A/N: Hello everybody! I do not know if many people will stumble upon this story, since it's a bit peculiar and its tagging may be confusing. Plus, it's a kind of crossover, because poor Theseus Scamander and others from the Fantastic Beasts fandom apparently don't have a place in the Harry Potter one... :/ Count me confused.

Anyway, this is a time-travel fic. BUT, I was kind of tired to see only Hermione travel back in time to meet Newt, so I made her daughter do it instead. Don't worry, all will be explained, and no stone shall remain unturned. ;)

Small precaution: Cursed Child is, in this story, canon (at least the plot is). I know many of you haven't liked it, hate it even, but for the sake of this story, it exists. But rest assured: its events are mentioned once or twice at most. Nothing really significant.

As always, feel free to review, to ask questions, or to tell me how to improve my writing! :D I'm a nice lass. ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Rose Granger-Weasley, Newt Scamander or any other character created by J.K. Rowling. My aim is merely to entertain and play around with them a little.

Chapter 1: In which Rose Granger-Weasley loves her job…mostly

September 2026

Rose Granger-Weasley loved her job. It was a fact. She adored it, adored the people she cared for, adored the way they smiled up at her when she brought them tea. She loved every second of it, and would never have changed it for the world.

That is, until one particular resident appeared at the Home for Elderly Witches and Wizards she worked at.

Rose, at twenty-one years of age, was every bit the lovely witch her mother had once been, despite their slight differences in looks. Rose's red-hair had recently been cropped in the latest Muggle fashion, making her look almost masculine, if it hadn't been for the soft angles of her face. Her bright blue eyes were elegantly rimmed with brown kohl, making them stand out quite beautifully, and the Home's uniform, consisting in a shirt and trousers of a pristine white, hid her appealing form to all.

She had decided to become a Healer quite early on, after discovering a strange affinity to Potions in her third year at Hogwarts. That and she thought it a good idea to counter her cousins' dilly-dally with something more sensible and, mostly, useful whenever one of them injured themselves idiotically.

She had been stationed in the Home – situated in the lovely county of Devonshire, near Bath – for a year by then and, as stated before, she loved it.

That day, she had just arrived and made a mental note to not forget Mrs Morris' deck of cards for her weekly game of whist, when her superior, Nurse Brierley, called her from her small office. "Nurse Weasley!"

Rose gritted her teeth. She was quite proud to bear both her parents' names, but apparently some people, including her superior, still took a sick pleasure in eluding her mother's patronym. It bothered her to no end, but in recent years she had learnt to control her impulses. Especially those to yell at people and put them back in their places. A trait she had, surprisingly, gained from Scorpius.

She smiled to herself while making her way to the office. Thinking about him, still snoring on their couch after a night of heavy reading, always did that to her. Her affection for the Malfoy boy had never evolved from friendship, and he had eventually understood that, but they had still decided to rent a flat together in Kensington, an area of London, and it was probably one of the best decisions she had ever made.

"Yes, Nurse Brierley?"

The older woman was standing behind her desk, half-hunched over it as she checked some papers, not even raising her eyes to meet Rose's. Which angered her too. She valued looking into people's eyes when talking to them. "There's to be a newcomer today. I trust you can prepare their room. Their belongings have already arrived and I hear you're quite adequate at decorating."

Rose pursed her lips. Yes, she liked decorating their new patients' rooms, and she was good at it, but mocking her, which her boss was obviously doing with that particular tone of voice, did not quite sit with her. "And who am I to expect?"

The other woman raised her gaze – finally – upon hearing the slight venom in Rose's voice. She did not comment on it, however, and merely gave a name. "Porpentina Scamander."

Rose's blue eyes widened. She was equally shocked and delighted. "Wife to the famous Newton Scamander?"

"Widow to the famous Newton Scamander, yes. Now off you go, there's no time to lose, she's expected at noon."

