— common room cuddles, fred weasley

sweet vanilla kisses, fred weasley

requested by: @whizbangs-78

words: 550

You stood in the kitchen, an apron wrapped around your frame, golden sunlight seaping in with the light breeze from the open window. Fred’s arms were resting on your waist as he leaned against your back, his head poking out to observe as you whisked together some eggs, buttermilk, baking soda and powder.

“Love? You mind grabbing the flour?”

Fred left your side momentarily, reaching up with ease to grab the bag of flour from its placement on the top shelf. Placing it on the counter, he returned to his previous spot behind you, this time pushing your hair to the side to press a soft kiss to the skin of your neck. You hummed at his touch, pouring the flour into the bowl, along with salt, butter, and vanilla extract. Mixing the ingredients together until it formed to a smooth cream batter, you shivered as Fred’s lips were now pressed behind your ear, inducing a familiar whine from your throat.

“As much as I may enjoy what you’re doing, Fred,” You giggled, gently shooing him away, “I’d really like to not mess this up.”

“If that’s what you want, darling.” Fred stepped to the side, now leaning on the counter by elbow, his eyes roaming the features of your face.

Content with the batter, you lifted the spatula, sticking your tongue out to taste it. It melted in your mouth, sweet but pleasant. “Would you like to give it a taste?”

Fred nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he dipped a finger into the batter. Before you could register his intentions, his finger slid across your bottom lip, smearing the batter, and then he was leaning in. His lips danced with yours, his tongue cleaning up the little mess he made. When he pulled away, he smirked at the sight of a pink blush blooming on your cheeks.

“Tastes almost as sweet as you.”

You shoved his shoulder playfully, shaking your head as an unstoppable smile formed.

“Here, I’ll get the batter situated. Why don’t you go ahead and wash the berries?” Fred passed you the bowl of various freshly picked berries — strawberries, blackberries, and blueberries.

You agreed, carrying the bowl over to the sink, where you took handfuls and rinsed them under the water. As you finished up, laying the berries out to dry, Fred poured the cake batter into a circular baking dish, popping it into the oven. He then sauntered over to you, eagerly pulling you into his arms, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “We’ve got about thirty minutes to ourselves, what do you say we take a stroll?”

“Sounds like a lovely idea.”

The air outside was warmed by the sun, but with the chilled breeze, the weather as one was quite perfect. Birds chirped among the trees as you walked hand in hand with Fred along the cobblestone pavement. Your nose filled up with the sweet scent of dandelions and roses, and you welcomed it. As you admired your surroundings, Fred admired you — you always were so beautiful in the sunlight.

He squeezed your hand, gently, “I’m quite in love with you, you know?”

Hearing those words, even though you’d heard them plenty times before, made your heart swell. You peered up at him, a sense of peace flashing across your features, “I’m quite in love with you too, Freddie.”

yours, fred weasley

based on “yours” by evann mclntosh

requested by: @prettysatan

words: 850

The Gryffindor team had won yet another game of Quidditch, and as always, people rallied together in the Gryffindor Common Room for celebration. Upon Fred’s arrival, he had been shuffled away by his friends, but while he listened to their words and responded accordingly, his eyes met yours across the room.

Fred was all you saw, even with the space as crowded as it was, an array of different faces and overlapping voices and yet it was as if everyone simply vanished and fell silent to your ears when you were looking at him. His smile lit up the whole room, filling it with a sense of warmth and felicity that had you breathing easier than before he had walked in.

Your heart practically pumped out love for him, it was coursing through your veins and pooling in your stomach at all times. He flooded your thoughts and held you in the palm of his hand, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

For a chunk of the party, you chatted with various others and kept yourself busy with a few games and drinks while Fred did his thing. Simply knowing he was in the same space as you was enough to bring you ease.

You were on your fourth cup of Firewhiskey when the ginger boy finally sauntered over to you, immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Having a good time, love?”

“It just got better, actually,” You peered up at him, a tipsy smile dancing on your lips, “Now that you’re here and all.”

Fred’s mouth lifted into a smirk, his grasp on you gently tightening. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fantastic, Freddie boy.”

The alcohol had caused a heated bubbling through out your body, but you felt euphoric almost, at ease. Your skin tingled where he touched you, his touch just as intoxicating as the liquid itself. It was as if your infatuation for the boy had heightened.

