prospicere futurum | fred weasley | cedric diggory

40

Corinne let her fingers trail over the prickly needles of the Christmas garlands lining the bannister as she walked. Her legs were nearly aching as she turned the corner as she started up the final stairwell. Although the DA lessons, or meetings, as Harry preferred to call them, had been very fun and something Corinne had been looking forward to more and more over the last few weeks, all she really wanted to do right now was crawl into bed. The castle had grown colder over the last month as more and more snow and ice pelted against the stone walls, wind whistling through Gryffindor tower every night until she finally fell asleep.

Still, tomorrow was the final day of classes, and then it would be break, and most of the school would be boarding the train Saturday morning, heading home and leaving her in her own peaceful, relaxing bubble. She could make it to one final DA meeting before the two week break.

"Baker!" Corinne bit back a sigh, wondering how it was that Fred happened to be running just as late as she was, turning back just in time to watch him reach her side, grin plastered along his lips. "Coming to the meeting?"

"You caught me." She smiled, resisting a more sarcastic response. She wasn't sure what else she would be doing this late on a Thursday night on this end of the castle.

The edges of Fred's lips quivered, as if he had been about to laugh, or possibly say something risky enough that he had managed to stop himself. Before either of them could speak again, there was a low rumble, stone scraping against stone as the staircase lurched beneath them and Corinne jumped back without thinking, the edge of her foot slipping over the step.

She hadn't even fallen back, not really. Fred's fingers had latched onto her waist before she had even gasped, as if he had seen everything before it had happened, her eyes widening and her arm stretching for the bannister that was just out of reach.

"Woah!" He muttered, steadying her, his hands lingering along her waist as he watched her feet to make sure she was secure. He didn't let his gaze move from her face now, ignoring the way her fingers had tightened over his bicep, knuckles going white before she blinked, realization hitting her too quickly, dropping her hand from his sleeve at once. "You good?" He asked, ignoring the empty feeling running along his arm where her fingers had been, not even caring that it felt like he might be waking with a bruise there in the morning.

"I'm sorry." She swallowed, nervously, stepping out of his reach, right hand gripping along the stone beneath the garland as they waited for the stairwell to move again, guilt tugging at Fred's stomach. He forced his focus to her face, even as her eyes were trained to the floor. He could almost picture it, the image flashing through her mind. The staircase disappearing beneath her feet, the long drop down that never came.

"Don't be." He said, softly. He wanted to apologize. Again. He thought he might have apologized to her for the rest of his life, even though she had already claimed she had forgiven him.

The stairwell shifted back through the air, the low rumble filling the air before Fred could speak again, as if he'd had any plan for his next words. He just hated the way the color drained from her face, and the way she still hadn't met his eyes.

"How's your hand?" She asked, finally, breaking the silent tension easily, finally turning to face him, eyes flashing between his own and his hand. It was no longer bandaged, but the words lashed into his skin had already begun to fade, pink instead of red, half forgotten.

"Much better." He answered, trying for a smile as he held his left hand out closer between them for her to look over. "I think you've got a future as a healer."

She scoffed, shaking her head as the stairwell finally clicked into place, both of them scurrying up the final few steps and onto the safety of the seventh floor.