Chapter Text
*Valzer d'Inverno - Andrea Vanzo*
Somewhere deep in the Cotswold District, in a lush, just out-of-sight corner, the sun beamed hot on the small cottage that was the Carter estate. Elna Carter wiped beads of sweat prickling at her hairline with the back of her forearm as she shaved the sheep in the back garden. Avis Carter sat at the kitchen table, scribbling projection reports for an upcoming meeting.
This story, however, follows the tale of Valerie Carter, who lay spread eagle on her bed wishing she could summon an ice age to cool her down. If only she knew of such a spell.
Ever since she had turned seventeen on July 3rd, she’d been practicing magic in her room. She’d sprouted flowers, gotten her knitting needles to work independently, and cleaned up any messes she’d made without so much as batting an eye. She had also passed her Apparition test, but she was still a bit worried about splinching so she wasn’t too keen on using it. Her father had teased her a bit for that one, Apparating whenever he got the chance to show her that it wasn't as scary as she was making it out to be. Until one day, his lovely wife who he would not blame, surprised him mid-Apparition. He threw out his back, and after Valerie gave him a told-you-so look, he sighed in understanding.
She had gotten a few letters over the holiday from Harry, Hermione, and Fred.
Harry told woes of his aunt and uncle, how he wished he could be anywhere but there. His bully of a cousin, Dudley, was incidentally a boxing champion. Late at night she’d lie awake and worry about any scuffs or bruises she might see when they returned to school.
Hermione was where Harry longed to be, at the Burrow with the Weasleys. Valerie hadn’t returned since she visited with her parents in early July, too busy with saving money and preparing for her final year.
Fred… was still Fred. He’d write her about him and George’s newest creation, sometimes sending a sample. The latest to arrive was a grey cap with pink feathers on the rim. She was immediately suspicious.
His samples usually included a small, messily written note that’d describe what to expect. For example, he’d sent her a few of their newest Skiving Snackboxes, letting her know which one was for nosebleeds (her idea), and that the other one was for fainting. The letter was long, written in excruciating detail, telling her which color to take to bring the symptom on and the color to stop it, told her she should stand on guard with a cloth or to make sure she was lying in bed.
The hat came on its own.
Hesitance sat on her shoulders for only a brief moment before shrugging it off. She knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.
Upon placing the hat on her head, she didn’t feel any different. She hummed thoughtfully, glancing around the room with a small frown before shrugging it off and deciding to leave it on for a few minutes. Maybe it was some sort of delayed effect?
Valerie was half an hour into reading a book when Elna walked into her room to let her know supper was ready. No more than two words came out of her mouth before she shrieked, running to Valerie’s side.
“Oi- what! ” Valerie jumped, the hat falling off her head. Elna froze. Screwed her eyes shut in brief annoyance.
“Guessing Fred sent you that?” she asked even though she knew the answer.
“Er-” Valerie looked from the hat on the floor to her mum. “Yeah.”
“Have a look in the mirror, why don’t you?”
Without a word, she placed the hat on her head and walked to the loo. Upon looking in the mirror, she giggled.
“Sorry!” she called out to her mum.
For when she looked in the mirror, she could only see from her neck down. Her head– and of course the hat– were nowhere to be found.
On August 2nd, she received a letter from none other than Albus Dumbledore. An owl had flown straight through her bedroom window and landed on the pillow beside her. She had done a double take at his name, momentarily worried she had started doing magic too early and this was her expulsion notice. For a second she wondered if it was sent to the wrong person, but there it was:
Valerie Carter
Bedroom
4 Court Cl, Loop Road
Miss Valerie Carter,
Harry Potter will be having a hearing on the 12th of August. It will be held in Courtroom Ten in the Ministry of Magic. At your earliest convenience, report to 12 Grimmauld Place in London . Pack a bag, as you will be staying there until the hearing.
Do not send a letter back to me or your friends.
Albus Dumbledore
Valerie stared down at the letter in confusion, flipping it over and then once more.
“Mum?” She called warily into the house, eyeing the letter suspiciously. “Dad?”
