I didn't talk to anyone the next morning, and I skipped breakfast to return my library books. As I was walking though the entrance hall, however, the Diggorys were just leaving the Great Hall, and they spotted me immediately. The moment I made eye contact with Amos, I wanted to turn and dart the other way, but before I could move, he ran up to me and wrapped his arms around me, sobbing heavy tears into my small shoulder as I tried not to drop my library books on his feet.
"Oh—you were the one! The one he cared about so much—he'd always talk about you—always—always—" Amos wailed, gaining the attention of many passing students. I glanced awkwardly in Cedric's mother's direction, and she gave me a warm smile.
"He always spoke very highly of you, Lainey," she told me in a soft, kind tone.
I bit my lip, my eyes darting between Cedric's mourning parents. "Yeah, well, that's not really what I want to hear right now—but—er—thanks... I'm...sorry—about your loss..."
She put a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder, and he reluctantly pulled away from me, wiping tears from his red eyes.
"S-sorry," he stuttered unable to look at me. "Hope to see you again..."
With another warm smile from Mrs. Diggory, the two of them walked away to leave Hogwarts. To leave the place where they had seen their only son dead.
Struggling to ignore the scratching in my throat, I trekked up to the library, where I would return the large pile of books that I was wielding. Since the term was over, the library was mostly vacant except for Madam Pince, the librarian who stood behind the front desk.
"Hi," I croaked as I placed the large pile of books onto the desk. I cleared my throat and forced a smile as she slowly looked up at me.
"Returning books, are you?" she asked in a tone much kinder than usual.
"Um—yeah," I managed to say as I quickly averted my gaze from hers.
Sighing, she took each book and logged it in her records with a magical quill.
"Woes of Werewolves, Defensive Spells, Jelly Jinxes..." she muttered, reading off each title as she went. Finally she got to the last book: "Quidditch Through the Ages."
As she stared down at her record log, her eyes widened and she looked up at me. "Cedric checked out this book."
I glanced up timidly, looking between her and the book. "Yeah—er—he gave it to me..."
She pursed her lips, eyeing me with sympathy before pushing the book back toward me. "You can keep it then, dear."
My mouth parted as I stared down at the book. I wanted to take it—to have something that would remind me of Cedric—but then...what did I really want to remember about Cedric? How he played me on? How he let his friends mock me, but then tried to kiss me in a cupboard? How he nearly cheated on his girlfriend with me, but then got mad at me when she found out about his feelings for me?
"That—that's okay," I stammered, shaking my head. "I don't want it."
Before she could say another word, I hurried out of the library, ignoring everyone I saw in the corridors. For the first time since Cedric's death, I knew I was actually going to cry. The tears were finally about to come—finally about to flood my face—but then, as I was walking down the stairs to the second floor when someone stepped in my way and wouldn't let me by. Blinking back the water in my eyes, I looked up at his face to find it was not at all whom I'd expected.
"If you want to harass me, I'm warning you now that I will hex you down this staircase," I stated, stiffening my posture as I glared down at him.
"Oh—I'm not here to harass you—really," Jeremy Reeves said sincerely. Though he was my least favorite Hufflepuff, everything about him reminded me of Cedric. I remembered them talking together, laughing together (at me), playing Quidditch together—
"What is it, then?" I prompted tautly.
"I—I wanted to apologize—for the way we treated you—all of us. All of...Cedric's friends..." he said, trailing off as he stared past me. "We shouldn't have been so mean to you—I mean, who didn't like Cedric?"
I narrowed my eyes at him, pondering my response. "Well, thank you for apologizing."
"Do you—accept? Do you accept our apology?" he urged, staring up at me earnestly.
"I don't think that Cedric should have had to die for you to realize that how you treated me was wrong," I replied curtly. His mouth fell open as he fumbled for a response, but I didn't give him time to blabber before I scurried down the staircase.
Walking away, I knew that would be the last time I ever saw Jeremy Reeves, and it was. This was different from the last time I'd seen Cedric, right before the third task, when I thought I'd see him again. This goodbye with Jeremy, though hostile, somehow felt much more resolved than my last goodbye with Cedric.
∆
After another somber week at Hogwarts, the students finally went home on the Hogwarts Express. I'd never been more relieved to leave the school; I'd never been more relieved to leave anywhere. I was dreading two months away from my friends, of course, but every part of me longed to be with my family again. They wouldn't remind me of my mourning, because they wouldn't understand it like the other students at Hogwarts did. It would be better that way; it would allow me to forget.
