"Come here," Fred growled, gripping the back of her neck.
His teeth made contact with her pulse point and she gasped quietly. Her heart pounded in her ears so loud she couldn't hear the creaks and groans of the castle around them. Only Fred's labored breathing against her neck and how much adrenaline was pumping through her veins were audible.
He slid his tongue down her chest, moving her robe as he continued downwards and then dropped to his knees. She frantically looked down and almost panicked about doing this on the floor but stopped as Fred's tongue slid desperately between her legs.
She twitched and gasped against the wall from shock and pleasure.
"Open your legs," he commanded in a silky voice.
She did as she was told and he wasted no time finding her throbbing core.
"Fred," she moaned, gripping his hair, coaxing him closer.
He chuckled and licked her slowly; agonizingly. "Such a good girl for me."
The words sent fire through her veins. This is what she had missed by pushing him away last week. She'd never felt so stupid in her life as she parted her legs further, hoping for more rewards.
Fred gorged himself on her like he hadn't had a meal in years. All the boys before had stirred a tingle or buzz within her. Their touches had been uncoordinated, and purely for their own pleasure. Their fingers went where they wanted, and their tongue only graced the parts of her that they wanted to taste.
But Fred; he was calculated in making her body burn. His lips brushed the most intimate parts of her with adoration and meticulous attention. He responded to each of her sounds with enthusiasm and attacked the places that made her writhe as if he was trying to win some prize. He worked her slow and then quick, alternating between giving her exactly what she wanted and then withholding it. It was maddening bliss. She glanced down and watched as he mirrored the movements of his tongue with the frantic pumping of his hand. The sight nearly threw her over the edge.
"Please," she moaned.
A smile played on his lips as he looked up at her, letting his thumb continue his work slowly, not giving her the chance to reach her peak before they could climb together. Normally, giving him such satisfaction would drive her insane, but for some reason, she didn't mind being putty in his hands.
"Please, what," he whispered, kissing her hipbones.
All she could do was moan, over and over as he gorgeously stroked her. His abilities were a surprise but his talent for teasing was not.
"Don't whine, Fern. I need you to use your words."
"Fuck me," she begged. "Please, fuck me…oh fuck."
He chuckled darkly and rubbed her clit a few more times. Unbelievably, she would've begged more, and more until her throat was raw but he obliged her and began kissing up her stomach. He stopped teasing then, fully standing to pin her against the wall. His erection dug into her stomach, it alone, made her ache.
"Don't move," he whispered, hooking his arm underneath her leg, and pressing it against the wall, to open her up.
They moaned in tandem as he bucked forward and teased her slit with the head of his shaft. He leaned forward and groaned into her chest to keep from pushing into her fully.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she panted.
"Good girls shouldn't say things like that," he cooed, teasing her entrance.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, too drunk on the feeling of him kissing her neck to really focus on giving a coherent answer.
"Maybe you aren't a good girl, then," he teased.
"M'not," she moaned.
He stopped moving then and loomed over her, coming so close to her face that she wondered if he was going to kiss her.
"What are you?"
"Whore," she moaned, moving her hips against the tip of him.
"Wrong answer, Fern."
She searched his expression for the right answer but it only took seconds to see the territorial, and possessive glimmer in his eye.
"Yours…I'm yours — Fred please."
He groaned and bit at her collarbone. "Fuck," he sighed. "Mine. You're mine."
Slowly, the large redhead began pressing himself through her folds. She gasped and braced her hands against his shoulders. He was much larger than anyone else she'd been with. It stung like it was her first time but as he bottomed out inside of her, he hit something she hadn't even known was there. They moaned quietly in tandem as he pulled out and plunged into her again, faster this time.
"Fucking hell," Fred moaned, grabbing her wrists and pressing them against the wall above her head.
"Keep. Your. Hands. There," he commanded with each stroke.
Surely, she looked messy and desperate but for some reason, she liked it. She liked having him smugly in control of her, especially when he'd let her pretend to be in control earlier. The little game made her skin burn and body twitch. He wanted to touch her, tell her what to do, reward her for being good. She felt wanted in a way that was utterly animalistic and unescapable.
