#your headlights were shining ON THE HOUSE NUMBER of one of the neighbors one of these packages was supposed to go to!!!

[seekingthestars]

delivery driver: puts 2 packages on the porch at 9:15pm

me: goes to get packages and realizes they're for TWO DIFFERENT NEIGHBORS. he delivered two packages going to DIFFERENT HOUSES to the wrong address

me, deeply apologetic: goes to TWO DIFFERENT HOUSES to give neighbors their packages at 9:30PM just being like "i am so sorry i am on your porch so late but i do not want these in my house to have to deal with later, pls take your box" fjewioafewa

[sukiglycerin]

it takes two || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, teeny bit of angst

* words: 1,647

* warnings: brief fighting scene (implied), swearing (duh), a lil bit of insecure katsuki but ofc comfort after, reader is mentioned to be in the hero business field, KATSUKI WEARS SHOES IN THE HOUSE !!! can you believe the audacity-

* original request:  Hello dear :)) Can I request a Bakugou x reader fic where he gets hit by a clone quirk and the clone is like the complete opposite of him, personality-wise, and Bakugou frequently loses his temper because the clone keeps hitting on his s/o I am sorry for bothering you :(

* a/n: you? bother me? never. actually, i’m sorry this took so long to complete! i’m hoping i can restart a consistent posting schedule soon. happy early birthday bakugou! this is my gift :) i hope you all enjoy~ i love @toishi for proofreading this T^T

it’s a lazy day for you. all you’ve been doing is sleeping, waking up occasionally to eat, and indulging in six different rhythm games despite your lack of rhythm, it’s a good day, snuggled up under the mountains of fuzzy blankets and squished in between soft pillows on your bed, your favorite song quietly playing from your phone on your nightstand. natural light fills your otherwise unlit room, curtains pushed aside to let the sun shine in her full glory. time is idle in this sanctuary of yours for only today; whether a minute or an hour has passed is something out of your concern. 

there’s nothing different when bakugou comes home, the jingle of keys and click of the door telling you that it’s him. he’s oddly quiet, though, and for a second you’re almost wondering why he hasn��t yelled “i’m home, dumbass!” before said blond peeks his head into the room. 

“hey, love,” he flashes a rare smile. it’s kind, like the soft light of the sun you've become so acquainted with. “i’m home.”

“hey?” you sit up, propping the pillows behind you so you can comfortably lean against the headboard of your bed. “you feeling alright?”

you expect a gruff reply of “the fuck are you talking about?” and a scowl, but get the opposite. a pleasant expression graces katsuki's face, which makes him look more handsome than usual. his hair almost seems tame this way. he’s also uncharacteristically clean; his costume is usually dirt-treaded and at least a little battered whenever he returns from hero patrol. now, though? his outfit is pristine, as if pulled out from a laundromat and ironed professionally. there’s a ghost of a frown on your lips.

"i'm lovely, now that i can see you." the line is spoken like a sappy confession from the male lead of a k-drama; you'd laugh if it wasn't for your utter confusion about katsuki's sudden change in demeanor. his facial expression is twisted in such a gallant way that it arouses suspicion in you.

you’re opening your mouth to reply when there’s a startling crashing at the front door. katsuki’s face falls into downhearted dread, as if expecting the intrusion. his reaction surprises you more than the intrusion itself. the door slams shut in the distance, rattling the house. the sound of boots clomping against the hardwood floor frightens you as you thrust your warm sheets aside (alas, they could wait) and reach for your bat under the bed. katsuki only stares at you, transfixed, and you feel the slightest urge to clobber him with the weapon. why isn’t he ready to fight? you’re up and approaching the doorway of your bedroom when you stop in your tracks.

“hey, fucker!” a loud, abrasive voice yells from down the hallway. “i found ya!”

you recognize that timbre in an instant, then turn to look at katsuki, still standing at your bedside, with a questioning gaze. he’s wearing an expression you never thought you’d see your husband have - his eyes are wide, mouth agape like a deer in headlights.

despite this vote of inconfidence from him, you pad forward slowly, bat gripped tightly and slung over your shoulder. you plunge forward, passing the doorway and glancing left. a shadowy figure stands five feet from you, its stature menacing. you swing blindly, but you bat is only met with more air. the figure is a little bit further now - damnit, it had good reflexes.

“you could still use some work on that swing,” it lowly chuckles and confuses you. you squint, trying to make out who in the world this guy thinks he is to comment on your swing. you gasp, faltering your grip on the bat. 

“k-katsuki? what?”

“got hit with a stupid clone quirk on patrol,” this katsuki grumbles bitterly, stepping towards you. he’s dressed in his full hero costume, green grenadier bracers a tight fit in the narrow hallway. “i apprehended the guy but my clone won’t stop following me around. it’s stupidly fast, too, whenever i try to catch it.”

“....and,” you start, “how do i know that you’re not the clone?” you pretend to inspect him close, eyes slowly trailing from the tips of his spiky, golden hair to his black combat boots. (oh, man, you were going to yell at him about wearing shoes in the house later.)

“don’t start this inception bullshit with me now,” he groans. 

“what’s katsuki bakugou’s favorite food?” you question, though you have no doubt that this katsuki is the real one. 

“anything spicy,” he bemoans. “now, let me-”

“that was an easy one.” you shake your head. “what was the first idea katsuki bakugou had for a hero name idea instead of lord explosion murder?”

if you were in better light, you’re sure you would’ve seen his cheeks flush pink. 

“mighty boom,” he mumbles. 

“sorry, what was that?” you tease.

“mighty boom!” he half-shouts, flustered.

“oh, okay, so you’re the real katsuki,” you say. “how do we defeat the clone?’

“according to the quirk user, it should disappear after two or three hours. but it can’t really do much harm, as long as it’s not in the sight of the user himself,” he says. “now let me at ‘im. he’s making a fool of myself.” 

he attempts to shove himself forward, but you stop him before he can see through the door frame. you glance at the clone, who’s looking at you with round, ruby eyes. he looks like a puppy with that innocent expression, and for a split second, you think that you actually might miss the calm, charming air of this katsuki. turning back to the real katsuki, who pretends not to notice the shift in your eyes, you exhale. 

