"I'd rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without knowing you."

-John Smith (Pocahontas)

"Fred? There you are. I thought I heard you come in…what's going on? What happened?"

Fred didn't even move at the sound of his twin's voice, which was probably a first. He was still standing in the hallway, completely dumbstruck by Scarlett's outburst. So much had happened in the past half an hour that he didn't know what to do or think. He had heard her lock the door and the window, and he was pretty sure she had charmed them both so that Alohomora would be useless. He was scared. He had been so glad to be finally pulling Scarlett out of that dark hole she had closed herself into and now she was slipping away again.

"Fred, talk to me," George said, panic finding its way into his voice. "What's wrong? Where's Scarlett?"

"Did Erica tell you about the funeral?" Fred finally asked.

"Yeah, Mum's beyond angry. When I left to come find you, she was ranting to Dad and Muriel and taking her anger out on every kitchen object involved in making tea."

Fred sighed and ran a hand through his hair before turning to his twin. He quickly filled him on what had happened in the time after Erica had left up until Scarlett had made a run for her bedroom. "She's a mess, George," he said. "I've got to go after her." He turned and started towards Scarlett's room, but George stopped him.

"Don't, Fred. Just leave her."

"Why?" Fred asked. He felt confused to say the least. Usually, he knew George's reasoning for almost everything, but not this time.

"She needs her space right now. Just let her cool down and try her later."

"But what if she won't let me in later?" Fred asked. "What if she closes herself down like she did when she first got here? I mean, she's already doing it. She's locked everything and put up charms."

"She'll let you in. She always ends up letting you in."

"I don't know, George," Fred said. "You didn't see the way she snapped at me. She's never done that before."

"Well, going to her room now isn't going to do anything. The only thing that can possibly make things better is time," George said reasonably.

Fred sighed. He knew his twin was right, but he didn't want to listen. Scarlett was hurting and he wanted to make the hurt go away. He wanted to protect her and help her and he couldn't do any of that if she wouldn't let him in. "She's a mess," he finally whispered. "She's so sad."

"I know," George said. "It's normal. I would be, too, if I had gone through what she did."

"The things Mrs. Finch-Fletchley said to her…." Fred began, shaking his head. He lifted his eyes to look at George. "She accused Scarlett of killing both of her kids. As if she physically ended their lives herself. As if she aimed her wand at them and shouted the killing curse. And then she called her a worthless brat who tore her family apart." He gave a dry, disbelieving laugh. "It's insane. I understand she's upset, but any rational person would know that's not who Scarlett is. Hell, Mr. Finch-Fletchley even knew it! And now Scarlett's going to let it go to her head. She's going to believe every word."

"Well, eventually you'll have to make her see the truth, but not now. Nothing good will come out of trying to force yourself in there now."

"So I should wait for her to come to me?" Fred asked. He felt totally helpless and it wasn't a good feeling.

"You might have to," George said. "How about if she doesn't come downstairs by dinner, you can go up and try her room. If that doesn't work, try again tomorrow. Keep trying little by little until she lets you in. If you want, I can even give it a try and I'm sure Ginny and Erica will be willing to help as well."

"Fine," Fred agreed, shaking his head again. "I just…I'm worried about her. Everything that's been happening…it's a lot. It's too much for one person to handle alone. She needs someone but doesn't realize it."

"She'll talk," George said reassuringly. "She just needs her space right now, but I'm willing to bet that she'll talk to you by tomorrow night. And if you need any help, just let me know."

Fred nodded and hoped George was right. He didn't know how long he could be patient. Even waiting until after dinner was going to be a struggle. He just wanted Scarlett to be happy again, but he knew that what she really wanted was something he couldn't give her.

During dinner later that night, Fred was quiet. He was simply going through the motions of eating just so he could be finished to go see Scarlett.

"Fred, are you okay?" his mother asked quietly. "You haven't said much."

