The Dark Children

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters (I'm pretty sure you already know that. If not, thanks for mistaking me for J.K. Rowling. Even if she did kill Fred...) Also, I got inspiration for this by reading Twin Vice Paranormal Detectives by Starkiller. The story line is completely different, but I still have the whole Fred/George/Muggle thing going on, so I thought I should mention it.

A/N: This story was written by Ru and edited by Leo. I (Ru) do not take any responsibility for any heads that explode from the pure strangeness of this story. You have been warned.

Epilogue: A stranger in the night

The girl drifted down the hallway, her shoes echoing eerily off the stone floor. Her shadow, long and menacing,was thrown against the wall beside her. It was the dead of night. There was no one moon out. But she still had a shadow.

She rounded a corner and paused, gazing about her. Yes, this was the place; she recognized where the wall had been blown open, its rubble scattered across the ground. A lot of the area had been cleaned up, the debris swept up and whisked away, but it still bore tell-tale signs of a battle. Blood splattered the stones,barely distinguishable in the near-darkness. If she squinted hard enough, the girl thought she could see the end of a long, thin wooden stick, snapped in half, peeking out from behind one of the chunks of stone. It's owner would never return to retrieve it.

She side-stepped jagged rocks until she came to the damaged wall's half-way point. Slowly, she reached down and placed her palm on the cool floor. Images rushed up to great her: pictures flashing through her head at such a speed that no normal person would've been able to even glimpse them as they flew by.
The girl drew back her hand and smiled.

She stared straight ahead, then,in a sudden, deliberate movement, she traced a circle in the air with her finger. The dust beneath her feet began to swirl and gather, lifting into the air in a thick cloud, like an incorporeal army of insects. She continued to draw, in the dust now, forming odd patterns, the likes of which hadn't been seen for hundreds of years.

When she was finished, the girl stepped back to admire her work. The symbol floated before her, giving off a soft glow. It's lines entwined and circled, radiating a faint air of malevolence. A malevolence that longed to be unleashed, and soon would be.

The girl raised her arms and began to chant.

Chapter 1: Sightings

Maerin Raide tapped her finger idly across her chin and stared out the cafe window. People milled about on the street outside, arms laden down with bags, tourists occasionally pausing to snap a photo of something they considered interesting. The sounds of London traffic traveled through the open door, honking horns and engines revving. Maerin twiddled a strand of hair on her finger, and watched with keen interest as a porky little man struggled in vain to squeeze his way through a taxi door, which seemed jammed shut, only posing a slit as an opening.

"Mae. Maerin. Hey." Her friend, Seth Evenmore,waved his hand in her face. "You got anything going on upstairs?"

Maerin blinked dazedly. "Oh,sorry. Tired, is all."

"Is all." Seth smiled at her, revealing a mouth full of braces. "Is that one of your...Irish quirks?"

Mae leaned over and punched him lightly. "That and attacking obnoxious American boys who can't seem to get over stereotypes. "

Seth clutched his elbow in mock pain. "Ow! Jeez, Mae! Do you do kung-fu now?"

Maerin frowned."I punched your shoulder."

"Exactly."

Seth's smile grew wider, his braces winking like silver coins. He was cute when he smiled like that, Maerin thought. In fact, he was cute a lot of the time. Small, with freckles and tangled blond curls. His eyes were a lazy green, like a cat's. Not handsome, but cute. He reminded her of her neighbor's puppy.

Ex-neighbor, she told herself sternly. She had left Ireland several weeks ago, and it was hard getting used to the idea that she probably wasn't going back.

"So what do you think?"

Maerin stared at him blankly. "What do I think about what?"

Seth rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I forgot you just went off on one of your little escapades, Window-Watcher." Mae opened her mouth to argue, but Seth only laughed. "Kidding.Jesus, lighten up a little."

Mae stifled a yawn, and fought to keep her heavy eyes open. She'd stayed up till six in the morning, finishing off her new book, and was sorrily regretting it. The ending had been a major disappointment. "You wanna see light? Stay up till sunrise: now that's light!"

Seth snorted."You're really one for diverting conversation, aren't you?"

