Pocket Sized Satan’s blog You can call me Lesley

The Hall was alive with the cluttering of cutlery and the incessant chatter of a thousand different conversations but all of which was dully droned in Fred's ears as he sat staring to nothing with his hand supporting his chin; fingers clasped over his mouth in a bored way.

The light-hearted atmosphere mocked him. The spring usually held within each one of his steps withered and replaced by lead. His body was unusually tense and it was near impossible for him to sleep comfortably at night. He tried his hardest to remain upbeat and join in with the cheer and laughter but it was forced and tiring to try maintain that facadé.

Even spending time with Y/n, though he cared for her and only ever wanted to be in her presence, began to feel like a struggle. Just the thought of trudging up and down the Hill to and from Their Spot drained the energy from him. He was really struggling lately and didn't know why.

His friends had of course noticed the change, Y/n and George being the first to suspect something was wrong, but anytime they asked he'd simply brush them off saying "nothing I'm fine, just a bit tired s'all." They were worried about him but without Fred opening up about what the problem was they couldn't help.

But how could he tell them what's wrong when he didn't understand it himself?

A hand placed to his right thigh, squeezing gently, pulls him back to the moment: it's Y/n's. She's sat between him and Lee across from George and looking to him with a sincere gaze. "You okay?" She questions sweetly with clear concern held in her eyes.

Immediately Fred straightens his posture and perks himself up fakely. He smiles down to her with a nod, which does little to reassure the girl: he knows. That bright, optimistic smile he wore fades with a sadness visible in his eyes but he tries hard not to let it show.

Placing an arm around her shoulder, hand gripping her opposite biscep, he pulls her tightly into his side and rests his cheek on her hairline. Y/n's sincere smile grows as she relaxes into the hold.

Fred sighs, his eyes suddenly feeling very heavy and he doesn't fail to notice the way his muscles start to relax; like they would just before falling into a deep sleep. He wouldn't mind one bit if this moment lasted forever. Even the buzzing of voices which fill the hall seem to take on a far sweeter sound.

The pleasant melody of happy voices though is swiftly broken by a cacophony of alarms.

The school bells displeasing toll.

Y/n sits up in place, looking to the clock on the wall before she quickly starts to collect her bag, Fred's arm falls from her shoulder at the sudden movement.

Fred glares at nothing as a sharp discontent breath leaves his nose. Y/n mumbles something about hurrying to class as she stands, along with most everyone else, but he's reluctant to. "I'll see you in Transfiguration" her voice vaguely registers in his ears and he feels her grip his shoulder; thumb comfortingly grazing across the very base of his neck, before she's gone.

Fred chews the inside of his lip in agitation over the thought of the long day ahead he has to face.

As he walks with Lee and George from the Hall towards his first class of the day his mind is running with thoughts of how he can escape life for just a little while.

They just sold the last box of Fainting Fancies so that's not an option.

He could eat a Puking Pastel? But the thought of being sick, fakely or not regardless of how long he'd have to endure it, is completely unappealing. Plus he doesn't want to have to explain himself to George later.

Maybe he just skives for the day, to hell with the consequences. A detention next week is better than a day of classes today.

"Ah, shit." Fred grumbles, stopping suddenly in the middle of the corridor. George and Lee stop a few paces ahead and look to him with confusion. "What's up, Freddie?" George questions.

"I left my bloody wand in the dorm." Fred lies, hating the taste on his tongue and the guilt in his heart as he looks to his Twin and best friend. He'd never lied to them before.

"Want us to come with you to get it?" Asks Lee. "Nah, I've got it. You two go on and I'll meet you in class."

"McGonagall's gonna have your head mate, you know that right?" His brother laughs. "The both of yours too if you don't hurry along." Fred jokes walking slowly backwards with a forced playful expression before turning his back on the pair and walking towards the staircases. The second his back is turned his expression changes to one of utter distaste.

As he swings open the door of his dorm room Fred feels more than dead. He has no strength left to maintain his joyful disposition as he slowly walks towards his bed.

