"I'm officially impressed."

Fred, George, and I were standing at the end of a long pathway that led up to Hogwarts. It was a few weeks after my birthday, and it was also the day of Angelina and Oliver's wedding, which was taking place at Hogwarts. On the Quidditch pitch to be exact. Fred and George had both snickered at the location when they'd each gotten invitations, claiming it was an odd place for a wedding and wondering how Angelina had possibly agreed to hold the wedding there. But now it looked as if they were eating their words. It was already evident that Angelina and Oliver had compromised. The ceremony location was special to Oliver, but the reception later was to be inside in the great hall, which I was sure would also look beautiful. Plus, Angelina has clearly added her own touches in the form of decorations-which we'd already begun to notice along the pathway-and also in the form of transportation from here to the school.

George let out a low whistle as he, Fred and I stared at the beautiful white and gold carriage in front of us, decorated with ornate, shining gold patterns and trim. It almost seemed to be glittering in the sunlight. I also noticed there was nothing in front to pull it. It was something Fred seemed to notice, too.

"Must be a charm instead of the thestrals," he was saying now to George, gesturing to the front of the carriage with a tilt of his chin. "Kind of Ange to give the thestrals a day off."

"Besides that, thestrals are also just to depressing for a wedding, don't you think?" I asked.

Fred nodded solemnly. "Yeah," he finally said quietly. "Especially after most of us can see them now." He smiled slightly as he continued to study the carriage. "I'm not surprised that Angelina thought of something like this for today," he went on. "Why couldn't she have persuaded Dumbledore to have carriages like these to take us up to Hogwarts when we were actually in school? We could have been arriving in style."

George was the first to climb into the carriage, where he then proceeded to make himself comfortable, even going as far as putting his feet up on the seat across from him.

"Oi, what kind of gentleman are you?" Fred asked. "Haven't you ever heard of ladies first?"

"Katie's not here," George shrugged. "She arrived early to fulfill her bridesmaid duties."

"And what is Sophie?" Fred asked. "Chopped liver?"

"Sophie's not my fiancee," George answered.

"And that means what, exactly?" Fred asked. "That you're obligated to treat her like chopped liver?"

"Of course not," George said. He stood up inside the carriage and, with a grin and an exaggerated bow, he held a hand out to me. "Ladies first," he said.

"You say ladies first after you've already helped yourself inside the carriage," I laughed.

"I meant ladies first before Fred," George answered in a dramatic whisper. "Also, everyone knows the ugliest person in a group always goes last. And in this case, the ranking is me, you, then Fred."

"Who came up with that ranking?"

"Me," George replied with a shrug.

"That's offensive," Fred scoffed, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. He started to pull off his jacket. "I'm going to start throwing punches," he added, trying to hide his laughter.

"Oh, enough," I said, lightly shoving him before turning back to George. "You didn't have to bow, you know," I laughed, placing my hand in his and stepping into the carriage. "Your hand would have been enough."

"Had to outdo Fred, didn't I?" George shrugged, dropping back down into his seat. He nudged Fred's shin with his foot as Fred pulled himself into the carriage and sat beside me. "I didn't see him helping you. In fact, this is pretty typical. I'm surprised my back hasn't broken from carrying all of Fred's responsibilities on top of my own."

"First of all, get your shoes away from my wedding attire," Fred said, swatting George's leg away from him. "The last thing I want is a giant shoe print on my clothes. Secondly, I'm plenty chivalrous. I won Sophie over all on my own, and have managed to keep her completely in love with me ever since." He winked at me and picked up my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

"You probably wouldn't even be together if it wasn't for me trying to get you to talk to each other," George said coolly. "If it were up to you, Fred, you would've broken Sophie's toes with your big feet and let that be the end of it."

"Don't forget that Sophie came to talk to me at the shop a week later," Fred argued. "She sought me out. She must have liked something about me."

"Ah, yes," George said. He turned to me. "Tell me, Sophie, was it when Fred stomped on your foot or when he whacked you in the face with a door that won you over and got you to chase my ugly prat of a brother down?"

"I was just visiting the joke shop that day," I said. "I wasn't specifically looking for either of you. Fred happened to be the one to notice me and come over to talk." I nudged Fred as I smirked at George. "If Lee had been hanging around instead and had come up to me, I could have been dating him right now."

George let out a loud laugh as the carriage began rolling forward, heading down the path towards Hogwarts all on its own.

"Piss off," Fred told George, grabbing his jacket, that he still hadn't put back on, and trying to hit George with it.

"Put your jacket back on and behave," I instructed, grabbing Fred's arm and pulling him back. "I thought you were so worried about ruining your wedding attire."

"Only if George is trying to cover it with shoe prints," Fred said, pulling his jacket back on. "I don't care as much of I'm hitting him with it. Besides, Angelina probably planned for something to go wrong at my and George's hands. So you can tell us to behave all you want, but a little mayhem has most likely been worked into the schedule."

George nodded. "Angelina probably inked it right into the itinerary."

"Three o'clock-wedding ceremony, four o'clock-reception," Fred said, ticking each event off on his fingers, "five o'clock-everyone turns into a canary because Fred and George switched out everyone's dessert with Canary Creams."

I looked between the two of them with wide eyes as I had a moment of slight panic. A short moment where I wasn't entirely sure that Fred had actually been joking.

"That is a joke, isn't it?" I asked.

"Come on, Soph," Fred said, grinning as he leaned back in his seat and put his hands behind his head. "You don't know me enough by now to be certain whether or not I'm joking?"

"I do know you and that's what scares me," I said. "I couldn't even imagine switching desserts out with Canary Creams, but it's not that difficult to believe that you would."

Fred grinned wider. "Which is why you'll have to wait until dessert later to find out."

"You're kidding. You have to be," I said, blinking at him. "You wouldn't do something like this at a wedding. Or at least where it effects everyone."

"Like I said, you'll have to wait until dessert to find out." Suddenly, he smiled as something caught his eye in the distance. He pointed and leaned in closer to me. "Normally I wouldn't suggest you turning your attention away from me for even a second, but if you do now, you'll get your first view of Hogwarts."

I turned to look and my eyes widened as I let out a sigh of wonder. "It's beautiful!"

"It's alright," Fred said, shrugging nonchalantly. But the grin on his face said otherwise.

After a few more minutes, the wagon slowed to a stop at the Hogwarts gates. Fred jumped out first, then reached up and put his hands on either side of my waist, helping me jump down from the carriage. I smiled and leaned up to quickly kiss him before pulling away and taking his hand.

We walked through the castle gates and down the path to the front steps. When we were nearly there, we went left instead of going up the steps, and then followed a pathway around the side of the school and then down towards the pitch. We walked for about ten more minutes before the Quidditch pitch came into view.l at the bottom of a hill.

We came to a stop at the top of the hill. I stared warily down the winding pathway that led to the pitch, not entirely loving the idea of walking down a hill in fancy shoes. But then I noticed the ornate looking iron bench off to the side, as well as a sign instructing guests to sit down to be transported down the hill.

Fred, George, and I looked at each other before Fred shrugged and led me over to the bench. The three of us just about fit, and within seconds, the bench had lifted a few feet from the ground and was carrying us down the hill.

"I'm so glad I didn't have to walk down the hill in heels," I said, looking down at the pathway below me. Either side of it was decorated with sporadic wooden barrels overflowing with pastel colored flowers as well as handmade wooden signs directing guests to the pitch.

"I'm glad, too," Fred said. "It's not the best time for you to break both of your ankles."

I let out a scoff of laughter and rolled my eyes. "Is there ever a good time to break even one ankle?"

