occurremus iterum

London was beautiful. It was a lot like New York City, only much cleaner. George had taken Zinnia out to breakfast and they took the tube. She marveled at how there was almost no litter and the compartment didn’t have a faint smell of urine. 

They enjoyed their coffee in the window of the small cafe and watched the snow fall outside. George let go of her hand when the waiter brought out their dishes. He had ordered a full English breakfast while she opted for eggs benedict. Zinnia didn’t realize how hungry she was until the plate was sat in front of her and the smell of eggs and hollandaise sauce flooded her senses. 

After they finished their meals in silence, they got more coffee to go and George wanted to show her all his favorite spots.

“So you really don’t remember living in London? Like at all?” George asked her as they began their walk through Hyde Park. 

“I do! I just don’t think I spent a lot of time using public transportation. Or really leaving my apartment. I don’t know really, Hugo said we only spent 2 summers here.” Zinnia tried to brush his question off. She hated talking about the memories she lost from her accident. George normally didn’t ask her about the past anymore. 

“Right, I get it. I get it, I’m sure those summers you were perfectly well behaved. Not staying out late, just staying home to complete your summer reading list.” George teased her, bumping her shoulder with his. 

“Oh whatever! Maybe I was just partying the whole time. But really George I am trying to remember. Being here is more than Deja Vu, I even had the most vivid dream last night, it felt so real.”

“Was I in this dream?”

“You were actually.” She looked down at the sidewalk to hide her blushing cheeks from him. “It’s kind of a blur now but this morning I remembered it so clearly.”

“Maybe you should get a dream journal. You know, write it all down first thing in the morning so it’s still fresh.”

“That is actually not a bad idea! Maybe I will.”

“So this dream, was it naughty?” He had pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. 

“No George, it was perfectly tame. We were like, younger. I don’t know, it's stupid.”

“How young? What were we doing?” George was getting curious now. He felt a slight sliver of hope that maybe it wasn’t just a dream but a memory. A memory from Hogwarts, or when they spent the summer in London together. 

“George, I don’t want to talk about it, ok? Sorry I just, you know how hard my memories can be for me to recollect…” her voice trailed off. 

“That’s ok. Don’t be sorry, love. You think it was a memory? I thought it was just a dream?” He pressed just a little more. She said dream, now she is saying memory. Was she starting to remember?

“Oh! Look! Ice skating! Can we go? Please?” She switched the subject and convinced George to rent skates and join her on the rink. 

She laughed watching George cling to the walls of the rink. Zinnia loved to ice skate. She would always go with her mother and Hugo when she was young in central park. That was a memory so clear to her. They would walk through the park, her mom had her own pair of black skates and had bought Zinnia a pink pair with glitter laces. Her mom taught her to spin and jump, just amateur moves but it was a thrill. Zinnia remembered she successfully spun three times at once that winter and Hugo had gotten it on film on their family camcorder. She wondered where those old tapes were.

Now that she was older and years out of practice, she was only able to spin once without risking falling on her ass. George clapped wildly and hooted as she completed a backspin and added a dramatic pose at the end. 

“Thank you, thank you. I will be at the winter olympics next year.” She joked with a bow and skated her way over to him. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” He asked. 

“My mom, we would go all the time in central park.” 

“Well, you are brilliant.” He beamed down at her and pecked the cold tip of her nose. 

“Thanks, love. Come on, I’ll teach you.” She pulled on his arm. 

“No, no that’s alright. I am perfectly happy to watch you. I don’t fancy breaking my ankle right now.” 

“George, I won’t let you fall, come on. We will take it nice and slow.” 

He let her pull him off the wall, while still keeping one hand on it to steady himself. 

“You got it, just glide your feet, you don’t have to take steps like walking, just a small lift and glide. Lift and glide.”

He was gaining more confidence and lightened his grip on her arm. 

“There you go! You’re killing it!” She tried to pull him away from the edge. 

They were skating alongside each other, arm and arm. Left, right, left, right. She pulled her arm out from his and held his hand. 

“Ok, George. I’m gonna do another spin. Just hold my hand above my head so I can use you for balance.”

“Wait-”

She spun in her spot, kicking off the ice and he froze in position. She had enough momentum to go three times around before losing her balance. She was moving into a fourth turn and was crashing to the ground. George caught her just before she hit the ice, then picked her up bridal style in both arms.

“I gotcha.” He said, panting heavily. 

