Hello, loves! I am, in fact, still alive and well. Work has been intense and we've been doing a lot of overtime, so I haven't had as much time to write, unfortunately. We're adapting, but we'll make it.
As a side note, I have officially published a story for Fred and Tori, if that interests you. Just oneshots and drabbles, considering the plot comes from this story and there would be too much overlap otherwise. It is rated M because I am indecisive, but I'm rating each individual chapter, so don't let that scare you.
So many reviews for the last two chapters and I adore you all!
KattNat: Bill and Charlie remind me a great deal of my brother in that chapter. There's something so annoyingly loveable about brothers. And Mr. Weasley is truly one of my favorites — I agree that we could all use the excitement and magic he sees in the world. Thank you for reviewing — for this story and for the previous two. I truly appreciate you taking the time!
Lorigoode91: Thank you for reviewing! I cannot say much about Nessa and George for the sake of not wanting to give things away, but I do truly adore them. They are the best. Hard times are ahead, but they have each other so we're here for that — that may be an answer to your statement in itself lol.
Gi-L-Ha: Thank you for reviewing! I am glad you are enjoying the story and I hope to keep it that way! Enjoy!
Bookcozy: GEORGE AND NESSA…I can barely contain myself when it comes to writing them. They are swoon-worthy. If every man were like George Weasley, we'd be off to the races. Fred and Tori, of course, are forever in my heart as well. Their time will come — I'm a happy ending sort of girl. Also, I so agree with Mrs. Weasley's treatment of the twins and the shop — she has so little faith in them and it'll be a plot point in the next few stories. The twins were always so nonchalant about it in the books, but I just can't imagine that any human being is capable of ignoring that kind of disapproval from their mother. Even though it is very clear that she loves them dearly. Her saying that all her children became prefects did lead to my favorite George quote in the entire book, however, so we'll let her off for now.
The quote in case you forgot: "What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?"
He has the sass.
Chapter Seven
Mr. Weasley woke them after only a few hours sleep. Nessa felt even worse than she had the morning before when they'd left for the Cup. She should have slept more instead of having some sort of anxiety attack out on the campground all night. Despite his own lack of sleep, George was looking particularly chipper, and she glared at him for looking so cheerful when she felt near death.
They were quick to leave, Mr. Weasley's concern that his wife would find out what had happened before they could make it back left him no time to waste. He packed the tents using magic, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr. Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague "Merry Christmas."
"He'll be alright," said Mr. Weasley quietly, spotting Nessa's alarmed look as they marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disoriented for a while…and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."
She supposed it was, but it was still unnerving to see. The brain was such an important, fragile structure and it was alarming to realize how easily a wizard could just…manipulate it.
They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay, and when they reached it, they found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keep of the Portkeys, all clamoring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. The Dark Mark could no longer be seen high above the forest, but its impact was clear, even now. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. They walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow, talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.
"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"
Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.
"Arthur — I've been so worried — so worried —"
She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, Nessa saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.
"You're alright," Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, "you're alive…Oh, boys…"
And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.
"Ouch! Mum — you're strangling us —"
"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.L.s? Oh Fred…George…"
"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr. Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back toward the house. Tori was snickering at the twins as they rubbed at their heads with matching grimaces. "Bill," Mr. Weasley added in an undertone, "pick up that paper, I want to see what it says…"
When they were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr. Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr. Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder.
"I knew it," said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Ministry blunders…culprits not apprehended…lax security…Dark wizards running unchecked…national disgrace…Who wrote this? Ah…of course…Rita Skeeter."
"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't perfectly stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans —"
"Do us a favor, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up."
"I'm mentioned," said Mr. Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.
"Where?" spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on her tea and whisky. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"
"Not by name," said Mr. Weasley. "Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.'" said Mr. Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods…well, there certainly will be rumors now she's printed that."
He heaved a deep sigh and informed them all that he'd have to go into work in order to help smooth things over. Percy was all too happy to go with him, so that he could give his report to Mr. Crouch. After her brother's not so subtle look at Ron and Hermione that suggested he wanted to speak with them privately, Nessa and Tori excused themselves in order to get some more sleep, grumbling about it being the crack of dawn still and way too early to be worrying about owls from Hedwig and Ministry politics.
Several hours later, they were awoken — rather rudely — by Fred and George blundering into the room and flopping onto their beds.
"Ew, George, get off me," Tori grumbled, struggling away from him. "Why are you all sweaty?"
"We were playing Quidditch while you lazy bums slept the morning away," said Fred. ignoring Nessa's sleepy protests and pulling her into a very sweaty hug. She made a disgusted noise and pushed him away from her.
"Gross, Fred," she griped at him. "Go take a shower — you smell like a sock."
"That's very rude, munchkin," he said with feigned offense. "I wonder if you'd say the same thing if I were George."
