She was a misfit, he was a git.
Matilda Diggory enters her fifth year of school, ready to remain as under the radar as possible, only there's a catch. She's somehow managed to catch the eye of a particularly annoying redhead, who seems hell-bent on...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Where are you taking me?" Matilda whispered, trying to suppress a laugh as Fred tugged her by the hand down the corridor. Her heels clicked softly against the stone floor, and her other hand gathered the hem of her dress to keep up.
Fred looked back, grinning, his tie loose and his eyes gleaming just a little too brightly. "You'll see."
She rolled her eyes but didn't pull away. He was definitely still tipsy — not stumbling, just looser than usual, like his usual bravado had been turned up a notch. And yet, even now, he was annoyingly good at keeping her curious.
They weaved through the dim halls until Fred stopped in front of a tall, familiar door.
Matilda raised an eyebrow. "The library?"
Fred put a finger to his lips and eased the door open. "For educational purposes only."
"In that case," she muttered dryly, "I should've brought my potions homework."
He didn't respond. Just gave her that boyish look — the one that probably got him in trouble nine times out of ten — and tugged her inside. The quiet of the library wrapped around them as the door swung shut behind them, muting the music from the ball.
Matilda followed him through the shelves, the scent of parchment and candle wax settling in the air. Fred stopped suddenly, and she bumped into his back
"Easy there," she muttered, then read the faded gold lettering above them.
Defensive Spellwork.
She let out a low laugh. "Are you seriously still hung up about last year?"
Fred turned, wand already in hand. "Justice, Diggory. Pure and simple."
"Oh please. You were being an arse and I turned you into a chicken. It was warranted."
He raised a brow. "I maintain that I was trying to improve my wandwork."
"You tried to turn me into a duck."
He looked sheepish for a beat. "That does sound like me."
Matilda sighed, drawing her wand and kicking her heels off. "Fine. Let's duel. But don't blame the Firewhisky when you lose again."
Fred grinned. "No Firewhisky. Just raw talent."
He raised his wand, stumbled slightly, then tried to correct his footing like nothing had happened. Matilda bit the inside of her cheek.
"You good there, champ?"
"Shut it."
She flicked her wand. "Anaticula!"
A spark of yellow light darted from her wand and hit Fred dead-on. He blinked. Nothing happened—at first. Then, he raised his wand and cast, "Levicorpus!"
