❝ a darkness that holds me,
and loves when I bleed,
it locks all the doors and then hides all the keys,
wish someone had told me what I couldn't see,
a glimmer of hope that was staring at me ❞
fred weasley x fem!oc
golden trio era
[poa...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
AFTER ALL THE LAST MINUTE decorations and fixes to slanted bowties and rotated flower pots, it was nearly three in the following afternoon; just half an hour before both Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour would be united in marriage. Harry, Ron, George, and Fred all stood outside the great white marquee that was set up in the orchard; each of them clutching onto seating plans and waiting to escort the herd of oncoming guests to their seats. Harry had taken a large dose of Polyjuice Potion right before stepping outside The Burrow, now having bright red hair, wearing clumpy clothing, and being introduced as 'Cousin Barry'. Unfortunately, with the pestering that came from both the bride and groom's mothers, Rebecca had taken some for herself too.
Her skin was significantly lighter, and her eyes had changed to the colour of river-water, her hair the colour of molten silver, long and feathery and nothing like before – and all because both the twins had stealthily distracted one of the employees at muggle jewelry shop and taken a few hairs from one of their customers.
And as beautiful as she thought the muggle girl was, Rebecca hated the way she looked. She couldn't help but to linger and stare and poke at her suddenly changed features in every reflective surface she came across. She had taken a long shower, scrubbing furiously at her suddenly freckle-covered body. She had stepped out of the bathroom, her skin red and raw and avoiding any mirror or shiny surface that she might've see her face in. Even once fully dressed, it all felt off. She had picked out the dress two weeks ago, but she had looked like herself then. Now, the forest green gown looked wrong.
"Wow," A familiar voice uttered from the doorway, making the witch jump slightly in surprise and glance over her shoulder through the mirror, "you...you look..."
"Nothing like myself?" Rebecca supplied lowly, tugging at the waistline of the dress awkwardly.
"Well, yes," Fred began, stepping further into the room once he had shut the door behind himself, "but you look great regardless."
"I'll pass your compliments onto the pretty muggle I stole the face from later." She insisted dryly, fighting off the urge to change back into pajamas and blow off the whole wedding.
And as if he had thought the same thing, he murmured out a quick, "Hey," with a small frown, he took the final few steps to stand behind her figure, peering at both their reflections in the large mirror, "you know, we don't have to go –"
"Don't be ridiculous, Fred," Rebecca scoffed quietly, stopping herself from running a hand down the side of her face – Madame Delacour would not be happy to see her work ruined – turning around to peer up at the concerned ginger, "it's your eldest brother's wedding, you can't miss this – your mum would be furious," Her voice lowered a smidge, "especially when Percy already won't be here."
