On the far side of Neville's living room, beside the hearth, a familiar clanging sound rang in the air, and Nina turned to find Sally atop her Hogwarts trunk, nibbling at the lock of his cage anxiously.
"Naturally," Augustus said, glaring approvingly at the pile of luggage as Neville helped Nina to her feet. "Is this everything?"
"Ah—I think so," Nina said, folding the cloth over itself so it covered any streaks of her vomit and tucking it into her pocket hesitantly.
"Very good, good..." she mused, pulling Nina's Nimbus from her handbag and setting atop the rest of the luggage. "Neville, would you take her stuff to her room?"
"My—room? No, wait—" Neville halted as he made to stride across the living room towards her things.
"Come now, I'm not about to send you out into the night all by your lonesome. Especially a girl of your size,"
"Gran's right, Nina. It's pitch black outside." Neville said.
"You can leave tomorrow morning after you've had some supper."
Nina shook her head determinedly. Despite her sagging eyelids and growling stomach, she was bent on making it to Grimmauld Place. She had to. What if Mrs Weasley was in distress? Or Fred was on one of his rampages? She needed to see for herself that they were all okay as soon as possible. The sense of urgency within her was stronger now than ever. "I have to leave. Tonight. I don't even know if Mr Weasley—"
"Ah," Augusta cut her short. "I forgot. I received news this afternoon from a member of the Order that Arthur is doing fine. He should be making a full recovery in the coming weeks."
"But..." She looked from Neville to his grandmother and back again. "I... I have to see the Weasleys! Please, Mrs Longbottom."
A moment of silence passed between them in which nobody spoke, though what seemed like a staring match had erupted between Nina and Augusta, in which neither intended losing.
Finally, Augusta sighed, looking away. "Very well, very well. I'll summon a member of the Order, then,"
"Thank you," Nina said gratefully as she turned and marched swiftly from the room.
"You're in an awful hurry," said Neville, and she thought she detected a bitter edge in his voice.
She decided to ignore it. "I'm sorry, Neville. Really, I am. But I have to see them as soon as I can."
Neville nodded, flashing what looked to be a forced smile. "It's okay. I don't mind it. I'll see you around then?"
"Yeah," She nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely,"
Catching her off guard, Neville placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her. In her surprise she leaned away from him, causing him to miss and instead plant his lips on her nose.
"Ahem,"
Neville jumped away from Nina in an instant, and in the doorway stood his grandmother, a single thinly-plucked eyebrow raised and her arms interlocked.
"Terribly sorry to interrupt," she said, and to Nina's left Neville seemed to be shrivelling up in embarrassment. "But I've sent for somebody. You'll be taking the Knight Bus, Nina."
"Oh, yes," Nina said, nodding curtly. "T-thank you. Who's coming to get me?"
Augusta's nose crinkled in revulsion. "Somebody by the name of Mundungus Fletcher. I've heard all but good things about him."
Nina hesitated. Just the sound of that name brought the smell of his disgusting pipe to her nose, its pungent odour reminiscent of the Slytherin boys' Quidditch locker room. "Oh,"
As if on cue, a loud crack resounded outside of the foyer, and what sounded like a wheezing man's coughing could be heard clearly from the other side of the door.
"'Allo?" A loud rapping from behind her caused Nina to jump slightly. "I'm 'ere! Lemme in so I don't freeze my arse orf out 'ere, won't you?"
Augusta suddenly looked extremely weary. "Neville? The door,"
Tentatively, Neville unlocked and opened the door a small amount, only for a tiny wizard around Nina's height to burst inside, fresh snow powdering his tuft of ginger hair. He cupped his hands to his mouth and breathed on them, desperate for some kind of warmth. "Blimey, it's colder than a bucket of penguin sh—"
"Evening, Mr Fletcher," Mrs Longbottom said sharply, eyeing Mundungus with great dislike.