"Well, seeing as I didn't know what the original topic was-"

The chime above the door jingled as another person walked in. It was a woman, tall and stern-looking, her grey eyes piercing. The light caught off her fair hair, and, just for a moment, there was a shimmering haze behind her, almost giving the appearance of wings. Then it was gone, and she walked up to the counter, throwing a smile at a handsome man sitting at the table behind Maerin and Seth's. The man looked up for a second, acknowledged her with a very friendly smile back, then, seeing the woman begin to chat with another male in the line, he returned to doing what he had been before, which was idly drawing patterns on the table with his finger. Maerin tried to focus on what Seth was saying, but the man's shock of red hair was very distracting.

"-so what would you think about coming to California with me? We have the entire summer holidays, and it's a pretty cool place- sunshine, palm trees, beaches-"

Maerin scowled, but didn't take her eyes off the the red-headed man. Estimated age: about nineteen or twenty, though she wasn't very good at judging. "I hate beaches. "

"Everything's not just about you, you know. "

"You hate beaches, too. "

"Yeah,well", Seth replied with a sigh, "Apparently everything's not just about me, either. "

Maerin's eyebrow jerked in a vain effort to get it to rise. "Meaning? "

"What's up with your eyebrow? It looks like it's tap-dancing on eggshells. "

Maerin shot him "A Look", but didn't reply. The red-head had just noticed her staring: his head snapped up to look at her, and she instinctively dropped her gaze.

Seth reluctantly continued, knotting his fingers together as he spoke. A nervous gesture of his, Mae had learned. "Meaning my parents are making me go. They think it will do me good to "see the wide world", and, of course, babysit my grandfather while they go off sunbathing and surfing, though they neglected to mention that part. "

"So, you want me to help you look after a senile old man in a scorching hot house during my carefully planned out summer holidays? "

The corners of her friend's mouth dipped as he frowned. " I never said senile. He's more like... delusional."

"Ah, and what does he happen to see?

Seth worried at his lip. "...monsters. Sasquatches, to be exact."

Mae snorted.

"It's not funny!' Seth exclaimed, waving his arms for emphasis. "He throws things! Big things! Well, unless he thinks you're a unicorn. Then he'll try to pat your head."

Mae looked at him sideways. "Is that a joke?"

"You know what, just forget it!" Seth leapt up, causing his curls to go into a bobbing frenzy. "You obviously don"t want to go, so-"

Maerin leaned across the table and grabbed his arm. She watched him jerk and redden, the splotches covering his freckle army. But he didn't pull away.

"I'm sorry", she said, trying to convey her apology through her tone. " I'll go, okay?"

"Really?" Seth's voice perked up instantly.

Maerin wrapped her fingers tighter around his wrist. "Sacrifice all of my "Me Time" for stifling heat and your crazy grandfather?" She smiled, hoping it hid her reluctance. "What else are friends for?"

She stood up, letting go of his hand and tossing her arm around his shoulder. "C'mon, lets go. The Hag will be at me if I miss lunch again."

"The Hag" was Mae's code name for her crazy aunt. An aunt who avoided her for most of the day but still insisted on having family meals. It was more of a burden then the avoiding in Maerin's mind, but still, this woman had taken her in, a 15-year-old chocoholic who spent everything she earned on books, so Maerin had to to humor her sometimes.

"I don't know why you don't just cancel," Seth said, voicing Maerin's thoughts. "No offense, but that woman couldn't care less about you."

"None taken", Maerin replied airily. "But I think this is some sort of ritual for her. If I don't play along, she could extract her revenge. She might stake all of my vampire children."

Seth shot her a quizzical look, as if she were some kind of complicated equation that had to be figured out by questioning ice cubes. "You're really weird, do you know that?"

" 'Course I do. It's why you luuuuuuuuurve me." She let him steer her towards the door, past all the annoyed customers who had been standing in line for the past half hour. They walked by the redhead, and he looked up at the sound of their footsteps. They locked eyes, Mae's hazel and the boy's blue-green. His eyebrows shot up to touch his forehead, and his mouth flopped open like that of a dying tuna. Maerin sped on past him, only pausing at the doorway to toss him a look over her shoulder. He hadn't moved. He was blinking rapidly, as if her very existence defied all logic.

