Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

Alicia and Sylvia sat in a corner of the common room, watching Fred and George bask in the attention in the aftermath of their fireworks display. George looked over at Sylvia and smiled, and she smiled back then sipped her butterbeer.

“Have you told him yet?” Alicia asked.

“Told who what?”

Alicia gave her a look, and Sylvia decided to end the charade.

“No.” she said quietly, watching a majestic glittering dragon soar past the tower window. “Not yet.”

“Well, you better get a move on.” Alicia said sharply. “They aren’t looking to make trouble. They’re looking to get expelled. If you don’t move fast, you’ll never have him.”

But Sylvia struggled with the task. How was it that she could stand up and walk out of Umbridge’s class without looking back, but she couldn’t tell a boy she fancied him? It was a question of the worst type of bravery - being honest with yourself.

And he didn’t help her much. Every time she saw him, he distracted her with the grand finale plans. Or begging her to explain her potions notes to him. Or by making her laugh. She knew he fancied her. He had given her all the proof she needed. Now it came down to acknowledging it.

Sylvia was sitting in the library by herself when George dropped into the seat across from her. “Hey.”

She looked up and smiled. “Hey.”

“So, it’s tonight. The big one. The one we’ve all been waiting for.”

Sylvia smiled at the mock up of Oliver Wood’s pre-game speech. Fred and George had a habit of reciting it before every big moment. And if the big one was coming, she had to have her say first.

“George, can I talk to you about something?” she asked quietly.

He glanced at the time. “Actually, no. I’m sorry, Syl. I just came by to tell you...meet me at the bottom of the stairs of the third floor corridor at five o’clock, okay?”

“Er, okay.” Sylvia said, confused.

“Great.” he stood again. “See you at five.”

“Right.”

“Don’t be late!”

“I won’t.”

With a sinking heart, she watched him leave. She’d never get this right. Pushing disappointment away she went back to her essay. She’d just have to get over it.

At quarter to five she rolled up her essay and packed away her books, and meandered towards where George had asked her to wait. What the hell could he want?

A redhead skidded around the corner and Sylvia looked up with wide eyes. “Fred?”

He stumbled as there was a roaring sound and the castle shook. He quickly wrapped his arms around her. “Bye Syl. Gotta go.”

He sprinted down the steps behind her and Sylvia watched him bemused. “What the - “

“Syl!”

Sylvia turned around and saw George running towards her. “What’s going on?”

When George finally reached her he grabbed her shoulders and crashed his lips onto hers. Sylvia closed her eyes and melted as she kissed him back.

“There he is!”

They broke apart and turned to see a gang of Slytherines advancing. George grinned delightedly. “Sorry, Syl. I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

She looked up at him. “Run!”

He pecked her on the lips once more, grinned, and dashed down the steps. Sylvia wrapped her arms around herself as the Slytherines ran around her, chasing their prey. She smiled faintly and followed the chase slowly down the steps.

Maybe the timing wasn’t perfect, but it really was just so him.

~*~

Life continued. Sylvia had breakfast every morning with George and Evelyn. She kept growing flowers. Soon, she’d be ready to reopen the shop. She bought vases and ribbons and tissue paper. She practiced making arrangements.

“You have to tell him.” Evelyn would remind her every day.

Sylvia would shake her head.

But that day came.

The day Sylvia opened her shop arrived, and she was mobbed by wizards buying roses for their witches. At the end of the night, she locked the door and started to sweep the floor by hand. It would take longer, but she didn’t want to go up to her flat just yet.

Someone rapped on the window and she looked up, ready to wave them away, when she saw it was George. She smiled and aimed her wand at the door, which unlocked.

“Willing to make one last transaction?” he asked.

“Sure.” she smiled. He came in and shook his red hair out. “Is it raining out?”

“A bit. Looks like it will storm, though.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s warming up a bit.” Sylvia put aside her broom. “What can I get you?”

“A thirteen roses?”

“Sure.”

She moved over to her display of roses and picked out thirteen, then carefully wrapped the stems in red tissue paper and tied a gold ribbon around them.

“There we are. Ten sickles.”

He handed over the silver and studied them while she moved over to put the money in the cash drawer. They were all quite beautiful. He quickly found the fullest one and carefully pulled it away from the others.

When Sylvia turned back around, he held the single rose out to her. “For you.”

She smiled and took it. “Thank you.” she whispered.

Then she looked at the remaining dozen and her smile faded. “George, why are you with Angelina?”

He froze.

“It’s just that...she was always with Fred. And now...I don’t know.” She turned away. “Nevermind.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand. “Tell me.”

