FRED YAWNED A GROGGY YAWN as he descended the stairs that night, mouth dry and beseeching him for water, mind much too torpid to be trusted with a simple Accio and Aguamenti. He was just stepping into the kitchen when he heard a soft whimper ripple through the air and felt a light breeze brush against his skin. Rubbing his eyes, his pupils adjusted to the bright moonlight that beamed through the windows and he knitted his brow in perplexity when he noticed the backdoor standing ajar.
Having left his wand on his nightstand, he looked around and searched for a suitable defence. Settling on the frying pan that sat on the counter, he gripped it like a Beater's bat and tiptoed quietly across the kitchen. Cautiously, he kicked the door open and peered outside, the trepidation that came with the wizarding war making his heart pound heavily in his chest. To both his surprise and relief, instead of Death Eaters or danger, he was met with only the sight of Edelyn, who was sitting on the back porch, arms wrapped tightly around her legs and face buried in the valley of her knees.
"Lyn?"
She jerked upright and hastily wiped her eyes before turning her head to face him. "Oh, F-Fred," she muttered. "H...h-hey."
Seeing her upper teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, Fred frowned and lowered the frying pan onto the floor before stepping outside and taking a seat beside her.
Avoiding his gaze, she asked, "What — erm — are you doing up so late?"
"Could ask you the same." He hesitated before resting a hand on the small of her back. "Lyn, what's wrong?"
She gnawed at her bottom lip, metallic tang trickling onto her tongue as her fingers went to tug at the sleeves of her cardigan. "Harry and I...We — erm — had an argument."
"Oh." Fred gave her back a soothing rub; Harry and Lyn didn't argue often, but it seemed that whenever they did, it was wild and dramatic, suitable for a Black and Potter. "You want to talk about it?"
Edelyn shook her head. "Not really." Sniffling, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and turned to look at him. "I rather talk about your choice of a frying pan."
Fred snorted a laugh, that Fred Weasley laugh which was contagious in its lightheartedness and which always made a grin tug at her lips. "Don't underestimate my capabilities, Lynster. Them Death Eaters have nothing against my Beater skills. All I'd have to do is imagine their ugly faces as bludgers."
A weak chuckle reverberated from her chest. "I'd pay twenty galleons to see you whack a Carrow."
Fred grinned mischievously. "No need, lil' Lynster. I'd do it for free." His hand absentmindedly slid across her back to rest on her far shoulder. "I'd also volunteer to give Harry's face a nice old frying pan imprint if you'd like. It might go well with his scar."
A hybrid between a snigger and a choked sob tumbled past her lips. "How charitable of you," she joked.
"Well, you know me." He arched his back and puffed out his chest. "Always doing what's right for the greater good."
"What a superhero," she teased, nudging him in the side.
"Actually, I'd like to consider myself a knight in shining armour." He drummed his fingers against his chin in thought. "A handsome — what do Muggles call it again?"
"The opposite of humble?"
"No, no...Ah! A handsome Prince Charming." He smiled brightly. "And you, my fair lady, are a beautiful Princess."
She rolled her eyes in amusement. "That would make Remus my fairy godmother."
He snickered. "I can see it, can't you? The fluttery wings, the wand with the star on top..."
She chuckled, body leaning into his as he panned out what Remus' dress gown would look like: periwinkle blue with a pink inner lining. "And obviously, he'd wear white heels. They'd bring out those yummy calves."
Edelyn choked on her own saliva. "Yummy calves?"
Fred pffted. "Don't pretend like you haven't noticed them too, Lynster. He's got awesome calves. Tonks is a lucky woman."
"I'd say they're both pretty lucky. You know, if any two deserve a fairy tale ending, it would be them. I mean, have you seen the way they smile at each other?"
Fred sighed reminiscently. "Ah, to be in love."
A comfortable silence fell upon them, and they both found themselves drifting their gazes up to the night sky, Fred's landing on the moon and Edelyn's flittering across the constellations as her lips frowned in thought. Love. The four-lettered word had rung so nicely in Fred's voice but sat so illy in her stomach, and as her eyes traced the outline of an eagle, the memory of her argument with Harry came flooding back to the forefront of her mind. Her chest clenched and her upper teeth resumed their position on her raw bottom lip.
After a long while, her voice finally broke the stillness, quiet and hoarse. "I told Harry I loved him earlier."
Fred's arm fell from around her shoulders and his mouth formed an 'o'.
He was suddenly taken back to that day a few months ago when he had first discovered that Harry and Edelyn were together. He and George were having drinks at the Leaky Cauldron, discussing whether or not they should close the joke shop due to the war, when Lee Jodan had popped on in to say hello.
"So, those two love-birds are finally hitting it on, eh?"
"What two love-birds?" Fred and George had asked in unison.
"Don't tell me you haven't heard...I'm talking about Lyn and Harry, of course!"
Fred had spluttered on his butterbeer. "What?"
"Yeah. I was having tea with Angelina, and she said that Katie told her all about it. It's been at least a week by now. They hooked up after the final Quidditch match."