Seth was already outside. "Mae?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"Coming." She hastily stepped into the street, but even then she could still feel the boy's eyes on her back.

"You need a lift home?" The sound of her friends voice shattered her revere like a stone through glass. Mae cast her eyes at his old, battered truck, sitting idly on the path with one wheel bent at an awkward angle.

"No thanks. I'll walk."

Seth raised slim eyebrow, " Sure you'll find your way back?"

Maerin was already walking away. " You have so little faith in me. I've been here nearly a month. I will not get lost."


Naturally, Maerin got lost.

Several twists, turns, sharp corners and unhelpful directions later, she was standing in a street, identical to all others, her only guide a sign so badly rusted it looked like it had grown orange fur. She looked at the buildings looming over her, their windows eyes that gleamed maliciously in the sunlight. One apartment in particular looked as if it were leering at her, due to dodgy foundations that gave it a tilt. Maerin was actually considering calling her aunt to get a lift, something she only did in life-or-death situations. No. She wasn't that desperate. Not yet, anyway.

It was then, while waiting for the legendary Yellow Brick Road to appear and save her, she noticed a lick of orange flame against the dull white-and-grey of the street. Mae had to peer hard to make sure, but yes, it was the boy from earlier, the red-head from the cafe, strolling down the path across from her. She was sure she'd seen him before today... the memory snapped into her mind. She'd seen him before, numerous times, entering the house across the street from theirs. And yet, she was reluctant to ask him the way. This was London, he was a stranger, and there was no one else around. He could have any number of weapons hidden in that unruly mop of his, even if he had a friendly face. Especially if he had a friendly face.

Still, she needed to get back. He was bound to go home sometime, and maybe, if she followed from a distance, he'd eventually lead her there. Her decision made, Maerin casually crossed the road, keeping her eyes on the boy the entire time. He looked as if he knew where he was going, but then she wasn't really one to judge. It was partly how she'd ended up there in the first place, walking straight and keeping her head high, pretending she wasn't as lost as Seth in a lingerie shop.

They continued walking for another 20 minutes, Maerin repeating in her head, over and over again, This is not stalking. It is perfectly normal. I'm just using him as a ...guide. A silent sigh escaped her lips. Even she knew how ridiculous that sounded.

The boy rounded a corner, and, almost absent-mindedly, threw a look over his broad shoulder. Maerin instinctively flattened herself against a wall, hoping the shadows masked her well enough. The boy stood still, doing nothing but blinking, then slowly swung his head back around. He began to move again, while Maerin, relief mixing with the blood in her veins, peeled herself off the wall. He had taken several steps before he spoke.

"You blend in very well, you know. I almost didn't see you there." He spun on his heels to look at her, and Maerin's entire vision seemed taken up by the smirk on his face, a marble snake, a shining canyon, a crack of honesty across a field of deception. Her heart was a battering ram, striking her ribs again and again. "You know there's a word for this", the boy continued, his tone leisurely, "Stalking, I believe. Mind you, everyone has an excuse for everything now days. What's yours?" His grin stretched into a leer. "Did my dashing good looks tap into your primal instinct? Drawn like a jarvey to a garden full of gnomes?"

She tilted her head to the side. " A what to a what-what?"

The boy quirked an eyebrow. "Not a witch, eh? But then you shouldn't be noticing me. You could be a Muggle-born, but you look a little old for it not to have been noticed yet. What are you, twelve?"

Maerin bristled. "I'm fifteen!" she squeaked indignantly, instantly ashamed of the high octave her voice took on. It sounded like someone was trying to play a century-old violin with a brick.

"And", she continued, ignoring the amused look that flashed across the redhead's face, "I have no clue what you're on about. Muggle-borns? Gnomes?" She paused for emphasis. "Witches?"

"You haven't even heard of witches?" The boy shook his head, sending his firey hair flying. He looked younger than he had when she'd seen him entering his house by several years. Maerin remembered pointing him out to her aunt, asking who the eccentric-looking boy-or man, as he'd appeared from that distance-was. Her aunt had simply crinkled her brow and told her not to meddle in other people's business. Maerin, being curious by nature, had resented her aunt from that moment on.

