my best friends brother - fred weasley

lxiv. his fluffy hair

•pre-warning for smut/fluff, not essential to plot•

Waking up next to Fred everyday was something I'd never get tired of. The sun woke me up every morning in Shell Cottage, allowing me to admire the boy next to me as he slept. He'd never find out that each morning I'd place plaits in his hair out of boredom, hiding them between the shagginess that it had grown to since we left Diagon Alley months ago. I wished that he'd tell me the secret to how he kept it soft and fluffy, even during our little quest, but he'd always say it was a family secret and that I didn't need to know anyway. When I first spoke to him, almost 4 years ago, his hair was a dark red, almost auburn, but in the morning sunlight on the beach, it was a strawberry blonde colour. Every morning, as I weaved his hair into the pretty little plaits, I'd memorise and take note on how his hair felt, how it looked and how it smelt, as though I'd never be able to again.

"You're doing it again, are you?" He murmured with his eyes still closed. Our faces were inches apart with my arms wrapped around his shoulders so I could play with his hair.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I whispered back as softly as I could, trying to keep him asleep.

"Well, jokes on you. I like it." He smirked, wrapping his arms around me, squeezing tightly.

"I can't do it if you suffocate me!" I strain, dramatically gasping for air. Instead of backing down, he rolled on top of me and pretended to fall asleep again, in a starfish position. I was squished between his weight and the mattress. "Get off of me! You-." I squirmed from underneath, trying to find a way to escape. I finally pushed him off of me and gasped the deepest breath that I could.

"Wow, my girlfriend hates my hugs." He rolled to the side of the bed, his back facing me as he pretended to sulk, occasionally checking over his shoulder to see if I was reacting.

"That was not a hug!" I sat up, fixing my hair on top of my head. "That was... smothering me. Attempted murder." I said, pulling down the t-shirt I was wearing, which just so happened to be one of Fred's from his 4th year. It had a picture of a wizard band, Spellbound. As Fred flicked his eyes back over his shoulder, fishing for a reaction out of me, his eyes stopped on it.

"I-is that?" He said in horror, ditching his plan. "Oh my god, we have to alert the authorities!" He said in a much more serious tone than I was expecting, sending me into a slight panic.

"What? What is it!" I jumped up from the bed, landing on the floorboards to hide from the window, assuming that there was a DeathEater or something flying our way.

"I cannot believe I'm seeing this!" He continued making his way across the bed. He lifted his hand and placed it near the base of my neck, leaning on me slightly. "A bare shoulder." He said in mock-horror.

"Fred. I could kill you!" I yelled at him through gritted teeth, whacking him with the closest pillow I could grab.

"How does it feel? Being a slag with shoulders?" He dared to continue.

"You are dancing with the devil, my friend." I said in a warning tone, holding the pillow threateningly above my head. I had him pinned to the bed, my legs straddling him so he couldn't move. At least not easily. He was at least 6'3 and I was barely 5'4, which I was reminded of when he flipped me over in one swift movement. He now was hovering over me, pinning both my wrists against the stack of pillows on our bed with one hand, the other resting rather high on my thigh.

"I'd rather do much more than just dance with the devil." He said with a lopsided, strangely innocent, smile. I was too stunned to speak, still trying to process the manoeuvre he pulled mere seconds ago. "Gone shy, May?"