#hufflepuff

Since then, subconsciously, your figure was the first his eyes searched for in every single room and hallway. Maybe he didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help it. It was stupid, really; he couldn’t figure out what it was about you that took his heart hostage. Maybe the way your fingers brushed books like they were sacred, how you whispered to yourself in class, like your brain didn’t hear your thoughts unless you voiced them aloud.

But maybe it was because you never performed for him. You weren’t like the girls who batted their eyes at him, squeezed his biceps, or laughed much too hard at jokes that truly weren’t that funny. You were reserved, a quiet presence, like lingering perfume. Your seraphic nature drew him in and wrapped his heart around your fist.

He should’ve been embarrassed at how pathetic he was being; he was Cedric Diggory. Every single girl in the school either thought he was attractive or was hopelessly obsessed with him; even guys got all giddy at the prospect of being friends with him. Safe to say, he was liked by all. Even Victor Krum slaps him on the back and yells “Diggy!” whenever he passes him and the other Durmstrang boys.

He forced himself to slow down as he neared the library, smoothing over his tie and smiling at a girl who giggled hysterically to her friends afterwards. He let the reassurance of his effect on women calm his nerves before he pushed the doors and walked in. The quiet hum and bustle of the library enveloped him as he walked across the room, towards the back of the library, the last few shelves. Either he’d find you, or he'd have to flash his prefect badge at whatever couple currently sucking face back there.

What would he say? Did he have to pretend to look for a book? Maybe he could use the second task as an excuse—

“Shoot!” You hissed, dropping your nose-high pile of books in your arms as you collided with his very solid chest. He stiffened upon seeing you, absolutely unprepared. He didn’t even practice a line; what was he even going to say? Sorry? 

Maybe start with moving, Diggory, he hissed to himself, bending down to crouch in front of you as you scrambled to pick up the scattered books. “Merlin, I’m a ditz, I’m so sorry–” you blurted out, face heating up, ears burning. 

“No, no, s’alright. Should’ve been watching, no?” He said with an easy smile, deciding he needed to be extra charming to woo you. He took the books from your hands swiftly, tilting his head to the side. “Where’re you going with half the library, love?”

You stiffened, cheeks burning as you averted your eyes and took a step back. “A table,” you huffed quickly, reaching for your books once more, which made him frown. “Which? M’sure you could use some help, and as your prefect–”

“That’s fine!” You said a bit too quickly, pulling up your yellow and black Hufflepuff scarf to your nose and grabbing the pile from his hands, wobbling a bit after jerkily rushing away from him. You rushed off to a table with two other Hufflepuffs he didn’t recognize and scrambled into your seat.

Smooth.

He bit back a groan and proceeded to aimlessly wander the library so as not to make it seem that all he came here for was you. He admired the walls and the floor for what seemed like hours, glancing over to your table every few minutes to see you and your stack of books still there. You hadn’t looked up once. Hadn’t even checked to see if he was around, nor even glanced around the room. 

He frowned, looking around the room. A few girls from Ravenclaw were staring at him, quickly looking away when he glanced their way. He then locked his gaze on a few Beauxbatons girls, and even they smiled and whispered amongst each other. 

He was the most popular guy in school, and yet, you’d just run from him. No one did that, not even the shy ones. Even they’d nervously smile and fluster at him being the one to notice them. 

Around you, he felt like Superman without his powers. You seemed so... Unaffected. Not even in the cold, unbothered way. In the way a bunny runs when it hears the crunching of leaves nearby.

He pouted to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair and leaving the library, fighting the urge to look back to see if maybe you were watching him leave, that maybe you were playing hard to get.

He shut the doors behind him and groaned and grumbled the rest of the way to the Hufflepuff Basement. 

“C’mon, Ceddy, this has turned pathetic at this point.” Ernie huffed as he dropped down on his four-poster bed, leaning back with an exhausted groan. “You’re seriously losing your mind over a girl who’s spoken to you a total of, what, maybe six times? Seven if you count today.” 

Cedric just offered a glare in return, running a hand down his face, immediately regretting his decision to tell his friends about you and what happened in the library two weeks ago. “Look, it’s not like that. She’s somethin’ else, I’m telling you.” He said defensively, making Ernie roll his eyes.

“Ced, hate to say it, but Ernie’s right on this one.” Ben muttered, passing Cedric a water bottle before moving to sit next to him. “You don’t know this girl. She sits alone, almost all the time. Has she even shown interest in you?”

“Maybe she’s shy!” Cedric protested, eliciting groans from both boys now. 

Ernie huffed out a laugh. “This is just masochistic at this point, Ceddy! Y’know any girl’d throw themselves at you, yeah?” He said with a snort, narrowing his eyes towards the golden boy. 

Cedric just pursed his lips and sighed, his ears flushing red. “It’s- she feels different, okay?” His voice was so soft that Ernie and Ben held off from rebutting. Ben squeezed his shoulder with a sigh. 

“I don’t get you.” He sighed, standing up and grabbing Ernie’s wrist. “We’ve got to meet McGonagall for Transfig’, need to ask her to extend the due date.”

Ernie gave Cedric a smirk before leaving the trio’s shared dorm with Ben, leaving the prefect there with his thoughts. 

Cedric let his head fall into his hands before groaning, tugging lightly at his hair. He’d never been so desperate for someone to talk to him, never. He never had to worry about that kind of thing. If he wanted to talk to someone, there was never any doubt that they’d be glad to talk to him. 

But you. Gods, you. It was unfair; cruel, almost— the things you did to his heart, his head, and his sleep. You did it all without even trying, without even thinking of him. Floating in your own world, content in your own bubble. 

It felt like he had to prove his worth to you, to prove to you that keeping him around is worth it, that he’s worth it. Worth you. He doubted that you were measuring people’s values and letting them in selectively; you were reserved, he’d gathered that. You relaxed in solitude, in silence. 

He’d tried everything in his arsenal, was the most charming he’d ever been, but you still never stayed to exchange more than eight words with him. He couldn’t understand where he was going wrong.

He stood up with a sigh, hands brushing over his robes as if he needed to do something with them lest he were to tug at his own hair again. He walked over to his desk, clipped on his prefect badge, and left his room for his nightly rounds. Maybe it’d distract him. Maybe he’d be occupied.

It’d be the same as always, though. He’d wander around and wonder about you. Were you sleeping? Awake? He felt his heart squeeze, fingers twitching by his sides, before he clenched them into fists. 

The most charming boy in school, my arse. 

You had a routine, you followed it. You woke up, did your lessons, sat for your meals, and then you spent the rest of your day in the library or in your dorm. What else is a girl to do? You didn’t have anyone to talk to but the same two people, and you couldn’t blame them. You shied away from absolutely everything. Eye contact flustered you to no end, and talking to people felt like having a clock ticking down the seconds, waiting for you to say something that’d horribly embarrass you or make you look like an utter freak. You didn’t know how to talk to people, didn’t know how to keep them interested. It was too much energy to have to assess someone and understand how to talk to them; it became easier to just stop trying, and it felt like it suited you. 

Sure, it got lonely, but the silence was comfortable in its predictability, in its presence. There was no suddenness in the solace of your own presence; you were aware. You didn’t have to please anyone, didn’t have to perform. The performance is what truly exhausted you. You knew that not everyone was some narcissist trying to use your shy nature to their advantage, but your mother always told you to be careful. Never be naive, never be easy.

So you turned difficult. Not in the loud way; scowling and scoffing your way through life. 

Unknowingly, unconsciously. It became harder to navigate through conversations, and you gave up with the rest of them. You had your own world, your own things to keep you busy. You skipped the parties; the noise and people proved to be more trouble than you ever thought it would be worth.

