Xenith
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A/N: Okay, this is a monster chapter I've been working on for ages, I think I might divide it into two chapters, but, we'll see! Oh, yeah, and there's a bit of snogging at the end. A bit descriptive, but nothing more that kisses! Enjoy! R&R!!!
---
"I'm cuddling close
To blankets and sheets.
I am alone
In my defeat
I wish I knew you were safely at home."
~~~Dashboard Confessional
---
Chapter Thirty-four
---
"Riddle!" Harry screamed, bolting up-right in the hospital bed, drenched in sweat. "Ron!"
"Harry!" Ron leapt from his seat, putting Harry's glasses in his hand. Harry continued to thrash about, desperately ripping at the sweat soaked linen he'd gotten himself tangled in over the past few days. "Harry, it's all right. You're fine. I'm fine!"
"Ron?" Harry stopped thrashing, grabbing hold of Ron's arms and staring at him as if he'd never seen him before. "Ron, thank god." Harry wrapped his arms round him momentarily before returning his attention to the sheets trapping him to the bed.
"Harry, I'll get them." Ron said, pulling the once crisp white linen away from his friend. Harry leapt to his feet the instant he was free.
"Dumbledore---I've got to speak to Dumbledore," Harry insisted. "And Hermione? Where's Hermione? And Ginny's got Conner, right? They're safe, right? Where's Dumbledore?!" Harry let out in a great rush.
"Wait, Harry, calm down," Ron instructed. "Dumbledore should be here any minute now. He just went to grab a bite and speak with the remaining students. Hermione and Ginny---"
"`Remaining'! What do you mean `remaining'?" Harry interrupted.
"School let out for the holiday. You've been out for days."
"Oh."
"But Herm went down to the kitchens to us some breakfast. Said she needed to get out of here for a few moments."
"Wh---" Harry trailed off as he took in his surroundings. Colin and Ginny were curled up on the bed to Harry's right, fully clothed and fast asleep.
"It's usually packed with Gryffindors, but today's a Hogsmeade day so they're down grabbing breakfast before they head out." Ron explained as Harry's jaw dropped. "Hey, Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"You asked me if Ginny had Conner, who's Conner?"
"What?"
"When I freed you from the sheet, who's Conner?"
"Oh, your son," Harry said, waving it off and pacing the room.
"My what?!" Ron demanded.
"Your son, yours and Hermione's."
"Harry! You're up!" Hermione shrieked, waking the snoozing Gryffindors as she threw herself at the bespectacled boy.
"I'm fine, Herm," Harry replied, pushing her off. "Now, where's the Head---"
"I'm right here, Mr Potter," Dumbledore replied, appearing in the doorway behind Hermione. "Perhaps we should step outside," he said, eyeing the eager ears of the newly awoken students. "I believe you have something to tell me?"
"Professor, it's Riddle---HE'S Riddle---" Harry broke in, giving no heed to Dumbledore's request. "Voldemort, he did something. He looks like he did before he---he did whatever it is he did to look like he used to---"
"Harry, the corridor," Dumbledore commanded, leaving room for argument. "Now."
Harry nodded. "Come on, Ron." He looked to Ron. The youngest Weasley boy stayed immobile, searching Dumbledore's eyes before he moved. "Ron." Harry said sharply. Ron followed.
"I saw him, Professor." Harry said when the occupants of the Hospital Wing were cut off from them.
"In your dream, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, over and over again, but also---also in Hogsmeade, a while ago."
"What? How do you know?"
"I recognised him, but only vaguely. The only time I ever saw Tom Riddle was in second year in the Chamber of Secrets, but my scar started to burn---"
"Why didn't you inform me of this?"
"Because it always hurts! Always. Since the end of last year, it hasn't stopped! That's why I didn't tell you, it didn't seem out of the ordinary---just a little more persistent."
"He was that man," Ron spoke up in a low husky tone. "That man who bumped into me in the Three Broomsticks, wasn't he?"
"Yes." Harry replied, not turning to his friend.
"Why didn't he just try to get you then?"
"Who knows, but that's not what's important now. He's done something, sir," he addressed Dumbledore. "He's more powerful than ever before and he's planning something big."
---
"Where are you going?" Fred said, coming up to Chris from the portrait hole.
"Oh!" She started. "Fred, hi. Why aren't you at Hogsmeade with the rest?"
"You've been there once you've been there a hundred times. Besides, George and Lee and I have some work we need to do before the new year." He took up the empty space beside her.