"He's worried about Scarlett," George said.

"We all are, dear," Mrs. Weasley said sadly. "I wish she hadn't barricaded herself in her room. I was hoping she'd come down and eat."

"I was planning on bringing her some food after we were done," Fred said. "It might be easier to convince her to eat if I brought it to her and she didn't have to come down and sit here if she isn't ready."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and nodded. "That's very nice of you, but do you think she'll open the door?"

Fred shrugged. "I don't know, but I'm hoping I'll be able to convince her to. And George, Ginny and Erica agreed to try to convince her if she won't listen to me."

Once again, the room was thrown into silence. Thunder was rolling in the distance. A sudden flash of lightning momentarily lit up the room with a bright white light, and a moment later, the rain started. It came down in sheets, splashing against the window and pounding against the roof.

"I think I'm going to go try Scarlett now," Fred said, standing up to clear his dish. "I'll get some things from the kitchen to bring up to her."

"Good luck, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, reaching up and squeezing his arm.

Fred gave her a half smile and left the room. By the time he had rinsed his dish in the sink and started putting together some food for Scarlett, the thunder had gotten louder, the lightning had gotten brighter, and they had both gotten more frequent. It was a terrible storm; the kind that Fred and George had loved as kids, but Scarlett had always hated. She used to be afraid of thunder, Fred remembered with a small smile. There had been one time, when they were about seven, when Scarlett had been staying at the Burrow overnight. There had been a thunderstorm and it had taken only one clap of thunder for Scarlett to come bursting into Fred and George's room. By the second, she was catapulting herself onto Fred's bed and hiding under the covers.

"You're going to suffocate that way," Fred had mumbled, propping himself up on one elbow and pulling the blankets off of her face.

"Not if the thunder gets me first," she had whispered.

Fred could remember laughing at her. "Scar, thunder can't hurt you. It's the lightning you have to watch out for. It'll fry you to a crisp if you aren't careful."

"You'd better hope I don't fry you to a crisp," Scarlett retaliated, hiding under the covers again.

A second or two had passed before Fred pulled them back, looked down at her and said, "Racing brooms."

"Daisies," Scarlett had answered with a grin.

"Pranks."

"Marshmallow Every Flavored Beans."

It had been their little game. Whenever they were upset or scared, they would list all of the things that made them happy. For some reason, Fred could remember this particular time fairly well.

"Food in general."

"Ganging up on Percy."

"Percy's reaction to us ganging up on him."

"Climbing trees."

"Quidditch."

"Raw cookie dough."

"You."

Scarlett had blinked up at him a few times in surprise and Fred could remember holding his breath, thinking for some reason that she'd be upset with him for saying that. But instead, she had smiled and whispered, "You stole my next answer."

"You were going to say yourself?" Fred asked.

"No, I was going to say you, silly."

Now, standing in Muriel's kitchen, Fred found himself staring absentmindedly out the kitchen window, his hands resting on the edge of the sink and a nostalgic smile on his face as he remembered that night. He was jolted out of his trance by another loud clap of thunder and he hurriedly picked up Scarlett's food before making his way upstairs. When he reached Scarlett's room, he inclined his head towards the door and gently rapped on the dark wood with his knuckles.

"Scar?" he asked quietly. He waited a second and when there was no answer, he tried again. "I brought you something to eat. I—I understand you need your space, but I can't let you sit up here. Everyone else is worried about you too, and if you don't open the door for me, you'll have to listen to Ginny, George and Erica try to get you to open it as well because we're not letting you barricade yourself in there this time. We all—." He stopped suddenly as the sound of banging came from Scarlett's room. What was going on? Tentatively, he reached out and gripped the doorknob. To his surprise, it turned. That was odd. He could have sworn he had heard her lock the door, the window, and put charms over both. He was suddenly gripped with the feeling that something was terribly wrong, which caused him to fling the door open. What he saw made his mouth drop open in shock.

