Chapter 10
Fred was startled awake hours after he had finally drifted to sleep, Rebecca letting out a short gasp of pure fear as she jolted straight up where he had laid her to sleep. Her hands flew, one covering her mouth and the other holding her scar.
"Hey, hey, hey," Fred murmured, on his knees beside her in seconds. "Dream or...something else." She didn't answer at first and Fred moved closer to her, rubbing a slow circle in the center of her back.
"Dream." Rebecca managed, her voice shaking. "The door--whatever we need is behind the door..."
"I don't understand, love." Fred slid his arm underneath her legs, moving her and her blanket alike in a gentle movement. "Come down here, just breathe." He guided her head to the crook of his neck, holding the back of her head gently.
"The door, it's the locked door." Rebecca whispered, still seeing the dream play behind her eyes and so stuck in it she forgot Fred hadn't seen it.
Fred tightened his arms around her, continuing to run his fingers over her hair slowly. When her breathing had slowed enough for calm, Fred tried to move away enough to see her face clearly. Rebecca shook her head instantly, freezing like a statue. Moving away from him, even by just inches, was impossible when she still felt ill with the soul-reaching fear her dream had left her with.
Fred never dreamed of forcing her away or off of him, not when she was letting him be part of whatever solution she had found in his arms. So, he laid his head against the top of hers and tried to exude such a level of peace she couldn't help but fall asleep for the stretch of time until morning.
Fred, too, fell asleep. But not before he made sure Rebecca had been able to after all.
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Ginny and Ron were the first of their group to get down the stairs the next morning, both dressed in their kits and ready to get to the pitch. Ron was anxiously hoping everyone would be ready early enough to fit in some extra warm-up drills.
Ginny, on the other hand, was not as concerned. She rolled her eyes at the sight of Fred and Rebecca on the makeshift bed in front of the smoldering embers that kept them warm. Fred had one arm under the pillow Rebecca's head rest on and the other across her middle. Rebecca was turned perfectly onto her side, her hand resting on the front of Fred's chest while her nose was hardly a finger's breadth away from him.
All in all, they were adorably disgusting.
Ron scoffed and went to kick at Fred's legs. "It's morning," Ron grumbled. "Get your arses out of bed and-"
"Ronald!" Hermione gasped. She stepped out of the hall of dorms just as his intentions of a well-placed kick were obvious, but incomplete. "What are you thinking?"
Ron winced, embarrassed that he was so clearly caught. "I'm thinking that it's morning and we should all be up and ready to go by now--not canoodling by the fire!"
Fred had been woken by the argument--as well as the fact that Ron did nothing to lower his voice--and made sure Rebecca hadn't been woken so rudely before scowling. "Give me one damned minute, Ronald. I'll show you some 'canoodling.'"
Ginny sniggered and elbowed Ron, teasing him to distraction.
Fred pushed the hair covering Rebecca's face back, running his thumb down the side of her face as he did. "Good morning, love." He pecked her forehead.
Rebecca's eyes fluttered open, Fred's face appearing directly in front of her. Giving her a slight smile, Fred eased his arm out from under the pillow and sat up. In a flash, Fred was off the bed and wrapped his arms around Ron's legs. "How's this for canoodling? Happy now?" Fred kept his elbow tucked under Ron's chin, using his other hand to mess his hair up wildly.
Rebecca sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. Her head felt as if it were coated in glue and rolled across the shore of the Black Lake--like there were little stones covering her every thought, dulling and quieting them. She put the pillows they had used back onto the couch and climbed the stairs sleepily to get ready for the match without a word.
"How'd you two sleep?" Hermione asked as Fred dropped onto the couch next to her, panting slightly.
Fred glanced at her, knowing what she was really asking. "There was only one...incident. She said something about a locked door, needing whatever was behind it."
Hermione looked away, deep in thought. "Harry mentioned this door to Ron and I, too."
Fred stood and shook his head, frustrated with himself already. Rebecca had gone upstairs minutes before he had and Fred prided himself with spending breakfast with Rebecca every morning. He waved his wand at the pillow he had made into a bed from the stairs, hurrying into his room he worried George who was sitting at the edge of his bed tying his shoes.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing." Fred let out a grunt as his elbows tangled in his shirt. "Just want to be down before-"
"Never mind." George grinned and had to give into a little tease. "Can't possibly spend a morning apart."
Fred said nothing, accepting George's unsaid apology when his brother tossed him a shirt after failing to find one of his own.
"How do you think the ladies contain themselves?" Lee asked, leaving the bathroom with his towel around his waist. He glanced over his shoulder to see the back of him in the mirror. "I don't think I'll ever know."
Fred and George looked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter that sent a wave of heat to Lee's face.
"Oi! It's a valid question!"
Fred laughed harder, looping his belt around his trousers and heading for the door.
