Fred Weasley was quite enjoying his day. He'd made back the thirty galleons he lost to his brother, managed to dump a pail of water on a particularly annoying sixth year Ravenclaw, and beaten Ron at a game of wizard chess. All in all, pretty good for a Thursday. So imagine his surprise when he was blindsided by another body forcing him into a custodial closet. He jumped away from the stranger, fumbling with his wand when he let out a loud exhale at the face he saw.

"Merlin, Odile. You scared the life out me-"

"Save it. How did you figure it out?" She interrogated, stepping closer to him, shaking with anger.

"What are you talking about?" Fred asked genuinely, holding his hands up in surrender. She narrowed her eyes, anger wafting off her like steam. He stepped backwards until he was against the wall, her body caging him in. This was becoming a theme.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about! How'd you figure out my dream spell?" She cried, fists balled up in rage. Dangerous fists, nose-breaking fists, Fred reminded himself as he eyed her. He racked his brain for what would calm her and lowered his voice to a placating tone.

"I haven't! Truly," he continued when he saw her eyes narrowing, "I couldn't figure it out! George and I tried everything!" She scanned his eyes, searching for any deceit. Obviously finding none, she huffed, anger visibly leaving her body. She was still pressed against him, a note that hadn't escaped Fred's notice. He was still shoved between the mops, a spare bulb dangling from the ceiling their only light. He glanced over her face, taking in the bags under her eyes, the stress slowly lessening on her features.

"If you're lying to me-" She attempted, but he could see she had no fight left in her. Still, he held his hands straight up, noting how her eyes dropped to the sliver of skin that appeared from where his shirt had ridden up. Interesting.

"I swear on Godric Gryffindor himself that I'm telling the truth. We were trying, but we just couldn't figure it out. We were trying to see if we could get one of your dormmates to try and turn your bed into a puddle when you were asleep, but they wouldn't even give us the time of day." He grumbled, still annoyed by the girl's pretending as if he didn't exist. She sighed then and leant back, well, as much as she could in the small space of the closet.

"A puddle Weasley? I thought you were more creative than that." She replied with a smirk.

"Well, we were trying to figure out a prank that wouldn't end in bodily harm to ourselves by the girl who hits like a boxer. Seriously, have you ever thought of trying out for beater?" She chuckled at that and ran a hand through her hair.

"Doubt I'd be any good at it." She remarked, crossing her arms over her chest in amusement. He cocked an eyebrow, mirroring her position.

"You sure? Seems like you've got enough repressed rage for it." She fully laughed at that, bringing up a hand to cover her mouth. He liked making her smile; it fit her much better than the usual scowl.

"Why do you ask anyway?" She felt her heart drop to her stomach, and a bright red blush covered her cheeks. If Fred hadn't put the dream there, then- Merlin. Odile Reisinger had the dream herself. Odile had dreamt that she and Fred were married, had kids and- Oh bloody Merlin. Fred watched the emotions rush across her face in interest and, oh. Ohhh.

"Did you have a dream about me, Black Swan?" He murmured, smirking as she refused to meet his eyes. He leant forward, turning the tables on her. Now she was the one caged against the wall, the one whose entire body was shaking. It was his breath ghosting her ear, his palms pressed to the concrete on either side of her body. What had she gotten herself into? Her silence spoke volumes, and Fred felt an evil glee rush through him.

"Tell me about it," he whispered, and she felt shivers run down her spine. He was everywhere, invading her space in a way that was downright malicious. She bit her lip, looking anywhere that wasn't him. She turned her head to stare at the mops, not realising just how much skin she'd given him access to.

"Come on, love, don't be shy now." He hummed, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction that he finally had the upper hand here. She might have won the last round, but he was still in the running for the little game they had going. Somewhere, something tiny cheered at the thought that she found him just as attractive as he found her. After all, she wasn't the one who'd had a dream influenced by a spell. This one was all her.

"It wasn't even like that; it was nothing." She tried, but her voice was shaking so badly it was hardly convincing.

