Fury

Fury

Chapter Six

Brothers

Cate woke in an awkward position; from the cramp in her neck, she had been there for quite a while. She grunted as she sat up, her head feeling fuzzy and her eyes scratchy. She remembered last night all too well, but she had no idea how she had ended up in the large bed in the garishly blue room. She grabbed for her wand where it lay on a nearby impossibly red night table and cast a quick Lumos. The room was too dark for it to still be daylight; there was a faint light coming from under the door, but her wand was the only illumination.

She heard something crash in the other room and a muffled curse, but no one came to check on her. Sliding her legs out from under the blankets, she made her way carefully across the floor, nearly tripping on the edge of a yellow carpet. Creaking the door open, she saw George making his way from the fireplace, rubbing his shin and holding a broken lamp. A quick flick of his wand fixed the lamp, but did nothing for his bruised shin.

Cate closed the door slowly and leaned against it, trying desperately to calm herself. Bursting into tears, no matter how badly she wanted to do it, would not help her solve her current problem. The cryptic comment, the one that George, Harry, and Ron had been discussing over her head last night, raced through her mind. Bad dog.

Someone knew.

She heard George talking to someone, but didn't want to interrupt. She had no idea how long she had been there, no clue about what was being done in her apartment. And then there was Mimi.

The small cat had been her constant companion over the past few years. She'd helped Cate through some very rough times, and now she was just gone. She wouldn't sleep curled up at Cate's side, or play in her underwear drawer when she wasn't looking. She wouldn't sneak onto the table and eat scraps, or hiss at people passing on the other side of the door. She was gone.

Cate fought the tears that sprang up at the thought and wiped angrily at her eyes. Here she was, a grown woman, crying because of a stupid cat. She told herself that she just missed the cat, but it wasn't that at all. Her brother had given her Mimi the summer before he died.

A whispered Nox, and she was in the dark again, just as she should be.

~*~

Cate didn't know how long she stood against the door, fighting back tears and angry sobs, but it must have been quite a while. George was no longer talking to someone in the fireplace (she assumed that the person had been in the fireplace, because she hadn't heard anyone else in the apartment) and there were no noises from the other room. A quick glance around showed that there was no bathroom attached to the bedroom; she'd have to go into the other room and risk George seeing her with red eyes and a swollen nose. Unlike her sister, she didn't cry prettily.

Suddenly, the door pushed in hard, and she went flying across the dark room, knocking over a chair with a stack of clothing and dropping her wand, which emitted red sparks as it went sailing into the bed, lighting a corner of the blanket on fire.

There was a wordless shout, a crash, and George put the fire out quickly, a tray held loosely in one hand and a stack of broken dishes and spreading tea on the ground at his feet. He flicked his wand, and the lights came on in the room, leaving Cate no way to get to her feet in a dignified way.

George simply stared at the mess in front of him for a few seconds, then began to laugh uproariously. Cate, sprawled face first in a stack of shirts and clean socks, found herself laughing, too, even though she couldn't say why. George helped her to her feet, then rubbed his chin as he contemplated the mess in front of him. Grinning, he pulled her out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Cate choked on a laugh. "What about..."

George snorted. "Later. Merlin, I swear I'll clean it up later."

He brought her into the kitchen, which was surprisingly normal, and quickly boiled another pot of tea. She sat at his kitchen table and watched him pick out tea leaves and float the tea service to her, chocolate biscuits on a small plate in the middle of the tray. Cate couldn't help but find it funny; it was all so very normal, and that didn't go very well with her image of George, whose violet robes showed a large stain near the collar in putrescent green and another on the left sleeve that looked disturbingly like blood.

He sat across from her and poured the tea, and Cate sank into the normalcy of tea time. They didn't speak, except to ask for the other to pass the sugar or the biscuits. She found herself studying George, and he, in turn, watched her study him.

He wasn't much older than she was; in fact, he was just three years older than her, the same age as her sister Isabelle. She had heard stories of the infamous Weasley twins since her sister had started at Hogwarts, and had not been disappointed when she herself attended, during their fourth year. Even with the subdued atmosphere of the castle due to attacks on several students, they were still vibrant and lively, and Cate, though she didn't know them, and knew for a fact that her sister didn't wish to know them, found herself craving stories of their exploits. When she had been partnered with Ginny Weasley during their Potions lessons, she talked to the girl about their families, both of which were large, and brothers, which they both had.

