Mauerbauertraurigkeit: (n.) The inexplicable urge to push people away, even those you really like

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Mauerbauertraurigkeit

"So you've seen him then?" Fred asked her eagerly the next morning as they lounged in the drawing room.

Ankaa was lying on the floor next to Ginny, making bright blue butterflies flutter above them (a spell she had learned from her new book). Ginny, who was extremely excited by the fact that someone other than Fred and George was able to do magic in the house, was reaching for them and watching them settle on her fingers.

"Yeah," Ankaa got up and rested on her elbows. She gave him a side long glance, debating whether she should even entertain his questions. In the few days she had been at Grimmauld Place, she had found that talking to Fred only spurred him to action. And once he started, it was impossible to make him stop.

"What does he look like?" George, who was hanging upside down off the couch, reached his hands over to her.

Taking his hands, Ankaa pulled herself over to where he was, and sat on the ground beside him. George rested his head on her shoulder, still hanging upside down off the couch. It was odd to be taking about Voldemort so leisurely, while they all lounged around when he had destroyed her entire life.

"Ugly," Ankaa answered candidly. "I've seen what he looks like both times—a before and after, almost."

"When did you see him before?" Ginny asked, looking away from the butterflies who were now flying circles around her head.

"Last year, when I went back to 1981 with the Time-Turner." Ankaa hit George's head lightly when he kept moving, digging his head into her shoulder.

"I'm trying to get comfortable!" George cried, rubbing the sore spot lightly. Fred snickered at his twin before turning back to stuffing as many small scrunched up pieces of parchment he could into Ron's open mouth as he slept.

"That's illegal, isn't it?" Ginny wondered, looking over at the older girl. She didn't seem surprised in the least.

"Guess it's a good thing you've got the twins for brothers. I'm sure you've had your fair share of illegal things with these two."

Ginny laughed.

"But seriously," Ankaa continued after a moment, "He was human before. I mean, he was obviously very unnerving, but human nonetheless. But now… Now, he's… terrifying."

An intimidating silence followed, and Ankaa searched for ways to change the topic. Thinking about Voldemort brought back memories of Ceph's death. It seemed like the memories would still be fresh even if a long time passed. Ankaa did not want to start crying with the twins around.

Lucky for her, she didn't have to. Zeus came soaring through the window, elegantly perching himself on the side of the chair Ankaa was sitting in front of. Ankaa ignored George's complaints when she moved away from him to grab the few letters Zeus was carrying. He had probably brought them from home because they were from three different people.

"Who's writing to you?" Fred asked, looking away from Ron's almost full mouth.

"I have other friends if that's what you're insinuating." came Ankaa's smarmy retort. Rearranging the letters as she sat back, Ankaa sighed once more when George moved his head yet again to place on her shoulder.

Dear Hippogriff Hater,

Thanks for writing back. I was quite surprised when your letter came. As sad as this may sound, I'm glad neither of us knows what's happening. Your 'holier than thou' attitude is really unbearable at times but hopefully, this year will be better.

"You're smiling," Fred observed, frowning, "What's so funny?"

"It's a letter from a friend, Fred," Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother, "Friends have inside jokes."

Ankaa and Ginny shared a look before she turned back to her letter.

I've actually been subscribed to the Daily Prophet, but again, nothing's come up. I figure it's much more useful to spend all that money elsewhere. Maybe some chocolate frogs. I'm open to suggestions.

I also hope you haven't bothered reading the letters I had sent. They're useless. I wrote the same thing over and over again. But maybe if you need something to throw at people, to give them papercuts, I'm sure you can use my letters. You're creative that way, in a violently destructive way.

Sincerely,

Glasses Galore

P.S: I don't owe you any owl treats, it's your fault for spoiling Hedwig. I thought you knew basic owl etiquette. Such a shame.

"Harry?" George had turned his head and was reading her letter. "Since when did you start writing to Harry?"

Ankaa folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope before using it to hit George's head. "None of your business, is it?"

George sniggered before turning to her. "Who are the other letters from?"

