Ron did hex her. Right as the flames died in the fireplace.
She shouldn't have expected anything different from her not so friendly friend. So, laying in the ash of the fireplace, Miranda just laughed.
"Are you nutters! You left 'Mione and Harry out there alone!" Ron screamed, his face red.
Miranda just continued laughing, so hard that tears filled her eyes, and she barely heard a female voice ask, "Es she alvight?", in an accent that sounded very French.
Ron was panicking, "I just hit her with a knock back! She should have been fine!"
Miranda heard an unfamiliar male voice, "Ron, I think you better check on her. We'll go get her some water."
Ron nudged her with his foot, "Miranda? Are you...okay?"
She stifled her laughter, sitting up as she wiped her weepy eyes, "Ginny. She bet you'd hex me. Sorry about the laughing. I was just a little...never mind." She stood suddenly and hugged Ron, stunning the boy, "You've really blown it this time, Ronald." She whispered into his ear.
"What?" He asked as she stepped back with a smile on her face.
"We were worried half to death for you. I'm not sure Hermione will forgive you when you come back." She said simply, taking in the sight of him and marveling at just how worried she'd been. The bastard. Somewhere along the way he'd wormed his way into her heart, just enough for her to be relieved to see him alive and well.
"She's mad? I offered for her to come!" He yelled, his face instantly flushing red.
Miranda slapped him, just as Ginny had slapped her, "Of course she's mad, you nitwit! You can't ask a girl to choose something like that! Oaf! I'm mad at you even, and I don't even like you!"
He shrugged, "At least the feeling's mutual."
They were both liars there.
"Agh! You really are daft, aren't you? I'm here because you need to get it into your thick skull that they need you to be with them." Miranda groused.
"They don't need me. They've got you." Ron said, throwing himself into a comfortable looking armchair.
Miranda felt any lingering frustration fade, "Ron, I could never replace you. You're their friend, and have been for a long time. You mean far more to them than I do. I might be close to Harry, but you're his best friend."
"Still doesn't change the fact that we're getting nowhere." He said, glaring at her.
Miranda glared back at him, "Well, backing out isn't going to help. It shows weak constitution. There's nothing I can do that you couldn't do if you set your mind to it."
It looked for a second like he was getting it, like it was sinking into his freaky thick head that she wasn't going to steal them from him. She wanted to tell him that at the end of the war, she wasn't going to be an issue, but he wasn't like his sister...he would open his big mouth. His brother interrupted his internal consideration. "Are you sure you're all right?" He asked, handing Miranda a glass of water.
"Yeah, it's not like he hasn't done that to me before. I'm beginning to think it's just his way of greeting me." She tipped her head towards Ron's older brother, "Thank you for the water. I'm Miranda by the way, Miranda Peverell. You must be Bill."
The man smiled, and Miranda was instantly taken with him, just as she had been with his sister and parents. It seemed like Ron was the only Weasley who lacked tact, "Not a problem. So, you've heard about Ron's mauled brother."
Miranda looked around him at Fleur, "Actually, I heard about the brother with the lovely French wife. Congratulations on your marriage by the way. That was the same night I met Ron, Harry and Hermione. Fortuitous events I believe."
"T'ank you." Fleur said with a smile. "You are very polite, Ron usually has not such friends b'sides 'Arry and 'Ermione."
Miranda smiled at Ron, "Well, I'm more their friend than Ron's."
"She's snogging Harry. That's what she means. And she and 'Mione are all over the books together." Ron growled. Fleur and Bill raised their eyebrows at each other and slipped out of the living room.
"Well, Ron, she's not all over anything anymore. You need to come back with me in three days." Miranda said curtly.
"three days?" Ron said.
"Yes, I said I'd meet Harry back where we were in a weeks time. This is the fourth day. I had trouble finding you." Miranda explained easily, as if the first two days hadn't been spent destroying every remaining thing she'd thought was true about her past.
Ron looked thoughtful, but his face then resumed it's previous venture in trying to match his hair, "No. I can't forgive what he said. Not that quickly. You can stay here or at the Burrow until then, but I'm not going back."
She sighed, "I guess I expected too much for you to feel incredibly guilty, didn't I? At least I get to tell Harry that I was right." She said, baiting Ron.
"Right about what?" He nearly shouted when she turned away, looking at the pictures hung on the wall.
Miranda smiled like a cat who had just caught a fat rat, "That you're an insufferable prat. He thought rather highly of you, kept defending you. I told him you were slowing us down."
"You- you slow us down!" Ron yelled at her. She looked him straight in the eyes and he paled, "Your eyes..."
