Tuesday December 21
Fred gripped the photo frame in his hands tightly. He stared down at it, tears obscuring his vision, wishing he could reverse time.
Why couldn't he go back and tell his dad not to go to the Ministry that night?
Why couldn't he go back even further and have Harry kill the giant snake that Timmy controls instead of Pettigrew in that graveyard?
Why couldn't he have told his parents to ignore Dumbledore, not follow his orders?
"It's not fair," he moaned for the thousandth time since being ushered from Hogwarts to Grimmauld Place with George, Ron, and Ginny. As soon as they stepped from the floo yesterday morning and saw their mother's pale face, tears freely streaming, and Bill and Charlie stiffly standing with similar expressions, he'd known that something happened. Something bad.
He hadn't expected it to be the death of his dad though.
His kind-hearted dad. His dad who worked so hard to provide for their family, who raised them to appreciate the value of things for what they do, not what they cost. The man who came to Fred and George's first quidditch match, and who laughed happily when they began showing him their inventions.
His dad whose body waited in St Mungo's to be buried on Friday.
"He's gone," Mum had wailed, fruitlessly trying to wrap them all in a hug at once. "He was attacked, I'm so sorry."
Fred's body was wracked with newly painful tremors and sobs once more as he bent over at the waist and recalled the way his mum had broken down at her words.
He'd never seen his mum cry like that. Never seen Bill look so lost. Never knew Charlie's eyes could be so empty.
"Dad." Fred wrapped his arms around himself and let loose all the tears, all the pain, all the terrible and overwhelming agony that he'd been buried in since arriving.
Since losing his dad.
It seemed like hours later, maybe only moments, that there was a small knock on the door before it was gently pushed open.
"It's me."
Fred looked up through his sweat and tear plastered hair and saw that Harry was nervously making his way inside his room.
"Fred, I'm so sorry," Harry said, kneeling down by Fred's feet and staring up at him sorrowfully. "I don't even know what to say."
"He's gone Harry," Fred said dumbly. "My dad, he's gone. Mum said- she said he was attacked during Order business. Shacklebolt said it was a snake bite."
"I know," Harry said softly. "Snape said your dad was on guard for the Order and was bitten by Nagini. Tonks told him."
"He's gone," Fred repeated. "Gone."
"I know."
"Will you sit with me?" Fred asked him quietly. He made a valiant and pointless effort to clear away the tears in his throat with a light cough. "That git—" he jerked his thumb at George's sleeping body, "—isn't much company and I don't fancy being alone right now."
"'Kay." Harry got to his feet and sat gingerly on the bed beside Fred and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Can I do anything?"
"There's nothing to do," Fred said dully. "Percy is at St Mungo's, Bill's downstairs with mum, Charlie's at... at the church," he choked out. "There's nothing to do."
Harry didn't say anything for a few minutes, silently scooting next to Fred until they were flushed together.
"I— I'm bad at this Fred," Harry said quietly. "But I know that it hurt like hell when Snape told me my parents were dead. But sometimes— sometimes people say 'oh Harry they loved you so much,' and that makes me feel a bit better, you know? So... So I bet that your dad loved you so much Fred. He seemed like it to me."
"He did," Fred whispered, clenching the picture frame with an intensity bordering on pain.
Harry reached out slowly for the frame. "Can I see?"
Fred handed Harry the picture frame he'd been sobbing over. "Mum took it the summer before we started Hogwarts," he explained quietly. "George and I wanted to test out some pranks we had planned... We put some purple dye in a bucket of slugs, thinking that Charlie or Percy would be the next one to open the shed door, but..."
"But it was your dad," Harry said quietly. "He doesn't look mad."
Fred smiled sadly at the photo. There were heaps of purple slugs covering his dads already-balding head. His strong and warm arms were slung around Fred and George while he smiled brightly at their mum's camera.
"He wasn't," he said in a choked whisper. "He thought it was brilliant."
