16 | D R E A M S

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•••
we all fall down;
we life somehow.
•••

   So they told her everything. Remus was Lynnea's godfather. Sirius was Harry's. Both unable to take care of them, one caused by his fury problem, as Lynnea called it, making Remus laugh, the other one because he was locked up in Azkaban for a crime he never committed.

   Lynnea fell asleep with the photo of her family still in her hand. After Dumbledore left, she went upstairs to the room she inherited during summer. Taking some clothes out of the cupboard she had left behind here, she lay to bed and was pretty sure, that she'll stay awake breaking her head over all the things she'd heard during the last couple of hours, but sleep told her different. She drifted away ridiculously easy as soon as her head met the soft pillow. But her confusing dreams of green lightnings and creepy high-pitched laughter didn't last long.

   In the middle of the night she was woken by some muffled angry voices sounding through the floor. Grabbing her wand from the bedside table, she got up silently, heading downstairs on tippy toes. The yells came out of the kitchen, a familiar voice was screaming at the top of his lungs, it was a wonder that Mrs Black didn't join the choir.

   Carefully Lynnea pushed the door open, recognising a kitchen full of people; Harry and the Weasleys had arrived, and Fred, who had turned his back on Lynnea, was barking at Sirius the moment she stepped in: "Easy for you to say so, you aren't out there risking your neck!"

   For a second Sirius looked like he was about to hit Fred, but then the door fell shut behind Lynnea and they all turned her eyes on her. Fred was jerking around, letting out a sigh of relief, before he took two huge steps, closing his arms around her.

   "Don't ever do that again, Lynnie!", he mumbled. "We thought Umbridge got you!"

   Leah flushed red from head to toe, startled by the sudden of this situation. Just wearing a low cut strap top and shorts, she cursed herself for not throwing something else over her too naked body. She looked at Sirius, who suspiciously cocked an eyebrow, and even though Fred's warm embrace was not that unpleasant, she just begged him silently to let go of her, what he - after what seemed like an eternity - gladly finally did.

   "What happened?", she asked, looking at the small group.

   "Dad got attacked while doing something for the Order", Ginny explained, her voice shaky. "Harry - he - he somehow saw it in his dream -"

   "It wasn't a dream", Harry cut her short, and Lynnea's eyes immediately snapped on him, staring right into his face, into his eyes, which were so similar to hers that she was wondering how she ever could not notice. "I - well, I don't know what it was, it was like I was there."

   "Let's just sit down and have some butterbeer", Sirius calmly said, but his eyes were wide awake, still not stopping to glare at Fred, who kept standing close to Lynnea. "Kreacher!", Sirius suddenly yelled, making them all jump. But the house elf didn't appear. "Well, he's probably busy crying into my mother's old underwear", he snorted. "Accio butterbeer!"

   Seven bottles came floating out of one of the cupboards, landing on the table, as they sat down. Lynnea just took a sip every now and then to give her hands a job. It was an unpleasant silent laying over the kitchen. Lynnea could barely take her eyes from Harry, and Fred couldn't take his from Lynnea, who was continued being stared to death by Sirius. The hours crept awfully slow, until at almost five a.m. Mrs Weasley entered through the kitchen door, telling them Mr Weasley was alive and in St Mungo, where the healers did everything to help him.

   George and Ginny jumped up hugging their mother, Ron poured down his butterbeer, and Fred gave a shaky laughter, once more pressing Lynnea to his body in a tight embrace.  Her head again caught fire, and Sirius was back at staring.

   "Let go of her, before she'll keep this color", George laughed, walking over to Fred, punching his arm. When Fred let loose, Lynnea saw a petite shade of pink on his cheeks and hastily looked away.

   "So why didn't you return?", he asked, and Lynnea stared at her feet.

   "I can't tell you right now", she muttered. "It's a long story, and I - I just can't."

   She expected him to complain, but to her surprise he just shrugged and said: "It's okay. But if you want to talk about it, you know where to find me."

   "Sure, in the middle of the biggest chaos, I guess", she chuckled.

   "You know me well." As he spoke, Lynnea looked up at his face, her eyes immediately locking with his, sinking into them. She felt her cheeks heathen up, but was unable to break the eye contact. A smirk lay on his lips, causing the green freckles to sparkle even in the midst of the gloomy basement. Nobody spoke a word, and the others' chatter was vanishing in the background, until she felt like it was just Fred and her -

   "Hey lovebirds", George's voice snapped her out of a disturbing daydream, where Fred grabbed and kissed her fiercely in front of everyone else around. "I for sure don't want to interrupt this private moment, but it might escaped your notice, Fredward, as you was busy drowning in those pretty green eyes, that Mum wants us all to go upstairs."

   She watched Fred turning pink, as she herself flushed crimson, and George laughed, obviously highly amused.

   After thanking Sirius and Harry nearly a thousand times, Harry left the kitchen with his godfather. Lynnea also went up to her room, still Fred's touch lingered on her skin.

   "I won't fall for this git", she muttered to herself, but every time she closed her eyes, Fred's face was the only thing coming to her mind, until she groaned loudly and pressed the pillow over her head, as if it would shelter her from these kind of thoughts. And when she finally fell asleep, it was him; of all the things she could dream of, it was his stupid face, close to hers, until their lips met.

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