Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling. Original characters are the property of me and not to be used without permission.

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The Fractured Fairy Tale

Chapter Three

The Cold Light of Mourning

After a couple hours of fitful sleep, Luna finally gave herself up to the day as the sunrise took the room from pitch black to pink. A glance at the clock showed it to be just past seven and she wondered if George was a light sleeper, or an early riser. Neither of which would bode well for her plan to make a discreet and hasty departure. If he wanted to be man enough to come and hunt her down to ask her why she left, then more power on him. But she was not about to stick around and have him make hasty excuses for why they couldn't see each other again.

As quietly as possible, she slipped out of his arms, rolled to the other side of the bed and sat up next to the small table by the bed. Her head throbbed and she struggled to orient herself, locking her eyes on the first object that came to her through the hangover cloud. Sitting in the middle of the table next to the bed was a large framed photograph, George with a woman Luna recognized as Alicia Spinnett, they were holding Alicia's hand up for the camera - Alicia was wearing an engagement ring.

A sick, disgusted feeling began to press its way from her stomach to her throat and Luna pressed her hand firmly over her mouth while she whirled to her feet.

He was engaged?

She leaned against the wall, trying to calm herself. She hadn't know…she had only been back in Diagon Alley a couple months and she had only had minimal contact with Ginny over the last three years - and then they had better things to discuss than her brothers love life. Yes, she saw Fred and George every day, but they hardly had conversations about each others lives. She had only seen Alicia once or twice.

"It's not my fault" She whispered desperately. "I Didn't know!"

She looked at the bed again to George's sleeping face. How dare he look so handsome, so damned innocent in sleep!

"Damn it!" She spat, swiping up her dress from the floor.

She had just pulled it in place when she heard voices on the stairs, female voices. She tiptoed to the window the peak out, to her horror she saw Angelina arguing with - of all people - Alicia herself.

"Shit!" She groaned to herself, grabbing up her underclothing and stuffing it into her bag along with her mask and shoe, desperate to find the other. She tore at the blankets, the bed, and was about to go into the front room when she heard a key in the door. She closed the door and clicked the lock, looking about wildly, then went to the window again - she had no choice but to leave without it, better the shoe be found than her. Let George deal with the ramifications of his actions, she didn't need to be drug into his mess.

She glared at George for a second more, then quietly slid the window open and eased out onto the stairwell, turned and closed the window behind her in time to see Angelina disappear into the shop. She ducked under the sitting room windows, then tiptoed down the stairs to the safety of the sidewalk, ran down two doors and was inside the security of the Quibbler office before breaking into tears.

It was all starting to get a bit old. George's constant nagging, Angelina and Fred constantly in her face, Ginny's outright hostility. It wasn't as if she was purposely trying to hurt him. If she didn't care about his feelings, she would just outright ditch him. But that wasn't her style. Alicia Spinnett was a fighter, in for a penny, in for a pound her mum had always said, and it was a mantra she had always agreed with. You don't just ditch a good thing because it becomes difficult.

And yet, it was getting tiresome. It was bad enough that George had given her hell before she left two days before, but to come home and find Angelina laying in wait for her too? It was over the line - she would definitely be speaking to George about it.

She put her key in the lock, pushed the door open and was surprised to find that he had slept with his own closed. George was one of those opened door people, even the bathroom, which she found disgusting. Alicia looked around, dismayed at the typical homecoming mess she was treated to - often she thought he did it out of revenge because she'd had the nerve to go off on her own.

She bent down, scooping up the heavy black costume cape from the floor and tossed it over a chair. It was followed by a loud thump. Alicia looked down, prepared to see Georges big, clunky shoes. Instead, she found a clear, sparkly, woman's high heeled shoe.

The first thing he noticed upon waking was the scent on the sheets, the warm musky smell of sex heavy all around him. George opened his eyes and closed them again. The light was brutal, nearly as bad as the dry nasty taste in his mouth. The hangover taste. It hit him then that something was wrong, it was the smell. He shouldn't be smelling sex, Alicia had been gone the night before.

