'Grandma! Geroff me!' A very annoyed Teddy Lupin continued to whine, trying to get his grandmother to stop wiping his nose. 'Oh but if you would just stay still,' Andromeda said, licking her handkerchief and continuing to wipe, while using her other hand to keep a grip on his shoulder.
'There,' she sighed after a minute, letting Teddy feel his now very pink, tender nose, content with her work as his hair turned a very light orange. 'I'll go and make sure everything is in my trunk before we go,' Teddy said, already half way up the stairs. 'Alright but hurry, we only have a few minutes to spare,' Andromeda called up the banister. 'It's already quarter after ten.'
Teddy rolled his eyes as he distantly heard his grandma grouch a bit more, turning the glass, octagonal doorknob to his room. He entered the room, making a beeline for the bed, placing his feet on the large brown trunk that sat at the end of it. He and his grandmother both knew very well that he hadn't come up here for further packing.
So much change had happened in the past couple of weeks, it was a bit hard to conceive it all. The only people he had ever known were Victoire, James, and all the rest of the Weasley-Potter family. He had met Mia a bit earlier that year, when he was supposed to meet Xevera as well, but then she had some trouble with her muggle parents, and then after meeting her just before school, and not long before that… Well if that's how easy it would be to make friends, life was just a little too surreal at the moment. But he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with questions. What if everyone hated him? What if the teachers hated him? What if he failed everything? What if he became a social outcast for his being… well, different? Or worse, what if he and James weren't in the same house?
He knew Victoire and Xevera were having the same worry, although concerning themselves. Initially they had been worried that Xevera might end up in Slytherin, seeing as Hogwarts had changed quite a bit since the Golden Trio's heyday. While you still got slime balls, Slytherin house was more a house of badasses rather than a house of evil. During regular feasts houses would intermingle, and if invited by someone of that house, you could go into other common rooms. This was mostly due to, not too surprisingly, Hermione, who after the war had made it her duty to make the wizarding world a better place. Teddy, James, and Xevera had had to speak for almost an hour with Victoire, trying to convince her that she would be fine, and end up in Gryffindor with Xevera and Mia.
It was at that moment in deep thought, that Teddy noticed the corner of a photo sticking out of the pillow next to him. Fingertips were just peeking out, supposedly waving back and forth. He carefully tugged out the photo, and the second he got a good look of the photo; he slapped a hand to his forehead. He sat up and scooted down the bed, unlatching his trunk, thankful at that moment that his grandmother had been the one to pack. He heard a faint, '10:45,' and with one last look at his smiling mother and father, he shoved the photo in with the other contents of his trunk, just as his grandmother came bustling through the door.
'10:46,' She practically screamed, pointing her wand at Teddy's trunk, making it disappear.
'Oi!'
'Don't worry, I zapped it to George, he's at the station. Xevera turned up at Angelina and George's doorstep this morning.' Her face showed the same confusion that he was sure his face was showing too. Andromeda had indeed known Xevera longer than Teddy, but it didn't take a genius to know that Angelina and George loved Xevera as their own. Regardless, it was strange, but Teddy decided he'd ask Xevera about what happened later.
Little did he know that Andromeda knew fully well what had happened, and that he would never find out what had happened at Amber Cottage earlier that morning.
'Mum, are you sure you can't take me to King's Cross Station?'
'For the last time, yes, I'm sure. Hitch a ride with one of your freak friends.' It was six in the morning, and Xevera Zillia had been trying to convince her mother for the past half-hour to take her to King's Cross Station, in order for her to get to Hogwarts.
'They're not freaks, if they're freaks, then I'm a freak. That's it! You think I'm a freak!' Miss Schwartz sighed dramatically, but still didn't turn over in bed, not wanting to give her daughter the time of day. 'Yes Xevera, you've caught me, I think you're a freak.'
Catching onto the heavy sarcasm, Xevera said quietly, 'Next time, don't insult my friends, especially when the insult can be easily turned on me, and you know it.'
'I can have my own opinion.'
'Then don't share,' Xevera spat, frowning in disgust at the lump under the blanket in front of her. 'I don't want to have to always be punished for doing the right thing; defending my friends from your pathetic insults.'
'I should tell your father about this.'
'And what's he going to do, find me in the middle of the night with his buddy Melvin the machete?' She let out a deep sigh; 'I think I'm going to stay at dad's for Christmas.'
'Oh, okay.' Miss Schwartz said this in a way that was supposed to sound hurt, even if she wasn't, and did this to make Xevera feel bad. She would always say that it was okay, and it was fine, when Xevera would start to ask if it was alright, feeling guilty.
