#hp

“But, you don’t understand-”

“Besides you should be in study groups-”

“It’s our friend!” One of them shouted. 

Only then did you notice their rather panicked expressions as they looked between each other. From your judgements, one had been told not to say anything, the other didn’t want to hurt either friend and the other spoke up. 

“What is it?”

The third one, a brown haired girl, knocked her lightly. “Shush. Ginny said not to tell.”

“But she might be able to help,” the blonde haired girl whispered. 

From their house colours and the name Ginny, you knew exactly who they were talking about. 

“What’s going on?” You asked. 

“Sarah, don’t.”

Sarah looked between her friends before looking back at you. Then she gave in. “Ginny’s in the girl’s bathroom, crying. She said to go and get her brothers.”

“Why is she crying?” 

She might have been a Weasley, but she’d never once acted out like her brothers. And you, too, had once been the first year crying in the bathroom. 

“She’s…she’s started.”

You looked between the three girls. 

“Started?” 

They all nodded.

“Alright. Her brother’s won’t be much help with this.”

“But-”

You nodded. “Still go and get them. Fred and George should be inside the Great Hall. You,” you pointed to the quiet girl at the end. “Come with me. We’re gonna help Ginny.”

Five minutes later, you were inside the girl’s bathroom. You could hear the shaky sniffles of Ginny from the end cubicle. 

“Guard the door. Wait for your friends.”

The young girl nodded, taking her role very seriously as she waited for her friends and Ginny’s brothers. 

You knocked twice. “Ginny?”

“I-I…yes?”

“It’s Y/n,” you told her, your voice calm and soft. “I found your friends in the hallway.”

“I said not to tell anybody!”

“Don’t blame them,” you told her. “Blame me. I forced it out of them.”

“Where are my brothers?”

“They’re on their way, don’t worry. I figured you might want to talk to a girl first. We tend to know more about these things than boys do.”

You heard Ginny sniffle again. “I-I just felt it and I didn’t know what to do. My mum said it wouldn’t happen for another two years.”

“Well, sometimes these things don’t exactly go to plan. But it’s nothing to be scared of. It just means that for one week every month or so, you’re just able to eat as much ice cream as you want and can spend the entire weekend in bed.”

“Y-Yeah. My mum said…she said something about that.” The young girl sniffed again. “But…I don’t know what to do. It’s…I think it’s stained…”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll wash right out. Do you have any pads?”

Ginny shook her head behind the door. “N-no.”

“No bother,” you said before pulling out your wand and laying your bag on the floor. “Accio.”

From the depths of your bag, a square tin came flying up. Catching it before it clattered onto the ground, you opened it up before passing her a pad under the door. 

“It’s pretty easy to understand. Just open, peel and stick.” You explained just before you heard thundering footsteps. 

“Ginny?!”

“Let him in, Orla,” you called out to the young girl by the door. 

Rounding the corner, you saw Fred Weasley standing at the end of the cubicle hallway. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping. Give me your robes.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Pulling the long black robes from his body, revealing exactly what you expected to find – a messy uniform – you called back to Ginny. 

“Ginny, your brother is here. I’m gonna hand you his robes. Just wrap them around yourself when you’re ready to come out.”

“What’s going on? The kids froze when I asked.”

“She’s started her period,” you whispered to him. “She’s a little scared, and probably in pain. Take this,” you said as you handed him your emergency period kit. “There are extra pads in there. If she starts in pain, send one of the girls to Madam Pomfry. She’ll get her some pain medication. And, if it gets really bad, a hot water bottle always helps with the cramps.”

“What?”

You sighed, “Fred, honestly. It’s natural. She’s earlier than she expected, but she’s going to be perfectly fine. You don’t need to do much besides be there for her if she wants you.”

“No, I know that. But…you helped her?”

You nodded. “You’ll be surprised to learn that girls help each other when it comes to these things, no matter the rivalries they have with their older siblings.”

Fred stood in shock as you packed up your things. “Ginny, I’m gonna leave you with your brother, but if you have any questions…feel free to come and find me.”

“O-okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Bidding Fred a silent goodbye, you took your leave and headed back towards the Great Hall, passing a slightly panicked George on the way. 

“Down the hall and to the left. Fred is already there. Ginny is fine, just don’t make a loud fuss.”

George nodded. “Okay. Okay. Thank you.”

