Chapter 15
Number 12 Grimmauld Place became their home for the bulk of the winter holiday. Rebuilding at the Burrow took longer than projected due to the depths of the damage. Harry was the first up and apparated over with Arthur every morning, and Harry stayed until the last group was done for the day. He only paused when forced to, and he never stopped.
The work was hard and time consuming, leaving Rebecca and Fred with only a precious few minutes before sleep to be with one another. It quickly became their favourite part of the day.
The adults used magic to fix the structural damage, but the sorting through the rubble was a hand-needed job. Belongings were sorted into piles of salvageable and not, walls and floors were repaired once rooms were cleared. The water proved both a positive and a negative since there was anything left to save at all, but it had frozen and encased much of the work that needed to be done in ice. This left George, Cedric, and Fred on thawing duty.
Nearly every day went the same way: they woke up and ate a quick breakfast before going back over to sort and they continued to work until dinner with a small break for lunch somewhere between. It was hard work, harder still as Remus and Sirius had to excuse themselves the day before the full moon after Remus and Cedric had nearly come to blows.
Two wands down, the work was all the more slow going.
"Fred?" Rebecca called from what had once been the front room with the fireplace.
"Yeah?" Fred shouted back, moving around the floor above so that he was balancing over the hole in the ceiling. One of the main beams of the house had been weakened and fallen. "Thawed or dried?"
Rebecca held the book up and turned the page, ink from the shattered inkwell having leaked down the shelf and into the pile of books she had spread in front of her. "De-inked."
Fred waved his wand and the ink slipped off the pages. "Anything else?" Rebecca shook her head and they went back to sorting through their assigned areas.
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"Come eat!" Molly's voice echoed through the house. There were only days left until those returning to Hogwarts would make the trip to King's Cross and, at the rate they were working, the Burrow might be finished that by that night. "Now!"
Fred jumped through the hole in the ceiling, still of the opinion that it wouldn't hurt to leave it.
Rebecca paused in the doorway and wondered if she had time to go up the stairs and jump down too. With a sigh, Rebecca decided against it. "Let's go, darling. She won't ask twice."
"No, I will not." Molly marched past them down the length of the house, searching for a different black-haired child who loved to vex her. "Harry!" Molly gasped and moved to help him. He was straining to lift the table top back onto the legs.
Harry nearly dropped it, startled at her appearance, but with her help it didn't hit the floor. They balanced out the large surface the family dined around and slid it into place until the peg in the middle took and the table was once again whole.
"Thanks." Harry panted, shaking his hands out. Finishing the dining room had been his goal before lunch and now that he had met it, he could consider almost consider lunch. "Everything look the same in here?"
"Everything looks fine, Harry."
Harry followed her out of the room without a word. He didn't want to hear her tell him to say no one blamed him, or that he needed to stop. He knew they were both lies and he deserved their blame, he wished they would treat him without the kindness they had been so he could truly be punished.
Molly could sense the dark thoughts and laid her hand on Harry's shoulder as they made their way through the mostly finished downstairs. Upstairs was the primary focus for after lunch, all the way up to the attic, but in the days they had been working so far on the exterior and such, so much more than they could have hoped had been finished. "Eat and sit a moment, dear."
Harry dropped to the ground and ate the sandwich she put in his hands in a very Ron-like fashion. He was famished. Every second that they worked on the house, Harry pushed himself as hard as he could. The others were working hard, too, but none of them had guilt to fuel them.
Rebecca lowered herself to the ground with a grace he hadn't and took a slower bite of her sandwich. "So."
Harry kept his eyes down, for her. She didn't want to see him, not when he had done what he had.
"I shouldn't have hit you. I-" Rebecca had to turn her eyes away from Harry, taking his aversion of eye contact as a cowering.
Fred had told her that the quick she talked to Harry, they quicker they could move on. But it had taken longer than she would have liked to be able to look at him without filling with anger again no matter how it disgusted her. Harry had taken the bait so easily, so willingly, he-She silenced her internal griping to continue.
"I admit that." It was as close to an apology as she could get. Rebecca wished for a single second that she could grab his hand and make him see what she was thinking, but it was gone in a moment. That ease was not worth the price it would have come with.
"You should have." Harry kept his eyes down. "You all should have, honestly. I did this. This. It was all me."
"Hitting you was a mistake." Rebecca said sharply, not directed at Harry at all. She never should have raised her hands at him, let her anger be known in the form it had. "We are not supposed to be hit for mistakes. I was wrong."
