The Curse

Marysia stood staring at the spot Bill had just vanished from. She felt his loss immediately and became acutely aware of just how frightened that figure in the window really made her. She felt Fred's hand as he placed it on her elbow, gently guiding her to the sofa, and sat down next to him. Unconscious of it, she moved very close to Fred and he placed his arm behind her. George, however, sat on the ottoman he pulled up in front of them.

"So what did you see?" George asked, looking at her seriously.

"See? When?" Marysia asked, unaware she was digging her nails into her thumb.

"At the shop before we Apparated?" Fred asked, just as seriously.

"Nothing – a shadow – a figure," she said, yawning. "You frightened me, reminding me about the Dementors and Death Eaters and all. I was just seeing things."

Fred, next to her, gave George an incredulous look, as if he didn't believe her. "You saw something?" Fred asked her.

"Someone was looking in the window..." she said, shivering. "The very idea of Death Eaters here in Diagon Alley frightens me, and then I saw a man in the window. I guess I jumped to conclusions."

"Are you sure?" Fred asked, concerned.

Marysia nodded. "Yes, no – I'm... just really tired, and I let my imagination get away with me. I'm sure he was just – shopping."

"Marysia, at that time of night, with everything that's going on in our world?" Fred asked, making it sound more like an exclamation than a question. "The only people on the street at that hour are shopkeepers going home or those who live in the flats above the shops. People just don't linger in the street anymore," Fred said, driving home his point.

Marysia blushed at his concern. "You're right, of course. But it could have been just a coincidence. He could have just been looking in the shop on his way home... I don't know why he frightened me so."

"Marysia, the man in the window, have you seen him before?" George asked.

"I don't think so... I'm not sure, maybe? Yes, no, I don't think I got a good look at him..." she said and tried to hide a yawn.

"But something about him frightened you?" George asked.

"I think it was... his eyes..." she said as a shiver ran down her spine. She leaned into Fred's side for comfort, and felt his hand rest reassuringly on her shoulder.

"Are you sure? You said you didn't get a good look at him?" Fred asked.

"I'm, no... maybe. He was... No, I don't think so," she stammered. "I'm sure I just imagined – jumped to the wrong conclusions. New flat and on my own for the first time... I guess I'm just – jumpy. That's all it is." Bloody hell, if my brothers hear about this I'm never going to hear the end of it. Little sister can't handle being on her own! she thought, admonishing herself.

Fred watched her expression, surprised that she seemed suddenly evasive. He looked up at George, his eyes asking. George, understanding the unspoken question, made the tiniest shake of his head and then nodded in agreement. "You're right; it's not safe to be out alone, especially at night," he said. "And with your shop still under construction, it's vulnerable."

She shouldn't be alone in that flat above her shop until we find out more, Fred thought. And the access to her flat is the stairs in the back... "Look, it's been a busy day. You're sleeping here." He hugged her with the arm he had placed behind her on the couch.

Marysia was torn, I have to go back, but I don't want to. I want to stay here, but I really shouldn't... "But I couldn't..." she started to protest.

"It's not inconvenient, and you're not imposing, so don't bother with all your polite excuses," Fred said, cutting off her refusal. "You'll sleep in my room tonight." Fred pulled her up and motioned for George to help move her trunk and steamer into his room.

Used to this tone of voice from her bothers, Marysia followed them to Fred's room.

Thankfully my room isn't too messy, he thought as he led her inside. He pulled his pajamas from his wardrobe and left her to it. As he turned to face George, he caught his twin's look. "She saw something back there that really scared her," Fred said.

"I know, but she isn't telling us what it is. But I do think you're right; something is up. Her dad stumbled on to something and sent it to her," George said; and then he looked at Fred's door. "You're being chivalrous, though?"

"A true Gryffindor! I'm going to sleep on the couch. I'll hear her if she needs anything," Fred answered back.

"Well, it's better than sleeping in your chair by the window," George said, giving him a knowing smirk. "So, you want to wait until tomorrow to find out why she's so frightened?"

"It's late. Besides it might be easier tomorrow to get her to open up," Fred said. "Things always look better in the daylight, as Mum likes to say."

"You're probably right, but we may not know what's up until Bill goes through this stuff, and that may take a few days. But think about it, I'm not convinced it's just the papers," George said. He stretched as he yawned. "Well, night," he said and disappeared into his room.

