Author's Note: The song in this chapter is "Sunrise, Sunset", from the musical Fiddler on the Roof. See, I can be taught!
Chapter 21
Ginny trudged up the staircase to the girls' dormitory to change for the party that was already under way. Right as she passed by the fifth years' dorm room, something caught her eye. She walked to the doorway, and looked at Hermione, who was intensely studying a large stack of papers. Remembering her earlier conversation with Isabelle, and in the spirit of making Harry happy, she quietly knocked on the door.
"Come in," Hermione called out distractedly.
"You missed a good match," Ginny said, a little more sharply than she intended to.
"No, I didn't. I got there five minutes late, but I saw the rest of the match."
"Oh." She bit her lip, thinking of something to say. Professor Evans is wrong, she decided. Hermione definitely deserves the title of Ice Queen. "What are you working on?"
She looked up, and held up a title. "Trying to figure out what in the world killed my mother. Harry says I'm obsessed, but everyone needs a hobby, right? Anyway, these are a bunch of medical textbooks I picked up from the library at St. Mungo's over the Christmas holidays. Don't let Professor Snape know I have them, though."
"Why not?"
"He'll subtract a ton of points from Gryffindor. Isabelle says he lost someone he loved very much to the same heart disease my mother had a long time ago, but he's not totally over it." She shrugged.
"Weird."
"Tell me about it." Hermione rolled her eyes. "He didn't go off on you. Apparently Mum got infective whatever-it-is from doing drugs, so this is where this comes in. It would be quite helpful, if I could understand a single word of it."
"What is it?" Taking a leap of faith, Ginny crossed the room and sat down.
"Isabelle's doctoral thesis from NYU. It's on designer drugs, and their effects on the human body. And, it has a section on tainted paraphernalia, which is the part I need."
"How did you get that? Did Professor Evans give it to you?"
"No, I nicked it from her office. If I were brave enough, I'd ask her to explain it to me. Ginny, she's beyond a genius. It's like her IQ level is here," she held her hand about two feet off the ground, "and the rest of us mere mortals function at about this level." She put her hand on the floor.
Ginny flipped through the complicated chemistry formulas and detailed analysis. "I see what you mean."
"Do you know what the crazy part is? She wrote this while on a global tour with her ballet company. Look at these notes I found stuck in the back of the paper." Hermione pulled out a fistful of jagged papers filled with garbled handwriting. "Wonder what they say – maybe more formulas or something."
"Don't forget sale at Crate & Barrel this Friday – need lamp and bookshelf," Ginny read.
"How'd you know that?" she asked, amazed.
"They're in Gaelic. My whole bloody family's Irish, so I know a little bit of the language. Mostly swear words."
"What does this one say?"
"Rent due on Thursday." Ginny picked up another piece. "Dinner with Lucius at 5:00."
"As in Lucius Malfoy? Why would Isabelle have dinner with him?" Her eyes were as big as saucers.
"Dunno." She looked equally shocked.
"Well, does the note say anything else?" Hermione wrung her hands nervously.
Harry quietly crept down the hallway of the girls' dormitory. It had been at least a half hour since Ginny left to change, and he was beginning to wonder if she was all right. He heard voices at the end of the hall, and peeked into the room. Blinking, he stared at his glass and walked back downstairs.
"Hey, Ron," he hissed. "You have to come see something. You're not going to believe this."
He led Ron upstairs and pointed into the dorm room, where Ginny and Hermione were lost in conversation, chatting and laughing like old friends.
"Uh, is this the end of the world, or did Fred spike my drink?" Harry asked, amazed.
"I was wondering the same exact thing," Ron replied. "Maybe we should just let them be."
"Good idea." They snuck back down to the party; both wondering what Ginny and Hermione could possibly be talking about.
-----
"Going to the chapel and you're going to get married," Isabelle sang, teasing Fleur as they boarded the Hogwarts Express to London. From there, they planned to travel to Fleur's hometown in France to make last-minute wedding arrangements.She beamed. "I can't believe that it's almost Easter holidays already."
"Well, this is a whirlwind courtship."
"So was my parents', and they've been married for almost thirty years," Fleur answered.
