Hearing footsteps, Alf's footsteps, George marveled at how quickly young CJ had persuaded him. He set his face into a fairly stern look, he hoped...but not one of anger. And waited for Alf to get there.
The boy came up short, taking a look at his face. George could tell immediately that Alf hadn't slept so well, either, and that cheered him a little.
But what came next surprised him.
"I know we have to talk, but, Dad, CJ's hurt." Alf said, quickly.
George blinked. "What? He was just down here...what happened?" He asked.
"Glamour charm." Alf said at once. "His old man seems to have really worked him over...magically and muggle wise. He didn't want me to tell you...but I knew I had to."
George felt slightly sick. He was a modest healer at best. "Can you tell how bad?"
Alf seemed to consider that for a moment. "He told me his father cursed him and…" His son blanched and George automatically put a hand out to steady him. "Hit him with a cane."
"Okay." Well, looked like Michelle was right. "You did the right thing, telling me. He could be more hurt than he realizes." He squeezed Alf's shoulder; at this particular moment, Nocturn Alley didn't seem to matter much. "Let's go on upstairs…" George, with a wave of his wand, accio'd his basic healing supplies and steered his son towards the rooms.
"Dad…I think CJ believes that you'll think he's bad or something." Alf added. "I think that's why he didn't want me to tell you."
Right, that made sense…no doubt the kid's father had done his share of mental abuse over the years. "Well, we'll have to make him see that I haven't changed how I feel about him."
CJ was huddled in the corner when they came in. Alf stood off to the side, looking anxious; CJ did lift his head at Alf for just a second; George couldn't miss the withering glare, and Alf, with resignation, went and sat on the other bed.
"Easy now, CJ. Alf knows I can help you." George tried to sooth. CJ just shoved his head harder in the pillow. He sat on the edge of the bed beside the boy. "Let's start with the obvious stuff, hm? Can I see where you're hurt?"
A muffled sound that clearly seemed to be "No!" seemed to come from the pillow.
George very gently touched CJ's head. "I know you're embarrassed…but this isn't your fault, CJ." There was another, longer, mumble. "Sorry…didn't catch that one…my fault; my hearing is only half what it ought to be." He tried joking.
CJ stuck his head up. "Youshouldn'tbenicetomeI'materribleperson." He hiccupped. "Andifmyfatherfindsoutyouknow…" He paused, and tried to force his words out. "He'll…take…me…out…of …schoollllll." CJ's head slammed back in to the pillow.
"Ah." George eased him. "CJ, if I promise not to let your father know that I'm aware of what he's done, will you let me take a look at you?"
CJ gulped. "Promise?" He choked out.
"But Dad…" Alf started, but George quieted him with a glance.
"I promise, CJ. This stays in the room." George rubbed CJ's head gently, and in response the child began to lift up his shirt. George's nausea returned full force; Amos had absolutely brutalized his own son.
"Thanks, kiddo." George said, moving the shirt a bit further up. He rose to get some of those supplies and caught sight of Alf. His son's face was the color of skim milk. "Alf…" George kept his voice low, as he knelt before him. "Do me a favor, okay? I think CJ is a bit uncomfortable with you seeing this, and I don't think you're real happy about it either. There are some dishes downstairs…will you do them for me, please? I'll come down when I'm done here…and we can talk."
Alf nodded once. He reached over and gave George a quick hug, which George answered with a little extra squeeze, and the boy darted from the room. So he went ahead and gathered what he had, as well as a potion that should help the kid to sleep. That, more than anything, would be necessary right now.
WWWWWWW
An hour later, George came downstairs. He'd left CJ sound asleep, with most of the physical damage taken care of. The potion would keep him knocked out for a few hours, which should help with the effects of what he was afraid had been the cruciatus curse. Now he had to speak with Alf…about everything.
There was a part of him that just wanted to forget yesterday had ever happened. A big part of him, in fact. But that would be the easy way out. However much good Alf had done today, they still had to deal with his disobedience yesterday. George still wasn't quite sure how he planned on dealing with it, but before he decided anything he needed to hear what, exactly, had happened, from Alf's point of view. Something just didn't make sense
He got downstairs, and discovered the dishes not only done and put away, but the pie ingredients that he'd just started getting ready when Alf had come to get him were now neatly measured and ready for him to prep. No sign of Alf, though; George worried for a second, and then remembered that nasty argument they'd had once back in Salem, and how George had feared Alf had run away. But he hadn't, and his son had made a point of saying that no matter how much trouble he was in, he never would. So George went on in to the living room.
