Title: States of Mind
Author: AnneRG
Spoilers: All Books
Pairings: George/OC, Harry/Ginny, Sirius/OC, Remus/Tonks, Ron/Hermione, others.
Rating: M (mostly in future chapters)
Warning: Read the prequels 'Finding Our Way', 'Brave New World' and 'Brave New Hope', first
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. In dreams, however, it's all mine...
Summary: After losing his twin in the Battle of Hogwarts, a grieving George Weasley is a ghost of his former self. But as months pass and he keeps pushing everyone away, it's time for Izzy Black to try and patch things up between them and maybe help piecing him back together. Sequel to 'Brave New Hope'.
A/N: And so here is the long-promised sequel to the 'Brave New...' series. On the increased rating, I decided to classify this one as 'mature' due to the content I intend to add to future chapters. Now, you won't be showered with graphic sexuality and heavy profanity on a regular basis, but there may be more explicit (hopefully the tasteful kind) content at some point.
Enjoy!
21 December 1998
Snow fell wildly outside from the pale grey sky, covering the whole extension of the Hogwarts grounds with a thick blanket of white.
In normal circumstances, Isabelle Black might have appreciated the snow, for the sake of a picturesque white landscape, which might be especially enjoyable to see during the more than eight hour-long train ride from Scotland to London that she was supposed to take in exactly twenty-five minutes. The thing was, it wasn't even ten in the morning yet and she was already having a really crappy day.
For starters, she'd accidentally slept in and woken up only half an hour before, which was something that just didn't happen to her – she hadn't slept in since… well, she couldn't even remember the last time she'd done that. Everyone who'd ever shared a room with her knew she was usually a breeze to wake up in the morning, which was why Ginny had been more than happy to leave their dorm shortly after shaking her awake, confident her friend wasn't that kind of person who'd just roll the other way once the wake-up call was over.
And then, because she'd still needed to mail a letter, she had to miss breakfast in order to go to the Owlery. Of course, she'd counted on there being owls in the Owlery, which didn't seem to be the case at the moment…
"Oh, this is just brilliant," she sarcastically said under her breath. Sure, it made sense that, since nearly every student was going home for the holidays, student-owned owls would be scarce but, Merlin, what were the odds of there not being a single school owl in the damn Owlery?! And how was she supposed to send a letter without an owl? "Bloody Christmas cards," she cursed, judging them as the culprit.
Leaving her trunk down on the lower level, she climbed her way up the circular staircase of the tower, trying to find an owl hiding out somewhere. She reached the top fuming and deeming herself out of luck… until she finally spotted a little owl cooped up behind a big bowl of birdseed. And by 'little' she meant really, really small – even smaller than Ron's own owl, Pig, which was hard to achieve.
She eyed it sceptically for a moment before reaching for her letter. "Hey, little guy – do you reckon you can carry this all the way to London?" she asked the little owl, even though she was fairly sure it wouldn't be able to understand what she was saying.
The owl let out a little hoot and climbed onto the edge of the bowl of food, apparently eager to take the letter.
Izzy took that with a shrug. "Good enough," she gave in, handing the little owl a treat she'd been carrying around for that sole purpose before she attached the letter to its beak. Once the owl was gone, she made her way back down the staircase and grabbed her trunk, running through the snow headed towards the path leading to the gates with it on a tow.
She was about half-way there when she spotted a flame-haired shape running in her direction.
"Izzy, what the hell?!" Ginny yelled from a distance the moment she saw her too. "Where have you been? The train leaves in fifteen minutes!"
"I was sending an owl," she shouted back.
"You were sending an owl when the train leaves in fifteen minutes!?"
"Actually, it was leaving in over twenty minutes when I went to send it," Izzy replied. "I couldn't find a school owl – they were all gone flying Christmas Cards to people or something."
Ginny rolled her eyes just as her friend reached her and started walking alongside her. She grabbed a hold of the trunk as well and helped her friend pulling it behind them. "Merlin, Izzy, couldn't you have shrunk this?"
"I could but it just happens that I got distracted and packed my wand into the trunk," Izzy told her. "And don't try to do it yourself. Wands are not…"
"Wands are not affected by shrinking charms, so if I shrink the trunk, it will probably crush your wand to pieces," Ginny finished for her. "I know that – I'm not an idiot. And packing your wand in your luggage? Missing breakfast too? What's up with you this morning?"
"I slept in."
"You don't sleep in."
"Well, I did today," Izzy replied. "You know I was up late last night."
Ginny huffed. "Yeah, you were finishing the letter. Honestly, Izzy, it was a letter, not a report due today – what on Earth were you losing sleep over it for?"
"I wanted to send it this morning. I always send them…"
"On Saturday mornings. I know. But it won't kill him if you send it Saturday night instead, when you'd have had plenty of time to finish it during the train ride and an owl waiting for you at home. And, by the way, didn't it occur to you that sending an owl from London to London on a Saturday night would probably reach him at the same time as – or possibly earlier then – a letter sent from Scotland to London on a Saturday morning?" Ginny pointed out.
Izzy frowned. "Well, I was in too much of a hurry to think of that," she admitted as they walked. "I just didn't want him to be expecting the letter and it not arriving…"
"He doesn't deserve it that you care about that – he never answers!" Ginny told her.
Izzy sighed. It had taken her a lot of time to get to the point – the point when she even dared to try and get in touch with George.
She hadn't been within a hundred feet of him since Fred's funeral. Being grounded all summer had kept her mostly indoors, giving her plenty of time to think of things and eventually realize that there was no use in wallowing. If she'd broken George, she should at the very least do something to try and fix him – of course, for that to happen she'd need to at least manage to speak to him and apologize. However, by the time she'd been enough off the hook to be allowed to go to Diagon Alley with her parents and the Weasleys, George always seemed to be suspiciously missing from the shop even though everyone said that he was pretty much drowning himself in work over there. That and the fact that he never even came to the Burrow anymore convinced Izzy that he was probably avoiding his family.
