Chapter 9
"See, it's not so bad!" Rebecca hope her cheer would catch onto Emmet. "Right?"
Emmet looked down the hall at all of the coats of armour that glistened in the evening torch light. "Not that bad?" He laughed and shook his head, returning to the task at hand. "It could be worse, I guess!"
Rebecca slapped him on the back before picking up her bucket and rags to continue down her side of the corridor. McGonagall had given the two of them a scolding for the ages, "Never have I been so disappointed in the leading astray of the young...I don't even want to know how many countless hours you took away from your studies..." Et cetera. In the end, Rebecca and Emmet had been sentenced to two weeks of evening armour polishing.
The exhilaration of their escapade was relived with each detention: the oil reacted with inanimate objects exactly as it had with the human trial--loudly. The castle's breakfast Monday morning had been abruptly interrupted as Rebecca and Emmer ran up and down the halls, touching the Operatic Oil somewhere differently on each suit.
By the time Filch had found all of the spots, the castle had been hearing opera in one way or another for hours. And, just as Rebecca had thought, Emmet became the talk of the first years. He hadn't sat alone at a meal in the week since, and he was never alone in the common room either. The prank had been exactly what he needed, to be noticed.
Hermione refused to believe that Rebecca's goals had been only philanthropic, but she hadn't made too big of an issue over it. All three girls, Hermione, Rebecca, and Ginny, were too busy fuming at Lavender's sudden pursuit of Ron to consider fighting amongst themselves.
Just as Hermione wouldn't believe that Emmet had been the only reason Rebecca had played such a prank, Rebecca wouldn't believe that Hermione's hatred of the newly-forming coupling between Ron and Lavender was solely for the solidarity Hermione claimed.
"Lavender's been a monster, especially to you! As you're my friend, it's my job to be angry--on your behalf!" Hermione had tried, but Rebecca continued to roll her eyes each and every time she had to hear the excuse.
But that was in September, back when things were simple.
*******************************************
September 12, 1996
Rebecca,
I cannot believe you didn't tell me what you had sent back so I could tell you how brilliant you are with my lips! Not like talking lips, but-You get it. Pretend that was so much cooler than it was.
But, back to you, this is wicked! George is especially impressed by how you used the Whistle-Blossom seeds in the recipe, but I'm not. I know nothing keeps you from getting an idea off the paper.
Have a laugh with the picture--it's our new and improved poster out front. (And don't worry, it's all in good fun and that's exactly what a joke shop needs to be.)
Any word when the first Hogsmeade trip will be?
Love,
Fred
(Attached was a photo of George and Cedric on either side of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes sign that now said, 'Why are you worrying about You-Know-Who? You should be worrying about U-No-Poo--The constipation sensation that's gripping the nation!')
*******************************************
September 14, 1996
Fred,
I didn't tell you for two reasons: one, I knew you wouldn't be able to convince George to try it if you knew what it would do because you'd laugh and scare him away. Two, I knew exactly how you would want to 'celebrate my brilliance.'
I will worry about what I want to, especially when it comes to you lot. But for the poster, that's bloody hilarious.
I've got something big planned, something you two would approve of entirely. I'll send word on its success.
No word on Hogsmeade yet. I think Dumbledore's having trouble coordinating with security. You haven't heard anything about Snuffles and Moony, have you?"
Love,
RJ
*******************************************
September 17, 1996
RJ,
Snuffles and Moony are on holiday still. They should be returning any day now though.
I take it since I haven't heard from you that your 'plan' has landed you into detention. I'm so proud. Make sure McGonagall doesn't miss the three of us troublemakers--though I bet you're making up the difference.
Your Fred
*******************************************
September 20, 1996
Darling,
Yeah...about that detention...Turns out, Operatic Oil on every coat of armour on the fourth floor lands you two weeks of nightly polishing. I wasn't entirely along though, I let a first year tag along. They seem so much smaller this year and there are even fewer than the last group. This one really needed the prank though--social opportunity and all that rubbish.
