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Fred Weasley / Gryffindor Reader (Quidditch)
My friends always ask me why I play quidditch. It’s a bloody, violent sport and they don’t understand what I see in it. I argue back that it’s not about the broken bones or threat of harm, it’s about the thrill of the game, house pride, and adrenaline rush from being so high up in the air with hundreds of students cheering all around you. It’s about the fun of it and the joy of winning. Quidditch is a magical game, but it’s also a sport and I was born an athlete and a witch. Therefore, it just makes sense that I’d be so invested in it.
Of course, I always say this the night before or morning of a match as I drag my friends along to an early breakfast with me. They’ll groan and complain, but end up waking up early anyway. Defending myself and quidditch has become a part of my pre-match routine and it does a fantastic job of hyping me up.
Now, though, I want to take back every word I’ve ever said about quidditch being so bloody great. It can be sometimes, but right now I’d curse the damn game to hell and back if I could even sit up.
My head is absolutely pounding, as though some tiny creature crawled in my ear and decided to take a hammer to my skull. I can’t barely open my eyes from the pain, and when I do I can’t see shite because they’re tearing up too much. Groaning, I flop my head back down on the pillow of the hospital bed, squeezing the hand of Hermione beside me. I can’t tell who else is around me, but I hear Luna and Neville’s voices as well. They seem to be speaking to Madam Pomfrey about my condition.
The noise becomes too much, and I raise my arm, using it to cover my already closed eyes. I had just woken up, and for the life of me I can’t remember how I ended up in the hospital wing. Last thing I can recall was prepping for the match this morning and getting changed in the Gryffindor tent.
Hermione hears my groan of pain and squeezes my hand before calling over Madam Pomfrey.
“She’s awake.” I hear the rustle of fabric as someone rushes over and a hand grabs my wrist, removing my arm from my face.
“Can you open your eyes, dear?” Pomfrey’s kind voice comes from above me.
“It bloody hurts,” I groan. The last thing I want to do is open my eyes. The lights in here have never seemed so bright before. I manage to open my eyes just a crack, peering up at Pomfrey’s concentrated face.
“I know, dear. It seems you have a nasty concussion. I told Madam Pooch, the players need helmets! But no, she didn’t listen…” She goes off rambling about the lack of safety precautions while heading over to her office in the back.
“How are you feeling?” Luna asks. You look over at her and try your best to smile.
“Never been better, Luna my love. I gotta say, you look quite fetching in that hat of yours.” Luna smiles back at the compliment, and I ignore Hermione’s look of concern. Instead, I look towards Neville.
“Neville, mate, I know I rejected you in second year but I’m not gonna bite. You can come a little closer to the bed, man. And I don’t know if it’s bedhead or if it was windy outside, but messy hair looks good on you.” He flushes a bright red before shifting a little closer to the bed, placing his ends on the foot railing.
Hermione places the back of her hand on my forehead. “Are you feeling ok, O'Kelley? You acting very… unlike yourself.” I smile at her concern and grab her hand, pulling it down from my forehead.
“Well, Hermione, I did just wake up in the hospital wing with no idea of how I got here, so I can’t imagine I’m in peak condition. Other than my head feeling like it’s giving birth to another brain, I can’t imagine much is wrong.” Reaching up, I bop my finger on the tip of her nose and giggle a bit. Her look of concerns only grows after that.
Madam Pomfrey finally comes back from her office holding a vial of some potion. “Drink this,” she says. “It’ll help with the pain and relieve some of the symptoms.”
“Ah!” You manage to prop yourself up on your elbow with help from Hermione and reach up to grab the potion from her. You hold it up in a silent cheers before swiftly downing it. Your face cringes at the horrible taste, but you manage to swallow it all.
“Madam Pomfrey… Poppy, love, you brew the vilest potions.” You hand the vial back to her and drop back down on the bed. Almost immediately the pain in your head begins to fade into a dull thumping and you sigh in relief.
“Severely underappreciated, you are Poppy Pomfrey. And what an alliterate name, too.” She rolls her eyes and walks over to the head of your bed, reaching up above your eyes. You don’t know what she’s doing until you see bandages falling in front of your eyes.
“So… I suppose I bonked my head then, did I? Is that what all the bandages are for?” Your eyes widen as you see the bandages Madam Pomfrey pulls away. They’re covered in blood and are mostly dry, but you can tell there’s still some fresh spillage there.
“Oh… banged it up pretty good, then.”
Pomfrey tuts and she pulls out fresh bandages and begins wrapping them around your head. “I’d say, Miss O'Kelley. It’s a severe head wound. You’re lucky you got away with only a concussion.”
“Well, can’t you just magic it away? Use some healing spells or something?” This time Hermione rolls her eyes.
“No, she can’t just magic it away. It’s a head wound, and a severe one at that. It’s better to let it heal on its own without magic.” You reach up to touch the bandages Madam Pomfrey is wrapping around your head, but Hermione slaps your hand away. Pouting, you place your hand down.
“Madam Pomfrey, do you know what’s wrong with her?” Neville speaks this time, and you roll your eyes at him.
“Pretty sure it’s the fact that I nearly caved my head in, Neville boy.” Luna giggles before speaking.
“Yes, but you’re acting all different. It’s quite funny, really.” Four concerned faces are looking at you now, and you feel quite uncomfortable under all the scrutiny.
“Yes, I see what you’re talking about,” Madam Pomfrey mumbles. “Head injuries have funny effects on the brain. This seems like simple disinhibition. She’s saying or doing things she normally would filter or restrain.”
She clicks her tongue as she finishes up wrapping the bandages. “It hopefully shouldn’t last too long and fade as she heals. Until then, I’d prepare for complete honesty. Granger, I want you to make sure she’s not put in any situations in which this might be taken advantage of.” Hermione nods with a determined look on her face.
“Well,” Pomfrey says. “She’ll have to stay overnight so I can keep an eye on her, but she can be discharged tomorrow. I’d like someone to come take her back to the common room. Just in case any other symptoms present themselves, she should never be left alone for long periods of time.”
Your three friends nod as Pomfrey shuffles back into her office. When the door closes you sigh and look at the three around you.
“So,” you start. “What happened to me? How did my head get banged up so bad?”
Neville winces a bit before speaking. “Well, you have to promise you won’t get mad. It was an accident, he didn’t mean to do it.”
Hermione glares at him and huffs in anger. “She has every right to be mad! He should have watched where he was hitting that bludger. If he were more careful, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“True,” Luna cuts in. “But he seemed awfully torn up about it.” You look around at the three of them in confusion.
“Wait, who? Did this happen during the match?” Hermione shifts her gaze back to you, her anger softening into concern.
“You really don’t remember. You were about halfway through the match when a bludger hit you in the back of the head. Fred had beaten it away from another player, but didn’t see you right beside him.”
Neville chuckled a bit. “Yeah, barely flew two meters before flying full force into your head. At the speed it was going, I’m surprised you didn’t…” He trails off at Hermione’s viscous glare and you can’t help but laugh.
“Must have been quite a sight. I can’t imagine I stayed on my broom, so how the hell did I survive?”
Luna answers this time. “Well, there was quite a crack when it hit you. Everyone stopped, the players and all… Once Fred realized what he’d done, he flew down to grab you. Quite the heroic catch, if you ask me.”
Hermione huffed again. “A catch that wouldn’t have been necessary if he’d been paying attention in the first place.”
You smile and lean your head back against the pillow. “Well, a heroic catch is a heroic catch, whether performed by a dunce or not. Weasley might be an idiot, but he’s got reflexes.”
“You know, I’d be a bit more offended if you hadn’t slipped a compliment in there too.” You look up at the familiar face and see Fred at the door of the hospital wing, still in all of his quidditch gear. There’s mud and sweat all over him, but he’s got a small smile on his face. That smile is the only soothing thing about his face; besides the cuts and scrapes, there’s worry and guilt painted all over him. You can tell he’s trying to appear casual with his arms crossed, but you can see the tight grip of his fists.
You see Hermione glaring at him, so you put a hand over her face and smile at him. “About time you got here, you bastard. Heard you were the one who landed me here. Can’t say I’m surprised.” His smile cracks a little at your words, guilt covering his face.
“Yeah… Yeah. Look, O'Kelley, I’m really-” You roll your eyes and interrupt him.
“Oh, shut it, will you?” He looks up at you, eyes wide and confused. “You’re sorry, yeah, yeah. You can say it a thousand times, Weasley, but I already know. So just come sit down and stop looking so sad, will you?” You give him a smile and pat the bed next to you where there’s enough room for him to sit down. He seems hesitant, but obliges, sitting with one leg pulled up onto the bed, facing you.
