"DEAR, DO SIT UP, PLEASE." Dev's Nan chastised as they sat at their dining table. The lighting was dark, only lit by a small candle between them, which seemed to match the ambiance perfectly. Dev felt ultimately dark and gloomy in the large mansion.

Still, Dev followed her Nan's request and straightened her back. It never quite made sense to her, all of the rules of etiquette and formalities when it was just the two of them. Regardless, her Nan was insistent on them, so she always obliged.

"Do tell me dear, how is this year going? Are you starting to feel prepared for N.E.W.T.s?" Her nan shoveled a small bit of mashed potatoes delicately into her mouth, keeping her eyes on her granddaughter the entire time.

"Yeah, my studies are going well," Dev nodded. "The tournament has been exciting, the first task—"

"Oh, I don't want to talk about such barbaric things," Her Nan interrupted, tutting her lips as she sat down her fork. "Tell me about the ball. Did you and Mayumi enjoy it?"

Dev scrunched up her nose at her Nan's use of May's full name, something she didn't often hear. The woman was always so insistent on being formal, hating the way people would refer to her granddaughter as simply 'Dev.' It was the nickname her father had given her, but the woman never used it.

"I actually went with Harry Potter, instead of May," Devora revealed, shoving a bit more of the dinner into her mouth afterwards.

"Oh?" Her Nan perked up at the news, setting her fork aside. Dev never talked about boys with the woman, so she was certain she was excited to hear about a boy other than the Weasley Twins. "Harry Potter, as in the Harry Potter? He's quite a bit younger than you, is he not?"

"Two years," Dev nodded, wiping at the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "We just went as friends because he needed a date. I did it for Fred and George, really."

Dev's Nan tutted at the mention of the boy's names, returning her gaze to her food and beginning to eat again. Anytime the two were brought up, the woman was quick to steer clear of the subject. It wasn't really shocking to Dev, seeing as their trouble-making reputation did precede them. The first time the woman got a letter sent home about Dev being caught trying to help the boys dye what was left of Filch's greasy hair, she nearly had a stroke. Ever since, she's been quite insistent on Dev hanging out with other crowds. For that reason, Dev had expertly left out their presence at May's the upcoming weekend.

"Well, I suppose that is better than you going with one of those Weasley twins," Her Nan grumbled, almost low enough that Dev didn't hear. At her words, Dev simply rolled her eyes.

"Can I be excused?" Dev pushed her food away, a sudden urgency to escape the suffocating room overtaking her.

"But, dear, we haven't even had dessert yet?"

"I know—" Dev turned to her familiar excuse, the one that worked every time in the past. "But I have a lot of studies I need to cover over break."

"If you have so many studies, perhaps you shouldn't visit Mayumi this weekend," Her Nan raised her brows.

"No, no, May and I are in almost all of the same classes. We'll study together, we always do, I promise." Dev sputtered, fear creeping up her at the idea of not being permitted to go. A moment of silence passed as the woman eyed her granddaughter, before eventually caving in.

"Alright, you're excused." She nodded.

Dev jumped up immediately, gathering her plate and silverware and quickly washing them in the sink. She planted a kiss on the woman's cheek before tearing up the stairs to her room. As she bounded down the hall, she halted to a stop in front of the familiar door of her father's old room. If she were to open it, she'd find it in the exact order it was left the day they lost him, frozen in time. Although she reached out to grasp the doorknob, she ultimately decided against it, urging herself to just continue down the hall.

Upon entering her room, Dev immediately settled herself at her desk. She truly did have some studying she needed to keep up with, especially knowing she wouldn't actually be able to study when she was around the twins. She fell into a monotonous routine of shifting between potions notes, care of magical creatures readings, and charms notes. Still, her eye kept tugging towards the book on wandlore peaking out of her bag. In the months since May and her began their research, they had filtered through just about every book that seemed relative. Now, they were desperately reading any and everything that could relate.

Knowing she wouldn't truly be able to retain any more information on charms, she closed her textbook and reached down, retrieving the enticing book she had been eyeing. Her wand sat idly on her desk, no real use for it while she was at home and underaged to do magic. 10 ¾" Silver Lime wood with a unicorn hair core, unyielding flexibility. The same wand that had almost leapt out of its box into her hands, finding her match on the first try.

"Ah, quite curious," Garrick Ollivander eyed the wand in Dev's hand. "A very powerful wand indeed."

"Is that—" Her Nan began, gripping her shoulder tightly from behind.

"Yes," Ollivander knelt down before young Devora, letting his eyes wander between the girl and the wand in her hand, before letting them travel back up to her grandmother. "Silver Lime wood. Lost its popularity quite a few decades ago, but I'm sure you remember it at its height."

"I do indeed," She tutted. "Is what they say about silver lime true?"