So, once it had been time for Hogwarts and she still hadn't had a chance to apologize to him, writing had been her only chance. The first letter had been the single one she'd mentioned Fred's death on, as part of her apology for her words the day of the battle. The following ones – weekly ones – had been very different. She just wrote about little things, all sorts of stuff that went on at Hogwarts, rumours that went around, Ginny's antics as Quidditch captain, weird things that would happen… summing up, the kind of things he used to tell her about when the Carrows ruled the school and he'd been the one on the outside looking in – things that had always made her feel safe and hopeful.
The lack of answer from him had been hurtful at first but, at some point, she'd stopped taking it so hard – the letters just sort of became a journal to her and she found comfort in knowing that, even if he was still too pissed off at her to answer, there was a chance those words might be giving him a bit of normalcy big enough to make him feel somewhat better. She was trying to fix what she'd done and, as long as there were still miles between them, that was all she could do.
"I never ask him to," Izzy told her friend, waving at Hagrid thrugh the falling snowflakes, who seemed to be chatting with Flitwick, as they crossed the gates.
"You shouldn't have to! It's the polite thing to do. I'm not a politeness buff but I assure you that if someone had been writing me weekly for three months – writing bloody five-page letters, by the way – I wouldn't have the nerve not to answer even with a 'thank you'. He's being an arse."
"He's got a shop to manage," Izzy replied.
"Don't you give me that. He can manage five minutes to write a couple of words if he bothers to try," Ginny pointed out. "If it were Harry, I swear I'd have sent him a howler already. Or just stopped writing until he remembered owls flew both ways."
"Well, that might work for Harry, since he's your boyfriend and he doesn't want you angry at him, but that's not the case with George," Izzy sadly pointed out. For all she knew, he was the one still angry at her…
"It sure as hell didn't seem that way when you two were smooching literally behind my back during the battle," Ginny replied. She stopped walking for a moment and waited for Izzy to do the same. "What the hell happened between then and now?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Izzy said.
"You've been telling me that every time I asked for the past seven months and I'm kind of getting sick of pretending I'm okay with that. Because I'm not," Ginny assured her. "Look at you – you're miserable half the time. He's miserable and unfortunately not just half the time. And I'd like to know why. So what happened?"
"Fred died," Izzy said.
Ginny sighed, feeling the pang hearing that always caused in her hear. "I know he did. But that doesn't explain why you act as if you killed him yourself every time someone brings up how George is dealing. Or not dealing."
"Ginny, the train is leaving in eight minutes. We don't have time for this," Izzy told her.
"Fine. We'll walk and talk, then. But I want to hear it. Because I seriously cannot be held responsible if I end up hexing it out of you before the day ends," Ginny warned her.
Izzy sighed as they resumed talking. "It's bad," she warned. That had been the reason she'd never told her friend what had happened – she was ashamed of what she'd done. She'd used a newly-deceased Fred against George. It had been a horrible thing to do.
"It can't be that bad. You're not a mean person," Ginny assured her.
"I was that day. I threw it at his face, Ginny," she said.
"Threw what at his face?"
"Fred! His death. George was… frozen by it. He just wouldn't move and the Death Eaters were coming, so I got desperate and I threw Fred at his face: that he was gone and being frozen in place wouldn't bring him back and that he owed it to him to fight for himself," she said. "It worked, but he was so angry afterwards… and now he's taking it out on everyone. Because of me."
Ginny stopped again, letting go of the trunk's handle and eyeing her in disbelief for about ten seconds. "Are you mad? He's taking it out on everyone because he lost his twin brother and his best friend and his business partner and his partner in crime all rolled up into one, not because you made him face facts and get off his arse," her friend told her immediately. "You did what you had to do. You did nothing less than I would have done if I had to."
Izzy huffed in disbelief, resuming walking with the trunk behind her, mindful of the time. "No, you wouldn't. You were crushed as well, Ginny," she said as her best friend followed after her.
"Not as crushed as I would have been if I'd lost two brothers instead of one," the redhead stated as she resumed walking alongside her friend. "Look, if to save someone you have to kick it first, then kick them as hard as you have to. It's called tough love – it stings but you have to use it sometimes, so don't blame yourself for it."
She sighed. "Well, the fact that he hasn't been answering my letters at all might indicate he does."
"Good thing we're going back to the real world, then, because now you've got plenty of opportunity to go to him face to face and straighten it out: if he does blame you for it, he's an idiot; if he doesn't you're an idiot for thinking he did for so long."
Izzy sighed and chose not to respond to that. Soon, the Hogsmeade train station was in sight, where both the Hogwarts Express and a rather annoyed Minerva McGonagall could be spotted.
"I see you were able to find her, Miss Weasley," the headmistress said to Ginny as she watched the two girls pass by. "Cutting it close, aren't we, Miss Black?"
"Sorry, Professor," Izzy apologized. "It won't happen again."
"I surely hope not," McGonagall replied as the girls lifted the trunk and loaded it into the train ahead of them. "You might not be so lucky to arrive just in time next time around."
"I'm aware of that, Professor," Izzy assured her.
McGonagall nodded. "Good. Well, ladies, you'd better hurry inside. And do have an enjoyable Christmas."
"You too, Professor," Ginny said in return just before she and Izzy climbed into the train, only seconds before the railway guard closed the train's door behind them.
They'd barely taken a step down the aisle between the compartments and were already being accosted by a rather frazzled Hermione.
"Where have you been?! I was starting to think you wouldn't make it!" the Head Girl told them.
"Well, we did, so you can relax," Ginny quickly assured her brother's girlfriend. "Do you know which compartment Luna is in?"
Hermione nodded. "Yeah, it's at the end of the next carriage. I'll take you there," she said, gesturing for them to follow her. "So, what happened? Why were you so late?" she asked, looking back at Izzy as she walked.
