Chapter Text
Chapter 4: Dinner at the Burrow
Iara’s P.O.V
Iara felt a small knot in her stomach as The Burrow appeared in front of her. The house seemed even more welcoming than she had imagined, with its crooked walls and the roof that always looked like it was about to collapse but somehow never did. It was a place that overflowed with human warmth, and as she looked at the house, she could already feel a little of the vibrant energy that surrounded it.
"I warned you." Hermione said, giving a gentle smile. "It’s like a big mess here, but it’s our mess."
Iara laughed softly, nodding. "I don’t mind the mess. I just don’t really know how to act in big families."
Hermione looked at her with a compassionate smile. "Relax. They’re great, just... well, you’ll see."
When the door opened, Iara was greeted with a warm "Hello!" and a tight hug from Molly Weasley, who, despite being a robust woman, had a welcoming softness. Iara instantly felt enveloped by her presence.
"You must be Iara! Hermione talks about you all the time. Welcome!" Molly exclaimed, leading Iara inside with a wide smile.
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. It’s a pleasure to be here." Iara replied, feeling genuinely touched by the warm reception.
The smell of homemade food filled the air, and Iara soon noticed the number of people in the house. To her, it felt like a place where laughter and conflict happened at the same time, and that fascinated her. She was a magizoologist, and she had often ventured to isolated places for her work, but something inside her longed to understand this strong and present family connection.
"So, how’s it going, Iara?" said Ron with an easy smile. "I’m glad you came."
Iara smiled, a little embarrassed. "Well, Hermione talked so much about The Burrow, I couldn’t miss the chance to see it."
Ron guided her to the table where more family members were seated. Ginny was sitting next to Harry, and Iara took a seat beside Hermione, near a window that overlooked the garden.
Ginny looked at Iara with an interested smile. "So, what do you think of England so far? Getting used to everything?"
Iara made a playful face, fiddling with her hair. "Still adapting. The landscape is very different, and the weather... well, it’s something, right?"
Ginny chuckled lightly. "Oh, yes, you’ll get used to it. But you’ll definitely notice that the weather here has a sense of humor of its own."
Iara smiled. "I hope it makes me laugh more than it makes me cry."
Ginny laughed again, finding the response amusing. "I think it will, but it’ll be a fight."
Molly came over with a plate full of food, and Iara, although not usually one for big meals, couldn’t help but marvel at the smell of roasted potatoes and chicken in sauce. She felt like she was being cared for in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
"Eat up, dear. And if there’s any leftover, you can take it home." Molly said with a smile that seemed more like a loving command.
Iara laughed and served herself, savoring every bite. It was comforting to be here, surrounded by so many people who cared. More than that, she felt like she was beginning to fit in, even if it was in a shy way.
"So, what brought you to England?" asked Percy, who had been listening attentively to the conversation, always with that serious but friendly air.
"I was called by the British Ministry of Magic; they needed someone with experience in magical creatures that inhabit unexplored regions, with unpredictable behaviors due to their isolation."
"That sounds... exciting." Ginny commented with a laugh. "But I’d be scared, to be honest."
"I’d be scared too." Iara replied with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. "But it’s my job. Sometimes, it’s more interesting than dangerous."
She felt herself becoming more immersed in the conversation as everyone around the table shared their stories, laughs, and even some complaints. Iara realized she was enjoying herself more than she had expected.
While Iara was immersed in their stories, Arthur Weasley, always fascinated by anything related to international magic, couldn’t hide his excitement.
"Castelobruxo...!" he exclaimed, almost jumping out of his seat. "I never imagined I’d meet someone from there! I’ve always heard about the incredible techniques for handling magical creatures and the research in herbology. It must be fascinating! How do you go about cataloging those rare creatures? I’m sure there are species here that we can’t even imagine!"
Iara smiled, appreciating Arthur’s enthusiasm. It was clear he had a deep love for all things magical, but especially those related to understanding and preserving magical creatures.
"It’s a very meticulous job." she said, adjusting her posture as she began to speak about her passion. "We mostly work with creatures that are either endangered or have been misunderstood, like the boto-cor-de-rosa (Amazon pink river dolphin), which is often seen in rivers and lakes, but has a bad reputation. They are incredibly intelligent. At Castelobruxo, our mission is to ensure these creatures are safe and in harmony with their environment."
Arthur, unable to sit still with his always open mind, interjected.
