🪩Young And Sad🪩

I wipe my tears and try to keep hold of my dress, slowly making my way to Fred’s dorm. More sobs hit me at my frustration with this bloody heavy dress, and everything else that happened tonight. Finally, the “Do Not Disturb” paper the boys stuck to their door comes into view and I almost cry tears of relief.

I let go of my dress with one hand and knock on their door softly, looking around me to make sure I haven’t alerted any other dorm rooms.

Within moments, the door creaks open, revealing Lee Jordan. There is a shocked expression on his face as he takes in my tear-streaked cheeks and trembling form.

“Um, Fred?” Lee says worriedly, and slightly scared that there is a crying girl in front of him.

“Yeah, mate?” I hear Fred’s voice echo through the dorm, instantly bringing me a sense of safety.

“Come here,” Lee calls, his voice a higher pitch than normal.

Fred grumbles on the other side, having to get up from whatever he was doing.

Fred’s face appears over Lee’s shoulder and the second he sees me and the state I’m in, he pushes Lee out of the way.

“Whoa there, love. What’s wrong? What’s happened?” he asks, his eyes widening and concern filling his voice with each question.

Him asking just makes everything more real. I try to get a word out but all that leaves my mouth are pathetic squeaks. I quickly put my hands to my face and cry into them softly.

He quickly wraps his arm around me, ushering me into the dorm and closing the door behind us to ensure privacy.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he whispers, gently guiding me to his bed where we both take a seat on the edge. “What’s happened? Did somebody hurt you? Talk to me, love. Because if somebody hurt you—”

I cut him off, hearing the growing anger in his voice towards whoever made me cry.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Did I wake you lot?” I say, choking on my sobs and trying to wipe the never-ending stream of tears carefully so that my make-up doesn’t run down my face.

Fred gently reassures me, rubbing my back.

“No, no. You didn’t wake us, we were still up, honestly. Don’t worry about that.”

He reaches over and gently brushes a tear away from my cheek.

George and Lee, though initially surprised by my distressed appearance, seem to have gathered themselves and moved closer.

Lee speaks up, still a little squeaky with the fear of a crying girl.

“What happened, Y/N? What’s wrong?”

Fred nods in agreement, his attention still fully focused on me.

“Tell us, love. Tell me, please.”

“I’m sorry, it’s stupid,” I say, now mortifyingly aware of how embarrassing it is to be crying like this in front of them about something so small.

But the look on Fred’s face urges me to continue.

“I—I was in the corridor looking for you. And a Slytherin—”

My sobs cut me off, the fear of the moment still festering.

Fred’s face darkens as he listens to my choked words, his gaze hardening at the mention of a Slytherin.

“A Slytherin? Who was it?” he asks.

George and Lee also perk up at the mention of a Slytherin being the cause of my tears. The three boys exchange a glance over my head, anticipating a clue or a name they might recognise.

“Pucey…” I manage to get out.

A collective tenseness fills the room as I utter Pucey’s name. Fred’s grip on my hand tightens, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Pucey?” he repeats, his jaw clenching. “What did he do, Y/N? Did he hurt you? Say the word and I’ll hex that git so badly he won’t remember which end of his wand is which.”

I cry more, hearing the anger in his voice, the whole situation becoming more real.

“H-he didn’t do anything. Snape stopped him.”

Fred blinks.

“Snape stopped him?” he echoes, an eyebrow arching in disbelief.

He exchanges a confused glance with George and Lee.

“Snape… intervened?”

I shrug, my body still trembling as I try to stop crying.

Fred reaches an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him.

“You’re safe, love. Snape may be a greasy git, but I’m glad he was there to stop Pucey.”

George snorts.

“Yeah, who would’ve thought we’d be thanking Snape for anything.”

Lee remains quieter, watching me with concern.

Fred suddenly frowns again.

“What was Pucey going to do before Snape stopped him?”

I shiver slightly.

“I—he asked what I was doing alone. Said he just wanted to provide company to a damsel in distress. He kept complimenting my dress and getting closer, and then Snape arrived before anything else could happen.”

Fred’s face darkens again, but he quickly softens when I lean against him.

He strokes my hair gently.

“Don’t worry about Pucey, love,” he murmurs. “I won’t let him near you again. You can be sure of that.”

My nerves calm at his protectiveness.

I nod against him, sniffling.

After a few moments of silence, George speaks up with a hint of humour.

“You know, Y/N, if Pucey ever gives you trouble again, I know a few hexes that’ll put him in his place.”

I smile and chuckle softly.

“Thanks, you lot. And I’m sorry again. It’s stupid. He didn’t even do anything, I was just frightened.”

