Catch Me, I'm Falling | Fred Weasley

George watched his brother from the corner of his eye. He should have been happy, overjoyed. Not only had Fred gotten the girl of his dreams, but they'd also just found out that Harry was giving them the money he'd won in the Triwizard tournament. Perhaps it was only a thousand galleons, but it was a thousand galleons more than they'd had before. It was like winning the lottery, just enough to get their joke business on its feet. Their dreams could come true! They could build a joke shop, and do what they love, and experiment, and, and... and Fred was moping.

George wasn't angry, just confused. What could possibly be wrong? He desperately wished to know. But if anyone knew Fred's rocky moods, it was George. Prodding at it wouldn't get him anywhere. He'd just have to wait for Fred to come to him. Good thing George was the patient twin, then.

Despite the joyous news, there was also fear and uncertainty in the back of George's mind. Voldemort was back. It was something he'd never thought could happen. Yes, things had been getting fishy lately, but this? How? George had taken his safety for granted, jumped off bridges (both metaphorical and physical) with Fred like it was nothing. Now, it seemed even the risk of building a joke shop was one he wasn't sure he should take.

-

Fred was a ghost, in more ways than one. In the aftermath of the Triwizard tournament, his family had gone back to the burrow with fear in their hearts. His parents were busy, constantly apparating in and out for business with the Order of the Phoenix, from which he and his siblings were strictly forbidden. So Fred had done the household chores, hoping they would distract him from the chaos in his mind. But even degnoming didn't provide enough distraction.

For the time being, it was easier to be mad at his brother Percy than it was to be mad at fate. Percy, who'd somewhat abandoned the Weasleys, was an easy punching bag, but despite Fred's anger with him, he was not as mad at his older brother as he made it seem.

He was better now than he'd been at first. He'd gone through an initial stage of calm, followed by intense panic, then shock, then grief, and now he'd settled into a grim acceptance of his fate. He found that the one person he needed right was the one person he couldn't seem to talk to. The person he'd abandoned, hadn't written a single letter to in the past few weeks.

It was wrong, he knew. Terrible, even. But Fred didn't know what to say to her. Olivia. His girlfriend. What would she think if she saw him like this? He was supposed to be there to support her, not the other way around. What would she think when she saw the dark circles under his eyes? What would she say to him?

But Fred was desperate. He needed her. He'd just have to suck it up and hold it together for her. So, Fred did what any desperate man would do. He invited her to the burrow.

-

"Welcome, dear! I'm so glad to finally meet you," Molly Weasley exclaimed as a sopping wet Olivia stepped into the burrow. She'd just passed her apparition test but was not as good at it as she'd like. Her attempt to apparate to the burrow had landed her in a field about a mile away, and she'd had to trudge through wet grass and mud in the pouring rain to the burrow.

When Mrs. Weasley noticed, she immediately frowned. "Oh dear, you must be cold, let's get you cleaned up." Olivia was rushed inside and immediately shown to the bathroom where clean clothing was laid out for her. It appeared to be leggings that must have come from Ginny and a large t-shirt with the name of some wizard band written across the front. Olivia took her time cleaning up, knowing full well that she was just delaying the inevitable; seeing Fred.

When she finally emerged, with her hair wet and the shirt hanging off her, Fred was there, waiting for her. She blinked, surprised and a little shocked at his appearance.

"Mum went on some... business. She'll be back soon." His eyes flicked down and then up. Olivia's mouth opened, then closed again as she deliberated what to say next.

She landed on, "Okay. Where should I put my things?"

Fred nodded stiffly and motioned upstairs. "You'll be in Percy's old room. He... isn't here right now. I'll show you up."

Olivia took a breath and followed, flinching at every creak of the wood. She'd been so caught up in her thoughts that she'd barely taken a look around the burrow. It was warm and cozy, so unlike her Aunt's pristine cottage. No, it was messy, awkward, homey. She felt good here. Comfortable despite the stiffness between her and Fred.

Olivia summoned her trunk and placed it under the bed, telling herself she'd get to it later.

"Should I give this back? I have my own clothes, you know," Olivia said.

Fred took a long look at her before answering. "No, keep it. My shirt looks good on you." Olivia scarcely had time to blush before he was turning around to leave.

"You're not joking." The words slipped out of Olivia without permission, but they were true. Normally, Fred could barely utter a word without some sort of jest or prank. Hearing his voice so solemn... it felt wrong. Fred turned around and Olivia took a hesitant step forward.

"Are you- are you okay?" She asked.

Fred's eyes fluttered closed as he contemplated what to do next. He knew. He knew there was no way to avoid the topic. He'd have to face it eventually. So Fred took Olivia's hand and led her onto the bed.

"Let's talk."