I hadn't spoken to anyone much in the past week, though I thought they all understood. There hadn't been much laughing or smiling at Hogwarts, and the aura of misery seemed to plague everyone, even those who hadn't known Cedric. Though she attempted to be strong, Cho Chang cried during almost every meal, and it made me feel incredibly guilty about having ever wanted to take Cedric from her.
What had surprised me almost more than Cedric's death was the fact that Draco Malfoy hadn't harassed me about it once. I'd been expecting his harassment—almost craving his harassment, because of the sense of normalcy that it would bring. But...it never came. He didn't speak to me once over that last week of school, and that was just another fact that had added to my midnight crying-into-my-pillow sessions.
I walked onto the Hogwarts Express alone, ready to spend the rest of the ride in silence, but as I was looking for a compartment, someone came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.
"I told you, Astoria—" I stopped talking abruptly when I turned my head and saw that it was Fred Weasley standing next to me. "Oh—hey. Er—where's George?"
"Helping Ginny with her trunk," he replied simply. His face was set in a neutral expression: unreadable. He and George hadn't seemed nearly as glum as the rest of the school over the past few days, though they weren't joking or pranking as usual, which was enough to show they were mildly grieving.
"And why aren't you helping Ginny with her trunk?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Because I wanted to come find you, obviously," Fred said, his lips bunching into a crooked grin. "You may have been able to avoid me for a week, but I'm not sure why you thought you'd be able to get away for two months without saying goodbye."
I looked down to hide my smirking lips. "Do you want to find a compartment, then? Er—that Ginny and George can join us in...when they get here..."
"Is that what you want to do?" he mused lightly. "I thought you'd want to go snog romantically in one of the lavatories."
I actually snorted, the first hint of a genuine laugh that had erupted from my throat since the third task. "I thought I told you that I'm never kissing anyone again, Weasley? What makes you think that you would be the exception?"
He shrugged, sliding open the door to an empty compartment. "Who else would it be?"
"Well, I would have chosen George if you hadn't forced Angelina upon him," I joked as we both entered the compartment. We sat on either side, and I propped my feet up on the seat next to him. "So I guess I could settle for you."
Fred put both hands behind his head relaxingly as he studied me. "Was Diggory second choice also, then?"
I sighed, fiddling with my hands in my lap. "Cedric's gone now, Fred. You don't need to hate him anymore. Both of you were just my friends. Can't I have more than one friend?"
Fred's lips moved back and forth as he contemplated his response. "No—I believe you can only have one."
I rolled my eyes at him before tilting my head back. "So difficult, Weasley. Honestly."
"You knew when he died, didn't you?" Fred asked, his face hard in a serious expression. "You saw it."
"Not...exactly," I stammered staring at my feet. "I knew that someone died... I've known that someone was going to die for weeks...like this cloud that covers my brain..."
His brow crinkled as he started intently at me. "And it hasn't gone away, has it?"
I shook my head, my lips pressed together. "Not yet. On the day of the third task, before we went down to the maze... I prophesied, like a Seer. I don't remember it, really, but everyone who heard me said that I predicted two people I loved would die..."
"And you think Diggory was the first one?" Fred questioned skeptically.
"I—I'm not sure... I've been trying not to think about it," I admitted sheepishly. "I just can't believe he's really gone—I don't want to believe he's really gone."
"Well, of course not. You—loved him," he said, his nose scrunching bitterly. "Love's a powerful thing, Fitz."
I shook my head, my eyes finally meeting his again. "I didn't really love him, though—only the idea of him. To think that someone so much older and cooler than me would like me... He was really a jerk, to be honest. I feel bad about saying that now, though—now that he's dead. I do miss him in a horrible way..."
Fred dropped his hands, folding them on his knees as he leaned toward me. "He didn't really care about you though, Fitz. You deserve better. You deserve someone who will love you for all of your strangeness and dorkiness. And your fickle-third-year-ness."
"Fourth year now, Weasley," I bantered, nudging him lightly with my foot. "But—you're right, I guess. I do deserve better."
Fred opened his mouth, as though he were about to say something of importance, but before he could utter a word, the door to our apartment burst open.
"Oh there you are," George greeted as he stepped into our compartment. "I was looking in all of the lavatories to see if you two were snagging."
I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Really, George? Why aren't you snogging Angelina? Hm?"
"Oh, Angelina's with her girlfriends—move your legs, Lainey—"
"Potter probably thinks so..." we heard someone drawl from outside of the compartment. We all turned to see that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were stalking by, looking particularly menacing.
"Now what do you think they're doing?" Fred asked as he sat up straight.
"Can't be good," I muttered, putting my feet onto the ground as Fred and I both stood.
"Shall we check it out, then?" George inquired, looking between the two of us. "Or would you two like me to go check it out so you can snog—"
"Just move, George," I grumbled, pushing past him while trying to stop my lips from curving upward.
