"If none of the shops you went in are claiming that necklace as theirs, then I don't see the problem with keeping it."

I turned and gaped at Fred after he spoke. It was nearly twelve-thirty in the morning, which meant it was almost closing time at the Leaky Cauldron after another typical Friday night. The twins had come in around nine and seated themselves at the bar. I'd only had time to wave at them, but they'd waited until the pub cleared out before coming to sit at the table beside the one I was cleaning. It was then when I'd filled them in on my day with Rachel on Sunday, and the mysterious lady with the necklace.

"Fred," I said, turning to look at him in exasperation as the table in front of me continued to clean itself. "The last thing I need or want is to have some necklace that doesn't belong to me, whether it was stolen from a shop I went to or not. How do I know it wasn't stolen from somewhere else? How do I know that woman wasn't just trying to pin her crime on me? Honestly, I should just throw the stupid thing into the ocean."

"Yeah, I mean, it could be cursed, too," George pointed out.

"Yes, exactly!"

"You probably shouldn't have even touched it until you knew for sure," George went on. "Trust me, you can't be too careful."

Fred glanced at George and gave him a reassuring smile before looking at me. "Katie--George's girlfriend--touched a cursed necklace. Her seventh year at Hogwarts. She wasn't the target-she was just an unknowing pawn in someone else's plan to kill the headmaster, but..."

"What?" I asked in surprise. "Do students try to murder the headmaster often at your school?"

Fred and George snorted with laughter. "No," Fred answered.

"It's a long story," George said. "Ultimately, Voldemort was behind it. Sent a student to do all his dirty work and the student was pretty shit at being a murderer."

"Well, that's...good," I answered.

Fred and George laughed again. "I guess," George went on. "In the end, one of the teachers ended up killing the headmaster."

I gaped at them. "Merlin's beard," I muttered, turning back to the table in front of me. I was done cleaning it, so I grabbed my things and moved on to the next one. Fred and George got up and followed me, sitting down at the table I'd just finished cleaning.

"Just another day in the life," Fred went on. "You wouldn't be able to guess even half of the stuff that happened at school. Most of it had to do with Harry. Having an evil, murderous, world-domination seeking dark wizard after you does cause a lot of drama."

"I can imagine," I commented dryly, removing the few dirty dishes from the table in front of me and setting them in my bin with a chorus of clinking sounds. I waved my wand and the dishrag began scrubbing down the tabletop as I turned back to George. "Was Katie alright? After she touched the necklace?"

"She lived," George said with a shrug. He swallowed and shook his head. "She was brought to the school nurse first and then transferred to St. Mungo's. The nurse and all the Healers at the hospital said she was lucky to be alive. She was lucky she only touched the necklace with the tiniest bit of skin that was showing through a hole in her glove. Otherwise, she would have died."

I sighed and chewed my lip as I glanced away. "That must have been hard," I whispered, looking back at George.

He nodded and gave me a tight-lipped smile. "But it worked out. She's fine now. I just didn't want the same thing to happen to you."

I paused. "You're right. That makes sense. But it's too late now. I've touched it and nothing happened."

"That doesn't mean something couldn't happen if you were to wear it, or even if you keep it lying around," George said.

I thought that over for a moment before I turned back to the table, grabbed the dishrag out of mid air and began vigorously wiping the tabletop myself, just to have something to do. "This is exactly why I've got to get out of here. I don't know what I was thinking. I knew it wasn't smart to stay very long, but I-I let myself-" I broke off and took in a deep breath before tossing my dishrag into the bin of dirty dishes and turning around, leaning backwards against the table.

"Let yourself what?" Fred whispered. "Let yourself start feeling what it's like to have real friends and family? You let yourself start enjoying it? This is what it's supposed to be like, Soph. Friends are supposed to go shopping with you, celebrate your birthday with you...Family is supposed to be there for you and provide you with everything you need. You're not supposed to be afraid of them. You're not supposed to run away from them."

"I know that," I said, crossing my arms and staring down at my shoes. "But that was my life and now I'm afraid that if I lose momentum for even a second, my past will catch up to me. And now, other people's lives are at risk. The more people I grow attached to, the more complicated this all gets."

"How could anyone from home find you?" Fred asked. "You said you moved around America a bit before coming here. How could they possibly track you down? How could they possibly know what location you were going to pick?"

"I know, and that was obviously the point of keeping on the move, but like I said, I'm afraid of what happens if I lose momentum. If I stop moving and let them figure it out."

"Well, you have to stop moving sometime," Fred said. "Also, is there a reason why anyone would mess with you like this instead of just outright confronting you?"

I hesitated as I thought that over. Fred had a point. I'd always been afraid to think of what would happen if my foster father caught up to me. Not only had I succeeded in running away, but it was my second attempt. The scars on my back were an everlasting reminder of what had happened, too. I'd still managed to get away that day, but not without being severely injured. If he caught up to me again, I wasn't sure what would happen. And I didn't think I'd have the energy to escape again. Not to mention, he'd work even harder to not let me get away. I'd always just believed that if I was caught up to this time, I wouldn't survive it.

I shook my head in response to Fred's question before looking up at him wearily. "The only person I was ever afraid of following me was my foster father and I don't think he'd be hiding for this long if he had found me. He would've-well, he..." I swallowed and looked at Fred almost pleasingly, begging him to understand what I was getting at so that I wouldn't have to say it.

Fred and George were silent as they looked at each other before looking at me.

"Sophie," Fred began quietly. "Even though you don't say much about your home life, I think George and I have been able to piece together enough at this point. You don't have to confirm or deny it and you don't have to go into detail. But it's starting to come together now. The fact that you ran away and you're afraid of being followed, the fact that you flinch every time someone makes a sudden movement towards you and that you're not a fan of being touched in general, the fact that you're withdrawn and secretive. I told you I suspected when I first met you that you'd been through something tough, but I wasn't sure what. And now I'm starting to get it."

"Fred, stop," I said, gritting my teeth and looking away.

"Like I said, you don't have to respond, but I want you to know that if anyone is coming after you, they're going to have to go through us first."

I looked up in surprise and met Fred's eyes from where he was lounging sideways in the wooden booth, one arm resting on the back of it and the other resting on the table, his legs stretched out in front of him. He was staring back at me, a hard, determined look on his face.

"You're joking," I said quietly, my eyes wide. There was no way he could possibly be serious about being willing to take on my foster father in order to defend me. But at the same time, I knew he was serious.

"One thing you should know about me and George," Fred went on, "is that we will always defend our friends by doing whatever it takes."

My throat constricted at his words and I turned and looked away, unable to speak. I heard Fred and George stand up from the booth and tried to quickly compose myself.

"If you'd like," George said, turning towards me, "we can have Bill look at the necklace for curses and jinxes. He's good at that sort of thing considering it's his job and all." He smiled wryly.

"Right...I remember him talking about being a Curse Breaker when I met him before," I said. "He mentioned that he used to be in Egypt, but eventually came back."

Fred nodded. "He was breaking old curses that surrounded the treasure buried in tombs. But eventually he did come back and took a job working right in Gringotts and dealing with cursed objects. So he's trained in finding out not only if an object is cursed, but what curse it is and how to remove it. So there's no better person to check that necklace."

"That would be great, actually," I told him.

"There is one condition, though," Fred said with a smile.

"What's that?" I asked.

"You have to come with us to the Burrow on Sunday," Fred said. "That way you can be there and hear what he has to say yourself."

"Okay," I said after a pause.

"What, you don't like our family?" Fred asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

"No, it's not that," I answered quickly, a slight blush coloring my cheeks. "It's just that the last time I came over, it didn't go so well..."

"Ah, well, that was mostly my fault," Fred said with a smile. "I promise not to jump into the pond fully clothed again."

"Don't joke," I said quietly. "It wasn't really all that funny."

"No, I suppose not," Fred answered, his smile fading.

