Scarlet Woman

In that split second, we broke into a run. I didn't dare look behind us. I knew they would be following. Adrenaline coursed through my veins- did he really know about us? I could hear him shouting somewhere in the distance. Faintly aware of my asthma, I wanted to stop. But she kept on running, running.

"Where," I gasped, "are we running to?"

She didn't reply. She took a quick glance over her shoulder and continued.

Now I could hear Ron and Ginny's voices too. I quickened my pace. I felt like I had sprouted wings and taken off- I was running far beyond my limits. With each step came more panic. He knew. He knew. He knew! He knew!

She skidded to a halt in the car park, by the pale blue Anglia I had lay on earlier. I knew by their pounding footsteps that they were close.

She muttered a few words. The car unlocked, and she opened the door.

"In here."

With the three Weasleys in hot pursuit, I didn't hesitate. I practically hurled myself into the passenger seat. She started the engine.

It sputtered and clicked and whirred. She swore, hitting the steering wheel hard. Come on, I begged the car, come on!

She kept trying. I suddenly saw Mr Weasley's face pressed against the window. Oh God. He had reached us. Come on!

"Molly!" he kept mouthing. "Molly!" He was begging her, banging on the windows, trying to unlock the doors. Ginny was holding Ron back, whose eyes burned with the rage of the beast.

"We have to go!" I told her, as Ron broke free and hurled a stone in our direction. Somewhere near the back of the car we heard a crack and the sound of shattering glass.

She tried once more, and suddenly, miraculously, it worked. But instead of driving, strangely, we were taking off! She didn't even look at her husband and two children as we left the ground. In fact, escaping from her beloved family in a flying car seemed completely normal to her.

Then I remembered. Harry and Ron had once got into trouble for driving a flying car to Hogwarts. This must be it, their famous trusty steed. How unfortunate that it was now our means of escape!

I watched as we flew over fields and then sea. Neither of us said a word. It hadn't really sunk in.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked. I wasn't even sure if she knew herself.

She didn't look at me.

"As far away as we can."

And then it hit me very, very hard. We were running away together- like I had dreamed! It was just her, me and a flying Ford Anglia from now on. The adventures we could have! Imagine- a woman- running away with me! It was crazy, so completely mad and yet so exciting.

I didn't think she felt much like talking, so I turned my attentions to the scenery below. I had never seen anything like it. For one thing, I had never seen the ground from below before. There was that rather catastrophic time on a broomstick, but I had been too frightened to look down then. Now, however, I lapped it up. Everything looked so small, and looking down on the world, I couldn't help but feel a great sense of power.

The view of the Gods, witnessed by a tubby love-rat and his menopausal mistress.

I was drifting somewhere along the clouds when she suddenly took her hands off the wheel and put her feet up on the dashboard. I panicked. What the bloody hell did she think she was doing? I mean, I'd heard muggles talk condescendingly about women drivers, but surely they weren't that stupid?

"Mrs Weasley!" I gasped. "You'll get us killed!"

"No I won't," she said, shaking her head with a knowing smile, "Arthur made this car fly.. Among other things."

The second she had said his name, her face fell. I didn't want her to be upset. Did she have regrets? I knew that she loved him- but if she was willing to make this sacrifice, somewhere she must have loved me too.

"You mean, it knows where we're going?" I asked. I only knew the basics about muggle cars, that they used a wheel to steer and occasionally had to fill them up with special car juice. But I did know that it was the driver who knew the route and not the car. Seamus and Dean had once taken Ron and I for a ride in theirs and I remember thinking how funny it was the muggles had to make all that effort to get somewhere. Yes, apparating was tricky but there weren't half so many buttons and gadgets and levers and pedals to learn about.

"Well.. In a few words, Neville, no. When Arthur-" she became sad again, "enchanted the car, he added a little feature that only the two of us knew about. It must have been the romantic in him- you see, the car can choose where we're going. We'd end up in all sorts of funny destinations whenever we tried it. Once we flew into a muggle beach and he had to call the ministry in to administer memory charms to all those poor-"

I didn't really want to hear about her husband any more, so I turned my attentions back to the view below. I wasn't particularly impressed with Mr Weasley's great idea. Honestly- a car that chose where it was taking you. Suppose we ended up in the middle of a funeral or something. That was hardly romantic.