"Seeing as it was my grandfather who discovered the connection, I'd venture to say; yes. It is true." Ollivander made his way back around the till counter. He reached around and retrieved the wand from Dev's outstretched hand, beginning to box it up and discuss pricing with her grandmother.

At the time, Dev didn't know what her grandmother had meant by her wands preceding reputation. In fact, the interaction had all but escaped her until this very moment. Flipping through the pages of the textbook, written by Garrick Ollivander himself, until she approached the end of its alphabetical order. Skimming a few pages, she found the section on Silver Lime wood and read through it thoroughly.

It seemed as though the wood was at the height of its popularity in the early 20th century. So much so, that wand makers had to start getting other woods and dying the coloring in order to keep up. The popularity died down as this came out, leaving it as a rare and seldom sold wood in current times.

Dev's eyes scanned the pages, searching for just what made the wand so popular. Of course, it was quite a beautiful wand. It's light white coloring and golden details were beautiful, and Dev couldn't help but feel somewhat lucky that it had seemingly chose her. As she continued to scan, her eyes fell directly on the words some part of her had expected.

"The reasons for these wands' desirability lay not only in their unusually handsome appearance, but also because they had a reputation for performing best for Seers and those skilled in Legilimency, mysterious arts both, which consequently gave the possessor of a silver lime wand considerable status."

Dev felt her mouth run dry at the words. This was the final confirmation of who she was that she needed. Slamming the book closed, she didn't bother reading into the purpose of her wand's core or flexibility. No, that was all of the information she needed.

Dev found her feet moving without her exactly willing them to do so, carrying her to her bed. She flopped down on top of it, staring straight up at her ceiling. The same ceiling that after months of convincing, she had convinced her nan to charm into resembling twinkling stars. It's what best kept her connected to May and the twins. Willing her breathing to study, she mechanically eyed the familiar constellations she had learned effortlessly.

Were the stars to blame for what she was going through? Could they be the explanation behind this gift she never asked for? Squinting her eyes, she wondered if somewhere, written among them, lay her fate. Her destiny.

She wasn't sure how long it was before she involuntarily drifted to sleep. She hadn't bothered to properly prepare for bed, falling asleep in her trousers and blouse from earlier in the day. Surely, if her Nan came in to wake her in the morning, she'd be confused. On one hand, she may be upset by Dev's lack of preparedness before bed, but on the other, she may just be happy if Dev said she had been too tired from working so hard.

Dev's dream started peacefully, something that she certainly wasn't used to. She found herself in what seemed to be a bustling store, with young children running hurriedly around her. A smile found its way to her lips as she eyed the brand on the nearest product; Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Darling!" A deep voice bellowed out. The sound was like music to Dev's ears, and suddenly the store melted away. As she spun on her heels, she came face to face with none other than Fred Weasley. It was clear he was a bit older, clad in a mustard-colored suit and sporting a much shorter haircut.

Dev didn't think twice before bounding towards the man, running willingly into his outstretched arms. He enveloped her effortlessly, lifting her feet from the ground and spinning her around. Dev had her head buried into his shoulder as her arms grip tightly around his neck. Some part of her knew this was still a dream, so she purposefully tried to commit it to memory. His scent, the feeling of his arms around her, the way their giggles made a beautiful melody.

All too soon for her liking, Fred was setting her back down and slowly pulling away. While she looked up with a love stricken grin plastered on her face, it melted quickly. No, Fred had somehow changed. Now, he was in tattered and ripped clothing. His face was covered in scratches, shrapnel jutting out of his skin. A smile was still ghosted over his lips, but his eyes were completely white.

"Why weren't you there, darling?" Fred questioned, the smile still on his lips.

"What?" Dev sputtered, stumbling back a few inches as her hand raised and clasped to her mouth. Fred followed after her, leaving her with no escape. Her eyes searched around, only just realizing that they truly were no longer in a shop. In fact, they were no where, everything was dark. She had no escape.

"I was all alone." Fred laughed. "You weren't there."

"You aren't Fred," Dev found that her voice came out no more than a whisper.

"Of course I am," The iris-less Fred cocked his head to the side, inching even closer. "What is it, Bee? We did everything to keep you safe. We all died, because of you."

Suddenly, more bodies appeared behind the faux Fred with a pop. Dev's eyes trailed over the sight of her mother and father, hand-in-hand, dawning the same sinister smile as Fred with whited-out eyes. Then, many, many more people filtered through her vision. Some Dev recognized, others she didn't. They all began closing in on her, and Dev felt the air constrict in her throat. Fred, or this demonic version of him, was the first to reach her.

Slowly, he reached out a hand, using it to cup her cheek. Dev whimpered, flinching at the contact and attempting to move from his touch. Her actions only seemed to anger the man, and quickly his hand was trailing down to her throat. All air that was left in her seemed to fade away, as the hand of the man she loved tightened threateningly.

