CHAPTER SIX: rem vitae
[the reality of life]
"without the mask where will you hide? can't find yourself, lost in your lie."
Evanescence, Everybody's fool
in which he seeks advice
Situated quite literally in the middle of nowhere - hidden behind a large wheat field just a few miles from a large, winding river - is where the Weasley family home resided.
The base structure of the home implied it had once been a large cottage - only, more rooms had been added as the family extended; now making it several storeys high and crooked, as though it would fall if not for the magic that held it up.
Seven chimneys were perched in various spots atop the red roof; quirky and odd, much like the people that inhabited it. Near the large tumbledown garage, several fat brown chickens pecked their way around the yard - seemingly circling the lop-sided sign that was stuck in the ground.
The Burrow. Known for its warmth, happiness, and strong familial values.
The small kitchen was as cramped as it usually was on Wednesday mornings - with most of the Weasley children sat around the scrubbed wooden table in the centre. Molly Weasley pottered haphazardly around the room, placing various plates on the table as the frying pan on the stove reheated the previously cooked bacon and sausages.
Upon Molly's request - or rather, demand - it had become a tradition for the Weasley family to come together on a Wednesday morning for breakfast. It was the only time the ageing-woman ever got to spend time with her children now that they were all grown up and living their separate lives.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, it was virtually impossible to get all seven of her children under one roof. Though four out of seven was better than none.
Percy, Fred, George, and Ron were all sat in their usual chairs around the table - eagerly waiting for their mum to dish out breakfast. Though, none more so than Ron who was practically salivating over the smell of the sausages - his bottomless appetite seemingly growing larger after the war.
Bill was currently in France with Fleur - the pair taking Victoire, who had been born earlier in the year, to visit her maternal grandparents and aunt. Since moving permanently into Shell Cottage, Bill was able to spend a lot more time around his family - something Molly was extremely pleased about.
The woman rarely went a week without making an unexpected visit to her eldest child's house. Hence Bill and Fleur's spontaneous trip to France.
A few months after the war, Charlie had returned to the dragon reserve in Romania - his face on the enchanted clock permanently pointed towards 'Mortal Peril'. Between taking care of the dragon's, Charlie now spent most of his days organising fundraisers in the hope to reopen the reserve in Scotland.
Ginny, on the other hand, had been recruited by the Holyhead Harpies almost immediately after the war had ended. During playing season, the witch was required to stay in the team's dormitories - only having weekends and off seasons to visit her family.
The rest of her children tended to come and go as they pleased, much to Molly's displeasure. Though, Percy was around more than most - still trying to repent for his previous actions before the war.
Molly placed a plate full of sausages and bacon on the table beside the toast and eggs and watched with a soft smile as her four boys dug in eagerly. No matter how old each of them got, they would always be partial to their mums home cooking.
With a satisfied smile, Molly flicked her wand casually towards the sink causing the dishes to begin to clean themselves - clinking gently in the background. "I told your Aunt Muriel that I'd visit her at St. Mungo's later."
With the collective sea of groans and varying expressions of displeasure the woman got in response, one would have thought she'd just asked them to de-gnome the garden.
"Don't look at me like that, I'm not forcing any of you to go - though it would be nice to have some company." And, whilst her words conveyed a choice - her tone and the pleading expression stretched upon her face suggested the only appropriate one was to agree to accompany her.
Ron, however, was either too oblivious to recognise this or simply did not care. "Sorry mum, I have loads of work to catch up on," the youngest of the four redheads spoke through a mouthful - which earned him a scolding glare from across the table - "who knew working at the Ministry could ever be worse than Hogwarts."
Fred rolled his eyes at his brother before turning towards his mother with an apologetic smile, despite not being sorry at all. Even if he didn't already have plans, he still wouldn't willingly go and visit his judgemental great aunt.
"I've got a date with Angelina." Molly grinned at his revelation, waving him off with a happy expression as though she knew something he didn't - the sight enough to put Fred even more on edge than he had been since Angelina had made the plans.