The three of us entered the corridor of the moving train and stealthily followed the Slytherin boys. I could hear Malfoy ranting about Harry, and it made me want to hex him from behind. They stopped right outside of a compartment, the three of them standing arrogantly in the hall as they jeered to whoever sat within. We were close to them, now, only a few compartments down when one of the doors burst open and Colin Creevey jumped out.
"Hey guys!" he greeted cheerily. "Mind if I take one more picture of you before the summer? I'm going to make a collage of all of this year's pictures!"
"What will you call it? 'Lainey Fitzroy's third year at Hogwarts'?" George joked, nudging me as I sent him a scowl.
"Well, I was actually going to call it 'Me and Lainey's third year at Hogwarts', but I'm not actually in any of the pictures...so I think your idea is better! Thanks Fred!" Colin enthused, snapping a picture of the three of us before shutting the door to the compartment.
"Why does everyone think I'm Fred?" George complained as we continued down the corridor. "We don't even look alike!"
I tried very hard not to laugh, as we were now approaching the three smug Slytherins.
"When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts?" Malfoy was sneering as we walked up behind them. None of the three dimwits even noticed. "I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!"
I could see through the glass of the compartment that Harry, Ron and Hermione sat within, all sharing the same expression of animosity.
"Too late now, Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back!" Malfoy jeered, his toady goons snickering along.
I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I glowered at Malfoy. As my chest filled with rage, I reached for my wand, and the twins also reached for theirs.
"Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well—second—Diggory was the f—"
An explosion of spells boomed around the three Slytherins, different beams blasting from wands in all directions. My ears rang from the deafening bang of the spells, and my vision remained dazed from the blinding light that had coincided. We all blinked a few times, our eyes coming back into focus to find that all three Slytherin boys were lying unconscious on the floor of the compartment. Above them stood Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all with their wands out, just like Fred, George, and I.
"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," Fred said matter-of-factly as he stepped onto Goyle and into the compartment.
"Good thing we did," I commented, staring down at the three jinxed-ridden boys. "Wouldn't want to miss a chance to jinx these goons."
George stepped into the compartment, trodding on Malfoy as he examined Crabbe's gross face. "Interesting effect. Who used the Furnunculus Curse?"
"Me," Harry said as he slipped his wand back into his pocket.
"Odd," George said airily. "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor."
Ron, Harry, and George began to kick, roll, and push the unconscious Slytherins out of the compartment as I attempted to drag them by their arms. Once the three of them were lying in a jumbled pile in the corridor, I was about to go join the Gryffindors in the compartment—until the wails of Ashley Pucey echoed through the hall.
"Crabbey!" she cried, hurrying toward us to take a look at her tentacle-faced boy. My other Slytherin friends were not far behind her. "Oh! My poor Crabbey!"
"I think he looks better this way, honestly," was Fred's comment from within the compartment.
"Oh, someone fix him!" she wailed as knelt down on top of Goyle's torso to get a better look at Crabbe.
"Ooh, good thing Draco did not look like that when he kissed me," Astoria stated as she looked down at Malfoy's distorted face.
"Shit, you guys did a number on them," Harper commented as he peered over Melody's shoulder. Naturally, she proceeded to elbow him in the gut.
"C'mon, Ashley, just leave him," I insisted, tugging her up to her feet. Her face was contorted into a miserable grimace as she stared down at big old Crabbe.
"Exploding Snap, Fitz?" Fred asked, holding up a deck of cards.
"No—Fitzroy is a valued member of the Slytherin Six," Harper said, grabbing my arm.
"Yeah, so she's coming with us," Anderson concluded as he grabbed my other arm. "Ew...Mudblood germs..."
"Er—I actually wanted—"
"No, move along, Lainey," Astoria said as they all began to push me down the corridor. "These Gryffindor fools don't know how to cheer you up like we do."
"Well, I don't think you could really say that—"
"Thank God," I heard Ron say as we walked away. "Lainey always beats me in Exploding Snap..."
"You guys really don't need to kidnap me like this," I insisted as they continued to usher me down the hall. "I'd rather just go sit by myself—"
"Well, I'd rather just go fix Crabbe's face, but apparently we can't get what we want in life," Ashley snapped. "Why couldn't you have done that to Adrian, huh? He deserves it!"
"Crabbe deserved it! They were making fun of Harry—and Cedric!"
"Get over that dead guy," Melody droned as we entered the Slytherin's car. "He's gone forever and there's nothing you can do about it."
"Wow, you guys really know how to cheer me up," I snipped dryly. "Where's your murder book, Melody? I like you better when you're reading."