His body feels heavier by the second; as if all his strength is simply pouring out from his feet like water from a hole in a filled bucket. Mere droplets remain as he slumps on the beds edge.

He let's out a long sigh and falls back into his mattress staring to the top of his four poster. "Fuck class." He grumbles kicking each of his shoes off. He pulls his tie loose frustratedly and throws it towards his nightstand. Taking his wand from his pocket and holding it between his teeth as he rips his school pants off with a lazy lift of his hips he then summons his favourite pair of plaid pyjama pants. The next item of clothing to be deserted on his floor is the button up, which he sits up to remove, leaving him in a white t-shirt.

Fred moves to lay against the pillows kicking his legs beneath the covers and charms the curtains of the dorm to close as well as the door.

The dorm is painted in a deep orange glow from the little light which creeps past the heavy curtains, a similar shade to Autums dying Maple leaves.

Placing his wand aside he can't deny he already feels better, less like gravity is working against him and more like he's falling into sleep...yet true sleep won't come.

Fred lays for a while in silence, watching the flicker of cast shadows dance across the fartherest wall, begging for his mind to let him fall into blissful unconsciousness. Growing agitated by his restless state he rolls to his side and absent-mindedly curls into his pillow; hugging it to his chest with bent knees. It's only then his mind feels satiated and allows him to fall asleep, but not deeply.

Meanwhile, in Transfiguration...

"Mr Weasley, care to explain the whereabouts of the other Mr Weasley?" McGonagall's voice drawls throughout the classroom.

"He'll be along shortly miss, he forgot his wand in the dorm this morning." George explains to his unimpressed teacher. Minerva sighs "Very well. But if he does not return I trust you'll be competent enough to inform him of his detention with me this Saturday after breakfast?"

"You can tell him yourself Professor, he'll be walking through that door in any second." He speaks assuredly, looking over his shoulder to the door which remains closed, the hallway behind it scarce of any people roaming without.

With a sceptical expression McGonagall turns her back on the red haired boy and begins introducing the days lesson.

For the rest of the class George, Lee and Y/n's eyes continue to peer hopefully to the door. Y/n is sat to the front today with her friend but can't seem to focus on anything other than the question: "Where is Fred Weasley?" Her eyes meet with George's and both sport a similar questioning gaze as if to ask if they know the answer.

As class is dismissed and everyone stands to leave McGonagall is quick to remind George of Fred's detention, with an added sarcastic remark about needing to expect less from his brother, before he goes.

Two classes later, and still no sign of Fred, George began to grow concerned for his brother. It was unusual for him not to know what he was up to: if Y/n were missing as well he'd have assumed they'd played hooky but she'd been getting around with her usual routine so that obviously wasn't it.

When Lunch rolled around George decided to go looking for him. Parting from their friend group at the entrance to the Hall he began ascending the staircases with one destination in mind: the dorm.

Every search has to start somewhere and that's the last place he knew Fred were headed.

Within, said dorm, Fred laid with steady breathing beneath the covers of his bed peacefully and dreamlessly asleep for the first time in nearly a week. Which is what infuriates him most when a sudden deafening bang on the dorm's door pulls him from that blissful moment.

"Fred!? You in here?" George's voice calls as the door handle is turned and the door swings open, "You'd better be decent 'cause I'm coming in." His brother continues as he walks inside.

George's eyes scan the room landing on the Fred-sized lump tucked away on his bed and he releases a breathy chuckle at the sight.

"What was the walk up here too much for you, mate? We lost you before first class even started!" He rambles loudly walking further into the room to where his brother is laying with his back turned to him.

"Bugger off." Fred snaps tiredly lacking any patience.

All humour in George's chest and witty remarks lined on the tip of his tongue disipate at the tone of Fred's voice and the position he's in, now that he's able to see him better, he doesn't look well.