“Are you sure?” He asks. “I should have been looking where I was aiming the thing, I was so focused on everything else I didn’t even see you there.” Hermione huffs a little but says nothing and you smile, getting the feeling that she’s starting to warm back up to him.
“Weasley, I’m concussed out of my mind right now. Quite literally, actually. I wouldn’t waste my time on words I don’t mean, especially when I’d rather have you smiling while in bed with me rather than frowning.”
His eyebrows shoot up at that and a bewildered grin forms on his face. He glances at Hermione. “She really is concussed out of her mind, isn’t she?” Hermione sighs and nods.
“Pomfrey said it’s disinhibition caused by the concussion. She essentially has no filter between her thoughts and her mouth, so don’t take anything she says too seriously.” You laugh a bit and shift on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. One of your thighs ends up pressed against Fred’s. You don’t move it away. It’s awfully warm, his leg, and the hospital wing has a nasty draft.
“It’s not like I’m mad now, Hermione. I know what I’m saying, even if I end up regretting it after.” You turn your head back and look at her. “In fact, and I’m sure I’m going to regret this instantly, but if I swung the other way, ‘Mione, then I’d shove Weasley right off this bed and do terrible and brilliant things to you.” You watch as her face heats up, turning more red than you’ve ever seen her. She clears her throat and stands, brushing invisibly dust from her pants.
“Right,” she says. “I think it’s about time we let you get some rest. You clearly need it.” You shoot her a wink and she rolls her eyes, cheeks still flushed. Luna is giggling next to Neville who looks almost as red as Hermione.
Hermione begins walking away, linking her arm with Luna’s as she tugs them along. Neville says a quick ‘see you later’ before following after them, leaving you and Fred alone. Once you hear the door shut behind them, you look at him and burst out into laughter. He seems bewildered, but laughs along with you. When you finally settle down, you raise an eyebrow at him.
“You’re not trying to get me alone, are you Weasley? Let me remind you, I have a boyfriend.” He gives you a smirk.
“Trust me, O'Kelley, I didn’t forget. And I was trying to get you alone, but not in that way. I feel awful about what happened, really, and now you're concussed and I feel even worse. Just… I don’t know how long it will take for you to get better, but let me help you, yeah? Whatever you need help with, like taking notes or carrying your bag or anything. Let me know, will you? It’s the least I can do after causing all of this.”
The guilty look is back as he wrings his hands together, playing with his long fingers. You watch him fidget for a moment, face impassive as you think. Your immediate reaction would be to say no; you hate being babied and fussed over. You prefer to do your personal things on your own, such as carrying books and attending your classes.
Before you can open your mouth, though, a shot of pain throbs through your head and you wince. You put a hand up to your eye, pressing the heel of your palm against it in an attempt to calm the pain. Sighing, you realize what the logical decision is. It won’t be pleasant, you think, having someone following you around all the time, but at least until you’re slightly healed you doubt you can carry on like usual.
Dropping your hand and looking up at Fred, you see his concerned face as he watches you wince. You also notice how he holds himself back, hand reaching out for a moment before he takes it back. Looking at his hands, you realize that if anyone is to help you out, it would be someone who knows when to help your stubborn arse and when to hold back. Smiling, you realize he might be that kind of person.
“Alright,” you say. “If it’ll make you feel better, then sure. Plus, as stubborn as I am, I can admit when I may need some help. So alright, you can help out. Thank you.” He jumps up from the bed, smiling with his hands now confidently at his sides.
“Brilliant,” he says. “When does Pomfrey let you go?” You smile at his enthusiasm, shuffling your legs so they rest on the warm spot Weasley was just sitting.
“Tomorrow morning. She wants to keep me overnight which will be dreadfully boring.” He chuckles a bit.
“Well, I do believe you’re supposed to be sleeping for most of that time anyway, so it shouldn’t be too unbearable. You need some rest.” You sigh as you turn yourself and flop on your back.
“Yes, I suppose,” you mumble. “Sleep means the mind can heal, and whatnot.” He nods as he laughs a bit before looking around the hospital wing and frowning.
“Hey, um… speaking of your boyfriend, has Davis come to see you yet?” You frown at the reminder and shake your head.
“No, I suppose not.” You shrug. It doesn’t bother you too much. The two of you started going out about a month ago. Davis asked you to Hogsmeade and you were bored, so you said yes. He was a nice enough guy, albeit a bit bland. His personality seemed to be made of cardboard, but you grew fond of him and agreed to be his girlfriend. After all, he was always warm when you leaned into him and was quite the brilliant snogger.
Your frown deepens. It would have been nice for him to visit. There’s still a feeling of hope that he’ll come visit at some point, though you don’t want to admit it.
Fred, perhaps seeing some sort of distress on your face, frowns before changing the subject.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your rest then, O'Kelley. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Giving him a small smile, you nod a bit.
“Yeah,” you say, voice soft. With one last kinda smile and ruffle of your hair, you watch as he walks out of the infirmary. You settle beneath the blankets of your small white bed, trying not to think about Davis. You can’t entirely ignore the small amount of pain in your chest. You knew he wasn’t the best boyfriend, but even he should know that not visiting your injured girlfriend is of poor taste. He is a fantastic snogger, though...
You fall asleep to that idea, though the image shifts in your head as you dream. You continue snogging someone, definitely a bloke, but it feels different. His fingers are longer, he seems taller, thinner yet fit. He feels naturally warm and smells of something you can’t place but can’t get enough of. It’s confusing, but you shrug it off later as you think back on it. You never did see his face, so you chalk it off as some imaginary dream man.
You wake up the next morning to Pomfrey bustling about. When she realizes you’re awake she comes over and checks on you, unwrapping and then rewrapping the bandages. After drinking a few potions and receiving a lengthy lecture on the proper care necessary for a concussion (take this potion every night before you go to bed, come and see me if anything worsens or changes, for the love of Merlin do not play anymore quidditch until I say so), you’re finally allowed to leave.
As soon as the words leave her mouth, Fred Weasley enters the hospital wing with almost unnatural timing. You raise your eyebrows at him as he walks over.
“Oh good,” Pomfrey says as she straightens the bed you were using. “You have someone to walk you back. Make sure she takes it easy, Weasley. No running, no quidditch, no straining herself, understand?” He gives her a mock solute before picking up your bag and gesturing for you to follow him. Thanking Madam Pomfrey as you go, you quickly catch up to him as he holds the door open for you. As soon as it shuts behind you, you look up to him.
“Quite the impressive timing, Weasley.” He gives you a smirk and a wink.
“What can I say, O'Kelley, I’m just naturally good at everything I do.” You snort.
“Or you waited outside the door until Pomfrey’s lecture was over.” You look up at him out of the corner of your eye and see him shrug.
“Maybe,” he says with a charming smile. “But I guess we’ll never know.” You let out a quick laugh and bump his arm with your shoulder. He looks down at you with an amused smile before it turns to concern.
“How are you feeling, though? Does your head hurt?” You wave him off.
“I feel fine, Weasley. My vision’s a little funky and my head always hurts a bit, but I’m fine. I’ve definitely felt worse after a quidditch match.” He slows his pace a little, concern still on his face but now coupled with a crooked smile.
“Well that’s good then, I suppose.” The two of you begin climbing the stairs leading up to the Gryffindor common room. You make it up to the first landing before frowning, pressing your hands against your head. The throbbing worsened by step ten, and now your vision was spinning. No matter how often you train, stairs always seem to take the breath out of you. With a concussion, they seem to have become your worst enemy.
Once he realizes you’ve stopped, Fred immediately comes to your side, one of his hands covering your own on your temple. “Are you alright? Does it hurt?” You nod, but that only makes the pain worsen and you suck in a breath.
“The stairs…” You manage to get that out, but the thought of doing anything but lying down, even talking, seems unbearable right now. Weasley removes his hand from yours and you hear shuffling in front of you. Cracking one eye open, you see him adjust your bag that he’s been carrying so it’s strapped across his chest, bag hanging on his front. He then turns around and crouches down a bit before looking over his shoulder at you.
“Come on, then,” he says, as if the reason for his strange position is obvious. You raise a dubious eyebrow at him and he sighs. “On my back, O'Kelley. You clearly can’t walk up the stairs, and I happen to be fit enough to be able to carry you.” You swat his back as he comments on how fit he is, but you resign yourself to your fate. You don’t think you could finish walking up the seemingly countless flights of stairs even if you wanted to. Damn this school and it’s vertical layout.
