𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. fred weasley

𝚕. 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚜

✦✧✦

Hamlin comes for her, she thinks. Cress isn't sure. Her mind is a haze of smoke and soil, and she's still being buried in her own grave of self pity. Self loathing. Whatever. She doesn't know. Doesn't care. She broke Fred's heart. Cedric's dead. What does it matter?

"Oh hush," he says as he tucks her into bed. His, not hers. Arsehole. His face is blurry, and she might still be crying if her hoarse throat is anything to go by. "You're being so dramatic. Scoot over."

Hamlin never listens. He presses her over even when she glares for him to leave. After he waves his wand magically, you know, the way that wizards do when they don't have wonky magic, he squeezes into the small bed with her, not touching her until she curls up beside him, sniffling and crying and so empty. It feels like Fred took her heart with her. Or maybe it's still outside, buried underneath the soil.

"Awful," she mutters into his chest, and Hamlin snorts.

"You're not," he argues.

"Am so," she says, eyes clenching shut as tears press themselves out of them. She can't stop replaying the smile or the kisses or the embrace or everything in between. Everything after. "Ergh--" She squirms, groaning.

"Stop with the moping please," Hamlin begs. "Let's focus on getting Fred back, please."

It's Cress's turn to snort. "As if." She's ruined it all, all because she couldn't stand the ache of the loneliness that his absence left behind. "I've fucked it up, Hamlin. He doesn't w. . . want me."

The sentence sends a stone through her, dropping to the pit of her stomach. Fred said they would be friends -- always, always, always, why can't he be angry, mad, irate? Why does he have to be so good? -- but that's feeble when you get your heart broken by your ex-girlfriend. If roles were reversed, Cress doesn't think that she could be friends with him, knowing and wanting and seeing so much more in a picture that barely scratches the surface. He only said it to be kind because Fred is kind and beautiful and she doesn't deserve him. Never did.

"You're an idiot if you think that's true," Hamlin argues while Cress is lost in her own mind. He flicks her forehead. She punches him in the side. "Prat. Tell me how you're going to get Fred back."

"Not even going to try." She isn't. At all. She's going to respect his decision even if it sends a knife through her. "There's no point. He's not -- I'm not good for him."

"Is that really for you to decide?"

"He already did," Cress snaps, sniffling once again. "He said he wants me to be happy." She scoffs even though her heart warms because there he goes, thinking about other people. "Stupid prat. How can he not see?"

Her hands clench Hamlin's sweater, shaking terribly. Stupid Fred Weasley, thinking that there's someone better for her than him. Stupid Fred Weasley, thinking that he's not enough. Stupid Fred Weasley. Idiot. Prat.