sapphire || fred weasley

forty-two

Triggering and mature content, viewer discretion advised.

Leaves didn't turn green and flowers didn't bloom that spring.

It was late March and Beatrice hadn't seen Fred since the unexpected encounter they had in the Leaky Cauldron a month back.

Beatrice was still hooking up with Adrian to take her mind away from Fred, which was all she could truly think about since the break up. She tried healing. She tried and hard but she simply couldn't move on.

One didn't just move on from Fred fucking Weasley.

He was no better.

While Beatrice was trying her best to keep going, which included going out with her friends every week and sleeping with someone else, Fred had found solace in his bedroom.

When he was not doing his regular shift and additional tasks at the shop or complying with what the Order demanded him to do, he would be found in the darkness of his room.

He only had space in his head to think about Beatrice. She was in his dreams every single night. There was no escape.

George initially thought that after the first two months, Fred would slowly start going back to his old self, but he hadn't. Lee and the rest of their friends were worried that he might never be the same without Beatrice, hence why they chose to intervene his self destruction before it was too late.

Fred was lying on his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants as he listened to Bea's favorite songs in a mix he had made for her before everything came to an abrupt end. His eyes were closed as he mouthed the songs' lyrics and didn't notice as his door was basically kicked open by none other than his twin.

"See," George pointed at Fred with his head as Angelina, Alicia and Lee stood behind him. "I'm telling you this is all he does besides drinking himself to sleep every other night."

"Don't forget the smoking," Lee added as the four went inside the dark room. "The place smells like a bloody chimney."

"He really isn't looking great," Alicia inspected Fred's sunken features. "Is he even eating?"

"If you count Bea's favorite cereal as a meal, then yes," George mumbled. "He really does look rough."

"None of you are helping," Angelina said annoyedly. "We have to be loving and supporting and find him coping mechanisms to take his mind off of her."

"Since when are you all for loving interventions?" Lee snickered.

"Since I didn't know how bad he looked," she sat on the edge of Fred's bed.

"Go away," Fred grunted, not bothering to open his eyes until the headphones were snapped out of his ears. "What the fuck are you all doing here?"

"We're doing an intervention," Alicia sat on the other side of the bed and began looking through the stack of moving polaroid pictures of him and Beatrice he kept on his bedside table. "Why are you keeping all of these if they're gonna make you sad?"

"Can you stop looking through my shit," Fred said through gritted teeth and sat down, snapping the stack of small moving images from Alicia before she could reach the more explicit ones.

"Look Fred, we all know that you're miserable and sad that you and Beatrice are over and shit but you have to get out of these four walls," Angelina said in the most loving tone she managed to voice out. "We're going out tonight and I'm not taking no for an answer and who knows, maybe at the end of the night you and-"