I Know The End {Fred Weasley, ACT I}

Chapter 38- Girls Night Out

Okay, so maybe she knew nothing for certain.

Eleanor and Fred were in a state of war and he was using the strongest weapon at his disposal to chip away at her willpower – silence. And as much as she hated to admit it, it was working. He was wearing her down, making her wonder if maybe it wouldn't be a death sentence to gift him back his memories. And could the memories lead to a reconciliation? To more than just a reconciliation? He was tempting her, successfully, by keeping her in the dark. She might have caved if it hadn't been for the nightmares. The nightmares always kept her in check, showing her the more than likely future every night. Dead Fred, alive Eleanor, dead Fred, grieving Eleanor. The simple reminder kept a lock on his memories, even when her resolution faltered.

Fred's silence was not completely foreign to her. They'd fought so much in the beginning of their sixth year that she should have been used to it. But it had never lasted this long before. They were halfway through January, Eleanor having turned down Sirius's offer to return to Grimmauld Place after discovering Iris and Alicia to be in her corner, and he had not uttered a single word to her since the night she told him the truth. It was driving her mad. She had returned to wondering if she'd devised her entire personality around Fred and George, feeling so void of life in their absence. Maybe she needed them to ignore her. Maybe she needed to figure out who she was without Fred and George Weasley at her side.

But to be completely honest, she did not care to discover who she was without them, even if it was slightly pathetic.

And it was for that reason that she found herself pacing in front of the steps that lead to the boys' dormitory, her perseverance broken, unable to take it any longer. She needed to know that she still existed somewhere in his world, even if he hated her. At least that would be something. Anything. After all, it's a fine line between love and hate.

Unfortunately, Lee exited the dormitory first, disgruntled that he found himself face to face with her first thing in the morning. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the doorway to survey her with displeasure. "What do you want?"

"Uh, good morning to you, too," Eleanor glowered. Lee's anger had lost its original sting. At this point, she found it to be an irritation. Yes, she was evil bitch, she got the gist. He didn't have to hate her this much on Fred's behalf. Wasn't he her friend too?

"What do you want?" He repeated, unamused.

"Er, I just want to talk to him-"

"I don't think he wants to talk to you," Lee stated simply.

"Well, he can tell me that for himself."

Eleanor wasn't exactly mad at Lee. Lee was a very protective person, it was simply in his nature, and Fred ranked higher than Eleanor did in terms of his affection. Just as Iris was protective of Eleanor. But the two of them were starting to get on her nerves. The whole thing had nothing to do with them. It was between her and Fred, and their friends were only further driving the wedge that kept them apart. She was trying to be reasonable, trying to be understanding, but in that moment, she wanted to wallop Lee about the head and push her way into Fred's dormitory.

"Well, are you willing to give him his memories back?"

"That's none of your business," she snapped, anger surging through her veins. She was spared of Lee's response by the emergence of Fred and George from the stairwell.

Her heart skipped a beat, the way it sometimes did when she saw Fred, but this time felt different. Because for the first time in a month, his eyes acknowledged her presence. He looked between Lee and Eleanor, his brow slightly furrowed. Her face made matters worse, reddening not only from the slightest nod of his attention but from the anger she'd directed at Lee. She was about to turn away, give up on her task entirely now that it had become a public affair, when his eyes met hers. He rooted her in place, unable to look away at the wonderment before her. He was looking at her, really looking at her. This was her chance.