George had thrown his arms up in the air. "What in bloody hell is the point of reading Ron's letters if he isn't even going to tell us the good stuff? Honestly! And Ginny sent a letter just last night, asking us to send her a new set of extendable ears. She could have at least mentioned something!"
As George then continued to rant on how offended he was that no one had thought it important to cater him the scoop on Edelyn and Harry's love life, Lee had snickered and Fred had remained uncharacteristically quiet. Guess he finally took her to the shrieking shack, he had thought, and though feeling rather strange at first, over the weeks that followed, he had come to feel happy for the two.
He blinked at Edelyn and awkwardly scratched his head. "R-right." Fred wasn't usually one to stumble over his words, but at that moment, his tongue was simply uncooperative. "So — er — he didn't...um...say it back?"
"He didn't say anything at first." She paused to bite her bottom lip and swallow away the whimper that threatened to spill. "And then he...Well, he broke — broke up with—"
Her body then decided to betray her, and with an involuntary heave of her chest, a sob escaped her lips.
Fred winced, chest clenching as she began to cry, and with slight uncertainty, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. Finding comfort in his embrace, Edelyn buried her head in the nook of his neck and let the tears of heartache she had tried so hard to hold back pour from her eyes, body quivering in his steady arms.
Not knowing what to say, for what could one possibly say to ease the sting of young love, Fred held her close to him in silence and soothingly caressed her hair, slowly coaxing her into a somnolent state until sleep took her in its grasp.
• • •
HARRY COULDN'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME he had felt such a strong urge to cry as he sat for breakfast the next morning, a thought which rung strangely in his head, what with all the terrible losses that had happened in the past three years. When Cedric died, it was fear that initially gripped his bones, and not sadness; when Sirius died, it was anger that burned; when Dumbledore died, it was loneliness he felt. Never before had it been such an acute and isolated sensation of sorrow like he now felt as he glanced over the table to see Edelyn picking at her blueberry muffin, the sight of her swollen eyes bringing such a desperate ache to all his body that even breathing felt struggled.
"Harry, what is wrong with you?" Hermione demanded as she and Ginny stormed into Ron's bedroom later that morning; the two girls having weaned out a short version of what had happened from Fred when they noticed Edelyn's solemn demeanour over breakfast.
"He's a bloody idiot, that's what," Ron supplied rather grumpily as he shoved the freshly laundered clothes his mother had just given him into his dresser.
Having endured enough of Ron's wrath the night before, Harry snapped at him through gritted teeth, "Look, I did what I had to do, alright? Get off my back, will you?" Then, turning to Hermione and Ginny, he took a shaky breath before saying, "And I don't have to explain myself to either of you. Whatever happened — whatever my reasons — that's between Lyn and I."
Lyn and me, Hermione thought as Ginny folded her arms and scolded hotly, "Don't speak to Ron like that, Harry. He's been friends with Lyn long before you ever came into the picture, and so have I. Stop acting like you're the only one who cares for her."
Ginny, who had always carried a soft spot for Harry, had never spoken to him in such a tone of voice before, and it surprised them all, even the ginger herself. Harry blinked his eyes rather rapidly and looked away; it was hard enough coping with the breakup without everyone's constant paraphrases of, "you're an idiot".
"If you truly cared for her, then you'd understand why I've done it. Especially you, Ginny. Voldemort lured you into the Chamber of Secrets just cause you're Ron's sister. What d'you think he'd do to her if he knew I lo—" He choked on his words. "If he knew we were together."
Hermione heaved a heavy sigh. "I'm not saying I agree with your choice of breaking up with her, Harry, but I do...I do agree with her staying at the Burrow rather than coming with us on the—" she glanced at Ginny and muttered in a please-don't-ask manner, "—mission."
Ron shook his head. "You two underestimate her. You always do. She's a lot tougher than you make her out to be. I get that she doesn't turn of age 'till November, but she's been practising her wandless magic and has gotten really good. Besides, I'd feel much better knowing she's alive or knowing she's dead than not knowing at all."
"Yes, Ron, but she does — she does have a streak of panicking and not being able to use her powers when in actual danger," Hermione reasoned.
"Yeah, well, it still doesn't justify ditching her." Ron sent Harry a look of deep annoyance. "She's really cut up and—"
Harry, who was beginning to feel extremely lightheaded, threw his arms up in the air in frustration. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't know I hurt her? I do, alright? I do, and I hate myself for it. But I know I'd hate myself even more if anything happened to her because of me, so just drop it and leave me be."
Voice breaking, he stormed out and hurriedly descended the stairs, not stopping when Mrs Weasley called his name or when he almost ran into a wedding-flustered Fleur. Lungs screaming for fresh air, he stepped out into the Burrow's backyard, and with knees buckling under the weight of his emotions, found himself seated in a fetal position on the back porch with his face buried in his arms and tears trailing down his cheeks.
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❛ One-sixty. ❜
published, 06. 11. 2018
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