"I would if George smelled like a sock. Get off my bed, you oaf."
"Seconded," Tori said, kicking George repeatedly in an attempt to push him off. He just grinned and leaned back against the headboard, resting his hands behind his head. Tori huffed and got up to sit at the desk by the window instead. "I can still smell the two of you over here, if you were curious," she said rudely.
"We weren't," they said together.
"Please tell us what you want, so that we can go back to sleep," Nessa groaned.
"Sorry, no more sleeping for you," Fred said, booping her playfully on the nose. "You've had quite enough of that for one day —"
"Hardly," Tori snorted.
"We came to ask if you know what Mum got us dress robes for," George said, moving to sit in the center of Tori's bed now that she'd vacated it.
"Dress robes?" Nessa said. "What are dress robes?"
"Robes that you wear to parties," Tori said, brows furrowed. "Special occasions. Maybe she thinks if she gets the two of you dress robes, you'll behave more maturely."
Fred snorted.
"Not a chance," he said pointedly. "Besides, she got Ron and Harry some too. Did you two get any?"
"You aren't going to go away until we check, are you?" Nessa said, rubbing her eyes in irritation.
"Not likely, no," George said, grinning at her from across the room.
Tori and Nessa shared a dark look, but moved to the pile of school materials Mrs. Weasley had piled at the end of each of their beds. Nessa moved aside the open envelope she'd set aside before the World Cup to view the books underneath. There were only two: The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 and Ancient Runes Made Easy. Because she was feeling irritated with Fred's continued presence on her bed, she chucked them at him one at a time. He caught one of them, but swore profusely when the other hit him on the nose, sending Tori into a fit of laughter.
She paused curiously before the long box that was at the bottom. Frowning, she pulled it toward herself and opened it. Folded carefully inside was a dark green dress made of a mixture of tulle and applique. The bottom portion sparkled prettily as she pulled it from the box and held it into the light.
"What the hell?" Tori said from across from her.
Nessa looked up to see Tori holding a dress of her own. She was quite surprised by Mrs. Weasley's dress for her — she'd expected something more conservative, but the dress actually fit Tori's personality rather well. It was a one-shouldered bodycon dress that was covered in sequins from top to bottom, and was a bright, eye-catching red. The dress itself would probably fall mid-thigh, but attached to the dress was a tulle train of the same color that would fall to her ankles.
"Why would we need dresses like this for the school year?" Tori said, though she was eyeing the dress in her hands appreciatively. "Do you think it has something to do with what Percy and Bagman were talking about?"
"Can't imagine what else it could be for," Nessa said. "Although whatever excuse Dumbledore has for making us wear this is cause for concern."
"Lockhart can't come back, can he?" Tori said, suddenly horrified. "I am not going to some disgusting Valentine's ball —"
Nessa tuned them out with a roll of her eyes, folding the dress neatly back into its box. Whatever it was for, she wasn't all that concerned to find out. As long as it didn't put her brother in danger, she could care less what event Dumbledore was hosting at Hogwarts, and if they had to have nice clothing for it, she assumed she was safe in this case. Unless Voldemort was going to be hiding behind a coat rack, anyway.
As the three of them started joking loudly and throwing a Quaffle back and forth, she accepted that she wasn't going back to sleep any time soon. She wasn't particularly happy about it, but she'd at least slept enough that she felt like a more alive human being, so she had the self-control to avoid telling them all to sod off. Instead, she pulled her Hogwarts letter toward her and looked curiously through what was in it; her reminder letter on when to return and another piece of paper as well as something heavy weighing on the bottom.
Frowning, she pulled out the extra piece of paper curiously — Tori hadn't mentioned anything additional in her own letter. As she read, her entire body tensed with shock and her mouth fell open in surprise. Or horror, maybe. Maybe she was having a nightmare?
Dear Miss Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to serve as Prefect for Gryffindor House. Your school record shows that you have exhibited the bravery, honor, and loyalty that Gryffindors have long been commended for.
We are certain that you will continue to be a model for your peers and take your new responsibilities seriously. Enclosed please find your Prefects Badge, which should be worn on your school robes at all times.
The Head Boy and Girl will be providing further direction on your responsibilities and expectations for your new role on the 1st of September. Please report to the head of the Hogwarts Express at 11 o'clock in order to receive further instruction.
Congratulations!
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Head of Gryffindor House
Deputy Headmistress
She gaped at the words a second longer before she lunged forward for the envelope again, nearly knocking Fred over in the process.
"What is your problem?" he groused, picking up the letter she'd abandoned as she ripped into the envelope it had come in, so hastily that it tore completely down the side. "Have they told you that Harry's been —"
There was a long moment of silence from Fred as he stared at the paper in front of him and Nessa stared in horror at the badge that was sitting in the envelope. It was confirmation of the last thing she wanted — or needed, truth be told — and she nearly decided to drop out there and then. And then Fred looked up at her and met her horrified gaze with his own just before he fell into laughter so loud that both Tori and George jumped.
