PURIFY : Fred Weasley

34: Redeemed

Fred invites me round to his flat. I've never been inside, even though we've known each other for quite some time now. Whenever we hang out, it's been in public. However, with Moody having confirmed I have no chance of a restraint charm, at least, not with You-Know-Who milling about, Fred is getting antsier.

He won't admit it though.

I don't bother to bring it up with him, because I know what he will say. He'll tell me that he isn't afraid of my brother, he's afraid for me. I'll respond that he ought to be afraid of my brother because neither he nor I really know what my brother is capable of doing. After all, he could have killed me that night, and I don't imagine he didn't of his own volition.

I knock on Fred's front door. His place is above the joke shop, so I'm standing in the cold of a back alley. He opens the door, as if he was already there, standing on the other side, waiting for me.

"Travers," he says, "fancy seeing you here."

"Hello," I smile, I try to look around him into the flat. "Can I come in?"

He nods and I enter.

We walk up a set of rickety black metal stairs. They, thankfully, don't sway with each step, but they look like they ought to be doing it. Rather than swell on it, we end up walking upstairs. He reaches backwards for my hand, and I take it.

"Do they scare you?" he asks.

I shake my head. "Very little scares me. You ought to know that."

"Every day, it still feels like I'm finding out something new about you. For example, what's your favourite colour?" he asks.

I smile. "Green. Yours?"

"Red," he says, "What's your Patronus?"

"A raven," I answer as we pull up to the door.

He fiddles with the lock, before finally opening it. He's grinning widely. "Mine's a magpie. So's George."

When he finally opens the door, I get a look inside his flat. It is quite homey. There is a fireplace, with two chairs placed in front of it, and a couch. A bookshelf filled with knickknacks, and maybe five books on inventing charms, fireworks, and other simple things. Past the living room is the kitchen, which seems to shine. The place is a bit larger than where Robbie and I live, but I imagine so, since Fred and George are successful entrepreneurs.

I take my shoes off in the doorway and step across the shag carpet of the living room. It feels so soft. The place smells like Fred. The fireplace is going after all. It feels like the place I longed for in my sixth year. A place that could, in theory, be my home. At least, a place that feels like home.

"It's not much, but it's more than we have at the Burrow," he says.

"The Burrow?" I cock an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"It's where my Mum and Dad live," he answers. "Along with Ron and Ginny. My older brothers all moved out."

I don't think I've heard of many of his older brothers. Except for Percy Weasley. I see him at the Ministry sometimes, and he always looks like he's doing something important.

"So, what's the plan?" I ask.

He looks over me. He bites his lip, and then he shakes his head. "What was your boggart? All those years ago. It's been bothering me."