The other ice skaters were skating around them, and he carefully placed her feet back on the ice. She kept her hold on his shoulders and pulled him down to meet her lips for a kiss. Her foot lifted behind her as he deepened the kiss putting his hands to her waist. 

“Want to get out of here?” She asked him, pulling back from his face. 

“Always.” He said back. 

Her vision went black, she tried blinking hard, over and over again but it felt like she was in a blacked out room with no windows or source of light. Her breath began to quicken. 

*

“You ok, Z?” She heard George asking, but couldn’t see him. 

A candle flame was lit and she finally saw that he was there with her. But they were not on the ice skating rink. She looked around, were they even in London?

“Huh? I’m fine. I think I’m just tired. It was a long day, you know?” She replied, looking around to understand her new environment. 

What happened? Did I pass out?

“Yeah, crazy day with all these new students, a tournament? I mean don’t get me wrong it sounds bloody brilliant, but did they really have to cancel Quidditch this year? It’s one of the few joys that this school brings me.” He was looking up at the sky and then looked back down to her, sitting at her side. 

He was George. But he was younger, much younger. His hair was long, so much longer than she had even seen it. His eyes had this twinkle that she sometimes saw in the present day. But his aura was almost completely different. It was more naive, innocent. It was yellow, almost neon yellow. Just the slightest glow of orange was there too. He kissed her lips softly and pulled back. 

“And you of course, I wouldn't forget you.” His kiss was different, just the small peck on her lips she could feel how different his energy was. He was invincible. He was confident. He was cheerful.

“I - uh. I think I need to go to bed, George, I don’t feel good.” She was starting to panic.

Where was she? What year was it? Was this a memory that she had lost in the accident? If so, why is it coming back now? Why is George there? He couldn’t be there? If he knew her then, why wouldn’t he say so? This wasn’t real, this was a dream. She must have slipped on the ice, hit her head and is now in a dream. That thought made her panic even more. If she hit her head on the ice what if she was in another coma? What if she wakes up and forgets everything again? She can’t start over, she can’t. 

“Oh, no. Ok, let's get you back to the dungeons. Come on.” He stood up and put his hand out to pull her off the ground they were sitting on. 

“The dungeons?” She laughed a little, he always had a sense of humor, even in her recent hallucination. She grabbed his hand and he pulled her up. So fast that the blood went rushing to her head and her vision faded back to black.

*

“Zinnia, hi. There you are. Take it slow. Hi love.” 

Her eyes were adjusting to the light. She was sitting on a bench, looking around she saw the ice rink and George squatting in front of her. She smiled at him. 

“Hi.”

“Hi. Are you ok? You fainted.”

“Did I fall, did I hit my head?” Her hand quickly went to her head, she could feel pounding in her temples. 

“No, you didn’t fall. I got you, does your head hurt?” He was looking at her with concern, and pity. This was her George, his short hair, his aura back to how she always remembered. His eyebrows pulled together and the wrinkle in between them was deepened. 

“No, no. I’m fine. I just, I. Can we go home?” She looked away from him, feeling tears stinging the corner of her eyes. 

He quickly started to remove her skates, she noticed his were off and his boots back on. 

“How long was I?” She started to ask, but he interrupted her. 

“Come on.” 

She was at her feet and he led her to the exit, he hadn’t returned their skates. She looked down at the skates, they were gone, she didn’t remember him putting her boots on. 

They exited the park, he was holding her tight making big strides it was hard for her to keep up. 

“George, wait!” She exclaimed, forcing her momentum to stop. 

“Zinnia, come on, I want to get you out of the cold, back home with a warm blanket and a cup of tea.” He pleaded with her, his face covered with pity. 

“George, I’m ok! What happened? Did I faint? Did I hit my head again?”

“You just asked that.” He said quickly, then slower he added, “Just let me get you home, please?”

“Fine.” Her temples pounding and vision still a little blurry. But this was real, this felt more real. 

He sat her on the couch and tucked a thick woven blanket on her lap. 

“Stay.” He pointed his finger at her and went to the kitchen to start the kettle. 

“George. I, I think I had a vision?” 

“What did you see?” 

She was shocked at his response, she surely thought he would take this as a joke, or turn it into one. Like tell her she should ‘check her crystal ball’ or something. 

“I was with you. We were young, we were in a corridor? Or courtyard? I don’t know, it was dark out. You were talking about a tournament? Oh and your hair! It was so long, your energy was,” She hesitated to continue, feeling his eyes on her from across the room in the kitchen. 

“It was what?”

