#harrypotterfluff

I take in a deep breath and then knock slowly at the boys’ door. No response. I knock again, and instead I hear a grumble. I take it as a sign to slowly open the door, I take a peek from behind it, and George is sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. Fred, on the other hand, is lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling. 

“Hey.” I murmur, and George tilts his head to see me from in between his fingers. He doesn’t smile at me like he usually does, and it makes me believe that this time is worse than the rest. Fred, sits himself up on his elbows, and he looks as though he’s in much better shape than George is. 

I purse my lips and look back at George again. I take a few shy steps towards his bed, and then sit down beside him. He shifts a bit to the side allowing more room for me. I look back at Fred again, but it turns out he’d already read my mind and left the room after giving me two thumbs up. 

I place a tentative hand on George’s thigh, and it makes him lift his head up from his hands. I could see the way his face was contorted, frowning, scrunched up brows, and his jaw clenched. I note the obvious, “You’re pissed.” 

I almost feel stupid saying it because of course he would be. Malfoy was out of line, more than usual, but instead of a few insults this time it resulted in a fight, and George got expelled from playing Quidditch for the rest of the year, and to make matters worse this is his last year. He replies, “I’m not pissed, I’m hurt.” 

It’s my turn to frown because the words that that git Malfoy said couldn’t actually be getting to him, could they? I voice, “George, you couldn’t actually care about what he said. He was just saying it to get a reaction out of you. His best insult was calling you a weasel, he’s an idiot for Merlin’s sake!” 

“Doesn’t make any of them less true.” He protests. I’m baffled by his response, I say, “No, they aren’t-” 

“Yes, they are.” He snaps, and he scrunches his face up, eyes shut in regret at raising his voice. He cups my hand as an apology, brushing his lips over the back of my hand before explaining, “He’s right. We are poor, and the clothes we wear are hand-me-downs-” 

I interrupt him, “I will not go a second longer listening to you talk about yourself, or your family that way. Money doesn’t matter as much as you’re making it seem. And surely, you’re not going to let comments from an idiot who cares more about blood status and money than what a person is actually like get to your head.” 

“But, wouldn’t you like to have more than what the money that I have can get you?” He implores, and I give him a weak smile. Raising my hands to cup his face, my thumb grazing the scratch that he has across his eyebrow. I say, “And we’ll have that, George.” 

I teased him a little more, “You still are planning to open the shop, aren’t you?” A small smile breaks on his face, and he even lets out a small chuckle. The air feels lighter around us, and George leans closer to me to press a kiss to my lips. I sigh, the feeling of it never gets old. 

I look down at his hands, and frown at the sight of the blood. George was the one who gave out most of the blows and punches. He was too angry after the fight, and left stomping to his room. I wanted to insist that he go to Madame Pomfrey for his injuries, but I could tell he needed some time to blow off some steam, that’s the reason why I waited before talking to him. 

“Do you want to go to the Hospital wing to heal those?” I ask, and he shakes his head, looking down at his knuckles, presumably, remembering that they were bleeding. He rests his head on my shoulder, and my shoulder is weighed down. He hums, “I’d rather not face anyone for a while.” 

“Don’t worry, I can heal them for you. Not as good as Madame Pomfrey, but it’ll do for now.” I decide, bringing out my want from my robes. I start to wave my wand at the cracks in the skin, and mutter small enchantments. The small ones fade away, but the larger ones leave small scars on the skin. I rub my thumb over his hand to signal that I’m done, and George twists his head to leave a small kiss to the base of my neck. 

I raise my hand to lift his head from off of my shoulder, and hold his chin, raising my wand to cast a spell over the scar that slashed across his eyebrow. I bite my lip at the sight of it. George questions, “What is it?” 

“You look so good with that scar.” I admit, feelings my cheeks heat up at the confession. He smirks at me, and I can already hear the teasing coming from a mile away. He grins and says, “Such a shame for you that it’ll go away in a few days…of course, I can get into more fights, so you’ll never have to do without it.” 

I hid my face in his chest in embarrassment and he wrapped his arms around me, laughing at my reaction. I mumble, patting his back gently, “Stay out of fights till we see what we can do about this Quidditch suspension, alright?” 

Your closest friend Cedric knows about your little fascination over him, but that's it. No one else. You often find yourself staring at the side of his head in potions class or marveling at him from across the room in the great hall. Fear surrounds you and a blush creeps up on your cheeks whenever Cedric catches you staring at the boy. You always glance around, hoping no one else saw you longing for the bleach-blond boy. Just the thought of someone catching you peering at him has your blood running cold through your veins.

To some people, it was easy to talk to someone. To get to know them. To befriend them and eventually fall in love with them, but it wasn’t that easy for you. You wished it was. You know you wouldn’t survive the heartbreak. Your heart wouldn’t be able to be mended if it was broken into thousands of pieces.

You had closed yourself off to love. You refused to never fall in love again, but when you saw him for the first time, you knew you were screwed.

Today was Thursday. It was the last week before Christmas, and all of your classmates were buzzing with excitement and joy. Classes had been busy as professors were trying to get in last-minute quizzes and assignments before winter break began. You had woken up this morning to find an envelope slipped under your bedroom door. Your name had been written across it in beautiful cursive. You smiled to yourself as you gently opened the envelope to reveal a brief note inside.