"I slept in," Izzy said lamely.
The older girl sighed. "Well, no wonder. I woke up at midnight last night and you still weren't in bed."
"I was busy," Izzy protested. "Can we all just acknowledge that I am usually the first one up and leave my bedtime alone?"
"That's exactly why we should not leave your bedtime alone. You're sleeping too little – Muggle medical studies say…"
"Hermione, for Merlin's sake don't start quoting Muggle medical studies on us," Ginny begged her as Hermione opened the gangway connection's door for them to cross into the next carriage. "Besides, it's the Hogwarts Express! It's not like McGonagall would leave her stranded here. What's the worst thing that could happen? Seriously – tell us. You know school rules by heart."
"Well, for one she'd get detention. It's mandatory to take the Hogwarts Express home unless your parents or guardians say otherwise," Hermione explained, crossing the connection herself and closing the other door behind her. "Then, odds are she'd contact her parents and get them to appara…" she paused suddenly, clearing her throat as if to disguise the word. "Take her home. I meant take her home by any means of travel they prefer."
Izzy stopped, making a frustrated sound as she turned on her hell. "Oh, for the love of Merlin, Hermione. Apparate. My head is not going to explode if I hear that word or any other somehow related to apparition. Why does everyone act like it will?"
"People don't want to upset you. It's only been three weeks since… you know, the incident," Hermione said, hesitating again.
"You mean the one when I splinched myself so badly during apparition lessons that I had to spend five days in St. Mungo's?" Izzy supplied.
"Well, yes," her friend said. "It's bound to be a little traumatizing."
Izzy sighed. "How many times do I need to say this? I am not traumatized. I won't freak out over hearing the word 'apparition' mentioned around me. I fell on my face and knocked myself out before I even realized what had happened, so every time someone tells me what happened it's like you're telling me someone else's story. I have no problem with apparition itself – it just so happens that I'm so bad at it that I am the only person in decades to get kicked out of apparition classes for a reason other than misbehaving."
"Technically speaking, you weren't kicked out," Ginny pointed out. "Wilkie Twicross just thinks it's better for you if you take a little break before trying your hand at apparating again. I heard him telling McGonagall that he's convinced 'something is blocking your ability to concentrate on the task'. Now that I think of it, I can think of a thing or two that might be bothering you these days," she said, referring to her best friend's situation with her brother.
"Ginny is right. This is exactly why they usually start teaching apparition in sixth year even to students not of age yet – seventh years are just too stressed because of the NEWTs," Hermione said, completely missing the point Ginny was referring to. "Honestly, I'm barely able to focus on anything other than them right now – just thinking all your future can depend on one test…"
"Hermione, you've got an Order of Merlin First Class over the fact that you spent a year chasing down Horcruxes and are among the three people who contributed the most to save the Wizarding World," Ginny told her. "I'm pretty sure you could get any job you liked even if you flunked every single NEWT you took."
"Don't even joke about that!" Hermione said, completely outraged over Ginny's tempting of fate about something as important as the NEWTs.
"She's got a point," Izzy agreed. "Harry didn't take a single NEWT and he's already training to be an Auror. And Ron didn't come to finish his last year either and he also has a standing invitation to enter the academy."
Hermione couldn't help letting out a huff about that matter. As much effort as she'd placed on that battle , she'd lost in in the end, being the only one of the three choosing to go back to Hogwarts. So, defeated once more, she went for a quick escape. "Oh, is that the time?" she said, feigning surprise as she took a look at her watch. "I should go – I have a prefect meeting in ten minutes, so I should really go and get ready..." she excused herself. "Luna's in the second to last compartment. I'll see you both in London," she declared, already making her way back to the gangway connection so she could head to the prefects' carriage.
"Well, that was subtle," Ginny commented.
"You know she's sensitive about Harry and Ron having skipped on their last year," Izzy pointed out as she reached the compartment Hermione had indicated and slid the door open. "Hi, Luna," she greeted her friend when she spotted her reading the Quibbler.
"Oh, good. You made it," the blond girl said with a smile. "I was starting to think I'd have to spend the whole train journey alone."
Pitiful as Luna's words sounded, they made both Izzy and Ginny sigh, knowing they were probably true. She might be, for all intents and purposes, a hero, yet people still tended to avoid spending long stretches of time around Luna due to her... oddness. "I'm sure you'd have found someone to spend it with," Izzy told her despite it at the same time as she lifted her trunk onto one of the empty seats, opening it in search for her wand.
"It'll be a year tomorrow," Luna said, very casually.
The two girls looked at her in confusion. "A year since what?" Ginny asked.
"Since we took the train to go home last year," she said, apparently still reading the magazine.
Izzy and Ginny looked at each other, suddenly reminded of the meaning of it. It had been a year since Luna had been snatched and held hostage by Death Eaters. That was something they rarely ever mentioned – Luna didn't seem particularly haunted by the event and they liked to believe that wasn't just an act from her part. Truth was, she seemed so okay that they didn't have it in them to disturb her by mentioning it.
Izzy sighed. "It's not going to happen again, you know? The war is over now," she assured her friend as she remained elbow-deep in clothing and personal items, still no sign of the wand.
"And even if it wasn't, no way we'd let them set things up again so you'd be on your own," Ginny stated. "They'd have to go through the two of us to get to you. And, trust me, we'd give them a good run for their money, wouldn't we, Izzy?"
"Defenitely," she agreed.
Luna looked up from her magazine and smiled at the two girls. "That's nice," she said mildly, sounding – in a true Luna fashion – slightly surprised they'd do that for her.
Satisfied, Ginny cleared her throat. "Well, now that this is settled, any suggestions about what to do for the next eight or so hours?"
"Well," Izzy started. "You can start by helping me figure out where the hell my wand is," she suggested.