"That’s fascinating! I’m always amazed at the variety of magical creatures that exist. Each one with its own peculiarities, and there’s still so much to learn about them. How do you study them? Is there any particularly rare or interesting creature at Castelobruxo that no one else knows about?"
Iara smiled, enjoying Arthur’s enthusiasm.
"Well, we have some creatures that are quite rare, but one of the biggest challenges is cataloging them. Many of them live in remote areas and aren’t easily accessible. But, as you said, the variety is impressive."
At this moment, Fleur, who had been feeding baby Victorie a little farther away until now, joined the conversation with a graceful smile. Upon hearing Iara talk about magical creatures from Brazil, her expression softened.
"Ah, Iara, I knew your name had something special." Fleur commented with a gleam in her eyes. "I’ve heard legends about a Mère des Eaux (Mother of Waters), a mysterious figure connected to rivers and lakes, with a certain charm. Like the veelas, you know... They have the ability to attract men with their allure, but the Mère des Eaux is much more complex. I imagine you have some connection to this legend, don’t you?"
Iara, surprised that Fleur knew about this, smiled. She knew her name had deep origins, but she hadn’t expected Fleur to know about the Iara's legend, a figure that was both mystical and protective.
"Yes, you’re right." Iara said with a shy smile. "My name, ‘Iara’, is a tribute to the Mother of Waters. She’s a mysterious entity connected to the waters, with the ability to protect and enchant those who approach. The legend is very old, and for me, it’s an important part of my identity. But as far as I know, it really is just a legend."
Fleur gestured with her hands, as if admiring the meaning behind the name.
"That makes a lot of sense. It’s such a powerful and beautiful connection with nature." She leaned back in her chair with a calm smile. Iara felt welcomed by Fleur’s words and the interested glances from everyone at the table. The conversation moved on to other topics, but she was starting to feel that she had truly found a place where she could share her stories and knowledge.
Suddenly, the kitchen door opened, and all eyes turned to the newcomer. A tall man with messy red hair appeared in the doorway, hesitating for a moment before stepping inside. He stood still in the entrance, his expression distant, as if evaluating the situation. The tension in the room seemed to rise, and Iara noticed that he appeared hesitant, as if undecided, but finally, he approached the table, as if silently deciding to join the conversation.
George's P.O.V
George stood at the doorway of the house, listening to the lively conversation inside. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing there, but something kept him from leaving. The noise of the conversation felt distant, yet he couldn’t stop listening, as though the words being spoken carried more weight than he imagined. His fingers gripped the doorknob as he hesitated, wondering if he should enter or not.
Finally, with a low sigh, he crossed the threshold. All eyes turned to him, and for a moment, George felt exposed. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the curiosity on the faces before him or simply the fact that he was there, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sorry for being late,” he muttered, more out of habit than any real intention to apologize.
Arthur tried to ease the tension by pulling George into the conversation.
“Ah, George! You’re here! We were just talking about magical creatures and ancient legends. I think you’d love to hear about it, especially since Iara has so much experience with rare creatures. Maybe you could add something to the conversation!”
George sat down, trying to appear at ease, but everyone could tell he was more introspective than usual. He forced a faint smile, but his mind seemed far away.
As he sat at the table, George smiled faintly while responding to everyone’s greetings. The joy around him felt like a illusion, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that, while everyone seemed to be moving on, he was still trapped in constant grief. It felt like he was stuck in time, while their lives moved forward.
“Hey, George! How’ve you been doing?” Percy asked, trying to keep a casual tone, though he was clearly nervous.
George grimaced, biting into a piece of bread with a forced smile.
“Oh, you know, Percy... keeping the shop running, trying not to accidentally blow anything up, as usual.” he replied with a sarcastic tone.
That kind of joke, once common between them, now felt hollow. No genuine laughter followed, and George simply looked away, focusing on his plate to avoid the growing discomfort.
Arthur, as always, was animatedly discussing something about his work and began talking enthusiastically about some inventions and discoveries at the Ministry. Molly, with her usual energy, busied herself filling everyone’s plates, trying to smooth over the tension George felt, but he knew no one truly understood.
He felt a slight pressure in his chest—not from the jokes or his family’s attempts at distraction, but because the void inside him, the empty space where Fred used to be, seemed to grow bigger.
“It seems like everyone has something new, something to be excited about.” George thought bitterly. “Meanwhile, here I am… and everyone, without exception, is so caught up in their lives. Will they ever really see me for who I am? Or are they just moving on while I’m the only one who doesn’t know what to do without Fred?”