"Yes, Ronald, I can see again. Now you're the one slowing them down. First with your atrocious attitude, and now they're sick with worry over you. 'Mione's half convinced you've splinched yourself to death. You're gone, and you still slow them down. You're pathetic, Ronald. You don't deserve friends like them with the way you've been acting." Miranda took a step into his personal space, just inches from him as she blew air on his fiery temper. With any luck, she'd just blown it out.
Just as she'd hoped, he went even paler, and assumed a very pitiful look, complete with a trembling lower lip. "I didn't realize."
She smiled kindly at him, and pulled him into a hug, "I know you didn't. It's alright. You haven't done a thing that can't be fixed." He started sobbing, just like Tom had as a child after staying angry for too long. Miranda just stroked his red hair, murmuring to him, "Hush, Ron, they love you. You just need to get your head out of your arse."
"Why am I crying?" He blubbered out as she moved them to a plush ottoman.
"Everyone needs a good cry ever once in a while, even men. Just let it all out. You'll feel better, I promise." She said softly, recalling all the times she'd cried in recent memory.
"You sound like Looney." He said.
"Looney?" She asked, handing him his sister's handkerchief. "What's that?"
"Luna, she's a girl at school. She's a friend, but almost as nutters as you are." He said, wiping his face. "We call her Looney behind her back...to her front sometimes too."
Miranda shook her head, bemused, "I'm going to take that as a compliment."
"You shouldn't. She's insane, really bloody nuts. Sweet, but barmy." Ron grumbled, "You made me cry."
Miranda smiled, "I told you, you just needed a good cry."
"I've never seen you cry." Ron said, the thought about her being unnatural crossing his mind again.
Just like she had with Dolores Umbridge, Miranda unconsciously tripped up Ron's mind in the web of her eyes, "Ron, please, you've seen me cry. Don't you remember?"
Ron fell easily, "Yeah, yeah, sorry, I remember."
"So, will you come back with me?" Miranda said after a few minutes of silence, hoping that he had changed his mind, and also hoping she wouldn't burst into tears herself. That charm she'd used to her advantage all her life, was it hers? Or was it the monsters?
Ron vigorously dried his face, "Not in three days. I need more time than that. Some of the things he said, they're going to take a while for me to forgive. I'm sorry."
Miranda knew when she was out of luck. No amount of her charm was going to make Ron change his mind. She gave a wry smile. "I'm sorry too. I'll be at the Burrow with your mum and Ginny then. Just come there if you change your mind."
"Thank you, Miranda. I feel better." He said humbly.
"I'll just be going now." Miranda said, standing back up.
"Won't you stay for dinner?" Bill said, coming back into the room.
Miranda smiled as Ron turned his head away to hide his red eyes, "I'd love to, thanks for letting us commandeer your living room. I apologize for making a scene."
"It wasn't a problem, Ron can be a prat sometimes, our brother Percy too." Bill said with a goofy smile that made Miranda giggle.
Ron looked indignant, "I'm not a prat!"
"Well, you're brother is right, you do look like a prat." Miranda said, enjoying the ability to banter with Ron without being reigned in by Harry or Hermione.
"If you want to know what a prat looks like, you need to see Malfoy." Ron said snappily.
"What's a Malfoy?" Miranda asked, helping Fleur set the table against the woman's protests.
"Draco Malfoy, a bloody Slytherin and a right foul git. He's parents are two of You-Know-Who's biggest followers. His aunt is practically in love with the snake." Ron said, stuffing a biscuit in his mouth.
Miranda winced, "What's this Draco done to you?"
"He was supposed to kill Dumbledore..."
"I thought your Professor Snape killed Dumbledore?" Miranda
Ron glared good-naturedly at her, "Well yeah, but Draco was going to do it. He really was. And he's just a git. Likes to pick on little kids and stuff like that."
Miranda half smiled, "Ron, just because he's a bit of a bully doesn't mean that he's a bad person. He hasn't killed or seriously anyone yet, has he?" She'd known for a long time that there was a stark difference between a bully and demons like Henry Matlock.
"No, but...he will! It's just a matter of time! His parents..."
"Are not the only factor in how someone turns out." Miranda interrupted. "Were you ever kind to him?"
Ron was taken aback by her words, "No, but..."
"No, Ron, no but's. Children aren't always like their parents. You wouldn't blame your parents for your brother Percy being a git, would you?" Miranda said sternly.
Bill chuckled, "I like her. She and Hermione must be great friends."
Miranda smirked, "Thank you, but Hermione would much rather spend time with Ronald. I wouldn't doubt if she didn't even realize I'm gone!"
Ron looked smug at her words, but Fleur nixed any reply his brain was trying to formulate, "Din'er es re'dy."
