Chapter 21
The days passed so much quicker with quidditch through, Rebecca found. Even though the time usually set aside for practise was filled in with examination preparation, the final touches to Buckbeak's case had been done over and over until nothing more could be and the date had been sent to Hagrid a few days earlier: Buckbeak's final hearing and sentencing would take place on the last day of exams.
As exams loomed closer and closer, Hermione was pushed to new levels of elevated stress. Rebecca found her asleep with a book in her hands or asleep at her desk more often than she did in her bed!
Rebecca was in a similar state of exhaustion that hadn't let up in weeks, her sleep only growing more disturbing in the time that had passed. Her dreams felt more like the one she had before the incident in the Forbidden Forest their first year with every night that went by. Whatever had been holding the looming, overwhelming feeling of these dreams seemed to have run out.
Now, Rebecca saw flashes of Hogwarts or the woods. All meaningless, all brief, momentary glimpses. Words accompanied the images though: "Swing. Double. Rat. Dog. Dark. Friend."
Hermione and Ginny had noticed the increase in the repetitions of those words, whether all together or fragmented. Whispers had turned to the occasional speaking, the occasional raised voice speaking one of the words. Nearly every morning Rebecca was holding her head.
The weekend before exams were to start, however, brought with it a new bout of terror for her roommates. Behind Rebecca's eyes, the glimpses were staying longer and longer while the bursts of pain that usually accompanied them and then faded, remained.
Hermione still sat at her desk, not nearly finished for the night, when Rebecca caught her attention. The chant of words was pouring out of Rebecca's mouth in a constant whisper. "Swing, double, rat, dog, dark, friend. Swing, double, rat, dog, dark, friend. Swing..."
Ginny sat up in her bed, curious as to why Rebecca hadn't said them once and stopped.
Rebecca thrashed in her bed, growing louder. "Swing, double, rat, dog, dark, friend. Swing, double, rat, dog, dark, friend..."
"Hermione?" Ginny called, swinging her legs out of bed and standing up.
"I know." Hermione turned in her chair, waiting for Rebecca to fall farther asleep. "It'll-it'll pass. it always does."
But this occurrence was difference than any before--It didn't pass. The minutes seemed to pass slower than usual, Rebecca's movements only growing harsher and her voice more strained. Deciding to go against her previous advice about not waking Rebecca when she was like this, Hermione knelt on her bed and laid a hand on her shoulder.
Rebecca's eyes opened, startling Hermione back a step. Inside, Rebecca saw no more meaningless flashes. Instead, she saw only a distorted scene of Ron lying in a pool of blood. A horrible, frightening shout left Rebecca and she began to shake and jolt.
"HERMIONE!" Ginny shouted out of fear, out of worry. "What do we-"
"What's going on?" A voice demanded from outside their room with an accompanying knocking.
"Go get McGonagall!" Hermione shouted to Ginny, reaching over Rebecca to try and catch a flailing limb and still her. "Now!"
Ginny threw the door open and pushed through the growing crowd forming in the hall, breaking into a sprint as soon as she was able to. Angelina heard the commotion and hurried through the tunnel left by Ginny, stepping into the room everyone was whispering about.
Katie shooed students away from the immediate doorway--all that she could do, really--and went to try and help Hermione as Angelina was, though none of the girls really knew what to do.
McGonagall was woken up at the frantic pounding of her door that immediately made her suspect another break in. Instead of Dumbledore, however, the professor found a red-faced, panting, incoherent Ginny who grabbed McGonagall's arm and led both of them in a hurry back to Gryffindor Tower, all while launching into an explanation where the only words understood were "seizing" and "screaming."
"Miss Weasley!" Professor McGonagall spoke harshly, though only to break the panic. "Who are you talking about?"
"Rebecca, professor."
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"If you do not sleep in this room, return to your beds at once." McGonagall's voice left no room for disagreement, no opportunity for arguing. Angelina tried to stay in the name of a friend's solidarity, but the sharp look from McGonagall sent her out of the room as well.
Rebecca was still in her bed once more, her skin feverish and the occasional word from before escaping her quietly.
"The subconscious premonitions, Miss Granger?"
Hermione hadn't taken her eyes off of Rebecca once and she still didn't, answering McGonagall without looking. "Yes, I think so."
