I
Katie
"It's amazing how quiet this house is
when the world's outside
celebrating their new years
and their new fears."
Unnaturally quiet, the empty house creaked and groaned the secret noises of a building when it's been deserted for the afternoon. Amidst the whispers of the wooden furniture and plasterboard walls, sprawled listlessly across her bed, was a pale and haunted-looking Katie Bell, her chestnut waves strewn across the mussed bedcovers.
As she glared up at the white-painted ceiling, her mouth slightly open so that oxygen could pass through her chapped lips, the eyes through which she stared aimlessly upwards minimally reflected the sunlight that streamed in through her open bedroom window. She was squinting slightly, as though the rays of sun were painful to her, but was completely unmoving, quite as though she'd been Stunned, though less rigid.
'Katie dear, we're going to the Weasleys' now, are you quite sure you don't want to come?'
Her grandmother's words still hung in the air, stale and cold and it was all that she could do not to place two of her cold, scratched and bruised hands over her ears to drown out the lingering echo of the words that had tripped a mine of emotions within her.
The Weasleys'? Why would she want to go there, The Burrow, of all places?
Didn't they know how much it hurt to even think of that place? Did they even care how much pain it had caused her to hear his surname thrown so carelessly into a sentence as if he wasn't even dead?
Because he was dead… Fred was dead… and he was never coming back. And hell, did it hurt to know that.
All of a sudden, she shuddered, an action that would've startled anyone who'd been watching her, so corpse-like had her lack of movement made her seem, and then a single tear escaped from her all-too stubborn right tear duct and slid down her cheek, stopping at her jaw where it hung menacingly off the bone, tickling her skin. Bringing up one hand, she brushed it savagely away and rolled over so that her face was firmly immersed in the bedcovers, unable to make anymore of those damned salty droplets.
She stayed like that for several minutes, breathing shakily into the quilt that many a time he had lain on top of, his long arms encircling her waist in a friendly embrace as she tried to drift off to sleep. She'd always had trouble with falling asleep, and now it was all the more worse because Fred wasn't there to lull her off with his gentle whispers about pranking people and Angelina's expression when he'd accidentally stepped on her guinea pig, and the like.
True, she still had Oliver, who was more than happy to lay down beside his girlfriend until the early hours of the morning as she cried into his shirt, but it wasn't the same… though Oliver was her boyfriend, Fred had been her best friend, and that made all the difference in the world.
Crack!Sighing slightly into her bedcovers, Katie clung tighter to them as a gentle knock at her bedroom door signalled the arrival of none other than Oliver himself, who walked softly into the room and sat down beside her curled up form and ran one calloused hand through her hair and down her back tenderly.
'Kates?'She wished he'd stop calling her that… it was, of course, what he'd always called her but so had Fred and it hurt to hear it whispered in a hoarse Scottish accent and not a mischievous English one.
'Kates?' he repeated himself, bending his body over hers so that he could make eye contact with her, 'still in bed, eh?'
She supposed she must've raised an eyebrow at this question because his soft smile faded slightly.
'Oh Katie, it's been two weeks…'
And didn't she know it?
Sitting upright again, he remained motionless for a minute before gently sliding his arms underneath her and pulling her into his lap, whereupon he slid backwards until his back was against the wall and propped her up against his chest.
'Do you… do you want to talk about it?' he asked hesitantly, placing a tender kiss upon her forehead.
'Not really,' she croaked; her voice husky from lack of use.
'Oh, okay,' he replied awkwardly, wrapping his strong arms back around her and gently rocking her back and forth.
They stayed this way for less than a minute until she promptly burst into tears and he stopped his rocking hastily, completely at a loss.
'What? Katie, I - ? What's the matter? Kates?'
Crying hysterically into his chest, she couldn't reply and nor could she breathe for the huge, gasping, heaving sobs that wracked her entire body had rendered her unable to do anything but cry.
And then, just as suddenly as they had come, the sobs stopped abruptly, leaving her gasping for breath but crying no longer.
'Katie?'
Shaking her head, she brushed the tears away impatiently and looked at him through swollen eyes. 'I'm all right, Ol.'
'But... you... what?' he asked weakly, completely bemused.
'Chocolate,' she replied quietly, confusing him all the more, 'I need chocolate.'
'Oh,' he said, gently setting her aside and springing to his feet, 'I'll go and get you some then?'
Smiling in spite of herself, she nodded.
'I'll be right back,' he said, leaning forwards to kiss her nose, 'don't you go anywhere.'
She kept the watery smile on her face until he'd disappeared with an echoing crack, and then the stupid grin slid away to be replaced by an expression of complete and utter misery.
