Not Quite Paradise

George Weasleys Girlfriend

(also known as Jana)

2002
First published on http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_Paradise
 Not Quite Paradise

Prequel to the Paradise Series

Spoilers The first four canon books by JKR as well as Trouble in Paradise and Paradise Lost by
AngieJ (also known as Ebony Elizabeth).
Summary In early 2004, Voldemort has been defeated and the wizarding world is carrying on peace-
fully... or so it seems. Secrets, lies and dark pasts hold the key to the friendships built on
years of trust. Will the friendships crumble under the pressure or carry the weight?
This is a prequel to AngieJ/Ebonys Trouble in Paradise. Its strongly suggested that you
read as much of that as you can before reading this story. Done? Good. This fic takes place
in early 2004. Most of it will center on the Weasley twins and the Gryffindor Chasers, but its
not as though the Terrific Trio will be absent. I really hope you enjoy reading this!
Disclaimer Anything created by Ms. J. K. Rowling belongs to her; everything else, to me.
Disclaimer This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Rain-
coast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended. Other citations will be provided at the begining or end of chapters,
where needed.
Distribution The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution
is prohibited without the consent of the author.
Typesetting This book has been typeset using LATEX and the Bookman font family.
 C HAPTER O NE

The Tie That Binds

Although I would like the world to change, it helps me to appreciate those nights and those dreams.
But my friend, Id sacrifice all those nights just to make the earth and my dreams the same.

Higher by Creed

10 October 1995

I laid quietly in my bed, listening for them to come back. I had heard them leave over an hour
ago, giggling madly about something they were going to do. It was Alicia Spinnets idea. Katie Bell
quickly agreed, as usual, and Angelina Johnson was always looking for an adventure. I had been
left behind, of course. It didnt hurt me anymore; I was far too used to their treatment to care.

Im not saying that I wouldnt have loved to go with them. A chance to charm extra freckles
on the Weasley twins while they slept? It would have been the practical joke of a lifetime!
Fred and George would even have to admit to its brilliance. But I was left alone in the chilly
dormitory.
I heard the door creak open quietly. Hushed voices. Suppressed giggles. Pattering of
slippered feet. The door closed again with a high-pitched squeak and all was silentfor a
moment. An eruption of giggles broke out on the other side of my drawn curtains on my
four-poster bed. The high-pitched laugh definitely belonged to Angelina Johnson. The one
that sounded muffled as though the girl had put a hand over her mouth was certainly Alicia
Spinnets. That merely left the half-gasping, half-snorting noise to Katie Bell.
I cant believe it! Katie squealed. I thought they were going to wake up for sure.
I almost had a heart attack when George scratched his nose, Alicia whispered.
Oh, and how about when you yelped after Angelina stepped on your foot? Katie said,
her voice low. Im surprised the whole dormitory didnt wake up.
I cant wait to see them at breakfast tomorrow, Angelina said through giggles. Fredll
be positively furious that we got back at him. I heard the brief, excited clapping of hands
together.
And you think hes cute when hes angry, dont you?
Katie Bell, you get that thought out of your head this instant! Angelina squeaked in
what she probably hoped was an indignant tone. I knew better. She most certainly fancied
the older (albeit by four and a half minutes) twin. I almost laughed, but I was able to turn
it into a cough at the last moment. The voices outside ceased immediately and I froze.
Oh, it would figure she would be listening, I could hear Alicia say spitefully. She raised
her voice deliberately so I could hear her clearly. Why dont you come out here so that you
can hear us better, then? I didnt move. Maybe theyd leave me alone, maybe they would
just go away...
Really, like we dont know youre awake, Katie cut in. Maybe if I just lay really still...
No, they would just open the curtain. Trembling, I sat up and swung my legs over the side.
Pulling my nightgown tightly around me, I slipped between the curtains and stepped onto
the cold floor, my toes involuntarily curling up against the frozen stone.
I circled around the side of my bed and saw the three of them standing together, faces
flushed darkly and looking as though theyd had the time of their lives. I dropped my chin
self-consciously and let my long brown hair shield my face from their view.
Shouldnt you be asleep? Angelina asked quietly.
2 H ARRY P OTTER

I was rather surprised at her speaking to me. Usually she remained quiet while the
others teased me or occasionally would stop them by making an excuse for them to leave.
She helped me with Transfiguration homework once in fourth year and smiled at me in the
hallway. It wasnt much, but it was more than nothing, which was exactly what I got from
Alicia and Katie.
I suppose I suspected that George told her to be nice to me; he kept an eye on me
sometimes. He was the only person I could talk to in the whole House. Sure, I had Shelly
Walters (Hufflepuff) and JBelle Jubilee (Ravenclaw) to talk to during class but when Death
Eaters killed my mum in my sixth year, it was George who sat with me in the common room
all night and held onto me as I cried. He didnt make the empty promises that the teachers
and acquaintances did that if I needed anything then just ask. I knew it was true with
him. He wasnt like Madam Pomfrey who wanted me to express my feelings and let it
all out or Id make myself sick and woe be the person to give that woman extra work in
the infirmary. If I wanted to talk, he would listen. If I wanted to just sit with him or cry, he
would understand that, too.
Angelina and I were never that close. She did say she was sorry about what happened
to my mum when she found out. Katie and Alicia didnt tease me for a while after that. I
was given a wide berth, which I was grateful for. Thank Merlin for small favors.
No, let her listen all she wants, Alicia said, a smile beginning on her face. Its not like
shes ever done anything against school rules. Ooh, sneaking out at night. How terrible of
us, Katie! I still didnt dare look up at them. They might see the tear streaks on my face. I
couldnt show them that.
Youre not going to tell on us, right, Anya? Angelina asked. I shook my head quickly,
my eyes still studying the ground.
I wont tell anyone. Honest, I answered right away.
You had better not, Katie warned. George wouldnt speak to you again; we would
make sure of that. You know he only does it because he feels bad for you. Blood pounded
in my ears and I told myself not to listen to her. She was just trying to upset me. Shes
trying to get your goat, baby, my dad would have said. Now dont you let her.
As I saw it, there were two options. I could stand up for myself and do the right thing
by telling Professor McGonagall in the morning or I could swear I wouldnt say a word and
crawl back into my bed, pretending it never happened.
I promise I wont tell. Really, I said. My older brother always said I should have been
in Hufflepuff. I heard one of them draw in a breath to say something, but Angelina cut her
off.
All right, we all need some sleep. Theres a game tomorrow, remember? Her voice had
the commanding tone no less than the one McGonagall could hold. Obediently, I quickly
scrambled back into my bed and curled up beneath the covers. I heard two sets of footsteps
scramble to opposite ends of the room quickly. The third pair walked a more determined
path and I held my breath as my curtain was pulled aside.
Anya? Angelina whispered softly. Anya, if youre still awake, Im sorry for the way
they acted. Katies parents are very uptight about her behavior. If she even gets one owl
saying she misbehaved, shell get into loads of trouble. Alicia... well, she hates it when her
parents are disappointed. Just dont tell, okay?
I wont, I murmured, my voice muffled in my pillow.
Thank you. I heard a soft swish as my curtain fell back and listened to her tiptoe
back to her bed (I may have needed a charm to help my vision, but my ears were in perfect
working order.) and crawl beneath her own covers. I waited five solid minutes before I let
the tears fall.

*****

Years later...

Anya? Anya, wake up. Come on, this isnt funny. Open your eyes, a voice said as I drifted out of
my dream. The voice was very familiar and it sounded a little frightened. My eyes fluttered slowly
open and I looked into blue eyes that I instantly recognized.
George, go away. Im sleeping, I muttered, squirming uncomfortably in the chair. George drew
back and stood above me, arms crossed. It was creepy when he did that, because he looked like he
was upset with me. I saw a smile twitch on his lips and relaxed.
Sleeping on the job? I could bring you in front of the Department of Magical Employment for
that, you know, he teased. I let out a breath of relief, knowing his words held no conviction, as I
 T HE T IE T HAT B INDS 3

was only working at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes as a record-keeper temporarily while I was between
jobs.
The store closed an hour ago, I yawned in reply. I stretched my arms out an unimpressive
distance and looked up at him sleepily. His dark red hair fell over his pale blue eyes and he
brushed it away, irritated.
You need a haircut, I told him as I stretched out my legs and used the arms of the chair to
push myself to my feet. I felt dizzy from standing too quickly and fell over again. Luckily, I landed
right into a pile of Plush Parrot Pillows. They squawked in protest and I stuck my tongue out at
them. Perhaps Id picked up just a bit too much of the twins disposition.
George looked down at me with one raised red eyebrow, and an amused smile touching the
corners of his lips. He shook his head as he picked up his eagle feather quill and dipped it in the
green inkwell.
Remind me to add coordination onto the list of things we need to order, he said, marking
something on a piece of parchment. He signed the bottom and set his quill down so he could roll it
up.
Youre really cute, I said sarcastically, picking myself up and brushing bright red and yellow
feathers off my robes. Do you want me to close up tonight?
No but thanks, Anya. Ill do it. I had noticed he was acting odd recently, even for George. He
absently put his quill behind his ear and opened a parchment envelope that had been resting on
the counter.
Oh, that came this morning, but you and Fred were in your laboratory buggering about or
experimentingI dont know whichand I completely forgot about it until now. He gave a half nod
and skimmed the first few lines of the parchment. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
What is it? I asked, sidling up to him. He didnt answer, so I bent slightly in front of him to
read the letter he was holding.

To: MESSRS. F. & G. Weasley

From: Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises
Re: Copyright Ownership
Date: 8 January 2004
To Whom It May Concern:
It has come to the attention of Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises that
Weasleys Wizard Wheezes manufactures a full line of Canary Creams, the first edition
coming out in the June of 1997. We, at Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises,
are sending you this notice to inform you that our successful Tweety Truffles have been on
the wizarding market since early 1982. To avoid legal matters, we recommend that you
remove the Canary Creams from your merchandise list. Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Parker Jackalope
President of Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises

I paused a few moments before I dared to look up at George. Canary Creams were what started
Weasleys Wizard Wheezes and they had been a classic (and quick-selling) item ever since.
This is Freds doing; I know it, I said, hoping the lie might comfort him. He probably though
itd be so bloody hilarious for you to panic over it and think it was real. Oh, honestly, the two of you
will never grow up, will you? I took the letter from him and crumpled it up in a little ball. I took
out my wand to incinerate it, but George snatched it out of my hand before I could.
I watched silently as he placed the parchment on the counter and smoothed it out slowly. I could
tell he was searching the notice for any sign of forgery. Finally, he drew in a deep breath and folded
it in half.
Time for you to go home, he said softly, tucking the parchment into his pocket. He finally
looked up at me. Its late.
George I began in protest.
I want you to open tomorrow; Ive got some appointments in the morning. Seven oclock, all
right? he said as though I hadnt even spoken. It drove me insane when he did that.
Yes, sir, I replied. I knew calling him sir or addressing him formally in any manner really got
his goat, but I really didnt care much at that point.
Please dont do this, he said, closing his eyes and sitting heavily in the chair in which I had
been sleeping. I dont need this extra stress, he said, his voice muffled by his hands. He pinched
the bridge of his nose and sighed; even his freckles looked drained.
4 H ARRY P OTTER

George had taken care of me when I was younger. I like to think I became a stronger person
because of him. I didnt need him the same way I did when I had my rough patch at Hogwarts. But
he needed me now. I knelt at his side and he opened his eyes, looking at me. His face was weary
and he looked a lot older than his twenty-five years.
Anya, this is just too much, he said, in a strained voice. I cant talk to my sister-in-law
without her referring to my brother as oh, him, in the same tone a Death Eater might say Muggle-
born. Dervish and Banges and Third Times A Charm are beginning to monopolize the practical joke
industry and Im about this close to getting sued. He held his thumb and forefinger a centimeter
apart to better illustrate. He ran a hand through his fiery hair and let it fall limply on the arm of the
chair, which grunted its indignation. His head fell back against the top of the chair with a dull thud
and he closed his eyes. I chewed my lower lip for a moment, trying to think of something horribly
profound to cheer him up, but my mind was a complete blank. The only thing I could think of doing
was setting my hand on top of his, which I did.
3W has had hard times before and weve always pulled through. And Fred and Angelina will
settle their differences... as bull-headed as they can both be, they love each other deep down and
will find a way to fix things. Come on, you know Im not good with all this philosophy rubbish. Itll
work. Lifes not perfect... nothing is always paradise.
He cracked open an eye and turned his head towards me.
You really believe that, dont you? he asked, completely and utterly serious with me. I nodded.
So things will work out, then? I nodded again and he pulled his hand out from under mine. He
used his fingertips to brush my light brown hair out of my face and tuck it gently behind my ear. If
you say so. He sighed heavily and offered me a half smile. His eyes were still troubled and I knew
I hadnt really helped him at all; I could easily tell he was humoring me. I really didnt appreciate
when he did that, but starting a row with him over his insincerity wouldnt solve anything. Go on
home and get some sleep. Ill see you in the morning. He stood up from the chair and reached out
a hand to help me stand.
Good night, George, I said, just before Apparating home.

*****

I awoke the next morning with a sharp pain in the side of my head. I groaned and turned over.
To my surprise the pain disappeared for a moment. I felt a light tapping across my head, then the
sharp, pulsing pain again. I forced my eyes open and swatted out at the air. I gasped sharply when
I hit something feathery.
Yawning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes with my fists. I looked down into my lap to see a little
brown owl hopping excitedly across my lap. It cocked its head to one side and stuck its talon out
proudly.
Mmm, whys the mail coming this early? I muttered to no one in particular, as I took off the
piece of parchment tied to the tiny birds leg. Once Id relieved the owl of its burden, it hopped
excitedly across my bedspread, looking to get into trouble.
Dont you touch anything, I warned it as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. It hooted
at me, irritated, and then became mesmerized with the flying Quidditch players on my covers. I
unrolled the small piece of parchment and read quickly. I identified the handwriting as Georges
scrawl:

Anya
Get the envelope off the counter at the shop and meet me at Paracelsus Hospital. Please
hurry.
George

*****

I rushed through the front entryway of Paracelsus Hospital, hopping on one foot and trying to tie
my shoe. I had stopped at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes to pick up the envelope with a piece of folded
parchment in it. It was the one from Jackalope Parker Practical Joke Enterprises; I considered
jotting down the return address and sending back a Howler, but decided against it at the last
moment.
The hell with my shoe, I decided, as I dashed up to the reception desk.
A plump, red-haired witch sat behind the desk, scrawling a note on a scrap of parchment. Her
dark blue-framed glasses bobbed up and down on her nose as she wrote.
Weasley? I asked hopefully, my words coming out rushed together. I paused to breathe as she
answered.
 T HE T IE T HAT B INDS 5

Room 317 on the seventh floor, she said pleasantly. It must have driven her almost insane to
be so calm and collected when panicking relatives and friends rushed to find out how their ailing
loved ones were doing. Would you like a Mouse?
I nodded quickly and a tiny girl appeared in front of me. To those who didnt know what a Mouse
was, it would be absurd to think a child of eight or nine could possibly guide visitors through a
large facility such as Paracelsus. The Mouse, however, was no child. Rumors had flown through
the wizarding world from the possibility of them being the late Albus Dumbledores perpetually
youthful granddaughters to their ages being in the thousands. I suppose no one would ever know.
In any case, she raced ahead of me through zigzagging hallways and up trick staircases and
even through what appeared to be solid walls of stone. Finally, we entered a long hallway lined
with doorways and nervous witches and wizards sitting in chairs. She pointed one pale hand down
the hallway and jabbed a finger sharply to the right. I squinted down the corridor, hoping to see
something obviouslike a gigantic sign with 317 on itbut I had no such luck. I turned to ask the
Mouse where to go, but she was gone. My heart nearly pounded out of my chest as my mind flew a
hundred kilometers a minute. Was George sick? No, that couldnt be it. He wouldnt have sent me
for something at 3W if he was ill. But why did he need me to meet him at the hospital? I got a sick
feeling in my stomach; something had to be wrong.
I began to run again and was only able to get halfway down the hallway when an all-too-familiar
sharp pain tore through my chest. Crying out, I fell to my knees. Within ten seconds, I was
surrounded by mediwizards. One pushed to the front and asked, panicked, Again? I was only
able to nod; the pain was much too great. I felt a wand touch my shoulder and the same voice say,
Antiasthmatico. The pain faded gradually and was replaced with a dull ache. I felt strong arms
heave me to my feet and I saw that it was indeed George who had spoken to me.
Thank you, I breathed gratefully, collapsing forward into his arms. I leaned against him heavily
as I slowly caught my breath and fought of the last shards of pain out my chest. He guided me
carefully to a chair, sat me down and knelt in front of me.
Are you all right? he asked softly. I nodded and handed him the envelope. He took it from me
and glanced at it briefly before putting it in his pocket.
Why did you need to meet me here?
Angelinas sick, he said softly. My heart jumped into my throat and the sick feeling was back
in my stomach.
What happened? I asked numbly, my hand placed over my heart. George stood stiffly and then
seated himself beside me in a chair.
Fred says that one moment she was folding laundry and the next, she was leaning against the
wall, crying with her arms wrapped around her abdomen. Shes... shes not good, he replied, his
voice trembling.
The baby! I gasped.
Dr. Branford says the babys still alive... but itswe just found out it is a sheheartbeat is
weak. Angelinas got a high fever and shes hardly coherent. The mediwizards still dont know if
whatevers shes got is Muggle or magical or... something else. He fell silent and I saw the small
muscles in his jaw moving furiously as he stared at a spot across the hallway. I heard footsteps
at the far end of the hallway and looked up in time to see Ron Weasley and his wife, Hermione
Granger-Weasley rushing towards us. I stood quickly and hugged them both, filling them in on as
much as I got from George.
Maybe I should go in and take a look... Hermione began, already taking a step towards the
door. Ron caught her shoulder and shook his head.
Conflict of personal interest. Let them do their jobs, Mione, he said gently. She turned and
looked up at him, looking as though she was about to protest. She snapped her mouth closed and
leaned slightly against his chest.
Im going to find a mediwizard somewhere and find out whats going on, Hermione declared.
Ill catch up with you in a minute, Ron said. For a moment, they paused, and then exchanged
a quick kiss before Hermione started down the hall. Ron nodded politely at me and then stepped
in front of his brothers chair. George looked up and stood. The brothers embraced slowly. When
they pulled apart, they each seemed to read each others minds.
Hows he doing? Ron asked. George shook his head.
Hes falling apart... You know Fred, though. Hes trying not to show it, but hes hurting. Bad,
George answered. He briefly rubbed his face with his hands, as though trying to stay awake. He
knows he was being a lousy git with the way he was treating Angelinashe wasnt being much
betterbut I cant believe this is what it took for them to be in a room together for more than ten
minutes without shouting.
6 H ARRY P OTTER

Who did this? Ron asked, with a clenched jaw. I tried to shrink in my seat. I knew that Rons
Weasley temper was second only to Freds, something I dared not witness a second time.
They dont even know what caused it. George glanced past Ron and down the hallway. Looks
like Hermione found someone with answers. I turned and saw Hermione speaking with a medi-
witch. I winced when I recognized the defensive-Hermione stance; hands planted on hips, weight
on left foot, head tilted slightly to one side.
Id better go save the poor bloke, Ron said with a wince. Let me know if theres a change.
The brothers embraced again and Ron headed down the hallway towards his wife. George settled
heavily beside me again. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, making me wonder what was in
his head. I looked down and slowly slid my hand beneath his. He startled a little, but then wrapped
his fingers around mine.
I dont know what Id do if I was in his shoes, he murmured, his fingers holding mine tightly. I
dont know how I could live with myself. He fell silent again and I leaned my head softly against his
shoulder, my eyes closing. If I kept them open any longer, I mightve started crying. I dont break
an eight-year streak without crying if I can prevent it. From where I sat, I could just barely make
out Freds voice through the door:
Angel, you must pull through this. Youve got to pull through, love... I cant live without you.
I didnt expect anything to follow, but I heard Angelinas very weak rasp, You have George...
Youll do just fine.
George is my twin, my flesh and blood. True enough. But youre in my blood, arent you? Angel,
I... Im not like some blokes that can just say all sorts of flowery things off the top of their heads.
Blowing a lot of hot air... thats not me and you know it. But youve got to know that youre my
heart... Here, he broke off and I suspected he was trying to compose himself. And a man cant
live without his heart, now can he? So get well. The pain in his voice threatened to bring tears to
my eyes.
It could have been her in there, George murmured in a barely audible tone. Im not even sure
he realized that hed spoken aloud.
Who? I asked him quietly. He jerked suddenly and I pulled away from him, looking shocked.
He was staring back at me with large blue eyes.
Nothing... Its no one. Dont worry about it. His voice was clipped and the message was clear:
no further discussion on the issue. He pulled his hand away from mine and dropped it into his lap.
I looked at him, surprised, but he was lost in his own world.
 C HAPTER T WO

Keeping the Faith

Death is that state in which one exists only in the mind of others,
which is why it is not an end.
No goodbyes. Just good memories.

Unknown

In most families, when a single member falls ill, the rest of the unit makes occasional visits and
ask what they can do to help. Not the Weasleys. I knew that for a fact. When I Apparated into the
Burrow after my visit to the hospital, it was overflowing with Weasleys of all shapes and sizes.
I had no sooner popped in front of the door than seven-year-old Mary Weasley came running
at me. With a squealed Annieeeeeeeeeeeeee! (Poor child could never get my name right.) she
launched herself into my arms. I staggered back a few paces but, thankfully, not down the stairs.
Penelope, her mother, came out the door a few moments later and took her daughter back from me.
Oh, Im so sorry about that, Penelope said, her voice apologetic. Marys just been a little
excited about everything thats going on. She turned her attention on her daughter. Why dont
you go see what Daddys doing? Mary squirmed in her mothers arms until she was put down,
then scrambled to her feet and raced back into the house. Penelope straightened and brushed her
scarlet robes off with her delicate hands.
Hows she doing? she asked brightly, her large blue eyes shining innocently at me. Her golden
curls framed her face delicately and I felt as though I was looking at a child. Dont get me wrong; I
love Penelope dearly, like she was my own sister, but her naivete astounded me sometimes. At the
same time, she was a lot like Percy: ambitious and determined. On the other hand, I think she had
some sort of denial complex in place that wouldnt let her accept bad news.
Er... maybe we ought to go inside and I can tell everyone together. She nodded in agreement
and we went inside the house. Inside, Molly and Arthur sat across from their son, Charlie. Lizeth,
Charlies wife, was walking slowly back and forth across the room and holding their three-year-old
daughter Elizabeth. The young child was sleeping with her thumb in her mouth and her head on
her mothers shoulder.
Lizeth noticed my presence first and smiled at me. She used her free elbow to nudge Charlie and
he stood politely upon noticing me. Molly, of course, pushed back out of her chair and rushed up
to me quickly, asking me how Angelina was doing and what happened and oh, was her little boy
okay? If the situation had not been what it was and Molly had referred to her twenty-five year old
son as a little boy, Fred would never hear the end of it from me.
I relayed the latest information: Angelina was becoming more and more coherent, but her fever
had spiked again. The babys heartbeat had strengthened somewhat, which the mediwizards said
was a good sign. Fred had fallen asleep in her room and when I had followed behind George to
enter, he was slouched down in his seat with his hand in Angelinas. She was half-awake and lying
on her side, watching him sleep with a tired smile on her face.
Maybe you were right about things getting better, George had whispered to me, not wanting to
wake up his brother.
Yes, I do tend to make correct statements on occasion, I said, patting his arm. Ill open the
shop. Its not too latecustomers might still come.
Forget it, George had said with a firm hake of his head. Go to the Burrow and tell my mum
the latest. Im sure shes already argued with the receptionist and tried to get the entire family in.
Please, Anya?
I had wanted to go home; I really did. Id go open the shop and take care of it if I could. Anything
was better than seeing Molly Weasley in a state of distress. I had witnessed her just after the Third
8 H ARRY P OTTER

Task in my sixth years Triwizard Tournament. When Harry had reappeared, unconscious at the
edge of the hedge maze, Molly had been nearly hysterical. It took Bill Weasley, Professor Vector and
Professor Sinistra to keep her from rushing to Harrys side. A Weasley in distress is one with which
you do not want to mess. But with George giving me the lost puppy look, how could I say no? I
agreed and started down the hallway (Security wards were cast in the hallways and rooms, so I had
to wait until I got outside to pop over to the Burrow.).
As I turned to go down a staircase, I nearly ran into a stricken-looking black woman who was
nervously wringing her hands.
Sorry, I said and was already a few more steps down when I realized who it was. I paused a
turned around to see the woman Mrs. Johnson? I questioned, returning to the top of the stairs.
The woman spun quickly.
Do you know where my daughter is? she asked quickly. Her face was streaked with tears and
her large brown eyes were filled with even more. Wheres my daughter? Is she all right? What
happened?
Shes at the end of the hallway... 317. Shes awake, but Im not sure... The panicked look
on the womans face had made me stop mid-sentence. End of the hallway. Right side. She had
nodded quickly and began hurrying down the hallway.
I told Molly all of this, save my encounter with Mrs. Johnson. I most certainly did not need to
have her nervous about Angelina and her mother.
Oh, my goodness, the poor girl! Molly said dramatically, one hand over her heart. Before she
could go on, an owl swooped in the window and landed on Arthurs shoulder. She cast half a glance
over her shoulder, but turned back to me when Arthur pulled the parchment off the birds foot. She
continued to bombard me with questions, which I answered as best as I could. Out of the corner of
my eye, I saw Arthur skim it quickly and wait patiently for his wife to finish speaking.
Molly, dear, Arthur said quietly, stopping his wifes mission to see how much she could say
before completely passing out from lack of breathing.
What is it? Molly asked, turning her eyes upon her husband with mild annoyance.
Its the note you sent to Harry... the owl came back with it. His eyebrows were furrowed in
confusion as his middle son, Percy, entered the room with his wife. Apparently, their five children
were off amusing themselves in some other room of the Burrow. From the giggling and bangs, I
could gather they were upstairs and with several other cousins.
Thats odd, Molly mused, looking, if possible, even more worried than she had seconds earlier.
Where could he be?
Who, Mum? Percy asked, eager to jump in the conversation.
Harry, Lizeth answered, passing her sleeping daughter off to Charlie. He smiled slightly as
Elizabeth laid her head on his shoulder, yawning.
Mum owled him about two hours ago with the news about Angelina and the owl just got back
without giving the note to Harry, Charlie picked up, keeping his voice quiet so that he wouldnt
wake his daughter.
I thought Harry said he had some business to take care of at Hogwarts this week, Penelope put
in. Her husband shook his head.
He was there on Monday and he told me he finished everything before he left, Percy said.
I had an inkling of an idea where he was. I couldnt be positive, but if the owl hadnt found him
in his usual places, I was rather confident I knew of his whereabouts.
I could go look for him, Molly, I offered. I think I might know where he is. Owls arent allowed
there. Her eyes held confusion, but she seemed too distressed to inquire.
Well, if you see him, you tell him to come here, all right? Poor boy is always off on his own... I
smiled politely and nodded.
Ill see if I can get some more information from the hospital, too. Mollys eyes filled with grateful
tears. The woman didnt seem too easily pleased most of the time, but this seemed to satisfy her.
After receiving a sleepy wave from an awakened Elizabeth, I Apparated away.

*****

I entered the small graveyard quietly, mindful to respect the silence. It wasnt a spectacularly lavish
place by any definition but it was quiet and peaceful. Less than a thousand were laid to rest there,
wizards and Muggles alike.
I made my way down the dirt path, hands tucked into the pockets of my robes. My eyes slid over
the various tombstones that I had always been impressed with. They ranged from large monuments
of angels that seemed to stretch to the sky to tiny bricks imbedded in the soft earth, surrounded by
 K EEPING THE F AITH 9

carefully tended grass.

At the far west side of the graveyard lay a pair of gravestones separated from the main group. A
man sat between them, his head leaning back against the fence with his eyes shut tightly. A man
with messy black hair and round glasses.
I stayed a modest five meters away, behind a tree, not wanting to intrude on Harrys privacy. As
though he noticed my presence, he sat forward and opened his eyes. For a moment, it seemed as
though he didnt know where he was or why he was there. After removing his glasses and rubbing
his eyes a few times, he seemed to become oriented again. Using the fence to support himself, he
stood and finally spotted me.
I felt self-conscious as he walked over to me. I had just been spying on the Boy Who Lived!
Actually, he was now the Man Who Lived Quietly And Ran A Charity. I always thought he would
go into some sort of spy espionage or high profile job, but I suppose he shocked everyone when he
disappeared for three years and then resurfaced at Fred and Angelinas wedding to start the Black
and Potter Foundation with his godfather.
Hello, Anya, he said quietly. I turned red under his gaze and looked down at my feet. Dont be
ashamed. I had the feeling someone was watching me anyway.
It wasnt intentional, I said sheepishly, meeting his bright green eyes. I... erm... sometimes
when Im here, I see you sitting by those graves. Are those your parents? He nodded, glancing back
at the tombstones. He looked a little sheepish himself and I smiled in a way I hoped was reassuring.
I come talk to my parents sometimes, too.
He got an odd look on his face at these words. I (along with every other educated witch or wizard
in the world) knew hed never met his parents; at least, he didnt have any memories of them. Hed
had so much weight to shoulder for so long on his own... without anyone to help him carry the load.
Sirius was there for him, Im sure, but I knew from personal experience that nothing could replace
a parents guiding.
Could I meet your parents? he asked abruptly. You know... could you tell me about them?
Id never seen Harry ever look quite like he did then. It was a yearning... but with an intense,
disguised sadness. II like to hear about parents.
Sure, I said slowly. I led him quietly through a row of graves and showed him one large
gravestone bearing the names of both of my parents:

In Loving Memory
Benjamin and Amelia Parker
As loving as they were together in life, they remain so in death.

There were no dates of any kind. My mum had died before my dad, but I couldnt bear the two of
them being apart after death, so when my father died, I had a new gravestone made and made it
large enough so it stretched the width of both of their graves.
Here they are. My mums friend Genevieve used to joke that the two of them were always so
close to each other that they were attached at the hip. I paused to chuckle. I... um... I guess
I didnt want them to be apart after they died. I looked up at him and was surprised to see that
there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Tell me about them? he asked. I nodded and began.
Well, my mum was a witch; she went to Hogwartswith your parents, maybe. My dad was
a Muggle, but he knew about the wizarding world. He worked with Cornelius Fudge and Arthur
Weasley to help with wizard-Muggle relations. Fudge had my mum work with my dad and... well...
it was quite funny really, as they would hardly get any work done because they were always goofing
off. A couple of nutters, those two were. Now that I think of it, they remind me a lot of Fred and
Angelina. I paused for a moment, reflecting. My mothers family was very strict about marriages;
if it had been up to my grandmother, my mum would have settled down and married a wealthy
wizard handpicked by my grandmother before the age of twenty-five! So they eloped. I think its
rather romantic. I looked at Harry, who nodded in response. I was pleased that see he was actually
listening and seemingly enjoying the story.
Go on, he urged, crouching low to study the writing on the grave markers. I smiled and knelt
next to him, brushing the dirt off my fathers name.
When I was little, I would make Mum tell me all about Hogwarts and magic. She even told
me about you. Well, what happened at any rate. She softened it for me, though. Mums are like
that, I guess. I shrugged and saw that he was looking down at the tombstone fondly. There was
something behind his green eyes that I couldnt quite identify as he looked at the inscription beneath
my parents names.
10 H ARRY P OTTER

How about your dad? What was it like having a Muggle for a father?
It was... erm... entertaining, to say the least, I started, laughing a little. Mum would send
something flying across the kitchen and into the sink or cupboard and it would drive Dad positively
bonkers. Then he would tickle her until she apologized. I tilted my head softly to the side, remem-
bering the sound of their laughter. Sometimes I wonder if theyd be proud of me for being okay on
my own, I said out loud, unintentionally. In afterthought, I looked over at Harry, half-hoping he
had heard.
Im sure they would be. Remember in seventh year when Fang got into the school? Youre the
only one who was brave enough to go near him! Harry said with a smile.
Fang wasnt dangerous! He was positively adorable, I replied with the utmost sincerity. Really,
you would think he was capable of hurting someone the way the rest of the students were going on
about it. I shook my head. I had always excelled in Care of Magical Creatures and had a special
affinity for them ever since.
If you hadnt shown me this gravestone, I might have gone on thinking Hagrid was your father.
He paused a moment, thinking. Nah, youre too short. He dodged a sloppily aimed swat and gazed
back towards his parents final resting places. I swallowed hard and saw his eyes had misted over.
When he saw me looking at him, he blinked quickly and I couldnt even be positive if he had had
tears in his eyes to begin with. I gave myself an internal forehead smack and asked myself what I
thought I was playing at, telling an orphan about how great my parents had been.
Im sorry, I said quietly, feeling positively horrid. The man had never met his parents and all I
could talk about was my dad ticking my mum.
No, its quite all right, he said, standing up and brushing the off his robes. He reached a hand
down to help me up and I took it gratefully, standing in front of a nearby tree. Once I was back on
my feet, he continued, I like to hear stories. When I was with the Dursleys, I would make them up
myself. Very few didnt consist of their untimely deaths. He winked and I flushed red at such a
personal experience being revealed to me. Before I could match a cherry, Harry went on, Did you
come here just to spy on me or to visit your parents, too?
I gasped and a hand flew up to my mouth. I had forgotten to tell him!
Oh, Harry, Im sorry. I was sent here to tell you to go to the Burrow. Angelina fell ill and the
whole family is gathering there. I chewed on my lower lip and beat myself up inside. What a stupid
thing to do, Parker! I shouted inwardly.
Harry got a panicked look on his face for a moment, but it was immediately replaced with a
mask of indifference. I suppose he needed to do that a lot, covering up his emotions like that. As an
outcast, I had become quite the observer and could spot a lie or a faked emotion from a mile away.
I watched with a wince as his Disapparated with a tiny pop. He hadnt even said goodbye. Oh,
yeah. He was pissed. I let my head fall back against a tree with a growl at myself How could I
have been so forgetful... so stupid? I left to find someone without telling anyone where I was going,
ended up spying on the person and then wasted twenty minutes of his time before passing on the
message.
Furious with myself, I knew there was still one stop for me to make before going home. I pushed
away from the tree and started back down to the path. The birds had stopped singing and my upset
mind decided that it was to punish my stupidity.
A breeze flitted through the graveyard, stirring the leaves around my feet. I shivered involuntarily
and pulled my hands into my sleeves, wishing I had brought my cloak along. I stumbled clumsily
over a rock but was able to right myself before sprawling onto the gravel. Nice job, Grace, my mind
taunted.
Shut up, I said aloud. A young man near a tombstone looked up and gave me an irritated
glare. I smiled apologetically and shuffled on, a sudden great interest in my feet.
Finally, I arrived at my destination, a large stone memorial. There was a heading on the top and,
though I had read it loads of times, I reread it anyway:

Voldemort War II
Prisoners Of WarMissing In Action
we hold onto the strand of hope that you will return to us safely.

I swallowed hard and let my eyes roam down the lists of names. Mark Abbott... Franklin Bartlett...
Gerald Hart... Carter Luther... Steven Marcus... Tucker Oxines...
I reached out my trembling hand and ran my fingertips gently over the next name. The rough
engraving scratched the tips of my fingers, but I didnt pull them away.
I miss you, I whispered very softly to the name. I leaned my forehead against the cold memorial
 K EEPING THE F AITH 11

and closed my eyes to force the stinging away from the back of my eyelids. Im doing okay, but its
hard. Why did you have to go?

*****

Two days later, I arrived at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes at roughly six in the morning. Let it be known
that I am not a morning person. There was an owl waiting for me when I arrived home the previous
evening, asking me to open the store the next day and that he would try to get in by noon. George,
of course, sent it. I recognized his hippogriff scrawl.
Fred and George have always been there for each other. Not in a mushy, talk-to-me-if-things-
arent-perfect type of way because thats just not the twins style. Its more of comfort in knowing
that if the dragonshit actually hit the proverbial fan, then the other would be by his side.
Therefore, it came as absolutely no surprise that George was going to keep his brothers business
worries far away and try to do everything himself: take care of the shop, carry messages between
the Burrow and the hospital and look into Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises and see
what he could do about the copyright matter. I didnt turn him down for opening the shop at such
a God-awful hour because he had so much to look over that a whiny, pesky record-keeper who was
going to complain about waking up early would not do him a world of good.
So there I was, leaning sleepily against the counter at WWW in Hogsmeade. Unfortunately, it
was a Hogsmeade weekend for the Hogwarts students and I had a gigantic crowd of young witches
and wizards pushing and shoving, giggling and shouting and generally running amok in the store.
A blonde haired boy bought a red Squirting Flower and I watched with mild amusement through
the front window as he presented it to a brown-haired girl. To his surprise, and mine, she leaned
forward and kissed him on the cheek just after he handed it to her. He turned crimson and looked
away. She leaned forward to smell the flower when a stream of water shot out at her.
RYAN! she shrieked furiously, catching the attention of half of the stores customers. His eyes
went wide and he ran. I sent a quick prayer for the boy, as she took off after him, livid.
Another swarm of students entered at this time, giggling about what had just taken place outside
the window. One of them seemed just a tad too tall for her peers. I recognized her and waved.
Shelly! I shouted and waved her over. Shelly Walters, a tall, slim blonde witch who had been
in Hufflepuff but in my year, waved back enthusiastically. Her large red lips curved into a wide grin
and her blue eyes sparkled. A few of the elder customers gave appreciative glances her way and I
saw it as no surprise. She was always the one to get the whistles at school from the boys and I was
the one to get the mere title of as the pretty girls mousy little friend. Such is the life.
Hey there, love! she greeted brightly, stepping behind the counter without invitation. I was
going to say something, but she wrapped me in a tight hug before I could get the words out. Its
been ages since I saw you last! she said dramatically. Shelly had always been the one to play
things up. We simply must get together more often. I laughed at how American her last comment
sounded and asked how shed been doing.
Just famously, she said, clapping her ring-studded hands together. I did a quick visual check
and made sure she hadnt gone off and gotten married without telling me; she could get spontaneous
at times. And you? I shrugged.
My lifes not nearly as exciting as yours, I said with a chuckle as I rang up a Flirting Flounder
for a giggling teenager (Real fish leer and bubble suggestive remarks to anyone who passes their
tank!).
You need to get married, girl, Shelly said, seating herself at a stool next to mine. I had a
feeling that things would not be good if George came in to see one of my friends behind the counter,
but couldnt bring myself to say anything at that moment. At least tell me youve got a date this
weekend. Its a Saturday night. I shook my head. Things didnt work out with David then?
No, he decided we needed space. I rolled my eyes. That means he decided to hook up with
Marcia Flint. And things didnt work with Simon, John or Parker DeMilo either. I heaved a sigh as
her eyes got big.
Going for quantity over quality, huh? Shelly said, arching a heavily penciled eyebrow as she
fiddled with a business card for 3W (It turned into a sponge when dipped into cold water and it
turned into a washrag when dipped in warm water. My idea.). At my scowl, she relented a bit. Ah,
well. Mrs. Parker Parker would sound a bit redundant, wouldnt it? she said, tilting her head to one
side. Her large blue eyes studied me, glinting just a bit too mischievously for me to be comfortable.
What? I asked slowly, half-fearing to know what was going on in her mind. I spotted a pair of
boys roughhousing near a teetering bookcase of 365 Ways To Annoy Your Siblings calendars and
shouted, Hey, be careful! in their direction. They scowled, looked at me like I was a horrid person
for interrupting the destruction of the store and sent me glares before they stalked out. I looked
12 H ARRY P OTTER

back at Shelly who was positively beside herself with excitement.

