A/N - After some really bizarre glitches with the updating tool (anyone noticed them too? No spaces in bold and italics upon uploading chapters, parts of sentences missing...), I give you a new chapter. I apologize for the long delay but the admission process to grad school was really exhausting though, as of a few hours ago, I'm officially a grad student! Classes start next week, so wish me luck.
Anyway, this is a chapter mostly from Izzy's POV. I hope you like it since it's really long with 10k+ words... I'm nuts, yes.
Note: There are references (though no intentional quoting aside from a sentence from a Daily prophet Article) from Chapter 11: The Bribe of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
20 August 1997
Nearly three weeks passed since the Ministry had fallen to the Death Eaters and no news came… or at least not the ones anyone inGrimmauld Placewas the most anxious for.
In a way, that wasn't a particularly awful thing on itself, Izzy thought from time to time, more often than not trying to convince herself of it. Logic dictated that the first thing the Death Eaters would do if they ever got their hands on Harry would be shouting it out loud to the skies so the whole world could hear about their victory. And, since the only mentions of her brother in the news for the past weeks had either involved articles trying to solidify his new condition as the 'crazed and dangerous Undesirable No.1'or publicizing the increasing bounties on his head, it was pretty clear they were nowhere closer to finding him than they'd ever been before.
So, Izzy asked herself, when logic was so perfectly… logical, why did the human mind ever so stupidly insist on ignoring it for the sake of slowly cooking in a pool of simmering anxiety? She supposed that was up for the mind healers to figure out…
Regardless of what experts might have to say, in the midst of that constant shadow of worrying, they'd fallen into what she would classify as an isolation-based routine. She'd wake up and come down to breakfast only to find her mother scanning every single inch of the Daily Prophet for a little clue of what Harry might be up to. Later, her father would come down too and scan the papers some more, rarely finding any sign of Harry's potential doing between all the incident reports – and, then, to lift up the moods in the room, he'd find some less horrifying article to crack a bunch of jokes about, such as Dolores Umbridge's surprising appointment as the Head of the Muggle-Born Registration Comission a few days before ("Wonder how she'll manage to serve as a head to anything when the blokes at St. Mungo's are convinced she's left hers at the Forbidden Forest after that little centaur incident last year…" Sirius had pointed out that time).
Afternoons tended to vary a little but not much, as they seemed to be predominantly stuck inside the house. Truth was, they didn't really have many reason to leave it, anyway… The Weasleys remained 'unvisitable' due to the Burrow's new set of blood-based wards, which, while very powerful, seemed to lock out everyone not directly related to their casters, Arthur and Molly (a fact that the couple was incessantly trying to find a way around since, unpleasantly enough, not only did make their friends and allies unable to step into Weasley property, but also members of the family lacking in Weasley blood, such as the newly married Fleur Delacour…).
At the same time, circulating around public places, Wizarding or Muggle, was becoming increasingly dangerous as the number of 'mysterious disappearances', especially among opponents of the new regime (as well as their families), kept spiking, which made the simple act of paying a visit to the local playground an equivalent to scouting enemy territory – something had to be very wrong with the world when, last time they'd left the house, all Izzy could focus on while she watched her father pushing Alex on the swings were the facts that his eyes never stopped darting everywhere in suspicion and that he always kept a hand in his pocket, no doubt clutching his wand in it just in case. Even she, who knew she wasn't supposed to do magic outside of school, had been nervously gripping her own wand that day while sitting with her mother and baby sister on a park bench, not quite enjoying the feeling of being outdoors as much as she should have.
To put it simple, Izzy could see herself being slowly driven mad by that routine, since nowadays being inside or out were starting to become equally unpleasant scenarios. And what sucked the most was that there wasn't really a third option… At least, she thought, in a handful of days she'd be headed to Hogwarts and, although prospects of the school year ahead of her was essentially a giant question mark, she'd have her friends around over there – that was bound to create a more pleasant routine.
But, in what came to routines, that day's had, for once, been different in many ways. And not particularly in a good way. It started with her mother, as well as the newspaper, being missing from the breakfast table, where Izzy had solidly found them every morning for the past three weeks whenever she came down to the kitchen at that time of the day. Kreacher had also been out of sight that morning, the only sign of his presence being the recently cooked breakfast food resting on the kitchen counter… but then again, that wasn't all that odd since he'd been pulling a lot of disappearing acts in the past few weeks – Izzy supposed he was depressed over not having Harry around or something although, whenever she asked, he'd always insist she shouldn't worry about him.
Kreacher's disappearances aside, she might have let her mother's odd behaviour slide if her father, at least, had showed up by the time she was almost finishing her plate, as he always did. But he didn't – none of them did. By the time they did come down, and only after her younger siblings had cried bloody murder over their parents' apparent disrespect for their own routines, they had acted even more oddly, looking awfully tense and constantly avoiding answering her questions concerning what was going on. The newspaper remained missing and Izzy figured it probably wasn't a coincidence. Something had happened.
Maybe Harry had been spotted somewhere – surely if he'd been caught, she'd know it already. She had no doubt her parents would have shown a much more alarming behaviour if something that bad had happened. And, following that train of thought, she deemed it safe to assume that whatever was going on didn't involve anyone particularly close to them being killed or captured. Okay, she thought. Whatever it was, it wasn't good news… but at least it couldn't be the worst either. She was sure she could handle that… so why the hell were her parents being so annoyingly secretive?
Through the rest of the morning, she asked more questions and received more excuses in return, ranging from Mary needing a sudden and completely random diaper change to her father all of a sudden 'hearing' her mother calling his name from wherever she was at the moment – a call Izzy sure as hell hadn't heard.
