MISCHIEF MANAGED// FRED WEASLEY X READER

018. Almost is not Enough

Fred's Disclaimer: The author of this book does not own Harry Potter, but this chapter may change things...

"One last thing before I let you all leave for bed!" Dumbledore said, waving his arms in the air. "We've been having a bit of difficulty securing the spells in the dorms. This means--" There was a loud burst of cheers from the crowd. Professor McGonagall cast a disapproving look at everyone. Dumbledore merely smiled. "This means that boys will indeed be able to enter the girls' dorms-" Cue the loud whoops. "--However, I trust that no one will get up to any hanky-panky." 

Boy was he terribly wrong. 

"This is bad," Hermione said with a loud groan. "How could Dumbledore not have found the time to fix the barriers?" She sighed. "I mean, it's quite simple magic..." 

"This is great," George said with a wide smirk. "For educational purposes," He changed his voice into a falsely mature tone. "Now I'll be able to study with twice as many people." 

"Oh sure," Harry said convincingly. "Sure, George." 

"Study, you say," Fred said with a wink. "Yes, I'm sure there'll be loads of studying. Loads." He raised his eyebrows at me. "Y/N, fancy studying with me tonight?" 

I rolled my eyes. "We don't even have any homework, dumbass." 

Fred looked unabashed. "It's always good to be prepared," He flashed a smile. "You know me, Love. I've always been good at taking charge.."

"What was in your pumpkin juice?" Ron said with mild interest. 

"Password?" The Fat Lady said as we approached. 

"Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me." 

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which we all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. 

Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and Harry distinctly heard her mutter "Slave labor" before bidding them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory.

"Off to bed so soon?" Fred called. "Aren't you going to scheme with us on how we can enter the Tournament?" 

"People have died, Fred," Hermione said darkly, her back disappearing up the stairs. 

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly. "The champions will get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!" 

"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons. . ." He turned to Harry. "What d'you reckon? Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older.... Dunno if we've learned enough..." His eyes widened. "Blimey, though, Harry's done more stuff than all of us combined." 

Harry brushed this off. "Not really."

I flopped down on the couch. "Well, let's see. In first year, you stopped the evil Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher from getting the Philosopher's Stone. In second year, you defeated the basilisk and closed the fricking Chamber of Secrets--" 

"Third year, you managed to stun Snape," Ron chimed in. 

"What's next, eh Harry?" George smacked him playfully on the shoulder. "Defeat a dragon, probably." 

"No, he's definitely going to take Hermione on about her new house elf obsession," Ron whispered in a low voice, even though Hermione was already up in the dorms. 

"Don't be dumb, Ron," Fred said. "That's impossible." He smirked. "When Hermione thinks she's right, no one can convince her otherwise." 

"Damn, right," Ron said with a slightly terrified expression. "Honestly though..." He trailed off, seemingly deep in thought. "Well, I'm off to bed." He glanced at Harry. "Coming?" 

"Yeah, I'm coming," said Harry, looking at me. "Are you going to try and get in?" 

I shrugged. "I don't think so." 

"Come on, Potter, why not?" Fred rolled his eyes, coming up to stand right in front of me. It was only then that I noticed how much taller he'd really gotten over the summer. Last year I was up to his eyes, but this year, the top of my head would fit right under his chin. 

"I don't fancy dying over some stupid cash prize," I pointed out. "A thousand galleons, or life?" I shake my head. "I don't think so." 

Fred stared down at me for a few seconds. "Lame." 

"Besides, just think about all the trouble you'll be in when Dumbledore's found out that you cheated his age line!" I exclaimed. 

Fred scoffed. "I wonder how he's going to decide who's in and who's out?" 

"Well, g'night," Harry said, waving as he walked up the stairs. 

Soon it was only the twins and I still awake in the common room. The clock beside the fireplace read 10:15, so it was probably time to get to sleep. 

"I'm--" George cut himself off with a yawn. "Exhausted." He tapped his feet on the carpet before walking towards the staircase. "Goodnight lovebirds." And with that, he disappeared up the staircase. I could hear him laughing all the way. 

Fred and I sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. 

His demeanor had changed considerably from before when we were surrounded by other people. He almost seemed...shy? But that couldn't be right, because Fred Weasley always knows what to say. 

"So...the tournament," I said vaguely. I stood up, going to sit on the same couch as him. He just looked at me. Something changed in his expression and he leaned forward slightly. 

Almost like he was going to kiss me. 

And the strangest thing was...I kind of wanted him to. 

I started to move closer, until I could nearly count every freckle on his face. My breath hitched in my throat. 

And then he moved back. 

My face was bright red, nearly the shade of his hair. I leaned back against the couch, crossing my arms. 

"Er, goodnight Y/N," Fred said, tipping in imaginary hat, before walking up the stairs without another glance. 

I guess I imagined it.