Ive got a friend, Sean Ludlam, whos supposed to meet me for lunch next week. If youre
involved with anyone... She let the sentence hang, grinning from ear to ear with perfectly straight
white teeth.
No, I said flatly. Absolutely not. The last time you fixed me up with someone... well, you
know what happened. The poor man (I think his name was Daniel) had a terrible memory and
kept calling me Gina the entire evening. We had to cut the date short because his sister got into a
broomstick accident and caused a sixteen-broom pile-up on the Aerial Broomstick Flyway Network.
Everyone was okay, but I found that Daniel had a bit of a short fuse when he got angry with his
sister. It was our first and last date. Suffice to say that I wasnt too interested in being set up on a
blind date by Shelly again.
No, really, hes a nice guy. Hes got a part-time job somewhere... oh, I cant remember, but hes
studying Quidditch under Viktor Krum. THE Viktor Krum! Quidditch Today says that hes one of
the most promising rookies out there. Hes rather nice-looking, too. She made a clicking noise with
her tongue and raised her eyebrows up and down in a suggestion fashion.
Who dont you nab him yourself, then? I asked, idly rearranging some merchandise on the
shelf behind me as most of the students began to wander out.
Hes not my type, she sighed, leaning back against the counter. Besides, I showed him a
picture of you. He likes you. She winked and I groaned.
You did what? I moaned, plopping hard onto a wooden stool, which muttered a curse in protest.
She threw her head back and laughed loudly, unashamedly and then looked back to me.
Youre gullible, love. You really are. So youll meet us at the Leaky Cauldron at noon next
Friday, then? I put on a pout.
I dont know. Freds wife got really sick the other day and George and I have a lot to do around
here. Besides, I dont want to leave him alone with all this work. I dont even know if hell give me
time off.
Why wouldnt he give you time off? a new voice asked. I looked up sharply and saw George
standing in the doorway, the days owl post in one hand. Whoever he is, he must be a smarmy git
to give such a great worker a hard time. He winked at me as he sidled behind the counter with a
polite nod at a near-drooling Shelly, who was checking him out shamelessly.
Shelly, this is George. George, Shelly. Shelly held her hand out and giggled as he shook it.
Pleasure to meet you, she said in a sultry tone. He smiled courteously, looking a bit over-
whelmed. I suppressed a giggle. So what do you say, Georgie? Will you let my friend here come
to lunch with me and a dear friend of mine next Friday? She batted her eyelashes slightly, not
enough to look ridiculous, but enough to spark Georges interest.
And what do I get out of the deal? he asked coyly, leaning on the counter. Ugh, it was like they
were a couple of animals. I took the parchment envelopes out of Georges hand and rifled through
them. Nothing too exciting. I cleared my throat loudly and they stopped their flirting long enough
to pay me attention.
Are you going to need me next Friday then? I asked George. He thought a moment and shook
his head as he took the letters from my hands and began to go through them himself. His eye
caught one and he opened it.
Suppliers need inventory, he muttered vaguely. He looked up at me. You can have that
afternoon off if you do inventory for me today. I shook my head instantly.
George, do you know how boring doing inventory is? I made a whining noise and slumped back
on my stool. Oh, fine.
Thanks, he said with a grin. I scowled and snatched the form out of his hand. Dragging my
feet to the backroom, I could hear Shellys tinkling laughter. Maybe a girlfriend was what George
needed to take his mind off of 3W and his sister-in-law. As a matter of fact, I was warming up more
and more to the idea of meeting the mysterious Sean Ludlam.
List in one hand, I stepped between the shelves and started my count. First on the list was
Amazing Flying Squirrels. Dont ask. Thirteen still left in stock. They werent a quick-selling item so
we could wait until next month to order more. I made a small X on the bottom corner of the box with
my quill and pulled my arm down, banging my elbow hard on the metal shelf. Three months earlier,
I had done the same thing. Three months earlier, the action had had different consequences...

Can you not be so loud? Fred spat irritably. I rubbed my elbow and looked back at the
inventory sheet.
Sorry, I said quietly. I looked at the next item on the list. How many Flirting Flounders
do we have left? Fred shot me an impatient look and I tried not to get upset. I knew he
 K EEPING THE F AITH 13

and Angelina werent on the best of terms, to put it mildly, and he was getting more and
more easily annoyed as time went on.
Cant... reach... the...box... Fred said, rising to his tiptoes. He strained his fingers, but
they only brushed the bottom of the box. I pulled my wand out of my pocket and pointed it
at the offending box.
Wingardium Leviosa, I said quietly, so I wouldnt get yelled at for being loud again.
The box began to slide off the shelf and, unfortunately, Fred was doing it manually at
the same time. Both of us, startled, stopped. I watched in horror as the box teetered
dangerously on the edge of the shelf and fell. It seemed to fall in slow motion at first, but
after it cleared the edge, it was as though time was sped up ridiculously fast as the water
and fish went everywhere. Fred stood silently, red-faced with fury, water dripping down
his nose.
Are you STUPID or something?! he shouted, coming towards me. Didnt you SEE that
I was pulling that box DOWN? I took a step back, terrified. His hands were clenched into
fists at his side and he narrowed his eyes dangerously. What the hell is WRONG with
you? How could you POSSIBLY be so DUMB?
FRED! Fred spun quickly as George strode quickly into the room, looking caught be-
tween fury and horror. What the hell is wrong with you? Fred looked from his twin to me,
as though he had no idea where I came from.
I nearly passed out in relief. The world around me tilted crazily as I stepped back
against the wall for support. With a furious glare at Fred, George stepped up beside me.
My mind was spinning, still terrified. Adrenaline pumped through my veins and my heart
seemed to have no intention of slowing down. I felt hands touch my upper arms carefully.
No... no, Fred... Im sorry... didnt mean it... please... please dont hurt me... so sorry,
I slurred out. My body was still catching up with my mind. I tried feebly to get away, but
the hands held me securely in place.
Not Fred, I heard in the back of my mind. Its George... hes gone now... he wont hurt
you.
Oh, good, I whispered softly, falling forward against George. I was so drained from the
rush of adrenaline, from my body responding to stressor with the fight-or-flight response. I
trembled slightly as Georges arms surrounded me.
He wont hurt you. I promise. I wont let anyone hurt you.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed (well... all eight of you): Coriann (Ah, my faithful reader and fan artist), Angie
(The writer of my canon), * *Ginny* * (Yayweve got a double fan!), Queen C (Heres part two for you!) Miss Robin (my Good
Twin), Elizaca (Curious about Anyas past, huh? Well, I hope you liked the latest insight!), Static (Sorry it wasnt soon, but it
is here, isnt it? J ) and Juliette (Im glad youre enjoying TBWL, but Im afraid its on hold for a whilemainly writers block.).
Thanks to Parker and John who reviewed over on the HP Paradise list and Simon, who made a... well... odd comment. But
I guess thats Simon for you.
 C HAPTER T HREE

The Trouble With Men

It is easier to be a lover than a husband for the simple reason

that it is more difficult to be witty every day
than to say pretty things from time to time.

Honore de Balzac (The Physiology of Marriage)

Over the next week, Angelinas health improved drastically and both the Weasley and Johnson
families let out a resounding relieved sigh. The doctors were impressed by her rapid recovery and
the increasing strength of her unborn childs heartbeat. Fred still hadnt come back to work yet, and
George still kept the matter concerning Parker Jackalope Practice Joke Enterprises under wraps.
He insisted that putting more worry on his twins mind would probably not be for the best and
enlisted my help.
We were poring over old WWW records the following Friday morning. Before taking any legal
action, I wanted George to make sure all his copyright listings for Canary Creams were in order
in case we had to take the issue to court. Between Mr. Disorganized and myself, it took over an
hour to find the filing cabinets in the back room before we could even think about searching for a
particular file. George lifted up an old folder and blew the dust off the top. Unfortunately, I inhaled
a mouthful of the wretched stuff and started a coughing fit.
Are you all right? George asked, the smile fading from his face. Had I not been clutching my
throat and gasping for air, I would have shot back a sarcastic remark. He laid a gentle hand on my
shoulder and, with the other hand, tapped his wand on my opposite shoulder. Antiasthmatico, he
said. Instead of the instant relief I was used to, it took about a minute before the coughing even
stopped and my throat remained raw afterwards.
Better? he asked, rubbing my shoulder. I nodded and massaged my sore neck. He watched
me carefully for a few more minutes, as though Id sprouted feathers, and then relented. He turned
and picked up a pile of folders.
Enough dust for you, George decided as he handed me a stack of files that were more or less
clean. Why dont you go out front with these? Ill be out in a minute. I nodded, took the stack
from him, and left the room to seat myself at the front counter. I began to page through the old files
and came to the copyright claim on Canary Creams.

Wizard Product Patent Claim Form

The following product, Canary Creams, has been listed in the Wizard Product Copyright
Patent Offices as an original product manufactured and sold under and only under the
company name of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes unless further notice is provided by propri-
etors Frederick Weasley and George Weasley.
We understand that in event of error, omission or falsified information on the part of
Messrs. Frederick and George Weasley, this document is thereby null and void.
Signed: Frederick Weasley
George Weasley
Witnesses: Angelina Johnson
Anya Parker
Supervising WPPO Official: Hunter Jackalope

Bingo.
 T HE T ROUBLE W ITH M EN 15

George! I called in a loud croak, the final rawness from my throat disappearing. He emerged
from the back room with his fiery hair and black robes streaked with dust. I held back snickers as
he distractedly swiped at his clothing, making the smudges worse.
Find something good? he asked as he brushed his hair and a small cloud of dust formed above
his head. Annoyed, he swatted his hands around in the air until the dust scattered, giggling madly.
He gave a scowl and pulled a stool up beside mine. I waited a few moments for him to carefully scan
the sheet, but he gave no response.
I dont get it. Im sure the patent office has a copy
No, look, I interrupted, showing him the claim form, pointing to the final name on the list, the
WPPO official. Ill bet you all the Galleons in Gringotts that hes related to Parker Jackalope, I said
proudly, jabbing at the parchment.
Right, George picked up, without missing a beat; Jackalope would then be able to have all
sorts of things tampered with down there through his son. That is, if the man is indeed Jackalopes
son.
It might be worth looking into, I shrugged, handing him the form. He grinned broadly and
picked me up out of my stool, spun me around and set me back down. After giggling through a few
moments of dizziness, I looked up at him dazedly, leaning heavily on my stool.
I dont know what Id do without you, he grinned, tucking the parchment into his robes. He
picked his wand up from the counter and rolled up the sleeves of his robes up to his elbows, looking
as though he was preparing to Apparate. Ill be back soon.
Where are you going? I asked as I closed the now empty file.
Parker Jackalope Headquarters, he answered. If I show him this, I bet hell realize weve
caught him before this thing even gets to court.
Right. We wouldnt want it to get married, I said absently.
What? George paused in the middle of fixing his robes and gave me a confused glance.
You know... court, married. He still looked as though he hadnt made the connection. Get it?
He shook his head.
Erm... nevermind then. Dont worry about it. George rolled his eyes and Apparated away,
muttering something about my status on the list of 100 Weirdest People in The Wizarding World
Today.
Snickering, I returned the file back into the backroom, careful not to stir up any more dust.
I took another pile of files carefully off the top of the cabinet, blew the dust away from me, and
brought the whole stack out to the front counter.
Business was slow (rather odd for a Friday) and the files were boring. As record-keeper, I could
understand what the legal gibberish meant and where everything more or less belonged, but every-
thing should be in moderation.
Tired with the files and legalities, I put them aside after twenty minutes without finding anything
interesting, save a love letter from Fred to Angelina that the latter apparently never received. How it
got into the WWW files was beyond me, but I couldnt keep myself from reading it. Curiosity killed
the Anya.
30 December 1999
My Dearest Chocolate Frog,
You know Im not a poet that can simply think of lovely words to say, words that would
make you swoon and cry. Those skills are wasted on romantics. All I wanted to say is that
I love you more than anything in the entire world and I dont know what Id do if you were
taken from me. Youve listened to me when I was upset, youve calmed me when I was
angry and you refuse to let me give up on my dreams. Im quite sure Ill never get up the
Gobstones to send you this letter, but I needed to write it. Tomorrow, we will be together
to welcome the New Year (but, as youve argued frequently, not the new millennium) and I
will ask you to be mine forever. I can only hope that you will say yes.
Your Sherbet Lemon,
Fred
After I finished reading, I felt awfully jealous of Angelina. In twenty-six years, I had never gotten a
letter like that in my entire life. I looked at the date again and saw that it was the day before Fred
had proposed, like the letter had said. Id never thought Fred Weasley could be so... poetic without
intention. And I thought had him all figured out. Almost as an afterthought, I felt horrible, having
intruded on Freds personal thoughts that hed intended for his eyes only.
I put the letter away shamefully, reminding myself to tell Fred to look in there without making it
obvious that I had already seen it.
16 H ARRY P OTTER

Hoping to distract myself, I took out a copy of Witch Weekly and began slowly paging through
it. I had never been too drawn into the latest fashions of the wizard world, preferring to stick to
simple black robes and only two dress robes for formal occasions. The emerald green and fiery red
garments were busy collecting dust at the back of my closet.
According to Witch Weekly, sky blue was the color that everyone was wearing, but I reckoned I
could survive another day without spending over forty Galleons on dress robes that I would never
wear. The moving photo of an artificially grinning anorexic-looking young witch did highlight the
item, but it still looked far too pastel for my dark wardrobe tastes.
I continued flipping through the magazine, pausing here or there when a picture or headlines
caught my eye. I was so engrossed in my reading material that I didnt notice someone enter the
store and come up to the counter until she spoke.
Anya? I looked up sharply, embarrassed, into the smiling eyes of Dr. Hermione Granger-
Weasley.
Hello, Hermione, I said brightly as I subtly slid the magazine off the counter and into my lap.
What brings you by here today? I planted my elbows on the counter and put my chin in my hands.
George just left on an errand, but hell be back soon. Fred is... well, Im not sure, but hes probably
at the hospital with Angelina.
Actually, hes at home. Ron made him go home to get at least one decent nights sleep instead
of kipping on that awful cot in Angelinas room. I actually came here with a few extra tickets
to Rons game tonight. Would you and George be interested in going? By the oversized (albeit
genuine) smile on her face and the enthusiasm with which she spoke of her husband, I could tell
they were stuck in the shag-constantly-ignore-world step of the cycle of their relationship. Even
an unskilled observer could spot the sequence of their marriage and it was dead obvious that they
were so involved in each other that the outside world probably didnt matter much. Hermiones ever
so slightly disheveled hair and very small lipstick smudge confirmed my suspicions.
I cant speak for George, but Ive got a lunch date today and Im not sure how long it will last,
I replied apologetically. It was a legitimate excuse, but I had never been much for Quidditch. Aside
from the sporadic game of Rons I was tricked into going to, I hadnt been to a formal Quidditch
match since Georges old games. I actually should be going pretty soon, I said idly, glancing at my
watch.
Oh, thats too bad. Maybe George At the mention of his name, the wizard in question popped
suddenly in between two aisles of prank sweets. I put on a smile to ask how his visit to PJPJE had
gone, but I snapped it shut when I saw the anger on his face.
Lousy... smarmy... GIT! he shouted, furiously. I stepped back in surprise as he stormed
behind the counter and began to pace rapidly, using over exaggerated hand gestures. That Parker
Jackalope has absolutely no sense of right and wrong. He paused to slam his fist on the counter in
front of me. I jumped, startled, but he went on shouting. I get there, he pretends he doesnt know
who I am, and denies the fact that he even sent me the letter!
Did he look at the form from the WPPO? I asked gently, apologizing for Georges behavior to
Hermione with my eyes.
Look at it? He laughed bitterly. Oh, yes, he looked at it. With this, he dipped his hand into
his pocket and pulled out the shredded remains of the parchment. I watched as the scraps slowly
drifted down to the counter, forming a ragged pile. George dropped his elbows to the counter and
folded his hands behind his head. This is a total nightmare. I cannot deal with this man! his
muffled voice insisted.
Erm... excuse me for intruding, but whats going on? Hermione asked politely. I explained the
situation to Hermione as George did a Reverse Shredding Charm on the WPPO form. Well, she
said huffily, I most certainly would not take that kind of behavior. George, you should Apparate
right back to that horrible mans office and tell him you wont take that kind of conduct. Im sure
Ive read somewhere about copyright matters and how there are certain statutes of limitations.
Thanks, Hermione, George said quietly. I think I just need to stew over a few mugs of but-
terbeer at the Three Broomsticks, clear my head and think about this whole ruddy... thing. He
picked his head up and looked sideways at me. Dont you have to meet with that obnoxious Shelly
woman this afternoon?
Shes not obnoxious and yes, I do have a lunch date with her. You seemed to find nothing
obnoxious about her when you were flirting with her the other day. I saw Hermione raise her
eyebrows in interest.
Flirting with a witch? Indeed, George, you simply must make up your mind, Hermione teased.
Rons teasing disposition from his Hogwarts days had partially rubbed off on her and shed lightened
up some.
 T HE T ROUBLE W ITH M EN 17

Why make up my mind when I can have twice the selection? George said with a grin. I let out
a relieved sigh, glad he didnt hold onto his anger like his immediate older and younger brothers.
Well, though Id love to sit here and tease George about his sexuality and make his ears turn
red, Ive got a lunch date with Shelly and her friend.
Friend? George said with suspicion.
Sean Ludlam, I answered. I have a sneaking suspicion that shes trying to set me up with
another guy. George winced at these words.
I hope it doesnt turn out like it did with Daniel. Oy, that was a disaster, George said. I put my
hands on my hips and snorted indignantly.
Shall we stop analyzing my failed love life and allow me to leave? I asked. Hermione laughed.
You two are quite amusing to watch. Youre like an old married couple, she observed. Always
teasing each other.
Married? To George? Hes the most disorganized, impatient, easily-annoyed wizard I have ever
in my life met. George looked genuinely offended at these words, so I threw my arms around his
neck and kissed him on the cheek. Id never marry him. I said, pulling out of his arms and getting
my cloak from the coat rack. But I wouldnt say no to the occasional shag. I winked at the two of
them, rather pleased with my regularly lurking wit.
She cant keep her thoughts clean about me, he said smugly to Hermione. I rolled my eyes,
laughing in spite of the comment, and put my cloak on. Stabilizing my giggles, I bent to pick up my
purse from the floor.
Allow me to add arrogant and severely misled to that list, I said, shouldering my purse. Before
he could put in another comment, I stuck out my tongue at him, waved to Hermione and Apparated
away.

*****

Dark and smelling of day-old butterbeer, the Leaky Cauldron was certainly a less than exceptional
place to meet someone for the first time. I weaved in and out of the tables, ignoring leers from the
shadier looking characters.
The small pub had changed a bit since I first wandered in to get to Diagon Alley. Whereas I
would have found many children in there when I was younger, there were mainly adults there now.
Tom, the friendly bartender who rarely charged kids for a small butterbeer, was gone. He had been
yet another MIA soldier of VWII.
Anya, over here! a female voice called. I turned and saw Shelly sitting in a booth across from
a nice-looking blonde man in simple black robes. She waved me over as he looked up to reveal his
face. Mmm, so perhaps Shelly hadnt picked so badly this time. I strode over and the two of them
stood.
Anya, this is Sean Ludlam. Sean, this is my very good and very available friend, Anya. I grew
red with embarrassment as I shook his hand, but he laughed good-naturedly. Oh, youll have to
excuse Anya. Shes remarkably shy with new people.
Its nice to meet you then, Anya, Sean smiled. Ooh, his smile was nice, too. Shelly sat and
deliberately placed her purse in the spot beside her. She gave a meaningful look at me as Sean sat
and I scowled at her as I slid in the booth beside him. Anything more and she may as well have set
up a candlelight dinner for just the two of us.
The talk was a bit stilted at first, as I had never had much in the department of conversational
skills. Give me a hippogriff and Ill be able to earn its trust in minutes, but I couldnt do the
same with people, unfortunately. After a while, I grew more into the conversation and found myself
laughing easily at Seans jokes and brushing off the smug look Shelly had on her face. It was
confidence like I had never known it before. Our food arrived and conversing came to a stop for
several minutes.
So where do you work? Sean asked, as he wiped a bit of ketchup from the corner of his lips.
I work for my best friend; he owns his own business: Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. Im a record-
keeper there, but hopefully its only a temporary job, I answered.
Yes, Shelly cut in, Anya and George are good friends. Friends. I sent another scowl in her
direction and she retreated to her peanut butter and jelly sandwich (an odd fetish of hers that her
American aunt had instilled in her at a young age). Sean attempted to hide his smirk as he looked
down at his plate. I reckoned hed caught on to Shellys dark ulterior motives right around the time
she began to complain that my house was far too big for a single witch. Her skills at being subtle
were about equal to my own with, say, Potions.
How about you? What is it you do to fill your time? I asked Sean as I looked over at him. He
18 H ARRY P OTTER

set his fork down for a moment as he swallowed. He opened his mouth to answer, but Shelly cut
him off.
Sean is studying Quidditch under Viktor Krum, Shelly said excitedly. Hes going to be a reserve
player on an international Quidditch team in the fall, isnt that right? Sean started to reply, but
Shelly went right on talking. Oh, look at the time! She threw her hands up in the air dramatically.
Ive got an appointment with... erm... well, thats not important, is it? Why dont you two finish
your food; youre getting on quite well! Ill pay the bill, as it was I who invited you two to lunch.
Really, this is horrible of me to leave so suddenly, but I do have that dastardly appointment. She
began to get up and collect her things. Now you two finish eating and keep talking; you really are
quite compatible. Ill be going now. Dont forget to owl, Anya. With a cheery wave, she scooped up
her purse and left the table.
Sean and I watched in silence as she paid for the food, turned back to wave again and then left.
That woman is a trip and a half, Sean said slowly, still looking at the door she had just exited
through. He turned his light blue eyes on me. Those were very pretty, too. I dont know how you
could have been her friend for so long. Shes not a bad person, but... does she always talk that
much? I snickered into my napkin before looking back at him, and then shrugged.
I guess, I answered. Why was it that I felt so uncomfortable under his crystal gaze? She was
a bit shy at Hogwarts.
Shy? Her? He laughed out loud and I couldnt help but giggle along with him. He shook his
head as he pushed his empty plate away. The edge of the plate hit the vase of flowers on the table
and almost knocked it over. Instantly, both our hands darted out and stopped the glass from falling.
My hand got there first and his covered mine a moment later.
I waited a few moments for him to move his hand, but he didnt. And somehow, I didnt mind
it. I drew my eyes away from our clasped hands and locked them with his. They seemed to be just
about as shy as mine had to be. No more shyness, I decided. I leaned close to him, closing my eyes
slowly.
Hey kiddies, hate ter innerup yer romantic momint, but yer buddy was two Sickles short on
yer bill, a gruff voice said from behind me. I spun quickly, color rising to my face. Jim, the not-so-
friendly bartender, stood slouching in front of me with a sheet of parchment, our bill, and a grouchy
look.
Oh... sorry, I said, reaching into my purse. I felt a flush at the back of my neck as I pulled out
two Sickles and stuffed them into Jims hand. With a leer and a nod, he shuffled off, favoring his
left leg considerably.
Sorry about that, I said, avoiding Seans eyes. He was probably glad to have gotten out of the
kiss, I thought, disappointed. Um... wed probably better get going then, I went on quietly, still
looking down at my folded hands and wanting to shrink into a little puddle.
Id like to see you again, Sean said softly. I looked up abruptly with raised eyebrows. Appar-
ently, he mistook my reaction and looked away quickly.
I mean... if you dont want to, thats okay. I understand He fiddled with his fork against the
table, not looking at me.
Id like that, I said quietly. He looked over at me and smiled hopefully, dropping the fork.
Really?
I nodded with a smile of my own. Really. I let out a short laugh. But we may be making the
horrible mistake of proving Shelly absolutely right about setting us up.
Oh, no! he moaned, dropping his face into his hands. He looked up and smiled at me. I
couldnt help but giggle back in return. Why was it that I felt like I was twelve years old again when
he smiled at me like that? I wont tell her if you dont, he said.
Lips are zipped, I agreed. We shook on it.
So, if you dont have any plans... Sean began, The company that I work for is having a Twenty-
Five-Years-In-Business Party at the Golden Snitch at eight oclock on Saturday. Its a huge, formal
gathering; they have an anniversary party every year. I was wondering if youd go with me. His
hand moved to go tinker with his fork again, but I answered him before he could engage in his
nervous activity.
Id love to, I answered softly. He broke into a large grin.
Wonderful, he smiled. Ill pick you up at seven-thirty then? I nodded and gave him my
address and my word that I wouldnt back out. We parted (reluctantly at that), with me wondering
why I hadnt met Sean Ludlam earlier.

*****
 T HE T ROUBLE W ITH M EN 19

Did I mention that he has the greatest smile? I said dreamily as I folded my arms over the books
in front of me and rested my chin on my wrist. I looked sideways at George, who was sitting beside
me, flipping through a book absently.
Only about a dozen times, Anya, he answered patiently as he closed the book. He rubbed
his eyes and yawned, leaning back in the wooden and severely uncomfortable chair. I bet Snape
ordered these kinds of chairs so he could even torture people after he died, he muttered darkly.
We were in the Severus Snape Memorial Library, looking up even more information about copy-
rights and trying to get a bit of a handle on the Parker Jackalope business, which wasnt listed in
any of the directories wed looked in yet. George swore up and down that Snape had put spells on
the bookshelves and directories, preventing the searcher from coming up with anything useful. I
patiently informed him that Snapes son, Silvanus, didnt build the library until after the former
Potions master had been killed in VWII. It still didnt stop George from accusing the teacher.
All prejudices aside, the library was very elegant and classy. There were over a score of rows of
long bookshelves and no less than one million spell books and reference directories. Dark mahogany
tables with hard backed chairs decorated the center of the establishment and it was always lit with
dozens of ornate candelabras.
It was too bad that Silvanus Snape, the (rumored to be illegitimately conceived) son of my tortur-
ous professor, was just as slimy and cruel as his father. He slunk around the library, turning up in
the most inconvenient of places and hit on anything female with a pulse. I didnt know exactly what
he did for an occupation, but he must have had a lot of free time, as he was constantly around the
library.
Maybe this company doesnt even exist, George, I said, as I gathered five books into a pile.
Maybe Fred is behind it. Or Bill; hes been known to play practical jokes on occasion.
No way. I went down to JPJPE headquarters and it is most certainly a real company. Why cant
we find a listing for it, though? Oy, this is frustrating. He stood with me and took the five books
out of my arms, adding them to his pile of six.
Maybe if you did a little bit of research, you would know that companies that sell to Muggles
and wizards dont need to register with the Department of Wizarding Commerce. Theres a separate
directory for them, a greasy voice hissed from between a pair of bookshelves. I gasped and stepped
backwards as Silvanus Snape slid slowly out of the shadows.
Slinking around the library again, Snape? George asked, annoyed as he shifted the books in
his arms. Or do you just give free advice to anyone who is unfortunate enough to stray across your
path? Snape raised a black eyebrow in amusement.
Simply trying to help the dear lady, he said, locking eyes with me. Im sorry if it inadvertently
helps you. He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. I flinched away violently at his
touch. Fiery little creature, arent you? Without replying, I scowled at him. I wasnt flattered in
any way by his attentions, as I had seen him do the same to other unsuspecting library patrons.
Thanks for your advice, I said, struggling to be polite, a virtue my mother had instilled in me
ever since I was old enough to remember. I shrank away from him a little bit; he always had the
ominous dominance of his father should have patented; the same trait that I had been terrified of
a mere decade ago. He took this as an inviting gesture and smirked. Before he could take another
step towards me, I said automatically, Leave me alone. He chuckled softly and I could see George
step up beside me out of the corner of my eye.
Aw, you dont mean that, do you, love? he asked silkily. In a split second, his back was pinned
against the bookshelves and Georges arm was pressed against his neck, causing him to gasp for
breath. George leaned in very close to Snapes face and spoke in measured tones.
I believe she said to leave her alone. Weve had enough of your good advice, George said
dangerously, pressing harder on Snapes throat. Instead of showing pain, Snape clenched his jaw
tightly and returned the glare. He tried to open his mouth, but George cut him off. And I dont
care that this is your fathers library. Will you leave us be?
Yes, Snape said, no sincerity in his voice and sounding as though he was not only choking, but
also agreeing to mow the front lawn of Hogwarts with a pair of nail clippers. George pulled his arm
away, but didnt step back until after Snape had Disapparated.
You didnt need to choke him, George, I said quietly. I can take care of myself, you know.
You were doing a damn fine job, George said a bit angrily. I ducked my head, if only to avoid
his eyes.
Im trying, I said quietly to the floor, half-hoping he couldnt hear me. I want to be able to take
care of myself. I dont want you to have to fight for me. Im not that fragile and Im not going to
break. I looked back up at him to gauge his reaction. Instead of being meek and passive, I lifted
my chin and looked at him defiantly.
20 H ARRY P OTTER

His imitation of a Stunned herring gradually disappeared from his face and was replaced with
slumped shoulders and a helpless look. Sorry, Anya, he said with a sigh. Its the big brother in
me, I reckon. I looked at you and Snape and I saw Malfoy bothering Ginny. Im... Im sorry.
Wow... heh... I sounded really spiteful just a minute ago, didnt I? I said. I was actually rather
proud of myself. Knowing I was a major hand in keeping 3W afloat, winning the attentions of an
attractive wizard and being able to stand up to my best friend did wonders for my confidence. As I
said before, it was confidence like I had never known it.
Just a bit... cmon, lets get going. I think I owe you an ice cream sundae from that Quidditch
bet last week. He bent down and picked up the books that fell out of his arms when hed lunged at
Snape and put them under one arm. I was just about to remind him to check out the books when I
remembered that wizarding libraries were different than Muggle libraries. After the two week limit,
the books would return themselves back to the front desk, where the librarian would Spellotape
any damages and send a charge to the last person who had it. When taking out a book, the name
was clearly became stamped on the back inside cover only to be replaced by the next recipients
name. Id been careful with all my books and had never once been charged. I was able to keep my
clumsiness from destroying other peoples belongings, at any rate.
We were just about to turn a corner when George held out his hand and stopped me. I opened
my mouth to ask what was wrong when he put his finger over his lips and pointed to the center
table. Just between the space between the top of the books and the shelf above, I could spot a
red-haired man sitting beside a bushy-haired brunette, undoubtedly Ron and Hermione.
I thought he had a Quidditch match, I whispered.
Maybe it was a short game, he whispered back. Ron had his chin propped up on his hand and
was watching Hermione read with a simple kind of fondness. Her reading glasses were perched low
on her nose. After a few minutes of Rons undivided attention, Hermione peered over the top of her
spectacles and looked at him with an arched eyebrow.
Youre creepy, she giggled softly. He didnt answer, only leaned closer to her with a dreamy sort
of smile on his face. I hoped I didnt look quite as absurd when I had been talking about Sean. She
forced a smile off her face and went back to her reading. Ron smirked at this and I saw his hand
counting off seconds beneath the table. At exactly five, Hermione dropped her book, plucked her
glasses off her nose, threw her arms around Ron and kissed him hard. I covered my eyes for a few
moments (to be polite, of course) and saw George snickering at me when I removed my hand.
Now leave me alone, she said simply, going back to her book. Ron leaned in close and whispered
something in her ear, causing giggles to burst forth. He kissed her ear gently and she squirmed
away from him.
Were so bad, I whispered, slapping Georges arm. We shouldnt be watching this. George
shrugged, relatively unaffected by his conscience. Suddenly, his eyes lit up mischievously.
Hey, can you still do that impression of Snape like you did back in Hogwarts? he asked
deviously, remembering to keep his voice low.
I can do any voice, I said arrogantly, throwing my long brown hair over a shoulder. George
grinned and nodded in his brother and sister-in-laws direction. I cleared my throat softly and
hummed a low note to prepare my voice for what I was about to do.
This okay, Weasley? I asked in a voice so identical to Snapes that I mightve scared myself.
George nodded, looking impressed. I drew in a deep breath.
WEASLEY! GRANGER! NO SNOGGING IN THE LIBRARY! I roared through the books, almost
terrified of my own impression of Snape. The voice worked, however, as Ron and Hermione jumped
apart as though theyd waded into a pond of Electrifying Fish. Ron fell out of his chair completely
and Hermione leapt up, looking around the library frantically. I turned away, putting my hand over
my mouth to stifle my laughter. George leaned heavily against the bookshelf, turning purple in an
attempt to stay quiet.
See you... back... at... 3W... he sputtered and Disapparated. I was right behind him.
When I landed on something soft, I had first thought it was Parrot Pillows, but then I realized
it was George in between the pillows and me. He was laughing loudly, his head thrown back and
his mouth wide open. I was laughing along with him as I rolled off him into the rest of the Pillows.
George picked up a pillow and put it over his face to stifle the sound of his laughter. Tears rolled
down both of our faces and I thanked Merlin that there werent any customers, lest they think we
were both complete nutters.
That... was... the single funniest... George tried to say, half-propping himself up, but he burst
into another bout of laughter and fell back into the pillows beside me. I sat up beside him, giggles
slowly dissipating, and wiped my eyes.
Their faces! I gasped, remembering the looks of sheer terror in their expressions. I put my
 T HE T ROUBLE W ITH M EN 21

hand over my stomach and caught my breath.

Im glad you two are having such a great time, a voice said evenly. I looked up, startled, to see
Fred standing behind the counter looking as though he was attempting to suppress fury, but failed
miserably.
This isnt what it looks like, George said, still snickering. We both Apparated into these
pillows... He finally composed himself and sat up beside me. Hey, arent you supposed to be
asleep?
I was asleep... until I came here to see how the shop was going and found this. He lifted up
a sheet of parchment that I recognized as the letter we were sent by Parker Jackalope Practical
Joke Enterprises. I gasped softly and looked to George, whom I had thought had had it. The smile
quickly disappeared from his face and he stood, sobering.
You werent supposed to George began.
I wasnt supposed to what? Know about what 3W is going through? The company is half mine,
as youve well forgotten! The volume and harshness in Freds voice brought back awful memories
and I made no effort to bring any attention to myself quite yet. Weasley problems were best solved
without outside intervention, which usually only served to complicate things. I would only get
involved if I had to.
Your wife has been in the hospital for the past week and you expect me to add more weight to
your shoulders? Trust me, Fred; its the last thing you need.
Dont think that just because youre six minutes older than me that you can tell me what you
think is best for
Im not talking about six minutes; Im talking about your six bloody I.Q. points! George
shouted, losing his patience. Before it could go any further, I stood and placed myself between
them.
You two are behaving like children! I said with a stamp of my foot. Fred, you were far too
distracted with your wifes health to get involved. George, dont tell your brother hes stupid. I had
the absurd urge to send the two of them to their rooms. Strangely, George and Fred looked equally
impressed with me.
The both broke out in identical grins and said, in unison, Yes, Mum. My arms flopped down to
my sides and I glared between the two of them.
She is getting fiery, George said to Fred, nodding towards me. I ignored him and crossed over
to Fred.
How is Angelina doing? I asked gently. Fred drew a deep breath as he spread his fingers out
on the counter and looked at them with child-like interest.
Shes still sick, Fred said, his voice sounding very tiny. The doctors said that it was blood
poisoning complicating with... with what happened when she was Sponged. Out of the corner of
my eye, I saw George pale slightly, excuse himself quietly, and go to the backroom. Fred continued
as though nothing had happened. She cut her hand on something and didnt... He took a moment
to compose himself. She didnt tell me. When she was in the hospital... I- I asked her why and she
said she didnt want to bother me with it. He let out a short, bitter laugh devoid of all humor. She
thought it would bother me.
Shell be okay, Fred, I said, answering my own question. Look, I know you two were on the
rocks a bit before what happenedI of all people know that (Fred looked a little sheepish.) I know
this sounds morbid, but maybe this will bring you two closer together.
Fred nodded slowly. I surely wont ever take her for granted again. He smirked a little in
amusement. Why didnt you go into psychowizardry?
Listen to a lot of nutters problems? Yeah, right. I looked at the closed backroom door and
frowned. Hadnt George just gone back there? Why would he shut the door behind him?
Youve got a lot of experience listening to nutters. You talk to yourself, dont you? Fred cracked,
looking a whole lot more like his old self.
Yeah, I said vaguely, still looking at the closed door. Look, Fred, Im going to see whats
bothering George. Ill get you up to speed on the PJPJE case in a bit, all right? He nodded, looking
a little worried, but didnt stop me. I gave him a tense smile, slipped behind the counter and slowly
let myself into the backroom.
The room was dark and I pulled out my wand, preparing to light it.
Dont, George said somewhere in the darkness. Somehow, the strange sound to his voice
combined with the dark room made me as nervous as Rons old pet, Scabbers, around Hermiones
late cat, Crookshanks.
George? What are you sitting in the dark for? I spotted movement where a dim ray of light had
22 H ARRY P OTTER

penetrated the dirty window and fell on Georges flaming red hair. He was sitting on an old couch
with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his hands. I crossed the room to him carefully
and sat beside him.
He turned to look at me and his eyes were slightly red around the rims and shiny right where
they were blue. He had the look of someone who had just been through something awful and didnt
know how to deal with it.
I just want to be alone for a little while, okay? I... I need to think, he said raggedly. I had
never heard him ask me to leave him alone since Katie Bells funeral almost eight years earlier. He
had sat alone in a back pew, not speaking to anyone. When I slid in beside him to ask how he was
doing, he said he wanted to be alone. I didnt argue then and I wasnt about to now.
Okay... you know you can talk to me if somethings bothering you, right? I asked. He nodded.
Thanks, Anya, he smiled and I saw a little bit of the old George coming back into his grin. As I
left, I closed the door softly behind me.

For all the Ron/Hermione fans out there whove been feeling the effects of the missing lovin from TiP, youre in for a
special treat! Ginny/Draco fans: fear not. Though theyre not in this chapter, they make a nice big appearance in the next
one.
Thanks to all of my reviewers, with whom this story is greatly enhanced: Juliette (Oy, sorry about the screwed up
computer thing. I hope Ive got it fixed now.), magical*little*me (I think Shellys horribly obnoxious, actually. J Hope
you enjoyed the Sean/Anya interaction.), Coriann (Look over those names again and you might figure out whos on the
memorial... and::sighs::no, George is not gay; hes bisexual. Did this chapter clear it up?), * *Ginny* * (Ackyou shouldve
seen the final scene before my betas chopped it to pieces.), Slaybelle (Mysterious little character, isnt she? And where
would the fun be if you knew everything?), Kris (Who says he wont come to his senses? But then... who says he ever will?),
8Nocturnal8 (Reader of few words, eh?), Susan (Try reading each story closely for some more hints...), HGW (Aww.... Dont
feel bad!), and Sphinx (Thanks! Hope you continue to enjoy both stories.). Big thanks to K and Simon, who spoke to me on
HP Paradise or off-list.
Ambiguously yours, JanaBelle
You cant be sure. Once youre sure, youre screwed.Jim, The Mole
Ironically enough, he was the last to be eliminated.
 C HAPTER F OUR

The Calm Before The Storm

They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.