Mungdungus turned round, his wispy brows raised. "'Ave we met?"
"I don't believe we've had the displeasure yet, no."
"Hello, Mundungus," Nina said quickly, eager to dissolve some of the rising tension. "Er—are you excited for Christmas?"
Ignoring her completely, Mundungus stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger in her face. "Now, see 'ere, lady—"
"I'll—uh—get your trunk, Nina," said Neville, edging around the conflict with her as they collected her things.
"Careful where you're pointing that finger, Mr Fletcher," Mrs Longbottom said scathingly. "I wouldn't want you to lose it."
"So we're talkin' big now, are we?"
"Hard to do for such a little man, I know," Augustus sneered, staring down at him disdainfully.
Just as Mundungus was about to explode, Neville hurried Nina, who had Sally's cage clasped in her hands, out the front door and into the blizzard that awaited them.
"Jeez—" he muttered in surprise, shielding his eyes from the blasting snow as he lugged her trunk down the steps. "Come on, the road's this way,"
Nina laughed; not at Neville, but in sheer happiness. Leaning her head back, she stuck out her tongue and caught a flurry of snowflakes with it. Even with the impending snowstorms and gales of icy wind that chilled her, she relished every moment of winter; she always found herself uncomfortable and far too hot in the summer sun.
"Are you mad?!" Neville called back to her, bewildered. "You'll freeze to death if you stay like that!"
When Sally crewed unhappily in his cage, Nina continued towards Neville, grinning still. "It's beautiful!" she cried over the wind. "It's—amazing!"
"I think I'll stick with spring, thanks," he yelled, a smile tugging at his lips as he pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it into the street, summoning the astonishing, triple-decker, violet Knight Bus in a matter of seconds.
From behind them, a door could be heard slamming open, and in an instant Mundungus had dashed to Nina's side, his bright hair smoking slightly and his complexion rather pale.
"Right, time we set orf then, Nancy," he said just as a pimply young conductor stepped out onto the bus.
"Welcome to the—"
"Thanks, mate," Mundugus said abruptly, snatching Nina's owl cage from her and shoving it into his arms, nervously glancing back at Neville's house. "Come on, then, come on,"
Neville switched the handle over to the conductor, which he grabbed with his free hand and struggled to pull on board. He turned to Nina, squinting against the blasting force of the storm.
"Happy Christmas, Nina,"
"You too," She smiled back at him, and as he made to lean down once more Nina felt Mundungus pull at the back of her sweater and tug her onto the bus. Neville stood there, watching her go with a wave. Then, with a lurch forward, the Knight Bus disappeared from his sight and Nina found that she was unable to ignore the guilt in the fact that the smallest sense of relief was washing over her.
It was only a few hours ago that George was stricken with uncertainty and worry at the thought of his father's possible terminal fate, though now he was celebrating the fact that he was on the road to recovery with the rest of his family. Next to him, Fred and Sirius were partaking in a few drinks together, several empty shot glasses of Firewhiskey littering the table before them, highly displeasing their scowling mother from across the room.
"Fred, Fred, Fred, listen," Fred said, waving at George urgently. "Ah—wait a minute... I'm Fred!" He roared with mirth, rocking back and forth in his chair.
Sirius snorted. He looked slightly woozy himself, though was much more contained than his drinking partner was. "Can't hold your liquor, can you, mate?"
"You—" Fred continued, ignoring Sirius and pointing at George as though he was intent on fighting him. "Did I ever tell ya...? Georgie... you are one ugly bastard,"
"All right, that's enough," Mum came bustling over as Ginny and Ron burst into laughter, snatching away the half-emptied bottle of Firewhiskey. "Fred, it's time to go to bed,"
"No!" he yelled, sinking lower into his seat and crossing his arms childishly. "Mum—Mum no, don't make me,"
"You're drunk, Fred," she said sternly, trying to ease him out of his chair.
