#holyhead-hufflepuff

"No, I didn't because you don't need boomslang to make the potions I care about. I want to make people forget about bad times- not induce blistering in their throats until they chock on their blister pus." 

"Boomslang doesn't do that," you teased, sitting next to Fred and placing your arms around his shoulders. "Nonetheless, I see your point and agree that these exams will do nothing for your future."

Fred shrugged his shoulders, your arms dropping softly. "Do you, though? You, my mum, my family, and all the professors push school onto me. I'm not brilliant like Percy- Merlin, save his soul from the ministry- nor do I have some niche brilliance like Bill and Charlie. I'm a joke. My future is making sure people laugh at my antics and not me." 

You watched Fred and the way his lips pressed together as his eyebrows knit together. He was always soft laughing lines; you forgot how much he'd grown up since the two of you met. You forgot how much of his softness had been sharpened by external pressure and expectations. 

"Do you know what I see when I look at you, Fred Weasley?" 

"Someone who is going to fail all of their N.E.W.Ts?" Fred questioned back, avoiding looking at you. 

"Yes," you laughed, nudging the boy lightly with your shoulder. "I also see the boy who runs to crying, homesick first-years and shows them Whiz-Bangs. Or, the boy who acts "scary" to anyone who likes his sister but would walk through fire to make her laugh when she's heartbroken. Even better, I catch a glimpse of the thirteen-year-old boy who grabbed my hand and ran me down the hall so I wouldn't get blamed for a prank on Filch." 

"Actually, it was George. I just never had the heart to tell you that you got us mixed up," Fred laughed, his cheeks warmed with embarrassment. 

"Nope. You don't need to put yourself down and throw a pity party, Mr. Weasley." You threw your arm back over his shoulders, bringing him in for a side-hug. "If you could see yourself through my point of view, your ego would explode." 

"Please, I always have room for flattery." 

"I'm sure you do." 

"In all seriousness, thank you," Fred whispered, leaning his head on you. "I-I don't know what came over me? I have all this confidence in George and I's plan. We aren't the type of brilliant our mum wants us to be, but we have this dream and all these ideas. I just-my family means everything and my mum has the best intentions. If everyone pushes something at you- maybe it is for the best?" 

"Or, maybe some people aren't supposed to follow the pathway? Don't get me wrong, I will be a ministry drone for years until I get a position in the International Confederation of Wizards. However, I want that for myself. Either way, it's not wrong only if you want it for yourself and not someone else." 

"I wish my parents could hear you right now," Fred chuckled, his shoulders dropping. "I want them to be happy with me being happy." 

"They wanted nothing more than for you to be happy. It just takes parents a while to realize what will make their kids happy." 

You shifted to look at the silhouette frozen at the end of the boys' banister. You wanted to scream at him; tell him that waiting around for him gave you a heartache so terrible you couldn't lay without choking on sobs. The way he said it as if he hoped you were asleep made you want to wake the entire Gryffindor tower. At the moment, in that anger, you saw your mum. 

"Yeah, I didn't think that I would be either," you echoed, the anger replacing sadness. If falling out of love was a friend, it was a family friend.

Fred walked over to the couch, to the fireplace, to you, but he felt further away. "I, um, heard that you got your St. Mungo's internship letter." 

"I did." Three weeks ago, to be exact. "I meant to mention it to you, but, well, honestly, you have been avoiding me. Perhaps not consciously, but still." 

Fred's hand fidgeted with a string on his sweater— the sweater you got him for his birthday a year ago. The bright colors seemed dulled by the atmosphere. "It's not like I'm looking at the Marauder's Map to actively avoid you! Also, you can't act like this is all on me. You haven't tried to reach out to me at all. You don't even show up to meals anymore."

"Because of the sight of you laughing with Katie, Angelina, and George while we're eroding into nothing tears me apart." Your face was hot, but it was not dry enough to be entirely from the fireplace. "I would rather my stomach twist in hunger than my heart from another person letting me down." 

"That's not fair, and you know it!" A classic line.

"It is not true?" The tear and your "nonchalnt facade" were slipping. Honestly, screw being detached. If this relationship was going to burn, then you were at least going to scream in agony. "We're just another partner again, Fred! We're just another couple of teenagers who thought they could beat the odds; instead, they got their asses handed to them." 

