✔️ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎 → ℎ. 𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦

08 | C H R I S T M A S

wash the sorrow from of my skin
and show me how to be whole again.

   "IT WON'T BE that bad, you'll see", George said, patting Ember's back. "They'll be all happy you're around. And I promise you that no one's mad with you."

   "Indeed", Fred added, reaching out a small bowl with floo powder for Ember to take. "Who can blame you for being hijacked and turned into a dark evil bitch?"

   "Neat, Frederik, thank you very much", Ember growled, before taking a deep breath and taking a hand full of the powder. "I — erm ... I'd rather not go first ..."

   "No problem, I'll do that", George exclaimed, clapping his hands. "If that means I get the first bite of Mum's peacan pie, I'll do anything!" Stepping into the fireplace, he loud and clearly spoke "The Burrow", before he was swollowed by a green sting flame, and Ember flinched back.

   "Still not your favourite way to travel, huh?", Fred snickered, placing the bowl back on a shelf near the chimney. "Your turn, what are you waiting for?"

   Ember's whole body tensed. To say she was not ready was a big understatement. Her hands started to tremble, some of the powder slipped through her fingers and landed on the wooden floor.

   No, she wasn't ready at all. Not ready to see Harry, not ready to see Ron, and Remus, and all the Weasleys. She wasn't ready for hugs and smiles. She wasn't ready for forgiveness.

   "Emmie, shh", she heard Fred quietly whisper next to her, his fingers easily opened her hand and the rest of the floo powder stained the ground. "Come here, it's alright." Pressed against Fred's chest, the tension in her shoulders eased, but still her body was shook by the trembling that spread from her hands to the whole rest. "Listen, there's nothing bad going to happen. George and I have already told them to behave. I even threatened them to jinx the meal with nosebleed nougat, if they'll dare to let this become awkward."

   "I'd rather stay here though ... You should go without me ..."

   "That's no option at all", Fred replied, smiling. "See, you can go voluntarily, or I'll apparate you. These are your options, choose wisely."

   "But —"

   "Emmie, I won't let you lock yourself up again, even though I know you absolutely love doing this. So, three ..."

   "But Fred —"

   "— two —"

   "Oh Merlin, c'mon, Fred —"

   "— one —"

   "Stop stop stop!", Ember yelped, wriggling herself out of his arms. "Don't! I'm taking floo powder, okay? Are you happy now?" With furrowed eyebrows, she grabbed a new fist full out if the bowl. "The death, Frederik! You'll be the death of me!"

   "But nevertheless, every night you end up with you butt against my —"

   "The Burrow!", Ember yelled, and as the heath shot up her neck and face, high emerald flames dragged her away from the mischievous grinning devil.

·

   Whatever the twins had done to make this less awkward, it didn't work. It was quite uncomfortable from the moment Ember stopped turning around herself and stepped out of the fireplace in the Weasleys' living room. Everyone greeted her way too enthusiastic, and all the evening acting overly polite. Fred and George tried their best to ease the mood, but what still remained were Harry's stolen glances, Ron's screaming silence, and her own inability to even look at Remus after their last meeting in Hogsmeade two months ago. She didn't even touch her presents. She had none for anyone here, so why would she deserve theirs? Trying to flee in the most subtle way possible, Ember excused herself for the bathroom, but when she left the living room, it was the backdoor she aimed for, rushing out into the night.

   The Burrow's backyard was covered in a thick layer of snow. The white ground reflected the pale light of a moon that wasn't far from being full. Cold air burned its way through the knitted jumper Mrs Weasley had given to her earlier that evening and a shiver shook her body.

   "You aren't about to run away, are you?"

   Flinching, Ember twirled around, staring into emerald green eyes hidden behind circular glasses.

   "No, of course not", Ember replied, quickly looking away. "Just needed some space. You can go back inside, don't worry, I'll follow you in a minute."

   "Oh, I can wait for you this minute and we can —"

   "Harry, I don't wanna talk." Eyes fixating the moon, Ember cut her brother off.

   "You don't need to", he replied after seconds of awkward silence. "I don't need to hear reasons right now. I'm just glad you're back. Kind of."

   "Kind of, yes ...", Ember mumbled more to herself than anyone else. "Look, I —" But her voice died as she spotted something in the distance: two persons were quickly coming closer, their dark silhouettes contrasting against the sugary white surroundings of the Burrow's winter wonderland. "Who's that?"

   "Don't know, but we better go in and tell someone, don't you think?", Harry whispered, his fingers closing around Ember's wrist, as he pulled her with him back into the house.

   The Weasleys and Remus had already moved from the living room to the kitchen as the Potter twins entered through the backdoor. The table was already arching under pans and plates.

   "Ah, good, there you are", Mrs Weasley said as she spotted Ember and Harry. "I was about to call you in, dinner's ready, take a seat and — by Merlin!" Her attention got distracted by something outside the kitchen window, and Ember knew Mrs Weasley had spotted the strangers in her backyard. "Arthur!", said Mrs Weasley, sounding breathless, her hand was pressed over her heart and she was staring out of the kitchen window. "Arthur — it's Percy!" 

   "What?" 

   Mr Weasley looked around. Everybody looked quickly at the window; Ginny stood up for a better look. There, sure enough, was Percy Weasley, striding across the snowy yard, his horn-rimmed glasses glinting in the moonlight. He was not, however, alone. 

   "Arthur, he's - he's with the Minister!"
 
   And sure enough, the man Ember had seen in the Daily Prophet every now and then during the last weeks, was following along in Percy's wake, limping slightly, his mane of graying hair and his black cloak flecked with snow.

   "Ember, you better —", Mr Weasley slowly started speaking, but Remus had already jumped out of his chair and pushed against Embers back, shoving her to the stairs. Not knowing what was going on, Ember obeyed his unspoken commands, reaching the first floor and slipping out of side the second the backdoor in the kitchen was pushed open.

—