"Are they always like this?" McGonagall asked, lowering herself to Rebecca's bedside and holding a hand to the very-lightning scar that seemed to follow trouble around at every corner. The absence of scolding in regards to Hermione's dishonesty months earlier when the term had first been asked about did not go without Hermione's notice.
"No." Hermione shook her head. "Never like this. She talks in her sleep a lot, but lately she repeats these words-"
"She tosses, too." Ginny said quietly. "Shouts sometimes, cries others."
"It was the worst it's ever been tonight though. She was..." Hermione was quiet a moment. "She was jerking around like she was being electrocuted and screaming like she was having a fit. She's never opened her eyes before."
Professor McGonagall nodded. "Escalation is apt to happen. When a person finds the future, especially while they are asleep, they are open to dark, unknown forces."
"She's doing this on purpose?" Ginny asked with a hint of growing-anger.
"Not likely." McGonagall laid a hand on Hermione's arm. "You said that she doesn't remember the dreams?"
"She says she doesn't remember what she sees." Hermione answered truthfully, though the adult could sense the half-truth.
"And do you think that she is telling the truth?" Professor McGonagall asked without judgement. Loyalty to one's friends could never be punished.
Hermione looked away from her friend, feeling as if she were betraying her somehow. "She says that she doesn't...but I don't think that's true."
Professor McGonagall took out her wand and rest it on Rebecca's forehead a moment, murmuring an enchantment designed to lower the receiver to a depth of sleep impenetrable by outside forces. "She'll sleep now. I will take her to the Hospital Wing for Madam Pomfrey to hear about this, Albus too."
Hermione and Ginny moved to grab their jumpers, planning on accompanying them. "We need to get Harry."
"Ron and the others, too." Ginny added.
McGonagall levitated Rebecca's body up, pursing her lips. "I will alert him and Mister Weasley, all of them, in the morn." Rebecca's body followed McGonagall across their bedroom. "I know it seems hard, but try to sleep. It will help you and help pass the time."
Professor McGonagall opened the door to find lingering girls in the hallway who gasped or covered their mouths at the sight in front of them: A student still and being guided from their bed after screaming. "To bed, all of you!"
"Is she alright?" Katie asked. Angelina's face had lost all colour, herself having lost all ability of speech.
"What's happened?" Another student from behind her asked with a tremor.
"Please." Angelina managed.
Minerva McGonagall knew what had to be done, but it would haunt her for every breath she had left in her. "It appears that Sirius Black jinxed an item recently given to Miss Potter. The item has been confiscated and relocated, she shall spend a period of time in the Infirmary out of an abundance of caution."
A sour taste filled Minerva's mouth as she and the Lost Potter traversed the empty, silent corridors of the castle. She had lied to her students, straight through her teeth. A house elf was summoned with instructions to wake Albus so he could be with Poppy before she and Rebecca arrived and the order was dispatched immediately.
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"How long has this been going on?" Albus enquired at the end of McGonagall's retelling of the night's events. "Premonitions wouldn't manifest at the strength the girls spoke of over night...It would take time, build up, grow."
"We can only speculate." Minerva answered.
Madam Pomfrey thought the whole business was touched with darkness. Anything that left a student as lifeless and still as this had couldn't be anything but. The sleep Minerva had sent Rebecca to was one of the deepest, leaving only the slow rise and fall of her chest.
"At least the other students are dealt with." Albus sighed, running his fingers through the ends of his beard. "And as for her friends, I think-"
"They will be told the truth." Minerva interrupted. "Anything but will prove more dangerous, in this case."
Dumbledore considered this and nodded once. "But the importance of sparing the ears of the public of the truth will be pressed. Poppy? What will we be able to do to encourage sleep at a deeper level?"
Poppy regretfully left Rebecca's bedside to look through her stores, searching for a solution in the ingredients and potions. "Sleep...sleep...sleep..." Plucking a few things out and laying them at the foot of the bed for further consideration. "It will need to involve something derived from a sleep-potion. That is certain. The effects will be similar to the enchantment, Minerva," Poppy looked to the professor as she finished. "Though not as strong. Deep sleep is hardest to maintain in periods of great stress."
The adults spoke on through the night as morning was so close. A pot of tea or two later, the day began to creep in through the windows.
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For the first time in a long time, Rebecca felt herself climb out of the trenches of sleep without pain in her head. There was no throbbing, no residual ache left unexplained, no stomach-turning caused by the agony. She simply woke up with a stretch and left her eyes closed as she reached for her glasses to savour the absence of discomfort.
