Isn't He Lovely • A Fred Weasley Story

a m a t ch

We get back from a fun day at Hogsmeade around three o'clock, our noses pink from the cold and feet tired from walking.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, the twins and I still have about an hour until the Quidditch match, so we decide to hang out in the common room to relax before having to get back out there again.

As our group is walking toward the moving staircases, we pass by Malfoy and his pompous friends.

I'm following behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione, my hand wrapped in Fred's as we walk. I hear Malfoy start to talk to Harry and Ron as they pass, Draco not noticing Fred and I yet.

"Say, Potter," he scoffs cockily, "think your team's gonna be able to make it through this match against Hufflepuff without precious little Baker taking a tumble?"

"Just ignore him, guys," Hermione mutters to Ron and Harry as Fred and I come into Draco and his friends' view.

As soon as I walk past Draco with Fred by my side, Draco's eyes fall on mine and his face drops. I watch as he swallows hard and grabs one of his friend's arms, muttering something and pulling him the other direction as the rest of his group follows.

We keep walking past them before Fred lets out a chuckle. "I think he might have been in the Three Broomsticks today."

I grin to myself as we keep walking, feeling a surge of confidence.

We get to the common room, Ron and Harry running up to the boys' dorm to dress for Quidditch. Fred and I walk to the couch as Hermione gets to work reading a textbook at the table.

Fred sits on one end of the couch and I lie down on my back, resting my head in his lap. I let out a breath as students around us take off their coats and such, settling into the coziness of the common room. I gaze at the patterns on the ceiling as Fred runs his fingers through my hair.

"You know, me being at the Burrow this Christmas is going to be so different this year," I say softly as my eyes flutter closed. I feel his hands gently run through the soft strands of my hair, sending a tingly feeling through my scalp.

"Yeah, but that's what'll make it so great," Fred says, and I smile.

"Do you..." I start, before quietly continuing, "do you think your mother will be... alright with..."

"Are you kidding me, Baker?" Fred interrupts, softly laughing. I open my eyes and see his gentle gaze on me. "My mum wishes she could legally adopt you."

I grin and blush. "So she'll be okay with... this?"

"She'll be a whole lot more than okay with it, darling," he says, smiling. "I know it."

We sit for a few more moments, quietly talking, before I reluctantly pull up from his lap and insist we get ready for the match.

I feel a small wave of butterflies as I think about it, which I always feel before a sports game. Even before football, I've had the mixed feeling of nerves and excitement before getting out there on the field.

Before I know it, my Gryffindor team and I are standing in the changing rooms as the field fills with people.

Harry is pacing in front of us, pointing at a chalkboard as we sit on the benches and listen. I'm seated next to Fred, leaning forward and resting my chin in my hand as I attentively listen to Harry's strategy explanations.

Fred leans over and says softly in my ear, "how is it possible that you pull off even these tattered jerseys?"

I roll my eyes, smirking before whispering back. "Quit it, Freddie, I'm trying to pay attention here."