Marooned - Fred Weasley

Chapter 37: The Hog's Head

"And he killed a basilisk, with the sword in Dumbledore's office," said Neville excitedly, trying to add more texture to the picture of Harry as a wizard who's fought the Dark Arts. He had, but didn't brag about it, which is why none of these idiots knew about it.

"It's true," said Ginny, and she looked at Harry, giving him a tight nod.

"Third year, he fought off about a hundred Dementors at once," said Ron, sending the room into an impressed gasp.

"And last year," said Sarah, looking at the crowd, "He really did fight off Voldemort in the flesh."

"Wait," breathed out Harry, "Look, it all sounds great when you say it like that, but the truth is, most of that was just luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time. And I nearly always had help."

"You didn't have help with Voldemort, Harry. Or with the Dementors either," snapped Sarah quickly, looking at him intently, letting him know she's got him still, and that she believes in him.

He took a deep breath, pursed his lips a bit, like he was grateful but he still shook his head, "I didn't those times, but-"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" blurted Smith again, he was really relentless, wasn't he?

"Here's a thought, why don't you shut your mouth?" grumbled Ron angrily at him, probably stung from the use of the particular word, 'weasel'.

"Well we've all turned up for him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," said Smith, pointing an accusatory finger at Harry.

"That's not what he said," erupted Fred's voice on Sarah's right.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" enquired George, pulling out a long metal object from their bag.

"Or any part of your body really, we're not fussy about where we stick this," said Fred, Selena and Sarah exchanged a half-worried look, biting down their laughs.

"Yes, well," said Sarah, clearing her throat, "Moving on, the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a general agreement in the room. But Harry still felt like he needed to say something, "Just, know that all this stuff sounds great, but, facing it in real life is not like school. In school, if you make a mistake, you can just try again tomorrow. But out there, when you're a second away from being murdered, or watching a friend die right before your eyes- You don't know what that's like," everybody looked down from him, and he sat down.

Sarah let out a long breath, feeling her eyes sting, because she did know what it was like, her mind flashing Crouch's sneer illuminated by that torch and her mother's cold grasp, her father's hollow gaze. She started turning the ring again, settling her breathing, but her throat seemed to close up. Sarah couldn't breathe, overwhelmed by it all, and now panicking because she was in a room full of people expecting to find stability and confidence in the group before them.

Fred slid his chair closer to her, took her hand in his. "Breathe, Sarah, I got you," he whispered discreetly against her ear.

She felt her lungs expand again, the whole room coming into focus, Fred squeezed her hand gently, and she turned it to hold his firmly as well. She needed a few seconds more of the reassuring grasp he had, while Hermione and Harry continued talking to the room. Fred didn't need anything to know what was going on, and that simply was amazing to her. He was...

"Let's get started, then," said Hermione with a hand clap, ruffling through her bag to bring out a piece of paper.

"You okay, McCauley?" asked Fred from her side, his voice pulling her back to reality.