Ophidian | Fred Weasley ✔

26

Chapter twenty-six:

( W H O   A R E   Y O U )

Sirius Black was dead. Just as Artemis Rosier had predicted, it was all a ploy to lure Harry in and Harry couldn't help but blame himself for his Godfather's death. If only he'd listened to the dark haired witch, this wouldn't have happened; he had not only put his friends at risk but had also been the reason for his Godfather's death. So when Dumbledore said the next words, Harry lost it.

"It wasn't your fault, Harry." Dumbledore said calmly.

"IT WASN'T MY FAULT?! IT WAS ENTIRELY MY FAULT! I TOOK MY FRIENDS TO A PLACE WITH HIGH RISK! I RISKED THEIR LIVES! I GOT MY GODFATHER KILLED! IF ONLY I'D LISTENED! I SHOULD'VE WAITED, I SHOULD'VE WAITED FOR A SIGNAL!" Harry screamed his face scrunching up in agony as he finally fell back into the sofa with his hands covering his face.

"A-Artemis she told me — she warned me but-but I didn't—" Harry stuttered after some time having calmed down.

"I know." Dumbledore replied back calmly.

"You know?!" Harry looked bewildered.

"Yes I do, Harry. And it wasn't neither yours nor Miss Rosier's fault. It was mine, for I should have looked after you better."

"H-how did Artemis know? I'd just gotten the vision when she came out of nowhere — she couldn't have known unless I told her and I didn't. What if she's with them? The only people who knew about the plan were the death eaters—" Harry rambled coming up with absurd scenarios.

"Miss Rosier is not a death eater, Harry. She wouldn't have tried to stop you if she was." Dumbledore replied again in the same calm manner but Harry got all the more frustrated with that answer.

"Then how?"

"That is not my story to tell, Harry. Miss Rosier is rather...special. There are things about her that I myself do not know and it is for her, and her alone to figure out."

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It had been a week since Artemis had been transferred to St. Mungo's after she fainted at Hogwarts. Seven days of her being unconscious and Fred Weasley was losing his mind. Madam Pomfrey had tried to heal her to the best of her abilities but she failed, post which the dark haired witch had been transferred to St. Mungo's.

Fred Weasley had been at the Burrow with his twin eating lunch when Tonks had brought the news of Sirius' death. He had been devastated, but he felt the breath be knocked out of him when he heard his girlfriend lay unconscious and unresponsive at the Hospital. His first thought had been that she was struck by a spell while at the Ministry but was more confused to hear that she hadn't had the chance to go with them at all.

"Still no signs of waking up?" He heard George Weasley asking. Fred meekly shook his head.

"They don't know what's wrong with her. All her bodily functions are in place and there doesn't seem to be any injury." Fred replied back meekly recalling what the healers had said— 'There's nothing for us to heal, at least not physically. Her mind is what's been blocked off and isn't responding to any treatments. It's up to her to wake up.'

George Weasley took in his twin's ragged appearance—face hauntingly pale, dark circles underneath his eyes, hair unkempt with a frown etched onto his features. Both the twins had missed the dark haired witch and her brooding, sarcastic goody-two shoes self but it was clear which one of them missed her the most.

He'd often find his brother looking longingly at their picture from the Yule Ball which had found a place on his desk beside his bed. He wrote to her diligently every moment he could and would be upset whenever she'd take more than a day to send a reply back. He could see the love and longing in his brother's eyes clear as day, honestly anyone with a pair of eyes could; the love they had, it was the kind you'd read about in muggle stories and could only hope to find. For his brother to miss her so dearly only for him to finally meet her when she'd been hospitalized and wasn't responding to treatment, it must have taken a toll on him.

George Weasley let out a sigh.

Fred Weasley was in the middle of his shower when he heard loud banging on the bathroom door. He had refused to leave his girlfriend's side for three days straight when his mother had finally had enough and sent him to get a shower and a set of new clothes.

"What?!" Fred shouted irritably.

"She's awake!" He heard his twin shouting back.

Fred Weasley finished the fastest shower of his life and apparated to St. Mungo's with his twin. His heart thudded in his chest in an erratic fashion anxious to see Artemis awake. He all but ran to the reception leaving his twin behind.

"How may I help yo—" The receptionist started, twirling a piece of her light brown locks in between her manicured fingers looking at the redhead from under her lashes, only to be cut off by him.

"Artemis Rosier. 18. Admitted for head injury." Fred cut her off hastily. Her eyes widened in shock for a second before she nodded and took out paperwork.

"Please sign here and mention your relationship with the patient here." She said slowly. Fred did what she told hurriedly.

"Can I go see her now?" He asked impatiently. The receptionist looked bewildered again by his impatience but nodded nonetheless.

"She's in room 3—" She started but Fred had bolted off before hearing it.

"I'm sorry about him." She heard a voice say and she turned to look at an exact replica of the man who had been before her just a few moments ago. She blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. But he still stood in front of her. He finally winked at her and ran just where the other man had.

I did not sign up for this. She thought as she shook her head.

George Weasley ran after his twin who had suddenly gained the powers of an Ompilic runner. That's the muggle sports tournament that happens every four years, similar to the Triwizard cup, except nobody's died in that yet. It was a pretty big deal in the muggle world  he'd heard his assistant, Verity talking about it— The Ompilics.

He shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts about the Ompilics and focused on running after his twin. He saw a familiar head of red hair running into the dark haired witch's room. He ran in after him to see his mother, Molly Weasley by her bed holding her hand and his twin frozen in his spot by the gate as he gazed at his girlfriend. So naturally, George interrupted.

"Gosh, you're really gonna make googly eyes at each other? Right in front of me?" He scoffed jokingly.

But Fred didn't pay him any heed. He stood staring, mesmerized by the dark haired witch, her green orbs finally staring back at him. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as she spoke first.

"Who are you?"

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Dun dun dun...