A/N: This is an odd chapter because I raise two issues but only resolve one. Both of the issues are very important to me. There are almost no hints to the ending in this. Can you believe it? Oh, this is a really sappy chapter, and I'm sorry about that, haha. I didn't mean for it to be. We'll get back on track next chapter.

It (was) the Twins' Birthday! =D April Fools' Day!! YAY FRED AND GEORGE! Love me some twins.

Part of the reason why I was so late in doing this is because I've been planning a one or three -shot that would accompany this story. But that's all I'm saying.

Been holding on to this for a while, too. I have no clue why.

The Scribe's Resurrection

Part Five: Chapter Thirty-Six

After Christmas Lunch on Christmas Day, 1995

"Why is there no present from you?" Sirius asked sadly. He turned to his wife with wide, puppy eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm not ready to give it to you yet."

"Whaaaat? You've had all year since last Christmas!"

"You're such a whiny bloke." Sirius huffed and cut his eyes in mock annoyance.

"Thank you, Tonks! This is beautiful!" Alrescha poked her head into the kitchen holding a rather large peacock feather fan. But Tonks wasn't there. "Wai- I thought she was down here? She said she'd come with us to the Hospital."

"She's coming later," Sirius said off-handedly. "She's got something to do. Say, Rescha, do you know what your mother's present is?"

"Yup." Alrescha directed her attention toward her mother while Sirius huffed once more. "Say, Mum, can we visit the Longbottoms today too? I have a present for Neville. I promised I'd give it to him today, and I want to do it in person."

"Sure. What is it?"

"He saw some pictures I had in my scrapbook that he hadn't seen of his parents, so I collected them all and put it in an album for him." Alrescha made a small sniffling noise. "I think he'd make more use of them than me or you."

---

Alrescha stroked the new locket George gave her while she sang. She loved it very much already- it was blue with a reddish ornate, floral design. She had a feeling that there were protective spells on it or something; she just felt safer with it on.

The songstress was singing a song about Selena, a song that would make only half-sense to anyone other than Selena or Alrescha. But like always, she said who it was for and belted out every word.

"Um, this is for your future, Mum. And this might be the last time I'd get to perform for you all in this house together like this because after my St. Mungo's concert, I'm getting my operation, and who knows what'll happen after that." She smiled sadly, but went on. "Okay. Let's go." Alrescha put the record on and began to croon.

After the small performance, Selena stood up next to Alrescha, holding onto her walking stick.

"Hello. I just wanted to say a few words." Selena looked around at everyone hesitantly, then her eyes rested on Sirius. "I'm... Having a baby girl." Sirius gawked.

"Oh my God!" With his chair falling to the floor because of his fervor, Sirius rushed to Selena, wrapped his arms around her, and picked her up all in one fluid motion.

"Congratulations!"

"Aw, a baby!"

"Selena!" Everyone gathered together, taking turns hugging Selena and Sirius. Alrescha stepped back, hands clasped under her chin. The look on Sirius' face had been utterly beautiful. She watched them both, her aunt and uncle, so happy. This was how they were supposed to be. All the age disappeared from their faces, and they were blushing with happiness. And then Alrescha wondered if her own birth parents had been like that, giggling and happy and excited. Probably. Her father named her, so he must have wanted her. She wondered if her mother had been scared to have a baby in the First Wizarding War, even though her fiancé was a Death Eater. And she wondered if the promise of a family was the reason why her father had gone off and done whatever he did. She wondered about that, what he'd done. Alrescha would have to ask someone who knew. Kreacher probably knew-

Warm arms embraced Alrescha from behind. She smiled widely as George kissed her hair.

This was probably the happiest moment in her life to date, other than being accepted for her operation. No, this was better.

Saturday, January 13, 1996

Noon

Alrescha had been singing all morning, and no one was complaining. The day of her surgery had finally arrived, and she was kind of uneasy about it.

"Got all your stuff packed?" Tonks asked.

"Yes, my dear cousin with vermillion hair- I'm happy you're coming, I'm glad you care." Alrescha had decided to answer people in rhyming song.

"We'll take your trunk to Hogwarts for you," said Fred.

"Thank you dear Fred, please pass the bread!" Fred snickered.