“have at it, but take it outside first, please. i can’t have you tracking in more dirt.” you look to the dirt-ridden footprints behind him on the wooden flooring, sighing.

but in a flash he’s past you - wow, you really weren’t blocking him at all before, were you? - outfit a blur of black, green, and orange as he seizes the clone, slings it over his shoulder like it's made of air, and vanishes past you and out the door. he seldom leaves a trace of dirt, this time, smooth maneuvering himself outside while the clone bids you one last pleading farewell.

you hear blasting, yelling, and yelps, the lattermost presumably the clone’s, barely muffled from your position inside. your first thought wonders what the neighbors will think. you glance one last time at the tracks of katsuki’s boots then turn back to your room. he’d have to mop up that mess later. 

ten minutes and an eternity later, katsuki returns inside. by the pause at the front door, you figure one of two things: katsuki’s either taking the time to take off his shoes and put them away properly or staring at the filth he left on the floor. you’re hoping it’s the former. his footsteps are light as he goes to fetch a mop and clean the mess.

finished, he shuffles into your shared room and briefly looks at your comfortable position on the bed.

“what?” you whine. “hero business is hard. i needed a day off.”

this earns a laugh from the man, who’s in the process of removing his gauntlets and stowing them away. he shrugs off the rest of his costume, opting for much more comfortable attire and dropping his mask on a dresser. 

“how was your day?” you ask when he snuggles next to you on the bed. he’s sweaty and smells deeply of caramel, but you’ll nag him to shower later. the wear shows in his eyes and movement, sluggish after a long day of work. 

“good,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your warmth. “except for that clone bastard.”

you hum, joking, “he was charming, though.”

when he looks up at you with a vulnerable look in his eyes, you regret it.

“did you… really like him that much?” his voice is hoarse, scarcely a whisper. he averts his eyes, fiddling with the hem of your shirt sleeve.

“of course not,” you reply tenderly, bringing your hand to caress his cheek. he still can’t look you in the eyes.

“you know you’ll always be number one in my heart, right? even if you’re not the number one hero, you’re the constant in my heart.” you touch your chest, right over your heart. 

“y-you sure?” his words crackle like dying embers, inconsistent and unstable, flakes of lit ash that weakly dissipate into the atmosphere. a waning fire is still warm, though; with a bit of oxygen it can be rejuvenated, relit, and burn bright once again. 

“am i one to be wrong?” you ask him, and he faintly shakes his head. “i fell in love with you not for your looks, katsuki… i don’t want a disney prince. i want you, not some fairytale guy.”

“i yell, and i’m brash-”

you cut him off, chuckling, “and that’s what i love about you. you don’t-” you make a vague gesture with your hands, then drop them, unsure how to articulate your thoughts. “you don’t care what people think. you’re unapologetically… you.”

“you sure?” katsuki tries again. “that- that guy, that thing- you sure you don’t prefer a guy that’ll buy you roses with a note on the tag that says ‘you are the most beautiful flower in my garden’ in fancy cursive script on it?”

“do people really do that?” you frown. “i mean, i hope no guy does that for me-” katsuki exhales a breath of relief. you look at him questioningly but don’t press the issue. 

“i love you, katsuki,” you finish, “and no shitty clone will ever change that. ever.”

while he showers, katsuki’s thankful that he burned the roses from some secret admirer he found in your shoe locker during your high school days. 

[cinebration]

The Darkest Shine (Dan Torrance x Reader) [Part 6]

I’M TAKING SOME CREATIVE LIBERTIES WITH THE STEPHEN KING UNIVERSE. PLEASE BE KIND.

The gif is of Matthew McConaughey as the Man in Black because even though the movie wasn’t great, he looked FINE.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14  | Part 15 | Part 16 | Epilogue

Tagged: @blackeasteagle​

Warnings: none

Gif source: jonathanmorgensterns

You left Dan’s apartment when the realization he was alive had sunk in deep enough for his racing mind and tripping heart to settle. Scribbling down your number, you told him to call at any time if he felt something change in his condition or if he simply needed to talk.

“Are you staying here in town?” he asked. There was the unmistakable note of urgency in his voice.

“For the night, at least.”

“Is there…someone waiting for you back home?” He struggled through the question without quite meeting your eyes.

“No.”

Home was the desert of Southern California in a house not much more than a shack, where the fastest way to a neighbor was on a dirt bike that you had let go to seed long ago. Where you were hidden and exposed to the creature of night that stalked you in shadows. Where the flat expanse around you meant you could see him coming.

You lived in the desert because at high noon, there were no shadows, and you could breathe in dusty air for some relief.

Alone in the desert, should you fall, as you knew you would, no one would have to hear your screams.

“Would you consider staying a while?” Dan asked.

There was something in his face you couldn’t identify, a look that made your heart hurt, though you couldn’t say why.

“Maybe. But for now, I’ll leave you alone.”

He offered to walk you downstairs to your car. Waving him away, you insisted you would be fine. You left before he could stop you.

The moment your feet hit the sidewalk, the hair on your neck rose, a psychic finger dragging down your spine.

“Hello, darling.”

The smooth, susurrus voice didn’t scrape the inside of your skull, instead tickling your physical ear drums.

Heart thundering in your chest, you turned. Lounging against a birch tree lining the street, the man dressed in all black, his hair unnaturally obsidian, surveyed you with eyes shining bright in the waning moon’s light. A light chuckle escaped him.

“I love it when I have that effect on you,” he purred. Pushing himself off the tree, he sauntered over, teeth bared in a smile.

Forcing yourself to hold your ground, you met his gaze. “What do you want?”

“Stupid question, darling. You already know the answer.”

The sound of metal twisting on impact, spilled gasoline assaulting your nose, pain through your chest, flared up in your sense memory.

The man in black stopped before you, dragged a long finger across your jawline. You flinched away from the unpleasant chill that knifed through you.

“Seems my experiments on you have borne fruit,” he cooed, “and what a forbidden one it has.”

Dan’s voice called out your name in his mind. Are you alright?

You glanced up as surreptitiously as you could. Dan stood at his window, peering down at you.

“Oh, pretty boy can’t see me,” the man in black whispered into your ear.

I’m fine, you lied to Dan. You strode over to your car mechanically, the man in black matching your strides easily.

“I do love to go for a drive,” he said. “I like it best when I have a driver.”

Your hand froze on the door handle. “I don’t want another crash.” The words oozed out of your mouth, thicker than molasses.

