The Chaser : A Fred Weasley Fan Fic

Thirty One: Desperate

"Tilly, Tilly..." a hushed voice swam through my foggy head.

My eyes opened and immediately the dream that I'd been immersed in disappeared like smoke I couldn't catch and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't recollect it. There had been a meadow, bathed in warm orange sunlight, a glimmer over the horizon and it was gone.

The room became focused as my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit hospital wing and I could make out a pale face, illuminated by the moonlight that seeped through the arched windows. My first instinct was to jump. I sat up abruptly as adrenaline began to course through my body and told me I was in danger.

"It's only me" came the voice again. It was low and quieter than it usually was, but I knew it was Fred's.

He was perched at the end of the bed, his arm reached out to touch mine through the thin clinical blanket as his thumb rubbed back and forth across the surface.

From what I could make out, his hair hung limply, just brushing his shoulders, as though he hadn't been taking care of himself. He sported tartan pyjama bottoms, a moth-eaten t shirt that left gaping holes in the sleeves and lower stomach area and his large Gryffindor sweatshirt slung over his shoulder.

"Fred?" I croaked, clearing my throat immediately of its raspy sound, "What are you doing here?"

The large clock that sat on the wall, which was perfectly in sync with the clocktower that the ward was situated inside of, read that it was quarter to five in the morning. The room was still drenched in a thick darkness, given the time of year and I'd have suspected it was midnight if it hadn't been for the time on the wall.

"Hermione said you woke up. She told me to wait until morning but I couldn't sleep" I could see his somber smile through the darkness. "Can I get in?"

I didn't answer but shuffled under the blanket, squishing right up against the barrier that stopped the unconscious, petrified or ill from falling out of bed. Holding it open at the other end, Fred took it as his invite to slip under the sheet next to me and kicked off his shoes. I could barely breathe but when I did I could smell his homely scent and it calmed any nerves that still lingered from his surprise arrival.

Leaning over him, I peered across at Ginny, who slept in the hospital bed opposite. All I could see was the back of her fiery red hair where she'd turned herself completely around to fall asleep. Even though she was in a deep slumber, once I knew she was faced away I nestled myself into Fred's chest.

His heart pounded fast, nothing like a resting beat and with every breath I took in the scent of the Burrow, firework powder and the potions that bubbled in the corner of whatever room they were residing in.

In my stupor, I didn't question it. I didn't say another word or ask why Angelina had been so upset or why he'd let her kiss him. I was exhausted. My brain was rattled and even though I'd slept for three days without even knowing it, I felt drained.

Fred's arm wrapped around my body and pulled me in closer so my head was flush against his chest. He repositioned his chin on top of my head so his nose was no longer tickled by my hair and we slipped back into sleep, seemingly in time with one another.

"Matilda- I - Frederick Weasley! Get up this moment. Both of you"

I woke with a start at the sound of Madam Pompfrey's shrill voice. Fred leapt from the bed and on to his feet in no time at all and began straightening himself out.

"Get to your dormitory now!" Madam Pompfrey's had gone bright red and her pale grey curls sprang wildly around her face.

Ginny stirred in the bed next to us, smirking at the sight of Fred being told off. She sat up and propped herself comically on the pillows to watch.