That night, I tossed and turned in bed for hours, unable to sleep as my brain worked overtime, replaying everything that had happened.

Fred had seemed a little different to me, when I saw him back inside the house after his talk with Angelina. He seemed almost lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Probably because he now had the satisfaction of completely proving me wrong. He'd brought Angelina here and had a nice little chat with her about their past. Even though he'd finally confronted her, he only did it to prove to me that he could. It wasn't necessarily that he wanted to or was ready. He wasn't ready as of a few days ago, so why now? If what he said was true, and he felt too upset by seeing her and Oliver together to actually talk to her, and he'd only talked to her today to spite me, then he still had feelings for her. His feelings of spite for me just happened to be stronger, which hurt me more than I cared to admit.

Once the Quidditch game was over, everyone had returned to hang around in the yard immediately behind the house. But I was inside, giving the kitchen the most intense clean it had probably ever seen, even though Mrs. Weasley had just cleaned it yesterday.

In fact, I was in the middle of scrubbing the floors by hand like some kind of crazy person, when Angelina walked in and nearly tripped over me.

"Sorry!" she said quickly as I stood up and backed away, just as startled as she was.

"Sorry, I didn't think anyone would come inside," I said quietly. "I was just, um..."

Seriously, what was I doing? I was stressed and upset and my gut instinct was to do what had become almost a habit to me back in Salem?

"I just wanted another glass of lemonade," Angelina said, helping herself to some and then peering at me over the top of her glass. "May I ask you what you're doing?"

"I was cleaning," I said simply.

"Okay, maybe I asked the wrong question," Angelina laughed. "Maybe I should've asked...why?"

I stuttered out some embarrassing excuse about still not being used to large groups of people, blushing a furious shade of red as Angelina continued to look at me.

"George told me about your fight with Fred," she said bluntly, cutting off my rambling.

"He did?" I asked, lfinally looking at her as my mouth dropped open.

"Only because I pried it out of him," Angelina said. "I can smell when something's up from a mile away. Not that I needed to be a mile away. I could sense the tension between you and Fred from the second I got here."

I didn't know what to say to that. What had George even told her? Had he told her I'd dragged her own name into the argument and told Fred he was too cowardly to even hear her name without wanting to explode? Did he tell her that it was possibly the reason she'd even been invited today? That was sure to make her feel just great.

"I know being in a fight with someone you care about isn't fun," Angelina said. "But whatever you told Fred, it did push him to actually speak to me like a regular person today. He was more like his old self."

"I feel like he was doing it to prove me wrong," I said tentatively, glancing up at Angelina.

"I believe that," she laughed. "That's Fred for you." She shrugged. "He may have initiated inviting me and talking to me to prove a point, but the words he said were genuine. He apologized for pushing me away when Percy died and we both got to explain our own sides of the story, which was really what we needed. Basically we were either dealing with correct feelings in the wrong way-in Fred's case-or in my case, dealing with feelings that felt wrong, but that I couldn't help. And Fred couldn't help being hurt by what happened. No matter how I handled it, I would've hurt him. I knew that. So I know where he's coming from. I just wished he could have talked about all of it. Sooner. Starting with Percy's death. That's all I wanted from him. Communication."

"And an instruction manual," I whispered with a tiny smile.

Angelina laughed. "Yes, that would've been nice too. Anyway, talking today was exactly what I'd wanted from him last year. It may be too late for our relationship, but not for our friendship. I'm happy that he's made it to this point. And it's partly because of you."

"No it's not," I scoffed. "Yelling at him isn't helpful. Getting him to do things out of spite isn't helpful either."

"Like I said," Angelina went on, "his actions may have been out of spite, but his words were genuine. And now that he got that initial nudge from you, he's better for it. So am I and so is our friendship."

"I'm not sure he'll see our fight as me helping him," I said. "I've been trying to work up the courage to apologize to him all day."

"He's fond of you," Angelina said. "Apologizing isn't going to be as hard as you think. I mean it. People say actions speak louder than words, and a lot of times, that's true. But without words, how do you expect people to get a better understanding of your headspace? We're not all mind readers. If you want to give Fred some insight into why you behaved the way you did, you have to talk to him. Otherwise, you're both going to continue to be frustrated."

He's fond of me, I thought bitterly. He loves Angelina, but he's simply fond of me. I angrily pushed the thoughts out of my head. Angelina was right. Fred and I ignoring each other wasn't going to solve anything.