“Neither do I. I had something different planned for this time. Get in the car.”

Glancing back up at Dan, you slipped into the front seat, the man in back settling behind you in the back. You could just see him in the rear view mirror. His gaze fixated on Dan’s figure in the window, a finger tapping his chin thoughtfully.

You couldn’t drive away fast enough.

~~

The man in black went by many names. The one you knew him as was Walter, a common name for an uncommon man, if he was even that. In your mind, he was always the man in black, the dark not-angel that had dogged you your whole life. The fear and hatred he instilled in you by his very presence could be tasted on your tongue, bitter and vile.

It took all your concentration not to gag in the car. Between the panic and the taste in your mouth, you were struggling.

Walter guided you out of the sleepy New Hampshire town and over the state line into Maine. You drove for three hours until he had you pull off the road and into deep woods.

The headlights illuminated a shallow grave in which a simple pinewood box lay. Your heart leapt into your throat.

“Out, darling,” he ordered.

“I’ll stay dead this time.”

“I don’t think so. Come on, time’s a-wasting.”

You sat rooted to the seat, the horror of what was to come numbing you. It wouldn’t be a simple shot to the chest or fatal blow to the skull with the shovel. The man in black liked trauma, especially the psychological kind.

“That’s messed up,” Crow Daddy muttered, letting out a low whistle.

Before you could respond, the driver’s door opened. The man in black leaned down to look into the car.

“Crow Daddy, is it?” He smiled humorlessly. “Fuck off.”

Crow Daddy disappeared.

“Come on, darling.”

Dragging yourself out of the car, you followed Walter over to the grave. He gestured you into the box.

Looking down at the coffin, you wished your Shine was stronger, different. Capable of ending this man’s twisted games on you. If you tried to run, he would only make the dying worse, and his voice inside your skull would hold more sway over you.

You climbed into the box. Only after he placed the lid over you did you begin to tremble.

Earth rained down onto the wood.

[hinac0lada]

neck deep

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oikawa tooru/reader 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: another attempt at angst. this was inspired by a dream i got the other night lol. so it’s very different from any other fic i’ve written + i’m kinda trying something new. [ graphic by me ]

they say dreams are like a shadow of history you’ve lived in a previous life. dreams stirs the imagination of one. like a cold, grey darkness. similar to a lonesome and hollow place. it’s like you can’t imagine stuff like that are what dreams are made of.

but what if dreams were like a calling? a premonition. a warning. suddenly dreams have become scary, like shedding light to an old folk tale.

lately, oikawa realizes his dreams may have a deeper meaning to them than he initially thought.

he vividly remembers the last place his dream took place. it was in a parking lot. he doesn’t know why since he doesn’t even have a license nor a car yet, but he peers through it anyway. he couldn’t see a plate number, but he remembers seeing vibrant colors of neon lights. red and blue, he recalls. 

he starts up the car, with the engine roaring to life. he waits for a moment to warm up the car, the luminescent lights inside glowing for indicators of certain buttons. oikawa steps on the gas pedal, accelerating to wherever the road ahead were to take him. sometimes it appeared endless, often leading him to a cold and empty cloud of space. at times, he feels as though he wasn’t even the one steering the wheel. the headlights were on. he doesn’t remember turning them on himself. but it doesn’t matter. there appeared to be nothing on the road. nothingness, it seemed.

oikawa takes a deep breath in, inhaling whatever fresh air he was surrounded with. he suddenly felt the air clog up. he felt like a fish out of water. he was beyond terrified and confused. a couple of dreadful minutes of feeling like he lost the ability to breath, it all came back. it choked him to breathe in multiple scents all at once. 

moments after an endless drive to nowhere, cars materialized out of thin air. all appear to be going in the same opposite direction. he was alone in his own lane. he observes each car passing by. they all had different sizes, ranging from minivans, micro, pickup trucks and small cabs. the only thing was, they didn't have any color nor shape. they were all silhouettes. it made him feel unease, as if at any moment, one would suddenly drift into his direction and slam his car out of the way. death by car accident. either one of these cars could be a symbol. vehicles of destruction, he thought. it was alarmingly fitting.

a silhouette manifested beside him in the passenger seat. he couldn't say he was surprised. the unknown figure just sat there, no words spoken. none of them spoke for a majority of the ride.

oikawa tries to talk to the figure seated beside him. he didn't know why, but he felt the need to. it's like he knew this mass of darkness in the real world. the mass was familiar to him.

even though he can feel the cold air it emitted, he feels warmth and solidarity. it wasn't a pleasant match, he'll give that. it made him feel bitter at the distasteful feeling. still, the figure gave no signs of moving or talking. by now, it's fixated on a much more humane form than just a dark floating mass of mist. he couldn't identify if it was a man or woman though.

but why would that matter anyway? it was stupid to question it in the first place.

oikawa felt helpless. he's arrived at their destination. it was a beauty salon surrounded by neighboring houses and convenience stores. it was so out of place. upon his inspection, the salon inside lead to an apartment. it was so surreal.

he finally gets out of the car, shutting the car door firmly and shifts towards the run-down building. he's blocked by a woman. she was fairly the same height as him, albeit a bit shorter. hair at a [h.l] length.  it was most definitely you in the flesh. the only difference from the real you was your eyes. dull, [e.c] irises seem to blend in with a colorless sheen of black; engaging in the pitch black sea of darkness.

he tries to speak but soon faltered when he couldn't even hear his own voice. your dead, fish-like eyes were unnerving. never blinking and cold. oikawa raises an arm out to touch you - to have some sort of contact and feel something akin to warmth. he felt so cold, but you only moved to avoid the hand reaching for your head. he didn't know why this action left him feeling numb. in reality, it wounds him more than he reap.

you took off running, making the gap between you two stretch even wider. he failed to notice the gap that formed the moment he found you. you ran inside the door of the one building that stood out more than the rest. he follows you, naturally. he looked like a lost puppy; all cold, searching for a place that would welcome him.

oikawa was shaken to the core. it wasn't that he was bothered by the transparent plexiglass was blocking him from making his way over to you, but it was the way you looked at him. you both were staring at each other down through the glass, one with wearisome eyes and the other a mute.

your face suddenly contorted into multiple expressions; from dumbstruck, sorrow, grief, disgust and finally rage. all emotions that he felt were directed at him.

he tried read your moving lips, as he couldn't even hear your voice from the other side, but he couldn't catch a word you were saying. your lips moved too fast for him to make out a sentence. he places his face closer to the glass, pressing his ear against it in hopes of making out something. anything, even if it was muffled. he jumped back a deafening sound of a high pitch octave waved through his ears. he hunches over at the tingling feeling he felt.

then he heard a sound. it was far away, distant. but as he stayed hunched in a fetal position, the voice got louder and louder. it was an echo coming from every direction. an echo comprised of you.