I think it's safe to say that McGonagall isn't missing the three of us together. I've been compensating well.
First Hogsmeade weekend is set for the second weekend of November, will you be able to make it?
Your love
*******************************************
September 25, 1996
Love,
I wouldn't miss it for the world.
Ignore the Prophet's report today--it wasn't as bad as they made it seem and the shop is completely fine. We're fine, all of us. George isn't happy about the loss of business, but we've updated closing so that the shop is empty before dark.
Florean's is nearly leveled though. He's been hiding for months now, but it was still a shock to be eating lunch when the street was attacked. I've attached a cut out of everything you need to know so you don't have to rush to find a copy or try and take it from Hermione while she's reading it--I wouldn't want you to risk your life like that.
Second weekend of November is entirely empty, I will be there every second I can.
Your darling
(Attached was a torn out copy of the Daily Prophet's article on the most recent attack in Diagon Alley, a photo alongside it that showed flames crawling out of the shattered storefront of Florean's while witches and wizards ran for cover in the foreground.)
*******************************************
September 26, 1996
What the hell! An attack in Diagon Alley? That's awfully bold, especially in the middle of the day. I know you already said, but I still have to ask: are you all safe?
I think that closing earlier is very smart. Safer for customers and safer for you lot.
Is Cedric traveling to and from each night of had he finally moved in with George? If he's traveling, ask him to apparate. There are rumours going around here that they've found ways to snatch you straight out of the Floo network.
I know rumours aren't facts, but rumours have to start somewhere and it's better to be safe than sorry.
I can't wait to see you. Quidditch is wearing me into to the ground. Between homework, making sure Harry isn't besting me in Potions, trying to work on ideas for the shop (speaking of, eat one of these sweets), I'm buggered.
I will admit that I've taken to flipping through old letters of ours. I have to keep reminding myself that Hogsmeade is coming, Hogsmeade is coming...
Yours
(Attached was the solution to a problem George had sent along. He had wanted something that would make the ears of the eater grow momentarily and couldn't narrow the effects down to such a localised area--a solution Rebecca found after tirelessly testing over thirty different ration combinations.)
*******************************************
October 09, 1996
Rebecca,
You had better be doing your homework and letting Harry lead quidditch practises. There's no way you could possibly understand the inversions of such a complex, man's sport.
Remain on your best behaviour, no trouble whatsoever.
Frederick
P.S. Wear a scarf, it's set to snow soon. I love you, always.
*******************************************
"Rebecca?" Harry reached across the table and set a muffin on her plate. Potions was set to start soon and she had hardly sipped her tea, let alone prepared her breakfast. "Read later."
Rebecca shook her head, her eyes flying over the paper once again. She couldn't understand what she was reading. "I think the mail has been compromised." Rebecca turned the letter she had finally gotten back from Fred so Hermione could read it too. "This is all wrong. Look, he even called himself 'Frederick.'"
Hermione pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at the quidditch statement. "Obviously it's the opposite. 'Man's sport.'"
"He didn't say anything about Sn-"
"No." Rebecca looked up and down the table. "Later, Harry. Not here."
Harry nodded. He knew she was right. "You left this up in our room yesterday, by the way." Harry dug around in his bag, having to lift it up onto the bench to find Rebecca's book. She had gone up to their dorm to ask Neville a few questions about some herbology-related terms and forgotten the book that had raised them at all. "Is this another thing for-"
"Later." Rebecca took the book quickly and ignored the fact that Hermione was staring at her now too.
*******************************************
"It's bloody well 'later!'" Harry shouted, crossing his arms and blocking the girls' stairs before Rebecca could even consider making her way up them. She had only entered the common room moments before, arms full of books. "Sit. Room's been cleared and charmed for privacy. Explain." Harry fumed and jerked his head to where Ron had his head back and was dozing between a talking-quietly Hermione and Ginny.
"Watch your tone." Rebecca warned with a yawn. "I was trying to find everything I needed to try and explain, and they weren't all exactly available for borrowing."