"So was mine and Sergei's, and I've been trying to divorce him for almost three years now," Isabelle pointed out.
"But did you really love him?"
"Yes, but I loved someone else more, who I was desperately trying to forget." She sighed, sinking into the comfortable bench. "And that blinded me to the truth about my husband – that he's a brutal, cruel man incapable of loving someone else, especially me. He used me just like every other man on planet earth. Where did you find such a good one, anyway?"
"Luck, I suppose."
The train creaked as it left the station. Fleur looked at her friend thoughtfully. She needed to tell Isabelle something, and from what Charlie had told her, she wouldn't take the news well. Which is one reason why she chose to take the Hogwarts Express; it gave her more time to get up her nerve. Time flew by as they crossed into France. About a half hour before their station, Fleur cleared her throat nervously.
"Isabelle?"
"Hmm?" She looked up from her magazine.
"Charlie's going to pick us up at the station," she began.
"Ok. If you need space, I'll just head to the hotel."
"No, it's not that. It's, well, his best man is going to be with him."
"Oh, good. It'll be nice to meet whoever I'm supposed to walk down the aisle with."
"From what I've heard, you've met each other." Fleur closed her eyes, gathered up all her courage, and took a deep breath. "It's Bill."
"Bill?" Isabelle said sharply, eyes spitting fire.
"He told Charlie he was looking forward to seeing you again," she said in a small voice, hoping to calm Isabelle down. It didn't work.
"Well, the feeling's not mutual."
She stormed out of the compartment, slamming the door to take a walk. Well, that went well, Fleur thought despondently.
The train came to a stop at the main train station in Nice. Fleur picked up her cloak and carry-on bag, and walked out into the hallway. She passed by Isabelle, giving her a look. They exited the train, where two redheaded men were waiting on the platform.
Isabelle did a double take. That was Bill? She couldn't believe the change in his appearance since Hogwarts – he actually lost the nerd look and was, well, attractive. For Bill, anyway. She walked right past him to fetch her bag from inside the station without giving him a second look. He followed her and picked up the suitcase out of her hand.
"Hi, Dungeon Girl," he said quietly. She turned around with wounded, angry eyes.
"Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat (May the cat eat you and the devil eat the cat)," she swore, spitting on his dragonhide boot. She muscled past him and exited the station, where Fleur and Charlie were still greeting each other.
"Isabelle, please don't be like this. We need to talk."
"Talk? I think we got everything out in the open quite a long time ago, don't you?"
"Oh, come on. What was I supposed to think?"
"Wasn't it you who told me that I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself and start living?" she pointed out.
"Living, yes. Hooking up with every guy imaginable, no. You were worse than Ali, Sydney and Tabitha put together."
"Wrong. Ok, I admit that was with Andrew, but no one else. Well, except for that one time with Ian, but that was just because – well, you know why." She paused, looking at his skeptical face. "See, you still don't believe me, your own best mate. Do you know how much that hurts? And, how much it hurts that you never tried to contact me since July?"
"I didn't know what to say. I still don't, except that when I thought that you died, a big part of me died with you. All I could think about was our stupid fight, and how I just should've kept my big nose out of your business."
"Yeah, you should've," she agreed.
"I'm sorry Isabelle, for everything."
"Oh, me too." She hugged him tightly, and looked over at Charlie and Fleur, who were still oblivious to the rest of humanity. "Well, Superman, what do you say to finding a decent restaurant around here?"
"Sure. Never dined with an actual Countess before," he replied in an overly snobby voice. She playfully smacked him on the head, as they left the station. It was just like old times, Isabelle thought happily. She smiled at Bill, who was thinking the same thing.
-----
Ginny hopped off the train first, scanning the platform for Bill. Only she knew that he and Isabelle were once friends, and why they stopped talking to each other. And, that for the past week, they've been thrown together to help with the wedding. She had nervously paced the train compartment the whole ride, which drove Harry nuts."Ooh-la-la," Fred muttered under his breath, as a gorgeous brunette walked by.
"Oh, grow up, Fred," she snapped, still looking for any sign of her brother, hoping he was still in one piece.
"What? I'm just appreciating other cultures," he said innocently.
"Right. Where's Bill?" She wrung her hands nervously.
