Chapter Fifty
There were sparks ricocheting off the stone walls, jets of red, green, even golden light everywhere. It was like the the whizzbangs Fred and George had set off on their 18th birthday. Various torches had been blasted off the walls, shouts and yells resounded down the hallway.
And then an explosion. His eyes were wide and unmoving. Dust was lifting in pirouetting swirls up from the ground. His body was slumped against the caved in seventh floor corridor walls. No, his eyes were piercing into hers… She heard an ear-splitting scream echo against the debris and out over the grounds.
Carolina awoke with a start. Her body was cased in sweat and her sheets clung to her limbs as she tried to extract herself from her bed. Her head suddenly felt heavy, as the blood rushed back. As she sat up, she knew instinctively, that the scream she had heard in her dream had been her own. She briefly wondered if she had woken George, but he had probably performed a silencing charm on their room after the first nightmare. Not their room, her room, she silently corrected herself. There was no 'they' anymore.
She slowly stood up. Her legs were sore. Perhaps she'd been thrashing around in her sleep again too. A sudden and familiar wave of nausea overcame her and it took every ounce of her energy to push herself to the bathroom. She had just kneeled in front of the toilet before she began emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl; it was hardly anything. She'd had a hard time feeding herself properly this past month.
It was strange. The nightmares had persisted; hardly a night went by where she didn't see his face in her dreams, but the nightmare-induced nausea… that had only begun a week or so ago.
She wiped the back of her hand against her mouth and rather jerkily got to her feet again. She leant over the sink, turned on the faucet and cupped the cool water in her hands, before drinking it. She proceeded to brush her teeth, desperately trying to erase the taste of bile from her mouth.
She looked out the window. The sky was just light enough for the stars to have recently disappeared. If she listened hard enough, she could hear a few of the earlier birds chirping. It must be quite early. As long as she was awake, she decided, she might as well go into work, so she turned on the shower and waited, sitting on the toilet until the air was gradually overcome with steam.
The ministry was always empty at this hour; her colleagues probably hadn't even sat down for breakfast yet. The atrium was barren; even the paperboys hadn't come in and the only soul Carolina saw as she walked past the empty space where the fountain had been was a lone janitor—an old man on the magical maintenance crew—who was polishing one of the fireplaces that lined the hall. He nodded to her in camaraderie, before turning back to his work.
Carolina sat in her office—yes, her own office. Nearly a month after the Battle of Hogwarts, a month after his… No, she didn't want to think of it today. A week after the battle, Kingsley promoted her to Interim Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, soon after his own special election as Acting Minister, and she found herself sitting in the office that Amelia Bones had once held—the office for which Carolina had originally served as secretary.
Although she didn't have training as an auror, it was a job that suited her quite well. She was one of the only Department of Magical Law employees remaining who had worked under Fudge, Scrimgeour, and Thicknesse, not to mention being mentored by Amelia…
She pulled out the casework she had been reading yesterday: the pretrial notes for the prosecution of a death eater named Dolohov. It had been a busy month, with nearly a trial every day. She was barely caught up on her work and would be called in as a witness next week when Kingsley tried Pius, completely scrambling her schedule—though she knew it was necessary. She had to present the letter of warning he had sent her as evidence.
She plopped the stack of paperwork down in the center of her desk, just next to a small golden statue of a hand gripping a wand up into the air. The trophy gleamed in the early morning light.
One week ago, she had received the award from the Ministry for unwavering loyalty or something of that sort. Her memory had been foggy for the past month, overworked and stressed as she was, and she couldn't exactly remember the ceremony... but it had been for her dedication to revealing the muggleborns and half-bloods who were expected to be called for trial to attest to their blood status, despite the Ministry's furor. There had even been a small write up in the Daily Prophet with an interview but she couldn't recall what had been asked, or what she had replied.
She grabbed her quill, dipped it in her inkpot and began reviewing the casework, scribbling notes on a piece of parchment on the side.
"Ms. Flint? A Mr. Pucey is here to see you?" Her secretary poked his head into the office. Adrian was here? Carolina checked her watch.
