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kyber-crystal · 5 months ago

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through the seasons || f.w.

summary: he would love you till the end of time. everyone can see it, and they can only hope that you’ll come to your senses and realize that too.

words: ~6.4k (i went overboard LMFAO)

warnings: light angst, some mentions of death / violence (but dw it's a happy ending)

a/n: first ever hp fic in like, ever LOL so apologies if this seems off in any way. the timeline for this is a lil weird?? but basically the fic starts during the spring of GOF: you’re a year below fred & a year above the golden trio : ) ALSO i highly recommend listening to 'moonlight serenade' by frank sinatra ESP during the parts it's mentioned in. you'll see why :)))) add yourself to my hp taglist here!

spring

Given that springtime was nearly over, it was rather cold outside.

The sky gleamed a bright, cornflower blue, with the May morning breeze hitting your skin. You, Hermione, and Ginny found yourselves huddling together in the stands and tightly clutching each other to keep warm.

Anticipation nipped at your insides like tiny needles. You had spent the past half-hour at breakfast listening to a nervous Ron ramble on about how he hardly knew what he was doing, and seeing an unusually quiet Fred pick at his food. You knew it wasn’t like him to spend almost an entire meal without saying more than a few words.

“You ok?” you mouthed, glancing over at the redhead in concern. “As long as you’re looking at me,” Fred replied, attempting a small smile. He pressed something warm and fuzzy into your hands under the table. “You’re my good luck charm today. Keep this for me during the match.” You nodded, and felt your heart warm as you looked down to see that it was the fuzzy scarf he always wore during Hogsmeade trips or around the castle when it got particularly chilly. His initials had been hand-stitched into one end—undoubtedly Mrs. Weasley’s handiwork. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” “That’s my girl.”

“Look!” Ginny whisper-shouted, ending your momentary flashback. “I think that’s them!”

The Gryffindor team filed out into the stadium to be instantly met with a cacophony of loud cheers and applause. Your throat was already starting to hurt from screaming alongside the seas of blazing red and gold, though the match had yet to begin.

Without even realizing it, you found your eyes scanning the area for a particular ginger-haired Beater, and the tension you didn’t even know you had in your shoulders loosened as soon as you saw him.

“You’re not even playing, yet I’d say you’re as big of a mess as poor Ronald,” Hermione chuckled lightly. “Concerned for someone?”

“Oh shut up,” you muttered, tightening Fred’s scarf around your neck just a bit more. “It’s the last match of the year—I’m just as nervous as everyone else. I need to see someone beat Malfoy’s egotistical arse to a pulp.”

Both her and Ginny snorted at this.

“You’re right…but that’s not who I was referring to,” your best friend reminded you.

You rolled your eyes. “Uh huh.”

“Don’t you think you care a little too much? More than a friend should?”

“No,” you stated flatly. But Hermione knew this was a lie—after all, she had known you for five years now and could tell when you were lying. She watched as you fiddled with the ends of the colorful scarf around your neck—a flash of something caught her eye, and she squinted to see F.W. embroidered in delicate gold.

Of course you were being serious, she chuckled to herself. She decided to not say anything about why you had Fred’s scarf on, and instead joked, “Do you think he or Ron’ll make it without getting a concussion?”

“Now that’s hard to say…” you began, knowing how the two boys were sometimes often quite clumsy. “Fingers are crossed that my Fred will be just fine.”

“Your Fred? What about Ron?” she raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you care about both of them?”

“—Both of them will be just fine,” you quickly corrected yourself. “They’ll be alright.”

“Okay…” she said, unconvinced that your reply wasn’t just a slip of the tongue.

Turning your attention back to the game, you heard Lee Jordan’s classic, enthusiastic voice echo across the grounds. “Welcome to the last Quidditch match of the YEAR! We have quite the game in store today, Gryffindor versus Slytherin…”

Eventually, after the captains shook hands and everyone mounted their brooms, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and released the balls into the air. Loud cheers filled the stadium once again, and all fourteen players shot up into the sky. You were only really focusing on one thing—or person, really. It seemed that you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“—aaand that’s a Bludger to the head from Fred Weasley, ouch, that’s gotta hurt…There goes Katie Bell, making a swift pass over to Johnson…there’s Johnson with the Quaffle! And then, ,there he goes…Fred Weasley does it AGAIN! Malfoy gets a hard Bludger to the back—”

Right then, Fred caught your eye and winked. You sent back a shy wave in response.

Everyone tries their best to ignore the Slytherin section’s jeering taunts and chants of Weasley Is Our King. You didn’t need to look over to know Ron was hardly taking it.

From there on out it was a blur of motion, noise, and loud sounds, and before you knew it, the match was over and done.

“—GRYFFINDOR WINS! WITH WEASLEY’S GAME-WINNING BLOCK AND POTTER’S SHEER SPEED, THEY WIN!” The excitement is clear in Lee’s voice. “GRYFFINDOR WINS THE QUIDDITCH CUP!”

The crowd went wild again as Fred made his downward descent. As soon as the tips of his shoes touched the grass he jumped off and immediately rushed over to you as fast as his feet would take him.

Your head was spinning and you could barely tell what was going on amidst the ground-shaking noise and overall chaos. But there he was in front of you now, sweaty and tired but grinning wildly nonetheless as he brought you into a tight embrace. He started spinning you around and you couldn’t help but join in on his contagious laughter.

“There’s my good luck charm,” he whispered into your ear as he set you down, breath fanning against the skin behind your ear.

Having no words left except pure joy, you shook your head and smiled as you leaned into him, squeezing him back even tighter. “I’m so proud of you.”

Both of you were too busy to notice that your friends around you had stopped congratulating the other players and chattering with one another, their eyes now on you two. Ginny, Harry, and Hermione exchanged a look, and Ron, amidst his nerves and exhaustion, cracked a grin as he watched his older brother and best friend savoring a moment with each other.

Hopefully, they’ll realize it for themselves…he thought. Amidst the chaos of the past year, he knew that all of them—especially the two of you—deserved a bit of peace more than anything.

summer

“Last one there is a rotten egg and has to take the soddy backup broom!” Ginny shouted. You all immediately broke into a sprint at this, scrambling to go outside for yet another round of backyard Quidditch. Harry damn near tripped over his own feet as he and Ron tried pushing over each other to squeeze out the back door. Fred and George were doing the same thing, and you and Hermione used this chance to sneak past them. You silently high-fived each other at this.