"Erm, Fred?" George called, raising an eyebrow. "You've forgotten socks, shoes, a tie, and you know-your robe."
"Oh, yeah."
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While Fred's morning seemed to only be getting better, Rebecca couldn't shake the fog from over her shoulders. She looked at herself in the mirror, the cold water leaving trails down her cheeks. Rebecca was almost confused that she looked the same as ever--something felt...off or different, out of alignment not enough to be picked out but enough to be noticed.
However undecipherable, the feeling left her body as tired as if she hadn't slept at all.
The exhaustion left her desperate and, thinking she was alone in their room, she picked up a set of robes from days before and went to pull them on.
"Don't you dare." Hermione warned from the shadows by her bed. "Hygiene."
"Bloody hell!" Rebecca hissed, jumping back into the bathroom and reaching for her glasses that were nowhere to be found. "What are you doing up here?"
"You forgot your glasses and I thought you'd want them." Hermione answered, feeling like she had been scolded too. The actual reason--that it occurred to Hermione downstairs that her bed had been left unmade--would have been ignored by Rebecca's purposely unmade bed. "But why? Why would you put on dirty clothes?"
"Because they're already out and the belt is in and the tie could have just-why? What's it-" Rebecca clamped her mouth shut, rolling her neck. Hermione didn't deserve this, Hermione was only being her friend, Hermione didn't...A moment later, Rebecca had wrestled whatever wanted to burst out of her back into control.
"Here, I'll grab them then." Hermione was relieved that Rebecca sat down, her face was so white it looked as if she might faint. "Why-" Hermione shook her head, taking out a different pair of trousers and holding them up to the first two she had pulled out. "Do I want to know why all of these are torn down seam?"
"It's my fault." Rebecca said. "It was George's idea to pick a prototype. Didn't think the Wedgie-Watch would be such a painful endeavor."
"But why haven't you sewn them? I showed you the spell for your coat pocket years ago." If Hermione hadn't been concerned with Rebecca so far, she certainly was with the muted quality her voice had taken talking about a prank the three of them had come up with. Talking about their pranks usually lightened, brightened her tone.
"I wanted to ask Molly for help over the holiday." Rebecca said, her voice growing smaller. "I still can't find any of the tears she's fixed for me before." Hermione pulled out a shirt of Rebecca's and frowned as every single button fell to the floor. "We didn't do that. What's going on with the laundry?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "S.P.E.W. has come to a minor standstill for the time being. The house elves have...declined to provide any upkeep in here."
Rebecca reached for a shirt of Hermione's, pulling in on as quickly as she could get her arms to respond--noticeably slower and jerkier than usual. Slipping her tie under her collar, Rebecca left it undone. "Not a word." She interrupted as Hermione opened her mouth to remind her of the uniform. "I get to leave it undone a while, for the buttons."
Hermione bit her cheek, saying nothing.
Rebecca pulled a jumper off her bed on their way out and hurried down the stairs, realising just how long it had taken her and how irritated they were all going to be.
"Hermione," Ginny asked, staring at Hermione pointedly as Ron herded them all to the portrait hole. "Do you see anything wrong? Something...undone, perhaps?"
"No, not at all." Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Unless of course, you're talking about your shoe."
Ginny looked down and let her head hand in disappointment. "I can't believe I just fell for that."
Hermione laughed loudly, "Me either!"
Rebecca turned her head, Fred's quiet appearance by her side startling. "RJ," He asked lowly, bringing his hands to the ends of her tie to save her from an unneeded detention. "Have I done something you wouldn't like me to again?"
"No!" Rebecca answered quickly, shaking her head. "No, not at all. I-I just,"
"It's alright." Fred held her hand discreetly between them, the Great Hall nearing and with it, the potential for trouble. "You don't have to explain, I just needed to make sure I wasn't-well, you know."
"Fred," Rebecca shook her head and sighed as they took their usual seats at their usual table. "I don't think you could ever 'you know.'"
Fred chuckled and dished their breakfast while Rebecca poured their tea. "Everything might be changing, but somethings never will." His thoughts filled him with just as much warmth as the hot food and drink, more even.
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The match was going as nearly every other match of the season had: Ron was letting more shots through than he saved and the Slytherin students were taking the opportunity to begin their horrid song.
Fred looked around and caught the eyes of the few of their friends on other stands who had been waiting for the signal. Then, he laid a hand on Rebecca's thigh and squeezed it, trying to tell her how wholeheartedly he supported this idea of hers.
Rebecca stood up and stepped onto to the bench, raising a hand up for the attention of those immediately around her. The feeling of something being wrong had faded, had been pushed to the back of her thoughts and her mind as Fred dragged her out of the shell she had been creating through the first half of the match. And, now, Rebecca felt more herself than she had all day--protecting her family.
