TW: mention of corpses, violent deaths, etc.
After much discussion with the Order, it was decided that we didn't have too much to worry about.
When I told Fred what was going on, he was ready to fight his mother tooth-and-nail to let him into the meeting, but she obliged without even putting up a fight. I think she knew if he was involved, he had to be, well, involved.
"Molly, there really isn't any need to be worried," Tonks said, trying to put Mrs. Weasley at ease. "We can protect Fred the same way we protect Cass."
"Have you met my son?!" Mrs. Weasley said, back to panicking. "He can barely sit still, what makes you think he'll stay inside and only go out with a guard?"
"He's got a mother and father who'll see to it that he does," said Remus with a smile.
"Yes, well, as you've all so graciously reminded me, my son is of age and he doesn't have to do what I tell him," Mrs. Weasley huffed, throwing up her hands in the air.
"Mum," Fred said, trying to put his mother at ease, "I promise I'll do whatever the Order says I've got to. I don't give a rat's ar-"
"LANGUAGE," Mrs. Weasley said sharply.
"Mum, I don't really give a rat's arse if I've got to stay inside," he said through a laugh, taking my hand under the table as he did so. "If it's what we – what I – have to do, I can manage for a few weeks until school starts."
"Well, that's another problem, isn't it?!" she asked again, her voice growing higher. "What about when he goes back to school?"
"He will be under the protection that comes with merely being at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said from the doorway, having just arrived at the meeting. I averted my eyes, praying that he hadn't run into Snape and been given the run-down on our blowup.
"Albus, are you-"
"Molly, I assure you, your son – and all of your children – will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts. I cannot promise you much, but I will promise you that," he said softly.
"You can't stop my brother from talking to my father," I said pointedly, tilting my chin up at Dumbledore. "That's how this whole mess started."
"Be that as it may, Miss Malfoy, but it appears that I have a bit of a gossiping problem within my own staff," he said, his eyes glimmering, as if to say, 'I've already spoken to Snape, but I'm not going to let on.' "I have made it clear that members of Hogwarts staff are not to discuss the personal matters of students with anyone. No exceptions."
He smiled at Fred and I, then turned back to Mrs. Weasley, whose face hardened during that whole speech.
"Molly, until the start of term, Mr. Weasley will follow similar rules to Miss Malfoy. Are you all amenable to that?"
Fred nodded. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't look like they were going to object. I was relieved that Fred was going to be under the same protections as me, but I was disappointed that our chances of sneaking out of Grimmauld Place at night were probably now zero.
"Very well," Mrs. Weasley said, wiping her hands on her apron. "I'm sorry for calling you all here for no reason. Clearly we have nothing to worry about."
And with that, she disappeared quickly from the room, Mr. Weasley following her. Everyone else started to peter out of the kitchen and the house, leaving Fred and I alone at the kitchen table. His fingers lingered on my palm, tracing circles small and large across my skin.
"You okay, Malfoy?" he asked me, his eyes full of worry once again.
I shook my head. "No, I'm really not. Freddie, I'm so sorry about all of this-"
"Hey, hey, hey," he whispered, putting his hand on the back of my neck and drawing me close, kissing my forehead. "It's alright. You can't control what your git of a brother says to your dad, and you certainly can't control whether Snape says or does anything, so this really-"
"Please don't say 'it isn't your fault,'" I said tiredly.
"Well, it's not!" he exclaimed. "It's really not your fault, Cass. None of this is. Please believe me, believe us, when we say that."
I nodded slowly. I was learning to believe him when he said that, in more ways than one.
"I believe you. I just wish this hadn't happened so soon before you have to go back to school. I was rather looking forward to us sneaking out a few more times in the dead of night."
A grin crept across his freckled, rosy cheeks.
"Suppose we'll have to settle for sneaking into each other's rooms then, yeah?"
I cocked my eyebrows in surprise, a giggle escaping my lips.
"I suppose. Hey, I know what I wanted to ask you – what were you doing in Diagon Alley today? While I was at Mulpepper's?"