"I dare you to sing this way during classes."

"I'll take your dare, do it one day- I swear!" Alrescha saw Kreacher hobbling into the kitchen. "Kreacher, be good! Is that understood?"

"Yes, Miss. Kreacher is here to wish you good luck in the hospital." He looked at her fondly. He'd confided in her parts of the story of Regulus, which almost brought Alrescha to tears. And now she knew her father meant well, that he didn't want to leave his dear Darcy by herself with the baby; he'd only wanted to keep them safe from Voldemort's sinister quest for immortality and strength. It comforted her. And there was nothing more Grimmauld Place could offer her, she knew. It was the greatest story inside these walls.

"Thanks, how nice! You want a slice?" She referred to the bread she was eating.

"Oh, no, Miss Alrescha." He bowed deeply and trod away.

"Such a loyal house elf, head can't go on a shelf!"

"That's what I'm saying," Hermione stressed.

"Time to go," announced Selena. Alrescha's eyes widened.

"Really?" She dropped the song act, holding George's hand tighter. She really wanted him to come with her to St. Mungo's, but she knew he couldn't. Luckily, he'd be able to spend time with her the next day when she recuperated in the hospital wing.

The Next Day

Dinnertime

Alrescha had not spoken since before the surgery. And the last words she had said were 'I love you' to her mother. Now, in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, her throat was hot, scratchy, sore, and burning. She was weak, sick to her stomach, and highly uncomfortable.

"Don't rub it, dear," Madam Pomfrey said. Alrescha gave her a rather pathetic look. "Aw, drink some pumpkin juice." She turned up her nose at the mug on the nightstand. Everything felt like razors going down her throat when she swallowed. And she could not speak- she tried every hour, and it did not work.

"I can't help you if you don't drink anything, you know. Take the pumpkin juice. If you take a couple sips and it feels okay in your stomach, then I'll whip up a cooling solution." Alrescha's eyes widened at this- she took the pumpkin juice and took a tentative sip. It tasted lovely, more sugary than she remembered, though. She didn't even like pumpkin juice. It slid down her throat with minor burning, so she took a gulp and forced it down. She was sent into a fit of coughs.

"Alright, we won't make you drink anything just yet then." Madam Pomfrey patted her head. "Just cold compresses, then- hello, Mr. Weasley." Alrescha turned her head around and saw George walking towards her. The first thing she saw when she woke up in the hospital bed at St. Mungo's was a bouquet of garishly bright sunflowers and a card that said 'From George.' Alrescha weakly reached out her arm for him. He hugged her gently.

"Hi." George pulled away. "You can't talk, can you?" She shook her head. "How is she, Madam Pomfrey?"

"Well, she's in a lot of pain and can't keep anything down, not even water. I can't give her anything more than a compress, but she's doing well, the Healers say. They don't know what's going to happen though." George nodded and turned back to Alrescha, smiling a bit. Madam Pomfrey felt like she was intruding. "Er, Mr. Weasley, take this compress and press it to her throat every few minutes, rewetting it in the icing solution." George nodded, taking the cloth. "And don't make her laugh, Mr. Weasley. She might cough up a lung." Alrescha grinned as George gave the nurse a very innocent look. With that, Madam Pomfrey pulled the curtain.

"Your trunk's up in your room," George said, putting the compress to her throat. The burning evaporated, leaving a very raw feeling. But she felt loads better.

"I'm glad you're here," she breathed. She closed her mouth, swallowing and coughing in pain.

"Shhh." George frowned, pulling up her blankets around her. "You look so sick." Alrescha took her wand from the nightstand and began spelling out words to make sentences. "Of course Dumbledore would visit you- wait, Umbridge visited too, brought pumpkin juice? Ugh." Alrescha nodded, screwing up her face. "You don't like pumpkin juice." He leaned to soak the cloth and set it on her vocal cords again.

Geroge leaned down, putting his lips by the side of Alrescha's throat, kissing her skin. To answer his affection, she cupped his cheek with her hand. Then a thought crossed her mind. She pointed to the sunflowers, then gestured towards her hart, pressing her hand to her chest. She smiled warmly.