Harry wrapped his arms around Fred's stomach, holding him tightly as he was overcome with a fresh wave of painful sobs.
"I- I want him back," Fred sobbed. "I don't even r-remember what I said to him last."
"You told him that you wanted a sword," Harry said quietly. "Remember? You wrote that letter last week after our last defense meeting. You told him about being best in the club with a knife and that you wanted a sword. You also said you were gonna sell muggle knives in your shop, you knew he'd be excited about it. And you signed it with 'Love you dad, from your favorite son'."
Fred had no idea how Harry remembered such a menial thing, but Merlin if he didn't love him all the harder for it.
Fred let Harry hold him, soaking in his quiet strength like a desperate sponge while he cried out his misery. Harry didn't complain about the tears that soaked his jumper, didn't offer up any empty platitudes that the various Order members who came by yesterday did. He just kept quiet, running gentle hands over Fred's heaving back.
Fred was nearly cried out when there was a knock at the door.
"Fred? George? It's Ginny and Ron," Ginny called softly. "Can we come in?"
"Just a mo'," George called, apparently waking up at some point when Fred hadn't noticed.
Harry and George waited patiently for Fred to pull himself together, gratefully accepting the handkerchief that Harry offered him. A wet laugh escaping him when he saw the 'STS' embroidered in the corner.
Harry got up after Fred mopped up his face and opened the door, revealing a very surprised Ginny and forlorn looking Ron.
"Ron, mate, I'm—"
"What are you doing here?" Ginny acute Harry off in an acidic tone that got Fred and George to their feet.
"I—" Harry looked over at the twins and took a small step away from the doorway. "I came to see you guys. I didn't want to bother you yesterday, but—"
"You've got some nerve Harry," Ginny hissed. "Our dad is gone, because of you!"
"What?" Harry reeled back, physically recoiling from the heat in Ginny's voice.
"How d'you work that out?" Fred demanded.
"He's evil Fred!" Ginny shrieked, causing everyone to wince at the noise. "You heard Moody! Harry's a- a curse!"
"No I'm not," Harry said quietly, sending Ron a beseeching look. "I don't care what Moody said, I'm not fuckin evil."
"And even if he was, it doesn't mean he had anything to do with— with what happened," George said loyally.
"DAD WAS THERE PROTECTING A PROPHECY ABOUT HARRY!" Ginny yelled, proving why it was a mistake to let her eavesdrop on Order meetings with them. "IF HARRY WAS DEAD THEN DAD WOULD STILL BE HERE!"
"Shut your stupid mouth about things you don't understand," Fred spat, pulling Harry behind him as he felt his small flinch at Ginny's words.
What a thing to say.
"She's wrong, but not really." Ron finally spoke up, his voice quivering as he defended their sister. "Harry isn't blameless in Dad's d-death."
"Thought Kingsley said it was a snake?" George said.
"Harry was in bed with me when it happened," Fred said firmly, hoping to shut down the fight. "He didn't do anything."
"You're just going to defend him?" Ginny demanded, her hands on her hips and her fire filled eyes looking glassy. "HE GOT OUR DAD KILLED FRED! And you're in here cuddling him!"
Fred shifted a little, relieved to see George mimic his actions, putting themselves between their two heartbroken and furious siblings and Harry.
"Harry didn't kill Dad," Fred repeated. "Dad died on Dumbledore's orders."
"Dumbledore wouldn't have made those orders if Harry had told him everything," Ron said with a sharp glare at Harry.
"Careful Ron, you're getting close to breaking a vow." Harry squeezed himself between the twins to face his friend. "I know you're upset, but don't make this worse, yeah?"
"MAKE IT WORSE? MY DAD IS DEAD HARRY!" Ron screamed. "BECAUSE YOU DON'T TRUST ANYONE!"
"Because I don't trust Dumbledore? You can't be fuckin serious," Harry scoffed. "You don't trust him either!"