"Adrian!" Astoria shouted. "Stop snogging my sister!"
Adrian and Daphne, who were snogging in a booth in the corner, ignored her screams completely as they continued to smash faces.
"Let's just sit," I grumbled, hauling Astoria and Ashley into the nearest empty booth. I squeezed in between the two girls while Anderson, Harper, and Melody slid onto the other side.
"If Crabbe was here, I'd snog him just to spite Adrian!" Ashley huffed, crossing her arms.
"Yeah, no one wants to see that," Anderson said flatly.
"Good thing those Gryffindors shited up his face," Harper chimed in. "Guess they're good for something."
"So, Mudblood," Melody began as she slammed a large book onto the table. "Tell us, who's Voldemort's next victim?"
I gritted my teeth as she opened her book. "Why do you care? Want to see if you can get to them first?"
"Well," she drawled, her eyes glancing lazily at me, "if I claim his territory first, I'll have the upper hand, won't I?"
Harper propped his head up by his elbow and gazed dreamily at her. "I'll be your first follower, Mel."
Her nose scrunched in disgust. "I only take the powerful, Harper. You'll have to do a lot more than annoy me to be a worthy slave—"
"I don't see why you're all so freaked out about You-Know-Who," Astoria insisted stiffly. "He's obviously not back or coming back."
"Yeah, I'd know if he was back," Ashley agreed carelessly. "Crabbe told me his father used to be a Death Eater, so he would know, and he hasn't—"
"Wait—Crabbe's father is a Death Eater?" I blurted incredulously. "And he's—not in Azkaban?"
"I can't believe that's what's shocking you," Melody said. "I'm more astonished by the fact that Voldemort would succumb his standards to the likes of Crabbe."
"Goyle's father's a Death Eater too," Anderson piped up. "Heard him talking about it the other day."
"He must be back, then," I insisted. "Crabbe and Goyle have been talking about it—I just heard Malfoy say he was back—I saw You-Know-Who's face in my mind at the third task—Harry says he's back—I prophesied that evil would be reborn—"
"No, no, I simply will not believe it," Astoria insisted. "Can we talk about something else? Like boys?"
"Your prophecy's coming true, too," Harper pondered. "You said two people you loved would die—and one did—"
"I don't know if I loved Cedric—"
"Didn't you say you felt like someone was going to be murdered?" Anderson prompted. "Do you still feel that way?"
I pursed my lips, looking between them all. "Well...yes...but—"
"So then he's going to kill someone else you love too then, won't he?" Harper persisted. "Oh shite—what if it's one of us?"
My jaw dropped slightly as I looked around at the five Slytherins, all with their eyes fixed on me. Even Melody had stopped reading to gaze at me with her malicious eyes. Did I love them? It took three years, but I finally did consider them my friends...but did I love them? I knew I loved the Gryffindors—how could I not? They were so genuine, so real. The thought of any one of them dying was even more unfathomable than Cedric's death. But...so was the thought of Astoria or Ashley or Harper or Anderson dying... Melody was...still debatable.
"I...I don't know," I stammered. I felt a black hole of impending misery festering in my chest as I pondered the thought of this next murder. "I really don't know..."
Once I got off the train and retrieved my belongings, I went out onto the platform to search for my family. The past two times I'd disembarked the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross, all three of my brothers had eagerly tackled me with hugs. This time, however, they were nowhere in sight.
"Fitz!" Fred Weasley called from where he stood with his redheaded family.
"Come here!" George beckoned, both twins grinning fervently. Heaving my trunk along, I walked over to the Weasleys where Molly greeted me heartily.
"Oh Lainey, so good to see you again," she cooed, giving me a mother-like hug.
"Lainey, I heard you helped jinx Malfoy on the train!" Ginny enthused, instantly receiving a glower from her mother. "I mean—er—just helped Malfoy..."
"Fitz, we have some pretty exciting news for you," Fred said quietly as he and George beamed at me with avid enthusiasm.
"You're going to love it—but you can't tell Mum yet," George added, glancing over at his mother.
"Maybe you should tell me later then—"
"Where's your family?" Ron asked loudly, craning his neck to search the platform for them. He hadn't even noticed the twins talking to me at all.
"I'm not sure, they should be here," I said. "Have any of you seen a bunch of lost, blond, Muggle boys? If you have, that's probably them."
"Well, I see one blond boy," Ron noted bitterly, glancing beyond me. I turned to see he was staring at Draco Malfoy, whose mother was frantically trying to come up with a counter-jinx for the boils that one of us had jinxed onto his face.
"Wonder where Lucy is," I commented as I stared resentfully at the two Malfoys.