He rolled over, looking at the empty pillow and hoping fervently that perhaps she had returned in the night, maybe as the party in the streets was breaking up. It was all a blur now, but even as he hoped, he remembered. Graceful arms, soft pink lips, dark hair, a blue and green dress.

Holy shit - what had he done?

He sat up, looking around wildly for signs of the woman, instead, he found Alicia, sitting in the chair across the room. She wasn't happy, in fact, it looked as if he might have only narrowly escaped death.

"Alicia…" He sat up as she raised her arm and flung something at his head, it caught him just above the eye, a sharp edge cutting deep into his eyebrow. He felt the warm trickle of blood and reached up to wipe it away.

"You son of a bitch." She glared at him hatefully, her voice barely above a whisper, but no less threatening than if she were screaming. "How could you?"

He glanced down into his lap, finding a woman's shoe, the clear acrylic stiletto heel narrowed down into a sharp point. She could have used it to murder him in his sleep, in retrospect, he should be thankful he had only been caught above the eye with it. He rose from the bed, pulling a sheet with him and wrapping it around him.

"Alicia, I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. I was …"

"You…" She stood from the chair then went to the side of the bed, standing right in front of him "You're going to blame this on being drunk?"

He stared down at her, knowing he was about to do that very thing, even knowing how lame it was. What else could he do, it was the truth.

"It's the truth," He looked at her pleadingly, begging her to believe him. "Alicia, you know I would never do something like this if I were in my right mind."

"Do I?" She shoved him backwards so he landed on the bed "How many other times have there been George? How many others have you brought up here and while I was on the road?"

"Don't be ridiculous," He looked at her, chagrined that she could think he would do such a thing. "You know me better than that. It was just a … I don't know what it was. I was drunk, it was stupid, it didn't mean anything." He put his arms around her and she shoved him away.

"Ugh, get away. You stink like that bitch."

"I'll shower," He offered, going to his dresser for clean clothes. "Can we please talk, please?"

"What is there to talk about?" She turned away, going into the front room.

"Please?"

She glared at him, her eyes deeply hostile, then nodded. He watched her quietly for a minute, then went into the bathroom, turned the water as hot as he could stand it and waited for it to warm.

He pulled the sheet off and tossed it towards the hamper, a smell crossed his nose and he picked it up again. He had missed it before, but there was more than the scent of sex on the sheets, there was her smell. A sweet scent, almost like notes of innocence. He closed his eyes and tried to remember her, he was drawing an almost total blank. He saw dark hair across his pillows, her lips and the feathers of her mask. And her arms, thin graceful arms raised above her head as she danced.

There was nothing else, not the sound of her voice, a picture of her face, not even the memory of how they got from the street to his bed. No, he remembered something else as well, he remembered how good it was being with her, like it was a spiritual encounter rather than physical.

He shook himself, then stepped under the steaming hot shower. He needed to wash it all away, her scent, their scent, the few memories that remained. He was engaged to Alicia, if he had not destroyed everything, they were going to be married as soon as they could make a date work.

But why wait? Why not today? There were members of the lower chamber of the Winzengamot who performed civil weddings. They could be married before Alicia had to go back out on the road tomorrow. Yes, that was the way to go about it, why hadn't they thought of it before? It was their mothers who wanted the big wedding, not them, not really. His mother would be getting her wedding in January when Harry and Ginny got married, she really didn't need his as well. And Alicia had so many brothers and sisters her mother could make up for it with them.

Yes, this was the thing to do. They should have done it in the spring, when their first wedding had to be put off.

He washed quickly, barely toweling dry before he dressed and went out to face Alicia. But when he found her, she was in the bedroom, and she was packing her things.

"Alicia …" She stopped for a minute and looked over her shoulder. The glance scathing and hateful. "I thought you said we could talk."

"I thought so too George, but there is really nothing to talk about. You made your bed, now you need to sleep in it." She turned for the closet and smirked at him hatefully "Excuse the bad pun."