"Weasley is our king, Weasley is our king!" Fred looked up at her and felt his face warm by the sheer affection he felt, his heart beating so hard he thought Hermione next to him would certainly be able to hear it. "He didn't let the quaffle in, Weasley is our king."
Cedric and Louis were the first to standing for Hufflepuff, Luna and Cho the first for Ravenclaw. All four managed to get their houses to their feet and chanting with them. "Weasley can save anything! He never leaves a single ring! That is why we all sing, Weasley is our king."
The Slytherin students slowly sat down, silenced in shame as the new chant continued on and on. Ron found strength and confidence in the loudly-proclaimed support of his friends and used that newfound-power to stop the quaffle more and more.
By the end of the match, Slytherin hadn't managed another goal on him. When Ginny caught the snitch, three of the school's four houses stood and cheered. The stands seemed to vibrate in the air due to the stomping of celebration, Gryffindor's final victory against Slytherin ending their run for the year.
"Slytherin's given up their last chance at redemption for the season. Their win-to-loss has passed the point of no return, they'll play one more match against Hufflepuff post-holiday. But, win or lose, Slytherin is out." Lee paused his narration, expecting a scolding. "Wow! I'll just keep going then! Weasley is our king, Weasley can save any-"
"That's plenty enough, Mr Jordan." McGonagall's voice was heard over the announcements, interrupting Lee's warbling. Her voice was flooded with pride, she had resigned herself to the expectation of a bitter loss in the defending of the house cup with so many of her players forcibly removed. While the replacement beaters were sorely lacking and Katie and Angelina flew circles around the replacement chaser, Ginny had made an excellent seeker and Ron only continued to improve.
Harry bumped into Rebecca as they filed out of the stands with the other students. "Why do I have a feeling you had something to do with all that?"
"Because you know I'm a natural poet?"
"And so very humble." Harry laughed.
"She only needed help with one rewrite." Fred admitted, putting his arm around Rebecca's shoulder and falling in step beside her. "Turns out, not a lot rhymes with cheating fuc-"
"Maybe not so natural then!" Rebecca interrupted, her face warming.
George scooped Ginny up into his arms as she and Ron ran to them, the two quidditch players bathed in compliments and hugs until Angelina called for them in the doorway of the locker room. They were all so wrapped up in their celebrations, they forgot about the looming requirements of new-rules and all of the eyes present at the match.
"Eight inches?" Umbridge demanded, pausing her sour-faced march at the results of the match to force her barbaric rules onto her least-obedient students. Her eyes narrowed onto the connection of Fred and Rebecca, nowhere near the required distance between male and female between them.
Rebecca felt something harden inside of her, something that was so sick by the constant nagging and rules. "I'm not quite sure, we haven't gone that far yet. Fred?" She looked up at him, feigning such an intense sense of normalcy it was incredible when considering the subject matter. "Anything to contribute measurement wise?"
Umbridge, miraculously, when whiter than a ghost and redder than dragon's fire. "Detention, tonight!" The High Inquisitor resumed her exit post-haste, muttering under her breath darkly all the way to her office.
Fred's face burnt brighter than the sun as their friends thawed themselves from their frozen shock to look at them.
"What...is...wrong...with...you?" Hermione asked, enunciating carefully to make sure there was no doubt in her words.
"Why?" Harry took a different approach, putting his face into his hands as he tried to erase the last two minutes from his head. "W-Why?" He only paused before repeating himself again. "Why?"
Fred sighed, looking to Rebecca with a contemplating tilt to him. "Nope. I still can't believe you just said that. Cannot believe it."
"Well, no one else was saying anything!" Rebecca defended sheepishly.
"You could have said anything else, anything at all!" Harry offered, still in awe at his twin's audacity.
George looked over his shoulder to Rebecca, trying to hide his amusement at Fred's still beaming cheeks. "Or nothing. That could have worked too."
Fred finally seemed to decide on his reaction, the embarrassment fading from its supernova burn inside of him. He lowered his face towards Rebecca's, a grin growing slowly. "But did you see her face?"
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Rebecca arrived to her detention assignment on time, albeit accidentally.
"I feel like you should really be writing lines about your foul, foul mouth." Umbridge began, trying to shame Rebecca further by focusing her opening statements on her in front of the other detention-goers. "But you will continue with your previous punishments as you continue to fabricate stories to the Prophet."
"How am I reaching the Prophet?" Rebecca asked to Umbridge's already-turned back, twirling the quill on her desk between her fingers boredly. "You scan all the mail."
"I think you are trickier than you look. Begin your lines."
Rebecca stifled a sigh and began to write, the pain of the action starting at a soft burn due to the unhealed cuts from days earlier. "I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies..." Her hand began to bleed quicker than usual.