“Boys will be boys…” she laughed quietly, linking your arm through hers as you continued walking across the meadow, the grass brushing against the fabric of your trousers. “There’s no catching a break around here.”

Lo and behold, poor Ron was forced to take the backup broom, grumbling the entire time as everyone put their gear on. “I hate you guys. Haven’t I been through enough already?”

Everyone took turns being the score-keeper, and this time it was Hermione (she had also been score-keeper the last two rounds as she was a bit tired, and didn’t really mind). She sat down under the giant apple tree as she chose the teams.

“Harry, George, and Fred!” she called out. “Versus the rest of you.”

“That’s so not fair!” Ron complained. “You have two Beaters and the—”

“—youngest Seeker in a century on one team,” Harry finished his sentence with a cheeky grin.

Ron rolled his eyes. “At least I’m with you, Y/N…I guess…”

“Thanks for the compliment, Ronald,” you said with a slight hint of sarcasm.

It was only a few minutes in the match when Fred found himself distracted. He was supposed to be on guard, but his eyes kept wandering over to you, zipping around on your broom with ease, gliding through the air like a bird. He wondered when he stopped seeing you as just his ‘best friend’ and started seeing you as someone who made his heart beat faster; someone who he desperately wanted to see smile because that’s all he needed to make his entire day.

“Awe, come on, Freddie, get your head back in the game!” you called out to him in a teasing voice as he just barely blocked a flying Bludger hurtling towards his face. “Don’t wanna be slammed into, now do you?”

He shook his head and quickly snapped out of it. “Of course not.”

“Blimey, Fred! You nearly gave yourself another concussion there from ogling at her!” George exclaimed.

“I can’t help but be charming,” you joked, sending Fred a wink. “Enjoy the view while you can!”

It was only mid-morning/barely afternoon by the time you finished the last match, but if anything, your sore muscles told you that it felt like days had passed. Adrenaline was still thrumming in your veins as everyone headed in, laughing at the thrill of flying through the skies without a care in the world.

“Remember that losers have to make lunch!” Harry reminded.

Ginny groaned. “Come on. Way to ruin the vibe.”

You, her, and Ron all let out long sighs before heading straight to the kitchen to whip something up for the six of you. Food bets needed to stop…

After a quick meal of sandwiches, everyone headed back outside to play more rounds of backyard Quidditch. You opted to stay in this time around; the dull ache in your shoulders and lower back telling you you’d had enough for the day. One cold shower and some quiet work helping Mr. Weasley organize his home office later, you slumped onto the sofa.

The remainder of the afternoon and evening went by slowly but peacefully. Eventually, you found yourselves sitting around on the living room floor, playing board games well into the night while the crickets chirped outside. The days were long, and cracking jokes and long talks came much easier than they normally did. Of course, Fred sat next to you the entire time, finding a way to be touching you in one way or another no matter what. Shoulders pressed together closely, fingers tracing patterns into your palms, a hand rubbing your back.

Harry gulps down his mug of butterbeer before launching into a dramatic retelling of when Professor Moody turned Malfoy into a ferret, earning roars of laughter and “That git deserved it” from all around. Fred follows up with the first time him and George tested prototypes of their Puking Pastilles, which ended with a delirious Lee Jordan and Ron’s face turning greener than mandrake leaves (much to Mrs. Weasley’s horror—she sent both twins death glares at this).

You were too busy losing it to notice an arm—Fred’s—snaking around your waist, pulling you into his side. But when you did realize it was him, you didn’t say anything, and just simply relaxed against him. It was second nature to you both; you’ve learned to anticipate him sliding up next to you. And, it was comforting to know that he would always be nearby.

Despite being the last one to go to bed, Fred was the first one awake before dawn had even broken over the horizon. The skies were clear but grey, and the roosters had yet to make a sound.

“Wake up,” you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Whaddayawant,” you groaned, voice groggy. “Listen Ron, it’s too early to play Quidditch, tell Wood that you want to go for a round instead…”

“Hey, it’s only me,” Fred replied. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you got up, being careful not to step on Hermione or Ginny’s hands or arms on the way out the door. He kept a hand pressed against the small of your back the entire way down the creaky staircase.

“Ta-da…” he whispered, the classic Weasley grin spreading across his face. “Take a look at this beauty.”

“A…record player?” your brows furrowed in confusion. “This is what you woke me up at 4 a.m. for?”

“Dad got it at this old Muggle store in central London years ago, he said it was a ‘thrift shop,’” Fred explained as your eyes glanced over the cracked, but beautiful record player on the kitchen table. “D’you reckon it still works, though?”

“We’ll have to see for ourselves,” you shrugged.

He placed the vinyl CD into the player and adjusted the needle, and within seconds a slow Muggle tune began to play.

“Oh, I know this one…Hermione has told me about it before. Frank Sinatra is quite famous in the Muggle musical world.”

“Well, then…may I have this dance?” Fred extended a hand out to you. You shake your head and roll your eyes, but take his hand and allow him to pull you close. His arms wrap around your torso as your hands rest on his shoulders, and you allow yourselves to get carried away by the slow, melodic ballad.

My love, do you know That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming? I bring you, and I sing you A moonlight serenade

Fred gently twirls you around the kitchen before bringing you back in and smoothly catching you by the waist, and you’re surprised at how easy it is for him. You often forgot that he had a knack for dancing—it wasn’t often that you got to see him do so.

“And you were about to be upset at me for waking you up,” he leans in to say.

“You’re forgiven,” you exhale, resting your head against his chest. “But you know I could never be upset with you.”

Long after the song had ended, you still found yourself wrapped in his embrace.

Mrs. Weasley was heading downstairs to start preparing breakfast, but suddenly stopped midway. Her heart warmed as she took in the sight of you and Fred standing in the middle of the kitchen, eyes closed as he hummed a foreign tune, slow dancing without a care in the world.

Deciding not to interrupt, she stands there for a moment, smiling as she watched her boy fall in love with the young woman that she hoped to call her daughter one day.

fall

“—Godric’s sake, I’m so tired of losing,” Ron groaned as you quickly smacked the top of the deck with your wand, dust flying into his face. “I’m never playing this with you again.”

You rolled your eyes as he coughed and dusted himself off. “Okay, no Exploding Snap, then no more sweets from Honeydukes ever again.”

“Fine, I’m playing, I’m playing,” he sighed, rubbing the side of his forehead as the colorful deck of cards reshuffled themselves. “You’re almost as horrible as my brother.”

“Almost as horrible as who—hey, Y/N, is that my jumper?” Fred paused as he approached you and Ron sitting at the coffee table, as Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny watched on.

