That night, Scarlett found herself unable to sleep, tossing and turning for what seemed like hours. Her thoughts kept circling around what Justin had told her earlier. The truth about why he really didn't like Fred was going to make it that much harder to tell him about the vow because it was going to hurt him that much more.
Sighing with frustration, Scarlett threw back her covers and tiptoed out of her dorm, pausing only to grab a jacket. She headed for the Astronomy tower without any particular reason behind her decision. She just needed to be somewhere else for a while. The entire way there, Scarlett felt as if she should have been holding her breath. She didn't know how safe it was being out after hours, especially after what had happened last time.
She reached the Astronomy tower and gently closed the door behind her, breathing a sigh of relief. Even though she technically wasn't safe until she was back in her dorm, Scarlett couldn't help but feel relieved that she had made it to the Astronomy tower without getting caught.
Relaxing slightly, she sat on the ground, looking up at the seemingly limitless, starry sky. Maybe it was odd and crazy, or maybe it wasn't, but ever since the night on the rooftop of Grimmauld Place, and then the broom ride, Scarlett couldn't help but think of Fred every time she saw stars. It was completely in a friendly way, though. Friends were more than allowed to think of each other when they saw something that reminded them of the other person.
Scarlett was almost expecting Fred to find her now and ask her to tell him a story. It was all so similar to Grimmauld Place. The only thing missing was Fred.
When the door opened five minutes later, Scarlett almost thought it really was him, but when she turned around, her heart sank into her knees. It was Umbridge, tapping her wand against her palm and smirking.
"I thought someone was out after hours," she said with one of her girly giggles. "Detention, I think, Miss Callaway, my office, tomorrow night at eight sharp."
Scarlett jumped up. "I wasn't doing anything wrong," she argued. "I just came up here because I couldn't sleep."
"You were out after hours," Umbridge said. "You broke the rules. That's what you did wrong. Now, unless you want another night of detention, you'll stop arguing with me and head back to your dormitory at once."
Sighing, Scarlett slipped past Umbridge without another word and headed back to the Hufflepuff common room. She had had detentions before, of course, but she had always been ordered to spend some time with Professor Sprout watering and pruning greenhouse plants or writing normal lines with a normal quill. Those detentions were bearable and Professor Sprout was a pleasant person to be around. Now, Scarlett would be spending her detention writing lines with an evil quill owned by an evil woman in a pink sweater.
"Merlin's beard, Scar," Fred whispered. It was four days later, and Scarlett was working with Erica, Fred and George in Herbology as usual.
"What?" she asked. She tried to sound casual, even though she knew full well what Fred was talking about.
"Your hand looks awful."
"Doesn't it?" Erica asked, rolling her eyes. "She got a detention for being out after hours. Considering what the punishment is these days, I don't think sneaking out is worth it anymore."
"Of course it is," George argued. "You just have to know how to not get caught."
"Scarlett doesn't know all the tricks to that yet," Fred smirked. He looked at Scarlett. "Where did you sneak out to?"
"The Astronomy tower," she answered. "I couldn't sleep."
Fred shook his head and wiggled a finger at her. "Scarlett Callaway, I'm disappointed. Reading one of your Muggle fairy tales could have fixed that problem just as easily and saved you a detention."
"Are you saying the stories are boring and put people to sleep?" she teased.
"No, not at all," Fred answered, shaking his head.
"That's what you implied."
"But it's not what I meant. Anyway, when was your detention?"
"Three days ago," Scarlett replied.
"Three?" Fred asked, his jaw dropping.
"Yeah, why?" Scarlett asked slowly.
"Scarlett, my hand looked nowhere near as bad the day after. I thought your detention was just last night. It looks really bad. This is closer to what Harry's looked like after two nights of using the quill in a row, but even still, Harry's looked slightly better. How long did Umbridge keep you for?"
"Well I got there at eight and stayed until four in the morning, so eight hours."
"Eight hours?" Fred asked, his eyes widening.
"I thought that was how long she kept everyone."
"No," Fred answered. "She kept me for only four hours. Harry, too."
"Same for me," George said.
"Same here," Erica added. "Honestly, I don't understand why you forgot to mention that little detail to me."
"I thought it was normal," Scarlett said with a shrug. "How was I supposed to know that she only kept people for four hours?"
"Eight hours didn't seem unreasonable to you?" Fred asked.
"Of course it did, but even four hours is unreasonable when you're writing lines with your own blood."
"True," Fred shrugged.
"I don't understand," Scarlett whispered. "Why is Umbridge treating me like this?"
"I don't know," Fred answered seriously. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Hey, can you meet me in the entrance hall tonight an hour after dinner ends?"
