#notreal

-Summary: In the Slytherin dungeons after curfew, a perfectionist student collides with Fred Weasley. Teasing turns honest as he reminds her she is enough as she is. One reckless, star lit adventure changes how she sees him and herself.

-Word count: 1002

-Pairing: Slytherin reader x Fred Weasley

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The dungeons were always quiet after curfew. That was why you liked them.

While the rest of the castle slept, you sat at your desk beneath the low green glow of the lamps, your parchment scattered with notes, your quill bleeding ink from hours of restless writing. You were not sure what you were still studying for; you knew the material by heart, but stopping meant thinking, and you did not want to think.

The world expected Slytherins to be sharp, composed, untouchable. You had built yourself into that perfectly polished version: top marks, top posture, never letting anyone see the cracks.

And yet, some nights, it felt as though the whole act was suffocating you.

That was when the laugh echoed down the corridor.

You froze. It was a sound that did not belong here, too bright, too alive. A Gryffindor sound. And then he appeared.

Fred Weasley.

Tall, dishevelled, grin far too confident for someone wandering into the Slytherin dungeons after hours. His tie was loose, his wand tucked behind his ear, and his eyes that impossible mix of mischief and warmth locked right on you.

“Well, well,” he said, stepping closer. “Did not think I would find a Slytherin up this late. Plotting world domination?”

You did not look up. “Do you not have a tower to be in, Weasley? Or do Gryffindors just wander around waiting for detentions?”

He laughed softly. “Guilty as charged. But you looked lonely. Thought I would keep you company.”

You set your quill down and finally glanced his way. “You don’t even like Slytherins.”

He tilted his head. “True. But you're not like the rest.”

You snorted. “You don’t even know me.”

Fred leaned against the nearest desk, arms folded, eyes glinting. “I know you are here alone, rewriting the same sentence for the third time. I know your jaw tightens every time someone mentions ‘expectations’. And I know you pretend not to care, but you do.”

You blinked. “You have been watching me?”

“Observing,” he said innocently. “Big difference. Besides, you are hard not to notice.”

Your heart stuttered in that annoying way it always did around him. Fred had that rare talent for making you feel seen and completely unguarded at the same time.

“You should not be here,” you muttered, turning back to your parchment. “If you get caught—”

“I will not,” he interrupted, hopping up to sit on the desk across from you. “You would cover for me.”

You raised a brow. “And why would I do that?”

He smiled, softer this time. “Because deep down, you like the trouble I bring.”

You tried to hold his gaze, but it was useless. He had this maddening way of looking at you as if he already knew your secrets.

Fred’s voice dropped, quieter now. “Why do you do it? All this?” He gestured at the books, the parchment, the ink-stained hands. “You have got the brains, the drive, but you look miserable.”

You did not answer.

He leaned closer, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know,” he said gently, “wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are.”

The words struck harder than you expected. You swallowed, staring down at your ink-stained fingertips.

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered. “You do not have people expecting you to be perfect all the time.”

He chuckled softly. “You think being a Weasley means no expectations? Half the school assumes I am just a joke with a wand. The other half expects me to live up to a name I did not even choose.”

You looked up at him then, really looked, and for the first time, Fred did not look untouchable. He looked human.

“Maybe that is why I like you,” he said after a pause. “You do not buy into anyone’s act. Not even your own.”

You let out a small, humourless laugh. “You have a funny way of complimenting people.”

Fred’s grin returned, brighter this time. “It worked, did it not?”

He slid off the desk and offered his hand. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Let us go.”

You frowned. “It is nearly midnight.”

“Exactly. The perfect time for bad decisions.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “You have been locked up down here for hours. You need to breathe.”

You hesitated, then, against your better judgment, took his hand.

He led you through dim corridors and up narrow staircases, your footsteps echoing softly on stone. You did not realise where you were going until the cool night air hit your face at the Astronomy Tower.