Later that day, as the train started to approach the outskirts of London, in the lively Wizarding district of Diagon Alley – more specifically in the storage area of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes – George Weasley busied himself with work, as he constantly did these days.
One might say he was being a bit of a stickler by checking the stock of every product for the third time that day but it was, in fact, more about having an excuse to avoid the crowd filling the shop upstairs than being a perfectionist. It wasn't that he'd suddenly gained a phobia of crowds or anything – he just was painfully aware that in the middle of a crowd he could easily be snuck up on by a family member or concerned friend who'd give him the same speech as usual, asking him how he was dealing, offering a listening ear, all the whole hoping to achieve some sort of breakout moment when he'd suddenly decide to move on from constantly grieving Fred.
Just thinking of that made George huff. Sometimes he deeply regretted not having packed up and moved somewhere far, far away the moment his twin was put to the ground. Where, he didn't care: Swaziland, Tibet, aome deserted island near the Falklands… As long as it was far enough and remote enough that no one would follow him there, it was fair game to him.
It wasn't much to ask, was it? That people just left him alone. He wanted to grieve – he didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to be coddled because of it. It wasn't like he'd ceased functioning at all: he still fed himself, he bathed, he shaved, he worked… He was still the owner of a very lucrative business – the shop might have, same as him, lost a bit of its soul along with Fred, but it still stood, successful as ever. Sure, he'd had some help on that front: Remus, Lee, Verity and, more recently, Ron did work at the shop too and, for one, most of the time they seemed to have gotten the message that he just wanted to be left alone and acted accordingly. Then again, he'd made it very clear to all of them the moment he'd reopened the shop.
He was brought back from his thoughts by the sound of his name being called. Ron, he identified the voice as he walked towards the adjoining corridor formed by the many storage shelves.
"Anything you need upstairs?" George asked as he saw his brother approaching.
Ron shook his head. "No, it's just… it's half past five," the younger boy announced.
George looked confused. "So?"
"I told you I needed to leave at half past five," Ron told him. "I'm supposed to meet Hermione at Platform 9 ¾ in half an hour."
"If you'd already told me that, why did you need to come down here now? You could have just gone," his older brother pointed out to him.
Ron shrugged. "I guess. But I was wondering… well, I was thinking you could come too. Ginny and Izzy are coming in the Hogwarts Express too, you know? You might like to see them," he suggested.
The unexpected mention of Izzy nearly made him flinch. He made himself ignore the feelings that threatened to come along, though. He told himself not think of her at all, which didn't seem to work all that much. "Can't. I've got to finish this," he stated.
Ron sighed. "You know, working all the time is not exactly healthy…"
George gave his brother a warning look. "Ron, do you recall the one rule I set when I said you could come and work here?" he asked.
His brother gulped. "'Nagging will get you sacked'," he quoted him.
"You're getting dangerously close to making that rule relevant," George warned him.
Ron responded with another gulp. "Okay… But there's something else I've got to ask and please don't sack me for it because it's just a question and Mum told me to ask it. She'll have my hide if I don't."
"What?" George asked in annoyance.
"She wants to know if you're staying for the night on Christmas Eve or if you're leaving and coming back in the morning. She needs to know if she should get your old room ready for you," he explained.
George tensed. "When did I say I was going to the Burrow for Christmas?" he asked.
Ron gaped at him. "You've got to be kidding me, George," he said in disbelief. "Where else would you spend Christmas?"
"Nowhere," he replied.
"Nowhere? It's Christmas, for Merlin's sake. You can't celebrate it on your own!"
"Then good thing I don't plan to celebrate it at all," he said, to his brother's shock.
"That's mad, George! That's completely bonkers! Christmas is when families are supposed to be together," Ron told him.
"Well, then I guess it's not just up to me that it won't happen this year because I won't be the only one gone," George spat back, referring to his late twin's absence as he walked away, set on resuming the task he'd be been taking care of before.
Ron went after him, though. "Look, you know…"
"Nagging, Ron," his older brother warned him. "Watch the nagging."
The younger redhead pressed his lips together in fury but decided not to press it. Clearly arguing wasn't going to work. He had to think of something else later. "Fine," he mumbled. "So, you're not going home for Christmas this year."
"No," George confirmed.
"That's what you want me to tell Mum?" Ron asked.
George shrugged. "Tell her whatever you want. In any case, I'm not going. She should probably be told in advance."
His brother frowned. "Well, if that's what you want… I just hope you know what this is going to do to her." And, with that, he was gone, closing the door with a bang a few seconds later when he was already out of sight.
Left alone in the room all over again, George just sighed, trying not to think of his brother's words. He couldn't go – that was a simple fact in his mind. He couldn't stand the idea of just being there and having everyone patting his shoulder and telling him everything was going to be okay when he knew it wasn't. Fred was gone and he was never coming back. And, no matter how hard he tried, he knew he was never going to stop missing him. He was never going to stop looking over his shoulder trying to find him and he was never going to tell a joke without expecting him to continue it. They were never going to be a team again… And knowing that killed him just a little. So, the last thing he wanted was to have people nagging him and patronizing him by telling him it was going to be okay. The last thing he wanted was to have Izzy Black being one of these people – because, of course, she was going to be there –, as if her weekly letters weren't enough nagging for him to ignore.
So, still frustrated with everyone else, mainly Ron at the moment, he went back to looking at the clipboard he was still holding and went back to his task. Work seemed the one thing keeping him sane at the moment.
The moment she stepped foot out of the Hogwarts Express, Izzy had about two seconds to reach down in order to avoid being tackled to the ground by a short, black haired hurricane running straight to her legs and take a hold of him instead.
Her little brother, always pleased to see anyone with a familiar face, especially those particularly keen about spoiling him, shouted her name out loud and let out a squeal as she lifted him up from the ground and spun him around a couple of times. "Hello there, little monster," she greeted the boy with a smile.
Alex giggled. "'m not a little monster," the little boy protested, despite the cheery tone in his voice.
