Destiny

Chapter 59: The Deathly Hallows

Lillian's Perspective:

"No! It's not going to happen!" Fred shouted again.

I sighed and leaned back against my chair. He'd been going on for hours. Each conversation we'd been having as an organisation had somehow circled back to the same answer. I stopped trying to persuade him. Anna, who sat next to me, took my hand. She and I had been doing that for years. When we attended Hogwarts together we'd done so out of fear. Now it was just habit.

I looked at George.

He lifted an eyebrow. I nodded.

The other Order members sighed too.

"Fred," Arthur began, but was cut off.

"No, dad," he said. "No, I'm not changing my mind. She's not going."

I looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Fredrick Weasley, I will do whatever the hell I want."

I was losing my patience.

Fred was momentarily stunned, but he sat down, his eyes telling me this conversation wasn't over.

George let out a breath, something I took as a laugh.

Lupin moved the meeting swiftly onward, and we discussed how we'd move Harry to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding.

Fred didn't say anything for the rest of the meeting, and neither did I.

When the meeting concluded, as was predictable, Fred caught me alone.

"I am, and I have been, trying to protect you," he said evenly.

"I know how to take care of myself," I replied.

He shook his head. "If it happened once, it can happen again."

"And if it hasn't happened, it can always happen," I answered, and he knew exactly what I was implying. "We're all going to be in a dangerous position."

"But the Dark Lord specifically wants you. Why would we hand you over to him?" He asked, voice rising and face turning a light shade of red.

"You're not, Fred, for god's sake. He wants Harry on that night, not me. He doesn't care about me right now," I said. "You should know that."

"You are not going," he said, enunciating every word. His eyes were cold.

I glared back at him with just as much frost. "Go to your room and take a minute to yourself. I'm not having this conversation with you while you're angry."

"Don't tell me what to do," he said angrily, further proving my point that he was irrational when upset.

I shrugged and turned around, leaving, which only made him more infuriated.

"You're not my mother!" He called after me.

I laughed.

No, I wasn't.

Someday I'd be his wife. And that held more power.

I met George in the kitchen.

"You know, the four of us share a room, right?" He asked.

I nodded.

"And you're aware there's going to be tension between half of us, correct?"

I shrugged. "I'm not too worried about it. We'll be sleeping together by the end of the night anyway."

George laughed. "That's not awkward at all."