|Don't Worry About The Rain
Author: Avita Suicide PM
This is the story of Violet Raine and George Weasley. A story told through both there eyes about how they got from where they where, two seventh years full of separate ambitions, to now, ready to walk down the isle.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance - George W. & OC - Chapters: 8 - Words: 12,986 - Reviews: 15 - Favs: 9 - Follows: 21 - Updated: 05-25-12 - Published: 05-15-11 - id: 6994452
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I look so different now, compared to a few years ago. I almost want to say I look older, that I look like I've lived through what I've lived through and seen what I've seen, but to be honest, I look scared. More scared now then when George and I had to outrun the Inquisitorial Squad only a week before they left. More scared then when I first saw his ear before his brother's wedding. Even more scared then when I went over to the apartment after Fred's death and saw George and the state he was in. My mother says that when you're scared it means you need to run. Flee into the night and try and forget about whatever it is that made you scared in the first place. But she was a Hufflepuff and I was a Gryffindor, so I wont run.
"Violet, dear? Are you almost ready?" Molly stuck her head into the room and looked at me, her eyes almost instantly filling with water, it's been going on like this for about a month now, ever since I started coming around more to finish up planing for the wedding. My own mother was still in America and since I've spent most of my off time either here or at the apartment, she's become like a secondary mother to me. She has that effect on people, she's like an eternal mother. "You look to beautiful. Are you sure you don't want to wear the tiara?"
She turned me to he mirror and starting rearranging my curls, putting a few over my shoulder then moving them back, then doing it again. I shook my head and smoothed the skirt of my dress again. "No, I'm not really into the bling thing, you know that." She nodded and left my hair alone, settling with putting some over my shoulder and leaving the rest to go down my back. "My boys with there blondes." She laughed slightly and lifted my vale off of the bed and walked towards me. "The red hair will be weeded out of our family soon." I smiled softly, and shook my head.
"Molly, the red hair gene in the Weasley family is almost as strong as the magic gene, I highly doubt that there will ever not be a red head in your family." She smiled and put the vale on my head, moving part of the mesh to cover my face, slightly obscuring my vision but the image was still clear in the mirror. "I can't believe we're finally getting married, it's been four years, I was starting to think that we'd never tie the knot." I frowned a little in the mirror when I heard the laughing in the room next door "Is he dressed yet?"
"They're almost ready, Violet." She sighed and placed her hands on my shoulders. "Next, it'll be Ron, and then Ginny, and then none of my children will need they're mother anymore. They'll start families and stop coming over for Christmas, like Bill." I placed my hand over her's and looked into our reflection, focusing on her eyes. "Molly Weasley, your children will always need you, and so will I. My mother is all the way in America, if I get pregnant who will help me through it? And when George get's sick, I'll need someone to teach me how to make the soup he likes. We're not going anywhere, and we'll always be a floo away."
And just like that her tears where back, I almost didn't have time to grab the handkerchief off the dresser before her tears started flowing off of her face and onto the floor, something that I'm sure in her state would be cause for even more tears. "Oh, dear, that's so sweet." and she hugged me, something that when it first happened, scared me beyond belief, she was so open and friendly and not put off by the American witch with a strange name whom her son had brought home just to defuse the tension of him and his brother leaving school.
"Well, it's almost time, I'll leave you alone to finish getting ready." she wiped her eyes again and turned to the door, leaving me alone once again to think about my future, and in turn my past. Some of the stories of George and I are obvious to people who where around at the time, almost as obvious as the scars that grace the backs of both of our hands, his deeper and scared over in a way that was almost shocking, the letters where perfectly viable while mine, only there from the one detention that I ever served with Umbridge, seemed blurry and almost healed together in a way that made them hard to deceiver.
I got mine the first night I had an actual conversation with George.
I will not skip class. I will not skip class. I will not skip class. I will not skip class. I will not skip class. Every letter was painful, every syllable came out in a bright red, almost the color of my house, almost the color of the one thing I had to hold onto- I am a Gryffindor and she will not scare me away. Umbridge and I both know I wasn't skipping class, I don't even have a class fourth period. It's because I wasn't ducking into side corridors and sneaking around her when she was speed-walking through the halls in one of her many paroles.
"Miss Raine," Umbridge walked up behind me, examining the scarlet words on both my hand and the paper, "I see the message has sunk in." She giggled her sickly sweat giggle tapping her wand on my desk, cleaning it of the few drops of blood the fell from my hand. "You may go, have a nice supper." I gathered my books and headed out the door, pulling the sleeves of my sweater down further over my hands, the left one throbbing. I have been here for seven years and I never lost my American accent, something that my father is amazed I even have considering my mother is from here, nor have I ever taken to English words. Like jumper for instance, you're not jumping anywhere and when you're wearing it it's not because you particularly want to move around a lot. The castle is always cold in November, as if no one in the school knew a heating charm that would work against the frigid air that surrounded us.