Her glasses weren't where they always were, however. Instead, her hand collided with something solid that knocked over with a clatter and a bang that immediately opened her eyes and shocked Rebecca entirely. Even blurry-eyed and sans glasses, she knew her surroundings.
"Miss Potter!" Madam Pomfrey called, hurrying over from the chairs McGonagall and Dumbledore still sat in. "It would be much appreciated if you did not wreck the place as soon as you awake!"
Rebecca sat up and scanned the other beds, finding them all empty. "Is everyone okay? Why am I here?"
Dumbledore chuckled, easing himself into the very seat he had occupied the night before beside her bed. "Your friends are quite worried; you gave them quite a fright last night. But they are fine."
McGonagall sat without Dumbledore's humour, beginning the conversation. "You have been having strange dreams, have you not?" Rebecca fumbled. "Answer honestly, child!"
Rebecca turned her eyes to her hands. "Yes."
Professor let out a sigh, finding that the frustration she held onto gave way to sadness. An explanation was begun, one that entailed a description of the depths of sleep and how some magic-persons--Rebecca now included in this group--opened themselves up to other forces while sleeping and that that was the explanation for so many things.
"I'm not though!" Rebecca couldn't help a quiver of emotion from reaching her voice. She had finally woken up without a headache, the day was supposed to be a good one. Not one where she woke up in a hospital bed and felt as if she were accused of having done this to herself. "I'm not asking for anything, I just go to sleep!"
"Yes, dear." Madam Pomfrey, laid her hand on Rebecca's knee. "That's all that has to happen. We don't mean that you are doing this on purpose, not at all."
"No, not at all." McGonagall echoed. "But the point has been lost, Ginny and Hermione said that you have been repeating a string of words. 'Swing, double, rat, dog, dark, friend.' Does that mean anything to you? Anything at all?"
Rebecca rolled the words around her head, finding nothing familiar. "Nothing."
Dumbledore leaned forward, looking at Minerva and giving her a discreet shake of his head. The truth was obvious in that statement, she did not recognise the words. "Do you remember anything from your dream last night?"
Rebecca blinked, lowering her gaze once more. "Not really."
Finding a seed of holding-back, Dumbledore pressed on. "Not really or not at all?" The truth was what he needed, though McGonagall looked to him curiously at the desperation in his voice. Desperation was not a quality usually associated with Dumbledore.
Rebecca's mind dragged the most haunting remnant of the night before to the space before her eyes. Ron, clutching his arms around himself as a puddle dark as blood spread out around him slowly. No further answer came from her, it was too horrible to put into words.
"Oh my!" Madam Pomfrey flinched at the echoing thud of her door being thrown open roughly. The slapping footsteps that followed made her hold her hand to the bridge of her nose, mutterings of 'bloody elephants' accompanying her as she stepped away from the bed to intercept the swarm.
Minerva leveled her gaze at Albus as he went to push further, silencing the man's attempt before it could even truly start. There was a time and place for questions and in the wake of family was not one. "Calmly, children. Calmly!"
Hermione and Ginny--as the two who had been privy to the fright they had passed onto the boys as soon as possible--were the first two to make contact with Rebecca. Their arms wrapped around the still-slightly-confused body of Rebecca as both Hermione and Ginny took a shoulder to hold their heads to.
"What happened?" Harry demanded. "Was it-"
"Sit down, Potter." Madam Pomfrey waved her wand so that chairs were dragged over for all the new arrivals. "Take a breath before you need a bed of your own."
Harry's face flushed a bright red, stark opposite to the white from moments before, because he was filled with such a wash of rage at being told to sit down as the first words he heard when he woke up was that his twin was in the infirmary for...no one even knew.
"I'm alright." Rebecca said, patting Hermione's back gently. Ginny knew that Rebecca would be alright, but Hermione had had a single doubt when she was levitated away from their room. A doubt that had plagued her every thought since then. "I didn't even know I was in here 'til I woke up, honest."
"Is someone going to give us a bloody answer or are we to guess all day?" Ron snapped at the silence continuing from the adults.
The explanation was not what he, or any of them, had expected.
"So..." George was the first to speak afterwards, as the others had all been sufficiently dumb-struck. "So she can see into the future when she sleeps?"
