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Where Have You Been? (Post-war Fred Weasley x Reader)

SYPNOSIS: Being a muggleborn, you were left no choice but to flee amidst the rise of You-Know-Who. Leaving without a goodbye nor a trace, Fred was left confused as to where you are. A few weeks after the war ending, you had suddenly appeared in front of Fred on their shop. Lost feelings are unraveled.

WC: 2.1k

CW: Angst-ish with comfort ofc, I hope the angst is uhm... Adequate?, fred lost an eye but it's not explicitly explained, reader's gender is not mentioned but I had femreader in mind when written, not proof read, mentions of y/n one time then l/n two times sorry, wrote this very quickly wow!

Hello! I hope y'allsms like this... I wrote this instead of finishing my school works lol! School is temporary, Fred is 4ever. ❤️

The poster crumpled as your hand tightens and shakes around it. The picture shows exactly the bright and fun place you had been looking for, now standing tall in front of you. The shop was built at a corner in Diagon Alley, making its red color pop from the dim and broken shops around it. Though a whole lot better looking, some corners are blackened, undoubtedly by unforgivable spells that were thrown around carelessly—the war had not been kind. Its windows are plentiful enough to see through, though it's blocked by the products inside and a bunch of posters that talk about a new invention of theirs. Finally, a large, comical, familiar head sits at the top with a hand holding a hat mid air, presumably supposed to move, however it was stagnant today. It's the perfect centerpiece for the street.

Your throat tightens. I am closer to them than I've ever been for almost a year. You kept telling yourself. You cannot tell which is stronger—your excitement or your dread. How'd they react after practically leaving them without any word of goodbye, knowing that there's a possibility you'd never see each other again?

But, you will see each other again now that you're here. You heard somewhere from days of traveling whose students died at the war at your school. Your heart truly aches for them and as selfish and cruel as it sounds, you were glad for it does not bear the names of the twins on the list.

A bird had flapped its wings and woke you up from your trance. It's time. You cannot wait any longer. Your foot finally stepped forward, slowly but surely, reaching the front door of the shop. It has a big ‘CLOSED — FUN WILL BE RIGHT BACK!’ sign. Ignoring it, your hand wrapped around the doorknob, twisting it and it surprisingly opened. Do they leave their door open regularly? You huffed a laugh, breaking the tension building up on your chest. You opened it wider, enough for your body to come inside as quietly as possible.

It was how you left it. Every corner was filled with colors. From your right, shelves of skiving boxes stood neatly unaligned. On the other side, a cage of round, pompom-like balls was placed against the wall. Some of the pygmy puffs were mewling. Tons of joke products were scattered all over waiting to be bought. Everything reminds you of your memories with them. With him.

Looking around, you let your feet wander around the shop, remembering when you first step foot on it. Not for long, however, as you stepped on a fallen explosive. You had managed to contain your scream, although the commotion was not left unnoticed by someone from the backroom.

“Oi, George! Don't go wasting products before we even open!” A voice muffled by the separation of the walls that sounds oh so familiar boomed throughout the shop.

Your heart started to beat faster. It was one of the things you longed to hear again. Wasting no time, you approached the door of the stockroom. Just then, before you even got a hold of the door knob, it burst open, revealing a pensive Fred, his eyebrows knit together. He’s wearing an orange jumper and black slacks. His hair looks disheveled, like he ran his hand through it countless of times. And the most that sticks out to you—a black eyepatch covering his left eye. He looks a lot older than you last saw him.

“We're severely running out of strontium carbonate for—... the fireworks…” Fred finally looked at you for the first time in a while. His eyes widened, mouth agape. You couldn't comprehend the look he had on his visible eye—is he glad? Angry? But then again, it's obviously the latter.

The famous, smart-mouthed Fred Weasley was speechless for once.

“Hey.” You finally said, voice breaking. You can feel your throat tighten. Suddenly, all those memories came crashing down, your guilt did nothing but to worsen the feeling, your tears threatening to spill.

“Hey.” He echoed, his expression still filled with shock. “Is it really you?”

“Yes. It's me, Fred. It's me.” You gasped, voice barely a whisper. You're afraid that if you speak up loudly enough, you'll spill all the pent up emotions you have.

“I thought you died.” His face contorted into hurt and your stomach sunk deeper. His cold voice hit you like a weight on your chest.

“I-I’m sorry. I wanted to— but my-my family—” Your words slurred. It was frustrating. You knew from the start this is how he'd react and yet, you seemed unprepared. Words weren't cooperating, so you embraced him with vigor, representing all those days and nights you yearned to do so. He only stood there, stiffening.

You slowly let go, tears flowing unrestrained down your cheeks. Looking up at him, his eye bore into yours. His pain is evident, you can almost feel it.

“Look, I wanted to stay, Fred. I really did. I wanted to—to fight with you. With everyone. I really did. But my family—my family, I'm a muggleborn, you know that—I had to protect them. We flew out of the country and I should've at least said goodbye to you. But I was selfish, so, so selfish, because I didn't want to see you one last time or else I wouldn't have the courage to leave. There wasn't a time spent away when I wasn't thinking of you. When I wasn't worrying if you're still even alive. The only thing that gave me hope was when I heard your voice on the radio. I'm sorry, Freddie. I'm sorry. I missed you. I missed you so much.” Tears are cascading down your cheeks, blurring your sight. You can't really tell his reaction. “I hope you forgive me. But if you don't, just know that I—I love you.”