"Really? So what was it about? It can't have been nothing, now could it? You wouldn't have brought me in here if it was nothing. So tell me, Odile. What did you dream about?" She chewed her bottom lip, knowing she couldn't tell him. She'd rather clean every room in Hogwarts by hand, than tell him her dream. Merlin, what could she tell him? No, I didn't have a sensual dream about you, just one where we got married and had kids? Yeah, that would go over well. She was so concentrated on her story to notice his head moving closer to her.

"Salazaar's sake, Fred!" She squeaked as he put a leg between hers, effectively trapping her in. She felt his chuckle rumble against her, and she shut her eyes tightly. He placed a very soft kiss on the column of her neck, eyes snapping up to her face. He wasn't going any further if she didn't want this, but gauging by the soft whine in the back of her throat, he was doing alright. He placed another, a little further up this time, still watching her reaction. She hadn't said anything, though there was a very interesting expression on her face. Slowly, so she had plenty of time to move, he bit her ear lightly. She shifted against him, panting lightly.

"Say you want this, Odile, or I'll stop right now." He murmured into her ear, and she gasped quietly. He paused, waiting for her to make the call. If there was one thing Fred Weasley was, it was respectful of his partner's consent.

"I must be going insane, but uh… I want… this. I want you to, erm, continue. So, um, get on with it." She muttered awkwardly, gesticulating for him to hurry and continue his motions. He chuckled lightly, nuzzling her neck, watching her squirm. He could do this all bloody day.

"Say please." Fred teased, knowing he was pushing his luck here. She sent him a withering look, one that disappeared as he pinned her wrists above her head with one hand. Odile blinked in bemusement, eyes widening, pupils blown. He shifted even closer, if that was even possible, and placed a kiss behind her ear. She was panting a bit louder now, not that he was in a much better state. He brought his free hand up to stroke her jaw, enjoying the way her breath caught in her throat.

"Say it." He repeated, a bit more forceful this time, nipping at her neck. She jumped at that, and his smirk grew.

"Dear Merlin, Fred. I- just- please." She begged as he kissed down her neck and her collarbone. She squirmed against him as his teeth raked over the sensitive flesh before his lips gently soothed it. He knew he was teasing her, but he never thought he'd ever get this far, and he was going to take his time. He moved further up again, pressing a kiss to her cheek, feeling the heat against his lips. This was just plain magical.

"Odile, I-" Whatever Fred was about to say was cut off when they were interrupted by the door being flung open. The influx of light blinded them for a moment, but as their vision cleared, the mood evaporated. Hermione Granger was standing there, eyes widening at the scene laid before her. Well, Hermione, Ron, and a multitude of staring students.

"Shite," Fred muttered as they sprung apart, each adjusting their clothes awkwardly. Whispers began to fill the hall as Odile brought a hand to cover the bruises appearing across her neck. Shite was right.

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"Look, it was nothing, Granger. Just a little harmless fun, be reasonable here." Fred placated from his spot on the couch. Thankfully he'd been found by prefects he knew and not, well, anyone else. They were now sitting at a spare table in the common room, side-eyed by practically every Gryffindor in there. News travels fast in Hogwarts, and he was sure everyone had heard of their little tryst by now.

"Merlin, Fred, this is low even for your standards. I mean, a Slytherin?" His younger brother muttered, earning him a sharp look from Fred and a smack from Hermione.

"That is beside the point, Ronald!" She scolded in a harsh whisper, and Fred sighed heavily as the reality sent that being interrogated by his little brother and his little brother's crush. Hermione glanced over at him, scowling in a way that didn't fit her face.

"Honestly, Fred, what was going through your head?" Hermione finally said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Look, when you reach a certain age, you begin to have desires-" She snapped up and covered her ears, squeezing her eyes closed.

"Fred! Honestly, man, have you no self-respect?" Ron snickered a bit, earning him another slap. The two then began bickering like an old married couple, and Fred rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Now he knew how Harry felt, bloody hell. He wondered how Odile was getting on with her prefect.

