Chapter Seven

Bill stared at the red curtains that enclosed his four poster bed. His body ached and begged for rest, but his mind refused to sleep. Around him his dorm mates whispered. He knew they were talking about him – about how his brother was the Boy Who Lived. It was like the moment at Fortescue's only worse and never ending.

It first began when he stepped foot on the train. Students of all years stared at him. Some tried their best to catch his eye while others looked away the moment Bill's eyes met theirs. It was his fault, really. Mrs. Tonks tried to convince him to disguise his hair colour at least. Bill said no. He didn't want to change what he looked like. Why should he hide?

Of course his opinion changed after the third request for an autograph. By then the train had already left the platform and Bill didn't feel comfortable asking an older student to apply a colour-change charm to his hair.

It was the longest train ride of his life. He had chosen an unoccupied compartment at the very back. Bill had hoped no one would bother him back there, but he was wrong. Every couple of minutes he'd see faces pass by the compartment door window. He tried his best to ignore them.

Most students left him alone, content to peer inside the compartment and make Bill feel like a fish trapped in a bowl. Some were bold enough to barge inside and demand an autograph. Others felt compelled to tell Bill their life story and even how they've read all about him.

An hour into the ride Bill had grabbed his textbook, looked up the locking spell, and used it on the compartment door. It worked for the most part. They still stared inside when they thought he wasn't paying attention. No one dared to unlock the door and enter.

"-do you think they'll ever find-"

"-don't understand, do you? His little brother-"

"-KILLED you-know-who and he was only-"

"-feel bad for him, he must miss him a lot."

Thinking of Ronnie made his chest hurt. The Ministry had gone on a nationwide search for their boy who lived with no success. A few had even gone to the continent, but no luck. The search was still on, but Bill felt it was hopeless. He overheard Mr. Tonks on a fire call. Auror Mendel was the only one on the case. The Ministry felt Ronnie was as good as dead.

He groaned and shoved a pillow over his head to try and drown out the whispered conversations. There were six boys in his year in Gryffindor, and two of them were muggleborns. The others had taken it upon themselves to explain Bill's life to their new friends. It was irritating.

Getting sorted into Gryffindor was the best and worst moment of his life. It was the best because Bill had wanted it since he'd learned about the four Hogwarts houses. The hat had been lifted from his head and the lions had stood up and cheered. A few older students began chanting "We got Weasley! We got Weasley!"

Bill had been ecstatic and a bit overwhelmed. They made room for him at the table and he'd sat. The sorting ended and the Headmaster gave his speech before they tucked in to the food. He'd been so excited and joyful until someone beside him chirped, "I can't wait to owl my parents the news!"

His excitement was zapped out of him and he spent the rest of the feast pushing food around his plate. Bill couldn't remember what he ended up eating.

He'd never be able to owl his parents the news. Sure he could owl Mr. and Mrs. Tonks, but it wasn't the same. They were great, really. But they weren't his mum and dad and they'd never be.

Then there were the questions. Everyone had so many bloody questions that irritated Bill to no end. And they were always the same ones over and over. He wanted to tell them to shove off, but every little thing he said could end up in the Daily Prophet the next day. It wasn't worth it.

One girl, Leonora Hitchens, had the gall to ask, "What did You-Know-Who's face look like when he cast the Killing Curse?"

It had gone quiet. Jack Johnson's food had fallen off his fork and Queenie Taylor had looked absolutely scandalised.

Bill had stabbed his food with his fork and gave her a tight smile. "His back was to me, so I dunno."

In that moment Bill decided he didn't like Leonora Hitchens.

He rubbed his eyes with a fist and turned onto his side. His pillow had fallen off his ear. There was silence. It seemed that his dorm mates had finally gone to sleep. If only Bill could manage to fall asleep as well.

With an annoyed sigh he sat up in bed. It was no use. He wasn't going to get any sleep any time soon. Bill got out of bed and slipped his feet into his soundless slippers. He frowned down at them. They'd been his favourite when he was younger because of how unique they were. Since his story was released to the press their popularity surged. They were sold at Sallow's Shoe Shop at Diagon Alley in a myriad of colours.

The candles in the dorm had gone out. Everyone seemed to be asleep. Bill envied them. They didn't have dark thoughts that kept them up at night.

Careful to not step on the tail of Eddie Raymond's cat, Bill left the Gryffindor boys dormitory. Torches lit the stone walls. He traveled down the staircase to the common room.