The color suddenly drained from his face. That concerned me only slightly.
"Right, er, that," he coughed, trying to keep his voice low. He shot up from the table and checked in the hallway to make sure no one was listening in the hall, and that no Extendable Ears were dangling from the landings. Once he was certain the coast was clear, he came and sat back down next to me, taking my hands in his.
"Freddie-"
"Right, before I get into this, you've got to swear not to tell anyone. You've also got to swear you won't laugh."
"I solemnly swear that I won't tell and that I won't laugh. Where were you?"
He took a deep breath in, preparing himself.
"Well, I was looking at an empty shop. A space to rent out or even buy. Now that George and I have the money, we want to find a place to set up shop. The joke shop, that is."
I blinked rapidly, taking in what he was saying. I knew Fred and George were going to be testing their products when they returned to school, but I didn't know they were serious about finding a real shop so soon.
"Freddie, that's amazing!" I exclaimed, squeezing his hands and giving him a long kiss on the cheek. "That's really-it's really brilliant. I just-"
"It's a bit soon, I know, but we'll take the fall to test the products, and if by then the shop's still for sale, we'll throw our hats in the ring to buy. I just…this is our chance for the shop, for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, to take off, and we can't let it bypass us. Next year, all I want is to have a real shop with George, a shop where students can come and go for a laugh, and where you'll be working just down the street."
I couldn't believe it. Fred and I, working just down the street from one another, having pretty much our dream jobs at nineteen and eighteen? For all that was horrid in the world, that prospect alone made everything suddenly seem sunnier.
"Freddie…I'm really quite proud of you, you know that?"
He blushed, his cheeks now warm and redder than usual. He looked up at me through the mess of wavy ginger hair in front of his face.
"I do," he replied, the sincerity in his voice obvious. "You've always been proud of me, haven't you? Even when I was stealing things from Snape's stores or getting detention just to be around you?"
I cackled at the memory. All of that felt like a lifetime ago, a lifetime lived by another girl and another boy. Not us, the two who were now living through the beginnings of a war.
"Yes, even then I was proud of you. Always have been, always will be."
We shared the silence after that, our fingers interlocked and my head resting lazily on his shoulder. I really wished that Fred wasn't thrust into this whole mess, and I wished even more that he wasn't leaving so soon. I wondered what would happen to us after he went back to school for his final year, leaving me to work and remain in hiding as best I could.
It was my first instinct to worry, to overthink, to let everything about the situation get the better of me. But instead of worrying, I closed my eyes and let all my thoughts drift away, resting my forehead in the crook of Fred's neck and drifting off to sleep, right there at the kitchen table.
The weeks came and went in a blink of an eye. Despite being a member of the Order and usually causing trouble during meetings, living at the headquarters of the anti-Voldemort movement was rather dull. I'd wake up, have coffee and a bit of breakfast, then spend the days cleaning with the Weasley kids, Hermione, and Harry, or brewing potions for the household – more Doxycide, Dreamless Sleep for Harry and I, and more Wolfsbane for Remus, as the full moon was fast approaching.
Before I knew it, it was almost time for everyone to head back to Hogwarts. It felt strange knowing that I wasn't going to receive a letter with my book list and any other notices for the year, and I couldn't help but feel a pang in my heart when I overheard Ron saying to Harry that their booklists had arrived. Mostly I was thinking about Fred, who was most definitely looking over his own booklist right now, making all sorts of preparations for the upcoming school year. No doubt, I was going to miss him.
As I wandered down to Fred and George's room to snoop on their letters and lists, I heard their voices coming from the second floor, from Harry and Ron's room.
"What's going on?" I asked, sauntering into the room and over to where Fred stood, leaning against him.
"We're just trying to figure out who assigned this Slinkhard book," Fred said, thrusting his book list into my hands. I scanned the piece of parchment until my eyes landed on "Defensive Magical Theory" by Wilbert Slinkard.
"That's a Defense book," I said with a shrug. "Probably just means Dumbledore's found a new Defense professor."
"About time," Fred muttered, taking his list back from me.