Eventually, as she got older, she was less drawn to the twins' antics, and found herself focusing more closely on her studies. They left during her miserable fourth year in an explosion of fireworks and swamps, and Cate forgot about them for the next year or so in the terror that followed. It wasn't until You-Know-Who had taken over Hogwarts at the beginning of her sixth year, and the Wireless started broadcasting Potterwatch, that she really remembered the Weasley twins, and wondered what was happening to them. The end of the year, that terrible battle, left little room for any happy memories of school.

George cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Why are you staring at me?"

Cate blushed. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

George frowned. "You looked so sad," he said, then looked horrified to have said anything.

Cate smiled at him, but it was a sad smile. "I was thinking about Hogwarts, about you and your brother there. You were my heroes for a long time."

George's half-smirk, so constant, disappeared. He looked at his hands. "Yeah, well, F-Fred and I were memorable."

Cate looked down at the chocolate biscuit on her plate. "You were at that. I was thinking about the Final Battle, actually." When she saw his face, she wished desperately that she could have taken her words back.

George was gripping his teacup in white fingers, his eyes blank and staring. "I can't really forget it."

Cate shook herself. His usual humor was gone, and she wished she hadn't begun the stupid conversation. "I'm sorry. I can't either."

George nearly snarled as he stood, slamming the teacup onto the table and stalking over to the sink, his back to her. "What do you know about it? You weren't there. I was! I saw...it doesn't matter. You weren't there." He said it like an accusation.

Cate snapped the biscuit in half and wanted to throw it at his head. "I was, actually. I was at Hogwarts that year. My brother and I were there that whole year. And my younger brother was a first year. We weren't allowed not to attend. We weren't old enough."

George snorted. "That doesn't mean you were at the Final Battle. McGonagall evacuated all of the younger years."

Cate felt her hands shake. "I didn't leave. And neither did my brother. We sent Charles away, and then we stayed. We wanted to help."

George turned back to her, his face unreadable. "Nathan is too old. He would have graduated already."

Cate refused to look at him. "He was out of the country, actually, in America. My brother Leo was in his seventh year."

George took a step toward the table, frowning. "I didn't meet him at your house, did I? I can't remember all of their names."

Cate shook her head, ashamed at the tears that were forming. "No, you didn't meet him. During the battle, he was killed by a Death Eater. He threw himself in front of the Killing Curse for me."

There was silence for several minutes, as George processed the information and Cate tried to regain control of her emotions. It had been five years, but she still couldn't think about Leo without crying.

George seemed to make a decision and broke the silence. "I wasn't there when Fred was killed. We'd split up to help Harry, and my brother Percy was with him. Not me; stupid, arrogant Percy was with him. Percy made a joke, he said, a stupid, pointless joke, and Fred was laughing when the wall exploded on him. That's what everyone always says to me; at least he died laughing. They don't really understand that I would rather he wasn't dead."

Cate nodded slowly, wiping a stray tear off her cheek. "At least people talk about him. My family...it's like he never existed. We never say his name. And my mother blames me for his death."

George stared at her in stunned fascination. "That's why she was so... She blames you?"

Cate nodded slowly. "She told me, not very long ago, right after I moved into my own place, that she wishes that he had never saved me, because then he'd be here, and I wouldn't. Not that I can blame her."

~*~

They sat in silence for a minute before Cate stood and walked out of the room. George didn't follow; he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts. He didn't move until he heard knocking on his front door. Jerking himself out of his stupor, he made his way there, avoiding looking at the couch, where he could see Cate's dark head poking over the back.

Harry stood awkwardly, his hands thrust in his pockets. "Hey, George. Can I come in?"

George stood aside, holding the door open. "Yeah, sure. What's happening?"

Harry glanced over at Cate. "This is kind of a private matter, George. I need to speak to her alone, if you don't mind."

George shrugged. "No, that's fine. I made a bit of a mess in the spare room; I'll go straighten that up, shall I?"

Harry stared into his face. "Are you alright?"

George gave him a tired grin. "Fine. Just been thinking."

Harry patted him on the shoulder, walking into the apartment warily. "We'll talk soon, okay? Ginny wants you to come over soon; she says she misses you."

George found himself smirking. "She's got you wrapped around her little finger, eh, Potter?"

Harry smirked right back, his green eyes twinkling. "Has done for years, George. I'm just admitting it now. Unlike Ron."

Laughing, George shut the door and walked with Harry to the couch. Cate sat staring at the empty fireplace, her face blank and her eyes red and tired-looking. George cleared his throat. "Ah, Cate, Harry wants to talk to you. I'll be cleaning up that little mess in the spare room if you need me."

She nodded, transferring her blank stare to Harry who slumped into the armchair with a groan. "Thanks, George."

George smiled tightly, looking between the two. "Right then. Call if you need me."

