Ch. 23: The Last Time

Song For Chapter: The Last Time - Taylor Swift & Gary Lightbody (check out the video on the side.... yes, I made it - I'm sappy that way, okay?!)

FRED'S POV: 

    Where is it?! I cursed under my breath, pacing around my room in the flat above George and I's shop, practically trashing the place in search of my book of letters to Elle. It wasn't in the place I'd last left it. It was gone. 

    As I thought back to it, I couldn't remember seeing it for almost a whole week. Wringing my fingers together, I stomped downstairs and into the main building where George and Reyna, our new employee, were sorting through boxes to prepare for today's opening. 

    "George," I poked my head around the corner, glaring down at him. "Have you seen a little, green book around here?" 

    George shook his head, grabbing a pink jar from the box and setting it on the shelf. "Nope, but -" He paused as Reyna, an older witch around the age of thirty five or so, grinned and nodded, interrupting him.

    "Actually, I saw it a few days ago," she nodded arranging some things.

    I waited for her to continue, but she didn't so I prodded her on, "And? Where was it?" 

    "Oh," She waved her hands around her face, a smirk spreading on her face, "Ginny was toting it around like a golden goose! It was rather hilarious, really." 

    George and I spared each other the same, confused expression at the phrase 'golden goose', but I shoved it to the side, realizing I had bigger problems. 

    "Ginny." 

    I didn't even bother saying goodbye as I apparated from the stairs to my bedroom at the Burrow, feeling a sense of irritation and a tiny bit of fear and embarrassment in the pit of my stomach. Those letters weren't meant to be read by anyone - especially not Ginny. Stupid little sister, snooping around where she doesn't belong. 

    "GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY!" I hollered, stomping out of the old room and into the hallway, causing a squeal to echo from across the hall.

    I stormed towards Ginny's room, but was momentarily blocked by my mother as she flustered around me, hugging me. "Welcome home, Fred - it's a bit early, but if you'd like, I'm making hot cakes."

    "Thanks, mum," I spared her a grin, nodding. "I could always eat some."

    She smiled warmly and cupped my cheek with affection before trudging off, not noticing how seething mad I was towards Ginny, or not caring. Once she rounded the corner, I dropped my smile and slid over to Ginny's door, nailing my fist against it.

    "W-Who is it?" Ginny's voice floated out of her room as she pretended to be unaware of the trouble she was in. 

    "Ginny, give me my book - now."

    Ginny didn't respond to my comment, so I pushed the door open and connected eyes with her as she sat, cross-legged, on her mattress, a guilty smile plastered on her cheeks. "What book?" 

    "I don't have time for this," I brushed her comment off and began shifting through her drawers, thumbing through everything in search of the letters. Hopefully she hadn't shown them to any one. "Those were private, you have no right to go through my stuff," I prattled on as she merely sat there, hands in her lap, guilty face staring idly into her lap.

    I stopped and leant against her drawer, furrow developing on my brow. She was too silent; she wasn't even angry that I was going through her things. "What did you do?" Something was up.

    A nervous giggle tumbled from her lips and she scratched the back of her neck. "Well," Her light brown eyes glinted as she paused, "You see... It's kind of a funny story... I sort of don't have it any more." 

    "What do you mean," I clenched my fists, "You 'don't have it anymore', Ginevra?"

ELLE'S POV: 

    I clutched the letter in my hands again, reading over the familiar words. I had to have had the letter from Fred memorized by now. It had been a few days since he's sent it. It seemed odd, though. The letter was addressed to me, but it felt more like a diary entry than something Fred would have constructed. It wasn't too romantic or anything, proving that it really was Fred that wrote it, but nonetheless, it still felt off. 

    Hermione flipped the page on her book and glanced up at me, I could see the pity on her face. "Elle, are you just going to sit at the window and read that thing again? It's been a few days," She trailed off, weighing out what she wanted to say. "Don't you think you should respond?"

    "No, I don't think so," I shrugged, eyes still glazed onto the parchment in between my fingers. "I don't know what to write."

    She huffed out a frustrated sigh, murmuring under her breath about how I was a hopeless cause, but only turned to the next page in her book. So much for sisterly love. 