The meal was...tolerable. The food was better than what they had been eating, but since Miranda now knew the glorious food that came out of the Burrow kitchen, it was lackluster and left Miranda a bit uncomfortable, her stomach aching.
She assured Fleur, of course, that the food was amazing. The was no sense in discouraging the new wife, not when she had watched Bill's face as he had eaten every bite. She was trying, but without the help of her mother-in-law, the attempts were falling terribly short. At least Ron had managed to be equally polite, even if his praises had sounded a little more forced than the others had.
After dinner was over, Miranda excused herself to the loo.
The figure she saw standing in the mirror froze her faster than Petrificus Totalus.
It was her, but her body looked all wrong. She was tiny now, her body, while always slim in the past, seemed to be wasting away.
Her waist was several inches slimmer, and her arms looked too thin, so did her legs. Her cheeks were beginning to hollow themselves out and her fingers looked eerily similar to just bone. Her hands, in fact, were shaking nearly uncontrollably.
All in all, her appearance had become that of a humanoid stork; too tall and too thin to really look all that normal.
How Harry could stand to look at her, much less touch her while they slept baffled her. Hermione had not wasted away so quickly, had she? No, she hadn't. While the other girl had certainly shed a few pounds, according to Miranda's memory, she still looked perfectly human.
Like this, Miranda found herself making comparisons to her brother's new form, and it made her sick. Leaning over the sink, Miranda pinched her eyes closed, swearing to herself that she would remember to eat more, and willing herself not to lose the meal she'd just eaten.
The shaking had to stop though, be it a reaction to how she looked or the signs of another magical outburst, Miranda couldn't afford to lose it. Not here with these people who had been nothing but kind.
When she opened her eyes and stood back up straight, the sight in the mirror made her heart leap to her throat. There was a man standing just behind her right shoulder, with a face she knew far better than her own. "Tom?" She whispered, not wanting to turn around to look at him for the fear that if she did, he wouldn't be there.
His handsome face, that had once looked just like hers, broke into a blinding smile. "Randa."
She nodded, just as excited and terrified as anyone would have felt. She felt a ghost of a hand fit into hers and could hardly breathe. "Are you... dead?"
He grimaced, "Mostly. My body isn't my own anymore."
Miranda licked her dry lips, suddenly feeling chilled, "But...you're still here. You're not totally gone."
He smiled, "No, I'm not. You would know if I was, Miranda." He narrowed his eyes at her, "You don't look well. You're so skinny."
She nodded, "I know. I haven't been eating very much. We've been..."
"Don't, Miranda. Don't tell me where you are or were. I'm not certain He can't read my mind. I don't want to put you in danger." He urged.
Miranda's mood dipped even further, "Maybe I want Him to find me."
His face was stern when she looked back up at him, and it was an expression Miranda had seen countless times in her youth. "Whatever you have planned, you have to do it. You're smart, Miranda. I'm not worth it. Even if you could save me, I'm tainted. I'll never be just me again. That's what I came to tell you. Don't fight for me. I'm not worth it, not anymore."
Miranda gasped and tears started to roll down her face, "Oh, Tom. What has become of us?"
Tom looked anguished, and his free hand reached up to her face only to stop when he remembered that he couldn't really touch her, only their hands, where the line between them blurred, could make contact that they could both feel. "Randa, please, don't cry for me. I'm not worth it. I don't think I ever was. I've never been like you, Miranda. Before He came into my mind. All those years ago, when we were children, that boy died. He didn't end up at the bottom of the stairs on his own. I can't blame that on Volde...well, you know what I'm talking about. That was me, Miranda, not Him. You have to realize that."
"It was Him, Tom, it was!" Miranda whined.
Tom shook his head, "Miranda, he didn't touch me until after you left. He couldn't gain a foothold in me if I hadn't been primed already by my own evil. I did terrible things to protect us, out of revenge for what they did to you. I didn't know why I did it then, but, Miranda, I swear to you that none of those worms made it to adulthood."
"Then it is my fault." She said, her voice hollow.
Anger flared in Tom's ghostly eyes, "I don't ever want to hear you say something like that ever again. This is not your fault. It is mine, and mine alone. It's my fault that those worms laid a hand on you in the first place. I shouldn't have tried to play nice. The only one who gave into Him was me."
"No, I shouldn't have left! I should have fought them harder. I should have fought my…Grindelwald! Me leaving you caused all of this! It's always been my fault! Something is wrong with me!" Miranda yelled, turning to her right only to find that Tom had vanished.
There was a knock on the door, drawing Miranda's eyes away from the vacant stretch of space beside her, "Mi'randa, are you al'vight?"