George couldn’t—and didn’t want to—talk about it. He never did. Yet the weight of not being able to share his pain with his family left him feeling even more anguished.
Soon, someone mentioned introducing him to the new guest of the evening. Iara, who had been sitting in front of him, looked at him with curiosity. George felt her gaze and, for a moment, hesitated. She seemed like a calm young woman, very beautiful, he had to admit, but he wasn’t in the mood to make new friends.
Iara smiled softly when Arthur mentioned her name, as though she’d been expecting the interaction. He, however, had no idea what to say. He felt uncomfortable, unable to understand why she was there in the first place, but he soon realized she was just a stranger who, for some reason, had joined his family that evening.
“Oh, you must be George, the twin, right?” she asked with a gentle smile.
He looked at her with a mixture of weariness and disinterest, as if he didn’t have the energy to make an effort. Yet he still replied politely.
“That’s right. And you’re… Iara?” he asked, trying to sound minimally interested.
Iara nodded, her smile still calm. She seemed at ease, but George didn’t feel sociable. He just wanted to stay there, speaking as little as possible.
“Yes, Iara de Souza. I’m…” She paused before continuing. “I’m a magizoologist. I’ve been transferred from the Brazilian Ministry of Magic to the British one.”
He watched her for a moment, unsure of what to say. It was hard to muster interest when his mind was occupied with other things.
“Hm… interesting. I guess my life is more about inventions and explosions.” he replied, in a tone that tried to sound light but couldn’t hide his indifference.
Iara, perceptive, didn’t seem offended by his indifference. She continued with her usual calm.
“I understand. I think there’s something magical in what you do as well, isn’t there?” she said, trying to steer the conversation.
George didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I suppose so.” He took a deep breath and forced a smile. “So, what’s it like working with magical creatures? Must be challenging, right?”
He observed Iara as she spoke, her gaze fixed on him, but there was something about her that made him question her presence. She continued speaking with a calmness that felt out of place considering how he felt. He couldn’t quite figure out what he thought of her.
“Yes, it has its challenges. But it also has its rewards.” She shrugged. “Every creature, everything, has a story. And I think understanding those stories, that past, might be what gives us meaning.”
George thought about that for a moment. Her words touched a part of him he couldn’t yet access fully.
“I… know what you mean.” he replied, with a lightness that wasn’t entirely sincere but seemed to be all he could offer at the moment.
As Iara spoke with George’s family, he stayed silent, observing her from a distance. She seemed completely at ease in the Burrow, asking questions and sharing stories about her work without any effort to blend in. She listened attentively to each person, asking questions that felt genuine, and her answers, always precise, revealed a quiet confidence without any trace of arrogance.
George couldn’t help but notice how she stood out without trying. Her calm demeanor, her focused but warm gaze. She seemed to know exactly when to speak and when to stay quiet, a skill that George, in his fragile state, couldn’t help but admire. She was talking to Bill, to Ginny, even to Percy, and George felt there was something about her he still couldn’t understand.
He didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way she seemed so connected to the moment, completely present, while he was still stuck in the past. Or maybe it was her manner—so calm, so unlike anyone he knew. Iara didn’t have the urgency many others did, the anxiety that lingered in the atmosphere of the Burrow. She didn’t seem to feel the need to fill silences with empty words.
George found himself watching her more than he should. The way she moved, the way her dark, curly hair fell lightly over her shoulders, how her golden-brown skin seemed to glow softly, how she expressed herself with her almond-shaped eyes, always full of serene energy but with something deeper underneath. Her full lips, which curved into quiet smiles, seemed to mesmerize George in a way he couldn’t explain. She had a simple yet striking beauty, a blend of softness and strength that left him still, as if it were impossible to look away.
When she talked to Ginny about a recent mission, George felt a twinge of admiration. She spoke with such enthusiasm, with a sparkle in her eyes that George rarely saw in others. Her excitement was subdued but intense, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to live that way. What it would be like to have such a strong passion for something and not feel… lost.
For a moment, Iara laughed at something Bill said, and George watched her, almost hypnotized by the sound of her laughter—light and unreserved. It wasn’t a forced laugh, like so many he heard around him. It was authentic. He couldn’t shake the thought that there was something different about her, something that drew him in, but he didn’t know what exactly.