Ron woke up when Harry took a seat next to him, immediately muttering something about not having been asleep. "Look who showed up. About bloody time!"
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "You're a little late to that party, you-"
"We'll argue about that later." Ginny stopped before the two of them could go any farther. "What is going on, Rebecca?"
"I've been working on some research, but now that the mail is gone..." Rebecca sighed. "Now that things are really starting to get bad, I think it's time."
"It was time as soon as you started!" Harry snapped, furious that she had carried on with whatever this was for however long without involving them.
"As I was saying," Rebecca continued over Harry. "The night Fred came to the tunnel, back in-"
"When who did what?" Hermione asked in shock.
Rebecca hurried through a rushed explanation. "Bad day, Ginny and Harry talked an agreed to write a letter, day better. Don't worry, Fred never technically entered the school." Rebecca shook her head. "But that's not the important part. On my way back, I heard some of the aurors talking. Talking about the centaurs."
"That's all anyone is doing nowadays." Ron laughed. "You should know, walking down to Hagrid's hut for creatures and all. You can hear them all day and night."
Rebecca shuffled through her stack of books, pulling out an astronomy text. "Exactly. One of the aurors, the boss I think, said that Dumbledore had been told the reason for the noise--the centaurs had read the stars and been told that 'a new hero would rise.'" Rebecca took a breath and looked to Harry pointedly. "And that their celebrations center around a tree."
Harry's hands tightened on his knees so hard his knuckles went white.
"What's so important about a tree?" Hermione demanded, laying a hand over Harry's. "I don't understand."
One of Rebecca's hands found its way to her locket, fiddling with it and trying to push thoughts away from Sirius and Remus' continued absence. "Over the summer...I kept having this dream. It wasn't like before, my head didn't hurt and nothing was happening. I don't think it was the future."
Ginny nodded, beginning to put pieces together. "You're talking about the clearing, aren't you? Why didn't you tell me that was still happening?"
"It hasn't. Not since Sirius and Rems put some enchantment on this, something that was meant to keep the outside, outside." Rebecca held her locket a little tighter.
"We're worried because she's dreaming about a tree?" Ron questioned. "Bloody hell, a tree? What-"
"It's not." Harry's voice was sharp, but tight. "It's not just a tree."
"It's the tree. Where I brought the unicorn back." Ron paled at Rebecca's words, that was one of his most haunting memories. "The centaurs believe that the Forbidden Forest is the place where life itself began--that thousands and thousands of years ago, the first centaur was formed out of the fallen branches of the oldest, wisest tree and was given life as a gift." Rebecca moved another book to the table, "Centaurion Stories: Life, Death, and What it all Means."
Hermione reached for it instantly, seeing that it was the largest book.
"Then, already knowing which tree they were talking about, I needed to figure out why." Rebecca laid another book down. "That's this one: Astronomy and Hooved-Beasts, Meaning and Reading the Stars. It's a little outdated, but the information is still there. When Mars' retrograde lines up with Saturn's, when Polaris is to its' sisters right, and when the moon is full, the centaur's predict that the 'bringer of ends' will arrive."
"The bringer of ends?" Ginny whispered before yanking the newest book off of the table.
"It doesn't sound pleasant, but it's not what I thought it was." Rebecca winced. "It's...erm...well, it's the person who brings...the end...to death..."
Harry's heart pounded in his ears and for a moment, he thought he might be sick. "Why hasn't anyone brought this up? Dumbledore, McGonagall, even Madam Pomfrey! If all of this was sitting down in the library, why weren't they looking?"
Rebecca shrugged. "I'm going to bet they didn't know and they haven't had time. Most of these books were in different variations of Centaurion tribal languages and it's not like the centaurs are treated as equals. Why would their beliefs be?"
Hermione opened the cover to her book and looked up confused. The words on the pages were rune-like, almost hieroglyphics. "How did you even read this?"
