02/05/2001
The Rousseau's Residence, Kingswear, Devon
¬

[ h o m e ]

"SHE'S HERE! SHE'S HERE! PLAY IT COOL, PLAY IT COOL, PLAY IT COOL."

"Babe, you play it cool," Cameron ran his hands up and down Ezme's arms to calm her nerves down.

"Okay..." Ezme took a deep breath, "Okay."

She peeked through the window and saw George doing the same thing Cameron did to Elinor before slowly walking up the stairs.

Ezme opened the door before Elinor or George could knock.

Nearly a minute passed with the two girls staring into each other's eyes.

The first thing Ezme immediately noticed was Elinor's complexion. It was no longer ghostly pale like she remembered at the ICU. There was even pinkish tinge on the apples of her cheeks.

And then she noticed the basket of chocolate cakes clenched tightly within her fingers.

A jacket she recognized as George's thrown over her shoulders.

George himself was wearing a long sleeved polkadot shirt with a maroon vest.

"I— I thought you're taking care of her well, George!" Bielle was the first to speak, "Look at my daughter! She looks like she lost a lot of weight! Come here, Ellie."

Bielle took Elinor's wrist and gently tugged her towards the dining table. An assortment of healthy foods were beautifully placed on it —toasts, tall stack of pancakes, English set, croissants, a salad bowl, waffles, fruits, omelette, a pitcher of orange juice, another pitcher of mixed berries... A sunflower put in a see through vase acted like the centerpiece.

"Sit down." Bielle ordered curtly as she took the seat beside Elinor. "Eat."

She was always like that. Terse, sharp, reprimanding, but secretly caring. Elinor knew that her mother made this all by herself. She knew because when she was first discharged from the hospital, three years ago, she cooked the exact same things.

Elinor shakily took a bite from the waffle...

...and she cried.

She was too busy being selfish, trying to keep her secrets unknown, that she forgot how much she actually missed her foster family. How much she was indebted to them. How much she had really, really grown to love all four of them.

Elinor felt a hand patting her shoulder and she turned to engulf Bielle in a big hug.

She was a blubbering mess of unladylike snorts, snots, and hiccups —a mixture of all things the distinguished French woman hated, but the latter returned the hug in full force.

"I— I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Mama. I love you. I love you—"

Bielle hushed, "It's okay, ma jolie fille. We love you, too. You're home now, mon bébé."

Ezme joined in the reunion. Then Cameron, then Etienne. The Rousseaus were once again complete.

And George waited for a minute or two before joining in as well (because, as Elinor's future husband, he was also a part of the family, and standing alone on the side was too awkward for him to endure).

☆★☆

02/05/2001
The Rousseau's Residence, Kingswear, Devon
¬

"ACTUALLY... WE HAVE TO GO SOMEWHERE AGAIN."

"What? Where? Why? What for?" Ezme exclaimed, followed by her boyfriend, "But, after that, she's coming back here, right? You're coming back here, right?"

"Don't worry. I will personally make sure that she stays here for the rest of her life," George announced solemnly.

"Wher' arr you takin' her, Jorge?"

"It's... Well, it's my brother's death anniversary today, and I asked her to accompany me to visit his grave with my family."

Elinor glanced at him and sent him a small grin when she saw him smiling assuringly her way. They were picking on the last bit of their breakfast. Elinor's nose was still red and she was still sniffling every once in a while.

"That's... a bad omen, isn't it?" Bielle suddenly said uncomfortably.

"What, Mama?"

"Your boyfriend's brother's death..." she said to Elinor, "Coincides with your birthday, Ellie. I don't like that."

Elinor and George blanched.

Of course they did. The reason of Elinor's appearance in Devon and the reason of Fred's death are one and the same.

The two exchanged knowing glances.

"Actually..." Elinor began. A part of her wanted her lips to stop moving and kept everything about her real self a secret, but another part of her remembered Cameron saying that they deserved to know. And now that she believed that they truly were a family, despite their different bloodline, she finally wanted to tell. "Actually, Mama... Papa, my birthday is— it's on November 29th."

At first she was engulfed in painful, awkward silence, but then Ezme slammed her hands on the dining table and pointed her index finger accusingly at her.

"I KNEW IT! YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN ME! I'M THE BIGGER SISTER!"

"You remember?!" Cameron exclaimed incredulously, "Since when?"

"Are you feeling okay, honey?"

"Tell us— tell us ev'ry zing you know!"

Elinor found herself smiling gleefully and words poured out of her lips, "I... My name is really Elinor. My birth mother was dead and my father... was not a good man. Papa, I don't want to associate myself with my past. This is my family. I'm a Rousseau... right?"

Bielle put a hand on her shoulder, "Of course you are, Ellie. You're my baby."

"YOU'RE YOUNGER THAN ME!" Ezme shrieked hysterically, "YES!"

☆★☆

02/05/2001
The Rousseau's Residence, Kingswear, Devon
¬

"ELLIE, WE HAVE TO GO."

If George thought about it, Elinor and him were always throwing each other concerned or assuring looks.

Either he was concerned about her (especially about her health, her response to magic, her hidden identity as a witch) and she assured her that she was fine, or she was concerned about him (especially about his grief) and he assured her that he was fine.

This time, when Elinor first brought up her real birthday, George couldn't think of anything else except for her wellbeing. But as he watched how the scene played afterwards, his concern melted away.

She was a whole lot better in dealing with her magical identity.

"Okay," Elinor replied with a nod, "I'll be back in the evening."

"Oh, wait!" Ezme ran over to the kitchen and disappeared behind the staircase that led to Elinor's bedroom. She emerged out in a few seconds with the older-now-younger girl's slingbag and a white sundress. The pompom keychain they bought together in London dangled loosely on its zip.

"Here, your wallet and phone is inside. Text us every hour. And, please, change. No offense, Weasley, it's part of your charm."

"None taken," George shrugged.

"Every few hours?" Elinor countered with a grimace.

"Fine. Every two hours."

"You do know that we can't use our phones in Hogwarts, right?" George whispered to Elinor's ear.

"I know," she whispered back.

"Every few hours if I remember. See you soon, okay?" Elinor ignored Ezme's protest and proceeded to kiss Bielle, Etienne, and Ezme's cheeks. She gave Cameron a long, thankful hug, and he returned it with a quick brotherly peck on the crown of her head.

"Merci, George," Bielle said to him sincerely.

"Anytime, Auntie."

"Uh, everyone?"

George turned to look at Elinor, who was glueing her eyes to her bare feet.

"I—" she stuttered, "I'm going to get better, I promise. I won't die."

Then Elinor grabbed George's arm and hurriedly pulled him out of the vicinity.

He grinned, replaying her last sentence in his mind. If George thought about it, too, lately... she was the main reason of his happiness.