Fred and I didn't end up staying outside for much longer after our encounter with the strange woman. Our minds were still reeling from everything she'd said. We did meet up with George first, though, who had passed us each a fluffy bunch of cotton candy and then immediately asked what was wrong.
Fred ran a hand over his face before filling George in as I slowly picked at the cotton candy, nibbling on it slightly as I listened to Fred's retelling of the story and watching George's reaction.
"So-what, was she a ghost?" he asked, furrowing his brow in thought. "Elizabeth Proctor's ghost? She must've been."
"She didn't really look like any ghost I've seen," Fred said. "She looked pretty...real? Tangible? Alive? But it's just not possible for her to know and even do everything she did without being, well...something." He let out a puff of air and leaned against a tree, tipping his head back against it and closing his eyes. "I have no idea who she is and she knew about Percy. Even if she gave us a fake name to make us think she was really Elizabeth Proctor, how would she know about Percy and how would she know how I felt about what happened?"
"And she had some interesting powers," I said. "I've never said a human witch or wizard create lightning and electricity like that." I paused. "I agree with George. It had to have been Elizabeth. Whether as a ghost or something else, it was her. I know it. She was dressed in clothes from the time period that looked pretty authentic. She spoke the same way Elizabeth wrote in the diary. And it would explain why she saved my life tonight. And that night back at Noah's house."
"Well, then why didn't she step in even sooner?" Fred asked furiously, opening his eyes and looking at me. "Why didn't she step in sooner? Why didn't she step in years ago? The entire time when you were under Eric's care, why didn't she do anything? Why didn't she step in when you were being held captive in that basement? Or when Eric gave you your scars? Or when he stabbed you in the leg?" He gestured wildly with his cotton candy.
I smiled slightly and reached out to put a hand on his wrist, gently lowering his arm. "You're going to take someone's eye out," I said quietly. "But your guess is as good as mine. Maybe she's connected to the diary or the necklace. I've only had both items since shortly after I arrived in London. I had the diary at Noah's house and I had it, as well as the necklace, since I went to the Proctor house. I wore it up until I went inside. I only took it off to try to stand up to Eric. And then I hid it. I hid the necklace and the diary just like Elizabeth did while she was in jail. So if she's attached to them, that could explain it. Plus, Eric wasn't always around me back in London. He wasn't always close enough for her to attack. And before that, my mother had both items."
"Well then why didn't Elizabeth act once Eric captured you here?" Fred asked. "Or act while the diary and necklace were with your mother? She could've put an end to him a lot sooner and he wouldn't have been able to come after you and he wouldn't have been able to kill Noah either."
I flinched slightly before letting out a tired sigh. "I don't know, Fred. I don't know. As far as when my mother and I were in the house with Eric, maybe she didn't want to strike the house with lightning while we were there with him. There were also protection spells around it..."
"We've just established she's some sort of ghost!" Fred exclaimed. "She has more power than all of us combined!"
I stepped closer and reached up to put a hand on his cheek, lightly rubbing my thumb over his skin as he leaned into my touch. "Hey, it's okay," I said.
"It's not," he murmured. "I just think of all you've been through and if there was ever a possibility that you could have been free of all this sooner..."
"Again, I have no idea what the answers are," I said. "And quite frankly, I'm too exhausted right now to do this all over again. Whoever that woman was, Elizabeth or not, she's gone now and I'm honestly just too damn tired to find her after all of this. But it is okay. I'm here, I'm okay. And Eric is gone. It's all over now."
Fred nodded and let out another sigh as he pulled away to rub a hand over his face again. "Can we-can we go back to the hotel?" he murmured. "I'm not really in the mood for all of this." He gestured around him.
I nodded. "Sure," I whispered.
"Any other day and I would be," he said with a dry laugh. "I'd be all over something like this."
"Another time," I said, nodding.
"I'll stay here with Ginny and the others," George offered. "And I'll head back up with them later so that you two can have some time alone." He looked at Fred and glanced down at the cotton candy in his hand. "Are you going to finish that?" A smile turned up the corners of his mouth
Fred let out a small laugh of his own and hesitated briefly as he thought. "Yes," he finally said, ripping a piece off and sticking it in his mouth.
A few minutes later, Fred and I were letting ourselves into the twins' hotel room. I was actually thankful for the quiet and that it was just me and Fred here for the moment.
I used to connecting door between our rooms to go back into the room I'd been sharing with Rachel, and grabbed a change of clothes. George had also kindly agreed to stop by my old foster house and gather the clothes I'd changed out of earlier. Normally I wouldn't have wanted to make even him go there, despite the fact that Eric was gone, but I had left my shoes in the basement and I didn't have another pair—besides the one Eric had made me wear, of course.