Rose did go, a look of wonder on her face. Tina Scamander. Great-grand-mother to the twins, Lorcan and Lysander, to whom Albus was godfather. Both were thirteen by then, and Lorcan already displayed his parents' interest in Care for Magical Creatures. To meet their famous relative, although one half of the power couple had died, was going to be extremely exciting.

Newton Scamander had sadly passed away two years prior, after 127 years of a full and adventurous life. The world had grieved him for weeks after word got out, but apparently, dear old Newt had 'let go of life, as it had become quite boring over time'. He had even left a note, although he passed in his sleep of natural causes.

His wife, now widow, Tina, was as famous as he had been. Proficient Auror in both MACUSA and the Ministry for Magic, she had helped her husband find and save countless creatures, helping him make light of their abilities and combatting prejudices held onto those "dangerous" creatures.

Rose admired the work they both had done. And she longed to have a conversation with the woman who had, once upon a time, helped unmask Gellert Grindelwald when he roamed MACUSA free of suspicion.

Mrs Scamander's suite was similar to all the others in the Home: it consisted in a parlour with a fireplace for family calls; a cosy bedroom; and a practical bathroom where elderly and fragile people could move around without fearing for their bones.

Several boxes had been placed in the middle of the parlour, and Rose rolled her sleeves up. She tugged her wand out of the holster at her hip and, after peeking inside the first box – cushions and plushy plaids mostly – she waved amply at the room, and the walls took on a lovely shade of blue reminiscent of the upholstery she then set out to place around. Each room in the Home already was complete with a sofa and two armchairs, a table with four chairs, and of course a four-poster bed, wardrobe and a chest of drawers. So Rose only had to decorate and make it more homely.

She smiled as she placed pictures on the mantelpiece: two of those were of twins Lorcan and Lysander, one more recent than the other, which depicted them as babies. Another was of Aunt Luna and Rolf's wedding; and another still depicted the late Newt cradling his and Tina's son Anthony. Rose had seen pictures of the famous magizoologist before, but had never seen him so young. He had been a redhead like her, and he looked so sheepish and awkward that his Hogwarts House was unmistakeable, even if it was notorious that he had been a Hufflepuff.

Once the parlour was ready – and much more homely – Rose set out to place Mrs Scamander's clothes in her wardrobe and drawers, as well as placing the two cat-beds in the bedroom. She had been made aware that there would be two pets coming with the Home's newest guest: two Kneazles, Hoppy and Milly. Luna had sent word that Mauler, the third one, had died a little after his owner.

It was a quarter-to-noon when she was done, and after placing her wand back at her hip and letting out a breath, Rose studied her handiwork with a smile. She thought that Mrs Scamander would like her new home very much.

Well, it appeared she was wrong.

Rose was introduced to her new resident the day after, and the least she could say was that despite her 125 years of age, Porpentina Scamander still had fire in her veins. She made it clear that she did not approve with her moving there, thinking she was still more than capable to take care of herself.

A fellow nurse had told Rose that their new care had refused to eat anything since her arrival, saying that the food they served was a 'disgrace' and that she'd make sure the Minister for Magic would hear about it. Seeing as said Minister was Rose's mother, it was unlikely that her doleances remained unheard.

Rose herself was 'welcomed' with a dismissing wave and harsh words about how skinny she was and couldn't obviously hold her own. But she refused to back away, and moved around the rooms, ignoring the old woman's growls. She had had to cope with her fair share since becoming a nurse.

"Child, come here!" came the call on the second day. Rose was halfway through changing the towels in the bathroom, and hurried to the parlour, where Mrs Scamander was reading something, Kneazle Hoppy on her lap. Molly was nowhere to be seen, but then again, she had already been sighted more than once near the kitchens.

"Yes Mrs Scamander?"

"You're a Weasley aren't you? My grand-daughter-in-law told me she knew you!" Tina's brown eyes were harsh and calculating as she watched Rose approach, and for some reason, it made the young woman uncomfortable.

"I am a Granger-Weasley, to be precise. And yes, I do know Luna. She's my aunt's best-friend."

