12 Grimuald Place was a living, breathing creature, in its own right.
Or, at least that was what Fiona thought while she lay awake throughout the night.
The house had a strange and unwelcoming aura about it. The air was thick and musky. Each breath made her crave to be anywhere else. And throughout the night the house whispered to her in moans and creeks. It was as if the residence was locked in another time, visible but somehow dislocated from the here and now.
There was an evil rooted in the foundation of the home. To the perceptive eye, it told tales of the storms that echoed within its keep, not as a warning, but more as an advertisement for the right wizard to come.
The Weasley family, and any person dedicated to fighting You-Know-Who, was not the type the house deemed the right type. Fiona couldn't understand why they had made their headquarters a place that could easily be the home of You-Know-Who himself.
When her mind began to wander, it seemed to find Fred, and despite herself, the thought that he was in the same home made her feel at ease. Throughout her sleepless night, the thought of him, and his infectious laughter, became an anchor of hope in a place filled with despair.
She didn't sleep much that night, and when Ginny and Hermione began to stir from their beds they offered to escort her downstairs for breakfast, but Fiona returned their gesture by turning over in her bed and pretending to sleep. If she had it her way, she would remain in that bed until her father finished work and brought her home.
Charlie Weasley had other plans, however.
"I know you're awake," He hummed as he pushed the door to the bedroom open with his back. His arms were preoccupied with carrying a large tray with enough food to feed a small family. "I brought breakfast," He said as if she couldn't smell the temptation sitting beside her. Fiona didn't move. She was perfectly content to continue her farce sleep.
But as Ginnys' bed whined under Charlies' weight, her stomach began to rumble, and with a great deal of reluctance, Fiona sat up.
Charlie clapped his hands together and leaned to the tray of food he had sat on the nightstand beside her bed. "Good," he cheerfully said as he took her plate and put it in her lap. "Thought you might be more comfortable eating up here," he said as he placed a fork in her limp hand. "Normally a lot going on down there...nothing you'd want to trouble yourself with," he added casually.
Fiona couldn't help but feel as if Charlie was taking great efforts to keep her separated from Fred. And while that comforted her, there was still a small, irritating part that wanted to go down to where he was.
"George said we're cleaning the library today," she muttered as she scraped her fork around the plate. Despite her grumbling stomach, and the appeasing smell in front of her, she didn't have much of an appetite.
"They are," Charlie nodded as he guided a filled fork to his mouth. "Not you though. It's not your job," he added. Fiona frowned at that.
"Why not me?!" Fiona had been dreading the task since George told her about it, but now the exclusion filled her with defiance.
"We brought you here to protect you. What's it going to look like if your dad comes to get you and you have a massive chunk of your arm missing?"
"It's a library! I think I can handle dusting off a few books!" Fiona snapped. She dropped her fork on the plate.
"Books can be dangerous," Charlie muttered grimly. "There's a lot of nasty things that even I don't want to touch. Things have been growing here before the Order got established," he added in a voice that served more as a warning than informing.
"Where is this house? And What exactly is the order? And who are you protecting me from?"
"This house is old. The previous owners weren't exactly good people. The Order is the only organization dedicated to fighting you-know-who. And if you have to ask who we're protecting you from then you're dumber than I thought." Charlie said with no shred of patience left.
Fiona opened her mouth to argue, but Charlie quickly cut her off. "Shut it and eat your beans!" He ordered.
Mumbling her grievances, Fiona shoveled a fork of beans and fried egg into her mouth. The sudden substance in her empty stomach made her oddly sick.
"So what am I supposed to do all day?" She asked as she gulped down the warm food. Charlie shrugged.
"You have to retake your DADA exam, yeah? We could practice for that," he offered as he scrapped the last bits of food from his plate. Fiona nodded with a very displeased expression. She stabbed her fork at the plate, not caring if she was aiming for food or not.
"Fleur could help?" Fiona offered. "She was a champion, after all."
"'Fraid not, kid. Fleur and Bill are off to work for the day." Charlie said with a shrug, but he watched as an uncomfortable frown formed on Fiona's face. "C'mon, I'm a great teacher!" He boasted.
