Thicker Than Blood

"That girl's out walking again." George heard Fred comment casually from the other side of our room. He paused from viciously towel drying his hair to look at him.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, trying not to sound interested. Every night for the past three weeks, a girl has been wandering the streets of Diagon Alley. At first, he had thought she had somewhere to be, or someone to meet, but after watching her for a while, he realized she never went anywhere.

"Yeah," he said. "Bare foot this time. You would think her feet would start to hurt after the first hour or so." He sat down on his bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing it on the floor. George walked over to the window and watched. She was quite pretty, whoever she was. He'd noticed that ages ago. Very petite; fragile looking, even. She'd only come up to mid-chest on him, if that.

She walked slower tonight, as if she were concentrating on something. Her eyebrows were pulled together, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the window sill, chin resting in hand. She twisted her hair into a pony tail, then all of a sudden stopped. A loud sarcastic laugh sounded from her lips and Fred appeared beside his twin.

"Is she off her rocker?" he asked skeptically and George shook his head, though he honestly wondered the same thing.

"I think she's thinking," he said, his eyes never leaving the girl.

"You think she's thinking?" Fred asked and George looked at him briefly; his right eyebrow was quirked and he looked extremely amused. "Are you off your rocker too?"

"Shove off," George grumbled and Fred chuckled under his breath before walking away. As she got closer to the shop, he stepped back. The lamp would outline his figure in the window if he wasn't careful and he didn't want her to know he was watching. She paused and looked directly at the window and George grew very still. He knew her. The light from the window cast her into a yellow glow, her features prominent.

"Fred," George called. "It's Lavinia Farrow."

"No it's not," his twin instantly argued.

"Is too," George insisted. "Come see. She's changed her hair, but that's her."

He came to the window sill quickly and whistled. "Blimey. It is her. She looks so different."

George nodded in agreement, remembering how blonde her hair used to be. She had been in their year at Hogwarts, but she'd been in Hufflepuff. The only classes they'd ever shared had been Herbology. She never said much and she never had any friends, which was a little baffling to any that paid attention to her, which George had on occasion. If he was going to be completely honest with himself, he'd even fancied her a little bit throughout the years.

Angelina and Katie had told the twins that she was stuck up; they'd tried talking to her during classes, but she'd just given them quiet one answered replies. But George didn't think that was it. He'd talked to her once or twice. She just seemed... a little awkward and lost. Like she didn't really know how to relate to other people.

"I wonder why she's here. I thought she was going to end up like Charlie," Fred mused. "I always saw her hanging around Hagrid's hut, helping him out with the animals."

George suddenly smiled and he looked at his brother, a gleam in his eyes. "Only one way to find out, eh?"