"Lucy? Who the bloody hell is that?" Ron blurted, his face contorted in confusion.
"Lucius Malfoy, you ding bat," Fred said, grinning at me.
"Grow a brain, Ronniekins," George said, trying to whack his brother over the head.
"I'm sure he's with You-Know-Who," Ron said as he dodged George's hand. "Harry said he saw him in the graveyard—he's one of You-Know-Who's Death Eaters—"
"Now that's quite enough," Molly interrupted hastily. "Lainey, have you spotted your family?"
I spun around slowly and then shook my head. "No, I don't think they're here. Bet my father forgot today was the day to pick me up. He always does forget things..."
"I'll take you home, Fitz," Fred offered.
"You haven't passed your Apparition test yet, though," Ron griped.
"I have a broom, dimwit—"
"Actually you don't have a broom since you broke yours during Bludger Dodger," George interrupted.
"I'll borrow your broom, then—"
"Absolutely not," Molly insisted quickly. "I will not allow you to fly around London with Lainey—that's an accident waiting to happen—"
"I'm of age now, aren't I?" Fred insisted calmly. "What are we going to do—leave Fitz here by herself?"
"Oh let him go, Mum," George said impatiently. "He's only trying to win her over."
Molly's mouth dropped slightly as my cheeks burned. Ginny had erupted in a trail of giggles, though Fred looked completely unperturbed by his twin's comment.
"Oh—fine! But you be careful with her—you hear me, Fred Weasley?" his mother demanded, pointing a finger in his face. "I do not want to hear about two dead teenagers in the Daily Prophet tomorrow—"
"Relax, woman," Fred said carelessly. "I'm George anyway—don't you know that Fred's dating Angelina Johnson?"
Molly's brow knitted in befuddlement and fury as Ginny burst out with laughter.
"He's lying," I whispered to their mother as Fred handed his bags over to George. He now stood with only a broom in his hands and an expression of giddiness on his face. "Angelina thinks she's dating Fred—but she's really dating George—but—"
"All right, all right, move along, Lainey—before Mum changes her mind," George said, pushing me over toward his twin, who was now taking his wand out of his pocket.
"Stand back, Fitz," Fred said as he held his wand to my large trunk. Without a word, the large piece of luggage slowly shrunk to the size of a peanut. After giving Fred his broom, George hastily pushed his mother along before she could explode.
"Bye Lainey!" Ginny said, sneaking in a quick hug before she followed after the rest of her family. "Make sure to write!"
"She's not going to write to us," George snorted. "Obviously she's only going to write to Freddy—"
"Oh hush up, George, I'll write to all of you—"
"Let us know if you get any visions!" Ron called to me as they continued to walk away.
"Visions? What visions?" Molly's voice echoed.
"Ron!" was the last thing I heard Ginny exclaim before turning my attention back to Fred.
"C'mon," he said, motioning with his head. "Let's get off the platform and find a spot to take off where the Muggles won't see us."
"Where's my trunk?" I asked him once we'd left platform nine and three quarters.
"Back on the platform—"
"Fred—"
He let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "Silly Fitz. It's in my pocket, of course," he replied simply, shooting me a wink.
I pressed my lips together, unable to prevent the coy smile that was forming on my lips. Being with Fred made me forget all about Cedric's passing, the prophecy, and the fog of death that clouded my mind.
Once we'd finally found an inconspicuous place to mount George's broomstick, I wrapped my arms gingerly around Fred's torso, and he glanced back at me with a mischievous grin.
"Better hold on tight, Fitz. This old Cleansweep goes pretty fast—"
I rolled my eyes playfully at him. "Oh just go al—"
My words were immediately halted when Fred suddenly lurched the Cleansweep into the air, sending us both shooting off into the dimming night sky. Tiny, speckled stars were slowly coming into focus, though their light paled in comparison to the nearly-full moon.
"It's so nice out tonight!" I called to him as we whizzed through the sky.
"Would you like me to respond to that with a joke or with something cheesy?" he asked, turning his head to look at me.
"I'd like you to look where we're going!" I insisted anxiously, clinging tighter to his torso.
"Afraid I'll hit some other wizards that just happen to be out for a late night broom ride?" he joked sarcastically.
"I dunno—maybe!"
Fred let out a loud laugh before unexpectedly diving downward, squishing me right up against his back and nearly pushing him off of the broom in the process.
"WEASLEY!" I scolded as he quickly straightened us out.
I barely heard him snicker to himself. "What's that, Fitz? I can't hear you! You want me to go faster?"
"No, no—"
He ignored me, causing our broom to go zooming through the warm June air at a rate that nearly shot me off of the back end. I rested the side of my head on his back and clung to his body with all of the strength that I had.
