Marooned - Fred Weasley

Chapter 78: Counting Battalions

"It's fine. It needs a day or two for the spell to do the trick," she explained softly, nuzzling into his neck. She knew he was holding back, he would have tackled her into a corner of a the couch, because that was usually what Fred needed when he was sad, feeling out of place, tired, but she had to get away, for once in her life come to terms with what happened to her and not brush over it so quickly.

How had she found the strength to stand up to Bellatrix? Why was she petrified as soon as she stepped back inside the manor? How much damage hearing her two best friends get tortured before her eyes had done to her? Were they okay? She planned on asking them as soon as she regained her strength to stand. Maybe it wasn't something she was ready for yet. What she needed was exactly this, retreating in Fred's arms instead of within herself.

She turned to him, the cold air was making his eyes watery, and she felt she had to squint so she wouldn't get any sand in. He had changed, wearing at least two layers, a brown t-shirt and a borrowed plaid shirt from Bill and it fit him well since they were built about the same way, Fred and George were a whisker taller, something Bill will never live down. The shirt wasn't buttoned, the collar and both sides were flapping softly against him from the wind.

She was staring, the way she often would when he was sleeping, in such a way she felt her cheeks turn pink because he was awake and he'd noticed. He wasn't feeling like joking, nothing but exhaustion reading on his face and for some reason she was grateful for it, he had caught in this intimate moment that belonged to her and simply murmured, "What's wrong, Sarah?"

How much she loved this man was beyond reason, beyond words, she hoped it was written all across her face and he could see that in this specific moment nothing, and she meant absolutely nothing, was wrong. Instead everything was right, and she convinced herself of it when she closed the small gap between them, connecting her forehead with his. "Nothing. Just hold me, please."

And he did. For a long a time. An arm draped around her shoulders. A long silence neither wanted to break, he kept her glued to him. Counterbalancing the horror they had to sit through last night.

"You're brilliant," she mused, her voice trailing off into a gentle whisper. "And thank you," she pressed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, "For checking in," another kiss higher over the creases of his smile, "Getting through all this with me. I know you didn't ask for sentimentality right now and I'm definitely not used to it but it's happening, I can't help it—"

Fred stopped her rambling by bringing a hand up to her face, "Doesn't mean I don't like it. Keep going."

After a small pause she spent gathering her thoughts again, she continued, "I think I feel a bit guilty for having such a safe space to run to in times like these."

He let out a small sigh that indicated she'd voiced out some of his own thoughts that he hadn't dared to do himself. "Me too."

"But at the same time, I don't care. Because I don't know what I'd do without you. I'm not one for expressing my feelings, but I've had a lot of time to think these past hours alone out here. I was watching the waves, reaching the shore. There were a few minutes with no wind at all but, and they still crashed onto the sand. Like it's inevitable for them to come back to it. And it sort of made me think how beautiful it is. For something you lose to inevitably come back to you. For every bit I've lost...it's come back to me in so many different forms, in a beautiful found family, the best friends I could have asked for, but most especially, you. You see that troubled sea out there? Unstable waves. Meeting an unwavering shore, for evermore. You and me. Isn't it the most beautiful thing in the world?"

With her last words, she felt droplets on the hand she kept on his chest. For a second she looked up at the sky, trying to spot the gray clouds but it wasn't raining. "Oh," she breathed, "You're crying, Freddie, I'm sorry—"