Rating:: R
House:: Schnoogle
Genres:: Romance Mystery
Era:: Children of Characters in the HP novels
Spoilers:: Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Half-Blood Prince
Stats:: Published: 05/16/2002

Updated: 05/23/2003

Words: 42,814

Chapters: 12

Hits: 5,532

Magique l'Element

finite incantatem

Story Summary:: The offspring of Fred and George are at Hogwarts, creating some mischief of their own. But things are not as they seem, and sometimes, mischief can lead to danger.

Chapter 04

Chapter Summary:: The offspring of Fred and George are at Hogwarts, creating some mischief of their own. But things are not as they seem, and sometimes, mischief can lead to danger.

Posted:: 06/22/2002

Hits:: 398

Author's Note:: Finally, a new chapter! I'd like to thank all those who reviewed, and would like to send out some hugs to Erin and Cadey. I'd also like to send a couple of waves in the direction of Diana and Cookie. Thanks guys!

Chapter 4-Answering Questions

"If you asked me to be your girlfriend."

Rain searched anxiously for a reply. She was taken aback by her own words, surprised that she had had the gall to actually say that out loud. But Devon didn't bat an eyelash. He looked like he was expecting this-or at least some sort of response similar to it.

"Well, I really wanted it to be more romantic than the conventional argument, but yes, I suppose I am asking you to be my girlfriend," he said in a casual tone.

At this, Rain caught her breath. Was he serious? Was he really asking her to-but Devon seemed to note the confusion going on inside her brain, for he said rather quickly, "You don't have to dive me your answer now. I just thought I'd let you know that I want to start a deeper type of relationship with you."

Is he nervous? But Devon's never nervous...

"Two days," she whispered. "I'll give you my answer on Sunday afternoon."

"I know I'm known for my impatience, but you don't have to-"

"This isn't just about you, Devon. Don't you think I want this as well? Damnit, you've been haunting my thoughts ever since last term! Just-just give me time to sort out my thoughts," she ended, looking down.

Slowly, Devon nodded. Then, he kissed her again-softly this time.

"Happy Birthday."

And with that, he walked away.

Rain watched as he disappeared, as though melting into the shadows of the corridor. She pulled off the cloak he had given her, touching her cheek to the soft fabric. She realized suddenly that she had neglected to ask him a very important question: Why?

He was every inch a Malfoy. Being the first heir of Draco Malfoy gave him undoubted wealth, popularity among his housemates, and even good looks. Devon was a Prefect, and captain of the Slytherin House Quidditch team. He grew up being taught to hate the Weasley name, as it was almost second nature to her to be aloof and try to ignore any Malfoy that would cross her path.

What he was asking of her defied all of those unspoken rules of war that the generations before them had set, and she had to think thoroughly about it.

~*~

Skye Weasley sat alone in the Gryffindor common room, staring at the portrait hole entrance. Ever since that afternoon, Rain had been very peeved at him. After all, she had a good reason to be this time.

He had headed to the dungeons directly after his Transfiguration class, as the Gryffindor team had a scheduled practice. Skye usually fetched Rain during days like these, preferring to exchange news with her on the way to the pitch. Rain was used to this particular display of brotherly protectiveness-or so he had thought. The moment Skye had yelled "BOO!" the hallways were filled with another sound-the sound of something breaking.

According to her other classmates, Rain had received some sort of gift during Potions. It was obviously very breakable and fragile, as well as treasured by his cousin (in the short span of time that it had been solid, of course). He had suggested that she use Reparo on it, but she just glared at him and snapped that as a Prefect, it was her duty to follow the rules and set an example-and that meant no magic in the corridors.

Well, at least she liked my present.

Skye smiled at the thought-then frowned again.

She'll probably pitch it at my head the moment she sees me.

She wasn't back yet. Rain had left Gryffindor Tower at eleven o' clock, claiming that she needed to do something important, and hadn't returned. It was nearing midnight now. Not that Skye was overly worried-Rain could get around Hogwarts very well in the dark-but he'd have an easier time getting to sleep knowing that she was safe in her bed as well.

The portrait hole opened, and Rain stepped in, carrying something dark red in her arms. Skye stood and strode towards her.

"Where've you been then, eh? It's midnight. You've been gone a whole hour."

Rain didn't seem to hear him.

"Oi, Earth to Airen," he said, waving a hand in front of her face.

"Skye, sit down, and stop waving your hand in front of my nose like a bloody dolt. I need to talk to you."

Wow, she isn't mad at me anymore-is she?