"I'M NOT—not—I swear," he slurred. "I'm not drunk, I can still take my clothes off..."
As he made to unbutton his shirt, Mum rolled her eyes. "George... would you?"
"Sure," he said. "Fred, come on,"
Just as he made to rise, the doorbell rang, and everyone flinched as Mrs Black's curtains flew open, her screams ringing throughout the house.
"MUDBLOODS! BLOOD TRAITORS! SCUM OF THE EARTH, REPRODUCING LIKE A PLAGUE IN THE HOUSE OF MY FOREFATHERS! DISGUSTING CREATURES OF UTMOST REPULSION—"
"Every time!" Mum cried in exasperation, hurrying off down the hall to answer the door and hush Mrs Black's screeching portrait.
"You'd think members of the Order would have learned to knock by now," Sirius said with his signature bark-like laugh.
"Speaking of the Order," said George, looking round the table curiously. "Where's Dung? He was here half an hour ago."
"And Tonks, too," Ginny interjected. "She missed dinner,"
"Tonks is escorting Hermione here tomorrow morning. It's late, so they're probably resting up." Lupin said. "And Mundungus has gone out to fetch someone just now,"
"Who?" George asked, bringing his Butterbeer to his lips.
"Nina."
George promptly choked and sputtered on his drink, causing Fred and Ron to snicker. "What?"
Lupin raised his eyebrows at him. "Mundungus is bringing Nina Brimstone from the Longbottom residence. That's probably them now."
George cursed under his breath. "Ah—well—bedtime, Fred, old boy!" he said quickly, abandoning his Butterbeer and hoisting his brother, who was still struggling to unbutton his shirt, around his shoulders. Maybe if he hurried, they could sneak upstairs and avoid an awkward confrontation; he didn't want to risk getting his inebriated brother splinched by side-by-side Apparation. And what was all that about Longbottom's house...?
He could hear faint voices in the hall; Mrs Black's curtains had finally been successfully shut. He clenched his teeth; he was just a few steps away from the staircase. If he could just slip past them unnoticed...
"NIIIINAAAAA!"
Mrs Black's curtains flew open once again as Fred stumbled down the hallway towards her and pulled her into a tight embrace. George groaned and made after him as his befuddled mother hurried towards the portrait yet again, shouting obscenities at her drunken son as she attempted shutting the curtains yet again.
"Ah—erm—Fred?" she guessed, pulling away and squinting at him. "How are you? Is your dad okay? Have... have you been drinking?"
"Nina, Nina," Fred said, patting her shoulders. "Slow down, I can't hear you. It's too dark in here."
"Come on, you idiot," George said, holding his shoulders and doing his best to avoid Nina's eye. "Let's get you into bed."
As he made to turn round, however, Nina took hold of his forearm, and he chanced a glance at her. Her eyes were large and filled with emotion, and his stomach squirmed uncomfortably inside of him at the sight of her. Even with Mrs Black's screams ringing in his ears, it was almost as though his brain wasn't processing them. The world seemed oddly silent and still.
"I'll help." she insisted, getting on the other side of Fred.
"No—don't worry about it—" George said, though to his dismay Fred's weight shifted almost completely onto Nina.
He grinned and slung an arm around her. "Carry me, Brimstone." he said dreamily, as Nina began lugging him towards the stairs.
"You could—at least—try to walk," she grunted. "Ah—my bags..."
As Mum successfully shut the curtains once again, he caught her menacing glower, coercing him to 'be a gentleman'. With the slightest huff, he slipped his wand out of his pocket and muttered, "Locomotor trunk. Locomotor cage."
In an instant, Nina's possessions had risen up into the air, and he floated them up the stairs behind the hobbling pairing begrudgingly until they reached the twins' room on the third floor.
"Just the bed's fine," he said as Nina pushed through the ajar door with Fred, and he tittered in happiness as he collapsed onto his bed, creating a blanket-angel with his arms and legs. Nina sat on the edge, catching her breath.