Something crept into her voice that made Harry not argue against her again. He had not lived a childhood free of blows, but he knew it had never come close to Rebecca. Both Harry and Rebecca kept their backs to the rest of the workers and talked quietly.
"They okay?" Cedric asked as he slipped into his spot next to George.
"Dunno."
Fred rolled his eyes at George's shrug. "Of course they are. It's just a little tense right now."
Cedric nodded and busied himself with George's hand. "What's left upstairs?" George appreciated the distraction; he had been facing his own turmoil as he watched Harry run himself ragged.
George could see that Harry accepted his guilt and George didn't care. Harry could have killed himself, or any number of others if anyone had still been in the house, he could have killed Rebecca.
"I don't need to be able to read your mind." Cedric said softly. "I can see everything on your face."
George turned to Cedric with eyes filled with despair. "Then tell me what to do."
"Forgive." Cedric interrupted George before he could say anything. "What's done, is done. All we can do is move forward." George brought his lips to Cedric's and Fred left them to have their own semblance of privacy.
"Green bean." Tonks greeted Fred at the sandwich table.
"Candy floss."
Tonks snorted and turned her hair a brighter shade of pink. "Happy?"
"Very." Fred stacked three sandwiches off the table, checking to see if Harry and Rebecca had made any progress and disappointed by the sight of them in silence. The area that Arthur had cleared for lunch may have been cleared of snow, but the frozen grass still crunched under Fred's shoes as he joined them. "Still hungry?"
Rebecca and Harry thanked him quietly, appreciative of the second sandwiches. Fred knew he wanted to say something, but he couldn't figure out what. Rebecca solved this as the minutes passed and they were ending the break. "Ready to finish this?"
Harry looked up at her, knowing she meant more than just the work on the house. "I don't see how we can."
Fred brushed the crumbs off his hands and held a hand out for Harry to take to get back up to his feet. "We just do, mate."
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Molly looked around the kitchen and nodded, filled with pride. After discovering that the girls' room and the attic had been entirely caved in and then encased in ice, the rebuilding extended their stay at Grimmauld Place.
But the night before those returning to Hogwarts would leave, they would be sleeping in their own beds. Dinner was on and nearly finished, the smell spreading through the house and adding the final facet in the returning of home to the house.
Fred and Rebecca were going through what had survived from the trunks she had brought, sorting through what they would be able to take back when the others returned to the shop the next day and what was unsalvageable.
"These are done and good to go, the recipes attached." Rebecca slid a stack. "These have to be economised. Ingredients cost more than we'd ever sell them for, but they're pretty neat all the same. George'll have an idea, he always does."
Fred listened dutifully until the trunks were set and ready to be shrunk again. He slipped them into his back pocket, discreetly having been given the task by George and Cedric to replace the trunk they had given her at the beginning of term with a replenished copy. "Love?"
"Yeah?" Rebecca asked as she dug through her school trunk to make sure the mirror was safely wrapped in her jumper. Fred didn't answer and after she was sure the mirror wouldn't break in transit, she turned around and found Fred sitting with his back to her bed. "Fred?"
Fred opened his arms and Rebecca climbed into them.
"I know."
"Do you?" Fred asked as he buried his face against the top of her head. No matter how close he could be to her, the fact that they had to be apart again made him feel it wasn't close enough. "How much I love you, I mean?"
"I would think it's the same as how much I love you." Rebecca was happy to hear Fred laugh softly.
"Yes, that's probably correct." Fred bent his knees so that Rebecca fell more onto his chest. "You do love me entirely, right?"
Rebecca lifted her head off his collarbone. "Of course!"
Fred smiled and caught her in a tender kiss. "Good. That's how as much as I love you."
Rebecca smiled against his lips. "You're too much. You do know that, right?"
"You know you love it."
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"Robes?"
"Check."
"Jumpers?"
"Check."
"Wand?"
"Oh!" Rebecca whirled around and grabbed it. "Check."
"That's it, I guess." Fred put his hands in his pockets and looked around the girls' room in case he saw anything else Rebecca could need. "One more term until summer."
Ginny was gone already, she had tricked George and Cedric into taking her trunk down for her by saying it was so heavy there was no way either of them could manage it.
"Yes." Rebecca put her hands behind his neck and smiled up at him. "One term--half a year is gone already. Dooming prophecy, sabotage in the castle, house destruction and then reconstruction. What's in store next?"
Fred paled. "Nothing. Don't even take the mick."
