#fred weasley angst

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn��t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[weasleys-wizard-writes]

Latency Lingering {F.W}

Chapter I - Same Eyes, Twice Over

Synopsis: just over three years after making the decision to end things with Fred to keep yourself and your new secret(s) from holding him back, you're finally faced with the consequences when you run into Molly and she sees those very same "secrets" for herself. Suddenly, it seems very unlikely that a life without Fred Weasley in it will remain possible for you.

All the time in the world could not have properly prepared you for this moment.

You weren't entirely convinced, after all, that anyone was supposed to endure the agony of facing a disappointed Molly Weasley head on.

But then, here you were, dual stroller handlebar clenched so tightly in your hands that you feared you might just warp it, doing exactly that.

Had the four years of peace been worth it, you wondered, in exchange for the inevitable chaos that was soon to descend upon you like a long prophesied swarm of locusts set free of the hell from whence they'd come?

Likely not.

But what else could you have done?

You had only been eighteen measly years old, after all, a babe in the grand scheme of things, suddenly thrust into reality as a dull blade might be through flesh and bone.

(Messily, and with a staggering amount of force).

Though, you certainly felt rather unlike the blade in that analogy, and far more so like the flesh...

Nevertheless, you'd persisted. Done what you'd had to in order to preserve your sanity and the livelihood of the man you'd loved.

Perhaps still did, not that it mattered.

Fred was long gone, you had made sure of it that night in the astronomy tower the evening before he and his brother, your once closest friend, had made their daring escape from the hell that had been Hogwarts at that time.

You'd shattered the poor boy's heart after three and a half years of love and adoration, all to preserve his dreams.

Shame you'd done all you could to ensure he'd never know it.

"Please love, I don't understand."

He'd plead, dexterous fingers running through mussed up ginger locks as he paced back and forth about the room you were both stood in.

You'd only just barely resisted the urge to say it was all a joke then, desperate to reach out and feel him one more time, to fix the hairs that had sprung up all about his head as a result of his restless ministrations.

But you hadn't. You couldn't.

Things would be better, you knew, if you just stayed away.

You'd retreated further out of his grasp to keep yourself from holding him not long after the urge had arose. The look in his eyes, pained and confused, was enough to tear your heart in two, though you supposed that it was thirds if you really thought about it.

You would miss George, after all. What was a girl to do without her best friend, especially in times such as these?

"I'm sorry, Fred."

You said resolutely, not feeling nearly as certain as you'd sounded in that moment.

"I just- I can't deal with the distance, nor the strain of it all. There's far too much for me to worry about here, I can't risk stretching myself too thin worrying to death over you and your brother."

That much was true, you supposed, though in the end he'd never really know the half of it. That you couldn't risk stretching yourself too thin because of just how much was about to change, and because it would mean harming another to do so.

You had far more than just yourself to think about now.

In response to your words, your boyfriend stared at you as if you'd grown a second head, beautiful brown eyes wide and teary as he pulled a shaking, uncertain breath in through his parted lips.

"This can't be happening."

He'd whispered, a humorless laugh leaving his mouth and echoing throughout the mostly empty space, nearly making you shudder.

"Merlin Y/n, just last night you were cracking jokes about me taking your surname instead of the other way around. We spoke of a home, domestic dinner parties, Godric, even names for our bloody children!"

He'd exclaimed, hands flying up into their air as you'd watched on sorrowfully, recalling the very conversations he was speaking of.

You'd certainly take his thoughts from them into consideration when you-

"Lords woman, you're wearing a promise ring! This isn't some summer fling you can just toss aside with no warning, we've a whole future planned together!"

He sounded near hysterical now, confusion melding with panic to rob him of reason even in the darkened halls of the astronomy tower, and you'd shuddered to think of what Umbridge would do if she found out the two of you were up there at such an hour.

It was hardly negligible to risk yourself harm anymore, you simply couldn't resolve to allow things to continue any further.

And so, you hadn't.

"Fred, I'm sorry."

You began, lower lip wobbling in a way you hoped he couldn't make out despite the feigned certainty present in your tone.

"But I've made up my mind. We're destined to take life on two very different paths, you and I, and I can't let myself pretend this makes sense for even another moment. I love you far too much to allow this to persist and risk hurting you further."

And with that, you were gone, leaving the love of your life behind to wonder what on earth had gone wrong.

You hadn't seen Fred since then, at least not as far as you were aware, avoiding every event he could possibly turn up at within reason...

Though, avoiding his family, that had proven to be a far more difficult task, particularly whilst you'd been attending Hogwarts with them after the twins had taken their leave, your relationship all but flown away with them.

It turned out though, that pregnancy was easy enough to hide as long as no one looked too close at your poorly maintained glamour charm.

Or, at least it had been for the first few weeks or so...

But then, much to your utter horror (and great surprise) you'd been informed that your darling ex boyfriend had been so kind as to leave you with not just one child to care for in his absence, but two.

It would seem that twins did indeed run in the family.

After that discovery, your glamour charms had taken a lot more effort, focus, and intention.

Graduation, you'd found, could not come soon enough.

And though you had "celebrated" alone, your notably small family wanting little to do with their soon to be teen parent of a daughter, it had felt like your first real victory since your decision to leave Fred had left a gaping hole in the center of your heart.

Perhaps it was possible to keep moving forward after all, if you could make it through several months of schooling at Hogwarts whilst pregnant with twins you would undoubtedly be raising on your own...

Though, truly, not even that could have prepared you for a moment such as this one, because far more than you had ever seen before, Molly Weasley was furious.

She was doing a good enough job of hiding it, but you'd long since learned the meaning of her flaring nostrils, darting gaze, and shifting fingertips, which busied themselves with her wand as casually as she could manage.

You reckoned you were rather lucky she hadn't hexed you yet, judging by how upset she looked.

And, reasonably, you supposed she had every right to be.

After all, it had only been three short years since you had broken her son's heart high up in the astronomy tower at that school you had once so happily called home, yet now you were standing in the same doctor's office waiting room together, one of you with a bruised ankle, and the other with a baby carriage in hand.

And as much as you wished it to be so, it seemed the universe had no intention of switching your positions. It was you with the stroller, and she with the injury, though you were certain you'd be obtaining one soon if the older woman standing before you didn't get the answers she was doubtless looking for.

"Y/n,"

She greeted far too sweetly, her eyebrow twitching ever so slightly below her hairline as her eyes swept over the blanket covered stroller parked in front of you,

"It's lovely to see you. How have you been?"

The question was meant to sound polite, you were sure of it, but the undertone was clear:

"I could have gone my entire life without seeing you again."

It resolved.

"And exactly who did you deem worthy enough to start a family with so soon after breaking Freddie's heart?"

It interrogated.

You scarcely managed to hold back a shudder in response, your smile nervous in spite of your best efforts.

Time had whittled away at your ability to hide how you were feeling, it seemed, since you had last needed to do so during your breakup with Fred.

What a shame, you really could have used that right about now.

"Mrs. Weasley."

You greeted, all but flinching when you nearly said her name instead purely out of habit.

You could scarcely remember the last time you'd had to call the woman by such a formal title, but you supposed you'd lost the right to address her differently the moment you'd thrown Fred's surname back in his face that night in the astronomy tower.

"I've been well. And you?"

Your response was far more submissive to the older woman's intimidation than you'd perhaps intended it to be, but even so, your persistent and undying respect for her won out in the end. It was strange, truly, to consider the woman you'd once very nearly called Mum an enemy.

Molly hummed dismissively in response to your words, brushing off your question with a wave of her hand,

"Oh I've been just the same as always, nothing much to speak of I'm afraid."

She sighed out with faux regret, fixing you with a look of marked interest as she continued,

"But you,"

She said eagerly,

"It would seem that you've been rather busy as of late."

At that, she gestured toward the stroller sat in front of you, and you blanched slightly at the idea of her getting a decent look at its contents.

Molly smiled once more, still far too politely for your comfort,

"Who's the little one, then?"

She coaxed, immediately forcing a short burst of nervous laughter from deep inside your chest.

Once you'd officially regained control of yourself though, you smiled just as politely as she (albeit with an apologetic edge) before replying.

"Little ones, I'm afraid."

You joked, never quite able to stop yourself from trying to make light of a stressful situation.

"Winnifred and Augustine, or, far more popularly, Winnie and August. They're-"

"Twins." Molly finished before you could even get the word out, her eyes widening slightly in surprise, "Yours?"

You nodded slowly, and the woman smiled ever so slightly for the first time since you'd come into view.

"Oh my, my condolences then." She teased, reaching forward to grasp at the blanket that concealed the precious cargo napping away within, doubtless tired after their long day full of bickering back and forth with one another.

She looked up at you then, seemingly unaware of the growing fear in your eyes as you suddenly realized what was about to happen.

"May I?"

She asked, though you could tell from the tone she took that it was far more of a formality than an actual question.

Such was the problem with older women, you'd found - They scarcely seem to bother actually asking your thoughts in regards to them seeing your children.

But this? This certainly could not persist, not if you hoped to-

Without pausing to hear an answer you knew she'd never had any intention of waiting for, Molly Weasley gently tugged at the fabric that had been draped across the front of the carriage, ignoring your nervous sputtering as you tried desperately to find the right words to say.

Unfortunately, they never came.

Forgotten, the blanket that had once hidden your beloved children away from the world fluttered to the ground, and Molly Weasley stared, stock still, at the sight before her.

There, blinking blearily up at the bright lights of the waiting room she was stood in, was a set of twins so familiar that it made her heart skip a beat inside her chest.

Soft ginger hair adorned both of their heads, and delicate freckles far too similar to those she had once threatened to kiss off the faces of her own children decorated their cheeks like stars doubtlessly chock full of constellations just waiting to be found.

But somehow, the feature that caused her the most pause was the eyes of the little ones sitting before her, deep brown and shining in the white overhead lighting of a doctor's office that suddenly felt far too cramped for the feelings she was struggling to maintain control over.

Those eyes bore a striking resemblance to her twins, and somehow even one in particular, one that she knew you were quite familiar with, as things went.

Her gaze darted back up to seek your own, and the moment she found it and saw the overwhelming guilt and fear there, she knew, and her breath caught briefly in her throat.

"Y/n dear,"

She spoke after a few moments of increasingly tense silence, the low chatter of the witches and wizards around you seemingly reduced to nothing as the sound of your own racing heartbeat drowned them out with ease.

Molly reached out to you then, slowly and gingerly, as if you were some wild animal she feared might dart away at any moment.

And truth be told, you very nearly felt like one too, especially as the following question left your almost former mother in law's lips,

"What is their surname?"

And immediately, you shook your head, far too overwhelmed with the situation at hand to handle any of it properly.

Years and years of fleeing in fear of this exact moment had done you no favors in preparing for it, and your shaking hands and tear filled eyes betrayed that fact with an embarrassing level of evidence.

"Oh Molly,"

You begged softly, using the woman's given name for the first time in years,

"Please don't ask me that. I promise you don't want me to say-"

"Winnifred and Augustine Weasley?"

A nurse called out hesitantly to the sea of patients located in the waiting room, her eyes trained briefly on the clipboard in front of her as if to double check her words before she looked back up curiously, gaze sweeping back and forth throughout the space, seeking out the two toddlers scheduled with Dr. Hathaway for the 2:00pm slot.

You felt your heart constrict painfully inside your chest as Molly's hand flew to her mouth, her once so certain fingers trembling as the truth of the matter washed over her like a freezing winter squall.

And, ever the coward when it came to family matters such as this, you were quick to clear your throat, doing your best to hide your red rimmed eyes and tear tracked cheeks before waving your hand slightly to the nurse who was still looking anxiously about the waiting area.

"They're just here. Apologies for the delay, I must have misheard you."

Though, from the positively dread filled look on your face, Molly Weasley could tell you had not.

masterlist

[desideriumwriter]

Metamorphosis | F.W. x Reader

Summary: Fred has been acting differently since he got hurt during the War. You're not sure how many more of his outbursts you can handle.

CW: established relationship, mentions of a head injury, TBIs, migraines, blood, being cut from broken glass, yelling, arguing, crying, not proofread

WC: 4.3k

A/N: now this one is a rollercoaster

based off this request! | f.w. masterlist | navi

Things had been difficult since May.

Voldemort was dead and the war was over. But everyone was dealing with the aftermath.

Things were quiet for a while, people were quiet. Distant but united at the same time. It took a few months for everyone to try and go back to normal.

Now it was November, and Fred was still dealing with the aftermath.

Of course, a head injury from being hit with a spell and a literal stone wall falling on him would have its long-term effects. You’d already read the list over who knows how many times.

Memory loss, light sensitivity, aggression, problems with multitasking, communication issues, irritability, mood swings, forgetfulness, etc. The list went on and on, you hated how long it was. 

You did research on it, listening to his doctors and picking up as many books you could find on head injuries or TBIs.

You even got your hands on some textbooks that muggle medical students used.

George and you took care of Fred after he came back to your shared space above the shop. He spent his first week after being discharged from the hospital at his mums, due to Mollys demands.

Things slowly went back to normal after a few months. Most things.

Shops reopened all along Diagon Alley, including the twins, people felt safe to go out and chat with each other again. 

Life went back to how it was before the war began.

The cold weather was getting harsher and so was Fred. 

You knew that the irritability and mood swings would come along with the injury. You just weren’t expecting it to be so constant.

Fred had his bad days and he had his better days. Today was one of those bad days.

You could tell he was really struggling remembering what was in stock and what needed to be made more of. You sat with him at the counter as he wrote down on a notepad what was needed. Taking notes was one of the things that helped him nowadays.

You saw him look up, the cogs attempting to turn in his head.

“Peruvian Darkness Powder.” You said softly, it was the next thing that needed to be restocked.

“Right. That. Thanks.” He muttered out, crouching over to write it down, his hand shaky and handwriting a bit wobbled.

Frustrated with his shaky hands, he threw the pen down, putting his head in his hands, rubbing his face.

“I just don’t get why it’s so hard. I feel like I can’t properly do anything.” He groaned, the annoyance clear in his voice.

“Fred, it's what the symptoms of a-”

“I know it’s a fucking brain injury. I’ve heard it enough goddamn times. You don’t need to spell it out for me.” Fred spat out, ripping his hand from yours and walking past you. That was the fourth time he snapped at you today.

After closing that night, you sat on the bench right outside the shop. Elbows resting on your knees with your head in your hands.

You were really trying here. Trying your best not to get mad at him, to yell and spit at him as he did you.

He was still your Fred that you loved. He was just a bit different now, and that was okay, he was still your Fred.

The door to the shop opened, the silly tune of the charmed bell playing as a tall figure stepped out. Fred stood to the side of you now, his frame blocked out the light shining on you from the street lamps. The only light now being from the inside of the shop, illuminating his and your face once you looked up.

You breathed in deep, closing your eyes for a second, trying to keep any tears from falling. The cold wind wasn’t helping.

“Hi.” He gave you a shamefaced smile.

George had definitely scolded him and told him to apologize once you went outside. It’s not the first time he’s made him do it in recent times.

“Hi.” You sighed.

“I’m- I didn’t mean to snap at you when you were trying to help me with what needed to be restocked, or when you offered to sort the mail.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly feeling small. The feeling had become constant for him now.

“And before both of those, when you snapped at me in your office. Then in front of one of the cashiers.”

“I did?” He said softly, genuinely shocked. You nodded, brows knit together.

“Oh, I didn’t even realize. I don’t even remember that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so harsh.” Fred looked down, having the same expression as a kicked puppy.

“It’s okay, Fred. I know you don’t mean to.” You slowly nodded.

“I’m trying to not be so rude. I’m trying to be better, I promise.”

“I know, Fred. I know.” You sniffled.

The doctors said practicing patterns would help with cognitive ability. Patterning. So stocking the purple and orange mystery boxes in a pattern would be Fred’s practice.

He began to practice different patterns:

Purple. Orange. Purple. Orange. Repeat.

Then moved onto a bit more strange ones:

Purple. Purple. Orange. Orange. Purple. Orange. Repeat. 

He was struggling a bit more than usual today, you watched as he did, and it broke your heart.

You sighed as you put your notepad away, pausing writing down the grocery list for now and making your way over to Fred.

You reached out, putting the next correctly colored box on the shelf for him. He grumbled out a ‘thanks’.

“I can do the rest for you. Go give your brain a break.” You breathed out a laugh, trying to be lighthearted as you picked up the large box filled with the remaining mystery boxes to be put away.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”  Fred mumbled out, paying you barely any mind.

“Fred, I can tell your stressed enough just let me-“

“Will you piss off? I said I've got it!” Fred didn’t mean to yell, especially in the middle of a busy store, he was just frustrated. 

Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment and anger due to all the staring eyes of confused customers looking at the both of you.

“Fine, fucking do it yourself then.” You shoved the box into his hands. Walking off, pissed off as you threw off your hat onto the counter.

George murmured your name as you walked by, trying to put a hand on your shoulder, you shoved out his grasp.

You hid away in the back stockroom. George followed, entering a tiny bit after you.

You sat on a wooden box, leaned over with your head in your hands. 

“You know he doesn’t mean it. He got blasted pretty hard, it’s just one of the side effects.” George sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You were so tired of those two words. Side effects. Yes, of course you knew what the side effects and symptoms were, that they wouldn’t be pretty or easy. But you were just so sick of hearing it.

You shrugged, lifting your head up.

“He's frustrated. With himself.” George sat down next to you, intertwining his hands into a ball. “He always feels bad after he gets angry.”

“I know, and I’m trying my best to help him out but it’s like he never fucking wants it. He refuses.”

“He’s never liked help, always wanting to be so damn independent and stubborn.” George let out a weak chuckle and shook his head. “It took him five minutes to accept the money Harry gave us. Even after that he tried to tell Harry he’d give it back if he changed his mind.”

“I remember, I was there.” You smiled a bit to yourself at the memory, Fred was so adamant about Harry keeping the money, or at least most of it.

“Chocolate?” He pulled a small bar off one of the shelves, you shook your head. “It’ll make you feel better.” You persuaded, you let out an amused sigh and took it.

“You stole that line from Lupin.” Unwrapping it and biting off a small chunk.

“Yeah, but it works doesn’t it?” You let out a defeated nod and smile in response, taking another bite.

“He’s not gonna be like this forever. You know that. He’s gotten a lot better since May. Just, his moodiness will stick around for a little bit.”

“I know. I’m just so worried about him. I can’t help it.”

George was at Angelinas for the night. It took him ten minutes to stop worrying and finally go, constantly reminding you if you needed his help with Fred, if Fred starts getting mean, to send him an owl and he’d come back immediately. You shooed him off and assured him Fred and you would be fine, that he should go have a worry-free night with Angelina.

It was going well, you watched a short movie and shared some snacks and cuddles on the couch. It was all going so nicely until you both decided to get changed and go to bed.

You slipped on a night shirt talking to Fred about the movie as he opened the top drawer on the wooden dresser. The one that creaked and occasionally jammed from time to time. 

Tonight was one of those times.

He pulled out a pair of pajama pants from the drawer, his eyebrows knitting together when he pushed the drawer and it barely moved. You looked over and frowned disappointedly.

“It’s stuck again.” You sighed, thinking out loud. 

“I know.” Fred muttered out under his breath, you didn’t catch it.

You watched as he repeatedly tried to push it, it wouldn’t budge.

“It’s just old, maybe tomorrow we could go window shopping for a new one?” You suggested sweetly as he didn’t respond, he just clenched his jaw as he continued trying to close it.

He used a terrifying amount of force as he slammed the drawer shut with one last push, causing the whole thing to ratter. The sudden movement and sound made you jump. You took a step back, Fred noticed. His expression faltered for a moment as his eyes scanned your body language.

“What, are you scared of me or something now?” He muttered, an attitude in his voice.

“No, I never said I was scared of you. You just…”

 “What? I’ve just what?” 

You were so sick of his attitude. You took in a deep breath before speaking.

“You’ve been acting up, you’ve been slamming doors, throwing things down when you’re frustrated, you yell more. At George and I especially. You’re unpredictable.” You let out quickly.

“Unpredictable? I have not been that bad. You’re dramatic.” Fred shot back, he was a bit hurt by your words, yet deep down he knew you were right. His actions had become surprising. But he was too damn stubborn and he was in the middle of a beginning argument, so he wouldn’t admit to it now.

“I’m not, you’re proving your point with how you’re being now. You’re being stubborn and defensive. You get angry and you yell at me. When I’m just trying to help! The doctors said-”

“I don’t give a shit what the fucking doctors told you! Or those stupid books you’ve been wasting your time on!” All this yelling hurt his head. But the words were spilling out his mouth like a waterfall of poison. 

“Have you considered your not being any help? If you really wanted to help you’d let me do shit myself instead of acting like I’m fucking stupid! You wouldn’t be walking on eggshells around me! You’d let me be instead of being a pounding in my head!” His chest heaved, his face slowly being filled with regret as he saw you. Taking a step back with the most painful stare at him, astonishment and hurt written all over your face.

He watched as you brought your arms up around you, holding yourself as if it was a way of shielding yourself from his words.

“Is that really what you think of me?” Your voice went soft. A small crack in your delivery of words as you rubbed your upper arm.

“No! Absolutely not! I just- I’m-” Here comes the sputtered out apologies, the regret filling him up immediately, you just shook your head.

“Forget it, I’m done with this conversation.” You barged out the room. That look never leaving your face, it will haunt him forever.

“Where are you going? I thought you were going to bed?” He called out as you went down the hallway.

“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.” You shouted back, more of a loud mutter really. Fred said your name disappointedly, leaning against the bedroom door frame. You didn’t respond, you didn’t turn around, you made your way to the couch.

He didn’t run after and stop you. Knowing you’d give him the silent treatment and refuse to get in the same bed as him. For tonight only. Hopefully.

Though you tried to muffle and hide your sobs behind your hands, Fred could still hear it all the way from the bedroom. Those pained sharp breaths in that turned into wheezes, the little hiccups and whimpers of sadness you made when you breathed out were far too loud to be hidden.

You cried for two hours until you finally got a grip of yourself. Getting up and going down the hallway, not to get back in bed, but to see if Fred was.

You peeked your head in just enough to see his side of the bed, he was laying on his back peacefully, his eyes puffy. Had he been crying also?

He was relaxed now though, resting. At least he was getting some sleep. You quietly sneaked back to the living room. Lying back down on the couch and using a throw pillow for your head. 

You couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t keep your eyes shut, couldn’t stop thinking, you couldn’t sleep. You missed him, you really just wanted to be next to him.

By the time the clock ticked to 2AM, you got up, tiptoeing back into the bedroom. Sneaking to your side of the bed, so carefully pulling back the sheets. You moved so carefully, so lightly, so gently as if everything was made of fine china. 

You debated if you should snuggle up to Fred, not wanting to wake him. What if he got annoyed again? You really didn’t want to deal with another conflict.

You carefully scooted over to him anyways, testing your luck. You slowly wrapped your arm around his torso, ever so lightly laying your head on his chest. He began to move and your body immediately tensed up.

His arm hooked around you, circling your waist, the other arm reaching over, his hand softly placed on the side of your head. Your body went limp in happiness. You could start crying again from all the joy you felt in this moment.

This is how you knew Fred hadn’t become a whole other person than the one you knew before the accident. His hands on you, holding onto you so sweetly, just like he used to. There were still those little remnants of his true self hanging around. He was still Fred. He was still your Fred.

You woke up to an empty bed. The sunlight shining down on Freds side of the mattress.

You changed into more presentable clothes, hearing the chatter from downstairs and knowing the shop was open. 

Going downstairs, Fred was nowhere to be seen while George was moving around helping customers and constantly casting spells to organize things.

Owning a joke shop was absolutely not a one man job.

“Where’s Fred?” You asked, looking around as you approached the counter. George was stacking cards. 

“In his office. Another migraine.” He tucked in his lips, seemingly annoyed.

“Oh. Well, I’m gonna go out, probably window shop. Do you need anything?”

“Could you get some cabbage? And a few more quills and ink? We’re running low.” He said, swiveling his way out from behind the counter.

You may have stayed out longer than you meant to.

Thinking you’d be back before five, you got home at nearly eight instead.

