A/N: Hooray new chapter! Booooo school! Everytime I start to think that I can't possibly get any busier than I already am, law school just laughs and throws another ten things in the air for me to juggle. Needless to say, I've been running around like a crazy person for the last couple months. Note to ANYONE thinking about going to law school: ask yourself "do I enjoy having a life?" If the answer is yes, then DON'T DO IT! (I'm totally just kidding…sort of…not really).
Anyway this chapter picks up almost immediately from the end of last. It's basically wrapping up some things, providing a little romance, and featuring more Bill…because I think we can all agree that the world can always use more Bill Weasley.
Disclaimer – you know what I own and what I don't.
Chapter 28 – Love and the Aftermath
"Kate!" Ian's voice barely managed to reach Kate's ears over the screams of the crowd. Whirling around in panic, she looked around John Beckett to see Ian break through a tangle of reporters, each sickly trying to get a better look. Over Ian's shoulder Kate could see a Daily Prophet reporter trying to get a photograph of Cedric's body. Turning her eyes away in disgust she found herself practically pinned against the railing of the stands, the throng of reporters clamoring to the edge was overwhelming.
"Ian!" She screamed his name, reaching her hand above her head for him. A hand came to rest on her shoulder. Finn's face was unusually grave and he looked down at her and then up to John Beckett, the only photographer not focused on the crowd.
Finn put a hand between her shoulder blades, steadying her. In her chest Kate's heart pounded erratically, aching against her breast bone. Cedric died. The reality hadn't come crashing down yet; the adrenaline pumping through her system was strong enough to stave it off. Ian's face disappeared and reappeared in the midst of the crowd and he broke free. "Kate!" He yelled again.
"Get out of here, Kate!" Shouted Finn in her ear. The volume hurt her eardrums and she winced, ducking her head away. "Go with Ian," he shouted again and pushed her off. Kate looked over her shoulder just as Ian reached her and closed his fingers over her wrist. Finn and John each watched her for a second longer before they turned away to speak with one another in rapid voices.
"Kate, come on," yelled Ian and he tugged her arm hard. Kate lurched forward, falling against the bench to her side. Bracing her weight with her palms, she hissed as the wood scraped against her hands. Ian's swooped down on her, helping her to stand again.
A magically enhanced voice boomed across the pitch. "Students! To your dormitories immediately!" Professor McGonagall's voice echoed, rattling benches and echoing harshly in Kate's head, which was already starting to throb.
"Let's go," Ian muttered into her ear. Nodding, she grappled for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. Weaving in and out of the reporters, the pair held on tight, refusing to let go. Together they tumbled out of the press box and onto the landing to the stairs.
Ropes of panic wrapped around Kate's chest, constricting it so tightly that the balloon in her chest popped. "He's dead," she said, drawing in increasingly tight breaths, over and over. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, and she spun around, burying her face in Ian's shoulder. Ian embraced her tightly, her ribs creaked and groaned from the movement.
"I know," he whispered in her ear. "But you can't fall apart here."
McGonagall repeated her instruction, booming and shaking the support beams holding up the stairs. Kate felt the reverberations up through her feet and into her legs. Pulling away, she took Ian's hand again. Streams of students were pouring out of the exits, all headed towards the entrance to the Great Hall. Kate held on tight to Ian, unwilling to be separated from him. The night turned cold and she shivered as a gust of wind blew across the grounds.
Kate could see the same shock and horror that she felt reflected on the faces of the students she saw. It seemed not everyone heard the news and shrieks of grief permeated the air as word whipped through the student body faster than any rumor Kate had ever heard. Another bout of nausea rolled through her stomach, how was it that something this awful could produce such a sensational reaction? Tears poured down the faces of a knot of several Ravenclaw girls and Kate's mind jumped to poor Cho Chang, one of Cara's best friends.
"I'll walk with you to the Gryffindor tower," said Ian holding their joined hands close to his side. Speechless, Kate nodded, letting him lead her through the chaos that teemed in the atrium. As they walked she could see the signs of discord all over the castle. Ghosts streaked through walls, rushing to speak in hushed voices. The subjects of paintings were rushing to and from hundreds of different frames, whispering behind hands and sharing horrified expressions. In the corner by the staircase that led down to the kitchens, Kate saw several younger Hufflepuffs knotted together, crying into the large Hufflepuff flag they'd had at the task.
