Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I know, I know. It's incredibly disappointing.
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Chapter 14: Turning Points
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"You've been jittery today," George comments idly while chewing on the end of one of the ballpoint pens that I bought for him and Fred today while I was out. He's frowning over a notebook (also purchased by yours truly) that he's been scribbling in for the past half hour from the armchair in the sitting room. I'm assuming that he's working on something for the shop and haven't asked him about it.
George's comment gets Fred's attention, who has been on the opposite end of the couch from me doodling with his new pen and notebook while I try to focus on my book with no success. He looks up at me and frowns.
"I applied today," I tell them nervously, setting aside my book and my pretenses of reading it. George's face immediately lights up and he unceremoniously throws his things onto the floor as he jumps to his feet.
"You did!? Why didn't you say anything?" he exclaims.
"Applied for what?" Fred asks, brow furrowed as he looks between George and I.
"Experimental Charms," we respond in harmony. Only George says it like a five year old announces that he can hear the ice cream truck coming while I say it like it's a looming death sentence.
"Oh," Fred says.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?" George demands. I shrug.
"I didn't want to make a big fuss of it I guess." This is the truth. I felt really confident when I made the snap decision to go apply, but since I've gotten back from the Ministry the nerves have just gotten stronger the more I've thought about it. So I've tried not to think about it without any luck.
"It is a big deal though! It deserves to be made a big fuss over," George complains. I shake my head and smile a bit.
"You talk like I've already got the job. All I did was apply," I remind him. George scoffs and waves off my point.
"They won't turn you down. You're too good," he says easily.
"You don't know that," I argue. "Maybe they don't have any positions open. Maybe I'm not what they're looking for. Maybe I'm not good enough. Maybe-,"
"You've been overthinking things," Fred interrupts suddenly. I realize that I've been wringing my hands and immediately stop and tuck them under my legs. I stare at him for a moment while worrying my lip as I decide how to respond. With the truth? Or to deflect the observation?
"It's possible that I'm terrified of rejection." I opt for honesty. Fred and even George looks a teeny bit surprised.
"You think you'll be rejected?" George asks. I half shrug. It's not that I think I'll be rejected, it's just that there's the chance that I might be. That I won't be good enough.
"Do you think I'll get the job?" I ask Fred quietly. I nibble my bottom lip some more as he studies me quietly. I hope that he can't read on my face just how anxious I am about his answer. I don't know when his opinion about me started carrying so much weight, but somehow it's come to the point that his opinion will tip the scales.
"Of course you will," he finally answers, "You're brilliant."
A smile blossoms to life on my face and my shoulders sag in relief. He thinks I'm brilliant.
"You really think so?" I ask before I can stop myself. His eyebrows jump up and he smiles.
"Course," he says.
"See?" George says, smirking in victory. "Told you so. Now quit stressing over it. What happens will happen and when it does Fred and I will be ready to throw you a party."
I can't help but laugh at his confidence.
"Oh alright. You win this time," I tease as I pick up my book, determined to actually read some of it tonight.
"What are you reading?" Fred asks as George goes back to his work. I assess him over the top of the book for a moment before allowing it to shut again in my lap.
"You're going to think it's weird," I warn him. His eyebrows lift and across the room George jerks his head up to stare at me as well.
"Is it one of those naughty romance novels?" George asks, eyeing my book curiously.
"No!" I exclaim defensively, hugging the book to my chest. "Is that all boys can think about? Jeez."
"Sorry, sorry," George says, holding up his hands, but smiling. "But it's nothing to be ashamed of you know. I happen to know that Ginny has a stash in her room somewhere."
I roll my eyes.
"Well it's not," I insist.
"So what is it?" Fred asks.
"Well…" I hesitate. "It's called Body Bags."
The twins react in much the same way as before.
"Body Bags?" they chorus.
"Yeah it's a muggle book and it's the first in the series about this girl named Jenna and it's her first year in muggle college and she gets a job working in a morgue and all sorts of weird stuff happens that she gets caught up in and has to solve puzzles and mysteries," I explain enthusiastically. It really is a good book.
"Wait, wait," Fred stops me.
"Morgue?"
"College?" the twins question.