“Different. Innocent, and so optimistic.” She turned to make eye contact with him and he stared back. 

“Then what happened?” He almost whispered it. 

“I don’t know, I was coming-to then.” 

He looked away with a jump when the tea kettle whistled loudly. He pulled it off the stove and made them tea, joining her on the couch. 

“Have you had visions before?” He asked her like he was asking her if she had ever played tennis before. 

“No! No, I’ve never had visions,” She was laughing like this whole scenario was crazy talk. “This was the past, not the future.”

“What was the past?” He looked at her, she glanced over and he held her gaze. 

“The, the dream I had.”

“The dream from last night or the dream you had when you just fainted?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, ok!?” She raised her voice, her panic starting to rise again. 

“Okay, okay I’m sorry. Come here, love.” he went to pull her to him to comfort her. 

It was all too much. She felt like at that moment if he went to hug her, she would lose control and cry uncontrollably. She needed out. She stood up quickly. 

“I need a minute. Ok George? Is that ok with you?” She asked sternly. Walking to the spare bedroom that was used as an office and shutting the door. 

He didn’t follow her and instead went to the fireplace to floo his sister Ginny. She was in between Quidditch seasons and almost always available to chat and she even had a muggle phone that George often texted and called her on. More than any of his brothers. 

His head went to the green flame and looked around the living room of Grimmuald Place. 

“Ginny! Ginny? Harry? Is anyone home!?”

Ginny entered the living room walking over to her fireplace with her older brother’s head sticking out of it. 

“What’s up? Did Zinn get here? Are you guys going to come out tonight?” 

“Yes, she’s here. We were planning on coming out, but it is looking like that’s not going to happen.”

“Why? Is everything good in paradise?”

Ginny joked that George and Zinnia got a second honeymoon. She was often jealous that George was able to be with the love of his life and they could live in a world pretending that the war never even happened. While she was fighting to continue school and focus on her athletic career and simultaneously be a loving and supportive girlfriend to the chosen one. Harry and Ginny never got a real honeymoon experience, their relationship was always stressed under the war. 

“She fainted, she had a vision. And now she is freaking out. Ginny I think she is remembering!”

“What was the vision?”

“I don’t know, she wouldn’t tell me! Like I said, she is freaking out!”

“Why now? How is she starting to remember things now?”

“Gin, I don’t bloody know. I don’t know how to proceed. I think I might break and tell her everything.” George pulled his head out to check the room. Zinnia was still in the office, he stuck it back in the flames. 

“George! Stay strong, let her come to things on her own. Hermione said trying to forcefully pull out memories from occlumency is dangerous and painful. She is still reviewing those blasted scans from the muggle machines that you sent!” 

“Ok, ok. I will try. Let me know if Hermione finds anything new, this is starting to become urgent.”

George pulled out of the fireplace, just in time as he heard Zinnia shuffling around behind the closed door of his old office. He put out the flames and walked to the door. 

“How are you doing in there Z, can I get you anything?” He asked softly.

The door handle turned and Zinnia exited the room to join him. 

“I’m ok. Thanks George. Sorry I didn’t mean to shout at you, I was scared. I’m ok now.” She was embarrassed of her actions. She had never fought with him like that, she had never shown him her weak side of fear of losing her memories again or letting go and crying over her mom. Not ever since the first night. When they met in England. She nervously twirled her locket around.

“Don’t apologize, love. I feel terrible that I rushed you out of the park. I should have taken it slow. I just was wanting to get you home as fast as possible. It was too much, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed you for more details of your vision. I know you hate talking about the past. I’m so sorry, really Zinn, I won’t bring it up again.” He said everything all so quickly without taking a breath. 

“George, we are good. I am not mad at you. I just want us to forget about it and have fun. It’s New Year’s Eve! We’re young and in love and in London! Let’s make the most of it!” Her mood was upbeat and excited. George couldn’t help but feel that it was a little forced. 

“You sure? What do you want to do? We can go out with my friends downtown. Or we could stay in and party here?” He suggested, with a flirty smirk. 

“We’re going out!” She demanded. “We can stay in any night. New Year’s is important, it calls for celebration. Out with the old, in with the new!”

That’s how she always thought. George had learned a lot about the new Zinnia over the last 6 months. She would never cry in front of him. She would almost never argue with him, or disagree. She would never talk about the past, but she would listen with care and attention whenever he would talk to her about missing Fred. She was empathetic to him but detached from her own feelings. It was like she wouldn’t allow herself to be sad or angry. She only wanted positivity. She shoved every sad thought away, deep into her brain. And she was good at it. She had successfully forgotten so much and with the damage to her brain, George was convinced those memories were long gone, buried too deep to recover. Her unwillingness to fully feel her feelings was starting to break her. 