Molly turned to look at the younger of the two twins who shrugged with an unperturbed expression."I simply just don't want to," George remarked, echoing Fred's internal thoughts as he grabbed another piece of toast.
His mum's disappointed scowl was something both he and Fred had grown rather accustomed to over the many years they'd spent hauled up in their bedroom creating various prank products. It had seemed to lose all of its effect after the scolding they had both received upon dropping out of their final school year.
None of the seven Weasley children had ever seen their mother quite so furious - everything after that seemed to pale in comparison. "I'll come with you, mum," Percy spoke up with a smile; the man still trying to make up for his past behaviour.
Molly grinned brightly at him, kissing the top of his head as a 'thank you' as she resumed cleaning the small kitchen. "Kiss ass," Fred muttered under his breath, coughing to disguise his words as George and Ron both chuckled in amusement.
Percy rolled his eyes at his brothers teasing - though an amused smile did curl at his lips as his mother slapped Fred upside the head as she passed. "Ignore your brother Percy," the plump woman spoke with a smile before fixing a pointed glare at Fred, "it seems he lost his manners in that explosion."
George snorted in amusement. "I'm not sure he had any, to begin with," the younger twin retorted - ducking in his chair with glee as Fred moved to punch his arm.
"Morning, Weasley's," Arthur Weasley spoke with a wide grin as he entered the house through the side door. As he passed the fireplace, the enchanted mirror perched on top of it promptly called him out for his dishevelled state - "wash your face, scruffy."
Arthur scrunched his nose up in displeasure - the black dirt on the side of it crumbling a little as he did. It was apparent from the grease that stained his hands, and the black soot on his face that the man had been sat out in his garage all morning - tinkering with his 'mindless contraptions' as Molly pointedly referred to them.
"I think it's about time we got a new mirror, don't you," Arthur remarked with an airy tone as he took his seat at the head of the table. The man reached for a piece of toast - oblivious to the fixated glare his wife was giving him for not bothering to clean the grease from his hands before he did so - "so, what's on the agenda for today?"
Ron swallowed the food in his mouth before answering - saving himself from being attacked with the tea towel his mother gripped firmly in her hands. "Mum's trying to recruit us to visit Aunt Muriel."
As his son's words registered, Arthur began to stand from the table. "Well, it's been nice Weasley's - unfortunately, I must be off to work," the man remarked, sparing each of his sons a smile as he reached for another piece of toast.
Ron, George, Fred, and Percy all smirked knowingly in amusement as they watched their father scramble to the door he entered through only moments earlier. "Arthur, you retired last month," Molly called after her husband - her brows furrowed deep in confusion as Arthur continued as though he hadn't heard her.
"Bye, Molly dear."
The short, plump woman sighed as she shook her head in despair, "what am I going to do with that father of yours."
"You could always sell him," George shrugged, smirking deviously as Fred nodded from beside him. "Or stun him - I reckon he'd make a half-decent scarecrow," Fred offered, his expression mirroring George's without fault.
And, despite herself, Molly could not fight the grin that broke out across her face - nor the amused laughter that escaped her lips.
Though not all of her family could be together all the time, she truly treasured the moments she got to spend with each of them. Whilst the war had scarred each of them in numerous different ways; leaving them all with their own issues to deal with, they were all still alive and breathing.
They still had each other - others hadn't been as lucky.
Romero's was a quaint restaurant tucked in the corner of one of the backstreets of Hogsmeade Village. In spite of its hidden location, the restaurant was always bustling with people laughing and talking loudly as they ate and drank.
The restaurant had a rather homely atmosphere - no doubt achieved by the twinkling fairy lights that were strung across the ceiling and the vibrant ivy that lined the stone walls. It was both romantic and casual - making it the perfect location for a date or a simple hang out space.
Over the past year, it had become Asteria and Evan's regular date destination. In fact, the pair had been there so much that the woman who owned it, Mrs Romero, had given them their own table - in front of the side window which allowed them to watch passers-by in secret.
The two would sit for hours, drinking and eating as they made up stories about the people they'd spot through the window. Plus, it didn't hurt that the Pizza there was utterly delectable.
