7. If This Was a Movie

If life were a movie then the next five years of my life would be thrown over the camera, completely ignored in favour of the grand scheme fate had planned. And possibly to shorten the amount of time for what would be deemed as dull to outsiders but completely mind boggling to the one underdoing the transformation, in this case me.

The audience wouldn't see me transform from a young girl into a teenager with a mind too old for her body. They wouldn't see the transition from primary school to secondary, where Prunella Trunchball, the pudgy blonde, hounded me more than ever away from the protection of my older best friends, Zoe Brimble and Jonathan 'Nate' Pike. They wouldn't see me stress under the humongous load of homework, the conflicting teenage emotions, teasing and gossiping that seemed life threatening from the raging hormones ("Oh! Look at her eyebrows! Too close together and far too bushy. And that nose! Ugh, running into a brick wall couldn't even save that."), the juggle between working a part time job and keeping up with everything else and all the other menial changes life thrust upon me.

And they wouldn't see Bill coming back.

It had been only been a few days since Nanny Anne's funeral and I was still residing at the Brimble's. I was sat in the living room with Eric, Zoe's eldest brother, who was teaching me how to play blackjack when Mrs Brimble answered the door, instantly ceasing the incessant knocking. To say she was shocked would've been an understatement when she saw Bill; no one had seen him since before the funeral. He took me home in silence and made me dinner for the first time.

"Why did you come back?" I asked as he cleared the table. I refused to take my eyes off him. "Why did you come and get me?"

His footsteps faltered slightly before resuming again, keeping his back towards me. "Anne would've flipped a lid if she saw me actin' the way I was. You deserve better kid, and I promise to look after yer."

Now, if life was a movie none of that would've been shown. It would skip straight to a regular day where I wake up to make Bill breakfast only to find he's already left for work via a brief note, and then carry on my day until I see him at dinner. Fast forward the almost completely silent meal filled with awkward 'how are you's and any other snippets of conversations where we mention something of some importance that the camera conveniently skipped over, to me sitting up in bed crying at the worn photo album and running my fingers lightly over everyone's faces, slipping out a sentence or two every few minutes to catch the audience up on what they've missed.

But life most certainly isn't a movie. My life dragged on by the minute, inching through every monotonous day and every highly emotional drama, thinking this is it. This is my life. How exciting. Where the most thrilling moment was my first kiss, albeit Nate had swapped places with Zoe's new cat at the time and I then refused to go anywhere Nate – the first dare I ever declined (which I later made up for after stuffing myself with Mrs Brimble's cheese and onion quiche. How d'you like that Nate!) How many teenage girls could proudly say their first kiss was with a smelly cat? And then their first intentional kiss with a boy was filled with the taste of the most awfully scented foods ever?

I never cried over photos. I never found much reason to look at them unless we had a guest who outwardly asked for them. Most of my spare time was hardly ever even spent in my room. I completed homework on my favourite pistachio-green sofa and even slept there most nights. Some habits were too hard to break. Dinner wasn't as awkward as some directors and producers would've made it out to be. I spoke of my day in great detail while Bill would add in comments of his own and ask questions about whatever. But he never delved into his own work. Not the work at the paper shop; he had no qualms about relaying his issues with annoying customers with their odd small talk.

It was his wizard work he never spoke of.

Bill had taken to Flooing out to do God knows what every week. His visits were never regular; one day he would leave late in the night and wouldn't be back for days at a time. This was when Zoe and I would look after his paper shop. I never asked him what he was up to. Oh no, I learnt my lesson. He went on a massive rant on how I should trust him and that if anything were to happen to him I would be informed after I asked him about it just before my twelfth birthday. I took his word for it. I wasn't about to let us fall out again.

If this was a movie there would also be some complicated romance involved, presumably those conflicted love triangles with the two most involved boys in my life: Nate and George. Although Nate was my 'first' kiss there were no romantic feelings. He was my shy older brother at most. My shy older brother who harboured unrequited feelings for our other best friend. But every teenage drama movie needs a bit of romantic drama. Not in real life.

