A snort left the woman's lips, ever watchful eyes on the family below. She sat with her legs tucked under her on the window seat, her elbow resting on the windowsill and her palm cupping her cheek. The gown she wore shimmered in the reflection of the sun, the material caressing her skin, and the soft gray color of the fabric matched her eyes.

The family she kept her watch over stood scattered throughout the beach, all doing various things. A smile tilted her lips upwards when Ginevra dunked a sputtering Percy under the waves. Her smile didn't last, though, as she continued to look and calculate, going over her choices one last time.

She could not risk making the wrong decision.

Her line of sight stayed on the youngest: Ginevra, whose head could barely be seen above the waves, her hair the only beacon of her location, the bright fire of color only slightly muted from the waves and salt.

Seconds ticked by and then her head dipped below the water in a harsh tug as Percy extracted his revenge.

Another snort left her and the woman's scrutiny moved on. No matter how strong the fire in the young redhead burned, the flames would be snuffed out in the end if Ginevra went. If she hadn't been female, she might have been one of the chosen.

Percy and Ginevra's heads surfaced, Percy with a small smirk and Ginevra wildly waving her hands in the air, a scowl twisting her features.

Percy… no. He had been considered for a short bit, but in the end she decided he wouldn't be the best champion. He had the desire to do better, but his soft heart would do him no good in what lay before her chosen. He had the brains and the smarts, but he didn't thrive to see things, do things, outside of his family and work.

The next: Ronald, who lay with his head on Hermione's lap, eyes closed and snoring.

Her fingers tapped on her chin, a soft smile in place.

The young man had faced many things in his short life: death, pride, and his insecurities; he had become a better man for it. Ronald would have done well, but he was tired and he had already paid the price. Much as she could not send Ronald, she couldn't, wouldn't, send the woman running her fingers through his hair. They had fought in a war since they had been eleven, even if they had no notion of it at the time.

And Harry… a tear slipped down her cheek as she stared at the man sitting on the beach, his knees drawn up to his chest as he watched his fiance chasing Percy. Even from her perch inside of the cottage, she could see the besotted smile.

Not him either.

Her attention wavered from the ones gathered closely on the beach, and instead moved towards the last few. Another tear slipped down her cheek as she studied the lone man walking away from the group, his shoulders hunched and the despair rolled off him, much like the waves lapping at the rocks.

Even after two years, George had not healed.

Time wouldn't fill the void. Sympathy hurt, griefs could not be shared or understood.

Standing, she brushed off her skirt and walked out of the cottage and followed after him, the smell of fresh air and salt water surrounding her.

She didn't need to think longer. She knew her choices and she knew them right, no matter how much they hurt or how much confusion they would feel.

Forgiveness would never be hers, she knew. Her lips trembled as she walked past Hermione and Ronald, wishing she could grant them one small mercy, one that would help heal all the grief they had faced and all the adversity. The same she wished for Harry, but she couldn't.

She soon caught up to George and walked silently next to him. The wind played with her hair, the strands swaying softly against her cheeks.

He didn't look over and the two walked in silence.

They climbed a small hill and she followed his example when he sat, staring over his family from the height.

The two sat and watched the interactions of the family until the sun set.

As the reds, oranges and pinks bled into the far corner of the ocean, George looked over at her and smiled, bright and sincere. "You're the only one who doesn't mind me being quiet."

She shrugged and smiled, "Silence does not make everything quiet," her words lay tinged with an accent. "We speak many things through it and we hear more."

He nodded, leaning back onto his hands to stare at the darkening sky. "Yeah. You know, I've been thinking about leaving for a while." His words came out soft. "I think… maybe that'll help."

She said nothing, watching as the others began making their way inside except for two, who stood looking in different directions.

"Do you think… do you think this pain will end?"

One of them looked up and saw them. He jabbed at his brother's side and pointed at them, his long hair being pushed back from his face.

