Sylvia felt as if she was walking on air when she returned to the common room that night. They figured if she always left or returned first, no one would think anything of it. The common room was empty anyways, the crackle of the dying fire the only sound besides the distant voices upstairs. Normally, the warmth would be a welcomed relief from the biting temperatures outside, but she was burning. Her cheeks were red beneath her freckles, and she could see the same in Fred's face when he walked in.
She began to walk towards the stairs to the girls' dorms when she was pulled back. Fred's hand snaked around her forearm and up to her bicep, gripping exactly the same spot Quinten had. But he was so gentle with her. His thumb rubbed back and forth against her sweater and he pulled her into a kiss. And when they parted, he gave her one last peck, and another.
Sylvia smiled and leaned back as he placed kiss after kiss on her lips, but he pulled her back again and held her against his chest, pecking and pecking at her lips and cheeks.
"What are you doing?" She giggled, letting him place kisses all over her face.
"I can't stop." He laughed back, burying his face into the crook of her neck and wrapping his arms around her waist.
She stood on her toes and wrapped her own arms around his neck, feeling the heat of his breath and lips against her skin as he moved to trail little kisses up her neck and jaw. When he finally pulled himself away, he lifted a hand from her waist to brush a strand of hair from her forehead.
"Goodnight." He stated, but didn't let go of her.
"Goodnight." She whispered back, arms still around his neck.
The phonograph scratched and bumped as Filtch placed a needle down on the spinning record. Mrs. Norris blinked contentedly and flicked her bushy tail as he fiddled with the machine. Sylvia, sitting on the far right end of the bleachers by Angelina, leaned back in her seat against Alicia's knees, watching mindlessly as McGonagall clasped her hands together and addressed either side of the room.
"The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since its inception."
She walked down the center of the room, looking between the Gryffindor boys and girls with a serious expression.
"On Christmas Eve night, we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well mannered frivolity. As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward -- and I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is, first and foremost, a dance."
The girl's side of the room defended into a flurry of excited whispers and grins as the boy's side groaned collectively. Angelina spun to face Sylvia and grinned.
"I told you!"
McGonagall raised her hands.
"Silence! The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly ten centuries."
Sylvia blew a puff of air out her nose as she continued.
"I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling, band of baboons!"
Across the room, George waisted no time in whispering to Fred and, even with the distance between them, Sylvia could tell they were mocking McGonagall's alliteration. She smirked at them, crossing her arms over her chest as Fred turned and caught her eye.
"Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth and take flight!" McGonagall threw her arms out to the girls.
Fred looked at Sylvia through raised eyebrows, nodding sarcastically.
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Bad Decisions | Fred Weasley
Fanfiction"We were together. I forget the rest." Fred didn't like her. In fact, he had decided, first year, that he despised her. Despised is a strong word and he meant every bit of it when he told her to her face. ••• An inspired playlist: https://youtube.co...
