DOROTHEA {fred weasley}

thirty five

Oliver was awoken by erratic banging on his front door, he jumped out of bed, quickly pulling clothes on, apprehensively heading to the door with his wand drawn. Elvira Jones on his doorstep, looking utterly exhausted and stressed was certainly not what he expected to find.

"Elvira?" He asked, squinting from the light of her wand, shielding his eyes with his hand.

"I need help," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "It's Dorothea."

"What's happened?" He asked, pushing the door open further and stepping backwards, letting her inside.

"I don't know," she said, tears falling freely now. "She was attacked, or cursed, or something. She owled me, we got her- Fred and George and me - from her house, she's really hurt, she's at mine, but her parents-"

"Slow down, Elvira," Oliver said, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said, putting her hand to her forehead. "First Ced, now this, I don't know what's happening, I don't know how to deal with any of this."

Oliver swallowed at the mention of his friend and brushed the thought aside, "where is she now?"

"At my house, but my parents..."

The wizard nodded, understanding, "bring her here."

"Can you open your fireplace? She can't apparate... She's so hurt Oliver."

"Yeah, course, who's with her?"

"Fred. George has gone to get his dad, to help her."

"Okay," Oliver nodded, pointing a wand at the fireplace in his living room and then looking to his elf, "set up a few rooms for tonight, please."

"Thank you," Elvira said, hugging him quickly. "George and Arthur will be here soon. I'm going to go back and help Fred with her. We'll be back soon."

"Alright, stay safe."

George's heart fell when he noticed a downstairs light still on in his home, he prayed that it was Arthur, not Ron and Ginny, or worse, his mum. Sure enough, when he tentatively pushed the front door open, he fund his dad sat at the kitchen table, glasses on, staring at spread out pieces of parchment.

"Where's Fred?" Arthur asked, looking up expectantly. "You should apparate together." He said sternly.

George rolled back on his heels a little, wondering how best to approach the subject.

"George?" His dad asked, taking his glasses off and looking at his son.

"We need your help."

Arthur sighed and crossed his arms, "what have you done now?"

"No, we need help healing someone."

A flash of worry crossed the man's eyes, "what's happened?"

George swallowed, "a cruciatus curse, we think."

"What-"

"Dad," George said, holding his hands up, "I don't know the details, I just know she needs help."

"Who is it?"

He hesitated and sighed, "I'll explain when we're there. Please."

"Alright, okay," Arthur nodded, gathering his parchments and then rushing to a potions cupboard rushedly looking at various vials.

"Thank you," George sighed.

Once Elvira was back in her own home, she tiptoed up the stairs to her room, Dorothea wasn't moving on her bed, and Fred sat on the floor, twisting his wand between his fingers.