"That, my dear George, is also none of your business."

"I'm starting to notice a pattern here," George sighed dramatically, bringing one hand to his forehead and closing his eyes in despair. "Oh how quickly she moves on."

"I wish," Ankaa muttered quietly. George caught it, however, and gave her a small smile, bringing his hand to rest on her head.

"Open the next one," George smiled.

"Why?" Ankaa retorted, "So you can read it too?"

George just gave her a wide smile and nodded innocently. Ankaa rolled her eyes before pushing his head away. George got up and made his way over to Fred, helping him draw on Ron's face. While they were both distracted, Ankaa quickly opened Blaise's envelope.

Oi,

I visited your house this weekend, but one of your house-elves told me you were away with your mum somewhere. A little hurt that you didn't tell me, but whatever. Also, I know you probably haven't opened any of my other letters (Merlin only knows if you'll ever open this one), but I hope you open this one because I've got a foolproof plan to get FooFoo (his codename, by the way) to notice you.

From now on, I want you to make him jealous. And I don't mean a little bit of 'Oh, I'm losing my friend' jealous, but more of a 'I had a jewel in my pocket and I lost it' sort of jealous. So, for starters, whenever you get a letter around him, I want you to smile as if you're reading the funniest thing in the world. And when he asks you who it is, I want you to act coy and say 'no one'. I think that should work for now. We'll move on to Phase 2 when we get back to Hogwarts.

Toodles!

"She's smiling again," Fred muttered, "Do you smile this much when George and I write to you?"

"When George writes, yes," Ankaa teased, "But when you do it, I'm almost constantly frowning." Fred rolled his eyes, giving her a sarcastic smile. "And if you must know, it's Blaise. There are other people on the planet that are funnier than you, you know?"

Fred and George snorted.

"That's likely," They muttered, shooting each other identical disbelieving glances.

Ankaa folded away Blaise's letter, placing it back in the envelope. He had suggested she burn it, like the overly dramatic fool he was, but she knew no one would read her letters. Ankaa kept the rest of her letters, knowing that Fred would undoubtedly ask more questions if she opened them.

"Alright," Ankaa stood up. "Let's get to our lessons, shall we?"

Fred stood, stretching his arms over his head as he nodded. The three went to exit the room before Ankaa pulled them back. With a wave of her wand, the blue butterflies that were braiding Ginny's hair rushed towards a sleeping Ronald, bombarding his face. Ronald jolted awake, choking on the pieces of parchment in his mouth.

Fred and George howled in laughter as their younger brother flopped down from the couch and crashed onto the floor, coughing up the little balls of parchment and then face planting onto them.

"I'm dying!" Ronald shouted, while the other four just laughed louder. "It's not funny!" Ronald picked up a cushion from the couch and launched it towards the laughing group.

Ankaa dodged it easily, leading the way out of the drawing room as Sirius tried to hush up his crazy mother's portrait.

"Can we take a break?"

"No."

"We've been at it for three hours!"

"And I said no break. Get up."

"Mbbrh."

"Fred! Get up!" Ankaa punched his shoulder repeatedly, and the boy just swatted her away before turning in his bed and facing away from her. Ankaa looked to George, who was already asleep, sitting against the wall next to his bed, his head lolling to the side and the notes about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes scattered over his lap.

"This is such a role reversal," Ankaa muttered, taking a seat at the edge of Fred's bed. When he noticed she wasn't hitting him anymore, Fred turned back to her and propped himself so he was sitting next to her. "I should just get Remus to teach me."

Fred nudged her lightly with his shoulder, giving her a small smile. "We've still got time," Fred told her, "You'll get it soon enough."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Ankaa sassed, "It's your ability to teach that has me concerned."

Fred gave her an exaggerated frown. "Well, we're still getting used to it. Never thought we'd have to teach anyone."

"Shouldn't have volunteered then."

Fred just shrugged, "We thought it'd be nice to get to spend some time with you… especially since you had been ignoring us since… well… you know."

