prospicere futurum | fred weasley | cedric diggory

28

Fred took the final step into the common room, rubbing his eyes carelessly as he slung his bag over his shoulder before his eyes found her. She was in the same arm chair he'd found her in two days before, before the quidditch match, and like that day, if she had heard him enter the room, she didn't show it.

"Morning." He muttered, his eyes stuck to her as she finally turned to face him.

"Hi." Her voice was soft, and slightly hoarse, as if he might be the first person she'd spoken to so far today.

"You okay?"

"Fine." She answered, though Fred was sure it was a lie. He could see the way she winced against the sun rising over the windows of the tower.

"You coming to class?"

"No," She practically whispered, sliding two fingers over her forehead. "Have a headache."

Fred could practically feel his stomach clench as he watched her fingers press into the skin along her temples, the skin around her nail beds red, the edges of each nail practically chewed away.

"Have you eaten?" He offered, taking another step closer to her near the empty fireplace.

She shrugged. "Ella brought me some eggs... toast..." She nodded towards the half eaten plate on the coffee table.

"Alright..." Fred nodded, though she was no longer facing him, her head propped against her knee in what had to be the world's most uncomfortable position, though she looked quite content. "Don't have too much fun up here, okay?"

Without another word, he was through the portrait door and headed down the stairs, class long forgotten. Maybe she needed something healthy, some protein or some water or even a coffee, but knowing Ella, she had surely tried all of that already.

So Fred slowed at the third floor, spinning around the staircase and starting towards the familiar statue he and George had discovered so long ago now. He tapped the stone just once with his wand, muttering the spell, "Dissendium," and pausing only long enough for the dark entrance to appear before dropping down onto the dusty path.

It had taken him less than forty-five minutes to get to Hogsmeade and back, a bag of chocolate grasped in one hand, and honestly, the hardest part had been trying to convince the shop owner that he and George had graduated last year and were no longer in school.

His legs were practically aching by the time he reached the portrait hole once again, ignoring the Fat Lady's reprimanding sneer and scurrying inside. He had briefly wondered if she wouldn't have gone back up to bed in the time he'd been away, letting out a short sigh of relief when he spotted the messy blonde hair still poking over the same spot in the common room.

Her eyes flickered to his as the door slammed behind him.

"You're back." She mumbled.

"Very observant." He teased, not letting himself read into the tug at the corner of her lip that might have almost been a smile. "How you feeling?"

"The same."

"Did you take any medicine? I can go ask Pomfrey-"

"No." She bit back, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I'll be fine."

"Hmm..." He mused, dropping into the worn couch beside hers with a long sigh. "Well, that's a shame... because I went through all the trouble to find you these, and now you don't even need them?" He shrugged, tossing the honeydukes bag onto the coffee table, watching her eyebrows furrow before looking back to him.

"How... You went to Honeydukes? Just now?"

"Maybe."

"We haven't had a Hogsmeade trip yet this year..." She continued, and he forced back the smile threatening to spill over as he watched her mind race.