After lunch, by the time the clock had hit three and her parents had gone back to their room in order to, for all she knew, resume discussing the mystery matter, she was fuming. They were hiding something from her. Specifically from her, she was sure, ignoring how paranoid that thought sounded. It made sense for her at the time. And, as if it wasn't bad enough that they were all secretive, they weren't even doing a good job of hiding it! Honestly, it was simply insulting…
Pacing in the house's living room with her arms crossed against her chest in frustration, she decided she'd had enough. She was going upstairs, she was marching into her parents' room and she was asking what was going on. She wouldn't give them the chance to come up with any excuse that time – did they think she was five? Because only a kid that young would be fooled by the excuses they came up with. For all that was worth, she wasn't a little kid anymore. She didn't need to be coddled and protected from the harsh reality out there, even though everyone seemed to think so, she thought, her mind drifting momentarily to a certain redheaded person she was still kind of annoyed at.
Shaking her head for a moment and making herself concentrate in the matter at hand, she took a breath and headed to the door. She'd pick a fight if that was what it took for her parents to tell her what was going on – she didn't like it but she wouldn't put that possibility past her. Despite being far from the standard goody rule-follower, she'd never really been one to just cause trouble for the sake of doing so either.
She climbed the stairs quickly, only making an effort to do so more quietly as she approached her parent's floor, as well as the rooms where Alex and Mary would be napping in at that time of the day. Yet, just as she spotted her parents' door, she noted that, not only it wasn't fully closed but also they seemed to have forgotten to activate a silencing charm as she could clearly hear their voices. She didn't even think twice before deciding to overhear the conversation – they'd brought it on themselves, after all, with all that stupid secrecy.
"… give it a day or two at the most before the letters arrive, booting us out. There's no way he'll let me stick around now that he's in charge. Not unless icicles start forming in hell," her father was saying, his voice showing how frustrated he was.
"I'm perfectly aware of that myself, Sirius. And, for the record, he isn't particularly fond of me either. Especially not after our last confrontation," her mother responded in a concerned tone.
They didn't speak for a few seconds after that, although Izzy could clearly hear someone pacing. "Well, we can sum it all up, then, can't we?" Sirius said. "It's safe to say we can count on being kicked to the curb just as soon as the little bastard gets his hands on the Hogwarts seal. This changes everything."
Izzy gulped at that. They were talking about Hogwarts, she concluded. Not bad news about Harry, at least. That was good, although the fact that, from what she could gather, they were convinced they were about to be sacked wasn't all that pleasant. She wondered why, though…
Her mother sighed audibly inside the room. "I know it does. Seems like the world doesn't do anything these days but changing. And not for better. It's like it's turning toxic, isn't it? First the ministry, now Hogwarts… it's supposed to be a safe place, for Merlin's sake! It always was!"
"It isn't anymore. Not with them in there," her father said. "You know what we have to do… it's bad, especially now, but we have to do it…"
"Maybe we should wait to hear what Minerva has to say…"
"Do you really think anything she has to say is going to convince us that handing Izzy over to those creeps anything less than mad? She can't go back to Hogwarts like this!"
She stopped thinking just as soon as she heard those words. "I can't what?" she heard herself saying out loud before she could stop herself, already stepping into her parents' room.
Her father's face immediately turned to her and her mother, who'd been sitting on the bed until then, stood up with a jump.
"Izzy, what do you think you're doing eavesdropping people?" Mia asked, looking at her with a frown.
"You tell me, Mum. This seems to be the only way to get answers around this house. What is this whole madness about? I can't go back to Hogwarts? Why on Earth not?" she asked in disbelief, looking between her mother and father.
None of her parents answered. Instead, her father reached for a folded newspaper resting on the dresser and handed it to her. "See for yourself, love," he told her.
And so she did. As soon as she unfolded the paper and spotted the headline, the conversation between her parents immediately started to make a whole lot more sense.
Severus Snape Appointed as Hogwarts Headmaster
Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several changes at the ancient school.
And that was just the beginning of it, she quickly concluded as she continued reading. The article proceeded to list a series of changes in Hogwarts's staff and admittance process, namely the appointment of Alecto and Amycus Carrow for the positions of Muggle Studies and DADA teachers. Alecto and Amycus Carrow, known Death Eaters of the nastiest sort, teaching Muggle Studies and Defence Against the Dark Arts? There was no way – absolutely no way – that could possibly work out, Izzy thought.
And, as if that wasn't enough, the blasted article went on with stating that attendance was now mandatory to every admissible wizard and witch, a rule that, if broken, carried a punishment of no less than a decade-long stay in Azkaban for the parents of the pupil. Muggle-borns, however, were banished from attending the school.
"This is insane," she said as soon as she finished reading. "What about McGonagall? She's supposed to be the headmistress, not Snape!"
"We're still waiting to hear back from her," Mia replied. "For all we know, she's still part of the staff, or else the article would've probably said something about it."
"How can they possibly name Snape headmaster? He killed Dumbledore! Everyone knows it!"
"Yeah, well, the official version these days is that whatever happened on top of the Astronomy tower that led to Dumbledore's death is still to be determined," Sirius told her. "Still shocked we don't want you over there?"
She pursed her lips together and took a few moments before answering. "I think you're missing the point where attendance is mandatory for everyone who isn't a Muggle-born, which, in case you're somehow forgetting, Dad, I'm not."
Sirius shrugged even though he seemed anything but careless about the matter. "We'll find a way around it."
Izzy looked at him in disbelief. "A way around it? How? By going on the run?" she asked. Her fate was pretty sealed in her mind – she was going to Hogwarts. She had to… oddly enough even wanted to, despite what she'd just learned. The thought of her family ruining any chance at a relatively normal life because of her… there was just no way.
"Honey, we're still forming a plan in our minds," Mia said quietly.