Shuffling towards him, you wrap your arms over his shoulder and around his neck, careful not to choke him. You wrap one leg around his waist before he begins lifting up, gripping your thighs and bringing your other leg around as well. You flush a bit at his warm hands on your legs, but quickly lose focus as your head pounds once more. Closing your eyes, you press your forehead between his shoulder blades, taking deep breaths in an attempt to get the pain to subside.
“Ok back there?” You remain silent, simply nodding your head against his back. With that, he begins walking, going slowly up the stairs so as not to jostle you. You’d be more grateful for his consideration if your head didn’t feel like it was about to implode.
Once you allow yourself to relax against Fred, the trip to the common room seems to take no time at all. It feels as though you’ve only just closed your eyes when you hear Fred give out the password and you feel one last step up as he enters the common room. You lift your head up, glancing around the common room and noticing that it’s empty.
“Where is everyone?” You ask. Fred grunts a little as he tries to shift you a little higher up his back.
“At breakfast, I suppose. They should be back soon, though.” You nod and rest your cheek against his back as he walks through the common room. For a moment he leans forward, tilting you almost horizontal against his back. You squeak a bit, and his hand lets go of your right leg, instead digging into his pocket. Before you say anything, he’s taken out his wand and whispered a spell you couldn’t quite here. Gripping your leg again, he straightens up and begins walking up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories.
You lean your head forward, chin resting on his shoulder as you give him a suspicious look. “And how is it that you’re able to climb these stairs, Weasley? Do I even want to know how or why you found a spell like that?” You hear him laugh and feel the vibrations against his back.
“Probably not, no,” he says. Reaching the top of the stairs, he walks down to your year’s dormitory, lightly kicking the door open. You snort against his shoulder at his carelessness, but he ignores it. Instead he walks into the room, facing the row of beds, pausing. Looking up, you point to the one that’s yours and he walks over to it before turning around and sitting on the edge of the bed. You untangle yourself from him and allow yourself to slowly lie back, eyes closed as you let out a long breath. Lying in your bed has never felt so good.
You feel the bed shift as Weasley stands up. You look over to him and smile.
“Thank you,” you say, trying to make your voice as genuine as you can. He smiles back, shrugging as he puts his hands in his pockets.
“Ah, it was no trouble at all.” You reach out and grab the sleeve of his jumper as you make eye contact.
“I mean it,” you say, staring into his eyes. “That trip would have been absolute hell if it weren’t for you. So really, thanks Weasley.” His eyes soften a bit and he looks to the side, pink covering his cheeks.
“I said I’d help, O'Kelley. I meant it.” You smile and let go of his jumper, closing your eyes and curling up on your bed. Lifting the comforter and getting under it would require too much effort, and so you peak one eye open at Fred with a grin.
“Well, if you really meant it then would you mind grabbing that blanket at the foot of my bed?” He snorts but nods, stepping away to grab the blanket before pulling it over you, taking extra care to make sure it covers your feet as well. You feel warm as you watch him tug the blanket over your socked toes and you can’t help the smile that stretches across your face.
Seeing your pleased face, Fred rolls his eyes with a smile. “Anything else, my liege?” You take a moment to jokingly stroke your chin, considering.
With a smile, you say, “Yes, actually.” You watch as his eyebrows raise. “I want you to go down to breakfast and eat something, Weasley. Can’t have you skipping a meal on my account, now can I?” He smiles back at you.
“No, never,” he says, voice soft. “What about you, though? You want me to bring you back any food? You need to eat too.” You let out a small sigh as you bury your face in your pillow.
“I’m ok for now. Can you tell Katie to snag me a muffin, though? The ones I like, though, the blueberry. She always forgets and grabs the gross ones with the cranberries.” Your nose crinkles in disgust as Fred laughs.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll let her know. I’ll make sure her hands don’t stray anywhere near those filthy cranberries.” You chuckle.
“Thank you. Now get out of here, Weasley, this is the girls’ dorms.” He raises his hands in surrender and begins to walk away from your bed.
“Alright, alright,” he says, still chuckling. “I’ll be going. I’ll check on you later, yeah?” You mumble some sort of agreement that he seems to accept and listen as his steps fade and the door clicks behind him. The room suddenly seems much darker than it did a moment ago, but you brush it off. You were probably too distracted by Fred and his jokes to notice.
You tug the blanket up beneath your chin as you begin to drift off to sleep. You’re not sure why, but you're in a better mood than you imagine you would be with a concussion at 9 o’clock in the morning. Still, your chest feels lighter than it did yesterday, and why should you complain about that?
**********
When Fred asked to help you out, you figured it would be a ‘once a day, let me carry your books’ kind of thing. What you didn’t expect was for him to be practically attached to your hip at all times. As Gryffindors in the same year, you shared nearly every class together, and so hardly a minute went by when Fred wasn’t in your vicinity.
You didn’t see him for the rest of the day after he walked - carried, really - you back to the common room as you decided to just rest in bed for the rest of the day, head still pounding. As soon as you stumbled out of your dorm for breakfast on Monday, however, Fred was right there waiting and ready to carry your bag. You tried to insist that you were fine to carry it on your own, but he refused to listen, snatching it from your grasp before you could think to stop him.
You huffed at the time, reminding him that you’re not a baby, but deep down you thought it was sweet of him, though you’d never admit it. He sat next to you for breakfast, George right there with him. It was different from your usual routine of sitting with Katie, Angelina, and Alicia, but the twin’s presence somehow made the meal more enjoyable than usual. It was at least filled with more laughter and noise.
You thought that would be the end. The two of you would get to class, sit in your normal seats, and go through the day as usual. It never occurred to you that Fred would insist on taking Katie’s seat next to you, placing her beside George a couple rows behind you. You raise an eyebrow at his unusual behavior, but he just shrugs it off with an innocent smile and you let it go, chalking it up to him still feeling guilty over the whole incident.
You try to pay attention and take notes during the lesson, but after barely ten minutes of squinting in concentration, your head begins pounding again and the words swim on your parchment. You take a deep breath, placing your head between your hands as you shut your eyes in frustration. The added stress from missing parts of the lecture didn’t help the pain lessen.
After a few seconds, though, a warm hand is placed on the back of your neck. You snap your eyes open at the contact, careful not to jostle your head, as the thumb and forefinger begin lightly massaging into where your neck meets your shoulders. Out of the corner of your eyes you can see Fred beside you, still taking notes with his right hand as his left remains on you. You flush a little at the idea of the people behind you seeing his touch, but after a moment you realize that the soft massaging is more relaxing than stressful, and so you close your eyes again and let it go.
His light touch not only begins to drive the pain away, but is comforting enough to have you drifting to sleep in the middle of class. You’re not sure how long his hand remains there, but by the time the bell pulls you from your state of half-consciousness his hand is still there. You sit up a bit, blinking at your surroundings as you watch everyone collect their belongings and leave the classroom. You jerk up at this, Fred’s hand falling from your neck as you begin to panic.
“Bloody hell, I missed the whole lesson.” You look over at Fred who has an amused smile on his face. “Weasley, you should have woken me up!” You slap his arm as he just chuckles. Pulling out his wand, he flicks it at his notes-covered parchment with a quiet ‘Geminio.’ You watch as the parchment duplicates itself before Fred grabs it, rolls it up, and hands it to you.
“Here you are, then. Notes from today’s lesson.” You stare down at the parchment in his hands before blinking and looking up at him. Hesitating a bit, you grab the scroll from his hands and unroll it, reading some of the notes he’s taken. They’re written in clear handwriting, perfectly detailed with a few sketches for clarity thrown in there as well. You stare up at him and watch as his cheeks turn pink. He shrugs.
“I said I’d help, didn’t I? I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be reading or writing too much anyway.” He stands from his seat and begins packing his things into his bag. Without looking at you, he says, “If you want, I can go over them with you later during lunch or in the common room. Whenever you’re feeling up to it.”
Finally, he looks down at you as he slings his bag over his shoulder, hand outstretched for yours. You fumble as you stand in your seat, carefully placing his copied parchment in your bag along with your quill and ink. Your hair falls in your face a bit and you allow it to cover your pink cheeks.
Slowly handing your bag to Fred, you avoid his searching eyes. “Er… thank you, Weasley. You didn’t have to do that, and… well, I really appreciate it.” You let out an awkward laugh as your hand reaches up, rubbing the back of your neck. “The neck massage too, it worked wonders for the pain. Don’t know where you learned that, but it was brilliant. Thanks.”
You finally allow yourself to make eye contact with him, watching as a soft smile takes over his face. It quickly spreads to your mouth as well.
“No need to thank me, O'Kelley. I’m just a gentleman doing his duty.” He gives you a wink as he sling your bag over his other shoulder and starts walking towards the door. Rolling your eyes, you catch up to him, bumping yourself into his side.
