Songbird ; Fred Weasley

Thirty-six

Fred was beautiful.

Not hot, even though he was that too, but he was beautiful.

He was asleep right now, both of us in his bed, both of us quite naked. I watched him as he laid on his stomach, hugging the pillow to his face.

The sheets were barely covering him, and I could see just the top of his arse.

He had a really nice arse.

And back. A fucking nice back. His skin looked so soft. Just the right amount of muscles.

I traced his spine with my index finger, and at the touch, he let out a quiet him in his sleep, turning his head towards, because even though he was asleep, his body knew I was right next to him.

I traced a scar on his lower back, and I wondered if he got it from the war. I had seen it before, but I hadn't asked him about it.

We hadn't really talked about the war. It had been two years since it ended. It's not that I didn't want to bring it up. I knew it was still affecting me, but was it still affecting him?

He almost died during the last battle.

And I lost a friend.

Max and I lost a friend.

Max and I actually hadn't talked about it either. We had gone through the grief on our own, and we hadn't mentioned her since.

Sophia Flame was a year older than Max and I, but she was born after September so she was a year older than everyone else in our year.

She had stayed to fight, ignoring my pleas to come with us. Max and I had been forced to leave. We were just sixteen but Sophia was seventeen and she was allowed to fight.

She was killed right before Harry Potter ended Voldemort.

I tried not to think about it, because when I did, I'd get sad, and I hated being sad, especially when it was linked to grief.

Grief was the worst possible thing in the world. The heaviness of it was uncomfortable. The heaviness of it was horrible, and for the last two years, I had pushed the memory of Sophia away so I wouldn't feel the grief.

"What are you thinking about?"

I jumped at the sound of Fred's voice. I hadn't even noticed he had woken up, or that he was looking at me through one open eye.

I was still tracing his scar, but I came to a halt, and I heard him chuckle.

"Don't stop. It felt nice." He said, shutting his eye again.

I continued tracing the scar, staying quiet, because I didn't feel like telling him what I was thinking about.

Fred had known Sophie. He was always August's friend and Sophie was always mine so they met whenever they were both at the house, and at one point, they had gone to school together.

He was starting his fifth year when we were starting our first.

"C'mon, Maves. What are you thinking about?" He pushed, and he was looking at me again, but this time with both eyes, his head lifted off the pillow.

"Nothing." I hurried to say and pulled my hand away from his back.

I crawled off the bed, found my knickers on the floor, but of course they were completely ruined from last night.

Fred's eyes were on me as I walked to his dresser.

"I'm borrowing a pair of your boxer shorts." I said, going through his underwear drawer.