Chapter 2: Things are different since you’ve been here last.
Warnings: BestFriend!Reader, Fred is in a relationship but no infidelity or cheating. Sorry to anyone named Jennifer? Love confessions and reveals. Just a short cosy Christmas romance.
Word count: 1.4k
Christmas at the Burrow looked very different this year for Fred, emptier somehow, without your festive and joyful presence. He'd joked many times before that you seemed to leave a trail of tinsel and magic in your wake through the whole festive period and today more than ever your absence would be truly missed. He'd woken early, looking over as his sleeping girlfriend beside him in Charlie's old room, having let George and Angelina take their old bedroom and wether it was the different room or just the passage of time and experiencing Christmas as an adult, something just felt off. That burst of excitement just wasn't there and he was tempted to roll over and just go back to sleep for the first Christmas in his life.
But his mind wouldn't quit, replaying the vision he had of you over and over, the one he'd created seeing you reading his letter- the one that had told you not to come. It was the lowest low and he hated that those words had to come from himself. He knew he had so much to make up for, but he was comforted by the notion that you wouldn't be alone and that you'd be with Hermione, Ron and her parents celebrating their muggle Christmas like you had those times when they'd been away to visit Charlie. At least there would be less people than here, he'd lamented, already feeling the claustrophobic nature of so many people crammed into the house again. When you were here, he never seemed to mind, but now with every man and his dog wedged inside the Burrow, he felt as if he could barely breathe.
It had been an awful conversation to have, with his girlfriend so adamant that it was weird you being apart of their family Christmas. George had been less than kind about it, standing up for his long time best friend in a way that Fred didn't, much to his own shame. Fred couldn't remember the last time he and George had cross words but this was certainly a time that they came to loggerheads. Molly had been furious and insisted that you were the one welcome not Fred's girlfriend who was a practical stranger to the family. Molly and Jennifer's relationship was strained at the best of times and this only created a bigger rift, not that Jennifer ever really seemed to care. George was almost definitely ignoring her, except for when he was shooting daggers into the back of her head as if glaring at her would suddenly send her up into a giant poof of smoke and she'd magically be replaced by you. It would be an awkward Christmas for all, that was for certain.
Fred pulled himself out of bed, trying not to wake the woman beside him who was taking up most of the bed with her diagonally spread legs. He threw on an old jumper and stepped out of the room in the search for coffee, needing it this morning.
"Well out of all my children, you were the one I least expected to see so early," Molly says as she sees Fred walk into the kitchen. It was early, way before the sunrise and it seemed that she was the only one awake, getting ahead with the preparations of the day, having lost her regular sous-chef and organising partner.
"Merry Christmas dear!" She wipes her hands on her apron and marches over to Fred with her arms extended, pulling him into a tight and motherly hug, face beaming at having him home for the holidays.
"Merry Christmas mum," he says somewhat sleepily, holding her close for a moment before she whizzes away back to the preparations.
"There's coffee in the jug and tea in the pot," she calls over her shoulder as she goes back to chopping carrots. He mutters a thanks and reaches for a cup, filling it almost to the brim with the coffee from the pre-prepared jug that she was keeping nice and warm with magic. The little looks she keeps sneaking over her shoulder at him don't go unnoticed and though she hasn't said a peep yet, he knows exactly what she's thinking.
"Perhaps you should-."
"Mum please," he says forcefully, immediately cutting her off. His face is pulled into a slight grimace though his eyes look sad, enough so that his mother could see straight through him as always.
"I'm just saying that cooking for all of you lot was much easier when she was here," Molly utters, bulldozing her way through the conversation.
"I know mum," Fred replies, shoulders dripping slightly. There's a moment of silence that passes between the two where no one dares speak, both of them having the same exact thought.
"You know son, whatever you think, it's not too late."
His mind flashes to the woman in the bed upstairs, his girlfriend of three months and though he'd deny is profusely, he suddenly feels a strong sense of detachment from his feelings for her.
"Have you spoken to her?" Molly asks, busting herself with chopping the cabbage, though even to the untrained eye she's barely paying any attention to it, just pretending for the sake of Fred.
He shakes his head and takes a long sip of his coffee.
"Don't want to bother her, I'm sure she's having a great time at Hermione's," he says, leaving out the next part of the sentence he so desperately wants to say, not feeling up to receiving a smack from his mother. Even with Ron there.
"It's Christmas Fred, perfect time for a letter of good cheer, you can send Errol."
His Christmas spirit didn't seem to improve throughout the day, though of course he tried to pretend that this year Christmas just didn't feel right. He went through the motions, exchanged gifts with his loved ones and ate a delicious full roast with all the trimmings prepared by Molly. He couldn't explain the sudden detachment he felt for his girlfriend, even as he watched her unwrap the necklace he'd gotten her for Christmas, seeing her eyes light up at the delicate chain that y/n had helped him pick out, not that he told Jennifer of that fact. Watching his loved ones open their presents was always a joyous occasion for Fred, especially when it was something he'd carefully chosen and put thought into, put for some reason he just didn't care when his girlfriend has opened her gift. He'd spent most of his time with George, not exactly ignoring his girlfriend but definitely doing his best to avert her affections.
He'd written a letter to you just after breakfast, finding a few moments on solace away from the overcrowded house to write a message of merry Christmas and that he was missing you. Errol had dutifully carried the letter away from the house, somehow managing to catch his foot on the window ledge and fall a few feet before eventually recovering but he'd still not heard anything back by tea time and felt off about it for most of the day.
After dinner most of the Weasley family were spread around the house lying in various chairs and taking the time to do nothing but digest the copious amount of food they'd consumed. Fred however couldn't rest and decided to take a walk around the property, slipping out undetected as the few that were still awake busied theirselves with their new gifts.
Getting away from the house and all the people crammed into it felt like a breath of fresh air now that he could hear his own thoughts. Christmas this year had been once massive disappointment right from the off. Though his mum had created a warm atmosphere and a delicious meal as always, it just didn't feel any different to a regular Sunday back at the Burrow with the exception of the haphazardly decorated, lopsided tree in the corner. He was disappointed that Errol hadn't returned by now and he had to stop himself from constantly looking up into the sky to check for the birds return, feeling more than defeated when he saw nothing except the thick clouds that looked ready to erupt with snow at any moment.