She noticed him watching. When their eyes met, George felt an increasing discomfort, but Iara only gave him a calm smile, as if she had noticed him without surprise. She didn’t seem to mind, which, somehow, made him feel even more out of place.
She continued interacting with the family, unaware of how much he was watching her, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He knew he needed to stop looking, needed to focus on something else, but he simply couldn’t. Her way of being—so self-assured and, at the same time, so enigmatic—was a distraction he didn’t know how to handle.
No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t deny the effect Iara had on him. Something inside him was awakening, something he didn’t want to admit but couldn’t avoid. Something that made him wonder what else she might be. And worst of all, he didn’t know if he was ready for it.
Dinner was coming to an end, and the atmosphere at the Burrow was lighter, with everyone beginning to prepare for bed. Iara, already settled in her chair, was attentively observing George’s family, almost as if she were absorbing every moment as a meticulous study. Her presence seemed to put everyone at ease, but George felt something inexplicable in the air, something he couldn’t explain.
As the others began to disperse, Molly approached George with a gentle smile.
"George, dear, everyone will be staying here tonight except for you. Could you help Iara with using the Floo Network? She’s not very used to this kind of magic yet, and I think it would be good for you to make sure she gets to London safely." Molly suggested, with a look of concern.
George raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure how to react. Although he knew Iara was still adjusting to British magic, something about Molly's suggestion felt a bit out of place. He glanced at Iara, who was saying goodbye to Bill, Fleur, and baby Victoire with a carefree smile.
"Sure... I can help." George replied, trying not to show the discomfort he felt at being responsible for something so simple.
Iara, noticing the conversation, looked at George with a light smile.
"I'm really not very familiar with the Floo Network." she said with a touch of humor. "In Brazil, we hardly used it, and here I’ve seen it very little. I’ll be grateful for the help."
George felt a bit more at ease hearing her relaxed tone, though he was still slightly tense.
"Oh, don’t worry, it’s very simple." he replied, trying to sound confident. "We just need to get to the Floo Network, concentrate on the destination, and… you know the rest."
She nodded, still wearing her calm smile.
"I’ll trust you." she said nonchalantly.
With that, they both put on their cloaks and headed to the Burrow’s Floo point. The cold London winter invaded the air, and George couldn’t help but notice how Iara wrapped herself in her thick coat, as if she weren’t accustomed to the weather. Soon, they were ready to leave. Without saying anything further, George took Iara’s hand to guide her. It was a short trip to London, but something about the night made it feel more significant than the simple act of accompanying someone.
When they arrived at the small exit point in London, near Iara’s house, the chilly air enveloped them once more. George rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them, while accompanying Iara to her door. Along the way, trying to break the silence, he asked,
"So, how did you get to Castelobruxo? I mean, I know it’s very different, more remote, and…"
Iara looked at him with a gentle smile, as if she were sharing a cherished memory.
"The Caiporas helped us." she said without hesitation.
George laughed, thinking she was joking.
"Cai...pora? Did I say that right?" he asked, his brows furrowed in concentration.
Iara laughed softly, clearly amused. "Close enough. It's 'kai-POH-rah,' but don’t worry—most people struggle with it at first."
George tried again, exaggerating the syllables. "Kai...POH-rah. Really? That sounds like a children’s story."
Iara looked at him with a serious yet calm expression.
"I’m serious, George. The Caiporas have their own unique way of helping us get places. They have this power… it’s very fast, and they take care of all of us at Castelobruxo."
George fell silent, surprised. He didn’t know what to think, but something about the way Iara spoke, with such sincerity, made him admire her even more.
"That’s… incredible." he said with a small smile. "I never imagined creatures like that existed."
Iara gave a genuine smile, seeming pleased with his reaction as the two continued to walk. The faint glow of the streetlights reflected on the wet pavement, intensifying the feeling of cold. With each breath, small clouds of vapor escaped their lips. The sense of mystery and novelty surrounding her only seemed to grow, and, without knowing exactly why, George didn’t want the moment to end so quickly.
"So, how did you end up at Castelobruxo?" George asked, trying to change the subject as he got used to her presence beside him. "I know you’re from there, but… it always seemed like such an isolated place. What’s it like living so far from everything?"
Iara looked at him for a moment, a soft smile on her face, before giving a small sigh.
"Castelobruxo is isolated, yes." she began, thoughtful, as if it were a place she had a deep connection to. "But it wasn’t exactly where I always imagined being. Actually, I’m a Muggle-born."