'Um I should get going.' Pause. 'Wanna say goodbye?' She heard a small grunt, as her mother heaved herself over to finally face her, spreading her arms out, eyes still half closed. 'Come here.' They held onto each other for a moment, as Xevera whispered, 'I'll miss you.'
'I'll miss you too.' She kissed her daughter, looking down at her. 'You know I love you right?'
'Yeah I love you too,' Xevera smiled, secretly wondering to herself just how far that truly extended.
Her mother went right back to sleep, almost as if nothing had happened in the past few minutes, so Xevera headed right back out of the room, zipping up her purple hoodie. She headed down the stairs and looked out the slightly cracked window. Great. It was raining. 'Just my luck,' she smirked. She looked at the ten pounds in her hand, and grabbed onto her trunk, wondering how the hell she would do what she was just about to do. If she wanted any hope of ever getting to Hogwarts, there was only one place she could go, and one place only.
She would take a bus to a nearby bakery, which wasn't that close, considering it was 20 miles away. Last week James had come over, showing her that there was this place called a telefloo, a tiny building with multiple floo places. (It was obviously hidden to the muggle eye.) From there she would floo to another telefloo, near Amber Cottage, George and Angelina's home. It was out there, but it had to work, all possibilities of going the Hogwarts were riding on this plan.
With a groan at all thoughts of failure, Xevera wrenched open the front door, and started out, lugging her trunk behind. She not once looked back, keeping her mind in its usual, comical, teasing state.
Like most English houses in the countryside, the Schwartz residence was in the middle of nowhere, while the Zillia residence, Xevera's father's house, resided in the center of London. Being in the middle of nowhere made public transportation decide, for a sensual reason, that they needed to have a bus stop every mile or so.
In the short distance it took to get to the bus stop, Xevera had gotten completely drenched. When she got under the small bus stop covering, she smiled to herself, 'Darn! Should've worn my swimsuit today! Oh well, next time.' But the bus arrived soon enough, although the arrival amused Xevera beyond compare.
The bus driver was a short, pudgy man named Darwin. Darwin was a simple man, with brown combed over hair, and in his late thirties. He was a quiet man, just wanting to do his job, driving across England everyday. He had a fairly easy job, got paid fairly well for doing something he actually enjoyed, driving, and Darwin took great pride in his job.
Almost nobody used the bus, so when Darwin was speeding along, and saw an 11-year-old girl actually waiting for the bus, Darwin tried to stop suddenly; he was lucky that he hadn't completely smashed the bus. It had skidded, leaning dangerously, ending its voyage by sitting right across the road, blocking all inexistent traffic.
As the bus door slowly creaked open, Xevera stepped onto the first step with her trunk and cracked a smile. 'Thank you for not killing me sir, it really made my day! Oh, and,' she dropped some money in front of him. 'I'm heading over to central Corrykinloch, I'm sure you know where that is.'
And with that she heaved up her trunk, and went to the back of the bus, leaving Darwin dumbstruck, trying to stifle her laughter all the way to her seat. It didn't take long to figure out why Darwin had been so staggered to see her, nobody came on the bus, and at the rare stop sign, Darwin would turn around and goggle at her, as if not sure whether or not she was real. When this would happen, Xevera would either give a broad grin, wave, give a thumbs up, or point her hands at him like guns, winking with that "you got it" kind of look.
It was a half hour drive, with a lot of green fields, and lots of rain. They passed two muggle farms, where cows would be moseying through the field and, much to Xevera's wonder, didn't seem to take any care whatsoever to the rain beating down upon them. To occupy herself the rest of the time, she would look at the large window and have a "race" between two raindrops, seeing who would reach the bottom first. After about 20 minutes of driving, cars started appearing. They shortly entered a tiny little town, which had to have 15 stores at most, with approximately four people loitering around.
Darwin pulled the bus to a halt, letting Xevera slowly and steadily make her way down the bus, her trunk trailing along. She smiled at Darwin brightly, 'Again, really appreciate that you decided to spare my life!' She waved cheerfully. Not remembering the last time he had actually had to talk a passenger, Darwin just gave her a strange look, grunted, and closed the doors.
Xevera watched as the bus roared to life and went on its way, gazing at it until it was a tiny dot off in the distance. She turned her attention to the town around, which she now noted was extremely run down, as she scanned the town, looking for the tiny telefloo bakery, until she spotted it.
It had closed down ages ago as far as she could tell. It still had a, (now dull and faded,) pink awning with letters that were peeling. She could only make out an "a", and then the "kery" in bakery. She had remembered from last time as James had shown her, that from here, and to all muggles, it looked like a boarded up, out of business bakery. But if you were a wizard, and got closer, you could see lots of large fireplaces for flooing. Excited with a tight grip on her trunk, Xevera leapt forward, but didn't get very far, as her trunk was probably twice her weight. With determination and an even tighter grip, she began slowly tugging the trunk down the block, wheezing, 'Just got to floo, and then I'll have a few more miles of this.'
