Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Green-Eyed Orphan ❯ Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 

Addison Willoughby was still looking expectantly at Christiana. Christiana was so angry, and she knew that if she didn't stop herself this instant she would look like a puffy wet red balloon. This was because when she got angry her face turned red and she began to cry which in turn made her eyes all puffy. She had to make a choice and quickly. Addison was only trying to blackmail her into taking Andrew along because Andrew must have told her of his crush on her. She couldn't bear to have him along ogling her bottom every time she turned around all day long. She didn't have many belongings. The furniture had come with the flat. She supposed she could enlarge her bag and put everything in there.

“Come now, Miss Dalton, I don't have all day. I'm a very busy lady,” Miss Willoughby said. Busy, ha! Christiana thought. If you were so busy, you would have something better to do than to stand here telling me to take along your brother or get out.

“Don't worry, Miss Willoughby,” Christiana replied vehemently. “I'll be out of your hair and your inn before sundown.” She turned and marched back into her room, slamming the door in both the Willoughby siblings' faces.

She leaned back against the door, letting her body slide down until she was sitting with her knees under her chin. She let the tears flow. She honestly had no clue what she was going to do. When she had finished crying, she repaired her makeup and found the largest handbag she could easily carry through the streets and used an Enlarging charm on it. She began folding clothes and putting them far to the bottom. She could unpack this evening if she found lodging. If not, she would have to stay at the inn her father had always told her about that was for wizards: The Leaky Cauldron. She just hoped that the people in London would be helpful to her. After her clothing was put in, she wrapped all of her pictures up in newspaper from the Daily Prophet. Her father had had it sent to her for years, and she hardly ever read it. As she folded her pictures and a few other breakable items into it, though, she read a few of the latest headlines.

“Potter Vanquishes Dark Lord,” one read, while another read “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: Is He Really Gone?” and another screamed, “DEATH EATERS ON THE LOOSE!” That one seemed to be old, though. Finally, she began packing a few books down into her trunk, which would also go in the bag. She found a scrap book full of all the newspaper clippings that had her half-brother in them. She opened it to see him hugging a bushy-haired girl several years before inside a tent that the article said was where the Triwizard champions were supposed to be meeting. She saw an even newer one from the next year that had his picture and a banner above it that said, “The Boy Who Lies.” She had kept all these pictures of her brother in hopes of one day meeting him and finally being able to tell him who she really was. She just hoped he wouldn't hate or resent her, or worse not believe her.

Finally, having packed her few belongings, she stood and did a once-over on the room to make sure she had left nothing behind. She was glad she did, because she discovered her toothbrush and other assorted bathroom items she had forgotten. She stood in the doorway, and took one final look around her flat. She closed the door behind her and it closed with a definite click that told Christiana there was no turning back now.

She made her way out of the inn, grateful that she didn't spot either of the Willoughby's. She stood just a few feet beyond the inn and turned to Disapparate. She felt something grabbing her hair and tried to shake it off. When she Apparated into an alley just down from the Leaky Cauldron, she finally managed to shake off what turned out to be Andrew Willoughby. She pushed him off her and onto the ground. Feeling no shame whatsoever, she took off running before he had gotten his glasses off the ground.

Once she had slipped into the Leaky Cauldron, unnoticed by Andrew, she leaned against the bar trying to catch her breath. An old man, assumedly the barman, came closer to her.

“What'll it be, little lady?” he asked kindly, and then looked into her face. “Do I know you?” he asked, scrutinizing her facial features. She shook her head, still breathing hard. She had a stitch in her side that wasn't getting better. She slid onto the nearest bar stool and ordered a scotch on the rocks. After she had downed it and calmed her nerves, she decided to ask the barman how to find Diagon Alley.

“Why don't I just take you there myself?” he asked, smiling sweetly. “My name's Tom, by the way.”

“I'm Christiana Dalton, but you can call me Christy. Do you have a room I could let for the night if I don't find something else more permanent?”

“I most certainly do. I have excellent accommodations for ladies. You just come back and see me if you need to.” Tom led Christiana out behind the Leaky Cauldron to a brick wall. He pulled out a wand that looked as if it had seen many years of use. He tapped the bricks in a certain order and the wall began opening onto a bustling city street. She thanked Tom, and he graciously told her to come see him soon and waved goodbye as he walked back in the bar. She looked up and down the street. She didn't even know where to begin to find a job.