"I'll come over on Sunday," I said after a moment. It really didn't require much thought. As I'd said, it had nothing to do with Fred's family. They had been very nice when I'd first met them. The thing that had been difficult was the fact that Fred had gotten upset. But I couldn't blame him. Besides, I couldn't find out about Percy a second time. I already knew. So I couldn't see any reason for issue or discomfort on anyone's part.

"Excellent," Fred said, nodding. "Meet us at our flat at noon? We can go to the Burrow together."

"Sure."

"My family will be happy you're coming," Fred added. "They liked you."

"Can't see why. I was so quiet the last time I was there."

"Exactly," Fred chuckled. "It was a refreshing change of pace from the usual. We're a rather loud lot normally in case you didn't notice."

I gave him a brief smile. "Okay, so Sunday at noon, then."

"Sunday at noon," the twins repeated.

Salem, Massachusetts. April 2nd, 1692

I have just found out some good news-although I doubt it is good enough to keep all the worry at bay indefinitely.

I found out this morning that I am expecting a child. I was beginning to suspect, but I confirmed it today. I am only about two weeks along and due around the new year.

I had stayed home from the tavern due to the fact that I was feeling under the weather. I hadn't been able to keep anything down for a few days. I wanted to rest, but John and I have a tavern to run and I was weary about leaving my duties unattended to. But John insisted I stay home. I sat in bed for about two extra minutes than usual, and all the while, my thoughts were running wild. And then I got an idea.

I headed straight for the secret room my grandmother had built. The one that can only be accessed by her blood relatives and where I am able to practice all my magic in secret. At one point, I thought this room would be a sort of lifesaver. I'd never get caught this way. But it has become clear that one does not have to be caught actually performing magic in order to be accused these days.

In any case, I used an old detection potion my grandmother and mother had both used to confirm their pregnancies. It is quite simple, really. All it takes is one drop of the potion in a steaming cup of herbal tea and depending on what you taste, you will know whether or not you are carrying a child. The sweeter taste means you are, and the bitter taste means you are not. I had three cups of tea to be sure. They all tasted sweet as honey.

I don't know how long I sat there, just processing the information, but soon I could hear the footsteps of Mary Warren, our servant girl, above me in the kitchen and that jolted me out of my thoughts. I snuck upstairs quickly, making sure to check that she was still in the kitchen and not paying attention. She knows nothing about that secret room and must never find out. She has already been stirring up trouble as it is, such as when she joined the other girls in claiming that Tituba put a spell on them.

I told John the news over dinner. He was so happy. The look on his face...I had not seen him smile that wide for a long while. But then it faded.

"Lizzie," he whispered. "I fear that we have picked a terrible time to expect a child."

And as excited as I was, I agreed with him.

"The good news," he told me, "is that if you are accused, they will not kill you if you are with child."

"But you, on the other hand..." I muttered.

John just nodded solemnly.

"And once I give birth..."

He nodded again. "It will only simply buy some time."

"And what about the baby?" I asked, fear beginning to take over my insides completely, sucking away any happiness and excitement that had been blooming inside me like a garden since this morning.

"Hard to say," John answered.

I buried my head in my hands and let out a deep sigh. A moment later, I felt John's lips on the top of my forehead.

"I shall make some tea," he whispered.

Shortly after, I was drinking my fourth cup of tea that day, and unlike the others from that morning, this one had never tasted so bitter.

On Sunday, I stopped by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes a little earlier than I was expected, clutching both the diary and the necklace in my hands. I had read the diary entry about Elizabeth's pregnancy that morning and I wanted to let the twins get caught up before we headed over to the Burrow. Fred had asked me before if George could read the diary as well and after some thought, I'd agreed. So I figured today was as good a day as any to let them both catch up to where I was.

I stood at the front door of the shop, unsure of just how I was going to get the twins' attention. The shop was closed, the lights were off and the door was locked. If I knocked, I was sure that they wouldn't hear me from all the way up in their flat. But I supposed it was worth a try. I reached out and banged on the door as loudly as I could.

A second later, a window on the above floor slid open and Fred stuck his head out. "No need to break the door down," he teased. "I'll be down in a moment to let you in."

"Okay," I said in slight surprise, but I wasn't sure he had heard me, considering he was pulling his head back inside and shutting the window. I was even more surprised that he'd heard my knock.

I waited for another moment or two before I could see Fred jogging towards the door from the back of the darkened shop. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, letting me inside.

"Hi, how've you been?" he asked.

"Erm...fine, I guess," I said, looking around the shop as he locked the door again. It was odd seeing it this dark and quiet. As freaked out as all the color, noise and commotion had initially made me on my first visit, I actually thought I hated the dark and silence more. It didn't feel right.

"Just fine?" Fred asked, turning away from the door and facing me with a small smile.

I shrugged. There was silence between us for a second before I raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with being fine?"

"Nothing," Fred answered. "Fine is...fine." His mouth twitched up into a smile and even I had to giggle.

"What about you?" I asked. "Are you doing okay?" I smiled slightly. "At the very least, are you doing...fine?"

"Was that another attempt at a joke?" Fred asked, looking at me in amusement.

"Could be," I answered.

Fred laughed. "Well, either way...yes, I'm fine." He shrugged. "For now. Until I'm not again." When I didn't answer, he smiled at me again. "Come on, let's head upstairs," he said, tilting his head towards the back of the shop.

He led me into the back room and up the stairs in the corner.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked. "I knocked, but I doubted you would hear it. I didn't know how else to let you know..."

"Ah, just a little security feature that George and I installed," Fred said, opening the door to the flat and letting us in. The door opened up to the living room and as Fred led me inside, he pointed to a set of wind chimes hanging in the corner. "Whenever someone knocks or touches the door, the wind chimes are charmed to ring. So that way, George and I can look outside and see who's here." He paused. "We thought it was a nicer sound than an alarm. Everyone was a little more jumpy after the war, especially people like my family."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Blood traitors," he answered, taking a seat on the couch. He gestured for me to sit down as well and I gingerly lowered myself down on the other end of the couch.

"Oh," I answered. I knew what blood traitors were. We had the exact same term in America, too. Not all of the terminology was the same between the two countries, and I was learning that since I'd been here, but blood traitors was a horrible term used in both places.

"We were targeted more so than others," Fred continued. "We were always talked down to by some of the other pure blood families. The ones that thought they were better. I'm sure you know the type. But it all got worse when You-Know-Who started gaining power again. We had to go into hiding for a few months at one point and before that, we were being tracked by the Ministry-that had been taken over by Death Eaters. On the day of Bill and Fleur's wedding, actually. It was pretty rough on not only business, but just on our every day lives as well. We were all cooped up together in my great aunt's house and we were already stressed and scared enough as it was, so we lashed out at each other more often, but we always made up really quickly. We're close anyway, but there was also the fact that any of us could be dead by the following day, despite being in hiding..." He trailed off and cleared his throat. "Ron was on the run with Harry and Hermione, trying to destroy You-Know-Who, so naturally we were worried about him. And Percy..."

"He wasn't with you?" I asked. "When you went into hiding?"

Fred shook his head. "He walked out on us the summer before my and George's seventh year. Didn't talk to us or anything until the night of the battle. He showed up out of nowhere, apologizing and saying he'd been wanting to come back for a while, but the Ministry were locking people up for things like that." He paused. "The entire time he was gone, I was so angry, I thought I'd never forgive him. Ever. But the second he showed his stupid, freckly, glasses-clad face, I wasn't mad anymore. I believed what he said and I forgave him. And then..."

I didn't say anything. I knew what Fred was trying but struggling to say.

"You don't have to tell me," I finally said.

Fred let out a long sigh through his nose and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and cradling his head in his hands, his long fingers stretching up the sides of his face, into his hair.

"I've just never talked about it before. Ever. Not once since he died. Never talked about what happened and barely even mentioned it or him at all."

It was silent for a moment and I sat stiffly where I was, unsure of what to say or do. And finally...

