THIRTY-THREE

HOME ISN'T WHERE YOU'RE FROM,
IT'S WHERE YOU FIND LIGHT
WHEN ALL GROWS DARK
PIERCE BROWN, GOLDEN SON

THAT EVENING, the twins and the Andrews sisters went home. It had taken some hard work to convince Molly to let them go, but there was still plenty of life to live even with impending danger hovering before them at all times. Even with the trauma of the wedding still sinking in, the twins were beyond focused on the success of the joke shop, and had insisted that they go back to work the following day. Aspen was in awe of their work ethic, although she did suspect that for George, part of his enthusiasm lay with the opportunity of seeing Verity again.

The next month passed uncomfortably. They worked, and Alessia spent most of her days at the Burrow, avoiding the flat as if it housed a plague she wished not to catch. Aspen worried all the time, and coming home with no sign of her little sister was a constant fear that lead to unbearable panic. Still, by the time the thirty-first of August had rolled around, she'd convinced Alessia it was a necessity she stay put for once, and thankfully, Aspen watched her disappear into her bedroom that evening in search of sleep.

Aspen couldn't remember the last night she hadn't slept by Fred's side. Normally, they alternated between apartments, staying at the Andrews' if Alessia was home, and at the twins' if not. Yet, Fred had failed to arrive that evening, having sent an owl explaining he was still working with George at gone twelve o'clock. Sighing with resignation, Aspen had ventured off to bed, hiding beneath her covers restlessly.

She stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours. Alessia would be going back to Hogwarts tomorrow, and if she felt hopeless now, the rest of the year would be an entirely different story. Aspen was mindlessly spiralling out of control, and her sister's rebellion only seemed to be growing as she considered a new term at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore was dead, and she'd already heard that Snape had been appointed in his place. The thought alone made her sick to her stomach, and she twisted onto her side, feeling the nausea rise in her throat like a breaking dam, the mattress groaning under her weight. Normally, Fred would wrap her closer, easing her out of her apprehension and into the gentle confines of sleep. Alone, she was more restless than ever.

When her alarm clock glaringly flashed two a.m, Aspen forced herself up, swinging her legs over the mattress and letting her toes brush against the fluffy rug. Trying to be quiet, she trudged slowly towards the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of milk just like their mother used to when they couldn't sleep as little kids.

Their mother. It brought her painfully back to the argument that had taken place only a month ago. How had so much time passed with the tension still lingering? Aspen knew there were things she'd said she wished she hadn't, and they had both tiptoed around it, avoiding apologies and forgiveness like a bad smell.

She exited the kitchen and eyed Alessia's bedroom door from her space the living room. There was no light shining from beneath the door, but after a moment's heavy silence, she swore she had had heard the creak of movement atop of the bed frames and a thick sigh that penetrated the air like a bullet.

Aspen sipped on her drink thoughtfully. Both sisters had an early rise the following morning, but the weight of guilt sat upon them like a king upon his throne, anchored securely until overthrown. Once she'd drained the glass, leaving its usual pale white dregs behind, she placed it on the table carefully. She crossed the room, padding lightly across the shadow-brushed floor until she reached the bedroom door.

She considered knocking, but eventually, decided to simply rip off the bandaid instead. She pushed the door open ever so slightly, just enough to let a thin crack of dappled light invade from the living room's window, which was illuminated by the outside streetlights.

"Alessia?" she called out hoarsely, her voice barely reaching a whisper.

"What d'you want?" she replied, and Aspen heard a rustling of bedsheets as she presumably sat up.

Aspen took that as encouragement enough to enter. She closed the door behind her, pressing her spine to it and feeling the cool wood against the backs of her thighs. Through the dull gloom, she could barely make out the messy hair and spotted pyjamas that made up her little sister.

"Can I come in?" Aspen asked half-heartedly, already expecting her usual reply as of late: "piss off."

Instead, she was delightedly surprised by one simple action. Alessia had peeled back the covers, shuffling back against the wall to make space for her older sister. Aspen darted across the room, settling down in the bed and huddling closer to her sister, her small frame nestling closer for a hug.

"I'm so sorry," Aspen said after a brief interlude. "For what I said the other night. I—"

"I'm sorry too. Let's forget about it," Alessia interjected, and Aspen could feel those big doe eyes peering up at her through the darkness. "There's no point fighting now that the world's like... this."

Aspen let out a fatigued chuckle in response. In all honesty, she thought there was no better way to describe their current climate.

"I've missed you," Aspen said truthfully, ducking to press a fond kiss to Alessia's forehead. "I'm going to miss you, Al."

"I'll miss you too. Even if all you do is nag me lately," Alessia teased, nudging her sister's side before resting her head comfortably against her chest.

"I do not! Besides, if I nag you, you must deserve it," Aspen said, and the pair giggled together until there was nothing left but silence. After a few moments, Aspen spoke again, "Are you not scared, Al?"

"Scared of what?" Alessia asked, and her question hung there by itself for a few moments as Aspen contemplated her response.

