Chapters left after this: 2 (and an epilogue)

Chapter 39—Home

"'Happy Baby'? What exactly is a 'Happy Baby' party, Gin?"

Ginny immediately wanted nothing more than to fling the dripping paintbrush she was holding in the direction of her brother. She knew that voice, that tone he was using. Charlie wasn't genuinely asking her a question. He was out for blood; trying to get a rise out of her, she could already tell. And shit, it was absolutely working.

But rather than making a shish kabob out of her brother's eyeball, she decided to tighten and loosen her grip on the paintbrush a few times, counted to five, and then carefully shuffled her feet to turn in place on the top shelf of the step-stool she was currently perched on.

The look on Charlie's face only confirmed her suspicions of an oncoming taunt-fest he was clearly planning for her. He was determinedly trying—and failing—to hide a wide smirk, his lips pressed together as his cheek muscles tugged back in defiance, giving his face sort of a twisted grimace.

"What are you going on about?" Ginny sighed, dropping the brush into the can at her feet and crossing her arms.

"Well...it's just..." Charlie was already having great difficulty speaking. Ginny could hear him burying laughter between each word.

"It's your sign," he finally managed to choke out.

"Banner," Ginny immediately corrected him.

"Right, right, your banner..."

Ginny glowered at him before turning back around to admire her work. She was standing at the end of a very long roll of parchment strung up between the walls of the Treehouse. It read:

Happy Birthday/Engagement/Baby!

She felt her cheeks getting warm. What in Merlin's name was her brother teasing her for? She'd spent all afternoon perfecting the banner, ensuring each letter was identical in size and style as the last, and making pretty, filigree-style flourishes around the border.

"You know, if you'd like to whine," Ginny started, turning back to her older sibling, "you can visit the Complaint Department. It's back at the house, in the rubbish bins behind the pig paddock. You'll find yourself at home there. It's also full of dung." Feeling rather proud of herself, she flicked a bit of lint off the sleeve of her sweater and placed her hands on her hips smugly.

"Hey, hey, hey, no need to get hostile!" Charlie exclaimed, feigning shock and hurt as he backed up a pace with a hand over his heart. "It's just...alright, look." He pointed to the banner. "'Happy Birthday'. Fine, great, totally normal, Ava will love it. 'Happy Engagement'. Very nice as well, looks like the party is a joint birthday-engagement celebration, I can dig it. But...'Happy Baby'? What on Earth is that supposed to mean?"

Ginny huffed. "Well, I couldn't just leave it out!" she exclaimed, waving her arms around in annoyance much to her brother's delight. "If we didn't acknowledge it, it would look like we're having a party for everything but it, like we're ignoring it or not happy about it, and they'd be upset!"

Charlie raised his eyebrows. "Are there normally celebratory parties around the fourth month of pregnancy?"

"Mum!" Ginny shrieked, stomping her foot down on the step-stool, which wobbled precariously under her. "Tell him I'm right, tell Charlie to leave me alone!"

Molly wasn't anywhere near the realm of paying attention to her grown children bickering like toddlers. She was hunched over one of the long tables, eyes squinted and tongue pointing out between her teeth in concentration as she piped tiny icing flowers all over an impressive two-tiered cake.

"Listen to your brother, Ginny," she murmured absentmindedly, having not the slightest idea what she was even answering to.

"HA!" Charlie barked triumphantly.

"Argh!" Ginny screeched, and launched herself from the step-stool. Charlie's eyes actually widened in fear as she swooped down upon him, and proceeded to chase him around the room while threatening him with his life, much to the amusement of the rest of the gathered guests.

Meanwhile, a very different exchange was taking place down on the forest floor below.

"You know, we're already late," Ava said, her last word muffled as Fred's mouth covered hers.

He pulled back after a moment, grinning. "Think we'll get in trouble?"

Ava grinned as well, mirroring him. "Oh, absolutely. We're in for it. Lots of scolding." She intertwined her fingers with his and leaned back, resting her head against the tree and looking up at him through her eyelashes. She fought back a giggle. Who was she kidding? He could see right through her, he always did; her faux protests sounding weak and barely half-hearted even to her own ears.

"Right, best to delay it as much as possible then," Fred replied quickly, looking absolutely devilish as he leaned down to kiss her again. The clear and chilly afternoon, the quiet woods, the ground beneath their feet softly padded with pine needles and the gentle cooing of owls weaving through the branches above their heads—he couldn't help it; this place had always made him want to feel close to her. He remembered the very first time he'd brought her here, the way the emerald outline of her hand against the tree shimmered across her face...his lips smiled against hers as he realized he couldn't press himself up against her quite like he used to; her formerly flat middle was beginning to look like she'd swallowed a cantaloupe whole and had created something of a small barrier between them.

"What are you smiling ab—" Ava started, laughter in her voice.

But their seemingly private moment was interrupted by a sudden rustling in the cluster of bushes closest to them. Fred jumped and whipped out his wand; Ava took a step backwards and gripped his arm.

"Whose there?" Fred called out.

The bushes rustled again before a tweed sleeved pair of arms slowly rose in the air from between the thick leaves. Pale fingers spread apart in a clear gesture of surrender as the figure fully revealed himself.

"You going to curse me, son?" Arthur Weasley smiled nervously at the pair as he took a handkerchief from his breast pocket and mopped his shining face with it.

Both Fred and Ava let out identical heavy sighs of relief; Fred even swore under his breath as he pocketed his wand.

"Pardon the, er, interruption...what's wrong with you two?" Arthur's forehead creased in concern as he looked back and forth between Fred and Ava's still dread-stricken, white faces.

Fred was rubbing the back of his neck vigorously. "Sorry Dad, it's been a quiet couple of weeks."

"Come again?"

Fred exchanged a furtive glance with Ava before trying again. "It's been quiet," he repeated.

"Too quiet," Ava added with an uncomfortable shrug.

"We're kind of on edge," Fred admitted. "Sorry."

"Ah," said Arthur, understanding. "Waiting for the other shoe to drop, I see."

"More like the whole shoe closet," Fred replied. "We weren't expecting a whole lot of nothing after Fox..." He trailed off, looking at Ava sheepishly for a moment before returning his attention back to his father. "Anyway, what's up? Why were you crouching there in the bushes like a garden gnome, how long have you been—"

"I need to tell you something, and I don't have much time," Arthur interjected, quickly glancing up at the canopy of branches above their heads where the Treehouse was nestled, enchanted and invisible. "I'm not supposed to be here."

The very little remaining color in Fred's face drained. "What is it? What's going on?" He could feel Ava's grip on his arm tightening.