As the day dragged on at an absurdly slow pace, Fiona and Charlie remained locked in Ginny's room, reviewing notes she had made from what Remus had given her weeks ago. Their studying was partially broken by the constant shouts and screams coming from the floor below, where the rest of the house was cleaned.
It became abundantly clear to Fiona that whatever was taking place below them was more than a simple dusting of books. On more than one occasion she suggested they help with the cleaning efforts for practice, but each time Charlie denied the suggestion, each time with growing curiosity.
It was midway through the day when a rapping knock came at the door to the bedroom. "Charlie," The man said as he entered the room. Fiona recognized the voice from the night before. The man had been there when Fiona arrived at Grimmauld Place. The man looked past Charlie, narrowing in on Fiona for a moment before turning his attention to Charlie. "Buckbeak hasn't eaten in a few days," he said in a bored and dull tone. "Could you have a look at him?"
Charlie glanced at Fiona, and then back at the man. "Yeah," he said, and then turned to Fiona, "Just review those hexes. I'll be back in a bit."
Fiona listened as one set of footsteps left the room. She could smell the familiar sour stench that was so often on her father. The stranger watched Fiona with judgmental eyes.
"So," He finally said, after a long moment of observation. The tone of his voice seemed apathetic, but his continued presence in the room proved otherwise. "You're the seer." It wasn't a question.
"I might be," she said. "Who are you?"
The man looked amused for a moment. "Snuffles," he said with a grin.
"Seems like something I'd name a cat," Fiona replied. To her surprise, the man chuckled.
"Seems more fitting to a dog," he said as if sharing an inside joke that she wasn't privy to.
"Still a shit name," Fiona retorted, displeased by this man's enjoyment. "What does the Order need a drunk for, anyway?"
The right corner of his lip curled upward, and his look at her shifted as he appraised her.
"We all have value, even a drunk like me," he mused in a drawling voice. "And even a bigoted brat like you."
Fiona's bushy brows knitted downward at his statement.
"Big-" Fiona's voice faltered. "I've dealt with more discrimi-"
Snuffles didn't allow her the chance to continue. "Boo hoo," he mocked, as his sinister laughter bounced off the walls of the room. "You know pitty," Snuffles snarled. There was a loathing laced into each word, it was a hatred Fiona had never known before. "You don't know the first thing about discrimination. How could you? With your coddled life?"
Fiona stepped back. His words were as frigid and brutal as winter winds.
"Do you have any idea what he would do if he came after you?" Snuffles asked. He didn't wait for Fiona to respond. "He isn't going to make a cuppa and discuss your dreams. He will kill you. And he'll kill anyone in his way." Snuffle's voice was shaking with anger, and for the first time since arriving at 12 Grimmauld Place, Fiona felt true fear.
Despite Fiona's cowering demeanor, the man continued, stepping closer into the room. "Charlie is watching you, knowing that if it comes to it, he will have to give his life to protect yours." The man's voice was low and menacing. "Not many would agree to that job," he breathed, taking another step closer. The smell of whisky grew stronger.
"Remus agreed to it. Remus agreed to it without hesitation. He was willing to give up his life if it meant protecting you. And how did you respond?"
Even without sight, Fiona could feel his eyes penetrating her. "He...He's a werewolf," she meekly muttered.
"Werewolves aren't nearly as dangerous as Death Eaters," Snuffles scoffed. "Or at least they shouldn't be. If I were you, I would be thanking your lucky stars you have someone like Remus in your corner."
With what dignity Fiona had left, she mustered a nod. There was a vulnerability in this conversation she hadn't experienced in her life. Fiona had always known her disability gave her certain disadvantages in life, but all her life, Cedric had been by her side, to illustrate her surroundings for her. At that moment, she was truly blind.
"And the Order," Snuffles continued, "They see you as nothing more than a tool to be used. You're nothing but a pawn to them."
"Aren't you part of the Order?"
The man let out a howling laugh. "Hardly," Snuffles huffed. Fiona could physically feel the displeasure emanating from the man.
"I don't have those dreams anymore," Fiona said flatly. "The Order knows I'm useless."
Snuffles made an 'ahhh' sound and reshifted himself slightly. "The Order knows that...but Voldemort," Fiona flinched at the name, but he continued, unbothered. "Doesn't. To him, you are a threat. The order is keeping you alive. Voldemort would have you killed."
