Enemies - Fred Weasley X OC

Unspeakable Secrets

~Fred~

The days had been good; they were busy and difficult but great all the same. George and I had spent every waking moment on the shop and it seemed to be paying off. We were only a week out from opening, just in time for the students coming back from Hogwarts. 

The letters from Zephy only added to my day - I'd do something and think about what Zephy might think of it, already forming the letter in my head that I'd write that evening. 

Being out of Umbridge's tirade and doing something we actually cared about transformed us a little bit. I felt older - more mature and confident. 

"Wha-" George said, as he caught sight of our dad's weasel patronus. 

"Come to St Mungo's immediately. Something's happened," dad sounded panicked as the words fell from the weasels open mouth, as though he'd made it in a rush. 

"Fuck," I said, standing up sharply and glancing at George. He didn't look too nervous, simply apprehensive, so I stuffed down any jitters and said, "floo?" 

George nodded silently, pacing towards our fireplace and vanishing in a flash of floo powder and fire. I followed, only pausing to double check the windows and doors were all closed. 

"St Mungo's," I said clearly, shooting up and leaving the small flat behind. 

I came out in the St Mungo's visitors area and was met by a barrage of sound. Masses of people were standing around and talking to one another, lining up before the inquiry desk. Many of them were in ministry robes, which took me aback, was dad or Kingsley hurt? 

They turned to face us and I felt rather out of place in my jeans and jumper. They quietened as they took us in, parting to let us through to the desk. 

"Hi! I was wondering if I could get a quote from you for the Daily Prophet," a perky voice said to us and I glanced over and saw Rita Skeeter fall in step beside us. 

"What?" I asked dumbly. 

"About the attack?" She said, looking at me as though I was being obtuse. 

"Attack," I repeated slowly.

"Leave them alone Skeeter," a gruff voice interrupted and one of the Aurors caught her arm and shared a sympathetic look with me and George. I shook my head.

We reached the desk and the man behind it took one look at us and said, "fourth floor - fifth ward." We hadn't even told him what we were there for and we must have both looked a little confused since the man paused and said, "you are Weasleys, correct?"

We nodded and the man made a well, go on then sort of gesture with his hands. 

George and I walked up the stairs quickly, glad to leave the throng behind. 

"What could have happened?" George questioned.

"No idea," I replied, voice coming out gravely - any attempt at quashing nerves was a complete failure at this point. George looked a little green, so I doubted he was faring much better. 

St Mungo's was a deeply unpleasant place to be - the smells were all acidic and the sound of someone wailing could almost always be heard through the echoing hallways. 

By the time we reached the ward the receptionist had told us, I was ready to leave. 

I opened the door and walked inside, there were about ten beds in the room and in each one was someone I recognised. Remus was lying in one talking to Moody who stood beside him. Tonks and Kingsley were in beds next to them. On the other side of the room was Ginny, my mum standing beside her, their heads close together as they spoke. Ron was nearby with dad; Neville and Hermione close by, Luna in a chair between them.