“Dunno, is it?” you shrugged innocently, tapping your chin. “Hey, Nev, you want a go? I have to finish reading my book for McGonagall’s class.”

Neville nodded, and Ron raised a fist in triumph. “FINALLY! Bring it on, Longbottom.”

You shifted onto the couch so Neville could take your spot, and without another word, Fred sat down right next to you. The deep burgundy color of his Gryffindor sweater only further brought out the color of your eyes, he noticed, which sparkled brightly under the dim lighting.

Fred then shifted to lay his head down in your lap, and you didn’t even do so much as flinch. With your book in one hand, you used the other to start brushing your fingers through his hair. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing until you heard him let out a quiet sigh of contentment.

“Did I ever tell you that you’re absolutely brilliant?” he glanced up at you from where he lay, watching carefully and intently. “Sometimes I’m surprised that you weren’t sorted into Ravenclaw.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Weasley,” you laughed softly as you turned the page.

Right as you were about to turn the page again, he stopped you by lightly tugging your wrist. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“What are you talking about?”

He carefully turned your hand to look at the scratches etched into the back of it. They were beginning to fade, but the occasional shifts in movement would cause them to sting and sometimes crack open.

“When did Umbridge do this to you?” Something unfamiliar flashed in Fred’s eyes, and he seemed angry for the briefest of moments. But the darkened look was quickly replaced with one of concern. “Does it still hurt?”

“No, not at all,” you lied as you set down your book, but he didn’t miss the way you winced slightly as he adjusted your hand to look at it again.

The rest of your friends had scattered elsewhere at this point, the typical noise now having faded into a soft chatter of sorts. Hermione came back with a bowl of yellow liquid, eyeing you worriedly. “Strained and pickled Murtlap tentacles…these should help…”

“Oh…thank you…” You placed your hand into the bowl and immediately exhaled with relief.

“I think I’m going to sleep a little early tonight…I’ll see you two at breakfast? Take it easy, Y/N,” Hermione gave your shoulder a squeeze. You nodded as she gave you one last smile and walked away.

Once the pain had faded into a dull ache, you set the bowl of murtlap on the table and leaned back against the sofa. Fred was now laser-focused on something he was holding, fiddling with it using what looked like a small pair of tweezers. Assuming that it had to do with the joke shop he and George were working on, you paid it no mind, and picked up your copy of Guide to Advanced Transfiguration again.

You were far too absorbed into your book to notice when Fred had slipped whatever that thing was onto your finger. It was cold to the touch but fit snugly.

“D’you like it?”

“What is…” You put your book away and glanced down, about to say something half-sarcastic, but immediately stopped.

It had to have been the most beautiful ring you had seen. Although it was slightly on the thinner side, it glittered brighter than any star you had ever seen. You twisted your hand this way and that as you watched the material catch the light.

“...You know my ring size,” your voice trailed off as you took notice of the hopeful look in Fred’s eyes. “But what is this for? You know we’re—”

“For when the time comes,” he explained simply, raising your scarred right hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss there. His gaze on you remained steady and comforting in the same way that his presence made you feel. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

Tears prickled at the edges of your eyes, and you nodded, feeling a sudden lump form in your throat. You were filled with a warmth that you knew had nothing to do with the blazing fire in front of you. “You know there’s no one else.”

How your best friend could make your chest ache in this way, you had no clue…For some odd reason, you thought, it wasn’t all that difficult to picture a future with him in it.

Not when he was your future. You loved him, no doubt, but when it came to describing your exact relationship all words fell short. You were close friends, but was it in the same way that you and Hermione were friends? Or you and Ginny?

But he’s my best friend, you told yourself. He’s been my best friend for over six years.

But ‘best friends’ don’t make you feel the way that Fred does.

Best friends went beyond just saving you a seat at the Great Hall if you woke up late for breakfast or slept through lunch because of a long nap. They didn’t pull you away on Hogsmeade trips and insist on hanging out with you one-on-one when you could very well just hang out together as one big group with all your friends.

They definitely didn’t fashion you a ring by hand in the middle of one quiet fall night, but he did.

“Earth to Y/N?”

“Hm…what?”

“You okay? You seemed a little spaced out there, love,” Fred raised a brow at you as he sat up, taking your hand in his.

“Just…thinking,” you hummed, letting your head lean against his shoulder. He pulled you into his side at this, tenderly brushing his lips against your forehead.

“About how I’m your favorite person on the planet and that I’m loads funnier than Georgie?”

“As if you’d ever be the only thing on my mind.”

Fred pouted, his bottom lip sticking out. “Ouch. That hurt.”

“I’m kidding,” you glanced up at him, pouting slightly. “You’ll never leave my mind. I’m holding you hostage.”

“And that’s a sentence I’d want to extend for as long as I could,” he responded.

Voldemort's return and the premise of another war loomed overhead. But he found that when your warm hand slipped into his, body leaning in close, and your laughter ringing through the air like shooting stars, it was easy for him to forget. To fall into you and feel as if you're the only thing that mattered in this world because frankly, you were.

winter

There was one big thing to look forward to today: another Hogsmeade outing. The final weekend trip before Christmas was always a little bittersweet, but filled with the most pure joy.

The Great Hall was decked out from ceiling to floor as it always was during the holiday season. Bits of snow delicately floated down from the crystalline ceiling as the classic giant Christmas tree stood tall behind the staff table. You stopped every few seconds to admire the decorations despite having been here for nearly seven years now and seeing (and even having helped one time) the grandiose setup.

Excited chatter filled every table as you went over to the Gryffindor table to sit with your friends. Ron was already piling his plate with food, grinning excitedly as he did so.

“Where’s Fred?” you asked as you sat down next to George.

“Already missing your lover boy?” the younger twin teased. “He’ll be down in a sec. The lazy arse overslept so Lee went to drag him down here.”

“Oh, okay…” You paused for a moment. “Wait, he’s not my—”

You felt someone squeeze your shoulder behind you before pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, stopping you from finishing your sentence.

“Morning, my love,” Fred greeted casually as he slid into the spot next to you, seemingly oblivious to the stares he got from his gesture. “You sleep okay?”

“Merlin’s beard, Fred, when are ‘ou going ‘o admid it?” Ron groaned, in the middle of chewing his third drumstick.

“Yeah, when?” Ginny echoed. “I’m going to hex you if you don’t.”

“Tell me what?” you tilted your head to the side as you glanced between them.

“Oh, uh, nothing!” she said quickly.

