"Y/N come on!" Ron pleaded. "It's one assignment!"
You, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George are all sitting around the Gryffindor common room doing various activities. Translation: 6 out of 7 of the group are doing homework, and Ron was trying to get you to do his potions essay for him.
"Just because Hermione used to do some of your work doesn't mean I'll take her place, Ronald," you said, emphasizing his name. "Besides, if I do it you don't get to pick out of the treats trunk."
"Yes but my darling Y/N, if you do it for him then we get more to pick from in the treats trunk," Fred said smiling, walking over to your place on the couch. He sat down on the floor in front of you and leaned his head back so it was on your lap looking up at you.
"May I help you?" you grinned, bending down to give your boyfriend a quick kiss.
"I finished my Transfiguration homework. Treat please!"
You set down your quill and potions essay you were working on to open up the treats trunk for Fred. The treats trunk was a system you had worked out after your first year of Hogwarts when you realized your friend group, particularly the boys, had trouble pushing homework off til the last minute and begging you and Hermione for help. It was something you felt like you had done before, even though you know you hadn't, but it made you that much more sure it would work.
The idea was simple: you created a chart with everyone's names, assignments, and due dates. Whenever someone finished a homework assignment at least two days before it's due, they got to pick any piece of candy, chocolate, butter beer, or a little trinket of their choice. If they finished all of their assignments for the week before you did, you bought them anything they wanted (reasonably priced) during the next Hogsmeade trip. This last part didn't happen often, and when it did, it was mostly Ginny cashing it in. You and Hermione were pretty in sync, and when she did finish before you she didn't feel the need to be bought something. She always took you up on the sweets though.
Another part of the system that kept it working was your timer system. The time system was implanted after the countless groans and moans escaped from the boys' lips. You all would work for one hour, then have a fifteen minute break. They didn't have to stop after the hour, but the break was always fifteen no matter how much longer they worked. This was the 4th year the seven of you were doing this to get your school work done, and the last year the twins would be participating.
Behind you, you heard the all too familiar thunk of someone getting hit upside the head.
"Hey!" Ron shouted.
"That's what you get for trying to look at Y/N's essay!" Ginny echoed.
"Y/N always gets everything right on the first try no matter what class we're in, really I'm just trying to even the playing field."
"Would you two quit it! I'm making the biggest decision of my life here," Fred joked. "Can I put
you in the treat trunk and choose you?"
You smiled and moved in front of him to lay across the opened trunk.
"A Y/N! My favorite prize," he grinned.
Fred's hand reached behind your neck, pulling you closer for a kiss. You got off from the trunk and onto your knees, leveling yourself to his crouched form.
Suddenly it was raining Bertie Bott's Beans. Harry and Ron were tossing them at you two whilst gagging.
"Ginny hex them! Make it stop!" Harry yelled.
You pulled away laughing, plopping a few jelly beans into your mouth.
The night went on, and an hour later Ron finally finished his potions essay, earning himself a chocolate frog.
"Honestly I don't know why she wouldn't help
me," Ron said to Harry. "I could've written the same essay as her word for word and she still would've gotten a better grade than me. Snape hates every Gryffindor but her!"
YOU ARE READING
Time After Time
FanfictionY/N is dating Fred Weasley. She started Hogwarts at the same time as her friends Harry, Hermione, and Ron. The only thing? She keeps getting dreams about living another life. The thing about that? Said other life is in the 70s. With people that are...
