#weasleytwins

"Right. Scientific. Like when you 'scientifically' observed her during Potions and melted your cauldron?" 

"That was a structural defect in the pewter." 

YN shifted. She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her quill scratching furiously against a roll of parchment. She had this intense focus that was honestly a bit terrifying. It was also, unfortunately, the most attractive thing I’d ever seen. It was the challenge of it. I could make a room full of Slytherins laugh (eventually), I could charm McGonagall into reducing a detention, but YN treated my existence like a rounding error she was trying to correct. 

"She’s out of your league," George said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "She knows words with more than four syllables. She understands Arithmancy. You thought a dodecahedron was a type of dinosaur." 

"I was six!" I swatted his hand away. "And she’s not out of my league. She’s just… calibrated differently." 

"Go on then," George challenged, grinning that wicked grin that usually meant one of us was about to end up in the Hospital Wing. "Go ask her about her… I don't know, her rune translation. Dazzle her with your intellect." 

"I don't need intellect," I straightened my tie, which was currently acting as a headband, and pulled it down to my neck. "I have charisma." 

I strode out from the stacks, adopting what I hoped was a casual, confident swagger. I approached her table. She didn't look up. The scratching of the quill didn't even pause. 

I cleared my throat. Loudly. 

Nothing. 

I leaned my hip against the table, casting a shadow over her work. "Evening, YLN. Bit late for heavy lifting, isn't it? That book looks like it could crush a first year." 

YN paused. She didn't look up immediately. She carefully dotted an 'i', set her quill down, and then slowly raised her eyes. They were grey, sharp, and currently filled with a polite sort of exhaustion. 

"Weasley," she said. Her voice was cool, like the stone floor of the dungeons. "To what do I owe the pleasure of you blocking my candlelight?" 

"Just checking on the welfare of the student body," I said, grinning. "You’ve been sitting here for three hours. I was starting to worry you’d calcified." 

"I have an Ancient Runes essay due tomorrow," she said, looking back at her parchment. "Unlike some, I don't plan on inventing a sweet that makes me vomit to get out of class." 

"Puking Pastilles are a marvel of magical engineering, actually. Very complex charm work involved." 

"I'm sure," she murmured, dipping her quill again. "If you don't mind, Fred? I’m trying to calculate the semantic drift of the chaotic rune sequences in the 13th century." 

"Right," I said, faltering slightly. "Riveting stuff. Semantic drift. Chaos. Big fan of chaos, personally." 

"I've noticed." She looked at me again, her brow furrowing slightly. "Is there something you actually want? Or are you just hovering?" 

I want you to look at me like I’m not a waste of time, I thought. "Just wondering if you wanted a break," I said instead. "Kitchens? House elves are knocking up a fresh batch of tarts." 

She sighed, a small puff of air escaping her lips. For a second, her expression softened. "I can't. I really have to finish this." 

"All right," I backed off, hands raised in surrender. "Don't let me stop the drift." 

I walked back to George, who was shaking his head in mock pity. But as I turned the corner, I looked back. YN was watching me go. She held my gaze for a split second before snapping her head back to her books. 

"See?" I whispered to George. "She looked." 

"She looked annoyed, mate." 

"Reaction is reaction," I said. "I'm wearing her down." 

It took three weeks to upgrade from "annoyed glances" to "actual conversation." 

The breakthrough happened, ironically, because of a prank that went wrong. George and I were testing a prototype for a Portable Swamp in the third-floor corridor. We’d miscalculated the humidity variable, and instead of a swamp, we’d created a localized, high-velocity mudslide. 

I was currently ankle-deep in sludge, trying to vanish it before Filch arrived, when I heard a familiar sigh behind me. 

I turned around. YN was standing on the dry stone step, her Ravenclaw tie perfectly straight, looking at the disaster with a critical eye. 

"You used the wrong viscosity charm," she said flatly. 

I wiped a glob of mud from my cheek. "Did I now?" 

"Yes. You’re using a fluid-based expansion charm. For a swamp, you need a semi-solid suspension charm. Otherwise, you just get… this." She gestured to the river of muck sliding toward the trophy room. "Flowing dirt." 

I stared at her. "You know how to make a Portable Swamp?" 

"I know the theoretical arithmancy behind manipulating matter density," she corrected, stepping carefully over a puddle. She pulled out her wand. She flicked her wrist—a sharp, precise movement—and muttered an incantation I didn’t recognize. 

The mud stopped flowing. It bubbled, thickened, and then rapidly condensed into a neat, dry pile of dirt in the center of the hall. 

She tucked her wand away. "Clean up the dirt, Weasley. And check your variables next time." 

She turned to leave, her robes swishing. 

"YN!" I called out. 

She stopped. 

"That was bloody brilliant." 

She looked over her shoulder. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I know." 

That was the moment. That tiny smile. It was like seeing the sun come out in the middle of a blizzard. I was a goner. 

After that, I became a nuisance. A persistent, charming, ginger nuisance. I started sitting near her in the Great Hall, engaging her in debates about magical theory that I barely understood just to hear her talk. I walked her to classes she didn't share with me. I left prototype joke products on her desk with notes asking for "professional analysis." 

She pretended to hate it. She rolled her eyes, she sighed, she told me I was a distraction. 

But she kept the products. And she stopped telling me to leave. 

It was mid-October when things shifted from playful to... complicated. 

The war was brewing. You could feel it in the castle walls. The Daily Prophet was full of disappearances. The sky seemed permanently grey. People were scared, and scared people don't laugh as much. George and I were working overtime to keep morale up, but it was exhausting. 

I found YN in the Astronomy Tower. It was past curfew, bitterly cold, and the wind was whipping around the stone parapets. She was wrapped in a thick wool cloak, staring out at the Forbidden Forest. 

"You're going to freeze," I said, stepping out of the shadows. 

She didn't jump. She just tightened her grip on the stone railing. "I like the cold. It clears my head." 

I moved to stand beside her, leaning my elbows on the ledge. "Thinking about semantic drift again?" 

"Thinking about my parents," she said quietly. 

I went still. I knew her parents were Muggles. Dentists, or architects, or something normal and safe. "They okay?" 

"They're confused," she said. "I sent them a letter telling them I might not come home for Christmas. That it’s safer if I stay here. They don't understand why coming home is suddenly so dangerous." She looked at me, her eyes vulnerable in a way I hadn't seen before. "They don't know there’s a maniac trying to take over the world." 

"They're safer not knowing," I said softly. "Ignorance is bliss, and all that." 

"Ignorance is a variable you can't control," she countered, her voice shaking slightly. "If they don't know the danger, they can't calculate the risk. They can't protect themselves." 

"That's what you're for. And the Order. And… well, me." 

She laughed, a brittle sound. "You? You're going to protect my Muggle parents in London?" 

"I'd give it a go," I said, turning to face her fully. "I'm handy with a wand, despite what Snape says." 

She looked at me, really looked at me. The wind blew a strand of hair across her face, and without thinking, I reached out and tucked it back. 

Her breath hitched. She didn't pull away. My hand lingered on her cheek. Her skin was cold, but her eyes were burning. 

"Why do you do that?" she whispered. 

"Do what?" 

"Act like everything is a joke, but then… look at me like that." 

"Maybe because you're the only thing I take seriously," I said. The words tumbled out before I could check them for safety. It was true, though. With George, with the business, with the war—I was always performing. With YN, I just wanted to be Fred. 

She closed her eyes, leaning slightly into my hand. "Fred," she breathed. 