“Nothing!” Fred grinned sheepishly. Ginny sharply jabbed an elbow into his side. “OW!”

You rolled your eyes, deciding not to question the odd exchange.

Fred placed a soft hand on your thigh, using his other to swipe a croissant from your plate.

“Hey!”

“You know you love me,” he teased.

“Shut up,” you muttered, feeling your face burn, a smile crept up on your face nonetheless. You continued eating, his hand remaining in place, and pretended like you didn’t mind what he was doing.

You exited Hogwarts to flurries of snow blowing around, adjusting your hat and (Fred’s) scarf accordingly to protect your face from the biting winds. Hogsmeade was relatively quiet today, so you took every second you had to relish in the peace.

“Godric, you’re freezing,” Fred’s bright smile turned into a slight frown when he noticed you were shivering, rubbing your gloved hands together. “Here.”

He shook off his coat and handed it to you, helping you put it on by holding the sleeves out. You let out an involuntary sigh of relief once the warmth enveloped your body.

“T-thanks, but aren’t you gonna get c—”

“Trust me, I’ll be alright,” he assured you, squeezing your hands. “Don’t want to get sick before Christmas, right?”

You managed a nod, and he casually slung an arm across your shoulders. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” he grinned. “Now come on, I think we have some drinks waiting for us.”

As always, he had pulled you away from your friend group to “spend extra special time with the coolest and funniest girl in the world” and though you rolled your eyes at this, you allowed him to take the lead. (You weren’t complaining.)

Maybe it was the snow, maybe it was the added heat from Fred’s jacket, or maybe it was something else, but you were in an unusually good mood today. Fred noticed how you smiled more than usual, eagerly tugging his hand as you pulled him from shop to shop.

“Y/N…you’ll drain my pockets,” he groaned as you stopped in front of Honeyduke’s, positively beaming. “And you’ll rot my teeth.”

“Please…?” you begged. “I’ll die if I don’t get a bag.”

“Y/N, love, come on…” But seeing the blissful and innocent twinkle in your eyes made it damn near impossible for him to say no. “Alright, fine. Pick out what you want, it’s on me.”

“You’re the best!” you squeezed his arm before heading into the shop together, hand in hand. “This is why I love you.”

“Ow? Placing my worth based on how many sweet treats I am willing to bestow upon you?” Fred feigned offense at your statement. “But it’s okay. I love you too.”

Half an hour later, you were walking out of the sweet shop with a bag filled to the brim, and Fred was magically several Galleons lighter.

The two of you were only a three-minute walk from the castle grounds when the wind started to pick up. What was once a light snowy drizzle had suddenly turn into a full-blown blizzard, obscuring your vision for meters.

“I can’t even—I can’t see a thing!” you yelled over the whipping winds, trying to shield your face. “Fred, where are you?”

“Right behind you,” he murmured, circling an arm around your middle. “Don’t worry.”

But then, you felt something cold and icy slip down your jumper.

“Fred Weasley!” you yelled as he ran away, laughing with another clump of snow in hand. “You get back here right this instant before I kick your arse—”

You lunged forward and went sprinting after him, well, as fast as you could through the thick blankets of snow. Fred’s laugh echoed through the frigid air as you rolled up a giant snowball and chucked it at him. It hit him square in the back and he nearly fell from the impact.

The blizzard added an extra layer of difficulty, but you were determined to win by sheer talent and not take the easy way out with magic.

Your arms began to ache from forming and throwing snowball after snowball, and you were sure that you’d be getting bruises all over your body (especially from one particularly hard hit between your shoulder blades when you’d been distracted). But seeing Fred so blissfully happy made it worth it—for a split second, you could pretend you were both thirteen again, no worries in the world except for beating each other in Quidditch.

“Okay, this is so over!” you shouted as you chased him over a small hill and finally jumped on his back to tackle him, causing him to fall face first into the snow.

“You absolute—” he began, voice muffled. “Ow.”

He fell silent for a few seconds and stopped moving, causing you to worry. “Freddie, you alright? Fred!”

After you panicked for a few more seconds, Fred finally flipped over, clutching his stomach as he laughed at you. “You actually thought I was hurt?”

“It’s not funny!” you exclaimed in a high-pitched tone. Your face flushed as you realized you practically sitting on him and awkwardly shifted off, opting to kneel by his side as he sat up. “What if you actually were? I’d like to be the one that heals you, not hurts you, thank you very much!”

He smirked. “Aw, so you were worried about me. You care, don’t you?”

“Shut it, I do not,” you scoffed.

His eyes trailed down your ring, which still shone so brightly, as you absentmindedly fiddled with it.

“...I think you’re missing a little something, don’t you think? Or maybe it’s me that is,” he said so quietly that you almost missed what he’d said. “A diamond, perhaps….”

“A diamond?” your voice came out in the tiniest of whispers as well. “I think you’d look alright in a little silver…”

Fred then cupped your face in his hands, which forced you to look back up at him. He gently grazed his thumbs over your cheekbones and there was now what seemed like a look of longing in his bright hazel eyes. He’d always gazed at you admiringly but that was because he was your best friend, you told yourself (a lie that, time and time again, you’d try and fail over the years to convince yourself of). Best friends loved and cared for each other, that’s what they’re supposed to do.

But here he was, making you feel things that a friend normally didn’t. And you didn’t even try to push him away because you didn’t want him to leave; you never wanted him to.

He finally closed the ever-decreasing gap between you two and kissed you, capturing your lips in his. You buried a hand in his messy hair and pulled him closer; as close as you possibly could, desperate for the way he made you feel so alive because he was the one thing keeping you anchored to the ground.

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, he says over and over. You swore you’d explode, feeling him smile against your lips, tugging you even closer.

the in-between

The chasm of grief, so cold and uninviting, seemed to open up and swallow you whole.

You hated war. You hated watching the blood of innocent people being shed by the ruthless works of evil. You hated that you had survived while so many you had grown to know and love didn’t. They’re just kids. They’re too young. They didn’t deserve to die the way they did. They’re just kids. They’re just kids.

You weren’t sure how you even survived.

As soon as you locked eyes with each other, you, Harry, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Hermione, Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Parvati collapsed into one giant hug on the floor, tightly clutching one another. You had all been incredibly lucky to have made it through together.

Fred’s eyes carefully scanned the room, searching for a familiar face. When he saw you there in the corner, eyes squeezed shut and clinging to your best friends, he wanted nothing more than to approach and comfort you. But he knew you all needed this time together—you had lost many loved ones, and they were some of the only family you had left. So he let you be, leaning against the wall and watching from afar.

