We Are Family

-Fred and Rose-

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Wedding Bell Blues

-May 2025

"Nervous?" she asked softly, coming up to stand beside her cousin as he fixes his tie in the mirror, sweat beading across his brow. For all she knew, it could just be the heat that's causing him to manifest the physical symptoms of anxiety, but of course, his impending nuptials may also have something to do with it.

"Is it that obvious?" Fred chuckled, half-heartedly and in a tone that lacked his usual energy. She frowned at him, he had been mad about Olivia Wood since their first year, pursuing the girl in the same way that James Potter had pursued Lily Evans . . . so why did her cousin look as though he had just swallowed a bludger?

"Some," she feigned a smile, drawing a handkerchief from her purse and wiping it across his brow, her brow furrowing as it came away stained a light tan.

"Are you using make-up?" she rolled her eyes at the guilty look in his. Ordinarily she would have laughed – today, she just swallowed her giggled and settled down in a nearby chair, staring at the large tent that had been erected in the backyard of the Burrow. Nana Molly had insisted that her grandchildren carry on the tradition of conducting their matrimonial vows at her family home – for her part, Rose would dearly love to see the look on her grandmother's face when one of her generation decided to host their wedding elsewhere.

"Just a little," Fred stuttered, "Roxanne insisted . . . and I want people's eyes to pop, OK?"

Rose should have laughed at that statement, but she didn't, even though it was so unusual to see Fred behave in such an amusing manner. To be sure, he was always funny – one could expect no less from the son of a Weasley Twin – but it was rarely at his own expense.

The mention of his sister, Roxanne, however, had been sufficient cause for her to purse her lips and glare out the window. Time had passed since the debacle with the Scamander twins, and though they said that time healed all rifts, they had been wrong.

The chasm between Roxy and Rose had only become wider with time, the situation not being helped in any way that Lysander – who had been hers – had since that day begun a romantic relationship with Roxy.

It was a constant thorn in her side, that the boy she had professed to love had abandoned her for her cousin after one, arguably a major, mistake on her part.

Nor did it help when Olivia had insisted that Rose be her maid-of-honour, and Roxy just stand as a bridesmaid. She didn't see why Roxy had been so offended by this, Rose and Olivia had been best friends and in the same house and year in Hogwarts, whilst Roxanne was such the sister of the groom.

Nevertheless, fault had been found, and Rose had been battling her cousin's icy glares the entire morning. Eventually, she had fled under the pretext of checking up on Fred, which had led her into the position she was in now.

"I don't blame you, Rose," sighed Fred, coming to sit beside her on the well worn couch, the pair of them watching their family rushing about with last minute preparations.

"Whatever do you mean?" she replied in a clipped tone, her glare powerful enough to curdle milk.

"You were all pissed drunk that night," he said, "James and I should have never helped Albus and Malfoy smuggle all that alcohol in from Hogsmeade but we never expected something like that to happen. But you were drunk – it wasn't your fault that you . . ." he trailed off, discomfort evident in his voice.

"That I shagged the wrong twin," Rose supplied sourly, clenching her fists so that her nails dug into her palms.

"Yes, that," continued Fred, still in that tone of discomfort and Rose understood it, no boy would want to hear about their female cousin's sex lives after all.

"What Roxy did was vindictive though, I won't deny it. But her actions are understandable as well. You hurt her in the worst way, and she lashed out and hurt you in the same way. Honestly, you two should just get over yourselves already – do either of you know how horrible it was for all of us to choose sides between the two of you when both of you were at fault?"

"I . . ."

But Fred spoke over her, his voice gaining strength as he went on, seemingly lifting a weight of a chest that even he hadn't been aware he had been holding.

"Look, I'll be the first to admit that my sister is a handful. And honestly, Hugo would say the same about you. But it's been two years and last I checked, neither of you are happy. You two are just being petty right now and it's time to bury the hatchet. And not in each other, either."

"I've tried, Fred," Rose stammered, at a loss for what to say. It wasn't fair – why did she have to be the one to make amends? True, it had been her fault . . . but it had also been Lorcan's. She had been the one who got the worst end of the stick. Her relationship had been the one that had ended and she, to this day, hadn't been able to begin another whilst her ex-boyfriend was all lovey-dovey with the girl who had stolen him from her.

It wasn't fair.

"Don't judge somebody just because they sin differently than you do," Fred concluded, as if reading her mind, before getting to his feet and tugging at his tie one final time.

"When did you get so smart?" grumbled Rose, getting to her feet and following her soon-to-be married cousin to the door.

"It's a prerequisite of being married to Olivia Wood," Fred explained, before he was whisked away by James and Albus, both of whom seemed to have been waiting outside the door, holding a bottle of firewhiskey in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other.

Eyes wide, she turned to Louis, who was lazily strolling after them.

"Don't look at me," he youngest cousin shrugged, "They're under the impression that he's overcome with nerves and in need of stress relief."

"I rest my case."

Rose shook her head as she went downstairs, ignoring the raucous yelling of her aunts and mother as they scurried around the house that had long since become too small to hold them all. Smiling nervously, she went up to the girl standing beside the front door, speaking with Molly and Lucy.

She clapped a hand onto her cousin's shoulder and cleared her throat, aware of the awkward silence that suddenly appeared between the four of them. Then she plucked up whatever Gryffindor courage she had – even though she had been a Ravenclaw – and said:

"Roxanne, can we talk?"

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A/N: Thoughts?

Prompt: 'I rest my case'

Also written for the Fill the Calendar Challenge at HPFC: Prompt – Write about a Wedding (March 30) -

This Chapter is dedicated to the Amazing QueenRayne who helped me realise that writing family fluff is just as rewarding as writing Dark Fiction