Venice could not find the strength nor the will to pull herself out of bed the next morning. The decision that had seemed so certain and finite the night was now looming, dark and ominous, over her head. She’d dreamed nothing but nightmares, and even in the bright sunlight of early morning it was difficult to shake the dread that hung around her like a thick murky fog.
For a while she lay with her head buried beneath her pillow, trying to convince herself she was still dreaming, but when the sun started shining brightly into the room, even through the heavy curtains, it was impossible to pretend any longer. Groaning loudly, cursing, Venice climbed out of bed. There was a strange tightness in her chest that only seemed to grow when she reached her closet and saw her magenta work robes hanging at the front. Venice pulled them angrily from the hangers and wadded them all into a ball before throwing them toward the back of the closet. Out of sight, out of mind. She yanked on a pair of jeans and a sweater and then stomped her way into the kitchen.
She was halfway through her third cup of coffee when she heard Ginny’s voice outside her door.
–Venice, let me in!â€
Venice considered leaving Ginny in the hallway, but even in her black mood it was impossible to be that cruel to her best friend. Muttering under her breath, coffee in hand, she went to open the door.
Ginny started talking before Venice had opened the door properly.
–Fred and George told me what happened,†Ginny spit the words out, nearly tripping over her tongue in her haste, –but you shouldn’t listen to them. They don’t really want you to leave, Venice! They don’t want you to quit. They’re just a pair of idiots.â€
Venice shrugged her off and swigged another sip of coffee as she debated her next words. Seeing Ginny here, now, in her flat…it only reminded Venice of the decision she’d already made. It was still fixed firmly in her mind, despite her earlier unease; all of the excuses she’d created to keep her job melted away until there was nothing left but resolve.
She was going to quit. It was time.
Sighing, Venice turned to face Ginny.
–I’m going to stop by the shop later…and I’m going to turn in my robes.â€
Ginny’s mouth dropped open.
–What? You’re going to quit?! Venice--â€
–Don’t, ok?†Venice interrupted loudly, –Don’t try to talk me out of it. I’ve made up my mind. I’ll never be able to find Charlie if I keep spending all my time at work, and I am going to find him.â€
Her anger from the previous evening came flaring back to life without warning, boiling hot and strong in the pit of her stomach. She was tired of everyone trying to convince her she was wrong. Ginny was staring at her like she’d officially gone round the twist, and when Ginny tried to speak Venice cut her off again.
–You might have given up, forgotten him, but I haven’t. I can’t, and I won’t. I think maybe it’s time for you to go, Ginny.â€
Ginny was still sputtering, searching for words, when Venice gently, but firmly, steered her back to the door and out into the hall.
–I’ll talk to you later,†Venice said politely, and then shut the door soundly in Ginny’s face.
Not a minute later Ginny was once again shouting her name at the door.
–Venice Moon! You let me in right now! You can’t quit! And what do you mean you’re going to find him? Open the sodding door so we can talk!â€
Venice ignored her and drifted back into the kitchen. She’d no more than set one foot on the tile floor when the room filled with brilliant green light and a blazing fire roared into being in the fireplace, spitting Ginny, quite ungracefully, out onto the floor. Ginny’s ears were a brilliant shade of red and her eyes were bright with fury. She pointed at a chair.
–You. Sit. Now.†Ginny stammered, so enraged her hand was shaking as she pointed.
Venice sat.
–You can’t quit your job! This is entirely ridiculous! What would Charlie say if he heard you talking like this, Moon? He’d tell you to stop being a prat!â€
–I meant what I said! I’m tired of you all acting like I’ve gone insane-Charlie isn’t dead!†Venice choked up at the mere thought but struggled on. –He’s not dead, and I am not going to give up on him. I want him back, and I don’t care what it takes, or what I have to do.â€
–Be reasonable! Let the Ministry handle it-there’s nothing you can do, Venice. Nothing, except go on with your life. It’s time you started learning to let it go. The rest of us have, and it’s not easy, and it hurts like hell, but it’s the right thing to do! We can help you, if you’d let us. I meant what I said before—we’re all here for you, no matter what.†Ginny was choking up now too. –We love you. I love you. You’re family now, and we’re not going to let you sit around in this funk anymore!â€
–A funk? Ginny, it’s barely been a month and you’re all already acting like it never happened at all! Is it that easy for you to forget he’s your brother? That he’s part of your bloody family? I’m not ready to move on—I refuse! Charlie is NOT past tense; he’s still alive.â€
Venice stood up.