You did some looking around in local furniture shops, and you picked up what George asked for. You mostly just walked around the quieter streets, needing to get away from all the noise.

By the time you got back it was a bit dark outside and there was a closed sign on the shop door. You unlocked and locked it quickly, moving upstairs tiredly.

The living room light was turned off, the moonlight from outside being the only thing that made the room somewhat visible. Fred was sitting on the couch.

“Hey.” You spoke softly. 

“Hi.”

“Where’d George go?”

“He stopped by Angelina’s for dinner.” He said blankly. Everything felt so awkward.

“Oh. Have you eaten?” You asked as you set down the bags of supplies.

“Yeah, I had some leftovers.”

“Okay, well, what’re you doing in the dark? Get some light in here.” You giggled as you flipped up the light switch, overhead light brightening up the room.

Fred quickly scrunched his eyes closed with a pained expression, he put a hand up to shadow his face.

Fuck. Light sensitivity. He was already dealing with a migraine, that’s why he was in the dark, and you turning on the light made it much more intense.

“Shit. Sorry, sorry, sorry.” You blurted out as you hit the switch down, the room going darker again.

“Here, I’ll- I’ll get you a glass of water.” You sputtered out, running over to the kitchen sink and grabbing a glass, filling it up with cold water from the tap.

“No, you don’t have to.” Fred muttered out.

“Please, it’ll help. Just let me help.” You pleaded as you ran back over to the couch, sitting down and holding the glass towards him. He denied it again.

“Fred, just drink-“

“I told you! No!” He shouted, pushing your hand away.

The glass slipped out of your grasp. Hitting the floor and cracked into pieces, somewhere in the impact a small shard hit your lower leg. Nothing serious, it could be quickly closed up with a spell, but it was bleeding heavily already.

Fred realized what had happened once you felt the stung and winced, holding a hand over your small injury, crimson staining your hand and dripping onto your sock.

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He panicked as he straightened up, patting his sides for his wand, he had left it in his office. He saw yours on the coffee table.

“Here, let me fix-” He reached one hand towards your wand, the other laying on your shoulder.

“Don’t. It’s fine, I’ve got it.” You said as you reached across, grabbing your wand and leaned your shoulder away from his touch.

His stomach twisted, the guilt was eating him up. He fidgeted with his fingers, not knowing what to do with his hands now that you refused his touch and his help.

You said a quick spell, the cut swiftly closing, skin looking unharmed and the only evidence of what happened being the remnants of drying blood on your leg and hand.

“I’m gonna go wash off my hands.” You said so quietly, almost a whisper. Fred stayed silent as he watched you get up and walk away, he wanted to cry.

You returned to the living room with a packed suitcase, quickly walking past Fred on the couch and to the chimney. His eyes stayed glued on you the entire time. You didn’t look at him.

“You’re leaving?” Freds brows knit together in a sad way, he sat up straight from his spot on the couch.

“Yeah. Not for long. I’ll be back.” You spoke, back facing him as you put down your small suitcase.

“Where?”

“A friends place. For a few days.” You didn’t tell him who, he would most likely send letters apologizing.

George was the one who suggested it surprisingly. Once he came home as you were washing off the blood, he told you to go take a few days to yourself.

“No offense to you, you’ve been doing great. But I’ve lived with him for nearly twenty-six years. I know how to deal with him when he’s mad.” He held your shoulders.

“I know how to deal with him too, you know.” 

“Of course I do. But I know you’re worn out as well. You need to take some care of yourself. Focus on you for a few days.” You really didn’t want to agree with George on that, it felt rude to do it. There was really no good way of saying he was wearing you down.

“I’m sorry.” Fred spoke out.

“I know, Fred.” You let out a heavy breath. “I’m not mad at you. I think we should take a break from each other.” You tried not to let your voice wobble.

“You don’t mean a break up, right?” He stood up from the couch.

“No. Of course not.” You finally turned around, looking at his gloomy face. “We just need to spend some time apart, just for a day or so. Okay?” You kept your voice soft and nurturing, hoping it would hide the way your own words were breaking your heart.

"Can I just get a hug before you leave? Please?" Fred took a few steps closer, his steps cautious. You closed your eyes and nodded.

You didn’t want to look at him for too long, both of your faces were threatening to deteriorate into tears, and you couldn’t stand to see it.

He pulled you into him nicely, hands slowly and carefully wrapping around you like you would crack if he moved the wrong way.

“I’m sorry I’m like this. I love you.” He said softly, sounding like it was a plea for you to stay.

“I know.” You mumbled into his chest.

Fred’s injury didn’t bother you. The forgetfulness of struggles with certain things didn’t bother you, you didn’t care if he struggled to keep track with things. 

It was just his anger. His outbursts. His shouting. That’s what bothered you, it was nothing like him. Sure, he’s definitely gotten moody or stubborn or annoyed before like during Quidditch matches back at Hogwarts or when a much needed shipment arrived late at the shop.

But you’ve rarely seen him truly mad, yell like he does now, the only time you can remember him like that is when he had to be held back from helping George and Harry beat up Malfoy after a match in his seventh year.

“I still love him, of fucking course I do. But he’s changed so much. it’s like,” You stopped, clenching your jaw and trying your best trying to keep tears from returning. “It’s like sometimes I look at him, and he’s a ghost, he’s a completely different man I fell in love with all those years ago.”

“You’ve changed too.” Alicia commented, “You’re not as much of a hermit as you used to be.” She joked, poking you.

“Oh piss off.” You let out a breathy chuckle, face falling soon after. “I’m scared. What if he stays like this forever?” You whispered out, a small crack in your voice.

“He won’t. You told me already, there’s still that cheeky little Fred that you’ve always know still in him. He’s getting better day by day.” She tilted her head. “And fuck it. Even if he doesn’t, even if it takes a while, you gotta grow with him.” You looked at her, puzzled expression on your face.

“If you don’t grow with him, if you aren’t willing to go through that, then what in the hell are you doing?” She shrugged, laying back in her chair. “You’ve gone through these shitty times with him before, right? And you both made it through. What makes you worried you won’t be able to do it again?” 

Alicia was right. You’ve gone through rough patches with him and made it out just fine. Casual disagreements, arguments and fights, yet you always made up. Leaving those arguments in the past and loving each other in the present.

“You staying another night?” Alicia asked you, taking a sip from her glass.

“No, I think I’ll go back. I’ll send an owl and tell them before I go.”

Once the green flames subsided and you stepped out of the chimney, dusting off your clothes. Fred came running into the room, a bouquet of all the flowers in his hand.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Feeling alright today?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

God, you hated the awkward tension in the air. It felt like this every time you had a conversation.

“That’s good. Uh, these are for you.” He stuck out the bouquet nervously, hand trembling. You put down your suitcase and stepped closer. A small noise of adoration left as you looked at the flowers, it was all your favorites.

“I may not be able to remember much. But I remembered these were always your favorite.” He let out an awkward laugh.

The last time you told him what flowers you liked was in year five. You took the bouquet from him with hesitant hands, surprised by the gift. Fred swallowed his anxiety before he began to speak again.

“I didn’t mean to be so rude. I just get so frustrated with myself, I don’t want to act like that anymore. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you, you didn’t deserve it.” He moved to cup his hands around your face, bringing your teary eyes to meet his.

“I promise you I’m going to be better. I swear on everything. I will be better.” He gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead, then pulled you into a hug. 

You held on tightly to his torso, turning the flowers away to keep them from being crushed.

“I love you.” You said into his sweater, tears beginning to fall.

“I love you too. So much.”

tell me what you thought! <3

[ervotica]

loved up?

pairing; fred weasley x fem!reader

series; the bestfriendverse NEW! (ongoing)

warnings; allusions to self harm (reader), pining, idiots in love (but they don't know it yet), a lil sad but also fluffy

synopsis; fred gives you - his obviously platonic best friend - a cuddle in the common room. an interrogation ensues.

a/n; i'm veeeery rusty but i'm back bitches!! and proud to present.... the bestfriendverse. turning this into a lil series of drabbles (& hopefully longer chapters) if my brain keeps braining for long enough. so requests are muchly appreciated and my inbox is always open. cannot wait to explore these two in more depth!!! missed you all </3

You're halfway into Fred's lap when George and Lee round the corner to the common room, melty soft and warm with your legs over his thighs, eyes closed and lashes brushing at the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

He smells lovely.

He feels even lovelier – that soft rumble of his chest that lazily pushes its way through you, his hand at the side of your neck, keeping you nuzzling against him like a needy kitten. He hikes you further up and you preen, eyes still closed, half asleep and well on your way to drooling on his shoulder.

You stretch and wheedle your arms underneath his own until your shoulder is squeezed beneath his armpit. He makes room for you, as expected.

"Oi! They're having a love-fest in here!" Lee says. You groan and dig your head further into Fred's neck. Your heartbeat ticks up when he scrubs a sweeping circle over your back with his palm outstretched –you don't even mind when he rucks up your t-shirt.

You diligently ignore the hammering in your own ears.

The other end of the settee dips and George's weight settles at your back, knuckles brushing at the back of your neck in a way he knows makes you bristle and squirm. You squeak and make to dive behind Fred.

"Leave her be, Georgie," Fred says, mock offence dripping from his every syllable. His arm lifts instinctively and he ushers you right under until you're well and truly squashed, your whole body curled inward against his chest. It's endearing how seriously he takes defending your honour. "We were very comfortable before you interrupted, you silly sod."

"I resent that comment."

"You resemble it, more like."

George gasps in faux horror. You tip your head upwards just in time to watch Lee throw his arms around the pair of you, a devious grin on his face.

You know what he's going to say, no matter how much you wish he wouldn't.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you two looked proper loved up. Wouldn't you agree, George?"

"Absolutely."

If Fred feels you deflate, he's gracious enough not to mention it. Your lips purse and you busy yourself picking at your cuticles.

"Shut up," Fred snorts as though the thought alone is utterly ridiculous. Your heart does this awful sort of flip-flop that knocks the breath right out of you– it leaves an ache that carries right down to your toes.

You try to disentangle yourself from him as smoothly as possible. You want to run and hide from this conversation, the very conversation you've been rehearsing over and over in your head for months.

Being in love with your best friend isn't for the faint of heart.

Fred clings when you attempt to slide out of his grip, tugging you right back into his side. Heat rises to your cheeks so fast you feel faint.

Honestly, you might pass out right now.

Lee's already distracted, animatedly discussing the next upcoming prank with almost concerning fervour. Fred absentmindedly fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt as he listens.

Godric, you're burning up.

You can feel George's eyes on you. You know what he wants to say – can picture it right down to the pitying look in his eyes. He's always been the more observant twin.

You don't want to hear it.

Fred won't let go no matter how much you fidget. You pick at your nails until red pools at the edges of your cuticles. The sting prickles at your eyes.

"Hey." Fred's attention snaps to you suddenly. "What's the matter, lovie? You feeling alright?"

Fucking hell. He must be doing it on purpose, surely. Your throat burns.

"Nothing," you croak. "I'm okay."

It's just convincing enough for him to leave it, though you're half sure you'll be questioned later.

He smears a kiss to the crown of your head before he stands and it almost finishes you off.

That boy is going to be the death of you.

[andillneverbethesame]

𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔.

❥ pairings: fred weasley x fem!gryffindor!reader

❥ summary: "i don't want you like a best friend, only bought this dress so you could take it off"

❥ warnings: underage drinking.... nothing much really

❥ word count: 1,4k

❥ a/n: based off the horniest song blondie could ever write, dress.

requested by @stevies-sweetie , hope u enjoy it. tysm for the request!!!

you looked into the mirror at yourself as angelina was finishing your hair and did a couple of changes in your make up. when she was done, you stood up to check the dress that you had bought in hogsmeade, and definitely not because george told you fred was going to wear a suit of the very similar colour.

"you look hot," your friend katie commented. "fred's going to drool when he sees you."

you rolled your eyes but the thought made blood rush into your cheeks.

"well," you sighed, "in case you have forgotten, me and fred aren't going together. i'm going with peter kerridge."

angelina scoffed. "can't believe you said yes to him. he's a complete jerk."

"well, nobody else has asked me. especially not fred," you said deffensively.

"i don't understand why, though," katie frowned. "even a blind person would be able to tell he likes you."

"apparently not," you retorted, enough with the topic of fred. it suddenly hit you how crazy it was to buy wine coloured dress just to match fred. he will probably be busy with his date to even spare you a glance and notice it.

with a sigh and a last look in the mirror, you made your way out of the dorm into the common room.

fred was already there, talking to his brother. just as george told you, the boy you fancied was truly wearing wine-coloured suit and you had to stop yourself from staring because, god, he looked so beautiful.

fred turned around just in time to see you walking down the stairs. his mouth slightly opened as his eyes scanned you up and down.

"you look so divine," he breathed out, reaching for your hand.

you blinked. "me?"

he chuckled. "yes. who else?"

just then, fred looked behind you, drawing his hand back. you turned around to see fred's date. she was very pretty though you hated to admit that. however, her dark blue dress didn't match fred's suit.

jealousy pulsed through your veins at the sight of them intertwining her arms and you looked away, deciding that it was time to meet peter in front of the entrance to the common room.

he looked handsome, peter, i mean. he wasn't bad looking at all, no. a lot of girls wished to be in your shoes at that very moment but your heart didn't pick up its pace when you locked your arms together or when he said you looked beautiful or when he held your waist as you two danced. you could only pretend that he was fred.

speaking of him, fred seemed to have far more fun than you. laughing with his date, george and angelina as you were sulking in chair while peter was getting you drinks.

angelina was right, peter was a complete jerk, talking about himself the whole night while you were only pretending to listen to whatever he was talking about and glancing over at fred across the whole great hall.

when peter approached you with the drinks, you chugged the whole glass in one go. your date stared at you wide-eyed before chuckling and asking if you want to dance again.

you shook your head but he kept bugging you, saying how boring you are and how he thought it was going to be more fun and how he then, standing there in front of you while the alcohol started doing its' job on you, wished he asked the girl that went with fred instead.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes so much that it hurt.

"of course! everybody wants to go with (name)!"

you crossed your arms on your chest and let out a sigh of relief when peter finally left you alone.

harry and ron joined you shortly after. they, just like you, weren't enjoying the night like everyone else. harry was in very similar situation like you, after all. he wanted to go with cho chang who went with cedric diggory and so, the boy spent the entire night glaring in his direction.

few minutes and about thousands of alcohol-filled glasses later, you started to feel your head spin. you were almost certain that if you tried to stood up and walk somewhere, you would most likely fall.

you were so lost in thoughts, staring at your lap and feet that you didn't notice fred approaching you. it was only when he tapped your shoulder that you glanced up at him.

fred didn't take that personally though as he sat down next to you, grinning from ear to ear. "hi."

you raised an eyebrow and blinked drunkely. "yes?" you asked, sounding more rudely than you intended to.

"hi?"

"how are you?"

you scoffed as if it wasn't obvious from your mood. "perfectly fine."

"mhm, yeah, i can see that." he then stood up and handed you his hand. "would you like to dance with me?"

you shrugged, hoping to hide the blush on your cheeks as you stood up and he took your hand into his.

as he dragged you to the dance floor though, you tripped over your feet and you would fall to the ground if fred didn't catch you in time.

he chuckled and said, "alright, dancing might not be the best for you right now," he paused as you placed your head on his shoulder, eyes dropping. "oh, no, love, don't you fall asleep on me. let's get you to your dorm, yeah?"

you hummed and fred lead you out of the great hall up the staircase which was quite difficult for you to walk up. fred would lie if he said if he didn't find you hilarious and absolutely adorable at that moment. but he always did.

"don't you think we'd be in your dorm faster if i gave you a piggyback ride?" he asked.

you nodded and fred bent in his knees so you could get on his back. you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head against his, breathing in his hair shampoo that you loved so much.

you almost fell asleep by the time you arrived in your dorm but once you did, fred sat you down on his bed and carefully took off your heels.

"did you have fun tonight?" fred questioned, tried to keep you awake.

you pouted. "no," you hiccupped. "peter's a dick."

he smiled. "but you knew that when he asked you. why did you go with him?"

"cause you didn't ask me," you said, making fred freeze, glancing up at you.

"we-well," he stuttered, "i didn't know if you'd say yes. you're my best friend. . ."

"you're mine, too," you shrugged and bit your lip. "but maybe i don't want you like a best friend."

fred shook his head. "you have no idea what you're saying, y/n." your heels were off and so he stood up and you did too. you reached to your back for the zipper of your dress and even though you could reach it perfectly, you had an idea.

he was so close to you with his hands now on your almost bare shoulders and you could feel his hot breath on your neck and back. you shuddered but he didn't pull away. you turned around to face him and bumped your nose with his before connecting your lips together.

"could you help me?" you whispered and the good friend freddie was, he nodded and pulled the zipper down.

you really wanted to go further, but fred pushed you away, causing your eyes to widen as you thought, oh no what did i do?

"oh, love, no," he tucked a string of your hair behind your ear before taking your face into his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that fell from your eyes. "i'd love to continue this, but you're so drunk and i'm quite sober. i don't want to take advantage of you."

"you wouldn't," you mumbled and let the straps of your dress fall from your shoulders. fred's cheeks turned redder than his hair at the sight of your bare chest. he turned around to give you privacy and you grinned. "don't worry. i only bought this dress so you could take it off, anyway."

that night was the beginning of something magical.

[emeritusemeritus]

You think you know someone. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: You think you know someone.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Timeline: OOTP- canon and timelines altered for purposes of the story. Some bits have been exaggerated for artistic purposes. Based more on the films than the books. Reader joins DA but what if instead of Cho ratting them out, it’s you?

Summary: You had everything during your time at Hogwarts- good friends, Fred Weasley as your boyfriend and a promising future, until Dolores Umbridge turns up.

Warnings: This one turned out a little dark. Mentions of injury, torture, bullying, wounds, blood. Umbridge is a bitch. Snape is a bully. Use of unforgivable curses. Punishment. Kissing, pranks, swearing. Dumbledore’s Army and resistant forces. Brief mentions of Voldemort and probable war. Pet names: baby, sweetheart, princess. Not beta read. Happy ending I promise.

Word count: 9.3k (I feel like I’ve written a novel here)

This work is gifted to @kellyxo1 thanks to the wonderful request that I couldn’t turn down! I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to get this out but it’s been a complete labour of love and I hope you like it!💕

You knew Dolores Umbridge was trouble the moment you spotted her in the Great Hall, her gaudy pink outfit and matching pink cheeks made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst the classic, muted colour pallet you knew to be Hogwarts. Her smile unnerved you, the cold expression in her eyes never once matching the infallible twisted, sadistic smile that so often painted her face. Everything about her rang alarm bells in your mind.

Fred and George had been sitting either side of you at the banquet table in the Great Hall as she took centre stage and delivered her speech about being very good friends, as ominous and foreboding as it seemed.

"That's likely," the twins had mumbled, resting their heads on their hands, elbows on the table as a small act of rebellion against the airs and graces she clearly put on. You'd subconsciously scooted closer to Fred when she stood, reaching for his spare hand under the table that he'd offered you, sensing a little of your discomfort. Fred was always acutely aware of your emotions, able to read you like a book, you supposed it was a natural consequence of being together for so long.

You'd met on the first day of Hogwarts when you'd stepped into the train compartment he shared with George, locked eyes and the rest was history. You'd been dating since your second year, both of you unable to deny the childlike crushes and stolen glances of your attraction and as you grew up, you grew together. Now you were in your last year, with big plans ahead of Fred and George's business which you'd planned to help them with initially and bigger promises of moving in together in the flat above the shop. The natural progression of a happy relationship and an exciting prospect that kept you motivated to finish school on a high.

The atmosphere at Hogwarts was different this year: understandably tense and foreboding, not just because of Cedric's death and the rumoured return of Voldemort but of the disquiet around Harry's claims and the propagandistic reporting from the Daily Prophet refuting Harry's claims. It seemed everyone was divided into wether they believed Harry or if they believed what they were reading in the media. It was evident that the ministry had worked hard to deny and deflect Harry'a claims, disparaging and slandering him publicly. Of course the arrival of a certain Pink adorned dementor didn't help things, especially when she, as new defense against the dark arts teacher, did away with the old curriculum and removed any defensive, practical teaching in favour of simple theory- which would be of no use in real life situations, of which you were all undoubtedly facing. Then the educational decrees began where she was appointed Hogwarts' high inquisitor and sought to change anything she was as unsatisfactory, backed by the ministry, which seemed to propel the whole school further and further away from what it should be teaching and how it should be preparing it's students for what was inevitably happening.

"She can't do this! It's ridiculous, George is fuming, never mind Fred," you overheard Ginny say as you were about to take a seat for dinner but quickly stopped as you gave her a questioning look, not knowing what she meant, her eyes focusing in on your frozen form.

"What?"

"You haven't seen the new decree?" She asks curiously, placing down her fork onto the plate. You shook your head briefly before walking quickly out of the hall, dinner be damned to examine the wall of decrees, trying to fix your eyes onto the new plaque on the wall.

Educational Decree No. 30: All Weasley products will be banned immediately.

You rushed upstairs to the common room, split in two minds about wether they would be there or on the quidditch pitch, trying to expel their frustrations... until you remembered that broom flying had been outlawed unless part of a lesson or during Quidditch games, as few and far between as they were coming due to the constant cancelling.

When you found them in their dorm, George was pacing the room, kicking the wooden frame of his bed after every circuit whilst Fred sat perched on his own bed, face downcast and eyes filled with anger.

You knew it wouldn't stop them, nothing ever did, but the business they forged from nothing had suffered for a while as students were afraid of the repercussions of being searched and found with their products.

"Can't sell my products, can't fly a broom, can't even kiss my own girlfriend unless I find a way to snog her from six inches away!" Fred had been furious and rightly so but there seemed to be no hope in sight.

It seemed no one was unaffected by the drastic measures Umbridge was taking and you were all facing the consequences of the increasing restrictions, in multiple ways. You'd been given detention for the stupidest things, including casting a spell to undo the jinx Malfoy had placed on Neville one afternoon, another leg lock jinx that you'd fixed for him, received another for the muggle book in your possessions and another for deigning to be within six inches of George. The punishment was cruel and twisted but you'd hidden it from Fred, knowing how protective he was and how he'd act out to retaliate against her which would only land him in worse trouble. She seemed to focus on you in particular, for whatever reason you weren't sure but she hardly hid her distaste for you publicly. Fred said it was because of your connection to him and George but you weren't sure, it seemed more personal than that.

It had been Hermione's brilliant idea to forge a sort of rebellion in order to actually learn the practical side of defence and you'd been eager to sign up after attending the first meeting at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, knowing that you had to arm yourself in whatever way you could, the feeling of unease at the current climate always looming overhead. You'd been pleasantly surprised by the turn out, seeing many familiar faces as you'd walked hand in hand with Fred into the small, freezing cold room as you waited for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Cho, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Michael and so many others from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had turned out to fight for the cause and as you looked around the room of friends and familiars, it was evident that this could work.

You'd signed the parchment Hermione had brought with no hesitation, lining up between Fred and Ginny, clearly marking your name under his in the pencil provided. As you walked back to the castle in a group, Fred's arm around you and his hat in your head to keep the cold away from your ears, you felt determined and inspired to make this work. You'd just need to find somewhere to practice away from the prying eyes of the inquisitor.

Then came Educational Decree No.68: All student organisations are henceforth be disbanded. Any student in noncompliance will be expelled.

This time, you weren't angered or afraid of the newly instated restriction but instead felt empowered to rebel. Neville, in a feat of brilliance, had discovered the room of requirement one Saturday afternoon as he made his way down the seventh floor corridor. It was perfect, exactly what was needed, and you'd all wasted no time in putting the room to good use.

Within just two weeks, you'd mastered disarming spells, stunning spells, hexes, jinxes and defensive charms that you'd never thought you could do. Ginny had proven herself to be incredibly skilled and you'd stood watching in amazement as two magpies flying around the room, both coming from your boyfriend and his twin. The twins had taken to placing bets, mostly against Ron, all of you in good spirits about finally being able to do magic again. You and Fred took full advantage of being shielded away from the eyes of Hogwarts and had taken to lingering in the room after the sessions so you could be close to each other, to kiss freely and be intimate again. It had seemed so long, so cruel to have to keep away from him, at least in public and as you watched him master spells so effortlessly and looking so deliciously hot as he did it, often with messy hair and rolled up sleeves, it was exactly what you needed to relieve yourself of the building frustrations.

