Obliviate || Fred Weasley (COMPLETE)

Encounter

Fred ran to catch up with me as we walked back towards the Great Hall. We ran into the third year Slytherin trio that we all despise. "Well, if it isn't Bad Boy Blonde," I snapped.

"And Good Girl Ginger, hanging out with the underprivileged again, I see?" Draco spat back. "Well, I suppose it makes sense, considering you're just filthy Mudblood."

"Shut it, Malfoy," Fred defended. "She's a whole lot smarter than you and all the gits you're related to."

"Ah, so you've got yourself a boyfriend to defend you now, Baker?" Draco continuously mocked us.

"He's not my boyfriend for one," I corrected. "And two, I don't need anyone else to defend me. Unlike you, I don't spend every day at Death Eater Day Camp trying to come up with a good insult. Come on Fred, lets go."

Fred and I walked away, back into the Great Hall. I threw my essay back into my bag and Fred and I headed out for Potions class. "You know, you shouldn't let him call you that filthy word."

"What word? Mudblood? I'm used to it, Freddy, it's fine," I shrugged it off, looking ahead instead of at my best friend, knowing I couldn't look him in the rye when I said that.

"Well, you shouldn't be used to it, El," Fred replied. "That's the worst thing to be called in the wizarding world and you shouldn't just keep taking hits like that."

"I said it's fine, Fred!" I looked him dead in the face, seeing a hint of shock as I yelled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I just.... I don't always need for you and George to constantly fight my battles for me. I can handle myself just fine. I don't need you all over me all the time. Just leave me alone."

I walked faster and lost sight of Fred in the crowd behind me, as everyone was starting to head to class. I found my way down to the potions room and sat down at my seat in the back of the room.

Professor Shape entered the room after everyone else in class had settled down. "In your books, on page 12, find the Living Death potion. I'm filling in for Professor Lupin today, so by my return, I expect a fully and perfectly brewed potion."

Snape folded his arms and walked out of the classroom. Everyone stood up and rushed around the room in search of the ingredients they needed. I bumped arms with someone and mumbled, "Sorry." I grabbed what I needed from the shelf and glanced at whoever I bumped into. I see a pain-faced Fred staring back at me as I walk back to my desk. I look away and open my book, beginning to make the requested potion.

***

Halfway through potions class, George walks over to my desk, string in the unused chair next to me. "Hey-ya El."

"Hey Georgie," I reply sort of sadly, similarly to a lost puppy.

"What's got you in the dumps, El?" George asked. He had a look of concern plastered on his face.

"What 'chu mean? I'm fine," I obviously lied. I was horrible at lying to him and Fred. Normally, I never had to.

"No, you're not," George leaned on the desk with his right arm. "If you were fine, you and my brother would be on speaking terms right now."

"George, I love you guys and all, but I can handle this on my own, okay? I don't need your help with this," I say as I continue to stir my potion.

"Just try to work thus out then? I can't stand it having to be the middle man in this and have no one tell me what in the blood hell is happening. 'Kay?"

"Okay."

He ruffled my hair a little bit and gave me a bit of a side hug. "Thank you for listening to me, El."

George walked away and continued his work at his table with Fred. As I watched George walk back to their table, I found Fred looking at me with the same pained expression plastered to his face. I gazed into his dark brown eyes as he gazed into mine. The state continued for a few moments, until I ended up burning my hand in the flame under my cauldron.

"Ouch!" I squeaked as I pulled my hand out from the heat and broke the connection with Fred. I ran to the sink and ran my hand under cold water, all the while searching through the cabinet for a bandage. I found one and briefly observed the wound. The skin on half of my left hand had completely burned off, leaving a big bloody spot. I quickly tried to wrap up my hand, but clumsily dropped the bandage.

Before I could grab it, another hand picked it up and reached for my burned hand. I stepped back slightly, but looked up to see Fred once more. Without a word spoken, I allowed him to wrap my hand up. He did so very gently, trying not to hurt me. As if with any minor mishap, I would shatter. As soon as he tied it off, I flung my arms around him in a hug. After a moment's hesitation, he hugged me back, realizing that thus was my form of forgiveness.