The house was silent, save for the faint ticking of the second hand on the grandfather clock. Cursing under her breath, she got up to peer out the window above the kitchen sink, hoping to find her mum there, when the letter burst into flames.
Yelping loudly, she procured her wand and took aim. It was nothing Auguamenti couldn’t put out, but by the time the flames died down and the smoke rose to the ceiling, the letter was nothing but soggy ashes.
She heard his quick footsteps careen down the hall, nearly slamming into the side of the corridor at his speed, and when Avis arrived in the kitchen his eyes were wide with worry.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly, looking at Valerie, then to her wand and the smoke.
And so she explained.
And by the time she was done explaining, Elna had just come in for a glass of water when she deadpanned at the mess.
“What are you two up to?” she asked with a raised brow.
And so she and Avis explained once more.
Harry Potter, having a hearing? What had he done? She couldn’t ask anyone by owl since Dumbledore had instructed her not to, which she found concerning, to say the least. Even more concerning was that her letter had singed away on its own.
Telling her parents was easier than expected. She reckoned if she’d gotten a letter, Hermione and the Weasleys had as well. Knowing she’d be under Molly and Arthur’s care, and accepting that she was requested by Dumbledore himself, they allowed her to go.
…
Apparition was still scary. The feeling pulled at her navel and the world spun and twirled around her before stopping again. Her trunk in hand, she stumbled slightly as she came to a stop on a street full of identical, black townhouses. Swallowing her nerves, she moved to the sidewalk, looking at the numbers on the houses. There was 10, and there was 11… oh- and it skipped right to 13.
She frowned, placing her trunk down and crossing her arms. She was sure this was Grimmauld Place- Apparition was much more precise than taking the Floo was- and there was the sign reading the street name at the end of the block.
Was this another 9 ¾ situation? Would she have to go barreling into the middle of these two homes to get to 12 Grimmauld Place? Dumbledore hadn't left any instructions...
But then the earth began to tremble beneath her feet. It was so minute that she was almost positive she was imagining it, thought maybe it was a side effect of Apparition, until she looked up at the houses.
11 and 13 Grimmauld began shifting away from each other. Frozen to the spot, she watched as the buildings rumbled and ground their way in opposite directions- but there was no blank space between them. No, another building was coming into view.
She held her breath, watching the windows of the two buildings for any Muggles that may be wondering if there was an earthquake. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see not a soul wandering to their window to look outside.
The buildings stopped moving with a low rumble, and in front of her she presumed was the fabled 12 Grimmauld Place. Though hidden from the rest of the world, the steps were worn and the door was battered, much more so than the buildings beside it. She approached the door and looked at the knocker, trailed her pointer against the shape of the silver serpent. With a frown, she blinked at the door. There was no keyhole or doorknob.
Heavy on security , she thought warily as she took the knocker in her hand and knocked three times.
She only had to wait a minute before the door was opened.
A minute before her breath caught in her throat.
For the man who stood before her, the man who either owned or was a squatter in this house, was a face she had only seen in the paper. His screaming, cackling, hollowed mugshot, to be precise.
Sirius Black stood in the doorway.
*The Rose Garden - Dennis Korn*
Had the note Dumbledore sent her been a lie?
Was this part of Draco Malfoy’s revenge?
While it hadn’t been at the forefront of her mind, her conversations with Draco hadn’t escaped her. She knew he had been wounded by their previous conversations. Gone as far as to call her a punter. While she wasn't absolutely sure he had told his father, she silently wondered some days if he had told him and if they were exacting their revenge in secret. But… no, she didn’t think he’d go this far to get revenge. He hadn’t even gone this far with Harry Potter, so why would he bother doing so with her?
Sirius Black cleared his throat, and she scolded herself silently for getting lost in thought at the worst possible time.
She remembered being a fifth-year when the news came out. Sirius Black, escaped from Azkaban. Everyone thought they’d be safe at Hogwarts, it’s what the staff insisted, what Dumbledore had promised. Dementors were brought onto the school grounds anyway. And Sirius Black still managed to get in.