Fun and laughter had once again returned to Hogwarts, though shielded from the regulating eyes, it was just like before. The twins had even taken to pranking again, no longer concerned by the changes, including giving Filch laced chocolates which made him erupt with giant, puss-filled boils on his face when he got too close to the scent of your secret gatherings.

Educational decree No. 82: All students will submit to questioning about suspected illicit activities.

Umbridge had began to gather students for an inquisitorial squad which would earn them credit for joining, most notably the Slytherin students that weaselled their way into Umbridge's good books. Most probably by being pure bloods. They took great pleasure in pulling up the younger students in particular for punishment or questioning and abused their powers frequently.

Then you returned to school after winter break and the news of the Azkaban breakout happened, constant storms were forecasted, Umbridge's cruel regime heightened. Everything felt so restrictive, so unnecessary, so twisted. The only place you found solace was during DA meetings when you could be yourself, free to act and perform as you wanted surrounded by your friends and boyfriend. Always alert at the imposing threat, knowing Filch was on to you all and the rest of the inquisitorial squad which only fuelled you to keep discreet.

It had been a regular day of classes until your DADA lesson where you'd been required by the toad to write an essay on the benefits of conversational reasoning as opposed to practical magic to handle disputes with half breeds and lower class species, such as centaurs. You'd almost immediately refused to write such things, particularly due to the disgusting terms used to class different species but also due to the ridiculous concept.

"I am teaching you verified way of effective communication, in which you do not have to use your wand," she defends with a sickeningly fake smirk.

"Or our brains by taking away our autonomy," you'd argued, not even under your breath.

"Are you questioning my methods of teaching miss y/l/n? By all means if you think you can do better I should like to see you try."

"Can't be hard, Professor Quirrel did a better job and he shared a head and a singular brain cell with Voldemort."

A murmur of concealed laughter burst from the students around you and for a singular moment you felt the victory of it, empowered even.

"Detention!" She's utterly outraged, her face turning a dangerous shade of fuchsia. You could feel the eyes on you, most notably your boyfriend and his twin from across the room but you didn't care. Since returning to school you'd been torn away from Fred, unable to be anywhere near each other and certainly not in a group with your friends as it would break at least three decrees. You were frustrated and had hit breaking point, anger simmering in you but why you didn't know. You'd completely had enough.

"It's a date Dolores," you said sarcastically with the sickliest smile you could muster. More snickers erupted around you and even a clap that sounded suspiciously like it came from the direction of your future brother in law.

"My office, now!" She screams, pointing with her pink tipped finger towards the door. You grabbed your stuff from the desk and walked out without a single look in anyone's direction. On your way to her office, you pulled the special coin from your pocket and checked over the date and time to check you had it right. There was a DA meeting later that evening and you'd hoped this would be over quickly so that you could still attend.

Only, that never happened. Instead you'd been tortured for hours in the cruelest of ways, repeatedly questioned over your involvement with the alleged group and had been forced to drink truth serum until the words had slipped out of your mouth. You'd had no control over it, no way of resisting any longer and with great shame, you'd told her about the room of requirement, completely unable to stop the words from coming out.

The inquisitorial squad was on you in mere moments, as soon as Umbridge had signalled them from outside the door and Malfoy's grubby hands were pulling your weak and exhausted body from the chair before you could even register the intrusion. The things you'd been through, the pain and the anguish, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt at the DA being discovered; you could only pray that you'd held out long enough so that the meeting was over.

"Where is it?!" Umbridge screamed into your face when you wouldn't disclose the exact location of the room of requirement, having already inadvertently let slip that the room was your meeting place. You gave her your darkest look, no longer feeling controlled by whatever she had obviously put in your tea. When she didn't get an answer, her hand struck you hard right across the cheek but you hardly flinched, hardly feeling the pain anymore.

"I know the way Ma'am," Filch said, his saggy face appearing around the corner creepily, his features twisting into a vulgar, perverse smile. You could hardly look at Umbridge's face as it twisted into a pleased, twisted grin as she fixed her jacket and allowed Filch to lead her. Malfoy grabbed hold of your robes tighter in his fist and you were dragged along with them until you reached the seventh floor.

You felt sick to your stomach, wanting to scream and cry, resist in anyway you could as you fought against Malfoy's hold but you were physically tired and weak. Crabbe had grabbed hold of the other side of you, your thrashing too much for Malfoy to hold down by himself and his hands were much tougher against your skin, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. When the door to the room of requirement didn't appear, you felt hopeful that she'd realise you were lying, even if that meant horrendous consequences for you. There was no way of warning them, nothing you could do to allow them to flee, you'd have to watch as they were all caught redhanded. They'd think you ratted them out, your friends, the love of your life. You knew it was exactly what Umbridge wanted, to turn everyone against you- and she was undoubtedly going to get it.

"Bombarda Maxima," her eerily calm and squeaky voice rang out as she pointed her want at the wall. Your scream mixed in with the large bang as a giant hole was created in the wall, depris and dust flying everywhere.

When the dust cloud cleared, you were dragged off from the side viciously by Malfoy and Crabbe until you were presented in front of the Army- your friends. You didn't want to look up from your spot on the floor, still fighting against their holds on you but something made you look up. And then you met his eyes.

Fred had never looked at you that way, ever. The looks of love and adoration you'd become accustomed to over the years, the playfulness and the intimate looks, it was all gone. The look in his eyes would haunt you forever, the coldness, betrayal and the resentment and it was explicitly clear what his expression told you.

He believed that you ratted them out, believed that you could ever do that to him, to them all.

You had to look away, desperate to see any hope that someone believed you, that someone sympathised with the torment you'd endured but as your eyes travelled across to George, you stopped short. He looked furious with you, disgusted and despite everything you'd been through in the past few hours, you'd receive no sympathy or chance to explain yourself to the people you loved.

You were dragged away as Umbridge dealt with the Army, bestowing threats and punishments upon them that you couldn't hear. You no longer fought against the holds of the Slytherins but instead went willingly, feeling guilty, shame and simply dirty for your role in all of this, even if it wasn't your fault.

Members of the ministry arrived not too long after, having been alerted prior to the discovery of the DA. You couldn't look at Kingsley, much too distraught to see his look of disgust at you, no doubt planning to tell the Order what you'd done. Harry was ushered in not long after having been caught in the skirmish. His newfound hatred of you seemed to radiate off him as he stood beside you and this alone made you want to scream and cry out of frustration, tears welling in your eyes that you wouldn't allow to spill.

The final straw was when Percy walked in, without so much as a glimmer of recognition towards you and took over from Malfoy to restrain you and Harry, keeping the shoulder of your robe balled up in his hand. The minister ordered him to dispatch an owl to the Daily Prophet and he diligently nodded, trying to manoeuvre you along with him.

"Get off me Weatherby," you demanded viciously, fighting against his hold and managing to break free, only to be stopped as you all looked on in amazement as Dumbledore disappeared out of sight in a magnificent display.

You'd hoped after that, you'd be able to get Harry alone, to explain yourself to him, to tell him what had happened but he'd completely avoided you, blanked you entirely. You hardly blamed him but you needed to explain, to clear your name. Umbridge then commanded Harry to join her in the hall where the punishment was being conducted, all of the DA together.

You'd been permitted to return to your dorm after the meeting had finished but you stood outside of the hall doors, desperate to see Fred and explain yourself, hoping he could bring you at least an ounce of comfort. Your head was pounding from the pain earlier and the marks on your arms were throbbing, sore and weeping though you fought not to look at them, knowing the pain would only be worse when you saw what was tormenting you. You couldn't go to Madame pomfrey, Umbridge had made that very clear and so you suffered in complete silence until you could reach out for your friends.

You lingered outside of the door for what felt like hours, the anxiety and the nerves you felt seemingly freezing time. When the doors opened, the members of the DA began pouring out with soured looks on their faces which only heightened when they caught sight of you. It was never hard to spot Fred and George amongst a crowd, their towering height easily distinguishable amongst a sea of people.

The look on everyone's face was near identical, the disgust and the resentment evident in their eyes as they spotted you but none clearer than the twins. George looked like he detested you, his face scrunched into a look of utter distaste, eyes glaring into you as he walked past without a care. Fred looked away, ignoring your presence completely as he glided past you without muttering a single word, his face stone cold and void of expression.

"Freddie, please," you said weakly and emotionally, with tears in your eyes, turning around in the spot as he walked past you. But nothing, he didn't turn, didn't react, simply walked away without so much as a single glance.

"Harry," you implored, taking a step towards him but he too blanked you again, pushing past you and walking quickly up the steps to avoid you.

You stood alone in the cold and empty corridor, feeling more isolated and alone than you ever had and finally allowed yourself to cry. Silent tears fell down your cheeks, shoulders sagging as you cried for everything you had undoubtedly lost, for the treatment you'd received and for the pain you still felt in your head and arms. Finding a spot in a hidden corner, you finally allowed yourself to pull up the sleeve of your robe and look upon the damage that Umbridge had inflicted with her sadistic quill. It was horrendous, an onslaught of slurs and vicious words etched into your body, no doubt intentionally done to leave the scars as a permanent reminder.

You sobbed your heart out in that little nook between two cold, stone pillars as you tried desperately to heal the marks but no spell was strong enough even to numb it in your weakened state.

You eventually made your way to Gryffindor tower, stepping through the portrait and finding the common room practically deserted. You sighed and walked up the stone steps to your dorm, only to find that the door had been shut and your blanket and pillow had been thrown outside of it, a clear sign you were not welcome even within your own dorm. You were painfully exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and cry into your pillow until you eventually passed out. But you didn't even deserve that.

With a heavy sigh, you collected your blanket and pillow and trudged down the steps back towards the common room, eyes blurry through a mixture of tiredness and tears. You stopped short the second you crossed the last step, seeing Fred and George step in through the portrait hole, your stomach flipping nervously as you anticipated a barrage of insults or horrible pranks, their allegiance turning from you now.

"Fred, Freddie please," you begged, dropping your makeshift bedding to walk towards him, trying to reach out for him. You paused as you saw the redness on the back of his left hand, a clearly fresh punishment, 'I must not break rules'. George intercepts immediately and barges past you, blocking you from getting to Fred as he turns his twin away from you.

"You think you know someone," George mutters as he gently nudges Fred up the stairs, sending you a vicious glare before he walks up after him, once again leaving you alone. Fred didn't even spare a single glance at you, not even to recoil away.

You curled up in a corner armchair as soon as the tears appeared, pathetically dragging the blanket over you and cried until you fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair.

The two weeks that followed were the absolute worst weeks of your life. Umbridge had stripped you of everything you loved in one fell swoop, turned everyone against you and left the place you called home feeling miserable and lonely. You deserved it, you knew that, having ratted them out. You'd antagonised her and now had to live through then consequences, as cruel and twisted as they were.

The glares from everyone you had once called friends hadn't stopped, especially from George, which hurt the most. Fred had outright ignored any effort you'd made to reach out to him, no matter how desperate you'd sounded or how hard you'd tried to make him understand. He didn't care. He believed the lie.

The first week you'd tried to take your meals with the rest of the Gryffindors but it was made abundantly clear to you that you were not permitted nor welcome to join your friends and had been cruelly banished to the end of the table, beside the first years. The second week you'd stopped attending meals at all, not able to push through the shame and embarrassment of being cast away, exiled from your group. Lessons were monotonous and any down time was utterly excruciating as you were left enclosed with the other Gryffindors, namely your ex boyfriend, though no one would make any contact with you. You'd tried to sleep in your dorm but the girls had done nearly everything to prevent you from actually sleeping, talking loudly, setting off whizzbangs inside your curtains and had even transfigured your blanket a few times to varying degrees of horrid things. At the end of the night when you were certain everyone was asleep, usually very late, you'd creep down to the common room and huddle into your uncomfortable chair to sleep, only to be woken mere hours later when the first of the easy risers woke up. Your life was hell.

"There's just something I don't understand," Hermione says as they all stand on the bridge, the golden trio, Ginny and the Twins, all wrapped up in warm clothes and sweaters as they discuss the changes put into place since Umbridge had taken over as Headmistress. Naturally, the conversation had diverted to you, something Fred was entirely displeased about. The group turn to Hermione after her words, intrigued by the change in tone. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before opening them again, as if building the strength to say her next sentence.

"I jinxed the enrolment parchment, for Dumbledore's Army," she admits, not quite meeting the gaze of the group around her. "It was purely a preventative measure, incase we were betrayed by one of our own. The person who disclosed any secrets would be jinxed to break out in spots, to spell out 'sneak' across their forehead, so we knew who the betrayer was. Y/N didn't have that, she never even had a single spot."

"Blimey Hermione," Ron says a little breathlessly, disbelieving she'd have actually gone that far.

"I know," she says a little defensively, "I just can't work out how she got around it!"

"Maybe she wrote her name wrong? Did she know about the jinx?" Harry suggests but Hermione shook her head, at the very same time that Ginny replied.

"I was behind her, I saw her write her name. It was right."

"Maybe the jinx didn't work?" Harry suggests carefully but stops himself when he receives a forceful glare from Hermione at the very notion of her failure.

"What does it matter? She dobbed us in wether or not she's covered in spots!" Ron says rather harshly, leaning against the wooden bannister.

Fred can't listen anymore, completely overwhelmed by the conversation and the thought of you betraying them. He turns and walks off back towards the castle without so much as a word to the others, not even his twin, and ignores their calls of his name as they watch him fade into the distance.

Spotting you sitting alone in the corner of the room when he returns to the common room, he frowns to himself. He'd known you since the moment you stepped on the Hogwarts express and had loved you for nearly just as long. It was wrong to see you sat alone, so sad and without the usual spark you naturally emitted. Everyone had always been drawn to you, your humour and wit, your dazzling smile, the fact you made everyone aroun you feel comfortable and valued. Too many boys had been drawn to you for his liking but you'd never even given them the time of day, never once wavering in your loyalty to him or ever made him doubt that it was him you wanted. You'd spent years supporting him, helping him and George develop their products, cheering for him loudly at every Quidditch game and had wormed your way into the hearts of every single one of his family members. Secretly, it crushed him to see you so lonely and tired, even if he still felt the sting of your betrayal.

It didn't add up, though he wouldn't disclose this to any of the more angered members of the group, why you would do such a thing. You'd been excited to start the DA, had joined in enthusiastically, kept the secret for so long and most of all you completely despised Umbridge. He couldn't deny that he still loved you, even though he was conflicted with his feelings now, he still held out hope that this would all go away, that there was a reasonable explanation but his anger wouldn't allow him to listen. It killed him to push you away, wanting nothing more than for things to return to normal but he felt a deep sense of betrayal that he couldn't shift.

"Fred?" He heard from behind him, pulling him out of his musings making him realise that he'd been staring at you all this time as he turned towards the person addressing him. Her name was Emery Atkinson, a Gryffindor from the year below that he'd never really acknowledged or spent much time with.

"Yeah?" He replies politely though he couldn't escape the edge of irritation after being pulled away from his thoughts. He watches as the girl giggles as soon as he acknowledges her and tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Oh good I got the right twin!" She giggles, ignorant to the blank look she received from Fred. "I was wondering if you had some canary creams I could buy? My brother loves them and it's his birthday soon. Your inventions are so clever, I don't know how you and George find the time between your studies and Quidditch, it must be exhausting. You're so good as Quidditch, I always cheer you on. Plus your girlfriend, but I heard that you weren't together anymore right?"

Truthfully, Fred had only registered the first half of her speech, tuning out after Canary Creams but his attention had been drawn back at the mention of you. He can't help but feel that little stab of sadness at the mention of you, especially someone referring to you as his girlfriend, or Ex rather. In the back of his mind he wonders if you heard that, from your short distance away, he hoped not.

"I still can't believe it, why would she do that? If I was with you I wouldn't even dream of ruining it." She sounds faux-scandalised and quite frankly, rather bitchy as he reaches out to touch the sleeve of his sweater. Fred doesn't humour her and instead takes half a step back subtly, reaching to scratch the back of his head as a discreet way of getting her off.

"Er, yeah I think we have some creams leftover, I'll send George over with some later, alright?"

"Not you?" She says with a sad little face, trying out her best puppy dog eyes that have absolutely no affect on him.

"George deals with the confectionery," he says a little too quickly; which is a complete lie. "Sorry, I've got somewhere to be but I'll let him know you're interested in buying."

He breaks away, giving her a forced but polite smile and a brief, parting wave but it's awkward and he's inwardly cringing as soon as he puts his hand down. Turning to where you had been sat in the chair, he notices you've disappeared and he is instantly overcome with a wave of guilt. You'd heard it all.

—

The next few days passed in blur for Fred, his mind wandering between what he was doing and thoughts of you, like he couldn't concentrate for more than a minute. He felt so conflicted within himself, made worse by the time spent apart from you, the longing beginning to set in. He'd never really been apart from you for very long, at most only a few weeks during the summer holidays and even then you'd have sent numerous letters by now, keeping in contact as much as you could until you were back beside each other. Now it was just torture, having you so close but so far away and the knowledge that he was the one that had pushed you away only furthered his guilt and internal conflict.

Fred was in a terrible mood, battling his thoughts, surviving on very little sleep and now the threat of her sadistic punishment was the icing on the cake of a really crap day when he and George had been forced to Umbridge's office. Harry had been caught trying to use the floo, to alert the order or escape and had been caught red handed by Umbridge. Each member of the DA had been frogmarched into the office, shoved and restrained by members of the inquisitorial squad and each member looked as uneasy as the next. His stomach turned when he saw Ginny held down by Goyle and he fought to get out of Graham Montegue's hold but it was useless when Umbridge mindlessly cast a spell to subdue him.

Harry was sat in the chair in the centre of the room, the first to be questioned with Umbridge hovering dangerously close to him, her temper boiling over as she speaks frantically in his face.

"You were going to Dumbledore weren't you?" She says, leaning down threateningly in front of Harry.

"No," Harry responds.

"Liar!" She screams back and in a move that shocks each member of the DA, she pulls back her hand and slaps Harry hard around the face, the harsh sound echoing through the otherwise silent room.

She pauses for a moment, simply glaring at Harry until her face twists into a sick, twisted grin as she straightens up and composes herself, each movement carefully thought out as she turns her back to him.

"Very well, you give me no choice Potter," she says with an even cadence, her tone dangerously low. "As this is an issue of Ministry security, you leave me with... no alternative, unless Professor Snape arrives within moments."

Fred feels like he can hardly breathe, the tension and unease in the air so thick that the room feels like it's getting smaller by the second. The unpredictability of the woman before them was alarming, the dangerous undertone of her voice despite her light and breezy tone was almost scarier than his worst nightmare.

"The cruciatus curse ought to loosen your tongue," she says, adjusting her pink jacket.

"That's illegal," Hermione states in outrage but Umbridge hardly flinches. Instead, she reaches out for the photo frame of the minister on her desk and pauses briefly to look at it before turning it over and lying it down flat on the desk, so that Fudge could not see her next move. She straightens herself and extends her wand, only to stop when Snape appears by the door, his eyes fixed to her outstretched wand that was pointed directly at Harry.

"You sent for me Headmistress?"

"Snape, yes," she says, taking a step back and everyone in the room exhales, relaxing only slightly. "The time has come for answers, wether he wants to give them to me or not," she says, her eyes flicking to Harry only briefly.

"Might I suggest against the cruciatus curse this time headmistress," he says evenly and carefully, "the consequences of such an audience might be... disagreeable. In fact I would hesitate in conducting any of the prior disciplinary methods in this instance.""

This time? She'd used the cruciatus curse before? And on a student? Prior disciplinary methods? Fred thinks, did he mean the quill?

"Very well," she says after a moment of pondering, her arm falling to her side as she relents, eyes wandering over the all too familiar Quill that sits proudly on her desk before her gaze shifts back to Snape. "Have you brought the veritaserum?"

"I'm afraid you've used up all my stores, the last of it interrogating Miss y/l/n."

Snape carries on speaking but Fred doesn't hear a single word, blood rushing to his ears as his heart pounds. He feels like he's received a stray bludger straight to the chest, his stomach dropping with fresh shame, sadness and overwhelming guilt.

Suddenly it all made sense. She'd tortured you into giving out the information- the cruciatus curse, veritaserum, what else had she done to you?

He couldn't help but let out a dry sob at the information, sensing everyone's eyes on him at the news. He struggled against the holds with everything in him, needing to fix what he'd broken.

He'd believed them, so quickly, believed that you could have betrayed them like that. The pain you must have felt, the loneliness and the guilt and then after your whole ordeal he had cast you aside, pushed you away and never given you a single chance to explain.

He eventually turned to look at George who looked utterly broken by the news, his regretful inner thoughts so evident upon his face. Each member of the DA looked a mixture of guilty, sheepish and sad, realising how wrong they'd been about you and what they'd done to someone who had once been their friend, someone who had suffered so much for all of them.

The meeting seemed to go abhorrently slowly until Umbridge left with Harry and Hermione on a sort of mission based upon a quickly constructed lie and Fred didn't waste a single moment before turning around on the spot and punching Graham Montegue straight in the face as soon as Umbridge had left. Seizing the momentary upper hand, the remaining members of the DA turned on the inquisitorial squad and fired an array of jinxes and spells at them in order to get away.

"Fred, Go!" George had urged whilst stunning Crabbe, allowing Ginny to step free. Malfoy fought back but he was quickly matched by Angelina who covered for Fred, blocking the exit.

"Go, she needs you!" Angelina shouted as she sent a jinx flying towards Cassius Warrington's smug face.

Fred didn't hang about and immediately ran out of the office and towards the common room where he was praying you'd be. It was quiet on the main staircases, perhaps it seemed much quieter because of the lack of portraits and bare walls but even to the few people Fred passed, he offered no explanation nor cared about what they thought. He needed to find you.

"Y/n!" He said bursting through the portrait hole and scanning the common room for you, checking the chair you'd so often occupied but found nothing except a couple of bewildered faces at his strange outburst.

"Y/n?" He called again, walking up the stairs towards the dormitories but received no reply. In his haste, he accidentally misstepped as he climbed up to the girls dorm and nearly triggered the blocking slide to appease but fortunately managed to regain his balance and stress carefully over the path he'd taken so many times before, the secret message in the steps that allowed him to breach the rules.

He threw open your dormitory door and stopped blankly when he found nothing. Your bed looked like it hadn't been slept in, there was hardly any of your things around the bed and the room. Had he come to the wrong room?

"Fred?" Your voice said shyly from behind him and he whipped around to see you looking up at him hesitantly from near the door, holding a few things in your arms and your robe tied tightly around your chest.

"Y/n," he says with a sigh of relief, moving forwards quickly to reach out to you but once again stopping short as he noticed you visibly flinch at his sudden movement. Suddenly the overwhelming agony of guilt and regret hit him anew and he vowed to slow down, hoping not to scare you away.

"I'm so sorry," he said, voice breaking slightly as he looked at your tired, sullen face and those wide, scared eyes. He'd never seen you look so broken and it killed him.

"I didn't, I don't ," he stutters, dropping to sit on the side of your bed. "You haven't been sleeping here have you?"

There's a minor pause and he wonders if you're actually going to reply to him, if he even deserves it, until you step forward and place your things down onto the bedside table. He watches in silence, noting the large book and a few packaged bandages that slip onto the table as you gingerly take a seat beside him, your feet no longer touching the floor.

"Kind of hard to when you're banished by the rest of your dorm," you reply quietly. He can't detect the tone of your voice, expecting it to be sarcastic or unhappy but it actually sounds flat and completely void of emotion.

"The chair," he realises, "you've been sleeping in that chair?" He's slightly bewildered and profoundly ashamed now, not having clicked until now that you'd been there early in a morning and late in the night, much later than you'd ever typically stayed up before. You shrug and turn your attention away, though you're yet to actually meet his eyes.

He drags a deep breath in through his teeth, resisting the urge to hang his head low on his shoulders.

