"Didn't know you was into gingers, Malfoy?"
"Shut up Weasley"
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Gemma Weasley shared many similarities with her siblings, the ginger hair, pale skin, freckles and a super sense of humour, yet she was the one that stood out from them all. Even her tw...
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I was jolted awake by the sound of someone calling my name. At first, I thought I was dreaming—still floating somewhere in that half-asleep haze—but then the voice came again, louder this time.
"Gemma!"
I blinked and sat up, squinting through the darkness of the Gryffindor girls' dormitory. Ronald was standing at the foot of my bed, his face pale and his hair sticking up at all angles. My heart sank instantly; something was wrong.
"Ron?" I whispered, fumbling for my wand. "What's happened? Are you alright?"
"Come on," he said, his voice shaky as he gestured for me to follow. "It's Dad. Just—just come with me, okay?"
My stomach clenched at his words, and without hesitation, I threw on a jumper, not minding it being Draco's, over my pajamas and followed him. The dormitory was eerily quiet, and the only sound was the creak of the stairs as we descended to the common room.
"Ron, what are you talking about?" I pressed as we hurried down the corridors.
"Harry had a... a dream or a vision or something," Ron muttered, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. "He saw Dad—he said something attacked him."
My chest tightened. "Attacked him? What does that mean? How does Harry—"
"Shh!" he hissed, cutting me off as we turned a corner. Professor McGonagall was standing ahead, her lips pressed into a grim line, and Harry was with her. He looked completely out of it, his face pale and his eyes wide, as though he wasn't quite awake.
"What's going on?" I asked, but McGonagall just motioned for us to follow her.
"Not here," she said briskly, leading us toward the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. My legs felt like lead as we walked, my mind racing with every possible scenario. What had happened to Dad? Where was Mum? Why did Harry look like he'd seen a ghost?
The gargoyle leapt aside at McGonagall's command, and we ascended the spiral staircase. The sight of Dumbledore's office, usually so full of warmth and curiosity, only heightened the knot in my stomach. He was already waiting for us, standing behind his desk with a serious expression.
"Professor," Ron blurted as soon as we stepped in. "Is Dad—what's happened to Dad?"
I noticed the rest of my siblings in the corner of the room and I immediately went up to Ginny, giving her a hug. Fred placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder as we waited for Dumbledore to speak. Harry, meanwhile, was still standing in the middle of the room, staring at Dumbledore with a haunted look.
"In the dream were you standing next to the victim or looking down at the scene?" Dumbledore asked Harry, who was still breathing heavily.
"Neither" Harry replied. "It was like I ... Professor will you please just tell me what's happened?"