Asteria and Evan were by no means exclusively dating - rather, the pair 'kept each other company', as Evan had so eloquently put it one night. But, it had never been just about the sex; they were friends first and foremost, and that, despite everything, had never changed.
As per Pureblood tradition, the two friends had once been unwilling participants of an arranged engagement - though both were greatly thankful it had fallen through when both of their fathers had died during the Battle of Hogwarts.
To anyone on the outside, Asteria and Evan appeared to be the perfect couple - possessing all the qualities one would expect of a typical couple, save for the most important one. Real feelings. They were attracted to each other, there was no doubt about that - and they did love each other. That love just didn't run any deeper than friendship.
Asteria had found herself preferring the relationship she had with Evan to any other she had in the past - there was no jealousy or room for potential heartbreak, just the companionship and pleasure. But even she knew it wasn't sustainable.
It was purely coincidence that Fred and Angelina had also chosen that spot for their date that night. Though Fred was beginning to question whether anything was a coincidence any more when Asteria Nott was involved.
His eyes had unconsciously been drawn to her - sitting in the corner of the restaurant, her head thrown back in laughter with a wide grin spread on her lips, looking far more positive and happy than Fred had ever seen her. In truth, he hadn't thought Asteria possessed any feelings other than malice and animosity.
He wasn't sure why he loathed her so much in that moment. Perhaps it was the fact that he believed she shouldn't be allowed to be happy after all the hurt she and the other Death Eaters had caused before and during the war.
Or, perhaps it was because whilst she was sat laughing obnoxiously over something that probably hadn't been that funny, he felt as though he'd just been hit by a truck as his girlfriend sat opposite him - looking at him as though he'd hand stitched all the stars in the sky.
Guilt. That was the main feeling. And then despair, and misery, and fear.
All Angelina had done was propose the idea of moving in together ( for the 3rd time, mind you - though this time, she had spoken to Molly about it who had excitedly shown her the newest listings around London as though the woman had been eagerly saving them for that very moment ).
Now his mothers earlier elation made sense. No wonder she had been so eager to see him off on his date - he didn't doubt she'd be expecting an owl later telling her all about how he and Angelina had decided to move in together.
She would never receive one, though. Because despite how happy Angelina currently looked and felt, all Fred could feel was a suffocating sense of dread. He knew he should've been just as happy as she was - this was their next step. The right step.
So why did the idea of living together make him so miserable? He knew the answer to that, too. He just didn't want to admit it to himself - much less admit it to Angelina.
Perhaps that's what made him follow after her, the second he'd seen her slip out of the entrance.
The winding streets of Hogsmeade Village were unusually silent during the later hours of the day - far quieter than Asteria had been used to, anyway.
Whenever she had visited the Village during her time at Hogwarts, the streets were always bustling with rambunctious children - loud laughter and chatter distributing the otherwise peaceful streets.
And whilst she had never really been much of a fan of silence, Asteria found herself revelling in the serenity the calm village offered her as she took a seat on the cold curb - a lit cigarette occupying the space between her first two fingers.
However, the silence, like most things in her life, was fleeting.
"Those'll kill you, Nott," Fred Weasley's familiar teasing sounded as the redhead exited the restaurant - his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat as the bitter September air curled around them.
Asteria only smirked at his words, exhaling the smoke she'd just taken in and watching as it evaporated. She had always criticised Theo for his habit; regarding it as nothing more than an idiotic, and expensive, way to ruin your health.
Though now, as she watched the smoke she expelled wisp around her before evaporating into the air, she began to understand the allure. She could pretend, in that moment, that her worries and anxieties were the smoke - lingering for a moment before dissolving into nothing.
She did not doubt that she'd pay for it later when they all returned at once, bearing down on her soul until she gave into them. But for now, - for this one, fleeting moment - she could forget and watch as they turned to smoke before her eyes.
"Careful, Weasley," Asteria smirked in her usual wicked manner as she turned her head slightly towards the redhead. "I might start to think you care."
Fred snorted, "doubtful."
