#thesty creates

Something in his eyes puts Fred on edge as he looks at the redhead, a sort of cautious desperation he’s never seen before. “I-I...fuck, Weasley, I wanted to, I tried but she, she wouldn’t—I couldn’t do anything, I swear!”

He’s babbling nervously, which only serves to heighten Fred’s nerves. “Spit it out, Draco! Why are you here?”

“It’s…” he closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. “It’s Granger. And the others, Potter and Ron, but...I’m here about her.”

“H-Hermione?”

Malfoy nods, running a hand through his already-tousled hair. “They were...picked up, by Snatchers—Greyback and his blokes; Granger did something to Potter’s face, I barely recognised him, but I knew, and...and I thought they would just, take them somewhere else, they would have been able to get away...but Bellatrix interrupted, she knew who they were from the Ministry and she—“ he stops abruptly, pale eyes shifting away from Fred, lips pressed tightly together.

“Tell me.” His voice comes out softer than intended, fear creeping through his veins threatening to strangle him, pulling the very breath from his lungs; it’s all he can do to get the words out, and Malfoy nods his understanding, meeting his gaze as he speaks again.

“She tortured her; Bellatrix did, I mean. Used Unforgivables on her, and...cut up her arm with a cursed dagger. I didn’t see exactly what she did, but your witch—she’s a bloody strong one, didn’t break even for a moment through all that. I nearly did, I wanted to jump in and stop it but she looked at me—you have to know, Fred, I would have stopped it in a second if she hadn’t looked at me like that.”

For a moment he can’t breathe, a heavy weight in his chest at the very thought of that evil woman’s hands on Hermione forcing the air from his lungs. Once it passes, however, he immediately jumps into action, pushing past Draco to shove bare feet into the first pair of beat-up trainers he can find.

“Where—“ his voice cracks on the word and he hastily clears his throat. “Where are they now?”

Draco shakes his head. “I don’t know; Mother bought me enough time to come here and tell you what happened, but they—the house elf, my father’s old one, he came and Apparated them away. They’re gone.”

Fred nods and steps forward, bringing a hand up to rest on Draco’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he says softly, “I know how hard that was, and how much you risked coming to me. Go back; protect your mother, keep yourself safe. I’ll find them.”

“Yeah...thanks, Weasley; see you soon.” He turns on his heel and Apparates away, leaving Fred alone to pace around the room.

“Dobby!”

A loud crack signals the elf’s arrival. “How can Dobby help Fred Weasley?”

“You took Harry, Ron, and Hermione somewhere tonight; can you bring me to them?”

Large eyes study him for a moment before Dobby reaches out a hand to tug on the sleeve of his sweater. “Come.”

The world spins quickly around Fred as they travel away from the small house, turning his stomach; when they land he nearly topples over, a wave of disorientation washing over him and leaving just as suddenly as it had arrived.

Looking around, Fred recognises where they’ve gone almost immediately, the stretch of the shore and gentle rolling waves familiar though it’s been a long time since his last visit. The whitewashed, shell-embedded walls of the house glimmer faintly in the sunrise, almost hauntingly beautiful, but it’s the figure standing near the door that draws his attention.

“Harry!” he yells, running towards the other wizard, Dobby completely forgotten on the beach behind him.

Hearing his name the bespectacled boy turns, green eyes widening as he catches sight of the frantic redhead. “Fred?! What are—how did you get here?”