Skye sat on a chair near the fire. Rain sat on its arm, a contemplative and removed look in her eye, as though she was doing some very deep thinking. He waited for her to speak-which she did, after a long pause.

"I'm still mad at you. Take note of that. However, I have bigger things on my mind. Tell me what your opinion of Devon Malfoy is," she said, voice soft, yet still bossy.

He raised a brow.

"Malfoy? Why d'you ask?"

"Grant my request and I'll answer your inquiry."

The older Weasley frowned thoughtfully, putting his chin on Rain's lap.

"Let's see, then. Malfoy is...generally arrogant and unbearable. He can be very nasty and impatient. He's a condescending, asking-to-be-hit-in-the-gob sort of smarmy git that will very well take advantage of any situation that he's in, milking it for all it's worth in any way that favors him. Oh, and did I mention that he's bloody rich and spoiled? Rather conceited too..."

He knew that he was asking to be hit, but he was only giving her an honest answer. Rain had held Devon in high esteem-even before he'd saved her life.

"Yet you said he was okay," was the only thing she said in reply.

"Well I didn't exactly say he wasn't, did I? I just told you the qualities he tends to show whenever he's having a particularly good time torturing other people. Aside from all that, he can be okay, I suppose. He's decent to you, at least."

"Why wouldn't he be 'decent' to me?"

"Rain, you're a Gryffindor, and a Weasley to boot. Isn't that reason enough?"

"No, it's not. What about Aunt Calla and Uncle Fred, eh?"

"Mum wasn't a bloody Malfoy, Airen."

Skye looked up to catch the expression on his favorite cousin's face. It was unreadable, and altogether a tinge creepy.

"Alright, why are you asking me all this, then? I told you my opinion of Malfoy, now you tell me why you want to know."

Rain tilted her head to the side, evidently contemplating her answer to this. Then, she handed him the bundle of cloth in her arms.

"He gave this to me tonight."

Skye took it from her, unfolding it.

"This thing is looks expensive, Rain. Why did he say he gave it?"

At this, Rain smacked him on the arm with a resounding, stinging slap.

"It's my bloody birthday, you huge idiot!"

"Oh, right."

He held it up, taking in the intricate details of the cloak. It had elaborate black fastenings, and delicate-looking embroidery near the shoulders. Skye shook his head.

"What did you do to Malfoy, eh?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since last year, Rain, you've been very friendly with Malfoy. I know he saved your life, and I'm grateful for that too, but-"

"Skye, what do you care? Really. Why do you persist on nosing into my private affairs? What is it to you if I'm being chummy with a Malfoy?" she spoke in the same detached voice.

"The simple reason is because he's a sodding Malfoy!"

"You don't understand," she said, standing and taking her cloak from him.

"What don't I understand? Oi, come back here, will you? Rain!"

But Rain was already mounting the stairs to her dormitory with a very thoughtful sort of frown on her face. She hadn't raised her voice at him - which was very peculiar. They often argued in extremely loud voices that usually shook the dust from the ceilings.

There's something happening here, and I'm not sure I like it.

~*~

"George! Owl!" yelled Fred from Gred and Forge's interior offices.

George turned to his customer, a middle-aged lady who he'd been trying to convince that their pranks did not have any fatal side-effects.

"Believe me, your son will love this. The counter's over there," he said with a charming smile.

The woman in front of him smiled back, and collected the item she was to purchase, heading towards the counter. George let out a breath of relief.

I thought she'd never buy it.

He went to the back rooms, entering the office he and Fred shared. His twin was at the desk, frowning over a piece of parchment.

"What are you working on?" he asked.

"Just poring over the list of ingredients Calla gave me. That woman is invaluable to our work, you know."

"Tell me about it."

Calla was a Potions expert, and also had very extensive knowledge on certain herbs and plants. Over the years, she had given the twins several cheap alternatives for more expensive ingredients they needed for their pranks.

"Where's the owl then?"

Fred pointed to the perch near the window, where a small grey owl stood, blinking at them.

"Hullo there, boy. Delivering a letter for me, eh?"

The owl gave a hoot to answer. George untied the letter from his leg, and sat down to read it.

"Who's it from?" asked Fred.

"My daughter. Who else?"

"Dad-

Somebody asked me to be his girlfriend. What should I do? I know you're always rolling your eyes at the mention of me going out with somebody and you're oddly happy about it, but I don't know if you'll still be happy when you've found out who it is.

Tell me your answer as soon as possible.

-Rain"

Thoughtfully, George reached for a quill and a fresh piece of parchment.

"Short note?"

"Shorter than usual, yes. I believe my daughter wants to pursue something aside from her academic interests."