"There's a party," replied Arthur, oblivious to the stress he was causing the pair.

"A...a party?"

"There's no meeting. It's a surprise party. Well, it's supposed to be a surprise, anyway." Arthur looked around again nervously. "Speaking of...happy birthday, Ava."

Fred actually burst out with relieved laughter, and Ava dropped his arm. He heard her letting out a long puff of breath behind him. "That's what you've come to warn us about, eh? Like it's some kind of classified information you shouldn't be caught with?"

"Truthfully I'm hiding from your mother. Don't tell her I told you that," Arthur said quickly. "She's been planning...trying to make sure everything is perfect...she'd skin me if she knew I'd told you."

"And why did you?" Fred asked, a single eyebrow raised.

Arthur suddenly looked impossibly more awkward. "Well, I...there's just going to be a lot of...thought it was for the best..." He was muttering, struggling to string a coherent answer together.

"It's because of me, isn't it?" Ava finally spoke up. Her arms were folded across her chest tightly. "You didn't want me to be surprised?"

"Well," Arthur sputtered a little too forcefully, a blush creeping up his neck. "Too much surprise, too much chaos, bad for the baby, isn't it? At least that's what your mother always said." He avoided Ava's eyes and grinned stupidly at his son. Then, he began backing up rather rapidly. "Do me a favor, will you?"

"What's that?" Fred asked.

"Try to act like you're surprised. For me?" And with that, he pressed his hand against the tree beside him. It glowed a merry shade of green for a moment before smoothly catapulting him into the air, and he disappeared within the branches.

A few seconds of silence followed before an owl hooted from somewhere in the trees above them, and Ava sighed heavily. Fred turned around to face her; she was staring off into the distance and frowning while rubbing big circles around her belly.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked her.

"He just really scared me for a minute," Ava replied, still frowning and rubbing. "Baby's upset. Feels like it's doing somersaults in there." She looked at Fred and smiled weakly. "Maybe it's just gas."

Fred didn't smile back. He stepped closer to her, and brushed her temple with the back of his knuckles. "And what's going on in there, huh?" he murmured.

"I hate that your family is afraid of me," she whispered. "He only told us because he's afraid."

"Afraid?" Fred repeated.

"That I'll do something I don't mean to if I'm blindsided," she clarified. "Like, I'll blow something up, or someone—"

"He's not afraid of you," Fred interrupted quickly. "In fact, he's fascinated. Muggle stuff already riles the man up like a tot on Christmas morning; now you're a Squib performing advanced magic..." He trailed off and suddenly smirked. "Actually, he may be a little jealous. And proud, I reckon, that his very own son is the one who helped produce this incredibly powerful heir..."

"'Produce your heir'?! Oh, barf!" Ava exclaimed, looking at Fred with disgust. "What am I, your concubine on a mission to ensure your dynasty's future?"

"Dunno, do you want to be?" Fred asked, smirking even further and wiggling his eyebrows at her.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help it; she laughed and allowed Fred to take her hands in his.

"Listen," he said gently. "They're not afraid of you. I love you, and for that they love you too." He squeezed her fingers reassuringly. "But you can't blame the man for wanting to make sure you don't accidentally level the damn place."

"See—!" Ava started.

"Key word there is 'accidentally'," he continued, paying no mind to Ava's interjection. "We know you'd never hurt us. But you've got some serious juice. Really." He punched her in the arm lightly. "Try owning it."

Ava watched him for a few seconds before a slow smile spread across her face. "You're awfully proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"What about, you mean, with the sheer power of my lovemaking I've created the most powerful witch on the continent? Not at all!" He didn't give Ava a chance to reply; he locked his arms around her in a gripping embrace before reaching behind her head to press his hand against the tree. They were launched together into the air, Ava holding on to him tightly in return, and all Fred could hear was the sound of her yelling something mixed in with the sound of the air rushing by his ears as they rose in height. The forest canopy blurred by before his eyes in a swirl of greens, greys, and browns, and then it was over; their rapid climbing stopped before falling back down for just a moment and gently being deposited on to the cargo net.

They climbed on to the platform and hesitated before the door. The curtains on the wide bay window beside them were tightly drawn.

"So how good of an actress are you?" Fred asked.

"Not very good," Ava admitted. "I'm more of a wear-my-heart-on-my-sleeve type."

"Me too," Fred sighed. "Oh, well!" He grabbed Ava's hand and kicked open the door before them.

There was a joyous explosion of sound; a jumbled chorus of excited voices that Ava guessed were supposed to be saying 'Surprise!'. But to her delight, Ava didn't have to fake much of anything—the overwhelming sense of happiness and anticipation that was buzzing around the room quickly dissolved away any remaining melancholy, and she found herself grinning and stumbling in awe at the gathering before her.

There were more than two dozen people there; all of the Weasleys and their respective partners, children, and friends were present. Most of them were wearing fabulous party hats, and some of the girls were sporting beautiful glitter swirls painted across their cheek and brow bones with makeup. Dakota especially caught Ava's eye; he was wearing an American flag draped across his shoulders like a cape, with a dazzling white cowboy hat atop his head, complimenting his enchanted eye patch perfectly. Everyone whooped and cheered, countless rows of colorful streamers above their heads fluttering from all of the excited movement. There were some kind of enchanted party décor pieces floating near the ceiling and weaving through the streamers; shimmering foil fish, Ava realized, flashing their elaborate fins and changing colors every time they changed direction. The air was filled with the smell of delicious food, and Ava's stomach rumbled hungrily at the sight of the long tables crammed with countless platters of different dishes. In the middle of the room sat a small table in which a stunning cake was perched upon, twenty-three candles already nestled in buttercream frosting along the top.

Fred was being rushed by all of the men in the room; crushing him and jumping around him in a circle like a sports team getting hyped up for an event.

"We've got the legendary Fred Weasley with us tonight; he's going to be a Dad!" Lee roared as though announcing it to a stadium, his arms raised above his head. "And he's getting hitched!"

The boys took on a tribal-sounding chant of "He's getting hitched, he's getting hitched!" as they continued to jump around, and Ava found herself suddenly caught in a bone crushing hug. Dark red hair swung around and covered her face.

"Ginny!" she squeaked out excitedly, spitting hair from her mouth.

"Ava!" Ginny squealed back, and squeezed tighter. "You knew, didn't you?" she whispered.

"Absolutely," Ava whispered back, and squeezed her future sister-in-law in return.

"Hey, wait a second!" Fred's voice happily broke through the enthusiastic crowd. "What's a Happy Baby party?"