The two of you continue joking as you walk to your next class. George and your friends left before you, and so as you enter the potions classroom in the dungeons you’re met with George’s smirk and their teasing faces. Fred is unable to sit next to you for this class, as Snape never allows students to move from their assigned spots, but luckily he and George were already placed across from you and Katie. You ignore Katie’s elbow nudging into your side as you take a seat, waving her off. You don’t look across the table at the twins, but you imagine Fred is getting similar treatment from George.
You find potions to be much easier than your previous lesson as there is significantly less reading and writing. Katie takes over going through the instructions, instead allowing you to do the easy bits, such as cutting and placing ingredients in the potion. It’s only towards the end of the lesson when the room begins to fill with the fumes from everyone’s potions when your head begins to ache. You rub your temples a bit, sighing in pain when suddenly a hand holding a vial places itself in front of your face.
Looking up, you see Fred watching you with an expectant look. You glance down at the potion before looking back up at him in a silent question.
“It’s one of the potions Pomfrey gave you to help with the pain. You said you didn’t take one this morning, so take it now.” You raise your eyebrows but take the vial from him, doing as he asks and swallowing the whole potion. It’s bitter and your face scrunches up at the taste, but Fred looks pleased as he takes the empty vial from you.
“Where’d you get one of those?” You ask. Your head is already feeling better and you sigh in relief.
“He went up to the hospital wing this morning.” It’s George who answers, looking between the two of you. His eyes settle on you, a teasing grin on his face. “Worried sick, he was. Wasn’t sure if Pomfrey gave you enough of those potions, so he went up to ask for more. He’s got a whole stock of ‘em now.” You laugh slightly as George explains, turning to Fred. His ears have gone bright red and you can’t help but smile as his bashful expression as Katie aww’s beside you. You hear him mumble a quiet ‘shut it’ at George before going back to his potion. You think he’s going to remain silent or try to change the subject, but he surprises you again.
“I knew your stubborn arse wouldn’t take them as often as you should. Someone’s gotta make sure you’re taking care of yourself.” He stares into his potion as he says this, but you see the red on his ears as your smile widens.
“Well, I appreciate the thought, Weasley.” He shrugs, but a pleased smile covers his face. The four of you go through the rest of the class in peace, joking around when Snape wasn’t within earshot. In fact, that’s how the rest of the day went, Fred sitting beside you when he could with Katie and George joining you outside of class. He continued carrying your bag for you and stayed true to his word, going over all the notes he’s taken and duplicated for you during lunch.
The more time you spend with Fred, the more you realize how well the two of you get on. You’ve played on the same quidditch team for years and have certainly talked and spent time together in group settings, but you’ve always been acquaintances, possibly friends in passing. Now, though, you’re getting on and joking together like you’ve been friends for years. It’s comfortable and fun, especially when Katie and George are with you as well. It makes you wonder why you’ve never hung out like this before.
You’re laughing at another one of George’s jokes as the four of you walk down the hallway, your bag slung over Fred’s shoulder as usual. Your arm is linked with Katie’s, the twins flanking your sides as you head to the common room. Class has just ended for the day, and you’ve all agreed to start on your homework together. You suspect it’s more for your benefit than theirs, as they never start their homework so soon, and you’re silently grateful.
Your walk is interrupted, however, when your name is called. Looking behind you, you see your boyfriend, Cole Davis, looking at you expectantly. You pause, the other three stopping with you.
“Oh, hey Cole.” You give him a tight smile as he approaches you, a frown on his face.
“Hey, are you ok? I heard about what happened during the match. You’re not hurt, are you?” Your smile wavers a bit.
“Oh… You weren’t at the match? I thought you’d be there.” His grip tightens on his bag, but he gives an easy smile.
“No, I’m sorry. I would have loved to be there, you know that, but I got caught up in work.” You nod, sticking your hands in the pockets of your robes.
“Well, you missed one hell of a match.” You gesture back at Fred. “Weasley here gave me a vicious whack on the head during some legendary save. It was absolutely brilliant, though I wouldn’t know.” You give him a joking glare and he steps up behind you, wrapping an arm over your shoulder and squeezing.
“Aw come one, O'Kelley, you felt the force of my swing, surely you should know first-hand just how brilliant it was.” You laugh at his joke and pinch him in the side as he dances away from you. You eventually look back to Cole to see him frowning in Fred’s direction before looking back at you, expression carefully even.
“You got hit in the head?” You shrug and nod gently, careful not to move too fast.
“Yeah. Have a nasty concussion. Spent the weekend in hospital. Fred’s been helping me out, though, so… it’s not so bad.” He gives a nod. It’s silent for a moment and you try to think of something to say. He beats you to it.
“No one told me. I would have visited…” You give him a small smile and nod. You’re not too hurt by his lack of an appearance. “Well, I was busy anyway, so I guess it’s fine. Anyway, do you wanna go hang out or something? We can walk down by the lake if you want.” His invitation is awkward and your rejection is just as bad.
“Oh… Sorry, Cole, I would love to, but we were actually heading back to the common room. I need to get a head start on my assignments. You know, because of the concussion and all.” Cole frowns but nods in understanding.
“Yeah… yeah, ok. Well, I’ll see you later, then. Maybe at dinner..?” You nod and give him a smile.
“Yeah… maybe.” With one last nod he turns and walks back down the hallway. You wince a bit, but turn around to face the group waiting for you. Fred has his eyebrows raised, George looks like he’s struggling not to laugh, and Katie just looks tired.
Rolling her eyes, Katie turns back around and says to the twins, “Welcome to the past month of my life.” George finally lets his laugh out and Fred snorts a bit as well. You lightly glare at the two of them before walking back and shoving them forward. They trail after you as you continue walking, but not without the teasing.
“So, that was the boyfriend, then? Bit awkward, wasn’t it?” You nudge Fred’s side with your elbow.
“He’s just shy in front of other people. He’s nice, ok?” George stops laughing for a moment to chime in.
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s plenty nice, O'Kelley. Doesn’t mean he isn’t a painfully awkward bloke.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you turn the corner, deciding not to voice your agreement. It’s pointless to deny it, too. Everyone here witnessed your interaction. Thinking back on it, you can’t help but wince again. He’s awkward at best, sure, but he’s never been anything but sweet and there’s nothing wrong with that.
“Well, speaking of awkward, I heard Justin Finch-Fletchley asked out Penelope Clearwater in the middle of the great hall and got horribly rejected. Poor guy…” You tune out Katie’s change in subject, sending her a silent thank you. It seems to entertain George enough that he becomes well distracted, but you can still feel Fred’s eyes on the side of your head.
When you look at him, eyebrow raised in question, he just gives you a smile and half-shrug. You look back forward, ready to let it go, when he suddenly comes up right behind you.
Leaning down close to your ear, he whispers, “I’m surprised, O'Kelley. Is that the type of bloke you go for?”Smiling a bit, you shove your elbow back into him, satisfied by his grunt. He backs away a bit, going back to his normal stride next to you. You smirk up at him.
“Why do you wanna know, Weasley?” He shrugs, grinning back down at you.
“For future reference, of course. Once this bloke decides you’re too big and bad for him, I’ve got to know what type of guy to find for you.” He gives you a wink before the two of you start laughing, getting a glare from Katie for interrupting her story.
“You two aren’t even listening, are you?” You loop your arm through hers and give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Of course not, Katie.” She shoves her shoulder into you as you continue laughing until you finally reach the Fat Lady’s portrait. After giving the password she swings open and the four of you step in, quickly claiming one of the larger tables in the corner. Katie sits to your right and Fred to your left as you dig through your bag, pulling out the pieces of parchment Fred had given you throughout the day.
The four of you begin working in silence, the other three starting on an essay due for potions. You frown, instead trying to just catch up on the notes. You start with the other classes and slowly make your way through them, having to quint a bit as your head begins to ache. Once you’ve made it through charms and arithmancy you decide to take a break, resting your forehead against the table. You feel a poke to the back of your head and a snort of laughter.
“You alright there, love?” You look up at Katie and give her a wobbly smile.
“Oh, just brilliant. I’m really loving this god damn bloody pounding in my head, it’s like having a small party all to myself.” She lets out a bewildered laugh, George joining her. They go silent, however, when Fred’s now familiar hand goes to the back of your neck, once again massaging the juncture between your neck and shoulders. You sigh and lean into his touch, amazed by how quickly it’s making you feel better.
You hear someone clear their throat and imagine the other three are having a silent conversation right now, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Instead, you allow yourself to rest for a few minutes before turning your head so your cheek rests against the table instead. Smiling up to Fred, you mouth a silent ‘thank you.’ He just smiles back, letting his hand fall to the back of your chair as you sit up, stretching your back.