"Open your mouth," he commanded.
She did as she was told, gladly sticking her tongue out like she had when he'd put his thumb in her mouth. He seemed to like that image because he released her wrists and hastily grabbed her neck.
She kept eye contact and moaned when he pressed his thumb against her tongue again. Feeling bold, she wrapped her lips around the long finger and sucked on it, swirling her tongue around the top as if it was him. He hissed and pumped into her faster.
"You look so pretty with my finger in your mouth, Fern," he purred between labored breaths.
She went slack-jawed as he filled her up over and over again in an unrelenting rhythm. He slid his thumb to the back of her throat and let drool slide down her chin.
"Fuck, I could look at you like this forever," he sighed.
He thrust into her frantically. A moan ripped through her chest as the thumb on her tongue slid down her body and began toying wither her clit.
Despite coming undone himself, Fred chuckled and kissed her chin, absorbing her failed attempts at keeping quiet. "And I thought you didn't like me."
"I don't," she gasped. "But choke me when I cum."
"Fuck," he groaned, furrowing his brow with concentration.
Five more thrusts and she was shaking underneath him.
Her orgasm ripped through her body, intense and hungry for every ounce of control that she had left. Long, strong fingers wrapped around her throat, as requested, and squeezed just enough to give her a taste of oblivion.
The world went dark except for excruciating pleasure pricking every nerve in her body. There weren't words to describe it and she couldn't tell if Fred being the one to give her otherworldly leisure was a good or bad thing.
She was briefly aware of Fred's own orgasm filling her up and seeping from between her legs as she basked in the glow of the high and then begrudgingly came back to reality.
Her surroundings came back into focus and Fred's grip on her loosened. She blinked slowly and leaned her bodyweight fully against the wall. All her energy had been spent but Fred didn't seem to particularly care, or agree.
He looked at her hungrily, like one round wasn't enough. Despite their aversion to intimacy, he brought their forehands together. His mouth twitched and she wasn't sure if he was going to speak or try and kiss her. Would she let him? She half thought of kissing him first or perhaps begging him to lick himself off of the inside of her thighs but a voice down the hall ripped her from the idea.
They jumped and stared at each other wide-eyed and panicked.
Not another fucking detention, she thought.
He placed her leg back on the floor and zipped his pants before ducking out of the alcove to take in the impending doom.
"Fuck," she hissed, pulling her robe tight and picking her clothes up from the floor.
They peeked around the corner together, assessing how much time they had until the prefects entered the corridor.
"Come on," Fred whispered suddenly, wrapping his hand around her wrist and tugging her along behind him.
She had no time to assess the distance or come up with a plan before Fred sprinted down the hall, around the corner, and to a tapestry hanging on the wall. She nearly yelled at him about his terrible hiding spot choice but he surprised her, and lifted it, to reveal an odd-looking door she didn't recognize. To her surprised, it opened with ease, and he led her through the threshold, into a dark hall.
She hissed at him to slow down but besides the tight grip on her hand, he didn't even look like he remembered she was there. He hastily led her up a rickety wooden staircase, through another door at the back of a classroom, and then suddenly, she was at the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower.
She blinked and then did a double-take. By the time her mind registered what had happened, Fred was already walking away.
"How did you do that," she whispered, still staring in awe at her front door.
"Are you going to invite me in," he asked from behind her.
She spun around to stare at the smug wizard who was already halfway through another secret door.
"Not a chance in hell, you twat," she hissed.
"Till next time, then, darling," he cooed, shooting her a wink.
"There won't be — "
But the wooden door slammed closed and she was left alone in the dark hallway.
Her lips didn't stop tingling for nearly a week.
Classes were a blur. Evenings in the library were spent watching her back for Fred to appear through a hidden entrance. Meals became stressful hours, avoiding his intense gaze. Daisy considered sending her to the infirmary but she kept brushing her off, citing that stress about exams before Christmas break was to blame.