"What is the world coming to?" The redhead turned his eyes to the sky in one fell swoop.

"I know what they are." Maerin placed her hands on her hips. "I just don't know why you mentioned them. Or, to be exact, I don't know you."

The boy stuck out a hand. "Fred Weasley, son of Molly and Arthur Weasley, brother to Charlie, Bill, Ronald, Ginny, and George Weasley." Maerin eyed the offered hand, then stuffed hers firmly into her pockets. Fred didn't seem fazed. Instead, her showed a charming smile that would not have looked out of place on a hunting lion. "I'm sure you've heard of me."

"Actually", said Maerin, "I really haven't."

"Blimey", said Fred, clutching his chest, "You Muggles just break my heart. I pity you, I really do. Never having heard of my greatness."

"Still doesn't explain who you are. You could be a famous mugger, for all I know."

Fred snorted. "Fat chance. And anyway, even if I were, I doubt you'd have anything worth nicking."

Maerin glared at him as if her eyes could bore holes through his skin. But Fred had already gone off onto his own train of thought.

"You could still have a bit of the Sight left in those Muggley eyes of yours." He began to pace around her, peering at her out of his comically enlarged eyes. She tried to continue with her death stare, but even she had to admit that a small girl with dark curls,and large, sad eyes wasn't really what people would call intimidating. "Still", Fred mused,"it is unusual for a twelve-year-old-"

"Fifteen", Maerin spat.

Fred held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, alright, keep your knickers on!"

"I had no intention of taking them off, thanks", Mae grumbled.

The boy nodded."Considering we're in a public place, that statement is fairly legit." He stopped walking, and beamed down at her. "Still, you're awfully short, aren't you? Reckon you skipped a few growth spurts?"

Mae had had enough. She was late, this guy was sprouting gibberish, and her foot itched. Slowly, she began to scan the area, looking for anything that might lead her back to her aunt's house: a flashing sign, a Northern star, anything.

"Look", she sighed, after her scan had yielded no way of escape, "I'm going to go now. So if you're done insulting me, you can either tell me how to get to Elgin Avenue, or you can go stuff you head in a porpoise." When he didn't reply, she turned away. "Thought not. Well, anyway, thanks for nothing, you really weird guy."

She had walked forward several paces when Fred called out, "Wait!"

Mae didn't know what made her stop. Maybe it was her natural curiosity peeking, maybe it was the slight tinge of seriousness that had crept into his voice. Or maybe, and this was definitely a just maybe, she actually wanted to hear what he had to say. Maerin quickly dismissed the notion.

Either way, Mae did stop, and watched as Fred walked towards her. He had an odd way of walking; his feet seemed out of time with the pace he moved at, giving the impression that he was drifting. He reached her, and Maerin thought that maybe she had been wrong about his serious tone. If anything, the mysterious twinkle in his eyes seemed to have grown brighter.

"Okay, talk. Say what you have to. But don't try anything funny", Maerin warned, "I've done kickboxing; two years of it. I was crappy at it, and I don't remember half of the stuff we were taught, but I do know how to kick my foot between your legs."

Fred shrugged his broad shoulders. "Point taken. Guess my overall handsome-osity is too much for some people." He leered at her. Just like that building earlier, Maerin thought. This could be a conspiracy. All the leerers are in cahoots.

"So I guess leaves us with Plan B : Figure out why Miss Daft Muggle can see a marvelous spectre such as myself."

"Excuse me, marvelous what?" Maerin asked, sure she'd misheard him.

Fred tapped his chin in thought. "Okay, let's try this: stare at me. Really hard."

"And this will accomplish what exactly?"

"Come off it, tiny", Fred said,"you can't have not noticed that there's something strange about me."

"I doubt anyone could miss that", Maerin muttered under her breath.

Fred folded his arms. "I shall ignore that comment, for your sake. Now commence staring. Break down the walls in that noggin' of yours."

Deciding that she might as well humor him, Mae precceded to stare until her eyeballs hurt. After a while of nothing happening, Fred tutted. "Come on, you can do better than that. Or must I reveal my stomach muscles, just so you have something even nicer to stare at?"

