#so in a way Ginny did give him an easy saving
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“His sister didn’t really try,” said McLaggen menacingly. “She gave him an easy save.”
“Rubbish,” said Harry coldly. “That was the one he nearly missed."
Or they were both right. (1k, HBP missing moment, Ron and Ginny being siblings here)
The ball went through the first of the three loops they had improvised in the orchard. Ginny allowed herself another triumphant grin. “That’s the fifth goal in a row!”
Ron’s face was dangerously red when he came back from retrieving the ball, but he didn’t say anything. Ginny moved back to her position, about twenty feet distant from the goals, following the point Harry had marked on the ground. She ran three steps then threw the ball; as in the other five times, Ron jumped to the wrong loop, and she scored another goal.
“Sixth!”
“Oh, shut up.” He grabbed their improvised quaffle and sat on the ground. “This is stupid—it’s not really Quidditch.”
“There is a ball and there is a goal. If you can’t save it on the ground, you’re not going to be better in the air.”
“It’s different!”
“How so?”
“You will be flying also, duh.”
“Except I fly so much better than you, so that’s not a vantage for you.”
Ron’s eyes narrowed at the same proportion his face got scarlet. “Why are you so mean? Oh, sorry, I meant meaner than usual.”
Ginny narrowed her eyes, annoyingly aware that this made her look like Ron, one of those few times where no one could deny they were siblings.
“Perhaps if you concentrated more on Quidditch and less on my love life, you would be a better player.”
“I don’t care about your love life.”
“Then how do Fred and George know that I’m dating Dean? Because I didn’t tell them.”
To his credit, Ron looked a bit ashamed, his expression softening a little. “I was just expressing concern, that’s it. You can’t blame a guy for worrying about his younger sister’s life.”
“I am your only sister,” she replied coolly. “And as said sister, yes, I can blame this guy. What’s your problem with Dean?”
“It is not—Dean is okay-ish—look, you just have to dislike the guy who is dating your sister. It’s a principle. You should know it.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
Now there was a smirk on Ron’s face. “You and Fleur are already braiding each other’s hair, are you? Discussing the flowers for the wedding?”
She reached for her wand, only to lament the fact she’d left it inside the house.
“It’s not the same,” insisted Ginny. “I didn’t even know Fleur before she burst into the house as if she owned it!”
“Oh, right.” Ron crossed his arms, clearly at upper-hand here. “Tell me you wouldn’t hate anyone that Bill — favourite brother Bill, don’t deny it — would date.”
“I wouldn’t,” said Ginny at once, though lacking a bit of confidence this time. Bill wasn’t her favourite brother because a girl shouldn’t have a favourite sibling, only… Bill was Bill. She expected more of him than… Fleur. “I just think he is rushing things here.”
“So you breaking up with your boyfriend and soon after dating another guy—that is not rushed?”
“How long?"
"How long do tou think I've been friends with Dean before we started dating?"
"Ah... three weeks?"
“Three years. I was friends with him before I even dated Michael.”
His eyes widened. “Friends? I never saw it!”
“It’s not my fault you were too busy with other things to realise I have friends. Or that I can play Quidditch better than you.”
“Hey, hey, don’t get mean again.” Ron bit his lips, thoughtful. “Were you really friends?”
“Have you ever talked to Dean and Seamus? And I don’t mean only because you are aggravated with Harry or something stupid as this—I mean really enjoyed their company?” He shook his head. “Well, they are really fun. A lot of dirty jokes also, they give Charlie a run for his money.”
“Hum—I’ve heard a few…”
“Nice. The thing is, you, Hermione and Harry are so busy with your own drama that you forget that while you three are conspiring to defeat the dark villain of the year, other people are having a life of their own.”
“You were glad to join us last June.”
“Of course I was! Just because I don’t do it regularly, it doesn’t mean I don’t care about this war.” Ginny looked away, suddenly embarrassed. “I know what You-Know-Who can do to someone.”
There was a moment of silence, then Ron patted her shoulder. The gesture seemed to make him as uncomfortable as it made Ginny, but she appreciated all the same.
“Dean is a nice guy,” she said, her voice calmer now. “Don’t be a jerk to him.”
Ron seemed to debate the matter with himself for a moment, but then he nodded. “I won’t say anything,” he promised. “Not even to Bill.”
“I don’t think he would care at the moment,” she admitted, throwing an annoyed glance towards the house; Fleur had arrived with Bill for lunch and had stayed, the main reason why Ginny had agreed to Ron’s suggestion of a practice that afternoon, no matter how hot the day was.
“Don’t be silly.” Ron sounded amused. “You are still Bill’s favourite sister.”
“I’m his only sister, prat.”
“He only got one of those, exactly. There are other quarter-Veelas in the world. Somewhere.”
It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but she could find some comfort in Ron’s words.
“I guess,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. It didn’t seem to fool Ron, so she just grabbed the ball on the ground and resumed her position. “Go on.”
“Aren’t we past humiliating me? I can’t save it, there, I’ve said it.”
“You should have added that I’m a brilliant chaser,” Ginny said unashamedly. “And because I’m also a brilliant sister, I’ll give you a hint. Stop looking at me.”
“What? How is that a hint?”
“Look at the ball. It's the ball you need to stop, not me. You already stay at a right distance from the posts to reduce my angle, you already face my direction–you are only missing the goals because I keep misguiding you where I am throwing it."
"So I ignore you and focus on the ball?"
"Don't ignore me, I didn’t say it–are you listening to me?"
"You are one that’s saying rubbish–of course I am looking at the ball!"
"If you were then you'd save something, wouldn’t you?" She threw the ball on the ground, letting it bounce away. "Don't be mad when the other teams score because you can't take advice from your little sister!"
"That has nothing to do with you being my sister!"
"Oh, right, because if Hermione had said it, you would have listened to it!"
"Hermione doesn’t understand Quidditch."
"Harry, then."
"He is the captain this year, and he's youngest–"
"Seeker, exactly! While I am a Chaser, and a Seeker in my spare time. But do what you want, I don’t care."
"Ugh, you are impossible." Ron shook his head; Ginny crossed her arms and neither moved for a few minutes.
Then there was a laugh coming from the house and she saw the door opening; Fleur's silver hair was glistening under the sun.
She sighed.
"Do you wanna play Exploding Snap in the living room?" She asked. "We can wake up Harry, he has napped enough already."
Ron smiled. "Let’s go, I bet Hermione is back already. She gets all flustered when the cards blow up in her turn."
"You know, there are other ways to get Hermione flustered, if that’s your goal."
"What are you talking about?"
Ginny smiled to herself. "Never mind."
#ron and ginny#hbp missing moment#tell me if i got the right sibling energy here#the idea is that later Ron remembers her advice#so in a way Ginny did give him an easy saving#but only because he heard her#sorry for any typos
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Hidden Gems by sdk | @unmistakablyoatmeal
What can I say about this unsung hero with 211 HP works in her catalogue? Sdk is an author I revisit often because everything she writes is GOLD - both Drarry and rare pairs that check all my boxes with exciting UST, light angst, charming banter and mindblowing hot smut. Age gap, femslash, triads, it’s all here folks. Sdk is every multishipper’s dream writer and there’s something bold and compelling about the way she explores ship dynamics that makes me drool in anticipation, I just know its gonna be a deeply satisfying ride. I can’t say how much I appreciate someone so prolific exploring old beloved tropes and delivering so much top quality content over the years. I had to put my horny hat aside (not an easy feat) to make sure this list included a variety of themes reflecting how resourceful and brilliant Sdk is. The best thing? They’re all pocket size reads, and that means you’ll get obsessed just like me but will be able to go through all of them today. I hope I did a good job (this is my longest reclist yet!) but I still urge you to go check her catalogue and give those brilliant drabbles some love as well. Happy Friday!!!
Drarry
Three series (2013, E, 3.5k) - insanely hot Draco/Teddy & Drarry+Teddy, Sdk was delivering the goodies before this triad was cool 😌🙌
Draco's never one to miss an opportunity. Especially when it comes twice in one night.
Pub Night (2014, E, 7k) - Loo sex! Loo sex! Loo sex! Always a fave, fwb to lovers, sweet sweet get together
In a cramped loo at The Bitter End, what Harry and Draco do is only about one thing: getting off. ...Isn't it? Read my rec here.
Swish and Flick (2013, E, 7k) - really fun and cool time loop fic with pub romance and meddling friends, btw this Ron/Pansy/Hermione triad gives me life!
The Swish and Flick is the last place Draco wants to spend his Saturday evening—especially when he discovers Potter is also in attendance—and he can't wait for the night to end. Unfortunately for Draco, time is not on his side.
Save My Wonders (2014, E, 21k) - gorgeous and sensitive fic about healing and self-love. Chubby Draco, falling in love, found family. A must read!
Immediately chocolate assaulted Draco's senses. Warm melted chocolate mixed with his mother's roses and... something else. Something new. Freshly scrubbed skin and maybe a faint sheen of sweat. It was so familiar... And it only intensified when Potter came up behind him.
The Wand Slipped (2019, E, 35k) - all-time fave! Thrilling case fic with family drama, lots of hot smut and a gorgeous pining Draco that will take your breath away 🥺
After a messy, public divorce and a disgraceful exit from the Auror Department, Harry is trying to rebuild his life as a private investigator. But when his ex-wife ends up in St. Mungo's, and Harry's tasked with finding her attacker, he'll have to confront the mistakes of his past, and rely on an old enemy, in order to get closure and move on, and incidentally, solve the case. Read my rec here.
Rare pairs
A Selfish Desire (2020, E, 1k) - delicious Ginsy short feat. second person POV and anal sex, yes pls!
Ginny has you bent over the kitchen table before you have time to smirk.
Coax to Bliss (2019, E, 2.4k) - exquisite Sirry smut with pining, peak UST and lush shower sex and praise kink, all my favorite things in one place 🔥
Harry likes to break the rules but he's very good at obeying when he wants to.
Always (2012, M, 2.5k) - perfect Harry/Teddy vampire fic full of angst, devotion and trust. My heart!
Harry would do anything for Teddy. Even this.
Bounty (2017, E, 2.7k) - Millie wears a thigh holster and Ginny can’t resist, and we don’t blame her. Super sexy PWP with a hopeful ending, so good
After her divorce, Ginny discovers a new experience might be just what she needs.
Flatmates (2011, E, 5.5k) - what’s a little drunk sex between friends, amirite? This is the only Drarry + Romione you need to read: scorching hot, funny, organic and with amazing chemistry and characterization. A+ content
Hermione is just as bossy inside the bedroom as she is out of it. The reason Draco knows this is because Harry's walls are too thin. Read my rec here.
Make Me Feel, Make Me Hurt, Make Me Whole (2019, E, 6k) - it’s about the yearning!!!! Brilliant “angst with a happy ending” Pansmione with lots of pining, semi public sex, and background Drarry as a treat.
Hermione and Pansy fall in love.
Shut Up and Kiss Me (2018, E, 7.7k) - the sweetest Harry/Teddy AU you’ll see this week with cute smitten Harry and grocery shop romance, we love to see it!
There's a reason Harry walks an extra ten blocks to go to the shops and it has nothing to do with onions.
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youtube
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Content 2/2 - F.W (M)
Empty Chapter II
IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.
CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE
Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.
Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader
Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out
Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff
Rating: 18+
DON’T REPOST MY WORK
tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3
Five Years Later, 2003
"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.
"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."
Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"
"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."
"I don't think her name is Stacey though."
You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.
"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."
Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.
Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.
You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.
Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.
The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.
Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.
You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."
Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."
Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.
"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."
You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.
After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.
The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.
You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.
After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.
"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."
She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.
You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"
Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."
"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.
Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.
You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.
Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.
People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.
Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.
Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.
Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.
"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"
"Fleur! What are you doing here?"
With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.
"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.
You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.
Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.
"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."
"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.
The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.
Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"
"Auntie ____!"
A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-
"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."
The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.
Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.
“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.
You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.
Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”
Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.
“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.
Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”
A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.
“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”
Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”
Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”
Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.
It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.
And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.
“____?”
And then, you’re suffocating.
He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.
His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.
His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.
His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.
He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.
His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.
You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.
He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.
Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.
“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”
You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.
Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.
You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.
You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.
“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.
“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.
You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”
He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”
“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?
It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.
“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”
George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“
“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”
His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”
Someone clears their throat.
It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.
“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.
Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!
And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.
You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.
He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.
It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.
The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.
“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.
Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.
He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”
You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.
“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.
Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.
“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.
You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues
Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”
“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.
Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”
“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”
Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.
Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”
Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”
“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”
Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.
Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.
Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.
Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)
Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.
He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.
You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.
He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.
You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight. This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.
“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”
Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.
“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.
“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.
You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.
You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”
And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.
“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.
“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.
Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.
Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.
Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.
“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.
You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”
“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.
You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.
“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“
“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.
“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”
“Wha-“
George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”
“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.
Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”
Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.
“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”
Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”
Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.
“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.
Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.
It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.
Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.
It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.
And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.
Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.
How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?
Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.
————————
When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.
Jambo’s no different.
So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.
You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.
Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?
It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.
Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.
And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.
What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?
Absolute blasphemy.
Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.
Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.
Of course your logic sucks.
Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.
Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.
Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.
A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.
You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-
Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.
“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”
You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.
“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.
Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.
“Morning, I know it’s early and-”
“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”
Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.
You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.
But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?
The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.
He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-
Woah, down girl.
Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.
“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.
“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”
It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.
The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.
“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”
You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”
You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”
Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”
You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.
“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.
“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”
The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.
He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.
“Alright.” he says softly.
His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.
How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.
“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.
The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.
“Eva!”
Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”
You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”
Fred winces. “Actually-”
“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”
“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”
You freeze. “What?”
They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”
Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”
You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.
Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.
It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.
Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.
But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.
It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.
They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.
Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.
“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”
Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”
He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”
You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”
Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.
He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.
Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”
“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”
“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”
Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”
Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”
“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”
Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”
Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”
Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”
You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”
The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.
He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”
That turns the after taste into pure panic.
How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.
“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.
Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.
——————
You look good.
Or, at least you think you do.
Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.
Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.
“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”
Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”
As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.
Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”
Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”
Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.
You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.
“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.
You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.
Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.
“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”
Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.
“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”
Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.
You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”
The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.
For a moment, you forget where you’re going.
Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.
Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.
Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.
You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.
The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.
You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.
Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.
You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.
“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.
“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.
“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”
You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”
George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”
When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.
The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.
Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support
“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.
Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.
You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.
“____!”
Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.
“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”
Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”
“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”
You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.
“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”
Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”
Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.
“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.
Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.
“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.
“I think you know why,” says Harry.
“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.
You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’
You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.
Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.
Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?
He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.
It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.
You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.
You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.
“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.
“Merry Christmas yourself.” he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.
His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.
“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.
“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”
Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”
You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.
“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.
Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.
Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”
You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”
“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”
“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.
Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”
When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.
“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”
Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.
Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”
Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”
It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.
“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”
A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.
“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.
You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”
“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”
You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”
You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.
“What I meant to say was, I wan-“
“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”
When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.
The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.
She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.
But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.
Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.
“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.
You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.
Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.
Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.
“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”
Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”
She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.
“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.
Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”
Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.
You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.
Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.
“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”
He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”
“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.
He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”
“Well what changed your mind?”
Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”
“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.
It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.
Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.
The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.
“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.
Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.
You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.
“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.
Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”
You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”
“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”
“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.
Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”
Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”
Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”
Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.
Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.
Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”
“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?
Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”
“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.
“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”
You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.
“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”
Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.
“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “
You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.
“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.
You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.
Eva stutters, “What?”
“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”
“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.
“No, he won’t.”
When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”
She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.
“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”
“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.
“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”
By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.
Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.
Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”
You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.
“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.
“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”
Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.
A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”
“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”
You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”
Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.
“Yeah, you!” you cry.
Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.
“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”
——————
Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.
If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?
Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.
You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.
“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”
“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”
Fred’s expression softens. “What?”
You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”
Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.
“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.
“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”
Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”
Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”
You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”
You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”
Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”
“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.
“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”
You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.
“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”
Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”
His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”
“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”
Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.
“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.
“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”
“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”
Fred freezes - second time that night.
Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.
Fuck fuck fuck.
You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.
But it was too late.
Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.
“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.
“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”
You almost swallow your tongue.
Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.
Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.
He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.
“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.
“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”
“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.
“That’s Freddie for you, love.”
Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.
“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.
You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.
“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”
“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”
“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”
“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”
“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”
The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.
“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you come back?”
Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”
“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.
“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”
That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.
Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”
“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”
You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.
But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.
Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.
Fuck.
It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.
“Finally!” George yells.
Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”
Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.
If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.
Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,
The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.
Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.
Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.
“____.”
You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.
“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.
You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”
“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.
“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.
“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.
You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”
“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”
“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”
George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.
“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”
“Took you long enough.”
He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”
“I won’t.”
Your lie slips so easily.
It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?
You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.
You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?
“____.”
Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.
“____, darling.”
Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.
“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”
Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”
You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.
Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.
“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.
Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.
“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”
There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.
Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“
“Yes it does, and stupid!”
“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”
Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”
“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”
“That doesn’t explain the rest-“
“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.
“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“
“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.
I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.
“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”
Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.
Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.
“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”
This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.
————
It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.
Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.
Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.
Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.
Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.
Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.
Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.
And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.
“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.
“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”
Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”
“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“
“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”
You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.
Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-
Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.
You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.
The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.
Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.
Knock Knock
Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”
You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“
By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.
“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.
He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.
“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”
You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.
“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”
“Thank you.”
Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.
As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;
“Fred I-“
“I wanted to-“
Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”
Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?
“Fred,-“
“No, let me finish this time.”
You stay silent.
“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”
“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.
“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”
“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.
“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”
You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”
Fred raises a brow.
“Sorry, continue.”
“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“
You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”
“I did.” you smile.
“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”
“Near what?” You gasp.
Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.
“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”
“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”
Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”
“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.
But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.
“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”
Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.
“I was thinking of you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”
Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”
“Oh.”
You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”
“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.
“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.
He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”
“Do what?”
Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.
He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.
“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”
He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”
You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”
You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.
True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.
“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”
If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.
“Fred, don-“
Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.
“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”
You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.
“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.
He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.
His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.
Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.
Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”
You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”
Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.
He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.
“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.
“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”
You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”
Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.
His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.
He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.
“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”
“Then - ahh Freddie!”
“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”
He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”
You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.
“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.
Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”
His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.
That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.
He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.
“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”
“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.
But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.
Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.
“Really?”
“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”
Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”
“Wha- which one?”
“The white one.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh.”
“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”
You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”
Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”
You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.
“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.
Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.
Of course he has abs.
You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into
You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.
“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”
When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.
His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.
Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”
You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”
“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.
Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”
You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”
“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.
“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”
Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”
You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.
Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”
Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.
You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”
“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.
“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”
It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”
The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.
Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”
“I love you too - oh!”
Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”
“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”
His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.
lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.
“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.
“Fred! Oh god - ah!”
Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”
The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”
He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”
It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.
“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”
Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.
“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”
His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.
You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.
Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
“Well shit.”
“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.
Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.
“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”
You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”
Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”
“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”
“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”
You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”
Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.
You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”
After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.
The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.
“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.
He hums in response.
“You’re staying over, right?”
Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.
You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”
“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”
#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley angst#fred weasley smut#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x reader#harry potter fic#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley#fred wealsey fic#hp smut#fluff#angst#hp angst#reader insert#george weasley#ginny weasley#hermione granger#harry potter
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Day 121: Record
"I found some weird box full of muggle stuff," Ron called, carrying said weird box out into the open living room that Hermione and Draco were working in since they had mandatory cleaning on Saturday mornings for everyone who lived in Grimmauld. "I don't even know what these are," he added, holding up flat, black circles with holes in the middle.
"They're records," Hermione replied, glancing up from the cabinet she was working on cleaning out. "They play music," she elaborated.
Ron made a face, "They're probably junk," he replied.
"What are?" Harry asked as he emerged from the creepy closet off of the kitchen, covered in spider webs.
"These records," Ron said, kicking the box with his toe.
"Oh," Harry said, making his way over, "Were they Sirius', do you reckon?"
"It says 'Lily Evans' on the side," Draco pointed out.
"Probably junk either way," Ron said.
Draco Malfoy had spent more than half of his life in love with Harry Potter. He might not have called it love when he was young but the older he got, the more clear it became that he had been a lovesick idiot for most of his life. He'd spent a lifetime memorizing every detail of that face. So he couldn't really be blamed for noticing the split second of hurt that flashed across Harry's face before he nodded, "Yeah. You're probably right. I'll just run them out to the bin."
"Let me," he said before he'd really formed a plan. "I've got all this to take out anyway," he said, gesturing to the box of junk that he'd weeded out this morning. "And we all know that Kreacher has less of a problem with it when I do it."
Harry gave him a little smile that Draco wondered if anyone believed was genuine. "Thanks," he said.
Draco levitated his box and the box of records and headed down toward the kitchen. When he was out of ear shot he murmured, "Kreacher," and the elf appeared.
"Yes, Master Draco?"
"Hi," he said, giving him a little nod, "Could you help me with something?"
"Anything!" he replied, nodding hard enough that his ears flapped.
"Could you hold onto this box for me?" he asked, gesturing to the box with the records.
"Of course," he said, immediately taking the box and disappearing.
Draco nodded in satisfaction and started plotting how he'd learn enough about records that he could help Harry use his mother's.
(Read more below the cut)
Two weeks later, on another Saturday morning cleaning day, he still hadn't made much progress. Luna had actually been the most helpful but he hadn't any idea where to find a record player.
But as luck would have it, one turned up in the library, tucked in a cabinet behind some very dusty potion vials and a rusted old cauldron. "Kreacher," he whispered.
When he appeared he held out the record player and asked him to keep it with the records.
He felt quite pleased with himself now that he'd found the record player; he was certain that he'd be able to play records for Harry in no time.
-------------
It took a couple more weeks. Figuring out how to get electricity into the house was no easy feat (but it was easier once he found out that someone, Sirius he suspected, had done it before).
When Harry arrived home that evening, Draco dragged him into the living room, "Draco, what is going on?" he asked, laughing at him as he tried to get him to hurry up.
"I have something for you," he said, nudging him into the room and presenting the record player. "Ta da!"
"Err," Harry said, looking more closely at it, "What is it?"
"It's a record player," he said.
Harry's head whipped around so fast that it made Draco feel dizzy, "What?" he whispered.
"I found it," Draco said, "when I was cleaning in the library. And I thought you might," he shrugged and reached for the box of records, holding it out to Harry, "I thought you might want to listen to them."
The other man looked at him then down at the box in his hands, eyes wide as he reached out a trembling hand to brush his fingers over the spot where 'Lily Evans' was inscribed on the cardboard box. "You," he started before breaking off and covering his mouth with his hand. "I don't know what to say," he whispered.
His heart was full to bursting and he was pretty sure he'd never done anything as good as this in his life. "Would you like to listen to one?"
Harry looked up at him and nodded.
Carefully, he took out the record on the top and slipped it out of it's jacket, "Ella Fitzgerald," he said. "I've no idea who that is."
"Me either," Harry replied, coming closer to watch over Draco's shoulder as he set the record on the plate, turned the player on, and set the needle.
Music spilled forth entrancing them both, It's not the pale moon that excites me, that thrills and delights me, oh no, it's just the nearness of you.
"Wow," Harry murmured, watching the record spin. He turned to Draco, "I can't tell you what this means to me," he whispered. "Thank you."
He shrugged but couldn't quite keep the pleased smile from his face. "You're welcome."
Harry looked back at the record player before looking over at Draco again, "Do you want to sit and listen with me?"
He nodded, "I'd like that very much."
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It became something that the two of them did together fairly regularly after that. Sometimes they'd sit together and read while they listened to records, sometimes they'd talk while they listened, or catch up on work, or just listen together but it quickly became Draco's favorite pastime.
One Friday night while Ron and Hermione were out on a date, Ginny was away for a tournament, and Luna was working late, the two of them put on a record and ate dinner in the living room, continuing to drink wine while they talked and laughed long after their pasta was gone.
As the Bob Marley album, Exodus, came to an end, Draco stood up and made his way over to the box. "Etta James," he read, "At Last." He smiled and showed it to Harry, "look, she drew little hearts next to the song titles."
Harry smiled that melancholy sort of smile that made Draco ache inside. "Let's hear it, then."
Draco put it on for them and plopped back down on the floor in front of the sofa, his side mere inches away from Harry's, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off his body.
"I like this one," Harry sighed thirty seconds in as he leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. "Do you think they used to dance to this one?" he murmured wistfully.
Draco's heart clenched painfully as he was overwhelmed by the sense of loss that Harry must feel constantly. He had to take a slow deep breath before he responded. "Maybe," he whispered back.
The corner of Harry's mouth curled up in a soft smile, "I think they liked to dance," he murmured. "Hagrid gave me a picture of the two of them dancing together when I was at Hogwarts."
"Yeah?" he asked, hoping Harry would say more about that.
Harry nodded, "They looked really happy, you know?" he said. "Like they were the only two people in the world, like they weren't in the middle of a war," he sighed. "I like to imagine both of them dancing with me when I was a baby," he confessed in a whisper, "when I was crying or something. I like to imagine that the love that saved my life was tangible all the time, you know?" he murmured.