The banging sound was coming from the window, which was unlatched and wide open, banging against the wall in the wind from the storm. The curtains were fluttering and rain was coming into the room. But worst of all, Scarlett was gone.

Fred immediately ran for the window, depositing the plate of food on the dresser as he went. When he reached the opposite side of the room, he gripped the windowsill and peered outside, searching the yard for any sign of movement. He didn't see anything, but it was also dark and stormy. Just then, he noticed the tree. The oak tree with the branch that extended close enough to the window for someone to crawl out. Scarlett had either climbed out willingly, or someone had broken through the protective charms around the house and the window, climbed in and taken her. Maybe that option was a little unlikely, but it wasn't totally impossible and in Fred's panic, it was the only thought he could latch on to. She had been taken from him once and he couldn't bare it if it happened again.

With trembling hands, Fred pulled his head back inside, shut the window, locked it again and ran out of the room. He raced down the stairs, nearly stumbling a few times, and ran towards the dining room. He skidded to a stop in the doorway, almost smashing into the doorframe. He didn't know what his expression looked like, but it must have been worrisome, because his family was looking at him in alarm.

"What's wrong?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"It's Scarlett," Fred panted. "She's gone."

Scarlett knew a storm was coming before it actually started raining. She could hear the thunder, but she didn't care. She had gone through all the trouble of sneaking out of Muriel's house and Apparating to the cemetery and she wasn't about to leave now.

She had hiked back up the hill to Justin's grave and had flung herself down practically on top of it. The gravestone obviously wasn't put in yet, but there was a mound of dirt where the hole had been filled in, and Scarlett was lying across it. One arm was stretched out on the dirt and supporting her head while the other hand absentmindedly drew patterns in the ground.

Tears were streaming down her face; she had been crying on and off since she had gotten back to Muriel's. She hadn't planned on coming back to Justin's grave that day, but once she had read his letter, she had to. After reading that letter, she had sobbed harder than ever for what felt like hours before making the decision to return to the cemetery.

She had gotten there about ten minutes ago and now it was thundering. A minute later, the rain finally started to come down. Scarlett didn't move. She was soaked and shivering in a matter of seconds, but she didn't plan on leaving. She wasn't finished here yet. She had always felt comfortable talking to her dad when she visited his grave, but now, visiting Justin, there was so much for her to say and she had no idea how to say it. But she wasn't going to leave until she did say it.

The words Justin had written in the letter suddenly flooded her mind again, causing a fresh wave of grief and tears to hit her like a ton of bricks.

"You were so stupid, Justin," she cried. "So stupid. But you were also a hero and I can't thank you enough. I'm so sorry for what happened. I didn't mean for it to end this way, I swear. You were such a great person. I wanted you to be safe, but I wasn't quick enough and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the grief your family has to go through and I'm sorry that things didn't end so well between us. I wish I could have told you again in person how sorry I truly am and how much you meant to me." She had barely finished her sentence before she was too overcome by sobs to speak. "I miss you," she finally whispered, curling herself into the fetal position. "Please come back."

A large clap of thunder sounded and Scarlett flinched slightly, but other than that, she didn't move. When a bolt of lightning lit up the sky a moment later, she could practically hear Fred in the back of her mind saying it would fry her to a crisp if she wasn't careful. But still, she didn't move. She was shaking from cold and from the force of her sobs. Tears were mixing with raindrops on her face and she knew she was getting muddy. It didn't matter, though. Nothing mattered anymore. All she could think about was that she had lost both Justin and her mother and that maybe Mrs. Finch-Fletchley was right in saying it was all her fault. She couldn't help these thoughts from flowing through her mind on an endless loop. She tried to push them away, but they didn't budge. All they did was make her cry harder. She was confused, afraid, miserable and lonely, even though she also didn't want to be with people. She didn't know what she wanted and all of these emotions at once were making her feel like she was suffocating.