Within five minutes of returning to the room, I was in the shower, washing the dirt and grime from my body and wishing I could also wash away the thoughts and memories running through my brain. I felt physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted as the events of the last week caught up to me.
Once I was done, I dressed again and braided my wet hair to keep it away from my face. I had absentmindedly searched for my wand for a moment, wanting to use a drying spell on my hair instead, but then I remembered that my wand had been broken. So the braid would have to do.
When I returned to Fred's room a few minutes later, he was sitting on the side of his bed, staring aimlessly out the window.
Wordlessly, I crossed the room and sat beside him, close enough for our arms to be touching just slightly, which gave him the option to pull away if he needed space. But he didn't.
We sat like that for a few moments until Fred turned sideways to face me. He leaned over to grab his wand from the center of the bed before gesturing me to turn myself towards him. When I did, he gently reached down and lifted my arm, avoiding touching my wrist where the rope burns were. He touched the tip of his wand to the raw, red ring that remained on my skin from the ropes and murmured a few spells. My skin burned slightly and I winced but then relaxed as the burn went away and was replaced with what felt like cool water running over my skin. The red marks began to disappear until they were gone completely and I sighed with relief.
Fred did the same with my other wrist before lifting my hand and bringing the inside of my wrist to his lips, gently kissing it as he did so. "Better?" He asked, meeting my eyes.
"Much better," I said. "Thank you."
"He must've really yanked you around while those ropes were around you," Fred commented.
"He did," I admitted. "But I also did some damage trying to break free when I heard you at the Proctor house."
"I heard you yelling for me," Fred said quietly, reaching out and taking one of my hands, interlacing our fingers. "In those few seconds when the bricks had opened, I heard you. It made it even harder to walk away. But I realized I needed some help. Eric came at me and knocked me to the ground. I missed hitting him with any jinxes. He held his knife to my throat and threatened to kill me and my family if I didn't write you that note and then leave Salem completely. I realized that if he was making me write that note to you, he wanted to mess with your head. He wanted to isolate you and make you feel alone. That told me he was essentially, well-"
"Playing with his food before he ate it?" I asked quietly.
Fred nodded. "I figured that I had some time before Eric did anything rash, so I snuck you your bracelet and the prank items and left to round up everyone else and think of a plan once you did put the bracelet on."
"How did you know I would?" I asked.
"I had a feeling you'd come around," he said. "That if you were in that much danger and couldn't save yourself, you'd let me help you. But I still gave you those items from the joke shop just in case."
"You heard me tell Kingsley I used those too," I said. "I tried to escape, but he had his friends keeping watch." I let out a bitter laugh. "They said they were going to go back and kill you, your family, Tom and Martha..." I shook my head and sighed. "We were so close to getting away, too. It was just so hard to get away from him. It had always been so hard."
Fred didn't answer right away. He simply pressed a kiss to my temple and put an arm around me. "Well, you did it," he finally said. "You did get away."
"Yeah," I whispered. "Thanks to you."
Fred smiled. There was a pause before he spoke again. "How's your leg?"
"Better," I said, looking up at him. "My mother healed it the best she could the Muggle way..." I trailed off as I realized that Fred's face was still bruised from where Eric had punched him earlier. He hadn't even tried to heal it.
Sighing, I grabbed his wand and then used my free hand to tilt his chin up so his face was in the light. He looked down his nose at me as I turned his head from side to side, examining the bruise, which was a few shades darker than it had been earlier.
"Fred, he got you good," I told him.
"It's just a black eye," he said.
"Thankfully." I waved the wand and instantly healed the bruise, watching as it faded from his face. I set the wand down and then reached up to touch the now healed skin with my fingertips. "How does it feel? Good?"
Fred nodded and sighed as he leaned into my touch and closed his eyes.
"You're still thinking about Elizabeth," I commented, slowly removing my hand from his face.
Fred nodded again and opened his eyes as he stared at me. "Part of me was angry at first, thinking she was just some crazy woman trying to mess with me, but how would she have known otherwise? How would she have known his name? And even though I was angry at first, when she told me it was all okay and Percy wasn't holding anything against me, hearing the words made me feel..."
"Relieved?" I asked. "Free?"
Fred nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. "Free. Like a weight had been lifted from my chest. If Percy didn't hate me, than I could stop hating myself. But it was all overcome by anger because I thought there's no way this woman could know that. Deep down, though, I don't think there's much else of an explanation. And it's still a lot to process."
I nodded. "I know," I whispered. There was another long pause before I spoke again, looking up at Fred as I did so. "I don't know if it's much consolation, but even if she was some crazy old bat, well...she's right. I never met Percy, but I know he'd never hold what happened against you. He did what he did knowing what the consequences could be because you're his little brother. Wouldn't you do the same for George? Or Ginny, or Ron? Or any of your siblings, really."
He nodded. "Of course."
