Marooned - Fred Weasley

Chapter 64: Deathwish

AN

Another chapter because I'm nice like that ;) I truly hope you enjoy!

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Sarah walked up the stairs and took in the decor, it was sober, dark, grey, old. Almost royal but deprived of color.

She followed Olga through an incredibly large hall, the ceilings were at least twenty feet tall, three fireplaces and an enormous crystal chandelier above her. It would have been a wonderful house, place, were it not for the convenient and freezing jailhouse below their feet.

It was warmer now, she felt the warmth of the month of August and now that she was approaching the door leading to the dining room, she became nervous, frightened of what tonight was about.

Olga opened the doors and announced their guest had arrived and she walked in, saw Lucius and his wife Narcissa Malfoy standing next to the fireplace mantle, drinking a glass of brandy. Before eating. That could only mean that Voldemort's plans weren't working as planned and they were on edge. If she played it right, she might just talk her way out of this.

"Miss McCauley," said Lucius dryly, trying to summon a semblance of a smile, "Take a seat, please."

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Fred was sleeping on the couch ever since he came back from the Burrow. He couldn't sleep in his room, knowing the reason her side of the bed was empty wasn't because she had an early morning at the hospital but because she was missing. For far too long now.

"Freddie," George approached him slowly, crouched down to squeeze his shoulder gently.

Fred shook his head, keeping his eyes closed, "Don't," he rasped, "Let me sleep. It's the only way I get to see her again." He turned his head and buried his face into his pillow, he was holding her wand under it, and he tried to go back to the dream he had before George woke him.

"You need to eat something, drink something. Come to the shop with me," pleaded George, checking his watch, there was still time if he managed to convince him. "She wouldn't want this, you know that."

Fred didn't answer, he knew if she were here she'd throw a bucket of ice cold water or spark a Weasleys' firework that would snap at his head until he was up and running away from it. He'd run after her, catch her, make her screech with laughter. He had that playing on repeat, every perfect moment of theirs, the ones he never took for granted and adored every second, now they were the only thing keeping him sane.

The memory of her eyes, the playful bright green he fell in love with, golden specks that challenged him and made him blush countless times. Her delicate hold of his face when she kisses him, like she wants to keep him there, for it to never end. Her lovely voice, speaking against his ear, calling him 'Fred' or 'Freddie' making him lose his mind every time. This is exactly why he wanted George to leave him, so he could keep on imagining, pretending it wasn't real, escaping into fever dreams where he's holding her, kissing her, hearing her voice.

"You need to muster the strength to get out of your head, at a minimum at least. If not for yourself, then for her. She'll need you when she comes back," George was fighting his quavering voice at the sight of his brother, himself and Selena also worried out of their minds and just trying to go about it one step at a time. George didn't know if he'd gotten through to Fred or not, he gently squeezed his shoulder again and stood up.

"Wait," said Fred, locked eyes with George. They were glassy and hollow, he had trouble keeping them open, "I'll come."

"I'll wait up, then," George nodded and watched how Fred got up, hesitated before turning the handle on his bedroom door. He hadn't stepped inside since they came back, and George was a bit amazed at the strength he'd managed just by thinking of her. How much he loved her. Fred walked in and shut out the memories flooding in as soon as he did, he had to stop and press his back against the wall for a second. But he pulled himself together, for her sake. So he concentrated on the practicality of everything he did, in a matter of minutes he was ready and out the door, his pocket watch, his wand and hers, tucked in the inner pocket of his jacket.