"Oi Fred! Stop arsing about out here and have a look at this!" He hears George call for him and turns around to see his twin poking his head out of the door waving him back. He sighs, the puff of steam erupting against cold air and trudges back to the house quite frankly ready for the day to be over.
Warnings: BestFriend!Reader, Fred is in a relationship but no infidelity or cheating. Sorry to anyone named Jennifer? Love confessions and reveals. Just a short cosy Christmas romance.
Word count: 3k
Series Masterlist
Christmas had always been your favourite time of the year. Nothing made you happier than the decorations, the warm twinkling of the lights on a dark and cold evening and the smell of freshly baked Christmas cookies that filled your entire apartment from late November until early January. Instead of following the trend in muggle society of buying new decorations every year or following a strict 'theme' or colour scheme, each year you pulled out the large boxes of decorations with glee, boxes that were filled with sentimental and meaningful items that you'd slowly collected all throughout your life. Every decoration had a story behind it, a memory attached, from the smallest tree decoration to the seemingly inconsequential tea light holders. The joy that these items brought you was unmatched, though not for any materialistic reasons but for the memories they reminded you of, of christmases past spent with your loved ones.
There was nothing you loved more than decorating your apartment from top to bottom, from Christmassy themed tea towels hanging in the kitchen to hand towels in the bathroom embroidered with little Christmas trees to match with the bath mat. No corner of your apartment was left untouched during the festive period with every piece of carefully selected decor having a place to spread cheer to even the darkest and most mundane areas of your home. Fairy lights littered nearly every available surface in your home, the warm lights creating a homely and soothing atmosphere that emitted happiness to even the most ardent grinch.
You'd been counting down to your planned festivities since the start of November, ordering Christmas cards and shopping for gifts, wrapping paper and all the rest with your usual enthusiasm, declaring once again that you were going to be on top of it this year, ahead of schedule for once. Your annual Christmas cookie baking day had come and gone, leaving you with stacks of different Christmas themed biscuits that were meticulously placed into large containers and finished with a neat bow, ready to bestow the gifts to your loved ones. Each tin was filled with their favourites, knowing after years of the same routine who preferred what and exactly what they would want to receive.
This year however, the beautiful twinkling lights in your apartment had remained off and the house was completely void of any Christmas cheer. Even the delicious scent of the Christmas cookies had faded until the sweet notes of vanilla and peppermint could no longer be detected, in favour of the regular air freshener that had been brought back out from the spare bedroom. A small pile of presents sat under the tree, already unwrapped and unmoved since being placed there days before. Whether it was laziness or a more sinister emotion that kept you from moving the gifts you didn't know, but whatever it was you just couldn't bring yourself to touch them.
It was only the 23rd of December and Christmas had well and truly been and gone for you this year, passing you by like a flash in time sucking out all of your energy and leaving you with none of the regular happiness that came along with the festivities.
Even the tree was starting to look limp and exhausted, waiting in a similar fashion to you for the day when it would all just be over this year. The tins of cookies sat shoved in a corner of the kitchen stacked up in a somewhat neat pile, the personalised tags still showing on the side with the bows now squished and flat. Molly and Arthur, Ron and Hermione, George and Angelina, Fred and Jennifer.
The only recipient to have received their tin of cookies were Harry and Ginny who were spending their Christmas alone as newlyweds in Anglesey so that Ginny could continue on with the strict practice schedule of the Holyhead Harpies which continued even through the festive period. You'd met up with Ginny a few days ago before she'd left for Wales and had exchanged gifts, ensuring that she also took her cookies with her. She'd bought you a beautiful stationary set that you'd been eyeing forever in Diagon Alley since your last shopping trip together and that was the gift that now sat beneath your rather depressing tree.
The plan had originally been to attend the big family Christmas at the Burrow just as you had since you were 12. Your parents often had to travel for work at the drop of a hat thanks to their high profile jobs in the ministry and it had been that way since you could remember. Countless Christmases they had been away working and Molly had always graciously extended an invitation for you to join their family for Christmas to save you being alone at school, something you looked forward to every year. Being Fred's best friend, it was a natural fit and you slotted into the family with ease, even as it grew in size when girlfriends and partners began attending the celebrations in the loving but over-occupied home.
After leaving Hogwarts, the routine had remained the same and the Burrow had been your destination for Christmas Day every year bar three, one when your parents were home and two when you'd gone to Hermione's, her parents so welcoming to you when the Weasley's had gone to visit Charlie.
This year, your parents weren't working away due to their recent retirements but had actually booked a cruise in the Caribbean throughout their Christmas holidays as a reward for all their hard work. You'd been invited naturally, but the idea of spending Christmas away from your friends and on a beach in a bikini with no Christmas trees in sight and no turkey sounded like a nightmare to you and so you had respectfully declined their offer. Molly and Arthur had immediately extended their invitation once again, happy to have you with them and you'd accepted in mere moments, already fraternising with Molly on what you could bring to contribute to the meal.
That had all been shot down when the words you never expected to come from Fred suddenly showed up in his letter to you a week ago, your heart shattering as you repeatedly read the words in disbelief.
'It's probably best you don't come this year.'
Your friendship with Fred had started the second you sat down in the same train compartment as him and George on your first journey to Hogwarts and had only gotten stronger over the years. You were inseparable, almost as close and he and George without sharing any DNA. He'd been your best friend and your greatest ally for over 10 years and there was no one in life you trusted or cared for more than him. Your relationship had been strained as of late, due to his relationship with Jennifer and her apparent dislike of you. For the three months they'd been seeing each other, it seemed like he disappeared from your life a little bit more every week; not that you ever mentioned anything to him.
He alluded to some conversation in his letter that made it apparent that they had all spoken and had come to the conclusion that you were to be uninvited to the family Christmas at the Burrow to spare the feelings of his girlfriend who couldn't understand why you were tagging along. He'd tried to be delicate in his words, no doubt leaving out the worst of the conversation but you saw straight through his clumsy attempts, reading between the lines to see the clear truth that you were no longer welcome. Your place had been taken and your presence was no longer required. There was nothing to say, no point in arguing against the decision and so you had replied to Fred before the tears began, telling him not to worry about it. When I'm actual fact, you were the one worried about it as you'd have nowhere else to go for Christmas.
