"Lsoi. That's a weird number."

Remus leaned over and flipped the thermometer.

"Oh! 102.7. Dang, you still have a pretty high fever," Tonks said. I nodded, curling deeper into my pillow. Fred had gone to work for the night, so I was stuck with Tonks, Remus, and Moody as babysitters. Before he left, Fred had chatted with Remus about the journey I had to "the burrow". Remus had suggested that, although we knew the house retained magical qualities (being a gateway between universes and all), it may have other unknown powers.

"Miranda, has anything else happened in the house?" he asked gently, crouching next to the bed.

"Aw, Remus. Leave her alone. Don't interrogate her while she's sick," Tonks chided, flicking him on the shoulder. Remus sighed and shook his head.

"You're right. I'm sorry Mi—"

"It's fine," I mumbled, trying to be coherent. Like Tonks had said, my fever was high, so everything was blurry. Thinking and talking took a lot of effort. Not to mention I continuously felt queasy, so much that the smell of quiche won my stomach an Olympic gold medal. Still, I wanted to ask him about the hyena.

"Re-Remus?" I said. In a father-like tone, Remus shushed me, brushing my sweaty hair away from my forehead.

"Tonks is right. Get some sleep, Miranda."

I nodded and closed my eyes. I thought back to the way Fred's eyes shone after my little adventure. He missed his family, his friends, his brother so much. Nightmares didn't help any. They only made the pain stronger and the desperation for his family increase. I wish, I whispered, almost like a prayer, I wish I could take his pain.

The house whistled words in my ear, and I whispered them back.

…

"You actually are joking, Perce….I don't think I've heard you joke since you were—"

The air exploded. They had been grouped together, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and Percy, the two Death Eaters at their feet, one Stunned, the other Transfigured; and in that fragment of a moment, when danger seemed temporarily at bay, the world was rent apart*. A horrible crash echoed in my ears. The building was wrenched asunder all around me, brick and mortar whizzing past me, digging deep into my arms and legs. I heard my arm crack, but I didn't care. "PERCY!" I tried to shout, hoping my brother was alive. He had to be. I couldn't lose anyone. The thought that any of them could die was worse than any stone or brick pain. Everything hurt. If this was death, than kill me now. Please, please, kill me now—

"Miss Miranda! Miss Miranda!"

I shot awake, sweating and shivering. Immediately I rolled over and vomited. Where was everyone? Was Percy okay? What about Harry, Hermione, and Ron? Did they survive the explosion? I struggled to sit up. I had to reach them. I had to know if they were okay.

"Miss Miranda! Lie down!"

Miranda? Who the h*** was—wait…that was me….

I stared around the room. It was dark, almost pitch-black. I was coming back together, but I was a wreck. I retched again, my stomach rolling both from nausea and fear. The room shifted, swirling. I felt worse than I ever had in my life. Everything felt like it was either on fire or beaten by sticks, and there was a pulsing pain in my arm. Not knowing what else to do, I began to cry.

…

POP!

"Master Fred! Master Fred!"

The blonde woman screamed, pushing Dobby off of her lap. Any other person would have jumped back in shock, but not Fred. He peered over the bar, swirling a glass of Jack Daniel's in his unbroken hand.

"Desperate for a drink, eh m—Dobby?" Fred said. He stared at the drink in his hand, then back at Dobby. "Well, I'm pretty sure you're not of legal body weight to drink any of this—"

"Master Fred! Miss Miranda needs yo—"

"Miranda!" the blonde screeched, "I thought you were single!"

"Never technically said that," Fred said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand, "Now, what did you say Dobby?"

"Miss Miranda is very ill! She was screaming in her sleep and—"

"What are we waiting here for then?" Fred asked, hopping over the bar. "Oi! Marv!"

A short, bearded fellow with glassy eyes peaked out from the kitchen. "Whazzup, my fellow stargazer?"

"Hey, I'm being abducted by a tiny, bulgy-eyed man. Says he wants to find the secrets of the universe. Don't think I'll be back for the rest of my shift. We cool?"

The man shot Fred a happy, glazed over smile and a thumbs up. "We cool, my brother."

Fred shot a peace sign toward Marv, then quickly followed Dobby out the door. "Thank goodness for Muggles and their drugs."

Was Miranda okay? Fred didn't think her fever was this bad. What kind of nightmares could she possibly be having? What would make her so ill? He needed to get to her. She had always been there for him, even in his darkest moments. Her willingness to fight for him, even in the midst of the unknown—that fierceness, that tenderness—was what made Fred fall in love with her. He couldn't lose the only good thing he had here. Almost frantic, Fred snatched Dobby's wrist soon as they snuck into an alley. In a world where it was impossible, they Disapparated.