Suddenly, she felt a strong hand grab her arm and pull her into a side alley out of sight. She struggled to get free from the grip that was surely bruising her arm. She started to scream, but the person's other hand clapped hard over her mouth.

“So,” she heard whispered in her ear, and she slowly began to recognize the voice. “You thought you could escape me that easily,” the voice hissed. She could feel his hot breath against her cool skin, and it sent shivers down her body. She felt the cold metal of his glasses pressed against her temple. He spun her around to face him, his hand quickly regaining access to her mouth before she could make any sort of noise. Andrew Willoughby had definitely been underestimated.

Andrew hated to be underestimated, just because he was sort of skinny and dressed a bit funny so that he could make appearances in Muggle society. He had wanted Christiana Dalton from the day she had moved into his father's inn a little over a year before. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her, and all he got from her was disdain or a sympathetic smile. She thought it was just a schoolboy crush, but it was so much more than that. It was true love, even though she didn't know it yet. He would make her love him. He crushed her against him and began kissing her.

Christiana was disgusted by the taste of him, but she knew that to let him kiss her a bit was the only way to be free of his grasp. She felt his tongue probe her lips open and she allowed it entry, trying not to gag. As soon as he had stuck it in just about as far as it would go, she bit, and she bit hard. She felt the hot, wet blood fill her mouth with its metallic taste. She didn't loosen her hold on his tongue until she was quite sure his tongue was about to completely sever. Andrew, unable to speak after what the wench had just done to him, drew his fist back and punched her hard in the side of the head. She saw stars, then blessed the oblivion that took her a mere moment later, because Andrew had begun pulling her pants down.

*

“Oy, you there!” a George Weasley called, passing by the alley between Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and the store next to it. He and his brother Percy had been coming back from lunch with their oldest brother, Charlie, when they heard a bit of a ruckus down the alleyway. When George looked, a mousy looking boy with huge glasses, similar to his Divination teacher's in school, had just punched a quite lovely girl in the side of the head and in the eye, and seemed intent on getting her pants off so he could do unspeakable things to her unconscious body. He began to run at them, but Charlie caught him in a vice grip.

Christiana came to, but things were fuzzy. She saw three figures standing at the end of the alleyway, all with red hair. The tallest had Andrew in a choke hold so tight that his face was turning purple. Her pants only had the button undone and they didn't seem to have been taken off. She tried to sit up, but felt immediately dizzy and fell back against the wall, hitting her head again. She moaned. One of the men peered down the alley at her.

“Charlie,” she heard him say to the one holding Andrew, “George and I will take this one to the Ministry official in Gringotts. Why don't you see about the girl?” The one named Charlie nodded, and handed over Andrew to the one named George, and George and the one whose name she didn't know yet took off back in the direction they had been coming from. Charlie headed down the shadowy cobblestone path to Christiana. He knelt down and put his arm behind her head to help her sit up.

“Hi,” he said, smiling, once he had her supporting herself. “I'm Charlie Weasley. Looks like you had a rough time there.”

“Christiana Dalton,” she offered by way of introduction. “You can call me Christy.” She didn't know why she told him that. She had never let anyone but her father call her by that name. “That boy you just took away…did he do anything bad to me?”

“Other than give you some temporary purple eye shadow, no,” Charlie replied with a grin. Christiana gingerly touched her eye. She didn't remember that blow. “He did it after he knocked you in the head,” Charlie said, by way of explanation, seeing her look of confusion. “Do you know him?”

“Yes. His name is Andrew Willoughby. I was his father's former tenant.” Christiana poured out the whole awful story, leaving out her father's and mother's names, for fear of discovery. She had always left out her father's name completely or changed it for their safety, so it was just habit. That and I don't trust him yet, Christiana thought to herself as she finished up by saying that she was searching for a job and accommodations for long term. Charlie listened to her entire story, emotion for her and her situation in his piercing blue eyes.

“I'm so sorry about your father. You say he was killed at the hands of You-Know-Who? He killed a lot of other people, you know. You're not the only one who was affected. He killed one of my brothers.” A tear fell down Charlie's face as he remembered his wonderful brother, Fred. He swiped at it, and a jovial grin spread back across his face.

“I think I know where you can find just what you're looking for. Come with me.” He helped her to her feet, and she took a moment to straighten herself. She buttoned her jeans, and was relieved to find her wand still in one piece. She followed Charlie back out into the bright street and around the other side of a brightly colored joke shop. There was a small side door that opened onto a set of stairs. He led her up the stairs to a small flat that was above the shop.