"Who said that?" Ginny shrieked, immediately releasing Ava. She stomped over to Fred, her hands balled into fists and began yelling incoherently. George, Bill, and Charlie stood off to the side, observing and holding on to each other for support as they nearly fell over with laughter.

The party was an exuberant affair and an enormous success, to say the least. Molly beamed as every one of her dishes was devoured, and barely even got upset when George began juggling meatballs and splattered the walls with sauce. Charlie had all of the children gathered around him in a corner as he animatedly told them a story about his latest adventure with dragons, even using mouthfuls of vodka and the flame from a candle to blow fire from his mouth as he imitated the beasts. Ron and Harry chased one another around the room, dueling with chicken drumsticks like they were knights caught in a thrilling sword fight. And at one point, drunk off of excitement and too much Firewhiskey, Dakota stood on top of one of the long dining tables and belted out the American national anthem while flapping the flag around his shoulders like a pair of wings.

It took a couple of hours for Hermione to finally get a chance to corner Ava and excitedly interrogate her about her abilities and magic use.

"I just cant believe it, it's brilliant, isn't it?" Hermione gushed after an exhausting array of questions, bouncing baby Rose on her knee. Her fist was in her mouth and she was drooling. "First you tell us Squibs can do magic by ingesting magical blood...not that that's anything to be proud of," she quickly added. "But now that you're sharing a blood supply with the baby's, whose obviously quite magical, you've got a permanent store in you, and you're...well, you're just amazing." She placed a free hand on Ava's knee. "When all of this is over, we'll have to reveal this information to the Ministry. It has to be studied, oh just think of the possibilities—"

"Really not trying to get locked up and studied by another government agency, Hermione," Ava said dryly.

"Oh—well yes, of course not, what a silly thing for me to say—"

"I know what you meant," Ava reassured her, smiling a little. "It's all sort of magical...well, extra magical, isn't it? Fred sure is proud."

"Oh, I bet he is!" Ginny exclaimed, suddenly appearing to step between their knees and reaching over them to grab a handful of seasoned popcorn from the table. "Like he's singlehandedly responsible for creating the next Messiah, huh?" She snorted. "You better watch out after the baby's born, Ava, or else you'll find yourself with seven spawns just like Mum."

"He's going—he's going to keep you pregnant at all times just so he can admire his handiwork!" Hermione exclaimed, barely able to get the words out, clutching Rose tightly as she rocked back and forth with hysterical laughter.

"Cake!" Molly's voice called out through the crowded room. "It's cake time; Ava, where are you?"

Ava grinned back at Ginny and Hermione before swinging her legs over the bench and making her way over to the center of the room. Fred was waiting for her in front of the cake table, bits of rainbow confetti sprinkled through his flaming red hair and wearing a wide smile. He threaded his fingers through hers as Molly lit all twenty-three candles with a sweeping motion of her wand.

"Make a wish!" various voices cried out.

Ava gazed into the flickering candlelight, smiling absentmindedly at all of the joy surrounding her, and seeing Molly's beaming face watch her expectantly from the other side of the flames. What could she possibly wish for, when she had all of this right before her? Friends and family to call her own, love, laughter, and magic, magic that wasn't so scary anymore, that was pure and good and made from love...and her life, she thought, finally feeling like she had a strong grasp upon it, no longer feeling like it was made of smoke and slipping through her fingers. What more could she want?

Fred rubbed his thumb across the top of her hands, and at that moment, their baby made a fluttering motion from somewhere beneath her belly button. She smiled, and not letting go of Fred's hand, leaned forward and extinguished all of her candles in a powerful, single breath.

Ava turned to the side and leaned against Fred's chest. He wrapped his arms around her and began rubbing up and down her shoulder blades while the crowd of attendants surrounded Molly as she began doling out slices of cake.

"What did you wish for?" he murmured.

Ava tilted her head back, meeting his eyes. "That our child will have an immeasurable amount of happy days, just like this one."

"We'll make sure of it," he whispered back.

Not long after, they were strolling through the forest just as the sun was beginning to set. Molly had pointedly suggested to Fred that perhaps he should take Ava out for a walk before it got dark; they had bade everyone a gracious farewell and were sent on their way with second servings of cake wrapped in napkins.

"So," Ava started thickly, her mouth full of cake, "what's your Mom got planed for us out here?"

Fred laughed. "You caught on to that, did you?"

Ava gulped down her last bite and wiped her mouth before smiling up at him. "She's not exactly subtle."

"She isn't," he agreed. "But she didn't want me to miss out on the opportunity to give you your birthday present."

"And what kind of present are you hiding out here in the forest, pray tell?"

"You'll see," he sing-songed, and grinned down at her as he pulled a strand of sparkling silver streamer from her hair.

"Is it a bear? I hope it's a bear."

Fred stopped his absentminded twirling and un-twirling of the streamer around his finger. "You'd like a bear? Hate to break it to you love, but the only bears in Britain live in zoos."

Ava sighed heavily. "That's a shame," she said in a sincere-sounding forlorn voice. "See, I had one as a child, for a pet, you know? Nearly everyone I knew did. It's a fairly common American tradition. His name was Arnold. Sweet thing. Walked on a leash and everything, but wouldn't use a knife and fork at meals."

"What an absolute savage!"

"Terrible table manners," she agreed.

"You're an awful liar," he teased, smiling to himself at the vision of a kid-sized Ava walking a Grizzly down the sidewalk.

Ava suddenly stopped in her tracks. The dusty rose tones of the sunset peeking out from between the trees were rippling up ahead, like the sky was reflecting on—

"Crater Lake," she said, looking up at Fred questioningly. "You've taken me to Crater Lake?"

"I have," he said, and began fishing around in the back pocket of his jeans. "Which means it's time for the blindfold."

"Blind—?" Her words were cut short as Fred swooped around to stand behind her and placed a dark scarf over her eyes, tying it in a snug knot at the back of her head.

"This is very romantic," she said sarcastically.

"Just go with it," Fred urged, staying behind her and gripping her forearms. He began to frog-march her forward.

"It's not like there's a choice, I'm guessing."

"Now you're catching on!" He swatted her butt, and she yelped and giggled.

It wasn't long before he re-directed her to veer right. They'd stopped dodging around as many trees, and the ground beneath Ava's feet was getting springier. She could hear a bullfrog croaking from somewhere close by.

"You're awfully nervous," Ava said over he shoulder as she continued to blindly make her way around the edge of the lake. "Your heart's practically in your throat; I don't think you've ever been this excited, actually—"

"Hey!" Fred exclaimed. "No cheating! Turn left again."