"Why?" Scarlett asked hesitantly.
"I can just give you a bowl of murtlap for your hand. Trust me, it helps loads and from the looks of your hand, you're going to need some."
"Oh, I'm sure I can get some on my own," Scarlett shrugged.
Fred raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Hermione's the only person I know who has the supplies. The ingredients aren't on anyone's Potions lists, but Hermione always buys a bunch of extra things in case she needs them. As it turns out, her crazy idea paid off this time."
"I can get some from her by myself, then," Scarlett argued.
"Don't be so difficult," Fred sighed. "It'll be easier for me to get some for you. Just say yes, Scar."
Scarlett was quiet for a moment as she dusted some soil off of her notes. "Fine," she eventually responded.
"So, tonight?" Fred asked. "An hour after dinner? Do you think you can get away from the Finch long enough?"
"Yes, I can," Scarlett answered, slightly irritated. "It'll only be for a few minutes. I won't even tell Justin I'm getting the murtlap from you. I'll tell him I'm getting it directly from Hermione. Only if he asks, though. I don't need him getting paranoid again. Although, it might be best if I can convince Hermione to back me up in case he decides to ask her about it. I really don't think he would, but you never know…."
"Now who's the paranoid one?" Fred muttered. Scarlett glared at him, but he smirked and continued. "And look at this! You're planning on lying to your boyfriend."
"I'm not lying! I'm just not telling the whole truth. It's for Justin's own good, really. And mine considering I don't want him angry with me."
Fred shrugged. "I hate to break it to you but lying and not telling the whole truth is the same thing."
"No, if I was lying, then I wouldn't be telling any of the truth. I am telling him that I'm getting murtlap for my hand, which is true, but I'm not telling him who I'm getting it from."
"Unless he asks," Fred argued, "and then you will proceed to give him false information. In other words, you're going to lie."
"Yes, but if he doesn't ask, I won't have to lie."
"But just say he does ask…." Fred smirked.
"Since when have you been so against lying?"
"I didn't say I was against it. I just find your situation amusing."
"And anyway," Scarlett continued. "This isn't the first time. I've been lying to him about you this whole time and keeping the vow thing a secret. You've been doing the same with Angelina, so I guess it's only fair that I tease you about that."
Fred chuckled. "Okay, okay, you win."
"Good," Scarlett answered, satisfied.
"Good," Fred replied, sticking out his tongue.
"Mature," Scarlett sniffed. Fred gave her a cheesy smile.
"Flirting," Erica whispered to George, who let out a breath of laughter. Scarlett rolled her eyes at Fred and, together, they pretended not to hear them.
"I'm just going to get murtlap for my hand," Scarlett assured Justin that night. "I heard it works wonders and my hand's looking pretty terrible." She stuck her cut hand in front of his face.
"Yeah, because that toad kept you there for eight straight hours," Justin muttered angrily, looking at her scratched hand with hate. He looked back up at her. "Where are you getting the murtlap from? Most people don't have the ingredients for that. They aren't on our potions lists."
"Hermione has some," Scarlett said quickly, trying not to wince as the lie poured from her mouth.
"Of course," Justin said with a laugh. "Okay, well, I actually might head up to bed soon. This is the first night in a while that I'm homework free and I want to catch up on all that sleep I've been losing." Justin laughed again and smiled up at Scarlett.
"You want to sleep?" Ernie Macmillan asked from the other end of the couch. "You have no homework and you want to spend your free time sleeping?"
"I think it sounds like a good idea," Scarlett said.
"Well, I think it sounds dumb," Ernie said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as he smirked at Justin.
"Maybe I'll play a game of Exploding Snap with Ernie just to get him to shut up," Justin said, smirking at his friend.
"Don't do me any favors," Ernie muttered.
"If you're not still awake when I come back then I'll see you in the morning, okay?" Scarlett laughed.
Justin nodded. Scarlett leaned over to kiss him before leaving the common room.
Fred was already waiting in the entrance hall when Scarlett got there. The bowl of murtlap was tucked under his arm.
"You look worried," he noted when she reached him.
"I am," she sighed. "I really hate lying to Justin. I hate lying in general."
"It gets easier," Fred teased.
"And how would you know?" Scarlett teased back, raising her eyebrows.
Fred laughed. "I agree with you. Lying to people you care about is always difficult. It doesn't really get any easier."
"So you lied to me just now about it getting easier," Scarlett said. "What does that say about you?" She smirked at him. "You don't care about me?"
"It was very hard for me to tell you that lie," Fred said.
"Nice save." Scarlett rolled her eyes and Fred laughed.