Over the next hour or so, people slowly started trickling out of the Great Hall—parents coming to pick up their kids, families reuniting—until it was just you, Harry, Hermione, Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, Fleur, and the Weasleys. There was an unspoken feeling of gratitude lingering in the air and you could sense the relief all-around.

Your heart clenched as you watched Harry embrace his godfather. Your mother had died when you were young and your father had suffered a similar fate as the Longbottoms, so watching families reunite always sent a spear through your chest.

“Hey,” you heard, feeling someone intertwine their fingers with yours. You didn’t need to look over to know it was Fred. “Sickle for your thoughts? Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Leaning into him, you closed your eyes, attempting to will the tears away. “I don’t…I don’t know. I just hate war. While I’m glad this is over, I can’t help but think how unfair it all is. People losing each other, being torn apart…Voldemort’s gone, I know, but it just feels like he took a part of me to the grave with him.”

“I hope it’s not the part that made you fall in love with me,” Fred joked, and the corners of your lips quirked up in a grin.

“Of course not…” you murmured, “you’d have to pry your heart out of my cold, dead hands to try and take it from me. I’m here now, whether you like it or not.”

“For good?”

“For good,” you stated, reaching up to kiss him softly. “I love you.”

“And you know I love you more.”

epilogue (it’s a new spring with you)

With the Dark Lord gone, there were many loose ends to tie up and much-deserved resting to do. You had stayed behind to help start with cleaning up the castle grounds, before deciding to take the Hogwarts Express back home all togehter—for old time’s sake.

“What about the shop?” you asked George as you sat down between him and Fred. “Don’t you two need to be there?”

“We reckon it’ll be just fine—it’s not just us there anymore, remember?” he said, “but, Freddie thought you were more important. That’s why we’re here.”

Resting your head against his chest, you gazed up at Fred and smiled. “You left for me?”

“You know all that I do is for you,” he explained as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ew my teeth, they’re going to rot from the cheesy sweetness,” Ron groaned. “You’d think that the war would wipe all that out.”

“Oh shut it, Ronald,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Let them live.”

You drifted off and slept through the entire ride home, feeling a tad bit more refreshed when pulling in to King’s Cross station. It was a blur from there: taking the Floo network, carrying bags, washing up, and whatnot. You felt as if you were on autopilot with a barely functioning Muggle battery. All you wanted was to collapse on the floor and sleep forever, but you wanted to sit around the living room floor with your friends and catch up like you always did during the summer.

Lupin and Tonks had gone home to take care of Teddy while the rest of you were settling in. Chatter filled the Burrow as you spent time unpacking, and you found that you’d missed all the noise more than you initially thought. Dinner was an equally chaotic but also peaceful affair, filled with plenty of toasts, extra servings, and laughter, of course.

While Sirius was busy telling the table about the Mauraders’ antics, Fred squeezed your hand, jerking his head behind him to indicate that he wanted to go out back.

Now? What is it? you mouthed.

Fred nodded. Yes, now, so come on.

He took your hand and led you out the back door to the orchards, crescent moon shining overhead. A faint smile graced your face as you thought back to the days you spent together under the giant apple tree, reading stories from Hermione’s books to one another, skipping stones by the lake, and tending to the chickens.

A familiar tune started drifting through the air, and Fred extended a hand towards you.

“May I have this dance?”

You were immediately hit with a wave of déjà vu at his question, and allowed him to sweep you up into his arms. He placed his hands on your waist and you felt sparks shoot up your spine at his touch. Your arms wound their way around his neck as you swayed to the melody, losing yourselves in a dreamy lullaby. Though you had done this with him before on several occasions, it still felt like you were falling in love all over again.

You swallowed hard as you thought about how you had both been forced to grow up so fast. Moments like these—of pure bliss and childlike innocence—were far and few between, so they were to be greatly cherished. It was easy when he was twirling you around like this; effortlessly guiding your motions, to forget that anything and anyone else existed.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the feeling of his warm hands through your sweater and the soothing sound of his soft hums, allowing them to carry you away.

At one point, he briefly stops before spinning you outwards—but this time, he doesn’t pull you back in to catch you. You’re about to be confused but then, you turn around to see him down on one knee, a glittering diamond ring in hand. You froze in place, completely shocked.

“A diamond, perhaps…” you echoed, recalling that one winter night when you had kissed him for the first time, feeling like your heart was going to explode out of your chest.

“It’s always been you,” said Fred in a simple, soft tone of voice. “Always has been and always will be.”

Your eyes began to water. “You’re bloody kidding me…”

“Y/N, I know I joke around a lot—hell, I opened a whole shop with Georgie…but one thing I’ve never joked about is the way I feel about you.”

“Fred…”

“...Will you marry me?”

You opened and closed your mouth but no words seemed to come out. All you could manage was a small nod before tears fully blurred your vision and you stepped forward, hand shaking as he slid the diamond ring on.

When his lips brushed against yours, time seemed to splutter to a stop, and you felt your weary heart slowly but steadily stitch itself back together.

Except, he was the one holding the needle and telling you that there was no need to be anxious or scared because he’d be by your side for the rest of your life.

So don't let me wait Come to me tenderly in the June night I stand at your gate And I sing you a song in the moonlight A love song, my darling A moonlight serenade

tags: @htchnr @arkofblake @xhanthexzoria @antriimx @pinkdaiisies @lovely-whale-is-lovely

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley x reader #Spotify

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wellthatschaotic · 2 years ago

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FKFKJFKFKF

#he failed to make to correct dish and spent 5 minutes panicking #bestie i dont think any meal is gonna help ron rn

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daddiesdrarryy · 1 month ago

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Ron: Zabini keeps bullying me at work

Hermione: What do you mean?

Ron: Well he keeps taking my lunch away

Hermione: I don’t think a cup of coffee counts as lunch

Ron: Well he keeps taking it away and forcing me to eat the lunchbox that he made! And he won’t leave my office until I finish everything!

Hermione: So Blaise Zabini is bullying you by not letting you drink coffee for lunch and making you eat the meal he made instead?

Ron: Yes! It’s absurd!

Hermione: Right, because somebody making you eat a healthy meal is a bully

Ron: Exactly!

Hermione: …so, Harry, thoughts?

Harry: Do you think I should stab myself with this quill so I can see Draco at St Mungo’s?