"I'm sure it was," Draco said softly.
He leaned over and rested his head on Draco's shoulder and Draco hardly dared to breathe. After a moment Harry said, "Would you dance with me?"
"Yes," he breathed immediately. "Yeah, of course I would."
"Yeah?" Harry asked, sitting up slightly to look at him.
Draco nodded and stood up, reaching for Harry's hand and tugging him up after him. He kept Harry left hand in his right and wrapped his left arm around Harry's shoulder, leaving space for Harry's right arm around his waist.
The other man hummed softly, drawing Draco in a little closer and closing his eyes as they swayed around the room. Draco couldn't stop staring; at the way Harry's eyelashes were long enough that they brushed his glasses, at the tiny nearly invisible freckles that dusted his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, at the barely visible wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, at his lovely full lips, and the way his stubble looked against his skin.
I love you he couldn't help but think, over and over like it was a personal mantra, like it was the only thing that could keep him alive; he ached with it, with the desire to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him what he really thought of him, to build a life with him, to give him everything that he deserved to have.
Harry's eyes blinked open as the song came to an end, his brows furrowing slightly as he brought his hand up to cup Draco's cheek, "Are you alright?" he asked softly, wiping a tear that had slipped out.
"Merlin, sorry," Draco said, taking a step back to wipe his eyes. "Sorry. It's just your life has been so unfair and when I think about you not really knowing your parents and having to live with your shitty relatives, and-" he choked on the tears.
"Hey," Harry murmured, pulling Draco back into his arms and rubbing his back, "Hey, it's alright."
"It's not alright," he managed.
"Well, no," Harry agreed, "I suppose it isn't. But it's all past now," he said. "Now I have my friends and I live with people who love me and whom I love," he carded his fingers through the hair at the base of Draco's neck. "Ron and Hermione, Luna and Ginny," he swallowed, "you."
"I just wish," he started before breaking off because finishing that sentence would be showing far too much of his hand.
Harry drew back slightly to look at him, "What?"
His eyes were so open, so earnest that Draco couldn't help himself. "I wish you'd let me love you the way you deserve to be loved."
The other man blinked, "What do you mean?"
"Promise me that nothing changes if you don't like what I have to say," he said, clenching his fingers in Harry's t-shirt.
"I promise. You're one of my best friends, Draco," he assured.
He took a deep breath, "I'm in love with you," he finally managed. "And I just want to love you, all the time. I want to hold your hand, and dance with you, and make you laugh, and surprise you. I want so many things for you-"
"Me too," Harry interrupted. "I'm in love with you, too, I mean."
"Really?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe it, his eyes welling up with tears again.
"Oh, love," Harry said with a little smile, wiping Draco's eyes with his thumbs, "Yes, really. Come here," he said, pulling him in closer and swaying to the music, letting Draco cling to him as they moved together.
As they continued to dance, Harry started to tell him all of the things that he dreamed about for the future together. Painting a picture of the beautiful life they could have and after a few minutes, Draco joined in, adding bits of his hopes as well.
They stayed up late into the night, talking and dreaming of the life they wanted to give each other. And every time they fought after that, one of them would get out the record player and they'd dance together and remind each other of the lives they wanted to build.
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Day 120: Tough | Day 122: Moon
#100 drabbles in 100 days#one year of drarry drabbles#drarry#drarry ficlets#drarry drabbles#fluff#pining#like a lot of pining#boys in love#love confessions#acts of love#this one got away from me#but I sort of love it#getting together#friends to lovers
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Not Like The Movies (Fred Weasley)
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Request: Fred Weasley imagine where him and Angelina are kind of “talking” but the reader and Angelina are really good friends and she doesn’t know that there “talking” so when Angelina tells her, she seems okay with it, “it’s not like I’ve liked him since first year.” And since she’s on the quidditch team, she kind of drops out. And starts to hung out more with Cedric and that’s when Fred gets jealous and realizes it was never Angelina but the reader. the whole reason he liked Angelina was because of some letters she gave him but she never wrote them, the reader did...Happy ending with Fred and reader.
Warning: None, just swearing and lil angst
Word Count: 11.7k (got carried away, soooo sorry)
Falling in love with your best friend was nothing short of a curse for you. Sadly, life was not like the movies and sometimes, the person you’re in love with just simply does not feel the same. Movies promised you magic. Laughing and crying, music swelling, camera panning, and always a happy, or satisfying ending. Late at night when you would fall asleep, the image of your best friend would flash across your mind, encapsulating your subconscious. You pictured him lying beside you, telling you jokes and holding you in his arms. You dreamed about what it was like to be his, to call him yours. You thought about how it would feel as he gently strokes your cheek with his palm and his lips find yours. The camera sweeps and falls. We fade to black and everytime, your eyes open from your sleep and the movie comes to an end.
Having grown up with the boy and his twin, falling in love was the easy part; admitting your feelings became the obstacle. It put a slight wedge between your friendship with Fred. You hated how easy it was to fall for him. His stupid laugh, stupid smile, stupid heart, stupid kindess, everything about him was so stupidly loveable.
Although Fred didn’t exactly give you reasons to not feel this way. In actuality, Fred Weasley made it nearly impossible not to fall in love with him. It started with meeting you in the common room each morning and escorting you around the castle, sometimes with George but mostly alone. He’d ‘jokingly’ hold your hand, swinging it widely back and forth as you skipped down the halls. During Qudditch, his attention always trailed off the tracks to you, even when he was miles up in the sky flying around. His eyes would dart to you, just to confirm that you were okay. He was your go to study buddy- although it would typically consist of whispering jokes and talking about your day, rather than studying. Fred was always the one to invite you to his home for break, not that his other siblings didn’t want you, Fred just wanted to be the one who got to ask you. During parties in the common room, you were glued to his side. Fred would toss his arm around your shoulder casually as you sat with your friends. He’d cuddle you on the couch while you chatted away with your friends. You two were never safe from the teasing of your friends, especially George. George Weasley had been pawning for you and his brother to get together since his second year.
Now, there was never an official title given to your uh, predicament. This didn’t mean that people weren’t aware of what was occurring. Hell, even Ron was in on the loop. So, it wasn’t hard for everyone else in the Gryffindor common room to comprehend your shock and anger when you walked in only to find Fred Weasley practically snogging Angelina Johnson on the main couch. Your mouth dropped instantly and your eyes were bugging. And everyone was looking between the pair, and your sudden entrance.
You felt like the ringleader at a circus and all the audience had their eyes on you, the crowd consisting of your few friends who knew your feelings. The voice in your head screamed at you to take action- to go rip Angelina off Fred’s lap and toss her to the ground. It was a vile urge, one that never popped in your thoughts before now. Burning holes into their heads you narrowed your gaze as Angelina snaked her arm around Fred’s broad shoulder, leaning her body into the touch. As if it was second nature, Fred’s arm slipped around her wait, snatching her body forward with a cheeky wink. Your mouth went dry, sahara desert dry. The inside of your stomach coiled into tight knots, a sickening sensation budding. An echoing scream filled your mind, yelling at you to look away, just look away Y/n. Something building, maybe curiosity or maybe disbelief, simply wouldn’t allow this.
Hermione pulled at your hand, silently begging you to walk away with her. You hear the sound of her demanding voice whispering to you, although you neglected to process them. Neither Fred nor Angelina seemed to notice all the attention- if they did, they did a good job hiding it. An indescribable mix of emotion brewed; Angelina Johnson was your close friend next to Hermione. Since first year, she has been your roommate, your potions partner, a chaser just like you, and an amazing friend. She even spent a month of the summer holiday at your home, for crying out loud! You wanted to be angry, you wanted so bad to just scold Angelina and tell her how bad the sight was before you hurt to watch, but you couldn’t. Despite your solid friendship, Angelina was never informed on the feelings you had developed for Fred. In second year you had confessed to her that you had a small crush on the twin, but nothing else ever came. Of course you didn’t know Angelina had liked Fred either. Angelina, Fred, George, and yourself were all in the same school year and house so naturally a friendship arose. As years dwindled on, Angelina drifted away a bit and started spending more time with Alicia Spinott and Katie Bell. You still made time for each other- not to mention living together and spending at least a few hours each day together.
But when Angelina shifted groups, it left you room to grow closer with Fred and George. By your third year, Lee had filled in Angelina’s spot and the four of you raked havoc among Hogwarts. Lee Jordan was a great friend, he always let you sit up in the announcing booth during Quidditch matches when Gryffindor wasn’t playing. In those cases, he was vocally cheering you on through the microphone as you raced around the pitch. When it came to Fred and George, there was a different type of bond you created. You had spent nights on end sprawled around the dorm room of the Weasley twins, chatting about everything and nothing for hours. They invited you in on their pranks, showed you their prized Marauders Map, brought you to The Burrow for holidays, bought you presents for Christmas/birthdays, visited you during the summer, and more. The three of you always sat together in class, sometimes making Lee move a table over. It was always the three of you. Somewhere along the way, you started looking at one twin in particular in a different light. Both were handsome, but something about Fred made your heart race. Everytime his hand brushed against your during class, an electric tingle shot through your spine. He was protective over you, in a brotherly way you assumed, but it was sweet nonetheless. Even during matches Fred always kept an eye out for you on the Quidditch pitch. Never did he miss the chance to gloat about how he basically saved your life three different times. After a long day of class, the two of you would sometimes cuddle on the couch in the common room or in his dorm while talking with George. It was a running joke among your friends about the two of you dating. George loved to tease you two, making kissy faces and telling the two of you to ‘get together already’. George was certainly not the first, nor only, person to make such comments to Fred and yourself. Hermione asked weekly when you would start dating, Harry would question every so often, Ginny asked every hour when you’d get married, and Ron hardly paid enough attention to notice anything occurring.
Pestering and prodding, their questions remained unanswered. You never quite knew what to say, but George, Hermione, Ginny, and even Harry, knew. They kept silent in your presence. Behind closed doors, they seemed to have figured it out. Ron was present for all this but once again, he really didn’t care much to give an overload of input. He wasn’t too interested though and only came to feel a part of the discussion.
The person they couldn’t figure out was Fred Weasley. For the first time in his life, George couldn’t give a solid answer on how his twin was feeling. Typically, George always knew. He was certain Fred had fancied you when they were younger but now in your sixth year, it was hard for him to tell. The two of you had been flirting for years and even though it increased with every year, no actual moves ever came. George wondered if it truly was just flirting in Fred’s mind. Everytime he tiptoed near the topic of Fred’s feelings for you and if he had any, Fred shut it down in an instant. He’d tell George to ‘sod off’ and refused to speak on it. It gave George jumbled ideas.
So when Hermione came up with the idea of you spilling your feeling for Fred in an anonymous letter, it was an appealing thought. George toyed with the plan, a strange pang pulling in his guts told him this was a bad idea. He didn’t know why, but George was scared something would go wrong. He still hadn’t gotten a proper grasp on Fred’s feelings yet. If there was even a chance Fred would decline your confession of heart, George would feel terribly guilty for setting you up to fall. Harry sat this conversation out with Ron, not feeling like it was his place to be this involved. Ginny was in agreement with Hermione, of course, but George kept pushing for them to rethink. Although it was too late, you were already mentally planning a letter.
A week later you nervously handed George a small envelope. Inside was a folded up piece of parchment and in black ink was the words of your emptying out your heart to Fred. You dedicated a small poem to him, then on another page, you dropped small hints about your identity. You included memories, such as meeting on the Hogwarts Express, playing Quidditch together, trips to Hogsmeade, late nights talk, and more. Part of you hoped he solved the mystery right away. The larger part of you crossed your fingers that he felt the same way.
Taking your letter, George was sweating in fear. He had never been so unsure of his brother’s reaction in his life. There were many different ways this could go; the main two being either really really well, or really really bad. For some reason, George was leaning towards the latter.
Hermione on the other hand insisted Fred felt the same. She could sense it, whatever that means. You knew your friend was the most brilliant witch of your time, but she seemed wrong about this one. And now, as you stood staring at your roommate and best friend snuggled up on the couch you were just cuddling with him on last week, Hermione most definitely seemed to be wrong about this one.
Before you got the chance to see Fred and Angelina take their exchanges any further, a tall frame stepped in front of you, blocking your path of sight. Tilting your head up you were met with the soft, pitiful eyes of George Weasley. The other half of your trio reached out and held your shoulders in his hands, gripping your focus.
“We need to talk.”
Hermione followed George up to her door without creating any commotion. They didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention who would question their exit, especially Fred or Angelina. Speaking of which, Hermione led you and George to her dorm as it seemed to be the only chance of you not having to face either of the pair. Slamming the door with a huff, Hermione spun around and pointed to the tall Weasley shifting awkwardly.
“So what the bloody hell was that, George?” Hermione cut through the tension with her sharp words. You refused to meet either of their eyes. The lazer like study of George melting into the side of your head. Your friend slugged over to the bed across from Hermione’s and plopped down. A heavy, tiresome, sigh fell from his lips.
“I just found out last night- I had no clue until Fred told me last night. She was leaving and… I’m just as lost as you guys.”
“What about the letter?” Hermione crossed her arms, starting over at George in anticipation.
“Lee told Fred ‘bout how he saw Angelina by our dorm earlier last week so Fred thinks she’s the one who wrote the letter. Guess it made him interested in her- I don’t know if he asked her about them or not but I guess they went out last week and now they’re… a thing? I don’t know, I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know what to say, he just told me about it right before you came in. I wouldn’t have let you walk in that otherwise- Y/n I swear on that.” Shaking your head, you could feel the emotions bottling up to a spillage. Running a hand over your reddening face you expressed,n
“I know, George. It’s not your fault, I’m not mad at you, I could never. Just mad at the situation. I was stupid to think it would work between us.”
Hermione sat on the end of her bed, her eyes glaring out the window. Her head snapped in your direction. Mouth crack open ajar, her angry expression turned to disbelief and guilt. Shaking her head back and forth she exclaimed,
“It was my idea for you to write the letter, Y/n. I’m the one who should be apologizing for getting you into this mess-”
“No really, it’s not your guys fault. It’s no ones. If Fred likes Angelina then, he likes Angelina. I can’t change that and telling him I was the one who wrote the letter certainly won’t change that either. Love fucking sucks!” You shouted. George’s hands fumbled in his lap as he desperately tried to avoid your frame. He wasn’t sure he could handle the image. To George, the responsibility lay upon his shoulders but his heart suddenly broke into million tiny pieces when he registered the small sobe choking out. The tears uncontrollably began to roll. You covered your mouth as you fell back into the bed sheets. Salty tears streamed down your cheeks, skipping down the skin. They poured from the side of her skin, splashing against the blanket underneath her.
The familiar grip of George wrapped around your body in an instant. Hermione attached herself as well, the two of them comforting you together. It was soothing to feel his hands rubbing against your back, and Hermione’s head resting on your shoulder.
“Y/n, no, no, please don’t cry, love. Please- shit Y/n, I’m so sorry.” You slumped into their arms, allowing their hugs.
George decided to stay for a few hours. The three of you just laid in Hermione’s bed chatting quietly about everything and anything except Fred Weasley. They made an effort to weave every conversation away from that danger zone. George placed a pillow in his lap, allowing you a seat for your head. Hermione’s bed wasn’t big enough for the three of you to sit spaciously so, he made do. Besides, George was your best friend so it was far more natural for him to cuddle with you than Hermione. He was sure Ron would have an earful for him if that was the case. Hermione sat with her back against the bed frame similar to George. His hands petted your hair delicately, lulling you into a deep sleep. Exhaustion from tears and disappointment, your slumber arrived quickly. As your light snores bounced off the stone walls of Hermione’s dorm room, she nudged George. He looked over in a second with a curious gaze.
“Does he really like her? Angelina?” She whispered the words so faint, they almost went unnoticed to George.
“I don’t know, Hermione. I mean… he’s my bloody twin and never has he ever even mentioned finding her attractive let alone wanting to date her. It’s all just… shocking. I should get going soon, though. Catch him before he goes to bed and maybe then I can get some answers.” George slowly lifted from the bed. He set his hand behind your head for support as he moved the pillow. As light as a feather, he placed your head down on the pillow and backed away as quiet as a mouse. The clock was approaching two in the morning and his heavy lids were starting to collapse. It wasn’t a terrible walk to his room, but it also wasn’t lightning speed. His sleepiness was taking over and if he fell asleep in Hermione’s bed with both her and you, he’d be expelled before sunrise, no matter the circumstance.
Hermione nodded and slipped down so she was laying in her bed. She
“Alright, George. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Taking a step out the door, the tall boy stuck his head back
“You want me to carry her up to her room?” He asked kindly. Hermione looked up at him, clearly doubtful on his offer.
“For some reason, I don’t think Y/n will be too pleased to wake up in the same room as Angelina.” They both laughed, careful not to wake you. George mentally face palmed.
“Right. Can’t say that doesn’t make sense. Uh, goodnight, Hermione. Thanks for staying with her.” George mumbled awkwardly. The young witch just smiled and waved to him.
“Of course. Goodnight, George.”
By the time George had trudged back to his room, Fred was passed out, sleeping on top of his blankets instead of under, so George decided to hold off on setting his twin right. As he fell asleep, his thoughts worried about you. He was scared you would hide yourself away, detach from him in order to keep distance from his twin. George considered you to be his best friend, and having you hurt by the actions of his brother made him feel like shit. He found himself praying to whatever god might be listening that when the sun peaked up behind the darkness, you would be okay. Although when morning came, no one could find you. Hermione informed George that you had sneaked out early when the sun rose and she had yet to see you since.
Fred stumbled down the steps and into the common room around noon, rubbing his eyes in a groggy state. His feet dragged across the floor resembling more of a zombie than a human. Just as he entered, George, Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing from the leather sofa heading for the portrait. Ron was the one who noticed Fred and happily invited him along for their lunchtime run. This earned an overdramatic roll of the eyes from Hermione and an awkward wince from Harry. The not so subtle gesture made Fred tilt his head. Nonetheless, he agreed, placing himself at George’s side and giving him a side hug.
The five took off for the dinning hall, making small talk as they went.
George’s jaw hit the floor as he waltzed into the Great Hall only to find you sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff table with Cedric Diggory. He stood, the wind knocked out of him in utter astonishment. Based on the events of the night before, he was expecting you to be still cuddled into Hermione’s bed, or eyes brimming with tears, but you were the exact opposite. A bright, million dollar smile shined from your face. George could hear your laughter from the adjacent direction of the dinning hall. Cedric was sitting beside you, his arms resting on the table as his eyes gazed at you. Everyone knew you guys were friends but it was more, acquaintances or classmates rather than best friends. He pondered if this was your act of retaliation against Fred getting with Angelina- or maybe you truly were trying to move on. No matter the reality, George knew this wasn’t just two friends catching up, and if that was the case, you two had a weird way of showing it.
The sight made a large grin creep to Hermione’s lips. Harry and Ron were completely lost in translation as to why you were sitting with him and Fred, well Fred was livid. So livid the shade of his cheeks was an exact match to the shade of his hair, and everyone saw it. He stopped walking and, quite loudly, choked on the thick air of the room. Some looked over at the sound, intrigued George kicked at the back of his shoe, signaling Fred to keep walking. He obliged, but his focus stayed trained on you and Cedric. At their movement, he slowly lifted his head and was greeted with the fiery eyes of Fred. A teasing smirk hit his lips which only made the fire burning inside Fred blaze harder. Cedric leaned down softly to whisper in your ear, his words making your turn to glance at your friends. You sent them a wave, then turned back to Cedric. You’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t bring you a slight joy to see the visible reaction of Fred.
George dragged his brother to the Gryffindor table, practically shoving him into a seat. He sat down next to him as the rest of the group took the seats around them. All their friends were staring at Fred, waiting for his next move.
Smacking his fist on the tabletop in vexation, Fred fumed,
“Is… is that Y/n and Diggory? That’s Y/n and fucking Diggory!”
George met his brother with a deadpan expression.
“Thanks, Fred, couldn’t tell. I mean, they have been friends since our second year.” He muttered. Although this was true, you only recently started talking again. Cedric was popular among students at Hogwarts so as the years trialed on, it became harder and harder to keep a close bond with him. You never had a nasty falling out- you still waved and smiled at each other during class and in the halls, you just stopped spending your free time together as often. Cedric was constantly with his little group of friends and you were rarely disconnected from Fred and George’s hips.
But when he saw you wandering the halls, tear strokes staining your cheeks, he rekindled the friendship with his natural kindness. Wordlessly, Cedric halted his journey to the Great Hall and kneeled down in front of you, asking you what was the matter. Blame it on the lack of sleep or the heightened emotions, you spilled your emotions and confessed everything to him. His presence felt nostalgic and comfortable, it felt like the old days. After crying to him for sometime, Cedric offered to keep you company for the day.
He showed you around the greenhouse, pointing out which ones he planted and all his favorites. You then took him to the Great Lake where you walked around for an hour and shared what you had missed from each other’s lives. It was exactly what you needed to feel a little better for a while. You guys ended your trip down memory lane, and survey of the grounds, in the Great Hall, Cedric’s original destination. He invited you to sit with him and, not wanting to sit alone, you kindly tagged along. Since then, the two of you hadn’t left your spot at the Hufflepuff table. When Cedric saw your friends walking in, he decided to do you a favor and scoot a little closer, purposely making Fred twitch from the opposite side of the room.
Scoffing heavily, Fred lifted his eyebrow and motioned to Cedric and yourself.
“When the bloody hell have they ever sat together- I mean look at how fucking close they are! He’s basically on top of her… I should go see if she’s okay-” Pushing himself up from the table, a quick hand grasped at his side, snagging him back down with a thump.
“No, Fred. Just let her be, she had a rough night.” The snarky cut sounded from Hermione. The curly haired girl gave a sneer to Fred, irritated soaking through her words.
“What happened? I never even saw her come in last night.”
“And why’s that?” Hermione asked, head cocked to the side, daring Fred to reply. But when he didn’t say anything, she huffed and continued, “She went to bed right after she got in- uh, I think she said something about an essay or exam. Can’t remember.”
An awkward silence took over, no one else wanting to speak up. George was scrapping around his lunch, taking small bites as he waited for someone to change the topic. Fred glared once more over to you then begrudgingly stated,
“Guess I’ll just have to ask her about it at practice tomorrow. She seems occupied.” The green-eyed monster had fully awakened in Fred. He contemplated strutting right over and yanking you away from Cedric. His blood boiled, envy tainting his circulation. A small part of Fred was beginning to believe you had feelings for him as well- well that was until now. Now, he knew you didn’t and it ripped his heart in two.
Sucking in his cheeks, Fred’s teeth toyed and bit at the skin. His knuckles remained clenched and his eyes cold.
A new group of students made their way into the Great hall, with them, Angelina Johnson.
“Hey Fred.” Angelina was smiling, a sickeningly sweet smile that made the skin under her eyes crinkle. Hermione noticed the unfamiliar tint of peach kissing her lips. She rolled her eyes, annoyance growing at Angelina putting in the extra effort to look nice for Fred. She never wore makeup, and Hermione had to resist the urge to throw her glass of water on the girl’s face. Although younger than you, Hermione was extremely protective of you as you were with her. She was your closest girlfriend and Hermione was not about to let Angelina stomp all over you.
Fred Weasley broke his gaze from you to turn to Angelina. A fake smirk hit his face as he greeted her.
“Angelina, hi.” Ron and Harry listened in, trying to act like they weren’t paying attention. They weren’t huge on drama like this- it was a lose lose for Ron to get involved seeing as Fred was his older brother. Harry preferred to remain in his own conflict- Merlin knows he had a laundry list of those.
The older Gryffindor girl had her hand in her hair, fingers twisting a strand absentmindedly. Instead of dressing down for the sluggish Sunday, Angelina had on a tight red and black plaid skirt, and a tight, slightly unbuttoned white long sleeve.
“I was wondering, you wanna go back to the common room with me? Thought we could hangout for a while.” Leaning to her hip, a seductive gleam twinkled in her eyes. Ron could feel the gag creeping up his throat. Everyone, even Fred, had to hold back from scoffing at the girl. Right as Fred went to decline her proposal, his eyes drew over to you. The resentment and fury hit his bloodstream again when he saw Cedric leaning in so close that his lips were almost brushing your cheeks. He narrowed in on you moving towards his touch, the laughter that cascaded from your lips at his whispers. Out of spite, Fred grinned up at Angelina and nodded his head.
“Sure,” Fred propped his hands on either side of the table, lifting himself up, “I’ll see you guys later.” He commented before taking off with Angelina out of the Great Hall. George pushed the food around on his plate, trying to think of a way to make things right. He hated having his two best friends in a standoff, one that his dim twin seemed to not even understand. Looking up, George saw your eyes watching Fred and Angelina leaving the hall, hand-in-hand.
