a/n won't let me skip lines, so any lines of random text are there for a reason. they serve as transitions, see?? yes?? good.

oh, and i don't own ron or any other characters (except Celeste, George, and Gwen). they're from the mind of JK Rowling...yadayada...

Ch 2: Such a sweet girl.

Gwen only half listened as Mrs. Wood excitedly took her to get fit for her new robes. Even though there were only first years here, she nearly blended in. I'd throw away half the Galleons in my bank account to tower over somebody, she thought, looking down.

Ever since Celeste- mummy- she corrected herself- ever since mummy had told her she'd be moving in with Oliver, the headaches had gotten worse, the nightmares more vivid. Of course, He couldn't just leave her alone, that was too much for Him. And now she had to attend a different school her last two years because –Mummy and Da—wanted to go dragon hunting. I don't care if it's their bloody job. If they wanted me to go to Hogwarts, they should have put me there in the first bloody place. And there was something He liked about Hogwarts, something that sent His- and subsequently, her own- pace racing. Something He wanted.

Damn him if he's going to get it, too.

"-dear?" The seamstress looked slightly irritated.

"Hmm?" Gwen's head whipped forward, the train of thought stopped.

"I said, can you turn a little to the left, dear?"

"Oh." Automatically, Gwen shifted her body weight.

Where had Sandra gone? Without moving, Gwen tried to scan the room. The seamstress chuckled.

"Your aunt's gone book shopping. Something about you otherwise wanting all the books in the shop. She thought it was best," She talked perfectly around the needles- something she probably had practice doing. "Kind of weird, transferring from Beauxbatons to Hogwarts, hmm? No worries, dear. You'll make friends aplenty. I remember- six years ago- fitting the first years. Your class is an interesting one." With a cluck of approval, she removed the pins. "Come back in half an hour, now." Waving, she ushered Gwen out of the shop. "Have some ice cream. Tell them who sent you."

'Interesting?' What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Sighing, Gwen turned in the direction of the bookshop. The seamstress had definitely been right about one thing, though. If Gwen had been allowed to do the book shopping- especially on her own- she would probably spend a sum uncharacteristic to her frugal self. There was just something about books- so deep, so inviting, like a pool on the hottest day of summer-

Hello.

Damn him! Gwen thought. Coming, here and now, of all places.

Really, now, you don't mean that, do you? I've sensed an inner docility, as well as COMMON SENSE, about you for a very long time. It's why I spared you in the first place. That, and the fact I can't allow the family line to whither away, can I? Are you really going to defy me?

"No," Gwen whispered, closing her eyes. This was how it always ended. He the victor, and she-

Whipped into submission.

BG:DJG:"DJFGS"F"X

"No way!" Ron stood up suddenly, forgetting completely about any injury to his head. "She's moved- and here- is she?"

"Yes, she's going to Hogwarts, and a sixth year at that. Don't force me to roll my eyes again," Wood drawled, finding himself compelled to do so anyway. "Good God, mate. With your excitement, you'd think –oh, I don't know- you'd actually MET her or something."

Sitting back down, Ron felt his pulse racing. Could he help it? Those eyes, that face, the obviously small frame- she seemed delicate in a way- made him react in a way that was embarrassing, he thought, not daring to look down at the main source or reaction. Bloody hell, and right in front of Oliver too...

Especially considering this was a picture, Ron realized, feeling the Hermione voice of reason creeping up on him again. Only a bloody picture.

"Hmm," Ron said, pretending sudden indifference. "Sorry, it's the coincidence. And, well, she IS hot, you have to admit that."

"Freely," Oliver said. "And I say this in the most brotherly sense, since I have grown up with her."

"Yeah, I know," Ron looked down. "Same way with me and Herm- oh, bloody hell!" His eyes shot open wide. "Is it past noon?"

"Almost one," Oliver looked at the hourglass.

Abruptly Ron left, leaving a surprised Oliver to his own ruminations--muttering something about Hermione, Gringotts, and being late past any chance of survival.

"I'll never get that kid," Oliver whispered, chuckling to himself.

JLFBesdnfhkdn,ksxIPERFIX

Aunt Sandy, I'm tired.

"Aunt Sandy?" Gwen croaked. The words wanted to die, wanted to sink away in defense of her mind. But the lips would not stop.

"Hmm?" Sandy looked up from The Daily Prophet. The two women were traveling the London Underground, half an hour from the Wood home.

"I'm tired..."

I think I'll take a nap.

"I think I'll take a nap." Somewhere inside Gwen simultaneously snorted and sighed, nearly disgusted at the lack of resistance but too weary to do anything about it.

Very good. You're beginning to learn.

Part of her wanted to scream, to cry out. What the fuck are you doing? It whispered, squeaking the last of its life force out. You've resisted for so long...and when you give a moment, he takes eons. Stop this now.

The pain...a weaker voice cried. I cannot...I cannot...

"I cannot..." she whispered, sinking into oblivion. Immediately, the limp body leaned on Mrs. Wood, who shifted her shoulder and smiled.

"Such a sweet girl," she said aloud to nobody in particular