Thankful to have made it to the telefloo without passing onto the next life, she slipped inside, finding herself gaping.
It was all dark marble with large, gold, finely detailed crested fireplaces. There was a man or woman guarding each fireplace, each wearing a light blue uniform and cap, the shoulders and caps entwined with thin, golden braids. The place was huge, having to hold at least 30 fireplaces and 30 expressionless men and women to go along with them. She cautiously made her way inside, her footsteps echoing on the floor, and her trunk following nosily behind her.
A few of the men and women's eyes flicked towards her, but quickly went back to staring into the space in front of them. Xevera stepped in front of the eighth fireplace on her left, turning towards a small, round-shouldered man. She was about to step into the ornate fireplace, when he stuck out a stubby hand to stop her.
'Where do you think you're going,' he said in a surprisingly gruff voice. 'Norwich please.'
'I see,' he said thoughtfully, pausing for a moment. 'That'll be…. One Galleon.'
'Excuse me?'
'One Galleon.'
'W-w-what?' Xevera spluttered, the smile instantly disappearing from her face. 'It costs money?' James hadn't told her this! Although mind you, he probably didn't think she'd be flooing anywhere either. She was only 11; I mean for god's sake, she hadn't even gone to Hogwarts yet. To her credit she had flooed once before, from Amber Cottage to Shell Cottage, but it was free, and she hadn't been alone.
'Course you gotta pay. This isn't some homeless transport,' he chortled. Xevera's heart dropped into her throat. There was no way she was getting to Hogwarts, or home for that matter. 'Of course you've got to pay,' she muttered to herself. How could she have so stupid, she wondered, letting her mind wander back to the 50 galleons in her Gringott's account. She didn't really move for a few minutes, still trying to get over the initial shock, letting the floo man stand there awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. The man let out a defeated sigh, tired of having to see Xevera staring out into space, totally unaware of her surroundings.
'Where you going?' He asked in a bored tone. 'To a friend's house. I'm hoping they can get me to King's Cross.'
'And your parents-'
'Not here,' she interrupted uncomfortably. The man shifted a bit more, disgruntled, looking her up and down. 'How old are you?'
'11,' she sighed nervously, scared he'd deny her because of her being not only underage, but of not having even learned any magic yet. 'Look,' he whispered, reaching into his pocket, 'Not technically supposed to do this.'
He pulled out a shiny, gold galleon, pulled out her arm, and pressed the coin into her hand discretely. 'Ah, I see you have the money to pay,' he said, loudly, taking the galleon right back, He stared at her for a moment, giving her an awkward smile. He clearly didn't form his face into something even mutually close to this very often. He dropped a bit of the light green floo powder into her hand, quickly turning away to struggle with the task of pushing her heavy trunk into the fireplace.
'Bloody hell!' Xevera cried, still shell-shocked. 'Thank you Mister floo man!' She cried out once more, jumping into the fireplace. 'Whatever,' he mumbled, granting Xevera to give him one last thankful look, before gripping her trunk and throwing down her floo powder, yelling out, 'Norwich!'
Suddenly, the telefloo and the small floo man spun away from view, letting her spin quickly, green flames engulfing her, before she stumbled out of another fireplace, a green glare bugging her eyes. This telefloo looked exactly the same as the last one, except now she found herself face to face with a cheerful lady.
'Hi sweetie,' she smiled at Xevera as she stepped out of the fireplace. 'Looking for your parents?' She lugged Xevera's trunk out of the fireplace. She was a young, pretty girl that was fairly tall, with long, curly blonde hair that was pulled back into a high ponytail. 'Heh…. Funny story…. Uh, no.'
'Oh,' the girl said, clearly off guard. 'But,' Xevera quickly recovered, 'My… er… Uncle should be somewhere around.' She tucked her hands behind her back, plastered on a smile, and enlarged her eyes, hoping the "cute" look would work in her favor. 'Oh, okay,' she bounced back, now eyeing Xevera's trunk. 'That looks awfully heavy for one little girl,' the lady pouted, as Xevera tried to not react to the "little girl" comment. 'Here,' she flicked her wand, a silver trolley appearing, as the girl flicked her wand once more, levitating Xevera's trunk onto the cart. 'Whether your uncle is a block away, or a mile away, when this cart loses use for an hour, it will appear back here.'
'Okay then, thank you.'
Xevera was just dazing over her unbelievable luck, waiting for there to be a catch, and as she pushed the trolley out of the telefloo, she found that catch. It was absolutely pouring here as well, if not worse. 'No,' Xevera groused, 'Definitely worse.'
