I usually don't put the author's notes at the beginning of the chapter, but I need to put up some trigger warnings for this chapter: Suicide attempt (at the end of the chapter), heavy angst, and major character death. If you can't read this chapter because of any of these warnings, I'm sending you lots of hugs. Two alternate endings to this fic will be posted, hopefully soon.
May 1st/2nd, 1998
There was a ringing in her ears. A buzzing of white noise that wouldn't let up, no matter what she does. Alyna groans as she gets to her feet, trying to blink away the spots and dizziness that clouds her vision. It doesn't work.
There is dust in the air. In her eyes. Something warm trickles down the side of her face. Her fingers come away red and sticky.
Blood.
Alyna looks down at her hands. Her head hurts and shivers at the cold that wraps around her, freezes her to the bone. There shouldn't be a draft this high up. Not-
"Merlin's Beard," Alyna swears softly, staring. The entire side of the castle... The entire side of the castle is gone, half the corridor with it. She can see the fighting down below, spells flying, and screams that echo up to where she's standing.
Why was she up here and not down there again?
She crouches to pick up her wand, eyes falling on the rubble blocking the rest of the corridor. She came to look for someone… Her eyes widen.
Fred. "Fred!" Alyna rushes to the debris, shouting. Hoping, praying that he can hear her. That he's safe. That he's okay. "Fred, where-"
A bolt of red light slams into the stone at her side.
Alyna spins, throwing up a shield charm in time to block the Death Eater's next spell. He's alone, silver mask cracked halfway, revealing a strong jawline shadowed by his hood. Alyna can't see who it is, but there's something familiar about the way he moves. How he walks.
Her own spells fly through the air, colliding with his as the stunning spells turn green, and suddenly they're not sparring, but fighting to the death. Alyna ducks behind a bit of fallen debris, panting. A spell hits the wall across from her and another. He's getting closer.
I have to move.
Taking a breath to steel herself, she fires another stunning spell at the Death Eater and throws herself behind the crumbling ruins of a gargoyle. There's a clatter, the sound of something heavy falling to the ground. Quiet falls. Alyna peeks around the edge of the statue, tightening her grip on her wand.
The Death Eater is sprawled on the ground, silver mask thrown askew, broken into three pieces.
Alyna eyes the staircase behind him, keeping her wand up as she tries to get to it. To get off the floor, to find Fred and tell him- "Andrew?"
"Oh Merlin." Alyna stumbles back, her heart racing and tries to make sense of things. She was seeing things. She was seeing- this couldn't be- it couldn't be him. Not Andrew. He wouldn't side with You-Know-Who. He-
But she doesn't know her brother, what he would and wouldn't do. He tore her house tie to shreds. Had made sure she knew how much he despised her every chance he had. The letters and snide comments. Letting her fall again and again and-
"They said something about Andrew. The Carrows. I think- I think he's in trouble."
Alyna keeps to the wall, trying to stop her fear from creeping in. Be brave Alyna.
Be brave.
The torches that are still burning somehow gutter suddenly, an icy blast of wind barreling through the castle as a cold, high voice echoes. Alyna stumbles and falls, pressing her back to the ruins of a wall and covers her ears against the noise. Against the voice that worms its way into her mind, making her feel cold all over. Violated.
Across the way, Andrew's fingers twitch.
Alyna can't see, can't breathe past the band in her chest. The ever-tightening noose of darkness and pain. The demons she can't seem to fully escape no matter how fast she runs.
Be brave.
Alyna doesn't want to be brave right now. She doesn't want to be good. To do the 'right thing' and find someone to help him because he's Imperioused. Maybe. She doesn't even know for sure.
He groans. Her breath tightens.
What she does know is that she has to find Fred.
Be brave.
Alyna pushes herself to her feet, wand in hand and walks away.
The torches flicker back to life.
Alyna pushes her way into the Great Hall, sucking in a breath.
There are so many bodies. More than she thought there would be. The hall is hushed, a heavy grey cloud hangs over the space. All over, there are people talking in hushed whispers. Some crying, others reuniting with bare sparks of hope. There were stations for those who need medical attention. She should probably go to have someone look at her, the throbbing in her head.
But she wants to find them first. Fred and Remus and George and the others. She has to find them before she does anything else.
She's stopped by Professor Sprout, who sees the look in her eyes and wraps her into a hug, all warm and familiar. She still smells like the greenhouse under the dust and sweat and ashes. Alyna tells her about the students in the Hufflepuff Common Room, and Professor Sprout promises to send someone to get them
"They're over there, dearest," Professor Sprout says, pointing a few rows over. There's grief in her eyes, hanging as heavy as the clouds above, and she hugs Alyna tighter before stepping away.
