sapphire || fred weasley

forty-nine

Triggering content, viewer discretion advised.

Ever since returning, Beatrice had confined herself to the private bedroom she and Fred were allowed to have to themselves. The room was small and slightly dark, the bed had only enough space so that the two of them could fit snuggly on it, but it was enough.

The good part being that they had their own bathroom as well, hence why Bea decided to not set a foot out of place from the comfort and familiarity of her and Fred's room.

On a daily basis, or at least when Fred was dealing with Order related things and couldn't be with her, she could tell that a small group of people who she assumed were her friends, sat outside her door to in their own way keep her company.

She knew who they were, but Beatrice still didn't feel ready to come out of her room and face everyone and an interrogation just yet. Fred had mentioned that Cedric, Graham, Adrian, Cee and Poppy agreed to stay and help the Order considering that they knew too much that could put them in danger.

However, none of them agreed to be considered Order nor Opposition members. Becoming part was not an option, especially since neither of them wanted to be used as pawns to carry on with Dumbledore's late wishes.

So far, Beatrice had managed to avoid everyone but Poppy, the latter who went to check in on her daily to see her progress after having healed her brain and the more superficial injuries she had arrived with. Still, no matter how much Poppy tried to talk to Beatrice, the blue-eyed girl always remained silent doing what she was told until Poppy left and she could find her voice to talk to Fred again.

"So now that Dumbledore is dead," Bea asked when Fred sat on the bed next to her, "what happens next?"

"I have no fucking clue," Fred snorted and wrapped his strong arms around her waist, burying his face in her chest.

"They've been sending you to more missions, haven't they?" Bea rand her fingers through his red hair.

"Moody's form of punishment for acting without orders," he mumbled against her jumper which originally belonged to him.

"I hate that mad goat sometimes," she muttered. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I know baby, but it's fine," he lifted his face to smile up at her. "Part of the job I guess."

"I hate the job," she rolled her eyes.

"So do I," he nodded.

"Are these missions dangerous Fred?" she asked quietly and saw the flicker in his eyes that appeared every time he was trying to come with a rapid lie on spot. "Be honest."

"Some of them are," he sighed. "Some of them aren't."

"I don't understand why they overwork you," she huffed.

"Because no matter how much Moody and Shacklebolt hate to admit it, I'm the best they have," Fred smirked and earned a flick on the forehead from an annoyed Bea. "Me and George actually. Years of pranking and sneaking around finally paying off."

"I still don't think it's fair," she grunted. "I'm stuck here, worrying all day long when you're sent on missions, not knowing if you'll return while the rest are having a bloody tea party."

"Now with Dumbledore gone, protecting Harry is the main priority or so Moody says," Fred shrugged. "He's the only one who can take him out and if something happens to him, we're all screwed."

"You promised that we would leave this place," she whispered.

"As soon as you get better we'll leave," he said but deep inside, Beatrice couldn't help but try to believe his fake promises. "And you'll only get better if you do the exercises that Poppy sent you."