"My parents both left me," I finally blurted out. "My dad when I was just a baby and my mother when I was five. I never thought she would. So I know what it's like when people willingly leave you. The thing is that my parents chose never to come back. I've never heard from either of them since. For all I know, they could be dead."

"Are you going to tell me I should be thankful Percy came back at all?" Fred said, his tone almost bitter. He had raised his head but was still staring at a spot straight ahead, not at me.

"No," I said. "I'm not going to tell you to feel anything. But I was still going to say that I never got that same peace of mind you got and I really wish I did. I do think you're lucky. Even though you lost him for good...he came back before that happened. He chose you. And you forgave him. My parents might be dead and as far as I know, they didn't choose me. I don't even know if they love me. Now or ever."

"They must," Fred whispered, finally turning to look at me blearily, his eyes squinted in bewilderment. "They must love you." He sounded so innocent that I had to let out a quiet giggle.

"How can they if they left me? I know virtually nothing about my dad. He left shortly after I was even born. My mom didn't say much about him except for the fact that it wasn't my fault that he left. And then when I was five, my mom hastily pulled me out of bed in the middle of the night, some of my things already packed...and she quickly hustled me out the door and brought me to the museum she worked at. And then she told me she had to take care of some things. She said she'd forgotten something important at home and that she'd come back. But she never did come back. So, as you know, I ended up in foster care until recently. Nearly sixteen years of foster care and no one ever wanted to adopt me. No one ever chose me. And my mother still never came back. She never tried to find me."

Fred dropped his gaze from my face as he slowly rubbed his jaw. "You don't know that. You don't know if she tried or not. Maybe she did try and couldn't find you. Or maybe she couldn't try at all. But that doesn't have to mean she didn't want to or that she's dead."

"I've considered all of that," I said. "A lot, actually. Because she and I were so close. I couldn't imagine her leaving and I was so heartbroken. I cried all the time. I missed her. At the time, I thought she didn't love me anymore and that feeling lasted for years. I just wish I could've known why. Why she left, why she never came back, what happened to her. I feel like I don't know a single thing about where I came from or who I am. I want answers and I don't have any and don't know how I'd even go about getting them. My point is that I know what it feels like to be walked out on. And I always dreamed of the day my mother would come back and take me away from my foster home. But she never did. So not knowing really just ended up with me being let down in the end. It gave me room for hope and then it hurt that much more when what I wanted never happened."

"How long were you in your last foster home?" Fred asked.

"Since I was eleven," I said. "Almost ten years. From age five to age eleven, I bounced around. I was in one foster home from ages five to seven, another from seven to eight, another from eight to nine, and another from nine to eleven. They were pleasant enough, but there was always some reason why they couldn't keep me. Once it was too many kids to handle and they realized only after they took me in. Another time the foster dad died and the foster mother couldn't take care of the four of us kids on her own. In my third foster home, the parents' biological child hated me. Complained incessantly about me. Accused me of being mean to her. Once she jumped off the jungle gym in the backyard, broke her arm and accused me of pushing her. So I had to go. And in the fourth foster home, they decided I was too quiet and antisocial. I was too odd. So I left again and ended up in the one I just ran away from. I didn't understand why they didn't give me away. At least for a while. And then I kind of figured it out. At least I think so."

"Yeah?" Fred said.

"Foster parents get a certain amount of money from the government to spend on their foster children. And let's just say that there wasn't much money being spent on me."

Fred stared at me, his mouth slightly agape.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my face heating up as I looked away. "Too much."

"No..." Fred swallowed. "It's not. I'm just processing it. Processing that people can actually do something like that."

"Are you really surprised?" I sighed. "You've had all those encounters with actual Death Eaters. Sneaky people really aren't much of a surprise."

I glanced over at him to see his expression but before either of us could say anything else, George appeared at the end of the hallway, a pair of shoes in his hands.

"Hey," he said to me, plopping down on the couch between me and Fred and beginning to put on and tie his shoes. He looked up and glanced between me and Fred. "What's going on out here?"

"Nothing," Fred said, clearing his throat.

"There's a lot of tension in this room right now," George said, "and if you don't tell me why, I'm going to just assume it's sexual tension."

"We were talking about Percy leaving us for the Ministry, you prat," Fred said after a beat, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Ah," George said knowingly, nodding as he finished with his shoes and stood up. "That makes sense. It's a very tense subject in our family, second to him, you know, dying."

Fred flinched, something George and I both noticed, but neither of us commented on. Instead, George turned to me.

"Ready to meet my family...again?"

I nodded. "But before we go..." I held up the diary and looked at both of them. "I think if we're all going to be in on this, we should all be on the same page. Literally."

Fred smiled. "Excellent, I've been waiting to read more entries. Anything juicy happen lately?"

"Read for yourself," I said, "and let George get caught up as well."

"Do you mind if we keep it overnight then?" Fred asked. "That way we don't have to rush."

I hesitated for a moment. As odd as it sounded, I felt funny being separated from the diary. I'd become weirdly invested in it over the past few months. And yet, I found myself telling Fred, "Sure."

I set the diary on the coffee table and continued to stare at it for a moment.

"Ready?" Fred asked hesitantly.

I looked up again and nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

"Got the necklace?" George asked.

"Of course."

"Then let's get out of here and go check for some curses."

I was greeted by Fred and George's family just as warmly as I had the first time I'd been there, which was only slightly surprising. The last time had been so awkward, I was almost expecting this time to be different. But then again, nothing that had happened last time had anything to do with me.

The same group of people who had been at the Burrow before were here now, but in addition, George's girlfriend, Katie, was there and she and I were officially introduced. I'd seen her from afar that day at the Three Broomsticks, but today was the first time seeing her up close. She was pretty, with warm, light brown eyes and a friendly smile.

I kept the necklace stored in my pocket, waiting on Fred and George's cue. I didn't want to immediately bombard Bill with it the second we arrived. And I was going over in my mind the most tactful way to bring it up. And then there was the fact that I also didn't want to do it in front of the entire family, plus Katie, Hermione and Harry. I felt more comfortable waiting until Bill was alone, which seemed impossible what with all the people that were here.

"What are you so lost in thought about?" Fred whispered during dinner.

"Hm?" I asked, snapping out of my train of thought and looking at him as if I had only just noticed he was there.

"I'm pretty sure your eyes were just glazing over," he said with a smirk. "You were just kind of staring down at your plate without moving, aimlessly dragging your fork through your potatoes. Either you hate my mother's cooking, which I know for a fact is impossible, or you're deep in thought. So what's on your mind?"

"You really have to ask?" I muttered, turning back towards my plate of food. I actually scooped up a forkful of potatoes this time and stuck them in my mouth. Fred was right. It was definitely impossible to hate Mrs. Weasley's cooking, and I'd only had it twice. I'd even go as far as to say it was better than the food served back at Ilvermorny, and that was saying something because that food had been pretty incredible.

"Well, it's hard to pinpoint one specific thing. No offense, but I'd say you have a lot going on at the moment. The diary, the necklace, the mystery woman, your fear of being followed...and not to mention all the baggage you had before you came here."

I glanced over at him and he must have seen the flash of hurt in my eyes, because he frowned.

"Hey, come on, I said no offense."

"People only say that before they say something offensive," I whispered.

"Do you know from experience?" Fred asked quietly.

I nodded, but didn't elaborate.

Fred was quiet for a moment. "Just remember, I don't mind your baggage."

"Yes, you do," I said. "You minded back when we first met. We both agreed we didn't have time to involve ourselves with other people and their issues."

"Well, that clearly all fell to shit for both of us," Fred replied, taking a sip of his drink. "And for your information, I never minded anything. I just didn't want to take on more. There's a difference."

I shrugged, feeling too tired to argue. It didn't matter anyway. All this was was another adventure to him. Something to do. A task to keep his mind occupied so he wasn't losing himself in memories of his dead brother. He wasn't necessarily taking any of my baggage on. He was just using it to distract himself. Emotionally, he was in no way tied to me.