"What'd you mean?" Harry asked, his dark brow furrowed.
"Well, we overhard Mum and Dad on the Extendable Ears not long ago that Dumbledore was having a rough time finding someone to take the job this year," Fred explained. "It's not really that big of a surprise, considering what happened to the last four."
"Right, one's dead, one's sacked, one's had his memory removed, and the other was trapped in a trunk for the whole year? Can't imagine why he'd have trouble," Harry said, counting off on his fingers the fates of each of our former Defense professors. I giggled, but my eyes quickly fell on Ron, whose face had gone completely pale.
"You alright, Ron?" I asked gravely. His eyes were bugging out and his face wasn't looking any better. I thought he might keel over.
"What is it?" Fred asked, striding over to him and snatching the letter from his younger brother's hands. He scanned the piece of parchment until his eyes fell on the middle section. His brown eyes were now bugged out the same as Ron's.
"Prefect?" he asked incredulously. "PREFECT?!"
Ron's face was still pale. George rushed over and grabbed the letter from Fred, scanning it in disbelief.
"No way," George said with a laugh. "There's been a mistake."
"No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect," Fred said breathlessly. I groaned at their cruelty, ready to tell them off.
"Seriously, you two? That's all you have to say? Your brother's just become a prefect and you're acting like it's the worst thing that's ever happened to you!"
"We're not!" Fred said, miffed at the accusation. "It's just-"
"We thought for sure Dumbledore would pick you, Harry!" George answered, shooting Harry a smile. Harry, on the other hand, looked crestfallen. I'm sure he thought Dumbledore would pick him too.
I shook my head quickly, giving Ron a big smile. In his hand was a red and gold prefect badge that he held onto tightly, the same way he held chess pieces.
"Ron, I think it's brilliant," I said, walking over to give him a quick hug, which he awkwardly returned. "It's like the cards said, remember? You're about to become a leader. You ready for it?"
His cheeks and ears turned a magnificent shade of pink.
"Yeah, er, I guess so," he mumbled, trying his best to hide the grin that was desperately trying to overtake his face. After a beat, the bedroom door burst open and Hermione entered, her curly hair flying across her ebony face. Her eyes weren't on Ron, but on Harry.
"Did you – did-"
She spotted the badge in Harry's hand and clapped her hands excitedly.
"I knew it" she cried happily. "Me too, Harry, me too!"
"It's Ron, not me," Harry said bluntly. Hermione's eyes widened and her smile faded.
"What?"
"Ron's prefect, not me," Harry said.
Her jaw dropped, her eyes darting form Harry to Ron and back to Harry.
"Are you sure? I mean —"
"My name's on the letter," Ron said defiantly, clearly fed up with the cynicism within his family and friend group. "So, yeah. I'm sure."
"I . . . well . . . wow!" she said quickly, trying to mask her surprise and disappointment that it wasn't Harry. "Well done, Ron! That's really —"
Before anybody could say anything else to or about Ron's news, Mrs. Weasley strode into the room, her arms full of freshly laundered robes, pajamas, and dressing gowns.
"Ginny's told me the booklists have finally arrived," she said brightly. "If you all give them to me, I can go to Diagon Alley and pick up what you need while you pack. Ron, I'll need to get you some new pajamas, yours are about six inches too short…what color would you like, dear?"
"Get him red and gold!" George butted in.
"Yeah, to match his new badge," Fred cooed, making faces at his brother. I poked him in the ribs, hard, but he kept on snickering.
"Match his what?" Mrs. Weasley asked absentmindedly, folding a pair of maroon socks and placing them on a pile of clothes.
"His prefect's badge," George clarified with an eye roll. "His lovely shiny new prefect badge."
"His-but Ron's not a prefect," Mrs. Weasley said, looking up just in time to see Ron holding up his badge to show her. Her face changed from shocked to confused to ecstatic in a matter of seconds.
"I don't believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful!" she said excitedly, rushing over to fling her arms around Ron's neck. "A prefect! That's everyone in the family!"