An hour later, Rebecca was released with the other punished students. Nearly stumbling at the first flight of stairs to the Gryffindor common room, Rebecca was made aware of just how light-headed she actually was--an effect that had lost its potency after their first every detention.
"Rebecca?" Cho called, surprised to see her so close to the Ravenclaw wing of the castle. "Rebecca, where-oh!"
"It's nothing." Rebecca said, trying to pull her hand from Cho's cautious hold without sending a burst of agony up her arm. "I'll deal with it u-upstairs."
"You're going the absolute wrong way, do you know that?" Cho looked at Rebecca's eyes and found no understanding of the fact. "Come, you won't even get that far if this keeps bleeding like this." Cho made Rebecca hold her hand higher, trying to elevate it as best she could on their way to the nearest lavatory.
"I don't, Cho-" Rebecca knew that washing her hand was going to hurt horribly. "Like I said, it's nothing and I-"
"It's not nothing!" Cho's tone was so uncharacteristically aggressive, Rebecca's complaint ended immediately. "This is going to hurt, but you have to stop the bleeding. I'm sorry." Rebecca closed her eyes tightly as Cho led her hand to the cool water, the dull-burning changing to sharp, hot tingling.
Cho filed away some of Rebecca's cursing, wanting to research the combinations at a later time. "Alright, there we go." Cho dabbed the back of Rebecca's hand dry and had her hold it up once more. "Aboe your heart, perfect." Both girls were quiet a moment, Rebecca reaching forward to rinse the evidence of her wound from the sink and Cho motioning for her to lean back and rest a moment.
"I heard about what you said." Cho said after the silence grew too long to not be interrupted.
Rebecca sighed. "Of all the things I've said, this is the one everyone hears about."
"Why would you do that? Antagonise her so directly when you knew exactly what she'd put you through because of it?" Cho's eyes were met with Rebecca's, a startlingly prominent rigidity in the shades of green.
"Because she wasn't expecting it--it rattled her." Rebecca thought a moment. "Because it made me feel like I was bigger than she was. And..." Rebecca laughed softly, remembering the interaction. "And because it was bloody hilarious."
Cho looked at the back of Rebecca's hand a minute later, still thinking over what she had said. The bleeding had slowed to just the odd bleed. "You're going home for the holiday, aren't you?"
Rebecca could tell by the well-hidden concern that Cho was really asking if there was a chance Rebecca would be getting detention for the weeks to come. "I said I liked to piss her off, not that I liked to spend unnecessary time with her. I'm not mental."
"Good to hear." Cho laughed with Rebecca joining too. "This definitely needs time to heal. In the bag Nigel got today are tins and jars of a new salve we've been working on...I think it was one with a lion on it, but there's one specifically addressed to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Listen," Cho waited for Rebecca's undivided attention. "I want you to use it, we're hoping it increases the rate of healing by changing some ratios of the mixture."
"Yes ma'am." Rebecca lowered her head, using her uninjured hand to tip her imaginary hat. "I will, Cho. The second I get back."
Cho nodded once, glancing at Rebecca's hand in the hallway before they went their separate ways. "Good, that's awful. You know how to get back now?"
Rebecca laughed. "Yeah, heads clearer now. Not sure where I thought I was going before."
"Me either." Cho waited for Rebecca to head off in the right direction before returning to her own common room.
"I'm back!" Rebecca was glad to find almost all of their group downstairs spending the evening quietly. "Umbridge sends her warm regards and wishes you all well."
"Really?" Ron asked, looking up from he and Harry's chess match briefly.
"No."
Fred chuckled and scooted to the side so that Rebecca could sit beside him, his hands leading her fresh cuts to his sight with fragile care. "Oh, love..."
"It hardly hurts." Rebecca lied. "Cho said-"
"Here!" George called, hurrying down the stairs with Nigel on his heels. "Cho got word to Nigel that you would need this?"
Rebecca looked to Nigel impressed. "She only just told me in the loo!"
"I have my ways." Nigel grinned. "And she said you'd forget."
Fred took the tin warily, smelling it and finding a difference between that which they had been making in mass quantities and what the Ravenclaws had sent to them. "What is it?"
George scoffed. "A better salve made by the better potion makers." George crumpled the card up and threw it towards the fire. "Arrogant arseholes, the lot of them."
"Let's see if it's better before we call names." Hermione offered, keeping her eyes averted from the back of Rebecca's hand. They had all gotten better with blood this year, but this was something else entirely.
"I hope it's better." Fred told Rebecca quietly, spreading the salve over the back of her hand so gently she could hardly feel it. "Really, love. I don't like the way this-"
"It's not really my favourite either." Rebecca went to take her hand back from him, but he tightened his hold on her wrist.
"I don't mean to upset you, RJ." Fred brought the backs of her fingers to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on them before letting go of her hand. "But I'm worried."
