𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 | f. weasley

sixty-three

FRED WEASLEY WANTED AN OUT. He was practically losing his mind while sitting in Transfiguration. He would have snuck out of the class the first chance he got (considering he took a spot right next to the door) if not for Professor Mcgonagall constantly maintaining eye contact with him as if she knew damn well how distracted he was right now and trying to ground him back to reality. 

George had been made to sit on the first bench after the two had been caught mischief-making at the back last week, so currently, another sixth-year Ravenclaw girl who Fred liked to call Sam because he couldn't seem to remember her actual name (It was rather French and hard to pronounce so Fred just gave up after fourth year; she was okay with the nickname, Fred made sure she was) was his new desk mate.

"Stop bouncing your leg," she hissed under her breath, "You're shaking the whole table and my handwriting is getting messier,"

"Sorry," Fred sighed, sagging his shoulders and slumping onto the table.

Sam gave him a fleeting glance before rolling her eyes and reaching for something inside her bag.

"Here," she passed Fred a toffee, "Eat this. You'll be sick in ten seconds. Run to the washroom and wash your tongue clean before any worse side effect strikes,"

Fred's eyes gleamed at the blue wrapper covering the toffee. "You made this?"

"It's an experiment," she shrugged, "I'm sure you can make a better version,"

"I'll add your name to the people who need to get shares when our business blooms,"

"Thanks," Sam flushed, "For not being one of those jerks that steals ideas,"

"Due credit is given to those who deserve it," Fred grinned, quietly pulling open the wrapper and popping the semi-flat disk into his mouth and sucking on it.

Oh boy, it was disgusting.

Fred retched almost immediately. It tasted like what he imagined excrement would taste if mixed with bitter gourd and then sprinkled with every kind of spice to ever exist. This was working perfectly.

"Professor," Fred coughed out, standing up for his seat, hand already on the door, worried he was going to vomit then and there, "I need to use the loo,"

And then suddenly he felt his face turn red and his stomach twist in ways he never thought it could, "Or maybe even the hospital wing,"

He must've looked extremely sick because McGonagall nodded in agreement almost immediately, wide-eyed as she stared at the boy rush out, wondering what on earth he fed himself to want to skip class so badly.

Fred had never been more grateful for having the boy's washroom right beside the class. Banging open the door, he physically pried the toffee off his tongue and stuffed his face into the basin, sticking his tongue out against the cool water and scrubbing it as hard as he could. The icy cold water was of some solace to his mouth.

The door burst open again, and he found himself surrounded by a few boys chattering about something animatedly.

They looked at him for a moment and surely it must've been a concerning sight: a red, panting ginger with a drenched face, leaning on the basin, staring at himself in the mirror.

"You alright, mate?" a Hufflepuff asked with worried eyes.

"Slightly better now," Fred responded back truthfully, "Had a nasty toffee,"

"Oh," the kind Hufflepuff nodded, "Go to the hospital wing and ask for some milk or chocolate. I think it'll help you out,"

Fred shook his head gratefully, making sure to make note of his face to not accidentally prank the kid this year.

"Anyway, like I was saying," another Hufflepuff boy continued, "I'm going to ask Creevey to click a picture of her, create a billion copies and sell them to every student for a sickle each so that they can put it on their bedpost every morning, be greeted by her face, worship her before starting with their day, keeping in mind the example they should follow. Because I am doing that for sure,"

"I am going to marry her," the third boy in the group of five shrugged in all seriousness, "We're the same age but academically a year apart. I have a very high chance!"

"Keep dreaming, Stewie," the kind boy spoke up again, "I'm the only one here who's even had a conversation with her. If anyone has a chance, it's me,"

"Yeah right," the only Ravenclaw in the room scoffed, "As if Cassandra Black would go out with you because you told her where the potions textbooks were kept,"

Suddenly, Fred was very interested in this conversation.

"It was a very riveting conversation alright," he defended, "She told me all about Snape's classes when I'd started Hogwarts,"

Fred was laughing mentally. As if any third-year kid stood a chance with Cassie when Fred existed in the same timeline and space as her. Amateurs.

"All of you are stupid," the final boy of the group groaned, "Can we just take a piss and leave? You guys are over-exaggerating this Cassandra Black thing. It's literally not a big deal,"

The photograph kid grabbed his chest, wincing in pain, "How dare you shame our hero and icon. She is the moment. She is the epitome of courage and bravado. She is a Gryffindor in its truest form. She is the one who did something that all of us could only hope to achieve once in our lifetime. She-"

"What exactly did she do?" Fred finally interjected. He needed to know what had taken place for everyone to worship her as much as he secretly did.

"Oh did you not hear?" the kind Hufflepuff raised his brow, "Cassie flipped off Professor Snape," Fred's jaw dropped at once, soon beginning to grow into a huge grin.

"Do you know where I can find her?" he asked impatiently, practically bouncing on his feet.

"Hospital wing," the Ravenclaw informed, "Dunno why she's there though. The gossip was confirmed from there so I'm assuming she was there to ratify it,"

"Do you also want to marry her now?" the doe-eyed Hufflepuff asked (the first one to believe he had a chance with Cassie).

"Oh, I am going to marry her," Fred winked, "How could I not?"

And with that, he ran out the door, bubbling with excitement and happiness, forgetting all about the sick feeling in his stomach, leaving the five third-years in tragedy.

"If Fred Weasley says that," the first boy sighed, "We have no chance at all,"