Untouchable: a Fred Weasley fanfiction

November 17th

"This is just brilliant, Joey," Milo says, thumbing through the pages of the book I annotated for him: The Bourne Identity.

"Yeah, and I can't believe you managed to do two of these," Frankie adds, flipping through his own. Silence of the Lambs.

We're sitting on the carpet in front of Mum and I's Christmas tree, Auntie and Mum smiling as they sip their teas from the loveseat. It's almost like we're kids again. We kind of always have been.

"Those aren't even the only two I did, actually," I point out, "I did Fred's favorite, too, but I haven't given it to him ye-"

I cut myself off, looking at my mother. She's paused sipping at her tea- she now lowers the mug. Milo and Frankie are grinning at me, books lowered as well.

"Who's Fred?" Mum asks.

"A friend," I say, looking away.

I shoot my cousins a look, but the grins remain.

A few minutes later, Auntie is still with Milo and Frankie by the tree while Mum is washing out the tea mugs in the sink. I head over to give her mine as well.

"Hey," I say, "is, uh- is Remus coming again today, at all...?"

She glances at me. "No, not today. He- didn't want to intrude. He thought joining in on our Christmas this quickly might overwhelm you."

"Oh." I set my mug down. "Okay."

She keeps her eye on me but continues washing the mugs. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," I shrug, turning. "I just- I was curious."

I can feel her watching me when I move back toward the living room, and I feel like she's smiling.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Wow. I am very excited. Ew. This is so gross- I'm almost cringing at myself. But I am very, very excited.

I shouldn't be this excited to leave home after the break- but as I'm walking on the platform amidst the crowd of bustling kids parting from their parents and hauling their trunks through the passerby, I'm straining against a huge smile.

"And you're sure you have everything?" Mum is asking from behind me yet again. "Books? Clothes? My love and affection?"

"Yes, Mum, I have everything," I sigh. "Stop worrying."

"That's not possible."

We come to a stop a few paces away from the train door. I keep my eyes scanning over the crowd, looking for that familiar, tall redhead, probably already cracking jokes with his friends again, or lazily running a hand through his hair like he always does.

Fuck, the smile is coming again.

"Okay," Mum says, holding my shoulders, "as per usual, I am going to miss you loads. And will you please find some time to write me? I know you're incredibly popular-"

"Nope."

"And you have lots of ragers to get to-"

"Don't call them that."

"Not to mention your four boy toys and three girlfriends-"

"Accurate."

"But send one out in an evening, or something," she says. She then leans forward and pecks my forehead with a kiss before adding, "I love you, and I... I really appreciate all of your understanding this break, Jo. Really. I don't deserve you as a daughter sometimes."