Spiritus aduro
I usually put Author's notes, etc at the end of chapters, but somehow it didn't seem appropriate for this part. Firstly, I have to give huge amounts of thanks to Andy and Lou who spent hours (literally hours) helping me to rewrite this and make it more believable - without the two of you, this would never have made as much of an impact as it does now, and I'm truly grateful for all of your assistance. More thanks are due to Andy for being an invaluable beta reader, and also to Arabella for making any final important amendments. Reading their comments helps me to remember just why I am writing this story. Also, massive thanks should go to Lone Astronomer, who has been nagging me for this for quite some time (although she's been very patient about waiting for it). You're a great friend and an excellent co-webmistress! Finally, thanks to all of you, the readers out there. Your reviews make writing worthwhile, because they show that I'm not the only one who cares about the fate
of a redhead and his slightly mysterious best friend.
Okay, I do realise that this has been a particularly mushy and long A/N, but I felt it needed to be said. Having said that, all I have to say is enjoy the chapter, and apologise for the not-quite Valentine's Day theme. Oh, and Kait, if you can find the line that I said you'd like, then you deserve many brownie points. Hallie
Part X
Charlie stirred as the pale morning sunlight poured in through the window. He was vaguely conscious of someone staring at him. Cautiously, he opened his eyes to squint at the world. What he saw, in his half asleep state, was a large, black, hairy something.
"Bloody hell," he said through the furry taste of sleep.
"Morning to you too," Ria replied, turning around. Charlie marvelled at how much like a black bear she looked from behind when her sleep-tousled hair covered her back.
"Don't do that to me!" Charlie exclaimed, still trying to focus properly. Sunlight, early morning and Charlie did not mix well.
"Do what?!" Ria demanded.
"I thought you were a Grim or something!" Charlie admitted.
"Oh, Charlie, please, be your age!" Ria replied, grinning. "Firstly, Grims are entirely fictional. You know as well as I do that a large black dog is not an omen of death. My Grandfather kept one for a pet, for goodness' sake!"
"Well, Uncle Bilius saw one, and twenty-four hours later he died," Charlie informed her. He didn't think he'd ever understand her blasé attitude towards Divination. He didn't set much score by predictions himself, but omens were different.
"You are ridiculous," Ria told him, matter-of-factly. "It was an unfortunate mishap. You know as well as I do that your Uncle Bilius was in a broomstick crash. Disastrous though it may have been, you can hardly say that the poor dog was responsible for him getting all preposterous with his friends and insisting on racing. Dangerous sport, broomstick racing, but the big companies think they're good for publicity and... Well, anyway, Bilius Weasley did not see a Grim." Charlie wondered if he'd ever understand Ria. Here they were, preparing to meet her `real' mother and all she was worried about was his preconception with omens. He'd have been hysterical by now if it were him. Well... maybe not hysterical, but he'd certainly be a lot more tense than Ria seemed to be.
"All I said was that you looked like a Grim."
"Charmed, I'm sure," Ria replied, flicking a hand towel at him.
"You're very cute when you're asleep though," he added, suddenly realising that his previous comment could have been interpreted as insulting.
"Been watching me while I'm asleep, have you?"
"Well, there was nothing better to do," Charlie pointed out.
"I can think of several things," Ria said, wickedly. "But most of them are illegal."
"Ria, you are one of the most bizarre people I have ever met." Charlie said, unguardedly.
"What?"
"It doesn't matter," Charlie had a feeling that she wasn't going to let it go, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try and gloss over it.
"Yes it does. Elucidate."
"Well, any other person in your position would be in pieces by now, and here you are joking with me. Anyone would think that it was just a normal day from the way you're acting." Ria looked at him, and just for a second he saw the fear of what was to come in her eyes. But as quickly as it was revealed to him, it was as though a blue vortex sucked it away, and Ria's gaze was unfeeling once more.
"Why should I feel any different?" she demanded. "I'm only meeting a new person. We do that all the time. It's hardly something to get your knickers in a twist over." Charlie knew that she understood him, but he also realised that she didn't want to talk about it, and he wasn't willing to push her. As far as he was concerned, any information that Ria divulged to him had to be released on her terms. Much as he wanted to know all the details of her past, he was wary of bringing the topic up lest it should upset her. So he simply nodded in half-hearted agreement, and got out of bed. Merlin only knew how today was going to affect Ria. Charlie sincerely hoped that it wasn't going to have an adverse effect on her. He didn't think that she'd be able to cope if it did.
* * * *
The streets of Birmingham were bustling with businessmen and women by the time Charlie and Ria left their accommodation. Charlie watched in amusement as Ria took in their surroundings, awestruck. For a moment she was like a little girl on holiday, enthralled by her surroundings and eager to learn more. The moment passed all too quickly, however.
"Charlie, do you actually know where we're going?" she asked.
"I have a vague idea," he responded. Tom had given him specific directions both for Apparition and walking. "We can either Apparate or walk - your choice."
"I want to walk," Ria said, firmly.
"Are you sure?" Charlie looked at her doubtfully. "You don't want to make the move quickly, get it over and done with?"
"No," she said firmly. "I said I want to walk, and I meant I want to walk. I have some thinking to do." More thinking? He thought she'd done all of her thinking in Cornwall.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, gently. It had seemed like a good idea to him when he'd initiated it, but now he was beginning to wonder whether he'd have done better to mind his own business. After all of his pushing, he was offering Ria a way out if she wanted it.
"Who are you and what have you done with the real Charlie?" Ria asked. "Yes, I can cope with this. I'm not made of glass you know." Charlie wondered sometimes. Sometimes, just sometimes, he got the feeling that the tough act was all for show, that in spite of the sturdy oaken appearance on the outside, Ria was in fact as delicate as glass wand.
* * * *
Had Charlie followed his inclination to rush they could have been at the Kettleworth's house in just under ten minutes. He was handicapped by Ria's sudden dawdling, something that gave him cause to worry. Ria just didn't dawdle. She was a brisk walker at the best of times, and when she was in a hurry it was almost necessary to run to keep up with her. Charlie infinitely preferred the purposeful power-witch pace to the reflective crawl that seemed to have taken over. Finally, however, they made it to a large gravelled driveway with wrought iron gates. The Kettleworth house was impressive, that much was certain. He couldn't help comparing it to the rural friendliness of Penarddun, however. Ria's childhood home was that much more approachable than the austere grandeur of this eighteenth century creation.