The traffic bottlenecked at the staircase and Ian pulled her away from the chaos, down the classroom corridor, towards a secret stair that led up to the third floor. "I can't believe it," she said hollowly.
"I talked to him the other day," muttered Ian, staring at the ground. "Stopped by the Hufflepuff table to ask a few questions for the feature on the maze. He was really nice, much easier to talk to than Krum or Delacour, even Potter," said Ian. Kate let her head drop on Ian's shoulder.
"Poor Harry," she whispered. Ian took her hand and rest it in the crook of his elbow. Bowing his head, Ian blew out a miserable sigh. They walked on in silence until they reached the landing on the seventh floor. Ian still had to go to the other side of the castle before he reached the Ravenclaw tower. "You good to make it the rest of the way?" He asked.
Kate could hear the rumble of voices down the hall and she nodded, sniffling. "It's just a hallway," she mumbled but found herself swept back into a fierce hug.
"I'll always be here for you, you know that right?" Asked Ian when they pulled away. Slowly, Kate nodded. A brief flash of worry preceded his next words. "You're more than my best friend, Kate. I mean you are, but you're also sort of like my sister. And no matter what happens that's never going to change."
Relieved, Kate rose to the tips of her toes and brushed away the curls dropping across his forehead. She kissed the skin above his brow and squeezed his upper arm. "I know," she said. "I'll always be on your side," she promised. Ian gave her a weak smile and then motioned for her to go on.
"I'll find you tomorrow," he promised. Kate watched him walk away for a few paces before she turned and started for the Gryffindor tower. The Fat Lady was surrounded by many of her painted friends, all of them thunderstruck at the news, which had already reached the highest points of the castle. A group of first years kept waving their arms to get her attention but she was firmly rooted in her gossip.
"HEY!" Shouted Kate to the painting. Dumbstruck, the Fat Lady looked up. A first year giggled behind her before clapping a hand over his mouth and turning brilliant red. "Whomping Willow," she snapped at her. Normally Kate expected some titschy reply, but for once the Fat Lady said nothing and instead her portrait swung open. Turning to look at the awed first years, she gestured. "You lot get in," she said and looked up just in time to see two blurs.
"KATE!" Alicia shrieked in her ear. Kate stumbled backwards, into the common room, stunned by the impact of Alicia and Angelina throwing their arms around her at the same time. When Kate managed to get a good look she could see mascara smudged beneath Angelina's eyes and Alicia was ashen. "We looked everywhere for you in the atrium," she prattled on in her panic.
"Yeah, Ian and I took the back stair to the third floor," she said and lifted her eyes to acknowledge Lee as he followed them in, leaving the portrait hole open for a few more Gryffindor sixth and seventh years to follow. "Are you all alright?"
Angelina shrugged and sniffed. "Considering the circumstances," she answered and Kate completely understood what she meant. Of the three girls, Angelina knew Cedric the best. They all walked stiffly to their usual couch by the fire. Sinking into the cushions, she didn't mind in the slightest when Lee perched himself on the sofa arm. She gratefully rest her head against his side, smiling when his hand fell on her shoulder. Flames crackled to life in the fireplace and the warmth radiated against Kate's shins, but it didn't seem to reach anywhere else.
"Has anyone seen George? Or Fred?" She asked, noting the two very conspicuous absences from their circle.
"Last I saw they were with their mum, Bill, and Ginny trying to corral Ron and Hermione," said Lee and Kate nodded. Again as with Ian, an awful silence settled over them. Angelina continued to cry silently as she stared at the fire, holding onto Alicia's hand. Alicia dropped her head back and shut her eyes, but Kate could see the tears slowly begin to leak out of the corners. Above Lee looked unusually grave, the expression did not suit him. Kate resigned herself to observing her classmates as they walked into the common room.
Nobody went to bed. Everyone, it seemed, was awaiting Professor McGonagall to come and give them instructions, tell them news, or provide any shred of information she deemed fit. Kate couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on in other parts of the castle. But she knew that the Hufflepuffs were likely inconsolable and she thought with disgust what the Slytherins were all saying in that moment. At length Ginny appeared, followed Fred and then George. Ginny immediately detached herself from her brothers and was engulfed by her own friends.