He chuckled, the sound pleasing to your ears, “Come on, love, let’s relax for a bit.”

You let him guide you to a corner of the room, where the two of you settled into the cushions of a couch. Instinctively, you climbed into his lap and buried your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled sweet and his skin was warm on your cheeks.

One arm wrapped around your waist and the other brushed through your hair as he held you, contentment swallowing you up. You treasured moments like this, when you could simply exist with him in silence, it felt intimate yet serene.

The noise had died down as students sprinkled out and to their own Common Rooms, or up to their Dorms for a nights sleep. Eventually, it was only you and Fred left, cuddled up with no intentions of parting. His arms felt like home, and nothing mattered to you more than being home.

You’d fallen in love with Fred quite a time ago, but you still felt as smitten as you did the very first day. He drove you wild just as much as he brought you peace and comfort — laughter came effortlessly when he was around, he offered you adventure and never failed to make you feel free, he showed you what it was like to truly live, yet still he was your safe place, the fresh air you breathed, your sense of tranquility and concord.

Never before had you felt such a way about a person, but from the moment Fred first ever said your name, you were sure he was going to be the one. And now, you knew, and you welcomed it. And there was nothing more saccharine than knowing he was yours and you were his, that he loved you the way you loved him, that this could be forever.

As the clocked ticked close to midnight and your body grew tired, you stretched out a bit, a yawn slipping into the air. Fred cupped your face in his hand, soothingly stroking your cheek with his thumb, “Getting sleepy there, darling?”

You nodded, climbing off his lap and leaning against the furniture itself. “But I don’t want to sleep alone.”

“You don’t have to. We can sleep together, right here if you’d like.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Fred situated himself so that he laid properly along the couch, opening his arms to you again. You settled into his side, an arm draped across his stomach as your legs tangled together. His fingers went back to work in your hair and you hummed in content, listening to the soft beating of his heart. “I love you, Fred.”

“I love you too, pretty girl.”

And as you drifted to sleep in his arms, Fred knew, just as you did, that you were the one. And there was nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure that you were his future.

forget me not, fred weasley

warnings: death, grief

words: 1,149

Seven months had passed since the second war stormed the Wizarding World. All of the loss and fear, the running and the fighting and the bitter taste of disaster, for most, was in the rearview mirror. Most had waded through the wreckage, eager to grasp within their hands the future that glowed with the promise of safety, purity. Most took the good from the bad, and made something great out of it. But most didn’t include you — you, who still felt as if the weight of the war was clinging ever so desperately onto your shoulders, clawing at your still open wounds. As everyone else reached the shore, with its warm golden glow, you sank down, far below the surface.

Now, the once defeaning storm had calmed, and light had been restored to its rightful place, and yes, maybe you should be shouting from top of the mountains with glee, maybe you should have found peace by now, but it felt utterly shameful to even think of doing such a thing. It wouldn’t be fair, to carry on as if nothing had been lost when in fact so much had been lost.

Mothers and fathers lost their children, children lost their mothers and fathers. People lost their friends, their sisters and their brothers. It really only goes on, and on.

And what you lost, well, it made your heart ache in a way that felt as if it had torn itself to shreds within your chest. There was a vast emptiness in the space beside you, a space that had once been occupied by someone you loved, someone whose life was lost when it rather shouldn’t have been lost at all.

You lost him. Fred Weasley. The boy who stole your heart the very minute he walked into your life, flashing you his signature smile which was exquisitely adorned with his warm caramel eyes. You couldn’t help but to adore him on the spot, and he had been just as entranced by you. And somewhere between all of the conniving and the laughter, the yearning glances and fleeting but cordial touches, the late night adventures and friendly intimacy, you fell in love.

He was your home. It was as if everything had fallen into place, as if the piece you had been missing found it’s way to you. You were satisfied, at peace within the arms of the ginger prankster with a fiery soul and a heart of gold.

And for a while, everything was absolutely wonderful. There was tranquility in the afternoons you spent running around holding hands, the nights you spent laughing under the light of a thousand stars, the mornings you spent tangled in bedsheets. His kisses were fervid, his touch made your skin tingle, his words were sweet. Fred loved you with such passion and certainty, and oh did he have plans. There was nothing he wanted more than a future with you, complete with you in a white gown and him in a tux and two special words, a home to call your own, a family. It’d be a lie to say you didn’t have the same desires. And god, you were so close, it was all right there — twenty years old, a diamond ring on your finger, half unpacked boxes, his and George’s business was booming.