She actually couldn't say she was surprised, though, when she felt someone gently pulling her onto their lap, and she also knew just who that person was. She had removed the charm from the bedroom door after all, but she had hoped nobody would guess where she was so quickly.

She found herself not even caring about isolating herself anymore, though, as she sobbed into Fred's chest for the second time in two days. She let him wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly as he rocked her back and forth.

"I'm taking you back to Muriel's," he said after a minute. "Right now."

"No, Fred, I'm not leaving," Scarlett said, shaking her head. She tried to wiggle out of his lap, but he held her tight.

"You can't stay here," he told her firmly. "Have you seen this storm?"

As if to prove his point, a loud clap of thunder boomed around them, followed by a flash of lightning.

"I don't care about the storm!" Scarlett cried.

"You can't stay here," Fred repeated, slower and more forcefully this time. "I'm not letting you. Come on." He began to stand up with her still in his arms and even though Scarlett tried to squirm out of his grasp, he held her tight.

"Let me go! Fred Weasley, you put me down right now," Scarlett ordered.

"No," Fred argued, his voice strained as he struggled to keep her in his arms.

"Please," Scarlett begged, still sobbing. "I don't want to leave him. I don't want him to be gone. I miss him, I miss my mother, and I just don't know what to do anymore!" She was in hysterics and she couldn't stop it. It was the lowest she had felt since her mother and Justin had been killed. She had thought she couldn't feel any worse, but apparently she had been wrong.

"Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett," Fred said. "Stop for a minute. Just stop and look at me!" He set her down and grabbed her arms, turning her to face him.

Scarlett didn't know what it was, maybe it was the desperation and force in his voice, but she stopped sobbing and looked up at him, frozen and wide eyed. She was breathing heavily and was still crying, but only a little. Looking up into Fred's face, she seemed to know exactly what he was feeling. He was worried about her, but he was also angry that she had snuck out and she suddenly felt totally ashamed of herself.

"Fred, I'm scared," she whispered, her voice wavering. "What's wrong with me?"

Fred's expression softened and he pulled her to him. "Nothing's wrong with you."

Scarlett didn't respond. Instead, she pressed her cheek into Fred's rain-soaked shirt and shivered slightly. The storm was letting up now, the thunder sounding quieter and further away, but it was still cold.

"Come on, we've got to get back," Fred said quietly, pulling away and taking her hand. "You can come back another time, okay?"

Scarlett turned and gave Justin's grave one last look. "Okay," she agreed. She was too exhausted to try and fight back anymore. It was like she had suddenly been drained of whatever energy she had left and now she was purely exhausted. It was just so much easier to let Fred take her back to Muriel's and take care of her.

Fred squeezed her hand and seconds later, they were back at the old Victorian house. Scarlett found herself simply letting Fred lead her through the front door. She was only mildly surprised to see everyone milling about anxiously in the front hallway.

"Oh, Scarlett, you're okay!" Mrs. Weasley gasped. "We were so worried and hoped Fred was right when he said he had an idea about where you were. We-,"
"Mum," Fred whispered, and Scarlett saw him shake his head out of the corner of her eye. "I'm going to go help her get cleaned up. Ginny, will you grab her a change of clothes and meet me in the bathroom across the hall from her room?"

Ginny nodded and immediately dashed up the stairs, while Mrs. Weasley turned for the kitchen. "I'm going to get her a pepper-up potion to prevent her from getting sick. Heaven's knows what her immune system is like and I doubt the rain helped."

Scarlett kept her eyes downcast as Fred guided her towards the stairs, one hand lightly on her lower back. She refused to look up and meet anyone's eyes, even though she knew they were all looking at her. She still felt ashamed for leaving without any notice, but she had needed to get out and she couldn't very well tell anyone.

Finally, they reached the bathroom and Scarlett stared at her reflection in the mirror with a look of disgust. She was drenched, muddy and pale. She hadn't changed out of her dress before leaving the house, and it was also splattered with mud.

