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Silk and Iron Part 3

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Alicia woke, not knowing how much time had passed. The couch was comfortable, and the air was fragrant and warm with the smell of coffee and baking bread. Reveling in the harmony surrounding her, so unlike the events of yesterday, she remained where she was, eyes closed.

"Oh, come on, Angelina wasn't thinking straight--"

"Evidently not." A snigger.

"Grow up!" It was George. "Angelina forced herself on Alicia, and now we've got to deal with this--"

"Right. Fred and George Weasley, counselors to distressed witches all over northern Europe, at your service." Fred laughed again.

"Fred..."

"All right! All right. But we can't play babysitter for too long. As in, by the end of the day, she should be somewhere else. We either send her back from whence she came..."

"Fred..."

"Or..." Fred was silent a moment. "We send her to the Burrow. Fresh country living and a ton of kids flocking around her will do a world of good," he paused again, "Or it'll send her to St. Mungo's."

"Fred, as much as your humor is ill placed, I like that idea. No, not Alicia in a straight jacket--Although that does present some rather pleasant possibilities... Stop laughing, Fred. I mean sending her to the Burrow. Let's owl Mum now."

Alicia peeped from her reclining position. The twins were sitting near the window, hurriedly composing a note to their mother. Every so often, Fred would correct little mistakes on the note, and George would huff.

After completing the note, they tied it to the leg of a tawny owl and released it into the chilled air. Completing that task, they turned their attentions to Alicia.

"Come on, Sleeping Beauty," George grinned, leaning over her. "The world is waiting."

Alicia pretended to awake. "'Lo George, Fred." She faked a yawn.

"Up, up!" Fred urged. "The bread's burning!"

***

That night, Alicia arrived at the Burrow by Floo Powder, a means of transportation that she had never gotten used to. The Burrow was similar to the twins' apartment, only more homely and less like a bachelor's pad. Pictures of red-haired people motioned to the fire, at Alicia.

Steps hurried into the living room, and Alicia found herself face to face with a redhaired woman, presumably the twins' mother.

"Hello, dear." The woman chirped. "I'm Molly Weasley, and you must be Alicia?"

After Alicia nodded, the woman grabbed her arm and led her into the kitchen, thick with the smell of dinner cooking. Three more redheads, one balding, were seated around the table, curiously inspecting a flashlight.

Alicia almost supressed a giggle as the balding man and two sons poked a button, turning the flashlight on, and jumped with surprise. The redheads looked up.

"This is Alicia Spinnet, and she's coming to stay with us for a little while... why don't you introduce yourself." Molly waved the frying pan in a vaguely threatening way.

"Arthur Weasley." The balding man stuck out his hand and she shook it.

"I'm Bill Weasley."

"Charley Weasley, nice to meet you." He tilted his head to one side, thinking. "I remember you from school. First year? Took twelve minutes to figure out which house you'd be sorted? By the time the hat'd decided, you'd fallen--"

"Yes." Alicia said, swiftly cutting off his narrative. She didn't care to remember her first night at Hogwarts, falling asleep during the sorting, WHILE getting sorted, no less, was not something she wanted everyone to know about.

One by one, the other Weasleys trooped in from their various activities, all except for Ginny, who was still at Hogwarts. Percy, who hadn't moved out of the Burrow yet, Ron, looking her over with an expression of immense curiousity, and Harry, who evidently was residing with the Weasleys for now. She greeted all of them and the dinner commenced.

***

Two hours later, long after dinner and a speech on the density of broom handles (courtesy of Percy), Alicia was led up to bed by a smiling, if rather dazed Molly Weasley. (Ron hadn't been the only one to sleep through the lecture.)

"You'll be in Fred and George's room for now, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, swinging the door (covered in "Stay out!" and "Keep away!" signs) open.

The room was everything a room inhabited by George and Fred should be- cluttered, dangerous, filled to the roof with experiments, papers, other things Alicia didn't want to dwell on.

"I've tried cleaning it, but the boys have charmed it so nothing leaves the room," Molly Weasley sighed and scooted around a pile of tubes containing various amber liquids. "I would've placed you in Ginny's room, but it's even worse, and it doesn't have any charms on it."

Alicia smiled. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

She waited until the woman closed the door, still sighing over the disaster area masquerading as a room, then began searching the room. The twins weren't here to stop her and she'd suffered her share of Weasley Robe Raid, so it was her turn.

Thirty minutes later, after skimming through a pile of maps of the Hogwarts' sewer system (which was, for the most part, inaccurate-Hogwarts was a constantly changing building, after all), she found what she'd been looking for.

It was a folder, covered in a months of dust. Once it had been a brilliant blue, but now, the folder was reduced the grimy gray of a mold encrusted boulder. "Private Weasley Files" it read. And, of course, she opened it.

Immediately, two things happened. What felt like a tiny jolt of lightning hit Alicia, and an alarm went off in the Weasley twins' apartment.

George switched the alarm off with the flick of a finger, and turned to Fred. "Brother dear," he called, grinning evilly, "the maiden has begun her thorough inspection of our most clandestine files."

Alicia, having thrown herself to the other side of the room when the mini storm occurred, now cautiously returned to the papers. As nothing else threatened to attack her, she bent over the file and began to read:

Possible Couples of Hogwarts School, Fred and George Weasley, Seventh Years, Gryffindor

Alicia glanced at the title again. She knew the twins had forged a name for getting into other people's business, but matchmaking? She grimaced and continued.

Hermione Granger (6th), Ron Weasley (6th): A continual friendship which might blossom into more, if the two gits wouldn't be so thick.

Alicia sighed. In even writing, the twins left nothing sacred. This was proved as she shuffled through possible courtships-everything from Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy (she actually laughed until her eyes started watering) to Colin Creevey and Albus Dumbledore.

When she came to it, her eyes narrowed. It was at the last page, penciled in and fading from age. Three little words that made her heart stop and teeth grit. For written in the careless scrawl of a Weasley twin were the three words Alicia had hoped for, pleaded and ached and any other word that entailed desperate thoughts, mental anguish and a sense of terrible loss, that it would never be.

Under all the other couples, ranging from probable to laughable to impossible where three words, another couple, that had driven Alicia to an unsurmountable level of distractoin in her seventh year.

Alicia and Katie.



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