"Oh," her face fell, she was hiding something. Fred took a step closer to her, twining his large fingers with hers and ignoring the sharp look the dragon on her shoulder gave him.
"What's wrong, Chris?" He nudged her with his shoulder.
"Fred---"
"Come on, you can tell me."
"You know that letter, the one from my father?" She said quietly.
"Where he summoned you?" Fred said, knowing what was coming but unwilling to accept it.
"We're leaving tomorrow morning. Early."
"Were you going to tell me?"
"I didn't want to."
"I'm glad you did."
"I have to go pack . . ." Chris said, turning to the portrait hiding her quarters.
"Can---can I see you? Before you leave?" Fred asked, not letting go of her hand.
"Fred---"
"Just say yes. That's all I want."
"Yes." She breathed, pulling away from him and disappearing into her room.
---
"Dumbledore," Ron exclaimed softly, the worst dawning on him. "Did you send them off to Hogsmeade yet?"
Anger flew fleetingly through Dumbledore's eyes before locking into a glare of resolution. "Get in the Hospital Wing. Do not leave for anything. I will inform you upon my return." Dumbledore pushed them into the Hospital Wing, sealing the door behind them.
Harry slid to the floor against the doorway, his arms propped up on his knees and resting his forehead on his arms.
"What's wrong?" Ginny said quietly from the bed.
"You-Know-Who is in Hogsmeade." Ron replied, sinking into the bed nearest him.
"What?" Colin snapped to attention.
"Harry had a dream and we saw him in Hogsmeade." Ron answered.
"M---my brother's in Hogsmeade." Colin stammered out.
"He'll be okay," Ginny comforted, scooting next to Colin and grabbing his hand. "Dumbledore's on it, right?" She looked to Ron.
"Yes, he's locked us in." Hermione moved to Ron's side and wrapped her arms round his waist.
---
"So, I was thinking," George said, sucking on the end of his quill as he strode across the next to empty common room as Fred entered. "That if we expand our reach to Diagon Alley this year than we can get our foot in the door early and possibly have our own shop there by the time school starts next September."
"Granted," Lee piped in from the floor where he had the schematics of the entire Weasley's Wizard Wheezes franchise spread out before him. "It'd be better if we could get a shop in Hogsmeade by next year, but we can't have everything, I suppose."
"Although, we do already have a little corner in Zonko's . . ." George said, scribbling on a pad of parchment.
"Man," Lee said wistfully, falling onto his back, his hands beneath his head. "If we could get a store in Hogsmeade by next Christmas . . ."
"I know, but that's a bit much to ask for. There's no rental space open in Hogsmeade. But a contact on mine in Diagon Alley says some business is going under and there's a good chance he can hold their old warehouse for us until we can get enough money together . . . are you even listening, Fred?" Fred had sunk into an overstuffed armchair by the fire, a glazed look invading his face. "Fred? What's wrong?"
"She's leaving, George," he answered somberly. He'd been trying to keep up his morale the entire way back to the common room and he was going to see her tonight, but all that couldn't change the fact that he didn't want her to go. He needed her here. At Hogwarts.
"Who's leaving?"
"Who do you think?"
"Chris?"
"Right in one."
"When's she off?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"And how do you---"
"I don't want her to go, George."
---
Harry hadn't moved from his spot on the floor in front of the door.
"It's been hours," Hermione said quietly to Ron. "Do you think anything's happened?"
"I don't know what to think, Herm," Ron replied, leaning against the wall at the head of his bed, Hermione curling in against his side, taking no notice of the other occupants of the Hospital Wing. "I think we would have heard if anything had happened. Don't you?"
"I think everything's all right." Hermione said resolutely.
"I think we should be out there helping." Ron replied. "Can't you unlock the door, Harry?"
"I've been trying. Dumbledore's done more than just a locking charm." Harry answered, his face still buried in his knees. "I can't do it."
"It's okay, Harry." Hermione said. "It's probably better if we stay here anyway."
"That's easy for you to say. You haven't got anyone in Hogsmeade." Harry peaked out of his arms to where Colin and Ginny were talking in hushed tones, their foreheads pressed together. "Dennis is out there."
"You're not responsible for him, Harry."
"Yes, I am. I promised Colin I'd keep an eye on his brother---"
"Attention students!" Professor McGonagall's voice boomed out over the school, ripping the five Gryffindors attention to the air above them. "Stay where you are. A professor will be round shortly to gather you."
---
"---shortly to gather you."