Rebecca reached into her pocket and pulled out a bag of brightly coloured sweets. "That's why this has taken so long. I had to solve that issue first." Rebecca set the bag on the table, the sweets tinkling as they poured over one another and settled. "Title-still-in-progress, but we've been working on a translating-sweet line. Originally, I just wanted to be able to write to Fleur in French without having to do the work. But after the French Fancies worked so well--letting the eater understand, speak, listen, write, and think in French while you suck on it--I had to find a way to make it work for basic Centaurion."
"And you've managed to do that?"
"Yeah, of course." Rebecca answered very Rebecca-like. "And that only leaves two more things. A Map of Hogwarts' Surrounding Areas and Commentary, which helped me plot the shortest course to the clearing." Ron took the little travel book happily, feeling like he had gotten the best of them since it was certainly the smallest.
Harry raised his hand to cut any chance of a forest-based expedition, but Rebecca silenced him with an icy wave of her hand.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Rebecca rolled her eyes. "We're not going yet so don't get your knickers in a twist. I need to fill Fred in and I can't do that until Hogsmeade. It doesn't matter anyway, the stars and planets aren't aligned until Spring, early May I think." Rebecca cleared her throat, very tired and very tired of talking. "But all that is only the background. I found something else, too. Something that someone had hidden a long time ago."
Rebecca brushed the cover off of the last book, patting the cover gently. "R.A.B, Regulus Arcturus Black. Sirius' younger brother, supposed Death Eater."
Harry had the book in his hand in seconds. "Supposed?"
"Supposed." Rebecca repeated. "It's all there, his diaries. Professor Slughorn needed some help clearing out a Slytherin memorandum closet and I found a bundle. I snuck it out in my robes and read have read through it twice now. That's why..." She closed her eyes and slipped her glasses off. She had thought herself into a dull throb behind her eyes. "I have to take my locket off after I talk to Fred. I have to see it again; I have to talk to the tree."
The found on the couch stared at her, not saying a word. All four were thinking variations of "the bloody hell you will."
"In there," Rebecca pointed to the journal Harry held tightly. "Regulus talks about how he had been forced to kill a Muggle to be initiated. He brought her back like I can, marked her too. He was the tree's choice. He was chosen as a hero." Rebecca stifled a yawn, the night had grown well past late. "But that's it. That's everything I've learnt. Read and talk it over and don't worry: I can't do anything yet. I promised I would update Fred and now that the mail's gone, nothing can happen until after Hogsmeade."
*******************************************
They spent the weeks before Hogsmeade swapping the books between them. Rebecca had to make more of the translating sweets three times before all four had read each book.
The consensus and prediction between them all--save Rebecca, who was blissfully unaware--was that Rebecca would tell Fred about it all and he would forbid her from taking the locket off.
Did they think it would cause a fight? Yes.
Did they care if it kept her safe? No.
Harry, after tearing through all the books Rebecca had compiled in her research, found himself reading the notes in his Potions book more and more. There were so many hints, so many tips and other magical quirks that he started diving into each and every one to see if it could help them.
"There's going to be something." Harry muttered.
"What're you going on about?" Ron asked sleepily, his head on his pillow and his arms folded behind it. "I was telling you about Lav's new-"
"Nothing." Harry reached over and turned the lamp off between them. He wanted to stay up and score the Half-Blood Prince's scrawling notes, but not if it meant having to listen to Ron gush over Brown longer. She had been rotten to Rebecca, rotten to him, but the final straw for Harry, she had been horrible to Rems.
Harry wouldn't stand for that, not when there had been no word on either Sirius or Remus since before they had left for Hogwarts.
If there was one thing harry was, it was protective of his family.
*******************************************
"I'm glad Hogsmeade is finally here!" Ron remarked loudly before lowering his voice so that only the four around him could hear. "You lot have been reading those bloody books so much, I feel like I'm going mad. I like a nice chat before bed, you know!"
Rebecca nudged Harry with a grin. "What're you doing, Harry? Failing in your roommate duties?"
