"Oh, no!" I rush into the Common Room when I see the twins.
"What?" Fred perks up.
"Exams are still on!" I cry out, slamming a pile of textbooks down on the little table in the center of the room.
"Yeah, so?" George chuckles.
"So?! I never would have guessed with the castle how it is! Oh, I'm gonna fail," I moan into my hands.
"Hey, you're gonna do just fine," George tries to assure me.
"Yeah! You're loads smarter than us, and we never studied! We passed almost every time!" Fred exclaims as though it will make me feel better.
I just scowl at them. "Please, please help me study!"
"Oh, alright," Fred sighs. "How many official constellations are there?"
"88," I reply quickly.
"When was the first known use of the Wand-Lighting Charm?" George pipes in.
"The 18th century," I answer.
"What wand movement do you use for the Wand-Extinguishing Charm?" "Flick of the wand or a slight jab in any direction."
"Uses for Centaur Tears?"
"They are the favorite drink of most plants, capable of reviving a plant moments from death, and they are a healthy watering option for freshwater plants only."
"Which war took place in the 1500s in which many wizards and witches died in an effort to protect the ancient secrets of wandlore from Muggles who sought to acquire it?"
"Wand Wars."
"Why did Muggle tolerance for potions and elixirs fade?"
"The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy of 1689 brought separation from magic that caused tolerance of Muggles to fade."
"Name the four branches of Transfiguration." "Transformation, Conjuration, Vanishing, and Untransformation."
"Yep, you're all good," Fred shakes his head in disbelief at the way I just rattled off the answers.
"I still feel nervous," I sit down on the couch between them, running my fingers through my hair, making it messy.
"Don't be, Love. You're gonna do great," Fred comforts me, and I let him, burying my head in his shoulder.
"Thanks," I murmur, just wanting to fall asleep.
"I think someone needs a nap," George chuckles, rubbing between my shoulder blades.
I make some kind of incoherent noise and feel my eyelids grow heavy, and then, all of a sudden, I'm in George's arms being carried upstairs. I'm asleep before he gets me to the bed.
The day starts out with me very excited, practically giddy. Upon waking, I roll over on top of George so that I'm laying on his chest, my face inches from his as he lets out a soft grunt and his eyes flutter open.
"Rey?" he asks, startled by my presence on top of him.
"Today's the day, George," I grin.
"What day?" he chuckles lightly, shoving me off him and back to my own spot on the bed.
"The day the Mandrakes are ready and Hermione will be back," I've never grinned so wide.
"I nearly forgot," he grins back. "You excited?"
"What a horrid question! Of course I am!" I laugh lightly, rolling out of bed.
George is a step behind me, both of us in delightful moods.
Those won't last long.
When we got the news originally that a student had been taken into the Chamber, of course we were shocked. However, that's nothing compared to the news we've just received about the identity of said student. Ginny.
Both the twins are white as ghosts, looking as though their worst nightmares have been realized.
"You're alright. It's alright," I coo, grabbing their hands and pulling them back up to Gryffindor Tower, despite the fact that I'm quite certain nothing will ever be alright again.
Sitting them down in a corner of the Common Room, I go to fix them some tea. Then, bringing it back to them, along with some biscuits, I try to soothe them.
"Hey, the school is doing everything in their power to get your sister back," I assure them. Their eyes don't even glance at me.
So, I take a seat on the floor in front of them, not wanting to separate the two, and I simply wait and see if they're going to talk. I rack my brain for what to say, but, with them, I've never been the comforter. Only the comforted.
"Just… Can I do anything?" I ask.
Both boys shake their heads, and we lapse into silence once more. There we sit for hours in complete silence until Harry and Ron join us. We exchange "hellos", but then we fall into quiet once more.
It's uncomfortable for me. I don't know what to do or say. I know how I like to be comforted, but I'm not like them. I'm a crier and a scene-maker. When I'm upset, I become so visibly and often audibly. Not like them, with their pale blank faces and zoned-out stares. They are in a permanent state of looking as though they've just seen a ghost.
At sunset, the boys wordlessly head upstairs, me trailing behind them silently like a lost puppy. Completely silently, George hands me my pajamas and opens the curtains of his four-poster so I can climb in and get changed. Then, within minutes, he opens them back up and climbs in with me.
Then, the boy who never cries lets out a horrible sob. It's as though a dam has burst, and his tears become uncontrollable. This I know how to deal with.
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I embrace him tightly. Then, I raise one of my hands to card them through his messy hair, my whole heart breaking all over again. I cannot let myself cry. I have to be the strong one this time.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry," I coo over and over in his ear.
"She's not alright. She's my baby sister, and I couldn't save her. She's my baby sister, and she's not alright," he sobs heavily.
"Hey, hey. I'm here. You're alright. You're gonna be alright. You couldn't have done anything. I'm here. I'm sorry, George. I'm sorry, Love," I speak soothingly, planting tiny kisses along his cheekbones and jawline, over his eyelids and on top of his nose.
"I'm here. I love you. Don't cry," I mumble, basically just trying to keep my own tears back.
I let George cry against me, soothing him until the tears eventually dry.
"I'm so worried, Rey," he mumbles, looking deeply into my eyes. His own normally rich brown eyes are bloodshot red.
"I know, Love, but it'll work out. It will always work out. And I'm here. I will always be here," I murmur, running my fingers through his fiery locks again.
Within minutes, we've fallen asleep.