my favorite comment
from the last chapter:
UniversalSoul : "Me, passing around things: Would you like
a knife dear? OR WOULD YOU
JUST LIKE TO TWIST THE
ONE YOU PUT IN MY BACK"

yes, yes the one in your back
will do nicely. thank you.

Ch. 18: Compel Me

Song for this Chapter: The One -- Kodaline

LANA'S POV :

The night rain was falling from the sky as if it was on a mission to soak the world, to drown out everyone. I smiled to myself at the thought. At least if a great, big flood were to come and wipe out all the evil assholes in Hogwarts, it would be worth it.

I hoisted my luggage behind me, not letting it drag in the mud. It would be a bitch to clean, and I was still only one-handed as it already was. Part of me wondered if I was ever going to be able to use my right hand again.

"I can't believe we're leaving for the holidays," Ginny hissed in my ear as the flood of students rushed out into the rain. I watched their joyous faces with a half-smile, knowing a lot of them would not be returning to this hell. "It seems..." Ginny's voice trailed off as she pushed open her umbrella to shield her from the curtains of water hailing down from the sky.

Jenna nodded, agreeing with her unspoken words. "Exactly. It's almost too good to be true. It seems impossible."

Seamus was standing beside me, holding a lantern to navigate with in the dark and an umbrella over our heads in the other hand. I offered him a thank you, as I only had use of one hand and would be soaked to the bone without him.

Standing on the platform, Jenna politely took my luggage and carted it into our compartment, across from the open door of the train. People were still loading into the cars, and so I turned back to Seamus to wish him well. I couldn't wait to get out of this place.

He was standing there, his brown hair cropped short and his face looking like the badly abused side of a punching bag, all red and lumpy. But, there was a glimmer in his eye that told the world he was still alright, under all the bruises.

I crossed my arms over my chest and leant against the door of the train, eyeing him as he eyed me. "You look as bad as my hand."

"Still pretty handsome though, right?" He shot back, gesturing up and down his body.

It was then that I did something I wouldn't normally do, and would probably regret later. Reaching out a hand, I grabbed Seamus by his collar and pulled him into me, laying a fat kiss on his lips. It was fast and feverish, but I made sure to be gentle, because the shape his face was in.

Completely in tune, Seamus moved against my lips, cupping a hand around my waist to draw me closer just as I pulled away. In the corner of my gaze, I caught Jenna blushing and turning away from the scene. She moved to the compartment, only to find Neville and Luna exchanging romantic glances, so she simply turned her attention to her hands.

Seamus seemed unsurprised by my attack, which I enjoyed even more about him. My lips were buzzing from the feeling of him as he offered me a stretched grin. "Are you coming back after break?"

"Highly unlikely." I could see his smile, and it didn't waver for a second. "Though," I bit my bottom lip, feeling it zing with craving for another kiss, "someone could compel me, I suppose."

Not missing a beat, Seamus chuckled. "I'll see you when you get back, Lana."

Smiling to myself, and shaking my head slightly at his antics, I considered the kiss I had planted on him. Part of me was already regretting it, but it had been a lot nicer than I had expected. I wanted to dwell longer on it, on him. Turning my sights back on Seamus, I realised he hadn't made any move to board the train.

"You're not leaving for the holidays?" I knew he could hear the emotion behind that question. I was happy he was smart enough to ignore it.

"Someone's gotta keep an eye on those bloody first years -- and the ones that can't leave too."

It was then that I did something I hadn't done in a long time, too long in fact. I blushed. I could feel it creeping up on my ears and staining my cheeks, turning my whole face a pink hue made worse by my flaming red hair. Even in the dim light of the lantern Seamus was holding, I knew he could see. "God, Seamus, I've never wanted you more," I admitted.

Seamus winked, and faux shyly looked down at his shoes. "You know, Lana, usually I don't put out until the third date."

The train whistle bellowed across the platform, blaring in my head and causing me to jolt in surprise, shooting a glare down the line at the conductor's compartment. I knew he couldn't see me, but it felt nice to glare either way.