“Y/n!” Samantha hissed for the fourth time, finally snapping you out of whatever haze you were stuck in, making your cheeks flush. “If I have to repeat all that, I’ll kill you.” She grumbled, frowning now, hands on her hips. You gave her a sheepish smile, leaning back on your four-poster bed, having changed out of your robes and into your pyjamas for the night.

“Sorry, Sam. Go on, something about Arithmacy?” You tried, only to snort at her now offended reaction. “You think I spend my free time talking about Arithmacy?! No! That one bloke from Ravenclaw’s been dodging me for a straight week now! You’d think he’d reject a girl with class.” She hissed, dropping down on the bed next to you with a pained sigh. 

“Or maybe just accept he’s not into you,” Shlok said from across the room, currently putting on whatever expensive cream Samantha bought all over his hands, maybe her shoot up and screech at him about it being face cream. “Oh, shut up! Shut up!” She hissed, snatching her cream and pushing him towards the beds. 

“He doesn’t seem very nice, Sam.” You murmured delicately, tilting your head towards her as she aggressively sorted through her skin-care products. She was thorough, you had to admit. “Maybe you need a stricter screening process–”

“What I need–” She hissed, marching back into the room, frowning. “Is for Shlok to man up and beat him up on my behalf! What good’s being friends with a bloke if he isn’t going to beat up my shitty flings?!” She huffed, scowling at the boy who simply shrugged behind his glasses. “Can’t say I blame the poor guy, you’re sodding psychotic–” He mused before being crudely attacked by a pillow. “Y/n! Look at him! Tell him!” You bit back a snicker, covering your mouth as you watched Shlok prepare to launch the cushion back at Samantha. “Maybe you should try dating someone in our house, Sammy. You might meet nicer people. Hufflepuffs are sweet, no?” You offered, making her scowl soften in consideration before she was pummeled by a pillow, followed by Shlok crying out, ‘Take that, devil woman!’

Hufflepuffs are sweet, you repeated to yourself, drowning out the brewing warfare baking in your dorm room. You thought back to nice Hufflepuffs you knew, though you hardly spoke to any of them. Your mind drifted to the one Hufflepuff that seemed to pop up the most. Cedric Diggory. 

Obviously, you hadn’t told your friends about him; they’d torment you relentlessly about him. You weren’t daft, you knew of his reputation; the most sought-after boy in all of Hogwarts. Hail Mary of Hufflepuff. He was attractive, charismatic, and at the top of his class. You understood the appeal, yes, but you found it quite confusing as to why people lost themselves over a guy. Attractiveness shouldn’t override basic etiquette, in your opinion. Of course, you were naturally shy. Being around someone so social felt like standing in direct, burning sunlight. 

You didn’t understand it, why he spoke to you. Maybe it was a prefect thing; checking up on his house. Maybe it was a popular kid thing, feeling the need to include everyone. You sighed, eyes darting between Samantha and Shlok as they started flinging anything in reach at each other, eliciting a groan from you.

Your eyes moved to the clock on the wall, 9:36 pm. Your curfew began at 10. Without glancing at either of your friends, you smoothed over your pyjamas and slid on your slippers, slipping out od the dorm without interrupting your friends' bickering. You made your way through the common room and out the door, your wand tucked into the waistband of your pyjama pants. 

Hogwarts at night was your absolute favourite, though you never really let yourself bask in it, preferring your dorm over all else. You wandered through the halls, avoiding prefects purely out of fear of socialising, not bothering to let your wand light the way, allowing the darkness of the night to envelop you. 

After about ten minutes, you felt the consequences of wandering around Hogwarts at night in just your jammies, the cold biting through your thin cotton pyjamas that definitely weren’t built to withstand the tundra air of the castle’s halls. You shivered for the sixth time, your entire body shaking like you’d just been crucio-d. A soft ice-wrapped curse escaped your hushed voice as you rushed down the hall to get back to the dorms before you saw something turn the corner. 

To say you handled it with grace would be generous. 

For some unfathomable reason, you decided that the next order of action was to cover your face in classic ‘if I can’t see them, they can’t see me’ fashion. 

“Y/n?” A soft yet incredibly bemused voice made you lift your head, gaping.  

Of fucking course it was him who found you. Who else?

“Diggory.” You mumbled, offering him a polite, tight-lipped smile. He frowned, swallowing down the flutter in his chest erupting from simply seeing you. “You can’t be out here.” He said gently, making you wince. “Gosh, I know, I should’ve brought a scarf or a jacket, I’m never usually this careless—”

“Er, no. I mean, you very literally can’t. Curfew. Prefect. You know?” He said, trying to be as delicate as possible; reprimanding you was incredibly uncomfortable for him. Acting like you weren’t his every waking thought. “Though I do agree it wasn’t very clever to be out here in that.” He said with a soft chuckle, undoing his scarf before stepping forward to offer it to you.

“Merlin, right, sorry.” You said quickly, heat flooding to your cheeks at the sheer embarrassment of assuming, mindlessly taking the scarf in your embarrassment before stilling and offering it back to him. “I-I’m fine. Really. Thanks.” You said quickly, making a frown pull at his lips. “As your prefect,” he started, trying to put extra emphasis on his role as head of house. “I am to make sure my house members are alright. Just wear it for the time being, I can take it from you early morning, that alright?” 

You just frowned, not wishing to continue this interaction by arguing. You wrapped the yellow fabric around your neck, it already being heated from having been wrapped around him for maybe the past few hours. With a shudder at the newfound warmth, you looked up at him. “Thanks. Very sorry.” You said quickly, moving to walk past him. “Have a good night–walk–rounds.” You choked out, your heart now racing, eyes on the floor as you practically speed walked away from him, a soft ‘Goodnight’ coming from behind you as you rushed off to your house.

You groaned once you got far enough, pulling the scarf over your nose before getting progressively more flustered at the deep breath of his cologne entering your nose. You felt stupid for running off now; he probably felt offended. Maybe regretted helping you at all. 

You felt your heart pound the whole way back, trying rid the interaction from your mind. It was a short one, and maybe if you weren’t in the headspace of eligible Hufflepuffs, you may have been able to. Unfortunately, you couldn’t shake the thought. Cedric was thirsted over by the entire school, you’d never batted an eye before, but his tiny act of generosity or maybe just duty, made you just a tad bit more aware of him, you could say.

Upon entering your dorm, you felt yourself pulled into a smothering hug. “Where did you go?! It’s been an hour?! When did you leave!?” Samantha shrieked, pulling you into the room where Shlok sat on the floor, green facemask on his face. You turned to Samantha to see the same facemask on her aswell. You turned sheepish, letting her sit you down and push your hair away from your face as she applied it on your face.

“Wanted to go on a walk for a bit. Figured I’d be back sooner.” You said softly, shuddering at the cold cream. “Well, you should’ve–” She began before stopping, freezing where she sat. She pulled back, turned around as if to check something before snatching the scarf around your neck. “Who’s is this?!” She shrieked, making Shlok sit up in curiosity. You felt your cheeks burn. “Hey, Sam-” Shlok snorted and snatched it from Samantha, opening the scarf to find the stitched initials each school garment often has. “Cedric D?” He huffed, brows furrowing before he gasped ever so dramatically, throwing the scarf at Samantha, making her gasp in turn. “Diggory?!” She cried, eyes wide. “Merlin, you’re snogging Diggory–”

“No! No!” You hissed indignantly, snatching the scarf back as heat flooded your face. “He gave me his scarf cause I didn’t have one, and he’s decent!” you went on, though the justification fell on deaf ears as they grinned at each other shamelessly. “You were right!” Shlok huffed, making Samantha giggle in glee.

