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J.K Rowling owns all.

Love and War
Chapter 7

News

The castle which acted as a headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix buzzed noise. It was not something uncommon. In fact with the amount of people residing within the structure, it would be uncommon for there to be no noise at all. All Fred Weasley could do, as he sat before his bedroom window, was tune the racket out. He stared out across the horizon, praying to a higher power, magic or not, to show him how to save his brother.

Much like his twin George, Fred was confined. Yes, it was not a cell but, his mother did station a guard at every exit. Okay, maybe he was exaggerating, he certainly was not getting tortured, but he did feel like a five-year-old. It was as if he was grounded for some prank he had pulled with George. But instead of being named a 'punishment', his mother was 'trying to protect him'. It was the kind nature of the task which fueled Fred's anger the most.

Sure, he was livid at his mother, at the Order, and even with his inability to assist the matter, but he was mostly upset with his father. It was so easy for Arthur to agree to wait in issuing a rescue mission. And now it was for Fred's own good to just wait out that decision? How could his father even process the idea of waiting when the only thought in Fred's head was a not very well planned plan of rescue? Every second Fred envisioned himself dramatically storm into the Malfoy Manor and getting his twin out of there. And, that is precisely why his mother basically imprisoned him. The smart witch even took his wand away, fearing he would apparate. To be honest, he would have.

Fred was contemplating climbing out the window and shimmying down the three-floor high drain pipe when he heard the frantic shouts of his mother echoing up the walls of the many stairways. A nervous fear shot through him as he remembered the recent collapse of the burrow and, with freshly sharpened war reflexes from completing his Order training, he burst through the door. The will to protect his family fueled his speed as he raced down the many stairs; the guards were too slow to stop him. He got half way down the second last flight when his mother's words became clearer, but he could not have just heard her say,

"George escaped!" She shouted, and Fred froze, his hand lightly hovering over the railing. "Fred! Fred! Come to the kitchen!" A soft smile graced his lips as he shook himself into action and entered the kitchen. The sight before him was something he had not seen since before Voldemort's return. The broad, toothy smile his mother had while his father spun her around the room with joy. Well, that made this seemingly endless wait completely worth it.

"Mum," Fred asked, his lips twitching upward with hopeful anticipation.

"Kingsley heard from the spy," Arthur's voice hummed through bits of his hearty laughter. He set his wife down back onto her feet before turning his attention to Fred. "He managed to lead George out of the manor with another captive. Kingsley just got the news. He is making his way through the woods until he is outside the detection ring before he apparates."

Fred almost fainted from happiness. His small grin finally broke out into a beaming smile. His brother was coming back. Thank Merlin for that 'precious spy'.

"My little boy, he's coming home to us." Molly's joyful tears glistened as she hugged Arthur tighter. Fred rocked back on his heels slightly, drinking in the moment, savouring the first shred of good news in a while. George was not dead. George was coming home. It was as if everything was coming together. Now, there was just one last family member to hear from.

"Did the spy say who the other captive was?" Fred asked after a few moments. "And how long until he would be outside the detection ring?"

"Well, the ring is quite large. He has to make his way completely outside the forest first, which may take a day or two, but then it is safe to apparate." Arthur answered, handing Fred a celebratory glass of fire whisky.

"And the other captive?" Fred pushed.

"Kingsley could not make out the name in the message, but we have to prepare an infirmary. They both could be injured." Arthur gestured to Molly, who nodded. She was humming to herself as she left the kitchen calling for Ginny. Fred started mentally calculating all the potions needed up in the infirmary. He would definitely need to help.

"You think it could be Granger?"

"Maybe, she has been gone for so long." Hesitating slightly, Arthur cleared his throat from the burn of the whisky, "Two months in this war is a lifetime." He cast his gaze downwards to the amber liquid, swirling it momentarily as if he was carefully wording his next few sentences. "S-she might be gone from this world, Fred. And if she isn't then, she must be in a great deal of pain. Two months of capture..."

Grasping his father's message as the words trailed off, Fred nodded slowly. He had not been tortured, fortunately, and was not sure how to relate to the pain. He was not entirely sure how he would handle it himself. He was sure George experienced it by now and shuddered at the thought. But, George was not captured nearly as long as Hermione.

With a barely noticeable wince, Fred swallowed another sip of his whisky. Hermione was family. She had been family since Ron's first year with that stupid stone business, and will always be family. It was a promise he and George made each other when they saw her crying after Ron was with Lavender. It was a promise they vocalised to her when George found her crying after her parents' memories were modified. The Weasleys were a big family, and Hermione Granger would always be a Weasley. She was his sister, and Fred had an obligation to look out for her. And the last thing he told her was how she looked like a blueberry at Bill's wedding.

Fred felt like an ass for it now, but at the time she laughed. She actually laughed at the insult, and it was his intent. Sure, she was all giggly from dancing with George, but she still let a little chuckle escape her lips at his wisecrack. George always said that Hermione never laughed enough, but she did then.

'Merlin, she probably would never laugh again if she did come home alive,' Fred thought. With a frown he swirled his whisky, trying to avoid the enviable thought: he almost hoped she had died to prevent the pain. The very thought made him feel guilty and he immediately started thinking of ways to rectify the very notion of her death. If she was coming home, he would help her. He was one of the only people talented enough to do it. He could make potions, he could fix wounds. Hell, he was a better healer than Madam Pomfrey when it came down to it. Sure, she was a healer and qualified, but considering how many ridiculous wounds he had fixed during the experimentation of pranks George and he went through. Fred would fix this.

"Still, it may be her right?" The tone of his voice was grim, but the hope which embodied his words rung, like one thousand bells in the air. Another member of his family alive and well; it was a chant that echoed in his mind. Plus, he was sure George would be stressing about her when he came home, and Fred was not certain if he would be able to handle a combination of guilt and repressed emotions from his twin brother.

"It may be." Arthur agreed as they both finished their glasses of whisky in one gulp.

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