Ch. 31: The Storm [Part One]

Song For This Chapter: Big Bad World — Kodaline

[i have postponed this
for so long, but there's no
more room to drag it out]

"Let's run away."

I tried not to look too desperate as I said this, holding a hand against my stomach and watching as Fred began to gather some candies into a box for shipping. Fred paused and lifted his eyes, startled.

"What? Are you scared of a little fight?"

"Fred," I sighed, "come on. We don't have anything to prove! We've done our share, isn't that what all of this has been about? Being helpful, but staying out of the way?" Fred taped the box shut, unable to look at me. I couldn't stop the words from leaving my mouth, even though I didn't even believe them myself. "So, let's continue to stay out of the way."

I never wanted to run from a fight. I had always demanded to be trusted with the safety of my friends and family and never backed down. So, why was I acting so strange?

I could see it in his eyes. He knew that I knew that he knew the truth. I was scared, terrified of losing him.

"Alright, then." Fred set the package to the side, leaving it for George to take care of.

"Alright, what?"

Fred grabbed a couple of duffel bags by the door and tossed one to me, slinging the other over his shoulder. "Come on, Letter," he chuckled, "you want to go, so let's go. As long as we're together, it should be fine."

Frowning, I looked over my shoulder. Something was off, everything was off. There was something coming, and instead of fighting it out, Fred style, he was alright with leaving. I couldn't even remember what we were running from.

"I'll just grab the little tyke and we'll be off," Fred smiled, leaving me standing in the store room with a look of confusion stamped across my face.

Little tyke?

Dropping the bag to the floor, I left the room to follow Fred. At the base of the stairs, Fred was kneeling down, picking up a small child clad in fireman pajamas and clutching a small blanket in his hand from the ground.

The boy was small for his age, which I presumed wasn't very much, with a halo of dark brown curls and a pale complexion.

Who the hell—

"Mommy, I'm tiwed," the boy complained, being hushed by Fred as he cradled him against his chest. The kid rubbed at his eyes and blinked up at me, his brown eyes groggy and clouded in sleep; Fred's eyes.

"What the fuck!" I gasped out, startled as I awoke from the crazy dream. Beside me, Fred grunted and stirred in his sleep. He muttered something under his breath along the lines of "what" or "huh", but I didn't answer him.

Yanking off my covers, I jumped from my warm bed and into the cold room. It was light out, and I was sure that the sun was well enough in the sky, but my heart was still pounding a million beats a minute as I ran down the hall of Aunt Muriel's manor and rounded the corner, almost knocking George down in the process.

"Woah,"

"S'rry!" I breathed out, padding down the stairs and reaching the base of them before turning on my heel and staring at the base of the staircase, waiting for something.

It was here. The kid was here.

It had felt so real.

George frowned down at me from the top of the stairs, trying to not sound too rude as he voiced his question. "Er, Letter, what's the matter?"

I'd had a son.

I scoffed at myself and placed a hand over my stomach with a heavy sigh. Inhaling and exhaling. What the hell was I even doing? The kid wasn't real. Licking my dry lips, I sucked in a deep breath and looked up at him, laughing at myself a bit. "I have no fucking idea," I admitted.

"Such language!" Aunt Muriel hissed from the dining room. It was quite a distance from the stairwell, but she had somehow still heard it. "Not in my house, dear."

I turned towards the dining room, raising my voice so she could hear me clearly and wouldn't find another reason to scold me for mumbling. "Sorry, ma'am."

"Mhm."

George's brother joined him at the top of the stairs, their identical judgments floating down to me. "Mate, something's wrong with your girl."

"Mate, she woke me up yelling in my ear: what the fuck." I ignored the shrill voice he used to mimic me. "And, I'm wondering what the fuck myself," Fred said, earning a laugh from his brother and a protest from Aunt Muriel.

"LANGUAGE."

Fred rolled his eyes and waved off her words as the pair joined me at the base of the stairwell. "Bloody coot," he whispered. George, Fred, and I froze for a solid ten seconds, waiting to be sure that Muriel hadn't heard that.

Slinging an arm around my waist and walking with me to the kitchen for breakfast, Fred arched a brow. "So, hun, what's got you cursing?"

I blushed and ducked my head, unable to find the words. I couldn't tell him about the boy. It wasn't fair to him. It wasn't fair to me. My heart fluttered and then sunk in my chest. The kid had been adorable, but I wouldn't know what to do with one. I wasn't a fan of them, the little, disease carrying, sticky monsters.

