GEORGE:

The third D.A. meeting took place the night before Halloween. Lucy and Harry thought it would be fun to work on the Melofors Jinx, which trapped the victim's head in a pumpkin. Laughter filled the air as people smashed the pumpkins on their heads with various blasting spells, and Lucy and Harry darted around the room vanishing the pumpkin remains before someone could slip and crack their actual heads open rather than just their pumpkin helmets. Fred managed to hit Lucy with a Melofors Jinx once, as she darted past us. Her reaction was hilarious — she popped it off, chucked it as hard as she could at Fred, and hit the flying pumpkin with a Reductor Curse at the last second so orange goo splattered all over him.

That was great enough, but to make matters even better, Harry saw the whole thing. Lucy turned to him with a proud smile.

"Stop getting ahead of the curriculum, Lu, the Reductor Curse is for the next meeting," he said with a disapproving shake of his head. He was obviously trying not to laugh and nearly exploding in the process; his shoulders were shaking and the corners of his mouth were twitching.

Lucy obviously knew this, but she was far better at hiding her amusement. "Watch yourself, Potter, or you'll find yourself with a pumpkin for a head before you can say 'Happy Halloween.'"

"Allow me," I said, and with a flick of my wand, Harry's head disappeared inside a massive pumpkin. So massive, in fact, he started to topple from the weight of it.

Lucy laughed louder and louder the more he struggled to blast the pumpkin off. Fred's repeated whisper of "Fianto duri" after Harry's every attempt explained the unnatural resistance of the pumpkin to being blasted to pieces. Once he was in legitimate danger of falling over, though, Lucy — still cracking up — rushed to the rescue. She propped Harry up and wrestled the pumpkin off his head and tossed it our way, this time sending the orange splatter over me as well.

As soon as Harry was on his feet, my vision went black, and my surroundings smelled very strongly of pumpkin. I didn't even bother trying to blast it off, instead lunging in the direction of Fred. I successfully knocked us both to the ground, and our pumpkin helmets smashed against the floor, leaving us unharmed.

When I glanced up again, Lucy and Harry were still laughing. Really laughing. I hadn't even realized how long it had been since I had seen either one genuinely smiling, let alone laughing, let alone cracking up the way they were. Harry was still half-leaning against Lucy, who was doubled over with laughter. And the best part was that it wasn't even that funny. It was just fun. I think, for a moment, we all felt like kids again.

The rest of Dumbledore's Army seemed equally amused by our shenanigans, and once they stopped laughing, Lucy and Harry decided it was a good place to stop for the night.

Lucy was still giggling a bit as she rounded everyone up and motioned for us to sit in the cushions in the middle of the room. "Well, I think we can consider tonight a smashing success, don't you think?"

Her pun was met with both laughter and applause. A couple of people started firing questions her way — the loudest was Zacharias Smith asking if this was one of the spells she used back in August — but Harry held up his hands to silence everyone.

"Sorry, everyone, we can talk in a minute, but first, Hermione has an announcement."

Hermione immediately jumped up and started passing a basket around. She joined Harry and Lucy at the front of the room and held up a Galleon.

"You see the numerals around the edge of the coins? On real Galleons that's just a serial number referring to the goblin who cast the coin. On these fake coins, though, the numbers will change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you're carrying them in a pocket you'll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Lucy and Harry set the date of the next meeting, Lucy will change the numbers on her coin, and because I've put a Protean Charm on them, they'll all change to mimic hers." When no one spoke, she looked to Lucy in a panic for a second and shifted uncomfortably as she looked back at the group. "Well, we, er, I thought it was a good idea. I mean, even if Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there's nothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is there? But, well, if you don't want to use them—"

"Hermione Granger, you can do a Protean Charm?" Isabella, a seventh-year Hufflepuff, asked incredulously.

Hermione nodded.

"But that's... that's N.E.W.T. standard, that is," one of the fifth-year Ravenclaws said, looking as stunned as the rest of us felt.

"Oh. Oh, well, yes, I suppose it is."

"How come you're not in Ravenclaw, with brains like yours?"

"Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw during my Sorting, but it decided on Gryffindor in the end. So does that mean we're using the Galleons?"

