The first time he told her he loved her was in their fifth year, and she remembered laughing at the matching hues of his cheeks and hair, but reached up anyways to entwine her arms around his neck and kiss him, whispering the same three words back in his ear. [Fred x Reader/OC]

He can't leave the room. Her room. And it's all the Order's fault. Confined to a small space with only the Mudblood for company, something's going to give. Maybe his sanity. Maybe not. "There," she spat. "Now your Blood's filthy too!" DM/HG. PostHBP.