To Be Alone
A One-Shot
Fred Fabian Weasley walked down the corridor, his face red. Anger was bubbling up in his mind, and felt like kicking something. He felt like destroying whatever came in his path. He didn't mind a detention, or weeks of it, at all.
Life was just so..unfair. What could he say? Just being named after one of the greatest pranksters in Hogwarts history didn't make him one. And being the so-called best friend of a practical joker didn't make him one either.
He couldn't understand what it was with the people. And by people, he really meant it. Many people. First, his father. George Weasley owned the world-famous joke shop Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and wanted Fred to continue the work. When he had gotten to know that his son didn't prank at school, George had been all disappointed.
Normal fathers became happy if they got to know that their son was a decent boy, not a prankster. But then again, who could call George Weasley a normal father? He had been thoroughly shot down when he had discovered that neither of his children were mischief-makers.
At least Fred's mother was on his side. She had said that his father was just crestfallen that no one could carry on the legacy. Nobody denied that he had taken his father's genes when it came to looks, but Fred's behaviour and way of mind were more like his mother's. He was more of the joke appreciators than the jokers.
And then there was James. James Sirius Potter, oh yes. The aforementioned so-called best friend of Fred's. If there was someone who had gone after their namesake, it was he. He'd even founded the Modern Marauders, a pranking group.
But did James really value Fred? Who knew. They were cousins and had been friends practically since birth: they had been born just a month apart, Fred being older. But these days it was as if Fred was someone who did not matter to James, someone whom he took for granted.
James had been hanging out more and more with the Wood twins these days. Darrell and Daniel. They were the people who James obviously preferred, being real jokers after all. It was just not fair. He had been with James for so many years, and fourth year was not a time to choose a new group of friends.
Oh, and who could forget Spellworth? Professor Spellworth, who was the new Charms teacher at Hogwarts, seemed to loathe Fred with a passion. He was a stout man with a round face, but only Godric knew why he was the Hufflepuff head of house. Spellworth picked on Fred every opportunity he got.
But today had been the height of it all.
James, along with Darrell and Daniel, had planned a trick to play on the Charms professor. They had a charmed chalk from WWW, which forced the holder into writing rubbish. The chalk had apparently made Spellworth write 'I must not look like a baboon's back side' on the blackboard. This had angered him immensely, and he had vowed to get to the bottom of the case. Eventually he found a WWW sticker on the chalk, which said it was a product invented by Fred's Uncle Ron.
So, prejudiced that he was, Spellworth had set Fred on probation for the rest of the year, and had made him a list of detentions that he had to take everyday till the end of the term.
Fred looked up from his thoughts to see himself walking down a corridor on the seventh floor. He thought he heard Filch's voice, but maybe it was just an illusion. It was funny how being invisible made him shortsighted.
He had learned the Disillusionment Charm because James always refused to let him borrow the Cloak of Invisibility. Though the charm was weak, at least it protected him from prefects and other people on nighttime wanderings.
Fred saw a picture of who was it- Ballymbus the Brawny? Ballymbus was trying to teach trolls how to dance, but it was a large flop, judging by the trolls' faces. Fred leaned on the wall, thinking. What he needed was a place full of objects on which he could exert his anger...he needed a place to be alone.
That was when he saw it. Fred opened his eyes, still on thoughts, and almost fell over because of the sight he saw. When he had arrived in the corridor, he was sure that there hadn't been a large wrought iron door with beautiful decorations..no, the wall opposite Ballymbus's picture had been empty.
Fred looked around to ensure that there was nobody there. He knew what Grandad Weasley always said, to not trust anything which could work on its own if he couldn't see where it kept its brain. But that didn't matter now, curiosity was getting the better of Fred.
He pushed the door open, and found himself in a room full of ornate and beautiful glass objects. Fred looked around, confused; hadn't he been wanting a place full of breakable objects? Happy, he took the nearest vase and flung it over to the wall. The case shattered instantly, and somehow the noise it made had calmed Fred down a bit.
He kept throwing stuff at the wall until he couldn't anymore, and until he had calmed down. Fred now wanted a place to sit, to be alone..
It was like this room could read his thoughts. The pieces of broken glass disappeared, and the whole pieces too vanished. Fred blinked, now he was standing in a room with pleasing lime green walls, and a matching green couch was lying in the centre of the room. There was an oak table in front of the couch, on which there were few books with dull covers.
Fred walked over to the couch and dropped himself on it. Then he checked out the titles of the books: he doubted even his cousin Rose had heard of them before. It was clear from the covers that they were Muggle novels. There was a book called 'King Lear' and a book called 'The Taming of the Shrew'. They were all written by a man by the name of William Shakespeare.
Fred curled up on the couch and turned to the first page of The Taming of the Shrew, and read till he fell asleep on the couch. His last thought was: what fun it is, to be alone!
A/N: Fred Weasley is shown in different light. How was this new portrayal? You need to tell me! So review! Any suggestions to edit this story are welcome. Lastly, this was written for NeverBeenMarked's The Room of Requirement Challenge, and was one of my worst one-shots. And that's saying something.
I don't own Fred Weasley the Second, Roxanne Weasley, Angelina Weasley, George Weasley, Ron Weasley or James Potter the Second. I just own some of their personalities, Professor Spellworth, and the Wood twins. Neither do I own the Taming of the Shrew and King Lear, even though I wish I did. Shakespeare is great.
The Room of Requirement belongs to ole Miss Rowling.