It was still a bit hurtful to remind myself of that and I hated that I was hurt. I'd experienced so much deceit, so many jokes and pranks and teasing back at home. I'd been used before and I'd been made a fool of. But I'd thought that over the years I'd numbed myself to it the best I could. I learned to expect it from most people, and some more than others. But thinking that I was just a distraction to Fred hurt so much more than I expected.

"Where's the necklace?" Fred asked.

"In my pocket. Why?"

"Hand it over," Fred answered, holding out his hand. "I'll deal with asking Bill about it, that way you don't have to worry."

I swallowed as my hand tentatively went to my pocket. "What are you going to say to him?" I asked.

"I'll just tell him the truth. That some woman snuck this necklace into your bag, it doesn't belong to the shop you were in, and you want to see if it's cursed."

"But what if he asks questions?"

"You can be there with me if you'd like," Fred said. "To control the conversation if it gets too weird. I just figured I'd handle the actual asking if you were too nervous."

"What makes you think I'm nervous?" I asked.

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Are you not?" he asked, his tone mockingly innocent.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "Of course I am. I've been thinking about how to bring it up all day."

Fred chuckled. "Leave that to me," he said, "and hand over the necklace."

I dug into my pocket and pulled it out before handing it to him.

"You know, I really do hope it's not cursed," he commented lightly.

"Why do you say that?" I asked. "You want to wear it yourself? It would look dashing on you."

Fred laughed. "No, I was going to say it would look great on you. But clearly someone's feeling bold tonight. Making all these jokes."

I shrugged. "I have a personality, you know. Just because I'm shy, doesn't mean I'm dull."

"I never said that," Fred replied. "I'm also going to take a guess and say that you didn't get much of a chance to showcase your personality until now. Again, you don't have to confirm or deny. Or even elaborate. I'm just trying to piece together who you are."

"You and everyone else," I said with a sigh, going back to swirling my fork through my potatoes. "Although...I must admit. The fact that you don't constantly ask outright questions helps. Maybe that's why I'm more forthcoming with you. More than I've been with anyone else. Besides Tom and Martha. And they only know my story because they made me tell them."

"And I still don't know all the details," Fred said.

"Which is fine with you, isn't it?" I asked. "Weren't you the one who said you didn't want to be a two person support group?"

Fred hesitated. "Yeah," he finally whispered. "I guess I did." He swallowed and looked back at me. "I'm just trying to get to know you, Soph. At your own pace. We did agree that we were going to each give the other a chance, didn't we? The day you came to me for help?"

"And the day you insisted you wanted to?" I asked.

Fred smiled and let out a short breath of laughter. "Yeah," he said.

I stared at him a moment longer, an expression of amusement on my face before I turned away and went back to eating my dinner.

Once we'd finished eating, I instinctively began helping the others clear dishes from the table and bringing them to the kitchen, taking as many as I could carry and even using my wand to levitate more in front of me.

"What are you doing, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked with a sigh and a slight smile.

"Helping?" I said hesitantly.

She smiled. "Don't worry about it, Sophie. Let me do it."

"I don't mind," I said, depositing the dishes in the kitchen. "I'm so used to doing it at work."

"Well, you're not working today," she said. "You're a guest here." She immediately took to the sink, while Bill and Fleur took up drying and putting away and Ginny, Ron, Harry and Hermione finished bringing in dishes from outside.

"You have quite the system going already," I commented, leaning against the counter.

Mrs. Weasley glanced over her shoulder at me. "Many, many family dinners as practice to get this going," she said. "What's your family like? Any siblings?"

"Mum," Fred suddenly said, coming into the room, shaking his head slightly.

"It's okay," I said, as Mrs. Weasley looked at her son in surprise and confusion. I turned back to her. "I don't usually like talking about my home life. At all." I swallowed. "I'm an only child. My parents both left me and I grew up in foster care."

Mrs. Weasley's mouth dropped open. "Oh, I am so sorry! I didn't know. You poor thing, that must have been so hard for you."

"Mum, that's exactly the kind of response she hates," Fred said firmly, a slight frown on his face. "The pity response."

"It's alright," I found myself saying hastily. "She didn't know." I looked at Mrs. Weasley and smiled slightly. "He's right in saying I don't like people to feel sorry for me, though. It is what it is and I don't want to be seen as pathetic or..." I shrugged and sighed. "I don't know, breakable? Incapable? Less of a person because I've been through some stuff."

"I'll drink to that," Fred chimed in, holding up his drink before taking a sip.

"No one thinks that," Mrs. Weasley assured me, shooting Fred a look. "About either of you. The experiences people have-good or bad-never make them less. In fact, those experiences add to who you are. They've made you more capable and they've made you stronger and wiser. And just because someone has sympathy or sorrow for you doesn't mean they think less of you-it could just mean they're reacting to what you've been through. Because there are some things that no human being should ever have to go through and being deserted by your parents is one of them."

I stared at her, almost in wonder, for a moment. I'd never thought of it that way. I'd always been worried about people feeling sorry for me in such a way that made me feel pathetic or diminished, but I never thought that they could be sorry because they cared.

"Go on," Mrs. Weasley said, looking at me kindly. "Go spend some time with the others. Get to know them."

I nodded and gave her a fleeting smile before turning to Fred, who was watching the exchange with a raised eyebrow.

"You okay?" he whispered as we headed back outside and towards the makeshift Quidditch pitch across the yard.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Your mother's sweet. And very wise."

"Yeah, I suppose she is," Fred answered, digging his hands into his pockets and gazing up at the sky.

"Don't take her for granted," I told him.

Fred didn't answer, but he looked as if he were lost in thought as we finally reached the Quidditch pitch.

A game started up pretty much right away. It was one I was content to watch from the sidelines. I thought the Weasleys were okay with that as well, until I was pestered to join them. Even my argument that I'd never been on a broom didn't deter them. Instead, they gave me an extremely interesting flying lesson. I'd never had so much advice thrown at me from so many different people before. And not all it was unanimous advice. A few times, disagreements broke out between two of them and a debate would ensue, while I shakily tried to hover beside them on my broom and not tip over.

Once my mini flying lesson was over, I happily watched from the sidelines with Fleur and Hermione while the others played a second game. I was actually glad for the girls' company. It was less awkward and uncomfortable than having to stand on the sidelines alone. The only thing was, I didn't know if I should talk to them or not. Or even what I should say. But luckily, I didn't have to worry because Fleur spoke first.

"So 'ow long do you plan on staying here?" she asked casually as she leaned against the nearest tree.

I shrugged. "Not sure. There was never any definite plan, but I always knew I wouldn't be staying long. All I'm doing is traveling and trying to earn some money and get on my feet."

"Traveling, huh?" Fleur asked with a small smile. "Tell me, 'ave you visited France yet?"

I shook my head. "I've always wanted to go. But, no, England was my first stop after leaving America. And I'm having a hard time leaving."

Fleur laughed. "Tell me about it. I had zee same problem." She gestured upwards towards Bill. "And now 'ere I am. Still haven't left." She paused. "If you ask me, eet is zee red 'air."

I smiled. "You sure it wasn't the fang earring that drew you in? Because that's a pretty interesting feature."

Fleur snorted. "I do like the earring," she admitted.

"Molly's been trying to get him to cut his hair and remove the earring for years," Hermione said. "I think it's so interesting that a family so big can be so different. They all have things that they're good at and things they like and different personalities. Fred and George are funny and they love making people laugh, Bill loves adventure, Charlie's the animal lover, Ron's a brilliant chess player, and so loyal to the people he loves. And Ginny is this great example of being athletic and girly at the same time. She'll dive into a puddle of mud trying to save the Quaffle during a Quidditch match, but then she'll turn around and circle every pair of shoes she likes in Witch Weekly magazine."

"What was Percy like?" I asked after a second, noticing Hermione hadn't mentioned him.

