Important Author's Note: THIS IS STILL A FREMIONE!

Based on the view count of Chapter 7 being about half what it has been on previous chapters and the review count being something close to just a third to a quarter of the previous chapters, I'm guessing a lot of people stopped reading this story. Kind of bums me out. I'm sure it's because they believe it's no longer a Fremione. Some of the readers even told me that it was a waste of their time. I'm sorry to hear that, but I promise, it is a Fremione. It always has been a Fremione and it always will be a Fremione. Just because there are complications doesn't mean all hope is lost. It'd be a pretty boring story if there weren't any, right? Please trust me.

In honor of my birthday today, I'm updating all four of my current WIPs. Be sure to follow me for more stories! :)

Chapter Eight

Sober again, to his disappointment, Fred opened his eyes sometime in the early afternoon. Used to sleeping only a few hours on a regular night, he wasn't able to stay asleep longer no matter how much he wished he could. There was a freedom in sleep that he never got anywhere else. In his dreams he rarely had to worry about anything. Sometimes, if he was really lucky, he even dreamed about her. Not nearly often enough, unfortunately, but when he could see her face and hear her voice even for just a few minutes he could survive on those moments for just a little while longer.

There was no reason to get out of bed with any haste. Crookshanks was already thoughtfully fed by Millicent while she waited in the kitchen for him to return home. Concerned that he might be in danger of nursing a rather severe hangover, Fred chose to keep the shop closed until Monday. He never did like to know that his employees were downstairs working while he was upstairs. Even though he paid them and quite well at that, he would've felt an obligation to work too. It was his twin brother who suggested they close up for the rest of the weekend. Evidently, George hoped that his brother would have a need to relax on Sunday. Perhaps he had been cohorts of Audrey's without Fred even realizing it. He did seem awfully eager to do his part in pushing Millicent and Fred together.

Just thinking about the enchanting witch he'd humiliated himself in front of just hours earlier made him desire nothing more than to pull his blankets back over his head for another few hours, days, years. How could he have been so foolish? He knew there was a very real likelihood that he would drink too much at the wedding. And of course once he saw Millicent, he knew that several members of his family would make it their personal mission to ensure they had lots of time alone. In a way, he supposed it was sort of sweet. They did love him. Even when he'd spent eight years being quite difficult whether he meant to or not, they hadn't entirely given up on him. He knew that was nothing small. Many others couldn't count themselves so fortunate.

For perhaps the millionth time in his nearly thirty years, Fred wished he had the power to travel back through time. If he could even just have a few hours, he would make certain that he was polite and cooly aloof around Millicent all through the wedding and the reception that followed. At the first moment it was possible to make an escape without being unforgivably rude, he would've rushed home alone. He didn't want to hurt Millicent. Not even a little. She deserved so much more than that, so much more than him. Multiple times she might have insisted that she wasn't upset, but he couldn't be sure that was true. Not really. How could anyone trust what a woman who was paid to keep secrets said anyway?

He thought it was after one or closer to two when he put his feet on the floor. There hadn't been time for a shower after he returned from Knockturn Alley. After his conversation with Millicent in the kitchen, he was so exhausted he almost didn't make it to his bedroom. Hoping it would make him feel just a little bit more normal, he stood underneath the hot water spray longer than usual. Just when he thought about plugging up the drain in the enclosed glass shower and seeing if it was possible to drown himself, he heard a loud 'meow'.

"You have the most bizarre timing of any cat, you know that, Crooks?"

It was said with a chuckle that the cat responded to with another 'meow'. Sometimes he thought they could speak the same language. Not that time though. Crookshanks sat on the rug just outside of the shower staring at Fred through the foggy glass. After several more loud 'meows', the odd creature exited the room. Perhaps years of solitude and self-imposed isolation made him a bit insane, but he thought the half-kneazle was giving him a piece of his mind. He wished for a spell that would give the cat the ability to speak English or for him to be able to speak 'meows'. Either one would work.

Feeling marginally better after rinsing off, he decided not to test his drowning theory. Once the water was off, he wrapped a towel around his waist and returned to his bedroom. Crookshanks lay at the foot of the bed staring at the wizard. Another sharp 'meow' came out of his mouth. There was a displeased expression on his whiskered face. Was the animal angry with him? He did seem to enjoy the attention bestowed upon him by Millicent. None of the other witches he'd allowed in his home ever got close enough to scratch or pet him. Or perhaps more likely, Crookshanks avoided them altogether until the previous night.

"Don't tell me you think I was wrong to run away too. You should understand better than anyone else why I did."

He could've sworn he saw the cat's eyes narrow at his words. In eight years of living with him, he still was surprised by how intelligent Crookshanks was. Before he found him at the Burrow the day of Hermione's funeral, he would've thought he was more of a dog person. Maybe he was, but he could make an exception for him.