Fred laughed as I looked around, taking in all of the sprawling scenery around me.

"You know, I didn't realize just how massive the school and the grounds were," I said, craning my neck to look back at the castle looming behind us. "This place is huge."

"How big is Ilvermorny?" Fred asked.

"Maybe about half this size?" I guessed, turning to face forward again. "I will say that it's probably just as pretty. It's just smaller."

"I think Hogwarts seems even bigger than usual without all the students and teachers here," Fred pointed out. "It's odd. I've obviously never been here during the summer holidays, so I've never seen just how quiet and empty it can get." He grinned at George. "It feels like we're doing something illegal by being here in the summer, and I'm really enjoying it."

A moment later, we were being dropped off at the Quidditch pitch, where rows of chairs were set up facing a large archway covered with flowers, vines and tulle. It sat towards the end of the pitch, right in front of the three goalposts.

Several golden snitches hung suspended in midair over the seating area, their wings fluttering rapidly. But they remained in place, the golden metal of each one glinting in the light.

"I just know Angelina was in her element planning all of this." Fred let out a quiet laugh as he gazed out across the rows of chairs. "She did a great job." He turned to me and offered me his arm. "Shall we find seats?"

I smiled and slipped my hand into the crook of his arm. "We shall."

The wedding was beautiful from start to finish. Angelina looked radiant, and she and Oliver seemed as though they barely realized other people were even around them. All that mattered to them was each other.

When they were finally announced husband and wife, Angelina threw her arms around Oliver's neck and he dipped her backwards to kiss her. Everyone clapped and Fred and George actually jumped to their feet and loudly cheered and whistled, much like they'd done at Ginny's wedding and Ron's wedding.

I giggled as I noticed other wedding guests staring at them in slight alarm. Angelina and Oliver, however, didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, I even saw them laugh. As they made their way back down the aisle together, Angelina shot Fred a warm smile and even waved at me.

We waited for the bridesmaids to make their way down the aisle as well after Angelina and Oliver. Katie blew George a kiss on the way by and he winked at her.

"She's the prettiest girl here, don't you think?" George asked me and Fred as he watched Katie walk away.

I laughed. "I don't think you're supposed to say that at someone else's wedding," I pointed out. "Just for today, I think you have to say Angelina's the prettiest one here."

"But, Sophie," George said, as he, Fred and I began to file out of our seats, joining the crowd headed towards the castle, "I can't just lie like that."

"Oh, please, as if you haven't ever told a lie before," I scoffed.

"Not when it comes to Katie," George said, shaking his head. "I've never told a lie about her and I've never lied to her."

"Good-that's how it should be," I told him.

"Well," George amended slowly. "Actually, there was that one time I wanted to get her to eat a canary cream, so I told her it was entirely safe to eat and no, of course it wouldn't turn her into a chicken. Which, technically, that part was not a lie. It did not turn her into a chicken. It turned her into a canary."

I snorted with laughter and rolled my eyes.

"Well, if you go inside and tell her that she's the prettiest one here," Fred said, "you'd be lying to her. That title belongs to Sophie."

"If I tell Katie she's the prettiest one here, I wouldn't be lying to her," George argued. "I do think she's the prettiest one here. You think Sophie is. So if you were to tell Katie she's the prettiest, you would be lying to her."

"So, in other words, you're telling me that you think Sophie is ugly," Fred said with a teasing grin. "I'm not above starting a fight with you right here and now."

"Sophie is the second best looking out of all of us," George argued, shaking his head. "You, Fred, are the ugliest. We discussed this at the carriage earlier. When you also accused me of treating Sophie like chopped liver, by the way, if you'll kindly remember. So it looks like you're the one who just seems to really want me to admit Sophie is ugly."

"Stop it," I said, nudging Fred as he laughed and started dramatically cracking his knuckles. "Let's get through the wedding without fighting anyone. Especially each other. No matter how much of it is in jest."

"We told you, Soph," Fred said, "Angelina most likely scheduled some trouble into the plans for tonight. Guaranteed."

"Still doesn't mean you should start the trouble," I pointed out. "Even if Angelina is planning for something to happen, well...haven't you two ever heard of the expression plan for the worst, but hope for the best?"

"Yeah...and?" Fred asked with a shrug.

I let out a sigh. "Sometimes I think you refuse to see the point on purpose."

"What point?" Fred asked, looking at George. "Do you see a point?"

"No," George answered, shaking his head and looking around us. "No point in sight."

I rolled my eyes. "I give up," I said, letting out a quiet laugh.

We made our way inside the castle and I looked around the entrance hall in awe. It was beautiful. There were wedding decorations put up, including more floating golden snitches hanging in the air, and white tulle and twinkling white lights wrapped around the bannister of the large marble staircase. But even without those decorations, the castle was beautiful.

"You look impressed," Fred commented.

"I am," I whispered. "It's beautiful."

Fred studied me for a moment, a soft smile on his face before he dropped my hand and bounded over to a spot just beside the staircase. "Right here is where one of our Defense Against the Dark Arts professors turned Malfoy into a ferret," he said. He moved his finger up and down as he grinned. "Bounced him up and down until McGonagall stopped him." He went over to another area near the wall on our right. "This is the spot where the Goblet of Fire was set up for people to enter the Triwizard Tournament. The Age Line was probably about...here." He walked in a semi-circle from one spot of the wall to another. "Wouldn't you say so, George?"

"I think you're just a bit too far to the right," George said with a laugh as he nudged me and smirked.

I let out a laugh as well. "So...where would you say is the spot you landed in after the Age Line blasted you backwards?"

George turned around and walked over to a spot in line with the staircase. "Right about here," he said. He pointed to the space on his right. "Fred was there..."

Fred walked over to stand beside George and lowered himself to the floor. He looked around. "Yeah, I'd say it was here. Looks about right."

George turned and ran halfway up the marble staircase before turning back around to face us. "And Dumbledore was standing right here when he sent us to the hospital wing for the very impressive beards we'd sprouted."

Smiling, I walked up the stairs to stand beside George. I turned to look back at Fred, still sitting on the floor, and I tilted my head from one side to the other thoughtfully.

"What are you doing?" Fred asked.

"Just trying to picture it how Dumbledore must have seen it," I said. "You two flying through the air and hitting the ground, both with two fluffy, white beards." I smiled. "It must have been quite the show."

"I'll have you know that George and I remained just as handsome as ever," Fred said, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. "I was able to get a glimpse of myself as an old man, and I can assure you that I aged beautifully."

I shared a look with George and we both let out snorts of laughter.

"You're both awful," Fred said, coming to stand at the end of the staircase and resting his elbow on the end of the bannister, leaning on it casually. He extended a hand up towards me. "Now what do you say you get down here so I can walk into this wedding reception with the most beautiful girl here on my arm?"

"You're not supposed to say that!" I protested, as George let out a laugh from beside me and headed back down the stairs, pausing on the third step from the bottom and leaping off.

"I'm going to go in and find Katie," he said. "See you two inside."

Fred glanced at George and nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to me.

"Come on, Soph, my arm's getting tired," he said with a smile.

I shook my head. "Didn't you hear anything I said outside?" I asked.

"I heard it. I just decided to miss the point. Isn't that the conclusion we came to?"

I stared down at him, trying to look annoyed, but failing to hide my smile.

"You know," Fred began, a teasing smile lighting up his face, "the alternative-the way you would apparently have it-is that I spend the night gushing about how Angelina is in fact the most beautiful girl here. Is that what you want?"