"Because you— you've poisoned him!" Ginny shrieked. "You've turned my brothers against our family!"
"Dumbledore is not our family," George said. "Come off it Gin."
"He's done a damn sight more for us than Harry," Ginny spat, which was such a ridiculous statement that it managed to make Fred huff out a laugh.
Dumbledore hadn't done a damn thing for them. Dumbledore put their dad on guard duty for a prophecy that he couldn't be bothered to check that it was even still there. Dumbledore got their dad killed. And if Fred wasn't certain that Harry and Susan had plans on killing the old wizard, he'd do it himself. He still might.
"Suppose I should have left you in the Chamber then?" Harry said coolly. "Let your hero Dumbledore save your sorry arse?"
"You didn't want to save her, you just wanted to kill the basilisk." Ron swiped angrily at the tears on his cheeks. "You didn't give a damn about her."
"She called me a monster! Said she hated me! What the fuck was I supposed to do? Be her best friend?!"
"You cut Fred in the head for fun!" Ginny yelled. "You are a monster!"
Harry looked up at Fred uncertainly. "Was that you that I cut?"
"Sure was," Fred told him with his best effort at a weak grin. "Think that was when I fell in love with you."
"It was a duel Ginny," George said with a level of calm that Fred certainly wasn't capable of extending at the moment. "Pretty sure I sent a bunch of ice knives right at Harry's chest that day."
"You did. It was brill."
"You should go," Ginny said, switching her tactics pretty quickly now. "Nobody wants you here."
"That's not true," Fred said hastily, loathe to give up the comfort that Harry's quiet presence brought him. "I want him here."
"WELL YOU DON'T BLOODY COUNT!" Ginny yelled, the tears in her eyes spilling over now.
"Maybe you should just go Harry," Ron said quietly, but with a cold detachment that Fred knew had to be hurting Harry. "Leave our family alone for a while."
Harry had his head cocked to the side and his eyes screwed up in confusion as he looked between Ron and Ginny. "You— I mean— I'm not bein' a dick or anything, but you know this is technically my house, yeah? You can't actually tell me to leave."
Ginny, who apparently had some mad newfound courage and hatred of Harry pursed her lips like their mum. Ron just looked lost.
It was sad really. Fred wished they hadn't decided right now to pick a fight with Harry. He wanted to comfort his siblings, but he needed to be comforted himself right now.
"It's Sirius' house," Ginny finally said. "And he's letting us stay here."
"And Sirius made me his heir the day I was born," Harry said slowly. "We share assets, don't we? Which, seems like maybe you don't know, but that includes this house."
"Go away Gin," Fred sighed, abruptly exhausted; mentally, emotionally, and physically. "Just— go downstairs with mum and the others."
"That's it then?" Ginny asked. "You're just going to keep seeing him?"
"I'm bloody well gonna marry him too Ginny," Fred blurted, mad as well as exhausted now. Who was Ginny to come questioning his relationship? Harry didn't kill Dad.
"What the fuck?"
Fred really was tired.
He looked down at Harry, who was staring up at him in bewilderment.
"How's Fred Potter sound?" Fred tried making his mad confession into a weak joke so as to not scare off his occasionally terribly skittish boyfriend. "Or you could be Harry Weasley if you want?"
Harry's look of surprise slowly shifted in to a bashful smile. "We could hyphenate?" he offered. "Fred and Harry Potter-Weasley?"
Fred felt a swoop of joy in his stomach, immediately followed by a wrenching guilt for even feeling a bit of joy in the moment, and compensated for both emotions by hugging Harry to his side and burying his face in Harry's hair.
"You're a traitor," Ginny hissed. Fred didn't lift his face, he merely listened as his sister stormed away, followed by a much more slow and unsure Ron after a moment.
"I'm sorry," Harry said softly as soon as Ron and Ginny were gone. "Fred, George, I'm so fucking sorry."
