...

Part iii.

Chapter 28

laxatives in the frog

July-August.

By the summer of 1997, the British Ministry of Magic was in complete and utter turmoil. Having spent the past year denying the resurrection of the Darkest Wizard of All Time, the Ministry had been proven unequivocally wrong when Voldemort himself was seen by the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Fudge released a statement the very next day, apologizing for his 'indiscretions' and 'obliviousness'. He pleaded with the public to understand and asked for their selfless forgiveness.

He was, of course, fired within hours. The Wizengamot deemed Fudge's actions inexcusable and Wizarding World was outraged and demanded he resign. Fudge did so, and left his office with a bowler hat low on his head and a cardboard box of his belongings, his metaphorical tails between his legs. As he walked out of the Ministry, the flashing of cameras following his every move, he apologised once more before flooing home.

It took only a few days for a new Minister to be appointed. Rufus Scrimgeour, previous Head of the Auror Department, stepped up to the plate, declaring he would take 'tough' measures towards Voldemort and his followers. His ideas and promises were met by enthusiastic support, especially from parents worried about their children's safety not only in the Wizarding World, but also at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"No tolerance policy, that's what he said," several people affirmed throughout the Ministry with a slight nod and a steely clench to their jaw. "That's what we need nowadays—all these Deathy Eaters or whatever need to be locked away."

"And we should throw away the key," their companions would agree.

However, there was a very small group of people that were not happy about Scrimgeour's new position. Mainly, these people consisted of Order of the Phoenix members. Albus Dumbledore, although diplomatic about the whole scenario, could not hide his displeasure at Scrimgeour's loud declarations that everyone in the Wizarding World was safe and secure. Death Eaters, Scrimgeour stated, were not a safety issue; the Auror's had everything under control.

The weeks went by. Scrimgeour continued to bellow his ideologies, his reassurances that everything was fine. Yes, You-Know-Who was back, but that didn't mean people were in danger. The Ministry had everything under control.

By August, Alastor Moody was openly calling Scrimgeour a, "Bloody plonker," but considering said Auror also had a magical all-seeing eye, a wooden leg he often used to throw at people, and a penchant for chasing people and setting things on fire in the process, nobody took much notice.

Lara Culpepper felt like she was caught between two worlds; the world of her Ministry job and the world of her association with the Order. A vast majority of her co-workers were overjoyed by Scrimgeour's regimes; not only was he admitting to Voldemort's presence and throwing supposed Death Eaters in Azkaban left, right and centre, he'd also reappointed Dumbledore as Chief Wizengamot. After a whole year of Dumbledore's name being dragged through the mud by an over-sized pink toad, his former students and friends were ecstatic that Dumbledore was back where he belonged, and Lara was inclined to agree.

But at night, hanging out with her friends and Order members, she spent the whole time listening to their complaints about Scrimgeour. He was in denial, they said heartily, passionately (because lives were on the line), and he needed to tell people they were in danger. He needed to admit that Voldemort and Death Eaters posed a massive, massive threat and people needed to prepare, because if people weren't prepared, they were going to die. And not only that, but under the new 'tough' regime, he was throwing Death Eaters in Azkaban without interviewing them, which meant important information about Voldemort was being lost.

(And a few of the more daring ones, like Walter Culpepper and Moody, said they were throwing innocent people in Azkaban; Stan Shunpike was a bit docile and oblivious, but he was no Death Eater.)

Lara tried to keep her mouth shut. She could understand both sides of the argument, but voicing this was difficult at such a turbulent time. Everyone was emotional and sensitive and scared. So, so scared. The mere idea of Scrimgeour not having everything under control was unthinkable, because that would mean Voldemort was powerful and his followers were strong and that would mean—

Well, it was inconceivable to imagine what that would mean. If Voldemort took over the Ministry, if he got control…nobody was safe.

Sighing, Lara stared at the paperwork in front of her, rubbing the temples of her head. She could feel a headache coming on, a more and more common occurrence in her life lately. Among everything else, she wasn't sleeping very well, her brain constantly going over scenarios and possible outcomes.