Meet me in the astronomy tower tonight at 9. -D

D? Who could D be? If it was Cedric messing around with you, he was going to get it. You neatly folded the letter and set it on your dresser before making your way to the great hall for breakfast before classes started. Cedric had beat you down there, as he was already sitting at one of the tables talking to a cute Ravenclaw girl you recognized as Cho. As you made your way over to them, a group of Ravenclaw girls surrounded them, taking Cho with them and leaving Cedric there. When he caught a glimpse of you walking over, he smiled brightly.

“What was all of that about?” you asked as you sat down beside him and started filling your plate with eggs.

“I asked Cho to the Yule Ball, and she said yes.”

“That’s great, Cedric!” you beamed as you gave him a side hug.

“So when are you going to ask Malfoy?” Cedric teased you, causing you to choke on the water you were drinking. Your big eyes looked over at him as you pressed a finger to your lips.

“Shhh, keep it down, will you?”

“Oh, come on Y/N, just talk to him already.”

“Nope. No. Not going to happen.” You said, shaking your head as you took a bite of the eggs on your plate.

“Why not? What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“Oh, let's see, I could make a gigantic fool of myself and then he would tell his friends and then the entire school would find out and I’d be the biggest laughingstock this school has ever seen!”

“Okay, jeez, calm down.” You let out a breath of air before continuing.

“Were you the one who put that note under my door?” you ask him.

“Note under your door? What? No.” Cedric and you had been best friends since your first year at Hogwarts and you knew he would never lie to you. You slump in your seat, putting your elbow up on the table and resting your head in your hand. You let out a frustrated sigh as you tried to figure out who could have left it. “So are you going to tell me about this note or…” Cedric trailed off as he caught you looking towards Malfoy. “Hello? Earth to Y/N!” Cedric said, snapping his fingers in front of your face to gain your attention. You look at him, startled for a second, before a slight frown forms on your face.

“I was doing it again, wasn’t I?” Cedric shakes his head in agreement as he gives you an apologetic smile. He pats your shoulder gently before asking about the note again.

“So this note…?”

“Oh, right, this morning when I woke up I found an envelope with my name written on it that must have been slipped under the door the night before. When I opened it, there was a note inside saying to meet at the astronomy tower at 9.” You tell him.

“Well, who was it from?”

“That’s the thing,” you sigh. “I don’t know. The person who signed it only put D. There have to be at least a hundred students whose name starts with D.'' You exasperatedly tell Cedric as the bell rings, signaling that breakfast was over and classes started in 10 minutes. You and Cedric both stand up, grab your school bags and file out of the great hall to your charms class.

The day goes by slowly as you wonder who could have left you the mysterious note. Finally, you make it to your potions class. You spend most of the time daydreaming about a certain blonde boy as Cedric takes notes and pays attention to the both of you. With five minutes left until the end of class, Professor Slughorn allows you all to take amongst yourselves as he discusses grades with a few students. You and Cedric mingle a bit before you notice a Slytherin girl walking up to Draco. She has tall, slender legs and beautiful hazelnut hair that flows down her back. She looks beautiful standing next to him as she giggles and flirts with him. You know Draco isn’t yours, but you can’t help but feel a hint of jealousy as the girl playfully nudges his arm. From where you're seated, you can hear the girl talking to him, asking if he has a date yet to the Yule Ball. He smiles down at her and shakes his head no. You know what’s about to happen next. She’ll ask him and of course, he’ll say yes and they’ll go to the dance together and then they’ll start to like each other and begin dating and at that point, you’ll just have to be homeschooled as there was no way you could survive seeing the two of them together every day. Tears form in your eyes as the bell rings and you dash out of the room and up to your bedroom. You flop down onto your bed as you cry into your pillow. You stay there until dinner is over, Cedric coming to check in on you and bring you some leftovers he was able to sneak to you.

“Feeling any better?” he asks as he rubs your back as you finish the food.

“Yeah, I guess,” you murmur.

“Ya know what? I think you need to forget about Draco. You have another admirer who wants to see you in two hours, so let’s get you feeling confident.” Cedric tells you. He’s right. You know he’s right, but how are you supposed to move on from someone so easily? You take a deep breath before looking at Cedric and giving him a smile.

“You’re right. Let’s do this.”

In no time at all is eight and Cedric has to leave to go back to his own room.

“Before I go, just remember to be yourself, and don’t get caught,” he tells you with a laugh.

“Thanks, Cedric. What would I do without you?” You tell him with a smile before giving him a hug.

“I have no idea, just be grateful you have me,” he tells you. "I’ll see ya in the morning. Don’t forget to tell me how it goes!” With that, Cedric closes your bedroom door as you try your best to put some makeup on your face before heading out to the astronomy tower.

The corridors are dark as your wand lights the way for you up to the astronomy tower. As nervous as you are, you try to remind yourself that this is a good thing. When you reach the last step, you take a deep breath before opening the heavy wooden door. At first, you don’t see anyone in there before you spot a head of bleach blonde hair looking down and reading a book. As the door closes shut behind you, he looks up, placing the book down, and walks over to you. This must be a mistake or some kind of cruel joke. Your heart races as your palms get sweaty as you blink owlishly at the boy before you. Draco. You gulp as you squeak out a quick sorry before turning back to the door and opening it.

