The One For Me ~ Fred Weasley FanFiction

64 ~ All Mine? All Yours.

Warning: +18 Sexual Content

"You're traumatizing them," I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

"We need guinea pigs and the first years were eager," Fred says, smirking. He wraps his hand around my waist, bringing me closer. "How was your last detention with Umbridge?"

"Fine," I mumble, unconsciously biting the inside of my bottom lip.

"You are a terrible liar," he says, pulling me into a kiss. I kiss back, lingering on the taste of his lips: cinnamon and cherries. A taste I'll never get bored of. A taste I'll never want to forget, ever. His hand grabs mine. I instinctively pull away. His grip tightens, not letting me. I fight him on it, trying to pry my hand away. He hasn't seen the scars that pen left and I don't want him to.

"You don't need to see it," I say, pulling down my sleeve. He sighs deeply.

"I just want to make sure it's healing correctly." He stares into my eyes, trying to find a certain leisure in them. I keep them the same. Hardened and unreadable. "It's not ugly. It never will be."

"I wasn't thinking that," I mumbled. He raises his eyebrows at me. "I wasn't."

"I need to give you lessons on lying." He pulls up my sleeve slowly and looks down at the ugly words on my hand. I look away not wanting to look at them myself. "Has McGonagall seen them?"

"No," I say, taking back my hand and pulling down my sleeve. "And she won't. I don't want to give the wicked witch of the west the satisfaction of knowing I went blabbing to her."

"Serena-"

"She's looking for weakness and I refuse to be the one to show it," I state. I run a hand through his hair. His hand rubs the back of my thigh in soothing circles. "Don't you have a Quidditch game to get ready for?"

He sighs deeply, dropping the subject. "Yes. It's in an hour, but knowing Angelina she'll want us there thirty minutes before. George!"

George looks up and nods to him. "Alright, you little squirts. Take the reversal for whatever you got and go about your business," he announces. The first years rush to take whatever potion or treat gets them back to normal and race out of the common room. Five minutes later George comes back with his box full of Weasley products ready. "Shall we get going then?"

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Fred rushes past me hitting a nasty bludger. He turns back around and scans the crowd. His eyes land on me and he winks, smirking. I smile back and look at the bludger racing towards him. I point behind him. He turns around and hits it, hitting a Slytherin chaser. He flies off to help the team.

Five minutes later Harry is flying behind Malfoy. I can feel him frustrated and angry. His mouth moves and Malfoy swerves at the words. Whatever Harry said left Malfoy angry and him satisfied. With not another second to spare, Harry has the snitch clasped in his gloved hands.

We cheer with hungry desperation. For Ron's first Quidditch game it wasn't too bad. Harry had to help him out a bit, but the good thing is that we won.

The team touches down at the end of the field near the changing rooms. I see Malfoy flying down at them from the corner of my eye.

"Clara we need to go," I say, grabbing her arm and pulling her through the crowd. It's a good thing we sat near the stairs.

"Why?" She shrieks, trying to stop me.

"I have a feeling that things aren't going to go over well," I say, running down the stairs. And the feeling is true. I can feel Malfoy's malicious intent. It practically reeks off of him.