NO SIGNAL ➝ FRED WEASLEY [1] ✓

NINETY THREE [MOVING DAY]

[SLIGHT TW FOR SU!CIDE AT THE END]

The afternoon before the Bishop twins left Shell Cottage was hectic and filled with rushed preparations.

The first order of business was making sure they had packed everything they'd brought, and doing that meant erasing nearly every trace of their existence from the cottage. This is what took up most of the afternoon, even with magic.

When everything was packed, and Amelia and Bellamy's rooms were empty once more, it was time to wait for their guard from the Order to arrive.

As it turned out, their "guard" was Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin on  broomsticks, each equipped with a flask of Polyjuice Potion for the girls to drink in order to transport them to Ottery St. Catchpole.

"So, er, who exactly are we turning into?" Bellamy asked, uncertain.

Amelia, however, did not question the potion, and took a few swigs of it without any hesitation.

"Guess we'll find out."

The sensation of her entire body growing taller by eleven inches was, firstly, totally and ridiculously unpleasant, on the verge of being painful; secondly, it told her all she needed to know about who she was becoming.

"You've got to be bloody kidding me."

Even if it weren't for the massive height change, Amelia would've known whose hair was in the Polyjuice Potion by the size of the hands and, specifically, how long and slender the fingers were. She'd never met anyone whose fingers were remotely close to being that long.

"Whose idea was it for me to change into my boyfriend? Because that... is brilliant." She laughed, running the hands that were not hers over her now-flat chest and stomach.

She was acutely aware of how tight her pants were now, and she regretted putting on jeans this morning; Fred was nearly a foot taller than her, and the cuffs of her jeans dug into her calves.

"This is freaky." Bellamy said from next to her, and Amelia burst into laughter once more when she saw her sister.

In the place where Bellamy had been standing was George Weasley, but with Bellamy's voice.

"Alright," Kingsley stated sternly. "Enough laughing. The sun is setting—we've promised to get back to Diggory's soon."

Amelia's mouth snapped shut, and she nodded obediently. "Yes, sir."

Fleur gnawed on her bottom lip, anxious to have the girls leave after being at Shell Cottage for so long. While they were here, she could watch over them, feed them, nurture them. But once they left, she couldn't be there to, well, mother them, even though they were only a year younger than she.

The Veela pulled Amelia into a hug, which was a bit more awkward than their usual embraces due to Amelia's sudden height difference.

"I love you," Fleur whispered in her ear. "Please be safe. Write me as often as you can."

Amelia turned away before Fleur could see the tears that welled up in her eyes, overwhelmed by emotions

"Are you ready, girls?" Remus Lupin asked from the doorway of the cottage.

Amelia looked at George's face—was it Bellamy's face? She wasn't sure how to think of it—and nodded, watching as her sister did the same.

The Bishop twins bid Fleur and Bill goodbye before following Kingsley and Remus out onto the beach.

Kingsley had been right; the sky was lit up with orange and pink clouds, and the sun was dipping down under the horizon, more and more every minute that passed.

"Amelia, you'll be riding with Kingsley. Bels, you're with me, alright?" Remus asked, hefting his broomstick in order to hold it a bit more comfortably.

Now, Amelia was no stranger to riding a broom. After all, she was a chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team for almost five years. But in Fred's body, with his gangly limbs and a different center of gravity, it took her a few moments to get used to the strangeness.

It was also quite strange to be in a grown man's body, holding on to another grown man for stability while flying through the air. However, Kingsley was an excellent flyer, and it was all smooth sailing.

The ride to Ottery St. Catchpole went by faster than Amelia expected, thankfully, for she was beginning to get broom-sores. That was something she didn't miss about quidditch.

When they landed, they were greeted with a welcome party, including Fred and George, as well as Molly and Arthur Weasley and Amos Diggory.

Thankfully, to save herself from the embarrassment of having to face her boyfriend while looking exactly like him, the Polyjuice Potion had worn off by the time she stumbled off the broom into Fred's arms.

Amelia latched onto him like a lifeline, refusing to let go even as Arthur came up to her with his wand pointed directly at her face.

"Arthur, what—"

"What is Amelia Bishop's boggart?"

"Dad, what are you doing?" Fred interjected, stepping in front of her.

Arthur's face was grim. "I'm not risking my family's safety. I need to make sure this is really Amelia."

"My boggart when I was thirteen, when we covered it in class, was Fred and my sister's dead, bloody bodies." Amelia answered honestly despite the wand inches from her face. "But my boggart when Lupin was teaching at Hogwarts was me. Hanging from a noose."

Arthur looked to Remus for confirmation. He nodded, and Arthur lowered his wand.

"Sorry, Amelia. Had to be sure."

here u go friends