"So, I guess you really do care about the Finch if it was so difficult for you to lie to him."
"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"
Fred shrugged. "I noticed you don't yell at me all that much for teasing him anymore."
"Only because I know it's no use!"
"It's not as fun if you don't get upset." Fred pretended to pout.
"Oh, don't be such a baby." Scarlett snorted and rolled her eyes, letting out a tiny laugh. After a brief pause, she gestured to the murtlap Fred was holding. "I'm guessing that's for me."
Fred nodded, but pulled away slightly as Scarlett reached for the bowl. "Ah, but I'm not just going to hand it over to you," he said.
"What do you mean?" Scarlett asked. "You said if I met you here, you'd give me the murtlap. I took that as you were going to hand it over and I'd go on my merry way."
"No, not quite," Fred grinned.
"Come on," she complained, "I told Justin I'd only be a few minutes." She paused. "Granted, he did say he was going to bed soon, but that's not important."
"See, your excuse is invalid," Fred said.
Scarlett sighed. "What do you have planned this time?"
"Come on." Fred led her by the arm towards the front doors.
"No," Scarlett said, trying to pull free. "Do you realize that if we stay out much longer then we'll be out after hours? Bad things always happen to me after hours. I mean, first I got locked in a classroom, then I got caught and had to sit through a detention with toad face as I wrote with my own blood."
"Will you shut up?" Fred asked, his tone showing his amusement. "Nothing bad is going to happen. You're with me."
"Big head," Scarlett muttered.
"Come again?" Fred asked, teasing her.
"You heard me. You must have quite the ego if you think you're invincible when it comes to getting caught."
"But I practically am," Fred laughed. "Invincible, I mean. I've snuck out so many times that I know just how to not get caught. I haven't gotten caught in years."
"I hope you're right," Scarlett sighed.
"Do you trust me?" Fred asked, pausing to turn and look at her.
"You asked me this once before," Scarlett pointed out.
"But I'm asking you again, just to double check. Do you trust me?"
"Yes, I do, but-,"
"Then come on!" Fred pulled her all the way down to the lake and under the shelter of a large willow tree beside the water. Fred sat down and looked up at Scarlett expectantly.
"Well, this is nice," she said, following Fred's lead and sitting down. "But I don't understand why you brought me here."
"You needed murtlap," Fred replied, setting the bowl down in between them and nudging it towards her.
"You could have just handed it to me like I was expecting you to," Scarlett reasoned.
Fred grinned. "I thought it would be best if we stayed out after hours, and on the way back I taught you a few of the secret passageways that George and I are so fond of. That way, on your next nighttime rendezvous you most likely won't get caught."
"Did you just say rendezvous?" Scarlett giggled.
"I did," Fred answered with a smile, leaning back against the tree trunk and lacing his fingers behind his head. He gestured with his chin to the bowl of murtlap. "Go ahead, it'll make your hand feel so much better."
Scarlett did as he said and sighed with relief as her hand touched the cool liquid.
"Better?" Fred asked with a knowing smirk.
"Uh-huh," she said, nodding vigorously as Fred laughed.
They fell into a comfortable silence and Scarlett stared down at the bowl of murtlap as she her mind started to work overtime—nothing new there. As much as she hated lying to Justin and as much as she didn't want to get caught being out after hours, she loved being with Fred. Even though they hadn't spoken in years, he clearly still cared about her just as she still cared about him. He was still so willing to help her out, despite the fact that they had grown apart. They had clearly just needed a little push to start talking again and the vow had apparently been it.
"Do you still collect those, um, things?" Fred asked, interrupting her thoughts.
"What things?" Scarlett asked, looking up in confusion and surprise.
Fred looked as if he were struggling to think of the right name. "Those little papers that grew inside of those weird tan cookies."
"Fortunes from fortune cookies?" Scarlett giggled.
"Yeah," Fred nodded. "You used to have a whole bunch of them."
"They don't grow inside of the cookies, Fred. They're baked inside."
"Oh," Fred said, nodding. "I never actually understood how they got in there."
"To answer your question, though, yeah I still probably would collect them," Scarlett shrugged. "I just haven't had Chinese food in such a long time. I've only had it maybe once or twice since I was nine." She sighed and began absentmindedly pulling grass out of the ground with her free hand.
"Was it something special between you and your dad?" Fred guessed.
Scarlett nodded. "When we would go out to lunch every month, we would go to a Chinese restaurant nearly every time. My dad got me started on my collection, too. It started out as more of an experiment, actually. We were reading our fortunes and wondering if they were a load of nonsense or if maybe at least some of them could actually come true. We decided that if I saved them, I could one day go back and read through them and see if any of them did come true and we'd have our answer."