Edgar Allen Poe

Another one of your rooks bites the dust, George announced triumphantly, watching as the strug-
gling chess piece was dragged away. I scowled at him and made the next move. Playing chess with
George (losing horribly, of course), was always fun, especially when he pretended he wasnt letting
me win. After finally taking one of his pawns, I looked up to see that he wasnt looking at the board
any more. His eyes were focused on a spot somewhere behind me. I turned in my seat and saw he
was looking at the top of the staircase leading from the girls dormitory.
Katie Bell stood at the top of the stairs, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders.
She was standing alone, a book tucked casually in her left arm and blue eyes sparkling in the
sunlight streaming from the large window. I had always been horribly jealous of the girls looks and
popularity. Who wouldnt be? She had the attentions of the majority of the male population, even if
those attentions were passing whimsy.
My best friend and truth be told, pretty much only real friend, had joined the masses and had
become unbearably smitten with the attractive Gryffindor Chaser in past weeks. He often came to
me for advice on girls (Since Fred had told him that girls really liked to sleep with frogs in their
beds, I was the only one whose advice he trusted.) and I tried to give guidance on how to approach
the potential relationship, but it wasnt exactly my strong department.
Wow, he said quietly. I turned around and looked at him. His eyes were locked on her and his
jaw was practically resting on the chessboard.
Watch out or youll swallow a bug, I said dryly. He didnt react.
Men are so animalistic, my black queen said from her spot on the board. They see one
attractive female andpoof- all rationality is out the window! She glared at her husband, who was
leering suggestively at Georges eyelash-batting queen. She gave him a hard rap on the side of the
head and he fell to the ground, surprised. I smirked at them and arched an eyebrow at George,
whose ears were flushing red.
Go ask her, I urged him. Since I had gotten him to admit that he had a crush the size of the
giant squid, hed been trying to get up the Gobstones to ask her to go with him to Hogsmeade the
next free weekend. Closest thing to a date you can get while attending a boarding school, I had
told him. He looked uncertainly between the chessboard and me. I was just going to let you win
anyway, I insisted. He grinned at this and began to stand, his hands resting on the table.
Wish me luck? he said a little nervously. I nodded and patted the top of his hand.
Youll do great. May the Force be with you. My Muggle father was a science fiction movie
fanatic and he had me watch the entire Star Wars series at least once a year. George looked at me
strangely for a moment, gave a reluctant thumbs-up and headed for Katie.
Sorry, guys, I said to the chess pieces. Looks like well see each other again next rainy day.
I cleaned off the board and put my pieces into a tiny satchel, one my mother had left for me in her
will. In my mind, I could see my fathers eyes tearing up as their lawyer read the parchment. No,
no, no! In the past, I told myself.
Ill play, a voice said from across from me. I looked up and saw Hermione Granger sitting in the
seat across from me, looking almost unnatural without a few books clutched tightly to her chest. I
promised Ron that I would play chess against him this afternoon and I would like to beat him just
once before graduation. I could use all the practice I can get. I smiled gratefully, nodded and set
up the board again.
24 H ARRY P OTTER

Hermione held control of the white pieces and I, the black.

George is quite taken with Katie, I see, Hermione said.
Oh, definitely. But then, who isnt? Hermiones black knight advanced forward and took two
white pawns in successive turns. I think a nice healthy crush is good for him. He needs it to take
his mind off... well... everything.
I could use something to take my mind off everything, Hermione said, planting her chin on
her hand and gazing down at the board with chocolate eyes. She continued to speak and I didnt
dare interrupt her. Spilling emotions to someone whose last name wasnt Potter or Weasley was
unheard of. She reached out and fiddled with a pawn before dramatically sliding it into my rook
and removing my dark piece from the board.
Ever want something so badly... so much... and then be denied it? I opened my mouth to
answer, but she continued. Would you ever settle for something quite similar... something that
made you happy, but it just didnt fit right? I took a moment to think about this. I wanted my
mum back more than anything in the world. I prayed for some sort of mistake, some error, which
would give my mother back to me alive and healthy. I was denied such happiness. So I settled for
being raised by my father alone after that. I loved him and I was happy, but things would never
completely fit the way it was when it was all three of us. Hermione took another two of my pawns.
Knight advances, takes rook. Is it worth all the suffering to get what you really want... if something
else will make you almost as happy?
I think so, I whispered. I picked up my bishop and slid it across the board in front of the king.
Check. Hermione looked down at the board, puzzled. Hermione, youre smart and youre pretty
and youre talented... I cant imagine you not having something you want. Everything, Hermione,
is right at your fingertips. I mustve been concentrating too hard on being profound and didnt
see Hermiones rook sneak inconspicuously across the board and plant itself before my king with a
defiant smirk.
Maybe... maybe not, she mused. We were silent, then, as the chess pieces hopped into their
satchels and the two kings worked together to try and fold the chessboard. Hermione and I were
friends, I suppose, but each day I saw her, she was a little more different. A little less like me, a bit
farther. She was slipping away slowly, I knew that much, and I wondered whose arms she would
fall into.
Just as I folded up the chessboard (somehow, two tiny pieces of ivory couldnt do it themselves),
I caught a hulking shadow out of the corner of my eye near the slightly ajar portrait hole. I turned
quickly, my heart pounding. Something wasnt right. The shadow remained there, but no one was
standing nearby to create it.
I looked back at George, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs talking to Katie. She was
smiling (a bit artificially, to be honest) but George was positively beside himself. Neither noticed the
shadow. Hermione had curled up on a pouf with a book and there were about five other Gryffindors
in the common room. I was the only one who noticed the shadow. When I turned to look back at it,
it was gone.
Odd.
Curiosity killed the little girl without enough sense to keep her nose out of everyone elses busi-
ness, as my father used to say. I walked over to the portrait hole and looked around. Nothing. I
creaked the portrait open slowly and looked each way down the corridor. No one. I shrugged and
turned to go back in, but the Fat Lady was gone, probably off to gossip in another portrait.
Oh, bollocks, I muttered, scuffing my feet on the ground. A short walk would do me good
anyway, as my legs were a bit stiff from being curled up in the chair. I looked down at my feet
as I walkedas I always didand saw that there was a smudge of something on the top of my left
sneaker. I never was all that neat. I was so completely absorbed in looking at my shoes (never took
much to amuse me), that I ran smack into someone.
I snapped my head up as I recoiled a few steps and gasped loudly. It was a shadow, standing
straight in front of me in the center of the hallway. As much as I had been astounded by all the new
things I encountered in the wizarding world, this most certainly was not anything I had encountered
before; I had only read about it in books.
I backed away slowly, my heart pounding in my chest. Get a teacher, my mind screamed.
Someone had to know someone was in the castle, unauthorized. Someone who made himself Dim.
Dimming is a complicated magical process and is usually only available to those who are im-
paired in another magical field. Only the most powerful of wizards and witches could have Dim-
ming capabilities along with full magical talent. Without the aid of a cloak, invisibility is impossible.
The closest thing in the wizarding world to invisibility is to be Dim. Skilled observers are the only
ones who can see those who enchant themselves Dim. Like Muggle eyes slip right over the Leaky
 T HE C ALM B EFORE T HE S TORM 25

Cauldron entrance, amateurish spectators dont see Dims; their eyes just arent trained for it.
The shadow darkened and colorized but my eyes focused on a dark brown roda wandpointed
directly at me. My wide eyes remained frozen on the wand as the figure surrounding it became
three-dimensional. A person materialized before me, but I couldnt quite make out the face under
the dark hood of the flowing robes. Im not quite sure I wanted to, as the voice was familiar.
Out on your own. You never were bright. Pity, pity, the voice hissed, cold as death. The world
around me dipped in temperature until it was freezing cold. I knew that wasnt how it was supposed
to be. I was trembling badly, but I was sure it wasnt from the lack of warmth.
Respori
Someone far away shouted, NO! and a blast of blue light shot out of the front of the hooded
figures wand. All of these things came together as my chest cavity tightened and I felt that my
feet were no longer on the ground. A sharp pain in my head drew my senses together for one brief
moment and then darkness closed around me.

*****

HELP! I screamed as I bolted upright into a sitting position. My chest heaved as I easily inhaled
lungs full of fresh, clean air. I ran a hand over my forehead and wiped sweat from my brow as I
attempted to control my breathing. Third time this month. I could never remember the nightmare
the memorybeing quite so frequent. I turned and looked out my window. For a moment, I was
confused by the fact that it was still light out. Then I realized that it must have been nearly noon.
Was it Sunday? That sounded right.
I threw my covers off and swung my feet over the edge of the bed. I placed my face in my hands
for a moment, letting the last remnants of the nightmare slip out of my mind. It would never truly
leave; I knew that much, but it was better not to dwell on it. Since when had I done things that
were right for me?
The content of the dream, hellish as it was, was factual. It happened. An innocent chess game,
a glance at a shadow, a five minute walk...
I suppose I mightve been the one victim who got off the easiest.
The first day of the Scourge is a day that will be remembered in wizarding history for as long
as we survive. Never before had innocent children been murdered in a place that was prided to
be one of the safest in the wizarding world. Of the 2000 students and forty-six faculty members,
1808 students and nine faculty members were left standing at the end of five months. Standing,
of course, in the most literal sense of the word. Many eventually went mad from the witness to
bloodshed and the horror of lost security. Those who survived didnt have the luxury of a wiped
memory.
It was an average Thursday afternoon in March 1996. Three days after Rons birthday, if memory
serves me. Students were wandering the grounds, doing homework or even playing chess.
I found out later that it would be the known as the deadly calm before the storm.
Over one hundred Death Eaters were able to slip into Hogwarts unnoticed. They were all
Dimmed. A few other survivors reported seeing the shadows I did, but none were stupid enough to
go out walking after it. Eventually, Professor McGonagall, either seeing a Dim herself or a student
reporting it to her, alerted the students all over the grounds and sent them to their dormitories.
Meanwhile, I lay in the Charms hallway in a pool of blood.
I was never told how I got from the hallway to the infirmary. Someone did tell me that they saw a
student carrying me, but couldnt discern an identity. I often wondered why the Death Eater hadnt
killed me, when so many others had lost their lives in the following weeks. Heor she, maybemust
have been protecting their cover. Allow a student to go running to the Headmistress? Never. But kill
them and arouse suspicion? Couldnt happen. I had been found near a staircase; it was supposed
to be an accident.
Mine was hardly the only blood shed. The murders took place in the hallways, outside on the
steps and within the dormitories. Some were subtle deaths, disguised as accidents. Others were
blatant murders leaving no question as to the intent. Cold bodies were left lying across beds, on
the stairs, and floating in the lake. The body of Rubeus Hagrid, my teacher, mentor and the first
magical person I ever met after my mum, was found suspended in mid-air in the Great Hall, floating
like some sort of oversized grotesque marionette puppet. The first day of April gave the world a look
at what was left of Padma Patil in the Forbidden Forest. Laura Madley, a second year Hufflepuff,
lay sprawled across the Quidditch stands, all of her blood neatly bottled in a vial beside her just a
week before April ended.
We all thought it had come to an end when six days passed without deaths. We all paused to
take a breath, to readjust to normalcywell, as normal as things could be under the circumstances.
26 H ARRY P OTTER

Maybe thats what made it so easy for the Death Eaters to catch us off-guard.
The May Day Massacre humbled us once more. Our lives would be forever changed after the
horrific display of blood and killing. Of the remaining survivors of the Scourge and the Massacre,
sixteen ended their own lives within three years of the horrendous event. Another eight were com-
mitted to the psychiatric ward at St. Mungos.
As Ive said, I was one of the luckiest.
No one believed I had seen a Dim. Not at first, anyway. McGonagall dismissed it as a sharp
knock to the head clouding my senses and that I dreamed up the entire matter after a nasty spill
down the stairs. Then again, she may have just said that in case she feared the Dims were listening
in. I would never know. George gave the standard, I believe you thought you saw someone in the
hallway but never met my eyes when I discussed it. It was as though he knew something more
about what had happened, but concealed it out of some sort of embarrassment or guilt. I never
knew why or what his secret was. I wasnt exactly sure I wanted to know.
Rubbing my face vigorously to physically wake myself up and banish the memories from my
mind, I stood and walked to the kitchen yawning. I stumbled over something soft and furry and
caught myself before tumbling to the ground.
Meow? Stevie asked. I bent down and stroked my cats head; he purred at my soft touch.
Troublesome little bugger, I said, ruffling his fur. He wove in and out between my legs as I
walked through the doorway into the kitchen. You think you can just lounge around here and
drink all my milk and expect me to tolerate you, dont you? He just widened his big, blue kitty eyes
and nuzzled my left ankle before trotting off.
I started for the coffeepot when I realized that a glass of wine would better calm my nerves. It
had to be after five somewhere in the world. After pouring myself one, and curling up in my big,
soft armchair that I had seen my dad read the newspaper in every morning for years, I was finally
calm enough to prepare for the day. My date with Sean wasnt for another three hours according to
the clock on my kitchen wall (Oy, I had slept in late.). Plenty of time to take a long, hot bath, catch
up on some reading and be ready in time for his arrival.
I had only put away the wine and washed my wine glass when the upbeat song of I Put My Hand
in There from Hello, Dolly! resounded through my house. Id had extra time on my hands one rainy
afternoon and had enchanted my doorbell to play different Muggle Broadway songs.
I answered the door, still in my pajamas and with my hair looking like a hippogriff had slept in
it. Shelly was there, a large bag over her shoulder. I kicked myself for completely forgetting that she
was coming over to, as she put it, prepare me for the first night of the rest of my life. As soon as I
had told her about Sean asking me to be his date, her switch had been flipped on Red Alert.
Whats up? I yawned as I let her in the house. She stepped in excitedly and embraced me in a
warm hug.
Good afternoon, dearie! Well, I just cant believe youre not dressed yet. You lazy slug, she
teased. I smirked, knowing full well that she loved to rag on me because of my late rising status.
Now where shall I set up? She looked around the room distractedly before settling her eyes on me
again.
Er... set up?
Oh, over here will do nicely, she decided. She crossed the room to an empty spot and pulled
her bag off her shoulder. I watched, as she seemed to take a never-ending assortment of beauty
products, both magical and Muggle, out of her bag and assemble a parlor table and mirror.
Um... whatre you doing? I asked, running a hand through my hair. Ugh... a shower was
definitely in order.
Getting ready to get you ready, of course, she said, as though I had just asked her what my
own name was. Now why dont you take a shower and itll be easier for me to work with your hair
all nice and wet and clean and straight then?
Ive got almost three hours until Im going to be picked up... I told her. Why dont we just
Shelly looked scandalized at my very words. Or I could go take a shower now. Forcing away
another yawn, I crossed to my bathroom, yanked a towel out of the hall closet and disappeared
behind the closed door.
Thirty minutes later, the door swung open again and I stepped out with my body wrapped in one
towel and my hair in another. After changing into old jeans and a t-shirt (Muggle clothes were SO
much more comfortable), I pulled the towel off my head and shook my hair like a wet dog. I may
have had to get up ridiculously early but there was no chance I was going to wear scratchy dress
robes for any longer than I had to.
With flair and an overexaggerated sidestep, Shelly pulled the chair shed Summoned from my
kitchen table and gestured for me to sit. I sat, smiling sleepily from the warmth of the water Id had
 T HE C ALM B EFORE T HE S TORM 27

in the shower that made my muscles turn to jelly. I looked at my reflection, crossing my eyes and
sticking out my tongue.
A bit giddy this afternoon? Shelly asked with a smile as she looked up from her bag of make-up.
Uh huh. I yawned one last time and shook my head, all at once realizing how hungry I was. I
began to stand, but Shelly placed her hands on my shoulders and stopped me.
Where do you think youre going? she asked, in a disapproving motherly sort of voice.
I groaned softly and lowered myself back into the chair, wondering how I had ever let Shelly talk
me into this.
I have until seven-thirty, I had told her. Cant I just have some time to sit down and relax
andoof! Shelly had grabbed my hand and plopped me down in the chair before I could finish my
sentence. She had fretted over my hair and finally decided to straighten it even more and curl soft
tendrils around my face. I wanted to look at it, but she refused to let me see until she was all done.
She even tried to put Muggle make-up on me (Spells dont work nearly as well as Muggle powder,
Anya.), but I drew the line when it got excessive. My freckles were covered for no one.
At six-thirty, she informed me that neither of my two dress robes was dressy enough for the
event. Thus, she (surprise, surprise), brought over some of her own.
I was touched by her attention to making sure I had the night of my life, but she just got a bit
overwhelming. I was just thinking of the nicest way to tell her to back off a little, when she pulled
the most beautiful dress I had ever seen in my entire life out of her brown bag.
Pale blue with long, delicate sleeves, the dress must have cost a fortune. A thin black stitching
of flowers traveled all the way around the bottom hem. It was the exact same dress I had seen in
Witch Weekly. It looked too short for Shelly, but just the right size for me.
Try it on, she invited, amused, as my low-hanging jaw slowly closed.
I couldnt... I whispered. Id tear it or... or... Id ruin it or something. Oh, it must have cost a
fortune!
Dont worry about it, love. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but now is a better
occasion, dont you think? She turned her head sideways and held out the dress for me.
I... its beautiful... I said, taking it gently from her. I was almost afraid I would damage it by
merely holding onto it. I... I dont know how to thank you... all this...
Just let me be maid of honor at your wedding, Shelly said with a smile, And well call it even.
I smiled and nodded as I looked at the dress. I imagined myself in it dreamily.
I need someone to give me away, dont I? I said absently, still focused on the dress. I looked
up at Shelly, whose smile had faded. What is it? I asked. She had a funny look on her face, as
though she was casting pity on me.
Youre a lot stronger than you think, Anya, she said slowly.
Oh, no. Dont you start with that you-lost-your-whole-family-youre-the-strongest-person-I-
know rubbish because you just want to make my ears turn red. Besides, you know I couldntve
made it through without my friends, I replied before I let myself get upset. Shelly never could quite
understand how I could get through life without having any family left. Sometimes, I didnt even
know.
The smile returned to Shellys face. Go get dressed then, silly. I grinned broadly, the tension
eased and headed for the bathroom. I emerged a few minutes later, fully dressed in the blue robes.
As I was changing, I found myself wondering if maybe Muggles ran the company Sean worked
for and that was why he had avoided telling me about his workplace. I asked her this as soon as I
came out of the bathroom. She came up to me, fussing with the hem and answered.
Well, it is run by a wizard, but the company also sells to Muggles. I talked to Sean about it
and he told me that wizarding attire would be best, as its held at the Golden Snitch in Diagon
Alley which is very off-limits for Muggles. Oh, and I remembered the name of the company: Parker
Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises.
Uh-oh.
What? I asked, my eyebrows rose nearly to my hairline. Perhaps I had heard wrong. There was
no way it could be the same company.
Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises, Shelly repeated absently as she adjusted my hair.
Its kind of like Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, but PJPJE sells to Muggles, too. A pity, too, as they
cant use too much magic in their products.
Oh, I said profoundly. I told myself it wasnt a big deal. Its not like hed deliberately kept the
information from me. But had he been vague on purpose? Doubtful, as Sean didnt come across
as the type of person who would hide the information. Then again, I didnt know him all that well.
Maybe he had felt awkward about it after hearing about me working at 3W.
28 H ARRY P OTTER

Love, you look pale as a ghost; are you sure you dont want any make began Shelly, but I cut
her off.
No freckle-hider, I said. She giggled at this and put her hands up in mock surrender. She
circled me like a vulture, studying me carefully and making minute adjustments.
Then I believe Im finished, she announced, placing her hands on my shoulders. Hows this
for the pretty girls mousy friend? Shelly asked in a whisper as she turned me around to face the
mirror.
Whoever was reflected in the mirror was most certainly not me. Her dark brown hair fell grace-
fully over her shoulders and soft tendrils of the same colored locks gently framed her face. Her
green eyes shone brightly through dark-as-coal eyelashes and her red lips were slightly parted in
wonder. The witch in the mirror was not me. The witch before me was beautiful.
I winked with my left eye. So did the reflection. I winked my right eye. So did the reflection. I
wrinkled my nose and stuck out my tongue. So did the reflection.
What have you done to me? I whispered. Shellys reflection frowned.
You dont like it? she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment.
No, no, I said quickly, still trying to convince myself that the mirror was showing the true
reflection. Its just that... I look so... not... me. I look beautiful. Shelly broke out into a wide grin.
Oh, you are beautiful, dearie! I just turned your quiet beautiful into a loud beautiful. She
clapped excitedly.
Deafening, I agreed, recognizing my freckles and beginning to accept the illusion. I touched my
face and the witch in the mirror did the same. This is wonderful. Shelly waved off my words.
I know I got a bit pushy with you and Sean earlier... Understatement, I thought. I just wanted
to fix things. I smiled at her and pulled gently on one of the curls near my face. I giggled, far too
easily amused, as it bounced upwards.
Youre just a grown-up little kid, you know that? Shelly said with a smirk. Now stand up
and let me see how you look. Not used to the shoes Shelly had lent me, I wobbled a little but
straightened and held my balance. Shelly circled me slowly, blue eyes studying me carefully.
Hmm... shorter heels, I think, she said. A quick murmur of a spell and I felt myself sink a
few inches closer to the ground. Ah, much better. Lets see... maybe if I pulled back some of your
hair... just half up... curl the ponytail... She tried this, wrapping the pulled back hair around
her wand and whispering, Circlium. Honey, you are an absolute dream come true! she said,
stepping back to look at me. If that man doesnt fall head over heels in love with you, I will give up
matchmaking and makeovers forever. I almost laughed at this last remark, as Shelly just wouldnt
be Shelly without her beautician-esque qualities.
The sound of The Music and the Mirror from A Chorus Line playing through my house dis-
tracted Shelly from her alterations.
Hes here! Shelly clapped excitedly. Oh, you wait in the bedroom then, love, and Ill come back
and get you when its time, all right?
But Im ready... I began, confused. Shelly put her hands on her hips and shook her head
impatiently at me.
That doesnt matter! Its customary to make a man wait... Absence makes the heart grow
fonder.
I guess... I said uncertainly.
You look wonderful, dearie. Youre going to make him melt into a little puddle at the sight of
you. She gave me one more once over as the volume of the music rose several levels, meaning Sean
was getting impatient with the doorbell. Shelly nervously fixed a ringlet of hair and scurried to the
door. She waved me towards the bedroom and I went inside, my stomach tying in knots.
I sat patiently on the bed, reciting all the different species of dragons, an old nervous habit of
mine. Antipodean Opaleye... Chinese Fireball... I heard Shellys tinkling laughter and Seans low
voice asking where I was.
Oh, shes just putting the finishing touches on her make-up. Shell be out in a few minutes,
Shelly replied. I scowled at the slightly flirtatious tone that her voice took. Common Welsh Green...
Hebridean Black... They made small talk for a few moments and then I heard Shelly say loudly,
Why dont you have a seat and Ill see if shes ready yet? Ah, my cue, finally. I stood and smoothed
down my dress. Hungarian Horntail... Norwegian Ridgeback...
Shelly poked her head in my room.
Time to go, love, she said excitedly. I took a deep breath, telling myself that it was only a date
and it was only a party. Where everyone else is going to be positively beautiful and youre just an
awkward mousy little nothing, my inner cynic taunted.
 T HE C ALM B EFORE T HE S TORM 29

Shut it, I muttered. Shelly looked at me, hurt. No, not you, I said quickly. She frowned and
her eyes searched the room quickly. Finally, she shook her head and opened the door wider for me
to exit. I slowly (and solely out of fear of falling with the new heels on) left the room and walked
quietly into the sitting room.
Sean Ludlam was standing in the idle of the room, holding a small replica of an Ashwinder, my
absolute favorite magical beast. The tiny creature is pale-gray with glowing red eyes. The actual
creature only lives for an hour before dissolving into a heap of ashes. Their eggs, unhatched and
frozen, are important, irreplaceable ingredients in Love Potions.
I cleared my throat politely and Sean looked up abruptly. His lips parted slightly as he saw me
and his fingers bobbled with the Ashwinder. He was able to snatch it out of the air with his left
hand quickly (Seeker material, definitely) and placed it on the tea table, his eyes still not leaving
me.
You... he began, and then swallowed nervously, You look very beautiful. I blushed red and
caught myself before I could shake my head.
Thank you, I said quietly. It was just then that I noticed his attire. He was wearing dark blue
robes with a light blue tie that had palm trees on it. It somehow seemed to match his dirty blonde
hair and crystal azure eyes, if only in a boyish sort of way. You dont clean up so bad yourself, I
offered. He looked down at himself, breaking his eyes from me for the first time, and chuckled.
What, this old thing? he said with a dismissive wave. I laughed as he offered his arm to me.
Shall we go?

*****

From the moment we entered the Golden Snitch, the timid Anya inside me wanted to run home,
away from the loads of witches and wizards present, and hide beneath the covers of her bed with
her cat, Stevie. Any chance of that happening dissipated when we stepped inside and handed our
coats to the bouncer, Marcus Flint. He nodded us through after checking our names off the list
and then he grunted and pointed to an open guest book on a tiny table with two quills lying in the
crease.
I smiled politely and let Sean lead me to the table. He picked up a pen and signed his name is
flourishing script. I picked up the other and signed my name inconspicuously beneath it.

Sean Ludlam
Anya Parker

Our names looked so... strange right next to each other. They looked so completely different that it
almost seemed they belonged together.
Youre overanalyzing this, Parker, I told myself. Shut it and have a good time. I smiled up at Sean
as I set the quill down. He was running his fingers gently over the list of names, looking confused.
He seemed to catch himself and shake his head furiously. I pretended not to notice what hed done
when he looked over and smiled at me uneasily.
Why do they keep a guest book? I asked. Most company parties, at least for 3W, were come
and go as you please rather than a checking in and out sort of thing.
At that moment, the orchestra began to play a slow waltz. And it wasnt some pathetic five-piece
band wannabe. It was a full orchestra with an expansive woodwind section and resonating brass.
The percussion was soft, but accented the song so wonderfully you would think it was controlled
by magic all on its own.
Care to dance? Sean asked, offering a hand. I smiled shyly and took it.
Sure, stranger. The next moment found me in his arms towards the edge of the dance floor. I
felt warm there; maybe not safe (Not that I thought he wasnt a gentleman, but I always have had
trouble trusting new people), but warm was definitely a step in that direction.
We didnt speak, but it was a well-filled silence. The music and lively chatter of the guests
around us filled the room so much that speaking would only make it more crowded. It also gave me
a chance to get a good look around.
Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises definitely had money to throw around, or at least
played off the facade that they did quite well. I had heard from the Prophets Society pages that The
Golden Snitch was a seedy place, but I could see nothing seedy about it. Great banners with the
company name emblazoned across the center festooned the walls. The text flashed between green
and orange, the company colors. There were thin strands of fairy lights lined the borders of these
banners and twinkled all different colors.
30 H ARRY P OTTER

The main dance floor was filled with couples, but enough room to move around a bit. The
orchestra was off to the left side of the Snitch and one large table raised high above the floor was
occupied by what looked to be the higher authorities of the company.
Thirteen people sat at the table, six of them women and the other seven men. Hmm... it was
nice to see that even if Parker Jackalope was a royal pain in the arse, he wasnt a sexist. My face
fell slightly when I saw that all the females were drop-dead gorgeous and seemed to be very scantily
cladeven for a flashy party. Five of the six were each leaning very close to the nearest male, giggling
shamelessly. It was rather pathetic actually.
The only female who seemed to have respect for herself (and taste in clothing) was seated at the
far left end, tapping her quill on the side of her water glass. With an annoying expression, she
brushed a lock of dark blonde hair behind her ear and began to scratch on her parchment.
My eyes wandered from her and started down the table... but they stopped on the man in the
middle.
Parker Jackalope.
My first impression of him was that he was almost handsome in a dark, sinister sort of way. He
had black eyes set back in his face and dark hair combed with the utmost precision. From what I
could see, he seemed to be a well-built man with squared shoulders and a jaw to match. When I had
finished looking him over, the only part of my initial judgment that remained was the sinister part.
I had absolutely no doubt in my mind that he would think nothing of shutting down 3W without so
much as a blink of an eye.
His gaze shifted from the entrance and locked with mine, so penetrating that I shivered. I stepped
forward Sean almost involuntarily and he wrapped his arms more snugly around me.
Are you okay? he asked, looking down at me. I hadnt noticed until then how tall he actually
was. I nodded and rested my head softly against his chest, closing my eyes halfway. It was amazing
how long the song was, but I didnt particularly mind.
So that was the man that wanted to take Canary Creams off the 3W market. Bubotuber-sucking
prat. His company had enough money to throw elaborate parties such as these every year and
he still felt the need to send off stuffy copyright notices to competitors. They were probably even
falsified reports, too, as it was far too much of a coincidence that someone with the last name
Jackalope was tied to the registration of Canary Creams in the first place.
The song came to a slow, sweet ending and I pulled slowly out of his arms.
That was nice, I said shyly. He smiled and agreed.
Sean! Sean, old sport! a voice called from across the noisy room. A few partygoers looked
disapprovingly over their shoulders and raised their snobbish noses at the jovial man breaking his
way through the crowd.
The first time I laid my eyes on the man, I had the distinct feeling that I had met him before.
In fact, there was something about him that was so familiar that I was positive I had seen him
somewhere before. But another part of my mind insisted that it was more the mannerisms of the
wizard that I recognized than physical features.
Hello, Sean said politely, as though he didnt know the man from Merlin. The new stranger,
who had dark brown hair with matching eyes and a nose that looked just a bit too small for his
face, didnt seem to notice.
Dont think Ive introduced myself yet, the stranger said with an apologetic smile. The names
Gatsby. Jay Gatsby. If I had been drinking something, Im sure I would have choked on it. Since
my father had given me my mums old dusty copy of F. Scott Fitzgeralds The Great Gatsby, it had
been my favorite Muggle work of literature. My mind spun as Sean and Gatsby shook hands.
Meeting a man that seemed terribly familiar to me and happened to have the exact same name
as my favorite literary character cranked the nights weird-o-meter up to a solid eight. I watched
as Sean and Gatsby exchanged conversation, Gatsby becoming more and more exuberant as the
discussion continued.
And who is this lovely lady? Gatsby asked, seeming to notice me for the first time.
This is my date, Anya Parker, Sean said, looking mildly annoyed. It didnt escape me that he
accented the word my as Gatsby lifted my hand gently and pressed his lips to it. A shiver ran
down my spine at this, but I wasnt entirely sure it was a bad thing. Sean didnt notice, or if he did,
he didnt say anything.
What do you think of the party so far, old sport? Gatsby asked. His accent was definitely faked
and I could not tell exactly what sort of voice tone he was going for. Jackalope is doing a fine job of
ignoring everyone, he said with a nod towards the head table.
Sean smirked at this and relaxed a bit.
 T HE C ALM B EFORE T HE S TORM 31

As always, he said. The smarmy bloke thinks hes too good to consort with us pitiful em-
ployees. No wonder nobody likes him. This seemed to be just the thing Gatsby wanted to hear.
They continued to talk and I kept an attentive eye on the both of them. The more relaxed Sean got
around Gatsby, the more excited my literary hero became. Sean wasnt aware of it, but Gatsby
was asking a lot more questions than he was answering and was skillfully dodging most questions
asked of him. There was definitely something amiss about Jay Gatsby.
It wasnt until two hours later that a thin-faced white-haired wizard stood up at the front of the
head table and requested that everyone take their seats. Sean took my hand and led me through
the crowd (Gatsby had disappeared a while ago, looking for another employee to suck information
from) and we snagged a pair of seats at a corner table.
That bloke was strange, Sean said, seating himself beside me. I nodded vehemently. Know
him?
No, I said slowly, I cant help but think Ive seen him somewhere before, though... I shook my
head. Ill think of it sooner or later. Actually, he behaved more as though he knew you.
Now it was Seans turn to shake his head. Never saw him before in my life... not around the
shop anyway.
Shop?
Well, thats where I work at PJPJE. I help in the shop, testing out new products. Drives my
sister bonkers when I give her children prototypes. We both had a good laugh over this. We talked
family for a while and I found out that he had two sisters, but was closest with his cousin, Maureen,
a professional Quidditch agent who had an exceptional talent for chess on the side.
Shes wonderful, really, Sean said. Horribly arrogant when she wins at chess and she always
does I had a brief flash of my nightmare, but shook it away quickly. But a wonderful person.
Strong, too. Shes always someone I can go to for advice.
He told me a little bit about his sisters, Evelyn and Gwendolyn, and I avoided as many questions
about my own life as possible. Unfortunately, he was a lot better at getting information out of me
than out of Gatsby and I ended up giving him the Witchs Digest version of my life.
When I was fifteen, my mother died and my older brother disappeared within a few months...
My grandparentsboth setsdied when I was very little. For a while, all I had was my father; he
was a Muggle. He died of heart problems a few years ago, I said to my now-empty wine glass, not
wanting to look up at him. I would get the standard look of pity and then the hollow Im so sorry
of someone whos never experienced so much as a sick pet. I finally raised my eyes to meet his.
I know it hurts, he said softly, placing his hand on top of mine. It doesnt get any easier with
time, does it? I shook my head slowly. He had been there. He had been there. Before I could break
the ensuing awkward silence, a loud voice resounded through the Golden Snitch and all attention
snapped forward.
Welcome, all, to the Fiftieth Anniversary Party of Parker Jackalopes Practical Joke Enterprises!
the thin-faced wizard announced. The room exploded in cheers and only sparks from the speakers
wand would calm down the crowd again. As you all know, PJ Enterprises leads the entire wizarding
and Muggle worlds as the most successful practical joke suppliers in the United Kingdom! More
cheers broke off and I felt like a traitor to Fred and George as I clapped along. And before we get to
the speaker of the evening, the wizard said, with a nod towards Jackalope, who only stared stonily
back, I would like to introduce the companys top investor, Mr. Draco Malfoy.
For a moment, I was too stunned to clap as Draco took the spotlight, but finally was able to hit
my hands together a few times before the noise in the place subsided. Draco Malfoy was the creator
of Malfosoft, the wizarding version of the Muggle Internet. As quick as the traditional owls were,
e-owls were faster. As informative as the gigantic wizarding libraries were, the Malfosoft Wizarding
Web offered endless, accurate information in the blink of an eye.
Maybe thats why so many people despised him.
In VWII, the majority of the wizarding world assumed he would follow in his fathers footsteps
and become one of the most powerful Death Eaters alive. After his mum, Narcissa, was Sponged
in early 1997, some say he became a special spy for McGonagall and got a special place of honor
in the Order of the Phoenix. Others say he went out for blood on his own terms. Whatever it was,
he became one of the most valuable weapons we had in the war. Those that had him pegged for an
evildoer ate their words. I dont think they ever forgave him for that.
Through all my reminiscing, Draco gave a speech about success in the wizarding world and
the need for commerce to be of top-notch quality and how he was investing in the future. Well-
rehearsed, too, I was reluctant to admit. He had a way with oration so that the entire audience was
attentive to his every word. Still listening, I let my eyes wander around the crowd until they fell on
Ginny Weasley, Dracos current conquest as the Prophets Rita Skeeter disciple Rachel Ratliff said
32 H ARRY P OTTER

in a most scathing column the previous November.

Ginny was beaming with something that looked like pride. Dracos eyes flicked over to her every
few moments and he would look right through her as though she wasnt even there. A flash of hurt
flitted through her eyes each time this happened. It was at times like this that I believed the horrible
rumors that were circulating about him. I just wished Ginny wouldnt be so damn blind sometimes.
Draco closed his speech and nodded at the crowd as if to say, I was just the event of the evening;
now you may go on with your insignificant lives. The mans pomposity drove me positively bonkers,
but far be it from me to make judgments.
Just as Jackalope took the microphone, I started to feel a funny tickling in the back of my throat.
In an attempt to ignore it, I finished the end of my fourth (or was it fifth?) glass of wine to subdue
it, but soon it became a raw feeling that descended down my windpipe and into my lungs.
Excuse me for a moment, I rasped to Sean.
Are you all right? he asked in a low voice, eyebrows furrowed together in concern. I nodded.
Ladies room, I lied, forced a smile, and made my way inconspicuously out of the main hall. I
leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the gradual feeling of my chest closing.
I pulled my wand out of my robes and did an Airway Opening Charm on myself, and the discomfort
slowly dissipated. I opened my eyes again and took a moment to reorient myself before starting
back for the main banquet hall. Before I could step through the curtains, however, I was distracted
by the sound of conspiratorial whispering.
I still think that Jackalope is clean, but just plays hardball, the smarmy git, someone was
saying in a low tone.
No way; theres something fishy about this Jackalope bloke. Hes rude to his employers because
he doesnt want them getting close, another voice replied.
As much as I hate to say it, Malfoy would never invest in a company if he didnt make sure they
were clean. Have you any idea how his social standing would collapse if it got out that he invested
in a company that was involved in illegal activities?
Maybe this is a one-time only thing, then, trying to shut us down. I stepped back and peered
around a corner. Between a pair of potted plants, two men were watching Jackalope give his speech.
One I couldnt identify. The other was Gatsby.
Not a chance. This guy is business-like: wants to eliminate competition. I watched their
mannerisms and analyzed their speech carefully, trying to understand. Then, as obvious as the
pain of a Hippocampus stepping on my foot, it hit me.
George and Fred.
What are you two doing here? I demanded in a low hiss as I stalked up behind the both of
them. The two men spun quickly, looking as though their hands were caught in the Canary Cream
jar.
Excuse me, miss, but this is a private matter, the second manwho had never given me a
pseudonymsaid, squaring his shoulders indignantly. Fred. Thought it was a strangers face, only
Fred himself could only duplicate the expression he wore when in trouble and was trying to get out
of it.
Yeah, Ill bet its a private matter, Fred. Dont look at me so shocked; the two of you couldnt
impersonate your way out of a paper bag. Gatsby, you really should have come up with a better
name. I mean, really, George, you cant possibly pick my favorite literary character, do a terrible
impression of him and then expect me not to know its you! What do you think you were playing
at? The twins, not looking at all alike, stared at me soundlessly.
How did you know? Fred finally got out.
A combination of overhearing your conversation and knowing your mannerisms better than your
mother does. Now Im trying to have a perfectly lovely datewhich I was doing until my stupid throat
started hurtingand Ive got to come back here and tell the two of you that spying on Jackalope not
only is wrong, but will never hold up in a magical court of law.
But were this close, Anya. No one around here likes Jackalope. Hes a conceited, horrible
person and no one would be surprised if he pulled a copyright scam. Please dont blow our cover,
Fred begged, clasping his hands together.
Your throat hurts? George repeated, frowning.
All right, I sighed. I wont say anything. But I do know we can win this thing without the two
of you sinking to their level.
But its so much fun sinking to pond-scum depths, Fred said with a grin. George nodded. I
had to roll my eyes at them and made a mental note to ask Angelina where she got the patience. I
also made a note to tell them someday that pond scum floated on top of the water.
 T HE C ALM B EFORE T HE S TORM 33

Go back to your date, George said with a nod towards the curtains. Im sure youre already
missed. I couldnt tell exactly what he meant by that last statement but I didnt inquire.
Dont get caught, you two, I warned and tried my best to give a peeved-Molly-Weasley look.
All three of us ended up in giggles. I regained my composure and went back to the banquet hall,
Exploding-Snap-faced. I slipped between the curtains and slid back into my seat beside Sean.
He leaned over and asked in a low tone, Are you all right? I nodded at him and slid my hand
into his under the table, feeling a bit guilty for having lied to him. He looked surprised for a moment,
but then closed his hand around mine as we watched Jackalopes speech come to its end. From
what I did hear of the speech, he seemed to amuse himself by sending out backhanded compliments
to employees that were doing well in the company and snide remarks about those who werent doing
so great. In my expert opinion, the man was a great big prat.
So may we all raise our glasses to another full year of prosperity for me and for my business,
he said, tone full of arrogance, as his hand lifted his wine glass. Before he could make a toast, a
loud voice called out from the back of the room.
Daddy! it called. The voice was high-pitched, female most definitely. I turned with the rest of
the crowd and laid my eyes on a very tipsy witch with long blonde hair and green eyes dull with
incoherence. She staggered from side to side, holding a bottle of Ogdens Old Firewhisky in one
hand and wiggling the fingers of her free hand at Jackalope.
Jackalope, meanwhile, turned purple and looked as furious as he was embarrassed. The other
twelve company officials looked mortified, with the exception of the classy woman, who looked
slightly entertained. Finally, he sputtered, Hunter, what are you doing here?
No wonder no one knew of the mysterious son of the companys president. Hunter Jackalope
was a woman.
Daddy, I just wanted to come to thehicparty! she giggled, waving at all the guests. But you
forgot to send me an invitation. At this, she began to cry into her free hand dramatically with loud
sobs. Im trying to make you happy, Daddy! I even made sure those mean Weasleys dont hurt your
business! At this, she slumped to the ground and several men rushed to her side. She staggered
to her feet and pushed them away as I shot a horrified look at Sean. He was looking back at me
and I knew hed made the Weasley connection. For a moment, I was mortified; he would probably
feel terrible for inviting me to the Golden Snitch to celebrate the success of a rival company. I hope
my eyes forgave him.
The next few minutes were a blur, passing by with spurts of activity. Jackalope had abandoned
his spot in front of the crowd and mustve left his dignity behind as well, as he was calling out for
stretcher-bearers as he knelt beside his unconscious daughter. He whispered her name frantically,
stroking her hair. The arrogant man with the pompous aura disintegrated until all that was left was
a worried father.
It wasnt until after Jackalope left the Snitch with his daughter and the stretcher-bearers that
the party began to disperse.
Want to get out of here? Sean asked, leaning close to my ear. I nodded up at him and allowed
him to lead me out. I wasnt quite sure how we got through the crowd and got our cloaks, or how
we got out of Diagon Alley, but the next thing I remember is walking down Siegel Court (my street
in Hogsmeade), arm-in-arm with Sean.
What was Hunter saying about... about your friends business? I was silent for a moment and
he didnt implore further.
A little while ago, someonewe thought it was Jackalope himselfsent a letter to 3W saying that
we had a product that was a copyright infringement with a PJPJE product and we had to take it off
the market or... I paused a moment. Or we would have to risk legal action. I looked up at him
and was surprised to see him smirking, his features dimly lit in the pale moon glow.
And you still went to the party with me? he said, sounding a bit impressed.
Well, I didnt exactly know until Shelly told me just before you arrived.
So you wouldntve gone with me if youd have known?
I shook my head quickly. I would have gone... but I would have had a miserable time because I
would know the entire time that it was you behind it all, I teased.
Ah, my secret! he cried out into the night air. I giggled and shushed him. We continued down
the block, talking and laughing about the evening.
That Gatsby was a bit of a nutter, wasnt he? Sean remarked casually as we came up to my
front door. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head.
Quite bonkers, indeed, I replied, unlocking my door with my wand. He smiled warmly at me.
I had a wonderful time, I said quietly.
34 H ARRY P OTTER

Me, too, he murmured. Id like to see you again.

