Author's Note: So this will pretty much be the only Harry Potter fic on my profile, as I'm not really into writing for this fandom much anymore, but I found this short [three chapters] story all finished in an old note book and figured I could publish it. I thought that later on someday when I'm bored I could go through and actually make it better, as I'm pretty sure it was written like three or four years ago when my hormones were basically in control. Anyway, enjoy what I've got [the other two chapters will be uploaded as well, so if you like it, don't panic that there's only one chapter].
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter series is not mine.
The band of gold that encircled Riley's ring finger seemed to burn. She stared at it with loathing. How she had allowed herself to marry Fred Weasley was beyond her. Riley didn't much care for Fred—the other Weasley's were perfectly fine—but Fred, not so much. He seemed arrogant and full of himself. George, who was actually one of Riley's close friends, said he was just very sure of himself. Riley had attempted to believe George, but every time Fred came along, it was the same old line. She knew George was kind, sweet, and shy around the girls he liked. And she knew Fred was a player. George had admitted it when he was sitting by himself one evening in the common room. "If he stopped working his way through the girls of Gryffindor, them maybe we could begin to seriously think about opening our joke shop!" he had ranted to her.
Not only was she close friends with the majority of the Weasley's, but her mother, Sheryl, and Molly Weasley had been best mates since their days at Hogwarts. Riley knew they would be disappointed greatly with what their children had got into. She could remember last night clearly, as if it were any other day and she hadn't been giddy with the sickly-sweet smell and taste of firewhiskey. The common room was full of students drinking it. Hermione, always the responsible one, was already conjuring potions for her friends the next morning. Ron was chuckling beside her. "C'mon 'Mione! Lighten up and join the fun!" But Hermione just looked at him reproachfully and replied, "No thank you, Ronald."
Harry and the Quidditch team had retreated to the library, not wanting to have to play the next day's game with a hangover. Well, most of the Quidditch team, anyway. The twins had refused to miss out on the fun and were dancing around wildly by the fireplace.
Sometime ago in the night, Fred and Riley had begun stealing glances at each other. Now Riley beckoned Fred over and he grinned slyly, making his way across the room. He didn't wait for a greeting, nor did he offer one. He just grabbed her waist, pulled her to him and crashed his lips down on hers.
After a few more butterbeers—and a great deal more snogging—Fred said, "You know Riley, I do believe we should get married."
"I think that's a splendid idea," Riley had agreed.
So arm in arm, Fred marched her to Hogsmeade and wed.
Riley shook her head. She was now sitting in a stiff chair next to a rather charming gargoyle-ish statue with Fred in an identical chair next to her. She buried her face in her hands. "How, how, how?" she hissed to herself.
Fred laughed and bitterly said, "Don't worry honey." Fred had never been able to get on with Riley either.
She glared at him. "Oh, I'm not worried dear," she replied. "I'm just mad I married such an arse."
Fred was about to yell back when Dumbledore appeared beside them. "Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley," he nodded at them, smiling to himself.
Riley groaned. "Please don't call me that."
"That is your name, though, is it not?" Dumbledore inquired.
"I don't want it," Riley grumbled.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, if you two would please join me, your parents are up in my office." He pointed to the stairs that spiraled upward. "Come along please."
Riley glared at her ring once more before following Dumbledore and Fred. When they reached the landing, Riley looked through the door nervously. Her parents and the Weasley's were seated near Dumbledore's desk. In between the couples were a pair of chairs, to which Dumbledore gestured and requested that they take a seat.
With their parents looking at them in such anger and disapproval, neither of the young adults dared to disagree.
"Now," Dumbledore began. "Your parents and I have already discussed your predicament and what we are going to do."
"Divorce, right?" Fred spoke up.
Dumbledore laughed quietly. "No, no, you two will remain married."
"Excuse me?" Riley shrieked, then turned to her parents. "But we're of age! You can't force us to stay married."
"With the bonding charm we used you have no choice," Riley's father, Derrick, raged.
"Bonding charm?" Fred asked, looking to his parents.
Molly nodded, her face red with anger. "You two have made a big decision and we, as your parents, have chosen for you both to live with it!"
"Dears," Riley's mother tried to soothe them. "This is for the best."
"Oh yeah, sure, I forgot! You and Molly are best friends. You've probably been somehow planning this!"
"Mrs. Weasley! Please, calm down." Dumbledore said.
Riley turned on him, but was unable to yell at the old man. She was near tears, so she whispered. "Please, don't call me that."
School was out for the summer. Riley hadn't seen Fred since he and George flew away in a flurry of fireworks. She was perfectly fine with that, too. She had only wished she had escaped Umbridge's wrath, as well. Riley flexed her left hand, on which the words "I am now Fred Weasley's" were scarred into the skin.