I leaned in. The distance between us vanished. I kissed her, and for a moment, the cold wind, the looming war, the fear—it all just stopped. She tasted like peppermint and cold air. Her hands found the lapels of my robes, pulling me closer, anchoring me. 

It was perfect. Until she pulled away. 

She stepped back, her eyes wide, hand covering her mouth. "I can't." 

"YN—" 

"No," she shook her head, backing toward the stairs. "No, this is a mistake. I can't do this. Not now." 

"Why?" I demanded, hurt flashing through me. "Because I'm a Weasley? Because I'm not smart enough?" 

"Because you're a target!" she snapped, her voice cracking. "I can't… I can't care about you, Fred. I can't have another person to lose. The probability of casualty is too high." 

She turned and ran down the spiral stairs, leaving me alone with the wind. 

She avoided me for a week. 

It was miserable. George stopped making jokes about it after day two, when he found me staring at a blank piece of parchment for an hour. "Give her space, Fred," he’d said. "She's scared. We all are." 

But I didn't want to give her space. Space was where the silence lived. Space was where she convinced herself that being alone was safer. 

I cornered her on a Tuesday, coming back from Charms. She was walking fast, head down, clutching her books like a shield. I stepped in front of her path near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. 

"Move, Fred," she said, not looking up. 

"No." 

She tried to side-step. I mirrored her. 

"Fred, I am not in the mood." 

"I don't care about the mood, YN. I care that you're treating me like a stranger because you're bad at math." 

Her head snapped up, eyes flashing. "Excuse me?" 

"You heard me. You're a Ravenclaw. You're supposed to be brilliant. But you've got the equation wrong." 

"I am trying to be rational!" she hissed, looking around to ensure the corridor was empty. She dragged me by the sleeve into a small alcove behind a suit of armor. "Do you have any idea what’s happening out there? People are dying. Families are being torn apart." 

"I know!" I shouted, my voice echoing slightly. I lowered it, stepping closer, crowding her space. "I know, YN. My dad was attacked by a snake the size of a sofa last year. My brother is in Romania dealing with dragons. I know exactly what’s happening." 

"Then why are you pushing this?" Her voice trembled. "Why do you want to start something that’s doomed? If we’re together, and something happens to you… it will destroy me. I can’t afford that distraction. I need to be sharp. I need to survive." 

She placed her hands on my chest, trying to push me away. "Please, Fred. Just let it go. Find some nice Gryffindor girl who thinks your jokes are funny and doesn't overthink everything. Get rid of me." 

I grabbed her hands. I held them tight against my chest, right over my heart so she could feel how fast it was beating. 

"Is that what you think this is?" I asked, my voice rough. "You think I'm just looking for a laugh?" 

"I think you're looking for fun, and I am not fun right now. I am terrified." 

"I'm terrified too!" I admitted. "That’s the point! The world is going to hell, YN. It’s dark and it’s miserable and we might not make it to thirty. That’s exactly why I can’t stay away from you. Because when I’m with you, I’m not just waiting for the next bad thing to happen. I’m actually living." 

She looked down at our joined hands, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Fred, please. It's too hard. Just… go." 

I let go of her hands. I took a step back. 

She let out a shaky breath, looking relieved and devastated at the same time. She adjusted her bag, wiping her face. "Thank you. It’s for the best. You’ll see. In a week you’ll forget all about—" 

I didn't leave. I leaned back against the stone wall, crossed my arms, and stared at her. 

She paused, frowning. "What are you doing?" 

"Waiting." 

"Waiting for what?" 

"For you to finish talking rubbish." 

"I am not—I told you to go!" 

I pushed off the wall and took a slow step toward her. The playful glint was gone from my eyes; I knew I looked intense, maybe even a little dangerous. I wasn't the joker right now. I was a man fighting for the only thing that made sense. 

"YN," I said, locking eyes with her. "Do I look like I'm easy to get rid of?" 

She froze. The question hung in the air between us, heavy and electric. 

"I’ve spent six years blowing up toilets and turning corridors into swamps," I continued, my voice low and steady. "I’ve been sent nearly four hundred howlers by my mother and I haven't changed a bit. I’ve battled boggarts, banshees, and Merlin knows whatever else there is. I am the most stubborn, persistent, annoying bloke in this entire castle." 

I took another step. She backed up until she hit the stone wall of the alcove. 

"You think you can just calculate the odds and scare me off?" I shook my head slowly. "You think telling me it's 'dangerous' is going to make me run? You don't know me as well as you think, YLN." 

"Fred..." Her voice was a whisper. 

"I am not a variable you can cancel out," I said, placing my hands on the wall on either side of her head, boxing her in. "I’m the constant. Whether you like it or not. I am going to be here. I am going to make you laugh when you want to cry. I am going to carry your books even when you tell me not to. And if this war comes for us? I am going to stand right in front of you." 

She stared up at me, her chest heaving. The logic in her eyes was warring with something else. Something raw. 

"You're an idiot," she whispered, but there was no heat in it. 

"I'm a Gryffindor," I corrected, a small smirk returning to my lips. "Brave to the point of stupidity. And I am crazy about you." 

She looked at me for a long, agonizing moment. Then, the fight went out of her. Her shoulders dropped. She let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. 

"You really are impossible," she said. 

"I prefer 'tenacious'." 

"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?" 

"Not a chance." 

She reached up, grabbing the front of my robes, and yanked me down. 

This kiss wasn't like the one on the Astronomy Tower. That one was tentative. This one was desperate. It was a promise. It was an acceptance of the risk. She kissed me like she was trying to memorize me, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer as if she could merge our atoms. 

I wrapped my arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground, crushing her against me. I needed her to feel it—that I was solid, that I was real, that I wasn't going anywhere. 

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathless. She rested her forehead against mine, her eyes closed. 

"Okay," she whispered. 

"Okay?" 

"Okay," she opened her eyes. The grey was clear now. The calculation was done. "If we're going to do this… we do it my way. No unnecessary risks. You wear the protective charms I make you. You don't go looking for trouble unless trouble finds you first." 

I grinned, brushing my thumb over her lower lip. "I can negotiate on the trouble part." 

"Fred." 

"Fine. No looking for trouble. Unless George starts it." 

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. A real smile. "I can't believe I'm dating a chaos demon." 

"You love it." 

"I'm currently evaluating the data." 

"And?" 

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me quickly, sweetly. "The data suggests I'm in trouble." 

The rest of the year was a blur of stolen moments. We found corners of the castle that even the Marauder's Map didn't seem to care about. She helped me study for my NEWTs (or at least, she tried, until I distracted her), and I helped her relax. 

I learned that YN wasn't just books and logic. She had a dry, wicked sense of humor that could cut George down in seconds. She liked sugar quills but hated chocolate frogs because she didn't like her food jumping. She had a scar on her knee from falling out of a tree when she was seven, proving she hadn't always been risk-averse. 

And she learned about me. She saw the worry I hid behind the jokes. She saw how much I feared for my family. She became the quiet space where I didn't have to be loud. 

But the war didn't stop just because we were happy. 

It was May when Dumbledore died. The castle felt different after that. colder. The safety was gone. 

We stood at the funeral, hands clasped tightly between us, hidden by the folds of her cloak. I could feel her trembling. 

"It's starting," she whispered, watching the white tomb. "The war. It's really here." 

"I know," I squeezed her hand. 

"You're going to leave," she said. It wasn't a question. "You and George. You're opening the shop. You're joining the Order." 

"Yeah," I said. "We are." 

She turned to me. Her face was pale, but her eyes were dry. "I have to go back to my parents. I have to get them into hiding. Then… I don't know." 