And again and again, I added in my head.
So would I, I said aloud. We were getting closer, very slowly, and the next thing I knew, my
lips were pressed against his. His lips were a bit rougher than Id expected, but they pressed very
tenderly against mine. When we parted, I felt a bit dizzy, like a sixteen-year-old who had just
sneaked behind the Three Broomsticks to kiss her boyfriend.
I wasnt sure exactly what I said next. Maybe my memory was fuzzy that evening because of the
five glasses of wine Id had, but the parts that were crystal clear were the touch of his hand and the
sound of his voice and the moments his eyes met mine. But the next sharp memory I had was of
another gentle kiss and him Apparating away with a wave.
Giggling like a first year, I went inside the house, closing the door softly behind me. I didnt have
any nightmares that night.

Huge thanks to my betas: Ebony, John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady Christina, Virgo, JM Robin and Pippin. An extra super
special thanks to Ebony, whos letting me write this. Remember to check out the HP Paradise list if you want to discuss or
read the incoming chapters before (or after!) theyre posted to ff.net. Thanks everyone! And.. er... G/D fans... I... heh...
kind of lied when I said the couple would have a big appearance in this one. ::ducks:: Its an appearance... but its small.
::whimpers for forgiveness:: Dedicated to Virgo, who tolerated a night of me being positively evil to her and still speaks to
me.
Reviewer Thanks: Minzzer (Ah, the H/H ship is stuck rock hard in your mind, huh? ::shakes head:: Gotta open your
mind, Minz! Hope your exams went well.), Coriann (Dont worry too much about itits really tough to figure out, as I havent
given you much information... yet.), HGW (I think everyones favorite part of the story was the Snape imitationit certainly
was the most fun part to write!), **Ginny** (I wish Sean was real, too. The only problem would be that I would take him from
Anya!), las brujas chismosas (My Spanish isnt too great, but you guys [if this is from more than one person] are... witches?
Erm... gossiping witches? My memorys fuzzy. Anyway... would you really want a big spoiler about the romantic pairings?
What am I talking about? Of course you do! Well, Im not telling so nyah. J And yeah, I hope to make the reasons and cause
of the event well explained in this fic.), VIOLET (ff.nets been a little buggy lately, but it always pulls through.), Juliette
(YES! I cant stand Shelly either and cant understand why others can even tolerate her! First, the woman enters the story a
whole chapter too early and then she has the Gobstones to FLIRT with George!), Leap (Thanks! I was worried she would be
stuck the same way for the whole fic without changing. Oy, characters like that annoy me.), magical*little*me (Im not at
liberty to say just yet, but you will get more information in TiP8, I believe.), Sphinx (Sorry! Would it make you feel better if
I told you he died heroically? Not that he did... Or did he? ::evil wink::), Julia McGonagall (Thank you! ::turns a bit pink::
), Moriel (Thank you so much for your encouragement! You have NO idea how blocked I was on this chapter... reviewers
like you make it worth the extra head pounding! By the way, it was HP Paradise.), Katie D. (::turns rather pink:: Thanks
so much! You totally made my day! And yes, the writers block is doing much better. J And no, its not bad to think that.)
Queen C (Thanks! Seanll be glad to hear you think hes gorgeous.), Vicki Granger (Ah, a reviewer of few words... thanks
nonetheless!) Gryffindor (Yep, I got her permission before I even started writing the story. And yes, Sean seems perfect,
doesnt he? ::cackles::), and Rogstar (Excuse me while I have a JKRish moment, but Well spotted! Okay, moment over, but
I must say you are quite the sharp-eyed observer.) . On-list or in private mail, these four lovely people took time to comment
on Chapter 3: Simon (H/H forever! Harry/Hedwig, that is.), Ebony (My ever-so-patient Mum... well, most of the time. J),
Brigid (Did you know your name is the same as a goddess? And no, thats not a pick-up line... its the truth!), Pippin (The
mastermistress, reallyof filking!), and K (Master Malfoy is quite taken with you...). They listened to my babbling, too! I
hope everyone liked this chapter. It was a bugger to write!
JanaBelle AKA George Weasleys Girlfriend
Iguana: The Other Green Meat
 C HAPTER F IVE

Drink With Me

Drink with me
To days gone by.
Can it be
You fear to die?
Will the world remember you
When you fall?
Could it be your death
Means nothing at all?
Is your life just one more lie?

Grantaire, Drink With Me, Les Miserables

Over the next few weeks, Sean and I owled back and forth. Weird work schedules (Jackalope was
crueler than ever now that everyone at the company knew his daughters problem.) prevented us
from seeing each other as often as we would have liked, but we were able to meet for the occasional
lunch. I learned more about him, but dodged enough questions about myself that he finally took
the hint that Anya Parker wasnt one of my favorite subjects.
Something was amiss about him, though. It was almost as though he was trying terribly hard to
impress me and he was never the one to decide where to eat. Up to the lady, he would say with a
smile. It was just a bit unnerving, but I suppose he could have worse traits.
My nightmares worsened for a while, but never changed. Soon, I found that a glass of wine
before bed would stave off my demons for a while. Over time, it was taking a bit more wine each
night to take the night terrors out of my sleeping pattern, but what was a little hangover in the
morning in return for a good nights sleep?
Shelly, of course, needed every last detail of the evening at the Golden Snitch. I told her ev-
erything except George and Freds espionage mission. She was relieved with the Hunter revelation
and I told her wed gotten a formal but stiff apology letter from PJPJE. George had gotten it framed
and hung it in the shop as a joke. She looked annoyed when I mentioned Dracos speech and his
demeanor towards Ginny, but not surprised.
That man is an absolute prat. Ever since the war, hes been positivelywell, so full of himself!
Then Malfosoft, Shelly added, rolling her eyes as we took a seat in Florean Fortescues (Theyd
recently opened another shop in Hogsmeade and expanded to carry all sorts of magical candy.). As
if the man couldnt get any richer. I heard he donated three million Galleonspocket change to him,
reallyto a computer literacy charity. Can you possibly think of a colder cause?
I couldnt, but my defend-the-absent reaction sprang up involuntarily and I said, I read that
rumor, too, in Rachel Ratliffes column. AngelinaFreds wife, you know (I thought I saw something
pass through her eyes, but as soon as I was aware of it, it was gone) I know she told me once that
Rachels the next generation Rita Skeeter. And you know what I think of that woman.
During our sixth year at Hogwarts, Rita Skeeter published several articles discrediting Harry
Potter, using everything from his mental health to his rumored love life with Hermione Granger. The
Harry Potter books, published by that awful Rowling woman, reprinted several of them. What the
books failed to include were the articles on the other Hogwarts students and staff. Unfortunately, I
was the target of one such article. According to an inside source (Draco Malfoy himself, no doubt),
I was ordering Fluffy to attack other students; rather than the truth, which was calming him down
and leading him back to Hagrid.
Needless to say, the woman was not my favorite person and Skeeters biggest fan isnt too high
on the list either.
36 H ARRY P OTTER

Okay, maybe youre right, but I still dont like that Malfoy... Shelly trailed off before completely
finishing her thought. Her eyes were fixated on something behind me and I turned to see a large
group of people entering Floreans, including George and Fred, laughing loudly about something.
George waved at me with a huge grin and I smiled back.
When I turned back around, Shelly was taking our ice cream sundaes out of the waiters hand
and placing them before us. My friend had a morose look on her face as she swirled her spoon in
the vanilla ice cream before her, head bowed so I couldnt see her face.
See someone you know? I asked casually, dipping a spoon into my knickerbocker glory.
Something like that... she said and didnt meet my eyes. I frowned, worried. Shelly was the
paradigm of a bubbly, outgoing person with no dark secrets and no sad memories. Though money
had been tight with her family when she was young, just as it was with the Weasleys, her parents
had done everything they could to keep her childhood as joyful as possible. Id never known her to
be depressed and on the odd occasion she was upset, a few jokes and some advice would cheer her
up.
I can read you like a book, Shelly, I said, leaning across the table. She still refused to meet my
eyes. Come on, theres something youre hiding from me. I dont keep any secrets from you... She
continued to ignore me, pushing her spoon around the dish aimlessly, face hidden. I sat back in
my seat, half-worried about her and half-angry about her lack of trust in confiding in me. Fine,
I murmured into my ice cream and lifted a spoonful to my mouth. We ate our ice cream in tense
silence, with me wishing she would just say somethinganythingto break it.
Fancy running into you here, a voice said from behind me. George and Fred stepped up on
either side of the table and made themselves comfortable with assumed invitation. I forced a smile
at the two of them and noticed that Shelly had stiffened considerably and ducked her head even
lower. Were just here for a quick minute to grab some lunch, George explained.
I eyed the large container in his hands labeled Chocolate Covered Mangoes (The bloke had a
weird diet) and arched an eyebrow.
I see youre going for a healthy, well-balanced lunch, I quipped. George shrugged with a What
can I say? sort of smile and Fred laughed, though he really had no place to do so because of the
box of Fizzing Whizbees in his possession. Shellys head dipped even lower and she had ceased all
movement. I kicked her beneath the table as George bit into his first mango. She sat up straight,
eyes wide and looked at me with a pleading sort of desperation. She mouthed something to me, but
I couldnt tell what she wanted me to do.
At that moment, Fred turned his head to see her. As their eyes met, his face changed slowly.
The next expression to grace his features I would never be able to quite describe. The closest thing
I could think of would be shame with perhaps a twinge of embarrassment.
Hello, Fred said quietly.
Hi, she whispered in a choked voice. Georges eyes found a spot on the wall and remained
there.
I had the distinct feeling that everyone at the table knew something and I was the only one being
left out. I clenched my fists beneath the table and counted silently to ten. This always happened,
with me being the one not knowing but far too polite to ask. Finally, Fred cleared his throat and
stood, shifting his package under his arm.
Catch you back at 3W, he said, looking over my head to George. His twin nodded and Fred left,
watching his feet as he walked out the door. I looked between George and Shelly, who were both
neatly avoiding my eyes. They both knew and neither of them trusted me enough to tell me what
secret was being passed around.
Fine, I said quietly. Just thought you guys might be able to trust me. Georges head snapped
up at this and he began to shake his head. No, I said before he could get a word out. I understand
perfectly. No one wants naive little Anya to know anything. I pushed my knickerbocker glory away
from me and stood up angrily.
Anya, wait, Shelly said, just as I began to turn away. I froze, not turning back to her, but not
walking out either. Ill tell you everything. My shoulders slumped; I definitely had some sort of
complex that prevented me from staying angry with someone for too long. I looked over my shoulder
at Shelly. Please. Reluctantly, I returned to my seat at the table at the same time George stood to
leave.
Girl talk, he said, by way of excuse. Yuck. He nodded and bade goodbye to the two of us,
then left. I pulled my ice cream back towards me, and then looked up at Shelly.
Do... do you promise not to hate me? At this point, Shellys tone and behavior was seriously
frightening me. I slid my hand across the table and wrapped it around hers in that comforting way
George did to me when I was upset. A long time ago... over a year now... She paused and lifted
 D RINK W ITH M E 37

her frame, throwing her shoulders back and raising her chin. I could see the confidence return to
her features. She had a look of determination in her eyes as she continued speaking. Fred and I
had... a night... together.
I blinked for a few moments, not quite understanding Suddenly, my eyes widened. Fred and
Angelina had been quite unstable at times, but I could tell by the way they looked at each other when
the other wasnt watching that their love ran deep and wasnt ever in question. Their stubbornness
and tempers, however, were matched a bit too well. I never thought either of them would ever betray
the other.
How did it happen? I murmured. Her face relaxed at this, probably because I didnt tell her
straight out that what she had done was wrong.
It was a long time ago, she repeated. Before Angelina was pregnant. They had a bunch of
rough spots... really close together. She said something awful to him... told him she didnt love
him or something like that. He went out drinking at the Leaky Cauldron. I guess he couldnt deal
with her anymore that night. She took a deep breath and began to speak again in a stronger
voice. I saw him, then, from across the room. You know I fancied him at Hogwarts. I nodded,
remembering the giggles and passed notes during Charms about the newest males that had fallen
into our crosshairs. Shelly, much to my surprise, never really went out of her way to get to know
Fred, but gushed about him in countless notes. So I went up to him... we got to talking... Anya,
you wouldnt believe how drunk he was. I took advantage of him. I... I seduced him. We got a room
above the Leaky Cauldron... She was crying now, very softly, and I tightened my hand around
hers.
Then what? I whispered. She laughed through her tears and then withdrew her hand from
mine to wipe them from her face.
Oh, Anya, you werent kidding when you said you were nave. What do you think happened,
love? I offered a small smile.
Well, I know what happened... but after that? What did he say? Did you two talk about it?
Shelly shook her head as she blew her nose into her napkin and wiped the final tears from her
cheeks.
He was gone before I woke up, she sniffled. I was torn between being disapproving of her
behavior and sympathy for her plight. She shouldnt have given into temptation. A woman should
have more willpower. But Fred should have cleaned up his mistake instead of leaving her to wonder
what had really happened. I saw him with his wife in Diagon Alley the next week. He was holding
her hand... then, they kissed. These words didnt seem to make her weaker and more desolate.
Instead, they seemed to strengthen her and, amazingly enough, her features betrayed no evidence
that she had been crying.
Did you love him? I blurted out before I could run my comments through the tact-o-meter and
weed out stupid comments like the one Id just uttered. She looked at me with a sad sort of smile.
Dunno. But I dont think so. He and Angelina are the perfect pair. They were meant to be. I
suppose... I suppose I was just frustrated that he didnt love me. You and I both know how it was
at Hogwarts. What Katie Bell was to Gryffindor, Shelly Walters was to Hufflepuff. I look back at
those days and see how foolish we were as children. She shook her head. I dont think I loved
him. And I certainly dont love him now. It just... hurts a lot. Im actually rather relieved that I
dont. It must be horrible to watch someone you love love someone else.
It doesnt make you a bad person, you know. If you did love him, I mean. Its not wrong to feel
an emotion. I shrugged. You cant help it.
I hate to disappoint you, Shelly chuckled, But I dont spend my days and nights dreaming of
him. It just smarted a bit to see him after all this time. She drew in a deep breath and pulled
her wits about her. The Shelly I knew and loved returned and I was overjoyed at her reappearance.
Melodrama worthy of As The Cauldron Turns, no? she joked, quoting a popular wizarding soap
opera. We laughed ourselves silly over this, the final tinges of tension draining away. Now, please,
Id rather not talk about me anymore. Let us speak of your whirlwind romance with a certain
Quidditch player...
My spoon became quite interested in my ice cream as I blushed. Whirlwind, this romance was
indeed not. I adored Sean, I really did, but at times it seemed as though he didnt have a mind of
his own. When choosing where to go, he would let me pick every time. Granted, he did order his
own meal, so perhaps I was just being paranoid.
Weve got a date this Saturday. Picnic in Primavera Park.
A picnic! How romantic! Is that the park with Faeries Mirror Lake where its always spring?
Shelly asked excitedly, ice cream forgotten. I nodded. Shall I book a church for next Wednesday?
Oh, and whats your ring size? Shelly asked innocently, not able to completely hide the wicked grin
38 H ARRY P OTTER

touching her lips. I groaned. I definitely had my Shelly back.

*****

At ten after noon that Saturday, I Apparated in front of 6123 Cauldron Lane and knocked on the
door. Sean told me to be there at noon, but stupid cat had done almost everything in his power to
delay me. I often wondered why I kept the feline around though it gave me nothing but hassle. But
when it came to kicking out that sad-green-eyed little fluff ball, I couldnt bring myself to do it. I
knocked again, a little impatient.
Come in! I heard Sean call faintly. Its open. I creaked open the door and stepped inside the
warm house. The front entryway was neat and tidy, hardly the appearance of a typical bachelor
pad. I closed the door gently behind me as Sean came through an archway off to my left. He grinned
broadly, blue eyes warm.
Who is it, love? a female voice called from the other room. Involuntarily, my eyebrows narrowed
with suspicion. He had seemed too perfect.
Am I interrupting something? I asked, careful to keep an edge out of my voice. Sean looked
guilty beyond words for a moment, then took my hand and pulled me towards him.
A chess match with my cousin, but I was losing anyway. Would you like to meet her? he asked,
looking down at me with a small smile. I nodded, fighting down a tinge of remorse for jumping to
conclusions. He smiled again and pulled me into the sitting room behind him.
Standing beside the chessboard in his sitting room was a beautiful witch with long, dark hair and
brown eyes the color of mahogany wood. Her skin, a pale olive, combined with her other features
convinced me that this woman had some sort of gypsy roots in her family tree. Her eyes were large
and friendly, and her full lips curved in an amicable smile. When she saw me, the smile faded for a
moment, but then returned quickly, warmer than ever.
Mo, this is Anya Parker. Anya, this is my famous cousin, Maureen Ludlam, Sean announced
proudly. I dropped his hand to shake hers (She had quite the firm grip). Her smile widened.
You can call me Mo... no one calls me Maureen. And I am not famous, she added, reaching
out to smack Seans shoulder, but he jumped out of the way just in time.
Shell never admit it, Sean said, circling around me to stand at my side, but Im the cousin
of the worlds greatest chess player. She rolled her eyes at him as she sat back down at the
chessboard. I remembered his comment at the party about Mo being arrogant when she won at
chess, but the witch before me seemed awfully humble. Oh, dont you look at me like that, he
teased her.
Ignore him, Mo said in a low voice as she gestured for Sean to sit across from her. Ive not yet
won the All-Wizarding Chess Tournament or even gotten to the finals. Im hardly famous.
Yet, Sean teased, then turned to me. Would you mind if Mo and I finished our chess game?
he asked. I shook my head.
No, Id love to watch. My friends brotherRon Weasleyis quite the chess player himself, when
hes not on the Quidditch pitch, I told Mo as Sean went into the kitchen to get me a chair.
Ron Weasley, hmm? Sounds familiar, Mo said absently as she studied the chessboard. My
eyes widened a bit at this, as most witches in my generation would have given their entire Gringotts
account to have five minute alone with the Red Weasel. Big shot Quidditch Seeker, isnt he? I
tried to hide a smile, never having met someone so unimpressed with Ron. She looked up at me
and I nodded, just as Sean came back into the sitting room with a chair.
Mo won easily, with almost no losses.
Dear cousin, you must work on your game, Mo teased as they put away the board and pieces.
Maybe next time youll capture one of my pawns, she winked as she tucked her satchel of pieces
into her robes. Well, Ill leave you two lovebirds be for now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Anya.
After shaking my hand again, and then giving Sean a firm hug and a kiss on the cheek, she left.
Would you like something to drink? Sean asked as he raised himself up onto his toes to put
the chessboard on the top shelf of his closet. Giving in, he used his wand to levitate it upwards and
slide it easily on top of the shelf.
Sure, I replied, studying the pictures on his mantelpiece.
Is wine all right? I know its a bit early, but my mother always said...
... It has to be after five somewhere in the world, I finished with a laugh. Sure, a glass of
wine would be great. He grinned and disappeared into the kitchen again. I looked at the pictures
on the mantel and smiled at the shot of Sean holding Mo upside down, both of their faces alive
with laughter. The next shot was of an older woman who resembled my mother just a little bit, but
I suppose all mothers seem to have a vague resemblance. The woman was wearing proper dress
 D RINK W ITH M E 39

robes and had just the slightest hint of a smile on her thin lips. I moved my eyes to the next shot,
but I felt a hand come down on my shoulder suddenly. I spun around quickly and found myself
looking up at Sean.
Hi, I said breathlessly. He smiled and handed me my wine glass. It struck me just then that he
was rather tall, not exactly dark, but quite handsome indeed. Nice work, Shelly, I said silently, as
he gestured for me to sit on the couch. I tucked my feet under myself like I always sat and watched
as he knelt by the fireplace with his wand, poked a few logs, and started a fire. Cheater, I smirked
as I took a sip of wine. He sat beside me and set the wine down on his coffee table.
Cheater? he asked, confused.
Well, Im Muggle-born, I started reluctantly. Sometimes I think magic is an easy way out
of problems... I envy Muggles sometimes. Theyve got a higher average kinetic intelligence. They
havent got the same spells and easy solutions we do and have to think on a higher level. Magic is
almost like cheating.
I never thought of it that way... he said thoughtfully, turning more to face me. What was it
like growing up with a Muggle father? Was magic practiced openly in your home? I nodded and
reluctantly told him some of my home life. It had always been a bit painful to talk about it with
anyone but George or Shelly, but as I was getting more comfortable around Sean, it was a bit easier.
I also noticed that we were sitting a lot closer towards the end of the conversation than we were in
the beginning.
And I wasnt entirely uncomfortable with that.
Soon, our knees were touching softly and Seans arm was resting gently on the couch behind
me. His face was very close to mine as he spoke and his voice was deep and rough. Suddenly, his
fingertips were touching my jaw very lightly as I spoke. As his fingertips moved slowly over my lips,
I fell silent, far too caught up in the moment to care what I was saying.
Sean... I breathed softly, just before his lips pressed to mine urgently. I let out a soft mmph of
surprise, but did nothing else to protest. I felt his arms wrap themselves securely around my waist
and my arms found their way slowly around his neck. The way he kissed me seemed so... confident,
so sure, as though wed kissed like this thousands of times before and he knew exactly what he
was doing. My heart was beating rapidly and I could feel his shoulder blades moving beneath my
fingers. He was pushing me backwards very slightly and I felt his hands
I cant do this, Sean gasped suddenly, breaking away from my lips and turning his face away.
I looked up at him, breathing heavily, dizzy from both the kiss and the shock of him pulling away.
What... what do you mean? I asked with a frown. The look in his crystalline eyes as he turned
and gazed down at me made me want to burst into tears. He gave the impression of harboring some
sort of terrible grief behind his eyes. I... I mustve... mustve done something wrong. I dropped
my head shamefully and moved to stand, terribly humiliated. Im sorry. He caught my arm and
turned me to face him before I could get to my feet.
I felt him put a finger under my chin and force me to look up at him.
You did nothing wrong, he whispered. It wasnt you.
What is it then? Tell me whats wrong.
I cant do this to her, he muttered, shaking his head. I promised myself I wouldnt... and I
cant. For one crazy moment, I thought he was talking about Mo, but that was probably the wine
messing with my thoughts.
Who? I whispered. It was desperately important for me to know what was going on.
My wife, he murmured softly. Never before in my life had I ever struck someone in the heat of
anger, but at that moment, I was so sick of being lied to, so embarrassed at being taken advantage
of and so tired of having things kept from me that I lashed out at Sean.
I slapped him soundly across the face. His head turned sharply to one side with the slap and
his eyes closed.
I am so sorry, I gasped, instantly shameful. It was absolutely ridiculous, but all I could think
about was that my mum and dad would have been so disappointed in my behavior. Not that I felt
he wasnt a complete and total git, but violence was out of the question. I reached my hand up to
touch his cheek gently, but he shook his head and waved my hand away.
Dont be sorry; I deserved that. Im going to tell you everything. He stood up and left the room
for a moment. I waited awkwardly, head spinning a mile a minute. What more was there to tell? Id
just been some naive fling whod nearly been swept off her feet by a handsome Quidditch player. I
was only a distraction to him. He reentered the room with a thick photo album bound with string
and sat beside me again, only this time not as close. He untied the string with trembling fingers
and the pages splayed open on his lap.
40 H ARRY P OTTER

The inside of the front cover had an inscription:

To my favorite cousin in the whole wide world

This is wishing you best of luck in your marriage and a place to hold the memories of those
times.
Mo

Mos handwriting was neat and precise, but still had a unique style. On the opposite page was a
picture of Sean in formal marriage dress robes and a broad smile. His arm was hooked through the
arm of the woman beside him who looked exactly like... me.
I took the album from him slowly and rested it in my own lap. Leaning forwards slightly, I
squinted and realized that the likeness wasnt quite as perfect as it had seemed at first glance, but
the resemblance was still striking. Her hair was shorter than mine, and wavy. Her eyes were a light
honey brown while mine were very dark. Her cheekbones were higher and she was an awful lot
prettier than me. She had her head tilted slightly towards Sean and the smile on her face told me
that he was the only one in her eyes.
How could you do this to her? I whispered, not daring to allow myself to speak louder for I
mightve shouted at him until I became hoarse.
I always promised myself I wouldnt, Anya; youve got believe me. She and I talked about it once
and she said she wanted me to be happy, to move on, if anything ever happened to her...
Happened to her...? I repeated, confused. He frowned back, just as confused, then his eyes lit
with understanding.
Oh, no... you thought...? I may not be the greatest person on the planetnot that I havent tried
to convince you otherwisebut I could never do that. Never. I avoided his eyes, terribly embarrassed
yet again, but with the way he had spoken, it was easy to think this Mrs. Ludlam was still alive.
What happened? I asked softly, as he took the album gently from my hands.
She disappeared, he replied after a moment of silence. Almost two years ago. I came home
from work and... and she was just gone. There was some... some... He stopped speaking here and
composed himself. There was blood on the doorknob. I gasped sharply and fought back tears. He
seemed to be doing the same as he paged slowly through the album, caught up in his own world.
After his wifes disappearance (especially with so little hope at the presence of foul play), he mustve
been so destroyed to promise himself not to be with anyone else. But when he saw me, a near copy
of his wife... Thats what he had meant about convincing me he was a great person.
You... you changed yourself so I would fall in love with you, I said. It was not a question, just
a simple statement of fact. He nodded solemnly. Why?
The picture doesnt show it, he began quietly, but you and my Joeyshort for Josephine, but
no one ever called her thatlook so alike. I wanted her back so badly... Ill always miss how she
loved me, more than anything else in the world. I had this stupid deranged idea that if I changed
myselfmade myself perfectmade you fall in love with me, it would be the same... God, Anya, Im
so sorry. To see him sitting before me with tears in his eyes and the most broken expression with
just the slightest red mark on his face from where I had struck him, filled me with such an awful
sadness that it made my stomach ache.
It was wrong to do, I said haltingly, but I can understand why. And I would understand if you
didnt want to continue seeing me. Each time he looked at me must have been a twist in his heart.
I do want to keep seeing you, he said. He paused and shook his head slightly, closing the
album. But not like this... youre a wonderful person, Anya, but I cant ask you to give your heart
to me if I cant give mine to you. Wherever Joey is, thats where my heart is. And if shes dead...
well, then a little piece of me died with her, too. He took a deep breath and swiped at his eyes with
the back of his hand. But I dont want to lose our friendship. I nodded and he closed his eyes
slowly. It hurt, both my heart and my pride, but Sean was right; it couldnt keep going on like this.
I sat up straight and leaned towards him.
Joey had been taller than me, and judging by her features, she had a little Italian in her. Some-
how, her face and the way she stood in the photo made me think she was more of the soft-spoken
type.
I love you, Sean, I whispered in his ear in what I hoped sounded like Joey. He started a little
and tears began to flow out from underneath his eyelids. Ive always loved you.
I miss you so much, Joey, he choked out. I pressed my lips very softly against his, and then
stood, heading for the door. I paused in the doorway and looked back at him. His eyes were still
closed. Thank you, he murmured. Without another word, I left.

*****
 D RINK W ITH M E 41

I went about work on Monday as usual, not overly enthusiastic, but not showing too blatantly that
I was still a bit upset. It should have been unfair for me to be upset, compared to the hellish years
Sean had to endure, but I thought I was still entitled to a few days of feeling sorry for myself. Fred
noticed I was a bit quieter than usual, but didnt inquire. Consequently, it was a quiet morning and
there was an unhealthy spike in the amount of mundane tasks accomplished by myself.
George came in a little past noon, mumbling something about crazy next-door neighbors keeping
him up half the night with their damn music and caught my frown straight away.
Whats wrong, Anya? he asked, following me into the back room with a case of Flirting Floun-
ders in his arms. I shook my head as I lifted a box out of the crate and placed it gently onto the
shelf. Come on, you know you can tell me anything. I hate seeing you upset. You cant possibly
still be angry with me because of the Jackalope thing, can you? I shook my head again, stocking
a few more boxes of Flirting Flounders. I hated it when George got that pleading tone in his voice,
because it meant he was going to get upset if I didnt tell him. Did your date with Sean go bad? I
stopped in midshelf and dropped my chin. I turned slowly to meet his eyes and in that moment, he
knew. That bastard broke your heart, didnt he?
Sorta, I said quietly. He put the case of Flirting Flounders on the ground, stepped over the
box and wrapped me in a tight hug. Im okay, really, George, I protested weakly, returning the
hug. He didnt release me, but that was okay, as I suspected all I really needed was a big hug from
George and everything would be fine.
Are you sure? he asked, releasing me slightly. I nodded. Ill kill him if youd like, he said a
bit too seriously. I laughed nervously and shook my head.
No, thats quite all right. It was bound to happen sooner or later.
Not even a little bit? he asked with a frown, holding his thumb and forefinger half an inch
apart. I shook my head at him again and he brushed a few locks of hair out of my face tenderly.
All right then. Want to take the rest of the day off and go home and feels sorry for yourself? Always
works for me. Here, I smirked. For such a strong-willed man, George loved playing martyr and
always pegged it as part of his charm. Things are slow... Ill come by later with ice cream and
you can tell me all about it. I grinned and gave him another hug. I had to love some of his more
feminine qualities (Hey, he was bisexual and used this to his advantage) like his instinctive tendency
to take care of me.
I think I just might take you up on that offer, I smiled. It wasnt that I could use another
evening of feeling pitiful, but my house could use a good cleaning and I wanted to stop by Shellys.
Besides, I was out of ice cream.
*****
Long after George had left with the last of the ice cream (greedy bastard), I was left with messy
house that would make my mother roll over in her grave. Getting out my wand and rolling up my
sleeves, I set to work. One would think that magic makes house-cleaning a whole lot easier.
It doesnt.
Theres absolutely no spell in the world that will get chocolate ice cream out of the rug and I
learned that quick enough. So after thirty different spells, I finally stomped into my kitchen, took
a section of leaf off the agave plant I keep in my kitchen (dead useful, the plant is) and scrubbed
the rug with the leaf where George had spilled ice cream. Not a spot was on the carpet when I was
done.
Tossing the leaf into the waste container, I returned to the living room, murmuring Accio as I
pointed my wand at various items around the cluttered area.
Suddenly, a heavy object hit my hand. As I yelped and shook off the sharp pain, the object fell
to the carpet. It was a photo album. It was just my awful luck that the album had flipped open to
a smiling picture of George and Katie. This brought a frown to my face. Would her ghost always
haunt me?
I sank to the floor, but somehow couldnt bring myself to close the album. I folded my feet
beneath me and began to remember...
The worst thing in the world is a public marriage proposal, George said, pacing the floor
of the 3W stockroom as he spoke. Its a dangerous social trend! Like pet rocks... big hair...
the Spice Girls...?
I laughed. Whats so wrong with announcing to the world your love for a special lady?
Whats right with it? You know, this all began with those corny announcements at
the Quidditch pro games at halftime: Katerina, wont you marry me? Love, Ivan... and
then the oh-so-astonished ladylove replies Yes! This, too, is announced later in the game,
usually just as the Snitch is caught. Its... its....?
42 H ARRY P OTTER

Cute, I finished for him with a smirk. He shook his head as he leaned against a shelf.
Cute, you say? Not on your life! Perhaps corny, but never cute! And vain... isnt such
a moment supposed to be private? Anyone can see where encouraging such cutesy sops
to vanity will leadbroadcasting the couples wedding night on the WWN! He paused here
with a look that made me think perhaps it would pull in some good ratings.
I giggled uncontrollably. So youre not going to propose to Katie in the middle of the
Quidditch World cup, are you?
Of course not! With the way things are going, every Quidditch game and Daily Prophet
advertisement page will be broadcasting yet another tacky marriage proposal.
A girl would love for her man to be so in love that he doesnt care about embarrassment.
I shoved him in the arm for no real good reason, and passed him to a ladder.
Whats next? George asked, shaking his head and continuing to pace as I climbed
the ladder and pulled a box from an upper shelf. Surprise scoreboard-delivered divorce
announcements?
I was silent for a moment. Then, Thats assuming you and Katie will someday get
divorced. I find that difficult to believe. He raised his eyebrows as he took the box from me
and reached a hand up to help me down from the ladder.
Why is that? The divorce statistics in the wizarding world are rather outrageous actu-
ally.
Well, when you make a decision, I said, hopping down from the last step and taking the
box back, You usually know what youre getting into. You may be your brothers brother,
but you have more restraint and introspection than he does. You dont look before you leap
sometimes, but not for important things like who youre going to spend the rest of your life
with. He gave me a small smile.
So do you think shell say yes?

He would never find out. Katie died three weeks after that conversation, in a Sponging. It was the
same accident that took Angelinas broomstick abilities from her. George had been hit hard with
her death because he had been so sure of figuring himself out. He wanted to spend his life with
Katie, but that destiny was ripped away with one warm spring afternoon in 1998. He had to start
all over again with finding himself.
I stood up with a sigh, closing the photo album. With gentle hands, I put the album away and
temporarily silenced her ghost.