    I fiddled with my wand in my hands, twirling it and balancing it between my hands as I sat beside the window, a blank sheet of paper in front of me and a pen set to the side. How was I supposed to respond to Fred's letter? It wasn't a really big 'topic starter' to be honest.

    "Just tell him you love him." Hermione's voice sounded from my right, she'd appeared behind my shoulder, causing me to jolt in shock and snap my wand. Electric blue sparks fizzed out from the two broken pieces as I watched my wand die in front of my eyes. 

    "Hermione!" I smacked her, feeling a piece of myself die on the inside with my wand. "Look what you made me do!" 

    Hermione's mouth turned into a frown as she assessed the damage, but there was nothing to be done for it. It was done for. "I'm sorry, Elle, I didn't think you'd be so jumpy."

    There was a knock on our door just as I raised my fist to punch her. "Girls?" Dan pocked his head into our room, eyes flickering from my clenched, mid-air fist and the broken wand on our desk. "A bird came and dropped this off for Elle."

    Our father lifted a small, green book into the air and came inside to set it down between Hermione and I. "Play nice, girls," he chuckled, shaking his head before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. 

    "Great, a book," I smirked a bit, broken wand momentarily forgotten. "It doesn't really have a title or a letter from whomever sent it."

    Hermione grabbed the book off the desk and flipped it over, looking for a name or any identification on the cover, but none were to be found. "Do you think Fred could have sent this?" She questioned, a grin on her face as she teased me. I'd morphed her into a different being.

    "Don't be silly," I rolled my eyes, taking the book from her and changing the subject back to my broken wand. "You owe me a new one."

    "Then, we will go to Ollivander's when we get our supplies for Hogwarts, which should be in the next few hours," She shrugged it off, as if wands broke all the time. Maybe they did around her, but I'd had mine since I was eight. It had been my handy companion for over eight years now. 

    I sighed, frowning as I took the two broken pieces of my wand and placed them in my pocket, purposefully ignoring the book so I wouldn't seem too curious to Hermione. I was nervous about going to Diagon Ally, I wasn't sure if I'd run into Fred, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to. I allowed myself a total of two minutes before I gave into my own intrigue and flicked open the hard cover of the book.

    The contents surprised me. They were letters; letters addressed to me. The first one was from April second, the day after Fred and I broke up. It was short, and a lot of it was scribbled out. Yet, the message was still the same. It was the same regret that I'd felt.

        'April 2nd,

    Elle, I'm not entirely sure if you even want to talk with me right now. I'm not sure what to say. I know for a fact that I'll end up tossing this letter into the trash, but I think I should write it down anyway, get it off my chest, you know? 

    I can't shake the look in your eyes. It was so hurt and depressed, I hate knowing the fact that I was the one who put that look in them. But, what was I supposed to do? You wanted to break it off - didn't you? I just want you to be happ-' There was a large area after this that was thickly scribbled out in black ink.

    'I-' Again, he seemed to regret what he'd written and crossed out the words. 'Maybe we could have worked it out. Would you have stayed if I had told you that I didn't want to break up? Or, would you have run away anyway?  I know now that I'll end up not sending this letter. It's too sappy. It's too soon. 

        I'll write you soon, Elle. I promise - a real letter, too. 

                        Fred.'

    It was only after I'd finished the first page that I realized I was leaking tears. Fluttering my eyelashes, I blinked the water away rapidly and rubbed a fist against my cheeks, wiping the sadness away. Sniffling, I lightly closed the book and set it aside, not wanting to read any more of it right now. 

    Damn you, Fred.

FRED'S POV:

    "Where is it?!"

    Ginny paced around her room, doing everything possible to avoid my gaze. "I've already told you!" 

    "Yeah, and I think I've got a bit of fluff in my ear or something, Ginevra," I raised my voice, taking another step closer, Ginny glaring as I said her full name. She knew I was angry whenever I did that. 

    "Fred - I am sorry, really - "

    "Why would you do that?!" I growled, pulling a fist through my red hair and tugging at the roots slightly. "How could you meddle in my affairs like that?!" I paused and sent her a sharp eye, "Of, I forgot you are just like mother."

    Ginny's eyes narrowed and she reached for her wand. "Take that back or I'll Bat-Bogey hex you, Frederick!" 

