Into Forever

The sweet smell of bacon and eggs drifted up from the kitchen and wreathed itself around me as I reluctantly peeled open my eyes. The plane had gotten in late last night, and of course Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley had kept me up even later, badgering me about my vacation.

As I sat up and stretched, I let out a sigh; I’d missed so much in the month that I’d been gone. Today was July 31st, and tomorrow, Bill and Fleur would be getting married. Though I was thankful I’d gotten to skip the worst of Mrs. Weasley’s anxiety and fussing over the wedding, though I’d been upset when I had been forced to leave without helping evacuate Harry.

The second I told Fred I was pregnant, everything had changed. Honestly, I’d been afraid that Fred would want to back out and leave me; who would want to be tied down with a pregnant girlfriend? To my surprise (and relief), Fred had nearly fainted from happiness; he wasn’t worried about having a baby so soon, he was thrilled he was going to be a father. And though that was great, I still had to get the courage to tell our parents.

I’d invited my mom and brothers over to the Weasley’s (Lakey still isn’t done talking about the flying car), and after a fun get together dinner, Fred and I had taken everyone out into the garden (away from the sharp utensils in the kitchen) and we’d spilled the news.

”I’m pregnant,” I said, my voice shaking. Hermione, Ginny, and Fleur let out excited squeals, rushing forward to hug me. George clapped Fred on the back, saying “Well done, mate!”, and Harry, Ron, and Bill all cheered.

Lakey and Carson were shocked, but wasted no time in engulfing me in their own hugs; it was my mom, Mr. Weasley, and Mrs. Weasley I was worried about. They still hadn’t said anything, and the minutes were ticking on.

Finally, Mr. Weasley shooed everyone else inside, locking the doors.

“You’re sure you’re pregnant?” he’d asked, crossing his arms. I just managed to nod.

“And you’re sure this is what you want?”

Once again, I nodded. So did Fred.

“Well, then, I’m happy for the both of you.”

Mine and Fred’s thanks were drowned out by Mrs. Weasley’s horrified screech of,

“ARTHUR! Have you gone mental?! Your son is going to be a father!”

“Well, yes, it’s a bit early, but if it’s what they want-“

“Nonsense! They’re foolish teenagers! They don’t know what they want!”

Instantly, my mom jumped to my defense.

“Well, Molly, Kelsey has a good head on her, and if she thinks she’s ready to be a mother-“

“She doesn’t know anything! She’s a child, for Merlin’s sake!”

And with that, Mrs. Weasley had disappeared into the house without another word; she hadn’t talked to me since. I’d tried to make amends, but let’s be serious here: Mrs. Weasley is a bit frightening when she’s infuriated. Mr. Weasley was actually very supportive, and my mom was surprisingly thrilled. She thought Fred was amazing, and she knew I was ready for a baby.

Our Bahamas vacation was nothing less than awesome; swimming all day, and exploring the island by night for an entire month had left me relaxed and rejuvenated. I’d wanted to help Harry’s escape from his aunt and uncle’s house, but Fred had all but forced me onto the plane, saying I couldn’t risk the baby. Every time I mentioned staying behind to help with the escape, he’d ignored me and literally carried me into the cab to go to the airport.

But I was home now, and the smell of food was driving me wild. I felt a little nauseas, but I hoped it would pass; if I wasn’t downstairs soon, the food would be gone. As I stood and studied myself in the floor-length mirror in Ginny’s room, I ran my hand down my stomach.

I’d gotten pregnant about half-way through May, the night Gryffindor won it’s last Quidditch match of the season. I was ten weeks pregnant; though I had only the slightest bump, I still knew it was there, and it made me happier than I could have ever imagined. Smiling to myself, I changed into a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a form fitting tank top, and then headed down for breakfast.

The second I entered the kitchen, I was engulfed in an air-tight hug. Hugging back, I felt a pair of lips press to my forehead, and a voice say softly,

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

Pulling away, I beamed up at Fred and said,

“And good morning to you. Did you leave me any bacon?”

