The kettle shrieked, breaking Artemis from her thoughts. She'd been staring out at the thick mist that hid the turbulent waters behind the fossil flats.
"I still don't understand why you make it like that," Lee grunted. His dreadlocks were askew as if he'd been running his hands through them repeatedly. Artemis assumed he'd been holed up in his room producing another Potterwatch broadcast. She didn't envy him for his job.
"It's just habit," Artemis shrugged, pouring the water into the teapot she'd already deposited bags into. The bloody house still didn't have coffee, despite how many times she'd asked Kingsley about it. She placed the lid on the pot and glanced over her shoulder at him again, "what'd I miss during my mighty slumber?"
Lee cringed and reached for a digestive biscuit to fiddle with in his hands. He puffed out a breath, then reached into the junk drawer, pulling out a copy of the Daily Prophet, "There were nine casualties. Two allies. The rest were just Muggle-born refugees."
Artemis took the paper from his hand, her eyes bugging out at the headline.
MANCHESTER MASSACRE: Undesirable No. 1's Latest Act of Terrorism!
"Bloody fuck is this!" Artemis squinted as she skimmed the article, "Rita fucking Skeeter, of course. The death of seven Muggles - Muggles!? - seems to be the latest collateral damage in a string of violent attacks headed by Harry Potter and his terrorist organization: The Order of the Phoenix. Blah blah blah, Harry Potter is a terrorist, blah blah I suck the Dark Lord's skinny prick. Christ, I want to strangle that woman."
Artemis tossed the paper onto the counter, her mood thunderous. Her stomach was turning at the vile words and the horrible picture on the front page. She rubbed at her arms, suddenly chilled. The worst part of the article had been the gruesome picture splashed across the front page, eerily motionless for a wizarding photograph. The bodies had been strung up in a copse of trees like broken dolls, too disfigured to be recognizable. Artemis would bet her life that it was the work of Bellatrix Lestrange in one of her famous rages.
"They were angry when Harry got away. It's a loud and clear message to anyone who sides with Harry," Lee spoke on an exhale, blinking and turning his gaze up to the ceiling. He looked close to tears simply talking about it.
Artemis's throat felt tight. She placed her hand over the picture, "That's why we're still fighting, Lee."
He nodded but didn't meet her eyes, "Kingsley is having an Order meeting tonight for inner circle members. I think you should attend."
Artemis opened her mouth, a protest on the tip of her tongue. She'd been avoiding committing fully to the Order for months. It was easier to lie to herself and pretend she wasn't blatantly going against her father's wishes when she turned a blind eye to the Order's inner workings. She sighed and rubbed at her neck, "midnight?"
"Always."
"I'll sit in."
Lee nodded but didn't prod her further. The two of them stood at the counter and gazed out at the tumultuous spring weather while sipping tea. After they'd finished, Artemis pointed her wand at the issue of the Prophet and incinerated it.
"I would like to start today's meeting with a moment of silence," Kingsley's voice was soft but carried over the packed room easily, "For Patrick Greene. Martha Kane. Elphaba Doyle. Frey Byrne. Tamlin Podmore. Willow Hart."
Each name rang out in the small sitting room. Eyes were glistening under the light of the crackling fire.
"Adrien McArthy. The Ministry won't say their names because they're puppets to the Dark Lord. They won't acknowledge the brave souls that have died for our cause, who have died simply because of their birth. Harmond Sheeran. Prue Brown. These are only those who died in the so-called Manchester Massacre. We didn't forget Alastor Moody. We haven't forgotten Sirius Black. We will never forget Albus Dumbledore."
Artemis's throat was tight, her eyes burning. One of those witches had been hurt and scared. And she'd been dragged away like an animal before Artemis could reach her.
Lee, who was sitting on the sofa beside her, took her hand. She squeezed back.
There were no cheers when Kingsley finished. Everyone sat stoically in their seats that had been dragged from every corner of the house to fit them all. Some people bowed their heads as if they were a Muggle praying in a church.
"Now," Kingsley finally broke the hushed silence, "Harry Potter and his friends safely escaped Malfoy Manor along with Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, Garrick Ollivander, and Griphook the Goblin, as I'm sure many of you know. They are residing safely at a location that will not be disclosed for all of our safety and his.