In fact, Alf was there, on the sofa, head leaning against the arm, watching the magically twinkling lights on the Christmas tree. He didn't look happy, but whether from the conversation they needed to have, or the situation with CJ, George couldn't guess.
The boy looked up at him. "CJ okay?" He asked softly.
George came over and sat next to him. To his surprise, Alf leaned against him, although tentatively, as if he were afraid George wouldn't let him. George made a point of draping an arm gently over his son. "Not okay, exactly, but I did the best I could, and he's getting some much needed rest now."
Alf nodded. "Is he still mad at me?"
"He might be. But he'll come round." George promised. He took a deep breath, but before he could say anything to bring other subjects up, Alf took the lead. Although rather obliquely.
"Great. CJ's mad at me, I'm mad at Teddy…I'm glad Eileen's in America, I'd like to have one friend left by the time I get back to school."
Unexpected. "And before I guess wrongly, care to tell me exactly why you're mad at Teddy?" He prodded.
Alf frowned. "Because he kept his mouth shut and left me hanging." He rubbed at his eyes, and then looked up at George. "Dad…" He paused.
George saw a war going on in his son's mind, but he really wasn't sure what over. "I'd like you to explain things to me from your perspective, Alf." He said.
"I want to…I'm just not sure…" He started chewing his lower lip, always a sign that Alf was wrangling over something monumental to him. George didn't try to force anything. He knew Alf when he got into these moods; he'd have to get this out in his own way. "Right. The first part is easy." He sighed. "I didn't want to go within ten feet of Nocturn Alley. I was buying Gram a scarf when I looked up and saw where Teddy had wandered off to. I went after him and caught up in that area by the Cauldron. We argued...he said he just wanted to look, and I told him if he did I'd leave him and go tell you what he was doing."
That was startling, and George felt a little relief. Alf at least didn't start out stupidly. "So Teddy called your bluff?"
"It wasn't a bluff." Alf's face got slightly red, and he took a deep breath. "When he walked towards the Alley, I turned and ran to get you….but…" Alf looked downright angry for a few seconds, and he shook his head. "I can't…anyway…I heard him yell, after I'd run off, and I realized those stones must have gotten him. I went back to help him, but I stood on the fringe…I wanted to see if he knew where Uncle Harry was and I was going to go get him. Turns out Uncle Harry had been coming out of the Cauldron, and he heard Teddy too. Unfortunately found us."
"NOT unfortunately, Alf…something bad might have happened to him, even if you were trying to do the right thing." George felt half of the weight falling off of his back…the story made sense, and he was certain Alf was being honest with him. But half the weight remained…something had clearly been omitted from this story. "Alf…why on earth didn't you tell me this yesterday? Why was it so important that Teddy tell me? I would hope that you know me well enough to believe I'd listen to you." He looked straight in to Alf's eyes, trying to understand.
Those eyes went dark suddenly, dark and angry, and Alf's voice shook a bit as he tried to keep himself controlled. "I couldn't tell you yesterday, because I was afraid I'd say something really bad. So when I didn't, I thought Teddy would."
"Why would you say something bad?" George reached over to stroke Alf's head, and suddenly his son pulled away, crossing his arms in front of himself defensively. "Alf?" He asked, confused. "What's wrong? Will you please tell me, because if you let me imagine it, it could get ugly."
Alf took a very deep breath. "Are you going to hook up Professor Morgainne?"
That took the wind right out of him. "WHAT?" He spluttered.
Alf was actually shaking, and the words burst out him, now that the dam had been broken. "I saw you, Dad!. When I went to get you, to tell you how stupid Teddy was being, I saw you kissing her!" The boy's chin jutted up. "How could you do that? I know I said she wasn't as inhuman as I thought she was…but that didn't mean I wanted you to get together with her. I mean, Dad, she's married!"
George ran his hands frantically through his hair. If he were watching this from outside, he would laugh, it was so funny. But living it, with his son having drawn all the wrong conclusions from Angelina's stunt…not funny at all! "Alf, listen to me…" He tried to calm the boy down.