"Bugger that," Fred muttered darkly, determined to tell Chris _exactly_ how he felt about her leaving. He'd managed to work himself up so much in the past hours that no disembodied voice of his Deputy Headmistress was going to be able keep him away from Chris' quarters.
"Featherbrain." Fred growled darkly at the portrait hiding her rooms. "Chris, you're not going." Fred said calmly upon entering, slamming the frame behind him brutally.
"Fred, I have to. You know I have to," she didn't turn from her packing.
"I don't care. You're not going," his voice rising ever so slightly.
"You're being ridiculous. Hayde's orders, you know that." She moved over to the small beat-up dresser and pulled open the last drawer, her hands shaking.
"I'm not going to let you."
"What do you mean 'you're not going to let me'?" She finally turned to him. He could see she'd been crying.
"I'm not letting you." He repeated, moving to block the portrait exit.
"Fred, you're being a prat. I have to go."
"You don't though! Get Eddie or Brian or even MAT to do it! You don't need to go." He ended quietly. He had spent the past few hours thinking about ways to keep her at Hogwarts with him. And he refused to give up now.
"Mat's coming with me, Brian's staying to continue teaching the class and keeping a watch on the dragon's staying at Hogwarts, and Eddie's being sent somewhere else."
"Don't leave," Fred whispered, carefully examining his warn trainers.
"I have to," she turned back to her rucksack.
"Don't leave Hogwarts . . . don't leave me."
"Don't do this, Fred. Just leave." She was on the verge of crying. "Just walk away."
Fred did start to walk, but not away. He came up close behind her, very close, and wrapped his thick arms round her lithe form, binding her to himself and refusing to let her go. "No." He could feel a horrible tingle in the corners of his eyes.
"I have to go." She prayed silently that it wasn't true, that Fred would never let her go.
She pulled roughly out of the ginger haired twin's embrace and went back to her dresser, haphazardly knocking pictures off the top and into her tunic.
"Shite, Chris!" Fred shouted, letting the tears fall down his freckly cheeks as he waved his arms round the room recklessly. Chris dropped the photographs into the top of her bag, inwardly cursing herself for not taking more time with her packing.
"What do you want me to do then?" She asked, knowing perfectly well what it was he wanted.
"God! Stay here! You're going to get yourself killed!"
"Do you think that little of me Fred? I've done dangerous things before now. I live with dragons for goodness sake."
Fred panted heavily, wiping vigorously at his eyes, not caring that she was seeing him---making him cry. "How can you do this? How are you doing this to me? You're just a girl. Why do I bloody care this much?" He demanded more of himself than her.
"I have to go," she answered. "I have to help the fight."
"It's only December." What he'd said hadn't really made much sense, but it had been what he was thinking. "I might never see you again. What if you die? Then what?"
Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, over the scar, and down her exposed collarbone.
"And if you die what am I supposed to do then? Huh? Just go on living without you? Well that's never going to work!" He shouted across the room at her.
"I'm not going to die."
"You don't know that! You could be going to bloody Greenland for all I know!"
"I have to go to that post or more people are going to die." He knew this was true but chose not to acknowledge the sensible portion of his brain.
"I have to go," she whispered. "Tomorrow morning."
"And what exactly do you want me to do? I'm not staying here without you!"
"You want to come?"
"Yes!"
"No."
"Chris, how---"
"Damn it, Fred! What's the big deal? It's not like we're dating or anything."
"`Not dating'?" Fred gaped at her. "Not dating! What have we been doing then? Just snogging in dark corners at every possible chance we get, that's what! No, that's not dating at all!" He ended sarcastically.
"It was just sex, Fred! That's all!"
"What?"
"We both needed someway to deal with the pressures of this damn war and that was it. That was ALL it was!"
"You're lying." He said softly, his words etched with pain.
"Leave Fred. Just leave. I can't deal with this right now." She rubbed a scared hand over her equally scared face.
"Fine." And he slammed the portrait shut behind him.
---
"Fred! What's wrong?" Angelina asked as Fred stormed into Gryffindor tower. "Where have you been? How'd you---"
"Sod off, Angelina." Fred snapped, heading straight for the boys dormitories.
"Oh, that's a nice way to treat one of your best friends!" She shouted up after him.
He spun on her, "You're not one of my best friends!" and continued up the stairwell.
"I hate her, George. I just hate her." He said to his twin falling onto his four-poster, staring at the ceiling.
"You sound like a girl." His counterpart joked half-heartedly, bouncing onto the bed.
"Thanks for the support," he made half an effort to hit George. "It's just . . . you know?" He trailed off lamely.