"At Fleur's parents' house, putting up decorations," Ron replied, holding up a letter. "We're supposed to meet them there. The only problem is that the directions are in French."
"Um, do any of you speak French?" George asked. Everyone shook their heads.
"Great," Harry said, looking at the tiny handwriting.
"Well, what do we do?" Fred asked.
"Maybe one of the people in the station can translate this for us," Ginny suggested.
She and Harry walked into the station, and walked right back out again a minute later, with angry looks on our faces.
"Not only were they rude to us," Ginny huffed, "no one in there speaks fluent English! Not well enough to translate these directions, anyway. How is that possible? This is Nice, not Siberia! This is absolutely ridiculous."
"You're cute when you're mad," Harry joked. He thought steam was going to rise from her ears any second, which didn't bother him. Her face was nearly as red as her hair.
"Calm down, sis. All we need to do is catch a cab," George pointed out.
"There's no address listed on this letter!" Ginny screamed. "And, even if there was, how would we know the difference! We're stranded."
"We're not stranded. We're just stuck for a few hours," Ron said.
"What are you talking about?"
"Harry, aren't Hermione and Sirius supposed to get here on the next train?" Ron asked.
"Good point," he answered. Fred, George and Ginny looked hopelessly confused. "Both of them speak fluent French, so if we just hang out here until the next train gets in, we can all go together."
"Professor Black speaks French?" Fred asked.
"Yeah, apparently he and Remus learned it to impress girls from Beauxbatons back in the day." Harry shrugged.
"Why didn't you ride the train with your girl?" George teased Ron.
"First off," he snapped, "she's not my girl. Second, they're doing some kind of bonding thing."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "For your information, today would've been Hermione's parents' wedding anniversary. She wanted to see where they got married, so they went to Dover."
"What? I've never even been there," Harry said, slightly hurt.
"Talk to your aunt about it," Ron said, pointing.
Isabelle was walking towards them with Bill, both laughing at the angry looks on the children's faces. At least, Harry thought that it was his aunt. She looked gorgeous, far prettier and stylish than anyone he'd ever seen before, even on television.
For once, she had her hair down, and charmed it so that it fell to the middle of her back in loose waves. And her outfit looked like something straight out of one of Ginny's fashion magazines. Which, he thought, it probably was. He reminded himself that Isabelle grew up in a completely different world than he did, and it showed.
Every guy at the station stopped dead in their tracks and stared at her, including George, Fred and Ron. Completely oblivious, she kept walking down the platform, lost in conversation with Bill.
"I guess they made up," Ginny muttered under her breath.
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, snapping out of his trance. "Are you saying they know each other?"
Ginny sighed. It was time to tell Harry the truth, and she would rather it come from her than from someone else. "They were best mates at Hogwarts. Bill was a year ahead of Professor Evans, and was a sort of big brother to her. But, they had a huge fight right before, well, the attack on your family. Until last week, they haven't talked to each other in almost fifteen years."
"How do you know?" Fred snorted.
"Because Bill used to tell me about it growing up," she said quietly. Harry turned to her with wounded eyes, just like she knew he would.
"You knew, you knew, I had other family, and you didn't tell me?" he asked, upset. "Did any of you know, too?"
They all shook their heads, just as surprised as Harry was. Ginny felt absolutely terrible, as Bill and Isabelle walked up to them.
"You know each other?" Harry asked them.
"Well, hello to you, too," Isabelle joked. "Yes, I claim this git sometimes."
"Likewise," Bill replied sarcastically.
"I take it that y'all had a hard time reading my directions?"
"Just a little bit," Fred said.
"Ok, I haven't said anything all week, but what's up with the accent? You're talking like you're in slow motion. It's the weirdest accent I've ever heard," Bill complained to Isabelle.
"Alright," she said in a flawless English accent, "is this better?"
"Thank you. You sound human again." She stuck out her tongue at Bill.
"Where are Sirius and Hermione? Weren't they supposed to be on the same train with you?" Isabelle asked, looking around the platform.
Harry was thrown for a minute by her accent. "No, they're in Dover."
"Dover."
She suddenly remembered the date, and felt like someone had knocked the wind out of her. Bill saw the look on her face, knowing immediately that something was horribly wrong.
