BUTTERFLIES; fred weasley x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT; after the game

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~Y/N's POV~

Ginny, Hermione and I were sitting in the corner of the tent as the boys all played around.

"So Ginny, how's it going with Harry?" Hermione teased, making the redheaded girl's face go a light shade of pink.

"How's it going with Ron?" Ginny shot back before she and I set off into a fit of laughter as Hermione sat red faced in front of us.

"We could always tease Y/N about who she's dating." Hermione tried to change the subject.

"Yeah, we could." Ginny smirked.

"Oh no." I muttered.

"Well we don't have to tease..." Ginny said. "But I do have one question for you."

"Go on then." I sighed.

"What do you see in my brother anyway?" Ginny asked nodding towards Fred, who was tackling George to the ground, laughing.

I looked into the caramel-brown eyes of the lanky, redheaded loser I call my boyfriend and smiled before turning back to the girls.

"Oh, he gives me Butterflies." I said. "He's funny yet annoying, he's actually nice and I love him."

"Really? Nice?" Hermione asked, looking at the twins, who were now both lifting Ron off the ground and throwing him onto the couch.

"Yeah."

"There's no one like Krum!" Ron exclaimed while he was standing up.

"Krum?" George asked in a stupid voice.

"He's like a bird the way he rides the wind!"

"Dumb Krum! Krum" the twins repeated, circling around Ron like birds.

"He's more than an athlete." Ron said as Fred threw the flag he was holding over his head. Ron pulled the flag off. "He's an artist!"

"I think you're in love, Ron." Ginny said with a smile.

"Shove off."

George took Ron's hand. "Viktor I love youuu!" He sung.

Fred got down on one knee behind Ron. "Viktor I dooooo!"

"When we're apart my heart beats only for youuu!" Harry and I joined in.

"Sounds like the Irish've got their pride on." Fred said as George and Ron hit each other with pillows.

"Stop stop stop!" Arthur yelled, running back into the tent. "That's not the Irish."

That's when I heard it. The noise we all thought were celebrating cheers were actually screams.

We all left the tent when I saw them. Death Eaters. They were hooded and wearing masks, marching together with their wands drawn. Then I noticed things floating in the air. They looked like people...

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as we passed over a burning tent and I recognised one of them: Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the Death Eaters below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

"That's sick," Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick...."

Hermione came hurrying towards us, pulling a coat over her shirt, with Mr. Weasley right behind her. At the same moment, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.