Keep me safe inside your arms like towers

Tower over me

--Paramore, "We Are Broken"

I paced back and forth on the old footbridge built over the small creek that ran through the tiny village of Ottery St. Catchpole, which was now frozen solid. The snow continued to fall softly through the night, covering the small houses and their thatch roofs, along with the barren trees and evergreens. I kicked my boot against the railing of the bridge, freeing it of the packed snow that was lodged in the traction and pulled my knit beret down tighter around my ears. It was a damn cold night and all I had was a pea coat and some homemade mittens and a scarf. I strained my eyes to try and discern from the dim light of the village whether anyone was coming, but I couldn't see anything. I doubted he would come find me anyway, even if he did happen to notice that I was gone. I meant to sigh, but instead I shivered.

The reason that I was outside, alone, while the rest of the Order enjoyed the false cheeriness of the Weasley home was simple to understand, yet it felt like the hardest thing to endure in my short span of nineteen years. I just wanted them both to stay here with me. Or, if they had to go, I wanted to go too. It didn't matter where. If they were going to be in danger, I wanted to feel that threat too. Instead, I was in my large, furnished office at the Ministry writing my column in the Daily Prophet on safety precautions, pushing the envelope as far as I could to let the public know the truth. Then I went back to the dark confines of Number 13, Grimmauld Place or within the walls of the Burrow intercepting and sending owls, piecing together whispers of half-conversations heard in dark alley ways of London, writing page after page of recorded information and sending it to the Order.

And so here I was, on a bleak Christmas Eve, knowing that in just two days everyone would be gone again for who knew how long, and who knew if I would see them again. And I was so worried for both of them. The first was my father. It had been exactly three weeks to the day that he had stumbled to the door, covered in blood, leg snapped in two places. I nearly passed out when I saw him. It's alright, Katie, I've looked worse, he joked gruffly. Molly took him in and I proceeded to have a nervous break down. Poor woman had to take care of us both, then. And now, while he was still healing, he was preparing to leave again for the same place. I wanted to beg him to stay, throw myself down at his feet, but I knew I couldn't do that. I had to be strong. The war had made us all grow up faster than we had wanted to.

The second person was someone I loved but couldn't be with. I couldn't bring myself to say something that would form an attachment with someone whose mortality I questioned as often as I breathed. And yet every time he entered my mind or I walked past his boarded up joke shop, I longed for the comfort of his arms like towers and to tell him the words that were so often kept safe behind my lips. That was why I was outside freezing to death. I couldn't face the forced happiness of the rest of the Order before they dashed off to meet whatever fate awaited them in the outside world. I couldn't face the fact that I may never see my father again. I couldn't face knowing that I might never be able to kiss the one person I cared for beyond anything else on this earth. I had left tonight with half-hopes that he might follow me and comfort me again, but it had been over an hour and I was still alone. I knew that it was probably better this way, but it didn't stop me from wishing that circumstances were different. Wasn't anyone trying to find me?

I leaned against the railing of the bridge and peered over at the curiously immobile water beneath me. I wished for a pair of skates that I could use to take me far away from this place. I reached inside my pocket and fingered my wand.

"Katie, come inside. It's not safe out here anymore."

I looked up. It was him.

"I can't," I said quietly. "I can't stand to be in there with all of you, knowing you'll be one again just as soon as you came."

"Katie, it's freezing out here. Come in with me and sit by the fire."

"And have to endure everyone's strained smiles and watching Dad limp around the house, trying to prepare for a mission he's not ready for? No thanks."

"Is that all that's bothering you?" he asked, coming closer to me. He took both of my gloved hands in his and looked down at me earnestly.

"Fred, you know it's not," I said quietly.

"You can tell me what else is bothering you, you know," he said.

"No I can't," I said, biting my lip even though all I wanted at that moment was to yell the truth from the rooftops and let everyone know the secret I had been keeping for as long as this war had been in existence.

"Katie, what are you afraid of?" he asked, leaning down to press his forehead against mine.

I'm afraid of letting you know how much I care," I whispered. "You know that."

"But why?"

"In case you…in case you…"

"In case I die?"

"Yes." It was the lowest of possible whispers.

"If I do, it would be nice to die knowing that a very pretty girl and I knew the truth about each other's feelings," he said, mustering a smile. "Katie, I want to say it. And I know that we both want to hear it."

"I can't," I said softly.

"Then let me kiss you."

"It will only make matters worse."

"So what do we do?"

"We—" I struggled, trying to find words. "You and I—we're going to walk back to your parents' house. Hopefully you'll hold my hand. Then we're going to sit by the fire, like you said, and maybe drink some of your mum's hot chocolate. And then we're going to play exploding snap and talk about the days back in Hogwarts and laugh with Ginny and George and Professor Lupin, and then after everyone's gone to bed, you and I will stay up and sit by the fire until there's only coals left, just talking. I might rest my head on your shoulder and you might hold my hand if I start to get sad. We're going to forget about this war until we wake up on Boxing Day and you have to leave. Then we're going ot hug each other goodbye, just like we do with everyone else, but when we pull away we'll look into each other's eyes and we'll know what we want to say so badly without actually having to say it. And then we'll say 'Be seeing you' and you'll go away for a while, but you'll come back. Just like you always do."

My voice trembled as I finished, wondering if I was more hoping than believing that last part to be true. I looked up at him.

"That's fine by me," he said. We smiled as we started back out into the snow. His hand found mine and our fingers intertwined.