After an hour of rambling on her way, Xevera was beyond exhausted. Even on a trolley, the trunk was damned heavy, and the fact that she was as wet as if she'd jumped into the ocean didn't help. She looked down at her watch, silently thanking herself that it was waterproof, to see that it was still early, 7:32. Positive that she was halfway there, at this rate she would be there around eight o' clock.
She had had a good hour of walking, and for such a tiny girl in the current circumstances, Xevera walked bloody fast. She noticed, (in all that she could, since generally when you're concentrated on a task you don't notice much,) that the grass had slowly grown taller.
'Sh-sh-shit!' Her teeth were chattering, and at this point, that was the last thing she needed. But after another half-hour of chattering, wheezing, and aching, she finally was standing in front of her destination, as gallons of water continued to pour down on her.
It was a fairly large house, made out of old, rustic bricks. It had a large chimney, and the house had to contain at least four levels, even from this far down its pebbling path, it was a very vintage looking house.
'Amber Cottage,' Xevera smiled to herself.
It was just about eight o' clock in the morning, and Angelina Weasley was downstairs, brewing herself a cup of coffee. She rubbed her tired eyes, thinking to herself about how ridiculous it was that she was up this early. She reminded herself that she was lucky that she didn't get up even earlier. Fred and herself, with George's self-proclaimed "help", had made sure everything was in place so that they could just get out the door, unlike the Potters. She smiled to herself, as she knew, as everyone else knew really, that the Potters always did everything last minute.
On top of it all, she didn't have to work for the next month. Angelina played as a chaser on the Hollyhead Harpies, (along with Ginny,) and practice didn't start until then.
Angelina knew that George would sleep all day if she didn't wake him up, so she called out, 'George!' Nothing. 'George!' After a few seconds, she heard a loud groan. 'Wha-at?' He called out, much like a very annoyed child. 'You have to be up in the next hour,' she called, and was greeted by silence.
No doubt George was now trying to convince himself that he could fall back asleep now. She knew very well though that he'd be getting ready in the next 15 minutes, defeated.
Rain pounded down on the house, as Angelina watched the storm rage on outside. She was sitting at the large mahogany kitchen table, when she heard a faint tapping. Angelina chose to ignore this, as it could just be part of the storm, so she sipped her coffee, instantly regretting it as the hot muggle liquid burnt her tongue.
Arthur had given them a coffee maker last Christmas along with bags of coffee beans, as he was obsessed with anything muggle. So Angelina and Fred would use it once in a while, as to not upset him, even though they found it to be completely disgusting. Letting the cup of coffee now simply warm her hands, there were more urgent taps.
'Who in Merlin's name would be knocking on our front door at this time of day?' Angelina muttered to herself, making her way towards the tapping, which she found to be the front door. She peeped open the door and gasped, 'George! Get down here!'
Standing outside, shivering violently was Xevera Zillia. Her clothes were matted to her body, wet, as well as the hair that was just visible from under her hood, and sitting next to her was the large trunk that Victoire and her family had given to her for her birthday.
From right behind her, George blasted down the stairs in a dark green t-shirt and jeans, wand in hand. Just a minute ago, George Weasley had heard what he thought was his wife's cries for help. He had run down the stairs after having just changed into some clothes, and had whipped his wand out, expecting an intruder. Instead he had found Angelina with the door open.
She widened her eyes when she saw him, and bopped her head towards the door several times. George was utterly confused, not knowing what the hell she was saying, although he was sure that if he were a woman, he'd know exactly what she was trying to communicate. Angelina rolled her eyes at George's clueless face, poking her head back out the door, now joined by a shocked George.
'H-h-hi Angel-l-l-lina a-and G-G-George,' Xevera chattered. 'Merlin's beard Xevera! What're you doing here?' Angelina exclaimed, giving her an incredulous look. 'It's a b-bit of a l-l-long st-story.'
'Well I'd like to hear that story,' said Angelina in a rather bossy tone, placing a hand on her waist. 'For God's sake Angelina, let the poor kid in. She's only been eleven for a week.' George burst out, sounding a lot more annoyed than he had intended.
Feeling immediately guilty, Angelina noticed that Xevera was now gripping the trunk, just so she could stand. 'Oh my god I'm so sorry, Xevera please, come in, quickly now.' But Xevera merely trembled, as George and Angelina looked at her expectantly, watching the rain gush down on her.
She laughed in a slightly delirious manner, 'F-funny you sh-sh-sh-should m-mention that, you see…. I can't f-f-feel my l-legs,' she ended lamely, smiling weakly. 'Oh jeez, George-,'
'On it,' he was already out the door, picking her up. Angelina followed suit, dragging the trunk into the house, and in the ten seconds she and George had spent in the rain, they were soaked. Angelina immediately ran to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, running back into the hall to rap the towel around Xevera the best she could. George currently had her legs wrapped around his waist, holding on, with her head draped over his right shoulder, as her tiny form still shook vigorously.
