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“First Quidditch game today!” You cheerfully bumped your boyfriend’s shoulder as you sat down for breakfast. “Are you nervous?”
“Not as long as a certain someone will be cheering for me,” Fred smirked.
“Really?” you asked playfully. “And who could this ‘certain someone’ be?”
“Oh you know, just this devastatingly beautiful girl. She’s got the most gorgeous eyes in the world, and the prettiest hair…”
You couldn’t stop the smile from forming. “So you only like her for her looks then?”
Fred opened his mouth, but before he could answer, George and Lee began to make retching noises from across the table.
“In case you didn’t notice, there are other people here,” George said. “People who are trying to enjoy this lovely meal.”
“You mean you don’t enjoy hearing about how much I adore my-” Fred stopped as a piece of toast smacked him in the face. He swivelled to face Lee, jaw-dropping in mock anger. “How dare you!”
He grabbed his toast and prepared to toss it right back until you placed your hand on his shoulder. “Come on Freddie, let's walk to the pitch and get away from these poor, sad people who don’t know what it's like to be in love,” you said, sarcasm colouring your tone.
George stuck his tongue out at you as you grabbed Fred’s hand and dragged him away.
***
He held your hand the whole walk down to the pitch, claiming “I don’t want you to get cold!”
You hid your blush. “Freddie, it’s hot as Merlin’s balls out here.”
“Well if you want me to stop..”
“Shut up.”
“Sweetheart, I know you love me.”
“I’m supporting Ravenclaw.”
He placed his hand (the one that wasn’t holding yours) on his chest and gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Yeah yeah yeah,” you said, slowing down as you reached the locker room. Before he could head in, you raised yourself to your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. “For luck.”
Fred pouted. “I can’t have a real kiss?”
“Win the game and we’ll see.”
***
It was a perfect day for Quidditch. Sunny skies, barely any wind, and warm enough that you didn’t need your Gryffindor scarf. The stands were full of people sporting red and gold colors and holding signs in support of your team.
Even though the teams hadn’t even entered the pitch yet, both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw sides were already chanting cheers and conjuring red and blue smoke.
You tapped your foot impatiently as you waited for him to fly onto the field. Quidditch may not have been your favourite activity, but you came to support both Fred and your brother Oliver.
“I wonder who’ll win this one,” your best friend asked. “I mean, Quidditch was cancelled last year, so we don’t really have a base for this one.”
Oliver had already given you an entire lecture on Gryffindors chances for the year, but you elected to be optimistic.
“Come on, Fay. There's no way we don’t have this in the bag. Cho Chang versus Harry Potter? Ravenclaw doesn’t have a chance.”
“Don’t jinx it!” Fay paused for a moment, then smirked. “And aren’t you forgetting your favourite player?”
“Shut up. Of course Fred has got this, easy. The Ravenclaw beaters are shit.”
***
The Ravenclaw beaters were, unfortunately, not shit.
As Fred and the rest of the team flew onto the pitch, you cheered as loudly as you could, beaming as your favorite player blew you a kiss. Oliver and Flint did their typical handshake, and the match began.
Your watched Fred for the majority of the game, occasionally pausing to watch Oliver block a goal or one of the chasers score. It didn’t look like either of the seekers had seen the snitch yet, so you settled in, expecting a long game.
The Ravenclaw beaters were ruthless; it was clear they’d taken some inspiration from Slytherin’s typical strategy. They were hitting Blugers at everyone, even if the players weren’t anywhere near the Quaffle. You had no idea how they hadn’t gotten any fouls yet.
“And Samuels sends a Bludger hurtling toward Alicia-- but one of the Weasley twins is on his way!” Lee announced. “And it’s blocked by Fred Weasley, nice one and--”
It seemed to happen in slow motion.
“And Inglebee sends another Bludger-- WATCH OUT!!”
Inglebee’s Bludger slammed into Fred’s skull, just above his right ear. Even from so far away, you could see the gush of red exploding from his head as the Bludger made contact.
Someone was screaming. It might have been you.
Fred immediately went limp and began to slide off his broom.
By this point, you’re running. Running faster than you ever have in your life, racing down the stairs of the stands, running, running, running.
The stands have never been so silent. You couldn’t hear a thing when you reached the field,
You reached Fred before even McGonagall. He’s lying on the ground, surrounded by the whole team, bleeding more than you’ve ever seen a person bleed. You never knew how much blood a person’s body held until this moment.
No one spoke. You’d never seen George so silent or so pale.
You knelt next to him and took his hand. It was faint, but you could still feel the beat of his pulse.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
You finally breathed.
After what felt like forever, the professors arrived.
“Move! All of you!” McGonagall called, flicking her wand and conjuring a stretcher. “Out of the way!”
Everyone moved, faces sober as they allowed McGonagall to work.
Everyone, except you and George. You made eye contact as you clutched Fred’s hand and he brushed Fred’s hair back.
“Miss Wood, Mr Weasley, we need you to move, he needs to go to the hospital wing as soon as possible,” McGonagall said, fear creeping into her voice.
Why won’t your body move? You know it's important. You know that he has to get treatment.
Then why won’t your legs work?
You clutched his hand tighter.
“Both of you, move, please,” McGonagall asked again. “Or we will be forced to remove you.”
Merlin, if he could just open his eyes, just move a little bit so that you would know that he’s okay.
“C’mon Y/N,” your brother touched your shoulder. “You’ll see him in a second.”
As Oliver pulled you away, allowing the professors to work, Percy pulled George towards you. Neither of you spoke, simply watching as they loaded him onto a stretcher and rushed him to the hospital wing
As you followed the team and the rest of the Weasleys to the hospital wing, you barely noticed the tears flowing down your cheeks and the blood staining your pants.
