History Repeating Itself
George Weasley was a man of complexity, just like any other person. He loved his family but resented them for their actions. He cared about his two closest friends yet could not help them beyond suggestions and advice. He loved his wife and children but felt that he couldn’t protect them like he should. Most of all, he missed his brother Fred with a constant ache that never really left.
The years that had passed since finding and emptying his inherited vaults seemed to pass either too fast, or extremely slowly. Only through the combined efforts of Harry, his older brother Bill, and Carl’s network had he and Angelina finally found a place to live. The outer edges of a magical village in Wales, where they somehow to snap up some land. Since it was within the borders of the village, they didn’t need to worry as much about extensive wards. They also just happened to know an architect who was more than willing to give them some discounts (they had both smacked Harry upside his head when he suggested working for free).
He had managed to finagle his way into setting up his second shop in the same village. While he was still more than happy to watch the kids whilst his amazing goddess of a wife played for the Harpies, he was finding himself more wary than before about the Ministry. They had inevitably fulfilled Carl’s worries about pissing off the Goblins, and the economy was still suffering. Actually, the only reason they still had an economy and weren’t in the middle of a full-blown war was because of the Goblins greed.
Thankfully Bill had left the goblins quite some time ago and joined an independent curse-breaking company through France. Mum had thrown up quite a stink over it, but Bill had been very firm over the fact that magical travel practically made the distance null and void.
George had seen the writing on the wall and knew that Harry had as well. His younger friend had been thoroughly unimpressed when the general wixen public had begun to treat him like a chew toy again; either vilifying and judging him for not taking a stance against the ministry or the Goblin Nation, or pleading for The-Man-Who-Conquered to save them. George had seen the letter to the editor that Harry had sent the prophet. They couldn’t alter the thing even if they tried, and the scathing proclamation Harr-bear had written was a masterpiece.
Carl and Harry had finished working on some sort of project involving family trees shortly after the letter, which had spurred them to actually move to France. Fleur had been ecstatic to show the two around the country and help them get settled. Sometimes George wondered at his own decision to meddle and suggest those two hellions move in together. Their combined intelligence led to some rather loopy conversations and ideas that just shouldn’t exist. George was so proud.
In a not so unexpected turn of events, Harry and Carl had changed their legal names in order to hopefully lessen the sheer amount of correspondence Harry was being buried under. The most surprising thing was that it worked. After all, you couldn’t track someone when their closest friends had big enough social and business circles that you couldn’t pinpoint a specific person easily. Also, hiding from megalomaniacal wizards did help you know legal and not so legal means to conceal your presence.
As George walked into the picturesque cottage off the coast of Île aux Oiseaux, he pondered the little isle in the Arcachon Bay. The muggles had apparently made the little spit of land into a sort of nature preserve for birds and sea life. However, the magical community of Oiseaux had created a sort of interconnected series of artificial sandbars off the southern edge of the island that housed a village and market renowned across France.
Colorful villas and cottages comprised the majority of the living spaces, and quite frankly, George thought the place was delightful.
Walking into the beige entrance of the sandstone dwelling, George was greeted by the smell of apple pie as Harry walked through the small living room.
“George! How are you? Angelina? The kids?” Harry greeted him as he squeezed George in a hug.
Chuckling, he replied, “I’m good, so is Angelina and the kids. Though, I’m starting to wonder if Roxanne isn’t going to create her own dictatorship with the neighborhood kids.”
Harry barked a laugh at that and joked, “Next time I come over I’ll give her a few pointers, shall I?”
Groaning dramatically George collapsed into a chair next to the fireplace, “Oh Merlin, next thing you know she’ll convince Fred that he needs to be her bodyguard.” Harry snorted at his display and sat down on a loveseat across from the fireplace. George straightened up and asked, “How is Teddy and ‘Dromeda? Last I heard ickle Edward was following his father’s footsteps and apprenticing to get his defense mastery.”
Harry smiled weakly and said, “Yeah. From what he told me, he wants to become a teacher at Hogwarts, but isn’t sure if the position will be open by then.”
George frowned a bit at the expression on Harry’s face, “Everything ok Harrykins?”
Harry’s lips twitched at the familiar nickname and sighed, “’ts fine, its fine. Just being dramatic is all.”
Carl chose that moment to wander into the room with a deadpan expression on his face. Speaking in a monotone, he said, “What he means, is that Andromeda has asked Harry to not visit anymore. Apparently, the current sentiments around Harry Potter have been plummeting in the Ministry, and Mrs. Tonks is afraid that Edward is going to get harassed because of it. Told us that auror’s have been sniffing around the house lately. Eddy had a row about it with the both of them when Harry went over to break the news.”
George winced and tried for a joke to lesson the grimace on his younger friend’s face, “Well, I suppose he had to have some form of teenage rebellion. He’s just a bit of a late bloomer, being 18 and all.”
Carl snorted as Harry rolled his eyes, but the tension broke a bit after that. His blonde friend put a very yummy-looking apple tart on the table with a few plates while Harry elaborated. Sighing somewhat heavily, he said, “I’ve given him the communication mirror that’s still fully intact. I keep the broken piece. He’s started to use it, but I’m still on his black list.”
