#yuleball

It was no wonder that his brother told him that this year would be exciting, and while Fred thought it would be exciting simply because of the triwizard tournament, something even more exciting is happening, and that something is wearing blue. While some of the other male Hogwarts students were looking where they shouldn’t as the beauxbaton’s students performed their elaborate introduction in the blue uniform with the short skirts. Fred was more focused on something else. 

She was wearing the uniform better than anyone else, the blue making her shine more than any of the others. She wasn’t in the centre of the performance but it sure felt like she was for him. Ron whispered (though whispered is giving him too much grace) beside him, “Bloody hell!” 

Hermione rolls her eyes from next to his oblivious brothers, George teases Ron, but Fred didn’t pay a spec of attention to the interaction between his brothers. As the students of beauxbaton’s reach the end of their introduction, Fred stands up to not lose sight of her. They conclude their performance with a bow and a smile. The boys holler with far too much enthusiasm. Fred only claps quietly, and stays standing up until George forces him to sit down. 

Fred’s cheeks flush when his brothers turn to him this time. George teases him, shoving his shoulder, asking, “so who’s caught your fancy?” 

The question makes more people from the table turn around to face them. It’s a rare sight to see Fred flush and look at his lap in embarrassment. Lee, Angelina, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Spinnit, all watching attentively. The persona glides back on and he scoffs, shrugging his shoulders slightly, “Don’t be silly, no one.” 

His eyes still trail to where she’s still standing in the ending pose while Professor Dumbledore kisses the headmistress of Beauxbaton’s whose name he didn’t catch, too distracted. His focus is pulled only by the jarring and contrasting fire when the Durmstrang students enter the hall, but even then, he notices her reactions to the Durmstrang boys, only a little green. His brain elsewhere until the students start walking towards the long dining tables, more specifically when the students wearing blue silk start walking towards the Gryffindor table. 

He smacks his hand repeatedly on his twin’s shoulder and asks, “Where are they going? Where are they going to sit?” 

“Didn’t you hear? Durmstrang males with Slytherin, Durmstrang females with Hufflepuff, Beauxbatons males with Ravenclaw and Beauxbatons females with Gryffindor,” George explains quickly, as Fred’s face morphs with horror. All too knowing, George says, “Don’t worry, what are the odds that she’ll sit near us?” 

The odds were apparently not in their favor (or maybe they were?) because instead of sitting in a cluster at one end of the table, their headmistress encouraged them to socialise with the students of Hogwarts, so they spread out all along the table. As luck would have it, she sat smack dab right in front of them on the opposite end of the table, smoothing her skirt with her hands before sitting on the wooden bench. She shoots everyone a smile while they all stare as if she were an alien. 

“She might not even know English, it’s gonna be okay,” Fred whispers to George, trying to calm down the marching thumps of his heart. The Weasley boys don’t know how to whisper. Her head snaps towards them and in a perfect King’s English British accent, she says, “I do know English, thank you very much, no need to whisper about me.” 

She folds her arm in front of her chest. Fred’s mouth hangs just enough so his lips part, it takes him too long to answer, so George takes the lead, “Sorry, we didn’t mean to be rude, what’s your name?” 

Her name drips from her lips as sweet as honey and as perfect as she is, less with the scowl that she’s currently pointing towards him. George gives his brother a look and when the response is still loading, he offers their names. Just as fast as he blinks, Fred switches his demeanour. A known and comfortable mischievous grin slips on his face. He leans forward towards her and says, “So, what’s Beauxbaton’s like and what’s a Brit doing there and not here?”

“Well, my step-brother went there first because he’s French and then mom decided it’d be easier if we both went to the same school,” she shrugs, the defensive attitude melting away. Dumbledore claps his hands and the tables flood with food, the Hogwarts students note that it’s more extravagant than their usual dinners. 

“Shame, I could’ve known you earlier,” Fred flirts, and she half chokes on the spoon in her mouth. She coughs twice and her eyes dart around, nervous, her cheeks flushing, the complete opposite of the guarded look she had. Fred grins satisfied when he sees the red tint to her face, completely neglecting his brother noticing his own flush. The conversation continues, “What does it look like there?”

“It’s a lot more…glamorous than here,” she says, looking around her, finally taking a good look at the hall for the first time, “Both beautiful of course, but Beauxbatons looks more like something out of an art museum. There’s ice sculptures everywhere, lots of big gardens and nymphs that sing music to us during meals.” 

“Sounds like better entertainment than this,” Fred jokes, looking around and she notices that most of her friends have moved from sitting next to the older years to the younger ones. She shrugs her shoulders and muses, “This is alright too.” 

