Iuga Sortis (Bound By Destiny)

Fifteen

Fred Apparated into the dark attic, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Angelina's owl had been frantic, and he was terrified.

"Angel? Angel, where are you?"

"Lumos."

A soft blue light radiated from his left, and he walked toward it, lighting his own wand as he went. He saw her there, the light reflecting off the tear tracks on her dark cheeks.

"Angel, what's wrong?" he asked, as he crouched down before her. He placed his hands on her cheeks, his thumbs catching the tears as they fell. Angelina closed her eyes.

"They lied to me, Fred . . . all this time, all my life has been one great big lie," she sobbed.

Fred frowned in confusion. "Angel, what are you talking about?"

"I have a sister."

Silence.

"What? You're an only child!"

Angelina snorted. "Actually I'm not, and I haven't been for the past twelve years."

"This makes no sense! How can you have a sister? When will you meet her? Are you going to meet her?"

She snorted again. "I have met her. She's Nia."

Silence.

"Your cousin!"

"Well, she's still my cousin. My father got my mother's cousin pregnant, and all three lied about it," she said bitterly.

Fred plopped down onto his behind, absorbing what Angelina was telling him. "Your father cheated on your mother with her cousin! That's bloody awful!"

Angelina's face crumpled again. "I thought they were so in love! They almost rivaled your parents, always holding each other and kissing and saying 'I love you.' I can't believe how they lied to me! I can't believe I used to think of Malika like a second mother! She's nothing but a home wrecker! A man-stealing whore! It's a wonder she was ever in Gryffindor!"

Fred had never seen Angelina so distraught before, and his heart ached terribly. "Sweet Angel, surely you don't mean that," he began, but Angelina nodded.

"The hell I don't! I mean it, Fred! You know, Lee was right; Nia deserves to be in Slytherin! Any child of a whore belongs in that House!" she spat. Her eyes widened at that declaration, and she broke down in sobs. Fred quickly went to her side and gathered her into his arms.

"Let it all out, love. I'm here for you, Angel," Fred cooed into her braids.

Angelina grabbed his robes, and she cried body-wracking sobs. "I didn't mean it, Fred, I didn't."

"I know, love, I know."

"You should've seen Nia when she came downstairs and confronted my parents. She was unnaturally calm when she asked them to confirm what she'd read. When they did, she walked back upstairs. Now she won't talk to anyone--not even me. She's afraid I hate her! I don't hate her, Fred," she sniffled.

"I know you don't, Angel." He kissed the top of her head then adjusted to kiss her forehead.

"Mum was crying when Dad gave Nia the letters--it was two days before Christmas. She said something about 'think we're doing something right.' She knew, she knew! And she still stayed with my father. Something is very peculiar about that, don't you think?"

"Angelina, how could you not know? You're older than Nia by six years," Fred asked, confused.

"Cousin Malika said she needed to move back to the States to take care of Aunt Jamilah, but I guess she needed to have her child in secret," Angelina said, calming from her crying episode. "I cried like a baby when she left. She was my best friend, took care of me when my parents were away."

"Did she have a 'father' before this?" he asked.

"I don't know. I never saw a man around when I went to visit."

He sighed and squeezed her tighter. "Angel, I think they didn't tell you two for a very good reason. There was the Order, you know. Was Malika in it as well?"

"I don't know; I never asked . . ." she trailed off, sitting straighter.

"Maybe you should. That could have something to do with it."

"That still does not change the fact they lied to me. How do I go about trusting them again?" Angelina asked, falling against his chest.

"I don't know, love, I don't know . . ."

They sat together in silence, Fred continuously running his palm over her braids.

He snorted. "And I thought my family problems were bad."

"Oh yeah, did Percy stop by to see your father?"

"No. The git even returned Mum's jumper. If I never see him again, it will be too soon."

"I know Percy's being a prick, but you can't mean that. Family is important, and sooner or later Percy will realize that your parents are doing the right thing. He's a Ministry rat right now; he knows no better," she reasoned.

"Like you said: family is important. If he can't abide by our beliefs and our stance, he's just as good as--"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Frederick Weasley! I don't want you to even say it, because if it comes to pass, you'll be kicking yourself. So don't. Be upset, be angry, but don't wish ill to your brother."