"No," I said, as Fred laughed. "But why does it have to be an extreme? I never said gush over her all night. But you could just acknowledge-"

"Fine-she looks beautiful," Fred said. "But you are still even more beautiful. I'm not changing my stance on that and I don't think you'd want me to, no matter how much you try to argue. Now, will you please come down here?"

I stared down at him, his hand still outstretched towards me, and I slowly made my way down the steps, my gold heels lightly clicking against the floor.

When I reached the last step, I smiled and placed my hand into Fred's before stepping down completely off the staircase.

"You know, I would never have expected that the girl I'm currently in a relationship with and planning to marry would be pressuring me to address how good my ex-girlfriend looks," Fred commented.

"I want you two to be on good terms," I said. "Friends even. You had a friendship long before before I met you, and long before you had a relationship with her." I shrugged. "I like Angelina. She's really nice. But most importantly, you having a good relationship with her is good for you. Even addressing what happened in the past helped you immensely. I want that for you."

Fred smiled and leaned in to kiss me. "You really do look beautiful," he told me quietly, his eyes traveling from my face to my feet and back up again. He took a step back from me, still holding onto my hand as he lifted it up and spun me slowly around, so he could look at me from all angles.

In addition to the gold pair of heels I had on, I was wearing a pale pink off the shoulder dress and some gold jewelry. My hair was curled and done in a lovely updo, with a few tendrils hanging loose and framing my face.

"Thanks," I replied, reaching up to adjust Fred's shirt collar. "And you look handsome."

"I know I do, but thanks for reminding me," Fred responded.

"Anytime." I rolled my eyes slightly as Fred gave my hand a squeeze and began leading me through a set of doors into the great hall.

I looked around in amazement, taking in the magnificently large room, the high ceilings, the floating candles, and the tall windows. The room was beautifully decorated for the wedding, but what really caught my eye was the ceiling. It looked as if there were no ceiling at all. All I could see was a bright blue sky and several large, puffy white clouds that were slowly drifting by.

"It's enchanted," Fred explained, noticing me gaping upwards. "It's not the real sky, but it looks like it. Whatever the current sky outside looks like, the ceiling reflects. No one needs to read the weather section of the Prophet here with a ceiling like that."

"I would imagine," I whispered, still gazing up at the ceiling in awe.

"Fred! Sophie!"

We were suddenly ambushed by a flurry of white as Angelina threw her arms around first me and then Fred. He smiled as he returned the hug and then stepped back to get a better look at her.

"Well, someone's glowing," he said, continuing to smile at her.

"You think so?" Angelina asked breathlessly. "I thought I'd be stressed beyond belief today, but I feel like I'm on cloud nine."

"Of course you do, you just got married," Fred said. "And it was a beautiful wedding. You did great putting this all together."

"Thanks, Fred," Angelina said. "That means a lot."

"It's the truth," I chimed in. "You deserve to feel as good as you do right now."

Angelina beamed at me. "Thanks! What about you? Has the wedding planning driven you absolutely insane yet?"

Fred let out a loud snort from beside me. "She's been going off about having so much to do in so little time since the day after we got engaged."

"She's not wrong about that," Angelina chastised, shooting him a look. She turned back to me. "If you ever need a break and want to get out for a bit and get away from this idiot,"-she lightly shoved Fred's arm- "let me know. We'll go out for a drink or something."

"I'd like that," I said with a smile.

Fred rolled his eyes. "I haven't been all that bad, you know."

"Sure, Fred," Angelina laughed, patting his arm. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." She turned and glanced over her shoulder. "I have to go greet some other guests, but I'll catch up with you later. Go eat something, mingle, enjoy yourselves, and I expect to see you both on the dance floor later."

"I'll be the first one there," Fred assured her.

Angelina snorted. "I don't doubt that."

Fred smiled. "Go on, go complete the rest of your bridal duties."

Angelina smiled at us and said she'd see us later before turning and heading in the opposite direction.

Fred and I went to get drinks and then found our seats for dinner. We had been seated at a table with George, Katie, Alicia and her date, and Lee and Allie.

"So...how do you like Hogwarts?" Allie asked me with a smile as I sat down beside her.

"It's beautiful," I answered. "It's a lot bigger than Ilvermorny. I don't know how any of you managed to make it to classes on time."

"It's not that bad if you know all of the secret passageways," Fred said. "Which George and I do."

"And yet, I don't seem to remember you ever being on time to a class," Katie said with a raised eyebrow, looking at George over the rim of her glass.

"Fred and I didn't use the passageways to avoid being late," George laughed. "You know that."

"But Fred just said trying to make it to class on time wouldn't be bad if someone knew the passageways," I said.

"I was speaking hypothetically," Fred shrugged. "If someone we're actively trying to make it to class on time if they were running late, the passageways would help. I didn't say it was something I ever did."

"But weren't you and George the only two who knew all the passageways?" Katie asked.

"That we were," Fred said proudly, a grin lighting up his face as he took a long sip of his own drink. "We actually asked Dumbledore once if that qualified us for a trophy in the trophy room. He said unfortunately not, much to our dismay."

"What a shame," I said with a laugh. "I'm not sure I agree with that decision."

"George and I definitely didn't," Fred said with a roll of his eyes. "Ron said that even fucking Voldemort himself has a damn trophy!"

"For what?" I asked in surprise.

"For supposedly turning in the person who opened the Chamber of Secrets-the first time, of course," Fred said bitterly. "And he didn't even do it properly! He falsely accused Hagrid for no reason other than he didn't want to be sent home if the school closed. Hagrid got expelled for that." He shook his head and swirled the ice around in his drink. "Voldemort was a fucking prick."

"I'd expect you to use a more colorful choice of words to describe him," I commented, looking at Fred in amusement as I traced a finger around the bottom edge of my glass. "And I wouldn't stop you in this case. He deserves it."

Fred shot me a quick glance before looking back into his drink, a wry smile on his face. "The words fucking prick weren't colorful enough for you?"

"Not where Voldemort is concerned. And I know they're definitely not colorful enough for you," I replied, letting out a quiet snort of laughter.

"I mean, sure, I would be more than willing to let out a very loud, very long stream of colorful swear words for all of Angelina's wedding guests to hear," Fred said, nudging me. "And I'm sure George and Lee would love to join in."

"Please don't," Allie begged, glancing at Lee, who had perked up slightly at Fred's suggestion.

"They won't," I assured her, sending a warning look Fred's way.

"Soph, how many times do we have to tell you? Angelina most likely planned-"

"I don't care if she planned for the sky to fall today," I said, lightly shoving his arm. "You and George should behave because it's the right thing to do."

"But is it the fun thing to do?" Fred asked.

"I'm guessing your answer to that is no," I replied with a small smile.

Fred grinned and nodded before looking down into his drink and swirling it around again. He looked back up at me. "Think of it this way-at least anything George and I would pull would be funny, or out of jest."

"Depends on what you do and who's affected," I pointed out.

"My point was that I'm not throwing plates or jumping into the Black Lake for the Giant Squid to finish me off," Fred said with a dry laugh and a roll of his eyes. He flashed me a tiny, almost sad smile. "That would ruin the wedding in a very different way, don't you think?"

My breath caught in my chest as I looked at him, softening slightly. "Don't say that," I whispered. "Not even in a poor attempt to act as if you're poking fun at your old habits."

Fred shrugged. "I'm here, Soph, aren't I? I'm sitting here at Angelina's wedding. I watched her marry another man and I'm okay with it. More than okay. I think George and I pulling a prank would prove that. Angelina may cry tears of relief, actually. Did you ever consider that?"

I laughed. "No. But maybe I should have. You're right. As odd as it sounds, you causing a bit of humor driven trouble means you're mentally sound. Interestingly enough."

