𝔸𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖

─────────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ─────────

        November 27th, 1963

        Back in July, Rosamund and Thomas didn't truly think you would become so close with the Prewett twins, but they thought Fabian and Gideon would be a good start for you. You, who had always been such a serious and quiet baby and toddler, would be thrown into a fun day with the twins, who loved causing mischief and playing outside until day turned into night. 

        Imagine their surprise when they stepped through the back door and saw the three of you sitting still under that tree, calmly whispering and giggling with each other. Irene, the twin's mother, made the joke that Thomas and Rosamund's plan had the opposite effect: instead of her twins getting you out of your peaceful shell, you drew her twins inside it. 

        Since that summer day, the twins came over several times a week, and when they couldn't, they'd write you letters about their day instead.

        When September came, and Molly went back to Hogwarts, their visits increased tenfold, which turned into several sleepovers. There were several points in time when Irene and her husband, Charles, had to pick Fabian and Gideon up, who'd end up kicking and screaming when their parents tried to tell them that they were spending too much time at your house. 

        "Gideon, please." An exhausted Charles begs.

        For once, only one of the two twins was throwing a fit over taking a break from the constant sleepovers. This might have been related to the fact that Fabian was sleeping deeply in Irene's arms, but that was beside the point. 

        When he finally wrangled Gideon over his shoulder, a firm hand keeping the wiggling boy in place, Charles sighed. You tried not to—honestly, you did—but seeing how tiring the twins could be, you giggled when Charles muttered, "I'm getting too old for this."

        With his free hand, Charles ruffles your hair with a fond look in his eyes."Y'know, Arden, Gideon and Fabian are only mellow when you're around. One of these days you'll have to share your secrets."  

        "But I don't do anything." You comment with a confused expression, tilting your head and pretending not to hear Charles when he murmurs how great it'd be to have another daughter—

        It didn't go over your head that Fabian and Gideon have mischievous and rambunctious tendencies, but you never thought they were too bad, and they took it upon themselves to relax at your level. Hearing his remark made you wonder how wild the twins were at home. 

        "I can hear you," Gideon grumbles to his father like it's a promise of how good (or bad) his behavior will be when they get back to their house. With another sigh, Charles pats your head, says goodbye, and walks with Irene toward your living room fireplace.

        Just before Charles turns around again, Gideon props his head up and flashes you his award-winning smile, yelling into his dad's ears (probably on purpose) how it won't be much longer until he and Fabian come back. 

─────────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ─────────

        January 18th, 1964

        For a while, you used every second to yourself you had trying to remember. 

        Gideon and Fabian had been a part of your life for the better part of six months, but you barely recall reading about them. At most, you remember them being mentioned in passing. You don't even remember who originally told Harry about them, just that they informed him that the twins were killed by five death eaters for their roles in the original Order of the Phoenix. It was a miracle you could recall Antonin Dolohov being one of their murderers, but that was all you could muster. 

        Using your logic, you predicted you'd have a good amount of years to figure it out. If they were a part of the order, the twins would have had to be seventeen or eighteen at the very least.

        When you first learned who exactly Fabian and Gideon were, you had the mind that maybe... Just maybe... You could stop their deaths. They'd live on as much more than a memory, a mere mention as some of the order who died in the first war, if you could help them survive somehow. Short of sticking to them like glue, you weren't sure how you'd go about it. It made you wish, ever so desperately, that you could just pick up the book or do a quick Google of their names. A brief search would hopefully tell you all you needed to know. As it was, all you had was your weakened memory. 

        If only you could recall when the attack happened. That'd be a start, at least.

        There was a part of you that started thinking maybe their deaths were meant to happen. That you couldn't change it. Perhaps it was necessary to turn Molly into the overbearing mother (and mother figure to Harry) she was because she already experienced the deaths of two loved ones. But if that were the case, why the hell did they have to meet you? If you'd been set up with any other child, or children, there'd have been a small likelihood you'd know more about them, or even better, you'd know they survived the war. 

        It had to be Molly Weasley's two twin brothers that remind you so much of your favorite Weasleys, Fred and George. Their mischief, penchant for speaking in unison, and close bond reminded you so much of the second set of twins, but more than that...

        You know Gideon and Fabian. You care for them, and they adore having you as a friend, even if they do have three years on you. You know them for their sweetness, how much they miss Molly during the school year, the caring nature they both exude in different ways and how they roughhouse with each other but make great effort to treat you like a porcelain doll. 

