Request: Hey! I love your writing! Could you maybe do a Fred Weasley imagine where the readers a Potter. Harry’s older sister, that looks exactly like lily. And maybe there an accident in class and everyone’s shocked that Snape doesn’t get upset. Maybe she’s a favorite and can basically can get away with everything. And she’s dating Fred of course.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
A/N: I had fun with this one. I hope you like it! :)
There were a few benefits to being a Potter.
It was extremely annoying most of the time, you admit, with your little brother being the “Chosen One”. Despite being the older, more attractive sibling, you were always “Harry Potter’s sister” or “the other Potter”. Of course, you love your brother, and it was in no way his fault, but throughout your entire life, you’ve hardly ever felt like your own person.
Fred Weasley was an exception. Your boyfriend of a few years now always made you feel incredibly special and always showed you off. He was always the one you went to whenever you were stressed about Harry getting himself into trouble again; he was a fantastic listener. He’d sit there and stroke your hair or draw shapes on your thigh with his fingers as you’d rant to him, and he always knew exactly how to cheer you up.
Another exception was Professor Snape. It shocked your fellow classmates how differently he treated you and your brother. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but sometimes he’d get this look on his face when you were around, like he was somewhere else, far away, instead of in his classroom.
It was no secret, either, that you were a carbon copy of your mother, just as Harry was with your father. Maybe it had something to do with that.
You sit in Potions one day, between Fred and George, as Snape explains that the class will be attempting to make Draught of Living Death.
Fred leans over, whispering in your ear, “Do you think we’d get in trouble if we slip Snape some to get out of class early?”
“Obviously, you wanker,” you whisper back, giggling a bit.
Snape’s head immediately snaps in your direction at the sound.
“Mr. Weasley, maybe if you gave as much of your attention to your work as you do to Miss Potter, you wouldn’t be failing this class. Ten points from Gryffindor.”
Fred’s jaw sets in annoyance, so you reach out under the table to take his hand, stroking your thumb across the back of it. You watch as he visibly relaxes, squeezing your hand.
You start working, cutting up the Sopophorous bean with careful precision. Snape walks past your table, eyeing your work.
“Try crushing it, not cutting,” he mumbles, so only you can hear. You glance back down at your Potions book, rereading the first step to see that it clearly says to cut the bean, but you decide to listen to Snape anyway.
“I don’t think you’re doing that right,” George says from your right, who is on to the second step, but he clearly isn’t bothering to read the instructions carefully.
“I’m trying something new,” you lie.
“It’s not fair,” Fred grumbles from your other side, “The only reason Snape hates me as much as he does is because I’m dating you. I reckon he’s jealous, that greasy-”
You jump at the sound of Snape’s voice behind you, the beaker that you had been holding slipping out of your grasp and shattering on the floor. You stare down in horror at the glass shards that surround your feet, and even worse, the room has gone completely silent, everyone waiting for Snape to absolutely lose it.
Much to everyone’s surprise - especially yours - Snape simply sighs, pulling out his wand and cleaning up the shards with a wave of it. You hesitantly look up to meet his eyes, but he’s glaring at Fred.
“Mr. Weasley, I’ll see you for detention later.”
“But, I have Quidditch practice-” Fred begins to protest, but Snape holds up his hand to stop him.
“You should’ve thought about that before you decided to run your mouth. As for you, Miss Potter-”
You can practically feel all of your fellow classmates holding their breath along with you.
Snape’s gaze softens, and you wonder if anyone else can tell.
“Be more careful next time. And everyone else, back to work. Now.”
And with a swish of his robes, he walks away from your table.
You glance over at Fred as soon as Snape’s back is turned, whose eyes flash with anger and frustration. You lean over to him.
“Not all of us can be the favorite, y’know,” you tease.
“Ha, ha,” Fred replies sarcastically. You reach over to take his hand, squeezing it twice, and just like earlier, you see him ease up a bit. You’ve learned over the years that touch was quite special to Fred, especially in situations where he was angry, so you always made sure to hold his hand or touch his arm just to remind him that you were there and bring him back down a little.
“I’ll make it up to you later,” you say in a hushed voice, winking when Fred looks over to you in surprise. You’re relieved to see a small smile make its way on to his face.
“I like the sound of that, Miss Potter,” he says, winking back. You can’t help but giggle quietly.