"You didn't do anything wrong," George assured him. "They just—" George swallowed down the lump of emotion in his throat. "They just need time mate. Ron's upset, he didn't mean those things."
Fred kept his face buried until he heard George return to their room, closing the door softly behind him.
"Fred?"
Fred lifted his head to look down in Harry's misery filled eyes.
"I love you," Harry said softly. "Thought you should know."
Fred knew it was a mad reaction, but he was suddenly overcome by a hysterical laugh. He quickly re-caught Harry in his arms once Harry began edging away from him.
"You have the worst bloody timing in history," he said, struggling to control the inappropriate reaction that Harry's confession brought on. "Just terrible Darlin."
Harry's mumbled apology was cut off by Fred's desperate kiss. He clung to Harry, pouring his endless sadness in to his kiss, accepting back Harry's outpouring of regret and sorrow.
"I love you so much," Fred said, backing Harry to the wall to deepen the kiss. "I— I don't know what I'd do without you Harry."
"I'm not leaving," Harry said steadily. "Not if you want me."
"I'll always want you," Fred assured him, pushing their lips back together in a frenzy to just forget about everything else. Harry didn't push him away, only wrapped his hands behind Fred's neck and let him distract himself in their embrace.
Fred could have stayed there all day, forever really, never facing the reality that awaited him, but Harry's godfather clearly had the same terrible timing that Harry did.
"Pup?" Sirius called up the stairs. "Harry? You up there?"
"I'll stay if you want me to, but I think your family might be happier if I left," Harry murmured as Fred groaned at the interruption.
"Yeah." Fred took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. "You should go darlin. I'm gonna..." he trailed off, not really sure what he should do.
"You should sleep." Harry traced the bags beneath Fred's eyes. "D'you want me to send over some Dreamless Sleep?"
"No." Fred caught his hand and kissed the knuckles with overwhelming gratitude that this thoughtful and mad wizard was in his life. "I'll be fine. Will you come back tomorrow, please?"
"Course." Harry detangled himself from Fred's embrace and gave him a small smile. "I love you."
"I love you," Fred assured him.
"Harry?!"
"Gotta go," Harry told him. "I'll be back tomorrow, get some sleep and... and just floo to my place if you need me sooner, kay?"
"Kay."
Fred watched as Harry made his way down the stairs, taking the momentary peace Fred felt with him.
He let out a heavy sigh as he looked from his bedroom door to the doors that he knew Ron and Ginny were probably hidden behind. Fred wasn't a selfish guy, not usually, but he decided that he would go lay down for a bit before trying to comfort his younger siblings. They could handle themselves for a couple hours without him.
Fred slipped back in his room, sharing a look with George, before collapsing face down on his bed.
"Freddie?"
"Yeah?"
"That thing you're in, with Harry? That secret alliance? I want in."
Fred picked his head up and read his twins determination through his blue eyes, identical to his own.
"I'll tell Harry," he said. "It's not a game though."
"Good." George laid down on the side of Fred's bed, unwilling to be far apart when they were both grieving so heavily. "Because I'm done with games."
Fred nodded in understanding. The twins were of a single mind in that moment, every hand that had a part in the death of their dad would burn. No justice would bring back their dad, but they'd be damned if they didn't dole it out regardless.
Time seemed to pass by in flashes the next few days.
Time spent with his family creeped by, determinedly forcing him to see his own misery reflected back by each member. His mother's never ending tears and thick aura of depression. Bill's attempts to help everyone, offering a shoulder to cry on and sharing stories about their dad with them. Fleur, quiet and unsure, dancing around the kitchen and making platters of baked goods that went mostly untouched. Charlie drinking himself in to an unreachable state, his eyes unseeing as he slumped in the recliner in the sitting room. Percy, absent. George hiding himself from everyone in their bedroom, crying out in the night when he was meant to be sleeping. Ron, usually accompanied by Malfoy (who Harry apparently gave their location to for Ron's sake), wandering around the house like a ghost. Ron's eyes were wide and filled with shadows of grief. Fred appreciated Malfoy more than ever during that time. Malfoy just walked with Ron, talking softly and forcing him to eat. Holding his hand steadily when Ron eventually slept fitfully on various pieces of furniture.
