HP ⚡️ One shots. || Preferences. || Fanfiction.

10. Our Last Song. [Fred Weasley]

Title: Our Last Song.

Pairings: Fred Weasley x reader.

Wordcount: 878

Warnings: Fred dies.

* * * 

Music.

She loved music. All kinds of music. Whenever she could, she sang. She sang when she's happy, she sang when she's sad, she sang when she's scared. According to her, every moment was a good moment to sing. Most of the people thought she was crazy, but she didn't mind it. It made her happy and that was the only thing that mattered. She also wrote her own songs, but it was a secret. Her own little secret. Until she met him.

* * *

It was a sunny day in march. All the students we're gathered outside to enjoy the first sunbeams. Everyone was excited to be outside again. Winter was gone, spring was coming. So was Fred with his brother and friends. His eyes scanned the field until he'd found her. He knew who she was, but he didn't knew her properly. Pity.

Everyone found her antisocial, he found her intriguing.

Everyone thought she was crazy, he thought she was magical.

He loved it to hear her sing, especially in Snape his lessons. Fred still remembered the day where she had given Snape the advice: to sing at least one song a day. It would make him more sympathetic.

So she was outside too. Sitting on the grass, with her notebook in her hand. Fred didn't know what she was doing. But he saw that she's singing again. Not out loud, but in her head.

Fred stood up and walked towards her. When he came closer he heard her humming an unknown song. She looked up and blinked a few times.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Are you writing a song?"

"I am"

Fred sat down beside her. "Sing for me", he demanded. She was surprised, no one had ever asked her to sing a song for them. Most of the time people told her to shut up.

So she sang.

For the first time.

For him.

* * *

Her head was resting on Fred his lap.

"What do you like the most about singing?" he asked her.

"Songs can describe how you feel", she replied.

"What do you feel now?"

She sat up, confused about what he just had asked.

"I can't tell",

"Than sing it",

And so she sang him a love song. Fred smiled and pulled her onto his lap. He placed a soft kiss on her lips, which she fully accepted.

"Will you once write a song for me?" he asked.

"That's the only thing I do since I met you",

* * *

Fred had become her muse. All the love songs were about him. Every touch, cuddle, kiss, ... inspired her to write a new one. He made her whole again. She could be who she wanted to be and he accepted.

She still wrote songs for him, even after he'd left Hogwarts. It weren't always happy songs, but that was okay for Fred. He send her letters and she replied, by writing her lyrics down. Fred liked it, because it were like poems. Poems he read to fall asleep. But Fred longed to hear her sing again. Fred wanted to hear the words roll over her lips. Her warm and soft lips.

Fred knew that her singing voice was the only sound that he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. They talked about it a lot. About the song she would make for their wedding, about the songs she would sing for their children. He wanted to be with her for always. And she wanted to be with him. Because as long as he was with her, she could keep on writing songs for the rest of her life.

* * *

She couldn't sing. Not today. Even though she'd promised Molly, Arthur and the siblings. Something was blocking her to even make a sound. George held her hand. Molly held her hand. She tried to focus on Arthur. Tried to focus on all the beautiful words that he spoke about his son.

He was strong.

He had to be strong.

For Molly. For the children.

For Fred.

Fred. Her lovely Fred. The one who had learned her to write love songs. The one who inspired her to write them. She lost him. Her muse. She couldn't sing anymore, not without him.

She'd always loved it to hear him sing her songs. He was quick in remembering song lyrics, especially her lyrics. Fred wasn't a good singer, but for her he was. No instrument in the world had a more beautiful sound then his voice. Sadly enough it was a sound she'd never hear again, only in her dreams.

It was silent. Everyone looked at her. It was her turn. She had to sing her song. His song. George pinched her hand which made her turn her head. Red swollen eyes looked at her, filled with sadness and hope.

"Do it. For him", he whispered. But she couldn't. Molly pinched her hand.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to do it", she said.

The thing was she wanted to do it. For him. To make him proud. To make him happy for the last time. So she took a deep breath and stood up. She walked towards Fred his coffin and let her hand rest on it.

So she sang.

For the last time.

For him.