"They're doing well for themselves, then," Ria said, dryly. "Nice to know that it wasn't for pecuniary reasons that they left me on the doorstep." Charlie turned to look at her. "Stop staring at me. I'm not senile just yet, you know," she told him cuttingly. "Honestly, anyone would think I was about to smash. Relax, would you!" She was telling him to relax. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way round? An innocent spectator would probably have assumed that she was his moral support! The two of them wound their way towards the front door. Ria paused hesitantly for a second, and Charlie was about to offer to ring the bell for her when she raised her hand and gave the rope a firm tug, causing a thunderous bell to echo around them. Charlie winced. Somehow this wasn't the heralding he had expected. Before he could comment, however, a man dressed in a morning suit opened the door and peered through an monocle at them.
"Yes?" he demanded, snootily.
"Oh, hello," Ria said, smiling at him. "I believe we are expected - Ariadne Rutherford and Charles Weasley?"
"Ah yes. Come in, please." The man, obviously a butler, held the door open for them, and they found themselves in a hall almost entirely inlayed with marble. Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie noticed Ria's eyebrows shoot up her forehead. "Wait here, please." He disappeared.
"I have to say, I prefer Arthur," Ria said, softly.
"Dad? What about him?" Charlie looked at her in confusion. What did his father have to do with anything?
"Not your father! Our butler! Much more approachable. This butler is one of those awful specimens who think they're a cut above you if you're not wearing evening wear when you come to call. Well, I'm terribly sorry, but I've never dressed up to visit people yet, and I'm not about to for the likes of him." The man in question's reappearance prevented any response Charlie may have had.
"Follow me, please." They tripped along behind him, and Charlie couldn't help but feel like a naughty child. Suddenly, he was thankful that home to him was the somewhat haphazard Burrow. Had he lived somewhere like this, he'd have been afraid even to breathe.
Charlie's pondering was interrupted when they stopped and the butler threw open two tall, thin, white doors.
"Miss Rutherford and Mr Weasley, Ma'am," he announced, before ushering them in and closing the doors behind them.
* * * *
Charlie was awed by the grandeur of this room. The reds and golds of the décor were far from the faded floral wallpaper that graced his parents' living room. The chairs were all red too, and velvet, and the furniture was of highly polished oak. It was all too perfect, somehow. And in the middle of it all sat a woman. As she turned to face them, Charlie could feel Ria tense beside him. Deep blue eyes rooted him to the spot, but they did not focus on him. Instead they moved to his left to hold the gaze of identical eyes. It was almost a battle for dominance - who would look away first? Finally, it was Ria who triumphed. Helena Kettleworth looked away, defeated.
"Do come in," she said, nervously. "Sit down." Miraculously, Ria took this moment to return to her normal brisk pace, just as Charlie was all too happy to mince his way around. She took a seat on a settee meant for two, and Charlie got the distinct impression that she expected him to join her. He wondered if it was simply a coincidence that Ria's choice of seat was directly opposite to Helena Kettleworth's, thus increasing the confrontational atmosphere. There was no doubt that Helena was Ria's mother. Dark blue eyes were unique to her family - Helena had then, Olivia had them, and Ria had them. "Perhaps you would like some tea?" Silence. "Or maybe coffee? Young people today do seem to have graduated from tea. And cake...? Or do you prefer biscuits?"
"Tea and cake will be fine," Ria said, and Charlie nodded. He noticed that as Helena poured her hands were shaking, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. This led to him wondering if feeling sorry for Helena made him disloyal to Ria - the woman had abandoned his best friend on a doorstep, after all. He was still trying to come to a conclusion when Ria broke the uneasy silence as she set down her cup and saucer.
"I believe you have something to tell me," she said, and Charlie was shocked at her tone - it was completely devoid of emotion. This ice queen bore no resemblance to the Ria he was used to. He looked at her and saw an uncharacteristic hardness in her eyes. This Ria was a force to be reckoned with, those absorbing and frigid orbs seemed to say.
"I- I- Yes- I-" Helena stuttered, squirming uncomfortably. Without realising it, Charlie was squirming too. Ria elbowed him in the ribs before speaking again.
"Yes... I think I'd be a bit speechless too. You could start by telling me just why it was you left me on a doorstep, and we could move on from there," Ria's tone was polite. Too polite. Dangerously polite.
"I didn't abandon you!" Helena exclaimed. Evidently that particular charge had hit home.
"No?" Ria raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps you'd explain what you call it then..."
"You don't understand," Helena said, calmly, sadly. "If you only knew..."
"Well, I'm here, and I'm all ears, so suppose you try and help me understand," Ria suggested, folding her arms across her torso. "Let's just clear the facts first, shall we. June, 1969. Jemima opens the door of a normal family home to retrieve the milk, and finds a baby on the doorstep. Milk forgotten, she picks the baby up. A note is pinned to her shawl. Ariadne, 5^th June, 1969. She classes the baby as abandoned. The Rutherfords, for whom she works, class this as abandonment. And I certainly class this as abandonment. But please, set me straight." As Ria spoke, still in that over-polite tone, Helena looked away, and Charlie would have sworn that she dabbed at her eyes before meeting Ria's gaze.
"For you to understand we have to go back long before you were born," she said, sadly. "To before I was born. Back to when Grindelwald was still alive," Ria gestured to show that she was listening. "Father supported Grindelwald." Helena said, softly. "He broke my mother's heart. More and more he was away from home, doing things that my mother couldn't imagine in her wildest dreams, actions that she certainly couldn't condone. She was young, alone, save for an army of servants, and she had a young daughter to care for. The agony that he caused her was sufficient that she turned to another man for solstice. Just once. But once was enough. I was the product of that affair. Of course, she tried to keep it from my father, not surprisingly. At best he would simply kill the man who had impregnated his wife. At worst he would have killed my mother and me. But somehow, not long after I was born, he found out. there and then he vowed to have nothing to do with me. From that day forth,
effectively, I had no father." Helena paused again, and looked at Ria almost tentatively. Ria arched one eyebrow slowly.
"I'm sure I can't imagine what that would be like," she shot, and her expression reminded Charlie of the bad guys in his old comics. He did not view this as a good thing. However, Helena was continuing, albeit stutteringly.