"Y/n, I am so sorry, I, I don't even have words," he says, stumbling over his words- something so uncharacteristic for him that it briefly startles you. "You didn't deserve this, even if you had told Umbridge about us, no one deserves this. We were all so shocked that it could be you, of all people. We never stopped to think of why," he pauses again, steadying himself. "Snape admitted what she did to you, she tried to use it on Harry but he stopped him."

"But the quill was broken? How could she use it on Harry?" You say, finally looking up with a look of complete confusion.

"What quill?" Fred asks, completely lost himself, "the black quills? I meant the cruciatus curse, she, I mean she, on you, didn't she?"

Your silence says everything and he has to close his eyes and steady his breathing at your silent confirmation.

"What quill?" Fred feels a little bolder now and reaches for you but you pull your arm back and place it in your lap, trying not to wince as you catch the healing scars. "This one?"

He holds out his hand and shows you the faint markings from his punishment, 'I must not break rules' barely visible now. He frowns when you shake your head but don't offer any other explanation. He's frustrated that he's not getting anywhere but it's internal and he knows it's not your fault, he just wishes he could help, or go back in time and fix everything.

"Tell me, please," he says, keeping his eyes locked in the side of your face, trying to urge you to look at him. "What happened in that detention?"

"It doesn't matter," you say quickly, hopping down off the bed and stepping over to your trunk to get a fresh shirt from the laundry pile, knowing it would need changing. "I've got to shower."

You go to turn away but Fred lunges for you and grabs your arm to stop you from leaving, making you cry out in pain as soon as his fingers make contact with the tender skin. As soon as the shock wears off, he frowns, looking down at your arm before looking up to your face, seeing tears falling down your cheeks.

"Please baby, please just tell me," he says, voice breaking as his own tears well up in his eyes.

"She told you about the veritaserum?" You ask, assuming anyway and Fred nods. "Then you know what you need to know."

"No, I don't," he says quickly, trying to think of ways to stop you leaving without hurting you. "She used an unforgivable curse on you! Gave you truth serum, you cried when I touched your arm and you have bandages on your bedside table, please just tell me what happened!"

"Fine," you say, pulling your arm back. "You want to know? She tried to force it out of me, tried to get me to drink the stupid tea but I wouldn't. When that didn't work she pulled out that little stupid quill and wrote anything she wanted all over me. You wanted to know about the bandages? Fine," you said viciously, clawing at the fastening of your robe. Underneath was your once crisp, white shirt that had a considerable amount of red blood staining the sleeve. You didn't stop undressing, all but ripping the buttons away as you fought to show Fred what was underneath.

Bandages littered your forearms, with blood oozing out the sides. Fred's frozen as he looks at the bandages on your body, sick to his stomach already.

"Did you know Snape is a skilled occlumens? I didn't, I do now. So after she was playing with that sadistic little quill, writing whatever she wanted into my skin, he enters my mind and shows me every single fear I've ever had, every nightmare. But I didn't say a word, not a single fucking word. Do you know what it's like to have visions forced into your own mind of your boyfriend dying in front of you repeatedly, over and over until you start to go mad? All whilst your skin is slashed open just to get you to talk? Only it didn't work, so she dropped the quill and picked up her wand. I've never felt closer to death in my life but still so far away from it. But I wouldn't talk. So she forced veritaserum in my mouth and I couldn't stop it, she got what she wanted no matter what I'd fought for. And the best part? They don't heal, not truly. Nothing I do stops it, like a constant reminder of what happened."

"Princess," Fred chokes out, tears streaming down his cheeks, fighting to hold back his sobs at your words.

"No, not princess," you say sternly, emotions all falling from your face. "Not anymore."

"Please, I want to make this right, anything I can do, I want to support you," he says, nearly begging. "I have to make this right, I can't lose you."

"No."

Your voice is harsh and stern, your face expressionless again. "You believed them so easily, you all did. You believed I could do that to you, without hesitation. You didn't let me explain, never even looked at me because you were so certain that I could have done it. I've been exiled, banished and forgotten by all of you I called friends without a single thought. So you and your stupid brother and the rest of Dumbledore's friggin army can go fuck yourselves, it's not my fight anymore."

Fred flinches as the door slams shut behind you and he's left to sob openly, his devastation consuming him. Eventually when he returns to his own dorm, George says nothing upon seeing his twin's stricken face and his curtains fully closing around the bed.

The next morning, Fred has already left the dorm by the time George wakes up and doesn't see him at all around the common room or the hall, though he's not surprised. But when he doesn't show to his lessons, George worries and goes in search for his twin with increasing worry. Eventually, he finds him in the library, pouring over an array of books from the restricted section, most of them about healing spells and anatomy.

"Freddie?"

When Fred looks up with red rimmed eyes and an intense look in his eyes, it's clear to George that Fred hadn't slept. "Whatever it is, let me help."

One week. It took one week of endlessly pouring over book after book until they finally found options.

It's early morning on a Saturday when Fred creeps down to the common room was before the sun has risen, seeing you hunched over in your chair. Angelina had told him that they'd apologised profusely to you and had accepted you back with open arms back to the dormitory but you'd simply walked away and carried on sleeping by the fire, not yet willing to forgive them for the treatment you'd endured.

"Y/n, y/n, wake up," he says quietly, carefully touching your shoulder, trying to avoid anywhere that he had seen bandaged.

"Freddie?" You ask sleepily and his heart soars with hope at the noise, the familiarity of it abs the softness of your voice so heartwarming.

"I have something to show you, me and George," he says lightly, waiting for you to wake up.

"Told you both to get fucked," you mumble, squashing any hope he had, but he perseveres.

"Just this once prince-y/n, please," he says quietly. You open your eyes, seeing him still dressed in his pyjamas, pleading with his eyes and looking so vulnerable that you relent and agree to whatever he had planned. Throwing back the blanket, you surprise a groan at the stiffness in your neck and diligently follow him back up the stairs towards his dorm, accepting his hand as he guides you. Your hand fits perfectly into his, just as it always had.

"Where's Lee?" You say as you walk into the dorm room, seeing only George who gives you a small but timid smile.

"Bunking with Ron," Fred says somewhat vaguely, gesturing for you to sit on his bed. The room looks exactly as you remember albeit slightly less dishevelled than you'd experienced previously, but you don't mention anything. Fred takes a seat beside you and George moves forward, grabbing a book from the chair beside his bed.

"We don't know if this will work," George says.

"But it's better than nothing," Fred finishes, gingerly reaching out for your hand.

"What?"

"The wounds," George says gently, "Fred told me, we just want to make them better. Might not get rid of them completely but it's worth a shot."

"Found this in an old healing book, it's a counter curse for wound healing by curse," Fred says, taking the book from George to show you. "Figured Umbridge's quill must have been cursed so this might work. Please let us help."

All it takes is a nod from you, albeit slightly hesitant but truthfully there was no one you trusted more than the twins, before at least.

You could hardly look them in the eyes as you pulled away the bandages, the vile words etched into your skin by her personal sadistic quill. You heard George inhale at the deepest cut along your inner right forearm but didn't react, knowing it would be shocking to anyone.

"Take my hand, if it hurts too much all you have to do is squeeze and we'll stop, okay baby?"

Biting down on your lip to stifle your cries, you hold Fred's hand tightly as George begins to cast the counter-curse, each of you watching on with rapt attention and slight amazement as the cuts begin to slowly knit together. It was working.

You whimper as he works over the deepest, the same one Fred had accidentally caught the week before and Fred's hand squeezes yours automatically for support.

"You're doing so well sweetheart, it'll be over soon I promise," he says quietly in your ear, comforting you in anyway he could.

After the last cut is sealed, George immediately drops down to sit onto his bed, his concentration and energy depleted from focusing so hard. You can't believe it as you look down at your arms, no longer seeing blood and only able to see the faintest of marks and redness where the wounds had once been. Only then do tears begin to fall from your eyes as you launch yourself towards Fred, throwing your arms around him in appreciation. He steadies himself after a moment of being caught off guard and holds you tightly against him, shushing you gently as you cry. His arms wrap around you so perfectly, so protectively and his smell comforts you like to no other, exactly as you remember.

"You did so well, so well, it's okay baby," he coos into your ear. You pull apart slowly and immediately walk over to George, pulling him into a hug though it's a lot less intimate.

"Thank you both so much," you sniffle.

"You're welcome," they answer at the same time, making you smile.

"We've missed you," George says after a moment. "I'm so sorry for what you went through and for what I said. I should have known it wasn't your fault, you've been my best friend for so long and I'm so ashamed of myself for how easily I believed her over you, that should never have happened."

"And you know how sorry I am," Fred says, walking over to you and kneeling down until he's directly in front of you.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I was an idiot for ever thinking it was you. I know things can't ever go back to how they were before, but I love you so much that I can't lose you. Seeing you hurting almost broke me and I know that you might need time or never see me again but you need to know exactly how I still feel about you."

"It's not just you," you say in reply, heaving out a long breathe, "I pushed people away."

"We deserved it," George says.

"Baby," Fred says gently, getting your attention. "I don't know how to fix this or how to make things better, but I'll do anything. I was an idiot, a complete git but I'll spent the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please say this isn't ruined."

For the first time since the incident, you allow yourself to feel hopeful that things could get better, that Fred could love you again. Sat surrounded by the two people you loved most in the world, you finally felt the love and protection you'd been needing since that awful night.

"I want that," you say quietly, picking at the blanket under your fingers, "I just want things to just go back to normal." You raise your eyes up to Fred's to see him smiling back at you, clearly pleased with your words.

"Well, let's start with this then," he says with a mischievous smirk, leaning towards you painfully slowly as if he's giving you plenty of time to say no or push him away. His soft lips press against yours gently and you can't help but feel a warmth spread all over your body, almost like you were defrosting and returning back to you're usual self. His hand reaches up to cup the side of your jaw and you're certain you can feel a fear hit your cheek, though it doesn't come from you.

The next morning, you walk hand in hand with Fred into the great hall for breakfast and sit right back at the centre of the table with your friends. You assume Fred or George had threatened them not to say anything as everyone around you acts normal, pretending the previous weeks didn't exist, though one by one they all apologised to you, most notably Ron and Harry. Ginny thought you were badass for everything you'd been through, not relenting even though you'd been tortured into eventually revealing the secret. Hermione had apologised so eloquently and thoroughly that you both ended up crying in the common room as she explained about the jinxed parchment and how she'd held out hope that it hadn't been you.

Each person made it up to you in anyway they could, admitting their mistakes and regrets and though you would probably never forget, you chose to forgive.

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[raekensluver]

echoes of loss and love

description: you are haunted by memories of your relationship with fred weasley before his death. you feel like you're stuck in a loop, unable to move on when one day, george tells you fred was going to propose.

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader, platonic!george weasley x fem!reader

contains: angst, mentions of the hogwarts war, fred's canon death, survivors guilt.

song rec: all i want by kodaline- "but if you loved me, why did you leave me?"

w.c: 1.8k

an: to whoever wrote that one fic where george dyes his hair blue because he hates that whenever he looks in the mirror he sees fred- count. your. days. thx !!

the morning air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of fresh dew from the burrow. you sat on the edge of the bed, your feet touching the cold wooden floorboards, feeling the weight of the world press down on your shoulders. your eyes scanned the room, lingering on the frayed curtains and the chipped paint on the walls. the familiarity of it all brought a pang of nostalgia and a deep, unshakeable sadness. you had not slept well, as was the norm these days, plagued by dreams that felt more like echoes of a past life than mere nocturnal imaginings.

george lay sprawled across on his own bed on the other side of the room, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. his face was a portrait of peace, untouched by the burdens that you knew he bore in his waking hours. the sight of him there, so much like fred, yet so painfully different, brought a lump to your throat. you remembered the countless nights you had spent in this very room, sharing laughter and secrets with the two of them until the early hours of the morning. the twins had always been inseparable, a unit, a force of nature that could not be divided. but now, fred's side of the room remained cold and untouched aside from your movement, a stark reminder of the gaping hole left in both your heart and the fabric of the weasley family.

you stood up slowly, the floorboards creaking beneath you, and padded over to the window. outside, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft, warm light on the dew-kissed garden. the leaves on the trees were tinged with gold and red, whispering of the approaching autumn. it was a beautiful scene, but the beauty felt hollow, as if the vibrancy of color was only a cruel mockery of the emptiness you felt within. you leaned against the windowsill, your eyes tracing the patterns the light made on the floor.

the guilt was a heavy, constant presence, like a shadow that never left your side. you had been there when the wall exploded, when fred's life had been so brutally extinguished. the sound of the blast still reverberated in your ears, a never-ending echo of the moment that had torn your world apart. his laughter, his warmth, his very essence had been wrenched away from you, leaving nothing but cold, empty space. you could still see the look in his eyes, the flash of surprise and pain, the way his hand had reached out for you as if he could somehow pull you into safety.

for a while, george had been cold towards you, his grief a tangible barrier that you couldn't breach. every time you looked at him, you saw the accusation in his gaze, the unspoken question of why it had been fred and not you. you understood his anger, his pain, but it didn't make the silent treatment any easier to bear. the burden of guilt grew heavier with each passing day, each missed opportunity to apologize or explain, to somehow make it right. but what could you say? there were no words to justify the cruel hand of fate that had taken fred from you both.

you decided to make some tea, hoping the warmth would soothe your soul. the kitchen was quiet, the embers of the fireplace glowing dimly. as you filled the kettle with water, the rusty pipes groaned, reminding you of the burrow's age. the weasley's had lived here for generations, and it was a place filled with love and laughter. now, it felt like a museum dedicated to a happiness that no longer existed. you placed the kettle on the stove and watched as the flame grew, the heat slowly spreading through the metal.

staring at the teapot, you waited for the water to boil. it was a simple task, one that had been done countless times before in this very kitchen. but today, it felt like a monumental effort. every second that ticked by was a reminder of the moments you had lost with fred. the teapot began to whistle, a shrill sound that pierced the silence. you jumped, startled, and hastily turned off the stove. the whistle died down, leaving only the soft hiss of the cooling water. you paused, your hand hovering over the teapot, your eyes welling up with unshed tears. fred had always liked his tea with three lumps of sugar and a dash of milk, just like his mother made it. the thought brought a bittersweet smile to your face.

the door to the kitchen creaked open, and you looked up to see george standing there, his hair a wild mess from sleep. his eyes searched yours, a silent question hanging in the air. for a moment, you felt like you were seeing fred in his place, the same look of curiosity and concern mirrored in his twin's gaze. your heart clenched, and you had to look away, focusing instead on the steaming kettle. "can't sleep?" he asked, his voice thick with the grogginess of early morning.

you nodded, your voice a whisper. "same dreams."

george's eyes softened with understanding. he padded over to the table and pulled out a chair, the legs scraping against the floor. "i know," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "it's like he's still here, but every time i turn around, he's gone again."

you filled two cups with tea, the warmth of the porcelain comforting against your cold palms. you slid one across the table to him, and he took it with a nod of thanks. "it's just… i can't shake the feeling that i should have done more," you confessed, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. "i should have been able to save him."

george was silent for a long moment, the only sound the clinking of spoons against the sides of the cups as you both added sugar and stirred. "you can't blame yourself," he said finally, his voice gentle. "none of us could have seen that coming. it was war, and fred knew the risks."

you took a sip of your tea, the warmth spreading through you like a comforting embrace. "i know that," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "but it doesn't make it any easier."

george reached across the table and took your hand in his, his grip firm and reassuring. his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand, a silent gesture of comfort. his eyes met yours, and for the first time since the battle, you saw something other than pain and anger in them. there was a glimmer of understanding, a bridge built from shared grief. "you know," he began, his voice low and tentative, "after it happened, i kept thinking about all the times we argued, all the little things that didn't seem to matter. i wish i could take them all back, tell him how much he meant to me."

you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. "i do too. i wish i could tell him how much i loved him."

george took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "you know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "fred had plans for after the war."

your heart skipped a beat. plans? what could fred have planned that you didn't know about? "what do you mean?"

george's gaze fell to the table, his thumb still moving in soothing circles on your hand. "he had a ring," he said, his voice barely audible. "he was going to ask you to marry him, after the war. said he couldn't wait any longer to make it official."

a cold shock washed over you. a ring? fred had wanted to marry you? you felt your breath catch in your throat, the reality of what you had lost sinking in even deeper. "what happened to it?" you managed to ask, your voice shaking.

george's eyes searched yours, and then he got up from his chair, leaving his hand on the table. "he hid it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "he didn't want to carry it with him in case…" his voice trailed off, and you could see the pain etched on his face. he disappeared from the room, leaving you sitting there, the cup of tea cooling in your hand, the words echoing in the silence.

a few moments later, he returned, a small, worn box in his hand. he placed it on the table between you, and you could see his hand tremble as he pushed it towards you. you picked it up, your heart racing. the box was old, the leather cracked and faded, the clasp stiff with disuse. you opened it, and there, nestled in the velvet, was the ring. it was a simple band of gold, with an intricate knot design, the kind that fred had always loved. a small diamond glinted in the early morning light, winking at you like a teardrop frozen in time.

you slid the ring onto your finger, and it fit perfectly, as if it had been made just for you. it was a strange sensation, a warmth that seemed to seep into your very soul, a final gift from fred that you hadn't expected. the weight of it felt right, like a piece of him that you could hold onto forever. you looked up at george, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and hope. "he picked it out himself, " he said, his voice thick with emotion. "he wanted you to know that you were it for him."

you didn't know what to say, so you just sat there, staring at the ring, feeling the warmth of fred's love through the metal. the silence stretched between you, filled with a thousand unspoken words. the sun was now fully up, casting a soft glow through the kitchen window, painting the room in shades of gold and amber. it was a moment that felt both surreal and achingly real, a moment that you knew would be etched into your memory forever.

finally, you found your voice. "thank you," you whispered, your eyes still fixed on the ring. "for telling me. for giving me this."

george nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "you were the best thing that ever happened to him," he said, his voice cracking. "i know he'd want you to have it."

you felt a lump form in your throat, unable to find the words to express your gratitude. instead, you leaned across the table and hugged him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his familiar scent, so much like fred's. it was a bittersweet moment, one that brought both solace and pain.

for a while, you sat there in silence, sipping your tea, the ring feeling like a lifeline to a past you could never quite touch again. but it was a lifeline you were grateful for, a tangible piece of fred that you could hold onto. as you sat with george, you realized that while you would never be able to fill the void left by fred's absence, you had each other. two broken halves of a whole, trying to find a new way to live in a world that had changed irrevocably.

[bitterspoons]

For once, I thought it was me.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Soulmate au where you can hear the songs your soulmate is listening to. Fred asks your best friend—Angelina—to the ball thinking she's his soulmate.

use of y/n

Warnings: Angst and just a lil' fluff

Word Count:

part one / part two coming soon

A/N: of course the first thing I write is a soulmate au 😭—it's fine and I hope you like it.

"Angelina!" Y/n calls, running over to the Gryffindor table—almost tripping over her feet before placing a hand on Angelina's shoulder.

"Yes?" Angelina looked up from her conversation with the Weasley twins and smiled at her best friend. The Great Hall was bustling with noise.

Y/n panted, catching her breath as she fixed her hair. "Sorry—I just—I ran—oh god I'm dying—" Y/n tried to catch her breath before waving her hand at the twins. "Give me a second—continue your conversation..."

Angelina chuckled before turning back to George and Fred. "This is my friend, Y/n." Angelina introduced. "She's in Hufflepuff so I doubt you would've met her."

Y/n waved, stealing some of Angelina's water.

"Why haven't you invited her to some of our parties?" George asked, batting his eyes. "It would've been nice, seeing a pretty face more often."

Angelina rolled her eyes at the flirt, making space next to her for Y/n. "Yeah, I've asked her but she's not a huge fan of social events." She explained. "It's a miracle she's even in the Great Hall—why aren't you with Willow?"

"Oh, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out after Divination. Turns out my detention with Professor Sprout is cancelled!" The Hufflepuff said happily, still a bit red from George's flattering.

"Hell yeah!" Angelina cheered. "I told you she loves you."

Y/n smiled. "Yeah but turning her favorite plant into a pair of heels is pushing the line."

Fred cackled. "Y/n, You did what?!"

In her head, a symphony sounded. Him just saying her name sounded like an orchestra.

Pops of warmths fidgeted around her. She had always had a crush on the Weasley, and she never really knew when it happened. She hasn't told a soul and she never would. It was just— he always seemed so happy. She had made him happy, she made him laugh.

Y/n beamed as she explained how she had gotten too caught up with her conversation with Angelina about what shoes to wear for the Yule Ball, she had completely forgotten about the spell she was casting.

"Little Chéri's a troublemaker huh?" Fred teased, scrunching up his nose.

"Chéri?!" Angelina cackled—not a fan of pet names in the slightest.

George grumbled. "Fred has been learning French so he can impress girls."

Y/n laughed, taking a sip of Angelina's water again. "I think it's cute." She bit the tip of her thumbs, an old habit of hers.

"Ever the hopeless romantic, Y/n." Angelina commented, stealing her drink back.

The four engaged in conversation until a Slytherin tapped on Y/n's shoulder. "Uh—Y/n, I think I have a fitting right now." She said awkwardly, getting glares from the Gryffindors.

"Oh!" Y/n shot up, grabbing the last strawberry off of Angelina's plate before grabbing Angelina's pen—sticking it behind her ear—and running off, dragging the Slytherin with her.

"Hey!" Angelina protested, grumbling as she bit into her toast.

"What was that about?" Fred asked, battling Ron for the last corndog.

"Huh? Oh—Y/n and I are helping organise the Ball." Angelina explained, not seeing how Fred watched her run her fingers through her hair as she grabbed another pen to do her Potions Homework. "She's helping make and tailor people's outfits."

"Y/n?" Hermione clarified, popping into the conversation. "She's ridiculously talented, she made the dress I'm wearing!"

"She made adjustments on mine!" Angelina looked at Hermione. "I didn't like how bland my dress was, so she helped bedazzled it."

"Do you think she can fix Fred's dress?" George asked, earning a punch from Fred. "Ow! No seriously though, his tie is all wonky and his pants go way past his feet. Poor bloke's gonna trip!"

Angelina laughed, packing her stuff away and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Find out yourself! I have to go check up on the Frog Choir."

Just a couple minutes later, Fred heard oddly croaky choruses from his soulmate.

●●●

Fred was trying to go the sleep that night, but all he could hear was stupid music.

When he couldn't decipher whether he was hearing it through his soulmate or if he was hearing it in the common room, he shoved his slippers on and slowly went down stairs.

As he peeked his head around the corner, he saw Angelina dancing with somebody—a CD player in the background as they laughed.

It was the same music playing in his head...Is Angelina—actually his soulmate?

He watched Angelina dance with her friend, practicing their dance for the ball before slowly going back upstairs.

Y/n and Angelina fell the floor in a heap, almost crying of laughter as Angelina stepped on Y/n's foot and then went crashing to the floor.

"So, are you planning on asking your mystery crush to the ball?" Angelina asked, rolling onto her stomach and popping the CD out.

Angelina didn't have a clue about her crush on one of the Weasley twins. Y/n refused to tell her, but she did give vague details about why she liked him so much.

"You think I have time for that?" Y/n questioned, brushing her hair. "Even if I did have the time to ask him, he's probably not even my soulmate."

"Who cares?" Angelina asked, exasperated.

Angelina was one of the people who couldn't hear music from their soulmate, it happened more than you'd think—about as common as dyslexia.

Angelina didn't give two fucks about whether the person she was dating was her soulmate, she tended to do whatever she wanted.

"Well—my soulmate is pretty cool too." Y/n protested.

"Well obviously!" Angelina retorted. "They has to be good enough for our Y/n"

"Oh stop it." Y/n laughed, throwing her hairbrush at Angelina. "I won't have time to ask someone and besides, I think he likes someone else." Y/n looked down, fiddling at the edge of her pink pyjamas.

"Your soulmate or your crush?"

"Maybe both!"

●●●

Fred woke up early today, mostly because he couldn't sleep. I mean, he just found his soulmate! This is the moment that everybody waits for, and it finally happened!

