Scratches (Fred Weasley)

(193) July Twenty-Seven

The days passed by rather quickly. The chill in the air was mostly gone, and the sun was out in the sky more than it used to be. But the weather was no indication for good days ahead, Florence knew, as she stood in front of the calendar, dread brewing in the pit of her stomach at the encircled date.

July 27. It was the next day.

After her row with Sloan, Florence made no further efforts in talking Fred and George out of volunteering themselves to go with Harry. She knew that they had made up their minds, and she was also too preoccupied with worrying to even try anymore. She hoped, for her own sanity, that she was wrong about the bad feeling she was having, despite the fact that she knew that her gut was rarely wrong.

Nicolai had stopped by that day to tell Florence that they were going to be with the Order members waiting at the Burrow, as Moody had requested for people with healing capabilities to stand guard in case they were needed.

Florence woke up in Fred's arms in the morning of July 27. He had one arm slung over her torso as usual, his chin resting on top of her head. She glanced at the clock from where she laid, seeing the time and knowing full well that they only had a few minutes to get up, but wanting to linger in his arms for a little while longer.

Fred stirred awake as soon as the clock hit 7:30, making her huff softly, cursing Fred's body clock as he was so used to waking up that time to start opening up the store. Soon enough, Florence heard George's door open and shut, which prompted Fred to rouse from his half asleep state. Florence yanked him back down as he tried to sit up, a small smile appearing on his lips as she did so, "Hey... we can't stay in bed much longer. Our presence is needed today. Badly."

"I know..." she mumbled, snuggling back into his chest as he played with her hair, "I just need a minute...or three."

Fred chuckled, "Two minutes?"

"Fine." she said, feeling Fred's arms wrap around her once more.

"I know you're worried." he whispered into her ear, "I am too... but you gotta trust that we'll be alright."

"I wish I could..." Florence whispered back, "But we have no control of circumstance, no matter how much we wish we did..."

"Well, you trust me, don't you? You trust George?"

Florence nodded, "With my life."

"Then trust us when we say we'll be alright. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, lying through her teeth. "I love you. So much."

"And I love you." he said, ducking down to kiss the tip of her nose.

Fred and Florence got up for breakfast shortly, walking in to the kitchen to see that George had already put on the kettle. Florence whipped up some bacon, eggs and toast, the three of them eating their breakfast in silence. The first half of the twins' day was going to go on as normal, the two deciding to open the shop for half of the day before they needed to head over to headquarters to prepare. An oblivious Verity was rather happy for the half day off, and had immediately started planning for a girl's afternoon with her sisters.

Florence left for the Manor earlier than the twins, hugging them both before heading out the door, knowing that she won't see them for the rest of the day, and hopefully no longer than that. By the time she reached the Manor, Julien and Sloan were already waiting for her by the steps, the three of them apparating to Little Whinging together. It was still 10 in the morning by the time they arrived, the neighborhood looking peaceful and quiet, as though it was another Sunday morning. The Dursleys car was parked in the driveway, a moving truck parked street-side by the house.