Author's Note:: Hello my readers! I really hope you like this chapter. I honestly can not express how nervous I am about this story! I have no idea if more than three people like it! D: Here's hoping for the best, because I really like the idea I have going for it!
Also! Shout out to gold-starlet786 for being my only reviewer! That means the world to me! Hope you got my thank you message!
Chapter Two:: Finally Home.
Hogwarts. Second Year. Hallway.
"I'm tellin' ya, Fred, she's a mad woman! No one knows much about her, and I swear I'd never noticed her before!" George exclaimed, walking along side his twin on their way to potions.
"Fireworks, AND enchanted scissors? I bet she was royally pissed at you for putting her prank on Snape!" Fred grinned proudly at his brother, "Honestly glad I wasn't there. Cleaning cauldrons is slave work!"
"I couldn't agree more, brother! But I swear she's fiery! Could kill if she was mad enough! Though it is down right hilarious."
Fred continued to grin at his brother, "You're thinking something wicked, George."
"Right you are, Fred, right you are!"
And as fate would have it, George spotted Pen the second they walked into potions. Bumping Fred with his elbow, he inclined his head toward her. Without a word they both moved to the desk beside her's. Pen was completely ignorant of their presence, jotting down notes on a piece of parchment. Grinning, George leaned over the space between their desks. Did he whisper in her ear? Nooo...
"HEY!"
Pen jumped violently, her quill making a large, black scratch across her parchment. Shoulders tense, Pen slowly turned toward a still-grinning George. Squinting silently, she slammed her quill down, stood up, and slammed her other hand on Fred and George's desk. Both brothers, still unable to stop smiling, leaned away from her and closer together. In unison they sing-songed, "Hello~"
Before anything else could happen, Snape walked into the room, and Pen was forced to retreat back to her seat. Fred leaned closer to George, "You're right George, she is fun! Temper though... Could result in some dangerous pranks!"
The twins looked at each other, speaking again in unison, "Even better!"
No potions were to be brewed today, and instead Snape droned on, and on about ingredients. About ten minutes into class, George tossed a note, and a sucker onto Pen's parchment. Glancing at the twins, both sending her a thumbs-up, she opened the small note.
'To make up for your ruined parchment! It's cherry! ;)'
Not trusting them one bit, Pen examined the sucker carefully. It didn't have any shop logo on it, and it made her wonder where they'd gotten it. She looked back to the twins, who only rolled their eyes. George held out his hand under the table. "If you don't want it, then?"
Feeling challenged, Pen ripped off the plastic, and stuck it into her mouth. Rolling her tongue over it, there was no denying it was the best candy she'd ever had. Then the noise reached her ears, and she froze. The twins were giggling. Without moving, refusing to let them know she acknowledged she'd been duped, she glanced down at her shoulder. Her hair was PINK!
The twins watched as Pen turned to glare at them. Then, for a split second her expression was blank, indifferent. Then they both watched, speechless, as Pen's eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she collapsed from her chair onto the floor.
"What's happening over there?"
Both twins shot out of their seats, "Merlin's beard! We didn't mean too! It was supposed to turn her hair pink!"
George looked up at Snape, frantic and afraid, "I swear I wouldn't have given it to her if I'd known it would do this! It worked fine on me!"
Snape crouched down and yanked the sucker from Pen's mouth. Her hair returned to it's blonde color, but she stayed unconscious on the floor. Snape examined her for a second, then stood up again and took hold of George's ear. "You'll accompany me to my ingredients closet, and get a bezoar for her, now."
As they left the room, Fred dropped to the floor beside her, scared out of his wits. The second he was there, Pen was already sitting up, smirking. "Serves you two right, but mostly George because it was obviously his idea!"
Fred stared at her, mouth agape. "You...you..."
"Yes, I, I, I." Pen smiled proudly as the rest of the class started to snicker, some only sighing and returning to their seats. Pen stood up, and stretched lazily. Fred stood up too, grinning.
"Fred Weasley!" He grabbed her hand, and shook it, "Pleased to meet you! That was fantastic!"
The Burrow. Six Months After The War. Walking Into The Living Room.
"Okay! That's it! I don't care if I explode, I will have five helpings of EVERYTHING at dinner! There will be no left overs for him!" Stamping down the stairs, I stormed into the living room in a huff.
"Pen? Normally you'd be talking about beating him to a pulp!"
Shocked at the voice, I looked up to find I was being watched by Percy. He was looking at me with astonishment, and I knew why. Currently I was wearing black dress trousers, a dark blue v-neck blouse with a white undershirt, and plain black boots. I was dressed completely plain, and that was not how I was. Then there was also the fact that my hair looked like I had been hit by a tornado. I hadn't seen Percy in six months, but I was too mad to care.
"Wind bombs! Wind bombs!" Wind bombs had been my idea in fourth year, "He hit me with my own invention!"
For a moment we were both silent, but then Percy started chuckling. He completely threw me for a loop when he walked forward and hugged me. "Good to see you. But I see your luck has been down!"
