Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

It was breakfast time on the day of the first Hogsmeade trip when things started to change.

The sky looked bright and overly blue, meaning that it would be a chilly walk to the village. Fred was swearing as he had just spilled coffee all over his pants.

“This would happen on the day I take Angelina out.” he grumbled, fumbling for his wand. “Fucking hell.”

George heard a musical laugh and turned. Sylvia and Alicia were clamboring into seats a little ways down the table. He looked back across the table at Fred and Lee.

“What’s our plan, Lee? Before that meeting Hermione was talking about.”

Lee looked up from his toast. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m going with Matilda.”

Fred spilled his coffee into his lap again and George dropped his spoon, sending egg yolk everywhere.

“Head girl Matilda Vance?” George clarified as his twin started swearing again.

“Yes.”

“Sylvia’s sister. In Slytherine house.”

Lee rolled his eyes. “She’s actually very nice. And smart.”

“Her sister is nice and smart. Matilda’s out to put us in detention for life.”

Lee ignored him and went back to his toast.

“What am I supposed to do today?” George asked incredulously. “Did we change the date of Valentine’s and nobody told me?”

“Get a girl.” Fred said.

“I would, if you hadn’t shagged half the female population of Hogwarts.”

“George, I think it’s time for you to learn to get on on your own.”

George just rolled his eyes and started trying to clean up the egg yolk that had exploded. Eventually Fred moved down the table to get Angelina, and Lee left to wait in the Great Hall for Matilda. With a sigh, George pulled on his cloak and trailed a few meters behind Sylvia and Alicia on their way out.

“No, go on ahead.” Alicia was saying.

“Are you sure? I can wait.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Hey, maybe i’ll run into that cute Ravenclaw on my way.”

“Hey, maybe you should figure out his name first.”

“Didn’t i tell you? It’s ‘Hey, you’.”

Sylvia laughed musically again. “Alright. I’ll meet you at the Hog’s Head?”

“Sure.”

Alicia smiled at George as she turned and headed back up the grand staircase. George quickened his pace to catch up with the blonde. “Hey, Syl.”

She looked around and smiled. “Oh, hey, George. No Fred today?”

“I’ve been abandoned for the fairer sex. Angelina.” he added at her quizzical look. “Although I don’t know if i’d call Angelina fair to her face.”

Sylvia snorted. “No, she’d do a number on your ribs for that.”

“And Lee is out with your sister, apparently.”

“Yes, she’s very excited. She’s liked him for a while.”

“Your sister gets excited? I thought she was made of stone.”

Sylvia smacked him in the chest and he grinned. She shook her head and smiled. “You’ve got something yellow on your cheek.”

“Yep, that’s me.” George sighed, swiping at his cheek. “Always ending up with egg on my face.”

She smirked and reached up. “Here, let me get it.”

She looked different today. Her makeup wasn’t done and her hair fought the confines of the headband she had put on. But her eyes shimmered like pools of quicksilver and she seemed...relaxed.

“You look really pretty today.” he said as she succeeded in getting the egg off his cheek.

“Careful. You might end up with egg on your face again.”

But she had turned slightly pink and he grinned at the accomplishment as they turned back to the path.

~*~

Sylvia’s health had drastically improved over the two months she stayed with Molly and Arthur. Molly had been terrified, the first time she had to help the young witch out of the bath. She was all skin and bones, and aside from three other knife scars on her legs and stomach there was a dark black stain on her skin, just above her heart. Scar tissue, a remnant of the black magic used to torture her again and again. She’d be at the risk of heart and lung failure for the rest of her life. Molly sat down and cried for half an hour after that, remembering all the pain of the war.

But she had filled out, and she was up and walking around and helping Molly with housework. Her hair, though still streaked with white, looked healthier. She was starting to make plans to leave The Burrow.

