Unreal

Chp 97 When Restraint Feels Impossible

The dorm was empty when I stepped in—Luna's bed perfectly neat, my side exactly as I'd left it.

And then it hit me.

Fred's coming here.
Again.

Oh, no.

It's fine.
It's fine.
It's totally fine.

We're not—
We're gonna study.
Answer schoolwork.
Talk about... potion ingredients, probably.
Like two perfectly normal, non-flustered people.

Except my stomach was already doing that annoying fluttery thing, and my brain had decided to throw up flashing neon signs of his smile, his stupidly warm hands, and—Merlin help me—that forehead kiss earlier.

I dropped my bag on the bed like it was about to explode and bolted for my towel. "Quick half-bath," I muttered to myself, already heading for the bathroom. "Just to feel fresh. Just for me. Nothing to do with him. Absolutely nothing."

Lies.
Huge, ridiculous lies.

By the time I finished my bath, my hair was damp and my pulse had finally stopped trying to sprint out of my chest. I decided to wear my favorite shirt—something cozy and familiar—paired with loose trousers because there was no way I was dressing up for studying. That would be insane. Absolutely not happening.

I sat on my bed for a moment, staring at the pile of books. Maybe I should just... wait here until he knocks. But then what if he's already waiting? What if he thinks I'm late? What if he decides to wander off and I miss him entirely?

Ugh, fine. I'll just check. Casual check.

I slipped out of the dorm, down the steps, and through the Ravenclaw common room, pretending like my heart wasn't doing Olympic-level gymnastics.

And then I stepped out into the corridor—
Oh.

There he was.

Fred Weasley, leaning against the wall with his books under one arm, wearing his pajamas like it was the most natural thing in the world. His hair was a little messy, his grin lazy, and—Merlin's beard—why did he have to look so... like that?

I raised a hand in a small wave, trying to play it cool, while internally screaming in seventeen different languages.

The moment he spotted me, his grin widened and he pushed off the wall, striding over with that confident walk that should really be illegal.

"Finally," he teased as he reached me, eyes flicking over my still-damp hair. "What'd you do, fall asleep in the bath?"

"Maybe," I said, rolling my eyes even though my brain was short-circuiting.

He chuckled, holding the door open as we stepped back into the common room together, and my heart betrayed me with another round of somersaults.

•••••

The warm glow of the dorm's lamps cast soft shadows on the walls, cozy and inviting. Fred and I were plopped on my bed, textbooks scattered around us like a fortress of schoolwork. I tugged my shirt, its familiar weight a comforting hug in the quiet space.

"So," Fred said, flopping back on his elbows, eyes barely on the book in front of him. "Do we actually crack these open and study, or just talk about literally everything else?"

I smirked, nudging him with my shoulder. "Definitely the second. Who even remembers what a bezoar is for? Honestly, I'm starting to think it's just a fancy word for 'stuff you never need to know.'"

He laughed, rolling onto his side to face me. "I'm pretty sure it's the cure for some potion-related disaster, or maybe just something you eat when your stomach's angry."