"What? Oh-yes, alright, send him in…" It was midday already; she had obviously lost track of the time.
"Hey, Caro," Adrian said, walking in. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah, just one moment," Carolina responded, scrawling one last sentence on her parchment.
"I was thinking fish and chips today—nothing fussy after yesterday's buffet," Adrian commented, as Carolina grabbed her sweater.
"Yeah." Adrian had been taking her out for lunch since she had come back to work. It was probably for the best since, if today was any evidence, she would have worked right through lunch and forgotten to feed herself.
It had been a little bizarre, seeing him step into her office unannounced the first day—they hadn't talked in over a year, but he had demanded lunch and she had been in no mental state to refuse him and then… It was like everything had gone back to normal; like they were eating together at the Slytherin table again.
They exited her office and walked towards the lift that would take them to the atrium. Carolina was glad that Adrian hadn't been too fussy about eating out in Muggle London for their lunches. She could hardly get a mouthful in when dining in the Ministry cafeteria as she was constantly bombarded by both well-wishers and employees asking favors of her.
"Have you heard from Marcus at all?" Adrian asked once they were seated in a small pub.
Carolina shrugged. "No, my parents neither."
"Well then, I'm sure it will bring you great joy to know that the Falcons were caught smuggling Albanian brooms in—not industry approved, and have been suspended from the series." Adrian now worked for the department of Magical Sports and Games at the ministry, a job which was, in Carolina's opinion, perfect for him, with the added bonus that she now saw him regularly.
Carolina's mouth twitched upwards. "Not surprising. Black market smuggling runs in the family," she shrugged.
"How's work?" Adrian asked, as their food arrived.
"Mm, could I get a few extra pickles?" Carolina asked the waitress, who nodded quickly and returned to the kitchen. "It's… rather busy. You know, our department was severely understaffed before Kingsley took office… and they haven't added any new hires. Like, my secretary? He's a temp sent up from the maintenance office. Thicknesse bloody stripped us of all the employees."
"You were practically running it under him, eh?"
"Oh, thank you," Carolina said to the waitress as she delivered three more pickles onto the table. Carolina grabbed a chip, paired it with a pickle, bit and chewed, a smile appearing on her face.
Adrian cringed. "That's bloody gross, Caro."
"Wrong," Carolina said through a mouthful as she chewed. "Here, try it!" She stuck out the chip and pickle to Adrian.
"No thanks, I'm okay," he said, pushing her hand away. "Any more nightmares?" he added, casually.
Carolina swallowed her bite a little too swiftly and started coughing. She took a sip of water, calming herself down before answering. "Well, had one last night again."
"You ought to take a dreamless sleeping potion," Adrian commented.
"You ought to mind your own business!" Carolina snapped back, before blushing. "Sorry, Ades, that was rude of me… I'm running on very little sleep." The truth was that Carolina rather preferred the nightmares; at least they were a chance to see Fred again, even though he was always dying in them.
"It's fine," Adrian shrugged. He had gotten used to Carolina's outbursts over the past month. She was grieving, after all.
After lunch, Adrian and Carolina walked back to the ministry together, separating in the lift when she got off on the second floor.
"Tomorrow?" Adrian called, just before the lift doors shut. Carolina waved a thumbs up in response and continued back to her office.
"Any messages?" she asked the man seated at her old desk. It was strange having a secretary older than she, but Carolina couldn't complain. Her coworkers didn't even have secretaries of their own.
"Yes, ma'am. The minister came by, asked for you to stop off at his office before the end of the day. And the new Auror applications came in…"
"Great, I'll take those." Her secretary handed the papers to her as Carolina turned and walked into her office.
She sighed, plopping the papers onto her desk that was beginning to resemble the table in the library she had studied at the night before her N.E.W.T.s, so crowded with papers it was.
She didn't know how she would have time to review the Auror applications, what with her caseload… She supposed it would be another night where her work came home with her. Though, she wasn't complaining about that. She preferred to be busy, although it would be nice to have one or two nights off so that she could look for a new flat and get out of George's hair. He probably would want Lee to move in…
She grabbed her quill and picked back up where she had left off before lunch.