And Ginny. Ginny frantically pacing, furiously mumbling. Trading all her heartbreak for rage. Hating that their dad was gone. Hating that there was no bringing him back. Blaming all the wrong people.
Times when Harry snuck over, carefully avoiding the other Weasley's, went by too quickly.
Harry was brilliant; quietly holding Fred and lending him strength as he cried and screamed and went on his own rants at the unfairness of the world. Harry also gently pressured him in to eating, bringing along Fred's favorite snacks, and stroked his hair to keep him sane when he was plagued by memories of his dad while he slept.
"Will you be there tomorrow?" Fred whispered in the middle of the night, dreading the funeral that he would have to go to when morning came.
"Yeah," Harry breathed. "I'll be there."
There wasn't a dry eye, or a smiling face in the group of Weasley's as they dressed the morning of their dads funeral.
It was cruel, burying their dad on Christmas Eve, the day they'd always spent together as a family. It was nearly ironic, in a truly terrible way.
Bill had pooled his resources to make sure that the boys all had new dress robes of respectable black. Fleur bought Ginny a traditional black dress. Apparently Fleur and Bill wanted to honor their dad in any way they could, starting with dressing their best. Fred thought that it would have honored Dad the truest if they'd worn muggle clothes, but nobody asked his opinion.
Lupin and Sirius were waiting downstairs with their mum, solemn and sad as they watched the Weasley kids troop in with their combed hair and heartbroken faces.
"You boys look so- so handsome," their mum sniffled, patting them all on their cheeks. "And girls-" she grabbed Ginny and Fleur's hands in her own, "you look beautiful."
"Love you mum," Ginny said thickly. "Is it time?"
"It is," Lupin said gently.
Fred's head hung low as they floo'd to the Burrow. His mums wail of devastation, brought his attention to the clock that still hung on the wall. Seven hands were pointing at 'home', Percy's said 'traveling', but the gold hand that was engraved with 'Arthur' was firmly pointing at 'lost'.
Sirius caught their mum when her knees buckled and her sobs broke through. "I know," he murmured softly to her. "I know."
"C'mon," Bill told the others. "Give mum some time. Let's go to the church."
Fred hardly noticed the cold that nipped at his skin as he followed the others to the St Catchpole Church. He ignored the crowds of well-wishers, keeping his head low and only nodding in response to what seemed like endless apologies.
'I'm sorry for your loss' wasn't going to bring back his dad.
He paid a little more attention when Albus Bloody Dumbledore gently squeezed his hand.
"I'm so sorry for your loss," he said with a quiet sincerity. "Arthur was a good man. A loving father, a kind soul."
"And now he's dead," Fred said flatly, glaring at Dumbledore with all the ferocity that he could muster. "Take your apologies and piss off."
He heard a surprised gasp from one of his siblings in the line of Weasley's, but he ignored it.
He knew who was responsible for his dads death, and it wasn't Harry.
Dumbledore didn't seem surprised by his words or tone, he simply nodded with a sense of calm that spiked Fred's rage and moved on to Percy, who must have joined them at some point.
Fred accepted condolences from relatives, classmates, coworkers of his dads, Order members, and members of Harry's alliance alongside his siblings. The faces, the words, fading in to an indistinguishable blur of noise and pitiful looks.
"Frederick."
Fred picked his head up once more when Snape's voice reached his ears, thankful that Harry stepped up beside him at the same time.
"Hullo sir," Fred said dully, squeezing Harry's small and calloused hand tightly. "Thanks for coming."
"I regret it's necessity," Snape said. He briefly laid his hand on Fred's shoulder. "Do not hesitate to reach out if there is anything I can do for you or your family."
