The summer crawled on, even though Gemma had enjoyed her time immensely with Luna and her father for the couple of weeks she had stayed at their house.
No one from the Ministry ever came to investigate the Lovegood residence–not even when Mr. Lovegood performed magic in Gemma's presence. She prayed to the stars they just thought she was visiting friends and not target them after she left. She had considered leaving a couple times–but Luna stopped her and reassured her that everything would be okay.
Despite the fear that lingered in everything she did, Gemma listened to her and relaxed–enjoying her limited time with Luna.
In her time with them, Gemma had made more and more trips to London–the Lovegoods not questioning her actions when she would leave with the motorbike and return in the evenings with food from the nearby village.
But the morning of her seventeenth birthday, Gemma was awoken by pecking on Luna's window.
The blonde still slept soundly, with a slight line of drool dripping from her lips while Gemma dragged herself out of bed.
Her eyes widened significantly when she spotted her owl, whom she regrettably forgot about, carrying a small wicker basket and a familiar little creature by the tuft of his neck.
"Scotch!" Gemma cried, her eyes tearing up as the Niffler jumped into her arms. Calico set the basket on the windowsill and landed expectantly next to it.
Gemma found a little piece of scone she and Luna had snuck up the night before and passed it to the owl–kissing him on the head and murmuring, "Thank you, dearest creature."
Calico hooted at her and continued to stare at her.
Gemma smiled softly at him as Scotch already had settled himself on her shoulder–clinging to her braid as she turned to the basket.
And she knew it was the work of Fred immediately.
How? Because of the giant banner across the basket handles in his slight chicken scratch that read: Cricket. In the basket were envelopes upon envelopes–all wrapped up in a dark green ribbon. They were all written in different scripts, which led Gemma to believe that Fred had asked people to write her letters before he gathered them all up and sent them away with Scotch and Calico.
Gemma smiled warmly at the gift–kissing the top one to her lips before grinning at her animal companions and whispering, "He is the best, isn't he?"
Neither answered, but Gemma knew they understood her.
She had just tucked away the letters into her satchel–which she had re-retrieved from Hermione after a visit where they told her that Mundungus Fletcher had sold the damn necklace to a particularly evil ex-Hogwarts professor, and the four were currently trying to figure out how to get it back and break into the Ministry (not that her friends or brother let her go out on scouting missions while she was with them; apparently it was too unusual for a red fox to roam the roofs of London) while not getting caught by the Death Eaters and Ministry workers that always seemed to be hovering around Grimmauld Place–when Luna sat straight up in bed, her eyes enormous and staring at Gemma as she declared, "Your birthday."
Gemma laughed as the Lovegood girl stumbled out of bed and wrapped her arms tightly around her, singing Happy Birthday out of tune in an impressively peckish voice for having just woken up.
"Oh, you must let me give you your gifts and make your food before you leave!" Luna told Gemma sternly after finishing her show. "Daddy will be furious if you leave without letting us celebrate you."
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the hallows - f. weasley
Fanfictionin which Gemma Hilton and her friends become fugitives in order to save the world - again or in which a girl has to desperately cling to the hope that she and her friends have strength to defeat the dark once and for all (Slowburn Fred Weasley...