For Fred.

The reception area of St. Mungo's was its usual mix of chaos and calm. Healers in pale green robes bustled around with armfuls of potion bottles, their wands flicking and whirling to levitate charts, while nervous patients sat on enchanted chairs that adjusted themselves to fit the sitter's comfort.

George stood near the desk, tapping his fingers rhythmically against its wooden edge. His other hand rested on his chin, and he looked deep in thought. I looked at him incredulously.

"Will you stop fidgeting? It's just a checkup."

"I know it's a checkup," George replied, though his tone betrayed his worry. "But it's not every day you've got another human kicking about in there, is it?"

I rolled my eyes, though I smiled at George's concern. "George, the baby isn't kicking. It's the size of a plum. Calm down."

Before George could retort, a cheerful Healer with auburn hair and a clipboard approached us. "Angelina Johnson? Follow me, please."

We both walked down a pristine white corridor, George keeping close by my side. We entered a cozy examination room lined with shelves of glowing potion vials and moving anatomical diagrams. The Healer gestured to a cushioned chair.

"Go ahead and sit, dear," she said warmly, waving her wand. "We'll do a quick scan and check on everything."

I settled into the chair, while George perched on a stool beside me, looking as though he might start pacing around the room.

"So, three months along," the Healer began, her wand hovering over my abdomen. A soft glow emanated from its tip as she murmured a spell. The air around them shimmered faintly before an image projected itself above my stomach—a small, glowing outline of a fetus.

George let out a low whistle. "Blimey. That's... that's incredible."

I stared at the image, hand drifting towards my stomach as if to feel the magic. My lips parted slightly, taking it all in.

"Everything looks perfectly normal," the Healer announced, jotting notes onto her clipboard. "The baby's growth is right on track, and you seem to be in excellent health, Angelina."

George leaned forward, squinting at the projection. "Are those... toes? Already?"

The Healer chuckled. "Yes, Mr. Weasley. Toes and fingers, too. And a healthy heartbeat." She flicked her wand again, and a soft rhythmic thumping filled the room.

George's eyes brightened, for the first time in a long time.

"That's... your baby. My nephew." He said, awestruck.

I reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "Yeah, George. I think I know that." I chuckled, looking at how mesmerized he was.

"Fred would've loved to see this." He continued, more quietly this time.

"He probably would've blown up the entire place with joy." I whispered in reply.

The Healer smiled as she finished her notes. "I'll prescribe you a mild tonic to help with any nausea and fatigue. You can pick it up at the apothecary downstairs. If you have any concerns, don't hesitate to send an owl."

"Thank you," I said warmly, standing with George's help.

"I'll be fine, you numpty." I teased. "No need to treat me like tomorrow's my due date."

As we left the room, George couldn't resist glancing back at the projection before it faded. "You know," he said as we made our way towards the front door, "if they've already got toes, it's only a matter of time before they're as good at pranking as their dad was."

I laughed, nudging him playfully. "Let's hope they get my common sense first."

***

1995, Fred and Angelina's Sixth Year
Quidditch Pitch, Nighttime

"Okay, Angelina, are you ready?" Katie whispered to me as we snuck out of our dorm room. Alicia wasn't far behind.

"Whisper any louder and Professor McGonagall will hear you, yeah?" I replied, giggling as Katie shoved me playfully. We slowly tiptoed down to the common room, where the fire that had been roaring a couple of hours ago was now nothing but a few embers. The dark silhouettes of Fred, George, and Lee stood next to the portrait hole, waiting.

When we finally caught up to them, giggling and whispering, Fred grinned and pushed the painting aside. We all followed him out, careful not to make any noise. The corridors of Hogwarts were silent at night, but not completely unmonitored.

"We're so gonna get caught," Alicia groaned. "McGonagall will kill us."

"You're free to stay behind, then," Lee remarked cheekily. Alicia shoved him, but even in the dark, I could see her face turn pink.

"Oi, you two. Get a room." Fred and George hissed in unison, leading the group.

"You're one to talk, Fred." Lee said, scoffing as he dusted off some lint stuck to his coat. "You and Angelina have been snogging every chance you get." My face immediately grew hot, and Fred simply snickered. George was quiet.

"Shut up, Lee." I mumbled, while Alicia and Katie chuckled stupidly. He threw his hands up in mock surrender.

We were at the bottom floor now, having successfully evaded any professors or prefects that might catch us. As the other four ran outside towards the field, Fred lagged behind until we were walking side by side. He slowly wrapped a hand around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

"Hey, Angie." He said, a mischievous glint already in his eyes.

"What do you want?" I replied, rolling my eyes. But I didn't mean it, of course. I loved it. I loved him.

"Oh, my dear Angelina!" He clutched his chest with his free hand while I giggled. "Why so cold?"

"Shut up, you numpty." I said, in between giggles.

"Your wish is my command." He replied softly, and kissed me on the forehead.