"Meaning-she's getting a boyfriend or something?" muttered Fred distractedly.

"You know what? I think so."

At this, Fred finally looked up from the ingredients list. He was frowning.

"And you're okay with all of this? I thought you were rather protective of your only heir, George."

"Oh, I am. Just not in the conventional way. She's grown up, you know, or rather, she's trying to."

"You do know who she's rumored to be seeing, don't you? Skye said something about Malfoy's son, George."

"MALFOY'S SON?!"

George narrowed his eyes, thinking hard. Then, he dipped his quill into a bottle of ink and began writing.

~*~

Rain sighed. She couldn't study-not now. Her mind was to preoccupied to open any text. Two pieces of parchment lay on her lap, both crumpled as though they'd been read and reread a lot of times. One of them was from her father. It read:

"Love-

My sources tell me that this boy you're talking about is the son of the git your Aunt Hermione smacked years ago for calling Hagrid pathetic. I expect he's the same one you sent that mysterious package to last summer?

I'm not mad, though I'm not overly joyous at the fact that you want to see someone, but I trust you. If you think this bloke is alright, then...I guess I'll just have to trust you on that one. I've known you to be a pretty good judge of character, my darling. All I want is your word that he isn't anything like his father-for reasons I'm sure you already know. If you're happy, Rain, I won't say anything against it.

Love,
-Dad"

It was his reply to the note she had sent him this morning. The other piece of parchment was slightly older-it was her Aunt Calla's letter, written a few days ago.

"Dear Rain,

You've so many questions that I don't know where to start. The most pressing matter seems to be your inquiry about the Malfoy mind. Well, it's not easy. Malfoys, as you probably know, have perfected the technique of shelving untimely emotions and art of looking impassive. They also tend to be rather...mysterious in dealing with other people, especially ones they hold in high esteem.

Devon Malfoy's kissed you, eh? Congratulations. I think it would be safe to assume that he likes you, given all those smiles and glances you say he's been giving you. A word of warning though, don't expect too much from him just yet. Would it be correct of me to say that you're asking about romantic relationships because of him?

Before she married George (I'm referring to the Hogwarts days), your Mum and I talked extensively about our similar powers. The powers you've got are rather limited compared to Skye's, and Alex though that there was a reason for this. She did some research on it, I believe, but never got to tell me anything she may have found out. However, about your Dad...both Alex and George know his powers to be a sort of derivative of his wife's. It seemed that they shared her inherent powers. Alex once said to me, 'Maybe it's because he was destined for me and the other way around?' Of course, she was joking then.

Be flattered that Skye considers you to be like Hermione. Write again soon, and tell my son that I just received an owl regarding the detention he received for some prank he pulled AFTER THE WELCOMING FEAST. Did you have anything to do with that?

Aunt Calla"

She sat up, rubbing her eyes a bit. Both her father and aunt had had underlying messages in their letters, and she knew that they were rather touchy about the possibility of her having a relationship with Devon.

"Rain?"

"Yes, Esther? I'm in here."

"Skye asked me to come up and fetch you. He says he needs to speak with you."

Sighing again, Rain rose from her bed. Esther was at the door of the dormitory, waiting.

"Where is he?"

"Down in the common room."

"I'll go see him then. Thanks, Esther."

She walked down the stairs to the common room, searching for the dark red hair identical to hers. She spotted Skye near the portrait hole, arms folded across his chest, leaning against the wall in the casual manner he always had.

I wonder what it is this time.

"What is it?" she asked once she had gotten within speaking distance.

"Would you want to practice tonight? I know I need to, and you look like you need a break from whatever it is you're thinking about," he offered, cocking his head to the right and looking expectant.

Rain nodded. Skye smiled at her and exited the common room with her following. They went to the room on the third floor again, not meeting anybody in the hallways as they passed. Once they were safely inside, they both sat down.

"Will I start or will you?" he asked at once.

"I will," said Rain. "But you'll have to help. I can't manage to make my flames grow."

He nodded, and she began. Softly, Rain sang a lullaby her Dad had taught her, envisioning a flame in her mind's eye. It appeared in her hand, but she continued singing, trying to force it to grow by sheer strength of will. Skye was staring hard at the little flame as well. Slowly, the flame flickered and danced...then grew into a small fireball.

"Stop singing now, Rain," said Skye.

Obediently, Rain closed her mouth-and the fireball disappeared. Rain leaned back on the loveseat, breathing as heavily as though she had run a mile.

"Thanks for helping, Skye," she said weakly.