"I don't only read, I just happen to be reading more right now." Harry defended with a smile.
Ginny waved ahead to where Dean and Seamus were waiting for her to join their separate group. "I want to know exactly what Fred says, alright?"
Rebecca nodded, but Ginny only went off once Rebecca had verbally promised. "I promise, alright? Get going!" She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck and higher so it covered anything not protected by her hat. Fred's last letter had proven true--it had snowed the very next week and stayed cold enough that it had stayed since. "It's bloody freezing out here." Rebecca grumbled as the wind picked up a notch.
"It's not that bad." Harry shrugged. His head was bare and the only coat he wore was his Weasley jumper. "Crisp."
Rebecca stared at Hermione and gestured at Harry, shaking her head in disbelief before moving ahead to go over the upcoming practise schedule with Ron.
"One thing I don't understand," Hermione began. "Is how you've walked around with that Potions book for weeks--practically drooling over it, mind you--and yet you don't have an inkling of curiosity over who's it was!"
"I didn't say I wasn't curious." Harry gave Hermione a face. "And I don't drool over it. We just have enough extra research right now without adding to it."
Hermione nodded, resigning her teasing for the moment. Harry was right, after all, and both couldn't help but feel their worries grabbing at them as they looked at Rebecca ahead. "She's been awfully forthright with it all. Have you noticed?"
"Forthright?" Harry didn't know what Hermione meant.
"Honest, truthful, bringing us any new information she finds." Hermione frowned. "It's a bit uncharacteristic, isn't it?"
Harry watched how Rebecca dragged Ron ahead to where Professor Slughorn had waved her over. "Maybe she's finally learnt it's better this way?" Hermione gave him a doubtful glance. "Yeah, yeah. I know. C'mon, I heard them say butterbeer."
Rebecca was talking quickly to Slughorn, her hands motioning excitedly as she spoke. "It worked exactly as I said it would, Professor! I've got one on me, somewhere here..." She reached and went through her pockets, talking through her process. "Here, bon appetit. Perfect French and, if I don't say so myself, an excellent after taste."
The clock chimed in Hogsmeade square, marking the hour.
"Damn!" Rebecca's head shot up, wincing. "Sorry professor! That would be me now late." She turned and walked away, only to have to return laughing. Rebecca had forgotten to give Professor Slughorn the French Fancy. "Blimey, I'm losing my head! I'll see you all later, supper maybe. It was nice chatting with you, professor!" Rebecca hurried back down the road, taking minimal caution at the slippery patches of ice at the idea of seeing Fred.
"'Chatting with?'" Slughorn chuckled and looked at the other three children Rebecca had left. "I didn't get a word in edgewise!"
As Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked the slow, careful gait of the Potions master, Rebecca greeted Aberforth warmly. The barkeep nodded his head and waved his wand so the snow left her boots before it could track in.
"The same spot." Aberforth gruffed, gesturing towards the back corner with the window.
Fred stood up at the sound of the door opening, just as he had twice already. The first time it had only been the wind, the second a witch who may have been older than Dumbledore. But at the third entrant, Fred broke into a smile. Rebecca buried her face into his neck as he wrapped his arms under hers. "Bloody hell, it's been too long." Fred murmured, turning his head into her hair. "Far, far too long."
Rebecca leaned back and laid her hand on her cheek so that she could kiss him, which she did for a long moment. Fred was the one to separate themselves, albeit reluctantly. He motioned for her to climb into the booth--their booth--and slid into the bench alongside her with one more quick kiss.
"First," Fred started, pulling out a little paper from his coat pocket. "George and Ced send the following. 'It's been too long, we miss you. You should drop out--it's not like you're busy of anything.'"
Fred's eyes drifted away from the note to watch Rebecca laugh. His breath hitched as the sound left her like a song, her hair falling away from her face as she tilted her head back slightly. If Fred had to pick a moment of time to be stuck in, he thought that he would pick right then. The white light shining in from the snow's reflection outside left her skin looking as if it had been carved out of marble, her scars more visible than ever in contrast.