"He was the smart one," she said quietly. "Well, I shouldn't say that. They're all smart. But he was the really studious one. Very ambitious. Studied hard, worked hard. He even had horn rimmed glasses that naturally made him look scholarly. Fred and George used to say he looked like an owl. He was Head Boy and Prefect at school and he loved it. I don't see anything wrong with it, but Ron and the twins always clashed with him and teased him for it."

"Did you know Percy?" I asked Fleur.

She shook her head. "Not very well. I never officially met him. He didn't even come to mine and Bill's wedding."

I winced. "No?"

She shook her head. "He walked out on the family two years before the wedding and didn't come back until..." she trailed off and did some quick math in her head, "nine months later."

I nodded. "Fred told me that."

She nodded slowly. "I first left France to compete in the Triwizard Tournament being held at Hogwarts," she said. "Percy was a replacement judge for his boss, Barty Crouch. I thought he seemed so pompous. He thought he was so important, filling in like that. Of course, I didn't even know Bill, then, never mind that Percy was his brother. I told myself there must be more to Percy than I'd originally seen, but sadly, I never got the chance to really get to know him." She paused. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry, I try not to pry or be too curious. Especially since I hate when people ask too many questions about me. I'm not really a fan of sharing. But...I just want to know what he was like. I can't help but be curious about him, no matter how hard I try not to be. This whole thing's really messed Fred up."

Hermione nodded. "He and Percy were never really that close, but they were still brothers. And I think it's a little bit of survivor's guilt as well. He was really bad for a while. But he's been getting better. Somewhat." She hesitated. "George says that Fred spends a lot of time with you."

I shrugged and instantly shot her down. "It's nothing. We usually just kind of bump into each other."

Fleur and Hermione looked at each other. "Do you typically just bump into people at their family's house?" Fleur asked. "Or at their flat, where they live?"

I smiled. "Okay, well maybe not those instances, but also, their business is right below where they live."

"You can't randomly bump into someone at the business that they own either," Fleur pointed out. "You two spend a good amount of time together and I wonder if it's actually going to be good for Fred."

"That's what George seemed to think. But I don't know...I don't think Fred sees it that way. He just sees me as some kind of project. I hate thinking that, but I also-" I broke off and sighed. "I'm kind of tired of being so alone. And Fred asked me to give him a chance. So I am. I'm trying. And I'm being given one too."

"Even if you are a distraction to Fred," Hermione began slowly, "it doesn't mean he's using you for one. Especially if he knows how you feel about it. It just might not be something he can help. In actuality it could just be more like he just forgets about his own problems when he's with you."

"Because I'm a mess myself," I argued. "It's not because I'm that kind of a person. Fred and I just met."

Hermione shrugged. "And you have to admit, there are no expectations from either of you. Fred might think that if he comes to a family member, they'll hover or cry or get emotional because they're his family and most of us have already been plenty emotional over the last year for reasons involving him and also for reasons not involving him. Like you said, you only just met Fred. Of course he's not going to be tied to you emotionally, just like you aren't going to be tied to him emotionally."

I considered for a moment telling them that Fred knowing more about me than pretty much everyone else already had me feeling unusually comfortable around him-something that had never happened before. And it felt like it was all happening too fast. So fast that I was almost frightened. But the thing was that I was getting emotionally attached to Fred. He was one of the first real friends I'd made besides Rachel. But he was the first and only person I'd been so open and honest with and that was messing with me. I kept wondering to myself...why him?

Before I could decide whether or not to open my mouth to Hermione and Fleur, the others were landing their brooms and, trekking towards us. I saw the twins toss their brooms at Ron, announcing they voted him to put them all away in the broom shed. Ron frowned in displeasure, but took everyone's brooms anyway. I saw Hermione smile slightly and go over to help him, planting a light kiss on his cheek.

"Did you see that amazing save I made when George tried to get the Quaffle past me?" Bill asked Fleur breathlessly as he reached us and threw an arm around her shoulders.

"Of course I did," she answered. "Brilliant job."

I smiled slightly, knowing she most likely hadn't seen anything.

"Yeah, yeah," George muttered, "so amazing. We get it...you love yourself, you bigheaded prat."

Bill leaned over and lightly punched his arm as George darted out of reach and laughed.

"So what'd you think?" Fred asked me with a smile.

"Of what?" I asked as we began walking back towards the house. Katie had caught up to us as well by then, and George was giving her a piggyback ride while she giggled and kissed his cheek.

"The match," Fred clarified. "What'd you think of the match?"

"Oh...uh..."

"You weren't even watching, were you?" he snorted.

I hesitated for a moment before smiling. "No, sorry," I answered honestly.

Fred sighed heavily. "Maybe I am losing my touch. I always thought girls couldn't resist watching me play Quidditch. You know, it takes a lot of physical strength to balance on your broom and also hit those heavy Bludgers away with a bat. And even if you're playing Chaser, like I was today-"

"Oh shut up, Fred," Fleur laughed from behind us. "Leave the poor girl alone. Trust me, the last thing she wants is a description of how strong you are."

"You have a point," Fred said. "She can see that for herself." He flexed his arm and smiled widely as I snorted and looked away.

"He sounds a lot like his old self," I heard Bill whisper to Fleur from behind us. I bit my lip and glanced at Fred, wondering if he'd heard as well. He had, because I saw him stiffen slightly and he fell instantly quiet. He dug his hands into his pockets and stared straight ahead. George seemed to notice as well. I saw him looking at his twin before turning to walk backwards so he could face Bill.

"Hey, Bill," he said, "you're a Curse Breaker, right?"

I froze as my heart skipped a beat and my breath caught in my throat. This was happening. George was going to ask Bill about the necklace.

Bill sighed. "However did you guess?" he said sarcastically. "It wouldn't be because it's my career, would it?"

"No, I just thought you were going to Gringotts every day because you felt right at home with all those goblins."

"Oh, hush," Fleur told George, swatting his arm.

"Why are you asking?" Bill raised an eyebrow at George. "What'd you do?"

"I haven't done anything," George said. "It's Sophie here who needs your help."

I could have kicked him. What a way to make me look like I was trouble. I was beginning to see what Hermione meant about the older Weasley siblings (plus Ginny) getting most of the tact. Was there really no smoother way to bring this up?

Bill and Fleur had stopped walking, so the twins and I did too. We stood there in silence for a second and I figured now it was my turn to start explaining.

"I-well, Fred and George said you could help me," I began, tucking some hair behind my ear and peering up at Bill as my cheeks turned pink. Why had I suddenly lost all ability to speak coherently? I hadn't done anything wrong. If I didn't want Bill to think I was some crazy person collecting cursed objects and getting his brothers involved, I had to speak.

"Some random lady snuck this into Sophie's bag last weekend," Fred jumped in, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the necklace. He held it out to Bill. "Sophie was shopping and this lady was talking to her about this necklace. Eventually, the lady mysteriously disappeared, and later, Sophie found the necklace in her bag. She tried to return it to the shop, but the owner said it wasn't their merchandise."

Bill looked at Fred. "If you think it's cursed, you know better to be touching it with your bare skin. Have you forgotten what happened to Katie?" He glanced at Katie, while George winced.

"They haven't forgotten," I said hastily, trying to save the twins a scolding, "George did tell me that it was a bad idea to have touched it. He told me about what happened to Katie. Besides, I'd touched the necklace already myself and nothing had happened. So don't get upset with them. They're just trying to help."

"If you touched it and nothing happened right away, it doesn't mean anything," Bill said. He nodded towards the necklace. "Put it on the ground. I'll check it out."

Fred knelt down and put the necklace on the grass before standing up and stepping back to stand beside me again. Bill squatted down and pulled out his wand. He stared at the necklace for a bit, tilting his head back and forth and narrowing his eyes. Fleur lit the end of her wand and squatted beside him to shed some light on the necklace in the waning daylight.

"What did this lady look like?" Bill asked me, still looking down at the necklace. "The one you met in the shop?"

