Chapter Text
The first time you saw him was on the metro. You saw hundreds of strangers on the metro every day so it shouldn’t have been anything new, but he was hard to miss: a shock of messy red hair and a bright purple suit made him stick out from the Londoners sitting next to him. If that weren’t enough, a pair of bright eyes and a mischievous smile drew you in like a magnet. You occasionally peeked at the freckled face over the top of your phone, glad that there was such a handsome thing to alleviate your boredom on the way home. You often made a game of looking for attractive strangers on the underground, but he was the most captivating one yet. Strangest of all, you thought you might have caught him looking your way once or twice, but you couldn’t be sure. Eventually, the train arrived at your stop, and you reluctantly exited, certain you would never see the handsome redhead again.
It seemed, however, that fate was on your side, because a few days later you saw him on the metro again, this time in an emerald green suit. The train car was fuller that day, forcing you to squish down the aisle right in front of the eclectic man. You noticed (with an embarrassed glance) how well his suit fit him. As you reached for one of the handles, the train suddenly clattered to a start, making you lose your footing, and you tumbled straight into the redhead’s lap.
What is this, a badly written fanfiction? you thought, jumping back to your feet. “I’m so sorry,” you said to him, with a burning face.
“Don’t worry about it, love,” he grinned, giving you a wink.
Oh great, you thought, even his voice is sexy. You gave him a nervous chuckle, and hastily pulled out your phone, looking for a distraction from the awkward (and frankly cliché) moment. A couple stops later, he got up to leave the train, leaving you feeling warm where he had brushed past you, and more than a little silly. You weren’t about to get a crush on a man you saw twice on the metro just because of a wink and your affinity for red hair. You resolved to put him out of your mind.
The third time was a week later, just as you had finally forgotten him. Heading to the metro once again after an early morning rehearsal, you passed by a small bookstore when a flash of red hair caught your eye. You turned, not quite believing it, but there he was, in a sky blue suit, gazing at the shelves of books. Suddenly, he turned and saw you. He grinned at the recognition and waved at you. You were surprised he remembered you. You were even more surprised when he gestured through the window for you to come over. You didn’t have anywhere to be, and surely your coursework could wait for such an adorable distraction, so after only a moment’s hesitation, you walked across the street and pushed open the door, the bell jingling.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, love,” he said, grinning, coming up to you in the small shop. The nickname made you smile - he spoke as if you had been friends for a long time. You did feel quite at ease with him, strangely. He had such an open air of trusting about him, and it was a refreshing change from the stand-offish Londoners you were used to.
“I’m surprised you remembered me,” you laughed.
“How could I forget someone so beautiful?” he flirted.
“Takes one to know one,” you said back slyly. His grin grew wider.
“I’m Fred Weasley. And you are?”
After that, the conversation flowed. He showed you the books he was looking at, and you gave recommendations and your personal reviews. He didn’t seem to know much about literature - he stared blankly when you mentioned a couple well-known authors - but he was excited about all of it nevertheless.
“I’m only just getting into reading as a hobby,” he explained, “I didn’t know there were books outside of school until now.”
He was constantly joking and flirting, and you took it in stride, enjoying his shameless conversation. When he asked you to join him for a bite at a nearby café, you didn’t hesitate to accept.
You told him about your studies at uni and your rehearsals for a West End show that was opening soon. Fred seemed especially interested in the technical aspects and asked endless questions (which you found adorable).
Fred told you he ran a joke shop with his twin.
“Oh no, there’s two of you? I can barely handle one,” you quipped.
“Don’t worry love, George isn’t nearly as handsome as me,” he winked.
“Where’s your shop?”
He hesitated. “I doubt you’ve seen it. It’s tucked away in the middle of London.”
You could tell he wanted to avoid the topic, so you asked him about what school he had gone to.
Fred looked even more uncomfortable. “A… private school in Scotland.”
“Oh wow, you’re fancy. Can you speak Latin or something?”
“... Something like that. What school did you go to?”
You decided not to ask him any more personal questions after that, and you didn’t judge his unwillingness to share. You wondered if he had a childhood he didn’t want to remember. You noticed he would flinch when someone dropped their silverware, or when there was a yell from across the street. The fact that he hid this all under a charming smile only drew you in more.
Soon, it was late in the evening, and you couldn’t put off your schoolwork anymore. As you and Fred headed out the door, he grinned at you - something he had done constantly throughout the day that had very much grown on you.
“I’ve had a fantastic time today,” he said, his brown eyes sparkling.
“So have I,” you said. “Maybe I could get your number and we could hang out again?” You had never asked anyone for their number before, but you felt like you could never be embarrassed around Fred.
“Ah… I don’t have a phone right now… it’s, er, broken. I definitely want to see you again though!” he added nervously, obviously trying not to sound like he was making excuses. “When are you free next? I could just meet you at the bookshop again.”
“That sounds lovely,” you beamed, pulling out your phone to check your calendar. “I’m going to be pretty busy since the show is opening soon, but I’m sure I could find a time…”
The two of you set up a date for a little over a week later, and as you watched him walk away, you felt lighter and giddier than you had in a long time. Something about Fred was different. Something about him was just… magical.
You and Fred were only able to meet twice more in the following month - you hadn’t exaggerated when you told him you would be busy. Your show was getting closer to opening, and your professors had no mercy when it came to extra work. Fred was occupied as well. He told you his shop got extra busy at the end of the summer with kids stocking up on pranks for the approaching school year.
But when you were able to meet, it was always the highlight of your week. Fred made you feel like you were just as funny, smart, and attractive as he was, and although he constantly teased you, he never crossed any lines. He asked millions of questions about your family and childhood. He was eager, bright, considerate, and, you couldn’t help but notice, incredibly sexy. Throughout that month, you thought about him constantly, wishing you could text or call him - wishing you didn’t have to wait to meet him at the bookshop to see his freckles or tell him how your show was going. And the more you wished and the more the thought of him, the more you couldn’t deny the truth: you were falling for Fred Weasley.