Fury

Fury

Chapter Twenty-Two

Family Ties

Cate and George stumbled through fireplace into their flat, still grinning.

"Thank Merlin for Charlie!" George yelled, giggling. "I could have kissed him!"

Cate leaned against him, doing her best to hold him upright. "I think your mum was about to keel over when he popped in. At least we weren't the newest and best thing there. Rhiannon is adorable, though, isn't she?"

George's flushed face glowed in the low candle light. "Absolutely. Looks very much not like Charlie."

Cate smacked him across the chest and helped him into their bedroom. "Now, Mr. Weasley, let's get you to bed."

George gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek and flopped onto the bed, sprawling as he went, so that one foot, still in its shoe, was on the floor, and the other, completely bare, wiggled suggestively. "Is that a promise, Mrs. Weasley? I'll hold you to it."

Cate couldn't help but laugh, and jumped on him, tickling and being tickled, until the laughter turned into moans.

~*~
Molly had taken Charlie immediately to one side, and dragged Arthur over as well. She'd cooed over the toddler- Charlie told them the girl was two, give or take a month or so- and then had handed her over into the only open female hands- Cate.

Cate looked down at the beautiful child with curly red hair, a remarkably round face, and brilliant brown eyes, and suddenly, this wasn't Charlie's daughter- it was hers and George's, and her heart melted. But the little girl- Rhiannon, a very Welsh name that she'd have to ask about- was afraid of all the strangers and seemed to find Cate comforting. She buried her face in Cate's shoulder, leaving her in an awkward position.

George put his hand on her hip, letting her know that he was there, all the while distracting the others with tales of his trip to America, most embellished, but surprisingly not all. Cate hummed to the little girl, who now had tears in her eyes, and rocked her gently. And then little James, with his own curly red hair and bright brown eyes, tugged on Cate's pant leg.

"Auntie Cate?" he asked, his voice sweetly lisping. "Who's that?"

Cate felt a rush of warmth toward the little boy, and pride for suddenly being an 'auntie'. "Well, James, this is your new cousin, Rhiannon." She leaned over, so both toddlers could see. "Rhiannon, this is your cousin James. He's very nice."

James blinked up that the girl. "Hello, Ree," he said, waving.

Rhiannon looked down, still pressed against Cate's shoulder. "Hi, James," she whispered.

James frowned suddenly. "You want to go play? Daddy gave me his wand."

Rhiannon nodded, and Cate set her down. The two looked at each other for a little bit before running off under the table. Harry grinned, then reached into his back pocket. His grin dissolved, and he dove under the table after his son. "James!"

Of course, no one helped, not even Ginny, but Harry was able to wrestle his wand away, leaving the two talking animatedly and giggling under the tablecloth.

George put his arm casually around Cate's shoulders. "So, then..."

And, before he could finish, Cate was pulled away by the woman, leaving George to the tender mercies of his brothers.

~*~
Cate was huddled around one end of the table, being grilled with questions. What was it like, the wedding? Was it Muggle or Magical? What had she worn? Flowers? Who witnessed? She could barely get a word in between the questions, but everyone was talking and laughing, so she didn't really care. And James and Rhiannon had moved their game, whatever it was, to their end of the table. Occasionally, they would grab at her pants and shirt, but it seemed like part of the game.

She could just make out George, away from the house, and his brothers. Their talk seemed a bit rougher than hers, but there was a lot of laughing and ribbing, and that was fine, too.

Molly and Arthur joined them shortly after. Molly still looked furious, glaring at her second son as he walked away towards his brothers, but also at peace, which seemed to Cate an odd contradiction. Arthur didn't seem to mind being in the middle of all the woman. He just took two of his grandchildren and made faces at them, ignoring, for the most part, the conversation flowing around him. Molly added her own questions to the cacophony, and, by the time everyone was satisfied, had begun to plan, for next weekend, a wedding reception for nearly a hundred guests.

Cate felt totally overwhelmed until Rhiannon crawled into her lap, snuggled against her, and fell soundly asleep, leaving James to create havoc for his mother. She rocked the little girl unconsciously, still talking, and watched the boys go deeper into shadow, and the joking become rougher. Ron tackled George, and Bill soon followed, grabbing Charlie in a stranglehold while the shorter, stockier man tried to do the same to him. Percy stood to one side, frowning, until James, unseen by anyone else, threw a handful of mud at the back of his head. Percy spun in horror, and took another handful to the face. Harry grabbed his son and ran him back to Ginny, grinning, but the boys had taken on the idea in full force. Soon, mud and water flew everywhere.

Molly glanced at her sons every so often, but didn't try to stop them. Indeed, she had a large grin on her face as well. It was only when the children started dropping like flies that she went over to put an end to it, marching over with wand in hand and spraying them with icy water. The woman felt into their chairs, laughing, as the boys walked past Molly, soaked and mud splattered, but all grinning.

Percy and Audrey were the first to go after that, taking little Molly and Apparating away after saying goodbye. Audrey left Cate with a slip of paper, the name of their house written on it, and a promise to call soon so they could get to know one another.