"You can't be mad at me too. I'm already angry enough with myself for the both of us."

As soon as he was fully dressed, he moved down the corridor to the kitchen. Too much alcohol the night before made him a bit dehydrated. He should've remembered to stock up on hangover relief potions. When he pushed open the door and saw a vial sitting in the middle of the kitchen table and his older brother behind his copy of the Daily Prophet, Fred sighed.

"You know, Perce, some people might find it poor manners to just barge into another person's home without knocking or invitation."

"I knocked. No one answered, so I came in."

"Maybe no one answered because no one wanted you to come inside."

"Then maybe this mysterious person should strengthen their wards."

The two brothers had had some variation of the same argument countless times over the years. Never was there any malice in it. Fred would never admit it, but he liked knowing that there was someone who would come barging into his flat if he was worried about him. Besides, it didn't matter what sorts of security spells he cast on the flat, if Percy wanted to come in to check on his brother, nothing would stop him.

"You know, it feels almost like we just had this discussion yesterday, Perce. Are we so old now that we are just going to keep repeating ourselves until we die?"

"It's possible." Percy folded up the newspaper and set it down on the table. "Now we could take our time with small talk and niceties until we eventually meander to why I'm here or I could just come right out and tell you why Audrey sent me here. Which would you prefer?"

"Honest and blunt, please, but I think I'm probably already aware."

"Did Millicent come home with you last night after the wedding?"

Fred wondered if it was too early to start drinking again. Something told him that before the end of their conversation he would want a drink. At least he could appreciate Percy being straightforward and honest. None of his other siblings would be. Not even George. They each had their own way of trying to get the truth out of him, but the older he got, the more he appreciated Percy's methods.

"Yes. She asked me to give her a private tour of the shop."

"Uh huh. Sounds perfectly reasonable to me. All very innocent and above board, I'm sure."

Sarcasm was one of Percy's hidden talents that rarely failed to make his loved ones laugh.

"Nope. Definitely not innocent. She told me how she used to fancy me when we were at Hogwarts and I had to admit that I didn't remember her. She kissed me first. Didn't even make it upstairs. Just ended up right at the bottom of the staircase."

His initial plan was to give his brother enough shocking details that he would think twice about asking him about his love life in the future. When the opportunity came, Fred found he couldn't do it. He wanted to talk to someone about what happened. Maybe George would understand some of it if he waited until Monday when they were both working in the shop, but he knew he couldn't be completely honest with his twin brother. With Percy he didn't have secrets.

"On the floor? That hardly sounds enjoyable."

"Heat of the moment. You must understand that."

The hint of the smirk that appeared on Percy's mouth seemed to indicate that he did indeed.

"We were going to go upstairs to find a more comfortable spot to continue, but Crooks showed up. Ruined the moment. I didn't… I didn't handle it well."

"What happened?"

"She said Hermione's name. Here was this gorgeous, naked woman on the floor next to me and she brought up the one person I didn't want to think about. She remembered seeing Crooks with her at Hogwarts. Made a complete fool out of myself. Grabbed my clothes, got dressed, and ran outside into the Alley."

Though also tempted to tell his older brother what happened to him when he went to the pub in Knockturn Alley, he didn't say anything. What would Percy think of his story about the old woman reading his palm and telling him that he left part of himself behind the Veil? He would think he was completely insane. Maybe he would even break his confidence out of concern to tell other members of their family. He could be carted off to the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's. Not that he would blame them. It might be exactly where he belonged.

"Obviously you came back at some point. Did you speak to her?"

"Yes, she waited for me in here. I apologized to her for running and she asked me how long I'd been in love with Hermione."

"Smart girl. Did you tell her?"

"Yes, I told her everything. Even about how Hermione used the Time Turner to save me. She promised she wouldn't say anything, but she wasn't surprised to know there was incompetence in the Ministry."

Percy nodded his head. That was one point that he was absolutely in agreement with Millicent. Able to actually voice his concerns about what he saw in his Department, he did so frequently and at length. His proposals were public knowledge and every member of the Weasley family could sense when he was about to steer a conversation into a tirade about Ministry inefficiency. They didn't know what they would do without Audrey laughing at her husband and deftly moving him on to another topic without him even being aware she was doing so. The witch was worth her weight in goblin gold.

"Will you be seeing her again?"

"No, I won't. We only agreed on the one night. When I apologized again for running out, she reminded me that it was just one night. I'm too embarrassed to see her again and I wouldn't blame her for feeling the same way."

"Well, Audrey will certainly be disappointed. She was already planning vacations we could take together as couples."

Percy's grimace at the very idea made Fred chuckle.

"But better that she be disappointed than you and Millicent end up hurt. It sounds as if you were able to leave cordially."

