Chapter 3/Trapped at Aunt Muriel's

We landed in a sitting room that was unfamiliar to me. I was still slightly shaken from the abrupt ending of the wedding. I noticed I was still holding the twins' hands and let go quickly. They didn't seem to notice. Moving away they flopped down on the sofa in perfect unison. I perched delicately on the arm of a chair.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Aunt Muriel's," they said together.

"I thought you didn't like her," I said suspiciously.

George looked over at Fred. "Yeah, why here of all places?"

"It was the first place I could think of," said Fred defensively.

"Well, if she has owls I'm not complaining."

"Owls?" I asked, confused.

"For a delivery service—" Fred said.

"—For orders—"

"—For the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"You're going to run an owl-order service for your joke shop while the rest of the Wizarding World is fighting against You-Know-Who?" I asked incredulously.

The twins shared a glance before turning back to face me.

"Yeah." They said together.

I shook my head in a hopeless manner, but I was grinning which ruined the effect. I nearly fell off my perch however, when an old woman suddenly Apparated into the room.

"I thought it might be you two!" She screeched at Fred and George. "Fancy Apparating into my house without my permission and then not even bothering to put protective charms around it." She hobbled over to where I was sitting so precariously on the arm of her chair. "Move over girl and let me sit, I'm a hundred and seven you know and need to get off my feet."

I moved away quickly. The woman, whom I assumed to be the infamous Aunt Muriel, sank into the chair and then turned to me, glaring.

"Who are you?" She snapped.

"I-I'm Angela Barry," I stammered, looking to the twins to help me. They were sniggering in their hands. I scowled. No help there.

"Ah yes, you're the girl Ginevra keeps chattering on about. Engaged to a Malfoy aren't you?"

I nodded apprehensively. "Yes."

She snorted. "Well I wonder what that says about you. Can't trust those Malfoys to value anything good."

I flushed. "If you're wondering what side I'm on, I support Dumbledore wholeheartedly."

Fred and George gave resounding cheers. Aunt Muriel sniffed self-righteously.

"Well, even he went a bit batty there at the end," she said.

"Oi!" Fred leaped to his feet. "Don't talk about Dumbledore like that, you old bat!"

"Yeah!" George stood also. "Dumbledore was a spiffing chap. Right to the very end."

Aunt Muriel puffed her chest in indignation. "Don't you use that tone with me Fredrick and George. Or I'll have a mind to write to your mother!"

I pressed my hand to my forehead. "Your mother! I can't believe I forgot! She must be worried sick."

Getting out my wand I conjured up my happiest memory.

"Expecto Patronum!" I said clearly.

A silvery mist emerged from the tip of my wand and slowly took the form of a slender, silver unicorn. I stepped up to it.

"Take a message to Arthur Weasley," I whispered to it. "Tell him this: Weasels four and five are safe, as well as Aunt one oh seven and the berry angel."

I stepped back and my unicorn galloped away. I stared after it, the familiar bittersweet sadness filling me.

"Why a unicorn?" I heard George ask behind me.

"I used to be a gazelle. That was my favorite animal when I was younger."

"Why did it change?"

I turned to face them. Aunt Muriel was uncharacteristically silent. Fred and George were watching me expectantly. I gave them a small smile.

"Cedric's wand had a unicorn hair in it," I said softly, "and his Patronus was a unicorn as well."

Fred and George exchanged knowing glances. Aunt Muriel looked skeptical.

"Who's Cedric?" She croaked. "I thought the Malfoy boy's name was Dracus or something."

"Draco," I said automatically. I moved over and sat down on the sofa, resting my head in my hands. The couch sank lower as George sat beside me. He patted my back comfortingly. I gave him a watery smile.

"Cedric Diggory was Angie's best friend." Fred explained Aunt Muriel, strangely solemn. "He died three years ago."

"He was more than her best friend," George added.

"I loved him," I whispered. "I suppose I still do."

"Well, obviously," Fred said. "Your Patronus didn't turn into a ferret."

I glared at him as George snickered. Aunt Muriel looked me shrewdly.

"You need to move on girl," she announced. "No sense wasting your life away over some dead boy."

I felt my cheeks flush in anger but I kept myself from blowing. "I'm marrying Malfoy. How far in moving on is that?" Even I could hear the bitterness in my voice.

