Author:
George
Weasley's Girlfriend
Title: Not Quite Paradise
Rating:
PG-13
Disclaimers:
Anything
created by Ms. J. K. Rowling belongs to her; everything else, to me.
Summary: In early 2004,
Voldemort has been defeated and the wizarding world is carrying on peacefully…
or so it seems. Secrets, lies and dark
pasts hold the key to the friendships built on years of trust. Will the friendships crumble under the
pressure or carry the weight?
A/N: See previous
chapters. Huge thanks to my betas:
Ebony (who is thoroughly enjoying England), John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady
Christina, Virgo (who wuvs me lots), JM Robin and Pippin (whose invaluable
advice made this fic a worthwhile read). Also introducing Colin and Sue! Remember to check out the HP_Paradise list if you
want to discuss or read the incoming chapters before (or after!) they're posted
to ff.net. Thanks everyone!
Not Quite Paradise
"We
were strangers, starting out on a journey,
Never
dreaming what we had to go through.
Now
here we are and I'm suddenly standing,
At
the beginning with you."
--At the Beginning
Shelly
had once told me bisexual men were great in bed, but I didn't think anything
could ever feel like that.
George
had fallen asleep with his arms around me and his head resting very softly
against my shoulder. His hair tickled
my throat. My arms were wound around
him, too, and I got a pleasant comfort I had never been afforded before: I
got to hold him.
Other lovers I'd had always held me in their sleep, always wanting to be the strong, romance novel paradigm of masculinity. Sure, it was nice to be warm and held, but holding someone else was just about as nice.
Sighing softly, I felt sleep tugging at the
corners of my eyes and I leaned in towards George, turning him over so that I
could rest my head against his chest and sleep soundly in the shelter of his
embrace. Regardless of our confidences
that things would be taken slowly and that things would work, we had a whole
lot to talk about in the morning. Might
as well get a few hours of uncomplicated bliss while I had the chance. With a muffled "mmph," he drew his arms
around me and let his head fall lopsidedly onto to the pillow. I tilted my head to give him a gentle kiss
goodnight, but something caught my eye.
A crescent-shaped scar – like a half moon – fell
into the shaft of moonlight coming through my window. Curiosity winning over sleepiness, I raised myself up on an elbow
and peered closer. The scar was old,
probably from his childhood, and was about three centimeters long. It rested just below the clavicle. I hadn't noticed it earlier because other
issues had been far more pressing at the time George's bare shoulder had been
revealed.
I reached out an inquisitive hand and brushed my
fingers gently across the scar. As my
fingertips touched the soft tissue, I felt a yank behind my navel and the world
around me dissolved.
"I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you, George,"
a soft voice says. Music to my
ears! It's all I can do not to scoop
her up in my arms and spin her around. The Gryffindor common room dissolves into the setting around me and I
can see I'm standing with her at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the
girls' dormitories. She's smiling at me
with her pink lips and bright blue eyes. Her blonde hair looks so soft around her face. I can't help but return the smile.
"Cool," is all I can make myself say. Just then, another female voice (Angelina?)
calls for Katie. She smiles politely
and steps around me.
"See you later," she says quietly. My heart is racing. If this is what being in love feels like, I
want more of it. It takes me a moment
or two to shake myself out of the mild euphoria, but I finally turn and race
for my twin, who's lounging in a pouf near the fireplace.
"She said yes!" I collapse haphazardly on the
floor before him, a broad grin on my face. "Wow… a date with Katie Bell. Katie Bell. Even her name sounds like… like…"
"A bell?" Fred supplies with a cheesy grin. I can't help but laugh.
"Yeah, something like that. Are you going with Angelina next
weekend? If you are, all four of us
could go together. Oh, but wait – what
if she expects it to be just the two of us alone? What if she changes her mind?" Fred only laughs at me.
"I don't know how Anya puts up with you when
you're like this." Anya! She'd know what to do – she always did.
"She's got more patience than a packet of
ketchup, that's why," I retort. Brotherly affection, you had to love it. I look around the common room, but she isn't there and she hadn't
passed me when I was talking to Katie. "Do you know where she is?"
"I thought I saw her go out the portrait hole,
actually."
"Thanks, Fred," I say, and bound for the
portrait hole. I am still a bit giddy;
I'm going on a date with Katie Bell! I
climb through the hole and land in the corridor, still smiling. With a nifty sidestep I bump the portrait
closed.
"Indeed, Mr. Weasley," the Fat Lady says,
clinging to the frame in surprise. She
looks ruffled as she fixes her hairpiece.
"Sorry about that," I laugh. I'd love to race down the hallway, whooping
and hollering.
"What is it you're so excited about, young man?
Honestly, I'll never understand the way children's minds work. One minute one of them is worried and
looking for things that aren't there and another minute, one pops out with the
energy of a hyperactive five year old." She shakes her head briefly. "It
never ceases to amaze me." I blink a
few times. Anya came out just before
me…looking for things that aren't there?
"The girl who came out before me – which way did
she go?"
"Down that way," the Fat Lady says, pointing to
the left, towards the stairs that lead up to the Charms corridor. "It was as though she was looking for something
that she couldn't see… I had to go visit Mona over in the Defense Against the
Dark Arts hallway – you wouldn't believe what Sir Cadogan and his pony were
doing - but I did see her just wander up the stairs." I nod slowly. Did I
offend her by wanting to talk to Katie? No, Anya knows me better than
that. I can't wait to tell her Katie is
going to Hogsmeade with me. I take the
stairs two at a time and finally reach the landing.
I just about turn a corner when I hear a voice
that makes my blood freeze in my veins. It is the sheer ominous tone of the voice rather than any semblance of
familiarity.