"Dark brown hair," I said. "It was pulled back in a bun. She was an inch or two taller than me, maybe. She had light blue eyes-pretty similar in color to mine, I suppose. She was wearing a burgandy colored cloak-kind of plain looking. Nothing special. She didn't look threatening or suspicious-but I know that doesn't mean anything. I just found it odd how fast she disappeared and that she slipped the necklace into my bag. Especially since it doesn't belong to that shop."

Bill nodded and began waving his wand over the necklace. After a moment, he picked it up and looked back at me. "There's no such curse on here that would activate once in contact with human skin. Touching it won't do anything."

"We knew that," Fred snorted.

"I meant nothing will happen long-term. There have been curses known to take effect days, even weeks after a cursed object has been touched." He looked at me. "If you don't mind, I'd like to hold onto it in order to test it a bit more."

I nodded. "Sure. Thank you."

"Is there anyone you know of that would slip you a cursed necklace?" Bill asked, standing up again. "Anyone that wants to hurt you?"

I bit my lip as my stomach lurched unpleasantly. There was at least one person. But I was afraid to tell Bill that. If the whole family knew someone was after me, they could tell me to keep my distance. I'm sure they didn't want to be put in any more danger, especially after all that happened. And they'd be right. But I couldn't lie to Bill, either.

I opened my mouth to tell him the truth, but Fred cut me off. "No. There's no one."

"I asked Sophie," Bill said, raising an eyebrow at Fred before turning back to me.

"Well, there's no one," Fred said firmly. "Right, Sophie?"

I looked at him to see him staring at me wide eyed. He gave his head a small shake and I found myself turning back to Bill and saying, "No, no one."

Once back in my bedroom at Tom and Martha's that night, I found myself pacing around my room. It was late. Nearly midnight. Tom and Martha were asleep and I had a duffle bag open on my bed with a few items of clothing thrown in.

I couldn't stay here. I just couldn't. This was it. I had to scrounge up every last bit of willpower I had and make myself leave.

So far, I'd back a few of the most basic items from my closet. As much as I loved the things I'd bought with Rachel last weekend, I'd hardly need them if I was on the run. I'd need practical items. And I couldn't take too much. Despite the undetectable enlargement charm on my bag, I didn't want it to get too heavy.

But then I'd noticed the picture frame that Martha had given me, still empty of a photo. And I'd noticed Buttercup-my new Pygmy Puff-sleeping soundly on my nightstand, and I found myself delaying leaving again. I'd let out a discouraged sigh and scooped Buttercup into my hands, stroking her fur with a finger as I sat on the edge of my bed.

Ever since I was five years old-ever since my mother had left me-I'd been denied of everything I wanted. Basic things as well as other, less important things. I'd wanted ice skates for Christmas when I was six and still terribly missing my mother. But that first foster home had so many kids, they couldn't afford them. Instead, I'd been given a postcard of an ice rink, and a secondhand ice skater doll from the thrift store in town. It was a nice attempt, I suppose, and I knew it wasn't that family's fault that they couldn't afford anything, but it wasn't the same. And eventually, they couldn't even afford me after a while.

Needless to say, I'd taped that postcard above my bed and let it remind me of the good old days when I'd go skating with my mother. I held on to the good memories for as long as I could. I pushed away the thought that she hadn't come back for me and instead, chose to dwell on what we'd done before that. I told myself she'd come back one day. But as the days went by and she never came, I began to stop holding on to those memories. In any case, I found it hard to hold on to something that was slowly fading away like sidewalk chalk in the rain.

One day, I'd woken up and the postcard meant nothing to me. It was nothing more than a picture. A piece of paper. A lousy Christmas gift. If anything, it had brought me more sadness than joy over the years. So I'd ripped it up thrown it away.

And I'd stopped asking for things that I wanted. I'd stopped believing I'd get them. I wouldn't get things I'd ask for and I wouldn't get things I'd hoped for in private. No matter how much I wished for my mother to come get me, she didn't. I never got those ice skates, and I never even asked again because it all seemed so pointless.

But here in London...I hadn't gotten my mother back, but I'd met people that seemed to genuinely like me. I'd gotten the closest thing to a real family that I'd had in a long time. I'd told Fred that I'd just wanted to feel like someone had chosen me, and Tom and Martha had. They'd given me what I'd wanted from my own mother, and even from each new foster home I went in. Love, affection, the feeling of being wanted. And I didn't think they wanted me to leave, so how could I hurt them that way? After all they'd done. They at least deserved a goodbye. But if I stopped to say goodbye to them, I knew I'd never end up leaving.

And now I wanted different things. I wanted to finally be able to fill that picture frame from Martha. I wanted to continue nurturing my new pygmy puff. I wanted to hang out with Rachel, Kayla and Allie. I almost even wanted to get ice cream with Noah again. I wanted to hang out at the Burrow some more and really get to know the rest of Fred's family. I wanted to be normal.

But that fear I'd gotten earlier when Bill was asking me about the necklace, wouldn't go away. I hated that I'd like to him about it, too. The hurt and destruction I'd bring to all these people if I brought danger upon them would be worse than the hurt they'd feel if I left without saying goodbye. They'd already gone through more than enough. If someone was following me and trying to curse me or hurt me, then the best thing to do would be to lead that person away from here.

I set Buttercup down and stood up, hastily throwing a few more clothing items into my bag. I even added the picture frame from Martha, simply because I couldn't handle parting with it, picture or no picture. I closed the bag after that and went to my desk, where I scrawled a note to Tom and Martha, explaining how sorry I was but that I was afraid that my past was catching up to me and that I couldn't put them in danger after all they'd done. I knew I didn't need to elaborate much more. They knew my history. They'd figure out what I meant. I also mentioned that they'd have to give Buttercup back to Fred. He'd promised that he'd take her back if I ever left.

Once I was done, I just...sat back down on my bed again. I'd done everything I needed to do. Now I just needed to leave. I hadn't even given much thought as to where I would go. Maybe I would go to France after all. I'd always wanted to know if it was as beautiful, magical and romantic as I'd always heard it was and now I could finally find out. For a split second, I imagined myself spending the day in a park somewhere overlooking the Eiffel Tower, visiting the Louvre and the Notre Dame Cathedral, trying all kinds of delicious foods...and at night, riding to the top of the lit up Eiffel Tower for the most incredible view of the city.

But who was I kidding? I had to make the money I'd saved last. I was going to be homeless again, and once my money ran out, I'd be eating French food from the garbage. Truly magical and romantic. I even had to roll my eyes to myself. Unless, of course, I got a job there. Stayed just enough to earn a little bit of money and then move on to the next place. Find the balance between surviving and not getting too attached to people, places or things.

The only problem now was that Fred had the diary and I kind of wanted it back before I left. I wanted to finish what I'd started and I'd already grown just a bit invested in Elizabeth Proctor's life. But how was I going to get it back tonight?

Just then, there was a tap on my window. I jumped and gasped as I was jolted out of my trance and then when I realized someone was at my window. I could just make out the shadow of a person on the other side of my curtains, illuminated by the moonlight.

Slowly, and with my heart pounding, I crossed my room and flattened myself against the wall beside the window, holding my wand high, just in case. And then, I slowly moved the curtain aside the tiniest bit. I saw a flash of flaming red hair and let out a sigh of relief as my heartbeat slowed. Fred.

I pulled open the curtain and pushed the window up to see him hovering outside on his broomstick. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"George caught up on the diary first," he said. "And then I couldn't sleep, so I decided to catch up myself." He held up the diary with one hand. "Can I come in?"

I nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to maneuver his way into my room. He propped the broom up against the wall and immediately started flipping through the diary.

"Fred," I began, but he went on, not even hearing me. Instead, he began pacing around my room as he continued to flip through the diary.

