prospicere futurum

Fred took the final step into the common room, rubbing his eyes carelessly as he slung his bag over his shoulder before his eyes found her. She was in the same arm chair he'd found her in two days before, before the quidditch match, and like that day, if she had heard him enter the room, she didn't show it.

"Morning." He muttered, his eyes stuck to her as she finally turned to face him.

"Hi." Her voice was soft, and slightly hoarse, as if he might be the first person she'd spoken to so far today.

"You okay?"

"Fine." She answered, though Fred was sure it was a lie. He could see the way she winced against the sun rising over the windows of the tower.

"You coming to class?"

"No," She practically whispered, sliding two fingers over her forehead. "Have a headache."

Fred could practically feel his stomach clench as he watched her fingers press into the skin along her temples, the skin around her nail beds red, the edges of each nail practically chewed away.

"Have you eaten?" He offered, taking another step closer to her near the empty fireplace.

She shrugged. "Ella brought me some eggs... toast..." She nodded towards the half eaten plate on the coffee table.

"Alright..." Fred nodded, though she was no longer facing him, her head propped against her knee in what had to be the world's most uncomfortable position, though she looked quite content. "Don't have too much fun up here, okay?"

Without another word, he was through the portrait door and headed down the stairs, class long forgotten. Maybe she needed something healthy, some protein or some water or even a coffee, but knowing Ella, she had surely tried all of that already.

So Fred slowed at the third floor, spinning around the staircase and starting towards the familiar statue he and George had discovered so long ago now. He tapped the stone just once with his wand, muttering the spell, "Dissendium," and pausing only long enough for the dark entrance to appear before dropping down onto the dusty path.

It had taken him less than forty-five minutes to get to Hogsmeade and back, a bag of chocolate grasped in one hand, and honestly, the hardest part had been trying to convince the shop owner that he and George had graduated last year and were no longer in school.

His legs were practically aching by the time he reached the portrait hole once again, ignoring the Fat Lady's reprimanding sneer and scurrying inside. He had briefly wondered if she wouldn't have gone back up to bed in the time he'd been away, letting out a short sigh of relief when he spotted the messy blonde still in the same spot in the common room.

Her eyes flickered to his as the door slammed behind him.

"You're back." She mumbled.

"Very observant." He teased, not letting himself read into the tug at the corner of her lip that might have almost been a smile. "How you feeling?"

"The same."

"Did you take any medicine? I can go ask Pomfrey-"

"No." She bit back, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I'll be fine."

"Hmm..." He mused, dropping into the worn couch beside hers with a long sigh. "Well, that's a shame... because I went through all the trouble to find you these, and now you don't even need them?" He shrugged, tossing the honeydukes bag onto the coffee table, watching her eyebrows furrow before looking back to him.

"How... You went to Honeydukes? Just now?"

"Maybe."

"We haven't had a Hogsmeade trip yet this year..." She continued, and he forced back the smile threatening to spill over as he watched her mind race.

Fred held up his arms innocently.

"You snuck out? And back, already?" She glanced at her watch before he reached forward again, pulling the various candies from the bag and spreading them over the table before her.

"How about you stop playing detective, and start appreciating my gift?" He tossed a small pack of the familiar strawberry chocoballs onto her lap, his breath trapped in his lungs as he watched her eyes widen for only a moment before she began to untwist the wrapper, popping one of the candies into her mouth.

"You know..." She muttered once she'd swallowed, "There might be some perks to being your friend after all, Weasley."

"Some?"

"Or, one." She clarified and he chuckled, grabbing a chocolate frog from the pile between them.

"I'll take it."

Silence settled between the two for a bit as Charlotte worked her way through one too many chocoballs, her headache already fading from her mind as Fred flipped the chocolate frog card over in his hands before tossing it onto the table again.

"How was your match?" She asked, breaking the silence and pulling Fred's gaze to hers once again. "Saturday."

"Went well... Yeah, we won." He answered, scanning over her face carefully for any signs of sadness at the thought of the Hufflepuff quidditch team. "It was good to play again. Missed it."

"I'm sorry I couldn't go- didn't go..." She said, quietly, and Fred's mouth fell open slightly, his eyebrows drawing together as he watched her gaze trail along the hem of her pajamas.

"You don't have to do anything that you don't want to, Corinne." He answered, watching closely as she nodded just twice, still not meeting his eye. "Can I ask you something?"

She paused, as if considering the question, which Fred wasn't sure he could blame her for. Especially after last year, and how he'd started off this one.

"Yeah." She mumbled.

"How long has it been since you slept?"

She met his eyes now, her chest rising and falling twice before she shrugged, as if that was an adequate answer to his question. He didn't speak again, hoping she might offer up more.

"It was all I wanted to do... at first... All Summer. I spent the whole first week in bed. Maybe two..." Her voice was a mixture of a sigh and real words. "It's just not really worth it anymore."

"Not worth it?" Fred echoed in confusion, watching as her face fell once again to the now frayed hem of her pants.

