Work Text:
For once, it’s quiet in the Burrow. Or at least as quiet as it gets. Molly and Arthur had retired some time ago, but all the kids (except Percy, of course) had decided to stay up late, eager to squeeze out the last drops of summer before the return to school. George and the trio are spread out on the floor in front of the fire, talking softly about nothing. You sit in a chair facing the whole scene with a mug of tea cradled in your hands, wondering where Fred has gotten off to. Your boyfriend had left his perch beside you claiming he was going to the bathroom, but twenty minutes later he still hasn’t returned, and you’re starting to get suspicious. Just as you begin to consider hunting him down, you feel eyes on you and look up to find Fred watching you from the doorway. He smiles when he catches your eye and lifts his chin in the direction of the door. You sigh, setting down your tea, and go to join him.
“What exactly are you up to, Fred,” you say, smiling as he wraps his arm around your waist.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grins down at you. “But if you would be so kind as to join me, I need to go somewhere.” He pulls away from you to grab your coat, and you notice he’s already wearing his.
“Do I get to know where it is we’re going? Or why?” you ask as you pull your arms through the sleeves. Fred hums, pretending to think as he turns you around to do the buttons on your coat.
“No,” he declares as he finishes up, “I think it’d better be a surprise.” You roll your eyes as he grabs your hand, tugging you out the door.
The Ford Anglia was in the driveway, already running. The two of you hurry over, eager to be out of the chilly night. Fred opens your door for you, dramatically bowing. You curtsy back at him, and he laughs as you sit down. He makes his way to the driver’s seat, and you take off into the night. You’re surprised when he doesn’t lift the car off the ground, and you turn to look at him. Feeling your eyes on him, he smirks, but says nothing.
After about three minutes, Fred pulls off the main road and parks. Peering out the window, you see a small trail leading off into the woods. You startle when Fred appears suddenly beside the window, which he notices. He laughs as he opens the door for you.
“Scared of the dark, are we?” Fred asks, holding out his hand.
“Maybe,” you reply, taking it. He tugs you out of the car and into his chest, almost ripping your arm off in the process. You huff out a breath, about to scold him for forgetting his strength, but when you look up you pause.
Fred is looking down at you with a soft look, one that has your stomach erupting into butterflies, and you flush, ducking your head back down. He laughs at that, pulling you into his arms and squeezing you hard enough to steal your breath. You lift your arms and return the hug, confused. He finally lets you go, but you keep your arms around his shoulders.
“What was that for?” you ask, and he laughs again.
“You’re just cute, is all,” he says, his face pulled into an attempt at seriousness. You hit his chest and start to pull away, but he stops you. “Wait, your necklace.”
You look down and find it stuck in the zipper of his coat. The chain glints in the dark as Fred untangles it, long fingers moving deftly. “There.” He looks at you triumphantly, and you can’t help but smile.
“Thank you, Fred.” You kiss his cheek, and he beams at you, pleased with himself. “But can you please explain what we’re doing at midnight in the middle of nowhere?”
Fred smirks, stepping away to open the boot of the car. He pulls out a picnic basket and whispers, “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
You roll your eyes and consider pulling away when he grabs your hand, but the woods are dark and cold and, though you’d never admit it, scary. So you press closer against Fred’s side, and allow him to lead you off into the trees.
It was a short hike, and an easy one, to your thanks. As you crest the hill, you find yourself in a clearing carpeted with soft grass. You reach down to brush it and your hand comes away wet with dew. You turn to find Fred pulling a blanket from the picnic basket.
“Look up,” he murmurs. You do, your shoulder brushing his, and suddenly everything clicks. The sky is scattered with stars, and from your spot on the hill you can see them stretching out for miles.
“Fred Weasley, did you bring me stargazing?” You look over to find him grinning at you, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he shrugs.
“Maybe,” he teases, throwing the blanket around your shoulders. You laugh as he uses it to pull you closer until your chest bumps his. Looking up at him, you smile and reach out a hand to cup his cheek.
“It’s perfect, Fred,” you whisper. “Thank you.” You give him a soft kiss and he pulls you closer, his arms encircling you. When you pull away, he smiles, running his hand over your hair.
And so the two of you spend the night sitting on the hill, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, sipping the coffee Fred had tucked away in the basket and looking at the stars. You try your hardest to find as many actual constellations as possible and Fred points out every dick he finds in the sky. He’s just found another, and you look over at him, laughing in the starlight and realize it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. And then it’s washing over you like a tidal wave, this feeling you’ve been holding captive, but it’s out now and all you can do is look at him and think I love you I love you I love you.
