19. Yule Ball

It all felt like a dream. One minute I was waking up to Zoe jumping into bed with me and rubbing her frozen feet against my calves in a successful attempt to wake me as gracefully as she knew how, and the next I was back in Dumbledore's office, instantly sobering up in the warmth his presence brought. All day it had taken for me to adjust to the thought that I was leaving. A sense of dread hung over the Brimble's, something I was not accustomed to in the presence of the ever joyful family.

Zoe, Nate and I had slept over at my house, watching movies and telling stories all night, a memory we would all hold onto whilst away from each other. And that was when I told them of Fred.

To say they were shocked would be a great understatement. For minutes they had sat there in our makeshift fort, similar to the ones we made many years ago, silently contemplating the news that had just been broadcasted. And then Zoe screamed.

"No flipping way!" Her voice was shrill and astonished. "How long has this been going on for?"

"I'm guessing since they were born, Zo," Nate commented. He was taking the news far better than Zoe; the only sign of his shock being his wide eyes that lasted for about three seconds. Boys and their attitudes towards being masculine. Apparently the status of masculinity meant the secrecy of true feelings and the absence of vulnerability. But that wasn't being a man; that was being a rock. And rocks were only good for hurting.

"Piss off, that's not what I meant, idiot!"

And then broke out a casual squabble between the two before Nate hastily brought the conversation back to the uncovered twin. Her question were endless, and I soon came to regret informing them when she smirked and teased me mercilessly.

"Well, if Georgie ends up with this new bird of his you have an exact replica to fawn over!"

The amusement of seeing her expression when she found out that Fred, too, was involved with another girl was priceless, although painful when I admitted it.

We fought sleep but somehow drifted off sometime in the early hours of the morning with the voices from the TV lulling us into deep slumber, all of us sandwiched together under a duvet. I woke up with my best friends on either side of me, our limbs intertwined as if we were one. The image was clear: we were all together, will always be together.

I had to blink away tears as Dumbledore greeted me. We didn't converse long; it was a simple catch up on the nothings that had occurred in my absence. He bid me farewell as I yawned for the hundredth time, sending my luggage to my dorm for me. I left his office with half-lidded eyes and sloppy steps.

"Ooft!" I collided into a body; hands held my arms, steadying me.

"We really must stop meeting like this," Darren's voice came, full of mirth. My hazy state evaporated immediately.

"I think you look for an excuse to keep barging into me," I quipped, grinning up at his matching smile.

"And where might you have been all week?" he asked.

"I went home."

"Aw, you couldn't stand to be away from mummy and daddy for such a long period of time?" he teased, pinching my cheek lightly, the awkwardness from when he had asked me to the ball gone.

My chest ached but I pushed the feeling away. "Something like that," I murmured.

"Your Weasley's didn't let up where you had gone. Can you believe it? I went so far as to ask them!"

I laughed. "Oh, poor you! What are you doing up so late anyway?"

"Prefect duties just finished and I was heading back to –"

"Oi! What are you doing out here this late? You should be in bed," a female voice yelled down the corridor.

Her figure was shadowed in the darkness, but I could just make out a wand pointed towards us, the light illuminating the tip burning my eyes. I covered my face with my hands.

"I said what are you –"

She stepped forward and slowly her appearance sharpened into focus. She had short, dark brown hair framing her face, her skin a light and almost non-existent tan and moss green eyes. Her features were plain and common but her face, stern and hard, was not.

"Darren," she greeted with a small sharp nod, "who's this? Out of bed after curfew," she tutted and eyed me with a sneer. "You escorting her to her head of house?"

Darren crossed his arms over his chest and quirked an eyebrow down at her. "Gilly, you shouldn't be out of bed either. Last I checked you're only a third year."

The young girl frowned at Darren and mimicked his stance. "Are you consorting with other houses again? What's it this time, little fondle with a Hufflepuff?"

"Get lost, Gills, don't make me give you a detention and take away house points," Darren threatened with an eye roll.

"Snape wouldn't be too pleased if you were to do that."