"What plan? You two could be arrested if I don't go! What about Alex and Mary? Do you want them to grow up knowing their parents are locked up in a cage? Because, trust me, knowing that about a parent is bad enough on its own," she said, looking straight at her father as she added that last part.
"They can't toss us in any cage if they don't catch us," her father replied.
"And how do you suggest we make sure that happens, Dad? By confining us solely to this house from now on? You can't do that! It's insane!" she said.
"Insane would be to hand you over to those freaks on a silver platter!" Sirius replied in a louder tone.
"I'd rather have to handle twice as much of them than being the reason why you lose your freedom, either it is to Azkaban or to be confined to this house. You can't turn this place into a prison!" she replied in the same fashion.
"It will be one eventually, anyway! Don't you get it, Izzy? They will come after us sooner or later and when they do, we'll have to hide in here! Probably even use a Fidelius charm! This way, we're just anticipating it a little."
The thought of it made her throat go dry but, even so, she recognized the truth in her father's words – they were a target, as Harry Potter's family. Their freedom wouldn't last long, for sure… and, strangely enough, that only angered her more. "It's not fair! If our freedom's running out, we might as well enjoy it while they let us! How can you expect me to just stay home hiding like some… coward or weakling when Harry's out there facing it all? Ginny and I are supposed to hold the fort at Hogwarts. We, the DA… that's out mission! I can't just stay at home!"
"You can and you will! Do you have any idea how dangerous those people are? The Carrows – they get off on torturing people! What if one day they decide it's time to use you against Harry? You'll be right at their mercy and we won't be around to help you."
"I can help myself! My friends can help me there! What do you think the DA was? Some pastime? We're supposed to protect each other!" she yelled before turning to her mother, hoping for some support. "Mum…"
Mia sighed. "Izzy, it's just too dangerous…"
"It's dangerous to everyone! It's not fair that I stay home when everyone else has to go. It's not fair I back down from the fight when my friends can't! I'm not a weakling, I'm not stupid and, unlike what everyone seems to think, I can handle protecting myself!" She promptly turned to her father with an accusatory look on her face. "If you were in my shoes, you'd go back no matter what!"
"That is not the point!" Sirius told her.
"Oh, so it's 'do what I tell you, not what I'd do' now, Dad?"
Sirius huffed, frustrated that she was right in pointing out the double-standard. But she was his daughter. She was his very first child and the last thing he wanted was to see her getting hurt – if her being really pissed off at him was what it took, so be it. "Yes, that pretty much sums it up, doesn't it?"
She pursed her lips together and gave her father a really furious look, breathing heavily with all the anger running through her veins. For a moment there – Sirius wondered if she was about to scream. But she didn't. Instead, and still looking like she could just murder someone, Izzy turned on her heel and stormed out of the room without a word…
He huffed by the time he could hear her angry steps climbing down the stairs and turned to Mia, who looked anything but pleased. "Don't look at me like that," he said.
"Like what?" his wife dryly replied.
"Like I'm an arse or something," he provided. "Maybe I am one but this time I think I have a right to be – all we're trying to do is to protect her – she's just too stubborn to go along. Trying to talk sense into her to accept is like hitting your head against a wall repeatedly."
Mia nodded slowly. "Yes. It must feel just like fighting with yourself, mustn't it?" she mumbled.
Sirius frowned at her words. "What is that supposed to mean?"
She sighed and shook her head. "Never mind," she said, exasperated as she made her way out the door, hoping to go downstairs and talk some sense into Izzy.
She'd barely just left the room, though, when the loud sound of a heavy door banging incredibly loudly reached her ears, making her freeze.
"What was that?" Sirius asked in alarm, rushing out of the room and walking up to the stairwell's rails, looking down to try and see something.
"I think it was the front door," she barely managed to mumble.
Her husband turned around in alarm. "She wouldn't go out on her own."
Mia gulped. "I think she just did."
She couldn't say she'd planned it – leaving the house had really been a spur of the moment thing. She hadn't been quite sure of where she was headed or even thinking now stupid it was to walk around on her own in a time like that. The only thing she'd known was that if she stayed at home another minute, she would suffocate. Maybe not literally, but still…
And, just as she hadn't planned to leave home, walking around without direction for several minutes, taking enough twists and turns for her parents not to run straight into her when they inevitably started searching hadn't been premeditated either. Same thing with entering the first underground station she'd found and using the Muggle money she'd found in her jeans' pocket (having been left there since the last time they'd left the house to go to the park and her father had insisted she always carried Muggle money around in case they needed to make some quick escape using non-magical means) to ride aimlessly in the first train that came her way.
It was only there, in the middle of all the oblivious commuters and likely in the last place where her parents would look for her, that she actually managed to calm down enough to get herself thinking.
She was just so angry and for so many different reasons! Everyone seemed to see her as some sort of weakling! Her parents, for Merlin's sake, seemed to be so sure of it that they were even willing to risk their freedom just for the sake of keeping her away from a fight she was sure she could handle… And the thought of having to hide away at home for Merlin knew how long – years, maybe! – made her feel sick. Not just because she wanted to be out there to fight but also because she already felt so damn lonely…
She missed her friends. She missed Harry, who was on the run with Ron and Hermione, she missed Ginny, who she hadn't seen since the wedding because she was stuck at her own place, she missed Luna, who… well, she wasn't really sure what Luna was up to but, then again, she was still too out of reach over at Devon when Floo travelling (seeing as the ministry was now keeping track of it) and apparition (far beyond her abilities) weren't an option. Who did that leave, then? Was that what was ahead of her through her forced exile at home? An endless feeling of loneliness? Because she hated it already.