“Wait,” he calls out. You hesitantly turn back around to see his face flushed, lip trembling, almost as if he’s nervous. As if he’s nervous of you. “Wait, don’t go. I know we’ve never talked before and you probably don’t even know that I’m in Potions with you and you have no idea what my name is but…” he trails off, bringing up a hand to scratch nervously at the back of his neck as he looks down at his shoes.

“Draco,” you murmur as his head raises. “Your name is Draco.”

He shakes his head, even though he yawned. The moon casts a glow inside the room that’s enough for me to keep working, I wouldn’t want to turn on the lights and wake everyone up. I say, “You’re tired, George, go back to sleep.” 

“I’m not tired.” he protests, and his eyes blink slowly. It’s been this way ever since I can remember. Every night before they go off to Hogwarts, we have a sleepover, and every night, I can’t sleep, my heart aching from the idea of missing my friends so much, and George would sneak in downstairs, eyes droopy and force himself to stay awake. 

“We send each other letters everyday.” I say, reminding him that we would still be close, and maybe reminding myself too. He lays his head on the back of the sofa and he hums, “It’s not the same.” 

“I wish you could come to Hogwarts with us,” he muses, and I try not to think about it too hard. My friends, my closest friends every year would go off and spend the entire school year far away from here, all the way in Scotland where they would learn magic and I would stay at home, missing them. He says, “Remember when mom and dad found out that you knew about us?” 

I chuckle, remembering the memory fondly. It’s forbidden in the Wizarding World for a muggle to know about magic, but one day, when I was I think eight or nine, I was wondering outside my home, and I noticed a tall large house that was leaning so slightly, and I can’t remember why but I went towards that house, only to be flung backwards by a mysterious force. 

George and Fred had stolen their older brothers’ wands and a spell had gone haywire. They rushed to help me, and they couldn’t hide from me the magic that I just experienced, maybe because they knew that I’d tell my parents who would eventually talk to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley who would then ground them for the rest of their lives. 

“We kept it a secret for a long time.” I add, it took them years to find out, and maybe it would’ve taken them longer if I hadn’t slipped up. George laughs, “If only you wouldn’t have mentioned Hogwarts.” 

“I was sad you were leaving! What was I supposed to do?” I exclaim, but my voice still low trying to be mindful of the rest of the members of the Weasley family that were sleeping upstairs. George shuffles closer to me and he repeats, the corners of his lips turned down, “I wish you could come with us this year especially.” 

We’ve done this five times before, but it doesn’t get easier each year. Why couldn’t summer vacation be longer than just six weeks? I mirror his actions, placing my hoop beside me and moving closer to him, our thighs almost touching. I ask, “why this year especially?” 

“I heard from Charlie that there will be something special happening, a tournament, other wizarding schools coming too…” he trails off, his eyes unfocused before adding in a low voice, “a Ball…” 

“A Ball? You’ve never had a Ball at Hogwarts before.” I note, surprised, from their stories Hogwarts didn’t seem like a place for such festivities, they always had to be the ones to liven the place up with their brilliant pranks. Another thought enters my mind, a ball is basically a fancy dance, and a dance means that he’ll have to ask someone. I avoided his eyes, trying to sound as casual as I could. I inquired, “Do you have anyone in mind…for that?” 

“Not really…I was thinking Fred and I could go solo,” he hums. I don’t think about the relief that I feel and I chuckle, “As if Fred would pass up an opportunity like this with Angelina.” 

He chuckles as well. Fred has never been one to be shy when talking about the girls he likes. He has been going around flirting with their entire Quidditch team, first it was Spinnit, then Bell, and this year it’s Angelina. I do think this time it’s different though, he couldn’t stop talking about her gorgeous hair all summer. 

“That is, if Charlie isn’t bluffing. He could be finally trying to get back at us, besides, I think this year I want to focus on our jokes more,” he says, moving the topic of conversation, and I’m grateful for the switch. The image of George dancing the night away with someone other than me, gets me all jittery. I ask, “what prank are you going to start with?” 

“Hmm I don’t know, but I was thinking we finally do the fake knife thing you mentioned.” he suggests, and I clap my hands excitedly, and I move closer to him on the sofa. I add, “The one where you and Fred fake a fight in the Great Hall and he ends up ‘stabbing’ you in front of everyone?” 

He nods, “I’m sure it’ll give everyone a big scare, especially the professors. Fred and I just have to figure out what to fight about, and set the scene well. If we’re doing this, then we’re going to do it well.” 

“Ohh, I wish I could see it.” I say, before I have the time to process my words. George doesn’t mind it, he reaches over to grab my hand, he says, “I’ll make sure that you get a video.” 

“How? I thought muggle stuff wasn’t allowed in Hogwarts.” I say, remembering the time when I tried to give George a pager so we could talk while he’s at Hogwarts, but it exploded as soon as they arrived inside the castle. He says, “Yes, but there’s this kid in Ginny’s year, and he always walks around with this camera of his, I’ll tell him about the prank before and I’ll tell him to take a video of it.” 

“I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.” 

“You wouldn’t be ruining a thing, besides, It would be worth it so you can see it.” he mumbles, and his cheeks flush. I’m sure mine are the same. I try to not move my body so he doesn’t realise that he’s still holding my hand. He whispers, “I’m really going to miss you.” 

“I’m going to miss you too.” 