You could just gape in confusion, moving closer. “Right about what?” You huffed, exasperated. Samantha pulled you closer by the wrist. “Diggory totally likes you!” She squealed, making you frown. You didn’t believe it, the prospect even annoyed you. You hardly ever spoke to the bloke, hardly ever saw him.

“Har har.” You said dryly, deadpanning over to your beaming friends. Shlok snorted, poking your side. “You’ve seriously never noticed how much he stares at you?” He mused, making your frown deepen. That got your attention.

“Stares?” “Stares!”

Samantha put Cedric’s scarf on the table, still buzzing with excitement. “All the time! Every time he’s in the same area as you, he just stares! Shlok thought it was because you’re taking 6th year classes, but I knew it was because—”

“Wait. Wait, no. He can’t possibly!” You protested, your heart picking up again. It was just a scarf, how could it confirm something this massive? “He’s just a gentleman! He was just being nice.”

You gave them an unamused look, which barely changed anything as they promptly ignored your pessimism. Samantha rolled her eyes, shrugging. “He still likes you, Y/n.”

The frown on your face deepened as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Well, in all the times he’d come up to me, he’s never once flirted–”

“Come up to you?! He’s come up to you?!” Shlok basically shrieked. 

Oh, the drama.

You winced as they began hammering you with questions about what he’d say, what he’d do. You told them everything, the awkward interactions, and even walked them through tonight’s interaction, word-for-word. By the time you were done, they were positively certain Diggory had it in for you. You still couldn’t believe it, the expression on your face making your disbelief horribly obvious.

“Okay–okay! How about this?” Samantha went on, sitting on the bed. “Maybe don’t instantly run off when you give him his scarf. He wakes up pretty early, no? Just wake up early and sit with him in the common room or something!”

The prospect of talking to him already made you want to collapse and die, but Shlok cut you out of the thought process. “What’s the harm, ey? If he wants to leave, he can just get up and walk off. If he wants to talk, all you’ll have to do is answer questions and sit there in front of a fire.”

That made you consider it, your scowl softening as you weighed the pros and cons. You supposed he was right. You didn’t need to do much; you didn’t even have to initiate anything.

Reluctantly, you parted your lips. “I guess—” “Lovely!” Samantha chirped, pulling you to the bathroom along with Shlok to wipe off the face mask.

A soft laugh left you as you scrubbed the dried cream off your face, Samantha already going off on Shlok for using her face wash as hand wash. You already survived crazy, you figured you could survive sitting near Cedric Diggory. 

Saying Cedric woke up was questionable; he wasn’t sure how long he really even spent asleep after his interaction with you. Pathetic, really. He was near you for about five minutes, and it was all he could think about— how you looked in the darkness, bathed in nothing but moonlight. How his bigger scarf looked around your shoulders, warming your nose. How your eyes looked in the dark, the way his last name sounded, wrapped in your tongue.

Those thoughts followed him since he woke up at the ass crack of dawn, 5 am. He didn’t know why, but he preferred the quiet lull of the early morning, the ability to go to the kitchen, request the house-elves a personalised breakfast, and just sit before the fire for about an hour till everyone else began to wake up. No rush to get ready, no drowsiness in class, and he’d always be exhausted by eleven. Win-win. 

He made his way downstairs from the boys dormitories, rubbing one end of the towel around his shoulder onto his damp hair moving across the common room before a figure in front of the fireplace made him do a double take.

You.

And by Merlin, if seeing you didn’t make his heart falter in his chest.

“Y/n?” He said softly, his voice rough from sleep. He neared the couches around the fire, looking as you nervously turned your head to smile towards him. “G’morning, Diggory.” You said in turn, his heart fluttering at the way the early morning softened your face.

He grinned widely, rounding the couch to sit beside you, tilting his head towards you. Still in yesterday’s pyjamas, but your hair was a bit tidier, as if you’d brushed it one too many times, and now you had a chunky Hufflepuff sweater on as well. Nevertheless, he still found you hopelessly endearing. He hoped he wasn’t giving himself away with how pathetically he was looking at you. “Morning, love. You’re up early, aren’t you?”

You flustered, hands tightening around his scarf, which you had sitting in your lap. You looked down at it, then him, offering it up. “Scarf. Your scarf. Here–Here’s your scarf.” You mumbled, making his heart swell as he reached for it, tying it around your neck. Bold move, he knew; at this point, however, he was hellbent on making sure you took a liking to him. “It’s cold this early, y’know? How about you keep it for a bit longer? I’ll snag it once you get yours on.” He said with a soft smile, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary before pulling back.

You felt your face grow hot as you squirmed away from him before nodding stiffly. “Thanks.”

He wet his lips, eyes softening at your shyness. He’s never really been this close to you before, it knocked the breath from him. “I.. don’t really see you at parties often. Not your scene?” He asked softly, making you shake your head. 

“Bit loud for my taste,” you admitted, turning to look at him. “Hate being surrounded in strangers, y’know?” He didn’t. He’d never really been in a situation where he didn’t know someone enough to speak to them, but he nodded nevertheless.

“What is your scene, then?” He prodded, running a hand through his half-dried hair. He wasn’t expecting much out of you, given your introvertedness, so when he saw the way your eyes lit up; it felt like the world had stopped spinning for just a beat.

“The library.” You said, smiling softly. He thought you’d stop there, go back to tugging at your sleeves. 

Boy, was he wrong.

“There’s a section, near the back but not in the restricted section, because I know we can’t go back there. A lot of old books no one ever reads are tucked back there. I don’t read them either, really. Mainly biographies of old magic folk who created very popular spells and whatnot, but I sit there a lot. By myself, mostly. I like my friends, I really like them, but I often sit there and not talk and read.” You rambled, talking quickly as if you were scared he might get up and walk off mid-monologue. “—so the books I do read are mainly thrillers these days. I wore out the romance section last year, but I hear they’re going to add to the collection soon! In the meantime, through, I’ve been reading ‘Following Ms. Brighton’ and—”

Cedric sat there in stunned silence, his eyes slowly filling with more and more adoration as you began to explain the entire plot of the book, chapter by chapter, thoroughly, to him. Admittedly, he’d never been the thrilled type, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t cling to your every word like there’d be a quiz on it later. 

He didn’t notice that he was smiling until you told him the ending, wetting your lips as you realised you’d been rambling for nearly thirty minutes. “It sounds amazing,” he said softly, watching the way you averted your gaze, flustering. “Do you have it? Could I borrow it?” he continued, making you nearly gasp before you beamed, nodding furiously. “F’course! It’s great, I’m sure you’d like it! I think more people should give it a read, honestly,” you told him, picking at your sleeve.

His heart fluttered as a soft, breathy laugh left him. “Merlin, you’re sweet.” He mumbled, eyes soft with a type of fondness that merged into unadulterated adoration. Your smile softened at the compliment, looking at the fire. “You’re nice, too. Thanks for listening,” you murmured over the crackle of the hearth.

He simply nods, gazing at your side profile for a bit longer before catching himself and leaning back on the couch. “Yeah, ‘course. Anytime,” he meant it, he really did. There’s nothing he’d love to listen to more than your incessant ramblings about books and plots and portrayals of modern society. The sheer joy that filled your face at being able to talk about something you enjoyed would stay in his heart and his head for weeks. 

The two of you sat in silence from thereon. Relaxing into the quiet of the warm common room. He liked it, being quiet with you. He knew you’d like it too, if he gathered anything about you; silence was your thing. You stared at the fire like it was whispering secrets in the form of smoke, and you wished to decipher it. He kept staring at you, tracing the lines of your face, the curve of your neck; every twitch your fingers made was noted in his mind, as a mental list of things you couldn’t control yet drove him crazy. 

