Prompt: After being together for years, Fred develops a change of heart.
Warning: Angst, cheating, Fred being a dumbass.
Words:4.9k
Sometimes love has a weird way of working out. Some would say for the greater good but the more heartbroken bitter people of the world would say otherwise. You used to live by the cliche quote that played over millions of times in sappy romantic movies and classic books citing that if it’s meant to be, it will happen. You never truly understood what you read but you preached it nonetheless. You supposed it wasn’t until you experienced losing what was ‘yours’ that you finally understood those words, and you also changed your thoughts to begin loathing the phrase.
You spent most of your early years bathing in fairy tales and believing in the concept of true love and finding the one before your twenties. Never had you seen this process as obscure or too sudden, of course all the classic princesses were in their late teens when they found their princes, so why wouldn’t you?
To you, Fred Weasley was the living breathing knight in shining armour. He had everything a girl could dream of. Kind eyes, a soft smile, a warming heart, and a one of a kind sense of humor. Fred Weasley was the classic Prince Charming and everyone knew it. You guessed dating him you had naturally assumed you would be the one to take the shoes of Cinderella- or so that was how the story was to go.
No one ever wishes bad things for their relationship. Fred and you had been dating since your second year at Hogwarts. You’d met on the train ride home during the holidays and hit it off immediately. You kept more on the quiet end, which surprised most being a Gryffindor and all. His loud exterior and childish way put a strain on you from the start but as time drifted on, you began to appreciate his ways of life. Fred viewed life as a party rather more than a daily task and it was a new refreshing idea to you. When you date someone for five years you naturally assume you know almost everything about them. You had spent thousands of restless nights up in the Common Room chatting until sunrise about childhood memories, dreams, and fears.
You knew he loved his family more than anything, his favorite season was fall, he had a secret birthmark near the bottom of his back, and hated olives. You soaked up Fred’s words like a sponge absorbing water so when the day came when his words no longer existed, you took note.
Fred was absolutely rubbish at hiding his feelings, he was practically an open book, his face giving away everything and lately things had taken a turn. On your dates to Hogsmeade he stared out the window of The Three Broomsticks looking disinterested and humming as silence settled over. Over the holiday break at his family home Fred was locked away in his room for most of the week and only came down for food or matches of Quidditch with his brothers.
During study sessions together his nose remained buried deep in his book not daring to glance up for anything. Although during meals he was as lively as ever. He would shout down the table- no longer sitting next to you but across- and threw food with his friends laughing like a hurricane. Most of his time was spent blabbering away with Angelina Johnson and George. He seemed to be devoting much of his time to the two nowadays- understandable George but not so much for Angelina.
A jealous pang would run through your bones as you watched your boyfriend whisper in her ear during class and nudge her shoulder exchanging jokes like we had used to do. Our weekend dates ceased to exist seeing as Fred promised to help Angelina with her Quidditch skills every Saturday morning, then go to The Three Broomsticks with George for a Butterbeer. He explained it was for Gryffindor team players only but you weren’t as dumb as he sold you to be. It was obvious Angelina and you had never been the best of friends. Her high headed personality and nose to the sky demeanor turned me away the second you met but she was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. Long silk black hair all down her back. Piercing dark eyes that captivated one in an instant and a strong head. Much like Fred, she had it all.
Although the few exchanges between you two never went down well. A week ago she had ‘forgotten’ to save you a spot at the dinning table between her, Fred, and George so you were forced to take the only open seat beside a group of second years. During break, Angelina, Fred, George, Katie, and you had all planned to attend a concert to one of you mutually loved bands together. You had brought the idea to light, hoping it would stay between yourself, the twins and Katie but someone else caught wind and decided to invite themselves along. Later you heard from Katie that your boyfriend begged Angelina to tag along saying it would be more fun with more people, but your insides twitched at her confession. So the night of the concert you all got together and went out for dinner. Afterwards you walked to the venue and Angelina pulled out all the tickets. She had promised to purchase five and even offered to cover the cost. It seemed too good to be true and you were proven right when the usher scanned your tickets and the Angelina rapidly dug through her purse. She insisted the line up to enter went Fred, her, George, Katie then you and once her fake pout met your eyes it was obvious why. Prior to the date she had failed to remember your ticket and accidently left it on her counter. Although she managed to grab the other four.
Your boyfriend gave no comfort rather so walked into the venue without a second glance. George and Katie skipped the event and stayed with you against the pleas you gave urging them to go have fun. They promised that they didn’t mind but you still felt terrible. George made an oath to make it up to you and took Katie and you out for ice cream. At the end of the night you were close to positive that you had more fun with those two than the others.