        With a sigh, you turn over in your bed to look at Gideon and Fabian, who are fast asleep in the bunk beds Thomas conjured for them. They're so small, so young, you're sure they have all sorts of crazy dreams for when they're older. Chubby cheeks, innocent eyes, warm and playful personalities.

        It pains your heart to know where their futures lie.

        Not long enough to know all of their nephews and niece. At the very latest, Ron and Ginny would have been babies, Fred and George mere toddlers. You wonder how well Bill, Charlie, and Percy remember their maternal uncles, if at all. The thought alone brings tears to your eyes, and you try to sniffle quietly so as not to wake the twins. 

        However, Fabian, the more sensitive and gentle of the pair, wakes up just as you wipe your eyes. It's as if he felt it in his core when your pain was released, like he had a radar just for moments like these. Surely, he can't even see your wet face, your red and puffy eyes, but he still makes for your bed faster than you can react. You're about to ask if he needs something, but Fabian distracts you when he sits on the edge of your bed and runs his fingers through your hair. 

        "Did you have a nightmare, Ardie?" He whispers calmly, speaking just loud enough for you to hear so as not to wake his brother. He doesn't wait for you to respond when he tries to comfort you, soothing you with head rubs and his kind smile. "It's okay. I get them, too. But you know what?" 

        You don't say anything, electing only to look up at Fabian with curious eyes. 

        "Gideon's always right there when I'm too scared to go back to sleep." Fabian climbs into your bed and stretches out his arms, ushering you into a hug. "He never minds when I wake him because he knows I'd do the same. It's what family does." 

        "Family..." You whisper, deep in thought as you once again mull over how much pain will come to him, Gideon, and Molly one day. 

        "I know you think you're too big to ask for a hug, or to wake us up when you're scared or hurting, but you're family too, Ardie. You're like our little sister, did you know?" Fabian murmurs, hugging you tight in his thin arms. "No matter what, Gid and I will always be there for you." 

        You can't help yourself when more tears come cascading down, and when you ask Fabian if he'll stay until you fall asleep, he responds by pulling the comforter over the two of you. 

        As you fall asleep, your eyes grow heavy and your vision becomes blurry. A singular thought repeats in your head. It's persistent, but you don't argue against it.

        You may not know when they get attacked in the far future or how it transpires, but...

        'There's no other way. Someway, somehow... I'll change it... I'll do everything in my power to alter time.'

─────────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ─────────

        April 11th, 1966

        Given that you were their first and only child, it was understandable Rosamund and Thomas didn't let you go to the Prewett's house until you were almost 6. It wasn't that they didn't trust Irene and Charles to take care of you, or that the twins would get too rambunctious that they'd accidentally hurt you, but your parents were just that type. Overthinkers who'd constantly fret and intrusively think that the second you were out of their eyesight, something would go wrong. 

        That being said, even you were excited about your first go-away sleepover. 

        The Prewett's house was much nicer than you'd ever thought. You assumed because of how poor the Weasleys were depicted that the family would have been a middle-class family at the very most, but you were proven wrong with a single glance.

        It was a three-story home, and for a moment, you were distracted just looking at it from the outside. You couldn't help the thought that Molly was inspired by her childhood home, mentally picturing The Burrow from your memories. Docked at the seaside, the modern flat-roofed home sat on concrete stilts, or beams, with wide windows flooding light inside. With all the possible views, you wondered if Irene and Charles charmed them to hide any ongoing magic from any muggles passing by. 

        "Come on, Ardie!" Fabian enthusiastically chattered, grabbing one of your hands and guiding you inside while Gideon grabbed the other. "Mum and Dad said you can sleep in Molly's room!" 

        "You know what that means?" Gideon grinned. 

        You shook your head in response. You'd learned that in this life, you preferred silence and typically spoke only when spoken to, tired of the astonished looks you'd get when you revealed your eloquent tongue. You were almost six years old, old enough to go to school (if you were a muggle), and people still got flabbergasted to hear you speak so well. 

        "We have an excuse to play in her room now!" Gideon's grin grew toothy and naughty once Irene and Charles were out of hearing range. 

        "I'm sure we can play in your room just fine." You offer, trying to keep your friends out of trouble.

        It was something you were used to by now. Sure, the twins were careful with you when you were younger, probably worried about your fragility. But the older you got and the more you grew, the more often one or both twins would try to bring you into one of their shenanigans. It typically ended with them getting caught and grounded, or, the few times they'd listen to you, the twins would whine and gripe about how much fun it could have been. 

        Fun, maybe. Troublesome? Undoubtedly. Would you have it any other way? Definitely not. 

─────────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ─────────

        December 27th, 1966

        Surprisingly, you didn't meet Molly until today.