Even though you’d told Ginny to come and find you if she had any questions, you hadn’t actually expected her to. Quite frankly, you thought after you left, Fred might have scolded her into accepting your help, telling her you’re nothing more than a Parseltongue Slytherin. 

Surprisingly, he didn’t. Or, maybe he did, but Ginny decided to make her own judgement. 

You were walking out of your dormitory when you heard the end of Draco saying, “...filthy Weasley.”

“Draco!” You shouted as you spotted him standing at the door. “Find something more useful to do with your time before I send your mother a letter about your behaviour. No doubt she’ll send you back a howler.”

Draco turned pale and stalked away with his friends as you turned towards the door to find, “Ginny!”

“I-I’m sorry. I just…I’m sorry.”

She took off running in the opposite direction. 

“Wait!” You called after her, leaving the Slytherin door to close itself. “Ginny, wait.”

Eventually, she stopped and turned around to face you. “I-”

But where maybe she had expected you to be mad at her, you just smiled warmly. “How about we go for a walk?”

Ginny nodded, falling into step beside you as you took her on the quieter walk through the school and towards the benches outside the courtyard. She asked you a million different questions, and you explained everything to the best of your ability. 

How periods were different for everyone, pain could be small or it could be too much to handle. You explained the biology behind it and why sometimes she might feel angry for no reason, or sad for no reason. You also told her how it’s not something she should be embarrassed about, and if she ever is in need of some help, any girl in the bathroom will help…apart from Moaning Myrtle. Mostly because she’s a ghost and can’t do much. 

“I asked Fred and George but they just…went quiet.”

“That’s a first.”

Ginny chuckled. “They’re not so bad. I mean…they tried. How come you know all about this stuff? There isn’t exactly a muggle biology class.”

“You’re right, there’s not. But, I went to a muggle school.”

“You’re a half-blood?”

You nodded. “My mum was in Ravenclaw when she was at school. Taught me everything I know.”

“Even about…this stuff?”

You nodded. “Not because she was a Ravenclaw, but because there was a chance she’d have a muggle daughter. If I wasn’t at Hogwarts, I’d be at an ordinary high school where they teach about it a little more than they do here.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “But just because you know, doesn’t mean you’re not scared. I got mine in my first year, too. But I didn’t have any friends or brothers to help me.”

“So what did you do?”

“Cried.” You answered honestly. “But once I stopped long enough to breathe, I started thinking resourcefully. If I was at muggle school, I’d be in the same predicament. It was no different here than there.”

Ginny nodded, listening to your every word. 

“You’ll find it gets a little tedious eventually. But, you’ll also find it has its own superpowers. Like shutting your brothers up if they’re being far too annoying for you to put up with.”

Ginny giggled and looked out to the empty courtyard. “Thank you, Y/n. It’s nice to have a girl to talk to about this stuff. I have mum but I don’t exactly have sisters.”

You smiled. “If you ever need any help, just come and get me. Don’t be afraid, Ginny. And if Draco starts, just tell him to piss off. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’s more scared of his own shadow.”

Ginny laughed again before spotting her friends. She thanked you once more before running back to her friends, but not before she turned around and surprisingly hugged you, tight. 

“Bye.”

Joining her friends, you sat back for a moment, taking in the quiet and the fact that Ginny had hugged you. You’d always wondered what it would have been like to have younger siblings to help. Was this the feeling? The…happiness?

But it didn’t last long, because barely thirty seconds later, Fred Weasley was jumping over the back of the bench and sitting beside you. 

“Did I just see my sister hug you?”

You turned and looked at him. “What do you want, Weasley?”

“Whoa, hey, hold the hostility for a second. I just wanted to thank you. For helping Ginny yesterday. Like you said, we might have a rivalry of sorts, but…she’s my little sister and you helped her. So…thank you.”

You were slightly taken aback. In the four years you’d known Fred Weasley, not once had your words with him been calm ones. Let alone nice ones. 

“Oh. Well…you’re welcome…I guess.”

“And not to sound like some ‘bone headed, misogynistic ass’ but…you should smile more.” Fred smiled. “Smiling suits you more than scowling. Have a nice day.”

For the first time, you’d heard real sincerity in Fred’s voice when he talked to you. And, quite frankly, you didn’t know how to react beyond stunned silence and the overthinking of, “What the hell does that mean?”. 

Over the course of the year, more and more of those moments started happening between yourself and Fred Weasley. 

