Catch Me, I'm Falling | Fred Weasley

Chapter 5

Fred couldn't shake off his odd encounter. He'd been walking to his next class, minding his business when a girl had hurtled into him. She'd been soaking wet as if she'd been dunked in the Black Lake. Of course, she hadn't. No one would prank her like that but him and George.

His curiosity was a double-edged sword. Firstly, he had to find out what the hell had happened to her. Secondly, he wanted to see her again.

She'd been a pretty girl. She wasn't exactly small, but still shorter than him. Her curls had been plastered to her face, giving her the appearance of a fallen angel, looking up at him in shock. As much as he was attracted to her, it wasn't her looks that enthralled him. It was the fire in her eyes.

Fred was sure he'd never seen her around. He would have noticed. Well, at least that was what he told himself. Truth be told, he very well may have missed her. He and George had spent the majority of their time at Hogwarts making jokes and playing pranks. They'd had their fair share of attention, but that was to be expected with the shenanigans they pulled.

What bothered Fred most was that she'd run away. Run away. From him. Girls never ran from him. Or George, for that matter. And she'd known his name. The odd thing was, she didn't look like it. It wasn't recognition that had flashed in her eyes. It was sadness. The name had slipped out of her mouth. It just...popped out. It was almost as if she wasn't aware of what she was saying until she said it. Then, a veil of shock and surprise had settled over her face.

"Merlin's beard, I've gone mad," he thought.

"Oi, Fred. You alright, mate?" George asked, waving his hands in Fred's face. He was now genuinely concerned after trying to catch his brother's attention for the better part of a minute.

"Yeah, sorry George," Fred muttered, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. George, however, knew Fred far too well. It wasn't that difficult to deduce where Fred's mind had gone. He was an open book. His ears, turning a bright red, didn't help.

George smirked, giving his brother a knowing look. "So, are you going to tell me?"

Fred blinked. "Tell you what?"

"Don't play dumb. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You've been out of it since this morning. Bloody hell, Fred. What happened?"

"Nothing," Fred insisted. "Nothing happened."

George rolled his eyes. "Liar."

"I'm n-"

"Yes. Yes you are," George interrupted. Fred's eyes shifted to the floor and he bit his lip to prevent himself from saying anything. George was angry now.

"Spit. It. Out." George growled, shoving Fred into the couch.

"Hey! What was that for?" Fred licked his lip where he'd accidentally bitten it.

"Since when do you keep things from me, Fred? Who is the girl?"

"What girl?" Fred spit out, now genuinely annoyed with George.

"The girl you fancy," George shot back, unfazed.

"Oh, that girl." The realization hit Fred. Was it that obvious? "I s'pose you're right. I, um, bumped into someone. I don't know her. Might be new"

"Thank you. We can go chase after her later. Now, get your head out of the gutter. We've got a boxful of dung bombs and a classroom to bombard. Let's go."

"Let's go"

-

The victim of the day was meant to be Snape's classroom. But, that plan was discarded when Fred and George discovered that it had been flooded. Fred thought back to the sopping wet girl fleeing down the hallway. Did she cause it? If so, he'd certainly have to recruit her.