"Devora!"

Dev was jostled awake at the sound of her name. She found herself already sitting upright, coated in a layer of sweat. No part of her was able to take in reality, still so focused on whatever it had been that was plaguing her dreams. Had that been a vision? Certainly not.

No. No. No.

She had to convince herself that there was no real meaning behind that nightmare. It wasn't a vision. A room of people could not be dead at her hands, certainly not Fred. That was simply a nightmare, the kind all people have. That was her worst fears, bubbling up inside of her and spilling over from stress. It had to be.

"Dear, please, look at me."

Dev forced her eyes to flit up at the woman gently holding her face. The woman staring at her with so much concern, so much worry, and so much love. Her Nan tentatively raised one of her hands and brushed back a slick piece of sweat stroked hair from Dev's forehead, before leaning forward and placing a light kiss against her temple. The two had never been ones to show physical compassion outside of fleeting hugs goodbye or quick pecks on the cheek, but still Dev found herself needing that human comfort. She lurched forward, wrapping her arms around the frail older woman and letting out a sob.

Some time passed as her Nan carefully raked her fingers through Dev's long locks of brown hair. The woman hummed a familiar tune, one Dev would recognize anywhere. It was the sound her father had hummed so many times before. All summer, Dev had been plagued with nightmares, but never so bad that they woke the woman on the other side of the house. This was new for the both of them. Once Dev's quiet cries had subsided significantly, the woman pulled back slowly and searched her face.

"You know, your father always had nightmares too, from the time he was just a little boy," The woman revealed softly. "You're like him in so many ways."

"Yeah?" Dev snorted, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Everyone who meets me tells me I'm just like you."

"And is that such a bad thing?" Dev's Nan teased, a smile ghosting over her features. "He was my son after all, and you are my granddaughter. I see bits of both of us in you, bits of your mum, too."

"I never even knew her." Dev croaked, the mere mention of her mother sending a pain straight to her gut.

"She was stubborn as hell—" The woman paused as Dev's eyebrows shot up, never having heard a curse word slip from the woman's lips so naturally. "There was no way she'd have a daughter without ensuring some part of her was passed on. You got her beauty, her bravery, and merlin, did you get her stubbornness."

"I'm not brave, I'm probably the biggest coward I know." Dev sniffled. "It's why I'm not a Gryffindor."

"You're not a Gryffindor, dear," The woman paused to wipe away a stray tear. "Because you see the value of intelligence, of learning, of preparation over blind bravery. You're not a Hufflepuff, like your father, even though you embody so many of the values of their house. Because you value Ravenclaw more, and there's nothing wrong with that. That silly old sorting hat doesn't determine who you are, and that doesn't mean you can't be a little of all of the houses."

Dev nodded slowly, her nightmare suddenly on the back of her mind as she thought of her parents. Looking up at the glistening sky that was her bedroom ceiling, she liked to imagine that they lay somewhere above her. That they were together, and they were as happy as everyone told her they were when they were together. Most of all, she hoped they were proud of her.

"They might not be around," Her Nan seemed to read her mind. "But I am. And I'm proud of you. I'm proud of your work ethic, of the way you always strive to learn more about things you love. Of your kindness. I know I can be hard on you..."

The woman trailed off, looking ashamedly to her right. Dev wondered if the woman thought all of her struggles were her doing, and suddenly was plunged into guilt. While things weren't always easy around her Nan, she was her family. And she loved her.

"I'm sure they're proud of you, too." Dev spoke softly.

It looked as though tears were beginning to form in her Nan's eyes. It wasn't often the two spoke of their losses loved ones, but they were the only ones who truly understood the pain. Her Nan's hand trailed down and found Dev's, giving it a light squeeze as she offered her a grateful smile.

"It's late dear, why don't you come sleep in my room, like you did when you were little?"

Dev was reminded of many sleepless nights after her father's passing where she'd wordlessly crawl into her grandmother's bed. They had stopped when she had turned 11 and spent most of her year at Hogwarts. Although she felt a bit silly, being 16 years old now, she agreed with a small nod of her head. Clambering off of the bed, the women made their way across the house before settling in the master bedroom and getting comfortable in the spacious bed.

"I love you, Dev. I hope you know that."

It was the first time the woman had used Devora's father's nickname for her, and for the first time in years, Dev was overly filled with warmth in the Bane manor.

author's note !

hi!

I know I was updating quite frequently and it hasn't exactly been a long time, but still longer than before. Just got busy and behind on pre-writing. I really struggled with this chapter, because it's one without any interactions with Devora and her friends. I also wanted to portray that while Dev's Nan is strict, she isn't a cold monster, and I wanted to really get that point across.

Anyways! Despite the lack of real Freddie content, I hope you all enjoy! The comments y'all give me make me so happy, and I'm really excited for what's to come. See you soon!

rose <3