𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

made for lovin' you (f.w)

Fred Weasley is never late to band practice. That is, until today.

Warnings: BAND!AU, MUGGLE!AU, tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 675

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George snickered, twirling his drumsticks between his fingers as his bandmates continued to bicker.  Fred Weasley was late, and rehearsal couldn't exactly begin without their lead guitarist.

Despite popular belief, Fred had never been one to miss rehearsal.  Even when surrounded by chicks — as Lee liked to put it — Fred would return to his beat-down garage with a new tune to play.  The band often poked fun at him for being such a loner, happy to live with nothing but him and his music for the rest of his days.  Now, however — as he was no where to be found — they seemed to wish for the same old Freddie back.

"What the hell is so funny?" Angelina threw her arms up in the air, missing Lee's face by an inch as he lunged out of the way.  She caught George's smirk and wasn't liking it one bit.

George shrugged, sending his girlfriend a wink when she pursed her lips.

Fred suddenly burst through the door, spitting out a string of apologies as he maneuvered past the angry hand gestures of Lee Jordan.

Angelina watched as Fred dismantled his guitar, attempting to fix his shaggy hair in the shiny surface of his instrument.  Fred wiped at the sweat lining his forehead, tugging off his leather jacket when the heat rising to his cheeks became too much.

"Will y/n be joining us today?" George mused, crossing his arms over his chest.

Angelina's eyes blew wide.

"That's why you're late?" Angelina laughed, "You've ditched us for a good snog?"

"Never thought I'd live to see the day," Lee smiled.

Fred scoffed, shrugging Lee's arm off his shoulder.

"There was no snogging," Fred groaned, "I was only giving her lessons."

Fred was lying straight through his teeth and George could tell.

"Lessons?" Angelina sniggered, "Her lessons are more important than our rehearsal?"

Fred's head fell, the heat crawling up his neck.

A knock at the door caught everyone's attention, pulling all eyes away from Fred.

Fred's eyes blew wide when George smirked, practically sprinting towards the door before he could reach it.  Unfortunately, Fred was too late.

"Why hello, there," George smiled, bowing as he opened the door.  "How may I help you?"

You smiled awkwardly, recognizing the infamous twin brother Fred had told you about.  Fred stood by his side, a hidden smile tugging at his lips.

"Hi," you waved at Fred, feeling your cheeks go warm when he winked at you.  "You forgot this."

In your hand lay a beaded necklace, a guitar pick dangling across its middle.  Fred was known for it, being something he wore for good luck at every gig.  He had asked you to try it on before leaving in a such rush.

Angelina shoved between the two boys, taking your hand into hers.

"Angelina Johnson, at your service," she smiled, taking you under her arm as she guided you through the garage.

"Now tell me, what exactly has Fred taught you over the past hour?"

"Blink twice if he's holding you hostage," Lee whispered.

You only giggled, finding Fred's sheepish grin across the room.

"She is perfectly capable of leaving if she must," Fred quipped, rolling his eyes as he made his way beside you. A sweet smile graced his lips the moment his eyes landed on you.

"Thanks, baby," he whispered, his fingers brushing against yours as he retrieved the necklace.

"Say, maybe your new student would like to see us in action?" George smirked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

You glanced at Fred, noticing the cheeky smirk he wore as he raised his eyebrows at you.

"Alright," you grinned, eyeing Fred as you found a seat in the corner of their makeshift studio. "Let's see what you've got."

Fred all but snorted, reaching for his guitar as he threw the strap over his neck to rest on his shoulder.  Turning to you, he placed the beaded necklace back around your neck, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as George formed a beat with his drums.

"You might just need more lessons after this, love."