MM

The war had a way of making everything feel temporary—even the things you once believed were permanent. Y/n Vane learned that quickly. At twenty years old, she sat behind the polished front desk of the Ministry of Magic, greeting witches and wizards with a practiced smile that never quite reached her eyes. Files shuffled, memos flew, and the world spun faster with every whispered mention of Second Wizarding War. But none of it compared to the quiet ache of what she’d lost. ⸻ Before the War At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Y/n had never felt alone. Not when the entire Weasley family practically adopted her. Mrs. Weasley fussed over her like she was one of her own. Ginny braided her hair before classes. Ron complained about homework beside her. And then there were the twins. Fred Weasley and George Weasley were chaos incarnate—but Fred… Fred was different. Fred noticed her. Always. “Careful, Vane,” he’d tease, leaning too close in the corridors. “You keep looking at me like that, people might think you fancy me.” “And what if I do?” she’d shoot back. His grin would widen. “Then I’d say you’ve got excellent taste.” It was effortless. Natural. Something that felt like it would last forever. But forever didn’t survive graduation. ⸻ After Hogwarts Life scattered them. The twins opened Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, becoming legends overnight. Y/n took the “safe” route—steady job, steady life, steady everything. And yet… She found herself wandering Diagon Alley more often than necessary. Stopping outside their shop. Going in. Buying things she didn’t need. Hoping. But they were never there. “Out testing products,” employees would say. “Busy.” “Be back later.” Later never came. ⸻ Present Day (Deathly Hallows Era) The Ministry felt colder now. Controlled. Wrong. Y/n adjusted the stack of parchment on her desk, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling crawling up her spine. Outside, whispers of Harry Potter, Lord Voldemort, and rebelli