That was until you met Fred and Angelina outside the concert ready to head home. Approaching the pair a weight fell on your chest. Your breathing staggered as you saw the sight. Fred was hunched over in deep laughter at a comment Angelina had made as their bodies moved closer towards each other. As you got walked over you noticed the black jacket you had gifted Fred with for his brithday wrapped around her body.
Katie gasped and sent you a warning look. George hurried ahead and struck up a conversation, hoping it would cause them to separate once they realised you were back and the split in two like the red sea. Small talk was shared as an awkwardness settled over. Fred walked towards you and went to plant a kiss to your lips but you dodged it with ease.
He backed away confused though gave up and stayed at George’s side. Breaking the ice, Katie pointed out how it was getting late and her home would be a ten minute walk in the dark for the two of you. Fred and George offered to walk you both to her place but you brushed off their offer and turned on your heel.
Since as you were heading separate paths after the concert Katie bid the others a farewell as you waved behind them and started off in the other direction.
Fred slipped from Angelina’s hold and jogged to catch up with you. You hid the sobs threatening to shine through and listened as he went over the time you two would meet the next day so he could drive you back to the Burrow. You wondered if he was still planning to head home- or if Angelina was accompanying him. Meeting George’s sunken eyes you saw Angelina hailing a taxi and squatting in. The car sped down the street and disappeared around the corner. A sigh of relief unconsciously came and you relaxed in Fred’s arms.
“Hey. Are you alright, sweetheart?” He asked cautiously. You nodded solemnly and reached up to peck his cheek. Katie stood waiting for you and scoffed. Fred gazed at her then back to you.
“Are you still upset about Angelina forgetting your ticket? She really did feel awful about it, love. I did too! But I swear, I’ll make it up to you. I promise, darling.” He stated genuinely. Once again, you nodded. Katie’s hand slipped into yours and pulled you away. George shouted out a ‘goodbye’ but you were too torn to respond. You cried into Katie’s shoulder the whole walk to her home and spilled your guts over a session of rom-coms and pints of ice cream.
You ran through all the possibilities like hurdles trying to figure out where we had gone wrong. Were you overly affectionate? Did you care too much? Did you not care enough? A pathetic feeling washed over you entirely coming to the unanswered conclusion. It was one of the hardest things in the world to watch the person you love slowly slip between your fingertips to someone else. All you wanted was to receive the love you gave and you knew even that was a far off dream.
Shaking myself out of the distant thoughts you quickly threw on the nearest jacket you could find in the storm of clothes and rushed out the dorm room. Sunday mornings were your favorite time of the week. Saturday was spent standing out in the freezing cold rain until the lights had darken waiting for the match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor to finish. Gryffindor had won luckily, Harry caught the snitch in the most needed moments as he seemed to be best at doing, and the party in the Gryffindor tower carried on long past the sun rising. Fred and you had been planning on going to Zonko’s early evening and swinging by Honeydukes as well for some sweets. You had ran the plans past him again the night before to which he happily verified making your insides swell with excitement.
Skipping down the winding stone steps you entered in the hug like warmth of the main hangout of the tower. The room was fairly clear for the time but you assumed most were either still in bed or already taking on the day. You scanned the room looking for Fred. In less than a minute you spotted the backside his fiery red hair poking out between students. Rushing over to him you tied your house scarf tightly around your neck and buttoned up the thick jacket ready to face the cold.
“Fred, are you ready to go?” Finally reaching him, you found Fred staring out the window of the main glass. He turned around swiftly and chuckled softly. Sighing to myself, you mentally face palmed and worked out a quick apology.
“Sorry, George. From the back there you looked like your brother.” You admitted sheepishly. George batted his hand as a sign of disregard.
“No worries, love. Happens all the time.” Ironically enough you were not one to mix up the twins. Not that you always got them straight but you knew the difference from your handsome boyfriend from his identical twin.
“Do you know where your brother is? We’re suppose to be heading out to Zonko’s for the Hogsmeade trip. I swore we agreed to meet here…” There wasn’t a single other red head in the room beside George but your eyes searched for him anyways. Harry Potter, Ron, and Seamus huddled around the skyscraper like door. They were dressed ready to face the winter air seem to attend the trip to Hogsmeade as well. You looked back to find George’s face in a set scowl, sorting through all the locations his brother could be without letting him in on it. Noticing your suppressed mood his orbs flickered over your frame.