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"Look, can I go now?" Odile huffed, leaning back against the chair. They'd been at this for at least 20 minutes; she just wanted the girl to take the points and let her go. It was fitting that Parkinson had been the only prefect available, just the cherry on top of the chaos that was Odile's life.

"No! You have disgraced our great house by... associating yourself with that filthy blood traitor!" Pansy fumed, pacing back and forth. Pansy was going to make Odile motion sick if she kept moving like that, and Odile rubbed her temples at the thought.

"Patsy, the phrase is making out. And who cares? It's not like he means anything to me. It's just a little harmless fun." Odile spread her hands conversationally, watching intently as Pansy seemed to turn every hue of red possible. Odile pointedly ignored Pansy's use of the slur, knowing she just said it to gain a reaction.

"For the last bloody time, it's Pansy! And you call that what, harmless fun? You should be expelled for what you've done!" Odile rolled her eyes at that, leaning back against the armchair once more.

"Take a breath, Patsy; you'll blow a blood vessel. Listen, one day, you'll reach the age where you'll do some casual making out with whatever guy or girl you meet. Whatever you're into. It's totally normal." The poor kid looked ready to explode, so Odile sighed and decided to take pity on her.

"Look, how about this, Pansy. If I promise to never casually make out with Weasley again, you'll let me off with a couple of house points retracted. Deal?" Odile prompted, sticking her hand out to shake.

"No interaction whatsoever. If I have to hear about your… exploits again, I'll go straight to Umbridge or, better yet, Snape. No second chances." Pansy sniffed, arms folded over her chest.

"Fine, whatever. Now put her there, pal." Odile replied in a bored tone as Pansy reached out and delicately shook her hand. Odile didn't plan on following through with her promise though, she had a game to win. It had become a dance between her and Fred, who would break form first. The closet had been a moment of weakness; she hadn't been benched quite yet. Had Fred forcing her to plead for his attention fueled multiple of her fantasies? Maybe. Well, ok, yes it had. She refused to crumble though, she was not going to let those wicked lips get the better of her. She had a competition to win, and she planned to see it through.

Have Gryffindor Fred Weasley, a known associate of Harry Potter, and Slytherin socialite Odile Reisinger been caught in a secret relationship? Our sources give us the scoop on the real-life Romeo and Juliet, from steamy make-out sessions to being seen around Hogsmeade ring shopping! Read all this and more on page 5C.

"Mum's going to kill me." Fred groaned, flopping his head onto the table, rubbing his temples. His brother eyed his brother in amusement, dramatically flipping to the extended page, adjusting fake glasses.

"I'd love to hear more about the uh, oh yes! The gold-digging youth sources are worried that is trying to use Odile for her family's wealth. A real page-turner, this one. I especially like the part where students caught you ripping each other's clothes off; now that is quite an image." Fred snatched the paper from his cackling brother, shredding the trash to pieces.

"Go on then, tell us what happened; you've already lost the bet. And that counted before you try and argue again." Fred sighed irritably, deciding to just cut his losses before they stretched the conversation out much longer.

"I don't know. One minute we're arguing, next thing I know we're in a "steamy make-out session". Which is ridiculous by the way, we weren't even kissing," He sighed at his brother's eyebrow, "Alright, I kissed her neck a bit, but there was no lip on lip contact," He rectified, trailing off at his brother's sly smile.

"So who initiated it?" George asked simply, pulling another egg off of the platter and onto his plate.

"Her! It's not my fault she's so bloody kissable." Fred muttered as he turned his head to look at the gorgeous brunette, missing his brother's mimed gag. He caught sight of her through the sea of people, like a lighthouse in a storm. She was sitting on her own like always, but there was something different about her. What could it be-? Oh. She was smiling, a gentle fond grin that he'd never seen before. He wished she'd look at him like that. Fred started at that, shaking his head as if to remove those stupid thoughts from his mind. He turned back to his place to see his brother and Lee making silly kissy faces at him. He threw a bit of bacon at them, head ducked in embarrassment.

