poly_chromatic

Entry tags:

harry potter - fred weasley

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[ The feed turns on to flames in a patch of flowers, bright red in stark contrast to the healthy colour of the grass and roses about it, but they don't appear to be burning. Perhaps it's not a flame after all, but rather a particular head of hair - familiar to some, certainly - and then he begins to stir.

Up sits one Fred Weasley, bleary eyed and stretching with a yawn. He blinks a bit, taking in his surroundings curiously before noting the recording device and taking it with a vague sense of amusement. One more yawn and a lazy scratch of the back of his head, and then he speaks with a tired smile. ]

Not a bad place to kip, eh?

[ ooc; Fred returns to the City! He's just woken up in Xanadu, and he has no clue that he's been gone. This is completely open to 4th wall shenanigans of all sorts - only just don't tell him they're characters from a book, and anything from the age of the epilogue will be forgotten after the curse. I missed you all, and I love you. ;; ♥ ]

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[ Ginny told him - shouted at him, rather, practically accused them of plotting for it - and he still hasn't figured out what to make of it. They're used to Harry being off, Doing Great Things, but they finally had a life here, a real without Death Eaters or Voldemort or the ever constant threat of being Snatched up in the night --

But then, that last one's not quite true, is it? Fred smiles, but it's nothing happy. ]

You'd never know it from his innocent, doe-eyed demeanor, but he's quite the deviant, the little prat.

[ Not entirely true, it was all the twins' idea, but he'd laughed up a storm and only protested once out of a half-hearted attempt at decency. A twitch in his eye reminds him that was well over a month ago, where he remembers it being just a few days. He sighs and puts his arms behind his head, laying down completely because he'd very nearly prefer to just go back to sleep.

Nearly. Not quite. 'You left.' ]

No, I'd believe that.

[ She wants to curl up herself, in all honesty, but she doesn't. Can't, because that's showing weakness, and she's fought all her life not to be seen that way. Instead she sighs, standing up and going to busy herself with Waffle's cage, taking her device with her.

Really, the fact that she can't sit and have a conversation at all is telling, but she's ignoring that fact. She'd rather be seen distracting herself than giving in entirely. ]

I'd hit you, but I sort of got kicked by a horse last weekend.

C'mon, now, that's hardly fair. Just 'cause he's not as handsome as me doesn't make George a horse.

[ He grins a little - any opportunity to take the mickey out of his family's a good one - but it's short lived, and then the mind starts working. They've always been quick to make friends and their allies far outweigh their enemies (in strength if not number), but for whatever reason, it feels different with Ariadne. She's a good friend without a doubt, but they've known her little more than a few months and she's already very much a part of their family. Fred's noticed the switch before - when she went from the girl George snogged in the storeroom to confidant and kin. They trust her, which is not altogether rare or odd, but certainly not commonplace. Not this quickly and not this easily.

It's not that Fred doesn't trust her. It's that he trusts her more than he's comfortable with.

They've touched briefly on it before, glimpses and flashes of something off, but he's never asked outright out of respect for his brother. She's the first he's ever seen George fight for, and he wasn't going to chase her off by interrogating her. But the fact she's stuck with them this long says more than enough, and he can't help but be blunt about it. Gryffindor spirit takes charge, and he's just got to know. ]

How much do you know, Ariadne?

I don't think he's flexible enough to kick me in the shoulder.

[ Of course, she had been a cheetah at the time, but she has a feeling the look on Fred's face at the mention of his brother's flexibility and what she might know about it is worth leaving that bit of information out.

Well, up until he starts thinking, anyway.

How much do you know, Ariadne? Not as much as she wants to. More than she wants to. It's all one and the same with this subject, with these people and that world. She strokes the blue feathers on Waffle's chest, then shuts his cage again, retreating back to sit on her bed. ]

Percy told me when he got here that you being here wasn't possible. He also told me why -- not in detail, just that it had been a week.

[ And god, she doesn't even know if Fred knows that it's only been that long ago for his older brother. Her legs pull up, arms wrapping around her knees. ]

We got in a shouting match after that because he refused to believe you were real. I didn't talk to anyone about it after that. [ Then Fred vanished. Then she managed to coax George back from the bars. And then... ] He found out I knew the day you disappeared. [ And she'd held onto him while he sobbed. ]

[ Let's start with anger. Seems a good place to head off, right? - at least, in Fred's mind. Anger at Percy for telling her, at Ariadne for knowing, at Percy for all that 'impossible' rubbish, at himself for starting it all in the first place. For leaving again. He's unfathomably irritated, and for a brief moment, it swells up and threatens to burst - but instead, shatters into something akin to laughter and a sigh.

She'd argued with him over it. Fred had too - shouted some rather unseemly things at his poor brother - and no, he didn't know that it was only a week. From anger to pride to guilt to George, and it isn't bloody fair to have all these emotions throwing him about when he hasn't even got a heartbeat to show for it.

