1: Trouble - Fred Weasley

5. she

she lives in daydreams with me, she's the first one i see, and i dont know why                                       

i dont know who she is

-

Unnoticed in the madness of the party, the pair weaved through people until they reached the spiral staircase. Imogen never would have thought she'd find herself ascending that staircase, and yet there she was, reaching the top with her vodka coke held steadily in her hand.

Fred's dorm was surprisingly tidy, although it didn't make Imogen feel any more at ease. She stood in the doorway, like a lemon, as he dug around in his drawer for the tin containing his smoke, holding it up victoriously once he'd found it. With a flick of his wand, the window slid up, opening. He grabbed a cushion from one of the beds and put it on the floor underneath the window.

"For you, m'lady." He gestured to it.

Imogen rolled her eyes, a stupid smile on her face. "Wow, thanks."

She sat down, putting her cup down on the windowsill, and he joined her on the floor, the spliff behind his ear. The party's music vibrated through the floorboards. He took it into his hand when a funny look came onto his face and he held it out, offering it to her.

"I think you should do the honours, actually."

"What?" Imogen had not been expecting this. "No, it's yours, you spark it."

He was practically smirking, his eyes boring into her, which wasn't helping with her nerves. "I insist. Come on, Falker. Humour me."

Begrudgingly, she took it, getting her wand out. She put it in her mouth and brought her wand tip up the the end.

"Would you stop watching me?" she asked, annoyed. "I can't do it if you're going to stare like that."

"I'm not staring!" he told her, continuing to watch her. Trying to ignore the way her every hair was on end, she brought her wand to the spliff and lit it. Imogen took a few hard tokes to get it burning properly, and then took a nice long drag, breathing the smoke out of the window. When she looked at Fred again, he was still watching her.

"Merlin, Falker. I'm sure you've done that before."

Imogen felt her face get hot.

"Oh shut up. Not everyone is a hopeless stoner like you, Fred."

Fred looked at the spliff in her hand, which she was taking another drag on. "Riiight. Right."

Imogen handed it over to him.

"So Mo didn't fancy the party, then?"

Imogen laughed a little, looking up at him as he took a drag. "Oh yeah. She was begging to come."

"She doesn't know what she's missing out on," Fred said seriously.

Imogen snorted at that, and sipped her drink. She found herself getting comfortable with him, and within moments she couldn't help asking her next question.

"Who was your friend downstairs? The blonde one."

Fred looked confused, taking a long drag on the spliff. "What, Cormac? He is not my friend."

Imogen shook her head. "No, not him. Her hair was a bit longer than his."

Recognition flared on Fred's face. "Oh, Molly. Yeah, Molly Macklemill. She's in Ravenclaw, seventh year."

"Oh. Right." Imogen nodded, nonchalant.

Fred smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye, and he handed her the spliff. "And she's just a friend. Don't worry."