Hey Freddie

Quidditch Practice

I sat on the field below the Gryffindor Quidditch team practicing. It was Ron's first practice, and Fred was quite upset with me for keeping something hidden from him, so I thought the most I could do is watch them play.

"Ready to show us all up, Ickle Prefect?" said Fred, emerging tousle-haired from the neck of his Quidditch robes, a slightly malicious grin on his face.

"Shut up," said Ron, stony-faced, pulling on his own team robes for the first time. They fitted him well considering they had been Oliver Wood's, who was rather broader in the shoulder.

Fred noticed me and his grin dropped.
"What are you doing here?" He asked, running over to where I sat.

"I wanted to watch my boyfriend play, is that a crime?" I smirked, standing up and giving him a little kiss.

"No I guess not." He gave me a small smile, and rushed back to his team.

A group of green robes catches my attention. The Slytherin team and some of their groupies. They marched up next to me.

"What's that Weasley's riding?" Malfoy called in his sneering drawl. "Why would anyone put a flying charm on a mouldy old log like that?"

Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson guffawed and shrieked with laughter. Ron mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground, not saying anything.

"Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle, anyway?' shrieked Pansy Parkinson. "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

"Maybe if you kiss Malfoy's shoes a little longer he'll agree to look at you for more than five seconds." I scowled at Pansy, making her turn red, and the Slytherins to start laughing.

The Slytherins proceeded to ignore me, watching the Gryffindors practice. Led by Malfoy, roared and screamed with laughter. Ron, who had pelted towards the ground to catch the Quaffle before it landed, pulled out of the dive untidily, so that he slipped sideways on his broom, and returned to playing height, blushing. I saw Fred and George exchange looks, but uncharacteristically neither of them said anything, for which he was grateful.

Katie's nose started to bleed, and Fred amplified it by accidentally giving her a blood blister pod. Ron was too nervous to properly play, and the Slytherins were being gits.

I followed Fred into the changing rooms. He looked proper pissed, and George did too until he left with Katie to help her get to the Hospital wing.

"Freddie?" I peeked around the corner of the locker room.

Fred was standing there shirtless, he was tall, and his abs were exceptionally toned from quidditch.

"Come in." He said, shooting me a very short glance while digging through his locker for a shirt.

"I brought you cookies." I dangled a small paper baggie in front of his nose.

"What kind?" His eyebrow quirked up.

"Cinnamon snickerdoodles, your favourite." I giggled, watching him snatch the bag from me, hungrily pulling one out and stuffing it in his mouth.

"Thmfou," Fred tried to say something, but was silenced by the cookie.

"Chew with your mouth closed." I snorted.

"Thank you." Fred said clearly after thoroughly chewing and swallowing the cookie.

"You've been weird to me all week Freddie." I take his hand in my own.

"Y/n look I won't bring this up again if you don't want me to, but it kinda hurts that you don't trust me enough to tell me something. It makes me feel like I did something to earn your distrust." He looked down sadly, not making eye contact with me.

"Freddie, I'm so sorry." I felt a pang of guilt, I would feel the exact same way in his shoes. "I'll tell you if you promise not to try and do anything about it it."

"How can I promise you that if I find out you're in danger? Or if someone is hurting you?" Fred tensed up.

"Freddie..." I pleaded.

"Alright fine." He huffed.

"Let's talk about this in my room ok?" I wrapped my non injured arm around his waist.

~~~~
"Hello Adelaide." I smiled at the woman brushing her hair.

"Hello Y/n." Adelaide smiled over at Fred and I. "You really got yourself a catch." She winked.

"Peonies." I muttered, blushing, and Fred was smirking.

The door flew open and we entered my room. I quickly lit a small scented candle, liking my room to smell of pumpkin. Fred closed the door and walked in after me.

"Setting the mood?" He jested, and I rolled my eyes.

I stood in front of him, and his smile dropped, his face expressing his anticipation. I slowly lifted up my sleeve.

I must not tell lies. Was etched into my skin, dry specks of blood around the wound.

Fred opened his mouth, but no words came out. He gently touched my arm, and I winced at the slight contact, making him quickly pull away.

"Who did this to you?" He asked, anger filling his voice.

"Umbridge. She made me write with an enchanted quill-" I was cut short by Fred beginning to storm out.

"Fred wait!" I grabbed him, making him stop.

"You promised me not to do anything. I don't want you expelled." I whispered.

"But Y/n, this is unacceptable, we have to at least tell Dumbledore!" Fred exclaimed, his brows furrowed.

"That's the thing Freddie, we can't!" I yelled out of desperation to get across to the stubborn boy in front of me. "Remember the order? Dumbledore has a lot on his plate, and Umbridge is clearly sent here by the ministry to spy on him, and to control public opinion."

Fred paused, taking in this information.

"You're probably right but..."

"No buts. We're not telling him, or anyone for that matter. I expect this to stay a secret between us." I looked at Fred, who was now so red with anger about the situation I wasn't sure which was redder, his tie, his face, or his hair.

I got closer to him, the smell of pumpkin from the candle now reaching us. I snaked my arm up to his face, and gently stroked it, calming him down almost instantly. He wrapped his arms around my waist, careful as to not to touch my injured arm.

"Freddie I love you so much." I pulled his head closer to my own, our lips softly pressing against each other.

His lips were soft and enticing. They provided all the warmth in the world, and made me feel safe and secure no matter the situation. Even after dating him for a little over a year, Fred never failed to give me butterflies every time we kissed, every time he shot me his little look, packed to the brim with love and affection, every time he held my hand, his hands giant in comparison with my own, and every time he made me laugh. He was never forceful with his affections, but they always lingered with me, everywhere I went.