"You never were bright. Pity, pity," the voice hisses. I'm trembling, my stomach in knots as I take
a step forward and peer around the corner. I remain frozen as I see Anya standing before a hooded figure, wand
outstretched. Do something! my mind
screams. "Respori—"
I unfreeze and leap forward, screaming, "NO!"
drowning out the rest of the spell. A
blue light shoots out of the tip of the hooded figure's wand, but I'd
distracted him or her just enough for the arm to turn and the light misses
Anya. The glowing ball ricochets off a suit of armor and skims in a curve on my
shoulder.
Pain.
Pain like I have never known before. I clutch at my shoulder and double over, my
head up just long enough to see the blue light strike Anya directly in the
back. She turns slightly, brown eyes
wide, and I see them roll back in her head as she slumps to the ground,
seizing.
"Anya, no," I gasp, the pain in my shoulder
almost driving me to my knees. The
hooded figure is gone, leaving only rapid footsteps in its wake. Finally, Anya lies still, eyes closed. The only thing keeping me from passing out
right there from the pain is that I know I need to get to her. She needs me.
Finally, it's too much. I collapse to my knees at her side and put a
hand on each of her shoulders. It takes
a moment for me to catch my breath and clear my vision, but I manage to do
it. I shake her, muttering her name.
"Anya, wake up…Oh, Merlin…just wake up…this is
all my fault…should have done something sooner…" I can't help her here and I
certainly am not going to drag her back to the common room to get my wand and
try some rather pathetic first aid magic. I take a few deep breaths, preparing to ignore my shoulder. That isn't important now. Anya is. I see a pool of blood beginning to form around her head and my heart rate
doubles.
I slide my arms beneath her slender frame and
lift her. White-hot agony tears through
my shoulder and I slump against the wall. Can't drop her. Have to hold
her. Have to get her help. Anya, I'm so sorry. Should have stopped
it. Stay with me. Can't lose you. I grit my teeth and strengthen my resolve.
Agonizingly slowly, I stagger down the
hallway. I must look quite a sight,
robes torn open at the shoulder, holding a bleeding girl in my arms. She's so small, but she seems to weigh more
and more with each step. My vision is
darkening and…
… I pulled out of the dream. I was breathing heavily as I slowly moved my
hand from George's shoulder. I had just
been inside his head, in his mind, in his memory. George was tossing and turning, muttering
little bits of sentences.
"Going to get you help… Anya, I promise… so sorry… Should've…" There were tears on
his face as he held me to him and I pulled away from him gently.
"George… George, wake up," I said softly,
shaking him. His hands reached up and
grabbed my upper arms as his eyes snapped open. His eyes looked side to side for a few moments, as though he was
completely confused as to where he was. "I'm here; it's okay," I whispered. He finally seemed to understand then, where he was and why he was
there. He wrapped his arms around me
again and held me against his chest, shivering.
"I… I'm sorry… didn't mean to wake you up…" he
murmured into my hair. "I just had a
bad dream, that's all." He kissed my
bare shoulder very softly and I could feel a tear fall against my skin. I pulled away just enough to be able to look
at him in the eye.
"I know you did," I said softly, sweeping a lock
of hair from his face. He still looked
upset and I nestled my head in the hollow of his shoulder, closing my
eyes. His arms circled me again; it was
exactly what he needed.
"I love you, you know," he said in a broken
voice. I wiped the tears gently from
his face, as he'd always done for me. "You have to know."
"I do know," I whispered. "I love you, too." I let out a slow breath and felt George kiss the top of my head
very softly just before drifting off to sleep.
***
"No… stupid cat… get away! Come on! Let her sleep, you dumb feline! Leave her alone," George's voice greeted me as I awakened, still in his
embrace. "Stevie, get out of here. You always get to be with her. My turn." I felt one of his arms move, then the sound of something soft being
hit. There was a hiss and the swipe of
a paw, followed by a sharp yelp by George.
"Mm?" I slurred out, opening my eyes
lazily. George was half-sitting up,
holding one bleeding hand and glaring at my cat's retreating figure. "What happened?" I muttered. I looked at his hand and gasped; Stevie
certainly had given George a good swipe but ther were only a few drops of
blood.
"Oh, George," I whispered. I leaned over him and pulled my spare wand
out of the drawer in the nightstand next to my bed (I'd lost my first wand a
few years back and bought a new one only to find my original wand the moment I
got home from Ollivander's). I lifted
his hand gently in mine and healed the wound with a whispered spell, then
cleaned up the blood. "Are you all
right?" I murmured, drawing my eyes to his.
He nodded slowly with somber eyes. "I'm more than all right." He reached up and touched the side of my
face with his fingertips. It was a nice,
soft feeling. I felt a little giddy,
actually. It was amazing how natural he
was behaving, despite the fact that our relationship had changed so
dramatically.
"You really have that much faith in this, don't
you?" I said slowly. He nodded again
and I covered his hand with mine. I
instinctively rested my head on his shoulder as his arm traveled around my
waist. I couldn't get over how real,
how natural this was, how right it felt.
"Why do you think we waited so long?" I
whispered. "I know this thought has
crossed my mind before and I'd like to think it's crossed yours…"
"It has," he said quickly, but not with any
trace of untruth. "I think it's
probably because we thought we would always have tomorrow to find out."
I dropped my eyes. Tomorrow. Something
Shelly didn't have. Something I almost
didn't have.
"And now we know…"
"…We won't," George finished. We looked at each other and kissed very
softly. "I'm so sorry I left you. Twice."
"I was being unreasonable both times."
"It was still inexcusable. You've never left me
no matter how awful I was to you."