"look at you. so pathetic. i don't think i've ever seen a sadder sight." a giggle came from the left. your figure stood still beyond the thick layer of glass that proved to be a barrier between you two. he didn't need to take another look to know you were nowhere near him.

he hears snickers and mumbles of agreement behind him. "i can't believe i let him take away months worth of my life. i can never take those back." your voice seethed.

the color of the sky shifted to one of burgundy. the pop of color filled the dark void he was surrounded in, with the red-maroon like color kissing his skin in silence.

your laugh echoed everywhere as he leans his weight on one leg, staggering to stand up in his shaken state. you knew his vulnerability. you knew about his emotional state. he couldn't deal with it all at once, especially if it came from you.

"you think i care about you? please! am i that desperate to you?"

he whimpers, the ache in his heart growing ever so slowly.

"i don't even know what i saw in you."

his lips trembled.

"i don't ever want to see you again."

he trudged towards the glass barrier, hands shaking as he breathed a puff of air on the glass, fingers writing words he hoped you'd get. you had to.

please come back to me

in response to his poorly written message, you placed a palm on the glass, as if you were reaching out to him from your side.

i still love you

he can tell the difference though. he knows you didn't mean it. you never did.

so he ran away.

after crumbling back to the man he once was, he returned to the drivers seat, tears blurring his vision as he slammed his foot on the pedal, desperate to get out of that place. he didn't care where he ended up in. as long as it was far away from here. the road was dark and never-ending. he thinks back to the previous vehicles that drove pass him - probably hours or even days ago - and wishes how he should've just gotten rammed into. it wouldn't be so bad, would it?

time was nonexistent at this point.

oikawa woke up crying. his tears fell silently on his face. he was a bit startled, having awoke to a wet stain on his cheek. he brings up a finger to touch the drying tears. it's just a dream, he reminds himself. he squints his eyes in the dark, turning his head to find another source of light other than the moon shining through the windows of his apartment. his eyes lock on the alarm clock resting on the small cabinet beside his bed. it read 3:56 am.

he feels the bed shift, causing him to take a breather. he gives himself a moment to relax but he can't. he looks down on his shaky palms, envisioning your sleeping figure coddled up to a pillow beside him.

it just felt too real.

[haddonfieldproject]

1️⃣8️⃣

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.1.18 HALLOWEEN NIGHT/NOVEMBER 1st 12:55 AM

Haddonfield, Illinois

As Samantha slept peacefully in a sleazy motel five or so miles to the east, Josh and Chelsea Keane along with Penny Cornell walked south down 15th street, carrying flashlights. They were joined by a smattering of concerned neighbors, and various teenagers who had just been wrapping up the night's revelry, these were still in their costumes. Periodically they called Maddie's name down the dark, tree lined street. At intervals a porch light would come on, suddenly illuminate a dark quiet house, and the occupant therin would step out unto the porch and inquire as to the situation.

At one point, an older man in a wife beater and boxer shorts stepped unto his front stoop carrying a baseball bat, asked, “What's all this damn yelling fer?”, and when he was informed he seem to nod gravely.

“I hope he didn't get her!” He said.

This didn't register with Chelsea. In the proceeding hours she had become so frantic with grief at trying to find her still missing daughter that she had forgot all about the escaped mental patient that the cops had shown up to her door to warn her about.

“Who?” Josh asked. Chelsea had not had time to fill him in about the police visit either.

“Haven't you seen the TV?” The man called.

Penny's cellphone began to ring from her purse and she broke away from her boyfriend and his mother.

“Who won?!” One of the teenagers---disguised for the night as Morty from the late night animated television show Rick and Morty---called to the old man.

The old man scowled, waved his hand at the teens in disgust...this of course delighted them...and went back inside his house, his storm door slamming smartly behind him. The porch light cut off a few seconds later?

“Who is it?” Josh asked after Penny.

“My mom,” she replied, and answered her phone, walking away a few paces.

Headlights came around a turn up ahead, belonging to a vehicle turning unto 15th from Mill Rd. The car approached, slowed, and then pulled beside them, a spotlight coming on from the near the driver's side window. It was a Warren County Police Cruiser. An older looking African American gentleman appeared behind the window as it came down. The name tag on his khaki uniform read: E. HARRIS.

“Little late for Trick-Or-Treating.” He said acutely in a deep baritone voice, his eyes moving back and forth from Chelsea to Josh and then panning across the other party. From his stereo inside the car at low volume Chelsea could hear the sounds of some kind of sports broadcast.

“No Officer! My daughter, she's missing!” Chelsea stammered.

“Have you alerted the authorities?” Officer Harris asked.

“Every time I've called I've gotten a busy signal! And I've called both 911 and the non-emergenc number!”

Harris cut off the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt. “When was the last time you called?”

Chelsea pulled her phone out of the pocket of her pajama pants and looked at it. “It's been about thirty minutes now.”

Harris opened the door and stepped out. “I think they've quieted down now. We've had a hell of a night.” He gripped the radio reciever clipped to his left shoulder and depressed a button. “654 to 66 copy?” He spoke quietly and then asked Chelsea. “How old is she?”

“She's five!” Chelsea stammered. Penny had finished her phone call and was walking back toward them.

Harris' radio chirped. “66 to 654, I copy you Elton. Over.”

Harris replied. “I got a 10-57 J at 15th and Mill, over.” and then looked to Chelsea. “How long has she been missing?”

“About three hours now,” Chelsea said breathlessly. “Me and the older ones were watching a movie at my friend's house...I'm babysitting her son...and she was playing with him in his room and when the movie was over I went to tuck them in and we haven't been able to find her.”

“Copy 10-57 J at 15th and Mill, over.”

“And where are the other minors?” Harris asked.

“Dylan is with Penny's younger sister still at the house?” Chelsea motioned to Penny who stood beside Josh, his arm around her waist.