Although Charlie was staying in Romania to look after a newborn flock of dragons and wouldn't be attending this year, George and Angelina would be going to the Burrow as usual along with Percy, Audrey, Bill and Fleur. Fred and Jennifer would be there as well having the time of their lives with Molly's delicious cooking and Arthur's somewhat clumsy attempts at Christmas carols. The fire would be lit and the smell of vanilla would hang in the air, the comforting sounds and scents of the Burrow acting as a perfect backdrop to the most idyllic Christmas you could picture. Vintage decorations would be hung upon the beams, the treasured hand me downs of generations old decorations would be placed in their usual spots spreading joy to the hosts and their guests, a real family Christmas.
Hermione and Ron were spending this Christmas with Hermione's parents in Heathgate, having alternated annually between parents to keep things fair. She was exuberantly excited to go home for Christmas and even Ron seemed excited at the prospect, if not completely terrified of being around his future in-laws for so long.
Harry and Ginny would be in Anglesey for their initiate first Christmas as newlyweds and your parents were already halfway around the world and would not be back until well into the new year, leaving you completely alone for Christmas without any more options.
Whether to save face or to spare Fred's feelings, you'd lied in your letter telling him that you would be going with Ron and Hermione to her parents who had invited you to join them once again for Christmas, knowing your parents would be away all season. Of course, they hadn't. You'd exchanged Christmas cards with them just like every year, finding their usual message of 'good cheer and Christmas wishes' in the card, but the communication had ended there and nothing more was said.
You'd said nothing when Ginny had wished you a Merry Christmas and safe travels only days ago after your gift exchange in the leaky cauldron after work before she and Harry left for Wales later that night. She was on a strict practice schedule and they would be hidden away in a little cottage on the coast for Christmas Day before her early morning qudditch practice Boxing Day. The Harpies were competing in a charity match against another local team Christmas Eve and had travelled up early as a mini-honeymoon, exchanging gifts with the family beforehand when they could squeeze them in. You'd smiled and nodded when she told you to keep Fred in line with his yearly Christmas pranks, having found a niche in enchanting the Christmas crackers to either turn into fireworks, hidden boxing gloves or so on. You'd said nothing of your change of plans and had wished her a merry Christmas in reply, wishing the Potter's the best. You knew if you told her the truth that she would change her plans to include you and the very last thing you wanted to do was intrude upon their first Christmas as husband and wife.
You'd stayed equally as silent when your parents had dropped in before they left for the airport to exchange gifts ahead of their trip, excitedly telling you of their plans to go snorkelling and every port they were stopping in. You wouldn't spoil their plans either and knew that they deserved the break after so many years of dedicated working. You'd waved them off, thanking them for the gifts and had dutifully accepted the task of giving their best to Molly and Arthur, including the card you were to take with you. The same card that went out in the post only hours later with a rather expensive stamp to ensure it made it there on time.
You tried to push the thoughts away of being the odd one out in your friendship group, everyone seeming to move on, find their other halves and grow up. Yet you were still alone, never finding the person you could rely on to share Christmases with, or other celebrations, or a home. You would always be the third wheel, the best friend that didn't really belong even if you were always made welcome- until this year apparently. Even the Christmas cards you agonised over every year felt pathetic, your singular name signed at the bottom with no family photo on the front or specialised cards, simply the generic Christmas print from just you.
You tried to push these thoughts down as much as you could but the scene before you was of complete misery, an unlit tree with an appreciated but uninspired couple of gifts below, a true sign of a lonely Christmas.
Christmas Day for the first time in your life was miserable. There was no joy, no cheer and no excitement. Your apartment was cold and silent, dark and unwelcoming, void of any holiday cheer that it had seen in years past. You tried your hardest not to picture the Burrow and all the happiness that would be occurring inside at the same time but you couldn't help it, your thoughts torturous. The whole house would be waking up to the smell of a lovingly prepared home cooked breakfast, a feast for the senses as the delicious smells of bacon and syrupy pancakes crept up the multiple stairs to rouse everyone from sleep. Arthur would have tinkered with the old muggle radio to be playing Christmas songs on a loop as background noise and there would be a different kind of magic in the air. The house would be illuminated in twinkling light, with a mismatch of happy voices talking over each other excitedly, digging into the breakfast and then the pile of presents beneath the tree. It would be warm and homely, just as Christmas should be.
Instead of that, you woke up to a cold and silent apartment, void of any other life except yourself, just a normal day that seemed infinitely more depressing, no matter how much you told yourself it was just another day.
You woke early and despite your attempts to snuggle down into the duvet, it didn't bring you the usual comfort nor warmth you desired and so you had breathed out a sigh and climbed out of bed. You made a cup of tea and sat on the sofa as you slowly came around, not even bothering to turn on the tv or radio for some soothing background noise. You wouldn't be a martyr today. You'd treat it as any normal day, maybe even get some work done so that you were ahead when January rolled around.
You looked towards the corner of the room where the now empty tree sat in complete darkness, void of any decorations, mocking you by simply existing, knowing that you definitely wouldn't be able to move the tree out of your apartment on your own. Your Christmas Eve had been spent removing any evidence of Christmas from your home, your reasoning being that they had served their purpose and would no longer be needed until next year. They didn't bring you joy this year, only cluttered up your apartment and if you'd be taking them down in a week or so anyway, you might as well get ahead.
The rest of the decorations had been bundled up into plastic boxes that you dragged back into your cupboard, closing the door on this Christmas both literally and figuratively. You were far from a Scrooge, you certainly weren't bitter about it and wouldn't be cursing out bah humbug to your friends and loved ones; you simply didn't want to acknowledge Christmas this year.
It was odd, you had to admit. Usually your apartment would be illuminated with cozy twinkling lights and a festive ambience playing on your tv when muggle Christmas films weren't playing on a loop. But there was nothing, not even the crackling fire ambience you'd grown so fond of in previous years. It just wasn't worth it if you weren't celebrating.
