Iuga Sortis II

Sixteen

Fred sat in the living room on the humble two-story house, very nervously rubbing his sweating palms against his trousers in a continuous motion.

The formidable man before him wasn't helping to ease his nerves, either.

Caleb Johnson was an imposing figure, well over six feet tall and the build of a rather large Beater.

But instead he was a top Auror.

Ruddy great!

Fred licked his lips and swallowed.

"You're usually more talkative than this, Son. Why are you so quiet?" Caleb's deep voice asked. It was as if the house rumbled from the sound, and Fred quaked in fear.

"Nothing to say, Sir."

Caleb chuckled. "Nothing to say, or nothing to say to me?"

Fred briefly wondered if there was a difference.

"I get the feeling this is a special night for you . . . is it?"

Fred exhaled a long, shallow breath. Today, besides being New Year's Eve, was the anniversary of when he first said he loved her. He might be a prankster and silly most of the time, but when it came to Angelina, he was romantic and serious. The past six months had been nothing short of perfect. Not perfect in that they didn't have arguments or squabbles, but perfect in that it was Angelina as his partner.

Today was a day to reaffirm that fact.

"I just want tonight to be perfect, Sir."

Caleb frowned. "You're not planning on proposing to her."

Fred was sure what little color he had left his face. "Sir?" he squeaked.

Caleb gave him an appraising look before he chuckled again. "I'm just pulling your leg."

"Excuse me, Sir?"

Caleb waved his hand dismissively. "I'm just remembering when I first met my father-in-law, though I know this is not our first meeting. He said that to me, and I was just as confused as you are. I might be Muggle-born, but I am still British. Those Americans have some peculiar slang terms."

Fred nodded, though he still didn't know what the term meant. Caleb sensed his confusion.

"I'm just giving you a hard time, Son. You should be glad. It means I like you."

If this is him liking me, I would sure hate to be the unfortunate bloke Mr. Johnson doesn't like!

"How did you and Mrs. Johnson meet?" Fred asked. The silence was too oppressive, and he figured a talking Caleb Johnson was better than a silently-planning-your-death Caleb Johnson.

Or at least that was what a silent Mr. Johnson seemed to be.

A faint smile graced Caleb's face, and it made him seem less imposing, approachable even. "Church."

"Church?"

"Yes, church, or more accurately a church social. My father had a poker night every Wednesday, and one of his poker buddies invited him to church. The bloke was an American, Daniel Roberts, but he told me to call him Uncle Danny. He was a loud man, and his accent was so peculiar to me, but I liked it. He was always singing and such, especially when he had a good hand. He'd sing 'good news, the chariot's comin'!' and when he sang that, everyone knew he had a good hand. Drove my father nutters, but I enjoyed it."

Fred laughed at the scene. It sounded like something he or George would do.

"Anyway my father accepted and made my mother and me go because I'd get to meet kids my age. Besides I knew Uncle Danny and his wife had a child--a girl who was a year younger than I. I was ten years old at the time, so girls still had cooties. I went to this social, kicking and screaming the entire way, and my mother threatened to take my James Brown records if I made another sound."

"Who is that?"

"The Godfather of Soul? Oh Fred, Fred, Fred, we're going to have to have a listening party now! A man should never go through life without knowing a James Brown tune."

"Yes, Sir!"

Caleb laughed and continued. "So we went to this party, and there were women gossiping and boys playing and girls looking at the boys playing in contempt--everything I knew it to be. There was one girl in particular who looked really put out."

"Angelina's mum?"

Caleb nodded. "Angelina's mum. Never had I seen a girl look so prissy in her yellow dress with white Mary Janesand pigtails with yellow ribbons. She hung onto her mother like a lifeline. I knew immediately she would be a horror."

"Was she?"

Caleb looked at him as if Fred had grown another head. "Was she? Oh my dear Lord, the woman thought she was nine going on twenty-nine! She was the bossiest thing I'd ever met! The first thing she said when she looked at me was, 'Your legs are ashy.' Keep in mind I didn't know what in Hades 'ashy' meant, so I said, 'Yours are too.' She looked so smug and said, 'Nuh-uh! My mama put cocoa butter on me!' I was so mad I could spit. I spent the rest of that afternoon avoiding her."