When we finally landed in my front yard, I let out a loud sigh of relief and staggered onto solid ground. I blinked furiously, barely able to focus on Fred's chortling face through the daze.
"We need to get you flying more often, Fitz," Fred mused as he set the broom against the front steps. "How are you going to make it onto Slytherin's Quidditch team if you can't even handle a Cleansweep?"
"Why are you so convinced I'd even want to play for Slytherin? They wouldn't let a girl on the team anyway—"
"That's what they say, Fitz, but you're one to prove people wrong," he said, taking a few steps over toward me. "Someone's got to kick Pucey off of the team—maybe his sister will. And you can get rid of Bletchley."
"You think I could get Miles Bletchley kicked off the team? He's almost as good of a Keeper as Wood! You're just hoping I'll get on the team so it's easier for Gryffindor to win, aren't you?" I questioned, raising my eyebrows challengingly.
"Well, it would be nice to see Slytherin lose..." Fred pondered. "Though, I think you're good enough that they might actually win some."
I pursed my lips, studying his face. "Well, Weasley, are we going to stand here and banter about Quidditch all evening, or shall we go inside?"
"Right, right—here's your trunk," he said, pulling the miniature suitcase out of his pocket and setting it in my palm. "Good luck with that—"
"Weasley!" I groaned as he took a few steps back from me. "You know I can't use magic—how am I supposed to fix this?"
He shrugged lightly. "I dunno, Fitz—"
"Please un-shrink it," I pleaded, placing it down in the grass by the front steps.
"I dunno if I should," he sang obnoxiously.
I pulled my wand out of my pocket and pointed it harshly at my trunk. "I'll do it, then—and I'll get expelled—"
"Only joking, Fitz," he said as he approached me with his wand in hand. He swiftly transfigured my trunk into its proper size, and then flashed a grin. "Anything for you."
While trying to contain the blush of flattery that burned on my cheeks, I heaved my trunk up the front steps of our little house and shoved my way through the front door. The entire house was surprisingly dark, only a dim light coming from the living room, where I could hear a fire brewing.
"You can come in," I told Fred, glancing back at him. "Muggles don't bite, you know. I'm sure my brothers will love you."
"How are you so sure? Is it because you love me?" he questioned, wiggling his eyebrows at me as he followed me in through the front door. I closed it behind him, and reached for the light switch.
"My dad forgot to pay the electric bill again," I groaned when the lights didn't turn on. "He does have a bad habit of forgetting those sorts of things when I'm not around."
"Oh, are you his accountant?" Fred teased. "I thought you were horrible at Arithmancy?"
"Arithmancy is much harder than Muggle math, okay?" I huffed, trying not to smirk. "Now, would you be able to magic this trunk up to my room, or do I have to drag it up there by myself?"
"Oh—I'd much enjoy watching you try to pull that thing up the stairs by yourself," Fred mused, glancing lightly in the direction of the wooden staircase.
I rolled my eyes at him. "I'll have the boys do it—Garren! Evan! Lyle! Dad? I'm home!"
No noise responded, except for the crackling of the fire, and the faint sound of breathing in the living room. With my brow furrowed nervously, I crept over toward the archway from which the light of the flames was seeping into the hall. Fred followed closely behind me, and just as we were about to enter the room, two cloaked men yanked us by our arms. I went flying into the living room, nearly losing my footing as the hooded man clutched both of my hands behind my back. Frantic, I tried to kick and jerk myself away from him, but his grip was firm and unrelenting. My eyes darted over to Fred, who was also trying to tug himself away from the masked man that held his hands. The Death Eater that held his hands.
"Ah, our guest of honor has arrived," a slippery tone drawled as I turned my attention to the center of the living room. My three brothers were each in here as well, all being held around the perimeter of the room by masked Death Eaters, all struggling the same as Fred and I. Then, in the center, right in front of the sizzling fire, stood snake-faced Voldemort. Just like the image of him I'd seen the day that he returned, his bald head was dingy and pale, contrasting greatly with the dark robes that he wore. He held his wand lazily in his hand, barely paying any mind to my father, who was knelt dismally at his side.
"You're back then, are you?" I snapped shortly. "I see you found a way to bring yourself back to life—looks like you forgot to bring your nose back, though—"
The Death Eater behind me heaved my arms back, eliciting an involuntary cry of pain from my lips.
"Leave her alone!" Fred shouted, still trying to wrench away from the Death Eaters grasp. "Leave them all alone! They haven't done anything!"
Voldemort's lip curled as he eyed the red-faced redhead. "Weasley, aren't you? A pureblood family that has betrayed pureblood values... A blood traitor! Humorous, isn't it?"