"No, Dad!" Alf jumped up and started to pace. "I was so thrown by seeing you that I just couldn't…just couldn't talk to you. I can't believe that you'd rather have her than…than…" He shook his head furiously. "It will be terrible! She hates me; she'll cause problems between us; heck, she's already caused problems between us! And then she'll turn around and break your heart again, and you don't deserve that, and I don't want to watch it happen!" Alf's lower lip was trembling now. "And I couldn't talk to you yesterday, because as upset as I am now is nothing compared to how I felt then…I just kept seeing the two of you…kissing…ugh!"
George jumped up and grabbed Alf's arms firmly. "ALFRED WEASLEY." He intoned sternly. Alf gulped and came still, looking up at him. "I swear to you, on the grave of my twin, that I am not dating, hooking up with, having an affair with, sneaking out with, exchanging spit with, or whatever way you kids are putting it now, Professor Morgainne." Before Alf could speak, George gently put a finger over his son's lips. "I know what you saw…and you were not nearly as surprised as I was. Come, Alf…let me tell you my story."
Alf, calming gradually, nodded, and they went back to sitting on the sofa, and George began speaking.
"I don't know why she did it. She came to the store and I thought she wanted just to talk. And remembering what you told me this morning, I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Angelina and I had been friends once…and yes, we were more than friends. But I had no interest in that. Honestly? A big part of why I went to talk to her was knowing that she was your teacher, and you didn't need me to piss her off. So there we were, talking, and then she began to ramble about how it was really me she loved all along." George rubbed at his forehead, remembering the headache the whole thing had given him yesterday. "Then she kissed me."
Alf was watching him, his breathing now more steady. "Um…but you didn't exactly look like you minded."
Oh, God. Why had Alf happened to come looking for him at that moment? "Like I said, it took me by surprise. Alf, she and I did date once; there was a part of me…what's the muggle expression, that something is like riding a bicycle? Well, it was like all of our history came back, like I was twenty again for a minute." George sighed and leaned back. "But everything you thought of, came rushing back at me ten fold. Firstly, I am not in love with her. I think you know full well I am in love with someone else. Secondly, she is married, to somebody whom from all I have heard she loved back. Thirdly, she's running again…she ran from me when it got tough, and she's doing the same thing to him now. I am not a fool, Alf. She's not exactly dependable. And, as you so aptly pointed out, she has not been kind to you, and I will not let anybody in my life who doesn't want you there too."
They were silent for a moment, staring at each other. Then Alf hugged him. "I'm sorry, Dad. I wouldn't have disobeyed you, although I guess I managed to anyway. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but honestly I just couldn't get the words out without losing it."
"I understand." George hugged him back, resting his chin on his head. "And I'm sorry I yelled at you like that. Part of why I got so angry was that I was really raw over what happened with Angelina, but it wasn't fair of me to go off at you."
They were interrupted by a tapping at the window; a snow white owl fluttered there with a letter. Harry's owl, George knew. He would never have one that wasn't snow white, like Hedwig had been. George rose and retrieved the letter, sliding it open. He gave a little sigh and a wry smile. "You can stop being angry at Teddy, Alf."
Alf came over to him. "Why? Did he tell Uncle Harry?"
"Yes, as soon as he could. Turns out that in the time you were finding me in a compromising position with your professor, Teddy got hit by a spell in Nocturn Alley that made it impossible for him to say anything he really wanted to say for twelve hours. Stray dark wizard didn't much care to be interrupted."
"Oh!" Alf felt hugely relieved. "I thought…we had said some ugly things before I went to get you; I thought he might have kept quiet to get back at me." Alf glanced at George. "Is he in much trouble?"
George looked over the letter. "He is grounded for the rest of vacation, Christmas day excepted. He's also got a broken ankle."
"Ah." Alf drew his shoulders up. "Am I in much trouble?"
George's lips twitched slightly. "Not this time, I suppose." He relented. "Two things though, Alf. You knew what the right thing to do was; you need to trust me to be there for you, no matter what, like you did this morning. Got it?"
"Right." Alf nodded. "Um, and the second?"
George gently reached in to Alf's collar and pulled out the chain his son wore around his neck, the one that held a spelled coin. "You need to think, sometimes." George smirked. "You didn't need to go find Harry, even if you didn't want to actually talk to me at the moment."
"Oh." Alf blushed. "Um, I guess that wasn't real bright, was it?"
