As Lavender Brown's body lay amongst the ruins of what was once her home, she watched a family grieve the loss of one of their own, wondering why fate had so cruelly dealt them such cards. From a young age, all she wanted was to love and be loved in...
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Fred groaned. His eyelids struggled to open, and once they succeeded, they immediately had to blink rapidly in order to focus on anything other than the blinding white light that demanded his attention. It took a moment for him to recall the events that had conspired.
As his vision became clearer, his memory started to return to him in short bursts and then all at once. Almost instinctively, he reached out his arms, scrabbling around in search for Lavender. Hot course anger pumped through his veins. How could she accept Merlin's deal so easily? They had spent so long fighting against him, or so he wrongly believed.
Wincing, Fred pressed the base of his palm against his forehead as he tried to make sense of the events that had conspired. Fingers wove into his hair, before clenching as he resisted the urge to scream. The whole situation was giving him a morbid sense of deja vu.
"Wake up."
Fred jolted. His eyes flew wide open, his heart hammering in his chest. That wasn't possible. It couldn't be. He rubbed his eyes and scrambled to his feet, his ears strained and poised to see if they would be treated a second time.
"Please, brother, wake up."
This time there was no denying it. George's voice echoed in his ears, filling him with joy and confusion all at the same time. Instead of panicking, Fred chose to close his eyes and inhale deeply. As he exhaled, he quietened the anxieties running wildly in his mind and waited for the sound again.
"I'm so sorry. I understand now." His brother whispered. Narrowing his eyes, Fred followed the sound, ignoring the way his hand started to tremble at his side. "You came to see me, I didn't really understand it. I still don't. But it's got to mean that you're still there. You're still fighting."
Fred stepped forward, his foot echoing as it hit the marble floor. He frowned and looked around. It seemed oddly familiar, but his mind couldn't place it at that point. In the far corner he spotted a red-headed figure that caused a cool sense of relief to wash through him.
His lips tugged into a smile, as he approached him. The closer he got, the tighter his stomach clenched. George was sitting beside a bed, his hand holding onto another who lay on the bed. Fred frowned, his gaze traveling towards the patient. His smile faltered.
"So please, do me a solid and wake up," George whispered in a small voice. The sound caused a lump to form in his throat as Fred took another step closer to the bed. He watched his own body lay peacefully, unaware of the emotional torture he was causing. He turned his hand around and stared at it.
Without thinking too much about it, he placed his hand on his own head, closing his eyes for good measure. Heart racing, he dared to open one, a wave of confusion rushing through him when nothing had changed.
"What the bloody hell is going on?" He voiced aloud. First Lavender abandoned him, or supposedly 'saved' him, but with all the machines and wires hooked up on him, it was clear that though he was technically alive, something had gone terribly wrong.
A scowl decorated his face, deepening when he recalled the wizard at the center of their mess. They were played. Exhaling gustily, he craned his head, searching for any wisps of dark curly hair, or brown eyes that rolled every time he came up with a crazy idea. Without Lavender, his zombie girl, he realised how eerily quiet his surroundings were.
His mouth dried. Licking his lips, he gathered the courage to call out her name, hating the way he had to hesitate beforehand just to make sure he had the emotional strength to do so.
"Lavender?" He called into the light. His heart stopped when he spotted a figure approaching him. The Healer's clinic washed away around him, but he could still sense it. He somehow knew that all it required was his attention and he would be standing above his body again. Bright white light encompassed him once again. He squinted at the stranger. "Lav, is that you?"
As she approached him, he took a step backwards and frowned. Though at first glance, the woman looked a lot like her, something about her appearance made him wary. "You're not Lavender," he stated at her.
She had the same dark hair that fell in loose curls to her waist, but she was older and her eyes proved she had gone through a lot more compared to his ghostly companion. After spending a lifetime growing up with a man who looked identical to him, he knew how to spot the difference, even if it was subtle.
"Are you the Gatekeeper?" Fred asked, his face paling. He wasn't ready to die. The whole point of her sacrifice was that he wouldn't have to die. The last thing he wanted was her final choice (no matter how idiotic) to be in vain.
The woman regarded him carefully, before nodding, a small smile playing on her lips. "My name is Morgana," she started in a low voice, one that sounded all to familiar to the one he yearned to hear. Fred raised his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes immediately afterwards as the weight of her identity dawned on him.
The Enchantress was the Gatekeeper. And yet, Lavender only saw Merlin when she summoned her. It did not make any sense.
Morgana waved a hand at him, momentarily stopping his trail of thoughts. "You have many questions, I see. Fear not, Mr. Weasley, you will not be passing through. The Vessel has been activated, but she also gave us a means to fight," she said, her gaze sharpening as she gave him a pointed look. "We have a lot of work to do."
