A/N: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed! I'm getting really busy, so I might be crunching to get the last 4 chapters out and finish this within the next few days, with maybe more than one chapter per day.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 7

Cold.

Angelina shifted in her bed, pulling her covers up to her neck. The house was freezing and it was only the beginning of fall. Even in the middle of the night, it was never this cold. Maybe she forgot to close the windows. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

She opened her eyes and couldn't see anything. There was no moonlight shining into her window. Angelina could only make out dull, grey, lifeless clouds, completing the empty feeling that was overcoming her. She crept to the window, goosebumps breaking out all over her skin, as she stumbled towards the window in her pajamas. Running into something hard, she felt a sharp pain in her leg, but was confused as the crash was muffled. Suffocating silence filled the air, and she grasped blindly at her window, which was closed.

Panicking, she hastily located her still useless wand and the mirror and walked quickly and cautiously to her mother's room.

"Lumos." She muttered. A dull light ignited at the tip of her wand. At least it was something. Angelina opened the door to her mother's room.

The bed was empty.

Dread pounded in the pit of her stomach as she turned around and clambered down the stairs. The sound of hoarse, rattling breathing grew loudly with each stair.

"Mum!" Angelina shrieked, her cry almost getting lost in the darkness.

Maria stood in her ragged nightgown and grey woolen shawl around her shoulders looking obliviously out the open picture window in the sitting room. She was wearing a serene, faraway look on her face, as if the feelings of hopelessness and depression were not having any effect on her.

The stormy sky outside was full of swarming Dementors.

"Mum! What are you doing?" Angelina cried, running to her mother and trying to pull her away from the window. She seemed glued to the spot.

"Samuel!" Her mother moaned. The dim wand light that fell on her old, weary face revealed a myriad of tears streaming silently down her face.

Dementors outside were gliding closer to the house, their drawing breathes becoming deafeningly loud.

Angelina reached for the window, struggling to shut it with all her might. As she pulled, Fred's mirror fell silently from her fingers and lay gleaming, almost hidden under the sofa. Suddenly a frail hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled Angelina away from the window with surprising strength.

"Mum!" Angelina yelled, struggling with the old woman who she had been watching over a year.

"Angelina, don't get in my way." Maria said, her voice stable and her determined eyes telling Angelina that she was completely lucid.

Then it dawned on her. Her mother wanted the Dementors to come; she wanted them to suck out her soul.

"Mother, you don't have to do this! Everything is alright—you're going to see Dad again someday!" Angelina exclaimed, still trying to force her away from the window.

But at the mention of her late husband, Maria froze and stared suddenly at Angelina as if she was a child.

"Yes, dear. It will be ok. Daddy will be home from work soon." The woman smiled sweetly and then froze, as a sharp chill filled the room. Angelina, who had been looking at her mother with tears in her eyes, looked to see the Dementors flocking about the window.

"Mom, run!" Angelina shouted, trying to steer her away from the Dementors.

Maria was frozen stiff. The hopelessness and loss she was feeling was written on her face, as a Dementor glided through the window, sucking on the air around them.

A cold sweat was breaking out on Angelina, feeling her happiness being sucked out of her and her mother as four Dementors floated around the sitting room, feasting on the happiness that remained intact in the two battle-scarred women.

Thoughts weren't making sense in her mind, which was numb with sadness. Her arm feeling heavy, Angelina lifted her wand.

"Protego." She said, a faint shield expanding between a Dementor and her mother. The Dementor floated through it like it wasn't there; even a strong Shield Charm wouldn't have held it off.

"Expecto…" Angelina said weakly. She had never been able to make a corporeal Patronus in Dumbledore's Army. And now when there were no happy memories she could grasp and she couldn't do proper magic with her wand anyway, she felt she could hardly get the words out. "Expecto…"

The room was getting duller. She fought to stay conscious. A Dementor was feasting away on her happiness. The rattling breathing was all she could hear. She fell to her knees and backed up against the wall. And then she saw her mother.

Three of the four Dementors were swarming around her body like flies feasting on decaying flesh; Maria was lying on the ground, barely conscious.