"Where are Ron and Hermione?" Asked Kate as the twins came to sit on the floor before the sofa.
"With our mum, staking out the hospital wing. She had us take Ginny back to the common room." Fred explained, his voice unnaturally stiff.
George looked paler than Kate had ever seen him. "How-how is Harry?" Asked Alicia tentatively.
"Don't know," said George, training his eyes on a tapestry that hung to the left of the fireplace. "Moody took him off straight away."
The last time Kate saw the common room this crowded was in her fourth year. She remembered Professor McGonagall coming into the common room to tell her students that the school would likely close because so many students had been attacked. But even then the morose air wasn't the way it was now. Back then the fear and the worry consumed everyone, but so did the confident air that nobody had yet died. Everyone thought they were invincible, nothing could possibly happen to them. And Kate remembered stupidly feeling that way too.
But now something had happened to one of their number and that feeling of invincibility was gone. Time passed until finally the portrait hole opened and to their surprise Professor Flitwick entered. "Where's Professor McGonagall?" Asked a seventh year.
"She is fulfilling her duty as Deputy Headmistress," he stated shortly. The age lines on Flitwick's small face were even sharper than usual, he looked drawn and exhausted. "I have come by to tell you that Mr. Diggory's death was confirmed and that the expectation of every professor in this school is that every student in this school will show the decorum and maturity required of a tragedy such as this. You are not to speak to Cedric's parents should you see them and under no circumstances is anyone allowed to speak to Harry Potter about the events of tonight. The punishment will be severe for any student who tries," he said and Kate did not doubt the conviction or the consternation in his voice.
Soft murmurs and dark looks flew through out the common room. "Professor McGonagall has asked me to tell you that she will address her house tomorrow morning after breakfast, so please return to the common room straight away." Kate arched an eyebrow. That was an unusual request. "Excuse me, I must go back to the Hufflepuff house," he said. Flitwick's face was unreadable as he turned away and stocked out of the portrait hole.
"I'm going to find Katie," muttered Lee and he left his perch on the sofa, disappearing into the thick of the crowd. Alicia wiped the tears from her eyes.
"I think I'm just going to crawl in bed and forget this ever happened. You coming?" She asked to Kate and Angelina. Angelina mutely shook her head and instead rose to her feet. Without any other word she walked towards the portrait hole and left the common room.
Fred grimaced. "She's probably gone to the seventh floor terrace, I'll go get her," he muttered and took off after her. Kate looked up to say something to Alicia, but she was already gone. A hand rest on her knee and George captured her attention. He used her to support him as he got to his feet and then held a hand out to her.
"I'm going to change," said Kate, shifting her weight and looking down at her jeans.
"Do you want me to wait for you?" George's eyes held her gaze. Kate bit her lower lip. She knew that they should both try and get some sleep. But then Kate's mind leapt to the night they'd had and the misery that was certain to follow in the next few days.
Pursing her lips together, Kate let go of his hand and backed up a few steps. "Yeah, I'll be down in just a minute."
X
When Kate returned to the common room was mostly empty save a few lingering students. George sat on a chair near the staircase, resting his elbows on his knees. He'd rolled the sleeves of his button over his forearms and his blue watch face glinted in the dim light from the fire. A serious, pensive look marred his good looks. As she drew into his light of sight, George looked up at Kate.
"Hey," he said, getting to his feet. Kate instinctively reached out for his hand. A group of second years turned around at the sound of his voice. Even from a distance, Kate could see their wide eyes and round mouths. "Come on, before they surround us," said George in her ear. Kate started slightly as he placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her away from his seat.
"George this is against the rules," said Kate haltingly as he began to lead her towards the stairs to the boy's dormitories. George arched a brow, pursing his lips to stave off his mild amusement.
"Says the girl who snuck out to Hogsmeade and goes flying with me after midnight all the time." An unthinking smile tugged at her lips. "Besides, nobody cares tonight."
