A few quick notes: First, I have been a vehement supporter of the Alicia/George universe for as long as I remember. However, I was recently introduced to the concept of authorial intent and realized that if J.K. Rowling says that George married Angelina, there is nothing I can do about it. Since she did not say anything about dear Miss Spinnet, I am free to make my own conclusions.
Second (and this is related to the first), the main characters in this story are all real in the sense that their names are mentioned in the books. Their personalities are my own invention. I tried to make them consistent with whatever the esteemed Ms. Rowling wrote.
Third, if anyone spots any discrepancies between this story and the books – if there is something in this story that goes directly against something in the books – please let me know. If you have anything, positive or negative, to say about this story, please let me know.
WhiteTree
Soldier On by WhiteTree
Chapter One: Cursed
They were very superstitious for a family of Ravenclaws. Members of the House of Wit and Learning generally have more sense than to believe "old witches' tales," but the Lincolns were not above it. They had disapproved of Annabelle's marriage to Solomon Bletchley from the start.
"When his wand's oak and hers is holly, then to marry would be folly!" cousins, aunts, and uncles would remind her whenever she spoke of her wedding plans. Annabelle was one of the few genuinely practical members of her family, and she always rolled her eyes. She thought their real resentment stemmed from a deep-seeded rivalry between the Lincolns of Ravenclaw and the Bletchleys of Gryffindor – the Lincolns thought the Bletchleys were rash and arrogant, and the Bletchleys thought the Lincolns were weak and conceited.
Annabelle and Solomon got married anyway. They didn't believe wand superstitions nor would they allow old prejudices to taint their happiness. Annabelle thought that Solomon was one of the kindest and most honorable men she knew, and Solomon thought that Annabelle was one of the cleverest and wisest women he had ever met.
Shortly after their first wedding anniversary, they announced to both sides of the family that they were expecting their first child. Again, the Lincolns muttered amongst themselves. Surely a child of this ill-fated union would be just as cursed! To the Bletchleys, it was the point of no return. To Annabelle and Solomon, it was the greatest joy either had ever felt.
A healthy boy was born to the couple in early October. He had Annabelle's robin's-egg-blue eyes and Solomon's dark curls. The glowing parents sent an owl to their families to relate the news. Shortly after the first owl came, another arrived. This one brought the bitter news that Annabelle had breathed her last not long after her son had breathed his first. For the anguish-stricken Lincolns, this was further proof that the boy was of the devil. No one – not Annabelle's grieving husband, not a variety of Healers at St. Mungo's, not the best wizarding counselors – could convince the stubborn family that their beloved Annie's death had been anything less than murder.
Perhaps later, after the initial pain and shock from Annabelle's death had worn off, the Lincolns might have been inclined to forgive little Miles if he had not exhibited a tendency toward disaster. Pets died and plants withered when he was near; family heirlooms tended to go missing or break; family members became ill after speaking to him. His father insisted that the trouble that followed his son was not Miles' fault, but the Lincolns paid him no notice. The most charitable of them believed that he was still grieving his wife and could not bear to be without his son, too.
The families drifted farther and farther apart as Miles grew. At his eleventh birthday party, Miles hugged his maternal grandfather hello, and the man dropped dead. His party guests fled in fear and shock, and although Solomon assured his son that the old wizard hadn't been long for the world anyway, Miles blamed himself too.
That summer, Miles received his invitation to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Finally, he thought, he would have a chance to prove to his family that he was not a monster. He would be Sorted into Gryffindor like his father or Ravenclaw like his mother, and at least one side of the family would accept him.
An alternative didn't occur to Miles until he sat on a rickety stool in the middle of the Great Hall of Hogwarts with the old Sorting Hat on his head.
My, what a mess your head is! Who's got you so turned around? the Hat whispered in his ear. You think you ought to be in Gryffindor? You are brave, to be sure, and have been raised with a sense of chivalry. You think perhaps Ravenclaw? You've got the brains for it and a thirst for knowledge. But there is more here in your head – a desire to prove yourself, a desire to break free from the family who won't accept you. You've got a strong heart and mind, boy, and you soldier on despite all that's going against you. That is why I think you'll survive SLYTHERIN!
Needless to say, Miles' family was not thrilled about the Sorting Hat's decision. The Lincolns had not spoken with him since old Mr. Lincoln's death, but Solomon received a cheerful Howler after the Sorting assuring him that they would have no more to do with him or his son. The Bletchleys hated to give up on one of their own, but Solomon would not abandon Miles, and they could not stomach the thought of a Slytherin in the family.
They were alone.