"Look what you did for me, Fred," I told him quietly. "You came all the way here, you put your life on the line. You came running to help me that day in Diagon Alley when I was being attacked."
"I still can't believe that was Eric," Fred growled. "What a sick bastard."
I let out a quiet snort of laughter. "My point is that you've been putting yourself at risk since you met me and you haven't known me that long. I can only imagine how fiercely you'd protect your family. And every time I tried to push you away, you demanded otherwise. You wouldn't take no for an answer and you wouldn't let me feel a single bit of guilt for dragging you into this mess. So if Percy's anything like you, he wouldn't let you feel that way about him."
Fred's head was cast downwards, but when he finally looked up at me, his eyes looked slightly glassy with tears. "Percy and I are nothing alike," he chuckled weakly. "And we never have been. But he has always been a no-nonsense kind of person. Especially when it comes to things he feels strongly about."
"I think you're one of them," I said with a soft smile.
Fred groaned. "And he had to go and prove that by doing the absolute most he could. Typical. He always had to do the most. He was such a damn overachiever." He actually let out a dry laugh. "Most siblings can just say they love each other. Or buy each other gifts. I would have totally accepted a gift." He hesitated. "Although, Percy gave horrible gifts, so maybe I wouldn't have."
I giggled again as Fred leaned into me and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder, nose pressed into the crook of my neck. I absentmindedly began toying with his hair as he sighed.
"I'm really glad you're here," he whispered.
"Are you kidding me?" I asked. "I'm glad you're here. You saved my life."
"Nah, you saved your own life by finally accepting some damn help for once," Fred snorted.
"Shut it," I scoffed as I pulled away and turned myself so I was leaning against the headboard, stretching my legs out in front of me as I did so. Fred shifted as well and lay beside me. I curled up against his side and he wrapped his arm around me again.
"So..." he finally said. "Your mother."
"What about her?"
"That must have been quite a shocker for you," Fred said with a smile as he looked down at me.
I laughed. "What about you? You looked like you wanted to push her off the wagon."
"I did want to for a moment," Fred said. "I told you I didn't expect to be that angry at her. I know not everything was her choice, but I've seen how badly she's hurt you."
"I know," I said quietly. "But at the same time I've spent so much time wondering about her. And now I don't have to anymore. I have the chance to get to know her all over again. And I want to. I want to try."
Fred didn't answer. Instead, he stared straight ahead as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over my hip.
"You're sure?" He finally asked. "I just...don't want you to get hurt again."
I nodded. "You're sweet to worry, but I'm sure."
"You think it's going to be that easy?" he asked. "To just--have a relationship with her?
"No, I've already told you I knew it wouldn't be. Both of us went through some very traumatic things and I'm sure it's effected and changed her just as much as it has me. But that's why I said I'd like to try." I continued to look at him for a moment longer, studying the side of his face as he stared at the wall, seemingly lost in thought. "What else is wrong?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said. "Just processing it all."
I hesitated a moment, wondering if he was telling the truth. "Okay," I finally said slowly. "You can tell me, you know, if there's something else bothering you."
Fred nodded. "I know," he whispered, still staring straight ahead.
I sighed. "Do you?" I asked, sitting up and actually turning and swinging my right leg over him so that I was now straddling his lap and sitting directly in his line of vision. If he wouldn't look at me, I was going to make him look at me.
Fred looked at me in slight surprise as he raised an eyebrow and his hands automatically went to the sides of my thighs. "When did you get so brave?" He asked. "When I first met you, you barely spoke and wouldn't look me in the eye. Now it looks like you're seconds away from ripping my clothes off."
"Stop it, Fred. Be serious." When he looked away again I reached out and gently put a hand on his cheek, turning his head to make him look at me. "Come on, now it's you not looking me in the eye," I said. "You wouldn't let me avoid you, so now I'm returning the favor."
Fred laughed quietly and glanced away for a second before looking back at me. "I guess I'm just trying to figure out where you and I go from here."
Now it was my turn to blush and look away as I dropped my hand from Fred's face.
"Ah, no, none of that," Fred said. He reached out and took my chin between his fingers and tilted my head to look at him. One side of his mouth turned up in a smirk. "Now is not the time to get bashful over a serious yet innocent question when you're the one straddling me."
I laughed. "Well, you tell me. If all of this was normal from the start, what would be your next move?" I asked.
"Probably ask you out on a proper date," Fred answered. "Although, like I said, you're already straddling me, so we could just move straight to—"
"No," I interrupted, swatting his chest gently. "If that's the way you're thinking, I'll just get off of you." I tried to move off of him, but Fred moved his hands to my hips, stopping me.
"I didn't say I hated it," he said with a cheeky grin.
"No, you didn't. That's exactly the point. You're enjoying yourself."
"Of course I am," he replied.
