Champagne & Shackles; Beta Part Two (Fred Weasley)

a/n: i’m SORRY i’m terrible at time management, school is kicking me ass. i had no idea so many of you had the same affinity for the brothers of the beta fraternity as i do, this is for all my frat rats out there i love you most. this is an ode to my very favorite date party theme: champagne and shackles. in which you and you’re chad or brad of a date are candcuffed together until you finish a massive bottle of champagne between the two of you.

weeks after the infamous beta darty, you can’t seem to pull your thoughts or presence away from the ginger boy who made your heart skip a beat. That is, until you’re invited to the beta champagne and shackled date party.

y/f/n: your friend’s name

warnings: cussing, alcohol, mentions of sex, modern!fred, and also very typical frat boy lingo stolen straight from the mouths of frat boy i associate myself with

disclaimer: while they’re semi-drunk in this they’re still coherent and stable enough to know what they’re doing. nothing that happens in this is coercive or decided under an incapacitated mind. king freddie would never take advantage of a girl like that.

part one

consumed.

You have been completely consumed with the the thought of a certain red head for weeks now. Since you kissed him goodbye on your front lawn, the image of Fred Weasley has yet to leave your brain. While you’ve been at the same school for almost two years, you’ve seen him more in the few weeks following the beta darty than you have in the 18 months you’ve spent on campus. Lines in coffee shops, the terrace at the union, the corners of the library you’ve inhabited for years. He’s everywhere. Not that you’re complaining.

The grin that plays across his lips every time you catch his eye sends your heart into overdrive. You’ve spent countless nights awake in y/f/n’s bed analysing every text, every snapchat, every story. You replay the day in the beta backyard at least once a day, yearning for the feeling of his touch on your skin. You’ve hardly returned to the brick-faced mansion, however. You’ve of course been invited through Draco and the countless group messages that flood your phone the nights leading up to a beta party, but you want himto invite you. You want him to want you there.

Of course he wants you there. He spends hours in that filthy basement he calls home every weekend searching for you among the dozens of drunk girls, hoping you had decided to turn up this time. But you’re not there.

Y/f/n mentioned date party to you this past weekend. Draco being social chair of the fraternity, he’s been planning the function for weeks. Champagne and Shackles. A fan favorite among every sorority girl throughout the school. Mixing together handcuffs and a massive bottle of champagne would have nearly anyone begging for an invite. You decide not to get your hopes up, constantly reminding yourself that while he is the boy that made you feel like you were the only two people in the world while you were surrounded by hundreds of drunk college boys, he’s still a twenty year old beta boy. It’s hard to stray from the hook up culture that he’s been practically bred into. Nevertheless, there is still a glimmer of hope in you that you’ll be cuffed to him this Saturday night instead of another girl he’s probably found on greek row.

He’s been drafting this text in the notes app of his phone for three days now. He’s changed the wording, the punctuation and the amount of details in his intended invite to you one hundred times now. George and Oliver groan every time he stops their studying or game of Call of Duty to read them the revised text he’s come up with this time.

“My god, Weasley, you’re acting like you’re writing your vows.” Oliver jokes, setting his xbox controller down on the makeshift coffee table in the twins room. “Just send it, you know she’ll say yes.”

But that’s the problem, he doesn’t know that.

“Wood we’ve thrown six times in the past month, she’s come once.” Fred reminds him of the painful fact that it seems like you’re just not that into him. “If I was sure she was gonna say yes I would have done it by now.”

George snatches his twin’s phone from his hands, copying the now final draft of this overly thought out text asking you to his date party. Before Fred can spring up from his bed, George has already got the message pasted into Fred’s text chain with you and hit send, making the color drain from his twin’s face.

“Are you fucking serious, George.” Fred finally reaches his younger brother and tackles him to the ground. “I barely read through it she’s gonna think I’m a fucking weirdo.”

George is able to shake his brother off of him, bursting out laughing with Oliver at Fred’s crazed state. George knew Fred had feelings for you, well practically every who spoke to a drunk him for more that ten minutes knew, but it was still comical to see his twin get so worked up over a girl he hadn’t even slept with yet.

“Fred you’ve been reading the stupid thing for an hour now,” He points out, Oliver nods his head in agreement. “What’s the worst that could happen? Huh? She says no and you ask one of the eight hundred other girls who fawn over you every chance they get. I know you like her Freddie but this isn’t a life or death thing.”