“And who are these two?” Harris asked, pointing to Josh and Penny.

“This is my son Josh and his girlfriend Penny.” Chelsea sighed.

“And where were you babysitting at?” Harris disconnected his radio from his collar as it chirped again.

“654, do you have a description on the John? Over.”

“10-23, Over.” Harris responded.

“Copy that, Over.”

“My friend Ellen's house. 3679 Matthew Street.”

“Is there any adult there now?”

Chelsea shook her head.

Harris swept a hand across the crowd. “Well these two and these guys are way passed curfew. We need to get back to your house, you can't leave the children unattended at home while you're walking all over the streets in the middle of the night.”

Lighting flashed in the sky. A loud rumbling peal of thunder followed.

“Besides, it looks like we're about to get it soon.”

“But Maddie is out here somewhere and we have to find her!” Chelsea exclaimed.

“I understand ma'am. But nine times out of ten the missing child returns to the home from which they left, and if she gets there right now or is there right now, how are you gonna know about it?”

Chelsea nodded, conceding the point.

Harris pointed to Josh and Penny.

“I want you to take this young lady home right now.” He turned back to Chelsea. “You can come with me, I'll take you home and we'll shine our spotlight around along the way.”

He then raised his voice.

“As for the rest of you! The best thing we can do right now is to go on home! Halloween is over!”

A collective groan went up from the teenagers, some of which had already begun to disperse as soon a police cruiser had come into sight.

An older woman, one of Ellen's neighbors spoke up. “It is well within my right to continue searching for the poor girl if I want to, isn't it Officer?”

“Ma'am, we're gonna get one hell of a storm here in a bit and the last thing I want is for you to be struck by lightning in the middle of the street in the dark. Go on home ma'am, let the authorities take care of this.”

The woman grumbled something as she turned to walk in the other direction.

Harris grabbed Chelsea by her shoulders. “We'll get back to the house and radio all the info in for an Amber Alert. She can't have gone too far. We'll find her.”

“The cops earlier said something about an escaped mental patient...” Chelsea stammered, “Somebody from Smith's Grove or something.”

Harris smiled, but his eyes shown no joviality. “Don't worry about him ma'am. We got his ass.”

Chelsea breathed a sigh of relief.

Officer Harris opened the Cruiser's door and sat down, tapping the screen of mounted GPS system to activate it. “Where are we going again?”

“3679 Matthew Street.” She said, looking up to the sky as lightning flashed again.

“Wait? 3679 Matthew...is that Misty's place?”

Mentally, Chelsea rolled her eyes.

“Yes, she's been my friend since High School.”

“Man, I ain't seen Misty since...”

“Mom, will you call me if they find anything?” Josh asked, hugging his mother by the neck.

“Of course,” Chelsea replied, patting him on the back.

“Good night Penny. It was good to have you over.” Chelsea forced a smile to the young girl who was dressed as Velma.

“Good night Ms. Keane.” She responded, forcing a smile of her own. The two began to walk back to the direction of Ellen AKA Misty Dawn's house, to where Penny's car was parked.

“In order to get you into the squad car, I gotta frisk you.” Harris said, stepping back out of the Cruiser.

Chelsea, who was no stranger to being put into the back of squad car...a side effect of her younger more wild youth, stepped toward the hood of the cruiser and placed her hands upon it quietly.

Harris came towards her.

“Do you have any weapons on you I should know about?”

NEXT>>

[crimsonslytherin]

I’ll Be Your Reason - Chapter 14

(First) - (Previous)  

Words: 4334

A/N: Please Note I used some parts from the book.

The early morning of his birthday, about an hour after he’d turned 13, Harry leaned on the sill of his open bedroom window to look up at the night sky. He’d been working on one of the essays that had been assigned over the summer. Harry was only able to work on his homework really late at night or with Fiona at her house. The Dursley’s had locked up all of his magical things – his broom, his books, wand and cauldron – under the stairs like they had the year before. Harry had been able to get his wand back within the first week but Fiona let him use her books so he didn’t need to worry about getting them back just yet. She insisted on him borrowing them but he didn’t want to risk her losing her books to the Dursley’s as well.  He didn’t mind having to go to her house to work on their homework, he was glad to have her help as well.

The night was rather quiet allowing Harry to hear the distinct sound of a backdoor open in one of the neighbors yards. He leaned out and looked to the right, towards Fiona’s house, in time to see her trying – and failing rather badly – at riding a broom up and over to his window.

“Fiona, what are you doing?” he whisper-shouted in amusement . Fiona looked up and grinned at him.

“Just a second.” She seemed to need all her focus to properly ride the broom. When she made it to the window Harry helped her climb through as quietly as she could. She leaned the broom against the bed before turning to him. “Happy Birthday, Harry.” She pulled him into a hug and he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly as he hugged her back. He did his best to ignore the evidence of puberty pushing against his chest. Fiona pulled away before sitting on his bed. “Ah, the witch burning essay?” She turned the piece of parchment to read some of it.

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed as he sat down on the other end of the bed. “Still bad at flying?” Fiona stuck her tongue out at him.

“I’m not a star Quidditch player like some people,” she teased.

“I’d give you lessons if we didn’t live here,” he offered.

“We could always practice at The Burrow; any word from Ron?”

“He uh, he tried to call,” Harry started. Fiona winced.

“Oh dear, who answered?”

“Who do you think? I don’t think Uncle Vernon could shout any louder.”

“Poor Ron.” Fiona shook her head. “I’m sure I could send my father’s owl and give him my number and you could just use our phone.” Harry chuckled.

“That’s okay, Fee. Maybe Hermione since she knows how to use a phone.”

“Oh well I already have her number,” Fiona told him, waving her hand dismissively.

“Talk a lot, do you?” he asked, curious. Fiona nodded.

“Mhm, mostly girl stuff, you wouldn’t be interested.” Harry chuckled.

“Probably not,” he agreed.

“So, Harry, how does it feel to be a teenager?”

“Exactly the same,” he admitted. Harry opened his mouth to speak when three owls suddenly flew in through his window. Two of them were carrying the third which they placed on the bed between the two.

“Hedwig,” Fiona greeted one of them with a smile. The snow owl nipped affectionately at Harry as he removed the parcel she was holding. She then hopped over to the unconscious owl on the bed, Errol, Ron’s family owl. The third the two didn’t recognize but it held two letters with a familiar H.

