You and Fred had been close since you were young—practically inseparable. Summers were spent at the Burrow, with his parents watching over you when yours were busy. It felt natural, almost inevitable, that you’d grow so close. Everyone saw it coming before either of you did.

When school started, you spent most of your time with him and George, getting swept up in their mischief and bailing them out of trouble more times than you could count. The bond between you and Fred was strong—unshakable—and no one was surprised when feelings started to develop. Except, of course, you and Fred.

You both fell quietly, secretly, too scared to say anything and risk ruining what you had. The fear of losing each other outweighed the hope that maybe, just maybe, the feelings were mutual.

So, the so of you dated other people now and then. Nothing serious. It never lasted. Every partner eventually grew tired of your closeness with each other . The jealousy always crept in. They’d demand distance, ask you to choose—and you always did. You always chose Fred and he always chose you.

Recently, Fred had started dating Angelina. It had only been a few weeks, but things were already strained. What no one knew—not even you—was that Fred had only agreed to go out with her to try and get over you. It hadn’t worked. It never did. He was in love with you, and nothing he tried could change that.

Angelina wasn’t mean—she was perfectly nice, really—but she was jealous. Possessive, even. She didn’t like sharing Fred’s attention, and she made that clear more and more with each passing day. Fred was getting tired of it—of the pouting, the whining, the way she tried to monopolize his time. So tonight, he needed space. He made plans with you, George, Ron, Harry, and Hermione. No girlfriends. Just friends.

The six of you sat in the Gryffindor common room, playing Exploding Snap and laughing like old times. The fire flickered in the hearth, casting a warm glow across your faces. Fred had scooted closer to you, his thigh pressed lightly against yours. It wasn’t unusual—not for the two of you—but it still made your chest tighten just a little.

He nudged your side, whispering a joke that made you laugh. But the moment didn’t last.

Hermione’s smile faded as her eyes flicked toward the portrait hole. She leaned toward you, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Well, look who’s here to ruin the mood,” she murmured.

You followed her gaze and saw Angelina walking in with Katie Bell. A sigh passed through the group like a ripple.

“Wonderful,” Ron muttered under his breath.

Angelina walked over with a practiced smile, though it faltered just slightly when she saw how close you and Fred were sitting. She said nothing, choosing instead to ignore it. She slid onto the seat beside Fred—on the opposite side—and leaned in to kiss his cheek. You saw his posture stiffen.

“Hey, baby. Looks like you’re having fun,” she said sweetly, voice just a bit too bright, as Katie took the empty seat beside her.

Fred cleared his throat, forcing a smile.

“Yeah. I told you it was a friends night. We always have fun together.” His eyes briefly flicked to you, apologetic. He didn’t need to say anything—you could read it in his expression: “Sorry. I didn’t know she’d come.”

Angelina didn’t miss the look either. Her eyes narrowed just slightly in your direction before she masked it with a smile and turned back to Fred, looping her arm through his.

You smiled back politely, but in your chest, something twisted.

It was going to be a very long night if she didn't leave.