An Unfortunate Miracle: Part III
Chapter Seven
People That Come and Go
Author's Note: I almost used Bungy the Budgie, but I had to take it out! Darn it! At some point before I finish this story, I will mention Bungy!
Lucy is a character from another Harry Potter fic that I'm working on sporadically. I won't say much in case nothing comes of it, but the Lucy in this chapter is basically her, with a few minor tweaks to fit this story.
To explain how Kailee and Ivy know how to navigate Liverpool so easily, uh...magic. Yeah. I was getting really lazy with this chapter. There are a couple bad transitions and one really terrible transition. It's one of those things I'll try to care about later. There's forty-something chapters to get through, remember? And if you're curious, the soccer (football!) game on TV in the pub is the August 23, 1989 game. Yes, I looked it up. And big hugs if by the end of the chapter you can tell me how it was foreshadowing! (The date has nothing to do with it.)
If you're really interested in why it took me so long to update, go read the little notes at the top of my bio on my author's page. But I am back to school now (I was typing this together in my dorm room at MSU Moorhead, actually!), so expect delays, blah, blah, blah. I think my regular readers have come to expect long waits between updates.
I also have no idea what appletinis taste like, as I haven't had alcohol since I was seven (yes, seven). Sorry, but I'm not going to risk a hangover just for story accuracy. If I am wrong, and you want to correct me, go right ahead.
Disclaimer: Don't own Coke products, blah, blah, blah. The butterbeer recipe is actually my cream of root beer soup recipe. You'll know what I'm talking about if you've seen a certain episode of the Monkees. Which I don't own. Also, certain people mentioned in this chapter are their own. You'll know who I'm talking about when you get to it. And I don't own the Beatles.
super jumper: Thank you!
maruder no. five: Thanks for your review!
Cyanica: Really? That's awesome, thank you! I like your name, by the way. It's very pretty.
delly: Was almost five months too long? Hehehe. I'm terrible.
Finalfan9999: It seems like every other OC-centered fic I read has something to do with an American.
wendystwin: (Chapter 3) You know, the Gred and Forge part is right before the Fred foreshadowing. That's what that makes me think of now. Isn't that sad? (Chapter 4) Ya toss pot! Hahaha. (Chapter 5) Silly Kaylin! (Chapter 6) Which stuck up snobs are you talking about? In high school or college?
P.R.M.A.S.: I do feel your pain. I love storms. My perfect day includes a thunderstorm. I'm in Moorhead for school, and the winter here is probably going to be worse than it is in the cities. Not looking forward to that.
FailedWriter: James and Oliver are quite yummy, aren't they?
Write in Raine: Aw, you make me blush. Hehehe.
I think a couple people reviewed on Parts I and II, but I'm too lazy at the moment to go look. Thank you to those people for your reviews, though!
After about a dozen more questions and a few more magic demonstrations, Ellie departed for the Leicester Square tube station. Kailee and I retreated farther into the alleyway before Kailee took me by Side-Along Apparition to Ireland.
The Hunters' "farm" (though it was on farmland, Kailee's family hadn't used it as such for around twenty years, and was now covered with oak and cedar trees) was located on the outskirts of Ballyvoy, very near Ireland's northeast coast. The barn was large and stone-walled, and to my surprise, contained two black winged horses, and a ghoul in the loft. There was a small garden between the barn and the house, which was a typical two-story farmhouse.
Kailee's parents, Layla and Edwick Hunter, were just as I'd remembered them in America, other than being Irish. Both worked at the Ministry, her father on the Floo Regulation Panel, and her mother in the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Her older sister, Skie, a Healer at St. Mungo's, lived in Coventry.
I slept in Skie's old room, and we spent the next day setting off fireworks in the yard. We had a short conversation at dinner about the Hunter family clones. The reason it was short was because Kailee's parents didn't know much more about the spell that created the clones than I did. It was old magic (though probably not as old as the love magic that had protected Harry from the Killing Curse), and the only person that had known any more about it was Dumbledore.
As we were about to leave around ten-thirty, I managed to talk Kailee into stopping in Liverpool on our way back to London. I'd never been, and since the Beatles were one of the most successful groups in the world, why not? So we Apparated to Sefton Park in Liverpool, appearing amongst some trees. We had returned to the Rowling Dimension (as Kailee's parents' house existed only in the Potterverse) to avoid being seen Apparating by Muggles and causing the Ministry to come after us.