Carl squeezed the other’s shoulder as he handed out pieces of the desert, “Considering the shit the British MOM has been pulling lately; I don’t think its going to take long for him to understand that your paranoia is justified.”
Harry scoffed in response, “Yeah, Andromeda still wants me to completely cut off contact though.” He stabbed the slice with more force than necessary.
George and Carl winced at that. That was exactly surprising, especially after what happened the last time her family ended up in a conflict.
George shook his head and commented, “Well, they might be looking to blame someone, but the moment they try to blame you, its going to backfire. You might not be in their social graces at the moment, but everyone knows by now that your nowhere near Britain.”
Carl pursed his lips and added, “Besides, the old crowd may have turned their backs on you like gits, but they won’t let smear campaigns go. They saw too much of that bloody tosh before, and during ,the war to let it happen again.”
Harry nodded as he chewed on his treat, but didn’t say anything in response. They all ate for a bit before George broke the deflated mood by asking Carl, “By the way, any news on your French roots?”
Looking slightly startled at the question, Carl nodded, “Yeah, I’ve managed to break through the bureaucratic nonsense that the French ministry was throwing at me. The banks here are mostly run through a combination of dwarves, goblins, and wixen. The sheer amount of paperwork and department jumping I had to do through that bank made me want to rip my hair out.” George couldn’t help a snort at that, but Carl ignored him as usual, “I’ve started to empty out the vaults with a bunch of old possessions, but they’re stonewalling me on the financial ones. Too bad for them I don’t really care.”
Harry smirked at that and said, “It’s pretty funny actually. When Carl told me the runaround they've been giving him, we both had a good laugh. Unfortunate for them we learned patience the hard way, eh? Brought me with him last time. The teller told us that we had only gotten halfway through the steps. When Carl told her he was surprised it went through so fast, she looked like she was sucking a lemon.”
George snickered at that and wondered if every bank in existence was like that. Well, at least there wasn’t a major threat of outright war if those banks disagreed with government policy. He let a smirk decorate his face, “Maybe you should ask if there’s a way to notarize all the steps. Would add on a week or so to everything they do. Plus, add a ton of paperwork on their end. Just to see their reaction.”
Carl smirked at the suggestion and George felt a lick of excitement. He had a feeling that his friend might do just as he advised.
*
Four years later
Fred II was only a year away from starting school, and both he and Angelina were seriously considering sending him to the French school of magic. There was a rather tense and uncomfortable atmosphere in the British wixen world at the moment. The Goblin Nation and the Ministry were in a sort of cold war, and the Dwarven banks of Nordal had been pressured out by both entities.
Harry and Carl became French citizens not long after the British Ministry had basically started to hunt The-Man-Who-Conquered. None of the other enclaves were interested in their fear-mongering, and quite frankly, the French ministry would have been fools to let either of his friends go. Harry, or rather, ‘Ferris’ (after his maternal grandfather) had become a renowned architect and actually saved a rather famous magical landmark from sinking into a swamp. Both he and Carl (a.k.a. Alexis) had used a combination of their masteries to prevent the failing foundation from giving out. They basically became a combination of scholar and innovator in their respective fields. Both had considered looking for citizenship in Italy if France failed to come through, but thankfully their ministry wasn’t quite that thick.
Unfortunately, due to the rising tensions within Britain, Andromeda’s insistence, and a growing distance between Edward and his godfather, neither man had been to England in two years. Edward Remus Lupin had obtained his mastery, and was looking into the credentials required to become a teacher. Andromeda’s health was, unfortunately, starting to decline. George and his family still went to visit whenever they could, but even international travel was being affected.
Like the stubborn gits they still were, both Harry and Carl had offered to shed their boycott of all things British and come back, wand blazing. However, like the responsible adults both Harry and Carl sometimes acted like they weren’t, he and his wife told them that this wasn’t their responsibility or problem. They already knew that they had many options outside of Britain if they needed an out.
Carl had argued vehemently that they could at least use the network he had created after the Second Blood War (as Moldyshorts second rise to power had been officially named). With all of the rebuilding that was going on, and the lack of funds available to the post-war Ministry, his friend had started looking for ways to help. He managed to create an intricate system to connect everyone who was willing to help efforts to rehouse those most affected by the muggleborn hunts and Death Eater raids. It was how he had found the architecture firm for Harry. He had set up groups of people to help build and repair housing, create public support groups, and temporary markets to aid with getting food to the right places. He never so much as hinted at the word charity, and simply helped everyone realize that they didn’t need to rely on a broken government to help each other back to their feet.
Watching as his friends rose on their own merits without actually meaning to was quite the lark. Neither of them was interested in the spotlight. Yet, their brilliance and determination always somehow brought them to the notice of the public anyway.
