Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

Sylvia and Matilda sat on opposite ends of the couch in their mother’s flat. It had been a long day. They started the morning with a meeting with Dumbledore, had taken the train home in silence. Everything would change now.

Dumbledore had given them assignments for the Order of the Phoenix. They worked within the capacity of the paths that they were about to embark on, post schooling. But at the same time, the assignments were wrong.

Sylvia, who had been accepted to work with Ollivander as an apprentice, would take him into hiding in two weeks time. She was charged with keeping him and the knowledge he had safe. Matilda, using connections she had made in Slytherine, was getting a job in the Ministry. No one in the Order was to know that she was a member. She would work from the inside, sabotaging the work the Death Eaters were doing.

Sylvia studied her sister. She should be the one going into hiding. Matilda was smart, but she was a good girl. She didn’t know the first thing about spying, or how to lie. If she was caught, which she most certainly was going to be, she’d be tortured for information then murdered. She just wasn’t brave enough for the task in front of her. She wasn’t Sylvia.

But she could be Sylvia.

“Matty, we need to switch places again.” Sylvia said.

Matilda gave her sister a shrewd look. “Something wrong with the view on that end of the couch?”

“No. We should switch again. Like we did before. You should take Ollivander into hiding, and i’ll go spy at the ministry.”

Matilda snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”

“No, really. I’d make the better spy. And you’d be a better protector. And we’re identical, so we don’t have to worry about the limits of charms or potions. It would be so easy.”

Matilda shook her head. “This is mad. People will know!”

“No, they won’t.” Sylvia smiled wryly. “None of our friends will want to associate with you once you show where your loyalties lie. Not even Lee, which is why you broke it off with him. And if we do this carefully, we can swap right before I’m supposed to take Ollivander away. That won’t give anyone the chance to find out.”

Matilda looked at her sister fearfully. Sylvia’s eyes shone with the simple brilliance of the idea. “What about George?”

Sylvia looked away. “He...you’ll just have to avoid him. He can’t know.”

“He should know what you’re doing.”

Sylvia shook her head. “No. It’s fine. Come on, Matilda. We can do this!”

And then you’ll live, Sylvia thought.

~*~

Sylvia stopped attending breakfast at Evelyn’s, instead focusing on getting the shop up to her mother’s standards. It was hard work, growing flowers and making arrangements and running the floor. She woke up early, opened the shop, and spent hours after closing doing work.

Most nights she spent in the company of Evelyn, who seemed determined to distract her. They drank at the Leaky Cauldron, talking to strangers. Or they hung out with Ian and played cards. Jackie, who finally started speaking to Sylvia, started to teach her how to cook.

One night they joined Hermione, Ginny and Molly for a party planning session at The Burrow. Hermione’s engagement party was just around the corner, and almost nothing was ready. Hermione couldn’t book a space for the party, so Evelyn had volunteered her shop space. There were floor plans to go over, and floral arrangements, and food. For the majority of the meeting, Sylvia talked with Ginny, as the Quidditch League was on break because of the cold weather.

But each night, Sylvia lay awake. She was tortured by what she had done, what she had been through. And the one person she thought might accept her in spite of that wished she had never come back.

Maybe she should have pulled an Evelyn, she thought glumly as she stared at her watch. It was three am. Gone to another country and never come back.

George continued to show up at Evelyn’s shop for breakfast. On Valentine’s day, after a two day hangover and much thought over a heavy heart, he broke it off with Angelina. She was upset, but he knew that eventually she’d be better off.

Sylvia was right. He couldn’t be his brother.

It was about two days before the party when George realized his mistake.

“I don’t have a date for the party.” he told Evelyn.

She peered over the edge of her paper at him. “Is this unusual?”

“Yes!”

She rolled her eyes.

“Will you go with me?”

“George Weasley, take that back before I hex you.”

“What?”

“First of all, I’m hosting the damn thing.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah, oh. Second of all, why don’t you ask the girl you actually want to take?”

George crumpled. “She doesn’t want to see me.”

“And whose fault is that?” she asked loftily, giving Sherlock his second scone of the morning.

“I know. I screwed up. I’m a complete bloody idiot. But it’s not like I can just apologize to her…”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. Things with girls are never that simple.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Yes, George. They can be. Just apologize to her, tell her you’re still madly in love with her, and that you want to try to make her happy again. Sometimes, it’s that easy. You don’t need to go all Pride and Prejudice and fix her entire life for her.”

George decided she was making one of her muggle references again, and decided to ignore it. “You talk like someone who’s never been in love.”

“I’ve been in love.” Evelyn said shortly.

George shook his head. “Not real love. Not life-changing, I’d do anything love.”

Evelyn ignored him. “Point is, either ask her to go to the party with you, or use the party to fix it. Or just fuck off completely and screw up your whole life by not being with the one person you’re supposed to be with. You’re basically on your third chance, and there probably won’t be another one.”

“Great pep-talk. Thanks. Really. I feel so confident now.”

Evelyn laughed.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Ian’s awful at pep-talks. I used to give him so much crap, back in the day.” She sighed and stood, and Sherlock looked at his mistress hopefully. “Maybe I’m just bad at advice.”

“That’s not true. You’re the best advisor I’ve got.”

She smiled faintly. “Well, compared to Ron, I’m sure I am.” She put her entire mug of coffee down in front of Sherlock. “Really, George. Bite the bullet.”

“The what?”

She sighed. “Take the dragon by the horns?”

~*~

George looked into the mirror and ran a comb through his hair. A picture of Fred winked up at him from the dresser, but looking in the mirror was almost the same thing.

“This is it.” he muttered to himself. “The big one. The one we’ve all been waiting for.”

He smoothed the front of his dress robes and tried without success to cover his missing ear. He cracked a grin at the mirror.

Apologize. Tell her how he felt. Make her happy.

Easy.