Fred Weasley woke up with a start. He looked over at his alarm clock which glowed green: It was 1.05am.
He got up and moved blindly to the door, slowly finding his way and his eyesight. He opened the door to the living room and switched on the light. He winced as the bright light gleamed across his face. As his eyes got used to the light he moved to the kitchen, his feet softly walking on the carpeted floor.
He opened the bottom fridge door, crouched down and searched the contents of it. There was firewhiskey and butterbeer but he couldn’t get to sleep with those. There was nothing else apart from milk and water- and milk made him drowsy, so milk it was.
He grabbed a long glass and poured himself a drink. He placed the milk back where he found it. He’d need to make sure he or George went shopping sometime soon.
He drained the glass and left it in the washing pile- he’d clean it out in the morning. He was about to go back to bed when he heard her shout.
“Fred!” he heard Rachel shout out, frightened.
He ran to her room, burst through the door and caught her in his arms. He cradled her in silence for a few minutes, entwined in each others arms on the covers of her bed.
“Breathe,” he instructed quietly in her ear- hers was rapid, “Breathe with me.” He breathed deliberately, slowly and deeply, and she copied him, feeling him breathe within his chest against her own- calming her down.
“What was it?” he asked, stroking the back of her hair in a comforting manner.
“Bad dream,” she mumbled into his chest, her voice reverberated into his torso making him feel warm where her mouthed moved against his skin.
He chuckled. “That all?”
She nodded, making a small ‘hm’ sound.
“What was it about?” he whispered against her forehead.
“There was a snake behind this girl and a man distracting her so the snake could hurt her and it kept on getting near her, the man was controlling it, but the girl was getting closer to the snake all the time but she keeps on looking in a mirror that’s show the snake behind her but it hides out of view. When she does and eventually she sees it and it starts curling around her and- and that’s when I woke up…” she finished lamely, thinking her dream wasn’t as bad as she had originally thought.
“There are worse things than that,” he said, comforting her.
“I know,” she said cutting into his sentence, “I’ve dreamed of that as well.”
“What else did you dream?” he asked, trying to stop her thinking of it and explain it away.
“It’s stupid,” she mumbled, shaking her head.
“No, it’s not,” he said, soothing her, “Tell me what it is... please?”
“You and George are being mean to me,” she said, “There you go it’s stupid.”
“Rachel, me and George wouldn’t dare hurt you…”
“I know, but when I dream it- It’s like you both hate me and I’d hate it if you hated me…” she leant into his shoulder and he rubbed her back relaxingly.
“I could never hate you and I don’t know about George,” she let out a small laugh, “But I’d bet he’d say the same.” He felt her smile against his collarbone.
“Nothing can hurt you here,” he said adding on in his thought that he wouldn’t let it.
She sighed and let go of him. He scooted back and she saw him properly for the first time. He wasn’t wearing much- scratch that he was only wearing just-above-the-knee-length grey boxers and he looked… well… good and there was no denying that. She had never seen him like that before. His torso was fully displayed in the light seeping through the door- his chest was toned from his quiditch days but not over done on his tall, slightly thin frame and his hair, which almost dipped in front of his eyes, was brushed away from them to show the sparkle in his eyes that lit up when he smiled.
He didn’t seem to note the fact that she was staring at him with any looks of longing- he just summoned a drink and put it beside her bed, on the drawers.
He stayed with her until she went to sleep and left he her like that as he went to go back to sleep himself- seeing her lying still had made him feel peaceful again.
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