–Get out of my flat, Ginny. This conversation is over.â€
–It is not! I’m not leaving, not until I talk some sense into your thick head!â€
Ginny thunked Venice on the forehead with her knuckle as she spoke; Venice shoved her away angrily.
–Get out, Ginny!â€
–No!â€
–GET OUT!†Venice screamed the words with every last ounce of strength she could muster. She stood up, barely aware of the movement, and hurled her coffee cup across the room. It smashed into the wall with a surprisingly loud noise, startling both girls into silence. Hot tears leaked from the corners of Venice’s eyes as she stared Ginny down, her chest heaving with every breath.
Venice had never hated anyone more in her life than she hated Ginny right now.
Finally Ginny nodded, fighting back her own frustrated tears.
–Fine. Fine. I’ll leave. But we are not finished with this conversation. I’ll be back later, when you’re through being completely mentalâ€
Ginny flung the words at Venice and stormed from the room, slamming the front door so hard the whole wall shook.
Venice swore loudly and dropped back into her chair. She hadn’t meant to scream at Ginny like that. Ginny had a point; she was being stupid. She slumped in her seat, mentally berating herself for being such a bloody moron. She wiped the tears from her face with a little more force than was necessary.
Suddenly Venice wanted nothing more than a hot shower, desperate to wash away the mistakes of the day.
~~~
A few hours later Venice was in her bedroom, carefully folding up her magenta robes, trying to ignore the voice at the back of her head that was now screaming at her to reconsider. No more second-guessing herself. No more backing out.
She nodded once, resolve firmly in place, tucked the now neatly-folded robes under her arm, and went in search of her trainers.
Walking down Diagon Alley, she was hardly aware of the frosty chill that hung in the air, despite the fact she’d forgotten to put her sweater on. In her mind she was planning out what she was going to say to the twins. Her breath plumed out before her in a hazy cloud as she walked, but she didn’t notice. Finally the joke shop loomed before her, and she took a deep breath before she climbed the steps and pushed the door open.
The bell jangled merrily as the door swung inward, and down the aisle she spotted both twins seated on stools behind the counter. They both smiled when they saw her, but she didn’t miss the look they exchanged when they spotted the robes beneath her arm.
–Hullo, Venice,†George began warily. His eyes were still on the hot pink bundle under her elbow. –What brings you here today?â€
She hesitated for just a second before launching into the words she’d been preparing.
–You two are bloody brilliant. I love being here, and working for you both, but-†Venice paused, swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat, –I think it’s time I quit. I’m turning in my robes.â€
She threw the bundle of cloth onto the counter, breathing hard through her nose.
Both men were speechless, gaping at her with mouths open.
–Moon, if there’s anything we’ve done, or anything you need us to do, we’ll take care of it—†George began, but Venice shook her head firmly.
–No, no, it’s not you. I love you both—you’re family, you know? I just…I have things I have to take care of, and I can’t stay. I’m so sorry…†Venice broke off, biting the inside of her cheek to stave off another wave of tears.
–Are you sure?†Fred asked. His jaw twitched and Venice would have sworn his eyes grew a bit watery as they locked gazes.
–I’m sure,†she said firmly. Relief washed over her. It was done. She was done.
She gave the twins a faint, half-hearted smile, turned around, and walked back out the door, half expecting one, or both, of the guys to chase after her, but instead the door clicked firmly into place and she was alone on the steps. In the five minutes she’d been in the shop it had started to rain, fat, freezing drops that splattered down mercilessly.
Venice stood on the sidewalk for a brief moment, suddenly not entirely sure what to do next. She began to walk, shoulders hunched against the drizzle. Diagon Alley was nearly empty, people ducking inside buildings as the rain grew heavier. Venice began to walk, headed for Gringotts, wondering if someone there would be able to talk to her about Charlie.
She climbed the marble steps to the lobby, pausing just inside the doors as the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She stared around, trying to figure out what was wrong.
Nothing looked out of place. There were several wizards standing in line, waiting for a teller. Two witches stood near the entrance to the vaults, giggling as they waited for a cart. Several goblins wandered by, chattering noisily.
