Wonder Wizards (Fred/George Weasley x Reader)

Draw a Blank

The sobs and screams stuck in your throat as the world went black, your pained cries of agony and grief fizzled into a dull white noise at the back of your head. Your chest felt hollow, anxiety warped and strangulated your lungs.

You cried for the future you had forcibly seen, the phantom grin etched onto the pale face of Fred Weasley, vacant eyes devoid of life, scrawled into the forefront of your mind.

"That is how their stories end".

In the midst of your mourning, your wails gradually became clearer, as if your own yowls began at the end of a distant tunnel, racing towards your eardrums like a fleeting train.

You felt it then. Everything you had seen, everything you had heard in that cottage in the forest, morphing into a long lost memory. The image of Juliet stood in her bedroom holding the notebook that damned her, pulled from your brain.

Then that faraway memory became foggy. You questioned if it had really happened. Had you just made it up?

You gripped onto that small experience, onto the revelation that she was a seer. A good one at that. She had seen it all, planned it all. You had played into her hands, given her exactly what she wanted. Quickly, the recollection slipped from your fingers, grooves of your intellect unable to hang on.

The memory faded, scrubbed clean.

The living room of the Burrow came into focus when you shot bolt-right up on the couch. Drenched in a cold sweat those same screams lacerated your dry vocal cords. Beside you once lay a sleeping George who had slumped over in the armchair in his slumber, and in a sudden fright had lept to your side.

"Y/N? What's the matter? What's wrong?" his voice was panicked, startled awake by the noises you had made. His eyes were wide and tired, but still sweet and caring, colour drained from his face from the scare.

Your chest caved in, denied the ability to take in a well needed breath. You both stared at each other with matching shocked expressions.

"Fred," you finally said. "Where's Fred?!" Your words were frantic, clutching George's arm to hurriedly elicit a response. "He's upstairs," George replied, stunned and a little confused - bless his heart. With that you scrambled from the couch and in a blink were flying up the creaky staircase of the Burrow.

"Y/N? What's wrong? What's the matter?!" George called up after you, soon making haste to follow you upstairs when you didn't respond.

Your heart was in your throat, lungs filled desperately but your brain didn't register any intake of oxygen. All you were focused on was Fred, yearning to find him sleeping peacefully in bed.

On your way up, Hermione and Ginny were standing at the top of the staircase obviously wondering what the hell was happening. But you looked through them, briefly you noticed their mouths moving but you didn't hear what they were saying over the blood pounding in your ears.

Ginny looked at George horrified, to which he only shrugged and continued to stay on your heels. They had heard your screams clear as day, even the neighbours a mile or two away could have heard them.

Knocking your knees against the stairs, you forced your way past Ron and Harry who were making their way downstairs - you had startled them also, unsurprisingly. On the second floor landing stood the Weasley parents, Molly hurriedly tying her dressing gown and Arthur nearly tripping over his own slippers.

Molly's eyes widened when she saw you, and quickly softened when she saw the panic in your face and the beads of sweat forming at your hairline. "Y/N dear, what's the matter?" she outstretched her arms to hold you but you brushed past her, gently pushing her arms away.