"Really? So you've been teaching Mary to always call Lulu 'Gran'?"
Alex dutifully nodded.
"Does it drive her insane?"
The boy nodded again. "She says it makes her old. Will she get all shrivelled if I call her Gran lots of times?"
Izzy chuckled. "Give it a try and see for yourself," she dared her little brother just before hearing her father clearing his throat.
"So, what's the meaning of this?" he asked, trying to sound very appalled. "You land your eyes on the little bugger and all of a sudden the bloke both of you owe your existence to is chopped liver?"
She rolled her eyes. "I've just seen you yesterday, Dad."
"So? Honouring your elders should be a daily task," he replied.
"Well, my apologies, then – the parade must be running late. I think I'll have to ask for my money back," she replied sarcastically.
"Don't sass me, young lady. Keep in mind that I have already more than proven my worth in the grounding area," he reminded her before turning to Ginny, who was just leaving the train after his daughter. "So, ladies, how did the train ride treat you?"
Ginny shrugged. "It was fine. Long. Anyway, is Harry back yet? Do you know if he passed?" she asked, referring to his survival training test, which he'd been taking for the past five days. From what he'd told her before he'd gone, the blokes at the Auror office were supposed to have dumped him somewhere remote, where he was supposed to fend off on his own for five days without any magic. Few passed at the first try, but Harry's experience with being on the run was certainly a point in his favour.
Sirius shook his head. "No idea. He was still gone when I came here. It shouldn't be too long, though. Oh, and by the way, Mia invited you over for dinner if you want. That way you'll have plenty of time to catch up with the man himself."
Ginny looked hesitant. "I'd love to but Mum will probably want me to stick around for today," she said apologetically. "You know how she's been like lately…"
Sirius nodded in acknowledgement. "Oh, well, the invitation stands," he assured her.
"I'll try and talk her and Dad into letting me coming by after dinner for a little while," the redhead said, starting to look around the crowd. "Speaking of which, where is my Dad?"
"Around here somewhere. I saw him talking to Ron before," Sirius stated, searching for him as well. "Ah, there they are," he announced as he saw the two other redheads cutting through the crowd.
"Ginny girl!" Arthur called, smiling at his daughter as he approached her and wrapped her up in a big fatherly hug.
Ron followed his father silently, looking rather grave, something his sister didn't miss.
"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, pulling away from Arthur.
"Nothing," Ron unconvincingly replied.
"Liar," she accused him.
"It's nothing you need to worry about, Ginny," her father confidently assured her. "We'll tell you about it later. Now, I believe Ron has a girl he wants to see as well…"
"Oh, right," Ron mumbled, suddenly reminded of his girlfriend. "Where did Hermione go?"
Izzy cleared her throat. "'The Head Students' duties include searching the train for forgotten objects. They have to be the last person in and out of the train'," she quoted her friend. "Did that sound like I was channelling her? Because that's what I was aiming for."
"So, she's still inside?" Ron asked, receiving a nod in return. "I think I'm going in, then. Don't wait for me." And, with that, he disappeared into the train."
Soon after, Luna came by to say goodbye to them and the platform started to empty. After Arthur left with Ginny and Ron exited the train with Hermione, Sirius was left alone with Izzy and Alex. "So," he started, reaching out to hold his son's hand. "I was thinking we could walk home today. It's just twenty minutes on foot and it's not a half-bad day."
Izzy raised an eyebrow. "Is that some subtle attempt to spare my 'frail mind' from the trauma of just apparating? Because I can take it. How many times do I need to say this for people to believe?" she said.
"Who said anything about apparition? Can't a guy just be eager to show his daughter the Christmas lights without being accused of having ulterior motives?" he asked before nodding down at Alex. "Come on, the more tired we get this little bugger, the easier it will be to put him to sleep tonight."
His daughter let out a sigh. "Well, I suppose if it's about that…" she said before reaching for her newly-found wand and shrinking her trunk to a size small enough that it would fit into her pocket. "So, how did you manage to leave the house with just Alex? Didn't Mary want to come too?" she asked as they headed to the platform's disguised exit.
"She took a late nap today. In my defence, I tried to wake her but she just growled at me in her sleep," he told her.
"Wonder which side of the family she got that from…" Izzy mumbled.
"Hey, I resent that!" Sirius protested as he reached down to pick Alex up just as they arrived at the exit. He then took a peak through the wall-disguised passage and gestured for Izzy to follow once he was sure nobody was paying attention.
They barely had a chance to exchange words as they bumped their way through the many rush-hour commuters filling the busy station. It wasn't until they took a side exit from the station and found themselves in less crowded surroundings that Sirius allowed himself to put his son back on the floor and let him walk on his own, his hand firmly attached to his older sister's.
It was a sweet sensation, being able to walk outside again without deathly fear, Izzy couldn't help noticing – half a year before, stepping foot out the door was all but daring death itself to come and pay a visit. Sure, there were still Death Eaters at large, hiding away from the law, but it seemed that every week the Prophet announced yet another one had been caught – at that moment there were maybe a dozen still walking free but, judging by the lack of Death Eater attacks, those were far too busy hiding their arses to go around bothering people. At the end of it all, they were free – and just thinking of that was enough to lift her spirits.
"So, Dad," Izzy started. "Now that it's safe to be outside and that I'm of age and not grounded anymore, I hope you realize that I don't plan to stay cooped up at home all the time anymore," she pointed out to her father as they walked.
Her father raised one eyebrow at her. "You've been seventeen for barely a week and you're already you're pushing boundaries? I should have locked you up in a tower when I had a chance."
"As if I wouldn't have found a way to escape," she replied.
Sirius let out a long-suffering sigh. "Well, I'm not going to hold you hostage but keep in mind that as long as you live under my roof, you're supposed to obey certain rules, no matter how old you are. Such as only going out at decent hours and not venturing into dingy places like Knockturn Alley…"
"Oh, come on. I was told Knockturn Alley had the best place to buy the cursed watch I was planning to give you this Christmas."
Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Planning to collect your inheritance early, hum?"
"Well, I'd better hurry before you and Mum get me another sibling and chop up my inheritance even more than you already have," she replied as they entered a tunnel passing under St. Pancras station's train tracks.
He gaped at her for a moment. "Is it too late to give you up for adoption?"
"I'm pretty sure that's called disowning at this point."
Her father seemed to consider it for a moment. "That may not be such a bad idea." He looked down at his son. "Hey, mate, do you want your sister's share of the dough?"
"What's doh?" Alex asked.
"It's cookies before they're baked," Izzy informed him, bringing a huge smile to the little boy's face.
"That's not the kind of dough I'm referring to," Sirius pointed out.
And, just like that, the smile was gone. "Why not?" Alex asked, disappointed.
"Because this is the kind you can use to buy cookies that are already baked instead," Sirius offered.
"Why would he want to buy ready-baked cookies when Kreacher does it so much better?" Izzy asked, her little brother nodding in agreement as she spoke.
Sirius sighed. "There's no way I'm going to win this argument, is there? He's always going to agree with you, as long as you're the shiny new thing around."
"That's probably right," Izzy replied.
They went on bickering as they made their way home, only stopping for a few minutes at Alex's usual playground so he could take a few trips down the slide and have a couple of rounds on the swings.
They were just arriving at the streetlight-iluminated street of Grimmauld Place when they saw a familiar-looking auror exiting number 12.
"Oi, you with the pink hair," Sirius called, catching Nymphadora Tonks's attention just as Alex let go of Izzy's hand in order to run towards his makeshift aunt.
The metamorphagus greeted the boy with a hug and the usual 'Wotcher' as Izzy and Sirius approached. "You know, this colour is actually called 'mauve'," she pointed out to Sirius as she placed her husband's godson back on the floor.
Sirius snorted. "Do you keep a collection of colour swatches so you can choose exactly which colour of hair you'll wear for the day?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. Remus and I keep'em in a hat. We pull one at random every morning unless I'm feeling strongly about a colour in specific," she replied.
Sirius gave her a look – he wasn't sure if she was joking or actually telling the truth. He wouldn't put it past her. "So, can we safely assume that you being here means Harry's back?" he asked her.
"Well, someone had to make sure the Saviour of the Wizarding World made it home safely since he was so sleep deprived he could barely keep his eyes open," Tonks pointed out. "They're always brutal, those survival tests. Dump a bunch of kids in the middle of nowhere with no wand, no food and no shelter, throw in a few threat simulations and expect them to fend for themselves for a week… most fail, you know? I was lucky Dad took me camping Muggle-style often – he thought the Wizarding world's answer to camping was an insult to 'actual camping'. And, believe it or not, it gives you an edge on the whole outdoors part."
"But what about Harry? Did he pass?" Izzy asked.
"After spending a year on the run from Death Eaters? Do you even need to ask? Of course he did. With flying colours," Tonks informed her. "He's officially done with Auror Academy and after New Year's he's all mine."
"All yours? You mean you're his trainer now?" Sirius asked.
"Yep. There aren't that many people in the office who can train the great Harry Potter without being all starstruck – it's basically just me and Kingsley, actually, but since Kingsley is really busy lately with all the Death Eater trials, it falls onto me." She let out a pleased sigh. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to get a sucker to dump all my paperwork on? Best Christmas gift ever."
"Hey! Don't you dare make my godson your paperwork slave!"
"Don't you dare mess with the Auror office's circle of life," she replied. "I was Mad-Eye's paperwork slave, now Harry's my paperwork slave and one day he's going to have a paperwork slave of his own. It's nature at it's best," she said in a wondrous tone before checking her watch. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat but I've got to go and pick up Teddy from day-care before he starts thinking I've forgotten all about him." She reached down to place a kiss on top of Alex's head. "See you guys around," she said before walking towards the nearest alley, from where she presumably disapparated.
Still on the front porch with only Alex and Izzy, that was Sirius's cue to head to the house's door and open it for all of them to enter.
"Sirius, is that you?" they heard Mia calling the moment Sirius closed the door behind Izzy, who gently pushed Alex in front of her.
"Yes, love," he shouted back, just as the sound of steps down the stairs reached their ears. "Were you expecting someone else?"
They heard her chuckling, her voice sounding closer than before. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she said. "You've just missed Tonks. She came by drop Harry off."
"I know. We were just talking to her outside," Sirius informed her as Izzy started climbing up the stairs.
On her way up, Izzy watched as her mother appeared at the top of the stairwell, holding Mary on her hip. "Hi, honey. Did you have a nice journey?"
Izzy shrugged when she reached the top of the stairs too. "It was the same as always," she said, reaching to place a kiss on her little sister's chubby cheek. Cheerful as always, the nearly two-year-old giggled and said her name, though it sounded more like 'itch' than 'Izzy'. "No one tried to kidnap me this time," she added to her mother, who sighed.
"Well, that's always positive," Mia offered.
"Is he upstairs?" she asked, referring to Harry.
Her mother nodded. "In his room. Don't be surprised if he's already fallen asleep, though. He looked exhausted. Speaking of which, is Ginny coming?"
"Not until after dinner," Sirius replied for Izzy as he guided his son up the stairs by the hand and, upon reaching the top, let go of the little boy and reached over to place a very casual and very quick kiss on his wife's lips.
It might not be a particularly traumatizing kiss to witness, but the act alone still drove Izzy to leave the premises as soon as she saw it coming. On her way up to her bedroom, she heard a vague mention of 'bath time' downstairs, which sent Alex running on the opposite direction, shouting 'no', as their father chased after him.