Her wand was lowered to the ground, dimming the harshness of the white light. I dropped my hands from my face and fisted them in my pockets. The girl scrutinised me, her thick brows furrowed.

"I know you," she declared.

I blinked at her. Perhaps she had seen me in the Great Hall during breakfast one morning. Or maybe in the Entrance Hall on my way back to the kitchen.

Her eyes widened and then she smirked. "What house are you in?"

"Gryffindor," I answered, unnerved by her maniacal smirk.

She tutted and giggled. "Really?"

"She is, Gills. Now get lost," Darren snapped.

"Oh, I don't think so," her smirk intensified and her eyes darkened, "Ella."

I frowned at the little girl, confusion clouding over my senses from the cold. I stayed silent.

"You're not in a house," she stated, grinning maliciously. "I know you're not. Now, the question is, what in Merlin's name are you doing here of all places?"

I was certain my heart stopped for a second or two. No way did she know. How could she? I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and maintained my expression of confusion. It was hard enough focusing on breathing properly let alone how I looked.

"What are you banging on about?" Darren asked.

"Devious, aren't you, Ella? How could you not tell sweet Darren?" she taunted. "Are you scared? Does someone want a cuddle under the blanket?"

I stood speechless, my breathing short and sharp and fast. "Abigail."

Her grin widened and she smacked my shoulder. "You finally caught on! Well done! You were always the slow one."

My head was shaking frantically from side to side. What happened to her? No. No this couldn't be. What had changed my angelic little sister into…this?

"Abigail," Darren called, using my sister's full name for the first time, "go."

She hummed. "Mmm nope. Don't think I will. So, tell me – no, tell us, Ella – what are you doing here? Hm?"

Nothing was working: my voice, my mind, my mouth. The only thing that I was capable of deciphering was my erratic heart.

"Cat got your tongue?" Abigail pouted, her wide eyes staring up at me. "No? Nothing to say? What a shame. It would have been a nice thing to tell the parents, you know, what you're doing here, how you got here. I'm sure they'd love to know."

"Abi…"

"Oh! Ella can talk!"

"Ella, what's going on?" Darren asked me, retreating from his ignored orders on Abigail. His hand was feather light on my arm, almost like a caress of the barest slither of warm sunlight.

"This is the date you were talking about!" Abi laughed, putting together his affection towards me. "You asked Ella!"

We ignored her. Darren attempted to get me to answer him again.

"You're killing Darren here, Ella. You should tell him."

He looked between the two of us, my face most likely frightened and pale. He didn't push the matter.

"GO ON!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the corridor. It was only a matter of time before Mrs Norris alerted Filch. Perhaps I could hold off until they came and he dragged her away. God, please let Filch be useful for once. "Tell him! Now. Tell him now. Does your precious Darren not deserve to know? Tell him!"

Her voice was restless and loud. In a few seconds she ceased her yelling. "Ok then. I'll tell him."

I faced her completely and shook my head. No! No, she couldn't tell him! This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

She gave me a wink and then turned to Darren, lightly rocking on her feet before leaning into whisper conspiringly to Darren.

"Dearest Ella here is a squib."

Moments passed where all evidence of life ceased to show but the roaring winds. I had always thought that a silence like this would happen to other people in other lives, like the ones so often seen in movies. The dramatic pauses that last light-years and have no purpose but to extend tension. This silence was not one of tension. It was shattered by Darren's laughter.

"Don't be daft, Gills. This is a new low, even for you."

His response didn't faze her, and she continued grinning. "Funny, huh? Show him your wand," she said to me.

My head dropped, my eyes staring at the floor. I didn't want to see Darren's face as to my reluctance to show him a wand I didn't have. I didn't want to see him when he realised the truth.

"Ella," his voice called, "where's your wand?"

I swallowed, exhaled a deep breath, and slowly lifted my eyes. With all the energy I could muster I shook my head. Darren frowned at me.

"No wand?"

I shook my head again.

"So…you lost it?"

I blinked and shook my head.

"You're…you're a…"

I couldn't do it. My eyes left his again and I nodded.