Fred just nodded and watched as Snape was replaced by Theo and Hermione, the latter of whom surprised him with a tight hug.
"We all care about you," Hermione said softly. "You're being so incredibly strong."
Theo offered no condolences, no empty platitudes, just a gaze with steady eyes that reminded him that he too had lost his dad.
Bit different circumstances, if Fred's guess about Nott Senior's death was accurate, but still a shared experience nonetheless.
Harry stayed beside Fred as more of their friends came through the line. Luna, with a small and warm hug and large, teary eyes. Susan, with a brief hug and a whispered promise to help him when he was ready for revenge. Neville and his Gram, both offering apologies.
And on, and on, it went. Up until Lupin came up to the line of Weasley's and murmured that it was time.
Fred turned to Harry in a sudden panic. "I can't do it Harry." His eyes flicked to the coffin in the front of the room, the coffin that held his dads body. The coffin he was meant to stand in front of and help carry to its final resting place. "I can't do it. I can't. I can't—"
"Fred." Harry grabbed Fred's face with his free hand and put a slight pressure on his jaw, not hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough to break his panic. "You can," Harry whispered, his eyes unwavering as they stared deeply in to Fred's. "You're strong. This is going to fuckin suck, isn't it? But your brothers are gonna be right beside you, I'll be behind you. You can do this."
Fred matched Harry's breathing, slowly sucking air in before pushing it back out.
"I can do this," he repeated quietly.
Harry gave him a gentle push to follow behind his family to the row of chairs in the front of the church.
I can do this.
Fred slipped in to his seat between George and Charlie.
I can do this.
Fred's resolve wavered as the wizard overseeing the funeral got up and began speaking. The words were a buzz, indistinct as a whole, but small bits leaping out at him.
"Kind hearted."
"Family man."
"Proud father."
"Loving husband."
"No better wizard."
Fred thought that while they were all true portrayals of the person his dad is was, they somehow felt impersonal. If he closed his eyes, blocked out the cries of his family, he could be at anyone's funeral.
He could do it. Just pretend this nightmare was someone else's life, not his. He would have too if he didn't feel a gentle hand reach between the bars of his chair and lay on the middle of his back.
If Fred lived to be a thousand years old, he could never repay Harry for his silent and grounding presence during the funeral.
But even Harry couldn't keep his tears at bay when his family trooped up together in a single file line to say goodbye one last time to their dad.
Charlie, in front of Fred, cried openly without shame as he looked inside the coffin that sent shivers down Fred's spine.
I can do this.
"Together?" George whispered from behind him. Fred turned a grateful look to his brother and saw that his eyes were overflowing with the same tears that were obscuring Fred's vision.
"Together."
Fred and George walked up to the coffin, a single unit, and looked down at the man who gave them life and taught them how that life was meant to be lived.
Fred wiped his face on the stiff robe sleeves that suddenly felt suffocating so he could see his dad clearly one last time.
"It doesn't even look like him," George choked out. "Dad..."
Fred traced the smooth paleness of his dads face, attempting to memorize every freckle, consoling himself at the expression of peace, and wondering why it had to be him?
Why his dad?
Why now?
Why?
Later, Fred couldn't describe the rest of the service. He didn't remember carrying the coffin with George, Percy, Charlie, Bill, and Ron.
He didn't remember the graveside words of the minister. Blocked out the conjured flowers that were placed on top of the coffin. Didn't memorize the never ending hugs of the mourners.
He just thought about his dad.
Alone in the coffin.
Alone in the ground.
Ripped away from their family forever.
"I love you," Harry said softly after most of the mourners disapparated from the graveyard.
"Forever?" Fred asked him with a desperate tenor to his voice. "You won't leave me?"
He couldn't bear it. He couldn't, wouldn't, lose Harry along with his dad. He couldn't lose anyone, ever again. The pain of this one irreplaceable loss was enough to rip his heart in two.