Despite her best efforts, it seemed that no matter where she turned or hid, he appeared out of nowhere. When she sat at the Ravenclaw table, his eyes were already attached to her. If she was going down a set of stairs, he was coming up, watching her all the way. If she was walking out of a classroom, he was waiting for someone else, or on his way in. The worst part was that despite becoming her shadow, he always kept his distance and didn't say a word.
She thought that maybe he wanted to keep their psychotic game of cat and mouse going but she sure as hell wasn't going to ask him. She'd seen how he attached himself to girls before, and even though this looked different, felt different, she hated him and was not going to become some hopeless romantic because of a little attention.
He could have her regret, but that was it.
Regret.
He seemed infatuated or at least intrigued but all she could feel was deep, burning, regret.
Part of her wished she would've told him to bugger off last week. The other part, however, wanted to succumb to their standoff first, break into the Gryffindor dorms and throw herself at the insatiable redhead.
Fern stared at her reflection in the Ravenclaw common room windows, watching the sunset over the black lake. The red hue on her cheeks became visible, even bounced off of the glass and tore her away from the lustful thoughts.
She pressed her forehead against the cool glass.
Why him, of all people?
Why did it have to be him?
Smug. Arrogant. Annoying.
She glanced over her shoulder and around the common room.
There were half a dozen boys in her own house that were good-looking, handsome even, and yet, utterly uninspiring.
The images of Fred with his hands up her robe morphed into the other options.
Clumsy. Apathetic. Rubbish.
They'd call her sweet names and chase her pleasure well enough but she craved more.
Passion, she realized. It was his passion. And possessiveness.
He didn't just want sex, he wanted her.
On his knees in a hall like a devotee in front of a prophet.
A mortal at the fountain of youth.
Saints at the gates of heaven.
Her face grew hot again.
Thankfully no one noticed.
Laughter erupted around her, making her jump. She turned to glare but other studying upperclassmen quieted the group of giggling first years before she even got the chance. Their faces grew disgruntled and upset, but they'd get used to the shrewdness eventually.
Other common rooms she'd been in were bustling and or at least had an air of relaxation about them, even Slytherin. But here, in the pinnacle of knowledge and learning, with certitude and plenty of stubbornness, friendliness was hard to come by. It wasn't their fault, of course, they'd been indoctrinated into a house known for intelligence and then pit against each other for top of the class, prefect positions, and house points. The situation bred competitiveness, and so, distrust thrived. Ravenclaws cultivated their friendships behind closed doors where alliances were not so obvious and couldn't be weaponized. She didn't mind though. It just meant that, unlike other common room spaces, she was relatively safe from confrontation and socializing out here in the open.
She watched the first years continue to glare around the room and then scanned it herself. There seemed to be nothing exciting going on, so she collected her abandoned homework and almost resigned to her room for the evening when two quiet voices pulled at her ear.
Padma and Mandy, huddled close and whispering, walked swiftly towards the girl's dormitories. They didn't notice her lurking on the sill so she leaned over as they passed, just coming close enough to make out the words, "meeting," and "tomorrow." Her heart leaped at the reminder of the seventh-floor mystery. Her run-ins with a certain annoying redhead had nearly wiped her memory clean of the real problem at hand - Neville.
She stared at her reflection once more, debating on whether or not she should try to figure out what was going on once and for all. He'd told her that she wasn't welcome but…that had never stopped her before.
The girls shut the dorm doors but Fern was hot on their trail, having made her mind up.
"Mandy," she hissed before they made it into their room.
The girls turned around, sporting their usual exuberant smiles. When they graduated, the energy levels in Ravenclaw would diminish by at least 50%.
"Hi, Fern," they sang in unison.
She greeted them pleasantly, hoping their guards were down. Besides the Weasley twins, they were the only ones she knew who might have a clue about what Neville was up to. This was her only shot.
"Sorry to do this out in the open," she whispered, gaining more invested looks. "But Nev forgot to tell me what time we were all meeting tomorrow."
She held her breath, waiting for their skepticism, rejection, accusation, or anything that would thwart her risky plan. She realized in the few seconds that it took for either girl to speak, that she hadn't thought this through at all and was a complete and total idiot.
