"Hey....I thought you'd be at the Burrow?"
George looked up at Fred as he leaned against the doorframe to the office, George boxing a fresh batch of nosebleed nougat.
"Hard to be there when your younger siblings and friends are all walking around with some form of survivor's guilt," George muttered, turning back to his inventory list. "I'll go back when they go to school in a few days."
"Mmmm," Fred made a noise walking to his desk, "yeah...Harry approached me about it."
George nodded, thinking about his conversation with Harry the day he arrived at the Burrow, explaining how he regretted how things turned out—how if he'd only stopped for two seconds, Sirius and Harper wouldn't have paid the ultimate prices.
"Do you think if we'd left her at school....would it be different?" George spoke softly, vanishing the contents of his cauldron with his hand, and reaching for ingredients for puking pastels.
"No...actually it would be worse," Fred sighed, he put his hands behind his head and leaned back. "Our shop wouldn't be standing right now, we wouldn't be opened, and we'd all be dead. You, me, Angelina, Lee? We'd all be dead fighting those pricks from taking her."
George nodded slightly, "you can go on without me...I have this list I want to finish."
Fred rolled his eyes, reaching for the list and looking it over, he got to his feet and began collecting ingredients to work on himself. "You can't go anywhere without your wand," Fred muttered lowly.
"Mate—"
"—I would like to work on my shop as well," Fred gave him a pointed look. "You aren't the only one still in pain, we all are, George. And will be until we can get her back." George's heart stopped momentarily at the last comment.
They sat in silence, occasionally asking for ingredients, but they worked mostly in silence. It was a silence that hadn't been present during their school days, only growing over the last few months.
"Could I have my wand back?" George asked after a while of silence.
Fred looked up, frowning, "what for?"
George took a deep breath, sometime since he'd gotten the news, his wand had been taken—presumably by Fred or Ginny. He rubbed his pointer finger with his thumb, frowning as he heaved his shoulders.
"I want to look through Harper's diary and..." his stomach plummeted, "I need my wand to open it."
"Angelina has never—"
"Ange wasn't given the password," his voice quivered slightly.
Fuck, I was doing so well today
Fred seemed to read his mind, reaching to his back pocket for a key, he opened his desk and gently placed George's wand on a pile of papers.
"Does it have to be your own wand or can I open it for you?"
"I'm not so dense that I would walk myself into a viper's den just to save Harper. Give me some credit."
"No, but you've been plotting..."
"All failures," George reached for his wand, pulling the diary out from his desk. The light thud it made on the table sounded like he'd dropped the golden egg Harry had to retrieve from the dragon during the tri-wizard tournament. He lifted his wand, looking at Fred expectantly, with a sigh Fred covered his ears before George preformed the charm to unlock the full contents of the diary.
"Harpsichord," he barely got the word out of his mouth, sticking in his throat like a piece of honey that got lodged in his windpipe along the way down.
He put his wand back on Fred's desk as the diary doubled in size, his heart was hammering away as he licked his lips, opening to the first page. Fred slowly got up from his seat, giving George space.
"Could...could you get Angelina?" Fred smiled, nodding before leaving the room. George leaned back in his chair before he opened the book, Angelina quietly sneaking into the room and taking a seat across from him. She watched him expectantly as George began to flip through pages. "I had the charm for the hidden pages, figured when I can't read it anymore, you'd like a go..."
Angelina gave a smile, her tears fell fast down her face as she nodded. "Love that."
As he was turning a page, a note fell on his chest, he lifted it up to Angelina see but she shrugged in response. Opening the letter, he saw the thick cursive writing he'd missed.
Hello love,
If you're seeing this note, that means our paths have diverged in some way and you're seeking answers. I want you to know that I love you.
More than I could ever express
The fates can only show us paths we have yet to take and if you're reading this, then I suppose the path I took separated us in some way. I know you'd never see this note otherwise, when I gave you the key to this diary, I knew you'd never look through it willingly.
Our paths will meet again, I know it.
Have faith that things will play out exactly as they should. Our fates have always been intertwined and there's no breaking the destiny fate has woven.
Please don't give up hope
Because I love you, George Weasley
Please always remember how much I love you.
Entirely yours,
Harpsichord
By the second to last sentence, George couldn't see anymore, his tears fell hot and fast as he crumpled the note in his hand, hanging his head in his hands. Angelina was beside him, gently removing the note from his hand as she rubbed circles into his back.
"She knew. She knew something was coming..." George was stuttering, his breathing was shallow, Angelina nodded quietly beside him.
"You know....I think I know the perfect entry to look for now that we have the full diary," Angelina offered, giving him a nudge. She took the book and slowly flipped through, it was about a third of the way in when she stopped and handed it back to him with a proud smile on her face.
George looked down at the page, it was a very simple entry. Just one sentence filled with a bunch of scribbles of hearts around it:
I've met a few people and they're all nice, but there's a boy named George
I think I like him, and either he likes me or its unrequited
Either way, I really want to get close to him
George gave a wet chuckle, looking at the hearts around the sentence with a smile. Angelina rested her cheek on his shoulder, giving him a tight hug.