“One for me and one for you,” Harry noted as Fiona took the two letters from the owl that then flew out the window as if it were on a schedule.

“What did Errol bring? Poor bird,” Fiona cooed as she stroked the bird’s feathers. Harry took the package and tore open the brown paper to find a present wrapped in gold and a birthday card. He opened the envelop and two papers fell out, a letter and a clipping from a newspaper. Harry read the clipping aloud, quietly, and the two learned that Arthur Weasley had won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw and that the family was on summer holiday to Egypt to visit the oldest son, Bill. “Wow,” Fiona gasped seeing the moving picture of the family in front of a large pyramid. Harry opened the letter and read it to himself.

“Ron’s getting a new wand,” he told her with a smile.

“I would hope so; I don’t think we’d survive another year with that one.”

“And Percy’s Head Boy.”

“Of course he is,” Fiona groaned as she rolled her eyes. “He’s wearing his badge already.” She turned the photo to Harry and pointed it out. He chuckled.

“They’ll be back a week before school starts and he wants to know if we can meet them in London.”

“Sounds fun. What’s Hermione say?” she asked as he opened up the letter from her, the one Hedwig had been holding.

“She’s in France… Her essay is two rolls longer than Professor Binns asked for.” Fiona groaned. “And that she’ll also be in London the last week of holidays.”

“That’s awesome, what book’d she get you?” Fiona asked. Harry snickered knowing well before opening the present could be a book but they were wrong. His eyes widened and a grin spread on his face.

“A Broom Servicing Kit!” he whispered excitedly.

“If only we could get your broom,” Fiona said with a frown at the bedroom door. Harry shrugged.

“I can always bring it to Hogwarts.”

“True. Speaking of,” Fiona started as she picked up the letter addressed to her. She opened it and scanned it over. “List of books, of course, and… oh I forgot about Hogsmeade-” She paused, biting her lip and Harry let out a sigh.

“Permission form,” he muttered.

“Maybe your aunt would sign it,” Fiona suggested. He put the letters on his nightstand and noticed the time.

“Two o’clock. You should get back, Fee,” he told her. Fiona pouted.

“Fine,” she whined quietly as she stood up. Before grabbing her broom she pulled Harry into another hug and kissed his cheek. “Happy Birthday,” she told him with a grin before carefully going out the window. Harry watched to make sure she made it the less than 20 feet over to her back door. She waved at him and he gave a slight wave putting a hand to his cheek.

…

The next morning at breakfast Harry learned his uncle’s sister would be staying with them for a month. Harry, with the hopes that his uncle would sign the permission form, sent Hedwig to Fiona’s and informed her of the situation. For a whole week she couldn’t sneak into his room and he couldn’t go over to her house either. Her father had offered that he could stay at their house for the week but Harry knew his only chance at getting the form signed was to stay.

“Hey, if you need an escape our door’s always open to you,” Jonathan told him when he came over with Hedwig’s cage. He decided for the hour while his uncle went to the train station that he’d spend time with Fiona. They sat outside on the curb, Grimm lying in the sun between them.

“I can always perform a rescue mission if you need me to,” Fiona suggested. “I can be very charming.” Harry chuckled but shook his head. “Alright.” She held up her hands. “But hey, if you need to talk later I’ll be down at the playground. It’s actually quite peaceful after sunset.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

…

Fiona was sitting on one of the swings with Grimm lying on her lap when she heard screaming in the distance. She turned and looked up to see a round object floating up from the houses.

“Oh dear,” she muttered before she looked down at Grimm. “I guess Harry’s joining us after all, boy.” The cat meowed and climbed up into her arms as she stood. A few minutes later she saw Harry storming down the street pulling his trunk behind him. “Harry?” she called as she walked over. Grimm jumped out of her arms, more comfortable walking next to her as she began to jog over to him. “That’s you’re doing then?” she asked before glancing up at screaming the dot in the sky.

“She insulted my parents!” he growled out as he stopped, he was almost out of breath, huffing in anger.

“Hey, I would’ve done the same thing,” Fiona said. “But, Harry…”

“I know I know,” Harry said. “I did magic outside of school.”

“I’m sure they can just erase her memory and everything will be alright,” Fiona said.

“Let’s hope so,” Harry said. He pulled his suitcase over to the sidewalk and laid it down before sitting down himself. Fiona sat beside him and Grimm jumped up onto Harry’s suitcase. Harry pet the cat idly as Fiona leaned against him.

“You could stay with us,” she offered.

“I can’t. I can’t be near them or that house.”

“I get it,” Fiona said with a nod. “You could always stay at the Leaky Cauldron. Ron and Hermione will be there in two weeks. I could come and keep you company,” she suggested, suddenly excited. “It’ll be like a sleepover!” Harry chuckled and was glad any colour on his cheeks was hidden in the dark.

“How am I going to get there though?” he asked.

“The Knight Bus.”

“Night bus?”

“Mhm, it comes to stranded witches and wizards wherever they are and takes them wherever they need to be.”

“The magical world still amazes me,” he said with a grin. Fiona hummed in agreement. The two sat there in silence, Fiona leaned her head on his shoulder as Harry continued to pet Grimm. Fiona felt Harry shift uncomfortably and sat up.

“Do you want to ride the swings like we used to?” she asked with a smile as she took his hand and stood. “I’ll push you.” Harry started to smile back when suddenly the streetlamp above them started flickering. The wind picked up and they heard creaking metal. They turned and saw the playground parts moving. Grimm suddenly hissed and the two heard the cracking of twigs in front of them. They stood as they saw a large black dog on the other side of the street. “Harry.” Fiona took out her wand and went to move in front of Harry.

“Stay behind me,” he said as he took out his wand, held out his arm to block her and push her behind him. The dog barked making Harry stumble back and trip over his trunk. Fiona stumbled back as well but didn’t fall back. Suddenly a horn sounded and headlights shined on them as a triple-decker purple bus drove up before it hissed to a halt. Standing on the back door was Stan Shunpike, an 18- year-old boy in a wrinkled conductor’s uniform. He had a pasty face, raccoon eyes and looked like he hasn't seen the sun in years. He read from a crumbled paper.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus,” he said drearily. “Emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike,” He pointed to his name tag. “and I will be your conductor this evening.” He put his paper in his pocket before he peered down at Harry. “Wha' choo doin' down there?”