Ankaa nodded slowly. Looking at Fred, who seemed to be trying to avoid the conversation topic as much as possible, she gave him a small smile. "You can say his name, Fred. I won't break down in tears."

Fred laughed quietly. "I'm just being careful. George said you'd be a bit… touchy about it."

"He's good with these things." Ankaa gave a small, fond smile in George's direction. "But so are you."

Fred seemed surprised. His eyes widened marginally, and he raised his eyebrow slightly, waiting for her to continue. She gave him a smile.

"That night, where you gave me that Muggle chocolate in the kitchens," She reminded him, "You told me that trauma has a way of sneaking up on people. You said that I'd think I was over it, and then one day I'll be reminded of it all over again and it'll be like the first day all over again."

He remembered that night. He hadn't known what had bothered her so much, but from what he had noticed, she needed help. Fred knew he wasn't any good at consoling people. He hadn't known how to help her then, and he still wasn't sure about what to do now.

"George said that," Fred whispered after a moment. "He's the one that tells me all this stuff. I just… pass it on."

"Which is just as important." Ankaa got up, "I'll let you sleep too. I know you two have been up late, working on your shop."

Fred grabbed her hand before she could leave. Standing up so he stood in front of her, he noticed she had grown slightly taller, and her hair was longer. Looking down at her, he said, "He would be proud of you. What you're doing… it's really brave. You'd make Ceph proud."

"Thanks, Fred."

"Anytime, love."

Dear Glasses Galore,

You don't need to lie to me. I know my 'holier than thou' attitude is what gives you life. Face it, if you didn't have someone to challenge you at every step of the way, you'd grow quite tired. We both know what lethargy does to the brain… especially a brain like yours that has about three brain cells.

I'm glad you're saving your money from the Prophet. I'm not sure it can get you much, but Hermione had told me something about you living with those awful Muggles. Maybe you can throw some at them every time they're being irritating? Especially at your cousin, Dumbley? An odd name, isn't it? Why would they torture their child that way? Then again, I'm apparently named the Hippogriff Hater—I have no room to talk.

I must admit, your idea about throwing those letters around as weapons of mass destruction was wonderful. I didn't expect it from you. I thought you'd suggest that I recycle them or something along those lines. I'm glad my influence is paying off on you. Funnily enough, the need to use the letters hasn't come up yet. And also, I'm having a bit of trouble throwing them with enough accuracy to injure. Seeing as you most likely have experience with this, maybe you'd like to teach me?

Sincerely,

Parchment Police

Ankaa sealed the letter in the envelope before passing it to Zeus a few days later. She had thought it would be best if she sent the letters back one by one. That way, Zeus would have enough time to rest and she would have enough time to think of a witty response to Blaise's stupid letter.

When she walked downstairs, she was met by Mrs. Weasley shouting at the twins once more. They had decided to Apparate from one side of the room to the other. Maya was sitting on the couch, curled up against Sirius' side. Ankaa sat on the couch opposite them, folding her legs underneath her and opening her mother's diary about being a Seer.

Eventually, Mrs. Weasley got tired of yelling at the twins, realizing her words went into one ear and out the next. The twins decided to go upstairs and work on some new concoctions for their Joke Shop.

Ankaa tried to read her mother's diary, she really did. But she was constantly distracted by Sirius and Maya whispering things to each other, occasionally sniggering and sighing. When she read the same line for the tenth time, she gave up.

"You two have a room, don't you?" Ankaa snapped the book shut.

"So do you," Sirius retorted, tightening his arm around Maya's shoulders.

"It's only natural," Maya smiled, "When you find someone you like, you'll understand." Ankaa looked away from her mother, quickly opening her diary once more. She hoped her mother wouldn't remember Ceph's little hint from before the Third Task. Unfortunately for Ankaa, her mother was sharper than the average bunch.

"Unless…" she glanced towards the door, "You've already got someone?"

Ankaa just held the book higher, covering her face when Sirius perked up. He wasn't as happy as her mother though, and he was frowning in her direction.