"All I know is you've never treated me badly,
never given me a reason to want to leave you." He gave me a sideways smile. I turned over upon him and slid my arms around his neck. I liked getting used to our new
intimacy. "Except for the time you
stole my Skeedoodle and tried to feed it to Errol. You deserved to be left for that one."
His eyes opened wide with innocence.
"It wasn't me! It was Fred; I swear it." I
arched an eyebrow. I'd caught him
red-handed in the Owlery during third year when he'd tried to do it.
"You great big lying prat, I saw you do
it!" Of course, George wouldn't stand
for such slanderous words, so he began to tickle me until we were both
thoroughly tangled up in my sheets, gasping for air. "Just… cause… you… can… tickle… better… doesn't… mean… you…
didn't—" I squealed as he began to tickle me again. Finally I collapsed against his bare chest and cried out for a
truce.
The two of us lay there for some time, listening
to each other breathe, each other's heartbeats. George ran his fingers very slowly through my hair and hummed
some tune that I was familiar with but couldn't place. He dropped his chin and nuzzled the inside
of my neck very softly.
"I'm hungry," I said after a moment. I looked up at him. "You?"
"Orange juice. I have a strange craving for orange juice." I giggled; just like George to have an odd fetish besides
Chocolate Covered Mangoes. I wiggled
out of his arms and grabbed my robes that were lying on the floor.
"Back in a minute then." I slid out from under the covers and put the
robes on all in one fluid motion. I
cast a look back at George, who looked rather silly with red hair against light
orange pillows and beneath blue sheets that had yellow stripes. He smiled sleepily.
"You're beautiful, you know," he said
softly. But, being George, he added,
"Even with clothes." I rolled my eyes
at him and slipped out the door, smiling to myself. I still had a goofy grin on my face as I opened my refrigerator
and pulled out the orange juice. Stretching up on my tiptoes, I got two glasses out of the cupboard and
set everything on the counter before me.
I heard a door open and close from somewhere
outside the kitchen and smirked. George
never had been patient. I listened to
the heavy footfalls as he entered the kitchen. I continued to pretend not to notice as hands covered my eyes.
"Guess who," a voice whispered, sounding
terribly mischievous. Without
answering, I spun around and pressed my lips to those of the man behind
me. For a moment, the kiss went one
way, most likely out of sheer surprise, but then ended. I opened my eyes and George stood before me,
looking terribly bewildered. "Anya, I…
I can't... what're you…?"
Something was off. I frowned slightly, and then gasped and raised a hand to my mouth
as George Number Two appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing ruffled
robes and holding a hand in his messy hair.
"You… but… you… Fred?!" George Number One – Fred, actually – looked
between the two of us with some sort of stunned amazement. Oh, Merlin's ghost, I'd just snogged
Fred. "Fred, what the hell are
you doing?"
"What's going on in here?" George Number Two –
the real George – asked. He looked just
as confused.
"I thought… um… you were… uh… him," I said in a
little voice. I'd just slept with the
man and now I couldn't tell him from his own brother. Great wizards, how insulting. Fred's confusion was fading and his mouth began to curve a little at the
edges.
"Let me guess," Fred said, trying his damnedest
to hide a grin, "'this isn't what it looks like.'" I blushed harder, if possible, as the smile finally broke through
and I couldn't help but notice how please Fred looked with himself. George, undaunted, crossed the room and slid
an arm around my waist.
"Actually," George said casually, "this is exactly
what it looks like." He turned and gave
me a kiss that took my breath away. I
blinked a few times in dizziness as he righted me and arched an eyebrow at his
brother. My face must have been dragon
heartstring red.
"I came here because you were late to work,"
Fred said to me, looking positively beside himself. "George hadn't shown up either, but the he's always late." George
snorted at this. "I knocked, but
apparently you didn't hear me. You must
have been… ah… wrapped up in other things." His grin had – if possible – broadened. The smarmy git was getting a perverse pleasure out of putting me on the
spot. "So…" he began idly, "How long's
this been going on?"
"Years," George said before I got a chance to
respond. "Since the Hogwarts Express on
the way to first year. Couldn't keep my
eyes off her." I laughed a little and
the tension in the room began to disperse. "Eh, last night… fifteen years ago… really, what is the difference?"
"Fourteen years and three hundred and sixty four
days, actually," Fred answered, not missing a beat. Their banter was cute at times, twinged with anger and cutting
sarcasm at others, but this was a bit unnerving.
"I… um, I'm sorry I'm late," I apologized to
Fred, chewing on my lower lip. He still
looked as though the Christmas holidays had come early.
"No, that's fine. I was just… heh… wondering where you were. How about you start tomorrow then?" I nodded a little sheepishly and he rounded
on his brother. "You, I need in the
store today. So finish…whatever it was
you were doing…and get back to 3W." Fred winked and Disapparated without another word.
"I've never been so embarrassed before in my
life," I groaned, burying my face against George's chest. He laughed and put
his arms around me. "I can't believe
it. What is it with the two of you
sneaking into my house? Do you get some
sort of kick out of it?"
"It's great fun," he
assured me. I stepped back but remained
in his arms. He pressed his forehead
against mine, eyes closed. "This is
going to get complicated, isn't it?" he sighed. I nodded. It was bound to
come up sooner or later anyway. "Tell
you what: one step at a time."
"I'd say last night
was one giant leap," I giggled softly and he opened his eyes.
"Enjoyed yourself that
much, huh?"
"I'm still
tingling." His smiling eyes studied me
for a moment.
"I've never felt like
anything like it myself." He paused and
smiled. "My, Miss Parker, you are a
very attractive shade of red." I
giggled again and pressed myself against him. The man could make me smile and blush with a look or a word.
"If you don't leave
for work now, I'm afraid you're not leaving at all today." He grinned devilishly.