*****

Late three evenings later (so it took me a while to clean the house), I Apparated in front of Shellys
door, feeling the biting cold from the wind around me. Pulling my cloak tighter, I knocked. Tapping
my feet to stay warm, I waited impatiently. Friends dont let friends freeze their arses off, right? I
knocked again, harder. After a few minutes with no reply, I groaned, dug my wand out of my robes
and opened the door with a simple Alohomora.
The door swung open in front of me slowly, like in one of those awful horror movies. I stepped
inside to a burst of warm air and closed the door behind me. It was like stepping into a sauna.
Shelly had always been very meticulous about the temperature of her home since her family had
been poor when she was younger. Freezing cold winters and sweltering hot summers had taught
her well.
Shelly? I called, hanging my cloak on a snoring coat rack. It startled awake when I put my
cloak on one of its prongs and muttered something sleepily about an attractive bookshelf named
Lenore before dozing off again. Shelly, are you home? I really need to talk to you. Sean and I...
well, theres no more I broke off when I saw a dark stain puddling on the floor between the carpet
of the living room and the tile of the kitchen.
My blood froze in my veins and I got this horrible feeling of dread that something was wrong.
Shelly was the tidiest person I had ever met in my life; leaving a stain to sit on brand new carpet
was definitely not her style. Against my own will, my feet took me forward and I could see farther
into the kitchen.
A goblet lay dented in the dark puddle of blue liquid... farther still... fingertips curled limply
around the stem. I was at the point of no return when I saw the fingers were attached to a hand
attached to an arm that disappeared under a bundle of robes. I felt a sick rising in my stomach and
I saw a pair of feet sticking out from under the pile of robes.
Oh, God... I put a hand over my middle and recoiled in horror. Oh, God... Something inside
me had to know. My body working against my better judgment, I staggered towards the bundle in
the kitchen. I fell to my knees just next to the form and turned it over.
 D RINK W ITH M E 43

Rochelle Delilah Walters, my best friend and confidante since the age of thirteen, looked up at
me, glassy blue eyes wide and lifeless. Her nose was slightly red and she had a crease in her brow.
Her lips were parted slightly and a dribble of the blue liquid clung to them. She had the frozen
expression of one who had just woken up from a screaming nightmare.
Shelly... Shelly, wake up! I demanded hoarsely. No, not my best friend... She was alive; she
had to be. I shook her roughly and a small piece of paper fluttered out of her opposite hand. I
glanced up at it absently before withdrawing my wand and muttering spells to wake her up. I didnt
even notice when the tears had started rolling down my cheeks. Shelly, wake up, damn it! I
shouted.
I could see wasnt going to be able to wake her up on my own, so I summoned stretcher-bearers
in between sobs. I continued to shake her and whisper spells, but she must have been very sleepy
because she wasnt answering me. When the stretcher-bearers arrived, I was a complete wreck.
The smallest of the lot, a tiny gnome who introduced himself as Gobbo, pushed me off to the
side and told me to stay back while they worked. I wrung my hands nervously. Certainly the
medignomes would be able to wake her up. Shelly was going to be furious when she saw what her
drink had done to the rug. I would help her clean it up and then we would talk about Sean. Shed
be upset about the relationship ending, but she would already be on the lookout for another bloke
to fix me up with. Bless her heart, she watched out for me like my mum had. Not exactly the same,
but it was a nice surrogate.
Suddenly, a warm sort of denial settled over me. Of course she was all right. I couldnt remember
a single time she was ever sick for more than seventy-two hours. She was just a little sleepy; that
was all.
After what seemed like an eternity, Gobbo took me aside and said that they had done everything
they could, but she was gone long before they arrived.
Thats nonsense, I told him with a shaky voice. Shelly isnt dead. Shes just... shes not...
I put my hand over my mouth and trembled. Wrapping my arms around myself, I began crying
again, if only out of sheer confusion. For the next ten minutes, I heard faint popping noises around
me and I was aware of strangers entering Shellys home. I remember telling a red-haired woman to
wipe her feet before entering because Shelly hated messes.
A woman, looking just a hair short of thirty, came over to me and asked my name. She was
wearing dark black robes with a Ministry of Magic badge fastened to the left side. The letters MME
were stitched across the badge. I tried to think of what the letters stood for, but drew a blank.
Anya Parker, I said haltingly. Her unfriendly cool hazel eyes looked me over, studying me. I
didnt like the way she was peering at me like I was some sort of zoo exhibit. She seemed to be
ignoring the strands of honey colored hair that were falling in her face.
What is your relationship to the deceased? she asked me. At the same time as her question,
she reached into her robes and took out a scrap of parchment and an eagle quill.
Deceased? I repeated slowly, wondering in the back of my mind why so many people were in
Shellys house and what was underneath the white sheet in the kitchen. The woman stepped in
front of me to block my view into the kitchen. She reached into her robes and withdrew another
scrap of parchment, this one with ragged edges and wilting corners. It was soaked with some sort
of blue liquid.
A Miss Michelle Walters according to the suicide note, she said. I trembled. Something wasnt
right about the way shed said Shellys name, but I couldnt put my finger on it.
Shes my best friend. She and George Weasley are my best friends, I said quietly. Shes not
dead and she certainly didnt commit suicide.
Are you saying you killed her? she asked slowly, as she moved her hand subtly to the pocket
of her robes and tensed her fingers. Her tone of voice scared me.
No, Im saying SHES NOT DEAD! My shouts had elicited sympathetic looks and wide-eyes from
what looked to be other Ministry officials around the sheet-covered lump in the kitchen. I glared at
the woman in front of me as she turned away to mutter something to another wizard, who nodded.
Maam, maybe you ought to just sit down for a little while and well get things straightened out
then? I nodded numbly, rather worried that Shelly would arrive soon and see all these strangers
in her house. Miss MME led me to the couch and sat me at the end. She sat across from me and
introduced herself as Ashlie Kauffman, a magical medical examiner from the Ministry, and said she
had been summed by medignomes to the scene. I nodded numbly as she asked me questions about
Shelly like if she was seeing anyone or if she had any enemies.
Shelly is a nice girl, I said. She can be a little overwhelming sometimes, but she would never
hurt anyone. I nodded and waited for her to ask another question.
I think youre in shock, Miss Parker. Do you understand that Miss Walters has passed away?
44 H ARRY P OTTER

she asked. I could finally see some compassion in her eyes, but I couldnt understand why it was
there. Shelly was just fine. Kauffman was the deranged one here.
Shes not dead, I said in a little voice, but my words came out in a tremble. I wrapped my
arms around myself, needing to be held and comforted, and my eyes threatened to release tears.
I shivered, becoming aware of the low temperature of the house once again. Funny how itd been
really warm earlier. My eyes roved over the worn furniture and antique lamps, remembering the
times we had gone to Muggle garage sales and bought what they thought were old junk. One mans
trash was Shellys treasure. I... I think I want to go home now.
All right then. Im having another official to contact Mr. George Weasleyyour best friend, you
said? I nodded. Hell take you home, but I trust youll be available for questioning?
Questioning? Questioning for what? She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, looking
like she was half-pitying me and half-exasperated.
Sit here and wait, she said. Her patience seemed to have reached its end and I curled my feet
beneath me on the couch. Her words pounded in my head and I picked up a cushion from the sofa
and put it over my chest. Something was very wrong, but my mind had put up some sort of a block
and I couldnt tell what was so upsetting. Shelly would be home soon and she would explain it to
me.
Anya? a voice said from the doorway. I looked up and saw George standing in the doorway,
looking confused and panicked. I had never seen him look so helpless before, like he was in
Charms class for the first time and had no idea how to make the feather float. Oh, thank Merlin,
he breathed as he rushed across the room and swept me into his arms. He held me tightly against
his strong chest, pressing his lips roughly to my hair. Out of sheer need to be held, I wrapped my
arms tightly around him. I heard his voice near my ear, muffled: The... the Ministry official came
my house... said you were... you were involved in a death... he didnt know... wouldnt tell me...
gave me an address... thought Id lost you.
The only other time in my entire life Id felt him hold me like that was just after the Missing Week
in VWII.
I had gone back to be with my father during that time. I didnt breathe a word about the war
to him; I was afraid he would fall apart. I must have owled George and Shelly thousands of times.
Within hours, Shelly would write back. None of Georges letters elicited replies.
I stayed in my old room at my fathers house, so empty now that my mother had passed away
and my brother had disappeared in the war, a noble soldier. My father would stand in the doorway
when he thought I was asleep and watch me for a while as though scared if he closed his eyes
for a few moments that he would open them and I, too, would be gone. I dont think I ever really
understood how lonely he had been after my mums passing until after his own death.

Shelly wrote me short notes about latest developments. The Daily Prophet ceased to be de-
livered to my door, but Shellys correspondence was able to paint a vivid picture. Hundreds
of thousands of witches and wizards were killed in cold blood within that week. Tension
mounted around the house as days passed with no word from George. I cant remember
being so terrified before in my life. Shelly finally sent me one last letter, saying that things
had become eerily quiet. I think that might have scared me more than the killings.
In the late evening hours of that final Saturday, I was up in my room, writing one last
owl to George. If he didnt reply... well, I would never give up on him unless I sawI would
never give up on him. The doorbell rang downstairs and I heard my fathers voice call, Ill
get it, princess. He had always called my mum his Russian queen and me their beautiful
princess.
All right, I called down in a ragged sort of voice. I heard footsteps and then a door
opening. Two deep male voices conversed for a few moments before he called for me again.
Youve got a visitor, Anya, he called. I bottled my inkwell, pulled the parchment off
my lap and trudged across my room to open the door. I stepped out into the hallway and
paused at the top of the stairs. At the bottom were my dad and a very familiar redhead.
George! I shrieked. I flew down the stairs and threw my arms around him. He
staggered back a few steps and wound his arms tightly around me.
Youre okay, he whispered against my hair. I was so scared.
I was scared, too... you didnt answer any of my owls... Where were you?

He never told me.

Anya, are you all right? I looked up at George and remembered that I was standing in Shelly
Walters sitting room in 2004, not my fathers entryway in 1998. Six years. Distant past. Can you
hear me? Oh, God, shes in shock... can someone
 D RINK W ITH M E 45

No... no, Im okay. I want to go home. Im confused, I whispered. No one will tell me why
all these people are in Shellys house. Shes going to be so furious when she gets home. The rude
woman, Kauffman, who had been talking to me earlier with all sorts of crazy ideas, leaned close to
George and whispered something. Georges brilliant blue eyes held a sort of sad pity as she spoke.
Ill take you home, he said raggedly.
I cant remember how I got to my house, into my pajamas and tucked into bed, but I do remember
George sitting beside me and telling me to get sleep, because everything would make sense in the
morning.
Just lay back and get some rest, he said, his voice sounding strained. I laid back into my
pillows and closed my eyes. I felt my covers being pulled up to my neck and tucked in around me
snugly. A whisp of hair was swept away from my face and I slowly began to lose consciousness.
Stay until morning, I slurred out sleepily, as darkness began to close in. I just barely heard
Georges agreement before I drifted away.
The horror of finding Shellys lifeless body played over and over in my head, disguised as a
dream, until I woke up screaming. The pieces all fell into place at once... the goblet... the unwa-
vering, crystalline stare... the stain on the carpet... the Ministry officials... Strong arms wrapped
themselves around me as I began to thrash violently.
NO! NO, LET ME GO! IVE GOT TO GET TO SHELLY! I screamed. My energy drained as I fought
my unseen captor and slumped limply into the protective embrace, sobbing. Shes not dead...
not dead, I cried into a warm shoulder. I pulled away and saw George looking at me, whispering
something comforting that I couldnt understand over my own sobs. Shes not dead, I murmured.
I begged him to tell me I was right, that it was a huge misunderstanding, a dream that was too vivid
for easy dismissal.
Shes gone, love, he said gently, wiping my tears away with his thumbs. This only infuriated
me more. How dare he lie to me about something like this? I tried to hit him so he would admit
that he was lying, but he only grabbed my fists and held them securely against my sides until my
forearms hurt and I gave up.
I understood then that Shelly was gone. I had found her body, but my mind wouldnt let me
accept it. George was all I had left and he would probably leave me, too. I told him this as I tried to
calm myself, quite unsuccessfully.
Ill never leave you, he promised in a whisper, wiping fresh tears from my face. I promise
you that, Anya. He couldnt promise me that. He could die at any moment and I would have
nothing. No family, no friends... nothing. Nothing but memories. His hands released my wrists and
I wrapped by arms around him limply, burying my face against his shoulder.
Dont leave...I cant lose you, too... dont leave, I begged, voice muffled against his robes. I felt
his hands shaking on my back as he held me. He mightve been crying, too, but I wasnt sure.
Ill stay here, he swore. Ill take care of you... no one will hurt you while Im here. The worlds
were familiar, but I was too upset to try placing them. I pressed myself against him tightly, slowly
calming to the gentle beating of his heart against my own chest.

*****

When I woke up, my first thought was that the previous night hadnt occurred, for I felt too warm,
too safe and secure for anything horrible to ever have happened to me. I opened my eyes slowly
and saw I was tucked under the covers. My eyes drifted upwards and I saw George lying beside
me, his red hair clashing horribly with my orange pillow. He was sleeping quietly, his arms still
wound tightly around me. I sighed softly and rested my head against his strong chest, listening to
his heartbeat beneath my ear.
You wake? George slurred out. I lifted my head to look at him and nodded. His eyes were only
half-open and he removed one arm from around me to rub his left eye sleepily with his fist.
Good morning, I whispered, as his arm circled me again. He smiled a little at this and opened
his eyes all the way. Sleep well? I asked as I swept a lock of fiery hair from his face.
I could lay like this forever, he murmured. With those words, we toed some unspoken line
drawn in every friendship like ours. I lifted my eyes to his and was immediately lost in those
gigantic blue irises of his that had always brought warmth and comfort into my life.
Well... why not? I said in a soft whisper. His blue eyes then began to close a little and I was
aware of the soft pressure of his hand against my back. It was all the encouragement I needed.
I dipped my head forward and pressed my lips against his. No resistance there. I had to admit
the effect was intoxicating. It was like stepping into a warm bath filled up with bubbles. His lips
were very soft and he was kissing me gently, as though he was afraid hed hurt me. I reached one
46 H ARRY P OTTER

hand up and tangled my fingers into his fiery hair. I felt his hand slowly slide down my side and
when it began to move upwards again, there was no barrier between his fingers and my flesh.
Take me, I begged without words. Take me and make the rest of the world disappear. I brushed
my fingers softly against his cheek and
He pulled away abruptly, leaving us both gasping for air. I searched his face, trying to figure out
what I had done wrong. He wanted this, too, didnt he?
We... we cant do this, he croaked, looking terribly torn. I... Not when youre... I cant let you.
He pushed me away gently but firmly and pulled the covers off us. The next thing I knew, he was
standing before my bed, hair ruffled and robes disheveled. He looked nervous as I sat up. I told
Fred Id... Id open the shop this morning.
I turned my face away from him and looked at the wall, an embarrassed flush creeping up my
neck. Okay, I said tonelessly. My head was still spinning from the kiss and I hated myself for it.
Obviously, it had meant nothing to him and hed rejected me, just like Sean had. I heard the door
close.
With the sound of the click, the tears burst forth. I tore the covers from my bed and threw them
to the ground viciously. I made a point to trample over them as I stalked out of my bedroom and
into the sitting room. Rage pounding in my ears, I lifted up the tiny stone Ashwinder from my dining
room table and whipped it into the kitchen with as much strength as I could muster. The sound of
shattered stone did little to alleviate my frustrations.
I wiped my tears from my face angrily with the back of my hand as I staggered into the kitchen.
I went immediately to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine. Wiping my face again and
mentally berating myself for bothering to care about George Weasley, I threw open my cabinet door,
grabbed a wine glass and slammed the door shut again. With bottle and glass, I sat at the kitchen
table and drank until I couldnt see straight.
This is wrong, my conscience told me. This is not the way to deal with loss. My pride however,
had comments more along the lines of Screw you.
I lifted up the wine bottle into my hands and giggled madly. It had lost so much weight since
I had gotten it out of the fridge. I would have to commend it and ask it what sort of diet it had. I
walked (staggered, actually) to the garbage can (no use for an empty wine bottle, now is there?) and
aimed carefully. With the precision of a lazy-eyed three-year old, I next heard the sound of breaking
glass.
Oh, well. With a hiccup, I stepped over the pretty glass with the sharp edges and headed for the
bathroom, a sick feeling rising from my stomach. A good cold shower would make the room stop
spinning. I pushed open the bathroom door and heard a scuffling inside. Stevie, that damn cat. I
stumbled over to the sink, placing one hand on each side of the porcelain basin. I turned on the
faucets and splashed water onto my face. Shaking uncontrollably, I looked up into the mirror and
gazed at my sorry self.
Both of my eyes were red, with a rosy nose to match. My hair was tangled and looked as though
a hippogriff had nested in it. My skin was pale and I was shivering, though the house was very hot.
What had happened to the beautiful woman Shelly had created in me less than a month before? I
began to speak then, not recognizing the hoarseness of my own voice.
No family to love me, no boyfriend to care, no best friend to pick up the pieces... I said to my
awful reflection. Shelly was dead, Sean didnt want me, George never had and never will. He had
always been pretending, just like the one time Katie Bell had helped me with Divination and I ended
up getting only two out of ten on the paper. They were always pretending, never real. You filthy
little Mudblood, I swore.
I drew back the shower curtain and gazed downwards. What was before me wasnt real, couldnt
have been real, but it didnt stop me from staring. Draped haphazardly across the bathtub was
George, head resting on his shoulder and blood trickling from the corner of his lips. The entire
bathtub was filled with blood and his robes floated lazily in the crimson liquid.
That was the last straw.
I ran over the broken glass, feeling sharp pain in my feet, and to the front door. I had to get out
of there before I lost my mind completely. My broomstick found its way into my hand and I snagged
the bristles in one hand. Crying again, I threw the door open, mounted my broomstick and took off.
The next thing I remembered was a tree swiftly passing me by and then blackness surrounding me.

Huge thanks to my betas: Ebony, John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady Christina, Virgo, JM Robin and Pippin. An extra super
special thanks to Ebony, whos letting me write this. Remember to check out the HP Paradise list if you want to discuss or
read the incoming chapters before (or after!) theyre posted to ff.net. This is dedicated to Anne, who gave me a great line to
use, Virgo, who jump started me a zillion times and Sue-the-fish, who did her best to break me through writers block and
did a special guest-beta for this chapter. Thanks everyone!
 D RINK W ITH M E 47

Reviewer Thanks: Dulcis (Uh... heh... sorry about Sean. But you were totally right; there was loads more to his
character, wasnt there?), Lady Christina (::giggles and rolls eyes:: Nuff said.), Coriann (Ahh! Stabs him in the back?!
Ewwy. And believe me, I love nitpicking. I briefly thought of Dumbledores line, but then I thought that Anya probably
wouldnt know that: only Harry would. Sorry Anya/Sean couldntve lasted. L), *Ginny* (Thanks so much! Solved it all?
Ha.), Leap (Eeh. Sorry, but I had to make him pretend to be perfect. For Anya, that is. But is it okay because he was just
pretending? ::crosses fingers::), AngieJ (Three reviews in one day. My, my, miss Johnson, do we have time on our hands. ;)
), magical*little*me (Im not a hopeless romantic... Im a... hopeful romantic. Hopeful.), Sphinx (Whew. Must be nice to be
rid of the obnoxious woman, eh? I kinda miss her though...), Mrs. Fred Weasley (::rolls eyes:: Figures youve got to mention
Freds part in the story first.), Vicki Granger (Congrats! ::cheers and claps:: I figured someone wouldve got it. Shh... dont
tell anyone though! Eek. Sorry about the chess thing.), Florencia (Brilliant? *ears get pink*), Juliette (Really? I thought
everyone - well, everyone but me, reallysaw that coming. I actually didnt, but as I was rereading the thing with Gatsby,
Im like, Hmm... thats the type of thing George would do... then I realized my muse was trying to tell me Gatsby WAS
George!), WeasleyTwinsFan (Enjoy your cameo? J Sorry you couldnt be a nicer character, but... heh... well, there you are!)
Quidditch (Ah, yet another person who thinks Anya is manic-depressive sometimes. Im sorry about the inconsistencies in
her character, but they dont seem all that blatant to me for some reason.), Five by Five (George or Sean? Hmm... how
about neither? Or both. Let Anya be a player. LOL), LissaLapin (Im really flattered that you came into the story late and
decided to review all four chapters. Most readers would read through and then just review the last chapter. Im flattered.
Thank you.), Sue (*whimpers* Why does everyone think Sean is evil?! And I applaud you for being the only one to pick up
on Anya drinking too much wine. Very nice.), Mina Jade (Actually, Mo and Sean are cousins, not siblings. And George is
sweet, isnt he? ::hugs George:: Gotta love him. Glad you liked the R/H snippet, but I daresay all the H/Hers following
the series arent.), Amanda (Of course I wont answer, but infer what you will...), Gwenn (I hope the Perfect!Sean issue has
been resolved, no?), and Hydy a.k.a Serpentese (Ah, Im impatient, too, and know EXACTLY how you feel. It seems like my
favorite authors always take their precious time in a chapter after a cliffhanger. Would I ever do that? Well... maybe.).
JanaBelle
...I disagree with the critics who charge that the Harry Potter books teach witchcraft and Satanism. Yes, Im aware of
the recent case in Pittsburgh, where a 9-year-old boy recited a so-called magic spell from a Harry Potter book, and his
piano teacher turned into a singing walnut. At first glance, this incident seemed alarming, but it turned out that there was
a perfectly innocent explanation, according to a police source, who spoke on the condition that his head be changed back
to its normal size.Dave Barry, Getcher Harry Potter Knockoffs While Theyre Hot
 C HAPTER S IX

Ghost of a Romance

And if its just that youre weak,

Can we talk about it?
Its getting so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of a chance,
The fiction, the romance,
And the Technicolor dreams...

Black & White People, Matchbox Twenty

The first thing I woke to, some immeasurable time later, was the rhythmic sound of someone pacing
back and forth across smooth tile. I opened my eyes slowly, aware of a faint pounding in my head.
For a moment, all I saw was white. Then, the white was divided into rectangles by pale tan lines. I
blinked a few times and looked up to see a foam-tiled ceiling.
... Completely irresponsible, I heard a familiar voice say angrily from somewhere off to my
right. The pacing stopped. I know shes your friend, George, and a damned good employee, but
you and I both know that we cannot have her working for us in that condition. She needs help.
I turned my head to the side, and felt the softness of a pillow beneath my face. I saw now that I
was in a room, decorated so white that it made my eyes hurt. There were several machines beside
my bed, including one that had a funny green line a few feet above it that spiked now and then.
Damn it, Fred, she just lost her best friend in the entire world another voice argued. I could
see that the door to my room was slightly ajar and I sat up a little, only to be forced back to the bed
with tears in my eyes as a thread of pain began lacing its way through my skull.
I dont care! Drinking and flying is not something to be taken lightly. Its the reason we only
have three older brothers!
These words struck me completely awake and I opened my eyes all the way to see Fred Weasleys
face come into focus and stop in the small area of the hallway I could view from my bed. It occurred
to me that I was the one they were talking about, but the three older brothers comment threw me.
Actually, it was the only.
Next was Georges scoffing reply, You still believe Charlies stupid stories he used to taunt
us with when we were kids? He only did that because he wanted to upset the two of us. Thats
dragonshit and you know it. He paused here and Fred stepped out of my line of sight to be replaced
by George, whose head was tilted slightly and was wearing a small, pleading frown.
His voice lowered to a whisper, but I could just barely make out what he was saying. Fred, Anya
has never done anything like this before. Her best friend just committed suicide Anya found her
for Merlins sakeand I promised I would stay at her side all night in case she needed me. She woke
up and... George trailed off. I tensed slightly, wondering how much George intended on telling his
twin about what Id donewhat George and I almost did. I remembered Angelina saying once that
telling one twin something was just as good as telling the other. I flushed with shame and closed
my eyes, not wanting to hear George relay my advances to his twin. Well, I left. What do you expect
her to do? Shrug it off and go back to work?
Of course not! She cant just shrug this off, George. She needs help before she hurts someone
else, Fred said hotly and stepped into my view. Now I could see both twins perfectly: Fred, looking
hacked off and George, pleading. A bit more slowly this time, I sat up, using a pillow to prop myself
up. I felt very tiny in this room of all white and hugged the covers around me.
My memory was in bits and pieces of awful things. The last clear memory I had was of Apparating
to Shellys house when it was cold. I had a jagged flash of lying in bed beside George, but I didnt
 G HOST OF A R OMANCE 49

understand why he was there. Everything after that was jagged images and bits of sound that didnt
make much sense. My memory had no answer for the hangover I seemed to be experiencing.
She didnt hurt anyone but herself! The one witness says she got about twenty meters in the
air and then turned around to go back. Thats when she must have blacked out and lost control of
her broom, George was saying, as I was jarred from my thoughts. I tried to take what was said and
make my memory give me some sort of image. It only partially worked, as I vaguely remembered
getting onto my broom, tremendously upset, and taking off for whereabouts unknown. For some
reason, in the memory, my feet hurt.
Thats far enough! Why wont you take this seriously? Fred said, temper rising. With one pale,
trembling hand, I lifted up the bottom of the sheets that covered me to reveal my feet. The tops of
them looked okay, and I had all ten toes (yes, I counted to make sure). But when I drew a leg up
towards me and bent my ankle to see the underside of my foot, I gasped.
Dozens of tiny red marks slashed every which way across the sole of my foot, looking anywhere
from small scratches to deep gashes. Only slightly less than worrying about where the cuts came
from, I wondered why they were still there. With the medimagical advancements in the wizarding
world, no cut, scrape or bruise lasted longer than a few minutes with the most vicious of broken
bones regrown in a night with an extra day under observation.
My mind swimming and head still pounding, I covered my feet again and sat back into my
pillows.
Freds voice was slow and measured, leaving no room for argument, as he said, She will not
be employed at 3W until she undergoes some sort of rehabilitation and fixes her personal life. She
needs time off to sort things out.
Sort things out? What sort of things? Fred was barking mad, he was. With a fierce twist in my
stomach, I remembered Shelly. She was probably lying perfectly preserved in the magimorgue in
St. Mungos. The thought made my shudder, but also wonder where I was.
The last thing she needs right now is to be alone. You know if she chooses the Treatment, shell
have to stay here for five days, George replied, voice desperate. I sat up a little straighter. Him not
wanting me to be alone? How ironic.
So stay with her, George, Fred said, voice heavy with exasperation. Im not saying we sever all
contact with her. I just want her to pull herself together before she returns to work.
The next words muttered out of Georges mouth surprised me, Im probably the last person she
wants to see right now. In a vivid flood of color, my memory flashed through my mind. Oh, God,
what had I done? What had George and I almost done? I had drunk so much... an entire bottle of
wine on my own. Then getting on a broomstick? I was lucky to be alive.
But what George had said wasnt true. He was the one I needed more than anything, the only
one who could make all the confusing things go away. Would I admit it to him? No way. He didnt
need me, nor want me, so I would change myself so I didnt need him.
What happened between you two last night? There was a pause and a gasp of understanding
from Fred. The two of you didnt...
No, of course not. I didI saidI was horrible to her and I left her when she needed me most.
You dont understand why she George began, but his twin interrupted him.
You think I dont understand Anyas motive for drinking just because I didnt have someone
close to me die? For Merlins sake, George, I saw what happened to you when Katie I snapped
my head up, wincing in anticipation of Georges reaction.
Dont you dare bring Katie into this, he whispered dangerously. Anya will be suspended until
she completes the Treatment and then will be put on evaluation for two months. Shell agree to the
Treatment, I know she will. George paused for a moment. You cant take her from the life she
knows. Her rehabilitation will be around people shes comfortable with, you and me.
The Department of Magical Employment has guidelines about... Fred began, but I could already
tell George had won.
Fred, please. If she refuses Treatment, well let her go. But give her one more chance. I waited
a moment, in tense silence, before I heard Freds heavy sigh. He said something to George that I
didnt hear clearly, but then I saw them quickly embrace and George say, Thanks, brother. I sank
back into my pillows, head spinning. It was far too much to digest at once. I closed my eyes very
slowly and they remained closed as I heard the click of a door closing.
I opened my eyes slowly and saw George leaning his head against the doorframe, eyes closed.
The anguish on his face made me want to leap out of bed, race across the room and hold him in my
arms, telling him I was okay and everything would be all right. He reached a fist up as though to
pound against the door, but then slowly dropped it. With a soft sigh, he turned and met my eyes.
Hey, he said raggedly. He came a little closer to the bed, looking a little awkward. I cursed
50 H ARRY P OTTER

what I had done. Things would never be the same. I had lost my best friend in the world because I
needed him more than ever. It was strange how life worked in cruel paradoxes. Howre you feeling?
I bowed my head in shame, not answering. Anya?
I looked up at him, fighting tears, and saw nothing but worry and compassion in his brilliant
blue eyes.
What? I murmured, voice cracking. What are you doing here? He looked appalled for a
moment, as though he couldnt imagine me asking such a question.
I... I was worried, of course, he sputtered, eyes darting back and forth. Hermione was here
at Paracelsus when you were brought in. She sent an owl to the shop and told me... I rushed here
immediately; Fred and I were at work... I narrowed my eyes at him because it was a lot easier to
be angry with him than to be feeling hurt. Besides, I had every right to be angry with him.
Yes, and Fred must have been late because it was you who had to open the shop this morning,
isnt that right? I said in a scathing tone. I could see his anger begin to rise with mine as I spoke
those words. After a moment of searching for the right reply, the fury slowly dissipated from his
face.
I know whats making you say these things, George said. Its the alcohol. Anya, I talked to Dr.
Borowski... there was so much alcohol in your bloodstream; why did you do it?
The alcohol made things go away, I said, my voice sounding unnatural and shaky. Without
you there to do it for me, alcohol worked. You left, George. Left me so you could open your bloody
little joke shop. I drew in a quivering breath and raised my chin. See? I dont need you, George.
Anya
And speaking of that silly little store, I continued hotly, as though he hadnt spoken, you
can find yourself another record keeper because Im not about to take your pity when half of the
ownership wants me to go this alone. Georges eyes were wide as he watched me take shuddering
breaths. Finally, his features hardened into a mask of indifference and he stood.
I wont deal with you when youre like this, he said shortly. With one last disbelieving glance,
he swept out of the room.
Feeling drained physically and emotionally, I sank back against my pillows with a quivering sigh.
Needing warmth, as the temperature seemed to have dropped drastically in the past few seconds,
I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering. I had been horrible to George, but I wasnt wrong.
I didnt need him. He was someone I loved being with, perhaps was in love with, but I had gotten
over Sean, hadnt I? Everything would be fine without him, without anyone.
I let my head fall gently to the soft pillow and began to weep. This was too damn much at once.
I threw the covers off the bed and onto the floor. I stormed around the room, looking for a drink.
Surely that would make things clearer. I searched under the bed, in the night table and even kicked
the small dustbins over in my fury. My foot stung then, and I sank back against the wall, too numb
for tears. With the last pound of fist on the floor, I was asleep.

*****

When I awakened the next morning, I was safely tucked into my bed. The mess Id left behind in my
selfish outburst had been cleaned up and not a single trace of it remained. If not for the soreness
in my toes, I mightve thought it had been a dream. I sat up slowly, running my fingers through my
surprisingly untangled hair and propped a few pillows up behind me. Just as I resolved to go get
someone, a slim doctor entered my room with a clipboard of parchment.
She wore thick-framed glasses and had her hair tied back in a tight bun. My first impression
was of Madam Pince, but I certainly didnt tell her that. She looked up at me and seemed faintly
amused that I was awake.
Miss Parker?
Yes? My voice sounded funny.
My name is Dr. Susan Borowski and Im here in England as part of an exchange program from
the United States. As your acting mediwitch, I am here to inform you of what happened and what
your options are. I almost turned into an ice cube. A search of your house plus several blood
tests have brought us to the conclusion that you had consumed an enormous amount of alcohol
and then took control of an aerial transportation device. Is this correct?
Yes, I said meekly.
We also have also found shattered, bloody glass in the kitchen and a boggart in the bathroom.
The glass is no doubt what caused abrasions on your feet. The boggart, we feel, is unrelated to
the incidents. Oh, a doctor, a Ministry Law Enforcement Official and a magical creature expert all
rolled into one. What fun. As a result, your permit to operate aerial transportation devices will be
 G HOST OF A R OMANCE 51

suspended for three calendar years. You may bring this to the Board of Magical Law Enforcement if
you wish to make an appeal.
I dont, I said evenly. I accept the consequences. Damn it, three years without my broom.
Couldnt say it didnt serve me right. I probably belonged behind bars.
Right then, makes a lot of peoples jobs a whole lot easier. Just then, another doctor entered
the room. He was slim, if not a bit gangly, and had sparking blue eyes hidden behind plain black
thin-framed spectacles. His dark blonde hair flopped lazily over his ears and he absently smoothed
it down as he entered my hospital room. He was quite fetching indeed.
I watched as he crossed the room, eyes never leaving him. When he looked up, he seemed
pleasantly surprised to see me.
Why hello, he said brightly, as though Dr. Borowski wasnt there. My name is Dr. Simon
Branford but you can call me Tony if youd like. I gave a sideways look at this strange individual
as he settled into a chair beside my bed. He asked me a few standard questions and then did an
aura check. I shivered as he did it; aura checks always made me feel cold and I could never stand
being at a doctors office.
So, you understand what happened and why youre here, correct? He glanced over at Dr.
Borowski and we both nodded gravely. She gave an extra firm nod and exited.
I overheard something about the Treatment yesterday... what is it?
The Treatment will last exactly five days. During those five days, no magic is to be used by you
or on you, he began. After the initial injection, you may not have any potions administered to you
if they involve magical properties.
So Im a Muggle for the next week, right? I asked, trying not to sound too terribly disappointed.
He nodded and continued. It struck me then that I couldnt have any Dreamless Sleep Potion,
exactly what I should have taken in the first place.
You will be staying here for the duration of the Treatment and your meals will be provided for
you. Any attempts to sneak in extra food will only result in disruption of treatment, so I advise
against it. This was probably a bluff, but I certainly wasnt going to test it. I wont lie to you,
Anya. This is one of the most difficult and painful medimagical treatments. Only thirty-four of the
two hundred seventeen of those who go into it ended up succeeding. At the end of each day, youll
be more emotionally, physically and magically drained. By the last half hour on the final day, you
will be in severe physical discomfort. Its your bodys way of using the initial potion to clean out the
addiction from your psyche.
The only thing that will restore you to full health immediately during the next five days will
be a fix of your addiction; in your case: alcohol. I must warn you, however, that if you enter the
Treatment contract and then break it by giving in to your addiction, the dependence will become a
thousand times harder to destroy. Treatment is a one-time deal. There are no second chances.
I understand, I said quietly. Only about fifteen percent had made it through. That meant
eighty-five percent were still wound up in their addictions. Dare I take such a chance? Dare I pass
it up? The decision had to be mine, not anyone elses. George believed I could do it, but in no
uncertain terms was I going to go through it for him. I was going to go through it for me. Ill do it,
I said softly, looking up at Dr. Branford. He smiled kindly.
Ive already drawn up the parchment work for you, he told me, adjusting his glasses. Mr.
Weasley was certain youd follow through. He turned to leave, but I had to know one more thing
before he left.
Thats why my feet arent healed, isnt it? He told you I would agree and you started the
preparations early, didnt you? Dr. Branford turned back slowly and nodded.
We only did what had to be done to save your life. The less outside magical essence performed
on you, the greater the chance the Treatment will be effective. We do, however, have you on Muggle
painkillers, and thats why your feet arent hurting. I took a deep breath and forced myself not to
grit my teeth too hard.
I will follow through with this, but I will make my own decisions from now on, I said evenly,
leaving no room for misinterpretation. I didnt need Georges misguided chivalry to put my life back
together. I didnt understand why his mind worked the way it did that morning. He had been a part
of the initiation of that kiss; I hadnt imagined it. Hed left me, walked out the door when I needed
him more than anything. Now, out of nowhere, he reappeared and wanted to take care of my well
being? No. From now on, I was going to be on my own in this and not need him or anyone to take
care of me. I was twenty-six bloody years old and it was high time I stopped behaving like a child
who needed constant attention.
I reached for the quill and signed my name at the bottom of the parchment Dr. Branford handed
me.
52 H ARRY P OTTER

*****
As promised, my week was hellish. The first few days werent too awful, but the nights were beyond
reason. The nightmares returned, more vivid than ever. Different ones came as well, like the day I
found out about my mothers death. I woke up crying and it took me twenty minutes to get myself
under control.
I wasnt terribly lonely, much to my surprise. Neville Longbottom, who had been so clumsy at
one time, became a well-established doctor in one of the most prestigious medimagical practices
in the UK. Just the same, he took time each day to visit with me. It was amazing how much hed
changed and grown since Hogwarts. He was slimmer, almost lanky, and his freckles were the only
things on his face to remind me of his younger self. And, my goodness, he was handsome. He was,
however, far too serious for my liking.
He had a voice, however, and a pair of ears to listen to me, so I couldnt really complain all that
much. I learned quickly that he was good at analysis, but sometimes he failed to keep peoples
emotions in mind.
Perhaps the little girl isnt responding well to tests because shes frightened, I suggested, after
he told me about a particular patient he was having trouble with. The little girl in question, Rebecca
Jamison, had been ill with what doctors feared to be a Sponge-related virus. The source of the illness
was still unknown, but Hermiones tests had proved there were no traces of the descolada virus.
The other tests were inconclusive, as adrenaline levels were too high during testing to give accurate
results.
I just dont understand why its so hard for this patient to perform a simple test, he wondered,
scratching his chin absently. I sat up on the bed and looked at him.
Well, the first thing you need to do is stop calling her the patient. This is a little girl youre
talking about. Shes in a hospital, quarantined from her parents, and without a familiar face to
turn to. How is she supposed to be comfortable?
You know, I ran the concept of solitude affecting the test procedures past Granger and Potter,
but they both thought it was nonsense, Neville replied, cocking his head to one side thoughtfully.
Hermione Facts-Before-Feelings Granger-Weasley and Harry I-Spent-My-Childhood-in-a- Cup-
board Potter are not the best people to go for emotional consultation. I noticed Neville trying hard
to hide a smirk. Let her parents see her, and bring her a teddy bear from home and make sure
theres a nurse available to talk to her when shes scared. Neville, remember when you broke your
wrist during your first flying lesson? I had been in the infirmary myself with a bad stomachache
from too many Chocolate Mangoes when he was brought in. Remember how you wanted to owl
your gran? The man before me frowned slightly, as though reflecting upon some lost memory.
Thats all Rebecca wants; she needs a person to hold onto that shes always been able to trust.
Why dont you consider a career in psychowizardry? Youd be dead helpful to a lot of people,
he said abruptly. A lot of lives would benefit from your advice. I would advise looking into it once
you get everything straightened out. I blushed furiously, and thanked him for the compliment.
Eventually, conversation turned to the Treatment and the scientific processes behind it. I must
say, counting his freckles was far more invigorating.
As a matter of fact, when I went through the Treatment That jarred me out of my counting
faster than a hippogriff being chased through the air by a Hungarian Horntail.
You went through Treatment? I repeated with raised eyebrows. He nodded slowly, looking
absolutely scandalized over what hed said. I supposed Id lulled him into such a sense of security
that he dropped his guard.
A team of scientists has been involved in working on the Sponge phenomenon ever since we
recognized its existence. They studied all sorts of different psyches and they found out... This
seemed hard for him to say, but he looked up at me and his resolve seemed to strengthen. They
found that a lot of the patients in Mungos psycho ward were actually victims of a primitive form
of the Sponge, a test round, so to speak. His voice was thick with emotion, but his words were
precise. My parents were among them.
I crawled across the bed so I was sitting nearer to him. This seemed to comfort him somehow.
Never before had I seen this effect I had on people. To everyone but those I intended it for.
I hit the bottle as hard as you did, Anya. Probably a lot harder. I tried not to believe. It was
hard enough knowing that my parents were Crucioed to insanity, but it was far too late for a cure
we now had. It was too much. He removed his glasses briefly, rubbed his eyes, and slowly slid his
spectacles back on his nose. Luckily, Susan noticed how the alcohol was destroying me. Susan
Bones was his longtime girlfriend and their serious yet untied relationship was just about as famous
as Alicia Spinnet and Lee Jordans. The people you love are the first to help you, Anya, he said
carefully. His crystal eyes carefully studied me for a reaction. I suppose the whole world knew
 G HOST OF A R OMANCE 53

about George and me, though I couldnt picture George telling anyone except for Fred, and I knew
Fred wouldnt do anything to upset his brother.
Maybe all an outsider had to do was watch us interact. Maybe we were that transparent.
I know what youre thinking and George has made it abundantly clear that he wants nothing
more to do with me. He hasnt even stopped by to visit once in the past three days.
I dont blame him. I overheard some of the things you said to him the day you were brought in.
You hardly gave him a chance to speak. I blinked repeatedly, totally shocked.
You... you dont know what happened... you cant possibly I sputtered. He regarded me with
a raised eyebrow as he stood.
Anya, Im not going to play judge or jury. But you and George have the most incredible two-
person friendship Ive ever seen. Sure, theres the Trio and the Chasers before Katies death and
Lee and the twins, but with you and George, no one gets excluded. No one gets left out. Dont give
this up over one little incident. Without awaiting a response, he got up and left the room.

*****

That night, I dreamt.