Upon entering George's dormitory, Kate slipped her zip-up hoodie off her shoulders and draped it over the back of his desk chair. Most of the surface lay clear, save a few order forms and pictures. Reaching out, she picked one up and examined the faces. It was all of them together: George, Fred, Lee, Alicia, Angelina, and Kate. Taken right after Gryffindor won the quidditch cup last year. Kate and Lee stuck out like sore thumbs against the other's scarlet quidditch robes. They barely stood upright, a tangle of arms and shared elation. Alicia and Angelina were still crying tears of joy and Lee was pumping his fist into the air. Fred laughed as he wrangled his arm tighter around Angelina. With a start, Kate realized that George wasn't really looking at the camera, he was looking down at her while she smiled for the lens, oblivious to his affection. Had he really developed feelings for her that long ago?
None of that seemed to matter now as she set the picture down and turned to see George easing himself to sit on the edge of his bed. Sighing, he bowed his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "Some night," he murmured, seemingly incapable of finding any other words.
Kate sat next to George on the right side of his bed. A solid foot of space stretched between them and it felt like a mile to Kate. But she couldn't bring herself to touch George or be touched. Disbelief coursed her system. Surely this was all a terrible, miserable, awful dream and she'd wake up any second. With her arms crossed over her chest she discretely pinched the inside of her elbow, willing herself to wake up.
But it never happened. Instead she and George just sat there, silent in their grief. And Kate couldn't put her finger on why she felt so devastated. She barely knew Cedric. Minus her temporary, albeit strong, crush on him, Kate could count the number of conversations they'd had on one hand. But then Kate began to wonder if it was Cedric so much as the crushing reality. He was their age and she'd never known someone their age that died. Kate kept waiting for McGonagall to open the door and tell them that everything was fine and then give Kate detention for being in the boy's dormitory.
McGonagall never came. The silence was deafening as they both stared straight ahead. At long last Kate moved, she lifted her fingers to her cheeks, startled to discover that tears carved out tracks down her cheeks. They slid along the line of her jaw, coming to drip off her chin. Bowing her head, Kate crossed her arms tightly over her upper abdomen, trying to hold herself together. Cedric was dead. He'd appeared on the ground limp and pale, his empty eyes open and unseeing into the chaos around him.
She thought about Cedric and then she thought about George, sitting next to her. Her mind strayed back to the picture, thinking about the young faces, each bright with excitement. White hot guilt lanced through her stomach as she thought about how lucky she was. Somewhere in the castle other people's lives were falling apart but hers was wonderfully intact. All year long she'd battled her inner demons related to her feelings, her family, and her future. But those battles seemed unimportant now because she still had her entire life to conquer them. But Cedric? Poor Cedric, she lamented, he had no more time to chase down and realize his own dreams and ambitions. The mere thought froze the air in Kate's lungs. Drawing her hands to press over her chest, she took several deep breaths and realized she was trembling.
"Kate?" George's warm voice filtered through her ears.
"What if it had been you?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The blood in her veins was cold, she shivered and leaned forward slightly.
"What?" George seemed confused by her question. She still didn't look at him, Kate felt as though she could barely move her body.
Swallowing, she dropped her head even further. "What if it had been you?" She repeated and brought her hands over the back of her neck. Violent images began swirling in her mind and she found her fingers were tapping repeatedly against her spine because she shook so hard. Kate closed her eyes and behind her lids she could see Harry half laying across George, there was no light in his hazel eyes and his freckles stood out stark against his pale skin.
A warm hand slid up and down the length of her back. "It wasn't me, Kate," promised George. His reassuring voice went into her ears but in Kate's panic she could barely register it. She felt the bed sink slightly as George moved to be next to her. Their thighs pressed together and the heat from George's body leeched into hers, but it did nothing to warm Kate. "It wasn't me, it's never going to be me."
"What if it had been Angelina? Her name was in the Goblet it could have so easily been her. What if you'd managed to get your name in and it was you competing tonight. I can't imagine my life without Ang, or Fred, or Alicia, or you, especially you," she buried her face in her hands. George brought his arm around her and tilted her sideways so she fell into his waiting shoulder.
"And hopefully you'll never have to," he stated simply.