I sigh.

“I just can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if no one was there…”

Fred tightens his grip slightly.

“It’s not stupid at all,” he says firmly. “Pucey’s a git, and you’ve every right to be frightened of him. But you’re safe with me. I won’t let him do anything to you. And George and Lee won’t either, right?”

“Course not!” George says immediately.

“Absolutely not,” Lee adds.

I nod, laughing softly. Despite my laughter, I still can’t quite stop trembling.

Fred pulls me closer.

“You’re safe here with us. You’re stronger than you think, Y/N. Don’t let Pucey shake you.”

I cuddle closer to him, my tears now subsided.

After a couple minutes of silence, Fred suddenly brightens.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “You look like you could do with a little cheering up. How about we pull a prank on old Pucey tomorrow? Just a little something to get back at him for scaring you tonight.”

Lee’s eyes widen with excitement.

“Ooo, count me in! What kind of prank are you thinking? Exploding Snap in his face?”

I smile.

“That sounds nice,” I say, agreeing to one of their pranks for the first time.

Fred grins.

“Perfect. Leave it to us, love. We’ll come up with something brilliant. That git won’t know what hit him.”

George fist-bumps the air.

“This is going to be brilliant.”

I laugh quietly at their excitement.

Fred’s smile widens in relief.

“There she is,” he says, ruffling my hair affectionately. “Laughing suits you, love. Much better than crying.”

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————

After a bit of plotting, he gets up and grabs me a pair of his pyjamas.

“Not as cute as yours, but they’ll have to do,” he says with a grin.

I laugh, taking the ridiculously large pyjamas and bringing them with me to the bathroom.

In there I get changed, take off my make-up, and let my hair down from the ball.

When I emerge from the bathroom, the boys’ eyes widen and Fred chokes on a laugh.

“Well, look at you,” he teases. “You look like you’re wearing a tent.”

“Shut up, it’s not my fault you’re ridiculously tall,” I laugh, sitting down between him and George where they’re still planning their payback.

Fred clutches his chest dramatically.

“I’m just teasing, love. You look adorable in nightwear, even if they are drowning you a bit.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

I sit tucked under his arm for a little while longer. Eventually, though, sleep begins to creep up on me.

Fred plants a kiss on my forehead as I stand.

While they’re immersed in their plotting, I crawl into Fred’s bed and wrap myself in the blankets. With a swish of my wand, the curtains of the four-poster bed swing closed, giving me a moment to myself.

I toss and turn for a bit before settling on my side and staring at the curtain beside me.

My mind won’t quiet. It never does.

It wanders until I begin to think about my parents.

Harry is our father’s spitting image, as we’ve always heard. And I apparently carry some of my mother’s most dear traits. I have always found comfort in the fact that we hold pieces of them, that we embody parts of them. But it isn’t the same as having them here with us. Not the same as feeling the comfort of their love and their pride. I have always wondered how it was possible to miss someone I barely knew. Someone I don’t have many memories of. Yet I miss them so much that it hurts to think that I am here while they are not.

Remus and Sirius once sat with me and told me stories about them, some of their dearest memories with their friends. They weren’t the first to tell me these things, but they were the first people I believed when they said I was like my mother. Determined. Kind. Loyal. But they were also the first to tell me how I resembled my father’s personality as well. I have always known that I carry his brown hair and his brown eyes, but they told me that I have his heart. They used to say he had “an ego the size of a lake, but a heart to match it.” They made it clear that I didn’t have that ego, and that they didn’t think anyone else ever could, but that I certainly had his heart.

The sound of hushed voices and rustling blankets pulls me back to the present.

I feel the bed dip slightly as Fred climbs in.

As I come back to reality, I realise that tears have streamed down my cheeks and pooled onto the pillow.

I quickly wipe them away.

However, he notices my movement. “Hey… you still awake, love?” he murmurs.

“Mhm,” I say softly, turning towards him.

His eyes widen slightly when he notices my tear-stained cheeks. He instantly moves closer, wrapping his arms around me. “What are you crying about, love? Is it Pucey again? Because I’m telling you—”

“Nothing,” I interrupt softly. “It’s nothing.”

I curl up against him, letting him run his fingers through my hair. His embrace tightens slightly. “It’s not nothing if it’s making you cry,” he whispers. “You can talk to me, love. I want to be there for you.”

“’M just thinking,” I murmur.

“Thinking about what?” he asks quietly.

“My parents.”

He pulls me a little closer. “You’re thinking about your mum and dad?” he asks softly.

I nod.

He presses a gentle kiss to my hair. “They would be proud of you, you know,” he whispers. “Your parents. They’d see how strong and kind you are. They’d be proud.”