It's war, it's bad for everyone, not just for you, part of her said in her mind. She knew that. She wasn't so selfish that she'd think she was the only victim of the war. Merlin, there were bound to be people in much worse situations, namely all those Muggle-borns being made to register like cattle and treated by the regime even below that level.
It was all war. She hated it, she want it to be over, she wanted to help making it be over, not just sit around and wait for someone else to do that for her. And she sure as hell couldn't do it when everyone wanted to coddle and shield her from the big bad world. No one seemed to understand that but she needed to make them.
Before that, though, she quickly concluded, she needed to find somewhere to go as it finally occurred to her how stupidly dangerous it was for her to walk around on her own in a time when people mysteriously vanished every other day. Before, she'd been too lost in her troubled to care… Not home, though, she quickly decided. She wasn't ready to face her parents again yet, she thought, despite starting to feel a bit guilty when her mind drifted to what they might be thinking or doing at that very same moment. They must be freaking out…
She shook her head, unable to deal with that too yet. She needed to find somewhere to go and maybe let her parents know she was fine just for the sake of sparing them. The problem was that, as she'd already established, her usual go-to people were very much out of reach with Harry on the run and the Weasleys miles aw… She stopped herself. Not all the Weasleys.
It was odd how often she forgot that, despite being Weasleys, Fred and George didn't live at the Burrow anymore, but instead in some apartment over their joke shop. And, being in Diagon Alley, that definitely put them within reach.
Despite that fact, she felt reluctant to go to them at fist since she was supposed to still be annoyed at George over his little knight-in-shining armour stunt at the wedding and her weird romantic feelings about him were still a bit… confusing, to say the least. On the other hand, she didn't have any other choice. It seemed the decision had made itself.
Looking up at the underground diagram over the train's door and recognizing the name of the station she recalled having spotted more than once near the Leaky Cauldron's entrance on Charing Cross Road, she was glad to conclude she was in the right line although, after a few minutes, she figured she'd apparently taken the train headed in the wrong direction…
Getting back in the right direction was a bit of an adventure even though it wasn't the first time she took the so-called 'tube' (albeit never alone) and it, as well as many other means of Muggle transportation, had been thoroughly covered in Muggle Studies classes. In the end, it was nearly half past four in the afternoon when she did manage to get to the Leaky Cauldron, which she had to consider a victory.
The pub was as badly lit and grubby as she recalled, although its costumers – much fewer than the last time she'd been there – seemed to have gotten way creepier. She could feel eyes on her as she quickly made her way to the back of the pub, anxious to reach the entrance to Diagon Alley and, from there, get to the shop. No one stopped her, at least, and, after tapping the correct bricks on the wall of the backroom with her wand, the passage opened itself to show her something much darker than she'd recalled.
Diagon Alley hadn't exactly been in great shape last time she'd been there with shops closing and people barely crowding it. But now… As she walked along the street with her wand firmly clutched in her hand, she counted at least three shops closed for each open one. The pet shop, the Quidditch supplies shop… even Madam Malkin's – they were all closed. There was broken glass and boarded up or newspaper-covered windows… and, of course, one couldn't forget the million posters of Undesired #1 lying all over the place. Bizarre. It didn't seem like Diagon Alley anymore – it was a ghost town.
By the time she spotted the joke shop at a distance, which seemed to be the only lively place in the whole alley, she'd crossed paths with six or seven people at the most, at least half of those having suspiciously exited the way she knew to lead to Knockturn Alley. It was truly disturbing. She even found herself wondering if there was even a way back from how low things were at the moment. For a moment there, as a chill hit her, she just felt like slumping to the floor and giving up. There was no hope for herself, her family or the world. They were doomed.
She stopped herself for a moment. What was she thinking? No hope? Giving up? Where had that come from? she managed to just barely wonder for a moment. It took her just a glance up towards the grey-ish sky for her to get the answer. Dementors floating all over the alley. Just get the hell out of there, she told herself, hurrying her steps as she rushed into the shop.
Just walking in felt like being welcomed into the warm, familiar arms of safety. Unlike the depressively grey outside, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes exploded with colour and joy. There were very little costumers for what she was used to but she could just say the dozen at the most people inside the shop were the bulk of Diagon Alley's shoppers. Good for them, she vaguely thought.
"Isabelle?" she suddenly heard George – she was just sure it was him, although later she'd ask herself how telling his and Fred's voices apart by just one word had become so easy – asking in surprise. Her eyes found him standing a few feet away, apparently restocking a shelf with products. At first, she could tell he was pleased to see her, although his expression slowly shifted to a suspicious one. "Where are your parents?"
She shrugged. "At home, for all I know." Lie. Big fat lie – as much as she tried not to think of it, she had no doubt that by then they must be looking for her. Worried sick. She needed to find a way to let them know she was okay – she might be angry at them but not that angry that she'd want them wondering if she was lying dead in some alley.
"Why, what do we owe the pleasure of your presence, Miss Black?" Fred asked, walking up to her with a grin, having just finished feeding a bunch of pigmy puffs.
She shrugged. "I was in the neighbourhood." Big fat lie number 2…
"Oh, were you?" George asked, sceptically. It was like he could see right through her.
"Well, you're always welcome among these parts," Fred stated, much more welcomingly.
"Sure," George slowly agreed before shooting Izzy a look. "Although we have to wonder what's really brought you here. On your own."
Fred poked his twin with his elbow, finding his behaviour utterly odd. "What's gotten into you now? Have you forgotten how to be a pal? No questions asked among friends."
"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna work this time around," he declared, still eyeing a very quiet Izzy. "Do you think you can handle the shop on your own for a while?"
Fred raised one eyebrow in return. "Oh, I don't know. With all this clientele lining up I might have trouble handling it," he replied sarcastically, although something in the way he looked at George revealed he'd caught on to something. Fred knew his brother too well.
