Fury

Fury

Chapter Five

Aftermath

George's exclamation came as everyone in the room fell miraculously silent; the echo was almost louder than the shout had been. Cate blushed and let her head fall into her hands, and many of the girl cousins surrounding her burst into giggles. George seemed surprised that he had said anything, but his mouth tightened as he looked around the room. Grabbing Cate's hand, he pulled her out of her chair and into the hallway, closing the door behind them.

He thrust the paper into her face. "What happened last night?" The question was almost a hiss.

Cate blinked up at him, surprised. "What do you mean? I would have thought, from the picture at least, that it was quite obvious."

George's ears turned red. "No, that's...I mean...after the kiss..." He stammered some other meaningless phrases before glancing down at the picture again. "Why am I here? Did we..."

Cate felt a creeping sensation in her stomach, one that felt like nerves but was, quite possibly, the hangover. A potion could only cure so much, after all, and it was useless for memory loss. "We all got very, very drunk last night, and then my aunt showed up and started shoving people into the fireplace. Everyone that was there last night is here this morning. I think my grandmother called your mother to tell her where you were. You slept in one of the guestrooms, and I was in my room. I'd almost forgotten you were here."

George groaned, but seemed slightly relieved. "Mum won't be pleased with me."

Cate frowned. "And you think my family was? I had a lecture this morning that started far too early about how to behave in public."

George stared at her with bleary eyes. "I don't have to listen to this shite from you."

He turned to leave, but Cate grabbed his arm. "No, we're going to deal with this right now." She took a deep breath. "You kissed me. Why did you do that?"

Now the back of his neck was red, too. "I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

The slap resonated throughout the hallway, and there was a shocked gasp from behind the closed door.

George held his stinging cheek, indignation written broadly across his face. "What the bloody hell did you do that for?"

Cate's eyes flashed. "You are a pompous, arrogant ass, and I never, ever want to speak to you again!"

George grinned, as if rising to a challenge, his hand still pressed to his cheek. "I may be an ass, but you do want to speak to me. In fact, I'd guess that you probably want to kiss me again."

Cate's eyes narrowed, and she growled, "I most certainly do not!"

George grabbed her hand as she swung for another slap and pulled her close. "I'm betting you do."

He kissed her again, and, though she fought it for a moment, she found herself sinking into it as she had last night. He really was a fantastic kisser, and even better when he was sober. At least, mostly sober.

"Catherine Elizabeth Moon!"

Cate jumped guiltily away from George. "Mother! I...we were...uh...we were discussing the newspaper article, Mother..." She trailed off, seeing the look on her face. Her Aunt Helena peeked out from behind her mother's robes, a smile on her face. Aunt Helena was rarely without a smile, something her daughter Cornelia had inherited.

"Oh, come now, Serenity, it's hardly the end of the world. The number of times I've caught Benjamin and Reagan kissing...though you should learn some discretion, dear, and not snog in hallways where just anyone might pass."

Serenity frowned imperiously. "I do believe it's time to go, don't you, Catherine dear? You do have to work this afternoon, don't you? And your mother must be worried about you, Mister Weasley. If I were your mother, I would be."

Cate set her jaw. "We'll get our things, Mother, and he can Floo to my apartment. It doesn't have the wards that the Manor does, and he can Apparate straight to his mother from there. And no, I don't have to work today. I took the weekend off. I thought I could spend time with my family." She practically spat the last sentence, bitterness in every word.

She spun on her heel and marched down the hall to the staircase, dragging George bodily behind her.

He didn't say a word when she pulled him into her room, throwing articles of clothing into a small bag. Storming into the bathroom, she shoved toiletries haphazardly into the clothing, not bothering to even dry the toothbrush. He was silent as she dragged him down a few hallways to the room where he had, presumably, spent the night; she quickly conjured a small bag and shoved his very few personal belongings into it.

He didn't speak until they were near the fireplace on the third floor. "I could just Floo to my apartment..." he said quietly.

