MISCHIEF MANAGED// FRED WEASLEY X READER

024. A Confession of Some Sorts

Fred's Disclaimer: The author this story does not own Harry Potter and....this chapter...that's all..just this chapter...

Approximately an hour later of arguing, they finally came to the conclusion that I would have to compete. Why they didn't just come to the agreement that I was too young, hence I didn't have to compete was beneath me. 

When I went back to the Great Hall, most of the students had gone to bed already. A few had remained at the Gryffindor table. 

"Y/N, did you—" Harry asked, the second I got back. 

"No," I said angrily. "I didn't. And I don't want to compete." 

"We believe you, Y/N," said Hermione, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I heard how you talked about the Tournament." She glanced down at the table. "Who would put your name in?" 

"No idea," I blew out a long breath, still fuming inside. "They said I have to compete." 

"What?" Hermione leaned forward. "But that's dangerous!" 

"I know," I closed my eyes for a second. "I don't even want to. Cedric is the school champion. Not me." I snagged a last treacle tart from the plate, but it had lost it's appeal. "The others were so angry." 

"Maxime and Karkaroff?" 

I nodded. 

"Did you tell them you didn't want to compete?" Harry inquired. 

"Well, yeah," I said, placing the treat back down on my plate. "I told them I didn't put my name in and I didn't want anything to do with the dumb Tournament." Rolling my eyes, I continued—"It's stupid of Dumbledore to go on about how it's tradition for everyone who's name get's pulled has to compete." 

"Yeah." Hermione agreed. 

"I mean, everyone else signed up for it," I huffed. "And now I'm going to have to risk my life so that they can have their show? It's sick. Honestly." 

"Come on," Hermione said. "You should get some sleep." 

She cast looks at the others, following me out of the Hall. 

"A word, Y/N?" A voice called from behind a pillar. 

"Er—yeah," I said, nodding at Fred. "I'll be there in a minute Hermione." 

"Okay," She said, heading up the stairs. 

Fred was standing right by the door when I walked over to him. 

"Outside," He muttered darkly. 

Rain was bucketing down and it was nearly dark, besides the dim lights coming from the castle. The moon was full, shining down on the black lake. I was reminded omnisciently of how I fell in, just at the beginning of term. It feels like a lifetime ago. 

"It's raining," I said, as Fred stepped right into the rain, not caring as his shirt got soaked through. 

"Come on, Y/N," Fred said, obviously not caring about the rain. "I need to talk to you." 

"Is this about why you've been so weird lately?" I asked, wincing as droplets pattered down on my head, soaking through my hair. "Because—" 

"Stop," He said, slightly angrily. "Don't. You're the one who's in a dangerous Tournament. I haven't been—" 

"Me?" I asked, laughing out of spite. "I didn't sign up for this!" I shook my head. "You're the one who's been weird and moody since the World Cup! Lashing out at Cedric all the time and ignoring me whenever you don't feel like talking?" 

Fred didn't answer, storming off towards the lake. 

I was tempted to go back into the castle, but I was already on a roll. "And besides that? The fact that you don't believe that I didn't put my name in the fucking Cup!" 

He whirled around, raindrops spraying from his hair. 

"Of course I believe you, Y/N!" Fred scowled in the direction of the lake. "You honestly think I don't believe you?" 

"I don't know what to think anymore," I said, half exasperated. "You haven't been acting like yourself at all! After that day in potions you've completely been ignoring me! And that day on the couch when we..." I trailed off, getting lost in thought. "You think I want to be in the fucking Triwizard Tournament? Because I'd be glad for you to take my place, okay? Then you can risk your precious life for 10 thousand galleons if you think that's all you're worth!" 

"Don't you get it?" Fred retorted. "I don't want you to be in the tournament. I don't want you to compete at all. The whole thing is screwy and I don't want you to be in it!" 

My face clouded with confusion. "What?" 

He laughed. "In fact, I hate the whole idea of the Tournament. It's fucking stupid, alright?" 

"You don't want me to be in the tournament." 

"Of course not!" Fred muttered. "It's dangerous. You heard Dumbledore talking about the death toll!" 

"That's never stopped you before," I argued. "Why do you care so much, anyways?" 

"Because I love you, Y/N!" 

Before I could react, he stepped in, hands landing firmly on my waist and lips meeting mine. 

What. The. F—