So once I was done with the kitchen floors, I headed straight to the backyard. There was an area towards the middle where there were a bunch of logs arranged in a circle around a smaller circle of little rocks with a stack of firewood in the middle. Fred, George, Katie, Oliver, Angelina, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all sitting around it. Ginny had just used her wand to start a fire and it was crackling merrily in the center of the circle, casting flickering light onto everyone's faces.

I took a deep breath. I really didn't want to have some kind of public apology with Fred, but I wasn't sure he'd agree to talk to me alone. Conveniently, though, the spot next to him on his log was empty, given that he was the only single one of the group. And they were all pretty loud, talking and laughing rowdily amongst themselves. Maybe if I went to talk to Fred now, the others would be having too much fun to listen.

Before I could chicken out, I made my way over to them, refusing to look at anyone but Fred, despite the fact that I could feel glances being thrown my way. The conversations continued though, and I sat right down next to Fred, who had his forearms resting on his knees, a bottle of firewhiskey dangling between his fingers by the bottleneck.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked as he turned to me. Surprising myself slightly, I didn't even give him a chance to answer before I plowed on, keeping my voice low.

"Look, I'm really sorry for everything I said to you the other day," I said, keeping my eyes on his face, despite the fact that he was now staring stonily into the fire. "I overreacted. You pushed me to do something that I am terrified to do and I got defensive. But it's not your fault. Me being afraid is my issue. I wasn't sure if I was ready to face Salem and instead of telling you that, I got angry. I said some things to you that I shouldn't have and things that I didn't wholeheartedly mean. I was rude and childish and got angry at someone who has only been trying to help me from the very beginning. I'm sorry for that. For all of it."

Fred didn't respond. He continued to stare directly into the fire, his jaw set into a hard line.

"I've been trying to figure out what to say to you all day," I said. "Actually, since the moment immediately following the fight. I knew I messed up." I cleared my throat. "Anyway, I figured it was best if I got it all out in the open because if it didn't, it probably would eat away at both of us." When Fred still didn't move or answer, I cleared my throat again and stood up, brushing off the back of my jeans. "You don't have to say anything. I mostly just wanted to talk and for you to listen, anyway."

I started to walk away when Fred finally spoke. "It's your move."

"What?" I asked, turning around.

Fred turned to look at me, meeting my eyes for the first time all day. "It's your move," he repeated. "Angelina and I had a very nice chat down by the pond earlier. I faced my fear and lived to tell the tale." He lifted his bottle of firewhiskey towards his mouth, pausing with it almost at his lips as he raised an eyebrow almost sarcastically. "So," he said, "your move." He sent me a wry smile before taking a drink.

I looked at him a moment longer before shaking my head and turning back towards the house. I didn't think he could get any more impossible. Not even if he tried.

His words-the only ones he'd directly spoken to me all day-were actually what was making me the most angry the more I thought about them. Your move. Really? Was this all some kind of game to him?

As I continued to toss and turn that night, I couldn't stop thinking and overthinking what he'd said, as well as the stupid, snarky look on his face. He really knew just how to make me insane.

Eventually, I had let myself think about it too much and I had let myself get so annoyed, that I found myself throwing back my covers and getting out of bed. I turned on the light and started furiously throwing things into my bag.

Fine, if Fred wanted to play this game, I'd play. If he wanted to do things purposely to spite me, I could do the same back. This time I'd prove him wrong and I would do it without his help.

I finished packing my bag, changed into jeans and a sweater, and scribbled a gratitude-filled, yet honest note for Mrs. Weasley, before hoisting my bag onto my shoulder and turning for the door.

I was going back to Salem.

Twenty minutes later, I was in London, pounding on the door of a flat I'd only been to once, but had suddenly felt like I needed the person inside more than anything right now.

After a long moment of knocking, I heard movement on the other side of the door, followed by the sound of a voice. "Who is it and what do you want? I am extremely armed right now!"

Rachel's voice was sudden and loud on the other side of the door, but I could detect the slight note of panic in her voice. Part of me felt bad for scaring her-I had shown up unannounced at her flat in the middle of the night and started pounding on her door. She didn't even know it was me out here and I was probably the last person she expected to do this.

"Rach, it's me," I said. "Open up."

There was a long pause before the door opened tentatively to reveal Rachel peering at me, her wand still held up in the air. Her hair was in a messy bun piled high on her head and she was in pale pink and green pajamas. Her eyes were narrowed in confusion and the wand she was holding up threateningly almost contradicted her appearance enough to make me laugh.

"Sophie?" she asked, pulling the door open wider.

I looked her over with a tiny smile. "You're extremely armed, huh?"

