Falter - A Fred Weasley Sequel

21. Newfound Hope

"How do we kill it?"

The words echoed in Addie's head all night, and well into the next day. This thing inside Fred, it had felt...alive.

How do we kill it?

Each time she thought about her words, she shuddered. And, without fail, each time she thought about them, she thought about other words spoken by a man she had grown to despise.

How many times had Thomas told her that the Killing Curse was the only way to take Fred out of his misery?

It couldn't be true. Could it?

How do you kill something when's its wrapped itself another person so completely that it's become a part of them? How do you kill it without killing the host?

***

Fred didn't get out of bed the next day, nor the day after. He could barely sit up to eat, nearly howling in pain each time he moved his head. It was getting worse, and everyone was getting scared. He wasn't left alone again, the Weasley's taking turns to watch over him. Addie remained a constant presence at his bedside once again.

And with so much sitting, there was too much time to think. Her own words, and Thomas's echoed in her head until she could think of nothing else.

She tried to think of other ways. Surely there was a poison...but that would affect Fred too. Or a spell...but it would have to be aimed at Fred. Her head was in jumbles that day, and everyone seemed to notice. After the fourth time Molly called her name without her responding, the woman simply brought Addie a cup of tea and told her to go lay down for a bit.

But even in bed, she couldn't sleep, her head spinning with too many thoughts.

So when, that night, a knock on the door brought visitors, Addie welcomed the distraction. She hurried to the door, wrapped in a blanket, nearly tripping on the end in her hurry to open the door. She barely cracked it open when a figure came barreling through, pulling her into a hug, nearly toppling the two of them over.

When she finally righted herself and took in her visitor, she laughed as she realized it was Farah, her short hair standing nearly on end, grinning in excitement. "I'm back!" she announced.

And standing in the doorway behind her, looking rather nervous, was a young man. His blonde hair was cut short, his piercing blue eyes taking in the scene before him with worry and a hint of curiosity. He was wearing blue jeans and a jacket, his hands tucked firmly in his pockets. He shuffled back and forth awkwardly until Farah remembered him, waving him inside.

"Addie, I'd like you to meet Michael," Farah said, her grin growing wider. Addie held out her hand, and Michael reluctantly shook it.

"You're also one of those..." he started, and then seemed to grow flustered.

"I'm a witch," Addie said. "But I grew up with my mother, who isn't one."

Michael's brow furrowed. "How does that work?"

Farah waved it off. "I'll explain later."

And as Farah waved her hand, Addie was happy to see that a ring was back on her finger. Obviously things with Michael had worked out. She tried to peek at his left hand, but it was still tucked in his pocket.

"I'm sure you've had a lot to process," Addie said, smiling apologetically at him. She knew Farah, and also knew that the witch was typically the blunt sort, and wouldn't think of slowly introducing Michael to her word.

Michael smirked. "You could say that. I'm still getting used to the idea."

"It took my mum a little while, too," Addie said, hoping to show him that he wasn't alone. "But she came around."