Fleur, Miranda thought, recognizing the accent and using the airy lilting voice to pull herself back into reality. She wiped her eyes and opened the door, trying to catch her breath, "Yes, I'm fine. I just needed a moment."
Fleur looked her up and down, "You look like you could use a varm sho'ver. Would you 'ike to have one before you go back to the Burrow? It can be 'ard to get any peace there, especially in the loo."
She smiled graciously, "That would be lovely. Thank you so much. There's only so clean Evenesco can get you after a while."
Fleur giggled, "T'at must be awful. Do you have clean clothes?"
"Well, just spelled clean." Miranda said, wincing.
"Then you can wear some of my clothes while I get yours really cleaned." Fleur said, pulling Miranda into her and Bill's bedroom. "You s'ould ask Molly for some of 'Ermoine's clothes so you can take t'em to her."
"I'll do that." Miranda said, taking a stack of clothes from Fleur and pulling out her old clothes. "What do you want me to do with these?"
"I'll take t'em." Fleur said, opening a basket for Miranda to put her stuff in. "They should be ready once you get out of the shower."
"Thank you." Miranda said.
Fleur looked a little sad, "You will leave tonight?" Miranda nodded, "I don't mean to sound...petty, but I wish you cou'd stay. I l'uv Bill, but it gets so lonely 'ere."
Miranda smiled at her, "You know what, I wouldn't mind staying here, but I can't. Harry and Hermione need me."
Fleur smiled, "I unde'stand. I jus' wish it wasn't so."
After her shower, Miranda put on the pale blue dress Fleur had given her to wear with the girl's help, and was amazed that it fit her better than her own clothes did. It didn't hang off of her body, but rather fit her smoothly. It reminded her of the dresses she had worn whilst living with her Papa, the top somewhat binding while the bottom part was flowing.
"You look...pretty." Ron said when she walked into the living area.
Bill whacked him on the back of the head and both women giggled, "T'e dress suits you. I'm so pleased!" Fleur said when they had finished laughing, "I've been a bit of a fashionista since I was a child."
Miranda smoothed the front of it, admiring the intricate needle work, "It's beautiful. Thank you for letting me borrow it. I used to wear things like this when I was young."
"Nonsense, you must 'eep it. I have ot'ers." Fleur insisted.
Miranda felt overwhelmed by the hospitality, though appreciated, it was stifling given how dark her current mood was, "I couldn't."
"'ou will." Fleur said defiantly.
"Well than, thank you." Miranda relented, not finding the strength to continue fighting the French woman. Fleur had been more than hospitable, she was looking for a friend.
"Who is this lovely new creature you lot have been hiding from me?" Said a husky voice that caused a shiver to go down Miranda's spine.
Another Weasley came into the room from behind Bill. Ron whipped his head to glare at his brother, "Charlie, sod off, she's Harry's girlfriend."
"Don't worry, I won't bite...hard." The new Weasley was undeniably handsome, far more built than his brothers while still remaining lean. She knew that Charlie was the dragon tamer, and Miranda got the feeling, from the air of confidence and danger around him, that his bed was ever cold for long.
Even though she loved Harry, she couldn't help but to be taken with Charlie's veritable charm, "I'm Miranda Peverell. I'm to assume that you are Charlie Weasley," She said, holding a hand out to him, intending to have him shake it.
A grin broke across his handsome, but scarred, face as he seemed to recognize that she wasn't immune to him. He planted a kiss on her knuckles. "I am in awe of your beauty fair one. Perhaps I could convince you that I'm better than the Boy-Who-Lived?"
She let laughter bubble from her chest, "Be careful, Firehead, I'm not as docile as I appear." She warned, looking through her lashes at him.
Ron laughed heartily at the stunned look on Charlie's face. "Careful, Charlie, she's a Parseltongue."
Charlie looked even more smitten, and in another lifetime Miranda could have seen herself wholeheartedly engaging in a round of flirtation with him. He laughed heartily, "Is that so, think you could teach me anything?"
Miranda smiled, and committed herself to one evening where she let the naive girl out, the one who knew too much and at the same time knew far too little, the one who had been perilously close to losing her mind and too obliviated to know it. "I might be able to teach you a thing or two. It might be helpful to you. I bet you didn't know that snakes and dragons speak the same language. Did you?"
Fleur called them into the living room and Charlie led her there by the arm. "I don't think I've ever heard that."
She nodded, "It's completely true. I actually wanted a dragon as a pet when I was a child, but you can't command a dragon to do anything they don't want to do, even if you can speak a language they speak. So, my father made me settle for a goldfish that blew colored bubbles. It was almost as entertaining, and much, much easier to care for."