"Don't do this." He went to her side, pulled the hangers from her hands, and tried to pull her close. She was like ice in his arms. Hard and unyielding, bitterly cold. He knew he had it coming, he had done a terrible thing, and yet that little voice was speaking again. She was the one who had abandoned him over and over again. She was the one who kept putting off their wedding, who kept walking out on him time and time again. He forced the voice down. There was no way he could put the guilt for what he had done on her. No matter what she had done, he had no right to be unfaithful.

"We've come too far to just toss everything away, Don't walk out on me again, please."

"Again?" She pulled out of his embrace, like a spitting viper waiting for the right moment to strike, she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face. "Go to hell you bastard!"

Now he was angry. He was willing to dismiss the shoe as an accident, but this was over the line. He had been raised by gentle parents, in twenty -four years he had never seen his mother raise a hand to his father, and he had certainly never seen his father raise a hand to his mother. People who loved one another often argued, he had seen it plenty with his parents, Ron and Hermione, and with Fred and Angelina, even Harry and Ginny argued. But never once, under any circumstances, had he seen one strike the other. When you loved, the last thing you wanted to do was harm the one you loved.

Alicia used cruel words, she had hit him, no matter what he had done, she had gone over the line. Would she have done that if she truly loved him? It seemed pretty easy to do.

"Yes, again." He spoke quietly, moving away from her out of the fear she would hit him again. "You have spent the last year walking out on me, every chance you got."

"This again." Alicia snorted sarcastically "Oh poor little Georgie, left home alone again."

'Belittle me all you want," He shrugged "Now that I think on it, you are just as much to blame for what happened as I am."

Alicia whirled on him, her face had gone bright red. "How dare you blame me!"

"I am willing to accept my culpability for what I did Alicia, it was horrible and stupid. But can you deny that it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been selfish and ran off on me again?"

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the door frame. For the first time he felt like he was seeing things clearly, like he was seeing the real Alicia Spinnett, not the girl she had been at Hogwarts - but the woman she had become. It wasn't a very nice sight.

"Last night was a huge night for me and Fred, the culmination of something we have been working toward for a long time. Was it really asking for that much for you to be here to share it with me?"

She glared at him indignantly, frustrated once again by his lack of understanding "How many times do I have to tell you…"

"Your career!" He yelled, inches in front of her face now. "Always your career! Where do I fit into the picture Alicia? When it is my turn to come in first? You should be happy I slept around, now you can leave and go about your life without me, you don't need to pretend anymore. I won't be holding you back!"

"Grateful?" Alicia shoved him backwards, zipped her bag and tossed it towards the doorway before turning back to glare at him hatefully "Grateful you fucked some whore in our bed, on sheets that we bought together, when I was wearing your engagement ring?" She reared her arm back, ready to let him have it again. George grabbed her wrist and held it tightly, his eyes glaring into hers.

"Don't even think about it." He spoke softly, his voice low and lethal. " I have put up with a lot from you over the past three years, but I will not allow you to hit me again. And don't speak that way about her, you don't even know her."

Alicia let loose a short, sarcastic bark of laughter. "Neither do you."

She pulled her arm free, then reached down and pulled off the diamond ring and lay it in his palm. A strange feeling came over her as she looked at the ring in his hand. A calmness, a peace. She was relieved to have it gone, as it had been a yoke around her neck. They stared into one another's eyes for a long time, both filling with pain as the anger drained away.

He spoke at last "I know you don't believe me, but, I didn't do it to hurt you. It just happened."

She smiled sadly and nodded as she whispered "I know, you're not that sort of person." She reached up and touched his cheek gently, brushing over the red, inflamed outline of her hand. "I'm sorry I hit you."

He nodded "When was the last time you were happy with me?"

She shrugged and turned away to sit in the chair by the bed. "Last year maybe, before things started getting so crazy."

"When we had more time for each other." He agreed and sat on the side of the bed, he dropped the ring into the drawer of the table, then reached over for her hand.

"When did you stop loving me?" She asked, her eyes sad, yet accepting.

"I will always love you Alicia."

