The Dane and the Magpie - (Fred Weasley Fanfiction)

The Dragon Man

This chapter might seem a little out of the blue but I started this book with no intention of it going anywhere, so when it actually did okay I was really taken aback and I've had to add elements to make it a cohesive story that isn't just day to day life at Hogwarts.

"Settle down, settle down - today's aims are to see something in the near future," Professor Trelawney extolled, her arms moving in an awkward dance as she spoke. "Don't expect anything impressive, it could be your next letter in the mail or a small sight of the Hogsmeade trip this weekend, my more impressive students may be able to identify the winner of the house cup." There was a wave of excited muttering from the students of Advanced Divination.

"I will give each table one incense pot to share between the two of you. Using page 395 for guidance, grasp hands with the person sitting across from you, and using the incantation considerabit deinceps, considerabit deinceps everyone, try it now." Larson yawned, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Considerabit deinceps." The class said unanimously, and Professor Trelawney smiled proudly.

"You may begin!"

Wren elbowed Larson in the gut, who scowled back at her tiredly. "So... where were you last night?" She raised her eyebrows teasingly.

"I was busy studying or something," Larson mumbled in reply, placing her forehead on the table, she hadn't looked this exhausted since the two of them stayed up all night navigating London the summer of fourth year. Wren bit back a smile.

"Working on your academics so diligently, Lar, I'm impressed. Whatever you were studying must have been very interesting since you don't look like you slept a wink." Larson rolled her eyes, but a subtle smirk stretched the corners of her mouth.

"It was interesting, alright."

"Here you go girls," Professor Trelawney placed a small brass bowl filled with a musty powder on the girls' desk. The smell gave off while burning resembled freshly cut grass. "I expect great things from both of you." Wren smiled, positioning the incense in the centre of the table, she poked Larson in the head, signalling for her to sit up.

"You go first." Wren urged, and Larson nodded tiredly. The two gripped hands across the table.

"Considerabit deinceps." Larson whispered, ringlets of her hair lifting into the air and her eyes illuminating the desk. As quickly as she had been put into a trance, she came out of it. Her face constricted with confusion. "You were shouting hexes... and the Triwizard cup was on there, on the grass. I think you're going to win the Triwizard championship? Wren's face lit up, and she immediately relit the incense and grabbed Larson's hands.

"My turn. Considerabit deinceps."

"WHERE ARE THEY?!" An eerily familiar voice barked - she was in the middle of Larson's bedroom, on the floor? "They can't have gone far, find them." Wren looked around as best as she could, but her movements were dazed. Larson was sat next to her, one hand covering her mouth, silencing her cries, the other placed on Wren's stomach.

"You have to go, you could still escape through the window - if you transform, they won't be able to catch you, I'm sure of it." Wren felt herself say, she sounded tired, older... most of all, afraid.

"No, why- there's no way I'm leaving you, are you stupid?" Larson whispered desperately. There was a bang at the door. Not the kind of noise where someone knocks too hard, the kind of noise where someone's trying to break in.

"IN HERE! ALO HAMORA!" Another bang. "Fuck sake- they've barricaded the door!" Wren's stomach dropped. That voice was the same one from the world quidditch tournament - he cast the morse mordre spell.

"Larson, please, please run, you don't understand-" She cried, but Larson shook her head violently and grabbed her wand.

"I'll do what I can Wren, I'm so, so sorry. I'll hold them off, maybe just long enough for the Order to find us-" There was a scraping noise, the sound of furniture being pushed along the floor. Larson stood up, her hand covered in blood. "You're going to be okay, Wren. I'll fix this, just stay awake. Wren? WREN?"

"Wren, what's wrong?" Wren's heart violently knocked against her ribcage. Her hands shook. Everything was dark. She pushed her face into her palms and tried to control her ragged breathing. "What did you see?" There was a sour taste on her tongue that burned. She was drowning in thirst and her mind in shambles. She tried to think of something good, anything good, her thoughts brushing past a familiar set of serene mountains, but nothing was helping.

"I have to leave." She said shakily. Wren stood up, nearly falling straight out of her chair, but Larson caught her. There was a rush of wind, and suddenly, the two were outside, it was darker than it should have been.

Wren hadn't meant to apparate, she was certain of that, and it seemed to be a miracle neither one was injured.

"Wren- where? What happened?" Larson said, her previous fatigue dissipating in a cloud of bewilderment. "We're going to get into so much trouble when we get back. Are you okay?"

Wren sat down and gripped the grass in desperation. What in God's name was she going to tell Larson? "I'm fine, Lar. I don't know what happened. I think something went wrong with the spell."

"Nevermind that... does apparition ever involve time travel? I don't recall the sun setting at two pm, not even in the UK's winters." Wren looked up at the sky. Sure enough, the sun was swimming behind the tall hills on the horizon... wait.

"Who's out there? This is protected land." A familiar voice called, Wren felt herself tearing up in relief. 

"Oh Merlin," Larson muttered fearfully.

"I hope you know what we do to poachers-" There was a pause and the man seemed to choke on his own breath. He'd be around twenty-one now, about as tall as Fred, but stockier, more muscle, one of his defining traits of course being a long burn scar that stretched from his shoulder down to his wrist.

"Charlie?" Wren said hopefully, she wiped a few stray tears from her cheek.

"What in God's name are you doing in Romania, Wren?"