"Shut it. Finish breakfast, you numpties. We've got practice after this." The two conceded, finding something new to focus on. Fred chanced another glance over his shoulder; he couldn't help but stare at her as she brushed some hair out of her face. The long tresses trailed down her back in loose waves, framing her face perfectly. He could barely make out her face properly, but something about that smile was hypnotising. She really was something.

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Ever since she'd been caught with one half of the Weasley duo, she'd become akin to a leper. No one talking to her wasn't anything new; neither were the dirty looks, but she'd never felt so isolated. Even her dormmates, who'd at least acknowledged her existence, were distant and cold. Everyone had frozen her out, and now she was the subject of gossip columns.

"My Dad is going to kill me." She lamented, putting her head in her hands. She was so tired, tired of whispers and pointing, a flame being stoked into a wildfire by Rita Skeeter. The article had intensified the rumours that had been fading in the past few weeks. Odile just wanted to scream, jumping when an owl swooped down in front of her, dropping a letter on her plate. She picked it up with shaking hands, groaning when she saw the script on the envelope. Speak of the devil. She pushed her thumb into the edge of the flap, ripping it open with an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

Odile,

I was disappointed to read about your tryst with the Weasley boy in the papers. You'd do well to remember that you have a reputation to uphold. On to more pressing matters, I feel it is wise for you to stay at Hogwarts this Christmas rather than coming home. Evgeniya and I are planning a trip to Geneva, we doubt you will be needed. Remember who your family is; you'll do well not to embarrass me again.

From the desk of

Sir Michael Reisinger

Ministry of Magic Chief Executive Officer of Treasury

She couldn't help but snort at the ending, sure that he'd dictated the message to his secretary. Everything had been typed on a typewriter barring his actual signature. She knew her father like the back of her hand; professionalism always came before emotions. He might have been furious about the lies Rita Skeeter published, but he'd never admit it. The cold disappointment was all he had for her. She sighed, folding up the paper, ripping it into bits. She ignored the side-eyes she received at the action; she was over caring what people thought of her.

She jumped when another owl swooped over her, grumbling as she picked the letter from her out of her oats. A package followed, splashing her orange juice across the table. Odile ignored the outraged cry of the girl sitting two seats across from her, casting a quick Scorgify to shut her up.

"Damn birds." She seethed, stopping when she noticed the handwriting on the envelope. She immediately straightened up, glee rushing through her. She ripped the envelope open enthusiastically, running her eyes over the contents in excitement.

Dear Ode,

Hey, sugar plum! We didn't know how the whole international owl post would work out, so we decided to send your Christmas presents early. No peeking now; we'll know! Everyone misses you, thinking about you always. Oh, and Lizzie had her baby! A little boy, Jackson the Third. He just can't wait to meet you, so you better get here soon. Miss you, kiddo.

Love,

Uncle John, Granny, Grandpa, Lizzie, Jackson the Second, Jackson the Third, Aunt Maggie, and Hank the Shepherd

Odile smiled fondly, reading over the letter. She missed her family more and more every day, even her Aunt Maggie, despite her crotchety attitude. She hugged her letter to herself, fighting back the tears forming. She brushed her hand over the brown paper package, a fond smile at the familiar wrapping. She missed the eyes of a certain Gryffindor in the process, but it certainly wouldn't be the last look.

A/N: Ah, yes. Because if you didn't get enough action in the last chapter, you got some more here.

Also, I hope you guys aren't uncomfortable with this side of the story. There's like one more chapter with sensual themes, much later on, but that's it. If this stuff makes y'all not like the story, just drop me a comment or a PM. I posted this story because I love it, but also because I want others to enjoy it. If you're not, just let me know, and I'll see if I can fix it.

So, you learned a little more about her prickly relationship with her father, the dick. God, I hate him, and I wrote him. Annnnyyyway, I hope you enjoyed it! And I hope you all have a great weekend!

Updated A/N: Not sure if I made it less steamy or more steamy... eh.

THANK YOU TO PippaLuck FOR FOLLOWING THIS STORY!

THANK YOU TO BananaBoat570 FOR FAVOURITING THIS STORY

EDITED= 09/19/21