"Fred Weasley, if you dump me in this lake I swear—"

"Tempting, but that's not the plan. At least not tonight," he joked. "Up we go," he prompted, and nudged her calf with the tip of his shoe.

Ava slowly bent her leg at the knee, raising and lowering her foot clumsily. She was certain she looked like a fool, like a newly blind woman attempting to climb an unfamiliar staircase, until—

The ground changed. Her shoes were no longer sinking into the soft, muddy bank surrounding the lake; instead she found herself suddenly standing on what felt like an even, solid floor. The sound of a wooden plank clunked beneath the heel of her boot as she placed her other foot down cautiously. She heard Fred climbing up behind her.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice eager. He didn't wait for an answer, however; he gave a gentle tug to the scarf around Ava's head, and the blindfold fluttered down from her eyes.

It took Ava a few moments to realize what they were standing on—or standing in, rather. There was, indeed, a wooden floor beneath their feet, made of beautifully weathered, grey-toned planks, not quite nailed all the way down yet. And surrounding them was a wooden skeleton; the bare-bones beginnings of a house. Criss-crossed framing of where walls would surely be separated room from room, with gaping rectangular spaces waiting for doors to be placed. A halfway-completed staircase rose up past the framing and over their heads, and suddenly stopped, a lone stair hovering over nothingness.

"Ah," Fred said quickly, glancing up at the unfinished staircase that Ava was looking at. "Yeah, we haven't had a chance to start the second floor yet. It'll be along, though. Come on, I want you to see the fireplace!"

Ava speechlessly followed as Fred guided her across the space, stepping through a would-be doorframe and into what was surely destined to be a sitting room. It was large and rectangular, with a space for a grand Bay window open at the forefront, facing the lake. Standing in the center of the opposite wall was the aforementioned fireplace, made of grey and copper cobblestone, with a lonely chimney erected that rose up past the framing.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Fred murmured, staring particularly fondly at the hearth. "Me and George picked out every single one of those stones ourselves, you know, went to the quarry to meet up with some mining goblins and-" He suddenly paused as he tore his eyes from the stonework and returned them back to Ava's face. "You alright there?" He asked with a chuckle. "You're looking kind of winded, even though I'm sure you've only been standing here—"

"Fred, what is all of this?" Ava rasped out, finally managing to find her voice. Her throat was getting increasingly tighter, for some reason, like she was preparing to cry. She was looking everywhere and at everything but Fred; the unstained floorboards, the beginnings of what looked like kitchen counters in the next room, the sunset reflecting off the calm water of the lake.

"Don't be thick. You know what it is." Fred's finger gently caught under her chin and turned her face to look up at him. He ran his thumb across her jaw. "It's home."

"Home?" Ava squeaked out. Now her eyes were aching, and a tremor ran across her bottom lip.

Fred's hand didn't move from cupping her face. "It'll be ready before the baby arrives," he said gently. "My brothers and me, we've all been building it. And Lee, and Harry, and Dakota. Mix of magic and Muggle craftsmanship, that's what worked for the Treehouse." His small smile was twitching all around his face, like he was fighting hard to stop it from turning into a proud grin. "You look like you want to say something. Or soil your pants, or maybe just explode; your face is kind of looking like a corn kernel about to pop—"

"Stop it!" Ava cried out, swatting his hand away and taking a step back, but she began laughing with him. Her face finally released the tension it had been clinging on to and she found herself crying into her own open mouth as she laughed.

"Now this," Fred said roundly, letting the prideful smirk spread across his face, "this is a great reaction. Oh, I knew you would love it, but you're laughing and smiling and crying at the same time? This is gold."

"Fred!" Ava squealed gleefully, and rushed forward; he caught her and spun her once before setting her down softly. She hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks. "This is ours?!"

"'Course it is, I wouldn't be showing it to you if it were Percy's. Look, I want to show you something else." He took her hand again and led her towards the shells of the kitchen counters. "There." He pointed to a rectangular gap in the wall. "There'll be a window there, right above the sink and stove, so you can look out into the garden while you're in here."

"Garden? In the woods?" Ava leaned forward and squinted into the increasing darkness of the woods around them.

"Well, that's the surprise. I didn't bring you over here just for the bleeding window. Come on." He walked to the edge of the foundation and turned sideways, sliding his body through the framework and making the short hop down to the ground below. He turned and waited for Ava, extending his arms and catching her on the way down.

"Lumos!" he cried, pulling his wand from his waistband.

The tip of his wand ignited, and the shadowy woods around them were flooded with light. Ava could see what he had been referring to now; there was a brown picket fence setting up a moderate square perimeter, and most of the trees inside the space were gone. The ground was even, smooth, and rich brown in color, like it had been tilled and fertilized recently.

"See? It'll be perfect for a veggie patch. You can grow tomatoes and make sauce, just like your Mum did."

"It's perfect," Ava agreed. "But Fred, the trees—?"

He laughed. "You know, I know you pretty well. I knew you wouldn't have liked it if we chopped them down, so we just...you know, shifted them a bit. With magic. There, look." He pointed with his ignited wand and she turned; sure enough, there was an odd cluster of perfectly healthy looking trees off to the side of the house that looked strangely out of place.

Fred chuckled from behind her, and the wandlight went out. "It was the best we could do."

She smiled approvingly while still gazing at them. "I think they're very happy there, actually, happy trees indeed, might even be as happy as I am—" Both her words and her feet froze in place as she turned back around and caught sight of Fred.

He was standing very still, and his hands were gathered to hold something in front of him—a tiny box.

"Care to wager that?" he asked, and Ava had only just separated her lips to speak—not even sure what she was going to say; maybe to protest, or maybe to just make another nonsensical gurgling sound—before he popped the lid open.

She could have fallen over and fainted right then and there; in the minute second between spotting Fred before he opened the box she'd already guessed he had a ring in there, but she wasn't prepared for what she saw.

It was unlike any ring, or even piece of jewelry at all, that she'd seen before. The band was made of a rosy-hued gold and was set with dozens of tiny diamonds that managed to impressively sparkle even with the little bit of remaining daylight left. It braided around the shank, twisting together to encircle around a perfectly oval stone in the center; and it wasn't another sparkling white gem, it was—

"Violet," Fred said softly, unknowingly completing Ava's thoughts. "It's the sunrise, Ava." He stepped closer to her and didn't wait for her to say anything; he slipped the ring on to her left hand, pushing it to the back of her finger firmly. "The purple, in the sky...and the gold, the sun's first rays in the morning..." He trailed off and squeezed her fingers, flexing them so the light hit all of the jewels again and shimmered. "You told me that your favorite color was violet because it made you feel like the danger was over, and you were finally free to rest. You told me that violet made you feel safe. Ava," he touched her face with his free hand; she was crying again. "That's how I want you to feel every time you look down at this ring. Like you've got me, and I've got you, and you're finally, finally safe."

