The Fall

by Prettyxrat

Summary:

Jealousy ridden storyline that follows OC Felicity Sinclair and her friends to lovers slowburn with Fred Weasley.
Relatively new story (and new to ao3) so bear with me as I work some kinks out (literally lmao)
Includes foul language, underage drug/alc use, and warnings are subject to change as I write.

Chapter 1: Number 7 Privet Drive

Summary:

Felicity receives a note from a friend and meets up with another for the beginning of a summer adventure.

Notes:

Felicity's Perspective

Comments and suggestions are so so appreciated, but your reads mean the world :)

August 6th, 1994:

 

"You will not bring about that raggedy boy again, do you understand?" her father shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as he practically shook with rage. "Harry Potter is troubled-- a disgrace! Working alongside Sirius Black... I'd think you know better than to be friends with someone like him."

She hadn't met Sirius herself, though she trusted Harry's word regarding his God-father, despite her past fear of his rather interesting Azkaban photograph.

Felicity gnawed on the inside of her cheek, poking at her lunch cautiously with her fork. "Yes... I should've known." She knew better than to argue with him when he was in this state, regardless of the topic at hand. "I won't ask again father."

While Felicity had her share of muggle friends, there was something so refreshing about being Harry Potter's neighbor. He understood what it was like to have to control your emotional impulses, what it was like to long constantly for the to return to school, and how to navigate (for lack of a better word) a strict household.

Her father went on muttering about how worthless Harry was turning out to be, and what a waste of strong magical genes he was. All he talked about these days was politics at work, or the occasional glimpse inside of one of his attended hearings (though those stories she'd have to eavesdrop in on to hear). He just complained a lot; nothing was ever right enough for Roman Sinclair.

Her mother was a bit more soft than her father though, but she supposed she thought she had to be, seeing as she was the muggle of the family. Her friend Ginny had bet that she was just scared to stand up for herself, thinking Dad would hex her if she stepped out of line. She had no siblings to take the focus off of her, so the pressure had always been pretty high to do well in her studies. Her mother had her do a lot of the cooking, which she didn't always mind, but other than that she was lucky if she got a solid conversation out of either one of her parents.

Pretty quiet house most days, but she didn’t always mind. When they were busy, it left her with plenty of spare time anyway.

BANG!

Felicity had about jumped out of her skin at the thud of a bird smacking the back window, feeling only less on edge after seeing a raggedy pile of feathers lying flat on the porch. Errol.

"If that damn-broke family doesn't get themselves a decent owl anytime soon, I'll be telling them to stop writing you," Her father stated, and she wasn't sure it was a completely empty threat. She was careful to keep her mouth shut as she went to fetch him from outside. "He's gotten so many feathers on our porch over the years, I could build them a new one myself!"

Errol hopped his merry way inside, fluttering up to perch himself on the back of an empty chair at the table. She tugged on the letter in his beak a few times before he was willing to give it up, and when he did he made himself welcome to the toast she’d neglected on her plate.

---

'Sinclair--

Hopefully this bloody bird makes it to Surrey alright and on time. We miss you loads, and mum's said you and Harry could come and spend the rest of summer here with us if your parents don't care. My advice... maybe don't ask and just do. George and I are terribly bored here with all of the chores mum's been putting us through.

Yours truly,
Fred

Also, please don't send Errol back with anything, he's probably embarrassed himself enough for a day. You and Harry can come whenever you'd like.'

---

She looked up from the parchment to find Errol asleep on her plate, and her toast surprisingly already gone. She glanced to her parents, who were still quite focused on their own lunches, besides her mother giving Errol a quick poke with the end of her spoon. Without a word, she rolled the owl off of her plate, brought her dishes to the sink, and headed upstairs to pack her trunk.

She debated telling them where she was going, but with Errol's identity being less than obvious, she supposed they already knew. But maybe not- sometimes they couldn't care less where she'd go off to. She was hoping that she'd catch them on a good day. Worst came to worst, she supposed she could deal with a howler once she got to the Weasleys, or at least a delayed punishment seeing as she wouldn't be back till Thanksgiving.

She'd been once for a week or two summer of second year, and then again last Christmas break, but she was feeling awfully excited to experience summer at the Burrow- away from her quiet, stupid house. She was hoping that Harry would be packing as well, as she was planning on getting out of there as soon as possible. 

The real concern, however, was getting ahold of her wand.

Her father had the wonderful habit of holding onto it for over the summers in case she'd be keen on practicing spells while underage, and she didn't appreciate this at all (seeing as she'd love to show him a hex or two sometimes). His study was on the third floor, and her own room on the second, so ensuring her trunk was completely ready, she shook out her hands and headed out towards the grand staircase.

The house was marble; a cold and hard flooring that left dainty clips of footsteps behind her as she wandered the hallways. The feather gray walls were lined with many thick framed windows, though the air was dimly lit upstairs as the thick linen curtains always stayed securely drawn. It was also clear, Felicity noticed, that the third floor was the cleanest in the whole place, which felt odd seeing as she hardly ever set foot up there.

She could hear her own breathing coming heavier through her nose, but she focused her attention on the faint echos of voices as long as she could before they officially faded out of earshot.

Cedar door after cedar door, fuck this hallway felt long. She was nearly there, she reminded herself. Nearly there.

She placed a timid hand on the trim of the door beside the brass handle, pushing in steadily while she turned the knob. It was on old trick to keep the hinges quiet-- she'd seen her mother do it a few times before she'd caught on-- but it worked, and her father's study unveiled itself in front of her as the door rolled open. Now, this room had to be the tidiest. Father's shelves of office trinkets whirred in a constant hum together on the walls, each with their own enchantment that kept them equal so the off-beat noises didn't annoy him. There were stacks of parchment and folders on folders placed neatly in rows on his desk, each with their own little label Felicity was sure her mother must've printed for him. And there- in a taunting shadowbox above it all was her wand, practically aching from the untouched potential of waiting for her all summer.

The trick now was getting out of the house as fast as possible, noticed or not. As if Merlin himself had been beside her, her parents were out on the back terrace- her father sulking over his newspaper, and her mother desperately attempting to get him to notice the sunset. A front door exit had not been what she was expecting, but it was lucky indeed, and she took it up.

Wispy, peach-orange clouds layered the sky like hundreds of brilliant cotton fabrics. The air was warm and damp from rain, and the smell of steaming hot pavement tinted the aroma of freshly cut grass. The street was relatively quiet besides the wheeling from her trunk and the occasional wren chirping, and despite her greatest hopes, Harry was not sitting on his front step waiting on her.

Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure he’d be expecting her at all. At least his window wasn’t barred up anymore.

She came up to number 4, parked her trunk upright, and ducked quickly, barely dodging a diving Errol as he came in for a landing on top of it. Wand sticking up from her boot, she grudgingly knocked at the door and waited for one of the pudgy Dursleys to answer. Petunia, Harry's aunt, opened the door a crack to take a peek at her, and Felicity guessed she’d rather it be her she had to speak to than Vernon. Petunia’s brows furrowed as she recognized her.

"Oh, it's you."

"Hello, ma'am," she said as politely as she could through gritted teeth. "I'm supposed to stop by and get Harry?"

Petunia looked quickly over her shoulder, and from the other room a thick and ugly voice could be heard, like the speaker had his mouth chock full of food.

"Whossat the door?"

She turned back with a scared expression plastered across her pale, boney face. "Vernon doesn't want him going anywhere."

Felicity blinked slowly, frustrated, but not surprised in the slightest,

"Well, er, then I guess we have a problem don't we?" She chuckled a little, trying to lighten the mood, but Petunia looked at her like she’d just spit something foul into her face. Her laugh died down awkwardly, and she scratched her arm as they stood in silence.

"Look, I hate to be rude, but... c'mon, the both of us know he's leaving with me."

Being a bit older than Harry, she'd always tried to take it upon herself to do her best at protecting the kid. Sure, she and the twins loved to prank the shit out of him and his friends, but that was like, way different. All she knew was that Harry would be coming with her to the Burrow tonight, whether his guardians cared for the idea or not.

Petunia picked up her chin and went to shut the door square in her face. Felicity placed her foot in the crack of the door, stopping it just a few inches from closing. Shocked, Harry's aunt went to wag a finger at her, only to double take a glance at her wand that was now crossing the threshold of her strictly magic-free home. Her panicked eyes met Felicity’s again, and she smiled curtly.

"Like I said, Harry's supposed to be coming with me tonight-- so if you wouldn't mind grabbing him for me?" she shrugged, pocketing her hands calmly, "Unless you'd rather me go and get him myself?"

Petunia looked back to the wand as if Felicity were pressing it to her cheek instead of tucked away with no intentions of being used. She hesitated for a moment, looked behind her again, and said quickly,

"Vernon, go and get the boy. She's got her... her you know what on her."

"Well, thanks," she said, giggling a bit at how ridiculously easy this was turning out. She didn’t get how muggles were so afraid of witches and wizards. She felt like if she'd been a muggle, and somehow lucked out enough to find out about magic, she’d want to know anything and everything. About 5 minutes of standing with her foot in the door, she heard the thud, thud, thud of a trunk being pulled down a stairwell, and out popped a shaggy-haired Harry from behind his quivering aunt. Nothing much else was exchanged between any of them until he was outside, his own wand gripped tightly in his hand, and the door slammed shut behind him.

"You can relax now- and put that thing away before someone sees you with it," she said hastily, motioning to Harry's wand.  

"Sorry," he sighed, slipping it away into his pocket, and Felicity threw an arm around his shoulders as they walked. "I had to point it around at Vernon just to get his big self out of my bedroom."

"I think I'd pay money to see that," she laughed.

”Where is it we’re going, then?” Harry eyed Felicity’s trunk curiously as they passed her house.

They headed out towards the public floo-network her father made them use a few blocks down. She’d use her own, but there was no way in hell her father would let Harry step near it, so this was the next quickest way to the Burrow.

"You know Mrs. Weasley's gonna hate your hair," she said teasingly, inspecting how long he was letting it grow. He tried to smooth it over hurriedly as soon as her sentence had left her mouth. "Just trying to prepare you for that speech she gave Bill."

Thankful to be back with her non-blood sibling, and to now be minutes away from her extended family and best friends, she dragged her trunk through the tight doorway of the park's "recreation building" as the muggles called it. How no one had found out about this spot, she’d never know, as she'd literally never seen anyone working inside of it. She tapped her wand to the door and whispered "alohamora," and the lock clicked itself open.

Inside was quite the opposite of cozy; a dark and dusty square room with peeling brown wallpaper that smelled richly of smoke fumes. They walked quickly past the desks and filing cabinets and towards the back of the room, where a great, soot-covered fireplace was embedded into the wall.

"Right," she said, dragging her trunk clumsily into the ash pit.

"I'll go first, yeah?"

Harry nodded at her with an affirming grin as she grabbed a handful of soot from the charmed bag hanging from the wall. He took a step back, Errol holding dearly to his arm as her words burst into green flames all around her.

"The Burrow!"

Chapter 2: The First Real Night of Summer

Summary:

Felicity and Harry arrive at the Weasley's.

Notes:

Felicity's Perspective

August 6th, 1994:

 

“Merlin’s beard!” called a familiar voice through the whooshing green flames, though it came across more startled than its usual warmth. The second Felicity felt her feet hit solid brick, she picked her head up and peered through the large poof of smoke she’d sent rolling into the Weasleys’ living room. Molly Weasley stood a few paces straight forward from her, clutching her chest and sighing deeply.

“Sorry, sorry!” Felicity coughed, taking a large step out of the fireplace and hurriedly reaching for her trunk so Harry could come through as well. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” She pulled hard on the metal handle of her trunk, but lifting it over the two-foot step between herself and the fire-pit was coming to be more of a challenge than she’d thought. Chucking awkwardly, she gave her trunk a more frantic heave. How many fucking school books had she put in this thing?

“Felicity dear!” Molly’s affectionate tone had returned as she’d calmed down, and Felicity could feel her chest warm at the sound of her voice. She’d drop everything to give her a hug if she wasn’t so concerned with getting out of Harry’s way.

“Move, move—leave it!” One of the many brothers of the household, Charlie, turned the corner to the living room and was now reaching quickly for Felicity’s trunk. She obliged and let the man through, trying not to show impressiveness on her face as he lifted it easily up and away into another room. “Hi Felicity!” he called over his shoulder coolly as he exited.

Felicity tried dusting herself off to the best of her ability, but before she could properly do so, Mrs. Weasley had her arms wrapped tightly around her. She beamed, sighing she felt a wonderful wave of relief pass over her through Molly's pats on her back. “So grown up!” she said, cupping her chin and surveying her quickly. “It’s only been a few months—how do you keep changing? BOYS!”

Felicity’s eyebrows raised, blinking in surprise at the shrill yell. She could hear some rummaging around among the flights of stairs overhead, her chest stirring as the fireplace roared to life once more. Footsteps began to near them, and (a much taller than she’d expected) Ron stepped in from the stairwell. “What, is Harry here?”

“And me, cheers Ron,” Felicity said snarkily, but he grinned anyway and gave her a quick hug.

“…You did bring him though, didn’t you?” Her expression fell in fake annoyance.

As if spawned by Ron himself, Harry’s figure appeared in the fireplace, his face screwed up as Errol squealed wildly on his shoulder. “Hello Mrs. Weasley,” he said kindly, and she and he exchanged pleasantries while a terrified Errol hopped away. Felicity watched as Ron went after his mother to greet his friend, but she was caught off guard by a tough thump on her shoulder.

“Rushed here as soon as you got our letter, did you?” She looked over her shoulder excitedly to see George standing over her, Fred coming up quickly behind him. "That desperate to see us?" George captured her in a tight hug, ruffling her hair with his knuckles.

“Ugh, get off of me!” she laughed and squirmed out of his grasp. “Do you always have to be so weird?”

“Aww, c’mon Sinclair,” She turned her eyes on Fred and his head tilted slightly, flashing that signature full-of-himself smirk. “Wouldn’t be any fun that way, now would it?”

What was with the genes in this family? It was like for every week that she hadn’t seen them they’d each grown at least an inch in height. The twins’ was hair still flaming red as ever, their faces dotted with handfuls more freckles from the summer sun.

Felicity went to roll her eyes at him as he gave her an embrace as well. “It’s only been what, a few months?” she mumbled into his shoulder, and through the poofiness of his sweatshirt her head rested on sturdy muscles. He'd grown up this summer, too. “You lot are acting like it’s been years since we’ve met up.”

“Says the girl who rushed here soon as we sent her an invite,” Fred scoffed, backing away and folding his arms over his chest. “Errol’s probably gone into shock from moving so quickly.”

Felicity said her ‘hellos’ to Bill, Mr. Weasley, and finally Ginny, who told her that Percy was too preoccupied in his room to come down at the moment. Molly made a fuss over everyone’s trunks getting up to the right rooms, and Felicity thanked Charlie properly for carrying hers up so promptly earlier. Mrs. Weasley also offered Harry and Felicity some dinner, which the pair of them took up rather quickly.

Despite only seeing the twins a few months ago, it had felt like years since Felicity had stayed here at the Burrow- though she supposed it probably had been. Her parents had her grounded all of last summer for receiving an E in Dark Arts over the term, or she probably would've stayed here then too. Fuck her house. The Weasley family was much more welcoming than her own- sometimes she wasn't sure why they wanted her to come home for breaks at all. Now there was about three weeks until September first, and she could hardly wait to start them.