***

I’m laying on the grass in the middle of the field in front of the Weasley’s house. Bill and Charlie are visiting this year and I decided to pop in to say hello. I always visit Mrs. Weasley throughout the year, she says it gets lonely without everyone around. I have to agree with her, the quiet during the school year is eerie and uncomfortable compared to the joy and noise during the summer and winter breaks.

Spring has only just started a few weeks ago, but the flowers are already blooming to their fullest. I close my eyes and breathe in the soft air that blows from above the hill. A shadow covers my face, blocking me from the sun. I open my eyes softly and see a mop of ginger hair standing over me. It must be Bill or Charlie, no wait, it’s- I ask, “Fred?”  

“In the flesh,” he says with a smile on his face. I quickly stand up and grin. I ramble, “You’re back, you’re back! You’re back early! What are you doing here, it’s the end of April? You still have a lot of weeks left in school.” 

“We left, we quit!” Fred cheers, he explains, “Couldn’t stand Umbridge in the slightest and we don’t need the degrees anyways, we won’t need them for our joke shop.”

“Ugh, it’s so great that you’re here.” I exclaim, clapping my hands together. Their new professor was an awful person, the things they told me about in their letters is simply unforgivable. I feel better now that they’re both away from her. I look around a bit, and I find that George isn’t anywhere near the field where we’re standing. I pout and ask, “Where’s George?” 

“At least act like you’re happy to see me a bit more than that before asking for the love of your life.” he teases me, a large laugh erupting from his throat mid way. My cheeks heat up, and I playfully punch his arm. I say, “I am happy to see you, and besides he’s not the love of my life-” 

“Who’s not the love of your life?” George says, as soon as he appears in front of me in a flash. I stumble back and place my hand on my chest, in surprise. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to his apparating thing that they do. My cheeks turn even more red as I wave him off, “Nothing, no one.” 

He turns to Fred in question but Fred only shrugs his shoulders, and sends me a subtle wink when George gives him his back. George finally looks at me and he smiles. He closes the space between us, and he covers me with his arms. I wrap my arms around him in a hug. I inhale the smell of cinnamon and fireworks and his cologne. He whispers in my ear, sending goosebumps over my neck, “we’re back…I just couldn’t wait to see you.” 

“You liar, Fred told me that you quit school.” I say, pulling back from the hug, and Fred interrupts the private moment, he says, “I don’t think he’s entirely lying, love.” 

George’s head snaps to his brother and he glares at him. A terrifying voice booms from the bottom of the hill, a terrifying voice that I know all too well. We all tense as we hear Mrs. Weasley shout out the twins' name. I ask, “I take it you didn’t talk to her about this before you left.” 

“I’ll go talk to her. You two catch up.” Fred says, while walking down the hill and towards the burrow. Mrs. Weasley starts shouting again, but the voices quiet down as they close the door behind them, taking the conversation inside. George sinks down to the grass, his knees close to his chest and his hands covering his face. 

“It’s going to be okay, George.” I reassure him, but honestly, I have no idea. Mrs. Weasley has often expressed her distaste for their liking for jokes and pranks and especially when they decided they want to pursue it as their jobs. I do think they can make a career out of it, but I don’t know if Mrs. Weasley will support them. 

I sat down beside him, our hips flushed together. I repeat my thoughts, “I fully support your dreams, George, no matter what.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he replies. He uncovers his face and the sun shines its bright rays across his face, making his beautiful brown eyes glimmer. My breath hitches. I only now notice the large scar on the bag of his hand with the words ‘I must not tell lies’. I reach out and grab his hand gently, looking over at it with concern in my eyes. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” George says, trying to make it seem like it’s nothing. It looks like someone carved the words into his hands with a knife. I grave the cut over with my thumb, holding his hand gently. The words are cut in deep too. I sigh, “George, this is terrible.” 

“Don’t worry, we rub an ointment on it every day, so it only hurts a little now,” his words offer little comfort as I gasp, “It still hurts?” 

The scar looks like it’s been there for a long time, it’s already started to heal. It’s no longer a deep red but rather a softer sort of pink. He chuckles nervously, trying to soften the blow, “I mean, no it doesn’t hurt, of course it won’t fade but-” 

“It’s going to be this way, forever?” I exclaim, and I take in a deep breath looking off into the distance. I always remember that as magical as their world is, it’s also very dangerous. I shouldn’t have to worry about them when they’re just at school, but I am, and with the things they’re telling me, with what’s coming. I haven’t been this worried since they were attacked at the big Quidditch game last year. George doesn’t answer and that’s all the confirmation I need. 

“I don’t want you to worry.” he says, and I look at him incredulously. Tears appear in my eyes, I wish I’d been there when this all happened, so I could’ve helped, but what help can I be with magical problems when I’m not magical? He pulled me into his chest, and I said, “How can I not?” 

“At least I’ll get to see you all the time now.” George says with a coy grin on his face. Yes! No more of them leaving for ten out of twelve months a year. No more weird letters appearing out of nowhere that catch my parent’s attention. I could even see them everyday. I laugh, “That is a good consolation prize.” 

I snuggle deeper into his chest, ignoring the way he tenses up first before wrapping his arms around my stomach. The blades of grass and the flowers all bend to the side as the gusts of wind wooshes through. I sigh, “I’m really happy you’re here, George.” 