"I knew that something was wrong, of course. Father often visited the Nursery, but always to see Fernella. Never me. It was as though I didn't exist. My mother tried to make it up to me, though, and she did a very good job. But I was barely ten when she fell ill, and on my eleventh birthday, she died. I'm convinced that Father refused to send for medical assistance before it was too late. The fact was, I was eleven years old, and essentially, I was an orphan. The only person in the world to care for me was Fernella. Fortunately, Mama died the year that I left for Hogwarts. It was a relief to be away from the repression at home. Suddenly I was everyone's equal and worthy of attention. It was wonderful. I stayed at Hogwarts every Christmas and every Easter. Sometimes Fernie would stay with me. More often than not, she was a dutiful daughter and returned home to Father. Hogwarts was heaven, but it my time there was all too short. I left when I was seventeen, and I had no choice
but to return to Father." There was another pause, but Ria seemed to have nothing to say. There wasn't really much she could say. "Well, anyway, I decided to get a job, a little independence. Told him it was a temporary thing until I got married, and then got a post at Flourish and Blotts in London. That was deliberate - I didn't want to spend any more time than I had to with Father. I was perfectly happy with my lot at this point - if you exclude the motherless, practically fatherless status of it all. One day a man came into the shop. I served him - he bought some things on credit, and when he signed his name I realised who he was. Andrew Kettleworth, owner of Flourish and Blotts. His family founded the shop at the time of the Industrial Revolution - they were originally from Birmingham. It started out as one shop, and grew to a national level. Well, the two of us got talking - he noticed my accent. Even seven years at Hogwarts hadn't got rid of my northern burr. Next day
he came in again, invited me for lunch. Things just went from there." It made for fascinating listening, Charlie decided. He was also curious as to how the story ended. Helena spoke again. "I was nineteen when Andy proposed. Of course, I accepted. Who wouldn't - he was charming, witty, intelligent, kind... Everything Father wasn't. A match made in heaven. But there was one small problem. I was only nineteen, and this was back when witches and wizards didn't reach their majority until they were twenty-one. I needed Father's permission to marry Andy, and he wouldn't give it. Fernie was twenty-five by then, and still unmarried. Andy was an ideal catch - pure blooded and rich. My father said that he could marry Fernie instead of me. Of course, Andy refused. It was me he wanted to spend his life with. Then Father got violent. Said that if Andy didn't marry Fernie then he'd kill me." Helena's voice faltered at this point. "Well, what could Andy do? He didn't want to marry Fernie,
but he wanted me dead even less, and my father would have done as he threatened. Grindelwald had taken whatever light there was in him. Andrew and Fernella were married, and then five years later she had Geoff. Their marriage may not have been perfect, but Geoff was. Andy doted on his son, Fernie adored him and Father watched his every step with pride. I was excluded from it all. Father was scared that I'd seduce Andy or something - I don't know. But seeing them as a happy family - that was too hard for me. So I left Birmingham and secured myself another position in a family business - that of Alexander Rutherford. I worked for him for four years, and during that time his noble nature made a big impression on me. No one was more proud of his children then Alex Rutherford. He had three daughters by the time I left, and everyone knew all about Lucy, Becca and Gemma's development. He was practically the same age as me, and yet I wished Father was more like him." At the mention
of her father, Ria had sat up, as though she was going to say something. But when Helena looked at her, she said nothing, and so Helena continued. "In 1968, Fernella wrote to me, asking me to come home. I couldn't refuse her. I handed in my resignation and got the train back up to Birmingham. Fernie told me that Father had got himself involved with You-Know-Who. Never mind that he was well into his seventies by then, he was determined to support the new Dark Lord. Fernie was at her wits' end. What could I do? My father hated me, after all. My purpose was simply to support my sister. Then, one night, Andy came home drunk - his friends had taken him out for drinks and he'd had a few too many. The alcohol loosened his tongue. I've never heard more poetic declarations of love. One thing led to another. It didn't take me long to realise that I'd made a mistake. I thought that would be the end of it." Helena looked both of them in the eye, defying them to tell her that her actions
had been wrong.
"Keeping it in the family, were you?" Ria asked, a sudden angry fire in her eyes. Charlie couldn't really blame her - he'd probably have been far less restrained if it was his mother. The reference to Helena's own mother seemed to have hit the woman hard, but she held her head up and continued.
"Then I found out that I was pregnant." Thus much Charlie had anticipated, and he was pretty sure that Ria would have reached that conclusion also. He wondered how you would term it... Her mother's sister had been married to her father... It didn't bear thinking about. "I did the only thing I could. I ran away. If my father had found out he would have killed you. Besides, I couldn't risk Fernie finding out about Andy and me - it would have destroyed her. So I left Birmingham, and went to Wales. It was quiet there. I loved you even then. I used to sing to you, talk to you, read you stories. Anything that might mean you would remember me. By then I had it all worked out. There was no way I could keep you. My father would have located us eventually, and I loved to you too much to risk losing you. I would have you, and then take you to Kent and leave you with the Rutherfords. They would offer you the kind of life that I couldn't, and you'd be safe with them. I was alone when I
had you, save for my landlady. It was the hardest day of my life, the fifth day of June 1969. I never forgot the date, you see. Once you were born, I knew I had to send you away. You were a week old when I left Wales. I took the train to Kent and the Isle of Sheppey. I knew exactly where to go. I pinned your name and date of birth to your shawl. It was the last thing I could do for you, and I wanted my child to have the name I gave her. Then I left you there. It broke my heart to see you. You were so tiny, wrapped in a little white blanked that I had crocheted for you myself. I waited until they took you in. Then I left. I took the train back to Birmingham, and found out that Fernie had died not long after I left. The official verdict was accidental death, but I believe my father killed her. He was insane. He was close to death's door himself when I arrived. By the end of the month he was dead. My sister and father were gone." Helena stopped, and suddenly looked very weary.
Charlie was filled with pity. He didn't agree with what she had done - far from it. But Helena's story did not make for easy listening.
"That's it then?" Ria said, suddenly. "So, answer me this. Why, when you found out that your sister and father were dead, did you not come and get me? There were no more obstacles. It wouldn't have been hard for you."
"You're wrong. I couldn't risk it. I needed Andy. He had Geoff. I had no one. To bring you up...I couldn't risk it."
"What about me?" Ria demanded. "I had no one. Did I mean nothing to you? All this talk of love and not wanting to give me up, that's-" Ria swore, causing Charlie to look at her in shock, "and you know it."
"You had the Rutherfords. I knew they'd be good parents."