The residents of the room broke into laughter, and it made Miranda feel better to know that the sense of humor Walburga had always treasured in her was still there despite living in such gloomy times.
"Dragons speak more than one language?" Bill asked when the table had calmed.
"Dragons are very smart, they can understand many languages, but can only speak a handful. I encountered a few on travels with my Papa and they've fascinated me ever since. The lore is very extensive." Charlie put a hold on his flirting and the two spent the evening discussing dragons.
When she had had her fill of Fleur's French brewed tea, Miranda stood, "I'd best be on my way. I wouldn't want to wake Molly or the others by getting in too late."
"I'll get the floo powder." Bill said.
Miranda hugged Ron, whispering into his ear, "Last chance, Ron. Are you sure you don't want to come?"
"I'm sure." He said, sighing, "I just need some time."
"Ron, you don't tell a girl like that no!" Charlie exclaimed. He held Miranda's hand, kissing it again, "I'll come with you if you want."
She shook her head but laughed good-naturedly, "Although I'm sure traveling with you wouldn't be anything less than exhilarating, I'm afraid that the invitation must be extended solely to your youngest brother."
He sighed dramatically, "One day, I'll take you to see my dragons. Perhaps you could talk some sense into my Horntail."
"It would be my pleasure." She said, giving Fleur a hug.
Bill held the box of powder out to her, and she took a handful.
"Goodbye, Miranda. Watch after Harry and 'Mione for me, won't you?" Ron said, for the first time looking unsure about his decision.
Miranda fixed him with a strict glare, standing in front of the fireplace, floo powder in her hands, "I will, but not for you, for them."
"I'll come back, I promise, just not yet." He said, sounding like he was more trying to convince himself than Miranda.
She sighed before she threw the powder into the fire. "If you're not careful, Ron, you might never find your way back."
He looked stricken, but she ignored him, shouting, "The Burrow!"
She stumbled out of the fireplace in a rather ungraceful manner, her bag full of cleaned clothes cushioning her fall. "Back so soon?" Said a gruff voice.
Miranda stood, straightening her dress, "Hello, Remus. Don't worry, you won't have to look at me for long."
"Why not?" He asked, his voice softer.
"I'm going back to the forests. I figure no one knows who I am, I can search a little deeper, ask a few more questions." She explained simply.
"Makes sense. When you see Harry again, could you tell him..." Remus seemed to be having a hard time getting out what he wanted to say, and it made Miranda have to stifle the urge to cry for him. Or maybe the urge to cry was her own? She had no idea.
"What Remus? What do you want me to tell Harry?" She urged, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Remus gave her a broken smile, "I have a son."
"Is he healthy?" She asked gently, trying to gauge his feelings about being a father.
A tear fell from his eye, catching in the scruff on his face, "He's human. He took after Tonks."
Miranda smiled, a pang of envy hitting her unexpectedly. "Congratulations then. What is his name?"
"Teddy. Teddy Lupin. After Tonks' father." He said with a chocked laugh.
Miranda hugged him briefly, "Tonks is well then?"
Remus managed a pleased smile, "Yes, she's with him at her parents house. The full moon is tonight, I came here before I head to the packs."
"Peace to you and your new family. I will tell Harry your news." Miranda said.
"Thank you." Remus said, and Miranda stood up, feeling like she had been dismissed.
She hesitated though, "Do you know anything about creatures that can live inside witches or wizards? Dark creatures?"
"Besides the lycanthropy curse or normal muggle parasites?" He asked.
Miranda nodded, trying not to look at him, "Something that the victim might not be aware of though it's tied to their negative emotions. It can look like accidental magic to a point. Something that kills them when they're young."
He frowned at her, "What you're describing sounds like an Obscurus. Essentially a physical manifestation of a magical child's uncontrollable or repressed magic. The child dies, consumed by his or her own power. There haven't been reports of an Obscurial in several lifetimes though. Why are you asking about it?"
"Curious." Miranda choked out, running from the room. She just couldn't handle any questions. She had a name now. She was an Obscurial, and she should have been long dead twice over.
She met Molly by the front door, collecting some more of Hermione's things, and telling her goodbye before walking to the edge of the wards and apparating in the darkness to the forest where she had left Harry and Hermione. She expected the vast emptiness of the trees, but what she didn't expect was the warm body that slammed into hers.
Hope you enjoyed it! As I've said before, I'm adding in some of the lore from Fantastic Beasts in this rewrite, and this chapter puts a name to it for the first time. More changes from the original coming soon, but I am back in class for the week so I have no idea when the next update might be. Your comments are wonderful and greatly appreciated!
-Jenn