Chapter One: Of Stealing Flowers for Tombstones
"So we're going back tomorrow. I still don't see the point but that new Minister for Education, Mathilda what's-her-face. She's insisted on everyone involved in the War to receive proper education. You would think that being war heroes and killing Voldemort would merit for an early graduation. Anyway… I don't know how I feel about the coming year. I mean, Head Girl? I always thought that Hermione would get the badge, you know? I don't know what McGonagall was thinking." Celine Van Allen paused, the trace of her laughter dying on her lips. "It's going to be weird without you there." Her fingertips toyed with the blades of grass.
"I mean, either way you weren't going to be there…at Hogwarts…But we could've met at Hogsmeade. Especially since… Since you and George were planning to open another store there…" The sobs came unexpectedly and Celine allowed the grief to burst forth, grief that came from the deepest parts of her core. "Oh Fred…"
Her fingers helplessly traced his name on the tombstone, searching for some sort of sign that he was there. That he was listening and this was all some elaborate plan. Because who else would be able to pull off an 'I faked my own death' scheme if not the Trouble Twins?
Maybe he would apparate behind the tombstone?
Or appear at supper later, walking nonchalantly into the dining room as if nothing had happened. Like that bloke from that Muggle book that Hermione had lent her, Sherlock Holmes the man that survived his own suicide.
"Fred this isn't fair. You weren't supposed to die. You promised me…We were going to get a place in Faerytale… Have kids…Build a life together…" She was gripping the smooth edges of the headstone, inhaling another balmy summer night. "How could you propose to me and then die?" The last syllable came out as a harsh rasp as Celine's small frame convulsed under the force of her sobs.
Her fingers curled around the long stems of roses she had brought to his grave, her tears showering the exquisite red petals. A pair of arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her backwards onto her haunches.
Hands that was so similar…
Scent that was so similar…
"Ssshhh… Celine… It's okay. It's going to be okay."
Voice that was so similar…
"How can it George?" Her tone was harsher than she intended. "How can it ever be okay?"
"Because it just has to." George said. "You weren't the only one that lost a part of yourself that night."
His words hit her in the most unpleasant way, anger slowly seeping into her veins.
Well this isn't about you, George!
Celine slumped against George, shaking her head shamefacedly at her selfish thoughts, the fight leaving her body. He slowly began to pull her up, his arms steadying her swaying body.
"Here." He produced a handkerchief which Celine took wordlessly. "We better head back. Mum will wonder where we've gotten to."
George knew they had to hurry but some part of him refused to apparate to the fringes of the Burrow's backyard, choosing instead to lead Celine down the hill and past the Gothic cemetery gates taking the long and dusty path back home. They remained silent as their footsteps echoed off the dimly lit pavements. George wasn't about to admit it to her, but he found a strange type of solace within Celine. Almost like he had a part of Fred back with him every time he gazed into her striking lavender colored pupils.
"I never knew." His voice cracked. Celine glanced at him, her face almost expressionless.
"I never knew that he proposed." George continued. Celine nodded, her face not betraying the turmoil of emotions that simmered beneath the surface of her skin. George seemed to fumble now, "I mean… I always figured… He was going to… He spoke of it often-…"
"Did he?"
"Oh yeah." George nodded, clearing his throat as he remembered the look on Fred's face when he had first announced his plans to marry Celine while they had been plotting against Umbridge.
"I'm going to marry her." Fred declared proudly, producing with a flourish the list of ingredients they would need to make their everlasting fireworks. They were discussing their rebellion against the horrid toad, Umbridge.
"You're what?" George asked incredulously. He couldn't believe his ears.
"Celine." Fred clarified, taking a seat at the table where George and Lee Jordan were discussing their strategies to cause as much chaos as they possibly can during the fifth years' OWLs. "I'm going to marry her."
"Mate, I know she means the world to you but do you think you've thought this through?" Lee Jordon asked dubiously. "Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes has barely started-…"
"But business is already pouring in." Fred interjected. "We've got Zonko's asking for partnership rights. And it wouldn't be now. It'll be after… You know… After all this mess with You –Know-Who is over."
"That could take years." George said, rubbing the back of his knuckles. Why did he suddenly feel abandoned? He and Fred always did everything together. And he knew they couldn't possibly marry the same girl but George always envisioned when they day came the two would take that serious step together.
