'It's Saturday today,' Fred said. 'Dumbledore has given me permission to take you home until tomorrow evening.' Larna smiled as she walked through the corridors with her once-again boyfriend.
'So, are we okay? You and I, I mean?'
His steps faltering, the Gryffindor paused and looked at his love. 'Honestly? Right now, I don't know.' Her face fell. 'But' - he squeezed her shoulders - 'I know we will be.' And he once again took her hand and headed towards the stairs.
Liberating. That was the one word which sprung to mind right now for Larna, as the wind whipped through her hair magnificently. It had been Fred's idea, in order to give each person time to think, for them to travel to the Burrow by broomstick, rather than Apparating. That was why Larna was currently flying over the English countryside, clutching onto Fred as though her life depended on it - which, in a way, it did. She was pleased they were sharing a broom, rather than each having their own. It meant they could be close to one another, while still saying nothing. Though she was probably imagining it, the Ravenclaw rather thought she could feel her boyfriend's heartbeat where her hand rested on his chest. Sighing, she pressed her cheek to his back, and breathed him in, determined that he would pollute her, mind, body and soul, with his breathtaking aroma. Combined with the refreshing smell of the outdoors, she though he smelled perfect.
It wasn't long before they were flying over Muggle London, and then it was only a short distance to the Weasley home. As soon as Larna spotted it on the landscape below her, a feeling of exhilaration built and bubbled, rapidly surfacing as a deep, heartfelt explosion of laughter. Fred looked over his shoulder at her, a familiar grin on his face, and the sixteen-year-old continued to giggle, the warmth inside of her too much to hold in.
By the time they dismounted, Molly Weasley was stood in the doorway waiting for them. She greeted Fred with a hug and a 'Welcome home, son,' as was usual, before he stood to one side, allowing his mother to properly look at Larna. Molly's face was stony.
'And if it isn't your "German Girlfriend", eh?' For a few seconds, no one said a word. Then Mrs Weasley smiled and held her arms open for the Ravenclaw, who let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and grinned at the now-familiar endearment.
'Hello, Mrs Weasley,' she said, hugging the maternal woman.
'Molly, dear, call me Molly! Merlin's beard, how many times?' Her tone was one of exasperation, but her happy face revealed her true feelings.
A tug on Larna's hand caused her to release her grip on Molly, and to follow Fred further into the house. 'We'll be down in a little bit, Mum. I need to talk to George.' The redhead was already halfway up the stairs, and Larna followed, struggling to keep up.
'Georgie? Can we... Can I come in?'
Fred's twin answered his brother's knocking with a cheery affirmative. He smiled when Fred walked in: 'Hello brother; I didn't think you'd be back yet. What did Dumbledore-' He caught sight of Larna. 'Oh. I didn't realise you'd brought her.'
George stared at Larna with stony eyes, as though looks could kill. Before he could say anymore, however, Fred interrupted. 'It's okay; things happened, and it wasn't her fault.'
But George was having none of it. 'It wasn't her fault? She ruined your life, turned you into a wallowing mess!'
At this point, Larna was becoming quite emotional, and tried to explain. 'George, listen-'
'No! I don't want to hear it.' His face was set.
'Please, Georgie. Just hear us out.' At his brother's desperate pleading, George nodded, almost inconceivably.
'So let me get this straight. It was that - that slimeball Malfoy's fault, and now you want to prank him. With my help.'
Smiling, Fred replied, 'Yes, that's the general gist of things.' By this time, George had calmed considerably, and was on reasonable, if not good, terms with the Ravenclaw.
'Okay. Then I have an idea. Here's the plan...'
They were a three-man (or two men and a woman) army. That was the only way to describe them. Marching towards the grounds of Hogwarts on such a fresh morning, they had determined faces, a fierce stride and an inner strength which could challenge even that of Lucius Malfoy.
'Okay guys, last reminders.' It was Fred who spoke. 'Today is Sunday; that gives us only until this evening to complete the mission. Everbody know their positions?' Both nodded. 'Then let's go.'