First it was with Ginny, then it was with Snape’s potion class and essay; a Slytherin boy had accused him of cheating. But Fred had been stationed at your table the entire time. He hadn’t cheated once. He was…just really good at potions. 

Then came the real change. 

Throughout the year, more and more first and second years came to you for help. They wanted to actually know what was happening to them. So, after the tenth girl came up to you, you’d asked if you could hold a small talk for the girls after classes.

McGonnagall and Madam Pomfry agreed, even making some different and up-to-date pamphlets on the situation. But, the longer the talks were held, you found a few boys lingering outside the classroom. 

At first, you and some of the other older years figured it was so they could snigger and mock the girls. That was, until one afternoon during set-up, you found Fred Weasley sat on one of the rows. 

“What are you doing in here?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond, already feeling tired. “Look, if you’re here to take the piss-”

Fred stood, walking over to you. “I’m not here for that. I wanted to talk to you. About it.”

“About it?”

“This,” Fred gestured. “And about some of the boys. Look, I understand why this is for girls, but I was more in the dark than Ginny was when she started. And I know a lot of the guys in this school have younger sisters or even nieces. They wanna learn, too. They want to know how they can help. It’s not like we’re born with this information, and because we don’t have them, we’re not told about them. I think…I think that should change.”

You were shocked at Fred’s sentiment. But, deep down, you agreed with it. 

“One boy takes the piss and-”

Fred smiled. “I’ll chuck him out, myself. You have my word.”

Your eyes narrowed at him as he held his hand over his heart, though there was no true malice in your glare. “That seems to be true the longer I know you, Weasley.”

“Told you,” Fred smiled. “I’m not all loud and reckless.”

“No, I guess not.” Your voice came out a little distant, as if your mind was making a decision far away from the situation. Then, rather abruptly, you said, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I misjudged you. I still think you’re reckless…and have a tendency to be loud. But…you’re a good guy, Weasley. Even if you do still get on my nerves every now and again.”

The corners of Fred’s mouth turned up slightly as his own gaze flicked across your face. “Glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want everything to change between us.”

Ignoring the new change of energy between yourselves, you turned away and started laying out leaflets and pamphlets on the chairs, handing Fred half of your pile. 

“Since you’re here, you might as well help.”

Over the week, more guys turned up to the talks. And Fred was true to his word. A third year boy found the entire thing too hilarious, pointing and snickering at the first year girls in the front row. 

So, from the back of his collar, Fred, along with George, hoisted the boy from his chair and set him outside the classroom. 

By the end of the week, and the final talk, Fred was pulled out early by McGonnagall. Though you didn’t know why, part of you felt…sad? Lost? 

For a guy that had annoyed the hell out of you for four years, you were starting to feel something about not having him by your side or at least in your line of vision. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked him, relieved to see him when he waltzed inside as you were stacking the chairs back. 

But he just smiled and held out a letter. “It’s for you.”

“Why are you collecting my mail? You know in the muggle world, it’s illegal to open someone’s mail.”

“It’s illegal here, too.” Fred said. “But it came with my letters from home. And I haven’t opened it.”

“Who’s it from?”

“How would I know? I haven’t opened it.”

Turning it over and opening the wax seal, you unfolded the letter to find Mrs Weasley had written to you. First thanking you for taking care of her daughter, next for teaching her sons and then a final thank you for teaching other kids, too. 

“How does she know?”

Fred shrugged. “Maybe Ginny told her or…” He struggled to find a new lie. 

You watched Fred for a moment, then smiled. “Oh, my god.”

“What?”

You smiled, almost beaming. “You wrote to your mother about me?”

Fred flushed red. “W-what? No.” He tried to laugh it off, but you saw right through him. 

“You wrote to your mother about me.”

“No, I-I didn’t.”

“Whatever you say, Weasley.”

Fred chuckled. “Alright, Y/l/n. No need to be so smug.”

You smiled down at the letter addressed from Molly Weasley. “Nobody’s ever written to their mother about me before. Bad or good.”

Fred felt something warm in his heart. He was proud to be the first. 

“I think they’re still serving tea in the Great Hall,” Fred mentioned casually but quietly. “Want to get some?”

For the first time since knowing him, you didn’t have to overthink your answer. 

“Sure. Love to.”