I rolled my eyes slightly before looking at him again and shrugging. "So let's go on a date, then. I just want to do things as normally as possible. Now that I can and don't have to keep looking over my shoulder."
Fred looked at me thoughtfully for a moment before reaching out and tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "But you and your mother—"
"I can maintain multiple relationships at once, you know," I said.
"But-" Fred began, before breaking off and biting his lip thoughtfully.
"But what?" I asked gently.
Fred sighed and looked up at me with a slight frown, his eyes wandering slowly over my face, taking me all in. Finally, his serious expression melted into a playful one. "Do you want to know what my next move is now?" He finally asked. "Now that you've agreed to a date, but before that date has actually happened?"
"What?" I whispered, my pulse quickening slightly. I knew he'd changed the subject, but my heart was racing too fast for me to care.
Fred pushed himself away from the headboard and leaned towards me, slowly pressing his lips to mine.
I kissed him back for a second before pulling away slightly. "We were having a serious conversation, you know," I whispered.
"We were," he whispered back. And even though my eyes were still closed, I knew he was grinning.
"You changed the subject," I said.
"I did," Fred replied. He leaned in and kissed me again. "Because I'd much rather do this," he whispered.
I let him continue for a moment longer, even allowing him to deepen the kiss. And while my heart was certainly pounding, I didn't have any of the fear I would've had normally when people came too close too quickly. I knew I was safe. And I was actually enjoying kissing him. He was good at it, even if I still feared I wasn't.
His hands wandered from my hips to my back. I stiffened slightly but relaxed a second later. It still didn't go unnoticed by Fred, though. He pulled away and gave me a half-smile. "Sorry," he said.
"For what?" I asked.
"It was stupid to try and kiss you," Fred said. "After all you just went through, this is the last thing you probably want."
"Fred, I did kiss you back, you know," I told him.
"But I felt you stiffen when I touched you. You're verbally telling me one thing, but your body tells me otherwise."
"What's my body telling you now?" I asked with a smile, resting a hand on the side of his face, threading my fingers through his hair and brushing them along the shell of his ear and then down the side of his neck.
His eyes widened for a split second. "Are you bloody serious right now? Where did that come from?"
I simply smiled. "I've got a lot of newfound courage now that I'm not being hunted down by a lunatic."
Fred simply stared at me, holding my gaze with his own for a long moment. Finally, he closed his eyes and swallowed. "Damnit," he whispered.
And then he leaned in and kissed me again as I slid my hand to the back of his head, running my fingers through his remarkably soft hair.
It was only when he suddenly flipped us over so I was lying on my back and he was hovering above me that I felt myself get scared. I had a flash of Eric hovering above me back at the Proctor house, pinning me down with his knees as he tied me up and I screamed only for him to slap me across the face.
"Fred," I gasped out, pulling away as much as I could.
"Hm?" He asked, mistaking the breathless fear in my voice as enjoyment as he moved on to kissing my neck. The wave of fear rushed through me again, tightening my chest.
"Fred, stop," I said, my voice coming out clearer as I pushed on his chest slightly. "Please."
He understood immediately and pulled back, rolling off of me as I sat up and took in a few deep breaths, resting my elbows on my knees and running my hands through my hair. Tears were pricking my eyes and I knew Fred would notice, no matter how hard I tried to hide it. I was annoyed, angry, and beyond frustrated with myself for being this way, but mostly Eric for making me this way. Would I ever just get to be normal? I wanted to kiss Fred. Eric was dead. Why was I still unable to do anything without him looming over me?
I finally turned my head to see Fred sitting beside me, but far enough away to give me space. I couldn't quite read the expression on his face, but just knew he was disappointed. Part of him probably wished I was normal too, so he could just kiss a girl without her freaking out on him.
"I'm sorry," I muttered.
"You're sorry?" He asked incredulously. "What for?"
"I wanted to kiss you," I told him, lowering my hands to my lap and staring down at them. "I acted like..." I sighed and trailed off. "I acted like I wanted to. And I did. And now it just seems like I was teasing you. But when you rolled on top of me, all I could think of was Eric holding me down as he tied the rope around my wrists."
Fred was quiet for a moment. "I understand that you've been through a lot, but you have to know that I'm not Eric. "I would never—"
"I know," I told him earnestly. "I know that."
"Soph...if anything becomes too much, just tell me, okay? Tell me and I'll stop."
I nodded. "I can't promise it won't happen again, though."
"I would be surprised if it didn't," Fred answered. "After everything that man put you through? I knew that doing this now wouldn't be appropriate. You're not in a good headspace right now even if you try to act like you are. You just escaped being murdered and here I am looking like I'm trying to get in your pants."
"I told you I was okay with it," I insisted. "And I was. I like kissing you."