She had heard he’d escaped execution… and there he stood.
He seemed eerily calm, even doing as much as rolling his eyes when he saw her reach for her wand.
“Has no one told her?” he called out behind him into the house.
“Told who?”
And then she was even more confused when her old Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Remus Lupin, popped his head out next to Sirius’s.
“Ah! Miss Carter,” he said with a small, kind smile. “Don’t mind him, please come in.”
Stunned, she blinked at him. “Professor…?”
“It’s quite alright,” he reassured her, chuckling with a nod of his head. Despite Lupin's light tone and expression, Sirius stood with a deep frown etched into his face. “Please, everything will be explained.”
On rigid legs, she couldn’t help but watch Sirius like a hawk as she entered the dark home. She came to a stop five feet behind him. He watched her, sighing boredly.
“Ahh, Sirius Black, Sirius Black,” he waved his hands in the air lethargically. “Come, now. If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead before you knocked on the door-”
“Sirius,” Lupin warned at the same time Valerie whispered, “Good God.”
“Don’t mind him,” Lupin repeated himself to Valerie. With a wave of his wand, her luggage lifted about a foot into the air. “Let me show you where you’re staying.”
He began the ascent up the narrow staircase, Valerie and her self-sufficient suitcase quickly following him before giving Sirius one final stare.
“We’ve got you in a room with Miss Granger, if that’s alright?” he asked as he pushed open the door.
The room, much like the rest of the house, was dark. Illuminated by gas lamps that hung from the walls, the wallpaper and carpet’s age revealed by its missing threads and light peeling.
The estate gave her the creeps. Sirius Black gave her the creeps. And where the hell was everyone else?
“Professor Lupin…” she started.
“Please,” he smiled. “Call me Remus.”
She thought about it for a moment, then tried. “Remus.” No, she didn’t like that one bit- he was her former professor!
When she scrunched her nose, he laughed and shook his head. “Lupin’s fine, then.”
She nodded slowly and hugged her arms to her body. “Alright, Lupin,” she said, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “What’s going on, then?” she asked with a nod of her head in the general direction of the first floor.
“Right. You must have many questions,” he nodded. “They will all be answered as soon as you’re done settling in, but know this.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “You are safe here. Sirius Black is not what you or many other people think he is.”
She shook slightly as she breathed, still slightly petrified.
But she’d do as she was told.
“This room is fine,” she smiled pursley. “Thank you. I’ll be down in a bit.”
He gave her a curt nod and left the room. She waited until she couldn’t hear his footsteps to let out the breath she was holding.
The situation was unbelievable. She hadn’t given it much thought when she received the letter from Dumbledore other than Harry having a hearing. Now she was in a house that she reckoned belonged to the darkest of dark wizards with no one here but an escapee from Azkaban and her old werewolf Professor.
Again, she had to wonder if this was a setup. For a moment, though she was alone, she was too scared to turn from her statuesque seat on the bed.
But then she shook her head at herself. She had a wand, she had six years of education under her belt, and if those weren’t worth anything, well, she could always resort to opening up a window and screaming out of it as she plummeted to the sidewalk.
She turned away from the door to look deeper into her room, spotting an identical twin bed to the one she was sitting on. On the night table sat a large Transfigurations text, one similar to what she had owned in her fifth year. At the end of the mattress, large and curled up, was the ginger Himalayan cat, Crookshanks.
Alright, she thought. So Hermione’s here, just not here.
If she looked closer at the smaller details, it calmed her nerves more. Study notes written on parchment by the window, a couple pairs of shoes lined up outside what she assumed to be the closet door, her trunk at the end of her bed.
But again, where was she and everyone else?
Well, she wasn’t going to get any answers by sitting and thinking about the questions, so she placed her trunk at the end of her bed and walked downstairs.
…
“Fancy a cup?” Lupin asked Valerie after she’d sat down on one of the couches in the living room. She almost hadn’t heard him; her attention had been strongly taken by the portraits of wizards all pointing their noses up and “humph!” -ing quietly.
