While Fred was considered the more abrasive, spontaneous twin between him and George, he had his moments of calm and worry.

For instance, when you have come down with the flu.

"Alright, love, we've got four teas to choose from. I suggest the chamomile, but which would you like?"

Fred hummed softly as he crouched down beside you, your body laying in his bed. He held up a sleek glass container filled with all the tea the Burrow had in stock, each labeled accordingly.

His free hand came up to caress the side of your neck, simultaneously checking the wet rag he had placed on your forehead.