George ignored the look, though, and just turned to Izzy. "Come along," he said before walking off.
"Where to?" she asked, although she was already following him, never having even hesitated.
"Where I take you to," he cryptically replied, headed to the door behind the shop's counter.
After they walked through it, Izzy saw herself stepping into a familiar cramped hall, containing a door to the left and a stairwell to the right, leading both to a basement area below them and the floors above, where she knew to be both Remus's office and the twins' flat. And speaking of the devil, she thought when, after hearing steps coming from upstairs, her former DADA teacher hurried down the stairwell, only stopping when he saw her there with George, looking at her in puzzlement. "Izzy, what are you doing here?" he immediately inquired. "Your father just sent a patronus over. They're looking for you everywhere!"
"Oh, are they?" George asked dryly. He'd known something was up. He'd felt it ever since he'd laid eyes on her.
Izzy ignored George's words, just focusing in her old teacher. "Will you tell them I'm here?" she asked, more as a request than as a simple question.
Remus eyed her in surprise. "Well, obviously," he said. "I'm not about to let them turn half of London over looking for you when you're standing right ib front of me." Part of him wondered what that was all about. His friend had hurriedly skipped through any details beyond the fact that his daughter had stormed out after some sort of argument. He supposed he should be glad that, even though he was on his way to fatherhood, teenage years were still more than a decade away…
Izzy's only response was a nod, relieved to know her parents would be told she was okay. She supposed now that she didn't have that to worry about, she could concentrate on what a pig-headed arse her father was being.
"Well, in the meanwhile before they show up, I'm taking Isabelle away for a little chat," George started, opening the door on the left and nodding at it. "This way, milady," he told her.
Izzy looked up and raised her eyebrows at the redhead for a moment before eventually giving in and just stepping into the unknown room, hardly noticing as her father's best friend made his way back upstairs in order to contact her parents.
As soon as she stepped in, she immediately concluded she was currently standing in the shop's stocking room. It was either that or a very messy and stuffed office.
There were boxes everywhere. Literally everywhere. On the floor, on shelves, on chairs, on and under tables… on some corner there was even a big messy pile of Christmas ornaments, somewhat mixed up with non-Christmassy products. That was clearly the twins' domain. She could literally imagine Remus pulling his own hair faced with that mess whenever he needed to make inventory…
"So, what's going on?" George asked just after closing the door behind him, not acknowledging the mess around him at all. It was like it was part of the landscape…
"What makes you think there's anything going on?" Izzy asked in reply.
"The fact that you're here in the first place," he pointed out. "You don't just leave home on your own and send your parents on a search and rescue mission because everything's okay. So, really, Isabelle, what's going on?"
She sighed, accepting he was just too perceptive to take her excuses. She then took a seat on the only chair in the room that wasn't covered with boxes full of suspicious items and finally spoke. "Have you read the newspaper today?"
He seemed confused for a few seconds before some recognition covered his face as he used his wand to relieve a chair of the boxes on it so he could take a seat a few feet opposite her. "If by 'newspaper' you mean that ministry-propaganda-filled pile of paper that owls bring over every morning, then, yes, I may have browsed through it just for the sake of getting my daily dose of hogwash," he said. "So, if this is about the paper, then let me guess: your parents don't want you to go back to a Death Eater-infested Hogwarts."
She raised her eyebrows at him, amazed at how quickly he'd hit the mark. "How did you know?"
"Maybe I have the inner eye," he said, just for the sake of trying to get that heavy look out of her face.
She rolled her eyes. "Be serious, George."
"What? Is it so hard to believe I could give Trelawney a run for her money?" he replied, watching as she had to bite her lower lip to keep herself from letting out a little smile. Stubborn even when it came to smiling, he observed. "Fine. Let's just say I witnessed a similar situation this morning when Fred and I reported to the Burrow for our weekly session of family breakfast," he finally explained.
"Oh," Izzy mumbled. It hadn't occurred to her before that Ginny might be in the same situation as her. "They don't want Ginny to go either?"
George shook his head. "It's mostly Mum. To be fair, this isn't the first time she makes a sweeping declaration about Ginny having no business going back to school although, I have to say, this time around things are much stickier than before… So far, Dad's always been able to change her mind but I'm not sure he'll even try this time – he was pretty quiet through the whole thing."
Izzy nodded. Oddly enough, it made her feel a bit better, knowing she and Ginny were in the same boat, although the fact that such a boat seemed to allow a distance of several miles between them, keeping them from being able to discuss and share those problems was still a bummer. "How did she react?" she asked George.
"She went nuts, obviously. Big shouting match between her and Mum… I'll spare you of the bulky details and just skip to the end when Ginny swore than if they didn't let her go back, she'd make a run for it and maybe even join Harry underground. Now, I really doubt she'd do that since I'm pretty sure she has no idea where he is but still I think it was rash enough to get Mum to give the matter a little more thought before making a final decision," George pointed out.
"Maybe I should have pulled that card on my dad too," Izzy mumbled.
"He really was the one… well, leading the charge?"
Izzy nodded. "Pretty ironic, isn't it? My dad, who, from what I've heard, would be reckless enough to poke a dragon with a stick just for the sake of taunting it (never mind he could get charred into a roast), doesn't want me to go back to Hogwarts because Snape's in charge now. Are you kidding me? If he were in my shoes, he'd be the first one there just so he could turn Snape's life into hell!"