"As a friend," She smiled "I don't think we have loved each other that way for a long time. It was too easy for me to leave…"

Her admission brought on his own awareness.

"And my anger over your leaving…it wasn't because I was going to miss you." He gave her hand a tight squeeze and let it go

"I suppose we should just be glad we realized before we were married."

She stood then, bent over and kissed his forehead, just above the cut on his forehead. "I will always love you too George."

She walked to the door and picked up her bag, then she turned back and looked at him sadly. "I'll send someone for the rest."

"I'll pack it up and have it ready."

Alicia smiled sadly, then turned back for the door. "Good bye George. Good luck."

"You too."

He watched her go, then waited for the sound of the closing door before falling back on the bed. It was an oddly empty sound, Alicia leaving for the last time. He knew it should make him feel empty, like a part of him was missing. Instead he felt whole, even relieved. Still, he was melancholy, it was like losing a friend. He knew how it worked, they could never go back to how things had been before they were involved. Despite the amicable break up they had eventually come to, there was still pain and anger. He had plenty of harsh feelings, after what he had done, Alicia was sure to have plenty of her own. If the day was coming that they could be friends again, it was a long time away, far, far down the road.

He fell back on the bed, then shot up again when a sharp jab hit his spine. He twisted around, then dug in the blankets, coming up with the shoe that Alicia had tossed at his head. He fell back against the blankets again, the smell of sex strong in his nose again as he considered it.

Questions came as he watched the shoe sparkle in the sunlight. Who was she and where had she gone - why had she fled? Perhaps she was someone he knew; had she known he was engaged? Maybe she was an out of town relative of someone he knew, maybe she had seen the pictures of him and Alicia. They were right in the open, she would had to be blind to have missed them.

He turned the shoe over and over in his hand, watching the beams of sunlight reflect off the crystals to shine upon the wall in bright sparkles.

Where was she ... would he ever see her again?

The bright cream walls seemed to mock her while she passed, digging out her identification. Charlotte was off today, in her place was Flora, a rather stiff and less friendly sort. It figured, the morning Luna most needed a cheerful face, and all she was greeted with was a half hearted grunt of welcome.

Aunt Cass was still sleeping when Luna tiptoed back to their little flat. She wasn't surprised, they didn't open the office until noon on weekends and Cass liked to laze away her mornings in bed. It was quite easy then for Luna to go to her room, shower and change undetected, then sneak back out again. Aunt Cass might not even know she had been out all night, and if she did, likely she wouldn't say anything. Even if she did, Luna wasn't sure she would find anything particularly wrong with what she had done.

Aunt Cass was the open minded sort, and she had never been much for sticking her nose in her nieces private affairs.

Affair, there was an interesting choice of words for what she had done. Then again maybe not, a one nighter hardly qualified as an affair. A one nighter was cheap, and tawdry. Something only trashy girls did, particularly when the other person was engaged to someone else. She argued vehemently with her conscience while she walked the hall toward her fathers room. It was still early, visiting hours had only just begun, Flora had found her waiting when she opened the door. The ward was quiet, the residents who did not have visitors were still eating breakfast, some still asleep. She knew she should leave her father to his rest, he was getting weaker, only had a few months left. But she needed to be with him today, he was the only one who could make her feel okay, the only one who could take away her pain.

Hurting others was not something that came easily to Luna Lovegood, and intentional or not, she had hurt Alicia Spinnett. In the aftermath of being ditched by Rolf, she knew exactly how Alicia would feel if she found out what they had done, and given the fact that she had left a shoe behind it was sure she would find out. She may not find out who, but she would surely find out what.

"Carina…" Xenophilius smiled up at her, his hand outstretched. Luna shook herself and forced a smile, she had to pretend that everything was okay. Her father may not know her face, but he knew when she was upset.

"Hello Daddy." She crossed and took his hand, then knelt down on the floor by his chair. "How are you feeling today?"

"Very tired, very tired." He sighed with a wave of his hand. "That precious girl likes to keep us up late, doesn't she?"

