Chapter 13 - The Great Hall

Ava lay on her back staring at the ceiling of the hospital wing, her ankle gently throbbing beneath the gauze. The enchanted lanterns had dimmed hours ago, casting long shadows across the high stone walls. The other students were asleep… one softly snoring, another murmuring restlessly in her dreams. But Ava remained wide awake.

Her mind wouldn't stop turning.

She kept replaying it… her father's cold, furious entrance… the way he'd ignored her completely. His eyes hadn't even flicked to her bandaged foot. No hug. No Are you okay? Just a blazing glare at Professor Lupin and a demand for answers she didn't understand.

And Lupin, clearly shaken, though he'd hidden it well. They knew each other. That much was obvious. But how? And why did her father react like that?

Eventually, exhaustion pulled her under. But even then, her dreams offered no peace.


"Papa, are we going?" Ava called as she bent down to lace her trainers, her little fingers fumbling with the loops.

She bounced down the hallway toward her father's study, clutching the edges of her too-big jumper, her heart light with excitement. "I'm ready to go to the zoo! You promised!"

She stepped through the doorway and paused.

Anthony Johnson sat behind his massive desk, quill scratching steadily across the parchment. His face was set in a scowl of concentration, the lamplight casting sharp shadows across his features. His spectacles had slipped low on his nose. He didn't even glance up.

"Papa?" Ava tried again, a little softer.

He flinched slightly, startled at first but then sighed with visible irritation. "Do not raise your voice at me, Ava. I am working."

Her breath hitched. "But… it's my birthday. You said we could go today."

"I said I'm busy," he snapped, not even looking at her. "Go read or something. I'll take you another time."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. The lightness she'd felt just moments before drained from her chest like water from a cracked bowl.

She lingered in the doorway for another heartbeat, watching him dip his quill back into the inkpot. Then, silently, she turned and walked away.

He never called her back.

It had taken three buses, a handful of coins, and a slightly terrifying walk through the city but somehow, Ava had made it to the London Zoo.

She was only seven. And determined.

Her shoes were damp from the morning rain, and her coat sleeves hung past her fingers. She hadn't eaten breakfast. She wasn't even sure if she was hungry, just hollow, but none of that mattered once she stepped through the gates.

At first, she wandered aimlessly past the parrots and penguins, through the reptile house, then along the elephant enclosure. Every few minutes, someone would glance at her curiously–a zookeeper, a security guard, a kind-faced mum holding her toddler's hand.

"Where are your parents, sweetheart?"

Ava would answer without hesitation, without blinking. "They're waiting for me at the next stop."
"They just went to get cotton candy."
"My mum had to take my little brother to the loo."

Every time, it was something new and just believable enough to satisfy their concern. Eventually, they'd nod and move on, still unsure but unwilling to press further. Ava had already learned: that sometimes, if you sounded confident enough, adults wouldn't ask too many questions.

She ended up in front of the lemur habitat and there, she stopped.

A small troop of ring-tailed lemurs bounded between branches, their striped tails curling like question marks in the air. One of them perched high above the rest, lazily watching the crowd with large golden eyes. When Ava sat down on the nearby bench and hugged her knees to her chest, the lemur seemed to turn its gaze directly toward her. It tilted its head. So did she.

It felt like they understood each other…both quiet, both still, both alone in a sea of noise and color. Around her, families moved in happy little clusters–parents pointing out animals, children shrieking with laughter, siblings bickering and then making up. Ava didn't look away from them, but she didn't cry either. She just watched.

Eventually, the lemur reached out to a smaller one beside it and wrapped its tail around the younger's shoulders. A protective, simple gesture. Ava smiled. Just barely.

She stayed there for nearly an hour, unmoving. Watching them twist and tumble through the trees, light and quick and unbothered. Like they belonged to the air. They looked free. And for that hour, so did she.


Ava stirred, rolling onto her side in the hospital bed, the linen stiff and cool against her skin. A draft whispered through the open window above her, brushing the back of her neck and raising goosebumps.

"Pssst…"

She groaned and turned away, still half-asleep.

"Pssst!"

Something tickled her nose.

Her eyes flew open and she found herself staring into four green eyes hovering inches from her face.

She let out a muffled yelp, only for a hand to gently clamp over her mouth.

"Shhh," Fred whispered, grinning. "It's just us."

Ava blinked, heart thudding wildly. Fred and George Weasley were crouched beside her bed like mischievous phantoms, the moonlight catching the edges of their wild red hair.

"Merlin's beard," she hissed, swatting Fred's hand away. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in?"

George folded his arms, beaming with pride. "Honestly, love. Do you really think any institution could keep us out?"

Ava sat up fully, brushing hair from her face. She glanced around. The hospital wing was eerily quiet. The other beds were empty, their white sheets pulled taut and untouched. Only the faintest flicker of candlelight glowed from the sconces.

Her eyes landed on a slightly ajar slab of stone in the far corner, dark and unassuming.

Fred followed her gaze. "Found that in second year when I was stuck here with the mumps. Got bored... poked around. It opens into a tunnel that leads straight into the Armor Gallery."