Fred could hear her moving around in his room as he listened by the door; then he went into the living room again and magicked up sheets and blankets for the couch. As he lay there trying to drift to sleep, he found himself listening to every little sound and was surprised just how many little noises there were in his flat.

He couldn't sleep; something wasn't right and he knew it. Marysia is sometimes very proper, but normally she is fairly open, happy and sweet. However, she is terrified of something, and I can't put my finger on it. George was right; it wasn't just the stuff she had shown to Bill. She had been more like herself when Bill had been here and we had all been going over those papers. But as soon as she mentions anything about that man looking in the window of her shop... but Fred hadn't seen anyone.

A muffled crying woke Fred up. It was very late, and he realized it came from his room. Quietly, he got up, walked down the hall and opened his door.

She was moaning in her sleep. Whatever her dream was, he wished he could see it. Her face was softly lit on his pillow, her long honey colored hair splayed around her face, and the covers had been kicked and pulled, which only emphasized her curves. She gave a soft moan and opened her lips; softly, she said his name, and then her breath caught; she tossed and seemed to wake, maybe not, then seemed to fall asleep again. As Fred stood watching her, she seemed to be having a romantic dream once more, calling out his name softly before crying his name out louder and then waking with a strangled cry, as if from a nightmare.

*~****~*

Marysia had pulled on her brother's pajama bottoms with a tank top and crawled into Fred's bed. It was soft, the pillows fluffy and not too flat or too firm. It smelled like him and she inhaled deeply.

He was being so sweet to her, and they had barely known each other in school. Well, aside from a few pranks and some teasing. She used to have dreams about Fred at Hogwarts, but had given up on him her sixth year. Especially after his incredible escape from Umbridge.

Now she was in his bed, and the dreams were coming back. Dreams only her closest friend knew anything about, but never the intimate details.

Suddenly, that face with the malicious eyes was looking at her, and Marysia woke, frightened, looking around. Nothing unexpected was there, no man, no sneering face, no malicious eyes. She closed her eyes, willing herself back to sleep. Once again the familiar dream started again: Fred catching her unaware from around a corner, Fred's smiling face as he leaned in to kiss her, a vicious laugh from behind her, then suddenly those malicious eyes were looking at her and Fred from the window – he was coming in the door! She heard his angry demand to come to him as shadows loomed behind him.

She mentally shook her head, a dream – it's only a dream, he isn't here.

She fell back to sleep dreaming of Fred again, his soft touch on her cheek, his warm lips, his embrace engulfing her... and then the black-cloaked figure reached out and touched her with a cold moist hand. Fred... No, he's, the harsh cold laugh... Fred help me. That face with the malicious eyes... No... stop it – him, those cruel eyes bearing down on her... Please, Fred, her mind cried out. Fred, help, and she woke, trembling, terrified. I'm never going to sleep!

*~****~*

Fred came over to the bed and sat down. "I heard you call me," he said softly. "Are you alright?"

"Bad dreams," she said, her voice shaky. "I just can't sleep."

Fred slid into the bed next to her and lay down, cradling her. "Ginny used to crawl in with me when she had nightmares. I'm a pro at chasing them away," he said as he fixed the light cover she had kicked away. Marysia started to protest, but Fred cut her off. "We are both in pajamas and the door is open."

"But..." she tried to turn to face him, and he had to shift himself carefully.

"I'll protect your reputation and keep the Boggarts away, I promise," he reassured, pulling her back down. It took a while, but she relaxed, as he kept his word and just held her protectively.

Cradled in his arms, she fell asleep. Her dream came back, but this time, Fred chased away the figure with the cold eyes and sneering grin.

Fred could barely fall asleep. This wasn't Ginny curled up against him. Her soft scent was a mix of flowers, meadow grasses and spice so subtle it made his head spin a bit. She was curvy in her tank and pajama bottoms that were so like his own that he could imagine that she was wearing his. She made little noises every so often, so she must be dreaming again. Only this time, at least, it seemed they were good dreams. Is she dreaming about me? he wondered? Finally, Fred fell into a light sleep, dreaming about the body he held against him.

In the morning, Fred slid carefully from the bed, intending to go to the living room. As he was closing the door, he stopped and watched her sleep a while. She stirred, cried out softly, and turned. The nightmare had come back, and she was moaning, "No... go away... don't... leave me alone... please, help..." between tosses. Something or someone is definitely haunting her sleep.

He heard George come from his room and stand beside him as they watched her in his bed. "Not exactly restful, is she?" George stated the obvious.