It stayed like that, the warm silence. Neither broke it; neither wanted to. 

The past few weeks upcoming Yule ball felt different, fuller almost.

You’d seen Cedric around more often, practically every single day. Always getting a chance to sit with you in the evenings after classes, you even began waking up earlier just to be near him in the mornings. 

Samantha and Shlok noticed, of course, they did. They didn’t react how you think they would, though. They didn’t blow it up or try to embarrass you, they’d just grin whenever you came back from hanging out with him. The lack of teasing helped you melt away the awkwardness, the nervousness. 

Today was an exception. You hadn’t seen him at all. 

Usually on Saturdays, he’s more visible, pulling his Quidditch team to practice in the mornings; you’d always catch sight of them. You didn’t today. Not at breakfast, nor during lunch.

It bothered you, a small bundle of nerves building in your lower belly. You squirmed your way through Hogsmeade, and now you were letting Samantha and Shlok ramble on and on about their Yule ball dates. You caught the gist of it. Something, something, twink. Something, something, muscles. 

You were too busy worrying about Cedric. What if he were sick? Sad? He’d become part of your daily, his absence felt like a rift in the balance. A shift in the force. A disruption of your carefully crafted routine.

It didn’t take long till Shlok was tugging you up to pull you out of the dorm along with Sam as they decided to sneak out of the castle and sit in the courtyard. You let him without protest, too wrapped up in your own spiralling. You guessed they saw how intense you looked and decided fresh air and stars were just what the doctor ordered.

They tugged you along, through the quiet halls and past lingering prefects and professors till you reached the courtyard.

You heard them mumble something about getting snacks from the kitchen, making you sigh and walk over to the fountain in the middle of the stone courtyard, sitting at the edge in wait.

The sound of the wind and the silence made the biting cold in your face subside. You were dressed warmly this time, at least; drowning in a chunky grandpa sweater and the baggiest wool pants you could find. The sounds of winter were rudely interrupted by approaching footsteps, making you ruffle your hair a bit.

“Hey, Sam, you got me those pretzels I like, right—”

“Hi.”

Your head whipped around so fast you swore you heard your neck crack. You knew that voice. You hadn’t heard it all day.

And there that voice was, dressed in a rather hideous jumper and dark loose-fit jeans, a bouquet of flowers that thankfully weren’t roses in his hand, the other nervously running through his infuriatingly perfect hair.

His smile made something melt inside you; your bones felt liquid as you stood from where you sat at the fountain. “Cedric. Hi–hi.” you mumbled, completely bewildered. His grin both widened and softened and it did horrible things to your heart.

“Sorry for doing this in the snow. Out here.” He said softly, walking up to you, cheeks flushed because of the cold and the way your eyes were bugging out of their sockets in pure shock. The cogs in your head were turning incredibly slowly. 

“I’m sorry, doing what?” You breathed as he took both your hands in his one, still holding the bouquet in the other. Your breathing suddenly turned manual as you looked up at him in the soft moonlit glow of the courtyard. 

His eyes softened with something impossibly fond, looking at your awestruck expression. “You make me feel stupid sometimes, you know? My tongue feels like it stops working whenever you look at me like that. Like I’ve hung the stars.”

A soft breathless laugh left him and made your heart swell. He offered you the flowers; you took them. “You can say no,” he continued, tilting his head ever so slightly. “I won’t throw a fit, I swear. I know I’m a champion and it’ll be a lot of pressure to be my date because of the champion’s dance and—”

“Cedric.” “Right, right, right. Sorry.”

His cheeks flushed red, one hand still holding yours, the other stuffed in the pocket of his jeans. “I’d love it if you’d go to the Yule ball with me.” He whispered, eyes peering into yours with an intensity that, for once, didn’t overwhelm you. “Would you like to?”

Your chest felt fuzzy, blinking stupidly up at him like your brain hadn’t quite caught on before you gasped. “Oh, yeah! Yes, yeah!” You sputtered, lips widening into a wide grin as a soft squeal left you. You hopped up and down in joy before throwing your hands around his neck.

Cedric wrapped his arms around your waist, stuffing his face into your shoulder as he let out a long, shuddering sigh. “Fucking hell, you terrify me.” He breathed into your sweater, making you giggle.

Being around someone so social and extroverted made you feel like you were standing in direct, burning sunlight. 

Maybe you preferred the warmth after all.

𓆙

talking to your friend zarah who’d been there since day one you always told her what you told matt, for the most part. “i just don’t get why nobody is interested in me zar, like am i genuinely that ugly” you plopped onto your bed sighing dramatically. “you’re not ugly and if you think no guys want you you’re blind i know one in particular that really, really wants you” she giggled.

you looked at her with a confused expression “i must be missing something because i have no idea who you’re talking about” you awaited her response and she just rolled her eyes and sighed “girl your practically boyfriend of a best friend you do everything with” she gave you a duh look and you just laughed. you genuinely couldn’t believe she’d even think he’d like you especially with all the girls he’d been with, “you’re hilarious, we both know he doesn’t want me he wants all the girls he tells me about” you started to compose yourself but zarah’s expression didn’t change.

“you literally must be blind y/n do you need glasses? or should i say puff? let’s talk about how that man hasn’t stopped calling you that pet name since you’ve met.. he’s in love” she rolled her eyes raising her hands in the air. “i still don’t think he wants me so there’s no convincing me” you shrugged her off and she groaned getting up and leaving your shared dorm.

𓆙

“puff you gotta come to this party, slytherin won agains gryffindor i just know this is gonna be the party you want to go to pleaseee” mattheo put his hands on your shoulders shaking you “fiinee” you attempted to answer between shakes before he let you go “if i would’ve known it was that easy i would’ve done that years ago” he rolled his eyes.

“anyways it’s tonight at like 8 so i’ll just get you from your dorm at like 7 do you think they’ll let me in? actually what’s the password?” he didn’t give you time to finish any of your sentences before you just gave him the password “butterscotch” you whispered, in response mattheo laughed “fucking butterscotch merlin that’s hilarious” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes walking away.

“i’ll see you at 7 puff” he yelled across the hall and you just gave a thumbs up and continued walking. you honestly were quite nervous seeing as you’ve never necessarily been to a party before, you’ve made small appearances at hufflepuff parties but you’ve heard they don’t even compare to slytherin.

making your way into your dorm you spot zarah and you pull her up from the common room couch “i finally said yes to a party need help now” you quickly mumbled and she quickened her pace “when does it start girl i need the info right this second come on you’re talking too long for me” she rushed and you blurted it all out “8pm he’s getting me at 7 he has the password he will be at the dorm” closing the door behind you two you both stopped to catch your breath

“sooo is it a dateee” she shimmied her arm on you winking “i already told you he doesn’t like me!!” you replied to her relentlessness. “ugh whatever we need to get you ready girl it’s already six” she pushed you onto your shared vanity chair and pulled out all of your makeup and a few things of hers, “creative control?” she asked smirking at you “mm fine but not too much” you agreed “we’ll see” she giggled.

after around 30 minutes she finished your makeup and she showed you the finished product, looking at yourself in the mirror you thought how you never would’ve put on red lipstick yet you feel really good in it. she gave you a small smokey eye and a small winged liner and you felt you looked more aggressive then you were, but you kinda loved it.