Fred turns to you, noticing your silence, and looks almost afraid at your expression. You throw yourself into him then, unable to hold back any longer, crashing your lips onto his. He’s stunned for a moment, but then he responds— and he’s doing that thing with his chin and your hands are in his hair and he grips your waist and you’re leaning him back onto the grass and you kiss him until you can’t breathe and then you kiss him some more. When you finally pull away, Fred looks dazed, hair messy and lips swollen. He grins up at you and the stars are reflected in his eyes and Fucking hell, I’m so in love with him.
“What was that for?” he asks, and it’s your turn to laugh. You roll onto your back beside him and he pulls you close, right up against his side. Tell him, your mind screams at you, but those words have power and you’re not ready for Fred to have that power yet. You could handle any other heartbreak, but not this one. Not with him. And so, you wrangle the words back from your lips, back into their box and smile, a new answer on your tongue.
“You’re just cute, is all.”
The summer finally ends on a Sunday, and it ends with burnt toast. Amid the chaos of the Weasley party preparing to leave for the Hogwarts Express, Fred had forgotten to pop the toast the two of you had planned to eat for breakfast, and now it was blackened on both sides. You laugh and smooth the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. He cups your face and looks at you seriously.
“How are you so happy all the time?” He questions, running his fingers through your hair.
“I’m not,” you reply, closing your eyes against the concern on his face. “But I am when I’m with you.”
You feel his lips against yours, and you lean into the kiss easily. His hands slide from your hair down your back as he presses you close, removing any space between you. After a moment, he pulls away and peppers your face with kisses. You laugh again and open your eyes. Fred still looks concerned, but when you smile at him he smiles back. You know he has pieced together some of the story—things Angelina and Katie have said in passing, small details you’ve let slip—but he doesn’t have all of it. You would have to tell him soon, about your fears and your ghosts, about the scars he’d been peering at all summer. But for now you just want to be happy, here, with him.
Later, you slip into Fred’s room while he’s away and pull a shirt from his dresser. You put it in your trunk, burying it deep under your clothes
On the Hogwarts Express, Fred had helped you find a car with your friends, before moving on to find his own. He left you with a kiss on the cheek, promising to find you in the Great Hall before the feast. He had disappeared before you could protest, melting into the busy aisle.
“Did he say he’d meet you in the Great Hall?” Katie had asked. When you nodded, her and Angelina shared a concerned look. Angie opened her mouth, but you stopped her.
“I’ll be fine,” you said in a tone that effectively ended the conversation.
Now, lost in the crowded hall, you regretted not chasing Fred down and telling him to just meet you in the common room, because you were decidedly not fine. You had attempted to stay with Katie and Angelina but you had been separated somewhere between the door and the entrance to the hall. You feel your heart rate rise as you desperately search the crowd for a familiar face and find nothing but strangers. Fred was nowhere to be seen, and you were starting to worry that he wouldn’t keep his word. You reach up on your tiptoes to get a better look—Fred is tall, he can’t be that hard to spot—and are knocked off balance as someone pushes past you. You manage to catch yourself before you hit the ground but your mind falls faster than your body, and now the lights are too bright and everything is too loud and you can’t breathe, but you’re trying so hard to get air to your lungs and all you can think is shit shit shit shit, because this can’t happen here. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to calm yourself down, but you can still feel the crowd moving around you. Just when you feel yourself collapsing you hear your name called out, and a pair of hands on your shoulders turn you around. You open your eyes and find Fred smiling down at you. You grab his arm, anchoring yourself, and watch his face fall as he takes in the panic in your eyes.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You close your eyes and let him guide you through the crowd. He holds you close so no one bumps into you, and by the time you leave the hall your breathing has evened out. Fred keeps you pressed against his side, asking, “Where do you want to go?”
“My dorm,” you reply, and he nods. You had had the luck to receive one of the few solo dorms, and it had been your safe haven for the past six years. You stay close to Fred as the two of you make your way through the halls, only leaving his side when you reach the door to unlock it. He follows you in, closing the door behind him.
All at once, the adrenaline leaves your body and you feel your eyes fill with tears. Fred moves closer to you, but you turn away, embarrassed. He simply hugs you from behind, squeezing you tight as you start to sob.
