MATILDA - fred weasley

Chapter 37

Matilda traced her finger along the sharp line of Fred's jaw, his own hand lightly grazing the curve of her hip. She pressed her lips to his with a fervour that sent heat surging through her veins, her fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer.

"Careful, love," Fred murmured against her mouth, a teasing edge in his voice, "someone might think you have a thing for me."

Matilda rolled her eyes, leaning her head back against the door as Fred's lips trailed from her jaw down to her neck, pausing at the scars etched into her chest.

She glanced at the clock, noting with relief that they still had time before anyone returned home. She couldn't quite recall how Fred had ended up here, but his arrival had been marked by the same quiet intensity that always surrounded him, his lips finding hers the moment he stepped inside.

She hadn't resisted his bold approach, instead dragging him to her room and closing the door behind them, only to find herself pressed against it, her body flush against his. Despite the urgency in his touch, Matilda felt an unexpected sense of safety, a stark contrast to the fear that had lingered from thedamp boathouse.

Her grip on his shoulders tightened, her fingers digging into the muscle that anchored her to the moment. When his fingers found the hem of her shirt, she nodded, lifting her arms to let him pull it over her head. She did the same for him, her hands quickly returning to the warmth of his skin, tracing the defined lines of his chest.

Fred's eyes darkened as they took her in—the lace of her bra, the waistband of her matching underwear peeking above her pants. There was a hunger in his gaze she hadn't seen before, an intensity that made her breath catch. A smile tugged at her lips as she let her fingers trace the ridges of his abs.

"My, my, Frederick," she teased, her voice low as she pressed her mouth to his chest, right over his heart, "you've been keeping busy."

Fred's response was a low growl, his voice rough with desire. "What did I say I'd do if you called me that again?"

Matilda met his gaze, her hands toying with the waistband of his pants. "I can't seem to recall. Perhaps you should remind me."

With a primal sound, Fred lifted her and tossed her onto the bed, her laughter mingling with the rustling of the sheets as he followed, his hands immediately finding her waist to pull her against him.

"Yes," she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as she melted into the sensation. "Please."

When her eyes snapped open, the morning light was soft behind the curtains, casting a muted glow over the empty space beside her. Matilda's heart pounded in her chest, her skin damp and clammy as she sat up, trying to shake off the remnants of her dream. It was the third time this week, waking up with the ghost of Fred's touch still lingering on her skin, the echo of his voice still resonating in her ears.

"Get a grip," she muttered to herself, pushing the thoughts away as she slid out of bed. The cold floorboards sent a shiver up her spine, grounding her in reality as she forced herself to focus on anything but the dream. But it was a losing battle—no matter how hard she tried, thoughts of Fred crept back in, seeping into the corners of her mind, making it impossible to forget.

She'd written to Fred and George twice since their visit, mostly to arrange their plans for the day, but also to send payment for a couple of trick wands. George had responded on behalf of both, expressing their gratitude and promising to name a product after her. Matilda wasn't sure if she should be flattered or concerned.

Today, they were set to meet at the Burrow before heading to Diagon Alley, where they would catch up with friends, explore the shops, and pick up her schoolbooks. Along with the book list, her O.W.L. results had arrived a few days earlier—seven Outstandings and three Exceeds Expectations. Ten O.W.L.s in total, a result that had brought a sense of accomplishment, even if it had been overshadowed by everything else going on.