The Romanticism of Simplicity
Chapter Five
Around eight o' clock Gemma and Ron were stirred awake by a voice ringing out from the butler's horn at her front door.
"I'll get it," he muttered, falling out of the bed and heading out to the living room.
She couldn't make out what they were saying, but heard Ron open the front door and come back a few seconds later with what sounded like two more people. 'Don't they know it's a Saturday' she thought to herself as she walked around the corner to greet them, even more sore than the day before. They must not have heard her come in because they didn't turn around until she spoke.
"Hullo," she said, stifling a yawn.
Ron turned his attention in her direction and the two men he was chatting with did the same. One of them was an older fellow, wearing full robes and who looked an awful lot like Ron. The other was someone she hadn't seen in years.
"James?" she gasped, scrutinizing his familiar feautres.
The tall, burly man turned around and was suddenly taken aback by the sight of her. He had been expecting to see the girl he had left back at Hogwart's but she was definately not that girl anymore.
"H-hullo Gemma," he stammered, catching his breath. 'God she looks beautiful,' he thought.
As he examined her bare legs and touseled hair (as well as all the nasty little cuts and bruises) he became increasingly aware of his own faded jeans and raggedy cape. He had hoped that all the old feelings he'd had for her would have faded, but if anything, they were stronger than ever. She took a small step closer and the familiar pang in his chest returned wtih a vengence.
She wanted more than anything to reach out and yank him into a tight embrace, but her pride wouldn't let her. "W-what are you doing here?"
"I got a letter from Fudge last night telling me I was needed. I ran into Mr. Weasley here at the ministry and when I told him I'd need to find you, he was kind enough to show me the way."
"Mr. Weasley?" she let her eyes fall back to the other man who had taken off his hat and cloak.
"This is my dad," Ron smiled. "Arthur Weasley."
"Nice to finally meet you," Arthur added.
"You too," Gemma assured him, looking back to James. "I don't understand. Why did you need to find me?"
He caught her eyes and his stomach lurched violently. What a gorgeous mess she was. "Apparantly you're the only one capable of filling me in."
"Filling you in on what?" she questioned.
"On all the strange happenings that may or may not have something to do with Vol..." he sighed loudly. Even though he had been dead for almost five years, it was still difficult to spit out his name. "Voldemort."
She raked her fingers through her hair in an attempt to gather her thoughts. "I haven't seen you in years James."
"That's what I said, but he said it was important that I come to you."
"Look James," she sighed. "I really don't think I should..."
She was cut short by the sound of someone clearing their throat.
"Uh," Arthur chimed in nervously. "There might just be a reason Fudge sent Mr. Wills here to you."
She eyed him suspiciously. "And what reason would that be?"
"Yeah Dad," Ron added. "Do you know something?"
"No," he answered, avoiding eye contact. "I just think that it would be best to follow Fudge's orders."
"He's right Gemma," James nodded.
She shook her head decisively. "I'm sorry, but I just can't."
"Now, now," Arthur chided. "Don't make any hasty decisions. I'm sure whatever the problem is, you both can talk through it."
"I really don't think so."
James's heart sank deep into the pitt of his stomach. "It's fine Arthur, really. I'll just..."
He held up his hands to hush him. "No, now I insist."
"Arthur," Gemma breathed.
"I'm sorry I can't give you a better explanation dear, but I can't stress to you enough how important it is that you two make up."
"What's going on Dad?" Ron asked anxiously.
"All I'm saying is that you should at least try."
No one said anything else for what seemed like hours before James finally made eye contact with Gemma.
"What do you say?"
She couldn't believe what was happening. He had been her best friend when she was younger. When life seemed at it's worst, he had been the reason she kept going. She had needed him desperately, especially during seventh year when Voldemort was at his peak, and one day she went to meet him and he was gone. No note, no message, no nothing. He was just gone and she hadn't heard from him since. How could she possibly get passed the hurt he'd caused her so many years ago when the wounds were still so fresh? How could she willingly allow this man back into her life?
"Gemma," James continued.
"I'm sorry," she exhaled. "I just don't know."
She turned around and started off towards the bedroom and the three of them watched, unsure of what to do.
"You guys should probably go up to may flat," Ron suggested. "I'll check on her."
They both agreed.
"See you up there son," Arthur grinned grievously.
In the bedroom, Gemma was pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and fighting a losing battle against the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
"Going somewhere?" he asked, watching her pull a jumper down over his old shirt hurriedly.
"I can't be here right now," she cried. "Not while he's here."
"Where are you going?"
She bent down slowly to tie her boots, grabbing her wand from the nightstand on her way up. "Dunno."
"When will you be back?"
"Dunno."
"I can't promise they'll be gone by the time you get back."
"It doesn't matter. I just need some time to myself. To think things through."
He watched as she hooked her cape around her neck and tied up her long hair in a loose knot.
"C'mere," he said, holding his arms open.
She slipped into them without any argument. "Why is this happening?" she questioned. "Why now? Why after all these years does he have to show up at my doorstep? Why couldn't he just stay gone?"
He squeezed her hard, wishing he could ease her mind. Something was going on and whatever it was it was definately big.
