Scratches (Fred Weasley)

(93) Alone Together

Suffocating was the term that Florence would use to sum up her entire month and a half of summer living in the Black family house. As much as everyone had contributed to make it a little less filthy and to give it a homey vibe, they were a long long way from sterilizing the entirety of number 12 Grimmauld Place. And the fact that they barely had any windows at all was not helping.

She remembered the summer leading to her fifth year, around the same time of the month, the Clearwaters had invited both Florence and Xander to spend a few days in their family beach house by Brighton. Technically, it was her first time to ever see sandy shores, since she'd only ever swam in a lake prior to that. The sun was exceptionally warm that day, and the smell of saltwater had overwhelmed her. Florence secretly longed to go out of the house, just for awhile.

Apart from cleaning, she found herself in the company of Mrs. Weasley, who she liked working with in the kitchen. The past few days she had been trying to learn her delightful Pecan pie recipe, which she had leant her after Florence had taught Molly her Banana bread recipe which they made for everyone in supper that same day.

But Florence just wanted to go anywhere, really, even if it wasn't a beach. However, she knew that it would simply be an argument with her mother. So she didn't bother asking.

That was until impatience got the best of her.

"Love?" She heard her boyfriend call from the threshold of her room. Florence was lying on her bed, buried under a pile of thin blankets that she was supposed to fold up, but was eaten up by boredom and the depressed state of the whole house.

She felt the bed dip beside her, the blankets lifted off of her moments later. Fred had an amused look on his face at the sight of the prominent scowl on her face.

"You've been holed up in your room all day..."

"Well, I could go out and hole myself up in the kitchen. Unless, you know, there's a skylight window you guys have discovered, or, or a rooftop garden—Merlin, just anything. I'm going to go mad having to see grimy walls and roofs all the time, Fred."

He chuckled, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear, "I get you. It feels like so long that we've been in here."

"Right? I'm pretty sure I don't know what the sky looks like by now."

"Well, last time I've seen it, it was blue, with white cotton clouds."

"Hm." Florence pulled the blankets back over on top of her.

"But guess what?" he whispered, struggling to pull the blankets back off. She eventually gave in, her eyes peeping out of the blanket, "What?"

"Your mum said that George and I could take you out somewhere."

She shot up the bed, her eyes wide with excitement, "She did?"

"Yeah, to go take out the trash. Just a few feet away from the door."

Florence hit him on the shoulders, a scowl on her face as she flopped back down onto the bed, "You think you're so funny, don't you?" she murmured.

"I do think so," he laughed, laying down right beside her, "Hey, atleast you'd get to see the sky for a few seconds."

"You're mean."

"Aww," he cooed, "Baby, I'm sorry."

Her eyebrows arched, "Baby?"