There was silence for a few moments. I shook off George's hand and Aunt Muriel snapped out of her pout.

"Well, you can't stay in those clothes," she said. "Go upstairs and put on something appropriate. And get the girl some clothes as well."

At that moment a Patronus appeared in front of us. It was a weasel and when it spoke it had Mr. Weasley's voice.

"Rest of the family safe, do not reply, we are being watched."

We watched silently as the weasel disappeared. I suddenly smiled wearily.

"Well, that's good."

"Yeah," the twins echoed.

We didn't wait to find out what Aunt Muriel would say. Together we trudged up the stairs. A portrait on the wall glared at us through one eye as he dozed in a rocking chair. When we reached the top of the stairs we were confronted with three doors. We stood there for a moment.

"Um, I've never been here before so . . ."

"Oh," Fred seemed to realize my predicament. He pointed to the door on the left of the door on front of us. "That's the room the girls sleep in when they come here. There should be some of Ginny's stuff in there. We'll be in this room," here he pointed to the door on the right of the door in front of us, "if you need anything."

I nodded. "Thanks."

He nodded abruptly and entered the room. George was looking at me bug-eyed. I frowned.

"What?" I asked irritably.

George nodded at the door Fred and just gone through and nodded his head encouragingly. I groaned.

"Now?" I hissed.

George nodded harder.

"Fine," I growled.

Pushing past him I knocked on the open door. "Fred?" I called. "It's Angela, can I come in?"

There was a pause. I heard a crash, a muffled yelp and curse. I winced and looked at George. He was snickering. I gave him a look and flounced into the room. What I saw stopped me cold in my tracks. I screwed up my face for a second before cracking up with laughter. George rushed into the room to see what I was splitting my sides about. When he saw what I was looking at he started laughing so hard he fell flat onto the floor and rolled around, tears of mirth coursing down his cheeks.

Fred had apparently just been changing his clothes when I knocked. At my knock he had jumped in surprise, tripping into the cupboard where several outfits hung on hangers. The clothes fell on top of him and since he couldn't see, he had tripped getting out of the cupboard. And I could see why he had tripped in the first place and why his face was now burning as red as his hair as he tried to cover up his embarrassment with a scowl. His pants were wrapped around his ankles and bright blue underpants were displayed for all to see.

George sat up, tried to speak, but fell back down again in laughter. Fred scrambled around in the clothes, trying to find the pants that were connected to his legs. All I could do was suck in deep breaths of air, my sides aching. He finally pulled his pants up and I calmed down enough to force out a garbled, "Sorry about that Fred," before bursting out in giggles. Fred's frown slowly relaxed and soon he was laughing just as hard as his twin. Before long we were all rolling on the floor laughing. A loud rapping was heard underneath us.

"Stop that infernal racket!" Aunt Muriel shrieked. "I'm trying to sleep, I'm a hundred and seven you know and need my rest!"

We sobered just enough to give each other a grin before sniggering in our hands for a while longer.

A few minutes later found us with our backs against the floorboard of the bed, staring at the pile of clothes that now graced the floor in front of the cupboard, Fred on my left, George on my right. We were still in our wedding attire although my hair had long since come out of its elegant twist. My dress was rumbled and dirty and even torn in a few places. Fred and George didn't look much better.

I felt a wave of exhaustion flow through me. Yawning deeply I felt my head tilt to the side as it suddenly felt too heavy to hold up. My ear came in contact with Fred's shoulder rather sharply and my half closed eyes shut completely in pain.

"Owww . . ." I mumbled.

"You look tired," I heard George state.

"Oh really?" I muttered. "How could you tell?"

Fred shifted under my head and I felt him lift me up in his arms. My head wobbled slightly before I got it rested back on his shoulder.

"You smell like cinnamon," I mumbled and heard a snicker to my right.

I vaguely remember Fred carrying me to the next room and laying me on the large bed. I muttered a few incoherent phrases before blacking out completely. I don't remember anything after that.

When I woke up I found myself still in my Yule Ball gown but tucked under the covers very snugly. I had no idea how I had gotten there. The last thing I remembered was Fred picking me up. I sat up slowly and looked around the room.

"Good morning sunshine!" An old woman on the wall across from me called cheerfully from her portrait. "You'd better get up soon. Breakfast is being made."