I wasn't headed to the Great Hall, I had almost thirty minutes before anyone even thought about going down for dinner, so I wasn't in any big rush to get there myself, instead I headed to my tower, to my home away from home, to my family away from my family. I wonder sometimes if this is what my father feels like when he's away from us, which is sadly almost as much as I'm away from them. I keep a muggle first aid kid in my trunk, my father's doing of course, and I know that she likes it when people have no choice but to display her work for all to see, but I'm not like the rest of the students and I'm not going to put my battle scars out for her to admire. And, while I love Madame Pomfrey, hell, without her, I wouldn't be nearly as stable as I am in this moment, I don't believe in rushing off to the Hospital Wing with every little thing that happens. I'm there enough as it is.
Half way up the thick staircase to the seventh floor I was nearly knocked over the edge by a whoosh of red that was sprinting up the same path I was. A Weasley twin, very rarely seen as one and not both. As if they are animals in a zoo, you can observe, watch, imagine even, but unless they sniffed you out, you weren't allowed to touch. So I gripped the side of the staircase, my hand thumping bright red against it, I heard him move towards me, grip my sides and pull me away from the edge, steadier then most with the moving stone beneath us.
"Hey Violet." I love my name, my full name, Violet Raine, as if water rushing from the sky, looking clear, had any resemblance to such a color. "Going to the common room, huh?" Small talk annoys me, what is the point of stating obvious things when you have nothing to say? Why can't there just be silence, silence can be nice. But, from my, limited, interactions with the Weasley twins "silence" was almost as bad as shouting "VOLDEMORT IS A CRY BABY WHO NEEDS TO GET OVER IT ALREADY" as loud as you can at the Malfoy house.
"Yeah. How are you doing George? How's your brother?" I looked around slightly, as if expecting him to pop up out of no where, show up and look at me as if trying to figure something out, which he often does in Transfiguration, when George looks like he's almost sleeping and me, sitting diagonal from them, can feel his gaze at the back of my head. Never any lower, which I am greatful for. "You know, same ol' same ol', just trying to sneak around the crazy bat long enough to get some work done."
If you've known (of) Fred and George Weasley for even a nanosecond, you know that there passion is pranks, pulling them off, masterminding them, and creating them. They started selling some of there stuff last year, but this year I've seem packaging, like a real business. Maybe they where born to make the world laugh, or cry, depending on which side of the prank you're on. "I've seem some of the stuff around the tower, looks nice. Are you planning on pursuing it full time when you're out of here?" he nodded, looking down at me, and the weird thing about looking at George, is that for some reason, even though I have had limited interaction with him, I always know which twin he is by his eyes, there was something different in his eyes then Fred, maybe a little more human, a little less pure prank, a little more complex. But I barely know either of them, so I'm only going with my gut here.
"Isn't there some American holiday coming up soon?" I nodded, we where still looking at each others eyes. "Yeah, Thanksgiving, it's where we celebrate stealing the land from it's native people and sitting down to a big feast before killing them and taking there land. You know, nothing really different then any other American holiday." he laughed after the last sentence. I always make fun of where I come from, better me then them, and in true Gryffindor spirit, I aim to win. Even if I loose, I aim to win.
"What are you going to do for it here?" I shrugged, I try not to think about what I could be doing if I where at home with my family, it's sad, so why bring it up. "Yeah, I get that." he says. Did I just say all of that out loud? "I don't know what I'd do without my family that close to me, I'm kind of used to having them there, and we need someone to test our products, even if they don't know it."
He winks at me, I can only guess that he's talking about his younger brother, Ron when he says this to me. This is the longest that I think we've ever talked in our entire seven years in the same house, same classes. "Oy! Are you coming or what?" I look up and see Fred staring down at us, and suddenly I notice that the staircase isn't moving anymore, it's still, frozen. George and I start to move up the stairs, me behind him. Fred watched us the entire time. "So, I'll see you in class." I nod and he leaves. Skipping steps to meet his brother. My hand still throbs against my sleeve.
And now, more then four years later, I'm looking down at this scar and remembering the electric waves I felt through my body when he grabbed my thighs, it's amazing how not looking for the feeling in my memory made me remember it. All the more reason, I think, that even though I am scared beyond anything I have ever felt, it's worth it, because even when I was 17 I felt the electric waves that still push through my body when he touches me. I wonder, as I did then, if he felt them, I never got that answer, never found out if he did or not. I never asked.
I'll have to remember to do so, sooner or later, but right now, I have to slip into my shoes, walk out the door, and get married to George Weasley.
Authors note: When I went to start writing this I was going to go in a completely different story, but then, it just turned into something more. Something I think I am going to enjoy writing. It's going to be in both Violet and George's point of views, going from her's to his and back and forth and too and fro, and you get the idea. Granted, I have no plan, for the events, just the character, so, feel free to leave me idea's about what sort of things you think these two should get into during their courtship.
Did I just use the word courtship?