Fred

You weren’t supposed to be there.

You’d only taken the long way back from the library because Peeves had flooded the main staircase again, and now your shoes squeaked softly against the old stone as you walked through one of the quieter corridors near the Astronomy Tower.

The castle felt different up there at night.

Wind rattled the windows. Torches flickered low. The whole corridor smelled faintly like rain and old parchment.

You almost walked straight past the alcove before you heard your name.

You stopped immediately.

“Honestly, George, I can’t make it any more obvious.”

George snorted. “You could try actually telling her.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Because then I’d die.”

You frowned slightly.

The voices echoed from around the corner, hidden behind one of the large stone arches overlooking the courtyard below.

You shouldn’t listen.

You knew that.

But then Fred spoke again.

“She doesn’t get it,” he complained. “I flirt with her constantly.”

“Your version of flirting is stealing her quill and calling her annoying.”

Fred ignored him. “I walk her to class. I save her a seat at meals. I let her borrow my notes.”

George let out a dramatic gasp. “Not the notes.”

“You know how much I hate sharing notes.”

You could practically hear Fred glaring.

“And she still acts like I’m just…” He made a frustrated noise. “Fred.”

There was a pause.

Then George said, quieter this time, “Mate. You are Fred.”

“Shut up.”

You could practically picture Fred running a hand through his hair the way he always did when irritated.

““She smiled at Diggory today,” Fred said suddenly, like he’d been holding the thought in for hours.

George let out a long, suffering groan. “Oh, here we go.”

“She smiled at him, George.”

“I’m pretty sure she smiles at everyone,” George replied.

“Not like that,” Fred argued immediately.

“You are genuinely unbearable when you fancy someone.”

Fred didn’t answer immediately.

When he finally did, his voice was quieter than before.

“She looks at me like I’m just joking all the time.”

Something in your chest twisted.

“I mean, I get it,” he continued. “I joke about everything. But sometimes I’ll say something real and she just laughs.” A pause. “I don’t think she’s ever actually considered that I could mean it.”

Your face burned instantly.

Because suddenly every wink, every lingering touch, every “sweetheart” and “darling” replayed in your head all at once.

“Oh,” George said, sounding almost sympathetic now. “That’s actually a bit sad.”

“Thanks.”

“You should still tell her.”

Fred immediately scoffed. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because if she looks at me like I’m insane, I’ll have to throw myself off the Astronomy Tower.”

George hummed thoughtfully. “Fair.”

Your stomach flipped so hard it hurt.

You should leave.

You really should.

But you can’t