The newly opened Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley was impossible to ignore, everything one might expect from the Weasley twins.

She hadn’t planned to stop—not with her brothers, Mattheo and Tom Riddle striding ahead, their usual entourage of Slytherin elite in tow. Draco sneered at the display, and Pansy scoffed loudly about “childish Gryffindor nonsense,” while Lorenzo and Theo traded barbs about “pathetic blood traitors.” Blaise muttered something under his breath, and even Tom’s sharp smile curved with mockery.

And yet, she stopped.

She knew her brothers’ expectations but they didn’t see things the way she did.

She slipped away from the group. She didn’t care if they noticed.

Inside, the shop was pure mayhem—controlled chaos in the most spectacular way. She was barely through the door when she heard a familiar voice.

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t my favorite girl with a Riddle of a name.”

Fred was standing behind the counter, grinning widely. Their friendship—if one dared call it that—had been a surprise to everyone. Weasley and Riddle, laughter and logic, chaos and control. The contrasts were endless.

She rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Fred. Still as insufferable as ever, I see.”

“Insufferable? I’m wounded. Absolutely gutted. Tell me, love, who’s dragging you to a fine establishment like this one? Let me guess—Malfoy and his merry band of brooding gits?”

Fred leaned forward on the counter, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You know, I always said you were wasted on them.”