"Granger-Weasley, uh? Must be hard bearing those names… I know what that feels like!" she said with a snort, and slammed close the book she'd been holding. Rose then noticed it had been her husband's first hit, 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them', an original copy by the look of it.

"I'm used to the stares that come with the name. It's been a while now…" A while since the War, she meant, as it would soon be thirty years since her parents and uncle defeated a Dark Wizard.

"Yes, well, is it true that Time Turners are on sale again? Has your mother talked about that?"

Rose froze. The demand had been concise, to the point, and Tina's eyes were once again hard, calculating. At that precise moment, Rose could see the former Auror in her. She'd seen it often enough in Uncle Harry's gaze.

"My mother does not talk about her work. Besides, if Time Turners were being made once again, I'm sure it'd be confidential, and she'd talk about it even less."

Tina tsked. "Shame. Well, if you hear about anything, tell me, child. I'm interested."

"Why?" Rose asked almost against her better judgement. But she could not fathom why Mrs Scamander would be interested in Time Turners. After all, they were notoriously dangerous items, and Rose herself could remember the fiasco of her cousin Albus and Scorpius' adventure a few years back.

"Never mind that. If you hear anything, tell me. Now go. I want to rest and your shuffling bothers me." With a wave of her hand, the door slammed open, and Rose couldn't help but start.

Tina Scamander could do wandless magic.

She was not to be trifled with…

When she got home that night, Rose stepped out of the fireplace with a great sigh, and kicked her shoes off none-too-gently. Coming from the kitchen was a very nice smell. Scorpius was cooking again.

"Bad day?" came his voice as he peeked around the door. If Draco Malfoy could see his son and heir right then, with a pink apron around his waist and flour on his nose, no doubt that he'd have a heart-attack.

Rose nodded and came into the kitchen, moaning when she smelled savoury crêpes. "She is a damn right crone."

Scorp chuckled, knowing damn well who she was talking about. "Well sit your ass down. I've opened a bottle." He served her a tall glass of French red – a guilty pleasure she got from her mother – and got back to his cooking.

"What about you?" Rose finally asked, a finger shamelessly dipping in the dough.

Scorpius swatted her hand away. "You know I can't talk about what I do at work. You knowing I'm an Unspeakable-"

"-is bad enough, I know," she said in a mocking sigh, "as if you didn't say that every single day."

"Well it's about bloody time it computed, Weasley."

"It's Granger-Weasley to you, Ferret."

He chuckled and continued cooking.

Later that night, Rose was sitting in her jammies in front of a Muggle television – again, something she got from her mother – Albus and Scorpius next to her on the couch as they all watched their favourite series: something about a catastrophe that gave every single human different powers they needed to control.

"Mum said that Mrs Scamander used to be nice," Albus said out of the blue. "I don't see why she's so mean to you."

Scorp slapped his best-friend's shoulder. "Don't talk about work here, Albus. She's going to snap."

"Shut up, Ferret," Rose said, sitting up and staring at her favourite cousin. "She asked me if I'd heard about Time Turners being made again."

"Time Turners? Why would she want to know about that?" Albus asked while Scorpius froze. He didn't blush or blanch, but he obviously was invested in the conversation.

So Rose stared at him when next she said "And most importantly, why is she so convinced that there still are some lying around?"

The young Malfoy shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, I haven't seen a Time Turner since…well…that time." Albus looked away, as he always did when reminded of the time he had lost all sense.

"Okay, I trust you," Rose said, "but still, it's weird."

"You got that right," the boys said in the same beat. And they went back to their series.

The following day, Mrs Scamander was nicer to Rose than she had been from the beginning. Turns out the twins and their father Rolf were coming to visit later in the afternoon, and it was all she needed to turn from bitter old crone to lovely grandmother.

Still, as she moved about the room clearing everything that Tina had been using the previous night, and feeding the Kneazles who kept purring and pushing against her legs, Rose couldn't stop wondering why on Earth she had been talking about Time Turners all of a sudden.

And she caught herself hoping that particular subject never came back during conversation…