DOROTHEA {fred weasley}

sixty three

Dorothea left the group when truths turned into dares, feeling considerably more sober than everyone else seemed, and also finally not being able to ignore the overwhelming feeling of sadness she had. She lay awake, listening to the group's laughter going on until four in the morning, finally allowing herself to head downstairs for water once she heard each bedroom door shut. Fred Weasley lay on the sofa, seemingly asleep, and Dorothea smiled slightly. She filled a cup and stood over him innocently, tipping the cup slightly to it trickled onto his face.

Fred shot up and caught her wrist in his hand, "knew you were coming down really, Rosier."

"Course you did."

"I was pretending to be asleep to avoid conversation with you," he said sweetly, a smile on his face as his fingers stayed wrapped around her.

"You're full of compliments tonight, Fred," she said quietly, moving willingly when he pulled her to be pressed against the back of the sofa, leaning down as he leant up to her, pressing his lips to hers, holding himself up on the back of the sofa. She opened her mouth and felt him sigh into her, Dorothea tried to urge herself to push him away. 

It would be the right thing to do, and she knew that, but she couldn't.

Fred stood up, pushing himself over the back of the sofa, not letting go of Dorothea as he did so, eventually standing in front of her with one hand in her hair and one sliding up her back under her vest. He pulled her in the direction of the stairs, not saying a word to her, and she followed, being careful to not creak the stairs as they headed to his room. 

"Come in?" He asked, sounding a little like he was pleading.

Dorothea didn't say anything, but went on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his, her hands around his neck and in his hair. She pushed him onto the bed and sat on his lap, pulling him up with her, pulling his top off and letting him push her vest aside. They didn't speak at all, but Dorothea pushed herself into him hungrily, trying to forget that in three weeks time, Ezra would be the only man she kissed. 

She pushed Fred away before anything else happened, and he leant his forehead against hers, breathing heavily into her parted lips.

"You and I doesn't make sense," she whispered to him. "It's not right."

"Let me be wrong then," he mumbled, sounding tired, pressing his mouth against her neck. 

Dorothea climbed off his lap gently and he lay down with his eyes closed. She stay sat up and moved a little. His hand caught her arm and he opened one eye.

"Stay," he said softly.

Dorothea's heart hurt a little at that and she let herself lie down next to him, not touching other than where his hand still held her arm. 

She thought she could grow to quite like Fred Weasley, if she had time, that is.

She slipped out of his room as soon as he was asleep, pushing the door open to her own room, wrapping herself tightly in the sheets on her bed, and letting herself sob silently. She considered going back to him, for comfort, but couldn't. He wouldn't know why she was crying and she couldn't tell him. This summer was so full of hope for him, he was optimistic about the future. 

Life couldn't be more different for her.

Fred wasn't surprised that she had left when the sun woke him up in the morning, her room was only across the hall, after all. He didn't let himself feel disappointed, though, and was more relieved that she'd let him kiss her again after his brash actions after the prank.  He was glad she'd gone with him. There was something wrong with her, he could tell that. She looked stressed, and that was understandable. To leave her family, her world, to agree to meet with an auror. He knew what a huge sacrifice she was making. Her name, her wealth, her power.