fleeting | fred weasley

five | people like me

fleeting, a fred weasley fanfic

five: people like me

...

June 25, 1996

 If a muggle were to see it, they would've thought they lost their minds. Fred Weasley tried to shake off the effects of apparating from his system, to no avail. It was hard, trying to ease himself into feeling normalcy once again. No one could blame him as those who were not used to travelling by apparition held onto each other as they steadied themselves back on the steady concrete. Their bodies felt like it was stretched out and forced through a tube going millions of miles an hour, and though the feeling only lasted a few seconds, it was enough to have them briefly losing their grip on reality. It's strange honestly, going from one place to another in a matter of seconds, feeling a certain amount of pain one minute then feeling absolutely nothing the next.

But Fred Weasley knew that feeling all too well, how he could feel everything so intensely, then suddenly, nothing at all. He sighed, letting his fingertips lightly graze the soft material of the scarf that loosely hung around his shoulders, reacquainting himself with the familiar surroundings.

12 Grimmauld Place looked like it always did, pushing aside houses 11 and 13 at the arrival of wizards who knew of its location. The worn out front steps, along with the rest of the house, clearly needed some form of upkeeping or refurbishment as the pain and bricks seemed much dirtier than that of its neighbors. They were wary of course, climbing up the steps to the front door, stepping back in shock as it opened on its own — despite the fact that they were wizards themselves, and this was all done with magic. The battered front door didn't even look like one, no keyholes or handles, only a silver knocker in the shape of serpent. It was a much colder, somewhat scarier welcome than the one they were used to at the burrow, especially with the loud, clanging sound that acted as the doorbell — indicating their presence to those who have already arrived and settled themselves inside the house.

There weren't that many people milling about, most of them they were already familiar with, having met them through the Order. Fred Weasley immediately feel is blood run colder the second he stepped foot inside, the door opening to a long hallway and a grandiose chandelier. Goosebumps seemed to cover his exposed skin as he felt multiple eyes on him, from the portraits that hung on the wall in intricate gold and wooden frames and other members of the order. He looked down at his feet, shuffling to the side as the rest of his family entered. Fred pretended not to hear their whispers, pretended not to see their pitying looks as they directed their words at him.

"That Weasley boy, isn't he..."

"Yes, that poor girl's boyfriend."

"Oh, Merlin. I hope he's doing alright."

"Doesn't seem like it. Poor lad looks like he hasn't eaten or slept in days."

Fred's jaw clenched as he overheard their conversation, keeping his fists to his side in attempt to keep his cool. But it clearly wasn't working. His knuckles threatened to turn white at how tightly he closed his fists, blood rushed to his cheeks, slowly turning the lightest shade of red. He opened his mouth to speak when he felt a hand on his shoulder, heavy — as if it was gripping him, holding onto him as tight as one could. Fred looked up to see George, who slightly shook his head and reminded him to relax. "Cass wouldn't want you to do anything. Take a deep breath, Freddie."

Fred rolled his eyes and shrugged his brother's hand off his shoulders, but he knew he was right. There was no point in trying to argue, not when it would prove or do absolutely nothing. If anything, it would only cause a fight — and that was the last thing he wanted on a day like this. Fred looked around to see that it was only him and George by the entrance, with a raise eyebrow, he asked, "Where are mum and dad?"

George tilted his head to the direction of the dining room, where light snacks and refreshments were served to the guests. Fred and his brother entered to find Molly and Arthur talking to Cass' parents, Sirius and Arabella.

Fred almost gasped, feeling his breath get caught in his throat and a chill creep up in his spine. It was like looking in the mirror.

Sirius and Arabella both looked like they haven't slept in ages. Dark circles and heavy bags plagued underneath their eyes. They seemed paler, thinner, and overall more sickly compared to the last time he saw them — though it wasn't too long ago. Both of them also seemed to lose the warmness in their aura. Sure, they smiled and greeted their guests, but most everyone knew it was just a front. Their guests knew that the minute they leave, the door shut from the outside world — when they are sure that they are alone — the facade breaks. Both Sirius and Arabella were dressed beautifully, in dark suits that seemed perfectly tailored around their body, but not even the most expensive of outfits could hide the inner turmoil they clearly felt. The light has left their eyes, their voices shook and wavered every now and then, grabbing onto the other's when either of them noticed that they were getting restless.

If anybody could understand what Fred felt, it would be them. In fact, they certainly felt in more intensely — having lost their daughter in a fight that was not meant to be her own.

Fred felt his heart sink at the sight of the two, as he made his way over, overhearing part of the conversation they had with his parents.

"I'm so sorry for your loss." Arthur said, fidgeting with his fingers, anyone who listened in could tell he was sincere in the softness of his tone. "If there's anything we could do, please let us know."

"I'm afraid there's not much you can do." Sirius replied, not meaning any harm or ill intent. He didn't mean to offend either, it sounded like he was dejected — hopeless, almost.

"Well then, if you ever need anyone to talk to, we're here for the both of you." Molly assured so firmly that Sirius and Arabella could only respond with a nod and a grateful smile.

"Thank you." Sirius said, looking down at his feet.

Arabella noticed Fred lingering behind his parents, sending him a small smile. She knew that he was probably hurting just as bad they were. However, her smile only reminded him of Cass and he was unsure if that was exactly what needed at the moment.

Images flooded his mind at the memory of Cass. Pictures of summers in the burrow, late nights sneaking out Hogwarts, how her hair always seemed to fall perfectly into frame, the smile that reached here eyes and made his heart flutter at the sight. The floodgates of his mind were opened, and he was unable to stop it. Images flashed in quick succession, but all of them blurred and hazy as he became unable to recall and recognize most of them. Doubt grows larger — why can't he remember clearly, vividly? The room starts to shrink, walls closed in on him as Fred begins to feel that he had lost his footing. Suddenly it became all too real, where he was, why he was there, the circumstances that lead to it.

George's eyes widened at the flustered state of his brother, "You alright, Freddie?"

Fred shook his head, feeling his chest get tighter by the second, "I need to get some air."

...

a/n: it has just dawned on me that this is really going to be a character piece more than anything djsdn

anyways, I've been suffering writer's block and burnout lately esp with the hp universe bec of the current discourse on jk rowling,, and how consuming media on hp is indirectly supporting her... idk y'all I love the world + the characters she created but I also can't dismiss her racist/transphobic/etc views. so it's been really hard to come to terms with all of that dhbdj also v hard considering that I've also been writing hp fanfic for over four/five -ish years now

lmk what you guys think abt this...

honestly she should've just taken her millions and kept her mouth shut,, sigh

anyways pt. 2, I still hope you enjoyed this little update

love always,

arielle xx