“You’re the only one I’d ever save bacon for.”

I laughed as Fred knelt down and kissed my stomach.

“Morning, baby,” he cooed, making me blush. There was a collective ‘awe’ from Ginny, Hermione, Fleur, and George, while Harry, Ron, and Bill all shared a humored glance.

“Who would’ve thought Fred would be the first of us to settle down?” Bill wondered out loud, smirking at Fred. Pulling out a chair for me, Fred said,

“It helps when you’ve knocked up your girlfriend,” Ron chimed, earning himself a smack over the head from me.

“That would do it, alright,” George agreed, reaching for a piece of bacon off the plate Fred had made for me. Slapping his hand away, I began to munch on my breakfast, feeling like I hadn’t eaten in weeks. As I began to argue with George about the best way to catch a gnome, I heard the back door open, and looked up to see Mrs. Weasley and several other red-headed Weasley’s entering the house. The guests were starting to arrive, and already the house was growing crowded.

Catching Mrs. Weasley’s eye, I smiled up at her, but only received a hardened glare. With a sigh, my eyes fell back onto my plate.

“My bacon’s gone!” I gasped, immediately snapping my gaze up to George, who was just about to stuff a slice into his mouth.

“Get him!” Fred screeched, diving over the table and knocking George out of his seat; the bacon landed neatly on his plate and I snatched it back, devouring it before George could get it back. As Fred and George rolled around on the ground, I heard the footsteps of Mrs. Weasley a moment before she appeared around the corner. She froze in her steps, glowering down at her sons wrestling beneath the table.

“Frederick Weasley! Get off your brother this instant!” As Fred scrambled off, Mrs. Weasley, still red in the face, turned to George and yelled,

“If you don’t keep to yourself and quit causing trouble, I’ll feed you to the garden gnomes!”

“Technically, the gnomes are vegetarian-“

“George, I swear-“ Mrs. Weasley began.

“Mum! Aunt Muriel’s here!” Ginny announced just in time, saving George from Mrs. Weasley’s wrath. With a frustrated huff of breath, Mrs. Weasley spun around and stalked off to let the newest guest in.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry disappeared off to Ron’s room; Harry paused at the bottom of the stairs and said,

“Kelsey, we need to talk with you too.”

Grabbing my toast and the last of my bacon, I gave Fred (whom was setting up a rematch with George in the backyard) a kiss on the cheek and followed Harry up the stairs. Ron and Hermione were crosslegged on the floor, waiting for us.

“What’s up?” I asked, plopping down beside Hermione and scooting to make room for Harry.

“I have everything packed,” Hermione began, pulling a small, beaded bag onto her lap. “Well, just the essentials anyway.”

Harry, Ron, and I all stared at the bag, glancing a confused glance at one another.

“It’s an invisible extension charm,” she explained, opening the bag and letting me take a peek in.

“Wow,” I chuckled, finding my own little section of clothes, shoes, and everything else I could possibly need.

“Now you’re sure you still want to go with us?” Harry asked me, his eyes clouding with seriousness.

“Of course,” I told him fiercely.

“Even though you’re pregnant?”

“Look,” I said, glancing at my three best friends. “Even nine months pregnant I’m still gonna want to kick some Death-Eater ass. I can defend myself, and I’ll be a help to you three on the journey.”

“But what if we’re still traveling when you’re ready to have the baby?”

“I’ll get myself to a hospital,” I assured them. “I can handle myself.”

Letting out a resigned sigh, Harry nodded. “There’s no point in trying to stop you, I suppose.”

“Not if you don’t want to waste time,” I agreed. Ron just chuckled.

“Just as bad as Harry,” he sighed, smiling at me. I grinned back.

“Okay, well I have everything we need in this bag,” Hermione assured us once again. “We might need to leave without any notice, and if that happens then we’ll get with each other and apparate together.”