"I don't have to listen to this," Ria said, suddenly. She glared at Helena. "I don't care how many problems you had in your childhood. It was sad, yeah, and I'm sorry. But that doesn't mean you can get rid of me because of your own selfish wants. I am not some kind of possession. Charlie! We're leaving." Ria stormed out of the room. Charlie wondered dazedly whether he'd just witnessed an extract from a more sordid episode of Magic! (a wizarding soap opera). He apologised to Helena on Ria's behalf (although in his opinion she didn't deserve an apology; still it was best to be polite) and then raced after her. He didn't like the idea of her wandering around Birmingham after what they'd just heard.
* * * *
Charlie was rather out of breath when he caught up with Ria. They were about to leave when the door opened and a well-dressed man entered. He looked at the two of them, somewhat taken aback.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked Ria. "I do, don't I? You're Lucy's sister... Ria, isn't it? But what are you doing here?"
"Ask your wife," Ria replied, shortly. "We were just on our way out." She grabbed Charlie and pulled him through the door. "Adulterer," she muttered, before slamming the door behind them.
* * * *
"What did you do that for?" Charlie demanded, practically running to keep up with his friend.
"What in Merlin's name did you expect me to do?" Ria snapped. "Say `Hi Mum, nice to meet you at last'?"
"Well...no, but being civil would have been nice," Charlie pointed out.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Ria replied, cuttingly. "I was supposed to be nice to her. Charlie, I am illegitimate by my aunt's husband. That's practically incestuous. The very thought makes me feel sick. It's like being part of a bloody radio play, for Merlin's sake! This isn't a game, Charlie, this is real. Stop trying to be a superhero, and just listen for once!" That hurt, that Ria thought of him like that. Evidently dejection was written all over his features, because her face softened and she spoke again. "I love you, Charlie. You are my best friend. Never forget that. But this is one thing you're not going to understand."
"You could help me," Charlie said, earnestly. "I could try."
"For twenty-one years, I have thought that I wasn't wanted," Ria began softly. "Twenty-one years. It's a long time. No matter what people have said to the contrary, I've always felt surplus to requirements. My real parents didn't want me, why would anyone else? I thought I'd done something wrong. I distinctly remember an episode at school when I was about eight. I was having an argument with another girl about something - I can't remember what, but I'll never forget what she said. `At least I have a real Mum'. That really hurt. It wasn't true, but it was. I had a mother, a very real mother, and a mother who loved me. But she wasn't my `real' mum. When Lucy heard, she was perfectly willing to hex the girl so she couldn't sit down for a week, but that wasn't the point. As I grew up, I began to wonder - maybe my parents were poor, maybe hadn't the means to keep me. Maybe it was for my own good. But then why didn't they leave a note? Then, today, I found out it was all
selfishness. Not just Helena Kettleworth's - her father's too. Even her sister's for agreeing to go along with marrying Andy. But there was no justifiable reason as to why she left me and didn't come to get me. And you know what, Charlie? I'm tired. I'm sick and tired of always being the one that's hurt by other people. I'm... I..." Somehow, without realising it, Charlie found that he had taken Ria into his arms, was hugging her, stroking her hair, whispering words of comfort in her ear. What she had said had moved him profoundly. He couldn't begin to imagine what she'd been through. All he wanted to do was make it better.
* * * *
"Do you think you'll ever go back?" Charlie asked Ria much later, when the two of them were back at their lodgings.
"Yeah - when hell freezes over," Ria told him, and he believed her. "My mother is selfish. I don't need to go back to know that."
"What about your father?" Charlie asked.
"I hate him," Ria said, shortly. "Not only did he cheat on my aunt, but he also let my mother run away and abandon me. But it's the cheating with his own sister-in-law that makes me hate him. I don't care how much he loved Helena, he was married to Fernella. I don't care how much he'd had to drink. I hate him. I never want to see him again." Charlie nodded. He could understand that. He'd have battered his father to the ground if it had been him. But then, Ria always had been that little bit more refined. Before he could say anything of that nature, however, an owl flew through the open window and stopped by Ria. "It's from Andrew Kettleworth," she told Charlie. As she read through the letter, Charlie was concerned to see shock register on her face, and her fists clenched.
"What does it say?" he asked.
"Listen..." Ria sounded confused. "`Dear Ria, Lena has told me all about the reason for your visit, and I understand now why you were so eager to leave when we bumped into each other. Believe me, your shock was nothing compared to mine. I feel responsible for you as it was through my neglect that the situation ended up like this. I cannot grasp the fact that I have a daughter. You may or may not know that I have always wished for a girl-child. I cannot believe that Helena would keep the existence of one from me for twenty-one years. I still have to grasp the truth and forgive her. I love my wife, but I never knew that she would leave a child, even at a good home. I understand if you never want to see Lena or I again - and I wouldn't blame you, under the circumstances. I also understand that Alexander and Rosamunde Rutherford will always be your parents in every sense of the word. However, I for one would like to get to know my daughter better, now that I know she exists. If
you are willing then we would very much like to exchange correspondence with you when you return to Romania, and perhaps see you occasionally away from Lucy and Geoff's. Please forgive me for not delivering this message in person, but neither Lena nor I knew where you were staying. Yours, Andy Kettleworth.' He didn't know, Charlie! I've been alive for twenty-one years, and my own father didn't even know I existed!"
"Does that make a difference?" Charlie asked, after giving it a moment to sink in.
"I still don't agree with the adultery," Ria said slowly. "But he didn't know. I can't blame him for what happened to me. I don't know... What do I do now, Charlie?" Ria looked at him pleadingly, eyes begging for a solution.
"Do what your heart tells you," Charlie told her, simply.
"My heart?" Ria laughed, bitterly. "I don't have a heart, Charlie. It's been taken away too many times." Charlie stared at her.
"Ria, if you didn't have a heart you wouldn't hurt," he said, hugging her. "And one day, the hurt will go away. You do know that, don't you?"
"I have to write to Andrew," Ria said. "Maybe one day I'll visit them. In time I'll forgive him. Maybe one day I'll forgive her."
"Maybe. But let's not push things, eh," Charlie said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "I'm proud of you, Ria. No matter what anyone else says, remember, you're a very special lady. One in a million." Gently, Ria kissed him on the cheek.
"And you, Charlie Weasley, are a born flatterer, and a damned good friend, albeit meddlesome."
"And with superhero tendencies," Charlie added, grinning.
"And with superhero tendencies," Ria agreed, laughing. "Thanks, Charlie. Thanks for being there."