Bill and Fleur were next, with a great deal of teasing by the remaining brothers. But though Bill begged slightly, Fleur would have none of it, and packed away their daughters' things for the short Apparation home. Bill gave Charlie a hearty slap on the back, and Fleur kissed Cate on both cheeks, welcoming her to the family. Bill also gave George a gruff handshake, and ruffled Ron's hair, though his much younger brother was taller than he was. They Apparated with grins and waves, and the house seemed dimmer for their leaving.

Charlie took Rhiannon from Cate and brought her into the house. He'd be staying there for a week or so, while taking his vacation from work, and Molly was both annoyed and thrilled. He kissed Cate, punched George in the arm, and waited while they both said goodbye to the sleepy toddler.

Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny all left together, laughing and trying to be quiet, but just before Ron left, George pelted him with a handful of slimy mud. Ron threw his brother a disgusted look as Hermione began to berate him, all the while laughing hysterically. Harry and Ginny wisely stayed out of it, though Cate saw Ginny do something to the mud with her wand.

That left George and Cate alone with Molly and Arthur. Arthur threw his arms around her, and welcomed her wholeheartedly to the family, saying that he had never seen his son happier than with her, and that she would do very well. George hugged his mother as well, looking apprehensive. And then the parents switched, and Cate was facing the rather intimidating Molly Weasley.

Molly grabbed Cate and squeezed her into a hug better than anything her own mother had ever given her. Cate felt tears well up as Molly pulled back and put both hands on her face. "You are more than welcome to come here anytime you like. You're my daughter now, too, and I would love to get to know you as well as the rest. And next weekend, remember, that wedding reception?"

Cate nodded, trying not to tear up, and asked, "Can I come and help you cook? It's just that I'd like to learn, and George says that you're the best..."

Molly grinned. "Well, then, aren't you just the charmer? I see why he likes you."

Cate blinked. "But..."

Molly nodded. "Of course, dear. Just Floo me later this week. I'll have my hands full with the children, and I could use the help."

Cate smiled tremulously, and Molly hugged her again. Arthur and George were very carefully not watching, until the hug broke up and George grabbed her hand.

"Night, Mum."

Molly gave him a stern look. "Don't think I don't know what you did back there, George. I saw what you gave to James. Shame on you for encouraging him."

George grinned cheekily as he threw Floo powder into the fireplace. "Love you too, Mum."

Cate stepped in first, and was about to speak when a flying handful of mud took George directly in the face. His mother stared at him innocently as he wiped it out of his eyes and spit it out of his mouth.

The last thing they heard was Molly scolding him for spitting on her floor, and Arthur congratulating her for a perfect shot.

~*~

Cate woke slowly the next morning, the sunlight streaming across her feet. George was long gone; he had woken her briefly to let her know that he'd be gone for much of the morning, but expected to be back for lunch, after which, they could visit her family.

She'd fallen back to sleep, of course, but now, with the thought of the visit looming over her, she was wide awake. Sitting up, she groaned, running her fingers through her hair. Then she saw the state of the room. Shaking her head, she got out of their bed and went into the bathroom, which was nearly as bad as the bedroom. She'd definitely have to have a word with him about his cleaning habits, she thought, but after a hot shower. And maybe breakfast.

She put on a simple sundress in bright green with large flowers. Her mother would appreciate that she was wearing a dress, and possibly her grandmother; it was a minor concession that could only help her case. She would ask George to wear a nice, not-bright shirt; her grandmother would certainly notice anything that he had in his closet currently. Many of his dress-shirts were in neon or garishly printed, but there was a dark maroon one in the back that would do nicely. She pressed it with her wand and hung it on the closet door. He could pick his own pants, of course, though she would make a gentle suggestion.

She spent the rest of the morning cleaning their flat and adding some of her own personal touches. She changed the colors of the kitchen chairs and table from a blinding orange with red and yellow stripes to a tasteful white with red, orange, and yellow legs. She conjured some curtains, but didn't like the look; the flat didn't seem like the place for frills, and she didn't care for them, either. She left the living room as it was; she liked the bright colors and she knew that George had left it in honor of his brother. The bathroom was tedious, and mostly just needed to be scrubbed, but she had to clean her old things out of the former spare room, surprised that he had kept them, getting rid of some and keeping others. She kept some clothes in the closet, added more, and put some of her things in their new bedroom.

She'd saved it for last, of course, hoping that he'd be home by that time and want to use it for better purposes. But even though the clock said that it was nearly one, he wasn't home yet. So she scrubbed the floors and walls, erasing handprints and smears of potion, and she put his laundry in the hamper (she would do laundry later today, if not tomorrow). She made the bed, put a freshening charm on the sheets, and a couple of items from Arizona on the bedside table and dresser. She hung a painting, one that Muirgan had given her as a wedding present, above the bed; it had bright colors, so it would amuse George, but it was a peaceful view of the desert.