“I fell over,” Harry said.

“Wha' choo fall over for?”

“I didn't do it on purpose,” Harry said as Fiona helped him up. Stan eyed Harry suspiciously and nodded slowly.

“Well, come on then. Let's not wait for the grass to grow,” Stan said. Harry and Fiona glanced around the bus to the bushes where the dog had been but it was nowhere to be seen. Stan peeked around as well.

“Wha’ choo lookin’ at?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said.

“Well, come on, then. In.” Harry went to get his trunk but Stan was already getting it. “No, no, no. I’ll get this. You two get in.” Fiona took Harry’s hand and they got onto the bus. Inside there were no seats but a few beds, in one was a sleeping wizard. The two moved past the bed as Stan struggled with Harry’s trunk. As the two reached the middle Harry looked up to see a large chandelier. Behind them Stan had gotten Harry’s trunk in and was now walking behind them. “Come on. Move on, move on, move on.” The two hurried towards the front of the bus. They moved in front of the last bed and Stan stood in front of them. The little machine around his neck spit out two tickets. He ripped them from the machine before handing them to the two. Stan knocked on the glass behind him. “Take ‘er away, Ern.” Behind the wheel sat Ernie, an unshaven wizard with very thick glasses. A shrunken head hung from the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, take it away, Ernie!” it said. Ernie took a bite from a sandwich before switching gears. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride,” The head said before cackling. The bus rocketed away and all the beds slid back. Harry and Fiona fell back onto the one closest to them. Grimm screeched and dug his claws into the middle bed. The two looked up at the chandelier swaying directly above them before the beds moved back.

“Wot you say your names were again?” Stan asked.

“We didn't,” Harry said as the two held onto the bed.

“Whereabouts you headin'?”

“The Leaky Cauldron!” Fiona told him.

“That’s in London,” Harry added.

“You hear that, Ern? ‘The Leaky Cauldron. That’s in London,’” Stan said, clearly amused. The head laughed.

“The Leaky Cauldron. If you have the pea soup make sure you eat it before it eats you,” It said before laughing. Harry looked out the window watching London careering by.

“But the Muggles. Can’t they see us?” Harry asked.

“Muggles?” Stan asked. “They don’t see nothing, do they?”

“No, but if you jab them with a fork, they feel,” the head said before cackling some more. “Ernie, little old lady at 12 o’clock!” The bus came to a sudden stop to avoid the lady crossing the street and Harry and Fiona went flying. Harry into the window and Fiona into him, she quickly moved back a bit to give him room.

“Are you okay?” Fiona asked but Harry was distracted by the head counting down.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three and a half, two, one and three quarters. Yes!” The bus took off again sending the two onto the bed, this time Harry on top of Fiona.

“Sorry!” He quickly got off of her and looked up to see the Daily Prophet Stan was reading. The headline read ‘escape from Azkaban!’ below was a moving picture of a shrunken-faced man with long, matted hair, screaming. “Who is that?” he asked. “That man?” Stan sighed and closed the paper to look at the front.

“Who is that? Who is-?” Stan turned the paper to them. “That's Sirius Black, that is. Don' tell me you ne'er been hearin' o' Sirius Black?” The two shook their heads.   “He’s a murderer. Got 'imself locked up in Azkaban for it.”

“How'd he escape?”

“Well, tha's the question, isn't it? He's the firs' that's done it! He was a big supporter of… You- Know-'Oo, Black was. I reckon you heard o' him.”

“Yeah. Him I’ve heard of,” Harry said.

“Ernie, two double deckers at 12 o’clock,” the head said. “They’re getting closer, Enrie. Ernie, they’re right on top of us!” Ernie slammed two pedals and pulled a gear. The bus slowed down as it approached the two red buses. Earnie pulled down something. “Mind your head.” Suddenly the bus was squished together to fit between the buses. “Hey guys!” the head laughed. “Guys! Why the long faces?” it asked before laughing. The bus un-squished and Harry and Fiona let out sighs of relief. The bus rocketed away as soon as it could. “Yeah, yeah. Nearly there, nearly there.” The bus turned a corner and slammed on the breaks again sending the two teenagers flying once more into the window, Fiona face first then Harry next to her. The bus nudged a car’s bumper and the car alarm wailed.

“The Leaky Cauldron,” Stan said as Harry and Fiona pulled themselves away from the window.

“Ow…” Fiona whimpered as she rubbed her forehead.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked. Fiona nodded.

“Next stop, Knockturn Alley,” The head said. The two turned to see the inn keeper, Tom, get on the bus.

“Ah, Mr. Potter and Miss Gaunt... at last.” He grabbed Harry’s suitcase and pulled it off the bus before he waited for the two to get off. Fiona picked up Grimm, with some difficulty seeing as the cat’s claws were dug into the bed he was on.

“Come on, Grimm. We’re getting off, now.” The cat gladly let go and Fiona followed after Tom. Harry and Fiona got off the bus and followed Tom into the pub then up the stairs.

“Miss Gaunt, room 17 is open to you.” He held out a set of keys. “Your father was made aware of the situation and all you’re things are inside waiting for you.” He turned to Harry. “Someone wishes to speak with you Mr. Potter.” Harry nodded and turned to Fiona.

“Thank you,” Fiona said giving Tom a big smile. “Goodnight Harry.”

“Goodnight,” Harry said before Fiona went down the hall and into her room. She found her trunk all packed at the foot of the bed as well as all the required books stacked up on a nearby table with a letter perched on top.

 Fiona

 I wish you would have come home to tell us about your impromptu adventure into London with Harry but seeing the blimp of a woman flying from his house I realize there wasn’t time. I informed the Minister of Magic that the situation was dealt with – the woman is back to normal and her memory of the event was erased. Unfortunately I couldn’t fix Harry’s Aunt and Uncle’s memories seeing as they already know. No doubt he’s speaking with Harry as you read this, you’ll have to stay within Diagon Alley but you’ll be free to go where you wish there. In your trunk I’ve included some spending money, obviously don’t worry about your school books.

 Love Mum & Dad

Fiona smiled down at the letter before looking through the pile of books. She noticed the Care of Magical Creature’s book, if one could call it a book, The Monster Book of Monsters. It was growling softly as if it was sleeping. She knew her set of books would be the exact same as Harry’s since they picked all the same classes at the end of their second year.