    "You have no right," I crossed my arms over my chest, sighing and realizing that there was nothing I could do. Ginny had sent the book to Elle, and I still hadn't the faintest idea why. "Why did you do it?" 

    "Well, I sent her the last letter you wrote, but then I started to read through them, and they were so romantic," She explained waving her hands around melodramatically. "And, I just thought that maybe Elle deserved to know how you really felt, you know? You kind of are a tosser sometimes, and you both are one teaspoon short of a full set." 

    I furrowed my brow at that analogy, but shook it off, "Look - I," There was really nothing that could be done for it, the deed had been done. Elle was more than likely leafing through the pages at this very moment. The mere thought of it made dread fill the pit of my stomach. "Everything is double at Weasley's and Weasley's for you, from now on."

    Ginny's mouth popped open, a pout growing on her lips. "B-But, we were all going to Diagon Ally today and I wanted to check out your little, fluffy creatures!"

    "I don't care."

    "For how long?!" She demanded to know, mirroring me as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

    I shot her a dead-panned eye and shrugged. "However long I'm miffed at you." Before she could complain to me, I disapparated from the Burrow and found myself back at the shop where George and Reyna where just opening for the day.

    "Did you find it?" Reyna asked, tucking some hair behind her ear as she peered up at me.

    I nodded and sent George an irritated look, to which he quickly realized something was wrong. "She took it when her and Ron were here last, and she sent it out-" 

    "-To Elle?" He finished, humor in his eyes at my misfortune. "I told you, mate. Don't leave things like that out when any of the three are here: Ginny, Blake, and Mum are all meddlers."

ELLE'S POV:

    My eyes scanned down the expensive list of books that were required for next year. It was a lot, but we had more than enough money from Jane and Dan. We'd pretty much bought everything on the list, but Hermione didn't want to take a break for the life of me. 

Sixth year students will require:

        -The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6) by Miranda Goshawk

        - Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage

        - Confronting the Faceless

        - A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

        - Advanced Rune Translation

        - Flesh-Eating Trees of the World

             "Hermione, let's get some ice cream." 

    Hermione didn't respond.

            "Hermione, can we go look at the owls and cats? I think Crookshanks needs a friend!" 

    Hermione ignored me, pulling my sleeve through the light crowds of people and towards a tall, old building. Painted in faded, golden letters was Ollivander's. It seemed like a dump, but as we neared the windows, I could see all the interesting artifacts that were proudly displayed in the windows.

    "Hermione, can we get some pizza? I'm starved," I watched her face as she opened the door for me to walk inside. "Hermione? Pizza? ...Hermione?" 

    "No!" She shouted, a grin on her face, but agitation in her eyes. "No, Elle - you've been stalling on getting a new wand since we first got here," She huffed out and tucked a stray piece of frizzy hair behind her ear. 

    "It's fine, see?" I reassured her, pulling out my wand pieces and offering them towards her with a crooked smile. "All we need is some Spell-o-Tape and it'll be good as new." 

    Hermione rolled her eyes at me and pushed me into the mysterious shop, a tiny bell sounding as we walked in. "Oh, hello Neville," Hermione grinned lightly.

    Standing next to the window and waiting for something, Neville sent the two of us a grin and waved. " 'Ello, I needed to get a crack mended, what are you two doing here?"

    I didn't respond, but simply held up the two broken parts of my wand, watching Neville's face cringe at the sight. 

    "How did you do that?" He chuckled, his tone hinting that he wasn't surprised. 

    Hermione chuckled as an older, decrepit man hobbled around the counter, holding a box out to Neville. "She was thinking about writing a letter and I scared her."

    Neville rose a brow at that comment, paying the man, who I assumed was Ollivander, and turned to us. "You let Hermione scare you bad enough that you snapped your wand in two? You must have been really distracted, then." 

    I shot Neville the stink-eye, but let his teasing slide. 

    "Be careful with that wand, Mr. Longbottom," The older man called out as Neville walked towards the door. "It's very bendy, and should be treated with precaution as the mending process takes place for the next couple of days."

    Neville nodded and thanked Mr. Ollivander for the help before sending Hermione and I a small wave goodbye.