Solemnly, I pushed the image of Fred cradling the boy away from my mind. I couldn't think about that. I didn't want to let myself get carried away.

"Good afternoon, kids!" Arthur smiled over this morning's copy of the Daily Prophet, sipping a mug of tea as it fogged up the glass of his spectacles. "Late morning, I see."

Molly huffed and placed a few sandwiches on the table for the three of us, shooting a knowing eye at her husband. "Some of them were out late... swimming."

"If it makes it any better," I bit my lip, aware that if I smiled too much Molly would probably think I enjoyed bugging the hell out of Aunt Muriel, "we had a mediocre time. The water was slimy and chilly."

Molly plated a sandwich for me and smiled, patting my arm. "Oh, I'm not mad at you, dear." She peeked at the crack in the dining hall door and lowered her voice. "I just don't want to upset Muriel any further. She's doing us a great favor, you know."

I bowed my head. "I know."

"Oh, dear," Molly sighed. Surprising me, Molly wrapped me up into one of her warm hugs and squeezed me tight. "Times are rough."

JENNA'S POV:

"Neville, I need to tell you something," I said, heart racing as I stared into the blue pools in front of me. "I like you, like a lot."

I took a deep breath and sagged my shoulders, leaning over the sink and resting my forehead on the cold, glass mirror I had been talking to. "That sounded good," I muttered to myself. I couldn't possibly say it to him in real life, but it sounded nice enough when I said it out loud to myself.

I couldn't tell him in person; I couldn't risk it.

"You sound silly," Moaning Myrtle cackled, floating above my head. "You'll never get a guy to like you with a face like that."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I frowned at Myrtle. "You're one to talk, Myrtle! Besides," I lowered my arms to my sides and turned on the water, splashing my face as she watched, "I'm not trying to actually tell him I like him." I turned the faucet off and used my sleeve to brush off the moisture.

That seemed to spark her interest and she floated down to me, her pigtails swaying with a ghostly wind. "Why not?"

"Why do you care?" I asked, a tad defensive.

"Well, I'm cooped up in this toilet all day and night. If I wanted to leave, I couldn't because of those vile Death Eaters that have infested the castle. I'm bored."

"It's complicated."

Myrtle scoffed. "So is death."

The door to the girl's lavatory slammed open. With a puff and a wisp of cold air, Myrtle rocketed away from the mirrors and jumped into her toilet, splashing foul water in every direction. I pressed myself against the sink and quickly tried to grab my wand in my waistcoat pocket.

Standing in the doorway, Rachel Harvard was glaring at me, her wand drawn and pointed at me with deadly aim. "What the hell are you doing in here, Dowell?!"

I felt my fingers brush against the wood of my wand and I tightened my grasp on it, face ashen. The students had gone into hiding for this very reason because students were being tortured for 'practice'. I tried to find my tongue in order to make my words. "Uh, C-Chase."

"What?" She hissed, eyes flashing as she slammed the door shut behind her, taking careful steps to me.

I finally found my voice, swallowing the lump of shock in my throat. "Chase. I'm Jenna Chase. Lana Dowell is my friend."

"Do you think I bloody care who the hell you are?" Rachel flicked her wand at the door. "Colloportus."

She locked the door. Why would she lock the door unless she was going to do something horrible? I whipped out my wand, using my hand as a guide as I took a step back. I would run out of room to flee very shortly.

"Knock it off; lower your wand, stupid." Rachel's voice was quiet as she stepped closer. I took another step back, hitting the sink and feeling dread in the pit of my stomach. Would she kill me? I shoved that thought away. Why would she do that? Probably torture me, but not kill me.

"What do you want?" I squeaked. Shit, I wasn't Lana or Elle. I wished I could be brave like them, but I just wasn't. My heart was beating against my ribs, and it was a bit painful.

Rachel raised a hand, as if she was trying to be peaceful, and removed the hard shell from her features. "Jenna Chase, I'm not going to hurt you, but I need you to promise you won't attack me in defense if I lower my wand."

"Lower your wand first then we'll see," my voice was firm and I tried not to grin at how badass it sounded. For a split second, as Rachel placed her wand into her pocket, I thought about attacking her anyway. She would deserve it, for what they had done to Lana and Seamus and Neville and Luna.