He exhaled deeply. "Fine, Angel. But I do wish someone would pull the stick out of his arse. It's even farther up there than Hermione's!" he tried to joke.

"That's an awful thing to say!"

"I suppose. At least Ron got Hermione's out, if you catch my drift," he said with a smirk.

Angelina sat up quickly. "They didn't!"

"They did. Apparently she kissed him first," Fred said, grinning. "She's always been downright bossy, that one."

"Lord knows how Weasleys hate to be bossed around," she said dryly.

He lifted an eyebrow. "I don't know about that, Angel. Most of the women we Weasleys fall for have a bit of a bossy streak in them. Look at my mum. She's probably the bossiest woman I know, yet she's also the best mother we and wife Dad could've ever asked for."

"Really now? I distinctly remember you saying last year, 'Someone please commit me to St. Mungo's if I ever marry a woman as bossy as my mum!' So clearly this does not apply to you."

He grinned. "That's where you're wrong, Angel; it does apply to me."

Angelina snorted. "How do you figure that?"

Fred smiled softly, cupping her cheek in his palm. "I love you, don't I?"

Angelina's eyes went wide, and her breath caught. "Co--come again?"

"Such naughty thoughts, Angel."

She gasped and slapped his arm. "I thought no such thing!"

Fred laughed, his other hand cupping her cheek. "Now, now, don't be shy. I'm Fred, remember? You never have to be shy with me."

"I also know you're a prankster, Fred. You're just saying that to be nice because of my troubles. You may love me, but only as a friend."

She moved her face from his hands, and he sighed. "I know that it's hard for you to believe; I rarely have a serious conversation with anyone, but one day you will. I'll see to that." He moved his hand to grasp her jaw, moving her face back to his. There was the distant sound of a clock ringing twelve tones.

It was midnight.

As if in a trance, he moved closer to her, slowly enough that she could pull away if she wanted. He smiled when he realized she wouldn't, and his lips pressed against hers softly. It was a tender kiss, not nearly as passionate as he would've liked, but he realized she was not ready for that. He broke away, nuzzling her nose with his as he did. She looked at him with those large brown eyes shining with tears. He prayed they were happy tears.

"Happy New Year, my Angel," he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~

He felt something was wrong when she didn't say anything to him when they met each other. He knew something was wrong when she didn't say anything to Snape.

Draco was determined to find out what it was. He'd been waiting all week to get a chance to speak with her, and he finally had it. She was in the common room, bent heavily over books as her quill moved rapidly and purposefully. He strode to her with confidence, knowing that once this conversation was over, she'd be her old self again.

"What's wrong with you, Little One? Didn't get what you wanted for Christmas?"

She did not say anything to him.

"Seriously, Nia. I'm worried about you . . ."

"Imagine that, Malfoy worried about someone other than himself."

Draco couldn't help but jerk at the venom in her voice. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know exactly what I mean by that. I see how you treat other people, especially Potter and his friends. You're a regular punk."

"What? What the hell does that have to do with you right now?"

"I just don't want to talk to you or anyone associated with Slytherin right now. Perhaps they were right--this House is associated with evil and the devil. And in that case, so is Gryffindor. I hate this house, and I hate them!"

Draco instinctively knew she'd stopped taking about him and Slytherins. "What happened over break, Nia? What happened?"

"I just really don't want to talk about it. Please leave me alone, Draco."

He felt a little better when she called him by his given name.

"Perhaps you should go to Snape . . ."

She gave a bitter laugh. "That is absolutely the last person I want to see right now."

He frowned. "But he's your fa--"

"Shut up, Malfoy! Just shut up!"

"You're being rash, Nia! What is wrong?"

"I need to leave. I can't handle this right now," she said, collecting her things and leaving for her dorm room. Draco growled and sighed. He was no closer to finding out the truth now than he was before he talked with her, though he did find it odd she didn't want to talk to Snape. They were close, and for her to refuse speaking with Snape left a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.

"Trouble in paradise, I see."

Draco rolled his eyes at the sound of the voice.

"What do you want, Parkinson?'

"I'm hurt, Drakkie. There was a time you'd call me Pansy."

"I think you slipped me some poison, then . . ."

"Oh bah! I don't like you anymore, so stop worrying."