Hermione: *sighs*

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oneglass-zinfandel · 2 months ago

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Hungry Heat

Pairing : Ron Weasley x FEM!reader

CW : implied consent? Spit as lube, oral (f receiving), Fingering, size difference implied, enjoying the scent of sweat, finishing untouched, (idk what I could have missed)

Plot : It's a hot day in Hogwarts, leaving you and Ron to sweat together in your bed, trying to cuddle somewhat. What starts as simply trying to cool off quickly turns into a nice meal for Ron

Warning : 18+ Smut, Lemon !!!

A/N : I was so bored and I need more Ron Munch smut stories, also I totally didn't study for my three tests I have this week- so wish me luck!! Oh and feel free to recommend some Ron Smut one-shots and such<3

For the past four months you've dated the one and only Ron Weasley. It was wonderful. Sure he had his grumpy moods at times, but he loved you deeply. He asked you to be patient with him, so you were. In return, he never rushes anything between you. You leaned in for the first kiss, and he finished it, you started talking about a date, and he'd ask you out. All you needed was to give him a subtle 'go ahead'.

Naturally, that thoughtfulness spread to sexual activities. You have only really made out, even though that took a while to get to. He never really talked about it or made sexual remarks. Some would say he's a gentleman for it...but something told you he was just holding back.

It was a warm night, the Hogwarts halls were steaming with how hot it was. The number of students didn't help. But at least you had alone time with Ron, seeing everyone in your dorm was out for ice cream and would be gone for a while. Taking all the blankets off your bed, opening the windows and only leaving one pillow on the bed wasn't enough. It was hot. Really hot. Sure you were cuddled up and that could be a good reason for sweating...but you wouldn't let go anytime soon

Ron laid down beside you, his head on your shoulder, both sprawled on the small bed, trying to stay close but also fighting the heat.

Your eyes lock with his as you mutter, breathless "Why don't you take your shirt off?"

Ron's eyes widen slightly flustered as he spoke bewildered "excuse me?", which makes you roll your eyes. "Well technically it's more acceptable for a guy to just have his shirt off than a girl, weirdly enough" you state referring to the norm. He shakes his head confused by your statement but looks over to you, sitting up on his side, supporting himself with his elbow "you're weird mate, I'm not sweatin' all over you"

Despite his words he takes his shirt off. You can't help but look over at his subtle muscles in his arms, the thin layer of sweat on his body making you question yourself. Of course he notices, Snickering to himself but not mentioning it. Instead he looks over at you, still shy and slightly insecure about his body, "what about you? You're still fully clothed.."

His words snap you out of your daydreaming as you look at his face and down at yourself, sitting up. "What do you want me to do? I don't have a bra under here.." you trail off slightly, thinking it would be too weird to casually have your boobs out, no matter the size..

The comment makes Ron flustered, imagining it for a second before shaking his head and shrugging. "Well you could always take off your shorts..you've got underwear on don't you?"

Sure he has a point but..would that be any better? Being in your panties? To be fair it might help with some airflow..in your full defense he said you could.

Trying to be casual you shrug and undo your shorts pulling them down. Ron tries not to stare but he can't help but glance from your pretty panties up to your face. They were cute and white, a nice crisscross pattern and a little bow on the top with lace...casual yet oh so tempting..you notice him looking blushing slightly before speaking up, "I can put my shorts back on if you're uncomfortable..?". Which Ron quickly shakes his head to. Of course he wouldn't want that!

"no no, it's okay- they're um- pretty..like a dove or sum.." his voice was nervous and slightly lustful, he couldn't possibly help it. You looked beautiful, as the sun shined thru the window hitting you just right..your face and your pretty panties. Ron had to clear his throat, looking away embarrassed.

You take a little second to respond. All you needed to get him closer was to...merely give him the idea you wanted it.. maybe the sun was hitting your head for to long to the point your brain melted, but you couldn't help the desire bubbling for so long. It's not actually sex right? I mean...he'd just use his mouth..maybe a finger or two.. definitely not three- he was to big! Your mind clouded with the idea of him eating you out. You can't say you're exactly new to those thoughts, especially recently with him wearing T-shirts and rolled up sleeves. The sweat and the muscle..oh you were dazed.

Ron grew more nervous at your silence after his compliment, but before he could apologize you break the silence.

"You know..." you start off slow, dragging out your words a bit, gentle and curious, "I'm really hot still..". Your statement is simple, as you look up at him Thru your eyelashes almost, pretty doe eyes. Ron gulps a bit, sucking in a little breath. "Yeah?" "Yeah."

"Maybe you could..slip my panties off for me?"

That little request that took courage from you, awakened something within Ron. But not really a beast, not yet at least. The desire in your eyes turns on the signal in his head like for everything else. A sign. He nods slowly, his words coming out slightly breathless but he composes himself. "Yeah..yeah alright"

His accent came out thick, as you sit up more, spreading your legs just a bit, his eyes lock on your pretty panties. His large hands go to your hips, silently asking you to lift them for him. His thumb rubs agents the fabric of the cotton panties. 'Focking hell' he thought to himself, as a finger hooks under the waistband on each side. Slowly pulling them down. Perhaps he didn't understand the assignment or maybe he was just too dazed, but the second they were down enough to reveal your pretty cunt? He stopped tugging them down for a moment.

Ron's eyes lock on you, maybe the slightly musky scent from the sweat would set someone off, but Ron? He couldn't care less, not like it was awful. Only natural his pretty girl got hot under all those clothes right? From your little 'ahem' his eyes dart up at yours before pulling your panties fully down and throwing them wherever, quickly regretting it because he kind of wanted to take them..

"Thank you Ronnie..you always listen to me" you coo at him oh so sweetly, your sweet boy. Ron's pretty eyes look at you, the praise making his cock harden, he didn't even realize how hard he was from the sight alone. His hand rubbing your hip, itching to touch your pussy. The sight making you melt.

"You really deserve a reward don't you? Maybe I could buy you a meal..." You trail off again, your words offering an idea of a cute date, but the implications of the moment made something in Ron's brain..twist. just the right way. He quickly nodded, his other hand at your inner thigh spreading your legs, before lifting it

"Yeah..yeah I'm fuckin' starving Hun.."

With those words he lifts your hips, making you arch up, putting your legs on his shoulders. He couldn't possibly lay down with his aching dick in the way, instead lifting your pussy up for him. The action surprised you as you gasp a bit holding onto the mattress under you. You feel his breath so clearly on your cunt, slightly leaking already.

