Chapter 4/Boggarts, Tears, and Milk

The next few weeks passed slowly. Fred and George's owl-order service worked pretty well. They were soon busy inventing new Wheezes to add to their stock and filling out the orders. They occasionally let me help, but after almost blowing up the cupboard, they told me politely that I stunk in making magical jokes and that I should go make them some tarts or something.

By the time September rolled along I had read all the books in Aunt Muriel's house. And I had heard at least a hundred biting comments from the woman. She always had something to criticize about me. She criticized the twins too but didn't get as big of a reaction out of them as from me. I think she thought it was fun to pick on me.

She criticized my clothes, saying it was too short, or too low-cut; my choice of men, saying that Malfoy was a snake and continually asking me if I knew that they were all Death Eaters; my cooking, it was too cold, too hot, too cooked, or not cooked enough; my looks, I was too pale, too skinny, too sour looking. She drove me up the wall.

"How can you stand her?" I asked Fred and George one day.

"With both ears closed," Fred said.

"I only have to close one," George said brightly.

"Well aren't you lucky," I said rolling my eyes. They gave me identical grins. I grinned back then sighed. "I just wish she'd get off my case. Nothing pleases that woman!"

The twins had no other answer than to prank her, but I knew that wouldn't go over very well and would only give her reason to hate me more. In the end Fred and George returned to their jokes and I retreated to my books. Getting one I had already read but liked well enough off the shelf, I curled up on my bed to read it.

I suddenly heard a rattling from the dusty roll top desk that stood in a far corner of the room. I looked at it, frowning. That was odd. There hadn't been anything in there when I explored my first week. I listened for more but it was silent. I returned to my book. The rattling returned. I laid my book down. Picking up my wand I slid off the bed and approached the desk. Taking a deep breath I opened the top.

What I saw made me stumble back in horror. Draco Malfoy had materialized in front of me. He smirked at me in that way that was so familiar. His cloak was covered with blood.

"Hey Barry, I just thought you should know," he said, "that I killed your blood-traitor and Mudblood friends today. Now you don't have any reason not to join the Dark Lord at my side."

My mouth opened in a silent "o." I started shaking as Draco continued to smirk at me.

"Potter, Granger, Weasley, those twins, they're all dead. Now we can serve the Dark Lord together."

I shook my head. "No," I whispered. I knew then what this was. It was a boggart. I hadn't encountered one in a long time. I licked my lips and raised my wand.

"Riddikulus!" I shouted, but I couldn't think of anything funny that could come of Malfoy becoming my worst fear. All I could think of was . . .

I screamed as the boggart transformed into Harry Potter, lying dead at my feet. Tears started streaming down my cheeks. This couldn't be happening. No, I couldn't lose anyone else.

"Riddikulus!" I shouted louder, my wand hand shaking.

The boggart turned into Hermione dead. I sank to the floor.

"NO! RIDDIKULUS!"

Ron dead. "RIDDIKULUS!" Ginny dead. "RIDDIKULUS!" George dead.

I was sobbing, I couldn't help it. My fears, my worst fears, staring me in the face were too much to bear. I heard my door being thrown open but I didn't look up.

"NO! STOP IT!" I cried. "RIDDIKULUS!"

Fred dead. I screamed. I felt strong arms envelop me and I buried my face in the person's chest. A loud voice shouted, "Riddikulus!" and then silence. I rocked back and forth, sobbing on the person holding me. A second pair of arms covered me.

"Shh," a familiar voice said, "it's alright. It's gone now."

"It was Malfoy," I blubbered. "He had become a murderer. I tried to banish it. I tried . . ."

Fred's voice continued to comfort me while I sobbed in George's shoulder. I felt rather silly after a while, clinging to the Weasley twins like this. I pulled away after a short while, wiping my tears away and flushing slightly.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to fall apart like that."

"It's perfectly understandable," Fred said.

"We'd be worried if you were this way over a few pixies," George said.

"Yeah, so you've got no reason to feel stupid."

"Even though it was stupid not to come get us as soon as you heard the boggart."

I leaned back against Fred, closing my eyes and sighing in exhaustion. That boggart had taken a lot out of me.

"I thought I could handle it, I didn't know it was a boggart." I lowered my voice. "I never was very good at banishing boggarts."

George patted my arm. "It's okay Angie," he said in a voice one would use to comfort a toddler, "the bad old boggart is gone now, it won't hurt you."

I glared at him. "Thanks George, I feel so much better," I said sarcastically.

"Anytime," he grinned.

Fred shifted under me and I realized I was still leaning on his chest. I straightened and they helped me to my feet. I took a deep breath and straightened my skirt. Fred picked up my book from the bed.

"You're reading this again?" He asked. "Haven't you read this like a hundred times already?"

I snatched the book back. "No, this is only my second time. There's nothing else to do."

"Well, you're the one who tried to blow up the house," Fred pointed out.

I flushed. "That was an accident! Your joke spells are too complicated to learn that fast. You two are great wizards and everything, but come on, not all of us are like that."

The twins grinned. "We know."

I shook my head and led the way downstairs. Aunt Muriel made her way over to us.

"What was all that racket?" she asked loudly.

"Boggart in Angie's bedroom," Fred explained while heading towards the icebox. He got out a bottle of milk and proceeded to drink it out of the bottle.