"I'm glad you're finally on board," Fred said casually. "So when everyone here turns into a canary after dessert, you can't say a word."

I rolled my eyes. "From what I'm understanding, it sounds like I won't be able to say a word anyway, considering we're all going to be canaries."

"Maybe I misspoke," Fred laughed. He reached over and lightly placed his hand on the side of my neck, his fingers curling towards the back as he ran his thumb over my jaw. "I shouldn't have said everyone. I'd obviously give you a pass."

"Don't lie," I snorted. "You'd get even more of a laugh turning me into a canary."

Fred responded by grinning and leaning over to kiss me. "I'm not going to confirm or deny that," he said. "My lips are sealed."

"For once," I answered mildly.

Dinner was served not long afterwards and no sooner had I swallowed my last bite than Fred had grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet.

"Time for dancing," he announced, tugging me towards the center of the room, which was free of tables to create a dance floor. Other guests were already gathering there as well, moving in time to the music.

It was just like every other wedding we'd attended. Fred, George, and Lee were three of the wildest, loudest, and most exuberant dancers there. They barely even stopped to take a break. It only took moments for their ties to come undone and lay hanging loosely from their necks, their collars rumpled and their hair a mess.

At one point, Allie, Katie, and I left the boys to it and went for a walk, heading out the front doors and onto the school grounds. Katie and Allie pointed a few things out to me, like the gamekeeper's hut, the Quidditch pitch, and, off in the distance, the Forbidden Forest. We walked down to the Black Lake and we were even surprised by a glimpse of the Giant Squid-one long tentacle slithering out of the water for a brief moment before it sunk back below the surface again.

"It's peaceful out here," I commented, looking out across the water. "Ilvermorny didn't have a lake as big as this. We had a small pond. It was lovely, don't get me wrong, but this-" I gestured to the lake, "this is impressive. I've noticed that Hogwarts seems to be a lot like Ilvermorny, but everything is just bigger."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Katie said. "I got lost on my first day here. I had no idea where to go or how long it would take me to get from place to place so I didn't know yet how to plan my time. Oh, and some of the upper staircases like to move, which is a right pain in the ass. And of course, I was late to my very first Potions class and Snape took ten house points from Gryffindor for it."

"He took five points from Hufflepuff once because I accidentally sneezed over my cauldron," Allie said with a roll of her eyes. "He said-and I quote-flobberworm mucus isn't an ingredient in this particular potion." She had made her voice low and nasally in an imitation of the professor and she rolled her eyes again after relating what he'd said.

"He actually told you that?" I asked, my eyes wide. When Allie nodded, I let out a low whistle. "What was his problem?"

"He had several problems," Katie said.

"Isn't this the same man that Hermione set on fire because she and Ron thought he was jinxing Harry's broom?" I asked. "And the same man that hit George with the curse that took off his ear?"

Katie nodded and an expression of annoyance crossed her features. "Clearly, this man was a delight."

"I can see that," I said, rolling my own eyes this time.

"As much as I don't believe in speaking ill of the dead," Allie sighed, "he really was awful. Double agent or not."

After a while, we turned around and headed back to the castle, slipping into the Great Hall where the party was still in full swing.

"Are the boys still dancing?" Katie muttered, craning her neck to look for Fred, George, and Lee.

"Either that or they went off to look for some trouble to get into," Allie said. "Which might be the case because I don't see them anywhere."

"I see George and Lee," Katie suddenly said, pointing to the table we'd been sitting at earlier. George was standing by his chair, talking to Lee in a low voice as they looked around the room.

After a second, George noticed us and began heading over.

"Hey, what's going on?" Katie asked with a frown as George came nearer to us, Lee close behind.

"You haven't seen Fred, have you?" He murmured, leaning in to give Katie a quick kiss.

"No, when we left, he was still with you," Katie said, her frown deepening.

"He said he had to go use the loo, but that was ten minutes ago," Lee said. "He's a little drunk, though, so he could've fallen in."

"He could've gone for a walk," Allie suggested hopefully. "We didn't see him outside, but he could be anywhere in the castle."

George sighed before a thoughtful look came over his face. "Maybe," he said slowly.

"I'm sure he'll be back in a moment," I said with a shrug.

"You're not worried?" Allie asked.

I shrugged. "Not completely. I trust him. And I really think we have to trust him. That's all he's ever asked from us."

"Yeah," George said, still frowning slightly. "I do trust him, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's always going to be okay. It doesn't mean he's never going to have to fight off waves of emotion as they come."

I was quiet for a moment. I myself had even told Fred that overwhelming emotions would never stop completely. They'd just start coming in smaller, separate waves instead of one big, constant one.

But even still, and despite my worry about him, I wanted to trust Fred to work through it on his own.

"He was okay earlier. He's been okay," I finally said. "He's been okay for months."

"He's never going to be entirely okay, Soph," George said sadly. "You know that."

"I do," I said, squeezing my eyes closed as I let out a sigh. "I guess what I meant is that he's better. And we really do need to trust him so that we can continue to help him get better. We can't freak out every time he leaves the room."

"I know," George said. "And I wasn't worried until only about a few minutes ago. Something's up. I know it."

"You think the wedding got to him?" I asked, raising my eyebrows doubtfully.

"No, I don't think it's the wedding," George said slowly. He raised his eyes to meet mine. "I think something else began to bother him."

"What?" I asked.

George swallowed and kept his eyes trained on mine for a moment. Finally, he stepped forward and grabbed my arm. "Come with me. I think I know where he is." He began pulling me from the room, glancing over his shoulder only to tell the others to stay where they were.

"Where are we going?" I asked as George led me up the marble staircase.

"The seventh floor," he answered.

"What's on the seventh floor?" I asked.

George didn't answer. Instead, he pulled me to the side of a corridor on the second floor and pushed back a tapestry, revealing a secret passageway. He pulled me through it, down another corridor, up another flight of stairs and around a corner. And then he came to an abrupt halt, causing me to stumble into him.

I looked past him and let out a quiet breath of air that I hadn't realized I'd been holding when I saw Fred sitting on the floor about halfway down the corridor. He was leaning against the wall and staring absentmindedly at the wall across from him, his legs bent at the knees and his elbows resting on his kneecaps. He was loosely holding his drink glass by the rim. It dangled between his legs as he moved it slightly back and forth, the ice clinking gently inside.

"I was beginning to think that I was wrong and that you two weren't actually going to look for me," Fred said, his voice flat as he continued to stare at the wall. "But I will give you credit. It took you double the amount of time to get here than what I'd guessed."

I looked over at George. I'd hoped Fred hadn't seen us yet and that we still had the chance to leave him be now that we saw he was okay. Or, at least, okay in the sense that he wasn't putting himself in harms way or destroying anything.

"Ever heard of peripheral vision?" Fred asked. "I have it, you know, so of course I saw you two standing there gaping."

"It's like he's a mind reader," I muttered to George, who scoffed. I turned back to Fred and began to walk towards him. "We just didn't know where you'd gone."

"I told everyone I was going to the loo," Fred answered. He was still staring straight ahead at the wall in front of him.

"This doesn't look like the bathroom to me," I commented, looking around. "Besides, everyone said you were gone a long time."

"Did they?" Fred snorted. "They're well versed in how long it takes me to use the toilet, are they?"

"Fred, don't get snarky with Sophie," George demanded, starting to follow me down the hallway towards Fred. "I was the one who wanted to come look for you. She, on the contrary, didn't think it was necessary."

"So, in other words," Fred said, "you didn't trust me and she did. That's really good of her. She should trust me, considering we're going to be married at the end of the year."

