FLAMEOUT \\ fred weasley

Chapter Six

By the time Runi came back into the kitchen, Fred had already managed to get a hold on his more inconvenient feelings and remembered to take his evening potions. He was thankful that she hadn't seen him drink it. Fred felt a pang of regret as he realised that she would find out about his injury and nerve damage eventually. It would be impossible to hide, and it wasn't even something he particularly wanted to hide, except that when it was hidden nobody treated him with that unbearable gentle pity he'd come to hate. Once Runi found out, he might lose that easy camaraderie he'd already grown to enjoy.

The thought surprised him. How had it already come to mean so much to him?

When Runi stepped back into the room, Fred was washing the dishes and setting them on the rack to dry. He shook himself out of his sudden moodiness and gave Runi a quick smile.

"This was really nice," he said, tilting his head towards the dishes. "Thanks for dinner - and thanks for letting me stay."

"Oh - anytime," Runi said, shifting uncomfortably, and Fred caught a flash of self-consciousness in her eyes. She was not as good as he was at moving forward like nothing had happened. He pretended not to notice as she struggled to put their strangely charged moment from earlier behind her. She cleared her throat. "The loo is around the corner back by the main room - I hope you don't mind, we'll have to share - and I do have in-unit laundry machines."

Fred blinked. "Laundry machines?"

Runi stared, awkwardness forgotten. "How do you wash your clothes?"

"Cleaning charms," Fred said, "Obviously."

"Oh, you're one of those wizards," Runi said dismissively.

Fred stared at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"You know, the type of wizard who uses magic as a solution to everything," Runi explained. "Do you even know how to use a stove?"

"You don't need one when you can just use a charm to boil water for tea," Fred said defensively, feeling his cheeks begin to warm. Hermione had often bemoaned the Weasleys' collective inability to do things the Muggle way, but he'd always thought it was just Hermione being, well, Hermione.

"It's not about having the tea," Runi explained patiently. "It's about making it. It's soothing."

"Yeah, but I'm lazy."

"Then a laundry machine will suit you perfectly," Runi said dryly. "It'll give you the perfect excuse to waste time for hours."

"But I'm impatient."

Runi rolled her eyes. "Well, it's my flat and my rules. No magic to finish chores."

Fred stared at her in dismay. She sounded humourless and prim, a far cry from the woman he thought he'd been getting to know and like. She seemed to pick up on his mood, because her countenance softened slightly.

"That's not fair," she sighed. "It's our flat now, isn't it?"

"No - no, it's still yours," Fred said politely.

"No, you're right," Runi groaned. "You're an adult, anyway. If you want to use cleaning charms instead of proper soap and water-" she pulled a face, "go right ahead."

Well, when she put it like that, it did sound rather unsanitary. He sighed, resigned to his fate. A laundry machine it is.

"You'll get along great with Hermione," he grumbled, but there wasn't much heat in his words.

"Hermione?" Runi cocked her head to the side.

"Granger," Fred said by way of explanation.

"The name sounds familiar," Runi admitted, "but I'm afraid I don't know much about British Wizarding affairs quite yet."