"The first few seconds when I wake up... When everything is fine, everything is good. Before I remember..." She trailed off, and Fred didn't need her to finish. It was like a punch to the gut. Her admission that she re-lived Cedric's death all over again every day, if not in her nightmares, then in the mornings.

"What do you do then?" He asked finally, thankful when the blue eyes met his again.

"What do you mean?"

"All night. If you're not sleeping."

"Oh... homework, sometimes. Or I'll come down here... Sit by the fire, or walk around until I get tired... I don't want to wake the girls up."

"You come down here by yourself?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Well... assuming there aren't any more escaped death eaters on the loose trying to break into the school, I should think I'll be fine?"

"That's not... what I meant..." He stammered, his mind flickering between the Corinne before him and the image of her pacing around the common room in the dark, lonely and exhausted... "You don't read much anymore." He mentioned; an observation, not a question.

She considered his words for a second and then shrugged, "Sometimes."

"What's the last thing you read?"

She didn't bother to think. She hadn't read anything aside from textbooks all year... All summer... Honestly, since before...

"Exactly." Fred answered, half a smirk pulling to his lips. "Your brain will turn to mush."

"Oh, right. Coming from you, who likely read the first book in your life just last year-" She trailed off, her mind flashing to that day, months ago, Fred's small smile as he disappeared up the staircase, her book on the table, the scribbled note and the markings along every chapter...

It was clear Fred's mind had gone to the same place, though he looked more scared than uncomfortable as he waited for her to speak again.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" He asked, finally deciding to change the subject away from one where he might get yelled at.

"I'm not sure anymore." Corinne huffed, though Fred took her answer as a yes.

"When you do sleep..." He watched her face closely, "Do you... Do you sleep okay?"

Her face stilled, just as he had suspected it would, and he mentally cursed himself for bring it up. For pushing it too far.

"What did Ella say?" She answered at last, his mouth falling open as he scrambled for a response. "Or was it Taylor?"

"What?" He forced on a confused smile.

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Corrine, you just..." He paused, "You just seem really tired... And I'm worried about you."

"Oh, great... well, evidently, there's a line. You can all start a club." She grumbled, climbing from the chair she'd occupied for the past hours.

"Baker, come on, don't go-"

"I'm just going to... lay down... You know, headache and since everyone is so worried about my sleep."

"I'd really like if you stayed!" He called after her, jumping from the couch and huffing out a sigh as she ignored him, starting up the stairs and out of sight, leaving him with far too much candy than he knew what to do with.

✵

She had tried to sleep. She truly had. But after nearly an hour of tossing and turning in the overly bright dormitory, she finally gave in, tossing the blankets from her legs and storming to the end of the bed, pulling open her trunk and feeling around until her fingers brushed over the familiar worn material.

She hadn't looked at the book all summer. Hadn't even thought to, and yet it had still found it's way into her trunk as she scrambled to pack the day before term, despite the fact that it had been crumpled slightly beneath dozens of sweaters and books.

She fell back onto the bed, holding the book in her lap for a few seconds before flipping over the cover. Her fingers traced over the scrap of parchment there, her gaze stuck to the sight of her middle name, scrawled messily at the center of the note before she plucked it from the page and tossed it carelessly over her shoulder, not bothering to check where it fluttered off to.

She flipped to the first page and leaned back against her pillow on the headboard, propping her legs up and settling into the familiar book.

"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.

She read quickly, from habit, her mind already jumping to the next scene each time she finished a page. She had finished the first chapter and most of the second before she came upon the first marks of black ink, a half sentenced underlined with a thin quill mark.

When you feel discontented, think over your blessings and be grateful...

And a few sentences below, So they agreed to stop complaining, to enjoy the blessings already possessed, and try to deserve them, lest they should be taken away entirely, instead of increased...

Corinne sat still for only a moment, letting the words echo through her mind, her gaze drifting towards the window as she took in the silence of the room around her. She glanced down at the book once again, flipping one page at a time now, scanning over the white pages until she spotted the next ink marks again. She recognized the familiar sentences, the notes from last Spring, skipping over page by page until she reached new anecdotes.

I'm afraid I couldn't like him without a spice of human naughtiness.

Corinne scoffed, pushing the image of Fred's smirking face from her mind.

She was one of those happily created beings who please without effort, make friends everywhere, and take life so gracefully and easily that less fortunate souls are tempted to believe that such are born under a lucky star.

Flipping the page quickly, she scanned over the next paragraph without truly paying attention. She tried to think back on the last year, her chest aching slightly at the memories. She supposed she was happy last year, even before Cedric... She thought over her classmates, her friends... Pushing the thought from her mind that all of that had changed now. No one would describe her this way now. Happy, friendly, carefree...

The book shut in her lap with a loud snap before she had even noticed, and she let out a long sigh before dropping the worn copy into the empty drawer of her nightstand.

...take life so gracefully and easily...

She glanced once more at the watch hanging from her wrist. It was almost four, and the girls would be back anytime now from classes, and she still had not decided if she was going to ask them. If she had been keeping them up every night with nightmares... if they noticed her sneak out most nights from the pitch black dorm... if they had truly felt the need to share all of this with Fred Weasley?