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The price paid for the child you bore,
a curse to remain forevermore.
“Georgie, who’s that?” Fred asked. He knew his eyes were wider than he intended, but the redhead didn’t care as he watched the curly-haired brunette weave through the village market. She had a confident stature, but Fred noted in the distance that she was looking around cautiously.
‘What were you hiding, beautiful?’
A snort broke his reverie. He looked at his twin with a raised brow. “Doesn’t matter who she is. You don’t stand a chance.”
Fred knew that was a lie; he was the handsome twin. He stood in front of the invention booth with his brother. His eyes never left the woman’s form. That’s when he noticed her shadow. The shadow of a fox.
The sun will set and her flame will rise,
a monster her village will despise.
Fred was a curious man. As a curious man in a village like the Burrow, Fred sought for answers. He found out her name was Hermione. Her mother was the newest midwife, and her father was a blacksmith.
She was an only child, liked those story journals, and she always made the evening curfew. Fred had an inkling as to why that was; his mum told him stories about the witch creatures. He was mad for thinking it, but he prayed one day that he’d get the opportunity to approach her. Anytime anyone tried, she dodged them like the plague. Rumors from the other villagers would surface soon enough.
One night, Fred snuck towards the waterfall in the woods behind the village; this was his moment of solitude without his twin. He was sitting on one of the flatter rocks and watching the water pour rapidly into the waterhole below. It was glistening from the moonlight shining above, yet something else caught his eye.
Tiny flames twirled in the distance. Fred leaned forward to get a closer look. The flames were the tips of five tails. Five. The long, slender tails were chocolate brown and lined in cream fur. The woman with these tails was the true beauty.
“Hermione,” he breathed out.
Her curls were thicker with fox ears– real fox ears –perched on top of her head. Her cheekbones were higher; her brown eyes were brighter with a golden circle looped in the middle.
She stopped in her tracks. She parted her lips as if she released a breath. Fred decided to wave.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she hissed. She dashed away in a split second.
He dropped his hand and stared at the spot Hermione used to be. He couldn’t believe the curse was real. A forbidden, wicked creature–no, beautiful woman–that Fred saw first. He had to tell George—twin policy—but only George. No one else could know.
The right embrace is her northern star,
a seed of hope to plant and grow far.
He found her at the waterfall with her arms wrapped around her legs. Her tails swayed in harmony behind her; their flaming tips lit the area around his foxy lady. Only the sounds of the night and rushing water filled his ears when he took a step towards her.
He figured out the nights she wandered the nights freely; it wasn’t long before he used his Fred Weasley charm to have her company. Yet she still kept him far; this night would change that.
“You shouldn’t be here, Fred,” she said without facing him. He needed her too, though. He had something to show her.
“Give me a sound reason why I shouldn’t be,” he challenged.
She spun around quickly. He could see the golden loop in her eyes growing with irritation. He should be scared, but he felt more accomplished by riling the fox.
“I can give you plenty of reason to–” Her fiery eyes simmered down. “What...what is that on your head.”
Fred scratched his head. Rather, he scratched the fuzzy thing resting on his head. It was covered in fur, piled on the top of his head in two spaced out cone shapes. The thing was secured by a leather strap he looped around his chin.
“Mum wouldn’t understand if I asked her, and George wanted to see who could make one faster,” Fred explained. “I won, obviously, and I wanted you to see it.”
He knew it looked ridiculous; George’s looked worse, so that made him feel better.
“Are they meant to be ears ?”
Maybe not.
“The best man-made ears the Burrow has to offer,” Fred declared with a grin. “I’ve yet to start on the tails but…” He trailed off with a grin and watched for her reaction.
Hermione blinked twice; her mouth was opened slightly. Her tails continued to swish behind her; her ears twitched as she tilted her head. Hermione then covered her mouth, closed her eyes, and released a howl of laughter.
“Oh...Fred...you didn’t...didn’t have to…” Hermione couldn’t make a complete sentence through her fit. He thought it was adorable to see. He wouldn’t use that word around Hermione lest he wanted to have his eyes scratched out.
He strode towards her as she settled down. She had a hand on her chest and looked up at him.
“I wanted to,” he said. “I don’t care what the villagers think. Wicked and forbidden are my preferences.” Fred took her other hand and squeezed it with a cheeky grin.
One of her tails whipped Fred’s shoulder as she gave him a warning look. She didn’t pull away, though; that was a good sign.
“I’m no good to you, Fred.” Hermione shook her head. “Not with this curse.”
Fred squeezed her hand again. “That’s where you’re wrong, foxy lady. That makes you everything I need.”
He daringly leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Her breath hitched and her tails glowed.
Again, she didn’t pull away, so Fred held her closer. Wicked and forbidden, he loved it.