The five Death Eaters in the room snickered like dirty little sycophants. I tried to yank my hands from this Death Eater's again, but he held tight.
"Be sure to restrain this blood traitor, Rookwood," Voldemort commanded of the Death Eater who held Fred. "We don't need filth like them to deter our mission any more than they already have..."
"What do you want from me?" I growled through my teeth. "Invading my brain—coming to my house—what business do you have with a Mudblood like me?"
"Oh, you are more than a Mudblood, Lainey," Voldemort assured me, taking a leisurely step behind my father. "Your mother was very powerful...very powerful indeed. She had the power to resurrect me, as you know. But...she was weak-minded...vulnerable. She refused my request, so I eliminated her through the man who holds your hands this very moment—"
I let out a loud, grueling groan as I violently tried to kick the man behind me. He restrained me quickly, however, yanking my arms back in a way that nearly dislocated my shoulders.
"You monster!" I roared, my voice quavering as my nose twitched with animosity. "She was a good person!"
"Yes, yes, we know... Such a shame she had to go... But, her decision has effects that have lasted longer than she planned," Voldemort went on, pacing lightly behind my father. "She could have saved her Muggle family—I would have let them roam free if she had only complied to my wishes... I do not forgive easily, however... And, seeing as she can no longer be affected by my power, I've shifted my attention to you, Lainey. Oh—how powerful you are... You possess abilities beyond your own comprehension. Though, with your current mentality, I do not believe you could truly follow me..."
"I would never follow you," I spat, my face contorted into a repugnant scowl. "You're a murderer! You killed Cedric Diggory for absolutely no reason! I know it was you!"
"Diggory...what a tragedy..." Voldemort droned. "Though it only shows what happens to those who dare to get in our way... I only hoped Harry Potter would be the next to die..."
"Aren't those your friends?" Lyle blurted, staring at me. "Cedric—and Harry—"
"Ah, yes, your sister does not have the best choice in friends," Voldemort sneered, his snake-like eyes slivering at me. "Though that can be rearranged—"
"If you want me to join you, it's not going to happen," I barked fiercely. "I'll stand with Harry—I'll stand for good—no matter what—"
"Lainey, don't get yourself hurt," my father pleaded, his hair frayed and his eyes tired. I could see the tears at the brim of his dull blue eyes as his face struggled to convey his love for me.
"No—Lainey—you can't join this guy!" Garren insisted indignantly. "He's—evil!"
The Death Eaters all cackled under their breaths as the one holding Garren yanked violently on his arms. With one hand, he slipped his wand out of his pocket and held it under Garren's chin.
"Don't do anything to him—please!" I cried desperately.
"Just listen to them, Garren!" Evan snapped hotly. "You don't always have to be the hero—"
"That's not what I'm doing—" Garren began, though the Death Eater jabbed his wand deeper into my brother's neck before he could speak any more.
"Do not fear, dear Lainey," Voldemort said sadistically, still pacing behind my father. Like each word he uttered, each step he took was calculated, as though he'd planned out this entire scene perfectly. "Your foolish brothers will not be harmed...for now. Only one of your precious Muggles shall die tonight."
"No!" Garren bellowed, again trying to dart away from the wand wielding Death Eater.
"Garren—"
He'd nearly pried himself away when the Death Eater decided to use a Full Body-Bind on him, sending his stiff body plummeting to the ground with a thud. His wide blue eyes stared out into the center of the living room, but his body remained petrified.
I yanked and pulled, trying desperately to free myself from this nefarious Death Eater's grasp. "No! Garren!"
"Hasty, hasty, Macnair," Voldemort scolded calmly. "Now he won't be able to enjoy the show..."
"You think this is some kind of game?" I growled, spitting with rage. "Life means something! Everyone's life means something!"
"And that is your flaw, is it not? Caring for the weak—sympathizing with those who cannot even defend themselves... Pitiful." Voldemort paused thoughtfully, his wand now aimed directly at my father. "If you think about it...when your father dies, it is you who will be causing yourself the pain—allowing yourself to love a creature so foul—"
At that moment, I was finally able to wrench myself away from the Death Eater, stumbling into the middle of the room with my wand fixed on Voldemort.
"Fitz—"
"Lainey—be careful—"
"Lay—don't—"
"Lainey—he'll kill you—"
"Oh Lainey, I do not wish to kill you, not now," Voldemort droned, a malicious grin spreading across his lips as his menacing eyes surveyed me. Though I am not afraid to...
Sharp pain shot through my skull, concentrated in the same spot behind my ear. My vision went hazy as I struggled to keep my wand up and my legs straight.
That's right... Lower your wand...