She thought of a Hufflepuff boy with a crooked smile and a man in his thirties who spent nearly half of his life in Azakaban for no reason. She thought of Fortescue being dragged from his store and Ollivander disappearing. She thought of her brother, who worried her more and more each day with his dedication to the Order, and she thought of her friends, three of whom were putting themselves in constant danger and one who she hadn't spoken to for almost a year now. She thought of all the people she loved in the world and how unsafe they all were. And she thought how much easier it would be to believe Scrimgeour, how simple it would be have complete faith in the Ministry.

Easy. Simple.

Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.

"Lara—hey, Lara."

"What? Sorry," Lara mumbled, lifting her head from her hands to look at her co-worker Olivia Poole. "What's up?"

"We're having a meeting in the Auditorium," Olivia said raising her eyebrows. "All departments."

"Right, okay. Now?"

"Ten minutes," Olivia answered before narrowing her eyes. "You okay?"

"Fine." Lara answered as she stood, looking across her desk towards her brother, but his chair was empty. Glancing around, she saw him near the coffee/tea area with Corey Wilcox. "I'll see you in the Auditorium," Lara said before heading towards the two men.

"—I don't see why he's calling another meeting," Corey was complaining as Lara got closer. "We had two last week. Like, we get it—tell the public we're safe and there's no need to worry. Whatever. I want to get home on time one day this week. My wife's gunna kill me—"

"It's all bullshit anyway," Walter replied bitterly. He huffed and then downed the rest of his tea, dumping the mug into the sink. "You-Know-Who's roaming the bloody streets—of course we're not safe."

Corey's face fell. "Merlin, I know. I don't know how people believe it—"

"People need something to hope for, I guess," Walter murmured and reached to pat Corey on the back. "Don't worry, mate, I've always been a pessimist. Maybe Scrim's got a better handle on this whole thing than I give him credit for."

Corey nodded quickly and rushed off to join their other co-worker, Melanie Terry, who also had kids waiting for her at home. They began hissing to each other with obvious displeasure; Melanie announced her boyfriend was making peppercorn chicken and it was going to be cold by the time she got home.

"Do you really believe that?" Lara asked, her voice quiet as she addressed her brother. "What you just said to Corey?"

"No." Walter said, his eyes on Corey and Melanie as their arms flailed overdramatically. "But he has two kids under seven…if he worries anymore, he'll end up in St Mungo's alongside Lockhart."

Lara's old DADA Professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, was a permanent resident at St Mungo's in the Janus Thickey Ward after an accident in Lara's fifth year. To this day, she didn't really understand what had happened; all she knew was that it involved Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, but what didn't involve those three where Hogwarts drama was concerned?

"We need to go to the Auditorium," Lara sighed, heading towards the exit door.

The Ministry workers were shepherded into the Auditorium, a large, cone-shaped room near the front of the Ministry. It was used for important events, parties, gatherings, and press releases. Usually, Ministry workers found themselves in this room three of four times a year; once for the Christmas party, and maybe two or three times for press releases by the Minister. This year, even though it was only August, everyone had been called to this room on at least a dozen separate occasions. Lara was away working for most of them so she'd only been inside three times (including today), but she could still understand everyone else's anger as they whispered amongst themselves, glaring at the stage and rolling their eyes; someone from the Sports department had even pulled his cap over his head and decided to take a nap.

Lara sat down in the rows of chairs, her arms and legs crossed. Walter was talking to someone from the Transportation Department in the row behind them, and they bonded over their mutual dislike for these 'press releases'. Lara just sat silently, waiting for Scrimgeour to appear.

He took fifteen minutes to walk out on the stage. The cameras gathered at the front began to click away, their bright flashes illuminating the stage. The Ministry workers slowly fell into silence, turning to the stage in various degrees of annoyance and irritation.

"Good afternoon," Scrimgeour said as he come up to the platform on the stage, his wand to his throat. The flashes increased, the crowd muttered, a press member at the front of the room tried to climb onto the stage only to be taken down by security. "I have called you here to dispel the continuous and displeasing rumours that the Ministry of Magic has been infiltrated by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers."