So you cradled your cup of tea like a lifeline and eventually dragged yourself in the shower, dressing in your warmest and comfiest clothes ready to face the day. You put on a little bit of makeup and cast a spell to dry your hair quickly, wanting to keep yourself busy. You cooked breakfast, a little sad to do it for one but it was that or starve and the latter option was unappealing at best. You ate and washed up after yourself, opening the kitchen window to let out the smells of cooking, feeling comforted by the strong gust of cold air that permeated through the open window.
You pulled out your work bag and began sorting through the big pile of work files that you carried with you, meticulously sorting them into category and level of importance. You hadn't even realised how long you'd been sat there in peak organisational mode until your mobile phone rang, startling you.
It was your parents wishing you a Merry Christmas.
You went along with it, spinning a tale of how nice your Christmas was at the Burrow, keeping up the charade. Naturally your parents thought you were still celebrating with the Weasleys and you were not about to break the illusion now. You almost froze when your parents had questioned why it was so quiet there, knowing how loud the Burrow was on any normal day never mind Christmas morning and so you told a little white lie that you'd stepped outside whilst Molly cooked breakfast as the rest of you impatiently waited for Percy to rouse to begin opening presents, much to George's irritation. You deflected their questions, asking after their plans and where they had been, more than happy to centre the conversation around them.
After ending the call with your parents, you slumped onto the sofa in a selfish stupor that you'd only briefly allow yourself. You hated lying, always had, but you knew this time it would be for the best, for the sake of your loved ones. You looked at the semi-organised pile of work notes and sighed, no longer wanting to continue but knowing that you couldn't stop there, so you got up and made another cup of tea to atleast make the task bearable.
Warnings: BestFriend!Reader, Fred is in a relationship but no infidelity or cheating. Sorry to anyone named Jennifer? Love confessions and reveals. Just a short cosy Christmas romance.
Word count: 2.8k
Looking through the kitchen cupboards with diminishing hope, you cursed yourself for not going food shopping before Christmas. You wished you'd gone and stocked up the second Fred had told you that you weren't welcome at the Burrow but between work, meeting friends before Christmas to exchange gifts and everything that had to be done in-between, you'd completely forgotten that staying home for Christmas meant still having to host yourself.
You sighed and reached for a packet of instant pasta that to be quite honest you really didn't fancy eating but it was about the best you could do in terms of eating a meal. You'd go out tomorrow and stock up, leaving early with a pre-written list to make the trip as short and efficient as possible. Were supermarkets even open around here on Boxing Day? You'd never needed to know before. Looking at the contents of your cupboards and fridge, you hoped so.
The bland pasta was a far cry from a Weasley Christmas dinner and though you tried hard not to think of the crispy pigs in blankets, buttery mash and perfectly moist turkey covered in Molly's homemade gravy, it was hard not to. The thoughts only seemed to make your instant pasta taste worse and you felt like weeping into your little bowl as you choked it down, hoping there was some hidden alcohol in the back of a cupboard somewhere to chase it with. Your eyes crept to the boxes of homemade cookies still piled on the counter in their decorated tins and with a sigh of resignation, you found the box labelled for Fred and Jennifer and dragged it over to the sofa with you. If anyone didn't deserve your homemade cookies this year it was him, and you could always ask for forgiveness rather than permission when he eventually remembered your existence. You turned the tv on for the first time in nearly two days and immediately skipped past anything that was remotely festive, opting instead for some old film you remembered from your childhood. You lasted around twenty minute before your eyes started getting heavy and didn't resist that delicious pull of a nap even for a second as you snuggled down into the soft blanket and allowed your eyes to close, the low rumbling of the tv slowly fading.
"Hello? Dad can you hear me!?"
"Merlin's beard! What a fabulous contraption!" Arthur says with a face of pure wonder as he looks down at the gift from his youngest child. "Boys, come and look at this!"
Before him on a little table sat a muggle telephone that Ginny and Harry had bought him for Christmas. Unlike other muggle technology, this particular device had been counter-enchanted so that the usual issue of spells interfering with the mechanics of muggle devices didn't matter. It was an old model, very old if you were at all familiar with the muggle world and almost archaic in appearance but to Arthur Weasley it may well have been a spaceship. It was a black touch-tone style phone with a large receiver sat proudly atop, though it was currently pressed tightly against Arthur's ear, his face an example of pure delight.
He could actually hear Ginny's voice through the other end chatting away at him, even though he knew she was over 300 miles away. He was certain he could also make out his new son-in-law's voice in the background wishing them a merry Christmas and he beamed even wider at the possibilities beneath his fingers.
"That is quite extraordinary," Percy says within the crowd of men that had gathered around, both by their own choice and coercion, the woman mostly standing back to allow the boys to play with the new toy. Fred had to agree, for once his father's obsession with muggle artifacts and technology was actually really interesting and he could hardly fight back the urge to use it himself.
"Just think, Ron can ring Hermione now!" Angelina says from somewhere behind Fred, realising the more effective was of communication between the wizarding world and the muggle.
"Y/n lives in muggle London doesn't she? You'd be able to call her too," Molly says from directly behind Fred, much to his surprise. He feels a little nudge against his arm and though he usually detests the intrusion into his personal life, for once his mother is right. He smiles to himself at the possibility, especially today of all days when he could simply call you to wish you merry Christmas, knowing that Errol had probably gotten tired halfway and stopped for a snooze. He didn't know Hermione's parents number of course but surely there would be a way to find out, hopefully without having to step foot inside Ron's cesspit of a bedroom.
Jennifer doesn't hold back her reactionary scoff and Fred can tell without looking in her direction that she'd be rolling her eyes at the very mention of his best friend. Her reaction did nothing to quell the rising distaste within Fred, his newly found detachment from his girlfriend feeling more prevalent than ever. He ignores her childishness for now, focusing back on his dad and the gift once again, watching as Percy coaxes him to try out the speaker mode, having apparently been in on the secret with Ginny; a man on the inside that would be able to assist their dad when she couldn't be here to show him.