"Freddie, you right? You don't look so good." George voices with great concern. "I'm fine. Just...piss off, I'm not in the mood for people today." He speaks turning himself further to the side into his pillows.

George is taken back by his brothers grumpiness, looking to him with worry, but isn't quite sure how to react. "Yeah right, well...Come find me if you need me, yeah? I'll check up on ya soon." Deciding to give Fred some space he starts walking towards the door.

"Don't bother." Fred grumbles, that annoying restless feeling beginning to settle in his bones once again.

George freezes as the words register in his ears, casting a sad and confused sort of glance to his twin over his shoulder. Swallowing a thick lump of emotions risen in his throat George leaves feeling highly unsettled.

The whole descent of the marble staircases George couldn't help but rack his brain on thoughts of his brother.

A million questions were firing at once and he didn't have an answer for any of them.

What was wrong?

Did he do something?

How can he help?

Taking the final step off the staircase George stared conflicted to the dining Hall where so many happy faces were conversing over everything and nothing at once. His eyes locked to where his friends and family are sat together eating completely unaware of Fred's depressed state.

Should he tell them?

'What good would it do?' He thinks, if he didn't have an answer neither would they, and it's not his place to broadcast Fred's troubles...whatever they might be.

His eyes drop sadly to stare at the floor by his feet while he thinks, hands dipping into his pockets. Unknowing of what to do he decides to take a walk to hopefully bring some clarity to his busy mind. He begins roaming the connected corridors, passing by the courtyard. There's a few small groups of students about, soaking up the warmth of the sun's bright rays, but not many and definitely not enough to make him feel any less alone with his thoughts.

It's a sensation he weren't particularly familiar with: he always had someone to talk to when he needed to, be it family or friends, but right now he feels like the responsibility is fully on him and that there's no one to lean on.

It's ironic, he thinks, on any other occasion when George felt this lost in thought he'd go straight to Fred. Or Lee if Fred was with Y/n.

Wait...Y/n!

If there were anyone in this castle that could get to Fred at a time like this, it was her.

His head shoots up faster than even a rabbits could, quickly scanning the hallways around him to see if she's anywhere close, knowing she prefers to eat lunch outdoors away from people and that she'd be with her other friends today. He hops onto the low brick wall of the courtyard with his left hand lazily gripping it's large pillar searching the outdoor area for her.

Squatting slightly so he can see beneath the low hanging branches of the large trees throughout the yard he spots her on the far side by the water fountain.

He jumps down from the wall and jogs over to the gathered group.

Y/n is leant casually against the low lying wall, propped up by her elbow, as she speaks with her friends laughing at a joke that had just been told when George appears by her side.

"Hey" he greets the group with a kind smile before looking to Y/n.

He tilts his chin up, readying to speak, but Y/n chimes in before he has the opportunity to begin.

"George! Fancy seeing you here." She jokes, "Where's our little skiver gotten himself to? Not causing too much trouble I hope." She finishes with a warm smile that sends a prang through his heart. He hates to be the bearer of bad news.

George clears his throat awkwardly, "He's actually what I want to talk to you about, have you got a minute?" He looks to her friends with an apologetic but hopeful expression.

"Yeah, of course." Y/n answers excusing herself from the group.

"Only one though!" Her friend calls after them.

"We'll be keeping count!" Calls another making Y/n chuckle as she follows George, a few meters away from where they were to talk privately, Y/n casts a scolding look over her shoulder to her teasing friends but can't help giggling at their antics.

When George stops and turns to face her the happy smile she wore earlier still remains while his face contrarily appears impassive, aside from the glimmer of sadness deep in his eyes.

"So, what's up? You wanted to talk about Freddie, is he okay?"

"Well...not exactly." The boy grimaces and Y/n's face drops. "What's wrong?" She questions in growing panic.

"That's the issue, I don't know. For the first time my brother is struggling and I don't know what's wrong or how to help him." George sighs brokenly, the overwhelm of emotions finally catching up to him.