Cedric reached out for your hand, giving it a tight squeeze in an attempt to distract you. His hands were warm in your cold grip and the comfort was slim. If it were Fred’s hands in your own, maybe it would feel different. Resting your head on the wooden table, Cedric could barely make out your sorrowful mumble.
“See, I told you. He’s not interested.”
The kind Hufflepuff shook his head, the sandy brown locks in his hair swinging as he did. To him, it was obvious. Maybe it was a guy thing, but Cedric could feel the heat fuming off Fred from the other side of his room. It was obvious to him that seeing you and Cedric so close together, got under his skin.
Setting his fork down, Cedric wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side.
“Y/n, darling, that is the exact opposite as not interested- he’s only leaving with her because he got jealous that you’re with me! You can’t tell me all that glaring and pouting and red face was because he’s ‘not interested’ in you.” You sat stunned at his words, not having a comeback ready at all. He made a valid point- one that infected your thoughts. Was Fred actually upset that you were with Cedric? No, you declared, he had Angelina, why would he care about who you were with. An answer for Cedric still hadn’t come so you shrugged to him, and started digging into the food on your plate.
A hearty, childlike, chuckle eliminated from Cedric as he gave you one last side hug,
“See, I told you.” He mocked teasingly. You glared at him playfully then glanced over at the Gryffindor table. George Weasley had already turned towards you, silently pleading for you to come over. You mentioned to the east entrance of the dinning hall, signaling for him to meet you there. Excusing yourself politely from Cedric, you promised to return later in the evening, telling him you needed to take care of some business. He of course sweetly obliged, waving to you as you left his table, then joined up with his friends.
George jogged off after you, quickly meeting you outside of the hall. Before you could say hello, he was already diving in.
“You’re mad, woman. Absolutely mad! Do you see how angry Fred was? Cause I was sitting at him and he was incensed! I swear- he was about to leap over there and fight Cedric!” George’s hollar rang to the tippy top of the Astronomy tower. Passerbys leered nosily, wanting a taste of the gossip. Shoving George lightly, you started walking towards the Gryffindor side of the castle with him on your tail.
“Doesn’t matter- he’s with Angelina.” You stated. As much as you wanted the conversation to vanish, George wasn’t about to let you go that easy. Following by your side, an ear shattering laugh came from George.
“Y/n, he only went to hangout with her because he was livid about you and Cedric!”
The traffic in the hall was overwhelming. For a Sunday, there sure were a lot of students roaming the halls. The younger students basically ogled over the two of you as you passed by. First and second year Gryffindors always thought of the Weasley twins and gods for their notorious pranks, and by association, you as well. A group of first year Gryffindor students were crowded around the Cobblestone Courtyard, trying to sneak points and stares at you two. George and you waved over to the boys, their eyes widening at your gestures, but returning a shaky wave back nonetheless. You both continued walking, trying to keep the conversation as light as possible.
“Whatever, George.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you sent him a pointed look, stopping dead in your tracks. Turning to a softer tone you asked, “Would you do me a small favor?”
His eyes squinting, George flattened his lips into a thin line.
“What kind of a favor?”
“Just come to McGonagall’s office with me and I’ll explain on the way.” You insisted. Having nothing better to do and wanting to probe your brain for a bit longer, George agreed. However when you made it to the tower of the teacher's offices, he started to regret coming along. The two of you climbed your way up to the fourth floor, and George’s mouth went dry to the bone when you started knocking on the door of Professor McGonagall. Dots started to connect and before George had the chance to stop you, McGonagall’s door creaked open and the beloved Professor
“Miss. Y/l/n, Mr. Weasley, what can I do for the two of you? You didn’t explode a laboratory again, did you?” The tiredness in her voice was noticeably as she prepared herself to deal with the consequences of your reckless pranks. Instead, you reassured her by shaking your head.
“No, Professor, not this time. I was wondering if I could speak to you about leaving the Quidditch team?”
“What?” Both McGonagall and George asked in unison. The seriousness in your gaze answered their questions. McGonagall gave you a bewildered look, not expecting your request in the slightest. George couldn’t move. His feet were cemented to the floor- not giving a single budge. Ever since you were age qualified for tryouts, Fred, George, and you had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Your third year you were all starters and it hasn't changed since. Everyone could agree, even your opponents, that you were the top chaser in the school, next to a seventh year Ravenclaw boy. You were faster than most, strategic, quick on your feet, and were an excellent flyer.
George went to pull for your hand, destined to make you rethink. But you moved your hand away before your skin touched. He couldn’t think of the words to yell at you to stop, for once in his life. McGonagall flicked her eyes between you two, then stepped to the side, opening her office door.
“Come in, dear- both of you, come in.”
On Monday evening, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was pooled together on the pitch making conversation before practice started. Angelina Johnson stood a few feet from, giggling and whispering with Alicia and Katie. The girls would glance over to the twins every few seconds, then giggle turning back to each other. As time passed on, Fred found it quite annoying. He wasn’t dating Angelina although he wondered if that was clear to her. For the last week and a half, the pair had been sneaking around the castle, snogging in dark corridors, flirting during practice, getting handsy during class and sitting awfully close to one another in the common room. To Fred, he was just having fun and if he was being honest, it was getting a bit boring but he felt that Angelina deserved a chance.
When he found the heartfelt letter on his bed, he felt he owed it to Angelina to at least give it a try. The way she poured her heart to him on paper- it made him feel special, cared about. Fred couldn’t say with one hundred present confidence that the writer was Angelina, but Lee Jordan was certain it was her.
Although he had been devoting most of his time to hanging out with Angelina and trying to sort out if he had any feelings, Fred noticed a change in you. After that night in the common room, seeing you became a rare occurrence. No longer did Fred walk you to and from class, Cedric did now, and sometimes George. Fred almost had a heart attack the first time he spotted you walking through the corridors with Cedric Diggory close to your hip. That was four days ago and since then, the two of you still hadn’t really spoken.
Fred kicked at the grass and sand surrounding his feet. He didn’t have the motivation nor the energy to flirt with Angelina when his mind was stuck on you. He hated the jealousy that took over when he saw you with Cedric, but he couldn’t shake the image. The sound of his younger brother shouting brought Fred back to reality. George had been standing by his side, but he had been far too quite as well. It made Fred feel like he was going crazy- like he was left out on whatever had been consuming George and yourself. He was distressed over the situation, but Ron’s screeching was too distracting to come up with any solutions. Fred peeked over to his brother as Ron demanded,
“Where’s Y/n? She’s our top Chaser- where the bloody hell is she?” Ron was frantically scanning the pitch for you. Walking up from behind the group, Oliver Wood announced his arrival with an annoyed, and irritated voice.
“McGonagall let me know this morning that y/l/n will not be joining us for the rest of the year. Guess she was falling behind in classes and McGonagall and she felt it was best to quit the team… I don’t agree, but I can’t do anything.” He clutched his broom in his left hand, nearly snapping the wood in half. Everyone crowded around could feel the anger radiating off Oliver. His lips were pressed in a stern line, and his body was stiff as a board. The rest of the team shifted under his heated glare. Oliver had a way of killing with his eyes and the baffled Gryffindor players could sense it was going to be one long practice.
Giving the team one last overlook, Oliver pivoted on his back foot and stomped off. The rest of the group exchanged quizential gleams, separate groups of chatter running amuck.
Fred could hear Alicia and Angelina talking about you. You were the third party to their line of Chasers- they had no idea what to do without you on the team anymore.
“What? She never told me that.” Angelina Johnson crossed her arms in thought, puzzled by the entire announcement. If you were behind in classes, why hadn’t you told her? Leaning her weight on her hip, Angelina looked over the twins. She knew the three of you were best friends, so she assumed they’d have answers. Fred was already looking over to her, only for some sort of answers as to why you quit. Burrowing her eyebrows, she sent him a question leer. She was just as left in the dark as he. Suddenly, a light bulb flicked in a flare. Fred turned to his twin, who was far too quiet, meaning he already knew.
“Y/n tell you she was quitting?” It was more a demand than a question, but Fred still wanted to hear George admit it. Awkwardly, George scratched at the skin of his neck. It was such an uncomfortable situation for him to be stuck in the middle of, but he loved both of you and it hurt him to see you hurt. George shrugged, switching his broom between his hands.
“Yeah, I went with her to go talk to McGonagall, I told her not to but y’know how stubborn she is. Had her mind set.” He confessed. George kept checking for their captain, for the first time he was eager for practice to begin. He didn’t care if Oliver was going to take his frustrations of you leaving the team out on them- he just wanted the conversation between himself and Fred to be over. Flying 100 laps around the pitch in one cycle was much more appealing than standing there any longer. Although his twin wasn’t about to let him slide that easy. Taking a step forward Fred seethed,
“Wait, she asked you to come with her? She didn’t even tell me anything about leaving the team. Also didn’t say anything about Diggory...” His tone was a mix of shock and jealousy. The envy dripping from his words was harsh. The white bones of his knuckles peaked out from beneath his skin as his fists clenched at his sides. This caught George’s attention but not in a positive light.
It made him tick in an unfamiliar way. To George, even though Fred was his twin, he didn’t have the right to be upset with him for being your shoulder. Yes, Fred didn’t know what exactly was going on, but he knew something was up. He had to have some sort of inkling and it irritated George that Fred was mad at him.
Scoffing deeply, George threw it right back at him,
“Not like you’ve even been around that much lately. Seems like you’ve been a bit,” His eyes shot over to one particular Chaser, then again to his twin. “Busy. Didn’t tell her about that one either, I assume.” Cold were his words and his face twisted in a scowl. Eyes wide as the moon, Fred gestured to the girl standing next to her friends.
“Angelina?” He asked in surprise. As dumbfounded as his brother seemed, George’s annoyance only extended at an alarming rate. Oliver rented the pitch and was trudging over to the group. Shaking his orange locks George scrunched his nose.
“I mean, did you tell Y/n about whatever the hell this is going on between Angelina and you. Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t tell you shit when you don’t tell her either.” He spat jarringly. The tension was boiling between the two of them and Fred was lost as to why. Stepping away, he lifted his hands in defense.
“Woah, where did the attitude come from? I don’t even know what I did, George. It’s not like Y/n will even glance in my direction lately. Help me out.”
Fred was completely disconcerted, pleading to his brother with his eyes to give him some guidance. It was unlike George to keep things from his twin, and Fred needed to get to the bottom of it. Why would you confide in George? To Fred, the two of you were always a bit closer than George and yourself. There were different boundaries, different normalities between you and each twin. A weird conjunction of irk and bitterness brewed inside him. “For some reason, I don’t believe that. You know, Fred, Angelina didn’t write that letter.” His words struck Fred like a bus. Nearly giving himself whiplash, Fred snapped his sharp eyes to George as his mouth parted open. George’s focus remained on their captain who was nearing. The matter-of-fact tone to his voice had Fred even more confused. Grabbing his brother by the shoulder to force his attention, Fred gasped.
“What-”
An abrupt hollar from the Gryffindor captain rang out causing the team to quiet down and look over to Oliver. With a gruff expression, Wood wasted no time diving into instructions.
“Okay everyone, gather ‘round. First piece of business, Katie, you’ll be taking over for Y/n, second piece of business…”
Fred drowned out the sound of Oliver moaning on as his mind raced to the letter. His brain repeated the sweet words over and over again. There was an extremely slim pool of people who could know all those things about him, and some of it, Fred was almost positive Angelina didn’t know. Yes, he met her his first year, but Angelina didn’t know Fred was afraid of the dark. She had no idea he hated socks. That was something he shared with you over winter break when the harsh winter forced him to wear the constricting material on his feet. Didn’t know about the scar on his knee he got last summer when Fred, George and yourself went exploring in the woods and he fell into a hunting trap. You knew all these things- but if you were the true author, Fred was almost certain you would’ve said something by now… right? That’s what made the whole situation so frustrating to him. He thought about asking Angelina, getting a straight forward response but if she did say no, what was he supposed to do. If Angelina didn’t write the letter, then who did? Did the prank king himself fall for a prank? Fred’s judgement remained clouded for the rest of the practice, despite how hard Oliver pushed them. He needed to find you and at least figure out why you had been avoiding him.
While your former teammates were hard at work on the pitch, you were sat in the courtyard with Cedric. The two of you were propped up on the brick wall, sitting half inside the corridor and half outside. Students walked past as dinner was nearing, mummering about the two of you while walking by. Those who were unaware of your history gossiped about a possible relationship. A relationship was the last thing either of you wanted for each other.
Cedric was busy telling you a story about a holiday him and his father took to Greece the year before, a country you had been dying to visit. You were invested in his story about traveling to see authentic Greek God statues when the figure of a familiar boy came into view from the corner of your eye. Behind Cedric was Fred Weasley running up to every student in his perimeter, saying something to them, then running off to the next one. He reached a Slytherin girl, asked her something, then much to your surprise, she turned around and pointed at you. Fred followed her finger until his eyes found yours. Rushing over, Fred thought you were alone until he was a foot away and the shoulder of Cedric could be seen poking out behind the pillar.
Fred stopped next to Cedric, trying his best to appear intimidating, which would’ve caused you to giggle recklessly if the situation were different.
“Y/n… Cedric. Fancy running into the two of you.”
“Hey Fred.” The confidence in Cedric’s voice almost made you laugh. He was toying with Fred because he knew he could. You didn’t have an attraction towards Cedric, and he saw you as a great friend. Fred didn’t need to know this all yet.
Now that Fred was face-to-face with Cedric, you could see that your friend was correct about noticing the jealousy. Fred snarled at the Hufflepuff, a scowl painting his face. Once he looked over to you, his features softened. Biting your lip you echoed,
“Hi.” Fred was pleased with your response, even if it was minimal, at least you were willing to acknowledge him now. That was a step.
Reaching for your hand, Fred laced his rough fingers around your own. It was a familiar feeling you had been missing for over a week. Having his attention on you was something you missed- just having him around was something you missed.
Cedric coughed awkwardly, awaiting Fred’s move. The Gryffindor glared over again then took a deep breath, resisting the ticking urge to shove the boy away from your vicinity.
“Y/n, uh, can we talk?” He paused for a moment, “Without dear Cedric around.”
“Sure. I’ll see you around, Ced.” You leaned up to hug your friend, then watched as he walked away, smirking to himself.
“Ced?” Fred muttered under his breath, earning a small frown from you. “Sorry…”
Scratching at his arm, Fred tried to figure out where to begin. There were so many questions- so many. It was impossible to declare the perfect place to start. Realizing he wasn’t going to speak first, you broke the ice.
“You just want to talk here?” The corridor was empty, expect a Ravenclaw couple stealing a nap before curfew. A pair of students would walk by every so often, but they never strayed from their path.
“Uh, I suppose. I mean you haven’t really been talking to me at all for a week, so I’ll have a conversation wherever I can get one.” Fred chuckled uncomfortably, the lack of humor on your face building tension. You were staring out at the bare courtyard, viewing the scenery of flowers and greenery. Tall trees whooshed in the wind, leaves tumbling to the green grass gracefully. Branches swung against each other, the noise helping to create a distraction.
Slipping his thumb under your chin, Fred lifted your head locking his eyes on yours. You finally peered back at him, and the look in his eyes almost made your heart crumble. A slight glossy, sadness glazed his typically wild, gleaming, happy orbs. His hand tightened on your face, although not enough to hurt.
“Y/n why won’t you even look at me, love? You’re obsessed with Quidditch almost as much as Oliver and you just upped and quit. Don’t even try the excuse of ‘falling behind in school’, we both know that’s a bold lie. You’re the brightest witch in the castle. Look at me please, love.” He pleaded. A sudden rush of irritation surged through you, irked at his words. Pushing him back, you tried to rid yourself of the boy. Stubborn as he was, Fred didn’t move a muscle.
“Stop. Stop it. You can’t say that.” Sternly you scolded him. Fred ran his free hand across his face, his frustration getting the best of him.
“I can’t say what, darling?”
Finding the strength to push him away, you glowered intensely,
“You can’t call me love, and you certainly can’t call me darling. You have Angelina for that.” The last part was thrown in more to jab at Fred, wanting to make him feel even an ounce of the pain you were experiencing. It was exactly the most adult choice, but who could blame you. It’s like they say; hurt people, hurt people.
Despite the coldness of your presence, Fred wasn’t backing off. Tugging at your wrist, he pulled your attention in again. His hands were gentle yet his features were sharp.
“So, what? Can only Cedric call you that? Cause just a week ago you were fine with it- loving it actually. This has nothing to do with Angelina-” The vein in his forehead was popping out from all the emotions Fred was draining at once. The last time you saw that sort of a reaction was when Fred nearly murdered his brother Percy for delivering him personally to Snape for exploring the castle after hours. It was quite an interesting Christmas break after that stunt. Fred attempted manslaughter roughly five times during that month off.
You heard his words but all you could see was red. You couldn’t stand to hear him say her name, it made the hairs on the back of your neck rise at the thought of Fred with Angelina. A week’s worth of heartbreak, anger, and hurt exploded without warning as you leaned close to Fred and shouted feverishly,
“This has everything to do with Angelina, Fred!” The anger boiled into a scream as you shoved your finger into his chest, poking him harshly, “You were supposed to be my best friend- her too- and you never told me. You led me on, you made me think you actually had feelings for me, that I had a chance, then you went and got with my roommate, and didn’t say a word to me! You just want me to pretend everything is fine and dandy but it isn’t! You hurt me- her too, but you more than anyone. I’ve been friends with both of you since first year- I’ve been in love with you since first year- and you never even said a thing, you coward! I fucking left clues in neon signs in that letter and you still ignored them. You could’ve just told me, Fred. I can’t even look at either of you the same now. Why didn’t you tell me?” The tears were pouring like a broken faucet at this point. Salt kissed the corner of your mouth then splashed onto the stone floor. Your head fell, allowing the cries to smack right to the ground. A black shoe came into view as it stepped towards you. Refusing to look up, you silently begged for Fred to do something- anything. Soon enough, his large hand clasped around your shoulder, yanking you tightly into his chest. His arms encapsulated you into a hold, hugging you like he never had before. Instead of fighting him off, you felt your body sinking into his arms as the sobs continued. Fred’s hand reached to your head, petting at your hair in a soothing manner.
Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, Fred lingered his lips against your skin. This was something he had down a million times but with the circumstances, it felt different this time, more genuine.
“You wrote those letters?” Fred uttered faintly. All the stars were aligning in his mind as the confession coated the air. He wanted to kick himself endlessly for putting a blindside up to all the flags. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine you, his best friend, would share the love he felt for you. He started to think back on all your little antics in a different light. How you’d hug him first after every Quidditch match- win or lose. How you’d hold only his hand when you walked to class and never George’s. How you’d braid his hair in the common room on the weekends and spend all night spilling your secrets to him. How whenever there was a party, you stayed close to his side clutching his hand, not that Fred ever let you wander far. It caused his heart to skip a beat as he fixed all the pieces together into a neat puzzle.
“Of course I fucking wrote the letters, Fred! Who else could’ve known all that, hm? I’m sure you ruled George out right away so that only leaves one of us. You didn’t want it to be me- you wanted it to be her.” Your voice cracked at the admission, turning away from Fred while the tears took control. You wanted to run off so bad, to go cry in a corner and never face anyone again. Wiping your eyes, Fred snatched your mascara smudged hand and frantically exclaimed,
“No, that’s not true! I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so bad Y/n, but it was just too good to be true. When I found them on my bed, Lee said Angelina was standing outside our room right before he came up so I… I guess it was just… I don’t know. I didn’t want to risk it, I was just scared if it really was you.” Your eyes rolled in disbelief, was he really driving the dagger in even more? Was it really necessary? The message was received loud and clear as you sneered up at him.
“I get it, Fred, okay? I fucking get it so you don’t have to spell it out for me. You’re with Angelina and I’m just your friend-” For the first time in the long years of your friendship, Fred Weasley snapped at you. Never had you heard his scary, angry voice directed at you, but this time, you were the only one around to be on the receiving end.
“Will you just shut up! I’m not with Angelina- I had a thing with her but I could never be with her, Y/n. She’s just… just-ugh! She’s just not you and it’s infuriating. And if I see you in Diggory’s arms one more time, I think I’m gonna explode.” He finished, out of breath and huffing. His hand around yours had gripped harder, your fingers nearly numb. This was the least of your concerns. All you could comprehend was the rapid words of the boy in front of you.
A triumphant sensation hit your stomach. It made you a little happy to know Fred was envious of Cedric. He had no reason to be, but it still made you smirk a tiny bit. Shrugging half heartedly you mumbled,
“Now you know how I feel…”
Fred’s head shot up at this. Confusion written all over his face he questioned,
“Wait, you’re not with Cedric?”
“No, Fred! He’s my friend- unlike you and Angelina, I don’t snog Cedric.” Dragging your words out, you sent a knowing flare at Fred. He didn’t deny it though, which was what you wanted. If anything was going to happen between the two of you, you needed to be entirely honest and Fred was ready for that. Lifting your hand to his face, you opened your grasp fully, allowing it to rest against the warmth of his cheek.
“It was only once, darling. Just to see if something was there and… well, don’t tell Angelina, but it was bloody terrible. I was expecting it to be like that time we uh, ‘accidently’ kissed last year. Don’t know if you remember it but I certainly do. But um, yeah it was nothing like that. I remember when I kissed you, it felt like that feeling of comfort that I get whenever I step inside The Burrow. And with Angelina, it was more so empty. With you, I had fucking butterflies for weeks! After I kissed Angelina- I vowed I wouldn’t do it again. I never want to kiss any girl who isn’t you, I mean that, Y/n. I’ve had a crush on you since George and I sat next to you on the train to Hogwarts. I’ve been in love with you since we got off that train our first year, and I haven’t stopped since.”
“I remember everything about that day, you were my first kiss after all.” A smile graced your lips at the memory. You had joined the Weasley’s for the last month of summer break, only months ago. Fred, George, and yourself were up late one night in their room gossiping about the new drama you had missed while apart. You laid on your stomach on Fred’s bed, and George on his. Fred sat cross legged beside you, his arm lying on your back. After a few hours, Ginny knocked to inform you she was heading to bed. Taking a risky gamble, Fred begged Molly to let you sleep in their room on a makeshift cot. It took him a little over three weeks to get a yes from her- but with the limitation that the door stay open no matter the hour.
Ginny would stop in every night to wish you a good sleep. Although small in retrospect, this was a big reason Fred fell even more in love with you, the way his little sister looked up at you as if you were the most beautiful creature to ever lay foot on this earth- not that Fred would deny this. He agreed fully, but it made him happier than ever to know that his family loved you and consider you an honorary Weasley. He hoped one day he’d be able to make you an official Weasley, but that would come further down the road.
George crashed around three and Fred and yourself decided to lay in his bed for a few more hours before hitting the hay. You knew you’d have to sneak back to your cot before sunrise or Molly would execute Fred- not you of course, just Fred. She never found you guilty for any of their disastrous plans.
After an hour or so, you were laying next to Fred, staring up at the ceiling as he explained to you all the reasons on how he was superior to George in Quidditch, a conversation that he would only win when George was passed out. For some reason, this led to Fred rambling on about the first time he saw you flying, how he knew you would be an exquisite flyer. Maybe it was because of the kind compliments and the admiration it created inside of you but you placed a soft kiss to the corner of Fred’s lip mid sentence as he gushed about your Quidditch skills.
As you pulled away, Fred pulled you forward again, this time initiating the kiss himself and smacking his lips entirely on yours. Although it was your first kiss, you caught on quick. Fred moved to hover over you which caused your kiss to break and reality to set in. You both went as white as a ghost, frozen in place. Fred just stayed on top of you, unsure of what to do next. His heart urged him to kiss you again but the look of shock on your face made him doubt this idea. After an awkward minute of this, you slowly slid out from under him and sprinted to the makeshift bed, hiding under the covers until morning. It was embarrassing to say the least but neither of you mentioned it since. You went back to normal the next day, pretending the kiss was a figment of your imaginations. But it was as real as your feelings and it happened. You pondered now if you had kissed him again back on that night, maybe you would’ve been together sooner.
Pulling you back into the moment, Fred peeled your hand from his face and scattered a line of kisses to your knuckles,
“If you’d let me, I’d like to be your last.”
“What exactly are you asking me, Freddie?” You smiled, a sugary confection grin, like the world was finally turning in your favor. A gleeful grin took over Fred at the nickname your gifted him. Leaving a chaste peck to the back of your hand, Fred leaned into your touch.
“I’ve missed that so much, love. You’re the only one besides mum and George that can call me Freddie. But,” Eyes meeting your, you could feel your heart melting under his gaze. “I want to ask you if you’d be my girlfriend?” If you weren’t standing so close, his whispered words would’ve gone unheard. Luckily for the both of you, they fully registered in your head and heart. Pinching at the skin of your arm, you reassured yourself this was in fact real and not a dream. Fred really was standing in front of you confessing everything you had been dying to hear since your first year. You figured you must have been staring for far too long as a look of fear flashed across Fred’s face.
