Blood and Irises (Chapter 1) - Edited
Title: Blood and Irises
Characters/Pairings: George Weasley and Eve Blackmore (with possible appearances by other HP characters)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1203
Warnings: violence, torture, angst and partial nudity
Disclaimer: George Weasley and any other HP characters are the property of JK Rowling. I don’t own them. I only wish to play with them, for a little while (okay, so I’d like to play with Fred and George a lot, but can you blame me?). Eve Blackmore, her family, etc are the product of my brain. Some may remember her from Haunted Chambers. In fact, I’ve kept much of her background from HC, with only minor tweaks here and there (though she would probably argue the term “minor”, in some instances, but she’ll go along with them, like the good little warrior she is…)
Summary: In the five years after the war… One struggles to find his place in a world that’s no longer funny. The other struggles with her own actions, during the battles. Two who were once close must find their way back to each other…
Note: I made a slight alteration to this chapter. I didn't like where the original version was taking me.
It had been five years, since the war ended… Five long, empty years. One wouldn’t have thought it. After all, George was surrounded by his family. Victoire was nearly three. Harry and Ginny had just been married. Ron and Hermione were going to be married, in a few months.
But Fred wasn’t there. Even among his family, he felt alone. The one constant presence in George’s life was gone forever and he’d taken all the humor in the world with him. Oddly enough, Percy had taken over Weasley Wizard Wheezes, so George still had some income…
But it didn’t matter. Everytime he found himself turning to ask Fred about something, he found nothing. It was like there was a hole in George’s life… And it wasn’t the one where his ear used to be.
To make matters worse, Eve Blackmore had vanished into thin air. Not that he really blamed her… After what happened to her father and grandmother, Eve wasn’t the same person. He and Fred had gone to the funerals, of course. The one for Jason Blackmore, Eve’s father, at the Zen monastery had been strange, yet beautiful.
Afterwards, she’d disappeared into a grove, with a large monk he’d seen with her, at the Quidditch World Cup. They hadn’t seen her again, until the next week, at Christmas holiday. She’d arrived at The Burrow, with a large sack over her shoulder and asked to speak to Harry. They’d emerged, from one of the upstairs bedrooms, moments later. Eve had been bundling the bag back up and it was moving. Fred and George had guessed that she’d brought her father’s snake, but said nothing, in front of their family.
But the look on Eve’s face was grave. Fred had tried to ask Eve what was going on, but she’d left without another word. They didn’t see much of her, after that. But, whenever they crossed paths, she was always carrying a sword and had a strange sort of… bandage… around the index and middle fingers of her right hand. She’d report to Lupin and/or Shacklebolt and leave again, with hardly a word to anyone.
She’d stayed for the funerals, of course. Fred’s had been torture. George didn’t know how he survived it. Eve was the last one to leave him at the grave. It was that action alone that let George know she still cared, for she’d showed little to no emotion, since she’d lost her father.
A week later, he’d been coming out, for his nightly visit to his twin, when he’d seen her kneeling before the head stone. Unwilling to disturb Eve’s private moment with Fred, he watched her wave her hand over the ground and bow low. With no acknowledgement that she knew George was there, Eve got to her feet again, bowed once more, then left.
When George finally approached the grave, he found a her sword, the one Fred had given her - the one she’d used in the final battle - sitting in a case, and a stick of incense burning in front of it. He’d been furious at her, for that! How could she return such a gift to Fred now?!?!
George had apparated immediately to Eve’s house, only to find it deserted. Determined to tell her off, for her insensitivity, George went looking for her. He tried her dojo, her grandmother’s (the one that was still living), that sushi place she’d taken them to, in Chinatown… By the time he got to the monastery, he was royally pissed. He would have broken down the gates, if not for the wards placed around the walls. Eventually, the big monk Eve was always with - Kubungo, she’d called him - came to the gate. He’d informed George that Eve was gone.
It was all the old monk would say. When George demanded specifics, the man said something cryptic and then went back inside, leaving George to scream until he lost his voice.
Eventually, George’s anger bled away. There were days when he found himself hating Fred, for dying. There were even more days when he hated himself for continuing to live. But, as days went on, he found himself becoming… numb. His visits to Fred’s grave became less and less frequent. In fact, there were times, when he wouldn’t leave his room for days or weeks on end.