"What are we, next-door neighbors?" said Fred and George in unison, making faces as their mother showered Ron's now-scarlet face with kisses
"Wait until your father hears! Ron, I'm so proud of you, what wonderful news, you could end up Head Boy just like Bill and Percy, it's the first step! Oh, what a thing to happen in the middle of all this worry…"
As Mrs. Weasley rushed Ron out of the room, asking him what kind of present she and Mr. Weasley could get him as a congratulatory gift, Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, and I all stood around awkwardly. Harry looked a little upset, and I could tell there was certainly something on his mind – jealousy or just sadness that his friends were chosen to do something that he couldn't be part of.
"You helping me pack or what?" I heard Fred ask behind me. "I want as much time with you as possible before tomorrow."
"I'll be escorting you all to the platform before I go to work, you'll have plenty of time to see me," I countered with a wink. "I'll meet you up there."
"Er, Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively. "Do you mind if I borrow Hedwig? I want to write to Mum and Dad and tell them the news. They won't understand what being Prefect means, but-"
"Oh, er, take her!" Harry exclaimed, trying to sound enthusiastic and failing miserably. She nodded, then hurried from the room, leaving Harry and I alone. He turned away from me and started grabbing piles of clothes and absentmindedly throwing them into his trunk.
"You okay, Harry?" I asked tentatively. He looked up, then looked back down at his trunk.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he muttered. "Really happy for them."
I smiled at him, a smile that said 'I can see right through you.'
"It's okay if you're disappointed," I said, sitting down on the bed across from him. "I remember I was disappointed when I didn't get chosen to be prefect and my friends got picked. I remember when I saw Cedric get on the train with his badge. I was so jealous, and sad that I didn't get to ride in the prefect's carriage or make rounds late at night."
I went quiet after I realized what I'd just admitted. I think that was the first time I'd talked about Cedric without breaking down crying. Harry looked up at me, his eyes wide again.
"I just…I dunno, maybe it makes me as arrogant as your brother for feeling like I should've been picked."
I leaned forward on the bed as I doubled over laughing, ignoring the look of concern that was now on Harry's face.
"Harry Potter, there's no way you could ever be as arrogant as my brother!" I exclaimed through my laughter. "In fact, I think it's impossible for anyone to be as arrogant as my brother! He's some kind anomaly with a head that big, I swear to you. Believe me, just because you're disappointed doesn't mean you've got a big head. Just means your human, that's all."
He smiled gratefully, sitting down next to me tentatively.
"Does it make me a bad friend for being as surprised as everyone that Ron got picked?" he asked me. I shook my head.
"I don't think so, but I think it would mean a lot to him if you said congratulations to him," I said simply. "I know Fred and George like to screw around with him, but I bet it hurt that everyone reacted that way when they found out."
"I'll say something to him," he said finally, his hair flopping as he nodded. "I will. He'd do the same for me."
"I know he would," I replied, clapping him on the shoulder before I stood up and left the room. As I wandered down the stairs, I heard a faint pop! next to me, Fred's arm snaking around my waist as soon as he materialized after Apparating.
"What happened to helping me pack, eh, Malfoy?" he asked, feigning disappointment.
"Weasley, you and I have very different definitions of 'helping me pack,'" I said jokingly. "You'd probably just want me to do it for you while you and George finalized your list of products to test."
"Hey, that's important work!" he joked, poking me in the ribs this time. "Besides, George isn't even up in our room right now. Figured we might snog, then pack some, then snog some more?"
I rolled my eyes. Despite my protests, I would miss the quiet moments we could steal together in the house. They came few and far between, and we savored them at every turn. Since tonight was our last night together for the foreseeable future, we really had to savor them.
"Oh, alright," I huffed. "For every five minutes of packing that you do, you'll get a full five minutes of snogging."
"Only five? Merlin, Malfoy-"
"Don't push it, Weasley," I said with a grin, kissing him on the mouth and letting him chase me back up the stairs to the third- floor bedroom.