“My brothers George and Percy stay in that bedroom back there and I sleep on the couch,” he said pointing down the hallway. “But there's a guest bedroom right here on this side of the living area that you're welcome to stay in. It's the only room in the whole flat with double sliding doors.” He showed her how they slid apart to admit one entrance. The room was furnished with a full size bed and a desk. It was small, but Christiana was glad to see anything that she could call a home.

“How would I pay for rent, though?” she asked, turning back to face Charlie. She studied him for a moment. His slightly curly red hair was a bit unkempt from his catching Andrew. His eyes, as she had noticed in the alley, were the color of the Caribbean sea after a storm. Her eyes traveled down his body. He wore a white muscle t-shirt and blue jeans. The shirt pulled tightly across his arms and chest, showing off the cut of his muscles.

“I think my brothers could most likely offer you a job in their joke shop downstairs.” His voice cut through her obvious examination of him. “Like what you see?” he asked, winking at her making her blush. She nodded, not sure if he was asking about the flat or what she thought of him. Either way, she liked what she saw, although she would have been much more reluctant to have admitted the latter. He laughed seeing the look on her face. “Come on, we'll go talk to George and Percy and see if they can't give you a job. George has been harping on me to find someone to work for them for the past week.”

“Why?” Christiana asked, unable to stop herself. She would think that among three brothers, a business would practically run itself.

“Well, my brother Fred, who died in the Final Battle, was George's twin. They ran the joke shop quite well by themselves. But when Fred died, George hired on Percy. Percy is still learning the ropes and they need someone who can basically be in the shop and sell stuff when neither one of them can.”

“What about you?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. “Don't you work there, too?”

“Me? No, I work in Romania with dragons.” That explains the muscles, she thought. “But lately, I've been spending more time with my family. I've realized that I spent far too much time away from them, and told Mum that I would be here most of the time. It helps to be able to have dinner with them almost every evening. I only have to go to Romania when there's a big job. Right now, I'm a liaison between England and Romania dealing with dragons. It's a nice change of pace, and I still get paid.” He grinned as they stopped in front of the joke shop.

Christiana looked up at the brightly painted sign. It read Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. George and Percy were waving them in, and Charlie opened the door for Christiana. She smiled at him and walked in first.

“So, Charlie, you tell us what you've managed to find out about this pretty lady and we'll tell you what happened with the Taco Wizard.” Percy and George dissolved in boyish laughter when George said “Taco Wizard.” Christiana had to admit that the term was pretty funny in itself, but she had no idea what it meant. Charlie just raised one of his eyebrows questioningly.

“Well, it turns out,” Charlie began, “that this `pretty lady' needs a job and a place to stay. She was kicked out by that boy's sister right after finding her father was dead and she didn't have any money. I told her she could stay in that bedroom with the sliding doors if you guys would give her a job here.”

“You finally found me someone! I knew you would come through!” George clapped his brother on the back.

“So, Georgie, tell me about this Taco Wizard,” Charlie said. Christiana hadn't said a word, but was grateful she was going to have a job.

“Well, we took the boy up to Gringotts where Mr. Gibbs was patrolling. We explained what he had done and had been about to do. Mr. Gibbs sent Percy to the Ministry for more officials to take him back because he couldn't leave his station. I was standing there with a good hold on the boy's arm, and he whips out his wand and says he's going to kill us all and be the next You-Know-Who. Apparently, he didn't know any spells worth doing any good, and he started conjuring tacos. They were covering Mr. Gibbs and the Goblins, and they were only making everyone angry. The ones who weren't getting bombarded with tacos were laughing. It was NOT good magic at all!” George exclaimed. Christiana was holding her sides she was laughing so hard.

“When Percy here got back with more Ministry officials, the Goblins were threatening to turn him into a taco. We found out that somehow he had stolen his sister's wand, but he's a Squib. No one could seem to explain how he had managed to produce tacos, but when asked to perform a simple charm nothing happened.”

“Which charm?” Charlie gasped through his laughter.

“He was supposed to perform Accio. Of course, the first time, we thought he was just really bad at magic, because he tried to summon a book and a Goblin did Wingardium Leviosa silently and made the book fly toward him and knock him square between the eyes. Anyway, he's being held at the Ministry until they decide what to do with him. I'm pretty sure he'll get a trial and be put away in Azkaban for a while.”

“So,” Percy said after he had managed to compose himself, “you want a job with us?”