It occured to Fred that he couldn't quite remember Rebecca without the hooked scar around her eye; he wasn't sure if he would want to if he could. It was alarmingly attractive. It made her look fierce. It showed the world what Fred already knew, that she wasn't going to be stopped by anything or anyone. The scar drove Fred mad for her.
"Is that all?" Rebecca prompted softly, concerned by how Fred had zoned out staring at her.
"No." Fred cleared his thoughts, saving them for later. "I have instructions to bring back details of all Hermione-Unapproved activities, too."
"I wouldn't want to disobey a direct order..." Rebecca slid her arms out of her coat and shed off the extra layers she could, ordering her antics before beginning to rattle them off. Fred's mouth hung open as the list of trouble he would repeat back to George grew and grew. "But that was last week! This week--let's see. First there was the Hufflepuff and the Colour-Comb. Still working on it, their skin went blue instead of their hair. Oh! I was also messing around with dung bombs." Rebecca pulled a face. "Risky task, in case you were wondering. I wanted one to follow whoever you use it on, dispersing more as they run away."
Fred raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And?"
"And, it'll require a few more rest runs." Rebecca smiled. "But it'll definitely be finished before the holidays."
"When do you have time to sleep?" Fred asked as he took her hand. Rebecca's eyes flashed with something, almost like she had tried to hide something. Fred chewed at his cheek, not able to let such an obvious tell go without question. "What is it?"
"It's a lot."
"I wouldn't expect anything less." Fred brought his other hand to hers and held her tightly. Rebecca had been rehearsing her explanation ever since she had told the others, using what had sent them off to change how she told Fred. The aurors and the conversation she had overheard, the centaurs' legends, Regulus' journal, and, finally, the 'hero's return.' Fred sat back slightly, still holding onto her. "I wasn't expecting that."
"So you see it too? Why I have to sleep without the locket?" Rebecca was glad that Fred had yet to let go of her. Recounting all of the mystery that had been laid out this year left her feeling small and alone, as if she were floating somewhere in the dark. But with him right beside her, she knew that couldn't be true. "I have to try and get back to the clearing."
"So you haven't already tried?"
Rebecca was taken back. "No, I haven't." She turned in her seat so that she was facing him more. "I told you I would keep you aware of what was going on before I did anything potentially-mental."
Fred heard how serious she was. "You really haven't?"
"I said I would-well, not ask. I'm not asking." Rebecca paused, trying to figure out how to say what she wanted to. "I wanted to make sure you knew before I did anything, I guess. The others...they think this is mad and that I shouldn't do anything besides pretend I never found anything." Rebecca shrugged. "I wanted to know what you thought, too."
Fred took her hands back in his and brought the backs of them up to his mouth, holding them against his lips a moment. "I'm sorry." He turned on the bench too, moving closer to her. "Really, I am. I should have-I shouldn't have assumed anything." Fred sighed, mulling over everything he had just heard. "I want to agree with them, believe me. I would love to pretend none of this had been said."
"But?"
"But I can't." Fred grew serious, very serious. "I think that you need to try without the locket once and, if that doesn't work, I think you need to go Dumbledore and layout what you've found--demand some answers."
"You not just trying to get me expelled so I can stay at the shop, are you?" Rebecca grew as serious as he was after her quip. "Thank you."
"For what, love?"
"For believing me." Rebecca tilted her head, reconsidering. "For believing in me."
Fred winked and brought a slight laugh out of both of them. "Want to get out of here?" Rebecca nodded and Fred grabbed her hat from where she had left it on the table. Once she had her coat on again, Fred bent down and put it on her head with the utmost of concentration--he poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he made it even and over the tops of her ears.
Aberforth grunted his farewell as the old witch continued talking about something or other.
Rebecca linked her arm through Fred. "I've got someone I'd like you to meet."
