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Millicent stood in the freezing stands, cheering on Slytherin. The only way to stay warm was to cheer. Tracey had attempted to nick some hot chocolates from the kitchens, but the house elves had told her to come back after the event. Of course, they weren’t standing in the sodding cold and damp for hours. It was somewhat expected that they turn up, Flint prided himself on most of his house being present to see them play. God, those idiots could make a competition out of everything.
A gust of wind blew past them as Draco and Harry sped off to some hopefully uncertain golden glint. Pansy nudged her side as she watched the Seekers continue their cat-and-mouse game. He’d bought his way onto the team. No tryouts, nothing. Pansy was livid. All her older sisters had set a precedence for great Seekers and she didn’t even get to try out. Millicent was already mentally preparing for the speech that would follow in their dorm that night. They’d heard the speech five times already.
She was pretty certain that Draco and Harry were soulmates. Harry probably didn’t know, dense as anything and raised by Muggles? But Draco knew. She was sure And he was doing a damn terrible job of showing or explaining it. Absentmindedly, Millicent scratched at the apex of her ring finger. In neat handwriting the words ‘Who said that?’ wrapped around her ring finger, like some delusional promise.
Soul marks were not easy. It wasn’t a fail-safe.
How often had Pansy wailed at her about how unfair her bond was? Millicent didn’t really understand. Sure, Pansy’s soulmate was Longbottom, but he’d always been a nice guy and they’d played together as kids. Soul Marks did not care about social conventions or about falling out of love after years of marriage. They were just trouble. A scowl settled on Millicent’s lips as she turned back to the game. Slytherin had scored, but so had Gryffindor. Nothing had really changed.
The Weasley twins hovered in front of their view, swinging their bats and joking about whatever. She assumed it was a special talent to look so unbothered in all situations. Rolling her eyes, she shifted in an attempt to look around them.
“Those twits have no idea they are blocking the view for everyone,” Tracey grumbled as she dug around in her bag for her binoculars.
The bell went off to announce another goal. Great. And they’d seen nothing because they were staring at backs imprinted with ‘WEASLEY’.
Irritation spread through Millicent, as she bellowed at the nearest twin, “Hey! Move your arse!”
Tracey and Pansy giggled as one of them whipped his head around. His deep brown eyes searched the stand. For the first time, Millicent couldn’t see the casual grin on his lips. Whichever of the two he was. She’d never made the effort to try and figure out which troublemaker was which. The only Weasley worth knowing was their Dragonkeeper brother anyway.
Those deep brown eyes settled on her, Pansy and Tracey still giggling next to her. What? Did he think he could intimidate her? Well, he had another thing coming. Her scowl deepened.
“Who said that?” The twin shouted out, and Millicent’s stomach dropped. No. No, she wasn’t ready. She didn’t want this. Her Mark itched but she resisted the temptation to scratch at it. Helpless the twin glanced around their seating area, but the Slytherins kept quiet. They weren’t going to rat her out, no matter what. She hoped no one put two and two together.
“Fred!” The twin watching from a few paces back – George – shouted over. “Come on!”
Fred. Her soulmate was Fred Weasley. His gaze roamed over the stands once more. Their eyes met for a brief moment. She could see the conflict in him. ‘Please leave’, she kept repeating in her mind and bit her lip to keep from saying anything else that might make him notice her.
Hanging his head, Fred rushed up to George and they returned to the match. If she left now then she had a chance to escape, but she’d also be incredibly obvious. Her only chance to escape without anyone asking more questions was to watch the match as normal and then leave with everyone else. With a bit of luck, Weasley would be distracted by people like Pansy, Tracey, or fourth-year Tasha Kingsted had been sitting behind them. They were all pretty. They were probably good soulmates.
“What was that all about?” Pansy sniffed and eyed Millicent.
“Probably looking for a fight,” Tracey said, her eyes following Pucey across the field. “You know how the Weasleys are.”
Millicent kept quiet. She’d already lost track of which of the ‘Weasley’ jerseys was Fred. She should have looked at the number on his back, but she’d been so preoccupied. She wrung her hands and kept her head down. Why would she be the soulmate of a Weasley? And the twins were popular, she couldn’t deny that. No, no. This was some sort of mistake.
After the match, Millicent tried to slow herself down. She needed to be gone before the Quidditch Players left their locker room. Before Fred had a chance to catch up with her. But she also needed to wait for Pansy and Tracey, running away without them would raise too much suspicion. Her Mark burned as she descended the many stairs of the stands – best plans of mice and men. She knew he was waiting at the bottom of the staircase even before she could see him.
