Chapter 6
Victoire Weasley was always a proud Ravenclaw – even from before she was sorted back in her first year. Even as a 6-year-old, she proclaimed that she belonged in the blue house, not only because the colour complemented her eyes, but because she was always giving advice to people. No matter their age or situation, Victoire could make anyone feel better with a warm brew and some words of wisdom. She was far too hot-headed to be a Hufflepuff, however, so the obvious choice was Ravenclaw. And true to her house values, she was never short for words. Except for tonight.
Patrolling the Hogwarts corridors at night was one of the less exciting parts of being Head Girl. Hardly anything ever happened, except for being occasionally tormented by a rogue ghost or catching the odd couple snogging behind some tapestries (it was always the one on the 6th floor – you'd think they would find a new place). With her most important exams of her Hogwarts career coming up, Victoire knew that thinking about them or trying to study while on patrol would overwhelm her, so she kept herself occupied by thinking about the huge pile of unread books that she had received for her birthday that she would get to once the summer holidays began. Creating lists in her head was easy – you didn't get to be Head Girl without some organisational skills. And Vic had organisational skills a-plenty.
Rounding a corner on the second floor by the transfiguration classroom, she sensed something unusual, an energy burst with a certain warmth that felt like someone had spread mustard on her bones. Fear fluttered through her. Hogwarts was a magical place and sometimes the magic was not exactly friendly. She recalled stories of three-headed dogs, dragons and trolls roaming the floors of the castle and quickly pulled her wand out, mentally reciting self-defence spells.
Expelliarmus, Stupefy, Reducto.
Just as quickly as it started, the warm feeling disaapeared and Vic felt a little more confident in peering round the corner. What she saw absolutely baffled her. It looked like a Weasley. A tall, gangly redhead with freckly arms was face-down on the floor and groaning. Wand still outstretched, Victoire moved closer. The stranger began to stir, propping himself up to his elbows and onto his bum, sitting legs stretched out on the floor and his head in his arms.
'Was that a wall?' Noticing the silence, the stranger raised his head, eyes still closed. 'Perce? Are you still there?'
Putting the Weasley looks and her Uncle Percy's name together, the stranger was becoming more and more familiar. Victoire let out a little gasp. He finally raised his eyes to hers and she knew exactly who this man was. She could see him scrambling to find his wand but it was nowhere to be seen.
'Who are you?' Fred Weasley demanded, wariness in his eyes.
'Uh- ah- I'm a friend.' A beat of silence as the two stared at one another. 'I swear.'
'Where are my brothers? They were just here.' He finally stood up and Victoire was hit with a wave of nausea. She was looking at an identical, and much younger version of her Uncle George. The same blue eyes that she inherited from her father, but with far fewer lines surrounding them. The same fearful and worried expression she'd seen on George's face when Roxy fell off her broom a few years ago. He knew something was very off.
'We should go somewhere private. There's something you need to know,' she decided that he deserved an explanation before taking him to Professor Longbottom.
'Not before you tell me your name.' He hadn't moved.
'Victoire. Victoire Gabrielle Weasley.'
Fred's expression immediately hardened. But he followed her all the way to the prefect's common room. The moment that the two of them were safely out of hearing distance of anyone else, both of their breath became noticeably heavier.
'I can explain.' And so she did. 'You're Fred Weasley.'
'I am. And you seem to be related to me, although I don't know you.'
'I know your brothers. All of them. Quite well, actually. I know your parents, and your in-laws, and your nieces and nephews.' She paused, letting him process this information.
'I don't have-'his gaze, previously glued to Victoire, strayed to the ceiling. 'Victoire. How are we related?' Her uncle sounded terrified.
'I'm the eldest daughter of Bill and Fleur Weasley,' she said. Fred opened his mouth to say something but closed it. 'I was born on the 2nd of May, 2000, two years to the day of the Battle of Hogwarts, where Voldemort was defeated on school grounds and where we lost fifty good people, in-including you.'
Fred seemed lost in thought for a second before grinning. 'First of all, it's great to see that the Weasley line is diversifying somewhat with fewer gingers,' he laughed and Victoire returned an uneasy smile. 'Secondly, I'm dead?'
'You were. But something happened over the weekend, and Sirius Black came back as well. I think the same must have happened to you.'
'Sirius is alive? Wait-what year is it? Is everyone okay?'
'Nobody else in the family got hurt, don't worry. It's April 29th 2018. And we should probably find Longbottom. He'll know what to do.'
'Neville? Don't tell me he's still trying to get his NEWTs?'
Fred seemed pleased that he'd made Victoire smile. 'Professor Longbottom is the Gryffindor head of house. Plus he can contact Uncle Harry to get you back home. I'm sure you don't want to spend much longer at Hogwarts,' she explained.
And so, the two of them set off. It was still only 10pm, so Longbottom would still be awake. Immediately, Fred began trying to ask more questions. 'How's George? He must be absolutely ancient now! Is the shop still open? Did we ever expand? Was Mum furious when I died? When can I see George?'
He said all of this within one breath, not even giving Victoire a second to respond.
'Shit,' she said, under her breath, but Fred heard her and stopped in his tracks.
'What? Did something happen to George or Mum?'
She laughed. Her first true laugh since happening upon her deceased uncle. 'No, I just realised that there's two of you.'
'No shit, niece of mine, there's always been two of me. I'm a twin.'
'I meant,' she emphasised, 'There are two Fred Weasleys who are equally annoying. You and my cousin Freddie. Uncle George's son.' Victoire thought that telling him about Freddie would give him at least part of an answer to his question about George. But at this information, Fred turned a ghostly shade of white even though he wasn't technically dead anymore.
'What's wrong Fred?'
'I've missed a lot, haven't I?'
Victoire sent him a genuine smile. She couldn't imagine travelling twenty years into the future only to learn that she'd missed her siblings growing up and having kids. Fred was only just digesting this, and he hadn't even seen his twin who was twice his age yet.
'You have. But don't think about how much you've missed, because there's so much that you've gained just by coming back. There's about a hundred new Weasleys since you were last around, and you're going to have to start doing your homework to get to know everyone. Obviously, none of us have met you before, but we've all heard the stories of our Uncle Fred. You'll fit right back in.'
His shoulders relaxed a little, and Victoire thought she could see a glimmer of excitement appear in his eyes again. 'Merlin, this is weird. I feel like I'm talking to Bill. You're good at this, Victoire.'
'I know,' she smirked. 'Being the first cousin and Head Girl means that I've had to give a lot of pep talks over the years. Now come on, let's get you back home.'
Five minutes later, they were facing a 38-year old Neville Longbottom in dragon print pyjamas. Initially, Neville's wand was drawn and ready for anything, but after asking a few key identifying questions to Fred, and vice versa, Neville hugged the younger man so hard, he nearly returned to the land of the dead. Victoire had never seen him more emotional or excited before. Professor Longbottom's office was incredibly welcoming. There was a permanent supply of water kept hot by heating enchantments for any student who needed a cuppa, and across from the desk were several lush sofas covered in blankets. Victoire and Fred were grateful for the comfort as the professor excused himself to make a call and left the two Weasleys alone for a while. Neither spoke much while sipping their warm ginger tea, waiting for whatever would come with Neville's return.
After fifteen minutes, the ornate fireplace glowed green. Neville stepped out, followed by a tall ginger man with only one ear.