I sighed again, feeling tired. My first day back, I'd been in his room twice, and he'd turned my hair into a rat's nest. Pulling out my wand, I fixed my hair before casting a smile at Percy.
"I hear somebody loves his new job?" Percy motioned for me to sit, and we both settled into the couch.
"Yes, I love it! We're really making progress. Everything is almost back to normal." Almost.
We chatted idly for a few minutes, and I found Percy to be funny, open, and...funny. Maybe the war had brought on good changes, too. Our conversation died down into an amiable silence, and finally I couldn't ignore the tension.
"Does he ever come out?"
"No."
"When did this start?"
"He's been like this ever since... He didn't confine himself to his room until after the funerals."
"Really?" I had no idea, but I was sure there had been some time between the end of the war, and the funerals. There had been a lot of people to bury.
"Yeah..." There was something Percy wasn't telling me.
"Does he say anything at all?" Percy shook his head, "Did he before he stuck himself up there?"
"...that he was tired of waiting."
It was a large knife. It was sharp, pointy, jagged, and it planted itself right into my heart. It was why I hadn't wanted to come back. I didn't want to come back, because I never should've left. Looking back at the stairs, I thought of all the times I'd climbed them. I'd almost always been at the burrow with my friends, and we'd always known how to have fun.
Maybe that was our problem; we could make a joke out of everything. Even during the war we'd kept our spirits up. We'd made jokes when George lost his ear, and it had never seemed like a horrible thing when it was bandaged up. The war had been a horrible thing. We were young, and even though we knew it was a risk, I doubt we really thought we would die. We saw others get hurt, others die, but never us. It was a painful lesson to learn.
-)()()()()()(-
So the company at the dinner table consisted of Mrs. Weasley, myself, Percy, and Mr. Weasley. They were so cheerful, and very kind to me. It was more formal than the last time I'd seen them, but why wouldn't it be? I couldn't tell how any of them really felt. The only thing I knew for sure was that they were worried about George. What I couldn't tell, was how they felt about me. George was livid, and I'm sure he would have been so even without the horrible loss he'd had. So there's no way they weren't upset. I could just keep staying here with these unsaid things floating around. The room was full of them. This family had been through so much, they deserved more comfort than anyone else in the world. I put my fork down.
"Would anyone like to say anything?"
The conversation between Mr. Weasley and Percy stopped, all eyes were on me.
"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Mrs. Weasley smiled, taking another bite of potatoes.
"I left. I left not even five hours after it was over."
They were silent for what felt like a lifetime. I was staring into my drink when Mrs. Weasley spoke again.
"Everyone deals with loss in a different way. We all know that very well." I looked up and Mrs. Weasley smiled at me again, a real smile. I returned it, an ache in my throat growing until Percy added to the moment.
"Actually I would like to say that you didn't have to teach your little sister how to punch. She bruised my pretty badly!"
Everyone at the table laughed, and I finally felt home again.
-)()()()()()(-
It was midnight, and I couldn't sleep. I could only guess it was the changing of time zones, but that knowledge didn't help me fall asleep either. Staring up the ceiling, I couldn't just lay there anymore. It wasn't like I had expected to sleep anyway, I hadn't even changed into pajamas. Barefoot, I quietly made my way up the staires, knowing the entire house was asleep.
I pushed open the door to his room silently, tiptoeing in because I knew he was asleep. He didn't face the fall defiantly, he was covered up on his stomach, hugging his pillow close to his head. Moving over to the desk beside his bed, I sat down in the chair. Feeling a bit like a creeper, watching him while he slept, I turned my eyes to the window. Even this room smelled the same, almost. It didn't smell like potion explosions like it always had. The memory made me smile, and I sighed, wondering if my being here could do any good.
My spine tensed when I started feeling watched. When I looked back at George, he hadn't moved, but his eyes were open.
"You're awake."
"Get out."
"That anxious to see my backside?" I quoted him from our first detention together, and swore I saw his mouth twitch. No smile yet. Yet.
"You're clothes are ugly."
I could only smile, and give a slight laugh out of my nose. Leave it to George to cut to the chase. Things were silent again, and we simply just looked at each other. They weren't the same, things between us. In the past we could lounge for hours without saying a word. But I doubted that George saw a friend when he looked at me.
"How's the shop?"
George snorted, and I knew he was thinking, 'You came back just to ask that?'. "I don't care."
"Bullshit."
"And you would know, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah, I would know."
"Bullshit." And with that, George turned around to face the wall. I hoped maybe he'd turn around again, even to just fight. He didn't, so I did what I knew he wanted and left him alone. I shut the door, but felt that maybe we'd taken that first step. Maybe. I had no clue what I was doing, but I couldn't leave again. It was hard last time, but it would be impossible now.
It was also impossible for me to help him now. I had to find out what had happened after I left. I didn't know anything, I didn't even know where the graveyard was. I had a lot of work to do.
