four mia goes fourth

✨

       FUCKIN' PRICK, MIA THINKS, as she weaves through the living room in Briar Crouch's house. The lights have been dimmed as a way to set the mood, but Mia doesn't know what this mood is supposed to be, considering in one corner, Briar's gossiping with three French girls, and in another, one of Mia's ex-boyfriends is talking to his friend, and he's staring at Mia the whole time. Fucking fantastic. Mia would rather go ginger than talk to that piece of shit.

       "Hey, Mia..." She hears him say, but Mia walks away before she can hear what else he's got to say. Knowing him it'll be him mentioning Cedric, and somehow turning it into something about himself. That's what he's like. Which is a shame, because he is good looking, and he was nice... Or, at least, Mia didn't notice how full of himself he is, until they were a few kisses deep and she was pretty sure she fancied Cedric, anyway.

       Mia gets herself another drink. What, there's no ginger on her shoulder, telling her, maybe you shouldn't have another, blah blah blah. And, anyway, she's fine. Just because she can't walk in a straight line doesn't mean she's dying. She isn't. Dying, that is. The worst that'll happen is that she'll feel like shit tomorrow. She feels like shit every day, anyway, so what's the difference?

       Like, Merlin, she isn't going to get any sort of addiction. She's a teenager. She's drinking. It's not a big deal... Just because George fucking Weasley is judging her for it, and every other decision she's made in the weeks they've been forced to sleep under the same roof, doesn't mean she's terrible. Fucking hell.

       And then that ex-boyfriend reappears, like a cold in the winter months. Like... Like a cold that doesn't just make you feel stuffy and tired for a week, but also, the kind of cold that leaves your nostrils stinging from the amount of snot dripping out of them, your lips chapped like it's never even thought of petroleum jelly. Like... Your head's so bunged up with your own mucus that you sort-of want to drown in a bowl of chicken soup. Like... Well, you get the gist.

       "I'm guessing you didn't hear me," he says, with that shitty cocky smile he always seems to wear.

       Mia smiles back at him. "Oh, I did."

       "You're funny. I missed your jokes," he tells her, and he laughs at her, but it sounds too condescending for Mia's liking. Mia's trying to find the right time to go, oh, uh, I have a boyfriend, fuck off, please, thanks. "How has your summer been, then? Obviously not the greatest, but... I've been thinking a lot about you."

       "Really," says Mia, nodding along. Shockingly, she wishes George would appear and, like, make this prat so uncomfortable he leaves her alone. "I bet that was super hard for you."

       "I know you went through a lot," he says to her. Mia looks up at him, and raises an eyebrow. This is painfully uncomfortable. She watches his hand, that had been leaning on the kitchen counter, slide towards hers. Jesus Christ. "And if you ever need anyone..."

       "Mia!"

       Oh thank God.

       George appears. Mia doesn't, like, want to act as if she's relieved to see him, but, when she sees the expression across her ex's face fall, she feels a hell of a lot better. Hopefully he'll leave her alone now.

       But here's the funny thing.

       George, by the looks of his shit-eating grin, must think that Mia doesn't want him to show up. Which is hilarious. Mia finds this incredibly funny. She's here, absolutely relieved that he's shown up, and he's here, thinking that him making a fuss is going to annoy her. His grin is funny to her... She likes to think this falls under the whole I'm-part-Salvatore-I-can-sniff-manipulation-out, because maybe that's not the full case here, but, the fact that she reverse-psychology'ed George into helping her? That's got Salvatore written all over it.

       "I was looking everywhere for you," says George, and he's grinning still.

       Mia sees her ex's hand move off from the kitchen counter, having realised that this plan of his is no longer possible. Brilliant.

       "I'll see you around," her ex says.

       Mia snorts. "Totally."

       He begins to walk away, and Mia lets out a laugh, having a drink. "Merlin, don't date Gryffindors," says Mia, shaking her head.

       George's eyes widen. "Hang on."

       "What?" she says.

       "You went out with him?" he says.

       Mia sighs. "Unfortunately."

       George's jaw drops.

       "You went out with Cormac McLaggen?"