Cate didn't hesitate as she threw a handful of glittering powder into the fire, turning the flames green. "I wouldn't give my mother the satisfaction."

Pulling him into the flames with her, she called out, "My apartment!"

~*~

Cate and George stumbled out of the fireplace gracelessly, falling onto her hearthrug in a pile of limbs and baggage straps. She was lying sideways across his knees, and his right hand was wrapped (somehow) in both her hair and the straps of the bag with her things in it.

He spoke first. "Well. That was...an experience."

She pushed herself away, wincing as he pulled her hair. "Yes, it was," she snapped, trying to disentangle herself. "Well, this is my...apartment..."

He looked up, concerned, as her voice trailed away. Looking around for the first time, he felt his mouth drop open in shock. "What in the name of Merlin's beard happened here?"

The apartment had been ransacked. It was a small place, no more than a living area and a bedroom, but there wasn't a single thing left standing. Furniture had been shredded, and the stuffing thrown around. End tables had been smashed, as had every piece of ceramic and glass in both the kitchen and living room. Books had been ripped to shreds; clothing slashed and thrown everywhere. The door to the bedroom had been ripped off its hinges, and he could see that it was in no better shape than the living room.

Cate choked back a sob. "What..." She turned around, and screamed.

George jumped to his feet as he stared above the fireplace. The only thing left intact in the entire apartment was a mirror, the one above the fireplace. Written in dripping red letters were the words "Bad Dog!" Dangling from a string attached to the ceiling was the small, limp form of a gray and brown tabby cat.

~*~

George only found himself frozen for a few seconds before he grabbed Cate and Apparated to his own apartment above the Diagon Alley shop. It was still early, and a Sunday, so there were few customers, and the shop was still quiet.

Cate was a mess. The ransacking of her apartment and the death of what must have been her cat had hit her very hard, and she still hadn't fully recovered from the night before. He sat her in one of the comfortable armchairs that he and Fred had chosen for their very first pieces of furniture. It had taken a year for him to even be able to sit in one, but now they were just like other memories of his twin: painful at first, and then happy. The chairs were brick red with garish lime green stripes, and each had come with a footstool in a different color; George's chair had one that was electric blue, and Fred's had been canary yellow.

Cate didn't even seem to notice the clash of color that was evident everywhere in the apartment. The coffee table was steel and glass, a gift from Hermione and Ron, and the dining room table heavy black wood painted with brightly colored dragons, a gift from Charlie. The blankets piled on the brown leather sofa were a mix of his Mum's knitting projects in bright stripes and pieces that had to have been picked out of the trash before they were sold.

George walked into the tiny kitchenette (that he rarely used because Fred had been the better cook) and filled a glass with water. He walked back into the living room and handed it to Cate. She took it, her hands shaking, and stared straight ahead with blank eyes.

He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Cate? I'm going to call the Aurors and tell them what happened, alright?"

She nodded, the glass in her hand shaking hard enough to spill drops of water all over her lap.

He walked to the small fireplace (Fred had charmed half the bricks to be gold, and the others to change colors randomly, and he hadn't had the heart to remove the charms), conjured a fire, and threw in a handful of Floo powder from the orange and pink flowerpot on the mantel. "Auror Potter's office!"

He stuck his face in the flames, feeling the warmth and ash from the fire tickle his neck. He waited patiently for Harry to turn around; he was hunched over his tiny desk, quill in hand, scribbling on a sheet of paper. Ron, who shared the office, was nowhere to be seen; unsurprising, since it was nearly ten-thirty on a Sunday morning.

George waited an additional minute for Harry to finish, but he showed no sign of stopping. "Harry?"

Harry nearly jumped out of his seat as he spun around, wand drawn and glasses tilted at an odd angle. "George? What are you...what's going on? You know it's Sunday, right? And morning?"

George smirked. "Which is why you're here, of course."

Harry blushed. "Ginny had practice...I needed to finish paperwork..."

