Status: Left for Dead

Gred and Forge

Good Reputation

“We’re going to find out what git sent this!” Fred paced in front of the fire, his hands gripping the letter so tightly I thought it would rip in half.

After the letter had arrived I left Hogsmeade early. I felt unsafe; it was obvious the message was meant to be viewed as a threat and the possibility that the sender could be anywhere disturbed me. Fred went back to the castle with me, deciding that it would be better if I wasn’t alone. I didn’t disagree.

After dinner he took me to the 7th floor, to a room I believe he called The Room of Requirement. I’m not really sure what that means but it looks just how a small common room would; comfy chairs and couches, a warm hearth, and even a small bathroom in the back corner. Now, it was only a matter of time until George and Emily joined us, perhaps along with Rue too if they manage to find her.

Snuggled on the couch with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I warmed up from the cold day. “And how are we going to do that? There’s no name on it and none of us recognized the owl. I honestly don’t even know what it means.”

Fred stopped pacing and put the piece of parchment on the end table next to me, collapsing in the adjacent chair. “Well it obviously has something to do with your blood line; you possibly couldn’t have done anything.”

“My… my blood line?” The quietness of my own voice even shocked me and my breathing start to become constricted as thoughts flew around inside my head. What would he think of me after he found out?

“Yeah, you know, like pure blood, half blood, that sort of thing. What’s your blood line?” He looked at me curiously, hunched forward with his elbows resting upon his jean-clad knees.

My mouth started to become dry and I tried to swallow some saliva to revive it but it seemed that for once my mouth was bone-dry. “Well um… I am… uh…”

Fred’s eyebrows knitted together, “Do you not know?” I had always imagined this moment to be much harsher, as he would mock me for my very ignorance, but the softness in his voice came as a pleasant surprise.

Feeling embarrassed I simply looked at the worn couch cushion under me as I shook my head no. I know what he must be thinking of right now, ‘how can she not know?’, and I felt hot tears starting to form but blinking a few times I pushed them away.

That was one thing that drove me crazy, the fact that I have to cry at everything. Sometimes I’m not even that sad, like now, and tears just start to well up and I really don’t feel like I have to cry but there they go, getting ready to spill out of my eyes. It made me seem weak, fragile, and over emotional, all the things I strive to stray away from. I understand that crying is a healthy but sometimes it’s like ‘seriously, get a grip Emily!’ And right now was definitely not the time for crying.

I felt his warm hand rest upon mine and looked up as he asked, “How come?”

Taking a deep breath I closed my eyes, preparing myself to give away one of my biggest secrets while trying to shut out the threatening tears. “My… my parents died in a house fire when I was about one, the only reason why I’m still alive is because my Aunt Bea had me for the night; it was my parent’s anniversary the night they died.

“I was raised muggle born, since Bea wasn’t a witch, and when McGonagall came to our flat right after my eleventh birthday-“

“Wait,” Fred interrupted, “McGonagall came to explain it to you?”

“Yeah, isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?” I asked confused on why he sounded so astonished.

“Well yes but usually they send some bloke from the Ministry.”

“Really?” I asked, not sure if he was just trying to mess with me in order to lighten the mood or not.

Fred nodded in response then told me to carry on with my story.

“Anyway, McGonagall explained to us about the whole wizarding world and what not and Aunt Bea didn’t seem to be phased by any of it. I was completely gobsmacked of course, but she seemed like she had been expecting it. That’s why I’m not really sure; my parents could have easily been ordinary muggles or pure blooded wizards.”

He looked at me processing all that information. I stared back, waiting for him to say something, anything. Finally, with his eyebrows knitted together, he spoke, “Why don’t you just ask your Aunt about it, I’m sure she knows?”

A small, sad smile pressed itself on my lips, “You don’t think I’ve tried that already? Every time I try she somehow manages to change the subject.”

“Are you serious?” He asked me, “Why would she do that?”

I slowly shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. It was complicated, the whole ordeal, but it was just something I had to push to the back of my mind. Before we could carry on with our conversation the door creaked open catching our attention.