"Not particularly."
"Just being round her is . . . intoxicating."
"Now, now young Fredric, come, tell your big brother what's wrong."
"One minute. You're only one bloody minute older."
George chose to ignore him. "Don't be a moron, Fred. Honestly, if you want her go get her! Don't be whining your bum off to me when you could just go down to her private dorm and get her. You know the password, right?"
"Yes," He mumbled, rolling onto his stomach.
"Then go!"
"No. I'm going to bed." And with a flick of his wand the curtains of his four-poster closed off his brother.
"What an idiot." He heard him mutter. "The bloody prat should be glad he's got anyone at all." And the dormitory door was slammed shut behind him.
--
He couldn't remember when he had fallen asleep or, for that matter, the reason he'd woken up; but when his stomach rumbled in protest at the thought of going back to bed, he left the dormitory, McGonagall's warning forgotten. Fred's original intention was to head down to the kitchens; his feet, though, had a completely different idea. Exhausted, he wiped the sleep angrily out of his eyes. A small scream came from the tiny knight in the portrait before him (the dragon had him caught in a corner of the courtyard).
"Damn," he muttered, kicking the wall before him. "Featherbrain." He said softly to the portrait, bowing to the inevitable.
Fred winced slightly as the frame snapped shut behind him. He stood there for a moment watching her. She lay beneath her flimsy quilt facing the tiny windowed wall. A small strip of moonlight fell across her slightly parted mouth and scarred neck and cheek, the three claw marks particularly prominent.
Following his feet (they seemed to be thinking for themselves now), he slipped under her ratty quilt; completely awake.
Chris's entire body tensed and he could feel goose pimples run up her bare legs as his skin rubbed against her own. His arm wrapped protectively round her waist and he pulled himself tight against her back.
He lay there with her and mumbled clumsily into her ear, "I'm sorry."
"I know," she answered, rolling over in his arms and nuzzling into his neck. Fred hooked his leg round hers, hugging her to him.
"I'm so sorry, Chris."
"I said I know." Her breath was warm and alluring on his neck and ear.
"But---"
"Shush," and she kissed his Adam's apple. His breath caught in his throat as her lips moved up the nape of his neck and chin until finally catching his own. His tongue parted her lips delicately and began working its way expertly round her mouth.
"Fred . . ." she murmured into his mouth finally.
"Hmmm?"
"I'm leaving tomorrow Fred," she positioned herself on top of him and pressed her forehead against his own.
"I know," he kissed her again.
"I will---miss---you---you---know---that---right?" He was kissing her in between every word.
"Yes," his chin moved back to hers.
"This was more then just a fling, Fred." Chris pushed him back down and folded her hands across his chest and resting her chin upon them.
"I know." He watched his hands slide through her dark, lengthy tendrils, twisting one luscious lock round his finger.
She smiled sweetly down at him, running her long fingers through his short red hair before her head moved itself neatly into the crook of his shoulder. Her hair pushed under his nose as she pressed a cold cheek against his skin and traced his Quidditch hardened abdomen with a rough fingertip. "Not worried about being caught now, are we?"
"I don't care anymore." She smiled at him and slid down his waist, pulling off the trousers of his pajamas. She slithered back up to him, sitting squarely in between his legs, as innocent as the forest nymph she so resembled. He sat up to meet her, taking her face into his palms.
She shuddered as Fred rubbed his thumb over the scar on her cheek and watched his fingers follow the shiny mark down her neck to the low collar of her small, thin shirt. His fingers slipped under the flowy sleeves and began to tug it off over her head. The scar rippled under her heavy breathing and twisted itself down the middle of her naked chest to where it finally disappeared beneath the flowery green of her underwear line.
A dark blue and indigo dragon played its way near her naval letting loose a tiny burst of fire before scampering to her back.
"I don't think I'll ever tire of seeing that." He laughed quietly.
She only smiled her crooked half-smile, letting Fred take her into his arms. Fred rolled over her, running his fingers again through her long dark hair. Fred held her hands over her head as he began on his quest to kiss every one of her scars---starting at her slender neck.
---
It took Fred half an instant to realise where he was the next morning and even less time for him to pin down the exact reason he felt so insanely happy and terribly depressed all at once. A smile crept onto his face as thought of the previous night's escapades. His hand groped the left side of the bed where Chris had lain the night before. She wasn't there. Fred sat up suddenly, his eyes darting round the tiny room. Her bags were gone too.
She'd left him.