Y/n's blind-sided by this news. "Oh, are-are you okay?" She stutters in shock. "I guess, I'm just- Godrick I'm scared can you believe that? I could be okay if I knew how to fix whatever's broken in him."

"Where is he?"

"He's hiding out in our dorm and, from the looks of how he just reacted to me being there, he isn't coming out anytime soon. Y/n/n..." George takes a step closer to her, his hands coming up in closed fists while he talks as if pleading to her. "You've spent more time with him the past few months than anyone. Do you have any idea whats going on? Has he said anything or-"

"No, nothing. I've noticed how differently he's acted lately but whenever I ask he never says anything."

"Can you try talking to him again? Please- he needs help but I-I don't think it's mine he needs or...wants at least." He speaks sorrowfully.

"Of course I will." Y/n assures. "Let me just grab my ba-"

The bell for the next period of classes begins to loudly chime and reverberate off the Castles stone walls causing the pair of discontent teens to freeze at the sound. 'Shit' they think.

George fears his brother will now have to wait longer for the help and support he so desperately needs but Y/n speaks to erase all that worry.

"I'm still going to see him, George. I'll just get someone to cover for me: tell Flitwick I'm sick or something. It doesn't matter but I'll be there for him don't worry."

George releases a shakey breath but smiles feeling more reassured. Y/n's friends call for her to come for class. "You've had your minute, now come on!" One yells but this time Y/n can't bring herself to laugh.

"Get yourself to class George, I promise he'll be okay. I'll find you later to tell you everything."

A little reluctantly the prankster agrees and begins walking to his next class, Y/n quickly moves to speak with her friends and collect her bag. They agree to cover for her, thankfully, and so she sets off towards the Gryffindor Common Room.

Nervously Y/n approaches the bedroom door, behind which Fred Weasley has been hiding from the World. Cautiously she's raises her fist and gently taps it against the old wood before moving to grip the handle.

Fred's sat on the windowsill with a small blanket around his lower half as he rests back against the wall; his hands are propped by his knees. Anger quickly rises in his chest at the knock on the door and he whips the blanket off his legs, swinging himself up readying to chastise his brother for bothering him again.

"I told you George, not to check on-"

"Freddie?" Her voice questions smally as she enters the room.

"...Y/n/n." Fred freezes as he see's her. Taking a few slower steps forward, he stops at the foot of his bed, hand lazily bracing the nearest post of the frame.

"Is everything okay?"

"That's the question I'm here to ask you." Y/n takes more confident steps in. He slouches against the wooden post defeatedly, slightly looking away from her, he shakes his head as he sits on the foot of his bed and sighs.

"George sent you." He speaks below his breath with an unimpressed look meant for his brother.

"He's worried about you Fred, of course he asked me to come. But really he didn't have to because I would have come anyway, because I'm worried about you Fred. You haven't been yourself."

"Well, don't be. Because there's nothing wrong with me." He retorts defensively.

"Is it that there's nothing wrong...or that you're just having issues articulating what it is? And rather than trying to figure out what's wrong you're hoping and just waiting for the problem to fix itself."

Fred's mouth opens to speak but as he realises she's right and no words are coming to his defence it closes with a disgruntled sigh.

"You know Freddie, no matter how long you wait this problem isn't going to solve itself. You need to talk about it." She sits beside him as she says this, knelt on the foot of the bed.

"How can I?" Fred pivots his head in her direction but doesn't look to her. "I don't know what's wrong with me. This feeling I have, it-" his body tenses stressfully his hand coming to point at his chest and fingers curling as if, if his body weren't in the way, he could just reach into his chest and grab the problematic pit by his heart and simply rip it out; fixing the problem immediately. But he can't, so where does that leave him?

"It doesn't make sense." He mumbles turning his head back to stare at the floor.

"Explain it to me." Y/n prompts. "I can't-"

"It doesn't have to make sense. Just...the best you can. Think of the feeling as symptoms: as if you were sick and had to see a Healer, how would you describe it to them?"