Seamus was grinning a mile wide now, the cuts and bruises that covered his face didn't seem to bother him as he put the umbrella back over his head, preparing to make the trek back to the castle.

"It's a date then," I told him. "Only two more to go."

Once against, the train whistle blew, but it wasn't what seemed to startle Seamus as he considered my comment. "You're counting this?" The disbelief in his tone was enough to make me chuckle, even if it was a small, little one.

"Of course, Finnigan. I only kiss on the first date, after all." I murmured, leaning towards him and the train began to slowly move, gripping onto the handle beside the metal doorway I was standing in, grinning wickedly.

Seamus shook his head. "Veelas."

The train was picking up speed now, but I leant out of the side and flipped off Seamus with my bad hand (since I was still holding onto the moving train) as he waved from the slowly disappearing platform. "It's not veelas! It's just me!"

ELLE'S POV :

The funny little thing about Apparation is that you are never really sure where you're going to end up, exactly. Especially if you, like me, have only really Apparated enough times to count on one hand. Or, more like a couple of fingers, but hey.

The horrible sensation of being compressed and expanded all at once was beginning to become oddly bearable as I rocketed through time and space. I wasn't quite sure if I even knew where I was going myself, but something told me Ron may be there.

Falling out of the Apparation, I toppled into a body, knocking them to the ground as we both toppled to the wooden floor, making a loud commotion as a wooden coffee table was flipped over in the process.

There was a mess of limbs and a screech from the person I magically popped onto as they fumbled out from underneath me. Before I knew what was happening, I was flipped onto my stomach and my wand arm was being forced behind my back, strong enough to break my arm.

"Ouch! Shit, let go!" I bellowed, wiggling around in attempt to get them to release their hold, but it only seemed to make the arm lock tighter. "Holy crap," I hissed, twisting my head to the side to glare at the person pinning me down. My eyes met with the shocked gaze of Blake Hall, whose black curls were splayed across her brow in the commotion.

"Oh, God, Elle, I'm so sorry!" Blake immediately dropped her hold on my arm, relieving the pressure. "Are you alright? I am so sorry, I didn't expect to be tackled out of thin air, and I mean, I've been practicing jiu-jitsu since I was seven, so it was pretty natural for me to arm-bar you, and --"

"--Blake, being helped up would make me feel a lot better," I told her, wheezing on the ground. I hated to admit it, but she had knocked the wind out of my for a moment, and I could hardly stand on my own as it was, with the splint and all.

"Oh! Right, right." Blake stood up and hoisted me up with a firm hand. Once we were both standing at eye level, she seemed to have another realisation. "HOLY SHIT, ELLE!"

I chuckled softly to myself, trying not to roll my eyes at her reaction. "Haha, hello, Blake."

"What the hell?! What are you doing here? I thought you were on the lamb, and by lamb I mean run. Woah, have you ever thought about how weird that phrase is though, I mean, really."

"Uh, Blake," I cut off her nervous rambling, noticing the suitcase she had been packing beside the up-turned table, an assortment of odd clothes laying scattered everywhere. "the ... the phrase is lam; lam means flight." Blake began to comment about what I had said, but I cut her off, finding it quiet in the Twins' flat. "Have you seen Ron? It's important, and I thought this would be where he'd go. But, now I figure that the Burrow would have been a better bet."

The knowing look in Blake's eye seemed to pierce deep as she smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "No Ron up here. Are you sure you didn't come here for yourself?"

I frowned and glanced around the empty flat, looking to see if Ron had Apparated in a different room, or even possibly downstairs in the shop. "Ron? Ron?" I called, trudging down the stairs, lugging my splint leg carefully behind me.

A sprout of red hair popped out from the back room, his head craned up to peer at me descending the staircase with shock. "Elle, what the hell?" George called, rubbing his hands on the sides of his tan pants.

"George, is your brother here?" I asked, frowning as I glanced around the shop. It was closed for the night, so there were no customers. It seemed rather dead, even though it was closed. The shelves weren't stocked, and I could see a sign taped to the door. Something was up.