“Can I ask you a question?” he says, and I nod my head, of course, he can ask me anything. He scratches the back of his neck, anxious, and he stutters a bit before tilting his head towards the burrow, he says, “When I was inside…Bill told me something.” 

Oohh no, what did Bill say now? All the Weasleys are such nosey people, I hope he didn’t tell George about how I’m madly in love with him. This could ruin everything. I say nothing, and it urges him to continue, “he said that you were dating someone, some guy named Rick or something.”

Ah yes, Rick, the guy from my A-level English class. He was almost nothing, I only told Bill because Rick once sent me a message when I was at the Burrow, and as previously mentioned, the Weasleys are nosey. I explain, “It wasn’t anything too important, it was a two week thing, at most.” 

George just hums, his chest hitches from behind me. He asks, “Do you…like him?” 

No, oh god, no I do not. I have not liked anyone other than George, but how can I say that, how can I say that to him without ruining everything. We’ve been friends for over a decade, just because I feel like I might die whenever he mentioned that he went to the Yule Ball with Spinnit or that I get so happy whenever he’s around and because I want to kiss him, always. That’s not a good enough reason to say anything that might ruin this, unless he gives me a sign-

“I really hope you don’t.” 

My head snaps to his face, my heart in my chest. He couldn’t mean… could he? I know George better than I know anyone else, and I don’t understand a single thing that’s happening. Why is he looking at me like that? My stomach tumbles like I’m riding a rollercoaster, oh, George would love going on a rollercoaster. I stutter, “No, I-I don’t like him.” 

“Oh?” he hums, and he’s not looking at my eyes anymore, he’s looking at my lips. I feel like I might throw up, my heart is beating so fast. He licks his lips, and I add, with very little courage in me but with a lot of hope, “I like someone else.” 

“Anyone I know?” George muses, and he tugs me closer to him by my waist. Our legs tangled up like some unorganised wires together. I place my shaking hands on his chest, and he looks back at me, waiting. I know exactly what that look is now. Before I hesitate, and while my heart beat is right in my ears, I say, “Just kiss me already, George.” 

And he does. 

***

It’s been two hours while I wait at the Burrow. The lights closed and the only thing shining was the moonlight. I’d open the lights but I can’t get myself to move from my spot on the sofa. The spot where I was when George explained to me that the entire Weasley family were going to go fight an evil wizard, never mind that the last time they ‘faced’ them, the Burrow was burned down. 

Nothing could make him stay, not begging and not tears. The dark and grim atmosphere is a sharp contrast to the usual happy mood of the burrow. I sat there for hours with one eye on the clock and the other eye on the Weasley family clock, each hand on the clock representing a member of the Weasley family. All the clocks pointing at Hogwarts and all of them still hanging on. 

Another hour passes, and I start pacing, maybe I should clean up a bit? The brooms and the dishes usually do their work with magic, but I’m sure I can still use them. I pick up the broom and start out with George and I’s room, where we’re staying when we’re at the Burrow. As soon as I walk in, I’m hit with a wave of nausea, looking at all the picture frames and the messed up bed that we were too lazy to make in the morning, staying in bed for just a little bit longer. 

The pictures of George at Hogwarts with the Quidditch team, pictures of our first date, and second and our apartment together with Fred above the shop, where I’m legally allowed to be, but that never stopped us. A helpless sob escapes from my mouth, what if something happens to him? He already lost an ear a few months ago, what if he dies? What if any of them die? 

This is a horrible idea, I close the door to the room and go back downstairs, I’ll clean up here instead. I clean like I’ve never cleaned before. Vacuuming, cleaning all the stairs, washing the walls, and dusting and anything I can possibly think of. I do the dishes and I look back at the clock. It's been three hours already, and nothing. They will be hungry when they all come back, I should make them something to eat. 

I should make something sweet and salty. I’ll make muffins and I should probably also make a casserole, or maybe they’d want something lighter to eat. Should I make eggs? But eggs don’t taste well after they sit for a long time, but why would they sit for a long time? They should all be back any minute now. 

Another hour passes. 

This one I spent crying, everyone in this family was a major part of my life. Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley who have been my second parents ever since I was eight. Ginny who is the little sister I never had. Will I ever get to see Ron and Hermione admit their feelings for each other? Bill who finally moved back home after years and Fleur who I only started to get to know better. Charlie who actually tried to give me a dragon egg when I was ten because I wanted one so bad before Percy took it away because how reckless is it to give a ten year old a dragon egg. Fred who has been my best friend for years and only finally started to live his dreams. And George- 

I keep crying until another hour passes. I hear a stumble outside the door of the burrow, and at lightning speed, I rush to see who it is. I swing the door open and outside it is Fred with bruised skin and blood splattered over his clothes and body. I sob and rush over to hug him. He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay. 

“Come on, I have to get you somewhere?” Fred announces, and he takes his wand out of his jeans and takes my hand. I look between his face and the wand that’s in his grip and the horror goes through me. Where’s George? I’m just about to say it when Fred says, “This is going to feel weird.” 

And it did feel weird. My body contorts and swirls and flips through space, and in a flash I’m in a new place, I almost throw up, the bile rising up to my mouth and I have to force it back down while clutching my stomach. How did they apparate as often as this did? This is awful. I regain my composure and I feel the gust of wind, and I notice that I’m standing in front of a castle that’s covered in ruins, I almost throw up again when I notice all the blood and a few bodies just a few metres away. 