As Fred caught his breath from his outburst, he knew George had a point. He wouldn’t drop dead if you rejected his offer, but it sure help like he would.

hey idk if you’ve heard but our date party is this saturday and i was wondering if you would want to come

Your phone lights up just as you sit down to eat dinner with a couple of your friends. Once you see the name fred weasley next to the notification your heart stops. Taking y/f/n’s hand in yours, you turn the screen so she can read it. Her lips turn up in a grin as she squeezes your hand.

“I told you he would ask you,” She squeals, shaking her shoulders in her little ‘happy dance’ as she likes to put it. “Draco won’t stop talking about how tweaked Weasley’s been over some stupid text. I knew it was about you, I just knew it.”

You laugh at her imitation of her boyfriend, knowing it’s not far off from how he actually sounds. You reread the text probably thirty times, feeling even more giddy over such a simple and honestly not very personal text, but you don’t care. He asked you.

You spend far less time crafting a response than Fred did writing the initial text to you. If what y/f/n said is true and he really mulled over this for days, you may pass out.

i’d love to :)

The love seemed a bit overboard in your opinion, but y/f/n convinced you that it was a perfect response. You didn’t allow yourself to start looking for possible dress options until he really asked you, afraid you might jinx it if you bought a dress prematurely. Now, however, you’re on a time crunch. Someone in the house had to have something you could borrow. That night you try on at least ten dresses, all the girls on your floor flooding your room gushing over the fact that the Fred Weasley is taking you to his date party. He’s someone nearly everyone knows, and if they didn’t they were probably a geed, or lived in sophomore slums.

You finally land on a dark blue, spaghetti strapped sequin dress that clung tight to your curves. While nearly every dress you tried on felt like it might work, this is champagne and shackles after all, you have to dress to impress. Y/f/n won’t stop talking about what Fred will do the minute he sees you in the dress, praying she gets to watch his jaw drop. The two of you stay up late into the night again mushing over the thought of the two of you being swept off your feet by beta boys, the same boys you could hardly think about a month ago without becoming nauseous.

pregames at the house, malfoy and i will come by yours to grab you and y/f/n at 6:30

The text comes in Friday night. You can hardly contain the bubbling feeling in your stomach. As much as you feel like you’re sixteen years old again, you don’t care. You’ve finally joined the ninety percent of girls on greek row in one category, you’re crushing on Fred Weasley.

As the day finally rolls around, Fred is surprisingly back to his calm and collected demeanor. As much as the boys, and to be honest he himself, expected him to be bouncing off the walls over a slew of what if’s regarding the night ahead of him, he was rather calm about it all. He’s one half of the coveted Weasley Twins after all, he has a reputation to uphold.

The same cannot be said for you. As you curl your hair and apply your makeup to perfection, you can’t stop your knee from bouncing under the vanity counter you’re sat in front of. What if he secretly thinks you look bad in your dress? That you look like you tried to hard? As much as y/f/n tried to remind you of the fact that he was the one nervous about asking you, nothing seems to ease your growing anxiety. The hours tick closer to six-thirty and you sit patiently on your bed, completely ready and aimlessly scrolling through your socials to keep your mind off of the fact that in only twenty minutes Fred and Draco would be at your door to take you back to beta. The actual date party would be at one of the satellite houses, the penthouse of a nearby apartment paid for by betas massive budget.

Y/f/n takes your hand and forces you to look at her.

“Y/n,” She begins, now holding both of your hands between hers. “You are the hottest bitch this campus has ever seen. No one, not even Fred Weasley, deserves to be blessed with the absolute vision you are right now, but I guess he’ll have to do.”

You laugh at her attempt to hype you up in ten hopes that the knots in your stomach fade away. They partially do, but part of you is still in shambles over the thought of seeing him. He probably looks like even more of a greek god in a suit. Y/f/n’s phone buzzes with an ever so poetic ‘here’ text from her boyfriend and she gives your hands one more squeeze before dragging you down the staircase of your house. The boys are waiting just beyond the lawn, the same one you kissed Fred on weeks ago. The two of them have their hands in their pockets, looking like they’re deep in conversation, not even noticing that you and y/f/n are standing walking toward them.

He’s wearing a dark gray suit with a white button down with the top three buttons undone. His hair is perfectly messy. You didn’t even think it was possible for him to get any hotter, but here he is.

The boys turn their heads and immediately stop their conversation. The blonde’s face turns up in a smirk as his eyes trail over y/f/n’s body, but Fred is standing perfectly still with his mouth slightly agape as he watches you come closer to him. His cool and collected affect quickly runs out of his body as he watches your dress glitter under the street light.