"I can't believe she's pregnant! Right in the middle of all this. Honestly, you leave off on the entries with the biggest cliffhangers! I don't know how you can live with yourself. But, you know what I think? I think-" His rant ground to a halt as he looked up and saw the bag sitting on my bed. He turned to me and I saw him notice that I was dressed in regular day clothes in the middle of the night. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I said innocently.

"Bullshit," Fred said, tossing the diary onto my bed and giving me a steely look. "You're leaving."

"I-I thought I could...see France," I said, trying to sound nonchalant and carefree, but it was a pretty terrible attempt.

"See it from where? Under a bridge? After you've had a nice meal of baguettes fresh from an alleyway trash can?"

His voice was getting louder. He was angry. Why was he so angry?

"Shh," I hissed. "Tom and Martha are asleep."

"Ask me if I care, because I don't," Fred snapped, stepping closer. "You can't leave!"

"Why not?" I asked. "Why do you care so much?"

"Because I do!" he said. "You're my friend!"

"You mean I'm your distraction," I clarified.

"What?" Fred asked, dumbfounded.

I threw myself down in my desk chair and stared at my knees as I crossed my arms. "All I am to you is a distraction from your own hurt and heartbreak. I'm someone to worry about, a mystery to solve..." I nodded towards the diary. "An interesting story to discuss. Or...even someone to save since you couldn't save Percy?"

I glanced up to see Fred's expression harden as he stiffened. "That's not fair, Sophie," he said, his voice quiet, but firm.

I shrugged. "Whatever the case...I like knowing that you're not dwelling on your life as much, but I've told you that I don't want to be a distraction." I looked up at him. "I'm not some little project, Fred."

"That's not how I think of you!" He exclaimed.

"Isn't it?" I asked. "You've said yourself it's nice not to focus on your own shit for a change."

"It is, but that doesn't mean I'm using you to do it. Do you even honestly think I am or is it just what you've been telling yourself so that you won't get emotionally attached? To me, to my Tom and Martha, to anyone? Is this just a way for you to keep us at arms length because you're scared?"

I stared at him stonily. "I have every reason to be scared."

"I know that," Fred said, his voice lowering to a hoarse whisper. "But I asked you to give me a chance."

"I have! And with each day that goes by, I realize that I'm still nothing to you except a task to focus on."

"That's a load of crap," Fred argued. "All of it. You've barely given me a chance. You can't just keep running, Sophie. That's only going to get you in trouble."

"As if you care," I retaliated.

"I do, damnit!" Fred cried. I shot him a look and gestured for him to lower his voice. He did, hissing out his next words. "I've had enough people thinking I'm some kind of monster. I don't need you thinking the same thing."

I closed my eyes and looked away as I let out a sigh. He had a point. Maybe I was judging him too soon. Maybe I was keeping him at arm's length and putting my walls up to protect myself, but then painting Fred as a monster to justify doing so. If I convinced myself he had bad intentions, it justified me wanting to shut him out.

"I've told you things I've never told anyone," I finally whispered, opening my eyes, but keeping my gaze on the floor. "It made me feel like it gave us this weird sort of closeness. Or that it gave us a connection that I didn't have with anyone else. I've started to care about you. And it started to hurt knowing I didn't mean anything to you. Another reason why me leaving is for the best. I don't want to get hurt even more. I've already been hurt enough by people not caring about me."

Fred's mouth dropped open as his expression softened. He knelt down in front of me and gently put his hands over mine. "Sophie, what makes you think that's all you are? It's not true."

"I just told you that you said it yourself!" I exclaimed. "The night of my birthday dinner. You said it was nice having something else to focus on besides Percy and Angelina. You said it felt good to be doing something."

Fred's face fell even more. "Yeah, okay, but like I said, it's not because I was thinking of you as a task, or a mystery to be solved. You're not an object. You're a human being."

I shrugged, but didn't say anything.

"You're not just a distraction to me, Sophie," he said. "You have become my friend, and I do care about you."

"I don't know if I believe you," I whispered, staring back down at my hands.

"I've opened myself up to you the same way you've opened up to me," he said. "Why would I do that if I didn't feel like I could?"

I shrugged. "Because you didn't know me until I moved here. You could open up to me without me judging you or reacting the same way your family would."

"Okay, that's a little true too," Fred said. "But if it were completely true, I could just walk up to any old stranger and just start babbling about how my brother's death has completely messed me up. And something tells me that would not go over well. I'd be in St. Mungo's within the hour."

I let out a breath of laughter. "Okay, so what makes me any different? Why me?"

Fred shrugged and stood up before moving to plop down on the bed. "I could ask you the same question. Why me? Why did you come to me about the diary? Why do you tell me all the stuff about your life that you haven't told anyone? Especially after we both were dead set against it at first. What got both of us to open up?"

"I don't know," I whispered.

"Neither do I," Fred shrugged. It was quiet for moment before he spoke again. "You know, I've been asking myself that bloody question almost every day for the past year. Why did it have to be me? Why was it my brother that had to die? Why did I have to be the one with him? Why couldn't it have been me that died instead? Just...why?" He shook his head. "It's not fair. He'd just come and apologized for walking out on us. We had so much catching up to do with him."

"It doesn't mean you should've died in his place," I said. "And if you had died instead, then someone else would be in your place asking themselves why. Your family loves you."

"I know that," Fred said firmly. "But I still...when I get angry and frustrated I just wonder why...Why, why, why."

I leaned forward in my chair and stared at him. "Can you tell me how it happened?"

Fred exhaled through his nose and leaned forward himself, resting his head in his hands and speaking to the floor. "We were fighting a couple of Death Eaters together, including the new Minister, who'd been under You-Know-Who's control so they could take over the Ministry. Anyway, we managed to take down the two Death Eaters, and then Percy told the Minister he was resigning, right in the middle of all of it. Resigning. From the job he would not shut up about since he was a kid. He'd always dreamed of working for the Ministry, the stuffy old lunatic." He let out a dry, bitter laugh. "I got distracted. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I said something to him along the lines of how he was joking and I hadn't heard him joke in so long. I even lowered my wand." He swallowed thickly and raised his head, staring at the ceiling now. "And then I remember him glancing over at me, this tiny little smirk on his face...And then the next thing I knew, he was looking over my shoulder and his eyes went wide. At the same time, there was this loud explosion-another Death Eater had purposely blasted the wall apart, knowing I was standing in front of it. With these crazy reflexes, I didn't know he had, Percy swung his wand at the debris and used a freezing charm on them. You know, Immobulus. One of the bits of stone was less than a yard away from colliding with my head. He had even moved in front of me in the process, shoving me backwards, just in case he didn't react in time..."

"But he did," I said slowly.

"He did," Fred sighed, "but in that one minute of distraction, he was hit with Impedimenta from another Death Eater and it blasted him backwards. The charm he'd had on the stone broke and they went flying, but now I was at least out of the direct line of impact, thanks to Percy." He dragged his hands over his face and let out a heavy sigh. "I didn't get away unscathed, though. A large bit of rubble hit my leg, dislocating my hip and fracturing not only my pelvis in the process, but my leg." He lowered a hand and traced a spot just between his kneecap and hip. "Right here."

"Ouch," I breathed out lamely. That was an understatement.

"I was lucky. If it wasn't for Percy, it would've been my head and chest. I would've died." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, he got up and came back over to me. I was curled up on the ground and trying not to scream in pain. He moved me out of the way so he could assess the damage. I told him there was a secret passageway behind a nearby tapestry. He dragged me over and shoved me behind it, but before he could get behind it as well..."

"Someone got him?" I asked.

Fred nodded slowly. "Killing Curse." He paused. "I was in no state to continue fighting...I was actually feeling lightheaded from the pain. All I could manage was to seal myself behind the tapestry to avoid being found. And then I passed out like a weak coward."

My eyes were drawn to his hand, which had clenched into a fist on his leg, gripping the material of his jeans so tight, his knuckles were white. His face, meanwhile, was bright red, and his eyes were staring unblinkingly at the wall. And it actually looked as if he were holding his breath.

