In Every Moment | fred weasley x reader

Stressful Studies and a Serious Lack of Sleep

Your third year at Hogwarts was...interesting. That was the year that Harry Potter started school, so, naturally, everyone became focused on this tiny, scared little boy with the strange scar on his forehead. The sorting ceremony, at first, was not very appealing to you, so you'd spend the majority of it pulling faces at Fred and George, who'd sat "next to you" on their Gryffindor table like always.

You were chatting with Selene about her summer and the electives she'd chosen- much like you and the rest of Ravenclaw, she'd opted for more than the two minimum- when Harry Potter was called up.  A hush fell on the Great Hall, with every pair of eyes trained on the frightened boy. You noted Snape's curious expression, as though he looked almost pained, or perhaps he was constipated. In the silence that followed as Harry stepped up to the stall, Fred caught your eye and mimicked Snape's odd face, causing you to laugh very, very loudly. Your entire table looked at you while Fred and George wheezed silently, stifling their laughs as you turned a nice shade of pomegranate red. Even Dumbledore turned to look at you, although he appeared rather amused.

You made a mental note to beat the twins with a book as you buried your face in your hands. Thankfully, after what felt like hours, the Sorting Hat made its decision, and the attention returned to Harry as the wrinkled thing shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers, Fred and George among the loudest. You could see them clapping wildly, Fred throwing a wink in your direction as if to say See? Even Potter knows where the fun is. You rolled your eyes and chuckled softly, turning back to Selene, who was shaking her head at the chaos of it all. Eventually, Ron Weasley was called, and the hat had barely touched his flaming red hair when it yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Without thinking, you jumped up and cheered, your Ravenclaw friends throwing you puzzled looks. You tried to cover it up with a casual shrug, though your heart swelled with pride for the youngest Weasley boy. He looked overjoyed as he made his way to his brothers, who had already started teasing him with exaggerated pats on the back.

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The Quidditch try outs took place in the second week of September and you kept your promise to Fred. The try outs occurred during the late afternoon, just as the sky was beginning to darken. You'd worn a pair of simple black leggings with a warm, sporty top and a Ravenclaw hoodie thrown over. You'd originally wanted to wear your Ravenclaw scarf to show your solidarity to your house, but for some reason, you couldn't find it anywhere.

As you stood there, broom in hand, a knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach. The pitch was full of eager students from all houses, some chatting excitedly, others silently stretching and preparing. You weren't sure what you were more worried about—falling off your broom in front of a crowd or being so bad that you'd be laughed off the field. After all, the only real experience you had was playing Quidditch with the Weasleys over the summer holidays. But a promise was a promise, and you weren't about to let Fred or Ginny down.

Just as you were thinking about how you'd break the news of your failure to your friends, you spotted two familiar red heads in the Quidditch stands- sharing a Ravenclaw scarf and waving neon banners with your name written across it. It looked like they had charmed the banners, with your name twinkling brightly as if lit up by tiny fireworks. Fred and George beamed down at you and waved eagerly, their bright smiles instantly soothing the knot in your stomach. You giggled to yourself and put a hand to your head- if this is what the boys did for try outs, you dreaded the thought of what they'd do during an actual match.

Despite the overwhelming nerves, you somehow managed to hit every single Bludger with perfect precision. As the tryouts progressed and your confidence soared, you even pulled off a few daring tricks and flips, throwing in a couple of playful kisses toward Fred and George, who dramatically pretended to faint in response. After a few games were played, the supporters were all asked to head back to the school while the decisions were made. Rain began to drizzle from the grey clouds and your heart thundered in your chest as you watching the existing team huddle and whisper quietly, catching a few glances that were thrown the way of the try-out group. You fidgeted with the plait in your hair, squeezing out the water in it. Bile rose in your throat. Why were they taking so long?