I usually put Author's notes, etc at the end of chapters, but somehow it didn't seem appropriate for this part. Firstly, I have to give huge amounts of thanks to Andy and Lou who spent hours (literally hours) helping me to rewrite this and make it more believable - without the two of you, this would never have made as much of an impact as it does now, and I'm truly grateful for all of your assistance. More thanks are due to Andy for being an invaluable beta reader, and also to Arabella for making any final important amendments. Reading their comments helps me to remember just why I am writing this story. Also, massive thanks should go to Lone Astronomer, who has been nagging me for this for quite some time (although she's been very patient about waiting for it). You're a great friend and an excellent co-webmistress! Finally, thanks to all of you, the readers out there. Your reviews make writing worthwhile, because they show that I'm not the only one who cares about the fate
of a redhead and his slightly mysterious best friend.
Okay, I do realise that this has been a particularly mushy and long A/N, but I felt it needed to be said. Having said that, all I have to say is enjoy the chapter, and apologise for the not-quite Valentine's Day theme. Oh, and Kait, if you can find the line that I said you'd like, then you deserve many brownie points. Hallie
Part X
Charlie stirred as the pale morning sunlight poured in through the window. He was vaguely conscious of someone staring at him. Cautiously, he opened his eyes to squint at the world. What he saw, in his half asleep state, was a large, black, hairy something.
"Bloody hell," he said through the furry taste of sleep.
"Morning to you too," Ria replied, turning around. Charlie marvelled at how much like a black bear she looked from behind when her sleep-tousled hair covered her back.
"Don't do that to me!" Charlie exclaimed, still trying to focus properly. Sunlight, early morning and Charlie did not mix well.
"Do what?!" Ria demanded.
"I thought you were a Grim or something!" Charlie admitted.
"Oh, Charlie, please, be your age!" Ria replied, grinning. "Firstly, Grims are entirely fictional. You know as well as I do that a large black dog is not an omen of death. My Grandfather kept one for a pet, for goodness' sake!"
"Well, Uncle Bilius saw one, and twenty-four hours later he died," Charlie informed her. He didn't think he'd ever understand her blasé attitude towards Divination. He didn't set much score by predictions himself, but omens were different.
"You are ridiculous," Ria told him, matter-of-factly. "It was an unfortunate mishap. You know as well as I do that your Uncle Bilius was in a broomstick crash. Disastrous though it may have been, you can hardly say that the poor dog was responsible for him getting all preposterous with his friends and insisting on racing. Dangerous sport, broomstick racing, but the big companies think they're good for publicity and... Well, anyway, Bilius Weasley did not see a Grim." Charlie wondered if he'd ever understand Ria. Here they were, preparing to meet her `real' mother and all she was worried about was his preconception with omens. He'd have been hysterical by now if it were him. Well... maybe not hysterical, but he'd certainly be a lot more tense than Ria seemed to be.
"All I said was that you looked like a Grim."
"Charmed, I'm sure," Ria replied, flicking a hand towel at him.
"You're very cute when you're asleep though," he added, suddenly realising that his previous comment could have been interpreted as insulting.
"Been watching me while I'm asleep, have you?"
"Well, there was nothing better to do," Charlie pointed out.
"I can think of several things," Ria said, wickedly. "But most of them are illegal."
"Ria, you are one of the most bizarre people I have ever met." Charlie said, unguardedly.
"What?"
"It doesn't matter," Charlie had a feeling that she wasn't going to let it go, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try and gloss over it.
"Yes it does. Elucidate."
"Well, any other person in your position would be in pieces by now, and here you are joking with me. Anyone would think that it was just a normal day from the way you're acting." Ria looked at him, and just for a second he saw the fear of what was to come in her eyes. But as quickly as it was revealed to him, it was as though a blue vortex sucked it away, and Ria's gaze was unfeeling once more.
"Why should I feel any different?" she demanded. "I'm only meeting a new person. We do that all the time. It's hardly something to get your knickers in a twist over." Charlie knew that she understood him, but he also realised that she didn't want to talk about it, and he wasn't willing to push her. As far as he was concerned, any information that Ria divulged to him had to be released on her terms. Much as he wanted to know all the details of her past, he was wary of bringing the topic up lest it should upset her. So he simply nodded in half-hearted agreement, and got out of bed. Merlin only knew how today was going to affect Ria. Charlie sincerely hoped that it wasn't going to have an adverse effect on her. He didn't think that she'd be able to cope if it did.
* * * *
The streets of Birmingham were bustling with businessmen and women by the time Charlie and Ria left their accommodation. Charlie watched in amusement as Ria took in their surroundings, awestruck. For a moment she was like a little girl on holiday, enthralled by her surroundings and eager to learn more. The moment passed all too quickly, however.
"Charlie, do you actually know where we're going?" she asked.
"I have a vague idea," he responded. Tom had given him specific directions both for Apparition and walking. "We can either Apparate or walk - your choice."
"I want to walk," Ria said, firmly.
"Are you sure?" Charlie looked at her doubtfully. "You don't want to make the move quickly, get it over and done with?"
"No," she said firmly. "I said I want to walk, and I meant I want to walk. I have some thinking to do." More thinking? He thought she'd done all of her thinking in Cornwall.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, gently. It had seemed like a good idea to him when he'd initiated it, but now he was beginning to wonder whether he'd have done better to mind his own business. After all of his pushing, he was offering Ria a way out if she wanted it.
"Who are you and what have you done with the real Charlie?" Ria asked. "Yes, I can cope with this. I'm not made of glass you know." Charlie wondered sometimes. Sometimes, just sometimes, he got the feeling that the tough act was all for show, that in spite of the sturdy oaken appearance on the outside, Ria was in fact as delicate as glass wand.
* * * *
Had Charlie followed his inclination to rush they could have been at the Kettleworth's house in just under ten minutes. He was handicapped by Ria's sudden dawdling, something that gave him cause to worry. Ria just didn't dawdle. She was a brisk walker at the best of times, and when she was in a hurry it was almost necessary to run to keep up with her. Charlie infinitely preferred the purposeful power-witch pace to the reflective crawl that seemed to have taken over. Finally, however, they made it to a large gravelled driveway with wrought iron gates. The Kettleworth house was impressive, that much was certain. He couldn't help comparing it to the rural friendliness of Penarddun, however. Ria's childhood home was that much more approachable than the austere grandeur of this eighteenth century creation.