“That’s alright,” Valerie answered. He poured himself a cup of tea before sitting on the adjacent couch.
“So,” he asked after a long sip. “Where would you like me to start?”
She almost laughed, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. “Sirius Black, please.”
And so he told her everything, starting from the beginning. How himself, Sirius, and Harry’s father had all been friends when they studied at Hogwarts. How they were also friends with another boy, Peter Pettigrew. The uprising of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.
“Wait,” Valerie scrunched her eyebrows. “If Peter Pettigrew killed those muggles, why was Sirius the one at the scene of the crime?”
“Ahh,” Lupin said glumly. “That is because he is an Animagus.”
Her eyebrows grew tighter, her eyes narrowing. “What animal?”
“A rat,” he grumbled.
“So he turned into one at just the right time?” she asked. “Made it look like Sirius killed him and the muggles?”
He nodded. “Correct.”
After that, Peter Pettigrew stayed hidden for over a decade as- and she had to suppress her laugh at this part- the Weasley’s family pet. “Scabbers”, they so affectionately called him.
“How’d you catch him?” Valerie asked, now on the edge of her seat and listening with rapt attention. She had nearly forgotten what a good storyteller he was, it had been quite some time since she had him as a professor. Every student, including herself, sat just as she had now during his lessons.
“Well,” he began, but then his face slowly scrunched up. “I found a very interesting clue that led me right to him.”
“What? Like a…” she pondered for a moment while the gears turned in her head.
*
Harry clenched his teeth for a moment. “That night I figured out the egg clue, I was walking around with this… map.”
When he didn’t continue, Valerie decided to satiate her curiosities. “A map? Of what, Hogwarts?”
“Yes. But it’s a special map. My father… he and his friends enchanted the map so you could see anyone and where they are in real time.”
*
She grinned smugly to herself. “Nevermind. Continue.”
Harry was in enough trouble, and she probably wasn’t supposed to know about the map anyway.
Once she was caught up to speed and was now in the know of Sirius Black’s proper story, her next question was about Harry’s trial.
“There’s a lot I can’t share about what’s going on presently, but I can share a few things.”
He went into detail about what happened only yesterday. Harry had been attacked near his home by dementors, and in self-defense, he cast his Patronus. He received an expulsion and his hearing date not long after from the Ministry.
After asking what they were doing here, in this house of all places, she was informed that this was in fact the House of Black. She’d also learned that a secret organization now met there called The Order of the Phoenix, and its purpose was to fight He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and his devout followers. Members of The Order had been keeping their eye on Harry for the past few weeks until one of them left their shift early, leading to the dementor attack.
Her final question was where everyone was, which was promptly answered by a patterned knock at the door.
Lupin rose from the sofa to answer the door, and Valerie suddenly felt nervous. Felt her gut clenching. Christ, she’d been nervous over Sirius Black, but now she was nervous for an entirely different reason. Sure she’d written Hermione and Fred a few times this summer and she had gone to visit the latter once, but for some reason she still felt a bundle of anxious energy coiling in her stomach.
Did she stay sat or should she stand? Silly question, don't be rude, she said to herself as she stood from the couch and looked down the long hallway to the front door. But wait, should she meet them there or stay in the living room?
Godric’s Heart, it was only her friends. Why was she so nervous?
Oh, she thought as Lupin turned the doorknob.
Because even though they were her friends a few letters ago, that could change in an instant.
It’d happened to her just earlier that year.
…
Maybe she should just sit back down.
A gasp pulled her from her thoughts.
“Valerie, dear!” Molly Weasley beamed from down the hall. “Oh, I can’t believe we missed your arrival, oh- Ronald, take these bags- it’s so nice to see you!”
The short woman plowed through the hallway, and with a wide grin, Valerie met her halfway until she was brought into a warm hug. When Mrs. Weasley pulled away, she held Valerie’s face gently in her hands. “Oh, look at you!” she cooed as if she hadn’t seen her a month prior.
“It’s nice to see you too,” Valerie laughed a bit bashfully.