"I attribute it to the shock you had. I can understand, since I was in a fair amount of shock myself. But anyway…how do you feel about giving me a hand with these pies? I'm thinking of running one over to Michelle later…" He started steering Alf towards the kitchen, when the boy came to a dead stop. "Alf?"
"Oh, Dad!" Alf put his hands on his head. "I didn't think of it at the time…first I was so worried about Teddy, and after I was so flipped out by what I saw…oh, no!"
"What? Alf, you've got gray again…did you see your Uncle Ron kissing Romilda Vane?" George tried to lighten up the mood.
"Huh? Uh, no. I, um, passed Professor Fabry on the way to get you, and she looked really, really angry, but I didn't have time to process it. Dad, she was coming from the area of Fortescues. She must have seen…" Alf's voice trailed off.
He didn't need to continue. George's stomach sank to his toes. "Oh, no!" He repeated Alf's earlier lament. "She can't have!"
"I don't see how she could have missed it. You were right in the window." Alf pointed out.
They kept walking in to the kitchen, with George feeling exhausted. "Every time…every time I think I've gotten to a decent point with her where we can go forward, something stupid happens!" George tied on an apron, and looked listlessly around. "Stupid pies!" He moaned.
"They're not stupid." Alf nudged him. "C'mon, Gram is expecting one too, and, well, if you decide to bring one to Miss Fabry, well, at least now you're prepared when she throws it at you."
"But how do I even start to explain this? Look how much it upset you!" George started mashing sweet potato pulp.
"You just need to find a time to talk to her. Before Professor Morgainne does, preferably." Alf came up beside him, cracking eggs.
"Yeah, because she and I are so good at that." He sighed, then gave himself a little shake. "No, not this time. I am going to find her, and I am going to explain everything, and I will make her understand what happened." He paused. "Tomorrow's Christmas Eve…the Hogwarts faculty has a party in Hogsmeade, at the Three Broomsticks. I'll find her then."
"Won't professor Morgainne be there too?" Alf asked, pausing mid whisk.
George gave a knowing smile. "I imagine so. And I think I'd quite like her to hear what I have to say to Michelle. Because I plan on making it loud and clear."
"Well, you're clearly quite capable of the loud, at least." Alf ducked to evade the peel George threw at him, and they managed, if not a laugh, at least a smile.
WWWWWWW
"Ah, Michelle…there you are…I'd like you to meet a very dear friend of mine…" Minerva McGonagall approached Michelle Fabry in the great hall, a tall, round faced wizard with a genial smile at her side. "Neville Longbottom, this is Michelle Fabry; she teaches Muggle Studies and Advanced Healing…so no doubt you two will find much in common. Neville…" The headmistress beamed proudly, "Was one of the best Herbology students in the history of the school, and took a Master's level course at Oxford's Wizard branch. He's just interviewed for Professor Sprout's position, now that she's retiring."
"Ah…" Michelle held out her hand, which Neville shook enthusiastically. Probably fortunate for the young man that he didn't know she was well aware of his name. A rather pudgy, somewhat slow but affable Neville Longbottom had figured prominently in George's manuscript. "Pleased to meet you. Professor Sprout has been a joy to work with, but I know she's looking forward to a quiet life of not gardening."
Neville smiled back at her. "And I'm pleased as well…too bad we didn't have a healing course when I was a student here, I could have used one."
"Potions." The headmistress said, sagely, and Neville answered with a good natured grin.
"I got better at them after I left school." He replied. "But true enough I'd have never qualified for Healing."
Minerva's attention was called away for a moment by Hagrid, who was still completing decorations for the Christmas feast, and Michelle turned back to the young wizard she'd just met. His entire aspect was agreeable. He also gave the impression of being larger than he actually was, she realized, because of his round face and wide smile.
It was funny to think of…she's read the news reports of the battle of Hogwarts. This young man, so basically pleasant, who had once been a rather clumsy boy, had also been a hero and a leader of the resistance against Hogwarts occupation. People, and what they could do when faced with a challenge, were really quite remarkable things.
"So…you'd be starting next fall, I assume?" Michelle asked.
"If I get the job." Neville modestly replied. "Yes. I hope I do; I had some great times in this place, and I love working with kids. And really, there's quite a remarkable hot house here; some really rare specimens…" He blushed and laughed. "Sorry…any of my friends will tell you that once you get me talking shop, I'm like a runaway train!"
