Unreal

Chp 100.5 Through the Pages

I nearly snorted pumpkin juice out my nose. "I can't believe this is my lunch conversation right now."

Fred grinned, like making me laugh was his sole mission in life. "You should be grateful, love. Some people eat in boring silence. You've got culinary politics and anti-nargle strategies."

Luna nodded solemnly, as if we'd just discussed something life-changing. "And dessert enhancement tips."

I was mid-sip of pumpkin juice, trying to hide my smile, when Fred's eyes lit up with that I'm about to do something stupid and I'm proud of it look.

"Alright," he said, spearing a forkful of potato like it had personally wronged him, "watch and learn."

Before I could even ask what he was on about, he popped the bite into his mouth... and started humming.

Loudly.

Off-key.

The kind of hum that vibrated through his whole face like he was trying to summon a whale.

I nearly choked on my drink. "Fred—no—"

The hum got more ridiculous, almost theatrical. He even raised his eyebrows at me like behold, your lunchtime entertainment.

Then, because karma is fast, his smug little tune cut off with a sharp cough. And another. And another. He went rigid, eyes watering, hand half-raised like wait—wait—don't panic— before doubling over in a wheezing fit.

"Fred!" I yelped, half-standing, shoving my goblet at him.

Luna, bless her, was perfectly calm—just leaned over and started patting his back like she was burping a nargle-infested crup.

Fred took the goblet in one hand, waving the other like I'm fine, I'm fine, but his coughs made it sound more like he was trying to ward off the Grim.

From further down the Gryffindor table, George's voice rang out, far too gleeful:
"Oi! You finally found a way to shut him up, Aeris? Teach me that spell!"

That did it. I lost it.

Fred managed a raspy, "Worth it," after finally gulping down half my drink, still red-faced and hair sticking up in every direction.

And then we were gone—Luna's shoulders shaking in her quiet, airy laugh, me snorting into my sleeve, and Fred grinning like he'd just won a war.

We laughed so hard our sides hurt, tears stung my eyes, and at some point I became aware of half the Great Hall staring like we'd completely lost our minds. Which, to be fair, we probably had.

••••

After that chaotic lunch break, I decided to just... go to class. Honestly, who in their right mind puts the boring subjects in the afternoon? I swear, if I ever become Minister for Magic, my first decree will be: no post-lunch lessons unless they involve explosions or naps.

I also noticed Harry wasn't looking too well. Sure, he looked fine on the outside, but deep down, I could definitely tell something was off. I wish he'd just believe me when I say that. But no—Boy Who Lived has to keep everything bottled up like a stubborn soda.

The rest of the afternoon was me fighting the urge to sleep and resisting the temptation to make Fred shut up in class. Merlin, that ginger never stops talking. I'm not complaining—he can talk all he wants, just not when I'm trying to look like I'm paying attention.

When the final bell rang, I trudged toward the courtyard where Cedric told me to meet him. The open corridors were drenched in soft golden light, the late afternoon sun slanting through the arched windows. A warm breeze swept through, carrying the faint scent of grass and parchment. My shoes clicked on the flagstones, the sound echoing lazily through the nearly empty hall.