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°~ 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ~°
"Merlin's beard, Fred, don't do that!' I hissed, clutching at my chest in exaggerated exasperation. "I almost sent a Silencio your way!"
He raised his eyebrows, brushing some soot off his sleeve. "Aw, come on. A bit of heart-racing excitement is good for the soul! You'd thank me someday. Maybe now Too but easy on that spell"
I sank into one of the overstuffed armchairs by the fire, running a tired hand through my hair. The room was quiet except for the faint crackle of embers and the occasional snores from the portraits along the walls. Fred flopped unceremoniously into the chair beside me, Ginny's puffskein Arnold , bouncing slightly on his head as if protesting.
"Alright, spill. Why do you look like you've just outrun a Hungarian Horntail?" he asked, resting his chin on his hand and giving me a quizzical look.
I groaned loudly, tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling . I hopelessly put a head on Fred shoulder .
"Rough night?" he asked, glancing down at me from behind the chair .
"Did Angelina tell you?"
"She did, because I was searching for you all day,"
"I'm sorry,"
"Least you're okay, mate. But drinks with Draco and the rest? Really?"
"It wasn't my idea!" I said defensively, pulling her head from his shoulder. But Fred wasn't having it. He gently pushed her head back down, resting it once more against him.
"It's fine. I understand. Angelina also explained why you were dragged into this, but you don't seem like you had fun," he said softly, his fingers idly brushing my hair back from her face.
"I did-at first,"
"Yeah?" He took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, absently stroking her palm as if it were the most precious thing to him.
His touch sent a jolt through her, a reminder of the earlier part of the night when Draco's fingers had brushed against hers. A wave of unease washed over her, and without thinking, I pulled my hand away from Fred's grasp. The sudden movement surprised him; his expression shifted to one of confusion, and I instantly felt guilty.
"Sorry," I said quickly, placing a hand on his arm for peace .
"Y/N, you're triggered by something you're not talking about,"
"I'm not triggered... okay?"
"Is it who I think it is? Did he do something?" Fred's voice was low, but the urgency was clear, and I glanced around nervously, hoping I hadn't disturbed the portraits nearby.