"No, of course not. Yes, obviously, they're brilliant," Fred scoffed, reaching in for a D.A. Galleon of his own.

Once everyone had gotten a Galleon, Harry and Lucy dragged a couple of cushions over to a corner of the room and started talking in low voices, Lucy scribbling notes on a piece of parchment as Harry counted something off on his fingers. After the first group of three had left the room, Fred jumped up and clapped his hands together.

"Hey, those of you that are still here, I have a game proposal for you!"

Lucy's head immediately shot up, but I gestured to her not to worry and to go back to whatever she was doing.

She gnawed on her lower lip, looking at Fred briefly before glancing back at me and nodding.

I grinned. She trusts me. Cool. Good to know. I jumped up after Fred and twirled my wand around my fingers. "It's quite simple, really, with only one rule: If you get disarmed, you're part of the next group to leave. Any questions?"

"We need a second rule!" Hermione piped up. "You can only use the Disarming Charm! The last thing we need is a very-preventable injury!"

"Fine by me, even if that does make it less fun," Fred said with a shrug. "Any other questions?"

When there were none, the game began. There were three groups of people: those who immediately sprinted to take shelter behind bookshelves, those who immediately and loudly tried to disarm the person who was nearest, and those who tried to be sneaky about who they were disarming by either attempting a nonverbal spell or aiming for someone who was looking elsewhere.

It was quite the effective elimination strategy. Groups of three or four people left every couple of minutes, and before long, it was down to Hermione, Ginny, Henry, Fred, and myself. Ginny managed to disarm me by sneaking up behind me, but before I could be properly offended, she had disarmed Fred and Hermione, too.

Henry's eyes widened when he realized what had happened. He held up his hands. "I surrender, youngest Weasley."

But even as the words left his mouth, Ginny's wand flew from her hand directly into Henry's.

"How did you do that?" Ginny squawked, looking more impressed than indignant.

Henry grinned and tossed her wand back. "I've been practicing."

"Well, so have I, but I can't cast a nonverbal spell yet, let alone while talking," she said.

"Yeah, mate, that's bloody impressive," I managed, awestruck as well.

He flushed and shrugged. "I've been practicing," he said again.

Ginny whirled on her heel. "LUCY, HARRY, DID YOU SEE THAT?" With that, she and Hermione hurried over to where the other two were still talking with Ron, who hadn't wanted to head up to the common room alone after also being disarmed by Ginny.

Fred made his way over to me and clapped me on the shoulder. "I lasted longer than you did."

"That's what she said."

"Oh, shove off," Fred chuckled. "I meant against Ginny, you prick."

"Yeah, well, we were both blindsided tonight. Our little sister is giving us a run for our money."

"We've done well training her, haven't we?"

"Apparently." I glanced over Fred's shoulder just as Henry turned and headed toward the bulletin board. A number of pictures of Cedric had been added to it, from Colin Creevey's collection as well as various pictures of him his fellow Hufflepuffs had taken over the years.

Fred followed my gaze and winced. "Poor bloke. I can talk to him tonight, since you were the one who followed him out of Herbology the other day when he seemed upset."

"I got it," I said quickly, shaking my head. "I'll meet you in the common room in a bit."

"Alright." Fred grabbed my shoulder again as he headed over to the others. "Oi, ickle firsties, isn't it bedtime?"

"Oh, shut up," Ron groaned. "I could give you detention for that, you know."

As their banter continued, I headed over to Henry.

I crossed my arms and bumped my shoulder lightly against his. "You alright?"

He nodded, not glancing my way or saying anything else. His eyes were locked on a picture that was more or less tucked under a couple others. The angle of the photo was terrible, as if it had been taken from the ground, but I could see the scene well enough regardless. Cedric, looking more drunk than I would have imagined physically possible for him, was gesturing toward Henry with wide, desperate eyes, but Henry, much more sober, was turning away from him and saying words I couldn't quite decipher just from reading his lips. Something about the look on Henry's face, both in the picture and in reality beside me, gave me pause. Although he was happy in the picture and sad in reality, there was a tenderness in both Henrys that spoke volumes though he didn't say a word.