“it’s so much but so pretty” you admired yourself and the makeup she put on you slowly getting used to the feeling of fake eyelashes on your eyes. “i’m so glad you love it, but we need to find an outfit like three hours ago” she joked and rushed to your closets “i actually have the perfect dress in mind if you’re feeling the want to rep slytherin green” she raised her eyebrows up at you in a suggestive matter “sure why not” you shrugged

she handed you a velvet body con forest green dress that you were sure was going to be extremely short and you mean in every place. she held it up onto you “this will be perfect. get it on come on” she rushed you into the bathroom and you began putting it on “this is sooo tight” you called out as you struggled “oh i forgot it was a corset back wait i need to help you can i come in” she yelled through the door

“yeah come on i need this thing one me already” you struggled more as she walked in and immediately began to help you loosening the strings of the dress and pulling it down onto you “there we go now suck in like your life depends on it” she said half jokingly and began retightening the corset back. with every pull it felt like your chest was spilling out more and more and your ribs were shrinking “okay merlin that’s enough before i can’t breathe” you huffed and she stopped tying it off in a bow

“stop you look so hot y/n i bet matt will be drooling” she teased and you just rolled your eyes “what do we do with my hair” you looked at her with horror as you only had ten minutes before he should arrive. you quickly began curling your hair not really caring if it was messy just giving it some body and just as you were spraying perfume on there was a knock on your door.

zarah looked at you and whispered “answer it go go now” she pointed to the door like she was afraid to touch it herself and you walked over opening it to see mattheo in an all black button down with the top few buttons undone and black dress looking pants yet somehow he didn’t look overdressed. he didn’t say anything for a minute he was just staring at you looking up and down in awe “holy fuck y/n who did your makeup you look woah” he put his finger on your chin moving your head around examining your makeup

“zarah isn’t it pretty” you smiled and he removed his hand and replied “yeah you are, now let’s go” he grabbed your hand and you looked behind you waving bye to zarah “he’s so in love with you” she whispered before the door slammed closed.

𓆙

once you got the the party you noticed there were already many slytherins already pregaming and mattheo brought you two to them, “let’s get some alcohol in you little puff” he winked and poured you a shot of who knows what, you smelled the foul drink and it made your nose burn “come on do ittt” he cheered on and you held your nose throwing the shot back gagging at the taste. “how do people enjoy that” you made a face at him “like this” he replied taking two shots himself, “now catch up” he winked pouring you yet another

“if i didn’t know any better id say you’re trying to get me drunk matt” you laughed and he looked at you amused “obviously that’s what im trying to do it’s a party” he put the shot glass to your lips and you parted them taking the burning substance down your throat, “eugh that didn’t get any better the second time” you shook your head in disgust. “hm, let me make you an actual drink” he grabbed a clear liquor and a red juice mixing them together adding more alcohol than your past two shots and handed it to you

“matt this smells foul” you looked up at him, “just try it trust me the slytherins have the masking drink down” he winked and you reluctantly took a sip, and to your surprise all you tasted was juice. after taking another few sips you quick began drinking it and mattheo pulled the cup from your lips “slow down there this shits dangerous you’ll get so drunk you won’t be able to walk straight” he chuckled. “it’s not my fault they made it taste like juice” you shrugged still sipping.

“hey mattheo have your little hufflepuff take some shots with us” enzo threw his arm around your shoulders and mattheo pushed them off almost immediately “no she doesn’t need any shots” he spoke “you didn’t even ask me” you protested, granted you didn’t necessarily want to take any shots you just didn’t like being talked for. “oo are you sure you’re not slytherin you got an attitude” enzo laughed handing you a shot and you looked at mattheo who rolled his eyes as you took the shot.

throwing the shot back the burning sensation took over your throat and you could feel it rushing down your throat. you coughed a bit and chugged your drink for comfort “puff you’re going to get shitfaced slow down” matt fully took your cup this time and you were already feeling it. giggling looking up at him “okay now who was going to tell me party’s are fun” you continued giggling.

the music started playing and the slytherin common room was now getting more and more packed. you saw fifth year students and up in here, even a few ravenclaw and hufflepuffs your recognized. to your surprise in the corner of the party you spotted cedric diggory talking to a group of girls holding a drink.

pansy noticed your head being stuck in a certain direction and followed your eyes “oh em gee, someone’s got their eyes on a certain hufflepuff” she winked shoving her shoulder at your “shhhhh he’s just nice to look at” you giggled at her and she giggled along “you two would be soo cute” she added dragging you back to the drinks

“let’s take some shots!” she exclaimed handing you two , you took them smiling and shot them back with her, a woo leaving her mouth. “here chaser, chaser!” she shouted handing you another drink this time what looked like a lot of the punch, downing it all she laughed “girl we’re gonna be gone”. looking around you were seeing doubles of everything but didn’t want the night to already end.

“so, are you a virgin?” pansy shouted over the music making your already alcohol flushed face even redder “pansy!! you can’t just ask that!!” you shouted back flustered at the intrusive question, “i’m only curious girl” she giggled and gave you begging eyes “come onnnn” she shook you till you gave in “fine yes i am but don’t tell anyone!” you replied back as lowly as you could over the music

“who would you lose it to?” she giggled “i lost mine to blaise hehe sshhhh” she winked, considering she just told you her secret you felt obligated and just looked around “i mean i guess cedric” you giggled as she pointed at him after your response. before she could say anything else you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and drag you off. trying to kick your way out was useless and they brought you to an empty dorm.

through all of this you couldn’t tell who it was kicking and screaming for them to let you go till you heard mattheos voice “puff calm down it’s just me” he sighed putting you down on what you now assumed was his bed “why did you bring me in here that was so scary” you huffed trying to gain your composure. “diggory?” he scoffed not answering your question.

you looked at him confused as to what he was on about “what do you mean? what about cedric” you cocked your head to the side in confusion “you lost your virginity to him??” he questioned stepping closer to you looking rather.. pissed. you just laughed in response “me? lose my virginity to cedric?.. you’re funny” yeah you fantasized about it but it certainly wouldn’t happen.

“what were you talking to pansy about then??” he looked at you unconvinced, “she asked if i lost it and i said no, but id let him take it.-“ you shrugged “besides you know i tell you everything matt i’ve never even had a boyfriend let alone a guy be interested in my virginity” you sighed laying back onto the bed now feeling upset.

you heard mattheo sigh and you picked your head up to look at him, his eyes stared back at you in silence before breaking it “believe me there’s a lot of guys who want to get in your pants” he rubbed his fists and you gave him a confused expression yet again “what are you on about matt?” you were getting sober just from all of this extra mystery.

he walked over to the bed sitting beside you, “listen when we met you were just.. blooming completely and i would be lying if i didn’t say i first went up to you because of your looks.. well overtime you know we became friends and i noticed other guys staring in ways they shouldn’t have been so i had to teach them a lesson.” he looked at you and yo didn’t know how to respond to something like that.

“what exactly are you saying matt?” you didnt understand what he was poking at, did matt mean to say he basically likes you? were you reading too much into this? “look y/n, no one else in this school fucking deserves you. hell i don’t deserve you but i know i can treat you how you need. don’t ask me what took so long to confess to you y/n, but do you feel even remotely the same?” he let it all out quick and fast, and your mouth dropped.

“you want.. me?” you looked at him in disbelief and he just smiled “that’s what that whole speech was about, yeah” he chuckled nervously awaiting your reply “why?” you sighed still slightly unconvinced “have you fucking seen yourself puff? you’re so undeniably gorgeous, i don’t know how i hold myself back from you everyday” he leaned in closer to you making this all seem more real. without thinking you allowed yourself to lean into him, faces and lips meeting for the most magical first kiss you could’ve ever imagined.

