❝SO WE'RE OKAY?❞

.・。.・゜✭・.

Ara yawns all the way through the morning, walking silently between Fred and George to meet Basil, the man with the Portkeys, joining the queue to leave the campsite, and all the way back down Stoatshead Hill, through Ottery St. Catchpole, and up the lane toward the Burrow.

The sun is just now rising and Ara's stomach growls angrily, wondering why she was up so early without feeding it. She feels as though she hasn't slept at all, and thinks longingly of her cot in Ginny's room, of a steaming cup of tea, perhaps ready for her at the kitchen table.

A worried shout of, "Oh, thank goodness!" jolts Ara out of her daydream. Mrs. Weasley is running down the lane toward them, still in her robe and slippers, a pained expression on her face.

"Arthur, I've been so worried–so worried–" Mrs. Weasley leaps into her husband's arms, pulling him into a tight embrace. A rolled-up newspaper falls from her hand and unrolls on the ground. Ara leans over to read the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, accompanied by a black-and-white photo of the Dark Mark in the sky. In the photo, it looks almost tame.

"You're all right..." Mrs. Weasley lets go of Mr. Weasley, staring around at all of them dazedly. "You're alive... oh, boys..."

And she pulls Fred and George into her arms tightly, tears pooling in her already red-rimmed eyes.

"Ouch, Mum–" Fred yelps, rubbing his head.

"You're strangling us!" George adds, struggling against her iron grip.

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley sobs. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.L.s? Oh, Fred... George..."

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay." Mr. Weasley pulls her off of Fred and George, his voice calm and gentle, and wraps his arm around her shoulders, leading her back to the house.

"Remember what I said before we left?" Ara says quietly, taking her place between Fred and George again. "That your mum only wants what's best for you?"

"It physically pains me that you're always right, you know," George says, grinning.

Everyone manages to fit around the tiny kitchen table, and Ara helps Hermione brew some tea for everyone–Mr. Weasley sneaks a shot of firewhisky into Mrs. Weasley's cup–while Bill, Mr. Weasley, and Percy read the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.

"I knew it," Mr. Weasley sighs. "'Ministry blunders...culprits not apprehended...lax security...Dark wizards running unchecked...national disgrace...' Who wrote this? Ah, of course: Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" Percy blusters, his ears turning furiously red. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans–"

"Do us a favor, Perce, and shut up," says Bill lazily, stifling a yawn. Percy flushes and clamps his mouth shut.

Mr. Weasley's eyebrows fly up as he reaches the bottom of the page. "I'm mentioned."

Mrs. Weasley chokes on her tea. "Where? If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name." Mr. Weasley gestures to the page. "Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' Oh, really. Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? 'Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods...' Well, there certainly will be rumors now she's printed that."

He sighs. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," Percy says, taking the paper from his father and puffing out his chest importantly. "Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."

He heads out of the kitchen, toward the stairs. Ara realizes suddenly that they're leaving for school tomorrow, and she won't see much of Percy at all until perhaps Christmas. This needs to be settled here and now.

She lies to Fred and George, saying she needs something from Ginny's room, and disappears into the stairwell, the soft, muffled chatter from the kitchen following her out the door.

Once in the peaceful quiet of the stairwell, Ara closes her eyes and lets the memory of two months ago wash over her. Refreshing her mind, despite the pang in her heart, knowing she has to confront this now...

It is warm in King's Cross today, the end of June bringing sunshine and humidity to London. Ara wishes she had put her hair up. Fred and George are joking with Lee as they exit the train and head back through the barrier from Platform 9 ¾.

Just as Ara is about to follow them, there's a hand on her shoulder. "Ara."

She turns around, frowning, and faces Percy. "Hey."

"Can–can I talk to you for a second?" he asks, the tips of his ears beet-red.

"Sure," Ara replies slowly, stepping away from the barrier. She's confused; Percy's just graduated from Hogwarts. He should be celebrating with his family–but instead, he's pulling her over behind another column, out of sight.

"Percy, I'm so sorry about Penelope," Ara says, before Percy can even open his mouth. "I heard she broke up with you, and I know you really liked her."

"Yeah, um, about that." Percy runs a hand through his hair, the red from his ears now coloring his face. "I–I actually broke it off. With–with Penelope."

Ara's so incredibly confused. "You what?"

"I ended things." Percy glances up at her, eyes somewhat muddled through the lenses of his glasses.

"Why? I thought you liked her."

"I did, I did, and she's a great girl, she's smart and–and fun, but she deserves someone who can give her their–their full attention," Percy says quietly, staring down at his feet uncomfortably.

"I don't understand." Ara shakes her head, frowning. "What are you trying to say?"

"I broke it off with Penelope because I'm in love with someone else!"

Ara's mouth goes dry. "Who?" she asks, but something deep inside her already knows the answer.

"You." It's a whisper, but Percy might as well have shouted it. "You, Ara. It's always been you."

"Percy–"

"Look, I know this–this is unexpected, but I've loved you for years, and I just–I can't keep pretending I don't." Percy pauses, out of breath, cheeks flushed. "You're the only one who really understands me, Ara. All those nights you spent helping me study, encouraging me when no one else did... I never forgot it."

Tears burn at Ara's eyes and she wipes one away with the back of her hand, struggling to keep eye contact. "God, Percy..."

"And–and I had to tell you, because I've graduated and I'll be working at the Ministry, and if we were to go out, it'd be long distance, writing letters and–and only seeing each other at holidays, and I just–I had to say it now, before you went home–"

"Percy, please–"

"So–so do you–I mean, am I–" Percy stumbles over his words, clearly trying to make sense of it all. "Do you feel the same way? I–I mean, about me?"

