Just Friends

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You rushed back to the castle with hot tears in your eyes, determined to let no one see you cry over something so stupid. You stormed through the doors of the wide entry way, intent on heading to one of the secret passageways you'd found on the marauders map, so you could sob undisturbed.

As you rounded the corner that would lead you to the west tower, the tears spilled and you let out a small, hurt cry. Your pace quickened, feeling your brows furrow uncontrollably with pain, until you were running with blurry vision, your cold hands quickly wiping away the drops that fell. Just as your heart began to split into tiny little fragments, you reached the hidden brick in the stone wall next to Dumbledore's phoenix door and threw your fist against what you knew to be the trigger to open the secret walkway. Except it didn't budge. You tried again, harder this time.

"Come on!" You whined, sobs filling your voice. You hit the brick over and over again, oblivious to the pain it inflicted on your open palm, because all you wanted, more than anything, was to let your heart break in peace. But nothing happened, and, defeated, you leaned your head against the wall, unable to stop the soft cries that escaped your lips. Weak with the cold, you pressed your back against the wall and slowly slid down, until you were on the floor, with your head resting in your hands. You felt pathetic and ridiculous for crying over something so...simple. It wasn't a shock to you that Fred didn't see you as anything more than a friend. And you realised what a dangerous thing hope was. Because although you'd convinced yourself that it wasn't important, there had always been the small, unnoticeable linger of hope in the back of your mind and in the depths of your heart- the hope that perhaps, it could have been something important.

With most of the students either at Hogsmeade or studying in the library, you were left undisturbed, with the only sound being your pained cries filling the air. That was, until, you heard a voice appear next to you.

"Miss L/N?" The voice spoke quietly, and your head instantly snapped up, wiping away the tears with your coat sleeve.

"Professor McGonagall," you said in surprise, quickly shuffling to stand up. You met the professor's eyes, expecting them to be stern like usual, but instead, they were soft and sad.

"Are you alright, dear?" She asked very quietly, her voice soothing. You nodded unconvincingly. She sighed lightly and pursed her lips, shaking her head gently. She then extended a hand to you, "come with me."

She led you through the halls quickly, her hand warm against your own, until you reached her office. She gently opened the door for you, gesturing to a plush, cushioned chair that sat opposite her large oak desk, so different to the hard wooden one that you'd perched in at the start of the year. You smiled briefly and nodded, thankful for something comfortable to sit on. You unbuttoned your coat as you curled up, with her fireplace crackling quietly away, the room was warm and just what you needed. McGonagall closed the door, swiftly sat down in her purple chair and pulled out a still-hot teapot and two delicate china mugs, placing them carefully on the desk. She filled both mugs with the hot, steaming tea, stirring gently and for a few moments, the only sound in the room was the quiet clinking of the spoon. Once finished, she slid one mug over to the side closest to you, took a sip of her own, and then looked at your sopping face.

"Tell me everything," she said. And you did. As you told her everything, from the first ever day at the Burrow to what you'd seen just a few hours ago, you realised, with crushing despair, just how much you longed to have a mother.

Professor McGonogall sat with you for hours, until your conversation returned to your studies and to your father and to the Christmas break. You talked to her until the winter sky grew dark outside her window, the sun setting softly behind the thick grey clouds. You spoke with her until Dumbledore knocked on her office door, informing you both that it was time for tea. To your surprise, he looked utterly unbothered to see you there- in fact, he looked as though he expected you to be there. Dumbledore was a rather strange man, you thought to yourself, after wiping your face with a damp tissue that he'd summoned out of thin air.

In Every Moment | fred weasley x readerWhere stories live. Discover now