"Scared of everything. Fighting, punishment... death? It's all so possible now, don't you think?" Aspen said, gnawing at her bottom lip until she tasted the familiar, tangy flavour of blood.

"Of course it is. Always has been though, hasn't it? For the past few years, anyways," Alessia confirmed, and Aspen swallowed thickly at the realisation that her sister was much less naïve than she seemed.

Aspen found herself tugging her sister closer beneath the scarlet sheets. Her eyes now adjusted to the dark, she focused in on the striking movements of The Bent-Winged Snitches, who were jamming out within the poster that hung proudly above them. For a moment, she lost herself in juvenile thought, thinking about songs she liked and how she and Tonks used to dance to them in her dorm-room so many years ago. It felt like forever had passed since then.

"You know I think you're a fantastic witch, Al," Aspen said slowly, thinking more carefully about her words this time. "I trust your judgement and your skill completely. But I just want you to be careful in my absence, okay? Don't dive headfirst into everything like you usually do."

"What do you mean?" Alessia asked, and if Aspen wasn't careful, she knew another argument could brew quickly.

"I just mean you don't always have to be the hero, okay? It's a team effort, all of this," Aspen said, squeezing her sister's shoulder affectionately. "I just want you to think a little more before you leap into your crazy plans and schemes, okay?"

Alessia released a rather defeated sigh of resignation, but it was resignation all the same. Just barely, she felt the familiar movement of a nod against her chest. Comforted that her sister might finally have slowed down on her position as ultimate defending warrior, Aspen relaxed into the pillow considerably.

"We've got to get up early tomorrow. King's Cross," Aspen reminded her sister, who was obviously all too aware but said nothing of the condescension.

"Yeah," Alessia agreed, stifling a yawn as she began to succumb to slumber. "If we're up early enough, can we make pancakes? Like we used to?"

"Of course," Aspen said softly, but she knew there was fat chance of that happening — neither of the Andrews sisters were morning people, nor would they ever be.

"I love you, Pen," Alessia hummed softly as she nuzzled her face against her sister's shoulder, settling down into comfort.

"I love you too, Al," Aspen replied contentedly, the first genuine smile all week settling on her face.

They lay there together, chests heaving up and down until eventually, Alessia's levelled out cleanly and she began to snore softly, as innocently as a child. Aspen found that she didn't mind — it was a welcome reminder that for now, her sister was right by her side, and she had nothing to worry about. That night, she slept like a baby, blissfully unaware of any danger the upcoming year would bring.

SURPRISINGLY, ASPEN awoke with the sun and realised her sister was already awake herself, staring up at the ceiling. She'd had no intention of living up to the pancake promise, but they were both startlingly conscious given they'd only managed three or four hours of proper sleep.

"Breakfast, then?" Aspen asked, bypassing a proper good morning with the promise of food.

"Oh yeah!" Alessia grinned, jolting bolt upright in the bed at the very reminder of their traditional breakfast.

As she clambered over Aspen, digging her knees into her older sister's thighs mid-climb, Aspen couldn't only help but laugh through the momentary pain. Alessia had skidded across the hardwood floor, tripping on the rug in her alarmingly pink pyjamas before hurrying out of the door towards the kitchen. This felt right — miraculously, things seemed to have turned to normal overnight.

Aspen followed her to the kitchen, albeit far more calmly. Upon arrival, she could see Alessia had attempted to start without her, and there was somehow already flour scattered across the counter in disruptive white dredges. She didn't question it, and instead joined the search for a frying pan, something they didn't use all too often — they were rarely up in time for cooked breakfasts, anyway.

"Shall I put some music on?" Alessia asked as Aspen grabbed a mixing bowl and started to sort through their ingredients — she was partly surprised to see they even had everything necessary in the cupboards at all.

"Yeah," Aspen said with a bright grin, averting her gaze from the task at hand for just a second. "I reckon I've got that Billy Joel album we used to like to somewhere. The one we listened to lots with mum?"

Alessia disappeared to the living room, and Aspen could hear her vague movements as she rustled around in the pile of vinyls that they kept beside the record player. Then, there was the familiar scratching of the needle against the vinyl, and as Alessia appeared back in the kitchen, she heard the familiar opening notes of The Stranger.

"Movin' Out!" Alessia grinned, racing over to help crack eggs into the mixing bowl — it had always been her favourite part. "This is one of my favourites."

"Do you remember dancing to this with mum?" Aspen asked, and as joy invaded her features, she abandoned their task to grab onto her sisters hands. "Like this?"

The two girls giggled loudly as they began to shimmy back and forth, chiming in alongside the tune — "workin' too hard can give you a heart attack ack-ack-ack-ack-ack!" In their pyjamas, they must've looked very silly, and Aspen grinned at the sight of Alessia's dark curls mingling with streaks of flour. How she had managed to get so messy so quickly was beyond her, but in that moment, it was trivial. This was a memory she wanted to save forever, locked in her mind's little treasure box like a precious jewel. She refused to taint it with the slightest of negativities.