There isn’t any other way to describe Fred’s reaction other than he positively beams, so much so that Ron snickers at him. Fred shoves him from underneath the table, it’s not as if Ron is any better when it comes to these matters. Fred clears his throat, “As for the gardens, I could show you around.” 

“I’d like that.”

***

It’s starting to become an inconvenience. Fleur is lovely, everyone is at Beauxbatons. It’s a misconception that we all secretly hate each other, but I might consider throwing myself from a large mountain into a cold ocean if another boy from Hogwarts or Durmstrang asks her to the Yule Ball in front of me. She’s part Veela and not to mention absolutely stunning, she’s just completely magnetic, but that’s not the problem.

I’ve been asked out plenty, though not by who I wanted. Fleur’s already secured a date with Roger Davis who she’s enamoured with. Elodie had agreed to go with the best looking guy from Durmstrang, though a little bit vexed because Viktor Krum was taken. George had already asked Angelina ages ago! The Yule Ball is only a week away now and nothing! If only Fred could pluck up some of the courage his twin had.

Exploring Hogwarts in the last two months has been incredible, as well as the first challenge (Though having my friend fight off a dragon was not as enjoyable for me as it were for everyone else cheering in the arena). It also helps that I have one of the most charming (and handsome) people I’ve met show it all to me, along with a secret trip to Hogsmeade.

He arranged it in secret, led us through tunnels when it was after dinner and curfew. The cobwebs were horrible but all worth the sight of the old buildings under the night sky while Fred and I shared a butterbeer. I thought he’d for sure ask me then, when he, not so subtly, asked me about all the guys that have asked me to the ball, and not just that, he also asked me what their invitations were lacking. I replied: 

“It’s not like I want something big, I would actually hate it if someone asked me in front of everyone, it would feel more like I’m being pressured, not invited. I think I’d like something more secluded, maybe just something we’d get, we don’t have to be alone or anything but it should still feel intimate. I just want to feel like they care” 

After pouring my heart out, he’d simply nodded and kept walking to show me where the best sugar quills were sold. I was left flustered and it took me a few seconds before I could get my feet to follow him. Maybe it’s taking him so long because he’s planning something special…at least I hope so. 

It’s too difficult not to think about when I’m on my way to a mandatory study session that Madame Maxime demanded we take with the Hogwarts students. Apparently, many of the students, myself included, in all of the schools have neglected their studies in favor of experiencing the tri-wizard tournament with all its perks. 

There’s even been some talk about some chaotic parties thrown by the seventh years right after the champions were selected that had resulted in detention for a week for everyone involved. 

It’s only a small up-side when Madame Maxime tells us that we can sit anywhere we’d like. Without a second thought I choose to sit with the Gryffindors, regardless of the fact that the horrible professor Snape that Fred tells me about is the one directing their session. Regardless, any time spent with Fred is better than time spent without him. It’s only slightly unnerving how much I like him.

The table is spilling students from each side, everyone cramped onto the bench, so I sit opposite to Fred instead of right beside him. It wasn’t as disadvantageous as I’m making it sound, I could sneak glances at him when he wasn’t looking; his hair, his eyes and his freckles, I could spend days just looking at them. I dream of the opportunity to be so close to him that I could count them. 

Unintentionally and hopelessly, I let out a sigh. It’s just then when I’m shushed by Snape quite aggressively though I’d take it over being smacked on the head like Harry and Fred’s brother, Ron. It’s then when I realise that Snape wouldn’t let us let a whisper out, squandering my plans of sharing whispers and mumbles with Fred. 

I’m not sure if he would’ve liked that, though. When I entered the Great Hall, I was greeted by his friends and family, but not him, not so much as a glance. He didn’t peek from his paper to even offer a wave and it left a pit in my stomach. He hasn’t so much as created a bit of mischief, which he’d adore, considering that it’s Snape that’s watching over us. 

It seems that he’s actually studying. He hasn’t lifted his head from looking at his paper and jotting down the answers with his quill. My own studies weren’t too long. I’m nearly finished with the work when I feel something hitting me on the head before falling on my papers. It’s a- small paper ball? My face twists in confusion, another one smacks my head. Frustration bubbles inside me until I hear a familiar voice going, “PSSSTTT!” 

I grin, looking at Fred. ‘What?’ I mouth, before looking back, thinking of our safety from the professor’s anger, finding Snape looking somewhere else entirely. I look back and prompt Fred to go on, nodding with my head. He grins and instinctively, I grin too. Along with some elaborate motions with his hand, and twisting his torso left and right, he half mouths-whispers, ‘Would you go to the ball with me?’ 

My smile drops while he eagerly looks at me. Didn’t he listen to a thing I said? It was only a few days ago, he couldn’t have forgotten? As always, the question prompts people around us to whisper to each other, some giggle and others just mumble. I can hear them speculating what my answer would be. 