"I'm glad you like them," said George. "I didn't know what to get you, and roses seemed overdone." She nodded, opening her arms. George understood that to mean she wanted to be held, not just hugged. So she made room for him on the hospital bed, and the redhead happily joined her, allowing Alrescha to nestle her head in the crook of his neck. With every passing moment, the brunette grew hazy with sleep as George fiddled with her hair. She heard several people's feet tup into the infirmary.

"Is she alright?" Angie. Alrescha felt George shift.

"Sort of. She's in a lot of pain and can't speak."

"She'll be able to soon, won't she?" Harry, of course.

"Of course, mate. Alrescha's got to pull through," said Fred.

"I hope so." Alrescha wanted to raise her head and grin at them, to tell them she'd be okay. But George's voice was vibrating through her, and in a drowsed state it felt like a lullaby. She felt someone fiddling through her hair- probably Katie, maybe Angelina- and then Alrescha suddenly felt intense pain, throughout her entire body, like she had gashes everywhere and someone dipped her in a vat of lemon sorbet- stinging cold. And then her world went black.

Alrescha began seizing in George's arms, startling Katie into letting out a scream; George began to shake her shoulders.

"Rey? Oh, God, Alrescha?" Harry dashed off to get Madam Pomfrey, but she had already heard Katie's cry and came in mere seconds. "Alrescha? Alrescha!" Madam Pomfrey removed George from the bed; Fred took his twin's shoulder.

"Miss Bell, get the Headmaster. Miss Johnson, get her mother- she's unconscious and seizing." Alrescha let out a soundless, painful scream, face torn to extreme pain, and she began to drag her fingernails across her throat. Katie and Angelina needed no further prodding- they sprinted out. Madam Pomfrey placed restraints on Alrescha's arms and legs, but her body still arched and twisted into the air. Geroge turned away from his girlfriend, feeling horrified and vaguely nauseated. Fred patted his back awkwardly, stony-faced.

"Wh-what's going on?" asked Harry. Hermione was on the verge of tears, and Ron had his arms at his sides, gawking at the person who had been sleeping so soundly before.

"Complications," Madam Pomfrey replied quietly. "Mr. Weasley, did she say anything, do anything?"

"No, she was telling me about her operation, wand-writing, then she wanted to sleep, so I stayed with her, and then they came in, I told them how she was because she was sleeping, and then she started…" Madam Pomfrey nodded when he trailed off.

Wednesday, January 17, 1996

Alrescha's Third Full Day Unconscious

Even though the restraints had been lifted, Alrescha's condition was still dire. Madam Pomfrey and the medic from St. Mungo's both agreed that the young woman's restlessly catatonic state was due to undernourishment and dehydration. Alrescha was being watched every second of every hour, usually by Selena or George with one of the medics close by. This particular day, George came in during his free period. He waved to Madam Pomfrey half-heartedly and sat in the armchair next to Alrescha's bed. He reached out tentatively and took her cold, clammy hand to his lips.

"Hey, owl," he murmured. She was shaking, still, and muttering nonsensical phrases so quietly that the only indication that she spoke at all was the rapid movement of her lips. Madam Pomfrey came over to the bed, sighing.

"With all this confusion with the Healers, I haven't had had the time to clean up her area," she said, picking up Alrescha's mug. Something clicked inside George's head.

"Madam Pomfrey," he began, "what did Alrescha drink out of that cup?"

"Um, pumpkin juice, I think. She only took a gulp- poor dear couldn't keep it down." George reached out for the mug and studied the contents. Even though the juice had been there for well over forty-eight hours, it was like it had just been poured. He smelled it. Wormwood. George put the mug back down on the table.

"It's poison," he said. "She's been poisoned." Madam Pomfrey stared at him disbelievingly. George left the infirmary at a flat out run to get Professor Snape in the dungeons, his heels clacking on the stone floors in a rhythmic pace. He pushed the door to Snape's classroom wide open, disregarding the fifth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins.

"Mr. Weasley, if I want a disturbance, I will ask for one. Ten poi-"

"POISON!" George exclaimed, gasping for breath. "It's not the operation, Professor! Alrescha's been poisoned!" Snape's eyes doubled in size, and the room burst into a frenzy of whispers. "I can smell the wormwood."