I know its a dream as soon as it begins. For one, the sky is much too blue, the grass is
much too green and the songs of the birds are much too beautiful for any of it to be real. I
am in what I know is a small forest. I cant see anything beyond the trees, but somehow, I
know it isnt a huge place like the Forbidden Forest.
I follow a small path that was frequently crossed by butterflies and little toads that
remind me of the ones in the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley. The sun shines brightly
on the path and guides me through the tranquil forest. I feel a presence on my left and look
over to see George. His hand is in mine and he is talking to me about somethingQuidditch
maybeand then turns to smile broadly at me.
What are you smiling about? I ask him with my own grin. He shrugs.
Were almost there, he tells me, and points ahead. There is an opening in the trees
and it looks as though it leads into some sort of field. I pull on his hand, anxious to get
there. He stumbles along behind me and I turn to make a comment about his grace. With
a mischievous glint in his eyes, he scoops me up in his arms. Giggling, I throw my arms
around his neck and he carries me the rest of the way down the path.
As we break out of the forest and into what looks like a typical London backyard, he
gently lets me stand on my own feet. I recognize the house as the one I grew up in when I
was young. It has the same light paint and the same dark roof. The patio out back still has
the small table with chairs surrounding it. The light blue gazebo with a swing inside that
my dad built for my mum still stands proudly at the edge of the lawn.
I want you to see something, I tell George and pull him with me to the gazebo. I point
to a series of markings along one of the posts. Anya, age 5. Michael, age 9. Anya, age
6. Michael, age 10. Mum and Dad always brought us out here on our birthdays and
measured our heights.
My family would need another gazebo, George jokes. Come on; lets go inside. Your
mum and dad will be expecting us. For some reason, I see nothing wrong with this sce-
nario.
Hello, Mum! Hello, Dad! I say brightly as I bound into the house. Theyre at the table,
smiling, food set at four places. They each rise to embrace me. George and I sit beside each
other and I feel Georges ankle wrap around mine beneath the table and hide a smile.
Everyone is talking; the atmosphere is relaxed. The kitchen is warm and smells of
Mums cooking. I slowly leave the conversation and enjoy just eating, looking down at my
plate and listening to my loved ones voices fill my head. I lift my head to answer Mums
question and recoil in horror.
Three skeletons sit at the table with me, bony jaws wide with maniacal grins. I shove
my chair backwards and stagger away as the bones slowly disintegrate to dust. I hear a
voice calling my name...

Anya, wake up. Youre having a nightmare. Anya! I bolted upwards in bed, breathing heavily. I
nearly collapsed back down to the covers, but strong arms were soon surrounding me. I could feel
tears on my cheeks, but had no memory of crying. I was far too exhausted to sort things out. Dear
God, please let me have one night of peace. Its all I ask.
I didnt particularly give a toss about whose arms I was in, but I felt myself being lowered gently
back down to the bed and tucked in again. Warm hands paused on my shoulders for a moment,
54 H ARRY P OTTER

before releasing their gentle pressure. I heard the soft patter of reluctant feet walking away and
then a door opening and closing.

*****

Sean Ludlam visited a few times during my stay. While he wasnt maintaining his perfect facade,
he was tactful enough not to ask how Id gotten here or what happened. All he said was that hed
gone to 3W to say hello to me and Fred had given him the news. I wanted to ask if George had been
there, but I didnt.
Sean brought a chessboard and pieces with him and although he won all three games, it made
me feel better to return to a sense of normalcy. But I couldnt shake the feeling I was being watched.
I looked over at the viewing window near the door, but of course, I saw nothing but my own reflec-
tion. Dr. Branford had told me it was for monitoring patients as they slept without disturbing the
occupants within. They were supposed to be turned off during the day, but there had been a lot of
recent trouble with the hospitals magical equipment lately.
I could still feel eyes on me.

*****

I woke up on two days later - day five - wanting to die. I couldnt open my eyes, let alone sit up. I
wanted to go back to sleep, but was far too afraid. If Id been slightly upset by my original nightmare,
the ones occurring in the past few days had terrified me beyond all reason.
And I wanted a damn drink.
I wanted a drink so bad I could taste it. Besides staving off nightmares, alcohol had made my
body addicted in the worst way. No, no, that was nonsense. I had made myself addicted to alcohol.
It was easily the stupidest thing I could let myself do.
My blood pressure was high, I had an increased heart rate, and I felt as though I had a constant
stomachache. Never again would I touch a drink with a higher proof than butterbeer. And even that
was to be drunk in very small amounts.
I faded in and out of consciousness. Luckily, I was never asleep long enough to dream or if I
was, I didnt remember. During snatches of being awake, I was aware of missing 3W. I missed the
fun, warm atmosphere and the security of being somewhere where nothing bad ever happened. I
missed listening to Fred and George toss around new product ideas. I even missed the obnoxious
little children racing up and down the aisles.
I woke once to see Dr. Branford standing beside my bed.
Only a few more hours, Anya. You can make it, he said with a reassuring smile. Youre a lot
stronger than you think you are. I called him something really mean that I dare not repeat in a
whisper in the middle of the Sahara desert and abruptly fell asleep again.
A pounding pain reawakened me in my head that seemed to roll in waves down my body. Dr.
Branford was still there, along with Neville and Hermione. Hermione was saying something to me
but it sounded as though she was speaking to me from underwater.
Want... drink... I managed to gasp. My chest cavity felt as though it was becoming smaller and
smaller and my breaths came in shorter gasps.
Get one of those damned Muggle air masks on her, Hermione said angrily. We cant have her
gasping like a mermaid out of water. Neville disappeared for a moment, then my mouth felt funny
and I could breathe better.
Youre doing wonderful, love, a faraway yet familiar voice said. I blinked a few times and looked
over to the side of the bed opposite where the doctors were standing. There was a figure in such
bright white that it blinded me. I squinted away from the light and it faded slightly. I made out
features.
Daddy? I whispered. I heard murmuring from the side of the doctors, but paid no attention.
The ghostly specter on my right nodded. Daddy, you must be so ashamed of me, I whimpered,
tears springing to my eyes. Merlin knows Im ashamed of myself. He reached down to wipe my
tears away but his fingers passed through my face.
We all make mistakes, Anya. It is best to be grateful that you are able to take care of your
consequences. He smiled kindly at me and I felt the warm weight of his hand in mine. It was
impossible, but I was far too incoherent to think much of it.
I messed up really bad, Daddy. George doesnt care anymore... Shellys with you now... I hate
being alone. So scared.
Youre never alone. I promise you that youre never alone. Your mother and I are with you always.
 G HOST OF A R OMANCE 55

Just a few more minutes, Anya. Hang on, Nevilles voice broke through the haze. I concentrated
on nothing but my fathers face and the sound of his voice until I felt a slow dissipation of pain in
my body. It was as though sand was slowly being poured through a sieve and I rested, exhausted,
back against my pillows. My father faded slowly as I fought to maintain a grasp on his hand, my
lifeline.
Im so proud of you, princess, he murmured. I could have sworn I felt him kiss my forehead
very softly.
You made it; I knew you would. Simon, maybe. Or Neville. Couldnt tell. Ill get some
Dreamless Sleep Potion. You could use some peace. I felt a poke in my arm and everything after
that was a peaceful blackness.

*****

Miss Parker, an excellent job, I must say, Neville said with a broad grin. He offered his hand. I
smiled back and shook his hand as I shouldered my bag. I admit I had my doubts, but here you
are.
Here I am, I sighed. He frowned.
Something else troubling you? he asked. Ah, the man was perceptive. I sat on the bed and he
reluctantly sat beside me. I had taught him well; he was watching me as though interested in what
I was about to say. Are you worried about telling everyone about what happened? I mean, besides
those who dont know? I think you should be enormously proud of yourself.
Thats just it. Ive got no one, Neville, I said in a strangled voice. I had never voiced the words
before, but they were so hollow and empty and... true. Theres no one out there waiting for me...
no one to be proud of me. He looked down at me with not pity but sympathy in his eyes. Im going
home to an empty house.
Now I dont believe that for one minute, Anya, he said gently, as though coaxing someone to
step away from the Owlery window because they had too much to live for. George has been here
every day... He asked me not to tell you he was here, but hes come every day and watched through
the viewing window, if just for a little while. My eyes flickered over to the one-way mirror next to
the door. Sometimes I would allow him in here for a few minutes while you were asleep. Whether
he admits it to you or not, hes very concerned for your well-being. Neville fell silent then, and
studied me carefully.
He was here? I repeated.
Every day, he confirmed. My mind spun, digesting this new information. He had given every
indication he was fed up with me but to be so worried? Why wouldnt he want me to know he was
here? Damn, and I thought I had everything figured out. Look, Anya, youre a bright, wonderful
witch. George knows this and hell act on it as he sees fit. As a spokesperson for males everywhere,
I tell you with all confidences that blokes are severely daft when it comes to women. But I know you
two will figure things out.
That was my life in a nutshell: one big misunderstanding. Couldntve said it better myself,
Neville.
Thanks, Neville, I said, forcing a smile. I stood and stopped, startled, to see Angelina in the
doorway. Before I knew what was happening, I got a hug and a kiss on each cheek.
Angelina, what are you doing here? I stammered. She laughed and waved off my words as
though they were silly nothings.
You didnt think I was going to let you go home all by yourself? Goodness, youve been in the
hospital for a week! Mrs. Seven-Months-Pregnant said as though I should have known it all along.
I smiled gratefully as Neville excused himself politely, said he had rounds to make, and made a
hasty departure.
Angelina, really, I can make it home on my own. You really shouldnt have bothered I began.
Angelina smiled over at me, one hand over her swollen stomach, the other waving away my words.
So I take it youre a part of the Society Against Angelina Doing Things On Her Own, are you?
Well, Freds minister, but you can run for deputy minister, she said flippantly as we exited the room
and slowly began walking down the hallway together. I had just thought to go slow so she could
keep up, but I was the one lagging behind slightly. Freds kept me cooped up in the blasted house,
as though I had some sort of disease. For Merlins sake, Im pregnant, not ill. I laughed with her
at this; Angelina Weasley was always one to get her own way. After a few more minutes of silence
and a slight slowing of the pace on her part, she touched my arm softly.
Oh, how terribly insensitive of me... how are you doing, Anya? she asked gently. I avoided her
eyes and looked down at my shoes as we turned a corner.
56 H ARRY P OTTER

Im okay, I lied. I wasnt okay. Not yet. Soon, I would be, but not yet. Pretty tired. Im probably
going to sleep through the next three days. I chuckled nervously.
Bad times are hard. Sometimes it seems like it wont get better, doesnt it? I didnt look over at
her. I didnt answer. As soon as my eyes would meet hers, she would know. I gave myself a good
mental smack for it. I couldnt wear my heart on my sleeve like that. But if theres one thing Ive
learned about hard times, its that the harder they are, the better things seem to be when theyre
over. A reward of sorts. This time I did look over at her. I acted irresponsibly and irrationally and...
I was going to get rewarded for it?
I know Alicia and Katie and I werent terribly... er... welcoming to you back at Hogwarts. We
were just teenagers who had found a target, childish foolishness. For a moment, I wondered if she
was going to ask for the forgiveness Id granted her thousands of times over. We didnt include you
because we didnt think you were strong enough. But I know now that you are strong enough and
you will make it. Have some faith in yourself.
I have no reason to, I said softly. We were now standing just outside Paracelsus. There was
nothing more I wanted to do than take a taxibroom home, feed my cat and have myself a good long
cry. Something kept me there, though; something kept me rooted to the spot, listening to Angelina.
Enough of that no self-esteem centaur crap! Angelina said, in all her frustrated glory. Then
I appreciated why Fred loved her so much; she was his perfect match. He would never be able to
walk all over her, push her over. She was a match, an equal, and a partner. She didnt take no for
an answer. Her way or the flyway. Youre a wonderful person, you know that. You made it through
a procedure that loads of witches and wizards havent had the courage to attempt.
One time when you were writing home to your parents in first year, and you didnt think anyone
was listening (not to mention you have this awful habit of muttering as you write), you asked them
why you were placed in Gryffindor. This is why, Anya. You may not be out there with Harry saving
the world or being a Quidditch superstar like Alicia or broadcasting Quidditch all over the world
like Lee. Just because theyre making flashy accomplishments doesnt mean the battles you win go
unnoticed.
I blinked at her for a few moments, not entirely sure what to say. It was absolutely the most
beautiful thing anyone had ever said to me, but at the same time, terribly confusing. The silence
hung comfortably in the air as I tried to absorb what she said. After a while, as the quiet seemed it
would never be broken, Angelina nudged me gently. I would think you want to get home.
Thank you, I said in a broken voice.
*****
I stood silently at the top of the hill, ignoring the breeze that whipped my cloak about my legs.
Though windy, it was an otherwise perfectly sunny day with only the fluffiest of clouds hiding the
periwinkle sky. Cruelly ironic sort of weather for a funeral, but then, it was the only day of the week
that I had been out of Paracelsus that the weather had been nice.
The priest had long since left and there were only five or six others left standing around Shellys
grave. I raised my eyes from her tombstone to see Matthew and Andrea Walters bow their heads
and walk solemnly from the site. My heart ached for them, for they had loved and supported Shelly
throughout her entire life and thought there was no finer child anywhere in the world.
Fred had stopped by earlier, just after the priest had left, and placed the flowers near Shellys
name. He stood by me for a few minutes and he reached over to squeeze my hand. I held his hand
for a little while and pretended he was George.
How are you doing? he asked after a while. I laughter bitterly, sniffled and then wiped a few
tears from my face.
Not the greatest question to ask at a funeral, I said, looking up at him. He offered a sad smile.
Sorry, he said softy. I nodded. I really mean it... I am sorry... so, so sorry. At this point, I
dont think he was talking to me anymore. He blinked rapidly for a moment, swallowed hard and
then pulled his hand out of mine to gently set it on my shoulder. George misses you, you know,
he said, voice strong. I dropped my eyes and looked at my shoes.
Yeah? I asked, trying not to sound too interested.
Yeah... I reckon you not coming to visit him any more broke his heart. Youve got to be more
careful with that heart of his, Anya. Youre the only one he ever let hold onto it.
I shook my head and swallowed back tears, once more reminded of me and Georges fading
friendship, just when I needed it most. Katie had his heart and always would. Bless Fred; his heart
was in the right place, but his words were false.
Maybe he ought to come see me, too, then, I retorted, sounding harsher than I had intended.
Fred squeezed my shoulder, and then dropped my hand.
 G HOST OF A R OMANCE 57

Itd be awful stupid if the two of let something get in between you like this, he said simply.
Both of you have too much pride to admit how much you need each other. See you around.
He began to walk away, but not before I could toss a Thanks, Freud, over my shoulder. He
waved and, with a small wink, Disapparated before my eyes.
I turned to the sound of my name being called and saw a young couple approaching me. I
recognized the woman as JBelle Jubilee (now Richardson), an old Hogwarts friend of mine and
Shellys. I hadnt seen her since Christmas, the last time the three of us were together. She
stumbled into my arms and we held each other for a long while, not speaking.
As we held each other, I looked over her shoulder at Daniel, her husband. He was standing
awkwardly off to the side, hands in his pockets. He nodded distractedly in my direction with a
sympathetic smile as I felt JBelle pull away from me. I watched as she wiped tears from her own
face.
So this is what it takes to get you to cross the pond, huh? I asked, an awful attempt at
lightening things. JBelle began to cry harder at this.
Oh, Anya... Oh, Im so sorry... I never meant to lose touch. But with the baby and all... She
wiped her cheeks awkwardly with the back of her hand. Im so sorry. We hugged again, me feeling
a deep ache in my chest for my horrible words. Thats absolutely no excuse for... for my behavior.
Compared to the way JBelle second-guessed herself, I looked like Gilderoy Lockhart. The poor
thing was so confident and friendly on the outside, but she constantly worried about how she
appeared to others. It took Shelly and I years to convince her not to listen to our schoolmates or
care what those schmucks thought.
Im moving back here to the UK... I cant lose touch with you again, she murmured into my
shoulder, voice muffled in my robes. I rubbed JBelles back gently; she needed the comfort. And so
we stood together, holding each other, mourning the loss of friendship.
*****
By the time my second full week of returning to normal life rolled around, I decided to get my real
job back. While the money from my inheritances would hold me over for quite some time, I couldnt
dodge work forever. I had too quickly thrown away the offer to work at 3W again and decided to
ask for my job back. It would take an incredible amount of will to swallow my pride and do it, but I
would do it.
I entered 3W cautiously, poking my head inside first. Not a soul, customer or employee. I stepped
inside and was nearly knocked off my feet in a wave of nostalgia. It was as though I hadnt set foot
in the store in centuries.
I paused in the third aisle, picking up a Parrot Pillow affectionately. Oh, how Id missed working
here. Someone once said that if you enjoy your job, youd never have to work a day in your life.
Well, Id worked plenty of days in my life, but never here.
I heard the front door open and someone enter, but I didnt take much notice. I heard another
door (door to back room, most certainly) open and a pair of voices begin to converse. Finally, I
put the soft pillow back of the shelf tenderly and moved to leave the aisle, when I heard a familiar
voice... but one I hadnt heard in over a year.
... and so Lee looked down on his plate and it was sitting right there. Isnt that a scream? It
was Alicia Spinnet, an old friend of Angelinas... an old tormentor of mine. I shook my head and
tossed the thoughts from my mind. It was just some stupid childhood differences back at Hogwarts.
Wed all been kids; too easily hurt and too easily hurting others.
Stop by for anything in particular or have you not yet gotten over your unrequited love for me?
Fred asked idly. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He certainly was offhanded in such matters
of the heart.
Oh, please, Alicia said with disbelief in her voice. As if my love for anyone could be unre-
quited. The two laughed and I held back a remark about humility. Actually, I stopped by to see
if the rumors were true. Did that Parker girl from Hogwarts really drink and fly? I mean, I know
George talked to her sometimes back at school... My eyes narrowed. Talked to me sometimes? He
was my best friend and she knew that damn well. Grr... Alicia had always been my least favorite of
the Chasers.
Yes, something like that happened, but
Wow, never thought someone like Parker would do something like that. I considered throwing
the Parrot Pillow at her. Finally tipped over the edge, did she? I always knew she was a bit unstable
back at Hogwarts, never one for Quidditch, not particularly good at any of her classes...
She did well in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, Fred said quietly. I smiled. Someone
had remembered. Alicia sighed.
58 H ARRY P OTTER

Only because Granger helped her. Tell me: does George still take pity on her and let her tag
along? Whereas a comment like this during second year might have sent me into tears, now it
made my blood boil. Pity, indeed. I clenched my fists at my side and fell back into naming dragon
species to calm myself.
Pity? Im sorry if thats all you believe their friendship is about. As a matter of fact, I think
youre jealous.
Jealous? Alicia laughed incredulously. Thats rich. Im very happy with Lee; you should know
that. I dared a glance and saw a skeptical look on her face. Quite pissed, I could tell.
You never liked having George terribly close to Anya, even back at Hogwarts. You had this
future set in your mind that the three Chasers would pair off with the three Jesters. His tone was
mocking. You didnt care what happened to the little overlooked common girl. Youve always been
one to get what you want, but it drove you mad that your little prophecy would be unfulfilled. So
you did your best to keep the commoner from wanting to be friends with the Jester, because then
he would always have a distraction from the Chaser. Little do you know that the Jester is quite
satisfied with his commoner and keeping them apart after the Chaser has already moved on is just
futile. Freds last words were harsh and sounded rushed. Poor bloke had no foresight. The brash,
sure look on her face had faded and shed gone distinctly white with disbelief.
Fred Weasley, I never, in all my life, tried to
Spinnet, its not something to be proud of or ashamed of. You were just a kid wanting the best for
your good friends without thinking that you were hurting others. Katie and George had something
special once; we all know that. But keeping up this resentful facade against Anya because George
still has her and not Katie will not help things.
Thats preposterous! Theyre not even romantically involved and even if they were, it wouldnt
last long. Ever since George came to his realization, hes never been in a fully functional relation-
ship. Hes always been left unfulfilled because one part of his psyche was left unsatisfied. Either
hes ended it or his partner saw the writing on the wall and did the honors on heror hisown. Katie
was what he needed and now that shes gone, there cant be another! At this, she turned on her
heel and stormed out of 3W.
Fred looked after her for a few moments, not saying a word. Finally, he shook his head and
sighed. I waited until he turned around to place something on a shelf before taking a few steps to
sneak out of the store. I didnt want him to know Id been there. His voice stopped me.
You know, my wife is a whole lot better at sneaking around and spying than you are, Anya, he
said as he turned around. I paused and gave a nervous smile.
How long have you known I was there? I asked. He grinned.
Depends. How long have you been there? I rolled my eyes. Typical, typical Fred. Just joking.
I only noticed you when you tried to slink out of here like Crookshanks used to sneak in (damn cat).
I take it you heard everything?
Yeah... dont really care what she thinks either. I shrugged. If what everyone wanted was for
George to be forever consumed by Katies ghost, far be it from me to stop him.
How heartless.
If Id been a house-elf, I would have run home and shut my ears in the oven. But as I wasnt, I
just felt a sick feeling of guilt in the pit of my stomach.
Whatd you stop by for? More confessions of unrequited love? He wiggled his eyebrows and I
had to roll my eyes a second time.
But of course. We allowed ourselves a good laugh before sobering. Actually... My voice began
to sound sheepish and my nerve was beginning to fail me. I came to ask for my old job back. I
chewed my lower lip nervously, awaiting the verdict.
Its yours, of course. Weve gone through three other girls in two weeks. None of them could
figure out the way you organized things.
I do have my own system, dont I? I said with a bit of a chuckle. It may have looked like a
mess to others, but I knew precisely where everything was. Seriously, though, thank you. I really
appreciate it, especially since Ive been a bit... er... less than sociable with you recently. Fred
waved it off.
No big deal. But the question is, are you and George going to behave as though you each
found out the other had a crush on you? He said this in a half-mocking tone, but I knew in that
moment, that George had told him everything. And yes, he told me everything, Anya, he said,
reading my thoughts. Im not going to get involved or tell anyone what they did was right or wrong.
Things happen at their own pace. So what if it took you and George a bit longer than most? You
are dealing with the more daft of the famous Weasley pair. Bit longer for what? To screw up a
friendship entirely too early? Or to initiate a relationship entirely too late?
 G HOST OF A R OMANCE 59

Of course it wasnt the latter. Id done nothing to initiate a romantic relationship. I had only
made an advancement to shag him to shut out the rest of the world. Now, after lots of thought, is
when I wanted to give the relationship a try. Then, I had just wanted a quick solution to make the
world go away. Fred, apparently, could tell it was bothering me, so he quickly changed the subject.
Can you come in tomorrow morning? I want to run a few ideas past George and I need you to
pull a few files for me. I nodded. If George was at work the next day, then fine. Id cross the bridge
when I got there. If not, that was fine, too.
Sure, I smiled. Well, Ive got a long walk home, so I ought to get going. Thanks again, Fred.

*****

As I closed the door behind me, I felt a sort of sense of relief. No more nonsense and practically
hiding from George. What would come would come and I would meet it when it did.
I put out Stevies water dish and sank into the large pouf in my living room. I looked across the
room to see my fathers picture on the mantle. I remembered his echoing voice from the hospital
and wondered if he truly had visited me. While he and Mum had never formally become ghosts, a
lot of theories circled around that the dead were always with us.
In those moments, I missed my father more than anything in the world. Hed been my rock, the
one strong place I could always count on. I liked to think I was strong for him, too, just before he
passed. Before I knew it, I was being sucked into my own memory.
I picked up my fathers weak hand and placed it in my own. It was amazing. I had always been
the one to go to him for strength. But to see my protector, the one man whod loved me even when
I spit peas in his shoes, looking so terribly weak, terrified me. I cleared my throat and began to
speak. If... if its too hard... you can let go. I wont... I cant... I cant blame you for that. I paused
and sniffled back tears. Say hi to Mum for me?
My fathers comforting blue eyes opened a little and he gave me a sleepy smile. It broke my heart
to see him take such effort to move the muscles in his face. If I thought for even a moment that hed
listen to me, Idve told him to save his strength. His lips parted and from between them flowed the
deep sound of his voice, Say it to her yourself... shes standing over in the doorway.
With a terrible ache in my stomach, I turned around and looked in the doorway. How silly of me,
of course no one was there. I looked back down at my father, whose eyes were still trained in the
corner of the tiny hospital room.
Daddy, theres no one there, I said softly. He didnt seem to hear me; he just continued to
sustain the tiny smile on his face.
Oh, Anya, your mother is so beautiful... so much like you. He reached up a very weak hand
a swept a lock of hair behind my ear. I whispered for him to rest and gently laid my opposite hand
over his. His facial expression suddenly changed, and I could tell he was hurting and didnt want
my to know. For the thousandth time, I damned the doctors that were unable to treat his heart
condition. Time for me to go, princess. Ill be there when you get married. Both of us will.
My lower lip quivered and tears filled my eyes. I wasnt ready to let go of him yet. I was only
twenty-two, for Merlins sake. I was barely more than a child. But more than thinking of myself, I
knew he needed me to be strong in his final minutes.
Im not getting married, remember? I reminded him, in a light, teasing tone. Im going to live
in a big house on the end of a block with a hundred cats. It was an old joke that I was to grow up
and be a spinster, after Daddy had made fun of the way I slurped spaghetti when I ate. He told me
no one would ever marry me if I ate like that.
Daddy shook his head at this, though. Dont be silly, princess. Someones going to fall in love
with you and youre going to fall in love with him and youll live happily ever after; I just know it.
Apparently, he didnt remember the joke as fondly as I had. How about that nice George boy youre
always running around with? Dont worry when I get up there, Ill pull some strings, all right?
He winked sleepily and despite my worry, I blushed. My father suggested I date him at least twice
a day. He didnt understand that what George and I had was special, not to be complicated with
romantic nonsense. But I couldnt honestly tell him right then and there that the thought hadnt
crossed my mind.
Okay, Daddy. But for now, just rest. I love you. It was important he heard me say those
three words. It was not time to argue about my future. I had to make my fathers last moments as
peaceful as possible, though I wanted him to stay more than anything in the world. I also knew it
was far too hard for him to hang on much longer. He had selflessly held on this long for only my
sake.
I love you, too, princess. He ran his finger along my cheek affectionately, looking very proud of
me for some reason. I gently tucked the covers in around him.
60 H ARRY P OTTER

Goodbye, father, I said through tears. So maybe my no-crying streak hadnt been a solid eight
years. I wiped tears from my eyes, and kissed his forehead softly as his eyes slipped shut. I rested
my head very gently against his chest, not moving until the recurring beep became an endless
stream of sound.
So what happened to us? I was so caught up in my thoughts that I hadnt realized I was no
longer alone in the kitchen. I leapt from the table, wand in hand. I pointed it with a shaking hand
at the man who dared intrude into my house.
George.
Figured.
What do you think youre doing? I asked in a high-pitched voice that was not my own. George
stared goggle-eyed at me, eyes trained on my wand. I snorted and tossed it on the table. My
adrenaline levels slowly receded and I sighed. Dont look at me like that; Im not going to hex you.
George frowned and sighed himself. His shoulders sank and he looked a whole lot older than the
last time Id seen him. Of course, that was impossible; itd only been three weeks. Three weeks that
had seemed like an eternity.
Anya... he began in a pleading tone. No, no, no, stop that! I was supposed to be independent
and self-sufficient and strong all on my own, but my heart ached at the simple sound of his voice.
So I decided to answer his question.
Us? There never was an us, George. Its always been the prankster and the little girl he took
pity on. Everyone knows it now, so you can stop pretending. The words sounded harsher than
intended, but it was the truth. Okay, maybe it wasnt the truth, but Alicias words still stung.
George took a step forward and put his hands on my upper arms, as though trying to get me
to focus on him. I tried not to melt against his warm, safe touch, but it was very hard. He was
watching me carefully with his blue eyes as he spoke in a whisper, Little girl... pity... pretending?
Anya, whats wrong with you? Who has been telling you these things? He was looking at me as
though I was the only person in the world... as though he was intent on making me understand
something.
You left me by myself just like everyone else, I said, voice shaking. Go on then! I dont care
anymore!
George shook his head slowly. I dont believe that. His touch didnt waver and I dropped my
chin down my chest, unable to look into his eyes any longer. He moved one hand and put a finger
under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. Im here now, arent I?
George I began, but he dropped his arms and cut me off.
You know, visiting works both ways, Anya! Angry wasnt the word to describe his voice. Des-
perate.
Doctors orders say I cant Apparate for another two weeks and my broomstick license is sus-
pended for the next three years. It wasnt an excuse at all. Id walked to Hogsmeade to go to 3W
and his home wasnt terribly far. I could even have used Floo powder.
Theres an old fashioned thing called walking, you know. I threw my arms down at my sides
in frustration.
I just want to give up... move far away and become a Muggle or something. Ive got nothing left
holding me here. George stepped closer to me again, shaking his head slowly. There was very little
room left between us and my heart began to beat just a little bit faster.
Youve got me. And I need you here, too. Again, the desperation was present in his voice. But
hed said the words Id longed to hear. He needed me. For what? And why had he waited so long to
return to me?
What, you cant fill the position of record-keeper? The words left my mouth before I knew what
I was saying.
He shook me, as though trying to get some sense into me, but not hard enough to hurt. He
wasnt even holding my arms tightly, but I still felt safe. Safe, safe, safe. It was ridiculous, really.
Stop it.
You never needed me before. And all at once, I felt his lips pressed roughly against mine.
Before I could properly reciprocate or even know what was happening, hed pulled away and locked
eyes with mine.
He began to speak, words coming out in a rush, as though it was the most important thing I
know what was going on in his head. Anya, Ive always needed you. Since day one, when Snape
paired us together in Potions and I didnt know how to make a Hair Growing Potion and you told
me to put the pixie dust in... I have always needed you. Our faces were very close and I wondered
idly if he was going to kiss me again or if I would have to initiate it myself.
 G HOST OF A R OMANCE 61

All at once, I remembered him pulling away from my kiss not more than a month ago. I remem-
bered him making a half-arsed excuse. I remembered the hollow click as the door closed behind
him. He needed me because he needed an outlet for his problems, a source of advice. But he didnt
want me like I wanted to be wanted.
Then why didnt you... you may need me but you dont want me. I turned my face away. Oh, if
that was all it took to make the tension in the room dissipate.
Thats not true. Anya, I didnt leave because I didnt want you. I left because... because I cant
give what I want for you. I cant promise that life will be perfect. I want you to be happy... Im just
afraid I wont be able to give that to you. I looked back up at him and raised a hand to gently touch
his cheek. The expression on his face made me think he was utterly amazed at my touch and that
it was the first time he felt it.
I cant promise happily ever after either, I whispered. But I can promise one day at a time.
I cant keep living like this, not knowing. And I couldnt. Id missed him so badly even if I was
pretending to be okay without him. While I could live without him, I didnt want to.
I tilted my head very slowly against his and soon our lips were pressed firmly together, no
hesitation from either end. I tangled my fingers in his hair and his arms slid slowly around my
waist. His touch was soft and firm at the same time. He smelled of the common room at nightan
achingly intoxicating mix of both safety and danger. I felt my hands go to the front fastenings of his
robes. I drew away slowly; I needed to look into his eyes and make sure this is what he wanted, too.
In his eyes was nothing but need. Need for me, need for my touch, didnt matter. It was me. I
wasnt insane.
My lips were nearly brushing against his as I spoke quickly, heart pounding. I want to know
everything about you, George. I want to know what you taste like, what you look like, what you
smell like. I want everything about you to fill my senses. I want to know your highs, your lows,
your in-betweens. Theres part of you that youve shut off to me, to everyone. I want to know those
secrets and I dont want to have any secrets from you.
I suppose he had to be sure of me, too, when he said, You... you want me, then?
I spoke a bit more slowly this time, making sure he heard and understood every word. When
I say that I want you, George, I mean it in every sense of the word... even adding meaning where
there was none before. There is so much in my life that hasnt made sense. But you make sense,
George... and so does this.
And after that, there was no further need for speech.

Huge thanks to my betas: Ebony (who was most helpful with the ending dialogue), John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady Christina,
Virgo (who jump-started me countless times), JM Robin and Pippin (who helped me with a very important plot facet and
helped me with a lot of the ending of this chapter). An extra credit belongs to Orson Scott Card, who created the descolada in
his awesome book Xenocide. Please read the Enders Game series if you have the timeXenocide is third in line. Remember
to check out the HP Paradise list if you want to discuss or read the incoming chapters before (or after!) theyre posted to
ff.net. Thanks everyone!
Reviewer Thanks: magical*little*me (Er... maybe? ::cringes:: Well, George is happy now, isnt he? Hes got his Anya
back and... and... ::hides:: Oh, goodness.), AngieJ (Gotta love Mo, dont you? And yeah, Id say theres just a wee bit of G/A
tension.), Juliette (I know, I know. After I killed Shelly off, I really regretted it, but it had to be done. At least George and
Anya got to kiss again, right?), Madhuri (Thank you for recognizing Anya so honorably. Shes the OC Ive put the most effort
into creating. I tried to give her pluses and faults. Hopefully, I did well?), Moriel (::frowns:: Go take a nap if youre so sleepy!),
*Ginny* (Eek, what a long review. To be very JKRish: Well spotted. I hope youre not committed to St. Mungos yet!), Jodie
(Aw, shucks. Thanks!), Julius (Woo hoo! See, thats what I get for praying to the Clarity Writing Gods!), Sreya (Yes, 5 was a
sad chapter. Hopefully, this one was better?), Ashlie (seal the deal eh? Thats a new way of putting it? ::winks:: I hope you
werent too offended that your cameo was terrible, but she did get the job done, no?), Quidditch (GO LES MIS! And what was
George doing in the bathtub? Playing with a rubber ducky, of course.), Gryffindor (Hey, Im lazy toodont feel bad.), Sheryll
(Because Im an awful, horrible, terrible person. ::innocent grin:: ), Coriann (::crying and cringing:: Yes, yes, you are!), Hydy
(Yes, 5 was rather delusional, wasnt it?), Sweetfires (What do YOU think?), Viola (::mouth opens and closes soundlessly::
The... THE Viola? The Dreamwalk Blue Viola?? ::becomes very self-conscious:: I hope youre enjoying the story. Does
Anya seem less needy in this chapter? I really tried to take your suggestion to heart and I hope Ive not failed you.), Nosilla
(See what happens to alcoholics? Bad, bad things.), DK (::hands DK some glue remover:: Sorry bout that.), gumdrop (Five
reviews in one sitting? Im impressed! I did like the Anya/Harry scene, too, and was glad someone else enjoyed it.), Colette
(Thank you! I know the beginning scene was rather sad, but Im not nearly as good as Eb is in characterizing, so a flashback
should have sufficed.), Leap (Yep, and Anya paid the consequences. Three years with no broomstickouch. Glad to hear
you think Anyas human.), and Simon Dr. Branford (Like your cameo? How many fics is that now? Twenty? And I didnt
complain just... er... reminded you.)
 C HAPTER S EVEN

Shadows of the Past

We were strangers, starting out on a journey,

Never dreaming what we had to go through.
Now here we are and Im suddenly standing,
At the beginning with you.

At the Beginning

Shelly had once told me bisexual men were great in bed, but I didnt think anything could ever feel
like that.
George had fallen asleep with his arms around me and his head resting very softly against my
shoulder. His hair tickled my throat. My arms were wound around him, too, and I got a pleasant
comfort I had never been afforded before: I got to hold him.
Other lovers Id had always held me in their sleep, always wanting to be the strong, romance
novel paradigm of masculinity. Sure, it was nice to be warm and held, but holding someone else
was just about as nice.
Sighing softly, I felt sleep tugging at the corners of my eyes and I leaned in towards George,
turning him over so that I could rest my head against his chest and sleep soundly in the shelter
of his embrace. Regardless of our confidences that things would be taken slowly and that things
would work, we had a whole lot to talk about in the morning. Might as well get a few hours of
uncomplicated bliss while I had the chance. With a muffled mmph, he drew his arms around
me and let his head fall lopsidedly onto to the pillow. I tilted my head to give him a gentle kiss
goodnight, but something caught my eye.
A crescent-shaped scarlike a half moonfell into the shaft of moonlight coming through my
window. Curiosity winning over sleepiness, I raised myself up on an elbow and peered closer. The
scar was old, probably from his childhood, and was about three centimeters long. It rested just
below the clavicle. I hadnt noticed it earlier because other issues had been far more pressing at the
time Georges bare shoulder had been revealed.
I reached out an inquisitive hand and brushed my fingers gently across the scar. As my fingertips
touched the soft tissue, I felt a yank behind my navel and the world around me dissolved.

Id love to go to Hogsmeade with you, George, a soft voice says. Music to my ears! Its all
I can do not to scoop her up in my arms and spin her around. The Gryffindor common room
dissolves into the setting around me and I can see Im standing with her at the bottom of
the staircase leading up to the girls dormitories. Shes smiling at me with her pink lips and
bright blue eyes. Her blonde hair looks so soft around her face. I cant help but return the
smile.
Cool, is all I can make myself say. Just then, another female voice (Angelina?) calls
for Katie. She smiles politely and steps around me.
See you later, she says quietly. My heart is racing. If this is what being in love feels
like, I want more of it. It takes me a moment or two to shake myself out of the mild euphoria,
but I finally turn and race for my twin, whos lounging in a pouf near the fireplace.
She said yes! I collapse haphazardly on the floor before him, a broad grin on my face.
Wow... a date with Katie Bell. Katie Bell. Even her name sounds like... like...
A bell? Fred supplies with a cheesy grin. I cant help but laugh.
Yeah, something like that. Are you going with Angelina next weekend? If you are, all
four of us could go together. Oh, but waitwhat if she expects it to be just the two of us
alone? What if she changes her mind? Fred only laughs at me.
 S HADOWS OF THE P AST 63

I dont know how Anya puts up with you when youre like this. Anya! Shed know
what to doshe always did.
Shes got more patience than a packet of ketchup, thats why, I retort. Brotherly affec-
tion, you had to love it. I look around the common room, but she isnt there and she hadnt
passed me when I was talking to Katie. Do you know where she is?
I thought I saw her go out the portrait hole, actually.
Thanks, Fred, I say, and bound for the portrait hole. I am still a bit giddy; Im going on
a date with Katie Bell! I climb through the hole and land in the corridor, still smiling. With
a nifty sidestep I bump the portrait closed.
Indeed, Mr. Weasley, the Fat Lady says, clinging to the frame in surprise. She looks
ruffled as she fixes her hairpiece.
Sorry about that, I laugh. Id love to race down the hallway, whooping and hollering.
What is it youre so excited about, young man? Honestly, Ill never understand the way
childrens minds work. One minute one of them is worried and looking for things that arent
there and another minute, one pops out with the energy of a hyperactive five year old. She
shakes her head briefly. It never ceases to amaze me. I blink a few times. Anya came
out just before me...looking for things that arent there?
The girl who came out before mewhich way did she go?
Down that way, the Fat Lady says, pointing to the left, towards the stairs that lead up
to the Charms corridor. It was as though she was looking for something that she couldnt
see... I had to go visit Mona over in the Defense Against the Dark Arts hallwayyou wouldnt
believe what Sir Cadogan and his pony were doing - but I did see her just wander up the
stairs. I nod slowly. Did I offend her by wanting to talk to Katie? No, Anya knows me
better than that. I cant wait to tell her Katie is going to Hogsmeade with me. I take the
stairs two at a time and finally reach the landing.
I just about turn a corner when I hear a voice that makes my blood freeze in my veins.
It is the sheer ominous tone of the voice rather than any semblance of familiarity.
You never were bright. Pity, pity, the voice hisses. Im trembling, my stomach in knots
as I take a step forward and peer around the corner. I remain frozen as I see Anya standing
before a hooded figure, wand outstretched. Do something! my mind screams. Respori
I unfreeze and leap forward, screaming, NO! drowning out the rest of the spell. A blue
light shoots out of the tip of the hooded figures wand, but Id distracted him or her just
enough for the arm to turn and the light misses Anya. The glowing ball ricochets off a suit
of armor and skims in a curve on my shoulder.
Pain.
Pain like I have never known before. I clutch at my shoulder and double over, my head
up just long enough to see the blue light strike Anya directly in the back. She turns slightly,
brown eyes wide, and I see them roll back in her head as she slumps to the ground, seizing.
Anya, no, I gasp, the pain in my shoulder almost driving me to my knees. The hooded
figure is gone, leaving only rapid footsteps in its wake. Finally, Anya lies still, eyes closed.
The only thing keeping me from passing out right there from the pain is that I know I need
to get to her. She needs me.
Finally, its too much. I collapse to my knees at her side and put a hand on each of her
shoulders. It takes a moment for me to catch my breath and clear my vision, but I manage
to do it. I shake her, muttering her name.
Anya, wake up...Oh, Merlin...just wake up...this is all my fault...should have done
something sooner... I cant help her here and I certainly am not going to drag her back
to the common room to get my wand and try some rather pathetic first aid magic. I take a
few deep breaths, preparing to ignore my shoulder. That isnt important now. Anya is. I
see a pool of blood beginning to form around her head and my heart rate doubles.
I slide my arms beneath her slender frame and lift her. White-hot agony tears through
my shoulder and I slump against the wall. Cant drop her. Have to hold her. Have to get
her help. Anya, Im so sorry. Should have stopped it. Stay with me. Cant lose you. I grit
my teeth and strengthen my resolve.
Agonizingly slowly, I stagger down the hallway. I must look quite a sight, robes torn
open at the shoulder, holding a bleeding girl in my arms. Shes so small, but she seems to
weigh more and more with each step. My vision is darkening and...