"They're doing well for themselves, then," Ria said, dryly. "Nice to know that it wasn't for pecuniary reasons that they left me on the doorstep." Charlie turned to look at her. "Stop staring at me. I'm not senile just yet, you know," she told him cuttingly. "Honestly, anyone would think I was about to smash. Relax, would you!" She was telling him to relax. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way round? An innocent spectator would probably have assumed that she was his moral support! The two of them wound their way towards the front door. Ria paused hesitantly for a second, and Charlie was about to offer to ring the bell for her when she raised her hand and gave the rope a firm tug, causing a thunderous bell to echo around them. Charlie winced. Somehow this wasn't the heralding he had expected. Before he could comment, however, a man dressed in a morning suit opened the door and peered through an monocle at them.
"Yes?" he demanded, snootily.
"Oh, hello," Ria said, smiling at him. "I believe we are expected - Ariadne Rutherford and Charles Weasley?"
"Ah yes. Come in, please." The man, obviously a butler, held the door open for them, and they found themselves in a hall almost entirely inlayed with marble. Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie noticed Ria's eyebrows shoot up her forehead. "Wait here, please." He disappeared.
"I have to say, I prefer Arthur," Ria said, softly.
"Dad? What about him?" Charlie looked at her in confusion. What did his father have to do with anything?
"Not your father! Our butler! Much more approachable. This butler is one of those awful specimens who think they're a cut above you if you're not wearing evening wear when you come to call. Well, I'm terribly sorry, but I've never dressed up to visit people yet, and I'm not about to for the likes of him." The man in question's reappearance prevented any response Charlie may have had.
"Follow me, please." They tripped along behind him, and Charlie couldn't help but feel like a naughty child. Suddenly, he was thankful that home to him was the somewhat haphazard Burrow. Had he lived somewhere like this, he'd have been afraid even to breathe.
Charlie's pondering was interrupted when they stopped and the butler threw open two tall, thin, white doors.
"Miss Rutherford and Mr Weasley, Ma'am," he announced, before ushering them in and closing the doors behind them.
* * * *
Charlie was awed by the grandeur of this room. The reds and golds of the décor were far from the faded floral wallpaper that graced his parents' living room. The chairs were all red too, and velvet, and the furniture was of highly polished oak. It was all too perfect, somehow. And in the middle of it all sat a woman. As she turned to face them, Charlie could feel Ria tense beside him. Deep blue eyes rooted him to the spot, but they did not focus on him. Instead they moved to his left to hold the gaze of identical eyes. It was almost a battle for dominance - who would look away first? Finally, it was Ria who triumphed. Helena Kettleworth looked away, defeated.
"Do come in," she said, nervously. "Sit down." Miraculously, Ria took this moment to return to her normal brisk pace, just as Charlie was all too happy to mince his way around. She took a seat on a settee meant for two, and Charlie got the distinct impression that she expected him to join her. He wondered if it was simply a coincidence that Ria's choice of seat was directly opposite to Helena Kettleworth's, thus increasing the confrontational atmosphere. There was no doubt that Helena was Ria's mother. Dark blue eyes were unique to her family - Helena had then, Olivia had them, and Ria had them. "Perhaps you would like some tea?" Silence. "Or maybe coffee? Young people today do seem to have graduated from tea. And cake...? Or do you prefer biscuits?"
"Tea and cake will be fine," Ria said, and Charlie nodded. He noticed that as Helena poured her hands were shaking, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. This led to him wondering if feeling sorry for Helena made him disloyal to Ria - the woman had abandoned his best friend on a doorstep, after all. He was still trying to come to a conclusion when Ria broke the uneasy silence as she set down her cup and saucer.
"I believe you have something to tell me," she said, and Charlie was shocked at her tone - it was completely devoid of emotion. This ice queen bore no resemblance to the Ria he was used to. He looked at her and saw an uncharacteristic hardness in her eyes. This Ria was a force to be reckoned with, those absorbing and frigid orbs seemed to say.
"I- I- Yes- I-" Helena stuttered, squirming uncomfortably. Without realising it, Charlie was squirming too. Ria elbowed him in the ribs before speaking again.
"Yes... I think I'd be a bit speechless too. You could start by telling me just why it was you left me on a doorstep, and we could move on from there," Ria's tone was polite. Too polite. Dangerously polite.
"I didn't abandon you!" Helena exclaimed. Evidently that particular charge had hit home.
"No?" Ria raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps you'd explain what you call it then..."
"You don't understand," Helena said, calmly, sadly. "If you only knew..."
"Well, I'm here, and I'm all ears, so suppose you try and help me understand," Ria suggested, folding her arms across her torso. "Let's just clear the facts first, shall we. June, 1969. Jemima opens the door of a normal family home to retrieve the milk, and finds a baby on the doorstep. Milk forgotten, she picks the baby up. A note is pinned to her shawl. Ariadne, 5^th June, 1969. She classes the baby as abandoned. The Rutherfords, for whom she works, class this as abandonment. And I certainly class this as abandonment. But please, set me straight." As Ria spoke, still in that over-polite tone, Helena looked away, and Charlie would have sworn that she dabbed at her eyes before meeting Ria's gaze.
"For you to understand we have to go back long before you were born," she said, sadly. "To before I was born. Back to when Grindelwald was still alive," Ria gestured to show that she was listening. "Father supported Grindelwald." Helena said, softly. "He broke my mother's heart. More and more he was away from home, doing things that my mother couldn't imagine in her wildest dreams, actions that she certainly couldn't condone. She was young, alone, save for an army of servants, and she had a young daughter to care for. The agony that he caused her was sufficient that she turned to another man for solstice. Just once. But once was enough. I was the product of that affair. Of course, she tried to keep it from my father, not surprisingly. At best he would simply kill the man who had impregnated his wife. At worst he would have killed my mother and me. But somehow, not long after I was born, he found out. there and then he vowed to have nothing to do with me. From that day forth,
effectively, I had no father." Helena paused again, and looked at Ria almost tentatively. Ria arched one eyebrow slowly.
"I'm sure I can't imagine what that would be like," she shot, and her expression reminded Charlie of the bad guys in his old comics. He did not view this as a good thing. However, Helena was continuing, albeit stutteringly.