I stopped short, three quarters of the way down the hallway to Fred. I tried to hide my flinch at his words, not wanting to show how much they'd stung.

"Come on, mate," George sighed, coming to a stop just behind me.

"Don't mate me," Fred snapped, glancing at George stonily.

"Well, then stop talking to Sophie like that," George answered, matching Fred's tone. "She has nothing to do with this."

"And yet here she is," Fred said.

"Because I dragged her here," George said. "Literally. She loves you, Fred. We both do."

Fred simply shrugged in response.

"As you, Fred, were so keen to point out," George went on in annoyance, "you and Sophie are going to be married at the end of the year. She's going to be your wife. And this is how you want to speak to her? Even if she wasn't the person you wanted to spend your life with-even if she was a nobody off of the street-she's a human being and doesn't deserve your snark."

Fred didn't say anything. He stayed completely still for a moment, still glaring straight ahead at the wall. And then he finally gave the smallest of nods to acknowledge what George had said.

"That's it?" George demanded. "You're not even going to look her in the eye and apologize? You won't even-"

I let out a sigh and turned back to look at George, putting a hand on his arm to cut him off. With my other hand, I motioned for him to go back downstairs. "It's alright, George. Just go back downstairs. I've got this."

I saw George hesitate for a bit. "Are you sure?" He asked quietly.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'll talk to him. Don't worry about it."

George studied me for a moment longer before nodding and turning to walk away, throwing one last glance over his shoulder as he did so.

I, on the other hand, cleared my throat and walked the rest of the way over to Fred. I smoothed down the skirt of my dress before taking a seat beside him. I sat there in silence, staring across at the wall, the same way he was.

We sat there in silence for a bit longer until Fred finally spoke. "I can't even tell," he finally murmured, a note of slight amazement in his voice.

"Can't tell what?" I asked quietly.

Fred lifted the hand holding his drink and gestured with it towards the wall across from us, one finger lifting from the rim of the glass to point. "I can't even tell that wall was ever blown apart. They repaired it well. There's not even a crack."

My breath caught in my chest as I realized what he was saying and where we were. I swallowed before getting to my feet and crossing to the other side of the hallway. I ran my hand over the cool stone of the wall, looking it up and down. Fred was right. Not even a crack. As it should have been, obviously. But he was right-no one would ever know what had happened here unless they had been there that night.

I thought back to what Fred had told me of what happened, wracking my brain for every detail. Eventually I turned and looked back across the hallway-on the side Fred was sitting. There was a tapestry hanging there, not far from where Fred was.

Holding my breath, I crossed the hall and stood in front of the tapestry. Slowly, I reached out for it, my fingers pausing inches from the edge, unable to grab it and pull it back. Finally, I did. I swept it to the side and saw a small alcove in the wall.

I tried to picture Percy dragging Fred here and hiding him in the small space. It was tall enough, but not very wide. Fred would've had to curl up inside with his already broken and dislocated bones. I couldn't imagine how much more it had pained him to contort his body to fit back here. Percy must have really had to help him. It must have been slow. Percy must have been focused on what he was doing, and easily could have missed someone else aiming at him to kill.

My mind wandered back to Fred. Lying here in immense pain, watching his brother save his life and try to shield him from more harm, and then be murdered while doing so-right in front of Fred's eyes, while he sat here, immobile.

I sniffled as a few tears rapidly fell from my eyes and dripped down my cheeks. I quickly swiped them away. I hadn't even realized I'd been crying.

"He was kneeling exactly where you're standing."

Fred had come up behind me now. I could sense his presence and could tell from how close his voice had been when he'd spoken. But I didn't turn around. Instead, I continued staring at the small space hidden behind the tapestry.

"Fred," I whispered tearfully.

"The pain was unbearable," Fred went on. "I told you that. I was moments from passing out." He paused for a second. "Percy was trying to hide me as well as he could and make me as comfortable as he could. He said he knew a charm that would numb the pain for a bit. But before he could do it..." He trailed off. "And the last thing he saw was his pathetic younger brother, lying here helplessly with his face contorted in pain. Hiding. Like a coward."

I whirled around to face him. "You weren't hiding," I insisted. "He's the one who put you here. To save your life!"

"But I should've-"

"No-you should have nothing. What could you have done, Fred?" I asked, letting out a sob as my tears began to fall harder.

"So much," he whispered, shaking his head.

"Fine, then tell me. Tell me-what could you have done? If you could go back in time-what would you have done differently?"

"I have told you-I wouldn't have let Percy get distracted trying to help me. I wouldn't have let myself be distracted by his joke. Otherwise I would have seen the wall about to explode. This only happened because of my negligence."

"What I'm hearing is that you would have let yourself potentially die instead," I answered fiercely.

"So what if I did?" Fred asked. "I would have died saving a life."

"And that's exactly what Percy did!" I exclaimed. "He died saving a life. I don't know him, but I'd like to think he'd consider it all worth it."

"You're just biased," Fred scoffed. "Naturally, you'd rather have Percy be the one who died."

I stood there and gaped at him for a second, stunned into silence. "Is that really the kind of person you take me for?" I finally asked quietly. "You said it yourself-we're supposed to be getting married at the end of the year. We're supposed to be getting married and that's how you think I feel? Do you really think that little of me?"

Fred flinched, the regret of his words etched on his face. He bowed his head, running a hand over his face before looking back up at me sadly. "Soph, no..." He took a step closer to me, reaching out for my arm, but I took a step back from him, shrugging my arm away from his hand.

"We talked about this," I whispered. "You lashing out purely out of emotion. Did you really mean what you just said? You really think I don't care that Percy's dead? You really think I'd prefer him dead?"

"No, I know you care," Fred said. "I'm sorry. I just meant-you don't know him, Soph. You never even got to meet him, no matter how much I wish you did. You have no sort of attachment to him whatsoever."

"I do because he's your brother and I love you."

"Exactly. All your attachment is with me, and anything you feel for him is through me or because of me. Percy is virtually a stranger to you. Things could've easily been different the night of the battle. It could have easily been me. Easily. You and I never would have met. And you would never have the feelings for me that you do. I would have been the stranger."

"But it wasn't," I answered. "And that's not my fault...I didn't plan or choose any of this, Fred. I didn't plan on even becoming your friend."

"I know," Fred whispered. "It's not your fault. I'm not saying that it is. But what I am saying is that because you love me, obviously you're not going to want to entertain the idea of me dying instead."

"No, of course not, and why should I?" I cried. "Fine, yes, it just so happened to work out the way where you lived and I met you. And yes I fell in love with you and no, I never got to meet Percy, but that's not something I chose. I couldn't control that. I wish Percy lived as well. I wish I got to meet him, believe me. But either way-I still don't want either of you dead."

"But-" Fred interrupted, but I shook my head and kept going.

"It's awful that he died, Fred and I'm sorry you have to carry this grief." I stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest, spreading my fingers out over his shirt, feeling for his heartbeat as I sniffled. "But you can't say you wish you'd died Percy's death in his place and take away the meaning of his death. He loved you. He made mistakes, but he loved you." I looked up at him tearfully. "And besides-I'd hate to think of where I'd be right now if you had died. Certainly not standing here with an engagement ring on my finger, feeling more loved than I've ever felt before." I paused and let out a sigh. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I am biased, but it doesn't mean I'd rather have Percy dead over you or I'm thanking Merlin every day it was him and not you. I am so grateful to have you, but I'm not celebrating Percy's death in any way."

"I know," Fred whispered, shaking his head. "I know. I'm sorry."

"It's just that I can't imagine a world-I can't imagine my world-without you in it."