"So is everyone having a good Christmas?" Ginny's pleasant voice rings out over the speaker and instantly Fred is smiling again. Molly clasps her hands together and brings them to her chest at the sound of her daughter's voice, with George wrapping his arm about his mums shoulder as if he anticipated her emotional reaction at her youngest child being away from the family for the first time.
"Wonderful! And you?" Arthur shouts, only to be told by Percy that he doesn't have to be so loud and immediately toning down his volume. "How is the Christmas in Wales?"
"Snowy and cold," Ginny laughs, they can hear Harry mutter in the background but it's unintelligible through the connection. "What did Father Christmas bring?"
The family goes around relaying their gifts, namely the handmade creations from Molly she was so proud of, including a few extras.
"And my favourite sister in law y/n? I know you're hiding somewhere!"
There's a tense pause as everyone looks at each other in confusion and somewhat awkwardness of Ginny's words. Fred avoids everyone's gaze and stays silent, suddenly fixated on the rug, even as his girlfriend scoffs again and stomps off in a fit of rage that Fred has no intention of dealing with. Ginny was never one to hold back and he silently thanked her for creating a bigger rift that may actually pay off for him by the end of the night.
George clearly his throat, moving a bit closer.
"Uh Gin, Y/n's not here."
"What do you mean? She told me she was coming."
"Well she was dear," Molly adds, casting a fiery look at the eldest twin, even if he isn't looking. "Her plans changed and she went to stay with Hermione and her parents."
"Oh," Ginny says eventually, sounding deep in thought and highly doubtful.
Whether it was Ginny's tone or factors currently unknown to Fred, he's immediately suspicious. Surely you'd have told Ginny that your plans had changed? He knew you'd gone to meet her the other night at the leaky cauldron so why would you not mention anything then? To protect his feeling and reputation? If that was the case then he felt even guiltier about his actions. He can't help it and he pushes his way through the group of Weasleys towards the front where he lurches towards the phone.
"Gin, it's Fred. Do you have Hermione's parent's number?"
"Umm," there's an awkward best that passes though it feels like minutes to Fred who suddenly has the most violent sense of urgency he can ever remember having. "Dad's second present."
Completely in sync, the Weasleys turn their heads to the second much smaller parcel beside the first that held the telephone. Arthur lets out a little awkward chuckle to resolve the awkward tension and reaches for the small rectangle and unwraps it quickly, suddenly sensing his son's issue. It's a leather bound black notebook with the words 'address book' stamped in gold foil across the front.
"Oh how wonderful, thank you Potters!" Arthur says excitedly, opening the pages to see an array of numbers written in Ginny's neat handwriting. Ginny, having apparently heard the commotion of him unwrapping the gift lets out a little forced chuckle over the phone.
Fred is suddenly overcome with a sense of suspicion, his mind filled with questions that he has no answer to. It's too much, the urge to grab the book out of his fathers hands and type in Hermione's number immediately to check that you are there but he tries to suppress the urge as much as he can. Instead, he walks away and grabs his coat, exiting the house completely. It truly was the only way he could stop himself for grabbing the receiver and doing what he needed to do.
Had you lied to him? Had you really gone to Hermione's? He couldn't fathom that you hadn't, all because of his foolishness. He was painfully angry at himself for listening to Jennifer and her stupid parents who had instigated you being uninvited from their family Christmas, a stupid and unnecessary action. If anyone deserved to be here to celebrate with his family it was you and not Jennifer, he couldn't believe he'd been so blind, so stupid.
By the time he lifted his head to look at his surroundings, he could have winced at the irony of where he'd ended up. The little clearing in the woodland behind the house where the two of you spent every minute you could away from the house in the summers, just you two. It was your 'spot', the place that you'd found just for yourselves since you were 12 years old.
It was then, with perfect clarity, that Fred accepted the feelings he'd try to deny since the year you both started Hogwarts, the big realisation that had taken him an embarrassingly long time to accept. He craved you here with him, not because he simply enjoyed Christmas more with you but because he enjoyed life more with you around, because he loved you. He'd loved you since the moment you sat down beside him in the great hall, the first time he heard your melodic laugh laughing along to one of his jokes. He loved you more everyday, his family's love for you only cementing his feelings further. There was a reason Jennifer was so different to you, his inability to see what was really in front of him and his decade long denial of his feelings. But there was no good reason why Jennifer was sat in the Burrow with his family whilst you were not.
His hike back to the house took half the time it did to get to the spot with his newly exposed feelings forcing his legs to move faster and quicker, his mind not set on what had to be done. He was almost at the threshold to the house when his mum came running out, her hands flapping as she bolted towards him.
"Dear, Ron's on the phone."
Fred didn't need to hear anymore and lunged forward towards the phone, his previous mission temporarily forgotten as he raced forward, intercepting the receiver and cutting of Ron's waffling with a shocking intensity.
"Is y/n with you?"
Ron, apparently not expecting his older brother to cut him off mid-sentence, stumbles for a moment in confusion.
"Yes or No Ronald, is y/n with you for Christmas?"
"Haven't seen her," Ron replies timidly, as if he'd worried about the fallout of his answer.
"Fred? She told me she was coming with you like normal, she never asked to come with us, though of course she'd have been welcome," Hermione's voice chides in, covering Ron's incompetence.
"But if she's not here and she's not there, then where is she?" Ron's voice echoes around the silent room.
Fred's frozen for a moment with another wave of overwhelming emotion he can't place, but recovers quickly and climbs the stairs two at a time, leaving the rest of the family to handle the inevitable questions.
He climbs to the top of the house, Charlie's old bedroom where he and Jennifer had been staying and opens the door with a little too much force. He finds Jennifer sat on the bed, her face fixed into a comically large pout and her arms crossed.
"Ginny did that on purpose! She knows I'm here with you for-."
"Jennifer," Fred says, closing the door behind him and cutting her off, not caring for the tone of voice she has in relation to his only sister. "I can't do this anymore."
"Freddie, what do you mean?" Hearing her use the nickname for him that you had used since the early days of your friendship makes his stomach lurch uncomfortably. He didn't want to do this now, today if all days, but it couldn't wait. He couldn't lie to her anymore.