You shuffle your parchment around, finally getting to the potions notes. As you go through them, you notice just how detailed they are, as though Fred took extra care to make sure he included everything as clearly as possible. You direct a soft smile down at your parchment at his care.
When you finish going through the notes, you notice Fred looking over your shoulder, arm still on the back of your chair. He meets your gaze and gives a smile.
“Ready to start on that essay, then?” You sigh but nod, pulling out a blank piece of parchment. Looking around the table, you see everyone else already three-quarters of the way through their own, George and Katie sharing a textbook as they add more details. You frown. Looks like you’ll be working a bit longer than them.
Gripping your quill, you start off your essay with some rubbish introductory sentence before translating Fred’s notes into full, much too wordy sentences in an attempt to stretch it out. You do this for about fifteen minutes, getting a decent first bit done when Katie rolls up her parchment and shoves it in her bag. Looking up at her, you give her a wide eyed stare as she smiles happily.
“I’ve got to say, you might be onto something with starting your homework early. I’m finished and it’s not even due until the end of the week.” You frown, but continue giving her what she calls your puppy dog look. She glances down at you and you’re ready for her sympathy to take over, but her grin just widens.
“Nope, O'Kelley, that won’t work on me today. I know you’re injured and all, but I’ve got things to do.” You huff and turn back to your parchment.
“Oh, come on. I’ll bring you back a snack, yeah? Will that make you happy?” You mumbles a grudging agreement and she nods before taking off. You watch her go with a frown before trying to concentrate on your essay once more. Usually, if you really concentrate, you would be halfway done by now. Frowning at your measly three inches of words, you know it will take much longer than it usually does. You didn’t think a concussion would slow you down this much, so you’re glad Fred insisted on starting early. If you started this on Thursday, you’d never finish in time.
George follows Katie’s lead not long after, rolling up his parchment and heading off with a wave and a promise to see you at dinner. You try to hide your disappointment at everyone leaving, giving him a wry smile instead. Sighing, you maneuver your feet up onto your chair, hugging your knees. You look over at Fred and frown in confusion. He seems to be done with his essay, and yet he was still sitting there, going through his arithmancy notes.
“You’re not leaving too? I thought you’d be going with George.” He looks up at you and gives you a small smile, not joking or enthusiastic, just content.
“Do you want me to?” You think for a moment, biting your lip. He’s been so kind to you all day, taking extra care with his notes, carrying your bag, and being incredibly patient with your headaches and constant need of breaks. Looking up at him, though, you see no frustration or displeasure on his face. There are no signs of him wanting to leave.
You don’t want to be selfish; you want him to feel as though he can leave whenever he wants, because he can and should. Averting your eyes, though, something makes you shake your head. You hear him chuckle lightly.
“Then I won’t go. I’ll be here until you’re done for the day. Alright?” You contemplate his words for a moment, feeling embarrassingly pleased with his decision. You wouldn’t try and stop him if he wanted to go, but you can’t understand why he’d rather stay here and watch you finish your essay.
“Are you sure?” You ask. “I’m sure watching me write my essay will be terribly boring. You shouldn’t feel obligated to stay.” He leans back in his chair, arms crossing.
“Do I seem like the kind of guy to stay if he really doesn’t want to?” You shake your head again, a small smile appearing on your face. As he notices this, his own grows wider.
“Right, then. Where are you in your essay? I found something else in that book of George’s that you can add. It takes up a whole two inches if you connect it to the reaction of the ingredients.”
For the next half hour the two of you go through your essay, you with slight frustration and Fred with never ending patience. By the time you declare that you’re done for the day, head swimming too much to continue reading or writing, you’re incredibly grateful for his help. You can’t imagine how your day would have gone without his help, and you tell him exactly that.
He flips his hair dramatically as he begins packing away his belongings. “Like I said, O'Kelley, I’m just a gentleman doing his duty.” You laugh and pick up your own bag, dragging it over to the couches by the fireplace. Dropping it on the floor, you sigh and gently flop down onto the couch, leaning against the armrest with your legs curled up so you only take up half the couch. After a moment, Fred follows and sits down on the other end. You raise your eyebrows.
“You’re not sick of me yet, Weasley? Don’t feel as though you have to spend all your time with me. You’ve already been a tremendous help, I don’t want to take up any more of your time.” He nudges your legs with his thigh, smiling as he rests his arm on the back of the couch.
“I could never be bored of you, O'Kelley. Like I said, I’m not the kind of person to do things he doesn’t want to. You should know this by now, surely.” You laugh, thinking of all the pranks he’s pulled with George and all the detentions he’s received for his antics.
“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” You focus on the couch beneath you, picking at a stray bit of threat poking up. “It’s awfully boring not being able to do anything with this bloody concussion. No quidditch, no reading, no running around. I’m not sure what to do with myself.”
“Hmm.” Fred thinks for a moment, seeming to contemplate something serious as he responds. “Let’s see… I didn’t hear Madam Pomfrey say anything about not hunting for trolls in the forbidden forest, did you?” He looks down at you with a serious look and you can’t help the laughter spilling out of you.
“No, I don’t believe I did. How would one go about hunting for trolls, anyway?” He leans in a bit, grinning madly.
“Well,” he says. “That’s just the thing we need to figure out.” For the next hour or so until dinner, the two of you talk and joke and laugh about hunting trolls, then the forbidden forest and then Hagrid and his possible love life - would he get along well with Trelawny, do you think? - and a dozen other ridiculous subjects. It isn’t until Alicia and Angelina come down from the dorm, asking if you’ll be walking with them to dinner, that you realize how long you’ve been talking on the couch with Fred.
You nod, allowing Fred to help pull you up as you follow behind them, listening to your three friends hope that there’s more of that rice pudding for dessert. The easy conversation continues throughout dinner when George, Lee Jordan, and Katie join you. It’s a lovely meal, one of the best you’ve had in a while, both from the food and the company. It’s so lovely, in fact, that you don’t even notice Cole Davis leave early.
Across from you, however, Fred happens to notice as he glances up briefly from his pile of mashed potatoes. His eyebrows furrow as he watches Davis sneak out, and he nudges George, nodding over towards the great hall doors. George sees Davis as well before frowning and turning to Fred. You notice the quiet concern on their faces and raise your eyebrows.
“Something wrong?” They both give you easy smiles, shaking their heads.
“Nah, nothing,” George says.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You stare at them for a moment before shrugging it off and turning back to Alicia’s story from divination today. You miss the look the twins give one another. It could very well be nothing. They certainly hope it’s nothing, deciding to pass it off for now and shift their attention back on their food and friends instead.
**********
Two more weeks pass and your daily routine has changed drastically. Fred managed to worm his way into nearly every part of your day, from breakfast to sitting in the common room after dinner. During meals, he’s right beside you. When you have class, he carries your bag and books. When you grow tired or your head hurts, he wraps an arm around your shoulder casually, though you know it’s so he can support your weight and make it easier for you. When there’s quidditch practice, he flies you up to the stands to avoid the stairs and you watch Oliver run the team through drills. After, you wait for Fred to finish cleaning up before you walk back up to the castle.
George and Katie often accompany the two of you on your walks about the castle, to and from class and quidditch, but there are certain times it’s just the two of you. The two of you usually finish dinner early in order to get back to the common room before it becomes crowded in order to snag the good couch by the fireplace. After a while the others join you, but they usually drift off to their own conversations while you and Fred continue your endless back and forth.
By the end of the night the four of you are once more in a group, Katie by your side and George by Fred’s, but over the past three weeks a bond has formed between the two of you. Even when separate, you always feel his presence and he seems to be attuned to yours. You share looks and silent jokes that no one else sees, ones that are just for you. It all feels strange compared to what your daily life was like before this concussion, but eventually it just starts feeling natural and almost… special.
Stress in the form of your boyfriend has also risen, though. The more time to spend with Fred and George - mainly Fred, of course - the less time you spend with Cole. You try to spend the weekends with him and occasionally study in the library together, but it’s become clear that it’s not enough for him. Every time you turn down his offer of spending time together, you see the frustration on his face and the sharp look he directs at Weasley.
Before long, Cole starts asking questions: “Why is Weasley always with you?”; “What do you do together?”; “You’ve surely run out of things to say to him by now, haven’t you?”; “You don’t… fancy him, do you?”
The last question was followed by a quick and solid, “No!” from your end, but it threw you for a loop. Do you fancy Weasley? The thought seems ridiculous at first. He’s silly and distracted and is only helping you because he gave you a concussion. You wave off the question when Cole asks you abruptly in the library. You were studying together again, you working on a potions essay and he on one for herbology.