Nearly five hours later, Carolina, having finished Dolohov's casework among others as well as having prepared her witness statement for Thicknesse's trial the following week, checked her watch.
Merlin! It was nearly the end of the day and Kingsley had wanted her to come by his office. She quickly organized the papers on her desk and took off down the hall.
She knocked three times on his large door.
"Carolina," Kingsley's deep voice welcomed her. "Have a seat."
Carolina sat down obediently. She rather liked the Minister's office. He had let in a lot more light than Thicknesse or Scrimgeour had and changed the decor significantly. It was now a rather pleasant place to sit. "How are you holding up?" he asked her casually.
"Fine," Carolina responded. She was sick of people asking her this. She was there, wasn't she? Going to work? Having lunch? Why did they feel they needed to keep checking in on her? It only reminded her of… nope, not right now. She pushed the thoughts to the back of her head. "Was there something you wanted, Minister?
"As you know, the higher profile cases will be coming before the Wizengamot starting next week with Thicknesse, then Umbridge, the Carrows, Avery, Yaxley, the Malfoys…" he trailed off. "I just wanted to make sure you felt you were prepared, and I understand that our department is considerably sparse at the moment, but if there is anything that I can assist you with in preparation, please don't hesitate to let me know."
Carolina sighed. "Actually, the sooner we could hire a director of the Auror program… I'm not sure I'm qualified to review all these applications—and I really don't have time to this week."
"Consider it done. Carolina, if you'd like to take the rest of the day off next week after testifying against Thicknesse—"
"No, no, no need for that," she cut across him. She didn't like people thinking that she was weak in any way.
"Well, if you're sure about—"
Suddenly a knock came from the door.
"Yes?" Kingsley called out. "Ah, hello, Arthur," he said as the middle-aged man's head popped around the door.
"Kingsley, Molly's making a roast tonight—ah, Carolina! I was just about to go to your office next! I'm glad I caught you both before you left. Molly wanted to have a bunch of the Order members over tonight since it's been just over a month today. I believe Harry and Hermione will be there, Hagrid too, Bill and Fleur, Charlie might even show, McGonagall said she would try to make it—"
"I'm afraid I already have plans, Arthur. Dinner with the Muggle prime minister—"
"Really?" Arthur said interestedly. "Could you ask him—ah, never mind. Carolina?"
"I wouldn't want to impose."
"Nonsense, you haven't been by in a fortnight, and I believe Hermione wanted to talk to you."
"Really, Mr. Weasley, I'd rather—"
"Carolina," Arthur interrupted her again, "I do believe George said he would drag you to the dinner if you came back to the flat tonight, so you might as well come on your own volition."
Carolina turned towards Kingsley hopefully; she really didn't want to go. She didn't know what her role was to any of them now that Fred was gone… she wasn't his girlfriend anymore and she felt rather uncomfortable with Mr. and Mrs. treating her as such.
"Sounds fun," Kingsley said. "Send my regards to everybody."
Carolina scowled. "I'll be there."
"In fact," Kingsley said, looking at his pocket watch, "it's just past six. Carolina if you'd like to head out, by all means…"
"Wonderful! We can apparate there together!" Arthur said jovially.
"I'll just get my sweater," Carolina replied sourly.
"Could you ask the Prime Minister how their aeroplanes stay up?" Carolina could hear Mr. Weasley's voice questioning the Minister from down the hallway as she grabbed her sweater off her coat hook.
She sighed, flicking her wand at the lamp on her desk and instantly darkening the room. She was tired and just wanted a quiet evening.
"Ready?" Mr. Weasley asked, springing up behind her.
"Sure," Carolina said, taking his arm as he offered it to her.
Almost instantaneously, Arthur turned on the spot and Carolina felt the familiar sucking sensation of apparation.
With a dreadful pop, they appeared just outside the burrow. Carolina felt a lurching in her stomach and before she knew it, she was emptying her lunch into Mrs. Weasley's flower bed.
"My dear, are you quite alright?"
"Mm," Carolina started, wiping her mouth rather unceremoniously on her shirt. "Just apparating… I guess I'm not quite up to it."