George followed your gaze to the door and pointed over to his younger brother,
“Here, I’ll go ask Ron if he’s seen Fred around.” George placed his hand on your shoulder and gave you a reassuring squeeze as if to say it would be alright. You gave him a tight smile and sat down in the red velvet chair. The setup of the Gryffindor common room was by far your favorite space inside the castle. The luscious red silk curtain flowed in the breeze shoving through the open windows encasing your bundled up self in a cold chaste kiss. You were thankful for the scarf hugging your neck that killed the shivers before they could begin.
But out of all the accessories in the homey environment, the most heart dearing had to be the gorgeous art pieces prompt against the walls. At least ten painting, large and small, were hung on the walls of the common room. All held different stories as well as different originations. Each was loved by you for numerous reasons.
A glass shattering gasp broke the silence in a sudden commotion, capturing your fleeting attention. You were in the background of the episode, standing on the outside looking in as your head whipped to the scene unfolding behind you. What you found surprised you a bit. All four boys had their ears pushed up against the door and their mouths hanging near the floor.
Hermione set her book down on the couch, curiosity poisoning her mind. Her eyes fixed on the boys who were attempting to cover their obvious incident. Hermione glanced at you wordlessly asking who should investigate first. You shook your head stiffly letting her control the situation. She pushed herself to Ron’s back and worked on moving around him. Once she broke in her actions were rash.
Her whispers were hushed as Harry informed her of what was happening. A flame sparked in her eyes and she cracked the door open and peeked out. You watched intently, almost sprinting over when she leaned up against the wood with a ghost pale demeanor.
“Oh my god.” She muttered . You stood up from her words and pivoted around the coffee table holding a handful of Quidditch magazines and coupons for sweet shops. You made a mental note to remember to cut out the bogo deal after you joined in the madness.
“Y/n, no.” Hermione shouted. You flinched in your spot taken aback by her bark. What had you done? The brown haired girl shook her head like a bobble head and directed you towards the staircase.
“I totally forgot! I uh- I needed your help!” Her hands sneaked to your shoulder and turned you around. She led you to the steps leaving you flabbergasted.
“My help? With what?” You asked breaking from her hold. Ron, Harry, and Seamus shifted awkwardly but George stood still as a statue. His eyes were glossed with sorrow and a pang of hurt.
“Planning a um, no er, homework!” Hermione giggled but you could hear the nervousness. You stepped back and sent her a feature of disbelief. What was she working so hard to hide?
“You, Hermione Granger, need my help with your school work?” You saw straight through her lie as you clenched your teeth.
“Yes and lots of it!” Hermione nodded eagerly and reached for your hand. You pulled away and glared at her. Hurt seeked the air and Hermione stepped down from the battle. Her heart thumped feverishly against her rib cage. She was lost for solution, wanting to protect you but not wanting to lie at the same time.
George walked towards you leaving the pestering door alone. He shook his head and glanced down at you with sad eyes.
“Y/n-” He stopped short and instead moved to the side, letting the pathway to the door become clear. Tilting your head up to him you waiting for a warning of some sort but he refused to meet your eyes.
Ron, Harry and Seamus glued their gaze to the ground making a weavering feeling sink in your heart.
With a shaky hand you reached out for the door and grasped the handle. Taking a moment to yourself you tried to prepare yourself for what you would find. It seemed to have dramatically shocked your friends so what effect would it have on you?
Twisting the knob to the right you swung the door open wide and examined the outer platform. Much looked normal. The staircases were moving as usual, the portraits chatting though more so whispering. Their fingers pointed towards a pair of students at the bottom of the stairwell. They were sharing a passionate kiss- well more like a messy make out session. You cringed in disgust and went to close the door. Well that was until you saw a head of red hair from the corner of your eye. Stepping back into the hall you probed the pair again, this time more closely.
The girl had faire dark skin and a smooth head of jet black hair. Her fingers roamed freely in the tall boys hair, exploring every inch undetected. She was beautiful and you recognized her immediately after a second glance. But that wasn’t what shattered your inside. What really broke you was the boy she was all over.
He kissed her with a new found love and melting aggression. He had her pushed up against the brick wall and his hand itching dangerously close under her Gryffindor shirt. Pulling back you took in the plump to his lips and the lipstick smeared across his cheek. The boy smirks devilishly then dove back in sweeping her away in another drowning kiss.
A sob choked out as your body crumbled to the floor. Your insides were crushed in a death-like grip. You knew things were going down hill but the show out in front of you was not what you were expecting.
Tears streamed like a river along your cheeks and splashed onto the denim of your jeans staining them. The two detached to search for the source of the noise. Fred Weasley dropped his hand from Angelina Johnson and look up at the open portrait and the image of his girlfriend torn into millions of unfixable shards.