“Don’t be daft, Cole. Of course I don’t. I’ve you, don’t I?” You send him a smile and a wink and that seems to please him enough. Later, you find a quiet corner of the castle to snog in for a bit and he seems to have forgotten his insecurities completely.
Later, though, during a rare moment of peace in the common room in which you settle in an armchair alone, you find yourself unable to think of anything else. You don’t… fancy him, do you? You snort and shake your head. No, surely not, you’re confident in your lack of attraction.
And yet… you let yourself ponder over the last few weeks, and the time you fell asleep in the common room so he carried you up to your bed; last weekend when Pomfrey said you shouldn’t go to Hogsmeade and insisted your friends go without. Fred came back an hour later, a smile on his face and a bag full of chocolate for the two of you to share as you wandered around the school instead.
You even blush at the memory of you growing dizzy and tripping down the stairs, sure you’d be moving on to concussion number two. Instead, you felt his arms wrap around you, awkwardly keeping you from tumbling down. You gripped his wool-covered arms as he yanked you back up, pressing you close to his chest as he breathed out a sigh of relief. Eyes wide, you glanced up at him as he gave you a shaky smile and a wink. The two of you had smiled at each other for a moment before you began laughing, hugging him tight as he squeezed you back. Leaning down to your ear, he whispered, “Careful there, love. You’re lucky I’m here to always catch you.”
You had laughed it off at the time, but your stomach flipped at the meaning of his words and the soft look he gave as you pulled away from him. You can’t deny that you felt your cheeks heat up, and there’s no point in trying to ignore the near constant flips of your stomach when he smiles or laughs or is simply next to you.
You frown, sinking deeper into the armchair. This is… a bit of a problem, you decide. Fancying the boy who’s helping you because of your concussion while you have a boyfriend is decidedly very problematic, especially when you’re unsure if said boy feels the same way.
Trying to logic through this problem of yours, you hide your head in your hands and try to think. Your current boyfriend is (a) fantastic at snogging, but (b) you don’t connect with him on any level. The boy you fancy, Fred, is (a) a potential risk if you were to go after anything, but (b) you connect with him like no one else.
Sighing, you let your hands sag down your face in frustration. Your hands rest on your cheeks for a few seconds as you stare into the fire before you shrug and let them fall to your lap instead. From what you can see, there’s no point in breaking up with Cole now. You get the bonuses that come with having a boyfriend, and you can guarantee Fred in your life with no possibility of making it uncomfortable if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings. Until something changes, there’s no point in doing anything else, you suppose.
**********
Fred and George Weasley are walking down the nearly empty hall, turning a corner down what they assume is an equally empty hall, when they come across a scene that takes them about six seconds to process. George is the first to understand what’s going, gripping the sleeve of Fred’s jumper. Whether this was to steady himself or his brother, Fred is unsure. It only takes a second longer for Fred to reach George’s level of clarity.
There, in the midst of the hallway, is Cole Davis snogging who looks to be Maisy Reynolds. The distracted couple have not yet noticed the twins staring at them in shock and horror, and suddenly Fred has no idea what to do. He feels incredibly uncomfortable having walked in on such a scene, but the longer he stares the more anger builds up in his chest. It becomes to the point where he feels as though he is made completely of anger and though he still doesn’t know what he intends on doing, he knows he wants to get closer to Cole Davis and he wants his fist to be the first point of contact.
George, noticing this as always, strengthens his grip on Fred’s jumper. “Fred,” he whispers out of the side of his mouth in a tone he hopes is harsh enough to gain his brother’s attention. His mission fails, apparently, as Fred rips his arm out of George’s grip and begins storming forward toward the couple. By the time George thinks to stop him, it’s too late.
Crunch. George wincers at the sound of Davis’ nose as Fred pulls him back and lands a solid punch. Maisy, to her credit, doesn’t make much of a scene, instead slapping a hand over her mouth as she watches in horrified surprise. Fred pays her no attention.
“You son of a bitch! You gormless, manky twat, what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Davis stumbled back at the force of Fred’s fist, and now he’s taking a few steps further at his fury. His initial expression was one of surprise, then pain and confusion leading into fear, and finally anger.
“What the fuck, mate? You broke my bloody nose.” Davis was still clutching it in an attempt to ward off pain or catch the bleeding, George isn’t sure which. Either way it’s a pointless battle, he thinks, watching the blood drip onto the stone floor. Inching forward, he grabs Maisy’s arm and gently pulls her away from the scuffle before nudging her down the hallway.
“No need to tell anyone about this, eh Reynolds?” George gives her a wink and she responds with a shaky nod before turning and running down the hallway. Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair before turning back to his berk of a brother and the even bigger berk of a cheater.
“She trusts you, Davis, and you go and cheat on her? What is actually wrong with you?” Davis glares fiercely back.
“Oh, I’m the problem? Sure, I kissed another girl, but at least I’m not spending all my time with another man! It’s always ‘Weasley this’ and ‘Weasley that’ with her now. Don’t even try denying that the two of you are cozying up in that damned common room of yours. Bet you can’t keep your dirty hands off of her, Weasley.” Fred surges forward again, but George takes action this time, wrapping his arms around his brother in an attempt to hold him back. Luckily it works.
“What, us becoming friends is an excuse for you to go and cheat on her?” He scoffs, looking at Davis with the most hateful look George has ever seen on his brother. He never knew Fred could be so intimidating. One glance at Davis and he knows that he’s feeling it too. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a man, Davis. Nothing is or was going on between O'Kelley and me. She would never do anything as selfish as this, you git.”
Davis just frowns and scoffs. “It doesn’t matter anyway. She’s not going to find out and the two of us will continue on as we were. I’d never want to waste an opportunity with a girl who puts out like she does.” There’s a vile smirk on Davis’ face and George begins struggling with holding Fred back.
“Like hell she won’t find out. Do you think you can get me to keep this a secret? Fuck you.” Davis smirks and Fred looks as though he wants to spit on him. If George allowed him to get close enough then he’d surely take the opportunity.
“Oh, sure, go ahead and tell her,” Cole says, already backing away from the twins. George, though he had been going back and forth between looking concerningly at his brother and glaring at the bastard, gives him a suspicious look. “I’d bet ten galleons she won’t even believe you. I’m her sweet, doting boyfriend and you’re the boy who gave her a concussion and follows her around like a lost puppy. She’d never believe you over me - she not completely stupid.”
Before Fred has a chance to say anything in return, Davis gives one last wave to the Weasley twins before turning away and disappearing down another corridor. Fred sags in his arms, and so George slowly releases his grip, clapping a hand on Fred’s shoulder.
“George, mate, don’t listen to him, alright? He’s a right twat who’s going to get what he deserves. Besides,” George says, giving his brother a meaningful look, “I was here too. I’ll be there to back you up. She’ll have to believe both of us.”
Fred just stares at nothing, not seeming to absorb George’s words. He sighs, about to shake Fred or drag him down the hallway, when his brother suddenly snaps his head up and spins around before tearing down the hallway.
“Woah, hey, wait! Where are you going?” George calls out.
Without turning around, Fred calls back, “I’ve got to tell her!” George sighs and shakes his head.
“You can’t wait five minutes and walk there instead?” George mutters to himself. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he starts the walk to the common room, taking his time, figuring Fred might want to do the first bit alone. Smiling, George shakes his head. His brother never was too subtle when he fancied a girl, and clearly this time is no different.
**********
You’re not a superstitious person, but you also are a witch learning magic in a castle, so you’re not one to flat out deny any strange coincidences. This holds true as you hear the portrait door open and you look over, watching as an out of breath Fred enters. His face is pale, his expression serious and concerned. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look as troubled as he looks now.
When he spots you, he looks away for a moment before taking what looks like a deep breath and walking over to you. You straighten up in your chair as he approaches you, expecting him to sit across the table from you on the couch, or perhaps the other armchair a few feet away from your own. Instead, he pulls the coffee table closer to your chair before sitting on it, facing you. He has yet to look at you, and you’re beginning to feel quite nervous, especially after the conversation you just held in your head. You know he couldn’t have heard it, but you still feel the paranoia creep in.
Giving a weak smile, you say, “Hey, Weasley. How, uh… how’re you doing?” He gives a blank stare that lands somewhere around your knees. Sighing a bit, you lean back in your chair and allow him to stare until he’s ready to talk. Soon enough he lifts his head, looking up at you with a nervous look on his face. Your eyebrows crinkle in concern.