“We’re here!” Emily exclaimed, dragging George into the room after her, Rue and Vanessa following silently behind.

Fred stood up, throwing his hands in the air, “Finally!”

“Hey guys,” I watched as they all filed in, too lazy and comfortable to get up off the couch.

Rue rushed over and pulled me into a hug as soon as she could. “Oh my god Em, Acorns told me everything, I am so sorry.”

“Hey,” hugging her back I relaxed, “This is the best thing that’s happened to me. Now I might actually get some answers.”

She pulled back and smiled, nodding her head, “Yeah, I guess it is.”

After she took a seat next to me on the couch George, who had settled himself on a nearby chair, clapped his hands together. “Alright, now what exactly are we here to discuss?”

“Well,” Fred looked at me, “Do you want to explain?”

I nodded in agreement, “Sure, why not.”

As he settled back into his previous chair I started in on a brief description on the letter and my parents, filling in the blanks for them. I went through the house fire and all the way up to how my Aunt Bea doesn’t tell me a thing. Of course both Emily and Rue knew this already, but George didn’t, and it wouldn’t hurt to review what we already know.

“Okay, so now what?” Emily asked, pulling out a small bag of acorns out of the pocket on the front of her bright pink jumper. The room fell quiet and we all looked at each other, waiting for someone to come up with an idea.

“Well, what if we started by looking up more information about your parents?” George offered.
“This obviously has something to do with your blood line.”

We all agreed then Rue added, “That would be a good start. We can check the school’s old records to see if they attended here or not.”

Suddenly everyone’s eyes landed on me, waiting for confirmation. It may be such a little task but this could make a huge difference to me. Finding out more about my parents on my own was something I should have done years ago, so why didn’t I? Perhaps it’s because of Aunt Bea’s reaction that made me shy away from the topic for so long. Well starting today that wasn’t going to happen any longer, I am going to demand answers and I am most definitely going to get them.

“Sounds like a great idea; I can search the library tomorrow.” A smile found its way upon my lips and I couldn’t help feeling giddy. What if I found something important?

For about an hour more we threw around some more ideas between the six of us. A few of the reoccurring ones were ‘What if it was meant for someone else?’ and ‘What if a dangerous enemy sent it?” Before anyone had come up with a good explanation, curfew was fast approaching and it was time to head back to our common rooms before we faced the wrath of Filch. George and Emily were amongst the first to leave, then Vanessa along with Rue. It was just me and Fred left alone once more.

He stood up and stretched, the hem of his blue t-shirt lifting up and exposing some of his pale skin. After a brief yawn he looked at me, “Well love, ready to get back to the Ravenclaw Tower?”

Groaning I threw my head back and pulled the blanket around me tighter, “I’m so comfortable though.”

“Well either we can go now or end up risking our good reputations by getting a detention with Filch. Your choice.”

Smirking I shook my head, “Since when do you have a good reputation?”

A lopsided grin appeared on his face and he crouched down in front of me, “Sounds like somebody just wants to stay here.”

“Why can’t I? Tomorrow’s Sunday any way, besides both Rue and Vanessa know where I am.”

Fred sighed, obviously giving up, “If you’re going to stay here you’re not staying alone, alright?”

“Of course not!” A large smile appeared on my face as Fred got up and plopped down on the couch, right next to my feet. Moving to sit next to him I snuggled against his side, my voice just above a whisper, “Thank you for offering to stay with me though.”

His arm wrapped around my shoulders and held me securely into place, “I didn’t really see any other volunteers so I thought I’d just offer. You know, just so you didn’t get disappointed that no one wanted to stay with you.”

Instead of answering back I stared into the slowly dying fire, where weak flames were now licking well burnt logs. Fred didn’t push the conversation any farther and my mind started to drift off. The first thing I thought of was my parents. Though Bea didn’t really tell me anything about them she did show me pictures of what they looked like. Bea was going to give them a scrapbook she had put together as an anniversary gift, but my parents died before she could give it to them so instead she kept it in their memory. According to my aunt, it was their three year anniversary they were celebrating, so she had a substantial amount of pictures saved up from my parents wedding to when I was a newborn in Hospital.