“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n” he grabbed your face pulling you closer to him till you straddled over his lap sitting down continuing the now makeout. “this is so much better than.. imagined” you huffed through the kisses. you could already feel mattheos member growing beneath you and you never thought you’d be the one experiencing this from your best friend.

you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to a fantasy or two about him in the past but this was already one thousand times better than ever imagined. mattheos lips kissed their way down your neck leaving small marks tiny moans leaving your mouth, “i need to hear more of that, y/n, let me eat you out.. please i need a taste” he continued his kisses along your neck bringing them back to your lips “i’ve never- mm yes” you replied as his fingers began making circles over your underwear.

“you sound so good fuck” he groaned pulling you off of him and getting off the bed, “you’re sure of this?” he questioned one last time and you just nodded impatiently awaiting his next move. next thing you knew he was yanking you to the edge of his bed and slowly removing your pants and underwear looking up at you from below. “holy fuck puff.. you’re fucking soaking” he breathed out over your pussy sending tingles down your spine.

without warning his mouth met your untouched area and you felt things never imaginable. his tongue made its way around your bulging clit, flicking it up and down and making his way to your entrance sucking and licking “you taste so good holy fuck” he huffed going right back in not even looking up at you, “can i put two fingers” he spoke from your pussy and you couldn’t even properly answer “mm y-yes” you replied between your moans.

you felt his slender fingers teasing your entrance and he slowly began inching one in and out teasingly, “mattheo-“ you huffed and he chuckled shoving both fingers in, loud moan escaping your mouth and this new feeling. he did a few different moments trying to figure out what makes you moan the most, soon his tongue was sucking expertly on your clit as his fingers twisters and curled inside of you.

“matt i want to.. try” you moaned at this pleasure wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you now. “mm but you’re not ready yet puff” he continued devouring your pussy simply divulging in it as if he’d never eaten anything before. his pace on everything quickened and you were already near your own orgasm, “if you don’t s-stop i’m gonna cum” you moaned loudly trying to control yourself.

“let go for me sweetheart” he sucked harder on your clit, the nickname and action forcing your orgasm to flood over you harder than you’ve ever been able to make yourself experience. your body was shaking and you couldn’t hold your reactions back, mattheo slowly licked your gushing area clean before standing up “mm now i think you’ll be ready soon” he smirked leaning down over you, grabbing your chin and giving you a kiss.

It all started with Umbridge. The worst person since He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named came back. Parading around in her pink and pretty cardigans, calling out with that sickly sweet voice of hers to teachers that were no longer allowed to teach. You even felt bad for Snape. He could be an ass, but at least he still judged the students fairly. 

Then again, he did always seem to have something against Harry and his friends. But that wasn’t anything new. You supposed seeing the boy that looked exactly like your high school bully, as well as your high school crush, wasn’t exactly easy after the former put you through a lot. Not that it should excuse his behaviour as a teacher. 

Either way, he was still miles better than the walking-talking-cursing Prissy Pink Professor. 

“Are you alright?” 

For the last twenty minutes, you’d heard a quiet hissing of pain. At first you thought that maybe it was a draft of high wind coming through one of the cracked window panes. But, finally going in search of it, you turned a corner and found one of the Weasley twins at an old shabby desk. 

“What?” Swiftly, he covered his arm and hand with his robe, but from the twitch in his eye, it just caused more pain. 

“You’re hurt.” 

The Twin smiled, looking over his study books. “Oh, yeah. Muggle math – can hurt anyone’s brain.”

In a hushed whisper, you moved forward and sat across from him. “Not that. Your hand.”

“Oh.” He moved it. “It’s nothing. Just one of Umbridge’s new methods of torture.”

“Show me?” 

Looking into his eyes, you saw the pain behind the mask he was putting up. And, as he looked back, he saw the anger behind the worry. 

“It’s nothing, really.” He told you, showing you the back of his hand. “I’ve had them before.”

Getting close enough to see the raised and red markings etched into his skin, you almost managed to reach for his hand until one of the new ministry appointed library attendants appeared. With a wave of their wand, you were sent flying back. 

Fred was shocked at the look in your eyes as you glared towards the attendant. Truthfully, he didn’t think Hufflepuff’s could hold such a feeling. 

Only once they had disappeared, you turned back to him. “Can you make it to the kitchens? After classes?”

“Why-”

“I can heal them,” you told him, your voice soft but steady. “If you’ll let me.”

Fred nodded, and you nodded back before taking your leave. However, just before you turned the corner, you heard a whispered, “Oi.”

“What’s your name?” He asked you. 

“Y/n.”

“Fred.”

With a brief smile, you said, “I’ll see you later, Fred.”

And you did. 

Despite the regulations and the rules and the curfew, you managed not only to make sure Fred got a note for the time to meet, but you also managed to make it into the kitchens without being seen. 

As did Fred. 

“Come with me.”

Lightly dragging Fred behind you, you made it to the kitchen storage cupboard and closed the door. 

It took you less than twenty seconds to find what you were looking for, before turning back to face him. Walking closer so there was less than eight inches of distance between you both, you asked him to hold out his hand. 

“Is this even legal?”

You shrugged. “Even the ministry can’t stop Madam Pomfry from teaching students how to heal themselves.”

Fred laughed quietly. “I guess you’re right.”

“She’s such a bitch,” you mumbled under your breath as you read the notes scarred into Fred’s skin. “I can’t believe she’s doing this to students.”

“Nobody can.” Fred replied. “But who is the Ministry going to believe?”

You gave a sigh, shaking your head. “For all their fuss over exams, you’d think they’d give her one to see if she’s suitable even being around kids. If you’d ask me, I’d say she should be locked up in a padded room.”

“Padded room might be too nice,” Fred said. “George and I found two first years crying on the bridge yesterday.”

You sighed again. “I’ll give you some extra. No doubt you’ll find more students in the same way. And I suspect your brother has the same scars?”

Fred nodded, lightly. “You’re a healer?”

“So I’m told.”

Fred didn’t recognise you from any of his classes, so you had to be younger. “Kinda young to be a healer. I’m surprised the Ministry hasn’t tried to snatch you up.”

You shook your head. “The less people know at school, the better.”

“And…” Fred whispered. “If people ask why I suddenly have healing balm?”

Looking up at him, meeting his gaze, you smiled slightly. “Then make something up.”

“Can’t you read? It says, "I must not tell lies.” Fred pointed to his arm, but even you knew from the hidden smile on his face he already had thirty different stories concocted in his head. 

“Say what you must,” you told him. “Umbridge has already been watching my every movement since I stood in her way of torturing that terrified second year last month.”

Rolling up your own sleeve to show him, Fred graciously took your hand in his before reading the four different scars. 

I must not be rude. 

I must be quiet. 

I must not be unkind. 

I must be grateful. 

“Well, they’re just lies.” Fred said. “But why do you still have them?”

“If I used the balm, Umbridge would know it’s me making it. If not, at least a Hufflepuff. This way, it keeps targets off our backs.”

“What about the rest of us?”

“She’s too busy hunting Harry for her to notice any other Gryffindors. She rarely attacks the Slytherins and the Ravenclaws have Fitwick. She probably thinks they’re too busy being taught spells, making sure their school work is done.”

Fred nodded. “I guess you have a point. But…” Fred’s voice turned soft, rather than quiet as he took a small dab of the healing balm and held your hand. “I do think this should be the first to go.”

Swiping it across the third line, you felt a small tingle before watching the writing disappear as if it had never even existed. 

“You don’t need to be reminded of that.”

You smiled a little, holding onto his hand for a mere moment. “Thank you.”

Fred smiled back, but both quickly vanished when you heard the clock tower strike eleven. 

“We better get back before her death squad has Filch string us up by our ankles,” Fred told you. 

You nodded. “You’re right.”