Fred was utterly in love with whoever his soulmate was. The two soulmates have sang duets with each other since they could talk—never making any action to try and find each other but Fred would be lying if he said he hadn't blasted music in his ears just to see if someone in the Great Hall would react.

His soulmate was constantly listening to music and singing songs, it comforted him whenever he heard it—especially since he's heard it since he was little.

And it was Angelina, a girl he was been trying not to crush on for ages.

Fred walked down the stairs, almost laughing when he saw Angelina.

Angelina and Y/n were completely passed out on the common room couches, paper sprawled out as they were doing a history of magic essay.

Fred shook Angelina awake. "Angie...Angie!"

Angelina fell off the bed. "What?"

Fred grinned. "I just thought you might wanna head to bed before the rest of the house wakes up."

Angelina rubbed her eyes before looking around—seeing essay papers, pens and her best friend, still sleeping as she sleepily held the tip of her thumb in her mouth and lulled herself asleep. "What time is it?"

"You have a little less than three hours before everybody else wakes up."

Angelina sighed, getting up and separating their papers and pens. "Hey, Fred?"

"Yeah?" He said hopefully.

"Can you do me a favour?"

Angelina handed him a messenger bag with little bows and gold chains decorating it, he took it without question as she continued.

"Do you think you could get Y/n to her common room? This is.. um This is the longest she's slept for a while and I don't know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room."

Fred thought for a moment—but who was he to deny his soulmate? After all, getting into the Hufflepuff dorms were easy—having learned the ins and outs of practically the whole school.

So Fred slung the bag across his shoulder and walked over to Y/n, still sleeping peacefully.

"Thank you!" Angelina grabbed her own supplies and started going up stairs. "You're the best!" She called. "I'll get you a tailoring with her today! Is dinner alright?"

Fred nodded, slowly picked Y/n up, putting her on the couch so he could give her a piggy back ride to her common room. "Hold on..."

Almost as if her sleeping body could hear it, Y/n's body tensed up, making it easier for Fred to carry.

So Fred walked out of the Gryffindor dormitories and started walking in the halls to go to the Hufflepuff common room.

The sun had barely risen, shining dull lights into the hallway and Fred felt Y/n shift in her sleep—ignoring how his skin fluttered as her breath rolled on top of it.

Fred almost stopped walking as Y/n shifted once more, making a small whimper, trying to pull her hand closer to her face.

"Chéri, if you move your hand, you're gonna fall—okay?" Fred said softly, adjusting his grip on her legs, making sure she wouldn't slip.

Y/n hummed in response, tucking her head on Fred's shoulder as he kept on walking.

Fred was halfway to the common room—walking slowly as to not wake up Y/n when he froze.

Having her thumb clasped between her fingers around Fred's chest, supporting her upper body weight—Fred felt her head twitching, needing something to soothe her to sleep.

Not wanting to have to explain the situation to the sleeping girl or disappoint Angelina—Fred adjusted the girl, now giving her a piggy-front, letting Y/n head sit comfortably against his neck.

Fred debated checking whether his face was on fire when the sleeping girl began to press little kisses on his neck, trying to substitute something for her thumb.

Fred continued walking, but why was he so flustered?

Maybe it’s his soulmate’s best friend.

What was her name again? Y/n?

Fred knocked on the Hufflepuff dorm door in the tune of Helga Hufflepuff. Before walking in and taking the stairs to the girl’s dormitory.

Trying not to feel awkward, he searched the dorm labels until he saw it.

______________

Girls Dorm #207

- Susan Bones

- Lia Diggory

- Y/n L/n

______________

Praising Merlin that she didn’t have too many roommates— He knocked on the door a few times, jumping up again to make sure Y/n didn’t slip.

"Hello?" A small voice asked, a very tired red head opened the door.

Fred gave an award smile. "I have a delivery?"

The girl smiled before letting him in and pointing at the empty bed and messed up desk.

Feed walked over, clutching on to Y/n as he quickly flipped the blanket open and tucked her instead. Y/n immediately latched onto the blankets.

Fred smiled before looking at her desk—tons of dress designs a long with tons of reminders everywhere when a certain one caught his eyes.

The Weasley Twins Inspired Dress

Curious, he picked up the sketch to see that she managed to make a confetti canon dress, inspired by that time he and George covered the Slytherin team in confetti right before a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.

"I think you're cute together," Susan whispered bashfully, her cheeks pink.

"Oh no," her face fell when Fred denied it. "I already found my soulmate today."

"Oh I'm sorry." Susan apologised, combing her hair. "I just thought your h—never mind." She began to point at her neck before waving it off. "I assume you know how to take care of it?"

"Yeah! I'm planning on asking her to the yule ball!" Fred said, not having any idea what Susan was talking about.

"What? Ya know what—" Susan dug through her make up bag before grabbing Fred's arm and swatching some concealer shades. "You're lucky, you're my winter shade." Susan tossed Fred a concealer wand before shooing him out. "Bye!"

Holding onto the concealer, extremely confused, Fred walked back to him common room before going into the bathroom.

"Shit." Fred vocalised, realising why Susan Bones has thrown him concealer.

A light hickey lay on the side of his neck where Y/n had been.

Fred spent the next two hours trying to figure out how concealer worked.

He didn't understand it—instead opting for a scarf instead to cover up the blotchy disaster he created on his neck.

●●●

Y/n genuinely didn't question why she woke up in her bed and more concerned on her planner—you could see her running up and down the halls all day.

"Professor Moody, may I borrow Ron Weasley please?"

Ron showed her his suit for the ball. "Never mind, you're beyond help. Professor Moody, you can have him back." Y/n said, scribbling something out in her planner.

Taking the stairs, Y/n just started walking—flipping to the back of her planner to edit some sketches and ideas for dresses—not noticing the stair cases changing directions.

Walking up and down and sideways along the halls, Y/n kept walking until she bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" She said automatically only to be shushed by two voices. "Huh—?"

""SHH!" Y/n looked at the two Weasley twins.

"Why?" She asked, looking around to see nobody.

"I don' know," Fred admitted.

"We're skipping, so I assume we have to be quiet." George finished.

The Hufflepuff scoffed. "I'm not skipping. I did all my work in advance so I could focus of the dress making." She looked down at the planner. "And on that note—you have a appointment with me in two minutes. We can't be late!"

"Does that mean you have the answers?" Fred asked as he got dragged away.

"We can discuss answers after we're on time for our session."

"If it's our appointment, how can we be late?"

Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “It’s fine we’re almost there, Willow’s gonna be upset.”

“Who?”

Y/n dragged Fred near a tree where a small desk, mannequins and color swatches were, Y/n thrust Fred upon a little platform until tree branches began to swing around chaotically.

“Willow! Calm down! This isn’t Ron! This is a different Weasley!” Y/n started yelling.

“Willow? As in the Whomping Willow?!”

“Stop moving!” Y/n snapped, petting the branches. “Willow didn’t like it when your brother nearly killed her with a car. I think she has like— Weasley trauma.”

Fred cackled. “Weasley trauma?” A tree branch slapped the back of his head. “Hey!”

“She’s very sensitive.” Y/n defended. “Speaking of Ron, please tell me your suit isn’t as hideous.”

“Don’t worry— I just have a normal suit… I wasn’t sure if I should’ve brought it so I just wore it—”

“That’s perfect. Mind shrugging off the jacket and scarf?”

Nervously, Fred took off the scarf and jacket, revealing the concealer mess on his neck.

“Oh sweetie, what the hell happened to your neck!” Y/n cooed. "Goodness, let me help you. You're gonna break out... Accio makeup kit!"

"I have every shade under the sun, I'm helping people with their makeup too." Y/n waved her hand down. "Get down, off." Y/n stepped onto the platform as Fred stepped off, facing Y/n.

Y/n took a makeup wipe and cleaned up the spot before taking out a whisk and spinning it on the hickey.

"When did you learn how to hide hickey? Does that even work?" Fred asked, watching the metal kitchen utensil.

"Oh hush, it's common knowledge." Y/n pushed his face away, continuing to whisk. "It helps the blood disperse. Next time, put ice on it before it bruises."

Shade matching and blending it in, Y/n hoped Fred couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest as she finished hiding the red mark. "See? Like it never even happened."

Willow presented a mirror for Fred to see for himself, thank god because that scarf was very itchy.

"Now, how much are we thinking off the tie?" Y/n held up a tape measure and a sharpie, tucking the sharpie behind her ear. "It supposed to be around your belt buckle...Do you feel comfortable with it over here?"

Fred nodded, looking at her in the mirror more than him. Why hadn't he seen her more often? Has she been friends with Angelina for a long time?

"Lovely...okay do you mind if I take this?" Y/n took the colorful tie off Fred and held it up to Willow." Willow, this is Fred's tie." Willow held onto the tie.

"Okay just one second..." Y/n brought out a sheet of brown fabric and a sheet of black fabric and hopped onto the platform with him. She pulled the black one around half of his chest and the brown one around the other half.

"Okay so I think the brown is more flattering on you, I feel like you look paler with the black one—Hey!"

Fred's head started tilting to one side as he imagined Angelina and her hanging out—still in disbelief he had actually found his soulmate.

Y/n grabbed his jaw and moved it so that it faced her. "Sorry, I just need to see—" Y/n furrowed her eyebrows confused as Fred pointed at something in the distance behind her.

Y/n looked behind her only for her jaw to pulled back and facing Fred, pulling the same move she had accidentally done to him. "Touché," She smiled—desperately hoping she wasn't blushing.

"How long have you friends with Angelina?" Fred asked, snapping Y/n out of her mental freakout.

"Oh—uh, since first year. We met on the train." Y/n cast a spell to turn Fred's suit brown. "Yeah that looks better—you looked like you were going to a funeral."

“Then why do I never see you guys hang out?”

Y/n thinks before answering. “I like to keep myself busy, that or I just eat in the kitchen.”

“Why not hang out with Angelina?”

“Uh- Well Alicia and I don’t really get along so I don’t want to make it weird for Angelina. Besides, most of the time Angelina hangs out with me in the kitchen.”

So that’s why Fred never sees Angelina in the Great hall. “Why the kitchen?”

“Because the house elves love me.” Y/n smiled, writing her to do list. “Besides, I like baking.”

Fred stepped off the platform and watched Y/n write. “Do you bake any of the food in the Great Hall?”

“The brownies, but sometimes I also cook the ribs but I like baking more than cooking.”

Fred loves the brownies, he eats them every time they show up on the table.

“Speaking of food… It’s dinner, you better hurry before all the seats are taken.” Y/n starting putting things away and getting out a dress presumingly belonging to her next appointment.

Fred stepped off the small platform, checking his covered hickey once more before starting to turn around. "You aren't going to dinner?"

"Maybe later." She responded quickly, casting a spell on the dress. "Not hungry. " She said briefly. "You can pick up your tie by like tomorrow."

"Alright then, I'll see you around?"

"Sure. Angelina! Can you grab that?" A piece of fabric swirled away in the wind near an approaching Angelina.

Fred walked away, happy with his day and his fitting appointment.

(A/N lmao I have nooooo idea how to end these. Part two could be ready tomorrow or in 3 months, we'll see.)

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

too far

pair: Fred Weasley x reader summery: Fred has always been the king of pranks, but one day he goes a bit too far, and he Fred spends the rest of the day trying to make it up to you with adorable gestures until you can’t help but forgive him.

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It had started out like any other day. You’d gone down to breakfast with Fred, laughing at his usual banter with George, and sharing a few secret smiles across the Gryffindor table. Everything was normal—or so you thought.What you hadn’t known was that Fred had been planning a prank for weeks, something he’d been brewing up in his mischievous mind with George, and unfortunately, today was the day it would unfold.

As you wandered into the Great Hall after your last class of the morning, you didn’t notice anything strange at first. That was, until the entire room went dead silent. You blinked in confusion as heads turned toward you. Whispers started to rise like the rustle of leaves in a storm.

You furrowed your brow, glancing around. "What...?"

That’s when you caught sight of your reflection in one of the windows. Your heart dropped.

Your face was entirely green. Not just a faint tint—no, your entire face was an alarming, bright emerald, as if someone had dipped you in paint. And your hair? Oh, your hair. It was floating above your head, static and wild, sticking out in all directions as though you’d been struck by lightning.

"Oh. My. God." Your voice came out in a strangled whisper.

Laughter erupted, and the students around you couldn’t contain themselves. You could even hear some of the professors trying—and failing—to hold back snickers. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, though it probably wasn’t noticeable under the neon green hue.

This had Fred Weasley written all over it.

You stormed out of the Great Hall, not bothering to look back as the giggles followed you. You could feel your pulse quickening, your anger bubbling up. You loved Fred and knew what you signed up for when you started dating him. But this—this was mortifying. Public humiliation in front of the entire school? It wasn’t just a simple prank. It was just too much.

You headed straight for the common room, desperately trying to calm your breathing. When you reached the dormitory, you stopped at a mirror and tried to undo the spell, but nothing worked. The green was still there, and your hair continued to defy gravity.

That’s when Fred found you.

You didn’t hear him at first, too caught up in your fuming frustration. But then his voice came, soft and sheepish.

“Hey… love.”

You spun around, your eyes narrowed at him. Fred was standing in the doorway with a guilty look on his face. He looked like a puppy who had been caught chewing on shoes.

“Don’t ‘love’ me, Fred Weasley,” you snapped. “This—this is too far!”

“I... I may have overdone it a bit,” Fred admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I thought it would wear off by now, honestly."

“Well, it hasn’t,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “And now I’m green and my hair is a mess! Do you know how embarrassing that was?”

Fred winced, taking a small step forward. “I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t,” you interrupted, giving him your best death glare. “You humiliated me, Fred. In front of everyone.”

He opened his mouth to respond but closed it quickly, looking genuinely remorseful. For a moment, you thought he was going to come up with some cheeky remark, some joke to lighten the mood. But he didn’t. Instead, he just nodded.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

You looked at him, still angry, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes. It softened your heart just a little, but not enough to let him off the hook.

“I’m going to make it up to you,” he added quickly, noticing the flicker in your expression. “I promise.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? And how do you plan to do that?”

Fred’s eyes brightened a bit as if a new idea had sparked in his mind. “Give me a chance. I’ll fix this.”

Without waiting for your response, Fred dashed out of the room, leaving you standing there in confusion. You sighed, still furious, but there was a part of you that was curious—what could Fred possibly do to fix this mess?

Throughout the rest of the day, Fred tried everything.

First, he sent a bouquet of enchanted flowers that followed you around the common room, apologizing on his behalf every few minutes. "Fred is sorry!" they would chime in unison, but that only annoyed you more.

Next, Fred appeared with your favorite sweets, freshly baked chocolate, and your favorite pastries from the kitchens, delivered with a sheepish grin. "I’m still sorry," he said, trying to offer you one. You accepted the pastry, but it didn’t mean you were any less upset.

Later, he charmed your textbooks to dance around you, but you gave him a deadpan look, and he quickly put an end to it.

By dinner, you found yourself back in the Great Hall, still green, still trying to avoid everyone’s gaze. Fred, however, was relentless. He stood by the doorway with a large sign floating above him, reading: Forgive me, Y/N!

As you sat down, your anger had started to melt, but you weren’t quite ready to forgive him yet.

Finally, when you thought the day couldn’t get more exhausting, Fred approached you outside of the common room, where you’d retreated to escape the stares. He wasn’t carrying gifts or pulling any pranks this time. Instead, he held something small in his hand.

“I know I’ve been driving you mad all day,” he said softly, stopping a few feet away from you. "But… I just wanted to give you this."

Curious, you glanced at his hand. It was a small, golden locket in the shape of a star. He opened it to reveal a tiny picture of the two of you together, taken just a few weeks ago. You were both laughing, looking so happy. Your chest tightened.

“I wanted to get you something real. Not to apologize for the prank, but because I care about you, and I never want to hurt you,” he said, his voice sincere. “I’m really sorry.”

You blinked, taken aback. This wasn’t like Fred—he was always goofy, always trying to make light of things. But here he was, looking so genuinely sorry that it made your heart swell.

For the first time all day, you smiled. “You really went all out for this apology, huh?”

Fred’s face lit up at your words. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

You sighed, pretending to think about it. “Well… I suppose I can’t stay mad forever.”

Fred grinned and closed the distance between you, pulling you into a tight hug. You could feel the tension melt away as his arms wrapped around you, warm and comforting. “Thank Merlin. I don’t think I could’ve come up with any more grand gestures.”

“I think you’re done for the day,” you chuckled, resting your head on his chest. And in that moment, you forgot all about your green face and wild hair. Because Fred’s embrace was more than enough to make up for the prank, and somehow, you knew you’d always fall for this ridiculous prankster.

[kisses-for-you]

explosion - f. weasley

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: during the battle of hogwarts, you get injured and fred rushes to help. w/c: 1.8k

The battle raged like a storm around you, shaking the ancient stones of the castle to their core. Spells streaked through the air in every color imaginable, illuminating the darkened halls as you, Fred, George, and Percy fought side by side to hold one of the castle's passageways.

Fred stood close to you, his fiery hair glinting in the flickering light of the spells which were whizzing through the air in every direction. He was sweating and breathing hard, but his bravery hadn't faltered.

"Fancy a bit of adventure, love?" he teased, sending a Death Eater crashing into the far wall with a well-placed spell.

"Adventure? More like absolute chaos," you retorted, firing another spell that shattered a chunk of the ceiling, blocking another Death Eater's path. "You Weasleys have the strangest idea of a good time!"

"That's why you love me," Fred shot back, deflecting a Killing Curse with a quick shield charm.

Before you could reply, George chimed in. "Oi, save the flirting for later! Some of us are trying to survive over here!"

Percy, ever the voice of reason - or annoyance, depending on the moment - scowled as he launched another Expelliarmus. "Focus, all of you! We need to hold this position at all costs!"

The Death Eaters were relentless, forcing you all to retreat step by step. But you held your ground, firing spell after spell alongside the brothers. It felt like you were making progress - until the explosion.

The blast came out of nowhere, deafening and blinding. One moment you were standing shoulder to shoulder with Fred; the next, you were hurled backward by the force of the explosion. You hit the ground hard and the world went dark for a moment.

"Y/N!" Fred's voice pierced the haze, raw and panicked. He stumbled through the rubble, the light from his wand flickering wildly as he searched for you.

His heart stopped when he found you crumpled on the floor, your body motionless. Blood stained the front of your robes, and your wand lay just out of reach. For a moment, the chaos around him ceased to exist.

"Y/N!" he dropped to his knees beside you, shaking your shoulder gently. "No. No, no, no." His hands hovered over you, too afraid to touch you in case you were truly gone.

Tears blurred his vision as he cupped your face in his trembling hands. "Come on, love. Don't do this to me. Please, wake up." His voice cracked, and a sob tore from his throat.

George's voice called out from somewhere behind him. "Fred! What are you-" He froze when he saw you. "Bloody hell. Is she..?"

"She's not!" Fred barked, his voice filled with equal parts fury and despair. "She's not." He pressed his forehead to yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You're stronger than this. You don't get to leave me. You hear me?"

Just as Fred was about to lose all hope, you stirred. When you came to, your ears were ringing, and dust filled the air. Your vision spun as the taste of copper filled your mouth. A weak groan escaped your lips, and your eyes fluttered open. "Fred...?" Your voice was barely audible, but it was enough.

Fred let out a choked laugh, tears streaming down his face as he cradled you close, careful of the wound that appeared to be on your side. "You're alive. Merlin, you're alive." He pressed a desperate kiss to your forehead, his hands moving to check your wound.

"Don't... cry," you whispered, managing a faint smile despite the pain.

"Too late for that, love," Fred replied, his voice still shaking. "I thought I'd lost you. You scared me half to death, you know that?"

You were about to respond but another volley of spells exploded nearby, forcing Fred to shield your body with his own. "George! Percy!" he yelled over his shoulder. "I need cover!"

George was already there but Percy wasn't so he fought his way toward you, spells flying in all directions. George crouched beside Fred, his expression grim as he took in your condition.

"We need to get her out of here," George said firmly. "She's losing too much blood."

"I know that!" Fred snapped, his voice raw. "But if we leave this passageway undefended-"

"We'll handle it," Percy interrupted, his tone unusually gentle. "Fred, get her to safety. That's an order."

Fred hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. He slipped an arm under your shoulders and another under your knees, lifting you as if you weighed nothing.

"You're not leaving me, are you?" you murmured, clinging weakly to his shirt.

"Never," he said fiercely.

As Fred carried you through the crumbling halls, his anger simmered just beneath the surface. Every injured student or fallen friend he passed seemed to deepen the fire in his eyes.

"You're going to be okay," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "You're going to be fine. I'm not letting them take you from me."

When you reached the Great Hall, now transformed into a makeshift hospital, Madam Pomfrey rushed to meet you. Fred laid you gently on one of the hastily arranged cots as Madam Pomfrey immediately began assessing your injuries. Her expression was grave but determined.

"Severe blood loss and internal injuries," she muttered, her wand glowing as she waved it over your body. "Mr. Weasley, please, step back. I need space to work."

Fred hovered nearby, his fists clenched and jaw tight. "She's going to be alright, isn't she?" His voice cracked despite his attempt to sound strong.

Madam Pomfrey didn't look up, her focus solely on you. "I'll do everything I can. Now let me concentrate."

Fred turned away, pacing like a caged lion. George caught up moments later, blood smeared on his cheek and a cut above his eyebrow.

"How is she?" George asked quietly, placing a hand on Fred's shoulder.

Fred didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on you. "She has to make it," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't lose her, George. Not her."

George squeezed his shoulder. "She's a fighter. She'll pull through. You've just got to keep believing in her."

Fred paced the Great Hall as the sounds of the battle outside seeped through the walls - distant explosions, cries, and the eerie silence that followed each fallen fighter. He couldn't focus on anything but you.

Madam Pomfrey worked tirelessly, and George stayed by Fred's side, watching his brother struggle to keep his emotions in check. "You need to stay strong," George said, his voice firm but kind. "For her. She's going to need you when she wakes up."

Fred stopped pacing, turning to his twin. "She took the hit meant for me, George." His voice broke. "I should be the one lying there. Not her."

"Don't do this to yourself," George said sharply. "She'd throttle you for even thinking that. And you know it."

Fred was about to respond when your faint voice cut through the air. "Fred...?"

He froze. Then he was by your side in an instant, dropping to his knees next to you. Your eyes fluttered open, glassy with pain but alive. Relief washed over him, so intense it left him momentarily speechless.

"Don't look so grim," you rasped, managing a faint smile. "You look awful."

Fred laughed, though it sounded more like a sob. He brushed a hand through your hair, careful not to touch the blood-stained bandages. "You scared the life out of me, love. Don't ever do that again."

"Not exactly my choice," you murmured, grimacing as you shifted slightly. "What's the situation? The passageway?"

"Forget the passageway," Fred said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're what matters right now. Percy is holding it down."

"You left him?" you whispered, your brow furrowing. "Fred, you can't-"

"I can, and I did," Fred interrupted, gripping your hand tightly. "He ordered me to get you to safety. And I'd make the same choice a thousand times over."

You squeezed Fred's hand weakly, your fingers barely wrapping around his. "Stubborn as ever," you murmured, your voice laced with pain but also a faint teasing tone. "Guess that's why I love you."

Fred's face softened, his usual mischievous grin flickering to life despite the situation. "Good thing, too, because you're stuck with me."

George, standing nearby, crossed his arms and smirked. "Oh, don't worry, Y/N. He's been planning a whole dramatic scene for when you woke up. You know how he is - loves a good audience."

Fred shot George a glare, though it lacked any real venom. "Not the time, George."

Madam Pomfrey, who had been working with relentless focus, finally stepped back, wiping her hands on her robes. "She'll live," she said briskly. "But she'll need rest. No running about casting spells for a while, understood?"

Fred exhaled a breath he didn't realise he was holding. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at him. "Thank me by keeping her still. And don't let her charm her way out of recovery. I know how she is." She glanced at you knowingly before bustling off to tend to the next patient.

Fred turned back to you, his hand still clutching yours. "Hear that, love? You're under strict orders to lie still and let me take care of you for once."

You gave him a weak smile, your eyelids drooping. "Just for a bit. Then back to saving more lives."