Ferocious murmuring spread across the room; Lara turned to Walter and rose her eyebrows. She hadn't heard anything about these 'rumours'…although she'd purposely tried to keep herself to herself recently.

"These rumours are not true," continued Scrimgeour, undeterred by the quiet chatter. "The Ministry of Magic is, as always, the safest and most secure organisation within the British Wizarding World. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not, and will not, infiltrate the Ministry. Dark wizards continue to be captured every day by our hard-working and capable Auror's. His followers are depleting, his power dulling. The Ministry is, first and foremost, concerned with your safety and your freedom. Any witch, wizard and magical creature that threatens your liberties will be debilitated and abolished. Your Ministry remains strong."

With one last look across the Auditorium, Scrimgeour turned on his heels and marched out of the room, his personnel quickly following. Among them, Lara could see a head of bright ginger hair; a Weasley. Percy Weasley, to be exact, Molly and Arthur's third son who had abandoned the family over a year ago. Fred had told her Percy and their dad had gotten into a 'fight' last summer in his letters, but it was George who informed her that Percy had actually disowned his family. To this day, Fred refused to talk about it, and whenever Percy was mentioned, Molly would promptly burst into tears.

Shaking her head, Lara stood with the other Ministry workers and wandered towards the floo network. She wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed, but she had patrol with Tonks tonight in Diagon Alley. Recently, the Order had increased in members; alongside Lara's school friends, Fred and George had also told their friends, who had eagerly joined the Order. However, the newer members were not yet fully trusted by Moody, who would, Lara was sure, forever be overly vigilant, and putting them on patrol was out of the question. For now, only 'distinguished' members were allowed to patrol, which apparently included Lara, and she wasn't sure if she was flattered or annoyed by this development.

Lara floo'ed home to grab something to eat before heading for Diagon Alley. Flooing into the second-hand bookstore, Lara went out onto the streets, which were rather quiet for a Friday night. Since Fortescue and Ollivander's disappearance, people had avoided the popular shopping village out of fear, and those who did dare to venture outside came in groups as part of the Ministry's new consensus of 'never travel alone'. They also came during the day, because it was common sense.

Only the reckless wandered the streets after six PM, mostly young adults who were determined not to the let the danger of the world ruin their fun. On the night patrol, Lara usually spent her time watching drunk people she recognised from school stumbling over the cobbled streets, laughing and clinging to each other with abundant cheer. Half of her thought they were stupid, but the other half was jealous; jealous they were so oblivious to what was going on, so ignorant to the world, they could still have fun without worry, without fearing if it could all end—forever—soon.

Passing Elphias Doge and another Order member Lara recognised but couldn't name, she nodded at them in greeting as she made her way towards the The Leaky Cauldron, the biggest hotspot for action—though not for Death Eaters, but for drunk people getting ready to fight each other or pass out on the ground.

Lara perched herself outside the pub at an old wooden table, where smokers usually gathered throughout the night. It was still warm for now, even in the early hours of the morning, though Lara dreaded to think what patrolling would be like in the winter—

"Hey."

Jumping in surprise, Lara looked up. In the darkness, propped against a large potted plant, Lara could just about make out a petite figure. Slowly, Tonks stepped out of the shadows and into the dim lights of the street lamps…except, it wasn't really Tonks. The Tonks Lara knew was preppy and cheerful, but this woman in front of her was miserable, her skin ashen and dry, her hair limp and scraggly. She had large black circles under her eyes and looked…sad.

"Tonks?" Lara gasped in surprise.

"Yeah," Tonks collapsed onto the chair opposite Lara, throwing her wand into the table. "I look like crap, I know. Molly's already told me. She made me take home two casseroles and an apple crumble."

Lara was shocked into silence for a long moment. "Merlin, what's wrong?" she asked concernedly. "Are you okay? Are you sick?"

"No," Tonks answered, then hesitated. "Well, I don't know. Not physically, but mentally…"

"Mentally?"