I sniffle softly. “Thank you, love,” I say, pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

“Anytime,” he replies softly.

A comfortable silence settles over the room as I hold onto him, broken only by the steady rhythm of our breathing. His fingers continue running gently through my hair.

“I love you,” I mumble sleepily. Fred’s expression softens completely. He rests his cheek against my head.

But no—it’s not Fred. He isn’t as tall, and his hair is shorter. I grip my wand tightly. Running would be useless in heels and this dress. I’m utterly alone.

“H-hello?” I call out, my voice laced with nerves.

The figure keeps coming, slow and deliberate. The tap of his shoes echoes ominously through the corridor. When he speaks, his voice is smooth, tinged with superiority and confidence.

“Lost, perhaps? Or just enjoying a midnight stroll in that rather fetching dress of yours?” he smirks, voice dripping with mockery.

“Going to see my boyfriend,” I say, hoping to scare him off or at least make him back off.

But my reply only amuses him. A low chuckle escapes his lips, bouncing off the walls.

“A boyfriend, you say?” he muses. “How convenient for you, then. Lucky bloke, I must say.”

He steps forward, and a jolt of recognition hits me. He’s an older Slytherin student—I’ve seen him before—but I can’t recall his name.

Instinctively, I step back. The tension in the air is sharp now. He keeps coming, confidently, as though this is all a game.

The torchlight flickers across his face as his lip curls into a sardonic smile.

“Oh, a little jumpy, aren’t we?” he taunts.

“What do you want?” I ask, voice hardening. If Harry and I can face down Voldemort, I can handle this... right? But I’m alone now, and I don’t know what he wants.

“Oh, nothing much,” he replies coolly. “Just wondering why a pretty little thing like you is wandering these halls alone. Especially in that... very enticing dress, love.”

“That’s none of your business,” I say, trying to buy time—for what, I’m not sure. I just know I need to get out of this.

His smirk widens. The gleam in his eyes grows more unsettling.

“Oh, is it not?” he counters. “Here I was, thinking a damsel in distress might appreciate a little company in these dark, lonely halls. How careless of me.”

He takes another step forward, his wand now clearly visible in his hand.

I take another careful step back.

Then, slicing through the tension like a whip, a voice echoes through the corridor.

“Mr. Pucey.”

Snape’s voice, cold and commanding, cuts through the air. Pucey freezes. I see his spine straighten at once as Snape emerges from the shadows, his dark robes swirling around him.

“Explain yourself.”

Pucey tries to recover, shrugging on a mask of cool nonchalance.

“Professor Snape,” he says smoothly, though unease creeps into his tone. “I was merely... offering a helping hand to this lovely young lady. She seemed lost.”

Snape’s black eyes flick to me, then back to Pucey. He scoffs.

“A likely story. Return to your dormitory. Your... services are not required.”

Pucey hesitates, jaw clenched, but after a moment, he mutters a begrudging,

“Yes, Professor,” and slinks back into the darkness.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. For once, I’m grateful Snape appeared.

He turns to me then, eyes sharp.

“Miss Potter,” he intones. “Might I ask what business you have being outside your common room at such a late hour?”

“I was just looking for Fred, Professor. I didn’t realize the time... or that the Yule Ball had already ended.”

A flicker of annoyance crosses his face before it’s masked behind his usual cold detachment.

“Hm,” he scoffs. “Potter or Weasley—you lot are always seeking each other out. Very well. Return to the common room. And try to manage your romantic pursuits more responsibly.”

Even though my brother despises Snape, I’ve never had a truly bad encounter with him. And though I don’t want to be a burden, the idea of walking back alone terrifies me.

“Sorry, Professor... and—though you’ve helped me once tonight—would it be too much trouble to ask if you could walk me back to the common room?”

His eyes narrow. But then, with a reluctant sigh, he answers,

“Very well.” The words are stiff, but tinged with a trace of understanding. “I shall escort you. Follow me.”

I fall into step beside him, thankful yet still shaken. My thoughts swirl—Snape knew my parents. Maybe that’s why he’s always so harsh with me and Harry. And I’ve developed a bit of a habit: I ask everyone who knew them what they remember.

“Professor Snape?”

He glances sideways at me. His expression is unreadable, though his voice is taut with impatience.

“Yes, Miss Potter? What is it?”

“You knew my mum, right? Can you tell me about her?” I lift my dress to catch up with him.

His jaw tightens. A scowl flashes briefly across his face, but he doesn’t shut me down.

“Your mother, Lily,” he begins coolly. “She was the brightest student in her year. Resourceful. Determined. Fiercely loyal.”