“Told you.” Y/f/n whispers in your ear before she drops your hand to meet her boyfriend.

Draco greets y/f/n with a kiss and Fred pulls you into a hug. You melt at his touch. Even in the heels you borrowed from y/f/n, he still towers over you, his chin resting on top of your head.

“You look…” Fred trails off, trying to find the words to describe the sight in front of him. Heavenly, goddess like, like he might just skip the date party and get down on one knee. “…incredible.”

You muster up whatever confidence you have in the midst of your imposing anxiety to give him a somewhat composed reply. “You don’t look half bad yourself, Weasley.”

That heart-melting, mind-scrambling smile returns to his lips before the four of you begin walking what to the beta house. Fred keeps his hand on the small of your back the entire walk, desperately trying to keep you close to him.

The ungodly amount of alcohol you consume at the pregame seems to overtake any remaining worries in your body. Fred never leaves your side, as if you’re already cuffed together before you even arrive at the function itself. You talk with George and Oliver again, and meet some of Fred’s other fraternity brothers like Lee Jordan and Theo Nott. They all seem to know who you are before you can even introduce yourself. It would be difficult to not know your face after watching fred gawk over your every instagram post. Any sort of reservations you once held about the beta boys melt away. They may be wildly intimidating to a stranger that passed them on the street, but watching the boys sing along to whatever song is blasting through the speaker while dancing like they’ve just learned to walk shows you that they’re like every other boy you’ve met.

The walk to the penthouse is short, but it seems to take forever to reign everyone in everyone once in a while. Fred is continuously checking up on you, grasping your hand or your waist, making sure you aren’t cold in your dress. The second you make it to the penthouse you’re immediately cuffed to the red haired boy and handed a comically large bottle of champagne and told the rules.

No unshackling until you’ve finished the bottle.

The party is far more cramped than the one in their backyard. You can’t bring yourself to care about the occasionally bumps from someone in the crowd or the growing smell of alcohol around you. You’re completely consumed by the angelic giant dancing with you. Even with the handcuffs, Fred’s fingers are still intertwined with yours as his other hand is holding you close to his body, roaming from your waist to your back and over your ass. Anytime you go to open the bottle you’d been given at the door to continue on feeding the buzzed state you’ve been in since you arrived at the beta house, Fred stops you. He still grabs you drinks from the makeshift bar and pulls you into the ‘shot room’ to send copious amounts of burning liquor down your throat, but the bottle stays off limits.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about you this month, y/n.” Fred hiccups his way through his confession as his lips are pressed close to your ear to make sure you hear every word he says over the loud music. “You do something to me.”

You know whatever you try to say will come out slurred, so you do the next best thing you can think of to tell him that you’re feeling the same way. You wrap your free hand behind his neck to press your lips to his. He immediately pulls you closer into him like he was a dying man grasping onto his only source of oxygen. Again, with your lips tangled in his, you’re suddenly the only two in the room. This moment is one you know will occupy your thoughts until the end of time. Held by the boy you’re completely enamored with as the world seems to stop around you. In every sense of the word, it is perfect.

When you pull away from each other to gasp for air, you move your lips to his ear.

“Why can’t I open the champagne?”

He leans back to look you in the eyes. The colored led lights changing on his face make him somehow even more breathtaking. That same smile appears on his lips before he leans down toward you again.

“I don’t want to finish it,” He yells over the bass of the speaker. “I want you to be stuck with me for as long as possible.”

Without a second thought, you pull your hands together to take the bottle from Fred’s free hand to pop the cork off the top before he can stop you. You bring the freshly opened champagne to your lips and take a swig before offering it over to him. His brows furrow in confusion, wondering if maybe you do want to be unchained from him.

“Freddie, if you think it’s going to take an empty bottle to get rid of me you’re wrong,” You try to shout, even in all the noise he hears you and his chest tightens. “Cuffed or not, I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

He doesn’t reply, he simply takes the bottle from your hand and begins to chugs the fizzy drink, spilling over his face slightly. Watching him fumble over the liquid you know isn’t easy to take in large amounts, you can’t help but laugh at the sight in front of you. The words of Kid Cudi’s Pursuit of Happiness flood yours ears and you pull yourself right back against Fred’s body. He pulls the bottle from his mouth and hands it back to you before bringing his hand to your cheek to meet your lips once again. You’re sure you’re perfectly done hair and makeup is a wreck by now but your mind is continuously pulled back to the impossible reality that you’re kissing Fred Weasley. Of all the girls in the party, on this campus that flock to his side any chance they get, you’re the one that Fred Weasley suddenly became nervous around. The one he spent days wracking his brain to craft the perfect image of himself to.

