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Summary: Shared pain doesn't lessen, but misery loves company. Dawn wishes for some company.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Dawn-CenteredamusewithaviewFR1322,1910182,60916 Mar 0816 Apr 08No

Sorrow Shared

Disclaimer: I own neither the Buffyverse, nor the Harry Potterverse.

A/N: This is dedicated (and blamed on) FaithUnbreakable for resurrecting the idea of twins from my bunny graveyard. Warning, this is sad and I don't foresee a happy ending.


Stupid literal demons.

Dawn lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking. She hated thinking. Thinking led to musing and musing led to remembering and that was always of the bad. Her eyes flicked over to her clock, a big honkin' grandaddy with twelve hands.

Two of those hands didn't bear thinking about, and she quicly looked past them to the others. Five pointed to 'sleeping' and no surprise, it was almost four in the morning. Two were still pointed to 'work' and she wondered idly what it was that was so important. The last three were stuck firmly on 'home' but even as she watched she saw one flick to 'travel.' A corresponding muffled pop exploded from downstairs.

Dawn continued to stare at the clock, her eyebrows pulled into a faint frown as her teeth worried her lower lip. Sighing, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, grabbing a thick, fluffy robe. She left the lights out and limped to her kitchen by feel, knowing that was where he was waiting for her.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Let's get good an' pissed, ay?"

She said nothing, merely went to the cupboard and returned with two tumblers. From his faintly glazed look it was apparent that he'd started before her. Well, wouldn't do to let him get too far ahead. She knocked back the first drink with barely a grimace as it burned down her throat. Dawn gasped as fire seemed to explode in her stomach, her eyes watering faintly.

He was watching her, smiling his 'gotcha' grin.

"That's not Ogden's Finest!"

He made a show of turning the bottle and frowning at the label, "Why, you're right sister-mine. Whatever shall we do?" He filled her glass generously before answering his own question, "We'll finish the bottle and send Charlie our fondest thanks."

She grabbed the bottle and her eyes almost bulged from their sockets. "Dragon Venom? Charlie gave you Dragon Venom?" Her shock didn't keep her from gulping her second glass down, this time a little more prepared for the explosion in her body.

"Gave implies knowledge... let's call it a generous temporary loan."

Dawn attempted to muster up a disapproving glare, "Very generous considering they don't make the stuff anymore. Viro Dracorean died in the first war and his son died in the second. Nobody knows how to make the stuff anymore."

"Best enjoy it then, without remorse." He himself was smacking his lips after his third tumbler, her scolding in no way hampering his ability to pour and drink. He planned to get thoroughly wasted tonight, and tomorrow night, and the night after that and the night after that... His sister was his favorite drinking partner, but if she didn't appreciate the trouble he went to then - "Of course, if the remorse is too much for you..."

"I never said that," she replied quickly, pouring herself another. "I merely wished to point out that we are going to owe Charlie, big time." Her eyes went hazy, "I could always offer to whip up some more burn salve, or maybe I could let him in on that new potion I've been trying to - "

"No shoptalk," George whined, "M'head's all full of facts 'n figures from goin' over the books!"

"Y'should be used to it by now! You've had the place for what, three years now?"

George frowned down at the reddish-amber liquid in his glass. "He did the books."


They fell silent, the quiet only disturbed by the clinking of tumbler against bottle or bottle against table as they drank. Pretty soon the walls started looking fuzzy, and the lamplight in the kitchen bathed their blurred faces in a soft glow.

"So hard," George mumbled. His head was level with the bottle now and his limbs were heavy with alcohol. "Nob'dy unnerstans. Mum's tryin' t'set me up wi' some g-girl from da's office 'n all I want to do is - "

" - cry," Dawn finished for him. "S'like a piece a'me... it's jus' gone. Missing." She heard a snuffling gurgle and raised bleary eyes to her younger brother. He was dead to the world, passed out cold on the table. "Canna hold 'is drink."

Stumbling to her feet she gave a low 'oof' as she levered him off the table. Her hands locked around his chest under his arms, she dragged him to the sofa in the other room and dumped him there. Dawn sat back, waiting for the room to stop spinning before she headed back up to her room. She managed to set a wastebasket by his head as a last small courtesy before she left.


End Part 1/3(?)

A/N2: Like it, love it, loathe it? Lemme know!
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