He hadn’t known when it happened, but he eventually found his thoughts turning back to Eve. And, whenever they did, George found himself feeling better. For no reason, the memory of watching her toss Fred five feet, in the snow would make him smile. He could close his eyes and almost see her sitting cross-legged on the counter of the shop, concentrating on one project or another, but never so much that she couldn’t look up with an impish smile or a suggestion, for a new product.
Then, one night, he went to visit Fred. He hadn’t been in weeks… or was it months? George stared down at his twin’s grave. The sword Eve had left still gleamed in the moonlight. And, for the first time in years, George thought he could almost hear Fred telling him to stop being such a bloody idiot.
The next day, George found himself at the gates of the old monastery again. This time, however, instead of banging on the door, he knocked politely and waited for admittance. A young monk led him to a small grove, where Eve’s “Uncle” Kubungo sat in meditation.
George kneeled before the old monk and waited to be acknowledged. “I need to find Eve,” George finally said, when the large man looked at him. “I… I need to see her again. Please tell me where she is.”
George felt he should say more… Felt he should beg and plead for any scrap of information that might lead him to Eve. The problem was, he didn’t even know if that would work. So George did the only other thing he could think of: he placed his hands on the ground, in front of his knees, and bowed to the monk, as he’d seen Eve do on numerous occasions.
He didn’t know how long he remained like that. His knees hurt, his toes were going numb. But just when he was sure that his actions were of no use, he felt a hand on his head. George looked up to see Kubungo standing in front of him.
The old man said something to him in Japanese. “I don’t understand…” he replied. It had been years since he’d heard the language. Eve had been teaching both him and Fred, but not a lot.
“You know where she is,” the monk said, in heavily accented English. “The path to enlightenment is not always clear. Seek and you will find…”
“I don’t want to find enlightenment,” George replied to the monk. “I want to find Eve.”
Kubungo didn’t say another word. He simply bowed walked out of the grove. “I don’t understand!” George called after him. But there was no answer. George ran out of the grove, but the monk had already vanished. George ran a frustrated hand through his hair and, when it became clear that he would get no further help, he left.
Characters/Pairings: George Weasley and Eve Blackmore (with possible appearances by other HP characters)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1203
Warnings: violence, torture, angst and partial nudity
Disclaimer: George Weasley and any other HP characters are the property of JK Rowling. I don’t own them. I only wish to play with them, for a little while (okay, so I’d like to play with Fred and George a lot, but can you blame me?). Eve Blackmore, her family, etc are the product of my brain. Some may remember her from Haunted Chambers. In fact, I’ve kept much of her background from HC, with only minor tweaks here and there (though she would probably argue the term “minor”, in some instances, but she’ll go along with them, like the good little warrior she is…)
Summary: In the five years after the war… One struggles to find his place in a world that’s no longer funny. The other struggles with her own actions, during the battles. Two who were once close must find their way back to each other…
Note: I made a slight alteration to this chapter. I didn't like where the original version was taking me.
It had been five years, since the war ended… Five long, empty years. One wouldn’t have thought it. After all, George was surrounded by his family. Victoire was nearly three. Harry and Ginny had just been married. Ron and Hermione were going to be married, in a few months.
But Fred wasn’t there. Even among his family, he felt alone. The one constant presence in George’s life was gone forever and he’d taken all the humor in the world with him. Oddly enough, Percy had taken over Weasley Wizard Wheezes, so George still had some income…
But it didn’t matter. Everytime he found himself turning to ask Fred about something, he found nothing. It was like there was a hole in George’s life… And it wasn’t the one where his ear used to be.
To make matters worse, Eve Blackmore had vanished into thin air. Not that he really blamed her… After what happened to her father and grandmother, Eve wasn’t the same person. He and Fred had gone to the funerals, of course. The one for Jason Blackmore, Eve’s father, at the Zen monastery had been strange, yet beautiful.
Afterwards, she’d disappeared into a grove, with a large monk he’d seen with her, at the Quidditch World Cup. They hadn’t seen her again, until the next week, at Christmas holiday. She’d arrived at The Burrow, with a large sack over her shoulder and asked to speak to Harry. They’d emerged, from one of the upstairs bedrooms, moments later. Eve had been bundling the bag back up and it was moving. Fred and George had guessed that she’d brought her father’s snake, but said nothing, in front of their family.
