37) The opening

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Eleanor couldn't see

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Eleanor couldn't see. Tears making her view hazy and all she could hear were her shaky breaths, occasionally a tear slipped into her mouth but she didn't care — couldn't possibly take notice of it, as the most gruesome thing ever had happened.

Her boys, her beautiful lovely boys, laid on the floor next to her feet. Their eyes staring at the sky without seeing. Once so full of life, now there was nothing left.

Blood trickled out of Fred's mouth and George's arm was bend in a way that wasn't possible. Both their clothes torn and their mouths in a silent scream.

The girl fell down to her knees, clutching their hands — already cold and hard.

"No.. No.. Come back.. Come back!" Eleanor cried.

Her fingertips graced over George's skin, stroking his ginger locks. "Georgie, please.."

She thumbed away the blood from Fred's face, wiping his hair away from his eyes. "Freddie.."

Eleanor looked up when she heard footsteps and she, again, took hold of her soulmates hands.

"What have you done?!" She screamed at the man in front of her, she tried to come off intimidating but her tears worked against her. It came out as a stuttering, sobbing mess.

"One day you will be thanking me, my dear Eleanor. This is truly for the best."

She woke up from the horrible dream with a sudden breath intake and she swiftly looked around her, a happy sob escaping her mouth when she found Fred and George next to her on the big bed. It was strange of her to do — but what did you expect after she had that nightmare, her fingers made way to Fred's neck and she sighed when she could feel his heartbeat. She repeated the process with George and her body relaxed when he also had one.

"What are you doing, love?" George mumbled, his eyes half open and sleepy.

"Nothing.. Ehm, bad dream," Eleanor answered and she crawled closer to him. Her head on his chest and melting into his touch when his hands found it's way through her long blonde hair.

The older twin next to them was still soundly sleeping, his soft snores the only thing heard in the room.

"Do you want to talk about it?" George whispered and Eleanor shook her head no. How could she possible explain the dream she had?

It was now a week after her evening at Malfoy Manor but her father's words kept repeating in her mind. Her sleep plagued with nightmares.. She couldn't tell the boys, she didn't want to. They would be in danger if she would.

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