Bill glanced around the common room. It was empty except for him. The fireplace was lit and the flames crackled with life, producing the only light in the room. He trudged toward the squashy couch by the fire and sat down. His body sank into the soft cushions and his muscles relaxed.

For the first couple of months after the attack, Bill had to rely on Dreamless Sleep potion to keep the nightmares away. If he didn't use it, terrible images of his parents' mutilated corpses would have him shouting in terror and waking. It worried Mr. and Mrs. Tonks. They'd even asked him once if he wanted the memories erased.

He almost said yes.

Instead they took him to a Healer skilled in mind magic. It was all kept quiet. Bill still couldn't believe Healer Pritchett didn't talk to the Daily Prophet about his nightmares. He wondered sometimes if he'd made an unbreakable vow not to. It was a fanciful thought, but Bill didn't think Mr. or Mrs. Tonks would risk someone else's life for Bill's privacy.

Since his sessions with Healer Pritchett, Bill's nightmares were controllable. He could turn terror to fanciful dreams of unicorns and snitches if he wished. Bill no longer needed to use Dreamless Sleep potion. The only problem he had now was actually falling asleep.

Staring into the flames he felt his eyes droop. Warmth spread through his body, reminding him of his mum's warm hugs. He ran a hand over the armrest of the couch. Had she ever done this? Had she ever sat in front of the fireplace, unable to sleep? Did she ever seek comfort from the warm flames?

"Are you proud of me, mum? Dad?" Bill whispered. "I made it into Gryffindor, just like you."

The flames crackled.

"I'm going to make you proud," his eyelids drooped further. "I promise."

His eyes closed and Bill sighed, welcoming sleep. All of his progress was interrupted by a whispered shout of "Wotcher, Bill!"

He twitched and gasped. Bill's eyes darted to the flames where a familiar face was visible. He groaned outright. "Bloody hell, Tonks! Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Shouldn't you be in the dormitory?" Tonks countered with a cheeky grin.

Bill's mouth twitched. "How'd you even know I'd be in Gryffindor? Or that I'd be in the common room?"

"Puh-lease, where else would you go?" Tonks whispered. With reluctance she added, "I may have scared a snogging Slytherin couple, though."

He choked back a laugh, not wanting to make a lot of noise. "Blimey you must want to obliviate yourself after that."

Tonks laughed, her hair turning a warm orange.

"You never answered my second question." He said.

"Bill, everybody knows about your thing with the fireplace. Figuring out where you could be wasn't exactly rocket science."

"Rocket science?"

"It's a muggle thing."

"Ah," he grimaced. He suddenly remembered all of those times that he woke on the living room couch cocooned in a warm blanket he hadn't taken with him.

"So, how's Hogwarts?" Her eyes turned a bright blue. "Is it as amazing as dad tells me?"

Bill told Tonks all about the train ride, taking the boats across the black lake, and the sorting ceremony. He described the high enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. Her eyes grew large as he listed the food and pudding served at the feast. She laughed at his description of Peeves at his antics.

"Argh, I want to be there now!" Tonks whined.

"Time goes quick. You'll be here before you know it." Bill assured her.

"Do you think I'll be in Gryffindor like you?"

"I don't know. Maybe, if that's what you want." He paused. "Is that what you want?"

"I don't know." Tonks said in between yawns. "Dad thinks I'll be in Hufflepuff. I don't really care where I go." She yawned again.

"You ought to go to bed." Bill said. "If your mum and dad catch you you'll be in trouble."

"I don't want to go to bed." Tonks said.

"Well you don't, but I do." Bill glanced at the clock at the back of the room. "It's late. I've got lessons in the morning."

"Oh fine. I'll go." Tonks grumbled.

"Good night, Tonks."

"Night."

Her face disappeared from the flames. All was quiet. Bill leaned against the couch with a yawn. His eyelids fluttered shut. The talk with Tonks had comforted him more than he'd admit.

Slowly Bill descended into sleep. He dreamt that he was inside a fireplace trying to reach baby Ronnie, who was stuck to the bricks with a permanent stick charm. Bill almost reached him when Ronnie started laughing, a high cold laugh that made his hair stand on end. His eyes were glowing a brilliant red. Then there was darkness.


Note: This is the end of Part 1 which is Bill's story. Part 2 is focused on Ron's story. It may be a few months until I start posting, as I've only got one chapter done so far. Thanks for reading, I hope you're enjoying the story so far.