"It's not funny, Fred!" Nessa yelled indignantly. Fred was roaring loudly still, clutching the paper in his hand so hard that it was crumpling and his body bowing forward from the force of his laughter. "She can't be serious! This is a joke!"
"What the hell is happening?" Tori said, looking like she was sure if she should be alarmed or if she wanted to laugh at how hard Fred was laughing.
Nessa kicked Fred hard in the leg in an attempt to get him to stop laughing.
"Can you stop being a prat for two seconds?" she snapped. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
Fred was gulping air in through his lungs, clearly trying to get himself under control, but the moment his eyes met hers again, he was sent into another round of laughter. He waved his hands back and forth in front of him, his face red, as he tried to get himself back under control.
"This — is — quite possibly — the — best — day — of — my — life," he gasped through his laughter. "You — should — see — your — face."
She glared at him and opened her mouth to snap back, but George interrupted her.
"Does one of you mind clueing us in on what's happening?" he said, raising an eyebrow at his twin, who was refusing to look at Nessa now for fear of losing it again. "Before Fred wets himself, preferably."
"Oh, you aren't going to believe this, Georgie," Fred said, suddenly bouncing with the excitement of telling his twin what was happening. "I've got to be dreaming —"
Nessa pinched him and he swore, glaring at her. It was completely diminished by the fact that he was still grinning, and gave her little to no satisfaction at having injured him.
"If someone does not tell me what the fu —"
Nessa pulled out the badge before Tori could get irritated further, and the room went utterly silent again, staring at it in shock. Looking at it in front of her felt more surreal and she suddenly couldn't tell if she was dreaming. God, hopefully she was. Who's idea was this?
The badge was relatively small — maybe she could hide it under her robes? — and was colored in the red and gold of Gryffindor. A roaring lion took up the center, but it was the giant silver P that really made her want to laugh. Because there was no chance that this was her real life.
She was friends with the three most infamous rule-breakers in the school. She was dating one of them. For another, her brother was a lunatic, chasing around after giant snakes and any lunatic that tickled his fancy. She should have been out of the running by mere association alone. She barely even talked to anyone — and when she did it wasn't typically to say anything nice because she was usually telling someone off. Not to mention that the only time she had ever been in charge of anything or anyone were the times that her brother was in danger. She did well under pressure, sure, but she didn't like it — she'd sooner live under a rock and read her life away before she'd choose to be a prefect.
And when Percy found out…
No, no one was saying a word to Percy that was for certain.
"I'm sorry," Tori said, holding up a hand, despite the fact that no one was talking still. Her grin was wide. "Is that what I think it is?"
Fred was practically shaking from his attempt not to laugh again.
"They made you a prefect?" George said, staring at the badge in her hand as if it were quite possibly the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen.
The words jolted Nessa from her surprise, but it did nothing for her horror. She turned frantically to Tori and held it out to her.
"What is this?" she exclaimed.
Tori jumped away from it as if it were on fire, her hands up in placation.
"Don't touch me with that thing, alright —"
Nessa rolled her eyes so hard she was amazed they didn't roll right out of her head.
"It's not a disease," she snapped.
"You don't know that," Tori said seriously. "I mean McGonagall's clearly lost her wits. I'll bet you anything she was a prefect once. The badge probably just sucked all the fun right out of her."
"Why would they give me this, Victoria?" Nessa said, shaking the badge at her. "I'm friends with the lot of you! No one in their right mind could think this is a good idea!"
Fred sniggered.
"Maybe McGonagall thought you'd give George and I detention," he said. "Keep us in line. How preposterous."
Nessa looked at him, hard, for several long seconds.
"Fred, there is nothing that I would love to do more than give you and George detention," she snapped. As if this weren't entirely obvious — the two of them drove her up the wall on a good day, worse when they were together. Giving them detention might actually be the best part of her year. "Besides, that's really not the point. I could give you a hundred detentions and it wouldn't make any difference. That cannot be the reason."
"You can't give detention to someone you're snogging," Fred said, as if he hadn't heard the rest of what she'd said at all.
"I can do whatever I bloody well please —"
"He's horrible at it, isn't he?" Fred interrupted suddenly, making her splutter in embarrassment at the question. Fred patted her shoulder consolingly, an exaggerated look of sorrow crossing his features. "You should have taken a chance with me when you had the chance —"
"There was never a chance," she deadpanned.
