A Chance Encounter | Fred Weasley

Chapter 11

So school's been going alright?

Depends on what you think "alright" is.

Fred chuckled as he wrote to Michael in the notebook they and George had created. Michael had one for each of the twins and Clara so that he could talk to them whenever he wanted.

Is it that bad?

Well, Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Can't really say I'm learning much. Clara was right, too; I'm way more ahead of my classmates in Charms now

Just don't give him any of our products and I'm sure you'll survive the rest of term. And that's great! Maybe we can convince old Flitwick to put you in a higher class next term. Get you ready to make more products

There was a long pause between replies, Fred understanding that Michael was probably busy with his other friends.

Hey, Fred, can I ask you something?

Fred's brow furrowed as he wrote his response.

Anything.

Are you and Clara alright?

So much for this distracting from everything that happened that day.

I believe so.

What a lie.

What makes you ask?

Dunno. When she wrote to me today she talked about going on a date. When she said it was with Oliver, I was kind of surprised.

We're just fine, Mikey.

Fred leaned back at his desk and stared at the wall ahead of him, willing himself to not feel so emotionally involved with this girl. In his mind, he knew that he had already lost. It was Oliver Wood, for crying out loud. How could he compete with the smart, professional-Quidditch-playing ladies' man? He was a great friend, no doubt about it, but Oliver was competitive; always got what he wanted.

What got Fred thinking was what Michael said. Why would he be surprised that she was dating Oliver? Why would he think about Fred and his sister?

After about 15 minutes of no reply, Fred figured Michael had fallen asleep. It was really late and he knew that he should get some rest too. Closing his notebook, he took a brief shower and then got ready for bed, curling up in his blankets and hoping the bed would just swallow him whole.

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Michael –

As promised, I told you I'd tell you everything that happened last night with Oliver. I promise, no mushy stuff.

We went out to eat at that little restaurant in town that you like, the one with the chowder and sandwiches we used to completely kill for when we were kids. The chowder still tastes the same. The sandwiches felt like they got smaller. We should go there again when you come home for summer.

Anyway, things were pretty normal. We talked about his Quidditch games, my job, you and Roman. All the while that we were there, though, I just felt...I dunno...

Something just didn't feel right.

You know how you told me that I shouldn't sweat this date? I was internally freaking out.

I guess he could tell that I wasn't really feeling it. Oliver even asked me if I wanted to go home early. What hit me was what he asked next.

"It's Fred, isn't it?"