The Wingman | Fred Weasley x Reader ✓

9. Silly Things

Y/n had been avoiding Fred very well the whole day, but there was one place she couldn't - their joined detention with Umbridge. She was the Head Girl so there was no way she would miss it. Fred, given the opportunity, wouldn't mind skipping, but he had to talk to Y/n about Harry's potential classes.

He definitely didn't use the detention as an excuse to see her as well, not at all.

He'd arrived early without realizing it. His stomach was already starting to hurt from hunger, but he could easily just go to the kitchens after detention and get some food. Hopefully he could convince Y/n to come with him.

Y/n arrived not too long after. She didn't even spare him a look as she stood in front of the door.

''Hi.'' Fred dared speak.

''Hello.''

Okay, at least she was talking to him. ''I need to talk to you.''

''There's nothing to talk about.''

''It's not about the George situation.'' That seemed to grab her attention and she finally looked at him.

''Fine. We can talk about it after detention. It's time.'' She'd taken a look at her watch before knowing three times on the door.

''Come in!'' Umbridge's high-pitched voice rang from inside. Y/n pushed the door open and walked in, Fred hot on her heels.

The office was pink - furniture, walls, Umbridge herself. And it was filled with plates on the walls, on which there were pictures of cats. They were making noises left and right, and Fred and Y/n realized this was going to be a very annoying one hour.

''Come, come, sit down.'' Umbridge gestured towards the two chairs she'd placed in front of her desk and the two seventh-years sat down. There were two pieces of parchment in front of them. ''You'll be doing some lines for me today. No, no, you needn't your own quills. I have some for you.''

Fred and Y/n had both bent down to take their quills, but straightened up and shared a look upon the professor's words. Umbridge held out two red quills. ''Now, each of you will be writing 'I must not disturb and use foul words during class'.''

''How many times?'' asked Fred, ready to get this done and over with so he can talk to Y/n.

''As many as it takes to sink in.'' Umbridge had an odd smile on her face, giving Y/n the creeps.

Y/n looked down at the parchment, realizing something. ''You haven't given us any ink.''

''There's no need for that. Just write.''

Y/n wondered if this was something like a magical pen as she touched the parchment and wrote the first I. Red ink seeped in the paper as she continued writing the sentence, quickly finishing and starting to write it a second time.

By the fifth time, the back of her hand had started to itch. She scratched it once and continued writing. By the tenth sentence, her skin started to feel like as if something was scratching her hand repeatedly, and by the fifteenth she finally looked at her hand properly.

The outline of the sentence she was wiring was getting carved into the back of her hand, bleeding in some spots that had opened up. Her eyes widened slightly, but she tried not to react. She looked towards Fred, who'd written a few lines more than her but had an identical injury. He didn't acknowledge it, much like her. They were writing with their own blood.k

That was the moment Y/n truly realized the woman was mad.

''Something wrong, Miss L/n?'' Umbridge asked.

''No, Professor.'' She leaned back over her paper and continued writing.

By the thirtieth line a streak of blood had started to drip down her hand and her handwriting was starting to become wobbly. Fred spared her a look, but was scared that if he spoke she'd end up giving them extra detention and then she'd have to suffer more.

After about an hour, each of their hands were bleeding out on the table, but neither of them made any reaction to it. They'd started writing a second parchment and Y/n was feeling lightheaded by now.

''Alright, that will be enough for today.'' Umbridge said, putting her hand out for the students to return their quills. ''I hope the message has sunk in. If it hasn't, I have no objection to doing this again tomorrow.''

''Pretty sure we're fine, Professor.'' Fred picked up his bag with his good hand and looked at Y/n, who's bad hand was slightly shaking and still bleeding. She picked up her bag as well and the two left.

''Holy shit.'' Y/n finally cradled her hand with her other one once they were far enough from Umbridge's office. ''This woman is crazy. How could she do this to students? Rowena, do you think how many first-years I've seen get detention with her? Holy, it hurts.''

Fred grabbed his wand out of his robes and then Y/n's hand. ''Episkey.'' The sentence closed up, but you could still see the words leaving a small scar behind. Fred casted a charm to clean her blood as well.

Y/n couldn't help but watch Fred as he worked on her hand. Why was he making it so hard for her? She understood that he couldn't go behind his brother's back and date the girl he likes, but why did he have to be so nice to her? If he suddenly started to hate her this would've been so much easier. But no, he had to be perfect, doting, nice Fred Weasley.

''You're done.''

''Thanks.''

She quickly fixed Fred's hand as well, then pocketed her wand. She felt her stomach grumble. ''I hate detentions during meal times. I'm starving.''

Fred grinned, realizing he wouldn't have to persuade her. ''Let's go. We can talk there.''

Y/n had completely forgotten Fred wanted to talk with her due to the pain and was getting curious now. The two made it to the portrait with the fruit bowl and Fred tickled it, opening the way. He went in first and Y/n followed.

She didn't know if she should feel annoyed or flattered when Fred offered her his hand to help her get down from the whole, but she thanked him nonetheless.

Upon hearing they haven't eaten, the house elves quickly whipped them up some dinner and had them sit down on a table. Fred looked around to make sure there were no elves too close and told Y/n about Hermione's idea.

"Fred?"

"Yes?"

"You told me this two weeks ago."

". . . I did?" Fred genuinely couldn't remember telling her. Maybe he did tell her and decided to block it out of his mind. Maybe that was his excuse to spend some time with her. His subconsciousness has really started playing tricks on him, huh?

"Sorry, love." Each of their eyes widened at the nickname that slipped past his lips. "Sorry," Fred mumbled and looked down at his plate, but there was a small smile on his face.

Holy shit, he called me love. Y/n didn't know what to feel.

Silence fell upon them as they continued eating. Y/n couldn't help but enjoy Fred's company, even though they sat in silence. She dared steal another look at him, how his - now - shorter ginger hair suited him, the freckles on his face barely visible in the dim light, and the grease around his mouth from the chicken he was eating.

''Something wrong?'' asked Fred upon noticing her looking at him.

''Nothing. I'm fine.''

She knew she couldn't be with him, but just for tonight, she will allow herself to be a silly school girl eating dinner with her silly school crush and pretend like she had a chance with him.

Just for tonight.