George flopped dramatically onto the edge of her bed. "He only escaped so he could go find Hillary Maldoon. Had a raging crush. Used to practice snogging his pillow."

Fred scowled. "I did not."

"You named it," George added helpfully. "Sir Fluffington."

Ava let out a surprised laugh, but the sound faltered as she glanced around the room again. "You can tell me more about this Casanova phase later. You guys heard what happened tonight, right? About Sirius Black?"

Fred's expression shifted, not fearful, but serious. "Yeah. We heard."

"Do you know what actually happened? I keep hearing bits. Someone said he tried to break into Gryffindor Tower."

"That's what Lee said," George confirmed, glancing at the door. "We were in the Great Hall when it happened. McGonagall came flying in, looking like someone set her robes on fire. Then they moved all the students downstairs to sleep under Dumbledore's nose."

"Honestly, the safest place to be," Fred muttered. "If Black really was near the tower…"

Ava swallowed. "I don't like being up here alone."

"You're not," Fred said immediately. "You've got us."

She looked at him, really looked at him, and something in her chest softened.

George stood and clapped his hands once. "Which brings us to our next point. We're here to collect you. Madam Pomfrey's occupied, and you, dear Ava, are coming with us."

"Where?" she asked, even as she swung her legs out of bed.

"To the Great Hall. Dumbledore's orders. All students are sleeping there tonight. We're your personal escort."

"And just our luck," George added, "we've got a spot picked out right between us. Cozy. Snore adjacent."

Ava rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Fred already warned me about your snoring."

George perked up. "I've got a spare sleeping bag. Or, you know, we could share." He waggled his eyebrows.

Fred offered his hand. "Come on, love. Let's get you out of here before Pomfrey tries to force-feed you another cup of that swamp tea."

Ava rolled her eyes, laughing. "With your snoring? I'd rather take my chances with Peeves."

With a quiet laugh, she took his hand and slipped from the bed. Her foot twinged slightly, still sore, but nothing like earlier. The potion Pomfrey had given her was working quickly.

Together, they slipped through the hidden passage and into the darkened corridor, the stone walls cool and quiet around them. Ava shivered once, more from nerves than cold, but Fred's hand remained lightly at her back, steadying her.

And for the first time that night, she didn't feel so alone.


The Great Hall had been transformed. Gone were the long house tables and flickering chandeliers. In their place, sleeping bags and pillows blanketed the floor in messy clusters, lit by a canopy of softly glowing lanterns that floated lazily beneath the enchanted night sky. The ceiling showed a velvet-blue stretch of clouds rolling slowly above, a half-moon peeking through.

Ava stepped in behind Fred and George, flanked on the other side by Lee. The distant hum of an enchanted harp drifted over the gentle murmur of hushed voices. Some students were already fast asleep, curled into blankets with books clutched to their chests. Others whispered in tight little groups, trading rumors about Sirius Black.

Her heart still beat a little too fast, and her ankle ached more than she wanted to admit but the warmth of the hall, the proximity of people, and the soft glow overhead dulled the edge of it.

They weaved through the sea of students until George flopped dramatically onto an open space near the far wall.

"Ah, home sweet floor," he sighed, already digging into his bag for a licorice wand.

Fred dropped down beside him, giving Ava a hand as she gingerly sat between them. They'd brought a collection of spare jumpers and scarves from their bag which George promptly used as a pillow.

"Cozy enough?" Fred asked.

Ava nodded, sinking into the makeshift nest. "Better than Pomfrey's cot, that's for sure."

Within minutes, George's rhythmic snoring began. It was an almost melodic sort of honk-whistle that somehow didn't surprise her in the slightest.

She raised an eyebrow. "How do you live with that?" she whispered.

Fred leaned back on his elbows, his expression lazy and amused. "You get used to it," he said, nodding toward George's snoring. "Could be worse."

He tilted his chin subtly toward a nearby Hufflepuff boy who, in that exact moment, rolled over and released a sleep-fart so loud and forceful it lifted his blanket. A muffled snuffle followed…clearly unbothered.

Ava clapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold in a laugh but it burst out anyway, ending in a sharp, unintentional snort.

She immediately froze.

Fred slowly turned his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He reached out, gently pulling her hand down from her face as he leaned in, eyes twinkling in the lanternlight.

"Did you just snort?" he whispered, his voice laced with delight.

"No," she said firmly, cheeks burning.

"Oh yeah… I think you did," he teased, biting his lip as he tried to suppress a laugh.

"Okay, fine! I did," she muttered, burying her face in her sweater. "Sexy, isn't it?"

"Oh, incredibly," he said with mock seriousness. "It's basically my biggest turn-on. Laugh-snorting and sarcasm? Deadly combo." He gave a mock shiver and dramatically placed a hand over his heart like he was overcome. "Merlin help me if you start quoting historical hexes. I might propose on the spot."

Ava snorted again, on purpose this time, and groaned. "Stop. My dignity is already on life support."