"Well, come inside, come inside," he said, before adding as they approached, "Carolina, why don't you run upstairs and get cleaned up?"
"Yeah, thank you," Carolina agreed. She probably looked a mess.
She entered the Burrow after Mr. Weasley, who thankfully distracted Mrs. Weasley long enough for Carolina to slip upstairs, shutting herself in the bathroom.
She peered at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was rather bloated and oily, the bags beneath her eyes were still present, her hair was greasy and there was a bit of vomit on the corners of her mouth.
She turned on the faucet and leaned down to the sink, cupping the running water in her hands and bringing to her mouth. She gargled, then spat. Grabbing a towel, she ran it under the water, before wiping her face. There, a little bit better, she thought to herself. She didn't look completely awful now.
Carolina sighed… She didn't have the energy to socialize with the entire Weasley family right now, let alone with the surviving Order members. She really just wanted to go home, have a cup of tea and read until she fell asleep.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
"Oh! Sorry, Carolina, I deedn't know zat you were in 'ere!" Fleur said, making to close the door.
"No, it's alright; I was just washing up," Carolina replied, drying her hands on the towel.
"Oh, in zat case," Fleur rushed into the tiny bathroom and shut the door behind her.
"Oh, er, I'll just be leav..." Carolina started to say, before pausing. Fleur looked just as crazed as Carolina felt—her eyes just as watery. "Are you alright?"
"Oh, Carolina, I am so glad you are 'ere!" Fleur said, flinging her arms around the perplexed woman. "Obviously, I could not 'ave gone to Molly and my maman ees in Paris—will you stay 'ere?"
"Uh, sure," Carolina said slowly. "What's going on?"
Fleur pulled out a vial from her the small clutch in her hand. "I 'ave not 'ad my period zis month," she said, by way of explanation.
Carolina's mouth formed an 'O' shape.
"Bill and I 'ave been—well, since the Battle, we thought—"
"That's okay, I understand," Carolina said, smiling. "I can stay with you while you do it, if you'd like."
"Oh, would you? Bill is still at work and I am so nervous!" squealed Fleur, a beautiful smile gracing her lips.
"Sure thing. How does it work?" Carolina asked, motioning towards the little clear potion.
"Just one droplet of blood—zen, eef eet darkens, eet means I am pregnant."
"Okay, here, you hold the potion and I'll…" she trailed off, drawing her wand. "Here, open your other palm… sangus vertuntus—Bloody Hell!"
Carolina felt her body lurch forward as the bathroom door opened, slamming into the small of her back.
She reached forward to brace herself on Fleur, simultaneously scratching her own hand with her wand, drawing blood and pushing Fleur backwards into the tub. Fleur, in turn, tried to stop herself from falling into the bathtub and grabbed onto the wall on her right to no avail, dropping the vial, shattering it on the white tiled floor.
Carolina watched in horror as a droplet of blood from her own hand dripped off and landed with a quiet plop in the puddle of clear liquid on the floor.
"Oops! Sorry, ladies!" George said. "Didn't think anyone was in here—should've locked the door. What's going on?" He looked curiously between Fleur who was sprawled in the bathtub, her mouth open, the stricken face of Carolina and the dark red puddle on the floor.
"Mon dieu!" Fleur said, her eyes bugging out from her pretty face.
"No…" Carolina said quietly.
"Right, Percy's hogging the bathroom on the third floor and I've really got to—is that blood?"
"Oui, Carolina…" Fleur started, obviously unsure of what to say.
"No… I can't be…" Carolina said. She tried to think when her last period had been. Must have been mid-April… but she had attributed its disappearance to the stress of the Battle, of Fred's death, of work. And the vomiting that morning… and the pickles and the french fries.
"Merlin…" Carolina muttered, clutching her hand to cover her open mouth as she stared down at the dark potion. This couldn't be possible! She always made sure to drink her contraceptive potion except... well, except for that one night as Shell Cottage... Suddenly, the room felt too tight with the three of them in it, and she felt a bout of claustrophobia coming on. "Sorry, I just have to…" she said, unable to think of an excuse as she darted from the room. As she raced down the stairs, she could hear Fleur's voice, probably informing George of the significance of the potion.