But there was a darkness creeping in the air, threatening you, everyone you loved. And if there was one thing you weren’t going to do, it was stand down. No, you were going to fight, it’s what you were meant to do, it’s what was right. Even if you were afraid. Afraid of losing someone you loved, losing your home, losing yourself. And so when the war knocked down the door, you stood by Fred’s side — “I love you, Freddie. No matter what happens tonight, I love you.”

But nothing prepared you for what happened that night. Within the blink of an eye, you lost everything.

You were distracted, caught up in the moment when a death eater sent a curse in the direction of a young girl, a student. Without hesitation, you had pushed her out of the way with your body, hurling a hex at the death eater. In the few seconds it took you to check the girl over and stand back on your feet, a second curse had been yelled into the air, reaching your ears just before the explosion that sent the walls around you crumbling. The explosion itself pushed you down again, the ringing in your ears and the ache in your head overwhelming.

All you could hear then was Percy’s voice, loud and soaked in fear, and that’s when the panic settled in. Scrambling to your feet, you spun in circles, searching frantically for the face you knew so well. It was to no avail, though — you were looking in all the wrong places, too scared to look down into the rubble itself — until your eyes landed on Percy, immediately following his line of sight. Peeking out of the rubble was a hand, his hand, the hand you had held many times before. The dread pooled in your stomach, and with shaky legs you climbed onto the pile, hastily pulling at the large rocks.

You had to swallow down the nausea when he came fully into view. His face was scratched and pale, as still as the rocks themselves. You couldn’t stop the scream that slipped out as you fell to your knees, tears clouding your vision as they spilled down your face, leaving a bitter saltiness on your lips. One of your hands settled on his cheek — he was still warm, but his heart no longer beat in his chest, everything about him that had been bright and lively was now dull and empty.

You swore you could hear your own heart shatter, the pieces falling one by one as you choked on your breath. With your head buried into the crook of his neck, there was nothing more you wanted in that moment than to feel his arms wrap you up, but they only laid limp by his side.

For those next few hours, as the battle carried on, as his family weeped just as you did, even as Voldemort himself had dissolved to mere ashes, everything ached.

There was no relief. You didn’t celebrate, you didn’t stay and hold your friends and family, you didn’t tend to yourself or accept help — instead, you walked away, carrying with you the loss of someone you loved.

You couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t eat, you didn’t dare step outside, and on the worst days, you couldn’t even pull yourself out of bed. Every fiber of your being burned excruciatingly with grief.

And for seven months, dust gathered on your white gown, the boxes remained half unpacked, and the boy you loved served only as a memory.

fred weasley masterlist

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forget me not

sweet vanilla kisses

common room cuddles

yours

chasing butterflies

harry potter masterlist

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chasing butterflies, fred weasley part one

“had i known, i would not have left you beneath those stars, on the night when i last saw you not knowing it was the last” listen to “a bitter song” by butterfly boucher

warnings: death, angst

words: 1,298

taglist: @wand3ringr0s3 @schlongbottom @whizbangs-78 @vivianweasley @cappsikle @cloudyybabee @witch-and-a-half

The atmosphere around you changed as you walked through the mass of people who either mourned their loved ones, sat consoling another, or tended to their own wounds. It was somehow even darker than before, the weight of the past few hours falling onto you, thick and heavy as you wandered through the room, searching for a familiar face — though really, almost every face was familiar, both of those who were lucky enough to live, and those who weren’t.

But there was a specific face sketched into your mind, one of the boy you loved, a face you hadn’t seen since the very start of the fight, having been separated shortly after finding each other in the first place. As you neared the end of the rather large space, a group of ginger haired people caught your attention, and at the sight of them, you couldn’t help but smile, picking up your pace to reach them.

Only, as your feet dragged you closer, the smile on your face was hesitant, twitching on your lips as George’s eyes met yours, red and puffy, as if he himself had been mourning a life. Before you could speak a word or even see whose body it was that Molly was leaning over, George rushed forward, his arms wrapping you up in a tight embrace, managing to hide the sight ahead, even if only for a moment.