"There's always a chance, munchkin," he said, batting his eyelashes at her. "Say the word and we'll leave Georgie behind —"
Nessa snorted when one of Tori's pillows hit Fred directly on the side of the head. George was smirking at him, and Fred looked like he might retaliate, but there was a knock on the door that interrupted him. Nessa was still holding the prefect badge when the door started to open. Panicked, she chucked it hastily at Tori, who swore in surprise and chucked it under the bed just before Mrs. Weasley came into the room with a pile of laundry in her hands. She paused immediately at the sight of the four of them, and the motherly smile on her face morphed immediately to the narrowing of her eyes.
"What are you lot up to now?" she said, looking at them suspiciously.
Nessa conceded that they did look rather guilty. Or at least she and Tori did. Tori had barely managed to lean back against the desk before Mrs. Weasley had come in, and her smile looked a little forced, her eyes flicking toward the bed once to make sure the badge was truly covered. Fred and George, however, gave Nessa a great deal of anxiety, their evil grins spreading so quickly that she was giving them both hard, wide-eyed looks of warning not to say a word.
"Nothing, mother, nothing," Fred said dismissively, his grin widening when Nessa turned to glare at him. "We were just discussing how very exciting this year is going to be."
"Yes," George said, the twinkle in his eye as he looked across the room at her not at all distracting this time around. In fact, it was rage-inducing. "What with this event coming up at Hogwarts —"
" — and Nessa's good news, of course," Fred finished, his innocent expression at odds with the ferocious glare she was giving him and his brother.
Mrs. Weasley paused in separating the piles of clothing in her arms to look at her. Nessa tensed at the look of curious expectation on her face. She was going to kill the twins.
"Dear?"
Nessa looked imploringly at Tori, but her best friend was covering her mouth with her hand and looking as though she were on the verge of a laughing fit. Every single one of them were traitors.
She cleared her throat and opened her mouth to respond, but the words would not come out. Mrs. Weasley would absolutely lose her mind if she knew she was a prefect. She'd probably throw a party and talk about how proud she was, and then she'd tell everyone in the family. Percy finding out would be horrific — hours of discussions on how to make an impression and be a role model would make her wish she was dead.
"I — er —" Nessa said, weighing her options despite the fact that Mrs. Weasley was starting to look concerned by her lack of response at this point. Her eyes met George's briefly, and she hated how amused he looked at her hesitation to say anything to his mother. Maybe that was why she said the stupidest thing she possibly could have in that moment — to pay him back for being such an ass. "Well, it's just that — er — I'm dating George."
Nevermind the fact that this fact would not be news to George as Fred had implied. Or that it made no sense that George would be teasing her about that at all. But the shock factor might distract Mrs. Weasley just enough not to think about it at all.
There was a long, shocked pause in the room — from more than Mrs. Weasley. Fred and Tori were gaping at her as if she'd just done something incredibly stupid. George coughed to hide his laugh at her changing the subject entirely, and there was something like disappointment in his eyes when he mouthed, Rookie mistake, at her. She didn't know what that meant at first, but then Mrs. Weasley dropped the entire load of laundry she'd still held in her hands, her hands coming to rest on her cheeks as she squealed delightedly.
Nessa had never heard a woman Mrs. Weasley's age squeal so excitedly and suddenly she was regretting not just saying she was a prefect. This felt like a much bigger deal now and she wasn't sure that it had before now.
"Oh, Nessa, that's just wonderful," she said as if she'd never heard anything so exciting in all her life. "George — oh, I thought so, of course — oh, I'm all of a tizzy," she said, flinging herself excitedly at her and Fred in a bone-crushing hug. "Oh this is just so wonderful!" she said, ignoring Nessa's gasp of surprise, Tori's snickers, and Fred's desperate attempts to escape. "You make such a beautiful couple —"
"Mum, for Merlin's sake, wrong twin," Fred said in exasperation when his mother's hold and excited tittering did not cease.
She released them almost immediately at these words, but she did not look embarrassed at the confusion between her sons at all, and instead, flung herself across the room to envelope George in a hug. Despite his head cracking against the headboard behind him, he was half-laughing, half rolling his eyes at his mother's theatrics.
"Mum, please, you're going to hurt yourself," he said in exasperation. "Or me."
She released him finally, but she still seemed as if she could hardly believe what she'd been told. Nessa felt like she was watching her own giddiness in someone else and she wasn't sure if she should laugh or not.
"Oh, this is just so wonderful," she repeated, clapping happily. "Wait until I tell your father —"
Nessa stared in shock as she fluttered out of the room, still mumbling excitedly, and smiling at them all as if she'd gotten the best news and nothing would ever top it. Fred and Tori waited several seconds after she'd left before they fell into giggles.
"You should see the look on your face," Tori gasped at Nessa through her laughter. "I mean, what did you expect she would do?"
George was just shaking his head at her, his face wide with a grin, and she wanted to throw something at him because his grin was both somehow endearing and smug all at once.
