Chapter 18

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Somehow, knowing what lay ahead in her future, Victoria made it through all her lessons on Friday, and quidditch practice too. She lay awake that night, despite her mind craving sleep, staring at the top of her four poster bed and wishing that she'd never thought about Tom Riddle, or asked Harry those questions.

And then she scolded herself, because if she hadn't done it, then who would? And what worthier cause than bringing meaning to the deaths of Cedric Diggory and Marlene McKinnon? They would want her to be happy, despite her newly formed plan. So, with that on her mind, a single thought popped into her head.

Fuck it.

On Saturday morning, she was up bright and early as always, putting on her usual light makeup and wearing her hair down for once. Today would not be a day of studying, so that meant it didn't have to be out the way.

She headed down to the common room alone, with Angelina and Alicia both only just stirring and crawling from their beds, excited but drowsy. She saw the usual first years gathered around the twins, and took a deep breath before stepping over to them, cloak in hand. "Fred?" she asked, brightly, her stomach fluttering a little. "Can I talk to you?"

He and George exchanged a glance. "Sure thing, Vicky," he said with a nod. They stepped over to the other sofas, ensuring they weren't overheard by gossip mongrels.

"Look," she said, and she saw him deflate ever-so-slightly, "I really don't want to mess you about, so I'll be blunt. I think I quite like you, and I would actually like to go to Hogsmeade with you." He didn't say anything, just looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face. "OK, never mind," she said, feeling a hot blush spread like wildfire across her cheeks. "I'll just...go."

"No!" said Fred quickly, and George looked over, brows raised. "No, I - that'd be - why'd you change your mind?"

Victoria shrugged. "Change of circumstances." she said.

Fred grinned. "You and your mysteries," he said with a wink. "I'll go and get my cloak?"

"Well, I was going to get a cup of tea first-" she began, her chest heaving with relief.

"I'll come too, I've not had breakfast," he said enthusiastically. He darted upstairs, being thumped by his brother as he passed, who waved her over.

"So," said George, crossing his arms. "Don't break his heart, or I'll tell your mum." A first year laughed. "And if he wants to show you his 'cool' belly-button, just say no." Victoria opened her mouth to question him further, but at that moment Fred bounded back into the common room, cheeks flushed pink and breathless.

"Ready?" he asked, taking her cloak from her to carry.

"Ready," said Victoria, with a wide and genuine smile.

*****

Victoria frowned at the two heavy volumes in her hands. She didn't need the muggle novel and the book on advanced healing charms. And besides, she didn't have time to read both, and revise, and train for quidditch.

Fred, who had been patiently flicking his eyes over the quidditch section, 'hmm'ed mockingly. She rolled her eyes at him, grinning. "Why don't you just get both?" he whispered as two third years entered Tomes and Scrolls.

"Because," said Victoria, "I don't need both. And you spent ages in Zonko's."

"Only the finest dungbombs for our favourite Defence professor," said Fred with a grin. "Get both," he suggested, picking a book about different broomsticks off the very top shelf. "You only live once." Victoria sighed. She supposed he was right...

But before she could make one last glance around the shop, Fred snatched both books from her hands and darted over to the counter with his own, placing three fat galleons on the surface. "Fred!" she hissed, smiling as he accepted the paper bag with the three books in it. "You shouldn't have done that," she said to him as they stepped outside, cloaks rippling in the wind as they passed all the shops they'd already been in.

"I didn't do it for free," he scoffed, looking bemused at the very thought. "Oh no, I require payment in the form of hand-holding and your company over a butterbeer or three."

Victoria pretend to think a minute as a grin spread over his freckled features. She swore, as she too smiled, that his happiness was bloody contagious. She sighed heavily. "I suppose," she said, taking his hand in hers. Like her own, it was calloused in places, worn from hours of holding a beater's bat. But the back of his hand was soft, and she regretted letting go as they sat next to each other, their shopping deposited on the spare chair and two mugs of warm butterbeer sloshing between them.

Talk came easily for the pair, about quidditch, and all the pranks he'd pulled over the years. She haughtily recalled one that involved turning her face blue for a day in third year, that her mother had been starkly unimpressed with. Soon, one butterbeer turned to three, as predicted, and their quiet-ish party for two was intruded by a crowd of other seventh years. Angelina and Alicia kept glancing over knowingly at Victoria, who aimed one or two kicks under the table at them, and Lee and George were less subtle in their merciless teasing, especially once Fred announced that he would like to walk Victoria back in peace. "Don't let mummy catch you!" called Angelina, earning herself another playful glare.

But Fred was tugging on her hand, still carrying her books and jelly slugs and his pile of dungbombs. Once there were out in the cool fresh air once more, Fred turned to her with a mischievous smile. "Now that we're alone again..." he said, before dipping down and placing a peck on her cheek. She smiled at the ground, her hair rippling around her face, before standing on her tip-toes to return it, still tightly holding his hand.

It wasn't long before they were in the castle grounds, and Victoria turned to him once more, beaming and the happiest she'd been in a very long time. "Thank you for today," she said quietly as a gaggle of fourth year Ravenclaw's swanned through the open doors. "I've had a great time."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Vicky," said Fred, glancing around before taking her hand and leading her around the corner. "Our date isn't over yet." She grinned at that word: date.

They jogged carefully over the grass until they reached the greenhouses, where they snuck past Sprout taking care of venomous tentacula. "Up there," he said, pointing at an alcove where the bricks had been chipped away to make a sort of climbing wall.

"Fred-" she protested as he stashed their things under a nearby hedge.

"Oh, where's your Gryffindor spirit?" he mocked. She let out a great squeal of laughter as he picked her up round her legs and pushed her up the wall, where she had no choice but to grip on and climb onto the flat roof. "Come on!" he hissed, taking her by the hand and darting across that roof to where it joined another, sloping one. "It's safe," he promised at her judgmental look. She nodded and clambered across, until they were confronted with a heavy wooden ladder that led all the way up the side of the divination tower.

"Up here?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. He nodded, grinning excitedly and she sighed, beginning to climb. "You just want to see up my robes!" she called down below her.

"You're in jeans!" Fred reminded her. "But I can't say I'd argue if you weren't!" Victoria grinned to herself, resisting the urge to kick her booted foot down at him.

Once they'd reached the top, Victoria was delighted to find that it wasn't a perfect cone shape, but rather had a lookout nook that could fit two people safely inside, maybe three at a squeeze. They had a perfect view of the lake and the forest from here, and she watched as a flock of geese darted across its surface.

"Beautiful," she whispered into the breeze, that whipped her hair.

"Thank you," said Fred, his voice next to her ear. "I could say the same about you." She felt as his hand found her waist once more and their lips met. And this time, she wasn't so mad about it.

Wisdom and Victory {Fred Weasley}Där berättelser lever. Upptäck nu