Love In The Shadows | Fred Weasley x OC

Chapter 101

Chapter 101: A Love Unchained

The fire had burned low, its embers casting flickering shadows across the walls. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, but inside, within the walls Fred had ordered to be built for them, the world had stilled.

Adhara lay curled against Fred, her head resting over his heart, listening to its steady rhythm. She had spent years convincing herself that this was impossible—that loving him, choosing him, would only lead to heartbreak. And yet, here they were. Together.

No more running.

Fred's fingers traced lazy circles along her back, his touch featherlight, as if he was still afraid she might slip away. But she wouldn't. Not anymore.

She lifted her head, her gaze finding his in the dim light.

Fred was watching her, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were soft—full of something deep, something unshakable.

"What is it?" she whispered.

He exhaled a quiet laugh. "Just memorizing this moment."

Adhara felt something tighten in her chest.

"We have forever," she murmured.

Fred smiled, but there was something in his eyes—something real. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek.

"I don't want to waste another second," he admitted, voice low.

Neither did she.

Adhara leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that started soft, hesitant, but quickly deepened.

Fred responded instantly, his arms tightening around her, pulling her flush against him. His hands slid over her back, warm and steady, and she shivered at the sensation.

It was slow. Reverent.

It was love.

Fred's lips trailed along her jaw, down the column of her throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her skin. Adhara inhaled sharply, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

Fred rolled them gently, settling over her, his weight grounding her, anchoring her in the moment. His hands mapped her body with a tenderness that made her chest ache, as if he was memorizing every inch of her.

She touched him just as slowly, her fingertips tracing the planes of his shoulders, the steady beat of his pulse beneath her lips.

And when they finally came together, it was with a kind of unspoken promise—one that neither of them needed to say aloud.

This time, there were no more walls between them.

The fire had died down to embers, the warmth of the blankets tangled around them.

Adhara lay against Fred's chest, their fingers intertwined, her breathing slow and steady.

Fred pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Are you warm enough?" he murmured.

She smiled sleepily. "You're warm."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. "That's because you're wrapped around me like a vine."

Adhara lifted her head, propping herself up on her elbow. "Are you complaining?"

Fred grinned, brushing his knuckles along her cheek. "Not even a little bit."

Silence stretched between them, but it was a comfortable one. The world outside felt distant, like an echo of a life she had left behind.

Then, softly, she whispered, "Tell me a story."

Fred blinked, caught off guard. "A story?"

She nodded, her fingers tracing patterns along his collarbone. "Something happy."

Fred thought for a moment, then smirked. "Once upon a time, there was a devilishly handsome Weasley who fell in love with a brilliant, impossibly stubborn Malfoy."

Adhara laughed, rolling her eyes. "Go on."

"She was supposed to marry a stuffy French wizard with a title too long to remember," Fred continued, "but the devilishly handsome Weasley wasn't about to let that happen. So, he crashed the wedding, swept her off her feet, and they ran away to a house that he had built just for her."

Adhara smiled. "Sounds like a good story."

"It's my favorite," Fred murmured, brushing a kiss against her temple.

She closed her eyes, breathing him in, letting the steady beat of his heart lull her into peace.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. It was enough just to be here, to exist in this space they had claimed for themselves.

Then Adhara let out a breath, shifting slightly to look at him. "What now?"

Fred raised an eyebrow. "You tell me. You're the one who ran from your own wedding."

She scoffed, nudging him playfully. "You were the one who ran with me."

His expression softened. "And I'd do it again. A thousand times."

Adhara felt something deep in her chest tighten. She had spent so long believing that love like this—messy, imperfect, but real—wasn't meant for her. That she had to fit into a mold, follow the life set out for her, and sacrifice what she wanted for the sake of duty.

But Fred had shattered all of that.

She reached up, cupping his face in her hands. "Then let's make a life, Fred," she whispered. "Here. Just us."

Fred inhaled sharply, searching her gaze. "You mean it?"

"I do." The words felt right, more than they ever had before.

Fred let out a slow breath, then smiled. "You keep saying things like that, and I'll start thinking I actually married you tonight."

She laughed, her thumb brushing over his cheek. "Maybe someday."

Fred's grin softened. "Someday."

And as he pulled her into another kiss, Adhara knew that for the first time in her life, someday didn't feel so far away.