Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

Sylvia returned from London and her mother’s funeral, and was shocked to find how little had changed. It felt like there should be a giant hole in the middle of the Great Hall, reminding everyone that Sarah Vance was no more, but the world moved on.

Umbridge managed to push through more and more Educational Decrees, each one becoming more ridiculous than the last. Sylvia was surprised that one forcing her to attend class hadn’t been announced, but then again, in Umbridge’s radar she barely registered. If Harry Potter had done it, he’d be expelled.

Christmas came with all the Weasleys and Harry disappearing overnight, due to Arthur Weasley being attacked. Sylvia and Matilda had chosen to stay at the school, neither wanting to face a Christmas in the flat without their mother. Since it really was just the two of them and Alicia, they often let Matilda into the Gryffindor common room. Matilda had been more distant with her friends since her mother’s death.

When all the students returned, Sylvia continued to spend time with her sister, now studying with her in the Library. About a week after the start of term, Sylvia sat playing with a silver necklace George had given her for Christmas, not looking at the Transfiguration book open in front of her.

“Syl?”

“Hm.”

“Where’d you get that?”

Sylvia dropped the necklace back onto her chest. “Get what?”

Matilda gave her a look. “That thing that you were just playing with.”

“Oh.” Sylvia blushed slightly. She retrieved the pendant, a tiny owl. “George gave it to me for Christmas. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Matilda sighed. “Just shag him, already.”

Next to her, Alicia snorted.

“Language, Matilda.” Sylvia said. “I expect better from you.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“What subject. There’s no subject.”

Alicia rolled her eyes. “Come on, Syl. You’ve got to know.”

“Know what?”

“See, this is why I’m the smarter twin.” Matilda sighed. “The tension between you and George is so strong, I’m pretty sure I failed McGonagall’s last quiz just by being in the vicinity.”

“Come off it.”

“He sits with us all the time for meals.” Alicia said.

“Yeah, cause Fred wants to sit with Angelina. And Lee wants to sit with Matty.”

“And you’re always going over your potions notes with him.”

“Yeah, cause he’s useless at potions, but he needs them for the joke shop - ”

Matilda smirked at her sister’s feeble arguments. “And now there’s this necklace. Next it’ll be a ring - “

“Will both of you stop it?” Sylvia demanded, her face a red that would put the person in question to shame. Alicia giggled uncontrollably as Matilda smirked. “George doesn’t fancy me - “

“Oh, notice how it’s George doesn’t fancy her, not she doesn’t fancy him - “

“Stop it!” Sylvia protested as Alicia laughed harder. “Now is not the time for these thoughts. Mum’s gone and NEWTs are around the corner and next thing you know there will be an Educational Decree against dating.”

Matilda rolled her eyes and Alicia stopped giggling for a moment. “Alright, Syl. We’ll back off. For about twenty minutes.”

“You mention this again and I’ll hex you.”

Behind the shelf directly behind Sylvia, George leaned against the books and looked at the ceiling with a smile on his lips, the book he had come to find hanging loosely at his side. His heart was rising like it had grown wings.

He just had to wait for her to be ready.

~*~

Sylvia had gotten everything in order surprisingly quickly. Once the kitchen was stocked with food, she cleaned out the shop downstairs. Using the three years of rent money from Evelyn that had accumulated in her Gringotts vault, Sylvia brought the supplies she’d need to reopen the shop. Now all she had to do was wait for all the flowers to grow. Even with magic it would take a month for everything to be ready. She planned to open two days before Valentine’s.

She still hadn’t managed to clear out the room she had once shared with her sister. She kept the door shut, in fact. Even if she tried to reason with herself, there was just too much guilt there.

Even though she now had coffee in her apartment, Sylvia continued to go to ‘The Wild Rose Tea Room’ for breakfast everyday. She liked sitting with Evelyn and George, and the black lab Sherlock, reading the paper and talking. Even though she had only been there for a week, every morning brought something new.

A very aged Madam Malkin stopped by one day to complain about the dreaded Malfoys taking over her shop the day before. On Wednesday a small country witch named Jessica King came in with a delivery of fresh vegetables, and sat down for coffee before leaving. Evelyn laughed for half an hour after Tom’s nephew Brian stopped by and asked her on a date. Evelyn had the self control to politely decline and show him out before laughing, unlike George and Sylvia who couldn’t hide their amusement.

On Saturday night Sylvia was reading a novel without paying the slightest attention to it, considering going to The Leaky Caldron for a drink, when she started to hear music playing through the ceiling. Evelyn’s poker night, she remembered.

Sylvia closed her book, and wrestled with the decision. Evelyn had originally invited her, Sylvia was sure, because she knew Sylvia would be alone. But they were becoming fast friends. And sitting here in this flat, with her dead family everywhere, wasn’t really helping her.

Sylvia ventured up the stairs, and knocked before pushing open the door. Evelyn, George, a short scowling woman, and a tall man with thick black hair looked up from their cards over at Sylvia.

Evelyn removed the thick cigar from her mouth and waved her inside. “Hey. come on in.”

Sylvia softly shut the door behind her.

Evelyn made a chair appear to her right. “We already started this round but we’ll deal you into the next one. Help yourself to a drink. And a cigar, if you want one.”