Both pairs of eyes, one dark blue, one green, watched him walk into the brightly blue room and shut the door behind him. Harry drew his wand and cast a quick silencing charm on the door, smiling apologetically at her.

"Just a precaution." When she didn't respond, he leaned forward and continued. "Well, Miss Moon, we had a full team of Aurors sweep your apartment, looking for clues as to who could have broken in and, ah, done the damage. We found several cursed items scattered around your apartment; the nature of the curses leads us to believe that the objects weren't owned by you." He said the last questioningly, but she shook her head, mouth tensed and in a thin line. "There were a few curses on the rooms themselves that we were unable to remove; I have a specialist coming tomorrow to take care of it. You should be able to be back there by the end of the week. Do you have somewhere you can go?"

Cate shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose I could go home, to the Manor..."

Harry winced. "Yes, that's an option, but from what George has implied..." He cleared his throat. "About the message..."

Cate looked at him, her face carefully neutral. "Yes?"

Harry looked uncomfortable. "I took the liberty to check over a few things personally. One of my Aurors found a glass vial containing Wolfsbane potion. Can I assume that it was yours?"

Cate found her eyes welling up with tears she couldn't control. There was sympathy in his voice, but something else, too, something she couldn't place. "Yes, it's mine," she whispered.

Harry sighed. "I thought so. You are an unregistered werewolf..." At her questioning look, he grinned sheepishly. "I checked. I'm assuming very few know?"

Cate stared at her hands. "My parents and siblings. My grandmother. The person who makes the potion for me. No one else."

Harry nodded. "Then either someone close to you vandalized your apartment, or someone else knows."

~*~

After Harry left, nearly ten minutes later, Cate found herself staring at nothing. Someone else knows... She'd made Harry promise to keep his findings out of his report, and he had agreed without trepidation, understanding what she was so afraid to say.

Though there had been advances in the past couple of years in werewolf rights, mostly thanks to Hermione Granger, a legal aide in the Ministry, there was so much prejudice left that the rights almost didn't matter. While yes, it was true that werewolves could now hold a steady job, and couldn't be fired simply because they were a werewolf, and were allowed to take the days around the full moon off, they could be fired for other reasons. And many still couldn't be hired, because of the Werewolf Registration Act, which required that all werewolves submit themselves to the Ministry to "protect the populace at large, and to assist the werewolf population." In reality, it was simply an excuse to watch them.

Recently, a new law had been passed down in the Ministry, requiring that all werewolves in England and Ireland have a safe house, a place where they would be safe to change and where others would be safe from them. Cate's father had built such a place, mostly for her, but he allowed many of the local Wizarding werewolves to take shelter there. The Muggle wolves, those poor souls, had to use special safe houses run by the Ministry.

She heard George open the door behind her and nearly jumped out of her seat. She'd almost forgotten that he was there, and that this wasn't her apartment. For a minute, she'd almost forgotten why she was here.

He looked at her sitting alone in the firelight. "Harry gone?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. George made his way around the couch and took Harry's recently vacated chair. "What'd he say?"

She shuddered. "He said I have to find a place to stay until the end of the week. Apparently, there are some pretty nasty curses in my apartment, and it isn't safe to go back."

He frowned. "Do you have somewhere you can go?" he asked, unconsciously echoing Harry's words from before.

Cate shrugged. "Back to the Manor, I suppose. My cousins will all be gone by now, and it'll just be my parents and grandmother. And Nathan. And Isabelle and Matthias. But it won't be so bad."

George nearly growled. "You said that your mother hates you."

Cate didn't look at him. "I never said that. She just...nothing I do is good enough for her."

"You said she wanted you dead," he mumbled under his breath; she had no trouble hearing him, and apparently he hadn't meant to keep it too quiet.

Cate ignored it. "I'll be fine. It's just for a few days."

He didn't look any less concerned. "What about the way we left? Won't your mum be a bit upset?"

Cate sighed. "I'll just have to apologize." She certainly didn't sound apologetic.

He waited, but when she didn't say anything else, he stared at his hands and said quietly, "You could stay here."

Cate blinked. "What?"

He looked at her wide eyes. "I said you could stay here. Like you said, it's only for a few days. And the apothecary is only a few stores down from the Wheezes. You could sleep in the spare room. No one else uses it."

Cate blinked at him stupidly. "Are you sure? You barely know me."

George grinned. "I know enough. You're pretty, and you won't murder me in my sleep, and you need a place to sleep." He stood and made his way towards the kitchen, throwing her a wicked smile over his shoulder. "Plus, you're one hell of a kisser."