"I should have just told her I was a prefect," Nessa said eventually, sending the three of them into another round of laughter.
The following week before returning to Hogwarts had a sort of end-of-summer gloom hovering above them all.
Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night. Mrs. Weasley was clearly concerned for their well-being as she continuously watched the clock every evening to see if the hands with their faces on it would move in the direction of home. She'd been on edge a great deal of the time since they'd gotten back from the World Cup.
Her happiness about her and George's budding relationship seemed to be a distant memory at this point, although she remembered every time she laid eyes on them. It had taken her several days to stop sighing happily at the sight of them sitting next to each other. She'd gotten used to the idea pretty quickly, although her excitement seemed to still be largely intact. Nessa was relieved that she seemed so on board with the idea of her and George, but she did have to grant George the fact that his read on how his mother would react had been completely spot-on.
She'd been keeping a very close eye on the two of them any time they were "alone." And to her, alone meant anywhere she, Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, or Percy were not. Being in the twins' room with them and Tori had become an ordeal. An exercise in patience, for both her and for George. Mrs. Weasley had a tendency of popping in to check on them every fifteen minutes as if she half expected to find them in a compromising position with Fred and Tori sitting right next to them. Something that was made all the more irritating for the twins because they had been spending what little time they had left of the summer working on order forms for WWW. Every time their mother made a surprise appearance, it was an effort to hide all damning evidence before she could notice. On one occasion, they'd had no time at all before the door had opened and Tori had been forced to shove an entire piece of paper in her mouth with Fred's quick excuse that she'd shoved her face with chocolate.
It might have been due to this that they had chosen to work on the order forms in the living room while the rest of the family lounged about the night before their return to school. They'd sat at the table in the furthest corner of the room, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment. Meanwhile, the rest of the family sat around the fire.
"Are the two of you going to pay us any attention at all?" Tori huffed, leaning her chair on the back two legs, using the wall behind her to hold herself up.
"No," said Fred distractedly.
Nessa, who had long given up on trying to converse with the twins while they were working, huffed a laugh from behind her book. Tori did not find Fred's candor even partially amusing.
"What is even taking the two of you so long?" she griped, letting the legs of her chair hit the ground with a light thud. "You already did this once. You should know what it looks like by now."
"We're implementing some changes," he answered vaguely. "Talk to Vanessa."
Tori huffed and rolled her eyes.
"She's reading."
George, without taking his eyes off of the parchment he and Fred were taking turns scribbling on, reached over and pulled the book out of Nessa's hands.
"George!" Nessa snapped when he closed it and set it on the table.
"There, now she's not," George said, ignoring his girlfriend's distaste.
Tori smirked at Nessa's ferocious glare toward the twins.
"The two of you have absolutely no respect for —"
"Is this prefect Nessa talking?" Fred interrupted with a grin. "Are you going to give us detention?"
Nessa growled at him.
He was still far too amused at her new status and took every opportunity he had to poke fun at her about it. There wasn't a single one of them who understood how she'd been made prefect, but the twins were far more excited than she'd expected them to be. Aside from their obvious distaste for the role and their "disappointment" that she followed the rules so often that McGonagall had even considered her at all, they seemed to be under the impression that having a prefect within their inner circle could only work well for them. Particularly in terms of selling their products within the castle and "getting into the prefects' bathroom, of course."
"Don't say it so loud," she whisper-yelled. She had worked very hard over the last week to keep her new Prefect status a secret, despite the twins' sly jokes and hints every night at dinner. "And quit acting like I won't give you detention or I'll do it just for spite."
"That's an abuse of power, love," George said teasingly.
Nessa scoffed at him.
"That's rich, coming from you," she said. "You haven't followed the rules a day in your life —"
"A prankster and a prefect," Tori said, sighing dreamily, causing Fred to laugh. "Who would have thought?"
"How scandalous," George said, wiggling his eyebrows at Nessa suggestively. He laughed when she smacked him on the shoulder in reprimand and flushed scarlet.
He kissed her on the cheek before going back to whatever he was working on with Fred, pushing the book in between the two of them and out of Nessa's reach with a smirk. She rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms and giving Tori an exasperated look.
"Well, they took my book," she said, as if Tori were entirely to blame for this. "So let's talk about whatever you wanted to talk about."
"I don't have anything specific to talk about. I just wanted someone to start talking to me."
Nessa stared at her in disbelief for a long moment, unsure of what to say to that, and maybe slightly irritated that she was no longer reading her book for absolutely no valid reason in the world. But before she could explain to her best friend why, exactly, it was rude for her to whine for no good reason, there was a small POP and Percy was walking into the living room from the kitchen. Stalking importantly, was more like it.
