inertia || a Fred Weasley love story

forty.

"Do you think she'd let Diana borrow them?" Ginny asked as I looked back at the mirror. I slid a foot out from under the dress.

"I dunno. Maybe." Ron said.

"No, you know what-" I announced, spinning on the ball of my foot, "I know exactly what shoes I'm going to wear."

It took very little convincing on George's part, but by the time we were leaving for Peaches' house, the shoes I wanted to wear were snug on my feet.

"Ready to go?" Bill was asking us as George and I clambered down the stairs.

"Almost." Fred was saying, and I watched with a stifled grin as he rummaged through the box of shoes by the door. "I just- I can't- have you guys seen my trainers?"

"Yup." George said. Bill glanced over at us, and did a double take when he noticed where Fred's shoes actually were. He snorted a little, which caused Fred to look up at us. I blinked at him innocently.

"Sorry, I just thought they really went with my outfit."

Fred paused, and it was almost as if I could see him processing the fact that George had shrunk his red sneakers to fit my feet. He'd added a little glitter, as well, and they sparkled as I presented the shoes to Fred. As I did so, he grasped at my ankle, and I shrieked as he lifted it higher than I'd expected. I had to hop a little to keep upright as he brought the shoe close to his face, studying the thing. He hummed thoughtfully, and then peered up at me from beneath his bangs. He dropped the shoe, and stood abruptly, clasping his hands behind his back and circling me slowly.

"We don't have time for this." Bill announced, but Fred shushed him with a finger. He stood back after completing his circle, grasping at his chin, surveying my look. I stood resolutely under his gaze, back straight and hands behind my back, as if awaiting approval. Fred glanced over at George, and then back at me again, and then back at George.

"Well, if you get my shoes, what am I supposed to wear?"

And so George presented what Fred was supposed to wear.

"What the fuck is Fred wearing?" Was the first thing Juliet hissed in my ear when we apparated into Peaches' front hall. The Pertinger home was big- not a mansion, but something close enough. The inside was all white walls and marble floors and smelled vaguely of cinnamon and lavender. I had always liked coming to Peaches' house.

I pouted at Juliet. "You don't think it looks nice?"

"I didn't say that. It's just very-..." She peeked around me to look at Fred again, who had wandered off with George to survey the drink options on the table in the next room. "-Bold."

"What is Fred Weasley if not bold?" I said in a wise tone. Juliet regarded me for a moment, and then narrowed her eyes.

"You put him up to this."

"I think he looks nice!"

"He does- I mean, well. Yeah. He looks very... Your type."

"What's that supposed to mean?
"Nothing bad."

"Hiya ladies!" Peaches suddenly bounded into the small entryway. She was decked all in pastel pinks, glittering from head to toe. Her curls had been pulled out and fluffed up around her round face, which was already flushed from alcohol. She pushed cups into our hands. "What the fuck is Fred Weasley wearing?"

"That's what I said!" Juliet cried.

"I think he looks nice!" I told them both.

"Girls." Wilda announced, coming up behind Juliet. In one smooth movement she snagged the cup from Juliet's hand and downed the thing before saying- "What the fuck is Fred Weasley wearing?"