"Yes and no." Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Subconscious premonitions only show what could be. The future is a constantly changing entity."
"But how do we stop it from happening?" Hermione asked. "Like-" Her voice cut off and could not begin again.
"We're going to try a unorthodox approach, at first." Madam Pomfrey gestured to the vial at the bedside table. "Subconscious premonitions happen in the shallower realm of sleep, so to avoid them a deeper realm must be reached. The best news, children," Poppy gave the most reassuring smile she could. "Is that they most commonly fade after maturation. This won't be forever."
Dumbledore stood quickly, something occurring to him that needed to be written down and stuffed into his pocket for later consideration. McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey excused themselves from the immediate area to give them all a few minutes of pseudo-privacy.
"I can speak to snakes and you can see the future." Harry said, though it pained him to aim for a normal conversation. "While you sleep, I mean."
Rebecca didn't know how to respond, not to any of them. Harry who looked like speaking caused him physical pain. Ron and Ginny who kept glancing at each other and then back to Rebecca as if they were making sure this was real. Hermione who muttered the occasional follow-up question to herself and looked to where the adults had disappeared off to as if it would bring them back quicker.
And Rebecca certainly didn't know how to response to Fred who had yet to move his eyes away from her. Similar to how you looked at home after being away for too long, or how you looked at someone who was going away for a long time, Fred seemed to be studying, scanning, memorising Rebecca intently.
"That's the breakfast bell, off you get!" McGonagall was the only one to leave the adults. Off in the corner, stepping into the enclosed doors of the back office, Dumbledore seemed to be asking Madam Pomfrey questions frantically. "Come on now, you can come back later."
"I'll wait and meet up with you guys later." Harry offered without offering. Someone would be staying behind and he felt most surely that it should be him.
"Oh no!" Ron gasped, unknowingly being the brother his own needed at the moment. "You can't stay!" He lowered his voice, though they could all still hear him. "If the girls were up late, Hermione will be-"
"Be what, Ron?" Hermione asked testily.
"Harry!" Ron whinged. Begged, really.
George sighed and stood up with a production, herding the younger towards the door. "No, you stay." He directed, leaving Fred in his seat where he hadn't moved. "We'll bring back for you two, alright?" George paused in front of Fred, watching the last of the others--still bickering--disappear out the doorway. George tilted Fred's face up to his, raising his eyebrows as if slightly scolding. George said something Rebecca couldn't hear, though it seemed to bring Fred slightly more to life than he had been.
They sat quietly, well after the echo of the doors closing had silenced. No sound escaped Madam Pomfrey's private office and none escaped either child outside until Rebecca couldn't take the silence a second longer and she had to break it.
"I'm sorry."
Fred lowered his head and his shoulders jumped jerkily, almost as if he was laughing but not quite.
"Fred?"
He only moved from his seat when Rebecca moved as if she were to get up to go to him, an idea he couldn't even fathom. Someone who had been levitated from their bed in an enchanted sleep did not get out of it until they had been given explicit permission to do so. Fred took Harry's old seat and put his head down onto his elbows, not looking up while Rebecca combed her fingers through his hair and tried to speak.
"I-If I knew how to stop what had happened-I didn't mean to make you sad or any-"
"Sad?" Fred clarified, realising that they were on entirely different pages. "W-when Harry and Ron came with Hermione this morning and she...when George and I heard you were in the infirmary, I thought Sirius Black had gotten in again. I thought that he'd come back and that this time, he'd gotten to you for real." Fred forced the ball in his throat down enough to finish his thought, a feat he wasn't sure he'd accomplish. "I thought you were dead."
Somewhere deep inside of Fred, so far he wasn't even aware he'd thought it, he realised he'd have nothing left without her. Pranks, the shop, Hogwarts, home, family, happiness...It had all been connected to her in ways he didn't understand. If something were to happen, if Rebecca were to suddenly not be apart of him, Fred wasn't sure what he would be.
Rebecca shook her head, taking her hands and wrapping them around his tightly. "I wasn't, I'm not." She wasn't sure how to comfort him best, though that's what she wanted more than anything at the moment. "Just looking...into the future. Not dead."
A sound escaped Fred, a mixture between a sob and a burst of laughter. "As long as it's 'just.'" He managed.