Nessa shared a look with Tori, who was aware of Nessa's dislike for Percy and responded with a snort. The only thing she could really be grateful for at this point was that they were returning to Hogwarts tomorrow and she had managed to keep her new status as a prefect a secret from him and Mrs. Weasley. It had been a difficult endeavor, too, because Tori and the twins kept trying to bring it up at every dinner. Nessa was running out of important news she could make up on the fly. She deserved more credit for being friends with the three of them.
"How was work, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked her son anxiously. "Dinner is on the table for you."
"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told them importantly, hardly seeming interested at all about his dinner. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."
"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny, who was mending her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.
"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."
Mrs. Weasley hardly seemed to be listening to her son — not that Nessa entirely blamed her, really. They'd been at the mercy of Percy's "complaining" all week. Truthfully, Nessa couldn't tell if he was really all that upset about the uproar from the World Cup. He didn't seem to take the threat all too seriously and he seemed more excited to prove himself to Mr. Crouch than he did anything else. Nessa half-suspected he might actually see the entire thing as some sort of blessing for him, some sort of way to move his way up the Ministry.
God, he annoyed her. She hoped his love for the Ministry was just a phase.
Mrs. Weasley stared at the grandfather clock in the corner. Nessa liked this most of all of the magical items in the Weasley home — it was practical and gave her a sort of piece of mind to watch as the hands engraved in one of the Weasley family's names rotated around the face. There were no numerals on the face, but descriptions of where each family member might be. "Home", "school", and "work" were there, but there was also "traveling", "lost", "hospital", "prison", and in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, "mortal peril."
Nessa did not want to know under what circumstances the hands would move to mortal peril. As it stood, nine of the hands — Mr. Weasley had added Tori's name to the clock upon her moving in with them — were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Mr. Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to "work." Mrs. Weasley sighed.
"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," she said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."
"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first —"
"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mrs. Weasley, flaring up at once.
"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"
"Well, it is a bit long, dear," said Mrs. Weasley gently. "If you'd just let me —"
"No, Mum."
Tori snorted and rolled her eyes at the two of them. Bill was always very patient with his mother's insistence on cutting his hair, but it was a conversation that Tori found a great deal of amusement.
Rain lashed against the living room window. Hermione was reading one of her new textbooks. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Her brother sat in the corner polishing his Firebolt for what felt like the hundredth time this summer. The twins were hardly paying attention to anyone at all, still scribbling madly and whispering to each other. Tori and Nessa were the only ones who were not currently preoccupied and she did not know what else to do with herself if it wasn't reading her book.
She'd been avoiding her school books, so that she didn't have to think about the fact that this was her O.W.L. year because she was not entirely prepared, truly. She'd never really given much thought to what she might do with herself after school either. She'd spent so much of her time focusing on Harry that she'd hardly even bothered thinking about anything else, but she knew McGonagall would ask them once they'd returned. Career counseling was just another part of this year that she wasn't entirely sure about.
"Do you have any idea what you're going to tell McGonagall you want to do with the rest of your life?"
Tori gave her an incredulous look at the suddenness of the question.
"I don't know," she said eventually, although she didn't appear to believe that was true. "Magizoology, probably. I thought about being an Unspeakable, you know, but I don't think I can keep a secret."
Nessa snorted.
"You can't," she said dryly. Last year alone, Tori had told three of Nessa's secrets to Ginny or the twins. Or both. "I don't understand why that's a question for you, honestly."
Tori rolled her eyes.
"You've been very grumpy since you found out you were a Prefect."
Nessa shushed her harshly, causing the twins to pause briefly in their writing to smirk at her.
"Don't say it so loud!" Nessa whispered. "I managed to keep Percy from finding out all week."
"Only because he has his head so far up Crouch's arse," Tori said with a smirk. "He could care less what any of us are doing. But anyway, what are you going to tell McGonagall?"
"I have no idea," she said honestly. "How are you supposed to know what you want to do with the rest of your life at sixteen?"
"Fair point," Tori said with a shrug. "I like animals, so I picked Magizoology. These two dunderheads like jokes, they open a joke shop. You like Potions…perhaps you and Snape can work together in his creepy dungeon and make eyes at each other."
Nessa rolled her eyes.
"We do not make eyes at each other," she said in a long suffering voice. "That's disgusting — he's my Professor —"
"He wouldn't be in this case, but sure," Tori smirked.
"Besides, I like Potions, but I don't want to teach children," Nessa said, the horror of the thought causing her nose to scrunch in distaste. Teachers did not get paid enough for the amount of patience their profession required. And she simply did not have the patience for annoying children. "And making potions everyday is fun, but it's not terribly exciting day to day. If I were a Potioneer, I'd get bored too quickly. You can only make the same potion so many times before it gets redundant."