"So where do you want to go?" Kailee asked as we left the park. "Nothing's going to be open this late."
"I just want to see Penny Lane, really," I said. "The Cavern – where the Beatles used to play in the early sixties – that might be open. But I don't know where it is, though."
So we went to Penny Lane. The Cavern wasn't there, but we found a little pub on a side street. It was dark and drab, but there was a very nice plasma television on one wall. It was showing a soccer game between Liverpool and Aston Villa, but it looked like it was from the eighties or early nineties, and I only spotted one person watching it. We sat down at a little two-person table, and a waitress showed up almost right away.
"Evening!" It was a woman with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, holding a small notepad. Her nametag said 'Lucy'. "What can I get for you?" I tried not to giggle. She was Liverpudlian, all right. She sounded just like a female version of John Lennon.
"Guinness for me, please," Kailee said.
I looked at her in surprise. I never expected Kailee, Irish or not, to ask for alcohol. "You drink?" I asked.
She looked at me strangely. "Yeah, isn't that what we're here for?"
"Well, your – " I caught myself quickly, glancing at Lucy, who was watching us curiously, " – you're not twenty-one," I finished lamely.
Kailee continued looking at me funny. "It's eighteen in England, Ivy, I thought you knew that?" I had known that. She looked at Lucy. "I expect you'll want to see me I.D.?"
"Please," she nodded. Kailee began digging through her bottomless purse for her wallet. It was really weird. In California, Kailee's clone never drank.
"Do you have soda?" I asked Lucy.
She nodded. "Yeah, Coke products."
"Sprite, please."
She scribbled it down on her notepad. "Are you American?"
I nodded. Kailee finally pulled out her I.D. and showed it to Lucy, who nodded after examining it. "Guinness and a Sprite, then, that it for you?" We nodded. "I'll be right back with your drinks."
She left, and I looked at Kailee. "Your sister never drank, she hated it."
She looked at me in confusion for a second, and then her eyes lit with understanding. "Really?" I nodded. She shrugged.
Lucy returned with our drinks, and gave us a brief smile before going to help a woman who had just arrived. Kailee sipped her beer. "It's still weird."
We spent the next half hour or so sipping our drinks and chatting about random things.
"I'm goin' to the loo," Kailee said eventually, standing up. "I'll be right back." I nodded and she left. I frowned into my empty glass. It was nearly eleven, and we would have to leave soon. This was probably going to be the last whole day I could spend in the Rowling Dimension, where Voldemort and his threat was just a story. I wished I could stay, but I knew I couldn't.
Someone sat in Kailee's vacated seat. "Can I buy you a drink?" I looked up, about to say that I didn't drink and was leaving soon anyway, but the words died on my lips as I got a good look at the man beside me.
My mouth fell open. I studied his face for nearly a minute before I realized I hadn't said anything. "You're Oliver Phelps!" I breathed.
He laughed. "Do you really know, or is that just a guess?"
"Well – well I – I'm fairly certain I'm right." I swallowed nervously. This couldn't really be happening. Maybe Kailee or Lucy had spiked my soda.
"How's that?" he asked curiously.
"My – a couple of my friends are identical twins, and I usually get them right, and they're a lot harder to tell apart than you and James – " I suddenly realized I was rambling a bit and cut myself off, my face growing warm. "A–anyway, you don't have the scar James has on his eyebrow, so – so you're Oliver."
"Obviously a fan," he said, smiling at me. My face burned even more. "Well, you're right, I'm Oliver. So can I get you that drink?"
"Thanks, but I don't drink anything stronger than butterbeer – " I froze, realizing what I'd said. Smooth, Wolfe
Oliver laughed. "Butterbeer?"
I blushed. "I – I'm slightly obsessed with Harry Potter," I explained feebly. I'd said the same sentence many times before, but it seemed like years since I'd last said it. Actually, it probably had been years. "I made it up. It's about a third milk and two-thirds root beer." I had actually had invented it the summer before my parents died. "Not bad when it's proportioned right, sort of like a root beer float with melted ice cream."