The sky stretched wide and endless above you, the stars sharp and clear. Fred let go of your hand just long enough to rummage through his pocket and pull out a small box.

“Fireworks?” you guessed, smiling in spite of yourself.

“Not just fireworks,” he said, grinning. “Experimental fireworks. Highly unstable. Definitely not Ministry approved.”

You crossed your arms. “So this is how I die.”

He laughed and lit one. The spark hissed, then shot into the sky, bursting into silver serpents and red lions twisting together before fading into glittering smoke.

You could not help but gasp. “You made that?”

Fred shrugged. “You inspired it.”

Your heart stumbled again, traitorously. “Me?”

“Yes. You, all steel and grace and impossible standards. But beneath all that, you shine brighter than anyone else. You just do not see it yet.”

The words lingered between you, raw and real.

“Fred…” you began, unsure what to say.

He turned to you, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. “Do not try to be someone else, love. You are already the best version of yourself there is.”

For once, you did not deflect. You did not hide behind sarcasm or a smirk. You just looked at him, and in that moment under the hum of fading starlight, you let yourself believe him.

DESIDERIUM AMORIS.

AU: Hotch is newly gone and Emily has nightmares about not being able to save him.

In original idea he was supposed to die but I felt kind.

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Blood, there was blood everywhere. All she could see was blood. It wasn't hers, no. It was his blood. The only person who mattered for her, the one she was trying to save for months, trying to keep him, and his son, safe.

She failed.

She failed at keeping them safe. That's why there was blood everywhere. That's why she'd have to live with the guilt for the rest of her life.

BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.

THE SOUND OF SIRENS.

The team is coming, they're gonna get here and they'd not be here soon enough. He's gonna die. He's dead.

Emily is crying on her knees, hugging his dead body and whispering sweet nothings. Everything she should've said before but couldn't. She promised him to tell him those things when the team rescues him from Mr. Scratch and they get their happy ending. He made her promise him that.

It was all for nothing, team failed, -SHE FAILED- and now he's dead. He's gone. And all she could do was hug his dead body, kiss his forehead and get stained with his blood. The blood Mr. Scratch spilled.

He didn't have to kill Emily. No. He knew the scene before her would kill her enough. It'd be enough to destroy her.

She's zoning out. She can't see or hear anything. All she feels is his body, still warm -there is no pulse- against hers. She feels it and she cries. She cries and cries and cries.

Emily wakes up from another nightmare, screaming and sweating. Her breath uneven, her whole body shaking with fear and pain. She was moving a lot in her dream, the nightmare making her frel unsettled, scared, dead. Just like he was in her worst nightmares.

It was 5:30 in the morning, the sun was starting to peek through her window. She took deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out. She tried calming herself down like that.

She failed. Her eyes was getting teary as soon as she remembered the dream. The shaking not going away, the feeling of dread, his dead body against her making it no better.

It's been 6 months since he went into witness protection, 6 months since she came back because he, and the team, asked her to. 6 months after she heard that she had to lose him again. It's not been easy, total opposite. Ever since she knew why he went into witness protection the nightmares hasn't left her. They were always there. Reminder about how they've not catched that son of a bitch yet, how he's still terrorising them. How he is still gone because of that cunt.

Emily closed her eyes, trying to remember that Aaron was out there, safe with his son, that it was impossible for Scratch to get him. That wasn't helpful. Scratch was a genius, he even broke Hotch, someone who never showed emotion, who tried to be as professional as possible, who did everything not to break again after his wife's death, after the whole faking Emily's death thing. But Scratch broke him, he did things nobody knew he could to Hotch.

She was scared. Every time she thought or closed her eyes for a minute longer she'd see it again and again and again. The only time she felt like this before, this scared, this dread, was when Doyle went after her, when she had to leave her found family to keep them safe. They still didn't give up on them, they gave her light in the darkness.