"It got redundant five years ago," Tori said with an eye roll. "You'd better think of something before we get back though. McGonagall is supposed to speak to us about it within the first month. And these two told her they wanted to open a joke shop instead of another profession…she stared at them over her glasses for ten minutes. You'd have a fit if she did that to you."
She would. She highly suspected that most people would have though to be honest, or McGonagall wouldn't have perfected the action. She was the only one of her professors that made her feel truly nervous, strictly speaking.
"What are you two up to?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, causing Nessa to jump and Tori to snicker.
She was looking directly at the twins, her eyes sharp, as they continued writing away, clearly not able to muster much concern for the situation. Nessa eyed them curiously to see what excuse they'd come up with in this case.
"Homework," said Fred vaguely.
It took a great deal of effort on Nessa's part not to react to this because it was a horrid lie. They were on vacation for one thing, and they'd just taken their O.W.L.s. The likelihood they'd been assigned homework over holiday was low.
Weren't they supposed to be good liars?
"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mrs. Weasley immediately.
"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," said George.
"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of re-starting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"
"Now, Mum," said Fred, finally looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"
Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley.
"Oh, your father's coming!" she exclaimed before disappearing into the kitchen.
"The two of you really should be better about hiding the order forms," Nessa said quietly with an eye roll. "And for two people who make fun of me for being a bad liar, that was truly atrocious. Who has homework after O.W.L.s?"
"Definitely not blokes who got three O.W.L.s," Tori snorted in agreement.
"The two of you should really be spending more time worrying about your own exams than judging us, you know," Fred said dismissively. "I've got money that Nessa will break down in tears by the end of the first month."
Nessa kicked him hard under the table and he swore loudly, just as his mother was coming back into the room with Mr. Weasley.
"Fred Weasley! You watch your mouth!"
Fred gave a smirking Nessa a glare before George managed to recapture his twin's attention.
"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," Mr. Weasley told his wife as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth with his dinner tray. He was toying unenthusiastically with his somewhat shriveled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."
"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy swiftly.
"Say, Percy, how often do you have to clean off your nose after a hard day at work?" Tori said loudly, her voice drawling and arrogant.
Fred and George snickered as Percy's ears turned red, and Nessa was forced to hide her grin behind her glass of water. Charlie gave Tori a thumbs up behind his mother's back when she turned to give her adopted daughter a hard look. Mr. Weasley seemed to agree with Tori to some degree, however.
"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," he said irritably. "There'd be a week's worth of headlines about his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."
"I thought we were all agreed that the elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.
Nessa bristled immediately.
"If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" said Hermione angrily.
"And at no point did we agree that Winky was irresponsible," Nessa added coldly.
"A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants —"
"His slave, you mean!" Hermione said, her voice rising passionately. "He didn't pay Winky, did he?"
"And I hardly think he deserves to be such a high-ranking Ministry official if that's how he sees fit to treat those he considers to be beneath him," Nessa said hotly. "She didn't do anything wrong in protecting herself. She should have rights, you know! She breathes just like the rest of us."
Percy took great offense to her first statement, swelling like a bullfrog at her assessment of his superior, whom he believed could do no wrong. Nessa straightened in her seat, prepared to argue with him further, when George placed his free hand on her knee and squeezed gently. Her gaze flicked to him briefly, but he appeared mostly caught up in what was happening in front of him, although he was clearly listening to their conversation.
"Alright, now, that's enough!" said Mrs. Weasley before Percy could say anything further. "I think you'd all better go upstairs and make sure you've packed properly. Come on now, all of you…"
Nessa huffed, shooting a final glare at Percy before following the twins and Tori up to Fred and George's room.
"You won't have to figure out what you want to do with your life if you kill Percy, you know," Tori said, giving Nessa a sharp look. "A trip to Azkaban would solve all your problems."
Fred snorted.
"You can work on legislation for house-elves —"
"If I'd be bored with making the same potions repeatedly, then reading over old, patriarchal Wizard law would certainly send me off the deep end," Nessa said immediately.
Not to mention the politics within the Ministry. Mr. Weasley had barely said anything at the World Cup and he looked like he was being run into the ground. Not to mention dealing with reporters like Rita Skeeter, who were clearly more interested in causing drama than doing good. Nessa was not entirely sure she wanted to work in the Ministry at all.
"You could be a hitwitch," Fred said seriously.
"A what?"
"A hitwitch," he repeated, flinging himself onto his bed unceremoniously. "Track down and apprehend wizards and witches who are on the run from the Ministry. Might help with your anger issues."
"I do not have anger issues," she said indignantly. "Tori has anger issues."
"It's possible for more than one of us to have anger issues, you know," Tori said dryly, clearly not at all offended by this assessment of her personality. "But McGonagall might not like hearing that, you know…with you being a prefect and all —"
"Shut up, the whole lot of you," Nessa snarled at them and sent Fred and Tori into a fit of laughter.