Ava coughed out another blubbering sob. "But...but I told you you didn't have to...you didn't have to get me a d-diamond..." She had no idea what she was doing, yet she knew how foolish she sounded; the excitement and happiness and surprise of it all were collectively clouding her brain and here she was, arguing with Fred about gemstones.

Fred chuckled. "Well, for starters, it's not a diamond, it's an amethyst. And yes, I know that's what we agreed on, but you know what?" He brushed another rolling tear away from her face. "When you told me how much you didn't need a ring from me, that was the moment I realized just how much you deserved one."

"That's very philosophical of you," Ava said in an impressed voice, her eyebrows raised. She even managed to choke out a laugh.

Fred rolled his eyes and snorted. "Oh for the love of Merlin; I'm trying to be romantic here, would you let me have my moment?"

"Alright," Ava said, grinning, stepping close to him, and resting her hands on his shoulders. "The moment's all yours; I surrender my silliness. You can be as serious as you'd like now."

He sighed heavily. "No, that's okay, I think my solemnity has officially reached its yearly limit. Come here before I start flinging mud at you." He grinned back before leaning down and pulling her against him, giving the top of her head a brief kiss before they settled into a comfortable embrace.

"Sorry for not getting you a bear," Fred murmured into her hair.

"I forgive you," she whispered back. "The ring's nice. And the house."

"Maybe next birthday?"

"Mm."

The side of her head was pressed against his chest, and she listened to the beat of his heart with one ear and the sounds of the lake with the other. The seconds spent there turned to minutes, and even though she remained standing, it was all starting to make her kind of drowsy.

"You know," she started, releasing herself from his embrace with a long yawn and stepping back. "I know why you picked here to build. This place." She gestured to the lake and surrounding forest. "I told you this reminded me of home. And that my parents would have loved it here. I don't know, I can't explain it, but when we were sitting on the dock that first day we came here, this place felt old...good, but old. Familiar. Like it had always been mine."

"And now it is," Fred replied. "Yours."

"Ours," Ava quickly corrected. She reached over and took his right hand with her left, and he proudly ran his thumb over the ring resting on her finger.

The time for tears, for choking, for blubbering and stuttering was over-there was a soft but bright smile inhabiting Ava's face; but she felt like it wasn't just her lips, everything was smiling—her eyes and their lids, her temples, her pupils, the pulp in her teeth, every hair in her brows. It was like a smile and the happiness that had prompted it had taken up permanent residence in every single one of her features and had no plans to leave, like the smile had built a house of its own.

Still holding on to Fred's hand with her left, she squatted down and pressed her right into the ground. It was cool to the touch, and easily allowed her fingers and palm to leave their imprint. She closed her eyes and breathed in the smell deeply: the lake water, the fertile gardening soil, the trees. It all smelled so familiar, so comforting, like an old worn-in blanket you trust to keep you warm on a frigid night, yet the adrenaline from the newness of it all continued to course through her veins. It was absolutely euphoric.

Ava opened her eyes and turned her hand over, smiling at the dirt that had settled into the lines of her hand. Then, she looked up at him: the man who'd had a wall of static and ice around his heart when they'd first met and now was slipping sunrises on to her finger. He was grinning amusedly down at her like he'd never seen anything so odd; this girl crouching down there in the dirt, yet so beautiful at the same time.

Fred was right. They really were home.

Ava heard the door to the flat swing open. She paused her stirring, frozen in place, keeping the spoon immersed in the saucepan. She was waiting for something.

"One," she murmured to herself.

Clunk.

"And two," she followed, smiling down at the stove.

Plonk. Thud.

"Hey crazy lady, I'm home!" Fred's voice called from the foyer. "Ava?"

"Oh, no, sorry, it's not Ava tonight," Ava called back over her shoulder, smirking as she switched off the flame. "It's a different crazy lady. Your other fiance."

Fred's sock-covered feet padded their way into the kitchen, and he appeared, still dressed in his cobalt blue and canary yellow shop uniform, his hair tousled and his freckles bright. He tossed a large parchment envelope on to the dining table.

"My other fiance?" he questioned. He looked confused. "I thought you weren't supposed to be here until Thursday?"

"No, no, no," Ava responded, sighing heavily. "You're getting confused. That's the night my other fiance comes over. Have we double booked?"

"We have," Fred affirmed. "Well, since the four of us will be here, the only logical thing to do would be double date."

"Logical, yes," Ava agreed thoughtfully. "And polite. I mean, we're not savages."

"Certainly."

"It's settled, then."

The two of them entered something of a staring contest; their eyes locked and quite serious. Both were determined not to be the one to crack first.

It didn't last long and there was no winner or loser; they simultaneously dissolved into hysterics, no longer able to keep up the charade. Ava wiped away tears of mirth as she poured the saucepan's contents into the glass baking dish, layering the ribbon-like noodles with a creamy mushroom sauce, and Fred came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"What's for dinner?" he muttered, planting a kiss on her ear.

"Vegetable lasagna," she answered, and spun around. She placed her hands on the sides of Fred's face tenderly. "Fred? I need to ask you something very serious."

"Oh God." His grip on her middle tightened slightly.

Ava took a long, deep breath, feigning earnestness best she could. "Are you...are you going to kick your fucking shoes off of your feet and let them bounce all over in the new house, just like you do here?"

Fred instantly dropped his hands, stepping away from her and rolling his eyes so hard Ava could practically hear them squealing against his brain. She giggled madly.

"Yes," he said over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hallway, heading for the bedroom. The vague sounds of the swishing of clothes as he undressed followed his voice.

"But you're going to mark up the walls!" Ava whined. There was an obvious note of teasing in her voice; truthfully she didn't care (much) yet she couldn't help but push his buttons. It's only fair, she assured herself, teasing him like this. He'd do the same to her. She pushed the baking dish into the oven and straightened back up, smiling and waiting for his response.

"I built those walls!" Fred called back.

"I made this lasagna," she argued. "Shall I burn the cheese?"

Fred's head suddenly appeared around the corner, a half-donned sweatshirt slung around his neck. His eyes were narrowed.

"You wouldn't dare."