"There, now was that so hard?" Abigail's voice sang. My blood boiled and my stomach lurched. I was going to be sick. "I can only assume that your status as squib scum means the oh-so mighty Dumbledore took you in. You work here?"

I said nothing; did nothing.

She smacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "I take that as a yes. Well then! Darren, shall we?"

For a moment, I thought he would ignore her again, to yell out against her and claim he didn't care about my magical status. After all, this was the boy who had asked a suspected Gryffindor to the Yule Ball!

But apparently a Slytherin with a Gryffindor was the longest stretch.

The sound of her skipping away was slowly fading, followed by Darren's heavy feet. How was it we always managed to bump into each other without me hearing him?

"Oh, and darling," Abigail called out, "you'll be needing another date for the ball. Darren here can't even look at you, let alone dance with you!"

And with that, my once sweet sister now turned malicious, sauntered away, shattering my resolve.

I watched him leave. He didn't look back. How did everything change so rapidly?

I couldn't sleep that night. The darkness played with my thoughts, taunting and teasing me as I tossed and turned away from demons, only to be met with more. Eventually, I gave up and stared into the fire in the kitchen. I was sniffling, from the cold or the tears, or maybe even both. I didn't even try to stop; I had to let myself break down. But they were silent tears. This wasn't breaking down. Hard, painful, heart shattering sobs was breaking down. This was quiet confusion, weak sadness and lonely recovering. But I wouldn't be able to recover until I broke down. It was a vicious cycle.

The house elves were buzzing with energy from the second they woke up, preparing the castle for the ball. It started at eight o'clock but they wasted no time, gathering ingredients for the luxurious meals and designing the decorations for the Great Hall. Even Bonnie was caught up in the festive cheer, greeting me with a brief hello before scurrying off.

The armchair was where I spent my entire day. I did move every once in a while to observe the meals and unpack a few items from my bags, but I was too numb to stay up for long. And seeing the pale gold dress folded neatly within the black plastic urged me to lock myself out of my dorm forever.

When the time got closer to the beginning of the ball I went up to the Great Hall to help the finalising of the decorating. If I couldn't attend the ball, I bloody well was going to see it take shape. The corridors were empty so I had no trouble getting caught. Bonnie managed to get me into the Great Hall (it was locked to any students attempting to come in before) and I gasped at the beauty.

It was a wonderland full of magic. The trees stood tall and were covered with marvellous baubles and…snow? Whether it was real or not I wasn't sure. The long house benches were gone, now replaced by smaller circular tables with fantastic centre pieces and the gold plates and cutlery set out to perfection. The sky reflected the perfect winter scene of gracefully falling snowflakes.

I felt a pang, realising I could only admire the ethereal beauty without the presence of the other students and the professors, without the music setting the mood and beating life into the room.

It wasn't too long until I retreated back to the kitchen.

The announcements were loud and boomed in the kitchen, as did the music, threatening to damage my ears. It started off as a simple waltz, and if I closed my eyes I could clearly see the champions with their partners. In the midst of my imagining Harry with his partner, the young adolescent stiff and mechanical in his movements an image of a twin came into my head. Were they waltzing also? It didn't seem likely; they were far too outgoing for a simple routine dance. I cast the scene out as quick as it came, missing the female partner, and thus puzzled on the identity of the twin.

The waltz stopped, replaced by a fast paced song. I could almost feel the vibrations from the jumping and thumping of the bodies above. This was music for the twins.

Mugs littered the floor around me as the night went on and the music dragged. I held tightly onto one, absorbing all the heat from it before gulping down the remnants and dropping it. I sighed as the song changed again and got up, more hot chocolate on my mind. Was Darren up there now? Dancing with a Slytherin like himself, like my sister? I didn't want to think about them. Not now.

The pear giggled. The door swung open.

With my new mug in hand I turned and then stopped.

"Hey."

"Hi."

We stood there, taking in one another. He was dressed in a navy blue shirt, sleeves rolled up, showing firm arms, and a loosened yellow bowtie, his black dress robes hanging from the crook of his elbow. His red hair was an absolute mess.