"Promise?" I ruffled his hair and laughed when he
batted my hand away.
"Fred would be awful
angry with me if I kept you from the shop."
Exasperation crept
into his voice when he replied, "He's not my keeper, you know." I touched his face softly to calm him. It seemed to work.
"I know; I was just
teasing." He relaxed visibly and smiled
again. Without warning, he darted
forward and kissed me. "I'll stop by
for lunch. We can have the obligatory
deep, meaningful, complicate-everything discussion then."
"What makes you so
sure I'm going to fix you lunch?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.
"You are
lunch," he grinned. He kissed me again,
this time longer.
"I'll owl out for
pizza." His smile didn't fade. "See you later then." One more kiss, a barely audible pop, and I
was alone again.
***
After having a
ridiculously late breakfast, I went into my tiny backyard with my wand and
knelt before my garden. I'd always had
a garden no matter where I lived and some of my first memories were of watching
my mother garden and wanting to help. I'd revived the old hobby in recent weeks when I'd had a few minutes
free.
Most of the time, it
was a wonderful distraction. One could
easily get lost in the bursts of color and sprouts of new life. I'd been pretty decent in Herbology because
I had been a patient student. Above
anything else, Herbology required patience. Being magical meant instant gratification and easily developed
impatience. Plants, no matter how magical,
still worked on far slower clocks. One
had to care for the seed and nurture it. It must be fed and watered and kept where lots of sun could get to it.
It was an easy thing
to get lost in, but the thoughts swirling through my mind were just too much. I set my wand down and stretched out on the
sun-warmed grass. I closed my eyes and
took a deep breath of the fragrant garden.
Between my release
from Paracelsus and George's arrival the previous night, a lot of me had
changed. I'd taken up gardening and
expanded farther into my interest in Magical Creatures. I'd never realized what a gigantic world it
was. For so long, my life had consisted
of waking up, going to work, having the occasional date, and returning home to
an empty house.
It took what I thought
the worst thing that could ever happen – losing George – to open my eyes. As much as I missed him, and it hurt like a
constant stomachache, it was something I had to go through. When Shelly had been an aspiring writer in
her Hogwarts days, she always wrote fantastic love stories with the standard
neglected princess and dashing knight. But she always made sure the princess wasn't a damsel in distress. She told me that the princess "could always
make it on her own without her hero, but by Merlin, she would never want
to."
We'd dissolved into
giggles at this, but now her words haunted me. They'd been proven true in the last few weeks. I could live without George in my life, but by Merlin, I would
never want to. Playing damsel in
distress only irked those around me and got tiring after a while.
I turned over onto my
side and played with the soft grass. George would be back soon, wanting to over complicate everything. Well, it wasn't that he wanted to make
things difficult; it was that he overanalyzed situations and found tribulations
where there were none. I wanted to go
by our word: one step at a time. We
would have our fair share of troubles and awkward moments, and we'd probably
get into a few good rows, but things like that had never destroyed our
friendship. Why should they destroy a
romantic relationship?
Maybe it was just a
fluke. Maybe he came over because he
just needs an emotional outlet. You
made the first move, my mind taunted. It wasn't fair the way my mind was so insecure. I thought I'd left that Anya behind.
I must have drifted
off to sleep, because the next thing I remembered was something small
skittering past my head, and then a very sharp pain in my nose. I snapped my eyes open to see a pair of very
small, but very sad brown eyes staring directly into mine. I gasped and sat up quickly, only to see the
tail end of an Augurey disappear into my rosebushes.
The tiny bird peered
at me from between the thorn branches, brown eyes wide. The poor thing looked so droopy, but I then
remembered that all Auguries had a bit of a weepy look to them. Without breaking its gaze from mine, it
fluffed its brown and green feathers. I
smiled.
"It's okay, little
bird. I didn't mean to startle
you." I rubbed my nose tenderly and was
relieved to find no blood. It let out a
long, mournful cry and I shivered involuntarily. For a long time, it had been believed that an Augurey cry was
fatal, but later research proved that it merely foretold a rainstorm. The bird squawked and then scampered through
the bushes until I couldn't see it anymore.
I smiled and stood,
turning to go back in the house and then paused and looked back over at my old
hammock, half covered with the blanket Shelly had given me a few years
ago. It had been ages since I had just
lain there, listening to songbirds. With a small smile, I circled the garden and slid onto the hammock with
a soft sigh. The sun was warm, but the
ground had been chilly, so I pulled the blanket over myself and closed my
eyes. I had a few moments of
uninterrupted bliss until a deep male voice jarred me from my pleasant state.
"You're not asleep,
are you?" I opened my eyes and looked
up at George. He was smiling down at me
uneasily.
"Not anymore," I
yawned, sitting up carefully. I'd flipped
out of the hammock far too many times to move quickly while in it. He relaxed and sat by my side. With a little smile, he brushed a lock of
hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear.
"Ready for the deep,
meaningful over-complicate-everything discussion?" he asked with a smirk. I shook my head and he frowned.
"George," I began,
taking one of his hands, "we don't need to look for the profound answer to why
it took us so long to realize we ought to be together. There's no pressing demand for us to be
mushy and melodramatic. What it all
boils down to is that I love you and want to keep you in my life." I ended my little speech and realized that
it was far mushier and melodramatic than we could have come up with during a philosophical
exchange.
"And I love you, too,
but we can't jump into this blindfolded—"
"Well, why not?" I
cried in exasperation. "Other couples
do. You've been on a blind date before
as have I. But we've got an advantage. We know each other inside and out – no need
to get involved with messy pasts. I
know all your dirty secrets anyway," I grinned.
George returned the
grin and leaned very close to my ear. "Not all of them," he said in a low voice. A shiver ran up my spine, one of the good kinds. "Not all the fun ones, at any rate." I giggled as he pressed his lips very softly
to my ear.