For her age, she was small, maybe 4'9, and it wasn't hard to mistake her as someone's younger sister, except for that fact that she used constant profanity.
'I'm cold,' she sobbed, burying her face into George's shoulder, George felt his shoulder suddenly become warm, making him pray that what he was feeling were tears. Angelina and George gave each other helpless faces, so Angelina went around to wipe Xevera's face off with her thumbs. 'Look, honey? We're going to stick you in our bed,
('Wait, our bed? Excuse me?')
And we'll all lie down while you tell us what happened.' Angelina said sweetly, remembering the last time she talked like this to Fred, when he had lost his wand, except this time she didn't feel the ulterior motive to kill. George carried her upstairs, with Angelina stroking her hair all the way. When they entered the bedroom, tears continued to streak down Xevera's face, but she couldn't help but let her eyes widen.
It was a large bedroom with tall windows that were accompanied by silky, dark blue drapes. They had a large bed that hand an intricately carved wooden frame, with gold accents. It had big, thick white blankets that had embossments of black trees and branches. Photos hung all over the walls, showing friends, and family, and Xevera was surprised to spot quite a few of herself. There was a grand, wooden fireplace, and the walls were painted a dark blue, just like the curtains.
What caught Xevera's eye was hanging over the fireplace, a large photo of Angelina, George, and their son, Fred. Of course, all the photos were moving, so the family smiled and waved at everyone, once in a while squabbling with each other. Everything just somehow worked with each other.
Upon entering the room, Angelina pointed her wand at the fireplace and lit a fire, while George laid Xevera under the covers in the middle, leaving George and Angelina to lie on either side. They all lay for a few minutes, letting Xevera warm up, while in the mean time Angelina kept trying to communicate to George with her eyes. George kept trying to silently communicate that he was of the male race, so he couldn't understand what the hell she was trying to tell him.
Finally Xevera mumbled, 'My parents wouldn't take me to Hogwarts, so they said if I wanted to get there, I'd have to do it myself.'
'How did you get here,' George tried to sooth, letting Angelina stroke her hair. 'Well I live about 20 miles outside Central Corrykinloch, so I walked a little under a mile to the nearest bus stop.' George shot Angelina a confused look, before she mouthed, 'muggle transport.' George nodded, but in his head he thought, oh now you convey in a way I can comprehend.
'I took the bus to the telefloo, and flooed over to Norwich.' She paused, deciding in that moment not to mention the floo man. 'Then I walked here.'
'D-d-did your parents know that you'd have to do all that?' Angelina asked, already alarmed, and not sure she really wanted to know the answer. But Xevera nodded, causing Angelina and George to turn their faces to each other, Angelina's one of horror and George's completely livid. 'Um, can I get a ride to King's Cross?'
'Oh of course!' Angelina said quickly, 'But-' and then, something very weird happened, that caused her to look up at George in shock, and Xevera to give her a confused look.
George looked down at Xevera, and it took all that he had in him not to gasp. Xevera's face seemed to be practically melting away. Her skin went from lightly tanned, to pale, and her cheekbones rose a bit more, going at an ever so slight angle. Her almond hazel eyes enlarged to a blue that was streaked with green and brown, and her usually thin lips became pinker and fuller. Her face became less pointed and sunken, to soft and full. Her nose became smaller and less turned up, and a tiny scar formed by her left eye. Her hair slowly shrunk back into her head, making it shoulder length, straight and brown, instead of waist length, wavy and strawberry blonde. She had an overall, prettier and cuter appearance. It wasn't hard to figure out, even if it was shocking. A dramatic psychological event, and a changing of a appearance...
'Xevera,' Angelina whispered, completely blown away. 'Are you a… Metamorphmagus?'
'Maybe?' she smiled sheepishly. 'And you didn't tell us, why?'
'Well I thought maybe all wizards could morph, but then my cousin convinced me otherwise, telling me it was a bad thing.'
'Hang on, is that the dumbass from-' George started, but recoiled at the look his wife was giving him. 'Well sweetie, it certainly isn't very common, but it's not a bad thing at all.'
'Yeah, totally! I mean now think about what you and Fred can do at Hogwarts! With all of our wit and maniacal ways, my products, your morphing, the trouble caused will-' but once again George was stopped by another look he was receiving from Angelina. 'What I'd like to know,' Angelina started, keeping her eyes on George, 'Is why you've been going around with a different appearance.' Xevera took a deep breath, looking up at Angelina and George, ' I never really looked like either of my parents, and I've always been so certain they were disappointed.' Tears began quickly racing down her face, but she didn't make a sound. It was so quiet from shock and sorrow that you could hear a cooked pea drop on carpet. And that's saying something.
