Twisted (Charlie Weasley)

Chapter Fifty-Two

The moment Voldemort, the man my parents doted on, called back his army, the people of our side began to scramble to find all of those who had been injured... or killed. Immediately my brain began to work on overdrive as I did a mental list of all the faces I would be looking for. All the people I had to make sure were alright, that they were still alive and fighting. Images of Dora, Remus, and the Weasley family members rushed through my head as I helped round up those who could still be helped. Those who needed healing because they were still alive. They could still be saved. There were others out there far braver than me who set out to retrieve the bodies of those who could fight no longer. Before any more damage could be done to their bodies. For there to still be something for family members and loved ones to recognize when the time came for them to say their last goodbyes. 

I, alongside the Hogwarts Matron, healed as fast as we were possibly able to. I wasn't aware of any healers on the other side, but it had been years since I was familiar with their circle. I didn't know what we would be facing up against when the battle would recommence. I didn't know how many our side had taken down... or if there were still enough of our side to still have a fighting chance. I knew the fight would have to continue, it was a fact I knew would come to pass as there was no way anyone would allow Harry to hand himself over and that even if he was captured, those who were loyal to the cause, to Harry, would never stop fighting.

My heart ached for Charlie to be there to comfort me. For him to wrap his arms around me and assure me that all would be fine and that we would turn out victorious... but for every part of me that longed to have him hear also longed for him to stay away. That should the worst come to be our son would still have a parent around to care for him and love him as any parent should. Most of all I hoped that our son would be able to grow up in a world where he would never have to worry about things like war. That all Artie would ever know was peace, happiness, and love. The sort of childhood everyone deserves.

My mind was completely shaken from its thoughts when I heard sobs, unlike anything I had ever heard before. Thinking someone was alone and extreme pain I rushed around a corridor corner to see the shaking frame of a blonde girl I knew from my summer at Grimmauld Place and whom I had seen what could have only been a couple of hours earlier. Eliza-Marie, one of the two twin daughters of Edith Brown and Remus Lupin sat in the corridor crying in a way, unlike anything I had ever seen before. Without thinking I rushed over and took a seat next to her. The instant I saw her I could tell it wasn't healing this girl needed... it was someone to comfort her. For a moment I sat next to the crying girl without saying a word, seeing first if she would speak, and it seemed I was right as her sobs seemed to slow just enough for her to muster out some words.

"I think she ended up in the wrong house." Eliza cried softly as we sat together against the chipped and the scarred stone wall of the outside of the battered castle. "She was brave and she didn't think it through... or maybe she did... but now she's gone... and I don't remember how to live without her. I don't think I can live without her... I don't think..."

I slowly wrapped my arm around the younger girl, though she could hardly be called a girl anymore. Anyone who fought through this fight was in no way a child anymore. The battle erased any sense of childhood from the mind. Eliza-Marie had become a woman, an adult in a way she hadn't been before despite the fact that she was already of age for well over a year. Despite the fact that she was done with school, before this night I had still seen her as just a girl. I no longer did. This wasn't the same girl whom I had the scarce conversation with years before, this was someone totally different crying before me.

"What happened Eliza-Marie?"

A loud sob choked through the hallway once again as she fell into another uncontrollable fit of sobs. When she regained control, her fists were clenched up so tight her knuckles were red and her arms were stiff. Small droplets of blood formed in her hands as her nails pierced her skin drawing blood. She didn't stop despite the pain I knew it must have been causing her, she continued to clench her hands which were already dirty with dust and dirt from the war around us.