Chapter Five
Around eight o' clock Gemma and Ron were stirred awake by a voice ringing out from the butler's horn at her front door.
"I'll get it," he muttered, falling out of the bed and heading out to the living room.
She couldn't make out what they were saying, but heard Ron open the front door and come back a few seconds later with what sounded like two more people. 'Don't they know it's a Saturday' she thought to herself as she walked around the corner to greet them, even more sore than the day before. They must not have heard her come in because they didn't turn around until she spoke.
"Hullo," she said, stifling a yawn.
Ron turned his attention in her direction and the two men he was chatting with did the same. One of them was an older fellow, wearing full robes and who looked an awful lot like Ron. The other was someone she hadn't seen in years.
"James?" she gasped, scrutinizing his familiar feautres.
The tall, burly man turned around and was suddenly taken aback by the sight of her. He had been expecting to see the girl he had left back at Hogwart's but she was definately not that girl anymore.
"H-hullo Gemma," he stammered, catching his breath. 'God she looks beautiful,' he thought.
As he examined her bare legs and touseled hair (as well as all the nasty little cuts and bruises) he became increasingly aware of his own faded jeans and raggedy cape. He had hoped that all the old feelings he'd had for her would have faded, but if anything, they were stronger than ever. She took a small step closer and the familiar pang in his chest returned wtih a vengence.
She wanted more than anything to reach out and yank him into a tight embrace, but her pride wouldn't let her. "W-what are you doing here?"
"I got a letter from Fudge last night telling me I was needed. I ran into Mr. Weasley here at the ministry and when I told him I'd need to find you, he was kind enough to show me the way."
"Mr. Weasley?" she let her eyes fall back to the other man who had taken off his hat and cloak.
"This is my dad," Ron smiled. "Arthur Weasley."
"Nice to finally meet you," Arthur added.
"You too," Gemma assured him, looking back to James. "I don't understand. Why did you need to find me?"
He caught her eyes and his stomach lurched violently. What a gorgeous mess she was. "Apparantly you're the only one capable of filling me in."
"Filling you in on what?" she questioned.
"On all the strange happenings that may or may not have something to do with Vol..." he sighed loudly. Even though he had been dead for almost five years, it was still difficult to spit out his name. "Voldemort."
She raked her fingers through her hair in an attempt to gather her thoughts. "I haven't seen you in years James."
"That's what I said, but he said it was important that I come to you."
"Look James," she sighed. "I really don't think I should..."
She was cut short by the sound of someone clearing their throat.
"Uh," Arthur chimed in nervously. "There might just be a reason Fudge sent Mr. Wills here to you."
She eyed him suspiciously. "And what reason would that be?"
"Yeah Dad," Ron added. "Do you know something?"
"No," he answered, avoiding eye contact. "I just think that it would be best to follow Fudge's orders."
"He's right Gemma," James nodded.
She shook her head decisively. "I'm sorry, but I just can't."
"Now, now," Arthur chided. "Don't make any hasty decisions. I'm sure whatever the problem is, you both can talk through it."
"I really don't think so."
James's heart sank deep into the pitt of his stomach. "It's fine Arthur, really. I'll just..."
He held up his hands to hush him. "No, now I insist."
"Arthur," Gemma breathed.
"I'm sorry I can't give you a better explanation dear, but I can't stress to you enough how important it is that you two make up."
"What's going on Dad?" Ron asked anxiously.
"All I'm saying is that you should at least try."
No one said anything else for what seemed like hours before James finally made eye contact with Gemma.
"What do you say?"
She couldn't believe what was happening. He had been her best friend when she was younger. When life seemed at it's worst, he had been the reason she kept going. She had needed him desperately, especially during seventh year when Voldemort was at his peak, and one day she went to meet him and he was gone. No note, no message, no nothing. He was just gone and she hadn't heard from him since. How could she possibly get passed the hurt he'd caused her so many years ago when the wounds were still so fresh? How could she willingly allow this man back into her life?
"Gemma," James continued.
"I'm sorry," she exhaled. "I just don't know."
She turned around and started off towards the bedroom and the three of them watched, unsure of what to do.
"You guys should probably go up to may flat," Ron suggested. "I'll check on her."
They both agreed.
"See you up there son," Arthur grinned grievously.
In the bedroom, Gemma was pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and fighting a losing battle against the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
"Going somewhere?" he asked, watching her pull a jumper down over his old shirt hurriedly.
"I can't be here right now," she cried. "Not while he's here."
"Where are you going?"
She bent down slowly to tie her boots, grabbing her wand from the nightstand on her way up. "Dunno."
"When will you be back?"
"Dunno."
"I can't promise they'll be gone by the time you get back."
"It doesn't matter. I just need some time to myself. To think things through."
He watched as she hooked her cape around her neck and tied up her long hair in a loose knot.
"C'mere," he said, holding his arms open.
She slipped into them without any argument. "Why is this happening?" she questioned. "Why now? Why after all these years does he have to show up at my doorstep? Why couldn't he just stay gone?"
He squeezed her hard, wishing he could ease her mind. Something was going on and whatever it was it was definately big.