"I know where Angelina gets her spunk from!"

"She said you needed cocoa butter recently?" Caleb teased.

Fred felt the tips of his ears go red. "No, but during the summer she makes me use 100 SPF sun block; I turn the color of a nicely steamed lobster in the sun."

"Why not use a charm?"

Fred shrugged. "She claims the Muggle stuff is better. After seven, now eight, years of knowing Angel, I've realized arguing with her will lead to nothing but heartache."

"I think it's a trait Roberts' women are born with. Nia's the same way."

Fred didn't know how to respond to that, so he only nodded.

"Anyway, back to my story. It seems that Ellie's mother was a Seer, even though she couldn't be because she's Muggle, for she predicted, during that very exchange of utter contempt, we were going to fall in love and get married."

Fred's eyes widened. "She didn't!"

Caleb leaned his elbows on his thighs. "She did. And I told her she was daft!"

"To her face?"

Caleb nodded and laughed. "My mother was so angry at me! She did take my records away after that, and then I was forced to apologize to Ellie and her mum."

"That's awful!"

"My contempt swelled into hatred. Ellie and I didn't say a nice word to each other for years."

"Clearly that epidemic changed."

A lecherous grin formed on Caleb's face. "It most definitely did. Right around the time something else changed, if you get my meaning . . ."

Fred's grinned matched Caleb. "I think I follow."

"Oh lad, what a difference four years make! I'd just returned from Hogwarts after my third year, and I was fourteen years old. Uncle Danny was still coming over for poker night, but it seemed now he was bringing a guest."

"Mrs. Johnson," Fred said with a grin.

"Apparently Mum was getting lonely in the house now that I was away and invited Ellie to come and spend some time with her. They came by on Wednesday, as usual, but it was the first time I'd seen Ellie in a year. I didn't open the door, Dad did that, but when I came down the stairs, my jaw dropped to the floor."

"That must've been a sight!"

Caleb laughed again. "Was it ever! Ellie smirked at me and said, 'You look better that way,' and walked around me to say hello to my mum. It was then I knew I was in love."

"If that was true, why did it take you two more years to wake up?"

Both men jumped at the voice and turned towards the stairs. There stood the two Johnson women, both beautiful in their own right. Elle Johnson was a petite woman whose skin was the color of cocoa, and her hair was cut cropped to her head. She was dressed in gray sweats and green socks.

Even then, elegant was the only word to describe her.

"Like mother, like daughter," Fred mused aloud as his gaze moved to Angelina. She was wearing a spaghetti strapped shift dress the color of red wine which complemented her nut-brown skin nicely. Her braided hair was piled high on her head in order to showcase her pearl earrings. A simple string of pearls hung around her neck.

She was breathtaking.

Angelina smiled shyly at him. "Do I look all right, Fred?"

Does she look all right? What kind of daft question is that?!

"His mouth is hanging open just like it did when your father 'claims' to have fallen in love with me. It's a safe bet to say you look fine," Elle said as they walked down the rest of the stairs. She came and touched her fingers to Fred's chin to pull up his jaw. "And I'd appreciate you not drooling on the carpet, Mr. Weasley . . . I just cleaned it yesterday."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Johnson." He felt his cheeks turn bright red.

"Mother! Now is not the time!"

Elle sighed. "It's bad enough he does it in my restaurant. Must he do it in my house, as well?"

He felt more nervous with Mrs. Johnson than with Mr. Johnson, and Fred's heart rate increased ten fold.

"Mother, behave."

"He knows I'm kidding; don't you, Fred?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, ma'am!"

His eyes still hadn't left Angelina.

"Take a picture, Fred; it lasts longer," Mr. Johnson said good-naturedly.

Angelina shook her head and walked up to Fred. It was her movement that snapped him out of his trance, and he stood. The heels almost brought her height to match his.

That didn't matter; he still wanted to hold her and protect her always.

"Fred?"

She bit her lip in apprehension, lips the same color as her dress.

"Do you know how incredibly gorgeous you are?" he asked her seriously.

