“Mother dear.” Wendy tugged on the sleeve of Nymphadora’s shirt.

The woman was busy cooking dinner. She was too focused, but still she managed to hear her daughter. 

“What is it, my love?” Nymphadora hummed quietly. 

“Do you…” Wendy trailed off. “Do you know someone named Park Chaeyoung, I mean Roseanne Park?” 

As if the name was some poison to the woman’s ears, she immediately stopped stirring, her hand gripping the wooden ladle until her knuckles turned white.

The seventeen year old girl didn’t fail to notice the stiffness in her mother’s shoulders, and the glint of dark sorrow in her eyes. 

So Wendy was right after all. Park Chaeyoung was a part of her past, but who was she exactly? 

“Park Chaeyoung…” The way Nymphadora said the deceased girl’s name was sadly heartbreaking. “I mean Rosé… her family was our neighbor. She was your favorite neighbor, and your childhood playmate. She was the older sister that you never had.” 

Wendy absently clutched her chest where her heart started to beat briskly. 

“She was a muggle-born, but she believed in our kind, and generally in magic since she was a child.” Nymphadora carried on as she turned off the stove. “Before Rosé entered Hogwarts, she was always there for you whenever your father, and I are at work.”

“So, she was special to me?” 

“Yes she was, and you were so attached to her. You cried nonstop when she started her school year.” 

Wendy fell silent for a short while, trying her best to remember anything about Rosé, but nothing. Even her face or her voice, she couldn’t remember it. 

“But why can’t I remember her, mother? I tried many times to recall a single memory of her, but all I can see is blackness.” 

Nymphadora’s body tensed. Her heart silently broke for her dearest daughter. 

“Because when Rosé got killed, I obliviated your memories.” It was Remus who answered her question. 

Turning around, Wendy saw her father leaning against the door of the kitchen. He was standing there all along. 

“Why?” The young witch said weakly, almost like a whisper. 

“I didn’t want you to be miserable.” Remus walked up to his daughter, and held her at arm length. “Your mother, and I were sure that if we told you about her murder, you would never get over her even if many years pass by.”

“So I never knew about her death?” Wendy asked, basking into the warm touch of her father. 

“No,” Nymphadora chimed in. “Once we received the news that her classmate Myoui Mina murdered her, your father instantly erased your memories of Rosé.” 

“I’m so sorry, darling.” said Remus. 

“Please don’t apologize. I think it was for the better.” Wendy said softly. “By the way, how does she look like?”

“Roseanne Park wasn’t only beautiful in the inside. She was also beautiful in the outside.” Her father began. “She had black hair, but she later dyed it into dark ginger. She had deep-brown eyes, and a healthy figure. She also looked like an Asian beauty queen.” 

Wendy smiled as she listened. Although no memory would come up in her head, she was sure that she lived lots of great moments with