---
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
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((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*
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A/N: Okay, this is a monster chapter I've been working on for ages, I think I might divide it into two chapters, but, we'll see! Oh, yeah, and there's a bit of snogging at the end. A bit descriptive, but nothing more that kisses! Enjoy! R&R!!!
---
"I'm cuddling close
To blankets and sheets.
I am alone
In my defeat
I wish I knew you were safely at home."
~~~Dashboard Confessional
---
Chapter Thirty-four
---
"Riddle!" Harry screamed, bolting up-right in the hospital bed, drenched in sweat. "Ron!"
"Harry!" Ron leapt from his seat, putting Harry's glasses in his hand. Harry continued to thrash about, desperately ripping at the sweat soaked linen he'd gotten himself tangled in over the past few days. "Harry, it's all right. You're fine. I'm fine!"
"Ron?" Harry stopped thrashing, grabbing hold of Ron's arms and staring at him as if he'd never seen him before. "Ron, thank god." Harry wrapped his arms round him momentarily before returning his attention to the sheets trapping him to the bed.
"Harry, I'll get them." Ron said, pulling the once crisp white linen away from his friend. Harry leapt to his feet the instant he was free.
"Dumbledore---I've got to speak to Dumbledore," Harry insisted. "And Hermione? Where's Hermione? And Ginny's got Conner, right? They're safe, right? Where's Dumbledore?!" Harry let out in a great rush.
"Wait, Harry, calm down," Ron instructed. "Dumbledore should be here any minute now. He just went to grab a bite and speak with the remaining students. Hermione and Ginny---"
"`Remaining'! What do you mean `remaining'?" Harry interrupted.
"School let out for the holiday. You've been out for days."
"Oh."
"But Herm went down to the kitchens to us some breakfast. Said she needed to get out of here for a few moments."
"Wh---" Harry trailed off as he took in his surroundings. Colin and Ginny were curled up on the bed to Harry's right, fully clothed and fast asleep.
"It's usually packed with Gryffindors, but today's a Hogsmeade day so they're down grabbing breakfast before they head out." Ron explained as Harry's jaw dropped. "Hey, Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"You asked me if Ginny had Conner, who's Conner?"
"What?"
"When I freed you from the sheet, who's Conner?"
"Oh, your son," Harry said, waving it off and pacing the room.
"My what?!" Ron demanded.
"Your son, yours and Hermione's."
"Harry! You're up!" Hermione shrieked, waking the snoozing Gryffindors as she threw herself at the bespectacled boy.
"I'm fine, Herm," Harry replied, pushing her off. "Now, where's the Head---"
"I'm right here, Mr Potter," Dumbledore replied, appearing in the doorway behind Hermione. "Perhaps we should step outside," he said, eyeing the eager ears of the newly awoken students. "I believe you have something to tell me?"
"Professor, it's Riddle---HE'S Riddle---" Harry broke in, giving no heed to Dumbledore's request. "Voldemort, he did something. He looks like he did before he---he did whatever it is he did to look like he used to---"
"Harry, the corridor," Dumbledore commanded, leaving room for argument. "Now."
Harry nodded. "Come on, Ron." He looked to Ron. The youngest Weasley boy stayed immobile, searching Dumbledore's eyes before he moved. "Ron." Harry said sharply. Ron followed.
"I saw him, Professor." Harry said when the occupants of the Hospital Wing were cut off from them.
"In your dream, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, over and over again, but also---also in Hogsmeade, a while ago."
"What? How do you know?"
"I recognised him, but only vaguely. The only time I ever saw Tom Riddle was in second year in the Chamber of Secrets, but my scar started to burn---"
"Why didn't you inform me of this?"
"Because it always hurts! Always. Since the end of last year, it hasn't stopped! That's why I didn't tell you, it didn't seem out of the ordinary---just a little more persistent."
"He was that man," Ron spoke up in a low husky tone. "That man who bumped into me in the Three Broomsticks, wasn't he?"
"Yes." Harry replied, not turning to his friend.
"Why didn't he just try to get you then?"
"Who knows, but that's not what's important now. He's done something, sir," he addressed Dumbledore. "He's more powerful than ever before and he's planning something big."
---
"Where are you going?" Fred said, coming up to Chris from the portrait hole.
"Oh!" She started. "Fred, hi. Why aren't you at Hogsmeade with the rest?"
"You've been there once you've been there a hundred times. Besides, George and Lee and I have some work we need to do before the new year." He took up the empty space beside her.