"Can I have one?" he asked, nodding to my mug.

Wordlessly I nodded, handed him my mug and made myself another. He seated himself in one of the armchairs, his head rested back and his eyes closed. He looked knackered.

"How was Ottery?"

I shrugged. "It was good."

"I'm sorry," he said.

I wanted to laugh and yell, one before the other or at the same time. "For what?"

"Being an arse. Not seeing you before you left."

I nodded in acceptance of his apology.

"Did you enjoy the ball?" I asked. It was odd, not knowing which twin I was talking to but still feeling as if I knew. It was indescribable, really.

"Was alright," he answered, shrugging as if it were the most casual and normal event to be at, like a weekly family dinner. "Did you? I didn't see you."

I swallowed some of the scalding liquid, relishing in the distraction of the burn. "You looked for me?"

"I…yeah. I guess."

"I'm sorry…for everything I said before. Angelina gave me hell tonight."

Fred. This was Fred. This knowledge made my insides squirm.

"You deserved it."

"I know. I'm sorry."

I couldn't help but giggle. "Stop apologising."

He smirked. "Well would you hurry up and forgive me already?"

"Do I have to say it?" I asked teasingly.

"Would be much appreciated."

"You're forgiven, Fred."

He grinned. "I'm George, you idiot."

I spluttered on my hot chocolate and scrutinised him carefully. I grinned. "Nope, you're definitely Fred."

"And how would you know?"

I tapped the side of my nose and winked. We settled into a comfortable silence. He jumped off his armchair and grabbed my hand, pulling me off mine and settling down on a bench with desserts.

"Did you not eat enough up there?" I laughed, watching him swallow a massive spoonful of cake.

"All that dancing's made me hungry again," he mumbled, spraying cream over me.

"You're a pig."

"A tasty one, I hope," he winked an exaggerated, obnoxious wink, pointing his spoon at my mouth, smearing some food over my face and forcing it closer until I ate it.

"Shove off, git!" I laughed, pushing him away as he flew the 'broomstick' in the air before making a show of it landing near my nose.

"Well, if you don't want it…"

Through our laughter I hadn't noticed his face closing in on mine. As I wiped some cream off my cheeks I felt something slide across my face. It started on my nose, then slid down to the corner of my mouth and ended at my other cheek.

"Mmm, yummy."

Fred licked his lips and winked at my disgusted expression.

"You licked me!" I shrieked, wiping my face with my hands vigorously. His laughter intensified.

"You were going to waste it."

"No I wasn't!"

"Aw, is little Princess afraid of a little bit of Weasley germs?" he mocked. Fred stuck his tongue out again and leaned in closer. I pushed him away before he got to me this time.

"Piss off!" I giggled.

We calmed down and moved onto a foreign dessert. I ate greedily, willing my body to catch up on the meals I had missed. The music was background noise now, no longer the focus of my attention.

"When did you leave?" Fred asked.

"Hm?"

"When did you leave the ball?" he reiterated. "None of us saw you or Darren, and you're not in dress robes."

My eyes dropped to the bowl in front of me, my spoon dancing in the goo.

"I didn't go," I murmured.

"But…" his eyebrows were furrowed. "You said –"

"Turns out you were right," I said, smiling lightly.

Instantly his eyes hardened and he clenched his fists. "That fucking –"

"Fred!" I exclaimed. How easy it had been for his mood to turn! The boy certainly had a temper.

"How dare he! That bastard!" Fred stood and paced the kitchen rapidly, his hands running through his hair and mussing it up further. "I'll kill him. I swear I'll bloody –"

"Don't even go there," I warned, standing in front of him. His cerulean eyes were shadowed, masking him with a look of darkness.

"Why shouldn't I?" he spat.

"Because that was you not too long ago, Fred," I spoke softly.

He staggered back, almost as if I had slapped him. The shadows lifted and he was Fred again. "I'm sorry."