"Come on up." Rebecca said, moving to the side and patting the bed next to her. Fred moved without a trace of hesitation, putting his back against the bed's top next to her and finding that though the two of them didn't have to sit with their arms against one another's, he wasn't going to be the one to scoot away. "I was worried I was getting predictable, you know? Had to mix things up."
"You certainly have, haven't you?" Fred sighed, shaking his head. Every second he sat next to her he felt as if he was moving farther away from the edge of a meltdown. "Do you remember what you saw?"
Rebecca felt the click in her head, the movement she had gone for to shut off anything on her face that would reveal anything and the instant clamping down of the truth, but she pushed against it. It was Fred. "Only one thing, really. The rest was just flashes. Like photos--the muggle kind that don't move--of the smallest details."
Fred slunk lower on the bed, resting the side of his head on her shoulder. "The one thing was bad, wasn't it?" Her silence was an answer in itself, but he felt how she tensed at the question and put his fingers through hers. "I'll listen when you want to tell." He tilted his head a little so he could see her eyes. "Promise me you will if it's too much?"
Rebecca chewed at the inside of her lip. She wasn't anything if she wasn't her promises, she had always held onto that tightly. "I promise."
"Alright." Fred put his head back, leaving his hand in hers. "Madam Pomfrey said you should be able to put the draught into a tea before bed."
"She seems hopeful."
Fred snorted. "She puts off a lot of feelings, but I'm not sure 'hopeful' is one of them."
Rebecca turned her foot so it hit his leg lightly. "Be nice."
They talked quietly, finding it almost too easy to fall into the conversation with the other about circumstances that ignored everything that had happened in the last hours: Pranks, the shop, breakfast, for instance.
Professor McGonagall reentered the Hospital Wing and half-expected to see Rebecca pulling at the bit to get out, anxious to rejoin the days activities and put everything behind her. Instead, she found two calm, sheepish figures on the bed where only one had been. She joined the still-shut-in Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey in the private office and Rebecca and Fred were left to revel in the other's comfort a while longer.
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"Eat." George said, scooping eggs and sausages onto each plate he could reach. "Merlin, it's like mothering!" He thought drily. "Come on! Starvation's not going to fix a thing!"
Ron picked up a fork begrudgingly. He was hungry, after all. Hermione picked at a few things and Ginny reached for more, but Harry only moved his food from one side of his plate to the other before beginning again.
"Harry, everything's-"
"This time." Harry interrupted George's quiet attempt at comfort. "Everything ended up alright this time. What about next time or the time after that or-"
"That's life, mate." George shrugged. "Granted the two of yours is a little more complicated than most, but no one is able to know everything is going to be okay forever."
Harry thought on that for a minute and realised that the only response he had to that was childish. But, then he looked at George's eyes that were begging for him to be open with him and lowered his voice farther so that even though George was able to hear by straining his ears, there was no way anyone else could. "Why?"
"I don't know, Harry." George sat straight in his seat and squeezed Harry's leg. "It's the cost of a family, I suppose. A cost of love."
Harry thought on that. If worrying about the end of his family--of his twin--was a cost of love, he would have to pay it. Harry hadn't had his twin for too long already.
Breakfast eventually ended and their group turned direction in the corridor to return to the Hospital Wing without discussion. Harry weaved between them, dropping towards the back so that he could be beside Hermione with a semblance of privacy.
"I'd like to go to the library."
Hermione smiled. "Really? I was thinking maybe there'd be an hour or so this afternoon, a little bit of a rest honestly." She shrugged sheepishly, feeling that she might have put to much of an admission in. "It has been a little stressful, hasn't it?"
"Yes, a little." Harry's returning smile faded slightly. "I don't mean this afternoon. Let's go tonight with the cloak."
"The cloak? Why?"
It was a rare occasion that Harry felt he knew something and Hermione didn't, and the pleasure of the fact brightened him a little inside. "We have so research to do, don't we? There's got to be some information on premonitions in the restricted section."
Hermione didn't argue against breaking the rules or a late night so close to exams, she didn't even think an argument. "Genius! Yes, tonight."
Harry realised that even though he was struggling to face how deeply he had been affected by the startling wake up, he wasn't the only one who had made a life that wouldn't be possible without Rebecca in it.
He wasn't alone, not really.
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"I didn't want to move." Fred answered the quizzical looks of the three adults ages later, though before the others had finished their breakfasts and begun the walk back. He had an arm bent up behind his head and a sleeping Rebecca beside him. "Figured she needed some sleep."
