Dancing In The Storm •Fred Weasley•

Chapter 3

•This story takes scenes from the Harry Potter series. I want to make it clear that I don't own those scenes. That's owned by
J.K. Rowling. Thank you•

~Sirius~

I made sure to walk in the shadows of Magnolia Crescent.

I had came here in hopes of catching a glance of Harry, which is exactly what I was getting.

Peering around the corner of the alleyway I stood in as a dog, I watched Harry drag his trunk and empty owl cage across the sidewalk.

He collapsed against a low wall, right across from me. I took a step closer, watching the look of panic take over his face.
I wanted nothing more than to walk over there and comfort him, but I'd look insane, and probably would get arrested again.

But I didn't need to go over there, as Harry seemed to have found me.

He stood from his spot against the wall, taking a step closer to me.

"Lumos," Harry muttered, light coming from the end of his wand.

His eyes met mine, shocking his to where he fell backwards.

A deafening bang filled the air, and soon, the all to familiar Knight Bus was separating Harry and I.

I listened to Harry's conversation with Stan, and watched them take off.

'Until we meet again, Harry."

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~Claire~

I frantically rotated the vase of roses for the hundredth time. If it was any more to the right, then the light from the window bounced off of the glass vase. Any more to the left, and the roses bright red color seemed to look a shade darker.
But at this angle, it seemed almost perfect. Yet something wasn't right.

I bit my lip as my eyes landed on the withered rose at the side. It's petals drooped low, it's color a dark brown.

These roses were the same roses that Sirius had once hung around my four poster bed at Hogwarts, and the same roses I clutched in my hands at our wedding. They were also the same roses that held a charm. The roses lived as Sirius's and I's relationship did.

The roses were not doing as well as they were before that Halloween night. Several roses hung low. Brown petals gathered around the vase.

There were fifteen roses in that vase. Three roses were bare, their petals among the ones around the vase. Two were dropping over the side of the vase. The ten others stood tall and bright.

It was kind of weird that I was flipping out so much over the vase, when the flowers were what needed touching up. But those flowers meant so much to me.
Sure, a third of them represented the flaws in my marriage, but the other ten flowers proved that Sirius and I's relationship was still strong.

I considered that amazing considering Sirius wasn't aware we still had a relationship.

Moving on, the reason I was so frantic, was because I was having an important guest.