"I knew that something was wrong, of course. Father often visited the Nursery, but always to see Fernella. Never me. It was as though I didn't exist. My mother tried to make it up to me, though, and she did a very good job. But I was barely ten when she fell ill, and on my eleventh birthday, she died. I'm convinced that Father refused to send for medical assistance before it was too late. The fact was, I was eleven years old, and essentially, I was an orphan. The only person in the world to care for me was Fernella. Fortunately, Mama died the year that I left for Hogwarts. It was a relief to be away from the repression at home. Suddenly I was everyone's equal and worthy of attention. It was wonderful. I stayed at Hogwarts every Christmas and every Easter. Sometimes Fernie would stay with me. More often than not, she was a dutiful daughter and returned home to Father. Hogwarts was heaven, but it my time there was all too short. I left when I was seventeen, and I had no choice
but to return to Father." There was another pause, but Ria seemed to have nothing to say. There wasn't really much she could say. "Well, anyway, I decided to get a job, a little independence. Told him it was a temporary thing until I got married, and then got a post at Flourish and Blotts in London. That was deliberate - I didn't want to spend any more time than I had to with Father. I was perfectly happy with my lot at this point - if you exclude the motherless, practically fatherless status of it all. One day a man came into the shop. I served him - he bought some things on credit, and when he signed his name I realised who he was. Andrew Kettleworth, owner of Flourish and Blotts. His family founded the shop at the time of the Industrial Revolution - they were originally from Birmingham. It started out as one shop, and grew to a national level. Well, the two of us got talking - he noticed my accent. Even seven years at Hogwarts hadn't got rid of my northern burr. Next day
he came in again, invited me for lunch. Things just went from there." It made for fascinating listening, Charlie decided. He was also curious as to how the story ended. Helena spoke again. "I was nineteen when Andy proposed. Of course, I accepted. Who wouldn't - he was charming, witty, intelligent, kind... Everything Father wasn't. A match made in heaven. But there was one small problem. I was only nineteen, and this was back when witches and wizards didn't reach their majority until they were twenty-one. I needed Father's permission to marry Andy, and he wouldn't give it. Fernie was twenty-five by then, and still unmarried. Andy was an ideal catch - pure blooded and rich. My father said that he could marry Fernie instead of me. Of course, Andy refused. It was me he wanted to spend his life with. Then Father got violent. Said that if Andy didn't marry Fernie then he'd kill me." Helena's voice faltered at this point. "Well, what could Andy do? He didn't want to marry Fernie,
but he wanted me dead even less, and my father would have done as he threatened. Grindelwald had taken whatever light there was in him. Andrew and Fernella were married, and then five years later she had Geoff. Their marriage may not have been perfect, but Geoff was. Andy doted on his son, Fernie adored him and Father watched his every step with pride. I was excluded from it all. Father was scared that I'd seduce Andy or something - I don't know. But seeing them as a happy family - that was too hard for me. So I left Birmingham and secured myself another position in a family business - that of Alexander Rutherford. I worked for him for four years, and during that time his noble nature made a big impression on me. No one was more proud of his children then Alex Rutherford. He had three daughters by the time I left, and everyone knew all about Lucy, Becca and Gemma's development. He was practically the same age as me, and yet I wished Father was more like him." At the mention
of her father, Ria had sat up, as though she was going to say something. But when Helena looked at her, she said nothing, and so Helena continued. "In 1968, Fernella wrote to me, asking me to come home. I couldn't refuse her. I handed in my resignation and got the train back up to Birmingham. Fernie told me that Father had got himself involved with You-Know-Who. Never mind that he was well into his seventies by then, he was determined to support the new Dark Lord. Fernie was at her wits' end. What could I do? My father hated me, after all. My purpose was simply to support my sister. Then, one night, Andy came home drunk - his friends had taken him out for drinks and he'd had a few too many. The alcohol loosened his tongue. I've never heard more poetic declarations of love. One thing led to another. It didn't take me long to realise that I'd made a mistake. I thought that would be the end of it." Helena looked both of them in the eye, defying them to tell her that her actions
had been wrong.
"Keeping it in the family, were you?" Ria asked, a sudden angry fire in her eyes. Charlie couldn't really blame her - he'd probably have been far less restrained if it was his mother. The reference to Helena's own mother seemed to have hit the woman hard, but she held her head up and continued.
"Then I found out that I was pregnant." Thus much Charlie had anticipated, and he was pretty sure that Ria would have reached that conclusion also. He wondered how you would term it... Her mother's sister had been married to her father... It didn't bear thinking about. "I did the only thing I could. I ran away. If my father had found out he would have killed you. Besides, I couldn't risk Fernie finding out about Andy and me - it would have destroyed her. So I left Birmingham, and went to Wales. It was quiet there. I loved you even then. I used to sing to you, talk to you, read you stories. Anything that might mean you would remember me. By then I had it all worked out. There was no way I could keep you. My father would have located us eventually, and I loved to you too much to risk losing you. I would have you, and then take you to Kent and leave you with the Rutherfords. They would offer you the kind of life that I couldn't, and you'd be safe with them. I was alone when I
had you, save for my landlady. It was the hardest day of my life, the fifth day of June 1969. I never forgot the date, you see. Once you were born, I knew I had to send you away. You were a week old when I left Wales. I took the train to Kent and the Isle of Sheppey. I knew exactly where to go. I pinned your name and date of birth to your shawl. It was the last thing I could do for you, and I wanted my child to have the name I gave her. Then I left you there. It broke my heart to see you. You were so tiny, wrapped in a little white blanked that I had crocheted for you myself. I waited until they took you in. Then I left. I took the train back to Birmingham, and found out that Fernie had died not long after I left. The official verdict was accidental death, but I believe my father killed her. He was insane. He was close to death's door himself when I arrived. By the end of the month he was dead. My sister and father were gone." Helena stopped, and suddenly looked very weary.
Charlie was filled with pity. He didn't agree with what she had done - far from it. But Helena's story did not make for easy listening.
"That's it then?" Ria said, suddenly. "So, answer me this. Why, when you found out that your sister and father were dead, did you not come and get me? There were no more obstacles. It wouldn't have been hard for you."
"You're wrong. I couldn't risk it. I needed Andy. He had Geoff. I had no one. To bring you up...I couldn't risk it."
"What about me?" Ria demanded. "I had no one. Did I mean nothing to you? All this talk of love and not wanting to give me up, that's-" Ria swore, causing Charlie to look at her in shock, "and you know it."
"You had the Rutherfords. I knew they'd be good parents."