"I can't do this Jennifer, It's not fair to lead you on. I'm sorry."
"Lead me on? What do you mean? Wait, you're breaking up with me... on Christmas?" He cringes internally for how awful it sounded out loud.
"I'm sorry," he replies, though he's not sure his words are genuine. Her eyes fill with tears and he realises that he does feel guilty, but not as much as he should. Only when her face changes suddenly, tears apparently drying up does he realise that they were never real to begin with.
"It's her isn't it," she spits, suddenly finding her anger amongst the crocodile tears. He feels a sudden overwhelming urge to protect you, as much as he doesn't want to lie to her and shakes his head no.
"It's me, I."
She doesn't give him time to argue his case and jumps off of the bed, reaching for her suitcase and immediately begins collecting up her things. He didn't mean for this, not really, she could have still stayed. He doesn't verbalise this and watched as she stuffs her items uncaringly into the case, her ears almost steaming with anger.
"My parents were right about you Fred Weasley, I should have never settled for you," she curses as she stomps away dragging her suitcase behind her down the many, many stairs of the staircase. Apparently not wanting help with her case, Fred instead decided to apparate and enters the living room before she's even crossed the main landing halfway down the stairs.
When she sees him already standing there, she lets a little growl fall from her lips which matches the venom in her eyes and choosing to ignore the whole family in front of her, she stalks over to the fireplace.
As if preempting her next move, Molly suddenly flies forward in alarm, waving her arms wildly shouting out about her precious garlands that were draped on the mantle piece.
The fireplace erupts in giant green flames and Jennifer steps into them after taking a messy handful of floo powder from the bucket beside the fire and with one last venomous look towards Fred, she's gone.
Everyone is stood in shock as they look at the fireplace where Molly is blowing out a few smoking leaves of her garland that had been touched by the floo flames though thankfully it was otherwise intact. Fred cant believe the speed at which everything had happened and stares in shock just as much as the rest of his family.
"I take it you broke up?" George says with a grin, suddenly breaking the silence. Bill sniggers beside him, earning a shove from Fleur but to everyone's surprise, Fred barks out a laugh at George's words.
"Well I wasn't sure until she jumped into the fire," Fred jokes back and the rest of the family around him seems to relax a little at his regular playful nature replying.
"What are you going to do?" Angelina asks from beside George and her eyes seem to hold nothing back, knowing already where Fred's mind was at.
"That I'm still not sure about."
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All alone on Christmas [Fred Weasley] Part 4: Finale.
Chapter 4: Nobody ought to be alone on Christmas.
Warnings: BestFriend!Reader, Fred is in a relationship but no infidelity or cheating. Sorry to anyone named Jennifer? Love confessions and reveals. Just a short cosy Christmas romance.
Word count: 1.3k
My Christmas gift to you, the last two chapters in one day! Thank you to everyone who has followed this mini series. Happy to Holidays to you all!! 🖤
You groaned as you pulled the last heavy bag out of the car, trying to carry all of the groceries in one trip so you didn't have to go back and forth up the stairs to your apartment. You'd had to travel to the next town to find a grocery store open on Boxing Day and had definitely paid over the odds for the privilege, but at least you had food beyond semi-stale crackers and instant noodles.
You were deeply regretting the two bottles of wine that sat in the heaviest bag that you were wrestling onto your shoulder whilst still keeping your scarf from strangling you. The extra layers now felt like a burden and you were hot from the physical effort, desperate to be inside once again. The only thing left in the car to bring up was a two pack of kitchen rolls that you were mentally trying to work out how to carry when a voice stopped you short.
"Need some help?"
You froze, recognising the voice instantly. Thankful that the surprise had not made you drop any of the bags, you placed them down and slowly turned in the direction of the voice. Fred was meant against the parking machine just behind you, his arms crossed and covered by his thickly knitted jumper. He looked good, more than good, even with his cross looking eyes and blank face.
"What are you doing here?" You ask, slowly recovering from the shock. You force a smile but it falls from your lips the second he doesn't reciprocate.
"Could ask you the same thing," he says accusingly, still looking at you with judgemental eyes that could rival his mother's. There's nothing you can say in that moment that would make him less mad at you and so you reach for the keys in your pocket, grab the bags off the floor and haul one into his arms (the heaviest one naturally) and walk off, knowing that he'd follow you.
Fred was gobsmacked when he walked into your apartment behind you, seeing how bare it looked. There was no tree, no decorations, no sign of Christmas even in the smallest of corners except for the few tins of biscuits he could see still stacked with their bows and ribbons around. He couldn't fathom that it was only the day after Christmas and you had already cleared away every piece of evidence that it had even happened at all. You really had been hurt, enough to do this and he felt truly dreadful that the pain had come from him.
"Why didn't you say anything?" He asks, dropping the bag he was holding onto the counter. You tried to avert his gaze but it felt blistering on your face, the semi-elaborate charade you'd created crumbling right in front of you. You continue putting away your groceries, trying to busy yourself away from the conversation, your nervous energy needing an outlet.
"What gave me away?" You countered, desperately trying to avoid answering those difficult questions.
"Ginny got dad a muggle phone for Christmas," he says with a tone of voice that equals the deadpan expression you knew his face would be portraying. "Hermione's was that only number dad owned."
You sighed so hard your shoulders sagged with the effort, your entire plan foiled by the most simple oversight. Your hands stopped putting away the shopping and you focused in on the conversation, knowing it couldn't be avoided anymore.
"Gonna tell me why?" He prompts, arms still folded accusingly.
"Isn't it obvious?" You say quietly, your eyes still not meeting his.
"Not really."
You sigh. "If I'm not welcome at the Burrow then where else would I go?"
"You're always welcome at the Burrow! You know mum loves you... amongst others."
"Well clearly not! Do you want me to read your letter back to you? I was uninvited. I mean I understand why, it's okay."
"It's not okay, not at all," he chimes in quickly, your eyes raising up to meet his at his sudden outburst. He stands up straight and shifts closer to you, taking your arm
"I've been an idiot. I listened to Jennifer and her stupid parents and I've ruined your Christmas, and mine, and mums to be honest. She's bloody furious at me that you weren't there, reckon she wanted you there more than any of us." He pauses, snorting out a humourless laugh until his face settles into a sincere expression.