He nodded, though I could tell he didn't like the sound of my Muggle butterbeer recipe. "Why don't you drink? Not that I have a problem with it," he added quickly, "I'm just curious."
"Dad let me have a sip of his beer when I was seven," I said, smiling slightly at the memory. "I hated it. Haven't had any alcohol since." Except butterbeer, I added, to myself this time.
He smiled slightly at my story. "Well, you might like it now," he reasoned. "Tastes can change in – what?" He looked me over. "Eleven years?"
I thought for a moment, doing a bit of math. "Twelve years," I corrected, randomly feeling old. "I'm nineteen."
He gave me a small smile. "Say I buy you a drink, you try it, and if you don't like, you don't have to finish it?"
I considered. One sip wouldn't hurt my ability to Apparate, would it? You probably had to drink a whole glass of alcohol to be affected by it. But George wouldn't be happy to know I was drinking with another guy, whether he existed in his dimension or not (though I didn't really know if the Phelps twins existed in the Potterverse or not). But this may be my last day with anything that concerned Pottermania, maybe even in this dimension, so why couldn't I go a little wild?
"All right," I said finally. Something that I'd said to George after Slughorn's party last Christmas ran through my mind: Judgment is the first thing to be affected by alcohol. I shook it away. I deserved a bit of fun. "As long as you don't use it to drug and rape me," I joked with a smile.
He smiled charmingly. "I assure you, miss, my intentions are pure." He hailed Lucy, who was passing by. "Lager for me, please, and...an appletini for the lady."
Her eyes widened slightly, and I realized she had recognized Oliver as well. "Coming right up." Lucy glanced at me and gave me a wink before she walked away, and I blushed lightly.
"What's your name, by the way?" Oliver asked.
I almost told him I was Ivy, but I caught myself. "Sadie," I said, remembering the name I had given everyone at the premiere who'd signed my notebook. "Sadie Williams. I understand if you don't remember, but you and James both signed my notebook at the premiere yesterday."
He studied me for a second. "Oh, yeah," he said finally. "I'm surprised I didn't recognize you. You're the one who reminded me of Ivy Wolfe."
The fan girl in me was jumping up and down, screaming, Oliver Phelps remembers me! I laughed nervously, trying to control the blush on my face that I knew was getting brighter. "Yeah, I get that a lot. J. K. Rowling even mentioned it when she signed my notebook." I smirked proudly. Maybe I really was Ivy, but that didn't stop me from getting excited at the memory of being recognized by the author of the books I practically worshiped. "There was a girl on the plane to America last month who said people were speculating that Ivy was the long-lost daughter of Lily Potter and Sirius Black, since she has dark red hair and grey eyes."
Oliver shrugged. "I've heard more far-fetched ideas."
"I suppose. Definitely not as bad as all that twincest fan fiction out there." I wrinkled my nose. "Ick."
"I agree."
Lucy then returned with our drinks. "Enjoy," she said, before winking at me again and turning away.
The appletini was predictably green, and there was a wedge of a green apple stuck on the rim of the martini glass. I picked it up and took a tentative sip. It tasted something like green apple candy. "Not bad," I said, surprised by the lack of what I was sure would have been an overpowering taste of vodka or rum or whatever they put in martinis. I still thought butterbeer was far better, but I decided that appletinis were the best Muggle drink.
Oliver grinned at me. "Thought you'd like it." He drank some of his beer. "So your twin friends, do they ever switch places on you?"
I frowned. "Not really," I said thoughtfully. "They might've when I was first learning to tell them apart, but I know they don't now. They wouldn't switch with each other's girlfriends." Or really, George would probably kill Fred if Fred fooled me into thinking he was George.
"You're seeing one of them?" I nodded. "How long have you been with him?"
I thought back to that night, the Battle of the Tower, Dumbledore dead... My stomach churned guiltily as I thought of Dumbledore, and I fought the sudden urge to slam back the rest of my drink. "Since June," I said quietly, though loud enough to be heard. "It's good." I sipped my drink again. I decided to drink all of it. Oliver was paying for it, after all, and I hoped that being a witch would help me sober up faster.
Oliver leaned a little closer to me. "You don't sound like it's good." He sounded genuinely concerned and fan-girl me got excited again.