Most of the teachers at Hogwarts had continued calling Riley by her maiden name. All of the teachers but Umbridge, that is, who delighted in tormenting her students. Riley had refused to respond to "Mrs. Weasley" and had flipped Umbridge the bird, resulting in a detention filled with the writing of lines.
But now Riley was headed toward Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, her mouth in a tight line. She crossed her arms defiantly and began to speak. "I can't believe you're making me go through with this, mum."
"Go through with what?" Sheryl asked innocently.
"Um, let's see…marriage."
"Riley, Fred is a lovely young man."
"You're only saying that because Molly's your best friend."
"No, I'm not! And I know for a fact that she thinks you are a lovely young woman."
As they rounded a corner, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes loomed before them. "Oh, Merlin, I'm married to a joke shop owner," Riley muttered. Sheryl hit her in the arm.
"SHERYL!" someone shouted. Riley looked up to see a round woman with bright ginger hair rush towards them.
Sheryl's face lit up as she responded with an equally girlish: "Molly!"
For a few minutes the two talked about how the boys' store had boomed overnight. Soon enough though, they got down to business. "Now dear," Mrs. Weasley began, resting her hand on Riley's shoulder. "Your mother and I have arranged for you to stay with Fred and George in their flat upstairs."
"Joy," Riley said, completely dead-pan.
"I'll go get Fred!" cried Sheryl. "He doesn't know either."
Riley and Mrs. Weasley watched Sheryl bound towards the counter at the back of the door. Molly looked at Riley and began to speak. "I hope you know that your mother and I would never put you through anything we thought you couldn't handle."
Riley smiled weakly, "Thanks."
Sheryl showed up, dragging a forlorn Fred behind her. "Shall we go see you room?" Molly suggested.
Fred and Riley looked at her. "Only one room?" Fred inquired.
"Yes," Molly replied curtly. "One. Room. Married couples share rooms." And she bustled toward the stairs, the others following.
Fred's room had been magiked to now sport a king size bed and a larger chest of drawers so that Riley's belongings could also fit. "Well, I for one am not sleeping in the same bed as you," Fred told his wife.
"Fine! Then go sleep on the couch!" Riley yelled, making a run for the bed.
Fred reached the bed at the same time and they both jumped to the middle.
"Get out!" Riley shouted, attempting to shove Fred. His muscular body didn't move. She hit him in the chest.
"Abusive relationship!" Fred joked.
Riley scowled and hit him again.
"Okay, stop hitting me," Fred said. When she made to hit him again, he grabbed her wrists.
Riley tried to kick him, but Fred climbed on top of her, holding her hands above her head.
"Geroff!" Riley grunted.
"No." Fred refused. "You're just going to hit me again."
"Or kick you."
"Exactly."
"I hate you, Fred."
"Really? 'Cause I think your hate might just be your burning passion for me," Fred suggested.
"Oh my God, you are so full of yourself!" Riley screamed.
Fred rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on her wrists. He lowered his face closer to hers. "Oh come off it. You can't possibly tell me you don't remember our, er, wedding night. Even in our drunken state."
"Drunken state is precisely it! We were drunk."
Fred cocked an eyebrow and inched closer to Riley's face. "Fred, I swear to Merlin, if you kiss me—"
"Hmm," Fred interrupted. "What a wonderful idea."
"FRE—!"
Riley squeaked as Fred's lips met hers. She gasped, opening her mouth slightly. Fred ran his tongue across her bottom lip and she opened her mouth wider. He slipped his tongue swiftly in, Riley's breathing becoming ragged as Fred moved his hands down her body.
She tangled her finger into his hair, pulling even closer. One of his hands was at the back of her neck, securing her face to his; the other was at her hip, holding her firmly beneath him. She moaned as Fred nipped her lip.
The door creaked open and they sprang apart, breathing heavily. "Hey, Fred, do you still have—oh," George finally looked up, seeing the two of them in their bed, hardly breathing. "I'll just, uh, go, er, read a book!" Then he slammed the door and shuffled off.
Riley and Fred looked at each other cautiously. "I think I'm gonna go sleep on the couch," he suggested.
"Yeah," Riley whispered in agreement.
The next morning, Riley woke to the slam of drawers. She opened her eyes, watching Fred angrily slam them shut. "What is your problem?" she yelled.
"Mum talked to George and I this morning," Fred began explaining, continuing to slam drawers. "Apparently, we are to hire you at our store."
"I don't want to work here!"
"Well, I don't want you working here either!" Fred spun around to glare at her. Riley eyed him right back. "But, I have no choice it seems. And your mother is waiting downstairs." He went back to slamming drawers as Riley headed out of the room.
"'Lo Riley," George greeted her in the kitchen.
"Hey George," she replied, sitting across from him.
"Your mum's downstairs," he said through a mouthful of egg.
Riley giggled, "So I heard; see ya later, George."
George nodded and went back to his food.