*******************************************
"Tonks?" Fred asked. "I know her already!"
"You." Tonks groaned at the sight of Fred before hugging each of them in turn. "Yes, I know you. Far more than I'd like to, if i'm honest."
"Let's not be honest then." Rebecca giggled. "He is right though. We weren't expecting to see you here."
Tonks grimaced. "The Order's agreed this was the only way we could get news to those of you at Hogwarts, mail as it is and all."
Rebecca's hand tightened around Fred's. "It's about them, isn't it?" Remus and Sirius were still missing to those in the castle.
Tonks held her wand up and mouthed a few spells. "Momentary privacy, you can't risk being seen with me for long anyway. Sirius and Remus got word out a few days ago. They're holed up somewhere in Eastern Russia. They had been called away to convince one of the nomadic packs of free-range wizards to our side and they...disagreed."
"But they're okay, right?" Rebecca's voice was strong, but there was a desperation behind it. A need for the answer.
"Of course they are." Tonks knew they were, just as she had known that there was no way Sirius or Rebecca would be stuck behind the arch in the Department of Mysteries. Some things were unendable. "A bunch of hippies aren't going to stop those two."
Fred turned his body slightly, speaking under his breath. "Laugh, now."
The two women laughed like he had just told the greatest joke, though anyone who knew Rebecca would have known just how false it was. "Tonks, we'll talk later. I'll get word to Rebecca the second we know anything else."
Tonks stepped away, the shadows of the onlookers who had been watching in the mouth of an adjacent alley scattering as quickly as they had formed. Fred and Rebecca continued on their way, uncomfortable with the feeling that even Hogsmeade had been darkened.
Inside the Three Broomsticks, Ron was moaning and groaning because Ginny was in the back with Seamus and Dean. The issue, as he repeatedly told Harry and Hermione, was that she and Anthony Goldstein were engaged in a snog rivaling precious little.
"That slick git." Ron spat, crossing his arms. "I'd like to leave."
Harry was too busy watching the back of Slughorn's head across the room to pay Ron any attention. The old man had accompanied them so far, but he stepped away to greet the man cleaning behind the bar before joining them for a drink and further conversation.
"That's absurd!" Hermione refuted.
"That happens to be my sister." Ron said angrily, as if that were reason enough to warrant going back out into the cold.
"Rebecca's been just as public with Fred." Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "What if she looked over here and saw you snogging me? Would you expect her to get up and leave?"
Ron glowered, his cheeks reddening horribly. He couldn't believe that Hermione had brought Rebecca into this, especially since he was taking it as an insinuation that Ron cared more for Ginny than Rebecca. "We're not talking about Rebecca, now are we?" Ron didn't care if that wasn't what she intended, that was how it could have been taken. "Fred--Merlin help me--is a good person, a good man. That wanker? Goldstein? He doesn't care for her. He doesn't-"
"My boy!" Professor Slughorn clapped Hermione on the shoulder and smiled warmly at Harry, interrupting Ron's monologue. "Thank you for excusing. Good chum of mine, that is. You know, go back a lot farther than I care to admit though. I actually taught is-"
The door to the pub was opened and caught by the galing wind, the loud bang causing all faces inside to turn towards the noise.
"I know, I know. We're startlingly attractive." Fred raised his hand to address the audience he and Rebecca found themselves in front of. "Her far more than me."
The pub laughed and returned to their previous conversations. The walk between Rebecca and Fred had been mostly spent in quiet, serious conversation and they had ended on the best note possible--it didn't matter what happened as long as they both knew that the other was okay.
"You brought me to meet a professor?" Fred hissed before putting on a grand smile and shaking Slughorn's reaching hand. There was no time for Rebecca to even answer, introductions having to be made. "Fred Weasley, sir. Pleasure to meet you." Fred stepped back to Rebecca's side, putting an arm around her shoulders. "I've heard a lot about you."