It was a dark thought, one that I knew would feel great doing, but in the most apparent part of me, I knew I would regret it. Rachel placed both of her hands into the air and I could feel the fear and the mounting pressure slowly leave my tight muscles.

"What do you want?" I asked again, more confident this time, as I lowered my wand.

"I need you to get a message to Neville for me," she said.

"Neville?" What would Rachel want with him? Did she like him? I tried not to roll my eyes at that silly thought as it popped up in my mind like a weed. Rachel was a Pureblooded Death Eater; she probably didn't even think of anyone that way. "Why."

Rachel placed her hands on her hips. "Look, Chase, the fact is that time is running out. Now you wanna play twenty questions or are you going to deliver this message for me?"

Twenty questions.

"What's the message?"

Rachel nodded. "Good." She approached me and I pressed closer to the sink rim, still weary of her presence. This could still be some kind of trap for the Death Eaters to find Neville's hide out. He had been causing a lot of trouble for them, and I may not be very brave, but I wasn't an idiot. "Harry Potter is in Hogsmeade. An alarm was tripped, and though the others have brushed it off, Snape seems to be ... fidgety," she whispered.

"Harry Potter?" I whispered back, eyed straying to the locked lavatory door. "How can you be sure?"

Rachel was a bit shorter than I, her violet eyes frightening and wide as she stared me down, her nose inches from mine, too close for comfort. Even though she was shorter, she was a hell of a lot scarier, making my insides churn in fear. I couldn't have felt smaller than anyone else.

"R-right," I nodded, "twenty questions again."

Rachel smirked, patting me on the cheek. "Go tell him that Goat's waiting."

"Goat?"

Rachel turned away from me, the squeak of her black boots on the bathroom floor set my nerves on edge and I bit my lip, keeping my mouth shut.

"I'm going to need you to do something else for me," Rachel said, her brown curls swaying as she looked back to me. "Punch me in the face."

I fought for words. "Uh, excuse me?"

"Punch me in the face."

Before she could take it back, I balled up my fist and socked her in the left eye, getting her to teeter back and stumble. Rachel, surprised, clutched her cheek and peered up at me, eye already starting to swell a bit. "That felt great."

"Neville! Neville, I need to tell you something," I said, pushing my way through the Room of Requirement, trying to get to him as he stood in the midst of the student body, talking to a fourth year. He turned, a happy smile spreading on his face as he saw me approach, making my heart melt a little.

He stepped away from the fourth year, who was still talking to him and nodded, giving me his full attention. "Yeah, Jenna?"

Now would have been a really great time to say what I wanted, but I said what I needed to instead. "Rachel Harvard cornered me in the girl's lavatory and told me to tell you that 'Goat's waiting' with," I lowered my voice, eyes scanning the quiet students around us, "with Harry Potter."

Lana approached from behind me and arched a brow as Neville's face changed colors and he ran for the portrait of a young, blonde girl on the opposite end of the room. "Wait, the Death Eater told you this? What the hell."

"Yeah, and then she told me to punch her."

Lana's brow reached further up her forehead and she smirked. "And I bet you didn't tell her that your uncle thought you how to throw a mean right hook from the age of five?" I squashed the slightly evil laugh that bubbled up in my chest, sucking on my lips to keep the smile down. Lana merely watched my fit and shook her head. "God, it felt so good though."

"Atta girl," Lana cheered, patting my shoulder. "You did good, kid."

A lot of the students were sleeping in their cots as Lana and I sat down in ours, leafing through some belongings and resting out feet. "I don't get it though," I spoke up, playing with the blonde ends of my hair, weaving some strands together, "why would a Death Eater warn us about Harry Potter?"

"I don't know, Jenna," Lana admitted, kicking off her boots and laying back on her cot, arms under her head. The red in her hair was beginning to fade to a soft strawberry blonde color and her blonde roots were starting to come in. Lana had been dying her hair since third year and it had been so long since I'd seen her natural tone that I'd almost forgotten the violent red shade wasn't natural. "Maybe Harvard isn't bad after all."

I rolled my eyes. "This is the same Rachel who attacked Katie Bell last year, mind you."

"I don't know then, maybe she's changed."

"Hmph," I grunted, finishing a braid and moving onto another small section of hair, "right. And maybe you're a natural redhead."

"Hey," Lana protested, patting down her worn hair with a frown, "it doesn't look that bad!"