       "Yeah," says Mia, and she shakes her head, taking another sip of her drink. "And, like I said, I've learnt my lesson. Gryffindors are stupid, and they shouldn't be dated. Especially little shits like that one that are on the Quidditch team — not even that, but he was a reserve, he was barely on the team."

       George looks at her oddly. "Gryffindors aren't that bad?"

       Mia scoffs. "OK, scarlet bitch?"

       And then she starts to walk away.

       "Hang on," says George, following her. Mia sighs. She'd rather not go into the whole list of who she's been out with. It's boring. All of them ended with the illusion went. She stopped thinking they were all amazing and she couldn't find them attractive after that. Oh, well. "When did you go out with McLaggen?"

       "Uh," says Mia with a frown. "End of fourth year."

       "I thought you went out with Wood?" says George.

       Mia nods. "After that."

       George looks confused. Mia rolls her eyes.

       "Why are you so concerned, anyway?" she says.

       "Because it's Cormac McLaggen?" says George, and his voice goes up an octave, he's that surprised.

       Mia rolls his eyes. "I'm aware."

       "You snogged Cormac McLaggen?"

       Mia nods. "And?"

       "I'm just shocked."

       "OK, well," says Mia with a disinterested frown. "That's weird... You know that's what happens, right, when you go out with someone?" She raises an eyebrow at him. "You know, I snogged Oliver, and Roger, and Graham, as well—"

       "Who's Graham—?"

       She rolls her eyes. "Montague," she tells him. George still looks as if he's in shock, mouth wide open, jaw practically on the ground, eyes widened. Mia looks around, hoping to find someone she knows, even just a little, to talk to them instead. She sees Archie Potter and thinks about talking to him, but then realises that he's friends with George, so George might just follow her. Merlin.

       And then George grins. Like, one of the most mischievous grins she's seen in her life. Mia raises an eyebrow.

       "So you've only been out with Quidditch players?"

       Mia's never thought of that.

       "Shit, I have," says Mia, looking to the side, as if speaking aloud to herself. It's actually a little bit funny, isn't it? Mia has a type, and like, she never even realised it?

       "You didn't notice that?" says George, and he starts to laugh. 

       Maybe Mia starts to laugh, too. "I never thought of it, like that!" she says, and she puts her drink down, to press her fingers against her temples. "Merlin, this is terrible." She glances at George, and she laughs. "I'm pretty sure Alfie plays football."

       "Really?" says George.

       Mia winces. "I can't believe this."

       "You know what," says George, with a grin. "I like how it took me, what, two minutes to realise, and you never thought of it like that?"

       Mia rolls her eyes, but this time, it's sort-of playful? "Yeah, well, at least my type's not ginger," she says.

       George smirks. "But I play Quidditch?"

       "Oh, piss off," says Mia, but she's laughing still.

       "All right — I'll take my broom and Quidditch uniform—"

       "Shut up!" says Mia. She keeps on laughing, and she's pretty sure the lights around her glow a little warmer. Maybe he's not completely terrible. She knows, she's just as shocked as you are.

      George's laughter trails out. A small smile stays on his face, though. "You know what? You're not actually that bad."

       Mia looks up at him, a soft smile across her face. "You too, Weasley."

       She leans against the counter. She feels so fucking strange. Does this mean they're friends now? Mia doesn't know how to feel about this. Part of her thinks about Cedric, and she begins to think about how she misses him. Mia knows she shouldn't do that. She shouldn't spend her whole life wishing Cedric could come back, because he can't. It's a not a question of if Mia's love can send him back to earth, because he's in the ground, and he's dead. But Mia misses him. And she can't help but think what it would've been like, if she went to this party and Cedric had been here, too.

       And now what, she's sort of friends with George? It just feels strange. Mia remembers how much Cedric used to tease her about the before, and she remembers how all of that stopped the second they started treating Cedric like shit because of that stupid Quidditch match. Mia feels strange. Mia misses Cedric. Mia doesn't know what to do.

       Is this her life now? Is everything going to remind her of Cedric, of a boy she loved and was best friends with, but a boy that isn't even here anymore? Is everything going to remind her of Cedric, is every action she does going to make her think of him and make her think, I hope he wouldn't mind this? Is her life going to be nothing but Mia's constant grief and her desperation to please someone that's dead?