Kate contemplated his words for several minutes and nuzzled deeper into George. He smelled divine, just the way he always did. The scent wrapped around Kate, enveloping her in the safety net she'd come to rely on. "I feel like the worst person in the world because I'm relieved," she whispered, her voice hoarse over the words. "I'm so relieved that everyone I love is safe."
George buried his lips in her hair and he hugged her tightly. "That doesn't make you a bad person," he promised. "It just means that you have people in your life that you care about that much. I feel the same way, love," he swore to her. Kate's fingers crept up George's chest, her fingers slipping between the opening in the shirt between two buttons. Kate held on tight, unwilling to let go of George.
"Cedric is our age." Both of them stiffened slightly. "Was," she corrected miserably.
"I know," murmured George. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head and Kate clung to him. She couldn't even begin to put into words how she felt about George, but Kate knew that it was the kind of love that surpassed what normal teenagers felt. Though the thin material of his oxford and undershirt, Kate could feel the steady beat of his heart. It was a heart that loved her and defended her, a heart that challenged, pushed, poked, and believed in her. It was a heart that she loved beyond all recognition. Kate curled deeper into the safety of his embrace.
"I love you," she said simply. George kissed the top of her head.
"I love you too," he replied.
Kate pulled away and looked up into his face. His strong jaw relaxed and his lips parted slightly. She loved the way his hazel eyes lit up whenever she looked at him. "No, George," she said softly. "I'm in love with you."
His hand came to cup her cheek. Kate kept her eyes open but leaned into his miraculous touch, his thumb rubbing soothingly back and forth against the skin of her cheek. "I'm in love with you too, Kate," he said seriously.
Maybe it was wrong to feel the surge of joy that lifted her heart, but Kate reveled in it all the same. "I know that it's immature and silly, but I can't imagine going two months without seeing you."
George nodded, his eyes searching every centimeter of her face. "I know, but luckily you'll be so busy living the posh life that you won't have time to miss me." Ducking her head, Kate shook it, trying not to smile so breathlessly.
"Impossible," she stated, staring at her fingers. George's closed over hers. He lifted her hand, opening it up. Kate's eyes slipped shut as his lips pressed against her palm. Tilting her head up, Kate found George staring down at her. The same sense of foreboding from earlier swelled in her chest. "George, do you get the feeling that what happened tonight, that it's just the beginning?"
"Yeah," he whispered. "I do. I can't believe Cedric's dead."
Kate slid off the bed and walked away a few paces. She turned back to face George who used both of his hands to rake his fingers through his hair. The action left it a mess, falling in all directions. A tiny smile quirked her lips and she returned to him, coming to stand between his legs. George's hands immediately slid over her hips and she reached up, smoothing it with the tips of her fingers. "You're a mess," she said lovingly.
He chuckled weakly and pulled her a little closer. Kate's forehead fell against his and they both exhaled at the same time, mixing the air between them. Gently George brushed the fresh tears from beneath her eyes. Darting forward, she buried her face in his neck. Kate's tears thickened until she was sobbing against the collar of his shirt. George wrapped both of his arms around her waist bringing her body tightly against his. "You're alright, Kate. Get it out," he muttered in her ear.
Kate curled her fingers around the collar of his shirt. At length her tears dried and she sniffed, pulling away a few inches. "I got makeup on your shirt," she murmured, brushing her thumb over the mascara stains on the pale blue fabric. George guided her a few steps back so he could stand. Kate moved to sit back down on the bed and watched as he untucked his shirt and unbuttoned it. She used the heel and side of her hand to wipe away her linger tears, keeping an eye on George while he pulled his shirt off his shoulders.
"Will you be okay for a couple of minutes?" George asked, draping his shirt over his arm. Kate nodded, sniffling slightly. She watched him walk into the bathroom, shutting the door lightly behind him. Groaning slightly, Kate pressed her fingers against her temples. Crying always gave her a miserable headache, and she could already feel this one coming on. Wincing, Kate let her body fall sideways, collapsing onto one of George's pillows.
The soft feather-filled pillow cradled her aching head. Closing her eyes, Kate turned her face further against the pillow case, inhaling George's comforting scent. A sense of comfort washed over her as she drew her legs up onto the bed. Exhausted and emotionally taxed, Kate further relaxed into the soft mattress. "Kate Kelley in my bed," said George as he walked back into her line of sight. Opening one of her eyes, Kate let a faint smile draw up the corner of her mouth.