"Looking to play a little Doctor, Y/n/n?" Fred smirks looking to her, "I could be into it." He speaks suggestively leaning towards her. For a moment it's almost like having the old Fred back but the playfulness doesn't reach behind his eyes. They still reflect that of a man who is tired and broken on the inside.

"Don't try to deflect the topic, Fred. We need to talk about this." Fred looks away from her as the words leave her lips hating for the moment that she can see right through him. Rolling his eyes to scan across the empty expanse of his dorm room his tongue darts to wet his lips agitatedly as his body lulls back to it's centre.

"Please Freddie, try...for me?" "Uugghh, not 'for you'..." he groans dragging out each syllable of the phrase as he speaks it. Fred drops his head into his hands, his palms dig into the sockets of his eyes as his elbows dig uncomfortably into his thighs at the pressure he's applying. The reaction brings a chuckle to Y/n's chest but she suppresses it the best she can: shining through in a reluctant half grin.

Fred draws a deep breath sitting back upright with heavily slouched shoulders, trying to find the words. Y/n can see how difficult this is for him, she etches closer reaching a hand out and gripping the top most point of his forearm to reassure him that she's here for him.

"I don't know Y/n/n, I'm just- I'm tired all the time and my body, Godrick, I don't think I've ever been this sore for so long. You'd swear I've been training for the World Cup for the past month straight. My shoulders and my back- Merlin, my neck! It's all so fucking stiff. And I'm angry all the time. I have zero patience for anyone lately; breathe the wrong way around me and I could just about snap. And I keep trying- I'm trying to get over this and be myself but it's just so hard. I'm so tired and...I don't know what to do."

A hand comes to soothingly trace circles across his shoulder blades as he speaks. Y/n presses her body up against his arm and rests her head into the crook of his neck as she deliberates over his words and he can't help the way his body pushes back towards her to be closer.

She looks up, eyes scanning his profile which is still tense and conflicted.

"When was the last time someone held you?" Y/n speaks quietly. Fred's expression scrunches in confusion "People touch me all the time, just yesterday Ginny-" "I'm not talking about small touches. Not hand grazes, side hugs or anything similar. I mean really held you. Close enough that you could feel their heart beating in their chest and your body melt into theirs."

Fred again opens his mouth to speak but no words come. He couldn't remember the last time he had that level of intimacy with anyone.

If he were honest with himself the closest day he could pinpoint to that feeling was the first day Y/n let him lay against her after Quidditch and that was all but a month ago; but he wasn't sure that's what she was asking.

The last time he is certain he felt held by someone was when he hooked up with his ex not too long after school had recommenced, so, many months now. Even then, did sex count? Yes, he felt physically close to them but there was no emotional connection. It wasn't as fulfilling as the memory of laying with Y/n was, even if physically he felt at a distance.

He remembers how badly he just wanted to pull her into his lap and hold her as close as humanly possible. To feel her breath on his neck and tangle his hands in her hair. To feel her chest moving against his as their breathing fell into sync.

"The last time I felt close to someone was...you. After that first Quidditch match. It was a bigger deal for me than I care to admit out loud and I wouldn't change a moment of it but a thought I can't help to remember is just how badly I needed to feel you, not sex just...to hold you."

Fred was squirming slightly in place at the thought, that same need building inside him once again.

These words are like the final puzzle piece falling into place in Y/n's mind.

"You're touched deprived." She mumbles over his shoulder. Fred's brows furrow and he turns his head slightly towards her as he questions "meaning?"

Y/n shifts on the bed, her whole body now closer to him than before; than ever before.

"Let me help you?" It's more of a statement than a question but she needs to be sure he's okay with this. Fred nods prompting her to continue.

The hand on his forearm slowly moves up his arm to her shoulder. Her fingers hook under his shirts collar and pulls the material towards herself exposing the soft and freckled skin of his shoulder. Fred's looking away from her still quite agitated but waiting.