"We'll get her back someday..." Angelina whispered, her voice shaking as she cried, "want to read these entries out aloud together?"
George laughed, nodding as he moved the book closer for Angelina to see.
*****
Ginny sat beside Luna at dinner, school had resumed and it had been about a month since their return. Ginny wanted so badly to go up to Snape and punch him, curse him for not doing a damned thing-but Hermione had stopped her. Giving her daily reminders that saving Harper would've compromised himself and the Order still needs a man on the inside-no matter how much it hurt to admit.
"It's not fair," Ginny hissed, thinking of her brother and the pain he was going through.
George had been staying at the Burrow during the summer, things between the siblings and Hermione seemed fine. George never blamed the three younger Gryffindors for what happened to Harper, explaining that had he not been the one to take her away, she may still be with them and so would Sirius. It was when Harry arrived to the Burrow that the amount of collective survivor's guilt was so intense that George stopped staying at home and had transformed their office into a room for himself, still unable to go upstairs.
"I'm certain that Harper is alive," Luna said quietly, looking toward the enchanted ceiling.
Ginny gave a strained smile to the blonde, "she's alive...but if Lestrange is near her, Harper won't come out of this the same," Neville spoke up, moving his peas around his plate. He cleared his throat, meeting Ginny's hard gaze, "how is George? When I went to the shop he was never around."
"He stays mostly to the back, according to Fred. Has good days and bad days, where he can manage the register, but...he's not always up to it," Ginny mused, chewing on her lower lip. "Sorta regret returning...Fred's daily letters aren't enough."
Luna patted Ginny's shoulder, "all will be right someday. You have to believe in Harper."
"I don't know about that," Ginny frowned, her appetite was gone as she pushed her food away from her.
Luna gave her wanderlust smile, humming to herself, Ginny watched her friend with an amused look. She was grateful for Luna's optimism, someone needed to be in these dark times. Ginny went back to glaring at the staff table, if she could only get Snape to speak with her during Defense, she'd make him pay.
The next Defense class, Ginny steeled her nerves before approaching Snape's desk, the professor kept his head down as students filed out.
"Why haven't you saved her?" Ginny asked, her voice shaking slightly. "You know where she is, don't you?"
Snape dropped his quill, his lip curling back as he got to his full height.
"I'd watch my tongue if I were you, Miss Weasley."
"You have to know," Ginny said firmly, her knuckles turning white as she held her bag.
"Even if I did, I would be dead right now if I did anything in the manner of removing Miss Nonemacker from the Dark Lord's sight."
Ginny's breathing hitched, "so what? We just let her die?"
"Death would be a gift to her at this point," Snape spoke, at this tears sprung to Ginny's eyes as she glared at the man.
"How dare you. How dare the adults of the Order allow—"
"Tell me, Miss Weasley. Where do you theorize your friend is being held? Do you think in a quiet place away from the action? Or in the heart of everything, in a stronghold where the Dark Lord is lingering along with his followers?" Snape didn't give her time to answer as he leaned forward, "the Order is setting up safe houses, or they should be for the coming storm. Regardless of them doing that, no one can simply walk up to the preverbal wolf's den and rescue a seer without casualties."
"But if you could—"
"—I have no power to help her any longer. I've done all that I can to help her survive the torture she's in. She is on her own." Snape looked at his table, Ginny swearing she saw the hint of regret cross his features before his hard eyes met hers, "and before you yell at me for the poor job of the Order-of which your parents are part of-I would caution to talk to them instead of badgering me about things I have not been privy to this past summer."
Ginny bit her lip, turning on her heel and hurrying out the classroom, she ran to Gryffindor tower where she found Dean and Seamus sitting by the fire.
"Everything alright?" Dean called, Ginny walking pass as she wiped her eyes.
Ginny looked at the two, her tears falling harder now, with a shake of her head she broke down more.
"No...everything's not alright."
****
George laid awake on Halloween night, lazily moving a sparkler across his fingers. He could hear Fred and Angelina laugh about something in the stock room from the office. Turning on his side, his heart thumped longingly to be like that-laughing with your loved one, being able to hold someone tightly. He was grateful for Angelina being around, she was the only reason he was alive today, without her he would've starved away, but that didn't mean much.
The Order was slowly building safe houses all along England now, they'd officially lost their connection in Asher Nonemacker to the French Ministry, Moody was now delegating conversations out there while looking for the missing Nonemacker family. George stopped attending Order meetings, Fred keeping him updated on things, feeling that they were losing hope on getting Harper back. Lupin was still gone, very little word was sent from him but he was currently working on gaining favors of a werewolf pack.
"George?" He sat up slightly, watching the office door open a bit more, for a moment he thought it was Harper but it was only Angelina.
"Fred and I were going to go get a pint at the Leaky Cauldron, did you want to join? Lee was going to meet us," Angelina smiled as she leaned against the doorframe.
"You lot have fun," George shook his head.
"Come out, please? You haven't left the shop."
"I've left it!" George objected.
