The Girl who Survived (Fred Weasley)

CH 95. Farewell

A/N: Hello my lovely lovies,

So this week I really didn't intend of posting late, but the holiday through my schedule out of wack a bit, and June/July are very busy months for me as it is anyway. This chapter and next weeks were originally one chapter, but I decided to split it in to two. fingers crossed that you enjoy.

Without dragging on any further, grab a snack (I have a pint of Ben & Jerry's) and perhaps a drink (I have chosen water - staying hydrated) and lets get to it!

Love and Redemption arcs

Val

Sometimes the hardest goodbye's are the ones we know are coming. because it's not goodbye at all. It's farewell. 

My Dear Elodie,

I understand. And I understand how difficult it is for you to ask such a favor. To ask such a favor of me, more specifically. So it is with a full heart that I will agree, and do as you've asked. You mentioned if my husband would be a hurdle to cross, I must admit, he won't be exactly pleased to do this a second time around. But don't fret, I will hold my ground on this. I give you my word, as a mother, as your aunt, I will keep her from harm. Please allow me this chance to right a wrong, and make up for the mistakes of the past. I promise, she will be the most loved little witch this family has ever known.

Sincerely,

Petunia Dursley

~Elodie's POV~

"I need you to focus," I said with a slight giggle as I looked at Fred who couldn't wipe that slightly mischievous grin off his face.

"Alright, alright already," He said and let out a breath. "You know this isn't really how I pictured the first time doing this being," He commented, taking me slightly by surprise. I let out a slight snort, looking away for a moment before looking back at him. "Honestly, the floor of this dusty flat? Had I known I may have swept up a bit."

"Hey," I said, snapping my fingers in front of his face once. "Stop babbling about and do it already," I said.

He took in another deep breath, letting it reach to his core. Looking down, I could see the hair on his arms standing, the smallest bead of sweat rolling down from his hair line onto his forehead. He was trying his best, which was already more than I could have asked for.

"Ready?" I whispered, waiting for him to nod.

He didn't say anything, but before I knew it, he was moving his hand and fingers in the motion I'd told him would work best, at least, it did when I was on my own. And almost as if he'd known all along, as if he'd been practicing for years, a flame of bright orange fire began twirling through his fingers. Dancing through as they began forming little infinities.

"Open your eyes," I said gently, as I watched him take a look at the nonverbal wandless magic he'd produced all on his own. "Not bad for a beginner," I said, admiring the way he kept the flame balanced. Controlling it so that it wouldn't become too big where it would be uncontrollable, or too small where it would die out.

"Yeah, before you know it, I'll be lighting campfires," he said, holding his palm open before he crushed it in his hand.

I leaned back until I hit the back of the sofa, facing the front door of the flat. I saw the way that the sun was just beginning to crack through the window, painting it's own flaming stripe across the center of the dusty old flat.