As our meeting came to a close, we stood and I stretched, glancing around. I was still a bit tired, and a nap was sounding pretty darn good. Just as I was heading towards Ginny’s room to catch some shut-eye, I heard a rather loud knock on the front door. Exchanging a glance with my friends, we headed downstairs to see who would be knocking. All the relatives were being let in by Mrs. Weasley; this had to be someone outside of the family.

“Good day, Mr. Potter,” Rufus Scrimgeour said briskly, brushing past us and into the front room.

“Er, hello Minister,” Harry said, exchanging a baffled look with the rest of us. “What can I do for you?”

“I was actually hoping I could have a word with you.”

“Just me, sir?”

“No, actually, all of you, but I’d like to talk to you all separately-“

"We're not going anywhere. You can speak to us together, or not at all."

“Very well then, together. I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore’s will.” When the four of us gave him a wide-mouthed stare, he continued. “A surprise, apparently! You were not aware then that Dumbledore had left you anything?"

“No, actually,” Hermione began, her brow furrowed and arms crossed over her chest. “Isn’t the will supposed to be read after the willbearer’s death?”

“In most cases, yes,” Scrimgeour admitted awkwardly.

“It’s been a month since Dumbledore died,” I said accusingly. “Why are we just finding out about this?”

“Under the Decree for Justifiable Confiscation,” Scrimgeour said vehemently, “the Ministry was allowed to confiscate the will and the items included to make sure they were safe to be passed along-“

"They wanted to examine whatever he's left us. You had no right to do that!” Hermione exclaimed angrily. “The law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts, and the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?"

“It was simply a precautionary measure, Miss Granger!” Scrimgeour snapped. “The items are with me now, and if you’d follow me, I will happily distribute them!”

Letting out a huff of frustration, Hermione marched forward into the living room and dropped down on the couch; I sat next to her, with Harry on my other side and Ron on Hermione’s other side.

The Minister pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment, cleared his throat, and began to read.

“To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.” The Minister dug into a leather bag resting next to him and carefully withdrew a small, golden ball. As the Minister handed the snitch over, he had a look of excited curiosity; Hermione noticed as well.

“He’s waiting to see if the snitch reacts to Harry’s touch,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at Scrimgeour, who blushed a fierce red at her accusation. “He wants to see if Dumbledore had tried to sneak something to Harry inside.”

But at Harry’s touch, the snitch remained just as still as before; Scrimgeour’s face visibly fell. Casting a glare at Hermione, the Minister continued reading the will.

“To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive '… Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?”

Hermione held the book tenderly in her hand, running her fingers over the cover, a tear dropping from her eye. Dumbledore knew her well.

“He- he knew I liked books,” she whispered, a small smile coming onto her face.

“But why that particular book? Did you ever discuss codes or any means of passing secret messages with Dumbledore?"

“Of course not!” Hermione snapped, resting the book on her lap. “That’s ridiculous!”

Looking flustered by Hermione’s sharp tone, the Minister cleared his throat and set back to reading.

“To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it '… That is a valuable object. It may even be unique. Certainly it is of Dumbledore's own design. Why would he have left you an item so rare? Dumbledore must have taught thousands of students, yet the only ones he remembered in his will are you four. Why is that? To what use did he think you would put to the Deluminator, Mr. Weasley?”

Ron blinked, looking just as surprised as Scrimgeour sounded.

“I dunno, to put out lights, I s’pose,” Ron said with a shrug, tucking the Deluminator into his pocket. Scrimgeour glowered at Ron before he continued.

“To Kelsey Lynette Werner, I leave my favorite, in hope that it will keep her warm when she needs it.”

“A blanket?” I asked in surprise as the Minister handed the folded blanket over to me. Harry ran his hand over the material.

“A soft blanket,” he corrected. The dark blue blanket was dotted with stars and planets, with a big, golden sun in the middle. I held it close to my chest, closing my eyes and silently thanking Dumbledore. To my surprise, the blanket was almost startlingly warm. Blinking in shock, I held the blanket away from me to study it.