       Mia ends up sitting outside, on her own. She thinks George was partly following her because it was pissing her off, so he didn't trail after her when she walked outside. And, besides, she wants to be on her own, with fresh air, to just sit and breathe.

       But then Briar Crouch sits down next to her.

       Here's the thing: Mia likes Briar. Mia's also convinced that Briar Crouch was born perfect. Like, Sharon Tate as Jennifer North perfect. Feeling a little shit and then an actual Barbie sitting down next to you feels incredibly discomforting. It's like, oh, hey, you mere mortal, I've just gotten back from the dream house, why are you looking so sad? What is 'sad,' anyway?

       "Hi," says Briar, and she smiles softly.

       "Uh, hi," says Mia with a frown.

       "I just wanted to speak to you," says Briar, and she sits forwards, slouching a little. Like those Barbies with joints that move properly, so you can pose the doll. "I—I feel guilty about what happened before summer... Like, I get that everything would've happened anyway, but I wish I didn't tell you. I don't know if that made it worse for you, but it makes everything worse for me, and I'm sorry for telling you."

       Mia's surprised, to say the least.

       "I couldn't stop him," says Mia, quietly. "I told him, he was going to die, I told him that you predicted it, and he still went... I don't know what else I could've told him."

       "Sometimes that's what happens," says Briar with a sigh. "But I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have told you... If I knew he was going to say that, I wouldn't have gotten you involved. I shouldn't have gotten you involved... When I have visions, afterwards the future feels all foggy. So I couldn't check. I should've done, though... I'm really sorry..." Briar smiles weakly. "Like, Mia, you're too nice to live like me."

       Mia raises an eyebrow. But she's—?

       "Freddie told me that you've been working at a muggle café," says Briar. Mia feels sick at the name Freddie. That's gross. Get a room. "That's really cool! What's it like?"

       "It's all right," says Mia with a shrug. "I mean, I get paid for it, and I guess it's been nice, taking to muggles. The girls I work with are pretty nice, and sometimes there's leftover cake so we get to eat it... And I met my boyfriend there..."

       "Boyfriend?" says Briar.

       "Yeah," says Mia.

       Briar frowns. "Um," she says. "OK."

       Mia isn't going to ask what that's supposed to mean.

       "How has your, uh, birthday been?" says Mia. She's trying her hardest to be polite. You know what, it upsets her a little, because before all of this happened, Mia didn't struggle to be nice. Mia wasn't so caught up in her own misery that it was mentally exhausting, having to think of how to carry a conversation, what to ask someone. Mia's always liked talking to people about themselves. Maybe she's a little shy, yeah, but she's always been good, talking to people. She likes asking questions, because yeah she's shy, but if the other person's answering, then they do most of the talking. Mia can just nod and comment if need be. But now, it's hard.

       Briar shrugs her shoulders. "It's been all right, thanks," she says. "I mean, it's one of those things, isn't it, where you build it up but they're never actually that good? I mean... It has been good. It's been really good. Strange that I'm an adult now, though."

       Mia smiles awkwardly. "You're a grandma now."

       Briar pulls a face. "God, no," she says. "My biggest fear is wrinkles."

       Mia can't imagine Briar having wrinkles.

       "It has been good, though," says Briar with a nod. "You know, if you need anyone to talk to... You can talk to me. Like, honest, I have been to the moon and back with different problems, I'm happy to sit and listen."

       Mia doesn't have to force a smile this time. "Thanks."

✨

       SO MAYBE MIA SITS ON THE LANDING with the twins the following afternoon, brows furrowed at the sight of the ear dangling on a piece of string. So maybe Mia befriends Fred rather quickly, down to a mix of (a) his twin seems to be cool with her now, and (b) his girlfriend seems to be cool with her. So maybe Mia tries her hardest to cool it with how pissed off she feels. Her mum always says that it's not good for your soul, being angry all of the time — and whilst Mia thinks that's bullshit, she'd rather not end every day storming up the stairs because her dad has pissed her off again. Maybe her dad talks to Harry and not her. Maybe her dad tries but falls miles too short, because he doesn't know her and he doesn't try to know her. And maybe Mia still feels angry, all of the time, but she'd prefer it, if her entire summer wasn't just I am incredibly pissed off and now I am crying... again... And the lights have broken... Again...