As the twins had said, Sheryl was waiting for Riley in the store. "Mum." Riley said flatly.
"Oh, hello honey," Sheryl said, turning to face her daughter.
"Why are you doing this? Seriously, I can get a job myself I'm sure," Riley told her mother.
"Oh, I know, Molly and I just feel that maybe you two will get closer if you have the same job," Sheryl explained her logic.
"Mum, that's ridiculous and you know it."
"Just give it a shot," her mother scowled at her, leaving without a good-bye.
Riley huffed back up the stairs. Fred had replaced George's spot at the table. She sat across from him and spoke. "Fred, you don't like me, and I don't like you—"
"Hear, hear," Fred interjected.
Riley grimaced and continued. "So maybe you shouldn't schedule us at the same times—"
"As if I hadn't thought of that already," Fred murmured.
"It was only a suggestion, how was I to know you had supposedly already thought of it," Riley pushed back from the table, leaving Fred to his toast.
She walked into their room, then into the attached bathroom, locking the door behind her. She sat on the toilet seat and buried her face in her hands, sighing heavily. How had this happened? This was not how she ever imagined her life to turn out. She wanted to travel, not stay cooped up in a joke shop with a husband who hated her. And she hated him. Maybe. Riley didn't know anymore. She couldn't get Fred out of her head. Every time she looked at him she thought of the night in Hogsmeade; and when he wasn't with her she still thought of him. About his ginger hair; about his sly smile; about the way he made her so mad.
There was a knock on the door and Riley looked up to see Fred come in and stand across from her. She opened her mouth, but Fred put his hand up to stop her. "You really thought locking the door was going to stop me?" he asked, adding that sly smile of his.
She grinned back at him. "I was hoping," she admitted.
Fred laughed. He looked at her, perched on the toilet seat, head resting in her hand. Then he noticed the scars etched on her skin. He furrowed his brow. "What is that?"
"Oh, it's just from those horrible quills," Riley said, trying to cover the writing.
"What's it say?"
"Nothing--"
But Fred grabbed her hand to see. When he was finished reading, he looked at her hazel eyes, which at the moment were avoiding his. "Why do you hate being a Weasley so much?" he asked, pain audible in his voice.
"It's not being a Weasley that I dislike so much," Riley whispered, not meeting Fred's eyes.
"It's me," Fred let go of her hand and looked away.
"You're just so full of yourself all the time! You don't even think about how George feels half the time when you run off with some new girl," Riley blurted.
Fred's face was burning red. "Oh, I see how it is." Clearly he had taken Riley's outburst in the wrong way.
"Oh, no, no! I don't like George like that," Riley defended herself.
"Really? Then who do you like like that 'cause--"
Fred was caught off guard. Riley had lunged forward and pressed her lips to his. She couldn't take it anymore, him just standing there, hair still ruffled from sleeping on the couch the previous night. He grabbed onto the shower knob to keep from falling, sending a spray of warm water down on them before he could get control of the liquid.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, backing up a few feet. "Are you okay?"
Fred pulled her close and replied, "I'm doing pretty fine." He closed the distance between them, setting his lips on hers.
Riley smiled into the kiss. His hands moved to the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head. "Hey--" she began to protest, but Fred's smirk stopped her.
"As you wish," he grinned, removing his shirt as well.
They were laying in their bed, Riley with her head resting on Fred's chest. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "I've got to go to work," he whispered into her hair.
"You sure about that?" Riley teased.
"Well…" Fred smirked, then kissed her softly on the lips. She smiled as she watched him get dressed. "See you tonight," he winked and left the room.
Riley lay back down, reliving the morning. After they had finished in the shower, they had headed into he bedroom, fully intending on getting dressed. But Fred suggested, "What do you say to repeating our scandalous activities?" and all was lost.
Riley stretched, got dressed, and began in the direction of the kitchen.
Fred had just left his and his wife's bedroom when he encountered his brother in the kitchen.
"Aren't you glad I made you go talk to her?" George laughed. "Having a bit of fun were you?"
"Why shouldn't I have fun?" Fred replied, irritated.
"I'm not saying you shouldn't have fun. I'm just saying, it's sort of a relief you had some, er, fun with Riley," George answered awkwardly. "It's good to know you guys finally realized you actually do like each other."
"I don't like her," Fred lied, not ready to come to terms with what he felt. "I was just…frustrated! I haven't been with a girl since I married her, that's all it was! It's not like it meant anything."
But George wasn't looking at him anymore. Fred glanced over his shoulder to where his brother's gaze had fallen, and there, in the doorway, was Riley.
Author's Note: Oh Fred, hell hath no fury like a bitter and hurt Riley. So, that's the first chapter of three. Feel free to review. I plan on possibly rewriting this story, or leaving it as it is, the way I wrote it all those years ago. Thanks for reading!