For once, Fred Weasley was quiet. He watched them all come down. There were no tripping jinxes or other pranks. He was just there, still in his Quidditch gear, and waiting. She hadn’t meant to, but her eyes strayed over to him. Their eyes met. Millicent bit her lip, as Fred’s gaze softened. Barely noticeable, she shook her head and turned away. She’d lost track of what Pansy and Tracey were talking about. She just followed them out.
Once they were a few good steps ahead she allowed herself a glance over her shoulder, but Fred had already disappeared in the crowd. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she swallowed them down.
After that, second year passed in a blur. Millicent burrowed her longing for Fred deep down and focused on her studies. She just needed to get out. Fred made no new attempt to speak to her. She wasn’t sure if he knew it was her, but the pranks leading down towards the Slytherin common room had lessened before they stopped entirely. She couldn’t count how many times she’d tripped down the stairs in her first year because of their pranks.
In her third year, things became even more difficult. Draco had finally fessed up to Harry, but not without getting a Hippogriff sentenced to execution. Since then their annoying trumping each other had turned to Draco sulking and Harry ignoring him. The thing with Draco was that his antics always dragged everyone else down with him. She didn’t want to know about his soulmate. She also didn’t want to know about why Pansy was bullying her soulmate. So what that he was a bit of a wuss? At least Longbottom was nice. They were all well-matched. Why couldn’t they see that?
Millicent was perpetually cold. It had started when the dementors had checked the Hogwarts Express for Sirius Black. She’d never been so cold in her entire life. Cold and alone. That night she’d cried herself to sleep, her secrets buried in her heart and despite a hot water bottle she froze all night. A few weeks later her mother had sent her a warm hat for her first trek down to Hogsmeade, but it didn’t make a difference in snowy Scotland.
Shivering, Millicent leaned over the magazines, flipping through Witch Weekly. Tracey and Daphne had dragged her to Tomes and Scrolls and said something about a new romance novel, so Millicent was left to wait. ‘10 new slimming trends for healthy witches’. ‘How to charm your frown upside down!’. ‘4 Charms for a romantic winter look’. Sighing, Millicent flipped over to the next page. Charms wouldn’t help her. At least the gossip pages might be interesting.
She skimmed the pages when someone bumped into her. Warmth spread through her, and an instant blush rose to her cheeks. She didn’t have to look up to see who had joined her in front of the Charms bookshelf.
“Sorry,” Fred mumbled as he tried to reach over Millicent to grab a book.
There hovering above her were her words in her loopy handwriting on the palm of his hand extending into his little finger. Quickly, she lowered her eyes to the magazines. “It’s fine,” she whispered but kept her eyes on the pages in front of her. Pretty women giving advice on how to become even prettier. There were never girls like her in the magazines. She hated the magazines.
Flipping the page, she stared at the familiar face that blinked back at her in irritation at having his picture taken. She didn’t need to read the headline. She’d seen them all before. Millicent huffed. Couldn’t her father at least have the decency not to be caught with every floozy he met with? She didn’t understand why her mother didn’t file for divorce. ‘He’s my soulmate, puffskein.’ Well, he was a garbage soulmate. Annoyed, she flipped the page again. ‘7 Home remedies for clear skin’.
“You know,” Fred glanced at her before his gaze returned to the charms books over her head. “You don’t need those magazines. They’re just trying to make everyone feel bad …”
“What would you know about that?” Millicent snapped at him and shut the magazine. She placed her freezing hands on her chubby hips and glared. So what if she wanted to look at charms to make herself prettier? She didn’t, but what did it matter? She could do that if she wanted to.
Taken aback, Fred stared down at her, before his gaze hardened. “I was just trying to be nice.”
“Well, no one asked you!”
“Well, maybe my opinion might interest you!”
Millicent’s nostrils flared in anger. So, he knew. A cold shiver ran down her back. He had known all this time. Sure, she’d wanted space to deal with everything but it had been over a year. Cooly, she replied, “It doesn’t.”
Fred glared back defensively, as her words settled in. Before Fred could think further about her words, he spat out, “Why am I even talking to you? Who wants a fat girlfriend anyway?”
Millicent dropped her gaze away, instant tears sprung to her eyes. She needed to get out. Out. Just out. A warm hand wrapped around her wrist. “Millicent, I … I didn’t mean …”
“Oi! How dare you speak to Millicent like that?!”