"It's just a lot, y'know?" she sighed resting her arms on the table, then her chin atop her hands. "Work, the Order, my parents, sleeping, eating…it's all a bit much."

"Oh," whispered Lara, her chest aching. "Yeah, I understand."

They were quiet for a long moment, lost in their own thoughts, and then Tonks spoke again, "Remus is on missions for the Order, did you know?"

"No, I didn't. I haven't seen that much of him since…since Sirius…" Lara trailed off unsurely.

"No one has," Tonks murmured. "He's…he's taken it pretty hard. Seems to think he needs to make up for it."

"Make up for it?"

"Yeah, he just…I think he wants to finish this. I know he wanted that anyway, but since Sirius died it's like…like he's desperate for the War to end. He wants to clear Sirius' name," Tonks explained quietly, her eyes staring off into the distance. "He's gone underground to talk to the werewolves. He's trying to get them to come over to our side, but he's gone alone. Nobody knows where he is; he only gets in touch about once a month, if that. Sends letters to Moody saying he's alive and that's it."

"Oh…"

"I told him I liked him," she blurted out suddenly, finally looking at Lara, her dark eyes wide and full of emotion. "Just before Sirius…I didn't plan it, I swear. I made a stupid comment about Sirius being good-looking because I wanted to see Remus' reaction, and he got all jealous and self-deprecating—something about how Sirius always got the women. I told him he was an idiot and he'd realise who I really liked if he wasn't so busy feeling sorry for himself to notice."

"Harsh, but true. Isn't that a good thing?"

"No," Tonks said, and her bottom lip wobbled slightly. "He looked happy at first I thought…I thought this is it. This is our happily ever after…but then he changed. He was horrified. He apparated away and then…then a few days later, I was talking to Moody and he told me Remus had gone undercover with the werewolves. He didn't even say goodbye."

"Oh, Tonks," Lara murmured reaching over to grab the older woman's hand. "I'm so sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have encouraged you to tell him—"

"No, no, you should," Tonks said, grabbing Lara's hand tightly. She sniffled before continuing, "Don't you see? He likes me. He's just too afraid to admit it, but I can convince him…I can…I just don't know where he is…"

"Tonks, I…some werewolves are dangerous, he might, y'know…—"

"I know," cried the metamorphmagus, shoving her free hand to her face. "I know, the bloody idiot! I can't believe him!"

"You know what he's like," Lara scoffed. "Too moral for his own good. He thinks he needs to make up for being a werewolf, but he doesn't. He's the nicest, sweetest man I've ever met in my life."

"Merlin, I know."

"He was my favourite teacher, too."

"Did you tell him that?" Tonks whispered, her lips quirking. "He'd like that."

"I'll tell him when he comes back."

"If." Tonks sniffed, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

"Maybe you need a distraction," Lara said softly. "Do you like Gobstones—"

"Actually, I'm being stationed at Hogwarts next month. Dumbledore wants me around—Order member and all," Tonks said, smiling a little. "So I'll be there a lot, probably stay in Hogsmeade quite a bit."

"That's great, it sounds like a distraction," smiled Lara. "I'll miss you, though. Who will I patrol with?"

"I think Moody's coming round to the idea of having new recruits," Tonks snorted. "You'll probably get one of your friends, so that'll be good."

"You're my friend," Lara replied simply. "And if you ever need to, like…talk or whatever, you can owl me. Or come to my place. Or I can come to Hogsmeade. I can even bring Erin—she likes girly shit like this."

"Girly shit?"

"Feelings and stuff," Lara's nose automatically scrunched, and Tonks let out a small laugh (it was the first time she'd laughed for nearly a month). "I get awkward, but she'll bring ice cream and talk all night about it all. She'll even do your hair and make-up in-between."

"Some pampering sounds nice," Tonks smiled gratefully, and the two women shared a friendly grin before, suddenly, two men stumbled out of The Leaky Cauldron swinging punches, starting their patrol.

