#(lie)

- Summary: When Fred discovers you’ve been secretly working with the Order behind his back, your relationship shatters under the weight of a lie meant to protect him. “You made me your enemy the moment you lied,” he says, walking away. Only later does he learn the truth, that your lie saved his brother’s life, and broke your own heart in the process.

- Word count: 655

- Pairing: Reader x Fred Weasley

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It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You’d told yourself you were doing the right thing, that protecting Fred was worth whatever came after.

But now, standing in the middle of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, with his fury crackling like a live wire in the air, you weren’t so sure.

The fight had started small, a question, a hesitation, a look too long on your face. Fred had always been perceptive; he could read you better than anyone. You’d forgotten that truth when you tried to keep your secret.

He’d noticed the letters first. The ones you’d been receiving from Order members. The ones you tried to hide, burned before he could see.

You’d been tasked with passing information, discreetly, quietly, to keep people safe, including Fred himself. But it wasn’t official. You weren’t supposed to be involved. McGonagall had warned you: “No one can know, especially not the Weasleys.”

And Fred… Fred had always hated being left out of a plan.

“What were you thinking?” His voice echoed through the shop, sharp and incredulous. “Spying? For the bloody Order? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

You took a step forward, your voice shaking. “It wasn’t about not trusting you-”

“Then what was it about?”

“I was protecting you!” you burst out. “They were watching you, Fred the Ministry, the ones who think you and George are trouble. They would’ve used me to get to you if they knew I was with you!”

Fred’s laugh was hollow. “So you lied instead? You thought that would make it better?”

“I thought it would keep you safe!”

He took a step closer, and for the first time, you saw how much it hurt him. His eyes weren’t just angry, they were broken. “You think I needed protecting from you?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

“Merlin, I told George you were different,” he said, voice cracking. “That you weren’t like everyone else who walked away when things got complicated. That you believed in us.”

“I do,” you whispered. “Fred, I still do.”

He looked at you for a long, terrible moment. Then he shook his head. “No,” he said finally, voice low, trembling. “You made me your enemy the moment you lied.”

It was like the floor disappeared beneath you.

You opened your mouth, to apologize, to explain, to beg, but he’d already turned away. His hands were shaking, his shoulders tense. You reached out, but your fingers brushed only air.

“Fred-”

“Don’t.” His voice cracked. “Don’t make it worse.”

And then he walked into the back room, the door closing softly behind him. That small, quiet sound was somehow worse than if he’d slammed it.

You stood alone in the shop long after he’d gone. The lights flickered softly above. The faint smell of gunpowder and sugar lingered in the air.

You thought about every moment you’d ever shared, his laughter, his teasing, the way he’d pull you close when no one was looking. How he’d once told you, “You’re my favorite kind of chaos.”

And now… you’d become the very thing he hated most.

Still, as the night crept on, you knew you’d make the same choice again. You’d rather lose his trust than risk his life.

That was the truth he didn’t see, the one that cut the deepest of all.

Weeks later, long after the war had ended and the fires of battle had dimmed, Fred would find out what you’d done. He’d learn that your secret letters had saved half the DA from being ambushed. That one of them, the warning you sent on a cold March night, had saved George’s life.

He’d find your handwriting on the parchment, your initials scrawled in the corner. And when he did, he’d sit down hard, eyes burning, because suddenly all that anger would twist into something worse: regret.