"You're right. I wouldn't." She grinned. "Ten minutes."

Ava could hear the sounds of the sink running and the soap bar clattering around in its dish as Fred washed his face in the bathroom. She meandered over to the dining table and sunk into one of the chairs.

"What's in the envelope?" she called, her fingertips dancing across the top of the parchment curiously.

"It's for you," he called back. "Go on and open it."

Ava ran her hand along the seam, flipping open the inner tab, and pulled out numerous sheets of drawing paper, arranged in a thick stack. She immediately recognized what the illustration on the top piece depicted: it was the unfinished house at the edge of Crater Lake, but it had been drawn quite finished indeed—there was a roomy porch encircling the front, the door had been colored in a cheery shade of yellow, clouds of smoke puffed out from the chimney, and dark blue shutters adorned every shining window. Someone had even drawn the surroundings; every tree trunk was textured, the canopy of leaves stretching over the house and the lake was a beautiful springtime green and housed bird's nests, and roughly sketched lily pads floated atop the water.

Ava lightly passed her fingers over the bright yellow front door, tracing the pencil's indentations. "Beautiful," she murmured, and flipped to the next page.

Fred emerged from the bathroom and came to stand behind her, and rested a hand on her shoulder. "These were the original designs for the house," he explained. "I had Verity do them, you know how she is with art and all. What do you think?"

"They're beautiful," Ava repeated. She shuffled to a picture of the kitchen, where the tiles in the backsplash were a warm, clay-toned orange and a windowbox growing herbs was perched on the sill above the sink. Next was the living space, the grey and copper cobblestone fireplace accented with a light blue hearth rug and adorned with tiny family photos and mementos spread across the mantle. "Gorgeous."

"Aren't they?" Fred agreed. "'Course they're just rough sketches, if you don't care for a certain color or whatnot it's no trouble at all, they're just ideas—what's wrong?"

It took Ava a moment to react; she was staring absentmindedly at a picture, passing her thumb back and forth over the parchment. "Hm?" She jumped. "Nothing."

"Hey." Fred's hand left her shoulder, and he walked around the side of the table, pulling a chair out for himself and settling down into it. "Don't give me that. What're you suddenly noodling about?"

Ava took a deep breath, staring down at the pictures for another moment before looking up to meet Fred's eyes. "It's just...this, all of this, the house, the ring, these beautiful sketches...they're for us to be a family. But honestly? I can't help but feel like we'll never be a proper family and we'll never feel completely safe until it's really all over. Gridgeon...his last dregs of Merryweather...it's still not over."

Fred didn't object. He gnawed on his bottom lip for a minute before responding.

"You know, I'd be lying if I said that thought hadn't occurred to me as well." His face drooped with a twinge of sadness as he reached across the table to take Ava's hand. "What do you want to do?"

"We need to find out where they are," Ava responded. "Where the cowards are holed up hiding. What Zonko said, about Gridgeon wanting to start a war...it's still sitting with me." She rested her free hand atop her puckering belly. "I don't want to bring this baby into a warzone. Where it'll feel hunted."

"I have a feeling I know where you want to start," Fred said. He was looking down at the sketches, at the most recent one Ava had been gazing at before she'd started talking. It was a nursery.

"Sarah," Ava said quietly. "Well, not Sarah, exactly. Knox. He was with them before Zonko took him away, so he knows where they're hiding, he knows what they've been planning."

"But he's just a baby," Fred responded gently.

Ava nodded, the image of Knox's milk-chocolate colored eyes coming into her head. "I know. But maybe there's a way we can communicate with him. Maybe I can try, like with Zonko?"

Fred offered a small smile. "If this is what we need to do to end this and to make you feel safe, then that's what we'll do. Come here, you and the little lump on your feet." He rose to his feet and strode over to Ava's side of the table where he pulled her to stand and then pulled her up against him, hugging her tightly.

Ava buried her face against his arm, breathing his scent in, grateful for the gestures of comfort. She closed her eyes in serenity for a few moments before opening them again, peeking around the edge of his shoulder.

"Hey," she said suddenly, and took a slight step back away from Fred's chest so she could reach over him. She retrieved the sketch of the nursery from the table and brought it closer to her face. "The baby's room...you had Verity make it pink?" She looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

Fred blushed a bit. "I've been having some dreams," he admitted. "Dunno if they mean anything, of course, but...well, I think it's a girl."

Ava grinned up at him and squeezed his arm. "That's funny. I think it's a boy."

Fred sighed heavily. "You're probably the right one. I don't care, either way, to be honest. And look, I know people usually follow that kind of statement up with, 'as long as they're healthy, as long as they've got ten fingers and ten toes', but you know what? I think a sixteen-fingered child would be exceptional. Absolutely marvelous. A prodigy."

"Fred."

"What?"

"I think the cheese is burning."

Fred's dazed expression suddenly became rapt with attention. His eyes became round as coins, and he dashed away from Ava, into the kitchen, and frantically donned oven mitts.

"Oh, mercy, let the Gods have mercy!" he cried, throwing open the oven door. "I'm sorry, do you hear me? I'm sorry for wishing for a many-fingered mutant child, just please don't let the cheese be burnt!"

The boy didn't like to be held, or even touched, really. He was squealing and squirming and screaming in his foster mother's arms from they moment they stepped through the Floo.

"Shh, shh, it's alright, we're going down, shh." Alice Fabreaux was attempting to whisper to him reassuringly, but there was an edge to her voice—a subtle one, that came and went so quickly you couldn't be sure whether you imagined it or not. Like when you swear you see something move out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look, it's gone.

She and her husband Theo made their way into the Burrow's sitting room quickly, separating from their cramped space in the hearth instantly as though they knew better than to stay in such a small space for too long. Theo strode forward to greet Arthur's hand with a warm smile, and Alice hastily made her way over to the area rug in front of the squashy armchairs. Before she even got the chance to place Knox down on the floor, he'd started wailing.

"Arthur, Arthur, good to see you, old friend," Theo said, pumping Arthur's hand enthusiastically. "Molly, dear, thank you for having us." He tipped his tweed pageboy cap.

Molly waved her hand, like to say it was nothing. "Well, thank you for coming by. Here, Alice, let me help with the boy..." She drifted into the sitting area, heading towards the struggling pair.

"Theo, this is my son, Fred, and his fiance, Ava." With an arm wrapped around his shoulders, Arthur guided Theo to the edge of the kitchen, where Fred and Ava sat at the table.

Fred was first to spring up from his chair. "Hey, I know you," Fred marveled, shaking Theo's hand. "I mean, I've seen you before, with Ron and Harry at the office, and doing order stuff a few years back with Dad. You're an Auror."

