Little Talks | Fred Weasley x Cedric Diggory

Eleven.

Cedric had told him that what he had said in the memory was a mistake, that he had regretted it.

Fred interpreted it differently now. He listened.

The next morning, at breakfast, he told George that he was ready to start working on their dream again. He explained why in the simplest and most concise way possible. The explanation didn't matter much to George anyway; it was the idea of being back in business with his twin that occupied his thoughts and wishes. That mattered so much more.

It was promised that they could start as soon as their schedules allowed. George was gleefully impatient as they suffered through their few classes. His face was never painted with a blank expression. There was a perpetual smile there, whether it was the full thing or it was simply the corner of his mouth twitched up into a playful smirk. Nothing could contain his enthusiasm, nor his joy and his pride. This meant more than just working together again. It was another milestone altogether. George knew that Fred approaching him with this proposition meant that Fred was finally starting to return to how he was before. And this time, he was confident it would last.

They found their positions, naturally, up in the dormitory. George had brought out all the products and other essentials he had stowed away at the beginning of the school year. He had previously packed them with the hope that this day would come, that there would be an opportunity for all of it to be put to use again. Now, the pair were surrounded by a circle of bright orange and purple boxes, with a small stack of order forms placed beside them.

"What are these?"

"New orders, from today. I grabbed them right after you told me you were ready to start again and passed them around to everyone. These are all the ones I got back after classes.'

Fred's eyes widened as he grabbed the stack and started flicking through. The height of the pile impressed him beyond words; there had to be just around fifty. All from one day. He saw names he recognized: Lee Jordan, Seamus Finnigan, even Katie Bell, whom he had yet to fully apologize to. There were plenty of others whom he couldn't recall or whom he had never met.

"You're kidding, right?"

"I am not. Seems like people are just as excited as we are."

It was then that the pride showed most obviously in George's face. Their classmates were calling out to them, rejoicing in their grand return. They hadn't forgotten, as Fred had worried they might. This all meant something to more than just himself and his brother.

They were part of something huge.

And Fred knew just how much that meant to Cedric.

He grabbed that first order form, the one that came from Lee. In a turn of events that would shock absolutely no one, their mutual best friend had ordered a Skiving Snackbox. Fred shifted over to investigate the various boxes George had laid out, searching for the right one. Each was labeled with handwriting that looks similar to his; he had to look at about five before finding the one that contained what he was looking for.

The Skiving Snackbox had been their pride and joy when it was first imagined and it had remained so throughout all of their other inventions. The versatility of that product would be considered legendary by any who sought to purchase it. Nothing else in the world made it so easy to avoid going to boring classes.

As he sifted through the different compartments, one with Fever Fudge and another containing Fainting Fancies, a quiet laugh escaped his lips. It occurred to him how helpful these may have been to him in these past months. If mourning the death of your boyfriend wasn't a valid enough reason to escape class, projectile vomiting surely would have been.