Pinky-Promise (Fred Weasley Fanfiction)

Chapter 2: Chaos

The stairs were endless, all of us were out of breath from climbing for so long. "How much further do we have to go, dad?" Ron whined.

"Trust me boys and girls, these seats are worth waiting for!" Arthur replied gleefully, leading the charge.

We climbed further, "How much you wanna bet we miss the first half of the game?" Fred joked.

"Nothing, you're currently broke. And I think you've had enough betting for one day." I teased, poking his side.

His eyes widened with feigned shock, and he slapped his hand over his heart. "Oh the insult!" He cried dramatically.

Our laughter was interrupted by a cold voice from below. "Ah Arthur, didn't realize you'd gotten tickets."

We turned to look down at the two blondes beneath us, heading a different direction on the stairs. Draco Malfoy smiled smugly at us, his father beside him, his icy stare fixed on the eldest red head. "Yes, top box, now we better get going so we make it..."

"First and only time Weasels." Draco sneered with a hint of a lisp, "We're in the Minister's box, personal invitation from Cornelius Fudge himself!"

"Don't boast, Draco." Lucius said sharply, smacking his son lightly with his snake headed cane.

Though, I knew Lucius would laugh later at Draco's words. He took any opportunity he could to make the Weasley's feel less than. All because of their stupid blood status.

I felt Fred tense with anger beside me, his jaw clenched. I reached down to his hand, it was in a tight fist, and unfurled it with my fingers, lacing our hands together. I rubbed circles on the back of his hand, hoping to calm him some. I felt Fred instantly relax beside me. He smiled softly at me, and tried to ignore the Malfoy's. Lucius said something to Harry, quiet enough I couldn't hear, and we set off again, up higher and higher.

Finally, we reached the top of the stairs as another gong sounded. We pushed our way past other attendees, to a large open spot. We had the perfect view of the arena. They really were worth waiting for. I looked beside me at Fred, ever the Quidditch enthusiast. He had a look of awe on his face, and I couldn't help but smile at him. He was adorable. As I took a moment to look at Fred, I realized he was still holding my hand, absentmindedly stroking my thumb with his.

My thoughts were interrupted by Bagman, introducing himself, and the game. I felt adrenaline surge through me, and grasped Fred's hand tighter in excitement as he yelled, "Let the match... begin!!"

*****

We celebrated back in the tent after the match. Miraculously, Fred and George had predicted the game perfectly, and talked excitedly about their winnings they had yet to collect.

We danced around the tent, singing along to Irish tunes terribly off key. Suddenly, Fred grabbed me by both hands and spun me in circles, both of us consumed by giggles as we spun faster and faster. My head whirled, both from dizziness and happiness, and before I fell Fred pulled me back in towards him, holding me in a tight hug against his chest until we both stopped spinning.

I laughed softly into his warm chest, familiar butterflies fluttered in my stomach as he stroked my hair softly. I listened to the sound of his slightly elevated heartbeat, and closed my eyes to the steady rhythm. I breathed deeply, inhaling his smell of cinnamon. Fred let me go too quickly, sensing an opportunity to tease his younger brother as Ron declared: "There's no one like Krum!"

The twins smiled, and began chanting Krum in absurd voices as the flapped their arms like deranged birds around Ron. "He's like a bird the way he rides the wind!"