“Ginny, show Felicity up to your room, will you?” Mrs. Weasley smiled at her brightly. “It’s getting late for you I’m sure, dear.” Covered in ash and thankful for her hospitality, Felicity slipped away from the twins for a moment and followed their sister up the creaky, winding staircase.

“I’m so happy you were able to come,” Ginny admitted as they entered her bedroom. “The twins have been talking about you non-stop as well.” It was a bit small, but nonetheless very cozy with its pink painted walls and widespread window. Through the glass and darkness of the night sky, Felicity could see miles of beautiful orchard, and out further still were clumped areas of massive willow trees.

Charlie had already set up Felicity’s trunk neatly in the corner of the room, right next to a very comfortable looking spare mattress that had been loaded until it was puffy with hand-knitted blankets and pillows. Ginny grabbed her a towel and showed her how to work the tricky shower, whose faucet squeaked loudly until it had been told off properly with a stern voice.

Felicity washed off as quickly and efficiently as she could, scrubbing the soot from her hair and brushing it out until it felt smooth again. She supposed it had been about half an hour since she came into the bathroom, but her teeth were brushed as well and she was feeling very content as she slipped into her pajamas. Satisfied with herself, she grabbed her spare things and pushed open the bathroom door to hear faint voices coming from down the hall.

It was nice knowing that there were such friendly people to keep her company here, unlike at home where the only chatting she heard were the echoes from mum’s late night trashy TV shows. She was scrunching some of the water from her hair with her towel as she walked down the hallway, following the voices of her friends which all seemed to be sounding from Ron’s room.

She creaked open the door, marveling at the amount of Cannon’s posters and Quidditch magazines covered the walls. Ron and Harry sitting on the edge of Ron’s bed. Ginny was sitting legs crossed on a desk chair, and the twins had themselves leaned up against either side of the door.

“You find everything you needed alright?” Ginny asked kindly, catching Felicity’s eye as she stepped inside, and she nodded.

“Yes, I feel much better, thanks,” Felicity said, and Ginny’s brows furrowed, gaze shifting towards the twin on Felicity’s right.

“What’re you looking at her like that for?” Ginny remarked, and every head in the room turned to Fred. She hadn’t caught the glance Ginny must’ve seen, as he whipped around to glare at his sister.

“Like what?” He said defensively, crossing his arms. “Oh, come off it, will you? Forbid I’m a bit excited to see my friend. Same as you.”

“Yeah,” George added, mimicking Fred’s strong body language. “You’re the one that’s been talking about her all week,” and at this, Ron nodded very quickly to Harry, who was looking at Ginny and cracking a smile from her flustered reaction.

“Actually, I heard it was you two making a fuss over me,” Felicity said jokingly, giving each twin a light smack on the shoulder. “If you’re gonna give her grief, at least fess up to your own missing me.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Fred sulked, messing up Felicity’s hair the same way George had earlier, and she swatted him away with an annoyed groan. “We were just talking about what we want to get into tomorrow—fancy a swim or something?”

“There’s this fun little lake out past the trees,” Ginny explained, though Felicity would’ve said yes no matter where they were going to go. “We’ve been going there a lot so far this summer, it’s been so damn hot out.”

“There you all are!”

Mrs. Weasley poked her head into the crowded room looking awfully tired. Felicity felt bad that she’d have to accommodate Harry and herself along with all of her kids for the next few weeks, but she’d be stupid to go back home to nothing.

“Off to bed now, all of you. Felicity and Harry are probably quite tired, whether they want to admit it to you all or not.”

She smoothed Felicity’s hair briefly and headed back downstairs, hollering a yawn-ridden goodnight over her shoulder.

She was right, surprisingly Felicity was fairly tired, so she followed suit and waved goodnight to the boys, letting Ginny lead the way back to bed. The homely warmth she felt from the knit blankets was about to send her to sleep on the spot, the lulling whispers of wind outside only doing her in further.

“Tomorrow sounds fun,” she mumbled through a yawn as Ginny got into her own bed with a jump and a flop.

“Yeah, it should be for sure. We’ll have to get into some quidditch while you’re here too—the twins never want to play chaser, so it’s always just me and Bill.. if I beg him enough.”

Felicity chuckled a bit, rolling onto her side and leaning into the fluffiest out of the many pillows she’d been given. “That sounds fun too.” Heavy as her eyelids were feeling, her thoughts were keeping her awake as she wondered what Ginny had gotten on Fred so quickly for. She made a note to herself to not look over anyone too much with her nearby to avoid a public embarrassment.

“I really did catch Fred looking at you,” Ginny whispered, breaking the momentary silence. Felicity was almost paranoid she’d just read her thoughts as she giggled again.

“Well, can’t blame him, can you?" She replied slyly. "I'm a catch."

“He sure seems to think so,” Ginny continued, stifling a yawn herself. Her bedsprings creaked as she rolled over to lay flat on her stomach, mumbling her words into her pillow. “He’s such a dork for thinking he could land a girl like you.”

“Yeah,” Felicity let out quietly, closing her eyes. “What a dork.”

 

Chapter 3: The Lake and the Clearing

Summary:

Fred and the gang go for a swim at the lake.

Notes:

Fred's Perspective

August 7th, 1994:

 

His eyes opened rather earlier than usual this morning as the sun poured into the room in long, glowing rectangles cut by the blinds. George's light snoring filled the place with a low grumbling, but neither of those things were what had woken him. There was an innocent excitement in his chest as he remembered that just across the hallway-- no doubt still asleep-- was his best friend, and he was quite eager to show her how the Weasley's spend their summers. More specifically, how he and George liked to do so.

After tossing back and forth for what felt like ages, he eventually gave up on sleeping in and threw on some sweatpants, deciding to head downstairs and see if anyone else was awake. At the very least, he could help mum start some breakfast if she hadn't already.

Yawning deeply, he tread as lightly as he could down the rest of the stairwell and into the kitchen, where he found his assumptions to be correct. His mother was whisking some kind of batter in a large tin bowl, and on the stove, their charmed set of pans were scrambling eggs and sizzling bacon. "You're up early," she sounded surprised, and she turned to begin pouring some of the batter into a third pan on the stove. "Breakfast will be ready soon enough, you'll just have to wait I'm afraid." He tapped her back lightly as he walked through into the living room, where he flopped lazily down onto the couch.

He leaned back and tucked hands behind his head, sighing and turning his gaze to look out the large window that pointed out into the fields. While it might have felt unreasonably early for Fred, it couldn't have been too early in the morning—the sun had already pulled itself over the horizon and was climbing steadily into a cloudless sky. From the glaring sunbeams streaming through the glass and the gentle swaying of the trees, he could tell it was shaping up to be another hot, breezy day.

The stairs creaked with the pace of sleepy footsteps. Fred leaned over his shoulder to see who had decided to join him downstairs; His sister’s figure emerged in the stairwell, rubbing her eyes groggily as she walked over to the sofa.

“You’re up early,” she said.

“And everyone’s on my case about it, apparently,” Fred muttered, rolling his eyes.

More groaning from the stairs signaled that Harry and Ron had woken up—likely drawn by the inviting smell of bacon that was now wafting through the house. Moments later, his mum’s voice rang out, calling everyone to breakfast. Sluggishly, they made their way to the table. Harry barely dodged a floating plate of pancakes, stepping back just in time for a second near miss from the butter zooming after it. Their mum came around the corner holding the rest, while Harry cautiously inspected his surroundings as they took their seats.

The last down the whining stairs were George and Felicity, neither of whom looked thrilled to be awake. George’s eyes were still half-shut as he trudged forward, and Felicity stretched an arm behind her neck while pulling out a chair across from Fred. Her hair was tousled from sleep, and her voice came out quiet and raspy as she mumbled a soft “morning” before reaching for the coffee pitcher. Fred couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he watched her.

Breakfast, as usual, was delicious, and the lot of them sat back fat and happy as they thanked their mum. As they finished, Bill and Charlie wandered in and helped themselves. Coffee and juice were passed around again while the group began chatting about their plans for the sweltering day ahead. Fred’s older brothers opted to stay behind and help with chores—a surprising choice, but he didn’t question it.

Soon enough, they’d all gone upstairs, changed into swimsuits, grabbed a few stacks of towels, and were heading out to the lake.

Stepping out onto the crisp, warm grass, Fred held the door for everyone one by one—George, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and then Felicity, who was stifling another yawn. He shut the door behind her, shaking his head with a chuckle.

“Still tired, Sinclair?” he teased. “George’s snoring keep you up from two rooms down?”

"Ginny's, actually," she said with a subtle grin, and Fred laughed as his sister whipped around to shoot her an angry glare.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, they finally reached the clearing. Everyone looked visibly relieved to be done trekking through the summer heat.

“Here we are—just through these trees,” Fred said.

“It’s gorgeous,” Felicity murmured admiringly as they pushed through a curtain of willow leaves. Beyond them, the glimmering, bright blue lake stretched out under the sun, its surface so still that it glowed with a faint golden hue from its rays. A rim of tan, sandy dirt hugged the edge of the water, cattails and wildflowers blending into the long grass that spread from the surrounding fields. Walls of willow and red maple trees created a rich barrier around the lake itself, secluding it beautifully from other townhomes and prying eyes.

“I can see why you’ve been coming here,” Felicity added.

“Yeah, we were lucky to stumble on it,” George said, dropping his things on a flattened, well-worn patch of grass. “Total accident—but we’ve spent plenty of days out here since.”

“…And nights,” Fred added under his breath, leaning down to whisper into Felicity’s ear so Ginny wouldn’t hear. “Nice spot for a j every now and then too.”

Felicity shot him a knowing look, her lips curling into an intrigued smirk as she followed George to their usual lounging area. He and his brother had been working on a charm for slow-burning papers for the past year or two, and after countless smoke sessions, Fred knew they were close to perfecting it. He always enjoyed having Felicity join them, though Ginny—unsurprisingly—hated the hobby. He knew  it was a horrible habit of theirs anyways, so better to leave her out of it as long as they could.

"Shit, it's blazing out," Ginny said, fanning herself with her hand in an attempt to keep cool. "I'm sweating."

"Me too, I'm so hot," Felicity agreed, pulling her shirt over her head to show off a bright red bikini. Fred swallowed hard and tossed his own shirt to the ground, distracting himself by laying out some towels. "I think I need to get in the water."

"Woah!" Ginny said, catching the attention of the group. "Since when have you got that?"

Felicity's brows furrowed, following Ginny's gaze before breaking out in a giggle. "What, this?"

Fred watched in a horror as Felicity motioned to her navel, which had a silver piece of jewelry hanging from it. He felt himself grow warmer still-- probably just the sunlight edging out from behind overcasted clouds.

“Just over summer- maybe a month or two ago,” Felicty shrugged.

"I've begged mum to let me get one- even just to pierce my ears or something." Ginny looked to be a mix of jealous and crossed towards her friend. "Unfair."

What was unfair was the fact that Fred had to take his eyes off of Felicity before his sister called him out for it again. It was unfair that his best friend had to go on growing up over summers, looking more alike the girls from the magazines Ginny called he and his brothers 'scuzzy' just for looking through. This wasn’t just any girl, it was Felicity-- his friend Felicity-- so he quickly shook it off.

Ron bet Harry he could beat him to the shore, and the two of them took off running in a heartbeat. The girls were quick to follow them, Ginny still rambling on about piercing questions to Felicity; Does your mum know about it? Did it hurt much? Have you got other piercings?

"Mate." Fred looked up to George giving him a deadpan stare, and he furrowed his brows.

"What?"

George folded his arms over his chest, a mischievous smirk on his face. "I'll bet Ginny did clock your arse last night."

"Er, what'd you mean?" Fred said stupidly. If George leaned into this it would be blown way out of proportion.

"You’re mad for Felicity." He had an annoying smile growing on his face when Fred didn’t reply. “S’ok if you like her, you know,” he said slowly. “I erm, well, you know I’m not interested in her is all.”

“I am not mad for her," he restated, shaking his head. “And you’re one to talk- written Angelina lately?” George lowered his eyebrows grumpily, but his smirk told Fred that he had.

He looked out towards the lake to see the girls already waist deep into the clear, blue water. Harry had pulled through for the win, and Ron was looking rather cross as he splashed some water at his friend.

"Can we just go swimming?" he said, not meaning for his words to come out as harshly as they did, but George didn't seem to take them poorly as they started after everyone else.

They’d swam for the better part of two hours before Felicity announced she thought that she'd lay out and suntan for awhile to rest. At this, George looked at Fred and wiggled his eyebrows, so Fred gripped him by the hair and dunked his head under the water.

"Ginny, did you want to join me?" His sister didn’t hear this, or if she did she ignored it as she was looking awfully giggly mid conversation with Harry. Felicity turned to Fred and made a similar, yet more surprised face than George had just flashed him.

"Well, alright then," she remarked with a scoff as she waded out towards the shore.

"Should we play a game?" Ron suggested as George's head resurfaced, his hair flat and matted over his eyes. He spit out a mouthful of water,

”I dunno if Fred’s gonna be up to it anymore, seeing as…“

Fred raised a fist at him.

”..Never mind.” He was grinning madly, clearly enjoying his newfound form of torture against his brother.

"Ooh, let's play chicken!" Ginny called out, her eyes brightening at the idea. George, Ron and Fred let out a collective groan at this proposal.

"Not chicken again, Ginny," Ron said, not hiding the annoyance in his tone. "We've done that every other time we've come here."

"What's chicken?" All eyes turned to Harry, and suddenly the complaining stopped and there was a silent, collective agreement to explain the game. By no shock to the three of them, Ginny picked Harry as her partner, leaving Ron, George and Fred treading awkwardly for a beat.

"Well, er, there's three of us," Ron said slowly, and as George opened his mouth to opt out, Fred quickly dunked his head under again.

"Ah, well-- guess I'll go and sit with Felicity," he sighed, and he could feel George send a frustrated kick his way under the water. George popped his head back up, sputtering angrily, but Fred ignored him as he turned and left him and Ron with the two prospecting lovebirds.

Dripping wet, he made his way up the slight hill towards their things, where Felicity had already made herself comfortable on an outstretched towel. The sun was still beating down, but it felt much more appealing with the coolness from the water refreshing his skin in the breeze. Eyes closed and one knee propped up, Fred found himself rather fond of how the water droplets clung to Felicity's smooth skin.

No, no we’re not going to think about that. They really were just friends, and it's not like he'd let her become some random hookup just because she had legs like those. 

He did however, think it upon himself to make sure Ginny never got a belly ring, seeing how keen he seemed to already be on hers.

He hovered his head over her and shook his hair out like a dog, earning a backhand on the shin and a groan.
"Ugh, you're so annoying!" Her snicker told him she was kidding as he settled himself on the towel beside her.

"Missed me already?" she questioned, smirk still intact as she tipped her chin up and closed her eyes again.

"Don't flatter yourself Sinclair," he replied dully, laying flat on his back and turning his head to face her.
"Just wanted out of a game of chicken." 

"Too bad, I'm great at that game." She was confident in her words, and he hummed as if he was giving this line great thought.

"You are, huh?"

"Mmhm, best partner to have." He sat up, scrunching his nose at his sister who was on Harry's shoulders just a while away. Felicity's voice pulled him from falling into a sudden anger towards the kind raven-haired boy he'd gotten to know.