"Who is it?" He asked. When she didn't answer, Sirius reached for her book and pushed it down into her lap. Ankaa just gave him a glare and pulled it back over her face. Sirius repeated his actions, and Ankaa repeated hers.

"Leave her alone," Maya laughed, pulling Sirius back. "She's a shy, young girl—"

"—too young—"

"—who's finally tolerated someone enough to like them."

"I'll have you know," Ankaa snapped, "I tolerate a lot of people, it's nothing out of the ordinary. And as for whom I like, it's really none of your business."

"We're your parents, so—" Sirius began, but Ankaa stood up abruptly.

"You're not." She told him. Without a second glance, she walked away.

Sirius watched her go with an angry frown. He couldn't understand what he had done to deserve so much hatred from her. He knew she would have taken a little bit more time to come around, but every time he extended an olive branch, she snapped it in half and threw it at his face.

Sirius turned back to Maya when he felt her hand running over his back, gently rubbing it in soothing circles.

"I don't understand…"

"It's not your fault," Maya soothed, holding his hand as she ran her fingers over his cheek. "She took years to warm up to me. She'll understand, Sirius."

Sirius just shook his head. "Harry doesn't—"

"She's not Harry," Maya sighed. "You've got to stop seeing them like that. You see Harry and you expect him to be like James, and you see Ankaa and expect her to be like you. They're children, Sirius, and they each have their own personality."

"I don't do that." Sirius growled, glaring at her, "I know how to raise my own children—my child."

"Do you?" Maya challenged, glaring right back, "Because you haven't been there for fourteen years. I know it's not your fault, don't glare at me like that. But really, ever since you got back, have you asked her what her favorite color is? What food she likes to eat?"

"She doesn't want to talk to me!"

"Because you're talking to her like her father," Maya gave his hand a gentle squeeze, "Put yourself in her shoes, Sirius. She's been living with Henry for the past fourteen years and then all of a sudden you show up and she finds out you're her father. She's just naturally supposed to fall into the role of being your daughter?"

"What do I do then?"

"Become her friend," Maya suggested, "You've got to slowly integrate yourself into her life. Become her friend, and then her father."

"You know," Remus spoke from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, "Out of context, that last sentence would sound really odd."

"You're being stupid," Ankaa told Fred, shovelling a forkful of noodles into her mouth during lunch. Fred, who sat on her other side, gave her an incredulous look.

"It's not stupid!" Fred cried indignantly, "It's a serious topic."

"Cereal is not considered a soup, Fred."

"It makes sense though, doesn't it!" Fred turned to Ginny and George, who were both not interested in the conversation.

George shrugged, "Sort of. I mean, it's a meal… that's in liquid formation."

"But cereal is its own class of food," Ginny pointed out nonchalantly, turning another page in the book she had been reading while sipping her tea. "This is the whole ordeal where you know a tomato is considered a fruit, but you don't put it in a fruit salad. You wouldn't really treat cereal the same way."

"Why not?" Ronald asked, "Fred's right, it's basically a soup. What makes soup soup anyway?"

"The fact that there's vegetables and meat."

"And it's made from stock," Ankaa pointed out. "Last I checked, cereal wasn't made out of stock."

"Okay…" Fred conceded, pursing his lips. "Maybe it's a broth then?"

"This is the most intellectually riveting conversation I've eavesdropped on," Remus muttered from his spot next to Maya, who was looking between the kids incredulously.

"Were we ever like this?"

"Most likely," Remus chuckled, "Remember that time you and Sirius argued about whether dark chocolate was even considered chocolate?"

"Ah," Maya smiled as she recalled the memories. She then turned back to Ankaa and Fred, who were still arguing heatedly about how broths and soups were fundamentally different things, and even if they were similar, cereal most definitely would not count as a soup.

"They remind me of you and Sirius," Remus commented casually, leaning back in his chair. "Do you think…"

"Yes," Maya smiled over at him, "They will. They're perfect together, I think."

"THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!" Ron boomed, "You can't cook it in milk!"