"Have any of them come true?" Fred asked.
"I don't know," Scarlett shrugged. "I haven't looked back on them in a while." Even as she talked about the memories, she could feel her stomach clenching unpleasantly. She hadn't looked at the fortunes since a week or two before her father died. And she half never wanted to never look at them again.
"Too painful?" Fred asked.
Scarlett met his eyes to see him looking at her with such compassion that she couldn't help the sudden rush of affection she felt for him. "Somewhat," she answered. "It's more painful to think that my dad will never know the outcome of the experiment."
Fred nodded. After a short pause, he spoke again. "I used to collect rocks."
Scarlett laughed. "Rocks?"
"Rocks," he repeated. "I started after you moved away. I had always wanted to start my own collection after you told me about yours, but I didn't know what to collect, so I decided on rocks. No sentimental story or reason. I just liked rocks, I guess." He smiled and shrugged.
Scarlett giggled. "Do you still collect them?"
"No, mum said they were cluttering up my bookshelf. That's where I kept them. No books, just rocks."
Scarlett laughed. "At least you used the bookshelf for something other than a dust collector."
"Exactly. See? You get it," Fred said, pointing a finger at her before putting his hand back behind his head. "Anyway, mum made me get rid of them all, but I secretly saved a few of my favorites in an old shoebox under my bed."
Scarlett laughed again and shook her head. She stared at the gently moving willow tree leaves. When she glanced back at Fred, he was staring at her. "What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing," Fred whispered. "Just thinking."
"About what?" Scarlett asked, leaning back on the hand that wasn't in the bowl of murtlap.
"Do you still hate your middle name?" Fred asked.
Scarlett blinked. "That's what you were thinking about?"
Fred nodded. "I remember teasing you constantly about it because you didn't like it."
"It was so unusual," Scarlett sighed. "I mean, Megara?" She didn't say anything for a moment, but her mouth curled into a smile. "I grew to appreciate it though. Especially after my dad died. He chose it, you know."
"Yeah?" Fred asked, looking interested.
"He loved Greek mythology," she nodded. "And my mother was insistent on my first name, so it was agreed that my dad would get to choose my middle name." She paused. "Actually, it was my dad's fault my mother fell in love with the name Scarlett. He introduced her to the movie Gone With the Wind."
"Movie?" Fred asked.
Scarlett smiled. "It's hard to explain, but it's a Muggle form of entertainment. There's a device called a television that Muggles can watch movies on….Basically people act out different storylines. They're filmed using more Muggle devices and made into movies that people can buy and watch at home. Sometimes they're based on books. Peter Pan, for instance? There's a movie about it." She smiled, knowing Fred would like that bit of information.
"Really?" Fred asked eagerly.
Scarlett nodded. "Actually, there are movies based on most of the stories I told you. Remind me to show you one day. I have a pretty good movie collection at home thanks to my dad."
"I'd like that," Fred said with a smile.
"So would I," Scarlett replied. "You know, speaking of my dad and Peter Pan, have you ever heard of Kensington Gardens in London?"
"I think I might have heard it mentioned once or twice, but I can't remember where," Fred shrugged. "Why?"
"There's a Peter Pan statue there. Sometimes, my dad and I would stop there and look at the statue after we went out for lunch. I loved it. I used to play on it when I was really little. I'm sure there are a few pictures somewhere, but..." she shrugged and trailed off.
Fred smiled. "I'd like to see it."
"You should," Scarlett told him.
"With you," Fred added.
Scarlett looked up at him and smiled. "If that's what you want."
Fred nodded. "Yeah."
"I haven't been there since...well, since the accident," Scarlett said with a dry laugh. "That's where it happened, you know. Right across the street."
"That's why Kensington Gardens sounded familiar!" Fred groaned. "I remember my mother mentioning it to my dad. They were whispering in the kitchen the day of the accident. I didn't know what they were talking about yet, of course, but naturally, George and I tried to eavesdrop. We heard my mother crying and saying something was tragic. We were scared, so we burst into the room and asked her flat out what was going on." Fred let out a tiny laugh at the memory. "She wouldn't tell us the details. She thought we were too young to know, but I remember she told us that your father died. She didn't even tell us you were in the hospital. Again, I think it was because she didn't want to frighten us. When George and I asked where you were, she simply said you weren't up to seeing anyone."
"Which turned out to be true once I was out of the hospital," Scarlett said.
"If we had known…." Fred let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. "I was so mad when I found out the truth. I wished my parents had told me. I felt like I deserved to know that you were in the hospital and hurting more than I understood…emotionally more than physically."