"No. She was like that most of the night," Fred answered, still watching her sleep, didn't turn to look at his brother.

"Except when you were in there with her." Fred turned to deny it. "Don't try, bro, I heard her too. I was going to do the same thing actually. But I saw you from my door last night, and she was much calmer after you went in." He gave Fred a knowing smile. "Her reputation is safe, and I can vouch for your chivalry."

"Something is bothering her, really scaring her," Fred said, following George into the kitchen and sitting at the table. George waved his wand, and the teapot filled with hot water.

"I noticed it too." George sat down, placing three mugs on the table, and faced his brother. "Something she said last night, or rather didn't say. I don't think the problem is just that stuff her father sent her, though. It's, like, something else has her terrified, and she won't talk about it."

"You caught that too? I was thinking the same thing," Fred agreed. "She was open enough talking about this stuff she's translating last night after Bill got here, but ask her what frightened her last night at her shop and she clams up?"

Just then, Marysia shuffled into the kitchen. "Morning." She stretched in a way that reminded Fred of a cat and looked at the two expectant faces. "Breakfast?" she asked, eyeing the pot of tea.

"Sure." George turned to Fred, and they moved their fists as George counted, "One, two three... Ha! Paper. Your turn."

Marysia laughed at them. "Mind if I? I don't get to cook for others that often anymore. It's kind of nice to." George got up and began to pull out pans and eggs, cheese, bacon and bread. She began to cook breakfast the Muggle way, humming, her wand sticking out of the waist of her pajama bottoms as the twins watched. When she finished, she walked over to the table with two full plates and one with a single egg on a slice of toast and strips of bacon. As she sat down both Fred and George were looking at her intently.

"How'd you sleep?" George asked. Fred kicked him under the table and George winced. Marysia noticed and ignored it.

"Fine, thank you," she said politely. "You? Jam?"

"No, thank you," George copied her with mock politeness, a bit exaggerated, making Marysia laugh at him.

"When do you have to be at the shop?" Fred asked. "It's our 'inventing' day, so we can go in anytime."

"Margaretta is coming with the products later this afternoon," she said, carefully cutting the yoke to spill onto her toast. "I don't have to be in until then. I have quite a few witches to interview this afternoon too. We had many applications. Most likely it's because employees are required to test and use the products. Auntie Annette narrowed it down to eight. I get to meet them and pick three, two full time and one part time."

"If we had that policy, our employees would rob us blind!" George said.

"Annie Ett's Bed Bath and Body Boutique is all about skin and hair care products, among other things. It's good for the clerks to know the products. It's a perk. Besides, the shop in Hogsmeade has very loyal employees. Auntie Annette's clerks have been with her for ages."

"So are you going to be in there at all by yourself today?" George asked.

Marysia looked alarmed, then calmed. "No, Margaretta will be with me today, and Mum said my house-elf is coming by. I won't be alone."

"You have a house-elf?" George asked, nearly choking on his tea.

"Not technically mine, exactly. Well, in a way she is, I suppose. When Dad inherited Uncle Michal's home and estate, Twink and Kennel came with it. Kennel is very old and Twink was pregnant when we moved in. I used to carry Twink's baby everywhere in a little basket, fed her, changed her. I even tried to dress her once." Marysia giggled at the memory. Fred smiled at her. "Twink had a fit and took Tobpi away from me, that's what I named her, but Tobpi wouldn't stop screaming for me, and I wouldn't stop crying either. Finally, Mum 'gave' her back to me. Everyone in the family jokes about her being mine. So Topbi considers herself to be my house-elf. Tobpi nearly cried the whole time I was at school. Mum had to give her tiny amounts of Euphoria potion when she had enough."

George laughed and Fred shook his head. "Mum gave Tobpi permission to visit with me at school a few times. I know that Professor Flitwick knew about it, but it was kept quiet," Marysia said.

"Marysia?" George looked at her inquisitively. "What happened last night?" Fred gave his brother a tap under the table with his foot.

"What do you mean? – Nothing!" Marysia looked alarmed.

"I don't mean you and Fred," George looked at his brother and kicked him back under the table, "I mean last night?"

"When?" Marysia asked, alarm in her voice.

"I think he means last night when we were leaving your shop?" Fred asked.

"So what did you see?" George asked, looking at and her repeating his question.

"At the shop, before we Apparated?" Fred repeated his question too. He was facing her, watching her expression carefully. She looked almost confused, and then a distant look crossed her eyes as he watched her.