"So, how long do you think that's been going on?"

He glanced down at Felicity, whose blue eyes had opened again and were looking up at him. She must've noticed him glaring over at Ginny, so he shook his head.
"She talks about him all the time, but I've never really thought about it as real, I guess." Harry was a great guy, don't get him wrong, but Fred didn't really think he felt the same as Ginny did for him, and he'd hate to see his sister hurt over him- over something as stupid as he thought relationship politics to be.

As if she'd read his mind, Felicity managed to calm him with a single sentence.
"He wouldn't hurt her, you know."

He nodded.
"I know."

"I dunno how he feels, but..." she shrugged,
"..I think he'd at least let her down easy, you know? Stay her friend."

Fred hesitated a moment before responding, looking back out to the lake to see Ron flexing his muscles in a showy victory from afar. Ginny had pulled Harry under the water with him as she fell.
"You think that really happens?" he asked, pondering his past relationships- or hookups, rather.
"You can stay friends with someone you've got feelings for?"

"Well, yeah," she said plainly, resting her head back again and taking a breath. "Don't you always want to be close with them anyways?"

He supposed she was right.

Chapter 4: The Morning Fire

Summary:

Felicity receives some news, and the gang has a silly quidditch game.

Notes:

Felicity's Perspective

August 12th, 1994:

 

"Fire! Felicity, get up!"

She was being shaken violently by the shoulders, the slightly deflated air mattress wobbling her body around loosely. Her eyes fluttered open, and she quickly tried to blink the sleep from them at the panic in George's voice. "There's a fire! Quick, we've got to get out of here!"

She sat up quickly, George's hands still gripping her arms as she did so. Head still fuzzy with drowsiness, she looked around frantically before realizing just who was doing the shaking. "Yeah, nice one," she yawned, looping her shoulder around so that he would have to let go of her. "Real original."

George shook his head quickly, no sign of amusement in his gaze. "I'm serious, Felicity, we've got to go!" She blinked dully at him, crossing her arms in annoyance and raising an eyebrow. He threw his head back in frustration, "Do you not smell the smoke?" 

Deciding to humor him, Felicity inhaled deeply, and the strong smell of something burning flooded her nose. Sniffing again she screwed up her face, and down the hallway she could hear Fred's voice sounding from a next-door room,

"Ron, get your lazy arse out of bed!" 

George made an expression at her, as if to say 'told you so', and her eyes widened. Pulling her blankets off of herself, she stood quickly and followed George out of Ginny's room, but she was yet to see smoke in the air even now in the hallway. The pair of them hurried downstairs, the thumping of footsteps behind them letting Felicity know Fred had managed Ron and Harry out of bed. On the first floor, the smell of ash was much stronger, and actually visible; there were a few clouds of smoke pouring into the living room from the kitchen. 

Feeling much more alert, Felicity rushed towards the door, pausing only when she noticed George with his arm casually draped over a post in the stairwell . Ron appeared in the stairway, followed by an out-of-breath Fred who was clutching his chest and gasping. "The air," he choked, and Harry shot him concerned, then amused glance from behind him. Fred fell to his knees,

"It's too thick, I-"

"You boys have got to be the worst lot of friends they could ask for!" Molly's voice came screeching from the kitchen, where she was standing in the doorway holding a black smeared rag. Hands on her hips, she had smudges of ash up to her elbows, and it also covered her apron. Felicity spotted Ginny behind her, fanning smoke out of the window with a towel. The twins were grinning madly, Fred still on his knees, as they looked to their scolding mother.

Felicity sighed, not knowing how she could've been stupid enough to believe either one of them. Ron just turned around looking knackered, pushed past them and headed back upstairs, likely to flop himself back into bed. Molly looked toward her reassuringly,

"Go on back to sleep, dear, it's only some toast that fell in the oven coals." 

"Wait, wait- Felicity, come in here a moment!" Mr. Weasley was calling from inside the living room, briefcase in hand as he was about to leave for work.

Shooting a quick glare of daggers at the giggling twins (Fred was laughing so hard he'd switched from his knees to laying fully on the ground), Felicity pocketed her hands and followed Arthur's voice into the next room. 

As he was big on muggle studies, Felicity was used to a multitude of ridiculous questions from the Weasley's man of the house; Does she have a telephone at home; What good was a pet bird if it was too small to deliver mail; What does 'Duran' mean, and why does everyone always refer to the word twice (though questions about her music taste were never bitterly answered).

Waiting to hear something random but not unusual, Felicity smiled politely at the Weasley father. He met her gaze with an excited twinkle in his eye, peering cautiously around the corner to ensure his wife had re-entered the kitchen. "You're a quidditch fan, yes?"

Felicity's brows furrowed, thrown off guard by his wizarding world question. She had been on the Gryffindor team since second year now-- chaser-- and Arthur knew well about that considering that his own sons were the team's beaters. She nodded,

"Well sure, I play."

"Yes, yes I know that, but," He lowered his voice, looking oddly suspicious as he looked around for anyone else to be listening. "I mean real quidditch. National teams and whatnot."

Felicity was quite the fan of the Thundelarra Thunderers, an Australian team who she'd gotten to see once as a young girl with her father. It was one of the few memories she shared with him, even though he had gotten too drunk to remember she was there and had afterwards wandered without her to a nearby pub. She'd talked the ears off of the security guards about how great the match had turned out until mother came to pick her up a few hours later. It was alright, though-- she could easily say now that seeing that match had been the spark of her passion for the sport.

She nodded again, looking confused at Mr. Weasley's dodgy behavior. "How would you like to go to the Irish match next week, against Bulgaria?"

Felicity's mouth fell open, her questioning attitude turning quickly into disbelief. She felt her chest jolt,

"Are you talking about the World Cup? Are you ser-"

Arthur shushed her, though Felicity hadn't been aware she'd spoken very loud. This morning was full of such chaotic emotions, and she'd only been up a mere 10 minutes (though she couldn't be tired at all anymore). "Are you serious?" She repeated, voice coming out in a harsh whisper in her best attempt to contain her excitement. "I'd throw an unforgivable just to listen in!"

"Good, good," he muttered, looking off and nodding his head slowly as if giving a second thought to her comment. "Sorry to be so secretive about this, but Molly's not the biggest fan of the idea. Says it's too much to ask for."

"Oh, I'd be happy to pay you," she added promptly, not wanting to take advantage of Mr. Weasley in the slightest. Her family was well off with money, though she supposed they were all humbled simply by the fact that most of them were complete dicks. Felicity would burn a hole in her pocket if it meant going anywhere near the World Cup.

"Oh, no, you'll do no such thing," Mr. Weasley continued, checking his watch and fixing up his tie a bit. "I've found myself with a sports connection at work who say's he'd front me some spare tickets. Molly's told me it's impolite to accept, but..." he grasped a fistful of floo powder and stepped himself into the fire pit. "I say otherwise."

And with that, Mr. Weasley had lit himself into the network and was gone in a green flash, leaving Felicity to stand, heart racing, in the arcid-smelling living room. 

 

...

 

"Alright, quidditch fans!" Bill had his hands framed around his mouth as he shouted from the ground towards the lot of them, acting as an announcer. After her conversation with Mr. Weasley that morning, and remembering Ginny had suggested they play a mock game sometime, Felicity had been eager to get some time on a broom. She'd mentioned the idea to Fred earlier, who took her up on it immediately and had convinced everyone else to join (not that it took much negotiation).

He was standing opposite her now, broom mounted as he stared her way, motioning his eyes and then to herself as if to say 'I'm coming for you'.

It was still a decently hot day even now at sunset, but there were a few clouds shielding a cool overcast upon them that had been absent in the days before. The lot of them were out in a large, grassy and mostly tree clear field a short walk away from the Burrow for their match. Felicity had played in mock games before at Hogwarts for practices, but never really just for fun like this. She'd also gotten a letter that morning from her mother, which had only given her more fuel to burn off.

Molly has informed us of your whereabouts. We will discuss your abrupt departure when you return for break in the fall.

She’d honestly been quite surprised to hear from her parents at all. 

However, in good news, her mother had sent Felicity’s own black screech owl along with the gloomy note. She’d been gifted Felony for her 12th birthday by her parents, though she had been suspicious it had only been because she was constantly writing using their prized family messenger. Fred and George thought the name Felony was hilarious of course, though her father hadn't been a fan.

George was the beater for Felicity's team--who'd quickly, but with little argument-- claimed the role of chaser. Ron was put on keeper, and Charlie decided that one game of playing seeker couldn't hurt. The opposing team consisted of Ginny as chaser, Bill as keeper, and of course, Fred as beater.

Ginny had quickly advocated for Harry to be their teams seeker, stating it was only because "you lot have got the chaser of the century". While she'd hardly call herself that, Felicity had knowingly side eyed her friend when she'd claimed Harry. Ginny had just shrugged it off,

"oh, whatever, leave me alone."

"I want a nice, clean game," Bill stated, mocking Madam Hooch's pre-game speeches. "No shoving each other off, or mum will kill us all."

"Booooo!" George shouted at his brother, and Charlie shook his head. 

"Piss off, Bill, we miss Jordan!" Fred hollered, earning a laugh from Felicity and Harry. Bill rolled his eyes, grabbing the quaffel and tossing it back and forth in his hands.

"Ready?" He said, looking for both team's approvals to start the match. Felicity crouched her legs down, ready to kick off as she gripped tighter to the end of her broom. She'd packed her firebolt for school, but she'd thought there was no harm in using it now seeing as Harry was using his just the same. She could practically feel the excitement flowing through her body, her knuckles turning white as she tried to keep her hands from shaking.

"Go!" Bill cried, throwing up the quaffle and quickly releasing the other balls before sprinting back to his broom. 

Felicity kicked off the ground rather hard, sending herself soaring quickly into the air ahead of her teammates beside her. The warm, summer air rushed around her face and blew her hair steadily behind her, heart fluttering at the familiar and wonderful feeling that was flying. The quaffel had just begun its descent from Bill's throw, and Felicity noticed Ginny reaching out towards it at about the same distance as herself. Ginny was a fair flyer, and Felicity knew that despite this being a game for kicks, her own competitive side was sure to show itself.

Managing to get to the ball before the red haired girl zooming towards her, Felicity wrapped an arm quickly around the quaffle and dove sharply down towards the grass. Muscle memory proving itself useful, she leaned forward and rushed across the field, eyes on a concerned looking Bill Weasley as he hovered by a tall douglass fir they'd chosen as a goalpost. Bill was readying himself as she approached, and Felicity heard the telltale whack of a bat followed by the wizzing sound of a bludger. 

She looked over her shoulder, ignoring Ginny on her trail and instead scanning for the metal ball sure to be heading their way. The bludger, however, was sent soaring past her shoulder with out her having to avoid it too much. She swerved left as she neared the tree, but with a great effort Felicity heaved the quaffle towards the right. Bill, who was clearly following Felicity's body language, had already started left before he had seen her attempt a goal, and the ball slipped past his reach just as he noticed where it was headed. 

Felicity threw her hands up, smiling brightly as Ginny flew past her, cussing under her breath. The Weasley sister hurried herself to the quaffle, securing it in her grasp and looking wearily at Felicity as she continued onto the field again. Taking a breath, Felicity followed her close, waning side to side behind her debating on which to approach her from. Ginny was locked on her target ahead of her (Ron, who was hovering near Harry as they had a chat), and Felicity took this to her advantage as she sped a few feet ahead and gave a sharp hit to the quaffle.

It popped itself from Ginny's grasp, who slowed and broke her gaze from her brother, so Felicity quickly threw herself over under her friend to snatch it. Ginny grunted in frustration, flying right beside Felicity in an attempt to keep her from turning back around. When Felicity leaned right to try and turn herself, Ginny was there to block her, and when she leaned left the persistent chaser would swap sides, forcing her to fly straight. Ginny was definitely a good player, and Felicity thought she might try out for the team when she was a bit older.

Whack!

Frustrated to be nearing her own team's goalpost, the sound was a relief to Felicity's ears as she looked quickly down towards the noise. Unfortunately, it was not George coming to save her from her bind, but Fred again, who put a hand up to his eyes to block the sun as he watched the bludger he'd sent. She knew she'd have to be unpredictable to avoid both Ginny and the hurling bludger, so Felicity steadied herself the best she could before pulling herself into a sloth grip roll.

"Wha-?" She'd heard Ginny start as she successfully begun flying the other direction, though she was now upside down. Rather than finishing the loop, she hugged her broom tightly with her knees and managed a sideways rotation to turn herself nightside up. She'd kept the quaffle tucked between her elbow and her side, and as she neared Bill she released it before smacking it hastily with her brooms end. Bill, who was looking rather distracted by her actions, sat still and let it fly past him through the trees.

Felicity wondered if she should feel embarrassed for playing so aggressively, but Bill's reaction was as reassuring as it was hilarious. She was realizing now that he hadn't actually seen her play before, since their Hogwarts years had never aligned properly.

She heard some faint chuckling coming from the other side of the field, and upon turning around, she noticed Ron's shoulders shaking with laughter. He was glancing between Bill and Charlie, whose expression was as equally shocked. 

Harry, however, was flying pristine laps around the sparse trees below them, arm outstretched as he neared the snitch. Felicity didn't care that they'd lost when he caught it; the image of both elder Weasleys hovering with their mouths open in surprise was enough to satisfy her for the evening.

Whack!

She glanced down to see Fred's swing follow through, a bludger flying her way for the third time. "Hey!" She called, avoiding it easily as she was doing nothing else. "Game's over, dumbass!"

Notes:

A sloth grip roll is essentially like a loop you'd see on a roller coaster, where the player pulls their handle up and hangs themselves upside down momentarily before coming nightside round again. Usually it's used to avoid bludgers or other aggressive players :)

Chapter 5: A Spliff and a Discman

Summary:

The twins have a run in with an Angry Mrs. Weasley, and Fred gets insight on Felicity's muggle interests.

Notes:

Slight cw for drug use.
Fred's Perspective

August 13th, 1994:

 

He'd slept unbelievably well last night, Fred had thought to himself as he practically peeled his eyes open. His vision was still thick from sleep as he stretched, turning over and re-burying his face into a pillow when his muscles let on the slightest twinge of soreness. They'd played four games of quidditch yesterday afternoon, and while they were all relatively short (Harry couldn't miss the snitch for anything in that open field), his shoulders were sure feeling as through they'd been full length Gryffindor matches.

His body felt so heavy at the moment that the only thing that held the chance of getting him out of bed was the thought of breakfast downstairs. George, surprisingly, wasn't still snoring, and when he snuck a peek across the room Fred noted that he must've headed down for that very reason. There was a faint smell of toast and sausages that had managed to drift itself upstairs to his room, and he silently played the game of who's footsteps were making the floorboards creek as he laid in bed and listened. Merlin, how he loved an easy summer.

He stayed in bed for awhile longer, enjoying the time to sleep in and rest knowing that he had no homework, no responsibilities, and a pre-rolled spliff in his dresser drawer. George had mentioned to him last night that he'd wanted to show Felicity some of the sweets they had been working on, and Fred hadn't minded this idea in the slightest. She was really good at potions and transfiguration, and he'd been wondering to himself if she'd have any tips when it came to the shop seeing as those weren't his best subjects.

