𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞

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"Oh, for goodness sake, Y/n!" Hermione said loudly, grabbing the pillow from under Y/n's head. "Wake up!"

Y/n groaned and rolled over, mumbling, "Leave me alone, Mione."

"Wake"—Hermione hit her head with the pillow—"up!"

"Alright!" Y/n shot up, shielding her head with her arms. "I'm up, you lunatic! I'm up!"

"And I thought Ron was a heavy sleeper," Y/n heard a voice sound from the doorway.

She looked in the direction of the voice, knowing just who it was, and scowled. "Well, I'm sorry if I'm not exactly a morning person."

"I thought you'd be more tolerable this morning since you went to bed early," Hermione said, exasperated—her hair a bushy mess, "but you're still a grumpy git, aren't you?"

Y/n felt the blush on her cheeks early enough to duck her head down, right down into her blanket to feign tiredness. But she was very much awake now—now that she was thinking about what she was doing instead of going to sleep early last night.

"Don't you dare go back to bed!" Hermione threw the pillow at her.

"I wasn't going to!" Y/n pulled her head up, a nasty look on her face.

Hermione huffed and hurried out the door, patting Fred's arm and telling him to make sure she didn't fall back asleep. Y/n caught her eye before she left, seeing Hermione stick her tongue at her.

"So..." Fred started, hands in his jean pockets as he leaned against the doorframe, "how was your beauty sleep?"

"Seeing how I look at the moment," Y/n said, rubbing her eyes as she stood, "I don't think it really worked."

"I think it did," Fred said, unusually quiet.

They met eyes, and the memories came flooding back. Kissing, touching, the sounds, the embarrassment

"I'm sorry," Fred blurted, standing up straight now.

Y/n blinked at him, then looked away, blushing hard.

"I'm really, really sorry," Fred removed his hands from his pockets, walking closer to her. "I didn't mean to do it, I swear."

He was closer now, and she had to tilt her head up slightly to meet his eyes, but there was still a good space between them.

"I know that probably wasn't your ideal first kiss, but—" Fred was cut off by a gasp of laughter.

Y/n was clutching her stomach, trying to catch her breath—she was laughing so hard her stomach began to hurt. All the while, Fred stood there awkwardly, staring at her with confusion.

"I'm so sorry—" Y/n gasped, looking up at Fred, tears in her eyes. "That was not my first kiss! Was I really that bad?"

Fred's neck and cheeks flared a light pink, and he said, "Sorry—no, you weren't bad I just assumed... you're a bit younger than I am, so..."

"Oh," was all Y/n said, feeling quite awkward now, her joking smile fading.

"You were really good—I mean, better than most, I guess—" Fred looked at her raised brow and corrected himself. "Not 'I guess', sorry. I just thought it—the y'know... was a bit strange because you're..."

"Your best friend?" Y/n finished for him, feeling a strange sense of disappointment at the title.

"Yeah," Fred let out a breath of air, a relieved smile on his face. That smile hurt Y/n a lot more than she thought it ought to have. "I'm really sorry I came onto you like that—I don't want things to be awkward between us."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊║𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲Where stories live. Discover now