Fred leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You've already saved mine," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

George cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. "Alright, lovebirds, don't go getting all sappy. There's still a war on, in case you've forgotten."

Fred shot him a tired but grateful look. "Go on, then. I'll catch up once she's settled."

"Don't take too long," George said, his tone unusually serious. "We need every wand out there."

As George disappeared back into the fray, Fred sat beside you, his fingers brushing over yours in a soothing rhythm. "You're my priority now," he said firmly. "They'll manage out there. But I'm not leaving your side until you're safe."

"Fred," you whispered, your voice stronger now, though still strained. "I'll be okay. You need to fight. The castle needs you. They need you."

Fred shook his head, his expression unyielding. "They'll have to manage without me for a while. Because I'm not taking my eyes off you until I know you're out of danger."

"Alright," you murmured, your fingers curling around his. "But promise me... you'll stay safe, too."

Fred leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I promise. Now get some rest, love. We'll get through this. Together."

H.P. masterlist

[dracomalfoy7]

New Heights

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader 

Summary: Y/N is a year older than Fred and after not seeing him all summer Fred’s growth spurt becomes…a surprise.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Warnings: Fluff, Swearingish?

A/N: Been back on Harry Potter TikTok and there are some good POV’s so I'm writing them for you guys ;) gif isn't mine. PS. My Request are open!.

You have always been close with the Weasley family. Your mom was best friends with Molly, so your summers were practically spent at the Burrow. You loved the chaos of it all—Percy with his nose in a book, Fred and George constantly trying to out-prank each other, Ginny tagging along with the boys, and Ron being the easy target of his older brothers' tricks. But it was Percy you were closest to. Only a year younger than him, you and Percy shared a unique bond. While everyone else was wild and adventurous, the two of you spent countless hours with him reading and you flying on your broom. Of course, you both loved to scheme against Fred and George whenever the opportunity arose.

When you finally got your letter to Hogwarts, you were ecstatic. Percy was already there, and you couldn’t wait to be sorted into Gryffindor and spend your school days together just like you had spent your summers. That didn’t happen, though. The Sorting Hat placed you in Slytherin. You were devastated at first, but it didn’t take long to realize that being in different houses didn’t change anything. You still spent every free moment with Percy, and more often than not, that meant time with his family as well.

That was how it had always been—until this past summer. When you were offered a spot in the exclusive quidditch camp. Though the decision wasn’t easy, Percy, being the ever-logical best friend he was, insisted you take the opportunity. "We'll always be here," he'd said. "But this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance."

And so, you went. The summer flew by in a whirlwind of practices, matches, and drills. You barely had time to write home, and when you returned to Hogwarts, it felt like you'd been gone for ages.

Percy greeted you at the train station with a tight hug, rambling on about his summer adventures. "Penelope Clearwater and I spent a lot of time together," he said with a small blush. You smiled, happy that Percy had found someone to share his time with. Then he continued, telling you all about the pranks Fred and George had pulled on Ron, and how Ginny had grown more into her own.

As the two of you walked into the Great Hall, you couldn't help but notice how different it felt coming back. Percy steered you towards the Gryffindor table where the rest of the Weasleys were sitting. Your heart lifted when you saw them—Ginny, Ron, George, Fred. They stood up to greet you, and you smiled warmly at them.

But then your gaze landed on Fred.

He turned to face you, and you froze for a moment, not believing your eyes. The Fred Weasley you had last seen before summer had changed—dramatically.

He had grown. A lot.

Fred Weasley turned toward you and stood up. The last time you'd seen him, he had been your typical gangly teenage boy, all limbs and grins. But now... well, now he was towering over your 5’3" frame. His shoulders had broadened over the summer, his face had lost its boyish roundness, and there was a new confidence about him that made your stomach flip unexpectedly.

"Y/N!" Fred grinned down at you, his voice a bit deeper than you remembered too. He enveloped you in a tight, friendly hug, the warmth of him surrounding you in a way that was strangely comforting and yet disorienting all at once.

"You’re taller," was the first thing you said when he pulled away, still looking up at him in disbelief.

Fred’s grin widened, mischief flickering in his eyes. "Noticed, did you?"

George piped up from behind him, laughing. "Fred n' I had a bit of a growth spurt, haven’t we? Over the summer, we especially him shot up like a bloody tree."

"Yeah, had a bit of a growth spurt," Fred said casually, though the amusement in his eyes suggested he was reveling in your reaction. "Quidditch does that to you."

"Quidditch?" you echoed, still staring up at him in disbelief.

"Yeah, been practicing loads this summer," Fred explained, crossing his arms over his chest. "George and I are aiming for professional teams once we’re done here."

You nodded, but your thoughts were still swirling. How had Fred changed so much in just one summer? It wasn’t just the height or the broader shoulders; there was something different about him. He seemed more... grown up.

"Y/N, you’re staring," Percy’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see him smirking at you, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Heat flooded your face. "I am not!" you protested, but Percy raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

Fred laughed, the sound deep and warm, and your stomach did another unexpected flip. "It’s alright, Y/N. You can stare all you want. I don't mind."

You felt a flutter of surprise, one you hadn’t expected. This wasn’t the Fred Weasley you remembered—this was someone else entirely.

Your brain tried to catch up with the change, but it was hard to shake the image of the Fred you’d known before. The one you’d spent years pranking, teasing, and playfully bickering with. You glanced back at Percy, who just gave you a knowing smirk. "It’s been quite the adjustment," Percy said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You turned back to Fred, and he winked at you. "Still shorter than you in spirit, though."

You found yourself laughing, but there was a nervous edge to it. What was this? Why did you suddenly feel…different around him? You’d known Fred since you were kids. You’d never felt this way before, not even a little. But now, standing in front of him, it was like someone had flipped a switch inside you.

"I suppose I’ll have to get used to looking up at you now," you said, trying to shake off the odd feeling.

Fred raised an eyebrow, his grin never faltering. "You’ll manage. If not, I’m happy to carry you around." He winked again, and this time, you felt your cheeks heat up.

Merlin, this was going to be a long year.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, but Fred's new height and presence stayed in the back of your mind. You tried to act normal—laughing with the others, catching up on everything you’d missed. But every time Fred spoke or laughed, you found yourself glancing his way, your heart giving a little lurch each time.

Later that evening, as you sat in the common room with Percy, you couldn’t help but bring it up.

"Did Fred always…well, has he always been…?"

"Tall?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. "Not until this summer. Why?"

You shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to explain it. "It’s just…different. He seems different."

Percy smiled knowingly. "You’re not the only one who's noticed. Ginny mentioned it too. The twins have always been a bit of prats, but now they got the looks to match."

You sighed, sinking deeper into the chair. "It’s just weird, I guess. I mean, I’ve known him forever, and now suddenly—"

"You fancy him," Percy finished, a teasing grin on his face.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. "No, I don’t! I just…it’s weird, that’s all."

Percy chuckled. "Sure, whatever you say."

But as the days passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling. Fred’s growth spurt wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Something between you had shifted too. He was still the same mischievous, fun-loving prankster, but now, there was something else—a tension that hadn’t been there before.

You found yourself seeking him out more than usual, joining in on his and George’s pranks, laughing at his jokes just a little too hard. And Fred? Well, he didn’t seem to mind the extra attention. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it.

One evening, as you sat by the fireplace in the common room, Fred flopped down next to you, his long legs stretching out in front of him. He nudged your shoulder playfully. "You’ve been quiet today. Everything alright?"

You glanced at him, your heart doing that stupid lurching thing again. "Yeah, just…tired, I guess."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "You? Tired? Never thought I’d see the day."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile. "Even I get tired sometimes."

He leaned back, resting his arm on the back of the couch behind you. "You know, if you ever need a break from Percy’s study marathons, George and I could use some help with a new prank we’re working on."

You tilted your head, curious. "What kind of prank?"

Fred’s grin turned devilish. "Oh, you’ll see. But it involves a lot of stink pellets and a certain Slytherin prefect."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You two are going to get expelled one of these days."

"Maybe," Fred said with a shrug. "But it’d be worth it."

There was a pause, and then Fred turned to you, his expression softening just a bit. "It’s good to have you back, Y/N. Summer wasn’t the same without you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you looked down at your hands. "Yeah, it’s good to be back."

Fred nudged you again, this time more gently. "Don’t go running off to another Quidditch camp next summer, alright? We missed you."

You looked up at him, your breath catching slightly at the sincerity in his voice. "I missed you too, Fred."

And there it was—that stupid fluttery feeling again.

This was going to be a long, complicated year.

The first few weeks back at school were a blur of classes, quidditch practice, and catching up with friends. You were eager to get back into the rhythm of things, but you couldn’t shake the odd feeling that had settled in your chest since you’d seen Fred again. He was still the same Fred, still cracking jokes and pulling pranks with George, but now you found yourself noticing little things about him that you hadn’t before. The way his smile seemed to linger on you just a little longer than necessary, the way he always found a reason to sit next to you in the common room, the way your heart skipped a beat whenever his arm brushed against yours.

It was driving you crazy.

One evening, after quidditch practice, you found yourself heading back to the common room, only to be intercepted by Fred in the corridor. He grinned, blocking your path with an outstretched arm.

"Y/N, there you are," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me."

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. "Avoiding you? Why would I do that?"

Fred shrugged, leaning casually against the wall. "Dunno. Just seems like you’ve been... distracted lately. Didn’t think my growth spurt would have that much of an effect on you."

Your cheeks flamed. "I—what? That’s ridiculous, Fred. I’m not—"

He cut you off with a laugh, stepping closer. "Relax, Y/N. I’m just messing with you."

You huffed, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing in your chest. "You’re always messing with me, Weasley."

Fred’s grin softened into something that looked almost... fond. "Yeah, well, that’s what I do best, isn’t it?"

You couldn’t argue with that. Fred had always been a tease, always finding ways to get under your skin. But now, it felt different. Now, his teasing sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and you weren’t sure how to handle it.

"You’re acting weird," you muttered, trying to avoid his gaze.

"Weird?" Fred repeated, feigning offense. "Me? Never."

You rolled your eyes, but before you could say anything else, Fred reached out and gently tugged on a strand of your hair. "Come on, Y/N," he said, his voice lower now, more serious. "You know I’ve always liked you, right?"

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared up at him, wide-eyed. "Liked me?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fred nodded, his eyes searching yours. "Yeah. I mean, you’ve always been like... one of us. Part of the family. But this summer, I don’t know... I guess I realized I like you more than just... as part of the family."

Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. "Fred, I—"

He held up a hand, cutting you off. "You don’t have to say anything now. I just wanted you to know. But, if you want to go flying sometime... just the two of us, you know where to find me."

With that, Fred shot you one last grin, his eyes twinkling, before turning on his heel and sauntering down the corridor, leaving you standing there, stunned.

Your head was spinning, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Fred Weasley—Fred Weasley—had just told you he liked you. And not in the way you’d always thought, like a brother or a friend. No, this was something different, something that made your heart race and your palms sweat.

As you stood there in the empty corridor, you realized that maybe—just maybe—Fred wasn’t the only one whose feelings had changed over the summer.

Fred’s growth spurt had certainly been a surprise, but what surprised you even more was how much your own feelings had grown right alongside him. And now, as you made your way back to the common room, one thought echoed in your mind:

Maybe it was time to take Fred up on that flying offer.

[mastermindmiko]

Tests

Paring: Fred Weasley + fem!reader

word count: 2124

Summary: Angelina has been suggesting that you're pregnant, you're sure that she's wrong, but what's the harm in checking? She was right.

Warnings: Pregnancy, the future, ANGST with happy ending. Maybe some errors, I wrote this at 2 am.

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

I've known that something was wrong for two weeks now. I've been feeling sick, and I've missed my period. I've been craving a lot of different foods that I wouldn't usually eat, and my friends have noticed.

Angelina pointed it out to me this morning and that's how we got where we are now. She's holding out not one, not two, but three tests for me to try. I shake me head and look at her incredulously. I chuckle, "No way, Angie."

"Yes way, You might be." Angelina says, waving them in the air. I pace around the room again, and then stop to look at her and say, "Fred and I are always safe."

"Condoms only work most of the time, not always." Angelina says, and I sit on my bed, contemplating the thought. Angelina adds, "You've been craving things, you've been moody, you missed a period!"

"There has to be another explanation. I'm sure. I am sure that I'm not pregnant!" I say, and then Angelina walks from her bed to mine and says, "If you're so sure, then what's the harm in taking these to make sure."

"Fine." I say. I grab them from her hands and hop off the bed. I head to the bathroom and I take the tests. I set them up one by one beside each other perfectly in a straight line, and wait anxiously for the results to appear.

Angie knocks on the door and I open it for her. She looks at the three tests and stands beside me. I nibble on my fingers, anxiously. Angelina opens her mouth to say something and I shush her loudly. She says, "What? Am I gonna scare them by talking?!"

I, once again, shush her loudly. She huffs and folds her arms over her chest. I stare at the tests then at the watch over my wrist, thinking, why the hell is time moving so slow? As the time is about to finish, I start to pace around the room, then shuffle on my feet. Angelina says, "You can hold my hand if you're nervous."

"I'm not nervous!" I shout at her, then after a few second of nibbling at my bottom lip, I grab her hand in mine. I look at the watch, then squeeze Angie's hand, anxiously. In any second, there's either going to be a piece of news that will change not only my life, but my life and Fred's life forever, or I could have spent a lot of unnecessary time worrying.

"I'm sure whatever it is, you'll be fine." Angie says, she already knows that I'm pregnant, she feels it in her gut. I'm too scared to think about it myself because I might get that same feeling in my gut. All the evidence is there, the fatigue, not being able to go through a few classes before heading to the toilets, the nausea. All signs point to yes, but the proof will be in front of us in a few seconds.

My hands start to feel clammy and I need to not be holding anyone's hand right now. I go to sit on the closet toilet seat, and Angie sits on the edge of the tub. She asks, "How are you feeling?"

My throat feels dry, and I rub my hands together before rubbing them on my pants to dry them. I shrug my shoulders, and exhale. I let out a nervous chuckle, then say, "I'm terrified."

"What will everybody think? We've still got a few months left of school." I say, and I start panicking thinking about all the things that can go wrong about getting pregnant. "How can I have my NEWTs while being pregnant?"

I think of the last thing, the thing that's on my mind the most. You don't need to take your NEWTs to have a career anymore, and who cares what people think. My hands start to shake and I cry, "What if Fred leaves me?"

Angelina rushes to my side when she sees me cover my face and start crying. She presses a hand to my back and rubs it soothingly. She says, "Honey, it's going to be fine. I'm sure everything will work out to what's best, really. You can choose not to keep it, or put it up for adoption, maybe. Besides, you'll always have me."

I lift my hands from my palms and see her giving me a nervous smile herself. I smile back at her gratefully, and wrap my arms around her. From behind her back, I notice that one of the tests has changed. I trample her on my way, reaching it. I place my other hand over my mouth as I notice the two stripes.

I look at the others and they all have the same result. The two stripes. All the tests are positive. I gasp, and purse my lips. Angelina doesn't say anything and still rubs my back reassuringly. I put the tests back beside the sink and wash my hands. My heart is beating a hundred miles an hour.

"What are you going to do?" Angelina asks, cautiously. I sit back down on the toilet seat and she crouches in front of me. I tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling. I reply, "I have no idea."

"Darling?"

I hear Fred's voice say, and my eyes widen as much as they can. Angelina stands up immediately. I push her near the door, and whisper, "Go tell him I'm sick, or busy, anything like that. I can't talk to him right now, I can't!"

Angelina walks out of the bathroom, and I press my hear against the door, hoping to hear the conversation. Fred says, "Hi, Captain."

"She's busy right now, Weasley. She can't talk." Angelina says, in a steady voice, even though I know she's nervous. I can just picture Fred's face morph into confusion and then he says, "Why?"

"Is she in there?" Fred asks, I hear his footsteps coming towards the door, and I feel my blood run cold. He knocks on the door, and he says, "Darling? Are you in there?"

"Yes."

"What's going on? Is something wrong?" Fred asks, and I feel the urge to say, yes somethings wrong, something is very very wrong. I stutter, "No, everything's fine, Fred."

"You don't sound alright. Can I come in?" Fred asks, and I hear both Angelina and I shout, quickly, "NO!"

I hear Fred chuckle, but not his normal type of chuckle. He leans on the door, I know by the sound of the small thud against the door. Fred says, "What can Angelina see that I can't? I've already seen all of you."

That's the problem. I look down to the door handle and notice that there's no locks. I curse and it makes Fred say, "Love, I really need to see you, you're worrying me like crazy here."

I run to the counter, grab the tests and shove them into the trash bin. I let the toilet paper roll drop down hastily to hide them. I hear the door open, and I turn around to stand to face him. He looks worried, and I press my lips together. I give him an unconvincing smile.

"You look a little pale." Fred notes, he then steps closer to me, and leans closer. He adds, "You're sweating like crazy too."

"It's hot."

"It's November." Fred says, then grabs my hand. He leads me out of the room. I try to stop, but he's walking determined. I ask, "Where are we going?"

"To Madame Pomfrey, she's gonna have a full check up on you." Fred says, and I sit down on the floor to not move. If Madame Pomfrey does a check up, she'll no doubt find out that I'm pregnant. Fred stops too and looks behind him. He bends down and picks me up in his arms bridal style. Fred says, "You're going."

He takes me to the hospital wing with Angelina right behind us. Fred puts me on one of the beds, and then he sits down beside me, holding my hand, tightly. Madame Pomfrey comes to check up on me, she does scans and spells and everything. I wait until my secret is out to Fred. I don't think I can bare losing him.

Madame Pomfrey walks in with a paper, holding the tests' results. She walks over to us and then looks at the paper. Her eyes widen and I look at her desperately, hoping that she would lie for me. She clears her throat, and looks at Fred with a smile. She says, "Your girlfriend is completely fine."

"Just a little exam stress, you should make sure that she relaxes, and eats well." She continues, and I know a part of that advice is pregnancy related. She says, "Off you go then, Miss Johnson, if you could just stay for a second."

~~~

I couldn't tell Fred, and I couldn't look at him without feeling a nasty feeling gnawing at me, so my solution was to not be around Fred. I saw him at meals and during classes, but I never stuck around to see him after. This went on for a month, and I was already two months along. I was glad I wasn't showing.

I had decided to keep the baby, even when I don't know what's going to happen between me and Fred. Angelina has been the greatest help ever since Madame Pomfrey gave her my papers when I left with Fred the day I found out. She's been reading books, and making sure I'm eating right and everything. She supports me, the one thing she doesn't support me in is not telling Fred for this long.

"Is today the day?" She asks as we head down to breakfast. I've grown tired of the question. I shrug my shoulders, and give her the usual reply, "Maybe."

I don't get to go to breakfast because George walks out furiously and towers over me. He doesn't look at Angelina while he says, "If you could excuse us captain, I need to talk to my brother's girlfriend."

Angelina prepares a reply before I lift up a hand and say, "It's alright, Angie."

She hesitates before going into the Great Hall. George talks a few steps till we're out of the entrance of the hall. He glares at me and as soon as I lean against the wall, he starts the ramble, "I know I'm not supposed to interfere because this isn't my relationship, but you've been avoiding Fred for a while now, and he knows. He's been strong, but you're hurting him. He cried yesterday because he doesn't want you to break up with him, so that's where I draw the line-"

"George, I'm pregnant." I shot out, and he stands transfixed with his eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. He doesn't say anything so I grow more nervous. He stutters before spewing, "Is it Fred's?"

"Yes, of course, it's Fred's. What kind of woman do you take me for?!" I shout, furiously. Did he honestly think I would cheat on Fred? We've been dating for a while, If I would've cheated, I would've done it by now. George rubs the back of his head sheepishly, "Sorry, why haven't you told Fred?"

"I'm scared." I say, and look down at the floor. I bite the insides of my cheeks, and George nods his head understandingly. George knows what Fred would do, they're twins and they have this special ability to know what the other will do. George says, "I'm sure Fred will do what's right."

But what would Fred find right, that sort of thing is relative from one person to the other. He could leave, maybe that's what is right for him. I nod my head at George's words even though it doesn't soothe me. George asks, "How long have you known?"

"A month."

"A month!" George repeats, louder. He looks around to make sure no one heard him, even though it would be hard to know what the conversation is about from that word alone. George asks, "How far along are you?"

"Two months."

"Two months!"

"George, we're really getting nowhere like this." I say after rolling my eyes. George stares at the floor deep in shock. He asks, what I hope is the final question, "Are you keeping it?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. That's my niece or nephew in there. Cool." George says, and I smack his arm, even though it relieves me a bit to find out that this is George's reaction, maybe Fred's will be the same. George clears his throat then says, "I really think you should tell him, soon."

I nod my head at his words, and he puts a hand on my shoulder before saying, "Whatever Fred does I want you know that I can help, it'll be awkward if Fred decides to be an idiot, but I'll be there for you, and either George the second, or Georgina."

"Thank you, George. I'm ignoring you naming my kid by the way." I chuckle at the end, and he smiles back at me. George says, "He's in the dorm, if you want to talk to him."

I nod at his words and then he leaves to go to breakfast. I'm going to tell Fred, now. I march over to the common room, and then to his dorm, trying not to overthink it, and trying to get as much out of this new confidence. I open the door to his dorm, and Fred's standing in the middle.

"Hi."

"Hey." Fred says, and I look at him. All the confidence flies out the window in a second. I feel my breath hitch. I stutter out, "There's something I need to tell you."

Fred nods his head, but keeps standing where he is. I sit on his bed that I know so well, and the place where this all happened. I take in a deep breath, in and out, and a couple more times. Fred stays patient I loved that about him, he wouldn't appear to be the kind of person who would be patient, but he always is with me.

He watches me attentively, and I take in the last deep breath. I remind myself that I can do it, and even if Fred doesn't want to stay, I can raise my kid on my own with Angie and George. Here goes nothing. I shot out, "I'm pregnant."

He doesn't say anything for a bit and his facial expressions don't change. I consider repeating it again because he might not have heard me, but then his eyes widen, and his mouth hangs wide. Same reaction as George, just much more dramatic.

I feel my heart racing in anticipation, I pray that the shock subsides and his reaction gives me any input on how he's feeling. He stands up straighter, and fixes his expression to neutral. I straighten my back, ready for an answer. He doesn't give me one, instead his eyes keep flickering from my eyes to my stomach over and over again.

I place a protective hand over my stomach, and I find the wait unbearable. I wait, wishing he would just do something. The more his mouth stays closed, the more hope I lose. I feel my eyes water, and my stomach sink. I let out a bitter chuckle then say, "Could you at least say anything?"

It takes him a second, but he does say something. He says it so low that I barely even hear it. He mutters, "Shit."

He turns around and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as it closes, I start sobbing. I guess George was wrong, Fred didn't end up doing the right thing.

~~~

"I still can't believe that jerk!" Angelina shouts, as she folds her clothes, folding them into her suitcase. I don't bother doing the same with my clothes. I'm staying at Hogwarts for Christmas this year. I sigh, "I really don't want to think about it Angie."

"Sorry." She says, and I find myself staring at the ceiling again. It's been like this for two days. All I've done was sob, this is the first day that I wasn't a mess. George tried to see me, but I couldn't talk to him, not when he looks so much like Fred. It's unfair to him, I know, but I can't bring myself to care.

There's a knock on the door, and I assume it's one of my roommates, coming to get her things. Instead, Fred walks in. I see him before Angelina does, but as soon as she sees him, she starts, "You! Get out!"

She goes to him and starts to push him out the door, but he places his feet firmly on the ground, and holds Angelina off. Fred says, eyes looking straight at me, "Please, I want to talk."

"It's fine, Angie." I sigh, and she looks at me with bewilderment and then glares at Fred. She steps out of the room while Fred steps inside. She closes the door behind her, and Fred looks at me.

Fred looks around the room, and his eyes land at the only, still messy nightstand, mine. He clears his throat, but says nothing. I grow agitated, I sneer, "If you're not going to say anything, just leave."