Rachel let out a tiny giggle and lowered her wand. "I was scared awake by someone banging on my door in the middle of the night. What was I supposed to say?" She paused. "What are you doing here, by the way? It's nearly three in the morning! Is everything all right?"

"Can I come in?" I asked.

"Of course," she said slowly, opening the door wider to let me inside. I made my way over to the couch and gently set my bag down on the floor.

"I want to go back to Salem and I wanted you to come with me," I said bluntly.

Rachel gaped at me. "You've lost your mind."

"Probably," I said. "But I also need to go back. Fred was right. I have to face it."

"Yeah, but not at three in the morning! Besides, what's your plan? What are you going to do there? You don't even know that Eric's there. He's here, isn't he?"

"He'll find out I've gone back," I said. "He may be laying low, but part of me knows he's just been...watching. How else would he have found me at Noah's house that night? If I leave, it'll get out, no matter how quiet everyone tries to keep it."

"That sounds like a lot of assumption," Rachel said. "And okay, fine, say he does follow you back to Salem. What will you do then?"

"I don't know," I answered, my voice wavering slightly. "I didn't think that far ahead yet."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Did you talk to Fred? Did something happen with him for you to show up here, suddenly ready to run back to Salem when you're not supposed to leave the Burrow, and ask me to go with you? Did he say something to make you upset?"

I took in a shuddering breath and wrapped my arms around myself, feeling dumber by the minute. I really hadn't been thinking. Rachel was right, it didn't make sense. I had no plan for what would happen when I got back to Salem.

"Why don't you sit?" she said calmly, pointing to the couch. "Do you want some tea?"

I nodded as I sunk down onto the couch, suddenly feeling like I needed a mug of hot tea in my hands.

"Okay, wait right there," Rachel said. "Don't move."

She hurried off into the kitchen and I remained on the couch, staring at the coffee table unblinkingly, my arms still wrapped around myself. I shivered slightly, but remained otherwise still on the couch, listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall.

What would I do once I made it back to Salem? Bide my time until Eric found me? And then what? I knew he was after me. He wanted me back under his roof. But the thing was that I was a legal adult now. I had been for quite some time. Even when I'd escaped before. He couldn't technically force me to stay with him. But I wasn't sure I had the strength to get away from him a second time or even fight him off. Which was why I'd wanted to bring someone with me. I didn't want Rachel to interact with Eric directly, but I knew I needed someone with me if I wanted a shot. And at the very least, Rachel would know what happened, she'd know where I was and could get help and report what happened.

It wasn't a concrete plan by any means. Like Rachel has said, it relied a lot on assumptions, on chance and a lot on what ifs. But it was an attempt. It was something. Because I couldn't sit back and let everyone else handle this anymore. I needed to do it myself.

Rachel finally came back with two mugs of tea. She placed one on the coffee table in front of me, then sat in the chair opposite me with her own mug.

"Thanks," I whispered, picking the tea up and cradling it in my hands. Even just holding it made me feel a lot warmer.

"So," Rachel began, "what happened with Fred?"

I rolled my eyes and told her everything from what I'd overheard him and Angelina talking about at the pond to his stupid comment about it being my move. How the comment had irked me enough to put a plan in action that wasn't even thought out well enough.

"See, this is what I mean about him," Rachel said. "He can be such a-a-" She broke off as she searched for the right word.

"An incorrigible pain in the ass?" I suggested.

"Yeah," Rachel said with a raised eyebrow. "Sure." She paused for a moment before continuing thoughtfully. "You know, I think you're misinterpreting something here. If Fred had been so bothered by seeing Angelina with Oliver all this time that he couldn't stand talking to her or being around her, but now he did, I think it means he's starting to move on. He's not in as much pain anymore."

"He did it because he's stubborn," I said.

"But he still did it," Rachel said. "If you want my opinion, he's not in love with Angelina like he once was. He can't be. He's had time to start to accept she's with Oliver and he has other things to think about. Like you." When she saw my expression, she kept going before I could interject. "Even if Fred did invite Angelina over to prove a point to you, don't you think that means something? If he cared so much about something you said that he wanted to prove you wrong, it has to mean something."

"Angelina said he's fond of me," I said.

"He is. Why? Does that bother you?" Rachel looked at me in confusion. "Oh," she finally said, her expression clearing. "Oh. I see. It does bother you because you are more than just fond of him."

I glared at her. "I didn't exactly plan it."