George's fitted gray undershirt came over the top of his plaid pajama bottoms, her eyes followed along the line of his tapered waist. "On your bed," she corrected. His chuckle was humorless as he stood at his desk and unfastened his watch. George set it on the desktop next to the picture and turned back to face her.
"Mind if I join? Or are you going to make me use Fred's, because let me tell you, I don't want to know what's been in there." Kate's tiny smile grew and she scooted over, giving him room. George grasped the top of his covers and pulled down. "Come on, under you go," he said.
Kate didn't give the command much thought and she maneuvered her body, settling beneath the sheet at the same time George laid down next to her. His heavier weight sank deep enough into the mattress that her body tipped towards his. Even laying down, Kate's head found her favorite spot on his shoulder and she pressed her cheek against his t-shirt. A flush swirled into her cheeks as their sides and legs pressed together, erasing any space between them. Guilt tugged at the frayed ends of her nerves.
She was alone with George, in his dormitory, laying in his bed. It was, by far, the most intimate position they'd ever been in. "We probably shouldn't be doing this," she murmured. George kissed the top of her head and caged her inside his protective hold. Instead of pulling away, as she should have, Kate instead nuzzled closer to him. Even his mere presence and immediate proximity helped quell her pounding headache and Kate didn't want to go back to her dormitory and be alone.
"Probably not," he agreed with her slowly. "But like I said earlier, I don't think anyone cares tonight."
George was right. On many levels Kate knew that not a single person in the entire castle cared what the two of them did. They were just two students among a thousand others and they were utterly insignificant in comparison to some of their peers. And standing in the face of what had happened only hours earlier, Kate knew that nobody cared in the slightest that she was in George's dormitory, laying in bed with him. Besides, as she shifted her weight and finally settled against George, Kate relaxed and soaked up the immediate comfort his embrace provided. She'd never shared a bed with a boy before, much less a boyfriend. But Kate discovered she liked her situation, especially when she placed her palm flat against George's chest to feel out his heartbeat. George covered her hand with his and Kate closed her eyes, relishing in the contact. Privately she imagined what life would be like if she could fall asleep next to George every night. The mere prospect delighted and terrified her simultaneously.
The last thing Kate heard as she fell asleep was George's voice. "Goodnight, love," he said.
X
Fred stood at the windows of the seventh floor terrace. Not a soul was in sight as he searched the nearby areas, determined to find Angelina before the sun rose or before Filch found her, whichever came first. Normally he'd expect her to be here, it was, after all, her favorite place in the castle. Anytime Fred needed to have a serious conversation with Angelina or when she needed time to think she always came to the large terrace overlooking the lake. But tonight the flagstone and marble balcony remained as empty and silent as it usually did.
Frowning, Fred raked a hand through his already mussed hair and crossed his arms over his chest. Where could she be? It wasn't like Angelina to just up and disappear. Then again, there was nothing normal about the current situation. And Angelina, being Angelina, would run as far and as fast as she could from the awful truth. Fred usually contented himself to let her do just that; when she was ready to come around she would. Angelina always came to her senses in the end. But tonight was different, tonight she couldn't wallow alone.
Fred wasn't like his brother. He didn't seem to intrinsically understand and possess all of the qualities that went into being the ideal boyfriend. Support, affection, and commitment did not come easily to Fred. When things got rough he liked to make jokes and if someone expected more of him than he was ready to give, then Fred bolted. Unlike George, Fred wasn't interested in devoting his best years to the trials and tribulations of young love. Then again, unlike George, Fred also hadn't fallen head over heels in love.
That wasn't to say he didn't like Angelina, because he did. Fred could come up with no other explanation for why he was roaming the corridors at one in the morning after the night they'd all had. Every bone and muscle in his body ached and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep until noon. But Angelina was somewhere in the school, upset and probably crying. And fear of commitment be damned, Fred hated the idea of not being there for Angelina in her moment of need.
So he turned on heel and strode towards the corridor that would take him to the secondary stairwell. Judging from his experiences with Angelina, if she wasn't on the seventh floor terrace, his next best bet was the kitchens. Fred knew that if Angelina was really upset about something, or needed a shot of real comfort, he could find her eating a massive plate of leftovers from the previous meal. Shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, Fred jogged down two flights of stairs.