“Wow,” Molly breathed quietly, still holding looking over Valerie’s face. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“Er- have I got something on me?”
“Oh no! No,” Molly laughed, taking her hands away. “I’ve just never noticed- you're the spitting image of Elna in almost every way, but you’ve got your father’s eyes, don’t you...? It’s a mum thing,” she finally concluded, shaking her head at Valerie’s face which was nearly ready to burst with confused giggles.
“Thank you?”
The next to throw herself at Valerie was Hermione.
“Oh, it’s been too long!” she said, beaming at Valerie. “I hope you don’t mind, I told Professor Lupin you could stay in my room with me, and I hope Crookshanks didn’t give you any trouble-”
“That bloody beast is nothing but,” Ron grumbled.
“No trouble,” Valerie grinned, her and Hermione choosing to ignore him. “And no, course I don’t mind.”
Ron and Ginny were more relaxed in their greetings, offering short half hugs. Arthur was still at work.
That just left the twins, who she definitely couldn’t have missed. When the door opened, they would’ve stood heights above the rest of the family. Had they been here the whole time? No, she definitely would’ve heard one of them by now, they were both too loud to go unnoticed.
Mrs. Weasley didn’t have to ask- she could read the question on Valerie’s face- but before she could answer, the boys answered it themselves by appearing out of thin air right in front of her.
Valerie’s knees nearly buckled by, giving a short yelp as her hand instinctively went to grab her wand.
Fred and George were all grins, laughing at her reaction while she struggled to get her heart beating normally again.
“Why so scared?” George teased.
“Yeah,” Fred grinned and raised his brows. “It looks like you’ve just, I dunno, seen something appear out of thin air.”
Once she realized it was them, that she was safe- she really had been on edge ever since Sirius opened the door- every ounce of energy went into the scoff she gave them. Half because she’d just been scared to death, the other half because it was such a bad joke. “I can’t believe you two.”
“Get used to it,” Ginny groaned. She’d bet this had been a recurring thing since the boys passed their Apparition test.
“What, you haven’t been using it to your full advantage?” Fred asked. “Bit of a waste.”
Valerie frowned. “My legs work perfectly fine, don’t they?”
He snickered, giving her a brief once-over. She didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on the limbs in question.
“You scared?” he teased in a low voice.
She stammered, crossing her arms close to her chest. “Am not,” she said defensively, but the lilt in her voice was making him grin wider.
“Aw,” Fred laughed and took a step closer to nudge her arm. “Worried you’ll splinch?”
She was going red now. “No,” she proclaimed, her voice going up the octave. She only had to give herself a ten-minute pep talk before Apparating over here. “Molly, do you need help with those?” she asked her with a tense smile, eyeing the bags overflowing with food on the floor. Anything to stop Fred from teasing her into oblivion.
She didn’t get the hint and instead waved her away. “You worry about settling in for today, I’ll put you to work tomorrow!”
“Alright then,” Valerie mumbled under her breath, looking back at Fred who still had that stupid, bright and brilliant grin plastered on his face. He had gotten a haircut since she’d last seen him, no longer down to his shoulders and slightly curled at the end, instead it came to a halt closer to his ears. For some reason, it made him look taller. Or maybe he’d grown?
“You know,” he commented. “Staring is rude.”
Her lips pursed involuntarily, and she struggled to return to a neutral face. “So was your entrance.”
“Everyone else,” Molly clapped. “Chop chop! Bags to the kitchen! Fred and George- no magic.”
The boys cursed under their breaths.
The majority of the family and Hermione followed, save for Fred who slowed his pace before he could leave the hallway they had all been clustered in.
He had to hand it to himself, he behaved accordingly with everyone around. Thank Merlin for George, who was somewhat like a safety net for him. It was easy to act himself when his brother was right there. He’d always been right there.
Being alone with Valerie, though, was something he had been a bit antsy about. The feelings she left him with that night at the Burrow stirred something new in him, more troublesome than those from the party. It was easy to write her letters. He could sit and think of its contents, starting over if he had to. God, did he have to. Being face to face with her, nearly having to pry his eyes away from her mouth that had kissed his cheek all while keeping up with her banter, was proving to be difficult.