"You'll be safe," I said fiercely. "You're smart. You'll keep your head down." 

"And you?" she asked. "Will you keep your head down?" 

I smiled, a sad, crooked thing. "I'll try. But you know me." 

"I do." She reached up and touched my face, tracing the line of my jaw. "That's what I'm afraid of." 

"YN," I said, looking deep into her eyes. "This isn't goodbye. It's just… a change in variables." 

She let out a choked laugh. "You've been listening." 

"Always." 

"Promise me," she said, her voice intense. "Promise me you won't do anything stupidly heroic. Promise me you'll come back." 

I thought about the future. The uncertainty. The darkness waiting for us outside the gates. I thought about the joke shop, the radio broadcasts we were planning, the rebellion. It was all going to be incredibly dangerous. 

But then I looked at her. The Ravenclaw who had calculated the odds of loving me and decided to do it anyway. 

"I promise," I said. 

She hugged me then, burying her face in my chest. I held her, breathing in the scent of parchment and vanilla shampoo, engraving this moment into my memory. 

"I love you, Fred," she muffled against my robes. 

My heart hammered. It was the first time she'd said it. 

"I love you too, YN." 

She pulled back, wiping her eyes, putting her mask of calm back on. "Right. I need to go pack. I have to calculate the best route to London to avoid the Death Eater checkpoints." 

"Calculated risk," I nodded. 

She started to walk away, toward the castle. Then she stopped. She turned back, her silhouette framed against the setting sun. 

"Fred?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You were right," she called out. 

"Usually am. About what?" 

"You are incredibly hard to get rid of." 

I grinned, raising a hand in farewell. "Best get used to it, love. I'm playing the long game." 

She smiled, turned, and walked back into the castle. 

I stood there for a long time, watching the spot where she’d vanished. The war was coming. The world was falling apart. But as I walked back to find George, I felt strangely invincible. 

I had a reason to fight. I had a variable worth solving for. And hell, if Voldemort thought he could get in the way of me seeing her again, he had another thing coming. 

You loved Ginny and all the Weasleys, you would’ve loved staying with them for Christmas and even for the rest of your life. There was however a small complication, you’ve liked Fred for two years. The only reason this would be a problem is because when you first started hanging out with Ginny she confessed about how many other people she befriended only used her to reach her brothers. 

You then promised that you would never do that to her, but you were eleven when you said that. Boys were disgusting creatures, some of them still are but there are few exceptions. You first started catching feelings for Fred when you were thirteen and now at the age of fifteen your feelings only intensified. 

You couldn’t help but believe that even if Ginny’s feelings wouldn’t get hurt by assuming that you used her for this long, Fred only views you as a little sister since you hung out so much with Ginny. 

Fred had done things that could’ve made you think that he actually liked you but then he’d go and call you a good friend for his sister. Back in your third year he called you ‘sis’ you had spent the week on the verge of crying, and then he asked Angelina to the yule ball, it only made you sadder. You couldn’t even talk to Ginny about it, so your feelings were bottled up for a long time. Now you have a better grip of your feelings considering your best friend's brother.

You were now being greeted by everyone at the burrow, Molly gave you a kiss on your head and said how happy she was to see you. You gave her a smile and you greeted Bill, Charlie and George; and you had even talked to Harry who even though he had been on the train together you didn’t talk to him. You had already talked to Ron earlier so you didn’t bother talking to him. 

Fred then came down rushing in, saying out loud “What’s happening?” When he reached the bottom of the stairs his eyes skimmed the room smiling when he noticed his siblings. 

Even though Ginny mentioned that Fred and George -as they should- still spent Christmas at the Burrow, you weren’t ready to see Fred. You had always been able to tell Fred and George apart even by the slight differences on their faces. 

You would never admit it but most of your time in the Great Hall was spent looking at Fred not eating. His smile fell off his face when he saw you standing there, you averted your gaze from him; on the train you had decided that now that you were going to see Fred it would be the perfect opportunity to get over all your feelings. 

You would now see him for almost three weeks and that means you wouldn’t have time to fantasise about him; and you could focus on his flaws -which you were yet to find any that bothered you enough to get over him- 

You watched as he greeted Ron, Harry, and Ginny; you tried not to notice the cute smile on his face as he saw the rest of his family for the first time in a while, and you suppressed the fluttering feeling in your stomach. Molly ushered everyone to the kitchen and you said in a raised voice “I’m going to go get my bags, I left them outside.” 

You went out the door and started to grab your heavy suitcase; when you had lifted it near your chest you noticed it got much lighter. You at first thought you were getting stronger but then you heard a small “Hi.”

You let out a small squeak and jumped slightly letting go of the suitcase, taking a step away. Fred was standing there with your heavy suitcase in one hand, you noticed how the veins in his hands and arms flexed; and you tried not to think about them around your body and your neck. 

He had the other hand in a wave motion, you then said “Hey.” 

“I just came out to help you with your bag, and uh I didn’t get to talk to you when I came downstairs.” He said as he moved closer to you and let go of your bag, putting it on the ground. You didn’t notice what he was doing until he had wrapped you in a tight embrace, you ignored the butterflies and put your arms around him. You didn’t let yourself indulge in the moment and his comforting smell -marshmallows and fireworks-

Fred let out a large sigh when he put his arms around you, he felt himself relax even more as you reciprocated his hug. As soon as he saw you in the Burrow his heart almost leaped out of his chest, and he didn’t know how to react -not expecting to see you there- So he wiped his face from all emotion as he did in emotional moments. He was going to the kitchen when George elbowed him in the ribs and told him to go help ‘his future girl’ with carrying her bag. 

He knew for a fact that right now while Ginny, his dad and mom were preparing the dinner, all his siblings and Harry were looking out the window watching this interaction with their full attention. George had found out about his feelings because of how much his gaze went to you during Hogwarts; and Ron and Harry found out by how much of Fred’s letters to Ron were mostly questions about you. Bill and Charlie found out by Ron blabbing about it in front of them, he got teased endlessly by his older brothers. He would’ve asked Ginny for the information about you and he did but he then stopped when his mom lectured all of the brothers about how Ginny thinks that all her friends like her because of them. 

He couldn’t do that to his sister so instead he opted to talk to Ron about you and make all his brothers swear not to tell Ginny about his obvious feelings. He started liking you last year and he cringed at the memory of him calling you a sister in his sixth year. He let go of you slowly, noticing that the amount of time you both hugged would’ve been too much for you not to notice his feelings. 

He grabbed your bag from the ground and you smiled at him gratefully, he didn’t utter a single word as he walked to the burrow with you beside him. He opened the door for you then he put the bag down, he looked at you with a slight blush -that you didn’t notice. 

“Thanks.” You said looking at him, he averted your gaze and replied “No problem, sis.” He then turned around and went quickly to the kitchen, and you tried not to give a single care to the sinking feeling in your chest and you reminded yourself that this is the reason why you have to get over him; and it seemed as if it wouldn’t be that hard because he didn’t talk to you for the next two days. 

***

It was Christmas and you were in Ginny’s room putting on a warmer jacket while everyone was downstairs exchanging presents. You had gotten Molly a muggle cook book and Arthur a bunch of muggle stationary with a camera, and you had gotten Ginny a broomstick kit. Ginny insisted that you only get presents for three people because of how you didn’t know that you were coming and that she didn’t want you spending too much money with your parents out of the country. 