"No one does," Rachel shrugged. She looked at me, her expression gentle. "No wonder your so upset. You fought with him, realized you liked him, and jumped to the conclusion he's still in love with his ex-girlfriend all in less than a week. And you're also frustrated because he acted like-what was it-an incorrigible pain in the ass. Like I said, though, if he cared so much about your opinion, even one given to him in anger, it has to mean something. So don't give up just yet."

"You're really telling me not to give up on him?" I asked in disbelief.

Rachel shrugged. "I'm still not entirely sure I'm convinced he won't hurt you, even if it's unintentional. But I can't tell you to stop feeling what you feel. So in the meantime, don't give up. And just be careful."

Before I could answer, there was a knock on the door. I looked at Rachel in slight alarm while she simply looked at me a little sheepishly.

"Rachel, who is at the door?" I asked slowly.

"Um," she said, biting her lip. She stood up and went to open the door, pulling it back and stepping aside to reveal Fred and George.

"You told them?" I said, standing up and looking at Rachel. "You told them and asked them to come here?"

"What a warm welcome," George said jauntily as he breezed into the apartment, Fred entering behind him. I could sense him looking at me but I refused to meet his eyes, instead choosing to keep looking at Rachel, waiting for her explanation.

"I thought they could either help talk you down from this craziness you're spewing or they could help figure out a real plan."

"Why, what was the original plan?" George asked from where he was now sitting on the couch.

"Basically show up, hope Eric tries to attack her and then fight him off when he does," Rachel said. "Just the two of us, apparently."

"We do have magic," I said feebly. "And besides, I was more hoping that you'd be able to just go for help."

"Where would we even stay?" Rachel asked. "And how would we get there?"

"I don't know," I whispered. Rachel made a face as if to say I told you so, which only got me angry again. "Listen, are you on my side or not? You're suddenly ganging up on me when a moment ago, you were half ganging up on him." I pointed to Fred, who looked at us in surprise.

"What did I do?" he asked.

"Lots," Rachel and I said in unison. We looked at each other for a moment before Rachel sighed.

"Look, Soph, you've got to stop getting defensive about everything. You're like a-a cornered animal or something. You start lashing out at people who are only trying to help you."

"Wow, thanks," I snorted.

"We're just trying to help you," she repeated quietly. "None of us would be here if we didn't want to help. We just-we do need a real plan. At least somewhat. For instance, we do need a way to get to Salem and we need a place to stay."

George snorted from behind me. "She's right, Soph. Your plan was pretty half-baked."

I turned to glare at him. "I don't remember asking you."

"Soph," Fred said quietly, stepping towards me and gently reaching for my hand. I stepped away, but he continued to look at me almost pleadingly. "Please-

"You must be happy," I seethed. "This is what you wanted all along, isn't it? Me going back to Salem?"

"Not alone and without a plan," Fred whispered. "And I only wanted you to go if you truly wanted to go. If you were ready."

"That's not what it sounded like last week."

"I only told you what I thought. If you weren't totally ready, then of course you shouldn't go. I was only trying to suggest it because I think you can do it. I think you want to do it. Clearly, you do..."

I interrupted him with a snort and Fred pursed his lips.

"Is this about what happened earlier? What I said?"

"Are you serious? How can it not be?" I asked in disbelief. "Why would you even say it if this wasn't the outcome you wanted?" I shook my head. "I don't think I've ever met anyone so confusing."

Fred sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, Soph," he said. "I don't want you to do this because of me—"

"Sometimes the only way to get someone to do something is out of spite, I guess," I snapped. "It certainly worked with you and Angelina."

Fred winced. "You're right. I was mad that you said what you said. But I wasn't mad at you because you were right. Mostly I was angry at myself for being a coward. And I think you must be angry with yourself too. If what I said bothered you enough, then you must be. Either way, if you're serious about this, I'm just asking for you to let us help you. It's not that bad, you know. I want to help. And face it, you need it. You can't take on Eric alone again. You know you can't."

I looked up at him, my expression turning from stony to helpless. I felt like every muscle in my body was unclenching with defeat. "So what do you think I should do?" I asked quietly

"Well, for starters, change that I to a we," he said. "Second, let us all help you come up with a plan that will go into effect tomorrow, not in the middle of the night. Okay?"

I nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted. Too exhausted. Too exhausted to argue. Too exhausted to be angry. Just entirely too exhausted. Fred reached out and gently took my hand. I let him and he pulled me to the couch, where he took a seat at the end opposite George and gently tugged me down to sit beside him. He lifted his arm and put it around me. Again, I let him. I even rested my head on his shoulder.

I wanted to talk to him about everything that had happened over the past day. He'd gone from unable to look at me to sitting with his arm around me and ready to come with me all the way back to Salem. But it wasn't the time to talk. We had bigger things to deal with.