She entered her room, and removed her shrunken trunk from her pocket, returning it to its usual size. Then, she exited the room again, vowing to unpack her luggage later as she headed into Harry's. She found the door half-open, only taking a little push for it to open up, revealing the pitiful picture of her brother fully-dressed and with shoes still on lying face-down across the bed.
"You alive in there?" she asked.
His response was some kind of jumble of words muffled by the covers.
"Come again?"
He turned his face to the side just enough so his voice would come freely. "I said I didn't think so," he clarified.
"Nice," she replied walking further into the room. "I get to keep your room, then, right? Maybe I could take down the wall between our rooms – make myself a massive one."
He propelled himself on his elbows just enough so he could glare at her, his glasses comically crooked on his face. "Nice to see you find a silver-lining in my potential death."
"Well, you make people think of it so often that they need to make their own plans," Izzy replied. "Anyway, I heard you passed the survival test. Does that give you an official title or are you just going to be known as 'Tonks's paperwork bitch' from now on?"
He let out a groan. "The official title is 'cadet auror'. I'd prefer you stuck to it rather than your more colourful one," he informed her.
Izzy chuckled, but nodded. "So, how did it go, really? Everyone made the test sound pretty vicious," she said.
He made a non-committing sound. "I can see how people would think it is, but there are worse things in the world," he said. "Still, sleeping on top of a tree is not something I would recommend."
"On top of a tree? What did you sleep on a tree for?"
"I was being chased by a bear. I had to hide somewhere – it's not like I could wrestle it without a wand," he replied. "Did I mention they don't let you keep those on you?"
"A bear?" Izzy asked, disbelieving. "That's impossible. Bears are extinct in Britain. Don't tell me they imported a bear just to set it on you. Because that's just too good."
"Of course they didn't. It wasn't really a bear – Tonks told me it was an illusion they'd cast just to get our blood pumping," he said. "It worked."
"You'd have to be dead not to," she pointed out as she moved closer to the bed in order to take a seat on it. On she did, she nearly tripped on a bag that tipped sideways and spilled out a few dozen letters. "What's this?" she asked.
"What's what?" he replied, unable to see what she was referring to from his position.
"All the letters."
"Oh, that's fan mail," he said. "The auror office intercepts it for safety reasons. They hand it to me in bulk every once in a while. You can read it if you want. Be careful, though – they screen it for poison and stuff but they don't catch everything. Just last month, I had to rush Ron to St. Mungo's with pustules all over his face because of one of those. It wasn't pretty," Harry told her.
Izzy made a face at the visual and dug through the pile, avoiding the most psychotic-looking ones, branded with lipstick and sprayed with perfume. "Let's see…" she said, opening one. "A little girl in Cardiff says you're her hero. That's sweet – you should write this one back," she commented before moving on to the next. "There's some nutter in Manchester who thinks the war was a publicity stunt for the ministry and…" she paused, her eyes widening as she read insult after insult. "Bloody hell, just don't read this one. The bloke is a lunatic. I'll set it aside."
"Believe me, whatever it is, I've read worse," Harry assured her.
"Well, anyway," she said, still putting the letter away and moving on to the next. "Oh, this one is from WWN," she announced, referring to the main radio station in the Wizarding World.
"Put it away, then. They probably want an interview," Harry mumbled, uninterested.
"No, they don't," she said, having already opened and started reading. "They're asking if you're available to make an appearance on Lover's Alley as yourself."
"What the bloody hell is Lover's Alley?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.
"You know what it is," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's that radio soap in WWN that's been on the air since the fifties. They want you for a ten-broadcast arc… and apparently they say it might involve a certain degree of nudity," she read.
Harry sat up straight. "Nudity? How can a wireless broadcast with no image whatsoever involve nudity?"
"I dunno. Pretend nudity, I guess. But you know how you can know for sure? Write them back saying 'yes'," she dared him.
"Not if it was the last job on Earth," he said immediately.
"Come on! I'll do your chores for the rest of your life. Seriously, even after you move out or marry Ginny, I will go to your home and do them for you – that's how much I want you to do this," she told him.
"Yeah, because you'd have a lifetime's worth of mocking material to use against me. Anyway, isn't that the wireless soap Sirius religious listens to because 'it's so bad it's actually good'?" Harry asked.
"Yes. Just imagine how proud it would make him," she argued.
"I'd rather drink a cauldron full of acidic potion," he assured her.
"Killjoy," she accused him with a huff, reaching for yet another letter. "Oh, this one is good too. Apparently, a woman in the eastern midlands is convinced you're the father of her unborn child."
"Should I worry?" they heard a familiar, unannounced voiced saying from the doorway.
They turned to it, only to see an unimpressed-looking Ginny standing there. Despite the look on her face, Harry grinned, glad to see her.
"I thought you weren't coming until after dinner," Izzy said.
"Change of plans," her friend declared before approaching her boyfriend and giving him a pointed look as she stood opposite him. "Well? Should I?"
"Definitely," he told her. "And this is probably not the only love child I have lying around. I just can't help myself."
Ginny slapped his shoulder, recognizing the mocking tone in his voice. "Idiot. I wonder why I missed you at all," she said, reaching over to place a kiss on his cheek as she sat by his side on the bed.
"So, what happened? I thought you wanted to be with your Mum tonight," Izzy asked.
The redhead sighed. "I did. But then Dad told me that Ron told him that George told him he's not coming home for Christmas this year," she declared.
"What? Why not?" Harry asked immediately as Izzy just stared, positively shocked. Christmas was sacred for the Weasleys – nothing short of being overseas, ill or in hiding ever stopped them from celebrating it together.
"Because he's a git, that's why," Ginny bitterly declared. "Anyway, Dad has to tell Mum tonight because she'd never forgive us if she found out another way and it's not hard to guess that she's going to take it badly. He told me to come here so I won't have to see just how badly."
For about thirty seconds, there was only silence. Then, Harry spoke. "Blimey. George is really taking it hard."