"You may have been okay with it, or at least okay with the idea of kissing me," Fred said. In theory, you know? But it's not possible for you to be in a good place right now. A lot just happened."
I nodded. "I guess. It just got to be to much when you were suddenly on top of me."
"You felt like you weren't in control anymore that way," Fred said.
"I guess so." I shook my head. "I just-I wasn't trying to be a tease or anything."
"I know," Fred answered. "Like I said, I'd be surprised if you weren't freaking out about this kind of thing."
"And you don't mind?" I asked. "You're not disappointed that you can't just have a normal relationship?"
"Sophie, look at me," Fred said, sliding closer and slowly reaching for my hand. I let him take it before glancing quickly up at him. He shook his head. "No, look at me." He gently titled my chin up until I was looking at him fully. "Regardless of the reason you stopped me, I would have stopped. Whether you were reminded of all the trauma you've been through or you simply just weren't ready, I would have stopped. Come on, I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but not to that extent."
"That's not what I asked," I said. "I know you would have stopped. I asked if you were-"
"It doesn't matter," Fred insisted.
"It does matter," I said. "I'm disappointed, too, Fred. I told you, I want this. I want to kiss you. I want to be able to do this without being afraid."
"One day you will," Fred promised. "But what matters now is that you were too uncomfortable to keep going, so we stopped. Of course I like kissing you, too. A lot, actually, but I'm not going to force you to do something that you don't want to do. And I'm not going to get so frustrated that I decide to move on to someone else, if that's what you're thinking." He paused. "I know how that feels."
"But Angelina couldn't help falling in love with Oliver. You know that. You don't get to choose who you have feelings for. If you find someone else who can give you what you want—"
"I want you," Fred said. "For more than just kissing. I want your kindness and your sense of humor and your patience. You know, I've hit you with a door, stepped on your foot, yelled at you and embarrassed myself in front of you. And I know that I must have annoyed and terrified you at times, especially the beginning. But you still like me anyway."
I snorted. "Don't forget, I also cleaned up your vomit before I'd even met you."
"That too," Fred chuckled. "I also want you to trust me. I know you mostly do. But I want you to trust me completely. There's always going to be a certain amount of risk with this kind of stuff, even when things aren't as complicated as they are with us. But you have to want to take that risk. You have to think it's worth it."
I thought that over for a second before sliding closer to him and leaning up to kiss his cheek. "It is," I whispered. "Worth it, I mean. I guess I'm just angry at myself too because I want this. I want to be normal and I just...can't always seem to do that."
"It's not your fault," Fred said.
I nodded. "I know," I whispered. "Ultimately, yes, I know that."
Fred smiled and slipped his arm around me again, pulling me to him and leaning back against the pillows as he did so. And shortly after, we'd both fallen asleep that way-me curled up against Fred's side and his arm wrapped snugly around me.
The next morning, I woke up still feeling tired. My sleep had been interrupted in the middle of the night by another nightmare, which wasn't all that surprising. I'd jolted awake trembling and gasping for air as I looked around and tried to get my bearings and remember where I was. I'd even flipped on the light and glanced around the room nervously, even though I knew no one was there. The only other people in the room were Fred and George-who had come back to the room sometime after Fred and I had fallen asleep and was now sprawled across the second bed.
I'd gotten up and gone into the bathroom, where I splashed water on my face and then stood there with my hands resting on the sink as I managed to stop shaking. When I looked up again, Fred was standing in the bathroom doorway, leaning against the doorframe and watching me. I jumped slightly and let out a gasp when i saw him; I hadn't realized he was there. He crossed the room to me and pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me and brushing my hair back from the side of my face.
We'd stood like that for a while until Fred scooped me up and carried me back to bed, where he stroked my hair until I fell asleep again.
When I woke up in the morning, Fred was no longer beside me. I could sense it even before I opened my eyes. Rolling over, I let out a quiet groan and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Nine-fifteen in the morning.
"Morning, sunshine."
I looked up to see George sitting on the spare bed that he'd slept in the night before. He was leaning over to tie his shoes while he smiled up at me. I heard water running from the bathroom and guessed that was where Fred was.
"Morning, George," I mumbled sleepily, rubbing the back of my hand over my face.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, finishing with his shoes and sitting up straight as he looked at me seriously.
I shrugged as I pushed myself to a sitting position. "Tired, mostly. I haven't been sleeping well lately-being trapped in a basement will do that to you. And last night was kind of rough."
"Fred mentioned that," George said. "He told me you had a nightmare."
I nodded. "I'm used to them, though. They aren't anything new. I'd even get them when I was with Tom and Martha." I chuckled slightly. "Tom didn't know what to do with himself, especially the first time, so he'd always run to make me a mug of tea."
"Sounds like Tom," George laughed. "I went and got your clothes by the way. From your house—well, I suppose it never felt like yours actually, did it?" He amended quickly. "Sorry."