"Oh right. College is like getting a specialized education after your required schooling and a morgue is where muggles, er, take deceased people and perform autopsies, er- I mean they cut dead people open and examine their bodies to find out how they died- Okay stop looking at me like that!" I yell at them. They're looking horrified like they suddenly don't know who I am anymore.
"I told you it was going to sound weird," I huff. "You insisted."
"Muggles are mad!" George exclaims.
"No they aren't!" I defend. "That's the only way they can solve murders and make sure people died by natural causes. That's how they make sure that if some murderer needs to be brought to justice they will be. It's not like they do it for some sick sort of pleasure."
"Alright, we believe you! Just calm down." George says. There's an awkward silence for a minute until Fred clears his throat.
"So… You like reading about… that?" he asks conversationally. I sigh.
"I like mysteries and puzzles and these books have a good deal of both, so yes," I answer monotonously. He nods and looks pensive for a moment.
"Alright," he says. "That's… cool." I beam at him and stick my tongue out at George and then snuggle into the couch to continue reading. In the book they've just discovered that there was some kind of bug inside this guy's head that mutilated his brain and caused him to go into a mad killing spree before dropping dead himself.
I'm drawn out of my book a short time later by Fred chuckling to himself. I lower my book and lift an inquisitive eyebrow over the top. George looks just as curious as I do.
"You thought she was reading a romance novel," he snickers. George catches my eye and begins chuckling as well.
"You certainly know how to pick 'em Freddie," he teases. Fred grins back and doesn't correct him about who exactly did the picking. I turn back to my book with a light heart and a smile.
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|14|~*~|14|
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"Cora, can I talk to you?" Fred asks me. George has since gone off to bed and I've been hoping that Fred would be following shortly so that I can continue sleeping on the couch, like I have been the last couple nights, without either of them knowing. I look up at Fred and frown. He's standing in front of me and rubbing the back of his neck looking entirely uncomfortable.
"Sure," I say and pull my legs up so that he has a place to sit.
"Thanks," he mumbles as he takes the offered seat. He doesn't say anything or look at me for a minute and instead picks at a thread in the blank covering my feet.
"What's wrong?" I ask after it becomes clear that he may need some prompting. He glances up at me before sighing and leaning back into the couch to frown at the opposite wall.
"I just… I have a question, but I don't want to make you mad," he says, glancing sideways at me from the corner of his eye.
"Alright. Shoot," I tell him easily. Fred expels a lungful of air and then turns to look me straight in the face.
"Are you in love with George?" he asks. I feel the surprise spread in a shockwave across my face.
"No," I tell him quickly. Fred continues to study me.
"Are you sure?" he asks quietly. "Cuz I mean if you do," he goes back to picking at the blanket, "It's alright. I mean we can…"
I gently stop his hand and thread my fingers between his. He looks up at me in surprise.
"I'm sure," I tell him, looking him straight in the eyes. "If I do love George it's only in the way that a sister loves her brother. Nothing more. And he'll tell you the same thing about me."
"He already did," Fred murmurs, looking down to our entwined hands like they're a puzzle he's trying to solve. I tilt my head and purse my lips as I study him.
"Why?" I ask curiously. "You've heard us say the same thing several times. Why hasn't that convinced you?"
Fred looks back up to my face while he answers.
"Your boggart," he says simply. I flinch as George's dead body flashes against the inside of my eyelids.
"Oh," I mumble, me now being the one to avoid eye contact.
"Sorry," Fred says earnestly. "I didn't want to bring it up again."
"It's alright," I tell him softly.
"George said that it just means that you've added him to your list of siblings to protect," Fred continues hesitantly. I shrug.
"I guess that makes sense," I tell him dully. "I haven't really thought about it."
Fred squeezes my hand, drawing me from my memories.
"I'm sorry I brought it up," he says once I'm once again looking into his eyes. "I really am." And for once he looks completely serious and sincere. Not a joking smile in sight. I smile a little to let him know that I'm alright.
"It's okay," I tell him and squeeze his hand back. He smiles a little. I bite my lip as an idea comes into my head. It's a risk, but it's a way to show Fred that he's different from George. At least in my eyes.
"Do you want to go somewhere?" I ask quickly before I can chicken out. Fred's eyes widen.