Daphne and Tracey had appeared behind Fred and pushed the Gryffindor out of the way to stand in front of their friend. Millicent’s shoulders shook, as she tried to suppress the onslaught of sobs. When she raised her eyes, Fred’s gaze was still staring intently at her while Tracey and Daphne yelled at him. She couldn’t hear what they were yelling over the blood rushing in her ears. Fred mouthed an apology at her, she felt that he meant it, but it didn’t change what he’d said. Sniffling, she interrupted Tracey, “It’s fine. He just said the truth. Let’s go.”
Before Fred, or Tracey and Daphne, could say anything else she swept out of the shop and down the High Street. She didn’t want to hear it. What was the point of soulmates anyway? That didn’t save you from hurt. You could be the most beautiful person, like her mother, and still be cheated on. It was all just some cosmic joke to appease the romantics.
Millicent half jogged and ran back to the castle and hid herself away under the covers in her bed. Tears ran down her cheeks. She had known having a soulmate would hurt. She just hadn’t expected it to hurt this much. She kept her curtains drawn even when the others returned to their dorm. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about Fred, or even why they’d made a spectacle of themselves. Whatever bollocks they had to say about ‘but he’s your soulmate’, it didn’t matter. They didn’t understand.
The next day Millicent went to breakfast as if nothing happened. Most people did not notice her most days. She was glad to fly under the radar, there was no gossiping, no hushed whispers as she passed. But she could feel his eyes on her. ‘Please, don’t make a spectacle’, she whispered to herself. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to them.
She sat down between Goyle and Zabini and stared at her empty plate. Next to her, Goyle was stuffing himself as usual and although her stomach growled, she couldn’t bring herself to reach out for the porridge and fruit she usually enjoyed. With a quiet sigh, she reached for the tea and stirred in a splash of milk.
“Not hungry, Bulstrode?” Zabini asked.
“Not really.” Millicent sipped her tea when the owls swooped down to deliver the mail. Letters from home, magazines and parcels dropped onto the house tables. Greg nearly elbowed her side to catch the Daily Prophet out of the air. In the hubbub, a parchment note dropped onto her empty plate.
Millicent eyed the parchment and snatched it up before anyone else could see it. She unfolded it under the table.
Meet me under the Stands. You know where. Please. - F
Sighing, she glanced across to the Gryffindor table. Her eyes found Fred’s and, oh for god’s sake. How could one person look so much like a kicked puppy? The sadness in his eyes made her want to melt. Rolling her eyes, she nodded and then turned back to her tea. Great, now she had to walk all the way down to the pitch. She eyed the spread of food before her and rose from her seat. “I forgot something in my dorm, I’ll meet you in class.”
The others barely noticed her leaving and she was glad for it. There wasn’t enough time to run down to her dorm and make it in time for class, so she ignored the biting cold, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her woolly winter robe. At least she’d had a scarf with her. The walk down to the pitch was slippy, snow turning to sludge underneath her feet.
From afar she could already see a single person hanging around under the Slytherin stands. Millicent stopped for a moment, rubbing her Soul Mark, and took a deep breath. No time like the present. Maybe she owed Fred some explanation.
Ugh, it was too cold to be standing around. Millicent rushed the last few steps down to the pitch and then headed towards the Slytherin stands. Fred was bundled up in his cloak, a strange woolly hat and mittens. His cheeks and nose had a dusting of pink from the cold and Millicent wondered how long he'd been waiting. He must have left a good few minutes before she had and he was probably faster.
Fred cleared his throat, stepping closer. “I'm really sorry for what I said yesterday. I don't know why I said something like that …”
“Because it's the truth?” Millicent asked softly and sighed. Soft wasn't her strong suit. Not really. But she could see Fred how unhappy Fred was. “You don't have to … We don't have to force something that's not happening.”
“What are you talking about?” Fred looked puzzled, his eyebrows drawn together.
Nervous, Millicent pushed her long hair behind her ear. “Look, what you said… I've heard it all before. I see it in magazines, anyone with an opinion feels like they have a right to comment on my body. And I get it .. you'd prefer a ‘prettier’ soulmate. So, let's just –”
“Wait a second, wait a second!” He interrupted and made a move towards her to take her hands. “Gosh, your hands are freezing. Just give me a moment.”