... I pulled out of the dream. I was breathing heavily as I slowly moved my hand from Georges
shoulder. I had just been inside his head, in his mind, in his memory. George was tossing and
turning, muttering little bits of sentences.
64 H ARRY P OTTER

Going to get you help... Anya, I promise... so sorry... Shouldve... There were tears on his face
as he held me to him and I pulled away from him gently.
George... George, wake up, I said softly, shaking him. His hands reached up and grabbed my
upper arms as his eyes snapped open. His eyes looked side to side for a few moments, as though he
was completely confused as to where he was. Im here; its okay, I whispered. He finally seemed
to understand then, where he was and why he was there. He wrapped his arms around me again
and held me against his chest, shivering.
I... Im sorry... didnt mean to wake you up... he murmured into my hair. I just had a bad
dream, thats all. He kissed my bare shoulder very softly and I could feel a tear fall against my
skin. I pulled away just enough to be able to look at him in the eye.
I know you did, I said softly, sweeping a lock of hair from his face. He still looked upset and I
nestled my head in the hollow of his shoulder, closing my eyes. His arms circled me again; it was
exactly what he needed.
I love you, you know, he said in a broken voice. I wiped the tears gently from his face, as hed
always done for me. You have to know.
I do know, I whispered. I love you, too. I let out a slow breath and felt George kiss the top of
my head very softly just before drifting off to sleep.

*****

No... stupid cat... get away! Come on! Let her sleep, you dumb feline! Leave her alone, Georges
voice greeted me as I awakened, still in his embrace. Stevie, get out of here. You always get to be
with her. My turn. I felt one of his arms move, then the sound of something soft being hit. There
was a hiss and the swipe of a paw, followed by a sharp yelp by George.
Mm? I slurred out, opening my eyes lazily. George was half-sitting up, holding one bleeding
hand and glaring at my cats retreating figure. What happened? I muttered. I looked at his hand
and gasped; Stevie certainly had given George a good swipe but ther were only a few drops of blood.
Oh, George, I whispered. I leaned over him and pulled my spare wand out of the drawer in the
nightstand next to my bed (Id lost my first wand a few years back and bought a new one only to
find my original wand the moment I got home from Ollivanders). I lifted his hand gently in mine
and healed the wound with a whispered spell, then cleaned up the blood. Are you all right? I
murmured, drawing my eyes to his.
He nodded slowly with somber eyes. Im more than all right. He reached up and touched
the side of my face with his fingertips. It was a nice, soft feeling. I felt a little giddy, actually. It
was amazing how natural he was behaving, despite the fact that our relationship had changed so
dramatically.
You really have that much faith in this, dont you? I said slowly. He nodded again and I covered
his hand with mine. I instinctively rested my head on his shoulder as his arm traveled around my
waist. I couldnt get over how real, how natural this was, how right it felt.
Why do you think we waited so long? I whispered. I know this thought has crossed my mind
before and Id like to think its crossed yours...
It has, he said quickly, but not with any trace of untruth. I think its probably because we
thought we would always have tomorrow to find out.
I dropped my eyes. Tomorrow. Something Shelly didnt have. Something I almost didnt have.
And now we know...
...We wont, George finished. We looked at each other and kissed very softly. Im so sorry I left
you. Twice.
I was being unreasonable both times.
It was still inexcusable. Youve never left me no matter how awful I was to you.
All I know is youve never treated me badly, never given me a reason to want to leave you. He
gave me a sideways smile. I turned over upon him and slid my arms around his neck. I liked getting
used to our new intimacy. Except for the time you stole my Skeedoodle and tried to feed it to Errol.
You deserved to be left for that one.
His eyes opened wide with innocence.
It wasnt me! It was Fred; I swear it. I arched an eyebrow. Id caught him red-handed in the
Owlery during third year when hed tried to do it.
You great big lying prat, I saw you do it! Of course, George wouldnt stand for such slanderous
words, so he began to tickle me until we were both thoroughly tangled up in my sheets, gasping for
air. Just... cause... you... can... tickle... better... doesnt... mean... you... didnt I squealed as
he began to tickle me again. Finally I collapsed against his bare chest and cried out for a truce.
 S HADOWS OF THE P AST 65

The two of us lay there for some time, listening to each other breathe, each others heartbeats.
George ran his fingers very slowly through my hair and hummed some tune that I was familiar with
but couldnt place. He dropped his chin and nuzzled the inside of my neck very softly.
Im hungry, I said after a moment. I looked up at him. You?
Orange juice. I have a strange craving for orange juice. I giggled; just like George to have an
odd fetish besides Chocolate Covered Mangoes. I wiggled out of his arms and grabbed my robes
that were lying on the floor.
Back in a minute then. I slid out from under the covers and put the robes on all in one fluid
motion. I cast a look back at George, who looked rather silly with red hair against light orange
pillows and beneath blue sheets that had yellow stripes. He smiled sleepily.
Youre beautiful, you know, he said softly. But, being George, he added, Even with clothes. I
rolled my eyes at him and slipped out the door, smiling to myself. I still had a goofy grin on my face
as I opened my refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice. Stretching up on my tiptoes, I got two
glasses out of the cupboard and set everything on the counter before me.
I heard a door open and close from somewhere outside the kitchen and smirked. George never
had been patient. I listened to the heavy footfalls as he entered the kitchen. I continued to pretend
not to notice as hands covered my eyes.
Guess who, a voice whispered, sounding terribly mischievous. Without answering, I spun
around and pressed my lips to those of the man behind me. For a moment, the kiss went one way,
most likely out of sheer surprise, but then ended. I opened my eyes and George stood before me,
looking terribly bewildered. Anya, I... I cant... whatre you...?
Something was off. I frowned slightly, and then gasped and raised a hand to my mouth as George
Number Two appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing ruffled robes and holding a hand in
his messy hair.
You... but... you... Fred?! George Number OneFred, actuallylooked between the two of us
with some sort of stunned amazement. Oh, Merlins ghost, Id just snogged Fred. Fred, what the
hell are you doing?
Whats going on in here? George Number Two the real Georgeasked. He looked just as
confused.
I thought... um... you were... uh... him, I said in a little voice. Id just slept with the man and
now I couldnt tell him from his own brother. Great wizards, how insulting. Freds confusion was
fading and his mouth began to curve a little at the edges.
Let me guess, Fred said, trying his damnedest to hide a grin, this isnt what it looks like. I
blushed harder, if possible, as the smile finally broke through and I couldnt help but notice how
please Fred looked with himself. George, undaunted, crossed the room and slid an arm around my
waist.
Actually, George said casually, this is exactly what it looks like. He turned and gave me a
kiss that took my breath away. I blinked a few times in dizziness as he righted me and arched an
eyebrow at his brother. My face must have been dragon heartstring red.
I came here because you were late to work, Fred said to me, looking positively beside himself.
George hadnt shown up either, but the hes always late. George snorted at this. I knocked, but
apparently you didnt hear me. You must have been... ah... wrapped up in other things. His grin
hadif possiblebroadened. The smarmy git was getting a perverse pleasure out of putting me on
the spot. So... he began idly, How longs this been going on?
Years, George said before I got a chance to respond. Since the Hogwarts Express on the way
to first year. Couldnt keep my eyes off her. I laughed a little and the tension in the room began to
disperse. Eh, last night... fifteen years ago... really, what is the difference?
Fourteen years and three hundred and sixty four days, actually, Fred answered, not missing a
beat. Their banter was cute at times, twinged with anger and cutting sarcasm at others, but this
was a bit unnerving.
I... um, Im sorry Im late, I apologized to Fred, chewing on my lower lip. He still looked as
though the Christmas holidays had come early.
No, thats fine. I was just... heh... wondering where you were. How about you start tomorrow
then? I nodded a little sheepishly and he rounded on his brother. You, I need in the store today.
So finish...whatever it was you were doing...and get back to 3W. Fred winked and Disapparated
without another word.
Ive never been so embarrassed before in my life, I groaned, burying my face against Georges
chest. He laughed and put his arms around me. I cant believe it. What is it with the two of you
sneaking into my house? Do you get some sort of kick out of it?
66 H ARRY P OTTER

Its great fun, he assured me. I stepped back but remained in his arms. He pressed his
forehead against mine, eyes closed. This is going to get complicated, isnt it? he sighed. I nodded.
It was bound to come up sooner or later anyway. Tell you what: one step at a time.
Id say last night was one giant leap, I giggled softly and he opened his eyes.
Enjoyed yourself that much, huh?
Im still tingling. His smiling eyes studied me for a moment.
Ive never felt like anything like it myself. He paused and smiled. My, Miss Parker, you are a
very attractive shade of red. I giggled again and pressed myself against him. The man could make
me smile and blush with a look or a word.
If you dont leave for work now, Im afraid youre not leaving at all today. He grinned devilishly.
Promise? I ruffled his hair and laughed when he batted my hand away.
Fred would be awful angry with me if I kept you from the shop.
Exasperation crept into his voice when he replied, Hes not my keeper, you know. I touched his
face softly to calm him. It seemed to work.
I know; I was just teasing. He relaxed visibly and smiled again. Without warning, he darted
forward and kissed me. Ill stop by for lunch. We can have the obligatory deep, meaningful,
complicate-everything discussion then.
What makes you so sure Im going to fix you lunch? I asked with an arched eyebrow.
You are lunch, he grinned. He kissed me again, this time longer.
Ill owl out for pizza. His smile didnt fade. See you later then. One more kiss, a barely audible
pop, and I was alone again.

*****

After having a ridiculously late breakfast, I went into my tiny backyard with my wand and knelt
before my garden. Id always had a garden no matter where I lived and some of my first memories
were of watching my mother garden and wanting to help. Id revived the old hobby in recent weeks
when Id had a few minutes free.
Most of the time, it was a wonderful distraction. One could easily get lost in the bursts of color
and sprouts of new life. Id been pretty decent in Herbology because I had been a patient student.
Above anything else, Herbology required patience. Being magical meant instant gratification and
easily developed impatience. Plants, no matter how magical, still worked on far slower clocks. One
had to care for the seed and nurture it. It must be fed and watered and kept where lots of sun could
get to it.
It was an easy thing to get lost in, but the thoughts swirling through my mind were just too
much. I set my wand down and stretched out on the sun-warmed grass. I closed my eyes and took
a deep breath of the fragrant garden.
Between my release from Paracelsus and Georges arrival the previous night, a lot of me had
changed. Id taken up gardening and expanded farther into my interest in Magical Creatures. Id
never realized what a gigantic world it was. For so long, my life had consisted of waking up, going
to work, having the occasional date, and returning home to an empty house.
It took what I thought the worst thing that could ever happenlosing Georgeto open my eyes.
As much as I missed him, and it hurt like a constant stomachache, it was something I had to go
through. When Shelly had been an aspiring writer in her Hogwarts days, she always wrote fantastic
love stories with the standard neglected princess and dashing knight. But she always made sure
the princess wasnt a damsel in distress. She told me that the princess could always make it on
her own without her hero, but by Merlin, she would never want to.
Wed dissolved into giggles at this, but now her words haunted me. Theyd been proven true in
the last few weeks. I could live without George in my life, but by Merlin, I would never want to.
Playing damsel in distress only irked those around me and got tiring after a while.
I turned over onto my side and played with the soft grass. George would be back soon, wanting
to over complicate everything. Well, it wasnt that he wanted to make things difficult; it was that
he overanalyzed situations and found tribulations where there were none. I wanted to go by our
word: one step at a time. We would have our fair share of troubles and awkward moments, and
wed probably get into a few good rows, but things like that had never destroyed our friendship.
Why should they destroy a romantic relationship?
Maybe it was just a fluke. Maybe he came over because he just needs an emotional outlet. You
made the first move, my mind taunted. It wasnt fair the way my mind was so insecure. I thought
Id left that Anya behind.
I must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I remembered was something small
 S HADOWS OF THE P AST 67

skittering past my head, and then a very sharp pain in my nose. I snapped my eyes open to see a
pair of very small, but very sad brown eyes staring directly into mine. I gasped and sat up quickly,
only to see the tail end of an Augurey disappear into my rosebushes.
The tiny bird peered at me from between the thorn branches, brown eyes wide. The poor thing
looked so droopy, but I then remembered that all Auguries had a bit of a weepy look to them.
Without breaking its gaze from mine, it fluffed its brown and green feathers. I smiled.
Its okay, little bird. I didnt mean to startle you. I rubbed my nose tenderly and was relieved
to find no blood. It let out a long, mournful cry and I shivered involuntarily. For a long time, it
had been believed that an Augurey cry was fatal, but later research proved that it merely foretold
a rainstorm. The bird squawked and then scampered through the bushes until I couldnt see it
anymore.
I smiled and stood, turning to go back in the house and then paused and looked back over at
my old hammock, half covered with the blanket Shelly had given me a few years ago. It had been
ages since I had just lain there, listening to songbirds. With a small smile, I circled the garden and
slid onto the hammock with a soft sigh. The sun was warm, but the ground had been chilly, so
I pulled the blanket over myself and closed my eyes. I had a few moments of uninterrupted bliss
until a deep male voice jarred me from my pleasant state.
Youre not asleep, are you? I opened my eyes and looked up at George. He was smiling down
at me uneasily.
Not anymore, I yawned, sitting up carefully. Id flipped out of the hammock far too many times
to move quickly while in it. He relaxed and sat by my side. With a little smile, he brushed a lock of
hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear.
Ready for the deep, meaningful over-complicate-everything discussion? he asked with a smirk.
I shook my head and he frowned.
George, I began, taking one of his hands, we dont need to look for the profound answer to
why it took us so long to realize we ought to be together. Theres no pressing demand for us to be
mushy and melodramatic. What it all boils down to is that I love you and want to keep you in my
life. I ended my little speech and realized that it was far mushier and melodramatic than we could
have come up with during a philosophical exchange.
And I love you, too, but we cant jump into this blindfolded
Well, why not? I cried in exasperation. Other couples do. Youve been on a blind date before
as have I. But weve got an advantage. We know each other inside and outno need to get involved
with messy pasts. I know all your dirty secrets anyway, I grinned.
George returned the grin and leaned very close to my ear. Not all of them, he said in a low
voice. A shiver ran up my spine, one of the good kinds. Not all the fun ones, at any rate. I giggled
as he pressed his lips very softly to my ear.
Do tell, I whispered. Come, join me. I pulled aside the blankets and he wedged himself into
the hammock beside me. Our legs tangled together beneath the blanket and I pillowed my head on
his chest. After a few moments of peace, I decided to make trouble.
I moved off George and raised myself on an elbow beside him.
So tell me about these secrets, I chided, touching the side of his face softly. He grinned and
nipped at the tip of my finger, which I yanked away with a yelp.
Serves you right, he said smugly. He paused a moment and then looked over at me with
curiosity. Have you ever made love in a hammock?

*****

I caught heat for the next three days from Fred for making George late back to work. Other than
that, life returned to normal.
Angelina was within days of her due date, so Fred spent a lot of time away from the store to be
with her. George told him that he was being ridiculous; she would send an owl at the first signs the
baby was coming.
Fred wouldnt have it. The poor man was completely and totally irrational when it came to his
wifes health. I suppose his nervousness stemmed from her illness back in January. Shed just
barely come out of that ordeal with her life. Now Fred was spending every waking moment with her,
only stopping by the shop to check on things.
He seemed wary of leaving us alone together, but I reassured him, telling him we would be very
professional while working. After all, he could trust me.
George, on the other hand, had very different ideas. He would wait until I was fixing the plants
in the windows (You can make those grow just looking at them, love, George would always say)
68 H ARRY P OTTER

and then whisper Boo! very loudly into my ear. Id gasp and spin around to face him, gullible
every time.
Youre horrible, I murmured as he rested his hands very gently at my waist. He kissed the side
of my neck very softly. This is highly unprofessional.
I can think of loads of unprofessional things to do, he chuckled in my ear. Each more fun
than the last...
It would never really get any farther than that and certainly not even that advanced if there was
a customer in the shop. Just the same, it was a bit odd to see him all day and then date him at
night. Perhaps I was overdosing on my time with him and while it was wonderful at first, I foresaw
problems.
Maybe I should get a job somewhere else, I suggested to him as he handed me a package of
Canary Creams to put on the shelf. Wed closed an hour earlier and were almost finished restocking
the backroom. He paused and held the next box in midair.
Youre not happy here? he frowned. I plucked the box out of his hand, shaking my head.
Im happy working here. Its the best job Ive ever had and you know that, George. Its just... I
stepped down from the ladder and stood at his side, looking up into his confused blue eyes. I tried
a different approach. Id rather not mix business with pleasure. Im afraid well see each other so
much that well get sick of each other and become irritable and snap at each other like Ron and
Hermione. George allowed himself a chuckle at this.
No one snaps like Ron and Hermione. Its like they each already have their comebacks ready
before the other speaks... its sort of amazing in a curiously twisted sort of way.
Meaning you find the idea fascinating, I giggled. He shrugged and grinned sheepishly. Finally,
he heaved a sigh.
I suppose youre right...but I will miss having you around here. And youve got to promise to
stay long enough to teach me that absurd filing system of yours. I poked Mr. Organized in the
chest. Ow, hey! I squealed as he got a mischievous glint in his eye. Before he could do anything,
I shelved the box Id been holding and raced out of the backroom.
I burst through the door and into the dark shop, ducking into aisle two and trying very hard to
stop giggling. I heard Georges patient footsteps exit the room and close the door slowly. I finally got
my giggling under control and peered out from around the corner. George was barely illuminated
in the shaft of moonlight from a window and he was glancing around in search of me.
Come out, come out, wherever you are, he teased. He dipped his head behind a display to
look and I scampered into aisle one, careful not to make a sound. When I turned around to check
on him again, he was gone. I looked around, paranoid, but didnt see him anywhere. I stood very
slowly, just in front of the display of Parrot Pillows.
GOTCHA! a voice shouted. I screamed as a very warm body collided with mine and we went
tumbling into the Parrot Pillows, which were far too asleep to squawk in protest. I found myself
looking up at a very breathless but very pleased looking George.
Damn, I whispered between heavy breaths. Hed certainly knocked the wind out of me.
Remember the last time Fred found us like this... well, not exactly like this... but just the
same? he asked, with a low voice.
Your point? I murmured.
Think the same excuse would work if we were caught this time? I laughed against the cloth of
his robes and pushed him off me.
Probably not, I told him. I reached a hand down to help him up, but he just pulled me back
down to him. Mmph, George... I began, but his lips silenced me.
Have you ever made love in a pile of Parrot Pillows? he asked lewdly, arching one eyebrow.
No, and I dont intend to, I giggled, standing again. Now get up, Romeo. Reluctantly and
looking very put off, George stood and brushed himself off. I looked up at him with wide, brown
eyes and took his hands in mine. Walk me home?

*****

On the last day of March, I meandered down Diagon Alley after work, needing both a satchel of Floo
powder and a birthday present for George. Id always liked Hogsmeade better than Diagon Alley.
Hogsmeade had more of a small town feeling to it while Diagon Alley reminded me more of one of
those seedy Muggle strip malls. But, alas, Hogsmeade was a small town, George had an inquisitive
mind and Id rather his present was a surprise.
I stopped in Dob and Winks for my Floo powder, waving hello to the house-elf at the front door.
Dob and Winks was a relatively new establishmentthe Diagon Alley location, at any rateand was
 S HADOWS OF THE P AST 69

pretty much one-stop shopping for everything. There had been a lot of public upheaval with its
existence in an already stable shopping location and I wouldnt be surprised if there was some sort
of fiery confrontation.
After buying the Floo powder (and, I had to guiltily admit to myself, a few other things), I won-
dered what to get George. Id always gotten him Zonkos products until Weasleys Wizard Wheezes
opened, in which case it became sacrilegious for me to set foot in the store. After that, it had been
odds and ends Id stumbled across that had a quirky allure to them. George always liked the things
I got himout of politeness or actual delightbut it was tough to come up with new ideas.
Id basically exhausted all Quidditch-related gear... but more than that I wanted to get him
something special. Something different, something one of a kind...
I came to the point where Diagon and Knockturn Alleys converged. Chewing my lower lip, I
looked down bright Diagon Alley, with its children racing around and bustling crowds, smiling
people. I turned my eyes on Knockturn Alley, with its dark, forbidden stores and shady characters.
Oh, what the Hades. I wasnt a child anymore. Holding my bag tightly, I started down Knockturn
Alley, trying to quell the uneasiness in my stomach. It was ridiculous to be scared...right?
On my left was an apothecary, with cracked windows and a rotted door hanging loosely off its
hinges. An old, hunchbacked witch staggered around outside, calling out prices for various items.
Hippogriff toenails, two for a Sickle! High quality for all potion uses! Moke skins, four Galleons
each! Great for moneybags! I blanched and looked away. Whatever had possessed me to come in
this place?
I shivered and walked on, clutching my bag closer. On my left, I saw Borgin and Burkes. An
employee was arranging something in the window. When he stepped aside, I could see that it was a
gnarled hand clutching a half-burned candle. I quickly drew my eyes away and continued down the
street. I didnt want to get something creepy for George. Just something interesting and different.
A few insalubrious characters passed me, beady eyes darting around suspiciously. I felt like
a sugar quill amongst blood lollipops. On my right, I spotted a small, brighter-looking store that
stuck out just as much as I did.

GRAYS GREY GATHERINGS

ODDS AND ENDS FOR THE ASTUTE OF MIND

Perfect. I crossed the cobblestone street quickly and ducked inside, a bell signifying my entrance.
The walls were covered in shelves of knickknacks, curios and other bric-a-brac. The store was
dimly lit and the only thing other than the shelves and two aisles was a dilapidated cashiers desk.
I pulled my cloak tightly around me and searched for the right thing.
A tea set that never spills? Nah. A tiny Puffskien brush? Not a chance; George hated the little
animals. Perhaps a suitcase that could fit six-dozen children inside? Tempting for all of Georges
nieces and nephews, but I doubt his brothers and sisters-in-law would appreciate the gesture.
Finally, I turned away from the wall shelves and started down the first aisle. It was mostly
stocked with clocks, one of which tried to bite me. I came to the end and was just about to turn the
corner when I saw a lonely oval-shaped object under a layer of dust. Carefully, I lifted it into my
palm and blew the dust from the lid. After coughing for a few moments, I pressed the tiny button
on the top and it popped open. It startled me and I nearly dropped it.
Wow, I whispered, looking into its face. The inside didnt look old at all; rather it looked as
though it was crafted just minutes earlier. There were intricate designs on the inside lid. From
what I could make out in the dim light, a knight was mounted upon a centaur and was positioned
at the base of the tower. At the top of the tower, leaning out of the window, was a beautiful princess,
long dark hair cascading downwards. I leaned forward and saw the knight looked extraordinarily
like George. So much like him, in fact, that I felt a shiver go up my spine. My eyes drifted upwards
and I saw that the princess was... me.
I gasped and snapped the pocketwatch closed. I held it for a few moments, trembling, before
I dared open it again. It was just my imagination. The knight and princess looked nothing like
George and me. It was merely my thoughts running wild. I opened it again slowly and looked at the
bottom. The bottom portion had no numbers, but twelve hands. I remembered once when Professor
Dumbledore had shown me a watch that looked astoundingly like this one. I flipped it over. The
date marked was 1373.
The perfect gift. Id fit the watch hands to read all sorts of silly things. George would love it. I
started for the front desk when a hand landed very heavily on my shoulder. I gasped and turned
around.
Snape, I breathed. Silvanus Snape stood behind me, yellowed teeth stretched into a disgusting
grin. I- Im sorry, I just wasnt expecting...
70 H ARRY P OTTER

Neither was I, he said silkily. He moved a hand towards my face, but I turned away. I didnt
expect such an innocent flower like yourself to be in Knockturn Alley all by alone. And without
your George to protect you... My heart pounded against my ribs and I clutched the pocketwatch to
my chest. My other hand was holding tightly to the wand inside my robes. Snape only seemed to
be amused by my facial expression. I am terribly sorry to hear of the passing of your good friend,
Michelle, he said in a low voice.
Her name was R-Rochelle, I stammered. It wasnt terribly important and Id rather he didnt
know, but it was all I could think of. Snape flinched a little at this, but recovered quickly.
Nonetheless, the pain must be crushing. If I hadnt known better, Id have thought he sounded
genuinely sorry. You should have someone to... he stepped closer, console you. I narrowed my
eyes at him, furious.
Maybe you ought to leave, a voice said from behind me. I spun again and looked up into smoky
grey eyes. The man that stood there looked to be about twenty-five and had blonde hair that fell
just in front of his eyes. I turned around to look back at Snape, squaring my shoulders. Snape
looked between the two of us, not losing a single grain of composure.
And what place do you have to tell me to leave? Snape asked coolly.
This is my store and Im strongly suggesting you go. I could tell that there was no suggestion
in his tone. Snape gave us each another long glance, eyes sizing us up.
He leaned very close and whispered in my ear, Until next time. I shrunk away and didnt open
my eyes until I heard the bell in the front of the store ring. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I
gasped, spinning around quickly.
Are you all right, miss? the stranger asked. I let out a relived sigh; he seemed nice enough.
Yes, Im all right. I had kind of wanted to deal with Snape on my own, but the man meant well.
Has you ever seen that man before? he asked, looking at me with worried eyes. I nodded.
Old boyfriend or something? I suppose the look on my face must have been pretty humorous, for
he laughed and said, Sorry, sorry, guess not. No offense. He smiled again and went behind the
counter.
I followed him, stopping in front of the counter. I still had the old pocketwatch in my hands. It
probably cost a zillion Galleons, but Id ask anyhow.
Um... Id... I began. He turned to look at me, and then spotted the item. A small smile crept
across his face.
Ah, hardly anyone gives my grandfathers old watch a second look, he said with a small smile.
Oh, this belonged to your grandfather? Histories of objects were always intriguing. Dont you
want to keep it? He shook his head.
Nah, Grandfather never liked that one for some reason. His best friend had given it to him, but
he was in love with her and...well, the feelings werent returned. He got rid of it to try to forget about
her. Lost its sentimental value, I suppose. He shrugged, but I thought it was a very sad story. He
said something about the life of the giver was in the eyes of the character. Grandfather spoke in
riddles all the time. I really have no idea what it means. I frowned down at the watch, and noted
its date again.
I guess its rather expensive, I said slowly.
Well, Grandfather told me to sell it for thirty Galleons... I winced, But I think thats too much,
too. How about fifteen? Still a bit pricey, but more affordable than thirty Galleons. I mused for a
moment. George would definitely like it.
Sounds good.

*****

George and I had planned to out to dinner with Fred and Angelina the night before his birthday
(The family was holding the party for the twins the next day at the Burrow.), but there was an
emergency at 3W. During lunch break (the store closed for half an hour), a pewter cauldron was
thrown through the front window and destroyed an entire aisle of merchandise. Someone had
broken in and trashed the rest of the place. But the worst part of it was that that someone wrote
derogatory slurs all over the wall, Georges name being mentioned several times.
It was sick. The wizarding world was just as intolerant of sexual diversity as the Muggle world
was and it infuriated me. When Fred and I had reentered the store (Angelina and George were
behind, ogling something in the window at Zonkos), my heart stopped. The front window had been
reenchanted to look as though it was in one piece and everything inside was just how it was left.
Oh, Merlin... Fred murmured. His usual temper wasnt to be seen, for the shock was too fresh.
As our eyes roamed over the walls, over all the cruel words that had been scratched into the surface,
 S HADOWS OF THE P AST 71

I heard Georges gasp behind me.

George... I started, turning to him. His face had gone white as he read the horrible things on
the wall.
Fred had summoned Ministry officials to photograph the damage and see if any aura threads
were left behind. Not even a Muggle fingerprinting kit got us closer to the person whod done the
horrible thing. The only witnesses saw someone in a black cloak slip into the store. The Ministry
officials speculated the person had gone inside and enchanted the inside into stasis so no one could
see what was happening. Fred saw Angelina home despite her protests and offers to help and then
the three of us were left to sort out the pieces.
When I got home late that evening (Fred and George promised to clean up the rest), I opened
the Daily Prophet and continued job hunting. The position that seemed most appealing was a
position as psychiawitch at Paracelsus. However, the requirements included a three-year course
at the hospital university. I sighed and rubbed my eyes before turning the page. There had to be
something for me.
I heard a knock at the door and turned my head towards the sound. It was almost midnight.
Far too late for visitors, I thought. Then I remembered that George had told me hed try to stop by.
Come in! I called anyway. The door opened slowly and George poked his head in. Hey, I
smiled. He smiled back, if not a wit wanly. Everything sorted out at the shop? He nodded and
rubbed his eyes.
As much as were going to get done tonight. They got the backroom, too. Its my birthday
tomorrow and Im not going to get myself worked up over it. Its over. For now anyway. George
crossed the room to my side and gave another sigh. I looked up at him with concerned eyes.
Are you sure, love? He nodded.
Whatre you doing? he asked, nodding down at my newspaper.
Looking for another job, remember? I replied slowly, peering at him over the top of the parch-
ment. He scowled.
Damn, Id hoped youd given up on that. I frowned. It was really bothering him.
George... In reply, he picked me up in his arms, moved me off the couch, stretched out himself
and then curled me against him, his chin resting on my shoulder. Comfortable? I smirked. I
looked in silence for a little longer and another ad caught my eye.

HERBOLOGIST WANTED - NO PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE NECESSARY

MUST HAVE PATIENCE AND HERBOLOGY EXPERIENCE
QUESTIONS? OWL HANNAH MCMILLIAN
OR INQUIRE AT DIAGON ALLEYS PLANTS-A-PLENTY

This one looks interesting, I mused, poking at the paper. George leaned forward a little and read
it. He studied me for a moment and then shrugged. Whats all that about? He shrugged again,
still frowning. Finally, he reached into his robes and pulled out a scrap of parchment.
Here, he said morosely. The perfect job. I picked up the paper with interest and read.

PARKER JACKALOPE PRACTICAL JOKE ENTERPRISES

EXPERIENCED MANAGER WANTED
SERIOUS INQUIRIES ONLY
APPLY AT DIAGON ALLEY LOCATION

Below the listing was an address. I looked up at George, who was still frowning.
Perfect, isnt it? he asked glumly. I giggled, took his face in my hands, and kissed him very
hard.
Why are you being such a Moaning Myrtle about this? George wiggled a little bit and wrapped
his arms around me.
Because Im greedy and awful and want you all to myself, he sighed. I giggling and gave him
another firm snog.
Well, Ive got something for you, I said. Actually, two things. I crawled over him and he raised
himself up on his elbows to look up at me.
What? he asked with interest. Without answering, I stood and went into the bedroom. I took
his birthday present out from under my bed and reentered the living room. Now George was sitting
up.
Your birthday present, silly, I answered. I handed him the small wrapped package and chewed
my lower lip. I really hoped hed like it.
72 H ARRY P OTTER

But my birthday isnt until tomorrow, he said with a confused smile, but took the small present
from my hand nevertheless.
I know, but we have the party tomorrow at the Burrow and I wanted to give it to you today, I
replied. I watched as he slowly unwrapped it and the shining pocketwatch came into view. His blue
eyes sparkled as he studied it and turned it over in his palm. His hands brushed over the button
and it popped open. I snickered into my hand when I saw that he jumped and almost dropped it.
He brought the pocketwatch very close to his face and peered inside.
Anya, this is so cool, he said slowly. I grinned and scooted closer, peering over his shoulder.
How did you get the little people to look like us? He saw it, too! But before I could answer, hed
turned it over, saw the date, and his eyes widened. This is over six hundred years old! Anya, where
did you get this? It must have cost a fortune!
That, my love, is my little secret, I said with a smile. I removed the pocketwatch from his hands
and set it on the side table. He looked sideways at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His
eyes watched me carefully as I slid my arms slowly around his neck. He raised an eyebrow.
So wheres this second gift youre going to give me? he asked, putting his arms around my
waist. I grinned and murmured the answer.
Youve got to unwrap it first.

Yes, yes, a very lewd ending, but what can I say? Im corrupted (*sends winks in Ebs direction*). Sorry about all the
fluff, but I couldnt help myself. The next chapter will be heavy and depressing and the final chapter of the story. Theres an
epilogue after that, though, which has been written for ages (read: two days) and will probably be rewritten sixteen zillion
times.
Huge thanks to my betas: Ebony (who is thoroughly enjoying England), John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady Christina, Virgo
(who wuvs me lots), JM Robin and Pippin (whose invaluable advice made this fic a worthwhile read). Also introducing Colin
and Sue! Remember to check out the HP Paradise list if you want to discuss or read the incoming chapters before (or after!)
theyre posted to ff.net. Thanks everyone!
Quidditch (No, Fred cheated on Angelina with Shelly, not Alicia. *panics* Lack of apostrophes and quotation marks?
But they were all there!), Amanita Lestrange (Eek! Pippin! *schnoogles* Thanks for all the kind words about my writing
and my character.), Joy (My, what a long review! Oh, yes! I was so worried about the G/A mush. Thank you for putting my
mind at ease. I went back and changed the analysis mistake thanks for letting me know! And it was the Sponge, and not
Crucio that made the Longbottoms go mad. The original diagnosis was incorrect. My mistake for being unclear.), Ali (LOL!
Do you really think Anya would be cheeky to Alicia? Nah, shes still far too polite for her own good. Maybe re: the sequel.
Im thinking about writing a story that takes place between TiP and PL...), AngieJ (DONT CALL HIM THAT! And no, Anya
didnt cry. *winkwink*), Juliette (LOL, thats Ebs nicknames for them! Well, it came up in an IM and I put it into context.
And yeah, deep down [way down], Freds a good guy.), Julius (Nevilles a cool character, isnt he? We get to see him in the
next chapter. Im glad the story stays Harry Potterish for you. J), Mr. Fred Weasley (TWIN! Yes, Fred is a nice boy and hes...
well... nifty, I guess.), gumdrop (Thank you! I was worried the boggart part came off as cheesy. Glad you liked it.), Sheryll
Townsend (3:30 AM reviews are the BEST!), Kris RL (*hands over a tissue* You going to be all right, love?), nosilla (Yeah,
just when Anya gets everything sorted out... <insert cackle here>), Moriel (I went back and fixed those two mistakes. Thank
you very much for pointing them out! *shuts ears in oven* Bad Jana!), *Ginny* (Im glad you like Anyas father so much.
Shes misses him a whole lot, you know. Ill try and add a few more references to him in there for you.), magical*little*me
(Pressure? PRESSUIRE?! *eye twitches*), Belle Malfoy (Thank you!), Colette (I like to think George and Anya like the way
I ended it, too...), Helmione Nightingranger (Thank you so much for the kind words on Anya. Shes definitely the OC Ive
put the most effort into ever and the payoff of feedback is quite rewarding.) Sweetfires (Brilliant? *flushes pink and tries
not to look too pleased with herself*), Miss Devonny (Get Jackalope from Americans Funniest Home Videos? Of course not!
Ive got a Jackalope farm in my backyard. *hums Bewitched theme*), Ashlie (Sealed the deal? LOL! Thats a new one. And
dont worry, this chapter is full of fluff.), kateroo (I could be evil and tell you no promises...), Ruth (They are rather cute,
arent they?), R.J. Anderson (*wipes spit from monitor* As far as the alcoholism goes, go back and read the parts about her
drinking wine to rid of the nightmares and her having a lot of wine at the Jackalope party. I was worried it was too subtle...),
* * Yesha * * (Hey, join the lazy club. George is wonderful, isnt he? *swoons*), Minzzer (I hope your computer is better!),
Hydy a.k.a. Serpentese (Yes, her disappearance should be adequately explained at the end of the next chapter), 007 (Ask
and ye shall receive! Hope you enjoyed it.), RayMai (The Wild Weasley Twins! LOL!), Annie Argo (Im hurrying, Im hurrying!
Oh, and yes, Angelina is very pregnant and will have her first child in the next chapter.), Stardust (Yeah!), Hallie Marie
(Another chapter and the epiloguebear with me!), DarkKnight (*turns very pink* Aw, shucks...), my buddy and beta, Colin
(Wow, six reviews! Oy, where do I begin? Lots of glomps and schnoogles in those reviews. I feel so loved! Hope you enjoyed
Dreamwalk BlueViolas a great writer.), Lisa (Thank you! And Ive posted the chapter for you, George and Anya. Is everyone
happy now?) and *Hermiron778* (Arent AuthorAlerts cool?).
P.S. Font changes for no apparent reason and huge spaces between paragraphs is ff.net weirdness and not intended on
my part. Sorry!
 C HAPTER E IGHT

Easier Not Knowing

I close my eyes,
And there in the shadows I see your light.
You come to me out of my dreams
Across the night.

