The following weeks passed in a strange rhythm, a mixture of new norms and stubborn familiarity. On the surface, Fred and Addie's relationship seemed nonexistent outside their shared room. At meals, Fred sat with George, Lee, Angelina, and Alicia, laughing and carrying on as he always had. Meanwhile, Addie sat alone at the Slytherin table, her cold, sharp expression warding off anyone who might approach. She had become an island within her own house, shunned by her peers as though her marriage assignment had infected her.
But if the isolation bothered her, she didn't show it. Addie carried on her days as if nothing had changed, sneering at the same Gryffindors, gliding through the hallways with her usual detached elegance. She wore her coldness like armor.
Yet in the sanctuary of their shared quarters, she was entirely different. Here, Fred saw the real Addie Malfoy—the one who sat cross-legged on the floor for hours, painting intricate scenes that seemed to leap off the canvas once she enchanted them. Fred couldn't help but admire her work, especially a piece she had finished of the Hogwarts grounds at sunset. The colors moved across the canvas like rippling water, almost magical in their depth.
She even helped him one evening with a particularly troublesome prank product. Her suggestions, though delivered with plenty of sarcasm, were surprisingly clever. "You should have been in Ravenclaw," he had joked, earning a snort from her.
Their private moments grew more natural, but outside their room, the tension remained.
One Saturday afternoon, Fred gathered some books, ready to head to the library with his brother and their friends. Addie, perched on the sofa, glanced up from the textbook she was skimming.
"Where are you off to?" she asked, her voice light but her eyes betraying a flicker of something deeper.
"Library," Fred said casually. But he caught the subtle shift in her expression, the way her lips pressed together ever so slightly. Before he could second-guess himself, he added, "Do you want to come?"
She blinked, clearly surprised, then gave a small shrug. "Might as well," she said, setting her book aside. "I should get used to your ridiculous friends anyway."
Fred grinned, grabbing his bag as she gathered her books. They walked side by side to the library, an unusual pair but oddly at ease in each other's company.
At the library, Fred spotted George, Angelina, Lee, and Alicia huddled around a big table, laughing loudly about something. The group's chatter came to an abrupt halt the moment they noticed Addie.
"What the bloody hell is she doing here?" Angelina snapped, her tone laced with venom. Her eyes burned with barely concealed anger, and Fred winced, knowing this was more about their own unresolved tension than anything else.
Addie, to her credit, merely rolled her eyes and turned on her heel to leave. But Fred instinctively reached out, his fingers gently curling around her arm. "Addie," he said firmly, turning to his friends. "She's here because she wanted to get to know you all." His tone left no room for argument.
The group exchanged uneasy glances, but no one dared say anything further. Fred guided Addie into a chair next to him, determined to make this work.
The silence at the table was unbearable. Angelina kept glaring daggers at Addie, while the others avoided looking at her altogether. Fred attempted to start a conversation, but the tension hung too thick in the air.
Eventually, Addie exhaled sharply and stood, shoving her chair back. "I'll see you later, Fred," she said coolly. Without another glance at the table, she disappeared into the restricted section, her movements as smooth and silent as ever.
As soon as she was gone, Lee muttered, "Good riddance."
Fred's stomach twisted at the comment, though he said nothing. He stared at the door Addie had vanished through, feeling a strange pang of guilt and frustration. Why couldn't everyone just get along? He knew why. But it still felt felt like he was constantly being pulled between two worlds.
He shook his head, trying to focus on his books, but the image of Addie walking away, alone as always, lingered in his mind.
The first Hogsmeade weekend of the term arrived, bringing with it a buzz of excitement that seemed to infect the entire castle. Fred was no exception, grinning as he stuffed a few galleons into his pocket before grabbing his coat. His friends were all heading into the village together, eager for butterbeer, Honeydukes, and a few pranks on unsuspecting third-years.
As he shrugged on his coat, Fred turned to Addie, who was sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed and a quill poised over her parchment. "You coming?" he asked casually.
Addie barely glanced up. "No," she replied, shaking her head. "I need to finish my History of Magic essay."
Fred frowned. He knew she had finished that essay days ago—he'd watched her tuck it into her bag with a smug little smile of triumph. But he didn't push her, just nodded and gave her a half-smile. "Suit yourself."
Her quill scratched against the parchment, and Fred lingered a moment longer before heading out the door.
The walk into Hogsmeade was filled with laughter and teasing. Lee and George were arguing over which prank product would sell better—a self-tying shoelace or a dungbomb that exploded glitter—and Angelina was shaking her head at both of them, muttering something about priorities. Fred tried to join in, but his mind kept drifting back to Addie.
It made no sense. She was his fiancée, sure, but he didn't want to think about her. She'd been awful to him and his friends for years. And yet, he couldn't shake the image of her sitting alone in their quarters, her quill moving methodically across the parchment. She was so isolated now—by her house, by her family, by everything. He hated how her father had spoken to her in that Howler, hated the way she never seemed to flinch at the cruelty. It wasn't normal, and it wasn't fair.
They wandered into Honeydukes, and Fred found himself scanning the shelves for her favorite. He remembered her conjuring hot chocolate during one of their late-night talks and how she had admitted, almost shyly, that she loved chocolate. His hand paused over the display, grabbing a bar of her favorite variety before slipping it into his basket.
