The Girl who Survived (Fred Weasley)

CH 98. An Arrangement

A/N: Hello my lovely Lovies!

A bit later than what I usually consider late, but here none the less.  A bit of a shorter chapter, but I wanted to split up the next few as things will more a bit more quickly now that we are nearing the end. 

That being said, Grab a drink, a snack, and lets dive in!

Love an Muggle Cell Phones,

Val

~Fred's POV~

I threaded up the stairs, another box in my hands in a haste to vacate the burrow as quickly as possible. Most of our belongings were at Aunt Muriel's but what we couldn't fit there we kept at the safe house, Shell Cottage. I preferred spending my time here, particularly for the fact that if I sat on the roof, I could catch the smallest glips of my former house. And each night so far, I sat on that roof, hoping to catch the tiny flicker of a light switching. Anything to let me know that maybe she'd returned.

When I reached the attic and placed the box down on top of another, I reached for the tiny muggle phone in my pocket, dialing the top number saved, only to hear the same message at the end once again. No answer. Up and down, box after box. From the attic to the shed and from the shed to the basement. They were trying to keep me busy. Because when I was busy, I was distracted. And if I was distracted, I'd be less likely to do what it was I really wanted to be doing.

I dropped the box at the entrance of the kitchen and took a seat at the table, dropping my head between my knees. I needed to do more than just move boxes and suitcases. Calling and listening to the same ringing. Something more than just being shacked up in the dusty old beach house. It was becoming maddening.

"That one goes to the second room dear, go on now," Mum said, cleaning the counter for what felt like the thousandth time so far. Across from me, dad ruffled his issue of the daily prophet, reading the rubbish the death eaters were publishing now that they'd taken over every aspect of the ministry.

"You think I don't know what you're doing," I asked, letting out a sigh as I brushed at the hair on the back of my neck. Behind me I heard sets of footsteps come to a sudden halt, most likely caught off guard at the idea of someone saying no to mum.

"Finish up now, it'll do you some good," She said in the voice she reserved for any of her children when one of us needed a bit more attention. "Come now, dear. Finish up, then you can help Ginny pack for school."

"No, I'm done!" I said, standing up too quickly as my chair went sliding behind me. The lingering effects of when Elodie's magic was left swirling around within me. I hadn;t meant to snap the way I did, but I didn't know what else I could do. I had no idea where my daughter was, what they were doing to my wife, that was, if she was even still alive. "You think I don't know what everyone is trying to do?" I said, looking up from my feet as I pressed my back into the wall.

"Freddie," George said, looking at me in a way that was enough for me to lose it. I couldn't even put into words how frustrated I was. All I could do was stare at me, staring at me.

"It's not like I've misplaced my pocket watch, or forgotten where I left a tool from the shed!" I said, feeling a pull from my center, urging me to leave. Urging me to leave and go out to search for her. "She's gone." But it was the way that my breaths began to feel as if they came in a shake that held me in place.

"I know," George said, reaching his arm out toward me before I pushed it away.

"She left," I said, feeling a heaving in my chest as I felt like there were too many people in the room. Staring at me as if I were some sort of sideline attraction.