“Shit…” Fred ignored Angelina’s protest for him to stay and skipped up the stone steps. He paused momentarily thinking out his actions for the first time in a month. He bent down and went to touch your shoulder but you shoved him away.
“Don’t touch me.” A eerie deadness entered in the common room. Your skin was practically crawling in disdain and repugnance. The mental image of Fred latched onto Angelina burned your memory. Her manicured fingers scraping against his skull, her mouth sewed on one to his. Tear pinched at the sockets and your chest heaved with betrayal.
Hermione and the rest inched near their designated dormitory stairs. You couldn’t blame them. Truthfully you prayed they’d make it out before the storm erupted.
Angelina’s beedy eyes shot daggers at your shaking self. Anger was bubbling above the surface and you knew the eruption was only seconds away.
She had no right to give you such an incredulous look. Had she forgotten she was the other woman? Had she failed to realize Fred was cheating on you, had spoiled a beautiful relationship, by being with her? Did she not care about the shredded loneliness you felt inside? She broke you- but most of all Fred broke you and he made no move to direct her out.
“Y/n please just hear me out. I never intended for this to happen-” The calm before the storm had ceased as your head whipped around to glare at the man you once loved. His stupid, once adorable, face seemed panicked and fearful. An expression you oh so desperately wanted to smack right off.
“What, our friends and I catching you in the act or you making out with another girl while you’re dating someone else. Five years, Fred! We’ve been together for five years!” The shriek of brokenness cut the air clean open. Trails of tears streaked your warm cheeks as an eruption of anger bubbled inside.
Your soul was empty- tainted by his scandalous actions.
“I’m sorry, Y/n. I truly am but I couldn’t help it.” Fred’s voice fell an octave low, “I love her.”
His words struck you like a bolt of lightning. Your bones shook in shock, heart thumping dangerously and nerves rising.
“You what?” For a second, you held no trust in your own voice to choke out the phrase. How could things change so fast between the two of you? You studied Fred, unsure of what to think.
“I love Angelina and I have… for a long time. I’m sorry for lying to you and cheating on you but I wasn’t happy.” He explained sorrowfully. It was not hard to hear the regret filling his confession and you were an idiot to think he felt regret for falling in love with her. Fred took pity in stringing you along, not for crushing you whole.
Raking your shaky hand alongs the strands of your h//c hair, you slipped out a striking scoff.
“Then why didn’t you say something! You’ve broken my heart you asshole!”
“Y/n, it would’ve hurt either way. Just think of this as a new start! Don’t you want Fred to be happy-” Angelina freaking Johnson was the last person on the whole planet that you wanted to hear from. Just the sight of her churned your stomach and left a bitter taste in your mouth. With tear stained red eyes you pointed at her and shook your head, silencing the girl.
“You shut the hell up. You know nothing about us so stay out of this. And you-” The venom was still pouring as you turned back to Fred, “You think you were sparing my feelings? How thoughtful of you.” Sarcasm was evident as you went to leave. You felt emotionally exhausted wanting to crawl into your bed and cry yourself to sleep. Everything hurt; your head, your chest, your heart, your body, everything. It was like you had barely survived a train crash- nothing was normal anymore.
Fred’s eyes refused to meet yours, he was far too ashamed to see the sadness creeping on your face. Instead of waiting for a reply you took matters into your own hands. Pivoting on your back heel, you walked away from the pain. Every step hurt more than the one before but you couldn’t stick around to hear anymore of his excuses.
“I’ll drop your stuff off with George in the morning. Just know, I don’t ever want to speak to you again- either of you. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
Fred wasn’t sure if the last part was directed at you or the flushed girl beside him. Either way, he was crumbling like a building made of pebbles. His heart was screaming at him to follow you, to apologize and beg for your forgiveness but he knew that wouldn’t change anything. His feelings would still be the same and he owed you more than that. Cutting a beautiful soul like you from his life was going to hurt but lying to you and giving you false hope was worse. Salt in the wound, nonetheless.
“Y/n…”
“Don’t. You made our friends play in your little games and have ruined any happy memory we ever made. You mean nothing to me and I hope one day someone breaks your heart like you have mine.” You shot back. Sure, it was harsh. Who could blame you?
“And you-” A deadly finger pointed at the group of your supposed friends, “You are all just as bad as him. I bet the lot of you are enjoying the embarrassment I’m facing because of this. What kind of friends are you?” The words cut like freshly sharpened daggers, tearing through their flesh and bones.
Not giving the pair another second of your time, you exited the room promptly with a hole in your heart. You silently passed by your so-called friends that helped cover for your cheating boyfriend- ex boyfriend. They sent a glance of pity, not that it helped ease the damage. Friends don’t lie and that was exactly what they did to you. Shaking your head, you left the scene and locked yourself away in your dorm room creating wet tear stains on your pillow case.
