As Fred made his way down to the Dungeons, he could feel the dread pooling in his stomach. Not only was this a detention with Snape which was bad enough, but he also had to spend however long this torture was going to last with Lilith Lestrange of all people, who was known for being, to put it delicately, a mega bitch.

In six years of school he had little contact with the Slytherin, aside from the odd prank that was never received well. But as far as Fred was concerned she cold, distant, and she knew more hexes than anyone else in school.

As he enters the potions classroom she's already sat at one of the tables, not even acknowledging his presence as he walks in and takes a seat of his own. Fine. If she wanted to spend it in silence, so would he.

When Snape walks in with Filch in toe Fred sits up from his slumped position on the desk, not liking the look of the cleaning supplies the caretaker had brought in with him.

Snape looks between the two before finally speaking. "You will scrub every cauldron, inside and out, without magic, until they are spotless. Mr Filch."

On que, Filch drops the bucket of brushes and soap down onto the floor with a smug satisfied look on his face.

"I except every single one to be done this evening. You will remain here until it's done."

"Professor, I don't mean to be rude, but I do have an Arithmancy test tomorrow morning." Lilith chimes in.

"Then I would suggest it's in your best interest to scrub quickly Ms Lestrange. I would have hoped one of my Prefects wouldn't end up in detention in the first place."

Fred sees her roll her eyes, look her jaw, but she doesn't argue back.

They had been scrubbing for an hour in silence. The only noise coming from the thistles on the large pewter cauldrons, and it felt more boring than an afterlife spent with Professor Biggs. At least if George was there they would be having a laugh or joking around, something to past the time. But right then it felt like time seemed to be turning backwards.

Fred looks over at her, smirking slightly as he watches her bend over the cauldron as she cleans the inside. He decides against his better judgment to break the silence.

"So, this must be new for you. Manual labour."

She doesn't say anything, so he clears his throat. "I said - "

"I heard what you said." Her voice echoes in the cauldron before she finally lifts her head and looks back at him. She brushes her back, scowls. He swallows hard. "Did you think attempting to insult me would make me want to strike up conversation?" She says.

"Well, you're talking now, aren't you?"

She rolls her eyes and goes back to scrubbing.

Fred watches her for a moment, eyes focusing on the splint on her wrist. "How is it?"

"How's what?"

"Your wrist?"

Her eyes wander over to him for a moment, like she was trying to see if he was being sincere or not.

"It's fine. Who knew your body could cause such an impact?"

"Well I am pretty impactful." He chuckles but she doesn't laugh back. "Why were you late anyway, prefect?"

"Why were you?" She asks back.

"Boy stuff." He says with a smirk.

She rolls her eyes. "You're vile."

"So why were - "

"Look Weasley. I just want to get through these detentions with as minimal pain as possible. So, if you wouldn't please mind shutting up so I can get on with this?"

He scowls slightly, but doesn't say a word, and they spend the rest of the evening in silence.

Fred likes mad eye, he was a lot more fun than most of the other teachers, and everyone was terrified of him which made classes more entertaining than most.

As they sat there waiting for the teacher Fred eye catches Lilith at the front of the class next to Cordelia Travers, and he lets out a huff as he recalls the previous nights events. What. A. Bitch. Still, he finds himself watching her as she brushes her long dark hair back. She was pretty, Fred had always known that. Hell the Gryffindor boys always ranked her first in their late night conversations. It was just a shame she had the personality of a Heberdien Black.

"What are you staring at?" He hears his twin chime up and Fred finally forces himself to look away.

"Nothing." He shrugs as leans back in his chair, trying to convince himself that Lilith wasn't that pretty. Still, his eyes flicker up again and watches her as she talks to Cordelia, wetting her lips slightly as she talks. He starts staring again.

As the old grouch stumbled into view from the top of the stairs the class quickly shuts up. He dumps a jar with a rather large Spider on his desk before turning to the class.

"I taught the fourth years about this so I don't see why you lot shouldn't learn about them, Hogwash to what McGonagall says."

Fred and George exchange a look. If McGonagall banned it, then it was going to be good.

"What are the Unforgivable curses?"

No one says a word.

"Come on now, you can't all be this thick. Lestrange, you should know the answer to this."

Fred could see Lilith's jaw tighten. "I don't"

"No?"

"No." She very clearly lies, sinking down in her seat slightly.