“It’s a charmed blanket, one of Dumbledore’s creations,” Scrimgeour explained. “It always stays warm, no matter the temperature around it.”

“Awesome,” I said, grinning at the blanket.

“Why would Dumbledore leave you such a blanket? Did he know of a place you’d need it?”

“Oh yes, sir,” I said, forcing my face to become serious and giving him an intent nod. “He knew I absolutely love traveling down to Antarctica and going for hikes in the nude.”

Scrimgeour’s face blushed a brilliant red as he cleared his throat and muttered something incoherent. Ron and Harry had to struggle to keep from laughing.

“Is that all?” Hermione asked tartly, crossing her arms.

“Well actually, there’s one more thing,” Scrimgeour began.

“Well lets have it, then,” Ron insisted, frowning at the Minister.

“Well, Dumbledore left Harry the sword of Gryffindor, but-“

“The sword? Really?” Harry gasped in astonishment.

“Where is it?” Hermione demanded, looking irate.

“The Ministry is not going to pass on the sword to Mr. Potter,” the Minister said firmly.

“Dumbledore left it to me! It’s mine, isn’t it!” Harry exclaimed in disbelief.

"According to reliable historical sources, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor. That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr. Potter, whatever Dumbledore may have decided. Why do you think--?"

"Why do I think Dumbledore wanted to give me the sword? Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall."

I barely stifled a snort.

“If that’s all…” Harry hinted, a note of annoyance in his voice.

“Yes, yes,” Scrimgeour said, getting to his feet and giving the four of us a curt nod. “I’ll be going now. Do pass on my best wishes to the bride and groom.”

With that, the Minister disappeared out the door without another word, leaving the three of us in silence to stare at our possessions. For a moment, no one said anything; we were all too busy staring down at our objects. The second Harry shut the front door, we burst out talking.

“Maybe Dumbledore left a secret code in one of the stories!” Hermione exclaimed, immediately beginning to flip through the book in search of a secret.

“What good is a snitch going to be?” Harry fretted, turning the small, golden ball over and over in his hand, frowning at it.

“I’ll never have to get up to put out the lights again!” Ron exclaimed, flicking the Deluminator open and shut, watching the light disappear and reappear.

“What good is a self heating blanket?” I wondered, unfolding the blanket and wrapping myself up in it. Immediately, I felt warm and cozy; I had to fight the urge to curl up and go to sleep. “Okay, never mind, I figured it out,” I sighed, snuggling down into the couch.

“Dumbledore knew I’d continue to look for the horcrux’s,” Harry said, his brow furrowed with thought. “And he knew you three would come with me. So he probably left us these things for a reason. We just need to figure out what.”

“Well, let’s figure it out later,” Ron decided, returning the lights back to the room and tucking the Deluminator back into his pocket. “The wedding is tomorrow, and if we don’t start helping out, mum will kill us all.”

Mumbling agreement, the four of us stood up and hurried upstairs, putting our things away. The rest of the day was spent preparing food, going over the ceremony, and helping Fleur prepare her hair for tomorrow. By the end of the day, we were all exhausted, and laying down in bed had never felt so good before.

As I lay in bed, curled up in my warm blanket, my mind began to wander over everything that had happened. It was beginning to dawn on me that I would never return to Hogwarts; in just a few months, I’d have to leave Fred, George, and all my other friends behind for a journey I may never return from.
I’d decided not to tell Fred that I was leaving; if I had told him, he’d just insist on coming, and the four of us would be a crowd already. Besides, how could I ask him to leave his brother, his family, his everything to come along with me? I knew without a doubt he’d be right there with me, and I didn’t want to take him away from his life.

With a sigh, I rolled onto my back and began to run my hands over my stomach. Would I really be able to leave Fred? Would I really be able to raise my child out on the run, have him grow up in danger while I was off hunting for horcrux’s?

Sleep began to overtake me; the last thing I thought of that night was if I’d really be able to leave my new life behind for the violent, uncertain future that was stretching out in front of me.