"It's okay," I said. "Thanks for going."
"We figured we'd head back home later this afternoon," George went on. "Mum wrote this morning—she's anxious to get us all back. And Tom and Martha are anxious to see you. But I don't think there's any need to rush. I thought you may need some time to compose yourself before we go back and you get ambushed."
I nodded. "Yeah, I like that idea. Thanks."
George swallowed and shifted almost awkwardly on the bed. "Um...so do you plan on staying in London once we've gone back?"
"I want to," I said. "But that's why I think I need to go talk to my mother. I have no idea what to do from here."
"Right, but what if she doesn't want to stay in London? What if she wants to stay here?"
"I honestly haven't thought that far ahead," I admitted. "I don't want to stay here, in Salem. I don't think I can, so I hope that's not what she wants. I want a relationship with her, but I also really want to go back to London. I can't imagine being anywhere else." I sighed. "But I haven't even talked to her in depth yet, like I said. I think I should talk to her, just to see what her plans are and what we should do from here." I paused. "You know, Fred essentially asked me the same thing last night. Not directly, but he did ask where the two of us would go from here. I told him I could have a relationship with both him and my mother, which is what I do want, but he still didn't seem all that satisfied and then he changed the subject." I looked up at George. "Does he think I won't stay in London?"
George shrugged. "I mean, everything is a little unsure right now. You don't even know if you'll be staying in London. You say you want to, but what you'll actually decide is a different story. As you said, you haven't even talked to your mother yet. But Fred does want you to stay. You know that right?"
I nodded. And George did have a point. Everything was so unsure. How could I know what I wanted so clearly, but still feel like I had to make some kind of a choice?
"I guess I'll have to talk to my mother first," I sighed. "That's the first step."
"Her room is down the hallway," George said. "Number three hundred."
"How do you know?" I asked in surprise.
"She left you a note this morning. Slipped it under our door." George reached over to the nightstand and passed me the note, scrawled on the complimentary hotel notepad.
"She just wants to talk to me," I said, reading the note. "She probably had the same idea I did." I chewed on my lip for a bit before standing up. "I guess I'd better go talk to her. Will you tell Fred where I've gone?"
George nodded as I stood up, pulled a sweater over the t-shirt I'd slept in the night before, and quickly fixed my hair. Just as I was about to open the door to the hallway, George stopped me.
"Hey, Sophie?" When I turned to look at him, he gave me a small smile. "Good luck."
"Thanks," I answered. I gave him a small smile and nodded before letting myself out of the room and making my way down the hallway. I knocked on the door of my mother's room and she answered a moment later. She was wearing the clothes she'd worn back before Eric had made us change, and I guessed that George had grabbed her things as well as mine when he was at the house last night.
"Hi," she said with a smile. "You came."
I nodded. "I thought we should probably talk."
"We should," she agreed with a nod of her own. "Do you mind if we talk downstairs? The hotel has a restaurant that serves breakfast and I think I need a coffee. You would not believe the headache I have right now."
"I think I would," I said with a quiet chuckle. "I'm no stranger to—"
"Stress headaches?" My mother interrupted. "Me neither." She leaned against the doorframe and smiled. "You probably inherited that from me. Sorry."
I gave her a fleeting smile and shifted awkwardly on my feet. My mother seemed to sense my discomfort and her smile turned into a sad one.
"Come on," she said, pushing away from the wall and tilting her head towards the elevator. "Let's go."
I followed her down to the lobby and into the hotel restaurant, lost in thought. I sat back in my chair and absentmindedly watched as mother ordered a coffee and an order of scrambled eggs.
"And for you?" the waiter asked, turning to me.
I snapped out of my daze. "What?" I asked, blinking up at him as my brain lagged to catch up. I'd been so busy thinking of how this conversation with my mother was going to go that I hadn't been paying attention.
"What would you like to eat or drink?" The waiter clarified.
"Oh, um..." I began.
"You should eat something," my mother said.
I wanted to tell her she was in no place to tell me what I should or shouldn't do, but just then my stomach let out a rumble of hunger. I ended up ordering the same thing my mother had, but chose tea instead of coffee.
"Not a coffee drinker?" My mother asked, leaning back in her seat and smiling slightly at me.
"Not really," I shrugged, fiddling with the napkin and silverware lined up in front of me. "Especially after drinking a mug of tea brewed by Tom or Martha." I started to smile as I let out a quiet laugh. "I don't know how they do it, but they make the best tea. Tom always used to make me a mug after a nightmare, and it always-" I broke off abruptly and looked up at my mother in time to see a flash of pain in her eyes before it was gone. I awkwardly cleared my throat and looked away.
"I'm glad they took such good care of you," my mother whispered. There was a pause before she said, "I'd like to meet them. If that's okay with you."