"How would you know?" Ankaa shot back, glaring at him, "You've never cooked a thing in your life!"

Ronald straightened up in realization. He glared at Ankaa for a moment before turning his head and shouting:

"MOM!"

Remus stood with a laugh, "Alright, that's enough. Ankaa, we've got to practice."

Ankaa stood with a stretch, "Finally, a real teacher."

Fred and George frowned at her, but Ankaa paid them no mind. She walked past Ronald, smacking his head in the process. Remus led her into the drawing room, where he had moved the couches to the side of the room.

They tried for hours. Remus told her the specifics and little tips and tricks that he had used when he was learning. Ankaa was surprised Fred and George hadn't come back to distract her, but she supposed they were busy working on their Skiving Snackbox goodies.

"Now," Remus placed a hoop a few feet away from her, "Concentrate and clearly think of where you want to go. When you're ready, turn slightly on the spot. Remember, keep your destination clear in your mind."

Remus stepped away from the hoop, watching intently. Ankaa closed her eyes, and her brows furrowed in concentration. Finally, after a moment, she turned on her heel and Apparated into the hoop.

"Good!" Remus squeezed her shoulder. "Apart from a bit of your hair, everything made it into the hoop." He pointed to a few locks of her curly hair that were now on the carpet. Ankaa pulled her hair in front of her, taking note of how there were some jagged ends.

"I needed a haircut anyway," She mumbled, throwing her hair back and tying it into a bun at the top of her head.

Remus smiled. "Now, let's practice again, shall we?" He moved the hoop further away. "Let's see if you can still keep up at a distance. Try to get all of yourself into the hoop."

"Of course, Professor."

When it was evening, Remus finally decided they had worked hard enough. Ankaa was now able to easily Apparate throughout the house. Remus had hypothesized that it would only be a matter of weeks before she could Apparate without any trouble.

After dinner, Ankaa made her way up the stairs and to Fred and George's room with her mother's diary in her hands. She knocked on the door, and when they told her to come in, she made her way over to George's bed and sat down. The twins were settled on the floor, pouring over a cauldron as they mixed new ingredients together.

"What's this for?"

"Puking Pastilles," George answered offhandedly, tossing in some more ingredients as Fred stirred the cauldron.

Laying on his bed, Ankaa leafed through the diary in silence as the twins worked. She could hear them murmuring softly to one another, discussing ideas. She pulled out the envelopes she had stuffed into the diary, intending to reply to the letters Draco and Blaise had sent her. So, while the twins worked, Ankaa propped herself on George's bed and started writing.

Blaise,

I can't believe you've named him FooFoo, because that's not obvious at all. Your ideas seem great in theory, but let me just remind you that you've based this on the assumption that FooFoo will be interested in me enough to look at me every time I get a letter. So really, we're already failing. That being said, I'm too terrified to ask you what Phase 2 of your plan is. So, while we're safe, let's just abandon this.

Toodloo!

When she reached for Draco's letter, Fred and George decided to take a break. They wandered downstairs to grab some food, as quietly as possible seeing that everyone else had already gone to sleep.

"Want anything?"

Ankaa shook her head at Fred before ripping open the letter from Draco.

Ankaa,

I don't know where it is you've gone off to, but will you at least have the decency to write back to me? I'm not going to talk about what I wrote to you in the last few letters, seeing as you have to read them yourself (and I'm not wasting this imported ink on you). I wanted to remind you that you'll be a part of the Quidditch team this year, so make sure you get some practice in wherever you are. I don't want to have a Chaser who can't score. You need to be the fastest and most cutthroat Chaser, got it?

Draco

Ankaa rolled her eyes with a small, fond smile before putting the letter back. Ankaa played around with some of the new spells she remembered from Ceph's book, zoning in and out of conversations with Fred and George.

"Oi," Fred threw his pillow at her, hitting her on the side of her face. Ankaa sat up on her elbows and turned her head to narrow her eyes at him. "You looked like you were falling asleep."

"And if I was, you think the best way to wake me up is to throw a pillow at my head?"