"Who took the picture?" I asked.

"Not sure," he admitted, his voice tight and quiet. "Martin found it in his trunk a couple days ago. We think maybe his camera was on the ground and he stepped on it."

"That would explain the atrocious angle," I said in my best attempt at humor. "I was beginning to wonder if one of you had a cat that had dreams of being a photographer."

He snorted. "Not exactly." He crossed his arms and rocked back and forth on his feet a couple of times before stilling. "The picture doesn't tell the whole story, though. Cedric's favorite song came on, so in the picture, what you see is me offering to go get Cho. But, drunk as he was, he insisted I dance with him."

"I'd love to see a picture of that. Look at him, he's absolutely sozzled!"

"He was such a lightweight," Henry chuckled. "That's only after four bottles of butterbeer."

"Four? Without any firewhisky?"

"Without a single drop of firewhisky. He never had more than one bottle of butterbeer at parties, wanting to be responsible and all that, but if it was just the five of us in the dorm, we could convince him it was fine from time to time. This was a couple of days before the last task."

"Fair enough." I examined the photo closer. "Is that a Golden Snitch flying around?"

"Yeah, it is. The reflexes he had, even while, as you said, 'absolutely sozzled' were very impressive."

I nodded, feeling a sense of loss more profound than I had felt since June. Perhaps more profound than I had ever felt before. I often wished I had gotten to know Cedric better. If I had known his life would be cut so short, I definitely would have done more. I would have pranked him a couple more times, called his name in the halls a couple more times, asked him to be my valentine as a joke a couple more times (whether it was February or not), convinced him to come to the Gryffindor Quidditch parties a couple more times, passed him a note in class a couple more times. I would have gotten to know him, because the more I learned about him after he was gone, the more I realized he was worth knowing.

Henry glanced over his shoulder, and I realized for the first time that we were now alone. Before I could say anything, though — make some witty remark, ask if he had plans for the rest of his Monday night — he had turned back around and started rocking back and forth on his feet, this time not coming to a standstill. "What would you say if I told you I loved him?"

"Who, Cedric?" I asked, like an idiot.

Henry, to his credit, didn't laugh at me. "Y-Yeah, Cedric," he replied nervously, staring down at his toes as he kept rocking.

"Everyone loved Cedric. Anyone who didn't is either lying to themselves or utterly delusional or both. Probably both."

"Er, what if I told you I... I fancied him?"

I internally groaned. Nice one, Weasley, you just made this even harder for the poor bloke. "Oh. Right. Sorry. I would say I can't blame you, I reckon everyone fancied Cedric at least a little bit. Except Lucy, of course, and the professors, obviously."

Henry snorted. "Right."

I nodded, trying to recover from my initial blunder. "But, you know, all of the other students our age and younger definitely fancied him." Realizing I still sounded like an utter buffoon, I switched strategies. "If you're asking if I think you're morally corrupt or anything like that, I don't. I reckon I might have fancied him too, if I had, er, gotten the chance to know him the way you did. Do. Er, yeah, do."

"'Did' is alright," he said in a voice so small, so defeated, I felt a pinch in the pit of my stomach. He was silent for a moment. "Well... thanks for not thinking I'm... what did you say? Morally corrupt?"

"Yeah, morally corrupt. I don't think that. Why would I?"

He shrugged. "You never know. You are the first person I've told, after all." Before I could comment on this, he sighed and stopped rocking back and forth, lifting his eyes back to the picture. "I think Lucy already knows, or at least suspects."

"She certainly understands," I replied. "Being in love with her best friend and all."

"Yeah, right." Henry laughed weakly. "Poor girl. She seems to be doing just fine leading this with him, though."

I nodded. I took a step closer to study a different photograph, taken in some sort of tent. Cedric was half-slathered in something orange and grinning as Cho pressed a kiss to his non-orange cheek and Henry patted his non-orange shoulder. Lucy was clinging to his non-orange hand and talking to Harry, who was being tended by Madam Pomfrey as Ron and Hermione hovered. I pursed my lips. "Is this from after the first task?"