"Oh," her face fell, she was hiding something. Fred took a step closer to her, twining his large fingers with hers and ignoring the sharp look the dragon on her shoulder gave him.
"What's wrong, Chris?" He nudged her with his shoulder.
"Fred---"
"Come on, you can tell me."
"You know that letter, the one from my father?" She said quietly.
"Where he summoned you?" Fred said, knowing what was coming but unwilling to accept it.
"We're leaving tomorrow morning. Early."
"Were you going to tell me?"
"I didn't want to."
"I'm glad you did."
"I have to go pack . . ." Chris said, turning to the portrait hiding her quarters.
"Can---can I see you? Before you leave?" Fred asked, not letting go of her hand.
"Fred---"
"Just say yes. That's all I want."
"Yes." She breathed, pulling away from him and disappearing into her room.
---
"Dumbledore," Ron exclaimed softly, the worst dawning on him. "Did you send them off to Hogsmeade yet?"
Anger flew fleetingly through Dumbledore's eyes before locking into a glare of resolution. "Get in the Hospital Wing. Do not leave for anything. I will inform you upon my return." Dumbledore pushed them into the Hospital Wing, sealing the door behind them.
Harry slid to the floor against the doorway, his arms propped up on his knees and resting his forehead on his arms.
"What's wrong?" Ginny said quietly from the bed.
"You-Know-Who is in Hogsmeade." Ron replied, sinking into the bed nearest him.
"What?" Colin snapped to attention.
"Harry had a dream and we saw him in Hogsmeade." Ron answered.
"M---my brother's in Hogsmeade." Colin stammered out.
"He'll be okay," Ginny comforted, scooting next to Colin and grabbing his hand. "Dumbledore's on it, right?" She looked to Ron.
"Yes, he's locked us in." Hermione moved to Ron's side and wrapped her arms round his waist.
---
"So, I was thinking," George said, sucking on the end of his quill as he strode across the next to empty common room as Fred entered. "That if we expand our reach to Diagon Alley this year than we can get our foot in the door early and possibly have our own shop there by the time school starts next September."
"Granted," Lee piped in from the floor where he had the schematics of the entire Weasley's Wizard Wheezes franchise spread out before him. "It'd be better if we could get a shop in Hogsmeade by next year, but we can't have everything, I suppose."
"Although, we do already have a little corner in Zonko's . . ." George said, scribbling on a pad of parchment.
"Man," Lee said wistfully, falling onto his back, his hands beneath his head. "If we could get a store in Hogsmeade by next Christmas . . ."
"I know, but that's a bit much to ask for. There's no rental space open in Hogsmeade. But a contact on mine in Diagon Alley says some business is going under and there's a good chance he can hold their old warehouse for us until we can get enough money together . . . are you even listening, Fred?" Fred had sunk into an overstuffed armchair by the fire, a glazed look invading his face. "Fred? What's wrong?"
"She's leaving, George," he answered somberly. He'd been trying to keep up his morale the entire way back to the common room and he was going to see her tonight, but all that couldn't change the fact that he didn't want her to go. He needed her here. At Hogwarts.
"Who's leaving?"
"Who do you think?"
"Chris?"
"Right in one."
"When's she off?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"And how do you---"
"I don't want her to go, George."
---
Harry hadn't moved from his spot on the floor in front of the door.
"It's been hours," Hermione said quietly to Ron. "Do you think anything's happened?"
"I don't know what to think, Herm," Ron replied, leaning against the wall at the head of his bed, Hermione curling in against his side, taking no notice of the other occupants of the Hospital Wing. "I think we would have heard if anything had happened. Don't you?"
"I think everything's all right." Hermione said resolutely.
"I think we should be out there helping." Ron replied. "Can't you unlock the door, Harry?"
"I've been trying. Dumbledore's done more than just a locking charm." Harry answered, his face still buried in his knees. "I can't do it."
"It's okay, Harry." Hermione said. "It's probably better if we stay here anyway."
"That's easy for you to say. You haven't got anyone in Hogsmeade." Harry peaked out of his arms to where Colin and Ginny were talking in hushed tones, their foreheads pressed together. "Dennis is out there."
"You're not responsible for him, Harry."
"Yes, I am. I promised Colin I'd keep an eye on his brother---"
"Attention students!" Professor McGonagall's voice boomed out over the school, ripping the five Gryffindors attention to the air above them. "Stay where you are. A professor will be round shortly to gather you."
---
"---shortly to gather you."