I shrugged, earning the middle finger from her. We sat in silence for a little while, listening to the quiet of the night as it began to settle in, hearing people begin to fall asleep or quietly become consumed in their own thoughts. Everyone had been on edge lately, and, it was hard to catch any decent sleep.

After some time, Neville returned from the portrait, clearing his throat and asking for everyone's attention. I immediately shot up from my bed and headed over to him, to which Lana cackled behind me. She linked arms with me and leaned in closer to my ear, whispering, "You look like a lost puppy. Tone it down, yeah?"

Shaking her off, I offered her a rude gesture. She laughed louder.

"Guys, listen up." Neville's eyes met mine and I fought the scarlet tint that wanted to ignite my cheeks. "I've brought you a surprise."

Seamus snickered and rested an arm on Lana's shoulder, the pair of them shooting one another a wicked smile. "Not more of Aberforth's cooking, I hope. I'd be surprised if we can digest it."

Neville scrunched up his face in retort to Seamus and took a step to the side, showing off Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley. They almost looked as bad as we did.

As if it was a magnificent magic trick, all the kids in the room jumped up and clapped, cheering on Harry and celebrating his return. I beamed at the sight of them, feeling like there was actually a little hope, for once in too long of a time. Suddenly, there was a rush of bodies pushing everything towards the front, closer to the trio and closer to Neville. He and I shared a look of happiness before he shared the look with others. Raising my hopes and dashing them all at once.

Then, after a couple seconds, two more students came: Dean Thomas, Ginny's ex-boyfriend, and Luna Lovegood, with her doe-eyed smile.

Neville told one of the Hufflepuff students to get the word out to Remus Lupin and the others that Harry was back. A fight was about to break out, and we could all feel it. But, with Harry Potter here, it felt like we could win.

"So, what's the plan, Harry?" Neville prodded, the entirety of the Room of Requirement growing deathly quiet to hear the words of the Chosen One.

Harry stood in the midst of the waiting group, all eyes on him as we strained to hear. "Okay, there's something we need to find. Something that's hidden here in the castle. It may help us defeat You-Know-Who."

"Right, what is it?"

"We don't know," Harry said, face completely straight. Lana cursed in French beside me.

Neville scratched the bridge of his nose. "Where is it?"

Harry adjusted his frames and cleared his throat. "We don't know that either." He looked out among the crowd, eyes downcast. "I realise that's not much to go on."

"That's nothing to go on," Seamus inserted. Lana smirked but elbowed Seamus's side lightly. We needed hope right now, not discord. I tried to listen as Harry talked about Ravenclaw and what he assumed we were to keep an eye out for, but my gaze kept falling on Hermione, Elle's twin sister.

I wanted to speak with her.

Weaving in and out of the group of people, I found a path to her and tapped her shoulder, pulling her aside as Harry spoke. I'm sure she was well aware of the plan already. "Hermione, could I speak to you for a moment?"

"Yes, what is it?" She frowned, stepping closer to me to keep away prying ears.

I tucked some hair behind my ear. "Hermione, have you seen Elle recently? Lana and I have been worried. We haven't seen her since the wedding and owls haven't been getting to Hogwarts. We didn't think it was safe to even try."

She offered me a reassuring smile and nodded. "Of course, I understand your worry. My sister is fine. She's in hiding with the Weasley's right now if I'm correct -- and I usually am." Though her words were confident, I could see the gleam of doubt in her eyes. But, her words comforted me either way. "Is that all?"

"I'm just glad to know she's safe."

Luna Lovegood spoke up, her soft voice cutting me to the core. "That sounds like the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw." She blinked a few times before continuing on. "I can tell you more about it, if you'd like."

"Brilliant!" Harry scoffed.

There was a rumble through the Room of Requirement as someone rushed into the place. The wild, red hair of Ginny Weasley caught the trio's attention and she stopped in her tracks, wide-eyed and smiling at him. "Harry."

"Hello."

Ron mumbled in the background to Hermione. "I'm her bloody brother, but she looks at me like I'm Freddy First Year."

Seamus chuckled. "She's got loads of those. Only one Harry."

"Piss off, Seamus."

Ginny cut the both of them off; she didn't have time to listen to their squabbling. "Snape knows. Snape knows that Harry was spotted in Hogsmeade."

ELLE'S POV:

Fred caught me staring at him for the millionth time today. "Well, you going to tell me what's on your mind? Or, are you just fantasizing about what a majestic creature you've married?"