Fred swallowed heavily, warming her hands in his. “I was being a dick. I knew it was you, but you seemed like you needed time. But when I saw you yesterday, and no one else around you for a change? I just wanted to get to know you.” He raised their hands to blow warm air onto their hands. “You don’t seem to want to get to know each other, so I got a bit frustrated … George is better at this stuff than I am.”
Millicent raised an eyebrow at him. “So your brother being nicer is your excuse?”
“No. No, excuse. I’m here, I’m apologising – trying to at least – you just don’t seem to be interested in this.”
“Well, why would I be? You obviously don’t want this.”
“You’ve been pushing all of this away! I just want to get to know you.”
They stared at one another, their voices just short of yelling. Millicent narrowed her eyes at Fred and then sighed. “My father cheats on my mother. A lot. He doesn’t care if the press sees it. She should have left him years ago, all he does is hurt her.” Hurt clawed at her chest. But how could she explain all of that now? That her mother was the most beautiful person she knew? That Millicent was everything her mother wasn’t? There was a reason she had a reputation as a big bully, she’d heard the whispers from the Gryffindors. When she’d first heard it, she’d wanted to cry, but they were right. There was nothing soft about her.
“So you’re worried I’ll hurt you? Is that it?”
“Something like that.”
Fred shuffled his feet. It was freezing cold, but for the first time in months, Millicent did not feel cold. She hung her head and stepped closer. She could feel his breath against her nose. It surprised her that Fred wasn’t that much taller than she was now, and he was two years older than her. Gently, Fred cupped her cheek and smiled at her sadly.
“I didn’t really know what to expect about all of this … So, I talked to my mum over the summer. My mum’s not slim, and I know those articles in the magazines make her sad sometimes. My mum would knock me twice ‘round the kitchen if she knew what I said. I could really kick myself.” He paused for a moment, leaning his forehead against hers. “My mum said, you probably needed some time. We don’t have to force anything or even tell anyone. Let’s just … See where things go. Nothing needs to happen yet. We can just get to know each other?”
Millicent looked at Fred and a small grin tugged on her lips. Even in the deepest winter, when Scotland saw barely any sun, Fred Weasley had freckles. Fred quirked an eyebrow at her, “What?”
“Nothing,” she said and shook her head. “Fine. Getting to know each other.”
“Fine.” Fred grinned at her, relieved when they heard the bell ring for the start of classes. “Shit, shit. You have potions, right? Come on. We need to get going. Also, you need to warm up, your hands are still so cold.”
In a sudden rush, Fred bundled his mittens on Millicent’s hands and then herded her back up the steps. For the first time, she felt relieved about her soul mark. Maybe even good. She could still murder Fred for his comment, but she was sure that other people would take care of that for her be it Mrs Weasley or her friends.
With the air cleared, the third year passed quickly. Fred backed off for the most part, especially as he realised she didn’t enjoy being the centre of attention – a flashy singing birthday card had earned him one furious glare across the Great Hall, as suddenly half the Slytherin table fell over themselves to wish her a happy birthday. Mostly they exchanged notes and quick chats in the hallway. She even managed to slip away for an hour to meet Fred under the stands again for his birthday. They fell into an easy routine, maybe even friendship.
When her fourth year rolled along, Millicent was sure that someone was planning to cause them as much stress as they possibly could. She’d nearly had a panic attack when she’d seen the requirement for dress robes on her school list and another one when her mother had dragged her to the next seamstress. To her surprise, and an encouraging letter from Fred, the appointment wasn’t as bad. She’d even found some other things she enjoyed. Fred had made himself scarce for most of the year, but she was glad that George and he hadn’t managed to cross the age line. With the addition of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students Hogwarts felt full. There was nowhere quiet.
A few weeks before the Yule Ball, Fred had sent her a note on where to meet him in a secret passageway for a moment of quiet. Millicent leaned her head back against the stone wall with a quiet giggle as they spied on people trying to ask out their crush. She tugged on Fred’s sleeve, “Look it’s Neville. He’s asking out your sister.”
“Isn’t Parkinson his soulmate?” Fred leaned over her shoulder to get a better look at the hallway.
“Yes,” said Millicent and slid the tapestry slightly more to the side for them to see. “But for some reason, Pansy has been a bitch about it since we started Hogwarts. I love her, but she’s making it all way more difficult than it has to be.”
“Mhm,” Fred grinned at her knowingly. “Alright. As far as I know, Ginny hasn’t found her soulmate yet.”
