Green Eyed Monster | Draco Malfoy

90. Dead Air

Chapter 90 - Dead Air

"So I was right," Sirius told me, sounding quite pleased with himself. I unlatched my arm from his own, swaying slightly on the top step to Bill Weasley's cottage, only to have Sirius catch me. He looked me over once again, as if expecting to see me covered head-to-toe in blood that hadn't been there only a moment before. He frowned slightly. "It was a mistake to go through with it."

"I saw the memory," I argued quickly, shrugging his arm off again. I hated it when he gave me that look; it was that look that read that I was weak and he was worried. I could look after myself. I was of-age now; I was not a child as he seemed to expect me to be. "Now I just need to figure out what it means."

"But you didn't get the sword?" He asked, straightening himself up, though he looked ready to catch me if I were to faint - I would not be so typical. Still, I clenched my jaw against the grating truth of his words.

"No."

He exaggeratedly raised his brow. "And, to be clear, you were caught?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes."

"You're just lucky people didn't notice that it was you," Sirius told me in a stern tone, one that I was used to him using on me when I had insulted my brother, not when I had just escaped a castle full of armed and curse-happy Death Eaters. Still, with what little hope I had of dissuading him from continuing his taunts, I nodded. I took extra care just to make sure that my face was straight - as annoyed this talk made me, there was no reason for him to know that he was wrong...and more importantly there was no reason for him to know that I had been wrong.

Sirius took the moment to knock on the door to Shell Cottage and it only took a few seconds before Bill opened the door, wand drawn. He must have been waiting for us. "Identify yourselves."

"It's me, Bill," I told him, rolling my eyes and pushing past him so that I could sit in front of the fire. It was nice to feel it warm my cheeks and my cool fingers as I held them toward the flames. Though my fingers were cool, my palms remained anxious and warm, ready to heat and burn and hurt anyone who dared to startle me. "I've had a long, terrible day and all I give a shite about is hearing about your brother - how is he? Did George get him to the healer?"

Bill frowned, lowering his wand and giving me an annoyed look. "You know, I'm accepting this only because no one else knew that it was Fred who was injured."

"That's sweet," I drawled, removing my hands from in front of the fire so I could turn around and glare at him for my answers.

"I should also note that you identified yourself by your bad attitude."

"Wonderful, I'll continue being rude instead of telling pointless facts that anyone could look up about my looks, history, or lacking magical abilities," I told him bitingly. I shivered, though I knew it was not because of the cool September air - he wasn't telling me about Fred. That, in itself, may have been the answer that I was dreading. "I'm still waiting for news. How is he?"

"Mum's taking care of him at the Burrow," Bill informed me, pulling a chair from his table towards me and my place by the wood-burning fireplace. He let the chair screech along the floor and plopped down into it as if he were as exhausted as I felt. "He's still not conscious. She said she should be able to take care of him - George doesn't want to stay with him."

"Why not? George is always with Fred." I shook my head, my heart jumping up into my throat as I tried to comprehend what his words could mean. Were these people just fooling with me? Placating me until I was calm enough that they could tell me a horrible truth about what had happened to Fred? This all seemed too easy - he had been covered in blood, unconscious, he couldn't just be at the Burrow and healed by his mother, could he? He had been much worse-off by that, my heart would not have been pounding in my chest if it were just a flesh wound.