George nodded. "Right, well, I need your help. Ron's too, if you can find him. I've got a bit of an issue, and I don't know exactly what to do."

Harry's face turned serious. "What's up?"

George made a face, glancing at the open door. "Rather not talk about it through the Floo, if you don't mind."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, alright. I'll get Ron and we'll come to your place. Be there in fifteen minutes."

George smiled tightly. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry grinned. "I still owe you for what you did at my wedding."

George choked back a laugh and pulled his head out of the fire. Cate hadn't moved. He walked over to her and knelt in front of her. "The Aurors will be here soon, alright?" he said, his voice low and soothing.

She didn't move. Sighing, George settled himself on the other armchair to wait for Harry and Ron.

~*~

Harry and Ron arrived at his door fourteen minutes, fifty-three seconds later. George knew that because he had had nothing better to do than stare at the clock and wait for Cate to come out of her stupor. He leapt out of his chair and raced for the entry, surprising his brother in the process of knocking. Ron had his hand raised comically, and his maroon Auror's robes were disheveled, as if he had picked them up off of the floor. In comparison, Harry looked tidy, with only a spot of ink staining his hand to show he had been doing something else.

Ron scowled. "What is it, George? Have too much to drink again? Need us to get rid of some barmy chick?"

Harry smacked Ron on the arm. "If you don't want me to tell Hermione you said that, you'd better apologize."

Ron stared at Harry for a second before sighing and looking at his brother, who was red and slightly angry. "Sorry, George." Ron then smirked knowingly. "Mum's looking for you, by the way. Something about last night?"

George smiled at him, baring his teeth. "Not that it's your business, little Ronniekins, but I'll Floo her later."

Ron flushed angrily and opened his mouth, but Harry beat him to it. "What's wrong, George?"

George held the door open for them to come in. He heard Ron's snort of disgust when he saw the back of Cate's head, but, thankfully, Cate was still too stunned to notice anything.

Harry barely glanced at her before turning to George with a questioning frown. "Who..."

George motioned for them to sit, taking the chair closest to Cate; Harry and Ron took the leather sofa, but didn't get comfortable. At least, Harry didn't. Ron leaned back and heaved a sigh, as though he had been on his feet all day.

With a quick glance at Cate, George told both Aurors what had happened at her apartment, leaving out how and why they had gone there. Ron's knowing smirk disappeared within the first few words, to be replaced by a professionally curious, then angry, expression.

"And then she screamed. I turned around and saw the words 'Bad Dog' written in what looked like blood, and a cat hanging from the ceiling. The cat was dead. I think it was Cate's."

Cate spoke for the first time. "Her name was Mimi. She was a gift from my brother."

Harry turned to her, and she jumped. His gaze wasn't accusing, but blank, with a bland sort of concern that she was sure was trained into them. "Can you think of anyone who would do something like that? Any reasons?" Cate shook her head, and Harry sighed. "Alright. Ron and I will take a couple of other Aurors over there and search for clues." He and Ron stood.

George stood with them and walked them to the door. "What should I do with her?" he asked the pair quietly.

Ron frowned. "Keep her here for now, if you can. The search shouldn't take too long; no more than a couple hours."

Harry looked over George's shoulder at the huddled girl. "I'll get a cleanup crew in there, make sure everything is straightened out."

George smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

He shut the door behind the two and went back to Cate. She was huddled around herself, knees pulled to her chest and arms wrapped around them. She looked up at him with tear-filled blue eyes. "I'm really sorry, George. I don't mean to intrude."

He stood awkwardly in front of her. "There's nothing to be sorry about. Harry said to stay here until they're done, after all. Shouldn't be too long. What would you like to do?" He swallowed. "Do you need to...talk?"

Cate started shaking, sobs racking her body. "It's just...Mimi was all I had left of my brother." Her voice trailed off, and she put her forehead on her knees. George sat on the arm of the chair and wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry into his chest.

He patted her back too hard, and winced. He was no good with crying girls.