Hogsmeade weekends were meant to be peaceful. Cozy. Maybe a bit chaotic, if you were dating Fred WeasIey—but today had started off surprisingly normal.

You were standing just outside Zonko’s, waiting with your hands tucked into your coat pockets. Fred had ducked into the shop for a minute to pick up whatever chaotic nonsense he and George had pre-ordered.

That’s when you felt it—someone watching.

A Durmstrang student—tall, fur-lined coat, smug face—was standing across the street, blatantly staring at you like you were the most interesting thing he’d seen all day.

You shifted uncomfortably, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The bells above Zonko’s jingled as the door swung open behind you. Fred stepped out, brown paper bag in one hand, a lopsided grin on his face—and then he saw it.

Saw him.

His smile dropped.

You opened your mouth to greet him, but Fred didn’t even blink. He walked straight past you, tossed the bag into your hands, and barked.

Loud.

Short.

Sharp.

Like an actual bloody dog.

The Durmstrang guy flinched hard—nearly tripped over his own feet. A few people nearby turned their heads, startled. A third year dropped their bag.

Then Fred turned back to you, completely pleased with himself.

You blinked at him. “Did you just—”

“Yep,” he said, completely unbothered, sliding an arm around your waist. “That’s my girl he was staring at.”

You gaped at him. “Fred, you barked.”

He shrugged, like that made perfect sense. “Had to assert dominance.”

You nearly choked. “You’re not a bloody Rottweiler!”

“He was looking at you like he wanted to steal you,” Fred said, voice light but his jaw a little tight. “So I reminded him I bite.”

The Durmstrang student was long gone now, dragging his friend into the nearest shop. Probably rethinking every life choice that led him to that moment.

You looked up at Fred, equal parts mortified and stupidly flattered. “You’re completely insane.”

He grinned and kissed your cheek. “And yet, you’re still here.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

He gave your side a playful squeeze. “Next time, I growl.”

“Please don’t.”

He smirked. “No promises.”