Maerin blinked her stinging eyes. "I think that would be more of a reason to look away."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Wow. Such an overload of witty comebacks. Look, I'm not getting any older here."

"Don't you mean younger?"

Fred's smile widened. "I mean exactly what I say. Now, focus! Imagine breaking down a wall, like I told you before. Find that mind wall and kick it's teeth in."

Maerin tried. She imagined a wall in front of her, blocking her view of Fred. She imagined her eyes were slowly corroding it, making it crumble away. It was breaking, it was breaking, it was breaking-

Maerin gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth. Fred was still there, standing in front of her- no, not standing, floating. The colour seemed to have been washed from him, and now every inch of him was pearly-white, some parts several shades darker, like his hair and eyes. He even still had freckles. He had seemed slightly blurry before, frayed at the edges. Now he was fully distinct, reunited with all his natural sharpness, and Mae had to admit- he was handsome.

He's five years older than you, she reminded herself. Well, nearly four- she would be sixteen next week.

"Tada!" Fred threw his arms wide. "Whadda ya think? Handsome spectral devil, aren't I?" When she didn't respond, he frowned. "Tiny?"

"It's Maerin", she said absentmindedly. And, of course, she had to continue with the only thing that popped into her head, "I like your face." She caught the startled look in Fred's eyes, and blurted out, "Not in that way. I mean the glowy thing. It's cool." Maerin paused. "You do know your glowing, right?"

Okay, she thought, It's official. I am never talking again. I will literally sew my mouth shut. Somebody get me an old lady with a needle and thread.

Fred just looked baffled for a moment. Then his face broke into a grin, giving the impression that he had a mouth full of deadly knives. "'Course I know that! I also know you're barmy, but then most Muggles are. What you aren't-", he stressed the word with relish, "is blind as a bat, so congratulations! You get to behold the true form of the recently deceased Fred Weasley, greatest prankster the wizarding world's ever seen. Ah, how many must envy you right now, myself included." He reached out to pat her cheek affectionately, but his hand just passed through. It was as cold as the Arctic sea, penguins and all. And it was also the final straw for Maerin. It was like reality had just materialized and harshly slapped her in the face, then poked her in the eye for measure. Sorry, Mae, it had said as she licked her wounds, this is all happening. Can't rescue you. Enjoy! And then it climbed aboard a horse and rode into the sunset.

She whirled around, heart racing, and ran down the street. Somewhere behind her, she heard Fred calling her name, but it was muffled, placed on a trolley, and then wheeled to the back of her brain. All she knew now was that she had to get back, back to her little apartment and her rational aunt who was annoying, but could make sense out of anything. Sense was exactly what she needed.

When she looked back on it, Maerin thought that she really should have run blindly from the beginning, because by doing that she instinctively knew her way home. She arrived at the apartment and threw open the door, then dashed up the stairs so the floor her and her aunt lived on.

After fumbling the keys into the lock, she finally managed to open the door and was greeted by the sight of her cosy little kitchen. Everything was neat and tidy, just as it had been when she left. Dishes were stacked beside the sink, and the TV screen was flashing, the sound muted. A steaming cup of coffee sat on the counter.

"Aunt! I'm home!" She called, before turning to dump her bag on the sofa.

It was then she noticed the blood.

Streams of it, coating the frayed material that the settee was make of, splattered on the curtains and dripping onto the floor. The body of her aunt lay stretched the couch, and she was quite clearly dead.

"Bollocks!" said a voice behind Mae, "That'll never wash out of the cushions."

A/N : (From Ru) Okay, so, cliffhanger on the first chapter. That's right people, there will be more chapters! That is, if you don't hate them. This is set in 2013, by the way. Review and read...wait, no, read first. (Unless you experience the space-time continuum at a different rate than the rest of us mortals.) And enjoy, the most important thing is to enjoy. Yes, you will enjoy, MWHAHAHAHAHAHAH...cough...cough...yeah.

Also, check out Artymess on DeviantArt. She has awesome pics, and she'll be drawing stuff for The Dark Children soon. And yes, the title makes no sense yet...but it will (suspense).