She ducked her head. "Fred!"

He shook his head and lifted her face with a finger under her chin. "I mean it, Angel. You're so very lovely."

A throat was cleared, and the pair looked up to see a cuddling, yet very amused, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.

"Are you just going to stand in my living room all night, or will you actually go to dinner?"

Angelina rolled her eyes, and Fred blushed again.

"Bye, Mum, Dad. He'll have me home at a reasonable hour."

Caleb chuckled shortly. "I know he will, or I'll find a couple of Aurors to come after you two!"

Fred didn't doubt that for a minute.

The four of them walked to the door, and Fred helped Angelina into her overcoat. He pointed his wand and performed a Warming Charm on it to make it retain heat better and longer.

"Thank you, Fred."

"No problem, love."

Fred put on his own overcoat as Angelina stepped outside.

"Happy New Year, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson."

"You, too, Son. Tell Molly and Arthur the same for me."

"Will do, Mr. Johnson."

Fred shut the door behind him and stood on the porch, watching Angelina. She stood there with her arms wrapped around her and stared at the sky. He grinned to himself and walked to her, wrapping his arms around her. She sighed contentedly.

"What's on your mind, love?"

"At the moment? You."

"Pleasant thoughts, I hope," he said as he kissed her temple.

"Hmmm."

He smiled and walked beside her, holding her hand in his. "Are you sure you want to Apparate there?"

She nodded. "I don't feel like driving through Muggle London on New Year's Eve, Fred. People will be so pissed they won't realize we've done it."

He chuckled. "You have a point there, love. Besides, we're almost late for our reservation, and for once it isn't my fault."

She grinned at him. "It takes time for me to get beautiful, Fred."

He scoffed at that. "Baby, you were born beautiful. Everything else is just accessory."

Angelina went on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "You say the sweetest things, love."

"And the best part is they're all true."

Angelina laughed and drew her wand. "Ready to go?"

He nodded, and they Apparated into Muggle London close to where their restaurant was. It was a quaint little Italian restaurant they happened upon on a lunch date. They didn't need a reservation then because the restaurant didn't really begin to pick up until after four. As it was, reservations were a hard thing to come by for this restaurant, for it was known for its romantic atmosphere, excellent culinary dishes, and reasonably priced menu.

"Did you have to Apparate us to the alley behind the restaurant? My bleedin' mouth is salivating already!" Fred asked good-naturedly.

"It was salivating before we left my house, Fred."

He grinned at her. "Perhaps it's because I'm hungry for something else." He nipped at her neck, and she giggled.

"It's bad to eat your dessert before dinner, love."

"Blast dinner, then!" His mouth moved up her neck to her jaw, and Angelina sighed even as she broke away from him. "Aw! C'mon, Angel!"

She stopped walking and turned to him. "Fred, you insisted on this dinner date; now I'll be damned if I get all girly and have no dinner to show for it. We're going."

He'd stopped listening after she said his name. She really was lovely.

He walked to her with a grin. "I've changed my mind. I feel like gloating a bit."

Angelina frowned. "What? You've never given in so easily! You don't have any of your products on you, do you?"

Fred laughed at her skepticism. "No, love, I'm clean. I just want to go in there and show you off; let everyone know you're my woman!"

She glared at him. "So I'm a trophy now, is that it?"

Whoa! Talk about irrational!

"NO! I mean, I'm proud that you chose me, love--"

"So why do you want to 'show me off,' as you put it?"

Fred knew he was in trouble when she jutted her hips and placed her hands on them.

He opened his mouth then closed it. Whatever he said could make or break this night, and he'd be damned if he began the New Year with an incensed Angelina.

"You're right, love. It was a totally sexist and insensitive thing for me to say. The entire purpose of this date is to commemorate the first time I told you I loved you and the New Year. I would be honored if you accompany me into the restaurant."

She frowned before she began to laugh. Fred was frozen in fear for he didn't know if it was a good laugh or a bad laugh.

"Fred, come here," she said in-between giggles. Fred walked up to her hesitantly until they were two feet apart. She grinned at him and looped her arms around his neck. His hands went to her waist automatically, and her grin widened.

