𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲¹ | ✓

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 ; 𝐎𝐇 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃

★·.·´¯'·.·★
. 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚎
★·.·´¯'·.·★

       𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 and shocker, Harry wasn't. Truth be told, Harry was only rude towards Heather all along because he actually liked her and that scared the Merlin out of him. He knew Remus wouldn't mind him dating Heather, Remus knew him after all. Fuck, Harry thought when he saw Heather and George walk past him to get to the portrait of some deranged knight Dumbledore thought was good enough to guard the Gryffindor common room, she looks so fucking beautiful today and I just realized I'm fucked.

"Mate, you okay there? I don't think strangling Scabbers is going to solve your problems." Ron asked and Harry sighed, looking down at his lap and indeed, there was a gray fat lump he was busy strangling. If only they both knew how much it would solve their problems one day. "I mean, I don't mind you having a go at him, heck even I want to, but it's really not going to solve your problems."

"Er—here." Harry said, throwing Scabbers at him and Ron quickly caught his rat and it bit him. Ron had let out a shriek, and Seamus Finnigan laughed at him.

"He bit me!" Ron yelled out, disbelief shining bright in his eyes. "He's never! It's that cat of Hermione's! Where even is Hermione?"

"I dunno, maybe the library." Harry shrugged, really not wanting to talk to Ron or anyone who wasn't Heather for that matter. Maybe he was becoming a tad little obsessed. A tad would actually be kind.

"Heesh, I'd get a headache." Ron snorted and Harry rolled his eyes, he didn't mean to but he did.

"You get a headache from just thinking." Harry pointed out and he saw Ron smirk, apparently very happy with this.

"Blimey Harry, am I that stupid? But honestly, that's rich coming from you." Ron told the boy who lived, lazily gesturing towards him with his hand, which was red thanks to blood. Scabbers had fallen back asleep after he bit Ron, though that was suspected. Honestly, Scabbers was like a middle-aged man with no direction in his life.

Harry let a chuckle escape his mouth before he stood up. "I'm going to check on Hagrid, if you need me, you knew where to find me." As Harry left the common room, Ron shook his head and trailed his eyes over what Harry was writing, thinking it was the Charms essay that was due yesterday. (They both promised Flitwick they'd hand in today, but that didn't happen.) However what he read, left him shocked and he had dropped Scabbers, who pathetically lay limp on the floor even after that.

"Bloody hell." Ron whispered under his breath, looking at the portrait hole in case Harry came back and stuffed the piece of parchment in his pockets. "Just bloody hell Harry."

✦

       "Uh dad, who is Penelope?" Heather didn't know what she said wrong, but her father suddenly toppled over in his chair and went flying to the floor. She had looked at him weird. Wouldn't you if your father suddenly just drops to the ground and flushes an angry red?

"How—what—no one. She's no one." Remus said, not looking his daughter in the eyes and he took his seat again, ignoring the burning gaze Heather sent his way.

"Well, if she's no one then explain this." Heather put a letter on the desk and Remus stared at it. No. No. Penelope can't be contacting their daughter! After all this time?! No, she can't. Why was she doing it now? Why did she leave in the first place? (He knew she was one of the most wanted people by the Dark Lord due to her maiden name, but that still wasn't a good enough reason. Dumbledore could've protected them. But then again, Remus bitterly thought, James and Lily were under Dumbledore's protection, and look where they are now.) She never gave Remus a reason and he blamed it on the fact that he only told her he was a werewolf a week after Heather was born, but he knew if he told her sooner, she would have left him before they could even settle down. Penelope wasn't supposed to contact Heather. She just wasn't supposed to. Heather's going to ask questions now. Remus knew that, he just knew it.

Remus opened the letter slowly, as though he was afraid it would explode in his face, or spray him with something. He knew Penelope, he knew his wife. She was basically the female version of Sirius and James merged together.

Dear Heather,

I know you must be wondering who I am and why I know your name, that I can't tell you, only your father can. I'd understand it if he never told you about me, I wouldn't tell you about him if he did what I did.

Anyway, I hope you're doing fine. I'm quite fine as well, I hope your father is too.

I suppose that's all Heather, till next time.

Penelope.

No, Remus bitterly thought, there wasn't going to be a next time. He was going to write back to her and tell her to disappear, just like she did twelve years ago. She was good at it, why was she trying to resurface again? Heather didn't need her in her life, she was perfectly happy with him, George, Percy and her other friends in her life. She just didn't need Penelope.

Heather watched her father closely and by the look on his face, she knew Penelope wasn't no one. She was someone important. Was it her mother? If so why did she contact her only now? She could've sent the letter years ago when she was still deadbeat on finding more about her mother.

"She's no one important dear, just my nosy sister." Heather said nothing but nod, deciding to let this go. Remus stared at his daughter. Why wasn't she asking questions? Isn't she curious? Was she just going to accept that Penelope was her aunt? Is she finally growing up? Doesn't she want to know why her mother left? Because Remus himself wanted to know why People left when Heather was just one.

"Oh, then I'll be on my way. Goodnight dad." Heather flashed him a smile, feeling the questions burn in her head. She was curious, naturally. The way he acted couldn't just spell out that this Penelope character was his sister. No, maybe it was her mother after all. Who else could it be? She would've met this supposed nosy aunt years ago if this were true. Heather then settled that this was her mother, and that even though she was aching to find out more about her she decided that she'd give her father the time he needed to tell her. That's if he was going to tell her.