George shared a meaningful gaze with Blake, who was quickly following me down the stairs, before answering my question. "He's outside; what's going on? Any news about Harry?"

"In a bit, George, I just need to talk to him first," I rushed my words out, hobbling awkwardly outside as fast as I could. I knew Ron was angry, but I was sure that we could talk out the problem fairly easily.

Pushing open the backdoor, I squinted through the darkness and the rain, hardly able to see very much in the night. "Ron? Ron?!" I yelled, walking out a bit, hearing the door shut behind me, but still not seeing Ron outside.

"FRED! Actually." A chuckle rang out from behind me.

Upon hearing his voice, I whirled around and latched onto him, kissing his cheek in excitement, feeling a sudden sense of where I was. "Fred, have you seen Ron? I am supposed to find him and convince him of how much of an ass he's been --"

"--What else is new?" Fred chided, wrapping his arms around my waist as we stood out in the cold, him peering down at me with a wicked grin.

"You think you're so funny, but you're not nearly as funny as you'd like to believe, you know."

"Oh, how I've missed that pride busting ability you have, L." I stuck my tongue out at him in protest to what he was saying.

"You love it, Fred."

Fred sighed, sizing me up in his arms before smirking. "Well, I love you, so I guess I have to love all your flaws. Like how badly you smell right now," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose in overdramatic distaste. "Phew."

"Fuck off!" I shoved him away, embarrassed as I sniffed the pits of my worn shirt, cringing as I realised how ripe I really was. "It is pretty bad, isn't it?"

Fred looked around the dark of Diagon Alley and ushered the two of us inside, keeping his head low. Frowning at his actions, I followed his command, a bit confused, but not for long as he explained himself once we were inside the warmth of the shop. "Let's get in here before any Snatchers see you. You do know that there are posters printed up all over London with Harry's face."

"What's that got to do with me?" I challenged, already knowing what he was hinting at without him telling me. I was really just egging him on, wanting to hear his voice some more.

"Well, it's just suspicious, is all." He shrugged, walking around the shop and grabbing a white sheet that was laying on the ground. Cocking my head to the side, I watched as he took the sheet and spread it over the glass counter top of the register.

I looked around the rest of Weasley's and Weasley's, noticing my surroundings for the first time. All around the room, furniture had been covered with these white sheets, and the curtains on the windows were pulled tight. The shop was closed.

In another room I could hear George and Blake whispering to each other about me and what must have happened to send me back here. I was too distracted by the state of the shop to be involved. The fact that Fred and George were closing was very worrying for me.

Stalking to the front door, I pulled the sign from the glass pane and blinked down at the words scrawled on the paper:

CLOSED FOR THE HOLIDAYS (AND INDEFINITELY)

HAVE A HAPPY CHRISTMAS, FRED & GEORGE WEASLEY

KEEP THE FAITH.

Swallowing the fear in my throat, I stuck the sign back to the glass window, and wrapped my arms around my frame as I began to make my way back to Fred and the others.

"Change of plans. We need to send a secure Floo message to mum." Fred motioned to the fireplace, while Blake nodded along. George and I, however, didn't seem to catch on as quick.

George adjusted the green jumper he was wearing and shot his brother a look. "What do you mean?"

Jumping in for Fred, Blake explained with a smile to George. "We can't go to the Burrow now. You know it's being watched. We will have to meet somewhere more discrete, because of Elle's safety."

"Blake's right," George nodded, "I'll send a message to them to meet us at Aberforth's then."

Deciding to jump into the conversation, I turned my head at the name. "Who?"

Fred touched my arm reassuringly. "We'll explain later, but we really need to get going, before any prying eyes appear." George nodded at his brother's tone and jumped to the fireplace, tossing some Floo Powder into the flames and sticking his face into the coals, green flames swallowing his head whole.

"Wait," I glanced around, trying to organize my thoughts. Everything was going by too fast for me to process. "But, what about Ron?"