"Soph," Fred murmured, bowing his head and reaching up to put a hand over mine, where it was lying on his chest.

"You saved my life, Fred. I'm sorry you couldn't have saved Percy's, but he saved you and you went on to save me. If you had died, I'd most likely be dead, too."

"Don't say that," Fred whispered. "That's not true, Soph. You don't know how things would have gone. Besides, you saved your own life by finally asking for and accepting some help."

"And who was the one who gave me no choice but to realize that it was okay to need to do that?" I asked. "Who was the one who came to help me when I asked for it? Who showed up with nearly his whole family, some friends, and the fucking Minister of Magic to get me out of a situation that would've ended with my death? Not many other people would have done that, Fred. And even if they would, who knows how many things would have been different if it hadn't been you. Who knows if I would've even met them. Maybe they wouldn't have been Leaky Cauldron regulars and Merlin knows I wasn't venturing out on my own."

Fred's grip on my hand tightened a bit as I spoke. "Sophie," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"You told me last August that now you felt you had something to live for," I went on. "You told me that you had me and that you had your family-that you'd always had your family. You said that not caring about your own life would be a shitty way of repaying Percy for what he did."

"I know," Fred whispered. "And I did--do-feel that way. But sometimes-sometimes all the other feelings become overwhelming for a while."

"I know you've been grieving Percy for the past few years and grieving him hard," I said. "And you should. I'm not telling you that you have no right being sad or missing him or even having those bad days where the grief overwhelms you. You do have that right and you know I'll be by your side through all of it. But when you start talking about dying in Percy's place, or beating yourself up for not helping him when you couldn't have and when any help you did give would more than likely result in worsening your injuries or killing you-do you have any idea how that hurts me? I love you, Fred. I don't want you to feel that way, for one thing. And without you, I'd either be dead myself, or I'd be the one grieving this way. Along with so many other people. You know that, but every so often you seem to forget. How do you think it makes me feel, hearing you disregard your own life? The life you asked me to be a part of."

Fred pulled away for a brief moment, only to set his drink on the ground. And then he'd pulled me into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around me and kissing the top of my head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as I sniffled into his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I can't help feeling this way sometimes. It just happens. But upsetting you isn't what I want. It just hurts, Soph. It hurts so fucking much and I can't stop it."

"I know," I whispered back. "I just wish you didn't ever feel like that. As if it should've been you instead of Percy. It really shouldn't have been either of you."

"In a perfect world, that's how it would be," Fred sighed. "And I'm sorry for lashing out at you earlier. George was right. You didn't do anything to deserve it. Neither of you did."

"I did tell him we needed to trust you," I whispered. "But he gets scared, Fred. He doesn't want to lose you too."

"I know," Fred murmured. "I'll talk to him later." When I nodded, he kissed the top of my head again before pulling back and taking my face in his hands. He smiled as he looked me over. "Well, someone certainly looks like a raccoon."

I let out a watery laugh as I wiped my eyes. "Can you fix it?" I asked, looking up at Fred.

He nodded and pulled out his wand, waving it to not only fix my makeup, but dry the tear stains on his shirt. When he was done, he tucked his wand away again and smiled at me. "Beautiful," he said, reaching out to brush my cheek with his thumb. He sighed. "I'm okay, Soph. I'm okay. I promise."

I nodded. "I wish-I wish I could do something more to help you. To stop you from feeling any of the pain."

"You'd have to be able to bring back the dead to do that," Fred responded wryly. He let out a deep sigh and rubbed a hand over his face. "It all just came over me like a damn tsunami," he said. "I'd started to forget just how absolutely crushing it could be."

My insides twisted unpleasantly at his words. I'd meant what I'd said. I wished there was something I could do to help him. Something that would stop the pain from returning as forcefully as it did. Something that would make Fred's life a little easier, just like the Sophie's Wings potion had done for me. It didn't seem fair that I couldn't help him in the same way.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I know what that's like. And as I said, I wish there was something I could do."

"I know," he whispered back with a slight nod.

"Are you ready to head back to the wedding now or not just yet?" I finally asked, tilting my head towards the end of the hallway that lead back to the Great Hall.

"Not just yet," Fred responded with a smile. He took my hand and pulled me in the other direction. "I actually would love to show you around Hogwarts. I want to show you places with happier memories."

And that he did. He showed me all around the school-the secret passageways, some of the classrooms, and he even showed me the kitchens.

"I'm going to guess this place was normally off limits to students," I said, examining the room intently before turning and leaning backwards against one of the four long tables as I smiled at Fred knowingly.

He nodded. The moment we'd entered the room, we'd been greeted by a few house elves. They'd greeted Fred like overjoyed old friends and promised to bring him whatever food or drink he wanted. Then, he'd introduced me, and the two elves-Ash and Joy-had both sunk into bows so low that their pointy noses had almost touched the floor. They'd called me Miss Sophie and completely doted on me, which made me blush. They were really sweet.

"George and I figured out how to sneak in when we were twelve," Fred said, coming to stand beside me. "We had this map-a map that showed the entire school and everyone in it as well as where they were at all hours of the day. We knew the kitchens were here but didn't know how to get in. We examined every inch of the outside hallway, including trying to pry the fruit panting off the wall." He gestured to the painting we'd come in from. "In the end, one of us accidentally brushed our hand against the pear and the bloody thing laughed. And then the painting opened. The house elves doted on us, as you saw, and George and I thought knowing about this place was knowledge too good to be wasted."

"I can see why," I replied. I wandered over to the four long, wooden tables that took up most of the room we were in. "What are these for?" I asked, stopping in between the first and second table.

"The Great Hall is directly above us," Fred said. "Normally, there are four tables there-directly above these. One for each House. The house elves send the food up by setting these tables down here, and magic does the rest to make everything appear on the tables upstairs."

I smiled. "Interesting. That's almost exactly how it worked at Ilvermorny, too."

Moments later, Ash and Joy returned with a few small packages of food and handed one to me and one to Fred. We thanked them and then we were on our way again.

"I know we ate dinner already, but all that dancing we did afterwards has me famished," Fred said, looking into the bag he was holding.

"You know, I bet Angelina and Oliver are going to be cutting the cake soon," I pointed out. "It would be rude to miss it, don't you think? Maybe we should save what the house elves gave us for later."

Fred looked over at me with a wry smile. "You think I want to watch Ange and Oliver cut a frilly white cake?"

"It would be polite to, even if you don't want to," I reasoned. "And at the very least, don't you want to eat it?"

Fred stopped and fully turned to look at me. "Soph, the cake flavor they chose was carrot cake."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Who chooses carrot cake for their wedding cake?" He mused. "Carrots are the absolute last thing that belong in cake. It's chocolate or nothing for me."

"It's not your wedding so your opinion doesn't matter," I laughed.

"No, but I can certainly skip out on eating such a terrible choice," Fred answered, resuming his walk down the hallway. "To hell with being polite. I don't have to waste time on being polite with Angelina. She loves carrot cake, so by all means she should have it today. But she also knows full well that I don't like it, so she won't be surprised or offended if I skip out. Now, come on. Follow me."

Fred led me back up several flights of stairs and through a few more passageways until we came to a portrait of a woman in a pink dress. She remained still until we'd stopped right in front of her. And then she tilted her head down to look at us curiously.

"I can't let you in," she said, looking at Fred. "It's the summer holidays for one thing. And don't think I don't remember that you're no longer a student here anyway."

"I'm flattered that you remember me that well," Fred said with a grin. "But see, I happen to have obtained the last password that was used before school let out. It's still in effect until it gets changed before the new school term, yes?"

"It still does not mean you're allowed to enter a common room that is no longer yours."