You picked up the jacket and went to stand in front of a mirror to put it on when you heard a knock on the door. “Come in.” you said, and watched as Fred came into the room. Your eyebrows furrowed, a feeling of slight hurt going over you at remembering him calling you a sister. You had talked to him after but only the essential things like "Fred can you pass me the salt?” and him giving it to you and after a small thanks from you a small, “no problem.” 

“Hi.” He said, and you replied with a small awkward, “hi.” 

He stepped closer to you as he said “I got you something.” Only then you registered the small red box he had in his hand, and then you quickly felt both flattered and guilty “Fred, I didn’t get you anything; you shouldn’t have.” 

He waved a hand in a dismissing motion, he felt nervous; which he never did around girls, maybe it was because he actually liked you and that he would actually feel sad if he ruined your already fragile relationship. He only called you a sister once again because he felt nervous and it’s an immediate feeling dismisser. After he had told his brothers the story they had a good laugh and they told him to get you a gift to try to mend your friendship, because if that’s the only thing that you both could have together he wanted it all. 

He spent hours trying to find the perfect gift for you, he had found Angelina also shopping for a gift and when he asked her for advice after laughing at his face she told him to get a customisable one. He had got you a necklace that said “amica mea” It meant “my love” in latin, and he wasn’t smart enough to know that so that was another thanks to Angelina. 

You watched as he handed you the box and said “Merry Christmas.” You grabbed the box from him with a blush that matched its colour, and you opened it and there was a silver necklace with some words that you were too nervous and flattered to ask what they meant. “Can you-” you said as you motioned between the necklace and your neck. 

He nodded quickly as he said “yeah, yeah.” He ran behind you and took the necklace from your hand and opened it, he pushed your hair from your neck which caused goosebumps to rise on your neck and butterflies to start flying in Fred’s stomach. You looked at him from the mirror and watched as he placed the necklace around your neck, his hands lingered there for a few seconds; before your eyes connected in the mirror. 

You turned around and your turn made your hair fall on your back once again, you shyly tilted your head up to him and said “I really like it. Thank you.” He shook his head slightly as he looked at you and said “It’s nothing.” 

You kept looking into his eyes as you asked “What does it mean?” You didn’t notice the blush on his face but you did notice his gaze going to your lips, and you couldn’t help but lick them under his gaze. “It means-” he cut himself off as he leaned in slightly and licked his own lips and he continued “It means-” 

His sentence was cut off by Ginny entering the room saying your name loudly and followed by “Dinner’s ready!” You and Fred moved apart quickly and you hoped she wouldn’t notice your blush or the necklace. Her eyes skimmed the room and both of you then repeated her sentence “Dinner’s ready, come on let’s go.” 

You nodded as you quickly left the room trying to erase the blush from your face while going down the stairs. You had forgotten to put on the jacket that was still on your arm and you put it on. When you reached down stairs, it seemed that you and Fred had a mutual unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t mention what could’ve happened and that you both would ignore how your hearts skipped several beats at the thought of the interaction. 

Molly had ushered everyone together so Arthur could take a picture of the entire family with you and Harry at Christmas. While everyone was standing into the frame, Fred watched as his father struggled to work the camera that you got him. Charlie, Bill and George all kept switching places until you and Fred were standing beside each other. 

He glared at his brothers while they gave him shameless smiles. Ginny and you wrapped your arms around each other when Ginny whispered a joke to you, you laughed and an instant smile appeared on Fred’s face and then Arthur clicked the camera. 

Molly replicated the picture into two and gave you one and framed the other with her wand. It was a moving picture because you asked George to charm it. The picture was everyone smiling while you burst into laughter from Ginny’s joke. You didn’t notice Fred looking at you like he just found out that there was a heaven on earth because of you but Ginny did.

***

You had your bags in your hand as you were standing in front of the door, you waited for everyone to go downstairs and say goodbye to you. You wore a dress because your parents were coming today and they always judged you and you wanted to make them proud so you tried to look good. 

Fred entered the room, you were still wearing the necklace he gave you and you were frantically straightening out your hair and outfit trying to look as perfect as possible. When you saw him you asked “Do I look okay?” 

He nodded and said “you look beautiful as always.” A blush covered your cheeks when he came closer to you and pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. His gaze lingered on your lips and then you decided to be brave, you cupped his face with your hands and pressed your lips against his. 

you pull back feeling him unmoving; you see him frozen, face emotionless. Apologies immediately start tumbling from your mouth, mostly consisting of swear words and ‘sorry’s’ and ‘I should have asked you first’. your face is extremely flushed 20% from the kiss and 80% from embarrassment. You moved back several steps, and you grabbed your suitcase again.

Then you hear him mumble a few words that you didn't catch. “What?” you asked in a dazed voice, trying to suppress the blush that is on your face right now; and trying to recover from the embarrassment. 

“Do it again.”

Now you’re the one whose frozen, your blush intensifies. He probably catches on to the fact that you won’t be moving any time soon and adds, “or I will.”

Then the next thing you know is his lips on yours. He had crossed the room in a matter of seconds, and cupped your face with both his hands. Your face fit perfectly in his hands as if he was made to hold you and you made to be with him. After the shock from his actions had fully settled you let your suitcase drop on the floor carelessly and you fisted the collar of his robes in your hands and pulled him down, so you can kiss him properly. 

You felt him smile in the kiss and you smiled as well, you then were interrupted by several loud cheers from George, Bill, Charlie and Ginny. You were embarrassed and you were worried that Ginny was mad but then you registered the cheering and that she said “About time.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows and Ginny rolled her eyes at your reaction. She let out a large scoff and said “You seriously didn’t think I’d notice you gawking at my brother for the past two years everyday.” She saw Fred smirk and she then turned to him and added “Don’t get too cocky yourself, you couldn’t send me a letter for an entire year without asking me about her. You also gave her a necklace with the words ‘My love’ written on them, you weren’t really subtle.” 

George, Bill and Charlie erupted with laughter at both your faces. You said goodbye to everyone and then you walked out only to find Fred holding your suitcase smirking “I’ll take you back.” You smiled at his words and went with him. 

Fred and George were in Potions together, causing mischief as usual. This was nothing new for them, and weekly detention was commonplace during their years at Hogwarts. The school year had just begun, so the students were still settling in to their new classes and routines.

The twins were fooling around by turning the sprigs of lavender they had laid out on their desk into mice, unleashing them onto the floor of the classroom. They watched with glee as their fellow students shooed the mice away, or even ran away screeching.

This was a harmless prank compared to some of the things that they had pulled in the past. They had quite the reputation at Hogwarts, and they intended to keep their reputation by starting out Sixth Year with a bang.

Fred watched as a mouse scurried up to the table that you were working at, but you were distracted with your work, looking down into your cauldron. The mouse began crawling up your shoe, clawing the frilly socks sticking out of your loafers. You reached down to scratch your ankle, but a small gasp left your lips as you noticed the mouse.

"Aw, hi there, darling," you said to the mouse, getting up from your seat.

The mouse had detached from your shoe, and instead sniffed your bag that was propped against the leg of your desk. You bent down, carefully scooping up the small creature in your hands.

Fred had been watching you this entire time, hoping that he would get a reaction out of you from the mouse prank. His jaw dropped as you bent over.

Your movement exposed your white lace panties, even if it was only for a moment. You had grown over the summer, gaining most of your height in your legs. Your skirts from last year were a tad too short, but you hadn't had time to get new ones yet.

Fred's cheeks began to burn. He knew that you had not meant for him to see your panties, but he couldn't help himself. He had fancied you for the past year, but his crush manifested in teasing you senseless. You two had never had any interactions that could be deemed as romantic, but yet his feelings still persisted. 