Before her mother had died, she owned a small florist's shop in Diagon Alley. Matilda and Sylvia had grown up between flowers and lush green leaves, learning to care for plants and make arrangements. Sylvia never thought she’d return to the shop, or the tiny flat above it. She had wanted to study wandlore. Ollivander had accepted her as an apprentice…

Are you sure you want to do this? What about your dreams?

Sylvia put down the evergreen boughs she had been arranging as a centerpiece for Christmas dinner. She didn’t have anything left, except the shop and the flat. No family. No dreams.

The door opened and Sylvia looked up and smiled at Ginny and Harry, who had just come in from the cold with flushed cheeks. Ginny grinned back and ran over to hug Sylvia. Ginny and Harry visited most often out of all the Weasley children.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be here or not.” Ginny said, letting the blonde go.

Sylvia snorted. “As if your mother would let me leave for Christmas, no matter how full the house gets.”

“Who is already here?”

“Percy came this morning, Bill and Fleur showed up half an hour ago with Victoire. Ron and Hermione are running late, I’ll bet they’re having a hard time getting away from her parents. Molly said that Teddy and Andromeda should be here soon. Charlie isn’t coming, your mum’s upset so don’t say anything about it.”

“Is George coming?”

George had not been to see his parents at all during Sylvia’s stay. He claimed to be busy with the shop, or have other obligations. The firm line that Ginny’s mouth had turned to showed the truth. He had been avoiding his family.

“He says he is.”

“Good. I’m going to say hi to Mum.”

She hurried towards the sitting room, where Molly was directing Percy and Arthur in decorating the room. Harry moved forward to hug Sylvia. “How are you holding up?”

He had gotten the full story out of her about a month ago, and had sworn his silence. Not that he wanted everyone to know what she had been through. Harry knew better than anyone that sometimes the past had to stay behind you. And Sylvia seemed determined to keep hers that way.

“Alright.” she said, looking back down at her centerpiece. “I think I’m moving back to my flat on the fourth. Try and get the shop reopened.”

“Are you sure? There’s other wand makers you could apprentice with.”

“I don’t think i can go back to that.” she said quietly. “I just...that’s Matilda’s place, now.”

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. Who was he to say anything?

Molly bustled in with her arms full of ribbons. “Hello, Harry dear.” she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Ginny’s gone to put your things in Ron’s room. I think I have Percy convinced on sleeping in George’s room so you don’t have to move, Sylvia. Ginny’s room is just too small for you, her and Hermione.”

“I don’t mind.” Sylvia said quickly, thinking about how quickly the house could be demolished with George and Percy sharing a room. “Really, Molly. All i need is a square of carpet.”

“But it won’t be - “

“It will be fine.” Sylvia insisted, moving the centerpiece to the center of the table. “I’ll go move my things now.”

The crooked house seemed to be bursting at the seams with people after the arrival of Ron and Hermione. Sylvia was jumping to her feet every three seconds to help Molly, feeling awkward at being the outsider during a holiday. Ron almost knocked her down the stairs as he carried extra blankets and pillows up to his room for Harry. Molly angrily scolded her youngest son and sat Sylvia down with a glass of wine, refusing any more of her help. Shortly after Sylvia was up and running to dump water on the small fire Victoire had started with her father’s stolen wand.

“‘ow many times, Victoire?” Fleur demanded. “Non! Don’t touch!”

Victoire burst into tears that were only stopped when Teddy showed up to play.

Molly kept checking out the window every few minutes for George’s frame, but instead saw the snow getting heavier and heavier. Sylvia overheard Ginny whispering fiercely to her father, “He’s breaking her heart.”

“He’ll be here. Eventually.” Arthur tried to placate.

“He better. Or I’ll go get him myself. And believe me, he doesn’t want that.”

Suddenly, Molly shrieked. “Oh, Ronnie, why didn’t you tell me?”

Everyone looked around to see Molly tightly hugging Hermione and Ron with red ears. “Well, we were going to, eventually.”