Ron's eyes look over every inch of your pretty pussy, taking a finger to spread your lips apart, making some of your juices leak out, he chuckles to himself oh so proud. But he wouldn't want anything to go to waste as he quickly licks it up making you catch a whimper in your throat. He pulls away once more speaking softly right to your cunt "think you can hold yourself up for me like this? Just a moment baby.." he asks looking at your eyes over your pussy. Confused slightly you nod, what did he need two hands for?

As you steady yourself in that position he takes both hands putting them on your thighs, using his thumb to spread your lips apart. His dick throbbing at the sight. Your pussy clenching over nothing, leaking just for him. Just for him. No matter how embarrassed you felt from that alone, your moan was worse, pornographic, as Rons tongue probes at your entrance. Giving your cunt a firm kiss before grabbing your hips again and diving in.

His tongue was skillful in its own way. Sure he never did this before oh but he thought of it. He was a munch. And he definitely thought about this before, what could possibly make you feel good. His lips were big leaving saliva all over, his nose nudging your clit taking in your sweaty scent. He closed his eyes with a groan as his tongue entered you, trying to drink up everything you had to offer.

Your moans and wiggling get his attention, whining how good it feels and how the position slightly makes your body hurt. His eyes only half lid at your remarks as he grips you tighter at the expense of bringing your pussy closer.

Your moans of his name made his dick twitch. Your taste and smell made him groan right in your pussy. Only ever pulling away to spit on your clit, watching it dribble down your hole before pushing it in and drinking it alongside your fluids. Sucking on your clit every so often, teasing it with his tongue. You both had to admit the spit was turning you both on. Maybe it was cuz of how it looked, maybe because of the simple reason it was sloppy, but you were getting wetter by the second.

And Ron was so messy. Wanting more of you. More of your taste and essence. He pressed to your lower abdomen as you let out a chocked moan at the feel spurring him on even more. Finally, he brings his hand to your pussy. But he needed you bad. And he needed you now. Talking into your pussy how you're 'such a good girl' and how 'you can take it', he pushes in two fingers at once making your legs shake a bit, moaning at the stretch. It felt so good and his fingers were thick, the idea of his cock being thicker made you absolutely lose your mind.

As he fingered your poor puffy pussy, sucking on the clit, he felt his cock twitch so much..he was gonna cum untouched. Working harder and speaking into your pussy while fucking his fingers inside you made you see stars.

"cum for me"

"give me more, more of your pussy"

"fuck, taste so good"

"on my tongue pretty"

His words and the constant stimulation on your pussy made your head spin, as you whine his name humping up into his face further if possible, as you cum on his fingers and tongue.

Like the starved man he is, Ron licks up every drop. But not before humping into the air, as his shorts get stained with a wet patch, his underwear soaked.

After your orgasm, Ron pressed a sweet kiss to your pussy before setting your legs down on the Bed. As you pant you can't help but notice his shorts. Your breathing is shallow but you speak up "you..came?"

Thru his embarrassment he nods slightly, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand cupping his own cock thru his shorts. Still hard, and oh so wet.

You can see the tent clearly, the size..it was like out of an inaccurate romance book. But you can't help but sit up and pull his pants down without a word, alongside his boxers. Not only do you pull them down, you stretch the elastic looking down into his boxers where the cum stained. His cock standing agents his stomach, hard, red and leaky.

Your eyes meet his as a hiss left his lips, maybe even a whimper. "Maybe I should return the favor~", "please do baby.."

#smut #harry potter #harry potter smut #ron weasley smut #ron weasley #hp #hp smut #ron weasly x reader #harry potter x reader #ron weasley x you

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mssorceressupreme · 5 months ago

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Amortentia Pt. 2 | F.W

If you haven’t read Pt.1 I suggest you do as this is a continuation, here’s the link! 🥰🥰:

Amortentia Pt. 1

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: you and Fred have an apology dinner but it gets disrupted by a group of unfriendly men, and Fred saves you by pranking them. Both of you manage to escape them, and as you're stuck in a confined alleyway space with Fred, you start to realise, maybe he's not so bad after all.

Warnings/tags: noncon touch, drunk/scary men, enemies to lovers (continued from pt 1), pranks, forced proximity (again lol), trapped in a confined space together, fluffy ending, fred weasley is the standard <3

a/n: I added a birthday part cuz it was my birthday yesterday so I thought why not 🥹🥵

——— The Three Broomsticks was warm and inviting, a haven against the biting cold of the almost-winter day. Outside, frost kissed the cobblestones, and the skeletal trees rattled in the wind, but inside, a comforting fire crackled in the hearth, sending a soft glow over the room.

You sat at a small table in the corner with Fred, the remnants of your meal scattered between you. Your Butterbeer was still warm in your hands, the frothy top sending ribbons of steam into the air.

Fred leaned back in his chair, his long legs stretching lazily under the table as he looked at you, his lips curved in his trademark smirk. “So…” he began, his tone light and teasing. “Do you still think I’m an annoying menace, or have I managed to earn, oh, I don’t know, half a point in my favour?”

You pretended to consider this, tapping your chin as your eyes glinted with mock thoughtfulness. “Hmm… you’re still very much a menace,” you said, the corner of your mouth twitching up. “But I suppose you’re slightly less unbearable than before.”

Fred gasped, placing a hand on his chest dramatically. “Slightly less unbearable? Merlin, you’re just full of compliments today, aren’t you? Careful, or I might get a big head.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, despite your best efforts to keep your guard up. “Don’t worry, Fred. Your ego’s already big enough for the both of us.”

He grinned, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. The soft light from the fire made his freckles stand out more than usual, and his eyes—mischievous and warm—seemed to catch every flicker of flame. “Well, you did forgive me for the prank that wasn’t even meant for you, so I’m taking that as a win.”

“I wouldn’t say I’ve forgiven you. I’m still humiliated, you know. My shoes squelched with pudding for hours,” you shot back, but your smile betrayed the sharpness of your words.

Fred’s laugh was warm and rich, and it made the corners of your heart soften despite your better judgment. “You’ve got to admit, though, the idea of Ron stepping into a giant pudding bomb was brilliant. You just had…unfortunate timing.”

“Unfortunate is an understatement.” You shook your head, exasperately. “How do you even come up with these things? Is pranking a full-time career for you?”

“Pretty much.” He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. “But don’t act like you’re not curious. What about you? Surely you’re not all books and rules, are you?”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back. “And what makes you think that?”

Fred leaned closer, his grin widening. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t have agreed to come here with me. Or you’d at least look more miserable about it.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “Fine. Maybe I’m… a little curious.”

Fred’s smirk deepened. “Knew it.”

