Love In The Shadows | Fred Weasley x OC

Chapter 78

Chapter 78: Out Of The Bag

The bell above the door stilled, its soft jingle now a fading echo in the silence. Fred remained at the table, frozen, his fingers gripping the edge as if he could steady his mind with the same force he was using to stay in place. His eyes were fixed on the door through which Adhara had just fled, her exit sharp and final. 

Everything felt wrong. 

He had gotten the answer to the question that had haunted him for three years, but the relief he had expected was nowhere to be found. The truth was in front of him now—Adhara had left because of her father's threats, to protect him from the danger Lucius Malfoy would have inflicted on him and his family. He had spent so long wondering why she had disappeared, why she had left without a word, without a trace, and now he finally knew. But the knowledge felt like a weight rather than a relief. 

And what made it worse was that it didn't feel fair. 

Fred ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. He had been left in the dark for so long, left to carry the burden of her absence on his own. He had waited, desperately hoping for an explanation that never came. He had tortured himself with questions, blaming himself, wondering what he had done wrong. And now that he knew the truth, all he felt was an overwhelming sense of unfairness. 

"I had to know," Fred muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. He had been searching for answers for so long. Was that so wrong? Why did it feel like everyone was angry with him? He had needed the truth, needed to understand why Adhara had left without a word. But instead of understanding, all he felt was guilt, and worse, a sense of betrayal. 

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating. Vera and George had exchanged tense glances after Adhara's abrupt departure. Fred had seen it, and it made no sense to him. Why were they looking at him like that?

But deep down, Fred knew it wasn't just the truth that had been at stake—it was the way he had gone about getting it. The Veritaserum. He had used it. He hadn't trusted her enough to give him the truth when she was ready. He had forced her. And that was the part that gnawed at him, even as the rest of him felt the injustice of the situation. 

"Fred," Vera's voice cut through the silence again, and Fred lifted his gaze to meet hers. She was standing across from him, her arms crossed, her face unreadable. But he saw the disappointment in her eyes, and it stung. 

"What were you thinking?" she asked softly, her voice still gentle but holding an edge. 

Fred blinked at her. He didn't know how to respond. What was he thinking? He had done it because he needed to know. He had been living with the uncertainty of it for too long, and now that he finally had an answer, it felt like no one understood. 

"I just wanted to know why," he said, his voice tight. "Is that so wrong? I've spent three years wondering why she left me without a proper explanation. Just a bloody letter." His voice cracked with the weight of the years he had spent torturing himself. "And now I find out it was all because of her bloody father—because he threatened me. And she thought I was better off not knowing?" 

Vera exhaled sharply, clearly frustrated. "It's not about that, Fred. You didn't give her the chance to decide when or how to tell you. You took away her agency, her choice." 

Fred felt his temper flare, and for a moment, he didn't know how to hold it in. "She left me, Vera! Left me! You think I just waited around, assuming everything was fine? She didn't think about me for one bloody second when she walked out that door, did she?" 

Vera flinched, her lips tightening. "That's not fair, Fred," she said softly. "You don't know that. She was trying to protect you, in the only way she knew how." 

Fred shook his head, his anger building. "She didn't give me a chance to protect myself! She didn't give me the chance to do anything but sit around and wonder why—why I wasn't good enough. Why she didn't care enough to tell me. Why I was just left behind." His voice broke, the frustration in his chest bubbling over. "I didn't deserve that. I didn't deserve to be left in the dark." 

George, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. "Fred, you've got to stop looking at it like you were the only one hurting. Adhara's been living with that for three years too, you know. You've got to think about how she felt." 

Fred's eyes snapped to George, the unfairness of it all spreading through his veins. "I'm not the one who left, George. I'm not the one who ran away without a word." 

Vera stepped forward, her tone firm but more understanding than before. "But you can't take away her right to tell you in her own way. To choose her own timing. She didn't leave because she didn't care about you, Fred. She did it because she loved you enough to protect you, even if it meant sacrificing herself. You don't get to decide when she tells you the truth." 

Fred clenched his fists, feeling the injustice of it all. He had been left to suffer for so long, and now that he finally had a piece of the puzzle, the answers weren't enough. The truth didn't fix everything. It just made it worse. 

"And now look where we are," he muttered bitterly, his gaze falling to the table. "I find out everything I've been wondering, and it's still not enough. She's gone, and she's never coming back. And I'm the bad guy for wanting the truth." 

There was silence again, heavy and suffocating. Fred could feel the weight of it pressing down on him, but he didn't know what else to say. It was like everything he had wanted, everything he had been fighting for, had backfired. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. 

"You should've waited," Vera said quietly, almost as though she was trying to comfort him. 

Fred shook his head, the unfairness of it all crashing in on him. "I waited long enough."