The Little Things

Elise was walking through the hallways. It was late, and she had been held up by Professor Binns, who was reveling in her knowledge. It was dinner, and everyone was gone by now, including her boyfriend George. Elise sighed when she thought of him. He was her boyfriend now.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her, approaching quickly. She saw the shadow on the ground, and the person was huge. She began to walk faster, and soon enough, she was running. She let out a cry as she was bashed against a wall. It was Charles Warrington, and two of his friends.

“Look, it’s the little veela girl.” He sneered. Elise whimpered. “You’re going to regret what you said on the first day, you know that, you little slut?” he said. She let out a cry as he chicken winged her. One of the other boys, a seventh year she recognized from her Transfiguration class, immobilized her.

She couldn’t scream, nor run. She shut her eyes as Charles ripped her blazer. His fingers tore through the thin cotton of her shirt. He began shredding her white undershirt, and glanced at her evilly. The other boys were holding her legs down. She wriggled a little bit, and one of the boys sat on her leg; it made a sickly cracking noise. She knew her leg was broken.

Charles slapped and punched her. The others cut into her legs. She wanted to scream and she opened her mouth in terror. Charles stuck his mouth on top of hers, and she shut her eyes. He leaned even more on her rib cage, and she felt like something was snapping inside of her.

So this is how she would take her leave of the world. She would be raped for sure. Killed, she didn’t know. She just knew that she was going to be left battered and broken on the floor, bleeding.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” a familiar voice hollered. She felt Charles get up, and she took in a shallow breath. She saw a flicker of red hair, and she hoped it was George. Opening her eyes, wider, she gasped. It wasn’t George, but Fred. How could she tell? It was instinct. His hair was parted differently, and he was taller than George. He’d had this birthmark on his hand that Elise could point out easily…and his wand was darker than George’s. Suddenly, her sight was fading, and so was her hearing. She blacked out as Fred and Charles approached each other.

*~*~*~*

George stunned and immobilized the seventh year and the other boy. He went face to face with Charles. “Little Weasleykins coming to save his girlfriend?” he cooed. Fred went red, but his face was still angry. “She’s not my girlfriend, you’re thinking of my brother, you prat!” he yelled. It was amazing that no one had heard this commotion yet.

“Oh come on, Weasley. Everyone sees the way you look at little miss Veela here. Even your own girlfriend notices. Except for George, he’s not exactly as bright as you. But you love her, don’t you, Weasel-be? You want to hold her, love her, kiss her.” He crooned.

Fred came closer. “You’re crossing the line, Warrington.” He said fiercely. Charles snickered. “You’ve always loved her, haven’t you? It’s just that Georgie makes a better boyfriend, isn’t it? George, always the kinder of the two, the quieter of the two. No, not Freddy, he’s outgoing, he’s sure to lose interest. He’s too loud, too insensitive. But that’s not true, is it Freddykins? You’re really the sensitive one. And it kills you every second you see your dear brother wrapped around the girl you love. Well you know what, Weasley? I just might finish the job. Crucio.”

Fred fell to the ground, withering in pain. But during this pain, he looked at Elise, who was on the floor, limp. Charles laughed. “You know, maybe when I’m done with you, I’ll finish what I started. I’ll tell you if she’s worth going to Azkaban for.” Fred felt his anger bursting. It was overpowering the pain, and he shaking hand reached for his wand. Charles was preoccupied, so Fred whipped out his wand. “Expelliarmus.” He said in his mind. He was good at nonverbal spells.

Charles looked shocked, and then laughed. “That all you got, Weasley?” Fred stared at him, and flicked his wand. With that, Charles fell to the ground as if he had been knocked on the head. Fred smiled, and then blacked out himself.

*~*~*~*

“She’s waking up!”

Elise lifted her heavy eye lids and saw a familiar face. It was George, who looked relieved. He kissed her forehead. “Thank God, you’re awake.” He sighed. She looked around and saw Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Fleur, Gabrielle, and Madame Maxime. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were standing nearby too.

“Where’s Fred?” she asked fearfully. George pointed to the bed next to hers. She saw a limp Fred with his mouth wide open. His cheek was slashed. “Oh my God!” she yelled. Suddenly, Fred rose. “Gotcha!” She gasped, and threw a pillow at him. As she took in a sharp breath, she grimaced.

“Patience, Miss Seymour.” Madam Pomfrey said. “Skelegrow can fix bones, but that’s not saying it won’t hurt.” Elise looked to George. “How long have I been out?” she asked. He gave her a sad look. “Three days. I’ve been excused from classes to sit here with you.” She gave him a tender look, and kissed him lightly. He was such a good boyfriend. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fred frown.

Dumbledore walked close. “Miss Seymour, I’ve taken the liberty of expelling Mr. Warrington and his two cohorts. Everyone believes that they were expelled for trying to steal school artifacts. On the other hand, the whole school believes that you and Mr. Weasley here fell off of the stairs when they were moving, and crashed on the floor below.” He said, amused.

Fred frowned deeper. “Is Warrington getting time in Azkaban? He used an unforgivable curse on me. Not to mention he tried to rape my brother’s girlfriend.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, Mr. Warrington has quite some time in Azkaban. His two friends, however, got off easier and are being detained by the ministry. They’ll have the trace on them for an extra five to ten years, and they are being sent to learn at Durmstrang as we speak.”

George brushed Elise’s hair. “I should’ve been there. I’m so sorry.” He said. She ran her fingers through his hair, and kissed his lips. “It’s alright. I’m okay.”

And yet again, Fred Weasley’s heart broke.

Maybe Warrington was right.