"Only to the Burrow. That doesn't count, come on, George," Angelina tried again.
"Will anything make you stop?" George ran a hand through his hair.
"Hmmm no, sorry. Just an hour tops, no drinking if you aren't up to it. Just come be with your friends, please? She...she wouldn't want you like this." Angelina pursed her lips together, her breathing stuttering for a moment.
"Alright alright, I'll get dressed then," George sighed.
When he walked out of the back into the darkened shop, he went to the shop door and waited for Fred and Angelina to get ready. As he stood there, he saw a cloaked group of four moving toward Knockturn. Again he noticed one of the figures stop and begin convulsing, this time taking several steps away from the group. George leaned closed to the glass pane, studying the figure as their hood dropped and he could make out a slender girl—her head was shaven, hair hadn't begun growing more than a black fuzz in the lamp light. The girl was immediately struck in the side, the convulsing stopped just as fast as it had happened. The group disappeared, another figure pulling the hood back over the girl.
"Oi, do you remember how we looked in sixth year when Moody used that Imperius curse on us?" George whispered when he saw Fred and Angelina standing patiently behind him.
"Sort of," Fred frowned. "I just remember how...nice you felt under it."
"When we were fighting it off....did we look like we were twitching and convulsing a lot?" George felt like he was slowly putting something together.
"I can't remember," Angelina shook her head, "but...did you see something?"
George shook his head, the two frowning at him. "Come off it, mate," Fred whispered.
"I just...I'm not sure what I saw exactly, let's just go," George cleared his throat.
"Do you think you saw someone fighting off the Imperius curse?" Angelina asked calmly.
"I think so," George nodded. Angelina patted his arm, he didn't want to discuss that a part of his heart was hopping against hope that it had been Harper trying to come home.
"These are scary times," Fred commented.
"We get one drink...to go maybe," Angelina whispered.
The three hurried down the street, George pausing long enough to glance down Knockturn Alley. But no one was there. When they entered the pub, two people in cloaks stood off to a corner; one was checking the other over for something. George tried not to stare as the second person's hood was dropped, it was the girl from moments ago.
"What will you have, George?" Fred called George's attention away from the two figures, That stood only twelve feet from George, the girl who's back was turned spasmed uncontrollably for a moment at the name.
"Help." There was a squeak of the word from the two figures.
"Erm a firewhisky," George nodded to Tom the bar keep. Trying not to pay attention to the cloaked women.
"This cut may get infected if we don't clean it tonight," George heard the mutterings behind him. "Why did she have to do that? Why did you..." there was a long defeated sigh. "You've done really well, it's alright."
Footsteps sounded behind George, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a gruff looking man stepping toward the cloaked women. "We should head off."
"Right, right," the voice that had been whispering said in agreement. "She's going to need something for this when we get back."
"What's the point?"
"Do you want her injured anymore than she is? She'll be useless."
"Isn't she already?"
George kept his eyes on his glass as Tom poured it, trying not to reveal he could hear them over the quiet mumblings within the pub. The three figures left without another word, George swirled his drink and looked up to see Fred studying him.
"Weird lot...yeah?" Fred commented with a frown.
"Weird," George muttered, downing his drink in one go.
What if....no...that's too obvious.
The ball of hope was simmered with a splash of alcohol down his esophagus. It couldn't be simple. His mind was playing tricks, there was no way in hell that Harper could've been within an arms length of him.
****
Harper sat against the wall that was the only source of comfort she had, to her surprise she was allowed to have her hearing, her blindfold still remained—possibly they believed she was broken beyond repair and presented no threat, but sight was still not an obtainable reward. When she heard the door open and feet coming, she retracted against the wall, something was slumped to the ground and the feet left without a word.
Harper leaned closer into the wall, making herself invisible as she listened to whatever was left behind make noises.
"My word...they had someone down here?" The man whispered in surprised, he moved toward Harper. Harper shrunk into a ball, pulling her legs to her chest as she shook her head.
"Can you speak, my dear?" He asked softly beyond her blindfold.
Harper opened her mouth, the nodules in her throat painful as she tried to form words, Bellatrix had spent the better part of the day torturing her with curses that burned your organs, acid that boiled her blood and much worse.
"Kind of," she finally got out.
"Well, I'm Garrick Olivander," the man introduced himself.
"Harper," she nodded her head.
"Nice to meet you, Harper. Do you know how long you've been here?" Harper shook her head, "it's November now."
Five months
Harper had been tortured beyond repair for five months.
"Five," she breathed out.
"Months?!" Harper nodded, there was a long pause, "my dear child...."
Harper felt tears fall down her cheeks, pooling slightly at the edge of the fabric over eyes before she broke down into sobs. Five months of enduring torture, how had she managed to survive this long? She began to spiral as she sobbed, she didn't realize how long it had been, but now...did that mean she had no one? Did that mean no one missed her? What happened to her parents? Her aunt? Did she really have no one out there attempting to risk their life to save her? Curling into a ball, Harper let her sobs wrack her body, Olivander patting her knee as she fell to her side in tears.