"Do tell," I
whispered. "Come, join me." I pulled aside the blankets and he wedged
himself into the hammock beside me. Our
legs tangled together beneath the blanket and I pillowed my head on his
chest. After a few moments of peace, I
decided to make trouble.
I moved off George and
raised myself on an elbow beside him.
"So tell me about
these secrets," I chided, touching the side of his face softly. He grinned and nipped at the tip of my
finger, which I yanked away with a yelp.
"Serves you right," he
said smugly. He paused a moment and
then looked over at me with curiosity. "Have you ever made love in a hammock?"
***
I caught heat for the
next three days from Fred for making George late back to work. Other than that,
life returned to normal.
Angelina was within
days of her due date, so Fred spent a lot of time away from the store to be
with her. George told him that he was
being ridiculous; she would send an owl at the first signs the baby was coming.
Fred wouldn't have
it. The poor man was completely and
totally irrational when it came to his wife's health. I suppose his nervousness stemmed from her illness back in January. She'd just barely come out of that ordeal
with her life. Now Fred was spending
every waking moment with her, only stopping by the shop to check on things.
He seemed wary of
leaving us alone together, but I reassured him, telling him we would be very
professional while working. After all,
he could trust me.
George, on the other
hand, had very different ideas. He
would wait until I was fixing the plants in the windows ("You can make those
grow just looking at them, love," George would always say) and then whisper
"Boo!" very loudly into my ear. I'd
gasp and spin around to face him, gullible every time.
"You're horrible," I
murmured as he rested his hands very gently at my waist. He kissed the side of my neck very
softly. "This is highly
unprofessional."
"I can think of loads
of unprofessional things to do," he chuckled in my ear. "Each more fun than the last…"
It would never really
get any farther than that and certainly not even that advanced if there was a
customer in the shop. Just the same, it
was a bit odd to see him all day and then date him at night. Perhaps I was overdosing on my time with him
and while it was wonderful at first, I foresaw problems.
"Maybe I should get a
job somewhere else," I suggested to him as he handed me a package of Canary
Creams to put on the shelf. We'd closed
an hour earlier and were almost finished restocking the backroom. He paused and held the next box in midair.
"You're not happy
here?" he frowned. I plucked the box
out of his hand, shaking my head.
"I'm happy working
here. It's the best job I've ever had
and you know that, George. It's
just…" I stepped down from the ladder and stood at his side, looking up into
his confused blue eyes. I tried a
different approach. "I'd rather not mix
business with pleasure. I'm afraid
we'll see each other so much that we'll get sick of each other and become
irritable and snap at each other like Ron and Hermione." George allowed himself a chuckle at this.
"No one snaps like Ron
and Hermione. It's like they each
already have their comebacks ready before the other speaks… it's sort of
amazing in a curiously twisted sort of way."
"Meaning you find the
idea fascinating," I giggled. He
shrugged and grinned sheepishly. Finally, he heaved a sigh.
"I suppose you're
right…but I will miss having you around here. And you've got to promise to stay long enough to teach me that absurd
filing system of yours." I poked Mr.
Organized in the chest. "Ow, hey!" I squealed as he got a mischievous glint in
his eye. Before he could do anything, I
shelved the box I'd been holding and raced out of the backroom.
I burst through the
door and into the dark shop, ducking into aisle two and trying very hard to
stop giggling. I heard George's patient
footsteps exit the room and close the door slowly. I finally got my giggling under control and peered out from
around the corner. George was barely
illuminated in the shaft of moonlight from a window and he was glancing around
in search of me.
"Come out, come out,
wherever you are," he teased. He dipped
his head behind a display to look and I scampered into aisle one, careful not
to make a sound. When I turned around
to check on him again, he was gone. I
looked around, paranoid, but didn't see him anywhere. I stood very slowly, just in front of the display of Parrot
Pillows.
"GOTCHA!" a voice
shouted. I screamed as a very warm body
collided with mine and we went tumbling into the Parrot Pillows, which were far
too asleep to squawk in protest. I found
myself looking up at a very breathless but very pleased looking George.
"Damn," I whispered
between heavy breaths. He'd certainly
knocked the wind out of me.
"Remember the last
time Fred found us like this… well, not exactly like this… but just the same?"
he asked, with a low voice.
"Your point?" I
murmured.
"Think the same excuse
would work if we were caught this time?" I laughed against the cloth of his robes and pushed him off me.
"Probably not," I told
him. I reached a hand down to help him
up, but he just pulled me back down to him. "Mmph, George…" I began, but his lips silenced me.
"Have you ever made
love in a pile of Parrot Pillows?" he asked lewdly, arching one eyebrow.
"No, and I don't
intend to," I giggled, standing again. "Now get up, Romeo." Reluctantly
and looking very put off, George stood and brushed himself off. I looked up at him with wide, brown eyes and
took his hands in mine. "Walk me home?"
***
On the last day of
March, I meandered down Diagon Alley after work, needing both a satchel of Floo
powder and a birthday present for George. I'd always liked Hogsmeade better than Diagon Alley. Hogsmeade had more of a small town feeling
to it while Diagon Alley reminded me more of one of those seedy Muggle strip
malls. But, alas, Hogsmeade was a small
town, George had an inquisitive mind and I'd rather his present was a surprise.
I stopped in Dob and
Wink's for my Floo powder, waving hello to the house-elf at the front
door. Dob and Wink's was a relatively
new establishment – the Diagon Alley location, at any rate – and was pretty
much one-stop shopping for everything. There had been a lot of public upheaval with its existence in an already
stable shopping location and I wouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of fiery
confrontation.
