The Unbreakable Vow: wisps of Black | Fred Weasley [1] ✔

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A/N: I know we all hate stories about a Harry Potter character's relative that doesn't actually exist, but I'm going to write this anyway. Also, I'm aware of the Weasleys and Blacks being distantly related, but let's face it, the Black family married into pretty much every wizarding family. From the Weasleys, to the Prewetts, Potters, Crabbes, Malfoys, Longbottoms, etc. Ginny and Harry are also distantly related (according to my research) so no annoying comments please.

  'The pure-blood families are all interrelated'- Sirius Black. 

Any gifs added do not belong to me.

Proceed.

The rain was pattering against the windowpane in Gryffindor Tower the first weekend back. The fifth-years of 1993 were already boxed in and slammed with various amounts of homework yet the fifth-year Gryffindor boys had no care in the world for them - three of five Gryffindor boys, anyhow. Three of whom were occupying the fifth-year boys' dormitory.

Their discussion had gone from how irritable all the O.W.L talk from their teachers had been, to the escape of Azkaban prisoner Sirius Black, to an immature game of I Dare You, where the boys had impersonated annoying girls, to impersonating their angry mothers, to eating things they had found at the bottom of their schoolbags, performing spells on each other, until Lee Jordan suggested they move onto an Unbreakable Vow, each making one for another.

"The Unbreakable Vow," Fred shuddered, images of himself and George trying to make Ron attempt to make the Unbreakable Vow when they were seven, the hurt of his rear end after Arthur Weasley had caught them. "What memories, eh, George?"

"I'm quite fond of those memories, Fred, what's with the chill running down your spine?" George said before looking at his friend. "Anyway, what d'you have in mind, Lee?"

"Just like I said, the Unbreakable Vow," Lee repeated in a slow voice, fingering one of his dreadlocks with the tip of his wand. "Anything that won't actually kill us. I'll give one to Fred, George you give one to me, and Fred will give one to you. Wait, no . . . should I switch that around so that one of you aren't giving one to each other? Wait, no, that won't work either . . . We'll put a timer on them so that we don't actually end up dying. The cogs in my brain are working rather slow due to the weather outside. You know, like static."

"D'you think we really die if we don't do it?" George said.

"Well I've got the bloody hand print still visible on my arse cheek if you wanna have a look!" Fred exclaimed, standing up and threatening to shove down his trousers. George reached up and hauled him back down by the wrist.

"And by timer you mean . . . ?"

"If we don't give each other a time limit the magic of the vow might cheat it's way around and kill us in our sleep," Lee exclaimed dramatically, placing the back of his hand on his head and swooning against his pillows. He looked up at them. "It might get confused."

Fred yawned. "I don't want to. Sounds boring. George and I have better things to do than give each other death sentences."

"You know what, Lee," said George. "You have a point, even though it sounds ridiculous. What d'you say, Freddy? You up for a challenge?"

"What's in it for us?" Fred wanted to know. "We seal the dumb vow and then what? Nothing, we go back to the way we were and be thankful we didn't kill ourselves."

"Mummy and Daddy aren't here to back hand you now, Fred," Lee pointed out. "And as for what you'll get out of it - who knows? Money, ideas, popularity, love -"

"More trouble," added Fred.

"Detentions over Quidditch," George piped up.

Lee sat up and looked over at his friends with a grouchy expression. "You two are very optimistic this evening. Don't care, though. Let's do this; I'm up for a challenge, are you in, George?"