"It took me too long to realise that you belong there just as much as any of us, deserve it more than anyone. You belong surrounded by tinsel and presents and lights, in a real family Christmas with the people that love you. You belong with me."
Fred hesitates for half a second before he pulls you close, closing the gap between your bodies and leaning down to press his lips to yours. There's not a thought in your head except for the softness of his lips on yours and his big hand holding your waist. It's slow and gentle, the kind of kiss you lose yourself in, your legs feeling like they're going to buckle at any moment. It's new and exhilarating, the conclusion of years of unvoiced feelings and perceived unrequited love finally spilling out.
Until one thought enters your mind and shatters the whole moment.
"We can't," you say, breaking the kiss and slightly pushing Fred away by his chest, seeing his eyes glazed over as he looks down at you, his lips shiny and pink. "What about Jennifer?"
"We broke up."
"What?" You ask, your eyes searching his. Fred simply shrugs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips at he looks at your somewhat flushed face.
"She left, probably for the best."
"Fred I'm sorry."
"I'm not." He shrugs again, reaching out for you again to pull you back into him.
"I realised how stupid I'd been. It's always been you."
His lips capture yours once again and you submit to him instantaneously, no longer restricted by his prior lover. Your hand reaches up to smooth across his cheek, stroking his jawline with your thumb as his hands reach out to grab for you, holding you tightly into his body.
You pull apart with a frightened gasp when you hear a loud crash, both of you turning on the spot towards the sudden interruption. Fred roars with laughter as he sees a familiar face perched on your windowsill, a flock of messy brown feathers around him as the bird peels his face away from the glass he'd just crashed into.
"Looks like he finally found you," Fred chuckles with a shake of his head as he moves towards the window and reaches out for the letter in Errol's mouth, the bird looking utterly exhausted as he immediately settles onto the windowsill for a rest.
"What is it?" You ask, looking at the letter in Fred's hands as he makes his way back to you.
"It's an invitation," he says with a smirk, his eyebrows raising teasingly.
"You're a day late," you shoot back playfully. Fred simply shakes his head as he chucks the letter onto the kitchen counter before reaching out for you again.
"It's an invitation, to spend Christmas with me, every single one for the rest of our lives."
hi lovely, can i make a request? reader and fred are together. readers father recently passed away and it's readers first christmas without her dad, she goes missing and fred is frantically looking for her and he finds her at the top of the astronomy tower just before midnight and it ends with them saying merry christmas to each other? mainly fluff and protective
Hi dear Anon! I hope I did okay with this request and that you enjoy! If this is specific to your real life situation then I’m sending you my biggest condolences and a warm wintery hug, or if it’s just a request then you can still keep the hug! 🖤
Warnings: mentions of death (readers father), grief, sadness, Fred being an incredible boyfriend, protective Fred. Not beta read nor spellchecked.
Word count: 1.9k
Merry Christmas Baby
You'd done so well all day, even if you had stretched yourself beyond your means; masking up to your eyes until you couldn't pretend to be fine anymore.
You'd made it through the morning, through waking up alone in your dormitory, your other dorm mates all spending Christmas at home with their families whilst you remained at school, practically homeless and without a whole family to return to. You'd bathed, gotten dressed and had spent an hour in quiet contemplation in your room before making your way down to the common room.
Beyond Harry and the Weasleys who were staying at school over Christmas, there were very few other students that remained, meaning that you practically had the Gryffindor common room and the entire school to yourselves. The elves had prepared an even more lavish feast than usual and you'd happily eaten the meal until you were full to bursting. You sat beside Fred, his hand entwined with yours in a silent form of support as you joined in with the jokes and the laughter as a form of escape from your grief.
You knew staying at school was the best option, though some could argue it was only running away from your problems, the first Christmas without your dad was easier to face indirectly from the comfort and familiarity of your school and your friends.
After dinner you'd all waddled back to the common room with belts and trousers loosed and collapsed in various chairs around the room. The fire was lit and it was calm, with most of the other attendees having a mid-afternoon snooze after their dinner but you couldn't seem to nod off. You stared into the fire for a while, watching the flames rise and fall, the flickering shadows projected around the room that danced with the flames. Fred was lightly snoring against your shoulder as you lay draped over him at his insistence, his long legs acting as the perfect stool for your own. Your shoes had been long since pulled off as you lazed about, thankful for the warmth of the fire. There were so many things you were thankful for this year, trying to remain positive despite the dark thoughts threatening to intrude upon your day, always in the back of your mind like a dark cloud hanging overhead. You were thankful for Fred and George, for your friends, for the school that you loved so much, for your magical abilities and for the family that gave them to you. You were thankful for the years spent with your dad and thankful that you had somewhere to go this Christmas knowing that home was no longer an option.
It was early evening when various people began to wake from their Christmas siestas, with George waking first and Fred following in almost alarming synchronisation. The rest of the night was spent playing chess and exploding snap, occupying yourselves in whatever way you wanted. You felt yourself slipping into yourself more and more throughout the evening, with less input to conversations, your laughter decreasing until you were barely chuckling even at the funniest of quips. At first you were perplexed by your sudden low mood, thinking that perhaps your social battery had run low but it wasn't the case at all, you wanted your friends around you. It was inevitable really that your sour mood would finally take over, the undeniable thoughts of grief, of sadness, wouldn't be able to be held back forever. You suddenly felt claustrophobic in the cozy common room, surrounded by too many people and too much happiness that you were inevitably going to bring down the mood by staying.
You looked at Fred, seeing that he was currently occupied in a rather intense battle of exploding snap with Ron, briefly checking around the room for anyone else paying attention to you before you grabbed your shoes and slipped away. You walked out of the portrait hole and out to the corridor, placing your shoes on and walking aimlessly around the castle. The portraits wished you merry Christmas as you walked past and you offered them festive greetings in return, just wishing that you could slip away unnoticed without having to interact with anyone either in person or in portrait.