"Ah." Theo grinned and winked. "Was an Auror, actually. Retired last year. And you must be Ava." He cleared his throat just slightly.

Ava jumped. She'd been distracted; still rooted in place in her chair, staring off into the sitting room.

"What? Yeah. I mean..." She rose to her feet, blushing and smoothing out her clothes. "I'm sorry. I'm Ava."

"Pleasure to meet you," Theo said, grasping her hand as well. "My wife and I have many questions for you!"

She laughed nervously. "I'm not sure how many I'll have answers for, truthfully."

"Mm," Theo merely hummed back in response. It was his turn to be distracted; he was no longer looking at Arthur, Fred, or Ava; he was staring into the sitting room. "Alice? Sweetheart? What can I do?" He whipped his cap off his head and turned it around and around in his hands uncertainly.

It barely took a second for the others' attention to be diverted to the same place. Knox was absolutely beside himself; getting increasingly irritated and inconsolable by the second. Although he was nearly three, his behavior was much like that of a toddler: he sat with his legs sprawled and a swaying, and an uncertain posture, like he wasn't quite used to his own body yet. His arms flailed and waved clumsily, and he cringed every time Alice or Molly tried to reach toward him with a consoling hand, his entire face crumpled and dripping with tears.

"I'm—I'm sorry," Alice said, sounding a little breathless, looking embarrassed and apologetic. "He's sometimes like this, but, not always...it's a bad day."

Arthur chuckled roundly, clearly unphased. "Alice, dear, I think you're forgetting—Molly and I raised seven children in this house, each doing exactly this no less than a thousand times. Why, we used to say, if our home had a signature sound, it would be wailing children." He jabbed his thumb in Fred's direction. "This one and his twin gave us the worst of it."

"Hey!" Fred exclaimed, him and his father exchanging looks of teasing and feigned offense.

"What's wrong with him?" Ava called, not paying attention to the mens' exchange and timidly stepping forward towards the sitting area. "I mean..." She reddened again. "Why is he crying like that?"

"Some children are a bit more...er...moody, than others," Theo said, coming from behind to stand beside her. "But Knox...well, like I said. We've got questions."

"I have something he may like," Molly suddenly offered, jumping up and heading towards the staircase. "I'll only be a minute."

Ava watched her go, and then she watched Alice and Knox again. Alice had brought a little sack full of colorful building blocks with her, and she was gently trying to catch his attention with them. She was raising each piece, saying each of their colors and shapes in a soft voice before placing them on the floor in front of him.

"She's really trying so hard to get him to learn," Theo said quietly, sighing. "We think he's running a bit behind."

"Come on, let's sit, tea is ready," Arthur announced, ushering Theo, Fred, and Ava back over to the table. They settled into chairs and Arthur passed around chipped mugs and a teapot, and set out a platter of biscuits.

"Should he be?" Ava asked. Although she was sitting, her eyes remained glued on the scene in the sitting room. "Talking, I mean."

"Well, we're not expecting him to open Scamander's Fantastic Beasts and begin reciting the introduction, but there are milestones he seems to be missing." Theo poured himself tea and took his time picking a few cookies from the plate. "He should be able to say his name...learn our names...name some colors, a few numbers...understand time and the concept of a schedule...you know, morning is time to wake up, the sun goes down and it's time for bed..."

"And he doesn't?" Fred's voice was muffled as his mouth bursted with Linzer tart, powdered sugar and crumbs raining down on the tabletop. He gulped hurriedly. "He doesn't do any of that?"

Theo glanced over at his wife and Knox, and then back to Fred. "May I be frank?"

He seemed to be addressing the entire table, rather than just Fred. At everyones' quiet nods, he folded his hands together and leaned towards them.

"As foster parents...Alice and I have had some really difficult children come through our door. But, as it turns out, they all have one thing in common: all they need is a lot of love, a lot of trust, and a lot of respect, and they all eventually come around. Knox, however, has been especially challenging." He sighed, but he didn't sound exasperated. He sounded sad. "I really don't think he knows his name, to be honest. He doesn't respond to 'Knox' anymore than he responds to 'Hippogriff' or 'Tea Kettle' or even a greeting, like 'Hello'. Time is completely upside-down for him, we don't think he's known anything of a schedule before coming to be with us. He treats us with deep suspicion; he won't eat nor drink in front of us, only in private..." He trailed off, staring down at the table before raising his head and finally looking Ava directly in the eye. "We need to know more, if we're going to help him. Arthur said you're the one, that you've been there since the beginning—"

"Oh...Theo, I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding..." Ava started, but Molly's sudden presence interrupted; she excitedly came down the stairs and burst into the sitting room area, brandishing what looked like a stuffed bear wearing miniature pajamas.

"This is Rose's favorite, I think he'll really like it!" Molly declared, and set the bear down on the floor before Knox.

Alice's eyes set on the bear and began to widen; her face suddenly became panic-stricken.

"Oh, no, Molly he doesn't like—!"

But it was too late.

Knox had immediately spotted the teddy, and his already upset face collapsed further. He let out something of a furious shriek, and extended his thin arms, making angry little fists in the air. The teddy then levitated into the air, and a distinct fabric ripping sound made everyone cringe as he magically tore its eyes out. They plonked down to the floor and rolled away like a pair of shining marbles.

The bear stopped floating, and when it hit the ground, the room was thick with an uncomfortable, shocked silence. Molly's hands were over her mouth, Arthur and Theo were leaning back in their chairs away from the scene, and Fred and Ava had looks on their faces like they'd just witnessed a horrible, gory accident.

However, the panic that Alice had just been wearing moments ago was gone, and instead, her face was eerily blank.

"Theo," she said calmly, "I need some air. I think I'm going to take a walk. Would you mind?"

"No, of course, go ahead," Theo responded, quickly leaving his chair and crouching on the rug beside his wife. He reached out to touch her hand but she rose to her feet and drifted towards the front door before he could make any kind of contact. They remained in silence again as she left, and heard her let out the first sob just before the door closed behind her.

"I feel awful," Molly whispered, her fingers still wrapped around her lips. Her eyes were shining.

"You couldn't have known," Theo reassured her from the ground, smiling sadly. He reached out slowly, touching a cautious hand to Knox's shoulder, to which the child immediately made a noise of displeasure and twisted away from. "Alice has been taking all of this especially hard. We've never failed a child before, and she keeps worrying we're going to make him worse. Damage him further. It's faces. He doesn't like things with faces much. Eyes, more specifically."