"I hope so."

"Then perhaps there has been no real harm done. Audrey will just need to get over it, but I'm afraid she probably won't right away. I wish to apologize in advance for what may happen next."

He wasn't worried about his sister-in-law. If she tried to play matchmaker again, he could handle it. Thinking about Audrey reminded him of her bizarre behavior at the reception. There hadn't been an appropriate moment to ask his brother about it, and if he was really honest, once he started dancing with Millicent, he'd had other more pleasant thoughts to think about.

"What was wrong between you two last night? I've never seen that sort of tension between you. Not sure I've ever even seen Audrey unpleasant."

The reminder of his wife's behavior brought on a heavy sigh from Percy. For a brief second it looked as if he was about to roll his eyes, but he managed to keep from giving in to such a childish response.

"I have a new colleague in my department. Her name is Mathilda and she was at the wedding. Apparently, Audrey didn't appreciate me not mentioning that she's very attractive when I was telling her about her a few weeks ago when she started. I think she was jealous. She's been feeling a little sensitive about the extra weight she's put on since Lucy was born."

"What extra weight? She's as gorgeous as the day you married her."

"Do you mind telling her that the next time you see her? Maybe she'll listen to you because she doesn't when I try."

Fred was relieved to hear that their spat wasn't more serious than it was. Rarely had two people been so perfect for each other. Once he had all of the details he was going to get out of his brother, Percy excused himself to go back home. No doubt Audrey was waiting impatiently for any sort of news. She might have sought out her cousin for information but with their two girls still being so small, it was doubtful. Sending Percy out for news first made the most sense.

Alone once again, he headed downstairs to the shop. When he was bored or restless, he liked to go into the shop when it was closed to tidy up and make certain everything was in order. They'd made quite a mess in their rush to get their clothes off, but everything was back where it should have been. Millicent was very thorough while she waited for him to return.

His mind kept traveling to thoughts of the enchanting witch no matter how hard he tried to get them to stop. Was he making a mistake? They had fun together. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could move on from Hermione. It wasn't as if they were ever even an item. She didn't know he loved her. After eight years of mourning a woman he couldn't be sure loved him back, was he just being a fool to not try? No one expected him to be alone forever. When a husband or wife lost a spouse, their loved ones gave them time to grieve, but usually after a year or two they were encouraged to try to find love again. Why was it all right for a widow to try to find love and not him? He was imposing impossible standards on himself that made little sense.

"With the right amount of sacrifice, you could fix any mistake."

The words of the old crone came back just as clearly as if she was standing next to him speaking them again. What did she mean? Their entire exchange had been unnerving to say the least. Replaying everything she said back in his sober mind made even less sense that it had when he was drunk. He wanted to know what she meant about leaving a piece of himself behind the Veil. There was no way she could've known any of that. Was she a real Seer? He didn't think those existed.

Somehow he was able to keep occupied for the rest of the afternoon and much of the evening. His thoughts never travelled very far from either Millicent or the crone or Hermione. It was enough to drive a man completely insane. Wanting a drink to try to clear his head and maybe a chance to find the old woman again, after he filled Crookshanks' dinner bowl, he headed back to Knockturn Alley.

The dodgy section of the London shopping district wasn't so bad or creepy when there were other people about. Most of the stores in all of the Alleys were still open. If he'd chosen to be open that day, his shop would be as well. It was still early even if the sun was starting to descend in the sky. There were more patrons in The White Wyvern than the night before. Almost every single table was taken. He was fortunate to find an empty stool at the end of the bar.

After the barkeep poured him a glass of fire whiskey, Fred began a careful look around the busy room. No one would appreciate being stared at, but the clientele that frequented a Knockturn Alley pub was even less inclined to be friendly about suspicious looks. He kept his face as neutral as possible as he scanned the faces for the elderly woman. To his disappointment, she wasn't there.

"Do you remember me from last night?"

The barkeep nodded once. He was a wizard of few words for a stranger.

"Do you remember the old woman that sat at my table? The one who read my palm?"

His eyes narrowed.

"You were alone the entire time you were here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. You were talking to yourself. Thought you might be crazy."

"Oh, well, I suppose I was drunker than I realized."

Nothing that the man said made any sense, but he didn't feel like he was in a position he could argue. He had been drinking a lot and was under some emotional strain. Besides, the man was a bit frightening. He didn't want to get caught in any sort of altercation. What would his brother-in-law Harry say if the aurors had to be called? Taking big gulps of the fire whiskey, he finished his glass, thanked the man, and tossed a few sickles on the bar.

Outside of the pub he felt a chill go through his entire body. Even though it was night, it was still the middle of July. Was he getting sick? Maybe that's why he imagined that he saw and spoke to the old woman. There had to be a logical explanation for the experience. When he turned towards the exit of Knockturn Alley, a gust of wind blew into him from behind. Spinning around quickly, he caught a glimpse of a figure staring at him further back in the Alley.

