Plot Twist [GEORGE WEASLEY]

47.

She did not know how this happened. Somehow, she had become part of the cleaning crew for Grimmauld Place 12. She gagged. The putrid smell of the room they were in was burning her nose.

Mrs. Weasley passed scrubs and a bottle of cleaning agent around. Ron uncapped the bottle. In an instant, a foul smell penetrated their nose. Amara covered her mouth. "Ick!"

Ron did not waste time being idle.

Being scared of his mother's wrath, Ron urged Amara to start cleaning. The two worked in harmony. Ron would ask questions and so would Amara. This quelled the boredom and disgust that came with doing the task.

In the corner of her eyes, Fred and George were getting rid of these creatures. How dreadful they looked! They lived in these disgusting corners. She had never seen them before. Amara shivered, turning back to her work.

George had not thawed towards since they had 'reunited'. His eyes never met hers. He deigned to be near her. He would not even ask her to pass the water jug.

It angered Amara that he would hold such a grudge. For what reason? A thing as futile as a crush. This entire situation was absurd. Amara noticed her mind heading into a dark place.

"Ron!" exclaimed Amara. "Tell me a joke!"

"Uh..."

Ron tapped his chin. He snapped his fingers. "What do you call an alligator that reads maps?

"What do you call it?"

"A navigator."

This made Amara snicker a bit. Ron chuckled. "Thanks, Ron. That helped."

She swore George's head had swiveled for a brief moment. She smirked. "Hey Amara! I got another one."

Amara turned to Ron.

"What are the strongest days of the week?"

"Tuesday? Friday?"

"No. Saturday and Sunday. The rest are week days."

Amara chuckled more.

"You should be a comedian, Ronald," joked Amara, nudging him.

George scoffed in the background. Amara was not sure if it was towards them. Though she had a hunch.

They spent the next few hours cleaning. Amara's t-shirt stuck to her back amid the August heat. Whenever she stretched, the wet fabric detached from her skin like glue. It was so uncomfortable that she was beyond grateful to see her father in the doorway.

Amara begged him not to take her again until Mrs. Weasley cleaned the house. The only promise he gave her was that she would not have to come everytime he did. With a playful wink, he added that it could be her birthday present.

"Ha ha," muttered Amara, sardonic, following her father out of the house.

Her birthday was coming up in a week or two. Everyday, her excitement grew a little more. Not because she had big plans. She just wanted to do something special. After all, seventeen was an important age. She could start using magic!

Amara shut the door behind her. She drew the curtains close. It was nighttime. All she could see was dark blue. And of course, the stars glittering above her. But that was not what she wanted to see now.

Kneeling, she reached under the bed. A box lay under the dark expanse. She could not see it. Her fingers stumbled into a firm cardboard texture. Ah, here it is. The box squeaked across the floor.

Removing the top, she picked up Colin Grindelwald's journal. Her hand swiped through the pages. She wanted to scour this journal for more clues. She was going on an adventure and wanted to be prepared.