Fate (Fred Weasley X Muggle!Reader)

Foggy

-------- Burrow burns, 25 December 1996

A grimace was etched into my face, as the world felt as though it were pressing against me. My stomach cramped and I felt like tossing my lunch. I paced back and forth on the porch, watching the smoke curl up, fading the moon.

Dad said to stay here, I don't understand it, but he was adamant I stay here. He said, "I'd understand someday." I don't get it, I need to understand now.

A tall figure comes into view in the drive, walking fast. I turn the porch light on and a massive sigh of relief slips past my lips. I run to him jumping and latching onto him as though I were a koala. I hold on tight, wrapping my legs around him, daring him to let go. "I don't have much time, it's a miracle mom let me come here." He whispers as the porchlight turns off again. It turns off after a minute because it's broken. It makes him jump a little and I feel him tense.

I let go and search his face, it was bruised and scratched. At that moment a flash of his face when I first met him comes to mind and I just noticed how matured he'd become. "What's going on Freddy? All this stuff that happens? You disappeared for half the summer." I ramble, my eyebrows furrowing.

Fred takes my left hand in his and his caramel coffee brown eyes meet mine. He doesn't say a word as a blue spark comes from something in his hand and a glowing blue bird suddenly flies a circle around my head. My lips part as I watch it fly around me happy. My eyes return to Fred's, saucers. "I'm not from your world," he begins, "metaphorically, of course." I watch a little smirk appear. "So, just trust me when I say, even though I might disappear for a little, I'm coming back."

My face contorts into worry, but I sigh and hug him tightly. "You better."

The next morning, I snuck out and walked over to Freddy's. Smoke was still curling its way up and some flames even had yet to stop. I had never seen a building completely ash that quickly. There were items though, weirdly in perfect condition as though something had protected them. I rub my hands together and watch the warm breath show in the cold air. A single snowflake begins its descent and I watch it gently land on a wooden chest and dissipate.

More snow begins to fall as I reach the chest and bend down, opening it. Photo albums and loose photos were piled inside. I pick it up and carry it out into the grass. Its then, that I noticed the ring of the burnt-up field around the house's grave. I'm confused but shake it off, knowing that someday Fred would explain.

(I believe because she's a muggle all the moving pictures are just regular ones for her? At least that's how it is here)

I sit crisscross on my bed the chest sitting in front of me. I stare at it for a minute, questioning whether or not this would be wrong. I decided they would not care and pulled out the top album. It seems very new. I open it and start giggling, it was Fred and George in 1990 it says, they looked like absolute babies.

I looked through the multiple pictures from 90 through 92 before I met them. There were pictures with Harry and Hermione, it reminded me just how unkempt (in a good way) her hair used to be. Also, it made me wonder where they were too if they were like Fred.

I turn the page and my eyes widen a little in surprise before a warm, mirthful smile spreads on my face. I don't know why it shocked me so much that Mrs. Weasley saved pictures I was in, but it was nice to know. The picture was of the first time I came over, me and Fred on the couch. His arm was stretched out behind me and my smile was quite shy.

The last picture in the album was Fred and me, I don't even remember it being taken. It was last year and for whatever reason, we were dancing out on the lawn. The picture was taken as Fred pulled me back in after a spin. It was weird seeing it from this perspective, we just looked so happy, I remember laughing so hard. He just makes me so happy.

I pause, closing the album, my face growing red. Oh. Now I know why that thing happened that day at the pond.

I shake the thoughts away and sit upon my knees pulling the last three albums out. Setting them down, one of the loose photos at the bottom of the chest catches my eye. I swipe the others away and lift it. My eyebrows furrow and a headache pounds suddenly.

I stand, slightly lightheaded, I grab my wallet off my desk and pull out the slightly discolored Polaroid with a crease down the middle. The pictures matched. Mrs. Wesley's copy had 'Fred and Y/N, 1984' written on the back. My headache strengthens and I drop the pictures, shock still coursing through me. "Oh," I say softly.

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"Obliviated." It's a satisfying word, sounds cool. "They took your memories." Oh, so maybe not an awesome word.

"So, I had all of these memories with Fred taken from me?" I squeak, a headache starting to form.

"Yeah, because of him accidentally using magic that caused you to break your arm." Mrs. Weasley explained.

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"Freddy, dear," I whisper, studying the big dipper constellation.

"Mm?' He sounds tired, like if I don't make him get off the ground soon he may sleep right here in the grass.

I breathe out a laugh, "I don't care that they took my memories."

"Why?" He yawns, making me smile more.

"Because," I whisper even quieter, "it just shows we are meant to be." He looks over now, his face all red, he smiles, before looking away.

"Ah shut up." He says, in a kind of bashful way. He stands up and holds out his hand. "Let's go, Y/N/N."