What followed was several secret weeks of helping and healing those that you could. To keep Umbridge’s suspicions off of you, as well as the others, when Fred gained another line of scars he stayed away from your healing balm for at least three days. 

That way, when he attended his last lesson with Umbridge on a Wednesday, she could still see the scars. 

“Fantastic, Ginny!” 

For the last few weeks since returning to school, Harry had been teaching everyone within the DA to cast a patronus. But, despite picking up on the other lessons rather quickly, this one was proving difficult. 

“It’s okay,” Fred told you. “We’ll get it eventually.”

“I just hope it isn’t too late.”

You practiced where and whenever you could. With all of Umbridge’s rules, it made it rather difficult. But, thankfully, the Kitchen elves rather enjoyed your company. 

And they were getting used to Fred. 

“What’s your happiest memory?” Fred asked you as you laid down a bowl of stew in front of him. 

Unable to concentrate between the stress of Umbridge, upcoming final end-of-year exams, early coursework for your NEWTs and trying to conjure a patronus. It meant your ability to relax was nowhere to be seen. 

But creating in the kitchen helped a little. 

“I don’t know.” You told him the truth. “I-I guess getting my Hogwarts letter. Kids at Primary school could be arseholes.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re not here.”

You nodded, taking a seat opposite him. “I guess but…I dunno. It was easier to deal with them here. McGonnagall doesn’t take bullying lightly.”

“And Muggle schools do?”

You hummed. “They mostly just see it as kids being assholes. There isn’t much you can do to change their personalities. They’re only learning from their parents.”

Fred sighed. “Sounds tough. But, surely you’ve got a really happy memory?”

You shrugged. “I’m not exactly an optimist. I see…the truth. Yes, Umbridge is the worst. But she’s worse than that because she’s not even a good teacher.”

“Have you been speaking to Hermione?”

“I’m being serious, Fred. You know Snape’s a git, but at least he’s a decent teacher and knows what he’s doing. If he hates one of us, he hates us all.”

“Beg to differ.”

You just raised an eyebrow at Fred. “I’d say he even detests Malfoy. Not as much as he hates Harry, but…maybe equal to the rest of us.”

“Why do you suppose he hates Harry so much? It would be much easier if we could get all the teachers on our side.”

“Because Harry’s dad bullied him.”

“What?”

“But you didn’t hear it from me.”

Fred crossed a finger over his heart. But he didn’t have to. The understanding look in his eyes was enough. 

“How do you know all of this?”

“My mum was in their year,” you told Fred. “Apparently James Potter could be a right git. Until he wasn’t.”

Fred looked at you to continue. Then you smiled, softly. 

“He was fifteen. Like I said, kids are arseholes. But some grow out of it.” 

Fred nodded understandably before smiling. 

“So, yes, Snape hates Harry that little bit extra. But it also doesn’t excuse his behaviour. Anyway, I’m getting off track. My point is, at least compared to Umbridge, Snape is still a decent Professor who actually teaches us something useful. Unlike the pink, prissy, little princess.”

Fred snorted and you couldn’t help but laugh, too. 

For a few more hours, you and Fred sat and talked about…anything really. Food. Family. School. The Muggle World and his dad’s obsession. 

“I guess as Dad always says…or, I guess muggles. ‘The truth will out’.”

Moving your empty bowl before reaching for Fred’s who simply lifted it himself, walked with you towards the sink. 

“We also say ‘it’s the hope that kills you’.”

“Really?” 

You nodded. 

“Well that’s depressing.”

With a raise of your eyebrows, you nodded. As you cleaned and Fred dried, Fred sighed. 

“You’ve got to have at least one happy memory that will work.”

“Maybe.”

“Why don’t you try it now?”

“What?”

Moving over to grab your wand from the table, Fred handed it to you. 

“Try it now. Maybe it’s because everyone was in the room. Like you said before, you’re stressed because of exams. Maybe you just need a calmer setting.”

“Fred, I don’t think-”

“Please?” He begged. “Just…try.”

Sighing, you looked at your wand in your hand. If nothing happened, it wasn’t like it was anything new. 

“Okay.”

Stepping into the middle of the kitchen, where there was enough space in front of the fire for you and Fred to stand, you closed your eyes. 

“Maybe think of a different memory.”

He had a point. Thinking of your Hogwarts letter hadn’t exactly been working. 

“I know you can do it.”

“Okay.”

“Come on, I believe in you.”

“Okay, Fred.”

Fred.

Despite having most of your happiest memories at Hogwarts, most of the ones that you had tried hadn’t exactly worked. 

But something you hadn’t tried was thinking about a memory with the one person who, since starting your sixth year, had made you…incredibly happy. 

He was the light you’d found when lost in the dark of exams and fear. 

Fred Weasley.

Your mind fell to one memory in particular. Fred had realised he had seen you before you’d talked to him in the library that fateful day. 

He’d seen you at the Yule Ball the year prior. He hadn’t spoken to you, but he did ask you some questions about it in the kitchen before Christmas break. 

That was when he found out you’d decided not to attend, wanting to make full use of the empty gardens and greenhouse. But, your friends insisted on you going. That you would go as a group and it would be great fun. 

They just forget to mention they all had dates. So, you were left to sit and watch their coats and shawls, as well as their drinks. 

“So…you never danced?”

You shook your head, a small laugh forming though you didn’t know why. Maybe it was the nerves of admitting it outloud. 

“What?” Fred seemed truly shocked. “Did no-one ask you to dance? Not even once?”

You chuckled again as you stirred the filling for your mince pies. “Nope. But, it was probably for the best.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’ve got two left feet,” you told him. “I can barely walk in a straight line, let alone manage to avoid stepping on someone’s feet during a dance.”

“Rubbish!”

“It’s true!”

“No, it’s not. And I can prove it.”

“Oh, yeah? How?”

Pulling you away from the simmering mixture, Fred pulled you into the middle of the kitchen stone floor before holding you in a dancing frame. 

“Fred!”

“Look, my mum taught me how to dance. And I can teach you. You’ve just got to trust me. Do you trust me, Y/n?”

Explicitly. 

“Yes.”

Fred smiled at you, holding you a little closer. “Good.”

But when you looked down at your feet, he let go. But not for long. Tilting your chin up, he had you focus on him. “Eyes on me, love. Not your feet.”

“Are you sure about this, Fred? I mean-”

“You’re gonna go back on this leg first,” Fred gestured. “Then I’m gonna lead you around. I promise I won’t let you fall.”

Holding true to your word, you did trust him. And, eventually you got the hang of it. Letting him lead you was a difficult concept to grasp. More often than not, you’d done a lot of things independently. And, even though it took two to dance, it was still proving difficult. 

Until it wasn't and Fred was graciously waltzing you around the stone floor of the kitchen. 

That was the memory that filled you, from the very tips of your toes to the top of your eyes. 

“Expecto Patronum.”

From the end of your wand, carried wisps of blue light until suddenly both yourself and Fred saw a Wolf. It ran around a little before standing on the counter top and howled loudly. 

“Oh, my god.”

“That was brilliant!” Fred picked you up. “I knew you could do it.”

You didn’t have much time to do anything other than smile and hug him back, because both of you suddenly heard footsteps hurdling down the hallway. 

“Shit.”

“Quick.”

With a wave of your wand, your patronus was gone. And, with a wave of Fred’s the bowls were away with the rest, the soup on the stove was put to one side and the fire was crackled out. 

Just as the heavy wooden doors blew open, you and Fred dived under the kitchen cabinets. 

“In here.” Fred mouthed as footsteps and groaning got closer. 

“What is it, Mrs Norris? Where are they?” 

You shook your head at Fred. “We won’t fit,” you mouthed. 