At midnight, the duo swapped with two other Order members. Tonks apparated home, muttering something about her mum and how she'd be waiting with tea and biscuits, while Lara began to head through Diagon Alley. She'd planned to go home, but waking up in the morning to an empty house suddenly did not sound appealing. Walter was spending his weekends with Charlie Weasley, apparently planning something to do with work and the Order in one, and although she was invited along, Lara chose to have the weekends to herself. And by 'to herself', she meant in-between Order duties and overtime at the Ministry.

She found herself walking towards Fred and George's shop. The twins usually stayed up later on the weekends, sometimes to spend time with friends and other times to work on inventions. Lara wasn't sure if midnight was a bit too late, but as she walked towards the shop, she could see a light streaming out the small curtain cracks of the upstairs window.

A grin stretching across her face, Lara walked to the front door, muttered a few spells and punched in the password for the security alarm the twins had set up, and entered the shop. After locking everything behind her, she used lumos to find her way through the rooms and to the staircase, where she climbed the stairs to the landing and the front door of the flat. She paused to knock lightly on the door before walking inside.

Fred and George were stretched across a couch each, both in their boxer shorts and an old t-shirt. George was asleep with a bag of crisps on his chest, crumbs all over his face. Fred was trying to throw sweets into his mouth and, by the looks of the pile of jelly pieces around him, kept missing. At Lara's arrival, George did not wake, but Fred sat up and grinned at her.

"What're you doing here?" he asked quietly.

"I need some noise," Lara answered shortly, closing the door behind her. "Walter's going to see Charlie again."

"Again?" grumbled Fred. "Do you think they're together?"

"It's a possibility," Lara shrugged. "I'm pretty sure Walter's open to that."

"Huh." Fred hummed, looking thoughtful. "Anyway—let's go into my room. Leave him to fester."

Taking her hand, Fred led Lara to his bedroom, a large rectangular room on the right of the hallway. Fred lit the few candles around his room as Lara sat on the bed, kicking off her plimsoles and stripping off her cardigan. Sat in just her summery skirt and floral camisole, Lara stared off into the distance, her head ringing with thoughts and questions. She wondered, briefly, if she could get a sleeping potion, just to have one decent night of rest.

"Hey," Fred crawled across the bed, wrapping his long, beefy arms around Lara's shoulders. "Can I show you something?"

"Sure."

Fred leapt off the bed and towards his one window, which rested on his back wall. He pushed aside the thick curtains and opened the window. For a second, he turned back towards Lara and threw her a wide smile, and then he was climbing through the small hole.

"Fred." Lara hissed, rushing towards him. "What are you doing?"

She honestly half expected him to be splattered across the cobbled floor, but instead she found him perched on a small, dark brick roof. It was around the back of the shop, the bin area below them, another building in front of them. The view wasn't exactly amazing, though it was dark and eerie, Fred's freckled face cast in a soft golden hue from the distant street lamps.

"There's a roof, you doughnut," he snorted, winking at her. "What did you think I was gunna do? Fly?"

"Who knows with you? You could have made, like, a pretzel that makes you float or something."

"That's a good idea, actually," he smirked and then patted the small space next to him. "Come on, climb out."

Figuring she'd done much scarier things, Lara carefully crawled through the window and onto the roof, sitting crossed-legged on the cold brick. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a slow, deep breath. The fresh air filled her lungs, making them ache inside her. A small smile came to her face.

"Ah, there's that smile," Fred said and Lara's eyes popped open to find him staring at her. "I was worried for a minute there."

"Sorry, long day."

"Long week—long year."

"Yeah," she snorted, shaking her head. "Why haven't we been out here before?"

"This is for special occasions," Fred said solemnly as he pulled his hands from around his back. "As are these."

Lara looked down at his open hand, which had two cigars resting in the palm. "I don't like smoking. It makes me cough," she smirked.

"I know," Fred nodded. "Which is why this is for you."

His other hand popped open, revealing a chocolate frog. Lara laughed loudly, throwing her head back as she reached for the confectionary. Fred wiggled his eyebrows smugly as he brought one of the cigars to his lips and whipped out his wand from his boxers, lighting the cigar end.

