The air inside Grimmauld Place felt heavier than usual—thick with grief, tension, and everything no one was saying out loud.

You hadn’t stopped moving all day.

Checking on Harry Potter. Making sure he ate. Trying—desperately trying—to be steady for him after losing Sirius Black. Balancing that with whispers of Lord Voldemort growing stronger, closer.

You were exhausted.

And then—

“Will you just stop?” Harry snapped.

The words hit sharper than any spell.

You froze mid-step, your hands tightening around the edge of the table. “Harry, I’m just trying to—”

“I don’t need you hovering over me every second!” he cut in, voice rising, raw and frayed. “I’m not a child!”

The room went silent.

It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it. Like everything you’d been doing, everything you’d been holding together, meant nothing.

Your throat tightened. “I know you’re not,” you said quietly. “I just… I thought—”

“Well, stop thinking you know what’s best for me.”

That did it.

You nodded once, a small, almost imperceptible movement. “Right. Got it.”

And before your voice could betray you, you turned and walked out.

You didn’t see the way the room shifted after you left.

But Fred Weasley did.

He’d been leaning against the wall the entire time, unusually still, unusually quiet. His usual grin? Gone.

Completely gone.

Fred pushed himself off the wall slowly, his gaze never leaving Harry.

“Oi,” he said, voice calm—too calm. “Walk with me.”

Harry, still riding the edge of anger, frowned but followed anyway.

The moment they were alone, Fred turned to face him fully.

“The next time you lose your cool with her,” he said evenly, “I suggest you find a different approach.”

Harry blinked, caught off guard by the tone more than the words. His eyebrow lifted slightly. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

Fred stepped closer—not aggressive, not loud.

But something in the air shifted.

Because Fred Weasley wasn’t smiling.

And his eyes?

They were deadly.

“Because if you don’t,” Fred continued, voice quiet but unyielding, “it’s gonna put me and you in a position where things will definitely go south.”

No raised voice. No wand drawn.

He didn’t need it.

Harry held his gaze for a second longer than he should’ve—then something flickered. Not fear exactly… but understanding.

Fred wasn’t joking.

Not this time.

A beat of silence passed.

Then Fred straightened slightly, the tension easing just a fraction—but not disappearing.

“She’s been holding you together,” he added, softer now, though the edge remained. “Don’t go breaking her in the process.”

And with that, he turned and walked away—already heading to find you.