Her eyes flick over his profile once again before looking back to his neck. Her other hand moves up so she can gently scratch her nails through the short hairs of his scalp in a repetitive way.

He feels her warm breath break over his skin.

Y/n places a feather light kiss to the furthest point from his neck, Fred closes his eyes at the sensation of her lips on his skin. She places another slightly higher then again in the point between his neck and shoulder just as lightly but this one sends a shiver through Fred's body like electricity.

Moving her kiss higher now she shifts her body to press against his back and her right hand snakes below his collar, fingers massaging at his shoulder briefly before dipping over to dance across the expanse of his chest.

Fred's whole body shudders as he draws a breath lulling his head back with closed eyes and he relaxes. Y/n's lips continue their climb to the shell of his ear before descending once more kissing at the one spot which made him react to her more.

A soft moan escapes his lips accidentally and she can't help but smile against him at the way her own body reacted to his sound and knowing she was right in exactly what he needed: touch.

"Fred?" Y/n whispers ceasing her movements against him due to which he grimaces. A whine echoes through his mind at the loss of contact and his head rolls forward in a silent plea for her to continue.

Y/n gently cups Fred's cheek turning him to face her. His eyes are so soft and vulnerable in this moment, in a way Y/n has never seen; her heart aches at the sight.

"Let me hold you?" His eyes widen per her request, concern shining within his stare. "Y/n...you don't have t-"

"I want to. Fred, you've done so much for me in the time we've been spending together, without caring how this change could possibly have affected you, let me do this for you." She speaks firmly.

His eyes switch between hers still unsure. "Fred...hold me." She whispers the words softly, like a prayer she's seeking his answer to. With her confirmation he all but dives his body into hers.

His head drops immediately into her neck as his arms latch to her torso. She's taken back slightly by the suddenness but quickly melts her arms around him. With her body being the only thing supporting the pair from falling into the mattress Y/n allows herself to sink back to the softness of his blanket, pulling him with to lay against her chest as she plays with his hair.

Some time passes and she isn't entirely sure he isn't asleep already.

"Fred?" "Mmm?" Comes his reply causing her to smile. "We should move" Fred begins to pull back worriedly, "Are you uncomfortable?"

"No! No, it's not that." She assures pulling his body back against hers. "It's just that you don't look very comfortable cramped down here." She explains looking to where his legs are still hanging from the beds end. "Don't be ridiculous." He says, falling his body completely on top of hers and pushing his face against her sternum; his long body now hanging in half off the bed and supporting himself by his knees. "I could stay like this forever." He tiredly mumbles.

Y/n chuckles at his words. "You can still lay with me, just come up against the pillows or else you'll be sore tomorrow." Fred nods against her weakly and reluctantly falls back onto his calves looking at her with a great tiredness. She sits up on the beds edge and smiles at how adorable he looks cupping his cheek; a hold of which he leans into.

She drops her hand to his shoulder and slides it down his bicep prompting him to lift his hand towards hers before standing and giving a tug asking him to do the same. She moves to the right side of the bed and begins fluffing the pillows and pulling the sheets back on her side. He slowly walks to the left watching her with a gentle gaze.

As Y/n removes her shoes and robe sinking below the sheets Fred watches her with a smile; she reaches an arm out for him which he takes and relishes in the feeling of her pulling him back into her open arms.

They lay facing each other, his arms encapsulate her torso once more as his face disappears in her neck. Y/n takes a minute to ensure his body is tucked beneath the sheets before nestling in against him and running fingers through his hair to lull him to sleep: into which he quickly falls deeply.

Y/n is all of ten seconds from joining him when a sudden noise outside the door reaches her ears. George and Lee are obviously making their way up the staircase.

With a flick of her wrist she silently wills the curtains of Fred's four poster to close giving them all the privacy they need then drifts happily off herself; comforted by his smell and the warmth and weight of his body atop her own.

Laying with him now, the feeling of his breathing fanning her neck, it occurs to Y/n; perhaps she needed this just as much as he did.