This only caused a bubble of panic to form in your stomach, though, and almost immediately you were pushing him away, peering anxiously past his frame. In a matter of seconds, your heart had wrenched up, everything around you suddenly a blur, a distant ringing in your ears as you held your breath, hands clenching into a fist at your sides.

A hand gently rested on your shoulder, but you didn’t bother to take notice of whose it was before you were yanking yourself away, falling to your knees beside the body which laid limp on a stretcher. A voice in your head only whispered one name, a name you had hoped to be shouting with glee by the end of all of this.

Fred. His skin was pale, eyes open but glassed over, dull and unseeing. And when your hand made contact with his own, he was cold, the warmth you had known for so long and grown accustomed to completely gone.

Your throat tightened as you opened your mouth, the action stopping you from speaking. All you could do was stare with lips parted, tears clouding your vision as they formed in the corners of your eyes and filled to the brim. You didn’t blink or dare move, the reels of your mind turning violently, trying to make sense of what had gone wrong.

And it hit you, all at once, the ache in your chest building up until suddenly it felt as if it had exploded, a burning sensation shooting through your veins and across your skin. A grief stricken wail ripped from your throat, the sound so defeaning that it made everyone around you flinch, some even reaching up to cover their ears.

“Oh god, no, no, Freddie, please,” Your arms had latched onto his body, lifting him so that his head was against your chest and your face was buried into his hair, “Wake up, please, please wake up.”

George had let himself fall to his knees next to you, fresh tears slipping down his cheeks as he listened to you, watched you mourn his own brother. He attempted to pull you away from Fred, but you only held on tighter, sobs spilling past your lips, the saltiness of your tears on your tongue.

“Y/n, please, let me-”

“No! I can’t- he can’t be gone, please. Come back to me, baby, please.”

George sighed, this time grabbing onto you with a new sense of determination, making you loosen your hold on his brothers body. He slowly unraveled your arms, gently guiding Fred back down to the stretcher before pulling you away. Immediately, he brought you into his arms, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

Your body shook with each breath you took, your cries only growing louder and louder, yet still ever so slightly muffled against him. He could feel the wetness of your tears on his skin, staining the fabric of his shirt as they built up. But he had no care for such a thing. It was quite literally the least of his worries in that moment as he held you, softly rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you.

“It’s alright, love, let it all out,” He let a hand tangle into your hair as he held you closer, hoping his body heat and gentle touch would calm you at least to the point where you would let yourself really breathe, “It’s alright.”

The rest of his family had stepped away by now, giving the two of you space and letting themselves grieve without worsening the impact for you. About ten minutes had passed by when your sobs had subsided, turning into hiccups as you tried to regulate your breathing.

When George felt the time was right, he chose to speak up again, “Can you breathe? Do you feel okay enough to try getting back on your feet?”

You hesitated, but nodded against him, leaning away so that you could look directly at him. He offered you the smallest of smiles, all that he could muster up before he stood up himself, his arms lifting you up along with him, steadying you onto your feet.

His eyes then began to scan over you, searching for any visible cuts or wounds, “Are you hurt at all? Do you feel pain anywhere?”

Swallowing thickly, you managed to force out a quiet “No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, good,” He squeezed your hand in his reassuringly, “Come sit with me?”

You stayed silent but let him lead you over to a bench, where the two of you sat down and you let your head fall onto his shoulder. New tears had stopped forming, but the old ones stained your cheeks, mixed with dirt and even a bit of soot. Your eyes were as red and puffy as George’s had been when you first arrived, maybe even more, and your hair was a mess, falling into your face and tangled at practically every angle.

For a while, it was quiet, the both of you simply offering your presence to the other. But as everyone else slowly began to trickle out, be it with their loved ones or bodies in tow, Ron had opted to make his approach, replacing his own grief stricken frown with a soft smile, “Are you ready to head home?”

“Yeah, we’ll catch up with you,” George answered for the both of you, watching as Ron nodded and walked away, him and the rest of the Weasley family exiting the Great Hall, Fred’s body carried between them, “Are you going to be okay? You know, being back at The Burrow and all?”

“I’ll manage. Are you going to be okay?” The guilt of burdening him with your own grief on top of his was eating at you, only making your heart feel heavier in your chest.

“I’ll manage just the same.”