"Don't worry," Fred told her. "I know McGonagall personally."

"So do I," the woman in the portrait said.

"She'd be okay with letting me in for a bit."

"She gave me exact orders not to. This is how this has always worked, Mr. Weasley, for hundreds of years before and for hundreds of years after. You know that."

"What I know is that people would give you the password and you'd let them in. Simple. Also, the password is Wiggenweld."

"Who told you that?" The woman asked.

"I know Professor Longbottom personally," Fred went on. "He's the one who gave it to me."

"You forget I also know Mr. Longbottom personally," the woman replied calmly. "And you've also apparently forgotten that he is the head of Hufflepuff house, not Gryffindor. He is also not the headmaster."

Fred thought a moment. "What if I say that I know Kingsley Shacklebolt personally? He's the Minister of Magic."

"And? He does not have direct authority over this school."

Fred sighed. "She's tough," he muttered, looking at me.

"We don't have to go in, Fred," I whispered. "We can just forget about it."

He shook his head. "No, we can't." He turned back to the portrait. "Look, you obviously know who I am. I gave you the password. I'm not here to do anything wrong-"

The woman in the portrait let out a scoff and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not!" Fred insisted. "I mean it." He put an arm around me. "I just want to show my fiancée my old common room. I mean, just look at her face." He nudged me closer to the portrait. "How can you say no to a face as pretty as Sophie's?"

"The same way I say no to everyone else," the woman said as I turned and gave Fred a look.

"We're just going to hang out," Fred went on. "I solemnly swear."

"You're not going to go away until I let you in, are you?" The woman sighed.

"No," Fred answered with a grin.

"And you promise you're not going to set off any explosions or leave the place in ruins?"

"Have I ever?" Fred asked sweetly.

"Would you really like me to answer that?"

Fred simply shrugged.

The woman let out another deep sigh and finally, the portrait swung forward to reveal an archway shaped hole in the wall.

"Come on, in you go," Fred said, nudging me forward and laughing at the look on my face. "Didn't you have anything like this at Ilvermorny? You went to a magical school, too, and yet you look like you've never seen magic before."

"No, we did have things similar to this, but not quite the same."

"How did you get into your common room?" He asked, gesturing for me to enter through the portrait first.

"Through a mirror," I answered, stepping into the room and glancing over my shoulder as Fred followed me. "It talked, just like the portrait did. And the mirror could recognize each member of Thunderbird House. It could even detect disguises, so Polyjuice Potion wouldn't work to sneak in. It was very safe."

"Interesting," Fred said. "The Fat Lady's tough, as you saw. She's useless against Polyjuice Potion, though."

"I heard that," she said, as the portrait swung shut behind us.

Fred and I looked at each other and laughed before Fred fully led me into the room. He left my side to start a fire in the large fireplace across the room, leaving me to look around. Besides the fireplace, there were several inviting looking armchairs as well as a couch. A notice board stood on one side of the room, covered in pieces of parchment. Some were notices for lost items, some were about cancelled classes or events, and there was even one sheet of parchment that depicted only a drawing of what looked like a troll. Another person had drawn an arrow on the bottom, pointing to the troll, and written Livvie's boyfriend. And yet another person-I assumed it was Livvie-had written Fuck you, Matt.

I snorted and rolled my eyes.

"What are you scoffing at over there?" Fred asked, from where he'd just finished lighting the fire.

"Teenagers," I said, pointing to the piece of parchment stuck to the board as Fred came over to join me.

He looked at the drawing and read the notes before laughing. "Looks like Matt's got a thing for this Livvie. I guarantee it."

I pursed my lips as I studied the drawing for a moment. Suddenly, I noticed a forgotten quill lying discarded on a nearby table. I grabbed it, dipped it in the ink bottle lying next to it, and then began to add my own note to the drawing. When I was done, I pulled back and dropped the quill back onto the table, nodding in satisfaction.

Fred took one look at what I'd done and burst into laughter. "Brilliant!"

I'd drawn a giant heart at the bottom of the page, and in the center, I'd written Matt loves Livvie.

Fred picked up the quill as well and took to the parchment, unable to resist adding his own personal touch. He drew an arrow pointing directly at the troll's face and wrote one thing: Matt.

"Perfect," Fred said, setting down the quill.

I stared at him in slight amusement. "Are you done re-living your school-aged finest memories?"

"What makes you think I was doing things like this back then?" Fred asked, pretending to be offended.

"Because you do things like this now," I pointed out, nodding towards the parchment on the notice board. "Clearly."

"You started it," he retaliated with a shrug. But he didn't say anything else. Instead, he just smiled widely, which confirmed my assumption about him as correct.

He took my hand and led me to the couch. He'd set up everything the house elves had given us on the table in front of the fireplace.

"Romantic," I commented, taking a seat as Fred sat down as well and passed me a piece of raspberry tart. "And this looks delicious."

"Better than carrot cake by far," Fred said happily as he took a piece for himself.

"Don't be rude," I muttered with a quiet laugh as I nudged his knee with mine.

"I'm not the rude one," Fred said with a laugh of his own. "Angelina picked carrot cake as her wedding cake knowing full well I despise vegetables anywhere near my dessert."

"Yet you don't have anything against fruit being near your dessert," I commented, gesturing to the raspberry tart.

"Fruit is different," Fred argued, shaking his head and licking a bit of raspberry off of his finger. "Tell me, how would you feel about a broccoli tart?"

I laughed. "Okay, point taken."

"Besides," Fred went on, "I'd much rather hide away up here alone with you than be back down there with everyone else."

"Come on, Fred, don't pretend you're as introverted as I am. I know you're not."

"It has nothing to do with introversion," Fred argued, "and everything to do with just wanting to be alone with you." He smiled at me. "I never thought I'd get the opportunity to hang out with you in my old common room. I had to take it while I could."

I studied him solemnly for a moment. "Sometimes I wish..." I took in a deep breath and let out back out slowly. "Sometimes I wish we did go to school together. I wish-I don't know, that my mother and I had just been here from the start. Or that we'd made it here that night where Eric took her and she left me at the museum. I would have gone to school with you. I wouldn't have been so damaged. And I'd like to think that because of that, I would have been able to make friends. And I'm hoping one of them might've been you. I mean, I'm sure I could've made friends at Ilvermorny, too, under different circumstances, but I wish it could've have been here."

"Only sometimes?" Fred asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Hm?" I asked, snapping out of the half-trance I'd been in as I blinked at him.

"You said you sometimes wish that things had gone that way."

I stared at him, scrunching my lips from one side and then to the other as I considered my answer. "It's just-I really do wish that Eric had never been in my life at all. But then I also wonder-is that the only reason I have you?"

"What?" Fred asked in surprise

"What if that specific chain of events, however horrible they were, is the reason you and I are together now?" I set the dish with my half finished dessert back down on the table before looking back at Fred.

"What's wrong, you don't like fruit in your dessert?" He asked, tilting his head towards my plate.

I laughed as I turned slightly on the couch, angling my body towards his. I shrugged and let out another sigh. "I just meant-well, let's just say my mother and I had come here back when I was five and she wanted to run from Eric. Or if I'd been born here or if there was no Eric at all. Would things have gone the same way? Would you and I have ended up friends? Would we have fallen in love? Or would you have stayed with Angelina? Would I have still found Noah? Would he and I have stayed together?" I paused. "Would he still be dead?" I whispered.

Fred picked at the last bite of his own dessert, staring at it intensely as he pushed it around with his fork. Finally, he put down his plate next to mine before turning sideways, mirroring my own position, and resting his elbow on the back of the couch. He propped his head on his hand and stared back at me.