She remembers the day she heard about how Hotch was calling her Agent Prentiss despite her being a target. How he had to dissociate himself from the case so he would stay objective and not kill Doyle with his hand, so that he could save Emily. Rossi and JJ told her about all that. And now she misses him.

Tears start running down her face again, falling like raindrops on her rosey cheeks. If anyone asked her how she felt she'd tell them to imagine if their heart was taken, squeezed, cut and put it in them again. She felt like ripping her hair and whole body off. Wanting to stop all those feelings and fears, but she couldn't. It was impossible. As she tried to keep her cool, get up and get ready for work she remembered her worst nightmare of the ones she's been having for the last 6 months.

Mr. Scratch was standing there with Hotch, his hand on Aaron's heart, ready to cut him as Hotch laid there, unable to move. Emily was there trying to stop him, begging him to stop, to hurt her instead but he wasn't listening.

Hotch wanted to get up, he struggled against Scratch.

"Calm down, Agent Hotchner, it'll hurt less if you're not stubborn." Scracth told him and smiled violently.

"Please, just get her out of there, please." He begged the killer, as if hoping that he had any feelings, or remorse and would listen to him. He couldn't let it happen, something couldn't happen to Emily again. Not anymore. He wouldn't let it.

Scracth smiled his evil smile and looked at her.

"Watching her crying is more fun." He said and put a knife through him.

Hotch yelled as the pain shot through him, the force of the knife hurting more than it should. He turned halfway, since he couldn't move and groaned.

He could hear Emily's cries and begging, it was so distant, so small and soft, she didn't want to hear her cry. No. Her face should be lighten up every time. Her cheeks getting the rose colour every time he told her how beautiful she is. Her smile getting bigger when she realised he remembered the small thing she told him months, years ago. Her eyes shining the most beautiful in the darkest of places.

-

He couldn't remember how many times he was stabbed, or where he was stabbed. Only thing he remembered was her rushing to him, seeing her beautiful face filled with tears, like rain with thunder. He tried to tell her to stop crying, that it's okay. But all he felt was him losing blood from his own mouth.

"Shhh, don't talk, it's okay. The team will come. You're gonna be okay." Emily said and caressed his face, kissing his forehead as she rocked their bodies together.

Hotch whispered her name. It broke her. Even in his dying moments he whispered her name in the most delicate way, like it was angel's name, like speaking it brought him to heaven. With every strength he had, he took his hand up and touched her face. She looked at him, held his hand with her own. She cried and Hotch smiled at her. "It's ok-" he tried saying but failed. It was okay he meant. He tried caressing her face, and trying to get the courage and strength to tell her how he felt. He was dying, he had to say it.

"I- I- I love you, Em." he said with a smile. Even in his dying moments he looked at her with a smile and sparkling eyes that were omly meant for her. He spoke her name in the most intimate, beautiful way possible.

He smiled one last time. Feeling his body dissociating, him losing the senses and not being able to hear her anymore. The hazel sparkling eyes found the black, but after a second, something in the depths of the light pair seemed to vanish, leaving them, blank, and empty. The hand holding Emily dropped to the floor, and Aaron moved no more.

"NO, NO, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO."

Emily opened her eyes and tried to forget the dream. Hotch is okay, he's alright. He will be okay and they'll be able to save him and Jack.

Oh, Jack. How she missed the sweet, adorable baby too. The replica of his mother but however the soft character of his father only few ones had a pleasure of knowing. She misses them so much. Every time she has a nightmare or thinks about a possibility where they fail at catching this guy, she wants to cry and drown in her sadness.