He knew he wasn't hallucinating. The old woman from the pub smiled. As long as he lived he would remember what she looked like. Their encounter the night before had been too unnerving. Without giving it much thought, he sped up his steps in her direction. At about fifty meters from her, she turned her back to him. She moved deeper into the Alley. Fred followed.

If he was thinking clearly, he would've known he was being foolish. No place was completely safe in the wizarding world from those who used dark magic, but going deeper and deeper into Knockturn Alley was dangerous. There were people who would see the red of his hair and want to kill him for no other reason. His family was the most notorious of blood traitor families. She very well could be leading him into a deadly trap.

But still he kept walking. Ignoring all of the stares he got from the ones who slipped into the shadows when he came nearer and the ones who weren't afraid. No matter what happened next he would get to the bottom of the mystery.

The old woman lead him to a storefront he didn't recognize. Fred wasn't certain that he'd ever walked that far into the Alley before. Nothing around him looked familiar. Whatever the name was above the door was so faded and cracked that he couldn't read it. At first glance the windows were dark, but when she pushed open the door he could see light inside. Seeing an opportunity to close the distance between them enough that they could talk, he ran the last few steps of the way.

One step inside the shop and there was no sign of the woman. How could she just disappear again? Maybe the barkeep was right and he was going insane. Was it nice to be a patient in St. Mungo's long-term care wards? He might get the chance to find out soon enough.

Creepy was the only adequate word he could use to describe the shop. Everything was dark and dingy and covered in a thick layer of dust. No one would just wander into a store like that unless they had a purpose. The shelves were stacked with objects that he didn't even recognize. Vials lined an entire wall. He got the impression that he really didn't want to know what was inside them. The Ministry of Magic should probably raid it at some point if it hadn't already. If there weren't loads of illegal items in the back room, he'd kiss an acromantula.

The shopkeeper was a short, bald man with dark eyes and old-fashioned robes. If he was suspicious of all of his potential customers or just Fred wasn't clear, but every step Fred took further in was watched. When he wandered near to the back of the shop, he saw movement out of the corner of his left eye. Spinning swiftly, he saw the old woman again.

She stood in front of a dusty bookshelf that stretched all the way to the ceiling. Books of every size and thickness were haphazardly stacked in precarious piles. Using her wand, she levitated a thin tome hardly bigger than his hand out of a stack touching the ceiling. Hovering high in the air, it slammed to the floor with a loud bang when she lowered her wand. Smiling once more at Fred, she disappeared behind another shelf.

"Wait!"

He stepped over the book she dropped to the floor to rush after the witch. She couldn't have gotten far. The shop was too crowded with junk. Following the same path she took, Fred turned behind the shelf she had disappeared behind straight into a dead-end. She was gone. There was no way she could've gotten out of there without passing by him first. He exhaled a deep breath. What was he doing? What was wrong with him? He had no explanation. It was time to go home. Maybe he needed a vial of dreamless sleep potion.

Just as he was about to step back over the book on the floor again, the pages started to turn. Remembering what his father always said about being leery of objects where their brain can't be seen, he stared at the volume, but didn't touch it. Entirely on its own, unless the witch was hidden behind another shelf he wasn't aware of casting a spell on it, the pages of the book flipped. Lasting only seconds, when it stopped, the book lay open to a page filled with tiny writing. Standing over it wasn't close enough to read the small print.

Against his better judgment, Fred picked up the book. It was a spell book older than any he'd seen since Hogwarts. Bound in a dark leather that was cracked and peeling in places, some of the pages threatened to slip out. Because the room was so dark, he used the tip of his wand to illuminate the book enough to read what it said.

He almost dropped it. His hands trembled. How could they not? In them, he held a spell to call someone back from beyond the Veil. The potential power that he held was immeasurable. Very dangerous and no doubt highly illegal, he didn't care. After the initial shock wore off, he closed the tome and took it to the front counter. The shopkeeper seemed almost relieved to sell the book. One galleon and three knuts hardly seemed a large enough price to pay if it worked.

Fred carried the book inside his pocket all the way back home. Fear followed him with each step. What if someone found out what he had in his robes? Would he be arrested? Or worse, would he just disappear never to be seen or heard from again?

He didn't relax until he was seated in his favorite armchair next to his fireplace. Over and over again he read the spell, practically memorizing its incantations and wand movements. He was a powerful wizard. With the right amount of determination, he could do it. A sacrifice was required to complete the spell. Not necessarily a death sentence, if it wasn't completed properly it would be. In order to bring a loved one back from beyond the Veil, copious amounts of something he had would need to be offered: heart's blood.