In your absence, the group shared a knowing look of guilt, the weight of their actions finally settling in. Their motive was never to see you hurt, but somehow along the way, they lost sight of that. At that moment, George couldn’t bring himself to meet the gaze of his twin flame. His chest felt tight from the pain he casted second hand on you. There were so many chances he had to fill you in on the rendezvous his brother and Angelina were partaking in, so why didn’t he?
Part of George, and the rest of the group, knew they did it to protect Fred. In doing so, they destroyed you. It was a lose-lose situation and no one came out looking dapper.
Hermione rushed after you, ignoring the calls of her friends. Out of your friends, Hermione held the most culpability in herself. In her eyes, she played her hand in causing you pain and she had never felt less of a woman than in those moments of realization. Why hadn’t she told you sooner? She knew her duties as a best friend and completely disregarded them in order to keep another friend safe. Her stomach was twisted in tight coils as she dashed up the girl’s dormitory stairs in search of you.
Much like yourself, Fred spent the night with tear stained cheeks and a broken heart for hurting someone so innocent as yourself that showed him nothing but love and kindness.
When the sun broke through the curtains that next morning, nothing felt normal. Your eyes cracked open from the warm ray of sun shining in from the window and cascading over your frame. Not even the mountain of blankets you slept under could bring you warmth and comfort, it was all snatched away from you without so much as a warning.
Sleep was ignored until the early hours of the morning as you spent a rather large sum of the night sobbing on your roommates shoulder as she consoled you. Katie had her suspicions on the pair, unlike your other friends, she never hesitated to vocalize her distain towards the ‘friendship’ between Fred and Angelina. Practically dating your ex boyfriend’s twin had put her in a difficult position on when to speak up. As she held you crying form as the two of you laid together in her bed, the answer was clear. Protecting Fred never came close to protecting you. Katie only wished she’d been there to witness the chaos so she could deliver a swift punch to the both of them.
The night finally ended with Katie dragging your body to your side of the room, and cuddling until you fell asleep. Although she’d never admit it to you, seeing as you were the one in need of support, her heart hurt for many reasons. One, you were her closest friend, nearly a sister at this point and it hurt her to see you so broken. The other reasoning fell upon her budding relationship with George Weasley. It enraged her to know George was aware of this and failed to inform her as well. It was likely he knew Katie would rat Fred out the second she heard, but the surge of hurt that coarse through her body was unable to feel sympathy for any soul that played a role in lying to her friend.
The alarm clock on the nightstand read eleven and with the crying session you performed the night prior, it was no surprise your mind longed for the extra hours of rest. The thought crossed your mind, maybe it was all some sort of sick nightmare? Maybe you’d made the whole thing up? Although the small white parchment sticking out from under your door said different.
A small part of you hoped it was Fred who had left the note. Of course a written apology was nowhere near enough, but you still held out. Sadly, the blue ink held a different story as you realized it had been Hermione who wrote out to you. She tried to string together the perfect words to ease your distress, found the perfect phrases to comfort a friend going through heartbreak, though it all felt fraudulent.
She ended the letter explaining how ‘messed up’ Fred was after you had stormed out, and how he was willing to do whatever it would take to win her back- as a friend that is. In the same sentence, she expressed her disdain and frustration at your ex for what he did to you. As your friend, you scoffed at her words as she shamelessly attempted to lighten the anger you were experiencing towards Fred. It was clear she meant her words to bring you consolation and solace, but fell immensely short in meaning.
You refused to be like the other girls you watched who would crawl back pride-less to their cheating boyfriends, begging them to take them back. Especially to a man who publicly declared he wasn’t in love with you anymore, and in front of your shared friends too. It wasn’t the type of girl you were. The love you held for Fred burned passionately, though the events of the previous night diminished that flame and you weren’t ready to relight it.
The connection you obtained through your friendships were a bit different. Your anger was still large and atbay, however, you were willing to hear them out and at least see if there was a possibility for rebuilding your trust in your friends. Time was the magical key to this process and all you desired was to turn that key and jump forward a year. That’s the shitty part about life, and heartbreak. There is no way to speed the healing time, no remedy for the aches inside of you, and no instant gratification of love from the person who so casually tore your heart into shreds. Time would tell, and that was all you could do, wait.