"He's been planning it since we got our startup money from Harry. I guess he sort of knew that we were going to have a pretty lucrative business." George said and then glanced at Celine. "He was waiting for the war to be over. He didn't want to rush into things."
Harsh laughter came from Celine. "Yeah and look where that got him." She said bitterly. "Bill had the right idea. Get married before someone dies."
"He didn't do it on purpose, Celine." George tried to keep his voice even but was finding it hard to. Celine gave him a look which caused George to grab her upper arm rather uncharacteristically. "He was my twin. If anyone should have the right to wallow in grief and in pain, it's me. Don't be such a self-centered prat."
She yanked her arm out of his grip. "Stop using that against me!" Celine snarled, tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks. "Everyone knows about you and your special bond you had with Fred but you have to understand that I was just as important."
"I never said that you weren't!"
"Well that's what it always seems like." Celine muttered. The Burrow was in sight, yellow lights were shining out of the off-centered windows and a lone owl, was it Pigwidgeon?
No. This owl was far too big to be the diminutive owl that had been a gift to Ron after making prefect. Celine vaguely remembered the day when the brown barn owl from Hogwarts arrived during their sixth year, carrying not just the usual envelope containing their list of school books and other miscellaneous items that would need for their first year as NEWTs student, but also a shiny Gryffindor badge with a large 'P' stamped on the middle.
"Dumbledore must've thought it would be safer for students if he increased the number of prefects." Harry took the badge from Celine's hand.
"You're not…upset are you?" Celine asked, remembering his reaction when Ron had first gotten the badge instead of him. Harry shrugged. "My Dad was never a prefect anyway."
Mrs. Weasley took one look at Celine's disheveled hair and dirtied knees as she entered the kitchen and immediately took the raven-haired girl in her arms. Celine didn't know whether it was anxiety or depression or fatigue but Mrs. Weasley's matronly demeanor caused her to break down into sobs all over again.
"I know dear," Mrs. Weasley stroked Celine's long hair reassuringly. "I know."
Celine sat closest to the window of the black Sedan (magically enlarged of course) courtesy of Kingsley Shacklebolt, the newly appointed Minister of Magic. Harry and Ron had been quite unhappy that despite having saved the world from Voldemort, they were still required to produce NEWTs certification in order to qualify for the Auror application. Ron was still arguing about the lunacy of it all when Mrs. Weasley turned around and said if he did not quit his griping she was going to use the Silencing Charm on him. He sat in fumed silence for the rest of the trip.
"I don't know. It might not be so bad, Ron. After all, we've never had the chance to experience a normal year. Maybe we ought to enjoy the quiet life before throwing ourselves back into it." Harry wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders causing Ron to roll his eyes but he grunted begrudgingly.
"I didn't think you'd want a quiet life, Harry." Mr. Weasley chimed from beside the driver. "I think you might find it rather dull."
"You know me, Mr. Weasley. I like to find peace when I can." Harry said, earning an earnest chuckle from the older wizard.
Mrs. Weasley chuckled a little at but her eyes were drawn to Celine whom hadn't spoken a word since they entered the car. She loved Celine dearly and thought of her as a surrogate child especially since her mother had died when she was twelve. Celine's father on the other hand, was constantly abroad as he worked as an ambassador for the Ministry of Magic working closely with the Muggle Prime Minister.
Ever since the death of his wife, the prestigious Marc Van Allen had been unwilling to give up their estate that his wife had so lovingly helped make into a home and had fallen into deep depression. At the urge of concerned relatives, Marc realized that the only piece of Helena he would ever have left is Celine. He quickly accepted the position as ambassador and bought a charming townhouse in the middle of London and relocated her studies to Hogwarts so that he could have her closer to him.
Unfortunately, his business trips which also included being present at the royal court left little time for him to spend with his daughter. He needn't have worried, Celine had befriended the Golden Trio when they had crossed-paths whilst taking care of Hagrid when Buckbeak was sentenced by the Wizengamot.
Mrs. Weasley watched Celine's fingers gently tracing spirals in the condensation on the window. She wasn't surprised when she found the seventeen year old sitting at the breakfast table at 6am. The knees on her jeans were stained with wet patches and she was nursing a mug of tea in her hands.
"I had to go see him. Before we left. I took some sunflowers from the garden. I hope you don't mind." Celine murmured over the rim of her mug.
Wordlessly Mrs. Weasley had embraced her, understanding Celine's pain only too well.