After a few minutes your tears lessen, and you turn in his arms. As he brushes his hand over your hair you give him a wobbly smile and whisper, “I really hate crowds.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Fred chuckles, arms dropping to your waist. The two of you stand there laughing for a moment before Fred turns serious again. He cups your jaw, thumb brushing against your tearstained cheek.
“What happened?” he asks, eyes searching yours.
“I’m fine,” you sigh. “It was just loud.”
“That’s not an answer,” Fred scoffs, his arm tightening around your waist. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I said I’m fine.” You push against his chest and he lets you go, fingers trailing down your arms. You turn away from him, facing the window instead.
“But you’re not fine,” Fred counters, voice rising. “People who are fine can stand alone in a crowd!”
“What do you want me to do?” you retort. “Tell you all my little problems?”
“Yes! That’s what I’m here for!” Fred cries. “Tell me all about all your little problems and then I can help you with them!”
“I don’t need your help,” you snap, whipping around to face him. “I was just fine before you, and I’d be fine without you.” The lie is bitter on your tongue.
“Well, I wouldn’t be fine without you,” Fred murmurs, looking down. You soften, stepping closer to him. You brush your fingertips along his jaw, prompting him to look up. You sigh. And then you finally tell him about the fears, and the ghosts. About the nights spent pacing the halls, about bitten lips and shaking hands. You talk about what it’s like to jump at every loud noise, and how it’s easier to go to class late than face the busy hallways. You tell him about the days before you had met, when you could barely eat, barely sleep, about how you either felt too much or too little. You tell him about crying, about bleeding. And when you finish, Fred holds you until you stop trembling, kissing the tears from your cheeks. It’s only one step, not much, but for you it’s dangerously close to the three words caught in your throat. They stay caught, though, and you keep your little secret one day more.
Autumn passes easily, filled with warm kisses and mischievous smiles. During the day you bump each other’s knees under desks and surreptitiously pass notes. Fred kisses you unashamedly in the hallways, not caring who sees. You eat all your meals together, his hand on your thigh under the table. At night you roam the hallways together, sometimes to pull off a scheme with George, sometimes alone. And sometimes he just comes to your dorm and the two of you sit and talk, about everything and nothing. He tells you about the joke shop and you tell him your dreams for the future. Most nights, he stays with you and you sleep restfully for the first time in years, wrapped in his arms. It’s beautiful and happy, and you’re afraid of how beautiful and happy it is because it will destroy you if it ever ends.
Tonight you decided to stay in, tired from the long week. The two of you lay in bed, Fred half on top of you, his head on your chest. You play with his hair as you tell him about the new book you’re reading.
“And then there’s the leader of the gang, he’s like a criminal mastermind and he always wears gloves, which is super mysterious, but I think—” You break off, realizing Fred has fallen asleep. You stifle a laugh, not wanting to wake him. For a while you lay there, running your hand through his hair and listening to his steady breathing. Then you feel him stir as he wakes. He shifts away, lifting his head and looking at you with the strangest expression.
“You’re my best friend.” His voice is rough from sleep, but his tone is serious.
You stare at him, dumbfounded. “George is your best friend.”
“No, you are.” Fred shifts again, propping himself up on his forearms so his face hovers over yours. He looks at you for a long moment, expression unreadable, and you blush under his gaze. Finally, he leans down, and you feel his lips against yours. The kiss is soft at first, a mere brushing of lips, but soon he’s pressing against you and you open your mouth slightly, letting him deepen it. He cups your head in his hand, tilting it to ease his access. You reach your hands around his waist, playing with the hem of his shirt. He groans when you slide your hand under it, and you smile into the kiss. He breaks away, instead pressing kisses down your jaw and along your neck. He pushes the collar of your sweater aside, and you gasp when he nips at your collarbone. You remove your hands from his waist, grabbing his head and pulling his lips back up to yours. You kiss him slowly, scraping your nails lightly across his scalp. He groans again, and you grin, breaking the kiss.
“You’re going to kill me,” Fred huffs, and you laugh. He smiles down at you, that same unreadable expression on his face. Pressing one last kiss to your temple, he lays back down, head resting against your chest once more. He wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes you tight. You bring your hand back to his hair and he sighs, relaxing into you. You sigh too, thinking about what he said. You know what it is, what it means. He has the same three words you’ve been holding onto hidden behind his lips, waiting to escape.