"Your parents were trying to protect you. I don't blame them," Scarlett said quietly. She blew a puff of air out of her mouth. It was so painful to relive the time after the accident, but at the same time, she was glad she and Fred were getting things out in the open. It was helping her to better understand what happened to their friendship and how Fred felt about everything because she never got the chance to hear it from him. "At the time I was glad you and George didn't know. I didn't want you to see me. Not the way I was. I wasn't the same person that I was before my dad died. I was miserable and…a mess. I couldn't let you see that. But now…I kind of regret it." She sighed. "I don't even think I talked to you at the funeral."
"No," Fred whispered. "I understand why now, but at the time I thought you didn't like me anymore."
"Oh, Fred, I'm sorry," she said, wincing. She had thought Fred might have felt that way, but hearing him say it kind of broke her heart.
"No, it's alright. You made up for it a few weeks later when you ran over to tell me you were moving. The fact that you were trying so hard not to cry proved that you did in fact still like me." He smiled. "Unless they were tears of joy."
"No, of course not," Scarlett laughed.
"But then we stopped talking and seeing each other after you moved," Fred whispered. "And I got used to it after a while, but at first I thought that I had been right in suspecting you didn't like me anymore. I was hurt. George was, too. Even Ron and Ginny would ask where you were, but eventually they stopped asking when mum never gave them a real answer. For a while, I hoped you would come back, but eventually I accepted that you weren't. If I'm being honest, there were still times where I thought about you and missed you, but I grew accustomed to the fact that we weren't friends anymore. And when we started school, I didn't know how to talk to you anymore. I didn't know what to say or if it would be weird, or if you even wanted to talk to me."
"That's exactly how I felt about you," Scarlett whispered. "I didn't know where we stood."
"Exactly," Fred said. "And then you came back, almost out of nowhere. It made me nervous that I was going to be around you again when I found out you were coming to Grimmauld Place."
"Me, too," Scarlett told him. "And now we have to get married." She paused. "Why is our relationship all out of order? I mean, we went from best friends to practically strangers, to engaged, to acquaintences, to friends again. And even still our relationship isn't exactly what it used to be."
"We're getting there, aren't we?" Fred asked. "I'd like to think so, anyway."
Scarlett nodded. "Yeah, I'd like to think so, too."
"As for the out of order bit," Fred smirked, "I think I should take credit for that. I mean, you should know that when you associate yourself with a Weasley twin, everything is a jumbled mess."
"Never a dull moment," Scarlett giggled.
"Exactly," Fred laughed. Then, he glanced at his watch. "We should probably be heading back now."
"Okay." Scarlett took her hand out of the murtlap and shook off the excess liquid. Fred picked up the bowl and tossed the murtlap into the grass. "What?" he asked when Scarlett raised her eyebrows.
"Wasteful," she teased.
"You just stuck your gross, cut up hand in there. You can't expect me to keep it. I'm thinking of sanitation here, Scar."
"Oh, so now my hand is gross and cut up? You were all concerned about it earlier today."
"Your hand was always gross and cut up. Ever since your detention, at least. Just because I was concerned doesn't mean that I didn't think it was gross."
Scarlett sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Come on, let's go," Fred laughed.
They reached the front door and Fred stuck his head in first, looking left and right.
"All clear?" Scarlett asked.
"All clear," Fred answered, tiptoeing inside. "Okay, well the first secret passage you should know about is this way." He led her to a tapestry and pointed to it. "Leads to the third floor."
"Handy," Scarlett said, "but my common room's that way." She pointed in the other direction.
"Yeah, down by the kitchens, I know. I've seen it when I go with George to sneak food."
"Okay, so why are you taking me to the third floor?"
"To show you the secret passageways," Fred answered. "There aren't any between here and your common room so we have to take a few upstairs and then back down."
"Okay," Scarlett sighed, "let's do it."
Fred grinned and pushed the tapestry aside. They followed the passageway until they reached the back of what Scarlett guessed was another tapestry. Fred pushed it aside and Sarlett let out a gasp.
Filch was standing there about to pull away the tapestry himself. He glared at Scarlett and Fred while Mrs. Norris purred at his feet.
"Uh-oh," Fred gulped.
"We're in trouble, aren't we?" Scarlett whispered. The question was directed at Fred, but it was Filch who answered.
"Yes, you are."
A/N: Sorry about the length of this chapter. It's a bit long, but there is a lot of Fred/Scarlett in it.
Thanks for all the reviews, favorites and follows for this story. I love reading them and I love knowing that people are enjoying the story!