Thankfully he met nobody on his descent to the main floor. In the primary classroom corridor he tried to stick to the side walls, filing behind suits of armor as he went. Fred wasn't sure that any teacher would be roaming the corridors after a night like this one, but he didn't want to take any chances. If he got caught now he'd never find Angelina.
He was just about to step out of the shadow of the final suit and make a break for the stairwell to the kitchens when voices headed off his plans. Fred flattened himself against the stone wall, pressed into the darkest shadow behind a wide suit of plate armor. "I'll get word out to Remus and the others, start calling up the original Order members." Fred strained to recognize the female voice. It sounded like, was it Professor McGonagall?
"Dumbledore's asked me to write the rest of my family, let them know what's happened. Dad'll probably want to get involved straight away." Fred's stomach tightened, that was Bill. Their voices came from down the hall, growing louder as they drew neared. Fred pushed himself further against the wall, ensuring that not a single part of his body left the darkness behind the armor casing. "Did he say who you were to contact?"
Fred could hear the swishing of McGonagall's robes and the gentle thud of Bill's dragon hide boots on the floor. "Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Sturgis Podmore, Elphias Doge, Susan Bones, the Abbotts, Theo Kelley," ticked off McGonagall. Several other names followed after Theo Kelley's name, but Fred's brain stuck as he made the connection to Kate's father. Were all of their families former Order members? More to the point, what Order were they talking about? He made a note to ask his father the next chance he got.
"Do you think they'll believe him?" Fred's eyebrows rose. Leaning his head slightly to the side he watched as his brother walked side-by-side with McGonagall. It was a little strange actually, seeing his brother speak to one of his professors as though they were equals. Fred wondered if he'd ever have that relationship with any of his professors.
McGonagall blew out a sigh that betrayed her exhaustion. "A few of them will. I don't know about Susan Bones or the Abbotts. Theo Kelley is a long-shot as well." From where they stood, Fred could see Bill rub a hand over his chin and shake his head. The light was too dim for Fred to see his face, but he could see the way Bill's shoulders seemed to round in defeat and fatigue.
"I knew Richard Abbott, he was in my year. So was Theo's oldest daughter, Elise. Maybe if their parents don't respond the younger generations will?" Suggested Bill. McGonagall was quiet for a long time.
The wheels in Fred's brain began to turn. Believe what? What was going on that was so serious? Had someone else been hurt? Were all of them in danger? Beneath his ribcage, Fred's heart began to beat a little harder in response to the worry evident in both his brother and his professor's voices. "It's a good idea," reasoned McGonagall.
Bells chimed, signaling the one o'clock hour in the castle. "I'm sorry I can't walk you out Bill, there is some business I must attend to immediately," said McGonagall. Fred remained in his place as professor and former student bid one another farewell.
"You can come out now," said Bill loudly. Startled, Fred tried to melt further into his hiding spot with no success. "You didn't account for the top of your head, I saw it in a sliver of light as we walked past."
Chuckling, Fred stepped out from his hiding spot, shoving his hands back into his pockets. "You caught me," he said with a winning grin.
"Where's your other half?" Bill enquired crossing his arms over his chest.
"Probably doing the whole comforting boyfriend thing," said Fred dismissively. Absently he wondered just exactly what George and Kate were doing in his dormitory, alone. The thought made him slightly nauseous.
"And what are you doing, then?"
Smirking, Fred rocked back and forth onto the balls of his feet. "Something to the same effect, although nearly getting caught by McGonagall almost ruined that."
Bill scowled and cast a dark glance around the deserted corridors. "You shouldn't be out in the halls, not after tonight. Go find your girlfriend and get back to bed." Fred snorted in poorly concealed laughter. Since when did Bill walk around telling him what to do? That thin veil of authority never existed between the brothers, especially when Bill typically encouraged Fed and George's antics and let Percy do all the brotherly parenting.
"Bill, what's going on?" Fred asked. "The way you and McGonagall were talking about Lupin and the Abbotts and even Kate's dad."
