PROLOGUE
That day was still very clear in his mind.
Even though fifteen years had passed since, he could recall every excruciating
detail with vivid clarity. He
thought it would hurt less over the years, but it didn't. He could still feel it-the
loss which nothing and no
one could ever replace.
"Would you like me to hold her for you?" Ginny asked.
He looked at her, his only sister, clad in her black robes. Everyone was
mourning, for the loss was not his
alone. Yet, they could not feel it as he did. The never would.
"I'm alright, thanks, Gin."
A soft coo from the blankets in his arms made him look down. His daughter was
still very much asleep,
unaware of what was happening around her. Yet, he knew that she had felt the
loss as well. Perhaps not as
strongly as he felt it, but he somehow knew that she would miss her mother,
even though she might have
no recollection of the woman.
"Are you sure? You need to rest, you know. Everyone's gone home."
"You're shooing me away, are you?" he said, a hint of his old humor
coming back. After all, he didn't wish
his baby sister to shed even more tears than she already had that day.
"Of course not, you prat. But everything's done already, and Rain's
asleep. You should get some rest too.
Go home."
"I don't know where home is anymore, Gin."
"What d'you mean?"
"They say home is where the heart is. My heart was with her-still is with
her. And now that she's gone..."
he cut his own statement off. He couldn't go any further.
Tears would not come any more. He had cried himself out already. He didn't care
that his brothers had
worried about the lack of expression on his face, but he knew that they
understood. His grief was beyond
words-beyond the expression of all emotion.
"She's not wholly gone," came a voice that made him look up.
Calla Marvick-Weasley, Fred's wife, was standing in the doorway. She entered
the living room and knelt
before him, grey eyes filled to the brim with sympathy and grief.
"She's not wholly gone," she repeated, "She left you something
to remember her by, don't you see?"
"What are you talking about, Calla?” he asked.
But she didn't appear to hear him. Instead, she took his daughter from his arms
and rocked her gently.
"She looks like her mother, doesn't she? A sign beyond all else that she
loved you-and still continues to
love you through your daughter. Don't you see Alex in her, George? The way she
laughs, and smiles, and
even cries-it's all Alex."
George Weasley looked at his sister-in-law. Calla had been exceptionally close
to Alex, as far back as their
Hogwarts days. He felt the corners of his lips turn upward in a tired sort of
smile.
Alex. Alexandra Astorga had married him and given him a daughter-the daughter
he had showered
with all his attention and love. The daughter which he lived for. The daughter
who reminded him more and
more of his departed wife with each day that passed.
"Dad?" a voice jolted him out of his reverie, "Dad, are you
alright? It's time to go. You promised you'd
bring me to Diagon Alley today."
George looked up. Rain was perched on the arm of his chair, dark red tresses
gleaming in the sunlight.
"That I did, didn't I? Well, if you're ready, let's go."
"I've been waiting for you to say that all morning."
His daughter got off the chair and turned to the fireplace. She grabbed a jar
of Floo Powder off the
mantelpiece. She was turning sixteen in September, going on her Sixth Year in
Hogwarts, and so like her
mother in very respect.
"Dad, stop the daydreaming a bit, okay? Else you'll end up in Knockturn
Alley."
~*~
Diagon Alley was, as usual, alive with activity.
"Hello, stranger."
George turned.
"Hi,
"Nope. I took the day off deliberately, seeing as how my son's protective
feelings towards his cousin
increased ever since the last term ended."
George grinned wickedly. Skye, Calla and Fred's son, was a year older than
Rain. The two looked close
enough in appearance to pass for brother and sister-the same shade of dark red
hair, the same shape of
the eyes...it was all in all rather uncanny that even the bond they shared was
beyond the normal bond two
cousins would have.
"Well, Rain isn't too happy, because she says Skye is being paranoid now,
but I know she appreciates him.
She virtually dragged me here so they could both see the new broomstick at
Quality Quidditch Supplies."
Calla Weasley smiled. She was a Chaser for the Irish National Team, as her
husband and his twin were
Beaters for the English National team. It made dinners at the Burrow rather
interesting, having three
professional Quidditch players in the family.
"Those two won't ever change, will they? They're still as close to one
another as best friends, not that
they'll ever voluntarily admit that out loud."
Suddenly, manic laughter ran out from the corner of the shop. Gred and Forge's,
the wizarding joke shop
that surpassed even Zonko's, was filled with customers, making it hard to see
where the laughter came
from.
"That was Skye," Calla said thoughtfully, "I'm betting he turned
her into a parakeet again."
"No chance," said George, "Rain swore she'd get even for his
turning her hair green last week. I'm betting
she's force-feeding him something a little bit more dangerous than those
Parakeet Poppers."
A soft popping sound from behind the two announced the arrival of Fred Weasley,
co-owner of Gred and
Forge's, and the other half of the Weasley twins.
"There you are, Cal. Oh, hi George. Another busy day, eh? Haven't we just
opened half an hour ago?" Fred
spoke, kissing his wife on the cheek by way of greeting.
"Yeah, and we're already filled with customers. Who are we to complain,
though? At least the world is safe
from boredom yet again."
The twins looked at each other and grinned mischievously.
~*~
The chapter has now ended