Ara wishes she could give the right answer.

Wishes she could make Percy smile.

But they both hate liars.

So she does the hardest thing she has ever done.

And shakes her head. "No. No, I don't."

Percy's face falls, tearing Ara's heart in two. "Oh."

"It's not that I don't love you, Percy, I swear I do, but–" Ara hazards a glance behind her, toward the barrier– "I don't love you the way you love me. And I couldn't lie to you and say that I did. That wouldn't be fair to you."

She sniffles and wipes away another tear, forcing herself to keep looking into Percy's eyes.

He nods slowly. "I understand."

"A! Ara, your family's here! Ara, come on, where are you?"

Ara glances back over her shoulder; Fred, George, and Lee are looking for her. They came back through the barrier.

She gives Percy a watery smile, wipes the last of her tears away, and hurries toward her friends, apologizing for taking so long.

That was the last time Ara and Percy had a real conversation.

Ara blinks. She's on the second-floor landing, right in front of his door.

She takes a deep breath.

You can do this.

She knocks once. Twice.

The door opens. Percy pokes his head out, scowling, still wearing his Muggle t-shirt and jeans from earlier. "Look, I've got to be at the Ministry, can this be–" He stops, eyes landing on Ara and widening in surprise. "Oh."

"Percy, can we talk?" Ara asks softly, and then there are footsteps on the stairs, heading right toward them.

Percy nods hastily, pulling her into his room. They clearly have the same idea of not being seen by the others.

His room is entirely neat, just as it's always been, except for the pile of paper and quills strewn across his desk. Ara thinks that must be the cauldron bottom report he's been furiously working on.

"What–what is this about?" asks Percy, shoving his hands into his pockets awkwardly, seemingly unsure of himself now that they're alone.

Ara takes a deep breath and attempts to formulate her thoughts coherently. "I'm...just tired of this–this thing between us and I wanted to really talk about it, more than we did before."

Percy inhales sharply, his eyes darting to the window uncomfortably. "Okay."

"I never wanted to lead you on," Ara says carefully, her heart beating loudly in her throat. "I loved you like a brother and–and a friend, and of course I still do, but I couldn't pretend to love you any other way. You deserve someone who could truly care for you that way. But I don't want this to come between us. I miss talking to you."

"I'll always love you, Ara," Percy mutters, staring at the floor. "Always."

"You'll find someone else, Percy, I know you will." Ara swallows hard, forcing her voice to stay steady. "But for now, can we be friends?" She extends her hand to him, hoping he'll take it.

Percy looks up at her through his eyelashes, glasses distorting his eyes once again, and for a moment, they just stand there, Ara feeling silly with her hand outstretched. But then he sighs and takes her hand, shaking it firmly. "Friends."

Ara's shoulders sag with relief and she smiles wanly up at him. "So we're okay?"

"We're okay." Percy smiles back; it's a forced smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Oh, and uh–" He opens a drawer of his desk, rifles through it for a moment, and then pulls out a handful of brightly colored toffees. "I waited until Mum went out to feed the chickens, and I don't think she saw."

"You're a lifesaver, Percy," Ara says, taking the sweets from him and shoving them into the pocket of her jeans. "Thank you."

"Just don't tell them it was me, yeah?"

"I won't."

There's a moment of silence again, slightly awkward, and then Percy gestures to the pile of robes on his bed. "Uh, I've got to be at the Ministry with Dad in a few minutes, so–?"

"Oh, yeah." Ara nods, flushing. "See you, Percy."

"See you." He closes the door behind her with a gentle snap.

Ara leans against the wall, somehow slightly out of breath, but extremely relieved. She thought Percy would be angrier than he was, thought maybe he'd yell at her or something, anything but forgive her. Their relationship will always be different after his confession, but maybe now it'll be just a little less awkward. And maybe Fred will stop staring at them so much.

"Oi, you."

Ara blinks out of her thoughts and glances down at the bottom of the stairs, where Fred and George are leaning against the wall, grinning up at her.

"Want to play Quidditch?" asks George. "Bill, Charlie, Harry, and Ron are in."

"Wouldn't that make the teams uneven?" Ara raises her eyebrows at them.

"Nah." Fred shakes his head. "We'll get Ginny to play, as much as it pains us."

"Alright, then." Ara hurries down the stairs, an extra skip in her step after the relief of Percy's forgiveness, and takes her place between the twins. "Oh, and I have something for the two of you." She fishes in her pocket and pulls out the handful of toffees, handing some to each of the awestruck twins.

"How..." George opens and closes his mouth like a goldfish. "How did you get these? Mum threw them in the bin!"

"I'm a miracle worker," Ara replies, grinning. "You're welcome."

"No, really, tell us," Fred says, bumping her with his shoulder gently.

"A magician never reveals her secrets."

"Merlin's beard, A–"

"I won't be on your team, Georgie–"

"That's fine, you're always on mine anyway–"

The joyful banter lasts all the way out into the garden, where the others are waiting, brooms at the ready, and as the sun rises high into the sky, Ara's heart swells with joy, despite the events of the night before and the growing fear she feels at the state of the wizarding world. Things are changing rapidly around them, but in this little pocket of the earth, in the overgrown garden, laughing with her friends, time stops for a while.

.・。.・゜✭・.

apologies for not updating in a month, i was in the process of moving house and graduating! updates should be regular for the near future <3