𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 | g. w

22. fred j.r

This chapter includes dialogue from the original book by She Who Must Not Be Named. Credit goes to the author.

"You'd think after everything, you two would just suck it up and be together."

"I've already told you guys, George and I have agreed to be just friends for now. And who knows? Maybe some time in the future, we figure out a way to be together for real."

I don't know if it's the sound of my voice or the beating of my heart, but somehow, I can't help but feel like my words only prove how unsure of everything I am. It doesn't take a genius to notice that I'm merely playing a part, pretending to act unbothered by this whole "just friends"-thing.

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say. Just remember this moment in the future, when you and my brother are happily married and with kids. I expect them all to be named Fred, by the way."

I sight deeply, but with a smirk on my face. I can't help but grin at the idea of me and George being together a few years from now, happy and in love. With a big house, a front porch and  a big yard in the back for our kids to play in.

"I'm not naming my kids after you, Fred."

"No?", the older twin asks, a snarky gleam in his eye. "Not even Fred Jr?". Alfie and Lee snicker at his comment, but both mutter apologies when I send them death stares.

I glare at Fred, before I resume eating my breakfast. I stab at my sausage almost violently, thinking how infuriating this whole situation has come to be.

"Where is George by the way?" I ask after a moments silence.

"Oh, he didn't tell you?", I shake my head. "He's preparing."

"Preparing for what?", confusion written all over my face. "Please don't do anything stupid. I can't imagine Umbridge being too happy with whatever you boys have planned."

"Don't worry your pretty little head, Rune."

"So are you going to tell me about whatever it is you're planning or what?"

The boys all smile knowingly at me.

"All in good time, love. All in good time." Alfie mutters, his smile growing wide.

Dear Merlin. What do these boys have planned?

(...)

I find out pretty soon just what the boys have planned. Turns out, they weren't exactly preparing something small or insignificant, but rather something much more impactful. I couldn't help but let a laugh escape me once I saw the two gingers hop on their broomsticks after having set off Godric knows how many firework displays in the Great Hall. It didn't exactly hurt to see that unamused expression linger on Umbridge's face when she realized the floor had turned to quicksand either.

"We won't be seeing you", Fred tells Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick. I can't help but feel my lips stretch into a smile at his words. They are finally doing what they've always talked about. I couldn't be more proud of them.

I just would miss them, that's all.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch", says George, mounting his own.

Fred looks around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd. "If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes", he says in a loud voice, "Our new premises! Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat", adds George, pointing at Professor Umbridge, who's face has now contorted into that of someone furious. I couldn't help but let a chuckle escape me, satisfied to finally see the pink toad being put in her place.

"STOP THEM!" shrieks Umbridge, but it's too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closes in, Fred and George kicks off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looks across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves", he says, grinning from ear to ear.

And Peeves, who I had never seen take an order from a student before, sweeps his belled hat from his head and springs to a salute as Fred and George wheels about to tumultuous applause from the students below and speeds out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset. Before they're completely pit of view though, I catch George sending me a cheeky wink, my cheeks turning a pink shade at the action. As usual, he knows what he's doing.

I can't help but feel a mixture of happiness, pried and melancholy. Two of my best friends just left the one place where I spent pretty much all of my time, and al though I couldn't be more happy for the both of them and their massive achievements, I can't seem to fathom that I'll be spending another two years without them.

How will I ever survive?