Disclaimer:I do not own Fred Wealsey or the universe of Harry Potter. Everything you recognise is the property of the beautiful JKR. I only own the plotline and Isabelle Parker and my OC's.

Rating:T

Word Count: 908

Summary:Sometimes when two people fall for each other, it's either too early or it's too late but then there's this one fleeting moment where the timing is just right. Fred Weasley has been in love with his best friend for years. Their love was either supposed to overcome all the evil that surrounded Isabelle's life or they weren't meant to be. So which one is it?

Warnings: Frequent mild-language.

Ships: Fred Weasley/Isabelle Parker (OC of mine).

Beta: No, all the mistakes you may find are simply my own. I do not have a Beta, nor will I ever have one. I'd like one but I doubt I'd find one so I'm just going to continue writing my stories in peace and not wait on a Beta that will probably never come.

A/N: This is a rewrite of my very first fanfiction! xo

My Cure

Prologue

The birds were singing and such a beautiful tone it was too. The birds always seemed like they were singing to Isabelle Parker. She sent them a fleeting smile before she glanced back down towards her sketching book. She moved her penicil lightly on and off the paper as sketched the birds and the scenery that accompanied them. She sat on one of the highest branches of one of the trees.

One of her legs were swinging back and forth ever-so-slightly and the other was crossed underneath her on the branch. This had been Isabelle's favourite spot since she first discovered it in her first year here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Nobody really ever knew she came up here except maybe her best friend, Fred Weasley. They had known each other since they were six and that was one of Isabelle's most cherished memories.

…

The wind blew in the little girl's dark, brown hair as she sat quietly, sketching the landscape. An awkward and shy 'hi' interrupted her sense of peace. She looked up and hazel eyes met chocolate brown. There was a boy that looked to be about six who had wild, red hair. He cleared his throat, a sign that he was nervous.

There was a silence that passed them as they stared at one another.

"I…I'm Fred," he introduced after several silent moments. The girl flashed him a small smile, "Isabelle," she said. Fred stood awkwardly for a few more seconds until Isabelle's eyes widened, "Oh!" She laughed a bit to herself, "Silly me," she mumbled before patting the spot beside her. Fred nodded and sat down, he still looked nervous and he had a twinge of pink colouring his cheeks.

Perhaps his blush simply stood out among his bright, red hair.

"W-What are you drawing?"

Isabelle smiled kindly at him, "Birds, animals, the landscape – anything, really," she said. Fred nodded, "Cool…can I have a look?" Isabelle nodded and passed over her book. She'd never shown her sketch book to anybody before but she didn't even need to hesitate to pass it to him. She had never even shown her father. It wasn't something she felt comfortable with. Sketching seemed to calm Isabelle and give her a sense of happiness. She only ever showed her mother her drawings.

Somehow she felt like she could trust this Fred kid until of course he gave her a reason not to.

…

Isabelle was in deep thought as she remembered one of her happier memories. She did not hear any kind of sound but now she certainly felt the poking in her sides. She groaned out of discomfort and she wiggled around a bit. She heard a familiar chuckle but she did not bother to look because why should she? She knew that laugh anywhere.

"'Ello Bella," came the familiar, deep drawl of her best friend. Isabelle still did not acknowledge his presence and so he continued. "Hello," he yelled but still received no response. "Hey, you ignoring me now," he smirked because he picked off one of the leave and then turned to her, an evil glint in his eyes. He began to tickle her face. "Wake up," he screamed not that he believed she was sleeping.

It wasn't every day that you heard that but it was normal when it concerned Isabelle and her best friend. Isabelle turned to him, trying not to laugh. She held her ground. "Freddie!" She laughed, "That it's Mister! I'm getting you back," she laughed a little more. Fred Weasley climbed down the tree as fast as his long legs would take him. He had joined the Gryffindor Quidditch Team four years ago and he was pretty fast to say the least. He was fast but Isabelle was equally as fast. She caught up to him in no time. She had thrown her sketch pad underneath the tree for safe keepings while she laughed and ran after the boy who never failed to get her to smile.

The moment Isabelle caught up to him he began to tickle her once more and she couldn't help the laughs that escaped her. The moment she finally escaped from his grip she took off. She ran and it seemed as if she was running for a long time but in reality, it wasn't long at all. She felt arms wrap around her middle as if it was a perfect fit. She wasn't too skinny nor was she too big. His arms wrapped around her easily enough, firmly and protectively.

They fitted perfectly.

Fred let gravity pull him towards the ground as he dragged her down with him. The grass was soft and inviting. Their laughter rang around and it was the only thing they could really hear. The birds were long forgotten because they knew whenever Fred made an appearance it was best to leave. They had flown away at once not that the two of them really minded.

They both began to calm down, their harsh breathing was all that could be heard. Fred's arms didn't loosen their hold on her, if anything, they tightened. Isabelle always felt safe in his presence like nothing could touch her or them. The world ceased to exist when it was just them.

They just breathed in each other's scent as they laid there, forgetting the world.

Isabelle Parker had always loved the way her best friend, Fred Weasley, smelt.