I remember when I was a little girl, before I really knew about magic and Hogwarts and Harry Potter, there were nights when I would take the scrapbook from the sitting room back to my bed. Hiding under the blankets with a torch in my hands, I flipped through the pages over and over again, my young imagination going into hyper-drive. I used to try and imagine what my mother’s voice sounded like, it was never raspy like Aunt Bea’s but always like some sort of queen’s voice, soft but strong.

Sophia, my mum, was beautiful. She had the type of hair that would be perfectly tousled without any effort at all. It was long and chestnut brown, contrasting nicely with her heart shaped pale face. For some reason I always got this strange feeling she smelt like lilacs, I’m not really sure why I ever thought that but I guess it’s just what seemed logical to a six year old girl.

Oh, and her eyes. They had to be the greenest things I’ve ever seen. They looked like a well-watered garden, a lush green that only spring time can bring. They were nicely shaped too, like large almonds, with thick, dark lashes, and smoothly arched eyebrows.

Then there was my father, Lucian. His eyes were entirely different than my mother’s. To say that they were blue would be an understatement. His eyes were in rings, the most intense iciest pale blue on the outside, then, surrounding the iris like a blanket was dark navy. The rest of his face seemed to compliment them, his sandy hair and gentle eyebrows, light stubble on his jaw line, a permanent smile upon his face.

When I was really young I never noticed but when I got older, about nine years old, I started to see that my father had faint scars upon his face and neck. In all the pictures he was in he never wore short sleeves, ever. I remember seeing a couple photographs of them at the beach and my father was wearing a long sleeved white t-shirt. Whenever I asked Aunt Bea about it she just said that it was because my dad was shy about his body. Of course I believed her at the time; I believed everything she told me about my parents. Then I really started to think about it and the more I did the more it didn’t make any sense. Despite all my asking and questions she would never give me a straight answer.

I also used to look at the pictures of me as a baby, right before they died. Those were always at the end of the scrapbook since Bea put it together chronologically. Then, after I looked at every single picture, analyzed every little part of them, I would close the book and put it back where I found it. Every time I would fall asleep and dream of what it would be like if they really were still alive.

“Ella, what’s wrong? What are you thinking about?”

Slowly I looked up at Fred; I had been so lost in thought that I forgot he was even there with me. “Oh nothing, I was just thinking about this little scrapbook of my parents I used to look at.”

A sad frown appeared on his face and he removed his arm from around me. The fire was almost gone, just the embers were left, glowing peacefully in unison.

“I don’t like seeing you like this, it worries me. What can I do to make you happy?” He had placed his hand upon my cheek, and slight pleading expression in his brown eyes. I shrugged in response, not really knowing if there was anything to make this sudden grief disappear. “You know what? I think we should cuddle, I hear that’s what girls like to do when their sad. I bet that would me you feel better.”

“Cuddling?” I asked him, an eyebrow arched him in disbelief. Out of all things he comes up with cuddling? “That’s your solution?”

“Well yeah.” He leaned back against the armrest behind him and pulled me into his arms, my back against his torso. Then Fred proceeded to rest his arms on my stomach, gently kissing me on the cheek, burying his face into my neck. “Cuddling, just like this.”

Spreading out the blanket so it was over both our legs, I leaned back farther into him, getting comfortable once more. “You know what really makes me happy? Chocolate ice cream.”

I heard him chuckle and he removed his face from my neck, “I will keep that in mind.”

My eyes found their way back to the fireplace, the ashes just barely glowing. My mind was wondering off, thinking about everything but yet nothing at the same time. Stifling one last yawn I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
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Sorry this took so long to update! I was going to post this chapter earlier today but my wifi started to go all crazy on me! I'm pretty sure this is one of my longest chapters though so I hope that makes up for it, plus there's a lot of information regarding Ella in it so I hope you liked it all!

Don't forget to check out the tumblr: gredandforgestory.tumblr.com! I'm really thinking about adding a bunch of little short stories and drabble's about Fred and Ella's little friendship period.

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