Getting to her feet, she picked up her wand and waved it over herself, replacing her somewhat grubby pyjamas with track pants, a t-shirt and a good pair of joggers. Tying her long hair up into a hasty ponytail, she tucked her wand underneath the strap of her sports bra and left the room, jogging down the stairs and through the house to the front door.
Casting a guilty look back up the stairs to where she knew Oliver would return momentarily and panic when she wasn't there, she walked out the door and took off at a run, heading for the track that led down to the lake.
It felt so good to be running, pounding all her anger and frustration out into the packed earth track, that she instantly felt a little lighter inside and if she closed her eyes for a minute, it was almost as if Fred was running beside her, like he'd used to every holidays as they went for their early morning runs.
Fred.
Oh God, how it hurt to think about him… how it hurt to think about anything at all really, because most things in life had come back to him at some stage. Even Oliver was tied to memories of Fred – memories of him and George playing pranks on the irate Scotsman or her and Oliver's first date, a date that would never have happened had it not been for Fred, who had noticed the chemistry the two friends had and instantly put all his efforts into getting them together.
She could also remember vividly, the Last Battle… that, of course, tied inexplicably back to Fred, as most of her memories of that horrific night involved her screaming at his lifeless, still-grinning body as it lay limp on the stone floor of the castle, those blue eyes that had always known when she needed him, dulled now and staring glassily upwards, never to be lit up again.
She could hear George swearing and screaming, kicking the suit of armour beside him until he'd managed to break most of his toes and had had to be restrained… she could hear Angelina crying hysterically in the arms of Alicia and Leanne… could hear Oliver whispering that everything was going to be all right, that at least he had died laughing, as he'd have wanted to go… Mrs. Weasley's hysterical, brutal duel with Bellatrix Lestrange… Ginny whimpering, unable to believe her favourite brother was gone… her own screaming –
Tripping on a tree root that lay haphazardly across the path, she flew forwards and landed sprawled in the dirt, screaming horrifically for no reason other than to drown out the other noises in her head until all of a sudden, with a loud crack, a tall and lanky red-headed boy of nineteen was kneeling down beside her, gently rolling her over and dusting off her face and her screaming dimmed into nothing, shock overtaking all senses.
'Fred?'
The redheaded figure flinched and overbalanced, flopping back into the dirt with a horrified expression, his face contorted unimaginably with fury and agony, looking all the more disfigured from the lack of an ear –
Gasping, Katie sat up, one dusty hand clapped over her mouth as she watched on in horror as George fought with himself, seemingly trying not to explode from suppressed emotion.
They remained like that, Katie sitting a few metres away, unable to say anything she was so appalled with herself and George half-sitting, half-lying in the dirt, struggling inwardly, until he managed to force back down whatever it was that was fighting to get out and he got awkwardly to his feet, extending a hand roughly for her to take.
'I came to find you, Oliver's beside himself,' he said in a low whisper, still gripping her hand tightly, 'I knew you'd be out here – Fr- he used to come running with you all the time.'
'George?' she said quietly, reaching out with her unoccupied hand and stroking his face gently, tearing coursing down her cheeks, 'I'm so sorry, I –'
'You didn't notice my lack of ear and thought I was him,' he interrupted shortly, drawing his wand, 'you're not the only one who's been doing it, lets go.'
Nodding but keeping her silence, Katie clung to him as he performed a Side-Along Apparition.
They appeared with an almighty crack in a dark, messy bedroom that she immediately recognised as the room Fred and George had shared before they'd moved into their Diagon Alley residence. A pang shot through her but she suppressed it, instead gripping George's hand tighter and looking around the room, drinking in every detail and breathing in every smell of gunpowder and fire and whatever else they'd been using in their last experiment.
'I didn't think you'd want to appear amidst a crowd of people,' George said dully, walking over to the door and opening it for her, 'you'd better go and find Oliver.'
'I- thanks George,' she said quietly, bestowing a quick hug upon him and walking out, turning around at the last minute, 'can I come back… later on?'
'If you want,' he replied listlessly, flopping down onto the nearest bed and kicking off his shoes.
She flashed him a small, friendly smile before closing the door and walking down the hallway, at the end of which, she met Oliver, who launched himself at her immediately, practically crushing her.
'Where the hell did you go?'
'To find closure,' she replied quietly, breathing in his scent properly for the first time in over two weeks and basking in it.
'Did you find it?' he whispered back.
'No,' she answered softly, 'I want Fred back, Oliver… we both – George and I – we need him back… I can't – I can't do this anymore.'