"Forever," Harry said firmly. "You're stuck with me, aren't you?"
It felt like one minute Fred was staring down in the coffin, struggling to put the face of the corpse with his gentle and loving father, and the next he was back at Grimmauld Place. It was dark and he was staring in to a drink that Charlie passed him.
"Whiskey," Charlie grunted. "Good for funerals."
Fred relished the burn from the drink, let it chase away the cold numbness that had been plaguing him since the moment he arrived from Hogwarts.
"To Dad," Charlie said, having given the others all their own glasses. "To the greatest man I've ever known."
"To Dad," Bill, Fleur, Fred, and George echoed.
"Where's Ron?" Fred asked, finally noticing his missing siblings.
"Upstairs with Mum and Gin," George told him. "Weren't you listening when we got back?"
Fred shook his head. He hadn't even remembered coming back. Everything was a haze. Everything aside from the freckles across his dads nose, scattered beneath his wire framed glasses.
"Your muzzer needed to lay down, Ginny went wiz 'er," Fleur supplied with a soft look of understanding. "Ronald eez in 'is room."
"Thanks," Fred murmured. He downed the rest of the drink quickly and gave Charlie a pleading look.
"Alright then," Charlie chuckled joylessly and slid the bottle to Fred. "Don't tell Mum."
"She won't care," Bill scoffed. "I saw her smuggling a bottle of wine upstairs for her nap."
Fred listened to his brothers' forced conversation as he refilled his glass and threw it back just as quickly as the first.
He let their words become a static noise in his head, unwilling to be drawn in to their conversation, until Bill said Dumbledore's name.
"Fuck him," Fred spat angrily, fueled by his endless sorrow and the heating effects of the whiskey. "It's Dumbledore's fault dad's gone."
The others went silent. Fleur nodded shortly, the only other member of the Grey Alliance who understood what he did.
"How so?" Bill asked, lifting his pierced brow in a show of curiosity.
"Because he's a Merlin damned idiot," Fred told him. "I can't say more than that, but if Dumbledore didn't think he was all knowing and all seeing, and bothered to do a bit of bloody work, then dad would still be here."
"That's a serious allegation," Bill said.
"Eet eez not wizzout supportive facts," Fleur chimed in. "Zat man eez not ze great man your muzzer believes 'im to be."
Charlie tapped his chin thoughtfully as he looked between Fred and Fleur. "What do you guys know that we don't?"
George looked up quickly, eager to hear secrets that Fred couldn't share.
"I'd tell you if I could," he told them. "But I can't."
"Unless you join 'Arry," Fleur said softly, placing her hand on Bill's arm. "I 'ave told you zat 'e eez smarter zan zis Dumbly-door and Fred will concur."
"I'm joining," George said confidently. "I'm going over on Boxing Day and I'm joining Harry's alliance. I won't help Dumbledore, he'll be lucky if I don't kill him myself."
Fred was unbearably happy that his twin had accepted his story that it was Dumbledore who ultimately put their dad in a position he had no business being in. It might have been Timmy's snake that ended his life, but it was Dumbledore's lack of doing even the slightest bit of fact-checking that put him there. Fred wasn't able to share all the details with George, he'd sworn fealty to the gang just as all the other members had, but George had accepted what he did share immediately anyway.
Fred impulsively grabbed George's hand, a terrible and selfish thought popping in his head: he could survive losing his dad, no matter how much the sharp pain in his chest said otherwise, but he would never live through losing George.
Bill looked between Fleur, Fred, and George before slowly turning to Charlie and lifting a shoulder at him. "Reckon it's worth hearing him out?"
"Terrifying bloke like Harry? Better to hear him out than be against him," Charlie said bluntly.
Which is how the four Weasley's, and Fleur, found themselves in Spinners End on Boxing Day after having spent Christmas Day in a quiet misery with their family.
"Nobody's here," Charlie said nervously, peeking around Snape's posh sitting room. "Did they go back to Hogwarts?"