The room was quiet for a moment before Rachel offered to get Fred and George their own mugs of tea. They agreed and she hurried off to make it. As we waited, I tucked my feet under me on the couch and adjusted myself against Fred's side. He trailed his thumb back and forth over my shoulder, the motion oddly soothing. Me, him and George sat there on the couch in silence, not even talking, and I felt as if I could've actually fallen asleep.

But then Rachel came back with the tea, handing one to George and slipping the second one into Fred's free hand before sitting back down in her chair.

"So," she began picking her own mug up again. "What's our plan?"

"The four of you are completely, truly mad."

"And you have the sheer audacity to drag us into your madness."

"Have Fred and George ever done things any different, though?"

I sat anxiously in the chair I was in, my hands clasped in my lap as I looked between Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Fred and George were leaning casually against the wall on either side of my chair and Rachel was examining a photo on Harry's desk of him and Ginny at the World Cup where they'd gotten engaged.

The first problem we'd had to solve last night was the issue of how we'd get to Salem. Apparating that far was not only difficult, but fairly dangerous. Even I'd been lucky enough to make it here the first time without more than splinching my forearm pretty badly. But back then, in the moment, I hadn't been thinking of the consequences of Apparating across continents. I didn't even care. But I'd made it with just that injury and no missing limbs, and I was grateful for it, even if I hadn't realized it at the time.

So since Apparating was out of the question for us now, and we had no fireplaces in Salem that we could Floo into, our only option was a Portkey. But we couldn't just create a Portkey unauthorized. Fred and George were all for it and there was a part of me that was too. I didn't want to bring more people into our mess. Besides, the last thing I wanted was to get in trouble with the Ministry for doing something illegally. I already had Roger thinking I was crazy and suspicious. I didn't need to add any fuel to his fire. But if I trusted anyone to help us create an authorized Portkey and also not bring attention to it, it was Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"No, you want to know what's mad?" Fred was saying now, looking at the trio standing across from us. He was still leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest and his eyebrows raised. "What's mad is that Sophie has to stay confined to the Burrow day in and day out, surrounded by protection charms because her crazy foster father followed her to another country, attacked her, and also killed Noah."

"We don't know he killed Noah," Hermione said.

"Come on, Hermione," Fred said, his voice loud with exasperation as he looked at her. "Don't kid yourself. The Ministry can't find him because for one, the guy is very slippery for a man without magic, and second, the Magical Law Enforcement team doesn't give a rats arse about this. Not with Roger in charge. We're getting nowhere. Sophie's unsafe and so are the rest of us at this point." He paused and glanced down at me as I winced. "We have to do something." He swallowed.

"And you're confident that Eric will follow you all back to Salem?" Harry said. "That's your plan? Lure him away from there and let him start attacking you in an unfamiliar place?"

"It's not unfamiliar to Sophie," Fred pointed out. "And we're fairly certain he's got eyes everywhere. We don't know how, but he managed to find out that Sophie came here in the first place. He found her at Noah's when he attacked her and he managed to find Noah the night he was killed. He has to be getting help. One Muggle man can't be doing what he's doing. Either that or he's not a Muggle after all and he's just led Sophie to believe he is."

"Wouldn't surprise me," I mumbled, gazing out the window.

"I don't see why you can't just let the Ministry do their job," Hermione said.

"I've told you already, they're doing a shitty job," Fred argued. "And I think we're all tired of sitting on our asses, waiting and waiting. So are you going to help us or not?" He looked at Ron. "And that includes not telling Mum."

"Why are you looking at me?" Ron asked hotly. "Besides, we won't have to say anything. She's going to notice something's up when she finds Sophie gone and you two aren't at work."

"What are you planning on doing about work?" I asked, looking up at Fred.

"Lee and Verity can hold down the fort for a little while," Fred shrugged.

"You trust them that much?" I asked, my mouth falling open. "Enough to run your entire shop by themselves?"

"Lee knows how to run it almost as much as we do," George said. "He worked with us for a while after he was done with school. He stayed to finish out the year, obviously, and then he came and helped us run the shop until he decided to go into sports journalism."

"Impressive," I commented.

Fred smiled slightly at me before turning back to Ron. "Anyway, you have to make sure no one comes after us."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Ron asked, crossing his arms.

"Doesn't matter how," Fred said. "You'll figure something out. You didn't manage to become an Auror because you're an idiot, no matter what George and I have told you."

"Was that a compliment?" Ron looked at Fred skeptically.