Draco didn't realize he'd tensed until he felt his body relax.

"Well, the question remains the same--what do you want?"

"To help, so to speak. I know she means a lot to you, and I'd like to help you out."

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. "Right. How much is this going to cost me?"

"How dare you insinuate I'd require payment?"

"You are a Slytherin, and you are a Parkinson. Those two go hand in hand with blackmail."

She huffed and shooed the words away with her hand. "How can you think so ill of me, Draco, especially when you were right along with me when I did those things?"

"I'm a Malfoy; I can say whatever the hell I want."

"Doesn't make it true . . ."

"With the right amount money, anything can be made true."

"But seeing as your father and not you has the money, you really can't say much of anything at all."

Draco scowled. All she was serving to do was make his dark mood grow even fouler.

"What the hell do you want, Parkinson?"

"If I get Roberts to talk, you owe me a Hogsmeade date."

"I thought you said you didn't like me anymore . . ."

"And why does everything have to be about you?"

"I'm a god, of course."

Pansy huffed again and glared at him. "Look, I was the one who talked to Nia when you and she had that falling out. It won't seem nearly as odd as you're making it out to be."

"But I'll bet you got something out of that--you spent a lot of time with Goyle . . . oh!"

Pansy blushed. "Don't even think it, Draco!"

Draco couldn't help it; he gave a hearty guffaw that drew the attention of everyone in the common room. Pansy turned pinker from embarrassment and anger.

"Oh, that's rich! You two bicker more than the Mudblood and the Weasel!"

"So?"

"So . . . I didn't think he was your type. You go for the pretty boys. Why don't you want to date Blaise?"

"Him? He's more in love with his mirror than anything else."

"Sounds like you two are a match made in heaven, then ."

"Very funny, Draco. I'm not as shallow as I used to be."

"Getting a centimeter more depth does not a profound person make."

"Ooh, you can be such an arse at times!"

"I thought you rather liked my arse . . . I heard you and Millicent talking about it not too long ago in fact."

"Forget this! I don't need you insulting me when I'm trying to help you."

"As long as there's something in it for you."

"I'm a Slytherin! What did you expect?"

"So is Nia; she's not like that."

"She's a fluke, then."

"I thought you were her friend. She at least considers you so . . ."

"That was her mistake."

Draco chuckled evilly. "Another reason why you and Goyle wouldn't work--Nia is Goyle's friend and vice versa. You mess with her, you mess with him. I wouldn't fancy being at the end of his fist coming full force towards me . . ."

With one final glare and huff, Pansy stalked away from him.

"Stank heffa."

Draco whirled in his seat.

"Nia! You're back!"

"Oh, I was back around the time Pansy admitted to liking Goyle. Poor boy."

"I'll say. I wouldn't wish that on Potter! Then again . . ."

She merely shrugged and went towards him.

He followed her progress with his eyes. "Ready to talk now?"

"Nope. I just came to get something I forgot."

"Are you ever going to tell me what's wrong?"

"I wouldn't hold my breath."

She was by him then, as she looked for whatever it was she lost.

"Ah! Got it!" she exclaimed, putting the folded piece of paper in one of her robe pockets. She made to leave.

"Wait!"

She hesitated. "For what?"

"I'm sorry about Parkinson."

"What for? She's not your responsibility. Besides I think it's 'Lie to Nia' year. She's not the first, nor will she be the last."

"You're so bitter for one so young."

"Bitterness knows no age."

"Neither does wisdom, I see."

"Whatever, I'm tired. I just need to be alone." She started to walk away, but his hand stayed her.

"What do you want now?"

He didn't say anything as he pulled her into a hug. She was very stiff at first, but the constant movement of his palm on her back made her pliant against him. Her arms moved around him reluctantly as she gave in to the embrace.

"I won't lie to you, Little One," he promised. "You mean too much to me to do that to you. I'm here, okay? If you ever need to talk." The words were foreign even to his ears, but he realized he never said anything more sincere.

She squeezed him tight for a second before breaking the hug. "Thank you, Draco, but I really need to sort this all out on my own. I appreciate it. Goodnight."

He watched her leave with her shoulders slumped and eyes to the floor. He felt a violent sense of anger then; whoever had lied to her would pay dearly for taking his friend away from him.