Fred is smiling, that means that nothing bad could’ve happened, right? He motions for me with his finger to turn around, and I furrow my eyebrows before spinning to look behind me. It’s George. With all his limbs and only a broken lip, and some bruises up his arms, and his clothes covered in dirt and dust. I close the gap between us and hug him. I start crying again, and he tightens his grip around me, squeezing me tight. I sob, “you’re okay, you’re okay.” 

“I know this isn’t the best of circumstances but I wanted you to see it.” George says, and he nods his head towards the castle. I turn to look at it, the words clicking, this must be Hogwarts. It’s so much more grand than the photos. I imagine it must’ve looked better even before all this. He says, “I always wanted you to see it before…” 

He trails off, and I pull myself back closer to him, the distance unbearable now. I urged him on, “Before?” 

He clears his throat, and he starts another sentence, “I was going to wait, do it at a better time, but I- this day was not good-” he chuckles, he always finds joy even in the worst moments, but why was he talking like this? Is everything okay? Is he going to die? He continues before I break down again, “The entire time we were fighting I just kept thinking, Merlin, I’d be an idiot if I died without marrying you.” 

It stops me in my tracks, my mouth parts open. No way, right? No way. He takes a step from me, and I keep my arms linked to his before he releases it. He starts to lean down, my heart is lurching in my throat, no way. He sinks down on one knee with his back straighted, plucking a small velvet box out of his pocket. I hear a cheer and I turn around to fit every Weasley family member watching behind us; including Harry and Hermione. 

I chuckle and tears start to fall from my eyes. I wipe them quickly and a smile graces my face. They’re all okay. George clears his throat, and grins, he starts, “Will you-” 

“Yes.” 

“Let me finish.” George chuckles and a few echo from behind us the same laughter. I bite down on my bottom lip and George shakes his head fondly, he repeats, “Will you marry-” 

“Yes!” I interrupt again and lurch forward into his arms. The box almost falls from his hands as he catches me on the ground. He laughs and shrugs his shoulders towards his family, he whispers, “Close enough-” 

It was no wonder that his brother told him that this year would be exciting, and while Fred thought it would be exciting simply because of the triwizard tournament, something even more exciting is happening, and that something is wearing blue. While some of the other male Hogwarts students were looking where they shouldn’t as the beauxbaton’s students performed their elaborate introduction in the blue uniform with the short skirts. Fred was more focused on something else. 

She was wearing the uniform better than anyone else, the blue making her shine more than any of the others. She wasn’t in the centre of the performance but it sure felt like she was for him. Ron whispered (though whispered is giving him too much grace) beside him, “Bloody hell!” 

Hermione rolls her eyes from next to his oblivious brothers, George teases Ron, but Fred didn’t pay a spec of attention to the interaction between his brothers. As the students of beauxbaton’s reach the end of their introduction, Fred stands up to not lose sight of her. They conclude their performance with a bow and a smile. The boys holler with far too much enthusiasm. Fred only claps quietly, and stays standing up until George forces him to sit down. 

Fred’s cheeks flush when his brothers turn to him this time. George teases him, shoving his shoulder, asking, “so who’s caught your fancy?” 

The question makes more people from the table turn around to face them. It’s a rare sight to see Fred flush and look at his lap in embarrassment. Lee, Angelina, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Spinnit, all watching attentively. The persona glides back on and he scoffs, shrugging his shoulders slightly, “Don’t be silly, no one.” 

His eyes still trail to where she’s still standing in the ending pose while Professor Dumbledore kisses the headmistress of Beauxbaton’s whose name he didn’t catch, too distracted. His focus is pulled only by the jarring and contrasting fire when the Durmstrang students enter the hall, but even then, he notices her reactions to the Durmstrang boys, only a little green. His brain elsewhere until the students start walking towards the long dining tables, more specifically when the students wearing blue silk start walking towards the Gryffindor table. 

He smacks his hand repeatedly on his twin’s shoulder and asks, “Where are they going? Where are they going to sit?” 

“Didn’t you hear? Durmstrang males with Slytherin, Durmstrang females with Hufflepuff, Beauxbatons males with Ravenclaw and Beauxbatons females with Gryffindor,” George explains quickly, as Fred’s face morphs with horror. All too knowing, George says, “Don’t worry, what are the odds that she’ll sit near us?” 

The odds were apparently not in their favor (or maybe they were?) because instead of sitting in a cluster at one end of the table, their headmistress encouraged them to socialise with the students of Hogwarts, so they spread out all along the table. As luck would have it, she sat smack dab right in front of them on the opposite end of the table, smoothing her skirt with her hands before sitting on the wooden bench. She shoots everyone a smile while they all stare as if she were an alien. 

“She might not even know English, it’s gonna be okay,” Fred whispers to George, trying to calm down the marching thumps of his heart. The Weasley boys don’t know how to whisper. Her head snaps towards them and in a perfect King’s English British accent, she says, “I do know English, thank you very much, no need to whisper about me.” 

She folds her arm in front of her chest. Fred’s mouth hangs just enough so his lips part, it takes him too long to answer, so George takes the lead, “Sorry, we didn’t mean to be rude, what’s your name?” 