He sighed, recognizing that situation hit pretty close to home. Hadn't he, after all, found himself dragging this particular girl out of a potential battlefield, only to make his way back so he could kick some arse over there? He supposed that was the reason why justifying Sirius's actions had felt so easy – because he was, in fact, justifying himself. "This wouldn't be the first time – and I'm sure won't be the last – when standards changed between you being the one putting yourself out there in the dangerous zone or allowing someone you care for a lot to do it," he told her. "Is it fair? Not really. But can you help it? Probably not. Us humans are big fat hypocrites, Isabelle. It's in our nature. It's part of being able to care and it's one of the things that makes us… you know, different. Special. Whatever you choose to name it."
It really, really annoyed her to realize that he was making perfect sense in her head. That he was right. It just sounded so easy coming from him… "So I'm just supposed to accept that I'll be surrounded by hypocrites my whole life?"
"That and also that maybe it won't particularly be a bad thing," he added.
Izzy huffed. "Yeah, you would say that. Don't think I've forgotten about your little 'hero act' at the wedding."
George rolled his eyes. "I just knew you were going to bring that up," he said. "Can't you get over it. If you're fishing for an apology, you can forget it."
"I'm not fishing for anything," she replied. "I'm just sick of people thinking I can't tell a stunner apart from a tickling charm."
"Nobody thinks that. I, for sure, don't. But, Merlin forbid, if Death Eaters showed up out of nowhere right now, I'd still drag you out of here as fast as I could."
She gulped. "Why?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Because you're my friend. Think like this – even great Quidditch Players are bound to have friends and family who worry that they'll get their heads smashed by a bludger. And is that because they think they're bad at what they do? No, it's because bad things can happen even to the best. And you're fifteen. Protecting you isn't about thinking you're some fragile flower. It's about wanting to make sure you get to stick around and have an actual life after this is all over."
She didn't speak for a few minutes, reflecting on what he'd told her. He couldn't possibly be fully sure those were the reasons behind her parents', mainly her father's, insistence on her not going back to Hogwarts. Still, in her mind, she could perfectly picture them leaning on that logic – they loved her, so they didn't even want her to get the chance to be in danger. Maybe she'd gone defensive a little too fast… That didn't mean, though, she quickly added in her mind, that she wasn't right too. War changed rules and being protective of a fifteen-year-old girl who knew at the very least the basics about defence should no longer be a priority when there were so many other things to worry about. And then, more important than all, was the fact that, if they did keep her home, her parents were facing the fact that they'd become wanted fugitives, which they seemed to refuse to care about. She might not feel all that furious anymore but that discussion was very far from over. Sighing, she turned to George, who was looking at her with eyebrows raised.
"I know I'm supposed to be prone to comedy and all but are my serious speeches so boring that you have to space out to get through them?" he asked, pretending to be hurt.
She rolled her eyes. "I was doing this thing called thinking… you might have heard of it before."
"Yes, I may have caught some rumours about it," he jokingly replied. "Any big conclusions?"
She shrugged. "They're still mostly under development," she simply replied. "Do you think I'm being stupid? Wanting to go to school infested with Death Eaters when my parents are willing to sacrifice their freedom to keep me home?"
Well, that was a question he really didn't know how to answer. To be honest, if it were up to him to decide between making her stay and letting her go, he was sure he'd stick with the first thanks to the completely bonkers protectiveness of her he'd recently found. Yet, he had enough sense not to say it out loud and to know it wasn't his place to decide or even to change her mind. He'd just be taking a stab at proving himself right in his 'people are natural hypocrites' argument if he did that and likely end up damaging their friendship. "I don't think you're being stupid," he truthfully told her. "But I think it's pretty risky."
"Wouldn't you go if you were me?"
Well, that pretty much did it. "Would you ever take me seriously if I said 'no'?"
She has to chuckle. "Maybe if you'd recently suffered a head injury…"
"Wow, thanks. That's awfully flattering," he replied sarcastically. "I guess, since we're in a complimenting mood, I should keep myself from point out the worrying pattern that I'm seeing here with you storming out after a big fight for the second time in, what, three months? – awfully girlish reaction, Isabelle. I thought you were better than that."
She gave him an appalled look and it took her a few seconds to get that he was also referring to her big Horcrux confrontation with Harry back in July. It annoyed her not only that he hadn't let it go but also that he was accusing her of being overly girlish when handling her fights. Idiot. "Well, I promise that if one day I do end up really angry at you, I won't storm out. I'll just hit you. Maybe even curse you."
"Of course you will. After all, it seems you always end up with me talking you down whenever you pull a stalking-off-in-frustration act."
She pursed her lips together in frustration. "Doing it twice doesn't make a pattern," she replied. "And I only came here this time because everyone else was too far away."
"Excuses, excuses," he said, cockily leaning against the back of his chair. "Would you be very offended if I started charging by the hour?"
Annoyed, she tried to kick him on the shins but he was quick enough to escape her attack, just chuckling in return.
"Fine, we can talk about business later. Now just tell me: how did you get here anyway? Didn't your parents close the floo? Don't tell me you walked. Your place is at the very least forty minutes away walking."
"So what if I did?" she said a bit defyingly.
He raised his eyebrows. "Then you'd have been really stupid. Do you have any idea how easily a teenage girl walking alone on the street could get murdered or kidnapped these days? You may not be openly wanted for now, but if Death Eaters knew they could get their hands on Harry Potter's little sister and make it look like you'd run away on your own, they wouldn't hesitate for a second."
She hadn't really thought of it that way, Izzy realized. It was true she'd gotten how stupid it had been to go out on her own about half-way through her journey there but she hadn't really noted the extent of the pickle she could've put herself into. "Well, to be honest, I actually took the underground, so…"
George made a face of utter disgust at that. "The underground?" he asked in disbelief. "You mean those trains that run around under the ground like… I don't know… moles? That's so weird!"