His voice carries a trace of something softer—regret, maybe—as he continues.

“She had a sharp wit and a kind heart. She stood up for others, even when it was difficult. She held firm to her beliefs. It’s no surprise your father was drawn to her.”

“My brother has her eyes,” I say quietly, a sad smile tugging at my lips.

Snape flinches slightly at the mention of Harry. His expression darkens.

“Indeed,” he replies, voice brittle. “Your mother’s eyes... they haunt those who knew her. A constant reminder of what was lost.”

“Everyone says I’ve got my dad’s eyes,” I add, unaware of the tension in his face.

He glances at me. His mouth twists with disdain.

“Ah yes,” he sneers. “The spitting image of James Potter. It’s a shame you inherited his looks rather than your mother’s finer traits.”

His words hit me like a slap, but I push them down. Crying wouldn’t do me any good.

We continue in silence. The tension thickens with every step until we reach the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

Snape stops, robes billowing around him.

“I trust you can find your way from here,” he says curtly. “Do not let me catch you wandering again at this hour.”

I nod and slip inside. The portrait door closes behind me.

That’s when the composure breaks. Tears pour down my face. Sobs choke me. I clap a hand over my mouth to keep quiet as I collapse onto one of the chairs by the fire, overwhelmed by everything.

I sigh realizing it’s no use and he won’t turn away from his papers. I sit up from the bed and walk over to the desk. I throw a leg over his and sit on his lap facing him.

"I have a question," I say with a hint of nervousness as I play with my hands behind his head. Even though we’re together, this boy never fails to make me flustered.

Fred looks up and smiles. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, he gives me a reassuring smile. "Go on then."

"You know how the Yule Ball is being held this year. And you know since I’m a champion I have to have a date—" I see him open his mouth, ready for a snarky remark, so I interrupt him before he can even have a go. "Well, I still wanted to be polite and ask you formally… so, Fred Weasley. Will you be my date to the Yule Ball?"

He snickers. "Y/n, of course, I’d love to be your date for the ball," he replied, a hint of teasing in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off and dance the night away with the most special person in my world."

I roll my eyes and laugh at his last statement. "Good," I say smiling. He gently squeezes my waist, pulling me closer.

"Good indeed," he echoed, his smile widening. "We'll have a blast, and I promise to be on my best behavior... mostly."

"I expect nothing less," I tease, wrapping my arms around his neck to hug him. Fred happily embraces the warmth and closeness of the hug. His hands gently run up and down my back, and he rests his chin on my shoulder, savoring the moment. He presses a soft, lingering kiss on the crook of my neck, making me giggle.

I sigh dramatically. "Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to your studies, especially since this is a once-in-a-lifetime event." I ignore his gasp and make my way back to his bed.

"You know, you make it exceedingly difficult to concentrate on homework when you're looking so charming in my bed," a hint of amusement in his voice. "I promise, next time I’ll try to resist your alluring charm and finish quicker." He laughs as he pushes his homework away and gets a running head start to jump on the bed.

"Well, you’re so hard to resist sitting over there and not here with me." I yelp as he jumps onto the bed and gets comfortable next to me.

He shifts his position, pulling me even closer, and gently brushing a few strands of hair away from my face. "You're right," he murmurs softly. "Being near you trumps any homework assignment. I should've known better." He gently kisses my temple.

I rest my head on his chest and hug him close, closing my eyes.

Leaning down, he placed a soft, tender kiss on the crown of my head, then settles back into the embrace, content to stay right there in the moment.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" I mumble.

"Of course you can," he replies softly. "There's nowhere else I’d rather you be." He brushes his fingers lightly through my hair.

He uses his wand to pull the curtains closed for when his dorm mates and brother come in for bed. "Night, Freddie," I say, planting a kiss on his neck.

"Night, love," he whispers, pulling me impossibly closer.

----------------------

My Yule Ball dress is draped around me as Hermione is putting my hair up on my head.

"Thanks, Mione, this means a lot," I say, watching through the mirror as I finish up my makeup. It's just me, Mione, and Ginny in the room as we get ready for the Yule Ball.

"Want me to do your makeup?" I ask her.

When she finally finishes my hair, I smile as her expression lights up with gratitude. "That would be wonderful," she replies, the appreciation evident in her voice. "I haven't had a chance to focus on my own preparations, and I was starting to feel a bit nervous about it."

I take my time doing her makeup and making her as beautiful as she made me. I take a step back and clasp my hands together when I’m done. "Mione, you look beautiful!" I squeal, jumping up and down as best I can in my dress and heels.

Ginny steps out of the bathroom all done, her makeup and hair looking flawless, making me squeal again. "Ginny, you look gorgeous!" I put my hands to my mouth. "Bloody hell, I’m gonna cry," I say, sniffling.