“Ok, fine. We will go out on one condition.” George told her, now hugging her tight to his chest. 

“Hmm?” She moaned into his warm sweater, it smelled slightly like smoke. 

“You have to take a nap. A full Churchill.”

“Churchill?"

“Yeah, Winston Churchill?”

“I’ve heard of him, what does he have to do with a nap?”

“He was famous for taking naps. Maybe it's a Brit thing, but a full Churchill means you nap, no shoes and no pants, for at least one hour. Can you do that for me?”

“I guess I can do that if it makes you feel better.” She laughed and he picked her up to carry her to his bedroom. Her legs wrapped around his waist and face buried in his shoulder. 

He gently flopped her on the bed and hovered over her, face adjacent to hers. Her eyes were red, blinking fast and refusing to hold his eye contact. 

“Thank you. I had so much fun this morning. You are an excellent ice skater.” He kissed her forehead then her lips, softly, and she cupped his face in her hands to hold him there and lengthen the moment. 

“I had fun too. And we are going to have even more fun tonight.” She slithered her arms around his neck, to pull his body down and started to make-out with him. 

He pulled back and started to unbutton her jeans. 

“No distractions, love, you promised me a nap.” He wiggled her pants off and ushered her to get under the covers. “Sleep, that is an order.” He kissed her forehead and left the room. 

Zinnia moved to take her bra off so she could really relax and try to get a little more sleep. She flipped over on the bed, thinking about the visions she had. Her eyes stung with tears as she tried to push the images back out. Trying to ignore them, think of something else. Panic started to set in. She was trapped by her own brain, no phone service in this apartment, no tv to watch. No friends to go meet up with, exercise class to join, gowns to design, or George to pull her attention to. She surely could ignore these thoughts for one hour without a distraction. 

She breathed deep, in her nose and out her mouth. “Just keep breathing.” She whispered to herself. She could feel her chest tightening and her breath shudder as she fought back the tears. Her heart was pounding, she felt as if she had to lie in this bed alone for one more moment she would scream or cry or explode. She tore the covers off, and moved to sit on the floor, her back against the bed. She considered going back out to the living room for George to distract her, but she had burdened him enough for one day. She could just sit here, her bare legs cold on the hardwood floor. Sit and breathe. For just one hour. Then she can leave and go have a drink for New Years. Ring in the new year with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend whom she just meant only 6ish months ago. The vision of his younger face and body and hair and aura crept into the front of her mind. She took a big deep inhale in, holding it as his young face was clear again. And let the breath out, through her mouth, forcing the image away. She thought of a box, and placed that image in the box. She imagined a lid, being placed on that box, and her head convulsed, pain throbbing to her eyes and temples. “Fuck,” she whispered, massaging her forhead and forcing herself to breathe. She continued for what felt like hours. 

The door creaked open, George entered and found her on the floor next to the bed. She was crumpled into a ball. He sat a cup of tea on the floor next to her and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. 

“Zinnia, please. Please let me take you to a doctor.” He whispered, voice shaking. 

She forced herself to sit up and sip the tea he brought. “I’m just dehydrated. I get migraines sometimes you are just never around. I forgot my pills in New York. I am fine George. No doctor needed. How long was I out? I just woke up and got up too fast” 

“Can I get you a new prescription? Maybe we can call your doctor and get a bottle here? I’m sure this happens all the time. And it’s been about 40 minutes, you sure you got some sleep?”

She chugged the tea until it was empty. “Yes, probably a full 30 minutes. If I still have a headache tomorrow, I promise I will call.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now, I am feeling fully rested, I am going to get ready for tonight. Where are we going?”

“Nothing too crazy, my sister and her boyfriend are throwing a little get together in their townhouse. If it’s lame we can leave early.” 

“Sounds perfect.”

She kissed him on the cheek and stood up, slowly from the ground. He held her legs, rubbing up and down. She stood over his lap, her hands on his shoulders. 

“Or we can be late, hang out here for a little bit.” His hands trailed up behind her thighs, to her hips and tried to pull her to sit on him. She resisted, bending over and kissing his lips. She could feel her center warming and getting wet as his tongue twisted with hers. 

“Save it for next year.” Zinnia said as she pulled back, leaving him to watch her walk away.