"I don't even want to know where that wand was," sniggered Lara, ripping open her sweet box.

Fred sucked on the cigar and then blew out a cloud of thick smoke before he said, "Don't lie, Lala. There's no one else around. You can admit how utterly ravishing you find me."

"I'm with you for the money, didn't you know?"

"You mean it's not because of our animal magnetism?" Fred gasped, and then coughed up half a lung, his eyes watering and everything. As he caught his breath, Lara howled with laughter at his side. "Ha-ha, laugh it up, Culpepper. Just know I've put laxatives in your frog."

"You have not."

"No, I haven't, but I should have."

Lara snapped off the head of the frog, her eyes never leaving Fred's. "You like me too much," she said eventually. "Plus, if you put laxatives in the frog, that would mean I'd be on the toilet all night instead of in bed with you, and you'd never do that."

"We could squeeze a few go's in-between the toilet trips…"

Lara reached over and thumped him softly in the leg, making Fred snicker. "Maybe you need to have a chat with Bill about your skills in the bedroom…"

"Bill?"

"There's a reason Fleur's so happy," grinned Lara. "And I don't think it's Bill's Engleesh skills."

"Bugger off," Fred scoffed and, to Lara's surprise, flushed a bright shade of red.

"What?" Lara said, her grin widening.

"What, what?"

"You're blushing."

"I am not—"

"You are." Lara said simply, eyeing him. He shuffled uncomfortably and had another puff of his cigar. "Oh my God, you've already talked to him—"

"I—n-no I haven't—"

"You have," gasped Lara. "When?"

Fred narrowed his eyes at her. Unrepentant, Lara sat up straighter and clapped her hands together in anticipation. "Winter last year, when dad was hurt," Fred blurted out quickly, his ears turning red. "Once we knew dad was okay and stuff, we were hanging out at Grimmauld Place. People started going to bed, and it ended up just being me, George, Bill, Sirius and Remus. George kinda…mentioned you and…well, it came out we'd had sex just before you graduated, so Sirius started giving me tips and Bill just joined in. Remus just looked as uncomfortable as me, and George was laughing as his arse off…until I mentioned Patricia Stimpson, anyway."

"Okay, there's so many things about that story," Lara laughed brightly. "What tips did you get? I think I can guess, but I want to know specifics. What did Bill say specifically? What did Sirius say? Did Remus mention anyone? And what the hell happened with Patricia?"

"That would be breaking guy code," Fred tapped his nose, his eyebrows raising. "Didn't I tell you he and Patricia had a thing in seventh year?"

"A thing?"

"Yeah. So, we were in Dumbledore's Army, right?" grinned Fred, instantly more relaxed now they weren't focused on him. "So we were getting into loads of trouble, 'cause we hated Umbridge or whatever. Patricia was Head Girl, so she was really pissed at us all the time. She spent half the year shouting at us, I swear, but then it sort of turned into worry once she found out about the Black Quills. So one night, George had detention for shouting out in class and I didn't—I was sent to McGonagall for something else—and he came back to the common room. Patricia was there reading, saw him and helped him with his hand. He says that she was lecturing him about his rule breaking and then the next thing he knew, they were snogging on the couch."

"No."

"Yes!" Fred cried dramatically. "So they did this for a while—he breaks the rules, she lectures, they snog. Then, one night just before Christmas, we were testing our products on first years—don't look at me like that, they got paid—and she comes over, absolutely furious. She and George start arguing, she storms off, he follows, I stay behind packing up our stuff and just head for the common room. George didn't come back for, like, an hour or something, and when he did he just collapsed onto his bed and he was like, 'mate, me and Patricia shagged'."

Lara's hand smacked to her mouth. "Oh my fucking Merlin."