She understood…she was the same way about teaching in general. "Well, I hope you do get the job…the last candidate I saw was cranky and about two hundred years old." Michelle wasn't even sure she was exaggerating the age. "One cranky professor here is enough." She added.
"Yeah, Professor McGonagall told me about Angelina…er, Professor Morgainne, that is. I was at school with her, you know, a few years behind." Neville nodded towards the hall that led to the Potions dungeon. "You know, Defense Against the Dark Arts was a cursed position when I was here; I wonder now if the curse didn't spread to potions. At the least, the subject seems to bring out the worst in people."
Michelle raised her eyebrows. "I should warn you, then, that the niece of Professor Snape is currently attending school, first year."
"Ah…thanks." Neville rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I know Snape had a whole lot of issues…" He frowned. "Come to think of it…so does Angelina…" He came up short. "I was surprised when I saw her earlier that she was going to be at the Cauldron tonight."
"Pardon?" Michelle asked, confused. The faculty who resided in Castle over the holiday had an annual tradition of going to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, she knew, but that was tomorrow night. And Morgainne gave no indication that she was social at most times.
Except in ice-cream shops in London. She added mentally.
"Oh, sorry…a bunch of us who were at school together during the 'You Know Who Years' get together at the Leaky Cauldron." Neville rambled on, oblivious to her confusion. "The first Christmas after the war, Ron Weasley set it up…I think he wanted to get his brother George out of the house…he called it the 'We're all Through With You Know Who.' Each year one of us tries to out do that with a creative title…I can't wait to see what Ginny comes up with, it's her turn. Anyway, for the first time Professor Morgainne indicated she was going to be there, although I can't imagine why."
Funny. Michelle thought she knew exactly why Angelina Johnson-Morgainne suddenly wanted to attend the little reunion!
Neville looked sheepish all at once. "And here I am, running off at the mouth about a bunch of people you don't know at all."
"Not exactly true." She said, managing a smile at him despite the vision that had just flitted through her mind. "I teach George Weasley's son, you know…and I taught him in America as well."
"Well, I feel better then…you must meet the Weasley's some time…terrific people. Haven't met young Alf yet; hear he's the spitting image of the twins…"
At that moment Minerva waved over to Neville, who made his excuses and left. Michelle was a tad relieved; he had clearly been nervous, and clearly when nervous, Neville talked. A lot.
Meanwhile, she returned to correcting exams, all the while wondering what Angelina was going to try to pull tonight. And how, exactly, was she going to counter it?
"So…did you like him?" The headmistress came up upon her quite suddenly.
"Um, yes, seems a nice guy." She said, puzzled. "A bit chatty."
"He's really quite brave, you know. I can't even begin to tell you what he did, organizing students into that resistance. Really came in to his own, then." Minerva played with her hat nervously, and a light bulb went off in Michelle's head.
"Oh, my God. We're you trying to set me up with him?" She sat back, mouth agape.
Minerva looked innocent. "Would I do something like that? Just because two of my favorite young people…" Michelle scoffed at the term young, though she blushed at the word favorite. "…happen to be single, and happen to both be teachers, potentially at least…and just because I happen to introduce them, doesn't mean I am setting them up."
"Right." Michelle smiled at her softly. "That explains why he was so nervous." She cleared her throat. "I like him as a friend already, Minerva…I can tell that much about him. But…I may be single, but I'm really not available."
"Ah." Minerva looked quite wise. "I was wondering. You sat with George Weasley during parent's day."
Now Michelle blushed more deeply. "We were friends in America."
"Friends. Quite." Minerva gave her what just might have been a discrete wink. "Unfortunate for Mr. Longbottom, but I understand. However." She fiddled with her sleeves, making a show of looking elsewhere. "If you are quite serious about not being available to others, I might suggest you make yourself clear to Mr. Weasley. I believe somebody else is doing the same thing."
"Hm. And as that somebody else is a former student of yours, just out of curiosity, which side would you be on?" Michelle honestly wondered.
"I am on the side that would make George Weasley happy." She said at once. "And although I think I might know which side that is, it doesn't mean that he's going to see that, unless you make him."
Without another word, Minerva McGonagall, who may have just given Michelle her blessing, glided out of the hall, singing the Hogwarts school song, at dirge melody.