"Who's that for?" George asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No one," Fred said quickly, shoving the bar into his pocket.
His twin snorted but didn't press him.
As they left Honeydukes, something shiny in a shop window caught Fred's eye. It was a jeweler's, the display filled with necklaces, bracelets, and rings of all kinds. Without thinking, Fred broke away from the group, stepping into the shop.
Rows of sparkling gems and intricate designs greeted him, but one ring in particular drew his attention. It was simple yet elegant—a gold band with a light pink gemstone nestled in the center. Delicate golden swirls wrapped around the stone, giving it an air of whimsy and uniqueness. It reminded him of Addie—beautiful, strong, but with an understated softness hidden beneath.
He didn't know what possessed him, but before he could second-guess himself, Fred handed over the rest of his money and bought the ring.
As the jeweler slipped it into a small velvet pouch, Fred tucked it carefully into his pocket and rejoined his friends outside.
"Where'd you go?" Lee asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just looking around," Fred said with a shrug, falling into step beside George.
His friends didn't press him, returning to their chatter, but Fred barely heard them. His fingers brushed the velvet pouch in his pocket, and for the rest of the day, his thoughts lingered on Addie, wondering what she would think when he gave it to her.
Fred returned to their shared quarters after an exhausting but mostly enjoyable day in Hogsmeade, his friends' laughter still ringing in his ears. He closed the door behind him, expecting to find Addie curled up with one of her books or working on another of her stunning paintings. But the room was empty.
Frowning, he set his Honeydukes bag down on the table and glanced around. Her books were still on the desk, her cloak draped over the back of the chair, but there was no sign of her.
Hours passed, and Fred couldn't relax. He paced the room, trying to convince himself she was fine, that she was likely off brooding somewhere like she always did. But as midnight approached and she still wasn't back, worry twisted in his stomach. Something felt wrong.
Unable to sit still any longer, Fred grabbed his wand and stormed out of the room. His first thought was to check Snape's office—she had mentioned helping him before, though she'd been vague about the details. The idea of her being alone with that greasy git made his blood boil, but he needed to know she was safe.
He was halfway there when he spotted her coming down the corridor from the direction of Dumbledore's office. The sight of her stopped him in his tracks.
Her robes were disheveled, the sleeves torn, and though her skin showed no fresh wounds, there was evidence of recently healed gashes—faint, silvery lines that hadn't quite faded. Her hair was loose and messy, framing her pale face in a way that made her look both fierce and fragile.
"Addie," Fred breathed, relief flooding him as he closed the distance between them in three long strides. Without thinking, he pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face in her hair. "I was worried about you."
She stiffened in his arms, clearly startled, but after a brief moment, she shoved him off with a scoff. "Get off me, Weasley!" she said, but there was a slight teasing lilt to her voice that softened the words.
Fred frowned, stepping back but not entirely apologizing. "You scared me. Where have you been?"
Addie rolled her eyes, starting down the corridor toward their quarters. "Just helping Snape and Dumbledore with something," she said vaguely, dodging his question.
"Helping with what?" he pressed, falling into step beside her.
"It's none of your business," she replied sharply, though there was no real bite in her tone.
Fred huffed but didn't push further, though the tension in his chest didn't entirely ease. Whatever she'd been doing, it hadn't been easy—her torn robes and faint scars told him that much.
When they got back to their quarters, Addie immediately headed for the wardrobe, pulling out her nightclothes. They both turned their backs as they changed, an unspoken rule that had developed between them. Fred slipped into his pajama pants, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see Addie tie the sash of her long, old-fashioned nightgown. He smirked, the familiar teasing words on the tip of his tongue, but he held back.
Once they were both settled, she perched on the edge of the bed, her back straight as she looked at him. "So," she began, her voice light but curious, "how was Hogsmeade?"
Fred hesitated for a moment before crossing the room to grab the bar of chocolate he'd bought her. He held it out to her. "Here. Thought you might like this."
Addie blinked in surprise, her icy demeanor cracking just a little. "You… bought this for me?"
Fred shrugged, trying to play it off. "You mentioned you liked chocolate. Figured you could use some."
She took the bar, her fingers brushing his for a fleeting moment. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice lacking its usual edge.
Fred wasn't done, though. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the velvet pouch, holding it out to her. "And… this."
Addie tilted her head, her brows knitting in confusion as she opened the pouch. Her expression shifted as she pulled out the gold ring with its delicate pink gemstone.
"I know you don't have a choice in all this," Fred said quickly, scratching the back of his neck, "but… you should at least have a ring. I thought this one suited you."
Addie stared at the ring for a long moment before sliding it onto her finger. A small, genuine smile spread across her face, the first Fred had ever seen. It made her look softer, more human, and for a moment, he couldn't look away.
"Thank you," she murmured again, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, before he could respond, she leaned forward and pressed a quick, featherlight kiss to his cheek.
Fred froze, his brain short-circuiting as she pulled away and turned over in bed, her back to him.
"Goodnight, Weasley," she said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Fred touched his cheek, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he climbed into bed. "Goodnight, Malfoy," he replied, his voice warm with a newfound fondness.