Remember Me [ Fred Weasley ]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 / 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔

{ Song: Video Games by Lana Del Rey }

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

The last day before summer was dull. There was a silence to it, and in it we all seemed to be recovering from the shock of what had happened the night before. Cassius had tried to kill me, with no hesitation although a part of me keeps wondering how I missed the warning signs. Maybe it was because I could have never imagined that it would become this bad. Knowing the truth about what I am and what it means should have made things easier, but so far it has done nothing than to make me more afraid than ever before.

My fifth, or in reality my first, year at Hogwarts had come to an end, but leaving the dorms behind when it was time to take the train back to London didn't feel as sad as I had expected it to. All the things that have happened in the past months seemed to be imprinted in the walls, and getting away from them for a couple of months was much needed.

The train ride was different from what it usually was, for obvious reasons; Fred, Pansy and Theo were all sitting in the same compartment, me with my head resting on Fred's shoulder all the way from Hogsmeade to our destination. No one dared to ask why, and those who looked like they were about to earn themselves a lethal glare from Pansy that told them to keep their noses out of it.

Along with all of the bad came one good thing - me and Fred are finally back to being us. Even though it had gone without saying, we quickly decided that I would be staying at the burrow over the holiday. This was not something that anyone questioned as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, maybe because us being together is the most right that anything has ever been. When we had parted from our friends after getting off the train - Pansy nagging me about writing every week, Theo repeating how we would need to make plans to see each other even if I would not be going to the Malfoy manor, and Blaise spitting out every joke he could think of that involved gingers and Gryffindors - we quickly found Molly and Arthur waiting on the platform.

As soon as Molly's arms wrapped around me it became clear that no one had written to her or Arthur about anything that had been happening with me and Fred, which was quite a relief. Explaining everything that has happened since Christmas is difficult even when it comes to the people who have been around to see it, so there seemed to be no point in rehashing it all over again when all we both want is to leave it in the past. That is where it belongs, because the future is only ours.

The summer nights are all covered in a sun tinted sheen that never seems to set, and while the others are walking around the kitchen with their voices calling after one another to get the dinner ready, me and Fred are resting on the sofa on the other side of the house. Now that we are a few weeks into the summer, the nightmares are no longer keeping me awake and all seems to finally be calm, and so the past few weeks have led up to this moment when things are finally feeling normal again.

While I am resting my head on his shoulder and listening to him talk about everything and nothing all at once, Fred is stroking the back of my hand back and forth calmly. As soon as his palm lands on my thigh in the most innocent way possible, a tingling sensation briefly passes through my body as if on cue. It isn't necessarily the touch in itself, but the ideas that come with it.

My mind instantly begins to race with imaginary scenarios of how I wish we were doing so much more than just talking. I want to hear his voice closer, the sound of it vibrating against my skin until the way it tickles me has teased me to a point of insanity. I want to hear him moan my name in the arch of my neck, and I want him to be closer underneath my clothes than we are right now.

When he is in the middle of a sentence, I lift my head from his shoulder and glance over at him with what turns out to be a revealing and suggestive smirk. He eyes me curiously as if he has lost his words and is trying to figure out what I'm going to say.