ᴄᴏʀᴅᴜʀᴏʏ (fred weasley)

ᴘʀᴏᴅɪɢɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴍɪꜱᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛɪᴏɴ

The next thing she remembered was waking up, noticing the unfamiliar quilts surrounding her.

~*~

Lyra let out a shriek, jumping and tumbling out of the bed. She took the quilt with her, covering her body with it as she wore the same dress from the party. The boy sat up with a shock, serving a disturbed look at the blonde.

"What the fuck are you doing in my bed!?" She cried out, a wave of guilt flooding over her, a downfall of worry sickening her to the core.

"You're bed? Get out of my... wait, who's bed is this?" He joked, but she scolded him.

"George, what the fuck happened! Surely not!"

The door clicked, a whistling, bright eyed boy entering with a tray of breakfast.

"Morning!" Lee smiled, chirpily floating around the deck. George and Lyra both shared the exact same expression. "What's wrong with you two? Pick your jaws up from the floor, merlin!"

"For fuck sake, Lee! I thought you could tell me and Fred apart!" George's eyebrows furrowed, as Lee placed the tray on the foot of the bed, before covering his mouth, laughing into his palms.

"You where all passed out! I was drunk too, I just chucked anyone in any bed, you and Fred look the same! I couldn't exactly function, that liquor is strong shit, man!"

Lyra pushed Lee back, before picking up a pillow and launching it at him. He held up his arms in defence.

"Where's Fred?"

"WHERE'S FRED?"

Lee shrugged, as Lyra stormed out of the room.

She expected the worst, pinning her hope on the idea that she wasn't about to see her with him.

She pushed open the first door, Ginny and Harry shouting at Lyra for invading.

"Sorry!" She flashed a smile, slamming the door and progressing down the hallway.

She kicked open the next door, her stomach collapsing. But she soon realised, she began chuckling to herself.

"Should I be worried?" She joked, as the two boys stirred into consciousness. Fred and Ron looked at her, and in sync, at one another, screaming in each others faces. Lyra fell against the doorframe, her stomach in stitches.

"Wha, who, how?!" Ron's eyes and mouth where both wide, O shaped.

"Lee, he put everyone to bed. But he was pissed, too. This was his attempt, I suppose."

"Wait. Who'd he put you with?" Fred turned serious, and Lyra pointed with by tilting her head to the corridor. She couldn't lie to him, but surely, it wasn't her fault. She and George where obviously platonic, it was all a prodigious misconception.

Fred closed the door on Ron, his hair messy and fallen across his face. "I don't think your gonna like this, but I swear, nothing happened. I must've slept solid all night, you know I'd never do anything of the sort with him. You have to believe me" Lyra didn't even take a breath, Fred looked around the hall, placing two hands on her shoulders. "Just, tell me" He smiled.

"George."

Fred tensed, biting the side of his lower lip

"It's okay." She sighed, relieved, puffing out.

"I trust you, it's just Lee's lack of judgment."

Lyra paused, running her hand down her face, she felt a sting, it was bruised. "What exactly happened last night?" Fred scoffed, looking her up and down.

"You don't remember... anything?"

"I remember feeling anger, like, never before. I also remember lots of liquor, actually, I remember wanting to drop kick Angelina the second she entered the building." Fred sniggered, her head fell against his chest. "Oh god, how much did I make a fool of myself last night, be brutal."

"To be honest, it was kinda hot. And, Lyra Lovegood, since when could you dance?"

"Dance?" Lyra's face screwed up, cringing at the thought of how let loose she was the previous dusk.