You curse yourself for not bringing a jacket with you as you walk out of the doors into the courtyard, seeing a thin sheet of ice and snow on the ground that once seemed to make it look more beautiful, more magical. You hugged your arms tighter to yourself, fighting back an involuntary shiver as you made your way around the courtyard without any specific destination in mind. You felt better at escaping the common room, taking some time away to allow those thoughts and feelings to surface in private. The last thing you wanted to do was cause a scene, or bring down anyone's good mood and good time, which they so rightfully deserved. You let the slew of tears finally come as if right on cue, your father's face occupying your mind completely as you think of past Christmases, of past memories with him that you'd never get to experience again.
Back in the common room, Fred celebrates his landslide win over Ron who sits back in his chair with a face like thunder, arms crossed like a petulant child at losing to his older brother. George cheers and celebrates with his twin as he scoops up the two sickles that he'd won from Harry in their bet. Fred turns to find you, confused at the lack of cheers he hears from your mouth, his constant cheerleader, but finds your seat no longer occupied. He frowns, looking around the room in hopes of spotting you but doesn't see the figure he is so familiar with.
"Gin, have you seen y/n?" He asks his sister as she walks down the steps from the dorms and bathrooms. She shakes her head with a slightly confused look, eyes whipping around the room just as Fred's had moments before.
"Can you."
"On it," she replies with a nod, cutting him off already anticipating his question as she turns on her heel to go back up the stairs. When she returns a few minutes later, she gives Fred a definitive shake of her head and momentarily considers that this is the first time that she's ever seen him look so concerned over anything. His eyes are full of worry and anxiety, body rigid but fidgety as he paces the length of the room, mind working overdrive to where she might have gone. He shouldn't have been so stupid leaving her alone whilst he played his game, knowing that the day was undoubtedly going to catch up to her.
"I've got to find her," he says to no one in particular as everyone watches him exit through the portrait hole and disappear. He runs down the corridors, not listening to the portraits that shout at him to slow down, to not run in the hall, the only thought in his mind being you. He searches all your usual places, even making his way to Hagrid's hut only to find that you hadn't been there all day. With each place he looked and didn't find you, he grew more frantic until he was almost sprinting to the next place, quickly running out of options. He stopped in the courtyard to catch his breath, watching the steam pour out of his mouth from the frozen air around him. The bell rang out to signal that it was midnight and he felt completely defeated and upset at the fact that your Christmas Day had ended exactly as he didn't want, with you feeling alone.
Only when he'd resorted to returning to the common room in the hopes of your return, did a faint but present light flicker from the top of the astronomy tower, making him realise that he hadn't checked there. He bolted quickly, his feet leading the way with his head lagging behind slightly, spiralling thoughts filling his mind with each step closer. He climbs the spiral staircase with deep heaving puffs falling from his lips, the physicality of his chase now catching up to him. He pauses briefly, seeing the figure of you through the slats of the wooden floor and exhales a sigh of relief, head dropping on his shoulders momentarily. He doesn't want to scare you, to catch you off guard especially in your emotional state and so he ensures his ascend up the stairs is as loud as possible, old worn trainers banging on the stairs with every tread.
He watches as you turn towards him as he steps off the staircase and onto the platform with you, a soft, calming smile on his face. He remains silent as he creeps forward, moving to sit beside you on the floor without any words spoken. He notes how cold and unrelenting the floor beneath his arse feels and a frown appears between his brows, thinking of how long you must have been sat here. His hand takes yours and he frowns deeper at how cold you feel to the touch, both of his hands wrapping around yours to try and give you any warmth he can of his own.
He doesn't know what to say that hasn't already been said, something that would fix the hurt and help to comfort, but nothing comes to his mind. He's always been an actions kind of man, with George taking care of the more sensitive words, and right now he's wishing he had his twin's gentleness.
When he feels your head shift to rest on his shoulder, he knows that he's doing something right. He rests his chin on the top of your head and you sit there for a few moments with nothing spoken between the both of you, the only noise being the gentle whistling of the wind as it whips past the astronomy tower.
"Freddie," he hears to say quietly and adjusts his head so that he look down towards you. You look like you'd been crying, your eyes rimmed with a pink hue that matched the shade of pink on the top of your nose. The pink around your eyes only seems to make your eyes more vibrant, the colour astounding Fred as he looks upon your face. "Thank you. For today, for everything really. I know you didn't go home just to stay here with me."
He blushes under the praise, your grateful words affecting him more than he shows. Truthfully, he had chosen to stay at school during Christmas for you, not wanting you to be alone wherever you were, knowing that there was no such thing as home for you right now. George had naturally decided to stay with Fred and Ron hadn't wanted to leave Harry in the first place, leaving Ginny who didn't want to be left at home without her siblings.
There's nothing to be said. Fred for once remains silent, his actions doing the talking for him. His right hand slips from yours and he pulls it around you to wrap you in his heat, pulling you close to his body. He senses a calmness in you now, head no longer filled with only sad thoughts. You look like you're coming out of your negative headspace, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips as you snuggle down into his jumper.
"Merry Christmas Fred."
It's the only thing that needed to be said in the moment, a fine summary of your gratitude, your thankfulness and of your love for him.
Christmas may be over for another year but I thought I’d reflect on my festive favourites from 2025.
I have done this for the last few years when I looked back on my festive favourites from 2024, festive favourites from 2023, festive favourites from 2022, festive favourites from 2021, festive favourites from 2020, festive favourites from 2019, festive favourites from 2018 and my festive…
Diwali is more than a festival—it’s a season of radiance, joy, and togetherness. From glowing diyas to lavish feasts, every moment calls for celebration. And when it comes to dressing for the occasion, Ogaan.com brings together designers who define festive elegance. The Festive Favourites collection curates silhouettes that blend heritage artistry with contemporary design, perfect for your most cherished celebrations.
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Famed for eclectic prints, intricate embellishments, and a spirited aesthetic, Payal Singhal delivers festivewear with a global flair. Her Diwali pieces are vibrant yet polished—shararas, lehengas, and statement blouses designed to move with you through the day’s celebrations and into the night.
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Blogmas Day 17: Festive Favourites – Vlogmas A few days ago I shared my favourite Blogmas posts, so today I thought I'd share my favourite YouTubers who are doing Vlogmas!