The tall man rolled his eyes, and spoke with a sharp Canadian accent not unlike Evelyn’s. “Evs, we survived the war, and you kill yourself with cigars.”

“We all die some day.”

Sylvia walked over to the bar, which was stocked with just about everything you could think of. A few of the bottles were probably muggle liquor, as she had never heard of them. Sylvia poured herself some firewhiskey and looked around the apartment.

It had the exact same layout as her own place, except the walls were painted yellow. A large Canadian flag hung behind a dark green couch against the wall. A few scented candles were lit on the low coffee table. Sherlock, the black lab, was curled up on an arm chair. Curiously, Sylvia moved to the mantle to look at the photos sitting there. There weren’t many.

One muggle photo showed a family of four, with a small brunette girl and a slightly younger boy. A wizarding photo showed a young dark haired man, grinning sheepishly at Sylvia, surrounded by a snowy landscape. The third and final photo sat next to a military medal that was on display. A collection of eight wizards and witches in military uniforms stared up at Sylvia defiantly. She recognized Evelyn, and the tall man playing cards. The bottom of the frame bore the legend, Facillis descensus Averno.

“The descent to hell is easy.” Evelyn translated, walking up behind her. “An ancient muggle author wrote that. It’s sort of the precursor to ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions’. Good slogan, eh?”

“You were military?” Sylvia asked.

“Yeah.” Evelyn smiled wryly. “I know, you’d never guess. Come on, soon as George finishes getting a drink we’ll start.”

Evelyn led Sylvia back to the table and when they sat, Evelyn picked up her glass of gold liquid with ice. “George, bring that bottle of scotch with you!”

“The bottle of what?”

“The one labeled Belvini.” She looked around. “Syl, I don’t know if you’ve met my chef, Jackie.”

The scowling woman nodded. The scowl, Sylvia realised, wasn’t intentional. It was just there.

“And this is Ian. He was the leader of our unit.”

Ian stopped shuffling the cards to extend a hand and shake Sylvia’s. His eyes lingered on her scar. “Pleasure.”

George returned, handing the bottle to Evelyn, and sat between Sylvia and Jackie. Ian dealt cards and Evelyn picked up her cigar again. Sherlock padded over and took a few slurps of the saucer of scotch Evelyn had poured for him and then sat with his head in his mistress’ lap. She scratched behind his ears mindlessly.

“What are we playing?” Sylvia asked.

“Rummy.” Evelyn said. “You know it?”

Sylvia nodded and sipped her whiskey. Once all of the cards were dealt, Sylvia looked at her hand. It wasn’t terrible.

The game, Sylvia quickly realized, was completely rigged. Everyone at that table was a terrible cheat, and the trick seemed to be to get away with it. Jackie didn’t say a word, but every now and then scowled at her employer accusingly. George was fond of hiding cards up his sleeve, Evelyn giggled like a maniac every time she was caught, and Ian was usually the one to catch everyone at the table.

But there were rules at play. Everyone won at least one hand. And Sylvia was reassured that when they played for money no one ever won or lost too big. The record player in the corner seemed to be changing records of its own accord, and after about five drinks Jackie managed a smile.

“I wanna know!” Evelyn sang along loudly to a song that Sylvia had never heard before. “Have you everrrrr seeeeeen the rainnnnn?”

George laughed loudly at her while Ian shook his head. “She always does this to this song.” he told Sylvia. “Even when she’s sober. Trust me, long trips with her are hell.”

“I wanna know! Have you everrrrrr seeeeeen the rainnnn? Comin’ down, on a sunny day.”

George comfortably put an arm around Sylvia, and she was overwhelmed by the smell of him again. She closed her eyes to push it away. He was her friend, like he had always been. He had Angelina now…

Now George was singing along with Evelyn, and Sylvia couldn’t help but to smile at how horrible he was at it. And for a moment, there were no scars or ghosts or burdens. They were just having a friendly card game with friends, and slowly getting drunker.

Evelyn lit a third cigar and dragged Jackie up to dance with her to a Weird Sisters song. Sylvia slowly fell forward and closed her eyes. She was so tired, and she felt so heavy.

“No, I’ve got her.” George said quietly. “Really.”

“You sure? She can sleep on the couch.”

“It’s just downstairs. I should go home anyway. Night all.”

Sylvia felt odd as she was picked up and slowly carried. She nestled into a broad chest and breathed in cinnamon and cloves. Down the stairs. He paused to open the door to her flat.

“My mum’s room.” Sylvia muttered. “Not Matty’s room. Mum’s room.”

She didn’t know if he heard, or knew which was which. George carried her into the bedroom that had the open door and gently put her on the bed. He leaned over and kissed her forehead and she sighed. She was probably out cold. She had drank a lot upstairs.

George slowly backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He looked sadly around the small flat. It seemed so lonely. Not unlike his own.

She wasn’t the bold, brave, sweet witch he had known in school. And yet she was. And he could have sworn, upstairs, he had seen for just a second, her eyes shimmer like quicksilver again.

Shaking her out of his head, George left the flat for his own. He couldn’t afford to be sucked in. She was his friend. Just like always. And he had Angelina.

Guilt rose in his throat, but not because he was with Angelina and thinking about someone else.