A sigh expelled from Bill's lips and he muttered something incoherent to himself. In the span of only a few seconds Bill seemed to age several years. "I don't know if I should be the one to tell you," he said cagily and took a few paces to relieve his nervous tension. "Maybe it should be dad or mum or even Dumbledore."
"Tell me what?" Persisted Fred. "Something else happened tonight didn't it? To Harry and," Fred swallowed hard. "Cedric."
Bill shoved his hands in his pockets. His continued silence irritated Fred. He wasn't a child anymore, and he knew something was seriously wrong. "What's the Order?"
Bill shot Fred a look of long-suffering, as though he knew what was coming. Fred certainly didn't intend to give up bugging his brother until he got the answers he wanted. Ever since Harry reappeared with the cup and Cedric's body, everyone had been left in the dark. Fred, for one, did not like being left out of the loop. "Do not, under any circumstances tell Ginny. Mum's already going to go ballistic when she finds out I told you."
A small thrill of anticipation and delight rolled in Fred's stomach. He couldn't believe his luck! Had it been Percy or even Charlie he probably would be left out to dry. "Go on then, what's the Order? What happened tonight?"
Bill looked both ways down the hall to ensure their privacy. The sense of foreboding returned to Fred. For a split second he wondered if he really wanted to know what happened, some words couldn't be unsaid. But that fleeting worry passed easily and eagerly he turned his attention completely to Bill. "I don't know all of the details of what happened tonight," he admitted, much to Fred's chagrin. "But the Order refers to the Order of the Phoenix."
Both brothers were silent for a moment. Fred tried to parse out the phrase, wondering where he'd heard it before. "Never heard of it."
"That's because you were about three years old when it disbanded." Fred tried to do the mental math.
But he didn't reach the conclusion as fast as Bill wanted. His older brother grasped his shoulders and squared off to face him directly. "Fred, the Order of the Phoenix was an organization that Dumbledore established during the first war, to fight You-Know-Who."
Fred's mouth fell open. The fear came, as it always did at the mention of You-Know-Who. It slammed into Fred with the force of a train, swallowing any traces of good feelings he'd had all night long. Greater than the fear he felt when he saw Cedric's body, more powerful than the anxiety he felt while trying to find Angelina. "But if-" he broke off, unable to string his words together. "If Dumbledore is reforming the Order of the Phoenix then," but Fred couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.
"You-Know-Who is back. Harry saw him tonight."
Ten minutes later Fred walked into the kitchen to find Angelina, crying over a plate of leftover roast, mashed potatoes, and a giant wedge of spiced rum cake. Fred watched her wipe the undersides of her eyes in an attempt to appear just fine. But nothing was fine. "Fred, are you alright?" Angelina asked thickly through her tears.
Fred lifted a hand to try and wave her off but found it was shaking uncontrollably. Opening his mouth to speak, he shut it a millisecond later, swallowing hard. He caught his reflection in one of the shining silver serving platters that hung on the wall. Every freckle on his face stood out starkly against his ashen skin and Fred knew that he looked as though he'd seen his own ghost. But it was worse. Fervently, Fred wished he would wake up and this would all just have been a nightmare.
"I don't know," he responded. "I honestly don't know." But Fred did know. He knew very well that he wasn't alright. Angelina hurried over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"It's all going to be okay," she said bravely. Yet, she had no idea, thought Fred darkly. He opened his mouth to tell her, and then decided against it.
Instead he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Fred crushed her against him, trying to communicate just how much she meant to him in that moment. In the dim light and silence of the kitchens, Fred stood there, and held onto Angelina for dear life. Screwing his eyes shut, Fred tried to banish the childish images he conjured up of You-Know-Who and instead concentrated on the wonderful girl in his arms. If there really was going to be a war, then Fred wanted to hold onto this memory as long as he could.
A/N: Voldemort is back. Ian is seriously my favorite. Fred is a better boyfriend than he thinks he is. Bill is a great older brother. Kate and George are adorable.
One chapter + a short epilogue left. I'm considering lumping them together in one chapter as opposed to uploading two separate chapters. We'll see. The final chapter of LEBC will include the fallout from the Voldy reveal, the end of the year and the morning after the Third Task.
I'd love to hear your thoughts! Reviewwwww! Much love – Brose
