Confident | Fred Weasley

Chapter 43 | Meeting

At sunset, Fred had sat down beside Sarah in the Common room. She was sat in the window seat, reading one of the many books she'd plucked from the library.

Sarah glanced up from the ageing pages for a moment, glancing at her boyfriend.

He was bathing in the golden light casted from the window, the lattice of lines that held the small glass segments together shadowed on his face. His eyes caught the sun, reminding Sarah of pools of warm, dripping honey. Freckles dotted his upper cheekbones and nose, like a flurry of particles. Sarah could've sat there and counted each and every one.

For a moment, Sarah allowed herself to drown in the presence of her boyfriend, her open book lay forgotten on her lap.

Finally, Fred smiled and said, "What?"

"What?" Sarah replied, the rumble of his voice shaking her from her staring.

"Why are you staring at me?" Fred asked, laughing more and more as he went on.

Sarah grinned, deciding to boost his ego a little, "Was just admiring you. You look good."

Fred smile went from curious to embarrassed fairly quickly, which made Sarah giggle.

"Anyway, I came to talk to you, so put your book down," Fred waved her off dismissively.

Sarah didn't need telling twice. She closed the book with a snap and a poof of dust. As she turned to the side to sneeze, Fred slid the book from her grip.

He stared at the cover for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Sarah," Fred said softly, meeting her eyes.

They'd done this thousands of times; shocking, blue eyes only focused upon golden, brown ones, yet Sarah never grew tired of the way his gaze made her feel. In love.

"What?" Sarah asked, knees tucking into her chest.

"Why... Why are you reading all these books?" Fred asked. Sarah had the strongest feeling that he already knew, and was only asking her to hear her say it.

He was a good boyfriend.

Sarah felt no need to lie, or tell a half-truth with Fred, nor did she think she ever would.

Sarah sighed, hair falling into her face as she inspected her trainers. She took a moment, deciding how to word it to worry Fred the least.

Finally, she looked up, met with Fred watching her carefully.

"I'm scared," Sarah admitted, hands fiddling with the edge of her jumper.

"About what?" Fred asked kindly. So kindly that it could've brought Sarah to tears.

In all her years, no one had ever cared for her - specifically her mental wellbeing - as much as Fred. In moment such as these, she was thankful that he was hers.

"This stupid war, and all the violence and stuff," Sarah mumbled.

Fred reached across, hand brushing against the glass window, reaching towards her own.

She took it.

It felt like the hand of someone saving her from falling off a cliff and tumbling into the abyss of terror and uncertainty. Or the anchor to a kite that was fighting against powerful gusts of wind.

"Reading all this stuff it just going to make it worse, you know?" Fred told, tilting his head at her.

Sarah smiled in spite of herself, "I know. I just want to feel prepared."