Finished, she went into the living room to wait. And wait. She summoned a book from the spare room (which she had partially converted into a library) and began to read, losing herself in the subtlety of the potions text that she had bought before their trip home.

George came home an hour later and found her dozing on the couch, the book lying on her chest and her hair mussed from sleep. He woke her with a kiss, and she nearly hit him with the book. He told her to go back to sleep, that he'd take a shower and get dressed, and they'd eat and then visit her parents.

She sleepily informed him about the maroon shirt, and curled up on the couch, book lying forgotten on the floor.

George was ready in half an hour, and so woke Cate, who ran a brush through her hair, put on a little makeup and a necklace she said was a gift from her father. George kissed her forehead, grabbed her hand, and they walked down the street to the Leaky Cauldron. He pointed out the photographer from the Daily Prophet, and while she wanted nothing more than to be left alone, he made the argument that it was better that they go about their lives like normal, and ignore everyone else.

They ate a quick, cold lunch, paid, and Apparated away to Moon Manor. George hadn't arrived by Apparation before, and he was suitably impressed.

Cate looked around with hungry eyes. Nothing much had changed. The path, bluish-gray gravel lined with tiny blue flowers, still shot arrow-straight to the circle in front of the house. The Manor was still heavy gray stone, with tall, narrow columns in the front, and landscaping that looked painfully precise. The front door was new, she saw with confusion, and a couple of the lower level windows were broken, but it was still the same house that it had been for her entire life.

She took a deep, shaky breath, gripped George's hand tightly, and marched up to the house. She pulled the bell-cord, and a deep, resonant sound echoed around the stone courtyard.

Cate could feel her knees shaking as she heard heels click across the marble entrance, and then the door creaked open.

An older woman with dark, graying hair and piercing dark eyes stood there, a hint of confusion on her face. "May I help you?"

Cate sensed something was wrong. "Yes. I'd like to speak to my...to Elspeth Moon, please."

The woman's frown deepened. "And you are?" Her voice was low, growly, and spots of red appeared on her cheeks.

George tightened his grip, but didn't say a word. Cate froze for a moment. Had it been that long? But she didn't know this woman...

"Cate Moon, her granddaughter." She was pleased that she barely stuttered at all.

Next to her, George frowned, and she realized that she hadn't used the proper last name. Moon was her maiden name, now.

The woman's frown eased slightly. "Very well. Come inside, and I'll fetch someone for you."

She opened the door fully, and led them into a very formal parlor that Cate remembered from her school days, when, on break, she would get a bad mark or a letter home, and her parents would talk to her about it, her aunts and uncles throwing in the occasional comment for good measure. They sat in one of the uncomfortable sofas, and George looked around with interest in the art, which whispered about their appearance in the obviously underused room.

George leaned back as one of the female portraits giggled and waved. Cate had always hated that girl, with her perfect hair and elaborate gown, and felt the dislike increase as the portrait made eyes at her husband. Possessively, she pulled him down into a quick kiss; that shut the stupid girl up.

"Well."

The word was said in an icy voice that sent a chill up Cate's spine. She closed her eyes briefly, then pulled away. "Hello, Isabelle."

Both she and George turned toward the door, where an elegant woman in a dark plum dress stood poised, her ash-blond hair swept away from a perfect face. She wore heels; Cate could barely manage to walk across a floor without tripping in them, yet she knew her sister wore them every day. She walked across the wooden floor of the parlor, her purple heels clicking as she made her way in front of her sister.

Isabelle looked at her, entirely expressionless. "Welcome home, little sister."

Cate smiled, trying to hide the sudden rise of distaste and hint of fear that her sister always brought on. "Thanks."

Cate glanced down her sister's lanky form, which was showing signs of something disturbing. To her, at least. "Congratulations?" she asked, nodding towards her sister's stomach, hoping she was wrong.

Isabelle tilted her head. "Yes. Thank you. Matthias and I are quite pleased. It's a girl." She may have been discussing wallpaper.

Cate waited, but her sister said nothing else. "You remember George." It wasn't a question; they had been in school together, after all.

Isabelle nodded. "Of course. Welcome to our home, George. Thank you for finding my sister."

There was another long pause, which Cate broke. "Where are Mum and Dad? And Grandmother?"

Isabelle blinked. "Were you not told? Mrs. O'Bannon should have informed you."

Cate grimaced. "I don't think she believed me when I told her this was my home."

Isabelle glanced at the sundress, which Cate had been so proud of mere hours before. "I can understand that. Mother and Father are sitting with Grandmother. She's ill. Likely dying, the Healers say, but Father won't believe them."

Cate reeled backwards. "Dying?" she whispered, reaching blindly for George's hand. "She's...she's ill?"

Isabelle sighed. "I suppose I should take you to them. Follow me."

She turned and stalked out of the room, her heels echoing in the silent room. George waited until she was around the corner before pulling Cate in for a hug.

"Everything's going to be fine. Don't worry. You'll see."

Cate shuddered. "This was a mistake." She pressed her face against his chest. "This was all a mistake."