"I know." Rebecca moved slightly closer to him, looking to him to know if it was okay before settling against his side. "I know, darling."
The conversations amongst the friends took off, though Fred and Rebecca stayed along the outskirts of it--mainly answering what was directly asked of them and quietly enjoying the other's company.
"I still can't believe you said that." Fred admitted as the day's end neared.
"Well, it shocked me too if that helps." Rebecca giggled. "It wasn't that bad, really. Besides, if all goes well, I shouldn't have another detention before we go home next week."
"We're not going home." Fred said softer, not wanting the others to hear the turn he brought to their conversation.
"Maybe not the house of home but," Rebecca racked her brain, trying to figure out how to word what she was thinking. "Home is really where those we love are, isn't it?"
Fred looked at Rebecca a long moment, falling even farther--farther than he had ever thought would be possible--in love with her. "You are entirely right and I am luckier than most."
"Why?"
"I can feel at home whenever I am with you."
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"He really said that?" Hermione asked from the bathroom, carefully listening to Rebecca's retelling.
"Yes!" Rebecca took her glasses off and covered her eyes with the back of her good hand, her face warming and her heart beating faster just thinking about Fred. "How can he just come up with things like that?"
Ginny groaned, her self-inflicted smothering with her pillow not enough to drown out the chatter. "Rebecca, please! It's been half a bloody hour, just go to sleep already!"
Rebecca sat up, narrowing her eyes across the room where she knew Ginny would be giving her a face. "Sorry, princess. I didn't realise you required your beauty rest so silent."
"I'm not being a princess, I just want to get some sleep." Ginny argued back, a bite in her words reflecting something deeper.
Hermione shook her head at their antics, placating them both as she got into her bed. "I think it's sweet, Becs. I want to hear more tomorrow."
"It was sweet." Rebecca said. "He says things like that and-and my heart feels like it's jumping out of my ears."
"Poetic?" Hermione wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to that.
Rebecca reached up and turned her lamp off, leaving the room only illuminated by the stars.
"Do you like it?" Ginny's voice sounded out across their room a few minutes later.
"Like what?"
"Being in love."
Rebecca adjusted under her blankets, Hermione's eyes settling on her friend in the dark as she tried to come up with an answer. "Yes and no." A silence formed and grew, Hermione and Ginny knowing that Rebecca would break it when she had words. "It's more than the snogging. Not that that isn't great, it is. It's everything else too." Rebecca took a breath. "It's how he fixes things just by being there, fixes me. I feel like I'm floating or falling or...flying with him."
"But it's terrifying." Rebecca's voice wavered. "We're entering a war; a war against someone that's killed so many people. If something were to happen to him and I couldn't-I couldn't be there or I-" Rebecca's voice broke off and didn't start again.
"I'm sorry I asked."
"It's good you did, important." Rebecca hoped Ginny could tell that she wasn't upset by the question, not in the way Ginny thought. "It's important to know why we have to fight, why we have to win."
"And that's because..." Hermione led, wanting to hear Rebecca's thought.
"Because love will always beat hate and that's all Voldemort does, really. All that he is. Hate."
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"You think I cannot love?" The voice they were all to familiar with hissed inside of Harry and Rebecca's heads, igniting their scars. "You think I can only hate?"
Both Harry and Rebecca's sight changed, from the darkness of dreamless sleep to a gliding on the floor. The darkness they had spent countless nights running ahead of, running from, was now what they were seeing out of.
Rebecca and Harry were frozen inside of this strange body, unable to move--forced to look ahead as they continued down the hall. The head turned to the side, showing a snake in the reflection of the black and white tile surroundings of the hall that had grown familiar.
"That is where you are wrong." Voldemort spoke louder in their heads, the pain in their foreheads growing louder as well. Their bodies in the beds clenched and writhed. "There are things that I love." The snake slowed at the door the hall ended at, the very door they had been unable to get inside of until now.
Their vision changed a moment, Voldemort having to struggle for control over their minds as something--one of them, he thought--pushed against him. There was a flash of an orb, of Voldemort, the back of a red head.
"I love pain, for one."
The snake turned up an aisle and Rebecca's body went still as she realised what was going to happen. "ARTHUR! ARTHUR, RUN!!!" Her voice was useless, her screams only echoing inside of Harry and Voldemort's heads.
"Go ahead, try and warn him. Maybe he'll hear you." Voldemort taunted her, relishing the sound of her agony. "Maybe not though."
The snake's body raised itself, letting out a hiss that caused Arthur to turn around.
Harry and Rebecca attacked Arthur through the snake without a second's more delay. The first bite landed on the back of his leg, forcing him to the ground and scrambling for his wand. They unged again, forced alongside the snake's attack higher and higher as Arthur was bitten again and again and again. His arm, his shoulder, the side of his neck, the snake attacked anything it could.