“They look cute together.”
“Yeah, but imagine Longbottom stepping on your toes.”
“Ouch,” Millicent laughed and leaned back against Fred. “Have you had your dance lessons yet?”
“According to McGonagall, we are a ‘babbling, bumbling band of baboons’. Now say that five times in a row.” She could feel Fred chuckle, as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Have you got a dance partner yet?”
Millicent hesitated before she let go of the tapestry and glanced over her shoulder. “A guy from Durmstrang asked me out. He seemed nice…? I haven’t said yes yet.” She’d wanted to. Andrey had spent some time after Care of Magical Creatures and studied with her in the library. He didn’t seem intimidated by her size.
Raising an eyebrow at her, Fred wiped a strand of her hair behind her ear with a smile. “If you like him, do it. Have fun. You can have an entire future dancing with me if that’s what you want at some point. But now? Go have fun with a guy that makes you feel special.”
A smile rose to her lips as she turned in his arm to wrap her arms around him for a hug. Happy, she buried her face against his neck and mumbled. “Thank you, Fred.”
Warm hands settled on her hips. Millicent repressed the urge to squirm. She was slowly getting used to Fred being handsy. The Weasleys were huggers. From what she’d heard from Fred, and George on occasion, their mother was the supreme hug-giver there was. Millicent was curious to meet Mrs Weasley one day. Fred nestled his cheek against the crown of her hair, whispering, “Just save one dance for me.”
The Yule Ball came and went in a flash. Millicent went with Andrey and was surprised at how many compliments she’d gotten in her sparkly silver gown. Even Zabini had given her a rare smile and compliment. It was a perfect night. She’d danced all night with Andrey and he walked her back to the Slytherin common room. She’d even received her first kiss. Perfect. Millicent had leaned against the corridor as Andrey left and then rushed in her gown down to the pitch to tell Fred about her night, for her saved dance. It was silly, but she knew Fred would be waiting outside for her rather than inside. And she was right.
As high as their year had started, the horror of the world surrounding them caught up to them by the end of the year. From there on out things would change, Millicent just knew it. Cedric’s funeral had been a wake-up call. During the summer she even heard her parents discussing whether they should transfer her to another school, but her mother had enough sense to tell her father to stick it – at least for once. So Millicent was not surprised when the Ministry decided to interfere at Hogwarts. No one should be. Cedric had died. She just hadn’t anticipated how fast things fell apart with Umbridge there.
It became nearly impossible to meet discreetly. She’d thought it’d been difficult with the other schools around, but Umbridge was everywhere she wasn’t supposed to be. There was definitely something going on at Hogwarts, she knew Fred was involved, but she dreaded to ask what. When Draco, Vince and Greg rolled up with the Inquisitorial Squad and Pansy even joined them, Millicent truly felt like she was on an alien planet. She didn’t want to think about what it might mean that Harry was running around saying Voldemort had returned and the Ministry was trying to shut him up by force. None of this was good.
The second George landed a punch on Draco, Millicent knew that it was the beginning of the end. Fred and George had spent a lot of time preparing their shop, and she’d overheard them more than once discussing whether they even needed their degree. Millicent waited for everyone to leave before taking a seat on one of the beams of the stands. Who knew when Fred would show up? She only knew he would. Eventually.
When Fred showed up he was still in his Quidditch gear. Fred was fuming. Quickly, Millicent dropped off the beam to rush up towards him. “What happened?”
“George and Harry are banned from Quidditch, and so am I.”
“What? She can’t do that! You didn’t hit him!” She cried but stopped a few feet short when she saw him shaking with anger.
“Apparently, she can, Millicent!” Fred yelled. “Fuck!”
With an exasperated shout, Fred slammed his bat against the stands. They were already breaking curfew, what was another few house points more for vandalism? Millicent did not flinch as she stepped up and grabbed his wrist before he could hurt himself. She held his gaze, while she slowly removed the bat from his hand and tossed it aside into the grass. “I know you’re upset, but please talk to me.”
Fred sniffed. Tears brimmed in his brown eyes. Immediately, Millicent wrapped her arms around him and pulled him against her. His shoulders shook as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, he could just about still reach her. She squeezed him tight, whispering silly nothings into the night air. ‘It’s fine’ – ‘Just let it out’ – ‘It’ll be fine’. She wasn’t sure that it would be, but they’d figure it out.
