Love In The Shadows | Fred Weasley x OC

Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Merry Birthday

It was December 24th. The air around Malfoy Manor was cold and still, wrapped in the hush that only snow could bring. But as dawn broke, a quiet thrill hummed through Adhara's chest—today wasn't just Christmas Eve; it was her birthday.

She half-expected the morning to be marked by the usual formalities, perhaps a gift handed over by a house-elf or a stiff, carefully selected piece of jewelry from her parents. But today, there was something else waiting for her. No sooner had she settled herself by the window than an owl swooped into her room, landing with a soft flutter on her nightstand. Her pulse quickened—another letter from Fred Weasley.

She wasn't surprised; Fred had been relentless over the holiday break. But this letter was different. The envelope was thicker, the ink messier than usual, as though he'd been in a rush to get it sent. She opened it, laughing softly as she unfolded the pages to find a picture of Fred holding up a small cupcake with a single candle on top, his freckled face split into a grin as he leaned close to the camera.

"Happy Birthday, Addy," the letter began. "I know you're probably drowning in all those Malfoy-style presents by now, but I thought I'd send a little something from the Burrow. Just imagine this is the most decadent cupcake you've ever had because that's what Mum said it was when she made it this morning. George got caught trying to eat it, and Mum smacked his hand away just for you."

She found herself chuckling, touched by the thoughtfulness of his words. Fred might tease her, might joke around endlessly, but he'd remembered her birthday. He always seemed to notice things others overlooked. She settled back on her bed, reading the letter slowly, as if trying to stretch out every word.

"And before you ask," he wrote, "yes, I absolutely did drag George out of bed at the crack of dawn to take this photo. You can thank me later, though I'm not sure if he'll ever forgive me for waking him up that early."

The image of Fred harassing George for her sake made her laugh, but there was also a quiet warmth in her chest. No one in her own family would ever go to such lengths to make her smile. She tucked the letter with the others, but this one, she handled a little more carefully, a little more thoughtfully.

Just then, she heard a soft knock on her door. Narcissa stepped in, carrying a silver tray with a single present atop it, her mother's expression carefully reserved.

"Happy birthday, Adhara," Narcissa said, her voice cool yet tinged with a softness rarely seen. She handed her daughter the box—a beautiful, intricate piece adorned with the Malfoy crest. Inside, as Adhara expected, lay an elegant pendant, its emerald gemstone catching the morning light.

"Thank you, Mother," Adhara replied politely, fastening the chain around her neck. She knew her parents loved her in their own way, but this felt like another reminder of the world they'd created for her—the world she was meant to fit into. Even though it was Christmas, Lucious had went to the ministry for business, not even greeting her daughter a happy birthday.

After Narcissa left, Adhara found herself drawn back to Fred's letter, rereading the playful lines, the wink in his words. He was worlds away from the life she was living, but somehow, he managed to bring a little of that world into her own.

Before she could dwell too much, another knock sounded at her door. She looked up, surprised, as Draco walked in, his face softened with an unusually earnest expression.

"Happy birthday," he said, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small, gift-wrapped box. She smiled, pleasantly surprised—Draco rarely did anything sentimental. She unwrapped it to find a beautiful quill set, engraved with her initials.

"Thank you, Draco," she murmured, touched by the gesture. He shrugged nonchalantly but lingered, glancing at the letters stacked beside her.

"So," he said, raising an eyebrow, "the Weasley's sending you fan mail now?"

She rolled her eyes, but there was no irritation. "He's just... persistent."

Draco smirked, his tone light. "Persistent, huh? Must be some fan."

She only smiled, not offering him any more details. But as soon as he left, she couldn't resist the pull of her desk, pulling out parchment and quill as she began to write.

"Dear Weasley," she started, a smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks for the cupcake. The Burrow must be full of early morning chaos now that you're back, which I suppose is your natural habitat."

She continued, telling him about the quiet, heavily polished world of Malfoy Manor and the brief, stiff birthday greeting her parents had offered. But as she wrote, the walls seemed to close in a little less, and the coldness of the manor seemed to fade. She poured her thoughts onto the page—sharing little bits of her day, her thoughts on the holidays, and things she'd never dare to voice aloud. And though she knew she'd never send the letter, it felt freeing just to write it, as if she were speaking directly to him.

By the time she finished, the sun was starting to sink lower on the horizon, casting a golden light across her room. She folded the letter carefully, sliding it into the bottom drawer of her desk with the others she'd written but never sent.

Dinner that evening was a formal affair, her family dressed in their finest, the table set with their most elegant silverware. The conversation was polite, distant, as it always was, her parents discussing alliances and social ties. But Adhara's mind drifted, her thoughts back on the warmth and laughter of Fred's world.

That night, as she lay in bed, she pulled out Fred's birthday letter one more time, reading through it with a small smile. The photo he'd included—a simple, carefree shot of him grinning widely—was a perfect contrast to the world around her. She could almost hear his laugh, imagine the way he'd tease her if he knew how much she treasured his letters.

It was a strange, vulnerable feeling, knowing someone saw past the guarded walls she kept around herself. But in those letters, in those fleeting moments, she felt understood.