"Bugger that," Fred muttered darkly, determined to tell Chris _exactly_ how he felt about her leaving. He'd managed to work himself up so much in the past hours that no disembodied voice of his Deputy Headmistress was going to be able keep him away from Chris' quarters.
"Featherbrain." Fred growled darkly at the portrait hiding her rooms. "Chris, you're not going." Fred said calmly upon entering, slamming the frame behind him brutally.
"Fred, I have to. You know I have to," she didn't turn from her packing.
"I don't care. You're not going," his voice rising ever so slightly.
"You're being ridiculous. Hayde's orders, you know that." She moved over to the small beat-up dresser and pulled open the last drawer, her hands shaking.
"I'm not going to let you."
"What do you mean 'you're not going to let me'?" She finally turned to him. He could see she'd been crying.
"I'm not letting you." He repeated, moving to block the portrait exit.
"Fred, you're being a prat. I have to go."
"You don't though! Get Eddie or Brian or even MAT to do it! You don't need to go." He ended quietly. He had spent the past few hours thinking about ways to keep her at Hogwarts with him. And he refused to give up now.
"Mat's coming with me, Brian's staying to continue teaching the class and keeping a watch on the dragon's staying at Hogwarts, and Eddie's being sent somewhere else."
"Don't leave," Fred whispered, carefully examining his warn trainers.
"I have to," she turned back to her rucksack.
"Don't leave Hogwarts . . . don't leave me."
"Don't do this, Fred. Just leave." She was on the verge of crying. "Just walk away."
Fred did start to walk, but not away. He came up close behind her, very close, and wrapped his thick arms round her lithe form, binding her to himself and refusing to let her go. "No." He could feel a horrible tingle in the corners of his eyes.
"I have to go." She prayed silently that it wasn't true, that Fred would never let her go.
She pulled roughly out of the ginger haired twin's embrace and went back to her dresser, haphazardly knocking pictures off the top and into her tunic.
"Shite, Chris!" Fred shouted, letting the tears fall down his freckly cheeks as he waved his arms round the room recklessly. Chris dropped the photographs into the top of her bag, inwardly cursing herself for not taking more time with her packing.
"What do you want me to do then?" She asked, knowing perfectly well what it was he wanted.
"God! Stay here! You're going to get yourself killed!"
"Do you think that little of me Fred? I've done dangerous things before now. I live with dragons for goodness sake."
Fred panted heavily, wiping vigorously at his eyes, not caring that she was seeing him---making him cry. "How can you do this? How are you doing this to me? You're just a girl. Why do I bloody care this much?" He demanded more of himself than her.
"I have to go," she answered. "I have to help the fight."
"It's only December." What he'd said hadn't really made much sense, but it had been what he was thinking. "I might never see you again. What if you die? Then what?"
Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, over the scar, and down her exposed collarbone.
"And if you die what am I supposed to do then? Huh? Just go on living without you? Well that's never going to work!" He shouted across the room at her.
"I'm not going to die."
"You don't know that! You could be going to bloody Greenland for all I know!"
"I have to go to that post or more people are going to die." He knew this was true but chose not to acknowledge the sensible portion of his brain.
"I have to go," she whispered. "Tomorrow morning."
"And what exactly do you want me to do? I'm not staying here without you!"
"You want to come?"
"Yes!"
"No."
"Chris, how---"
"Damn it, Fred! What's the big deal? It's not like we're dating or anything."
"`Not dating'?" Fred gaped at her. "Not dating! What have we been doing then? Just snogging in dark corners at every possible chance we get, that's what! No, that's not dating at all!" He ended sarcastically.
"It was just sex, Fred! That's all!"
"What?"
"We both needed someway to deal with the pressures of this damn war and that was it. That was ALL it was!"
"You're lying." He said softly, his words etched with pain.
"Leave Fred. Just leave. I can't deal with this right now." She rubbed a scared hand over her equally scared face.
"Fine." And he slammed the portrait shut behind him.
---
"Fred! What's wrong?" Angelina asked as Fred stormed into Gryffindor tower. "Where have you been? How'd you---"
"Sod off, Angelina." Fred snapped, heading straight for the boys dormitories.
"Oh, that's a nice way to treat one of your best friends!" She shouted up after him.
He spun on her, "You're not one of my best friends!" and continued up the stairwell.
"I hate her, George. I just hate her." He said to his twin falling onto his four-poster, staring at the ceiling.
"You sound like a girl." His counterpart joked half-heartedly, bouncing onto the bed.
"Thanks for the support," he made half an effort to hit George. "It's just . . . you know?" He trailed off lamely.