        Typically, the twins stayed home when Molly was off of school, taking extra time to enjoy her presence, but now that you were permitted to come over, they could finally have you and Molly in the same place at the same time. 

        You'd heard plenty about her from the twins, and right after greeting each other, Molly told you how much Gideon and Fabian talked about you. She had always wished for a little sister growing up, and as much as she loved the twins, they were far from the baby sister Molly always dreamed about. That being said, Molly always enjoyed hearing about you, her brother's new friend, an adorable and brilliant little girl. 

        She's 17 now, and as you see her for the first time, you're wondering if she and Arthur have planned on eloping once they finish their seventh year at Hogwarts yet. 

        Despite Fabian and Gideon's don't-do-it looks and gaping jaws, you can't help it when you ask, "How are things going with Arthur?" 

        You watch with avid fondness as Molly slowly turns to her brothers, who are quick to don adorable smiles, and force a laugh as Molly chases them down the hallway, threatening to maim or kill them before their next birthday. 

        Despite those illicit descriptions of murder, you can feel the love in droves.

        How much of Molly died when her brothers did? How did she feel when she looked at her own pair of twins, Fred and George— and did it take a long time before she stopped seeing them as Fabian and Gideon, or did she never stop? 

─────────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ─────────

        August 2nd, 1967

        Having spent the last four or so years with two best friends you made from a successful playdate, you were woefully unprepared when your mother brought up new prospects. 

        "Arden, love, what do you think about meeting a new friend?" Your mother, Rosamund, asks out of the blue one day. 

        It's not an exaggeration to say you're flabbergasted when she brings it up. One moment, you were practicing your spelling and reading while Rosamund observed at the dining room table, and the next, she dropped a bombshell on you. 

        "What's wrong with Gid and Fabie?" You ask, intentionally referring to your best friends with affectionate nicknames (hit her where it hurts).

        You knew you were an adorable child. With fair skin, dark wavy hair, and big and round bright blue eyes, shaped like Rosamund's and colored like Thomas', you were the cutest thing—a perfect fifty-fifty of your parent's features. With an expression as simple as widening your blues and pouting your lips, it usually proved difficult for Thomas and Rosamund to be firm. Most days, it even served as a perfect ticket to get out of whatever your parents were trying to talk you into. 

        Unfortunately, as it was, your mother was a force to be reckoned with, even on her worst days—and currently, it was just the two of you at home. On the norm, Thomas typically couldn't fight your pleading gazes and would flock to your side, eventually persuading Rosamund to give up. Lately, however, your father started working at a nearby muggle shop and was normally gone during the day. 

        "Nothing whatsoever." Your mother smiles. She loves how close you are with Fabian and Gideon, ever since that first playdate. She's so enamored by it that she almost forgets the entire point of this conversation was to broaden your small world with more people. "But you know, Gideon and Fabian start school next fall, and they'll be gone until the end of June." 

        "...I know. But can't I just write them? Plus, they'll be home for Christmas." 

        You were well aware you'd make more friends one day, but right now, you were terrified at the mere idea. Knowing the ill-fated future of Fabian and Gideon, who were so important to you, was horrendous enough of a thought. What if the next person you met was Alice Longbottom—Lily, James, or Sirius? You were one person, how much longer would it be until you went haywire, going insane just trying to brainstorm ways you could possibly save them? 

        Meanwhile, Rosamund internally curses—as far as she was concerned, you inherited her stubbornness and Thomas' persistence. That part of your growing personality alone made you your own force to be reckoned with. When she thought about the year you'd turn eleven, Rosamund simultaneously shuddered and smirked at the thought of how you'd handle other students and how much of a bold force you'd be amongst the staff.

        In moments like this, however, Rosamund often wishes you were easier to convince of things. 

        "Well, yes, but—well—they'll be extremely preoccupied. I'm sure both Gideon and Fabian will write you as often as they can, but they'll be busy with their class schedules, homework, and all sorts of things." She says, trying to let you down easy. In her mind, if Rosamund mentioned the twins making new friends, she pictured you getting hurt, assuming you'd feel as if you were getting replaced. 

        You were well aware that they'd be gone for the year starting next fall, and as sad as it made you, you were excited for the twins. On one side, you were sure you'd be fine without them, but at the same time... You couldn't deny how accustomed you were to their constant presence. At the very least, you were sure your days would be increasingly boring and lonely during the school year. 

        You had one question to ask yourself before giving Rosamund an honest answer. Could you power through the possibility of befriending someone you knew would meet an early end? 

─────────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ─────────