"They should have kept Cedric alive!" Fiona hissed. Her toxic words trembled at her brother's name, but she refused to allow the tears to flow. "He would have been more useful than me!"
"War has a way of taking the best of us," his words seemed to lack the scathing contempt with that statement. "It leaves the cowards and the unworthy to fight the battle." He said with such sorrow, and for the slightest moment, Fiona felt regret for her callus behavior towards him.
"You fought in the war before?" She asked with hesitation. Snuffles nodded, with no recognition that Fiona was blind.
"Things were different then. We thought it was all black and white. The Order and the Death Eaters...We didn't know it was so blurred."
"Blurred?"
"We thought we knew who to trust. But things got messy. People started dying. A lot of people died. I lost family, and friends I thought I could rely on."
"And do you still believe in the Order?" Fiona asked hesitantly. The Order had fought this war before, and while many had suspected they won, it was now clear that was not the case.
"I have to," Snuffles replied solemnly. "If I don't, then everything I've done -everything I've been through- will have been for nothing."
Fiona sat quietly, listening to the man as he spoke his mind. She understood there was a purpose behind his words, and that the real message wasn't so much of a warning as it was a desperate plea.
"You arent the first person to lose a brother to this war," he said in a voice just above a whisper. It sounded as if the emmision pained him to speak aloud, and his voice grew quieter with every word. "And I don't think you'll be the last."
The two of them sat with those words for a long while. Each time Fiona forumated a response, it became lost in her throat. She clapsted her hands together tightly, and wished she could apparate back to her own bedroom, or to the Hufflepuff Common Room.
"Are you afraid?" Snuffles suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had lingered between them. Fiona shook her head with certainty.
"No," she whispered.
Snuffles laughed, and Fiona could hear his footsteps retreating towards the door. "Neither was I," Snuffles said with a sigh. "The first time this happened."
The door clicked behind him and she listened to his fading footsteps through the halls of the house. Fiona waited until she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore before exhaling. In his absence, her mind began replaying and analyzing their conversation.
She wasn't afraid.
She had been afraid for most of her 6th year, and that fear had done nothing to save Cedric. She couldn't be afraid.
She sat in the bedroom, stewing in her toxic thoughts for what felt like an eternity, when, finally, she decided she needed to prove her bravery by venturing into the house that was the perfect symbol of fear.
She carefully navigated her way past the broom and carelessly tossed quidditch gear. She stumbled over a pile of books, cursing her stubbed toes as she did so.
The doorknob creaked as she twisted, and she felt as if she was escaping a prison, even if it was one she had created for herself.
Her path was narrated by the creaking sounds of the home as she walked through the hall, each footfall screaming at her, but Fiona ignored the resistance from Grimmauld Place, and forged forward. With her hand against the wall, she walked until the wall met a corner, leading to a door.
Fiona entered the first room she found.
If she had thought Grimmauld place had smelt stale before, it was nothing compared to the room she found herself in. The room smelt damp and rancid, completely void of anything living. asside from the smell, the room was suffocating in a way Fiona didn't understand.
As she turned to leave the room she heard a rumbling from the far corner. She quickly spun on her heels to face the sound, instinctively reaching for her wand, only to realize she had left it in Ginny's room.
"Fred?" Fiona asked cautiously, though, despite herself, there was a hope to her voice.
"Fiona."
With a shaky step, Fiona stepped towards the voice.
It couldn't be.
"Fiona what are you doing here?"
"I-Is that really you?" She stumbled for the words as she rushed towards the voice. She fell over every obsitcal on the way, but her determination and desire was much greater than any momentary falters. As she fumbled her way towards him the man let out a small chuckle.
"Of course it's me," he said, there was a teasing mannor in his voice, and Fiona felt her eyes well up with tears.
"I knew you couldn't be.." Fiona managed to blurt before surcombing to sobs. She took a final step into his arms, and suddenly, she was safe again.
"Cedric"
***
I intended this chapter to be a lot longer, but I really struggled with how to fit everything into one chapter cohesively. So I settled on this. Chapter 50 will finally bring Fred back, so just hold tight...
Sorry to leave y'all on a cliffhanger