"Certainly not weirder than Muggles would find travelling between fireplaces," she pointed out. "And clearly you didn't take Muggle studies at Hogwarts or else you'd know the tube was perfectly safe…"
"How could I take that when Care for Magical Creatures and Divination were such a riot?" he asked. "You can't picture me and Fred taking a third optional class, can you? Don't take me wrong – I'm a big fan of Muggle culture – after all, we often use their stuff to inspire our products and all – but that underground thing… it's just plain freaky."
She rolled her eyes and imagined how fun his reaction would be to an actual ride on the so-called tube. It seemed so promising she vowed to find a way to get him there one day. Maybe even take pictures, just for the sake of annoying him. She shook her head, then – that would have to wait for after the war… provided they made it in the first place. "You're all the things in the world you could pick find odd… never mind this is coming from someone who sells stuff like edible dark marks and U-No-Poo for a living!"
"Can't be so freaky if people keep buying them," he replied. "Not to take them themselves, I hope, but still… they're among the fastest to leave the shelves when the shop's full."
Which didn't really seem the case at the moment. "Yeah… about that, I take it the shop's not doing so well these days," she pointed out, forcing a complete change of the subject.
"Oh, don't be fooled by appearances," he stated. "The sales in the actual shop have been a bit down but the owl orders have been through the roof. Especially our line of defence objects. Remus reckons that soon the post office won't have enough owls to deliver everything in time…"
"Well, that's… impressive," she said.
"Impressive? Oh, please, I won't settle for anything short of brilliant," George corrected.
"Bloody modest too," she sarcastically observed just before a knock sounded on the door, to which George replied to by telling whoever it was to come in.
And, just as the door opened up and her mother stepped in, looking slightly irritated as she looked at her, Izzy couldn't say she was upset as she'd expected to be – it actually relieved her to see her there.
"Well, guess it's scold o'clock. I guess I'll leave you to it," George announced, getting up from the chair and starting to head to the door. He's just stepped out a second earlier when his head popped back into the room, a sheepish look on his face. "Oh, and if you do end up exiled at home, Isabelle, I promise I'll visit."
"Thanks," Izzy replied in a dry tone, watching as he closed the door behind him. She bit her lip, then, and glanced at her mother, not really knowing what to expect. "How grounded am I?" she dared asking.
"Still to be determined," Mia said before taking a long breath. "What on Earth were you thinking, Izzy? Going out like that in this time and day? You could have gotten kidnapped! You could have gotten killed!"
"I know. I just… I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, Mum," she said, looking down.
She pursed her lips together, part of her still not done shaking with the fear she'd felt for her daughter. "We looked for you everywhere – we even had to ask your grandparents to help us. Merlin, Izzy. If Remus hadn't sent us s Patronus saying you were here, we might have lost it!"
Izzy didn't reply. She didn't really know what to say – she'd needed to leave and she hadn't cared about the potential consequences at the moment. She was sorry now but only about her reckless exit. Her mind was still set in what came to her wanting to attend Hogwarts the following year.
Sighing, Mia took a few steps towards her daughter and pulled the chair in front of her a bit nearer so that, when she sat down, they were close enough that her knees were bumping against Izzy's. She took the younger girl's hands in her own, making her look up. "I know it doesn't sound fair that we don't want you to go back to Hogwarts," she offered in a soothing tone. "It wouldn't seem that way to me either if I were in your shoes. But you have to understand that it's not easy for us either. The last thing we want is to see you miserable but the thought of sending you over to a place that's not safe anymore, especially when we're practically sure we won't be able to be able to be there for you if you need us… Knowing you have one child out there in danger is bad. Knowing you have two… it's maddening, Izzy."
She could understand their side. She really could. But she just couldn't bring herself to give in. "I get it, Mum. But I just can't stay home. I can't. I'll lose my mind! I know I'll have you around if I have to stay but I already miss my friends like mad. And I just can't stay behind hiding like some wimp! It's not me and it not you either. Home is supposed to be home. Not a prison. And that's what you'll be turning it into if you exile us there. Maybe it will happen sooner or later but we owe it to ourselves to at least give not being fugitives a try for a while. And that involves sending me back."
Mia didn't respond for a few seconds. It was true that the possibility of having to hide out for mother… years, maybe, made her want to pull her own hair. But it wasn't that easy. More and more, it was starting to feel like their only chance going underground… She took a deep breath before speaking, deciding to take a more… neutral position. "Honey, I can't say that I want you to go. I doubt there's a single parent around there – at least among those still on our side of this fight – who wants to send their kids over to Hogwarts after these news came out. But we haven't made a final decision yet," she said, causing Izzy to look up at her with a hopeful look on her face. "We're still waiting to see what Professor McGonagall has to say – she's been at Hogwarts all this time and she, more than anyone, will know if sending you over there is a risk worth taking or not. Personally, I wouldn't keep my hopes up but… well…" she stopped speaking when her daughter nodded, hinting she'd gotten the picture.
Choosing not to press the matter as she found the fact that things weren't set in stone yet good enough, Izzy made an effort to shift the conversation a little. "Where's Dad?"
"Outside with Remus," her mother let her know.
She sighed. "Is he really angry? Is that why you had to come ahead?"
Mia shook her head. "He's angry but mostly not at you – you're not the one who came up with these laws, after all. When it comes to you, he's most of all relieved you're okay. But don't think that's going to let you off the hook or anything, though. Somewhere there's a punishment with your name on it, I just haven't had the time to find it yet," she warned Izzy, who nodded back, resigned to that fact. "Your father loves you very much, Izzy – he just wants you to be safe."
Izzy looked down at her hands. "I know," she said before looking up. "But I know what I want too."
Mia huffed. "You're too much alike, you know?" she said, making her daughter raise an eyebrow. "In a day-to-day basis you're a bit less… bold than he is but when one of you thinks you're right about something, well, you'll fight to the nail to get your way done. You're passionate, you're stubborn… you're a little bit too confident in your own abilities at times. I suppose it's a good thing you mostly get along well or else that house would be a warzone every time you clashed."