Neither of you quite believed the other, though, but neither said anything else, either, simply choosing to leave it at that. George intertwined his fingers with yours again, keeping you close to his side while walking out of the mostly crumbled and torn apart building — Hogwarts, a place that had once been so full of life, magical and enchanting to the eye, but could now only be viewed as ruins, the ghosts of many stuck behind with it.

wildflower, ginny weasley

“i think i love you a little bit more every day”

warnings: none

words: 1,229

It was inevitable, to love you, but even if it were a choice she wouldn’t have hesitated to still love you. And she wouldn’t regret it for even a second, because if there’s one thing she was certain of, it was that you were the one.

You were intoxicating — from the warm September morning she first met you, to the chilly December evening four years later, you overwhelmed all of her senses in the most delightful way. There was nothing she welcomed, or adored, more than your delicate touch and cherry scented perfume. And the sound of your laughter was the exact melody she wished to play on repeat through the hours of every day.

If anyone asked, she’d compare you to sunshine after a week of rain, flowers blooming at the first sign of spring, and the first breath of fresh air after being held under water to the brink of the water itself flooding your lungs. But really, nobody needed to ask a single thing to see or understand just how much the young girl adored you. Even you hadn’t been blind to it.

For the first few months of your fifth year, three years after the friendship between the two of you blossomed, you began to notice her gaze which lingered a bit longer that it should’ve, not that you minded. At the time though, you didn’t think all that much of it. But suddenly she was blushing every time you walked into the room, and the more time you spent alone, the more you caught on to her gentle but perennial touches and the way she lit up when you said her name.

And that following summer, you had been invited to stay with her family just as usual. It was your second home, complete with her presence, and nothing felt as euphoric as it did when you got to spend a whole summer with the girl you had fallen in love with. The realization of your own feelings came to light after the realization of hers, and you weren’t afraid or in doubt, for if there was one thing you knew, it was that there was no one who made your heart beat quite like she did.

When the month of august rolled in, there was only one thing you had left to do before the school year started up again — you wanted, no, you needed to tell her exactly how you felt. You’d grown tired of circling around each other, keeping everything at bay, hoping that the other would rip off the bandaid. Besides, as your mother always told you, if you love someone, don’t let them get away.

On a rainy afternoon, the Weasley family cooped up inside after weeks of messing around in the sun, you tracked Ginny down, finding her curled up in bed with a cup of hot tea. You wandered into the room, settling on the edge of her mattress, your own cup of tea held in between your hands. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

She peered up at you with curious eyes, “Is this you being sarcastic or genuine?”

“Completely genuine. I always did prefer the rain to anything else.”

“Right, of course. How could I possibly forget that time you dragged me outside into the pouring rain for a walk, but whined like a child when the sun came out.”

You laughed lightly, bowing your head to stare at your feet, a habit you had developed when embarrassed. “Believe me, I won’t do that again. We were both sick for three days after that.”

Despite how she had felt at the time, Ginny smiled fondly at the memory, “You never did quite stop apologizing for that.”

“If you’re lucky, I probably never will.”

A silence fell between you, taking a moment to only examine each other. You studied her features, mentally tracing over each of your favorite things — the curve of her lips, the shade of her eyes which reminded you of the moon, the mess of ginger hair that fell into her face. But suddenly you cleared your throat, straightening your posture and fighting off the blotches of pink that were threatening to paint your cheeks.

“Is there something on your mind?”

“Yes, actually. I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while now.”

Ginny furrowed her eyebrows, sitting up so that her knees were pressed against your own. “Is it bad? Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” You reached out, squeezing her hand reassuringly, “I don’t want you to worry, or panic, or second guess anything I’m about to say, alright?”

She nodded hesitantly, her gaze gentle and intense all in the same.

“I love you, Gin. More than you’ve ever known, more than I ever thought I would, really. Bloody hell, I’m in love with you. I’d shout it from the rooftop if it wouldn’t earn me a smack to the back of the head,” You paused, searching her eyes for any unspoken response, “The point is, I can’t stop thinking about you. I love you. And, I think you love me too.”

There was a new silence after the words settled, different expressions flashing across Ginny’s face. Then within a few seconds, there was a smile settled on her lips, “You’re right. I do love you too. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to put that out there.”

“I think you put it out there pretty well, actually.”

“Nothing gets past you, huh?”

You smirked, leaning forward ever so slightly, “I guess not.”