I began to dislike Mr Weasley after that. What was the point of making a car fly anyway? What a waste of time- not to mention money. No wonder everybody said the Weasleys were poor if their dad was spending all their money on muggle junk! It didn't occur to me that I was simply jealous at the time- he was, after all, the man she had loved for years. Instead I just sat there, silently seething about that annoying tuft of hair he had in the middle of his head. Why didn't he cut it off? Looked ridiculous. Stupid Mr Weasley.

Arthur. What a stupid name.

I must've spent a while in my childish state, as I suddenly realised that the car was landing. Luckily, it had chosen a sensible area. Well, sensible in the fact that nobody was around to see a car materialise out of thin air. Not very sensible in that we were on a cliff, god knows where.

She just sat there with the invisibility switch on so that nobody could see us. I wondered what she was thinking about. Then I realised with a familiar disappointment that it could only have been regret. She had left so much behind. Much as I wanted to, I knew that it wouldn't be fair to keep her here. So I put on my decent-gentlemanly-Neville charm and spoke for the good of her own happiness.

"If you want to go back, Molly, I'll understand. I mean, you've got a life there. I'm still trying to find mine."

A small smile crossed her lips, but her eyes remained lost. It seemed hard for her to find the words.

"Even if I wanted to," she began shakily, "I couldn't. There wouldn't be any home for me there now."

She turned around, looking straight into my eyes.

"Don't you understand? Do you understand what I've done to them? I betrayed them- deserted the lot of them! I'll never have another chance with Arthur. Even," she paused for breath, and I noticed tears forming, "even if Arthur did take me back, I couldn't face it. Knowing that I'd- well-"

Seeing her unhappy made me feel awful, but I couldn't help the wave of joy rising up in me. She was going to stay!

"Well, we'd better make the best of things then," I said, opening my door and stepping out. The air was fresh and tasted of salt. The sun was just starting to come up, and everything looked altogether unreal. I knew then that this was the dawning of a new day. There would no more clumsy or stupid Neville. I could wave goodbye to angst-ridden Neville and forget about always-saying-the-wrong-thing Neville. There was no past, only present and future. I made a vow to myself to live for the moment. Carpe diem, as the Romans said. Yes.. Carpe diem!

Of course, being Neville Longbottom I had to change my mind somewhere along the line. Living for the moment was a bit risky- I wasn't exactly the type to go jumping off buildings for the sake of it, really.

I heard the other door shut and felt her standing beside me.

"Seagulls," was all she said. Together we watched the birds circle and swoop. Why did everything feel so surreal with her?

I couldn't help thinking of childhood holidays with Gran and my various great-uncles and aunts. Back then, I could never understand how they could just stand on the beach and look at things. Wouldn't it have been more fun to make sandcastles, or go dipping in rock pools for anemones which sucked on your fingers than to just look? I was still learning to appreciate nature's beauty. I had found it in plants- in my babies, which-

My plants!

I would never see them again, or the Hag, or Ariadne and her strange ways. I would never see my Gran again, and God knows I needed her discipline! And I loved her and home to bits. They were, essentially what kept me sane. Now there would be no more mornings in the green house or evenings with the surly mute. No more would I sit with Gran for her evening drink, knowing better than to speak. I wouldn't see my mum and dad again, not that it really made any difference to them. I had left it all behind.

Now I knew what the distant look in Molly's eyes meant. She was leaving everything that she had ever loved for someone she barely knew.

And all because of my terrible, terrible luck. I was a bad omen; a thousand ladders to walk under and several black cats. I didn't find trouble, quite the opposite. Trouble always found me, no matter where I tried to hide. And this time was no exception. If it hadn't been for me, she would be celebrating her youngest son's wedding right now.

I told her I was sorry. She looked at me, amber eyes growing wide with determination.

"Never be sorry," she told me. I was immediately brought back to that moment long ago in her bedroom, with its brown paisley quilt and cracked windows. She'd stood before me enraged, hand raised and about to strike. For a reason I didn't know, I'd said sorry to her. That was when she looked straight into my eyes and told me those words. Never be sorry.

Those words gave me strength. To say them, she had to believe them. Never be sorry meant no regrets. It wasn't a perfect situation we were in now, but we had to make the most of it for each other. If we made the most of it, it just might work.

"Do you really believe that?" I asked her, enveloping her hand in my fingers. Her warmth ran through me, taking away any fears or doubts that I'd had.

A nod was her only reply, but it was enough.

"Never be sorry," I repeated quietly, and we turned on the cliff top to find a home for us.