"There was a figure... standing at the window... looking into the shop. I couldn't see his face... just his eyes." She shivered at the remembrance of them. Fred and George noticed that her face became impassive momentarily. "It was nothing, probably just someone interested in the shop."

"Have you seen this person before?" George was watching her reaction as her face became confused again.

"Yes – no, I've seen many people moving around lately, acting like they don't want to be seen... moving quickly between – the shadows... several times... he – in a cloak... moving around. No... he's probably just shopping." She shook her head, like clearing her thoughts, and then became confused again. "I have... no... I don't remember."

"What does this he look like?" George asked, watching carefully now.

"I, ah, a cloak... in the dark – his eyes... sometimes.... No." Marysia's voice was hesitant, forced; her face became blank, momentarily confused again, and then impassive. "Do you want more eggs?"

"Have you seen his face?" Fred pushed.

"What, no. Yes, no, I... can't... recall." Fred looked at her as if shocked.

"How long has he been hanging around Diagon Alley?" George asked.

"A few days... a week. Since I moved in upstairs... no... Three, maybe five days... no... I don't remember actually." She looked like she was fighting to remember, and then her eyes became glossy.

"Marysia, you've been involved in setting up that shop for two months now, but you have only been living here for four days! I watched you move into the flat. I have seen you every day! You have dinner right across from the shop!" Fred announced as George briefly smirked at his brother and then became very serious again.

"Marysia, has this guy been near you or your shop?" George asked. "Have you spoken to him?"

Marysia's eyes glazed each time she tried to remember anything about this guy, almost as if... "No, I – sometimes, in the shadows..." But she just shook her head, completely confused, unsure. "His eyes – just shoppers looking in the window, those eyes – are every... no."

"George, you don't think she has been hit with the Imperius Curse?" Fred asked. She was fighting some internal turmoil obviously.

"Could also be a Confundus Charm, but it seems so specific. It's like she's not supposed to remember this guy," George stated.

"Why would I be?" Marysia looked shocked. "I mean, of course I'm not! Why would anyone... to me?"

"Heck if I know? Maybe it has something to do with that stuff your dad sent you? I doubt it has anything to do with shampoo." Fred looked earnest. "Marysia, you have a great sense of detail. You're articulate and smart. But you cannot give us a description of a guy you have seen for the last four days, to a week, that has been following you and watching you wherever you go!"

"I have an idea, Marysia. I'm going to give you a drink that will have a simple Truth potion. It will only make you answer the truth to a single question." George got up, went to the sink cabinet and came back with a glass of juice. "Here, sip this." Marysia took several sips of the juice and immediately felt a calmness overcome her. "Now, tell me about this figure at the window of your shop. Have you seen him before?"

"All the time - he follows me everywhere." Her voice was calm, the effect of the Truth potion.

"Take another drink." Marysia took another large swallow. "Now, what does this guy look like?" George asked again.

"Shorter than you are, broad shoulders, he wears a hooded cloak, his hair is black, I think, shoulder length. His eyes are pale blue and very cold. It's his eyes... they scare me." Marysia's words had flowed easily, exploding out of her rapidly, and then she faltered as she tried to continue. "He has... a large nose, bent... like it has been hit before... hair on his chin..." She suddenly stopped, shaking.

Fred handed her the drink again, and wordlessly she gulped down more. "Has he spoken to you?" he asked.

"Yes – no, in the shop... my room... as I..." She struggled with her words, turned her head sharply; she was obviously fighting it.

Fred indicated that she should take another drink of the juice and Marysia took another swallow, but the glass shook in her hands. "He was in your room? What did he want?" Fred asked alarmed.

"Yes. He said... I'm... cannot say... kill... if I get it... he wants..." she screamed, jumping up to run, and Fred sprang up, grabbing her, holding her tight.

This time when he held her, Marysia struggled, hitting him. Fred pinned her arms, locking her to him as she struggled. "Calm down, calm down, it's alright." Tears ran down her face and she was terrified. "He can't hurt you here, Marysia. Calm down. I won't let him get to you."

"No, I can't... kill me... if I... don't tell... cannot tell..." Suddenly she went limp, crying against his chest.

'We need Dad,' Fred mouthed silently to his brother, who nodded, went to the fireplace, and in a whoosh of green flame – George vanished.

*~*****~*

Author's Notes:

I owe a big debt of gratitude to Phoenix for all her hard work and time in cleaning this stroy up and making it presentable. Thank you, Phoenix. I appreciate it more than you know.