Besides the obvious issue of how it would be funded, he and his brother had actually come up with a half-decent plan at entrepreneurship. They'd made a fair selection of joke sweets and things-- even got a list of potential prices and buyers for when school started up. Lost in thought, he had had his eyes closed when there was a soft knock at the door.

It swept open with a low creaking sound, though he'd already guessed who it was by the light padded footsteps that approached him. "Oi, Weasley, your mum wants you downstairs."

Felicity stepped over to his bedside when he didn't answer, and she let out a sigh at his lazy state. His bed was just too comfortable to care what his mother needed him for, especially if it was just going to be some rubbish about his studying harder again. He heard her chuckle a little,

"Freddie, get up you loafer- I know you're awake." He tried his best to lie still, taking deep breaths as though he were still sound asleep. Before he could get a gage on if this faking it plan was working, he was suddenly being shaken very roughly by the shoulders. "Fire," she screamed, "there's a fire! Get up, we've got to go!"

She couldn't get the words out without giggling in between them, and Fred felt his lips tug themselves into a smile. He groaned in fake annoyance, rolling over and rubbing his eyes. He folded his arms under his head, leaning back against his pillow as he finally looked up at her. She was standing with her arms crossed over her chest, already in her day clothes, and Fred wondered how late he'd actually slept in for Felicity to be up and going.

"W'time is it?" He muttered, his voice hoarse as he yawned. 

"Around twelve. I'll admit, I was surprised to see George downstairs before yourself."

Fred let out a scoff of annoyance. "It's cause he barely hit any bludgers yesterday," he reminded her. "Hit, what, at least twenty myself." His muscles still ached, and he pretended not to notice Felicity gaze momentarily at his arms,

"More like fifteen."

"You're gonna fight me on five hits?" He rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling oddly content with himself. "A girl makes a couple of goals, and look-- arrogance goes straight to her head."

"Your mum wants you downstairs, you prat," she repeated matter of factly, though Fred could see a smirk behind her words.

"She say what for?" He asked, sitting himself up and noting that his back was feeling quite tender as well. Felicity shook her head,

"Not to me, no. Your twin's with her already though, so... I can't promise you I think it's all that great of news."

Brilliant. He nodded slowly again, standing up and heading over to his closet to find himself a shirt. Felicity's attitude had shifted as well; she looked rather nervous as she threw an apology over her shoulder before heading back downstairs. 

After getting himself dressed and a half-hearted attempt at fixing his sleep messy hair (which had been getting rather long for his liking), Fred managed his way into the kitchen where his mother was cleaning up from her cooking. There were a few lunch leftovers on the stove, including one or two sausages, dry toast, and some brightly colored strawberries that looked to be well in season.

George was at the dining table, a doomed expression across his face as he sat leaning back grumpily in his chair. He caught his eye, but Fred's gaze was quickly refocused onto the colorful pile of charmed sweets on the table in front of him. His stomach dropped.

"Sleepy, are we?" His mother started as she'd noticed him enter the room. "Stay up too late working on that rubbish?" Her hands were promptly on her hips, and a frustrated blush stained her cheeks that Fred guessed had been there long before he'd walked in.

"It's not rubbish, mum, we've told you-- there's some real complex hexes-"

"That do not belong in your vocabulary!" She was quick to cut off his defense. "If either of you spent half as much time studying for your exams as you did on fooling around, you'd be in line for head boy like your brothers!" This was not at all how he'd seen his day starting out,

"I'd rather not turn out anything like Perce." 

Fred crossed his arms, casually looking behind him to see if anyone else was around to hear them getting screamed at, but it was only the three of them inside. He suspected the others were out enjoying the nice weather, though there were dark clouds far out that hinted at a summer storm.

"You'd do well to try!" Mrs. Weasley howled, shaking her head back and forth with disbelief. "Grades sinking, only three OWLS, letters from Minerva every other day..." She had that familiar 'I'm disgusted with you' look plastered across her face that drove Fred to be more irritated than he cared to admit. "You'd think you two would act smarter."

George said nothing, and Fred felt quite bored of hearing this same lecture again,

"We do plenty well for our marks, mum."

"Plenty well?" She choked. "You think mucking about with barmy pranks such as those," she motioned to the candies on the counter in a rage, "is considered plenty well?"

Despite hearing all of this before, Fred was getting plenty frustrated at this rate; half with George for not standing up for them (though he was sure he'd already gotten his own earful while Fred had been asleep), and the other half regarding the growing pit of shame he felt in his stomach. He hated feeling sorry for himself.

"Felicity's a bright girl. If you've got yourself set on being separate from your brothers, the least you could do is look to her for advice." 

"Don't compare me to my friends!" Fred shouted suddenly, before he'd even realized how much that line had upset him. Mrs. Weasleys voice had gone calm,

"I wouldn't need to if you'd only focus on your future. You're wasting it, both of you." 

"Right," Fred replied shortly. "Anything else, then?"

George had looked up from his staring place on the floor, and was now eyeing Fred with a semi-surprised look at his outburst. His mother said nothing, just sighed and shook her head as she continued to clean, and Fred and George swiftly left the kitchen. He was still hungry, but it didn't feel worth finding lunch if it meant having to stay near his mother any longer.

"Sorry about all that, mate," George said quickly once the pair of them were back in their room. "I was only showing Felicity the ton-tongue taffies, and I swear- she appeared out of nowhere." He was trying to laugh it off, and normally Fred would've probably joined him in bashing their mother's antics. At the moment, however, he was feeling oddly embarrassed, and violated by her words. He stayed quiet as he checked their drawers for the rest of their stash.

"Didn't er, expect you to speak up like that," George tried, and Fred flopped himself onto the foot of his bed and shrugged. He didn't really feel like talking about it anymore. He wished he hadn't missed breakfast.

... 

The summer storm eventually did roll in around five that afternoon, and sheets of rain tapped at his window like hundreds of angry bees. He'd calmed down plenty to say the least, his pre-roll half burned and charmed to contain the smell. Mrs. Weasley was very unlikely to go up and speak with him for the rest of the day, and Mr. Weasley wouldn't be home until later, so he'd practically had the house to himself.

The others had spent the last few hours by the lake, George joining them, but Fred's thoughts had been too messy for him to enjoy himself outside. He was still in his room, resting comfortably against bed frame, his guitar in his lap as he heard the others return from their outing.

It was this old, unfortunate thing really, but to Fred it meant a great deal more than it looked. It had been one of Charlie's old acoustics that he'd begged to borrow when he was younger, and when he'd moved out his brother had been kind enough to pass it down (seeing as he'd beaten it in plenty and purchased himself the latest and greatest to replace it).

He was self taught-- besides a few pointers from Charlie-- but he played for the sport of it rather than perfecting songs, so lessons hadn't really mattered to him. Then again, he wasn't sure he could afford them even so.

He'd taught himself a few things from Spellbound, a popular wizard soft rock band he and George liked to listen to. Of course he'd picked up some of The Weird Sisters too, but with an acoustic like his, he could really only choose from their slower songs. He'd kill for something with a bit more life in it, like Charlie's newer one that he'd conveniently left back at his place in Romania, but realistically every penny he had was being saved for he and his twin's shop. So for now he'd have to be content with this piece of junk in front of him and the quality high he'd brought himself on.

There was a clatter of footsteps thundering up the staircase; he could hear the giggling voices of his siblings and friends slip past his room as they made way to their own. George opened the door moments later, his hair flat to his head and slick with rainwater. His t-shirt was soaked just the same, spilling a trail of cold droplets behind him as he walked inside and nodded a hello to his brother.  

"Hey," Fred mumbled, not looking up from the guitar in his lap. "Get rained out, did you?"

"Oh, no, just got bored." George stood for a moment, staring at him with a perfectly sarcastic blank expression. The floor was quickly dampening beneath him, "not like it's bucketing down or anything."

"Well, that's good," Fred chuckled, and George headed into the bathroom to start the shower warming. "Glad you had an alright time."

His voice was suggestive, "seems like you did too."

"What'd you mean?" Fred replied, tone slightly laced with panic. "I cast the eradication charm like, four times-"

"Have you looked in a mirror, Fred?" George had taken off his shirt and was ringing it out over the sink, a smirk plastered over his face. "And I know you weren't crying your eyes out. You leave any for me?"

Fred rolled his eyes, continuing on with his playing. He'd been attempting Saturn Linguistics for the past twenty minutes or so, and was feeling fairly satisfied with himself at the result. He told George the drawer to find his things in, and he indulged himself quickly in the other half of his spliff.

"Greedy git," he muttered loud enough for his brother to hear, but George just flipped him off and headed to take his shower. He continued playing for awhile, wondering if he and the others would get into much else later that night. Another rap at the door made him pause.

"Erm, come in," he said cautiously, and he was relieved to see Felicity on the other side of the door. Her hair was wet too, though it looked clean and washed; Her toffee brown waves that were normally quite voluminous were curling neatly into ringlets from the water. She was wearing a maroon sweatshirt that Fred thought she'd rather drowned in, her pajama shorts barely poking out from underneath it was so long. He felt immediately more comfortable, as if for some reason he'd only just now pieced it together that she was staying here, in his house, and with him.

Felicity, although easily one of the closest of his friends, was hardly ever able to visit the Burrow. She'd been once for Christmas, he remembered, and perhaps another week at some point since he'd known her, but Fred realized how happy he was to have her so... around. They'd hang out in the common room, or sometimes each other's dorms, hogsmeade, school, et cetera; but nothing had quite felt as organic as seeing her in front of him just now, looking at ease in her pajamas. 

Her eyes lit up and her brows furrowed at the same time, like she'd just stumbled upon a happy accident,

"You play guitar?"

"It's not like it's a secret," He said with a shrug, and she shut the door behind her.

Fred really only played for himself, though he supposed playing music was the kind of hobby people typically liked to show off. Acoustic didn't always feel his style anyways, or he'd have probably been bringing it with him to school to flaunt around.

He knew Felicity played piano, as last Christmastime his parents had requested different holiday carols from her. She'd politely agreed, though her face had gone plenty red and she'd shooed off any compliments his family had given out. Other than that, he hadn't really heard her play much either, so he decided that maybe he wasn't odd for keeping it to him alone.

She treaded over quickly, taking a seat at the foot of his four-poster. "D'you take requests?"

He nodded, feeling proud that he was likely to know a few songs that she might guess. "Go on then." 

Her lips formed a pouty smile, eyes darting up slightly as she hummed in thought. "Fleetwood Mac?" She decided. "The Chain?"

He hesitated, shook his head, and she paused again for a moment. Her expression changed again, like what she was about to say was such an obvious choice,

"Starman?"

He started at her blankly again, and now she looked bored. He wondered if Felicity was naming made up titles just to screw with him, or if he must be pretty faded.

"..Waiting for a Friend?" 

"What're you on about?"

She threw her hands up in exasperation before resting them in her lap, leaning forward with a subtle annoyance towards him. "I meant the stones, you thickhead. What is it you listen to?"

"Not any of those, Sinclair," he said with a scoff. "I know a lot from Spellbound, like a normal person would?"

She sighed, as if disappointed. "Oh, Weasley," she shot him a partly annoyed smirk, shaking her head. "You and your pureblood attitude. Can I show you something?"

She left promptly, and Fred sat waiting a bit befuddled when she returned holding a black, boxy container attached to two thin chords. She settled on his bedside again, only this time a bit closer to him than before. She smelled sweet- almond and vanilla.

"I got this earlier this summer," Felicity said brightly as she began unwrapping the chords, which had been raveled carefully around the box. "It's called a discman- plays CD's. Surely you've heard some muggle music before?"

He found himself shaking his head yet again as he set his guitar on the floor beside him. To be honest, the idea of it had always sort of bored him. His dad had played them all a record or two, as he was very fond of an old phonograph he'd taken home from work awhile back. It hadn't been a very good one though-- it skipped almost every song since the needle had been bent-- so his mum had rid of it pretty quickly despite his father's liking to it.

Felicity didn't look at him any certain way, showing she hadn't thought he'd been dumb for not knowing about muggle artists. "S'ok. Here-" She reached around him, putting an end from each chord into either of his ears. He said nothing, just stayed still and let her do so. She glanced down at the discman again, and Fred noticed his hearing had become muffled as she began to press a few of its keys. "Got the Synchronicity album in there now, it's a good one."

Suddenly enough to make his chest jolt, music had started, playing so crisp that he couldn't hear much else going on besides it.

Every breath you take

And every one you make

Every bond you break 

Every step you take

I'll be watching you

It was nothing like any music he was used to. Much clearer, with smoother instrumentals, more meaningful, even. Yes, yes this was quite different than what he'd been expecting. The girl beside him studied his face, looking for a reaction.

"I like it," Fred said, though he must've spoken louder than he'd thought seeing as Felicity flinched slightly at his words. She smiled, nodding at him as he took out one of the ear pieces. 

"I think you'd like The Police," she replied, and Fred figured to himself that this must be the band's name. "There's erm. I've brought others, too, that I think you would like. If you'd want to borrow that."

She nodded to the discman casually, and she took the open earpiece and held it up to herself. She glanced over Fred, face alive with excessively passionate emotion about the lyrics as she lip-synced,

I look around but it's you I can't replace

I feel so cold and I long for your embrace

I keep cryin', baby, baby, pleaseeeee

Fred shook his head at her behavior, though he couldn't help but laugh at her either. Felicity let out a little sigh after her solo, closed her eyes and laid flat on her back. Fred had no choice but to follow suit, seeing as the chord around his ear gave a small tug as she lie down. They listened quietly for a moment until the bathroom door swung open to reveal George, who immediately folded into hysterics at the sight of them.

"You guys look stupid." 

Notes:

Saturn Linguistics is a song by the Weird Sisters :) Why is there hardly any info on wizarding bands out there?

The eradication charm (Deletrius) is a spell that disperses smoke.

Song lyrics are from Every Breath You Take - The Police

Chapter 6: Face paint and Overanalyzing

Summary:

The group makes their way to the World Cup.

Notes:

Felicity's Perspective

August 18th, 1994:

 

Despite half of the house still moping about in complete exhaustion, Felicity found herself wide awake at an early hour that morning. Fred and George were slumped against each other on the sofa, and Ginny was poking listlessly at her breakfast. Felicity thought Ron looked the most dreadful, however, as he clunkily made his way down the stairs. Hermione had surprised them all that morning at the Burrow, waking each of them up for the rest of the day's events.

The 1994 Quidditch World Cup. She could still hardly believe it, and they were planning on leaving within the hour for the grounds. Felicity couldn't remember being this excited for anything in her life; not even when she'd won the Gryffindor quidditch cup her starting year on the team.

Soon, but not soon enough, they had gotten together the remainder of their things are were heading out the door- though Fred and George were practically running. Mrs. Weasley had just confiscated a great deal more of their pranks and sent them off with an uncomfortable load of shouting. This seemed to have at least woken them up however, and Felicity was quietly a bit glad about this. She'd been beginning to feel as though she and Harry had been the only ones who'd cared about seeing the match at all. 

"Mental, mum lately," Fred was saying through gritted teeth as he pulled his bag higher up on his shoulder. "Taking all our shit-- that we charmed, mind you. Lucky she didn't find our other stash, or we'd be dead men walking." 