"What the hell's going on here?" a voice from the doorway called, and Aspen laughed loudly as she turned towards it. It was Fred stood there, the picture of amused confusion as he cradled a box of Sugarplum's chocolates in his hands.

"We're dancing!" Aspen exclaimed, twirling on the spot with the help of her fluffy socks upon the tiles. "You should try it sometime!"

Alessia seemed to have taken that as gospel, and abandoned Aspen's embrace to race across the small kitchen and pull Fred into the chaos. His chocolates were quickly deserted onto the table, and he laughed loudly along with them as Alessia made him perform a dance move very similar to a nineteen-sixties-esque twist.

"It's barely seven a.m, you lunatics!" he called over the loud music, but the fatigue seemed to have evaded him the more he indulged in the dancing.

Aspen turned back to the pancakes for a moment, the feeling of her heart swelling at the sight of the pair dancing becoming so overwhelming she thought she might explode. As she whisked their ingredients together, Fred and Alessia seemed to disappear into the living room in search of more space. She swore she heard him yelling over his shoulder, "wait til you see this one, Al! I've got you beat!"

This was Aspen's little slice of heaven. She'd never understand how life could be so topsy-turvy, an immaculately designed rollercoaster of emotion. One second, she was at the very bottom, nails bitten to shreds with nerves, and the next she was soaring to the top of the world, grinning until her cheeks ached with agonising joy. Still, she'd never complain over something as beautiful as life at its finest, even if she knew it was likely the happiest she'd be for a long with the way things were going.

She was desperate to join in on the fun, but always playing the maternal figure to her two juvenile children, she restrained herself and made quick work of flipping pancakes effortlessly in the kitchen. By the time she was finished, Only the Good Die Young had just reached completion, and the pair of eager dancers were slick with perspiration after all their enthusiastic dancing and giggling.

"Worked up an appetite, you two?" Aspen asked as she plated up three servings of pancakes, dishing them out onto the table.

"You wouldn't believe it," Alessia said, and as if she'd scripted it, a loud rumble erupted from her stomach that had them all laughing again.

There was an hiatus to their hilarity as they all tucked in, slathering their pancakes in syrup — or in Fred's case, chocolate spread. After a few delighted mouthfuls, Fred swallowed thickly and interjected over the sound of She's Always a Woman.

"I'm sorry for intruding on your girly morning, by the way," he said, smiling sheepishly at them as he reached across the table and retrieved the chocolates. "I brought these for you."

He nudged them across the table towards Alessia. Her eyes were sparkling with endearment and hunger, and she grinned up at Fred in disbelief. Aspen felt her lip trembling, and she blinked away the tears that threatened to slip past her eyes. If she hadn't been sure already, this was a blindingly clear reminder that Fred Weasley was the love of her bloody life.

"Oh, Fred," Alessia said, letting the glee settle on her lips. "You didn't need to!"

"I know, but I wanted to," he said, stabbing another corner of his pancake onto his fork. "Besides, I got some for Gin too. Have to be nice to both my sisters now, don't I?"

He shot Alessia a cheeky wink which served only to increase the grin on her face, if that were even possible. Aspen excused herself from the table to make a cup of coffee, but really she just needed a moment to pull herself together. This was her two favourite people in the world confirming what she'd always known — this was family at its finest.

They ate breakfast together to the sounds of Billy Joel, and when that album finished, she flicked her wand and summoned her favourite Fleetwood Mac album, Tango in the Night, onto the player. Fred had never heard any of their songs, but he listened in wonderment, more than accepting of the change from their usual Wizard Wrock.

At half eight, Alessia realised all too quickly that she'd not even finished packing the rest of her textbooks the night before, and darted off towards her room. Fred and Aspen watched her go, and once her door was slammed definitively behind her, Aspen crossed the room and deposited herself in his lap.

"Do you intend to impress me with everything you do or are you just a natural, Fred Weasley?" she asked with a sly smirk, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck to steady herself in his lap.

"Hey! I've got to secure my place within the family, haven't I?" he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hands settled comfortably on her hips, gifting her an overeager squeeze. "Might as well call me Fred Andrews at this rate, eh?"

She laughed, tipping her head back at his stupid comment. He took the opportunity to press an tender kiss to the base of her neck, but she quickly combatted his affections with her own kiss directly to his lips. He indulged her, and they kissed fervently for several minutes, his hands brushing across her body the way only he knew how — it was as if he'd studied a map, because he knew every inch of her better than anyone else. They were interrupted only when Alessia called out, asking if Aspen had seen her copy of Advanced Rune Translation.

Aspen leapt from Fred's lap, sauntering away in her pyjamas as she scanned the living room for the textbook. After all, she and Fred had forever to indulge in each other. She only had Alessia for the next few hours, and bittersweet as that idea was, Aspen was more than willing to make the most of it. Kissing could wait.