I shook my head. "No, no, me and – and Justin are great, really." I winced slightly. George wouldn't like it, I knew, but Justin had been the first name that wasn't Harry Potter related that came to mind. "Just – the day we got together – " I paused, trying to choose my words carefully. "Well, a few things happened that – that I – I had the power to stop, and I tried, I really did, but it didn't work, and now everything's falling apart, and – " I stopped abruptly and shook my head. I was only digging a hole. "My relationship with Justin is wonderful, it's everything else in my life that's gone to shit."
He was frowning. "Would it help if you told me about it?"
For a moment, I wondered why Oliver Phelps was so concerned over some random American girl he barely knew. I shook my head. "You don't need to worry about me and my problems, Oliver. There's better things to think about." I suddenly noticed that Kailee had not returned from the bathroom. "Where is she?" I wondered to myself, looking around.
"Who?"
"Kailee," I said, looking in the direction of the bathroom. I was slightly worried. I could feel my wand in the hidden pocket of my jeans, but fought the urge to pull it out. "My friend. She went to the bathroom a while ago."
"The girl you were sitting with earlier?"
"Yeah."
"She's with James and Ben."
I looked where he had gestured and saw Kailee sitting at a table farther back in the bar, with James and a dark-haired guy I didn't know, talking with them animatedly. I was fairly certain Kailee didn't know who either of them were at all. "Hmm," I muttered, turning back to my drink. "Guess we're staying a bit longer."
"Do you live in Liverpool?" Oliver asked.
"Nah. I share an apartment in London with Kailee. We came out here 'cause I've never actually been to Liverpool in the two years I've been in England. Actually," I frowned at Oliver, "what are you three doing in Liverpool?"
He shrugged. "Ben lives in Wavertree, we're staying with him for a couple days."
I nodded, even though I had no clue what Wavertree (though I guessed it was an area of Liverpool, like Little Whinging was a part of Surrey), and drank some more of my drink.
An hour and a half later, Oliver and I were on our fourth round of beer and appletini. I was drunk and I knew it. Oliver was a bit sillier, but he was holding the alcohol far better than I was.
"Don't buy me anything else, okay, Ollie?" I slurred, my chin propped on my right hand. I told myself not to do magic or Apparate anywhere. I also kept repeating to myself, Don't mention Harry Potter, don't mention Harry Potter, in an attempt to keep myself from blabbing about the different universes. I nodded to myself. I hoped Kailee was sober. A taxi ride all the way to London would take a long time, and would probably be expensive.
"Wasn't going to, love," he replied, grinning at me. "Shouldn't have bought you that last one, but you kept asking – "
"You – you didn't have to listen, you know. Silly Ollie," I added with a giggle. I knew I was probably making a complete fool of myself, but I hardly cared. It wasn't like I would ever see him again. I had no idea if Oliver even liked being called Ollie, but he wasn't complaining. I knew James hated being called Jamie, though.
Oliver's hand covered mine. "I just can't resist such a pretty girl," he said cheekily.
I blushed and did some more giggling. "Aw, yer sweet!" I looked around. The table that Kailee had been sitting at with James and Ben was now only occupied by Ben, who was fiddling with his cell phone. I turned back to Oliver, still grinning. "Where'd Kailee go?"
"Don't worry, I saw her leave with James."
The smile fell from my face. "What?" I squeaked. "She can't leave! She has all my money in her purse!"
He squeezed my hand. "They didn't leave, they probably went to find an alley to snog in or something."
I barely heard him. "She has to take me home! She's not as drunk as I am, I can't Appar– drive, and – "
What Oliver did then completely surprised me. He leaned across the table and pressed his lips to mine, effectively silencing me.
My eyes widened for a moment, then drifted closed as I kissed him back. It was good, very nice. His fingers caressed the back of my right hand while his other hand cupped my cheek. I laced my fingers through his brown hair. It was soft, and a bit shorter than George's –
With sudden horror, I realized just what I was doing. With a gasp, I jerked away from Oliver and jumped up, knocking over two of my empty appletini glasses and nearly doing the same to my chair. I stared at him, and he stared at me. A passing bar patron frowned at us as he walked by on the way to the door, pulling on his jacket.