"All things end, but the void, the memories, and the feelings won't disappear. You will still miss him, you'll still remember him, and you'll never forgot that you loved him." She stared at him, a few tears falling free from her eyes. "You will never have another Fred, but you will see him again. It was right to mourn, but now it is right to spend the rest of our times remembering. However long, or brief, that time may be."

Both the men on the beach began to make their way towards the two on the hill.

She and George shared a smile and he leaned forward to wipe the tears from her face. "He wouldn't want us to cry for him."

"I do not cry for him." She grasped his hand. "I wish you happiness, a good life, and a family that will help you move forward." Moving to kneel, she grasped his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his forehead and whispered something that the wind took and wrapped around George.

She released her hold on him and gave him one more smile. "Go on your journey and enjoy your life."

He tilted his head to the side and grinned, "I think we need to work a little more on your English. It sounds as if you're saying goodbye. Even when I leave, I will come back."

"All endings have goodbyes, some spoken and some silent, others figuratively and others literally."

"Now you sound like Hermione. You've been spending too much time with her."

The two heading their way began walking up the small hill.

"Perhaps, but take my goodbye."

"Only if you take my see you later."

"One way or another, I'm sure we will. Goodbye."

He chuckled and stood. "Then I'll see you later." He started jogging away, passing his two brothers, ducking under Charlie's swinging arms and tripping the dragonologist for his pathetic attempt at hitting him.

Chuckling, she sat once more and waited for Bill and Charlie to make it to the top.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing here out on her own?" Charlie asked as he sat in front of her. "Some man can come and snatch you up."

She smiled at him and shook her head, "Smooth talker."

"I'll protect you from all the crazies here." Bill pushed Charlie to the side. "Which, looks like, is only you, little brother."

"Funny. You're crazy too. Who do you think I caught the disease from?"

She giggled, watching Bill sit next to Charlie, but then her smile disappeared and she found it increasingly difficult to look at them.

She reached her hands out to the both of them and the two held her hands.

"You will each receive a gift from me."

"We don't -"

George paused at the bottom of the hill, hand digging into his pocket.

"You won't know right away what it is, but you'll figure it out."

"What are -"

The lone twin shook his head and took a step forward, closer to the cottage.

"When you arrive you will find a company of dwarrows, a halfling, and a wizard named Gandalf."

"Uh, that doesn't -"

A laugh drifted back up to them and then George turned back around, jogging back up the hill.

"To come back, you must complete two quests. Both filled with tragedy and death, blood and fire. One is to reclaim a home and the second is to protect it and all the others from one who is far worse than anyone has ever seen," she spoke quicker, eyes widening on the figure drawing closer to them.

Both tried to draw away, but she kept her grasp firm even though her tears fell.

"What -"

George's eyes narrowed on them as the wind started picking up, swirling around the three.

"At the end, you will decide who, if either, will come back here and who will stay. Until that decision you will not age so that you may complete these quests. If you both decide to stay, you will have one wish that I can grant you."

She gazed at George, shaking her head, as light slowly began to seep from her hands and around the trio. A cry left the man.

"Wait, this isn't -"

She brought their resisting hands closer to her face, inches from her lips, her breath ghosting over their fingers.

"When you reach Gandalf and his company, tell him you were sent by Núri." She brushed her lips over their fingers. "I will see you again. Good luck."

George reached the top of the hill and he lunged forward, hands outreached; his brothers never seeing him, seeming to not even hear him call out.

A beam of light shot from their joined hands and enveloped them.

The light faded.

The sun continued it's lonely trek down the sky, the occupants on top of the hill no where to be seen.

IMPORTANT MESSAGE: Hi everyone! if you haven't seen my profile, then let me tell you what I'm doing. This is the first of 5 stories I'm posting today. I've been stuck on writing because I've been juggling between all the stories in my head. I'm going to focus on the story that gets the most views/follows/favorites/reviews ect ect. in the next week. I'll be doing a tally on 2-25-18.

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