And George…

The summer of Nanny Anne's death was the most I'd ever seen of George. One night when Bill was back he snuck me out to the swings in the park and then we sat atop the slide, just sitting. No talking, no joking, no thinking. He broke the silence by saying how he was going boarding school (or as he called it, 'going away for the boring month's school') the following year. His visits after that were always a surprise but he always managed to find me at least once a month. And then he went to 'going away for the boring month's school' where I saw him once during the holidays.

But I was much too young then to be worrying about a love life. Even when I was at the acceptable age to be involved with a boy he always managed to take my mind off it. Regaling tales of some more intricate pranks he carried out in school, detailing his detentions and friends, we never bothered with advancing into the unknown. Well, unknown for me. George never had any issue with telling me about his flings in school after his third (or was it second?) year at his school.

Being busy did not deter me from still having thoughts of romance, however.

Life was definitely not a movie. And whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, who knew?

"Is little Ella in dream land again?" His voice snapped me out of my daze.

School had just broken off for the summer and we were in my garden soaking up some of the rare hot rays of the blinding sun. Well, George was. I was comfortably in the shade attempting to read a book on a classical forbidden love story I had picked up from the local bookstore while Bill was out in wizard land.

"Shut up, I'm busy," I said, my voice muffled against the pencil in my mouth, used for scribbling down any notes in the sides.

George got up from where he was laying on the grass and stretched out his arms. I would be a liar if I said I hadn't noticed how much he changed since he was away at school. Not mentally, definitely not. He was still as much as a child in that still bright red head of his. Physically he had grown taller, was still growing and was a fair bit taller than me now (I stopped growing as soon as I hit fourteen). And he certainly filled out. His muscles flexed with the slightest movement, his jaw more defined with no ounce of baby fat (ok, maybe there was some), his veins more prominent on his hands and arms, his shoulders broader than ever, and those abs. God, he wasn't the lanky skinny boy I remember playing with in the park anymore. As well as that he grew out his hair. Where it was short and scruffy when I first met him, it was now long and hung around his face to below his chin.

He shook his hair out and walked over to me. With a quick swipe of his hand he pulled the book out of my hand. My head shot up.

"Hey!" I yelped, squinting my eyes up to glare at him silhouetted against the afternoon sun. He threw the book over his shoulder and pulled me up. I gasped, outraged. "Do not ever throw my books, George."

George scoffed and pushed me by my shoulders towards the grass in the sun where he previously lay. "School finished a week ago. You've spent months away from seeing this gorgeous face and godly body and you're not going to spend another second with a book while I'm here." He pressed down on my shoulders until I sat down. He leaned down next to my head. "Now, I'm going to go in and get us a drink and when I get back, you better be out of those clothes and without book." I stared up at him with wide eyes. His face flushed slightly as he stumbled to recover his words. "I- I mean not naked, hell no! I meant in a bikini or something, but not if you- if you don't want to, I mean…just- whatever you want, you look like you need a tan. NO! Not that you look like a ghost, trust me, you really don't but-"

"George," I interrupted him, smirking at his discomfort. It was a rare moment to see the red head embarrassed and blushing. If only I had my camera with me. "I get it. Go."

He nodded his head vigorously and started to walk backwards towards the kitchen door. "Ok. Good. I mean, you have nothing to be ashamed of…not that I'd know, I mean, I have a girlfriend and she'd-"

"George," I broke him off again and chuckled. "Seriously. Shut up and go."

George winked that still obnoxiously terrible wink, clicked his fingers and swivelled around, sauntering into the kitchen. I breathed out a laugh. Some things never change.

I cast my eyes around the garden, mentally noting the work Bill and I would have to do once he got back. The usual bipolar weather delayed us in mowing the grass and weeding, leaving the garden to look a mess. The birds flittered around the bird house Bill and Nanny Anne had fixed eons ago. A squirrel scurried on the back fence. A hedgehog was sitting by the slab of grey stone wedged crookedly into the ground with an array of multicolour flowers surrounding it.