Prompt:getting drunk w/ your boyfriend Fred would include + mini blurbs
Warning:drinking, swearing, and some suggestive wording
Word Count: 2.2k
Notes:n/a
Parties are not an uncommon event in the Gryffindor common room
Alcohol and drink mixtures of all sorts are being poured left and right every weekend
Most weekend you have a drink or two while catching up with your friends after a busy week of school
Other weekends you choose the path of getting plastered alongside your boyfriend off smuggled liquor and bottle of beer
On these night in particular,
Fred does not let you out of his sight
At all
Unless of course Lee challenges him to a beer pong match then he’ll carefully usher you over the couch where he can keep an eye on you while he’s playing
Has to pause the match like 20 times to chase after you and lead you over to his side “Y/n! You know you can’t out drink Seamus- he’s Irish! C’mon, come watch me kick George and Lee’s ass. They’re so bad it takes two of them to even manage a winning shot yet somehow they still suck!”
Loves it when you cheer him on
Is constantly glancing over to reassure himself you haven’t run off again
Your distraction is heightened in this state
So he feels the need to be your second set of eyes
Which had come in handy many a times
Like when Ron dared you to touch the burning fire while he was wasted on dragon barrel brandy
“Don’t be a pussy, Y/n. Swipe your hand real fast and you won’t even feel a thing-” “Y/n, pull your hand away from that fire, love. Ron, what the fuck? Are you trying to set my girlfriend up in flames? Angel, Ron is an idiot, you know that, don’t do anything he says again.” “Hey!”
And the time when you all were playing strip poker and Fred quite literally threw himself on top of your body to cover your chest when George teased you to take your bra off and your hands reached back for the clasps
(( he bitched at George for five minutes straight for that suggestion ))
Fred knew you were not one to back down from a challenge, especially when drunk and not considering the consequences or regret that would follow
So he always made sure you never embarrassed yourself too much or did anything you’d be wanting to take back come morning
During any Gryffindor party, Fred is the life of it
When he’s not preoccupied fawning over you, he’s hopping around with George seeking out trouble
The man throws back liquor like its water
Claims he knows his limits, but he really doesn’t
He is a touchy drunk
Hands brushing through your hair as you chat on the couch
Arms wrapped around your shoulder as you laugh along with your friends
Fingers laced in yours whenever you’re near
He craves your touch even more so when the liquor taints his veins
Let’s be real, Fred is not exactly the type of boyfriend to try to get you to stop drinking
He still makes sure you’re safe and not over drinking but,
Most of the times,
He’s the one pouring the shots for you
And mixing the drinks
But he always knows when to stop, and when you’ve had enough to drink
He tries to mentally keep note of how many drinks you’ve had but loses track once he reaches about five on his own end
Sometimes he’ll silently swap out your glass of whiskey for a glass of pumpkin juice
It’s obvious to Fred that he made the right choice when he watched as you sipped gleefully on the juice, not making a single comment on the dramatic change in taste
In these moments he begins to prepare himself for a night of babysitting you
And he’s so sweet in helping you on the nights when you go an inch- or ten- overboard
Carries you up to your bed and helps you change out of your clothes and into new ones for bed
He gets you wipes to take of your makeup, if you’re wearing any, and he’ll sit you between his legs on your bed while he brushes through your hair
After you’re properly ready for bed, Fred makes sure to set a glass of water on your nightstand incase you get thirsty and a bag of crackers if you get hungry
Stays the night without question when you ask
Other times he stays regardless of if you do or don’t
Your roommates don’t mind seeing as he takes care of you meaning they don’t have to
He’ll lay on his back and usher you over to place you head on his chest
His fingertips will soothingly trail up and down you back, lulling you into a deep sleep with the rhythmic motion
Tries his best to make sure you fall asleep first
Drunk Fred really has no control over his sleep habits and has a tendency to pass out from sudden exhaustion at any moment
One second him and George are fucking around with partygoers, supply them with different products of theirs, and causing pure chaos
The next second Fred was snoozing away while he laid on the couch with his head in your lap
Then he was back up an going again
Like a toddler on a sugar high
He’s such a giggly drunk
Kisses to the tip of your nose
Always smiling over at you and complimenting you
“Have I told you how breathtaking you look tonight?” “Only ten times, but I’m okay with elven.” “Let’s make it twelve, you looks absolutely stunning- so pretty, and all mine.”
The boy can’t help it, you make him feel weightless with happiness sober and the feeling only intensifies when he’s been drinking
There are nights when Fred can’t seem to taste the scorching burn of the liquor anymore after about six shots and it these nights where George and yourself are left dragging him up the stairs
George will beg you to stay the night because he can’t handle Fred’s drunken rambling about how much he misses you
And you agree because, how could you say no to Fred’s adorable puppy dog eyes and grabby hands longing for you to cuddle with him
If you two are both drunk, you’ll stay up talking- or rather whispering- under his comforter
He’ll stumble over his words and jumps from topic to topic in the blink of an eye
Uncontrollable giggles as he whispers- or rather stutters- out the most confusing jokes you’ve ever heard
Like
“Angel, angel…” “Yes, Freddie?” “What happens when a toad’s car breaks down?” “I dunno…” “It gets froged!” “I’m sorry, come again? Isn’t it meant to be the frog’s car that breaks down and it gets ‘toad’…not ‘froged’?”