Without a conscious thought of my own, my arm slowly descended as I dropped my wand to the ground.
"Fitz—no!" Fred cried desperately. I heard the clamor of him tussling behind me, though every sight and sound was jumbled in my brain.
Now, look up—focus. I want you to see the life leave your peasant father...
There was no fight left in me; my head slowly looked back up, my cleared eyes fixating right on my grimacing father as he looked miserably at his three standing children.
Very good...just as I expected...just the power I knew I would exert...
"How are you doing this?" I demanded. "How are you in my mind? How can you control me? You didn't even use the Imperius Curse—"
His dark eyes flickered with sinister glee. "What I've done to you extends far past the Imperius Curse—which I've heard you learned to combat rather well—"
"Who told you that? That little ferret, Draco Malfoy? Anyone could have resisted his weak Imperius Curse—"
"Enough!" he exploded out loud before a softer Enough... echoed through my brain. "Are you watching, Muggles?" he asked my brothers, looking to Lyle and Evan, since Garren was still lying paralyzed on the ground. "This is not only a way of showing Lainey how powerful I am, but also a way to show you Muggles how weak you are...how easily I could kill you all..."
"You're sick," I spat at him, wanting to move but finding that I was frozen where I stood.
"Am I?" he drawled methodically as he stepped directly behind my father. "Or are you just blind?"
Before I could formulate a thought, I was suddenly brought down onto my knees, landing right in front of my father who was actively suppressing tears.
"And finally, the time has come," Voldemort began dramatically, raising his wand above my father's head.
"Stop—please!" I cried, my voice cracking as it came out of my aching throat. Even though Voldemort had found a way to control my actions, he could not control the tears that brimmed my eyes—that threatened to overflow. "Why are you doing this? You don't have to do this! Kill me instead—"
"Lainey!" Lyle, Evan, and Fred chorused frantically.
"Lainey, take care of your brothers," my father urged, his blue eyes boring into me. "Protect them no matter what—"
"Dad," I sobbed hoarsely, paralyzed there I knelt only feet away from him. I could save him—I should be able to save him—
"I love you, Lainey—"
I heard a sob catch in Lyle's throat from behind us. "Dad—no—you can't let him—"
"I love you too, Lyle," my dad assured my twin as he glanced in his direction.
Voldemort's patience was running thin as he jabbed his wand into my father's back. "Enough of this foolery—"
"Wait! He didn't get to say he loves me," Evan moaned.
"I love you too, Evan—"
Voldemort raised his wand again, the spell on his tongue. "Avada K—"
With a speed I'd never seen from my father, he swiftly spun around and slammed his fist into Voldemort's gut, causing every Death Eater in the room to draw their wands as their master fumbled back. With the Death Eaters distracted, Lyle, Evan, and Fred were able to jerk themselves free, but their efforts proved futile: as my father tried to throw another punch, Voldemort rapidly regained his composure and blasted Ray Fitzroy with a Killing Curse so powerful that his body went flying back, landing on the floor right beside me.
"Dad? Dad!" I shrieked as his droopy, lifeless eyes stared up at me.
My stomach lurched in agony; my jaw dropped in bewilderment; my eyes exploded with sorrow-filled tears. I was ready to break out of Voldemort's trance, to attack him with the wave of fury that coursed through me, but before I could even look at him again, he was gone. They were all gone: all five Death Eaters and their master had Disapparated from our living room, leaving us to wallow in a pit of despair.
"Dad—Dad—" Lyle choked as he skidded down on the floor next to me. He wrapped his shaking arms around my father's dead body as Evan collapsed limply on the other side of him, his facial expression numb and hollow.
"He was so good," I sobbed, the tears now streaming freely from my eyes. Fred gingerly approached the scene, kneeling down at my side with an expression of shock riddled on his face. "This is all my fault...all my fault...I did this! I did this to him!"
"No—Fitz—no—" Fred pleaded softly, my vision of his face swimming through the heavy water that flooded my eyes.
"I killed him! He's dead!" I croaked roughly, my chest burning—my throat burning—my eyes burning—
"Lay—stop—this wasn't you," Lyle insisted hoarsely through his own tears. "You tried your best—"
"I'm the reason he came here in the first place! He wants to destroy me!"
"We should have been able to save him," Evan blubbered, his wide eyes fixed numbly on our father. "We should have...we should have..."
"Fitz," Fred started slowly, but before he could say anything, I collapsed into his chest, sobbing loudly into his shirt. He wrapped his arms gently around me, holding on tight to me as I heaved and panted with endless remorse.
"Why...why..."
The events in this chapter correlate with The Goblet of Fire Chapter Thirty-Seven, "The Beginning".