It was their last meeting under the stands. Shortly after Fred and George dumped school in a spectacular flourish of fireworks. Not much after that Harry’s defence group was uncovered, and as if that had brought all dominos to fall the return of Voldemort was now public and evident. Everything was hell. Her father had disappeared, and her mother wasn’t worried, but Millicent knew that he’d been under pressure at the Ministry. Sometimes it was better not to ask.
The only bright spot of her sixth year was the shop. Fred’s shop. She loved everything about it. It was bright and fun and a small relief from the terror of the outside world. She hadn’t even complained when her day out with Fred turned into shelving boxes of products. Returning to Hogwarts alone for the first time was lonely. They’d agreed to write to each other, but it wasn’t the same as meeting under the stands. Millicent tried to ignore the signs on the wall, she kept her distance from Draco, Greg and Vince. She was glad though that even Pansy had finally had enough of the boys.
She should have paid more attention.
Millicent was on her way back to the common room when she came across Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback in the hallways. She’d never run that fast in her entire life, throwing as many jinxes over her shoulder as she could until she managed to slip into a hidden alcove Fred had shown her years before. Silent tears streamed down her face. She held her jumper over her nose and mouth to stifle the sound of her breathing. Out in the hall, she heard Bellatrix screeching, she heard Greyback sniffing the air. Cold terror ran down her spine. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. Millicent rubbed her Soul Mark. She wished Fred was there.
The next funeral came and went. Millicent hoped she’d never have to go to a funeral at Hogwarts ever again. Ever. Just one more year, then she’d be out and she could … Well, what exactly? She knew Fred was working against Voldemort in some way, he couldn’t tell her how and she never asked. But what would she do once school was out? There was no way she would be able to slip into a job and ignore everything around her. She could run, but she knew her idiot of a Gryffindor Soul Mate wasn’t about to run. She wished she had run when she returned to Hogwarts and found the Carrows as her professors.
Millicent glanced around the Great Hall. They’d asked all students to the hall because of a supposed sighting of Harry Potter. She was glad that she’d still been up and wasn’t in her pyjamas like the rest of her year. It was the only time she could try to listen to the radio. The only connection she had with Fred. She tried not to draw attention to herself, tried to slip back as Harry revealed himself among the Gryffindors. When Pansy shouted out to grab him, Millicent wished the tapestry would eat her up. This was it. There was no more running. The outside terrors had caught up.
When the doors flung open, her eyes immediately found Fred among the other new arrivals. Before she could process what was happening Headmaster Snape fled through the window and the Slytherin students were being herded towards the exit, towards the dungeons. She could do that, she could keep the younger years out of the fighting. Students pressed and rushed through the narrow hallways when she heard her name being shouted.
Fred ran up to her, breathing heavily as he pushed his way through the crowd. Millicent waved at Pansy and Tracey, “Go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.” They eyed the pair with twin smirks, but a blast somewhere in the castle had them shuffling along quickly.
“Go with them. Go hide,” Fred gripped her arms and stared at her intently. “If things go sideways you run. You apparate out of here, you grab your Mum and you run.” Millicent stared down at those brown eyes that had followed her since her second year. Exasperated, Fred shook her, “Millie, are you listening? Do not under any circumstances wait outside. You run. If something happened to you, then my world would end anyway. So please, don’t discover your Gryffindor side tonight.”
Millicent gnawed at her lips. Fred was offering her a way out. A way out that might be without him. She shook her head slowly. “I’m not leaving you. Like you said, my world ends without you in it.”
“Can’t you listen to me for once!” Anguish. Fred’s expression was anguished, as he cupped her cheeks in his hands. But she couldn’t imagine leaving – running – without him. His eyes pleaded with her.
“Never, darling,” she breathed, “and you better get used to it, because this is happening the rest of your stupid life.” Millicent choked out a laugh, her breath hitched as she leaned in to brush her lips against Fred’s. Greedily, Fred deepened their kiss, drawing her in closer against his chest. He wrapped his strong arms around her, his hands settling on her hips.
“You’re going to get us both killed,” he murmured against her lips, trailing soft kisses along her jaw. His breath ghosted along her neck. Screams echoed through the hallway, followed by another explosion.
“We have got to go,” she reminded him and placed another chaste kiss on his lips. “We have a lifetime to figure this out, but right now you need to be somewhere, and I’m coming with you.”
Fred nodded and clasped their hands together, their Soul Marks – a promise. Millicent smiled at him. “Move your arse, Weasley.”