"Ah! Carolina! There you are—Arthur had said you were joining us!" Molly said, embracing Carolina.
It felt like her skin was burning. Too tight! Too tight, she thought of Molly's hug. She wanted to run—to be anywhere but here.
"Arthur's been telling me that you've been busy as a bee, what with all of the trials. I've been keeping up naturally, reading about them in the Prophet, but it must be a very exciting time to be at the ministry!" Molly said cheerfully. How was she this cheerful? Carolina thought, feeling her chest tighten.
"Yeah—right busy," Carolina said joltily. "Er, Mrs. Weasley—"
"Call me Molly, dear!"
"Right, Molly, Mr. Weasley told me Hermione wanted to speak with me," Carolina said, fishing for any excuse to exit the conversation with Fred's mum. "Hermione!" she called as the bushy-haired witch came into the kitchen. "Mr. Weasley said you had a question for me?"
"Hey! Yes!" Hermione responded quickly. "I just wanted your opinion, since you're working in the department I'd like to go into-you see, Harry and Ron have decided to go straight into the Auror program and have decided not to sit for their N.E.W.T.s but I wasn't sure… I mean, after this year…"
Right, N.E.W.T.s, Carolina thought. This was something she could think about right now.
"Hermione, the fact that you're seeking my advice instead of, say, Bill's or Charlie's or George's or… well, I'm sure you know what I would say."
Hermione nodded as if to say, 'go on.'
"You learn so much your seventh year; not just particularly tricky spells and potions, but, and I'm sure you'll make Head Girl—how to organize the massive amounts of work, how to schedule, how to manage students and prefects. I don't think I'd have been half as good at my job if I hadn't taken my N.E.W.T.s… plus, I mean, you really do learn the most important magic… Don't you want to say you've passed your N.E.W.T.s?"
Hermione nodded. "Yeah… I agree with all that. I just hate the idea of being back at the school without Harry and Ron and… all the others," the young woman trailed off.
"Carolina?" Carolina heard George's voice calling her name as he descended down the stairs.
"Hermione, will you excuse me?" She said, sidestepping Hermione and running out the back door before George could find her. She didn't want to have that conversation with anyone… let alone Fred's twin brother. She didn't even want to think about the color of the potion.
Once outside, Carolina let out a deep breath she had been holding tightly in her chest.
It was so quiet… so different from inside the Burrow. The only sounds were the light breeze rustling the leaves in the trees and the chirping of a couple birds.
She took a few steps away from the back door and felt the late afternoon sun hit her face, spreading a welcome warmth as she walked out of the shadow of the looming house.
The trees seemed to be moving as if in slow motion, so gentle was their swaying. And the leaves… Carolina felt she had never seen a more vivid green-glistening and golden as the sunlight reflected off of them.
She looked up as she continued walking into the garden. The sun was low in the sky, almost set, and the sky itself was almost bright orange with pink clouds scattered through it.
Carolina felt her eyes blur up with tears. Everything was so beautiful, so calm and perfect, it was as if nothing of the past two months had happened…
She sat down on the bench on which she had sat with Fred as they had rested from de-gnoming the yard for Bill and Fleur's wedding nearly a year ago.
It was astonishing… breathtaking even, that the yard could look so similar, that the sun could still be in the sky and the gnomes still hiding beneath the large zucchini leaves and yet, everything was brutally different.
Sitting there with him… it felt like a lifetime ago.
She felt a quiet breeze pass through her hair, shuffling the leaves on the trees and finally, the sense of claustrophobia seemed to evaporate and she allowed herself to think about her… predicament.
She supposed that she would have to tell her parents. Her mother certainly wouldn't be happy with whatever choice Carolina made. She imagined her mother's shrill voice, reprimanding Carolina about the vast amounts of shame she had brought into the Flint house… that no Flint daughter would have a child out of wedlock… especially with a blood traitor… a bastard child… or, that no Flint daughter would dare abort a child… a spurned woman… a dirty, used girl… Whatever she did, her parents would surely find fault with her decision. Maybe, just maybe it was best if she didn't tell them?