"Yes," Luna looked away. "I imagine I did."

"It's worth it," He smiled and tightened his hand on hers "She will be the best of us Carina."

"What if she isn't?" Luna looked at him pleadingly, as if begging for forgiveness and the knowledge that it would be okay if she wasn't perfect. "What if she grows up and does bad things? What if she does things that hurt others?"

"Of course she won't." Xenophilius looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "Our Luna has the heart of an angel, she has your heart Carina. A heart that is pure and true."

Luna lay her cheek on his knee and turned her face away to hide her tears. It was like torture, hearing him speak of the future her with such reverence, comparing her to her mother who really was pure of heart. Carina was the one who was truly worthy of his praise.

"She's not who you think she is." She whispered, so softly that she knew he would not hear.

She thought of Alicia again, of the pain she might be suffering even now. Was she crying while he begged her for forgiveness?

"Carina, oh my dearest…" Xenophilius lifted her chin so she had to look into his pale silver eyes. The only thing she had inherited from her father. "Why are you so sad?"

Luna looked at him and said the only thing she could "I want you to be proud of me."

He laughed, a deep, rich laugh that reminded Luna of childhood games in the garden. When he would chase her and her mother around and the first he would catch would be kissed all over the face until they had laughed themselves out of breath. Then, the two would turn and chase down the last, until all three rolled on the grass, their arms twined together.

"I am proud of you darling, I could not be more proud. Look at all you have given me? I know our little Luna is proud of you as well." He patted her cheek, then gave it a little pinch "And when she grows, she will make us proud, you watch and see."

She looked away and nodded, then lay her cheek on his knee again, wondering what he would think if he was in his right mind. Could he still see his beloved Carina in a woman who slept with a man who belonged to someone else? A woman who had used him to spit in Rolf Scamander's eye?

She could try to fool herself all she wanted, but she knew her father. There was nothing more important than family to Xenophilius Lovegood, and knowing that his daughter was partially responsible for bringing a family apart would have made him anything but proud. He would have been ashamed of her.

Luna couldn't blame him. She was ashamed of herself as well.

"So, she just moved out? No reason?" Angelina stared at George incredulously while he threw Alicia's things into boxes. She had not been at all happy with the way she and Alicia had left things that morning - she demanded Alicia stop being selfish and start having some consideration for George's feelings, and Alicia told her to nose out. She had come for the final showdown, to have it out once and for all, only to find that the showdown was over, and Alicia was long gone.

"I don't believe you," Angelina looked at him critically "What did she do this time?"

"That's being a bit unfair don't you think?" Fred said from behind them where he was sorting out pictures, old family pictures from recent pictures, ones he knew George would want to keep, ones he knew George would not mind being rid of. Mostly any of Alicia, particularly ones of her in her Quidditch robes or on a broom. "George can be a right git when he wants to be."

"Fred's right," George nodded towards his brother, thinking again about the shoe that now lay hidden under the rug in his closet. "I can be."

"Look, I have to see Alicia tomorrow," Angelina gave him a warning look "You better not be sending me into a hornets nest. You know I can't keep my mouth shut, not when it comes to you, so if there is something I need to know, you better tell me. You know I don't like surprises."

George stopped for a minute, considering Angelina's words. She wasn't kidding when she said she couldn't keep her mouth shut, Alicia was in for an earful. But how much would Alicia tell Angelina? Would she be ashamed to have anyone know that he had cheated on her, or would she want to make him look bad and herself the injured party? It was a tough call. Alicia liked to look strong and tough, but there was a lot of mileage to be had from playing the woman wronged. Particularly with Angelina Johnson Weasley. She had once thought Fred was messing around and it had gotten quite ugly, even though he had long since proved it to be untrue, there was still this sensitive little part of her that was on edge over the idea.

"Okay, look. You two know how things were between us, neither of us were happy."

Angelina looked at him, her eyes narrowed "You screwed around!"

"I …" He looked at both of them, knowing it was all over his face; why bother to deny it? "Yeah."