"Yeah, speaking of, did you bring that? Or the money for Bagman?" George was trying his best to flatten out his hair, which like most of the Weasley boys, had begun to grow onto the longer side. Felicity was almost surprised Mrs. Weasley hadn't forced the lot of them into mandatory haircuts before the school year.

They walked on for what felt like hours, the sun rising with gold bursts in the sky, and with it soon followed the August heat. They'd stopped once fairly briefly to meet up with one of Arthur's friends from work, Amos Diggory, and his son Cedric, who most of them had known from school. Ginny and Hermione were quick to look back towards Felicity when he'd approached, each one of their expressions giggly as the three of them noted how handsome Cedric was looking after a summer apart.

He was tall, though maybe not as tall as the twins, and had a clean, mouse brown haircut. He'd clearly grown into his height, and was looking much less lanky than Felicity had remembered him to be. Instead, he had a decent build, proud stance, and a bright smile about him that was particularly contagious to the girls. 

"Alright, you four?" He beamed, nodding at the decent portion of the Gryffindor quidditch team as he fell into step with them. Amos immediately went into celebrity mode at the sight of Harry, shaking his hand for a rather long time before his son rescued him from further embarrassment.

Mr. Diggory had kept going on about how great Cedric was turning out, boasting about his previous win against Gryffindor in their sport. Felicity sighed bitterly, flashbacks of that game storming her mind. She'd worked her ass off after Harry had fallen (not that she blamed him in the slightest), and scored the only five goals for her team to no avail. 

Harry wasn't looking all that upset at the moment, seeing as Cedric quickly corrected his father regarding his fall. The twins however, were straight faced, clearly still holding some kind of grudge against the loss.

A great deal more walking and one portkey ride later, they had landed (very roughly) at the grounds of the World Cup. To her surprise, Cedric had helped Felicity back to her feet when she'd stumbled, a soft smile on his lips as he did so. She'd known him off the pitch, seeing as he was the Hufflepuff seeker, but had only shared a few conversations with him as a whole- and even half of those were from within the last hour of walking. Ginny had stopped on a dime and marched herself up to Felicity's side once he'd left,

"And I thought turning thirteen was sound," she said with a dramatic sigh. "You're so lucky you're sixteen." 

Felicity scoffed, and Hermione appeared on her opposite side.

"Do you think he'll sit with us?" She asked cheerfully. "At the match?"

Felicity shook her head, unsure. Mr. Weasley had only managed to squeeze in another ticket from his connection for her to be able to join, so she doubted that this supply had included the Diggory's passes as well.

"Bet he tries," Ginny said teasingly. "Bet he'd fancy sitting next to Felicity."

"Ha!" She called, nudging Ginny on the arm. "Hardly!"

"You never give yourself any credit," Hermione said plainly, frowning her lips and looking forward, where Cedric's brown hair stuck him out from the flaming headed group. "You look awfully grown up, you know."

Felicity thought about this for a moment. She never gave herself credit? To what, boys? And she was grown up-- turned sixteen just a few weeks ago-- but she didn't see how that mattered any any more than being thirteen or fourteen like they were. 

"I'm just saying," Hermione had apparently read into her confusion, "that I don't think it's that laughable a prospect."

"What, me and Ced?" Felicity couldn't really picture herself dating anyone who played on a team opposite her. She supposed people would expect her to go easier on them, which was an even funnier idea than the one Ginny had just suggested.

"You and anyone," she shrugged back, and Ginny nodded quickly at this.

"You hardly bring boys around, 'sides my brothers," She made an icky face at this. "And I don't think they count."

... 

Settling into the Weasley's enchanted tent, Felicity could easily see the fun forming for the rest of the afternoon. Still grumpy about how their morning had started, the twins were eager to share with her that they'd tucked away some liquor for the game, and she'd acted surprised even though there had been plenty of suspicious clinking from their bags while they walked. There were plenty of rooms inside, the three girls claiming a loft for themselves and deciding on a cushion fort for the center of their beds. The kitchen was loaded with snacks, and Felicity was almost thankful the twin's sweets had been confiscated, or she'd probably have ended up with a thirty foot tongue later on.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had briefly set out to find some gear for the match, and Ginny was currently occupied (though not very merrily) helping Mr. Weasley set up some decor outside the tent. She would've helped too, but some more of his work friends had come by, and Felicity didn't feel much like making smalltalk. Fred and George were taking the opportunity of their father's absence to pour some of their liquor into the water bottles that Mrs. Weasley had packed them. The liquor to mixer combination they were concocting looked admittedly concerning, about an eleven to one ratio based on how clear the result was coming out.

"Merlin, Weasley- this is awful." Felicity's nose was scrunched up from the burning aftertaste of firewhisky.

"That means it's good," Fred replied with a look on his face that suggested she'd been stupid for not thinking of this herself.

True freedom was found at last when Arthur announced he was going off to a friends tent for a drink, and serendipitously this was the same time that the young trio had returned. Each of their arms were full, stashing amongst themselves a few pairs of omnioculars, loads of different Irish apparel, and colorful pots of face paint. George made Felicity swear Ginny wouldn't find out about their drinking, as he was almost positive she'd squeal on the pair of them and they'd already had enough things confiscated. 

Felicity had a little voice that wouldn't stop nagging her in the back of her mind while they sat around passing the time before the match. The impression the girls had given her earlier was almost that they were surprised she hadn't already snogged half of the school at this rate. Was she really all that grown up, like Hermione had said? Was she meant to be bringing boys around all of the time? Did muggle boys count? Loosen up already, you sound so uptight.

She took another drink- the firewhisky would clear her head, she decided.

She was quite right.

They'd all abused the face paint Ron had given them as well, each with their own obnoxious green shamrocks to show their pride. Felicity had found herself being put to work, doing her best to paint decent lines on the twin's faces while the drinks began settling in. By the time the match was about to begin, Felicity, George and Fred had drained a bit over half of their bottles, and were each suspiciously giggly. 

Arthur led the lot of them to the top of the pitch. They'd passed Cedric and his father on the way up, as well as encountered an unfortunate run in with the Malfoy's, but not even they could kill Felicity's mood. She had a nice buzz from the horribly unbalanced drink Fred had given her, and some of the best seats in the house to watch the finals.

The game had been going very favorably towards the twin's bet, and the pair of them were terribly excited with themselves at the prospect of prize money. Fred kept resting his elbow on the top of her head like an armrest when the Irish would score, sighing dreamily and saying things like "could start coming here every year after what Bagman's about to owe us" and "when this is all over, the Hufflepuff greenhouses are gonna be well compensated". Felicity would've killed for some weed herself-- she hadn't had a smoke in what felt like ages.

Only about halfway through the match, she'd had the uneasy feeling of a strange pair of eyes burning into her. Scanning her gaze a few rows down, she'd found the culprit to be a kind eyed boy that looked like he could be around Felicity's age. He had a shorter, dark haircut, a sharp jawline, and structured, fiercely handsome facial features. He was decked out completely in Bulgarian gear, and when she'd caught his gaze he didn't look away embarrassed- he'd smiled at her.

Though slightly surprised at this, Felicity--empowered by her friends' advice and the alcohol in her system-- returned the gesture. Say something, the voice encouraged, do something. She brought her hand up and waved, giving him a once-over. The boy tipped his head to the side, seemingly pleased with himself, and Felicity turned her gaze back to the match in front of her, a subtle smile pulling at her lips.

Troy, an Irish chaser, had just had a near miss with a speeding bludger, and was looking around in a toss for his team's beaters. George and Fred were hollering madly, boasting about how they could've gotten there just in time had it been them.

"Hi," came a voice from in front of her, in an accent that was thick and new against her ears. She looked down to the row below her, sort of staggered to lock eyes with the boy from before. He'd stepped over a few rows, and was now standing against the metal railing of the balcony railing to look up to her. Felicity felt her cheeks get warm very quickly. The biggest match of the year was right in front of them- it barely made sense for him to wander over for a chat.

"Erm, hi."

"Great match, eh?" He called over the roaring of the crowd- Troy had managed to score a goal despite his close encounter, and was doing a few speedy victory laps around the posts. Felicity nodded,

"Yeah, s'fun!" She slurred. "Though, I bet not as much so when you're rooting for the losing team, huh?"

The boy laughed, shaking his head. "S'pose you're right." Ginny elbowed Felicity in the ribs,

"He's cute!" She whispered, leaning over to her shoulder. "You know him?"

Felicity shrugged as she turned to face her friend. Ron, who was standing beside Ginny, seemed to have noticed their encounter too as he was looking quite confused at Felicity. This didn't last long however, as he and Harry quickly went back to watching the game.

"Listen," the boy said quickly, taking her attention once again. "I just vanted to-"

"Could you quit it with the shouting, mate? I'm trying to watch the match here."

Fred had cut him off, though he didn't give him so much respect to even look down at him while he did so. Felicity and Ginny shared a look of confusion at Fred's lack of regard. Felicity decided to blame the action on his empty water bottle.

"It's a bit loud here, yeah?" She sent the boy a half smile.

"How 'bout you come back after the match?" Ginny was glaring at her brother, whose eyes still hadn't left the field.

Felicity felt herself take on a new level of mortified at the thirteen year old's actions. The boy in question, however, seemed to be much more receptive of this response than he had Fred's, and he smiled, nodding curtly. It felt odd to her that she, Felicity, had been the one out of the lot of them to have made a new acquaintance at the match. She thought if anything it would've been one of the twins trying to uphold their Romeo reputations. 

She didn't know then of course, how the rest of her night was going to unfold.

Notes:

Hope you guys are enjoying this so far :) Thank you for the hits I appreciate you all!

Chapter 7: The End of Summer

Summary:

World Cup chaos, end of summer and returning to Hogwarts.

Notes:

CW for scenes of violence, as I'm sure you know what happens at the World Cup in 1994.

Felicity's Perspective

August 18th, 1994:

 

She didn't see him again that night- the boy from the match. In fact, she wouldn't really think about him again until she was back at the burrow, wondering whether or not he'd had the same luck as her to escape such a terrible massacre. 

It had started out of nowhere, and Felicity reflected on how long it might have actually gone on before anyone had noticed. The cheers and rallying from the Irish's big win had slowly matured into a more dense, frightening commotion- it could only be described as a descent into pure panic. Drunken celebrations turned into horrifying screams; the booms of fireworks blended in with the earth shaking explosions; the level of high spirits had plummeted into a dread so heavy, so real.

Everyone's faces in the tent had fallen at once, and they could physically feel that the festivities were long over.

"Ginny is your responsibility," she heard Arthur's voice say sternly to his sons, although Felicity wasn't really listening. It was horrible. Half of the tents they had just passed hours ago had been set ablaze, and the crowds that had filled them were running frantically through the smoke towards the forest. Bright flashes of green were shooting through the field, large groups of dark hooded men at the firing end of the wands that cast them.

"Sinclair, snap out of it." There was a hand on her shoulder, trying to break her from her state of shock. Her buzz was gone. Her feet were rooted to the ground. Her breaths were deep and trembling as she stood, unsure of what to do with herself. "Sinclair."

He gripped her arm tighter, and she managed to pry her gaze from the ash clouded scene ahead of her. Fred was wearing an expression more serious than she'd seen from him before, his amber eyes wide and earnest, and she finally nodded, unable to speak.

So they ran.

Felicity didn't think she'd ever run so fast in her life- but then again she was barely aware at all in the moment. She followed tight behind Fred, George leading the pair of them with Ginny's arm in his grasp. They pushed through floods of wizards, some bumping harshly into their sides as they hurried themselves in the opposite direction of the traffic. They paused only to step around fallen pieces of burning wood planks and to avoid the occasional blast from a curse. Felicity could barely bring herself to step over a misshapen lump of clothes- no, no, it was much worse than that.

They didn't rest until they'd reached the shelter of the thick trees on the outskirts of the field, and even then they kept going into the thick of the forest. Nothing felt safe, and yet all they could do was wait. And they waited, and waited for what felt like hours. Felicity was sick to her stomach thinking about what she'd seen, particularly the muggle bodies that were being thrown with vicious intent into the night sky. She had muggle friends back home. It was unimaginably cruel.

What was worse still, was what she hadn't seen.

Not one of them had laid eyes on Harry since the initial floodgates had been opened, and curses had spewed out left and right at anyone that dared stand up to the attackers. Ron and Hermione had managed to keep up behind the lot of them, which was a relief despite all they had experienced. Felicity sat on the cold, forest floor, knees to her chest with Ginny's head resting on her shoulder. Fred had his back against a thick tree trunk, spinning his wand nervously between his fingers. Ron wouldn't stop pacing, George stood with his arms folded, and nobody really spoke.

They had to have been there at least an hour or two before Hermione got up, took a still pacing Ron by the elbow, and wondered without a word into the trees. They all knew where they were going, and what could they say to stop them? 'Don't go looking for your potentially dead best friend'?

The dark mark had appeared with a brilliant green flash that lit the dark sky, though by now it only looked to be a remaining haze of verdant smoke. George cleared his throat, breaking the quiet,

"Think we could go and find dad now."

This was all he said, but it was enough, and everyone rose to their feet and marched their way back towards the eerily silent clearing. They found Mr. Weasley, as well as a group of his ministry coworkers, who immediately questioned the lot of them about what they'd seen. To everyone's relief, Hermione, Ron and Harry were with them, the raven haired boy sporting a few scrapes on his cheek. Felicity didn't understand why it always had to be him that managed to get into the worst situations, but she was plenty thankful to see him alright.

A man called Perkins had offered up an extendable tent for them to spend the night in-- seeing as the death eaters had been chased off by now-- which Mr. Weasley graciously accepted. They all settled into their beds with no pillow forts, no giggling, and no secret spliffs to pass around while the other's slept.

Her eyes stung from the still-settling smoke, and though they begged to be eased with sleep she felt she felt as though she had to keep them open. Felicity had been staring at the canvas tent ceiling as it waved quietly in the dull wind- what at first was an attempt to lull her to bed was now an acting distraction to keep her from her thoughts. She thought about the fires, about the mark and the cloaked men. Surely something like this would make it to a wizengamot hearing? Would her father have to get involved?

"You up too, Sinclair?"

She tipped her head to the side, leaning on her pillow to catch Fred's eye from across the room. Everyone else had apparently managed to fall asleep, but he was sitting up in bed, wearing the same tired look Felicity was. She nodded plainly, and it was quiet for a beat. 

"..S'gonna be ok, isn't it?"

It was his turn to nod in response. He was very still, sitting there with his lands in his lap and gray ash smearing his freckles. He wore a small smile, and Felicity thought of how he'd looked when she'd first met him on the train; body slouched nervously, yet a voice so confident that you'd never expect him to be scared. He was always good at that confident front. She wondered now if he felt just the same as she did, laying there in bed.

His quiet gaze somehow felt very comforting, as though she were laying there next to him rather than her own cot across the room. She felt hot, ill with anxiety, and so incredibly small. For once, instead of trying to hold everything back, Felicity let herself drift to sleep holding onto reassurance from a friend.

...

The next few days consisted of nothing much else than sleeping in, swimming, and laying in the sunshine listening to muggle music. What at first Felicity assumed would have been an activity for the night, Fred's initial interest in the discman had turned into him practically harassing her about different albums she thought he'd like (though she'd told him he was welcome to check any of them out for himself). Once he'd played Synchronicity all the way through at least six times, she'd finally given up and played him a few of her suggestions.

