a chance encounter [george]

[Mary Stuart]

All she really remembered was arguing with Francis about the agreement she'd been tricked into signing. It stated that if she didn't produce an heir, Scotland would become the property of France. She couldn't allow her own people to be sold, so she tried to reason with her stubborn ass of a husband. He'd wanted respect from her and all he'd gotten, instead, was a swift kick in the ass. On her way out the door, she'd given him a few choice words and told him as politely as she could manage to piss off. At some point during the argument, she had even gone so far as to accuse her husband of killing their unborn child so that he could gain control of Scotland. Logically, she knew he hadn't but emotionally, she was a mess.

From there, she was sucked into some strange portal and thrown into a rather unfamiliar place. Her landing wasn't that graceful, either. As a matter of fact, she wound up landing on top of someone. Her dark hair framed her pallid features as she looked into the eyes of the man she fell on top of. He was dressed strangely, compared to what she thought was modern clothing. She looked around warily and blinked several times. After a moment of contemplation, even though the man was incredibly comfortable, she forced herself to get up and dust herself off.

She looked down at the man and offered her hand to him, smiling slightly. "My apologies." She said softly, tilting her head a moment later as she tried to recall if she'd seen the man before. "My name is Queen Mary Stuart... And who might you be?" She queried, trying to keep her voice somewhat civil. Perhaps, this man was a wizard... Surely, that would explain his strange garb and if that was the case, she'd have to have him executed but she didn't want to do that... He had such a handsome face, the sort of face she could look at for days and not get tired of. "Who is your tailor?"

[George Weasley]

this is the end, hold your breath and count to ten
FEEL THE EARTH MOVE AND THEN HEAR MY HEART BURST AGAIN  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The air was thick with smoke and colourful sparks of spells which looked much too pretty to be as deadly as they in fact were. Screams filled his ears, tortured screams, dying screams, punctuated with a second of blessed silence before the explosions would start again, followed by those agonizing screams and deafening yells. The sound of stone being smashed made him wince as he thought about Hogwarts being destroyed. Their home, their sanctuary, was being obliterated. When they were little, their mother would tell them grand tales of good truimphing over evil no matter what. But real life's so much different to fairy tales, George thought wryly as he blasted a Death Eater straight in the heart. The good guys don't always win...

Suddenly he felt a tugging at his waist, as if he was being pulled by a Portkey. He aimed a spell behind him, certain that it was only an enemy hidden by a cloaking spell, but the tugging continued. He took a step forward, only to be pulled several back. He jogged forwards, feeling like he was on an invisible leash. He was being pulled away from Hogwarts. "FRED!" The roar hurt his throat and he instantly felt hoarse as he scrabbled towards the corridor he had last seen his brother go down. It was no use. The invisible force pulled at him with intense ferocity. A gaping black hole opened up, swallowing him. "FREEEEEEEEEEED!!!"

He landed in a patch of long grass, completely crushing it and the wildflowers. A ragged sob left his lips as he lay there, not getting up. He wasn't sure where he was, but it certainly wasn't Hogwarts. He could hear birds chirping, and the sun felt warm against his weary body. Had he died? Was this was heaven was like? Full of sunshine and cheerful birds that knew not what monstrosities he'd seen? No, this wasn't heaven. It was just somewhere very far away. He rolled over onto his back, finally opening his eyes to look at his surroundings. It was a pleasant change from the wreckage he'd left, but he wanted more than anything to be back there. To help finish the battle.

Fortunately, he didn't have long to dwell on his thoughts as something both soft and bony fell on top of him, knocking the wind right out of him. He was staring into a beautiful pair of brown eyes, set in an equally beautiful pale face. He blinked in surprise, lost for words as the girl got up. "I'm George. George Weasley," he replied as he got up, taking the proffered hand and bringing it to his lips to place a soft kiss upon it. Wasn't that what Muggles did when greeting royalty? It was either that or bowing and his bones ached too much to allow for that. He hoped she wouldn't mind too much. "It's lovely to meet you, Queen Mary," he added with a smile.

He plucked at his suit jacket, now all dusty and ripped, and he cracked a smile. "Molly Weasley, seamstress extraordinaire," he joked, his heart giving a pang as he thought of her and his father stuck at Hogwarts. He wondered if they were ok, wondered what had happened to them. Not only to them but the whole family, Ron and Bill and Ginny. And Fred. Especially Fred. They were still back there amongst the carnage while he was...here. His smile wavered and he pushed all the thoughts to the very back of his mind, shoving them into a drawer that was solely for matters that were to be dealt with later. "I'll confess I've never met royalty before. Do I need to bow or something? I'd prefer to not be beheaded as I rather enjoy having a head on my shoulders. Losing an ear was quite enough," he continued, with a laugh.  

NOTES ---
OUTFIT dark grey suit, patterned purple shirt, with a matching waistcoat and tie
CREDITS  Skyfall - Adele ~ Template by Doe-Eyed Harlot of Caution.

[Mary Stuart]

She recoiled when he spoke his name. Wasn't that an English name? The French and the English had been at war the last time she'd been home but... this wasn't home and she was beginning to come to the conclusion that she'd probably never see home again. Her final words to her husband had been rather bitter and now that hse had 20/20 hindsight, she regretted them. She couldn't ever take her words back and she'd be labeled a deserter. The Scottish people would hate her. All these realizations hit her square in the gut and made her want to weep but Queen Mary Stuart did not weep.

Weeping was considered a sign of weakness and weak, she most certainly was not. "It is lovely to make your acquaintance, as well, Mister Weasley." She murmured, withdrawing her hand from his and smiling. He certainly knew his manners. That was a trait that could be admired. She looked down for a moment and chewed upon the inside of her cheek. There was so much to think about in this new world that she couldn't quite keep all of her proverbial ducks in a row.

She tilted her head somewhat curiously. "Would that be your mother, then?" She queried, her thoughts flashing briefly back to her own mother. The woman had been terrible, perhaps worse than her mother-in-law. "Shall we go for a walk? The weather's quite nice and I'm sure we could find an inn that would be more than happy to put us up, in exchange for some manual labor." She hated the mere notion of manual labor, as she'd never had to lift a finger a day of her life... for the most part, servants did her bidding and did all of the work for her.

Those times were, unfortunately, long over. "I'm not a queen of this place so you shouldn't feel fearful. I have no power here. France and Scotland, however, are different matters entirely." She gave a thin smile and looked around, confusion flickering in her dark gaze. "Where are we?" She pondered aloud, ducking slightly behind George and shaking her head as a drunk stumbled into her.

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