"A calm end to the year is always my intention, it just hasn't worked out that way yet!" Rebecca defended. Fred's worries grew visibly and she tried to calm him. "We'll chat before bed and you'll see all's well."
"All's well." Fred echoed.
Ron shouted up the stairs. "Let's go! Mum's been calling up for ages!"
Rebecca put her arm through Fred's and paused at the door to look around at the whole-again room one more time.
"Forgetting something?"
"No, remembering." Rebecca's eyes met Fred's with an intensity burning behind that both thrilled and awed him. "It's going to take a little more than some fire to knock us down."
Fred tightened his grip on her and was kissing her before Rebecca could even recognise he was moving against her. His hands pulled her body against him as he deepened the kiss further, meaning and love shared between them. "Nothing's going to knock us down."
Rebecca nodded slowly, his heat leaving her agreement sluggish.
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"You-" Hermione was pacing in front of Harry and Rebecca in the compartment they had settled into while Ron ducked away with Lavender. Hermione had tried to speak multiple times already, but couldn't seem to get past her first word. "You-"
Rebecca snorted and nudged Harry who stared up concerned, not seeing anything humorous. "We've broken her!" Rebecca laughed.
"You were attacked and didn't think to call?" Back and forth Hermione paced, towards the window and then to the door. "You didn't think to write?"
"There wasn't much time!" Rebecca's amusement at Hermione's reaction waned at the fear filling the compartment. "The phone line was ruined and couldn't be magicked back like everything else. And for writing, we spent the days working our arses off to get things back together."
"It's too easy for them to get to you!" Hermione shouted, sitting between them. "You're bloody lucky no one was killed!"
"I know." Harry looked out the window. He knew all too well that someone could have been killed--he remembered Arthur's face when the fire climbed up into the sky and he didn't know if Molly was out of harm's way.
Rebecca caught Hermione's eyes and discreetly shook her head before Harry's attention left the passing scenery. She hoped Hermione would have the sense to save the subject for a later time when they would be alone, and Rebecca was right. Hermione scowled and pulled them both into a tight, nearly-choking hug.
The door to the compartment was opened minutes later, only shortly after Harry and Rebecca were allowed to sit up on their own. Ron stepped in before being jerked backways by the shining string now around his neck. "You'll wear it?" Lavender asked.
"'Course I'll wear it, Lav." Ron's eyes bulged as she pulled the necklace tighter.
"That's my Won-Won." Lavender blew him a kiss and then skipped away.
Rebecca barely managed to contain her grimace and stood. "I've got to find Nigel."
Hermione stood as well and followed Rebecca into the hall. "I've got to vomit." In the first moments they had away from the boys since December had ended, the two laughed. When their joy tapered, Hermione sighed. "Harry's blaming himself, isn't he?"
"Precisely." Rebecca had a hand in her pocket and held onto her leg tightly, preparing herself for the scolding that she wanted nothing more than to avoid but figured was imminent. "That's why I asked you to wait. But you can lay it all on me, let it out of your system and all. Harry just...he needs a break."
"I'm not going to 'lay it all on you.'" Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's-You both need to realise who you are."
"And who are we, Hermione? Ex-abused orphans with overlapping prophecies and a tendency for red-haired romance?"
"Self-pity is out of character." Hermione's frown deepened as she dissected what Rebecca had said. "And you know that's not what I meant--You're the Chosen Ones, choosing to be so or not."
"I know, I know." Rebecca sighed. "Are you coming with me?" Rebecca had caught sight of the back of Nigel and Louis' head down the coming compartments.
"To your tutelage of terrors?" Hermione laughed. "No, not today. I'll change and linger about. Ginny should be here somewhere."
Rebecca was grateful that Hermione's reaction hadn't been what she had prepared for, though hearing her best mate call her one of the 'Chosen Ones' still made her stomach flip horribly. Hermione though, she was regular and routing and exactly what Rebecca needed after the stresses of the holidays.
"Nigel!"
"Rebecca!" He mocked her intonation and hugged her briefly before she sat on the bench across. "We have to talk about your gifts."
"Yeah we bloody do!" Louis grinned. "When are those hitting the shelves?"
"Which ones?"
"All of them?" Yara asked.
"I have good word that they should be in the catalogue before Valentine's day, but production can take a bit you know." Rebecca explained how they had only been given some of the samplings from what she had been experimenting with on her own.
"It'll only take a while because you're not there, you mean." Nigel crossed his arms. "Over the summer, the shop never had an empty shelf!"