"Y'know," Fred babbled, his giggling ceasing as he stared at the ceiling somberly. "I... I can't do this, mate."
"S'matter?" George asked.
Fred sniffed, and it was to both George and Nina's great surprise that tears were trickling down his face. "There's people out there without what we have, mate. People without... without beds!" Fred sat up, looking disgusted with himself. "And I... I shan't sleep in one, either!" In one swift and ungraceful movement, Fred was on the floor, rolling around and looking extremely pleased with himself.
"Oh, Fred. Come back up here," Nina said, patting the bed. "There are spiders down there."
"SPIDERS?" Fred shouted, sitting bolt upright again. "Then I... I shall be their king. KING OF THE SPIDERS!"
"All right, all right," Nina mused, smiling to herself and plucking his blanket off of his bed. She covered him with it and handed him his pillow. "But a king should be well rested."
Fred giggled deviously and hid under the covers. "Yes... ruler of all arachnids..."
"I think it's best if we leave him," George murmured from the doorway, his wand still in the air and hovering her things.
Nina nodded in agreement, and together they left, gently closing the door behind them. They crept silently up the next flight of stairs and came to the girls' shared room. Holding the door open for him, Nina followed George into the room and watched as he set down her luggage in a messy pile at the end of her bed.
"... Thank you." she whispered.
"Cheers," He turned to leave. "Well... g'night."
"Ah—" she stammered, and he looked round at her. She was fumbling with the hem of her sweater as she usually did when she was nervous, along with shuffling her feet and looking anywhere but him. "I—" She swallowed.
George waited. She remained silent.
"Nothing." she said quietly.
He wasn't sure what to say. So he left, closing the door on his way out and trying to keep his mind as far away from her as possible before joining Fred for an early night.
The blizzard from the previous night had almost withered away completely when the morning came, leaving behind an untouched carpet of snow. While the storm had most definitely calmed, the ashen sky continued to shroud the hills and buildings with snow, a steady stream of it falling silently outside.
George, awoken by his early-rising instincts, had snuck his way downstairs in the early hours of the morning before anyone else had so much as begun to drift away from the dream world. He made for the kitchen almost immediately, brewing a fresh pot of coffee and nicking a piece of leftover fruitcake from the other night. He leaned against the counter contently and rested the back of his head on an overhead cabinet, munching on his small breakfast. What should he do until everyone else woke up? Dawn was his favourite time of day, yes, but they could certainly be quite lonesome.
Hearing a sudden creaking behind him and wondering if Kreacher was skulking around the corner, George turned round.
"O-oh," Nina looked at him in surprise. "Sorry. I didn't know anyone else was up."
"'s fine. Here," he slid the platter of fruitcake towards her, and she stepped forward to cut herself a piece.
"Thank you."
They ate together in silence, and George noticed the steadily growing feeling of awkwardness in the air surrounding them. He huffed, frustrated.
"It's still snowing," Nina said tentatively, her voice barely audible.
George said nothing as he poured some coffee into a mug for himself. "Want some?"
"No, thanks," she said, waving the pot away. "I don't like it very much. It's quite bitter."
"You get used to it," George said, adding two teaspoons of sugar and a dollop of milk. "Just like a lot of things."
She said nothing as he watched her slowly chew her fruitcake over the rim of his mug, the rising steam warming his nose as the drink slipped down his throat. "Why did you come here, anyway?"
She didn't look at him, instead staring at the floor tiles with great concentration. "How could I not after hearing what happened?"
"That still doesn't explain why you came here. I'm sure you could have just as easily heard the news from a member of the Order. Why not just stay with Longbottom overnight?" there was no bitterness in his voice; he was genuinely curious.
She seemed to be doing everything in her power to keep her eyes away from his. "I just..." She sighed. "I don't want any more drama, okay? I was just worried about you."
"Me?" He perked up.