None to her surprise, Fred liked most of the rock artists that she'd shown him- particularly Def Leppard. Seeing as half of the time he'd insist they listen together, Felicity had heard much more of Hysteria that she'd ever thought she'd manage. He did fancy a few of her non-hard rock favorites though, like 52nd Street or Out of the Blue, but these apparently weren't as new or exciting as Adrenalize. 

"Those came out ages ago," Fred gestured to her in a dramatic disgust as she'd went to change out the cd. He'd been lounging with a real swagger about him, acting quite educated on muggle bands since his introduction to cd's just two weeks ago. She, him and George were out by the lake, enjoying the last day of their freedom before their return to school the following morning. "You just don't get Run Riot like I do Sinclair."

"I- I don't, really?" She scoffed, looking down at him from over her sunglasses. She'd unpacked her small radio and plugged it into the discman for the lot of them to be able to listen, seeing as the headphones weren't really fit for an outing. "Who was it that bought the bloody album, then?"

She got the feeling that Fred might be the type of guy to only obsess over what was in front of him (in this case, electric rock songs about sex) than other artists that were out there for him to find. She'd make him get to those, eventually.

"I quite liked those Pixies blokes," George chimed in. It felt obvious that he wasn't nearly as interested in the music as his brother, but it was easy to guess that he too was in need of a break from head-banging. "Could you play them again?"

While the heavy dread of coursework had begun looming over her head, Felicity was throughly happy to be back at Hogwarts. The beginning of term feast had been wonderful, and her bed was set up to comfortably welcome her back to Gryffindor tower. One of the best parts of returning, however, was the reunion with her friends. She had a few back in London as well--muggles from primary school, from before she'd even got her letter-- and while they were kind it was much harder to get close with them seeing she was only home for two months of the year.

Lee Jordan had joined them for the feast, as well as Angelina Johnson. Kenneth Towler, the twin's and Lee's fourth roommate (who seemed to have less friendly opinions on the them than Felicity) slowed his pace and shot them an uneasy look at he passed them in the common room that evening. 

"See you upstairs, Kenny!" Fred called singsongingly after the lanky boy as he passed through the doorway towards the stairwell. He had a mop of chocolate brown hair that he'd neglected to cut over the summer-- maybe much longer, by the looks of it-- bright green eyes and very sharp features. She swore she'd heard him mutter something along the lines of 'fucking wanker' under his breath.

"Why is it he hates you again?" Angelina asked cautiously from her spot on the sofa's armrest.

"No idea," George replied dully, looking up from beside her. "He's a total sod, if you ask me. Never wants to have any fun."

"I thought it's cause Fred put bulbadox powder into his clothes last term," Lee corrected, looking as though he were daydreaming favorably on this memory.

"Oh no, he's way past that," Fred waved his hand in disregard, as if the sight of Kenneth's feverish boils alone hadn't made everyone in their house avoid the twins for a week straight out of fear. "Some blokes just hate on you for no reason."

"Right.. no reason." Angelina said sarcastically, a very solemn look on her face. George shrugged and shook his head, as if genuinely quite confused,

"Some mysteries may never be solved."

"What I want to know," Lee encouraged, "is who the Hogwarts' champion's gonna be."

Dumbledore had announced that the Twiwizard Tournament would be held at their school this year, naturally pulling an immediate interest from Fred and George. Two other schools would be staying among the grounds; Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and the Durmstrang Institute. Everyone had also, of course, taken an instant favoring towards Viktor Krum, the famous Bulgarian seeker Felicity had just seen play at the cup.

Must be a lot of pressure, playing professionally and staying in school, now with an add on of potentially competing for eternal glory. While it was exciting to have something like this going on, Felicity had turned up her nose at the mention of quidditch being cancelled for a second term in a row.

"Me an George, of course," Fred stated, adjusting his tie proudly. 

"First of all, it would only be able to be one of you," Angelina had an eyebrow raised as she glanced at the pair of them. "Dumbledore would be mad to let both of you tossers in."

They opened their mouths to defend themselves against this attack, but Felicity spoke quickly,

"Not to mention that neither of you are seventeen."

She threw her hands up in defense when their offended glares turned from Angelina to herself. They looked rather funny, arms crossed grouchily on either end of the couch. 

"For now," they replied archly, sharing that stupid, mischievous grin that Felicity knew meant they'd already been planning something stupid.

"Bloody hell, here we go."

Chapter 8: Hallway Spectacles

Summary:

Classes begin and a potential romance stirs.

Notes:

Fred’s Perspective

September 7th, 1994

 

"Just because we're potions partners does not mean you'll be copying off me all term."

At the sound of Felicity's voice, Fred's head perked up from its resting place on the arm of the common room sofa. While he'd been fortunate enough to score a free period first thing Wednesdays, no one else seemed to have such good favoring seeing as Gryffindor tower had been awfully quiet that morning.

"You'll have to let me eventually, if I tank our marks."

George was following Felicity through the narrow passageway of the portrait entrance, an amused grin across his face despite having just returned from one of his first classes. His brother noticed him draped lazily across the entirety of the couch and made his way over.

"Was bloody scared for double potions," George admitted, flopping himself into a nearby armchair and throwing his book bag to the ground with a thud. "But I can't believe my luck. Random pairings for partners, and I've got Felicity."

"And we're both just so thrilled about it," Felicity said blankly, propping her elbows on the back of the sofa and leaning on it tiredly. Most of her face showed disappointment, but she could never hide her subtle smile when she was being sarcastic. "I swear, between this and charms with you, my workload's looking to be doubled."

A smug grin pulled at Fred's lips as he remembered his Tuesday lecture with her. He looked up to Felicity, who was squinting at him suspiciously like he'd be slacking off same as George.

"Least I'm actually decent at charms," he shrugged, closing his eyes and leaning his head back into his hands. George scoffed at his remark as though offended.

Fred was decent at charms, but he was also glad to have Felicity with him to make Flitwick's lectures a bit less boring. His Tuesdays and Thursdays consisted of herbology, charms, and dark arts before his elective of divination (which the lot of them had somehow managed to get into together), and for once he was pretty happy with this schedule.

The rest of that Wednesday was spent grueling through history of magic, potions, and double transfigurations, though he supposed that class could've been worse considering George had been in it as well. Thursday came quickly enough, and after a decently quiet herbology lesson with (a still avoidant) Kenneth and Hufflepuff, Fred didn't complain as he gathered his things and headed up to the third floor.

After rounding the corner from the stairwell, he swiftly picked Felicity from the crowd of wandering students and frantic first years. She was leaning up against a pillar near the end of the hallway- though he'd noticed just as quickly that she was not alone. Beside her was Kendall Callahan, a Ravenclaw girl in their year Felicity got on quite well with. She had long, deep brown hair that had been done into thick, fluffy curls, pinned back into a ponytail. She had quite a thin figure, accentuated further by her height, and stood straight with her chest puffed out in a way that Fred thought was an attempt to look like curves.

The pair of them stood talking with a boy in a Durmstrang uniform.

The Beauxbatons' girls that occasionally filtered the great hall had brought a lot of excitement among himself and his roommates, but besides Victor Krum, Fred didn't really care for any of the other Scandinavian students. Not that they bothered him, it’s just they weren't as fun to eye as the French girls. Those damn skirts.

The boy they were talking to looked over to him as he approached,

"I reckon it's you they've been vaiting on?" His tone was playful. Fred glanced down at the girls, who had given him a brief smile before returning their attentions to the boy. He was tanned and had a fairly sturdy build, his dark hair fixed into a messy crew cut. Felicity had her books held tightly to her chest, and she was eyeing this guy admiringly. "Arne Beck," he attempted a tough smile and stuck his hand out to Fred, who nodded and took it in a shake.

"Fred Weasley," he said slowly, still cautious of Felicity's odd body language. Kendall whispered something to her and her face went an uncharacteristic shade of red. 

"You, erm, you remember-" Felicity started to him. "We met him at the match? Before..." Her voice trailed off, and she shook the thought away quickly. Fred was silently glad she'd left it at that.

"Oh, right, the noisy bloke," he replied shortly, though he was quick to add a laugh after he was met with three sideways looks. "Only joking, mate. You're here for the tournament, then?"

Mm," he agreed, accepting another commending look from the girls. "Hopefully so. Reckon everyone wants it to be Krum, though."

"Not everybody," Felicity said playfully, tipping her head slightly to the side. Fred's brows furrowed. He folded his arms across his chest,

"Thinking of going for it myself- for Hogwarts, I mean."

Kendall and Felicity apparently thought this was pretty funny, seeing as they stifled giggles amongst themselves at his words. Arne pocketed his hands, interested,

"Yeah? S'proper of you. Heard it ought to be quite the challenge."

"Weasley, you're sixteen."

Felicity was looking at him from under raised eyebrows, shaking her head looking a bit amused. Kendall wore a look that was just as disbelieving. Arne, though nearly as tall as himself, gave Fred a quick and uneasy once over. He chuckled awkwardly,

"Well then, that's a challenge in itself, innit?" He asked, his attitude torn between polite and uncomfortable. Fred got the feeling that Arne was feeling pretty superior, seeing now that he was the only one of age. "You're quite the joker, I take it."

"My brother and I are entering with an aging potion," he explained quickly, unsure of why he felt so defensive about this. Who was this guy, anyway? Arne couldn't be that much older than him, and he sure wasn't coming off very mature with these little jabs. Through, he supposed that he, Fred Weasley, couldn't be too mature himself. "I'm all in for internal glory," he added honestly.

"..right."

Fred shifted his feet around and stood a little straighter, though Felicity and Kendall had lost their interest in his presence again.

"Well, I best let you lot get to class, eh?" Arne touched Felicity on the elbow lightly before he backed away, flashing them a smile as he left.

"What a guy," Fred mumbled in annoyance as he escaped earshot.

"What a man," Kendall corrected, nudging Felicity in the side and smiling brightly, "and he totally fancies you!”

Felicity was shaking her head now, stepping towards Fred in the direction of the charms classroom. Her cheeks were flushing into a bright shade of pink. “Like you would know," She shot at Kendall, "How is Sabrina anyway?"

Kendall sighed and looked dreamily off into the hallway where a group of the other Ravenclaw girls stood talking. The girl Fred figured to be Sabrina was a posh and stunning blonde, casting glances over her shoulder at them and whispering to the others behind her hand in a telling way. "It's complicated right now," Kendall's expression was conflicted, trying not to look offended by the girls' whispers. "See, she and I had a sleepover at mine over summer, and- hey, don't change the subject!" Kendall laughed and pointed an accusing finger at Felicity. "We're talking about your boy-toy for once."

Whatever the hell that meant, Fred wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"You're ridiculous," she answered, "It‘s not like that.”

”Oh, it so is 'City darling.” Kendall was grinning at her, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “His eyes were all over you.”

He couldn’t quite place why, but something about that thought made a pit of anger stir in Fred’s chest. He stayed quiet for a beat and let Felicity respond for herself,

"He can't fancy me, he hardly knows me yet."

"Ah, yet," Kendall said suspiciously. "So, you're going to see him again then?"

"Oh shove off, will you? Haven't you got to get to dark arts?"

Kendall rolled her eyes, waving her friend off with a still amused smile on her face. She turned back towards the stairwell with her ponytail bouncing over her shoulder, and the pair of them started quickly down the hallway.

"You're not going to get on me about him now, are you?" 

He looked down to see Felicity's blush beginning to fade, though she was eyeing Fred cautiously as they walked. 

"Er, no," he replied cooly. Why would he care?

Well.. did he? He was left feeling surprisingly irritated after that whole interaction, but that was just from Beck's self-righteous tone of voice. Felicity could bring about any guy that she liked-- though, come to think of it, had she actually been in a relationship before?

"Well, well- Sinclair and her Weasley."

Fred's twinge of aggravation quickly hardened into anger at the mere sight of Cassius Warrington. What was it, arsehole day? Although usually accompanied by his Slytherin crew, his stride was just as cocky as he marched up alone to the pair of them, hands placed casually in his robe pockets. "I'd ask which one you are, but I'm not sure I care enough to know."

Cassius had a spiky, deep brown haircut and a lean chaser's build. His Slytherin robes were neat and new, and he had an aura about him that stank of high self worth. Warrington always gave them shit, so Fred supposed that the new year could only mean more of the same. He said nothing and looked for Felicity's reaction, though she just continued headstrong towards the charms classroom. Cassius stepped right in front of her in an attempt to block her path, and she slowed.

"Do you want something?" She snapped, brows furrowing as she came to terms with this fated conversation. Fred tried to remember the last time he'd seen Cassius- he and George had managed a hex on his boots that caused him to stumble down certain (but not all) steps of the castle, which had been all fun and games until he'd broken his ankle walking down to the pitch for the final game of the season last year. Cassius stood now with his arms crossed over his chest and his lips formed a slight smile,

"Always quick to bite, aren't you?"

She only rolled her eyes and tried to get around, though yet again he stepped into her path. Fred's gaze darted from Cassius to Felicity, heat beginning to flood his face. She stood her ground dispite being much shorter than him, tipping up her chin to meet his eyes. "What'd you want, Warrington?"

"Well, see, there's no Quidditch, and the guys and I already had a bit of a bet on crushing Gryffindor at the first game." He shrugged and looked to Fred, "Figured you guys would be up to see who's sharpest this year."

"I couldn't give a shit," Felicity said roughly, eyes still locked on Cassius, "about playing against you lot. You're a git to play with anyway, always thudding into me."

Cassius had a smirk plastered across his face as he looked over Felicity with curious eyes. "You know, I like a girl with an attitude. Hard to remember you're a halfblood when you've gotten a chest like that over the summer."

Felicity's mouth opened to reply and, suddenly at a loss for words, nothing came out. She rolled her shoulders back uncomfortably, an uncharacteristic quiet taking over as she held her books tighter against herself. Fred felt his knuckles turning white, fists tightening with a sharp and fresh level of anger. He slipped his bag off of his shoulder and dumped it quickly to the floor, rounding on Cassius and seizing him by the emerald collar.

For the first time, Fred had felt much taller than any of his fellow classmates. He and George had heard earfuls of tall jokes from Lee all week, like 'how's the weather up there?' along with a suspicious amount of things he'd been asked for off of the top shelf of their dorm dresser. Now however, he was taking full advantage of the inches he had over the Slytherin.

"Just leave it," Felicity said hurriedly, though he wasn't really listening. He could see her beside him with a look of concern, but heart racing and muscles tensed he threatened the Cassius with his grip anyway. 

"What, gonna hit me?" He said unaffectedly, though Fred swore he could see that his eyes gave away a hint of fear. Fred knew that there was no real argument, and that Warrington was clearly trying to start the year with the detention scales tipped to his favor. Cassius could have the attitude of an aristocrat, and it often drove him to be angrier than he should be. "What's it to you Weasley- did I insult your bird?"

"She's not my-" Fred's other hand met Cassius' robes, meeting him with a rough pull as he spoke under his breath. "You don’t get to size her up like that."

"Leave it," Felicity restated, her voice stern. "It's fine. Just words.”

He waited a beat, scanning Cassius' face with subtle disgust before letting his collar slip from his fingers. Fred held his gaze as the boy tried his best to smooth down his ruffled robes.

"Good listener when it comes to Sinclair, huh?" he mocked, and when Fred opened his mouth to reply, Felicity put a hand out in front of him,

“He’s not worth it.”

