These Hallowed Halls

Mother May I

For the first time she can remember since she took the mark, Audra gets a full night's sleep.

Normally, no matter how early she goes to bed or how late she tries to sleep in, she can't quite manage it. There are things to get done, worries that race laps around her mind, problems that she can't seem to stop trying to solve even in her sleep. It's a mindless sort of energy that keeps her tossing and turning, and even in the nights where she gets to sink down into a nightmare ridden sleep, Ginny is already there to wake her up in the morning.

(It had to be Ginny. Molly had tried, and Fred, on the mornings that he came over for breakfast, for the most part, Ginny was the only who could back away fast enough if Audra's fists came flying, and the only one other than Hermione who was fast enough at Shield spells to throw up a guard if Audra accidentally sends a stinging hex her way.)

(They tell each other they are only hexes. Silly, meaningless spells that might hurt for a moment but will leave without a trace, but Audra cannot forget one of the first mornings where Ginny came to shake her awake and they had not yet known this particular side affect of her nightmares, and Audra was out of bed in half an instant, sending them both tumbling to the floor, her wand at Ginny's neck. Audra couldn't remember any of it but the waking, but Ginny had said that her eyes were blank the entire time, like she was staring off at ghosts, but they both remembered the flash of green light that had ricocheted off the ceiling when Ginny finally got her hand between them to push Audra's wand away. They don't talk about it.)

Last night, though, she had fallen asleep. Maybe she was just that exhausted -or maybe, and the hope of it was too small and fleeting for her to really to believe it was true, maybe she was getting better- but Audra was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, and even if she had nightmares, she could not remember them. This morning, there was no aching limbs or tears drying on her cheeks, just light filtering in through the crack in the curtains. It was bright enough in the room that she knew she had really overslept, bright enough that she could keep track of the swirl of dust motes spiraling through the air, which was her first clue that something was wrong.

The Burrow is a lot of things, but it isn't quiet.

Someone should have woken her up by now.

"Molly?" She shoves herself up on one elbow and squints towards the still closed door. There's no response, just the soft clattering of dishes, and Audra lets herself have one more moment of being buried under the covers before she pads to the door, pulling one of Fred's old sweaters over her head as she goes.  "Molly, is everything alright?"

There is no breakfast on the table.  There is only the day's Daily Prophet, and Fred and George standing behind it.  Molly and Ginny are in the kitchen arguing in fierce whispers, but both of them fall quiet when they see that Audra had come into the room.

"Fred?"  She looks at Fred first, and he pulls his hand away from his mouth to answer her, but just shakes his head helplessly.  Audra can see the marks on the skin of his knuckles where he had bitten down on them, and that brings with if the first burst of fear, spreading sour across her tongue.   "What's wrong?" 

"Audra, love," Fred says, rounding the table, and Audra does not miss the way that George is trying to pull the paper out of her line of sight, trying to protect her from it, always trying to protect her.  "Maybe it's best if we sit down,"

She doesn't get the chance to hear the rest of what he was going to say.  Audra had enough of being protected, and was too caught up in the righteousness of her own thoughts to think that maybe they do just want the best for her, so she makes an awkward little stumble towards the table, laying her hand flat over the paper.