"Well... all of you. As a family, I mean."
His spirits flitted away. "Ah."
Her eyebrows knitted together as she looked at his coffee mug. "Are you... still mad at me?"
"Not really," he said truthfully.
"Well, you're acting awfully cold to me!" she looked rather hurt.
"Keep your voice down." he advised calmly. "And how? I even offered you coffee."
Nina was looking extremely on edge, and it always amazed him how quickly she could go from timid to raging and back again. He wondered to himself if it was part of her disorder. Then, with a haughty grunt, she marched out of the kitchen and back up the staircase, thankfully not awakening Mrs Black as she went.
"Tsh," George rolled his eyes and brought the coffee mug back up to his mouth. "This Christmas ought to be interesting."
It was to his astonishment, however, when he heard her footsteps as she trooped downstairs about ten minutes later. Leaving his mug on the counter, George entered the foyer and found Nina clad in a large jacket and a pair of winter boots.
"Where are you going?" he asked, bewildered.
"Out." she replied, not looking at him and making for the door.
"Are you mad?" he chided, catching up with her. "The sun's not even up yet! What if you get kidnapped by some Muggles?"
"I'll hex them."
"No magic outside of school," he snidely imitated Hermione.
"I'm going out with or without your permission," she mumbled grumpily, tightening her scarf around her and reaching for the doorknob.
George groaned loudly. "Okay, okay. Give me five minutes, I'll go with you."
She crossed her arms stubbornly. "I don't—"
"If mum knows I let you leave the house, she'll never let me forget it," he said, stepping back from her and preparing to Apparate to his room so he could save some time. "Besides, it's not safe in London when it's this dark out."
Five minutes later he re-entered the room with his jacket, and he was pleased to see that she had indeed waited for him, shuffling her feet in what appeared to be embarrassment.
"All right," he said, opening the door and holding it for her as she stepped out. "I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to leave the house, so we'll make it back before anyone notices we're gone."
She didn't appear to have heard him. She breathed in amazement and trounced down the steps of the house, watching her surroundings with utmost happiness and joy. George grinned as he watched her stomp over to the sidewalk, her footprints trailing behind her. She was like such a little kid sometimes, honestly. As she stared off into space, undoubtedly taking in the scenic view of Grimmauld Place, George cupped a handful of snow and shaped it with his fingers. In one swift movement, he hurled the snowball at her turned back, and it crashed into the back of her head. She gave a small scream and stumbled slightly as he burst out into a fit of snickers, and when she swivelled around she, too, was grinning.
"You'll pay for that!" she shouted, kneeling down and collecting a handful of the soft, feathery flakes that blanketed all of London. As George made for cover, a blast of cold to his cheek caused him to trip, and across the yard Nina was unable to contain her giggles as she searched desperately for someplace to hide. Pushing himself up off the ground and grabbing a fistful of snow as he went, he slowly made for Nina, smirking slyly as he grew closer to her. She panicked and tried to quickly speed around him, but he snatched her up from behind and shoved the snow into her face, and another one of her squeals rang in the air. She struggled in his arms momentarily, both of them laughing, and it was to George's surprise when Nina shifted all of her weight onto him, causing him to lose his balance and tip backwards into the snow bank behind them.
They lay together, their legs entangled and roars of mirth escaping them. As the snow continued to fall on them, he noticed that he was still holding her, seemingly so small and fragile in his arms. Pulling her closer to him, he gazed sleepily at the contrast of snowflakes falling gently into her raven hair and dark eyelashes. Wasn't it around this time last year that he had skipped out on a dinner at the Yule Ball to spend his evening down in the dungeons with her with Filch? Hadn't they been just like this not too long ago, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the snow falling over the Black Lake?
Maybe... just maybe... he had loved her from the beginning, after all. From the moment that he placed a Combusting Confectionary in the palm of her trembling hand, their fate had begun to unravel.
Where they would go next was entirely up to them.