“What’s going on?” Percy demanded, coming in. “I was writing an important letter to - “

“Your brother’s getting married!”

That did it. The livingroom was a whirlwind of people getting up and moving to hug Ron and Hermione. Sylvia stayed put on the couch next to Fleur, waiting for space to stand. And in the middle of that, George came in, covered in snow, a towering pile of presents settling itself in the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Did Bill knock over the tree again?”

“OH, GEORGE!” Molly cried, throwing her arms around him, then she stepped back and smacked him upside the head.

“Ow, Mum - “

“You don’t visit. You don’t write. You’re lucky this is all you’re getting.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy with the shop - “

“Your brother says there’s hardly been any new products in a year.” Molly snarled.

George glared at Ron, who looked at his feet. “Thanks, Ron.”

Molly roughly look his damp cloak off his shoulders and stomped around him to hang it in the kitchen. George looked up from shaking his father’s hand. “Well, Merry Christ….mas…”

George had caught sight of Sylvia, sitting on the couch. With her new scars and her white hair and the nervous expression on her face. “Sylvia.” he said hoarsley.

Sylvia felt like she was seventeen again and for once she and Matilda had dressed identically to confuse Lee Jordan. But George knew. George always knew. Which was why she hadn’t seen him since she made the fatal choice.

“Hey George.” she said, standing as he moved towards her.

His family started awkwardly making conversation, trying to avoid watching the pair of old friends.

“I thought you were dead.”

Sylvia smiled wryly. “It’s a long story.”

“I paid for the funeral.”

“Yes, thank you. Harry told me. I’m sure Matty would have found that hysterical.” Sylvia took a deep breath. “I really wanted to go, you know. But I had to...well, with what everyone was thinking at the time I doubt I’d - “

George cut her off by pulling her into a long, tight hug.

Sylvia suddenly was sixteen again, and she had gotten far too drunk at the Yule Ball, and her date had abandoned her, and George was supporting her as he took her back up to Gryffindor tower. He smelled like cinnamon and cloves and wine as he put her in his bed and went back downstairs to sleep on a couch in the common room.

“I’m glad to see you.” he said quietly into her shoulder.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He released her and looked at her for a moment. “I need a drink.” he muttered, turning away.

Sylvia smiled wryly and turned away, picking up her glass. Ginny appeared at her side. “You okay?” she asked quietly.

Sylvia nodded and hid her face in her wine. She had prepared herself for this, she knew she’d have to see him again at some point. She knew he would have changed.

It was still hard.

In the kitchen George knocked back a shot of firewhiskey and poured himself another one. Molly bustled in, pretending to check on her turkey.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “Why did no one tell me?”

“We wanted to save you the shock. Especially before she was healthy.” Molly said curtly. “Ron and Harry made the decision.”

“I’m in shock now!”

Molly was fired up. “I told you to come round. I told you we all wanted to see you, and tell you about the changes that have been happening. I don’t know why you’ve been avoiding all of us, George, but maybe you’d be in the loop if you had visited!”

“Mum - “

“We’ve all been in pain. You’re not the only one who suffers.”

George was taken aback by the tears in his mother’s eyes. “Mum, I - “

Molly put her face in her hands. George moved forward and sat her down, then pushed his firewhiskey into her hands.

“I’m sorry, Mum.” he said quietly as she gulped the drink down with a wince. “I just...I know it must be hard for you all to see me.”

Fresh tears appeared in Molly’s eyes, but before George could pour her another drink she moved forward and threw her arms around him. “Don’t you ever think like that.” she sobbed into his shirt. “Don’t.”

But it was true, he thought as he tried to calm him down and eventually passed her off to his father when he came in to see what was taking so long. He was the carbon copy. The living memory.

He went back into the sitting room and stared unfocused at Sylvia talking to Ginny. Sylvia noticed and cast him a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The scar on her cheek looked so angry.

Was she just as torn up as he was?