His hand entangles in your more than likely sweaty hair, keeping you held exactly in place against his body as his hips sway against yours. His lips move from yours to your jaw, placing quick and light kisses across the skin. Something that would under any circumstance feel sexually driven feels lighthearted, pulling numerous giggles from your lips. His hand wanders down to your side and in a swift motion begins to tickle you through you dress. You laugh only become louder as you try to keep from doubling over.

“Fred!” You squeal through the stream of giggles. “Freddie stop!”

When you begin to snort, Fred loses it. He can no longer contain his stoic face he had on when he began to tease you. You’re eventually pulled from the party, Freds hand clasping yours as he discards the empty bottle in some corner of the penthouse and brings you to be unchained from him by the pledges standing by the entrance. Even with the cuffs off your wrists, you’re still chained to him as if you’re forced to be. 

Before you can leave the apartment, Fred’s jacket is shrugged from his shoulders and placed around yours. You pull yours arms through the sleeves that are obviously too long for you. “What a gentleman.”

“Can’t have you catching a cold,” He replies, holding you by your waist as you walk back to the beta house. You’ve never seen it so empty or quiet, no one around with the exception of a few boys studying in their lounge. You return to the bedroom you were in only hours ago, it’s a mess from the pregame but you’re able to make out Fred’s bed from his brothers. Massive movie posters and stolen items from various sororities hanging on the walls around his bed, the Good Will Hunting poster above the bed with the blue comforter being a dead giveaway that it belonged to Fred. He told you it was his favorite one night.

“You don’t have to, but you’re welcome to crash here,” He asks, beginning unbutton his now stained dress shirt, revealing his toned abdomen. It’s a sight you don’t think you’ll ever quite get used to. You stop yourself from nearly drooling and shake yourself back to reality. “You can borrow some clothes, probably be pretty big on you but they’d be better than that dress.”

He already has a tee shirt and boxers held out for you. He’s secretly hoping you’re too tired to walk back to your own house so he can spend a little while longer with you. Taking the clothing from his hands, you begin to slip the straps of your dress down, signalling Fred to immediately turn around to give you some privacy. You mouth a quick oh my god to yourself before continuing the change into the boy’s clothing.

“You can turn around,” You tell him and his eyes meet yours once again. He gives you a quick once over before his lips break out in a smile. “What? What are you so smiley over?”

“I like you in my clothes.”

Immediately your heart begins to hammer in your chest as your cheeks begin to heat up. Exhaustion washes over you, the lack of sleep you got in the past week due to your constant overthinking finally catch up to you. After switching off the lights, he pulls back him dark comforter to let you slip into the warmth of his bed. As soon as your settled you turn on your side to face him. You’re both quiet, wordlessly taking in the sight of each other.

“I like you, y/n. A lot,” He finally breaks the silence. You can’t help but wonder if he’s drunker than he’s let on. He’s not, he knows exactly what he’s saying and means every word. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before.”

You reach over to trace your finger up his defined cheek bones before resting your palm on the side of his face. His arm is lazily slung over your waist, absentmindedly keeping you close to him. You lean in further, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“I like you, Freddie, more than you know,” You confess. Your heart has never felt more full, you’re sure this whole month has been a dream and every second you’re terrified to wake up without even knowing Fred Weasley like you do now. “Thank you for taking me tonight.”

He softly chuckles, his hand moving up your body to stroke through your hair. Even in the dark you can see his bright smile, you’re new favorite sight. “I should be the one thanking you,” He tells you. “You have no idea how nervous I was that you wouldn’t come.”

You continue to shift closer to him, trying to expel the practically nonexistent space between the two of you. You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, finding his steady pulse quite calming. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Freddie.”

“I like it when you call me Freddie.”

You hum a response, suddenly becoming too tired to even speak. The warmth of his body radiating against yours mixed with the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you further into a deep sleep. His arms return to being wrapped around your waist, drinking in this moment and silently praying in would last forever. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before whispering, “Goodnight, y/n.”

Hours later George, Lee and Oliver stumble into the room, all with slices of pizza from the late night shop down the street and are met with the sight of you and Fred tangled in the sheets, light snores coming from the red haired boy. They wish they could find something about the moment that they would tease him about later, but they come up short. The image laid out in front of them looks like it was taken straight from a movie.