After buying the Floo
powder (and, I had to guiltily admit to myself, a few other things), I wondered
what to get George. I'd always gotten
him Zonko's products until Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes opened, in which case it
became sacrilegious for me to set foot in the store. After that, it had been odds and ends I'd stumbled across that
had a quirky allure to them. George
always liked the things I got him – out of politeness or actual delight – but
it was tough to come up with new ideas.
I'd basically
exhausted all Quidditch-related gear… but more than that I wanted to get him
something special. Something different,
something one of a kind…
I came to the point
where Diagon and Knockturn Alleys converged. Chewing my lower lip, I looked down bright Diagon Alley, with its children
racing around and bustling crowds, smiling people. I turned my eyes on Knockturn Alley, with its dark, forbidden
stores and shady characters.
Oh, what the
Hades. I wasn't a child anymore. Holding my bag tightly, I started down
Knockturn Alley, trying to quell the uneasiness in my stomach. It was ridiculous to be scared…right?
On my left was an
apothecary, with cracked windows and a rotted door hanging loosely off its
hinges. An old, hunchbacked witch
staggered around outside, calling out prices for various items.
"Hippogriff toenails,
two for a Sickle! High quality for all
potion uses! Moke skins, four Galleons
each! Great for moneybags!" I blanched and looked away. Whatever had possessed me to come in this
place?
I shivered and walked
on, clutching my bag closer. On my
left, I saw Borgin and Burke's. An
employee was arranging something in the window. When he stepped aside, I could see that it was a gnarled hand
clutching a half-burned candle. I
quickly drew my eyes away and continued down the street. I didn't want to get something creepy for
George. Just something interesting and
different.
A few insalubrious
characters passed me, beady eyes darting around suspiciously. I felt like a sugar quill amongst blood
lollipops. On my right, I spotted a
small, brighter-looking store that stuck out just as much as I did.
ODDS
AND ENDS FOR THE ASTUTE OF MIND
Perfect. I crossed the cobblestone street quickly and
ducked inside, a bell signifying my entrance. The walls were covered in shelves of knickknacks, curios and other
bric-a-brac. The store was dimly lit
and the only thing other than the shelves and two aisles was a dilapidated
cashier's desk. I pulled my cloak
tightly around me and searched for the right thing.
A tea set that never
spills? Nah. A tiny Puffskien brush? Not a chance; George hated the little animals. Perhaps a suitcase that could fit six-dozen children inside? Tempting for all of George's nieces and
nephews, but I doubt his brothers and sisters-in-law would appreciate the
gesture.
Finally, I turned away
from the wall shelves and started down the first aisle. It was mostly stocked with clocks, one of
which tried to bite me. I came to the
end and was just about to turn the corner when I saw a lonely oval-shaped
object under a layer of dust. Carefully, I lifted it into my palm and blew the dust from the lid. After coughing for a few moments, I pressed
the tiny button on the top and it popped open. It startled me and I nearly dropped it.
"Wow," I whispered,
looking into its face. The inside
didn't look old at all; rather it looked as though it was crafted just minutes
earlier. There were intricate designs
on the inside lid. From what I could
make out in the dim light, a knight was mounted upon a centaur and was
positioned at the base of the tower. At
the top of the tower, leaning out of the window, was a beautiful princess, long
dark hair cascading downwards. I leaned
forward and saw the knight looked extraordinarily like George. So much like him, in fact, that I felt a
shiver go up my spine. My eyes drifted
upwards and I saw that the princess was… me.
I gasped and snapped
the pocketwatch closed. I held it for a
few moments, trembling, before I dared open it again. It was just my imagination. The knight and princess looked nothing like George and me. It was merely my thoughts running wild. I opened it again slowly and looked at the
bottom. The bottom portion had no numbers, but twelve hands. I remembered once when Professor Dumbledore
had shown me a watch that looked astoundingly like this one. I flipped it over. The date marked was 1373.
The perfect gift. I'd fit the watch hands to read all sorts of
silly things. George would love
it. I started for the front desk when a
hand landed very heavily on my shoulder. I gasped and turned around.
"Snape," I
breathed. Silvanus Snape stood behind
me, yellowed teeth stretched into a disgusting grin. "I- I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting…"
"Neither was I," he
said silkily. He moved a hand towards
my face, but I turned away. "I didn't
expect such an innocent flower like yourself to be in Knockturn Alley all by
alone. And without your George to
protect you…" My heart pounded against my ribs and I clutched the pocketwatch
to my chest. My other hand was holding
tightly to the wand inside my robes. Snape only seemed to be amused by my facial expression. "I am terribly sorry to hear of the passing
of your good friend, Michelle," he said in a low voice.
"Her name was
R-Rochelle," I stammered. It wasn't
terribly important and I'd rather he didn't know, but it was all I could think
of. Snape flinched a little at this,
but recovered quickly.
"Nonetheless, the pain
must be crushing." If I hadn't known
better, I'd have thought he sounded genuinely sorry. "You should have someone to…" he stepped closer, "console
you." I narrowed my eyes at him,
furious.
"Maybe you ought to
leave," a voice said from behind me. I
spun again and looked up into smoky grey eyes. The man that stood there looked to be about twenty-five and had blonde
hair that fell just in front of his eyes. I turned around to look back at Snape, squaring my shoulders. Snape looked between the two of us, not
losing a single grain of composure.
"And what place do you
have to tell me to leave?" Snape asked coolly.
"This is my store and
I'm strongly suggesting you go." I could tell that there was no 'suggestion' in his tone. Snape gave us each another long glance, eyes
sizing us up.
He leaned very close
and whispered in my ear, "Until next time." I shrunk away and didn't open my eyes until I heard the bell in the
front of the store ring. I felt a hand
on my shoulder and I gasped, spinning around quickly.