"I didn't do anything except stare, Rain. My turn," he added to stop her from speaking.

Unlike her, Skye did not need to sing in order to activate his power. It was easier on him to produce fireballs, create strong gusts of wind, shower somebody with water that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. In order to do all of these, Rain needed to be producing a musical sound. She also could not levitate and banish things as he did without a wand, confining her abilities to control over the four elements alone.

Looking at the small fireplace, Skye lit the logs laying there. Then he turned his gaze to Rain, lifting her up four feet without touching her.

"Put me down Skye," she protested.

"You don't trust me?"

"Spot on. Now put me down, please."

"I thought you liked flying," Skye said teasingly.

"With a broom underneath me!"

"Alright, alright. Keep your hair on."

Laughing, he gently set her back onto the couch. Rain immediately slapped him hard on the leg.

"Don't you dare do that to me again, you idiot."

Skye grinned again...then suddenly sombered. He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. When he looked back at her, his grey eyes had a serious expression that was rarely seen there.

"You've been so detached with everything lately. Ever since last night, you've been moving as though automatically. It's like you're not really there, Rain. No, I'm to going to ask you to tell me why anymore, because I know you're not going to tell me. I just want you to know that you can always come to me you need anybody to talk to or cry on..." he trailed off, tearing his gaze from hers again.

Rain sighed.

"I know, Skye, and I'm grateful. Thanks," she said, leaning on his shoulder wearily. "I'm tired. I don't usually get tired after using my powers..."

"It's the first time you were able to produce a fireball on your own, so-"

"No, it's not, actually. But the first time was sort of an accident."

Her cousin leaned back, throwing an arm around her and putting his chin on her the top of her head. They stayed in that position for a few minutes, not speaking.

"So, you want to practice more?"

"Er-you go ahead. I'll just watch and criticize you, if that's alright."

She didn't need to see Skye's face to know that he had rolled his eyes. He stood and stretched a bit. Then, his grin came back.

"I have an idea. Why don't we try and see if I can levitate that whole couch?" he asked with a very mischievous gleam in his eyes.

****

Before Rain could speak, he had the loveseat up in the air, hovering two feet above his head.

"I hate you, Skye Weasley. Let me just state that fact," came Rain's snarl from above.

"I've known that for a very long time, Rain, so it actually isn't much use telling me that. Don't worry, I hate you too sometimes" he replied.

Rain had been strangely detached the whole day, and Skye thought he knew the reason why. Something big had happened between her and Malfoy, obviously. The fact he didn't know was if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

If he was being completely honest, Rain wasn't the only person walking around Hogwarts like the living dead. Jon was being incredibly-er-automatic with everything. He was going through his routines mechanically, as though he had been wound and set in motion like a toy.

Waving the couch back onto the ground, Skye stared at the small fireplace.

"Why don't you turn it blue or something?" suggested Rain.

He looked at his cousin and sighed. He couldn't refuse her anything-he never could, even when they were younger.

"Alright, then..."

~*~

He went into a controlled dive, pulling out of it a foot from the ground.

Flying was another one of his escapes. It provided him with a freedom he didn't have back on the ground. It gave him an outlet for all emotions, all his anger and frustrations. The simple joy of being in the air with the wind whipping his hair back took his breath away, for there were no restrictions when he was flying.

His life was made of restrictions and rules. He had been raised inhibited by the rule of self-control, not allowing him to express any untoward or untimely feeling. It was the principle on which his existence was based.

Devon sat still in midair for a moment, enjoying the view of the setting sun. All was peaceful for him in this frozen piece of time.

I'll have to go back soon. I need to answer those questions Father sent me before Pontiard does.

He was hesitant to land, even though he knew it was inevitable. There was no pressure when he was up in the air; no Pontiard, no Draco Malfoy, no Severus Snape. Nobody could dictate his life when he was flying.

****

She watched as he slowly landed, drinking in how perfect he looked in the orange light of sunset. Of course, he always looked perfect and unruffled, no matter how stressful situations were. His disposition was always one of calm indifference, as though he had seen so much that nothing could surprise him or catch him unaware. His every movement seemed precise and calculated, like he thought and rehearsed everything he did beforehand.

Rain had left Skye in the middle of their practice, saying she needed some fresh air. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. She needed a little more time to herself.

What's there to think about, really? He wants to be my boyfriend, and I like the idea. What am I pondering about?

For the hundredth time, Rain shook her head. This wasn't working. She knew what she wanted to do, and nobody could very well stop her if she so chose to be his girlfriend. But no matter how much she thought about it and weighed the possible consequences, the question still stood: was she ready for a relationship like this?