"Elle, he isn't here." Blake admitted, her eyes zeroing in on my splint incased leg, raising a brow. "But, if he went to Molly and Arthur's, he'll be there when we arrive. What happened to your leg? Would you like me to examine it?"

It was a nice thought, but I was too busy scrambling for the missing information. Arrive where, exactly?" I stubbornly crossed my arms over my chest, staring at Fred. A wash of guilt flooded my chest. "I... I never said I was staying."

"What?"

"What?" Blake and Fred asked together, confused. "Letter, come on let's not get into this now," Fred said, eyes boring into my own with a bit of worry in his gaze. I frowned at the sight, feeling torn, but slightly angry at his word choice.

" 'Get into' what? Fred, I've missed you like hell, and I wish I could stay longer, I do, but Hermione needs me right now," I admitted, lowering my eyes. I couldn't stand to look him in his pleading, brown eyes. I had promised Hermione that I would bring Ron back. I couldn't just disappear.

"Your sister is stronger than you give her credit for," Fred bowed his back, angling his eyes to meet mine, though I had tried not to meet his gaze. When I peered into his eyes, I knew he was telling me the truth. It didn't make it any easier to decide, though.

Noticing the indecision on my face, Blake intervened. "Look, Eliza, I completely understand what you're saying here. I do. But, let's think about it rationally: we are in the middle of a war. In the middle of the hottest button area where Death Eaters patrol every night. We need to get to a safe place for not only you -- but for us too. I mean, blood traitors aren't exactly surviving too well, you know."

That last sentence sliced deep and I tried to speak up. I wasn't sure if I wanted to apologize for her misfortune, or simply tell her that I didn't think that life had been easy for her, but it didn't matter because she kept speaking, mowing over whatever I had wanted to say. "And, once we get to the safe place, you can decide whether you would like to stay or go."

"Blake--"

"--Shut it, Fred." Blake waved him off, earning a scowl and an annoyed stance. "I know how you feel, Elle, to some extent. I'll be leaving the safe place after New Years'," from the opposite side of the room, George tried to speak up about her reveal, "I have a job to do." Then, like a flip had been switched, Blake called over to George. "Are you still speaking with your mum?"

"Yeah, would you like to say something?" There was a tightness in George's voice, but it was still complete understanding. George had always been the less dramatic of the two twins.

I was a bit startled by Blake's ability to tune into almost exactly what I was thinking, and I offered her a smile. "Blake, have I ever told you how amazing you are?" Fred muttered something incoherent under his breath, but we ignored him.

"Of course. I am pretty awesome-sauce." Blake spared me a wink and bounced to George, sticking her head into the flames to speak to Mrs. Weasley personally.

Fred sighed and offered me a half-smile, though I was sure he was frustrated with me. "To answer your question, we're going to Hog's Head Inn. We have a man who helps us with our information."

And so, smelling a week old, I was standing in the middle of the Hog's Head Inn with my leg taped up in a splint, looking at an old man who seemed to only know how to glower at everyone.

Fred had filled me in with some information about Aberforth, their messenger, on our way over, and I found that he was nothing like I had imagined within that small amount of time I had to envision the old man. He was Dumbledore's brother, he's been helping the people in Hogwarts get secret correspondence out, and he's a grouchy old man was all that Fred and George had cared to truly explain.

Holding my tongue to be polite, I smiled at Aberforth as he motioned haphazardly from a table in the middle of the bar for us to come inside. He grunted as we approached him. I noticed that he was a very hairy man, and his long, stringy, wiry grey hair and beard covered most of his face, leaving practically everything to the imagination. He wore spectacles. Behind the dirty lenses, the eyes were a piercing, brilliant blue, as his brother's had been.

The fact that I had not showered in a significant amount of time was beginning to get to me. "Do you happen to have a place that I can refresh myself? I've been without a proper shower for longer than I'd like to admit." I asked him, scratching the back of my neck in embarrassment. I didn't like using random people's showers when I just met them.

Aberforth peered at me from underneath his spectacles and sighed. "I've got a toilet upstairs. There's some strong soap up there as well. The shower don't work great, so I recommend just cleaning up what you can over the sink, unless you like ice showers. Help yourself."