Ginny met you halfway, her lips locking on yours in a kiss that she had waited years for, and it was just as magical as she thought it would be, as blissful as you thought it would be. She tasted sweet, like berries and honey, and her lips were soft and warm. You melted into her, the sound of both hearts beating in your ears. When she pulled away, leaning her forehead against yours as the two of you caught your breath, you peered into her eyes, the color of them brighter and yet more dazed.

She smiled, just about to lean in for the second time when there was a loud creek at the door, whispers and laughter being muffled behind it. Your eyes widened when two ginger heads poked inside, a playful smirk on both faces.

“It’s about time, you two.”

Ginny leaped of the bed, her cheeks a bright red as she slammed the door, “Bugger off, Fred!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “I suppose nothing gets past them either.”

“I guess not.”

A year has passed since that day, and there was just as much love even now. Nothing made Ginny happier than knowing you were hers to love and hold, and kiss whenever she pleased. And with every day that passed, she only adored you more and more. She adored you when you were crying a puddle of tears and when you were laughing at some silly joke, when you were tangled in her bedsheets and even when you were grumpy or stubborn.

And on this chilly December day, as you rested in her arms half asleep, wrapped up in one of her old sweaters, she adored you.

“You look awfully cute in my clothes, love.”

“Oh shut up and just kiss me already, Gin.”

“Anything for you.”

the things i never told you, george weasley

“nothing haunts you like the things you don’t say”

a/n: this is written from george’s point of view. think of this as just a look inside his head, at all the things he never told you – pretty much goes as the title says. it also switches from past to present thoughts, hopefully it all makes sense

warnings: mentions of death

words: 808

December fifteenth. That was the day I fell in love with you. Snow was falling from the clouds and sticking to the ground for the first time that winter season. Straight after breakfast, you practically dragged me outside by my ears. Despite the cold air, the redness of your cheeks, and the wet snow soaking through your clothes, you still had the most radiant smile adorning your features. All I could do was admire you as you twirled around, laughing as you caught snowflakes on your tongue. And then you grabbed my hand, and god you’re fingers were freezing but still nothing felt better, and in that moment, I knew.

I love you. More than you will ever know. It terrifies me, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I’d scream it to the whole world if only I knew you loved me too. If you did, I swear to you, I wouldn’t ever break your heart. You deserve a love as great as you are, and there’s nothing I want more than to be the one to give it to you. Fred and I are always bickering about whether or not I should come clean, and I don’t know, maybe I should. The worse thing that could happen is you never talk to me again, but the best thing is finally being able to call you mine.

You don’t give yourself enough credit. I know you don’t think I notice, but it’s not hard to miss, how little you think of yourself. It drives me mad, actually. Because you’re so bloody amazing and it’s like you don’t even know it. All I want to do is show you just how lovely you are, how beautiful and special you are. Even if you don’t see it, or believe it, you’re perfect as you are, perfect to me.

I dreamt of you. Believe it or not, it’s not even the first time you’ve been in my head even as I’m asleep. I see you there all the time. But it’s different when I’m dreaming. You love me just as I love you, and everything’s well. There’s no war looming in the distance, there’s no fear or death or tears. It’s all love and peace, and we’re happy, together. I promise you, one day you’ll really have all of that. One day everything will be just that well.

I’m scared. Everyone knew this day would come, I knew, you knew. But that doesn’t mean I’m not terrified. I don’t want to lose you, or anyone else for that matter. But I can’t turn away now. If we both make it out of this alive, the first thing I’m going to do is tell you how much I love you. It’s about damn time you knew, don’t you think? And well, if I don’t make it, at least I die having loved someone, right? And it’s for the cause, right?

I’m sorry. You should still be here. You deserve to still be here. I feel as if I let you down, as if somehow this is my fault, as if there’s something I should’ve done differently. And maybe then you would still be here, with me. It shouldn’t have been you. If I could bring you back, if I could change everything, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I still can’t believe I lost you before I got to love you properly. And it’s not just that. I am so sorry you’ll never get to experience all of the things you wanted to. There was so much left to do, so much time. I’m so sorry.

I miss you. You’re gone, and I don’t know where to go from here. I always pictured a life with you by my side, how do I picture one without you? Everything feels so out of place, like there’s this missing piece that I just can’t find. I suppose that piece is you. I just wish I could hold you again, smell your strawberry perfume, kiss you to make up for all the times I never did. I know I’m going to miss you for the rest of my life.