"I know—so, they avoid each other, all awkward and shit until Christmas. I, meanwhile, find this whole situation hilarious, especially after all the shit he gave me about you. Then after Christmas, they run into each other again in the common room and they sleep together again, and it just sort of continued. I swear they hated each other, like, 80% of the time, and she never hung out with us or anything, just sort of appeared suddenly and disappeared just as quick. George tried to talk to her about it, but the closer it got to N.E.W.T.S. the more stressed she got and she just sent him away, and then we decided to leave anyway."

"Wow." Lara breathed, her mouth hanging open in shock and amusement. "Wow. I can't believe I missed this! I can't believe you didn't tell me until now! Do you know how much teasing I've missed out on—"

"With the shop and everything, I just forgot," he laughed. "Oh Merlin, I can't believe I forgot. It was the best thing."

"That and the sex-tip talk you had with your older brother, a former mass murderer and your old Professor," smirked Lara, and Fred turned instantly red again. "That's therapy worthy shit, Weasley."

"Don't remind me," he grumbled bitterly, putting the cigar back to his lips. "Sirius went into graphic detail, too."

"Well…it was good advice, if it's any consolation," Lara admitted quietly, fiddling with her chocolate frog card. "You'd, eh…improved when you came home. I actually thought you'd been practicing at school with a prefect or something…"

"Nah, George took all the good ones," Fred joked, then smirked widely. "I'd improved?"

"Not that you were bad before…well, I don't think you were, anyway. I don't really have anything to compare it to, and it was my first time, but…y'know. You're better than me at the whole thing."

"Untrue," Fred snorted instantly. "Definitely untrue."

"I got tips from Amanda," Lara said quietly. Fred's face instantly hardened at the mention of her former friend. "She was, eh…good at that stuff…once upon a time."

"Fuck Amanda," snapped Fred. "Well, not literally, but whatever."

"She's my friend."

"Well, you're not hers," he huffed. "Not after the way she treated you."

Lara didn't have anything to say; he was, after all, quite right. The Amanda she chose to remember was smart, confident and sexy, not the depressed, aggressive and mean person from their last meeting. She forgot, sometimes, that Amanda was no longer Amanda. Sometimes, it was like Hogwarts was only last week and they were simply in the summer holidays. And yet, other times, it felt like Hogwarts was a lifetime ago, and Lara's heart would ache not only with nostalgia, but pain—pain that her former best friend—who had helped her study, built up her confidence and always, always supported her—no longer existed.

Lara tried to convince herself that they'd simply lost touch, like most school friends did. She liked to pretend there was no bad blood; they'd just lost touch, and one day they may run into each other and reconnect. And maybe one day they would, but for now it was all still so raw. Even thinking about it now, Lara could feel her blood beginning to boil and her stomach churn.

"You're cute asking for tips," Lara said instead, turning her attention back to Fred, because he was here and he was kind and sweet and caring and hot.

"I didn't ask," he mumbled. "I was just given."

"Even so, you could have walked away and you didn't, 'cause you wanted to be good for me," she inched towards him, climbing into his lap. He wrapped his free arm around her while moving the one with the cigar away from her, so the smoke didn't assault her face. "You're sweet…sometimes."

"Sometimes." He agreed. "Mostly for you."

"And George."

"Meh."

She flicked his wide chest, then curled the hand around the back of his neck, pulling his face towards hers. "You don't fool me with your fake unconcern," she smirked staring into his dark eyes. "You care more than anyone I know, you just don't know how to show it."

"I know how to show you."

"Thanks to Sirius. And Bill."

"Don't say that again," Fred cringed. "Sirius had hand movements—it was scarring."

"What about tongue movements?"

"Lara."

"Sorry, my bad," she giggled, "My mind wandered. Sirius was fit back in the day."

"Excuse you," scoffed Fred.

"You're fit, too."

"Damn right."

She brought him into a searing kiss, her hands exploring his thick shoulders and muscled chest. He didn't play as much Quidditch anymore, so he was less toned than when they were in school, but she quite liked it. It was a sign they were getting older, a sign they were growing up—together. And maybe, just maybe, if they stayed together, the two of them plus their friends and family, a unit, a support system, they could get through this bloody War, one way or another.

:):):):):):)