"Stop it!" Rebecca waved her hand at him as her face warmed at his unshielded and unmoderated praise. "Now, if you're all done being silly, we can talk business."
"Business?" Louis groaned. "Boring."
"Louis, Louis, Louis..." Rebecca raised an eyebrow and reached into her bag for the pouch she had for them all. "When have I ever been known to be boring?"
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"I had quite a mess upon my return." Dumbledore eyed Rebecca over the rims of his half-moon spectacles with a mischievous turn of his mouth. "Have either of you had the privilege of witnessing the consequences of an unopened Howler?"
Rebecca shook her head while Harry's jaw dropped; he had been warned well enough by Neville.
"The consequences would be...explosive."
Rebecca's face warmed. "There was perhaps some unhappiness over the break due to a-" She paused, wording herself carefully. "Lack of information passing."
"Evidently." Dumbledore turned his attention up to the ceiling of his office. High above all of their heads were traces of soot. "Molly must have forgotten I would be out of the office. That, or she felt I needed some art up there." Dumbledore pushed himself to his feet and strolled over to the shelf of memories. "I'm sorry to disturb you both on your first evening back."
"It's not a problem, professor." Harry hurried to the headmaster's side and eagerly looked back at Rebecca as the pensive was loaded with their next memory. "Shall we?"
Dumbledore held his hand out for them to go first. "After you."
Their surroundings solidified into what Rebecca put together what must have been Professor Slughorn's old office. He hadn't been far off with his descriptions of its stature, it really was barely more than an extended broom closet.
There was a table inside spread across the center of the room where a far-younger Slughorn sat at the head and an equally-younger Tom sat with a handful of students between them. Tom spoke for them all. "Sir, is it true Professor Merrythought is retiring?"
Harry walked around the table with Rebecca, both of them studying Tom's changed appearance. Something in him had changed, hardened behind his eyes. Rebecca saw no trace of the hurting little boy from the orphanage and despite the decades of time between them and the moment, she was uneasy.
"Tom, I couldn't tell you if I knew, could I?" Slughorn leaned forward and plucked a piece of candied fruit from the bowl on the table. "By the way, thank you for the pineapple! You're quite right, it is my favourite!" Grinning as he chewed on the treat, Slughorn sat back in his chair. "My wife makes a pineapple cake nearly divine. How did you know?"
Tom's head tilted back cockily and a knowing smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Intuition."
A clock in the background chimed the hour. "Oh gracious! Is it that time already?" The boys around Tom started to get up slowly as Slughorn gestured them towards the door. "Off you go boys, or Professor Dippet will have us all in detention."
When the professor thought that the room was his own once again, he returned to his desk and poured himself a dark-coloured drink. Tom tapped on the hourglass on the shelf, the very hourglass Rebecca had similarly tapped weeks earlier.
"Look sharp, Tom!" Slughorn chastised. "You don't want to be caught out of bed after hours."
Tom made no move to indicate that he would be leaving anytime soon.
"Is something on your mind, Tom?"
"Yes, sir." Tom walked to the side before turning back to Slughorn, his eyes narrowing on his target. "You see, I couldn't think of anyone else to go to. The other professors, they're not like you. They might misunderstand." Tom raised his shoulders slightly, sheepishly.
Slughorn raised his drink as a toast to the flattery. He stumbled ever so slightly as he made his way back to his chair from before--he had been drinking throughout the evening and had intended for this last glass to act as a nightcap. "Go on."
"I was in the library the other night in the Restricted Section and I read something rather odd about a rare magic, and I thought perhaps, you could illuminate me." Tom stood closer to Slughorn by the end of his query; he had steadily made his way closer as he spoke. "It's called, as I understand it-"
Rebecca turned to Dumbledore expectantly as the memory was blocked out with a high-pitched whirring and the subjects of the memory--Tom and Professor Slughorn--jumped from their previous position to new ones.
Once slouched and drinking to now standing tall and straight with his drink abandoned, Slughorn raised his voice steadily into a shout. "I beg your pardon? I don't know of such things and if I did, I wouldn't tell you!" Slughorn stormed towards Tom and shooed him out of the room. "Now get out of here at once and don't let me catch you ever mentioning it again!"
The remaining background of the memory washed away piece by piece until the last thing Rebecca saw was Tom standing in the doorway with his smug smile creeping fuller.
Dumbledore didn't waste any time when she and Harry were standing in his office with him once more. "Confused? I'd be surprised if you weren't."