“Freddie, of course I’ll be your girlfriend!”
“Merlin’s beard- you had me scared, darling.” He hugged you close to his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart pounding against your ears. You could hear the nerves in his voice causing you to giggle against him.
“Did you really think I was going to say no?”
“I mean I have been a down right git these last few days so, can you blame me for being worried?” He pulled away to glance down at you with a funny expression. Scrunching your nose as if deep in thought, you shook your head.
“Nope.”
Skimming his thumb across your cheek again, Fred took a different approach this time. His body leaned in slowly to yours, stopping just before connecting to brush his lips against yours. The tips of your noses touched, making you laugh at the tickle. He took his time admiring every detail of your face so up close and personal. His eyes surveyed the miniscule dark spots kissing your s/c skin, the paint strokes of e/c in your eyes, the indented dimples in your cheeks and all the beautiful little details that crafted you.
Drawing in, Fred closed the inch of a gap by pressing his pursed lips against your own. Your knees gave out almost immediately at the intense passion and spark soaring through you. As if expecting you to stumble, Fred’s free arm was wrapped securely around your waist, supporting your body to a stand. Snaking your hands around his face, you mimicked his movements by enticing him in with your lips and kissing him deeply. You moved your hand down to his tie, gripping the satin material in your hand then whipped it towards yourself. Fred crashed further into your lips, a groan of pleasure emmitnating. His hand trailed from your waist to your hair, returning the action by tugging at your hair.
You gasped at the sensation, giving Fred the perfect window of opportunity to take the lead. The warmth, and wetness of his tongue slipped around your lip, then entered your mouth. You fought with him wanting to dominate the kiss but Fred was far too skilled.
His tongue danced with yours before flicking across your lips in a teasing manner. You giggled into his lips, a smile rising to Fred’s lips. Detaching himself from your embrace, Fred pulled back, then kissed your cheek. His hands found their previous position around your face. As he held your face in his hands, he leaned down to rest your foreheads against one another. Like a child whose mother just purchased him a puppy, Fred abruptly gushed,
“I can finally call you mine now, isn’t that wicked! Like… you’re my girlfriend now! Bloody hell, this is amazing. I should’ve asked you out years ago!” He chuckled giddly, squeezing your cheeks lightly in his hands. You pulled away, smacking his hands playfully.
“Tell me about it. Would’ve made this a whole lot easier.”
“Ah c’mon, love. Nothing worth it ever comes easy, right?” Fred smiled down at you, intertwining his large hand in yours. You peeked at the interlock, a grin rising to your face. Despite the annoyance of how long it took him, you couldn’t be happier now that he was truly yours. He was right, the wait was finally worth it. For once, your life was aligning with the script of a Hollywood film and it had never felt better.
Gripping Fred’s hand loving you tilted your head up at him,
“Is that your excuse for taking, what… six years?” His cheeks went red at this and he attempted to cover his face in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, darling! Oh wait- am I allowed to call you that, or is it still reserved for Diggory?” Wiggling his eyebrows at you Fred broke into a fit of chuckles. You hit his side, causing him to step back, though the laughter roared louder. Narrowing your eyes, you feigned anger as you spun on your heel and started to walk in the opposite direction, away from Fred.
“Shut up, Freddie! You want me to break-up with you already?” Fred knew you were joking, but he was a sucker for games. It didn’t take him long to catch up to you- his long strides were no match to your average ones. Wrapping his arms around your body from the back, Fred pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, blowing a rush of air in causing you to leap in surprise.
“Oh, stop it, love! Don’t start with that, let’s at least make it a full day before any talks of breaking up.” Fred placed a ‘boop’ to your nose, then rejoined you at your side as you walked together to the dorm room. The other students had emptied from the halls. Passing by the large clock, you realized you were minutes from curfew. Pointing at the time, you motioned over to Fred. He swiveled his head to read the clock, a wild smirk marking his face. Speeding up the pace, the two of you were jogging to the common room, neither of you wanting to end up in detention. Just as you reached the fourth floor, a silvery and translucent figure swept across the opening of the corridor. You yelp in freight at the unexpected jump scare of a Hogwarts ghost. The Bloody Baron snapped his head at you with a nasty scowl. A silver, heavy chain hung around his neck, a punishment for his crime of murder. Although ghosts of Hogwarts weren’t ghoulish or frightening, The Bloody Baron had never been your favorite. Despite deceased, the throw of his glare felt real and caused your skin to crawl in fear.
Fred interjected, greeting The Bloody Baron kindly and apologizing for your reaction. The ghosts at Hogwarts were rather sensitive to their state. Besides, he always had a softer side for the twins. The Bloody Baron and Peeves were connected in a way so the Weasley twins always got a pass.
The ghost gravitated to the side of the entrance, allowing an opening for you to pass. You thanked him, apologizing for your previous reaction as you stepped past. As you made it out of his earshot, a stream of laughter poured from Fred. Tears pricked his eyes as he chuckled endlessly. You glared at him, warning him with just one look to keep quiet. Fred threw his arm around you, pulling you into his side. He leaned down to place a lingering kiss to your lips before chuckling again,
“C’mon, darling. I’ll protect you from all the ghosts.”
#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley imagines#fred weasley oneshot#Fred and George Weasley#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley#Fred Wealsey#fred and george imagine#fred and george weasley imagine#Fred and Goerge Weasley#Fred and George#george weasley#george weasley imagine#george weasley imagines#reader x George Weasley#george weasley one shot#Ginny Weasley#weasley twins#weasley#Weasley twins imagine#ron weasly imagine#Ron Weasley#Harry Potter#harry potter imagine#harry potter imagines#harry potter x reader#hp#hp imagine#hp imagines#imagine
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Isn't it Obvious? | F.W.
Title: Isn't it Obvious?
Requested: Yes/No
Summary: Y/N and Fred are too oblivious to the fact that they are lovesick puppies just chasing each other around. So, Ginny and George decide to take matters into their own hands.
When the sun's going down, we'll be raising our cups
Singing, here's to never growing up
The lyrics blasted over the speakers Hermione had managed to smuggle into the Gryffindor common room. It was around easter and most of the residents of the Gryffindor tower had gone home for the holidays. Leaving Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, the twins and I at Hogwarts.
It was currently a Saturday evening; the clock had just struck seven. Since we were the only ones left, we could party as late as we want.
“Who knew Hermione Granger knew how to do something like smuggling a muggle speaker into Hogwarts.” Ginny said with a small laugh, taking a sip from her cup.
I laughed, “I know right. I was quite surprised when I saw her taking out the speaker from her bag.”
“Hey!” Hermione complained, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink due to the alcohol, “You two say it like it’s a bad thing.”
“Hey,” Ginny suddenly said, nudging my shoulder lightly, “Someone’s checking you out.”
I glanced over at the direction she was nodding to, Fred, one of my best friends, shot me a wink when our eyes locked with each other.
I looked away immediately, taking another drink of Firewhiskey, the intensity of the alcohol slightly burning my throat.
“No, he’s not.” I said, causing the youngest Weasley to roll her eyes at me.
“Seriously Y/N, you’re smart enough to be in Ravenclaw but you can be so daft sometimes.” She said.
“What do you mean Ginny? What am I daft about?” I asked.
Hermione gave an exasperated sigh, “Honestly, it’s so bloody obvious. Even Ron knows about it. And that’s saying something.”
“Knows about what?” I said, now more confused than ever.
“That you and Fred are practically like lovesick puppies with the way you’re head over heels in love with each other.” Ginny stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I laughed, swiftly taking the red cup from Ginny, “I think you’ve already had too much to drink.”
She snatched the cup from my hand, “I did not have too much to drink. You just don’t want to accept the fact that Fred actually feels the same love as you do.”
I sighed, “Ginny, why in the name of Merlin would he fall for me. When they are so many other girls that are so much better than me.”
Hermione smacked me the back of my head as she gave a drunken smile, “That’s because he wants you dummy. How many times do we have to tell you that?”
Ginny and I exchanged a look, “She’s drunk, isn’t she?”
The redhead gave a small laugh, “She is.” She said as she gently took the cup from Hermione’s hands.
“But Hermione’s not lying you know.” She said as we lugged Hermione up the stairs to her dorm, “That Fred likes you.”
I sighed, “Ginny. I won’t deny that your brother is handsome and hot as hell. But Fred, maybe my best friend, but he can get any other girl that I know and bet is prettier and better than me.”
Ginny scoffed as we plopped Hermione down on her bed, “Both of you are just too stubborn for your own good.”
--
I was walking towards the hidden corridor by the third corridor, where the twins were waiting for me.
“Hey Y/N! Wait up!” A voice called out causing me to stop and turn towards the voice.
“Hey Cedric.” I said with a small smile, “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to ask, what do you think Cho will like?” He asked, lowering his voice down to a whisper as he gave a shy smile.
“Ooh.” I teased, “Someone has a crush.”
He chuckled, “Yeah. I was thinking of asking her out.”
I thought about it for a moment, “Well, as far as I know, she likes white chocolates and roses.”
The Hufflepuff gave a grateful smile, “Thanks Y/N!”
I nodded, “Not a problem.”
He then walked off, probably to get the supplies he needed.
I started to head back on my way to the hidden corridor when I saw the twins waiting for me by the end of the hall.
“Hey guys!” I said once I’ve caught up to them, “What’s got his wand in a twist?” I asked George when I noticed the unusual scowl on Fred’s face.
The younger twin shrugged, giving a small smile, “Dunno.”
We started to walk back to the common room.
“I’ll just take a detour to the bathroom.” Fred suddenly said, “You two go on. I’ll see you at the common room.” He then dashed off before George and I could say anything else.
I gave a George a look, silently questioning his twins’ behaviour, to which he just shrugged.
“You know,” He said with an amused tone lacing his voice, “If you two would just suck it up and stop being so daft, then half of the world’s problems would be solved.”
I groaned, knowing where this conversation would be heading, “Ginny already gave me the pep talk. I’ll say it again, Fred doesn’t fancy me.”
George rolled his eyes, “Oh believe me dear Y/N, he does.”
“And may I ask why you’re assuming this?” I said.
“I’m not assuming this.” He answered, “It’s the truth. And I’m sure of this because one, I’m his twin, I know what I’m talking about. Two, it’s frankly obvious that he literally gets heart-shaped eyes whenever the two of you are in the same room. And three, take now for an example, he got jealous when you were talking to pretty boy Diggory.”
I stayed silent, contemplating on whether I should believe George or not.
I mean, Fred is my best friend, but that doesn’t stop me from being a flustered mess whenever I’m around him.
--
(Fred’s POV)
Night had fallen once again, I trudged up to my dorm, seeing George was already up there.
As soon as I sat down at the edge of my bed, George spoke the words that told me this would be a long night.
“Instead of sulking whenever you see some other guy talking to her, just go to her and confess your undying love for her.” He said.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair, “If only it was that easy, it’s obvious that she likes someone else Georgie. I’m only saving myself from the embarrassment.”
George scoffed, “And who exactly do you think she likes?”
I took a deep breath, struggling to get the words out of my throat, “You, Georgie. It’s you she fancies.”
He suddenly shot up from his relaxed position, “What in the name of Merlin made you come up with that?”
“Can’t you see?” I argued, “She can talk to you easily but she can’t do the same with me. Isn’t that already a bloody sign?”
“No, you idiot!” He said, “She can talk to me easily because she becomes a stuttering and flustered mess around you.”
“How sure are you about that?” I asked.
George rolled his eyes, “Maybe if you weren’t such a daft idiot then you would see the bigger picture.”
I sighed, not wanting to argue anymore, “I don’t know Georgie. Besides, why would she want an idiot like me?”
--
(Reader’s POV)
“Where exactly are we going again?” I asked trying to keep up with George, who was practically in a hurry.
“Fred’s injured, okay, he got hurt.” He hurriedly answered.
I stared at him in disbelief, “What? Why didn’t you bring him to the hospital wing?”
“I-I’m sorry.” He managed to stutter out, “But I panicked and the only thing I could think of was getting you.”
We stopped in front of a broom closet, before I could register what was happening, the door opened as I was suddenly pushed inside.
“Sorry about that Y/N!” I heard George say as the door suddenly shut close.
“George!” I said, pounding on the door, “George Fabian Weasley let me out of here now or else I will murder you!”
I heard a small chuckle from the other side of the door, ‘Sorry Y/N, no can do. It’s for the betterment of society.”
I started to search for my wand, “How is locking me in a broom closet a betterment for society?”
“Looking for your wand, aren’t you?” George asked, the grin evident in his voice.
Frustrated, I kicked the door, “George, give me back my wand!”
He hummed, pretending to think about it, “That’s a pretty good offer, but I think that I’d rather hold on to it for a while longer.”
“George!”
“Don’t worry Y/N, you’ll have company soon enough.”
As soon as he said that, I heard two voices that I recognized as Ginny’s and Fred’s.
“Hurry up Fred!” Ginny said.
I heard the footsteps grow louder.
“What’s happening Gin? I thought Y/N was in trouble? What are we doing here?” Fred fired question after question to his sister.
Next thing I knew, the door of the closet opened again, and this time Fred was pushed and locked inside with me.
“What the hell guys?” Fred said, pushing on the door, but it wouldn’t open.
“Nuh uh.” George tutted from the other side of the door, “You two will be staying in there until you’ve confessed your undying love for each other.”
“And.” Ginny added, “We don’t care if we have to lock you in there for a week. We won’t let you out until you confess.”
Fred patted his pockets, obviously looking for his wand.
“Let me guess.” I said, “They took it too?”
He looked up, his long hair slightly falling in front of his eyes, “Looks like they did, what do you think they’re playing at?” He asked.
I shrugged giving him a small smile, “Something about confessing?”
“You two know why you’re in there!” Ginny’s voice ran through the wooden door.
Even in the dim light, I could Fred roll his eyes, muttering something under his breath that I couldn’t quite comprehend.
Both of us settled for sitting on the floor next to each other, “How long do you think they’ll keep us here?” I asked.
Fred gave a quiet chuckle, “Dunno. But you heard what they said, they won’t hesitate keeping us in here for a week.”
“Pity.” I muttered causing him to laugh.
The two of us stayed in the dark silence, casually talking about the most random things ever.
“Do you think that they’ll really lock us in here for a week?” I asked, resting my head on his shoulder.
No answer came from my companion, I lifted my head off of his shoulder, “Freddie, are you okay?”
He bit his lip as he muttered, “Screw it.” Then he cupped my face in his hands before crashing his lips onto mine.
I was knocked back slightly from the force of the kiss, immediately placing my hands on his shoulders in order to maintain my balance.
I have always dreamed of what it would be like to kiss Fred Weasley. Now, I was getting first-hand experience.
We both pulled apart minutes later, in need of air and the temperature of the room seemed to have gone up by a few degrees.
“That’s was amazing.” Fred said with a small chuckle.
I giggled, “Best snog of my life.”
He smiled, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
“Be my girlfriend?” He asked so quietly, that I doubted that I heard it right.
“Come again?”
“Be my girlfriend?” He repeated.
I grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Gladly.”
Fred beamed as if someone has just handed him the world on a golden platter, pressing a brief kiss on my lips, “I love you.”
I giggled, “I love you too.”
The door of the closet suddenly opened, the two of us having to adjust to the light after being in the darkness for so long.
“Finally.” George said with a proud smile, “Thought we’d have to lock you two in for a week.”
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Merry Christmas | Fred x Reader
Prompt requested by @n3ssm0nique: Best friends were all that you and Fred were. Right? Or at least that’s what you thought. But will Christmas at the Burrow change things?
Warnings: literally absolute adorable fluff JFC, Fred being adorable, George being George
Word Count: 5.6k words
A/N: I AM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC IT IS SO FUCKING CUTE My first Fred fic, babeyyy!! Weasley Nation Rise! Just an FYI, we are wholeheartedly pretending that the Burrow didn’t get destroyed for this fic hehe.
Flashbacks told in italics.
“Thank you for letting me stay with your family for the holiday, Mrs. Weasley,” you graciously tell the woman in the kitchen who hovers over a kettle, brewing you a cup of tea. You sit on a chair in the dining room, keeping quietly to yourself, hands folded in your lap. The sunlight streams in from the window, warming you up, the tip of your nose still chilly from your travels here. The Burrow was still quiet; it was early in the morning when you arrived, expecting everyone to be up, but you should have known better that only Molly Weasley would be up at this hour. Everyone wanted to catch up on their sleep while on holiday from school.
Mrs. Weasley turned around to offer you the warmest smile, “No need to thank me, dear. You are always welcome in our home. And please, call me Molly.” She pours you a cup of tea in a delicate piece of china that you knew she saved for when guests came in fear that if she used it in her regular rotation of dining wear her children were bound to break it. “Drink up, dear. You must be freezing. The wind is unforgiving this time of year,” she adds, wrapping a blanket around you making you smile at her motherly gesture.
This year you were spending the Christmas holiday with the Weasleys due to your parents work schedule. They were traveling abroad for work which made you upset that this would be the one year you haven’t spent the holidays together. But when you mentioned in passing that you would be spending the holidays alone this year in passing to George Weasley, he insisted that you would spend it with the Weasleys. You told him that the offer was kind, but you didn’t mind going to your aunt and uncle’s house to spend it with them and your cousins, but George said you would have more fun spending it with his family. Which you knew he was right, so you eventually gave in.
Spending Christmas with the Weasleys also meant more time with Fred which made your heart flutter. You had been best friends with the twins since year three, but you and Fred became especially close in your fourth year. Since then, you two were inseparable. But the more time you spent with Fred, you eventually grew romantic feelings for him. You feared that these new feelings towards Fred would ruin your friendship, so you had kept it all bottled up, knowing that it was best to just stay friends and nothing more.
As you sipped on your tea, still wrapped up in the blanket Moly gave you, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Molly hovered over the stove again, this time cooking up a large amount of breakfast foods for the many people who would be dining this morning. “Oh, (Y/N)!” Ginny says when she reaches the bottom of the stairs. “I didn’t know you were coming this early,” she skips over to you, giving you a large hug. You had always taken a liking to Ginny and how outspoken she was. You had to be if you were the only girl amongst the Weasley boys. “Fred! George! (Y/N) is here!” Ginny yells up the stairs. “Wait until they see you. They couldn’t shut up about how excited they were for you to get here. Especially Fred,” she tells you with a wink. Ginny knew about your little crush on Fred after she coerced you to tell her after she told you about her crush on Harry.
After the words fall out of Ginny’s mouth, you hear bumbling and crashing from up the stairs before wild running down the stairs. “Easy, boys!” Molly yells at them while flipping bacon over in the pan. “(Y/N) is not going anywhere! No need to rush,” she laughs at them before looking at you with a smile. Molly knew how much her boys loved you. She shook her head while laughing, continuing to cook up enough sunny side eggs to choke a horse.
George saw you first and a beaming smile came on his face. “There she is!” he yells as you laughed, scooping you up in the biggest hug, spinning you around. “I’m so glad you’re here!” he exclaims as you wildly giggle. He places you down gently before looking over at his mother, “Merlin’s beard, Mum, the poor girl is in a straitjacket the way you bundled her up.” George helps you get out of the blanket, wrapping it over your shoulders lightly. “Much better, right? Now you can give people a proper hug,” he teases, hugging you once more.
“Hey, save some for the rest of us,” a voice calls from behind George. You pull away from George and see Fred patiently waiting to give you a warm welcome. When your eyes meet, your heart instantly starts beating faster and a pink hue makes its way up to your cheeks, warming your face instantly. A small smile dances on your lips as Fred gives you a cheeky grin. “Hey, you,” he winks, making his way over to you.
Fred engulfs you in a hug, picking you up and spinning you around similar to George, holding onto you tightly. He puts you down as you beam, hands resting on his shoulders. “Hi, Fred,” you smile up at him, eyes locked on his, allowing yourself to relax under his touch. The joy on his face was evident, his eyes twinkling with happiness and his mouth drawn into a toothy smile.
The two of you just stood there for a moment before George clears his throat, making his presence still known. “Alright, enough of that you two,” he speaks, knowing very well that the two of you had unspoken feelings for the other. George liked using that as leverage against the two of you when he wanted something to go his way. And this holiday, he was going to make sure that the two of you were going to confess those feelings to each other. “We’re glad that you came for the holiday, (Y/N). It’s gonna be wicked time.”
You pull your gaze away from Fred, peeling your hands away from his shoulders, but Fred keeps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug as you smile. This was fine for best friends, right? “I was just telling your mum thank you for having me. I’m excited that I can spend it with my best friends and their family,” you beam as Fred squeezes your shoulders.
“Breakfast!” Molly calls to the rest of the house. With that, you immediately hear footsteps run down the stairs that are unmistakably Ron’s.
Behind Ron follows Harry, the both of them with major bedhead, still in their pajamas. “When did (Y/N) get here?” Ron asks, raspy with morning voice, rubbing his eyes as he tries to get used to the sunlight.
You shake your head, “Good to see you too, Ronald.” He chuckles as you pull him into a big hug, Ron squeezing you tight. Ron was like your younger brother. He was always pushing your buttons, but in the most playful way possible. “Hey, Potter,” you rustle the other boy’s hair as he laughs, giving you a small hey.
Everyone gathered around the table, taking a seat and a plate, piling mixed breakfast foods onto it. The sounds of happy munching and forks hitting plates filled the air. Light chatter between siblings and friends ensued as you sat and took in the atmosphere. The Weasleys were always so happy and that’s why you loved the family so much. They always managed to make the best out of whatever situation was thrown at them. No matter how dark times got, they were able to find lightness and laughter. When you first became friends with the twins, you were in a really sad place, always very homesick. But when the twins came into your life, they brought so much joy and hope into your life. Now you can’t help but feel out of place when you are not with them.
Fred interrupts everyone’s conversations and speaks, “Since (Y/N) is the guest of the house, sorry Harry, you don’t count anymore,” Harry shrugs, “(Y/N) gets to pick what’s on the agenda for today.” Fred sends you a smile and a wink making you lightly chuckle.
“That seems like a big responsibility,” you say as everyone looks at you.
But before you can say anything else, Ginny grabs your hand and pulls you out of your chair. “I need (Y/N) first to help me with something,” she tells the group. The twins look at her suspiciously, knowing that the youngest sibling was up to something. “It’s girl things. You wouldn’t understand. Right, Mum?” Ginny looks at her mother for support as Molly gives her a thumbs up and wink. “Right then, come on (Y/N),” she drags you to the stairs.
“Ginny, I didn’t even finish breakfast,” you laugh at the girl who has an iron grip on your hand as she pulls up the winding stairs of the Burrow.
Ginny just looks at you quickly before saying, “Ron can finish your plate. Besides, if you think breakfast was a lot of food, just wait until lunch.” With that, you make it to Ginny’s bedroom as she slams the door behind her. The fourteen year old sits on her bed as you slowly take a seat next to her. “So, are you and Fred gonna get together now that you’re here?” she excitedly ask.
You sigh. You wish it were that simple. “I don’t know, Gin,” you softly smile at her. “Anything can happen, honestly.” Ginny rolls her eyes as you laugh. “Give me your brush. I’ll braid your hair,” you tell her. A bright smile finds it way to her face as she grabs her hairbrush from her desk, handing it to you, turning so her back is facing you. Carefully, you brush out her long ginger hair, pushing it away from her face as Ginny happily sighs. “I’ve always wanted a younger sister,” you tell Ginny honestly. You did feel like Ginny was your sister in an odd, yet comforting way. When you first started hanging out with the twins and Ginny arrived to Hogwarts, she kind of latched herself onto you. At first, you were a little shocked, knowing that Ginny wasn’t like this around most people. But for some reason, she trusted you and you with her. Ginny became your little sister very quickly, always coming to you for advice and guidance when it came to school, boys, and everything in between.
“I always wanted a sister,” Ginny retorts, making you chuckle. “Seriously. It can be so much sometimes with all these boys in the house and it’s just me and mum. It’s always nice when you or Hermione visits. It gives me someone to talk to rather than having to constantly hang out with those bloody idiots,” she rolls her eyes, making you laugh.
From outside the door, you hear a hey! The two of you look at the door as Ginny springs to her feet and opens the door to reveal a Harry and Ron eavesdropping on your conversation. “Get out of here, you stupid gits!” Ginny chases them down the hall as the boys laugh wildly. You laugh at the young girl’s antics before she returns into the bedroom. “Do you see what I have to deal with everyday? Drives me mad.”
Ginny returns to the bed, sitting back down as you start to braid her hair. “Poor you,” you tease. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as you braid her long hair, the ginger hair now perfectly styled and swept back from her face. You pat her shoulders, letting her know she’s done as she takes a look in the mirror, smiling at the results. “Like it?”
“Love it,” she looks at you before coming back to sit next to you. “But anyway, I really do hope that you and Fred get together. You’re perfect for each other. And Merlin, he never shuts up about you. It would just make so much sense if you two were together.”
