AN: Okay, something bad happened with the last chapter and stuff, suddenly I can't use -- as anything, but just try to remember the first and last paragraph is always taking place later than the rest.
Nox found work to do, at least to occupy her fingers. A stray cat had snuck into the house and made a mess of Mrs. Weasley's knitting yarn, and in loss of others thing to do, Nox offered to help solve the knots. Still, her mind was free to wander.
The hours wore on and no news came about George. The pack of cigarettes were slowly devoured by Nox, even if she keep telling herself this'll be the last one, just one more and we'll hear about George. Fred's jokes kept getting ruder as his nerves obviously became more and more worn. Charlie went to search for Molly and returned with her a quarter of an hour later, puffy-eyed and with dirt stains on her apron. So she had been digging or something.
Nox kept a steady tattoo with her fingernails on the table, her other hand supporting her head as she tried forcing her mind to think rationally and make sense of it all; werewolves and people disappearing up the chimney, what would be next?
"Go lie down on the couch, me and Freddy-boy'll check out the chicken coop," Charlie told her at last, seeing her drooping eyelids. She opened her mouth to answer, but changed her sleep-deprived mind, stumbled into the sitting-room and fell over on the couch, snoring in less than a minute.
She drifted towards consciousness again a couple of hours later of the feeling of something ruffling through her hair. She lounged out a hand and the ruffling stopped for a moment, then continued, a small strand of hair tickling continually over her temple.
"Go away," she muttered and turned over on her side, facing the back of the couch, and stuck out her behind in a clear signal she wanted to be left alone.
"Shh, Noxy-foxy, you're so pretty," a leering voice cooed by her ear. She whipped around to sit up at once and glare at Fred, who lost his concentration in the surprise and the hair clip dropped to the floor.
"What are you doing?" she asked, running her hands over her head and finding several clips pinning her hair in all possible directions.
"Making you pwetty," he answered innocently with a grin as she began pulling the clips forcefully out of her thick, short locks.
"Don't bother," she muttered and ran her hand several times through her hair in a vain attempt at making it lay properly. It was still caked in mud some places, even if she had got the opportunity to change and wash before Bill escorted her to the Burrow. She still shuddered whenever thinking about the suffocating feeling and the confusion of suddenly appearing in a completely different place.
"Oh, but you haven't even seen your face!" Fred happily handed her a hand-mirror and as she raised it to look at herself she let out a skelloch loud enough to wake the dead, if he hadn't already been kneeling beside her, shaking with mirth. Her face looked like nothing less than a pantomime gone horribly wrong; her cheeks were powdered nearly white, a thick layer of mascara framed her eyes and a nasty pink covered her lips and eyelids.
"Fred Weasley, I'll – I'll – argh!" In loss of words she jumped to her feet and did her best to kick, pinch and hit him, to no help at all. "You goddamn –"
"Fred." Charlie had appeared in the doorway and looked grimly at the scene before him, which had frozen with Nox making a grab for the ghost's ears. "Mum wants to speak to you, she's upstairs."
"'Bout what?" Fred asked, already striding towards the kitchen.
"Dunno," Charlie answered with a shrug as the translucent form of his brother passed through him. Nox fell back on the couch again, still panting with anger, and dragged a finger over her cheek, frowning at the grime that followed. "New look?" Charlie asked, leaning against the door frame.
"No," she answered hard. "Where did he get all this stuff from, anyway?" She eyed the assortment of cosmetics on the coffee table warily.
"Some he stole from Mum, some of it is their own inventions. I suggest you go wash it off," he said and pressed against one side of the door as she stomped into the kitchen and seemed to do her best to drown herself in the sink, splashing water over herself and most of the room. "Tell me if your skin starts pricking or anything."
"And what can you do about it, exorcise Fred?" she asked as she mopped her face clean with a towel.
"Not quite," he answered and sat down on the edge of the table. "How long have you known the twins?"
"Five – six days, I think," she answered. "And I had no idea how easy the previous twenty-three years of my life had been." He chuckled and shook his head slowly.
"Congratulations, I think six days is the longest Fred has ever kept a girl," he told her.
"I'm not his girl," she said between clenched teeth as her ears turned pink in annoyance.
"I didn't say you were," he answered. "I meant as a general – friend, employee, enemy, no girl have ever managed Fred for that long when he's that committed."
"I'll pretend you didn't say any of that," she said and emerged from the towel. A loud fwoosh announced the arrival of Mr. Weasley by Floo.
"He's all right," the middle-aged man answered before they could ask. "George is in good hands, they've just redressed his wounds for the third time in an hour, propped him full of potions and had us fill out a good many forms." Nox visibly deflated at the good news and sagged down on a chair. Charlie just gave a nod to his father.
"Bill's been seeing him?" Charlie asked and stood up properly.
"Yes. Sent him to get us some tea and he didn't return." Mr. Weasley took the chair beside Nox and removed his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "I think he went home to his wife."
"To cry in her arms," a sharp voice said above them and they all looked up to see Fred's torso emitting from the ceiling, his hair dangling over his eyes as he craned his neck to look at them.
"To sleep," Mr. Weasley insisted instead.
"In her arms," Fred said with a sneer and was off again.
"He's been like that all day," Charlie told his father. "I think the sooner we get George back home, the better for all of us."
"Yes," Nox agreed quietly. And sooner I can leave my resignation letter.
The first line was free, after minutes of fumbling with a particularly hard loop of a knot, and Nox stretched her fingers before beginning with the next.