"I love you."

Some of the tension he was feeling eased, and he smiled. "I love you, too."

"For some reason, I am nervous."

His face fell. "Why?"

She didn't answer him right away. Instead she moved one of her hands from his neck and trailed a finger along his cheek, as if tracing the freckles she found there.

"I love you," she repeated.

Now he was nervous. "Angelina?"

She wrapped her arms around him again and put her face to his neck. "I love you so much, Fred."

Nervousness changed to fear. "You are scaring me, love."

"I'm scared myself! I just have this awful feeling something bad is going to happen to someone I love."

"But that doesn't mean it's going to be me . . ."

"But what if it is you!? I couldn't bear it--"

Fred had pulled away and placed a tender finger on her lips. "Who am I, love?"

"You're Fred."

He gave a half-smile. "Exactly. And as you know, I am a Weasley and a Gryffindor."

"The perfect recipe for someone to go into danger head first," she deadpanned.

He chuckled slightly. "That may be, but we're also the people who win, and we find our way back to our family. It may take some longer than others, but we'll find our way back to the people we love."

"But don't you see? I don't want you to leave in the first place!"

He kissed her forehead. "I'd never leave you willingly, love. You should know that by now."

"I do."

"Then you trust me?"

She nodded.

"Then trust me when I say I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

She nodded again.

"Good." He kissed her temple. "Do you still want to go inside?"

She nodded, and they walked to the front door. As the hostess checked for their reservations, he grinned down at her.

"You do realize once we go in there, I'll be forced to gloat."

She raised an amused eyebrow at him. "Only if I can gloat, too."

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

Happy indeed.

She'd never felt so alone in all her life, despite being surrounded by friends. She missed Draco and wished he were with her at the moment. Ron and Hermione were sharing small little kisses to bring in 1997, and Harry was staring at the portrait hole for some reason.

"Happy New Year, Harry," she said quietly.

He turned and smiled at her. "Happy New Year, Ginny."

"C'mon, you two! You can't bring in the New Year without a kiss!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione and Ginny shot him a deathly glare, and Harry blushed.

"What if my foot 'kissed' your arse, would that do?" Ginny muttered.

"Ginny! It's a tradition!" Ron whined.

"I should've never let Dobby bring those butterbeersup here," Hermione chastised herself.

"If I'm drunk, Hermione, it's not because of the butterbeers. You do things to me, woman!"

Hermione blushed prettily, and Ginny chuckled. Ron was good; she'd give that to her brother.

"So how about it, Gin? A kiss for the New Year?"

She arched an eyebrow at Harry. "Foot or lips?"

"Lips, if you please."

She hesitated for a bit before complying, giving him a small kiss on the cheek.

She was about to move away when his hand grasped her neck. "I've seen Sirius."

She sucked in a wild breath of surprise and pulled back sharply.

"So it was him!"

He looked at her pointedly. "Yes. He mentioned he saw you in the mirror. Why didn't you say anything? That happened months ago!"

She felt regret and indignation. "I wasn't very well going to get your hopes up had I been wrong! You didn't deserve that! I saw your face when he didn't answer, and I couldn't bear to see that face again!"

They stared at each other for a few moments before Harry sighed in resignation. "I know, Gin. I'm sorry. I guess I'm sore because I grieved for him for eight months when I didn't have to do so."

"I understand."

Harry seemed indecisive. "I'm going to see him. Want to come?"

She frowned and glanced back at Ron and Hermione. "Aren't you going to ask them to come?"

He glanced at them briefly before turning his attention to her again. "No. Not yet. Sirius doesn't want too many people knowing that he's here. In fact, he really didn't want me to know, but I kind of cornered Nia into letting me know . . ."

"Nia? What does she have to do with any of this?"

"Remember when you told me to follow her?" Ginny nodded. "I did, and we went to the Potions classroom. He'd been in the dungeons the entire time."

"As Snuffles, I'll bet," Ginny said.

"Right. He barked, and I think he knew I was there. Since Snape wasn't, he figured it was okay to see me."