My hands were shaking as I tried to decide what to do, a million thoughts and questions racing through my mind. Why had he kissed me, a girl he met only a few hours ago and barely knew? Why had I kissed him back? What would George say? Oh, God, what do I do? What would George say?!
"I – I'm sorry," Oliver said finally, nervously. "I – I just – you're so – "
I breathed deeply, trying not to be as turned on as I was by that kiss. "You – you're a great guy, Oliver, but I..." I began slowly. This was really weird. Very rarely did guys ever flirt with me, except for George. I swallowed. "I'm in love with someone else. I'm sorry."
He shrugged, giving me a cute little half-smile. NO, NO! I scolded myself wildly. Not cute, ugly! Horribly, horribly ugly! "Don't be," he said. "Justin is a very lucky man."
I was confused for a moment, but then I remembered that I had told him I was dating Justin. "I'm the lucky one," I told him, truth in every bit of my sentence. I'd been lucky for a long time now. Lucky to be a witch, lucky to have gone to Hogwarts, lucky to have survived the war so long. And I was more lucky than anything to have George, who I loved, who loved me. I wouldn't have traded what I had with George for anything, anyone, in any world, dimension, or parallel universe.
"Hey Ivy," came Kailee's voice from right behind me. "What's going on?"
I jumped about a mile and spun around to face her. "Nothing!" I exclaimed too quickly, and far too defensively.
The smile she was wearing fell from her face and she frowned at me. I noticed her hair and clothes were quite a bit messier than it had been when I last saw her, and her lip gloss was smudged. Standing just behind her was James Phelps, looking just as disheveled as Kailee did.
I started laughing. "Nice lip gloss, James," I giggled. "It's a good color on you." Both Kailee and James turned red, and James's hand flew to his mouth to wipe it off.
"You've been drinking!" Kailee exclaimed suddenly in surprise.
I blushed, realizing again how much I was slurring. "Yes, yes, I'm too drunk to Appar– drive." I corrected quickly.
Kailee instinctively drew attention away from my blunder. "Bloody hell, you were supposed to stay sober!"
"You didn't?"
"No!"
"Uh, it's my fault," Oliver spoke up in my defense. "I bought her the appletini." Kailee exhaled in annoyance and glared at him.
"Relax," James said, and put an arm around her waist. Color rose again in her face as I smirked at her. "We can get you a taxi."
She frowned at him. "You don't have to – "
James waved a hand. "No trouble. Can't have you driving all the way to London drunk."
We hadn't driven, but the laws were basically the same. Kailee sighed reluctantly. "All right."
He grinned and kissed her cheek. "I'll see if they have a phone book." He headed for the bar.
I giggled at her. She looked so flustered. "Have fun?" I asked.
She glared. "Shut up."
I lowered my voice. "You're being careful?"
She gave me the most bizarre look that I had to laugh out loud. "Nosy," she muttered.
"No, no," I giggled. "I meant, y'know..." I did a little swish-and-flick motion in the air with an invisible wand.
"Oh!" She nodded. "Yes, of course I am."
"Don't lead him on too strongly," I warned in a serious whisper. "We may never see them again."
She actually looked a little sad and looked over at James, who was talking on a telephone hidden behind the bar. "I know."
"You fancy my little brother?" Oliver asked suddenly, grinning at her.
She looked confused, probably by who his 'little brother' was. "He's talking about James, Kailee," I supplied. "Oliver's older by thirteen minutes." Kailee looked a little surprised by my knowledge of this, and Oliver seemed a bit creeped-out. I blushed slightly and looked away from both of them. "They're my favorite actors..."
Oliver smirked and looked at Kailee. "I can tell he likes you," he continued teasingly. "Twin thing."
"And it wasn't totally obvious, 'cause everyone makes out with people they don't like for two hours." Oliver rolled his eyes at me.
James returned. "A car should be here in a few minutes," he reported.
Kailee shared a look with him, and then grabbed his hand. "We'll be back," she told us, and they hurried out of the pub.
Oliver laughed quietly. I sat down again and began nervously righting the glasses I knocked over. "It – it was nice meeting you, Oliver," I said quietly.
"We'll have to do it again," he said with a smile. I frowned. "Meet each other, I mean."