I slowly pushed back the covers and swung my legs around to touch the floor.

"Did I really sleep all night?" I asked, rolling my neck to get the kinks out.

The portrait lady nodded her head sagely. "Slept through supper too."

My stomach chose that precise moment to growl in hunger. I clutched at it. "No wonder I feel peckish."

I stood and walked over to a full length mirror that stood next to a large armoire. I made a face.

"I can't go down looking like this."

My hair was tangled and formed a caramel colored halo around my head. My dress was wrinkled and dirty and my cheeks had tearstains on them. Wait. Tearstains? I touched them cautiously. When had I cried?

"There are some of Ginny's old things in the armoire," the portrait lady informed me. "They'll be too small but you can make them longer with your wand."

I nodded and opened the armoire. The clothes were definitely not new. I made a pair of shoes larger, a pair of socks longer, a skirt longer, a blouse larger, and a jumper larger, before everything would fit. I then washed my face and I brushed my hair with a brush that I found on the bedside table. For fun I braided one lock of hair and tied it with a ribbon that matched the jumper. I looked into the mirror once more.

"I look like a school girl," I giggled.

The portrait lady looked at me shrewdly. "A very pretty one at that. Those Weasley twins won't know what hit them."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm already taken, but thanks."

The portrait lady winked at me and I made my way downstairs. Fred and George were already at the kitchen table eating slightly burnt pancakes. I sat down in the only chair left.

"Where's Muriel?" I asked.

George pointed at the ceiling with his fork. "Still asleep. She won't be up until around noon."

"What time is it?"

"Around nine o' clock."

I grabbed a plate and a fork and scooped some pancakes on my plate. I dug in with gusto. After a few minutes of silence George spoke tentatively.

"So, Angie, you like cinnamon?"

I looked up in surprise and noticed his eyes were twinkling mischievously. I suddenly felt apprehensive.

"Sometimes, why?" I asked suspiciously.

George snorted with laughter into his glass of milk. Fred turned to me, his mouth twitching.

"You said I smelled like cinnamon last night when I was carrying you to bed."

I clapped my hand over my mouth in wide-eyed horror.

"I didn't!"

The twin's faces told me they were speaking the truth. I groaned and covered my face with my hands.

"What else did I say?" I asked, not daring to look at them.

"Well, that you think I smell like peanuts," George said.

"And that Quidditch was a sport for students who didn't have the brains to do anything else," Fred said, a slight frown creasing his forehead even while his eyes kept shining.

"And that Gilderoy Lockhart has a dreamy smile," George snickered.

I looked up, blushing. "So I had a crush on him my third year, so what? All the girls did."

The twins just sniggered harder.

"And you said that Malfoy's a good kisser," George continued his torture.

"And that he tasted like butterbeer," Fred said. Something flickered in his eyes that I couldn't name. Before I could figure it out, it was gone and he was snickering again.

"And that—"

"Okay!" I said in exasperation. "I get it! I say strange things when I'm tired." I thought of something. "When I woke up this morning I had tearstains on my face. Was I crying?"

The twins exchanged a look, their smiles fading.

"You might have had a nightmare," said George, scratching the place where his ear no longer was.

"And you might have started crying and calling out for Cedric," Fred continued, sympathetically.

"And you might have called out for Malfoy too," George said.

"Oh." I looked down at my half-eaten pancakes. "Quite a night huh?"

"Yeah, we thought we'd never get any sleep."

"Sorry," I said ruefully.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Fred said with a smile. "Just don't do it again."

George grinned at me and I couldn't help but grin back.

"I promise to get a goodnight's sleep tonight." I said.

We finished our breakfast and then the twins went outside to check on Aunt Muriel's owls. I sat down on the sofa, chewing absently on the end of my braid. I sighed. Already I was bored and I had just arrived here. I was I to survive who knows how long? I stood and made my way over to a bookshelf. Ravenclaws are famous for liking to read and learn and I was no exception. Finding a book that looked interesting, I sank into the large armchair and started to read. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

A/N: Thank you NarniaRulz, qwertykate88, ktkakes, Delaney, and Sweet.Sweet.Ice.Cream for reviewing. :-D I'm glad ya'll are liking it.

Reviews make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. :-P