       Mia leaves her job halfway through August, since the new person needed training and blah blah blah it works out for her, anyway, so she's cool with it. But the main thing is, for the last half of August, Mia's at Grimmauld Place, every single day. And she broke up with Alfie the day before she finished her job, telling him that she has to move away and all of this. Honestly Mia didn't want to, but in her mind, when she leaves the job, she leaves him too. Her few weeks pretending to be a muggle called Aria are all over and done with, and Mia's got some extra cash and some new earrings to remember it. (And some new boots! White leather ones with gold hardware. They look super cool with a black-on-black 'fit.)

       On one of the days, she ends up getting roped into tidying the house with the entire Weasley cult, cleaning the doxies living in the drawing room. Mia remembers the gross little fairies from school, and even now, the big bug eyes give her the creeps — so much so when one tries to fly near her, Mia panics and the doxy catches on fire, which pisses it off even more, despite the hindrance of the fire.

       Weirdly, though, George mumbles a Water-Making Spell before his mum notices, and Fred grabs onto the doxy. Mia frowns at George. "Thanks...?"

       "No problem," says George, and he puts his hand on her shoulder — and, as he lifts it back off, she sees a hand-shaped print of Doxycide on her t-shirt. She scowls at him, and he grins back.

       She could kill him.

       She was in a nice outfit as well. Basic, but nice nonetheless. A black t-shirt, tied at her waist, and a denim miniskirt. And, because they all needed to use scarves to cover the lower half of their faces, to block out of the smell of the drawing room, she has pure leopard print draped around her. It's weird but it's a look. Maybe not what you wear spraying doxycide everywhere, but Mia never dresses for the weather.

       Cedric used to make fun of her for it. It would be Halloween and Mia would be there, bundled up for the depths of winter, rather than autumn. Thick turtlenecks and jeans tucked into her snow-boots, with a pretty belt tying it all together. She was way too warm, sure, and maybe the next day she'd show up in something like today, maybe with tights as well, but Mia would always shrug, and go, "I dress for the weather I want it to be."

       And then Cedric would call bull, and Mia would laugh and continue, "... Or, maybe, I miss my snow-boots. They're so comfy. Winter cannot come soon enough, with clouds like these on my feet."

       Mia glances to the side, a few minutes later, and notices Fred trying to squeeze the venom out of the burnt doxy's teeth. She isn't getting involved. That's all there is to it. She guesses it helped the two of them out, getting some doxy venom. Maybe she's been spending more time with them, but Mia doesn't think they're friends, nor does she want to be. Maybe it helped her out, George scaring off Cormac, and maybe it helped them out, Mia accidentally handing over a doxy.

       Around lunchtime a guy called Mundungus, who's in the Order, shows up with something dodgy — or at least that's what Mia figures happens, because Mrs Weasley leaves the room to make sure everything's all right, since Mia's dad had answered the door (which sort-of derails the whole keeping him hidden situation, but whatever) and already Mia can hear the grumbles.

       "Isn't that what he was doing the night he was supposed to be tailing me?" says Harry, the lot of them trying to listen in. Mia crosses her arms, wanting to go back upstairs. She's had enough of everyone for one day. "Picking up dodgy cauldrons?"

       "Dodgy cauldrons," says Fred.

       George shrugs. "More like stolen, knowing him."

       Mia's unbothered. "Fun."

       Fred steps forwards towards the door, to try and listen in better, but because of the thick layer of dust coating this side of the door, he can't get too close, anyway. He looks back at George. "Can't hear properly..." he says. "D'you reckon we can risk the Extendable Ears?"

       "Might be worth it," says George. "I could sneak upstairs and get a pair—"

       Mia frowns. "But why?"

       George frowns back at her. "Well — because!"

       But, at that moment, Mrs Weasley begins to shout, on the other side of the door. Mia grimaces. Sometimes she worries she can feel people's, well, feelings. Other times she thinks she doesn't like shouting.

       "I love hearing Mum shouting at someone else," says Fred, looking pleased with himself. He looks back at George, who nods in agreement. "It makes a nice change."