"Moving along, patrols have reported an increase in Death Eater activity among the Muggle populous. We believe the Dark Lord is looking in earnest for Potter and any of his allies as he builds up to some sort of confrontation. Any more volunteers for the patrols are welcome, as always. If you know of someone willing to partake, I ask you to inform me once the meeting is adjourned."
A hand in the corner shot up as if they were in a classroom back at Hogwarts. Kingsley raised his eyebrows in question. The figure stood, and Artemis recognized her as Emilie Westinburgh. She had recovered from the Transmogrifian Torture almost entirely. She only appeared a little pale and kept her hand on the back of a chair beside her to steady herself, "I'm planning to change up the rotation of the patrols, as well as the routes more regularly because of the change in dark activity, so expect busier weekends from here on out."
There were a few half-hearted chuckles.
Kingsley nodded at her as she sat down, "Another thing we need to double down on is our use of magical remedies. Artemis has informed me that our supply of Dittany is dangerously low, and she doesn't have the ingredients to make many of the more expensive potions anymore. Obviously, we can't access the Black Market with the ease we used to. I want everyone travelling in groups of three. If a serious injury occurs, one of you is to Apparate away for help instead of carrying anything more than minor healing potions on your person."
Artemis wanted to sink into the sofa's cushions at the murmurs of disquiet among the Order members. Many pairs of eyes turned on her curiously.
"That being said," Kingsley raised his voice to carry over the hushed murmurs, "I intend on arranging a foraging party to collect necessary ingredients as soon as I have the bodies to do so. Again, if you know of anyone willing to join the patrols or foraging party, please inform Emilie or me sooner rather than later. Is there anyone who has anything to add?"
The meeting went on for another hour. There were mountain trolls coming dangerously close to civilization. Apparently, there had been sightings of a large werewolf settlement moving across the country. The curse Artemis and Andromeda had unaffectionately come to call the Blue Curse was being used more and more frequently. There was a flu-like illness circulating one of the larger outposts that housed mostly refugees.
It was nearly three in the morning when wizards and witches began to disperse. A few people went to Kingsley to discuss this or that, and a few others went straight to Emilie Westinburgh. Lee began to edge from the room, and Artemis followed.
The two of them shut the door on the murmur of conversation when they entered the kitchen. Artemis leaned against the counter and began to massage her temples, "That was torture; why would you even suggest I come?"
"You need to be informed, Artemis," Lee's voice was gentle, but his face grim, "I know it's a lot to take in, but you can't be safe unless you know all the facts."
"I preferred when Kingsley told me the shortened form of everything that was need-to-know," Artemis blinked hard, but the steady pounding of her skull refused to cease. Usually, she'd simply take a Sleeping Draught and go to bed, but she didn't feel right taking from her stores when the potions could be used for more serious ailments.
There was a soft knock on the door, followed by a ginger head poking inside. George grinned, "I'm hiding from Mum. She was angry that I even came tonight. She still claims Fred and I are too young for this stuff."
Artemis smiled weakly. Lee snorted, "Merlin help anyone who stands between Molly Weasley and her pups."
"Are you calling me a dog, Lee?" George raised his eyebrows innocently as he edged into the kitchen and closed the door.
"More of a bitch, really."
Artemis's hand that had been rubbing at her forehead fell to cover her mouth as a surprised laugh escaped. George had barely walked two steps towards Lee, before the door swung inward with much more drama.
"Are we having a party in here?" Fred sauntered in and closed the door.
"Something like that," George mimed strangling Lee, wrapping his hands around his friend's neck and shaking gently.
"Ooh, didn't know you were into that sort of thing," Fred grinned and leaned against the counter. He threw Artemis a knowing look, "Your influence, Williams?"
"Of course," Artemis met his look with a challenging one of her own, a sly smile spreading across her mouth, "I have to maintain my reputation, don't I?"
It occurred to her that the twins and Lee hadn't been at Hogwarts for her sixth year when she'd been at the height of her infamy. She had never been one to be passed around, but if one listened to the rumours, they wouldn't think so. According to a large group of seventh year Ravenclaws, Artemis was 'quite wild.' For members of the house that prized intelligence above all, the descriptor was rather lacklustre. Emma, Ginny, and her had quite a laugh about it all.
