Catch Me, I'm Falling | Fred Weasley

Chapter 11

Fred woke to see Olivia hovering over him, focused as she dabbed his cheek with a wet washcloth. A dream? No, that was George's voice in the background. Not a dream, then. Thank Merlin Fred hadn't said anything.

His head pounded. Right, the bludger. Of course. Of course the bludger had hit him just as he'd spied Olivia in the stands. He'd been distracted. A pathetic mistake. That was Wood's number one rule: stay focused. It was a damn good one, too. Merlin knew how many times disregarding that rule had resulted in gruesome injuries.

To be fair, Olivia was a beautiful girl. It was an understated beauty, one that she clearly wasn't aware of, but mesmerizing all the same. Who could blame him? He deserved what he got, for gawking at her like that. He knew better.

Besides, she clearly didn't like him. She'd done everything to avoid him. Still, at least he could try to be her friend. Even that would be a challenge with her. He opened his eyes again, hoping for one last peek, but it was George's face he saw.

"Fred!"

"Ugh. Why must I wake to your ugly face?" Fred groaned, teasing him.

George grinned. "Ah. Come on, mate. I'm just as gorgeous as you."

"Can't argue with that logic," Fred smirked, taking George's arm to pull himself up. "The hell happened?"

"Bludger to the face. Lucky it didn't rip your head off," George said, hand coming up to trace the bruise. Fred hissed.

"Sure feels like it. Hell."

"Mmm," George hummed in agreement, squinting as he inspected the wound. Fred raised his eyebrows.

"So, how does it look?" he asked.

"Terrible," a female voice answered from the corner. Fred turned, grinning from ear to ear when he recognized the figure.

"Sparks," Fred said just as George muttered "Oof. Not a compliment, mate."

Olivia's eyes flicked to George. "On the contrary. I think it suits you." Both he and George chuckled at that. Huh, she was bold today.

"What are you doing here? Here to see me?" Fred asked, genuinely curious.

She rolled her eyes. "No. I assist Madam Pomfrey sometimes." That was why he'd seen her around here a while back. She grabbed a few jars off the shelf and strolled over. "How is it?"

"Not good."

"Hmm. Here, drink this," she handed him a glass of foul-smelling green sludge. He sniffed it and gagged.

"Go on," she urged. Fred looked at her with wide eyes. Even George leaned over to sniff it.

He immediately recoiled, grimacing. "Aah, that's terrible. Blimey, I've never seen anything as repulsive in my life."

"Drink it, Weasley."

"Please don't make me," he begged.

"Now." She was already reaching for her wand as if she could hex him into drinking it. She didn't have to. In one swoop, he chugged the revolting substance. It coated his tongue and went down quite a bit slower than firewhiskey, causing him to cough. George's ensuing hiss made him open his eyes. Olivia's face was now covered in a spray of green sludge.

"Shit." Olivia didn't react. Instead, she walked to the sink and rinsed her face, wiping away the potion with a washcloth.

"I am so, so sorry," Fred apologized.

"It's fine," she said through gritted teeth. It was not definitely not fine.

"How can I make it up to you?" Fred asked in earnest.

"I said it's fine." An idea popped into Fred's head. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a little yellow candy he'd made sure to stock up on in Hogsmeade. He offered it to her silently. Olivia snatched it, clearly trying not to smile. Her lips were pressed together in a tight line, but the corners lifted up and her eyes twinkled.

"So... Sparks is it?" George asked. Olivia turned to him with a sigh.

"Yeah, I'm Olivia. Nice to meet you." She reached an arm out and George shook it with a grin.

"I haven't seen you around. Are you new?"

"Yes. I was in a coma for a couple of years, but now I'm better," she replied smoothly as if she'd answered the question a thousand times. She likely had.

"Sorry to hear that," George said, going into empathetic mode. "How do you like Hogwarts so far?"

Olivia shrugged. "It's alright, I suppose. I don't really have anything to compare it to."

George nodded. "So. Any plans for Christmas?"

"Not really. I'll be staying here. I need to study, anyway. You?"

"We-"

Fred cut his brother off quickly. "Are staying here, too. It looks like we'll be seeing you around." George raised his eyebrows at Fred, who was shooting daggers at him. The message was clear. Don't you dare say anything daft. George put his hands up in surrender and shook his head a bit, leaning back against the counter.

Olivia, oblivious to the silent exchange, frowned. "I thought you Weasleys would be going home for sure."

"Change of plans," Fred said. Olivia raised her eyebrows, not buying it.

George jumped in to save him. "Our little brother Ron is staying with a friend, so we've been assigned to keep an eye on him. Might as well enjoy our time away from mum's spying eyes," he lied easily, winking at Olivia. Fred didn't like that, but he knew that his brother was joking.

"I see,"

Just then, Madam Pomfrey burst in.

"Potter's been attacked by dementors. Fell off his broom. Thank goodness I was there to help out," the matron said, urgency in her voice.

Olivia's eyes widened and she put down the vial she was holding. "I have to go, I'm sorry." She fled from the room. Odd.

-

Fred and Harry were released not too long after. Harry was fine if a bit shaken, and Fred had a slight bruise left over. Madam Pomfrey told him to let it heal and come by if it started hurting. He'd assured her he would, knowing full well he probably wouldn't. Except if Olivia was there. Hell, if Sparks was in the hospital wing, he'd fake an injury.

George had grilled him in the aftermath, very much frustrated that he'd miss mum's cooking. Fred now owed him ten galleons and a month's worth of butterbeer, which Fred had reluctantly agreed to. But at least they were in an agreement. No doubt they would soon have to tackle the task of telling mum they'd be staying at Hogwarts for the Holidays. She wouldn't be all too happy about that.

Then, George's tone changed. He waggled his eyebrows at Fred.

"Soooo... Is that the girl you fancy?" he questioned.

Fred ran a hand through his fiery hair and gave a half-hearted, "Piss off."

"Ohhhh...Well, she is pretty."

"George!"

"Hey, I'm just saying. Don't get your knickers in a twist, she's all yours," he assured Fred.

Fred huffed. "Better be."

"What do you say we prank her, eh? Just a little bit."

"George, no. She already hates me. We both know that is a terrible idea," Fred warned.

"You're no fun," George pouted.

"We seem to have switched positions. Aren't you usually the worrywart?"

"It would seem so. I thought you were the put-together one, but one look at that girl and you were falling arse over tit."

Fred shoved his brother and the two laughed as they continued down the corridor.