Towers - Fred Weasley

26

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EBONY HAD NO IDEA HOW BUT FRED MANAGED TO CONVINCE PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL TO LET HER SIT WITH HIM AT THE GRYFFINDOR TABLE. She decided not to question it. The Beauxbaton students are sitting with the Ravenclaws meanwhile Durmstrang sits with Slytherin.

"Fred?" Ebony asks softly to the boy who sits next to her. "Fred, you haven't said a word to me since we entered, are you okay?" He turns to face her.

"I'm just trying to think of a way to stop that rat from hurting you again."

"That is not your problem but mine." Before he can protest, Dumbledore speaks up.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and – most particularly – guests, I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gives what is unmistakeably a derisive laugh.

"The Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," says Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

He sits down. The dishes in front of them fill with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seem to have pulled out all the stops; there is a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Ebony had ever seen, including several that are definitely foreign.

"This is absolutely amazing." Ebony hears George say.

The Great Hall seems somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there are barely twenty additional students there; perhaps it is because their differently coloured uniforms stand out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts robes. Now that they have removed their furs, the Durmstrang students are revealed to be wearing robes of a deep, blood red.

Hagrid sidles into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slides into his seat at the end and begins eating too. 

"Fred, I swear to Merlin, just stop thinking about it. This is not your mess."

"It is, it is my mess."

"No, it's not."

"Ebs, you're my best friend." Fred says. "Your bullshit is my bullshit and my bullshit is your bullshit." She laughs at his stupid answer. 

"You are ridiculous. Besides, there is no way I get Derrick to stop being a creep. I guess I will just drop out of Ancient Runes and hope for the best--"

"Date me." Ebony almost chokes on her bouillabaisse. She coughs and turns to face her friend.

"WHAT?!" She asks, her eyes wide in surprise. "Are you nuts?"

"No -- yes -- but that's not the point." Fred replies. "He said he'd claim you, well. . . what if you've already been claimed?"

"I'm not an object, Fred."

"I'm very aware." The ginger boy replies. "Think about it, he won't be able to make a move if we're constantly together. He wouldn't even dare cross the line because I already showed him not to mess with me. It's perfect." Ebony stares at Fred for a moment.

"Let me get this straight. You are perfectly fine with giving up your playboy-reputation to keep a creep away from me?"

"Yes, ma'am." Fred replies, proudly.

"Have you hit your head?"

"Think about it, Ebony. Fake-dating me has its perks."

"What's in it for you?"