So, you want to know about me? Fred Weasley, twin…pardon, ex-twin of George Weasley? Yes, that's right—ex-twin; I disowned him when he gave up our lifelong dreams for a minimum wage job and a bloody woman.

Now, don't get me wrong, I enjoy the company of women just as much as the next bloke. But marrying one of them? It'll snow in August before that happens.

Mum is already on her last wit; she's already set me up with a score of "nice girls, the kind to settle down with". So that's why I'm writing this note. I am doing the gentlemanly thing and warning you beforehand that I'm not looking for a serious relationship or a bundle of screaming kids.

Respectfully Yours,

Fred Weasley

An amused smirk played on her face as she set his letter aside. Fred Weasley, prankster of Hogwarts, was trying to 'spare her feelings'. It was actually quite endearing, in a childish sort of way. He seemed to respect women enough (or had a big enough ego) to warn them of his rakish ways. But no matter, it would work out in her favor whether he wanted it to or not. All odds were in her favor.

Fred had never given her a second glance at Hogwarts but it was through no fault of his. She would concede, she was nothing much to look at back then. She had been rather heavyset, short mousey-brown hair, a slight slump and two strong fists that doled out punishments to her fellow classmates (whether they needed it or not).

Truly, her parents had been the cause of it. Rebelling against their views of the sweet, petite daughter they had wanted was the only option she had for survival. Sadly, she was their only child and bore the sole responsibility of carrying heirs…heirs that bore the family name. Legitimately speaking, her parents ought to have been outraged at even the slightest hint of bastard children but instead they pressed her to become pregnant while still at school. She was their only hope for carrying the Bulstrode name…but Millicent had bigger dreams.

She did not want to waste away at home becoming large with some unnamed man's child like her parents wanted. She wanted to be a writer and, after much hard work and determination, a writer she became.

When most children were in Hogsmeade buying the latest trick from Zonko's or sipping butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, Millicent was sneaking into the office of Augustus Flint, a very wealthy backer of the Daily Prophet. Though he was a cold, stern man he appreciated good writing and helped her publish articles under the alias Marlene Braedenstock.

There were a handful of stupid children who questioned her disappearance and followed her. However, with Millicent's promiscuous reputation (that was completely unfounded, she would add), those who learned of her whereabouts assumed that she was a mistress of Augustus'; and knowing of the Flints' reputation for punishing those who interfered in their business, no one dared say a word. Besides, no one believed that Millicent was anything but large and stupid; her reputation as a bully stayed intact through her entire Hogwarts career.

After graduating (and the gruesome downfall of Voldemort), Millicent no longer had to fear the watchful eyes of her parents. They had been among the first death eaters to be executed at Azkaban. With the help of a dying Augustus Flint, she began a day job at the Daily Prophet while she sought to publish her novels.

In that time she also lost the weight that had made her look so formidable (and unattractive) in school. With painstaking care she made herself into a completely different, prettier person. She let her dark hair grow out to her shoulders and cropped her bangs to sweep into her sandy hazel eyes. No longer was she chubby and plain; she was quite beautiful.

And, after a chance meeting with Molly Weasley at the Hog's Head, she had set her sights on one, Fred Weasley, joker extraordinaire.

Millicent had been turning in an editorial on the widows and widowers of the Great War to her boss when Molly Weasley happened to glimpse at it. The two had immediately hit it off; Molly Weasley was more than happy to have a female to talk to.

They chatted all about the latest fashions, what needed to be done in the ministry and, of course, Molly's many children. She talked at length about how Charlie was married to a nice Romanian girl, Bill was expecting his fourth daughter in two months, Percy had sadly passed away, George had fallen in love with Percy's old flame Penelope Clearwater with whom he had a young son, Ron had a steady girlfriend who he was expected to propose to any day now; even her youngest, Ginny, was recently married to, shockingly, Draco Malfoy. The only single man in her brood was Fred, Molly had sighed heavily.

Molly recanted to Millicent that she had set Fred up with every nice girl she could think of: Margie Kennedy, Delilah Parkinson (a distant cousin of Pansy's), Sarah Pruett, Eleni Marcus and the list went on indefinitely. But even through all of needling and less-than-subtle hints to settle down, Fred had only blown off his mother and her collection of nice young ladies in favor of a dishonorable crowd of louts and whores.

The story of Fred Weasley had given Millicent the idea for her novel: the devilishly handsome, rakish bachelor meets his match in a shy, quiet writer that nobody would've suspected as a smoldering temptress.

Okay, so maybe Millicent Bulstrode would never be a smoldering temptress…but as soon as she had the experience to work from, she could sell a bestselling novel! Writers always wrote best about what they knew, Augustus Flint had told her. But as a twenty-six year old virgin, she didn't know as much as she would like about love and passion. Fred Weasley was a notorious womanizer (whether he tried to be or not) and it seemed to Millicent that he was just the man to teach her.

It was high time to learn.

A brown, spotted barn owl swooped down, dropping a letter in Fred Weasley's lap as he tried to read the Daily Prophet. He had been up all night tinkering with the latest trick to be sold at Zonko's (under his name of course) and could no longer focus on the paper. Tossing it aside, he gave the owl a gentle pat and broke the unfamiliar seal.

So, you think I'm like other girls? Mr. Weasley, you're quite mistaken. If you're interested in a good time, meet me at Zonko's in three days time. At noon, I'll come in and buy three toy wands and then promptly deposit them in the toy collection box for the Orphans of The Great War. If I don't see you, I'll assume your answer is no.

Until Then,

M.B

A playful smirk washed over Fred's face as he set the note down on his bedside table. Have fun, indeed! He would be there…maybe his mother had picked a winner this time. Maybe.