Mrs. Weasley returned form Diagon Alley around six, her arms full of parcels, bags, and a long box that appeared to be the racing broom Ron had asked for as a gift. As we all wandered down to the kitchen, we noticed that the room had been completely decorated with ribbons, balloons, and a scarlet banner that read "CONGRATULATIONS RON AND HERMIONE – NEW PREFECTS."
"I thought we might have a little party instead of a sit-down dinner," Mrs. Weasley said brightly. "Arthur and Bill are on the way – they've so proud of you, Ron – and everyone else should be arriving soon."
After a few minutes of milling about and pouring butterbeer and firewhiskey, Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, Sirius, and Remus all filed into the room, admiring Mrs. Weasley's handiwork.
"Alastor, I'm glad you're here," Mrs. Weasley said. "We've been wanting to ask you to check on the writing desk, I think there might be a boggart or ghoul or something in there…"
"I tried getting rid of that bloody boggart when I moved in," I interjected. "Remus and I both couldn't get rid of it."
The pupil of Moody's magical eye contracted rapidly.
"Yeah, I see it," he muttered. "It's a boggart alright. Want me to get rid of it now, Mols?"
"No, no, you have your drink and relax, we're having a celebration now!" she exclaimed, wandering over to greet Mr. Weasley and Bill and hand them each a drink. Once everyone had a goblet in their hands, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and raised his in the air.
"A toast," he said loudly, raising his goblet toward his son and Hermione. "To Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!"
Everyone hollered and clapped as they took their drinks. Ron and Hermione beamed with pride.
"I was never a prefect myself," said Tonks from behind me, her long red hair hitting me as she walked. "My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities."
"Like what?" said Ginny. Tonks grinned.
"Like the ability to behave myself."
I laughed out loud.
"Funny, cousin," I mused. "That's what my head of house said, too."
She threw her head back laughing, and for a while we chatted over baked potatoes and firewhiskey about the goings-on at the Ministry and how her parents were doing. It was mad to think that this time last year, I was getting ready to leave Andromeda and Ted's house for my seventh year, how I had no idea what awaited me when I stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. One this night last year, Tonks and I was drinking and listening to David Bowie in the yard. Another thing that felt like a lifetime ago.
Across the room, Remus, Sirius, and Arthur were also talking about the goings-on at the Ministry, the new anti-werewolf legislation that prevented Remus from getting a job or even participating in society safely, and Fred and George were talking in hushed tones with Mundungus, who was exchanging coins and vials of something with them.
I became entranced while looking Fred up and down as he ran his hands through his hair, his fingers wrapped around the ginger strands. I remembered the party in Gryffindor Tower, when I saw him do that for the first time, how my stomach flipped a million times over. Almost a year later, the sight of him still made my stomach and heart do cartwheels. My heart swelled and sank at the thought of him being gone not twenty-four hours from now, but I pushed the thought form my mind. Tonight, we celebrate.
Things started to quiet down around nine. Moody was showing Harry old photos of the original Order, Ginny was resting her head on Bill's shoulder, and Mrs. Weasley was preparing to head upstairs and deal with the boggart. I was listening to Remus and Sirius tell more stories of their school days with Fred, our arms laced around one another, him holding onto my waist as I leaned against him. After a while, I spun out of his grasp and headed for the stairs to grab a jumper, as it had suddenly gotten chilly in the kitchen.
Before I could step onto the stairs, I heard someone crying out from the drawing room. I turned and opened the door as fast as I could, and I nearly collapsed at the sight.
Mrs. Weasley was in a heap on the floor, sobbing over George's cold, bloated corpse. But I'd just seen George…
"RI-RIDDIUKULUS!" she sobbed, but the boggart wouldn't turn into something funny. Instead, it turned into Ron's blue, waterlogged body, which made her cry out more. Then it was Bill, scarred and bloody. Then Ginny, her throat slashed, then Harry, his eyes wide and glassy, which made her sob the hardest. I raised my wand to try and help her out.