Alyna sees the flash of red, familiar features obscured slightly by the crowds of people and she stops herself from bursting into a run, from sprinting and pulling him into a hug. But as she rounds a line of the dead, her eyes fall on someone else. One something else.
"No."
It was a whisper, the broken sound that escapes her. All of her worst dreams at once. Ice and heat and darkness all at once. The infinite horrors of her nightmares come to life. Alyna chokes on the sob, trying to hold onto the shards of her sanity. Of herself.
"No," she holds onto her sleeves tightly, staring down at Remus' body. At Tonks. The people who had taken her in, accepted her as family. As one of their own no matter how broken she was. "R-Remus. Tonks. No."
Alyna feels herself sway, her breath hitching. Catching. The tears spill over, tracking through the grit on her face.
Cold. Harsh. Icy grief rushes through her. They couldn't be- couldn't be dead. Couldn't be gone.
Gone.
Just- gone.
Any minute and they'll wake up. Remus will smile and she'll tell him about the perfect Patronus she cast. Any minute.
But the minutes pass and they don't wake up. They don't wake up. They don't-
A hand touches her shoulder gently. "Alyna?"
Dimly, she recognizes the voice. Hears it. Feels it wash over her, but she can't look away from Remus. She didn't know when she fell to her knees at his side.
"Alyna?" The voice comes again. Hermione Granger, her mind attaches the name to the voice. The words soften and Alyna feels her crouch down behind her.
Alyna's voice splinters around the tears as she turns and buries her face in Hermione's shoulder. She can't breathe. Can't think. Can't feel anything besides the crushing guilt that builds and builds and builds. "I need-"
Her eyes rise, searching. Lands on a familiar figure in the background. She pushes to her feet, heart pounding. Head spinning as she reaches him and pulls him towards her.
He's crying. Why is he crying?
"Fred, I-"
Tears spill over again on Fred's face.
There's no scar over his left eye.
This is George, not Fred.
But why is he crying? She can see Ron and Molly and Arthur and Bill and Charlie behind him, so why is he- why is he…
"George," her voice trembles, "where's Fred?"
George shakes his head.
"Where's Fred?" Alyna tries stepping past him, but he grabs her by the shoulders and stops her. "Where's Fred? George- George, stop it, you-you're scaring me." She struggles against him. "Where is he?"
George gives, entire body caving at the mention of his brother. He lets her push him out of the way. Push her way forward, past Ron and Charlie as dread bubbles and rises.
No, no. It can't be. It can't be- He can't be-
Alyna chokes.
Stumbles back. Falls.
And breaks.
No, no no no no. There's nothing. The grief, the pain, the exhaustion, it disappears. All fading into a hollowed numbness. Shades of grey and black flickering in and out of her vision.
She can't breathe. The weight pressing her down, deeper and deeper. She can't breathe. Alyna falls to her knees besides Fred, cupping his face with both her hands. "Fred, Fred, wake up. Fred, wake up."
Alyna presses her face to Fred's chest. A sob escapes her, broken and scraped raw. She fists a hand in his shirt, pleading to anyone listening for a heartbeat, a pulse. A shred of warmth to show that he isn't gone. That he isn't…
"I love you," she whispers between teardrops and shuddering breaths. "I love you, Fred Weasley, with all my heart. I love you."
June 4th, 1998
"You remember when you 'forgot' your tie in our dorm and took Fred's instead?" George wraps an arm around Alyna's shoulders, studying the fireplace. There's a quietness to the words. It's rare that George brings up Fred unannounced, without prompting. Most days he doesn't leave their- his bedroom.
Alyna tucks her knees to her chest and nods, her cocoa sitting untouched in front of her. The memory tugs at the corner of her lips, but the smile fades as soon as it comes. Grief wraps around her tightly. "I remember. Professor McGonagall docked us both nearly fifty house points each."
"You remember Ron?" George doesn't lift his eyes from the fire, shoulders sinking low as his words do. "We had… We had a Quidditch match that day."
Ron raises his eyes to them both. He says nothing, eyes red. "Sure."
"We're lucky it wasn't Professor Snape," Alyna says, keeping the words soft. It's moments like these where she sees the flicker of light in George's eyes come back. She wishes there was more she could do. But grief is a tricky thing to fight. It twists and turns and does what you least expect of it. "He would've-"
"You should have saved him."
"What?" Alyna frowns at Ron, afraid she heard him wrong.
"You should have saved him. Fred. You had the chance," Ron spits at her, eyes lit with the anger of grief. "Get out." He points to the door. "Get out Alyna."
A chill washes over Alyna, a bucket of cold water splashed over her senses. She stills where she's sitting next to George. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. How can you sit here, with George, with me, with mum, when you just stood there and let him die? You saw the Death Eater, you said so. You said you could've stopped it." His voice is trembling with the force of the words, the loaded hate and rage that thread them. There are tears in his eyes. "Get. Out."