"Are you all right,
miss?" the stranger asked. I let out a
relived sigh; he seemed nice enough.
"Yes, I'm all
right." I had kind of wanted to deal
with Snape on my own, but the man meant well.
"Has you ever seen
that man before?" he asked, looking at me with worried eyes. I nodded. "Old boyfriend or something?" I
suppose the look on my face must have been pretty humorous, for he laughed and
said, "Sorry, sorry, guess not. No
offense." He smiled again and went
behind the counter.
I followed him,
stopping in front of the counter. I
still had the old pocketwatch in my hands. It probably cost a zillion Galleons, but I'd ask anyhow.
"Um… I'd…" I
began. He turned to look at me, and
then spotted the item. A small smile
crept across his face.
"Ah, hardly anyone
gives my grandfather's old watch a second look," he said with a small smile.
"Oh, this belonged to
your grandfather?" Histories of objects
were always intriguing. "Don't you want
to keep it?" He shook his head.
"Nah, Grandfather
never liked that one for some reason. His best friend had given it to him, but he was in love with her
and…well, the feelings weren't returned. He got rid of it to try to forget about her. Lost its sentimental value, I suppose." He shrugged, but I
thought it was a very sad story. "He
said something about the life of the giver was in the eyes of the
character. Grandfather spoke in riddles
all the time. I really have no idea
what it means." I frowned down at the
watch, and noted its date again.
"I guess it's rather
expensive," I said slowly.
"Well, Grandfather
told me to sell it for thirty Galleons…" I winced, "But I think that's too
much, too. How about fifteen?" Still a bit pricey, but more affordable than
thirty Galleons. I mused for a
moment. George would definitely like
it.
"Sounds good."
***
George and I had
planned to out to dinner with Fred and Angelina the night before his birthday
(The family was holding the party for the twins the next day at the Burrow.),
but there was an emergency at 3W. During lunch break (the store closed for half an hour), a pewter
cauldron was thrown through the front window and destroyed an entire aisle of
merchandise. Someone had broken in and
trashed the rest of the place. But the
worst part of it was that that someone wrote derogatory slurs all over the
wall, George's name being mentioned several times.
It was sick. The wizarding world was just as intolerant
of sexual diversity as the Muggle world was and it infuriated me. When Fred and I had reentered the store
(Angelina and George were behind, ogling something in the window at Zonko's),
my heart stopped. The front window had
been reenchanted to look as though it was in one piece and everything inside
was just how it was left.
"Oh, Merlin…" Fred
murmured. His usual temper wasn't to be
seen, for the shock was too fresh. As
our eyes roamed over the walls, over all the cruel words that had been
scratched into the surface, I heard George's gasp behind me.
"George…" I started,
turning to him. His face had gone white
as he read the horrible things on the wall.
Fred had summoned
Ministry officials to photograph the damage and see if any aura threads were
left behind. Not even a Muggle
fingerprinting kit got us closer to the person who'd done the horrible thing. The only witnesses saw someone in a black
cloak slip into the store. The Ministry
officials speculated the person had gone inside and enchanted the inside into
stasis so no one could see what was happening. Fred saw Angelina home despite her protests and offers to help and then
the three of us were left to sort out the pieces.
When I got home late
that evening (Fred and George promised to clean up the rest), I opened the
Daily Prophet and continued job hunting. The position that seemed most appealing was a position as psychiawitch at
Paracelsus. However, the requirements
included a three-year course at the hospital university. I sighed and rubbed my eyes before turning
the page. There had to be something for
me.
I heard a knock at the
door and turned my head towards the sound. It was almost midnight. Far
too late for visitors, I thought. Then I remembered that George had told me he'd try to stop by.
"Come in!" I called
anyway. The door opened slowly and
George poked his head in. "Hey," I
smiled. He smiled back, if not a wit
wanly. "Everything sorted out at the
shop?" He nodded and rubbed his eyes.
"As much as we're
going to get done tonight. They got the
backroom, too. It's my birthday
tomorrow and I'm not going to get myself worked up over it. It's over. For now anyway." George crossed
the room to my side and gave another sigh. I looked up at him with concerned eyes.
"Are you sure,
love?" He nodded.
"What're you doing?"
he asked, nodding down at my newspaper.
"Looking for another
job, remember?" I replied slowly, peering at him over the top of the
parchment. He scowled.
"Damn, I'd hoped you'd
given up on that." I frowned. It was really bothering him.
"George…" In reply, he
picked me up in his arms, moved me off the couch, stretched out himself and
then curled me against him, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Comfortable?" I smirked. I looked in silence for a little longer and
another ad caught my eye.
HERBOLOGIST
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MUST
HAVE PATIENCE AND HERBOLOGY EXPERIENCE
QUESTIONS? OWL HANNAH MCMILLIAN
OR
INQUIRE AT DIAGON ALLEY'S PLANTS-A-PLENTY
PARKER JACKALOPE PRACTICAL JOKE ENTERPRISESEXPERIENCED MANAGER WANTEDSERIOUS INQUIRIES ONLY
"Perfect,
isn't it?" he asked glumly. I giggled,
took his face in my hands, and kissed him very hard.
"Why
are you being such a Moaning Myrtle about this?" George wiggled a little bit and wrapped his arms around me.
"Because
I'm greedy and awful and want you all to myself," he sighed. I giggling and gave him another firm snog.
"Well,
I've got something for you," I said. "Actually,
two things." I crawled over him and he
raised himself up on his elbows to look up at me.
"What?"
he asked with interest. Without
answering, I stood and went into the bedroom. I took his birthday present out from under my bed and reentered the
living room. Now George was sitting up.