Arthur's screams echoed into the darkness and, after an eternity, the snake detached itself from his flesh. Looking over the bleeding, shaking body it had made, the snake forced Rebecca and Harry to see what they had particpated in.
"Your pain is exquisite." Voldemort said coldly. "Do not doubt for a single second of your dwindling lives that I do not love it."
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Rebecca woke up in such a whirl, such a fervour, she tangled her flailing legs tightly in her blankets and landed on the floor with a violent thud. She pulled herself up, kicking her legs free as she shook Hermione roughly. "Wake up! Something-something's happened! It's Arthur, he's been attacked!"
Hermione was awake before Rebecca took to shaking her so, the bang of her falling out of bed enough to wake Ginny across the room. "Were you dreaming? Let's take a second, look at-"
Rebecca made it ot her feet and threw the bathroom door open, letting the light she turned on flood the room. Obviously, there would be no seconds taken.
"Rebecca, are you sure?" Ginny asked, standing and gathering their coats.
Rebecca's nod was all the assurance the girls needed, they were in motion at once. Ron and Harry were tearing down the stairs opposite the common room with Fred and George right behind them.
"What's going on?" Fred demanded, holding Rebecca in front of him and terrified by the fear in her eyes. "They're not making any sense!"
"We need to go!" Harry shouted, pushing the portrait hole open and running through.
"He's right, there isn't time." Rebecca pushed Fred's hold away, turning and running after Harry as fast as she could.
All of them ended up in a mad sprint to catch up and keep pace with Harry and Rebecca, finding them only once both Potter twins stopped at McGonagall's door and pounded on it.
"What in Merlin's-What's happened?" The professor's voice shifted from outraged to instantly concerned at the sight in front of her. Despite the fact that she was in her pajamas and bonnet, McGonagall stepped into the hall and tried to make sense of what was laid in front of her frantically.
Hermione and Ron took the lead in trying to explain what they thought had happened--what they had managed to piece together from Harry and Rebecca's words. Both Harry and Rebecca's bodies twitched, their eyes flitting about as they tried to make sense of what was going on inside of them.
Had anybody in the hall had the ability to step inside of another's consciousness, they would have found Harry and Rebecca's minds to feel like walking on shards of glass. Blades that had been trodden on by masses of people. Neither Potter could differentiate between what in their heads was theirs or their twins, what belonged to the two of them and what belonged to Voldemort.
McGonagall grabbed an arm of both of them, noting how their clothes were sodden with sweat but their skin was colder than ice. McGonagall took them straight to Dumbledore's office.
"In the dream," Dumbledore asked, avoiding any direct eye contact with Harry or Rebecca who were in a group of there own. McGonagall had herded the others to the side. "Were you standing next to the victim or looking down at the scene?"
"Neither." Rebecca answered for them both, her voice laced with a quality that sent a shiver down Fred's spine. The more Rebecca thought about what they had seen, what they had played a direct part in, the louder the white noise in her ears got. "It was-we were-"
"Professor, will you please just tell us what's going on?" Harry interrupted, his eyes following Dumbledore's every movement as the headmaster crossed the room to a portrait of a man who was listening carefully.
"Everhardt, Arthur's on guard duty tonight. Make sure he's found by the right people."
"Sir?" Harry tried again, his tone brittle. Being so blatantly ignored, so clearly kept from information they needed, was sending his heart racing.
"Phineas...go to Grimmauld Place, tell them Arthur Weasley is gravely injured and his children will be arriving to St Mungo's soon by portkey." Dumbledore relayed his further instructions to a different portrait, still ignoring Harry and Rebecca.
Rebecca's arms crossed, her hands gripping her shoulders tight enough to hurt. She rolled her neck, her breath coming quicker as Arthur's injuries were confirmed. "My fault, all my fault. Should have stopped it, could have found a way..."
"They got him, Albus!" The first painting, Everhardt, returned with an update. "It was close, but they think he'll make it. What's more, the Dark Lord failed to acquire it."
"Look at us!" Harry shouted, his voice sharp and thoroughly in pain. "What's happening to us?"
"What's wrong with us?" Rebecca asked hollowly, her voice void of all edge it had had before. She sounded empty, a void. Dumbledore looked at them for the first time in months, finding causes for concern in the faces looking back at him.
Fred's fists clenched and the only reason he did no march across the room to comfort them both was because of McGonagall's hand in front of him along with the look she gave him, warning him to stay where he was.
Professor Snape entered the room, eying the occupants curiously before addressing Dumbledore. "You wished to see me, headmaster?"
"Severus," Dumbledore walked Snape to the side, lowering his voice slightly. "I'm afraid we can't wait, not even until morning. Otherwise, we'll all be vulnerable."
Severus nodded, knowing exactly to what Dumbledore referred to. He laid a hand on a shoulder of Harry and Rebecca each, guiding them towards the exit.