'We think you're even more beautiful just the way you are,' George whispered sadly. It was odd seeing the usually happy girl so upset, she had seemed to never be sad once in her entire life. 'And,' Angelina added, trying to sound cheerful, 'We want you to go to school, exactly like this, not with a changed appearance, unless of course your hair changes color due to emotion, as all metamorphmagi do. I understand you were probably planning to keep your disguise, but I think it's somehow a good thing.'
Xevera nodded, but kept her head concealed in the blankets, as Angelina wrapped her up in a tight hug, allowing George to do the same thing from the other side. After a good five minutes of staying like this, they heard a very muffled Xevera say, 'I love you guys, and I really appreciate all of this. But er, how do I put this? I can't breathe.'
'Silly, that's the point,' George smirked, his voice heavily laced with sarcasm. The three broke into giggles as George and Angelina gently released, with slightly wet fronts. But as soon as they had rolled off the bed, Xevera was snoozing off, clearly utterly exhausted.
Keeping his voice level and quiet, George whispered, 'I swear, the minute I get my hands on those parents-'
'Oh shush George.' The couple had now joined up in the walk in closet, as Angelina laid a hand on her husband's shoulder, and another on his chest. 'Come on Angelina, at this rate she could be taking drugs by her third year, and her parents wouldn't really give a shit, only caring about what it does for their image.' George shout-whispered, giving Angelina an opportunity to raise an eyebrow at him.
'I think you're over reacting with the whole "drug" thing and not giving Xevera the benefit of the doubt. She's a smart girl and keeps her wits about her. And you smoked all of Hogwarts.'
'And I wonder where I got them?'
'Well they don't affect wizards! My point exactly!' George still looked at Xevera through the crack in the closet door, before Angelina caressed the side of his face, turning it back towards her. His face softened at her touch, he never got this heated, she thought as grinned up at him.
He really didn't look a day older than when they had gotten married now that she thought about it, which had been right after the war, Fred's birth not coming long afterwards. She remembered the family being disappointed because they hadn't had a big, frou-frou wedding. She also remembered that Fred and George at Bill and Fleur's wedding before the war had vowed that they wouldn't have a big wedding, in order to avoid having to wear uncanny clothing and everyone having to flit around. He just had become leaner and faintly more chiseled as the years had passed. Thankfully, none of the five Weasley boys, except Percy, had seemed to catch onto their father's gene of balding, as George still had a thick head of red hair. On top of it all, his ear had come back, all because of some genius at St. Mungo's. She couldn't help but stare at it for a few seconds everyday, beyond grateful.
'It'll be okay, we love her and that's all that matters.' He nodded slowly, staring at her with a smile. She smirked, sizing up his dazed expression. 'What?'
'Just think you're beautiful is all.' He threw his hands up in the air dramatically, 'You can take me away now, lock me up in Azkaban!' She gave him a crooked smile, not indulging him in a true reaction, 'You're so weird.'
She was just changing her shirt, pulling down a new one when she heard from behind, 'Been working a lot lately, haven't exactly had much time for us.' She paused for a moment, reconsidering his words. Damn straight he hadn't. She pretended not to be listening, undressing and redressing, knowing it would absolutely torture him. 'I well-' he caught his breath as she "remembered" that she needed new underclothes, stripping down entirely. Bingo, he had given her just the reaction she was looking for.
It was true, George had been so wallowed up in his work lately, that they had had no alone time, to the point that Angelina couldn't even remember the last time he had said "I love you." Mind you, that had always been a rarity anyways.
She had now dressed, and whipped around at him, hoping to give him a shock, but Angelina received the surprise. His face was just inches from hers, and he slipped a hand around her waist, pulling. She tried to hide the fact that she felt like a teenager, and felt she was doing well, keeping up a frustrated face. But George had known Angelina only too long, and was able to see right through it.
'Haven't said it in a while but,' he looked into her eyes, making his heart skip a beat, 'I love you,' and with that he pulled her in closer, kissing her softly on the lips, savoring every moment, as Angelina's arms snaked their way around his neck. Things were just heating up a bit more as George worked his hands down, when she pushed away, laughing and rolling her eyes. 'You are unbelievable.'
'Sorry no, I'm George,' he beamed, earning him a look as they snuck out of the room, letting Xevera sleep on. 'Nine o' clock. Think we should wake Fred and tell him?'
