Mia Black loves many things. Renaissance paintings, the muggle movie Pulp Fiction (have you seen a narrative timeline so fucked up?)... and maybe George Weasley?
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
nine nine lives
✨
MIA SITS DOWN ON THE FLOOR, and George sits down opposite her. Tears fall down her cheeks, still, as she sits there, her legs crossed and her hands awkwardly clasped in front of her. The argument with Sirius repeats itself over and over; sometimes she misses the dreamy vision she used to have of him, when he wasn't around. That dad wouldn't be like this.
"Harry said you didn't know about the map," says George.
"I didn't," she says, shaking her head.
"The thing is, right, me and Fred only realised the marauders were your dad and his friends last year. And by that point, we had given it to Harry, just out of coincidence," he tells her. He's speaking in a softer voice than usual. She thinks it's sweet... She wishes Cedric was here, of course she does, but this is nice. "If we had known before we gave it to Harry, we would've found you and asked if you wanted it—"
Mia looks across at him. "It's not your fault," she says. "Like, Mum used to say that she saved most of the stories for Dad, if I ever got to see him again..."
She remembers being little, and Emilia would tell her what her dad got up to in school — because there weren't that many happy stories about him, save the ones about the wedding and the ones Mia was there for — but she'd always say, "There's so many more, but he'll tell you every single one, one day. I promise." And Mia, when she got older, started to argue back, but Emilia shook her head. "He'll be free one day." Well. He is, but he isn't.