"What was that at the end? When we couldn't hear anything and Slughorn jumped?" Rebecca wiped at her face the sleeves of her jumper and Harry polished the water off his glasses before holding his hand out for hers as well.
"This is perhaps the most important memory I've collected." Dumbledore lowered his voice as he walked towards them. "It is also a lie. This memory has been tampered with by the same person whose memory it is, our friend Professor Slughorn."
"Why would he tamper with his own memory?" Harry asked.
"To hide something?" Rebecca offered.
Dumbledore nodded. "I suspect he's ashamed of it."
"But why?" Harry demanded.
"Why indeed." Dumbledore motioned for Rebecca and Harry to step closer to him as he leaned against his desk. "I asked you to get to know Professor Slughorn, and you have done so. Now I want you to persuade him to divulge his true memory anyway you can."
Harry glanced at the headmaster. "I don't know him that well, sir. Not enough for him to give me something he's hidden even from you."
Dumbledore shook his head. "This memory is everything. Without it, we are blind." He looked to Rebecca. "Work together. Without that memory, we leave the fate of our world to chance. You have no choice, you must not fail."
Rebecca took a quick breath and stood up straighter. "We won't."
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"That's all he wanted to show you? A false memory?" Fred was in their bed at the flat. "Seems like a waste of time if you ask me."
Rebecca had silenced the edges of her bed so she could talk to Fred freely without waking Hermione of Ginny as they slept. "No, it led to our next task. We have to get the true memory from Professor Slughorn."
"That won't be hard."
"How won't it?" Rebecca furrowed her brow. "He's hidden it from Dumbledore, it's got to be something he doesn't want anyone else to see."
Fred wished he were there to hold her closer, to kiss away her worries and be by her side no matter what came. "After how he treated you in Hogsmeade, it's obvious the man adores you. Put your charming-hat on and you'll get it in not time."
"Your faith in me feels unwarranted." Rebecca sighed and laid down in bed, turning the mirror so she could almost pretend Fred was lying next to her.
"Oh no, it's all deserved." Fred reached behind him and turned the lamp off. His face was only illuminated by the light shining in from the window. "We can leave them up, if you want."
"That's a great idea, though we can't dilly dally in the morning. Hermione will have a flobberworm if we're late."
"Dilly dally?" Fred gasped. "Have I ever been known to extend goodbyes?"
Rebecca laughed and blew him a kiss before hunkering down under her blanket mound.
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Rebecca had been the one who wanted to swing down to the dungeons before their first class the next day. And, try as Harry did to find a flaw in her reasoning, she was right. "We need him to think we're friends. Best way to do that is going to be to let him talk about himself."
Harry rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall outside the classroom with her. Inside, the first year lesson was ending.
"I suggest you all reacquaint yourselves with the chapter on antidotes!" Slughorn waved the first years on their way. "Until next time, off you get!"
"Hey Rebecca!" Emmet held his hand out for a slap as he led the Gryffindors out the door and Rebecca greeted him as enthusiastically as he was.
"Ah ha!" Professor Slughorn turned away from his tidying at the sound of new entrants and was pleasantly surprised. "If it isn't the princess of Potions herself! And you, Harry."
Harry barely managed to suppress his sigh. He had gotten into a horrible argument weeks earlier after accusing Rebecca of stealing the Half-Blood Prince's notes, but he still felt that he wasn't wholly in the wrong for thinking along those lines. Harry had yet to complete a potion that bested hers in any noticeable way and Professor Slughorn continued to dote on her.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Rebecca hopped up onto one of the stools at his teaching table. "Actually, sir, I wanted to ask you something."
"Ask away!" Slughorn leaned his elbows on the table and shone with the same light from the memory--an excitement at being able to pass on and further knowledge.
"It's my question, professor." Harry stepped in and ignored the look Rebecca was giving him. If this failed, he only wanted one of them to be blacklisted in the professor's eyes. "I was in the library, in the Restricted Section, and I came across something rather odd about a very rare piece of magic."
Slughorn's eyes narrowed on Harry, both men oblivious to the pallor creeping over Rebecca's face as Harry regurgitated the exact lines of Tom. "Yes, and what was this rare piece of magic?"
"I don't know. I-I can't remember the name exactly." Harry shrugged. "But it got me wondering, are there some kinds of magic that you're not allowed to teach us?"
Rebecca slipped off the stool and prepared herself to head towards the exit as soon as Slughorn kicked them out. Her hands were clenched into fists so tight it hurt, but she couldn't loosen them.