"Not particularly."
"Just being round her is . . . intoxicating."
"Now, now young Fredric, come, tell your big brother what's wrong."
"One minute. You're only one bloody minute older."
George chose to ignore him. "Don't be a moron, Fred. Honestly, if you want her go get her! Don't be whining your bum off to me when you could just go down to her private dorm and get her. You know the password, right?"
"Yes," He mumbled, rolling onto his stomach.
"Then go!"
"No. I'm going to bed." And with a flick of his wand the curtains of his four-poster closed off his brother.
"What an idiot." He heard him mutter. "The bloody prat should be glad he's got anyone at all." And the dormitory door was slammed shut behind him.
--
He couldn't remember when he had fallen asleep or, for that matter, the reason he'd woken up; but when his stomach rumbled in protest at the thought of going back to bed, he left the dormitory, McGonagall's warning forgotten. Fred's original intention was to head down to the kitchens; his feet, though, had a completely different idea. Exhausted, he wiped the sleep angrily out of his eyes. A small scream came from the tiny knight in the portrait before him (the dragon had him caught in a corner of the courtyard).
"Damn," he muttered, kicking the wall before him. "Featherbrain." He said softly to the portrait, bowing to the inevitable.
Fred winced slightly as the frame snapped shut behind him. He stood there for a moment watching her. She lay beneath her flimsy quilt facing the tiny windowed wall. A small strip of moonlight fell across her slightly parted mouth and scarred neck and cheek, the three claw marks particularly prominent.
Following his feet (they seemed to be thinking for themselves now), he slipped under her ratty quilt; completely awake.
Chris's entire body tensed and he could feel goose pimples run up her bare legs as his skin rubbed against her own. His arm wrapped protectively round her waist and he pulled himself tight against her back.
He lay there with her and mumbled clumsily into her ear, "I'm sorry."
"I know," she answered, rolling over in his arms and nuzzling into his neck. Fred hooked his leg round hers, hugging her to him.
"I'm so sorry, Chris."
"I said I know." Her breath was warm and alluring on his neck and ear.
"But---"
"Shush," and she kissed his Adam's apple. His breath caught in his throat as her lips moved up the nape of his neck and chin until finally catching his own. His tongue parted her lips delicately and began working its way expertly round her mouth.
"Fred . . ." she murmured into his mouth finally.
"Hmmm?"
"I'm leaving tomorrow Fred," she positioned herself on top of him and pressed her forehead against his own.
"I know," he kissed her again.
"I will---miss---you---you---know---that---right?" He was kissing her in between every word.
"Yes," his chin moved back to hers.
"This was more then just a fling, Fred." Chris pushed him back down and folded her hands across his chest and resting her chin upon them.
"I know." He watched his hands slide through her dark, lengthy tendrils, twisting one luscious lock round his finger.
She smiled sweetly down at him, running her long fingers through his short red hair before her head moved itself neatly into the crook of his shoulder. Her hair pushed under his nose as she pressed a cold cheek against his skin and traced his Quidditch hardened abdomen with a rough fingertip. "Not worried about being caught now, are we?"
"I don't care anymore." She smiled at him and slid down his waist, pulling off the trousers of his pajamas. She slithered back up to him, sitting squarely in between his legs, as innocent as the forest nymph she so resembled. He sat up to meet her, taking her face into his palms.
She shuddered as Fred rubbed his thumb over the scar on her cheek and watched his fingers follow the shiny mark down her neck to the low collar of her small, thin shirt. His fingers slipped under the flowy sleeves and began to tug it off over her head. The scar rippled under her heavy breathing and twisted itself down the middle of her naked chest to where it finally disappeared beneath the flowery green of her underwear line.
A dark blue and indigo dragon played its way near her naval letting loose a tiny burst of fire before scampering to her back.
"I don't think I'll ever tire of seeing that." He laughed quietly.
She only smiled her crooked half-smile, letting Fred take her into his arms. Fred rolled over her, running his fingers again through her long dark hair. Fred held her hands over her head as he began on his quest to kiss every one of her scars---starting at her slender neck.
---
It took Fred half an instant to realise where he was the next morning and even less time for him to pin down the exact reason he felt so insanely happy and terribly depressed all at once. A smile crept onto his face as thought of the previous night's escapades. His hand groped the left side of the bed where Chris had lain the night before. She wasn't there. Fred sat up suddenly, his eyes darting round the tiny room. Her bags were gone too.
She'd left him.
---
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