Fred rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to cool his frustration. What had he been thinking, anyway? She was right, Warrington wasn’t worth it. He was almost positive he and George would be getting a detention at some point this week, and he didn’t need to add onto it over a petty fight. Fred passed the situation over, deciding to blame it all on the stress of classes returning.

"Save it for the pitch then." Cassius flashed a satisfied smile as he pushed past Fred, thumping him on the shoulder as he walked by.

Felicity had quickly left him to stand awkwardly, and she headed into the charms lecture without another word at all.

Notes:

Hey everyone thanks for reading after the late update :)
Had a vacation, graduation, and birthday this month, and while it's been great it's totally eaten my spare time lmao. Weekly updates to return here soon.

Chapter 9: Studying and Suspicion

Summary:

Felicity struggles with schoolwork and the distractions that come with it.

Notes:

Felicity's Perspective

September 23rd, 2994

 

The amount of homework a girl could be given within the first few weeks of classes ended up being much more than Felicity had originally anticipated. The free time she'd had outside of class had dwindled into practically nothing considering the amount of time she'd been spending in the library lately. Arne had asked her to hang out at least twice already, and neither time she'd been able to say yes. Ginny seemed to think she was putting it off, but sixth year was looking sure to kick her where it hurt, even without a boyfriend as a scholarly distraction.

The twins of course, had been of little help. George was always adding potion ingredients to their projects while she wasn't looking, which had been angering Professor Snape just about as much as Felicity herself. Fred had taken up the hobby of enchanting her charms notes, though he'd swear up and down that it wasn't actually him. It had been funny at first, coming across sentences like "the key to a drought charm is ensuring your thoughts are focused on Cassius' shriveled bullocks". The changes had been easy to switch back too, and even though she'd found the real key was imagining the water coming to a boil, she'd giggled madly when she'd been called on to perform the incantation in class. Now however, he'd started hexing her other class notes as well, going as far sometimes as to add a password charm so that she couldn't change them back without his help.

"You look awfully focused." Speak of the devil. Fred made his way over to her spot in the library, leaning against the table casually with his arms folded across his chest. "What're you working on?"

Felicity sighed, running her fingers through the roots of her hair and propping her elbows onto her open notebook. "Charms essay," she mumbled wearily, motioning to a half blank sheet of parchment to her right. 

"I take it it's going well?" He replied teasingly, gaze scanning the assortment of scattered textbooks and pages that cluttered the table. She groaned, partially out of boredom, but mostly frustration for her lack of success. She'd completed her transfiguration assignment earlier, along with the majority of her and George's potions checklist, but adding on a handwritten paper felt like the last straw when it came to today's energy. Fred chuckled, leaning over to grab the essay from beside her to give it a once-over.

"Don't see why you're complaining, s'great so far." He sounded sincere. "Haven't even started my own."

"You know, I'd be in a bit further if I knew how to disarm a magical trap correctly." She crossed her arms in front of her, resting her head into the makeshift pillow that was her sleeves. "I'm gonna have to stop letting you borrow my notes if you're not even going to use them."

Fred’s eyebrows raised, though he kept his eyes forward on her essay. "I use ‘em," he said simply.

"Ok, you don't read them, then," she shook her head in playful annoyance. "You hex them."

Fred tutted and slid her paper back onto the table, shrugging like he was trying to sway her from her accusation. "I would never." He pulled at the notebook from under Felicity's arms, and she lazily let her weight thump onto the table from the missing inch of composition. She watched his eyes run across the paper for a moment. "I dunno what you're on about, Sinclair. Says right here-" He pointed to a line of Felicity's neat handwriting,

Magical traps can be armed with various levels of risk or hazard unbeknownst to the approacher until further investigated. If unaware of the trap's detonation, perform a submissive dance for the object to reveal itself. 

"Well that's kind of freaky, innit?" Fred stated suggestively, ignoring her deadpan expression with bright eyes and that stupid Fred Weasley smirk on his lips. "You suppose it's got to be, like, a lap dance, or..?" He had taken his wand from his pocket and was spinning it with his fingers. "I feel like that would have to be bloody awkward."

Felicity looked up at him with a tired gaze, and as this was the third line of notes in a row she’d needed to see, she felt at the end of her rope.

"Weasley, please?"

He slowed his wand, face softening with a look of understanding as he hesitated. "Password," he said with a sulk, clearly disappointed that she hadn't found the joke as clever as he had. The ink lines she'd written began to smear themselves, forging their way into their original state. "You didn't even try and guess that one." He frowned and turned quiet for a moment, as if to let her read.

"You still upset about Warrington or something?"

She lifted her head and pulled her eyes from her newly revealed notes, furrowing her brows at him. "That was over a week ago," she said slowly, as if she hadn't been thinking about how quickly Fred had gotten on him over a single comment every time she passed the Slytherin in the halls. "And I told you, s'just words."

"I just wondered," he said, putting his hands up in defense. "Cause it feels like you've been pretty, er.. Quiet lately." 

"I've been studying."

Her tone came out much sharper than she'd meant it, and Fred poked his tongue into the side of his cheek as he looked around awkwardly. Felicity sighed and shook her head. If she was being honest, well, it had felt weird. He'd snapped so quickly on Cassius, and it had completely taken her off her guard. Fred got himself into plenty of fights at school-- George too-- but they were usually over rude family remarks or jabs at themselves, not her. They were never on her. 

"Sorry, I- I think I'm just stressing over classes."

Fred smiled politely, unoffended. He always let her off the hook.

"You could join me," she added, motioning to the seat beside her. "I'll help you start your charms essay, if you want."

"Nah, it's not due for another couple of days. Kendall's been looking for you, though.” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, as if nervous to continue. “Something about a dark arts project..?"

She'd forgotten all about that. Well, fuck- another thing to add on to her list. She let out a breath, 

“Right, of course.”

"I was only coming in here to get you for dinner," he stated quickly, straightening up from his spot against the table and turning to face her. Felicity opened her mouth to reply, but Fred had already started closing all of the textbooks she'd laid out like he'd somehow known her response in advance. "Think you've done enough for today anyways," he said with a half smile, picking up Achievements in Charming and Quintessence: A Quest and heading towards the charm's shelves before she could protest. 

Felicity suddenly felt almost guilty as she watched him walk away, remembering that he'd also been asking her to hang around lately- and she hadn't really done so. She supposed she might actually need to take a break for herself, and catching up with he and George sounded exactly like what she should be doing.

-

"So, I was thinking we could do a sort of confringo and aguamenti duel- cause they'll cancel each other out with some big cloud of smoke. Make it real showy for the class." Kendall was speaking excitedly, ignoring the generous serving of shepherd's pie growing cold on the plate in front of her.

"Yeah, ok," Felicity replied dryly as she took a sip of pumpkin juice. To her right, she heard Angelina chuckle under her breath, but Kendall went on,

"And I've heard loads of the others talking about doing hex-deflection, so I reckon we should stay away from that for creativity points. But I know you're really good at those, so... Oh! And Lee was saying-"

"Merlin, Callahan, talk her to death why don't you." George was giving her a jokingly disturbed look, his brows raised in exasperation. Kendall pursed her lips together, widening her eyes before looking down at her neglected dinner. She loved dark arts, and she'd taken to dueling quite fondly as soon as Professor Moody had brought it up. They were allowed to do anything for their project, except cast the unforgivables, which Kendall had also dove straight into learning the history on.

"S'alright," Felicity shook her head, setting her glass back down on the table. "But yeah, let's talk about like. Anything else." There was a collective laugh, which included Kendall. "I've had my share of studying shit for the day." Felicity thought the shepherd's pie was especially great this evening, but it could've been since she'd barely remembered to eat between classes and her headache stay in the library. 

"What about Warrington?" George offered up brightly, looking towards his brother beside him with suspicion. Fred stopped chewing mid bite and shot him a sideways glance, his face subtly screwing up with distaste at the mention of his name. George shrugged innocently, surveying the great hall for the Slytherin in question.

Felicity looked too, finding Cassius standing near the other end of the Gryffindor table behind a spiteful looking Draco Malfoy. The pair of them were involved in a stern conversation with Harry, Ron and Hermione, all of whom returned the sour looks towards the Slytherins. "Heard he got himself into a tough spot the other day," George continued slowly.

"Ah, when does he not," Fred defended, though Felicity wasn't sure anyone else knew much about their encounter seeing as no one there had brought it up yet. She was actually quite embarrassed it had even happened, and she'd been hoping that it wouldn't evolve into a bigger rumor than it needed to be. However, with Cassius being the natural storyteller he was, she'd already been checked in on by a handful of her friends from other houses ("did he really try and touch you? Did anyone else see?"). She guessed he'd been sheepish enough to leave out the part where Fred had him practically up on his toes and hanging by his collar. 

Draco and Cassius turned from the trio and strutted themselves down the length of the Gryffindor table, sending upturned glares at them all as they passed. "What's their deal, anyway?" Angelina asked, sounding unmoved. "Don't suppose he's still mad about his bloody ankle?"

"He's probably just missing poor daddy Lucius." Ron had made his way over to stand behind his brothers, and was looking rather disturbed. "What's this rubbish about Slytherin wanting a quidditch match against you lot?" Neither Angelina or Kendall seemed confused by this, and Felicity was relieved that she wouldn't have to explain.

Ron nodded his head at Harry as he approached, whose arms were crossed against his chest. Hermione came behind them, her stare fixed on the boys until they'd exited the great hall.

"Tell you that too, did they?" Fred noted, dropping his fork to his plate probably a bit louder than he'd meant to. "Said the same to us the other day, before.." his gaze met Felicity's for a moment, and she felt herself flush red. She picked up her glass again awkwardly.

"Well, you've got do it then!" Ron said with such enthusiasm that a few student's heads turned to look his way. "Show 'em up a bit- knock them down a peg or two."

"Even if they wanted to," Hermione had only just begun her sentence when Ron rolled his eyes dramatically, "you can't use the pitch this term. Dumbledore said that-"

"Oh, bloody hell- who cares!" Ron exclaimed, shaking his head and turning to face Hermione. "This is Malfoy we're talking about. And it's not like Harry won't get the snitch first anyway."

Harry muttered a 'thanks mate', under his breath, and the twins nodded thoughtfully at their brother's remark. Felicity considered this too, seeing as Harry was a much better seeker than Draco (and she didn't mind the idea of making Cassius eat his words), but it did seem a bit odd for the Slytherins to want a match this badly. There was no way all of these attempts at luring them in were all for some stupid bet.

"You don't suppose there's something.. else they're after?" Felicity asked hesitantly, scanning the group’s faces for a reaction. 

Kendall tipped her head, "I mean, with an arsehole like Cassius, it’s possible. Did he say what is was they bet with?"

The twins shrugged. "Money?" Fred said blatantly, and George nodded in agreement with his mouth full of potatoes.

"They're just bored with the fact that they can't join the tournament," he added, and he and George shared a look of knowing that screamed they had already been up to something.

Hermione's nose was wrinkling up as she mulled all this over, probably giving it more thought than anyone who would actually have to be involved in the game. "Maybe that, but the money's nothing. They've all got their family incomes." Felicity couldn't tell if she was warming up to the idea, or still trying to convince them to swear they wouldn't do it.

Angelina bit her lip, sharing a look of doubt with Felicity. They were right; it did feel a bit dodgy. The lineup of pureblood wankers that was the Slytherin quidditch team had more money altogether than Gringotts would be able to hold onto.

So, what was their angle?

"That's exactly why you've got to play them," Ron affirmed, his voice serious like he was planning on joining the team just to square up for this match alone. "Don't you want to know what they're up to? What it is they want?"

Felicity looked cautiously over to Fred, whose eyes had darkened. At least she didn’t have to debate with herself on whether or not he was still upset with Cassius. 

Now she could worry because she knew he was.

Notes:

Early chapter in honor of it being September first :) Hope you guys have a great first week of lessons!

Chapter 10: The Hogshead Heist

Summary:

Reader spends the first few weeks of fall with Felicity.

Notes:

Felicity's Perspective

October 8th, 1994:

 

"And you're sure you want to do it?" Arne asked with genuine concern as he and Felicity made their way through the grounds. Despite the constant rain that had been showering down all week, this Saturday had been turning out to be relatively nice- crisp fall fresh air and a cold breeze, the perfect weather for a thick sweater and a walk around Hogwarts' outdoors. Though she'd sworn that all of the Durmstrang boys had already gotten an extensive castle tour, Arne had insisted on Felicity showing him her favorite spots around the school. They'd walked through the common room and the greenhouses already, and the two of them were heading towards an outdoor common area with a view of the Quidditch pitch.

"Well, we all think the idea's a bit shady," Felicity admitted, shrugging her shoulders and slipping her chilly hands into the excess sleeves of her sweater. "I mean, those guys are always trying to piss us off one way or another, but... yeah. I think we're going to play them. Once we've got a grip on our studies, at least." They trod on through the grass and underneath the stone archways that overlooked the overgrown path to the Village. 

"You're quite confident you can take them, sounds like. And I thought that quidditch had been cancelled," he said slowly, looking up to study the colorful stands of the pitch as they approached. Felicity nodded, pursing her lips unsurely,

"I can. It has." 

Arne squinted his eyes, glancing suspiciously from the field back to her. Felicity knew that Durmstrang was quite the strict institute, and she hadn't been sure just how much of that had rubbed off on him seeing as they'd only been out a few times. Arne wore an expression of concern that made Felicity figure he was about to go straight to his headmaster to rat the lot of them out. "Does that mean you'll need someone to keep watch?"

Her brows raised in pleasant surprise. "Er.. I mean yeah, probably. Probably a load of people, actually- Why?" She teased, nudging him on the arm playfully. "You're not planning on watching?"

"So, I'm invited then." He nodded thoughtfully, a taunting smile pulling at his lips. "I've been beginning to think you wouldn't want me there, the way you've been avoiding me."

"Oh, shuddup, I've not been avoiding you," she laughed, shaking her head. "I've been-"

"I know, I know." He reached for either of her hands and took them lightly in his own, tipping his head down to look at her. "You've been working real hard, and that's great." She watched as his deep brown eyes studied her face, stopping themselves at her lips. "Forgive me for staring," he said lowly. "It's just that I don't think I've met many women like you before." Geez, what a line.

"Like me?" Felicity asked with a chuckle, looking up at him through her brows. "How do you mean?"

"That you're headstrong about your passions, yet you stay so charming," he replied simply. "Many women in my country with interests like you end up looking like-"

"Monsieur Hagrid! You mustn't treat zem in such a way!" Their heads turned as Madame Maxine, the world's tallest headmistress, could be seen approaching from the direction of the village chasing Hagrid, who was a few steps in front of her. "Ze horses require a stern hand, not a gentle one."

"Like that," Arne whispered, leaning down to speak gently into her ear, and they laughed. It felt incredibly refreshing to spend some time outside of the stuffy library- and even time outside her own friend group. Arne had treated her with quite the gentleman act, opening doors and saying things like 'ladies first'. It was silly, and it felt dramatic, but there was something genuine about it all that made Felicity feel as though she were actually being seen as a mature and attractive girl. Arne was good at showing her that she could be exciting, and cared for, and wanted. 

Which was why she'd let him kiss her every time he'd gotten a second alone with her lately. His kisses had also made up for a wonderful distraction that pushed away not only the stress of school, but over her anxieties caused by her teasing friends who'd begged her to ask Cedric out. But that was over, and this was now, so she'd have to tell them about Arne.