I flush under everyone’s eyes. I don’t enjoy being the subject of people’s discussions. I look back at Fred, his eyes wide with anticipation. I can’t keep the frown off of my face. The pit in my stomach grew and it made my eyes prickle. I reply, firmly, “No.” 

I stand up quickly, gathering my items haphazardly, thinking of the absolute horror of being rejected in front of many people, and that I’d put Fred through that. With my head down, I hand Snape the papers in my hand, missing the answers to the last paper before I semi-sprint out of the Great Hall. 

***

“Hey, can we talk?” Fred asks me as soon as I walk out of Astronomy. In truth, I didn’t want to talk to him. It’s only been a few hours since he’d ‘asked’ me, and I need some time to myself. Not to mention that it’s past midnight and I’m desperate for some sleep, my eyes heavy with sleep and ache. Still, my heart urges me to nod my head and follow him down the spiral steps and to the left towards some alcove, one that’s only secluded now because of the lack of students. 

I chew on my bottom lip, feeling the lip gloss on my tongue. I shudder at the taste even if it does taste like vanilla. I fold my arms and lean against the wall behind me, looking at him through my lashes, waiting for an explanation. When I adjust my satchel on my shoulder, he takes it out of my hands saying, “Let me hold that for you.” 

Against my better judgement, it makes all sorts of butterflies in my stomach fly that die when just like earlier today, he’s avoiding my eyes, staring at the ground, the ceiling, the wall above my head, anything, just not me. I gulp when he starts talking, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable today…”

“I just thought you liked me.” 

Against my better judgement, and beyond my ability to control it, my face twists. My upper lip scrunches up and my eyebrows touch and I frown. The words are so inaccurate that it’s hard for me to believe them coming out of his mouth. I scoff, “That can't seriously be the reason why you think I said no.” 

He snaps his head up from admiring his shoes and he says, “It’s not?” 

“I do like you Fred, but I hate the way you asked me,” I start, and then I sigh, unfolding my arms and trying to relax my face, I touch my cheek before continuing, “I hate how you asked me. It felt like you didn’t even care, like you were just asking me for the sake of getting a date and not actually because you wanted to ask me. I told you how I wanted to be asked and you did the exact opposite!” 

“I do care! I only want to go to the Yule Ball with you,” Fred admits, and the heat crawls up my neck. It takes everything in me to hold my ground, it nearly crumbles when he reaches out to hold my hand. His long fingers, encasing my hand perfectly, the warmth, exactly what I needed after the long lesson in the tall tower. 

“I’m sorry…I was scared, I didn’t want you to say no to me, so I made it impossible for you to not say no,” Fred explained, and I blink a couple of times before I laugh, “Fred, that’s the worst logic I’ve ever heard in my life.” 

It makes a smile break out on his face, and he squeezes my hand, “I know, I don’t understand why I get so nervous when I’m around you.” 

“You? The Fred Weasley nervous?” I tease. He commands every room with ease, comfortable with everyone’s attention, he revels in it. His pranks are always done where everyone can see them and applaud. So he’s nervous? Because of me? His face turns the same color as his hair and he raises his other hand to rub the back of his neck, throwing his head back, looking at the ceiling. He chuckles, “Don’t you remember the day we met?” 

“I just thought you were rude,” I say, remembering his whispers to George, but now, it makes sense. His jaw hanging and the way he let George do most of the talking. Fred laughs again at my comment. A moment passes and then he says my name and adds, “I really, really like you.” 

“I like you too, Fred,” I answered in a heartbeat. The heat reached up to my ears. He takes my other hand in his and he promises, “I’m going to ask you again tomorrow and it’ll be exactly what you want.”

I nod my head and my cheeks hurt from how wide my smile is, and I can barely see his face from how the smile makes my eyes squint. It seems like he’s the same. He nods his head along the path and motions for us to start walking. He takes a big step with his long legs before I grasp on to his hand tighter, stopping him. He stumbles and I giggle before hesitantly saying, “Fred, I know this would be much more romantic after the ball, but kiss me now instead?” 

It’s so fast that I couldn’t take a breath before he twists his arms around my waist and pulls me flush against him. His other hand cradles my head and he slams his lips onto mine, my own hands finding his back and shoulders. Madame Maxime would have a fit finding one of her students snogging a Hogwarts student past midnight in the middle of the hallways. He mumbles, “Don’t worry, it’ll be just as romantic when I kiss you then.” 

a/n: I hope you enjoyed reading! If you think this didn’t completely suck, feel free to check out my other masterlists. You can also support the blog or buy me a coffee here.