Multi-fandom Oneshots

I Swear I Lived {Fred Weasley}

Fred Weasley and I weren't exactly friends. But at the same time, we were perhaps the farthest thing from enemies. It was a situation where if he were between me and a wall, I would be perfectly content to either smash his face with a pie or smash my mouth onto his until I snog his lights out.

I finish my next prank and take that once-in-a-lifetime chance to look around Fred's dorm room while I'm in here. It was quite frankly, a mess. I smile as my gaze falls onto the nightstand next to his bed. A green sweater that had a large F on the front was splayed across it. My fingers ghost across it and a smile lightens my face.

The prank flickers through my mind and a giggle escapes me. The spike of adrenaline rushes through me with the possibility of being caught in the boys dorms. I grin wildly and bolt out of the dorms and out of the Gryffindor common room.

That next morning I groan loudly as Oliver Wood pulls me along, dressed up in full quidditch gear. The sun had barley risen, the moon still shining dully. Faintly.

"Why must we do this Oliver," I ground out. He chuckles and pulls me along a little quicker.

"Practice makes perfect. And that's what I am determined to make you perfect at quidditch," Oliver explains, a determined nod of his head to follow.

"But why so early," I begin to whine; which only causes him to laugh fully and heartily.

"Morning is the best time for quidditch. But I'd rather think all time is best for quidditch. Morning, the weather is usually perfect and it gives more time before classes start," Oliver rambles on. I nod my head along with the speech I had heard a dozen times as Oliver had taken me out to practice a dozen times early in the morning and I had complained a dozen times. It was a routine of ours. One I would miss very much when he graduated at the end of the year.

"But we don't have classes today, Ollie," I answer plainly, already knowing his response. I mimic along with his words as he says them.

"But it's always a good idea to get a good quidditch practice in," he voiced as I mouthed along. When I look back up at him, he's already staring down at me with a plain look on his face. I merely smile and pat his cheek.

"MALFOY!" An enraged voice screams through the air. My hand freezes on Oliver's face. Both of our eyes go wide.

"What did you do," he whispers in horror. My throat clogs up. I try and swallow the lump but I was frozen. My mouth drops open and I try and talk.

I knew that voice. The accent. No matter how it was said, I could recognize Fred's shouting at any time. But I had never heard his voice this much... full of fury before. He sounded completely feral. And it sent the most delicious shiver down my spine. A shiver that snapped me out of my daze. I look back up at Oliver and grin.

"I did something-"

"What did you do?"

"Something... magnificent," I whisper in excitement, the grin on my face widening as I speak. Oliver's Adam's apple bobs as he looks into my eyes.

"Malfoy!" Fred shouts again, his voice getting louder. He was getting closer. I smile and both Oliver and myself look over to the pitch's entrance to see an angry Fred storming into the pitch. I can't stop the laugh that bubbles up my throat and escapes past my lips. I faintly hear Oliver gasping behind me.

Because right then and there in front of us, was Fred Weasley, but instead of his flaming red hair that I loved almost more than the fire in his soul, was magically turned into the platinum blonde that me and my family wore with such pride. His face was red though. Basically the same color his hair used to be. Oh and it was beautiful. He looked quite good with my family's hair color.