Wallflower

I must have passed out because I awoke in my bed, my uncle by my side. The mess was cleaned from the floor, and everything was in its right place. I pushed myself up with my left arm, and sat up. A small peek at my uncle was all it took to see the pity in his eyes, and sadness on his face. Shamefully I looked away from him and sighed. My right arm was tight to my chest, the sling holding it in place and the cast digging into my ribs just a bit.

“It’s alright to need help, Rosie.” He said, putting a hand on my shoulder for comfort. A moment later he left the room, neither of us were very wordy people, and silent strength and comfort was our best suit.

Scooting back on my bed I leaned against the headboard so I wasn’t straining my back. I was numb to emotion and feeling at this point, so when I tilted my head forward in defeat and a few strands of still red hair fell in front of my face it hardly phased me at all. For a while I just sat there. I didn’t fidget, I didn’t think, I just sat.

At some point Molly came in and sat a cup of broth and a sandwich on my bedside table, she offered a smile but I didn’t react. She left as quickly as she came, leaving the food behind for me to eat when I was hungry. After my last performance with food I was too disgusted with myself to bother trying again.

Hours more must have passed and my stomach gnawed at my will. I was hungry, but I refused the embarrassment of not being able to feed myself. The door cracked open and one of the twins poked his head in. He stood up straight and opened the door all the way to allow himself in. Awkwardly he shoved his hands into his pockets and sauntered over to my bed. I didn’t bother to look up at him, just stared straight ahead, straight faced as I had been all day. “What do you want, Fred?” I asked quietly.

He took a seat on my left side and grabbed my hand in his, rubbing it with his thumb. “How do you always know it’s me?” he asked quietly.

“It’s quite easy to tell,” I started, looking up at him with the smallest of smiles on my face, “you have different facial expressions. Some that are characteristically George, and others that are simply… Fred. You both have different personalities too, you’re more the instigator; George is more grounded.” I explained looking him in the eye.

“You know…” he said, raising a hand to my cheek, “Not even our mother can tell us apart that well.” He whispered.

“I suppose it’s a gift, something I picked up from observing all these years.” I muttered, a small blush on my face. This was the most contact I’d had with a boy in probably all my life, and it made me a touch nervous.

Fred blushed faintly before pulling his hands away from me. He cleared his throat as he grabbed his wand from his pocket and held it firmly. “Sorry, but talking to you with red hair just doesn’t feel right.” He muttered an incantation and I felt a small heat start at my scalp. It soon left, and traveled down the strands of hair turning them back to my natural deep maroon color as they went. He smiled brightly, “That’s better.”

“Thank you, I was growing to miss my hair. I’m very attached to the color, you see.” I said and trailed off.

“Why’s that?” he inquired.

“Because it’s one of the last things that I have of my father’s. Other than my hair I look nearly identical to my mother…”

“Well your mother must have been very beautiful then.” He complimented, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

A blush flooded my face turning my cheeks and the bridge of my nose pink. “She was, in pictures at least.” I paused. “She died giving birth to me.”

Fred stayed silent, and I decided that I could open up to him. “Up until Sirius escaped it was just me and my dad. I don’t remember my Grandmother very well, she passed too when I was young. The last time I saw my father was on the platform. He had dropped me off and by the time I was settled in a compartment and the train started rolling he was gone. I hadn’t even a chance to wave goodbye.” I said. Tears fell down my face, and I tried to wipe them away with my left hand but they just kept coming. “I haven’t heard from him since that day… and all I have left of him is the letters he wrote me, the kestrel he bought me, the color of his hair and a few pictures.”

Fred wrapped an arm around me securely, trying to comfort me. We just stayed like that for the longest time, until my silent tears stopped falling, and I had once again come to terms with my father’s disappearance. I was just about to wipe my eyes when a finger slipped under my chin and tilted my head up to look Fred in the eyes. He took his thumb and wiped away the tears awkwardly.

For a long moment we just stared at each other like that… his arms around me and my face so close to his. We were brought out of the moment by my stomach growling, reminding me of the broth and sandwich on my bedside table. Fred peaked around me and saw that the food was untouched. He frowned a bit and stood up walking around to the other side of my bed and grabbing it. “Why didn’t you eat?” He asked me.

My expression turned hard again and I looked away from his face. “Because as you saw at lunch, I can hardly feed myself as it is. It’s stupid that I can’t do something as simplistic as feeding myself, and it’s downright embarrassing.” I muttered through clenched teeth.

He sat down beside me again with the food in hand. He placed the plated sandwich on the bed and magicked the broth hot again. “Please try and eat some?” I said nothing, still refusing to look at him. “For me?” still nothing. He sighed, frustrated. “For your father then. You know he wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

I waited, his words sinking in. It would kill my father to see my in this state; so helpless. I took a shaky breath and grabbed the cup of broth from him raising it to my lips. I blew on the hot liquid and took a few small sips.

“Come on Red, you need to have more than that. If you’re arm’s going to get better you need the nutrients.” Fred pushed.

With great effort and encouragement I got down the broth, but I knew there was no way the sandwich was going down too. “I’ve finished my broth, can you settle on a small victory and forget about the sandwich?” I pleaded. He nodded, a small glint in his eyes. “And where did “Red” come from?”

“You don’t think I’m stupid do you? I know that your hair isn’t entirely the Black hair. It’s got some red in it. And besides, carmine is a shade of red.” He replied cheekily. I smiled up at him, happy for my first nickname from a friend. “It’s late though, I’ll take these downstairs, you get some rest.” He said grabbing the dishes and sandwich. He offered a smile before opening the door to leave.

Before he had left though I called to him, “Fred..” I said waiting for him to acknowledge my speaking.

“Yes?”

“Thank you… for being my first real friend.” I said to him. He blushed and nodded before continuing out the door and shutting it tight behind him.