He tried to blame it on the party and the provocative position they’d gotten themselves into. Blamed it on the dancing, the proximity, the drinks. Blamed it on how she looked curled in on herself and tucked under his burgundy blankets. How gentle her breathing was, how soft her hair was, how it spilled in rivets across his pillow and he still hadn’t washed the case. But when she was frowning at him, practically pouting, telling him her legs worked just fine, he had to be sneaky about biting his cheek when he fact-checked it for himself. So he also blamed it on hormones.
To summarize, he was just short of terrified of being alone with her and what it would do to him.
He heard her stifle a snicker and snapped his head back to glare at her.
“What, you really can’t go anywhere without Apparating?” she grinned.
He felt his jaw click. “I’ll give you 10 Galleons right now if you Apparate to the kitchen.”
When her smile dropped and she gave a mighty humph! before walking up the stairs, he felt the corners of his mouth pick up.
He’d be just fine.
*Postcard from Paris - Robert Gromotka*
Later that evening, many people sat at the long oak dinner table. Several introductions had to be made, and Valerie tried her best to remember them all. There was Charlie Weasley, second oldest of the siblings who she thought she’d remembered seeing during the First Task. Yes, he had been one of the dragon tamers that wrestled them away after each champion had taken their turn. He was as tall as the twins but much broader due to the nature of his work, skin so freckled he almost looked tan. He sat next to Bill Weasley, who she’d run into a few months prior. Kingsley Shacklebolt sat across and to the right of her. Nymphadora Tonks gave a happy “Wotcher, Valerie?”. Alastor Moody- no longer Barty Crouch Jr. in disguise- sat near the head of the table next to Arthur Weasley, who had gotten home from work half an hour prior. The other members, her professors from school shockingly enough, would arrive in time for the meeting that would be held after dinner.
She knew asking questions would cast suspicion or curious gazes her way, so she kept quiet. Hermione probably knew something that was going on. For the time being, she sat silently as she ate stew and bread and listened to the conversations fluttering through the room.
…
“Tell me everything.”
Once Hermione and Valerie were holed up in their bedroom, just a few minutes after the meeting started, they got to business.
“We don’t know everything, but we have a general idea,” Hermione scooted closer to her on the bed. They sat cross-legged at the head and foot of Hermione’s mattress, leaning forward to whisper. Crookshanks moved slowly between the two of them, rubbing his head across each of their knees before settling in for a nap in the middle of their legs.
“Some of the members of the Order have been following known Death Eaters. Others are working on recruiting more people,” Hermione said quietly. “That’s what we’re positive of.”
“Did you hear who they’re following? Who the Death Eaters are?” Valerie asked, nearly tipping over. She was figuratively on the edge of her seat, literally about to roll forward on her knees.
Gravely, Hermione shook her head. “Like I said,” she sighed with a frown. “We only have a general idea.”
A light rap on the door coaxed them out of their huddle right before it eased open.
Fred, George, Ginny, and Ron stood in the doorway. They all had varying levels of mischief on their faces, and a long pale-looking string dangled from George’s finger.
“Ready for some more undercover work?” George asked excitedly.
“Undercover work” consisted of Fred sneaking down the stairs silent as a grave to wiggle one end of the string under the closed door of the dining room where the meeting was held while George held the other end up to his ear. Once George gave him a thumbs up, Fred made his way back to the lot of them at the top of the staircase.
With bated breath and in complete silence, Valerie wondered why they were only picking up bits and pieces of information and not more with a plan as ingenious as this, but Fred had told her it was merely a prototype, an “Extendable Ear” that they had come up with just for the occasion. If they had more time, they’d have been able to make something that gave them a better quality, but with little materials and sunlight they had that weren’t spent doing chores, the best they could manage was picking up on whoever was closest to the string.
“Hm, something about guard duty,” George muttered, face straining as he tried to listen closer. Guard duty? What could they be guarding? She went over the facts she knew thus far about the tracking of Death Eaters and recruiting of Order members, but she came up blank.
