PURIFY : Fred Weasley

33: Detatched

The ministry job really picks up after that. So does work at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Soon enough, summer is over and the fall is rolling in. Every time that I see Fred, be it for coffee or a walk in the park, he's on edge. He's always on the lookout for Landry, no matter where we go. We're safe, I reassure him, so long as we are in public.

It gets to be too much though, so in September, I agree to meet with Alastor Moody.

I go into work early, heading into the department of ministries. From there, I make my way to the auror offices.

Alastor Moody's is clutter. The same man who I believed to have taught me Defense Against the Dark Arts looks just as scattered in real life. He stares at me, the eyebrow above his fake eye raised.

"Well," he begins, his voice heavy and quick, "are you going to sit down?"

I follow his lead and sit down in the chair. There is an old tea set on the table, and the cup in front of me still has a brown stain from the last time it was used. He doesn't pour any for me like I expect him to do. He doesn't do anything as I expect.

"So, I hear you've run away from Travers?" he asks.

I nod my head. I don't dare speak. It's strange being in front of someone who feels so familiar, yet that I've never met before. Alastor Moody bites his lip, surely hard enough to draw blood. He leans in closer to me, raising his nose as if he's going to sniff me.

"Nothing gets past me," he says. "I would know if you're lying."

"I'm not," I tell him, finally daring to speak.

He looks at me, then over my shoulder. He blinks twice, before focusing on my eyes. His stare is particularly menacing. "Did you know what he cursed you with?"

It was so long ago, that I can barely remember the night. Sometimes, it comes back to me in dreams. I try to wrack my mind for what it was. All I can think about is waking up, sweating, alone.

"Come with me," he instructs.

We head out of his office and down a hallway. He leads me past people who seem busy, whose eyes linger on me as we pass by. I feel myself shrinking. I must look like he caught me, and I'm on my way to Azkaban, just like my uncle.

We end up in a dark room. It's illuminated by the wispy white smoke, pooling out of a bowl. It's a pensieve. I don't know that I've ever seen one in my life.

"Just pull out the memory, and we should be able to do the trick," Alastor Moody says.

I'm not entirely sure how to do it. Instead, I try to focus on the moments after the event as clearly as possible. My brother, wand in hand, striking me. Hitting the ground, screaming in pain. My mother, trying to help me but failing. My father, yelling at my brother but refusing to help me.

There is a tear down my face. Alastor Moody grabs it with a finger and flicks it into the pensieve. "Should do you the trick now."

I nod and turn to it. Quickly, I dive my face in.

I'm back there. It's cold. Even in the memory, I can feel how biting the frost is. I'm standing in the snow, but leaving no footprints. I watch as I turn around, and my brother fires a curse at me.

Then, I scream. It scares my mother, her horrified face shocked as she runs up to me. She trips but keeps going. Then, my father comes running out of the house. He grabs my brother around the neck. I've never seen such fear in Landry's eyes. He stares forward, trying not to flinch as my father holds him in place.