Harry Potter Imagines

Excuses part 2 F.W

Fred's POV-

There were three things that Fred Weasley had been expecting when he woke up this morning: a flunked Potions quiz, Oliver Wood's wrath (given that Fred skipped Quidditch practice the day before), and a forbidden trip to Hogsmeade with George at midnight.

What Fred had not been expecting is for a certain someone to rush up to him in the middle of the hallway right after Potions class (and he was right—he did flunk that quiz), grip onto his shoulders, and press a kiss to his cheek.

Now, Fred is not easily surprised. He's always the one to do the surprising, usually in the form of masterfully executed pranks and ridiculously witty remarks. But the word "surprised" seems like a poor fit for what he feels right now, because he is—for lack of better word—stunned. Gobsmacked. Flabbergasted. Is he in a fever dream?

The kiss lasts a mere half-second; before Fred can even begin to wrap his head around what the bloody hell just happened, Y/N is already pulling away from him and rambling on about being dared and blackmailed and perverts and definitely not liking him. (That last part kind of hurt, but that's hardly what's on Fred's mind right now.)

Fred blinks and wonders if the warmth spreading across his cheeks shows.

Y/N has stopped talking and is staring up at him, a blush of her own coating her face—and it's so ridiculously obvious how flustered she's gotten that Fred can't help but start laughing both out of fondness and to ease the bewilderment he feels as he tries to wrap his head around the past few seconds' events.

Which is that Y/N—a friend of his and George's for quite some time now who has an immaculate sense of humor, is secretly a pranking genius, and also happens to be one of the prettiest girls Fred has seen around Hogwarts—has just kissed him on the cheek, and is claiming to have been blackmailed into doing it.

"I'm sorry, Y/N/N," Fred begins, eyebrows raised. "But that's a very poor excuse." Which, in Fred's head, translates to: I hope that's an excuse because if it isn't, then I'm going to have to live with the fact that a pretty girl had to be blackmailed into kissing me.

She gapes at him for a moment, and then sputters out an indignant "no", after which she proceeds to open and close her mouth like a fish blown out of water as though grasping for words that won't come to her. The grin on Fred's face grows; at least he knows he's not the only one flustered around here, and, to be perfectly honest, he's dealing with it a lot better.

Funny. He's the one who got kissed on the cheek—shouldn't he be more worked up?

The fondness in his chest only swells when Y/N huffs and purses her lips, eyes skittering away from his as she mutters something inaudible under her breath.

It's not like Fred likes her. Sure, he talks a lot louder and acts rowdier around her just to grab her attention. And okay, he claims he needs help with a prank just to have an excuse to talk to her. Maybe he always remembers to bring her food from the kitchens just to see the bright grin on her face when he hands her a strawberry cupcake. And sure, he got jealous that one time he saw Roger Davies blatantly trying to flirt with her—

Okay, sure. Maybe Fred does like Y/N.

And maybe his feelings are a tad bit hurt when Y/N tells him, cheeks still flushed a bright red, "No, listen to me, Fred, I was literally blackmailed. Now excuse me while I cleanse my lips ferociously."

Fred already has a witty remark resting on the tip of his tongue to mask his hurt feelings. But before it even gets past his lips, Y/N is already dashing off. Before he knows it, she has already turned the corner and disappeared.