"He's taking it stupidly," Ginny corrected him. "He seems to forget that he wasn't the only one who lost a brother when Fred died. And that's on him, not anyone else," she added, looking pointedly at Izzy, predicting that a wave of guilt was just about to wash over her friend.
Before Izzy could respond, Mia suddenly walked into the room, a pile of towels on her arms. Both her hair and clothes seemed to be half-soaked, showing proof of her difficult task in bathing Alex and Mary. "Izzy, could you..." She stopped herself upon spotting the redhead. "Ginny, I didn't know you were here."
"Kreacher let me in," she replied. "Sorry I just dropped in on you. Sirius did say the invitation would stay open…"
"Sure it would. Ginny, you know you're always welcome here," Mia assured her. "I was actually just coming here to ask Izzy if she could go downstairs and set the table while Kreacher finishes dinner. You wouldn't mind going along, would you?"
"Of course not," she said.
"Good. As for you, Harry," she added, looking at her godson. "Get yourself in the shower now."
"Why? I've already showered before I came here," he replied in annoyance.
"I'm sure you did but you look dead on your feet. Go soak under hot water for a few minutes – you seem like you need it," she told him. "Well, I'm off now. Time to get the little ones out of the tub."
"Is there even any water left in it?" Harry asked, looking at his godmother's soaked state as he got up from the bed with some difficulty.
Mia sighed. "You should see your godfather," she told him before walking out.
The moment her mother was gone, Izzy got up as well. "Well, I'm heading downstairs. Please feel free to use my absence to get all those months of snogging deprivation out of your systems," she urged the couple before walking towards the door and leaving the room.
She made her way down the stairs on her own, only stopping in the kitchen, where she found Kreacher perched at the stove, cooking what seemed to be a combination of hers and Harry's favourite dishes – the main course for her, dessert for Harry.
She greeted the house-elf, who seemed glad to see her, already past resenting her for having given him the slip the day of the battle.
She was just about to fetch the towel when Ginny unceremoniously entered the room and gave her a hand at spreading it over the table.
"So, I was thinking... we should use tomorrow to go to Diagon Alley," the redhead declared.
"What? So you can kick George's arse for not coming home for Christmas?" Izzy guessed.
Ginny sighed. "As much as it would please me to do that, Mum would never let me hear the end of it. I think I'll just stay out of the shop altogether – I don't trust myself to be able to keep my fists to myself if I lay eyes on him. You, on the other hand..."
"Ginny, no," Izzy said as she went to fetch the plates.
"Ginny yes," the redhead corrected her. "I told you it's time the two of you set things straight."
"He doesn't sound like he's in the right mindset to straighten anything out," she pointed out, making her way back to the table and handing Ginny half the plates so they could set them on the table.
"Well, I'm hoping it'll be different with you," Ginny told her. "You two used to have a thing of your own – judging by the amount of time you two spent writing back and forth to each other, I'd guess you told each other stuff you just wouldn't tell anyone else. I know he's not answering your owls, but maybe if you're standing right in front of him he won't be able to be such an idiot. Hopefully, if you'll be able to talk him into get his head out of his arse."
"So, in short, you want me to fix him for you," Izzy summed up.
Ginny shrugged. "If that's how you want to see it... Can you honestly tell me I'm asking you to do something you don't want to?" she asked.
The brunette sighed. "I need to go fetch the glasses," she declared, walking away from the table, towards the cupboard near the stove.
She opened the cupboard and reached for the glasses inside. When she was putting them down on the counter, she noticed the odd way Kreacher was eyeing her. It didn't take long for her to guess that he'd probably heard her conversation with Ginny. She huffed. "Don't you give me that look, Kreacher," she told the house-elf, narrowing her eyes at him.
"What look does Young Mistress mean?" Kreacher questioned.
"You know what look. The same look my dad gives me when my name and boys appear in the same sentence," she specified, causing the look to appear again on Kreacher's face. "There! There it is. Busted. Isn't one boy-hating father enough? Do I really need to people in my life just waiting to hate the next bloke I like?"
"Young mistress don't deserve a broken heart," the house-elf told her.
He might as well have pulled a rug from under her feet. It touched her – it really, really did to hear him say that. "Kreacher…" she started. "I don't have a broken heart. Not really."
"Young mistress sad all summer. And not because of punishment," he replied.
"Yes, but that… that's not really his fault." Mostly, it was. But it was her fault that it was his fault, so those two facts seemed to annul each other.
Kreacher didn't seem to buy it either. "If need be, Young Mistress only need to tell Kreacher – he'll teach culprit a lesson on treating Young Mistress the way she deserves."
Izzy stared at him for what had to be minutes. "Did you just offer to beat up a boy for me?" In all seriousness, Kreacher nodded. "That is… the nicest thing anyone has offered to do for me in a long time," she told him, even more touched than she'd been before. At that moment, she wanted that house-elf to stay around forever. Had she had the formula to elixir of immortality herself, she'd have brewed it right then and there despite her hatred for potions so that Kreacher would live for all eternity and never leave her side for as long as she lived. Still, she just couldn't let him go and beat up poor George, as much of an arse as he might be. "But don't do that. Ever. Seriously – if I ever order you to do something like that, just ignore me on grounds of temporary insanity."
Kreacher seemed a little disappointed at that, likely because he wouldn't be able to defend his Young mistress's honour anymore.
Izzy cleared her throat. "Okay, I'd better get these glasses to the table," she said before walking back to the table, where Ginny was just finishing folding napkins.
"What was that?" her friend asked asked.
"Nothing," she said at first, quickly rethinking and deciding it was a story worth telling. "Kreacher just misguidedly offered to beat up your brother for me."
"Did he?" she asked, receiving a nod in return. She smiled. "I knew there was a reason why I liked him."
A/N: And so here is the first chapter. No contact between George and Izzy yet, but they should end up in the same room next chapter. Feedback is welcome! Review!