"What," Mandy breathed, looking quite shocked.
If it was a harmless study group then there was no harm done, but if it was something else, actually worth her skepticism, then she had to at least try.
"Well he only just told me that I should…join you all but —I mean you know him, of course, he forgot to tell me the time."
Shock dissolved to joy and then it was her turn to be surprised by their blinding smiles and bright eyes.
"You're really going join," Padma chirped excitedly.
Fern nodded, eyeing them critically, and wondering what she'd gotten herself into.
Padma leaned forward and shook her shoulder. "Neville was so sure you'd hate him for being a part of it. How daft!"
Her mind worked over the few, vague choices she had remaining.
"Well…it seemed like the right thing to do," she responded with confidence. "And he asked so…"
"Bloody hell, Nev was honestly at his whits end about it — "
Mandy shushed her friend. "Oh never mind that! Welcome, welcome!"
Fern nodded and smiled, hoping for more information.
"I can't say it's terribly fun, realizing how ill-prepared we are to fight Death Eaters and all that but Harry's a great teacher!"
Her jaw clicked and her vision was red with fury.
Idiots.
"Do you remember what we're working on tomorrow," Mandy asked, turning to Padma.
"Levicorpus? I don't know, something that'll scare the shit out of everyone."
"Like always," Mandy responded, nodding in thought. "But anyway, I think it's 6:30 in the evening."
Useless, unthinking, idiots.
"The usual place?" Fern's teeth slotted together sharply with a frustrated clack.
Mandy nodded. "It'll be brill to have you!"
They flitted into their room, talking happily about how much of a worrywart her brother was. And then she was alone in the corridor, staring out the blazing window at the end of the hall.
Worried for good reason she thought, turning on her heel and sprinting towards the Fat Lady.
Images of Neville in a hospital bed next to their parents plagued her thoughts as she crossed the castle. He'd told her it was nothing but he was in some sort of training camp for Potter's next mission. They'd been back at school for months and he never thought to mention that he was preparing to risk his life. Padma said he was afraid for her to know. She blinked back angry tears.
He was right to be afraid.
A group of Gryffindors was entering when she was a few feet away so she sped up and caught the portrait before it closed.
"Neville Longbottom," she yelled, stomping into the common room and looking around wildly.
A chorus of yells and shushing followed her but she didn't care. The auburn and yellow room was packed to the brim with wide-eyed Gryffindors. Good, she thought, someone will give him up.
She shoved a few kids out of the way but didn't see Neville's hunched posture or dark hair so she made a b-line for the boy's dormitory.
"Neville Longbottom," she yelled again, banging on the door.
"Bloody hell, woman. What are you screaming for?"
Of course.
Fred stood at the base of the stone steps behind her, looking annoyingly amused at her angry state. He'd watched her all week, so it was no surprise that he'd be present for her finest moment.
"Where is my brother," she hissed, stomping down towards him, unleashing hell.
"Have you hit your head?"
"Get out of my fucking way."
He did the opposite, of course, and crossed his arms before casually leaning against the stone threshold.
"You're a madwoman," he laughed.
Her hand shot out, reaching for any part of him she could grab. He didn't even try to move as she bunched the collar of his sweater into a fist.
"I was right about you," she spat, yanking him as hard as she could. "You're corrupting him. You and your fucking club."
His eyes went wide but she didn't have time to hear his response or even register his reaction when movement out of the corner of her eye drew all of her attention.
A dark-haired boy, clutching a plant rushed out from behind a column.
"Neville, get back here," she yelled again, shoving a gaping Fred out of the way.
Her brother darted for the portrait and made it down one flight of the moving stairs and into an empty sixth-floor hallway before she caught up with him.
"Astronomy homework?"
He turned and backed away into a wall, plastering a fake smile on his face.
"Oh, hi Fern," he stammered, avoiding eye contact.
"Were you ever going to tell me what you were really doing?"
