Sunlight spilled softly across the nursery, warming the tiny cribs and the scattered toys. Rose blinked up at the ceiling, her hazel eyes taking in the familiar warmth of the room, the scent of lavender from Lily's pillows, the faint smoke of the hearth downstairs.
[System Notice:
World switch detected. You are now Rose Euphemia Potter, infant. Emotional, magical, and survival parameters active. Previous world memories retained.]
Her mind flicked briefly to the other world—TV world, hospital nursery, her newborn self there. She could feel the weight of that life pressing softly on her consciousness, like a thread pulling at her chest. Then she returned her attention to this world, to her crib, to the tiny body she occupied here.
A soft knock on the nursery door drew her attention. A shadow moved across the threshold.
Peter Pettigrew.
Even as a newborn, Rose recognized him instantlyby the system's tagging of [potentially dangerous individuals nearby].
Her tiny fists curled instinctively. She could do nothing physically…yet her mind whirled.
'Cuteness. Observation. Subtle influence. Maybe I can tip him slightly toward good instincts.'
Pettigrew's eyes widened the moment he stepped into the room. He froze, glancing between the two cribs.
"I…thought there was only supposed to be one," he murmured, his voice trembling as he turned toward James Potter.
James chuckled, leaning over the cribs with pride. "Surprise. Looks like you've got twice the trouble today, Peter."
Pettigrew swallowed, still staring down at the twins. "Two…both healthy?"
"They're perfect," Lily said softly, brushing a lock of hair from Rose's tiny forehead. "Both our little miracles. You're welcome to help us keep them alive, Peter, if you're feeling brave."
Rose, lying in her crib, observed everything with precocious awareness. She felt the weight of Pettigrew's surprise and hesitation. Tiny though she was, she calculated quickly:
- He might be manipulated by small, instinctive affection.
- Realistically, a newborn's cuteness would only go so far.
- But subtle influence—even a tiny tug on conscience—could make a difference.
A small coo escaped her lips. Her hazel eyes widened, innocent and curious. 'Observe, wait…maybe it will be enough to sway him.'
Pettigrew blinked at her, confusion flickering in his eyes. He crouched closer, studying the tiny red-haired infant, her hazel eyes strangely knowing, almost too aware.
"You…you're just a baby," he said softly, half to himself. Yet even his uncertain words carried the faintest hesitation, a pause she cataloged carefully.
'Good. That's a start.'
Rose turned her gaze toward her tiny brother Harry, curling in his crib. She felt the familiar thread of responsibility pull at her heart, the invisible weight of her dual destinies pressing down. 'Protect. Observe. Influence subtly. Wait.'
[System Advisory:
Emotional influence detected. Small effect applied. Monitoring: Pettigrew. Outcome uncertain.]
Even in her fragile, newborn body, she felt the spark of control—the faint tug of power threaded through her soul by Death and by the system. She was small, but aware.
Her crescent moon birthmark, faint beneath the blanket, shimmered softly as if acknowledging her thoughts. Fate threads tangled around her even now, weaving a story of survival, protection, and choices that only she could make.
The morning sun shifted across the nursery, casting soft light on the two cribs. Rose's hazel eyes tracked every movement: the flick of James' hand, the gentle brushing of Lily's fingers against Harry's tiny cheek, and Peter Pettigrew lingering near the doorway.
Even in her newborn body, she could feel the currents of attention and emotion around her. Pettigrew's surprise at the twins had not fully faded. His mind wavered, uncertainty flickering behind his eyes. Rose recognized it instantly—tiny cracks in resolve, subtle hesitation.
[System Advisory:
Emotional influence opportunity detected. Minimal physical capability. Influence via cuteness and gaze suggested.]
She cooed softly, a high, delicate sound that carried curiosity and innocence. Tiny fingers flexed as if reaching for Pettigrew. The system noted the response.
[System Update:
Pettigrew response: slight emotional destabilization.
Hesitation increased by 7%.
Subtle precognition aura active.]
Pettigrew froze mid-step, his eyes drawn inexplicably to her tiny face, hazel eyes wide and unnaturally focused. Even adults with experience in magic or darkness could feel the pull of her presence, subtle as it was. The man's breath hitched, his usual nervous energy compounded by the faint, unexplainable weight pressing on his conscience.
Rose felt a spark of satisfaction. 'Good. Small effect, but measurable. Keep watching.'
Across the room, Harry stirred. A tiny yawn escaped him, and Lily instinctively reached down to coo at him, brushing a tuft of hair from his forehead.
Rose observed, cataloging. Subtle patterns of interaction, touch, tone of voice—these would shape their early bonds.
She flexed her tiny fingers again, cooing slightly louder. James glanced down at her, smiling. "You're trying to charm the adults already, huh?"
Rose noted the system's approval.
[Subtle emotional influence measurable in adults—cuteness alone had small but tangible effect. Repeated exposure recommended.]
Pettigrew took an involuntary step back, muttering under his breath. "I thought…"
Something about this tiny infant unsettled him. Rose didn't need to understand human fear fully—her precognition told her it was working. A slight ripple in the threads of his intent. She could manipulate only small fractions now, but even small fractions could accumulate into real safety over time.
She turned her attention back to Harry, noting every nuance. Tiny sighs, stretches, murmurs—patterns she could catalog. Even now, the twins' lives were entangled, influenced by everyone's emotions and attention. Her system pinged gently:
[System Advisory:
Twin dynamic active.
Early influence can alter social and magical bonding.
Minimal physical intervention possible.]
Rose cooed again, gaze fixed on Pettigrew, tilting her head in the tiniest, calculated display of innocence and attention. Pettigrew's shoulders twitched; his hesitation grew, though he tried to mask it.
[Measurable effect. Keep observation.]
Meanwhile, James whispered to Lily: "I've never seen Peter this unsure around babies before."
Lily's eyes narrowed. "He's always skittish. But…he's really off today."
Rose's tiny body relaxed slightly, satisfied with the results. She couldn't act overtly—she was still a newborn—but influence could happen quietly, in microseconds, in gazes, in coos, in the natural pull of her presence.
The threads of her dual destiny whispered that even now, she was shaping the environment, bending what she could without anyone realizing it.
[System Advisory: Precognitive aura active. Emotional influence detectable by others sensitive to intent. Early-stage manipulations successful.]
Rose lay back in her crib, watching the adults and her twin brother interact. She was small. Fragile. Helpless in form. But she was Rose Euphemia Potter—aware, calculating, and already weaving threads that could protect, guide, and survive.