"Yeah, it is. Speaking of nights Cedric let us convince him to get drunk..." Henry laughed again, more fully this time. "He pretended to be tired so he could leave the party early while Paul snuck to the kitchens to get firewhisky. He wanted to get as sloshed as possible as fast as possible and forget the whole task ever happened. He was terrified of fire."

"I got plenty sloshed that night, too, but that's generally how Gryffindor parties go," I remarked. "Fred gets more sloshed than I do, though. I'm clearly the more responsible twin."

"Clearly." Henry rubbed the back of his neck and turned to look at me. I stood a bit taller than him, but not much. His brown eyes were warm, and not that sad anymore. "Thanks for sticking around for me, George."

"Don't mention it. I'm just trying to avoid that Charms essay, you were the perfect excuse."

His eyes widened and he swore. "The Charms essay! I forgot!" He immediately started walking toward the door as fast as his short(er than mine) legs could carry him.

I caught up to him in a couple of strides and spun so I was walking backwards. "Perfect Prefect Henry Furls, reminded of an essay by Prankster Extraordinaire George Weasley? Alert the Prophet, the world has surely turned upside down!"

"I was remembering," he muttered through a sheepish smile. "I was just, er, saving it for an opportune moment. George, look out!"

Before I could register what he had said, my heel struck something solid and heavy, and I was flat on my back. Fortunately, though, I landed on a cushion.

"Sorry!" he yelped, blushing as he rushed forward and pulled me to my feet. "It just showed up as soon as I said 'opportune moment!'"

I laughed and turned around to see what had tripped me. It was a table, with a chair, a piece of parchment, a quill, an inkwell, and a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7 by Miranda Goshawk.

Henry grew incredibly red in the face. "I never realized it was possible to be too helpful, but I think this room is exactly that."

I was still laughing as I clapped him on the back. "Looks like this is the opportune moment you were waiting for, Furls!"

"Shove off, Weasley," he said, a small smile on his very-red face nonetheless. "I wonder why there aren't two of each, though, you have the essay too, you were the one who mentioned it."

"I, unlike Perfect Prefect Henry Furls, wasn't planning on writing the essay. I could keep you company, though, if you want."

He shook his head. "It's alright, I work best in the common room, but thanks." He looked around the room. "Er, thanks anyway, though."

"Are you talking to a room?" I asked with a laugh.

"Well clearly it listens!" he protested though he was laughing too.

We stepped out into the hallway and walked together for a bit longer, still chuckling even as we parted ways. When I got up to the common room, Fred was still there, as were Lucy and Harry.

"Is Henry okay?" Lucy asked immediately.

I nodded. "Yeah, he's okay, we were just talking a bit."

She relaxed a bit. "Okay. Good. I'm glad." But she still looked concerned as she returned her attention to the book in between her and Harry on the table, so I dropped into the chair across from her and tried to distract her from the worry.

"Did you know your brother was a lightweight when it came to alcohol?" I asked.

Lucy glanced up. "Cedric drank alcohol?"

Fred laughed loudly. "I think that's a definitive 'no.'"

"I only ever saw him drink butterbeer, and never more than a bottle at a time," she said. "How did you know that?"

"Henry mentioned it," I replied. "Apparently Cedric was sloshed after four bottles."

"I can have five and only be a little tipsy," Fred commented, rising from his spot on the couch to join our little circle around the table. "I'd hate to have seen him after some firewhisky."

"It's strong," Lucy said with a nod as she turned back to the book.

"Hold on, how do you know that?" I asked as I narrowed my eyes at her. Fred and Harry turned to look at her too.

She froze and glanced up. "Er... I've tried it. Someone spiked the butterbeer at a Quidditch party a couple years back, remember? The same night Ron and Malfoy beat each other up?"

"Yeah, and you got in the cross-fire, in case you've forgotten," Harry added with a shake of his head. "Stupid self-sacrificing Gryffindor."

"Wrong place, wrong time, nothing more," she muttered, swatting Harry upside the head and dragging the book closer to herself.

"But that was just one time," Fred pressed. "You sounded like you had more experience than just that."

Lucy ignored him and pointed at something in the book, her eyes going wide. "Harry, this wasn't in Cedric's journal, but I think it might be helpful."