…..

"Miranda? Miranda?" Fred whispered gently, kneeling next to me. I stared at him, almost crying out "George!", but then I realized who I was. My mind was staggering from the confusion my nightmare launched me into.

"F-F-Fred?" I whimpered.

"I'm right here," he said, tenderly kissing me on the forehead. "I'm right here. You're okay."

"Fred—the explosion—it was huge." I clung to him tighter as he eclipsed his body around me. Pulling me onto his lap, he stroked my hair as I cried into his chest. Rocking me back and forth, he whispered, "Randi, Randi, you're okay." Fred had called me that once before, saying he liked the way it felt on his tongue. I told him he wouldn't be feeling my tongue if he called me that again. This time, I didn't care. This time, I was just glad he was there.

"Now, tell me what's going on," he whispered. I stuttered my whole dream to him, his face paling the farther I continued.

"What's going on? What's wrong with me?" I asked, on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Fred shook his head and kissed my eyes.

"Nothing. Nothing you need to worry about," he said tenderly. "Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep."

He was lying. Something was wrong. Under normal circumstances, I would have interrogated him 'til he spilled the beans, but tonight…tonight all I wanted was sleep.

…

Why is she having my dreams? Fred wondered, stroking Miranda's hair. This shouldn't be something she'd have to worry about, living his nightmares over and over. He thoughtfully twirled one of her curls around his finger. Her details were too vivid for her to be making it up. Besides, the fear in her eyes…Fred shook his head. He never wanted to see that again. Fred sighed, wishing to go back to a world where problems were solved by exploding fireworks. Girls were like that, fireworks. One stupid thing could blow up the whole sky. Mind you, they were still very pretty…

Fred glanced down at Miranda and sighed. "What the heck am I going to do with you?" he sighed. Women. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em. He chuckled. "Good night love," he whispered, kissing her on the lips. It was another hour before Fred fell asleep.

He woke up hours later to the sound of Miranda sobbing. She must have been at it for awhile, judging by how red her eyes were. Fred's heart skip a beat at the sight of it. What the h*** was going on? "Randi?" he whispered in shock. Wasn't this supposed to be the other way around? He glanced at the clock.

6:45.

Wait, did he actually sleep that long? Fred's eyes widened. Not a single nightmare had sneaked into his mind. For the first time in weeks, he had actually gotten a decent amount of sleep. His eyes shot to Miranda. Had she…no she didn't…there was no possible way…not in a world without magic….right?

Could she have taken his nightmares?

"You stupid girl," he said, in a voice mixed with gratitude and anguish. "You stupid, stupid girl. What did you think you were doing?" Miranda didn't respond to the rhetorical question. Instead, she cried harder, screaming Percy's name (which in a certain circumstance, Fred couldn't help but think, would be extremely awkward).

"Miranda, Miranda, don't cry. You're okay. You're okay. Miranda, he's okay, remember?" Fred said, trying not to cry from the insanity of it all. This was nuts, he thought, absolutely nuts. He should get a tattoo on his head, saying "Don't touch". That way, stupid, wonderful, crazy, fantastic women like this wouldn't put themselves through h*** for a stupid guy like him. He wasn't worth this pain. A tear fell down his cheek as he held her, trying to whisper comfort into her ear.

Suddenly the house whistled. Fred stopped, staring at nothing in particular. "That wouldn't work," he muttered, but then he stared down at Miranda's weeping, gagging, twitching form. Anything was worth a try. Fred bit his lip, sweeping Miranda into his arms.

"Expecto Patronum."

Nothing happened. Fred cursed. He really thought it was going to help too. Suddenly a whispy light shone through the doorway. A glass moose clomp-clomped in. Mind you, Fred thought, it wasn't a very huge moose. More like a baby, with its wobbly legs and head tilting side to side, trying to hold up its poor antlers. It stumbled over to Miranda. Something amazing is about to happen, Fred thought, something mind-blowing.

The moose licked her.

…Well, that was disappointing, Fred thought. Still, it did have a nice effect. Miranda, apparently soothed by the moose's tongue (he'd have to remember that next time they were making out) had drifted to a deep sleep. Fred smiled, tenderly pulling the covers around Miranda before he snuggled up next to her.

"Thanks mate."

The moose mooed.

*Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows 636.