"Come on," he told everyone. "The car's parked right beside the platform."
Isabelle began walking slowly, dazed. She looked at Bill. "Some things just never change, do they?"
"What do you mean?"
"I completely forgot that today would've been Sirius and Regina's eighteenth wedding anniversary." She sighed helplessly.
"You're still in love with him."
"Until the day I die. And he's still in love with her, apparently. Didn't I tell you all those years ago that this would happen?"
Bill put his arm around her. Sirius Black has always had some mystical power over Isabelle, he thought. No, some things never change.
-----
Ginny shifted nervously on the car seat as Isabelle drove through the beautiful city. Everyone chatted around her, except for she and Harry, who sat in stony silence. It seemed like forever before the car pulled up at an impressive French chateau. Harry bolted out, and stormed inside without looking at anyone."Harry," she called out. He completely ignored her. "Harry, wait a minute. Can we talk?"
"Why start now?"
Despite her own rising temper, she pulled him into a small study and shut the door.
"That wasn't fair, Harry."
"And, it's so fair that you kept the fact that I had other family from me?"
That did it. "Now you listen here, Harry Potter. I'm sick and tired of your little victim routine. So what, you have more family. And, I just happened to know about them, so that makes me the villain? I don't think so. Has it ever occurred to you that you could've researched your family a little? Hermione and I looked through the Daily Prophet archives last week. The amount of press on your family is incredible. If you had ever bothered to look your family up, you would have found out a lot of things. Including that you had an aunt named Isabelle Evans."
Harry sat down on the couch, and put his head in his hands. Ginny had a point – a very good point. Why hadn't he ever bothered to research his own family? Suddenly, he felt horrible. He looked up.
"I'm sorry, Virginia. You're right."
"Which makes you?"
He stared at her. She crossed her arms and glared back. "Wrong, ok? Happy?"
"Ecstatic. Why do you insist on calling me by my full name?" she said, exasperated.
"Because it irritates you. I told you that you're cute when you're mad."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Why do I put up with you, anyway?"
"Because I'm irresistible. That, and I help you with your Charms homework."
"Yeah, you are charming," she joked, as they walked down the hallway to find everyone else.
-----
"Desmond has a barrow in the market place," Isabelle sang, stringing up lights around the enormous ballroom."Molly is the singer in a band," Ginny added.
"Desmond says to Molly -- girl I like your face. And Molly says this as she takes him by the hand," they sang together.
"Ok, everyone," Isabelle shouted.
"Ob-la-di ob-la-da life goes on la, La-la how the life goes on. Ob-la-di ob-la-da life goes on la, La-la how the life goes on," everyone else sang loudly and slightly off key, laughing.
Following the noise, Sirius and Hermione managed to find the ballroom after wandering around the estate for at least ten minutes. Both stopped and stared at the sight in front of them.
Isabelle was sitting on Bill's shoulders, stringing up lights around the ceiling, singing away. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. All day, all he could think of is how much he missed being around her all week, and how he was looking forward to seeing her. Especially after wandering around the grounds of the old Evans estate, which brought back so many memories.
During the train ride from Dover to Nice, he finally came to terms with a great deal of his own past. He desperately wanted to vent to Isabelle, but there she was, having the time of her life. Why didn't I remember that she and Bill used to be close? he lamented. Or that she loves the Beatles?
Close wasn't the word, he thought bitterly. The fact that she looked absolutely stunning didn't help matters any. Being with her suddenly seemed like an impossible dream.
Isabelle looked down, and saw the shattered look on Sirius' face. Of course all of this wedding business would be painful for him, she realized. Especially since he's still in love with Regina. Her face fell. Bill was right – she just needed to get over him once and for all, and get on with her life. Because it was obvious there was no room in Sirius' life, or heart, for her.
-----
The morning sun shined down on the grounds of Fleur's parents' home, promising a perfect day for the wedding. Isabelle spent the morning running last-minute errands, making sure the men were set, and calming down a nervous bride. Finally, it was time to begin the wedding. She discreetly walked across the lawn, and stood off to one side of the guests.Ever since she taught Fleur ballet many years ago, her mother always wanted Isabelle to sing "Sunrise, Sunset" as the mothers walked down the aisle to be seated. The entire wedding party thought this was a fabulous idea, so a reluctant Isabelle agreed to sing. She took a deep breath, and began.