     "Well, how can I help you ladies?" Mr. Ollivander hobbled over to Hermione and I, clouded grey eyes boring into mine. 

    I lifted up my wand, showing him the damage that I'd accidentally done, due to Hermione. "Can you mend this?"

    Ollivander picked up the pieces and tsked, shaking his head. "This is well beyond repair, I fear. But, I am always willing to offer you a new wand?" His nimble fingers ran over my wand, examining every area and cranny. "This one seems to have worn out it's welcome anyway."

    A pout formed on my lips and I sighed, shooting Hermione a pissed off eye. "It's all your fault."

    "Don't be such a baby, Elizabeth," Hermione rolled her eyes, pulling a book from her satchel and sitting down in a waiting chair, "It was an accident."

    Mr. Ollivander ignored our fighting and stalked to the back room, muttering under his breath, twitching slightly. By the looks of him, he was restless. Something had been keeping him from sleep for the past couple days, possibly the Death Eater attacks. 

    Hermione and I were having a silent, angry staring contest when he finally returned, two boxes in hand. "Alright, Miss Granger - let's try this first one. It's almost identical to your sister's. Vine, nine and three-quarter inches, slightly bendy and a dragon heart-string core."

    The wand was very pretty, to say the least, but it was almost exactly like Hermione's - just a shade darker in finish. I took the wand into my hands and pointed it at Hermione's book. A stream of hot air shot out of the tip like a jet engine and blew the book from her finger tips. 

    "Really?" 

    I feigned a shocked and innocent simper. "Oops?" 

    The next box held an ebony wand that had intricate carvings of twisting branches on the sides. "This one," Ollivander continued as he placed the rejected wand back, handing me the other, "Is something I have discovered with twins. You occasionally have the set that have identical wands, but most of the time the owner tends to be as diverse as possible."

    "So, what's it made of?" I asked, raising a brow as I placed the smooth, long wood into my palm, flickering it slightly. As I did, a golden stream of sparks flew out the tip and created the mirage of a butterfly. 'Is that a good sign?' By the look in Ollivander's eye, it was.

    "It's made of dogwood. Native to North America. You will find that it is twelve and one-half inches with a unicorn hair core."

    "What does that mean?" 

    "I have found that matching a dogwood wand with its ideal owner is always entertaining. Dogwood wands are quirky and mischievous; they have playful natures and insist upon partners who can provide them with scope for excitement and fun."

    I listened to the cooky man with a dopey grin on my lips. He made it seem almost... well.. magical, the process of finding the right wand. It was an art that he was no doubt passionate about. Hermione paid the man and I made sure to thank him for his kindness. 

    "See?" Hermione chuckled as we walked down Diagon Ally. I couldn't help but notice how many shops had closed down. Only the educational shops and dark magic ones were still running rather smoothly. "I told you it wasn't anything be scared of. Ollivanders is the best wand shop there is."

    "It still sucks that I broke my old one."

        "Yeah, yeah."

    I felt my stomach drop as we rounded the corner on the street and neared the ninety-third building on Diagon Ally. The place was booming, just like I envisioned it would. The blank mannequin that had been on the building before was now in the image of the Twins, with a top hat that did a trick with a metal rabbit.

            Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

    Hermione stopped at the window and peered in, a soft smile on her lips. "Can we stop in for a bit? I want to see what they have been up to."

    A crevasse furrowed in my brow and I hugged my bag to myself, feeling the rough edges of Fred's journal inside, bumping against my torso. "I-I don't really want to, can't we just go home, 'Mione - we have everything we need."

    Hermione gave me a half-smile and nodded. "Okay, I won't force you." 

    "Thank yo-"

    There was the sound of a bell tinkling behind us as we started to walk away, and, I felt my flesh freeze. "Elle?" My breath left my lungs, almost as if I'd been socked in the gut, and my eyes met with Fred's. Fred kept his eyes locked with mine for a moment, but realized that neither of us were willing to look away first, so he turned his brown irises down to the ground. "Hermione? What's... what's up?"

    George cropped up and gave the two of us a nervous grin, cradling a miniature sized dragon in his hands. I opened my mouth as if to question the beast, but thought better of it. 