"RIDDIKULUS!" I bellowed as the boggart turned. Mrs. Weasley whipped around to see me there, her eyes still wide. When she turned back, she cried out again, her cries now mingling with mine, as the boggart was now the same bloody, blue corpse of Fred walking toward me.
"Cassie-"
"RIDDIKULUS!" I screamed through my tears. The boggart turned again.
Crack.
Then, the smell came back. Lake water and rotting flesh.
"You never learn, do you, Malfoy?" Cedric said, water spilling from his bleeding mouth. "You can't run from it forever. You're the reason I'm dead."
"RIDDIKULUS!"
"You're not okay. You're never going to be okay. You're the reason I'm gone," it kept saying over and over. It was true. I was reminded, once again, that no matter what I said or did, no matter how far I ran, I would always feel guilt over Cedric. Always.
"RIDDIKULUS!' Remus suddenly bellowed from behind me, pushing me out of the way. Suddenly, the body became a full moon, which vanished in a puff of smoke with a wave of his wand.
"Molly," said Remus rushing to Mrs. Weasley's side. She was now sobbing into his threadbare cardigan.
"I see them d-d-dead all the time!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it! You mustn't tell Arthur, I d-d-don't want him to know…I'm being silly…"
I wanted to reach out and give her a hug, but she probably wouldn't accept it.
"I'm just s-s-so worried," she said, tears spilling out of her eyes again. "Half the family's in the Order, it'll be a miracle if we all come through this! And now Freddie's gotten himself involved and Percy's not talking to us. . . . What if something happens and we had never made up? And what's going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who's going to look after Ron and Ginny?"
"Molly, that's enough," said Remus firmly. "This isn't like last time. The Order is better prepared, we've got a head start, we know what Voldemort's up to…"
His voice trailed off. He looked up at Sirius, who was now standing in the doorway awkwardly, and me, who was still shaken up from seeing the bodies of my dead friend and my boyfriend only moments ago. Remus gathered himself, then turned back to Mrs. Weasley.
"I can't promise no one's going to get hurt, nobody can promise that, but we're much better off than we were last time-"
"Don't worry about Percy," Sirius chimed in. "He'll come around."
"And as for who's going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died," said Remus with a small smile, "what do you think we'd do, let them starve?"
Mrs. Weasley laughed lightly, giving Remus a gratefully smile.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Just being silly…"
After a few minutes of composing herself, she got up and left the parlor, giving Sirius and I each a small, reluctant smile as well. I didn't mind – I'd take what I could get from her at this point. Remus and Sirius both turned to me.
"Are you alright, Cassie?" they both asked, their eyes full of worry.
"Yeah, I'm fine, why?" I asked, praying they'd forgotten what my boggart was.
"Don't think we didn't see the boggart," Remus said plainly, giving me a knowing look. "You can tell us if you're feeling badly about anything, you know that?"
I nodded. I really didn't want to talk about it right now, even though Sirius and Remus had made it clear that they were here for me no matter what. I just wanted to have one more night of peace with Fred before he left and I was alone again, starting work and resuming my grieving process. For one more night, I didn't want to grieve. I wanted to celebrate.
"I'm fine, you two," I said finally. "Really. I'm going to get my radio and listen to some music in the kitchen. Fancy a cup of tea?"
After another two hours or so, the three of us were still in the kitchen, one our third cups of tea and listening to whatever the radio came up with that late at night. It was a familiar scene; last time Remus, Sirius, and I did this, it was four in the morning and Sirius had just finished giving me a profound speech on the nature of grief. Little did I know, that speech would actually help me quite a bit.
"Remus, I'd like to find out who's making all these anti-werewolf laws and give them a good-"
"Easy there," Sirius said. "But yes, Remus, I'd like to do the same thing."
"And the Wolfsbane Potion, while effective, is damn difficult to brew and even more difficult to purchase the ingredients. I should know – I learned how to brew it when I was sixteen."
"Yes, you never did explain how you learned that particular potion," Remus said, leaning back in his chair. I smiled sheepishly at him.
"Remember when you taught at Hogwarts? When Snape would bring it to you before each cycle?" I asked. "The contents of that goblet were brewed by yours truly."