The conversation flowed naturally after that, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in ages. Fred had a way of drawing you out of your shell with his wit and easy charm, and you began to see past the mischief to the kindness beneath.

He had an easy way of making you laugh, his humour quick and sharp but never cruel. It was…nice. You hated to admit it, but it was nice.

Halfway through the meal, Fred glanced toward the counter and stood abruptly. “I’ll be right back. Got to sort something out.”

“Sort what out?” you asked, watching him suspiciously.

He grinned. “You’ll see. Don’t miss me too much.”

You rolled your eyes as he headed toward the bar, where he started chatting animatedly with the bartender, leaving you alone at the table. You took a sip of your Butterbeer, glancing around the nearly empty pub. It was a quiet day, likely because of the cold, and most of the tables were vacant.

As you set your mug down, your fork slipped off the table, clattering to the floor. With a small sigh, you bent down to pick it up, only to bump into someone’s leg.

“Oi, watch it,” a gruff voice snapped.

Startled, you looked up to see a man scowling down at you. His expression shifted when he took in your face, his frown turning into a sleazy grin. “Well, well. What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”

“I’m not alone,” you said firmly, straightening up.

But the man ignored you, his eyes roaming over you in a way that made you uneasy. His two friends joined him, flanking him on either side, their grins just as unsettling.

“Why don’t you come sit with us, sweetheart?” one of them said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

You jerked back, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “Leave me alone.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” the first man said, stepping closer. “We just want to get to know you better. What’s the harm in that?”

He placed a hand on your shoulder and you glared at it, "Don't touch me." You gritted your teeth.

"Come on, don't act like you don't like it." The man smirked, about to move his arm elsewhere on your body.

"Let's take this somewhere more fun, eh?" He then whispered into your ear and your face scrunched up in disgust.

Before you could respond, Fred’s voice cut through the tension like a whip.

“Is there a problem here?”

The men turned to see Fred standing a few feet away, his expression cold and his usual playful demeanour gone. The man touching you slowly removed his hand from your shoulder.

“Who’s this, your boyfriend?” one of the men sneered.

Fred’s jaw tightened, and he took a step closer. “Yeah, I am. And you’re going to leave her alone. Now.” His usual playfulness replaced by a rare edge of anger.

You'd been so intimidated by the group of men that you didn't notice Fred claiming he was your boyfriend. Though a lie, you couldn't care less, you just wanted out.

"Look at you kids, thinking you're so tough eh?" They mocked.

"Why don't you sod off and let her come have fun with us." One of the men snarled, attempting to shoo Fred away.

"I said to leave her alone." Fred raised his voice slightly, his face stern, any bit of kindness, all erased. His eyes looked as though they were shooting daggers at the men.

You'd never seen him this cross before, and you hated to admit but it was, dare you say, slightly attractive.

The men exchanged glances, clearly unimpressed. “Or what?”

Fred didn’t bother answering. Instead, his fist shot out, connecting with the nearest man’s jaw with a satisfying crack.

Chaos erupted. The other two men lunged, but Fred slipped past them and grabbed your hand, yanking you toward the door together. “Run!”

You didn’t need to be told twice. The two of you bolted out of the pub, your laughter mixing with your ragged breaths as you sprinted down the street. "But the bill? We didn't pay—" You panted.

"I've covered it don't worry!" Fred responded, yelling as you continued running.

“Fred, they’re going to catch us!” you gasped, glancing over your shoulder to see the three men chasing after you.

“Not a chance,” He said, pulling you into one of the tiny wall gaps within the narrow alleyway.

The space was so tight that you were practically pressed against Fred, your back against the cold brick wall. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his breath warm against your temple as you both tried to stay silent in this confined space.

He smiled down at you, and you averted your eyes, trying to hide how flustered you felt.

Brilliant, yet again, you were trapped with none other than Fred Weasley.

“Fred, they’re getting closer,” you whispered peeking out slightly, your voice trembling.

Fred reached into his pocket, pulling out a small ball. “Not for long.”

With a flick of his wrist, he threw the ball into the street, and it exploded in a burst of fireworks, the colourful sparks blinding your pursuers. The men shouted in confusion, stumbling back before finally retreating.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your heart beating rapidly as the men retreated, running the opposite direction. “Fireworks? Really?”

Fred grinned, his face inches from yours in the tight space. “What can I say? I like to make an impression.”

And then it hit you—fireworks. You’d smelled fireworks in your Amortentia potion. Your eyes darted to Fred, his face lit up by the lingering sparks, clearly proud with his 'prank'.

A small smile played on your lips as you observed him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now as he turned his attention back to you.

You nodded, snapping out of your thoughts. “Yeah. That was… amazing.” You chuckled softly.

Though, seconds later, your laughter died as you realised just how close you were. The alley was quiet now, the only sound the distant hum of the village and the pounding of your heart. Fred’s eyes met yours, and neither of you moved.

You felt a slight rush flow straight to your core as your bodies pressed against each other, but you quickly snapped out of it, ignoring your fantasies.

“This is… not how I expected today to go,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Fred’s lips twitched into a smile. “Welcome to the world of mischief.”

"It wouldn't hurt to do this more often would it?" You found yourself giving in to whatever this was...fun? pranks? mischief? After a taste of this, it was hard to resist the urge for more.

"Never." He grinned.

Fred reached into his pocket again, pulling out a small box. “Oh, and…happy birthday Y/N.”

Your eyes widened as you took the box, opening it to find a cupcake with the words “Happy Birthday” scrawled in icing.

“How did you—?”

“Hermione told Ron...to tell George...to tell me,” Fred admitted, his grin sheepish. “Thought I’d get you something sweet. You know, to make up for everything.”

You smiled, a warmth fuzzy feeling spreading throughout your chest, this was the first time a guy had gotten you a gift. “Thank you, Fred. This… this means a lot.”

As the two of you walked back to Hogwarts, your laughter and banter filled the cold night air. You found yourself looking forward to spending more time with Fred.

And as his hand brushed yours briefly, sending an electrical spark through you, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were starting to fall for him.

It couldn't possibly be.

Had he managed to charm you?

An answer you'd never in a million years anticipated would escape your mouth, fell right out.

Yes, yes he did.

___ a/n: @htchnr, @wwmalufa, @owlisbuffering I ended up making a part 2!! Hope you guys enjoy it hehe <33

#fred weasley x you #fred x reader #x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins #george weasley #hermione granger #draco malfoy #hogwarts fanfiction #harry potter imagine #fred weasly x reader

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