Needless to say your constant thoughts of the beta boy are soon replaced by his presence anywhere and everywhere you go. You aren’t sure of many things in life, but you’re certain that he was made for you and you for him.

tags:

@justmesadgirl@greyspilot@sunflowerdarlingx

Beta (Fred Weasley)

a/n: I had a whole frat boy series for the dolan twins and I cannot stay away, frat boys have my heart, both in real life and in imagines. Everything I do in life is for the chads and brads of the world.

beta theta pi has always been a fraternity you were intimidated by. they’re title as top house has always made you feel too insecure to go anywhere near them, but when your best friend starts dating a beta boy you’re forced to face the top house at their annual spring darty (day party for those who are unware)

disclaimer: hogwarts is basically just one greek row shawties. beta boys are hot, so expect the hottest of hogwarts to be in it.

y/f/n = your friend’s name

warnings: alcohol, sexual allusions, fratboy!fred

_____________

As the weather gets warmer on campus, that can only mean one thing: Darty Season. After suffering through the brutal winter, greek row opens up its lawns and lake front docks to the brothers and sisters of the greek system. Being the undisputed top house, Beta Theta Pi’s spring darties are always the most coveted invite. With their massive backyard and gallons of supplied liquor, theres not a soul on greek row who wouldn’t want a taste of the party of a lifetime. Well, except one.

You never bought into the beta supremacy like all of your sorority sister have. To be quite honest, you’re slightly terrified of the brick faced mansion only a block away from you. You’ve never heard anything that bad about the brothers, just that their looks and entitlement make any girl an easy target for heartache. 

Before you came to college, you had a longterm boyfriend who you agreed to stay with as long as possible, even over long distance. However, the summer before you kissed your hometown goodbye, he decided being tied down wasn’t for him and slept with a girl he met at orientation. He was only away for three days. So you kept your distance from beta and all the boys who had the capacity to make you feel as shattered as you did the July morning your ex boyfriend returned from his trip with a hickey on his neck. 

Your distance suddenly became harder to keep when your best friend, your roommate and sorority sister, shacked up with some beta boy she met in her communications class. You warned her as much as you could, her boyfriend being the blonde rich boy every girl whispered about, but Draco proved you wrong the minute he started begging her to be his girlfriend. 

So here you are, next to y/f/n who’s tucked under Draco’s arm as you walk toward the house thats bursting with sound and alcohol. He insisted on walking the two of you to the house, assuring none of the pledges would look at ‘his girl’ the wrong way. You’ve passed the beta house plenty of times over your past two years at school, never once have you gotten over the sinking feeling in your stomach to ever go in.

“Y/n, relax, we’re not a bunch of cavemen,” Draco speaks up once he notices how you’re holding your arms across your chest. Y/f/n told him about why you were so apprehensive about him, about his fraternity, he promised he’d be with you both the whole day. “Lets get something to drink, loosen you both up a bit.”

He takes you both to where there are pledges handing out cans of seltzers and beer and snags you both white claws before they’re gone. He sticks to his word and hangs around the two of you no matter how many times his brothers come up to him and try to convince him to join in on a game of beer di or chicken in the lake. You start feeling bad for him, y/f/n too, you know you’re holding them back in a sense. You tell both of them you’re okay if they want to hang out with his friends once you spot a couple of other girls in your sorority. 

The minutes feel like hours, while you’re having a fine time with your girl friends, you wish this party would end more than anything. Before you know it, y/f/n is screaming your name from the dock, waving you over. Once you get there she’s dragging you toward the lake, urging you to take off your top and shorts so you could play chicken with her and Draco. You immediately agree until you’re hit with the realization that you needed a fourth in order to play chicken.

Enter Fred Weasley. You’ve seen the twins around campus, everyone talks about them. Six foot something with fiery red hair and gorgeous bodies. You’ve seen their bare torsos on more saturday night snapchat stories than you can count. His baby blue swim hang low on his hips, putting his freckle littered chest and abdomen completely on display.

“Fred,” He says casually, reaching out his hand. “Most people call me Weasley, or Freddie.”

Your breath hitches, his hands are massive. You bite your lip to take his hand in yours, you’ve never actually shaken hands with any guy you’ve met at this school. You reply without meeting his burning gaze, “Y/n.”

All he says is a quiet ‘I know’ almost like you weren’t meant to hear it, before y/f/n is calling from Draco’s shoulders for the two of you to hurry up.  Your stomach turns at the thought of being on top of his shoulders. This won’t be a fair fight, Draco isn’t even six foot and Fred is a giant.