Both sets of eyebrows shot up, impressed.
"Cassie, how-"
"Snape pulled me aside one day and told me that I was going to learn to brew it," I finished. "I didn't ask questions and he didn't give answers. I didn't even know you were a werewolf until after he blurted it out to the entire school and to the papers."
Remus smiled sadly.
"And to think I said Miss Granger was the brightest witch of her age," he mused. "You have talent, and you have compassion, Cassie. Both of which will get you rather far in life, I should think."
"Be that as it may, Remus, it's beside the point," I said, remembering what I wanted to say about werewolves. "If I were Minister for Magic, I'd want to improve wizard and werewolf relations and make the Wolfsbane potion far more affordable – Merlin, even free of charge – to those who needed it. But what do I know? I'm just an emotionally disturbed child, according to Fudge."
The two men laughed aloud, letting the silence fill the room again. After several minutes of quietly sipping tea, they turned their attention to the radio. My ears perked up and I gasped with delight as the intro to "All the Young Dudes" began to play over the airwaves.
"Happy memories, Pads," Remus whispered. Sirius smiled, then shot up from his seat at the kitchen table. He extended his hand to Remus, which Remus took tentatively. The two men wrapped their arms around one another and swayed together next to their seats, vocalizing along with the twangy electric guitar intro.
As I watched them dance and remembered the last time I danced to this particular tune, Fred happened to wander into the kitchen, stopping in his tracks when he heard the song.
"What are you-" he began to ask, but I stood up and stopped him, extending my hand to him.
"They're playing our song."
He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it promptly, taking my hand and pulling me close as we, too, began to sway. Ever so quietly, I heard him sing the words 'And Cassie's stealing clothes from Marks and Sparks/and Freddie's got spots from ripping off the stars from his face,' just as we'd promised we would when we danced in the Astronomy Tower on Christmas night.
It took me a minute to reckon with the fact that the last time we danced to this song felt like a lifetime ago, like a lifetime lived by another boy and girl, not a boy and girl who were living through a way and were grasping at straws to find peace in unlikely places. None of it felt real; none of it except him.
"I can't believe you'll be gone in the morning," I whispered into his chest.
"Yeah, well, we can write letters and you can come up during Hogsmeade weekends, if Moody'll let you, and I'll see you at Christmas," he said softly, his fingers getting lost in the black and blonde waves of my hair. "Everything's going to be okay, Malfoy."
I nodded, pressing my face into his neck and inhaling, wanting to remember the feel of his jumper, the color of his hair, the freckles on his face, and the scent of tobacco and freshly mowed grass in this moment, because I wasn't sure when I'd get the chance again.
We didn't speak much for the rest of the song, and even into the next one ("Heaven or Las Vegas" by Cocteau Twins). Where words failed, my head on his chest, his lips on the top of my head, just like in the potions classroom last fall, spoke loudly and clearly and from the heart, and for that I was eternally grateful.
"CASS! Wake up, we've got to go! It's your first day!"
My eyes fluttered open to see Tonks standing over me, her hair long and gray and her skin wrinkled. I shot up at the sight.
"Merlin's beard, Tonks! I thought you were my Grandmother Malfoy!" I exclaimed, rubbing my eyes rapidly. "What time is it?"
"Almost ten," she said, checking her watch. "Everyone's hustling and bustling about, and you're needed downstairs to help get things organized. Your boyfriend bewitched his trunk and nearly took Moody's head off, so I'd start with smoothing things over there."
I groaned, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and darting over to my wardrobe, swinging it open. In a flash, I changed into my robes for Mulpepper's Apothecary – a deep purple suit with gold lining, a purple brocade cape, and a pair of steel-toed boots that were enchanted to feel like I was walking on pillows. I arranged my hair in the standard half-up, half-down style, but pulled it back with a large black clip, letting the black and blonde intermingle wildly.
"Oh, one more thing!" Tonks exclaimed, rushing back into the room. "If you're coming with us, you can't look like you. Colovaria."