You knew Ginny was right. Fred and you were a match made. The two of you knew how to have a good laugh, but you balanced each other out. He was always there for you when you needed him most. Fred was everything you wanted. But you feared that he didn’t feel the same in contrast to what everyone told you. The fear of rejection from your best friend was a terrifying thought, so keeping things to yourself seemed like the best option. “We’ll see, Ginny. I’m hopeful,” you brush her cheek.
As you and Ginny sat in her bedroom, what you didn’t know was Fred and George were outside, leaned against the wall, eavesdropping on your conversation much more slyly than Harry and Ron. George bumps Fred in the shoulder with a smile as Fred blushes. This just made holiday much more interesting for everyone.
------
The week has gone nothing, but smoothly. Matches of quidditch in the backyard, playing chess, late night bonfires, and long chats all ensued throughout the week and it just made you sad that the holiday would be coming to a close in the upcoming days. You were having so much fun being around the Weasleys and staying in their home. It felt like home to you in a comforting, yet odd way. It felt like you belonged here. Molly treated you like a daughter and Arthur even forgot that you were going to leave at one point, thinking that you had moved in.
But in all of the fun, you and Fred hadn’t got a moment alone. You knew that George and Ginny both were anticipating when you two would finally make a move. Hell, everyone in the house was anticipating when you two would do something. But within the week the most intimate thing that happened was you waiting to use the bathroom and Fred getting startled that you were outside waiting, him still wet from the shower, towel tied around his waist. The two of you just stared at the both, bright red blushed on your cheeks. “I didn’t know you were waiting for the bathroom,” Fred had said. “You could have just come in. You know you’re always welcome too,” he said with a wink making you gulp. And with a wink he was gone, leaving you shocked and unable to speak.
Tonight was another bonfire, everyone in the backyard circled around the roaring crackling fire. The flames were the only things illuminating everyone’s faces. You looked around with a smile, enjoying the night. Ginny sat disgruntled and mad at Ron who sat in between her and Harry, Harry also a little pissed that Ron couldn’t take a hit that he would rather be snuggled up to Ginny rather than his best mate. You giggled at the sight, sipping on your hot chocolate as Ginny just glared at you. With her eyes, she gestured for you to git next to Fred would was just a seat over from you. George was too busy telling Ron a story about one of he and Fred’s many adventures when they first got to Hogwarts, Ron completely enthralled. Sit next to him, Ginny mouths to you.
Absolutely not, you mouth back, eyes darting to see if Fred was watching you. He just stared at the fire, legs kicked up resting on a log, his hands behind his head. I’m not gonna make the first move.
Ginny rolls her eyes. Just do it, she mouths before returning her attention to George and his story. You sigh, looking at your almost empty mug of cocoa. You look at Fred longingly, wanted to be cuddled up next to him under the blanket that rests on his lap. You imagined being able to rest your head on his shoulder, his strong arms wrapped around you, protecting you as you felt safer that ever. He’d kiss the top of your head before resting his head on yours, enjoying the way your body melted into his. As you get lost in your imagination, you realize that Fred has caught you staring at him. Your breath hitches in your throat and you blush, unable to look away from him.
Fred chuckles and smiles at you softly watching you as you are curled up in a ball on the chair just a few feet away from him. Your lips were perfectly pink and the tip of your nose a little red from the windchill in the air. The jumper you wore was pulled over your hands as you cradled the mug in your hands. You looked absolutely adorable as a small smile was on your lips. Fred sighed as you giggled a little at him. He just shook his head at you jokingly before dropping his left eye in a wink.
“I’m gonna go get more cocoa,” you announce to the group, but your eyes don’t leave Fred’s as if you were just directing the statement to him, as if you were telling him to follow you. You rise from your chair and make your way inside. There are small whispers being exchanged behind you that sound like words of encouragement as you smile to yourself before going inside. Shortly after, you hear footsteps follow you inside. As you go into the kitchen and pour yourself more cocoa, you turn your head to see Fred beside you. “Hey, tiger,” you tease him.
He laughs at your nickname for him, “Hey, gorgeous.” Your heart flutters, knowing that he’s been calling you that for years, but now when he says it, it has new meaning to you. “You alright?” he asks.
You nod, happily, turning to face him, ignoring the task you originally came in here for. “More than alright. The week has been lovely,” you tell him as the two of you walk aimlessly around the lower level of the Burrow. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay with you and your family for Christmas. It means the world to me,” you genuinely tell him.
Fred smiles, “Of course. There was no way George and I were gonna let you spend it alone or with some weird family members.” You play with the cuffs of your jumper nervously, a thousand thoughts dancing around in your head about where this conversation was going to go. The two of you come to a halt as Fred speaks, “You mean a lot to me, (Y/N).”
His confession makes your heart speed up. “You mean a lot to me, too, Fred,” you confess to him, looking deep into his eyes. “Truly.”
“I don’t think you quite understand how much you mean to me. You make me feel really happy, (Y/N),” Fred tells you, taking a step closer to him. The two of you were so close that you could hold a magazine between the two of you. You can feel his breath on your cheek as you look up at him, biting your lip gently. “I really don’t know what I would do if we had never met that day at Hogwarts,” he recalls making the two of you chuckle. You remember when you met in the common room, them mid prank on a poor first year student as you had joined in on the prank. From that moment on, Fred was infatuated with you, much to your surprise. “And now we’re on our last year at Hogwarts and I’m just scared that I won’t be able to see you as much as I’d like to.”
Impulsively, you take his hand in yours. “Don’t say that,” you shake your head. “I’ll see you all the time. I’ll make sure of it. I can’t imagine living life without you, Fred, honestly,” you tell him, speaking so raw and genuine from your heart. You wanted to kiss him so badly, comfort him that there was no way he was going to get rid of you. He had you and there was no way that either of you were letting go of the other. You were so deeply connected to other that the notion of losing each other was nauseating.
Fred smiles gently before looking upward, you following his line of sight. Above you dangles a small bunch of mistletoe. Your heart stops and then starts beating impossibly faster. The both of you look back at each other, a little smile dancing on both of your lips. This was a good excuse as ever to share a kiss, you could just blame it on the mistletoe. “Mistletoe,” Fred breathes out with a light laugh, you joining. “I hate breaking traditions,” he teases you as you laugh.
“I hate nothing more than breaking a tradition,” you tease back.
Fred looks at your lips and then back at your eyes, waiting for you to do something. Gently you nod as Fred leans in closer and closer. It was like this whole scene was in slow motion as you both lean in, waiting for your lips to collide gently. You couldn’t believe this was finally happening after years of waiting and longing. You were going to kiss Fred Weasley.
“Oh, sorry,” a voice interrupts you both as you jerk away from each other. “I didn’t know I was interrupting something,” you look over to see Ron awkwardly standing in the doorway before darting away back to the group outside as the group yells at him, Ron yelling back he didn’t know in defense.
Fred huffs, “What a bloody moron.”
The moment was gone. It was over. Your chances of getting that kiss from Fred was gone. You both knew it. The two of you looked at each other sadly as you sighed. You gave him a look that said I wanted you to kiss me. He gives you a sorry look as you just stand there for another moment. “Stupid Ron,” you break the silence, making Fred laugh.
He pulls you into his side, wrapping an arm around you. “Come on, the fire is still burning,” he tells you, walking outside. “I’m not letting you get away so easily, no matter how much of an idiot Ron is,” he whispers in your ear, making you blush. What a flirt.
As you return to the group, everyone stares at you two as you walk back together. “Nothing to see here,” Fred dismisses them all as Ginny groans loudly. Fred pulls you next to him on the loveseat that was outside, not wanting you away from him now that Ron disturbed your moment. “You really are a moron though, Ron.”
Ron furrows his brows and raises his arm in defense. “What’s going on?!” he says, completely confused. Was the boy really this clueless?
“Oh, you’re bloody joking,” George says, throwing a pillow at Ron, everyone joining in, hitting Ron with a pillow, everyone erupting with laughter as Ron tries to defend himself.
Although the moment was ruined between you and Fred, this moment was heartwarming as you all picked on Ron before returning to watching the fire burn out.
-----
Two days later, Christmas morning rolled around and Ginny jumped on top of you waking you up, excitedly. “Merry Christmas, you animal!” Ginny hugs you as you groan, slowly waking up. “Mum made pancakes and there’s presents downstairs! Come on, (Y/N)!” she pulls your hands up and out of bed.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you laugh.
Suddenly, every Weasley is up and down the stairs in seconds as everyone takes their usual seats around the table. Arthur proudly shows off his muggle radio and explains that muggles listen to Christmas music this time of year, him tuning it until pleasant music emits from the small box. Molly plates everyone a large stack of pancakes dosed in maple syrup. You watch as Ginny squeals in excitement, sitting herself down next to Harry as you watch with a smile.
“Merry Christmas,” George gives you a hug.
You smile at your best friend and squeeze his torso. “Merry Christmas, Georgie.” He rolls his eyes at the nickname you coined for him as you laugh. You see Fred at the bottom of the stairs as he makes his way to you. “Merry Christmas, Fred,” you smile.
Fred pulls you into his chest for a bear hug as you sigh in him. “Merry Christmas, darling,” he whispers into your hair, placing a gentle kiss on the top. You can’t help, but blush at the gesture before the three of you take your seats at the table. “Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast? Merlin, mum, you really pulled out all the stops this year,” Fred teases his mother.
Molly smiles, “This Christmas is special this year so that warrants a special breakfast.” Molly sends a wink your way as she hands you a plate. “Merry Christmas, darling. Eat up.”
Everyone munches on the delicious plate of breakfast food, complimenting Molly on how extraordinary the meal was. And that’s when the presents start to come out. Molly and Arthur hand out presents to each of their children as the impatiently unwrap them. Each Weasley gets a hand knit sweater with their respective initial on them as you giggle as Ron pulls his over his head. It was absolutely adorable that they all had matching sweaters. “And don’t think we forgot about you two,” Molly speaks as she hands you and Harry boxes.
“Oh, you didn’t have to, Molly,” you tell her as she insists to open it. When you open it, you see a navy sweater with your initial on the front. “Oh, I love it!” you cheer. “Thank you so much,” you beam. You really did love it, immediately pulling it over your head to wear it over your pajama top.
Molly claps as you do so. “Now, you’re officially a Weasley. No need to marry Fred anymore,” she teases as Fred nearly spits out his pumpkin juice. “What?” she asks. “Did I say something wrong?” You just blush a wild shade of crimson that matches Ron’s sweater as Fred excuses himself, making George let out a wild laugh.
As if the timing couldn’t be anymore perfect, an owl flies through the window with a letter in its mouth. Arthur gets up and retrieves the letter from the owl before it flies away. “It’s for you, (Y/N),” he smiles, handing you the envelope.
You furrow your brows, not knowing who it could be from. You rip open the seal of the envelope and peel the letter open which reads:
Dearest (Y/N),
Merry Christmas, darling. We miss you so much. We are so upset that we cannot be with you on your favorite holiday. But rest assured that we will see you soon after our trip comes to a close. We have beautiful gifts for you from the places we visited and we cannot wait to give them to you. Paris is truly the most beautiful place on Earth.
We hope that you are having a grand time with the Weasleys. Give them our love and gratitude for hosting you.
We are so proud of you and everything you have done at Hogwarts, love. You are truly remarkable. We love you so much and are so excited to be reunited with you soon.
All the love in the world,
Mum and Dad
XXOO
“It’s from my parents,” you tell the group with a smile as everyone softly smiles. You look at the Polaroid pictures that they attached in the letter. Your parents are smiling in front of the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Louvre. “They’re in Paris. They send their love and gratitude to everyone. They said that they love me and miss me and they’re proud of me...” you trail off as tears start to form in your eyes. A lump starts in your throat and you become very sad and embarrassed at how you are reacting. You just miss your parents so much. “I’m sorry could you excuse me for a moment?” you ask as everyone nods, completely understanding how you feel.
You rise from the table and move into another room of the house, letting the tears slowly fall from your eyes. You are sure not to make any sounds, too embarrassed that you’re even crying in the first place. Sucking in a shaky breath, you try to collect yourself, squatting low, burying your head in your hands.
As you breathe in and out shakily, you feel a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. “Hey, shhhhh, come here,” Fred’s voice says as he pulls you into him, as you cry into his jumper that his mum made. “It’s alright, darling, it’s alright.” He sits on the floor as you rest next to him, holding onto him tight as if he would leave you. But Fred wasn’t going anywhere. “I know you miss them, but they are right. They’ll be back so soon. You know that they love you and they’re proud of you. What’s not to be proud of? You’re brilliant,” he tells you, rubbing your back in circling, gently comforting you.
Moment pass and you slowly pull away from Fred, looking at his now tear stained sweater. “Oh, man, I’m a mess,” you wipe your tears away as Fred shakes his head, brushing your hair away from your face. “Sorry about your sweater, I can clean it up.”
“I like it better like this,” he says with a smile. You just laugh at him as you sniffle. “I have something for you,” he tells you as you furrow your brows.
He pulls a small box out of his pocket. You sigh, “Fred, I thought we weren’t buying gifts for each other this year. We said we were saving money to go on a trip after graduation.”
Fred shakes his head, “I couldn’t resist.” You slap his arm teasingly. “Open it.”
You slowly open the small box and your eyes widen. Inside is a small golden locket engraved with beautiful detailing. You open the locket and inside is a picture of you and Fred from last year in the common room, laughing on the couch together. The memory brings an instant smile to your face. This was the sweetest, most thoughtful gift anyone has ever bought for you. “Fred, I don’t have any words. This is beautiful,” you tell him.
“You like it?” he asks, nervously.
“Do I like it?” you laugh. “I love it. Thank you so much,” you tell him. “Could you do the clasp?” you ask, turning around and handing him the necklace. Carefully, Fred places it around your neck and clasps the necklace. You hold the locket in your fingers as you smile at him. “Why did you do this?” you ask, furrowing your brows.
Fred nervously gulps. “Because...” he starts. “You know, (Y/N)...like I said the other night...we’re close and I really cannot see myself without you.”
Your heart flutters as you look around only to recognize that you and Fred are in the same spot as you were the other night from the bonfire. Mistletoe dangles above you again and Fred follows the sightline. He stops talking and looks at you. This time no one was going to stop from you from doing this.
In this instant, you lean in and press your lips to Fred’s, connecting you two in a sweet kiss. At first, Fred is a little shocked, but takes no time in kissing you back, his hand cupping your cheek, pulling you closer to him. You hands cup his face as your lips move in sync with each other. His lips taste of syrup and you smile into the kiss. It just felt so right like this was how your first kiss was supposed to go.
Slowly, you pull away from the kiss, searching his eyes for what he was going to say. But for the first time in forever, Fred is speechless. “I hate breaking traditions,” you tease him, making him chuckle.
Fred shakes his head and kisses you again, this time more excited and passionate. His arms wrap around you, letting you know that you aren’t going anywhere. You were his now and there was no way he was letting you go. Not like you wanted to. This was home. The kiss is gentle, but loving and passionate. Your heart is beating so fast and your mind is reeling. This felt like a dream.
You pull away again from the kiss, pressing your forehead against each other. “Just so you know,” Fred speaks, “I was going to kiss you whether there was or wasn’t mistletoe.” You giggle at his antics, knowing that he was telling the truth. “This does mean you’re my girlfriend now, right?” he asks, genuinely asking, making you laugh.
“I hope so, Weasley,” you tell him. “That’s my present to you.”
He jokingly pumps his fist in the air. He places a quick kiss to your lips again. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” he whispers to you.
Smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt, you whisper back, “Merry Christmas, tiger.”
Fred pulls you up from the floor, giving your hands a squeeze. “And now to face the taunting,” he warns you. “Be prepared. But on a brave face. This is just the beginning. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into dating a Weasley.”
The two of you emerge back into the dining room, hand in hand making Ginny cheer and George stand up, clapping. “It’s a bloody Christmas miracle!” he yells, making you laugh as Ron just sits there, absolutely lost at what is going on, mouth full on pancakes. You blush wildly as Fred pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead. “Welcome to the family!” George mockingly yells, embracing you and Fred in a dramatic hug.
In this moment, you have never felt more at home. It was the most wonderful Christmas you had ever had and you couldn’t wait for more.
#fred weasley#fred and george#fred and goerge weasley#fred weasley imagine#fred imagine#fred weasley x reader#fred x reader#fred weasley x reader imagine#fred x reader imagine#fred weasley x muggle!reader#fred weasley x fem!reader#fred weasley x female reader#hp#harry potter#harry potter fanfic#harry potter imagine
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The road home
Summary: Lily watches Harry and Ginny finding their way back to each other following the end of the war.
Note: For @madhulika18, who asked for more Hinny moments as seen by James and Lily. I could never decide if this is really part of Eyes Glistening (because Harry and Ginny have drama really, and I don't like them having drama), but it works either way, so I hope you enjoy these moments (also, I have a soft spot for Lily and Harry talking, so...)
_______
It’s all about the words that aren’t being said.
Once, a long time ago, Lily lived that with James. But it was different and, though, of course, it didn’t seem like that at the time, it was easier too. Her problems were unknowing her feelings, not understanding why she enjoyed his company and why she craved his smile, his light. She had fancied him for a long time before she understood what it was what she really felt for him — and until then it was only her heart beating faster when they would touch each other without meaning too (a brush of hands, sitting together closer than necessary), enjoying the perfume he’d left on his trace, finding excuses to be with him.
But after she had understood what she felt for him, somehow it had been easy. Awkward, sure, that first date when she was feeling stupid near him — until she remembered this was James, and being with him was good and blissful and then kissing him had felt as natural as breathing —, but there was never a question about how they felt about each other, never doubts that they would be together.
They had fought over many things, until they perfected the art of compromising, of understanding each other’s view, but there was never a breakup, never something that really kept them apart.
They are lucky on this, she knows.
Especially when she sees the look on Harry’s face, the way his eyes can’t help but follow Ginny as she walks around between the tables of the Great Hall, stopping to share words with her friends.
They haven’t talked yet. Lily knows this because Harry was gone with Ron and Hermione after the battle and then he slept for a full day. When he woke up, he called his parents and they talked then — the most difficult conversation Lily had ever had in her life and the one she knew she needed most. She and James. They needed to understand what had happened, why it had cost Harry’s life and what it had meant, but nothing had really prepared her to know her son had died.
Only the thought of it sends shivers through her body.
Harry is fine now, having come down to the Great Hall to lunch; there are fewer people at Hogwarts two days after the Battle, so they manage to find a place for them to sit quietly. It’s almost peaceful.
Except Harry is clearly not at peace.
‘Go talk to her,’ she whispers to him, and Harry turns to her with those eyes that are full of ghosts lately — he has seen and lived and died too much.
‘She doesn’t want me,’ he answers, breathing heavily as if the words are physically hurting him.
‘How do you know?’ James asks, exchanging a confused look with Lily.
‘Because she hasn’t come to talk to me.’
Lily thinks Harry didn’t go to her either, so maybe this is just a case of miscommunication. But she doesn’t say anything, because she believes things have to happen at the right time. And she has been watching Ginny too; every time Harry looks the other way, she glances in his direction, an expression on her face that Lily cannot understand exactly.
It seems to be ablaze.
_______
Later, Lily will define it as a dance where the dancers aren’t supposed to touch each other but still they synchronize their steps perfectly.
It’s unnerving, really, and she doesn’t know how they are really managing it, but if there is a quality she could attribute to both Harry and Ginny is stubbornness.
They can’t ignore each other, not really, not with how much they encounter each other — funerals and homages and dinners over the Burrow and rebuilding Hogwarts —, so instead they adopt a sort of relationship that’s just a shadow of how much they got along together.
Lily saw them before they even dated or had acknowledged their feelings for each other, and Harry and Ginny had shined together with chemistry as if they were two ingredients in a potion that demanded to be together. It was only friendship but there was sparkle and understanding and compassion and brightness. Lily remembers thinking that even if they didn’t develop romantic feelings for each other, they were truly soulmates.
And this is just one of the reasons why their current formal courtesy with each other bothers her so much. If they wanted to be only friends, there wasn’t much she could do. But they are not even friends lately, just two people who had gone through so much and hadn’t been able to share anything with each other despite wanting very much.
That’s the other thing that annoys her. They want more. Both of them.
She knows Harry, of course — he shares the same expressions and he wears his feelings on the same sleeve Lily does, so it’s easy —, and Lily likes to think she knows Ginny too, for the times they met, for all they’ve talked and for the fact that Ginny is usually blatant on her feelings when they are at the edge.
Usually. This time, it seems their stubbornness is getting the better of both of them.
They are alone most of the days of May. Hermione has gone to Australia to find her parents and Ron went with her, and Lily thinks this would be perfect for them to get together again – to have time to talk and to truly live their relationship without the threat of a storm above their heads.
But they don’t go to each other. They stay apart, even though Lily sees the cracks in their stubbornness when Harry breaks a glass after hearing Ginny talking about exchanging letters with an ex-boyfriend, and when Ginny suddenly leaves the room after Harry mentions Kingsley’s proposal to start the Aurors course.
James sees it too. He is always frowning when they are in the same room, and Lily knows no one rooted more for that relationship than James. So she is not surprised that he approaches her one morning when they are cleaning the mess the Death Eaters made in her office.
‘Do you remember when you forbade me from intervening in Harry’s love life?’ he asks in a nonchalant voice, cleaning a stain that looks a lot like blood on the carpet.
Lily nods with her head.
‘Maybe it’s time to change that rule?’ James asks then, now sounding hopeful.
Lily throws him the briefest of the looks, without turning away her attention from the cauldrons she is supposed to check if anything is worth saving.
‘Harry would hate it if we did anything.’
‘Harry would hate it if he knew we were doing anything.’
‘And James Potter can be discreet? How many detentions did you get just because you couldn’t help but flaunt your work?’
He raises his eyebrows challengingly.
‘That Slug Club dinner on my birthday. I was so discreet no one ever found out what we were doing.’
Lily blushes. He was absurdly quiet that night, indeed, despite her attempts otherwise.
‘Fine, you’ve got a point. Go on, but I’m warning you, if Ginny realizes what you are trying to do, she will hex you and I won’t stop.’
‘As long as she hexes me on their wedding day, I won’t complain,’ James says unabashedly, and Lily has to grin.
She is not feeling much confident — James’ love plans took him three years to her agree to date him, after all, and even then she had fallen in love with him when he had given up on any plan at all —, but she can’t deny James is creative and it’s better trying anything than watching Harry sigh all over the place, heartbroken and unhappy.
During the year they were out, their house has been searched over and over; their furniture is broken and there are spots of red ink — or blood — in every room, with curses or slurs written on every wall. They could just easily destroy the house and build a new one, but it feels good to clean the place; it feels like a new beginning.
Maybe this is what James is hoping to give Harry and Ginny because he asks for her help in rebuilding their house. Ginny accepts surprisingly quickly, probably guessing that Harry will still be occupied with the work at Hogwarts.
‘Thanks for the help,’ Lily says after she and Ginny manage to clean the debris away from the stairs, so now the first floor is available for them to start cleaning up the rooms.
‘No problem, it’s good to be out of the house,’ Ginny notes, drying the sweat on her face. ‘Sometimes it feels… too claustrophobic there.’
Lily raises her eyebrows, indicating around the hall, where the number of things still to be organized makes the corridor seem a lot smaller than it is. Ginny gives a small chuckle.
‘It’s just — Mom is trying to compensate, I think. Ron is not here and I am the youngest and she needs to take care of something, after — after everything that happened. So, yeah, I need some time to myself.’
‘Are you sure there is nothing else you would like to do?’ Lily asks, concerned now. Ginny just shrugs.
‘Since I can’t fly, this seems like the best available option,’ she says. ‘And it feels good to be doing something — and there is so much to do here. The Death Eaters made a mess.’
‘That could be said for everywhere.’
‘And everyone,’ Ginny adds softly, and she returns to the cabinet she is trying to fix without saying anything further, but Lily doesn’t think she needs to. She saw Neville’s bruises, she saw Luna’s scars and she has a pretty good idea of how it was at Hogwarts under Voldemort’s regime.
But Ginny keeps her marks quietly, and Lily knows there is only one person she will be able to talk to.
The next day, James comes home earlier from Hogwarts with Harry. There is an awkward moment when Harry and Ginny meet in the kitchen and James mentions that now the main work over Hogwarts is done, Harry volunteered to help get his home back again.
‘Any problem?’ James asks genially, making both Harry and Ginny jump.
‘No,’ they say at the same time, and it doesn’t convince anyone.
Lily never noticed how big their house was until she realizes Harry and Ginny still manage to avoid each other except during mealtimes, so she decides they can get past subtlety. She and James start to ask them for help for the same rooms until they eventually are paired in the same tasks.
She doesn’t hear them talking, but it seems to work, albeit at the slowest pace ever.