Today George was visiting Bill and Fleur for a family get-together at their home just outside Paris with Ange and the kids. Carl and Harry were their as well, but the rest of his family had been constricted by ministry idiocy and hadn’t been able to come. He would never say this to anyone but his wife, but he was glad that Molly and Ron weren’t there to bring the mood down. Ronald was parroting so much ministry propaganda lately that he would swear it made his ears bleed. However, his Mum seemed to harp on both Bill and Fleur about moving back to England every chance she got. Considering the shit show going on there, no one wanted to waste their breath pointing out the obvious.
The early evening was quite lovely as the sun hadn’t yet begun to set, but was low enough to begin painting the sky. Angelina was leaning against his side in a relaxed slouch as they watched the kids running around together.
“Feels like one of those days you wish would never end, huh?” Bills gravelly voice asked from behind him, Greyback had almost taken out his vocal cords during the war.
George felt his mouth twitch up into a bigger smile, “Yeah, for you maybe. I’m looking forward to Roxanne finally passing out.”
Bill laughed as Angelina smacked his stomach hard enough to make him grunt. George pouted and was about to whine about the unfairness when another voice piped up, “I’d be careful there George, or Roxanne might just use it as more ammunition.”
George turned his head to see Carl had come up next to Bill. He snorted before replying, “You’re not wrong. Little brat used the mock argument Ange and I had to say, she should be allowed to argue with Fred about the last pumpkin pasty.”
Carl laughed again before dragging a chair over to the table that he and Ange were sitting at before Fleur called his wife over. Sounded like she wanted to talk with her and Gabrielle about a shopping trip tomorrow. George gave his wife a quick peck before she left, then Bill took up her previous seat, shuffling a bit so he could reach for a drink refill.
All was silent for a moment as they simply basked in the feeling of safety and peace. Harry wandered over then and perched on the edge of the table next to Carl.
Bill was looking at the two of them in contemplation before he asked, “Anything new with you two?”
The two seemed to freeze in place before deliberately relaxing. George couldn’t help but narrow his eyes. What had his older brother noticed that he hadn’t?
Harry responded in his chirpy, absolutely-nothing-is-wrong voice, “We’ve both had pretty boring lives since we last saw you. Well, except Samhain, but we know there’s always something happening then.”
Harry continued to smile like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth and Carl neutrally sipped his drink while pretending to zone out. Bill sighed, and said in a defeated tone, “Look, I don’t want to pry. You’ve both been private people for a long time, but even Fleur’s noticed your becoming twitchy lately.”
George felt a twitch start up in his eyelid, he knew the most likely reason he hadn’t noticed anything was simply the travel restrictions that prevented face to face meetings. However, these were his best friends, he should have been able to tell from their letters at least.
Carl sighed and rolled his eyes at George, like he could read his mind and thought he was ridiculous. George couldn’t help his offended noise before the blonde held up a hand and release a breath through his nose. In one of his most deadpan voices, Carl guessed, “You noticed that we’ve been using glamours for a while, haven’t you?”
Harry winced at the blunt question and looked away while Bill nodded, “Certainly one of the things I’ve noticed. Though I’m surprised neither of you mentioned anything to George at least.”
George felt a twinge in his chest. He knew that despite the closeness they shared, Carl and Harry had become brothers of a sort. Their closeness had grown quite a bit over the years. They made sure that the red-head knew he was still their closest friend, but brothers just shared things that you wouldn’t with anyone else. Both of the others looked apologetic the moment Bill said that, but George waved it off, “I know how close you two are, and while I’d love to say I wasn’t hurt at all, I can’t. Though, with all the nastiness in Britain we’ve been dealing with, I can’t say that there was anything I could have done regardless. Not like you could have put anything too sensitive in a letter.”
Everyone winced at the sardonic tone in his voice, but no one could refute what he had said. None of their friend group used the duo’s original names anymore out of respect for their choices, but reading private mail was a favorite way for the ministry to weed out dissenters. They may not have started yet, but it was practically inevitable at this point if they didn’t manage to get a new minister in soon.
“Well, whatever is happening with you two, you’d better come see me if you have a problem,” Bill’s whipped out his big brother voice.
The two across from them looked at them in guilt and acknowledgement. Harry spoke then, “There isn’t really a problem perse, its just… well there were a few unexpected surprises cropping up from old family lines. Nothing really dangerous, just perplexing. We’ve been dealing with it well enough.”
Both George and Bill narrowed their eyes. They had heard about nasty surprises that could crop up when sorting out estates from pure-blood lines. Things ranging from old pacts to marriage contracts that had to be sorted out by the younger generations. Though, if the two were insisting that it wasn’t something they couldn’t handle, they would respect it. For now.
Sighing in slight exasperation, George knew that quite a bit of this stubbornness he could blame on Dumbledore. The man had basically groomed Harry and Carl's generation to believe that they should handle problems without interference. The old man taught them that they could only trust a select few people, and that they should shoulder the burdens of others by themselves. Blimey, but he really did find himself cursing the former headmaster more than he should.
“Well, either of you run into something that would require drastic measures to solve…” George trailed off, raising an expectant eyebrow.
The sheepish smiles the two sent him told the red-head everything he needed to know.