Fred shrugged. "I think we need people here as well. Which is another reason we can't have everyone coming to Salem. We'd stick out just a bit, don't you think? Probably too much. More than we'd like. And we can't-what's that expression-put all our eggs in one basket? We have to keep investigating here and in case something goes wrong or there's another attack-it just makes sense, don't you all think so?"

"That is a good point," Ron said thoughtfully. "We could just tell everyone that."

Fred clapped a hand to his forehead. "What a concept," he said. "Telling everyone the truth."

"Not like you've always been a fan of that concept!" Ron said loudly as Hermione shushed him.

"You know what?" She turned to look at me, her eyes also flitting over the twins and Rachel. "This whole thing is totally insane, I agree, but I think you should do it. Go back to Salem. Merlin knows we haven't had any luck here and I think four witches and wizards can win against one man without magic, no matter how slippery he is."

"Well, that's not counting if he has someone helping him," Ron added. "Then it's two of them." Hermione smacked him upside the head and he quickly backtracked. "But you can still handle yourselves, of course."

"Thanks, Hermione," George said with a grin.

"We knew you'd come around," Fred added. "Now, let's get started on that Portkey."

"So, do you know where we are?"

Fred, George, Rachel and I were standing at the edge of Salem Woods, which was where our Portkey had landed. We'd originally landed somewhere more towards the middle and we'd had to use our wands to point us in the right direction. It took us to a pathway that eventually led us out of the woods and onto a side street near a golf course.

"We're in Salem," I said wryly, looking at Fred out of the corner of my eye.

"Are we really?" he asked, his voice full of sarcasm. "George, did you know we were in Salem? Was Salem really the place we sat for hours last night planning to visit? I forgot the name after talking about it for so long."

"Shut up," I said with a laugh. "But yes, I have a general idea of where we are. I never really came down here much. I lived closer to the downtown area and all the places that are tourist attractions."

"How long of a walk to all that stuff?" Fred asked.

I let a slow puff of air out of my mouth as I thought. "I'd say at least a thirty minute walk. Probably a little longer."

Fred smiled. "And where's a good spot to Apparate where we wouldn't get noticed?"

"Fred, we have to blend in as much as possible," Rachel sighed, a bossy tinge to her voice.

"That's why I asked for the best spot to not be noticed," Fred answered with a slight eye roll. "Come on, you can't expect us to come all the way here and not use magic, especially if Eric shows up."

"Yeah, because magic worked so well for people here before," Rachel said under her breath.

I turned and shot her a look. "Things aren't the same as they were back then."

"Sure, but we still can't just do magic in front of Muggles," Rachel argued. "Here or anywhere."

"We won't be doing it in front of Muggles," I said. "I think as long as we're careful, we'll be fine. Besides, like Fred said, if we do run into Eric, we're going to have to use magic. It's our only advantage against him."

"You're right," Rachel said, nodding. "It'll be no different than being back in England, really. We just happen to be here on a mission."

I smiled. "Exactly." I cleared my throat as I thought of a spot closer to the middle of town that we could go to. Suddenly, I thought of something and looked up. "We decided to find some place to stay in a neighboring town, yes? Considering it's October and, as I said last night, all the hotels and inns here will most likely be full. So, shouldn't we go straight to a hotel?"

"No," Fred said. "I want to start seeing Salem. We're here, aren't we?"

"Fred," Rachel sighed, "Sophie's right. You can't keep changing the plan that we all came up with together. We said we'd come here and get a place to stay first before exploring Salem. We've all got bags-don't you think we should get settled in before we start traipsing all over town?"

"No," Fred said simply. "Here-look-" He took out his wand and waved it over our bags. Mine instantly felt light as a feather. "There," Fred went on, "now we'll hardly notice them."

Rachel looked at George in exasperation. "A little help with your brother, please?"

George held up his hands in defeat. "It's hard to change his mind once he's set on something," he said. "Even for me. Besides, I have to admit, I'm excited to start exploring Salem, too. If we stop now, I may not want to get going again."

Rachel and I looked at each other as Fred smirked victoriously from beside George.

"Fine," I sighed, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose. Finally, I settled on a suitable place to Apparate. I hoped it would work because my memory wasn't as clear. I hadn't been on the street in a while, obviously, but I was certain the narrow street and the buildings on it hadn't changed since I'd last been there.

I opened my eyes and reached out for Rachel's hand. She took George's, George's took Fred's and Fred took my other hand. A second later, I Apparated us to the place I'd thought of. The narrow space between a brick apartment building and a pale yellow duplex with fake spiderwebs hanging from the porch.