The look on his face was of pure terror but she didn't care. He was going to get himself killed. She'd rather he be scared of her, than face the actual evils of the real world. Her fury was nothing compared to theirs.
"I…I…I was just waiting for the right time — I knew you'd be angry."
"Angry? I'm beyond that, Nev. I am fucking livid," she hissed, stepping closer.
"Oi!"
She whirled around, ready to hex whoever was interrupting the family moment. Fred appeared from the stairwell, jogging a little like her brother needed saving. How could he not see that she was saving Neville from him and his merry band of idiots?
"You," she raged. "Fuck off."
He stopped in his tracks and threw his hands up in surrender. A smile played on his lips until he took in the look on her face, which was hopefully radiating pure murder.
"Fern, don't do this here — "
"You have done enough," she snarled. "Leave."
He took a step closer, glancing around for an audience.
"Listen, just pipe down and — "
"FUCK OFF!"
Fred stumbled back a bit and shot a questionable look at Neville over her shoulder.
"It's fine," her brother whispered, waving his friend off.
The redhead shot her another pleading look but she turned around before he took the chance to open his meddling mouth again and waited until she heard his retreating footsteps to continue.
"Death Eaters? Have you gone mad?"
Neville's face grew bright red. "I was going to tell you…"
"Tell. Me. Now."
She felt terrible but her shy little brother folded immediately. He told her about the return of you-know-who, Harry Potters's paranoia, and the group's gripe with Defense Against the Dark Arts and Umbridge. It was a task and a half but she stayed quiet when he told her about everyone involved and how often they practiced forbidden hexes and spells. He didn't look her in the eye until the story was finished, and she was seething.
"You're playing at war, Nev."
His eyes went wide and she knew they were in for a fight.
"We are practicing for war. Which is coming, by the way. Umbridge isn't teaching us anything, Fern so what do you expect me to do?"
"Go to classes and not get mixed up in Potter's scheme!"
"It's not a scheme, it's — it's something real."
"Yeah, real fucking stupid."
"I knew you wouldn't understand."
"Why? Because I value my life? Because I'm not willing to lie down in front of the first kid with a hero complex and a nice speech, who tells me that I can do something more?"
"Harry's not like that! He fought you-know-who last year and he says that — bad things will happen if we aren't prepared for what's coming. He's just trying to help."
"I don't doubt that but just because he wants to fight … doesn't mean you have to."
He hung his head again, going back to the sheepish boy she thought she knew. When did he start having dreams of glory?
"I don't have to but…I want to because we're a team — an army, so we'll fight together."
Neville looked back up, staring at her with anxious eyes and a broken expression but despite that, she could suddenly see the backbone of gold he'd developed somewhere in the last few years in Gryffindor.
"They can fight without you — they will fight without you because I forbid you to be any part of it."
It was harsh, controlling, and mean, all of the things he scolded her about, but this was about his safety, not her likability. If he was gold, she was fire.
"You — you can't do that. You're not my — "
"Not who," she interrupted harshly. "Not Mum?"
A tear fell and her anger finally boiled over.
"Where is your mum, Nev? Where is our mum?"
Neville glanced around the hall for help but there was no saving him. The next time she saw Potter, she was going to do the dark lord a favor and kill him herself.
"Oh that's right," she seethed. "She's half-dead in a hospital because she got mixed up in someone else's war. She chose fighting and glory over us — over family and if you want to do the same then fine. I look forward to holding your fucking hand when you're admitted to St. Mungo's right next to our brave mum and dad! Join the legacy of dead heroes for all I care —"
Her next words were knocked out of her mouth as strong arms swept her off of her feet.
"Alright, I think we've heard enough outta you," Fred bellowed, swinging her over his shoulder. "Time to calm down."
She fought to breathe as his shoulder made contact with her stomach.
"I told you to fuck off," she screeched, clawing at him to break free.
He instantly began walking and she could see them passing Neville in her peripheral.
"Longbottom, get outta here, I got her," Fred commanded, not loosening his grip, despite her struggle.
"Put me down, asshole!"
She heard Neville follow them for a moment to say "Don't be mad," and then scurry off towards safety.
