Happy holidays, chickadees.

"Where've you been?" George sounded as if he were trapped between angrier than ever before, and more relieved than he thought possible.

"Didn't Angelina tell you?" Alica answered, walking through the door into the flat. She looked as tired as she felt, smiling a little, but not enough to look happy. It was more of that happiness that only comes with unwanted questions being answered, no matter how bad the question was.

"You didn't really go to Azkaban!"

"I did, and if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go scrub all the grime, filth, and insanity off my body in the shower."

George stood there, dumbstruck, as she walked into the bathroom. He slowly gained his wits about him as he heard the water running, and by the time Alicia stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in her dark blue bathrobe and pink from the hot water, he was just about at a normal place mentally.

"Where are you going now?" he asked as she shuffled past him, smelling strongly of lilacs.

"To my typewriter."

"To write all night, again?"

"More than likely."

"Alicia," George said, taking her arm in his hands, his voice full of earnast concern. "This needs to stop. This obsession with Katie isn't healthy! I miss her too, and I wish I knew where she was, but you're obsessed! It's getting scary! You can't keep doing this to yourself!"
"Doing what?" Alicia's voice was shaky as she waited for the answer.

"Leaving out of nowhere, reading Katie's diary, stealing her cat! It's not right!"

"Would it better to just forget her? Act as if I never knew her?" her voice got shakier. "Would you prefer it if I quit acting as if I ever knew her, just like I did when I graduated? Just like you did when you left! Do you like that better? Out of sight, out of mind?" tears were falling now.
"What are you talking about?"

"We abandoned her! When we all left, she had no more friends! And she had all these secrets, and all these problems, and by the time she was old enough to talk to one of us about it, we were gone!" Alicia sobbed.

George didn't argue, he just took the sobbing girl in his arms, and gently rocked her.

"Okay, 'Lic, you go to your typewriter and keep doing whatever you need to know. I've grown to love Celia as if she were my own, anyways." he whispered, suddenly feeling the same pangs of guilt that Alicia had been suffering through alone.

"It's not your fault," he cooed, "you know that right? That it has never been your job to save anyone?"

Alicia nodded, but didn't feel much better. All her life she had been considered a bit of a pushover everywhere but the quidditch field, and now she felt as is if she hadn't just let Katie down but everyone else for not being what they expected her to be.

"You're going to go type, aren't you?" George asked after a moment, releasing Alicia.

She nodded shyly, wiping away tears. "And I'd appreciate a bit of support..."

"I've learned, there's no stopping you." he gave her a small smile and let her go.

Alicia typed with a fury that night. She typed so fast that her words were riddled with typos, but still readable so she didn't care. She wrote about Azkaban. She wrote how she could smell the misery in the air as she walked to see her friends mother. She wrote about how Gus stayed happy in the most unlikely of places. She poured everything out when she wrote about Katie's heritage.

A grandmother who drank herself to death under the watchful eyes of her children. A great grandmother who just got up and left everything and everyone. A mother who lost her mind and was yet to realize. It could have driven anyone insane.

It could drive a person with her own daughter at fourteen even crazier. The really insane part, at least to Alicia, was that at school, no one would have any idea that all of this had gone on with the perfectly normal Katie Bell.

Alicia went to bed earlier that night then she had been the past few nights, under the request of George. He would have shown his appreciation if it weren't for the fact that he had conked out while Alicia was still typing away.

Almost like her body's way of spiting her, Alicia woke up earlier than necessary the next morning. After rolling over more times than anyone should, Alicia gave in and got out of bed.

Celia was sitting on the kitchen table when Alicia went in for breakfast, staring her down, as if Celia knew that pretty soon they'd have a brawl over the table.

"Sit where you like, I don't care." Alicia told the cat as she leaned against the counter to enjoy her toast. Celia continued her staring, just in case.

After a few restless moments, Alicia cracked and went back to Katie's diary. This time, instead of just going back to the page she had left off, she flipped through. The diary was surprisingly thick and Alicia still had a ways to go. She kept flipping, until something fell out. Alicia picked it up, taking a closer look.

It was a small envelope, magically filled with tons of photographs. It didn't take much examing to figure out that each and every photo was of Kamryn. From her first photograph, to a fairly recent school photo. Each one worn around the edges, some more than others, from being looked at so much.

Alicia put the pictures back, her hands shaking a bit, and went back to reading the diary.

For the first time, the diary started giving details about the years spent in foster care. The house was described as "the pink sore thumb on an already nasty hand." The more the neighborhood was described, the more familiar it became.

"I used to live in the flats right by there!" Alicia exclaimed Celia, who still sat on the table. Her ears went back with alert, and she narrowed her eyes. The table was officially lost to the cat.

"Okay, I can't leave you alone. I get it. Now will you stop talking to the cat?" a very groggy George questioned as he stumbled into the kitchen where Alicia was reading.

"We're not allowed to use the table." Alicia answered, even though it really didn't apply to the question. "Do you remember the flat I lived in before we moved in togehter?" she suddenly asked, her eyes full of interest.

"Hard to forget. Dodgiest side of town. You should have made the rats pay rent." George snorted.

"Har har. It wasn't that bad, and you know it."

"And what was the reason you finally moved out?"

"To move in with you!"
"And...?"

"And a wall might have fallen down."

"See? Dodgy."

"Anyways," Alicia started again, "do you remember the houses that weren't far from there?"
"The ones that were dodgier than your flat?"

"Yes."

"What about them?"
"I'm going there today."

George paused for a moment, pouring himself a cup of coffee before turning back around.

"And there's no way ot talk you out of this."

"Is there ever?"

"Well, I appreciate being told where you're going for once."
"I told you when I was going to Azkaban!"

"Just carry some ID."

"Why?"
"Because when you're killed, it'll make it easier to identify your body." George finished with an affectionate kiss on the forehead.