Harry scanned the definition, his eyes going wide as well. "I-I don't think that's a good idea, Lu."

"Have either of you ever heard of this spell?" she asked, spinning the book around and pushing it toward our end of the table. "Verdimillious?"

Fred and I shook our heads in unison, reading the words to which she was pointing.

"'Produces a jet of green sparks that can be used in dueling, or to reveal things hidden by Dark magic,'" I read aloud. "What's wrong with it, Harry?"

"Green sparks," he said softly, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"I know," Lucy said in the same soft voice as she turned to face him, "but it could be a good scare tactic, couldn't it? If we're ever in combat and we need to catch a Death Eater off guard? They'd see the green and do anything to dodge it. That second part is important too, if they have a hidden Dark weapon under their cloaks or something."

"I've seen enough green to last a lifetime, sorry."

Lucy's eyes didn't waver as she studied him. Harry didn't look up from the table.

"Not all green is evil, Harry," Lucy said after a moment.

"A lot of it is evil."

"And we could try to change that idea, make it more nuanced."

"What if it's not supposed to be nuanced?"

"What if it already is?"

"The Killing Curse is green, what's nuanced about that?"

"Your eyes are green too, and last I checked, you're not evil." Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Lucy interrupted him before he got the chance. "Don't you dare argue with me about that. Argue with me about the color of the sky if you will, but not that, anything but that, Harry James."

I got the sense this was about more than the color green. I also got the sense that Fred and I were intruding on a moment so deep neither of us would have been able to understand the complexity of it if we tried. Part of me wanted to step in and try to fix it, but I didn't even know what needed to be fixed. But Lucy did. Harry did. So Fred and I just exchanged a brief glance and waited for it to blow up or blow over.

"We have enough planned to get us through Christmas, so how about we talk about it over holiday?" Lucy asked.

Harry nodded, inhaling slowly through his nose as he reached for the book again. "Sounds good. I still think the different versions of the Glacius Charm could be helpful if we could figure out a way to disarm someone at the same time."

"Oh, that's brilliant," Fred piped up suddenly. As expected, Lucy and Harry both jumped and looked somewhat embarrassed. They had clearly forgotten we were there. But Fred continued on, pretending not to notice any of this. Or perhaps he wasn't pretending; I was always the more observant twin. "Ice would be almost impossible to escape without a wand."

"Unless you're me before a full moon," Lucy muttered with a wry grin. "I reckon I could melt my way through twice as fast as the average person."

"When is it in November?" I asked.

"The seventh," Lucy and Harry answered in unison.

Lucy glanced over at Harry in surprise, blushing ever so slightly, but Harry glanced over at her, looking surprised by her surprise.

Fred nodded. "So a week from tomorrow?"

"Er, yeah." Lucy blinked and looked over at us. "The fun begins tomorrow."

"It's already beginning," Harry said, still looking at Lucy. "You're already turning pink." He sighed and looked at Fred first, then me, then Fred again with narrowed eyes. "Don't trap her in ice at any point over the course of the next week."

"Not even for experimentation purposes?" Fred inquired. Lucy's knuckles whitened suddenly against the table. Fred didn't notice. "Could be very useful, you know, George and I could try to invent something that would help good people escape ice and bad people stay trapped in it for longer."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't do that, I'm serious."

"No, you're Harry," Lucy said. She was smiling, but the tremble in her voice betrayed her. Harry's eyes widened ever so slightly when he realized the shift in her tone, but before he could react, her smile turned into a yawn and she dragged her hand down her face. "If it's all the same to you, boys, I think I'm going to head to bed. See you in the morning?"

"Night, Lu." Harry glanced over at us, hoping we'd understand his unspoken message. Stay.

"Night, Cub!" Fred and I chorused after her as she headed toward the stairs. With a final wave, Lucy disappeared behind the door, and Harry slammed his head into the table with a resounding thud.

I shoved a pillow between Harry's head and the table when he attempted to concuss himself a second time. "Whoa, Potter, the Prophet already thinks your brains are scrambled, no need to give yourself extra brain damage."