Traitor.
Her blood boiled, bringing her beyond rationality, not that she had much left, to begin with. All she could do was snarl in response.
Fred didn't seem to care as he carried her through a threshold before setting her down inside of a dark, empty classroom.
Fuming, she shoved him against the closed door and screamed.
"GET OFF! Why can't anyone just listen to me? "
"Easy there, crazy," he mumbled, holding his hands up in surrender again.
His face was stoic but she could still see the faint smirk permanently stamped on his face behind the air of seriousness. It fueled her anger even more. He could take nothing seriously and now he was interfering with her family.
"I'm not fucking crazy. I just care about my little brother and you're getting in the way," she seethed, stalking away from him, deeper into the maze of desks, desperately looking for another exit.
"Why are you so upset," he called, somewhat accusingly. "Shouldn't you be proud? Following in footsteps or whatever."
Idiots, idiots, idiots. She whipped around to glare at the absolute idiot.
He was oblivious to risk because he was oblivious to suffering. Every foolhardy mission that Potter and the lot of them had attempted, had a happy ending, so far. They'd gotten lucky, but they were arrogant to think that fate would always be on their side. She'd thought that of all people, the boy who lived knew the possible consequences but apparently, he had nothing left to lose.
She'd kill him for gambling with her brother's life. Maybe she'd maim Fred just to drive home her point.
"Footsteps," she repeated quietly, moving to stand in front of him. "Like a cow to slaughter. He called you all an army, Fred!"
"Well, maybe we are," he shrugged.
"An army of children," she bellowed, showing his shoulder.
He rolled his eyes and towered over her, daring her to do it again.
"Not true, I'm 18," he smirked. "So is George."
"You're an imbecile," she sneered, moving towards the door.
He stepped in front of her and locked it.
"Takes one, darling," he laughed.
She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Don't call me that!"
"You are lashing out at me, Fern, but I'm not the reason you're angry," he scolded, suddenly more serious than she'd ever seen him.
"Aren't you? You're just letting it happen! You could've talked Potter out of it or put your foot down as the only adult in the room, but no! You chose to go along with the delusions of a 15-year-old, so congrats, your complacency is going to get children killed by the most prolific killer of all time."
He looked taken aback for a moment and then anger burst behind his amber eyes. She didn't flinch when he lunged forward to get in her face.
"What would you have us do? Nothing? You know what's out there Fern, better than anyone! Bloody hell, I — I mean I always thought that at least one of you Longbottom's had your parent's bravery but I never thought it'd end up being Neville!"
"Don't talk about my parents, and don't call me a coward!"
"Then stop being one," he roared. "For as long as I have known you, you've been a bossy, antagonizing, contrarian. You'll stare down me, George, Malfoy, professors, anyone who crosses you! I've never even seen you pause before launching an attack! What's different about this?"
She backed away from him, not out of fear or offense but because she could feel the heat radiating off of him, and it was suddenly too much of a reminder about his hands on her body, and his mouth between her legs.
"Bloody hell, are you hearing yourself," she groaned. "The difference is that I don't share your death wish! If you want to sacrifice yourself and your whole family to you-know-who, then that is your fucking business but I won't let you put my brother in harm's way!"
"Sacrifice my family," he repeated, dumbfounded and angry.
"Yes," she spat. "Some big brother you are, sending them to an early grave."
His nostrils flared and he brought them closer together.
"Watch your fucking mouth," Fred hissed.
Her heart nearly beat out of her chest. His bared teeth were so close, she thought that if she had less of a backbone, she might've swooned.
They were screaming about death, family, and dignity so — why did she want to kiss him?
"Don't fucking curse at me, asshole!"
Why did she want to kill him?
He stepped closer. "If you weren't such a fucking bitch — "
She supposed he deserved it but there was still a pang of guilt as her hand made contact with his cheekbone. It was strangely smooth, and cold, almost like marble. She thought he'd back away or clutch his face and yell but he didn't give her a moment to continue the thought before grabbing both her wrists and pinning her to the top of a desk.