You edge closer to the stairs of the dock, Fred just jumps right in. The water is cold, unsurprisingly. Everything in you is praying that the chill of the water cools the flush that is running across your cheeks. Fred dunks his whole body under the water and feels for your ankles to pull you over his shoulders. The grips his huge hands have on the tops of your thighs makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“You ready?” He asks once you’re steady on his shoulders. You can’t see his face but you wish you could. His messy, wet hair splayed across his forehead must be a sight to for sore eyes. “I’ve got you tight up there, just don’t tip.”

You tell him you’re good before he makes his way over the Draco with y/f/n on top of him. She’s shorter than you, at least half a foot which makes it easier for you to put your hands on her shoulders to gain control. You’re both laughing as you try and push the other over. You’re almost having too much fun to forget that you’re in a bikini on top of arguable the best looking boy in your year in front of a backyard of hundreds of drunk students. Usually you would be more insecure about your current situation, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Eventually y/f/n loses her balance and topples over, bringing Draco down with her. Fred shouts out in celebration once they emerge front the lake. In a swift motion, his slippery hands pull your body off his shoulders to stand in front of him. His hand absentmindedly goes to your waist as he continues to shout at Draco for ‘being such a loser.’

His smile is radiant. It makes you smile with him and laugh with y/f/n as she rings out her hair. For the rest of the day, Fred barely leaves your side, his hand continues to make its way to hold you close to him by your waist. The drunker you get the less you notice it, you actually sort of like it. Any time a drinking game arises, he immediately pulls you along with him. Beer pong, flip cup, rage cage, he’s always planted next to you as you drink the day away. You meet his twin and his other friends who give him a knowing look when they see you practically joined at the hip.

His friend Blaise can’t help but smile your way, a shit eating grin gracing his features. He whispers something in Fred’s ear which makes him laugh a little. His laugh is perfect, you wouldn’t need even alcohol, you could get completely drunk off his features. You like the beta boys, you can’t understand why you were ever scared of them in the first place. George and Oliver talk to you as if you’ve know them for years, chatting about your mutual friends and your hometowns. You feel comfortable with them, it makes you happy.

“S’getting late,” He says, he isn’t slurring but his wobbly stance gives off that he’s clearly drunk. As the sky turns all shades of orange, you realize just how much time you’ve spent with him. You haven’t seen Draco or y/f/n in a while, meaning their probably up in his room. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to do that,” You protest, shaking your head but he stops you. His hand rests on the side of your neck, making you choke on your breath as you meet his eyes. His lazy smile makes your heart race.

“You’re very pretty, you know that?” He drunkenly stumbles over his words. Your heart is hammering against your rig cage, you feel weirdly sober now that he’s staring into your eyes. “Had class with you last semester, couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

You continue to shake your head, wondering if this day had just been a wild dream and you were going to wake up in yours and y/f/n’s shared room in your pajamas any second. But his hand travelling up your side pulls you into the realization that this is reality.

“Can I kiss you?”

You don’t reply, you simply lift onto your toes to meet his lips with yours. If you were completely sober, you would never be so bold but everything in you was screaming for his touch. His lips are warm, a completely one-eighty from his cold hands against your skin. The party goes on around you but you feel like time stands still in Fred’s embrace. He pulls away from you for just a second to catch his breathe before leaning down to catch you in another kiss. His hand moves from your waist to the small of your back as the kiss deepens.

You eventually pull from each other, breathless, once you feel beer from various cups splash against your skin as a group of boys huddle next to you to sing out whatever song is playing at the moment. You both laugh as you lean your head against his bare chest, drinking in this moment.

“Come on then,” He says, taking your hand in his. Your head is spinning, not from the alcohol, but from the complete state of bliss you’re in. “I’ll grab you a shirt and get you home.”

You walk back to your house, hand in hand with his tee shirt hanging just above your knees, talking about everything under the sun. While the walk itself is short, the moment seems to last forever. When you each your front lawn, he tugs on your hand to pull you into him once more, feeling his soft lips meet yours. Your heart flutters as you walk toward your front door, turning back to him and he smiles at you, making your heart melt.

“Goodnight, Freddie.” You call out from the opened door. He gives you a small waves and tells you he’ll see you soon. Once the door is shut you close your eyes and can’t help but smile. You squeal, causing the girls in your living room to look out the window and see Fred Weasley with his fingers on his lips and a wide smile. They pull you onto the couch and beg you to tell them all about your day in the background of beta theta pi. You can’t contain your grin as you relay today’s events to your sorority sisters.

Maybe beta isn’t so scary after all.