"Yeah, mate, the one scar you have is sexy enough, you don't need another one," Fred added. "What's up?"

"What just happened?" he asked, his voice muffled by the pillow. "What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything," I said. I kicked him under the table. "She's been through a lot, we don't know the full extent of it. Something small probably set her off and she just didn't want to deal with it right now."

"I do know the full extent of it." Harry kept his face pressed to the pillow, but we could understand him well enough. "At least I think I do. But I still keep screwing up no matter how careful I am."

"So stop being careful," Fred replied, leaning the chair onto its back two legs.

Harry lifted his head. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He dropped his head back onto the pillow.

"Maybe if you're not careful, she'll break wide open and then we can all try to get in and help."

Harry lifted his head. "I'm trying to fix her, not break her even more. If that's even possible." He dropped his head back onto the pillow.

Fred pursed his lips. "I'm not saying to try to break her, but maybe if you don't worry so much about treading lightly, you'll accidentally step on something that makes everything blow up and we can try to help sift through the rubble and build her back up again."

Harry lifted his head. "You say that as if everything hasn't already blown up."

"You think everything has already blown up? There's nothing left but rubble?"

Harry dropped his head back onto the pillow. "Yes, obviously."

Fred turned to me. "You're awfully quiet, Georgie. Penny for your thoughts?"

"I charge Galleons, actually," I replied, holding out a hand.

Harry snorted.

Fred pressed his D.A. Galleon into my hand.

"I said Galleons," I pressed. "As in more than one."

Harry lifted his head and passed his D.A. Galleon into my hand as well. "Thoughts?"

"I think for now, Lucy wants to try to pretend everything's alright, and we should think about going along with it."

"For now?" Fred asked.

I nodded. "For now. She can't keep it up forever."

"Yeah, but she's gonna try," Harry muttered. "She's stubborn like that."

"Oh, she's stubborn?" I scoffed.

Harry yanked his D.A. coin from my hand and twisted it in his fingers, chuckling. "I wanted your thoughts on her, not me."

"I didn't say anything about you, Potter."

"Oh, don't act all innocent, Weasley, I'm not thick. But you're right, she'd rather pretend she's fine than deal with everything right now, but it won't last forever. It's been harder for her to keep up the act lately. If I had a Sickle for every time this week we were talking and she spaced out for a second before coming back down to Earth and immediately switching the topic, I'd be rich."

"You're already rich," Fred pointed out.

Harry's face flushed. "Sorry. Muggle expression."

"Oh, we know," we replied in unison.

"Right." Harry sighed and tucked his coin into his pocket again. "I'm going to head to bed, too. No point planning anything without her. Good night."

"Night, Harry," we called after him as he left.

Once the door closed behind him, I leaned back in my chair and sighed. "Freddie?"

"Yes, Georgie?"

"You know what I think these children need?"

"A good scare?"

"Precisely."

"Should we get Lucy? She helped the first time, after all."

"Not this time. She can take over next year, once we've graduated. Should we ask permission from a prefect?"

"Better to ask forgiveness than permission."

"Great minds think alike, Freddie."

"Let's get to work, Georgie."

Fred and I rose from our chairs in unison and set to work. Fear was all around us, pushing down upon us, in the form of torture quills and Dark Marks and whispers of war. So, that night, we carved out our own space in the Fear and filled it with dancing skeletons and screeching bats and exploding pumpkins and screaming masks, transforming the common room into a haunted house, for old time's sake, because sometimes, there's nothing scarier than reality. Sometimes, the fear that comes from being genuinely startled by something physical is the only true escape from the world of the Melofors Jinx and Verdimillious and all matters of complicated emotions like grief and love and the ways they often go hand in hand. Fear, after all, is arguably the most basic of all emotions. Raw. Universal. We carved our own place in it and decided to call it home.

We just hoped no one else minded too much. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, after all, was the assumption on which we generally operated.

~

A/N: I'm so sorry this is so late! It's still technically Saturday where I live, but I always try to have chapters posted much sooner than this. It's been a crazy and stressful couple of days over here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter regardless! I love writing from George's perspective, and I hope you all love it too. Happy Easter to those of you who celebrate! See you all on Wednesday!