"Come on," I said, dropping Rachel and Fred's hands and stepping out into the road.

The others followed me, looking around.

"Where are we?" George asked.

"Howard Street," I said. I looked to my left and pointed, the end of the street only a few yards away. "Salem Commons is that way and to the left, as well as the Witch Museum, and-" I broke off mid sentence and chewed my lip.

"What's wrong?" George asked.

"The house I used to live in—with Eric—isn't far from here either."

"You know, I wanted to bring this up last night, but I think we should go. To the house," Fred said carefully. "Eric might expect you to so if we want to confront him, that might be the place. As opposed to just openly wandering around Salem, looking into Elizabeth's backstory. I know that's where we planned to start and it's a good start, but..." He trailed off and shrugged.

I swallowed as I felt my face pale. I was surprised Fred hadn't mentioned this sooner, actually, but part of me knew he'd suggest it eventually.

"We can't go now," Rachel answered before I could.

"Did I say now?" Fred retaliated. "I meant at some point."

I fiddled with the zipper on my coat as I thought that over. Fred was right. I knew he was. If Eric were to follow me back here, the place he'd want me to be would be back at that stupid house. Where it had all started and where he could do his best to lock me back inside and never let me out. The thought was enough to make my legs tremble beneath me. How could I go back there with Eric still on the loose? But I also knew that Fred, George and Rachel wouldn't let anything happen to me. They'd fight to keep me safe, even if it meant putting themselves in danger. I wasn't sure which option frightened me more, but then again, I'd allowed them to even come with me here, so it would appear that Eric frightened me more. No surprise there.

"Come on," Rachel said, looping her arm through mine and heading for the main road. "The sooner we start our tour, the sooner we can go get settled in."

"You said something about a Witch Museum?" Fred asked as he and George jogged to catch up to me and Rachel.

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Rachel sighed.

"It's coming up on the left," I said, pointing ahead of us.

"What's in it?" Fred.

I shrugged. "I've never been inside, actually. At least, I don't think so. I may have when I was younger with my mother, but I don't remember." I paused. "I think they just tell the story of the trials using scenes set up with life size wax figures. They probably don't go over anything we don't know already."

We finally drew level with the museum and the four of us just stood outside, staring at it. It was a tall building made of brown stone, with a giant window of red glass and black iron in the front center. It almost looked like some kind of small, eerie castle.

"Wow," Fred said. "How is it you never went in there, Sophie?"

I rolled my eyes. "I lived here my whole life—up until April," I said. "It's different when you live here. Besides it's not like I had time or any means to go there once I was in foster care."

"Understood," Fred said quietly, glancing at me. "Sorry."

I simply shrugged in response.

"Who's this intimidating bloke?" George was now wandering around to the front of a large statue in front of the museum. The statue was of a man in a hat and a billowing cloak, looking down from atop a giant stone.

"The founder of Salem," I said, joining him and looking up into the face of the statue.

"You think he was a wizard?" Rachel asked, peering up at the statue as well.

"I always thought so," I said. "Tour guides always say he's not, but then again, they're Muggles and as far as they know, magic doesn't exist."

I watched as Fred slowly turned on the spot, taking everything else in that he could see. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to a square brick building that was across from us.

"The Hawthorne. It's a hotel," I replied. "A pretty popular one, too. It's rumored to be haunted."

I turned to see Fred and George looking at each other with devious grins on their faces. Uh-oh, I thought. That couldn't possibly mean anything good.

"We have to stay there," Fred insisted.

Rachel and I shared a look of disbelief. "Fred," I sighed. "That's not what we discussed last night."

"Come on, Soph," he said. "What the hell are we looking for a hotel in a neighboring town for when there's this one! Right in the middle of town and Muggles think it's haunted."

"Exactly. Haven't you been listening?" I asked. "It's a popular hotel, right in the middle of town, rumored to be haunted and it's October. It's most definitely completely booked. Trust me, there's not a room available in that place. That's why we decided to stay somewhere out of town. We don't quite have a choice at this point unless you want to camp out under a tree or on a street corner."

Fred sighed impatiently. "Are we or are we not all of age and allowed to use magic?"

"Yes, but-"

"What's the point of being able to do magic if not to make life easier?" Fred went on. He smiled and began walking towards the hotel. "Come on. Follow my lead."

George immediately began following his brother, leaving me and Rachel behind to once again share a look of disbelief.

"I know you like him," Rachel muttered, "but he's insane."