"Maybe if you were always looking for a flaw, we'd be fine," Fred bit back, his face and eyes red. "I love you. You love being loved. You never truly loved me because you're so paranoid about me breaking your heart. Why did you even get in a relationship if you can't trust anyone?" 

"I-I" You were stunned, frozen in the Gryffindor common room. "I don't know." 

Bitter were the words that rolled off his tongue and the taste of honesty. 

"I did love you, or do? I want to love you because, Merlin, you're you. I-I just don't know. I look in the mirror and see my mum. I see someone is all in their head and is impossible to love." You were shaking and burning up as you took a step back as Fred took a step forward. 

"Stop, y/n. I know you inside and out. I know your laugh a mile away and can find your crossed t's in a pile of scrolls. I know that nothing makes you more like your mum than running away from this conversation." 

In the light of the fireplace and blurred by your tears, there Fred stood. It was the Fred you loved, the Fred who catiously took your hand and guided you through love. It was the Fred that was unquestionably deserving of a real conversation. 

"You're Fred Weasley," You sniffled. "You told me my hair was pretty while we cleaned cauldrons in detention. You told me that flowers couldn't grow around me becuase they'd get too much sun which is the cheesiest thing anyone has ever said. I love you so much, but we need to break up." 

"I-"

"No. I-I," you sobbed. "Merlin, this is hard. I-I want you marry you someday, to see your store flourish in Diagon Alley, to see you be a dad. I want you. I want you so much that I want time to process us. I want time to think about what love means to me. What this relationship is. I want you to experience all of life without worrying about me being a flight-risk."

"I want you to — more than anything — walking away from this relationship with hope rather than heartbreak," You continued, wiping your face dry. 

"I love you. I would wait years for you if I knew you'd find peace," Fred whispered, his hand reaching out for yours. "I can give you the space without losing you, can't I?" 

"No, you can't. I need to figure things out, and you need to live a life with so regrets while I do." You took Fred's hand and squeezed it lightly. "Fred Weasley, you have changed me life. You were the one who taught me what unadultered, honest love was. It's this. It's me letting you go."

"Merlin, Fred, I'm trying to eat, and the whole table is shaking like a leaf," you complained, placing a hand on the redhead's leg. You loved the Weasleys, but between George's loud chewing and Fred's nervous shaking, you were losing it. "And George, for Merlin's sake, close your mouth when you chew!"

"Someone's in a pissy mood," George frowned, taking another bite out of his cottage pie and exaggerating his chewing. "Did Joshua Gilbert explode your cauldron again? He's trouble- I know it because he's got to first names."

"Look who's talking- didn't the two of you just set off a dung bomb in Filch's office?"

"Us? Never!" George exclaimed with faux-shock, his eyes gleaming mischievously and giving away his lie.

"Okay, seriously, Fred, what's got your knickers all twisted? You've hardly touched the bread pudding, you keep looking off into space, and- and you like a girl, don't you?" You took the quick glance he shot George as confirmation and felt something swell in your chest- presumably curiosity. "Who is she? Do I know her? Are you asking her to the Yule Ball?"

"I didn't say I liked anyone," Fred exclaimed, tossing his hand up as if it was proof of innocence. "But, hypothetically, Katie Bell and I have been, well, I'm not sure."

You cocked your head to the side and furrowed your eyebrows. You hadn't known Fred or George for too long, but still, you'd been around enough to have seen something. Yet, the only time you could think of Fred and Katie being together was through Quidditch.

"So, she likes you?" You asked, the curiosity getting the best of you.

"You know how girls are," George piped in, writing some word in the sky with his fork.

"No, please tell me how we are," you deadpanned, watching George turn red and shrink in his seat.

"I just mean she's playing with him- talking to him a lot one day, then the next she doesn't even notice him. It's all mind games with girls- boys are just straightforward," George clamored, sheepishly grinning as you crossed your arms.

"Yes, because the way you talk to Angelina is so very straightforward," you snickered.

"Easy, y/n, it's that he's not straightforward," Fred joined in, "It's that he's not smooth. Though I supposed 'mghshsjdnch' is quite smooth if you speak blast-ended skwert or the delicate language of troll?"

"First off, it sounds most like elfish. Second off, I sent Angelina a note, and she's already agreed to go with me," George smiled, shooting a glance at Angelina.

"Well, Georgie set on a date, so you have to make a move, Fred. Or do you not want to?" Usually, you let the twins' banter play out, but the question had been on your mind and clawed at your throat. You were an absolute sucker for anything to do with love, yet, something about the question felt odd on your tongue.