“Weasley, are you ok?” When he finally makes eye contact, it’s more intense than you're expecting. He quickly reaches out for your hands, gripping them in his own. He swallows before speaking, stuttering out your name. Your eyebrows raise in surprise. He’s never called you by your first name before.
“Do you trust me? I know I’ve never really given you an explicit reason to, but-” You cut him off, gripping his hands.
“Bollocks. If I don’t trust you now after the past three weeks, then I’d be mad or the most untrusting person in the world, of which I am neither. Of course I trust you, Weasley. Don’t be daft. Now will you tell me what’s wrong?”
Biting his lips, he searches your face for something you secretly hope is there, and when he seems to find it he sighs. Still holding your hands, he leans his elbows on his knees and lowers his head.
“O'Kelley, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to see it, and I almost wish it never happened, but I’m also glad I saw it because otherwise you’d probably never know, and-” You squeeze his hands, leaning forward.
“Weasley, get to the point please.” He shifts uncomfortably on the table across from you and you raise a brow. After sighing, he begins to speak.
“George and I… we were walking through the halls and when we turned a corner, it was- well, we saw him… I don’t know what- I mean, I don’t really know how to say this without just saying it.” You frown in confusion.
“Ok, well why don’t you just say it then? Won’t that be easier?” He looks up at you, gazing into your eyes for a bit longer than what you’d consider normal before he opens his mouth.
“I saw Davis snogging another girl in the halls.” You freeze, keeping your expression carefully blank. It takes a moment for you to process what he said, and when you do, you feel numb.
“What?” You say lightly, voice airy and high in disbelief. You try to focus on something, particularly your haywire emotions, but your mind can’t seem to stay in one place for more than a second. Fred’s hands squeeze your own.
“I, uh… I saw Davis with Maisy Reynolds in the hall. I’m really sorry.” His thumbs begin stroking the back of your hands and your eyes fix on the movement as you try to think through what he just said. Cole… and Maisy… snogging. Cole disappearing. Cole being distant. Cole suddenly not caring so much about snogging or spending time with you or-
Your head snaps up and your face flushes in humiliation and anger. It takes you a moment to realize Fred’s still speaking.
“-know you probably don’t believe me, but I wouldn’t lie about this, I swear it. I would never lie to you O'Kelley, and all I’m asking is that even if you don’t believe me, please don’t hate me. Just- Just ask Davis about it at the very least, the smug bastard was sure he’d get away with it even with a broken nose and shit, O'Kelley, I’m so sorry-”
“Hey,” you say, removing a hand from his grasp. His expression turns into one of panic until you cover his still moving mouth with your hand and lean in closer to him. “Weasley, please shut up.” His eyes are wide as he nods, swallowing. You try not to track the movement of his throat as he swallows, but you can’t seem to help yourself. Luckily he doesn’t notice. You look back at his eyes and see them searching your face. You frown.
“Why wouldn’t I believe you? And why do you think I’d hate you?” You crack a weak smile. “Merlin, Weasley, I don’t think I could ever hate you, and certainly not over something like this.” You look at him for a moment longer, waiting for a response. It’s not until you feel his mouth open against your palm that you remember your hand is still covering his mouth. Jerking it back, you flush a bit and nod for him to continue. He once more grabs your hand in his.
“I just… He said you’d never believe me over him. And, well, I guess I thought he was right. I mean, you’ve been dating for a bit and I’m just… Well, I’m the clown who gave you a concussion. It’s not like I…” He trails off and you frown, eyes narrowing.
“It’s not like you what?” He just stares up at you and doesn’t respond. His silence is answer enough. You yank his hands off of his lap and into your own, leaning in close as you narrow your eyes at him.
“Fred Weasley, you have been nothing but exceptionally kind and loyal to me this past month. You have been a better friend in one week than Davis has been a boyfriend in the full two months of us dating. He appeared sweet and kind, yes, but you, Fred… you’re everything. If you say he cheated on me, then he cheated on me. I’d be a damn fool not to trust you.”
You can’t help but feel slightly ridiculous as you finish your mini speech, but you remain confident in what you said. In two months of dating, Cole never became anything special to you. He was your boyfriend, yes, but all that really entailed was studying, awkward walks, and occasional snogging. Fred though? Fred and you got on better than you could have ever imagined and no matter how much time you spend together, you never seem to grow sick of him. It was incredibly, really.
Looking down at Fred’s expression of astonishment, though, you can’t help but feel nervous. Is what you said too much? You squirm in your seat and look down at you lap, fidgeting with his fingers. Finally, he speaks up.
“You…” he mumbles. “Fred…” You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Um, no, you’re Fred actually.” His eyebrows scrunch together in confusion for a moment before his face opens and he’s laughing. You hesitate, unsure what’s going on, but you start chuckling along with him. When he settles down again, he looks up at you with what you’re sure is the most adoring look anyone has ever given you.
“No, I know, it’s just… you called me Fred.” You give a crooked smile.
“Well, that is your name.” He rolls his eyes, his smile only widening.
“Yes, but that’s the first time you’ve ever called me Fred. You always call me Weasley. It’s just… it’s nice is all.” You give him a soft smile and suddenly stand, pulling him up with you. He looks down at you in confusion, but you just drag him over to one of the empty couches and sit, pulling him down with you.
“Well, uh…” he says, looking around the couch. You say nothing, just leaning down and placing your head on his lap. He startles a bit, but adjusts so he’s more comfortable.
“Play with my hair,” you say before adding a quick, “please.” He chuckles but does as he’s told, digging his fingers into your hair, lightly scratching your scalp as he runs his hand through your hair, his other resting on your stomach still held between both your hands.
After a moment of silence, he speaks. “So, what about Davis? What are you going to do?” You close your eyes and he continues playing with his hair.
“Break up with him, of course. Preferably by humiliating him in the Great Hall.” You peek one eye open. “And don’t think I didn’t notice what you said about him having a broken nose. That doesn’t have anything to do with you, does it?” He flushes and can’t seem to meet your eyes for a moment. Shaking his head, he changes the subject.
“That’s good and all, but… I mean, are you ok? You just found out your boyfriend cheated on you and probably has been for a bit. You’re weirdly calm about it all.” You sigh and shrug, closing your eyes again.
“I mean I’m definitely angry and a bit embarrassed, but if I’m being honest, I don’t feel like I’ve lost anything but stress. I was planning on breaking up with him soon anyway, so I really can’t bring myself to feel too upset about it ending.” You pause for a moment. “I’m definitely upset about the cheating, though. That bastard better enjoy today, because it’s the last day his bits will be attached to the rest of him.”
Fred chuckles, twisting a piece of your hair around his finger. The two of you sit there in silence for a while longer before eventually standing for dinner. You decide not to talk to or even look at Davis tonight. You’re too furious and tired to deal with him now, instead wanting to just lean your head on Katie’s shoulder as she shouts about how much of a twat he is.
The next morning, after a night full of righteous fury and shouting, Katie, Angelina, and Alicia surround you as you walk to the Great Hall for breakfast, Fred and George a few steps in front of you. The two of them head over to the Gryffindor table right away, shooting you winks as they go. Smiling, you link your arms in the girls’ and head the opposite direction towards the Ravenclaw table. Seeing your approach, Cole smiles and stands as he waits for you. As you walk up to him, he begins with, “Hey babe, I didn’t see you last night-”
He is promptly interrupted by a high-pitch mix between a squeal and a screech as you rear your foot back and give him a ruthless kick between the knees. His eyes are already watering as he clutches his bits, slowly falling to the ground in pain. Nearly the entire Great Hall has gone silent in the sudden violence and screaming coming from the two of you, and you do nothing but smile. May the whole school know what a bastard Cole Davis is, you think.
“May you never have children, you cheating bastard,” you say too cheerily with a vicious smile on your face and you turn around and begin walking away. Your friends follow, but not before blowing his raspberries and giving him two fingers. A steady stream of chatter follows your departure followed by a few claps and whistles that slowly grow until the entire Great Hall is filled with the excited chatter of your blow to Davis’ nuts.
Reaching your own table, you take a seat next to Fred as Katie slips in beside you. Across from Fred, George reaches over the table to clap your shoulder, laughing as he does so. “Brilliant, O'Kelley! Absolutely wicked, I say.” You give him a pleased smile and start piling eggs on your toast and Fred nudges your side. You smile, looking up at him out of the corners of your eyes.
“I agree,” he says. “Brilliantly wicked and wickedly brilliant all around, O'Kelley.” You shrug in an attempt to hide the fact that you’re blushing from his praise.