"The Imperious curse." Angelina pipes up from behind Fred, but Moody's eyes are still focused on Lilith for a split second.

"Very good Miss Johnson. The imperious curse. Not the worse of the curses, but forced to act against your will, the memory of the things you've done while under it - " He stops, smirks. "I've known a wizard or two take their life after dealing with that one."

More silence. Apparently, this wasn't going to be the fun filled lesson everyone was expecting.

"Anyone else?"

"The killing curse." Cedric calls out from the back of the room.

"The more forgiving of the three if you ask me. Instant death. Little pain. And the third?"

The class remains silent for a moment, but Fred decides to break it.

"The Cruiciatus Curse."

"Or the Torture curse as it's known. One of the most heinous acts in wizardry was preformed using that curse. Two Aurors, were driving mad by the suffering they endured under that curse, and I helped - to put away those Deatheaters for good."

A Hufflepuff in the back raises a hand. "Can we ask who professor?"

Moody's magic eye shifts over to Lilith who is now staring straight ahead.

"Barty Crouch Junior." His voice stiffens as he says it. "Along with Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange."

"You missed one." Someone in the back chimes up and everyone including a few of the Slytherins in the class start laughing. Fred remains in silence as he watches her.

Her jaw tightens.

The laughter dies as she stands from the desk, slamming her book shut before storming out of the classroom.

Again, the detention had been silent.

Snape's grand idea this time was to re-arrange everything in the ingredient's cupboard alphabetically and re-label them.

Every. Single. Jar.

Fred hadn't mentioned the class earlier and she seemed to be avoiding any sort of eye contact with him. Lilith keeps her head down, writing all the labels in her incredibly neat handwriting. He stares at her for the longest time, willing her to look up at him, but after a few minutes he sighs and reaches over to grab the nearest jar.

"Mm - Rat Spleen. My favourite."

Lilith doesn't look up from the piece of paper she's writing on.

"Then again sloth brain is so inviting too."

She remains silent and Fred lets out a huff as he decides to try a different approach.

"That was a very intense Dark Arts lesson today."

Lilith stops writing for a moment and he can see her considering it. She finally looks up at him and he tries not to smile. "Was it?"

"Well, I thought so." He says honestly. "With the curses, all that stuff. Pretty scary when you think about it"

She says nothing.

He drums his fingers on the desk. Huffs. "I didn't laugh you know. When they were."

"I wouldn't care if you had." She says coldly and he starts to wonder why he's bothering, but the nagging voice inside his head tells him to persist.

"Well, you seemed...upset."

She scoffs. "I'm sorry.I forgot. I'm not meant to have feelings. I'll remember that next time."

His stomach drops slightly. "Well, at least you admitted you have some." He half jokes, but she doesn't reciprocate as she moves onto the next jar.

This wasn't going as well as he had hoped.

"Do you, uh - " He doesn't know if he should pry, or if she would just get angry at him for doing so.

"What?" She asks, the annoyance in her tone obvious.

"Do you ever see your - " Fred notices the glare and stops, not wanting to cause an argument.

"You can't visit people in Azkaban. No, I don't remember what they are like. Yes, I know the names of the Aurors they tortured. No, I won't tell you who they are."

Her eyes drop down again and she continues writing. Fred can only wonder how many people had already asked her the same questions about her parents.

But he knew who they Aurors were.

He had heard his parents talking about it one night when he had snuck downstairs to get biscuits from the kitchen. He remembers feeling horrified, but he had kept his mouth shut because out of him and George he was better at keeping secrets. Besides, Longbottom was already a target with the Slytherins without having them know about that as well.

He taps the quill against the parchment as he watches her scribble down the ingredients, and then he just finds himself blurting it out.

"I know it was the Longbottom's." He admits and slowly her eyes rise to meet his.

She looks terrified. He wasn't expecting that.

"No. It's not."

"It is."

"It's not!" She persists, and he's certain there was a shake in her voice. "How would you even – "

"I heard my parents talking about it once." He says quietly.

She seems shaken at his words, and she drops the quill on the desk as she stares at him. "You can't - " She starts to breath harder and Fred's certain he can hear her heart pounding. "Have you told anyone?"

"No."

"George?"

"Any one else in your idiotic family?"

He bites his tongue. "...No."

"Well, good. So just keep your mouth shut."

Fred raises an eyebrow.

"Weasley, I mean it."

"And if I do?" The anger that flashes across her face makes him realises it was the wrong this to say.