Fred bumped her shoulder with his. "Dignity's overrated."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who sounds like a cartoon pig when they laugh."

Fred leaned in a little closer, his face half-lit by the glow of a floating lantern above them. "I dunno… I think I'd keep you around just for the noise alone."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're a menace."

"And you're adorable," he said before he could stop himself, not flirty, not teasing. Just… honest.

She laughed again, rolling onto her back and stretching beneath the lantern-lit ceiling. A sudden chill drifted through the hall and curled around her shoulders. She shivered and pulled the borrowed sweaters closer but it wasn't quite enough.

Without a word, Fred unzipped his sleeping bag and tossed it over her like a blanket.

Her eyes widened. "You'll freeze."

He shrugged, settling onto his side. "Please. I'm a Weasley. Cold builds character."

"You could share, you know," she said after a beat, tugging the edge of the sleeping bag open. "It's big enough. And warmer."

Fred paused, just for a moment, then rolled onto his side and slipped under the blanket beside her. His warmth filled the space instantly, and Ava's breath hitched despite herself. He adjusted the cover, tucking the edge around her shoulders before settling down, their arms brushing.

"Right," he murmured, voice low and serious. "If we're sharing, we need ground rules."

Ava turned her head, eyebrow raised. "Ground rules?"

He nodded solemnly. "Very important in any cohabitation arrangement. Rule number one: no funny business."

Her lips twitched. "I feel like that rule isn't directed at me."

"It is," he said, deadpan. "You're clearly the more dangerous one here."

"Obviously."

"Rule number two…" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Absolutely no farting."

Ava let out a soft snort-laugh, which only made Fred point triumphantly.

"Which brings us to rule number three," he continued. "Snorting is highly encouraged. In fact, it's now considered an official form of flirtation."

Ava rolled her eyes. "You're insufferable."

"Rule number four: insults are fine… endearing, even… as long as they're creative. You call me a baboon again, though, I might cry."

"I said like a baboon," she corrected. "There's a difference."

"Still stings," he said, mock wounded. "And finally–" He looked over at her, his grin softening just a little. "Rule number five: if either of us has a bad dream or gets cold, we're allowed to scoot closer. No questions asked."

Her smile faded into something quieter, more genuine. "That's… actually a good rule."

"Of course it is. I wrote the list myself." He gave her a tiny nudge with his elbow, then pulled the blanket a little higher over her shoulder.

Ava nestled into the warmth between them, her body still humming with adrenaline from the day, but her heart settling.

"You're kind of sweet for someone who makes fart jokes," she whispered.

"Don't ruin my street cred," he whispered back.

Their laughter faded into quiet as the Great Hall dimmed around them, and Ava closed her eyes to the sound of Fred's breathing, steady and close beside her.

"Hey, Fred?" Ava whispered.

He blinked lazily. "Hmm?"

"Thank you," she said softly.

Fred turned his head on the pillow, looking at her through the flickering light. "You already said that, y'know."

"I know," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I mean it. Not just for today but for… everything. For always showing up. For looking out for me. I know I don't always make that easy."

His smile faded into something softer. "You don't have to make it easy," he said, his voice low. "You just have to let someone try."

Ava stared at him, the weight of his words settling in her chest. The ache that was there from confusion, from fear, from all the things she hadn't sorted out tugged a little deeper.

"You're a really good friend, Fred."

The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

She saw it, the flicker in his eyes. The way his smile faltered for just a breath. He looked away, onto his back, folding his arms behind his head.

"Yeah," he said after a moment. "A good friend."

Ava lay still, eyes fixed on the softly glowing lanterns above, her heart twisting uncomfortably in her chest. That wasn't what she'd meant. Or maybe it was. Maybe it was just easier to fall back on the safety of a friend. To pretend the feeling blooming in her chest was nothing more than warmth and gratitude. To pretend her pulse didn't skip when he smiled, or that his touch didn't make something inside her ache in a way she wasn't sure how to name.

The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of everything unsaid.

A soft breeze crept through the hall, winding between the sleeping students and slipping beneath the blanket. Ava shivered as it kissed her bare shoulders, curling her arms tighter around herself. The chill was sharp, not just from the cold, but from the way that one word, friend, had settled like a barrier between them.

And then, without a word, Fred moved.

He shifted slightly, just enough to raise one arm, the quietest invitation as if he felt it too. As if he was reaching out without expectation, just… offering.

She hesitated for only a moment.

Then she moved.

Slowly, carefully, she slid closer, resting her head against the curve of his shoulder. Her hand found the space across his chest, settling gently there. She half-expected him to pull away.

But instead, he let out a soft breath and curled his arm around her, his hand settling at the small of her back. His other hand found its way to her hair, brushing through it with the lightest touch.

Her eyes fluttered closed. Wrapped in him, in warmth and quiet, and everything he wasn't saying, Ava exhaled. She still didn't know what any of this meant. Not really. But as her fingers curled gently against the fabric of his shirt she felt his thumb tracing slow circles over her spine…

She knew she didn't want to move. And she knew, without question, that he didn't want her to either.