Professor Slughorn grinned deviously and glanced at Rebecca's sheepish expression. "You have? Pray tell, Mr Weasley, what exactly is my name." Fred blanked. "I'm only ribbing you! Pull up a chair, both of you! I was just telling Harry here about the Slug Club."
"You were, sir?" Harry looked up from his butterbeer confused.
"Yes." Slughorn smiled and looked over Harry and Rebecca both. "In the past, I used to throw together the occasional supper party for the select student or two. Would you two be game?"
Harry answered for them both, pleading with whatever cosmic forces existed that this would be the opportunity to ask about the information Slughorn had and Dumbledore needed. "We'd be honoured!"
Slughorn smiled as Rebecca nodded and he looked to Hermione. "You'd be welcome too, Granger."
Hermione was startled away from her studying of Fred and Rebecca, trying to figure out how the explanation had gone, but she was grateful all the same. "I'd be delighted!"
Slughorn clapped his hand. "Splendid! Look for my owl." He never even gave Ron a look, only sullying Ron's mood further.
Fred leaned back his chair so that it was on two legs to talk to Ron quietly behind Harry and Rebecca who were now being questioned by Hermione. "What are you two up to?"
"Dumbledore did ask us to get to know him." Rebecca reasoned, not aware that Harry was two steps ahead of her.
When Harry went to speak, Rebecca took a sip of Harry's drink so that he couldn't tell her not to. "It's one of those things we aren't allowed to know."
Fred returned his chair to its on-the-floor position next to Rebecca and smiled before pecking her cheek.
"How are you and the others?" Hermione asked quietly.
"They're all good." Fred thought that the pub was the best place for them to have this conversation, so many other people talking that it would have been near-impossible to discern their words out of the din of it all. "Mum's going absolutely mental being cooped up as they are. Dad's trying to keep her calm. George is just trying to convince Cedric to go with his mum to America to hide this all out-"
"He's what?" Rebecca turne dot Fred. "It's not because of..."
Fred nodded once. "There are rumours." Ron was dragged out of his mood however slightly to lean closer to Harry to try and hear better. "The Diggory's are facing hiding or surrendering to the Order for protection. Ced's return...it's no longer being called an accident--not by the other side."
Draco exited the toilet across the way and Fred's voice fell flat before trailing away. His arm tightened around Rebecca meaningfully, his eyes tearing through Draco. Draco didn't intend to stop, but his feet seemed to have been bolted to the floor. "Say the word and I'll do it."
Rebecca laid a hand on Fred's thigh, trying to keep him from doing anything rash. "I know you will." She kissed the bottom of his neck, causing him to look down at her. "But don't."
Hermione stared directly ahead, fighting the urge to turn around and see the terror undoubtedly spread across Malfoy's face. She lifted her butterbeer to her mouth, sipping at the warmth as she waited to hear the jingling that would announce someone's exit.
Rebecca snorted and turned her head into Fred's arm to hide her laughter.
Harry scratched above his lip and hoped that Hermione would understand. Ron used his thumb to wipe on his mouth where Hermione's was currently laden with a foam moustache. "You've got a little-yeah, right there." Ron muttered as Hermione got it.
Hermione wiped at it quickly, finally having the opportunity to turn the conversation to Fred. "I take it you've been briefed?"
Rebecca giggled. "Briefs."
Hermione's eye roll punctated her and Fred's growing titters before Fred grew more serious. He tilted his head so that his cheek was against the top of Rebecca's, his thumb rubbing along the outside of her wrist slowly. "I've been informed, yes."
"And?" Harry looked to Fred warily. "You did put an end to it, right? The planning and the locket and all?"
Fred smiled with a scolding hidden just behind. "Harry, you really put far too much faith in me and far too little in RJ." Fred kissed the top of Rebecca's head before sitting up straight and addressing all three of them plainly. "You misunderstood. Our promise wasn't to ask permission of each other--we're both smart enough to know that that would never end well. Aware and informed, those were the goals."
Ron sighed heavily. "He's not saying no because he's whipped like a bloody horse."
*******************************************
<3