Chapter 5: Tears

Meara,

Just wanted to make sure you were ok. Things are fine here, just a bit hectic. Of course who should come by and say hi but our darling family and Mr. Harry Potter? The day after you leave, love, there they were on our doorstep. Wonderful, isn't it?

Mum asked after you. She really wanted to meet you and was slightly put out that you were in NYC with your own mother. That's ok; she's having everyone to Christmas. If you're back in time, you can meet my family then. If not, I can safely flirt with the girl down at the paper shop. I know you hate it when I do that, but I have to flirt with someone!

I was going through some of the stuff you left here. Found this pen, obviously. I never thought pink was your color. I also found a bunch of old records. Fred and I have been listening to them, trying to decide if we can do anything with them. I think we can, eventually. Give us enough time.

Anyway, one of the songs reminded me of you. Here's a few of the lyrics, just to make sure you know what song it is:

I can't see no reason to put up a fight

I'm livin' for givin' the devil his due

And I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you

I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you

Love you, babe. Can't wait to see you again. Write me as soon as you can, so I know you're safe.

-George

It was one of the last warm days of the year. A breeze blew through Meara's hair as she strolled down the path in Central Park. A few kids played with a Frisbee on one of the many wide expanses of lawn. The trees moved gently, their slightly tinted leaves waving at Meara as she pondered the contents of her heart. With George's letter had come a rush of emotion and Meara didn't want to cry. Not now, when things were so difficult with her mother.

She couldn't pretend that she didn't catch Sophia's many hints that she needed to stay in New York. The band had a few gigs already, and Meara fully planned on making the most of this opportunity. However, with George unable to leave the shop and therefore, England, she knew where she needed to be: at home with him.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the tall buildings of the Manhattan skyline but Meara refused to go home. She still had some thinking to do. Finding a bench along the path, she sat down and put her head in her hands. She could just picture George and his brother standing in the shop, waving fanatically at the passing children and trying to corrupt them with their magnificent pranks. She remembered the feel of George's copper locks between her fingers and the spark that was always in his brown eyes. His freakled face hovered in front of her eyes as she silently poured tears out of her pale green orbs. How she missed him! She wanted nothing more than to be with him for the rest of her life. This Voldemort… He wanted to take that all from them. The Dark Lord didn't want a muggle-born American witch and a pure-blooded blood-traitor together, especially when both had some sort of standing in the community. He didn't even want them alive. The tears were coming faster now. What would she do? She loved her mother dearly; for many years, it was just Sophia and Meara. No men, just women enjoying themselves, dancing around the apartment to various muggle bands. She felt a loyalty towards her mother stronger than many bonds.

On the other hand, she had George and her future to think about. She knew and loved people in England, people who were just as like family. She couldn't imagine asking George to leave England for safer New York just as she couldn't imagine asking her mother to leave what she's always known for something completely foreign. She was torn between her two loves: her mother and her boyfriend. How would she ever become whole again?

It was long after dark before Meara made her way home. She hadn't figured out what to do, though. It would take more than a walk in the park to do that.