It is canon that Fred Weasley is the more chaotic brother between the twins. It is also canon that Fred Weasley dies at The Battle Of Hogwarts. But what if he never dies but his twin brother did. Although Fred survived he now carries the guilt of li...
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The creek of the floorboard was the only audible sound in the room where Fred Weasley laid wide awake with no plans of falling asleep.
Not that he could even if he wanted to. He had slept a total of eight hours in the past four days. Truth be told, every time he closed his eyes it brought him back to the day of the war, the day that he had lost everything. If he closed his eyes, or even flirted with the idea of falling asleep, his body would go into overdrive. His hands would clamp up, his heart would beat so fast it felt like he was having a heart attack, his throat would tighten, and it would feel like all of the oxygen in the room had diminished. The house he once spent his summer days away from school no longer held the feeling of home anymore.
He shifted his gaze from the exposed wooden beam to the curtainless window letting the moonlight spill into his room. He closed his eyes with a sigh when he came to the realization that he was not going to be able to sleep anytime soon. Knowing this unmistakable truth, he decided he might as well get up.
As he began to sit up the sudden movement caused his bed frame to creak. Part of him wished that he could become one with the bed, never having to leave it again, but the thought came too late. It would have taken more effort to stop himself when he was already in motion.
He sat up on the bed, his feet hitting the floor with two heavy thuds. The floor was cold to the touch, but he kind of liked it, it centered him. The cold often brought him back to reality. He rested his head in his hands, his elbows digging into his thighs. Turning his head to the right he stared at several vials of Dreamless Sleep sitting on his night table. They sat there empty, taunting him with the reminder of their effects. He had relied on the potion so much they no longer worked, he had not bothered to take one in a while.
The floorboards creaked under his shifting weight as he stood, grabbing his wand from the night table. He tried to step as lightly as possible to avoid waking the others sleeping in the house, not that they would say anything to him. All they could do was listen to the creak of the opening door from where they lay and make a mental note of the time. He told himself they couldn't hear him leave, even if he knew it was a lie.
He walked down the hall towards the stairs that would lead him down to the sitting room keeping his eyes ahead the entire time. He avoided looking at the walls covered with old family photos, the ones full of hope and genuine smiles on everyone's faces, as best he could. Their eyes were always the worst. They were so bright without the pain in them, the kind of pain that could never really be healed.
The Burrow is made up of four floors if you count the attic that acts as Ron's room. The third floor is where Fred had been spending most of his time recently. The second floor held Percy, Bill, and Charlie's rooms, though this floor was rarely occupied. Molly and Arthur's bedroom was located on the bottom floor. Their room was connected to the sitting room and the kitchen, which is where Molly spent most of her days trying to distract herself. Most of the space in the house was the staircase that connected the floor level all the way to the attic if you ever wanted to visit Ron in his room-- well, what was left of Ron's room. He had moved out soon after the war had ended.
Walking down the uneven wooden stairs Fred could see a faint yellow glow that was most likely coming from the sitting room. He was either going to find his mother awake, or she'd forgotten to turn off the light before going to bed. He hoped for the latter.
Slowly making his way down he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he made it to the last step. He was alone. This should have made him happy, there was no one around to question him on where he was going or what he was doing, but it only made him feel lonely. He walked towards the lamp to shut it off, and thankfully the floor was silent under his feet. Making his way through the living room and the kitchen he reached the door next to the sink. On the other side of the door the dark garden greeted him.
The path winding through the garden had seen better days illuminated by the moonlight, the only source of light outside. Fred stepped through the overgrown grass and gravel covering the path. A garden gnome hidden between two bushes watched Fred make his way towards a small shed.
"Lumos," he whispered. The tip of his wand began to glow, assisting the moonlight shining down.
Fred quickly looked over his shoulder towards the house, his feet firmly planted in front of the door. Once he was convinced that no one was watching him he reached out his arm towards the metal door handle, pulling the door open. The hinges let out a high pitched squeal making him mentally curse at the door.
Stepping inside he reached his left arm along the wall looking for the light switch. His right arm held his wand aloft, casting shadows, until his fingers finally found the switch. Flicking the lights on Fred found himself engulfed in brightness.
"Nox," the small, but powerful, light from his wand was extinguished. His feet automatically carried him to the back of the shed to the place that he knew all too well. If he wasn't sleeping you could find him at the back of the shed. It was full of nick-nacks that his father had collected during his time in the Ministry of Magic, "interesting muggle artifacts" is what his father would call them. When he was younger Fred loved to spend his time listening to his father talk about his theories about the purpose of each item, but now he had other interests. Interests that you would not find in the shed unless you knew where to look.
Moving deeper into the shed Fred pointed his wand at his corner, "Revelio," he whispered, still afraid someone would hear him and try to stop him. Multiple vials and cauldrons appeared in front of him, and in the center of it all was an old leather bound book.
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first I'd like to say sorry for those who have been waiting almost a year for this book *nervous laughs* I lost motivation to write and also life became really hectic. I don't know if people are going to read this or not but I am writing this to prove to myself that if I want something I have to make it myself. I have been wanting to write a villain arc story for Fred for a WHILE and here it is! I hope whoever is reading this enjoys it and please let me know.<3
You will meet our other protagonist in the next chapter but I unfortunately don't know when that will go up but hopefully soon.
I'd also like to give a HUGE thank you and appreciation to my really good friend Saray for editing this chapter and who will hopefully edit future chapters for this book. Thank you so much! <3