Asteria said nothing in response - instead choosing to take another drag of her cigarette, inhaling deeply as she watched Fred shuffle on his feet. His manner was awkward and hesitant; two words that seemed completely foreign when describing Fred Weasley.
"Can I ask you something?" Fred asked after a moment - and though he had spoken the words, the expression on his face conveyed his instant regret.
Asteria snorted, her red-painted lips curled into a smirk as she rose a brow at the uncharacteristically gauche wizard. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't the slightest bit amused by the fact that Fred Weasley - usually arrogant and annoyingly self-assured - was currently having trouble forming articulate sentences.
"The Fred Weasley wants me - Asteria Nott, the proud Slytherin Princess of Darkness - to give him my opinion?" Asteria remarked with sarcastic flair, a smirk on her lips as she watched Fred roll his eyes. "I'm flattered."
In truth, Fred wasn't quite sure what had possessed him to follow after Asteria and ask her, of all people, for help. It was as though some unknown force had driven him in her direction - urging him to seek her advice as though it knew she'd be the one to communicate what Fred already knew but couldn't admit.
"Well, not really. But something tells me you're the only one that won't hesitate to give me an honest answer," Fred replied with a heavy sigh as he invited himself to take a seat on the curb beside her - though not too close.
Asteria tilted her head as she looked at the man, taking another drag of her cigarette as she thought over his words. "Well, I do just adore helping the less fortunate," the brunette taunted with a nefarious glint in her eyes, "you've got five minutes."
Fred nodded, swallowing thickly as he tried to figure out the best way to formulate his words - internally debating whether this was a good idea. It wasn't. Revealing your most vulnerable thoughts to your enemy was never a good idea, and deep down he knew it - and yet, he couldn't seem to stop the words from tumbling from his lips.
"Say you've been in a relationship for six years and your partner proposes the idea of moving in together - in theory, you should be elated, right?" Fred began, wringing his hands anxiously in his lap as he spilt his secrets.
"It's the next step, it makes sense. However, instead of excitement: all you feel is a gut-wrenching sense of dread and guilt. What do you do?"
Asteria watched the wizard carefully - studying his movements and tone, noticing the way he was looking everywhere apart from at her. As though he was trying to trick his mind into believing she was somebody else.
"Trouble in paradise?" Asteria teased, her words lacking the malicious weight they usually held.
Fred scowled as he turned his gaze toward the witch, as though he had just remembered who it was he was talking to. "Don't judge me, Nott," the redhead grunted bitterly, "I'm not in the mood for spite."
Asteria snorted in dry amusement. "Pot," the brunette drawled as she pointed to Fred before pointing to herself a moment later, "kettle."
Fred rolled his eyes once more, reminding Asteria more of a petulant child than a 22-year-old man. And, for once in her life, the witch allowed the mirth and judging in her tone to dissolve and instead became helpful.
Perhaps it was the wine she had consumed that night - or the nicotine in her cigarette that was clogging the parts of her mind that knew better.
Or perhaps it was simply the fact that she had never seen Fred Weasley look so distraught - and despite how much she loathed him, unhappiness, she had decided, did not look good on him.
"You don't need my thoughts on this, Weasley. You already know what to do," Asteria spoke with a sort of calmness that made her words seem more philosophical than they were. Perhaps if her job at the Ministry didn't work out, she could become an Oracle.
Fred huffed in frustration as the witch analysed him, "and how could you possibly know that?"
Asteria shrugged, unperturbed by the malicious edge to his tone - it wasn't anything she wasn't already used to. "For the same reason you chose to tell me instead of George or Lee," the brunette replied simply as Fred tilted his head curiously.
"My advice and opinions don't mean anything to you. You don't care about what I have to say, or how I look at you - but you care about them," Asteria explained, watching as Fred's expression became more closed off with each syllable she spoke.
They both knew her words were true - and Fred was furious that Asteria had managed to get into his head so easily. She understood him; a fact that left Fred seething at her for even daring to put herself on the same level as him, and at himself for ever thinking that this had been a good idea.