He knew it was wrong to be turned on by what he had seen, but he couldn't help it. Fred tried to calm himself, taking slow and deep breaths. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, trying to focus on something else. That's when he noticed it.

His pants felt tighter than they did when class started, and now he knew why. He had an erection growing in his pants, an involuntary reaction to seeing so much of your bare flesh. He shook his head at himself, feeling even more embarrassed than before.

"Y'alright, Fred?" George asked, leaning his elbow on the table to peer over at his twin.

"Uh, yep. Just gonna....use the loo," Fred stuttered out, grabbing his bag and rushing out of the room.

The whole class turned, hearing Fred's sudden exit. You saw only his back and his fiery locks as he left the room in a seemingly frantic state. You had been friends with the twins ever since your first year at Hogwarts, so of course you were concerned. You peered over at George, shooting him a concerned glance.

Is he okay? you mouthed to George from across the classroom.

George shrugged in response, shaking his head. 

It was unlike Fred to get flustered. He was the confident, suave, and utterly cheeky twin. He would never get this worked up over a silly crush.

Fred hurried through the halls of Hogwarts, navigating his way back to his dormitory. He felt like he didn't breathe on his entire journey back, and he huffed out a sign of relief once he had shut himself into the safety of his room.

He flopped himself onto his bed, groaning in embarrassment. Why was this happening to him? Sure, he had seen girls in their panties plenty of times. He was no stranger to sex and nudity, and the entirety of his year at Hogwarts knew this about him. Fred didn't understand why you were so different.

Fred laid on his bed sulking for the remainder of the hour until George returned to their dormitory. George entered their room, closing the door behind him and leaning against it.

"Want to explain what that was about?" George asked, his voice almost teasing.

Fred only grunted in response, throwing a pillow across the room at his twin. George laughed at him, crossing the room to sit on his own bed.

"You didn't bail on class just to lay in bed. Tell me what's going on," George said, prodding at him.

Fred finally sat up on his bed, peering over at George.

"I was having.....an issue," he said.

George laughed and raised his eyebrows in understanding.

"Oh, I didn't know that Snape got you going," George teased. "I didn't realize that he was your type, being that he's old and all. And a man. And a Slytherin, at that."

"You know it wasn't about Snape, you git," Fred spat, heaving another pillow at his brother.

George caught the flying pillow, tossing it onto the floor in front of his bed.

"Then who was it about?" George asked, leaning back on his elbows.

Fred huffed again.

"It's....I saw....when (Y/N) bent over to pick up one of the mice, I saw her panties," Fred finally admitted, sounding embarrassed.

"I knew it!" George exclaimed, shooting up off of his bed. "I knew that you fancied (Y/N)!"

George was busy doing a celebratory dance around the room while Fred buried his face in his hands. Somehow admitting the truth of the situation to his twin made him feel even more embarrassed.

George finally stopped his excited little jig and turned to his brother.

"I think y'should ask her out," he suggested. "I think she fancies you too. And who knows, maybe you'll get to see her panties again."

Fred groaned and threw a final pillow at George. This situation was mortifying. But it wouldn't be Fred Weasley if he didn't go after exactly what he wanted. And right now, what he wanted was you.

---

It was the next evening at dinner when Fred made his move. A paper in the shape of a dove floated across the hall, landing in front of your plate. You stared at it in bewilderment for a moment before you caught Fred's eye. You reached forward to open the note.

Black Lake at 8pm. Be there.

It was a simple message; concise and to the point, but for some reason it made your stomach turn. You nodded at Fred, assuring him that you'd be there. You folded up the note, burying it in your pocket before any of your friends asked about it.

You had been crushing on Fred for years. His reputation as a player had kept you from making a move, and you were happy to at least have a friendship with him. Butterflies danced in your stomach, and you tried not to get your hopes up. He had never asked to meet you alone before.

It felt like the next couple of hours dragged on as you waited to meet Fred. Every possible scenario had played through your mind, and you were only beginning to feel more nervous.

Finally, it was time to set out for the Black Lake. You pulled on your favorite knit cardigan, sneaking out of the castle into the humid late summer air. You were careful not to be noticed as you made your way towards your meeting point with Fred.

Fred stood by the edge of the lake, skipping rocks off of its surface. You watched him for a moment, admiring how relaxed he was. This was rare for Fred, as he was always in a state of teasing someone or focused as he flew around the quidditch pitch.

As you approached, you could hear the plinking of the rocks as they skipped along the water. He had a blanket laid out behind him with a picnic basket beside it. You accidentally stepped on a stick as you crept closer, causing Fred to turn to you.

"Hey," he said, smiling at you as you approached.

He reached to hand you a rock, inviting you to join him. You stood in silence for a few minutes, skipping rocks together and waiting for the other to speak. Finally, you decided to break the ice.

"Why did you ask me to meet you here?" you asked, your voice small as you anticipated his response.

Fred stopped tossing rocks at the lake, taking in a deep breath as he turned to you.

"I've been meaning to tell you something," he said, looking down at you.

Your heart felt like it was going to explode in your chest. His height was intimidating as he peered down at you, and you couldn't breathe as you waited for him to continue speaking.

"I fancy you," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. For once in his life, Fred seemed meek and almost embarrassed.

It felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of your lungs. Fred Weasley fancied...you?

He watched your face carefully as different emotions flickered across it. Fred opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

You reached up to tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him down into a kiss. His lips were soft against yours, and your sudden movement caught him by surprise. His hands found your waist, and he returned your kiss.

You pulled apart momentarily, both looking at each other in disbelief. Both of your hearts were pounding as your chests heaved. You laughed, pulling him back into a kiss. 

This time, your kisses were more urgent than before. His hands gripped at your waist, and his mouth left your lips and found its way to your neck. He left searing kisses from your ear all the way to your collarbone, and you couldn't help the small whimper that escaped your lips.

Fred ceased his actions, looking into your eyes for a moment. A grin spread across his face. This was a look that you knew all too well. Fred Weasley was up to no good.

Fred thought that his favorite sound in the world was the cheering Gryffindor crowd when their team won a quidditch match. Or the melodic plinking of the rain on the metal roof back home at the Burrow. Or maybe even the Muggle rock music CD that Hermione had gotten him for his birthday. That was until he heard you whimper. Now he was determined to do everything he could to hear that sound over and over again.

His lips found their way back to your neck, and his hands fumbled with the buttons of your cardigan.

"I want you, love," he said, still kissing your neck. "Do you want me, too?"

"Please," you hastily replied, pulling at the bottom of Fred's shirt.

He had managed to unbutton and tug off your cardigan, leading you to the blanket he had set up. He laid down on it, beckoning for you to join him.

You joined Fred on the blanket, straddling him and taking him by surprise. He had always known you as a somewhat shy, studious good girl. But he was liking this side of you too.

It was your turn to take control, and you sucked on a spot behind Fred's ear that you had a feeling would drive him crazy. He hands wandered to your thighs and he rubbed them lovingly, encouraging you to keep going.

You kissed your way down his neck, leaving purple marks behind. In one swift motion, you removed his shirt. You tried to keep things moving, but you couldn't help ogling at the boy laying between your thighs. You admired his toned physique from years of quidditch training. 

While you were distracted, Fred took it as an opportunity to regain control. He flipped you on your back, earning a surprised giggle from you. He worked on the buttons of your jeans, his fingers expertly undoing them in what seemed like record time. He peered up at you.

"Is this alright, darling?" he asked, his eyes soft.

"Yes," you replied, pulling at his hair impatiently.