‘You won’t believe who asked Sirius for an interview,’ James says one night after they settled for the day and they are having dinner before Ginny returns to her house. ‘Rita Skeeter.’
‘What scoop does she want now?’ Harry asks, rolling his eyes. ‘I am still awaiting her biography about me.’
‘What will be called?’, Ginny asks, and Harry turns to her with his eyes already shining with the joke.
‘Easy. Harry Potter, chosen or undesirable one?’
She laughs – it’s a short tentative laugh, but it’s there, and Harry smiles too. James exchanges a look with Lily, but she shakes her head warningly to him.
‘What Skeeter wanted with Sirius?’ she asks, putting the conversation back into place. It was just a shared joke. There is still a long road ahead.
‘Oh, gossip on you and me, actually, which unfortunately is something Sirius thinks it’s too funny to pass – and also he has a soft spot for Skeeter.’
Harry chokes on his drink.
‘Soft spot?’
‘Oh, please, don’t tell me –‘ Ginny raises her eyebrows, exchanging a bewildered look with Harry. ‘Sirius and Rita Skeeter?’
James chuckles.
‘No, he just likes her because of the animagus stuff. He says he can’t fault her for being one.’
‘Oh, much better,’ Ginny sighs. Then she bits her lip before looking back at Harry. ‘Can you imagine them together? Rita Skeeter as your godmother?’
‘I would have to quit Sirius from his job as godfather,’ Harry says, pretending to gag. ‘He would clearly be underqualified.’
There is another small giggle and that’s it for the night.
They are talking again at least, even if it is still not like it used to be. There are no whispered words during their time together during the day and they don’t seem to be secretly snogging. But they talk sometimes, and once or twice Lily hears a laugh when she passes the room they are in.
But it’s only two weeks later that something seems to happen.
Lily is in her room, finishing to set up the bed so she and James will finally be able to sleep there, when the voices catch her up on her window.
‘You are bleeding.’
‘It’s just a cut, Harry, no big deal.’
‘It was a splinter, there can still be something there.’
‘I told you, I took everything off. I will just press it, it will stop bleeding in a minute.’
‘I can help you, I – I know a lot of healing spells.’
There is a pause.
‘Me too, but I also know that the bleeding will stop. It’s not deep.’
‘How do you –‘
‘Same way you know, Harry.’ There is a note of tension in Ginny’s voice. ‘I had to learn.’
‘Ginny –‘
‘What? Do you think you were the only one who had a hard time?’
And she storms inside, giving him no time to answer.
Harry is subdued that night, even more reserved than natural, and when she passes his room late at night, she sees the light is on. For a second Lily wonders if she should call James, but then she sighs and knocks on his door.
‘Harry?’
In answer, the door opens quietly. Lily enters his room to see Harry fully clothed on his bed; he is holding something and, with a start, she realizes it’s the Marauder’s Map. That’s a weird thing for Harry to be consulting in the middle of the night.
‘Can’t sleep?’ she asks, sitting on the edge of his bed and running her hand through his hair comfortingly. He shrugs. ‘Anything to do with that fight with Ginny?’
He raises his eyebrows.
‘Hearing behind doors, Mum?’
‘No need, you were talking under my window.’
‘Next fight I will make sure we are far,’ he says with a grimace.
‘There will be a next fight?’
‘I don’t know,’ he admits, and this prospect doesn’t seem to make him better. ‘If I asked you something, would you be honest with me?’
‘Wasn’t I always, Harry?’
He smiles for a second before his expression is grave and uncertain.
‘Do you think I am self-centred?’
Lily blinks.
‘No one would accuse you of being selfish, Harry, I mean –’
She doesn’t know where to begin, considering all the sacrifices she had seen Harry make over the years — he gave his life —, but Harry shakes his head.
‘Not selfish, I mean – the summer after my fourth year, when Voldemort was back, I said plenty of things –’
‘You were under a lot of stress, no one –’
‘I know, but I was complaining about how everything happened to me and now I am thinking that maybe, somehow, I never stopped to think that things happen to other people too.’
Lily squeezes his hand.
‘It is not a suffering competition, Harry.’
‘I don’t know if I see it that way. I mean, when I saw Neville for the first time, with all his bruises and looking so hurt, I still wished it could be me, staying at Hogwarts and fighting because it seemed easier and it never occurred to me that she could – they could – have had a difficult time too. It still seemed… just school.’
He pauses to pick up the Marauder’s Map, opening it even if there is no map showing there.
‘I used to take the Map last year to watch over her,’ he whispers, his face flushing. ‘And I saw her dot and I never thought that she could be in trouble. I knew they were rebelling, but… it didn’t feel like it was something real.’
‘Well, that’s why you should talk to each other. None of you will understand if you keep avoiding each other.’
‘She is mad at me.’
‘Of course she is. You are avoiding her.’
He doesn’t answer.
‘You need to talk, Harry. Go there. Try it.’
He blinks, a hint of a smile on his lips.
‘Are you suggesting that I go visit my ex-girlfriend in the middle of the night?’
‘I’m pretty sure you will just talk if she doesn’t hex you first,’ Lily says brightly. Then she smiles softly. ‘You could wait until tomorrow, Harry, but I have the feeling you both have been waiting too long. And this isn’t any of your styles. You are both people of action.’
Harry grins now, standing up.
‘I will go then. Thanks for the tip, Mum.’
Lily accepts the soft kiss he gives her on the cheek.
‘Just be safe, Harry.’
_______
Harry seems to be in a better mood the next morning, despite the fact that he slept a few hours that night — Lily knows he returned by five, just as the sun was rising.
But she doesn’t say anything, just smiling to herself when Harry’s face lights up when the fireplace erupts into emerald flames and Ginny appears, dusting her clothes. They exchange a look that it’s still not there yet, but it’s soft and promising. James looks in her direction, surprised, and she promises to explain later.
It’s not Summer yet, but the days of May and then June get warmer and then Harry and Ginny are spending more time outside, though there isn’t much to fix there.
At least, not material things.
James keeps an eye on them — he wouldn’t resist not doing so —, telling her that most of the time they just seem to be taking long strolls and talking.
One day they return from their walk holding hands, and Lily has to lock James inside the room so he doesn’t say anything. Harry and Ginny are still not there.
The road home takes time.
On the second weekend of June they have the hottest day yet and they take some time off; James transfigures a pool in the backyard that neither Harry nor Ginny seems to enjoy other than to sit at the edge of the pool and take off their shoes to wet their feet. Instead of helping to ease any tension, the pool seems to create some weight over them, making them more silent than usual, so James suggests they go flying instead.
‘My Firebolt is gone,’ Harry remembers, wincing, and Lily knows it’s not the broomstick he is really missing right now. Harry lost a friend that day.
‘Mine was burnt by the Carrows last year,’ Ginny adds, her voice casual as if it’s nothing important.
They don’t end up doing anything after that.
In the afternoon, James gets a call from Sirius and Lily decides to just stay home, finishing the Wolfsbane Potions she will need to deliver to Remus by the end of the week. She is quietly lost in her favourite potion world when she hears the voices, and it’s just because they are whispering, rather than talking normally, that it draws her attention.
‘Are you sure?’ Ginny is asking, her voice unusually hesitant.
‘Only if you are,’ he whispers, sounding just as unstable.
Lily approaches the window and withdraws the curtains as little as she needs. Harry and Ginny are still by the pool, standing facing each other, and without looking away from Harry, she takes off her shirt, to reveal her bikini under it.
Harry gasps, but Lily knows that what is taking his breath away are the marks on Ginny’s torso — faint scars of cuts and small yellowed bruises that remained from the battle, over a month ago.
Ginny bits her lip, her arms trembling as if she wants to cover herself. Harry finally takes a step in her direction, looking her in the eyes now.
'Thank you for showing me,’ he whispers and then he sighs. 'My turn'.
His hands are shaking as he goes to unbutton his shirt, until Ginny raises her hands.
'May I?'
Harry nods slowly.
Ginny keeps her head high, not looking away from Harry's eyes, until she finishes opening all the buttons from his shirt and taking it off.
Then her eyes fall to his chest and Ginny freezes.
Lily knows what she is seeing, even though Lily can't see it from her angle: Harry's new lightning scar, across his chest, over his heart, where the Killing Curse hit him for the second time in his life.
'Harry,’ Ginny sighs, pain evident in her voice. She raises her hand, looking at him, questioning him silently. Harry nods once more.
Then Ginny takes a step closer to him, touching his chest, and Lily knows that she must be feeling his heart over it.
She lets the curtain fall and returns to her potion.
She is not surprised when they return home holding hands and she only tells James later (so he doesn't say anything during dinner because she knows her husband) that Ginny kissed Harry softly on the lips when she thought no one was seeing them.
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Based on this Headcanon list (x) : Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! <This is Part 5!>
A/N: As said, I switched to a headcanon list because we have 7 books to get through, and it will take years if I only do the blurbs. Oh, and if you are in the market for some cute pro-Weasley shirts, check out my 'Weasley Suprmeacy' shirt here!
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* It’s your third year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter’s second, and you’re having a pretty good year so far
* You’ve made your house team, and you’re doing pretty good in school, in fact, you’ve got a knack for potions and herbology
* “Good thing too or we’d be stuck up a creek without ya” Fred says grinning as he watches you show him how to make the simple “cure for boils” potion
* “And not sooner either, these things hurt more than you think” George complains, wincing every time he touches one
* “Well what did you think was going to happen when you tried to go into the girl’s changing room?” You ask with a sigh
* “In our defense we didn’t know it was the girls changing room, we just wanted a shortcut to the pitch”
* You hide a smile, that sounds about right
* Life is pretty good
* Until it isn’t
* “Enemy’s of the heir beware” the words leave your mouth in a murmur
* Your eyes trained on the blood-coated words on the wall
* You think you're going to be sick
* “That’s right you’ll be next mudbloods!” Draco shouts and immediately you feel two hands clasp both of your shoulders
* One is Fred’s and the other is George’s
* They insist on walking you back to your dorm
* “Really I’ll be fine, you should go check on your brother, Ginny was looking a little pale too” you insist but they keep pushing you forward
* “We can do that after you get back to your common room safely”
* If you’re Muggle-born they’re really protective of you over the next few months
* You’ve woken up to taping on your window more than once, yawning as you walk over to see who it is
* Only to see your favorite red-headed pair of doppelgängers
* “Couldn’t sleep” Fred says with a yawn
* “We were too afraid the heir of Slytherin would kill us in our sleep” George adds
* “Best we sleep here, so you can protect us and keep us safe” they finish in unison
* The next morning your dorm mates wake up to see them sleeping on the floor at the foot of your bed, drooling all over each other, wands clasped in their hands
* They absolutely refuse to let you stay in the castle for Christmas
* “Nope, no, no way in bloody hell,” George says defiantly
* “But I want-“
* “If you’ve got a death wish, you can just come home with us and eat mum’s cooking-”
* “So good you’ll go to heaven”
* They’re tugging you to the station before you can even protest
* “What about Ron?” You ask
* “What about Ron? He’s a big boy, besides it looks like those three are scheming-“ George starts
* “Schemings best left to the young ones, us old-timers have no place in it, best for us to go home and have some Christmas pudding, isn’t that right Percy?”
* Percy, who was only passing by gives you three a quizzical look before turning away with a shake of his head
* “Whatever nonsense you’re up to, leave me out of it”
* Fred turns to you with a grin
* “See even Percy agrees, leave the nonsense to the youngins’”
* Percy just keeps shaking his head
* “Come, Ginny, let’s sit somewhere away from them- don’t want you to be around bad influences”
* Their parents are thrilled to meet you
* “So you’re (Y/N)! We’ve heard so much about you-“
* So the twins talk about you at home huh?
* “- from Percy, he says your next in line to make prefect in your house,” she says patting you affectionately on the shoulder
* Percy nods from behind her
* “Cedric’s been recommending you to Sprout” He adds
* Your face burns and the twins grin behind you
* “Prefect (Y/N) I like the sound of that” George says with a mischievous grin
* “Don’t forget us when you’re rich and famous, soaking in the prefect bathroom like a big shot”
* You roll your eyes
* “Well since I’m such a big shot I guess I can overlook when you explode a toilet or two”
* The Weasley’s stay up until well past midnight for Christmas
* Molly knits you a matching scarf for the sweater she gave you last year
* “Well doesn’t it look dashing on you!” She says with a smile and she wraps it around your neck
* George and Fred are nervous you might not like it but you grin
* “I love it”
* George scrambles over
* “You want my scarf too?” He says already unwrapping his from around his neck
* “Take mine too, you look awfully cold,” Fred says
* There’s a Polaroid somewhere of you swaddled in five scarfs while Ginny and the twins laugh
* Percy is in the background looking disappointed- but one of those scarves is how
* At night, when the sleeping arrangements are all drawn up you’re with Ginny
* You lie side by side in her bed, you’re half asleep
* “Can I talk to you about something”
* You yawn and nod, not moving
* And then when she doesn’t say anything you say-
* “About Harry?”
* There’s another silence, but this one feels heavier somehow, and it wakes you up a bit
* “Just send him some chocolates for Valentine’s Day” you yawn patting her shoulder
* “Sign it with ‘your secret admirer’ if it makes you too nervous” you yawn again, feeling your eyes droop
* Is that why she’s been looking so sick lately? Too many nights lying awake at night thinking about a boy who doesn’t share her feelings
* “You know Ginny if something does nothing but cause you pain, and I know it’s not very Gryffindor-like, but you can just walk away from it yknow” you’re slurring, barely awake.
* “I can’t just walk away?” She asks and you nod
* “Of course you can”
* And then you fall asleep
* Completely forgetting about the conversation until it’s Valentine’s Day and you see Harry followed around by a singing valentine
* “So this is the fantastic advice you gave Ginny?” George asks, a teasing smile lifting onto his face
* “I told her to give chocolates! I don’t know a boy alive who doesn’t like sweets”
* “Well where’s our chocolate then?” Fred asks expectantly
* You look to George for some support, but he’s looking at you expectantly too
* “Oh I get it, all your chocolates are saved for pretty boy Diggory”
* You roll your eyes and shake your head while walking away
* What’s up with them and thinking that you have a crush on Cedric
* They do come back to their dorms with small bags of chocolate on their beds, just two pieces each
* But they smile like you gave them a lump of gold
* “Did you make them by hand?” One teases
* “Tasted like they were made with love, and all those warm fuzzy feelings” the other finishes
* You roll your eyes
* “You should just be glad the house-elf I found didn’t mind me taking a bit of chocolate”
* It surprises both of them that you actually did make them by hand
* They were really just teasing
* George is the one to make the first move
* “Well next time you go invite us too, I think it would be fun to learn how to make chocolates”
* George wraps an arm around your shoulders
* “We could give them to Snape and make him think he has a secret admirer,” Fred says with a grin, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders as well
* “Send him a singing Telegraph and everything” George grins
* You shake your head and laugh, what a couple of bozos
* It is pretty funny to see Snape get all flustered though
* They get even more protective when Muggle-born students start getting petrified
* You’re never without one, or both of them
* “Looks like your bodyguard is here,” Cedric says with a teasing smile when he sees George waiting in the corridor outside your class for you
* You nod, moving to go meet him when you feel a gentle touch on your arm
* “Let him know that if he’s ever looking for a career change, I’ll gladly fill the spot” he ruffles your hair before you leave and you can see the teasing coming from a mile away
* But George doesn’t say anything when you walk over to him, walking together to transfigurations in moderate silence
* “So you and Diggory are pretty close” he finally says, breaking the silence
* You look up at him, his eyebrows are threaded together and his mouth is pinched into a frown
* It makes you think about the time you thought that maybe they wouldn’t spend as much time with you anymore when you were brewing the amortentia potion
* “Yeah but we’re closer,” you say bumping your shoulder against his arm, he laughs
* “That’s true”
* The mischievous glint in his eyes returns
* “I doubt he’ll feel the same once he finds out you drool in your sleep”
* You roll your eyes shoving him lightly which earns a laugh
* “I mean really (Y/N), it’s just a bit excessive innit? Most mornings your pillow is more drool than Cotten at this point, you should really get it checked-“
* You shove him harder laughing when he starts laughing
* “Big words from the boy who snores so loud his dorm mates left him floating on the lake”
* “It wasn’t my dorm mates, it was Fred and he did it to because I pretended I was him when I said something that upset Oliver Wood”
* Your eyebrows thread together
* Haven’t seen much of Oliver around now that quidditch has been canceled
* “What did you say?”
* George turns bright red and turns away
* “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time around that keeper for Hufflepuff lately” Wood was especially cranky as of late now that quidditch was canceled for the rest of the year
* And George doesn’t know why, but he gets so irked by it
* What does Wood care who he spends time with off the pitch? It’s not like he’s been taking it easy on you during matches or anything
* “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to talk to someone you’re attracted to”
* And then realizing how it sounded, and flushing red George claimed he was Fred
* He sounded like he was a jealous boyfriend or something
* It’s almost mortifying
* Almost
* “Nothing, don’t worry about it”
* And it’s the first sign for George that someone might have seen something in him that he hasn’t noticed
* But for now that doesn’t matter
* Because you’re here telling jokes like nothing’s changed
* When Ginny gets taken to the chamber you’re sitting with George and Fred in their dorm hugging them close
* You showed up outside their window on your broom, tapping on the glass until they opened it and enveloped you in a hug
* “Maybe it’s just one big mistake, and she’ll pop out any second saying she got lost on her way to the loo”
* “Maybe,” Fred says, but he doesn’t sound like he believes it
* “Everything’s going to be fine,” George says
* And you nod, because you really hope it does
* And by morning Ron and Harry show up covered in dirt with Ginny behind them who looks like she did at first
* With color on her face and vibrancy you haven’t seen on her all year
* “So good old Gildy was a fraud all along huh?”
* “Coulda fooled me”
* And then just like that you’re on the train home
* Joking with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George about Percy’s secret girlfriend
* “It feels like it was just yesterday we were getting off the train and starting the year,” you say slightly wistful
* “Speak for yourself, Oliver Wood nearly killed me at practice with punishment drills for something I said apparently” Fred groans
* “Best to leave the adventuring to the young ones” George grins teasing you as you step onto the platform
* And just like that, it’s over
* And just like that it’ll be a new school year
* And the beginning of a new adventure
#harry potter imagine#harry potter#george wealsey x reader#fred and george weasley imagine#george Weasley imagine#fred weasley x reader#Fred Weasley imagine#harry potter headcanon#harry potter hogwarts mystery#charlie weasley x reader#charlie weasley x jacob's sibling#george weasley#george weasley x reader#harry potter x reader
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FRED WEASLEY
Yule Ball Problems
Requested: yes (by anonymous)
Prompts: none
Warnings: none
Word count: 2.2K
Author’s note: I really like this request especially since the fourth movie is one of my favs, so thank you for requesting it! Just like George's one shot, this will be heavily inspired by the movie (I'm essentially putting the reader into the movie). Before proceeding, I highly recommend rewatching these scenes lol!
Gryffindor practice for the Yule Ball
Fred asks Angelina to the ball (obviously we're pretending it's George who asks her <3)
It was fairly rare to have the Gryffindors sit together in a room mastered by the head teacher. Nevertheless, the entirety of Gordic Gryffindor's current house members has gathered in the spacious room, a million things running through their minds.
McGonagall looked fierce as she appropriated the room like something very serious was going to happen.
Your thoughts seemed to be correct as she whisked her wand in the air, pulling you away from your boyfriend to stand on a completely different side of the room.
You frowned, Fred did too. He was just about to swoop in and kiss you.
"D-did she just?" You asked puzzledly, not quite believing your luck. A couple from seventh year were eating each other's faces in the corner, but she picked you and Fred instead?!
"Yeah," Hermione mused, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I think she did."
Fiercely blushing, you sat back down. "I cannot believe my luck."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. She herself has been appointed to stand with the girls on the other side, leaving her two best friends to themselves and the boys.
"This is the sixth time she has caught us," you told her, catching Minerva's eyes in that exact moment. You wouldn't be surprised if the woman heard you; she is a cat most of the time, and cats have significantly better hearing than humans do.
"The Yule ball has been a tradition of the-" Professor McGonagall attempted although her words were cut by Flinch as he plotted around the huge record player. "-Triwizard Tournament since its inception."
She shared nothing new.
So, what is she on about?
You glanced at your boyfriend, knowing which one out of the two he is immediately. Fred laughed with his twin about Merlin knows what, picking at Ron in the process. You shook your head, focusing your attention back to your head teacher.
"On Christmas Eve night," she continued, slowly walking in a straight line across the floor. "we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity."
Ginny leaned her head against her shoulder, getting bored. You smiled at the act, deciding to share her enthusiasm by mimicking it.
After a while of being stuck in a singular position you had decided to place your chin on the top of her head instead.
"As representatives of the host school I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally because the Yule ball is first and foremost..." The dreaded sentence was coming. You could see it in her facial expression. "A dance."
Ginny's head flew up suddenly, banging against yours so hard you had to hold your jaw in pain. "Oh Y/N, I'm so sorry!" she squeaked, palpably petrified with what she has done to her older brother's girlfriend.
"No, no," you waved your hand, testing your jaw by moving it in circular motions. "It's alright Ginny."
"But what if it gives you a bruise?" She asked frightened. "The ball is just around the corner!"
Your eyes widened at that and before you could soothe the girl, Hermione had butted in. "She'll be fine Ginny. Besides, Fred is so smitten by her he genuinely won't care."
"True," you added in agreement, holding your chin after wrapping your free hand around the smaller girl to cheer her up. Ginny calmed down and returned to her bright, usual self soon after.
The quick accident helped you better ignore the agonizing groans of the boys that generously outmatched the giggling. While most of the girls, including yourself, enjoyed the aspect of dancing with a gentleman, the boys didn't like the thought of becoming one so much.
You searched for Fred's eyes the second you could, finding him already looking at you from afar. He was quick in mouthing an 'Are you okay?' and pointing to his own jaw for better explanation.
You nodded but still mouthed an 'ow' for dramatics sake.
Fred knew his little sister's strength, but he also knew your pain tolerance and that made him less concerned. Fred then sent you a wink accompanied by a wicked grin of excitement. Being a couple played in your favor excellently.
Most of the girls feared being partnerless at the ball, so you felt very content with yourself. You secured yourself both an escort and a dance partner by just loving a boy that was able to be serious if you ever asked him to be.
"Silence!" McGonagall raised both her hands in the air, "The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard word for nearly 10 centuries."
She then continued, "I will not have you in the course of a single evening besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling bumbling band of baboons."
"Babbling what now?" You asked in amazement. She was very creative with her words; you give her that.
From the corner of your eye you saw your boyfriend monkeying around with his brother, staying true to his teasing nature by making fun of McGonagall's words.
"Now. To dance is to let the body..." She took a deep breath as she said that, "...breathe. Inside every girl a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst free and take flight."
Fred's younger brother, Ron, decided to take that inspirational moment to comment about Eloise Midgen, a girl that was sitting very close to you, Hermione and Ginny. You shook your head, not liking his comment at all.
McGonagall heard it but finished her sentence nevertheless, saying something about boys having a lion inside of them. "Mr. Weasley."
Ron looked at her through a fringe of red hair, "Yes..."
"Would you join me, please." She was already by his side as she said that.
"I'd dance with that woman anytime." A girl from your year mumbled, creating quite big hysterics of agreement among the girls. You started to laugh, Ron's face and the girls' comments becoming too much for you to handle.
Ron on the other hand sat awkwardly and glanced around the room in which his housemates were all eagerly waiting for his slip, panicked beyond comprehension. Even Harry who had his arm bandaged due to being an actual contestant in the Tournament, eagerly pushed him up with his healthy one.
McGonagall had Ron in her vise hold. The poor boy couldn't go anywhere without making a complete fool of himself. The music started to play, and Fred and George were loving the sight in front of them as they kept throwing in whistles and remarks that made everyone smile. A years' worth of teasing material had just appeared without them doing so much as moving a finger to make it happen.
On the other side of the room, you weren't breathing. Literal tears formed in your eyes when Ginny made a joke on Ron's account.
"Everybody come together! Boys on your feet!"
You had coughed up your laughter immediately, although the giggles seemed to be a permanent thing. You stood to your feet and dashed across the room for Fred after hearing a fifth year tell her friend how she was going to ask him to partner up.
You leaped into his arms, relieved to have snatched him before anyone else could.
"Woah there, love," Fred mused, placing his hand on your waist like Professor McGonagall had instructed. While teasing his younger brother, Fred managed to pick up the essential parts of the dance because he didn't want to tramp all over your feet and have to carry you to Madam Pomfrey. "Thought I'd leave you hanging?"
Although Fred didn't mind hoisting you up into a princess-carry and acting out a heroic save, he was, quite frankly terrified of the wrath you would unleash on him if he was the reason you wouldn't be able to wear your heels to the ball.