George frowned, surprised by the revelation.
"Muggle-born, huh?"
Iara smiled, with a nostalgic look, before continuing.
"That’s right. My parents... they don’t have any magic at all. I was the first in our family to receive a letter for a school of magic. And, at first, I didn’t know what to do with it. It was all so new, and I’d never heard of magical schools like this. Castelobruxo was so far away, but… things just happened."
"And how was it? How did you adapt?" he asked, curious.
Iara looked ahead, the smile returning to her lips as she remembered her early days at Castelobruxo.
"In the beginning, it was challenging, no doubt. But what I can say… is that even with all the differences, our class became one big family. My classmates came from all over South America, and despite the cultural, linguistic, or even magical differences, we were united as a family. I never felt alone. Everyone there helped each other, and over time, that became my new home. I think, in the end, that’s what makes magic so special, you know? It’s the people, more than the spells."
George observed Iara for a moment, touched by her sincerity.
"That’s amazing. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to grow up like that, not knowing anything about magic. It must be such a shock at first," he said, impressed. "You must’ve learned really quickly, huh?"
Iara shrugged, as if it were natural for her.
"Adaptation came with time. But in the end, we all helped each other. It wasn’t just about magic… it was about how we became stronger together. That taught me more than any spell or potion."
When they reached her door, Iara turned to him, ready to say goodbye. George suddenly felt a mix of nervousness and something else, a sudden discomfort in the air. Iara, with a light smile, leaned in a bit to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, George." she said softly before stepping back.
George, visibly surprised, touched the cheek where the kiss had been placed, looking at her with a slight blush on his face. Iara, seeming to realize what she had done, blushed slightly, looking a bit embarrassed.
"I'm so sorry! It’s a normal custom in Brazil. We say goodbye like that to friends… or even to people we just met. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. But don’t worry, I don’t do this with everyone… only with those I consider closer."
George nodded, now more relaxed, though still a little confused by it all. He laughed nervously.
"I… I’ll remember that."
Iara gave him one last look before entering the house, a friendly expression on her face.
"Good night, George. And thank you again for accompanying me."
"Good night, Iara." he replied, watching her enter the house. He stood still for a few seconds, still processing the gesture and the conversation, before finally turning to walk home.
As he walked alone through the streets of London, George couldn’t stop thinking about the intensity of his interaction with Iara. There was something about her that made him feel more… alive. As if the simple fact of being near her brought a sense of curiosity and fascination he didn’t know how to handle.
And somehow, he knew that kiss on the cheek, though simple, would be something he’d never forget.
Hermione's P.O.V
After dinner, the house was quiet, with everyone getting ready for bed. The fireplace still crackled softly, casting a warm glow across the Burrow. Ron and Hermione were in the kitchen, putting away the dishes used during the meal.
Molly was tidying up some utensils when Ron, wearing a suspicious smile, approached her.
"So, everyone’s staying here tonight, right?" Ron asked, his voice dripping with irony.
Hermione, standing beside him, gave him a knowing smile. "And you know Ron and I were heading to London tonight, don’t you, Molly?"
Molly turned to face them with a look that said she wasn’t about to be caught off guard. "Well, I just thought it would be a good opportunity for George and Iara to have some time alone. You saw the way he looked at her, didn’t you?"
Ron and Hermione exchanged glances and chuckled softly. "I think you didn’t hide it very well, Mum." Ron said.
"I wasn’t trying to hide it." Molly replied with a mischievous smile. "I just wanted to give them a little push. They’re both so... well, you know. Sometimes people just need a bit of encouragement, don’t they?"
Hermione smiled amusedly, shaking her head. "We noticed, of course. You couldn’t have been more obvious."
Molly, looking pleased with herself, said, "Well, since you noticed, I hope you’ll help me give them the right kind of nudge." She glanced at both of them with a purposeful look. "I saw the way George was looking at her. Sometimes all they need is a little help to see what’s right in front of them."
Ron chuckled softly. "Well, Mum, we caught on to your plan. I think they’ll figure it out soon enough."
"I certainly hope so." Molly said, casting one last glance toward the door. "I just want them to have the chance to realize it for themselves."
With a sigh, Molly made the final adjustments to the house as Ron and Hermione got ready to leave. Hermione couldn’t help but smile at Molly’s unique way of meddling, but the intention was clear: she only wanted to help George and Iara find their way to each other, even if she wouldn’t admit it outright.