But the look on Eve’s face was grave. Fred had tried to ask Eve what was going on, but she’d left without another word. They didn’t see much of her, after that. But, whenever they crossed paths, she was always carrying a sword and had a strange sort of… bandage… around the index and middle fingers of her right hand. She’d report to Lupin and/or Shacklebolt and leave again, with hardly a word to anyone.
She’d stayed for the funerals, of course. Fred’s had been torture. George didn’t know how he survived it. Eve was the last one to leave him at the grave. It was that action alone that let George know she still cared, for she’d showed little to no emotion, since she’d lost her father.
A week later, he’d been coming out, for his nightly visit to his twin, when he’d seen her kneeling before the head stone. Unwilling to disturb Eve’s private moment with Fred, he watched her wave her hand over the ground and bow low. With no acknowledgement that she knew George was there, Eve got to her feet again, bowed once more, then left.
When George finally approached the grave, he found a her sword, the one Fred had given her - the one she’d used in the final battle - sitting in a case, and a stick of incense burning in front of it. He’d been furious at her, for that! How could she return such a gift to Fred now?!?!
George had apparated immediately to Eve’s house, only to find it deserted. Determined to tell her off, for her insensitivity, George went looking for her. He tried her dojo, her grandmother’s (the one that was still living), that sushi place she’d taken them to, in Chinatown… By the time he got to the monastery, he was royally pissed. He would have broken down the gates, if not for the wards placed around the walls. Eventually, the big monk Eve was always with - Kubungo, she’d called him - came to the gate. He’d informed George that Eve was gone.
It was all the old monk would say. When George demanded specifics, the man said something cryptic and then went back inside, leaving George to scream until he lost his voice.
Eventually, George’s anger bled away. There were days when he found himself hating Fred, for dying. There were even more days when he hated himself for continuing to live. But, as days went on, he found himself becoming… numb. His visits to Fred’s grave became less and less frequent. In fact, there were times, when he wouldn’t leave his room for days or weeks on end.
He hadn’t known when it happened, but he eventually found his thoughts turning back to Eve. And, whenever they did, George found himself feeling better. For no reason, the memory of watching her toss Fred five feet, in the snow would make him smile. He could close his eyes and almost see her sitting cross-legged on the counter of the shop, concentrating on one project or another, but never so much that she couldn’t look up with an impish smile or a suggestion, for a new product.
Then, one night, he went to visit Fred. He hadn’t been in weeks… or was it months? George stared down at his twin’s grave. The sword Eve had left still gleamed in the moonlight. And, for the first time in years, George thought he could almost hear Fred telling him to stop being such a bloody idiot.
The next day, George found himself at the gates of the old monastery again. This time, however, instead of banging on the door, he knocked politely and waited for admittance. A young monk led him to a small grove, where Eve’s “Uncle” Kubungo sat in meditation.
George kneeled before the old monk and waited to be acknowledged. “I need to find Eve,” George finally said, when the large man looked at him. “I… I need to see her again. Please tell me where she is.”
George felt he should say more… Felt he should beg and plead for any scrap of information that might lead him to Eve. The problem was, he didn’t even know if that would work. So George did the only other thing he could think of: he placed his hands on the ground, in front of his knees, and bowed to the monk, as he’d seen Eve do on numerous occasions.
He didn’t know how long he remained like that. His knees hurt, his toes were going numb. But just when he was sure that his actions were of no use, he felt a hand on his head. George looked up to see Kubungo standing in front of him.
The old man said something to him in Japanese. “I don’t understand…” he replied. It had been years since he’d heard the language. Eve had been teaching both him and Fred, but not a lot.
“You know where she is,” the monk said, in heavily accented English. “The path to enlightenment is not always clear. Seek and you will find…”
“I don’t want to find enlightenment,” George replied to the monk. “I want to find Eve.”
Kubungo didn’t say another word. He simply bowed walked out of the grove. “I don’t understand!” George called after him. But there was no answer. George ran out of the grove, but the monk had already vanished. George ran a frustrated hand through his hair and, when it became clear that he would get no further help, he left.