Rose had learned to live with the loss of her brother, even worse she’d learned somehow to get though each day functioning without him. She’d never forgotten him- how could she forget someone who was a part of herself but the meory of him had faded into the background until it no longer hurt to think of him. That was worse. She’d grown up, moved on with her life and kept the secret of her DE brother – a criminal in the eyes of the world – to herself.
“I’d like that,” She should spend some time with him, the flowers were a good idea. Symbolic even. And Rose knew some of the worry her friend faced at the game; Quidditch was personal because of Terence and her family. It was a part of who Astoria was. “I know,” she said simply as she plucked at the hem of her cardigan. “I think you’d be great at handling things. I’d trust you to handle anything.” Rose wanted to talk to her friend about the gift, the box of memories and the emotions it had stirred up inside of her but couldn’t choke out the words. And so she sat, nervously toying with her clothes and looking around the room.