       George shakes his head. "The idiots are letting her get into her stride. You've got to head her off early, otherwise she builds up a head of steam and goes on for hours," he says. Mia's amazed they don't realise how well they get their mum, and how well their mum gets them. "And she's been dying to have a go at Mundungus ever since he sneaked off when he was supposed to be following you, Harry — and there goes Mia's grandma again—"

       Mia swears under her breath, taking off the scarf she had wrapped around her face. She could practically feel the anger of that portrait boiling up, like a kettle whistling in another room.

       Over the summer it's become apparent that Mia, out of the two (two) remaining heirs to this shithole, is the only one able to calm down the portrait. Her dad hates his mother, which is understandable, and since Mia, at one point, felt Grandma Walburga's anger, she deals with her better. Or at least well enough to close the curtain on her, and drown her out.

       Mia's about to walk into the hallway, to calm down her grandmother's portrait, but Kreacher appears out of nowhere, skulking from one side of the room to the door, grumbling to himself. When he passes Mia he raises his hand, saying he'll wash the scarf, and Mia hands it to him. He likes her. Hermione's seething, sure, but Mia doesn't see her doing her own laundry, anyway?

       "Hello, Kreacher!" says Fred, loudly.

       Kreacher looks up at him, incredibly unimpressed. "Kreacher did not see Young Master," he says, and he bows, but as he faces the ground, he adds, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."

       "Sorry?" says George. "Didn't catch that last bit."

       "Kreacher said nothing," says Kreacher, and again, he bows, and adds, "And there's his twin, unnatural little beasts they are."

       Mia shrugs, looking at Fred and George. "It's a valid point."

       "... and there's the mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my mistress knew, oh how she'd cry..." Kreacher continues.

       Mia frowns. "Kreacher."

       "Yes, Miss Emilia?" he says, and his tone changes completely. He bows again, only this time, he means it, his small body practically at a ninety-degree angle. She doesn't exactly know what she's going to say, but she thinks he's unfair and she doesn't like it. Part of her wants to say, "Don't be a dick," but she worries that will (a) not make sense to Kreacher, and (b) sound similar to what her dad as a teenager would've said, and like, Mia isn't exactly complaining that Kreacher likes her, so, she doesn't want him to hate her... Which is valid, when he could fuck up her clothes in the washing.

       "Can you stop—?"

       But then her dad walks into the room, and Kreacher turns around violently, bowing so intensely his nose's almost touching his toes. Mia sees her dad, and hears the portrait screaming, and moves past him, to go and calm her grandmother down.

       She looks up at her grandmother in the portrait, at her black eyebrows slanted downwards, angry, but despite of the pure rage her black hair is still in it's fancy updo, ringlets all tied up into a bun. Mia frowns at her grandmother.

       "Hey, Grandma..." She lets out a sigh as she speaks. Mia remembers when she was little, before Walburga died, and how her mum would take Mia to visit her grandma, every once in a while. Her mum didn't enjoy it, Mia knows that now, but she thinks her mum felt bad, having this woman's grandchild, and not even letting her meet her. Her mum's like that. Mia bets she would've known her mum's godfather if he hadn't been killed.

       "Emilia, those filthy blood traitors are ruining my home—!"

       Yeah, well, you're ruining my hearing, screaming so much. "OK, well, you are dead, Grandma, so, it isn't your business?" says Mia, giving her a look. This annoys her, actually. Her grandmother's just as unfair as Kreacher. She understands why her dad left, to be honest. "Like, I'm not being funny, but, how do portraits even hear? Like, you're just acrylic, I'm a little confused, actually... Is it, like, part of the magic of a moving portrait? Speaking of, how do portraits move? Are they enchanted after they're painted? Merlin... I haven't painted since Cedric."

       Bingo. And Mia wasn't even trying.

       "Cedric," says her grandmother, her voice soft. Or, at least, soft for her. "Hm. You showed me his picture, wasn't that a waste of a handsome, pureblood boy..."

       Mia doesn't reply. Instead, she pulls the curtain over her grandmother's portrait, which stops her from seeing any of the so-called undesirables, in her eyes, walk past her. Mia looks up at the cloth, and she sighs. What a waste.

.......... anyways mia's jasper hale and freddie stroma??? plays cormac mclaggen?? in the films??? these are both things u should know xo hope u enjoyed