"No." Fred knew Harry planned on spending the holidays at Invisibility Way, but he wouldn't, and couldn't, floo there without Harry's permission. The house was warded to hell and back, with a secret keeper for its location. None of the others even knew of its existence.
"Mavis," he called out. "It's Fred."
Mavis popped into the sitting room and almost immediately tackled George in a tight hug.
"Mavis is hearing about Mister Fred's father," Mavis sobbed on Fred's very bewildered brother. "Mavis is being so sad for yous! Mavis is making mountains of banana pancakes to send with Master!"
"That's sweet Mavis," Fred said, "but I'm over here."
Mavis' head turned almost comically fast from George to Fred before he jumped backwards with haste. "Mavis is sorry," the house-elf said, finally taking notice of the extras standing around him. "What can Mavis be doing for Mister Fred?"
"Can you ask Harry if he can meet us here?" Fred asked. "Or ask if I can bring Fleur, George, Bill, and Charlie to wherever he is?"
Mavis nodded quickly, his ears flapping at the motion. "Mavis is being right back!"
"He's... different," Bill said as Mavis popped away once more.
"'Arry eez vairy fond of Mavis," Fleur said with a small smile. "Zey are fighting all ze time."
"What are they fighting about?" Charlie asked curiously, still looking around the sitting room with wide eyes.
"Everything," Fred said drily.
Before anyone else could ask any questions, Mavis popped back with a toothy smile.
"Master is wanting you to come to him," he said. "Master is making plans and can't leave so he is saying that if Mister Fred trusts his company, that they are welcome to join."
"Great, mind popping us over?" Fred asked kindly.
Mavis' ever growing smile was just as swift of an answer as was the way he immediately ushered them all together to hold hands, Fred and Bill each holding on to Mavis.
"Daaaaamn," Charlie whistled appreciatively at the giant manor that Mavis sloppily apparated them to. "Is this Snape's place?"
"This is Master Harry's secret house," Mavis said. "And if you are causing Master problems then Mavis will be making sure you never remember coming here," he wagged his finger threateningly before knocking curtly on the front door. "Mavis is giving Master a chance to turn any unwanted guests away," he explained at Fred's puzzled frown.
When Harry opened the door, dressed down in charcoal sweat pants and a long sleeved black top, he glanced hopefully at Fred and the others before deflating just a bit.
Fred was pretty sure Harry was hoping to see Ron, but since Fred hadn't shared more than five words with his younger brother since the funeral, he wasn't sure what was going through Ron's mind.
"Hey," Harry said, his hand subtly moving to his pockets. "What's going on?"
"We wanted to talk to you," George said. "We want in the alliance."
"What alliance?" Harry asked in a bored tone. "Don't remember saying there was an alliance here."
"Zey wish to join you," Fleur said. "Zey want to 'ear what you can offer zem."
Harry quirked a brow at George, Charlie, and Bill, but shrugged gracefully after a moment. "C'mon in," he held the grey door open wide. "The others are in the dining room. We're planning on how to kill that snake, Nagini."
"Terrific," Charlie said, offering Harry his hand. "Mind if we help you?"
Harry glanced down at Charlie's hand and quickly looked at Fred. Fred nodded and hoped that Harry could read his thoughts, his reassurance that through Dumbledore's negligent decisions, Harry had gained three more Weasley's on his side.
"'Kay." Harry grabbed Charlie's hand quickly before releasing it. "What d'you know about giant snakes?"
"I know we've got a big one to kill," Bill cut in with his own proffered hand. "Why don't we get to it?"
Fred followed Harry and half of his siblings to the dining room and was reassured both by the presence of Susan, Theo, Tonks, and Hermione and by the empty coffee pot by Harry's seat.
If Harry was drinking coffee and had gathered most of the others, then he meant business. Or, in this case, revenge. Which was all the same really when it came to Harry's plans.