'Tell me what?' George and Angelina spun around to face their son Fred, who was already dressed, hands in his jean pockets. 'Er, I think I'm going to play, er, some cricket. Man cricket. For ages 20 and up, so don't follow,' George rushed, dashing down the stairs, undoubtedly to what he referred to as his "man cave." Great, thought Angelina, leave me to do the talking, very funny George, absolutely hilarious.
'Hey there sweetheart,' She said quietly, taking him by the shoulders, beginning to steer him away from the room. 'Mum wha-'
'Good nights sleep?'
'Would you-'
'Yes I agree.'
'Excuse me-'
'Mmm.'
'Listen-'
'Oh yes, a nice hot breakfast.'
'But-'
'Shh.'
'Mum-'
'Cereal?'
'Uh-'
'Oh you're right that's cold.'
'Well-'
'Porridge?'
'Hey-'
'Pancakes?'
'You know-'
'Waffles?'
'Mum!' They were now in the downstairs kitchen, Fred having just been pushed into a chair. He looked just like George, except his red hair was a bit deeper, and he had clear, tanner skin, with his clear blue eyes, just like his dad's. He was an extremely good-looking boy.
She could feel herself weaken a bit at the knees under his glare, and gave in, 'Xevera's upstairs.' Instantly Fred's eyes lit up, 'Well why didn't you say so?' Fred exclaimed, jumping up only to be pushed back down by Angelina. 'She's asleep, and not in a joking condition.' Angelina went on to explain what Xevera had told them, and the whole thing with the Metamorphmagus situation.
He gasped in all the right places, sometimes whispering things like, "bloody hell," or, "bollucks," and even at one point, "Wicked! Maybe at school we can-" but on that one time he had stopped himself when he was granted a particularly stern look from him mum. When Angelina had finally stopped, taking in a deep breath, there was an awkward pause. The two just stared at each other, each waiting for the other to talk first, until Fred finally murmured, 'Bloody hell, that's brutal. Mind you, the morphing will come in handy, with her small size. Maybe I should follow dad's advice and-' He stopped himself quickly as he was saved yet another death glare from his mother, as his father came into the room who froze and gave a small wave when he saw his wife boring two holes into him.
'You're giving them advice on causing trouble?' Angelina fumed. George rubbed the back of his neck, standing up to his full, tall height. He stayed right where he was, not daring to go near his wife. 'Well you don't want them to turn into pompous prats like Percy. Do you?'
'No but that doesn't mean they have to go and blow up the school!'
'Oh come on Angie,' Angelina couldn't help but flinch at the pet name that he had given her at Hogwarts in their seventh year when they had- never mind. 'Do you honestly think that I can send my child to Hogwarts and not expect him to cause as much trouble as me?'
'Or worse,' Fred piped in, earning him a resentful look from his mother. 'Filch must hate you, with the amount of detentions you and your friends have gotten. And I don't want the same for Xevera.'
'Oh please, with Xevera there we're bound to get twice the amount of detentions.' Angelina looked directly at Fred as if to say, "Excuse me?" Giving George an opportunity to do a small fist pump. 'Filch takes it all in good fun,' Fred defended. 'Oh yeah, I'm sure the three of you will all be the best of pals by the end of the school year,' replied Angelina, rolling her eyes dramatically. 'Isn't there any shame for either of you?' But neither of the two replied, only looking down, pretending to be guilty, and not doing a very good job of it as they kept sneaking glances at each other to smirk.
Angelina gave up, arms crossed, hip popped, glaring at George, she said, 'Upstairs, wake up Xevera and say hello.' Making it very clear by her tone that this was directed to Fred, even though she not once took her eyes off George. This would be a very long day.
It was 10:45, and platform nine and three quarters was already packed with first years shedding many tears, students getting their trunks on the train, saying hello to their friends, and saying last farewells to their families while checking to see with their mums that they had everything. Xevera had already gotten her trunk on the train with help from Fred, and was searching through the crowd, desperately for two particular faces, and one had just been spotted.
Mia Niss was just placing her trunk on the train, her hazel eyes clearly frustrated, with her golden-brown hair heeding to this fashion. Xevera quickly saw Mr. and Mrs. Niss, but it was extremely hard not to. The muggle parents stuck out like sore thumbs, looking extremely uncomfortable as they watched their daughter. She came back to them soon enough, exchanging hugs and kisses, letting them then shuffle back through the portal, clearly disturbed by the lack of normality. Xevera assumed by the short departure that the family had done the goodbyes the night before. Mia scurried back into the crowd, her eyes searching, clearly looking for a familiar face.
As soon as Mia's eyes land on Xevera, they widened to the point where Xevera was worried they'd engulf her entire face. The girls had gone to the same muggle school, making the possibilities of them both being witches as slim as Twiggy. Them going to the same school also made Mia Xevera's only friend that knew the secret that knew what she really looked like.