Even though she'd deny it vehemently if asked out loud, Rain knew that she had been under the wing of her relatives most of her life. She'd been taken care of, protected and loved by those surrounding her. She had no actual experience of taking care of herself. Even Hogwarts wasn't an escape-she had about a dozen cousins in the castle.

The reason why little Ms. Weasley was being coddled was not unknown to her. Of all the Weasley family (extended family included), she was the only motherless child. She, who had never known her mother, was sympathized with and pitied by older and younger relatives alike. To them, it probably made her look like a delicate, fragile little girl that was weak because there was no woman she could call 'Mum'. What their reaction to the 'fragile little dear' agreeing to become the girlfriend of Draco Malfoy's first son was currently unimaginable.

Oh, bloody hell. This is getting me nowhere.

~*~

The next day, Sunday, was going by agonizingly slowly. Rain tried to let the time pass by doing the homework she'd deliberately put off yesterday, but she seemed to finish them so quickly that it was unsatisfactory. Frowning, Rain threw her quill across the table and searched the common room for someone to talk to.

On another table sat Imogen Weasley, Head Girl and Uncle Percy's eldest daughter. Beside her sat Timothy Weasley, the second son of Uncle Charlie and Seeker of the Gryffindor House Quidditch team. On Imogen's other side was Adrienne Potter, her godfather's first daughter. With them was Hayley, Imogen's younger sister and Henry, Uncle Ron's son.

In front of the fire were several Sixth and Seventh Years, casually chatting about something. A quick glance around the circular room told Rain that everybody was immersed in their own activities.

With a sigh, Rain gathered her things, dumped them in her dormitory, and exited Gryffindor Tower in search for something to do. Skye was nowhere to found that afternoon; presumably, he was off pulling another prank.

"Why the long face?" came a voice from behind her.

Rain turned-and smiled.

"Hi, Tiny. Just bored out of my wits, I suppose."

Titania Weasley, Uncle Bill's third daughter, was emerging from a classroom. Tiny was in Ravenclaw, and also in Rain's year. She was also a Prefect.

"Oh. I wish I had nothing to do. As fate would have it, I'm probably busier than Imogen," said Tiny.

"I sincerely doubt that," Rain replied, laughing a bit.

"Well, I need to be off. I need to speak with Professor Flitwick. I'll be seeing you!"

"Yeah," Rain said, watching her cousin jog off.

How I wish five o' clock were here already.

She had sent Devon an owl over breakfast, telling him to meet her in the stands of the Quidditch pitch at five that afternoon. She'd watched him read the short note, hoping he would react. However, as she expected, he didn't.

What if I suddenly wake up and find out this is all a dream? Well, at least it was a nice dream...

****

If for Rain, time was going slowly, for Devon it was rushing past in great dollops. One minute, he was waking up. Next thing he knew, he was sitting down to lunch. Then, he found himself checking his watch and noting that it was only an hour until five.

Damn.

He was nervous. He was flat out nervous and he didn't know what to do about it.

Devon rolled onto his back and sat up. His bed was comfortable, but not made for blokes who were nervous about girls who were going to decide whether they were going to start a relationship together or not. He ran a hand through his hair, noticing that his hand was trembling slightly.

The air in the Slytherin dormitory was humid, making Devon sweat slightly. Rising from his bed, he went to his bedside cabinet and pulled out a few articles of clothing. Then he exited the Slytherin dungeons, heading towards the Prefects' bathroom.

Upon entrance, Devon checked if anybody else was around. As he'd thought, nobody was there. Only nutters who didn't have anything else to do on a pleasantly cloudy Sunday afternoon would think of bathing, humid as it was. He turned several taps on, watching as the differently coloured liquids filled the pool-sized bath.

Devon stripped himself and slowly entered the warm water, feeling his body relax at the feel of the perfect temperature. He still had an hour before meeting Rain...there was still a good sixty minutes separating him from his eminent doom...

Whatever Rain's answer would be, once his father found out about what he did...

Stop it. Didn't you already establish the fact that you don't care what he thinks? After all, what can he possibly do to you that he hasn't already done before? Oh, right. He hasn't disowned me yet.

He'd been having this mental debate with himself since that fateful day at Hogsmeade last year. Since then, he'd been very careful that none of his fellow Slytherins ever found out about his friendship with Rain, for it would mean a great and painful punishment for him. Consorting with a Weasley, even though it was only for less than a few minutes each time they met, was like sending himself to Azkaban.

And now I'm asking her to be my girlfriend. I must be going daft...

~*~