Is this the little girl I carried?
Is this the little boy at play?
I don't remember growing older
When did they?
When did she get to be a beauty?
When did he grow to be so tall?
Wasn't it yesterday when they were small?
Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Quickly fly the days
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
Blossoming even as we gaze
Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Quickly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears
Like the majority of the guests, Hermione teared up and reached for a tissue as Isabelle finished the song. Harry looked at her and rolled his eyes. He leaned over to make a snide comment, but Ginny walked down the aisle, which completely distracted him. Not that he minded; actually he was grateful for the distraction because the warm sun was making him terribly sleepy. By the time the wedding was over, Hermione had to pinch him twice to keep him awake.
The guests slowly walked into the estate for the reception in the ballroom. Nervous about impressing her wealthy in-laws, Molly Weasley told her children that if they even thought about pulling a prank, it would be the last thing they ever did. And, they all believed her. Grumbling about the lack of fun at the reception, they ate and danced respectably, which surprised everyone.
Isabelle scanned the room, avoiding old acquaintances from her days with her husband's ballet company. She wanted today to be a happy one, and answering questions about her contested divorce would spoil her mood.
"Can I have a dance?"
She jumped and turned around. "You scared me!"
"I'm just a scary guy." Sirius shrugged. "So, how about it?"
"Sure. Hey, hold still for a minute."
"Why?"
"You have something in your hair." After a second, she laughed softly. "You have a grey hair."
"Guess it's my old age creeping up on me," he said sardonically.
"Guess so."
"Is that how you think of me, as an old, broken down man?" he said jokingly, although he was completely serious. She looked at him with a puzzled frown.
"Of course not. What gave you that idea?"
He didn't answer her, so they danced quietly for a few minutes.
"Isabelle?"
"Hmm?"
"You sang beautifully today."
"Oh, thank you." She looked at him, beaming.
"The song is so true," Sirius mused. "I remember teaching you to dance when you were a little girl. Doesn't seem like it was that long ago."
"Do you still see me as that little girl?" she asked softly.
"No." Anything but, he thought, as she laid her head on his shoulder.
"Are you doing anything for the Easter holidays?"
"Other than dropping off Hermione at the Grangers', no. I'll need a week to recover from spending the afternoon over there. They're nice people, but I've never met a more boring couple in my entire life. Hey, would you like to come with me?"
Isabelle snorted. "Much as I would hate to miss the fun, I can't. I'm going on holiday."
"Oh?"
"Yes, Bill and I leave tomorrow morning."
Sirius was hurt, although he wasn't surprised. They seemed to be quite close all weekend, from what he could see. But, the idea of Isabelle going somewhere with Bill for the entire holidays put him in a jealous rage. Which was ridiculous, he told himself, because there was nothing he could do about it. She didn't want him, and that was final.
-----
Sirius felt like a caged animal, stuck between his imagination working overtime over Isabelle's holiday and the two giggling teenage girls sitting across from him. Hermione invited Ginny to come with her to her parents' house, and they were spending the trip laughing over some magazine full of cute boys. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea where Isabelle went."Ginny?"
"Yes?"
"Do you know where Isabelle and Bill went on holiday?"
Ginny looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean? Bill went back to work today."
"What? Isabelle said she was leaving with him to go on holiday."
"No, she told me she was going on holiday by herself," Hermione interrupted.
"Do what?" Sirius was confused. "Do you know where she went?"
"The only place she can really sit and think in peace. That's all she told me, and trust me, I tried to get details," she replied. "That's when she told me she was going on holiday by herself, so that she can get away from nosy prats like me."
"Yeah, but I saw her leave with Bill this morning," Ginny said.
"Maybe they traveled together," Hermione pointed out. "Wasn't Bill taking the train to London to work at that branch of Gringotts' for a while?"
"I think so, but that doesn't make any sense, though. Can't they Apperate wherever they're going?"
"True. The only place where you can't Apperate is on the Hogwarts grounds."