George was smirking at her, raising an eyebrow at her as he came to lounge on his bed next to her.
"All right, let's hear it then," he said casually, crossing his arms and looking at her expectantly.
"What are you on about?" Nessa said to him with a confused expression.
"You're very upset about this whole prefect thing," he said. "What's the problem?"
Nessa gave him an incredulous look.
"Did you hit your head or something, George?" she said, causing him to chuckle. Fred and Tori were arguing about whether they should play Exploding Snap or Gobstones and were clearly not listening to their conversation at all. They seemed to find her distaste for her newfound prefect status more amusing than anything else anyway. "You are asking me what's wrong with being a prefect?"
"The irony is not lost on me, love," he said with a grin and a shrug. "But yes I am asking. It's fairly clear why I would not want to be a prefect."
She rolled her eyes at him and crossed her own arms.
"I just — it's not — I don't know why it bothers me," she said truthfully. "I just never expected to be one. I'm friends with you three, so it hardly makes the most sense. Harry breaks every law in the book and I've very stupidly allowed him to do so —"
"You don't allow him to," George laughed. "In fact, you yell at him every time he breaks the rules —"
"I do not —"
"And you're always protecting the younger students —"
"Everyone should be doing that —"
" — and you don't pull pranks with any of us anyway."
"You're making it sound like I should be a prefect," she said petulantly.
He eyed her shrewdly for a moment.
"You should be," he said simply, laughing at her when she gaped at him. "Besides, I think it could be good for you."
"Good for me," she repeated as if he'd been speaking Spanish.
"Yes, good for you," he grinned. "It's outside of your comfort zone, clearly, and it forces you to be a leader —"
"'Force' is probably not the word to use to convince me that this is a good thing, George," she said with an eye roll.
Maybe that was the reason it bothered her. Being a leader. She didn't consider herself a leader — she was quiet and reserved and people didn't always take her seriously unless she threatened them with her wand. Being a leader was…something unknown to her. It was frightening, really, because being a leader meant she could lead a large group of people in an entirely wrong direction. Or she could make a fool of herself in front of other people.
Harry was a leader. Tori was a leader. The twins were leaders. She was not a leader.
"I'm surprised you aren't calling me a goody-two-shoes, honestly," she said as a way to steer the conversation away from her fears entirely.
George hummed.
"Yes, well, I still have nightmares about telling McGonagall I wanted to take her to the Shrieking Shack, so I'll refrain in this instance," he quipped. "Do you think you're a goody-two-shoes?"
"Isn't that what being a prefect implies?"
"You've got a wild side to you, love," he grinned. "Just don't let McGonagall catch you hexing older students for bullying instead of taking House points and you'll be fine."
She snorted and hit him on the shoulder.
"I expected you to care more that you're dating a prefect, honestly," she said.
His grin widened and his eyes twinkled in a way that typically implied he was about to embarrass someone with a wholly inappropriate joke.
"Yes, well, just because I wouldn't like it doesn't mean that I'm not proud of you for managing it. Goody-two-shoes or no, I like you the way you are, sweetheart," he said, confusing her entirely because the words themselves were very sweet, but he still looked like he might — "Besides, I can appreciate the scandal of it all. It'll be a bit like I'm corrupting you, you know. Sneaking around after curfew, snogging in broom closets, skipping classes to snog in broom closets, of course — not even in my wildest dreams could I have thought up a better fantasy."
She tried very hard not to flush at the hint of suggestion in his voice.
"I'm not skipping classes," she said instead because she couldn't think of anything else to say when he was looking at her like that. "I have O.W.L.s."
"We'll see."
She snorted.
"I will give you detention, George," she said, only half-joking.
His grin did not waver.
"I look forward to it, love."
"You are so weird," she laughed softly.
"Are the two of you going to keep mooning at each other or are you going to play Gobstones with us?"
Nessa rolled her eyes and looked over at Tori and Fred, who were clearly growing impatient with them. George grinned and placed a hasty kiss on her mouth.
"Congratulations, love," he said seriously and made her sigh happily. "Now, no more pouting — it'll ruin my fantasies."
Nessa was tempted to ask what that meant, but she chose to spare herself the embarrassment of finding out exactly what he was thinking because she was almost certain that it would be entirely inappropriate. If the lopsided grin he was giving her was any indication at all.
So, instead, she chose to worry about the prefect issue later and followed George onto the floor to play Gobstones with her friends.
I wasn't sure how much I liked this chapter when I was writing it originally, but I feel much better about it now that I'm re-reading it. I'm here for the contradictions of Nessa's personality, really. And we swoon for a supportive George.
Props to anyone who can guess what career Nessa will choose. I've only hinted at it a couple times.
See you next weekend - for sure this time!