***
The next thing you remember is sitting in the hospital wing. You think Madam Pomfrey tried to throw the team out, but you couldn’t remember.
Still, it was silent as she worked, muttering healing charms and feeding him potions. Oliver’s hand never left your shoulder, and you squeezed George’s hand when it almost got to be too much.
A few moments later, Lee appeared, eyes red, and held George’s other hand.
An hour or so later, Fred’s parents arrived. Molly was pale, her red hair standing out starkly against her skin. Her hands shook, and she held tightly onto her husband as she joined our vigil.
Arthur blinked back tears and stood tall as you all waited. His hands shook too, but he grabbed Molly’s to support himself.
You tried to push the thoughts away that increased with each passing moment.
What if Fred died?
What if you never saw his smile or heard his laugh again?
What if you were never able to tell him that you loved him again?
Bludger wounds weren’t uncommon in Quidditch. They happened nearly once a game, foolish sport. But if it was taking this long to heal him…
Magic couldn’t solve everything.
And so, you waited.
***
Hours later, Madam Pomfrey emerged. She started to pull Molly and Arther away, but they waved her away and she spoke to all of us.
After a deep breath, she said. “I’ve done everything I can. Head wounds are dangerous, even for a wizard, and there's no guarantee. Even if he wakes up, he may have altered memories, or be very different from how you remember him.”
Fuck.
Your laughing, prankster, stupid Fred could be gone? He could have forgotten everything?
The Freddie you knew could be gone forever.
Your voice cracked as you asked, “When will he wake up?”
Madam Pomfrey blinked very hard before she answered. “It impossible to know, however, I would estimate that if he doesn’t wake within the week then,” she cleared her throat. “Then, we may have to begin making alternate arrangements.”
Molly let out a sob, and Ginny moved to stroke her back, eyes shining with tears. George simply stood there, eyes wide. You squeezed his hand, and he seemed to come back to reality as he covered his face in his hands.
“I can’t believe it. Four hours ago we were joking about blowing up a few toilets tonight and now…”
You nodded. “I know. I didn’t even kiss him goodbye.”
He didn’t respond, and Lee and Oliver were silent as well.
For the first time today, you took in who was actually in the hospital wing. Harry sat with Ron a few feet away, whispering to each other. Alicia, Angelina, and Katie were sitting together as well, and all of their eyes were red and full of tears. Alicia had her head on Angelina’s shoulder, and Katie had placed her head on her lap.
Molly and Arther were sat with Ginny and Percy, all of them looking grave. Molly was beside herself, her sobs echoing throughout the hospital wing.
After a few moments, Angelina’s group rose. She sniffled before saying:
“We’re going to go update our house. I-I’m sure they all want news.”
The groups nodded, and Percy stood. “Yes, that's er,” he sniffed. “That's a great idea. As Head Boy, I’ll come with you to deliver the news.”
The four of them left, and your vigil continued.
***
McGonagall forced everyone to go back to their dormitories that night. By some miracle, you weren’t bombarded with questions about your boyfriend, although you thought that was mostly due to Oliver threatening everyone.
Even Fay, who’s the nosiest person you knew, didn’t pry. All she did was give you a hug and order you into bed as soon as you got back, even going as far as to bring you warm milk from the kitchens.
Still, you didn’t sleep. Not a wink. All you could think about was your Freddie, sitting in the hospital wing, possibly dead or worse.
It was difficult enough, sleeping without his arms wrapped around you and your head tucked into his shoulder, but sleeping was a whole new level of difficulty when he could be dead and you wouldn’t know.
You may never be able to fall asleep with him again.
As soon as it was light enough outside, you got out of bed and immediately set out for the hospital wing. You weren’t surprised to see George sitting at Fred’s bedside when you arrived.
He looked up at you as you pulled the chair toward Fred’s bed.
“Anything?” you asked.
“Nothing.”
You nodded and grabbed Fred’s hand, holding it until Madam Pomfrey ordered you out.
***
That’s how your days went for the week. You woke up, visited Fred until Madam Pomfrey threw you out, went to class, visited Fred, went back to class, choked down dinner, and visited Fred.
So, it wasn’t uncommon that you were the only person in the hospital wing, especially when George had class. Madam Pomfrey gave you a few glares, however, she let you stay for the most part.
It was on the last day of the week, the last day he had to wake up when it happened. You’d talked to him all week, telling him little anecdotes and keeping him up with classes, but this was different.
“Yeah, and next week we’re going to be having our test on counter-jinxes, so you better wake up in time to take it, or you're going to be completely behind.”
Obviously, he didn’t respond. For some reason, your eyes began to fill with tears.
“Please, Freddie. You need to wake up,” tears streamed down your face and you kissed his knuckle. “The team needs you to wake up. Your family needs you to wake up,” you paused. “I need you to wake up.”
Was it just your imagination, or did he twitch slightly when you said that?
“God, I wish I kissed you before the game. Then at least we would have had a proper goodbye,” you kissed him on the forehead. “I guess that will have to do.”
He stirred again.
“Freddie?”
You waited a moment, hoping and praying and wishing, that maybe, just maybe, he might wake up.
“Sweetheart?” he slurred. “Are you there?”
“Thank Merlin!” you sobbed. “Oh my god, Freddie I can’t believe it.” You grabbed his face and began to kiss him all over. “I thought you were dead! Madam Pomfrey said you might not wake up!”
He laughed weakly. “You thought some Bludger could take me out? Give me a break,” he paused for a moment, staring right at you. “I’d never leave you alone.”
You sniffed and blinked back tears. “Good. At least you got some sense knocked into you,” you paused. “Just please, never do that again.”
He squeezed your hand. “Sweetheart, I promise you that I’ll always wake up.”