Since going blind at 6 years old, Fiona Diggory has lived in the shadow of her twin brother, Cedric.
Now entering her 6th year at Hogwarts Fiona finds herself thrown into a new friendship with Fred and George Weasley while trying to determine the m...
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Fred Weasley woke up early (by his definition of the word) on Boxing Day. The morning sunlight casting through the library window made it nearly impossible to continue his slumber. As he raised his thick ginger eyebrows and stifled a yawn, he glanced down at the figure curled up beside him. Fiona's gown draped over her body as a makeshift blanket. Fred silently watched as her chest rose and fell placidly. Her hair hung over her face like a twisted curtain. Slowly, and cautiously, he reached out and gently brushed the strands out of her face.
From the other end of the library he heard the lock click as the creaking door echoed throughout the room. Fred's heart sank; he listened to the sound shoes clicking against the stone floor. From the rigid clicks Fred deduced that the bearer was petite, likely no heavier than an underfed vulture.
"Psst, Fiona," Fred whispered; he nudged her awake. Her body stirred with consciousness as her nose twitched while she shed the sleep from her brain. She groaned dully, stretching her arms and legs to function.
Fiona was startled awake as a large and callused hand clasped over her mouth. She shot upright, attempting to shake the hand from her face, but Fred held steady.
"Fiona, I need you to be very quiet," he hissed into her ear. Fiona relaxed slightly at the sound of his voice. She mumbled inquiries into his palm, it came out as muffled murmurs. Fred sighed deeply and peered around the edge of the bookshelf. Madam Pince was flicking through the pages of an old book at her desk, her dark beady eyes judgmentally gazing at the words on the page.
"Quiet, okay?" He whispered before finally removing his hand from Fiona's mouth.
"What's going on?" Fiona asked, her voice came out hoarse and alien. Fiona attempted to clear the grogginess out of her throat, but the small action solicited a pleading groan from Fred.
"Well, it's..." Fred checked his wristwatch, "Nine in the morning, and-" But Fred's explanation of the situation was no longer necessary. Madam Pince began humming to the tune of Accio Christmas, by Celestina Warbeck, on the other side of the large chamber.
"Oh bullocks!" Fiona whimpered into her dress.
"Put that on, unless you want to be caught starkers," Fred instructed, as he gently tugged at the hem of her dress. Fiona reacted quickly and pulled her gown over her head while Fred shimmied into his pants. His belt buckle clanked quietly as he did so. They both froze at the sound and listened.
Madam Pince's humming came to a halt and the sound of her chair scraping against the stone floor echoed throughout the room. Fiona's breath was caught in her chest momentarily as the clicking footsteps grew nearer.
"Fred, fuck!" Fiona murmured as quietly as possible. Fred nodded and tossed his dress robes over his shoulder and picked up Fiona's heels before grabbing her arm and pulling her to the other end of the bookshelf closest to the windows.