Fred resumed his work, pulling your jeans down your hips and off your legs. His breath hitched in his throat as he took in the sight before him.

Lace panties. But this time, they were black. 

He snapped himself back to reality, pulling your shirt over your head. You were left in just your underwear, eyes wide as you stared up at him. He had thought about you like this so many times, but now it was finally real.

Fred leaned down to kiss at the base of your neck, working his way down to the top of your breasts. He reached around your back and undid your bra like a pro, and you shimmied it down your arms and flung it to the side.

Fred resumed his blazing path of kisses, reaching your nipple and sucking it into his mouth. This earned him yet another whimper from you, which only encouraged him to continue. 

He kissed all the way down to the waistband of your panties, and he paused for a moment to meet your eyes.

"I'm asking one more time, do you want this?" he asked.

"Yes, please," you whined at him, impatient as you waited for him to resume.

He looped his long fingers around the front of your panties, pulling them down your legs. Once they were out of the way, he gently spread your legs.

Fred hardened at the image before him. You laid there on the blanket, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, and your legs spread open for him. He wanted to permanently etch this moment into his mind.

He positioned himself between your thighs, kissing the inside of your thigh and rubbing soothing circles into it. He worked his way closer to where you wanted him most. You were silently willing him to continue, eagerly waiting for him to touch you.

His trail of kisses had finally reached your center, and he placed a soft kiss right on your core. His eyes flitted up to yours, and a smirk drew across his lips.

Fred's tongue darted out, catching you by surprise. He expertly drew circles around your clit with his tongue, pausing to suck on it every few seconds. 

You grabbed for the blanket, balling it in your fists as you tried not to scream. You knew that Fred had a reputation for making his rounds with the girls at Hogwarts, but you didn't expect him to be this good.

He dove one long finger into your opening, and you couldn't help the breathy moan that left your mouth. 

Fred continued his motions, easing you open as he added another finger. Your moans were leaving your mouth in succession, and Fred was enjoying every moment of it.

His fingers hit the spot that made your back arch, and you felt your vision becoming fuzzy. He held onto one thigh for support as he worked his fingers into you, and he knew that you were close to finishing.

Fred slowly withdrew his fingers from your entrance, and you gave him a frustrated groan. He looked up at you, sucking his fingers into his mouth to remove your liquids from them. You stared at him with your mouth open, the lecture you were about to give him for edging you suddenly forgotten.

He quickly removed his trousers and underwear, revealing his hard cock. You had a feeling that it was going to be big; Fred Weasley was a tall boy, after all.

"I couldn't let you finish like that, love," he said, his voice teasingly sweet. "I want you to cum on my cock."

Your breath was stuck in your throat, his words choking you. Fred lined himself up between your legs and pressed himself to your entrance.

"Are you going to be good for me?" he asked, his gaze burning into you.

"Yes," you squeaked out, sounding pathetic beneath him.

Fred pushed into you slowly, taking his time to allow you to get comfortable. After a few strokes, he was able to work his way deeper inside of you and pick up his pace. 

As he finally bottomed out, you reached up to touch his back.

"Freddie?" you asked, your voice small and sweet.

"Yes, love?" he responded, stalling his movements.

"I want you to fuck me...hard."

Fred's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but a smile tugged at his lips.

"Anything for you, darling," he said before pulling almost all the way out of you.

He pushed back into you, becoming harsher with every thrust. Your nails dug into his back as he increased the pace, fucking you mercilessly on the blanket. 

You both panted, nearing your highs. Fred reached down to find your clit with his thumb, rubbing circles on it to bring you closer to the edge.

"Oh fuck, Freddie--" you whimpered, finally reached your orgasm.

Your back arched off of the hard ground, every muscle in your body tensing at the same time. The pants that came out of your mouth would have been embarrassing if Fred had not been panting as well.

"I'm so close, love," he said, his voice strained. "Can you be good for me for just a little longer?"

You could do nothing but reply with a moan, still hazy from your own high. He continued his pace, thrusting into you to chase his finish.

Fred had finally finished, letting out a final groan in your ear. His chest was still heaving when he laid himself down onto you, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

The two of you laid there in silence for a few minutes, catching your breath and enjoying each other's closeness. It was Fred who spoke first.

"Why didn't we do this earlier?" he asked, his face still buried in your neck.

You giggled and rubbed his bare back.

"I don't know Freddie, I've fancied you for years. You could've had me whenever you wanted," you replied, tracing circles into his back with your nails.

"We have a lot of time to make up for then," he said, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at you.

.❤️.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖔𝖗 𝖜𝖆𝖘 opened immediately by a tall, thin woman wearing emerald-green robes. She was beautiful, in a sense. She had black hair that was pulled up into a tight bun and wore square spectacles pushed tightly up on her nose. Though no one had said her name nor had she introduced herself, I knew that she was Professor McGonagall and could turn into a cat because she's an Animagus. I'm not particularly sure how I knew that but it was the least of my concerns at the moment.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," The man said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

The man who's name was Hagrid shuffled off to the side, leaving us with Professor McGonagall. I barely knew her and I already admired her greatly. She just gave off that. . .energy I suppose is the closest word.

The doors were opened even wider to show the entrance hall. It was enormous. I think it would've fit our house perhaps twenty-two times inside of it. The décor was much like those of other wizarding places in our communities. The walls lit with flaming torches and marble staircases. We liked flair.

Professor McGonagall led us to a separate chamber hall from the rest of the school. I could hear the older students laughing and talking nearby. I was suddenly conscious of everyone standing much closer together. I found myself once again, next to Hermione, who was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. Harry was two people over. My stomach turned and my skin tingled with nerves.

He was quite handsome and he looked so much like dad it was ridiculous. Even his black hair was sticking out everywhere just like dad's was in every picture Lupin had of him. He pushed his glasses up on his nose again. I wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder and say, "Hi, I'm Elizabeth Potter", but I refrained from doing so. Now wasn't the time.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Professor McGonagall said and I tore my attention away from Harry once again. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." She said the last house with a faint air of distaste. I grinned, I liked her a lot already. "Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rules-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

I was begging inside my head for Gryffindor. I could tell she was the Gryffindor house head. Plus literally my entire family, James, Lily, Remus, and Sirius had been in Gryffindor. I had to be in that house. It was like a need.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." She paused for a moment to give the words effect. I saw Harry flatten his hair out of the corner of my eyes. "I shall return when we are ready for you, Please wait quietly."

She turned and left the chamber. Hermione started speaking under her breath. At first, I thought it was nonsense and then I realized that she was repeating spells under her breath.

"What are you doing?" I asked her, confused.

"Well I don't know exactly which spells I will need to perform in front of the school so I'm just trying to remember everything that I know." She said nervously.

I laughed quietly. "No, it's nothing like that. They don't expect us to know any magic yet. There's this thing called a sorting hat. We just put it on our head and then it decides which house will be the best fit for us."

"Oh." Hermione said, her shoulders relaxing. "Well that makes it all a bit more better now, doesn't it?"

I nodded. Then several people screamed, making both Hermione and I jump in the air. I looked around in a hurry, sure we were being attacked by a magical beast from the Forbidden Forest.

About twenty or so ghosts had floated through the wall and were arguing with each other. I listened in delight.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?" Said a ghost with a ruff and tights. Nearly Headless Nick. Now how in the world had I known that?

I mean, of course, my father had told me all about the different ghosts at Hogwarts and Peeves the poltergeist. Perhaps I had remembered more than I thought I had.

Nobody answered. I guess they were all to nervous to talk to ghosts.

