𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

incomplete (f.w)

Pureblood expectations get to your head as you are forced away from the boy that you love.

Warnings: bad relationship with parents, a little angsty — but I promise a happy ending!

Word Count: 1.5 k

A/N: This one is quite old. It has been edited, but I cannot promise the usual quality.  Enjoy!

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The sky above the castle was gloomy as clouds swept the grounds. The first and second years chatted about, not a care in the world as they prepared to enjoy the puddles outside.  You, however, wished the rainfall would invade the castle, praying it would storm and ruin the letters that rest peacefully in your dorm room.

You frowned from your place at the Slytherin table, where you sat for the first time in months. You could feel the eyes burning holes in your head, but you were quick to ignore them, deciding that the porridge before you needed an extra few stirs.

You couldn't look up from your plate.  Because you knew that if you did, you were bound to break. Fred Weasley always had that effect on you. One look from him and you were putty in his hands. But you couldn't cave and join him at the Gryffindor table today — no matter how badly your heart may have wanted to.

Six months ago, things would have been different. You would have worn your emerald robes with pride, not once paying the fiery redhead an ounce of attention. But in all fairness, six months ago you wouldn't have formed your own opinions — wouldn't have seen a future outside of the one you were promised to. Fred did that to you; he showed you a world where you could dream for yourself, promising to be there every step of the way.

But family arrangements weren't meant to be broken. According to your sacred tradition, pure blood was meant to remain pure. And mixing with blood traitors did not count.

You had sobbed all night long, but by sunrise, it was still crystal clear that there was nothing you could do. They wanted you to marry a wealthy pureblood of their choice, not the goofy ginger you had fallen in love with. But their letters had managed to scare you into submission, just as they had hoped it would.

Fred sat at the opposite end of the hall, attempting to meet your gaze with his. It didn't work, of course, but it sent his mind spiralling with worry. He knew things would never be easy for the two of you. Even though your parents were a pair of wealthy snobs, he could never ask you to abandon them. They were your family, after all. But you felt torn and guilty for dreaming of a life with him — a life where you were happy. And he hated the effect they had on you.

There was nothing he loved more than hearing you talk about your dreams. It brought a smile to his face every time you would sit down and snuggle close, eager to tell him about the plans you had for your life after Hogwarts. He was proud to be the person you opened up to.

But at the end of every one of your daring ideas, he would watch with a frown as reality hit, causing your lovable smile to slip at the realization that none of it was possible for you.

So now, watching from the Gryffindor table as you played with your breakfast, he wondered if your parents had managed to diffuse the spark that he adored so much.

He watched as you abruptly stood from your seat, immediately rushing to follow after you as you trudged through the hall. He ignored the protests of a few disapproving Gryffindors.

It was no secret that many didn't approve of your relationship. It left an ache in his heart every time he thought about it. Because he had once been just like them — had once believed that every Slytherin was just as prissy and privileged as the Malfoys. But when he had found you sobbing in the corridors one fateful day months ago, he had gotten to know you — the real you — and just so happened to fall in love with the girl that he met.