"I don't know- I don't want her to say no, but I also don't want to keep being in this like standstill," Fred sighed, poking at the bread pudding in front of him. "I think I need a good way to approach it so that I'm not trying too hard, but also not making it seem too casual and friend-like. Damn, I sound like a girl."

"You're not smart enough to sound like a girl," you quipped back, earning a high-five and chuckle from George. "Okay, girl to someone who likes another girl, just say you like her. Keep it simple, so there is no way to make it seem anything but romantic."

"Boooo," George drawled, waving two thumbs-down in your face. "Bad advice- play it so that she can take it how she wants. If you keep it vague, then she can decide whether you meant it romantically or plutonically."

"You can't take advice from someone who doesn't know how to say platonically," you argued, sticking your tongue out at George. "Trust me."

"Oh yes, trust the girl who has only had one boyfriend," George whispered dramatically. "Don't forget he was a dunce, Freddie."

"He was daft, y/n," Fred chuckled. "However, I get where you're coming from, so I'll ask her tomorrow and let you know how it goes."

"You're following her advice?" George groaned, "Over your own twin? Your own flesh and blood? Your- Oi, Lee, where did you get that Yorkshire Pudding?"

You laughed, your eyes watching as George put on a show by chasing Lee Jordan around the Great Hall. The conversation changed, crowds dwindled, and eventually, you found yourself walking back to your dorm with the twins. It was strange; the night was nothing out of the ordinary, yet you felt uneasy.

"I'm not feeling well," you announced, parting away from the boys and making your way into your dorm.

It wasn't a lie; in fact, it was probably the most honest thing you'd said the entire night. Your mind replayed the conversation, and you felt as if you watched yourself reply to Fred. The reels of your night replayed in your dreams all night, leaving you unable to place your emotions and incredibly exhausted in the morning.

The ache you had felt as you tossed around in your bed left your mind in a fog, and as you stumbled to the Great Hall for breakfast, you hadn't even noticed Fred running up to you.

"Y/N, can we talk?" Fred asked, beaming at you as if he'd won the lottery.

"What? Oh, sure." You trailed behind the bouncing redhead, knowing exactly where the conversation was going. You weren't sure if it was the dread or the lack of sleep, but suddenly it seemed foolish of you to get out of bed.

"Okay, just give me a moment," Fred grinned, closing the door to the greenhouse.

You looked around, your eyebrows furrowing. We were miles away from the Great Hall; frankly, it was bad enough he was going to rub his date in your face, but to do it in your favorite classroom seemed extra cruel.

"Fred, you don't need to be so extravagant about this," You whined softly. "This could easily have been discussed over coffee- a lot of coffee."

"What? How did you guess?" Fred asked, his mouth dropping open. "I thought I threw you off last night with Katie Bell."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm here to ask you to the Yule Ball? I didn't realize you had such low standards- I mean, asking in the greenhouse is hardly extravagant," Fred argued. "George vetoed the idea of getting us both in detention with Snape, then organizing the potions closet to spell out Yule Ball."

"You're asking me?" Your eyes darted around you, waiting for George to pop out and explain he was practicing for someone else. "But- Katie?"

Fred burst into a lopsided grin, his eyes lighting up as everything started to make sense. "Katie is going with some Ravenclaw- I panicked when you guessed I wanted to ask someone to the Yule Ball. Please, Wood's 'no dating players on the team' policy is still brainwashing me."

"So- you want me to go with you?" You imagined you looked and sounded like an idiot, but honestly, the notion felt surreal.

"Yeah, of course, you're the only person I'd want to go with," Fred chuckled. "You're smart, and you have this kind of humor that makes it easy to joke with you while also not completely understanding the joke. I- I mean, you've been my best friend for what feels like forever, and I didn't ever really think you felt the same, but I had to take the risk. I meant forever in a good way just so you know."

You stared at Fred while he rambled, watching the way he talked with his hands and how his freckles seemed to exaggerate his expressions. He was so animated, so wildly himself, and you couldn't help but feel as if realization had washed over you.

"I like you," you blurted.

Fred stopped talking, his ears tinted pink. "I like you, too- that's where all of that was going, you know."

"Yeah, I figured," you laughed, stepping closer to Fred.

"So, Yule Ball?" Fred whispered, his hot breath hot on your lips.