But he’s out like a light before you can get an explanation
He breathes like darth vader when he’s in his drunken slumber
Yet its somehow comforting in an odd way
Like it reminds you that he’s there holding you
And also that he’s still alive, which is surprising at times with the amount of drinks he consumes in one night
If you think Fred acts reckless sober, he thinks he’s invincible when he’s drunk which is even worse
He’ll agree to almost anything
If Ron were to tell him he bet Fred wouldn’t jump from the Astrology Tower all the way down to the courtyard? Fred would do it just in spite of him
The only time this attitude of his had gotten him into trouble was when Fred, George and Lee came up with the grand idea to go down the boy’s dormitory staircase on mattresses
Fred, being the brilliant man he is, decided to go first
You had been gossiping away in the common room to Hermione about a new Muggle actor the two of you had seen in a film when you heard the loud crashing, followed by the voice you loved so much groaning in agony
By the time you reached the opening to the stairwell, George and Lee were aiding Fred down the stone steps, carefully avoiding his ankle which had been twisted in an inhuman position
Madam Pomfrey surprisingly kept hum about Fred’s intoxication and instead scolded him for hours on end about his reckless, mindless choice to try to slide down, winding, steep, stone steps
Once news reached the professors the nest morning, McGoagall dismissed 40 points from Gryffindor for the incident
Using your mattress to surf down the twirling stairwell has since been prohibited
On a separate occasion Fred had accident lit the edge of the curtain on fire
You can always tell when he’s reached that level by the volume in his tone
It tends to get deeper the more intoxicated he becomes
And his words slowly slur together into a string of blabber
Mostly compliments, sweet words, and sometimes suggestive ones as well
Fred gets a bit more… forward when he’s got that liquid courage soaring through him
His hands will start to roam slowly from around your waist to your lower back, then resting on your bum
He gets turned on watching you play beer pong for some reason
Especially when you win
Maybe it’s the view he’s graced with when you bend to bounce the pin pong ball
Or the feistiness that arises when the match gets hot
It’s more than enticing for him
Fred can feel his frame get stiffer everytime you bend across the table to retrieve the cup and chug the beer from it
When the round has ceased and you’re declared champion yet again, Fred steps forward to pull you in for a hug
As he gives you a kiss on the cheek, he whispers,
“Good girl! Now if you beat George again I’ll give you a special surprise later tonight, angel.”
Which makes your knees weak like jell-o as your frame pushes into his for support
It doesn’t help that you can feel just how excited he is through the denim of his jeans
Fred dips his head to plant a trail of wet, teasing kisses along the skin of your warm neck until George was groaning and pleading for you to start the match
You practically shook for the entirety of the game, still managing to sink almost every shot into a cup forcing George to drink for the majority of it
He ended up tapping out once you nailed the seventh cup in a row and kept your winning streak alive due to his need to find a trash can immediately
You stopped there to join Fred by his side as he smiled to you, clearly pleased that you won
“Looks like someone is getting rewarded tonight.”
His arm draped around your shoulder as you leaned into his side, your cheeks flaring from the mass of bodies but mostly from Fred’s suggestive promise
He only forced you to suffer through the party for another ten minutes or so before pouring one last shot for the both of you, then nearly pushing you up the winding stairs to his dorm
Lets just say he certainly fulfilled on his promise- more than once that night
Loves it when you sit in his lap when you’re on the couch together
Whispers dirty secrets into your ear
Drunk Fred leaves hickies under the clothes
He’s not the type to care who’s around, he’ll try to slide his hand up your skirt in front of nearly anyone when he’s inebriated
“Fred- you’re brother is sitting right there, stop it!” “Shhhh, angel. He’s not even watching, right George?” “Right, Fred.” “See?”
