Isn't He Lovely • A Fred Weasley Story

e n v y: Draco Malfoy

~ Draco Malfoy's perspective; set during the week + 1/2 that Eloise is at the Burrow

~ Enjoy <3

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I love her so much it's nauseauting. 

I don't even know why, but I do. I mean, I know why I think, but I don't, at the same time, it's just so much, and it's all the time, and I can't seem to stop.

I wish I didn't. I wish that I had never set eyes on Eloise Baker. I wish she hadn't flashed me that wonderfully cheeky smile at fourteen years old and jutted out her hand in the hallway. I wish I hadn't sneered at her, instead of shaking it and offering a smile in return, because my pathetic friends were watching me. They always watch me... my every move, my every word, all of it.

And now, I can't have her. 

But that's okay. I'm okay with that. If Eloise is happy, I'm happy.

I just wish I was as truly happy as her.

The night she came to my window, smiling atop her broomstick and holding out her hand for me to take, I thought I'd never find another person as amazing as Eloise. How does she do it? How does she look at someone, someone who's done nothing but hurt people, bring others down, including her, and still manage to offer them a hand?

I knew when we were lying beside each other on that hilltop, underneath the stars, I had to tell her how I felt when I was around her. I truly wasn't trying to steal her away, or anything ridiculous like that... God knows a girl like her would pick Slytherin's fake, crude Draco Malfoy over charming, confident Fred Weasley with a shiny smile and perfectly timed jokes.

How I wish I was friends with that Fred Weasley. I can see why she chose him. He's one of the funniest people I've ever met... but of course, I stifled every laugh around him, plastered looks of disgust on my face if he talked to me... because Father would have my neck if he knew his son was uttering a word to the Weasley family. My stupid friends would tell their parents, who would tell my dad, who would beat me down with the same cruel words and make me feel like nothing. A wonderful bloke, my old man.

I envy Fred... I envy the way he makes everyone smile, the way he knows just what to say in every moment... the way he got the girl out of being a truly good person.

There was... one time, that I never told anyone about, that I've always remembered. With Fred.

It was when I was in my fifth year, his sixth...

"Oh. Great."

I turn at the sound of a voice, for it startled me due to the fact that I'm supposed to be alone in Snape's empty classroom studying after school, where I can have some peace and quiet. With my own thoughts, without the voices of my nagging "friends", without the voice that comes out of me when I'm with them. Just quiet. 

But when I turn, I'm looking at Fred Weasley standing in the doorway with a flat, exasperated look on his face and a bucket and sponge in both hands. 

I gulp, setting down my quill. "Uh... what are you-"

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Malfoy, I'm just here to serve detention for a half-hour." He walks into the classroom without even looking at me. 

I stare at him, hesitating before saying, "usually... Snape lets me study on my own in here... it's usually empty..."

"Well, I'm so delighted that you have such a special relationship with your Professor," he rolls his eyes while already dipping the sponge in water. "McGonagall ordered me to this classroom, alright? And if it's not such a bother, I'd appreciate it if I could fulfill this detention without your berating insults."