"Look fly boy, I don't need anyone, especially Slytherins, knowing it's Neville's parents. They bully him enough already! Can you imagine what they would do to him, what they would say, if they knew the daughter of his parents' torturers was in the same school with him? Neville would never hear the end of it. I mean he doesn't even look at me now, do you know what it would be like for him if everyone else knew?"

It takes him fully by surpse.

"Promise me Fred. If not for me, for Neville. You won't tell anyone."

Fred for a brief moment was going to remain silent but he can't help himself. The stupid little voice in his head wouldn't stop talking. "Why do you care? I would have thought you would have taken pleasure in torturing him about it."

He regrets saying it when he sees the hurt on her face.

"It's funny how people think they know me, when in six years they haven't spoken a word to me."

He stammers."I didn't mean – "

"No, I know exactly what you meant. I'm a Slytherin and a Lestrange at that. So, I must be an evil bitch."

Fred wished in that moment he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"You don't think I know what people have said about me? That I don't hear them call me Deatheater when I walk past them?" She stands up from the desk, placing her palms flat on the wood. "That I don't hear you and your moronic Gryffindors call me it? Lunatic Lestrange? That was pretty fucking original."

Fred lowers his gaze as the guilt overwhelms him, unable to look at her as she starts gathering up the jars with their fresh labels. "I mean it Fred, if you cared about Neville at all you'll keep your mouth shut."

Fred sits in the silence for a while as he listens to the rattles of jars emit from the potions cupboard. Her words play over and over in his head as the sickness in his stomach doesn't subside. He's not sure how long it's been when he picks up a jar and follows her into the cupboard, spinning it between his hands. She's stood in the corner staring at the jars, avoiding him as always.

"I wouldn't have said anything. I swear. I kept my mouth shut for this long didn't I?"

She rolls her eyes.

"And you're right. I don't know you. Certainly didn't realise you Slytherin's had hearts. "

There's a slight blush in her face. She looks almost embarrassed as she takes the jar from him.

"Well, don't go around telling anyone. I do have a reputation to protect after all."

He smirks slightly as he leans against the door frame, watching her as she sorts the ingredients on the shelf. "Lestrange?"

Fred notices her grimace slightly as she turns around to face him. "What?"

"I'm sorry, if i was ever an asshole to you.

She looks at him puzzled. "It's not like you were the only one, or the worse one." She faces the jar forward, sighing slightly as she turns to him. "You know, this doesn't make us friends Weasley. Just cause you know that about me and Neville - we're not friends."

Fred nods. "Who said anything about us being friends?"

Fred walked up the steps to the Boys dormitory, feeling the strain fin his hand.

He flexes his fingers, twists his wrist.

He can't stop thinking about Lestrange. As bizarre a notion that was.

George is already in their dormitory, working on the potion they had started as soon as they heard the cup would be age restricted, and his head perks up when Fred walks in, a grin appearing on his face.

"I think I almost have it."

"Well we still have a few days." Fred sighs as he collapses on his bed. Right then he didn't care about the potion.

"How was it? As horrid as last night?"

Fred stares at the top of the bed for a moment before looking over to his brother. "Actually...no, it wasn't."

"Oh?"

Fred forces himself up and sits on the edge of the bed as he watches his brother with the cauldron in front of him.

"Actually, she's not...terrible looking, is she?"

George raises a curious eyebrow. "Lestrange?"

"Well, I mean she's pretty." Fred wanted to say beautiful, but he can already tell his brother is wondering if he's lost all sanity in that moment. "Don't you think?"

"Lestrange?" His twin repeats, still seemingly confused. "Sure, but who cares?

'I mean, we've never spoken to her or...actually got to know her."

"I've never sat down for tea with a Dementor either but that doesn't mean I want to."

Fred rolls his eyes as he stands and tugs his jumper off.

"What the bloody hell happened in that detention?"

He didn't really know if he should tell George or if his twin would judge him for it. "We talked, that's all. She's not that bad."

"I mean, if you can call being a Deatheater not that bad."

"Well she isn't one, is she." There was the guilt again.

"Not yet." George scoffed.

"I just thought...well, I don't know really know." He shrugs. "It was just a thought."

"Well, stop bloody thinking about that and help me with this ageing potion instead."

Fred took a seat on the floor picking up one of the books, and as he pretending to read, he was unable to think about anything else.