This chapter is dedicated to 0-MischiefManaged-0 because she gave me the review that motivated me to write the rest!

So thak you for that!

Hope it lives up to your expectations and I will update again soon. :D

Aargon. Hmmm… I walk outside and turn on my heels. A suffocating sensation later I'm standing in an almost empty street and the wind is blowing hard. I look around and everything is closed. Everybody has shut their windows tightly and drawn their curtains. The shops are closed and lights are off. Only a few street lights are on. I look into the distance and see a two story building with lights still on. Seems like a bar. Just then the first few snowflakes start to fall and I start to walk quickly toward it.

I hesitate before pushing the door open. It creaks loudly, alerting the two people sitting inside of my entrance. The bartender is pouring out firewhisky for the cloaked customer sitting in front of him. They look at me suspiciously.

'Hi. I'm looking for Fred Weasley?' I look at them hopefully but their face shows no sign of recognition.

'Sorry lady. Don't know anybody by that name. Would you like a room though? We're almost out so pick fast.' Says the bartender. 'You cant go home in that storm. Even the floo network will be blocked.'

Damn you Fred, I think angrily. 'No I would just like to know if you have seen Fred. Red hair, scar on eyebrow. Umm… owner of a joke shop?' I try desperately.

'Oh him!' the bartender laughs. 'Yep we got him. He is staying in one of the rooms. Room 7, miss. He was too drunk to go home.'

Relief floods through me. And anger. But mostly relief on him being okay. As okay as a drunk person could be. I thank them and run up the staircase and search for the right room. I finally find a door with a rusted number seven stuck to it. I hesitate before knocking. I wait but he doesn't open. 'Fred?' I call out but there is no response. I turn the knob and open the door. He is lying on the bed, legs hanging off the bed. I close the door. 'Fred.' I murmur, sitting beside him, his eyelashes are resting peacefully on his pale cheeks. His shirt is half undone and his lips are slightly blue. Damn he must be cold. I point my wand at the fireplace and it starts to crackle merrily. I suddenly realize I left the warm clothes at Tom's bar.

'Fred wake up.' I shake him by the shoulder. I take his hands in mine and rub his palms to warm them. 'Fred please…' i shake him more vigorously, terrified by the thought of something happening to him. What if he had passed out because of the cold? Suddenly his eye lids flutter open and he turns his head to look at me. 'Oh thank God!' I say and throw my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder. 'I thought you were sick.'

'Juliet…' he says with a slight slur in his voice. I sit back up, anger coming back to me.

'And you're drunk.' I say tonelessly. His eyes widen as he tries to sit up. I get up and pace the room. 'I was so worried. And you were lying here drunk?!' I yell. He gets up and I turn away from him, hurt. 'Forget it.' I say quietly, tears welling up in my eyes.

'Juliet listen to me…' he says, taking my arm and turning me around by my arm. 'Please don't cry…' he whispers and cups my face with his hands gently. 'Listen.' He slurs. 'It... It was just one Firewhisky. I swear that was all I meant to have. Because I was cold. Really cold.' His pleading eyes look into mine and he runs his thumb across my cheek. 'And I got up to leave but Aaron came in. And… And he didn't… know… Juliet… He asked me… about him…' his eyes well up and he closes them, taking a deep breath to steady himself. A sob escapes his lips and he buries his face in the hollow of my neck. 'Please Juliet, I'm sorry.'

'Its okay,' I whisper, hugging him. A funny fluttering feeling in my tummy makes me uncomfortable and nervous. He cries silently for a few minutes as I wipe away his tears and his sobs quieten and I run my fingers through his hair. Soon he is breathing evenly and I can tell he has fallen asleep.

I miss you Fred.

I miss your laugh.

I miss the annoying smirk that touched your lips when you managed to pull yet another prank on me.

I miss the stories you would tell me about the strange things around the world.

I miss your hugs.

I miss the way you would bite your lip when George or I were angry at you.

The endless time spent laughing over everything that moved.

The delight on your face every time you would open the brown parcel and a Weasley sweater would tumble out.

The twinkle in your eyes.

I miss the way we would fight and make up in a matter of minutes.

The concern in your eyes when I got my heart broken. That anger.

The comforting murmurs in the dark.

I miss that smile. The one that would make everything better.

Fred… I miss you.

'I love you, Fred.' I whisper, clutching him closer, trying to fill that devoid in my heart, the longing for the old Fred. The one who had the ability to catch me every time I fell. To hold me steady every time I would be on the edge.

'I love you too, Juliet.' He whispers back and I suppress my surprise but my cheeks become warm.

'I mean… I…' I pause, struggling for the right words.

'I know what you mean,' he says and lifts his head slightly, touching his lips to my cheek. They linger for only a moment before he buries his face back into my neck and closes his eyes. His arms tighten around me.

'I thought you were asleep,' I whisper, as I feel my heartbeat quicken.

'Shh.' He says and flicks his wand once. The soft blanket covers us and soon I start feeling drowsy and at home in his arms.

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