And with a wave of her wand, my black and blonde hair was now bright red.
As I rushed out of the room with my bag and cape, I ran into a large black dog on the stairs, who sat patiently in front of me with a smile. I shook my head.
"You know what Dumbledore said," I whispered to Sirius, who was having none of it. He remained convinced that, if he was in his Animagus form, he could still take the chance and see Harry off to school. The rest of the Order? Not so much.
As I rushed down the stairs, everyone hooted and hollered as they saw me in my new robes for work. I blushed and beamed, but made a beeline for Moody, who would give me instructions on what was happening this morning.
"Malfoy, I take it you'll be joining the guard this morning before you leave for Diagon Alley?" he asked gruffly, shifting from foot to foot.
"Yeah, that's right," I asked, adjusting my cape nervously. "Is this everyone?"
"Not quite," he said. "We're still missing Sturgis. We might have to just go without him, I'm afraid. You, me, Tonks, and Remus will accompany this lot to King's Cross. We've got to leave straight away, as we're going on foot."
I groaned. The walk to King's Cross Station wasn't terribly far from here, but in the September warmth, it would probably be unpleasant. I searched the foyer of the house for Fred, but he Apparated right up to my side, scaring the living daylights out of me.
"You know, I really won't miss that, Weasley!" I snapped, hitting him on the chest playfully. He grinned, taking my hand.
"Alright, is everyone here? Everyone ready?" Mrs. Weasley called out, giving a hurried smile to her children. "Good! Let's go."
Before she could get out the door, the large, black dog barreled out the door, whipping around to give us all a smile. I burst out laughing, but Mrs. Weasley was not amused.
"On your own head be it, Sirius!" she hissed, trying to not draw attention to our group. Sirius, in his dog form, turned around and trotted down the sidewalk to where Tonks stood. She reached out for my other hand and grasped it firmly.
"We ready?" she asked brightly.
We nodded, then took off across the street for the walk to King's Cross.
We reached the station in about twenty minutes. Moody met us all on Platform 9 ¾, disguised as a porter and weaving through the crowds with a large luggage cart of full of everyone's trunks. One by one, everyone took their belongings after they crossed over from the Muggle platform. Fred and I were still laughing from tripping over our own feet as we sprinted through the wall, but the laughter dissipated as we realized that it was nearly time to say goodbye. I gave hugs to George, Ginny, and Hermione, and two very awkward half-hugs to Harry and Ron.
"You write to me if you need to talk, you hear me, Potter?" I said jokingly to Harry. He gave me a thin smile but nodded. I hoped he would.
"Look after yourselves," Remus said, shaking hands all around and giving Harry a quick hug.
"It was lovely meeting you all," Tonks said, giving the girls hugs. "We'll see you all soon, I expect!"
"Alright, time for you all to go! You'll miss the train!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, giving her children hugs and kisses all around. After she gave Fred his, he turned to me, his eyes wide and glassy.
"This is it?" he asked, taking a breath.
I nodded. "Seems that way."
I didn't know what else to say, so I said nothing. Instead, I reached forward and kissed him on the mouth, grabbing a fistful of his jumper as I did so. His arms snaked around my waist and caught in the belt loops on my pants, clearly unwilling to let go of me. The train horn blasted through the station, the final signal that it was time to go.
He tucked a strand of my bright red hair behind my ear and kissed the side of my nose, lips wet from the tears that were falling down my cheeks.
"I'll write every week, I swear, and I'll let you know about all the Hogsmeade weekends, I promise!"
"You'd better!" I exclaimed, wiping my eyes. "Now go! You'll miss the bloody train!"
He grinned, then turned on his heel and ran for the doors where George and Lee Jordan were waiting. After a few minutes, the two ginger head and one dreadlocked head popped out of the windows of a compartment. As the train began to depart and students began waving goodbye, I saw Fred cup his hands around his mouth, making eye contact with me.
"LOVE YOU!" he bellowed across the platform.
I laughed and laughed, waving wildly at him as the Hogwarts Express disappeared from view, taking my heart with it.