"That was Christmas morning . . . speaking of which, I haven't seen Snape since. I wonder if he is okay."

Harry gave her a weird look. "Since when did you care about Snape?"

She shrugged. "Since I had that dream, since Nia and he have been having problems, since I know he's a double agent."

"But in that dream--"

"Yes. I know what I saw. He didn't want to do that, Harry. I'd never seen such despair in a man's eyes than when I looked into them in my dream."

She knew Harry wasn't so quick to forgive, so she changed the subject. "Are we going or not? And if we are, how do we do this without getting the lovebirds to follow?"

"We tell them we need to speak to Professor Roberts about our extra lessons. They'll leave us alone then."

Ginny shrugged. That seemed believable enough.

"Oi! Ron and Hermione! Ginny and I have to see Professor Roberts about our extra lessons!"

Ron raised his head from Hermione's neck and smirked at him. "Sure you do, mate."

Both teens blushed, and the couple chuckled.

"Ron!"

"Leave them alone, Ron. If they have 'extra lessons,' who are we to doubt? You know I'm all for extra credit."

Ron growled appreciatively. "Oh, you're a saucy woman, Hermione."

She grinned and kissed him. "And I'm yours, too."

"Even better."

Ginny rolled her eyes and stuck her finger in her mouth. Harry laughed and led her out the portrait hole.

"How can you stand it, Harry?" she asked as they went down the stairs.

He shrugged. "I'm good at ignoring them."

"Well, kudos to you."

"Though I'll admit something."

"What's that?"

"I'm not nearly as immune to you and Malfoy. Do you still like that git? Even after . . ."

Ginny sighed. She didn't know what to think or what to feel about him. One reason she could forgive Snape was because he had changed, and it was so obvious he loved Niathat Ginny couldn't do anything but forgive. Besides, Snape was a Death Eater and had proven his worth to the Order on numerous occasions--even if he was a bit surly.

Draco, on the other hand, had a less clearly defined side in this impending war, and it made him dangerous. Despite being the reincarnate of Osiris, he was still Draco Malfoy first, and Draco Malfoy desperately wanted to please his father--even if it meant doing things he didn't necessarily want to do.

Like become a Death Eater.

Ginny shivered at the prospect. How could she find it in her heart to love a Death Eater, even if it was Draco Malfoy? These were the people who followed Voldemort, people who believed in the purity of blood at all costs and who would kill and torture those who weren't or didn't without a moment's hesitation.

But even in the dream, Draco hesitated; he seemed remorseful.

But he still did it.

She had to remind herself it was a dream--a horrific one at that. That scenario hadn't happened . . . yet, but could she condemn Draco for something that never happened or might not?

No. That would be unfair.

She was suddenly filled with the desperate need to see Draco, to remind herself he was the same insufferable spoiled brat who took her heart.

"Gin?"

She started at the sound of her name. "What?"

"You never did answer my question--not verbally anyway."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He chuckled shortly. "You still like the tosser."

"Don't call him that," she said with a scowl.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Even after that dream, you're still defending the wanker."

Her scowl deepened. "It was a dream--"

"Which could very well turn into reality."

"Like hell it will! I wouldn't fall in love with a bloke who would do something like that to me!"

The declaration bounced off the stone walls of the dungeon, and her eyes widened in horror. She hadn't even realized they'd got here, so engrossed in her thoughts, she was.

Harry's lips pursed into a thin line. "Now that we know where you stand, guess there isn't any hope for me, is there?"

"Harry . . ."

He held up a hand to stop her. "Save it, Gin. You love the bloody wanker. Who am I?"

"A very good friend."

He snorted. "A very good friend who'd love the chance to be a fantastic boyfriend."

A smile tugged her lips. "A bit full of ourselves, are we?"

"Of the truth? Absolutely."

She rolled her eyes and began walking again. "Right, Harry."

Suddenly she felt a hand on her arm, and she was whirled around so her back was against the wall. A very intense Harry loomed over her.

Her heart began to beat faster.

"Harry? What are you doing?"

"Just one little kiss, Ginny. Just one."

"What?" She tried to move away, but he was too big.

"Just one kiss," he repeated.

