M A R S H. // Bill Weasley ♡

☾ fall of 1994 ☾

"Bloody hell, the Triwizard tournament. I wasn't expecting that," Frankie claimed walking through the halls to Angelina Johnson as they walked the newly sorted Gryffindors to the common room.

"Barbaric if you ask me," Hermione chimed in.

"Totally," Angelina replied.

"It's total rubbish that we can't enter, were practically 17," Fred said, he and George entering the crowd out of nowhere.

"Where have you two been?" Frankie asked in a strict tone.

"Flirting with the Beauxbatton girls," Ginny replied, next to Hermione.

"We weren't the only ones, so was Ron," George gasped.

"I wouldn't call it flirting though, more like babbling," Harry laughed.

"Shut up Harry," Ron responded, catching a glimpse at Hermione.

"All of you boys disappoint me, into the common room, now," Frankie replied, giving Fred a shove.

"Hi Angelina," Fred smiled as he passed her on the way in.

"Sod off Fred," she replied.

The first task was nearing, Ron was still mad at Harry, Hermione was working on S.P.E.W., and  Frankie and the twins had begun selling their products at school in secret of course. Frankie had already sent Bill two letters with updates on what she could only assume was going to be another ridiculous year, with no response. She was writing a third one.

Bill,

Maybe you're busy. But I can't stop thinking about you. Your voice burns inside my mind all hours of the day and most nights. Sometimes I think about what it would feel like to be held by you. You've held me, but the want that I have for you isn't there. I imagine your lips on me, you taste of honey, I can still smell your shampoo. You are all I've ever wanted and at this rate, I don't think I'll ever get over you. I am susceptible to your charms, entirely. And christ you're tall.

Completely yours,

Frankie

Frankie sat with the letter for quite a while, in the common room, littering it with drawings of flowers. "Whatcha got there?" Fred asked coming up behind Frankie, leaning over her shoulder to take a peek at the letter. "My goodness, you sap," Fred smiled. George took a seat next to her.

"What is it?" George asked, now taking a look.

"It's a letter, confessing my love for your brother," Frankie replied plainly. She clutched the parchment, rubbing her thumbs across it. She looked over the words again.

"Christ you're tall?" George stifled a laugh. "That's your final thought?"

"He is, it's alluring," Frankie looked at George before tossing the letter into the fire in front of her.

"Ah! That was your chance!" Fred cried, leaping over the couch, landing next to Frankie. "He probably would have come straight here to sweep you off your feet as soon as he read that," Fred pushed her shoulder.

"I seriously doubt it," Frankie replied.

"Well, now you really can't come complaining to us. You've given up Frankie!" George exclaimed.

"And so what if I have?"

"The Frankie we know and love would never," George declared.

"Yeah you'd probably go to the ends of the Earth to get into our brother's pants," Fred announced.