"Well, for one thing, Angelina and I broke up because of how I was after Percy died," he said. "And I hate to say it, but Percy probably would still be dead. And therefore, Angelina and I would still have broken up. You being in my life sooner wouldn't have changed that, I don't think." He shook his head. "Unless I'd dated you from the start and not Angelina."

"You think we would have?" I asked curiously.

Fred shrugged. "Why not?"

"If we'd met under different circumstances," I began. "If I'd just started school here like everyone else and been a regular student with a normal home life...would you and I have even talked? I think I would've been an entirely different person meeting you under those circumstances."

"And I would have liked you anyway," Fred said. "I didn't fall in love with you for the way you were when we first met. It was for who you were behind all those damn walls you had up."

"Yeah, but..." I let a puff of air out of my mouth. "You and I only met because first of all, you stepped on my foot. Secondly, I was working at the Leaky Cauldron, I was new here, and you were curious about me. We only grew closer because I came to you about the diary. If we take all that away-if we take away my entire past and change it-"

"Why do you insist on thinking so much about the what ifs?" Fred asked.

"I don't know, Fred," I sighed. "I guess it's just that being here," I gestured around the common room, "has me wondering what it would have been like being a student here. If I'd just been normal. I'm wondering if I could have had that normalcy and a happy childhood and still have gotten you. Or if I traded in my horrible past, would I lose you?"

"But who cares at this point?" Fred asked. "Everything bad about your past is over. You have me. You can't keep doing this, Soph. I know it's easier said than done-believe me, I know-but you have to let it go. You're going to drive yourself mad that way. Sure, you're still living with ghosts-we both are. But they're not chaining you down anymore, are they?"

I shook my head. "No, they're not."

"And you're happy now, aren't you?"

I nodded and looked over at Fred with a loving smile. "Very."

"Your past made you who you are," Fred insisted. "As did mine. And it all worked out in the end, so you have nothing to worry about. You just said you're happy. And for the record, I am totally yours, Soph. You're not going to lose me." He paused. "Is that really what this is about? You think I'm going to vanish in a puff of smoke? That I'm too good to be true?" He gave me a charming smile. "I mean-you wouldn't be the first to think that..."

I laughed. "Shut up." I sighed and shrugged again. "But maybe. Sometimes it still feels like all my happiness must be temporary."

"You need to stop walking on eggshells," Fred whispered. He raised his head from the hand he'd been propping it on and reached over to cup my face in his hand, his fingertips brushing my ear and his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. "Your happiness is not going anywhere. I am not going anywhere."

"You can't totally promise that," I said, my voice shaking slightly. "You know more than anyone how quickly things can change and how fast things and people can be taken away."

Fred sighed and leaned forward, kissing my forehead, then my nose, and then tilting his head downward and pausing with his lips an inch from mine. "We may not be able to control everything that happens to us, but I can tell you that as long as I'm alive, I'm not going anywhere. I don't want to go anywhere. I want to stay right here with you, Soph, okay? And every time you ever so infuriatingly start to doubt the permanence of your happiness, I'm going to remind you, damnit."

I sat completely still for a moment, barely even breathing. And then, I leaned in and closed the gap between me and Fred, sliding a hand to the back of his neck as I kissed him.

I pulled away only for a moment, to whisper out a breathy I love you. Fred smiled, but a second later, he'd returned to kissing me. He was now hovering above me on the couch and I'd stretched out beneath him.

"I love you, too," he murmured in between pressing a line of kisses along my jaw.

A moment later, he pulled away from me and stood up. Without a word, he'd reached down and effortlessly picked me up, one arm at my back and the other under my knees.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he headed for a spiral staircase at one side of the room.

"My old dormitory," he said, sending me a smirk. "You wanted to know what it would be like to be a student here and what it would be like if you and I still would've ended up together. Well, this is what it would be like. And what kind of person would I be if I didn't give you the full experience?"

I giggled as he nudged open a door on his right and stepped into the circular shaped dormitory, kicking the door shut behind us.

I barely had time to take in much more of the room besides the circular shape and the group of four poster beds before Fred had lightly tossed me onto the third bed from the left side of the door.

"Let me guess-this was your old bed?" I asked as Fred completely removed his already loosened tie and tossed it to the floor before crawling onto the bed.

"Of course," he muttered, leaning down to kiss me again. "And now it's someone else's. Probably some little innocent first year's."

He'd moved on to kissing my neck, so I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was smiling deviously.

"You're horrid," I whispered, raking a hand through his hair.

"Are you going to stop me?" Fred asked, pausing what he was doing just enough to tease me, his lips hovering over my collarbone.

"Absolutely not," I managed to breathe out.

Fred chuckled. "Good," he replied. And with that, he promptly went back to kissing me.

10 June, 1694. Lynn, Massachusetts.

It has been a few weeks since I have written an entry, but that is only because I have been so busy. I have been working many hours with Edward and Julia at their tavern-and I am eternally grateful that they did not turn Dorothy, John, and I out onto the streets when they found out the truth about us. It took them a bit of time-perhaps Edward more than Julia-for them to get past the matter of my dishonesty, but they let us stay regardless. And Edward has warmed up to me again in the months since my confession.

We celebrated Dorothy's sixth birthday in March. Julia and I made all of her favorites for dinner, and we also baked her a cake. The smile on the face of that beautiful little girl was the biggest I had ever seen.

I must say, she has been blossoming like an absolute flower in the last few months. She has been attending school in town and she is so very bright. Her best subject is arithmetic. She loves anything involving numbers. I have always preferred words to numbers myself, but I encourage her enthusiasm in my own way by letting her help me measure ingredients for potions-or even dinner for that matter.

I am still helping her with her magic-as much as I can while she is underage at least-and she has improved greatly. There were a few uncontrollable accidents at the beginning-but nothing like what happened the night her father died. She is much better at controlling it now. That mostly came from her improving mentally. I taught her that what she and I-and even her mother-can do is normal. Nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of if we use our gifts in the right way. I taught her about healing magic and potions and how they are the biggest form of helpful magic there is. She has her heart set now on becoming a Healer when she is older. She scraped her knee last week and watched me heal it with a paste made of herbs, her expression one of awe. She asked to learn how to make the paste I used. I told her I would be making more next week and she could watch-perhaps help for some of the uncomplicated bits.

As for baby John-he is just shy of eighteen months old now. He took his firs steps five months ago. He loathes peas. Loves carrots. He has John's nose, but my eyes-a bright, clear blue. He babbles incessantly A talker. I am not quite sure where he gets that from. Neither John nor I were ever excessively chatty. Although, I suppose I did always love a good conversation with the guests of the tavern John and I ran in Salem. And even here, once I got used to being in a new place in a new tavern that was not my own, interacting with new people, I suppose I blossomed as well.

Even though I am happy here and even though we are all thriving, I still woke up this morning with an ache in my chest. Today is the tenth of June. It is the second anniversary of the first deaths of the witch trials. Two years since my life began to slowly turn upside down. Parts of me still feel guilty. Guilty for being alive. Guilty for how well my life has turned out. Part of me continues to wonder if I will ever stop being or feeling guilty in one way or another. I am not sure of the answer yet, but I will write it down in the event I do find out.

What I do know, however, is that I need to continue to put one foot in front of the other. For Dorothy. For John. For myself. Look where it has gotten me. A new life. A second chance. As close to happiness as I think I shall ever be in the aftermath of what has happened. I think of my poor husband, who I miss dearly every moment of every day, and I know this is what he would want for me. This life that I am now living. Safe. Happy. And most of all free.

I will never take those things for granted again.