Lara Fabian, For Always, A.I. Artificial Intelligence Soundtrack

George and I woke up very late the next morning, at the exact same moment, and in each others
arms. He smiled at me briefly, then tried to go back to sleep, but I shook him awake again once I
realized how late we were.
Doesnt matter. Its just my family, he muttered against my shoulder. I laughed and poked him
in the ribs until he opened his eyes.
Just your family? Just your family who will think ill of me if youre late for your own party,
I replied, looking at him and smiling. I brushed his floppy hair out of his eyes, wishing for the
hundredth time that he would get it cut, and I rested back against his arm.
They wont think ill of you. Youre practically part of the family anyway. He closed his eyes
again, but I didnt let him go back to sleep. Reluctantly, we rose and, after preparing a quick
breakfast, George warned me that everyone would know exactly why we were late.
Our first public appearance and were late, George snickered into his orange juice from my
bathroom door.
Public appearance? I said through a mouthful of toothpaste. I spat into the sink.
Yes... Im afraid my brothers wives are going to have a field day with you, George smirked. He
downed the rest of his drink and leaned against the doorframe.
They wont... be too bad... will they? George just laughed as he turned and walked back into
my kitchen.
Upon arrival (George and I were most certainly the last ones), I encountered more Weasleys in
one place then ever before. It was easy to tell the spouses from the blood Weasleys by their hair.
The main gathering was in the backyard, where tents were set up and children were racing after
each other on broomsticks that only flew a few feet off the ground.
Eight-year-old PJ Weasley was sitting by himself under a big maple tree, parchment spread
all around him. There were quills and pink ink everywhere. He didnt look as though he was
particularly working very hard, as he had more ink on his fingers and face than he did on the
parchment. PJ folded a section of the parchment in half and placed it on top of his head. I laughed
into my hand despite myself (I imagined I would make an awful mother), and Penelope, her mother
radar most likely sounding, swiftly crossed the backyard to scold her son.
So many people... I murmured. Shy Anya was creeping up on me again. Already I could pick
out Fred (who was rarely more than a foot away from Angelina at any given time), Charlie (who was
carrying his daughter, Elizabeth, on his shoulders), and Bill, who was strangely without his wife,
Fleur.
Bill was leaning casually against the gazebo rail, taking a healthy swig from a bottle of butterbeer.
My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, for Bill had never been much of a drinker, let alone
at family parties. I nudged George, and he followed my gaze. George winced a little and shook his
head.
He and Fleur have been having... problems, he explained. We intermingled with other guests.
George got more than a few nudges and winks, while I was about up to my nose in knowing looks.
74 H ARRY P OTTER

Our arrival wasnt as quiet as I would have liked, but I really hadnt expected it to be, as George
was an honored guest. Fred and Angelina had staked out a shaded area in the backyard and looked
caught up in such a romantic moment that everyone left them well enough alone. Around noon,
Charlie and Bill started up a game of Quidditch over at one end of the backyard while most of the
wives grouped together under the shade of the porch.
Im going to join that Quidditch game... come with me, love? George asked. I shook my head
slowly and looked over at the wives, most of whom I knew.
I think Ill go relax out of the sun for a little while. But Ill watch. He smiled and nodded. After
a glance around, we kissed and parted.
I inconspicuously took a seat between Liz and a nervous looking Ginny, who was tapping her
long fingernails on a napkin and chewing her lower lip. Liz smiled at me warmly, but Ginny didnt
even notice my presence.
Penny, Percys wife, was talking quickly, a sure sign that she was upset. Her voice rose as she
spoke. When two people are married, it is forever. Not until they get into little spats and disagree
onwhat was itwhether or not to go to a party? I sat back and blended into the background,
listening half-heartedly to Pennys rant on marriage, while looking over at the makeshift Quidditch
pitch. Bill was at Keeper, with the twins in the Beater positions. Charlie was playing, too, as a
Chaser, and Arthur was far above the pitch, looking down for the Snitch.
I smirked; Arthur would never be too old to do anything.
Dont you think, Anya? jarred me back to the conversation. But this time it was a slightly
less worried Ginny who was speaking.
Huh? Think what? Im sorry; I was watching... I said softly, and then trailed off as the smiles
around the table broadened. I sunk in my seat as they nodded knowingly at each other. Apparently,
good news traveled faster than Apparition.
Ginny had apparently given up on asking me whatever she was going to ask me when she leaned
forward and asked in a conspiratorial whisper, So how did it happen?
And when? Liz asked eagerly.
And for how long? Angelina (who I hadnt even seen join us) put in, sending everyone into gales
of laughter. I flushed pink. Well, that certainly was none of their business, I thought, suppressing
a yawn. We had been up late, hadnt we? I sputtered, not coming up with an intelligible, yet polite
enough word to express my distaste at the questions.
Well, Fred says Angelina began. I bent my head and hid my face with my hair. It really wasnt
an appropriate question to ask nor was it Angelinas business to tell them anything of our private
affairs. As usual, I said nothing. Let them have their fun. I listened to them speculate for a little
while, Penny looking extremely ruffled that her marriage rant had been interrupted and Ginnys
worry mounting once more.
I excused myself after a little while, resolving to take a quick walk in the forest behind the
Burrow. George was still quite involved in the Quidditch game and was trying everything he could
to knock his twin off his broom. Boys.
I started into the quiet forest, just barely alive with the sounds of singing wildlife. Far away, I
heard an Augurey cry and wondered if it was the same little friend Id encountered not so long ago.
I walked slowly along, listening to the sounds of the forest; the party din grew quieter with distance.
However, the cheerful noise did not give way to silence. Instead, its absence only revealed arguing
voices.
But you promised a dozen times that you would be here with me, a Weasley voice, not yet
identifiable, cut through the forest. I paused behind a tree, peeking into the clearing ahead. A
desperate Ron was standing face-to-face with an annoyed Hermione.
And I also have a responsibility to my patients, Ron, and you know theyre very important to
me, Hermione replied calmly, but not without a hint of frustration. Both of their robes were ruffled,
not to mention their hair, so it was easy to tell that they hadnt wandered into the forest to argue.
Arent I important to you, too, love? Ron asked. Hermiones features softened and she reached
up to touch Rons cheek.
You are important to me, Ron, but so is my work. Ill see you at home, honey. I promise Ill be
at the next Weasley function. She leaned forward and kissed him before he could protest, and then
Apparated away with a pop.
As long as shes happy... Ron said lamely to the spot where she had just been. He dropped his
chin and shuffled out of the clearing, back towards the party. I crept into the clearing after him and
frowned. If those two didnt learn how to prioritize and talk about whats going on rather than using
cheap guilt trips and last minute excuses, theyd have some real problems down the road. But on
the outside, to the rest of the world, theyd seemed so happy and perfect and...
 E ASIER N OT K NOWING 75

Well, facades could be misleading. I chastised myself for listening in on a private conversation
and started back. My short walk had taken longer than expected and I didnt fancy being pegged
as antisocial.
I turned to head back when I saw his face.
He was too quick for me to get away and all of a sudden, I found my back against a tree and my
windpipe getting crushed by a strong forearm. My fingers reached up to claw at him, but he leaned
close to my face and demanded, Quiet.
Snape, I hissed back, but only because thats all the oxygen I had to spare. I blanched at his
disgusting breath and tried hard to keep myself under control. Oh, Merlin, if I could only call out
for help...
So you think youre too good for me, do you, little miss Anya? he hissed in my ear. I tried to
kick him, but he had his entire body pressed up against mine. My eyes filled with desperate tears.
Aw, is the poor little flower going to cry? You know, the blonde one cried, too.
My world stopped. In that moment, the only things relevant were Snape and the words hed
just spoken. The blonde one... Shelly... Rochelle... Michelle... something wrong with the name... the
note... Rochelle... not Michelle...
Yes... Snapes eyes glittered dangerously. I saw more of his father in him now than ever. Yes,
you understand me. You understand the power I have over you, over your life... His arm loosened
a little and I sucked in a breath.
Shelly, I sobbed, gasping for air. The image of her face filled my mind and I found a rage within
myself I never thought possible. It was a rage that, alone, could not save my life. Snape laughed in
my face, not daunted by my attempt at escape.
I am getting more and more powerful within the organization... I daresay Ill be part of the Cabal
before the year is out, Snape continued, a maniacal grin across his face. Id never seen anyone
more excited in my life. However, my slip of the tongue in Knockturn Alleywhich you shall never
enter again, little girlprevents my superiors from resting peacefully at night. So I am afraid this is
the end for you. The world around me tilted crazily, and my chest burned, spots forming in front
of my eyes.
GET OFF HER! a voice roared and I found my windpipe clear again. I fell to my hands and
knees, gratefully sucking in mouthful after mouthful of blessed air. I cringed back against the tree,
my mind still alarmed and ready for another attack. I blinked a few times, clearing my vision, and
saw Snape sitting awkwardly up against a tree on the other side of the clearing. His eyes were
closed and a thick line of blood trailed from his temple across his face and over his eye.
I lay there for a few more moments, clinging to the grass. Shelly, Shelly, Im so sorry, I moaned
inwardly. I never should have believed that you would kill yourself. I miss you so much. I struggled
hard against the tearsId already done my share of grievingwhen I saw two other figures enter the
forest.
I scrambled up against the tree, panting hard. I didnt have any fight left in me...
Is that... Anya? the first figure came into view, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Harry Potter. I
started across the clearing at him, but walking proved too rigorous of an experience and I fell again.
The next things I felt were Harrys hands on my shoulders, and his voice telling me to breathe slowly
and keep my eyes closed.
Once I felt safe enough to walk again, Harry held my hand and helped me up. It was then that
I could identify the second person in the forest: Draco Malfoy. He was kneeling beside Snape, an
expression of pure disgust on his face. His eyes flicked up at me.
I thought you were Ginny, he drawled, by way of a greeting. He looked back down at Snape
for a moment and then stood. What does she know? he asked, as though I wasnt standing right
there. While I was looking at Draco, Harry had conjured a glass of water and handed it to me.
Here, drink. Itll make you feel better, he said. I felt two pairs of eyes on me as I thanked him
and drank it gratefully. It tasted funny, but I found myself not caring. Somewhere in the back of
my mind, I heard him asking me questions and listened to my own monotone replies. Words like
Shelly and power and Cabal stuck out in my mind. He smiled at me, almost pityingly, and
then touched his wand to my forehead.
I shook my head slowly, wondering why Draco and Harry were in the clearing with me just after
Ron had left. Had they seen him leave?
Summon Sirius. Hell know what to do, Harry muttered to Draco in a voice he thought I
wouldnt be able to hear. What did Harry want Sirius to do?
Draco nodded from where he was crouched. He was near a tree, fidgeting with something on the
ground. When I tried to get a closer look, Harry blocked my line of vision.
76 H ARRY P OTTER

You seem a little disoriented, Anya. How about I take you back to the party? Harry offered. I
nodded, still feeling a little dizzy, and let him walk me back through the forest and into the Weasley
backyard.
The Quidditch game was still in its prime when Harry and I returned. Even the wives and young
children had gathered around the makeshift pitch. As I saw him looking up at the players, I saw
his eyes blur for a moment as thought he was remembering a wonderful game. Before I could ask,
his eyes focused again, and he smiled at me.
Why didnt you ever try out for Quidditch? he asked.
Its too unorganized for me, I suppose. I dont think Id be very good at it. Harry looked sideways
at me for a moment before chuckling.
I suppose it does look disorganized from the ground, but I can assure you that a great deal of
planning and strategy go into each play, he said. I felt a little sheepish.
Well, I didnt mean to offend Harry laughed again, and I had a feeling he was trying too hard.
I frowned, studying him; he was certainly acting strangely.
No, not at all, he said. His smiled faded, and an awkward silence fell between us.
I shielded my eyes against the sun and looked up, searching for George. He was arguing with
Fred over something, but they were both laughing. George zoomed past me upside down, showing
off. I laughed and blew him a kiss as he soared upwards.
That reminds me; I hear congratulations are in order, Harry teased beside me, hiding a smirk.
I glowered at him.
Oh, honestly, were not getting married or anything, I said. He let the smile escape and I
wrinkled my nose at him. We spoke for a few more minutes, moving over to the other side of the
pitch where we didnt have to look at the sun.
WATCH OUT! someone shouted from the pitch. The voice sounded so desperate that I didnt
know who it was. Everything moving in slow motion, I looked over my shoulder and felt myself
being pulled to Harrys chest and my head covered with his hand. A dull thud sounded behind us.
He released me slowly and I pulled away, a touch indignant.
Is he all right?
Can you hear me?
Panicked voices were escalating while a group of Weasleys formed a clump near the edge of the
pitch. They were all hovering around something on the ground. Harry pushed his way to the center
and I followed slowly, intending on staying on the outskirts. Suddenly, Ginny untangled herself
from the mess of people and headed for me.
She looked at me in the eyes and put a hand on each of my shoulders, looking at me carefully.
Her face was far too serious for my liking.
Hes going to be fine; dont worry. The Bludger only hit his shoulder... Ginny said gravely. I
frowned, not understanding. I looked over her shoulder at Fred, who had jumped on a Bludger
and was wrestling it towards the chest where all the Quidditch balls were kept. Other than looking
mildly annoyed, Fred looked none worse for the wear. Harry doesnt think we need a mediwizard
or anything...
George, I gasped, finally comprehending. I tried to push past Ginny to get to him, but she held
onto me firmly.
No, hes fine, Ginny tried to say, but I wrenched away from her with more strength than I
thought I had in me. The crowd parted before me, just in time for me to see Bill helping George to
his feet. George was wincing, as Bill was careful not to let his younger brother tip over. George tried
to wave him off.
I ran to George and stopped just short of throwing my arms around him. The last thing he
needed was to be knocked off his feet.
Are you all right? I asked quickly. What happened? Oh, that Bludger must have been out of
control! Your shoulder
Anya, Im fine, George interrupted, finally freeing himself from Bill. He grinned a little painfully.
Better me than you, right, love? At my expression, he rested a hand on each of my shoulders. I
calmed slightly. Ginny fixed me up right quick. It takes more than a Bludger to keep me down.
He was still grinning, but I could tell he was clenching his teeth tightly.
Maybe you ought to I began, leading George toward the house, but was cut off by another
voice.
George! What were you thinking? Using real Bludgers! the ranting began. Merlins ghost,
there are children present and all you boys care about is your Quidditch...
Uh oh, George and I said in unison. We looked up to see Molly Weasley rushing towards
 E ASIER N OT K NOWING 77

us. Before either of us could say another word, Molly snatched George away from me, her rants
alternating between her anger at the admittance of a real Bludger into a casual game to her worry
over Georges poor ickle shoulder.
I followed them into the house and stood silently in the doorway as Molly fussed about the
kitchen, looking for her book on magical first aid. George gave me a lopsided smile over his mothers
head.
Mum, Im fine, George said. He swung his arm and shoulder for emphasis. Either the spells
that Ginny had done were kicking in, or he was getting better at masking his pain. No, really,
Mum, it didnt hit that hard... After a steely glare from his mother, he sighed and resigned himself
to one of the kitchen chairs.
I entered the kitchen calmly and plucked the book Molly had been looking for (Crafty Cures for
Magical Maladies by Markus Metheglin) from between Gilderoy Lockharts newest bestseller, Aging
With Grace, and Argus Filchs How To Discipline Troublemakers While Grudgingly Remaining Within
The Law. I tapped Molly on the shoulder and when she turned to face me, I handed her the book.
Oh, thank you, Anya! she said with a broad smile, taking the book from me gratefully. I didnt
think Id be too pretentious to diagnose her as manic-depressive, but I kept my thoughts to myself.
Molly crossed the room to Georges side, and flipped open the book. She skimmed through a few
pages and found her desired section. I watched Georges barely concealed exasperation mount as
she fired off spell after spell.
Mum, are you quite finished? George asked as she finally closed the book. He smiled wearily
up at me, and I couldnt help but return the smile.
You rest that arm; do you hear me? Molly said, pointing her wand threateningly in Georges
direction. George nodded patiently and his mother cast a glance in my direction before leaving.
Keep an eye on him, Anya. Leave him to his own devices and hell be out there playing Quidditch
as though nothing ever happened. Honestly, having boys is like... Her voice trailed off as she left
the room.
When I turned back to George, he was rolling his eyes.
Mothers, eh? he asked with a smirk. Cant live with them, cant lock them in a
George! His smile remained as broad as it had been before, and I wrinkled my nose at him.
You know you look just like a nervous Puffskien when you do that, George informed me. I
winkled my nose at him again for good measure, and he stood up from his chair. I watched him
cross to the kitchen window and glance outside.
PJ had better not be on that broomstick playing my position by time I get out there, George
said, half to himself.
You heard what your mother said, I chided, trying to look stern. I thought I was doing a good
job until he turned to smirk at me.
I have two ears that work perfectly fine, he said, leaning lazily against the sink, his elbows on
the counter. Damn, a wizard should not be allowed to stand like that when his witch was in the
room and she couldnt do anything about it because the wizards family was just outside. Bloody
hell, it just wasnt fair.
I went to stand before him and waited patiently, looking up into his eyes.
What? he whispered very quietly. It made me shiver. He shifted slightly and rose to his full
height, bringing his arms around me.
I suppose if your mother cant convince you to stop playing Quidditch, then Ill have to distract
you otherwise... I reached up and touched the side of his face. I was enjoying this little game of
seduction (in the brightly lit kitchen of Georges mothers house, no less).
That is an exceedingly excellent idea, Katie, he murmured.
I could tell by the way he stiffened that hed realized what hed said just a moment too late. I
stepped back out of his arms, looking wide-eyed up at him. This was too much. Id known it was
too good to be true, but it was too much.
Anya, I didnt he began.
Didnt what? I shot back angrily. Didnt just whisper your ex-girlfriends name? I can assure
you that you did. I turned on my heel, too furious and hurt to want to deal with him, and headed
for the door. George was right behind me.
Wait, let me explain...
Explain? Explain what? I demanded, turning to face him. I wanted to be selfish right then, to
cry and make him feel awful, but I couldnt bring myself to do it. Why now? Why after all this time?
Shes gone, George. I thought you would be over her. I watched him, wanting him to persuade me
out of my anger, but he stared right back at me. I cant change it. I cant bring her back. And most
78 H ARRY P OTTER

importantly, Im not her. Im sorry. That was the closest I came to bursting into tears.
I turned again, but his voice stopped me from stepping away.
How can I get over someone I murdered? he said in a voice full of tears, though I was sure
there were none on his face. I froze in place, mind spinning. Murder? George wasnt capable of
murder. It was a Sponge that killed Katie. Im not lying. I murdered her as sure as if I had cast
the Sponge myself. I was supposed to eat lunch with her that day. And because I wasnt there, she
went into her house alone.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldnt come. This whole thing was so unbelievable.
Why did you hide this from me? I finally asked softly, turning. As soon as I saw the look he got
in his eyes after those words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back.
Because I knew youd hate me! George exploded, stepping towards me so quickly that he
wobbled uncertainly for a moment. I stepped backward, away from him, and bumped into the wall.
I had an instant flash of Fred in the backroom of 3W. It was my fault she died. If I had gone out to
eat with her like I was supposed to, I
You could have what, George? I asked boldly, taking a step towards him. Been Sponged like
her? Listen to me; theres nothing you could have done. You cant change the past, I said firmly. I
lowered my voice a few levels. Theres nothing you could have done to save her, I whispered. His
blue eyes met mine very slowly, as though he was scared.
I dont know that for sure... all I know is that shes gone forever and its my fault, he murmured
in reply.
Thats dragonshit, George Weasley, and you know it! I shouted at him, losing my composure.
I could feel my blood boiling in my veins as I let go of his arms and clenched my fists at my sides.
You cant just mope around and play the martyr. Youve got to accept that you couldnt save her.
I couldnt save her because I wasnt there! And maybe if I had walked in first, she would have
figured out that it was a Sponge and gotten away! he shouted back, the rising color in his cheeks
making his freckles blend in with his reddened face.
Oh, so you think itd be better if you had just... just... gone and died and left me by myself?! I
shouted at him.
Thats not what I said, he told me, the warning tone evident in his voice.
But thats what you meant. You think that I dont need you
Maybe I dont need you either! he shot back, eyes narrowed sharply. The blood left my face,
and I took a step back. His eyes went wide. He reached out for me, but I flinched away from him.
His words pounded in my head: I dont need you...
Anya, wait. I didnt... Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes at him.
Dont touch me, I said lowly in a dangerous voice. I took another step back. Dont come
near me. My voice cracked on these words. He had been pretending, just like the others. Just like
Angelina had pretended to explain away Katie and Alicias taunts. Just like Mum and Dad promised
they would always been there for me. Just like Shelly said I could always turn to her for help.
I couldnt face him any longer. Those trusting eyes, that fiery hair, those soft lips, that familiar
face... Breathing erratically, I tried to Disapparate. My chest... my lungs were on fire. The sen-
sations of pain forced me to cry out and fall to my knees. My lungs felt like they were shrinking...
like they couldnt hold air any longer. It was as though someone had taken a vise and squeezed my
entire torso into it.
So this is what the Cruciatus Curse feels like, I thought somewhere in the back of my mind. A
hand on my shoulder... a voice... something like a spell... Anti-something... a whisper... Oh, no...
Then, blackness.

*****

Soft sound. A deep, familiar voice. Horrible ache in chest. Dull pain in the back of my head.
Can hear me, I need youAnya? I cracked my eyes open slightly, trying to focus on the voice
rather than the fact that every part of me hurt except for my hair and fingernails. Anya, can you
hear me? Do you see me? Georges blurry face was bent over mine and he looked as though the
Bloody Baron had just passed through him.
I nodded slightly and sharp pain tore through my throat. I reached my hand up automatically
and rested it on my neck, as though it would have some sort of medicinal effect. I moved my hand
slightly and brushed my fingers across the corner of my lips. They came away bloody.
As pale as the Grey Lady, George took my bloody fingers in his. I could feel his hand trembling
around mine.
I called for stretcher-bearers. They should be here any minute, he said softly, sweeping a lock
 E ASIER N OT K NOWING 79

of hair from my face with his free hand. I need you to keep your eyes open and look at me, okay?
I couldnt nod my head, because I was afraid it would hurt too much. He cradled my cheek with
his soft palm and whispered, I didnt mean what I said. I... I misunderstood what you said... and
I was just upset. What a horribly trivial matter to discuss at a time like this, I thought vaguely. His
next words sounded very far away as my vision blurred: Dont close your eyes, Anya. Please.
I did.

Were not done yet, ladies and gentlemen. Theres one more installment to go, in the form of an epilogue. Its already
written and sent to the betas. Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, or clicked on the link. You are loved dearly
and appreciated wholeheartedly. J
Thanks to my betas (Eb, Colin, Sue, Christina, Virgo, Pippin and special guest beta and awesome artist: Danielle a.k.a.
fleurelissa), as always, and to everyone whos been along with me on this wild ride. Thank you for your patience in getting
this last chapter out, as my real life made this story take a backseat. Im terribly sorry for the wait, and I hope this chapter
makes up one tiny piece towards making it up to anyone who has read the story.
 Epilogue

Tomorrows an illusion.
Yesterdays a dream.
Today is absolution.
But you gotta let her breathe.

Bliss, Not Quite Paradise

DAILY PROPHET3 APRIL 2004

POSSIBLE MURDER AT PARACELSUS?

AN EXCLUSIVE STORY BY RACHEL RATLIFFE

Sometimes, its the place you feel the safest that is actually the most dangerous. Death
was probably the last thing on Anya Parkers mind bright and early on the morning of April
first, but before the sun rose the next day, her life would be over.
Although the official Magical Medical Examiners report states that Parker died of compli-
cations due to the Respori Hex performed on her at 17, suspicious circumstances surround
her death.
Sources say Parker had been dating Weasley Wizard Wheezes entrepreneur George
Weasley secretly since their Hogwarts days. Recently, this information became public, as
several photos have verified. Was Anya Parkers death a crime of passion? Did George
Weasley indeed take the life of his childhood sweetheart?
A doctor at Paracelsus (name withheld) insists that the only visitor to Parkers room on
the night of the murder was George Weasley. Aura security shows him leaving several
minutes before the time of death. However, ten minutes are unaccounted for on the security
listing. Doctors at Paracelsus have refused to comment on the missing time.
Although the official Magical Medical Examiner, Ashlie Kauffman, has confirmed that
Anya Parkers cause of death was lingering effects of the Respori Hex, witnesses had seen
Kauffman and Parker shouting and crying at a murder scene just a month earlier.
Rochelle Walters, 26, was found dead by best friend Parker last month. Inside sources
report an emotional scene took place between Kauffman and Parker when medimagical
officials arrived on the scene to collect the body. Perhaps, then, Parkers death should not
be pinned on the lover. It is also possible that Kauffman, her authority undermined in front
of her colleagues, sought to quiet the source of the problem.
All that is certain is that Anya Parker, at the age of only 26, has moved on to the next
great adventure.
Rachel Ratliffe, Special Correspondent

*****

DAILY PROPHET3 APRIL 2004

OBITUARIES

Anya Maria Parker passed away late yesterday night due to lingering effects of a Respori
Hex. She is survived by no family, but leaves behind best friends George and Fred Weasley,
owners of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. Funeral is being at Circe Cemetery on Tuesday at
three oclock.
 E PILOGUE 81

*****
DAILY PROPHET6 APRIL 2004

LOST & FOUND

Black and white tabby found near corner of Siegel and Sapphire in Hogsmeade. Has ID tag
reading Stevie. Mews late at night. Looking for owner. Contact Beth Wagner via owl to
describe fully and identify.

*****
Learned one thing the hard way. I cant get out of this place by myself. I can hang on like lintI can believe in miraclesbut I
cant keep life going by myself. Right? Somebody out there has to keep believing, too, and searching for me.
I cant help you do thatits up to you, like Zack said.
Unless my believing keeps you believing.

Ouida Sebestyen, The Girl in the Box

They put a typewriter in here with me. I dont know why. Theres lots of
paper. Maybe they want me to write something for them. I was given no
instructions. Ill go mad. I cant stand the sound of my own voice, trying to
keep me sane, so Ill type my thoughts.
This typewriter is old. Its a Muggle contraption, but even they use computers
now. Daddy used to have a typewriter like this around the house. I miss him
and
Had a crying spell. Couldnt finish my sentence. Sorry. Seems as though its
all I do here. I just want to go home. I just want to be able to have George
hold me again. I want to take JBelle out for ice cream again. I even want
Fred to yell at me for something. I would give anything in the world to be the
object of Alicias taunts.
I dont know how long Ive been here. No human contact. I wake up every
morning and find food and water. In a strange sort of way, Im grateful. I
mean, I could be left to starve here. But Ive got food, water, a place to
sleep, and a bathroom. Thats a lot more than many people have.
So I guess Im grateful.
But I still want to go home so I can
Went on another crying jag. Had to go to the bathroom and get a tissue and wipe
my tears away. Wish George was here to do it for me. Fingers are steady again
now. Cant believe Ive not yet made a spelling error. Not bad. Never been
much of a typist. But I swear if they let me out of here, Ill type faster than
anyone in the world and thats a promise.
The light through the window (too high for me to see through) is fading. It
must be late. Left watch back at the hospital so I dont know what time it is.
When I was little, Daddy always told me it would be bedtime when the shadows in
the front living room were bigger than me. We had an old statue of a mermaid
(Mummy hated it, but Daddy loved it--never knew why until I was older) in front
of the window. I would always wish to grow so I could stay up later.
If I had Daddy here to tuck me in, I wouldnt mind going to bed early.
Cant hold myself together much longer. Theres only so much a twenty-six year
old can do, right? Ive realized that Im not grown up all the way yet. Part
of me is still a kid. The part of me that takes for granted that the sun will
rise tomorrow and Ill be able to walk out of my back door and see the Mokes
crawling up and down my trees. The naive child inside me believes that.
Im just afraid a tired old woman is taking her place.
NO. I wont let it happen. This place will not break me. I had three weeks
alone--away from almost everyone--after my Treatment. I was okay. I cant have
been here more than a few days. Maybe a week. Maybe two. Maybe a year.
82 H ARRY P OTTER

No, thats not true either. What kept me alive those weeks is that if things
got too hard, I could go to someone. The option was there.
Going to sleep now.

Michael did it the cowards way. Kidnapping me, I mean. How brave of him to
wait until I was alone in my room at night and sneak in. What valor it must
have taken to Petrify me and replace my body with some poor Polyjuiced victim.
How manly it was for him to wait until Hermione came in to check on me and all I
could do, draped in his Invisibility Cloak, was try to cry. And I couldnt even
do that.
The worst part of all was watching as the doctors shot spells and injected me
with potions. They were trying so hard but the person
the one who Michael
the one lying in my place in the bed was dead before the doctors even came in.
But they tried anyway. They tried.
No, watching the doctors try wasnt the worst part. Waiting until the room was
empty, watching "my" body get covered with a blanket and watching helplessly as
the body was levitated out wasnt the worst part.
Being dragged into the hall by Michael and seeing George sitting in a chair
with his head down was the worst part. His head was down between his knees and
his fingers were clasped around his neck. He was all by himself. He looked
so little in the chair. He wasnt moving very much, but his shoulders were
shaking. I think he was crying.
It was in the mens bathroom. The Portkey, I mean. I think it was the faucet
of one of the sinks, but I dont know. Its hard to see through tears.

I miss my garden. There are more important things, like people, that I miss
more fiercely and more often, but I miss my garden, too. It was a nice place to
sit and get away from the world. Flowers dont fight with you and bushes dont
have meetings and trees cant be busy. But my garden was so pretty and vivid
and this room is very bland. No color. I wish I had blue eyes or blonde hair
so I could at least look in the bathroom mirror and remember what color is.
I remember watching my mum garden when I was about 5. I could never figure out
what was so neat about getting all dirty. I was a lazy child--I just wanted
the damn flowers. But as I grew over, I discovered the fun of mud and ended up
enjoying gardening.
When I got into magical flowers, I thought Id found a career. They grow
quickly and have amazing qualities. I even did better in Potions because I
understood what the ingredients did. Severus Snape was not a horrible man.
Just a confused one. There were rumors that he was a Death Eater. I knew they
were true because his sleeve had accidentally revealed the Dark Mark during
class. I pretended to be sick so I could leave the room.
Start with gardening and end up with Snape. Odd. My thoughts are so abstract,
so strange. Nothing seems organized. Its like having scattered parchment on
my desk and not being able to find the right one. Like when George says hes
trying to find something in the way I organize my files and he
Its painful to talk about George. No, not painful. Thats not the right
word. Hard, maybe. But at the same time its easy. It keeps me Anya Parker
and reminds me that someone out there loves me and will be there when I get out.
Because I will get out.
Right?

Day Three of the Amazing Adventures of Anya. Ha. Alliteration. Fun. As

morbid as it sounds, its the most exciting thing thats happened to me. Im
numb to it now, so I can talk about it objectively. I overheard Angelina
telling someone once that shed like to write a mystery novel some day. I think
 E PILOGUE 83

she was telling Katie. Im not sure. But Angelina wants to write a mystery
novel. But if she ever wants to know what its like to be captive somewhere
and not know if youll see another day or your loved ones ever again, well,
Hades, Ill tell her all about it. Or maybe theyll find me dead and find these
papers. If someones reading this, give it to Angelina. She can use it for
research or something.
Again with the morbidity. Have my thoughts always been this terrible? Maybe
they just seem more terrible now because theyre typed out on paper. In my
head, its just
Im going to type about something happier. Something like... my first kiss.
When I was in fifth year, I was dating a boy named Justin Finch-Fletchley.
He was a third year at the time. Or maybe a fourth year, but anyway, he was
a Hufflepuff: quiet sometimes and loud at others. He told me he spent two
weeks working up the courage to talk to me in the library. I was flattered, of
course, because no one really gave me that sort of attention.
I could tell right off that he was jealous of the friendship between George and
me. I could also tell that George was getting buggered at me spending Hogsmeade
weekends with Justin. I met Justin in the astronomy tower one night (It was the
first and only time Id ever sneaked out past hours with anyone other than the
twins). We kissed under the stars. So I got my first kiss a little late. But
it was worth it.
George and I had a blazing row over something--I dont even remember what--the
day Justin and I broke up. I cried myself to sleep that night, feeling as
though my life couldnt get any worse. But then Albus Dumbledore showed up at
my dormitory door and summoned me down into the common room. When I got down
there, he told me
Crying jag. Big surprise, right?
Professor Dumbledore told me that my mum had been
She was
Shed passed away because of Death Eaters. Dad had come home from work and she
was sitting in the living room chair, eyes closed. Dad thought she was asleep,
but then he shook her and she wouldnt wake up and Dumbledore said it must have
been the Killing Curse.
I miss my mummy. I remember crying and Dumbledore trying to console me. I
remember looking up and seeing George at the top of the boys dormitory stairs
in his Bludger-adorned pajamas, looking very confused. He came down and held me
and I heard the professor explain what happened to my mum to George. My heart
never hurt so much. I wanted to be happy, as George held me all that night, my
best friend wasnt mad at me anymore. But Id lost my mother and any happiness
in the next few months was completely and totally vanquished.
I went home to Dad the next morning. He looked so old and it seemed as though
Id been away ages. We cried together, the last two in a family of what were
once four. Michael, you were off at your damn Auror thing--Merlin, I dont even
remember--but you never came home.
Thats your fault, Michael. Your stole yourself and mum away from me. I hope
you go to hell.

I woke up this morning with a strange compulsion to let out all of my secrets.
I mean, no one is ever going to hear them or read this, so I might as well type
it, right? Makes sense to me, but then thats not saying much.
Fred and Angelinas wedding: I wasnt really invited, per se, but George didnt
have a date and didnt want to go alone. So he asked me and I went with him.
George had sent me to go make sure that Alicia had Freds ring. Id been so
scared of her, from her malicious teasing back in school, that Id asked very
quietly. She (drunk as a woozy house-elf) had told me that everything was just
perfect and then I left.
84 H ARRY P OTTER

I hadnt gotten more than two steps outside the door before the laughter
started. I sank against the wall and to the floor, my heart hurting. I never
knew what I did wrong to make them hate me so. I heard their voices through the
wall and will never forget their words.
Alicia said, "How pathetic. Girls, have you ever heard of a witch whos afraid
of her own shadow?"
I had never been afraid of my own shadow. Daddy had been proud of me when I
gave up my night light in my room. He said I gave it up sooner than Michael
did. Darkness, especially when created by my own blocking of the light, had
never frightened me.
Angelina said, "She is rather pitiful, isnt she? Im surprised that George
invited her as his date."
Its not as though I asked to be invited to the damn wedding, Angelina. I would
have stayed home; I WANTED to stay home, but George wanted me to get out of
the house. It was mere weeks earlier, three weeks and two days, that my father
had passed away. I wanted to stay home and grieve on my own, rather than watch
other people become so happy. It was selfish of me to feel that way, but I had
such a dark hole in my heart my father had once filled and could never be filled
again that I didnt think happiness was possible without him.
Alicia replied with: "Couldnt do any better, most likely. After all, she is
always hanging around him, mooning over him. Even when Katie was alive, she had
no respect for their relationship... she had better be glad it was Katie and
not me, for I would have put her in her place."
I had never meant to hurt George or Katie or anything. I just wanted my best
friend to stay in my life. I tried to counsel him after he and Katie got into
rows and have him see the other side. Although it seemed so misguided from
Katie and Alicias points of view, all Id really wanted to do was help. But,
selfish though it was, I will never deny the fact that I was afraid of losing
him to her.
But now, at the end, havent I lost him? Will he go on without me? What a
silly question. Of course he will. But will he still feel as whole? Or will
he have that missing hole in his heart?
But eavesdropping wasnt my secret. The secret was that I lied to George. I
told him I had fallen down the stairs and felt out of sorts. He had Harry take
me home. Id never lied to George before, not about something big like this. I
cant think of a time he refused to be there for me when I needed someone. His
twin was getting married and I was most certainly not going to make him choose
between consoling my pathetic feelings and watching his brother tie the knot.
I never thought I was worthy of terribly much. I remember reading one of my
fathers old, dusty plays, in which a character said, "I counted myself so
plain, so poorly-made, that no honest love could ever come to me!" Perhaps that
best summed things up. My parents spoiled me with love, but it didnt make me
a brat. For some reason--perhaps it was seeing the little bits of Michaels
jealousy that I had Dad wrapped around my little finger--I always felt I had to
work to keep their love. And I always did have that love. The thing is, so did
Michael.
How did we turn out so different?

He killed Mum. I didnt remember him telling me until now, but its clear as
crystal inside my head now. I had to have been blocking it out. He told me
every detail, about how he had come home with the pretense that he was returning
from Auror training. Mum was home alone, and Michael said it was easy. When
Daddy found Mum, it was already too late. I want to kill Michael. I will kill
him the first chance I get, or die trying. I didnt think I would have it in
me until I started screaming at the empty room last night. I screamed horrible
things at Michael until my throat hurt and then I collapsed and cried myself to
sleep on the cold floor. I will kill Michael, and then I will die.
 E PILOGUE 85

Fell in the bathroom and hit my head really hard this morning. Woke up in my
own blood. Was worried I had something really bad happen to me. I tried to
sleep, just a short kip, but woke up, calling for Neville.
"Neville, make me better," Id cried. He hadnt come.
Do you hear me, Michael? This place will not break me. It has no right. I
dont care that youre my brother. If youre under the Imperius Curse and what
youre doing is not your choice, than youre a weak man. Just a weak, sorry
excuse that had no right to be born to Mum and Dad. What was it that Mum always
said? "Its easy to find something worth living for, but the tough thing to
find is something worth dying for." Or maybe its the other way around.
Dont know. Cant think right anymore. Head hurts too much.
Youre not my brother, Michael. We may have had the same parents, but the
Weasleys made themselves my brothers after you left me and Daddy. Daddy always
thought it was because you couldnt stand to live without Mum. When you killed
Mum, you killed Dad, too. You hardly saw him after her death. He was a mere
shadow of the man he once was. Sure, he held himself together for me, but hed
all but lost the will to live. And without anything to hold onto, it killed me.
Dont you remember the times we went into the forest behind our house and built
the fort? I remember Daddy helping us and Mummy being so proud. Remember when
I fell out of the tree and broke my leg? You carried me all the way home and
Mum healed me with her wand. Its the first time I can remember our mum using
magic in the house.
But I guess youve forgotten all of that, Michael. You dont love me and you
never did. Im your SISTER, God damn it. And you tore me from my life and put
me in this hellhole.
I didnt mean what I said earlier. About being under Imperius. If youre under
Imperius, it makes you more of a victim than me. I like to think you are, as
sadistic as it sounds, because it means you still love me. But it also means
you have to do these horrible things to me against your will. You have to watch
helplessly. Michael, I wish I could help you.
The thing is that everyone on the outside thinks Im dead. Theyre not looking
for me. They think they have my body right there. Theyve all given up on me.
Someone has to be out there, believing.
I know George. If there hadnt been a body, he wouldnt rest until hed found
me.
He thinks Im dead like the rest of them, though.
George is hurting and its my fault. I know I couldnt possibly know what was
going to happen, but Ive got to blame someone. Not Michael. Blaming Death
Eaters and the Cabalistica would be too impersonal. Not specific enough.
So Im funneling all of my blame into myself. Not healthy, I know. Ill
schedule an appointment with Dr. Macmillian as soon as I get out of this place.
I miss George like a constant stomachache. I miss his touch. It always made
me calmer. Things werent as scary when he was holding my hand. He was the
perfect mix of caring for me and needing to be cared for. I miss his voice.
This isnt fucking FAIR! Now Im rambling so I think Ill go take a nap. My
head hurts a lot, but at least it stopped bleeding. "A plus in anyones book,"
like George says. I miss him.
But maybe this is it. Maybe I wont wake up tomorrow. That cant be so bad.
It wont hurt anyone more. Itll stop whatever the Cabalistica wants to use me
for. My death will help people.
Im such a martyr.
Im going to go to bed and dream of Georges touch and Shellys meddling and
Freds shouts and Alicias taunts and everything else that makes me feel like
Anya Parker. Im afraid Im going to lose myself, just as everyone else has
lost me.
86 H ARRY P OTTER

But maybe I will wake up and Georges face will be there, telling me Im so
silly for sleeping so late and then hed take me into his arms and hold me
because Id probably be crying because I was so grateful it was only a dream and
hed kiss my tears away and ask whats wrong, but I wouldnt be able to speak
because I would be crying too hard and then Id kiss him until we were both
breathless and then wed do other things, but I wont type them because Im a
good girl.
Maybe.

Took my nap. Visions getting pretty blurry. Im not sure Im hitting the
right keys. Im seeing two of everything. My head still hurts, but so does
the rest of me. My heart, too. Not a physical thing, though. Or maybe it is.
Hard to tell.
Had a good dream. No pain in dreams. George was in it. Very soft. Love
his touch. So stupid of us to wait so long. Can almost hear his voice now.
Rooms getting kind of dim. Think the doors opening. Theyre going to take my
typewriter away. Need to stay here. Wont let them. Moving my cot. Saying
something about me. About blood and my head. Tell them to leave me alone,
George. Want George here to take care of me. Wont let them etl, they gonna
fwr nw no qibr kwr rgwn he is comin vsmy bye

The end.

Dedicated to everyone whos lost someone.