"What? Now?" he asks. I grin, settling into my idea.
"Yes now," I say teasingly, easily falling back onto familiar ground. I get to my feet and pull him up with me. "C'mon, get your shoes on. Oh and you might want a jumper. It might be a bit nippy out."
Fred stares at me like I've gone off the deep end and then shakes his head with a slight grin and starts off to his room to grab his things.
"You're nutters," he says when he gets back, pulling a forest green jumper over his head. I grin as I catch sight of the large golden "G" emblazoned on the chest.
"That's what they tell me," I say chipperly as I pull on my own purple jumper and stuff my feet into my trainers. "Ready?"
Fred nods. "Although you still haven't told me where we're going at this time of night," he adds. I smile sadly.
"A place I haven't taken anyone else," I answer evasively. "You'll see." Fred raises his eyebrows and doesn't say anything else on the subject.
I lead him out the front door of the flat, down the stairs, through the shop, and out the front doors to the middle of Diagon Alley. Then I grab his hand and we disapparate.
When we reappear it's pitch black out and the wind is gusting. I'm glad I suggested the jumpers. Fred stays silent as we weave through the tombstones hand in hand. It's an eerie night to be in a graveyard, but at least I'm not alone for once. I come here more often than I like to admit. Finally we reach a plain gray stone that's slightly smaller than the rest.
Sally-Anne Marie Perks
1980-1998
"They can no longer die; for they are like the angels." - Luke 20:36
We stand hand in hand before the stone marker for a minute. Then I sink down to sit cross-legged before her and Fred follows, my hand still clutching his. I take my free hand and idly trace the "S" of Sally.
"Do you come here a lot?" Fred finally asks in a hushed tone after several minutes of silence. I shrug and then nod.
"More than I probably should," I say just barely loud enough to be heard over the howling wind and creaking of the old trees that speckle the cemetery.
"Why?" Fred asks and I know that he's not judging me. He's just genuinely wondering. I'm mute for a few minutes while I think about it. Why do I keep coming back here? It's not like I enjoy it. And the nightmares I get every time aren't exactly what I keep looking for.
"As a reminder I guess," I answer slowly. "A reminder of what happens if I fail."
"What do you mean?" Fred probes.
"Sally was a year above Seb and a year behind Rylie, did you know that?" I ask instead. I feel Fred shake his head rather than see it.
"Her death is my reminder of what could happen if I fail them or Jon and I guess George now too. This is the worst case scenario, like you already saw with my Boggart," I explain grimly, tracing the "A" of angel.
"Cora…" Fred starts cautiously.
"What would you do if something happened to George?" I ask him before he can continue, turning away from Sally's tombstone to look him in the face. I know my eyes are flat and serious. He jerks like just thinking about it causes a physical pain through his chest.
"I don't know," he says quietly, glancing away so that his eyes come to rest on Sally's tombstone. "I don't think I'd handle it as well as he did."
I nod even though he can't see it.
"I don't know what I would do either if something happened to Jon or Rylie or Seb or even George. I'd be a mess. I would blame myself, that's for sure. I would always be asking myself what I could have done… If I could have saved them somehow. It's terrifying to me that I can't be in control and that I can't keep them safe from everything in life. So I do what I can. I protect them from what is in my control and just hope that it's enough."
Silence descends upon us as I run out of words, but it's not uncomfortable. We simply sit and let my words sink in around us as we observe the cut stone before us without truly seeing it.
"So that's why you panicked when you found out that they'd gone to the final battle behind your back," Fred says after several minutes. I nod, my mouth twisted in a grimace. The feeling of betrayal is still fresh even though I've tried to move on.
"They could have all died and I would have had no idea until it was too late," I say in a tight whisper. I swallow thickly to try and ease the discomfort. Fred nods.
"And you would have blamed yourself," he continues. I scoff.
"It would have been all my fault. If I hadn't been so stubborn they would have just told me they were going no matter what and we all could have gone together and I could have looked out for them." I can feel my voice rising hysterically so I stop and shut my eyes and take a deep breath to calm myself.
"They all made it out alright," Fred reminds me. I make a strangled sound in my throat.