I gazed sadly at the headstone, the usual feeling of my heart dropping into my stomach whenever I saw it present. It had only been a few months since Jimmy died. He was old. Really old. Bill said he had exceeded the typical age a dog should live and wasn't the least bit surprised when one day we woke up and he didn't. I remember walking through the village without him, the pitying glances that were thrown my way back in full force since Nanny Anne. It didn't seem right, going around without him by my side, waking up without his salivating tongue drooping everywhere, coming home from school to an empty house with no overexcited greeting.

"Wow, you're really out of it today, aren't you little one?" I jumped up and held my hand to my erratically beating heart.

"For God's sake, George, stop doing that," I said, slapping his arm. He chuckled and handed me a cool glass of lemonade. "Thanks."

"Well maybe if you didn't keep on going to la-la land I wouldn't have to," he replied, running his fingers against my ribs enough for me to squirm away from him. His signature smirk was in place. "Ohoho, did I forget little Ella's ticklish?"

I slapped is hand away. "NO, stop! And stop-" slap on the arm, "calling-" another, "me-" and again, "little!" And one more.

He bought his arms up to take the brunt of my attack. "Ok, ok, ok, enough woman! I get it, stop! And it's not my fault you have a baby face."

It was, unfortunately, true. My round face with a slightly pointed chin always made me look younger than my actual age, giving me the look of childlike innocence. "Oh, sod off you plonker," I grumbled, leaning away from him and resumed looking at the headstone, sipping lightly on the lemonade.

"You miss him," George stated. I nodded. He was the first companion I had with me through everything. He was the Baloo to my Mowgli, the Argos to my Odysseus. Life without him was incredibly plain and empty, and as much as Zoe tried to get her cat, Kiwi, to keep me company, she just couldn't replace him.

"So do I. Now I have no one to tell me when you're in a mood and need cheering up from a devilishly handsome red head."

"Ginger," I corrected with a smirk.

"Cheeky," George said nudging me with his arm. I bit my lip to suppress the grin taking over my face. Simple touches had me smiling like a fool lately when it came to George.

Silence came over us once again as we sat in the sun, keeping to our thoughts. But, George being George naturally felt the need to talk.

"I don't really have a girlfriend. There's a girl, but we're not together."

I brought my knees up to my chest and crossed my arms over them, holding my lemonade glass out with one hand. The sun shining on his head made his hair dance like fire in the light breeze, enticing me to run my fingers through it. His eyes had his usual playful glint to them which was only intensified by the light.

"What's she like?"

George smiled and looked up to the sky. "Perfect," he muttered. "She's just…amazing. I don't know how to describe her. She's really clever and funny and nice, but she can stand up for herself. God knows how many times she's yelled at me. Really dedicated and ambitious. Absolutely stunning." George smiled bashfully and played with a blade of grass.

I couldn't help the frown that tugged the corner of my lips. If life was a movie there would definitely be some romance in the main character's life. But life isn't a movie. And no matter how hard I tried to battle my growing crush on George, the feelings wouldn't go, even though we hardly saw each other all year. Perhaps I wasn't a large enough character to be considered a leading lady, even in my own life, thus underserving of my perfect man. I had a small and insignificant life. I was a squib living amongst muggles, but also with a secretive wizard who told me nothing of his double life. I was a wallflower in my own movie. How depressing is that? And to have unrequited feelings…man do I feel bad for Nate.

It was Christmas when I discovered my crush on George. Bill, Jimmy and I spent the day together eating and dancing, and went over to the Brimble's for dinner where it seemed most of the village congregated for the feast. I hadn't seen George during the last summer holidays because of his family trip to Egypt and then at Christmas he stayed at school. But I was pleasantly surprised when, as I was getting ready for bed, I found a parcel on my bed wrapped in shiny purple and green paper with a gold ribbon messily tied around it several times.

The letter had been short and sweet and I was even more surprised when it was signed from George and Fred, George's best friend and closest brother. The feeling of absolute elation, honour even, was rooted into my mind as I thought about how George talked to his brother about me. Yes, it was a privilege to get Fred's approval as George's other friend. Although I had never met him, I found myself really liking Fred.