She misses them so much. She misses everything. Spending time with them, helping Jack build a lego set as Aaron watched them from afar. Making breakfast for them. Putting Jack to bed and reading bed time stories for him. How Hotch would show one of his rare smiles to her when they were alone, vulnerable and true to themselves...

~~~~~~~~

Emily sat on the jet, going through files and some paperwork that needed to be done after the case. Everyone, except her and Luke, was asleep.

She couldn't find a sleep, not after today's case. Not when the case hit too close and would trigger the nightmares. No, she couldn't do it.

So she did what Hotch taught her - drowning herself in work until your mind thinks of nothing else. Not very healthy way of dealing with things but their job wasn't healthy, nor were they ever. The job took many from them, nobody cares if their coping mechanisms are healthy or not - except for psychiatrists, perhaps..

She went though some more important stuff and put the files away. Sighing as she looked out of the window and looked at the world. She wondered if Hotch was asleep or was looking at the same sky, thinking about her and when he'd be free.

She misses him terribly. The only person who could help her right now, who'd see right through her and make sure she talks and doesn't bury the pain deep inside her is gone. In her dreams he's dead. In reality he's gone and she can't see him. She sighs and gets up to make coffee.

She regretted everything right now. Not speaking about her feelings, not speaking of them until something bad happened. This shouldn't be like that. She wasn't supposed to worry if she could save him or not. He was supposed to be alive and well. She was supposed to kiss his face and tell him how much she missed him, loved him. How she wanted to start a family with him despite being scared of commitment and having attachment issues. She sighed and composed herself not to cry here. Not now. She can wait til she gets home.

She made coffee and sat down there. Looking out of the window as she was watching the sky more closely and focused, she saw the star of Sirius. She smiled and her eyes started getting teary again as she remembered how much of a nerd Hotch was and how he was interested in stars, mostly because of his interest in Star Wars. She remembered how he told her about Sirius. It was their first kiss too, actually.

~~~~~

They were sitting on his balcony and drinking wine. The sky was very clear, stars shining in the blue sky, moonlight being the only light in the beautiful darkness outside.

""Do you know what star it is ?" Hotch suddenly asked and looked at Emily with a smile.. She shook her head, she knew nothing about stars, she wasn't even interested.

"Sirius," he told her and suddenly she was very interested about how he knew that, why and she wanted to know more about stars. "I was a nerd back in highschool, I was insanely interested in Star Wars universe, which is about wars in galaxy by the way, so I started learning about galaxy and stars. I find them fascinating, each of them are beautiful and different in their own ways." He told her and looked up at the sky.

"Okay, Dr. Reid, tell me more." she joked and laughed with him.

"I'm not Reid."

"Yes, because I'm definitely not attracted to him."

"Oh, and are you attracted to me, Agent Prentiss?" he asked with a teasing tone.

Emily blushed, her nervous system kicking her, anxiety and fear going through her currently.

"Isn't the sky pretty ?" She asked suddenly.

Without taking his eyes off of her he nodded, "Yes, it is. The most beautiful it's looked ever."

The world falls silent around them as Emily looks back at him. In this perfect midnight silence the wing is whispering about their love, telling the tale of theirs with a happy ending. For now they're the only ones that matter, they are the ones who exist in this moment. With perfect silence, in the clear sky , full of stars, their love story is being written.

He looks at her lips, and moves his hand on her chin. Looking up at her again, eyes shining beautifully under the moonlight. With slow movement, in this moonlight, quiet and beautiful, he moves her and kisses her lips softly. As if he was more harsh he'd break her and the moment will be ruined. But it wasn't, instead they kissed softly until they were out of air. Then giggling like highschool lovers did behind closed doors after their first kiss with their boyfriends.

~~~~~

It's been months since Emily thought anything positive and remembered their happy moments. But right now, this one single memory reminded her that there's something to look forward to, something to keep fighting for. The memory gave her a hope, a hope for a better future. That after all they're not cursed with eternal pain and they could be reunited and happy. Not today, not tomorrow, perhaps not even the day after. But sometimes. She'll make sure she gets his boys back safe and sound, hugs them and never lets them go again. It doesn't if fate has other plans, she'll fight it. She'll fight for their happy future as a family. She'll bring them back, alive, safe and well.