"I'm Potions Master, Harry." Slughorn walked briskly towards the door. "I think your question would be better posited to Professor Snape."
Rebecca lingered after Harry as he trailed after the professor and spoke on. "He and I don't see eye to eye, sir. What I mean to say, well, he's not like you. He might misunderstand."
Slughorn's face pinched as he answered. "There can be no light without the dark. And so it is with magic. Myself, I always strive to live within the light. I suggest you do the same."
Slughorn left them at the door and Harry looked at Rebecca in alarm. He had run out of phrases from the memory and Slughorn was leaving them with exactly what they had had before they entered--nothing.
Rebecca steeled herself, knowing the reaction to her question would not be of the positive variety. "Is that what you told Tom Riddle, sir, when he came asking questions?"
Slughorn froze like he had been jinxed and he turned on his heel to look back at the twins darkening his doorstep. Rebecca wanted to shrink under his scrutinising gaze, but she stood as she had been and kept her face placid. "Dumbledore put you up to this, didn't he?" Rebecca's cool indifference didn't calm him, but enrage him. "Didn't he?!"
When no answer came from either Potter twin, Slughorn slammed the door between them shut.
"I thought we were asking him about his bloody holiday!" Rebecca hissed as they walked back to the others who should have been at breakfast. "What the hell, Harry!"
"I was going to ask him directly enough that he shut himself off to me and left you open to get it later." Harry's tone was defeated, broken. "I panicked when I ran out of the memory, I'm sorry."
Rebecca sighed and ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head so that he didn't blame himself. "It's alright. We'll think of something else."
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By the time the first week of class had passed, Harry nor Rebecca had anything new to contribute to their strategy. Slughorn avoided them like the plague.
Rebecca was on top of her homework, quidditch practises were going well, falling asleep with Fred each and every night had considerably lessened her heartache. She found herself skipping to the Room of Requirement while Hermione was in Arithmancy study hours happily. Instead of using her workspace to run away from something, Rebecca was going to work for the sake of work. It was a strange feeling after the strenuous start of the year.
Dumbledore had yet to call them down for another memory, and the centaur's celebrations had tapered down with the turn of the new year. Things seemed to be going well and Rebecca's time in the Room of Requirement left her with a happy peace for dinner.
But, by the time dessert had rolled around, there was a nagging pull at the back of Rebecca's mind that she couldn't ignore any longer. "Don't eat that."
Ron looked up from where Rebecca's hand held his back from the tiered chocolate cake. "Why not? It's bloody chocolate cake, I love chocolate cake."
Rebecca tilted her head back slightly. She was trying to listen to whatever was inside of her but just felt certain in her conviction. "I don't know. Just don't eat chocolate, okay?"
Hermione watched the exchange from beside Rebecca and didn't say anything while Harry slid a piece of treacle tart onto Ron's plate and stabbed Ron's fork through the top. "There," Harry said. "You'll hardly tell the difference."
Nigel ambushed Rebecca outside the common room that evening. He, Louis, and Yara stepped out of the shadows at the top of Gryffindor Tower in sync.
"How many times did you lot practise that?" Rebecca teased, waving Harry and Hermione in ahead of her.
"Doesn't matter." Louis grinned.
"Looked bloody wicked." Nigel added.
"They said they're working on it!" Rebecca explained once again. Her exasperation with the topic was clear. "Tell you what, Fred's coming to Hogsmeade on Valentine's. You can bugger him all you want then!"
"Won't you be doing something Valentines-y?" Nigel asked cheekily. "Something we children shouldn't be privy too?"
Rebecca reached into her pocket as if she were looking for something in particular. "I don't see any children, just nosy trolls!" Nigel took off with Louis on his heels, leaving Yara to face Rebecca on her own. "You're lucky, this time. I'll wait until the three of you are together."
When Rebecca gave the password and stepped into the common room, Rebecca's name was shouted from the boys' dormitories.
"Was that Harry?" Neville turned to ask her, he had been on his way out to the greenhouses. But his question remained unanswered as Rebecca was already half up the stairs.
Minutes before, while Rebecca was still outside and Ron had already stormed up the stairs to his room with a stream of curses about chocolate, Harry hunkered down by the fire with Hermione to talk about one of their most mysterious topics: his own twin.
"She did that before, in Diagon Alley." Harry remembered the day clearly, though he hadn't known why the memory had stuck out in his head as sharply as it had. "Long before we know Slughorn took E's she was picking up two copies of Advanced Potions in Flourish and Blotts."