Fred lifted his eyebrows, not sure whether to be affronted by his brothers behavior or impressed because he had finally grown a pair and stricken back at how horribly Alicia had treated him for months.

"It was that girl wasn't it? The fancy one with the peacock feathers." Angelina had her arms crossed over her chest, she, like Fred, looked like she couldn't decided whether to congratulate him or pummel him.

"I don't know," He shrugged and turned towards the closet. He pulled up the rug, and then turned around with the shoe. "I think so."

"You think?" Angelina pursed her lips, getting closer to pummeling now. "You don't remember?"

"I can't believe we share the same DNA." Fred tossed a picture of Alicia that he knew George would hate into the keep pile. He owed Alicia at least one dig for this.

"I was drunk, okay? I'm pretty sure she was too - from what I remember." He stood and showed off the shoe "She left this behind though, I am thinking she will come back for it eventually. It looks a bit fancy to just leave behind."

"And what will you do if she comes back?" Fred looked at his brother wish disgust, tossing a couple more pictures of Alicia in Quidditch robes in the keep pile. "Whisk her off into the sunset?"

"I don't know." George dropped the shoe and scooped up the pile of photographs, digging out the ones of Alicia and tossing them in the go box. "Stop that, Alicia is as much to blame for our break-up as I am, she even said so."

"But this girl…" Angelina had pulled out her wand, now she stood with her arms crossed over her chest, tapping the wand on her shoulder, scary looking baby blue flames puffing out the end. "You think it's okay to just use her to get back at Alicia?"

"It wasn't like that. And she didn't exactly say no."

"That you remember." Fred dropped the last of the photographs into Alicia's box and taped it closed. "You better hope mum doesn't catch wind of this."

"Would you two knock it off? Alicia was upset, but after we talked it out we realized it was for the best." He tossed the shoe back into the closet where it fell behind a pair of old boots. "We stopped loving one another a long time ago, we should have let go long before this, so maybe it was a good thing."

"For one of you." Angelina snorted. "Good Lord George, do you know what it is going to be like for me? I have to be on the road with her for the next few months! Ginny too!"

"Well, I am glad you're putting this is the proper perspective Angie." George picked up the picture of him and Alicia, he considered tossing it into the box, then he folded it and put it into a keeper box instead. He picked up the roll of tape and taped the last of Alicia's boxes closed, then minimized the stack and put them in a shoe box. Angelina would be taking them with her tomorrow when she left to meet up with the team.

"I know," Angelina sat down next to him on the sofa "But you have to admit, this is complicated."

"I know."

"Bloody hell George," Fred pulled a handful of butterbeer bottles from the fridge, then passed them out. "There is a woman walking around out there, someone you have been intimate with, and you have no idea who she is. Don't you think that it is just … hell, I don't know, wrong? Personally, I feel it is on so many levels I don't even know where to begin, and I am not even the one who did it. "

"I know, okay?" George sat back, covering his face with his hands. It did feel wrong, wrong on even more levels than Fred could imagine. The worst of it was, even though he remembered next to nothing about her, he felt his attraction to her lingering. He remembered being drawn to her from the moment he lay eyes on her. Even though he remembered almost nothing else. He remembered how it had felt to kiss her, to touch her, to make love to her. He knew that he had never felt anything like it before, he was also sure he would never feel anything like it again - not unless he somehow found her.

That seemed unlikely, he had so little to go on. A hazy memory of what she looked like, and that hidden by a mask. He remembered talking with her, but her voice was a blur. The memory of dark hair on his pillows and soft pink lips that had been wonderful to kiss. Her sweet lovely scent that lingered on his sheets, and a shoe. A tiny clear acrylic shoe, too tiny to fit most of the women in Diagon Alley.

"I think I want to find her." He admitted "Like I am supposed to find her."

"You're going to find her," Fred sat up, looking at George like he was the worlds biggest idiot. "Using nothing but a shoe?"

He and Angelina looked at one another, and then they both broke out in laughter. George watched them laugh. He couldn't blame them, he would have laughed himself.