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

12: FRED

The Quidditch match was one big fail. Not only had they lost the match due to Dementors showing up at the bottom of the pitch and Harry falling from his broom, but Beth hadn't showed up to the match. She couldn't see how great Fred had played in the harsh rain and wind! Of course, that was nowhere near as concerning as Harry falling from his broom. Everyone had thought that he died . . .

Fred knew that for the rest of the weekend, he and the rest of the team were going to be taunted by the Slytherin players who took joy in seeing Gryffindor's defeat. And most of all, Draco Malfoy, who took their defeat far more to heart as he had already removed his sling and was waving his arms around, imitating Harry's fall.

What had confused Fred the most was seeing Beth talking with Malfoy outside the Great Hall, only they looked as though they were arguing. If his assumptions were correct, they were somewhat like cousins. The Black and the Malfoy family were related, that was about as much as he knew.

He wondered what they were arguing about, he would have known if he and George could figure out how to create a way to eavesdrop in other people's conversations, but their ideas were far too complex and difficult, or plain impossible and stupid. He knew they were close to finding out a way though. 

As Beth and Malfoy argued, Fred shooed George and Lee away and he sat on the marble stairs, staring at them, waiting, until he heard Malfoy grunt loudly, call Beth a horrible name followed by "Half-blood," and storm off towards the stairs that led to the dungeons. Malfoy saw Fred sitting there, snickered, and continued walking.

"What are you doing?" He heard Beth ask. He looked over and saw her frowning, clutching nervously onto her bag. "Shouldn't you be with Potter in the hospital wing . . ."

"Is that what you and Malfoy were talking about?" Fred asked casually. He stood from the stairs and approached her, frowning when she took a small step back. "You know . . . I just saw the two of you, and since he's a little git it's what I assumed."

"Sort of," Beth mumbled. "I hate foul play. His arm was never really injured, he's been using it to take advantage of some Gryffindors."

"Oh, we already knew that. Someday he's going to get punched in the face and I really hope I'm there to see it," Fred grinned. Beth only stared at him. "You didn't come to the match. I was hoping you would – weather out there was the worst but I played like a beast, I'll give you that."

"I was considering it, but . . . the weather was messy," Beth said shortly, followed by a shrug.

Her eyes moved over Fred's shoulder and he turned to see Snape ascending from the dungeon stairs. The teacher slowed for a moment, eyeing them both, and for a moment it looked as though he was considering approaching Fred and Beth, but decided to head into the Great Hall instead.

"I've had about enough of that bloke," Fred said, turning back to Beth. "One more lesson with him as our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, I'm gonna puke all over his slimy shoes. Where are you headed now, anyway?"

"Well . . . I . . ." Beth stammered.

"You really don't want me to come, do you?" Fred raised an eyebrow.

Beth suddenly glared at him. "Look, I'm trying my best to be as nice as I can, but sometimes I just want to be left alone."

"Why, though? Being lonely must be the worst feeling," Fred frowned. He would never be able to understand why anybody would want to be by themselves. "Let me come with you. We can study together. I excel at potions and charms, so do you, there's something we have in common."

Beth stared at him for a moment, pondering, before sighing shortly. "Very well. But if you do much as distract me, Weasley, I'll take your eyes out. I mean it."

"Oh, no," Fred gasped dramatically, following Beth up the marble staircase. "Not the eyes, anything but the eyes! I cannot go on knowing I'll never lay eyes on such beauty!"

"And be quiet," Beth hissed at him.

"Yes, sir."

Fred barely studied. Sitting at the back of the library, across from Beth Black, at the same table, it was hard to. They didn't really talk. They just sat there in a very comfortable silence, Beth flipping through the pages of giant books and jotting down notes with her quill, and Fred with his quill in his hand, although he lost interest in what he was doing as he found himself glancing up at Beth far more than either of them would have liked.

 He didn't know if she noticed every time, but she definitely noticed some of the time as she caught his eye, grey clashing with brown. She didn't hold his eye for very long when she did catch him staring, only for a second or two, before she calmly looked away and went back to what she was doing. This time, she didn't complain. And Fred didn't point it out, but he admired the colour rising in her cheeks whenever she looked away from him. It made him feel weird, like a tightening feeling in his stomach and an increase of heartbeats. It made him want to smile. It made him think of things his mother would gasp in horror at. He pushed the thought away and cleared his throat. Beth looked at him.

"So . . . that's a lot of books," Fred said awkwardly, pointing to the pile of books on the table by Beth. She glanced at the pile, then gave Fred a slow, weird look. 

"Yeah, it is . . ." she said, although it came out sounding like more of a question. She glanced down at his quill, back up at him, then down at her own page of notes. But she didn't do anything. She just sat there, staring downwards. 

"Are you all right?" asked Fred, and he was surprised by the genuine concern in his voice. Beth must have been too, judging by how kind she looked when she glanced up at him. 

"Super," she responded, dipping her quill in her jar of ink and jotting down more notes.

Fred smiled at her. At her furrowed eyebrows, her pink cheeks and her pursed lips. Her hands were shaky and she was writing faster than she was before. Fred felt his heart beating faster again.

"Super."