I swallowed. "That may not be possible," I said carefully.
He grinned. "Just because I'm famous doesn't mean we won't see each other again."
I sighed. Why did everything seem so much worse when you were drunk? Wait, alcohol's a depressant. Well, duh. "I've met enough famous people to know that's true," I said, thinking fondly of Harry and Dumbledore. "But it's me who won't be around to be seen, and I'm hardly famous at all."
Oliver frowned. "Is this because I kissed you?" he asked. "I know that was a stupid thing to do, and I won't do it again – "
I shook my head. "It's bigger than that, Oliver. Lives are at stake."
He was utterly confused. "Lives?" he repeated incredulously. "What are you talking about?"
I avoided his question. "If I could stay in contact with you, I would, believe me. But this situation I'm in isn't safe for you, for me, for anyone. All you need to know is that it's not really safe for me to be in contact with you."
He stared at me calculatingly. "Who are you, really?"
I spoke without missing a beat. "Ivy Wolfe, Muggle-born American witch fighting in the war against Voldemort."
I wondered for an instant if it had been smart to tell him that, but he laughed. "Not going to tell me, are you?"
Relieved, I smiled. "I'm just a girl who knows more than she should."
"Well, Ivy," he said with a laugh, "if you need a place to hide from Voldemort, give us a ring, all right?" He pulled a pen out of his back pocket and picked up a clean paper napkin. He scribbled a number on it and handed it to me. "That's our place in Birmingham."
I stared at the number for a moment, then looked up at him. "You realize you just gave a fan your personal phone number?"
"I trust you not to let it get all over the internet," he said with a smile.
I laughed a little. "You ought to be a bit more careful, y'know. Do you often go around picking up girls in pubs and getting them drunk?"
He grinned cheekily. "Nah, you're special."
I frowned. "Why me, though?" I asked.
"Why you what?"
"Why'd you decide to buy me a drink? Seriously, it's the sort of thing that happens in fan fiction."
Oliver smiled. "You looked like you needed someone." I frowned slightly. "And I told James and Ben that you were an attractive red-head, and they convinced me to go offer you a drink."
I blushed. Oliver Phelps thinks I'm attractive! the fan girl in me screamed, before I smacked said fan girl with a lead pipe.
"Seriously, though," he went on, "if you decide you want to get in contact with me, feel free to give me a ring."
I smiled. "If I get a chance, I'll be sure to."
James and Kailee appeared, somehow looking even more disheveled than before. "Taxi's here," said Kailee. "Ready?"
I stood, tucking Oliver's number into my pocket with my hidden wand. "Yeah." I looked at Oliver. "I really hope I'll see you again."
He nodded. "Same here."
I smiled slightly and turned away. I grabbed Kailee's arm and hurried her outside and into the cab before I was tempted to look back.
I bit my lip nervously as Kailee shut the door and said to the driver, "Soho Square, in London, please." The man nodded and drove away from the pub. Kailee sighed and sat back in her seat. "Well, that was crazy," she commented. I started to cry, and she looked at me in surprise. "What's the matter?"
"I can't believe I kissed him!"
"What?!" Kailee nearly shouted, causing the driver to glare at us in the rear-view mirror. "You what?!"
"He kissed me, and I kissed him back! Half of me wants to celebrate and the other half wants to kill the celebrating half! I'm gonna be half-dead!"
"You're not going to be half-dead," she said, and I could hear her eye roll in her voice.
I tried to control myself, but it wasn't working. "I'll be all dead if George finds out! Oh, he's gonna hate me!" I moaned, covering my face with my hands.
Kailee sighed and squeezed my shoulder. "He's not going to hate you, he won't find out. We'll get you home and into bed, and when you've got a hangover tomorrow, I'll tell George you're sick 'cause you ate something funny."
I looked at her in shock. "You want me to lie to him?"
She glared. "Do you want George to know you kissed some other bloke?"
"Of course not, but he already knows I'm keeping the truth about how I knew you a secret from him! What if he can tell I'm keeping something else from him?"
"Tell him he's being stupid."
I glared at her. "You're being stupid," I countered. "You're not helping!"