She knows too much, and he wants to be mad at her, but he just can't. There's too much all at once, and instead, he just looks irritated and uncomfortable. And in many ways, he is. But she knows, and she's seen it, and she's a part of it - and maybe it's about time he start trusting her. ]

Don't s'ppose they told you how it happened?

No. But I can guess.

[ She's not stupid. She has bits and pieces, more than any of them wanted to give her, more than they thought to give her. She knows there was a war, she knows they've been hurt. She knows Harry was tortured at fourteen years old and she knows George lost an ear and a twin. She knows enough to paint a picture without details, and it's not a picture she particularly likes looking at.

Enough and not enough, all at once. Sometimes she wishes she didn't have this horrible need to know, this curiosity that constantly threatens to consume her. Ginny's told her off for it a number of times. She can't help it, though, and this... this she didn't ask for.

All in all, it's a roundabout way of telling him that he doesn't have to tell her if he doesn't want to. ]

I'm glad you're back, Fred.

[ He stays quiet, still. He's glad, of course he's glad - he's particularly fond of being alive. But even without saying it out loud, Fred can still see it clear as day. The sounds of an explosion, bits of the wall flying everywhere, everything going dark. He sees it in every waking moment, every nightmare late at night, every time he looks at his siblings. He sees The End all around him, and for a month, that was that. The end.

Yet here he is.

Quietly, barely above a whisper to the point he's not even sure he said it (or why, why on earth would he--?) ]

D'you think my being here is keeping them from moving on?

[ Oh.

She swallows, eyes closing for a moment. She thinks about Cobb ("get the fuck out of my life") and the shade trapped inside his head, about how he would slip away to dream. She thinks about George drinking, about Ginny refusing to speak to anyone but texting instead, about Percy's denial.

She doesn't know the answer. She really doesn't know at all. One hand runs through her hair before she replies. ]

I think it's helping them get some closure. [ She pauses, wetting her lips for a moment. ] George told me, after you left, that he just wanted to be able to say goodbye.

[ And of course that isn't true, because people are willing to settle for less when they don't have it -- but it had been true then. It will be true if Fred leaves again. ]

And if we're being honest, I've seen worse coping mechanisms.

[ He only wanted to be able to say goodbye. A flicker of a thought - that they'd only ever been hurt while they were apart - and he closes his eyes, scrubbing at them roughly with his fingers. Fred laughs and looks up to her with eyes that are most certainly red - but it's clearly from the rubbing. Clearly. ]

Ooh, do tell me his piss-drunk brawl record. I'll settle for no less than at least three.

[ Just like your brother, Fred. He didn't want to let her see him cry, either. George had been better at hiding it -- then again, he's probably had more practice. ]

I wasn't actually talking about George's coping methods.

[ Pause. ]

And I don't know how many, because he's been going alone most of the time and it's hard to track him down. I was there for one of them, though.

[ He is not crying. He's just - tired, is all. He really could kip out here. ]

Merlin, he didn't involve you, did he?

[ Fred doesn't want to have to swat him for getting a gal into a fight. ]

[ Sure he isn't. And Ariadne isn't worried to death. ]

It was over me, actually. Some guy decided he needed to rescue me because apparently I was being bothered.

[ What she's not saying is that she was probably just as drunk at that point, because that had been the day she'd had her fight with Cobb. ]

I finished George's drink and the bartender broke it up before I could actually get involved.

[ He snorts a little. ]

Thank Merlin for that. You might've had his head off. The damsel in distress doesn't suit you, at any rate.

[ She's got skin as thick as a dragon's, to deal with all their rubbish on top of her own. ]

I'd had enough drinks that I cussed him out in French. Unfortunately, he didn't speak French.

[ There's a bit of a smile, though. No, it doesn't, and it's nice to not have to prove that. ]

Which reminds me, what's that you called me earlier? Something pleasant and heart-warming, surely.

Oh, definitely. Try it on your sister-in-law, I'm sure she'd love it.

[ She holds that face for all of 15 seconds before laughing slightly. ]

No, it's -- salaud, it means "bastard".

[ .....If he ever sees Fleur again, it is so on. ]

Oh, that's brilliant. I'll keep that in mind.

[ He smiles softly, teasing but also somewhat serious. ]

One of these days, I'll learn all your little tricks and secrets, Ariadne.

[ French everywhere. ]

You missed the lesson on what the French call French kissing the other day. That was a fun curse.

[ Her lips curl a little more. Is that so? ]

I wasn't aware foreign languages were considered tricks.

[ Bring it on. ]

I fail to see how they aren't. I'm of the firm opinion everyone ought to be speaking English. Proper English, none of that American rubbish that no one understands.

[ Oh, it's on. ]

You seem to understand me just fine.

[ bam. ]

Through great effort and a glass of firewhiskey at the end of each day.

[ suck it. ]

You'll figure it out.

[ ... pffffahahahaha ]

At some point, yes. I reckon I will.

[ /win. 8) ]

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