"Your
birthday present, silly," I answered. I
handed him the small wrapped package and chewed my lower lip. I really hoped he'd like it.
"But
my birthday isn't until tomorrow," he said with a confused smile, but took the
small present from my hand nevertheless.
"I
know, but we have the party tomorrow at the Burrow and I wanted to give it to you
today," I replied. I watched as he
slowly unwrapped it and the shining pocketwatch came into view. His blue eyes sparkled as he studied it and
turned it over in his palm. His hands
brushed over the button and it popped open. I snickered into my hand when I saw that he jumped and almost dropped
it. He brought the pocketwatch very
close to his face and peered inside.
"Anya,
this is so cool," he said slowly. I
grinned and scooted closer, peering over his shoulder. "How did you get the little people to look
like us?" He saw it, too! But before I
could answer, he'd turned it over, saw the date, and his eyes widened. "This is over six hundred years old! Anya, where did you get this? It must have cost a fortune!"
"That,
my love, is my little secret," I said with a smile. I removed the pocketwatch from his hands and set it on the side
table. He looked sideways at me, a
smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes watched me carefully as I slid my arms slowly around his
neck. He raised an eyebrow.
"So
where's this second gift you're going to give me?" he asked, putting his arms
around my waist. I grinned and murmured
the answer.
"You've
got to unwrap it first."
To
be continued…
Yes,
yes, a very lewd ending, but what can I say? I'm corrupted (*sends winks in Eb's direction*). Sorry about all the fluff, but I couldn't
help myself. The next chapter will be
heavy and depressing and the final chapter of the story. There's an epilogue after that, though,
which has been written for ages (read: two days) and will probably be rewritten
sixteen zillion times.
Quidditch (No, Fred cheated on
Angelina with Shelly, not Alicia. *panics* Lack of apostrophes and quotation
marks? But they were all there!), Amanita
Lestrange (Eek! Pippin! *schnoogles* Thanks for all
the kind words about my writing and my character.), Joy (My, what a long
review! Oh, yes! I was so worried about the G/A mush. Thank you for putting my mind at ease. I went back and changed the analysis mistake
– thanks for letting me know! And it
was the Sponge, and not Crucio that made the Longbottoms go mad. The original diagnosis was incorrect. My mistake for being unclear.), Ali
(LOL! Do you really think Anya would be
cheeky to Alicia? Nah, she's still far
too polite for her own good. Maybe re:
the sequel. I'm thinking about writing
a story that takes place between TiP and PL…), AngieJ (DON'T CALL HIM
THAT! And no, Anya didn't cry.
*winkwink*), Juliette (LOL, that's Eb's nicknames for them! Well, it came up in an IM and I put it into
context. And yeah, deep down [way
down], Fred's a good guy.), Julius (Neville's a cool character, isn't
he? We get to see him in the next
chapter. I'm glad the story stays Harry
Potterish for you. J), Mrs Fred Weasley
(TWIN! Yes, Fred is a nice boy and
he's… well... nifty, I guess.), gumdrop (Thank you! I was worried the boggart part came off as
cheesy. Glad you liked it.), Sheryll
Townsend (3:30 AM reviews are the BEST!), Kris RL (*hands over a
tissue* You going to be all right,
love?), nosilla (Yeah, just when Anya gets everything sorted out…
insert cackle here), Moriel (I went back and fixed those two
mistakes. Thank you very much for
pointing them out! *shuts ears in oven* Bad Jana!), ~*Ginny*~ (I'm glad you like Anya's father so much. She's misses him a whole lot, you know. I'll try and add a few more references to
him in there for you.), magical*little*me (Pressure? PRESSUIRE?! *eye twitches*), Belle Malfoy (Thank you!), Colette (I
like to think George and Anya like the way I ended it, too…), Helmione
Nightingranger (Thank you so much for the kind words on Anya. She's definitely the OC I've put the most
effort into ever and the payoff of feedback is quite rewarding.) Sweetfires
(Brilliant? *flushes pink and tries not to look too pleased with herself*), Miss
Devonny (Get Jackalope from American's Funniest Home Videos? Of course not! I've got a Jackalope farm in my backyard. *hums Bewitched
theme*), Ashlie (Sealed the deal? LOL! That's a new one. And don't worry, this chapter is full of
fluff.), kateroo (I could be evil and tell you "no promises"…), Ruth
(They are rather cute, aren't they?), R.J. Anderson (*wipes spit from
monitor* As far as the alcoholism goes,
go back and read the parts about her drinking wine to rid of the nightmares and
her having a lot of wine at the Jackalope party. I was worried it was too subtle…), *~* Yesha *~* (Hey,
join the lazy club. George is wonderful,
isn't he? *swoons*), Minzzer (I
hope your computer is better!), Hydy a.k.a. Serpentese (Yes, her
disappearance should be adequately explained at the end of the next chapter), 007
(Ask and ye shall receive! Hope you
enjoyed it.), RayMai (The Wild Weasley Twins! LOL!), Annie Argo (I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying! Oh, and yes, Angelina is very pregnant and
will have her first child in the next chapter.), Stardust (Yeah!), Hallie
Marie (Another chapter and the epilogue – bear with me!), DarkKnight
(*turns very pink* Aw, shucks…), my
buddy and beta, Colin (Wow, six reviews! Oy, where do I begin? Lots of glomps and schnoogles in those reviews. I feel so loved! Hope you enjoyed Dreamwalk Blue – Viola's a great writer.), Lisa
(Thank you! And I've posted the chapter
for you, George and Anya. Is everyone
happy now?) and *Hermiron778* (Aren't AuthorAlerts cool?).
P.S. Font changes for no apparent reason and huge
spaces between paragraphs is ff.net weirdness and not intended on my part. Sorry!