    Hermione answered, "We are just doing some early shopping for school, but," Her brown eyes flickered onto me as I clenched my fists around my purse, still having my mind dwelling on the book that I'd brought with me. "But, Elle is feeling a bit ill - so we are heading home."

    "Will you be alright?" Fred stepped forward, worry on his face. "I heard," he paused, clearing his throat and leveling his tone. "I heard you were admitted to Saint Mungo's for a bit after Georgie and I left."

    "I'm fine."

    "Good," He nodded, his jaw tightening a bit as he began to turn away.

    "Great, actually," I breathed out, feeling my knees wobbling under me. I didn't know what compelled me to want Fred to feel as if I was functioning just fine without him, but it was a strong sensation inside me.

    "Good," He nodded again, turning his back to me and brushing past George so he could get inside, running a hand through his fiery hair and mussing it, causing the neat nature to mess up and stick in odd directions.

    Once he was gone, I felt bad.

    Cursing under my breath, I mentally kicked myself and stalked up to George, pulling the little, green book out of my bag. "George, could you give this back to Fred for me? I think he mailed it by accident."

    George's eyes narrowed at the sight of the journal, but he took it anyway, slipping a tight smile onto his lips. "Sure thing, Letter."

FRED'S POV: 

    I was doing it again. That thing that I'd always chuckled with George about when Father was nervous after long days at work. Pacing. 

    Elle returned my book, and George had set it on my desk. It was gleaming up at me, waiting to be read and waiting to mock me. Things with Elle and I were never going to be the same. We couldn't even hold a civil conversation any more. 

    Since when had we been so spiteful?

    I flopped down into the chair at my desk and sighed, resting my head in the palms of my hands. This day couldn't get any worse, could it? It had only been about two hours after Hermione and Elle went home that someone on Diagon Ally told us the news. Ollivander had been abducted without a trace. 

    The only signs pointed to Death Eaters. 

    Frowning, I picked up a quill and flipped open the book. I might as well write an entry about the event that had happened. "What the -?"

    As I opened to the next page, after the one that Ginny had torn out and sent to Elle, I found that a new letter had already been written in the spot. It was a rebellious, messy, and interesting scrawl that I found could only belong to one person.

        'Dear Fred,

  You want to talk? Let's talk. -E'

    My eyes scanned the letter not once, but three times. Each read was like a new door opening and an old door slamming shut. "Elle?"  

ELLE'S POV: 

    I was pacing. There was nothing else to do. It was terrible. I felt like a stupid school girl that had been caught trying to pass notes in class, or something. Scratch that - that was a stupid analogy. But, I was nervous. 

    Why had I even done it? I should have left it alone. I should have just returned the book and let everything die down. I shouldn't have responded. 

    But, I did. And, now I was forced to be tormented for the next few hours, thinking over and over again that it was a dumb idea. And, it was.

    "Here's your ice cream?" Hermione offered me a bowl of french vanilla and I gladly took it. Devouring my feelings like the fat girl at heart I really was. "What is the matter?" She prodded, realizing that I was acting more bat-shit crazy today. "Is it because we saw Fred?"

    "No - yes - no," I blurted out the sling of words in a jumbled mess, finally settling on, "Not exactly."

    Hermione arched her brow at this. "What does that mean?"

    "It means that I did something really stupid, but it probably doesn't even matter because it won't work. At least, I think it won't." I tried to shrug it off, but the shrug came off more as a nervous twitch. "Forget I said anything."

    "No," Hermione's lips quirked out a giggle, "What did you do?"

    I shoveled a large spoonful of creamed ice into my mouth and cringed as my head immediately ached. But, I refused to answer Hermione, keeping my mouth full in protest. "N-uthin'."

    She let the subject drop, but I could tell she was extremely curious still. I slowed down on my intake of ice cream and sat against the window sill, staring out into the cold, summer night air. It was cloudy out again. Another Death Eater attack was probably happening, if it didn't already happen. 

    It was odd to think how quickly the world was deteriorating around us, but the only thing I was concerned about was my relationships with people around me. Was that a totally selfish thing? Probably. Was it a frivolous thing to be worried about? Definitely. Did I really care, though? No, not really.

    I curled up in a blanket as I sat against the window and felt myself slowly begin to sink into a dreamless sleep. The kind of sleep that only barely gives a person enough rest after a long day of stress. I was sinking deeper into dreamland. 

