𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

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"They're dead!"

The words echoed down the cobblestone streets, rippling through the air like a phantom. People huddled together in small groups, whispering with fearful urgency. A lady's loud cry pierced the growing murmur, sending a shiver through the crowd.

"Bones! Prewetts and McKinnon! Dead!" The newspaper boy's shouts were quickly hushed, his voice a stark reminder of the peril that lurked just beyond the shadows.

"Down boy, don't yell," an elderly man admonished, his voice trembling with the weight of shared sorrow.

A heavy silence settled over the alley, thick and foreboding like the prelude to a storm. The usual bustling chatter of Diagon Alley was replaced by an eerie stillness, every creak and rustle magnified in the oppressive quiet.

Inside a home far away, the atmosphere was no less tense. The twins lay in their cot, blissfully unaware of the turmoil outside, their tiny bodies gently rocked by a red-haired woman. Molly Weasley hummed softly, her voice cracking with emotion as she fought to soothe her own fears as much as those of the children.

"Sleep now, Francis, sleep. Daddy will be home soon," she whispered, though the tears streaming down her cheeks betrayed her uncertainty. She held the twins close, their steady breaths a balm to her own nerves. The world outside seemed to be unraveling, fear and grief seeping into every corner of their lives.

As she rocked them, the door creaked open, and Arthur Weasley stepped inside. His face was etched with exhaustion and sorrow, lines of worry deepening around his eyes. He looked at Molly, and without a word, she knew he bore more bad news.

"The Order has been hit hard," Arthur whispered, closing the door softly behind him. "But we must stay strong, Molly. Remus is here for a meeting," His eyes fell on the twins, who had finally drifted off to sleep.

Molly nodded, her heart heavy. She gently kissed each twin on the forehead. With one last look at her sleeping children, she stepped out of the room, steeling herself for the conversation with Remus.

In the silence that followed, the dimly lit room was suddenly bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. A momentary hush fell over the room, interrupted only by the faint, joyful giggles of the twins. Francis and Sixtine cooed and babbled as if they recognized the presence that had entered.

"Aren't you the prettiest babies?" a gentle voice cooed. Sixtine reached out, her tiny hand grasping at the dark locks that shimmered in the glowing light.

The face of the figure was blurred by a sparkling haze, but the voice was unmistakably tender, filled with an otherworldly warmth.

"It's time to go home," the motherly voice said softly. "Both my babies will live in pretty places, not here."

By the time Molly reentered the room, the glow had vanished, and with it, the twins. Only an empty cot remained, the silence heavy and foreboding in their absence.

Molly's heart clenched in panic. She rushed to the cot, her hands trembling as she searched for any sign of her children. Tears streamed down her face as she called out their names, her voice breaking with desperation. Arthur ran in, alarmed by her cries, and they frantically searched the room.

But there was no trace of Francis and Sixtine. The room was devoid of their presence, the only evidence of their existence the warmth that still lingered in the air where they had been.Molly fell to her knees, her sobs wracking her body. Arthur knelt beside her, holding her close, his own tears falling silently. Outside, the storm that had been brewing finally broke, rain hammering against the windows, echoing the heartache that filled the house.

𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓, 𝐏𝐉𝐎 𝐱 𝐇𝐏Where stories live. Discover now