"Sam… Sam…" Her mother whispered, speaking to herself the only name that mattered to her. She let out a scream and was shaking all over. Angelina could hardly imagine the horror she was reliving.

"Expecto Patronum…" Angelina said. A whisper of silver vapor came from her wand. "Expecto Patronum!" She cried, mustering all of her emotion on life at Hogwarts—flying with the Quidditch team, sharing a dorm with her friend Alicia, no wars going on, and being with Fred. But would she ever see Fred again? She needed to believe that she would. A small silver shield presented itself in front of her from her wand. It was repelling the lone Dementor away from her. But she needed to get rid of the Dementors attacking her mum.

Through the shield, she saw a Dementor lower it's hood. It was going to suck out her mother's soul. Angelina's insides went numb, as if she swallowed an ice cube. The Patronus shield flickered and vanished. The two other Dementors that were feasting on her mom's emotions seemed to realize that she was going to be finished by the other Dementor, and they glided through the room at Angelina, joining the one that was repelled by the shield.

And then she saw it. The hoodless Dementor—without the dark hood it normally bore, it's head was a mound of grey rotting skin, with two dead holes for empty eye sockets It lowered it's mouth to Maria's and consumed half of her face with a cavernous opening of darkness and depression.

Angelina's vision became blurred, and through the rattling breathes, she thought she heard a voice calling her name right before the room was engulfed in darkness.

Her limbs felt heavy and her head felt light and dizzy. Angelina felt herself drenched in cold sweat and slowly opened her eyes. The light that met her was blinding and she shut her eyes, seeing little red lights in her eyelids. After a moment she opened them again, and saw that she was looking up at the ceiling of a room, with rafters above. She turned her head to see messy belongings strewn all about. She was in Fred's room.

She looked on the other side of the room and saw she was not alone. A man was sitting in a chair beside the bed. He had his ginger head in his head and looked lost. Perhaps this was what made him look so unfamiliar. He was shaking uncontrollably. He looked older.

Though Angelina felt like she was charged down by a hippogriff and wasn't quite sure what was going on or what day it was, she knew the man sobbing in the chair by her bed was indeed the man she loved.

She lifted a heavy hand off the bed and reached out to touch Fred's knee. He looked up immediately at the contact and a huge smile broke out onto his watery face.

"Angel." He breathed a sigh of relief. He squeezed her hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss it repeatedly. "It's ok. Everything's going to be fine." He said fervently, like it was his prayer.

She looked at him, taking in the sight. He was pale and tear-stricken, but it was Fred Weasley. She thought bizarrely that this was the first time she was seeing him—was able to touch him—since Dumbledore's death. Angelina looked at the table next to him and saw two mirrors lying next to each other. She remembered.

"What happened, Fred?" She whispered, trying to sit up.

"Don't try and move." He said, gently having her lie down again. "Everything's fine."

"But there were… Dementors. In the house… what happened? How am I here?" She asked, looking around impatiently. Something wasn't right.

"I called your name in the mirror and you weren't answering. I knew something had to be wrong, so I apparated there and saw the Dementors around you…" He hesitated, the weight of bad news written all over his face. "And I cast a Patronus Charm to send them away and brought you here. It's been a few hours since then."

"Where's mum?" She said weakly, tears already leaking from the corners of her eyes. "I want to see her." She sat, propelling herself out of bed, automatically feeling dizzy and nauseous. Fred caught her as she swayed.

"Sit down, Angel." He steered her to the bed again, with a look of such overwhelming compassion and grief. Angelina burst into heavy tears, the weight of the past few hours crashing down. All the sadness the Dementors brought was returning. His look confirmed the worst. "It was too late. By the time I got there, she was gone." Fred sat down behind her, wrapping her heaving body in his arms.

This was the horrors the war brought. Angelina cried, holding onto the warmth of Fred's love, as he held her, and somehow knowing the worst was still yet to come.

"I'm here for you, Angel. We still have each other. I'll always be here."

A/N: I'm starting to feel like I'm being incredibly mean! Writing that even brings tears to my eyes. (Sorry!) Gosh, J.K. Rowling! Why Fred?! Why?! That was horribly cruel. (That part would have still had the desired effect if it was Percy instead… Grrrr… Although the pages of my book might be drier and more legible.)