    "Elle," A muffled voice called in the early hours of the morning, in the darkness of Hermione and I's room. "Elle!"

    Frowning, I glanced out the window and came face to face with Frederick Weasley, hovering on his broomstick outside the window pane. I practically jumped out of my skin and clutched at my heart. "Bloody hell, Fred!" I narrowed my eyes at him, "What the hell do you want?!" 

    "I read your letter." 

        Oh. Right.

    "And?" I crossed my arms over my chest, keeping my voice down so Hermione wouldn't wake up and hex the both of us, getting herself expelled in the process. "I didn't say come to my house at thee in the morning and scare the shit out of me."

    A wicked grin spread on Fred's lips. My grin. The one that made my heart quake. "Sorry 'bout that, but you are right. We need to talk, L."

    "And you think now is appropriate?"

    Fred shrugged and pressed his hand against the window, getting a foggy handprint on it. "I couldn't wait 'til morning."

    "That's adorable," I stated sarcastically, but inside I really meant it. Even if I did think it was a line. "But, I was having a lovely dream."

    "Good thing you woke to my face."

    I rolled my eyes, but allowed a grin to spread on my cheeks. "You haven't changed at all, you know that?" 

    "You haven't changed either," Fred's smile slipped off his lips, but it still gleamed in his eyes, lighting up the dark colors nicely. He let our conversation drop for a little, but he slowly picked it back up. "Why did we break it off?" It wasn't a derogatory question, but more of a reminiscing one. 

    "I don't know," I admitted, tearing my eyes away from his, despite the fact that they were clouded by the second floor window, they were still piercing. "I don't know."

    Fred rested his forehead against the window, letting a sigh out of his lips. "We aren't very good at this, Letter."

    "At what?" I sniffled, feeling the familiar lump growing in my throat. I felt sick and lonely and miserable - all in one. Why did it seem like Fred was the glue that used to hold me together? I didn't need him like this before. 

    "At being together. I love being with you," He told me, and, in the darkness I could see the feint pick rising up his neck, "But we are terrible with relationships."

    "You're right."

    "Elle?" Fred frowned and adjusted himself on his broom, "I need to tell you something..." 

    "Yeah?"

    "I kinda... I sorta... I think I, well..," He reached up and scratched the back of his neck, keeping his eyes trained on the broomstick beneath him. "I think I'm in love... with you - and I don't know where to go from there."

    "Fred, I-" I felt a flutter in my chest, and I raised my eyes to peer into his, but the Weasley boy quickly interrupted me.

    His voice faltered a bit. "But, I don't know if you feel that way - and if you think you do, put my name at the top of your list - because I don't think I want to stick around in this 'what if' zone. I don't do 'what if', you know? And, bloody hell, if you don't feel the same - tell me now."

    "Fred, I-"

    "Because, it's been you all along, and -"

    "Fred, I-"

    "And, I'm sorry about that day, I shouldn't have let you walk away. I won't hurt you anymore. Ginny kind of gave me the screaming of the century on that one. I'm sorry that I haven't been the most attentive -"

    I shot him a glare and raised my voice a bit over whispering, "Would you shut up?! I don't care about all that, I love you the way you are - sure we have our problems, but we just learn from them. I can't let you take all the blame, because it was me too."

    Fred's face broke out into a beaming grin. "You love me?"

    "T-That's completely beside the point," I stuttered out, dodging the question.

    Fred rose a brow, grin only growing. "Do you?"

    "Fred, I thought we were going to have a conversation about -"

    Fred leant back on his broom, face growing serious as he pressed against the window pane, pushing the unlocked window open so he could look directly into my eyes. "This is the last time I'm going to ask, Elizabeth Rose Granger," I bit my lip at the use of my full name. It meant Fred was serious, and it meant that depending on my answer, our relationship would never be the same, no matter what I said. "Do you love me?" 

    My eyes danced back and forth from his serious stare to the quizzical brow. I wasn't sure that I was ready to take things to the 'next level', whatever that may be, but I knew for sure that I didn't want to lose Fred again. Not when I had him so close to me once more.

            "Yes." 

~~~~~~