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I don't know why I left. I'm an idiot. I can't imagine how you must've felt. I am so so sorry." Fred says, rushing over towards me. He sits on the bed beside me, and takes both my hands in his. I feel my eyes water, and I look down. He takes my chin in his hands, and makes me look into his eyes. He continues, "I was so worried. I haven't turned eighteen, and I was so scared that I wouldn't be a good dad. I don't have a job. I want to open a joke shop, who knows how much money that'll make, and I-"

He chokes up, and he wraps his arms around me. I hug him back just as tightly. A few tears slip from my eyes, and I squeeze him harder. I missed him so much. Fred says, "I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I love you so much. I don't want to lose you...either of you."

And just like that I'm sobbing. I blame the hormones a hundred percent. I mumble, "I love you too, Fred."

I'm sure I've ruined his sweater with my tears, but I can't bring myself to move an inch away from him. Fred wraps his arms around my waist and squeezes me, affectionately. He freezes and pushes me away from him by my shoulders. He panics, "Did I just squeeze baby?"

"I'm actually not sure." I reply, and I place a hand on my stomach. I shrug my shoulder and say, "I feel fine, so I guess not?"

"Come with me for Christmas." Fred suggests, and I feel stressed out by the idea. I haven't told anyone besides George and Angelina, so by the time that break is over I'll definitely be showing. Fred adds, "Only if you want to of course, I just don't want to miss you."

"Sure." I say, and Fred beams. He hugs me again, this time less tightly, making sure not to squeeze the baby. He starts tearing up himself, and I find peace in his arms. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life like this, especially with a tiny set of arms joining the hug.

an: I'm thinking of writing like a tiny little one shot on how Fred would be with like Pregnant reader, but I'm not sure

[weasleys-wizard-writes]

Latency Lingering {F.W}

Chapter II - Cold Comfort

Synopsis: after your run-in with Molly earlier in the afternoon, things come to a head when the very man you'd hoped to never see again shows up at your front door, breathless and demanding answers. And thus, your once so peaceful life comes to a sharp and grinding halt, rather likely for good.

When you looked back on it, your final happy evening with Fred was absolutely chock full of the kind of irony that could make a grown man weep.

It was something you'd scarcely considered prior to the birth of your children, the stinging pain of it all dulled by the persistent dread brought on by the promise of an unsupported birth and the overhanging threat of your ex finding out about the secrets you were keeping from him.

But, of course, that dread hadn't lasted forever, and mere weeks after the birth of your son and daughter you had found yourself suddenly consumed by the near hilarity of the tragedy that had befallen your love life, and the ever present sense of irony that hovered over it like a cloud.

After all, it had been on your last joyful evening with your former boyfriend that the then seemingly far off topic of pregnancy had come up, the weight of it manageable for what you had not then known would be the final time.

It had been a warm spring night, and although the weather had been pleasant enough as of late and the promise of your worst school year yet coming to a close never ceased to bring a sigh of relief to your lips, you couldn't help but feel completely miserable.

For weeks at that point, you had been dealing with utterly debilitating nausea (and the less than welcome side effects associated with it) all throughout your days, and though your love always did his best to support you, you could sense his hesitance and worry over your health as the date planned for he and his brother's conjoined escape drew nearer.

Thus, when you'd found yourself in the gryffindor common room pulled tight against his chest, you'd simply melted into him like a scoop of ice cream dropped upon sticky asphalt.

It always made you feel at least a little better, you'd found, to have him near, and you could tell that he was put at ease whenever he felt your familiar weight against him, a subtle reminder that you were alright even in spite of the illness that plagued you.

He would never admit it, and for you, he didn't have to, but Fred Weasley was a worrier, and a skilled one at that.

So, in order to stave off that worry in favor of spending his second to final evening with you at Hogwarts in better spirits than he otherwise might, he'd begun rattling off utterly ridiculous theories regarding the cause of your long term illness, the likes of which ranged from not having received enough kisses as of late, to bearing witness to Draco Malfoy's face each day.

Though, it was your darling's final theory that had truly managed to capture your attention.

"Ugh, don't even joke about that, Fred. It isn't nearly as funny as you think it is."

You'd huffed out with a light groan of semi-exaggerated despair, unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as your then boyfriend had laughed in response, tossing a lithe arm, strengthened in part by his history with quidditch, no doubt, across your shoulders.

"Who’s joking?"

He'd inquired with a feigned sincerity, his hand raising up to splay across his chest as if appalled.

"This is a matter of utmost seriousness, I'm afraid."

At that, you'd scoffed.

Fred Weasley, engage with a matter of "utmost seriousness"? Unlikely.

"It’d most certainly better not be. I am far from ready to have your child, Weasley."

Your boyfriend had hummed in response, the look of gleeful mischief in his eyes hard to miss.

You braced yourself for whatever ridiculous thing he was about to say.

"Really?"

He'd questioned as if truly baffled by your (sensible) admission.

"Well, you certainly could have fooled me the way that you- ack!"

Suddenly realizing exactly where he was going with that statement, you’d all but lunged to cover up his mouth before he could finish, not too keen on the idea of random passerbys hearing of your (admittedly rather active) sex life.

Still, Fred had dodged your "attack" quite easily, grinning wide as you'd fixed him with your most intimidating glare,

"I'm being serious, you git. You'd have to be mad to find something so disastrous amusing enough to joke about."

To that, Fred had simply shrugged, pulling you ever closer with the arm he'd kept wrapped around your now slightly tensed shoulders.

"I think we may just have different interpretations of what is disastrous, my dear."

He had teased, breaths tickling the baby hairs that grew atop your head,

"I have it all planned out, you know."

You'd hummed at that, eyes twinkling with curiosity as you turned your head to better see the man sitting beside you.

"Oh?" You'd asked, "Do tell."

Fred had chuckled, leaning his cheek against the top of your head as he spoke.

"First, we get the bloody hell out of here."

He'd teased, knowing full well just how much closer his impending absence was in comparison to your own.

"And then, as we'll doubtless be wealthy and well adjusted men by the time you graduate in a few weeks time, you'll move in with George and I, doing whatever job you please until I either convince you to work at our wildly successful shop, or you really do fall pregnant. Whichever comes first."

You'd burst out laughing and smacked your boyfriend's shoulder at that comment, noting with joy the way that he shook with his own laughter against you.

"A child before marriage, Mr. Weasley?" You'd teased once your amusement had been quelled enough to allow for speech, "I fear your mother would just about flay you for such a thing.”

The ginger had hummed in subtle confirmation at that, shrugging slightly as he replied,

"Perhaps, but I reckon she'd be utterly besotted with you for it, so you've not much to lose there besides your future husband."

"Future husband and the father of my child in this hypothetical scenario, I'll remind you." You'd teased, "I'd be rather cross with you if you fell to your mother and left me to raise Fred Jr. all by my lonesome."

Your love had grinned wide at that, raising a brow as he considered your words further,

"You think you'd give me a son first then?" He'd asked teasingly, "Because I have a feeling our first will be a girl."

You'd outright laughed again at that admission, baffled and highly amused by your boyfriend's utter certainty in regards to your future.

"Ah, my apologies. Fredette then."

The man sitting beside you scowled as if you'd said the most absurd thing he'd heard in weeks.

"I think not. Frederica perhaps."

To that, you'd groaned, shaking your head back and forth in utter exasperation.

"Absolutely not. If you'd have our daughter named after you then I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more creative than that."

"Oh, not to worry, love."

Fred had quipped back immediately,

"As I said before, I've got it all planned out."

You opened your mouth to question the man further, but already knowing what you were going to ask, your love had spoken up before you could,

"Winnie for a girl, and Augustine for a boy."

You'd all but gawked at that, shocked by the sincerity of the man's tone as you pulled away to see him already smiling down at you.

"Why Winnie?"

You'd asked gently, watching as the gryffindor sitting beside you shrugged his shoulders,

"It's a rather cute name, isn't it? I think it would fit an adorable little ginger girl splendidly. I can already hear you calling it out across our home, chasing her down to rub sunscreen on those doubtlessly freckled cheeks of hers as she fights tooth and nail for her right to roast in the afternoon sun."

Laughing, you nodded semi-exasperatedly at the rather vivid scene presented to you,

"If she's yours I'm sure I'll be doing that and many similar tasks quite often."

You'd paused for a moment to think further before speaking up again,

"And Augustine?"

Fred smiled softly,

"I've always rather liked the name, but have never heard it used much." He began before continuing almost hesitantly, "And it certainly helps that I fell for you in the month of August, as well."

Your eyes had widened slightly at that, brow raising alongside them as you'd urged Fred to elaborate.

"August?" You'd asked, "We didn't even have school in August, Freddie."

The man sitting beside you nodded in confirmation to your words.

"I know. It was summer, I was free of schoolwork and able to terrorize Ronald, Percy, and little Ginny as much as I well pleased, but even so, the only thing I could think about was you. Can you imagine, fourteen year old me desperate to get back to Hogwarts all because I wanted to see a girl? It was not an easy realization to come to terms with, I'm afraid."

You'd scoffed at that, hand reaching over to squeeze his own where it draped across your shoulder in spite of your seemingly nonplussed reaction as you considered the proposed names further.

"Winnie and Augustine." You had murmured aloud, tasting the two names together on your tongue for the very first time. "I quite like those."

And just as he'd begun to fiddle with the promise ring adorning the hand that rested gently atop his own, your love hummed softly in confirmation.

"I knew you would."

And then, smiling as you'd closed your eyes contentedly and leaned against him, you couldn't help but let out a pleased sigh.

In spite of all the stress you'd endured as of late with Umbridge's rule, your sudden and unexplained bouts of illness, and Fred and George's impending absence, the future, it seemed, was bright.

Until, that is, the very next day, when you'd learned alone in the girls bathroom that some aspects of it would be coming far sooner than you ever could have planned for or even imagined.

That night, just over twenty-four hours after your hopeful conversation, you had broken things off with Fred Weasley, and you hadn't seen him since.

That is, of course, until today.

Because even in spite of your insistence that she not tell him anything earlier that afternoon when she'd caught you on your way out of that accursed doctor's office, it seemed that Molly Weasley had paid your pleas little mind, for it was only a few hours after you'd arrived home that Fred had turned up at your front door.

And truthfully, you knew that it was partially your own fault that he had found you with such ease.

After all, you still lived in that same flat your aunt had rented out to you during your summers away from Hogwarts, the one she used to supplement her income as she persisted with her freelance photography abroad.

Your mother, her sister, hadn't spoken to her (at least to your knowledge), since she'd refused to kick you out of it after your graduation, but the woman in question had never seemed to mind.

In truth, you hadn't yet found it within yourself to miss your children's maternal grandmother much either.

But still, even in spite of your aunt's kindness, you couldn't help but wish you'd had the forethought to move elsewhere as you stared helplessly at the man standing on the other side of your door.

He looked positively frazzled, and utterly determined.

"Fred I-"

"Tell me that she's mistaken."

The young wizard half demanded, half plead, his hand coming to rest upon the inner lip of the door as if afraid you might close it on him at any moment.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t considered it.

You swallowed thickly at his words, opening your mouth in search of a reply only to have him cut you off once more before you could even begin.

"Or better yet, tell me that she's lying and that this is all some utterly ridiculous ploy to get me to see you again after all these years. Tell me anything Y/n, just not that she's right."

Unsure of what to say, you cast your gaze downward toward the floor and away from Fred's prying eyes, and immediately he drew in a sharp breath and cursed above you, bringing his unoccupied hand to rub across his face.

The silence that descended upon the two of you afterward was thick and cloying, the absence of all sound so harsh that it nearly made you shudder, an urge you only held back because you refused to come across as weak to the man standing before you.

Which, as things went, happened to be rather difficult considering how absolutely terrified you felt.

"Truly?"

He breathed out after several long seconds of nothing,

"All this time, and you were just never going to tell me?"

Slowly, and with a shameful certainty, you nodded at that, hands clasping in front of you as your fingers worried away at the spot on your finger where your promise ring had one sat.

Old habits died hard, you supposed.

"Fred, I..."

You trailed off for a few moments, desperately seeking out the right words, only to give up with a sigh when you realized they would likely never come.

There were no "right words" for you to say in this situation. There was only the truth, as ugly as it may have been.

"I didn't know what else to do."

At that, a short burst of harsh and humorless laughter that was jarringly similar to that which he'd let out on your final night together in the astronomy tower pushed passed your ex's lips, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but flinch back from it, a movement which he either didn't notice, or chose to ignore entirely.

"You didn't know what else to do besides dump me with no real explanation and hide my own children from me for nearly three years of their lives?"

He scoffed, looking down at you as if in utter disbelief,

"Does that seem like the most rational decision to you, Y/n?"

In response to his mocking tone and blatant disregard for your reasoning, you looked up to meet your former lover's eyes once more, glaring daggers into them as a hand came to rest upon your hip.

"Was it a rational decision for you to set off fireworks in a school, Fred? Or for you to drop out mere months before graduation?"

You snapped, taking a step closer to the man as you pointed an accusatory finger to his chest, the space between you decreased enough now that you could smell the familiar cologne he'd always worn, the very same one you'd described while smelling amortentia all those years ago in Snape's classroom.

Fred glared right back at you after a moment of what appeared to be surprise at your sudden displeasure, but before he could even think to open his mouth again, you continued.

"How about when you decided to fight in a war that from what I heard, very nearly killed you, huh? And let's not forget to mention this very moment here, where you've turned up to my aunt’s flat in search of your ex girlfriend while looking half a mad man instead of thinking to send an owl first to at least make sure that I even still live here. How rational does that seem, Fred?!"

Your voice was raised now, having been increasing in volume since you'd begun the second half of your rant, and while he had never been one for shouting, it seemed that Fred Weasley was far too concerned with not being outdone to care today.

"You're saying I should have sent an Owl?!" He asked incredulously, the laughter that left him just as barren of humor as the bout before it.

"Oh that's rich coming from you, love, because you could stand to learn a thing or two about sending important owls, it would seem!"

You scoffed, arms crossing atop your chest as you opened your mouth to reply once more, a no doubt biting remark already primed and ready to go at your lips.

As unfair as it was, after all, there was some long buried part of you that felt angry at the man standing before you.

Because even if it was entirely your own choice, you had endured nearly nine long months of pregnancy completely alone, before laboring just under two weeks early all by yourself, which of course had preceded you then raising both of your children all by your lonesome, exhausted and afraid of whatever it was that would come next, because as you'd soon discovered alongside the existence of your children, there was always something else looming on the horizon.

And it just wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair how desperately you yearned for the touch of a man now supposedly unknown to you as you laid in bed each night,

It wasn't fair how curiously your little ones asked about other children's fathers,

It wasn't fair how obviously and agonizingly they took after their dad,

It wasn't fair how you saw him briefly each time you looked into their beautiful little eyes or brushed your fingers through their soft ginger hair,

None of it was fair, not in the slightest.

But just as you were about to open your mouth and express these long buried and ignored feelings of yours, a small and painfully poorly timed voice called out from behind you.

And when you shifted your gaze to see your ex's face more clearly, all you saw expressed upon it was a deep and sorrowful dread as he stared just past you at the once empty door frame, which you hoped against all hope and sense was still bereft of life.

Of course though, you could already tell from Fred's face alone that this was not the case.

"Mummy?"

The young voice that you immediately identified as that of your son questioned curiously from behind you, and finally you swallowed your hopes and fears and turned around to face the music for what felt like the one millionth time in that day alone.

And of course, standing there, backlit by the slightly yellow glow of the bulbs from the kitchen that sat just inside, was your boy, your darling Augustine, looking the very picture of the man that stood just a few feet away from him.

His hair was an absolute mess from his clearly restless sleep, and he was rubbing at his eyes in a manner that made it nearly impossible to make out their color, but even so that inarguable likeness was there.

He looked every bit the quintessential Weasley child, and it made your heart flutter in your chest when you noticed the way that your former love seemed to take this in, as if it were a knife to the gut.

Clearing your throat to rid it of the sudden thickness that you found there, you were quick to reply.

"Yes, love?"

You murmured softly, reaching out gently to help guide the young boy to you when he began to fumble all but blindly in your direction, eyes still blurred by sleep.

"Can sissy and me sleep with you? We've had another bad dream."

At that, you frowned immediately, maternal instincts quick to take over in spite of your stressful situation.

For nearly a year now your twins had suffered from nightmares, often on the same nights, though thankfully from what they had shared with you, they at least seemed to be about differing things.

That said, it did cause you rather significant grief as a parent to see your children suffering so with something you could not even hope to control or change.

It made you feel weak, helpless, and above all else, afraid of your own potential errors or failures in raising your little one's to have something like this plague them for so very long.

Several nights a week you would awaken to the sounds of pattering feet on hardwood, petrified voices crying out your name from down the hall, or little fingers poking at your body to rouse you as one or both of your children sought out the comforts of their mother.

Most often during times like this though, you'd found that it was Winnie who came to get you, her brother (younger by a whopping nine minutes and twenty-three seconds), typically favoring bundling up beneath his covers until you went off to gather him up in your arms and carry him to your bedroom before cocooning him alongside his sister within the blanket that smelled soothingly of you and the detergent you used on it once weekly.

So, naturally, it worried you to note that it was August who sought you out on this particular evening.

Sympathetically, you cooed to the boy standing before you, reaching down to pick him up with ease before setting him familiarly upon your hip with a skill that was rather jarring to the nearly forgotten man standing with his back to the wall just opposite you and your son.

"Of course you can sleep with me, darling."

You assured him gently, rubbing his back with your still free hand as you allowed your voice to take on that soft and soothing tone that all mothers seemed to master at one point or another,

"Does sissy need me to go and get her tonight?"

Your son had just begun quietly shaking his head when the sound of small feet on tiled floors caught your attention, and you immediately turned to better see the source of it as your daughter came into view.

There, backlit in the very same way that her brother had been, stood your ever so brave and dreadfully witty Winnifred, whose hair was still up in messy pigtails from earlier that day due to her refusal to allow you to take them out at bedtime.

You often claimed that she didn't get such stubbornness from you whilst you were teasing her, but you knew deep down that such a statement was far from true.

She was, after all, just as much your daughter as she was Fred's, and it seemed that the apple did not fall far from the tree in that particular regard.

"There's my sweet girl,"

You began, squatting down to offer your unoccupied arm to her,

"Would you like a cuddle as well, then?"

And immediately, the elder of your two children all but launched herself into your arms, muttering softly of her nightmare and the fading details she recalled of it as she buried her face into your neck, relaxing herself with any and all familiaritites you carried about your person.

You shushed her gently, swaying your body back and forth with a practiced rhythm until all of the sudden, Fred's voice snapped you straight out of your reverie.

"They truly are real then."

He said softly, as if in utter disbelief of the sight unfolding before him.

Unsure of what to say, you simply nodded, avoiding his gaze to the very best of your ability as you prayed he didn't notice the quiver in your bottom lip upon hearing the hurt and confusion in his voice.

"I-"

Seeming to choke a bit on his words, Fred faltered for a moment, floundering in place until finally, he simply shook his head and sighed.

"I should go."

Your eyes widened at that, and your head quickly snapped up as the man standing before you pulled a small pen and notepad set from his back pocket, the front of it clearly stained with ink and worn from use.

No doubt for his ideas, then, you realized idly before putting a stop to any familiarity you felt for the individual standing before you.

He was a different man now, a totally new person.

You had no right thinking of him as if you still knew who he was today.

Scribbling out a few lines of text in writing that you knew all too well, the ginger sighed before tearing the piece of paper he had been using out and handing it to you.

"That there is the address to mine and George's shop and our apartment just above it. If you don't find me there, I'm likely at Mum's or somewhere just down the road. Have someone let me know if you ever stop by while I'm not in."

Shocked, you nodded absently before finally finding it within yourself to speak up once more.

"So I'm guessing you'll be wanting me to come to you about all of this sooner rather than later?"

Shrugging in a manner that you would almost describe as hopeless, Fred looked to you briefly before quickly glancing away, as if pained by the mere sight of you alone.

"I would have wanted you to come to me about our children years ago, but better late than never I suppose."

Opening your mouth as if to argue with his statement, you found that nothing worth saying would come.

Once again, it seemed he was rather justified in how he felt.

Once again, it seemed you were the bad guy for doing what you had felt was right all those years ago.

What a mess.

Seeing your apparent speechlessness, Fred simply nodded in farewell before apparating out of your apartment complex without another word, leaving you to wonder how today could have begun so typically and ended in such a life altering manner.

Such was life with twins, you supposed.

masterlist

[desideriumwriter]

i'm thinking about an angry love confession in the quidditch pitch with either of the twins. while it's raining. PLEASE

(also i'm loving anyone but you, i can't wait for the next chapter 😭)

you are a saint for this request, i love you. i live for the dramatics. take this as an apology for the other love confession blurb <3 oh and more aby is on its on its way i pinkyyyy promise!

wc: 761

f.w. masterlist | navi

You were pissed. You’d come out all the way to the Quidditch Pitch by yourself to watch Fred practice, just because he asked you to. Only to end up disappointed and rained on.

Oliver was nice enough today to end practice shorter than usual due to the sudden heavy rain.

Already soaked enough from the run you had to make from the spot you were sitting on the bleachers to underneath them, you crossed your arms as you waited for Fred to get done talking with Angelina.

Soon they parted ways, Angelina stroking his arm as he walked away. The scowl on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Fred once he turned to you.

“You okay?” He walked up to you, broom still in hand and a smile still on his face from whatever humorous conversation he was having.

“Why do you even bother asking me here if you’re just gonna gawk at Angelina the entire time?” You muttered, looking at the wet grass.

“I don’t gawk at her.” Fred scoffed in disbelief. “What’s going on?” He lowered his chin, trying to get a look at your face.

“Whatever, I’m going back to the castle.” You shrugged, arguing with him was like talking to a wall.

“I- What’s the matter with you?” He grimaced, dropping his broom and following you as you went out into the rain. You didn’t respond, only muttering something about wanting to get back to your room.

“Hey, come on, stop. You’re acting all strange.“ Fred grabbed your shoulder, you shrugged him off.

“I’m not gonna let you walk all the way back alone in the rain, you know? You’re worrying me.” He grabbed your shoulder again, this time you whipped around angrily.

“Why do you care? Why don’t you go and continue on flirting with Angelina?” Your words were spilling out your mouth with no control, pure jealousy was spewing out of you.

“Where’s all this come from? What’s your problem?” Fred stuttered a bit, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst.

“This! This is my problem!” You went on, tearing your hood off your head. Your robes were completely soaked now and doing no help to shield you from the rain.

“I show up to your practices and games every single time you ask, I watch and I wait for you, just for you to go straight over to her!” You exclaimed.

“I’ve been trying to get you to figure it out but you're always busy with your pranks and practice and- and her!” Your voice wavered, yet you were too angry to feel embarrassed yet.

“I thought maybe you’d notice, maybe you’d see, but I can’t keep waiting and hoping while you’re off with someone else! And if I could just tell you then maybe you’d realize!” You blurted out. You were praying the raindrops hitting would disguise the tears that had begun to fall from your eyes.

“Then tell me! What is it?” Fred huffed, frustration in his tone.

You opened your mouth but only a shaky breath came out. You were hesitant and holding back, knowing that if you told him everything between you would go one of two ways.

“Come on, tell me what this big issue is! What?” He pushed one more time, causing you to break.

“I’m in love with you, you git! That’s what!” You yelled, voice slightly cracking. Fred’s face dropped.

The truth was laid bare and the both of you were silent, the pouring rain around you working as ambient noise.

"Say something," you hoarsely whispered. "Please say something." You tried to steady your heaving breath and racing heart, but Fred’s face didn’t help at all.

You felt like an idiot. You closed your eyes, wishing you could go back and have this never happen.

You were ripped out of your self-dwelling once two hands cupped your face and pulled you in. His lips are on yours, the coldness of the rain is replaced by the warmth of his skin, and you absolutely melt into it.

Once you finally broke apart, Freds hands still remained holding your face, making him look at you, his expression had shifted to a softer look.

“I don’t want Angelina, I want you.” His voice was gentle, “She doesn't compare to you. No one does.” He kissed you again, leaving you breathless.

“I don’t understand, if you felt the same, why didn’t you say anything?” You stammered, this was honestly the last thing you expected.

“I didn’t really think you'd be interested in a git like me.” He smiled and shrugged.

tell me what you thought!