Peaking above the edge, Fred saw the back of a few Slytherin boys and Filch. There was just enough time to shrink the pots inside. Fred got in first before quickly pulling you in with him. 

However, with the cabinet door slamming shut, you swore under your breath and quickly reached for your wand. 

Both you and Fred could hear footsteps growing closer as cabinet doors were ripped open, rifled through and then slammed shut. 

“This one!”

With a quick concealment charm from both yourself and Fred, you both held your breath as Draco and Filch looked inside. You silently prayed to Merlin that they didn’t inspect anymore and just left. 

It was compromising enough, the position you were in, laying on top of Fred inside a school kitchen cabinet; aside from all the other kinds of rules you were both breaking by being awake and in the kitchens at such a late hour. 

“It’s that bloody cat,” you heard Draco moan. “Nobody’s here.”

Another quick meow came from Mrs Norris before yourself and Fred heard the repeated running of footsteps away from the kitchens. 

Only when the kitchen sounded completely quiet, did you or Fred even move to breathe properly. 

“Are you okay?” Fred asked. 

You nodded, but lay your forehead on his chest briefly. “That was a close call. Are you alright?”

Fred nodded. “Never better.”

Suddenly realising the full extent of the compromising position you were very nearly caught in, you scoffed and hit his chest. But he just laughed. 

“Watch your head,” Fred told you twice as you helped him out. 

“Yes, Fred, I’m watching- ow!” 

“Ooh, even I felt that.” Fred said as she crawled out and stood beside you. “Here, let me see. Oh, you’ll be fine. Bit of a nasty bruise probably, but you’ll live.”

“Thank you, Doctor Weasely.”

“No problem.”

You chuckled, still rubbing the back of your head. 

“We better be getting back.”

Fred reached out for you. “They’ll still be patrolling the halls. We can’t risk it.”

“You’re probably right. What do you suggest we do in the meantime?”

What followed was two hours of you teaching Fred how to make the healing balm. He seemed to pick it up right away, which was when he explained what he and George had been working on. Including the plans to open their own store after graduation.

“Fred?” You called out, just before you went your separate ways. No doubt Filch would have Umbridge tighten the rules enough to choke everyone, after tonight. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For helping me. And…good luck.”

“What for?” He called back with a smile and a hushed whisper. 

“With your shop. I think you’ll do wonderful things.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That means a lot.” Fred laid his hand over his heart before you gave him one final courteous nod and headed straight for your common room. 

Two weeks later, Dumbledore’s Army was broken into. 

“What’s your name?” Fred asked the young boy. 

“Michael,” he sniffed. 

One look at the hand Michael was covering and Fred knew Umbridge had gotten to the poor boy, too. 

“It’s okay. It’ll heal up soon. Look, ours aren’t so bad now.” George showed him. 

Whether it was luck or fate, you started walking out into the courtyard. Drawn to you, Fred looked up before whistling sharply. 

Looking around, you spotted both Fred and George with their heads popping out of the archway. Fred beckoned you over, and once you entered under the shelter, you realised why. 

“Not again,” you said to yourself before crouching in front of the young boy, asking his name. 

I must not disrupt class, was scored into his hand. 

“Do you have any?” Fred asked you, crouching beside you. 

Reaching into your bag, you explained, “Just in luck. Made a fresh batch this morning.”

“This is good stuff, Michael.” Fred told him. “Y/n’s the best healer in all of Hogwarts. Learned from Madam Pomfry herself. She’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

“Now, this may sting a little, but only for a second.” You softly warned Michael. 

“Want to hold my hand?” George asked as the young boy nodded. 

Holding onto George’s hand, Fred held the pot whilst you lightly dabbed the balm over his scars. There was a small hiss of pain from Michael’s lips before he settled down. 

“It’s all gone,” he whispered in shock. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled, screwing the lid back on the jar before handing it over to the boy. “You keep hold of that one. Give some to your friends. All you need is a little dab and wipe it over the words. They’ll be gone in seconds.”

“Thank you.”

“You better go and find your friends. Go on.” George encouraged. 

As the boy ran down the hallway, Harry came running out of Potion’s class and into the courtyard himself. Just in time for you all to hear the small cough leave Umbridge as she appeared. 

“You know, George. I always thought our futures lay outside the world of academic achievement.”

“Fred,” George smiled. “I’ve been thinking exactly the same thing.”

You smiled to yourself. “Please be careful. Both of you.”

Fred smiled, leaning down and pressing a small kiss to your cheek. “Always, love.”

You might not have been taking your OWLs, but you definitely heard the commotion. 

“What the hell is that?”

You laughed a little to yourself, turning back to your study parchment. “The sound of Freedom.”

And it truly was. At least, for most of the students. But there wasn’t any balm or potion you could brew to heal the loss that Harry suffered inside the Ministry of Magic. 

“You sneaky little liar!” 

It was Graduation day for the seventh years – including both Fred and George Weasley. 

You smiled as you poured multiple drinks at the table with a wave of your wand. “Hi, Fred.”

“You said I wouldn’t see you again unless it was at our shop!” 

You shrugged with a smile. “It would ruin the surprise. This will be the last day you’ll see me before Diagon Alley.”

“How did you-”

You smiled at him. “I’m a witch, Fred. I know a lot more than you think. And, also, George spotted me like twenty minutes ago and told me.”

“That…scoudrel! I can’t believe he told you before I got to.”

You smiled. “It really is wonderful news, Fred.”

“Well, thank you. Is there anything I can help with?”

You shook your head. “Just enjoy your graduation day. After the year we’ve all had, it was well earned.”

Fred nodded. “But how can I enjoy my day when you’re here? Behind a table.”

Looking over the large crowd filled with teary-eyed parents and students alike, you spotted the movers inside the Great Hall preparing for the Night portion of the day’s celebration. 

“There is a slow dance at the end of the night.” You told him. “If you still want to, I’ll share one dance with you.”

“You will?” Fred couldn’t hide his excitement. 

You nodded. “I will.”

Hurrying behind the desk, Fred held your face in his hands before pressing another kiss to your cheek. “Wonderful.”

You smiled. “Now, go, have fun. I’ve got things to sort through.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by Molly or Arthur the fact that Fred couldn’t tear his eyes from the edge of the Great Hall. First, at the feast where his eyes continuously tracked you, his hand reaching out and brushing yours as you passed. Then during the last official school dance everyone had to do. And finally, as the night was drawing to a close, Fred’s eyes were tracking you, almost fearful if he looked away you’d disappear forever. 

“You better bloody well ask her to dance,” Molly told him before herself and Arthur called it a night. 

George smiled. “Don’t worry, mum. I doubt Fred needs reminding.”

“I guess you’re right. Oh, we’re so proud of you boys.”

“So proud!”

As Molly and Arthur said their final farewells to leave both Fred and George for their final few hours at Hogwarts, they turned around once they knew neither twin was looking. 

“Molly.”

“Oh, let’s just stay. Just to see them dance. Honestly, dear, I have a good feeling about them.”

“We haven’t even met the poor girl yet.”

“Exactly my point,” Molly told her husband. “What if, in a few years, they get married?”

“Then we’ll get to see their first dance.”

“But how wonderful would it be to say we were there for this?”

It took less persuading than Arthur thought. So, sitting at the back behind a multitude of parents, Molly and Arthur Weasley watched as their son walked straight towards you, placed your hand in his own and walked you directly towards the dancefloor. 

“Oh, they’ve danced before,” Arthur whispered. 

“How can you tell?”

“Look at them. They glide.”

Molly peaked over one of the parent’s shoulders. “Ooh, they do glide.”

Eventually, they did leave. But only after George caught them both.