"Oh, come now, bring it in." I laugh, blinking away my tears and opening my arms for them.

They beam at me, and without hesitation, they step forward, embracing me. The three of us laugh, reveling in the joy and excitement of the moment.

----------------------

I descend the grand steps gracefully, leading into the Great Hall. Heads turn, and whispers fill the air amongst the students gathered for the Yule Ball. The elegant train of my dress trails behind me, but my focus is fixed on the entrance, where Fred is waiting for me.

I watch as his expression instantly shifts to one of admiration and awe, his eyes widening with utter captivation.

As I reach Fred, he immediately shifts to his usual playful self, and he effortlessly lifts me off the ground. Without hesitation, he brings his lips to mine, capturing them in a tender kiss.

George, always one to jest, couldn't resist chiming in with a comment, his voice laced with mock disgust. "That's absolutely revolting," he teases, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

Undeterred by his brother's remark, Fred deepens the kiss, his amusement evident as he ignores the playful interruption.

"You look good," I say, linking our arms after we pull apart.

"You're only just noticing now?" he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But thank you, love. You look absolutely dashing."

"Thank you, love," I say, standing on my toes and planting a kiss on his jaw. "You know, you're doing wonders for my ego tonight."

He gently wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side.

We hear Professor McGonagall beginning to call the names of the champions and their dates into the Great Hall to start off the dance. Me and Fred rush to the doors just in time for her to call our names.

We step onto the dance floor for the opening dance, and I watch as Fred's demeanor shifts from his usual playful self to a more formal and composed one. His hand finds its natural place on my waist, his steps measured and purposeful as he guides us through the dance.

I am quick to notice that beneath his facade of finesse, there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes, like he’s secretly enjoying playing the part of the refined gentleman for the night.

"What are you smiling about?" I chuckle as we dance.

"Nothing much," he replies, pulling me back to him after spinning me, his voice tinged with a touch of mischief. "Just enjoying the fact that I get to dance with the most beautiful girl in the room, and secretly laughing at how I manage to pull off these formal moves without tripping over my own feet."

"Well, you’re doing great," I say as he spins me, then pulls me back to his chest again. "I owe it all to my secret weapon," he whispers, pulling me closer, a hint of teasing in his voice. "Dancing with a girl as radiant as you makes it easy to forget my own two left feet."

I roll my eyes to prevent my cheeks from heating up because of his endless charm and compliments. We end the dance with a kiss.

---------------------------

The whole night we dance, formal and informal, just having fun. We're in the middle of another song when I see Hermione walk out of the Great Hall in tears after talking to Ron. I turn to Fred. "I'll see you later. I need to check on Mione." I say, kissing his cheek and running after her.

"Of course, love. Go check on her. I'll be here when you return." I hear him shout after me.

I reach the entrance of the Great Hall and look around. It takes me a moment to spot her sitting on the stairs crying softly as she pulls her heels off.

"Oh, Mione, what happened?" I say, approaching her, lifting the front of my dress to walk up the stairs.

She looks up at me, her face stained with tears. She manages a weak smile. "Hey," she squeaks through her tears, her voice somewhat shaky. "It's Ron being his usual self. He's not too fond of me going to the ball with Krum." She sniffles softly.

"Don't let him ruin your night, he doesn't know his head from his arse sometimes," I say, sitting down next to her, then immediately pulling her in for a hug as she cries more.

"I know, I know," she answers through her tears. "But it still hurts, you know? I thought he'd be happy for me, but I guess not."

"I know, Mione, I know," I say, helping her up.

"I think it's complicated," I continue as we head to the Gryffindor common room.

The rest of the journey back to the Gryffindor Common Room was undertaken in silence, broken only by the soft sound of tears. Finally reaching the Fat Lady's portrait, Hermione speaks, her voice tinged with a mix of hurt and confusion. "I don't know what I did wrong, y/n," she admits, her eyes downcast. "It's all just so complicated."

"You did nothing wrong, you hear me? I-I think he doesn't know how to tell you how he feels, but he shouldn't take that out on you." I say as we reach our dorm.

"Maybe you're right," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "But it's hard not to doubt myself when he acts like this, you know? I just wish things could be different between us."

"It will, I'm sure of it," I say, putting my hands on her face and wiping the fresh tears that cascade down her face. She takes a deep breath, her voice slightly shaky. "I hope you're right, Siena," she whispers. "I really do."

I help her out of her dress and into her pajamas. I help her take her makeup off and take her hair down, all the while she cries softly. I get into her bed with her, holding her close as she cries.