May the Best Man Win |×| Fred Weasley | 1 |×|

×| FORTY-TWO |×

FRED THOUGHT IT WAS HIGH TIME HE LOOKED AT THINGS FROM A NEW PERSPECTIVE. Ever since the world cup his attention had been caught by the name lit up in bright lights and fireworks flashing around him at every turn. Or at the very least it seemed that way, for everything from the sweet smell of his mother baking in the kitchen to the Irish rosette he now had pinned up in his bedroom at home sent his mind racing down the path marked by a neon arrow that always lead him back to that name, the girl it belonged to and the fairy-tale kiss they'd shared that night. Then, inevitably, the vibrant lights would flicker out and leave him in a dead-ended reality where their moment was just a fog of memory parted by the pang in his chest when he'd see her with another guy. The pattern was growing tiresome; he needed to find a new path, concentrate on something else and see the situation from a different angle entirely.

Fred chuckled at himself, who'd have thought he could be so poetic? He was sure George would give him hell if he knew what he'd been thinking about for the past few weeks. He lay sprawled on his bed in the Gryffindor dorm with his upper body hanging upside down over the edge. Everything certainly did look much stranger from his new viewpoint, and upending himself had been so much easier than charming the entire castle to sit on its head (still, he'd locked the idea away in his pranking memory prison for a rainy day.)

The world was clinging to the ceiling and Fred found himself distracted by watching George and Lee sit quite comfortably on the new roof of the room playing gobstones. He wondered If that would happen to everyone if he managed to pull off this mega prank of upturning Hogwarts entirely, or if they'd all spend the day the right way up just walking on the ceiling that would have become the floor. And what would happen to the furniture? The books? The food? Would her Ice-cream defy gravity and drip upwards or would the tables in the Great hall crash to the new floor that was once the ceiling and leave everyone without somewhere to sit? He didn't even want to think about what mess the bathrooms might end up in, especially if peeves caught wind of the entire situation and started flushing when the toilets were hanging upside down -

What had he been doing? Oh, right. Seeing things from a new perspective. All this time lost whilst dwelling on the past and I'm wasting more thinking about what would happen if I tipped a toilet over like a lemon. Why do I bother wondering why she's still with that twat?

He paused - that was a good question. Not the part about the twat (the nickname with which Fred had christened Ethan Patterson), but why? Now that he thought about it - like really thought about it - Fred couldn't recall what had driven him to any of this. To his intense distaste for the twat, his even more intense distaste with seeing the twat with her, or even what had made it so fitting that night at the Quidditch world cup so that he just had to kiss her.

Fred cringed. That kind of made him sound like a creep. Obviously he wouldn't have kissed her if she'd not leant in too. He wasn't a monster, unlike some twats who forced kisses on their girlfriends to assert their power.

Hang on - she wasn't his girlfriend. He didn't have a girlfriend, he'd never actually had a proper girlfriend. Sure, Katie and Alicia thought that he and Angelina had been dating but that wasn't true - she and Fred were simply close friends - and there was those times in third year where he and George decided to test the waters and invite a couple of Hufflepuffs to hogsmead with them but again, that was nothing. Yes, he'd kissed girls at parties (once he actually had kissed Angelina, but that was barely a peck) though unlike what everyone seemed to think of him he wasn't just going to 'get with' someone to make out or anything. No. Nothing like that. And definitely not to prove that he could get a pretty girl to go out with him even though he was a ginger. He knew George was of the same opinion, why, his little brother wasn't even as open as he was with the tipsy kisses, although maybe that was because George wasn't so easily affected by half a bottle of firewhisky as Fred was. He'd be calling me a lightweight.

Realising he was getting off topic again, Fred shook his head and regrouped his thoughts. The point - right - she's not my girlfriend.

Why was he even thinking about her and his love life at the same time?

But if she was my girlfriend, I wouldn't be treating her like he does. She clearly doesn't like it when he clings around.

And when had he started paying attention to how controlling Ethan was with her? Was it when she told him that Ethan didn't like them hanging out?

I think we're closer anyway. She doesn't ask him to help her make ice cream does she? No. That's our thing. He's her boyfriend and she doesn't want him in her business. I bet she'd be way happier if I was her boyfriend instead of that twat.

Wait-

Fred's eyes went wide with realisation. The world was spinning and whirling when he rocketed to sit upright again.

Do I-

"Freddie? You okay?" George asked. Fred turned with a jolt to face George and Lee who sat on the ground with the game of gobstones between them, both looking a little confused and a little concerned. He opened his mouth to reply, thought about it, and closed it again. For a moment, he sat on the bed, blinking.

I... I think I... Do.

Fred breathed out heavily, laughing a little as a smile spread on his face.

"I like Evie." He said quietly, and then he fell back into his pillows and stared dumbfounded at the roof of his four poster bed. Certainly a new perspective All right...

George reached over and slapped Lee over the back of the head to stop him from laughing, but couldn't help a small smile form on his own face at his brother's innocence. It was typical of him to be the last person in Gryffindor tower to realise it.

Fred had feelings for Evelyn Fortescue. That much had been obvious for a very long time, except seemingly only to the people whom it truly concerned.

Now George and Lee would have do deal with his woeful pining being so much more obvious for weeks. But at least now that Fred had worked it out for himself, they could tease him as much as they fancied.

A/N: maybe a little short but this was more of a trial at writing from Fred's perspective. I'm not sure I got his voice entirely right so I'd appreciate any feedback if it seems unnatural for his character :)