"Eyes?" Ava suddenly spoke up.

"That's right. We try not to make eye contact. We've even taken down all the photographs in the house."

Fred and Ava exchanged identical worried, disappointed looks.

"Ava," Theo started, but she raised a gentle hand to stop him.

"I don't know if I can really help you," Ava admitted. "I haven't exactly been there since the beginning, like you said. I was there when he was born, but I really haven't seen him since. I'm so sorry."

"Oh," Theo sighed, scratching his beard and not doing much to hide his disappointment as he watched Knox turning a rectangular block over and over in his little hands. "Oh. Arthur, can't you give us a bit more background, to work with—?"

"You know I can't, friend," Arthur said apologetically. "It's just the information, it's still classified, the Minister asked that we keep it quiet, until it's..."

"Until it's over." Ava had said it softly, and in a hollow voice. As Theo began comfortingly murmuring to Knox, attempting to play with the blocks with him, she turned to Fred and sighed.

"How am I going to be able to communicate with him if he won't let me look into his eyes?" she whispered hopelessly.

Fred stared past her, over at Knox and Theo on the floor for a bit while he gnawed on his lip.

"I have an idea," he finally said, and twisted in place to retrieve his messenger bag slung across the back of his chair.

Ava leaned forward, trying to see what he was doing. "I was wondering why you brought that with you here," she marveled. "I thought maybe you'd brought some work home with you."

"It's something like that," Fred replied with a wink. He rose to his feet, something closed in his fist.

Ava realized what it was right before he lobbed it into the sitting room—a MoSkeeter.

The tiny, dart-like object landed right in the middle of the bear's back, its point nestled into the pale blue pajama top. Knox cringed at the sudden action; the block he'd been holding fell from his hand and his lips parted in surprise. But before anyone could say anything, the MoSkeeter worked its magic, and the bear, blue pajamas and brown fleece fur and all, suddenly flooded with color. First, it was a neon green snakeskin print, then, electric pink and purple paisley. The patterns switched back and forth, merging and swirling with each other, their vibrancy glowing so brightly they reflected on to Knox's pale face like a kaleidoscope.

Since his arrival at the Burrow, Knox had cried, shrieked, and whimpered, but as he watched the bear's magic, he did something completely new: he squealed with delight.

Everyone in the room seemed to let out a collective breath they'd been holding.

"Oh, Fred," Arthur said in a hushed voice. "Son. Thank Merlin he likes it. I could have killed you."

"Love you too, Dad," Fred replied sarcastically, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. His face was slightly smug as he grinned crookedly.

"Fred." Now Ava was saying his name; she was still in her chair, gazing up at him adoringly. She reached over and squeezed his elbow. "How did you know?"

"I didn't." Fred shrugged. "But I dunno, what kid hates color?"

"Me."

Fred, Ava, Arthur, Theo, and Molly froze. None of them had spoken.

"Me," the voice repeated. It was small and on the precipice of shaking, like a teetering object that hadn't quite found its balance yet.

Their eyes shifted to Knox in disbelief. He was perky; his spine straight and eager as he craned his neck as high as he could to get a good look at Fred. His blocks were abandoned and forgotten upon the rug. His hands were resting on his chest, and handfuls of his shirt fabric were grasped between his fingers.

"Me, me!" he said again, and yanked at his shirt, the collar straining around his neck.

"Fred, I think he wants you to do his clothes now," Ava whispered in awe.

The self-satisfied grin had disappeared from Fred's face. His eyes were wide.

"Well, I can't exactly go throwing one at him, I don't need my bloody eyeballs getting ripped out and rolling around on the floor—"

"Go to him," Ava urged, pushing his messenger bag into his arms and nudging the small of his back until he took a step forward. "Hurry, before he changes his mind!"

Fred teetered in place, tripping over his own feet like he'd momentarily forgotten how to walk. He took a couple more minuscule, tentative steps towards the rug, pausing on his tiptoes to look over his shoulder and give his parents and Ava an unsure, pleading look.

"It's okay!" Ava whispered, and Arthur and Molly nodded vigorously.

Fred finally reached the sitting area, rocking back and forth on his heels before the rug like it was water he was debating whether or not to jump into. Knox remained sitting at his feet, looking up at Fred's height open-mouthed. His cheek flashed different colors as the light from the bear at his side danced happily across his skin.

Fred crouched down agonizingly slowly while pulling out another MoSkeeter from his bag. Knox's brown eyes followed his hands intently.

He settled down across from the boy, his legs crossed Indian-style, and held the dart out in front of him, like he was letting a suspicious dog sniff a treat before offering.

"Me," Knox squeaked again, yanking on his shirt. His voice was rusted and stiff from lack of use.

Everyone in the room was on pins and needles as they watched Fred lean forward slowly, and they held their breaths as he touched the edge of Knox's sleeve with shaking fingers. To their amazement, the boy didn't pull away, nor did he flinch.

Fred worked quickly, pushing the MoSkeeter through the fabric and looping it through the other side like it was a brooch. After he was certain it was secure, he retracted his hands and quickly leaned away, watching the boy warily.

Knox didn't seem overly concerned with Fred's close proximity. He was distracted; absolutely enamored with the dancing colors and patterns flashing across his shirt. He squealed in delight again, and patted down at his side to grip the teddy. And with his free hand, he reached forward and grasped Fred's index finger.

"Ava," Fred gasped. He didn't move nor did he turn; he stayed rooted in place, staring down at his hand joined with Knox's and marveling.

Ava shot up from her chair at the sound of his voice. It wasn't right; it was like he'd swallowed too much water and was fighting back a sputter.

"He's showing me," Fred said in the same tight voice. Ava inched to the side as quietly as she could until she was in view of his face—his eyes were squeezed shut.

"Showing you what?" Ava whispered. She was standing on her tiptoes, for some reason.

"Faces...places...things..." His entire face was screwed up now, scrunching around his eyes like he was trying to focus as hard as he could on the inside of his lids. "Everything. He's showing me everything."

'I'm going to tell you.'

'Tell me what?'

'Everything. I'm going to tell you everything.'

It had happened again: There was touch, there was trust, and then there was the truth.

After that, no one dared move or speak. Ava reckoned a tornado could have come through the house and they all would have stayed rooted.

They stayed there, Fred, Knox, and the bear with the missing eyeballs, a kaleidoscope of flashing colors. He was a broken boy, and he was desperately holding on to the only thing that had ever made him laugh—Fred—and showing him every last moment, every last memory, and every last one of Gridgeon's dirtiest, quietest secrets.