“Let me have a go,” Fred whispered to his brother. The silent exchange was made, and with the string by Fred’s ear, George’s face had finally settled.
They sat in silence for four agonizing minutes, and Valerie was about to call it quits for herself and tell Hermione to fill her in later.
That was until Fred had also grown tired, resting his arm on the banister and a groaning creeaaak! echoed off the walls. Everyone froze, and when Fred gave a horrified glance at the string by his ear, they knew the other end had gone quiet.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbled quietly as he nipped at the string, bringing it out of the end of the door and up the staircase just as the doorknob turned. The others began inching away prepared for what was to come next; Valerie was uncertain but thought it best to follow their lead.
She took four steps back when she saw Molly Weasley’s bright red face in the doorway.
“WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU BOYS ABOUT THAT BLASTED THING!” she roared, shaking in her place. Fred openly snickered while George barely contained his and told him to hurry it up. “SO YOU THINK IT’S FUNNY, DO YOU? I OUGHT TO COME UP THERE AND TEAR THAT STRING TO SHREDS!”
“Fred hurry!” Ron hissed. “She’ll bin it with the rest of them if you don’t hide it!”
“Won’t happen again!” George called over the banister.
Feeling defeated and slightly on edge after Mrs. Weasley’s wailing, they quietly stalked to the first bedroom on the right in the hall. Judging by the several pieces of parchment with lists of prices, clothes laid about, and the faint smell of fireworks, she figured this was Fred and George’s room. As the last person in the room, Ginny closed the door behind her.
“We’ll have to figure something else out,” she groaned as she leaned against the entryway.
The twins grunted in response. George unlocked his trunk and Fred tossed the string into a pile of dozens just like them.
“What do you reckon they’re guarding?” Ron asked.
Hermione frowned. “It could have been something in passing. Maybe it wasn’t even them doing the guarding, maybe it was the Death Eaters on guard duty.”
Silence briefly made the room feel like lead. It hadn’t helped Valerie’s case. She was more tired than usual, having an onslaught of information whispered and fed to her all day. Now she had Death Eaters and guard duty to worry about, and there was still no idea of when Harry would be arriving for the hearing.
“Well,” Fred sighed. He had sat on the floor with his arms holding him up, but he sat forward suddenly to clap. “I reckon it’s time for the ickles to sleep. We can discuss more tomorrow, yeah?”
“I’m fourteen,” Ginny frowned.
George gave a short laugh. “You’ve proved the point.”
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood up with sighs. Valerie followed, knowing she wasn’t among the younger crowd but feeling as though it was a soft demand that everyone return to their rooms.
“Oi, Carter,” Fred stood up hastily as she was the last in the lineup at the door.
She rubbed her eyes and turned to face him, looking up with half-lidded eyes. “Hm?”
She was exhausted, and she was frowning, and Fred found himself trying to remember why he stopped her in the first place as his heart soared. He had wanted to go over more of the plans for the shop. He appreciated her input, a few of her ideas already named and with a price on their working plans.
Unfortunately, she had a glassy look in her eyes and he knew she’d be down for the count within minutes. Yet she stood there, eyebrows strung up and patiently waiting for his response.
He had to ball his hands into fists to stop himself from picking her up and carrying her to bed.
“...Goodnight,” he finally said.
She smiled lazily, almost laughing. “Does Apparition affect brain function?” she managed with a yawn.
His mouth settled somewhere between a scowl and a grin. “You’re quite the broken record, aren’t you? All this talk about Apparition- thought you were feistier than that.”
She frowned and found herself slowly sputtering, her brain begging her to choose between the two responses it had lined up: “I am feisty!” and “What do you mean I’m feisty?!”
Instead, a nonsensical babble left her mouth in a single breath and she turned to head to bed.
“Maybe not Apparating affects brain function?” Fred snickered softly from his doorway.
Without casting a glance back, she flipped him the bird.
It went on a steadily growing list of things he liked about her.