DOROTHEA {fred weasley}

eighty four

"If you're refusing the order's help, Dorothea, then what do you need me for?" Fred Weasley asked the witch who was still sat across from him in his dimly lit office.

"I need somewhere to go afterwards."

"A safe house?"

The witch shrugged, "presumably those have to be order provided, and I'm not convinced they'll offer me one when I'm refusing their help. You and George were always very proactive, I'm sure you can figure something out."

Fred frowned at her a little, "we offered you this last year, Dorothea."

"And if I had taken it, Elvira would have died."

"She died anyway."

Dorothea nodded, digging her nails into her palms at the mention of her late best friend.

"She got to experience living with Oliver, joining the order, she had more time with you, and with her parents. That's all that I can think."

"You can't go back on this again, Rosier," he said, speaking seriously. "This isn't a game anymore. People are dying and going missing. I have to trust that you're with us, completely. You know I'll work on a safe place for you, but that will be easier said than done without involving anybody else."

"You can involve George, Oliver, and Lee," she shrugged. "You were all friends with Elvira too, I'm sure they want to see Ezra avenged."

"Most of the order want to see him in Azkaban, actually."

"And you?"

"I've wanted to see him dead for a while, Dorothea, as I'm sure you know."

"So we're working together, I'll kill him, and you'll keep me safe afterwards, give me somewhere to lay low."

"Your mother-"

"I'm going to bide my time, Fred. By the time I've vanished, the war will be too far gone for her to put too much effort into searching for her daughter."

He nodded, "okay, I assume I can't write to you?"

Dorothea shook her head and leant back thoughtfully, "it's fairly easy for me to come and go as I please at the minute, the dark lord seems to have lost interest in me for now, apparently Ezra shows more promise after murdering his old friend. I can come here again?"

"Yeah, okay, check in with me whenever, at least once a week," he began to rummage around in his desk drawer and pulled out a small coin, the same ones he used with George to urgently communicate. "You just squeeze this before you make your way to Diagon Alley, and I'll be here. I can open a floo?"

The witch shook her head again, "no, a floo between mine and here is risky, I'll just apparate."

"No muggle trains?" He joked with a smile, recalling their time in London where the witch had taught him how to use the London underground. It felt like a long time ago.

Dorothea grinned back, "maybe one day."

Later, in a sheltered corner of The Leaky Cauldron, Fred sat with Oliver and George, seemingly paranoid as he checked over his shoulder. George had observed a change in the man, from the moment he walked in. He looked lighter than he had for months, there wasn't much hope going around, but Fred seemed to be full of it.

"What couldn't wait then?" George asked, taking a swig of butterbeer.

"Dorothea came to see me this last night," he said, trying to hide a brief smile.

Oliver too bit back a grin, remembering he was playing the grieving partner. Camille had been right, he had to give her credit for it. Elvira's supposed death was indeed all it had taken for Dorothea to switch sides, his girlfriend would be thrilled.