"Hey," I said quietly, slowly getting up and moving to sit beside him. Close, but not too close. "Breathe in through your nose. Slowly," I told him. A few seconds passed before he did as I'd said. I counted to five out loud, but quietly. "Now hold it," I instructed, before counting to five again. "And let it out," I finished, counting to five one last time. "Again?"

Fred nodded and we repeated the process twice more before Fred groaned and closed his eyes.

"You used my own technique against me," he finally whispered.

"You told me you knew about it because it was what worked for you," I said. "And it worked for me that day too."

"It should've been me, Soph," Fred whispered, his voice cracking. "It should've been me. It was supposed to be me."

"No, it wasn't," I said. "It wasn't. It shouldn't have been either of you. Should Percy be here right now? Yes, of course. But you should not have died in his place." I hesitated. "You keep reminding me that I don't know you that well, and you're right. But something I do know is that if you had died, then the world would have become a whole lot dimmer."

Fred shook his head. "You asked me before if there was ever a lot of pressure on me to be funny when I don't feel like it. And I said no because I loved doing it and making people laugh through the hard times was so rewarding. I meant that, but ever since the war and ever since Percy's death...well, I've still loved making people happy and I still love my job and I still love laughter and pranks. But...in those hard moments where it all became too much...it was suffocating. It felt like despite Percy's efforts, I'd been buried under the rubble anyway and I was slowly suffocating. Nobody knew what to do. It was like I was malfunctioning and they weren't prepared to handle what was happening. They'd always expected me to be funny and knew how to deal me pranking people and making jokes and causing mayhem, but the second I went off track, everyone froze. Mum was always checking on me, always breathing down my neck. And so was George for that matter. And everyone else just seemed to keep their distance as if they were unsure what to say or do to make me feel better so they just didn't try at all. Everyone was afraid to mention Percy for a while, especially in front of me."

"Except Ginny, apparently," I said.

"Yeah, except Ginny. But she was always bringing him up. Anyway, they reacted like they were watching a cat barking like a dog. Everything about that is wrong. It's not supposed to happen. And they didn't know the best way to handle it. They tried, but nothing felt right. They became suffocating, too. They all thought they understood, but they didn't. Not really."

I stayed silent as he took a deep breath and looked up at me.

"You asked me why it had to be you," he said, "and I think it's because you somehow care, but simultaneously don't give a shit."

"I give a shit," I said defensively.

Fred actually laughed. "Do you or do you not keep telling me you have you're own problems to deal with and don't have time to take on any more?"

"I did say that, but you told me the same thing. And it doesn't mean that I don't care, you know. I'm human, Fred. I feel things."

Fred smiled. "You don't hover, but you also know what helps me. For instance, you remembered what I'd said about the breathing technique working for me. You act like the crazy ginger bloke falling apart before your eyes is the most normal thing you've ever seen."

I met his eyes, unsure of what to say or do. He was almost right. Watching someone fall apart was almost normal for me, because usually I was the one falling apart. For different reasons, sure, but I was no stranger to pain and I was no stranger to attempting and failing to move on.

"It's confusing," he went on. "I don't understand how you can be exactly what I need when a few months ago you were a stranger. If you leave..." He swallowed thickly. "If you leave, I-" He closed his eyes, inhaled, and let it out slowly before turning to me. "Just...stay," he said, his voice level. "Stay for me, but stay for yourself, too. You're happy here, Soph. You deserve to be this happy. I think you need to be here just as much as I need you to be here."

"But Bill asked if-"

"I know what Bill asked and I know I lied," Fred interrupted. "But for one thing, I don't want to involve anyone else."

"Why not? You already involved Bill by telling him about the necklace. Why lie to him now? I hated that you did that."

"We needed him to check for curses and jinxes," Fred shrugged. "But the less people that know, the better. They'll all want to get involved, and I'm afraid they'll-they'll start hovering again. I just want to do one thing on my own without them hovering and acting like I'm suddenly incapable."

"Fred, how many times do I have to tell you?" I asked. "This is my life. Not a game or an experiment, or-"

"I didn't realize how serious things were for you at first," Fred interrupted. "When George first invited you to the Burrow and taunted you by holding onto the diary, I didn't even know what it was. You hadn't told me you were on the run or about being in foster care. I just didn't know. And then you showed up at the joke shop on your birthday with the diary clutched in your hands and I could tell you were scared." He looked at me seriously. "That day I realized that you might actually be in real danger and that you're afraid. I couldn't just leave you alone after that."

"Why not?" I asked.

Fred snorted with laughter. "I'm a Gryffindor. We're incapable of leaving well enough alone when someone's in trouble." He sighed. "So you can stop thinking I'm only in this for my own benefit," he said. "I'm in this for yours as well."

"Okay, but how are we going to do this alone? It might actually be better to tell your family."

"And have them confiscate that diary? Or all want a turn reading it? If we pass it around to every member of my family, we'll never get it back."

I laughed. "You have a point there."

"Besides, we can't have my family going insane at something that may or may not be a threat. We don't know if you've been followed. We don't know what the intentions were of the person who dropped the diary in front of you."

I sighed and buried my head in my hands before looking up at the ceiling.

Fred leaned back on his hands and smiled at me. "Stay," he said. When I didn't answer, he tilted his head. "What if I offered to help you-even more than I am already?"

I snorted and looked up at him. "You mean do even more than join my Salem Witch trials book club?" I picked up the diary and lightly swatted him with it. "How generous."

He laughed and gently took the diary from me before lightly swatting me back. "Hey, I got Bill to check out that necklace, too. Don't forget. But yes, I have another idea."

"And what would that be?" I asked.

"You said you knew virtually nothing about your parents. You said you never knew what happened to your mother or where she went or why she didn't come back for you. You said you felt like you didn't even know who you were because you barely knew your parents. What if I helped you find out? What if I helped you find one-or both of your parents? And if we can't find them, we can find out what happened to them. Give you some closure. And in the process, we can close the case on this mystery woman and where this diary came from and put to rest any idea that someone's following you. And then you can stay here without any issues, okay?" He smiled. "I wouldn't do any of that if I only thought of you as a distraction. I would've just stopped at the diary. This is really a lot to take on. Too much to be just a regular old distraction." He sighed dramatically and fluttered his eyelashes.

"My hero," I said with a roll of my eyes.

Fred laughed again as he looked over at me, his eyes meeting mine. I felt his fingers brush against my own and looked down to see his hand resting over mine on top of my comforter. "Stay," he insisted. "Come on. Besides, trust me, France isn't all that great."

"Fleur begs to differ," I answered, looking back up at him.

Fred shrugged. "Yeah, well, Fleur would beg to differ."

"Have you ever been?" I asked. "To France?"

"No," Fred answered, "but I know for a fact that there's something pretty amazing here in London that France doesn't have."

"What's that?"

"Me," Fred answered, shooting me a charming smile.

I actually found myself laughing. "What a big ego you have."

"So, what do you say?" Fred asked. "Stay a little longer? Let me help you?"

"I don't know if I want to open that can of worms, Fred," I said. "It could get messy and complicated and I may not like what I find. It's just something I'd thought of, but..."

"But what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You want some answers, don't you? And won't some closure help you? Some peace of mind?"

"Yeah, but mostly with my mother. I'm not sure if I have any interest in finding my father. I told you he left shortly after I was born. I think it's pretty clear he didn't want me. My mother, though..." I trailed off and sighed. "She was so good to me up until she left. I just don't get it."

"Then let's find her," Fred said. "If we do, you'll know for sure what your mother's deal was and then you can come to terms with it. Yeah, it might be tough if it's not the answer you want, but then you can move forward with those feelings instead of leaving them all hanging."

I swallowed. He did have a point. Finally, I stood up and grabbed the handle of my duffle bag. Fred froze and his mouth fell open. But then, I walked to my closet and tossed the duffle bag in before closing the door and turning back to Fred.

"France can wait."