his death. She was too stubborn though, and no matter how many times he told her it'd been his murderer's fault she still felt guilty. He hated knowing that his (most likely) reckless actions had gotten himself killed and made her feel guilt for his death.

The other man had similar thoughts to Sirius, and Remus was struck once more with how they'd left the war in the hands of a barely-trained teenage girl. They should have been protecting her, not pushing her to the front lines. He felt for her and he could see how important this was to her.

"It's not stupid to want proof that the man who ruined your life is dead. He was a monster who killed your parents and stopped Sirius and I from caring for you, not to mention the countless other lives he destroyed. If having proof of his death in your hands will settle your mind, then go for it. Just be careful, I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you." Remus finished with a warm smile.

Sirius grinned. "Moony's right Bambi. If you need to go then go, but make sure to be safe. If something goes wrong I'll feel it anyway what with the Black rings being connected. If you need us to go with you we will, but if you need to do this by yourself just make sure you stay safe."

Rose teared up a little and rushed forward to be enveloped in a hug, held by two pairs of strong arms. She could smell chocolate, smoke and firewhiskey, and she'd never felt safer.

She stepped back and said goodbye, before turning around and going back to her room to get ready. She had a prophecy to get.

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In every direction there were rows and rows of glass orbs, prophecies made throughout time, spanning centuries and distance. All she could think about was how these innocent-looking spheres had the ability to completely wreck the lives of so many.

The prophecy about her and Voldemort for instance. If nobody had heard it then Dumbledore wouldn't have sent the Potters and Longbottoms into hiding, Voldemort wouldn't have targeted her parents for that reason, she might have grown up with a family, and Dumbledore wouldn't have seen fit to sacrifice a child's life for the sake of destroying Voldemort. The two men had let their lives be dictated by a simple prediction that was completely subjective. Instead of analysing and interpreting the words, they'd reacted without thought and turned the prophecy into a modern-day Oedipus situation.

She shook her head to dismiss the thought and turned down a path that, despite not having walked for over fifteen years, was as familiar as anything. She took her time, walking at a sedate pace and paying more attention to the feeling of her beloved cloak, the silky material caressing her as she walked, flowing around her as it hid her from all view. It was certainly nicer to think about than what lay ahead.

Reaching aisle ninety-seven she froze. There was Sirius on the ground, her beloved godfather. No, Sirius was her dad and he was at home, The Pottery. He was crying in pain from the torture; the Cruciatus Curse was destroying him. But Dad is eating too many snacks with her other dad, laughing. He was going to die on the ground at the feet of a monster. Sirius was healthy and happy now, he was only going to die of old age. A flash of green –

She sucked in a deep breath and slammed up her shields. She couldn't afford to break down here; if anyone found out she broke in there would be hell to pay to say the least. Sirius Black was her father and he was perfectly happy at home with her other father. He wasn't being tortured, he was sat at home eating too much sugar as he worked on his projects. He wasn't an escaped convict, he was an engaged man who was planning for his future.

Sirius was okay.

Her heart rate gradually slowed as she controlled her breathing. She walked over to the very spot from that ill-fated vision and memorised every inch of the Sirius-free space, forcibly committing it to memory. She would make herself overwrite the past memory by force if she had to. Looking around, she slowly compared the scene from her vision to the present, using the empty hall to negate the ill-fated dream that destroyed her family. Nobody was being tortured, and nobody was popping up to kill her.

She wasn't going to get anyone killed.

Rose now had another memory of this place, a boring memory of a hall empty of people. No people, no noise, no Sirius. She choked a little with relief as the small knot in her chest relaxed at the realisation that everything was okay now.

Her mental shields were ridiculously strong, her parents were safe, and the two men who'd let themselves get caught up in power and control were no longer around to ruin things. She had the chance to live for herself and have fun for once, and she wasn't going to let her memories ruin everything.

Wiping the tears from her eyes she sped to the shelf in question and looked up.

S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D

Dark Lord

And (?) Rose Potter

She picked up the sphere and held it in her hand, grinning at the smoke inside – the black smoke.

Her heart had never felt lighter and she could almost feel the weight lift from her shoulders. The black smoke in the delicate orb was proof that Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, was dead and gone from this world. The prophecy was useless now, and she could get on with her life without worrying about him coming back.

She didn't need to see his dead body, she just needed to keep on looking at the sphere which all but shouted the fact of his death.

With a happy grin on her face Rose glanced at the scene of Sirius' fake torture and nodded, before heading back through the Time Room to head back home.

If she surreptitiously grabbed a polished gold Time-Turner on the way out, nobody was around to see.

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I need some good self insert or rebirth stories. Please recommend if you know any.

2779 words