"You want to meet them?" I asked, looking back up at her. "Why?"
She shrugged. "I want to officially meet the two people who took you in and gave finally gave you what I couldn't—and didn't. I guess I also want to thank them for it. It was a relief to know you were safe and being taken care of by someone. It took a weight off of my own shoulders."
"But how safe was I really?" I asked with a snort. "You and Eric both knew where I was. You even got him into the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley to begin with."
My mother looked away and began to nervously fiddle with her own silverware. "You were safer than you would've been alone and on the streets," she said. "You were more vulnerable traveling around by yourself with nowhere to stay, no food to eat, sleeping out in the open..."
"What does it matter? Like I said, Eric found me anyway. No thanks to you."
My mother pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair, giving me a long, hard look. "And, tell me, was the state you were in before Tom and Martha's care any fit state to be fighting Eric in and winning? You wouldn't have stood a chance. You were too weak. You had a better chance being with them, because you not only became strong enough to fight, both physically and mentally, but you also suddenly had reason to fight."
I was quiet for a moment as I thought about that. She had a point. "What about you, then?" I asked. "What was your excuse? You were never in a state as weak as I was. Why couldn't you get out?"
"I was weak," she whispered. "Mentally, you know? Worn down. Tired. Exhausted. But you were my motivation to keep trying and to keep finding a way away from Eric and back to each other." She paused. "I kept trying to run away, but Eric was...well, you know how he was. And he was worse once you'd gotten away. He was furious you'd gone and he took it out on me."
"What'd he do?" I asked. My mother didn't answer, instead choosing to look down at the tablecloth and run her hand over it, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. I leaned forward and spoke more urgently. "What did he do?"
"It doesn't matter now, Sophie," my mother sighed, her voice exhausted as she finally looked back up at me.
"It does," I said.
She didn't answer right away. Finally: "I thought I was going to die on several occasions in that house. Whether it be from starvation or from being hit or pushed or even from just plain fear. And when I wasn't thinking I was going to die, I was wishing I were dead." She swallowed and met my eyes. "Let's just leave it at that."
I sat there almost dumbly as she let out a heavy sigh. I had realized that Eric's actions would have taken a toll on my mother just as much as they had on me. But hearing her talk about it reminded me even more that she was a victim here too. She hadn't planned for or wanted any of this. She had suffered just as much as I had, if not more, because she also had me to worry about. Her daughter. And she was still suffering knowing that in many ways, I was no longer hers.
The waiter returned just then with my mother's coffee and my cup of tea. My mother sent him a grateful smile before picking up her mug and taking a sip, cradling the warm ceramic in her hands. "I'm also glad Tom and Martha took you in because you deserve to be happy," she said. "You deserve to have a family and friends. Just because I failed you doesn't mean that you shouldn't have a happy life. It's not too late, you know."
I inhaled deeply through my nose. "So...we both want this—" I gestured between the two of us—"to continue, yeah? We both want to try to pick up the broken pieces and jigsaw them back into some form of what we had before?"
My mother nodded. "It's not going to be perfect. I know that. It's going to be cracked and unsteady. And I know that's largely my doing. But yes, I'd like to try and fix it the best we can."
"But you also want to go back to London and meet Tom and Martha?" I asked. Was this decision suddenly going to become a lot simpler than I'd thought?
She nodded. "I would. But...I'm also not sure if I'd like to stay there." She frowned and stared down into her mug. "I think if I stayed, part of me would always feel...excluded. Just because I know you and I can't have the relationship we should have had doesn't mean I like it and it doesn't mean it won't hurt to see you being a family with other people who took care of you better than I did." She shrugged and half smiled. "Besides, I thought I could try to make something work in New York City. That way you could visit me whenever you wanted. We could go ice skating together and see the city. As often as you'd like."
"New York?" I asked. "You mean you'd consider staying here in America permanently? Because it's too painful to stay in London with me? You know that's-"
"My own fault, I know," she answered, coolly. "And probably cowardly, too. But I don't know if I'll even have a place in London. All those people back there who love you--well, I don't expect them to take kindly to me. I saw the way most of them looked at me last night when you told them who I was. Fred looked downright murderous. You and I don't have a life together anymore and I don't want to overstep--"
"You either want this or you don't," I said. "But you can't nurture any sort of new relationship with me from New York while I'm in London. That's a load of crap."
"I agree with you," she said. "Which is why I wanted to start with going back with you. And I do want to meet Tom and Martha. Facing them won't be easy but I have to let them know how grateful I am."
I sighed. "Everyone back in London means the world to me, but I've wondered about you for so long. I managed to numb myself to the pain of not having a mother, but knowing you're alive and knowing the story of what happened—I can't just walk away. I want to give you a chance."