"Thanks to you it sounds like," I say, my voice cracking from how tight my throat is. "You said Death Eaters had Jon pinned." Fred says nothing for several long moments and then he gently moves his hand out of mine and slips his arm around my shoulders so that now I rest against his side. It's only now that I realize that I'm shaking. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing.
"Everything worked out exactly how it was supposed to," he says eventually. I nod against the wiry yarn of his jumper.
"Thank you," I croak after a minute. Thank you for saving Jon. Thank you for being here now and listening. Thank you for reassuring me. I'm not sure what exactly I'm thanking him for. All of it probably.
He squeezes me against him in reply and drops a kiss to the top of my head. I feel my cheeks heat at the unexpected gesture and my stomach flops, but I make no move to put space between us. We sit for a long time. Neither of us suggest leaving until my backside is numb with cold and my hair is a tangled heap upon my head from the wind.
We apparate outside the shop and walk back inside hand in hand. I don't know what to make of this. When we are back inside the flat we stand uncertainly for a moment before we drop each other's hands and I retreat back to the couch and my book.
"Well I'm off to bed then," Fred says, halfway between the hallway and me.
"Okay," I reply quietly.
"Are you going to bed soon?" he asks when I don't get up also.
"Yeah, I'm just going to finish another chapter," I say holding up my book. Fred just stares intently at me for a minute and just when I'm thinking that he's caught me in my lie he nods.
"Alright. Make sure you get some sleep though. You sure that book won't give you nightmares?" he adds with a grin, bringing back the teasing, light atmosphere that we've grown accustomed to. I grin.
"I'm sure. G'night Fred."
"Night Cora."
I wait until he shuts his bedroom door behind him before lying back down with a relieved sigh. That was close. I pull off my jumper and kick off my shoes. Then I flick my wand to turn out the lights and place my wand and book on the coffee table and snuggle down under my blanket. I can hear Fred shuffling around in his room, but he should stay in there for the night. And if one of the twins catches me out here in the morning I'll just say that I fell asleep reading. With that plan in place I allow myself to drift off to sleep.
The next morning I wake up disoriented and confused. The first thing I notice is a familiar and soothing scent filling my nostrils. Second is how warm and comfortable I am. The third is that this is not where I fell asleep. I bolt upright so fast that black spots blur my vision. I blink them away. Once I can see again I take in my surroundings.
It's a familiar room, but I can't immediately place it. My instincts say I'm perfectly safe, but something is off. It looks like a lot of stuff was moved out of the room recently and I can see that my stuff has been moved in. That's perplexing. It's not the yellow room and it' not my room back at my parent's house.
Suddenly Fred's voice drifts faintly through the door as he yells something to George. Immediately my tense muscles relax. If he and George are here then nothing will hurt me. But where am-
Finally it hits me. I'm in Fred's room. He's obviously moved his things out and my things in. So that must mean that he's taken over the yellow room. I guess I wasn't as good at hiding my dislike for the room as I'd thought.
I know my cheeks must be glowing a bright red as I think about how thoughtful it was of him. George didn't switch rooms with me. As far as I know George didn't even noticed that I wasn't staying in that room. Fred did. It's amazing how different I feel about Fred doing something like this for me than if it were George.
Then my mind wanders to how he must have moved me from the couch to here. My cheeks heat further when I imagine him carrying me down the hallway against his chest. I shake my head to dislodge the thoughts. I sink back down into the bed while I mentally chide myself.
Seriously Cora. Get a grip. You're acting like a swooning teenager. You don't even like him that way. Do you?
It's sad that I have to lay here and think about it isn't it? Last night certainly changed things. I did something I've never done before. I dropped my walls and let someone in. That means something right? Then there's all of the hand holding and my newly discovered blushing and the way I reacted when he kissed the top of my head and-
…Holy Helga. I fancy Fred Weasley.
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AN: Hi guys! I hope you're enjoying this still! I know I am. :)
I realize that I've been slacking a bit in the update department, but I promise that after maybe another week or two that I'll get my head back in the game. Real life has her demands and this time of year is always busy.
I love the reviews I've gotten and thank you everyone for adding me to your alerts/favs! It really does make my day. :) Also if you get the urge to leave a review I'll uh, like that. ;)