A small, half smile quirked up half of my face and I shook my head.

But, no matter how many times I shook my head, I couldn't shake the image of our son from my mind. He wasn't even real, but to me... for the first time, it was as if I wanted him to be real.

More than just a figment. More than just a possibility if magic and medicine allowed it.

"What do you think about having a kid?"

"Five, and all girls, no boys."

I remembered that conversation from years ago. He'd embarrassed me in front of the whole Weasley clan, talking about wanting five children in the future. He had said it was a nice 'round number'. Idiot. I smirked, taking a couple steps closer to him and laying my cheek on his shoulder as he packed some Exploding Dung Beetles into a box.

"All girls, huh? Why's that?" I watched his hands work, finding that he had a sort of fluid rhythm to his movements. "I figured you'd want all boys."

Fred snickered. "To be honest, boys are mean. We tortured Ron when he was a kid. Did we tell you about that one time George and I charmed Ron's teddy into a giant, furry spider? He nearly pissed himself crying." Fred's snicker turned into a bubbling laugh as I pictured the three of them as children.

"I think that was just you." I lifted myself up onto the work table and pushed the box aside. "Girls are mean too."

Fred placed his hands beside my legs and leaned forward, kissing me on the lips lightly and repeatedly. "Oh really?" He asked between kisses. "I guess you're right, Ginny was pretty mean growing up."

I pulled away from him, squinting in disbelief. "I don't believe you!" I chuckled as he kissed my neck. "If she was, Ginny was only mean because of you arseholes."

Fred met my eyes, happiness swimming in them. "Arseholes, aye? What happened to 'ass holes'." He tried to form an American accent when speaking, but it wasn't working for him. "You're right, obviously."

"I'm always right."

"Mhm."

Fred leaned in to kiss me again, but I turned my head, trying to remain focused on the thing that I had said before. "Kids though, Fred. What do you think?"

"I thought you hated kids."

I tilted my head from side to side, weighing out his truthful interjection. He was right, of course, kids were the bane of me. "You're right," I laughed, "I was just thinking about it."

He frowned, tossing me off guard. Fred stepped away from me and put his hands in his pockets, looking as if something was bothering him in that moment. "What is it?"

"I do, Elle," he kicked something with the toes of his shoe, "want kids, I mean."

My chest stung. I had known this, but I shouldn't have brought it up. I wasn't even able to have kids, and we shouldn't be paining ourselves with this conversation. "I"m sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

Fred opened his mouth to say something when the muffled sound of someone's voice rang from his pocket. Startled, I jumped from the counter and looked around for the source as Fred pulled a golden coin from his back pocket. "The coins they gave out in Dumbledore's Army, you remember?"

The mouth on the coin was moving, and I simply nodded so we could understand what the boy on the other side was saying.

D.A. CALLING, DO YOU READ?
NEW WEATHER REPORT:

LIGHTNING HAS STRUCK. I REPEAT, LIGHTNING HAS STRUCK

"Lightning? Weather report?" My gaze shifted from the coin to Fred and back again, more confused now than before. "What the hell does that mean?"

Fred's face ignited, his eyes wide. "Bloody hell, it's happening." He turned and ran to the door, tossing it open and calling out for his brother just as George and Blake came bolting through the door, half dressed. I averted my eyes from Blake's bra clad self, but she didn't seem bothered by it.

"You heard it too?" George asked, a grin on his face as he and his brother nodded, communicating in only facial expressions. I hated when they did this, because I couldn't understand what was happening most of the time.

Blake trotted to me and I kept my eyes above her shoulder line. "Elle, Harry is at Hogwarts! You know what that means?"

I suddenly felt sick. My stomach boiled and bubbled. "Oh, he is?"

"They need our help at the castle! Lana and Jenna and Harry and Hermione and Ron, they all need our help chasing those asshole Death Eaters out of our castle!" Blake's face changed from excitement to serious anger, throwing me off as she cracked her knuckles. "Fuck those guys, Elle. It's time we teach them a lesson."

My heart shuddered. It was time. Time to fight.

I thought back to my dream, and I knew that I couldn't just run from my problems. My friends needed me. My family needed me.

I would rather stay and fight and die by their sides than leave them when they needed me most.

My fear boiled into anger. "You're right, Blake. Let's go kick some ass."

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Part One of Three

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