"Yes, I know." Hermione's face took on its deep-in-thought look. "She's done it to Ginny and I before too, enough for me to know it but not enough for me to remember what for now." She looked to the fire. "It's strange."
"Rebecca doesn't talk in her sleep anymore, does she?"
Hermione's face softened and she managed a little smile. "She does."
"And?"
Hermione shook her head. "It's nothing like that, Harry. Talk about a certain someone more nights than not."
Harry grinned and gave Hermione his goodnights before excusing himself upstairs to comfort Ron the best he could at such a hard, hard evening's event.
"It's beautiful, isn't it? The moon?"
Harry shrugged his jacket off, eyeing the back of Ron carefully. Ron was sitting with his knees bent in front of the window. "Divine." Laying his coat on his bed, Harry traced the line of sweet wrappings from his bed to beside Ron. "Have ourselves a snack, did we?"
A sinking feeling entered Harry's stomach as Ron turned around with a heart shaped box that usually accompanied chocolates in hand. "It was on your bed, the box." Ron pushed himself to his feet. "I just thought I'd try one. Or 20. I can't stop thinking about her, Harry."
Harry sat on his bed so that his back was to the headboard. "Honestly, I reckoned she was starting to annoy you."
Ron closed the distance between he and Harry in seconds, putting his face far closer to Harry's than ever before. Harry jumped back and let his eyes flit to Ron's lips only a moment. "She could never annoy me!"
"Rebecca!" Harry shouted, hoping she was in the common room. Something was off, something not right behind Ron's eyes.
"I think I love her." Ron said the words slowly as if he were tasting them.
"Well, brilliant." Harry eased himself off his bed and sat on the edge of Ron's to put a little space between them.
"Do you think she knows I exist?"
Harry heard the pounding of feet in the hall and let out a sigh of pure relief--Rebecca would know what to do. "I very well hope so, she's been snogging you for three months."
"What's wrong?" Rebecca asked, slowing only once both boys were in her sight at the door.
"Snogging? Who are you talking about?" Ron demanded.
"Who are you talking about?" Harry countered.
"Who are either of you talking about?" Rebecca added, putting her hands on her hips. "I was summoned because..."
"I'm talking about Romilda, of course!" Ron shook his head at the two of them. "Romilda Vane!"
"Very funny." Rebecca looked at Harry who gestured back to Ron, which made Rebecca roll her eyes. Ron did not appreciate the disrespect in a room where his love had been mentioned and he stood and threw the box at her, hitting her directly in the stomach with it. "Oi! What was that for?!"
"It's no joke! I'm in love with her!"
Rebecca and Harry understood what must have happened at the same time. "Say Ron," Rebecca bent down and picked up the box in case they needed it as evidence. "Have you ever met Romilda Vane?"
Ron whirled on her with a newfound excitement. "No! Can you introduce me?"
Harry grabbed Ron's arm and looped it around his shoulder. "Yeah, we can. Let's go meet Romilda Vane."
Maneuvering Ron through the castle in the state he was in was fairly difficult. Rebecca found herself more and more frustrated on the opposite side of Ron than Harry as they tried to keep him from wandering side to side.
"Don't whinge, Rebecca." Harry warned as they turned the last staircase before the dungeons. "At least he isn't doing drunk renderings."
That shut up her complaints instantly.
When they finally made it to the Potions Master doors, Rebecca had Harry support Ron entirely to tidy herself before knocking; she tucked her hair behind her ears and righted her glasses. It took a few tries, but eventually her knocks were answered. "I'm so sorry, sir. I wouldn't bother you if it weren't absolutely essential."
"Where's Romilda?" Ron demanded, trying to turn back around and stopped by Harry.
Slughorn eyed Ron carefully. "What's wrong with Weasley? He's yumpier than usual."
"Love potion." Rebecca lowered her voice further. "Quite powerful."
"Very well, bring him in." Slughorn sighed and began to set up his supplies. As the apparati was set in their places and ingredients began to be fetched, he looked at Rebecca. "I'd have thought you could whip up a remedy for this in no time."
"I thought this required a more practised hand." Rebecca looked over her shoulder at Ron. "There won't be any lasting effects, will there?"
Ron wrapped his arm around Professor Slughorn and laid his head on the man's shoulder. "Hello, darling. Fancy a dance?"
Slughorn turned his body towards Rebecca slowly. "Perhaps you're right. No, not a trace."
Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder and directed him towards the couch. It was a lot harder than it should have been since Ron was admittedly taller than he was and fighting him every step of the way. Rebecca took the opportunity to try and patch things over. "I'm sorry professor, about last week--our misunderstanding."
Slughorn kept his eyes turned to the antidote in progress. "Not at all, water under the bridge. Correct?"
Rebecca nodded. "I expect you're tired of it after all these years. All the questions about Voldemort."
"Don't use that name!" Slughorn looked at her sharply. Harry had turned to listen to their conversation and hadn't noticed that Ron had climbed up so that he was sat on the back of the couch balanced precariously until Ron fell backwards with a thump that caught both Slughorn's and Rebecca's attention. "Go keep him from breaking anything." He dismissed Rebecca.
Rebecca hesitated, but eventually did as she was told wondering if the option of 'everything being under the bridge' was still open. She sat next to Ron and pulled him back to the couch every time he tried to get up, a quickly tiring job. When Slughorn walked over to the three of them with the antidote minutes later, it was a blessing.
"Bottoms up, old boy." Slughorn had poured the antidote into a glass.
"What's this?" Ron asked as he studied the bright liquid.
Slughorn glanced at Rebecca's idea-less face before realising neither Potter would be able to come up with a lie on the spot. "It's a tonic, for the nerves."
Ron smiled at them all and took a single drink. Rebecca and Harry watched as the grin that had stayed on his face since he had been found after eating the chocolates disappeared and his eyes cleared. "What happened to me?" He asked quietly. The fog that was lifting off his brain continued on and on, revealing to him how deeply he had been confounded.
"Love potion." Harry could barely hide his smile.
"Bloody strong one at that." Slughorn took the rest of the antidote from Ron before he could drop it.
"I told you about the chocolate, didn't I?" Rebecca rubbed Ron's back gently. "You're as bad as Rems."
Ron looked at her sadly, more so than he had looked in a long, long while. "I feel really bad. Empty."
Slughorn nodded and rifled around his desk. "You need a pick-me-up, my boy." He opened a drawer and pulled out a few bottles. "Got butterbeer, wine, dazzline oak-matured mead." Slughorn lifted the mead after a moment of consideration. "I had other intentions for this, but I think given the circumstances..."
Rebecca stood up next to Ron and patted his back one final time before letting him stand on his own. "I'm sorry, Ron."
Ron shook his head and took one of the glasses Slughorn offered them. Rebecca took her own and ignored the look Harry gave her, but he took one as well out of fear of seeming ungrateful. Ron was already lifting his glass to his lips, but Rebecca waited for Slughorn to finish the little toast he was about to begin.
"To life!" Slughorn smiled.
Rebecca raised her glass, all for the sentiment. "To life."
Ron was on the ground before the words had entirely left her mouth, well before any of the other three had been able to take a drink of their own. Rebecca fell to her knees and righted his neck. "Ron?" Foam crept out of his mouth and he began to seize; his limbs trembled madly. "Ron!"
Harry crouched next to Rebecca and tried to keep him still. "Professor, do something!"
Slughorn was a pale envious of the ghosts. "I-I don't understand."
Rebecca jumped to her feet and ran to his Potions set up. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon..." She muttered, tearing through the drawers and ignoring the mess she was leaving behind. "Bloody Potions professor doesn't have a fucking-" There, in the bottom of the drawer, was the very box she had been searching for.
Rebecca ran back across the room. Harry had Ron's head lifted slightly to try and clear his airway enough to breathe, but it wasn't helping. Rebecca cleared Ron's mouth of the foam choking him and shoved her find into his mouth.
Harry felt a peace go over him as Rebecca found the answer that hadn't even occurred to him. "The bee's whore."
"Bezoar." Rebecca would fail to see the humour in their repeated conversation for a long time. The fear flooded through her for Ron was all she could know. "Breathe, Ronald, breathe."
Ron didn't move, didn't make any sign that the bezoar was working. Rebecca moved her hands to the sides of his shirt so that she was ready to grab his skin the second his soul were to try and leave.
Slughorn had yet to do anything besides stare at them in shock.
Ron coughed a body-shaking cough and sat up, gasping for breath. Rebecca pulled him into her chest and held him tightly as Harry sat back against the couch behind them. Neither Harry or Rebecca had been mentally prepared for the possibility of a life without one of their integral parts that evening.
Ron shook his head against her, clearing his throat. "These girls, they're gonna kill me." He lowered his head further against her and closed his eyes.
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