Suddenly Venice felt someone standing directly behind her, their breath tickling her ear; gooseflesh erupted all the way down her spine. She spun on her heel, expecting to collide with whoever was there, but there was no one. The entryway behind her was empty. Shivering slightly, she crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Again, the sensation of someone standing close behind her. She held her breath, listening intently. A whisper, barely audible. She turned again, searching. A noise; a breath? Then silence once more. Venice spun around once more, slowly. Still nothing.
Now people were starting to stare, discreetly, but watching her nonetheless, wary of her strange behavior. Her cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red. Wishing she could crawl inside her own skin, Venice slowly took a step back, and another, then turned and bolted out the door, completely embarrassed. She was acting like an idiot, again.
Mentally berating herself, she set off back up the street, headed now for the Leaky Cauldron. She wanted a good, stiff drink, something to take care of the chill now spreading through her body. The rain was coming down in heavy sheets now, thunder rumbling quietly in the distance, growing stronger as it grew closer. The temperature had dipped several degrees lower even during the short time she’d been in the bank and now she desperately regretted not having a jacket, or even an umbrella.
Venice ducked into the pub just as a large bolt of lightening lit up the sky bright as midday. She slipped into a booth, shivering, soaked entirely through. The pub was surprisingly full for this early in the afternoon, no doubt due to the weather, and Tom was scuttling around as quickly as he could. He waved at her as she sat down, letting her know he’d seen her come in. Venice rubbed her hands together as she waited, warming her fingers.
Finally Tom appeared at the edge of the table, grinning at her, cheerful as always.
–What would you like, Miss Venice?â€
–Anything warm, Tom,†Venice replied, glancing over at him. He nodded and disappeared again. Venice attempted to wring out her wet hair as she waited, dripping water all over the seat.
Tom returned after just a few moments and set a glass down on the table. She didn’t ask what it was, just picked up the steaming tumbler and took a sip; she felt it warm her throat all the way down. She took another large sip, humming with pleasure as the warmth spread. In no time at all she was no longer shivering. Her head was buzzing pleasantly but when Tom came by to pour her another round she shook him off and stood. She didn’t want to be drunk. She’d just needed to clear her head.
She dropped a couple sickles on the table, bid Tom a good day, and slipped back out the door.
The rain was still pouring from the heavens, big fat droplets that spattered on the pavement; Venice darted into the street and jogged back to her flat. She was shuddering with cold by the time she let herself in the front door. Teeth chattering, she began to peel off her wet shirt as she headed for the bathroom. She was about to step through the door when her foot caught on something and she nearly tripped. Frowning, Venice glanced down. She’d caught her shoe on the edge of the chair that was tipped onto its side directly in front of the door.
–Ginny? Is this you?†Venice shouted, waiting for Ginny’s tell-tale giggle.
Silence.
–Fred? Come on, this isn’t funny!â€
Her heart pounded in her throat. No answer.
She righted the chair, carried it into the kitchen, and halted abruptly in the doorway. Every one of her cupboards was open, the cupboard doors hanging half off their hinges, all the contents strewn haphazardly onto the floor. Food, dishes, silverware, everything. Half of the dishes were broken, the pieces flung far and wide.
Slowly, Venice turned around, facing the living room. It was the same way. Her books had been scattered from the shelves, picture frames on the wall hanging askew, the glass pane broken in every single frame. Even the sofa cushions hadn’t been spared; those had been pulled from the couch and torn to shreds, the stuffing sprinkled all over the rug.
Who had been in her flat?
Venice set down the chair she was still carrying and turned to the hallway in a stupor, wondering vaguely how much other damage was done.
She wandered down the hall, pausing to look at the mess in the bathroom, not bothering to go in just yet. The view from the hall alone told her it hadn’t been spared. Heart thudding loudly in her chest, Venice closed the distance to her bedroom.
She had expected the bedroom to be just as messy as the rest of her flat but the sight of all her clothing, blankets, shoes, everything she owned scattered all over the room was still a shock. Venice was bent over, scooping a pile of sweaters off the floor, when her closet doors slammed open behind her. She had no time to scream, to move, before someone was on top of her, pressing her face into the carpet.
Venice heard a raspy whisper, and then everything went dark.
A Story for Charlie by Darkness Enshrouds
Chapter Notes: So. I definitely did NOT plan on taking a friggin' YEAR to post the next chapter. Sorry, guys. Please don't murder me, ok? (I have cupcakes! :D)