𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 | f. w

8

The days in Grimmauld Place began to blur, marked not only by the dull ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway but by the subtle shifts in Mattie's own world. Fred Weasley had taken root in her mind, and there was no denying it now. Every glance, every shared moment of teasing, carried a weight that made her stomach flutter. And though Quinn never let her forget the way she flushed when Fred was near, Mattie found herself smiling at the thought of him even when he wasn't looking.

Late afternoons in Grimmauld Place had become her favorite time of day, the golden light filtering through the grimy windows casting a soft glow on the dark wood floors, giving the house an illusion of warmth that it otherwise lacked. The place was heavy with secrets, with the burden of war outside its walls, but in these quiet moments, it felt like a reprieve from the storm brewing beyond.

Today, like most days recently, Mattie found herself gravitating toward the drawing room, where laughter always seemed to be echoing, carrying with it the comforting sense of belonging she had started to crave. The room itself was still the same as it had always been—aged, darkened by years of neglect, with ancient portraits of stern witches and wizards hanging on the walls, their eyes forever judging—but the people inside it, Fred especially, had made it feel more like home than anywhere she'd known in a long time.

As she entered the room, her eyes automatically found him, just like they always did now. Fred was sprawled on the long, worn-out sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his arms crossed behind his head as he laughed at something George was saying. The firelight flickered across his face, catching in his eyes and making them sparkle with mischief, the same glint that had drawn her in from the start. He was at ease here, in this chaotic sanctuary, and Mattie couldn't help but be drawn to that comfort, to the way he seemed to make everything feel lighter.

She tried to shake herself out of it, turning her attention to Quinn, who was seated beside her in their usual corner of the room, pretending to read but very clearly watching the Weasleys with barely concealed amusement.

"I swear, they never stop," Quinn muttered with a smirk, glancing sideways at Mattie. "It's like they're constantly on. Always trying to outdo each other."

Mattie chuckled softly, her eyes flitting back to Fred. "I don't think they know how to turn it off."

Quinn shot her a knowing look, the kind that made Mattie's cheeks heat up even before her friend opened her mouth. "Or maybe it's just that Fred is trying to get your attention."

Mattie groaned, burying her face in her hands as Quinn's words hit their mark. "Quinn, stop. You're imagining things."

Quinn leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smug grin. "Am I? Because I've seen the way he looks at you, Mattie. It's not just me making this up. Trust me."

Mattie didn't trust herself to look at Fred again, but the butterflies in her stomach gave her away. She had felt it too—the way Fred's eyes lingered on her, the way his teasing had become softer, more personal in recent days. But it still felt impossible. Fred Weasley, with his endless charm and confidence, couldn't possibly be interested in her.

"Maybe he's just friendly," Mattie mumbled, her voice muffled by her hands. "You know, he's like that with everyone."

"Uh-huh," Quinn said, clearly unconvinced. "He hasn't winked at me once. And, in case you haven't noticed, he always makes sure to sit next to you whenever we're all in the same room. Or find an excuse to talk to you. Or, you know, send you those ridiculous winks that make you go all red."

Mattie lifted her head, glaring half-heartedly at Quinn, though the warmth spreading across her cheeks was undeniable. "I do not go all red."

Quinn snickered. "Oh, you do. It's adorable, honestly."