Carolina felt the tears return to her eyes but squeezed her toes together, trying to stifle them.
She certainly wouldn't tell her parents until she had decided what to do.
Why was this happening to her? She thought frantically, the tightness in her chest returning, and rising up through her throat until she felt like it was hard to breathe.
This wasn't supposed to happen. None of it! She hadn't wanted any of this… only to work at the Ministry… to someday join the Wizengamot…
She squeezed her toes even tighter and the tears gradually receded.
As her vision cleared, she felt her breath catch in her chest.
There he was… walking towards her from out behind the trees, a pleasant smile lighting up his face as he made his way through the overgrown garden.
It couldn't be… but he was as clear as day! And wearing the same green sweater he had been wearing the night of the Battle.
As he made his way over to her, he leaned over into one of the flower beds and snatched a small purple flower, twirling in between his fingers absently.
"The war isn't over, Lina…" he said, taking a seat on the bench next to her and looking out at the garden. "You know that."
"Oh, Fred… I don't… I don't know if I can," she said, turning towards him as he fiddled with the flower.
"There's still so much to be done," Fred continued, apparently ignoring her. "Laws that need to be passed; you have to make sure this can never happen again."
"How am I supposed to? I'm—" she couldn't finish her sentence. Why wouldn't he look at her?
"It's just the beginning. There are still those enjoying their impunity. Was Fudge any less guilty than Umbridge, and was she less guilty than Yaxley? This didn't just happen because of one evil wizard—"
"I know!" Carolina shouted, her voice cracking. "I know. I-I told you all this, remember? But you're not listening to me! Fred, I'm pregnant!"
Finally, Fred turned to look at her. "I know you are. What of it?"
"Fred, I can't have it; I'm only 20! I can't—"
"It's not a question of can or can't, Lina," Fred said solemnly. "There are things that need to be done, there are changes you told me you wanted to affect—"
"And if I-if I do… my parents will disown me! I won't have enough money to feed it, I won't be able to go to work, won't be able to—"
"Lina, you are the most stubbornly, obnoxiously determined witch I've ever known. When have you ever allowed anyone to tell you that you couldn't do something? There is no 'can't' with you, only whether you choose to."
Carolina felt tears spring to her eyes as the sides of his mouth flicked upwards into a sly grin.
He was here… and he was right… She felt his hand grasp hers, felt his fingers intertwine with her own, felt warmth spread from her fingertips through her palm and up her arm into her chest. She smiled at him before looking down at their clasped hands but… there was nothing there. Just her hand on the bench. She gasped and looked up but Fred was gone and she felt the tears that had been threatening to roll down her cheeks finally overflow her eyes. It was as if a dam had been broken. Carolina felt her spine bend over, clutching her face, her body rocking back and forth with sobs.
He had been here and now he was gone.
When Carolina finally calmed down, finally brought herself upright again, she felt as if she was going insane. He had been so clear, so vivid. He had even been wearing the same clothes.
She wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. Perhaps it had only been her mind playing a trick on her; showing her Fred so that it could voice its own reason, so that she might listen to herself.
She sighed, that must have been it, before turning back to where he had been sitting—or rather, where she thought she had seen him sitting.
"Oh…" she said, drawing in a breath. There… on the bench next to her was the flower he had been playing with… a purple iris that he had picked from Molly's garden. Carolina hesitantly picked it up, afraid that it would disappear just like he had. But it didn't; instead lying flat in her palm, its petals wilting slightly under the hot summer sun and Carolina was suddenly reminded of the last time she she had seen Dumbledore alive… as she had found him leaving Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
"There are things in our world more magical than any spellwork you or I know," he had said and as Carolina stood up, walked from the garden back to the bustling Burrow, she felt she finally knew what Dumbledore had meant.
Maybe it had been in her mind; maybe she had only seen Fred as a vision, telling her what she wanted to tell herself but couldn't say out loud... Yet there was one thing of which she was absolutely certain: somehow he had brought her this iris.
She held the flower tightly to her chest. "Thank you," she whispered into the evening air.
THE END.
