the muggle next door | f.w. golden trio era

↳ 4.8

the first morning

December 27th, 1995

DAISY THOUGHT SHE was dreaming.

However sweet and beautiful, a dream was just a dream. A brief, fleeting story that she would forget momentarily after waking up.

She had been sleeping for most of the last two days, drifting in and out of consciousness. She could breathe a little better now, and the sharp pains had turned into incessant dull aches.

Or maybe because she was turning numb. She was starting to let go.

Except for an unfamiliar middle-aged man wearing doctor coat, she was always alone.

But last night, Mrs. Weasley came into her dream. Her eyes looked tired and more age lines were visible on her face —she looked like she had aged ten years in the last four months, but it was definitely her. And she kept on saying that she would save her... That they would be together again... Safely...

There was a surge of coldness and some strange words... 12 Grimmauld Place... Some order and some mythical bird...

The next time Daisy opened her eyes, she was back in bed.

It really was a dream, she thought, consumed by disappointment.

Of course, the dream was too good to be true, and it was too cruel. The Weasleys' sudden departure had knocked her down and she needed a long time to get back on her own two feet. She had forcefully banished every thought of them from her mind, pushing her physique and mental state to their limits, sparing no energy nor time to indulge herself with the hope of their return... Except for a few nights when the pain got too unbearable, and she let herself cry as she emptied out her feelings into unsent letters.

So why did they have to appear in her dream?

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A/N:

Dun dun dun.....!!!

I know. Not a really good April Fool thing, right? Let's continue.

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UNTIL SHE REALIZED that the ceiling looked different. It was... black. Dusty. Washed off.

She grunted as she shifted in her position, and noticed that most of the dull aches had gone. Then she turned her head and found herself sleeping in an unfamiliar room.

"Daisy..."

She nearly choked when she saw Mrs. Weasley, knitting on a couch barely two feet away from her. "Mrs— Mrs. Weasley?"

"How are you feeling?" Her voice sounded half-muffled, but she could still make out her words.

"This— Is this real?"

"It is, it is!"

Daisy used all of her remaining strength to sit up and pulled Mrs. Weasley into a hug.

"My— my ear... It's ringing," Daisy said in alarm. Now that her mind was sound, the truth of her condition seemed to hit her all at once. "And my chest— I can't breathe— properly... My— my leg— My face—"

"Ssshh... It's okay," Mrs. Weasley said softly, "You'll be healed in no time, dear. All of these will go away."

"Where— am I?"

"Remember what I told you last time, that Arthur, Bill, Charlie, and I are joining an organization to defeat You-Know-Who, called Order of the Phoenix? This is the headquarter."