She sighed. "Well, you said Oliver kissed you first, and you're piss-drunk, so if he finds out, he'll probably understand." I shook my head, rubbing at my eyes. Somehow, I doubted he would understand. He loved me, and I loved him, and if he knew I had kissed Oliver back... "Anyway, he's a celebrity. I doubt you'll ever see him again."
I shrugged, and then pulled the white napkin out of my pocket. "He gave me his phone number," I said morosely, showing it to her.
She grabbed it. "Blimey, he must really like you! Must trust you too, to give a fan his number!"
"It's his and James's place in Birmingham," I said. "Told me to call him if I wanted to talk or something." I sighed. "I'll probably never have a reason to use it anytime soon."
"So you're not keeping it?"
I shrugged. "I'll keep it. Something might come up. It's good to be prepared."
Two hours (only possible after Kailee decided to speed things along with her magic) and almost £200 later, Kailee and I were stumbling up the stairs of our apartment building, in the Potterverse.
"Next time, we're getting a Portkey from the Ministry," Kailee said angrily. "You're lucky I had so much Muggle money with me for emergencies."
"I didn't think taxis cost that much!"
"They do when you want to go two hundred miles!"
"Well, I'm sorry I only had forty pounds left!"
"You owe me, Wolfe."
"Duly noted, my dear."
"Stop with the English accent," she exclaimed loudly, "you're awful at it!"
"Shh! Other people live here who like sleeping!"
"I don't care!" We stopped in front of the door. "They deserve to know what a git you are!"
"I'm not a git, you butt!"
"Bitch!"
"Whore!"
"Skank!"
"Chick fight!"
Kailee and I both started at the unexpected voice. George was standing in the open doorway of our apartment.
"Well, don't let me stop you," he said, looking excitedly from me to Kailee. "Please continue!"
I giggled, still feeing awfully drunk. "You're such a freak, Weasley," Kailee growled as she pushed past him. "I'm going to bed!" George watched her go, and a moment later, I heard the bedroom door slam.
He frowned, turning back to me. "Is she drunk?"
I laughed, nervously this time. "Uh. A bit." It was odd that I still felt so tipsy. Maybe magic didn't help you sober up faster, maybe it made it take longer.
"Do you know it's three in the morning?" he asked. "You said you'd be back by midnight."
I wanted to go to him, but I knew if I took one step I would give away how drunk I was. He wouldn't like that I'd been drinking. He also wouldn't like that I kissed Oliver! I blushed. "I, uh, I guess we kinda lost track of time."
He studied me. "You're not drunk too, are you?"
I bit my lip. "I actually drank more than Kailee."
"You're joking." He was gaping at me in disbelief.
"Nope." I tried walk as gracefully as possible into the apartment, but like I predicted, I stumbled on my first step and George caught my arm. "Heh. See?"
"But you don't like alcohol, you told me so yourself!" he said as he led me into the apartment.
"Apparently, though, I like alcohol when it doesn't taste like alcohol." I headed down the short hallway toward the bedroom I shared with Kailee. "Appletinis are wonderful, by the way." I tried to open the door, but it was locked. "Kailee!"
"Go away!"
I sighed. "Can't I at least have my PJs?" There was a pause, then a few moments later, she opened the door, shoved my pajamas into my arms, and slammed the door. George looked shocked, but I just sighed and crossed the hall to the bathroom. "I'll be back," I said, before closing the door.
"So you had fun in Ireland?" George asked through the door.
I nodded, then remembered he couldn't see me. "Yeah. It's very green." George chuckled. "And the pub we went to was in Liverpool."
"Why Liverpool?"
I left the bathroom. "It's where the Beatles are from," I said as I dropped my dirty clothes outside the bedroom door, then continued on toward the living room with George. "My mom was a huge fan, and – well, I've wanted to go for a while." Half my reason for going was because Mom had wanted to go, but had never been able to find the time, or the money.
I went around to the front of the couch and pushed the coffee table away from it, then started pulling off the cushions. George stared. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"This thing is supposed to pull out into a bed," I said. I found a black metal bar and pulled. Miraculously, the thing started to unfold, and I pulled it out the rest of the way. The thin mattress was covered with a white cotton fitted sheet, but there wasn't a top sheet or blankets. I sat on it tentatively, and when I was sure it wasn't fold up on me, I laid down, my legs still hanging off the bed, and sighed heavily.
