Hang on for the next chapter, it's a Hogwarts Flashback! Figure out why Sieva detested (notice past tense) George so much and find out more about her past!

Oh and a disclaimer is supposed to go here, but I think everyone knows I didn't write Harry Potter.

…

Molly nudged Ron and Ginny for their attention as she observed George sitting in the kitchen. There was a jar of homemade honey on the table and instead spreading it on his toast, which was quickly becoming cold, her son was dipping the knife into the honey, lifting it out, twirling it around and watching the gold liquid drip back into the jar.

"Maybe he is sick," Ron suggested.

"Maybe its Fred," added his mother. Ginny scoffed.

"You two are pathetic. He's in love," she said.

Ron and Molly looked at her in shock before returning their gazes to George. He had his head resting on his palm and sighed to himself as he continued fiddling with the knife. Seeing the flash of recognition on their faces, Ginny smiled.

"Told you," she whispered, walking off and mimicking Ron, "Maybe he's sick."

Mrs Weasley and her youngest son remained glued to the spot, looking back and forth between each other. George in love? But who was there for him to fall in love with?

"I don't get it, he's only ever at the shop."

Molly shrugged, "Maybe it's a customer."

"But all his customers are little boys." Their eyes darted to each other. Molly shook her head and walked into the kitchen where George had completely missed the conversation about his love life. She grabbed his hand to stop it from twirling the honey.

"What's wrong Georgie?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm bored, with the shop closed for the Good Friday holiday."

"Why don't you visit dad for lunch?"

George agreed to, only because it gave him an excuse to walk through Diagon Alley on his way back. After packing some homemade lunches, he used the floo powder to arrive at the ministry by lunch time. Walking through the empty circular foyer, George entered the lift. He knew he had to get to level 49 but after that he was completely lost. The lift stopped a few times, letting out passengers here and there, letting in few as well. By the time he saw the light illuminate level 33 he was alone in the cart. The doors opened, revealing Sieva and a tubby, middle-aged man.

They spotted each other immediately, looking up at the same moment. Upon seeing him Sieva didn't hear a word that her friend was saying; there was not a sound on earth resounding in either of their ears as they studied each other's eyes for one precise second. George's were serious now, but still blazing as much as when he clowned. Hers were overcast clouds, damp with grey and withheld tears.

She works at the ministry, George thought to himself. That explains a lot.

Sieva's friend noticed her staring, glancing back and forth between the pair of them before settling on George.

"Say, are you Arthur's boy?"

He broke his eyes from hers, "That I am."

"Bill, Charlie, Perc—?" the man began to question.

"I'm George."

"George?" then came the realisation and inevitable pity, "Oh. Right. George. Sieva, this is Weasley's boy."

"Hello," she nodded, her voice low.

The cart rumbled to a stop and the doors dinged open, letting the man out.

Alone, they looked toward each other, George was smiling and on the edge of words. In that split second as he was about to speak, Sieva found her mind wandering. Wandering toward thoughts of how that smile was contagious, how it made her want to giggle like a little girl and look down at her feet, tug at her clothes, and blush scarlet. Stop it, she commanded herself.

There was no need for such a command. Two mature ladies entered the elevator and Sieva and George's heads darted in opposite directions. The women smiled politely before continuing with their gossip.

"Now I don't know who it is exactly. I don't really mind; just get them out of here. Surely security issues arise in the situation of this girl, a delusional, recluse of a woman, working within the ministry. Important stuff happens here," the first one said, her arms waving about.

"You're absolutely right Murna. Eight months in Mungos she did."

"Should have been more like 8 years. All those false accusations she made, involving Machiavellius. The gall of her," the first woman paused, "You know who it might be, Dora Singlegood. She's always walking about muttering to herself. Making such commotions."

In his peripheral vision, George saw Sieva make a subtle face of disgust; a confirmation that this 'recluse of a woman', who had spent 8 months in Mungos, was in fact her.

"Yes, yes. Or maybe—," the other lady began.

"I've always believed," said Sieva, butting in and forcing all eyes on her, "that it's the quiet ones you ought to look out for. This - delusional did you call her? - well she's probably who you'd least expect. Those mental cases know how to hide themselves, trust me."

The ladies nodded in agreement and were about to thank the young girl for her two cents when the doors opened and she pushed passed them.

"Excuse me," she spoke harshly.

Dazed by the quick occurrence, George almost missed the doors. It was level 49. He brushed passed the women and stepped out into a marble corridor, turning a corner and spotting Sieva leaning against the wall, her head in her hands.

He thought maybe she was crying, but when her chilled voice questioned sarcastically, "Can I help you Weasley?" from behind those hands, he realised that it would be a rarity to see a girl like Sieva cry.

"How did you know it was me?" She dropped her hands and gave him a worn look.

"Yes actually," he continued, not bothering with his previous question, "Could you tell me how to get to my dad's office?"

"Down that corridor, turn left then second right."

"Thanks," he smiled and turned to follow her directions. Sieva sighed, why did only a few seconds with Weasley make her feel like she had run a marathon? He was so energy-consuming. He was so frustrating. He was so—he was turning back around. Oh God, what now, she thought to herself.

"By the way, I didn't listen to a word of that conversation," George smirked, referring to her previous warning. Sieva began to half smile as he walked on, almost forgetting what those ladies had said only minutes earlier. She shifted her weight off the wall, turning her head at the last moment to see him turn the corner, before gliding back to her desk.