PURIFY : Fred Weasley

45: Reborn

A few days go by and I don't hear from Fred.

Robbie is sullen and withdrawn. I feel like she's in mourning, but my recent revelations haven't made her anymore open. She watches out the window carefully. In the mornings, we walk to the Floo Network together. She's never been secretive about being a Muggle-born, and maybe that is to her detriment now.

The days become monotonous. We stop going on our window shopping trips, and Robbie gets rid of our Muggle games. It's like she's trying to destroy that part of her.

After three weeks, I can't take it any longer. I write Fred a letter.

Dearest Fred,

I hope this finds you well. I do not know if you wish to hear from me, but I cannot bear to leave us on these terms. I told you I would not leave again, and I meant it. I pray this is not you leaving me, but you are allowed to make that choice. No matter what, I respect it.

With love,

Larkin

I don't sign it with my last name. I've stopped telling it to people, because it brings me so much shame. Sometimes, people in the grocery store or the nearby café will recognize me and give me a knowing nod. Those same people look at Robbie with disgust.

The worst of the shame comes knowing that I hate a name that could give Robbie a better life.

I get a letter back a day later, at the end of September.

Larkin,

I just needed to cool off. We're good.

Fred

He doesn't sign it with love, and I'm worried about what is to come.

So, even though it is rude, I go to see him. The day before my birthday, when Robbie is at work, I arrive at the store and notice a large display in the window.

U-No-Poo.

Oh Merlin, what have these boys gotten themselves into now?

I walk inside, and a bell in the doorway chimes. It is early on a Saturday morning, so no one is out and about. The buzz of their store is beginning to quiet down, it seems, especially with Hogwarts back in session.

It is my second year at Hogwarts. A war is going on? I'm not sure if there is one, because it seems the wizarding world has succumbed to pure-blood supremacy overnight. That is, except for this sign in the window.

"You like it?" George asks from behind me.

I continue to stare at the display. They seem to be candies, which I assume cause constipation. "Isn't that a little dangerous? Asking for trouble?"

"We Weasleys only know how to ask for trouble," George laughs. When I turn to look at him, I watch as he leans down to whisper in my ear. "I don't blame you for going after Silas."

I stand on my tiptoes, and I'm about to whisper back when I notice his ear is gone. Instead, I speak at a normal volume. "Thank you."

He winces, pulling back. "Mate, I may not have an ear, but I've got a bloody eardrum."

"Sorry," I manage, wincing with him.

He brushes me off and smiles. "Nah, don't worry about it. Come along, Fred's upstairs."