I still think about you. It’s been almost two years, and while life has kept on going, it hasn’t really felt the same. I still think about you, all the time. Every little thing reminds me of you. Sometimes I swear I can still feel you. Hear you. And well, if somehow you are there, or if you can hear me, I just want you to know that I’m always going to love you. You took a part of me with you, and really, I don’t want it back. Besides, why would I ever want to forget a girl like you? Who knows, maybe if I’m lucky I’ll see you again. Until then, wait for me?

dancing with your ghost, cedric diggory

“i’ll see you when i fall asleep” based on “dancing with your ghost” by sasha sloan

a/n: the secrion in italics is a dream

warnings: death, grief

words: 1,829

It wasn’t meant to be like this, that was the one thing you knew. Or rather, that was the one thing you told yourself until you were convinced it was true. Because really, everything that happens is meant to happen. Both the good and the bad, it all happens for a reason, even if you don’t understand it, or believe it. It just so happens to be easier to pretend. And to dream.

That was all you did — dream. When the sun went down and the stars lit up the night sky, those hours were your favorite, because when your head hit the pillow and you fell into slumber, you dreamt of him. For those few hours, it was as if he was still there with you, as if he was still alive.

Part of you knew it wasn’t healthy, to fall into this cycle where you’d spend the day only waiting for the night to come and wrap you up in its false promises, false bliss. But you didn’t want it to change. If you let yourself feel the pain, your heart would only crumble to pieces. And you didn’t have a wish to move on, or forget him. He was the love of your life, the one you carry with you even after it’s gone, the love that makes you feel alive. If you didn’t hold on to him, you’d have nothing left.

For weeks you’ve stuck to the cycle — in the early mornings when the sun rose, you climbed out of bed and went through the motions of the day. Some days were easy, the busy days, the days piled with classes and quidditch games and homework assignments. They served as a distraction. But every other day was anything but easy, with their open ended hours and blank canvases. There were a few rare occasions where’d you occupied your time with a stroll or a friendly catch up, but for the majority you could only sit in silence, trying your hardest not to fall apart.

It was a relief when the moon came out to play. You’d slip on one of Cedric’s sweaters – they kept you warm, and they smelled like him, vanilla and sandalwood – and bury yourself in blankets, and you’d let yourself drift. And just like every night before, you found him.

But two months in, Cho, a friend you had grown up with, took notice of your behavior. It wasn’t hard to miss, the way you avoided the truth and feared it for so long. For those two months she had given you the time, opting to let you grieve however you pleased. But she caught on to your cycle, how you weren’t grieving his death but rather dissociating from it. She was afraid for you, that you’d spiral and one day find yourself past the point of repair, and that was the last thing she wanted for you.

So, as the day turned late, Cho found you in the corner of the Library, your head buried in a book, and with a clearing of her throat, she sat beside you. “Y/n? May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course. What’s on your mind?”

She shuffled in her seat uncomfortably, fumbling with her hands as you brought your attention from the book in your hands to her.

“Well, to be completely honest, I’m worried about you. It’s been two months since Cedric died, and it seems as if you haven’t quite accepted it. It’s like you don’t even know it.”

You felt your skin grow cold at her words, and a bitter frustration fluttered in your chest. “Of course I know, Cho. I’m not delusional. You know nothing about me.”

Panic flashed over her features, but then she softened, leaning closer to your straightened frame. “I’m not trying to attack you, okay? I’m telling you this as a friend. I care about you far too much to let you do this to yourself.”

“Do what, exactly?”

“You’re not yourself anymore, Y/n! God, you’re hardly even a person these days. Do you really think people haven’t noticed?”

Slamming your book shut, you glared at the girl in front of you. “I’m perfectly fine, Cho. You have no right to intrude, alright? You didn’t lose the person you loved, you don’t know what that’s like. You’re not me!”

“Will you please just listen to me? There’s no need for us to have a fight. That’s not what I came here for,” She reached out to grab your hand, but you flinched back, retreating into the cushioning of the chair, “I just want to help you.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“You need it.”

The air between you fell silent, and you sinked into yourself, avoiding further eye contact. Cho reached out again, this time successfully wrapping your hand in hers. “You need to let yourself move on. I’m not saying you need to forget him, I’m just saying you need to say goodbye. You need to try. Cedric would want that for you, I know it.”