Fred just sniggered, giving her a cheeky wink.

Ankaa rolled her eyes and lay back down, staring at the ceiling. She had been trying to drown herself in work as much as she possibly could, trying to keep herself occupied every waking moment so she didn't have to think about Ceph. But now, she had finished reading the book he had given her and perfected almost every spell from it. She ran her fingers over the silver chain of the locket around her neck.

"Hey," George got off the floor and sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at Ankaa. Giving her a small smile, he asked, "Are you feeling alright?"

Ankaa took a deep breath, tightening her fingers on the silver chain. She looked back at George, who was waiting patiently for her answer, looking concerned.

"It's been a month." She whispered.

George's eyes widened a fraction. He had figured out what she was talking about. Fred, on the other hand, hadn't pieced it together. Looking between Ankaa and George, he got up and took a seat on the edge of George's bed as well.

"What's been a month?"

George gave him a look. Quietly, he informed his twin, "It's been a month since the Third Task, Fred. Today's the twenty-fourth."

Fred bit his lip and looked quickly to Ankaa, intending to apologize. But she didn't seem mad. In fact, she didn't look like she was listening to the brothers at all. Fred watched her cautiously as she got up, sitting still for a moment before she pushed herself off of George's bed.

"Where are you going?" George asked her as she made her way towards the door.

"To sleep." She told him, turning around to give them a smile.

Fred remained quiet, letting his brother do all the talking. George stared at her for a moment, but then let it slide. Fred knew that she wasn't going to sleep, and maybe George knew that too. But he knew that she probably wanted to be alone right now.

When the door closed behind her, Fred turned to George.

"Do you really think she's going to sleep?"

"No," George answered.

There was a second of silence before they both heard the stairs creaking slightly as she walked downstairs. The main door opened and closed quietly, and the twins heard a small pop as Ankaa Disapparated.

Fred was still awake hours after George had gone to bed. In that time, he had replied to every letter he had got from his friends. Lee had written about some ideas he had about the joke shop, and Angelina was excited about the coming school year seeing as she would most likely be their Quidditch captain.

Fred shot up in bed when he heard someone making their way up the stairs. Quickly, he got out of bed and opened the door to his room. Ankaa had already walked past his door, and she was about to reach for the knob on the door of the room she shared with Ginny when Fred grabbed her wrist.

"Where did you go?"

She didn't say anything. Fred noticed her hands were cold, and he tugged on her arm to get her to move away from the door so Ginny wouldn't wake up.

"Ankaa," He tilted his head so he could see her better, but her hair was covering her face, "Are you alright?"

He hesitantly reached for her face, moving her hair away so he could see her better. Ankaa did not look up from the ground as Fred moved her hair away and tucked it behind her ears. Gently, he lifted her face up. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the tear tracks that had formed on her cheeks.

"What—"

"I went to see him," Ankaa whispered, "... to his grave."

Fred carefully and gently wiped away the tears that had started to fall once again. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. He took her hand and slowly guided her down the stairs. As he led her into the drawing room, he noted it was almost like dealing with a little child who had just woken from a deep sleep.

Ankaa was in a state of shock, he guessed. And she followed behind him quietly, not once complaining about him manhandling her. He guided her over to the armchair he had noticed she liked a lot, and gently pushed her shoulders so she would sit down.

"Stay here," He told her. "I'll be right back."

Ankaa sat still, placing her hands between her knees to try to warm them up. It wasn't cold outside. If anything, the wind was humid and suffocating. But her hands were trembling slightly, and her fingers were cold to the touch. She reached up and quickly wiped at her cheeks, wanting to get rid of any trace that she had been crying.

"Here," Fred came back a few minutes later, offering her a cup of steaming liquid. "It's hot cocoa… Mum used to make it for us if we were ever upset."

"I didn't think you knew how to cook," Ankaa mumbled, bringing the hot cocoa to her lips carefully.

"I've watched Mum," Fred grinned softly, "I know some trade secrets." Fred let her take a few sips, at least until it seemed like she had calmed down.