The memory was bittersweet without Emma to laugh with.
George and Lee were shoving at each other with the ease and good humour of brothers. Finally, Lee pushed him away by laying his hand flat on George's face and pushing. George was still giggling when he came over to Artemis and wrapped his arms around her middle from behind, squashing her to his front and putting his chin on her head.
"Ah, yes," Fred chortled, "the infamously terrifying Artemis Williams."
Artemis smirked and snapped her teeth at him, "Bold words to say to a witch that knows how to vanish your bones from your body."
Lee cringed and pretended to gag, "Do you remember when Lockhart vanished Potter's bones in fourth year? That was positively foul."
As he spoke, Lee turned and began rifling through a cupboard. He was pushing aside various canned goods that hadn't been touched in what looked like a century.
"You think it was foul? You didn't even see it up close," George accused, "his arm looked like a Liquorice Wand."
"Aha!" Lee crowed, ignoring his friend's rebuttal. He turned and brandished a bottle, "anyone fancy a Nightcap?"
Ogden's Old Firewhisky.
"Sweet Christ, no," Artemis could taste the flavour without even taking a glass, "Never again."
"That sounds like a story," Fred had moseyed over to Lee and joined him, opening cupboard doors looking for glasses.
"One that ended with Emma, Ginny, and I iller than I'd ever wish to be for the rest of my life. I think it's past this Healer's bedtime," Artemis extricated herself from George's arms and turned to face him, "I suppose - "
"I should probably leave too," George took hold of her hand and smiled at her, "walk me out?"
Artemis nodded and began to lead him from the room.
"Losers!" Lee called, but he was too busy laughing with Fred to care all that much.
George snorted and closed the door behind them, shaking his head, "I don't know where they find the energy."
Artemis's reply froze in her mouth. She looked to the left, where the hall opened into the sitting room, then to the right, where the hall led to the stairs. Instead of heading to the sitting room, she tugged him towards the stairs, "Come on, we never have time to talk."
"I'll try to pretend this doesn't read like you're propositioning me, Williams," George joked, but his palm had gone clammy in hers.
Artemis squeezed his hand and rolled her eyes at him over her shoulders, "I'm not bringing you to my lair to seduce you, George. You act like being alone with me is a death sentence."
"Feel free to refer to me as a supporter of Capital punishment."
Artemis couldn't stifle her laugh. She was still chuckling when they reached the landing and she opened the door to the far right that led to her small bedroom. It wasn't personalized or all that special. She had a bed and a nightstand and a chest of drawers that she kept her minimal amount of clothing in, and that was all.
George dropped her hand as he stood in the doorjamb and examined the space. His eyes took in every detail. She felt self-conscious when he took in the rumpled sheets on her bed that she never found the time to make, "Your room is very ... "
"Tiny?"
"I was going to say clean," George shrugged, "I lived in the same room as Fred for most of my life and shared space with blokes for the rest of it."
"If your room above the shop has a layer of dust over everything and suspicious stains on the walls, I will not be visiting after this is all over," Artemis levelled him with a suspicious look.
"Are you insinuating that there is a possibility I wank all over my walls?" George exclaimed, looking disgusted.
"You said it, not me," Artemis laughed. She took a seat on the edge of her bed as there were no chairs in the room and patted the mattress beside her, "I'm not going to bite you, George."
"You said that when you asked me to dance at the Yule Ball, and I'd say you definitely did something," he grumbled but took a seat beside her awkwardly.
Artemis shoved at his shoulder, and he fell onto the bed, his legs hanging off the side. She rolled onto her side and grinned at him, "I don't recall doing anything nefarious at the Yule Ball with you, Weasley. Did I enrapture you with my beauty?"
She expected him to laugh, but his gaze was inscrutable. He reached out as if to move her hair out of her face before stopping and retracting his hand, "Something like that."
Artemis felt her cheeks warm to match the pink patches on his cheekbones. She reached out and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it over his eyes playfully, "Tell me more about how I captured your heart; I'm ever-so-curious."
George's shy grin was nothing short of adorable, "I don't know exactly what happened. You just sort of came up to me and announced that you wanted to dance with me, and no one had ever really done that before. Of course, you also knew it was me. As much as I love Fred, it grates on the nerves to be seen as one and the same."
