Doesn't Mean a Thing

Elise was sitting in the Great Hall with Hermione. Hermione had taken to asking her for help on her Charms work-as she had been doing for many Gryffindors. Elise was highly skilled at it; had she not had a knack for Transfiguration, it’d be her favorite subject.

“So do you understand the spell?” Elise asked Hermione, brushing her hair out of her face. She had grown very fond of the girl; in many ways, she reminded Elise of herself. They had the same bushy light brown curls, even though Hermione’s were out of control. They both were top of their class, and Hermione strained for knowledge as she did.

“Sort of-I just don’t get this one component.” She commented. Just as Elise was about to take the book from the girl, the twins bounded through the doors.

“Yeah!” they cried in unison. The whole hall stood up cheering for their red haired heroes. Elise rolled her eyes and handed the book back to Hermione as she approached her boyfriend and his brother.

“And what is that?” she asked them, snippily.

“It’s an aging potion, m’dear.” George said, kissing her. Elise chuckled and pushed him away.

“It’s not going to work.” Hermione chanted.

The boys surrounded her. “And why’s that, Granger?” they both asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes; Elise laughed. “You see that? That’s an age line.”

“So?” Fred asked.

Hermione sighed. “Someone as smart as Dumbledore would not be able to be foiled by something as dimwitted as an aging potion.”

George chuckled. “And that’s why it’s so brilliant.”

“Because it’s so pathetically dimwitted.” Fred said, smiling. He winked at Elise as the two downed the potion. They jumped into the age line as people clapped for them. But as they dropped their names in, something odd happened.

They were both shot back by flames; long beards grew on them. Elise ran over to George and took his hand, but burst into laughter. She was doubling over.

“What?” George screamed, fingering his beard. “You said it would work!”

Fred jumped up; they started hitting each other. Elise stopped laughing when she realized the fight was getting serious. “Oi, you two! Que le fait de baiser? Arrêtez de lutter!” she yelled.

They battled for a few more seconds, until Fred threw a punch right into George’s eye. George let out a groan and fell to the ground with a thud. Elise shrieked and ran to her
boyfriend’s side. Everyone stopped cheering.

“Oh fuck, George?” Fred panicked.

“Stop it! You’ve hurt him!” Elise snapped. Dumbledore walked in.

“Ah, I see you two have tried aging spells. You see, it doesn’t work. But your beards are fantastic. Miss Seymour, would you mind escorting the two to the hospital wing? Tut, Mr. Weasley, I think you should help her carry your twin.”

The two got on their way. Elise slung one of George’s arms around her shoulder; Fred took the other.

“Are you mad?” he asked weakly.

Elise nodded. “Oui, I told you two to stop fighting! But George never listens.”

They got to the hospital wing, where Madame Pomfrey shrieked. “That is the third case today! Mr. Weasley, have a seat. Miss Seymour, please set the other Weasley on the bed. He might take some more time to come around.”

She started rubbing a paste over Fred’s bruises and muttered a spell that took away his white hair and beard. Elise sighed as his red hair came back.

“Is George okay?” Fred asked. “I didn’t mean to hit him that hard.”

Pomfrey clicked her tongue as she rubbed paste over his black eye. “It should be gone in the hour. Your beards are gone as well.” She said primly. “Best to let him sleep here for a while; he’ll be in bad shape.”

Elise sat at his bedside, stroking his long red hair. Really, she told him to cut it. He didn’t listen. Then again, he never did.

“I’m a git.” Fred said miserably, moving next to his twin.

Elise sighed. “You’re not a git. You made a mistake. It was git-like, but you really aren’t one.” She said softly, stroking George’s face with one hand. The other was still wrapped around his.

“You really care about George.” Fred noted.

Elise nodded. “Oui, part of me feels like we’re kind of supposed to be together, you know? Sometimes we fight, albeit a lot, but we usually get through it.”

“You’re really in love, aren’t you?” Fred asked softly.

Elise was taken aback. “In love? I, well, I don’t know if it can be called that yet. I have not known your brother long enough for it to be so.” She mused. “Although he does seem to love me. He tells me he does. I feel bad I cannot say it in return.”

“Why don’t you?” Fred asked.

Elise shrugged. “If there is one lesson my mother has taught me, it is that I should not speak of love if it did not exist.”

Fred smiled. “You’re wise, you know. That’s what George admires about you. At least, that is what I admire. George sometimes overlooks that.”

Elise’s mood soured. “Yes, sometimes your brother overlooks a lot of things.”

Fred sighed. “Trust me, Elise, it’s not just because you’re gorgeous. You’re beautiful, but he loves you because you make him feel special. Growing up, we were always Gred and Forge, but now he’s treated in a way I’ll never be.”

“Aren’t you in love with Angelina?” she asked softly.

Fred looked away. “What I have with Angelina is…it’s comfortable.”

Elise shrugged. “Another lesson my mother taught me is to never settle for comfortable.”

Fred chuckled. “Your mum seems to be a wise person.”

Elise looked away again. “She was a wise person.” Fred gave her a weird look and she sighed, knowing she had to explain. “My mother died when I was ten years old. She died of a disease known to many veela. It affected her so because it runs in my family. My grandmother, her mother, and many veela before me have had it. You die. It’s a very simple death, painless they tell me. There is no cure.”

Fred gasped. “Die? What kind of disease?”

Elise looked to George on the bed. “Much folklore says it is heartbreak. Veela die as their partner die, which is why most stay alone. My father is not dead, but when his neglect to her reached its capacity, she fell ill and died. It all happened within a week.”

“Do you have it?” Fred asked, wide eyed.

Elise shook her head. “I do not, at least not that I know of. I’ve never been in love, so I wouldn’t know. But my grandmother, a full veela as well, but not so affected because my grandfather was full veela. They live long life spans, so they do not feel the disease until late age. She said that because I am the first in my generation in a long time to be half, it won’t affect me, but we are not sure.”

“Your dad must feel terrible.” Fred mused.

Elise nodded. “Oui, he does. After learning the cause of her death, he has gone above and beyond to make sure I am happy. Every will of mine has been attended. He cares too much to say anything of my mother. She was his one great love and he could never look at another woman. My Aunt Laurel worries for him.”

Suddenly, George started stirring. “What happened?” he asked.

Elise kissed his cheeks. “You blacked out.” She said.

George kissed her back as Fred stared, wistfully. He wished he had someone like Elise.

*~*~*~*

Elise was walking through the castle when she saw Fleur sitting alone. “Elise, I ‘ave been looking for you! You are always with that boyfriend of yours, I can never speak to you.” She complained.

Elise hugged her. “I am so sorry Fleur.”

Fleur chuckled. “It is quite alright. I love your British accent, yes? It is so cute.” She said, pinching her cheeks. “Anyway, I have entered the tournament!”

Elise groaned. “Not you too.” She complained.

Fleur held her hand. “Be ‘appy for me, please?” she asked tearfully. “I will be so upset if you are not.”

Elise sighed. “Oh Fleur, I’m happy for you.” She lied.

Fleur kissed her cheeks. “All will be well, you shall see.”