She looked up in surprise as Fred shut and locked the door. "You're staying?" she asked.

Fred nodded, his expression solemn as he crossed to the shower and pushed the curtain aside. "Get in."

Scarlett shot him a confused look, but did as he said. Immediately, he slid the curtain closed.

"Take off your clothes and pass them to me," he ordered.

Scarlett obeyed him, sticking her arm around the curtain to pass him her soaking wet and dirty clothes. Then, she turned the shower on and let the hot water wash over her. She wasn't going to lie; it felt incredible.

After a minute, she heard a knock on the door. Fred answered it and she heard Ginny dropping off the change of clothes and the pepper-up potion before the door was shut again.

Ten minutes later, Scarlett turned the water off and Fred passed her a towel almost immediately. She wrapped herself in it and sighed as she leaned against the shower wall and listened to the silence. It was almost tense and she knew Fred was still a little mad at her.

"Ready for your clothes?" he asked, his tone even, practically confirming Scarlett's suspicions.

Scarlett reached her hand around the curtain and felt Fred press her pajamas into her hand. She retracted her hand and dressed in silence. When she was finished, she pushed back the shower curtain and stepped out. Fred was leaning against the door, staring at her, his arms crossed and his expression neutral.

Scarlett looked away and picked up her hairbrush, which she had left on the counter that morning. She ran it through her hair a few times, making eye contact with Fred in the mirror as she did so. "You're mad at me," she finally stated, pulling her damp hair into a ponytail.

"No," Fred answered, shaking his head. "I'm not."

"You are," she replied, lowering her hands from her hair and turning towards him, leaning backwards against the counter. "I can tell. You're mad that I disappeared on you."

Fred looked away and began picking absently at a chip in the paint on the wall. "Do you remember when Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Yes," Scarlett replied slowly, unsure of where he was going with this.

"And do you remember when Ron was poisoned last year?"

"Yes, I remember."

"And what about when Bill was attacked by Greyback? And when George lost an ear?"

"Those aren't events that are easy to forget, Fred."

Fred turned back to her and crossed his arms again. "Those instances, in addition to the night where you were kidnapped, where the five most terrifying nights of my life. And tonight was the sixth. I thought you had somehow been taken again. I didn't know where you were. And even if you had left willingly, it was storming out and it was dangerous. I kept thinking the worst. I knew you weren't dead, of course, but still…I was scared."

Scarlett sighed and buried her face in her hands. "Fred, I'm so sorry," she whispered, raising her head. "I feel bad for leaving like that, but I needed to….I wasn't thinking straight…I read Justin's letter and I needed to go."

"I get it," Fred said, "but I just panicked, you know? And I want to help you so badly, but I don't know how to do that."

"You have helped, actually. Quite a bit."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't feel like it."

They didn't say anything for a moment. Finally, Scarlett noticed that Fred was still soaking wet and a bit muddy. She tilted her head towards the shower. "Were you going to…?"

"No," Fred answered, looking down at himself as if he had also just realized his appearance. "I'd rather focus on you right now."

"But—"

Fred picked up his wand and waved it over himself, casting both a drying and cleaning charm. "That'll have to do for now," he said. He moved to stand in front of her and grabbed something lying on the counter beside her hand. "Here, drink this," he said, passing her the pepper-up potion.

"What about you?" she asked.

"Mum sent me one of my own. I drank it already," Fred said with a tiny smirk.

Scarlett nodded and downed the potion, wrinkling her nose as it burned her throat. It warmed her up even more, though and for that she was grateful.

"Tastes nasty, doesn't it?" Fred asked.

She nodded and set the empty vial down on the counter before sighing and rubbing her eyes with her fists.

Fred leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead. Scarlett practically melted into his touch. She wished she knew how to express how appreciative she was of him. Now that she had gotten the opportunity to let all her feelings out and calm down, she wished she had never shut him out. She was relaxed with him and she could think clearer.