To which you glare dangerous at him as you place his hand back in his lap, but Fred continues to smirk in amusement
It’s like you’re a preschool teacher constantly having to tell a child to keep their hands to themselves, Fred just refuses to listen
Fred doesn’t necessarily get jealous of other guys
He trusts you and he’s confident enough in your relationship not to feel threatened by other guys
However he is possessive af over you when he’s been drinking
In a sweet way tho
Literally wants all your time and attention when he’s drunk
If you don’t feel like dancing, he’ll ask you to come watch him dance
When you say you need to use the bathroom, he’ll ask a million times if you want him to come with
If George places a bet against Fred in a game of cards, Fred will drag you over to sit next to him as Seamus shuffles the deck and prepares the table
He’ll show you his cards and tell you to pick one
Even though he knows you’re completely unaware of the rules to the game, he loves the smile of excitement that appears on your face when he lets you
And in the rare times that you do say no, he works his magic with those big doe eyes and pouty lip until you say yes
It brings him comfort when you’re by his side
Your nights end the same each day, wrapped in his arms listening to the relaxing thump of his heart as the two of you doze off, both silently dreading the awaiting hangover than would surely greet you first thing in the morning, but you wouldn’t want it any other way
“There comes a time in your life when you have to choose to turn the page, write another book or simply close it.” - Shannon L. Alder
warnings:none
Y/N stared at the card George Weasley had gotten for Christmas, a pressuring weighing on her chest. He wrote a note, sloppily but filled with thought, and attached to a parcel that weighed more than the owl that delivered it. She had hardly spoken to George since she had hurriedly handed him her Christmas gift for him after he had admitted he was smitten with Angelina.
She hated to admit it, but before him telling her about Angelina, a small part of her thought George had been interested in her. She had assumed that the jokes and nudges in potions were George’s subtle way of flirting with her. But, there was nothing that Y/N hated to admit more than the pressure on her chest and the butterflies from seeing his handwriting meant only one thing. She was once again prey to the unrequited love cupid.
“Stupid Cupid,” Y/N mumbled, running her fingers along the edge of the poorly wrapped parcel. It only took a minute to open the small gift, and buried deep in the periwinkle tissue paper laid a solid metal statue of a newt. It was such a simple and slightly homely statue that was a nod to their favorite inside joke; it was so silly and unromantic that Y/N wanted to laugh and cry at once.
It was so hard for Y/N to not hold the statue to her heart and wonder if George’s feelings for Angelina had changed- if laughing at one of Y/N’s jokes had made George pause and wonder what it would be like to be smitten with Y/N rather than Angelina. It felt impossible to run her hands over the metal gift and not hope that George had excitedly wrapped it with butterflies in his stomach, riddled with anxiety about whether Y/N would like it. George, of course, didn’t do that- Y/N did when she was wrapping George’s gift.
Y/N was the one who drafted the card to George nearly a dozen times, trying to keep the tone of the card cheery, friendly, and maybe just a tad teasingly flirty. Y/N was the one who had carefully folded a set of origami ornaments and wrapped it with so many feelings it was practically beaming a lovesick pink when George opened it. She is always the one overloaded with feelings while the other is always either unaware or unresponsive.
“Dear potions ruiner,” Y/N started, the card shaking in her hands. “My mum loves the ornaments you made so much that she forced me to put them on the tree. She doesn’t even get the inside joke (the one about you ruining our aging potions by adding too much newt). But in the spirit of Christmas, I loaned them to the Weasley family tree. Anyway, thanks for being a great friend, and I’ll see you in the new year. George Weasley.”
Y/N stared at the note- there was no ‘with love, George Weasley.’ There wasn’t a confession of love. It wasn’t anything she would have daydreamed about; it was just a bucket of ice.
“I swore I wouldn’t do this again,” Y/N reprimanded, dropping the card.
It wasn’t George’s fault- Y/N knew that. She hadn’t mentioned anything to him, and it all went so fast, by the time she had processed how she felt, he was telling her about Angelina. When she looked back, it was too quick and blurry.
“It’s your fault,” Y/N reminded, pushing the metal statue to the corner of her bedside table where origami flowers hid the newt.
It wasn’t Angelina’s fault either- Y/N begrudgingly knew that too. Angelina hardly even knew that George and Y/N were friends, much less the character of Y/N’s poorly-written telenovela. Not to mention that she wasn’t a miserable person. No, she was kind, charming, and made George Weasley stupid in the way boys get around pretty girls.
“It’s me- I’m the common denominator,” Y/N rambled, her eyes starting to sting. “I mean, who is always the one left crying in their room? Who is the one who spent years on Oliver Wood? Who spends hours daydreaming about an alternate reality where I’m wanted back? Me. It’s me. It’s always me wishing that something will change in my favor.”
It felt suffocating, the feelings for all the boys she had daydreamed about, worriedly wrapped presents for, secretly and not-so-secretly liked. She wanted nothing more than for the late-night conversations with George to be the turning point she fantasized about. Yet, deep down, she knew the truth. It was going to end as the others had- in heartbreak.