“I spent days looking for you.” He finally spoke up, his voice breaking as well. He was crying. “I was uncertain if you were still alive. Throughout the whole time, I was mourning you. I was grieving you.”

“I know, I know. I'm so sorry.” You shook your head, looking down on the floor, you wrapped your arms around yourself, shame eating you on the inside. “I was an idiot.”

“You didn't let me tell you what I wanted to. I didn't know when you left, but…” He took out something from his pocket. It was a ring. A diamond ring. Your breath hitched as the gem twinkled at you under the light coming from the windows. “I went to your house one afternoon. You weren't there. The house wasn't there. I was so sure of what I had wanted us to be before. After not seeing you, I was so unsure and confused. I was furious at you.”

“I know.”

“I had lived with uncertainty whether my best friend was alive or not.”

“I'm sorry.”

“But now… Now that you're suddenly here…” You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. This is it. You had to brace yourself for the impact. Yet, you know that no matter how much you've prepared for this moment, it'll still hurt.

“I've never been so sure.” Your eyes shot open but everything was happening so fast. His lips already meeting yours, his hand cupping your jaw. It was everything you had been wanting since you set foot outside your house the day you left.

He pulled away but your lips chased him back. This time, the kiss was intense, less of testing the water, more of trying to fill up the missing time you'd spent without each other.

“I missed you so much, Y/n.” His tears drops from his cheeks to his jaw, your foreheads touching as you cry together.

“Your eye—” You lifted a hand to caress his cheek just below his eyepatch. He took your hand in his to comfort you.

“It's nothing. I'm still alive, aren't I?” You simply nodded.

“I hope I'm still attractive to your standards.” You both huffed a laugh. His humour even at any given circumstances is one of the things you admire about him.

“If anything, it makes you look a lot hotter.” Your face was innocent yet your tone says otherwise. It was his turn to flush into a red tomato, trying to laugh it off.

“I hope,” Glancing at his hand that held the ring, you took it. “... you'll still have me?” His smile was soft and he gazed at you like he's saying, ‘Obviously, I'll still do.’ His breath hitched when you kneeled in front of him, you holding out the ring. You wiped your tears before speaking up.

“Fred Gideon Weasley—”

“No, stand up—” He gripped your arms, trying to make you stand but you were stubborn and he knew that.

“I knew the first time I had laid my eyes on you that you were the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Knowing every bit of you throughout our Hogwarts years did nothing but amplify that feeling. And I… well, left you amidst the war. But, now that I'm here with you again, I'll never ever leave your side. Ever. So, will you have me again?” You finished with tears falling down again.

“I bought that ring, love. I'm the one who's supposed to be proposing.” He huffed a laugh as he helped you up to your feet again. “And for the record, I would've preferred you to leave. I can't bear the thought of seeing you risk your life.” He held your face again and looked at you tenderly.

“My dearest, Y/n. Yes, I will have you again. And again. And again. And again. In another life. Even if we were inanimate objects I wouldn't wish to be separated again to you. I know you'll never leave again ‘cause I won't let you.” You smiled. Really smiled. For real this time. The first time in months you've felt happy. With his confession, you took his left hand and slid the ring to his finger.

“Dang it, L/n. I'm the one who's supposed to do this, all of this.” You both laughed again, filling the shop with your joy.

“Weasley.”

“What?”

“No, I mean, it's Weasley now. Or, well, soon. Not L/n.” You grinned up at him.

“The war may have taken my eye,” He tucked your hair on your ear, away from your face. “But you, my love, is going to be the death of me.”

————————

“Oi, Fred! I finally got a deal with the Spattergriot fungus dealer— Blimey! Is it really you?” You turned around from the familiar booming voice coming from the door and you threw yourself to him. You missed George as well.

“Yes, yes it's me, Georgie. I'm sorry I—”

“None of that, please. I'm just glad you're alive!” He returned the hug, tightly embracing you.

“Though Fred here might be a tad bit more happier than me seeing you again, isn't that right, dear brother?” George glanced at Fred behind your back, seeing his state and the gleaming piece of gem on his left hand.

“Oh, well it seems I've missed something, then. I hope I didn't interrupt anything.” He gave you two a knowing look.

All was well. You had visited The Burrow with the twins and their family had welcomed you back warmly. The shop's reopening was a success, even more so when it first opened now that kids and adults alike aren't getting haunted by dread and death eaters anymore. The wedding had been exciting but stressful to plan, though Fred always reminds you that just by getting married to you makes it perfect all the same, even without the extravagant details.

True, the two of you weren't the same person as you were before as war can truly never leave a person as it is. The feelings, however, stuck through everything.

————————

The cold afternoon air hugs you as you lay in the grass of the large field not far from The Burrow. Fred lays his head on your thighs, twisting and turning some brilliant product in his hands. He paused, looking at you like he's trying to figure something out.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ran your hand through his hair. He looks absolutely perfect beneath you.

“I was just wondering. You know, that day you returned. At the shop.” He started fiddling with the product again.

“Go on.”

“How'd you get inside?”

“Well, dearest, the door was open.”

“What?” He suddenly sat up like you just poured a bucket of cold water on him.

“Mhm. It was open. No Alohamora needed.” You smiled at him, clearly amused. You can't hold your laughter any longer.

“That damn George. He forgot to lock it when he left to go see that dealer.” He laid back down to your lap. To where he belongs.

“I think he knew I'll be coming.”

“I think he's a forgetful git.”

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