"All right, love?" He sat on the bed and leaned over me so he could touch my hair.
I thought guiltily of Oliver again, and I blushed. "Yeah," I said quickly. "Just...tired. Still drunk."
His fingers traced along my cheek and down my neck. "Can I stay with you tonight?" he asked. "I've missed you."
"I missed you," I muttered, distracted by his fingers on my skin. "If you promise not to take advantage of me in my drunken state," I said half-jokingly. Oliver. Gah! I mentally kicked myself.
"Never," he smiled.
I pushed myself up. "There's no sheets," I pointed out.
"Here." He grabbed one of the couch cushions from the floor and with a flick of his wand, he transfigured it into a neatly folded scarlet sheet. A silk sheet.
His ears turned as red as the sheets, and I giggled despite myself. "George, what ARE you suggesting?" I teased. His mouth opened, but he seemed to have no idea what to say. I giggled again and took them from him. "Relax, George, they're just sheets." I shook it out and once he was situated, I lay down with him and pulled the sheet over both of us. I moved to kiss his cheek, but he turned and caught my lips with his.
All thought left me as his lips moved slowly against mine. It was heavenly. The way his arms held me impossibly close, the way his tongue slid leisurely against mine. I tangled my fingers in his hair, moaning quietly into the kiss. His arms tightened around me briefly, before he pulled his lips from mine.
We stared at each other for a moment, both breathing heavily. Then he kissed my lips again lightly. "I love you, my darling," he whispered.
Those words meant more to me than anything ever could. "I love you, George," I replied, and it didn't seem like enough just to say it, like I needed to do more, but I didn't know what.
He held up his wand, and a moment later, the lights went out. I heard a clatter as he dropped his wand on the long table behind the couch. I sighed in a way that I hoped sounded tired, and I settled myself against his chest. I could hear his heart pounding, and I could imagine mine sounded just the same.
"Goodnight, love."
"'Night."
I listened as his heartbeat slowed and his breathing became deep and even as he fell asleep. I continued listening, hoping it would lull me to sleep, or at least drain out the thoughts I didn't want to think at the moment. No such luck.
I loved George so much. I'd do anything to keep him happy. But could I lie about this? It wasn't like lying about the two dimensions, because that wasn't really a lie. That was more of a promise to explain everything when the war was over, so my little brother and all the other Muggles in the Rowling Dimension could remain safe from Voldemort. Lying about this didn't save anyone. It only protected me from loosing George, which I didn't think I could handle.
I bit my lip, trying to look at it differently. Oliver Phelps didn't exist here. I would never see either of the Phelps twins again, except in the sixth and seventh movies.
Oliver didn't exist here, so the kiss didn't exist. I would never see Oliver in person again.
I thought of the phone number that was still in my jeans pocket, and I bitterly forced myself to close my eyes and fall into a restless sleep.
Author's Note: The plot thickens! MUAHAHA!
Disclaimer Continuation: I've never met James and Oliver Phelps (sob), so their personalities are fabricated from guessing on my part, accounts from other fans, and videos of interviews on YouTube (which I don't own). I also have no idea if James and Oliver have their own apartment. Why would I? I've never even been to England.
Write in Raine: (In response to your chapter two review) You got it all right off the bat! Wow! I totally started laughing when I read your review. I really didn't expect anyone to guess all three of them!
Kudos if you can tell me which Beatles song the chapter title is from. I think it'd be fairly easy if you know any of their biggest hits. And don't forget the soccer (football!) match thing I mentioned at the beginning.
As usual, I'm not sure when chapter eight will be up. It's the first week of school, I'm living in a dorm for the first time, and I'm just trying to get settled in. My favorite class so far is Latin. It is so fun! So, if you're ever wildly curious about what's going on in my life, or if you just want to know why I haven't updated in ages (if I have a good reason), I put little update things on my bio on my author's page. Irregularly, of course.
I hope you enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it until I got lazy. And then as I was finishing it yesterday, I was enjoying it more. It was funny. It didn't really hit me at first that I'd finished.
Anyway, love you all. Please review! You know how much I love them! And please don't hate me for the Oliver thing. You need to save your hate for later. I'm totally not joking. (Cough)foreshadowing(cough).