harry potter imagines

fred weasley x reader: family friend

FRED WEASLEY X READER

"no matter how much suffering you went through, you never wanted to let go of those memories." ― haruki murakami

warnings: none

notes: happy exam season! this is my yearly "I would rather do anything but study" fanfic for the occasion. xx, gracie

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Falling in love was an acquaintance, but falling out of love was a friend. You knew it like your favorite knitted cardigan, the smell of the Hogwarts greenhouses, and the freckles that kissed Fred Weasley. You saw it in your mum and dad's relationship, and now, you could see it in your own. It was a broken quill, leaking ebony ink into your life.

You knew falling out of love, but it still unsettled you. It still made your stomach turn at how uniform and scheduled the signs came, how eager it was to hug and greet you. It came disguised as busyness and missed dates but morphed into brushed-away kisses and silence. The silence was the point of no return. The silence was the moment your mum warned you about when you woke up with your father's things cleared from the house. "When you spend the entire day apart but can't think a single word to say- that, my love, is the silence of a dead relationship."

"Oh, I didn't think you'd still be up."

You shifted to look at the silhouette frozen at the end of the boys' banister. You wanted to scream at him; tell him that waiting around for him gave you a heartache so terrible you couldn't lay without choking on sobs. The way he said it as if he hoped you were asleep made you want to wake the entire Gryffindor tower. At the moment, in that anger, you saw your mum.

"Yeah, I didn't think that I would be either," you echoed, the anger replacing sadness. If falling out of love was a friend, it was a family friend.

Fred walked over to the couch, to the fireplace, to you, but he felt further away. "I, um, heard that you got your St. Mungo's internship letter."

"I did." Three weeks ago, to be exact. "I meant to mention it to you, but, well, honestly, you have been avoiding me. Perhaps not consciously, but still."

Fred's hand fidgeted with a string on his sweater— the sweater you got him for his birthday a year ago. The bright colors seemed dulled by the atmosphere. "It's not like I'm looking at the Marauder's Map to actively avoid you! Also, you can't act like this is all on me. You haven't tried to reach out to me at all. You don't even show up to meals anymore."

"Because of the sight of you laughing with Katie, Angelina, and George while we're eroding into nothing tears me apart." Your face was hot, but it was not dry enough to be entirely from the fireplace. "I would rather my stomach twist in hunger than my heart from another person letting me down."

"That's not fair, and you know it!" A classic line.

"It is not true?" The tear and your "nonchalnt facade" were slipping. Honestly, screw being detached. If this relationship was going to burn, then you were at least going to scream in agony. "We're just another partner again, Fred! We're just another couple of teenagers who thought they could beat the odds; instead, they got their asses handed to them."

"Maybe if you were always looking for a flaw, we'd be fine," Fred bit back, his face and eyes red. "I love you. You love being loved. You never truly loved me because you're so paranoid about me breaking your heart. Why did you even get in a relationship if you can't trust anyone?"

"I-I" You were stunned, frozen in the Gryffindor common room. "I don't know."

Bitter were the words that rolled off his tongue and the taste of honesty.

"I did love you, or do? I want to love you because, Merlin, you're you. I-I just don't know. I look in the mirror and see my mum. I see someone is all in their head and is impossible to love." You were shaking and burning up as you took a step back as Fred took a step forward.

"Stop, y/n. I know you inside and out. I know your laugh a mile away and can find your crossed t's in a pile of scrolls. I know that nothing makes you more like your mum than running away from this conversation."

In the light of the fireplace and blurred by your tears, there Fred stood. It was the Fred you loved, the Fred who catiously took your hand and guided you through love. It was the Fred that was unquestionably deserving of a real conversation.

"You're Fred Weasley," You sniffled. "You told me my hair was pretty while we cleaned cauldrons in detention. You told me that flowers couldn't grow around me becuase they'd get too much sun which is the cheesiest thing anyone has ever said. I love you so much, but we need to break up."

"I-"

"No. I-I," you sobbed. "Merlin, this is hard. I-I want you marry you someday, to see your store flourish in Diagon Alley, to see you be a dad. I want you. I want you so much that I want time to process us. I want time to think about what love means to me. What this relationship is. I want you to experience all of life without worrying about me being a flight-risk."

"I want you to — more than anything — walking away from this relationship with hope rather than heartbreak," You continued, wiping your face dry.

"I love you. I would wait years for you if I knew you'd find peace," Fred whispered, his hand reaching out for yours. "I can give you the space without losing you, can't I?"

"No, you can't. I need to figure things out, and you need to live a life with so regrets while I do." You took Fred's hand and squeezed it lightly. "Fred Weasley, you have changed me life. You were the one who taught me what unadultered, honest love was. It's this. It's me letting you go."

You dropped his hand hesitantly. "Right here and right now, I've already started to heal."