PURIFY : Fred Weasley

26: Deserted

I can't help but think about Bronwyn's speech. Mostly, I wonder what she meant by Fred and the detention. He and George have been quieter in class, and their pranks have slowed since the incident before winter break. I want to get to the bottom of it.

It's difficult to look into without drawing attention to myself. After hours, I'm trapped in a room with Professor Snape, studying the components, and practicing the steps without the actual ingredients. Professor Snape has me go again and again until my hands develop calluses. This leaves me no time to track down Fred, or George, and try to interrogate them.

Interrogate isn't the proper word. Ask is.

I try to gossip with Robbie, and either she doesn't know, or she knows and says nothing. I try to read her face, but she's always got this glassy look to her as if she is on the verge of crying. I want to ask her about that too, but I know that she is very private. Any questions about why she doesn't have friends anymore, and she completely shuts down. Maybe if she trusted me more, she would divulge. Maybe if I was a better friend, I would know the truth.

Already, I know what I'm going to waste my Felix Felici on. It might just be trying to track down Fred. Unfortunately, that might not be for several more months. After all, it is only February. Late February, but February, nonetheless.

In the Great Hall, I get a letter from my mother. It's the first I've heard from her in weeks.

Larkin,

Your father does not know that I am writing to you, but I hope that you will understand. After talking with your father and Landry, we've come to the agreement that you will be welcome back into our home. Your father has disciplined your brother. All you have to do is agree not to see the Weasley boy again (even if you continue to see him in private, which I wouldn't mind).

I just want us all to be happy once more.

Lots of love,

Mummy

P.S. How is school going? Are you still taking Defense Against the Dark Arts? I know you'll be an excellent dueller one day.

Robbie looks at it. I realize that I've never seen her get a letter.

"It's rubbish," I rip the letter in two and shove it in the pocket of my cloak.

"Still, it must be nice to be acknowledged by your parents," she shrugs. I can see the corners of her lips turning into a frown.

I want to reach across the table and squeeze her head. Instead, I push my plate away. "Yeah, course. They'd probably hex me if they knew we were even talking. Not my Mum. She'd like you."

"Really?" Robbie seems to perk up. Her spine straightens, and she brushes a strand of curly black hair out of her eyes.

Probably. My Mum has never shown much hatred towards Muggle-borns. Maybe none at all. Then again, neither has my father outwardly. It's hardly the point though. "I'd imagine so."

Eventually, we leave the Great Hall. With my letter torn up in my pocket, I watch as Fred and George get their stuff and leave as well. I slow my pace, and Robbie follows suit until we are walking side by side with them.

Fred shoves his left hand deep into his pocket. He looks over at me, then turns his head.

"Hey, George," Robbie winds up on the other side of them, pinning the boys between us. "I had a question for you, about some extracurriculars. Can I speak to you alone?"