Wrong, Sirius thought, but he didn't bother to correct his daughter. If what they were saying is true, he knew exactly where Isabelle went. But, why would she go there now, especially by herself? That question bothered him for the rest of the day.
-----
Bill casually twirled his spaghetti around his fork, looking across the table at Isabelle. Her entire face was set, as if she had made up her mind about something. She was on a mission, but he didn't know what it was. The look in her determined green eyes was solid steel."Isabelle, why are we in Dover?"
Her focused eyes bore into his. "I'm tired of all this, Bill, and it has to stop."
"What has to stop?"
"This," she clutched her head with her hands, biting her lip, "this all-encompassing love I have for Sirius. The other day in Nice, I realized that I have devoted my entire life to him. And, for what? I built my dreams around the outside hope that he'd love me one day. What did that get me? A broken heart."
"Aren't you being dramatic?"
"No, and that's the sad part. I wish I were overreacting. I've lived my whole life for him. I danced because that made him proud of me. All those lessons and all that practice – they were the only way I could show my love for him. And, after he went to prison, I devoted endless hours at the law library at William and Mary trying to figure out a way to get him out of prison. When that didn't work, I settled for looking after his daughter from time to time, making sure she was all right." She smiled grimly. "Then, I realized that he wasn't getting out of Azkaban. And, the life I made for myself was the only life I would ever have. I was sick of living in a dream world, so I married Sergei for all the wrong reasons. Yes, he's a psychopathic piece of filth, but I only married him because I was upset that I could never have the man I truly loved."
"Then, he broke out of prison, got acquitted, and here we are," Bill summarized.
"Here we are," Isabelle echoed. "It's the same song, just a different verse. When I heard that Sirius went to Dover, something clicked in my mind. I've been fighting and wallowing in the ghosts of the past for far too long, and it's time to make my peace with everything that happened. And with what can never be."
"Are you sure going your old house will accomplish that?"
"Yes. That old house is the physical embodiment of my past. I need to face those ghosts if they're ever going to stop haunting me. And, I need time to think, to find out who I really am, independent of Sirius. Right now, that doesn't exist, but it needs to. What's that smile?"
"Finally, she has seen the light," he joked, imitating a preacher. They laughed.
"Well, I had a lot of help along the way," she said with a thankful smile. She stood up from the table. "Wish me luck."
"May the force be with you," he said in a serious tone.
"Bill!" she laughed. "You're awful. Anyway, I'll see you in a week for dinner?"
"As long as you're paying."
She made a face. "Sure, why not. Consider it payment for all the therapy you've given me over the years."
"It's a date, then," he called, as she walked out of the restaurant.
-----
Slightly apprehensive, Isabelle walked down the lane for the first time in almost fifteen years. The stately trees lining the driveway looked almost exactly like they did back then, except that they had grown together, making a canopy that completely shaded the lane.The house loomed in the distance, and she took a deep breath as she drew closer to her childhood home. Before they abandoned the property all those years ago, a Preserving charm was placed on the house to protect it from decay. So, it stood in all its grandeur as if it was just patiently waiting for its owners to come home.
She walked up the stairs, and opened the door. It creaked on its hinges, and stuck completely when it was opened halfway. So much for Preserving charms, she thought. Stale air whipped past her, causing her to cough and gag. Holding her nose, she threw open the windows, letting in the cool spring air. She took a few deep breaths before exploring the rest of the house.
The stairs groaned and whined underneath her feet as she climbed to the second floor. Enchanted, she walked into each bedroom, opening the windows and charming away the dust. It truly was like stepping into the past, especially when she went into the nursery. She smiled, and walked down the back staircase to the kitchen.
By this time, some of the fresh air from the living room flowed into the rest of the first floor, so the stale stench wasn't as enveloping. She opened the empty cabinets, glad that she had just eaten. A trip to the grocery store was definitely in order, she decided, freshening up the room with a careless flick of her hand.
Satisfied that the house was in order and clean, she walked onto the back veranda. The setting sun gave the grounds an unearthly glow. She swallowed nervously. There was only one place where she could begin to get over Sirius. With faltering, hesitant footsteps, she crossed the lawn to battle the ghosts of the past.