"We're about to be sorted." I said, rather calmly for meeting a ghost for the first time, I thought. "We're first years."

People muttered around me. I guess they were shocked that someone had answered. To be fair, I was a little shocked myself. I was normally quite shy.

"Hope to see you all in Hufflepuff." Said a larger ghost, the Fat Friar. "My old house you know."

"Move along now, the Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall said, marching back into the room. I watched the ghosts float through the walls without saying another word. Hermione was staring at me in awe. I blushed and looked down at the floor.

"Now, form a line." Professor McGonagall said sharply. "And follow me."

Hermione got in line behind the orange haired boy and I got behind her. We walked through the doors into the Great Hall. I felt my cheeks flush red. Everything my father had told me about the Sorting Ceremony hadn't prepared me for the feeling of hundreds of students eyes on me.

I looked up at the ceiling. I heard Hermione whisper in front of me, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

I wanted to immediately talk to her about the book. I'd read that book when I was seven and read it multiple times a year. I wanted to know her opinion about everything in it. The legends and myths and history and founders. But I kept my mouth shut.

We stopped in front of the teachers, the Sorting hat sitting on a wooden stool two stairs up. Professor McGonagall was standing to the side with a roll of parchment. All the students in the hall were staring at the hat, and everyone I was standing with was staring at the hat as well. I knew it was about to sing and I waited, amused. I wondered what it sounded like.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty But don't judge on what you see I'll eat myself if you can find A smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, Your top hats sleek and tall, For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see, So try me on and I will tell you  Where you ought to be You might belong to Gryffindor,  Where dwell the brave at heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindor apart; You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil; Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, If you've a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind; Or perhaps in Slytherin You'll make your real friends, Those cunning folk use any means To achieve their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap You're in safe hands (though I have none) For I'm the thinking cap!"

The entire hall burst into applause. It bowed to the four tables and became still again, waiting for students to put it on. I felt a nervous twist in my stomach. I was no longer worried about which house I would be in. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff- as long as I wasn't in Slytherin. No, now I was worried that the hat would see the images in my head. What would it say? What would it think? Did it matter?

I scanned the table, because I knew I would find the man in the purple turban up there. Indeed, he was sitting next to a tall man with shoulder length-black hair and black eyes. Professor Quirrell. Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Evil and fake. Talking to Professor Snape. Potions. The person who looked like a villian but was really a hero.

Evil and fake? Villians and heroes? Why had I let those characteristics define Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape? Growing up with a werewolf as a dad had led me to make judgements after knowing the person, not before. So why had I jumped to such hasty conclusions?

I let my thoughts die down as Professor McGonagall opened up the roll of parchment to start calling names.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

A pale, yet pink faced girl with blonde pigtails walked out of line, stumbling over a boy's leg. I heard a small laugh behind me and I spun around to see a pale blond boy standing between two fat boys smirking. I turned back around with a roll of my eyes. Bet he was going to be in Slytherin.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right clapped and Hannah went to sit with them. Hannah looked like a nice girl and so did the rest of the Hufflepuff table.

"Bones, Susan!"

I watched a darker haired girl climb up the steps and sit on the stool. The hat fit just over her eyes.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouted again.

"Boot, Terry!" A dark haired boy crept out of the line and went to sit on the stool this time.

"RAVENCLAW!" The table on the left clapped and multiple Ravenclaw students shook hands with Terry as he sat down. I wouldn't mind being in that house either. My nerves went down a notch again.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender." This was a skinny and tall girl with golden brown curly hair. She had blue eyes and wore a bandana in her hair.

"GRYFFINDOR" The hat shouted. The table on the far left clapped. I looked over to see that table and laughed out-loud, quickly stifling it. Fred and George Weasley were cat-calling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent." A thick, dark girl with stringy black hair was called up. I wrinkled my nose. What was with me today? Perhaps I was sick. Mentally sick. Was that a thing?

"SLYTHERIN." the hat shouted. The last table exploded into cheers. I didn't even look at them. That table wasn't an option for me.

"Crabbe, Vincent."

The thick guy that had been standing next to the pale blond boy pushed past me to get up to the stairs.

"Could've said excuse me." I muttered under my breath so no one could hear me.

"SLYTHERIN."

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus," A sandy-haired boy walked up calmly to sit on the stool. The hat stayed on his head for nearly a full minute.

"GRYFFINDOR"

"Granger, Hermione."

Her name gave me a start and I watched as Hermione eagerly ran up the steps and grabbed the hat from Professor McGonagall. She jammed it on her head. The Sorting Hat took about twenty seconds to decide that she was going to end up in Gryffindor. For some reason, my heart sank.

"Goyle, Gregory."

The second thick boy stomped up the stairs and sat on the stool. I wondered if his weight would break the stool legs.

"SLYTHERIN"

"Kane, Elizabeth."

My heart leapt into my throat and I walked as calmly as possible up the stone steps and sat down on the stool. The hat was placed on my head and slipped down past my eyes.

There was a small voice that seemed to be talking directly into my ear. "Yes, you are a difficult case, aren't you. You have plenty of courage and you have great talent and smarts. . .hmmm. . . but you're futuristic thoughts. . .that could prove to be a problem."

Futuristic thoughts?

"Yes, those flashes of memories are the future. You should use those smartly and sharpen your skill. I believe you could make a wonderful seer. . .I dearly wish to put you in Gryffindor, but that doesn't seem right."

The Sorting Hat seemed to be talking more to itself than to me. Why not Gryffindor? I thought defiantly. Especially if it's where you believe I belong.

"It all leads back to those futuristic thoughts, Elizabeth Potter, though I never said that Gryffindor was where you belonged." The name gave me a start.

You know who I am? The real me, I mean.

"Of course, I'm the Sorting Hat. I believe that, though you could possibly belong in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, they are to dangerous for you. So is Slytherin. Like I said, you'll figure it out in due time. Sharpen those skills. . .besides, you were already sorted in Hufflepuff long before you came here."

Before I could even think dismally about Hufflepuff and argue to be in Gryffindor, the sorting hat had shouted. "HUFFLEPUFF!"

I lifted the hat off of my head and handed it to Professor McGonagall. I wondered exactly how long I had sat there. Surely, longer than a minute. Hannah shook my hand as I sat down and Susan Bones smiled at me.

I smiled back, sort of out of it. I didn't notice Neville Longbottom as he tripped over himself on the way to the stool. The hat took forever with Neville as well. But I didn't notice.

Futuristic thoughts? I looked up at the teachers table. Professor Snape was looking down at me. I stared back. Multiple flashes happened in my mind, looking at him. A bloody leg, a flash of him and my mum on a wedding day, and him and Quirrell in the forest.

"Potter, Harry"

I jerked my head towards Harry. Whispers immediately arose through the tables. Hannah and Susan looked wide-eyed at each other. Albus Dumbledore, who had been sitting back in his chair, looking bored, suddenly sat straight up and forward, all eyes on Harry.

Harry had the hat on his head for twenty-three seconds before the hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR"

He received the loudest cheers yet. Fred and George were yelling "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Another red head with glasses, a prefect if that was what his badge was for, shook Harry's hand. I felt like crying. I'd never felt so far away from my brother as I did now. Perhaps because we were in such close proximity and others were meeting him before I was.

"Thomas, Dean." Was a good-looking black boy, much taller than most of the other boys our age. He was sorted into Gryffindor as well. I looked on gloomily.

"Turpin, Lisa."

"RAVENCLAW!"