Her daughter frowned at the comparison while, under less tense circumstances, she might have enjoyed being likened to her father.
Feeling she'd done her part on that matter, Mia gave herself a moment to look around, taking in her odd surroundings. "Did you come all the way here just to talk to George?" she found herself wondering.
Izzy felt her face heating a little. Where had her mother gotten that idea from? Not that it was particularly wrong. "I hadn't really planned it," she said, before realizing how that made her sound like, as an insightful person might put it, 'her subconscious had led her to the object of her affections'. "All my other friends were too far away. And he's not all that bad to talk too… people don't give him much credit beyond his pranking skills…"
Mia smiled. It reminded her of someone she knew, she thought for a moment before shaking her head, feeling silly. "Well, do you want to stay here a little longer or do you think you can handle going out there already?" she asked, starting to get up
Izzy shrugged. "I guess there's no time like the present," she mumbled as she stood up as well.
Before she had a chance to head to the door, her mother touched her arm with her hand in a supportive manned and then, unable to help it, pulled her into a hug.
She didn't even bother protesting, just resting her head against her mother's shoulder. Everything seemed so safe just there and then… She knew the feeling wasn't real but, for a moment, she just let herself be fooled by it.
"Don't run like that again," Mia whispered. "I could barely breathe, wondering if you were okay."
Izzy didn't respond – she just held on to her mum for a little while longer, right up until Mia was the one to take a step back, letting go and opening the door so they could step out.
When they stepped back into the shop, she immediately spotted her father standing by the door with Remus, his arms crossed and posture tense as he discussed something with his friend. Just at the moment when he saw her, thought, she saw something in him change like he was relieved by seeing her. And, as much as she was still annoyed at him and had far from let go of their argument, Izzy had to admit she was happy to see him too…
The conversation with Remus was quickly wrapped up, then, and the werewolf stepped away from her father, likely headed back to his office. Seconds later, as she heard her mother stopping Remus for a moment in order to thank him, Izzy started making her way to her father, a bit tentatively at first.
He didn't move an inch and just waited for her to approach, remaining quiet right up until she was only a couple of yards away. "Had a nice walk?" he finally asked his daughter in a dry tone.
She didn't answer, instead just continuing to walk up to her father with her arms crossed. She could already tell his head was much cooler now than it had been before when they'd fought. "I'm sorry about storming out. But I'm not about the rest. I want to go back," she simply said, laying out all the cards on the table. She supposed it was easier that way – it prevented any misunderstandings.
He eyed her without a word for a few seconds, then glanced at Mia, who gave him a warning look behind Izzy's back, as if she was telling him to take it easy. Maybe he was stubborn, Sirius willed himself to admit. But, being that the case, the girl was a worthy and very exhausting opponent, he admitted, huffing. "We'll talk about this later. Let's just go home now – my head's too stuffed at the moment to jump straight into round 2 on this matter."
A truce, then. She could handle that, just as long as he wasn't expecting her to forget everything. "Later, then," she agreed, putting emphasis on the 'later' part.
And, without the need for another word, Sirius was able to read the message between the lines – I'm not letting this go, she might as well have said.
Why couldn't she make it easy? He thought. The answer came easily enough – because he sure as hell wouldn't make it easy either, were he in her shoes. It's just like fighting with yourself, Mia has said earlier. Now he got the meaning of those words, he thought in annoyance. He let out a frustrated breath before wrapping his arm around her shoulders, willing himself to simply enjoy the fact that she was alright for the moment. "You're going to be the death of me, you know?"
"I'd rather not," she honestly replied. She'd be perfectly happy with a peaceful resolution. And, as her father started to walk her to the shop's door, Izzy paused for a moment, turning around in order to face George, who stood at the counter, pretending he wasn't paying attention by keeping himself packing some sort of cardboard box by hand probably meant for a mail order. "Hey, George? Thanks," she told him.
He looked up at her and made himself shrug like it wasn't really a big deal. "Don't mention it," he replied.
She offered him a little smile and turned around, walking out with her father as her mother quietly followed behind. George's eyes never left her right up until he saw Sirius taking Izzy along with him when he disapparated right outside the door. And his stare, he was about to realize, didn't seem to go unnoticed.
Someone seemed to clear their throat nearby and, when he turned to face whoever it was, George was frustrated to find Fred leaning against the side of the counter, eyeing him in a way that couldn't just say 'got you'. "What are you looking at?" George asked his twin in annoyance.
Fred grinned cockily. "I spy with my little eye something really, really interesting," he mockingly sing-sang.
George groaned. "Shut up," he mumbled.
"Hum-hum," the other twin patronizingly mumbled. "Ickle Izzy Black? Really?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied, forcing himself to look busy packing the box up by hand when he could be doing so magically.
Fred snorted. "Yeah, you go ahead and stick to that story. Now, excuse me. I've got clients to butter up," he said before walking away, headed towards a couple of people who'd just walked in.
George forced himself to ignore his twin, although he wasn't strong enough to completely let go of the matter. Izzy Black was just a good friend and only cared about her as such, he told himself. The answer that came from part of him was quick. Tell that to someone who'll believe it, idiot. Damn. It was like having Fred in his bloody mind!
"Ridiculous," he mumbled to himself. "You're just ridiculous."
And, giving up on convincing himself, he went back to doing some actual work.
A/N - Well, it's 5 a.m. I'm pretty much dead on my feet. I hope you liked the chapter - writing it was a really great way to relax from the stress of the admission process, so I'm quite fond of it. Feedback is welcome, as always. Review!
Anne