"Come on," Fred said quietly, pulling back and taking her hand.

"Where are we going?"

"To the living room. I can build a fire in the fireplace and make us hot chocolate."

"I'm a lot warmer now, though," Scarlett said.

"I'm sure, but it's still cold out and you were out in the rain for a while."

Just as they were passing Scarlett's room, she stopped, pulling on Fred's hand slightly to get him to stop as well. "Just hold on one minute," she whispered. "I want to get something."

"Okay," Fred answered, giving her a look of confusion.

Scarlett slipped her hand out of his and went into her room. She grabbed Justin's letter off of her bed as well as the object that had been included with it in the envelope. She stuck the second item in her pocket before heading back into the hallway. She knew Fred noticed the letter, but he didn't make a comment as she took his hand again and they resumed the walk downstairs.

Scarlett made herself comfortable on the couch as Fred started a fire and headed to the kitchen to make hot chocolate. While Scarlett waited for him to return, she fumbled with the letter in her hands, thinking over what it had said for the millionth time. Oddly, though, no tears came anymore. It was as if she didn't have any left to cry.

"Here you are," Fred said, returning with two steaming mugs. He held one out to her and she dropped the letter in her lap so that she could take the mug.

"It smells delicious," she said, cradling it in her hands and scrunching her shoulders up as Fred sat next to her.

He smiled slightly and spun his own mug slowly in his hands as he stared into the fire.

Scarlett sighed and set her mug down on the end table beside the couch. She picked up the letter again and handed it to Fred. "I wanted you to read this."

Fred blinked at her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'm positive."

Fred stared at her a moment longer before shifting his gaze to the paper in his hands. Scarlett pulled her legs up under her and leaned closer, reading the words along with him.

Dear Scarlett, the letter began.

I've sat down to write this letter about ten times by now, but each time I've struggled to find the right words. This time, though, I'm just going to get them all out.

I guess I should start by apologizing for the way I acted on the day things ended between us. I was cruel and I said a lot of things I didn't mean. Once I went into hiding, I had plenty of time to think things through, and you were right. I know the kind of person you are and nothing you did was to intentionally hurt me. You just didn't know how to say any of it, which I can understand. I also realize that it was rash of me to jump to the conclusion that you had cheated on me. You're not like that and I was—and still am—totally aware of it.

That being said, I'm not going to lie to you. I was upset and hurt. All that news at once was a lot for me to handle and I just lost it. You know why Fred was a threat to me. He and George were always so cool and popular. I felt like I had nothing to offer compared to them. And then I not only lost Angelina to them, but you as well and I had no control over it. I had no idea what to do. I felt worthless. I felt like in the end, nobody would want me when there were better options out there. Options like Fred.

I also know how you really feel about him. When you told me about the vow, you told me you had no feelings for him, but were you aware that your face turned bright pink and you wouldn't quite meet my eyes? The realization that you had developed true feelings for him crushed me. But again, I had lots of time to think once I went into hiding and I realized that at some point you loved me as well. I don't know when I lost you, what I did to lose you, or what Fred did better, but I want you to know that I am honored to have had someone like you care about me, no matter for how little time it was.

I know how sorry you are for everything that's happened and I want you to know that I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry for how I behaved and for what I said to you. I'm even sorry for punching Fred. But most of all, I'm sorry that things had to end the way they did. I'm sorry I saw to it that things ended on such a bad note. I hope you can forgive me for being so horrible to you. You don't deserve it.

You're a wonderful person, Scarlett Callaway. You're beautiful, smart, funny, and you care so much about other people that you almost care too much. You also probably saved my life by warning me about Umbridge and I'll be forever grateful. I hope you know how much I've appreciated knowing you and getting the opportunity to date you. I hope that once this war's over, we can be friends again and maybe, just maybe, I can try to make things right with Fred. Anything to make sure you won't walk out of my life for good because I don't want to lose you completely. You're one of those people that others want to hold onto forever in some form or another and I hope Fred knows that. Maybe you can tell him that from me. Tell him that he's lucky to have made that vow with you and he should cherish you every single day because it only takes an instant for things to change. I learned that the hard way.