The air explodes. Debris rains down. She gets thrown back, a distant blur of red hair getting obscured by rock. Blood on her face.
"Ron." George's voice is low. "Sit down you idiot."
"No," Alyna swallows. She shakes her head and gets to her feet, tilting her chin up. "He's right George. Maybe... Maybe I should go. I'm too much of a distraction, aren't I? I didn't mean- I never meant to cause harm."
Ron points at the door, eyes red-rimmed. "Go."
And she goes, without another word. Not a goodbye, not another word. She leaves. Walks out the door and into the night.
"What the bloody hell was that?" George turns on his brother, narrowing his gaze. "She's hurting as much as us. You don't think it's hard to sit with her when I keep expecting Fred-" Emotion clogs his throat, dropping his hands to his lap.
Ron stares at George and sits down slowly. He blinks once. Twice. The rage and anger that had been there moments ago, vanishes, fading back into the dark pit of grief. Puts his head in his hands and his voice trembles, "what've I done?"
Alyna walks. Doesn't Disapparates. She walks through the fields surrounding the Burrow, numb and unfeeling.
"You should have saved him. You had the chance. Get out. Get out!"
"I should have saved him." She stops in a clearing a little way away from the Burrow. Far enough. It's far enough. Alyna holds the wand under her chin and closes her eyes. "I should have saved him."
The night breeze lifts her hair, kisses away her tears with the gentlest touch. She leans into it; the sweet caress and she doesn't know if she imagines it or not- the faintest smell of hot cocoa and burnt sugar.
Another piece of her heart breaks off, shatters into a hundred thousand pieces.
She looks behind her. The Burrow is a blot on the horizon, barely visible in the dark. They'll be able to see the flash of green light. Maybe. But she can't bring herself to care.
Her hands are shaking. Trembling. She can barely breathe, barely see through the tears.
"You should have saved him. You had the chance. Get out. Get out!"
Alyna readjusts the grip on her wand. The heaviness is a tangible thing, crushing her into the earth. A noose that never stops tightening. One that gets smaller and smaller until it sings softly in her ear to close her eyes and give in. Let go.
To go gently into that goodnight.
"We're the ones who make it good, who make the laughs. We do. And it's wicked. Alyna, come down."
"I can't," she whispers brokenly to the darkness and the demons in her mind. "I can't. Not this time Fred. I can't come down." A tear rolls down her cheek. "I- I'm sorry."
She's not scared, far from it. She's tired. Exhausted of the numbness, the ache that isn't going away, no matter how many days pass and jokes she cracks. The façade has been crumbling for days. And this breaking has been a long time coming.
She just wants it to be over. The blissful nothingness for the rest of eternity.
Merlin, she's so tired.
Fred, Remus, I'll see you soon.
The words come readily in her mind, without hesitation. "Avada-"
"Expelliarmus!"
Her wand flies from her grip, landing distantly and the end of the spell dies on her lips. Alyna opens her eyes and stares down at her hand blankly. Her empty hand.
Exhaustion, heavy as an anvil crashes into her, sweeping her up in its arms as her knees give out. I can't even kill myself properly. She drops her head forward, empty of everything. Numb. Drained and void.
Not even the universe will let her die in peace.
Footsteps echo from behind, but the sound fades into buzzing, distant white noise. Hands wrap around her, pulling her tight, pulling her close. Toffee, woodsmoke, and cinnamon. So familiar, yet completely foreign.
George.
"Sometimes, I don't know what goes through that kid's head," George tucks her against his chest, reigning in the burning fear he felt. He brushes her hair back, his words warm and soft. "He shouldn't have said that. Any of that. We know it wasn't your fault."
Alyna doesn't say anything, trying to regain the feeling in her fingers. In her mind.
"Love, you're a part of the family," George looks down at her, his words quieting. "I'm not going to let you go. Not ever." I can't lose you too, are the words he leaves unspoken, lingering in the air between them. "We'll figure this out. Together. You're not alone Alyna, not anymore."
Alyna hiccups, burying her face in George's chest. "Okay." She closes her eyes again, fingers curling into his shirt. Letting him ground her. Toffee, woodsmoke, and cinnamon. "Alright."
"Alyna, come down."
Hi guys,
So here is where we come to the end of Fred and Alyna's story (for now, if you're planning on reading the alternate endings). I really hope you all enjoyed this because I enjoyed writing it for you. I want to thank everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed- you're all amazing. Thank you!
Thank you for following Fred and Alyna on this adventure.
For those of you that need to hear it: "On the days you despair, you must remember- even the darkest night must end at sunrise."
You are worth your fight.
Love you with all my heart,
Liz
PSA-
The two alternate endings are in the process of being written (one fluffy, one angst) and I'll be posting them in the end as chapters 7+8 of this story, so keep an eye out for them :)