"I know he is," I replied. "And I'm not sure there's anything we can do about it right now, so I guess we'd just better follow him. If not, I hate to think what kind of trouble he'd get into on his own."

The two of us hurried to catch up with the twins, who were already pulling open the door to the hotel and breezing woard the front desk with an air of confidence that both impressed and intimidated me.

"Hello, we'd like two rooms, please," Fred told the man at the desk. "Adjoining ones, preferably."

The man looked at us with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry," he said, and his voice even had a slight chuckle to it. "We're completely booked tonight. We're booked for the entire month, actually. This is a very busy season for us and we make reservations up to a year in advance..."

"I told you," I muttered to Fred.

"What a shame," Fred said sadly. He ignored me completely and continued speaking to the man behind the desk. "You see, this trip came up kind of unexpectedly for us and we were all very excited to see this wonderfully historic town. My brother and I are big history enthusiasts, actually."

I rolled my eyes as Fred continued to talk and the man behind the desk looked at him with an expression of bewilderment and slight irritation. Meanwhile, Rachel nudged me and surreptitiously tilted her head towards George, who had slowly slid his wand out of his sleeve. He waved it in a movement that I recognized as the Confundus charm, and non-verbally cast it at the man behind the desk.

A dazed look came over his face and he smiled as Fred wound down his story, grinning proudly.

"So," Fred said, peering at the man's name tag, "William. Can't you possibly help us out?"

"I think I can shift around some of the bookings we had scheduled to arrive for check-in this afternoon," William said. He flipped through some files on the desk before walking into a back room and returning a moment later with two room keys. He handed them to Fred. "Rooms 310 and 311," he said.

"Excellent," Fred grinned. "Thank you so much."

"Just a few more things. How will you be paying for your stay and how long will you be staying?"

"Erm..." Fred and George glanced at each other before Fred spoke again. "Let's start at a week and go from there. You can bill us at the end of our stay." He smiled and jovially tapped his hand against the desktop. "Thanks again, William."

And with that, he led the way away from the front desk, room keys in hand.

"Are you two for real?" I hissed as Rachel and I jogged after them towards the set of lifts.

"Completely," Fred said, pressing the Up button. "And you shouldn't be complaining. George and I just got us hotel rooms. That was step one of the plan that you and Rachel were begging me to stick to earlier, wasn't it? Find a hotel?"

"Yes, but this one wasn't what we had in mind."

"Only because you said it was full, yes?" Fred asked, as the doors to the lift opened and we all got inside. "It's not full anymore."

"Only because you cheated our way in!" I exclaimed.

"We just put two people out of their rooms," Rachel said. "And don't you think they'll figure out the mistake eventually? William won't be Confunded forever and there are other employees here."

"Ah, well good thing we also charmed the hotel log," George said with a laugh.

"When did you do that?" We had reached our floor by now and Fred and George were already out of the lift and heading down the hallway towards the correct rooms, leaving me and Rachel no choice but to chase them.

"Right after he gave us our keys," George said. "The hotel log now says our names and when whoever originally booked these rooms arrive later, it's going to look like a double-booking error. So unfortunate, isn't it?" He shot me a smirk over his shoulder. "But mistakes happen, don't they?"

"Give us a little bit of credit," Fred said as we reached the rooms. He stopped outside before turning and handing me one of the keys. "Room 311," he said cheerily. "See, I even thought to ask for separate, but adjoining rooms so that we wouldn't be too crowded and to also give us all some sort of privacy."

"How thoughtful," Rachel muttered. She sighed before taking the key from my hand and crossing over to the door to room 311. "Well, I suppose since we're here and we went through all that effort, we might as well just go with it."

"See, she gets it," Fred said, looking at me and smiling as Rachel unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it that way as she turned to look at him.

"If we get caught, it is entirely on you," she said. "So I hope you're prepared to come up with a good story as to how and why we managed to snag these rooms and put two law-abiding guests out."

"You don't know they're law-abiding," Fred said. "We could be doing everyone a favor by keeping out two criminals."

I snorted as I started to follow Rachel into the room. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Fred."

"Meet you two in fifteen minutes?" Fred asked. "We've barely scratched the surface of exploring this place."

"Sure," I sighed, shrugging one shoulder.

"You don't sound all that excited," Fred said.

"Would you be?" I asked. "This isn't exactly some kind of vacation anyway," I said. "We came here for a reason."

"Yeah and most of our plan relies heavily on being on the lookout for Eric. We can't do that from inside this hotel."

"Point taken," I said. I swallowed and looked up at him. "Fifteen minutes, then."

"Fifteen minutes," Fred agreed.