The red haired boy that Harry had been talking too, Weasley, Ronald, was also sorted into Gryffindor. I supposed the entire family was probably in Gryffindor. I would've been there too, if the stinking Sorting Hat hadn't put me in Hufflepuff. Well. . .no. . .no, maybe it wouldn't have. I was trying to blame the hat for something that wasn't it's fault. If it believed me to be a Hufflepuff. . . wasn't I a Hufflepuff? Why was I fighting this decision so hard?

"Zabini, Blaise." was sorted into Slytherin.

I stared down at my plate. No, this didn't mean anything. After all, the Patil twins had been separated. Parvati was in Gryffindor and Padma was in Ravenclaw. Harry and I could still be brother and sister, even if we were in separate houses and yet. . .

If the sorting hat thought it was dangerous for me to be in the same house with my brother. . . and my parents didn't want anyone to know that I existed. . .then should Harry know? I mean, when exactly were my parents going to show that I was Harry's twin brother? What if I never was meant to be known by anyone except my family. My family that was now only Lupin since Lily and James and Sirius were all gone. . .

And though the decision hurt, that was when I decided not to tell Harry I was his sister. Friends, and that was it if I was lucky. Until I got some sort of sign or learned more about my parents secrets or somehow managed to wear the sorting hat again and find out more, I wouldn't tell anybody about my secret. And that now included Harry.

Dumbledore stood at that moment and I was glad to be torn from my thoughts. Professor Snape was staring at me again and I thought about the vision I'd seen with him and my mum. That certainly wasn't in the future. And it certainly couldn't be possible because my father was James.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore said and I looked away from Professor Snape. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

I laughed and clapped with the others as food appeared on our table. Now that I was resigned in my decision, I felt that I could relax. . .for the time being anyways. I didn't eat much since I preferred dessert over everything else. But I did eat a small piece of steak while waiting.

Hannah, Susan, Leanne, and I all talked while we ate. All three of them were Half-bloods like me. They were extremely interested to find out I was adopted though I steered clear of names and specific details.

I stopped talking to eat ice cream and a slice of cake. I know, I'm an eleven year old with a sweet tooth. I didn't have any flashes while eating. I wondered if that was the key to not having flashes- Eating.

Eventually the food went away and Dumbledore stood up again. He's going to deliver some strange news, I thought randomly and then wondered if that was just knowing that Dumbledore was sort've eccentric or if I was predicting the future. Perhaps a bit of both.

"Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

I noticed that his eyes flashed to the Gryffindor door table and to Fred and George Weasley in particular. Yes, those were my kind of guys.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

Maybe next year I would buy a decent broom and try out for the team. Or maybe I would buy the broom if I made the team.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Some people laughed, but I did not. This was serious. A flash happened in my mind and I saw the three-headed dog again. Okay, that was a pretty legitimate reason not to go down that corridor. I would rather not be a dog chew toy. I didn't like dogs. I was scared of them.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore said, becoming more excited than he had the entire speech. I looked at the other teachers. All except Professor Flitwick, the charms Professor, looked like they'd rather take a sip of Skele-grow which is a disgusting medicine I had to take once at St. Mungo's when I broke my arm doing Muggle ice- skating.

Everyone stood on their feet as words twisted themselves into the air, having erupted from the tip of Dumbledore's wand. I tried numbly to think of how I was going to sing this. I hated singing with a passion (in public)- I was no good at it. I became faintly aware of Professor Snape's' eyes on me again. What was his deal?

The school suddenly started singing and I blushed, still unable to think of a way to sing this song.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts Teach us something please, Whether we be old and bald or young with scabby knees Our heads could do with filling With some interesting stuff For now they're bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff, So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot, Just do your best, we'll do the rest, and learn until our brains all rot."

I was never going to forget anything I learned here, I thought, looking up at the ceiling. I was going to learn and I was going to be the smartest witch of my class. I was going to prove something to myself and to everyone else- I just wasn't sure what yet.

Dumbledore clapped loudly when everyone was done singing (The Weasley twins had sung as slowly as possible, almost making me laugh). "Ah music," he said, as he wiped his eyes. I wondered if he was legitimately crying. Like I said- eccentric. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

I followed Susan one our way to our common room. Leading the way was our prefect, Gabriel Truman. We followed him to where the kitchen was. I knew it was behind the fruit painting though no one else gave it a second look. It was disconcerting really, knowing so much about a place I hadn't even spent four hours in.

Gabriel stopped in front of a bunch of barrels and said, "Gather around and look very closely. Our common room is the only one with intruder-repelling devices and unless you fancy smelling like vinegar for a couple days, I suggest you pay attention."

He showed us that we had to pick barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, and tap on it in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff'. He demonstrated it and we all entered the common room. My mouth dropped in surprise.

Even though we couldn't have possibly been on ground floor, there were round windows near the top of the walls that let in light. Of course, it was night now so they weren't lit. Instead, the lamps on tables were lit.

The common room was a large, earthy, round room, with a low ceiling. Everything about the room was circular.

The décor was probably meant to emphasize the earthy-feel of the room. There were many plants hanging or sitting around the room. There was a dancing plant near the window. Ivy crept around the fireplace and on the walls.

The furniture was all yellow and black patterned and was made up of rounded sofas and chairs. They were furnished with copper touchings. The tables were made of pine, oak, and cypress and were also round.

There were two, large round doors on either side of the common room, opposite the entry door. They led to the boy and girl dormitories.

The entire common room gave me a hobbit like feeling. I wondered if this was how J.R.R. Tolkien pictured Frodo Baggins home. Or maybe like a cabin in the middle of the woods.

Gabriel told us to retire to our rooms and I followed the other girls to the large wooden door on the right side of the room.

The other girls got ready for bed immediately and soon, they were all sound asleep in their beds. I didn't go to bed right away, too jittery to try and sleep.

I went to my trunk, pulling out a sheaf of parchment. Lighting a candle, I grabbed my Muggle pen. I wrote a letter to my dad. Perhaps it was the feeling of disappointment, but I wanted him to tell me everything was all right. I just wanted to feel his strong arms around me again. I wanted to hear him call me his daughter- just like the night of the robber.

I wrote quickly:

Dear Dad, I'm not entirely sure how I feel right now. A lot has happened since I got on that train. I keep seeing visions of random stuff. A red stone, a three headed dog, and a bunch of other objects, places or people. Sometimes Harry is in the visions too. The sorting hat could see those visions inside my head and told me that it wasn't safe for me to be in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or even Slytherin. He said they were futuristic visions and I needed to hone my skills. He said that being in Hufflepuff was a safe house. I'm not really sure what's going on though. I guess that brings me to my next point: Harry. I don't think I can tell him who I am. My parents obviously thought I should be a secret and the Sorting Hat seems to think so too. He knew my true name- he called me Elizabeth Potter though only I could hear. I also keep seeing visions of Professor Snape which is weird and when I look at the teachers and some of the students, I already know their names even thought I've never met or heard their names before. Do you think that's part of the visions? I'd be lying if I said I was fine. In reality, I'm scared. I mean, I'm going to tough it out- I'm not your daughter for nothing. I do feel like I let you down by not being in Gryffindor but the sorting hat did say that if it wasn't for my visions, I would've ended up there. . .well maybe. He didn't really say that. He just said I could've belonged in Gryffindor. I don't know if that's really the same thing or if I'm just trying to will it to be the same thing. He also said something about me being sorted into Hufflepuff a long time ago. I don't know what he's talking about. I miss you already. I hope you don't get to worried when you read this, I don't want to worry you. Hopefully my classes go well tomorrow. A lot of love, Elizabeth