"I don't have to listen to this," Ria said, suddenly. She glared at Helena. "I don't care how many problems you had in your childhood. It was sad, yeah, and I'm sorry. But that doesn't mean you can get rid of me because of your own selfish wants. I am not some kind of possession. Charlie! We're leaving." Ria stormed out of the room. Charlie wondered dazedly whether he'd just witnessed an extract from a more sordid episode of Magic! (a wizarding soap opera). He apologised to Helena on Ria's behalf (although in his opinion she didn't deserve an apology; still it was best to be polite) and then raced after her. He didn't like the idea of her wandering around Birmingham after what they'd just heard.
* * * *
Charlie was rather out of breath when he caught up with Ria. They were about to leave when the door opened and a well-dressed man entered. He looked at the two of them, somewhat taken aback.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked Ria. "I do, don't I? You're Lucy's sister... Ria, isn't it? But what are you doing here?"
"Ask your wife," Ria replied, shortly. "We were just on our way out." She grabbed Charlie and pulled him through the door. "Adulterer," she muttered, before slamming the door behind them.
* * * *
"What did you do that for?" Charlie demanded, practically running to keep up with his friend.
"What in Merlin's name did you expect me to do?" Ria snapped. "Say `Hi Mum, nice to meet you at last'?"
"Well...no, but being civil would have been nice," Charlie pointed out.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Ria replied, cuttingly. "I was supposed to be nice to her. Charlie, I am illegitimate by my aunt's husband. That's practically incestuous. The very thought makes me feel sick. It's like being part of a bloody radio play, for Merlin's sake! This isn't a game, Charlie, this is real. Stop trying to be a superhero, and just listen for once!" That hurt, that Ria thought of him like that. Evidently dejection was written all over his features, because her face softened and she spoke again. "I love you, Charlie. You are my best friend. Never forget that. But this is one thing you're not going to understand."
"You could help me," Charlie said, earnestly. "I could try."
"For twenty-one years, I have thought that I wasn't wanted," Ria began softly. "Twenty-one years. It's a long time. No matter what people have said to the contrary, I've always felt surplus to requirements. My real parents didn't want me, why would anyone else? I thought I'd done something wrong. I distinctly remember an episode at school when I was about eight. I was having an argument with another girl about something - I can't remember what, but I'll never forget what she said. `At least I have a real Mum'. That really hurt. It wasn't true, but it was. I had a mother, a very real mother, and a mother who loved me. But she wasn't my `real' mum. When Lucy heard, she was perfectly willing to hex the girl so she couldn't sit down for a week, but that wasn't the point. As I grew up, I began to wonder - maybe my parents were poor, maybe hadn't the means to keep me. Maybe it was for my own good. But then why didn't they leave a note? Then, today, I found out it was all
selfishness. Not just Helena Kettleworth's - her father's too. Even her sister's for agreeing to go along with marrying Andy. But there was no justifiable reason as to why she left me and didn't come to get me. And you know what, Charlie? I'm tired. I'm sick and tired of always being the one that's hurt by other people. I'm... I..." Somehow, without realising it, Charlie found that he had taken Ria into his arms, was hugging her, stroking her hair, whispering words of comfort in her ear. What she had said had moved him profoundly. He couldn't begin to imagine what she'd been through. All he wanted to do was make it better.
* * * *
"Do you think you'll ever go back?" Charlie asked Ria much later, when the two of them were back at their lodgings.
"Yeah - when hell freezes over," Ria told him, and he believed her. "My mother is selfish. I don't need to go back to know that."
"What about your father?" Charlie asked.
"I hate him," Ria said, shortly. "Not only did he cheat on my aunt, but he also let my mother run away and abandon me. But it's the cheating with his own sister-in-law that makes me hate him. I don't care how much he loved Helena, he was married to Fernella. I don't care how much he'd had to drink. I hate him. I never want to see him again." Charlie nodded. He could understand that. He'd have battered his father to the ground if it had been him. But then, Ria always had been that little bit more refined. Before he could say anything of that nature, however, an owl flew through the open window and stopped by Ria. "It's from Andrew Kettleworth," she told Charlie. As she read through the letter, Charlie was concerned to see shock register on her face, and her fists clenched.
"What does it say?" he asked.
"Listen..." Ria sounded confused. "`Dear Ria, Lena has told me all about the reason for your visit, and I understand now why you were so eager to leave when we bumped into each other. Believe me, your shock was nothing compared to mine. I feel responsible for you as it was through my neglect that the situation ended up like this. I cannot grasp the fact that I have a daughter. You may or may not know that I have always wished for a girl-child. I cannot believe that Helena would keep the existence of one from me for twenty-one years. I still have to grasp the truth and forgive her. I love my wife, but I never knew that she would leave a child, even at a good home. I understand if you never want to see Lena or I again - and I wouldn't blame you, under the circumstances. I also understand that Alexander and Rosamunde Rutherford will always be your parents in every sense of the word. However, I for one would like to get to know my daughter better, now that I know she exists. If
you are willing then we would very much like to exchange correspondence with you when you return to Romania, and perhaps see you occasionally away from Lucy and Geoff's. Please forgive me for not delivering this message in person, but neither Lena nor I knew where you were staying. Yours, Andy Kettleworth.' He didn't know, Charlie! I've been alive for twenty-one years, and my own father didn't even know I existed!"
"Does that make a difference?" Charlie asked, after giving it a moment to sink in.
"I still don't agree with the adultery," Ria said slowly. "But he didn't know. I can't blame him for what happened to me. I don't know... What do I do now, Charlie?" Ria looked at him pleadingly, eyes begging for a solution.
"Do what your heart tells you," Charlie told her, simply.
"My heart?" Ria laughed, bitterly. "I don't have a heart, Charlie. It's been taken away too many times." Charlie stared at her.
"Ria, if you didn't have a heart you wouldn't hurt," he said, hugging her. "And one day, the hurt will go away. You do know that, don't you?"
"I have to write to Andrew," Ria said. "Maybe one day I'll visit them. In time I'll forgive him. Maybe one day I'll forgive her."
"Maybe. But let's not push things, eh," Charlie said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "I'm proud of you, Ria. No matter what anyone else says, remember, you're a very special lady. One in a million." Gently, Ria kissed him on the cheek.
"And you, Charlie Weasley, are a born flatterer, and a damned good friend, albeit meddlesome."
"And with superhero tendencies," Charlie added, grinning.
"And with superhero tendencies," Ria agreed, laughing. "Thanks, Charlie. Thanks for being there."