The parcel was a box filled with little gifts. There was a thick ruby red scarf embellished with gold trimmings, a box of delightfully foreign sweets and a simple silver bracelet with amethyst gems dotted around it. The boys had noted that the bracelet was from Egypt and that amethyst represented royalty and was perfect for my title of Princess Cinderella. Not even Zoe or Nate had gotten me a collection of meaningful gifts, which made the gesture even sweeter.

"She sounds lovely," I said, sipping the last dregs of my lemonade.

"She is," George breathed out a deep laugh. "God I sound like a sap."

"Because you are one, Georgie! And just because she's not your girlfriend doesn't mean I'm stripping down into a bikini," I teased, wagging my finger in his face. His humour had definitely rubbed off on me over the years.

He threw his head back and laughed, the sun outlining every one of his freckles against his light tan. It took me all I had not to ogle at his exposed chest. "Oh, come one Elle! Nothing wrong with a bit of sun."

I rolled my eyes and stood up, taking our empty glasses and making my way to the kitchen. Sighing from the cool that the shade bought away from the sun, I placed the glasses in the sink. From the corner of my eye I saw George following me inside, grabbing his t-shirt from the chair and pulling it on. I could feel my face flushing slightly from the way his flexing muscles had me entranced. I quickly diverted my eyes to the dirty dishes before he caught me looking.

"So where's Bill?" George asked, leaning on his arms on the counter next to me.

"Dun' know. Probably working." In truth, Bill Flooed out the previous night and wasn't yet back. He was only gone for a night so I wasn't too worried. It still irked me not knowing what he was doing though.

"How's he doing?" he asked, his voice soft. George knew how badly Bill had taken Nanny Anne's death. We were certain he still wasn't entirely over it as he wasn't the same Bill I knew when he had taken me in.

I shrugged. "Same as always."

Turning the tap off, I turned to George. He was still leaning against the counter and watching me, his hair falling in his face. Without thinking I bought my hand up and pushed the few silky strands out of the way, only for them to fall back. I brushed them away again and pushed it behind his ear, lightly trailing my fingertips on his skin as I did.

"You hungry?" I asked, moving away from him and to the fruit bowl on the round table. Taking out two apples, I held one out to him.

George eyed the apple and flicked his eyes between me and the apple a few times. He pushed my hand away and took out another from the bowl, holding it extremely close to my face.

"Green, love. Did you honestly forget? Really woman, I'd've thought you'd know better by now," he said, taking a massive bite out of his green apple. I rolled my eyes and put the spare red apple back in the bowl.

"I'm sorry your highness. But one day you'll come to your senses and realise how stupid you're being."

He glared at me. He would've looked scary were it not for the apple juice on his chin. "That a threat, princess?"

"Hmmm," I drawled out, tapping my finger on my chin in an expression of thoughtfulness. "It could be…"

Throwing his half eaten apple over his shoulder, George suddenly leaped and held firmly onto my waist. I yelped in surprise.

"George! What the hell," I laughed and managed to squirm out of his hold.

"Oh no you don't!" With a yell he chased me around the table. We were both barefooted and on opposite ends of the table. I made to move to the right but George followed with exceptional speed. I stopped and sidestepped to the left, only for George to mimic my steps. George smirked. "What's wrong, princess? Stuck?"

I scoffed while trying to find an escape route. The garden door was behind me but I there was no way I would get away from him once out there. The hallway was behind George but getting around him looked impossible.

I looked down at my hand and back up to George. His eyes followed mine and they widened in realisation. Before he could utter a word I lobbed my apple at him and sprinted around, hoping the bruise forming on his head would distract him long enough. I blew a raspberry as I ran past him and squealed as I dodged his outstretched fingers.

"I'm gonna get you Ella!" I heard George yell.

My maniacal laughter grew as I reached the front door and tugged on the handle. Hands encircled my waist before I could yank open the door and George hoisted me up from behind and walked through the archway and to the living room.

"Ah-ha!" he barked and threw me down onto the sofa. He jumped on top of me, his legs on either side of mine to stop my kicking and with long nimble fingers, tickled my ribs and stomach. "Now you'll think twice before messing with a Weasley."