"How do you-"

"Snape! My girlfriend is dying! What do you need? Let's go!" Severus Snape hesitated, and then spoke to his students.

"Class is dismissed…" Snape followed George back to the infirmary wing.

"I don't understand why we couldn't see it before!" cried Madam Pomfrey. "The operation masked it so well!" George handed the potions master Alrescha's mug; Snape sniffed it.

"What bottle did this come out of?" He was handed a bottle labeled "Tom's Freshly Squished Pumpkin Juice," which he promptly popped open and smelled that too. At this moment, Selena and the Headmaster entered with Harry and his friends following closely behind. It just so happened that Selena and Dumbledore had been in the same place, having tea in the staff lounge.

"Poison?" Selena gasped. She seemed calm, but her voice betrayed her distress. "Which, Severus?" Her hand gripped her cane so tightly that her knuckles were white.

"Draught of Intensity mixed with a poorly made Living Death. I don't know which is worse, though- the fact that she drank it or that is was poorly brewed. Madam Pomfrey, get me a bezoar, your strongest cooling potions, augurey feathers, a tablespoon of salt, and belladonna." Snape went to work quickly, mixing up the materials in a cauldron. The potion began to smoke lime green and waft up in bubble shapes. George wanted to protest- Snape was mixing another poison to give her. Augurey feathers, salt, and belladonna were positively lethal when in the proper proportions.

"Hold her down." Snape produced a dropper robes and extracted a few bits from the potion while Madam Pomfrey created magicked restraints on the young woman. Snape opened Alrescha's mouth and carefully dripped two tiny droplets into her mouth. Almost immediately, her eyes flashed open, distant and crazed. Her muscles clenched in the opposite direction of how they were supposed to move, giving everyone the notion of a contortion gone horribly, painfully wrong. Harry had a fleeting memory of the time when all of the bones in his arm disappeared.

"The bezoar!" Snape swiped the stony object from the nurse's palm and practically shoved it down Alrescha's throat. The clenching ceased, and she eased back into a calm position, the blood rushing back into her cheeks. She turned over coughing and retched the bezoar back up and onto the floor with bile.

"Alrescha!"

"Rey!" The grey-eyed girl looked around breathlessly and opened her mouth to speak. Nothing came out.

"The cooling potion." Snape pushed the drink toward her, and she took it, gulping it down. It did not induce coughs. She tried to speak again.

"Wh-what happened?" She asked shakily.

"Oh thank God!"

"You're okay!" Selena tearfully hugged her adopted daughter.

"Ahem." Dumbledore bade everyone into silence. "I am glad you're okay- I knew you would be. But, where did this horrid bottle of juice come from?"

"Dolores Umbridge," Madam Pomfrey said. "I'm sorry, Albus, I didn't know! It looked alright, and she needed to drink something, and it was the first thing I could think of-"

"It's not your fault, Poppy. No one would consider pumpkin juice harmful."

"It was sweet," Alrescha piped up. "Too sweet to be pumpkin juice. I hate pumpkin juice, and this was sweet."

"The valerian," confirmed Snape. "The proportions of the wormwood and valerian to the rest of the potion were off- unluckily, the color of both of them is the same as pumpkin juice and the potion was masked. Even if the Draught of Living Death had been made properly, it is colorless, so I doubt you could have noticed it even in your right mind."

"Umbridge?" Selena looked around, as if she just processed the information. "Albus, the woman is a murderer."

"Murder?" A very familiar, sickly-sweet voice tutted. Umbridge strolled in, squat and pink. "Don't tell me the songstress has died."

"No, I'm alive and well," said Alrescha calmly. Madam Pomfrey gave Alrescha another cup of cooling potion.

"It seems as though Miss Black had a sip of some pumpkin juice that was tainted with poison," Albus Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

"Poison?" Umbridge put her hand to her heart in shock. "Who would want to poison-? She's just a child."

"I did not finish, Dolores. Severus, would you like to tell her why the poison did not take effect properly?"

"The potion was brewed badly and Miss Black only had a gulp of it, I'm told."

"Thank you, Severus. It also seems that that pumpkin juice-" he pointed to the bottle on the table by Snape- "was brought into this infirmary as a gift to Miss Black by you."

"Are you insinuating that I tried to hurt this student?"