Her name drips from her lips as sweet as honey and as perfect as she is, less with the scowl that she’s currently pointing towards him. George gives his brother a look and when the response is still loading, he offers their names. Just as fast as he blinks, Fred switches his demeanour. A known and comfortable mischievous grin slips on his face. He leans forward towards her and says, “So, what’s Beauxbaton’s like and what’s a Brit doing there and not here?”

“Well, my step-brother went there first because he’s French and then mom decided it’d be easier if we both went to the same school,” she shrugs, the defensive attitude melting away. Dumbledore claps his hands and the tables flood with food, the Hogwarts students note that it’s more extravagant than their usual dinners. 

“Shame, I could’ve known you earlier,” Fred flirts, and she half chokes on the spoon in her mouth. She coughs twice and her eyes dart around, nervous, her cheeks flushing, the complete opposite of the guarded look she had. Fred grins satisfied when he sees the red tint to her face, completely neglecting his brother noticing his own flush. The conversation continues, “What does it look like there?”

“It’s a lot more…glamorous than here,” she says, looking around her, finally taking a good look at the hall for the first time, “Both beautiful of course, but Beauxbatons looks more like something out of an art museum. There’s ice sculptures everywhere, lots of big gardens and nymphs that sing music to us during meals.” 

“Sounds like better entertainment than this,” Fred jokes, looking around and she notices that most of her friends have moved from sitting next to the older years to the younger ones. She shrugs her shoulders and muses, “This is alright too.” 

There isn’t any other way to describe Fred’s reaction other than he positively beams, so much so that Ron snickers at him. Fred shoves him from underneath the table, it’s not as if Ron is any better when it comes to these matters. Fred clears his throat, “As for the gardens, I could show you around.” 

“I’d like that.”

***

It’s starting to become an inconvenience. Fleur is lovely, everyone is at Beauxbatons. It’s a misconception that we all secretly hate each other, but I might consider throwing myself from a large mountain into a cold ocean if another boy from Hogwarts or Durmstrang asks her to the Yule Ball in front of me. She’s part Veela and not to mention absolutely stunning, she’s just completely magnetic, but that’s not the problem.

I’ve been asked out plenty, though not by who I wanted. Fleur’s already secured a date with Roger Davis who she’s enamoured with. Elodie had agreed to go with the best looking guy from Durmstrang, though a little bit vexed because Viktor Krum was taken. George had already asked Angelina ages ago! The Yule Ball is only a week away now and nothing! If only Fred could pluck up some of the courage his twin had.

Exploring Hogwarts in the last two months has been incredible, as well as the first challenge (Though having my friend fight off a dragon was not as enjoyable for me as it were for everyone else cheering in the arena). It also helps that I have one of the most charming (and handsome) people I’ve met show it all to me, along with a secret trip to Hogsmeade.

He arranged it in secret, led us through tunnels when it was after dinner and curfew. The cobwebs were horrible but all worth the sight of the old buildings under the night sky while Fred and I shared a butterbeer. I thought he’d for sure ask me then, when he, not so subtly, asked me about all the guys that have asked me to the ball, and not just that, he also asked me what their invitations were lacking. I replied: 

“It’s not like I want something big, I would actually hate it if someone asked me in front of everyone, it would feel more like I’m being pressured, not invited. I think I’d like something more secluded, maybe just something we’d get, we don’t have to be alone or anything but it should still feel intimate. I just want to feel like they care” 

After pouring my heart out, he’d simply nodded and kept walking to show me where the best sugar quills were sold. I was left flustered and it took me a few seconds before I could get my feet to follow him. Maybe it’s taking him so long because he’s planning something special…at least I hope so. 

It’s too difficult not to think about when I’m on my way to a mandatory study session that Madame Maxime demanded we take with the Hogwarts students. Apparently, many of the students, myself included, in all of the schools have neglected their studies in favor of experiencing the tri-wizard tournament with all its perks. 

There’s even been some talk about some chaotic parties thrown by the seventh years right after the champions were selected that had resulted in detention for a week for everyone involved. 

It’s only a small up-side when Madame Maxime tells us that we can sit anywhere we’d like. Without a second thought I choose to sit with the Gryffindors, regardless of the fact that the horrible professor Snape that Fred tells me about is the one directing their session. Regardless, any time spent with Fred is better than time spent without him. It’s only slightly unnerving how much I like him.

The table is spilling students from each side, everyone cramped onto the bench, so I sit opposite to Fred instead of right beside him. It wasn’t as disadvantageous as I’m making it sound, I could sneak glances at him when he wasn’t looking; his hair, his eyes and his freckles, I could spend days just looking at them. I dream of the opportunity to be so close to him that I could count them. 

Unintentionally and hopelessly, I let out a sigh. It’s just then when I’m shushed by Snape quite aggressively though I’d take it over being smacked on the head like Harry and Fred’s brother, Ron. It’s then when I realise that Snape wouldn’t let us let a whisper out, squandering my plans of sharing whispers and mumbles with Fred. 

I’m not sure if he would’ve liked that, though. When I entered the Great Hall, I was greeted by his friends and family, but not him, not so much as a glance. He didn’t peek from his paper to even offer a wave and it left a pit in my stomach. He hasn’t so much as created a bit of mischief, which he’d adore, considering that it’s Snape that’s watching over us. 

It seems that he’s actually studying. He hasn’t lifted his head from looking at his paper and jotting down the answers with his quill. My own studies weren’t too long. I’m nearly finished with the work when I feel something hitting me on the head before falling on my papers. It’s a- small paper ball? My face twists in confusion, another one smacks my head. Frustration bubbles inside me until I hear a familiar voice going, “PSSSTTT!” 