Hopefully this letter finds you safe and well and I hope to see you soon. I miss you and thank you again for warning me about Umbridge. I know what you risked to do that and it means a lot.

Love, Justin

P.S. I know how much you loved the locket I gave you, so I wanted you to have it back. I have no use for it and besides, it looked prettier on you.

Scarlett finished reading first and glanced up at Fred as he read the last few sentences. His expression was unreadable and she wondered what he was thinking.

"Scar," he finally breathed. He finally turned to look at her and Scarlett was surprised to see tears in his eyes. "I don't know what to say except for now I can see how this would tear you apart. I just keep trying to imagine how you must have felt reading this."

Scarlett nodded and pulled the necklace from her pocket, threading the chain through her fingers. "I wish I had gotten the opportunity to read the letter before he died. I didn't want to lose his friendship either."

"If you could tell him one thing, what would it be?" Fred asked, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

Scarlett let out a slow puff of air through her mouth. "I don't know. I think I would tell him that he's not worthless and that he's special, even if he doesn't believe it. He would've found another girl to love him. A girl that was more perfect for him than I was."

Fred nodded. "I would tell him I'm sorry for being so mean to him…and that I'm not as cool as he thinks."

Scarlett smiled. "Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not. I'm a school dropout."

"You run a successful joke shop that everyone loves. That's impressive. And joke shops are very cool if you ask me."

"Muriel doesn't think so."

"Well, she's over a hundred years old. She's out of the loop," Scarlett smiled.

Fred laughed. After a moment, he spoke again. "Justin's a good guy, you know. He did make you happy at one point and he saved your life."

Scarlett looked up at him in surprise. "You called him Justin."

"Yeah," Fred whispered. "I did."

Scarlett smiled before stretching upwards slightly and pressing a slow, gentle kiss to his lips. "Thank you," she said when she pulled away.

Fred smiled back and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Why did you hate Justin so much before?" she whispered. "Will you finally tell me now?"

Fred hesitated before nodding. "It's stupid now. It was always stupid, actually, but…he took you away from me. I felt as if I had been replaced when you became friends with him at school, even though you and I hadn't talked in years. Like I told you before, I didn't know how to rekindle our friendship, and it looked as if you were happier with him than you would be with me. And even after you and I started talking again, I could see how much you still cared for him…you were dating him. I just felt like he would always be your number one guy, but it hurt because that guy used to be me. And then I started liking you and that just gave me more incentive to dislike him. And he was rich and smart and...I felt like nothing."

Scarlett half smiled. "Funny, that's why he hated you. You were popular and funny and everyone loved you. And he was friends with Angelina before Hogwarts and felt that you and George took her from him. And then he had a crush on her, but you took her to the Yule Ball. That's what he meant in the letter, by the way, when he said you and George took her away from him."

"Ah," Fred said. He let out a tiny laugh and shook his head. "So stupid," he whispered. "It really was all just stupid. And the sad thing is if we weren't so jealous of each other, we probably could've been friends."

Scarlett smiled sadly. "You probably could have." She sighed and leaned into him, closing her eyes. Fred turned and reached behind him with one hand to grab the blanket resting on the back of the couch. Scarlett snuggled even closer to him as he pulled it around them. She couldn't help but break into a smile as she opened her eyes and fiddled with the blanket's edges.

"What are you smiling about?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This blanket…your mother would be happy we're using it." She rested her cheek on his shoulder. "They make people fall in love, isn't that right?"

Fred let out a quiet laugh and laced his fingers through Scarlett's. "Yes, they do," he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. "Yes, they do."