"We're accusing you of attempted murder," Selena answered in a low growl. "You know that Alrescha's songs are well-received, very popular. And you know they're more truthful than the dragon dung you endorse and repeat in this school-"

"Professor Riviera, why would I want to kill Miss Black?"

"You know why," replied Alrescha. "I sang that Fudge was just a coward leading the wizarding populace down a path filled with lies and fear. And people listened to me!"

"I did not poison you. I believe all I am guilty of is giving a present to a sick student that just so happened to be tainted. It could have been passed to me by one of your radical fans." Selena opened her mouth to retort, but Alrescha put her hand on her mother's elbow.

"You can stick to that story, High Inquisitor. Because I forgive you for what you did to me. It's just like a coward rat to strike with dirty tricks when they know they're going to lose. I pity you- I really do. You're so deluded with power that you'll do anything to keep the status quo." Alrescha paused. "I had a dream while I was poisoned. A vision, really. A vision of what life would be like when people who are strong are in power. The future was uncertain, but at least it was bright, filled with truth." Her voice fell, and all eyes were on Dolores Umbridge. Alrescha shifted her gaze to George. He was quaking with anger, fists clenched at his sides, biting his lower lip. She slowly stretched to take his hand. Her fingers found his, and the warm touch told him not to speak. She didn't want anything to happen to him. George took a deep breath, and his anger toned down.

"Dolores, I think now would be a good time to inform the buzz of students in the corridors that Miss Black is now well," Dumbledore said softly.

"Hmph." She strode out on her stubby legs, brow furrowed. After she departed, the atmosphere in the room lightened, and everyone turned back to Alrescha.

"I'm so glad you're alright!" cried Hermione.

"Yeah, mate, you had us right scared for a bit there."

"And it's all thanks to Mr. Weasley, who had the good sense to recognize what was going on," said Dumbledore. "You taught him well, Severus." At that moment when George rubbed his free hand over his eyes, they all realized that he'd been crying.

"Dust. In my eye," he grumbled. Everyone smiled a bit, especially Alrescha. She shook his hand a bit and then took a deep breath, staring at him.

"If I had my way, I'd never get over you… And I don't wanna fall to pieces, I just want to sit and stare at you. I don't want to talk about it, 'cause I'm in love with you. I want to know who you are, want to know where to start- I want to know what this means. I want to know how you feel, want to know what is real I want to know everything, everything. 'Cause I'm in love with you." Her singing voice, loud and rich, resonated through the entire infirmary, enveloping everyone with a feeling of sheer warm, glowing gold. The operation had been a success. The pitch was perfect, the melody sublime. If it was possible, her voice was stronger than it had been before. And it was as if she wasn't even trying, like it was effortless and second-nature. When she ended, her audience clapped. But it didn't matter, because Alrescha was only looking at George, and George wouldn't take his eyes off of her.

Thursday, January 18, 1996

Very Early Morning

For a second, George Weasley forgot where he was. His twin wasn't sleeping beside him in the next bed over, which was strange. And then he remembered when the person next to him moved around. He wrapped his arm around Alrescha tighter, grinning into her hair.

"Morning," she said softly.

"I keep forgetting," he whispered.

"Hm?"

"What it feels like to wake up next to you." Alrescha closed her eyes back, feeling very happy. She'd made him stay the previous night because of the feeling she'd have in the morning, to be honest. She wondered for a fleeting moment how so much glee could exist at one time when so much chaos and fury was prevalent at the same second. She pushed existential thoughts from her brain, finding herself losing the warm glow feeling.

"Question." George cleared his throat. "If you had kids, what would you name them?"

"How are you thinking about kids right now?"

"Rescha."

"I don't know about boy names. But for a girl, I like the name Roxanne."

"Roxanne?"

"Yes. Everyone in the Black family has got names from stars and constellations, and I always wondered why they name themselves after things in the dark. Roxanne means dawn. And to me, it'd mean the birth of a new day. Well, I dunno, it sounds stupid now, voicing it aloud."

"No, it's not dumb," George reassured. "I like the name Roxanne. It's got an x in it."

"You would say that."

Ending Note: I had this... for two weeks. Holding on to it. I do not know why. I am so sorry.