BURNED DREAMS▪️ F. WEASLEY ▪️ REWRITING!

chapter IX: fred

Rosalie Walters was exceptionally annoying this evening. First, she started with questions. How come I didn't see George? Aren't you two always together? No, Rosalie, we're not.

Next was stuff like 'Can you bring me a glass of punch?'. Of course, Fred being a gentleman, he did. But she drank those punches a little too fast not to be at least tipsy. Fred ignored it. He was here to have fun and not to watch over his drunk ex girlfriend that would not leave him alone.

Finally, she really seemed to like his left sleeve. Rosalie would cling on it, drag it, pull it, all while Fred hoped his mother wouldn't ask why was one sleeve longer than the other. Well, that left arm in the left sleeve brought him into this problem. In front of them, Rosalie and Fred, two exes stood two people who awoke butterflies in their stomachs, and Fred was sure it wasn't because Rosalie despised Lyra.

Lyra was standing in front of him and her usual smirk was there, but something in her eyes gave away that she was not as happy as she seemed. Nico Rosier had a victorious smile on his face that could only contrast the surprise on Rosalie and Fred's faces.

Lyra was the first one to recover from the shock all four brought upon themselves. ''Well, I'd say this is a nice party.''

''Better than all you've ever been to?'' asked Rosalie and gripped his arm even harder as to show Lyra that he was only hers. Psychopath, he has been in relationship with a psychopath.

''No,'' she said and shot her a smile that could wake the dead up. No matter whose eyes Lyra had, she had the cold of the Blacks. ''Not really. My mother threw balls much better than this, even in Azkaban.''

When Rosalie didn't answer, Lyra decided to move out of the way and stalked down the room to get to the table with drinks. Nico didn't know how to read this girl. He stood still in front of them and watched her walk away, all while his face showed the signs of suprise and terror. Nico Rosier didn't know what he had gotten himself into.

But Fred did, and he knew very well that if he wanted to be friends with her, he would need to do more than stand and look pretty.

''Oh, Rose — I think — I'm gonna be sick, the alcohol — ''

''What? — Fred, wait!''

She's going to be fine, and either way, he meant to run away from her. Well, he had to, otherwise she would have continued like that the whole night and Fred wasn't so sure if he would survive that. Lyra was standing there, with her back turned to him. Except she was having a temper tonight, she was particularly pretty with her long hair and mascara that framed her face. He had been asking himself for some time why had it been her, a daughter of a murderer that spread terror throughout their world, a girl with dark past and a darker future. Maybe he just liked a challenge.

''So, except for stalking me, do you have any other hobbies?'' Lyra had asked him so suddenly that he thought it was Rose jumping at him.

''Oh, you know. . .the usual.'' Fred grinned and started pouring himself a drink.

''The usual?''

''Pranks? Joking around?'' he answered, disbelief filling him as he almost dropped his wine.

''Never heard of it.'' she said and downed a shot of firewhiskey as Fred gazed at her. She's joking, she has to. Who hasn't heard of his and George's famous pranking career? Maybe she did live under the rocks, cut out from the outer world.

''I will pretend I didn't hear you say that.''

Lyra smiled. It was a rare smile, one of the rarest Fred had ever seen. He wanted to soak it up, the glow of her face and a spark in her eyes — a smile most of the people never saw, a smile so sincere that you might think there was no evil on this world, and no war coming.

''How about we play a game?''

Fred couldn't believe it. With his own ears and eyes, he heard her say that question and saw a spark of mockery that was almost always present in her eyes. Lyra was biting her lip and her drinks was swaying in her hands, as if she was a little bit woozy, but Fred knew it was just a good act. She was smart. She wanted to see if he would ask about her past now that he had a chance, like everyone always did. This was just one of the games she played.

''Hit it, Lestrange.''

The music had gotten louder and all the red, yellow and blue colours that were dancing around the room became duller as the two found themselves a seat on couches near the centre of the podium. Lyra had noticed the absence of green, but decided not to comment. It was just another sign of how her house was unloved. Did it hurt? A bit, yes — but if she remembered all the things that hurt her, she would have to have a list longer than all the known numbers.

''So,'' she started and licked her lips, tasting the alcohol. ''I say two truths and one lie about myself and you guess which one is a lie. If you're wrong, you drink.''

''And if you're wrong about me, you drink?''

''Exactly.''

A test. People could say whatever they wanted about her, but most of them were true. She was a true Slytherin, cunning, ambitious, witty — and a pureblood. Lyra was smart enough to test if he was worth her attention and it was either that or Fred was delusional.

''We'll start off easy.'' she laughed. ''My grandmother was a cat hunter. Other than Draco, I have no more cousins. I own four snakes at home.''

What about Tonks, he thought. Does she not know about Tonks? She had to, the Malfoys always know everything. And here Fred was, thinking how Nico didn't know how to read her, when in reality he alone didn't know too.

''Well, uh — I think that one about a grandma is a lie.'' his glass of wine was ready and Lyra eyed her carefully.

''I'm going to have to disappoint you, but it is a truth. I don't own four snakes.'' she chuckled. ''Come on, drink.''

She handed him a bottle of firewhiskey and urged him to drink. So wine isn't in a game anymore. This girl wants to get him drunk. Fred drank out of the bottle, a burning sensation filling him with what seemed to be courage. Her smirk was something else now — full of interest. The fire in his throat didn't settle down after some time; if he continued like that, he would be drunk in less than an hour.

''Alright, so — I have six siblings. My uncle Billius loved to dance ballet when he was drunk. I have never been in love.''

Her face was a grimace and a mixture of feelings. She obviously hasn't drank enough for facts like the last one. Was she capable of love? She did seem to enjoy Ruelle's company and from what he saw in her letter, Narcissa loved her too. No, Fred could definitely not read her yet; she was a storm that had no beginning and no end.

''You have never been in love is obviously a lie.'' she said and raised one eyebrow as though questioning him for a crime he never committed.

''Yes,'' he sighed.

Haven't I? What was then Rosalie, if not my first love?

''I'm quite good at this. So, my turn now,'' Lyra asserted and started playing with a loose strand on her jeans. So gothic, just like her family; he remembered Sirius from this summer, in his baroque elegant suits and house. ''Since we're already babbling about love. . .I believe in love. . .I have a tattoo and my mother was roommate with Rita Skeeter in her Hogwarts years.''

Since the first year he had known about her, this was the first time Fred had heard Lyra talk about her mother. Usually he would have thought that this was a sensitive topic, but when he heard her say the last bit of the sentence, all he could see was a young version of Bellatrix. The way she swayed her head and held it high, the way her eyebrows raised and her high cheekbones were all signs that she had her mother's temper and that no one but her family could deal with it. This was her, a girl Fred began to like.

''You have a tattoo is a lie. I'm one hundred percent sure.''

''Are you sure? I'll give you one more chance.''

Well, of course I'm not sure now.

''Yes,'' Fred answered, a hesitant tone taking over.

''I don't believe in love, Weasley.''