Aunt Muriel snorted, "You got it out I hope."

I nodded. "Yeah, it—"

"Use a glass Fredrick! Really! How like a man." Aunt Muriel rapped her walking stick across Fred's legs as he hastened to return the milk.

I laughed as Aunt Muriel chased her grandnephew out of the kitchen. George took advantage of her distracted state to swipe the milk and drink it from the bottle himself. I covered my mouth with my hand, all thoughts of the boggart gone from my mind as I watched Muriel turn on George and start reprimanding him also. George set the milk down and Muriel chased him out.

While she was out, Fred snuck back in and finished off the bottle. Tossing it neatly in the rubbish bin, he raised his fist in victory before running out of the kitchen. When Muriel returned she found me rolling on the ground with laughter and all her milk gone. She pursed her lips tightly.

"Young adults, I swear they get more inconsiderate each generation."

I just laughed harder.

00000

The next week I woke up feeling depressed. I wondered why for a minute before I remembered. Today was Cedric's birthday. I touched my locket. Oh great, this was just what I needed. Getting dressed slowly I answered the portrait lady's "Good morning" with a dismal grunt. She asked what was wrong but I didn't feel like talking to her. I think she was slightly offended by my lack of tact, but she didn't comment on it.

I tried to keep myself out of depression but afternoon found me standing outside in the garden with my arms folded, staring out at nothing. I heard footsteps but didn't turn.

"What's wrong?" Fred asked, stepping up beside me.

"Cedric's birthday," I said, fingering my locket.

Fred didn't speak. Resting an arm around my shoulder, he stared across the field with me. We couldn't walk beyond Aunt Muriel's property because that was where the protective charms stopped. I sighed and stepped closer to Fred, resting my head against his chest, right above his heart.

"Can you hear it?" he asked, his tone wry.

I smiled slightly. "Yes."

"Don't you worry about trying to keep it in. If you need to vent or anything, me and George are here for you. Don't go jumping off of any towers."

I slipped my arm around his waist and hugged him. "I won't," I said.

There was pause in which Fred wrapped his other arm around me and just held me while I took long shuddering breaths in his shoulder. I gripped him tightly, not wanting him to leave. Today was always hard for me. I need to spend it with a friend. Fred rested his cheek against my head.

"You really gonna marry Malfoy?" He asked, his voice low and uncharacteristically solemn.

I sighed. Why did he always have to sound so bitter about it? "Yes Fred. I'm going to marry Malfoy. Nothing you do can change that. Why won't you accept it?" I pulled away and stood with my arms crossed, glaring at him.

"I'm tired of having this conversation with you," I said. "Now I don't ever want to have it again, understand?"

Fred made a face. "Yes, ma'am."

There was another pause, this one slightly awkward. I cleared my throat and dropped my defensive pose.

"Listen Fred, I'm sorry for hitting you that day before Harry's birthday. I just lost my head. I shouldn't have done it. So I'm sorry." I looked earnestly into Fred's face, trying to see signs of forgiveness.

Fred looked away shrugging. "Whatever," he said, "it's no big deal."

I bit my lip, trying to keep from contradicting him. It was a big deal to me, but I didn't want to get into another argument with him.

"Hey," Fred said before I could say anything else, "here comes George."

I turned to see where he was looking. Sure enough George was jogging towards us. He was holding something in his hand. When he caught up to us he handed it to me.

"Ginny sent this to you, since it's Cedric's birthday and all," he said.

A lump grew in my throat as I fingered the scarf Ginny had made for my seventeenth birthday. It was the Hufflepuff colors and was supposed to be a memorial for Cedric. I smiled at George.

"Thanks for bringing it to me," I said, stepping forward and giving him a hug. He responded willingly, a grin spreading across his freckled face. He turned to his twin.

"Hey Fred," he said. "Fancy meeting you here."

I snorted. "Yeah right, we've only been cooped up here for weeks."

Fred looked mournful. "One month, one week, three days, and thirteen hours."

I laughed. "I don't see why you're complaining. You guys have been working all this time. I've just been reading."

Fred and George sniggered. "Well, it's not our fault you're terrible at making jokes." Fred said. "How in the world do you manage to make your wand do what you want?"

I slipped my wand out of my pocket. "Like this," I said. "Rictusempra!" I shouted, pointing my wand at Fred's stomach.

Instantly Fred began to laugh uncontrollably. The Tickling Charm worked perfectly. Fred doubled over in laughter. I smiled smugly as George began to snigger at his brother's predicament.

"Stop . . . it!" Fred gasped between bursts of laughter. "Can't . . . breathe!" He dropped on the ground.

I let it go on a few seconds longer before saying "Finite Incantatem!"

Fred took long deep breaths. George stopped snickering and helped his twin to his feet. Fred nodded at me.

"So you do know your spell work," he said appreciatively. "Good work."

I smiled sweetly, flinging the scarf over my neck and shoulder. "Thank you. Now shall we go inside? I believe it is time for dinner."

I moved past them. They soon caught up with me. We did not speak but George and I occasionally snickered as we remembered Fred's ridiculous expression and position on the floor. Fred cracked a smile himself. All three of us walked into the house arm in arm, Fred on my left, George on my right. My depression had completely disappeared. I was glad I had these Weasleys as my friends. I grinned at them as we started to cook dinner. Yes, I was blessed to have such good friends.

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