Everything that happened between them at school rushed back to her. And all the bravery she searched for in the weeks leading up to his grand exit from Hogwarts found her now. And here it was.

“It just seems like you’re trying to make up for his absence.” She said. “And it’s just not fair. To you. Or her.”

His face became stone. “I don’t feel guilty.”

She gave him a shrewd look. “I never said that. You did.”

The shop was suddenly silent. All they could hear was rain pounding on the windows. The storm had begun.

“I mean, I was honestly always under the impression you were a little afraid of her. Fred always liked her so much.”

“Well, things change.”

“I guess they do.”

“Angelina and I…” he took a deep breath, “we just...we’re what we have left. He left us behind and we both miss him and that brought us together - “

“So you’re replacing him.”

George looked angry. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Yes it was.” She said it with venom, but her eyes were so sad. “You aren’t your brother, George. You can’t be him, especially not for her!”

“We’re identical! No one could - “

“I always could!” she shouted at him. “I could always tell George.”

Thunder clapped and George was shocked as the words crashed over his head. He had said the same thing to her, all those years ago.

“Fred wouldn’t want this for you! Running around, trying to save everyone from him. Hiding from your mother so she won’t see your face. Seeing Angelina so she never has to be without him. But you aren’t him! You always had the softer smile, and you always were awful at potions. And once upon a time, you loved me. And that set you apart from him.”

“So what? You want me to ditch her for you?”

“I never said that.” Sylvia said quietly.

“You were supposed to be dead!” He shouted at her. She shrank back at the words, tears quivering in her eyes. “I buried you. You weren’t supposed to come back! I mourned you, Sylvia! And now here you are again. When i least expect it!”

“And you’d rather I was dead?”

“The view would be a lot clearer.” he snapped.

Tears spilled down her face, and he realized what he had said. “Merlin, Sylvia, I didn’t mean that - “

“Out.” she whispered.

“Syl, I don’t - “

“GET OUT!” she screamed, slashing her wand downward. A vase propelled itself at him. He ducked just in time and it smashed into the window behind him. Another one was already flying towards him, and he ran for it.

Sylvia picked up Angelina’s roses and threw them out the door after him before slamming it shut. The force shattered the glass.

George and Sylvia stood on opposite sides of that door. She was crying while she raised her wand and all the blinds snapped shut, and the glass repaired itself. She sank to the floor of her shop and sobbed.

Outside George stood in the rain, staring at the roses on the ground. There was a bitter lump of truth in his throat, and as many times as he tried to swallow it, he couldn’t.

He turned and slowly walked up the road, passed his flat, and went into the Leaky Cauldron. Ian was sitting at the end of the bar.

“Hey, man.” Ian greeted as George sat next to him. “Get caught in the storm?”

“Something like that.” George muttered. He looked up at Tom. “A bottle of firewhiskey.”

“Women?” Ian guessed.

George knocked back his first shot and nodded.

~*~

The next morning, Evelyn slammed a mug of coffee and her hangover cure down in front of George. The coffee sloshed over the edge of the mug and stained the tablecloth. He squinted up at her. “Alright, Evs?”

She scowled at him and sat, picking up her paper and hiding behind it.

George gagged down the hangover cure, and burnt his mouth on the coffee. When he reached for a scone, she finally exploded. “I can’t believe you!”

It was moments like these when Evelyn reminded George of his mother. Even when she was furious, she’d take care of you. And when she threw down her paper to glare at him, he shrank back in his seat. Now he understood why Ian often said she was the fiercest fighter he had ever met.

“I spent all night comforting Syl, because you’re an unthinking, selfish, insensitive pig, and here you are, hungover, eating like there’s nothing wrong with the world!”

“I’m not - “

“She finally passed out on my couch at four am, crying.” Evelyn snarled. “Because you told her you wished she stayed dead.”

“I didn’t…” his voice faded. Yes, he basically did tell her that. “I didn’t mean it. It was the heat of the moment.”

“And she’s so obviously not over whatever you two had in school, and you’re so pig headed - “

“You think I’m over it?” he snapped at her. “I fancied her for years. And she never noticed. And when she finally did it was too late. And I never…” he paused and swallowed regret, “...I never really got to tell her anything because she ran off to do some mad switch with her sister.”

Evelyn sat back. “And that makes treating her like shit okay?”

“No, of course not, but - “

“There’s only one way to fix this.” She said, standing and clearing her breakfast plate. “So either fix it, or never speak to her again. So that maybe she can get better.”