Undying Devotion: A Weasley Love Story.

Chapter 51: Guin and Fred

**Guinevere’s POV **

I gently lift myself off the bed as to not wake Charlie. It has been a long night for everyone with the arrival of my dad. Tomorrow would be even worse. I had to prepare for my leave and make arrangements for my dad’s safety. I also would be expected to explain tonight’s events to all those who had been absent during tomorrow’s meeting.

I try to push the overwhelming thoughts from my head as I slip a plush, warm robe over my pajamas and slowly slip out of the bedroom and out of the back door. Although the house was surrounded by protective enchantments I couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of being out in the dark alone, but the cool night air made it worth it.

I lay in the hammock that rest between two strong oak trees. Before long I’m drifting into a deep slumber.

**Fred’s POV**

My sleep is haunted by visions of death, mostly that of my family. I toss and turn profusely until I finally force myself to wake. Since Allura insisted she sleep with her papa I decided I would sleep in the guest room. I was actually kind of jealous since Allura always slept in my arms when I was here. She so readily replaced me. And the boys—well they aren’t the most pleasant company to have at night.

Feeling a bit paranoid from my dreams I turn on the light. My bed and clothes are soaked with sweat and my body is burning up. I walk to the kitchen and get a cold glass of water. I take it out the back door to cool off.  The cool wind is refreshing. I pace around the shelter of the patio cover keep cool and dry from the light rain. That is, until I see a figure a few yards into the distance. I immediately draw out my wand forcing myself to investigate my unwanted guest. I am absolutely stunned with a see a shivering, soaking wet Guin sleeping unsoundly on the hammock.

“Guinevere?” I say slowly as I gently shake her awake. She stirs sleepily before giving a violent shudder.

“It’s cold.” She hoarsely whispers. I inch closer to her. She smiles slightly. “I was dreaming about you.”

“Wha—what?” I asked stunned. She blushes slightly.

“I mean, I had a dream about when we were younger. Before this war, before everything went wrong.” She says softly.

“I don’t understand.” I say stammering. A flood of emotion runs over me as she talks about this. For so long I ignored our past and the feelings I once had for her. The truth is that when she chose Cedric over me—I was broken. Of course I know my jealous rage was to blame. But every time I tried to make it right I made it worse. And when she left—and I thought she died—I knew I would never forgive myself. I wanted to pretend she didn’t exist so I wouldn’t hurt anymore. But George wouldn’t give up. I knew he loved her from the start. But he stood by patiently waiting for his chance. Or perhaps letting me have mine.

“Fred, I know you know what I mean.” She tells me. “Have your forgiven me?” She asks shakily, tears streaming from her face. At first I feel like I need to run away. What happened to the happy-go-lucky Fred that planned pranks?

“Why would I need to forgive you?” I ask reassuringly not wanting the subject to surface. I mutter a spell to instantly dry her sopping wet clothes.

“Thanks.” Guinevere tells me quietly. “Fred—we need to talk about this. I don’t want anything left unsaid. Some of us won’t make it to the end of the year.” She adds solemnly.

“Who? “I ask. Fear and dread fills my heart but Guinevere doesn’t answer. She merely shakes her head.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t bare to look. And it could horribly alter the future if I did. For all I know it’s me.” Guinevere murmurs.