"That was wise." Madam Pomfrey let a smattering of pride enter her voice, if only to keep the young Weasley on his toes. "I will have the draught prepared before tonight, rest assured. Fortunately, there is no reason for an extended stay or bedrest. She will be excused when she wakes."
"Did she say anything about what she saw?" Albus asked, drawing a disappointed sigh from Poppy.
Fred shook his head, exactly what he would have done even if she had told him minute details about whatever Rebecca had seen. "Not a word."
"That's what I was afraid of." Dumbledore's eyes grew distant and he excused himself rather abruptly.
"Fred," McGonagall began as she sat down in the seat he had occupied only a little bit ago. "I am sorry to impart this task onto you."
"I won't be a spy." Fred said, assuming where the conversation was going.
Minerva gave him a sharp look. "Then I would imagine it is a good thing I am not asking you to be one!" She pursed her lips and looked away, ashamed that she let such an outburst out on him. "It is vital that you advise the draught be taken. That is what is needed of you."
"Why? If Madam Pomfrey tells her to take it, she would."
"Yes, because the Potter name is known for doing as they are told." She was relieved to find that he grinned at that. "But they have immeasurable loyalty to their friends. That is why you must impart the opinion that it cannot be skipped or forgotten."
Fred nodded. "I will, professor."
"Good." McGonagall stood up and sighed. "I am going to compose an extensive letter to your parents to explain everything of the last day, but this will be an adjustment for all of you. I expect to hear nothing outrageous about the rest of the weekend as your exams begin Monday. Do you understand me?"
"Outrageous behaviour? Professor!" Fred gave her an innocent smirk before growing more serious. "Nothing wild. Understood."
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"Tired?"
"No." Rebecca sat up straighter. They had been lounging in the common room ever since she had woken up from her nap and left the Hospital Wing.
Harry gave her a look and checked the time. "Did Madam-"
"Yes, Mister Potter?" Harry jumped in his seat while Madam Pomfrey let out a little laugh. "Coincidence, child. Breathe before you end up in my beds." Madam Pomfrey shooed George out of the seat beside Rebecca on the couch and sat on the edge of it. "Now, the instructions are simple: You will add seven drops to a cup of tea every single night before you go to bed. I suggest just before bed because the effect will take place quickly. We're starting off on a fairly potent dosage so you mustn't forget a night--The consequences of going without such a strong repressor will be very, very bad."
"Bad?" Hermione asked, listening from the other side of Rebecca carefully to the instructions. "Worse than last night?" Ginny and Fred were in opposite chairs by the fire, though they both paled at the idea.
"Perhaps." Madam Pomfrey put the bottle into Rebecca's hand and nodded to it. "There is enough for one month in here, I will send for you before you run out. Don't you worry about that."
"Thank you, Madam." Rebecca noted that the instructions were written on the bottle's side as well. "Thank you very much."
"It's my job, dear." Madam Pomfrey excused herself from the common room.
"Alright, it's time to go our ways." George said as he stood from the seat he'd made on the floor with a stretch. ""specially with exams starting so soon."
Hermione nodded adamantly. "He's right."
Harry hugged Rebecca tightly, going as far as to leave a kiss on her cheek before joining the already-hugged Ron at the boys' stairs with George, the three of them abandoning their final part as Fred lingered behind a moment, wondering if she would offer him an embrace or if he had to ask for it.
"Going to bed without a 'goodnight?'" She asked with a trace of a tease.
"Waiting for a written invitation." Fred responded instantly. He wrapped his arms around her tightly. He found that even that many hours from the morning, there was still such a sense of relief in the action. "Good night."
"Good night." Rebecca looked up to him as they separated, the only two of their friends still in the common room. "What?"
"What do you mean 'what?'" Fred asked.
"You have something you want to say." Rebecca observed. She knew he did, she could tell by the look on his face and the twist at the corner of his mouth.
"I just-" Fred nodded once. "I do." He glanced at the bottle still in her hand. "I wanted to say that I hope that this works."
"I do too." Rebecca answered quietly. "I'm going to take it, Fred."
Fred found himself smiling a little. "I didn't say you weren't going to, did I?"
"You thought it." Rebecca gave him a little push towards the boys' stairs while she took a step towards the girls'. "I'll see you tomorrow before Hermione drags us down to the library, yeah?"
"Of course."
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<3