That night, a small part of your history…or maybe your future…changed. Fred Weasley not only became your friend, but he also became something more. Something that didn’t exactly have a label. Well, not yet at least. But it was there. The…feeling. 

“You sure you’re okay?” 

If a year ago, somebody had told you you’d be studying with Fred Weasley, for your OWLs, in the Gryffindor common room, you’d have said they were mad. Insane, even. 

But it was true. 

A year on from what turned out to be the Diary from Hell for Ginny and other not so dramatic but equally life-changing things, it was true. 

You nodded, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Fred asked you again. “You look like somebody kicked you under the table in Potions today.”

“Felt like it,” you mumbled, trying to concentrate on your coursework. 

You didn’t say much after that, but you did grow concerned a little when Fred stood up, also without a word. If he did something, he usually spoke about it first. 

And he disappeared for seven whole minutes. Thankfully, a lot of the Gryffindors were used to finding you in their common room, knowing Fred wasn’t too far away. So if any came in, they wouldn’t question your presence. 

“Here.”

Fred returned, suddenly, holding out a hot water bottle.

“It might help.”

With a relieved smile, you thanked him. 

“Better?” He asked as he sat down. 

“Much. Thank you.”

“Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfry. They’re getting worse.”

“I’m fine, Fred. Really.”

Fred just nodded, turning back to his own coursework. But when you gave up on trying to focus on your work, laying on the sofa behind Fred, you sighed. 

“Can you tell what this says?”

Picking the piece of parchment from Fred’s hands, you recognised the writing right away. “Fred, this is your handwriting.”

“I know. Can you tell what it says?”

“How can you not know what you’ve written?”

“Please?”

You read it aloud. “Due to the increasing level of pain being experienced, I suggest the best course of action…Fred. I’m not going to Madam Pomfry.”

“It was worth a try. Just…promise me, if it gets worse, you’ll go. Or else I’ll drag you there myself.”

You laid a hand on his shoulder. “I promise.”

As the years went on, the friendship and whatever the unspoken thing was between both of you only seemed to grow until eventually you found yourself in a similar position, lay on one of the patchwork sofas in The Burrow. 

“Fred, you really need to get neater with your handwriting,” you said as you turned the page upside down for the third time. “Even I can’t tell what this says.”

“Well…it’s not my fault.”

You gave him a deadpan look. “We all went to the same school. Even George’s handwriting is neater than this. I swear, you need to make up your own spell to figure out what this says.”

From the kitchen, Ginny stood beside her brother. “How long have they been like this?”

“Arguing? Years.” George answered. “Lay that close together? Hours.”

“Do you think they’ve figured it out yet?”

“Fred’s handwriting? If Y/n can’t figure it out, nobody can.”

Ginny sighed, hitting her brother. “Not that. The other thing?”

“That they’re hopelessly and forever bound together in the spell of unspoken love?” George asked as Ginny nodded. “No, not yet.”

Ginny groaned before moving on and heading up the stairs. 

“For a guy that is running his own business, you should be able to read your own handwriting.”

Fred shrugged. “For someone that is able to run rings around some of the top lawyers in the Ministry, so should you.”

“Mum says ‘hi’ by the way,” you mentioned to Fred. “She says the papers for your new product should be ready for you to sign on Monday.”

“What time are you heading into the office?”

“Nine.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Meet you outside of the shop at 8? I need to pick up an order at Flourish and Blotts.”

Fred nodded. “Great. We can grab breakfast if you’d like?”

“Yes,” you said. “But I’m picking the place this time. There’s somewhere I’d like to show you.”

“It’s not gonna be filled with stuffy, uptight lawyers is it?”

You chuckled. “No. Just stuffy, uptight muggle public.”

“Muggles?” Arthur popped his head around the corner. “Bloody love Muggles. All their inventions. A multi-coloured pen. Sensational.”

You smiled before turning to Fred who had the same expression on his face. 

Since the very first time you’d met Arthur Weasley, he’d been enamoured with the information you held about Muggles. Apparently he’d met your father once, when he surprised your mother at the Ministry for their Anniversary. 

“Fantastic chap,” Arthur had told you. 

“Here,” you chuckled as you handed Fred his paper back. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

His eyes trailing after you and a light smile spread across his lips, your eyes locked with Fred’s as you climbed the stairs towards the bathroom. Only once you were out of earshot did George lean over the sofa and hit Fred on the back of the head. 