"Thank you so much," I blurted out, practically running for the upstairs bathroom while the others continued to talk amongst themselves while I cleaned up.

The bathroom was alright for the raggedy shape the bar was in. Approaching the sink, I turned on the hot water and let it run until I could see the steam coming from the silver faucet.

Over the sink was a small, glass mirror. Frowning, I realised that this was the first mirror I had peered into for the first time in a while. The first thing I did was dunk my head under the hot water, using the 'strong soap' to clean the grease from my hair. I wasn't too worried about it potentially ruining my locks.

Then, I scrubbed whatever I could by the sink, making sure to take my time in cleaning up my hygiene. I ran a tongue over the film on my teeth and I sighed. Pulling open the drawers beside the sink I found a bottle of peppermint oil and a flask of, by the smell of it, some strong alcohol.

"Help yourself, he said," I mimicked out loud, shrugging to my reflection in the mirror. "Don't mind if I do, then." Unscrewing the cap of the flask, I shot back about a shot worth of alcohol and then squeezed some oil into my lips, trying to hold all the liquid in at once, and attempting to ignore the burn of vodka on my tongue.

Swishing the liquid around in my mouth, I gargled a few times and spat out the concoction into the sink. Surprisingly enough, my breath did smell better after I did that. "Huh... cool," I chuckled, placing the things I had found back in the drawers where they belonged.

My body was still a bit wet from washing everywhere I could, but I put my clothing back on, struggling only a couple times against the fabric on my skin.

Feeling refreshed, I descended the stairs to the bar, where Fred was sitting alone in a single booth, staring up at the ceiling and flipping a coin. He caught the coin midair and looked down at the side that was up. He seemed pleased with what he'd flipped.

I wanted to admit everything about what I was feeling to Fred, so I approached him and laid it all out, sitting across from him. After all, communication was something that we had always struggled with, and I really didn't want this to be a problem bigger than it needed to be. "I think I should be doing something to make a difference."

"You make a difference here," Fred balked, eyeing me in disbelief. "Elle, don't you see that? And, here, you can definitely not get caught and potentially murdered."

Sighing, I leant forward on the table and took his hands into mine, feeling my heart sound happily in my chest. "Hermione needs me, Fred."

"Hermione doesn't need you. She's got more strength than you think, L."

His words stung, though I knew he didn't mean them to. Swallowing a quick retort that I had wanted to say, I let go of his hands and turned my head to the side to look out on of the dirty windows of the pub. "You don't get it, do you, Fred?"

"What? What don't I get?"

My brown crumpled together as I chewed my bottom lip. "Just... say it. Say what you really mean. You and I both know it's not about what Hermione needs. So, compel me to stay."

Fred's ears burned as he reached for my hands once more, intertwining his fingers with mine. "I can't believe you're actually here." He grinned, eyes shining as he grinned my favorite grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling in happiness. "Hermione may not need you, Elle. But," he paused, searching my eyes with his, as if trying to see into my soul, "but, I need you. I want you. I'm planning on needing you and wanting you forever, and I'd love it if you didn't leave again."

"Wow," I arched a brow, "you've been working on that speech for long, have you?"

Fred smirked and rolled his eyes at my dismissal of his admission. He lightly reached out a hand and cupped my chin, bringing my lips to his for the tenderest of kisses.

It was only then, in the middle of the Hog's Head (a dirty pub in the middle of a snow storm) that it finally hit me. I was finally home.

----

OH MY GOD I'M SO TIRED! I STAYED UP UNTIL 4:04AM TO FINISH THIS CHAPTER

SORRY, IT'S NOT EDITED. YELL AT ME IF YOU'D LIKE

sorry if it's lame, it's filler. more to come soon!

no lie, i started falling asleep while typing this, so... haha i wouldn't be surprised if it doesn't make sense in some areas.

So, uh, what's your ship name for Seamus + Lana (if you ship them)?

And, what the hell is up with the whole Neville x Luna x Jenna shit, am I right?