'XEVERA!' Mia screamed, running towards her, 'You're alive!' She jumped on top of Xevera, sending them both towards the ground. 'That might not be true much longer,' Xevera groaned, shoving her friend off of her with as much love as possible while sending a disgruntled look, making up for the shove by hugging her properly once they had gotten up. 'Dude, you're-you're-'
'Normal looking I know, you don't look too shabby yourself.' Mia continued looking her up and down, ignoring the snide, but joking, comment. 'Does anyone else know what-'
'No except you because you're specialful.' Mia smiled, 'Is that even a real word?'
'It is now,' Xevera beamed. 'It's quarter to, find the others and get a compartment. I'll find Victoire.'
'Others?' Mia raised an eyebrow, contemplating what the hell that was supposed to mean. 'Just find a compartment with a couple lonely blokes, it'll be fine!' Xevera called, already heading back into the crowd.
She couldn't wait to see how Victoire would react, but she wouldn't have to wait long, as she now the tall girl in the crowd, saying goodbye to her frazzled parents, and a very unhappy Dominique.
Xevera skipped over catching the eyes of Victoire's parents. Fred and Angelina had told the whole incident to the entire Weasley-Potter family, but had only told the adults, deciding Xevera could tell the children when she wanted to. So when Bill and Fleur saw her, they tried to keep their faces neutral.
It was true that they didn't know Xevera's actual appearance, but it was easy enough to figure out. No one else in their bloody right mind skipped that enthusiastically at this time of day.
Once Xevera had placed herself behind Victoire, she pushed a chunk of the slivery blonde hair into her face. The reaction was immediate, Victoire spun around, her narrowed eyes spotting Xevera and looking her up and down, until her face plastered on an all too fake, obnoxious smile. 'Excuse me, but may I ask what you think you're doing?' She kept her hands behind her back, most likely in fists, and kept a nasty grin on her face. When Xevera talked, it was hard not to laugh, 'Come on Vic, that's no way to talk to you best friend.' Victoire's face soon melted into annoyed confusion. 'I-'
'Was just going to go and say hello to Peppy? I say that's a splendid idea!' Xevera grinned at her, as realization dawned on her face.
'Oh my god, no way! You-you-you have a face!' Victoire spluttered, fanning her hands out and waving them in front of her own face.'
'Yeah,' began Xevera, an amused look on her now apparent to Victoire face, 'People tend to have those.' Victoire continued to splutter and stutter, making dramatic hand gestures, causing herself look like she was having a small seizure. 'I'll leave her to you,' Xevera mouthed to Bill, turning on her heel, intending to get on the train.
But as we all know, things never seem to go as planned, as someone grabbed her arm, giving it a good yank before she could even plant herself a nice yard away from the train. She looked up to see Fred to be the source of the yank, and Angelina and George as the supporters. 'What was that for?' Xevera cried, rubbing the now sore part of her arm. Fred gave a quick nod towards his parents, and then muttered, 'The boys and I will see you on the train,' before running off.
'Thought you could get away before we said goodbye, did you?' George asked in mock amusement. 'Oh,' Xevera mumbled as they smiled at her. She had never had this before, from anyone quite frankly. Last year her parents had sent her over to an American sleep away for a summer, since she had always wanted to go to summer camp. Her dad had dropped her off, not daring to go and walk her into the airport since it was raining and he didn't want to get his hair wet.
'Well, bye,' she said, giving them both a quick awkward hug. Some feeling was welling up inside of her, and she wasn't able to identify it, nor did she like it. Sensing the awkwardness, George decided to end on a high mark, even if it meant getting uncountable death glares within the next five minutes.
'Oh by the way, Fred has products that need testing, and I'll be sending stuff by owl too.' He tried his hardest to keep a straight face when he got a peek of his wife's face out of the corner of his eye. 'I also put some stuff in your trunk-'
'You did WHAT?' Angelina practically screamed, for the first time earning her a couple of strange looks. But before there could be any further fighting, the whistle to the train blew, and everyone was being shoved on. Everyone stuck their heads out of the window, saying goodbye, as the train began to slowly pull away. 'Send us loads of owls,' Angelina said to Fred and Xevera, placing a loving hand on each of their faces.
'Send us a Hogwarts toilet seat!'
'George!'
'Only joking hon.' But the last thing was barely audible, as the train now was off, making everyone small, insignificant dots.
So I hope that chapter was likable. I realize that the ages don't really make sense whatsoever, but for the sake of the story, I decided that you guys can let it slide. Please, PLEASE review! Tell me what you think (I truly hope it's positive)
~ Paule
(You should all know that that's the french way for a girl to have the name "Paul")