Grimm jumped up onto the bed and curled up. Fiona double checked that her luggage and books were all accounted for before changing and going to bed.

…

The next morning Fiona left Grimm asleep on the bed before going to out into the hall to find Harry’s room. She didn’t need to ask which one it was either, she could hear the book inside. Fiona went to knock and heard a thud then a squeal. She knocked on the door.

“Harry?”

“C-Come in!” he called. Fiona came in to see him standing on the book, with one shoe on. “M-Mind getting me the-“ He motioned to the strap that had been holding the book closed. Fiona got it and Harry tied up the book.

“At least your shoe’s okay,” she said. “I was actually coming to warn you not to open it.” Harry sighed and gave her a look. “I’ll try to be quicker next time,” she said with a slight giggle.

“Laugh it up,” he said shaking his head but smiling as he put his shoe back on.

“Shall we get breakfast, then?” Fiona asked. Harry nodded and grabbed a sweatshirt.

…

“I knew you wouldn’t get expelled,” she told him with a grin as they sat at the table before ordering breakfast. “Dad bought all my books already.” Harry nodded.

“Mine were all in my room as well.”

“Well, after breakfast, what do you want to do first?”

“Ah, well, I need to go to Gringotes first,” Harry started. “Then…”

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t buy every shiny thing.” Harry frowned in confusion. “Hagrid told me one time you wanted to buy a gold cauldron first year.” Harry chuckled as he remembered.

“Imagine Snape’s face; he already didn’t like me that first class.”

“How about we stop by that Quidditch store?”

“Sure, though if we run into Oliver you’re charming our way out.”

“Agreed.”

  _________________________

The two spent the next two weeks window shopping, occasionally buying things though nothing they didn’t need or anything too fancy. More than once Fiona had to pull Harry out of a store. They ended up seeing a few students doing their shopping like Dean and Seamus in the Quidditch shop, where they thankfully never ran into Oliver. They saw Neville outside Flourish and Blotts but they didn’t stop and chat for fear of upsetting the boy’s grandmother. They saw other students they didn’t know the names of, from other houses, and obvious first years.

In the back of her mind Fiona was keeping an eye out for someone. Harry would notice her looking around when they stopped to get a bite to eat or when they walked out of a shop. He didn’t question it; he figured she was just looking for anyone they knew since he was on the lookout for any sign of Ron and Hermione.

It was the last day before term, they both left their rooms and stopped in surprise as a rat ran passed them followed by an orange cat. Grimm simply licked his paw as if it was beneath him to chase such a thing. The two walked out to the stop of the stairs and heard Ron.

“I’m warning you, Hermione! Keep that bloody beast of yours away from Scabbers, or I’ll turn it into a tea cozy.”

“He's a cat, Ronald! What do you expect? It's in his nature,” Hermione said. As Harry and Fiona reached the bottom of the stairs they found Ron protectively cradling Scabbers, while Hermione did her best to restrain a hissing Crookshanks.

“A cat! Is that what they told you? Looks more like a pig with hair if you ask me.”

“That's rich coming from the owner of that smelly old shoe brush.” Harry and Fiona grinned down at the two. “It's all right, Crookshanks. You just ignore the mean little boy…” Hermione cooed to her cat. Ron looked up to see the two on the stairs.

“Harry,” Ron said. Hermione turned to see them.

“Fiona,” she said with a smile.

“And Grimm,” Ron said. “A cat who doesn’t try to kill Scabbers every time he sees him.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

The four moved to the large table in the middle of the room, the boys on one side and the girls on the other, each girl holding her cat. Ron showed Harry and Fiona the newspaper clipping with his family’s vacation photo on it.

“Egypt! What's it like?” Harry asked.

“Brilliant. Loads of old stuff. Mummies, tombs . Even Scabbers enjoyed himself.”

“You know, the Egyptians used to worship cats,” Hermione said.

“Yeah. Along with the dung beetle,” Ron said.

“Not flashing that clipping about again, are you, Ron?” George asked as he and Fred walked over. George took the clipping from him.

“I haven’t shown anyone,” Ron said.

“No, not a soul!” Fred said as the two made their way around the table. “Not unless you count Tom,”

“The day maid,”

“The night maid,”

“The cook,”

“The bloke that came to fix the toilet,”

“And the wizard from Belgium,” George finished before the two sat down.

“Good morning, Fiona,” The twins said in unison as they smiled at the girl.

“Good morning, Forge, Gred,” Fiona said making the two grin before they turned their attention to the clipping.

“Harry!” Mrs. Weasley said as she headed over. Harry stood.

“Mrs. Weasley!”

“Good to see you dear.”

“Good to see you too,” Harry said.

“Oh Fiona! Good to see you’re doing well too, dear.”

“You too, Mrs. Weasley,” Fiona said with a smile. Mrs. Weasley turned back to Harry.

“Now, you’ve got everything you need?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“Yes? All of your books?”

“Yeah, it’s all upstairs.”

“All of your clothes?”

“Everything’s there.”

“Good boy,” she said patting his cheek.

“Harry Potter,” Arthur said as he walked over.

“Mr. Weasley.”

“Harry, wonder if I might have a word?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah sure,” Harry said before he started to follow him.

“Hermione.”

“Good morning, Mr. Weasley,” she greeted. The two went behind a post to talk while the rest of the table started ordering breakfast.

“How was your summer, Fiona?” Hermione asked.

“Uneventful,” Fiona answered with a chuckle. “I can’t wait to get back to Hogwarts.”

“Me too! Only two more years until O.W.L.s.”

“That is what you’d be excited about,” Ron said shaking his head. Hermione glared.

“George's nose looks positively massive in that photograph,” Fred said

“That's your nose, Fred,” Ginny said.

“Bloody hell. 'Tis, isn't it? Take after your side of the family, don't I, Mum?” Fred asked making Mrs. Weasley lightly smack his arm. She sat down and a waitress came over with a menu. Everyone ordered breakfast and after a few minutes Harry came over and sat back down beside Fiona.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly.

“I’m fine,” he said with a nod but with a look that told her he’d tell her later. Fiona nodded.

“I ordered for you,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile.

___________________________

(Next Chapter)