“He got what he deserves, I was simply the messenger.” Your friends all laugh and continue praising your attack, commenting especially on the sheer force of the blow. Fred and George both wince a bit as you describe the swing of your foot and the following crushing of bollocks beneath it. Overall, it’s a lovely breakfast, and that has nothing to do with Fred slipping his hand under the table to grab your own, linking your fingers together. Surely it had nothing to do with the secret smile the two of you share, both blushing more than they’d like to admit.
**********
The weeks that follow are even better than the ones that preceded them. Now with Cole gone, you have a significant decrease in stress and increase in free time, not to mention the lack of guilt at spending time with Fred. The two of you never mentioned the casual hand holding during breakfast the day that you broke up with Cole. You also never mentioned any of the other times the two of you found yourselves holding hands, whether under the table at meals and classes or in the common room as you lounge on the couches. You saw the raised eyebrows and looks your friends give you, but for now you ignore them all.
It doesn’t come up until Madam Pomfrey clears you for quidditch a month later, claiming that your concussion is almost entirely healed. You whoop in excitement at the news, rushing out of the hospital wing as soon as she lets you go, grumbling about the noise.
You left for the infirmary early Saturday morning in an attempt to give Fred a break. He’s been helping you carry your things and take notes just as diligently as he was two months ago when he first gave you the concussion. Yesterday you claimed you wanted to sleep in this Saturday as there was no quidditch match or Hogsmeade trip, agreeing that the two of you would go see Madam Pomfrey after lunch.
Now, you smile as you race back to the common room. He’d be upset you went without him, sure, but you hope he’ll be too distracted by the good news to care too much. You grab the stone wall to slow your momentum as you turn the final corner, coming to an unsteady stop in front of the Fat Lady.
“Caput Draconis,” you say with a breathless smile on your face, bouncing around as you wait impatiently for the portrait to swing open. You hop up into the common room as soon as you’re able to fit into the door, ignoring the huffs from the Fat Lady. As you look around, you notice the common room is empty except for Katie and the twins already up and sitting around one of the tables, frowning as they talk to one another.
Speeding over to their table, you make your presence known by slapping your hands on the wooden table between them. The three jump at the noise, giving you started looks that quickly turn into anger, relief, and confusion. Unfortunately for you, it was Fred who held a look of anger, Katie the look of relief, and George the look of confusion. You wince as Fred says your name in a tone that ensures a lecture to come.
“Where the hell have you been? Katie said she woke up and you weren’t in bed. If you were leaving, you should have told me- or, someone. You should have told someone.”
You ignore George’s whisper of “nice save” before crossing your arms and grinning down at him.
“Oh, come now, Freddie, don’t be such a grump! I had good reason for leaving.” His eyes are focusing on your grin now, but his frown remains.
“Not while you’re concussed, you don’t have a good reason.” When he meets your eyes again you just keep grinning, now wiggling your eyebrows at him. His mouth drops open.
“No way, were you cleared?” At your nod, you hear a shout of joy from Katie as Fred leaps up from his seat. “You bugger, you went to Madam Pomfrey without me! Oh-” He cuts himself off as he throws his arms around you and picks you up and a hug. Laughing, you wrap your arms around his neck, breathing in as your nose buries itself in his neck.
Pulling back a bit, you allow yourself to get caught up in the excitement fueled by George and Katie’s respective “congratulations” and “oh my god, finally, you’re back to normal!” You get so caught up, in fact, that you manage to forget where you are and who you’re with as you give Fred a solid kiss.
The kiss doesn’t quite reach his lips, but it’s not exactly on his cheek either. You manage to land your kiss on an undefined spot that encompasses the corner of his mouth, a bit of his chin, and the dimple that forms when he smiles wide enough. No matter where it was placed, however, it’s undeniable that it was in fact a kiss from your face to his.
Mouth still pressed against his skin, you freeze as you realize what you’ve done. Below you, you feel his whole body tense as well as he stops swinging you back and forth in his arms. In fact, all four of you have gone silent, the only noise being the unavoidable mwah sound of you pulling your mouth away. You wince at the sound, but freeze again as your eyes catch Fred’s. His eyes are wide, and you can’t quite read the expression on his face, but you can confidently generalize it as shock.
Feeling your face heat up, you pull back a bit more, trying to look anywhere but at him which is rather difficult considering he’s still holding you up in his arms. Behind you, you hear George clear his throat with a light chuckle and the scraping of chairs as he and then Katie stand.
“Well,” he says, voice full of laughter. “We’ll just leave you too it, then.” You hear two steps of footsteps and one muffled squeal - presumably from Katie - as they walk up the stairs to their dormitories, leaving you and Fred in an empty common room. Neither of you say anything for a moment until you eventually clear your throat, pointing down at the floor with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh! Uh…” Fred gently sets you back down on the floor but keeps his arms wrapped around you. Unsure where to put your own arms, you keep them awkwardly still wrapped around his neck. Glancing down at the floor, you try to ignore the horrible, inescapable tension. After another few moments, Fred gives up on trying.
“You, uh… You kissed me.” You tense up a bit and shrug.
“Yes, I suppose I did. Though it was more cheek than mouth, I will say.” You hear him clear his throat.
“Well, did you- I mean, did you want it to be more cheek? Or did you want it to be, maybe, more… mouth?” You squeeze your eyes shut as you take a deep breath trying to summon all the Gryffindor courage you have. Looking up at him, you give him a steely eyed look of determination, ignoring the sudden look of fear on his face as you grip the collar of his shirt and pull him down, pressing your mouth firmly against his.
There’s no movement, no anything, just your mouth pressed against his until suddenly it isn’t. You’re not sure who pulled back, but you take in a gasp of air as you separate. It’s a lucky thing you did, because next thing you know his mouth is back on yours with no intention of leaving anytime soon. His hands move so he’s gripping your waist, pressing you against him as his mouth moves against yours, head tilted to one side.
It takes you a moment, but soon enough you catch on, tilting your head as well as you allow yourself to be pulled into him. You catch his lips with yours, keeping one hand on the back of his neck and allow the other to rise, carding your fingers through his hair before gripping it tight.
He lets out a sound from the back of his throat as you do so, pulling back for a deep breath before kissing you again, this time with hunger and more force than before. You take it in stride, allowing your mouth to open slightly before biting his lower lip and pulling back a few centimeters. Your eyes flutter open at the same times his do and the two of you share a look before diving back in, mouths eagerly moving against each other.
Eventually he gets tired of leaning down to reach you, and so his hands wrap further around your waist before lifting you and setting you on the table behind him. He pushes your knees open, settling between your thighs as he looks down at you, face flushed and eyes bright. His breathing is just as heavy as your own as he stares down at you.
“So will you-” he’s cut off by you pressing another quick kiss to his mouth, lingering for a moment before pulling back. He’s more dazed than he was a moment ago, but a smile has formed. “Will you go out-” He’s cut off again as you duck down, pressing a wet kiss against his pulse point. A strangled whine comes from his mouth and you chuckle lightly against his skin.
“Bloody hell, O'Kelley. I’m trying to ask you out here, if you’d let me. Then we can get right back to the snogging, I promise.” You pull away and grin up at him.
“Alright then, ask me out, Weasley.” Shaking his head, he grins d0wn at you, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. He whispers your name and you lean into his touch.
“Will you go out with me, then? Now that you’re no longer concussed and there’s no chance of you claiming you said yes due to brain damage.” You laugh and nod your head.
“Yes, Fred, of course I will. I’ve been wanting to for too damn long.” He chuckles and you give him a soft look, appreciating how beautiful he is when he’s smiling. And now he’s all yours. You run a hand through his hair before pulling him back down.
“Now,” you say, “I believe you promise some snogging.” You feel his smile against your own, which makes it quite difficult to kiss him, but then you’re biting his lip again and he makes that noise you’re already so fond of and the smile is gone, replaced by a wonderful feeling of his lips moving against your own.
You lose track of time, eventually, but are swiftly reminded when Katie and George grow bored waiting for you and decide to come back down. The scene they’re greeted with is the same as before, you sitting on the table and him between your legs, faces thoroughly attacked at the mouth. You yank apart as George starts clapping and Katie squeals again before joining in his clapping.
You laugh despite your embarrassment and duck your head into Fred’s chest, trying to avoid looking at them. You feel his chuckle underneath you as his hands move up your back, pulling you into a hug.
“Trust me, love. You better get used to it now, because this is not the last time we’ll be doing this in the common room.” You shiver as he whispers in your ear and you lightly punch his arm, glowering at him. Unfortunately, your glower is ruined by the unstoppable smile on your face, one that is quickly captured by Fred again.
Despite Katie and George’s - and, quite honestly, the rest of the house’s - protests, Fred stays true to his word. That certainly is not the last time you find yourself snogging Fred in the common room, not by a long shot.