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity; snippets of navigating fifth year with Fred Weasley

series masterlist

based on a request from ages ago. its a little choppy, but bare with me, ive just suffered the worst bout of writer's block ever😓 (i'm actually so sad that i've neglected serendipity so much but im back and i have so many wips to share with you all!!!!)

pairing(s): fred weasley x fem!reader, brief theodore nott x fem!reader (platonic)

Hogwarts doesn't feel the same anymore. The usual air of magic had been snuffed out with each imposing rule that was nailed to the Entrance Hall walls. There is no more laughter in the corridors, no more soft chatter from the figures inside the magical portraits; instead the repetitive notes of Professor Umbridge's sugary sweet tone rattle over deafening speakers.

All boys and girls must remain eight inches apart from eachother.

There will be no house fraternising during meal times.

Talk of any unauthorised groups will be met with adequate punishment.

Curfew must be met by every member of the student body.

That last one still haunts you in your peaceful moments.

It's the reason you sit on one of the uncomfortable plush seats in Professor Umbridge's office, a cursed black quill clenched in your harsh grip as you write out those very words, the familiar cursive of your own handwriting etching painfully into the skin of your non-dominant hand. She was smirking at you under the guise of sipping lengthily from her pink teacup, watching as the tears steadily building in your eyes finally spilled down over your cheeks, which were flushed red from the pain.

How had you found yourself in this predicament exactly?

You were made a prefect at the start of the year, alongside Hermione and Ron, which you'd found out when you got your letter detailing which books you would need for your fifth year. You remember the pride written across your parents' faces and how elated you had been to be given such a prestigious role, one that many Ravenclaw students in your year wanted just as badly as you. It was a revered spot after all. Everyone was elated for you, but none more so than the oldest Weasley twin.

"Are you going to give us unlimited leeway with pranks now that you hold such a position of authority, gorgeous?" Fred's husky voice joked in a whisper as the two of you sat at the dining table during the small party that Molly and your mother had set up in celebration for the three of you.

"Are you asking me to take advantage of my new position, Weasley?" You ask, a small smirk making its way on your face as you fight the blush threatening to paint your cheeks at his sudden closeness.

All summer, he had been flirting with you. At first you put it down to his lack of contact to the outside world and you laughed at his well-timed jokes and played into his flirtations with rebutting jokes of your own.

But then one night, when you flirted back daringly, he kissed you. He actually kissed you. It wasn't your first kiss. No, that went to Harry in a random game of truth or dare back in second year (something you both agreed was wrong on so many levels; it was never discussed by any of you again). But this kiss with Fred felt incredible and it cemented a closer bond with the older twin, whose brilliantly blue eyes sparkled with something more whenever he stared at you after that moment.

He'd rewarded your achievement later that same evening, after the party, behind the closed door of your temporary bedroom, leaving you smiling and giddy for the rest of summer. It's what prompted Ginny and Hermione's loose bet as to how long it would take for the pair of you to get together officially.

Your elation lasted until the very moment you stepped into the Prefects' Carriage and found out who you'd be partnered up with for the year.

Theodore Nott. Notorious for his aloof attitude as well as his surprising intellect that rivalled Hermione's. He was part of Riddle's group, one of the most popular groups in school, possibly trumping even the Golden Trio. But because he was part of Riddle's crew you had learned to hate him just a little – his teasing remarks towards your friends, especially Ron, always sent you into a spiral of brewing animosity.

So when Alicia Spinnet, who had been given the prestigious role of Head Girl, announced that she was pairing you with him, you cast her a look of utter betrayal, which she vehemently ignored.

You did not speak to Nott for the entire time you were meant to familiarise yourselves with eachother, and he made no effort either; grey eyes misted over as if he wasn't even part of the present conversation altogether. Gods how you despised him.

~∞~

Upon returning to your original compartment, following slowly behind Ron and Hermione, Fred had immediately seen your crestfallen look.

"What's up, gorgeous?" he asked from his seat by the window, ignoring Ron's faux gagging at the nickname. He'd also moved further into the corner to allow you the space to sit down.

You thanked him with a quiet smile before sitting down with a sigh.

"Alicia paired me with Nott for prefect rounds. How unfortunate is that?" You mumble, resting your head dejectedly against his burly shoulder.

"You're joking?!" He says with wide eyes. "What the hell was she thinking?"

"I assume it was because Davies paired Parkinson with your counterpart, so you got paired with Nott as a consequence." Hermione said from the opposite seat. "The Ravenclaws and Slytherins in sixth and seventh year were paired together as well."

Yes that was an overarching trend that had seemed to stick over the years.

"Maybe it won't be too bad." Ginny says and you all turn to her in synchronised disbelief. "What? I've never seen Nott speak. Maybe that'll be a good thing. A mute partner is better than a snarky one."

"Just the thought of being in his presence makes me uncomfortable. Mute or not." You say quietly, so only Fred can hear.

"If he does or says anything to you, let me know yeah?" He replied with equal secrecy and you nod your head imperceptibly in response.

He lets you use his shoulder as a makeshift pillow when you find your eyes closing drowsily, brushing the loose hair that falls into your face and ignoring George's knowing glances.

~∞~

The very first round of Prefect duties was utterly boring and painfully long. You and Nott had patrolled the Astronomy corridor with lacklustre precision, both eager to get away from eachother's presence.

It was like this for a while, a few months to be exact, until you both became accustomed to the silence, to the point where it was actually bareable. No longer were rounds a labourous activity; you and Nott began to partake in small talk, to the most minute extent – in no way did this make you aquainted and in the daylight, you returned to steely looks and barely contained snarls of discontent, which was mirrored by your friends, and his. You barely noticed the extra attention that Voldemort's son seemed to be giving you as your friendship with Theo progressed at a steadily growing pace.

At your budding friendship with the Slytherin Prefect, Fred began showing up at the end of your rounds to whisk you away, never sparing Theo a glance. The two of you would wander the desolate corridors, hands interlocked as you spoke quietly and unhurriedly. You noticed that Fred, always grinning and never unnecessarily angry, would grow agitated in Theo's presence and you never understood why.

Until one night, when Fred was loitering at the end of your last corridor to patrol, Theo had said something that made you burst into pearls of laughter; his face had lit up with a delighted smirk at the sound.

Fred's face was stoic and so unnaturally like his usual cadence that it took you completely by surprise.

"Of course you're waiting here, Weasley." Theo had mumbled, mostly to himself, but Fred had bristled from where he was leaning against the wall.

"You have a problem with that, Nott?" He had snarled and you'd looked at him with widened eyes at the edge in his voice.

Eager to defuse the tension, you took Fred's hand and gave Theo a look that read 'stop being an arsehole', before leading the ginger boy away.

Theo had gone back to his best friend to report that Mattheo's suspicions were indeed correct: you had been learning Legillimancy and had unknowingly spoken to Theo without so much as moving your lips.

And Fred had no idea.

~∞~

This routine continued for you and Fred, leaving you at the butt end of George and Lee's teasing. You came to expect him to be waiting at the end of your rounds, where you would part ways with Theo before spending at least an hour in Fred's presence.

On some occasions when it was far too cold to continue wandering the hallways at night, he would tell you to go straight to the Gryffindor common room, where there would be a fire in the hearth and plenty of blankets to snuggle into.

On such occasions, Theo offered to walk you there, despite him not wanting to be anywhere near the lions' den. It was during these times where your friendship with him became cemented as pure and real. Your friends were surprised when you actively sought eachother out during lessons.

Fred hated your budding friendship, but he said nothing about it; it wasn't his place to undermine your friendships.

But it became hard to hold his tongue when Professor Umbridge unveiled her new Inquisitorial Squad, which Theo and his friends had joined in quick succession.

The Inquisitorial Squad was a massive hindrance for Dumbledore's Army. The lot of you had to be more vigilant with your timings for the meet ups in the Room of Requirement, lest you get caught out by these glorified prefects. The Inquisitorial Squad is how you ended up in her office in the first place.

You had been patrolling with Theo, who was complaining about how frustrating having magicless lessons was becoming in the lead up to ypur OWL exams (you'd felt guilty about the DA not including any Slytherins all year, and this further cemented that feeling), when Adrian Pucey and Professor Umbridge came waltzing around the corner.

"Good evening Master Nott." the Professor says warmly, before her gaze sweeps over to you and her beady eyes catch onto the flashy Prefect badge pinned proudly tp your chest.

"Miss Meadow, why are you out past curfew?" She asks with faux concern, mouth twisting with a sadistic smirk.

"Uh-" You look at Theo, who looks just as startled as you. "We're just about to finish our rounds, Professor."

Umbridge lets out a heinous giggle that grates on your nerve.

"Oh my dear, didn't you see the newest decree?" She asks, her face alight with victory when you shake your head. "I have no need for Prefects anymore. I disproved them as a group."

"Wha- Why?" you ask, disbelief painted across your face. Pucey smirks as he looks from you to Theo.

"The Inquisitorial Squad has overtaken that job, Meadow." He spits your name like its dirt on the bottom of his shoe. You share a look of alarm with Theo.

I knew nothing of this Meadow, I promise you.

He looks sincere and you believe him, word for word.

"This sheer display of disobedience cannot go unpunished." Her harsh giggle is the only sound that fills the corridor.

She hands you a detention on a silver platter and you go into it blind. You didn't know that Harry had been trying to protect you, Ron and Hermione from the same fate as him.

~∞~

She dismissed you with a delighted giggle after an hour of writing the same line over and over again.

Curfew must be met by every member of the student body.

Your hand is throbbing from the pain, but all you feel is numb. You wander the hallways like a ghost, not bothering to pay mind to where you're walking, until you find yourself at the portrait of the Fat Lady leading to the Gryffindor common room.

"Password?!" Elizabeth says impatiently, as if she'd been repeating herself over and over.

"Gillyweed." You mumble and she finally takes in your appearance, completely forgetting to open the portrait hole.

"Oh my dear, are you alright?" She says, voice full of concern, and if she were able to, you're sure she'd reach a hand out and place it delicately onto your shoulder.

"'M fine, Elizabeth. Just need to sit down." You didn't realise how tired you were, but from the slurring of your words and the speed with which the portrait swings open, with no hesitation towards the blue and bronze tie donning your neck, you must be on the verge of collapsing.

Fred sees you first.

"Meadow? What are you doing here, gorgeous?" he asks, voice filled with concern.

"Don't know. But 'M really sleepy." You say and you grip at his arms with barely any strength, which he notes with wide, panicking eyes.

"Shit- okay, come on let's go upstairs."

He guides you slowly towards his dorm, ignoring his brothers and Hermione and Harry's looks of worry. He sees the blood dripping from your hand in the dim light of the room, which prompts him to usher you much faster.

He sits you on the marble of the ensuit bathroom, the cold of the tiles barely registers to you.

He's mumbling a series of healing charms against your hand, jaw clenching when the blood flow slows enough for him to see the culprit of your bloodlust.

"Did she do this to you?" He asks, his voice as low as a growl that has your thigh clenching at the tone.

"Technically," You start with a weak laugh, "I did this to myself. She told me what to write."

"It's not funny, gorgeous." He says with a frown that you manage to wipe away with a peck of your lips.

"It's fine, Freddie."

"No. It's not."

You can practically see the plans forming in his brain and the next day, a series of crazed birds are let loose in the Great Hall, all headed straight for the newly appointed Head Mistress, Fred's smirking face meeting her's with no hesitation.

His hand sports similar wounds to you by the end of the day and you patch him up in the same fashion that he did for you.

~∞~

You don't show up to your scheduled Prefect meetings for the rest of the year, and you avoid Theo in the corridors, much to your friends' delight.

His voice in your mind is the only point of contact that you have with your Italian friend, something you keep hidden from your friends, especially Fred.

You look sad, tesoro. He says from across the Great Hall, days after your first detention with Umbridge. You sit facing the Slytherin table beside Luna Lovegood, who looks between you, Fred and Theo imperceptibly.

I'm not sad. I'm bored.

Yes because I'm sure the Gryffindor table is just a delight to be seated at.

You scoff outwardly at his sarcasm.

"What're you scoffing about, gorgeous?" Fred's voice says from behind you. You sneak a look towards Theo, who seems to have engaged himself in a conversation with Riddle and Berkshire, not showing that he was just immersed in conversation with you mere seconds ago.

"Just thinking about all the ways I want to make Umbridge suffer." You say with an offhanded shrug. Luna giggles into the palm of her hand.

"I have plenty of ideas." He says with a smirk as he drags you from your seat and into the corridors beyond the Great Hall.

Professor Umbridge may have cast a cloud of sorrow over the magic of Hogwarts, but nothing could take away the fun you'd been having in the stolen moments with your best friend's brother.

Not even the fact that he was leaving prematurely. Certainly not after you convince yourself to share your growing feelings for him, to have that snuffed out by his secret declaration.

Your chance with him is taken from you as he and George sail away from Hogwarts with guffawing laughter at the sight of Umbridge's sour face. They're off to live their lifelong dream, taking your dreams with them.

The next time you see Fred is after you watch Sirius' body fall through the veil, mind and body too numb to process any and all of your feelings. You only reach out for Teddy in your mind, a comforting voice of reason for all you'd seen. Even the strangely beautiful sight of the thestrals, that were invisible only hours before, did not phase you.

You fell into Theo's comforting embrace the moment you were able to leave the Hospital Wing, Fred Weasley long forgotten at Ron's bedside.

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[theplanetsandstars]

Touch. F.W

A/n: this is very short and rushed but I needed it out of my drafts. English isn’t my first language and I apologize for any grammar errors. This is shit angst but that’s what I love <3

Summary: You and Fred have been dating for a couple of months. Now that it’s public he’s acting less affectionate towards you, why?

Fred Weasley was unlike anyone you had been with before. Those who had you before only wanted your body, not your heart. The showed you off like a prized possession instead of treasuring you. But Fred was caring and told you to express you’re feelings and never hold anything from him. That he was there for you for all you’re pretty and all you’re ugly he would stick around, that’s what he would say. That was even before your relationship with him went public he was so sweet.So why wasn’t he the same around his friends?

Sure around yours he was touchy-super touchy. Always had his hand on you no matter what, whether in was on you’re thigh, the small of you’re back or even just snakes around you’re body that was his love language, physical touch. It scared you at first the touch, because it usually came with intentions. But with Fred it was different, it was affectionate.

So of course it meant something to you when he almost refused to touch you when his friends were around.

One day you were going off to hogesmade with you’re friends and without Fred, just a girls day. But you knew that he would be out with his brother and friends as well. When you entered the three broomsticks with youre friends you immediately recognized the red head sitting with his friends in the far back corner he simply smiled at you. No big hug or even just a wave just a smile which you didn’t return back

Luckily you’re friends helped you forget all about it but, that’s wasn’t enough of a distraction to prevent you from seeing him wave at some blonde Gryffindor who walked in. That’s the first time an instance like this has happened and even though it bothered you to you’re core, there was no point in arguing with him, you didn’t want to be a bother.

About a week later you were heading to one of his quidditch matches cheering as loudly as you could for you’re boyfriend. Once it was over Gryffindor had won, as expected you were so excited and proud of you’re boyfriend who had worked so hard for this. You rushed to the outside of the changing rooms to wait for him where many other people were waiting as well. “Hey! Who are you here for?” You heard a girl ask you turned and saw the blonde who Fred waved to from the three broomsticks you smiled at her “Hey! I actually here for Fred” you said and hee smile dropped a little “oh I didn’t know Freddie had a girlfriend” she said and that made you’re heart drop

Not only at the nickname but also at the fact that they’ve probably talked and hung out but he’s never mentioned you or the fact that he has a girlfriend? You needed to leave you could not see him when you were like this, reafy to argue and yell at him but he’s cluleless and just won a match you thought. It’s better to simply distance yourself for right now. With that in mind you turned around and pushed through the crowd of people and ran back to you’re dorm.

Unbeknownst to you Fred did look for you. Looked everywhere high and low wasn’t listening to what anyone was saying because he was trying to find his girl. Once he couldn’t find you he saw Aubrey, the blonde Gryffindor girl and decided to talk with her all the way back to the Gryffindor common room where again, you were no where to be found. Fred was starting to get irritated just wanting to find you and be in Youre arms. He turned to Audrey who kept talking about quidditch match “hey have you seen y/?” He asked interrupting her mid sentence “uh yeah she was waiting for you outside the locker rooms but then she just left” a frown appeared on Fred’s face you wouldn’t just leave like that you had reason “uh any chance she said where she was going?” He asked and Sophia simply shook her head no

Fred decided to look for you in you’re dorm knocking anxiously “Hey love it’s me open up please” you had been crying in Youre dorm but you couldn’t let me know that “one sec!” You called out as you quickly composed yourself and cleaned up you’re dorm a bit “hi Fred” you said once you opened the door. He just looked down at you and admired you, although it had only been a couple of hours he missed you so much. He bent down to kiss you but you turned you’re head the other way “um Fred I’m really not in the mood, I’m really tired” you said while looking down.

He flashed a sad smile at you “no intention dove I wanted to kiss you just to kiss you” he placed two fingers under you’re chin and brought you to look at him, but tears were slowly forming in you’re eyes. Once Fred noticed this he immediately started wiping You’re tears. “Hey hey love, it’s just me you’re okay it’s okay” you turned around ashamed that you allowed yourself to cry in front of him “M’fine im sorry im just-I don’t Even have a reason to be crying” you tried to laugh it off while Fred simply soothed you and brought you to sit down on the edge of you’re bed.

“Love I know you said it’s nothing and it’s fine if it’s nothing but it doesn’t seem like that, no one cries for no reason, so talk to me please, I’m always here for you” you tried you’re best to smile at him “m’fine i promise i don’t know hormones or something but I’m fine” you lied, he looked disappointed he knew you were hiding something and he just wanted you to tell him “so why weren’t you outside the locker room then like you said you’d be?” Fuck, lie quick “I wasn’t feeling very good I actually left a little before the game ended” you lied again but Fred didn’t want to pressure you any further.

“Okay c’mon let’s go to sleep” he said with a smile on his face. You two had gotten accustomed to leaving you’re belongings in each others dorm. You just smiled and nodded while he made his lips meet you’re temple before getting ready to sleep.

———-

The next day you woke up and reached for Fred, wanting to feel comforted. Only thing was that he was gone, he left before you had gotten up. Even though you guys didn’t have a sex you wondered why you felt used, off. But you got up and got ready for you’re day.

“Hey y/n!” Luna smile at you “hey Luna how are you?” You asked her and her smile dropped “i should be asking you that don’t you think?” You loved Luna but sometime you truly had no idea what she was talking about “what?” You politely asked. “Oh well I simply thought that you’re boyfriend leaving early in the morning from you’re dorm to hang out with Sophia wasn’t a very nice thing to do” Sophia, the blonde Gryffindor, what the fuck was he doing with her? “Oh I didn’t even realize” you told Luna and she simply frowned and walked away

You went through you’re day wondering what you had done to fuck things up with Fred. We’re you too much? Too hard to love? Or not enough and that’s why he spent so much time with Sophia. You’re thoughts were interrupted by Harry, “Hey y/n you alright? You seem a bit well, off” you put on a smile “yeah yeah im fine what’s up with you?” You asked “okay well you better be alright Fred said you were going to the party with him tonight” he said happily. Harry had always been a good friend so of course he didn’t realize what he’d said would affect you. “Oh. Oh yeah! Um of course I’ll be there” you said catching yourself. You and Harry continued walking through the halls when you saw Fred with his group of friends.

You’re face dropped and you stopped waking. “Um I’ll meet up with you later Harry alright?” You told him before turning away, but it was too late Fred had already spotted you and excused himself to go after you.

“Love wait up!” He called out but you continued walking.But of course Fred’s height and legs helped him watch up to you rather quickly he stood in front of you looking down to meet you’re eyes but you couldn’t look at him. Trying to escape you tried to go around him but he quickly caught you.

“Hey is this a joke? Cause it isn’t fucking funny what’s wrong?” He asked concerned “It’s nothing Fred I’m just trying to get to class go back to you’re friends yeah?” You told him “no no you’re not trying to get to class you’re trying to get away from me so can I at least know what I did?” He asked now pleading praying that you would tell him, but you didn’t if you were already too much why keep bothering him?

“It’s nothing to do with you okay? I’ve just been super stressed lately is all” you told him calmly finally getting the courage to look up at him. He frowned a little “okay dove is there anyway I can help, you know I could do you’re muffle studies homework for you” he offered “no I just need to resolve this on my own thanks though” you said with a slight smile. “ I hate to see my pretty girl like this okay? So truly if there’s anything you need love I’m here okay?” He reassured you, you simply nodded and said you’re goodbyes.

Walking through the halls all you could think of was how he called you “my girl”. If you truly were his why did he barely let anyone know? Why didn’t he show you off around his friends but was completely fine with touching you behind closed doors. Why didn’t he mention going to the party, one that he’d told Harry that you’d both attend?

How had you now ended up at that same party looking for you’re boyfriend. You decided to go to the party and finally explain to Fred you’re feelings and actions. You prepared yourself for the worst.

Even after preparing yourself-you got scared. As soon as you got to the part you started taking drinks swearing it was for “courage”.In reality at this point in the night you were trying not to see him

The common room was loud, lights and people everywhere. Fred? Nowhere to be found. He really never was going to tell you about the party. So imagine his surprise to see you

“Love?” He asked from behind you, you could smell the alcohol on his breath. Or was it yours? You were unaware at this point.

“Im so happy your here! Come say hi to everyone” he exclaimed. His face fell once he saw tears run down your cheeks.

“You don’t want me Fred. You don’t want me around your friends, so.. I don’t want you around me at all.” You whispered

Fred looked confused. Had he heard you? You didn’t stick around long enough to find out before bolting out of the common room.

———————————————————————

You woke up in Fred’s bed, how? Once you opened your eyes and realized where you were you freaked out, but the pounding in your head was enough to make you stay in his bed. He was in the shower, you had enough time to run out but you decided now or never.

He walked out of his bathroom with only a towel around his waist. “G’morning love, you doing alright?” You just smiled at him as he got dressed and then sat beside you.

“So, do you wanna talk about last night?” You made eye contact with him and nodded slowly. “Fred yesterday was not the way I wanted things to go but I do believe I meant what I said.” He looked confused “so you don’t want me around you?” Just the thought brought tears to your eyes.

“Fred I may just be dramatic but I tried to ignore it I really did, I tried to ignore the way you wouldn’t hold me around your friends, the way you never invited me around them, God I tried to ignore Sophia and how you act with her but I just can’t!” You sobbed

“Sophia? The way I act with Sophia? Love please explain I’m begging to understand you take deep breaths okay?” He said softly. That was enough to make you hide your hand in your face as you cried. “Hey, hey no let me see your pretty face, take your time. Deep breaths my love”

“Fred you know how I’ve been treated in the past , the whole physical affection thing. But you never touch me around your friends. I’m sure you don’t mean to do it to hurt me but holding me, showing me off or something would be nice.” You confessed while looking at the bed sheets, looking up to see him with a soft smile on his face.

“I love holding you alone as much as I love holding you in front of others. I have no problem holding you in front of my friends I just fought you didn’t want it! I know how you’ve been treated and I would never want to show you off like an object. Then I thought you would feel obligated for me to touch you so I’d retract. From now on I promise to always hold you in front of my friends, anyone, fuck even the entire world okay? I just need you.” He declared

“All I need is you.” He reassured

“Then what about Sophia?” You asked with your insecurities taking the best of you.

“What about her?” He asked confused

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately, talking to her and acknowledging her more in public than me.” You said with a frown on your face

“You even left your dorm with me in it the other day to go to her!” You exclaimed

“Your right I have been doing those things, if I can be mean with you for one sec darling she’s been annoying me. I don’t really enjoy any other girls company besides yours. So the other day I left our dorm early” he corrected “ so I could tell her to fuck off, just more politely of course”

You laughed, your tears had stopped, Fred always knew how to do that. How to make you feel better.

“So am I still yours pretty girl?” You laughed and kissed him in response

———————————————————————Today you were supposed to go to hogesmade with Fres friends. You walked in together, hand in hand. He made sure everyone said hello to you and most importantly. His hand was on you at all times.