"He would have been so happy here," Ankaa admitted after a while. "All these… family dinners, spending time with Remus and Sirius. Every time I sit down to eat, I save the spot next to me for him, thinking he'll come downstairs and join us."

Fred surveyed her over his own cup of hot cocoa. He had thought everything had been going well with her, that she was finally back to being the sassy, confident girl he was used to.

"And I can't stop thinking about him," Ankaa uttered softly. "I keep seeing it over and over again, the moment where that Death Eater killed him. And every time, I think it's a vision, that he's still alive and that I can save him."

Fred reached for her hand. He didn't say anything to her, he knew it wasn't his forte. Instead, he smiled softly at her when she looked over at him. He couldn't imagine how cruel it must be, to watch a sibling die over and over again in front of him. Especially in her case, where she thought it was a vision each time.

"Let's go get some sleep, yeah?" Fred offered his other hand as he stood up. "It'll be good for you."

"I can't." Ankaa resisted when he tried to pull her out of the room.

"You can't do what?"

"… Sleep. I can't sleep, Fred. I'm all out of Sleeping potion." She admitted quietly, "I haven't slept more than two hours in a day for the past week."

Fred paused.

"But you go on," She told him, pushing him slightly towards the exit. "You and George need to stay sharp for your Skiving Snackboxes."

Ankaa noticed Fred giving her a peculiar look before he settled himself on one side of the long couch.

"If you won't sleep, neither will I."

"Fred, don't be stupid—"

"I can't stop once I've started."

"—go and sleep."

"Sorry, love," Fred smiled, reclining back on the couch. "It's quite comfy here. Maybe I can read one of those books you're always reading."

"Fred—"

"Ankaa," He began firmly, "You're not going to change my mind. Either we both go to sleep, or we don't sleep at all." When she opened her mouth to retort furiously, he quickly interrupted, "And you can't lie to me and say you're going to your room to sleep. I know you'll just be up practicing some new spell. So, we'll both sit here or sleep here, your choice."

"Fine!" Ankaa hissed, throwing a cushion at his face. Fred laughed, catching it in midair and hugging it close. He moved around, placing the cushion on the armrest and putting his head on it, getting comfortable.

Ankaa curled up on her armchair, resting her head on one of the sides that folded out.

"This is nice," Fred remarked after a while, "We've never been alone before."

"Please don't make this weird, Fred," Ankaa mumbled with her eyes closed.

"I'm not making it weird, you're the one with feelings for me."

"You don't even know if I have those feelings for you anymore," Ankaa snapped irritably, not bothering to open her eyes.

"You don't?"

Finally, Ankaa sighed in exasperation and opened her eyes to look at him. Quietly, she said, "I don't think so. I mean, with everything that's happened, I've looked back and I think I was wrong. Maybe it was more of a passing crush, you know? Like the ones you have on your friends when you meet them for the first time... But now, I don't think I like you like that."

Ankaa noticed how Fred raised his eyebrow, completely bewildered. He seemed to mull over her answer and then nodded as if he was alright with it.

"That's good then, isn't it?" He smiled over at her, "Things don't have to be awkward between us now."

"They never were," Ankaa mumbled, closing her eyes, "You're the one that's making things awkward now, talking about our feelings."

"Oh, right," Fred nodded, "You're supposed to be going to sleep..."

Ankaa did not respond. Fred turned his head to her, noticing that her eyes were already closed. She had folded her hands under her head as a makeshift pillow. Fred smiled slightly before turning back to the ceiling. After about ten minutes, when he was sure she was asleep, Fred got up. Picking up one of the throws that were placed on the side of the couch, he made his way over to Ankaa.

Gently, he draped the blanket over her.

"Good night," He said, moving her hair out of her face.

Standing up straight, Fred made his way out of the drawing room while trying to stretch out the crick in his neck. He made his way up the stairs and finally lay down in his bed, falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

Downstairs, in the drawing room, Ankaa was wide awake, twirling the lock of hair Fred had brushed away from her face.

Notes:

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