"Actually," your laughter broke down as you two started to dance in steady pace around the room. "I didn't want you to partner up with someone else."
Genuine confusion crossed his features after that, "Come again?"
"I heard several girls talk about how they're going to ask you partner up with them," you mumbled just as the tune changed and he swiftly helped you twirl before pulling you back so you were flush against his chest. "Are you sure they weren't talking about George? He actually-"
"Is your name Fred?" You cut him off.
"Yeah..."
You gave him a look that said well-there-you-go.
"If it makes you feel any better," Fred whispered, voice raspy as he gripped your waist and pulled you against him as if you weren't already glued together before. His mouth slowly found its way to your neck and you shivered under the proximity. "I only have eyes for you."
You didn't get to enjoy the moment as you heard Ron scream, his lust for sibling revenge overtaking. "Professor, Fred and Y/N are snogging! It's kind of disgusting, actually!"
"Mr. Weasley! Miss Y/LN!"
"Not again!" Fred and you said simultaneously.
***
You sat in between Fred and Neville in the great hall, working mostly with Fred on an essay Snape had assigned for you during this study session. You talked quietly with Neville while at it too, sharing deep compassion as you helped answer some questions he had for you about Herbology, keeping professor Sprout out of your mouth as much as possible. You didn't want Snape to find out you were talking about a subject that wasn't his.
Ron's muttering was very much loud as he kept going on about how depressed he was. "Well maybe you should just get yourself a girlfriend then. Like me." Fred whispered proudly, eyeing Snape who was walking around the hall like a soldier.
You mimicked Fred's smirk and turned to Ron, "It's not as easy as it looks."
"Getting a girlfriend, you mean?" Ron said, his face falling into an ever deeper frown when you nodded. "Bloody hell... How is that supposed to help?"
"It isn't," you told him. "Fred's just speaking nonsense. Don't listen to him."
Your boyfriend just grinned, slinging his arm over your shoulder but taking it off as soon as Snape glared at it. You swallowed a bubble of laughter that threatened to slip past your lips.
Out of the blue, George scribbled something on a piece of paper, folding it and throwing it at Ron, apparently not trusting his voice to say whatever he wanted to out loud.
You watched as Ron read it through, turning to your boyfriend, the quill in your hand now long forgotten. "What did George write?"
"Get a move on or all the good ones will have gone." Fred whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple as proof to you that he took no part in that message.
"Good ones..." you muttered mockingly. "Pig."
Fred laughed, stuffing his mouth into the sleeve of his shirt to muffle it. He then turned to his brother and told him what you thought of his message. George leaned behind Fred to scowl at you carefully, so Snape doesn't see.
You both stuck out your tongues to each other like kids at the same time and while you returned straight to work, the younger twin continued to converse with Ron. Eventually George threw a paper ball at Angelina and you watched as the paper ball flew past your eyes, missing you by a millimeter. George had made a good shot as the paper ball bounced off Angelina's body. It urged her to look at George as he acted out the question, "You want to go to the ball with me?"
Angelina nodded, surprising you.
"Seriously?" You asked your close friend.
"What?" She shrugged, "He's cute."
Your raised brow catched Angelina off guard. "And funny..."
"As long as you don't mistake him for Fred," You whispered, "I support it."
Fred chuckled next to you.
"I won't be going alone because believe it or not someone asked me!" Hermione exclaimed, most likely because of Ron. You weren't paying attention to either of them, only starting to do so when Hermione stormed across the hall to Snape and handed him her finished assignment. She turned to grab her things whilst putting Ron in his place. "And I said yes!"
"Please don't tell me Ron asked her to the ball as a last resort," You sighed once Hermione disappeared behind the doors.
"I'm afraid he did, love," Fred answered.
You shook your head at Ron in disappointment, "Fred, did I ever tell you how much I'm grateful for you?"
Fred's smile intensified as he shook his head. "No, I don't think you did."
For that, you listened to your gut and grabbed him by his red Gryffindor tie, pulling him to you until your lips connected. Unfortunately, the kiss lasted for only a second due to Snape crawling around the place like the snake he is, but the brief kiss still left you breathless. Left you wanting more. "Want to get out of here?"
"Mhmm," you said with an eager nod of your head. Your brain was mushed and you only had time to whisper to Neville where he could find the answers about the Bouncing Bulb he's been desperate to find more about before Fred pulled you to your feet and grabbed both your stuff. In return, you collected both Fred and yours assignment and stuffed them into Snape's arms. "Have a lovely day, Professor."
"As I said Ron," Fred said smiling, glancing at you and Snape. "Better go get yourself a girlfriend…before the good ones are taken."
"I think the bloody best one is taken already," Ron mumbled with a pout, every male close to him responding in agreement.
Fred winked at them all, a winning smirk plastered on his face as he grabbed your hand and eagerly pulled you outside to do whatever your hearts desired in that moment.
MASTERLIST
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#fred weasley#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley fanfic#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley fanfiction#weasley twins#weasley twins fanfiction#weasley twins imagine#harry potter imagine#harry potter writing#harry potter#harry potter reader insert#harry potter fanfic#fred weasley x reader
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more harry and neville (+ teddy) headcanons cause I'm way too soft for them
a plus to this post of mine
at 20 years old, when they tell people they're together, they're met with multiple chorus of "what do you mean you're only dating now? we thought you guys had been together for the past two years"
in everyone's defence, they were 100% the kind of friends that are so close you think they're a couple
like, neville would wear harry's jersey during quidditch matches in 8th year. multiple times, ron woke up in the morning and freaked out because harry's and neville's beds were empty, only to run down the stairs and find them passed out on top of each other in the common room sofa after spending all night talking. they were constantly hugging and cuddling and kissing each other's cheeks and foreheads and hands. also, they moved into a cottage in the middle of nowhere together
so I guess it was pretty easy for their friends and families to Assume
harry gives grimmauld place a drastic reform and turns it into an institution where children with abusive households and werewolves with nowhere to go can live and/or transform safely. apart from being a home, the place also works as a mental health clinic and offers a stock of wolfsbane potion, and the inhabitants have free access to both. a big part of harry's and neville's money goes to maintaining this
neville loves dancing and can play the piano. harry can't move his hips to save his life and can only barely play the guitar. they still manage to sway around lazily to songs and sing cheesy duets though
they both have tattoos, both magical and muggle, but harry has a lot more
they almost never call each other by the name, it's always "haz" and "nev". because of that, teddy starts calling them "hazzy" and "nevvy" once he learns to talk and never loses the habit, even as an adult
the two of them and andy make sure teddy knows as much about remus and tonks as he can, and don't intend to replace them, but everyone knows that when he says "my parents" instead of "mom and dad" he's referring to harry and neville
to teddy, andromeda is "grandma" (because it has "ma" in it and she was one of the people who raised him and he does see her as a parental figure), molly is "granny" (because it ends in "y" like her name) and augusta is "gran" (because that's what neville called her). don't judge the reasons, he was 5 at the time he came up with these and they just stuck
teddy gets too agitated to sleep when it's a full moon, so harry and neville take him on midnight trips on the lands around the cottage. by the time he's a teenager and allowed to go alone, teddy puts on headphones and walks those hills, forest and river like second nature
after neville casually proposes while watching a movie in their living room sofa, he runs to their bedroom and comes back with the longbottom family ring. it was tradition for it to be given as an engagement gift, so neville slips it to harry's right hand just as frank did to alice twenty five years before
when they go to st. mungos to tell neville's parents they were getting married, alice gives harry a gum wrapper
when they tell augusta, she smiles, pets harry's cheek and says "welcome to the family". everyone was shocked at the scene and to this day the woman denies it ever happened
minerva walks harry down the isle
they have their names hyphenated as Potter-Longbottom but use only their own as professors
when harry is having a bad day, he lays his head on neville's chest and asks him to read anything aloud just so he can listen to his voice
when neville is having a bad day, he wears one of harry's shirts and rewatches a comfort movie. harry makes him tea, cuddles close on the sofa and watches it with him every time
neville speaks fluent french. sometimes him and teddy will only speak french with each other all day just to annoy harry
harry gave teddy his first piercing, at 13, while ignoring neville freaking out about it over his shoulder
both neville and teddy have adhd. harry develops little routines and strategies to make things easier from them on the daily
the weasleys absolutely adore neville. for real. he's ginny's best friend, harry's husband, gentle, kind, friendly and will ramble about plants at any given opportunity, of course molly takes him under her wing the second he steps into the burrow.
teddy's room in the cottage has always looked kind of the same since they moved in when he was 1, he never made any big changes over the years. the walls are yellow and the ceiling is enchanted like the Great Hall at hogwarts to look like it's always a starry night sky
when harry has a nightmare and can't fall back asleep, neville sings to him until he does
when it's neville who can't fall asleep, harry gives him a warm bath with those calming bath bombs luna is always sending them
when neither of them can fall asleep, they lay outside and watch the stars until the sun comes up
feel free to add any other hcs cause I'll stop here before this gets too long. believe me, I have way more where these came from and I'll die on the pottbottom hill
#neville longbottom#harry potter#neville x harry#harry x neville#pottbottom#harry/neville#neville/harry#harry potter headcanon
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you
♥︎ pairing: ginny weasley x fem!houseneutral!reader
♥︎ summary: ginny distances herself from you because she thinks you love someone else.
♥︎ requested: yes | no
♥︎ warnings: angst, heartbreak, self hate/comparison, total inconsistency since if you're in the trio’s year you wouldn’t have class with ginny + astoria isn’t in ginny’s year but shush its a fic
pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, and all your other favourite treats jumped around in ginny’s bag. the gryffindor girl had gone to help ron woo some mystery girl who he’d taken a liking to and stumbled upon his stash of candies. ginny had called it a fee for her services and decided she’d share her earnings with the girl she loved most, both as a friend and more ─ that girl was you and as far as ginny knew, you were completely oblivious to her feelings.
it was a wednesday afternoon so she could only assume you were having your weekly study session with the gryffindor golden girl herself, hermione granger.
the pep in her step made her red hair bounce on her shoulders, her excitement to see you growing with each one she took. ginny turned the corner, finally at your study spot and she paused. you looked emotional, to put it simply, and you clutched what appeared to be a crumpled piece of parchment that someone had changed their mind about tossing.
there was a nervous gloss to your eyes and ginny thought she should leave, letting you and hermione talk alone. but her curiosity and just the way she cared for you got the best of her.
taking a deep breath and not noticing ginny behind the pillar ─ where she wasn’t so much as hiding, but quietly observing ─ you started to read off of the parchment. “there’s no easy way to say this,” you read clearly, but your shy, quivering smile gave away how you felt about reading what was written. was it a letter? had you written it? “but i love you.”
ginny’s heart stopped. she swallowed thickly, uncertain of how to process the sinking feeling in her chest. you exhaled shakily and smiled, biting your lip and staring down at the words you'd written.
“i love your hair,” you laughed, running your hand over your own nervously. “i love your eyes when you’re happy and the sound of your voice. did you know your nose scrunches when you laugh? it’s adorable. i’ve never met someone who brights up my life like you do. i love how you always know what to say and i love that i can be myself with you. i love your heart, you’re everything i adore. i love when i can look into your eyes because mine fill with the love i’ve only ever felt for you. the only thing more beautiful to me is you. it’s that same look that i’ve never been able to tell if you’ve given me back. my thoughts go cloudy when i’m with you. i love you so much. you’re... you. how could i not have fallen in love with you?"
as she looked at hermione’s angel-like face, ginny felt hot drops of some form of sadness more intense than she even knew possible well up in her eyes. hermione’s lips were parted in awe and she was smiling.
hermione granger, brightest, most beautiful witch of her age. beside you, in ginny’s opinion, but you were right. how could you not have fallen in love with hermione?
you folded up the letter and sighed, no longer reading but still going. “even if you don't love me, it was worth every word. i’ve never regretted anything when it comes to loving you. yours, y/n l/n.”
hermione grinned at you, “that was beautiful, y/n. truly... gods, i didn’t know you had that in you.” ginny fled, not wanting to watch what came next or hear what hermione had to say about how she felt for you. she’d break like the porcelain her skin resembled if hermione said she loved you back... if hermione kissed you, like ginny had only dreamed of.
wiping away the tears that stained her cheeks, she hated herself. y/n loves hermione. she just wished she hadn’t listened. she shouldn’t have fallen for you in the first place or let herself have foolish hope. even more foolish to think she could ever win you over when you could have hermione. older, brighter, and beautiful. she was fool, and now ginny believed had paid the price for it.
but had she stayed only a second longer, she’d have heard hermione’s stunned words. “ginny’s going to love every word, y/n, i know it.” bubbling with nerves, you threw yourself to hug her and squeezed tightly, just as ginny turned to steal one last glance at you. “thank you ‘mione, you’re the best.”
you were inaudible from the distance but there you were in hermione’s arms, giggling and chattering. despite the fact that you were joking about her own crush, ron, the sight only made ginny sick. ginny lost her appetite and made her way to her dorm, instead of the great hall where dinner would be starting in just a few minutes.
the heartbroken girl probably would have thrown up right then and there, had she seen you and hermione walk into the great hall. arm in arm, you were practically shaking with anticipation. of course, she’d incorrectly imagined that you’d be parading in with intertwined fingers and smeared lipstick but through a made up mind, it’d look like all the same.
“where’s gin?” you found a seat next to ron and harry, scanning the table for her red ponytail. through a mouthful of food, ron shrugged and answered, “must have gotten held up.” hermione rolled her eyes with disgust, silently scolding him for his ill manners.
you took the opportunity to tease the two. “never invite me to dinner at your home, save the fighting for your kids.” they both blushed heavily and stammered out how they’d never fancy the other, then immediately spewing out offense at the implication. ron huffed and harry spoke over them, rolling his eyes heavily.
“what about you, y/n? i thought you and ginny would be an item by now,” harry didn't really care either way, but it did seem ridiculous for the two of you to dance around dating for so long, especially since he somewhat saw her as a little sister. and truth be told, everyone was curious about you two.
even ron perked up and hermione smirked knowingly. “leave her alone, it’s none of your business,” she announced.
ron narrowed his eyes and started, “hermione, do you know something?” hurrying to stop them from bickering again, you cleared your throat. “i wrote ginny a letter, laying out exactly how i feel for her. now if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to go find her because i don’t think she’s coming.”
you hopped out of your seat, taking some food for her, and left poor harry alone with the arguing lovebirds to go confess your feelings.
you hummed to yourself, going to knock on ginny’s dorm door. her dorm mate opened the door and looked you up and down, glaring angrily. “what do you want?” she crossed her arms and scoffed. taken aback, you blinked and searched the room for ginny, who was curled up in her bed crying.
“excuse me? get out of my way, i need to see ginny. is she alright?” the girl eyed you, as if scanning you for a lie, and she supposed you were sincere in your concern. “she’ll be fine, just give her some space.”
without another word, the gryffindor slammed the door in front of you and you were left staring at the shut dorm, filled with confusion and a harrowing worry. your hand fell and defeated, you shoved your love letter into your pocket.
you didn’t see ginny the next day in class. or the day after that. she wasn’t talking to any of her brothers, you, or harry and had even turned the other way when you waved her down. it was like she was avoiding you and after a week of it, you came to the conclusion that she must be. ginny’s schedule resided in your mind so you set to confront her after potions. a girl with a mission was a force that should never be reckoned with ─ ginny taught you that.
“it shouldn't be too hard if we get some studying in,” ginny was discussing an upcoming exam with astoria greengrass, a slytherin girl in her year. you rather awkwardly stopped in front of the two and watched them part ways, ginny sending you a scarily pissed off glare. the tension could be cut with a knife and you and ginny blurted at the same time.
“you’re avoiding me!”
“i heard you and hermione!”
anger slipping, ginny avoided your eyes. “well that’s why i’ve been avoiding you. i’m sorry, i know i should be happy for you,” she started to ramble and you stared at her, baffled. happy for you and hermione? “i thought i didn’t care, that i could just push my feelings for you aside. it’s just that when you read that letter to hermione, there was so much... love in your voice. it hurt. i want to be the one you love.”
dumbfounded, you realised that she’d thought the letter was for hermione. “oh fuck, ginny no,” you stumbled, making her step back, assuming you were rejecting her. this wasn’t how you wanted to tell her that you loved her, it was supposed to go better than this. “wait! what i mean is─”
“you made it pretty damn clear what you mean, y/n,” ginny sniffled. “i think it's best if i just─” you cut her off with a kiss. you grabbed her face, kissing her like you’d never tasted something so sweet and you just couldn't get enough. she pulled back, breath heavy on your lips. “but... but hermione,” she whispered and you laughed, eyes fluttering shut and head shaking.
“i was reading it to her to practice on you. it was always for you ginny, it’s always been you.” the smile that you missed all week finally enraptured the lips you’d be kissing as much as you possibly can now that you knew you could. “and besides, she fancies your brother.” ginny thought for a moment and then sighed in embarrassment. but she said nothing as she knew you’d only reassure her and she knew this was how things ought to be.
ginny wrapped her arms around you and melted into your embrace, burying herself in your warmth and tugging you closer ─ though with no distance between you two, the gesture wasn’t very efficient. “so you love me?” she just wanted to hear you say it.
“i love you, ginny.”
“i love you, y/n.”
──────♥︎
#ginny weasley#ginny weasley x reader#ginny weasley imagine#ginny weasley angst#ginny weasley fluff#ginny weasley x y/n#ginny weasley fanfiction#ginny fic#ginny fluff#ginny angst#ginny imagine#ginny x reader#harry potter series#harry potter x reader#hogwarts x reader
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Precautionary Purposes
cedric diggory x reader
summary: you and cedric have been best friends for years; but ever since ginny suggested you dip your toes in the dating world, you find your dates becoming more and more horrible with no explaination.
request: please write a fic about a fem hufflepuff reader who’s best friends with Cedric, they both are in love w each other but can’t work up the courage to confess bc they don’t think it’s mutual and it might ruin their friendship. So maybe Ginny tells her she should start going on dates, so George, Dean and other guys ask her on different dates, and Cedric can’t stand it so he finds ways to sabotage their dates.
warnings: mentions vomit once but besides that none!
You finally sat in the Hufflepuff common room after a long day of classes. Excited to catch up on your favorite book, you took a seat on the yellow velvet couch closest to the fireplace. As soon as you were cozy and began reading, a certain distraction entered the common room. Cedric Diggory. The boy you had basically been head over heels in love with since third year. Cedric was everything you could dream about in a guy; he was tall, devilishly handsome, incredibly kind and loyal. On paper he was nothing short of perfect, but there was an itty-bitty problem. He was your absolute best friend and he had no romantic feelings for you whatsoever. So rather than admitting anything, you saved your friendship the trouble and buried your feelings for him deep, deep down. Although they did have a nasty habit of making their way to the surface every once in a while.
‘Hello, Earth to Y/N.’ Said Cedric and pulled you out of your trance.
‘Oh! Hey, Ced. How’s your day been?’ you questioned into his dreamy eyes.
‘Not bad, the Weasley twins played a great prank in-‘ he started, but you lost him somewhere after the Weasley Twins. You couldn’t help yourself but to get distracted by every sense of his being. This boy was going to be the absolute death of you. You had it bad. Really bad.
The next day you headed over to Ginny at breakfast. You slammed your books onto the Gryffindor table and took a seat beside her. She looked you up and down and smiled.
‘Wow, Y/N. You look terrible.’ Ginny said jokingly, ‘Got a case of the Diggory’s do you?’
‘Very funny, Ginny.’ Sarcasm dripping from your tongue.
‘I just don’t understand what you two are waiting for. I mean, he clearly likes you, and you clearly like him, so I’m not seeing the problem.’ She remarked back.
‘Well,’ you said getting frustrated, ‘what do you suppose I do about it, Gin.’
‘If I were you,’ offered Ginny, ‘I’d probably go on a date or two. You know, distract myself, keep my options open.’
‘Keep my options open…’ you pondered aloud, ‘Thanks, Ginny!’
The day following breakfast was very uneventful. Well, at least before Ginny told her brothers about the conversation you two had at breakfast. The next thing you knew after charms, you had a very attractive younger Weasley Twin approach you in the corridors, asking you to accompany him to Hogsmeade tomorrow. You blushed furiously and nodded your head yes.
(‘Like, um, on a date?’ ‘Yes, Y/N, like a date.’)
When you headed to the common room later that evening you were stopped by a rather stern looking Cedric. ‘Hey, Ced. Are you alright?’ you questioned, raising your brow.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were going on a date with George Weasley?!’ he said.
‘Oh, um, I don’t know. I just didn’t think it was that important. Plus I just assumed you didn’t want to know and-‘
‘What makes you think I didn’t want to know?’ Cedric asked deadpanned. But before you could think of an answer he brushed off, ‘You know what, never mind. I’m sorry I said anything. You two will have a great time. Good night, Y/N.’ And with that he was off, leaving you stood absolutely bewildered in the Hufflepuff common room, wondering why Cedric was so concerned about a silly little date.
The very next day next day you were sitting across from George Weasley in The Three Broomsticks. You had to admit, the afternoon was going so smoothly. George was a wonderful date: he was sweet, funny and kind; but there was one problem, he wasn’t Cedric. And although as much as you wished the cute ginger in front of you could distract you, it was of no use.
However, a loud crash pulled you out of your thoughts; and before you had any time to react, you and George were covered in sticky butterbeer. Madame Rosmerta apologized profusely, ‘Oh my goodness, it's like I tripped on thin air. I’m sorry, my darlings!’
Suddenly you saw a hand reach out and give you a towel, ‘You alright there, Y//N?’ Cedric said revealing himself, ‘We were sitting over there and watched the whole thing happen. Rotten luck, Weasley.’
‘No problem, Diggory. Me and Y/N were just finishing up anyways.’ He smiled sweetly at you and glared at Cedric, ’Why don’t we head back to the castle and get you cleaned up?’
And with that you and George Weasley headed back up to Hogwarts. After much chatter, you both agreed you had a wonderful time but enjoyed each other’s company better as friends. You definitely weren’t upset at the notion, especially considering the very next day Dean Thomas asked you out. Shocked but slightly satisfied, you agreed to take a walk with him by the black lake. You two were really enjoying your time together; Dean was respectful and genuine, which made your heart slightly a flutter. Not the way Cedric did of course, but enough to distract you from the Diggory’s, as Ginny liked to call it.
Things were going well, and Dean reached out for your hand. However, as soon as he grabbed a hold of your fingertips, dung bombs erupted from his robes filling your nose with the foulest smell.
‘I’m so sorry, Y/N! I have no idea how those got there!’ said Dean, rushing back towards the castle. Leaving you with the second failed date of the week.
‘What’s the matter, Y/N?’ Cedric greeted you at dinner, ‘Dean Thomas didn’t stand you up did he?’
‘Nope, even worse.’ You chuckled, ‘Dung bombs went off in his robes. You know, I’d forgotten how bloody horrible those smelt.’
Your eyes met his and both of you bust out into hysterical laughter. With tears of joy, and tummies pain stricken from the laughs; you forgot, just for a moment, how easy it was to get lost in him.
Over the next few weeks, Lee Jordan, Ernie MacMillan and Zacharias Smith had all asked you out, each one ending more disastrous than the next. You became quickly frustrated at the pattern emerging. Someone would as you out, something would go horribly wrong and Cedric (out of all people) would be there to comfort you. It was like the whole world was out to get you, and you have had enough.
You huffed your way in the common room one evening, and plopped your way onto the couch. You felt a soft hand on your shoulder. Cedric, you sighed to yourself as he took the seat next to you.
‘Rough day?’ you nodded at him, ‘Want to talk about it?’
You exhaled softly, ‘I don’t even know anymore, Ced. I just feel like the entire world is against me when it comes to the love department. First George and the butterbeer, then Ernie and the swamp in his four poster, then Lee and the rouge bludger, then Zacharias throwing up! And do I even have to mention Dean?! It’s like everything I’m doing is wrong, Cedric. And I can’t help but to feel like it’s all my fault’ You said in all of your frustration.
‘Y/N, darling. Don’t say that, you deserve the absolute world and you know that. Besides, how could it be your fault the Zacharias ate those acid pops-‘ he stopped mid-sentence, catching himself. Your heart dropped and you turned your head slowly.
‘Cedric, I didn’t mention anything about acid pops.’ You stated bewildered. Cedric stared at the floor, unable to meet his eyes with yours.
‘How did you know that acid pops made Zacharias sick?’ you questioned him again, but suddenly the pieces clicked together. ‘Cedric, Madam Rosmerta didn’t trip on her own that day at The Three Broomsticks. And the dung bombs weren’t put in Dean’s robes on accident, were they? Oh my God! Cedric Diggory, have you been the one sabotaging my dates!?’
There was so much going through your mind. Why on Earth would Cedric do such a thing, you questioned to yourself. You looked up at his face searching for answers, looking for anything.
‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t even fathom the idea of you being with someone else because-‘ he hesitated, ‘because I love you.’
You stared at him, in shock; because the boy you have been head over heels for has just told you that he loved you. You had absolutely nothing to say, so instead of saying anything at all you crashed your lips onto his. Cedric melted into you, wrapping is hands onto your waist. You pulled away from him.
‘You know, Cedric, If you would have asked me I would have said yes.’ You smiled at him.
‘This was just for precautionary purposes, you know?’ Cedric laughed.
‘Precautionary purposes?’ you giggled back, ‘Of course, of course.’
He then pulled you into a soft kiss, and with that your case of the Diggory’s was cured.
(‘You should probably apologize to those poor boys.’ ‘Yeah I probably should’)
Author’s note: oh my goodness! i had such a wonderful time writting this! i hope you enjoy it! thank you nonnie for the request! <3
#Harry Potter#harry potter fanfiction#cedric diggory#cedric diggory x reader#cedric diggory x you#george weasley#ginny weasley#hufflepuff#hufflepuff reader
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Okay.... hear me out. T4T post-war Snarry where substance use starts them on the path to cracking their eggs and meeting as new people who are ready to give each other a second chance. A sickeningly self-indulgent fic idea, pure rambling. Target audience: me and me alone.
Transfemme Snape is on probation after the Death Eater trials and is stripped of her magic. It's temporary and much better than Azkaban but it also means that Snape is essentially a Squib for three years following the sentence. One of the things that happens as a result of this is that all of the subtle "notice-me-not" charms on the area around Spinner's End wear off and the local authorities finally decide it's time to get rid of that slum. Snape is forced to move, which is probably for the best, all things considered. Living with your abusive parents' ghosts isn't conducive to healing... and there's a lot that Snape needs to heal from. As things stand Snape really doesn't want to have anything to do with the wizarding world so she moves to a muggle town somewhere on the coast. What with not being able to do magic she also turns to muggle solutions for a lot of her problems. She makes a living tending bar (she's basically nocturnal, doesn't drink, and can quell unruly customers with a look, so it's a good fit). She starts taking medical marijuana for the chronic pain caused by her encounter with Nagini and it stops her from feeling mildly suicidal for the first time in ages. It's nothing like her life was before and so she slowly starts shedding some of the fear and pain that kept her in line and an effective tool... basically her whole life.
Trans guy Harry goes a bit wild after the whole "I died to save the wizarding world" thing. He feels like he's been robbed of his childhood, his adolescence, and basically all the experiences that "normal kids" should have, so he lets go of his remaining impulse control and starts to spiral. The summer of 1998 is rough. There's the funerals, the trials, everybody trying to pick up the pieces of their life. Harry doesn't think he has any pieces of himself left to pick up. He didn't really plan for a future after the war... he could never see himself grown up. Harry breaks up with Ginny because the way they are together makes his skin crawl, even if he can't put a finger on why that is. Ron gets really mad at Harry for dumping his sister and even more so when Harry says that he doesn't want to be an Auror anymore. He briefly goes back for his 8th year with Hermione but drops out in November when he only manages to turn in two assignments and spends most of his time finding ways to sneak off the grounds to get drunk in London clubs. Harry's friends worry about him but there's only so much they can do to help somebody who really doesn't want to be helped. Harry moves into Grimmauld Place, cuts his hair really short, and spends his nights "living" which mostly just means doing party drugs and having a few ill-advised one-night stands. When there is no one to party with, Harry gets drunk alone in Grimmauld Place and punches mirrors. He doesn’t see a future for himself so he decides to just live in the present, however long that's going to last him. He can feel a break coming, something terrifying but necessary. It feels like the only way to forward is to spiral down.
Snape, who has known something was off since she was a kid, finally lets herself accept what that thing is. It isn’t an earth-shattering revelation, just part of slipping off the masks of professor and spy and Death Eater until all that's left underneath is her. How the fuck did she fool everybody into thinking that she was a man for all these years? Maybe that’s why she was such a good spy. Started young. Hid it even from herself. It’s not really an easy thing to accept, but inevitable. Snape is already grieving everything else about her life so what's another lie, another chance at happiness that slipped away before she even knew what it was? She spends a lot of time in her shabby little flat getting stoned but she also walks along the beach and starts planning the rest of her life.
Harry cracks on another of his drunken nights out to some rather unpleasant consequences, including ministry officials having to obliviate dozens of muggles in a Camden club and a hangover so bad even potions don't help with it. Most of it gets hushed up but the yellow press takes the opportunity to start saying how the "Girl-Who-Lived" finally went off the rails, complete with an unflattering picture of Harry's new haircut (granted Harry was about to throw up when the picture was taken...). Harry lays low for a while but he is also a man of action and so he begins to research ways he could transition. St. Mungo's doesn't provide that kind of healthcare so if he wants to go the magical route he would have to figure it out himself or find an expert in gender magic... who doesn't seem to exist. There are references to a witch who brewed a potion to change her gender, but she lived in the 18th century. Being trans is stigmatized in the wizarding world so he assumes that wixen who have transitioned probably don't advertise the fact. Harry doesn't trust himself to do any magic or potion work that advanced without killing himself, so he decides to keep searching. He swears Madam Pomfrey to secrecy and asks her if she can help him. She's taken aback and tells him this kind of magic is not well studied and she doesn't know if there's a potioneer alive, other than Severus Snape maybe, who would even try working on something like that. However, even if Snape wasn't a squib and unable to brew anymore, Harry certainly isn't planning to have anything to do with his old potions professor. He decides that maybe he should just try muggle means.
Meanwhile Snape has been doing theoretical research on magical transition but hits a dead end. She needs access to a magical library, she needs to be able to actually experiment... Not to mention that she still has years of her probation left, which means years before she can even attempt transition. The only thing to do is turn to muggle means to both manage her dysphoria and maybe inspire the next stage of her research. It takes a while to secure an appointment, but one fateful day Snape walks into the reception area of a London clinic... right as Harry Potter is exiting the doctor's office after his check-in for being 3 months on T. To say that there is a moment of shocked silence would be an understatement.
They meet up for coffee and cautiously become a two-person support group for trans wixen who got fucked over by fate (and Dumbledore) and miraculously survived a war. Harry lets Snape use the library at Grimmauld Place and Snape promises to expand her research to try and develop something for him too. Harry apprentices to a curse-breaker and weathers the press dragging him through the mud every chance they get. Snape might have mellowed out a bit but she still gets on Harry's case about the drinking and not finishing school. They bicker a lot and sometimes Harry overcompensates on the machismo and acts like James, or Snape feeling a blinding rage that Harry is so fucking young and has his whole life ahead of him... but they end up coming around to each other every time. On some level, they are the only people in the world who can really understand each other.
Over the course of the next year and a half, they slowly get their lives sorted. And through that process, they become the most important people in each others' lives. What started out as reluctant solidarity grows until one day Harry can't imagine a future that doesn't have Snape in it, and Snape starts thinking of "home" as being wherever Harry is. It's not easy, considering how many issues both of them have, but it's the easiest thing in the world compared to the alternative. Cue resolution of them both magically transitioning, dealing with public perceptions, and leaning into being a scandalous power couple who doesn't take shit from anybody.
Now, if only I could write this as an actual story....
#the target audience for this is me#i feel like if i ever write a fanfic this would be it#except i can't make myself write#and if i ever do i will probably turn this into an original story#but here#i can think of maybe two people who will be into this#severus snape#serverus x harry#snarry#trans snape#trans harry potter#substance use cw#alcohol cw#self-harm cw#weed cw#idk#ask to tag
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Ok so I decided to finally post the promised: defending Romione (🥺💗💕💖💞💘) against Dr*mione (ಠಿ_ಠ) shippers.
So I've read a few posts about Dr*mione shippers, talking about why their ship is amazing (which had nothing to do with canon btw) and bashing Ron (for no reason) and I'm literally shaking out of anger.
Here are my thoughts:
1. "Ron is too dumb for hermione"
Stop- Just-
Stop.
RON IS NOT DUMB.
Yes, he might not be very interested in school subjects, but 👏 that 👏 doesn't 👏 mean 👏 he 👏 is 👏 dumb 👏.
He is actually very smart! He beat McGonagall's chess game, he is logical and quick-thinking. There's MANY examples of this that I won't name right now, but it's a canonical fact. Ron. Is. Not. Dumb.
And consider he was dumb. So? Would that stop Romione from happening? NO! Hermione didn't mind Ron not being smart. She was just upset that Ron was lazy and wouldn't study anything until the last minute. She wanted to get both Harry and Ron to study according to a schedule.
Is it clear? Intelligence doesn't determine love.
**And this is something that confuses me. This doesn't have anything to do with the point, but why does nobody realize that Harry isn't much smarter than Ron? Yes, he was better at DADA but that requires TALENT, not intelligence. And I'm pretty sure we all know that Ron is talented as well (hopefully everyone realizes that). Nobody uses the fact that Harry wasn't intelligent against Harmione, but everyone uses the fact that Ron wasn't intelligent against Romione. The double standards tear apart the fandom.
2. "Ron bought hermione perfume and Draco could get her something better."
Soooo, you're saying that just because Ron didn't have the money that Draco had means that Hermione didn't deserve Ron?
Wow, this just says a lot about you dr*mione shippers. You only care about the money that Draco has, not his personality. You don't like Ron because he's poor (and I know how FanFics give the "kind Draco" Ron's canon personality so the only "problem" with Ron is his looks and lack of money). And you don't see Hermione nor Ron the way they are. This "point" of yours is literally stating that Hermione should be a gold-digger and get Draco because he can get her the expensive presents that she deserves. Yikes.
3. "Draco can understand the emotional side of Hermione while Ron can't."
Wait
What?
WHERE DO YOU GET THIS IDEA FROM-
Draco is only EVER concerned about his own self, he is a NARCISSIST. He would NEVER care for someone (let alone Hermione) as purely and truly as he cared about himself. He didn't even care about Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson etc. He was selfish. The only reason he could express his emotions was because he had to go through a lot since he realized that killing Dumbledore wasn't as easy as bullying Hermione. This would never ever work.
And even if Ron didn't understand her as much, he STILL comforted her. Take the beginning chapters of The Deathly Hallows as an example. You'll see.
4. "Ron is too immature."
I need help.
Of course Ron was immature when he was 11!! Yes, he acted immaturely many times, yes, he made many mistakes, but guess what? He changed! He changed for Hermione!! Draco didn't change at all, not for Hermione, nor for anyone else. He remained the same bratty bully.
If you could reread the books and read prisoner of azkaban vs deathly hallows, you will definitely see how much Ron has matured. He doesn't argue with Hermione anymore, he comforts her, he's there for her. Yes, he made a mistake but he was manipulated by the horcrux! We don't blame Ginny for what tom riddle's diary made her do, do we? So stop blaming Ron!
Anyways, I think if dr*mione shippers have read the books, they'll know what I'm talking about when I say Ron changed for Hermione. I honestly don't know how you could miss Ron's character arc.
5. "Ron would be jealous of the brilliant Hermione."
What?
If I remember correctly, the reason Draco bullied the trio was because he was jealous of them. His jealousy turned into a 7 year torture for the trio and now you're saying that Ron is the jealous one? Please.
But anyways, Ron has been jealous of Harry and has made a few mistakes. But there are reasons behind them and I can defend him for each of these with arguments other than "everyone makes mistakes" (cough cough* Draco stans* cough cough).
First of all, Ron has admitted being jealous of Harry's fame because he lives with 5 older brothers who outshine him. But that's not really a mistake because he never let it get in his way. There were only 2 situations in 7 years when he left Harry out of jealousy but I think these have different explainations.
No1 Ron left in goblet of fire. I think the real reason that Ron let his jealousy get in his way this time, was not only because Harry got to participate in the tournament which could bring him eternal glory, but more likely because he was disappointed that his own best friend didn't even tell him that he was entering and didn't even help him participate (which wasn't true, but Ron thought so back then).
No2 Ron left in deathly hallows. This one was 100% because of the horcrux and I think we should all accept this by now and stop hating on Ron for being affected by dark magic.
And just like that, Ron never let his jealousy get in his way of friendships. I can't think of a situation where Ron is jealous of the brilliant Hermione so if you remember, please let me know so I can argue against it. <3
6. "Ron and Hermione would break up and remain friends, it's easy to imagine because they didn't have a strong relationship."
This was actually said, someone actually said this-
I'm just going to say that Ron and Hermione are happily married to this day (which definitely proves that their relationship is strong) and give the dr*mione community a moment of silence.
7. "Ron didn't do anything for Hermione and was just a jerk."
Coming from a person who has read and reread the books multiple times, I can assure you that Ron did many things for Hermione.
Of course, he was immature at first, he was mean to her, but slowly he started seeing more of the good in Hermione and started changing for her.
And even when he was immature, he still cared about Hermione and would protect her no matter what.
Let's remember how many times rubbish Ron stood up for Hermione against the brilliant bully Draco. 🥰
Let's remember how cowardly Ronald faced his fears of spiders to help Hermione (and the rest of the school, just how jerkier can he get?). 🥰
Let's remember how ridiculous Ronniekins stood up for Hermione against sensational Snape and got himself into detention (oh yes, this is the book version of the movie moment where Ron agrees with Snape about Hermione being an 'insufferable know-it-all'). 🥰
Let's remember how rotten Ronny comforted Hermione when she was worried about Hagrid and Buckbeak (and he even let her hug him and cry on his shoulder, how rude). 🥰
Let's remember how revolting Ronald sacrificed himself to save Harry and Hermione in the chess game. 🥰
Let's remember how horrendous Ron attempted to hex Draco when he used a slur that was meant to offend Hermione. 🥰
Keep in mind that all of these were done when Ron was still immature and still argued a lot with Hermione.
And these aren't even all.
8. "Ron and Hermione have a loveless marriage."
What the-
I'm sorry, I'm trying to be respectful here but this is crap. And the fact that the person said they also had "proof" from the c*rsed ch*ld but didn't want to spoil it-
As much as I hate the c*rsed ch*ld, I can tell you that it did its job portraying Ron and Hermione's unconditional love. Even in alternative realities, where they didn't get married, they were still in love.
And why would you even think that Ron and Hermione would marry and have kids if they didn't love each other? I need explainations.
Next.
9. "Ron never listens to Hermione."
I'm sorry, what? I'm genuinely confused??
What do you even mean by this? Yeah, they used to argue a lot, and? Ron thinks Hermione is brilliant and wonderful and he follows her advice. I can't recall a moment where Ron won't listen to Hermione, doesn't agree with her and ruins her plans. Anyone else?
Since this one is a big mess and a confusion, I'll move on to the next one until someone explains the points and arguments.
10. "Draco could make Hermione laugh while Ron couldn't."
....
Do I really need to say anything for this one?
Ron was the funniest one from the trio, that's why Harry enjoyed his company so much! Don't you remember the line in goblet of fire where Harry thinks about how much he misses having Ron as his best friend, because without him there's less fun and less laughs? I do.
But what I don't remember is finding Draco's sense of humor funny. I'm sorry but his intellectual level is almost as low as Crabbe and Goyle's. His insults are none other than Potty and Weaselbee, he only got 3 O.W.L.s and all of his jokes were stupid and dumb and their only purpose was insulting people he was jealous of.
These fanfics have rotten people's brains...😬
Anyways, I'm going to stop here. I've delayed this post for very long and I'm so excited to finally post it!
I read a book on wattpad by a dr*mione shipper and it was nothing but a giant headache. That's where I got all of these statements from. Most of the garbage in the book revolved around Draco and Hermione being inseparable and getting over all obstacles (wth) and other stupid stuff like that which really annoyed me. The book was called "why we love dr*mione" and it was by Bittenwizard. You can read and enjoy! Trust me, you'll have lots of content to post about after that 🤠👍
*I always try to be respectful to all ships, but sometimes some of them really anger me because the ships are either toxic or the arguments are plain trash. I'm sorry if I offend anyone.
Thank you for reading this. If you're a dr*mione shipper, I hope I've convinced you to give up the ship or come up with better arguments for it.
If you're an anti-dramione I hope you enjoyed the post. I'll delight you with more anti-toxic-ships content. :)
Thank you once again! <3
#ron weasley defense squad#ron weasley#ronald weasley#romione#ron and hermione#hermione and ron#hate dramione#anti dramione#dramione#draco and hermione#hermione and draco#hermione x draco#draco x hermione#ron x hermione#hermione x ron#anti draco malfoy#draco malfoy#hermione granger#anti draco x hermione#anti draco stans
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"straight as a ruler"
Hey yall, here’s the long-awaited deamus fic that we’ve all been waiting for! If you want to follow my tumblr, it’s on my instagram profile now :). And if anyone from tumblr wants to follow my instagram, my handle’s @em.jade_dragon on there! Do like, share, save, reblog etc my posts, it really helps! More interaction (i.e interaction with my stories, commenting) would be very much appreciated :D. Anyways, without further ado, let’s get into things!
This is an eighth-year AU. TW/CW: food, alcohol, parties. stay safe everyone!
After the war, Professor McGonagall (now headmistress) invited all of the previous seventh-years back to Hogwarts to give them the chance to learn all of what they missed out on, as well as complete their NEWTs if they wished to do so. Most of the students did end up returning, even though a lot of them already had jobs (or offers that they had accepted).
The “eighth-years” were given their very own common room, and Dean was very glad for this.
It had been a relatively easy Saturday, and now, it was around 6pm, and the sun had just set. And because it was a Saturday, everyone was prepared for the event they all looked forward to - the weekly eight-year party.
When Dean finally arrived on scene, albeit slightly late due to some solo quidditch practise (they didn't have any teams, but the eighth-years often had fun matches that were inter-house) to take his mind off something that had been bugging him for a while: Seamus. he couldn't quite put a finger on why he was having that nagging, butterfly-feeling in his stomach whenever he thought of his late best friend, but he kept on ignoring it hoping it'd go a way. He had the slightest suspicion what it might've been - after all, Dean was pretty sure he was pansexual, so it wasn't completely unexpected. But he'd intentionally tried to forget about it. He had, for a little, whilst he was outside, but now, as he entered the common room, he grew queasy again knowing his best friend would be looking for him.
As soon as he stepped foot inside, he noticed that a lot of people were already half-wasted. He must've been later than he thought.
"Dean-y, there you are!" He turned to see Ginny Weasley bounding towards him cheerfully, her eyes a little glassy. Other than that, she appeared to be pretty sober.
"Gin, hey," Dean replied, giving her a light hug. They'd dated for a short while previously, but had broken it off after they both realised they were better of as friends. He was glad for that - they'd never have worked out, not when Ginny was practically in love with another classmate of theirs (spoiler alert - it wasn't Harry). He knew she, Neville and Luna had snuck into the party again. Not that anybody minded.
Ginny laughed loudly, and ran a hand through her cropped shoulder-length hair. She'd reportedly gotten Neville to cut it for her. "Needed a change", Dean remembered her telling him a month back. It suited her.
"Dean, helloOo?" Ginny waved her hand in his face, and Dean blinked. "Come on, let's go say hi to everyone else!" she said, and promptly dragged him to the end corner of the room. There, on the couch, sat the golden trio, squished in with the bronze trio group. Neville and Luna were there too - Neville and Blaise were engaged in a flirty conversation on the floor, and Luna smiling fondly at them. She turned when Dean and Ginny approached.
"Oh, hello, Dean. How was quidditch practise?" she asked sweetly. He told her it was fine and she nodded. "Got a case of wrack spurts around you. Seamus, too."
Dean wondered what it meant. He was about to ask but before he could Ginny had strolled up to her girlfriend and had begun kissing Luna rather passionately. Sighing, he sat down near Blaise.
Hermione and Ron were cackling loudly with Pansy, who was telling a story involving Draco and the giant squid. Draco was silently sulking, leaning against Harry who was playing mindlessly with his partner's hair.
"Dean, mate, you made it!" Harry said, nodding at him.
He smiled slightly. "Yeah. What'd I miss?"
"Well, Dray here's been traumatised by Pansy and Ron and 'Mione-"
"-They were not!-" Pansy cut in, now listening to the conversation as Hermione and Ron started discussing something about Percy Weasley and his new relationship with Oliver Wood.
Dean and Harry laughed. Malfoy scowled, but their eyes were light.
"-Anyways, Ron and 'Mione and I had a fun time teasing Blaise and Nev, and at some point we were all dancing to ABBA music but we settled down again." Harry continued.
Ron nodded. He made a terrible impression of Parvati and Lavender, who had been singing along, before he stopped and seemed to remember something. "Oh yeah, and Seamus came looking for you. Not sure where he's gone now, but Luna said something about some girl rejecting him and now he's probably sulking-"
Luna, by this point, had tuned into the conversation, with Ginny now sitting in her lap and gazing lovingly at her.
"I never said she was a she, Ron. But yes, he had quite a lot of fuzz around his head."
"You should go check on him, mate, he's your bestie!" Ginny suddenly exclaimed, her voice slurring. Dean nodded and got up, exiting the scene.
***
Despite having left his circle of friends rather swiftly, Dean had been interrupted several times for small chats and drinks with people in the room before he could even start searching for Seamus. He'd heard the latest gossip from Padma Patil and Wayne Hopkins, been given a bottle of fire whisky from Theo Nott, and had discussed the uses of owl feathers with owl enthusiast Michael Corner. At this point he'd gotten rather tired and was a tad bit intoxicated.
He ended exiting the common room and heading down into a more quiet hallway to try and sober up, when he'd heard quiet sniffling in the corner. Curious, Dean cautiously approached the noise to find Seamus sitting hunched against the wall, a bottle cradled in his palms.
When Dean approached him, Seamus looked up and wiped the tears from his eyes rather swiftly.
"Guess you finally decided to turn up whilst your best mate got his heart broken, huh?" he said bitterly, his Irish accent coming out thicker than it usually did. Dean's heart melted a little, and he felt incredibly guilty.
"Seamus, I'm so sorry I was clearing my head out a bit at the quidditch pitch and lost track of time, I feel awful I-" Seamus put a hand up, telling him to stop. He stood up and put the bottle on the floor. Dean couldn't help but notice how soft Seamus' hair looked tonight, and how toned his muscles were through the thin school shirt.
Seamus, unfortunately, noticed Dean's staring. "What're you staring at for?"
"I- nothing", Dean said quickly, awkwardly scratching his neck, looking away at the wall for a second. He'd forgotten how incredibly fit the Irish boy was, even though he was both taller and more muscular than Seamus.
They stood in silence a bit, before Seamus spoke up. "I asked someone out today. Thought I'd give m'self a shot, y'know? But they said no. It wasn't a girl who- who rejected me. It-" he breathed out shakily, and Dean realised how incredibly shattered he was, and put a hand on Seamus' arm without thinking about it too much. "-It was a guy. Stephen something from Ravenclaw."
Dean didn't know what to say. He had wondered if his best friend had been 'bent', but never really thought about it too deeply. Inwardly he felt his guts churn and he suddenly felt strangely content, but he wasn't sure why "I- I'm so sorry mate, that's awful," he began, and trying to lighten the atmosphere, continued, "Maybe Steph wasn't into white guys?"
His best mate laughed, and it was a broken, hollow sound. "Thanks Dean-o, really makes meh feel better. Perhaps he's into you, eh?"
"I- well I'm not into him-" he began, but Seamus cut him off.
"Bloody no shit, you're straight as a ruler!"
"But I'm not. Straight as a ruler, you say. I'm- I think I'm pan, Shay."
"I- what?" Somehow, without Dean realising, Seamus had brought his hands onto his chest. And now all he could feel was his calloused palms digging slightly onto his chest, over his erratically beating heart. "I thought I was the gay bloke out of the two of us! Like, I dunno, at least the only fruity one."
"I guess you thought wrong." Dean said awkwardly.
"I guess I did."
They stood there for another minute, staring at each other.
And suddenly Dean remembered that he was still holding onto Seamus rather tightly, so he made to let go, when he felt hands sliding down to his waist and gripping him.
Astonished, he glanced up from staring at the floor and looked into his best mate's deep brown eyes. He reached his other hand out unconsciously, cupping his chin.
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Shay said, the lilt in his tongue sounding for some reason really hot.
Next thing Dean knew, Seamus had crashed his lips onto him, pushing him into the opposite wall of the narrow corridor.
He didn't respond at first. Seamus stopped for a second, pulling back. "Kiss me back, you dolt, or I swear to merlin I'll be punching that fucking sexy face of yours-"
Next thing Seamus knew, Dean was snogging him back.
~fin
#deamus#seamus finnegan#dean thomas#dean x seamus#harry potter#hermione granger#ronald weasley#pansy parkinson#draco and harry#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#neville longbottom#luna lovegood#ginny weasley#linny#bleville#eight year AU#hogwarts#fanfic#fluff#angst#oblivious pining#lgbt#gay#oneshot
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