"Where are they going?" Fred called out, pushing against McGonagall's hand as they were separated. "Why aren't they coming with us?"
"They will join you all later, child." McGonagall squeezed his arm, looking over the faces around her. They were scared and afraid, confused and teary, angry. "Let's get to now, your mother will be expecting you."
"But, what if dad-" George's voice broke, the idea of the impossible too hard to put to words.
"They will meet you there!" McGonagall's voice sharpened, ending all forthcoming questions.
Snape's short-lived kindness--shown only in the absence of insults during their walk--ended by shoving Harry and Rebecca towards the two chairs that he brought over with a sharp flick of his wand. He had refused to answer any of their questions on the walk down to the dungeons, only propelling them faster into the darkest depths of the castle as they grew closer to his classroom.
"It appears," Snape began, intoning as usual. "That there is a connection between the Dark Lord's mind and both of yours. Whether he is aware of this connection, for the moment, is unclear."
Rebecca spat her words, outraged that she wasn't with the others. Especially that she wasn't taken to St Mungo's with the others. "He's aware, well aware. He knew exactly what I'd spoken about before bed."
Snape looked up from where he was unwrapping a cloth-packaged assortment of tools, narrowing his eyes at her. "You had best pray he finds ignorance, then."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, bringing Snape's attention onto him and away from Rebecca before she got herself into a trouble she couldn't get herself out of. "If he knows about it, he can what? Read our minds?"
"Rea it, control it, unhinge it." Snape stalked towards them, his words venomous. He had his two least favourite people in his class in the middle of the night, and they seemed to want nothing more than to irritate him into an early grave. "In the past, it was often the Dark Lord's pleasure to invade the minds of his victims, creating visions designed to torture them into insanity." Rebecca looked up as Snape turned back to her, glaring. "Only after extracting the last exquisite ounce of agony, only when he had them literally begging for death, would he kill them."
"Why are we here? Why aren't we with the others? We're not going mad, we're not being tortured!" Rebecca's voice dripped with such a malice, Harry wasn't sure where this much fury came from within her.
Harry also couldn't help but notice the crazed light in her eyes. He spoke quietly, leaning towards her the best he could. "Rebecca, who knows how long this has been going on? Remember..." Snape leaned closer, careful to catch Harry's every word. "Remember Lavender? You couldn't explain it, you just acted."
"I reacted-" Rebecca rolled her neck, trying to rein in her rage before it consumed her and she lost it on Harry. "I reacted in a perfectly acceptable manner."
"As much as I relish being witness to such familial dissonance," Snape gestured between the two of them, his sarcasm potent. "It is not why we are here."
"Then why are we?" Rebecca snapped.
"Used properly, the power of Occlumency will help shield you from access or influence." Snape stepped closer to Rebecca, looking down at her. "In these lessons, I will attempt to penetrate your mind. You will attempt to resist."
Rebecca's glare settled into a scowl. "Fine, do what you will. Just hurry it up!"
Snape raised his wand at her head, his mouth twisting in something almost resembling a smirk. "Legilimens!"
The effect was instantaneous. Snape was inside of Rebecca's mind with only the minutest of difficulty, images flashing behind her eyes that he flipped through with a bored fascination.
Jane, smiling, stories, playing...William, silence, cold...Burning car, smoke, arm...Hungry, hungry, hungry...Bruised, bleeding, broken, cold, hungry, cold, stealing-
Rebecca's eyes opened and she sat in her seat limp, her head once more her own. Things were scrambling out of the locked boxes she kept them in, thoughts that carried so much pain they weren't meant to be thought about.
"That was pathetic." Snape scoffed, turning to Harry. "No wonder the Dark Lord has had such success, no defence at all."
The process was repeated between Harry and Rebecca for over an hour, Rebecca's worst memories drudged out for Snape to see and she to relive. When it seemed like their last reserve of strength was used, Snape turned his back to them. "Go, Dumbledore will direct you to St Mungo's."
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"Why aren't they back, George?" Ginny whispered, the room the children were sitting in with Molly tense.
"I don't know, Gin." George put his arm around Ginny and pulled her closer. "But there's got to be a good reason, yeah? They'll get here when they get here."
"Nothing'll keep Rebecca from getting here." Ron added, his eyes still off in the distance.
Ginny nodded, wishing the words of their brothers was enough for Fred. After their brief, brief glimpse of an unconscious and bandaged Arthur, Fred had yet to move from his seat across the door of their waiting room. His arms were folded tightly against his chest, as if he were holding himself together or keeping his heart from falling out in front of him. His eyes were focused on the ground in front of his feet.
It seemed like Fred wasn't even in the room.
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Rebecca pushed herself out of the chair the second Snape dismissed them, Harry following her out the door. The burning, singeing pain of every memory that had tortured her only made her move faster and faster until she was running as fast as she could away from the room itself--as if she could ever leave anything she had remembered behind.