Still, Asteria pushed on - completely unbothered by the harsh glare she was receiving from Fred. "And you're scared that talking to them about this will make it real - that you know you'll have no other choice but to do that very thing you're so hesitant to do because they'll hate you if you don't."
Fred gritted his teeth, his expression more angered than Asteria had ever seen it, "I didn't ask you to psychoanalyse me, Nott."
"Nobody is forcing you to listen to me," Asteria replied with a roll of her eyes - stubbing out the end of her cigarette on the curb beside her. "You're still here because a part of you, no matter how inconsequential, knows that what I'm saying is true."
Fred turned his attention towards the cobble stoned path - his glare unyielding. He knew this was a bad idea. He had known it from the beginning. What sort of idiot willingly discusses personal, intimate matters with their enemy?
How dare she analyse him so rawly. How dare she speak of his issues as though she knew what he was going through - as if they were friends. And how dare she manage to do it all so perfectly.
He knew she was right. Everything she had said so far illuminated that light bulb in his mind, reinforcing everything he already knew himself. And Godric, did he despise her for it.
"You're scared to let go of the last remaining cord that connects you to the life you had before the war, and so you find yourself falling deeper down a rabbit hole of white lies and fabricated promises," Asteria spoke with a tone that almost suggested she understood.
As though her words were not only true of what Fred was going through but what she had gone through herself. Another common ground the two shared that Asteria could not help but wish to see crumble.
The witch wrapped her black cardigan tighter around her frame, the chilly September wind biting at any uncovered piece of skin it could find. "At some point, you're going to have to stop and face the fact that time is moving quickly - and life? Life goes right along with it."
Fred huffed out a breath - his jaw clenched as he felt Asteria's gaze burn into the side of his face. "But I think you know that," the brunette stated knowingly, "that's why you already know what that small, gut-wrenching hole in your heart is. Why you know exactly what you need to do."
Fred heard her unspoken words echoing in his head. End your relationship with Angelina. Cut the cord you're still desperately clinging to. Move on.
"This was a mistake," Fred grumbled as began to push himself to his feet - a fiery glare set in his eyes as he looked down at Asteria as though she had just ruined his life. " I knew I should've never asked you. You can't help but suck the happiness out of everyone you speak to."
Asteria snarled at him, her own anger flaring as Fred took out his anger at himself out on her. She knew her words had hit him deep - Merlin, Fred himself knew it - and he was furious that she was able to see straight through him.
He had always prided himself on his ability to keep his emotions well-guarded - defences he had put up to disable anyone from making a fool out of him, which had only grown stronger during the years leading up to the war.
George was the only person that was able to see through the persona Fred had constructed - and that's only because they both practically shared the same brain. Asteria didn't know him at all and she had managed to disable every single one of his defences with just a simple analysis of his movements.
"Just because you're miserable, Nott, doesn't mean you have to make everyone else miserable too," Fred spat viciously - he didn't care if his words were too harsh, or if his tone cut her too deep.
He wanted her angry - seething with white, hot fury just as she had made him. It didn't matter that all she had done was what he had asked her to do; what he had expected her to do.
"Hey, you asked for an honest opinion - do not blame me for the fact that you're too stubborn to hear it," Asteria snarled as she pulled herself to her feet - squaring up to the man despite her small height.
Fred held her glare, hoping to see her burn in the ferocity of it. Which of course, she didn't. If there was one thing Asteria Nott did perfectly, it was holding her ground. She would not be easily weaned by Fred Weasley's attempt at a threat.
"Neither of you deserve to live a lie, Weasley," Asteria stated firmly - the malice that had once been laced within her tone replaced with a newfound sincerity Fred wasn't aware she possessed. "A life of unhappiness is something that even I wouldn't wish on you."
Her words lingered in the air like the smoke she had exhaled only moments before - curling around Fred in a taunting whisper. She was right, Merlin did he know she was right, but admittance was much too big of a pill for him to swallow.
Still, as he watched her re-enter the restaurant and join Evan at their table - the pair laughing and smiling as he stood outside in the cold September air - he found himself yearning for what she had. Happiness. Rare, real, and true - happiness.