My hand met his and I squeezed it. A simple gesture. I led him back to the armchairs. There was still music playing, quieter than how it was at the beginning of the ball but still loud enough to resonate in the kitchen. I checked the time, seeing it was almost midnight.

"Did you really think I hated you because you're a squib?" he asked.

"Didn't you?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Hell no."

I didn't have to ask him why.

"Have you ever had someone with you for your entire life that you shared absolutely everything with, and then one day you find out they had this humungous secret which they kept? That they…they liked the fact that they could be separated from their other half? Do you know how that feels?" I shook my head. "Betrayal." He scoffed. "I felt as if I wasn't good enough for my own brother, that I didn't deserve to know his other friend that he'd been hiding from me for years. For those few moments I didn't feel like his twin. I was just someone walking through life with him, going through the motions but not engaging with them. I felt replaced. Cheated.

"I'm sorry that it had to be you to be on the other end of that. I really am. You're...cool," he chuckled. "I see why Georgie boy wanted you all to himself now."

"I'm sorry you felt that way," Fred brushed my comment away. "No, seriously. I was pretty mad at George too for not telling me he was a twin. He told me all about you but left that bit out."

"Hell, if he'd told me about you I wouldn't have minded so much, greedy git."

I laughed. It felt amazing to have heard from Fred that he didn't hate me at all for my status. I felt a million times lighter.

Fred checked the time, and leaped off the armchair. He smirked, sauntering over to me with a wiggle in his hips and a skip in his step. I couldn't help but laugh, he looked ridiculous. He reached his hand out to me and winked.

"I believe this is the last song for the night and seeing as my Princess hasn't even had a dance, I say we share this one."

Without a second thought I placed my hand in his, relishing in the feel of the clammy skin. He seized it and yanked me up, forcing my body to collide into his. The song playing was slow and gentle, but from the mischievous twinkle in his eyes this dance was going to be anything but.

He held each of my hands within his, holding them high. I was completely lost to his movements so I followed him with my eyes at first, watching his one leg shimmy forward and then back, soon mimicked by the other. His hips wriggled and he waved his arms. It was possibly the most bizarre dance.

"What are you doing?" I giggled, trying to extract my hands from his. He gripped tighter.

"Dancing," he replied with a wink, his smirk never leaving. "Or would you rather something like this?"

His hands left mine, moving to my waist and pulling me closer to him. My eyes were locked on his in an intense stare which neither of us were backing down from. It was a war with our gaze, dominant and confident. His dancing slowed to the point we were swaying on the spot.

And then his fingers ran over ribs firmly and I jumped, squealing in laughter and cursing him. He chased me around the kitchen in a game of cat and mouse. It didn't last long, he had his arms around me in an instant again, pulling my back flush against him as he picked me up, my legs kicking in the air in front of us.

"You're such an arse," I chuckled through my forceful breathing.

"What was that? I have such a magnificent arse? Why thank you, love," Fred boomed, leaning over and smacking his bum.

The music hummed to a quiet end above us and footsteps could be heard retreating to respective common rooms. "So much for that dance," I said, glaring playfully at Fred.

He slowly made his way to me and gently gathered my hands in his. With careful hands, he pulled me in close, so close his lips brushed over my ear and his breath warmed my skin. "You don't need Darren. You shouldn't have been in the position to consider him even asking you. I'm sorry."

His voice was serious, and it unnerved me. I wasn't used to this Fred. Angry Fred, funny Fred, spiteful Fred and flirty Fred I could deal with. Serious Fred was a whole new level.

"Who needs music anyway!" he said, grinning. "You shall have your dance."

With that, he jumped back, back into the Fred I liked best and…danced. It was the oddest thing ever, watching him turn and wiggle and thrust and wave himself to silence, and then eventually to my laughter. He wouldn't have this. He grabbed my hands and forced me into an eccentric dance, one where no rules applied, no true form or pattern, just our bodies moving randomly.

We danced without the restriction of time until the fire in the fireplace fizzled out, until we tired ourselves to exhaustion in an armchair, ignoring the vacant others. We shard our warmth that night.

I hadn't gone to the Yule Ball. And I loved it.