Artemis nodded. She'd never been likened to Apollo much aside from looks. They shared the same hair and eyes and delicate elfish features, but their personalities were impossibly opposing. A thought struck her, "That night you took me to Essex, Kingsley thought you were Fred. Does that happen a lot?"
George's grin turned a little wistful, "Our own Mum sometimes struggles, which is quite funny, but it hasn't happened since the accident. We're finally no longer identical."
His voice was bitterly sarcastic in a way the twins rarely spoke.
"People don't get Fred mixed up with you quite so often, do they?" His responding frown was answer enough.
"You never did," the line between his eyebrows eased slightly, "you didn't even care about all that. You just wanted to beat us in quidditch. I always appreciated that."
"For what it's worth, you are better than him," Artemis groused. George's laugh made her smile. She liked how he made her smile and laugh and feel better when she was with him, "But yes, it started with my competitive streak. Of course, I couldn't help but notice how much I liked your laugh and your arms and how you blushed whenever I winked at you or did something stupid like that."
"I did not!"
"You did!" Artemis argued, wriggling closer so they were shoulder to shoulder and inches away from each other, "I would smile at you or wink at you or whatever, and you'd get all flustered!"
George snorted and turned to look up at the ceiling.
"It's true."
"Shut up, Williams."
But a smile was playing at his lips. She'd barely noticed, before he was scooping her into his arms and hauling her against his side. Her stomach flipped when he buried his face in her hair, and his breath danced across her neck.
A wicked thought flashed in the back of her mind. She reached out and slipped her hand beneath his jumper, splaying her fingers across his warm stomach. She felt his breath hitch, and she grinned.
"I do things to you, Weasley," she breathed into his ear, "Admit it."
George's hand closed around her wrist, and he groaned, "Artemis."
"Stay the night," she whispered.
His entire body stilled.
"I - I just mean to sleep, obviously!" She felt her cheeks burn to a crisp and hurried her face against his neck, laughing nervously, "I just like having you near."
"All right," his voice was the tiniest bit hoarse.
"Okay!" Artemis struggled up and out of his arms, "the washroom is at the end of the hall. I'm just going to brush my teeth and change."
The way his eyes lazily followed her as she scrambled over to the dresser and out the door made her stomach burn pleasantly. When she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, her eyes were bright, and her cheeks flushed. She quickly changed out of her jumper and denims into a large shirt that had probably belonged to her brother at some point and a pair of cotton shorts.
Artemis had just finished brushing her teeth when a knock sounded at the door. George smiled awkwardly and rubbed at the back of his neck, "Is there a spare toothbrush around here?"
She glanced at the sink that had three cups and three toothbrushes, "Only mine."
"That works."
Artemis couldn't help but feel some sort of sick smugness when she watched him brush his teeth with her toothbrush. After a minute, she realized that she was staring at him like a muppet and scuttled away down the hall with her clothes clutched at her chest. She felt like a giddy, disobedient child.
She was sitting at the edge of her bed, twiddling her thumbs, when George returned. He reached down to take off his socks and then fixed her with a quizzical look as his hands rested in his belt. Her throat went dry, but she held his gaze and raised a brow challengingly.
He unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers on the floor to the side, then pulled off his shirt and let it fall in the pile. Artemis couldn't help but take in his exposed skin. He wasn't overly muscular, but his body wasn't pudgy from sitting on his arse all day. His arms were most definitely her favourite. They were toned from quidditch and working with his twin on their creations in their workshop.
"Done eating me alive, Artemis?" George's words were playful, but his cheeks were dark with embarrassment.
"Oh! Sorry!" Artemis giggled and slunk under the covers, staring at the ceiling and lying on her back.
George slid in beside her and whispered, "Nox."
The room went dark and they weren't even touching shoulders.
"So, come here often?" Artemis tried. She hadn't expected the reaction she got.
George began to laugh harder than she'd expect, the sound happy and bright. When he finally got ahold of himself, he shifted, and a hand ran over her stomach, leaving butterflies in its wake. He pulled her back against his front, banding his arm over her abdomen.
She felt safe and warm. She also felt the entire length of his body pressed against her. She wiggled her backside to just make sure that ...
"Artemis," his arm tightened.
"Right, sorry. Goodnight, George."
"Goodnight, Artemis."