“Oi,” he whispered. “When are you gonna tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“That you want to marry her and have children with her and live out that fantasy dream of your own Burrow home with her.”

“Bugger off.”

“I’m being serious,” George whispered. “Besides, you’d make a great girl dad.”

“George. If she comes down here, she’s gonna freak out and start physically running back home.”

George just smiled. “That’s what you think. I think she’d run into you arms and-”

“She’s not that kind of girl.”

“Please, every girl is that girl.”

“Y/n’s different.”

“She loves you. And, you, my dear brother, love her, too.”

“George.”

“I don’t hear you denying it,” George sang as he walked away, just in time for you to come back down the stairs, fixing the clasp on the dungarees with random patchwork squares. 

Playing Quidditch in the summer with the rest of the Weasley clan one year had resulted in lots of laughter and randomly torn holes in the dungarees you were wearing. 

Now, they were patched back together with random pieces of fabric that, even when washed, still somehow smelled of the comforting scent of the Burrow on a fresh summer’s afternoon. 

“Denying what?”

“Oh, just that Freddie here-”

“George.”

“Needs to go back to school. Fix that handwriting of his.”

By the time Monday rolled around, you were dragging Fred down a busy London street towards your favourite cafe. Despite it being one of London’s busiest times in the morning, the cafe was practically empty compared to those on Westminster Bridge. 

“What can I get for you, dears?”

Placing in a double of your usual order, you left Fred to his own devices. Only, when you returned to him, handing over his to-go bag and tea, you found a woman standing in front of him. 

She was flirting with him. 

“Here you go,” you told Fred as you gave the stranger a rather withering look. 

She smiled, perkily. “Hi, I was just saying to your friend here that he looked a little lost. I’d be more than happy to give him a small tour if you’re in a rush.”

“No,” you answered. “Not in a rush. And he’s not lost. He’s with me.”

“Oh,” she looked between both of you before asking, “Really? I’m sure you’re a nice person but…really? Wow.”

“Okay, we’re leaving.” 

Taking Fred’s hand in yours, you practically dragged him out of the cafe. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing.”

“She was just trying to be nice.”

“She was flirting.”

“No, she-” Fred turned and looked at you. He knew the woman was flirting with him, she’d asked for his number. But Fred couldn’t think why you’d reacted so harshly. Until he looked at you, and it hit him. 

“Oh, my god,” he chuckled. “You’re jealous.”

Your brows furrowed quickly. “I’m not jealous.”

Fred couldn’t help but laugh a little more. “You are insanely jealous. I already told her I don’t have a phone.”

“She asked for your number?!”

Fred smiled as you turned and looked at him, almost as if someone had tried to brand your heart. 

“You-” You cleared your throat, trying to act normal. “Not that I care.”

As the street grew quiet and the red post box came into sight, Fred pulled you aside. “Hey, there’s no need to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

Fred just smiled. “I wouldn’t have said yes. Other than the fact that I thought she was rude, especially to you. She wasn’t…”

“She wasn’t what?”

Swallowing his pride, Fred finally spoke his truth. “She wasn’t you.”

It took a moment for you to register what Fred was actually saying. “Oh. Oh.”

Fred nodded. 

“Well…I…”

“Look, you don’t have to answer it now. Or…ever. You’re my closest friend, and I don’t ever want that to change, and if this does so. Especially if it does so for the worst…I’d rather be by your side just the way we are. You know, if you didn’t…if you don’t…”

“I do.” The words fell out quicker than a golden snitch could fly. “I do. I just…wasn’t expecting it to happen on a pavement in London before…before our meeting.”

Fred felt himself smile. He hadn’t scared you off, so he was off to a good start. 

“Can…can we talk about it after work?”

Fred nodded. He’d waited nearly five years. He could wait a few more hours. 

“Of course.”

“Okay then.” For a moment, you continued walking with Fred walking behind you. But then you stopped and turned back. “Are you sure? About…about me?”

Fred nodded. “My feelings haven’t changed since fifth year. I doubt they’re gonna change now.”

“Okay.” You sounded a little more confident the second time, even though he could still hear your brain trying to process the whole thing. “Okay, then.”

“This really is a good cup of tea.”

“Told you.”

You could be normal for a couple of hours, acting like you usually did with Fred. Just before lunch, he had to head back to the shop and you kept working through some of the upcoming cases. Though, despite the boring case work, you couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from your face. 

Fred felt the same.