My eyes were squeezed tight and tears trickled down my cheeks. It had been such a long time since I had laughed so much. If I were able to think coherently I was sure I'd be blushing through my light olive skin at our current position. I couldn't even think of words let alone get any through my laughter.

Some things never change. And George was still my sunshine, even if for twice a year.

My cooking skills had improved greatly since the passing of Nanny Anne. Mrs Brimble had taught me a lot during my stay with her and although I burnt a lot when I first started cooking meals on my own, I gradually became better and managed to make edible food. I stirred the pot of sauce with meatballs and drained the pasta. Piling up two plates with steaming spaghetti, I placed them on the table with condiments and drinks and wiped my hands on my jeans.

I made my way through the archway and into the living room. Bill was sat in his armchair with a bottle on the table in front of him. The small glass was half filled with the deep amber liquid. He always came back from the wizard world with a few bottles of them. I flinched involuntarily and my hand rubbed to my thigh without thinking.

"Bill," I called out before going back to the kitchen. "Dinners up."

His thick boots were heard thumping on the hardwood floor in next to no time and he limped over to his seat. His hair was thinning and his beard was streaked with grey. Wrinkles marred his exposed skin and his tiny slits of eyes were surrounded by dark skin. One thing that was unchanged was his weight. He had first lost a lot of weight from lack of eating but he put it all back on quickly.

"Thanks, love," he said, sighing and picking up his fork. I sat down opposite him and poured lemon juice on the pasta. "How was your day?"

"Was good," I answered around a mouthful. "Cleaned up a bit, went down to see Imogen and Carley, read some and George came around for a bit." Carley was Imogen the baker's two year old daughter. I visited as much as I could because of Imogen and her husband both working, little Carley was often left hassling one of them at work.

"Haven't seen George in a while. How's he doing?"

I bit my lip to prevent the stupid smile taking over my face. I was normally good at composing my emotions but George did funny things to me. My gaze flickered to the bracelet on my wrist. "He's good."

Bill eyed me and nodded. His lip was twitched up ever so slightly in a smirk. We spoke normally but there was still an underlying awkwardness present. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't get over Bill's words before he left. They always played on my mind when we were together. He hadn't exactly apologised either, just brushed over it and carried on with life as if nothing happened.

We ate in silence for a while, the only sounds being of our forks scraping against the plates.

"I need to Floo out again tonight," Bill broke the silence. I looked up.

"Again? You were out this morning though," I said before I could stop myself. Bill had never Flooed out for wizard work twice in one day before.

"Yeah, something I really gotta do."

"Oh, ok. D'you know when you'll be back?"

He shook his head and slurped up a stray strand of spaghetti hanging off his lip, spraying sauce over his beard. "No. Should ideally be back in a few days." He looked up at me through his tiny eyes. "You'll be ok on your own? You can handle the shop with Zoe?"

"Zoe's on holiday. I could get Nate to help?"

"Sure. Whatever helps."

So many questions ran through my mind. I was desperate to know what Bill was off doing in the wizard world. It wasn't like I would be oblivious to whatever he said; I grew up in the wizarding world after all. But Bill always brushed me off or changed the topic to something muggle whenever I mentioned something relating to the magical world. He had been Flooing out every week for five years; what was he doing? What wasn't he telling me? It hurt, feeling as if I couldn't be trusted. Or maybe he was just preventing me from involving myself with every aspect of his life. After all, I'm not his daughter.

He dropped his fork into his empty plate and pushed his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor as he stood. "Thanks for dinner, love. I'll be off now."

I nodded and stood. I grabbed his plate and was walking towards the sink when Bill held my arm. I looked back at him. His expression was unreadable. Without hesitation, he leaned forwards and pressed his lips to my forehead in a light kiss, lingering for long seconds.

I stood frozen as he left through the archway. It had been a long time since Bill had shown any caring signs of affection besides the odd one-armed hug. The gesture made my eyes burn slightly as tears threatened to fall. I blinked them away and cast my eyes around the kitchen.

The Floo sounded and I was left alone again.