She sighed and began to fidget. "I already gave you one--"

"That little thing? Are you kidding me? I want a real one."

"What's got into you?" she asked, her temper rising.

His eyes flitted over her face before locking on hers again. "C'mon, Gin. I need this. For my sake. I need to know if your feelings for the ferret are real."

She shoved him away from her in anger. "You great, big, bloody prat! I cannot believe your gall! Who bloody gives a wank if you believe my feelings are real? Because I sure as hell don't! I cannot believe this." She stormed off in the opposite direction only to have Harry spin her around again.

"Harr--"

Her first thought was his lips were cold, nothing like the warm feeling of Draco's lips. It was absolutely the most horrific kiss she'd ever received. Even Neville's clumsy attempt had more feeling than this did.

It was like kissing a rock, or worse, her brother.

"So . . . this is what happens when I go away . . ."

"Oh!" She shoved Harry away hard, and his back slapped against the wall.

Snape, Nia, Sirius, and Draco were all in the corridor staring at the couple. Draco's face was blank as he stared at her.

"Draco! It's not what you--"

Draco put a finger to his lips and shook his head. "Shhh." Draco turned to Snape and nodded. "I think I will do that research project we talked about, Professor."

Snape's lip curled in disgust at Harry and Ginny before he replied. "Meet me in my office tomorrow morning. We will go over the necessary details then."

Draco nodded and, with a final empty stare at Ginny, walked down the corridor, stopping next to a suit of armor. The wall vanished, and he walked through it.

She mouthed his name, too overcome with grief to find her voice.

"I am experiencing a severe case of déjà vu at the moment; aren't you, Black?" The Potions Master sneered at them one last time before he pivoted quickly and walked back into his classroom. Ginny looked at the younger girl plaintively.

"Nia . . ."

She stared at her, at Harry, hurt clearly on her face. "Well, Happy New Year to you." Nia chuckled hollowly and followed in the direction Draco went.

"Sirius . . ." Harry began.

The older man shook his head sadly. "I can't help you with this, Harry; I'm sorry." Sirius went in the classroom as well and closed the door behind him, leaving the pair alone in the hallway. Harry looked remorseful.

"Gin, I--"

"Not a word, Potter. Not one damn word."

Ginny was hacked off; never did she think Harry would blatantly disrespect her wishes as he did.

"I didn't mean--"

"Shut. UP! Don't you dare compound this problem by lying to me! Did you see his face, Harry? Did you? Bad enough you have to beat him at everything, but to do this was just beyond sick!"

"But what he did to you was okay?" he snarled.

Ginny was so upset she could scream. "He hasn't done anything, Harry! Nothing but be the best boyfriend I could've ever asked for! What did you think you'd gain from that kiss?"

"I wanted to prove I was better for you."

She laughed sardonically. "Well, congratulations! You just proved the bloody opposite! Never have I felt such disgust for another human being than I do right now!"

"Gin, that's not fair!"

She looked at him with incredulity. "Are you bleeding off your rocker? Of course that's fair! I don't know where you got this sense of entitlement, but you better get rid of it and quick. I don't like you anymore, Harry! Not romantically and, at the moment, not platonically either. Not only did you hurt me and Draco, you hurt Nia too."

"Why would it matter to her?" he asked, but his voice was flimsy.

Ginny chuckled evilly. "Oh, you bloody know. You only deny it."

"Ginny, she's thirteen years old."

"Yes, she is, but that doesn't mean she can't have feelings for you, Harry. That doesn't mean you can't have feelings for her. Sure, it may not be the best time to act on them, but to blatantly disregard them is--ugh! I can't even look at you right now!"

She spun on her heel and began to walk back to the main corridor. She was whirled again, but this time she used her momentum to spin him to the wall.

"Touch me again without my permission, and I swear to Merlin, Potter, you will regret it."

His green eyes mirrored his regret. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I really am."

Ginny closed her eyes as she felt the sting of her tears. She knew he meant it but was too angry and sad to care.

"You know what? So am I."

She pushed away from him and continued her progress to the corridor. It wasn't until she reached the sixth landing she finally let herself cry.