I grin, looking at Fred. ‘What?’ I mouth, before looking back, thinking of our safety from the professor’s anger, finding Snape looking somewhere else entirely. I look back and prompt Fred to go on, nodding with my head. He grins and instinctively, I grin too. Along with some elaborate motions with his hand, and twisting his torso left and right, he half mouths-whispers, ‘Would you go to the ball with me?’ 

My smile drops while he eagerly looks at me. Didn’t he listen to a thing I said? It was only a few days ago, he couldn’t have forgotten? As always, the question prompts people around us to whisper to each other, some giggle and others just mumble. I can hear them speculating what my answer would be. 

I flush under everyone’s eyes. I don’t enjoy being the subject of people’s discussions. I look back at Fred, his eyes wide with anticipation. I can’t keep the frown off of my face. The pit in my stomach grew and it made my eyes prickle. I reply, firmly, “No.” 

I stand up quickly, gathering my items haphazardly, thinking of the absolute horror of being rejected in front of many people, and that I’d put Fred through that. With my head down, I hand Snape the papers in my hand, missing the answers to the last paper before I semi-sprint out of the Great Hall. 

***

“Hey, can we talk?” Fred asks me as soon as I walk out of Astronomy. In truth, I didn’t want to talk to him. It’s only been a few hours since he’d ‘asked’ me, and I need some time to myself. Not to mention that it’s past midnight and I’m desperate for some sleep, my eyes heavy with sleep and ache. Still, my heart urges me to nod my head and follow him down the spiral steps and to the left towards some alcove, one that’s only secluded now because of the lack of students. 

I chew on my bottom lip, feeling the lip gloss on my tongue. I shudder at the taste even if it does taste like vanilla. I fold my arms and lean against the wall behind me, looking at him through my lashes, waiting for an explanation. When I adjust my satchel on my shoulder, he takes it out of my hands saying, “Let me hold that for you.” 

Against my better judgement, it makes all sorts of butterflies in my stomach fly that die when just like earlier today, he’s avoiding my eyes, staring at the ground, the ceiling, the wall above my head, anything, just not me. I gulp when he starts talking, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable today…”

“I just thought you liked me.” 

Against my better judgement, and beyond my ability to control it, my face twists. My upper lip scrunches up and my eyebrows touch and I frown. The words are so inaccurate that it’s hard for me to believe them coming out of his mouth. I scoff, “That can't seriously be the reason why you think I said no.” 

He snaps his head up from admiring his shoes and he says, “It’s not?” 

“I do like you Fred, but I hate the way you asked me,” I start, and then I sigh, unfolding my arms and trying to relax my face, I touch my cheek before continuing, “I hate how you asked me. It felt like you didn’t even care, like you were just asking me for the sake of getting a date and not actually because you wanted to ask me. I told you how I wanted to be asked and you did the exact opposite!” 

“I do care! I only want to go to the Yule Ball with you,” Fred admits, and the heat crawls up my neck. It takes everything in me to hold my ground, it nearly crumbles when he reaches out to hold my hand. His long fingers, encasing my hand perfectly, the warmth, exactly what I needed after the long lesson in the tall tower. 

“I’m sorry…I was scared, I didn’t want you to say no to me, so I made it impossible for you to not say no,” Fred explained, and I blink a couple of times before I laugh, “Fred, that’s the worst logic I’ve ever heard in my life.” 

It makes a smile break out on his face, and he squeezes my hand, “I know, I don’t understand why I get so nervous when I’m around you.” 

“You? The Fred Weasley nervous?” I tease. He commands every room with ease, comfortable with everyone’s attention, he revels in it. His pranks are always done where everyone can see them and applaud. So he’s nervous? Because of me? His face turns the same color as his hair and he raises his other hand to rub the back of his neck, throwing his head back, looking at the ceiling. He chuckles, “Don’t you remember the day we met?” 

“I just thought you were rude,” I say, remembering his whispers to George, but now, it makes sense. His jaw hanging and the way he let George do most of the talking. Fred laughs again at my comment. A moment passes and then he says my name and adds, “I really, really like you.” 

“I like you too, Fred,” I answered in a heartbeat. The heat reached up to my ears. He takes my other hand in his and he promises, “I’m going to ask you again tomorrow and it’ll be exactly what you want.”

I nod my head and my cheeks hurt from how wide my smile is, and I can barely see his face from how the smile makes my eyes squint. It seems like he’s the same. He nods his head along the path and motions for us to start walking. He takes a big step with his long legs before I grasp on to his hand tighter, stopping him. He stumbles and I giggle before hesitantly saying, “Fred, I know this would be much more romantic after the ball, but kiss me now instead?” 

It’s so fast that I couldn’t take a breath before he twists his arms around my waist and pulls me flush against him. His other hand cradles my head and he slams his lips onto mine, my own hands finding his back and shoulders. Madame Maxime would have a fit finding one of her students snogging a Hogwarts student past midnight in the middle of the hallways. He mumbles, “Don’t worry, it’ll be just as romantic when I kiss you then.” 

a/n: I hope you enjoyed reading! If you think this didn’t completely suck, feel free to check out my other masterlists. You can also support the blog or buy me a coffee here.