You could feel your heart beating heavily in your chest as tears began to cloud up your vision and fall onto your skin, “I don’t want it to hurt.”

“I know. But it’s going to. It’ll hurt like hell. But then it’ll get better, I promise.”

“How?”

“It just does. One day you wake up and it’s a little easier to breathe. And when you think of him, you’ll smile. And it’ll be okay. You’ll get there, but you have to let it hurt first.”

“What if it’s too much?”

Cho sighed, her own eyes brimming with tears as she heard your voice tremble. “Then we’ll go from there. I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

You released a shaky breath and offered up a small smile, “Okay.”

Cho squeezed your hand and stood, pulling you up into her embrace. She held you for a moment, waiting for your breathing to steady before she let go. “It’s late. You really should get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? It’s the weekend, so we can do whatever you’d like.”

As you watched her figure retreat, you hugged your arms to your chest, for the first time afraid of falling asleep.

The clock struck twelve, but you laid in bed awake still, staring up at the ceiling with dazed eyes. You were eager to see him again, but you knew it would have to be the last time, maybe for a while, maybe ever. You knew this was the first step to letting go. And that terrified you.

You had doubt in this being the right thing. Cedric had loved you up until his very last breath, you swore he loved you even now. You could feel it, in the wind that kissed your skin ever so delicately, in the warmth that wrapped you up even on the coldest day. He was there, even when he wasn’t. And you were certain the hardest thing you would ever have to do is say goodbye. It felt as if you’d be leaving him behind.

But in despite of it all, as you felt yourself slipping under, you welcomed it, because at least you’d get to see him one last time.

The golden rays of the afternoon sun were warm, casting a beautiful orange hue upon the scene below it. Citrus and lavender lingered in the air, the light breeze carrying it along. You stood at the edge of a field, marigolds blooming in every direction. There was a faint whistle of a song in the wind, and standing with open arms in the middle of a field was the boy you loved. Without a moments hesitation, your feet carried you to him, your frame molding into his as he caught you in his arms. His familiar scent of vanilla and sandalwood reached your nose, and you smiled, breathing it in. “I missed you, Ced.”

“I missed you too, darling.”

You lifted your head from its place against his chest, peering up at him through your lashes. His eyes were a smokey gray, gentle and kind. His hands traveled from your waist to your face, and you sighed in content as they cupped your cheeks. “May I kiss you?”

“Yes, please.”

Butterflies swarmed softly in your stomach as his lips brushed against yours, his taste already intoxicating. You tangled your fingers in his hair, sighing into the kiss as it deepened. At the chirping of a few birds, Cedric pulled away, but his hands stayed in place against your skin.

“I just want to stay like this forever.”

Cedric chuckled half heartedly, pressing his forehead against yours. “If only.”

“I’m so sorry, Ced,” You felt the burn as tears brimmed in your eyes, trickling down until the saltiness seeped into your mouth, “You didn’t deserve t–”

“Shh, love, it’s quite alright.”

“But it’s not. You were so young. And in love. We were in love. We were supposed to graduate, and build a life together. You were supposed to live out your dreams and grow old.”

“Well, now you’ll get to do all those things for me.” Cedric pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head and pulled you to his chest again.

“I don’t want to live without you.”

“I’ll always be with you, love. You still have so much life to live, don’t give up now. Do it for me. Do it for yourself. And one day, we’ll meet again, and it’ll be as if we never said goodbye. Promise me you can do this.”

You sniffled, your grip tightening onto his body. “I promise.”

“Good. Now, what do you say we have a last dance?”

His arm snaked around your waist, his other hand now entangled with yours. He began to sway to the sound of the wind, humming a tune for only the two of you. You felt his touch growing more distant on your skin as you looked up into his eyes one last time, a pained smile on your lips. “I love you, Ced. Always.”

“Always.”

Morning came much earlier than you wanted, the light flooding in through the curtains as you stirred. There was a deep ache through out your whole body as his touch became more faint, the ghost of his lips leaving behind his taste. You lifted yourself up, letting your back lean against the headboard. Pulling your knees against your chest, you buried your head in your hands and cried, the tears falling like rain. Every bone in your body burned in woe, the pain of your loss fueling the fire. Everything you feared came crumbling down as you let yourself feel what you had been hiding from. And it hurt like hell, definitely, but it meant you were one step closer to letting go.

And one day, just as Cedric promised, you would meet him again.