Marooned - Fred Weasley

Prologue

It was a cold night in Godric's Hallow, that Halloween night. Streets had been buzzing around with children wearing all sorts of costumes, carrying little baskets made of wheat. It had settled down for a couple hours now.

On a quiet street, two lights were on, in two houses, only a few feet apart, harboring sweet moments of two parents, putting their child to sleep.

A loving mother was closing the door to their home. A little while back it was just a house, not anymore, and she was fine with that, more than fine, actually, as she walked up the stairs to find the love of her life, gesturing pridefully at a strangely assembled piece of furniture.

"It isn't that bad," said Lyana, looking at a wrongly assembled table "Although, I think that fourth leg should be under it, not on top, my love."

He walks over to her, puts his arms around her and sighs "There weren't any more holes to screw those in," he points at a little pile of screws.

Lyana gasps, "Daniel, there are at least five screws there. It's going to fall apart."

"I'm sorry, they don't teach you how to build tables in Defense Against the Dark Arts," he whines.

Lyana crouches down to grab them, "Better put these up so Sarah doesn't step on them."

He nods and smiles softly. Every now and then he takes a second and lets himself marvel at his wife, his life, although not as joyful on the outside, and with them being a living target for any Death Eater, it has snippets of moments of peace such as these and he savors them as much as he can.

"You might want to ask Lily how Muggles read those I-key books," he says, arms crossed, inspecting the odd looking table. She chuckles "It's Ikea, dear."

The smile lingers a little more before her face turns serious, angst and worry overcoming her again. She walks over to the window and lifts slightly the curtain to look at the house next-door. The light is on, she can see blurry shadows. She recognizes Lily and James then and breathes more easily.

"I can't believe Harry is one already," she whispers, without letting the shadows out of her sight "And our Sarah turns four in less than two months."

She turns to him and smirks "Are you still miffed about not being his godfather?"

He scoffs "Hey, James couldn't appoint three godfathers. Besides, you're his godmother, so in a way, I sort of am a demi-godfather," he starts beaming at her, proud of his pun.

"You're proud of that, aren't you?" she smiles at him, biting her lower lip, still wondering how with everything that is going on outside of these four walls, she still finds seconds to take in the green on his eyes, looking like a bright mountain hill, peaceful, parceled with tiny specks of golden, some flowers that make that grass wilder, flicker somehow with more life, mischievous, humorous, unique. She knows those fields by heart, she runs through them and belts out her favorite songs, and his name euphorically because she's his and he's hers. They make her feel at home, and she knows she could go anywhere as long as he's right beside her.

"You know, I'm so grateful she has your eyes," she murmurs, contemplating them still and he looks down, beaming, because sometimes he still gushes over the overwhelmingly loving look she has.

"I should thank you, you're the one to have birthed her," he says, laughing and it makes her giggle.

She looks back at the shadows from across the lawn, turning anxiously the ring on her finger, "Do you ever feel guilty, about stepping back? We're here, putting pieces of wood together, smiling, breathing, while Remus, Sirius and everybody else from the Order is out there still fighting until their last breath," she spoke so quietly, still worried the walls could hear, still terrified that someone will come and take it all away from them, from her.