Yours, Fred | f. weasley x reader

The first week of school after the Christmas holidays went by quickly, you were kept busy with your NEWT-level classes, as well as D.A. meetings and Quidditch training. Angelina had managed to hold tryouts for the team within the first few days, seeing as you no longer had Fred, George, or Harry on the team. Two sixth-year boys took up the position of Beaters, while Ginny became the new Seeker, and you were beyond thrilled for her considering how much you knew she loved Quidditch.

Umbridge continued her tyranny both in and out of class, more Educational Decrees were put up, and you'd heard rumours circulating that she was questioning Professor Trelawney, the Divination teacher, far more harshly than she dared to with the other professors.

You had a free period after your afternoon Transfiguration class so you went to the bathroom to freshen up. Most students were still in class, but yours had been dismissed slightly earlier by McGonagall because she had a meeting with Dumbledore. So you had the bathroom to yourself, or so you thought. You had just walked out of a cubicle when a ghostly figure appeared in front of you, making you jump slightly.

"Hi, Myrtle," you said as you walked on towards the sinks to wash your hands. The ghostly girl followed you and sighed loudly, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

You tolerated Myrtle, even though you found her to be incredibly irritating at times. You felt bad for what had happened to her, but she had an affinity for complaining about absolutely everything, so you tended to just ignore her. Most of the time she ignored you too, unless she needed someone to complain about something to and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, like you were now.

"Someone is taking up my second-favourite crying spot," Myrtle lamented as she floated through the air beside you.

"And what am I supposed to do about that, Myrtle?" you asked her as you turned on the tap and waited for the water to heat up.

"Make her leave! She can cry about her problems somewhere else, I don't care. But the bathrooms are my spot." You thought about the number of times you'd cried in the bathrooms for one reason or another over the years, and had to tell Myrtle to piss off until she scowled and left you alone.

You washed and dried your hands and then turned to Myrtle with a sigh as you hoisted your bag up onto your shoulder, "where is she?"

"The last cubicle, which happens to be my favourite to cry in, by the way. You would think Veronica Spratt would have better places to be than in my bathroom," she scowled and crossed her arms as she drifted in front of you.

"It's everyone's bathroom, Myrtle," you resisted an eye roll, and then the rest of her words registered with you and you dropped your voice to a whisper, "Veronica Spratt is the girl crying in here?"

Myrtle pouted woefully and nodded, "she's been here most days since Christmas, and I'm tired of it. I don't want company in here. Well, unless you'd like to tell Harry to come and join me again, it's been a long time since I've seen him." She smiled suggestively and you did roll your eyes this time, and then you steeled yourself and walked across the long bathroom.

You didn't even know why you were getting involved, you didn't like Veronica and she didn't like you. She'd given you her sympathies about Cedric at the start of the year, and apart from a few occasional glares during your sixth year before the Third Task was held, she'd completely left you alone since, as if she'd forgotten you existed. You weren't friends and you never would be, but you just hated the thought of anyone spending their days crying alone in a bathroom cubicle.

You came to the last cubicle which was the only one closed, and sure enough you heard muffled sniffling. You knocked on the door and the immediate response was, "for the last bloody time, Myrtle, go away!"