Eventually.

As much as she’d grown on him, he still felt too new- too unreal. He was fun to be around, and he did make her feel seen. He was a good kisser, especially when her only previous comparison had been Luca Fletcher, a muggle boy she'd gone out with one summer (which had not lasted). Don't get her wrong, it was plenty nice. Satisfactory- it all felt a bit overhyped, if she were being honest.

But then again, she was only sixteen, and what did she need to know about her who was or wasn’t for her? Arne was handsome, and he was into her, and she supposed that's all that really mattered anyway. It was time to shut off the voice in her head and let herself have some fun.

-

"I'm so fucking excited," George rasped under his breath, fidgeting with a silver sickle turning it over and over in his hand. "How'd we forget to throw a beginning of term party? It's practically our calling." He slumped down and leaned himself forward onto the table, sighing dramatically. "Now we gotta wait till a holiday."

"Halloween is next week, you tosser," Lee mumbled through his mouthful of cereal. "Impatient, are we?"

She didn't speak up on it, but Felicity felt plenty impatient herself- she was practically aching for an excuse to get sloshed after the amount of work this past month of class had thrown at her. The twins, however, had easily won the most eager award, seeing as they'd basically assigned everyone a thing or two to pick up during today's Hogsmeade trip. Felicity had been tasked with finding some decorations, which had to have been the easiest job they'd given out. Angelina had been offended when they'd asked her to collect pranking supplies, but it had apparently been for good reason ("would you rather swipe the liquor, Miss underage?").

There was a high pitched screeching overhead that made the whole of the great hall's necks break, everyone watching as the mail began to arrive. A flock of what could've been the entire owlery flooded the room, the enchanted sky littered with fluffy shadows as they made their entrance.

Oh, and she knew one owl all too well. His huge, stocky build, his raging yellow eyes, his considerably great wings with feathers groomed and neatly trimmed. Jasper, her family's great horned messenger, soared graceful as ever over the hundreds of students' heads, a pressed note of parchment in his talons. She waited with a sudden onset anxiety for it to fall into her lap, looking around at the others as they received their Daily Profits and parcels from home.

"Aw, mum's said Charlie might be able to meet us at the first task!" George exclaimed from two seats down, his face turned out but his eyes still reading. Fred crammed himself over his brother's shoulder to read the note from his mother. In front of her, Angelina was unraveling a small brown box marked 'Open October 24th'. Lee shot her a judgmental glance from over his newspaper, to which she replied,

"What? It's my gift- I can open it a few days early."

Felicity noticed that her letter looked much less full of home than those of her friends as it flopped onto the table, the only things on the envelope being her name (written in a sensible cursive) and her father's notorious wax seal, which showed no sign of dripping or mismanagement. At least the parchment hadn't been red. 

"Who wrote to you, 'City?" Angelina asked, clearly interested, but not enough to look up from studying her gorgeous new cashmere blouse. 

"Ah, just home," Felicity said simply, placing the letter in her lap, debating whether or not to take it to the common room to read when she was alone. She reached across the table, avoiding the scattered wrappings and ties as she picked up another piece of toast to butter. 

"Daddy's got neat handwriting," Fred mocked, looking down at the letter where it sat on her thighs. Felicity just rolled her eyes and bit into her breakfast.

"He always does," she replied, dusting crumbs from her hands and deciding it might be best to just rip the bandage off.  

Felicity,

Your mother and I have received word that the Triwizard tournament will be hosted at your school this year. These games will not be an excuse for your absence over the fall break, especially after considering your invasion of privacy in my study upon your departure. You will return home later this month, and you will stay as we believe fit.

R. C. Sinclair, Wizengamot Services, Department of Mysteries 

A disturbed, heavy sensation pierced her throat and sank through to her chest. She read it two times over, though there was no changing what the words had said. Fuck. Fuck, she was in so much shit the minute she walked back into that house. She had guessed that her father would notice her wand missing--considering she'd have gone to school without it otherwise-- but for him to see her taking it as a violation? An 'invasion of privacy'? She swallowed hard, urging her nerves to stop firing all these damn distress signals before her hands started to shake.

"What kind of guy signs his full name to his daughter?" 

She'd been so focused on the letter in front of her she'd completely blocked out the fact that Fred had tipped his head over her shoulder. He'd been trying to make the mood feel lighter- she was sure he must feel a bit awkward after putting his nose where it clearly didn't belong, but she'd still practically jumped at the sound of his voice near her ear. "What'd you do in his study, Sinclair?" He murmured, his eyes baring into her with mischievous curiosity. She felt her cheeks flush as she cleared her throat awkwardly,

"Nothing, er, like that. I just grabbed something." She quickly folded the parchment over twice and stuffed it back into the torn envelope. "Something of mine, mind you," she added. Fred eyed her partially taken aback, his brows knit together. 

"What's with the face?" Lee piped up, setting his Daily Profit down onto the table. "You look real serious."

Settle down, Felicity, it's just a fucking letter. She managed a breath,

"Oh, it's nothing, just.." Angelina and George had joined the 'stare at Felicity until she explains' party, which had only pushed her annoyance her further. "Oh, hell, calm down you lot. My father's just being a dick, it's old news," she shook her head. "Wants me to come home over break next week." She laid it out sharply and went back to her toast, hoping they'd drop it at that.

"But what about halloween?" George exclaimed immediately after she'd finished, throwing his arms up in defeat. "We're supposed to be throwing a rager." 

"Yeah, and my birthday too," Angelina added, though her tone was more sulking than it had been upset with her. Fred didn't say anything, only watched as she reached for the jam. "..Cant you bail?" Angelina asked hesitantly.

If she never wanted to come back, yeah she could bail- but missing a halloween tower party was currently the least of her concerns. Felicity distracted herself by continuing to smear the knife around her bread long after the jam was evened out. She'd be in enough trouble as it was. "I dunno, Ang, I'm sorry. Father's still a bit upset with me for sneaking out." She could all but feel Fred's gaze burning into her at this point, but she didn't want to make it any more awkward than she already might've.

"I'll think about it, alright?" She looked up and gave the table a nod of surrender, and her friends seemed to accept this and move on.

-

"Finding everything you need alright, dear?"

"Yes, fine, thank you."

The elderly woman who ran the specialty store had been the kindest shopkeeper around in all of Felicity's years at school, besides maybe Mr. Olivander. Scrivenshaft usually had some sort of bitter attitude about him, and Augustus Hill had always offered her a bit too much help when it came to picking out new robes. It was Mrs. Bailey that owned Splitskeeping Specialties who was the most polite, however posh she came across. It was clear that she'd put a lot of care into her store, and was fighting age just to keep the homey feeling inside it alive.

Felicity had already picked out an assortment of false spiderwebs and fall streamers, and was currently eyeing an unnecessarily large count of pumpkins, thinking about the different ways she could enchant them. 

"Having some kind of party?" Mrs. Bailey asked with a raised eyebrow. Felicity laughed and shook her head,

"Oh, you know me Mrs. Bailey- I would never." The woman gave her a cheeky grin and sighed, coming over and pointing out a selection of disposable cups near the end-cap when the door swung open drastically. The pair of them whipped their heads around to see two out of breath ginger boys in the doorway, both looking flustered.

"Sinclair!" Fred said excitedly. "We were- uhm, hi Mrs. Bailey- something's come up, and er,"

"I'll take care of this," George interrupted, striding briskly over to her and the shopkeeper before grabbing ahold of what she'd picked out. "You go on with Fred." Mrs. Bailey and her exchanged equally skeptical looks before Felicity wearily handed over her wallet made her way to the shop's entrance. Why they were in such a hurry she had no idea, seeing as there was another hour before the train would begin heading back to the castle.

The second the cold air hit her nose and the door's bell chimed with its closing, Fred pocketed his hands and marched towards the pub. Felicity giggled at his stern expression and bounded after him,

"Care to explain the emergency?" She cocked her head to the side looking up at him. "Plan not going according to.. well, plan?"

"You know how Jake Rothwell's always working the Hogshead?" He asked, and she nodded. "Well, he's not this year. Little git graduated," he continued. She wasn't sure how he could call Jake both 'little' and 'graduated', but she nodded anyway.

"Don't tell me you forgot," Felicity laughed and shook her head, picturing the both of the twins standing awkwardly inside the run down pub. "Oh, and let me guess- you two went in there without ID, and they-"

"Oh, shuddup!" He backhanded her playfully across the shoulder. "...but uhm, yeah. Basically."

She was still trying to compose herself as they continued down the cobbled pathway, turning the corner towards the backend of the village. "What'd you expect me to do about it? I'm sixteen same as you." She could see the crooked Hogshead sign hanging from a block or so away.

"Yeah, but y'know, you're..." he stuck his tongue into the side of his cheek. "You're a girl," he continued, and Felicity's eyes widened with his explanation. "And the worker now, it's some poor single bloke, so we figured-"

"What?" She'd stopped in her tracks, grabbing Fred by the elbow to slow him as well. "You better not be asking me what I think you are," she said sternly, her brows lowered. "I'm not asking some old sap out for a couple of spare bottles." It didn’t matter that things with Arne wern’t too serious yet- some random barkeep would be incredibly awkward if a task.

At this, Fred shook his head quickly, putting a hand up that told her to stop speaking. "No, no, of course I'm not asking you that."

"Oh," Felicity said, feeling dumb. "Ok then."

Fred shrugged, "just go in there and flirt with him or something."

"Weasley!"

"C'mon, Sinclair!" He groaned, rolling his head back. "You don't have to do anything with the guy, just chat him up for a second. Look- I'll even go in there with you if you're feeling odd about it." He was looking at her pleadingly, though it was plain to see that he'd give it up if she'd told him to. Above all else, he was her friend, and if anything had proved that it was his threat to Warrington over some stupid boob comment. She sighed and rubbed a hand across her face in frustration.

"Fine. Yeah, ok."

That stupid smirk of his flashed across his face. "Don't sound so disappointed," he scoffed, throwing an arm around her shoulders and giving her a shake as he continued their walk. "You'll do fine."

She turned her head to look up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what you think I'm worried about?" She asked charmingly. "Doing well?"

Fred scratched the back of his head, reaching around her and pulling the pub's door open. "Er, I dunno." She’d been more hesitant considering that she wouldn’t even be at this party anymore, but if Fred was thinking that she couldn’t do it…

Felicity stepped inside, peering around a large wooden post towards the barkeep and letting out a quiet laugh. The man was a definitely older than her, maybe mid thirties, with sandy brown hair and thin arms. He had a tight stubble across his chin and upper lip, bright eyes and no such ring on his left hand. She pursed her lips together to ensure there was still smoothness from the gloss she'd put on earlier, slipped off her jacket and handed it to Fred. She took his coin holder from his pocket and slipped it quickly into her bra.

"What are you-?"

"Be quiet or do it yourself," she hissed, shooting him a glare that said 'you owe me', and pulled her shirt lower. With that, she left Fred to stand dumbfounded as she strode over to the counter, placing her fingertips against the edge of the wood.

The man turned, his hands busy with polishing a rocks glass. "Can I help you hun?"

"Well I hope so, Liam," Felicity answered coyly, tilting her head to the side to brief his name tag.

He chuckled, finishing the rim of the glass and throwing the towel over his shoulder while she took a seat. "Haven't seen you in here before," he started, reaching over and setting the glass down behind him. "You from around here..?"

"Charlotte," she filled in, letting her eyes fall from his own and scanning them across his wrinkled button up. "And I should be saying the same to you. I think I'd have remembered a face like yours." Up close, Liam had a few small scrapes around his jawline that looked to her to be shaving mishaps. His front right tooth was the slightest bit crooked, and he had very fair blue eyes that worked extremely well in granting him a pedophile appeal.

"How uhm- how old are you?" He asked quietly, eyes darting behind her as if to ensure no one else was nearby. Felicity blinked, tipping her chin down to look up at him through her brows.

"Old enough," she answered slyly.

He let out a breath, looking around the pub briefly before leaning onto the counter in front of her. "And what can I get for you, Miss Charlotte?" 

God, were all men this way? She parted her lips and exhaled softly,

"Well, my girlfriends and I are having this house party," she started, careful to swap her glances from his eyes to his lips every now and again. "We wanna get real good and drunk." She nodded slightly as she spoke, a misbehaving smile spread over her lips that let him paint himself a picture.

Liam grinned. "You know, we don't really sell bottles for takeaway, with the school being so close by and all." She didn't like what she was hearing, but it was clear that she still had the guy around her finger seeing as he was studying her so hard.

"Aw, that's a bummer," she pouted, propping her head up with her hands and leaning forward. "No exceptions I take it?"

Liam shook his head, and Felicity watched in amusement as his eyes fought the urge to look right down her shirt. "Liam, now don't make me beg," she added, internally wanting to burst with laughter, but she kept her voice to a sultry whisper. "Cause I will, if I have to."

The barkeep's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, running a hand through his hair. "What erm. I mean, how much are we talking here?" He said nervously, and she watched him shift his stance. "Maybe I can let you off with three or four, if you keep to yourself about it."

"Ugh, you're my hero," she joked, prodding him on the shoulder. "And don't you worry- some things," she bit her bottom lip briefly, "I can be real quiet about."

Liam's pale cheeks flushed, turning quickly to collect a few things from the liquor shelf before bagging them up in a less than subtle plastic bag. She let herself look around the pub, satisfied with performance, but damn did it smell in there. The cheap leather of the seats was cracked and peeling, the floorboards littered with mysterious dark spotted stains. It looked like somewhere her father would wobble out of at two in the morning.

Fred had decided to return to her side, and she could only hope that he hadn't heard the whole of that interaction as she'd felt embarrassed by it enough. Liam set the bag down in front of her, watching with parted lips as she pulled the wallet from her shirt and put the change onto the counter. She then stood quickly and grabbed the bag, looking over to Fred and motioning for him to clear off, but his gaze held hers with what she swore looked like solidarity. His eyes shifted to Liam, giving him an uneasy once-over. Had he not just begged her for this whole exchange?

"Uhm, and who's this?" Liam returned the cautious look to Fred, then to Felicity's jacket in his hands. "Are you two..?" 

"Oh, don't be silly!" Felicity waved a hand at him, dismissing his train of thought. "This is my best friend," she beamed at Fred, who was still studying her face curiously with a small smile. His eyes fell to the bag of liquor in her grasp, and she quickly remembered how pathetic she must be coming across to anyone besides the bloke behind the bar- herself included. "He's gay," she added flatly.

Fred's mouth fell open, forming what she was sure would've been a score of denial and cuss words, but he caught himself, shutting his jaw tightly and sighing through his nose. She smiled, satisfied with her retaliation as she thanked Liam again, and the two of them were on their way out.

She lost it as soon as the door had slammed shut behind them, hands on her chest as she shook with silent laughter. "Oi!" Fred stopped still in front of her, shaking his head. "What's so damn funny?" He sounded serious, but Felicity caught a glimpse of his face as she stood herself straighter, and he wore a grin through his exasperation. He tossed her jacket back to her and folded his arms over his chest, amusement in his eyes as he watched her laugh. She heard him let out a chuckle himself, "You're laughing 'cause I'm gay now, s'that it?"

Notes:

Hi just a note neither character is being written as homophobic, they’re just messing around :D