Luciscura / Fred Weasley

Lettie sat in the dim glow of the library's candlelight, her quill scratching furiously against parchment.

Books on wizarding trials, Ministry laws, and wrongful imprisonment were piled around her. Sirius Black had never received a trial. That fact alone was absurd, but the more she read, the worse it became.

The Ministry had buried the case, locking it away with flimsy evidence and public hysteria. No Veritaserum. No formal questioning. No official documentation beyond a brief sentencing.

It was a cover-up.

Lettie felt her frustration coil inside her like a snake. Why hadn't Dumbledore fought harder for Black? He was Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot at the time—he had the power to insist on a trial.

And yet... he hadn't.

Something wasn't right.

She tapped her quill against her lips, deep in thought.

Maybe it was time to have another conversation with Harry Potter.

Lettie found Harry alone in the Owlery the next evening, fastening a letter to Hedwig's leg.

He glanced at her as she entered, brows raised.

"Selwyn."

Lettie smirked. "Potter."

He studied her for a moment. "Did you need something?"

Lettie folded her arms. "You and I have been crossing paths a lot lately."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, I've noticed."

"I overheard something," she admitted. "About Sirius Black."

Harry stiffened immediately. "What about him?"

Lettie tilted her head. "That he never got a trial."

Harry's hands clenched. "That's true."

Lettie leaned against the stone wall. "And you just accept that?"

"What else can I do?" Harry snapped, eyes flashing. "The Ministry's corrupt, everyone in power is either blind or incompetent, and Dumbledore won't tell me anything."

Lettie arched a brow. "So you give up?"

Harry's jaw tightened. "Of course not."

Lettie smirked slightly. Good.

"Well, then," she said, stepping closer, "maybe it's time we started fixing things ourselves."

Harry's eyes narrowed, but there was something else behind them now.

Interest. Hope.

"...You really want to help?"

Lettie nodded. "I do."

For the first time, Harry truly looked at her.

And just like that, the beginnings of a new alliance were formed.

Lettie slipped into the Room of Requirement later that night, expecting it to be empty.

Instead, she found Fred Weasley sprawled on a couch, tossing a golden Snitch between his fingers.

He smirked lazily. "You're late."

Lettie rolled her eyes, striding over to him. "I didn't know we had plans."

Fred grinned. "We always have plans."

Lettie settled beside him, watching the Snitch flit between his fingers. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, obviously."

Lettie gave him a dry look, but the warmth in her chest betrayed her.

Fred studied her, expression turning serious. "You've been distracted lately."

Lettie sighed. "I've been... researching."

Fred raised a brow. "Sounds dangerous."

Lettie smirked. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Fred shifted closer, the space between them disappearing. "Maybe," he murmured, voice lower now.

Lettie's breath hitched slightly as his fingers brushed over hers, slow and teasing.

She should have pulled away.

She didn't.

Instead, she leaned in, closing the space entirely—
"Finally."

They broke apart as George's voice rang through the room.

Lettie groaned, while Fred simply grinned, completely unbothered.

"George," Lettie drawled, giving him a sharp look. "Do you ever knock?"

George smirked. "It's the Room of Requirement. It lets me in when I need to be here. And apparently, I needed to be here to witness this."

Lettie shot Fred a glare, but he just slung an arm around her shoulders. "Well, at least we don't have to hide anymore."

Lettie huffed, but her lips curled slightly.

She really hated how much she liked him.