Plot Twist [GEORGE WEASLEY]

59.

Upon finding him, amongst the horde at King's Cross , she flew into his arms and savoured his fatherly warmth. Zane squeezed her tight. His free hand held her crown, as if it didn't want to lose her. It was the picture of a heartwarming family reunion.

Not what occurred in the ride home.

Zane cursed, audibly. "I can't tell you what happened to Arthur, Amara. How many times do I've to tell you? It's confidential. Order business," he insisted.

Holding out her pinky finger, Amara implored. "Not even the father-daughter bond can break these measly rules?"

Her father swung the steering wheel, his fingers drumming his agitation on it's leather. Their car rolled on to the driveway into their garage. They were home. A slow exhale hissed out from Zane's teeth. He turned off the ignition, killing the engine's drone.

Amara twisted in her seat and appealed. "They're my friends, dad. I need to know. At least give me a hint. Was it a stabbing?"

"We're wizards. We use wands. Not knives."

"Ok, if you're not budging," she got out of the door and to the backseat to retrieve Athena's cage. Zane followed suit. He sighed as his daughter pressed on. "At least, tell me I can visit them soon. Can we go tomorrow? Wait, what about today? They must be so afraid. Not afraid, something worse. I can't find the word for it."

With a grunt, Zane heaved her trunk out of the car. It landed on the ground in a thump. "You can't go today. It's too soon. I also have some Order duties to attend to. Maybe after Christmas..."

This had Amara sputter obscenities rapidly under her breath. Zane, hearing this, wagged his finger. "Language."

"Can you at least tell me what their address is? I can send them letters," Amara pleaded.

Zane declined this request too. It pained him because his daughter was being a pain. "The Weasleys are hiding out in the headquarters. We can't assure that any communication going in won't be tracked," he scrunched his nose, a habit which Amara inherited from him.

In a fit of irritation, Amara growled and stormed into the house. Zane levitated her trunk on her trail. He sent it to her room in a robust swish of his wand. Athena, who was in the way, leaped beneath the couch. His head turned in the direction of his daughter. He hoped he hadn't upset her much.

In the kitchen, Amara poured water into a kettle, putting it to boil on the stove. She paced there, from the countertop and to the kitchen table and then back. She was truly worried for her friends, he deduced. The eventual squealing of the kettle broke her pacing spell.

"I'll give you your letter to them, okay?" Zane said when she brought two mugs to the living room table.

Amara dropped two tea labels into two mugs. The steam curled from their mug in tendrils, reacting to the cold air. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you going to see them today?"

Under her scrutiny, he was suddenly swallowed into a flashback of her behaving similarly in her toddler years. With that adorable crease between her eyebrows and her downturned mouth urging demands of more marshmallows with her hot chocolate. His resistance to her melted. Zane's weakness was, first and foremost, his daughters.

He smiled and sipped his tea.

"Yes, Amara," Zane indulged her. "I am. I'll ask them when is the earliest possibility you can visit. And I'll pass your letter to them. As long as you can write it in two hours."

At an instant, she leaped to her feet.

"Thank you, dad," she cried and pecked his cheek.

Athena on her tail, she proceeded to her bedroom. Zane heard the drag of the chair and his vinyl of Jacques Jones beginning to play. Her cup of tea was forgotten on the living room table. He chuckled. How much he'd missed her.