âNot So Secretâ
The Burrow was louder than usual, and that was saying a lot.
Spring had finally nudged winter out of the way, and the Weasley house was overflowing with life: windows flung open to let in sun and air, garden gnomes yelping as they were tossed over the fence, and Molly Weasley humming as she chopped vegetables for dinner.
Fred, however, was sweating bullets.
He wasnât supposed to be here today. Or rather, she wasnât. Y/N Malfoy â a name that had no business blending into a place like the Burrow â had dropped by under the most casual, innocent excuse: returning a charmed pocket-watch heâd left behind after their last Hogsmeade trip. Sheâd planned to apparate in, hand it off, and be gone before anyone even noticed.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
The plan started unraveling the moment she arrived. Fred had barely stepped out into the yard to meet her when the unmistakable pop of Apparition echoed from behind the house â and in true Weasley fashion, George rounded the corner almost immediately.
Fred barely had time to stuff the watch into his pocket when Georgeâs voice rang out.
âOi, Mum says get your lazy arse in for dinner ââ
He froze mid-sentence, his eyes landing on Y/N. She stood perfectly still, looking only slightly less panicked than Fred, like a cat caught in a beam of lumos.
George blinked.
Y/N, to her credit, recovered first. She raised a single brow, cool as ever. âEvening.â
George looked between them, his mouth twitching slightly as he took in the scene: Fred looking like a kid caught stealing biscuits, and Y/N Malfoy standing in the Burrowâs backyard like she belonged there.
âEvening,â George echoed, tone dangerously casual. âFancy seeing you here.â
Y/N tilted her head, giving the faintest hint of a smile. âReturning something Fred left behind. Thought Iâd spare the owl the trip.â
George let the silence stretch for a beat too long. His sharp brown eyes flicked from her to Fred and back, piecing things together with uncomfortable ease.
âWell,â he said at last, âI hope whatever it was is worth all the trouble.â
Before Fred could muster even a half-baked excuse, Mollyâs voice rang out from the kitchen window.
âFred, who was that at the door?â
Fred cringed. Y/N, knowing the jig was up, lifted a hand in silent farewell and Disapparated with a soft crack, leaving behind only the faint scent of lavender and the sound of Fredâs stomach sinking to his shoes.
âFriend from school!â Fred called back, a little too loudly, turning to find George still staring at him.
George folded his arms. âFriend, huh?â
Fred sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. âAlright, look. I was going to tell you. I just⊠didnât.â
George snorted. âYou think Iâm daft? The way you looked at her just now, mate â Merlinâs beard, you might as well have been carrying a banner that said âI fancy her.ââ
Fred groaned. âGeorgeââ
But George just clapped a hand on his shoulder, and his voice, when it came, was surprisingly gentle.
âMalfoy, though? Bloody hell. You donât half make things interesting.â
Before Fred could respond, the kitchen door banged open. Ginny poked her head out, squinting into the evening light.
âWho was that? Thought I saw someone standing with you.â
Fred froze. George, bless his soul, didnât miss a beat.
âJust some owl delivery. Wrong house.â
Ginny frowned, clearly suspicious but not invested enough to argue. She disappeared back inside.
George turned back to Fred with a smirk. âYouâre lucky Iâm good under pressure.â
Fred let out a laugh, more nervous than amused. âI owe you one.â
âYou owe me more than one, mate,â George said, tapping his temple. âBut youâd better tell the rest of the family before someone else catches her here. You know Mumâs got eyes like a hawk.â
Fred never got the chance to come clean on his own terms.
Two days later, it happened. Spectacularly.
It was a Sunday. Sundays at the Burrow meant two things: laundry flapping on the line, and the entire house crammed around the table for Mollyâs roast dinner. Fred had managed to go about the day with relative calm, though the memory of Y/Nâs visit still sat sharp in his mind.
After the plates were cleared, Arthur decided to fiddle with his latest Muggle gadget: an old two-way mirror heâd enchanted to work like a Muggle âvideo phone.â Everyone took turns poking at it, half-bored, until George, grinning devilishly, swiped it from Percyâs hands.
âLetâs see if this thing can make prank calls,â he joked, tapping the side of the mirror as if dialing.
But the mirror, apparently still linked to its last user, flickered to life on its own.
Fred froze the moment the glass brightened. There, clear as day, was Y/N â sitting comfortably in her room, brushing her hair. The golden âMâ crest on the bedpost behind her was unmistakable.
The room went silent.
She hadnât noticed the connection yet, humming softly to herself, until Arthur, squinting, leaned in.
âIsnât thatâ?â
Y/N glanced at the mirror, blinked, and then her face went from curious to horrified in half a heartbeat.
âFred,â she said flatly.
Fred buried his face in his hands.
Y/N, ever the composed Slytherin, straightened her posture and gave the mirror an unflinching, if slightly resigned, smile. âWell. I suppose the secretâs out.â
There was a long, long pause.
Molly was the first to speak, her voice barely above a whisper. âYouâre dating a Malfoy.â
It wasnât a question.
Fred looked up sheepishly, ears burning. âYeah. I am.â
For a moment, no one moved. Then, slowly, George leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head, whistling low under his breath.
âI knew it,â he muttered, more proud than surprised.
Ronâs mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish, Hermione beside him looked vaguely scandalized, and Ginny wore an expression that landed somewhere between âdisappointed sisterâ and âimpressed troublemaker.â
Arthur, bless him, only adjusted his glasses and gave Fred a measured look. âShe seems polite.â
Molly, on the other hand, looked like she needed to sit down, which she did, rather heavily.
âOf all the girls in Britain, Fred,â she said, shaking her head, though her voice was more baffled than angry. âA Malfoy?â
Fred rubbed the back of his neck, shifting in his chair like it was covered in spikes. âSheâs not like them, Mum. I swear. Sheâs smart, and funny, and â I donât know. Sheâs different.â
Y/N, still visible in the mirror, raised a brow at the understatement but said nothing, waiting.
Arthur cleared his throat, glancing between his wife and the mirror. âWell, dear, it seems Fredâs already made up his mind. And if the girlâs willing to put up with this lot, she must have some patience.â
Molly looked at her son, then at the girl in the mirror. Mauve held her gaze, calm and unapologetic. Finally, Molly exhaled a long, slow breath.
âI suppose Iâll have to meet you properly then, wonât I?â
Y/N smiled, sharp but sincere. âIâd like that, Mrs. Weasley.â
When the mirror blinked dark again, the room buzzed back to life, half the family talking over each other, and Fred sat there, still stunned but oddly lighter.
Later that night, Fred found George leaning against the back garden fence, hands stuffed into his pockets.
âYouâre braver than I gave you credit for,â George said without turning around. âNot for dating her â for hiding it from Mum.â
Fred chuckled, joining him, the night cool and soft around them. âYouâre not angry?â
George shook his head. âNah. I figured it out the second I saw you two in the yard. Malfoy or not, I havenât seen you this stupidly happy in years.â
Fred smiled, the tension finally bleeding out of his shoulders. âItâs serious, you know.â
âI know,â George said simply. âAnd Iâm glad.â
The two of them stood there a while longer, watching the stars blink awake in the darkening sky.
And for the first time in weeks, Fred knew â really knew â that everything was going to be alright.
