"I can't-Slow down!" Harry gasped, struggling to match her pace.
They were both quickly covered in new layers of sweat, their shirts sticking to them and their hair plastered to their skin. "We have to get to Arthur!" Rebecca snapped, taking the stairs two at a time and somehow managing to push herself faster still.
Harry had to slow slightly, a pain in his side like a knife bringing him to a stop at Dumbledore's office door.
"Peppermint." Rebecca tried. The statue didn't move. "Lemon drops?" Rebecca stared up as the statue remained still. "L-licorice wands? I don't know!" Her voice broke and panic took over. "I don't know, let me in!"
Harry watched, unable to help, as Rebecca tried to force the statue open. She wrapped her arms around the wing of the phoenix near her head and planted her feet on the wall, using every ounce of her strength and every modicum of her will...yet she still failed.
"Rebecca!" McGonagall gasped, returning to Dumbledore's office after leaving to dress. Rebecca returned to the floor as McGonagall approached, the professor giving the password instantly.
"Is he-He...Arthur hasn't-" Rebecca's question was known by all in the room, despite the fact that she couldn't bring herself to get the words out entirely.
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, he had not. Arthur is expected to make a full recovery, albeit slowly." He levitated the book the others had used as a portkey over to the table in front of Harry and Rebecca. "I trust you remember how to use a portkey?"
Harry nodded, stepping up to Rebecca's side.
"You will both continue studying occlumency after the holidays, but for now, your professors are being made aware of an emergency that had called you both away unexpectedly. You will not return until the new year."
Harry stared at Dumbledore, ready for the explanation he had been waiting for. The explanation as to why he had ignored them so entirely. "Professor, but what-"
Rebecca grabbed Harry's wrist and looked up at him, ready to have been at St Mungo's hours ago. Even one minute longer away from the others was one too long.
Harry bit his question off and lowered his head to Rebecca, realising it was the wrong time. He lifted the hand she held and laid it on the book's cover. Their surroundings began to blur and despite the fact that Rebecca wanted nothing more than to squeeze her eyes shut tightly to quell the immediate nausea--to close her eyes as Harry was--Rebecca kept them open for the signal that they were arriving at their destination.
Rebecca pulled her and Harry's hand free when it was time and they landed in the wet, snow-covered street outside of the large building. Rebecca was pulling Harry to his feet in seconds, running ahead and slipping about on the sidewalk and icy stairs of the entrance.
The sweat on their bodies made them feel as if they had been bathed in ice, the door seeming much farther than it really was. When they got to it though, they were inside and running once again immediately.
The pounding of their footsteps brought about the attention of the nurse attending through the night. "Oi! Visiting hours are over!"
"They're with us, Jordie." Molly's voice was hoarse, though she tried to brighten her face at the sight of Harry and Rebecca. "They're with us." She repeated, opening her arms and holding both children against her chest, stroking the backs of their heads. "Oh my! Did Albus have you run here?"
"Arthur?" Rebecca asked, ignoring the question to their appearences.
"Arthur is doing well, better to be expected." Harry slipped out of Molly's other arm, allowing the maternal figure to cup Rebecca's cheeks with both of her hands. "He asked about you just before he fell asleep a little while ago."
Harry looked around the hallway, each door looking just as identical as the one before. "Where are the others? They got here, didn't they?"
Molly nodded, bringing her hands away from Rebecca's face to hold one against the back of both twin. "They're all right down here." Outside of the room the others were waiting in, Molly paused before opening the door. "Arthur's quite tired, so they only saw him a moment. Everyone's a little...rattled."
"What do we know?" Harry asked, though his question remained unanswered.
Ron had heard their voices in the hall and he opened the door to lessen the misery inside. The second the others had their eyes on Harry and Rebecca, they were pulled into a nearly-endless stream of embraces, caresses, and questions.
Fred pushed his way to the front, wrapping his arms around Rebecca tightly before looking down and kissing her desperately. "They've said the only reason dad's alive is because you two knew what had happened. H-he would have bled out." Fred closed his eyes, his heart beating as it should once more. When they were apart, Fred felt as if he were breathing after flying too high--that there wasn't enough oxygen and that his body was shutting down slowly. Now that they were together though, he was certain that wasn't anything they couldn't handle. "You saved him."
Rebecca broke at the words, not wanting Fred to know what they had done but not able to live with him not knowing the truth. "No, we didn't." Tears ran from the corners of her eyes.
"How could you not have?" Fred demanded, wiping her tears with his thumbs.
Harry stepped away from Hermione and Ron, both not happy with him moving away so quickly after they had been reunited. Harry, though, knew it wasn't fair to have Rebecca be the only one speak up. "Because...because we were the snake."
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