"But you can't—and shouldn't—walk away from the life you've built in London, either," my mother said. I understand that. And you shouldn't walk away from Fred."
"Fred?" I asked, blinking at her.
My mother let out a quiet breath of laughter. "I heard the way you screamed for him at the Proctor house when Eric went upstairs to confront him. I saw the look on your face. And I heard you repeatedly say his name in your sleep. Do you think I don't know what that was?" When I stared at her, she snorted and rolled her eyes slightly. "You're in love with him."
I almost spit out a mouthful of my tea and quickly set the cup down with a shaky clink as I reached for my napkin. "You get all that from me saying his name in my sleep?" I asked. "Or screaming for him because I thought Eric was going to murder him?"
"I saw the pain on your face. I heard it in your voice. I was in love once, too, Sophie. And as you now know, he was not a good man. He was a coward and he was selfish and he did not give a shit about either of us, I'm sorry to say. But that didn't stop me from crying over him until my eyes were puffy and my throat was raw. Now I see that it was time and tears wasted. But Fred...he has jumped through hoops for you, darling. He is a good man. And I don't expect you to want to let him go, nor do I want you to."
"But I told you I don't want to let you walk away either," I said. "And if you don't want to stay in London, that's put me in the position of having to make a choice that I don't want to have to make."
"If I do eventually decide to leave, I will be one Portkey or Apparate away," she said soothingly. "But I'm also in no rush."
I swallowed. "I still don't understand why you can't just stay in London," I said. "You say it's too painful for you, but why don't you make an effort to be in my life by staying? I think you owe it to me at this point."
"Because it wouldn't be the same," she said. "We've discussed this."
"But how can we form any kind of relationship if you move all the way back to America? We can hardly repair anything if you're so far away. And how many times do I have to say that I don't want you to make me choose!"
"And I'm telling you that I don't want you to choose. We both know where you really want to be, and I'm in favor of that. I've already said I want to go back with you and that I'm also not in any sort of rush. I'm not on any sort of timeline. I've considered the idea of New York for some point down the road, but not immediately. I wasn't going to drop in on Tom and Martha for a few short days, then run off again without adequately spending time with you. If we're going to attempt to fix this, it's not going to be done that quickly. I know that. But the point is that I just wasn't sure of what my place would be in London and how well I was going to be accepted. You might decide you don't want me to stay there either. Things may not work out between us. I'm considering options. But first and foremost, I want to focus on you. You and I."
"I agree," I whispered.
"And I don't want to stay here," she went on. "Not in Salem. And I think that's something else we can both agree on. So for now, I would like to go to London with you and see how that goes. Figure ourselves out there, where you don't have to give up everything else." She leaned forward and put a hand on my arm. "I'm not deserting you again. I will stay for as long as feels right. And even if I leave, you can always find me again. There will be no more lies and no more secrets. If I tell you I'm going to be somewhere, that is where I'll be and you are welcome to write to me and visit me as often as you like and I will always be there."
"You promised that once before," I said, unable to help the fact that my throat had constricted.
"I know you want to prevent yourself from getting hurt again," my mother said. "You don't want to be made a fool of by making the mistake of trusting me only for me to hurt you again. And on some level, that's probably smart. But you also said you want this. You want to spend time together. And if you keep up all your walls and barricades and force fields, that's only going to make you lonely and exhausted. Besides, if you keep making assumptions about people, you may miss out on something wonderful. If you acted solely on an assumption of Fred that was based off of the fact that he owns a joke shop, you wouldn't have gotten to know him or his family." She paused for a moment. "Do you remember when you were young and I let you help me trim the rose bushes in the flower garden behind Ropes Mansion?"
I nodded. "I do."
"I told you I'd let you trim off one rose to take home if you helped me. And you were afraid to touch them because of the thorns. So I gave you your own pair of gardening gloves that were too big for your small hands. I told you to be careful and showed you just how to do it without getting pricked. And you got the hang of it, despite your initial fear. And at the end of the day, we walked home while you held that beautiful flower by the stem, carefully placing your fingers between the thorns. We put it in a vase at home and put it beneath the window. When the sun hit it just right, the red of the petals was the most vibrant and beautiful red I've ever seen."
"It was pretty," I admitted.
"And we would have missed out on seeing that every day if you had acted on your fear of getting hurt. If you had let your fear decide for you, we wouldn't have taken that flower home. But instead, we acted cautiously, but also bravely. Intelligently, but without letting fear control our every decision. Because if we do that, we miss out on a lot of good things in life." She sat back in her chair and smiled at me as I remained still, sitting there in thoughtful silence. Our food arrived a moment later, snapping me from my thoughts.
As I ate my scrambled eggs, I knew this was my mother's way of asking for the same thing Fred had asked of me. That I trust her and let her in. And if I did, I might just end up being pleasantly surprised.