By the time we'd made it to the field, Alicia, Lee, Katie and George had already made the fire. Lee and Alicia were talking animatedly, and so were George and Katie. Though it seemed Katie ran most of the conversation, while George nodded.

I don't know if I imagined it, but his eyes flickered to Fred's hand on my waist.

We joined the others at the fire, the warmth chasing away the chill of the night air. Lee was already halfway through some outrageous story, gesturing wildly with a stick in his hand, sparks flying up from the flames as Alicia groaned in disbelief. Katie had started poking fun at George for his poor conversation skills, and for once, he looked almost sheepish.

Fred tugged me down beside him, settling on the grass with his arm draped casually across my shoulders. The firelight danced in his eyes, his usual grin softening as he looked at me. It was moments like this that always caught me off guard—when he wasn't cracking jokes or causing mischief, just being.

"Oi, you two," Alicia called out, her voice teasing, "stop making us all sick with your googly eyes."

"Oh shut up, Alicia." I giggled. Lee Jordan flicked his wand, and a crate of butter beer and fire whisky appeared next to him.

"Beverages for the night." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Where the hell did you get them?" I said warily.

"Relax, Angie. Snuck it in from Hogsmeade." Lee said lazily, passing a bottle to Alicia and Katie. "Plus, we're legal age now, aren't we?"

I sighed. He was right. I saw George and Fred getting some, and I realized I would probably be the only sober one in a matter of an hour.

I was right.

"Angie, you look sooo pretty. Oi, Lee, isn't she pretty?" Fred slurred. Lee was busy snogging a very giggly Alicia, while George and Katie tried to sing a Quidditch team anthem, hiccuping every second.

I rolled my eyes and threw a twig in their direction, but Fred leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear.

"Let's sneak off," he whispered shakily, his voice low and playful. I could smell the butter beer on him.

"What?" I whispered back, glancing at the others.

"They won't even notice," he promised, already tugging me to my feet. "Plus, I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Alright, let's go. I'm not cleaning vomit off my clothes."

As we slipped away from the group, the sounds of laughter and crackling fire faded behind us. Fred led me toward the stands, where the stars overhead seemed brighter, almost close enough to touch. We slipped behind one, and Fred started hiccuping, giggling even more to himself.

"Oh you are completely gone, aren't you?" I teased, rubbing his back as he dry heaved. Suddenly, he stopped. "I don't think I'm gonna throw up any more, Angie." He said, pulling me into a hug and laughing softly. He kissed my forehead and cheeks, his own pink. I smoothed down his messy hair. "You really need to get that hair of yours under control, Fred."

"There's my Angie, always...always looking out for me." He said drowsily, giving me a crooked smile.

"Fred, I think we need to get you to bed, hm?" I said softly, caressing his cheek. His head tilted into my palm, and his eyes closed.

"I love you, Angie." Fred said sleepily, hiccuping. My eyes widened, and my heart beat faster than before. "I'd hate to...I'd hate to lose you." He opened his eyes again. "Holy shit, I just said I love you. Isn't that funny?" He giggled again, his beautiful brown eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

"Fred..." I started. Fred suddenly straightened up and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"I LOVE ANGELINA JOHNSON!" He yelled, and I knew right then and there that if we didn't leave the pitch now, we'd cost Gryffindor so many house points that it'd be in the negatives.

"Fred!" I hissed, already starting to pull him away. I could see Lee and the others packing up frantically, but Fred didn't budge.

"I'll only leave if you say it back." He slurred again.

"Fred, let's go."

"Say it."

"Fred!"

"I know you really really want to, Angie." I rolled my eyes, trying to hide a smile.

"Alright then, you numpty. I love you too. Now can we go?!"

"Okay." He nodded slowly.

"Thank you." I turned to leave, but he pulled me back again.

"Fred, what're you-"

Fred didn't let me finish before his lips brushed against mine. It wasn't the smooth, confident kiss I imagined he'd planned—it was a little clumsy and tasted faintly of butterbeer—but it was still Fred. His hand cupped the back of my neck, anchoring me to him as if the world would fall apart if he let go.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched mine, a mix of giddiness and uncertainty flickering across his face. "Was that okay?" he asked softly, his voice losing its usual teasing edge.

I blinked, momentarily stunned, before a grin broke across my face. "You're an idiot. We kiss all the time, of course it's more than okay."

"But I'm a lovable idiot, right?" His lopsided smirk was back, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"The most lovable idiot," I said, nudging him playfully. "Now come on before someone hears us and we both get detention for a week."

Fred didn't protest this time as I tugged him toward the castle, (and the rest were nowhere to be found), though he still stumbled over his own feet, mumbling nonsense about how he could get used to sneaking off with me.

"You love me," he teased, his voice sing-songy.

I rolled my eyes. "You're lucky you're cute, Fred. Otherwise, I'd have left you on the pitch to deal with Filch and his bloody cat."

"You'd never leave me," he said confidently, nudging me with his shoulder. "You love me too much."

"Keep pushing your luck, and I'll prove you wrong."

Fred stumbled a bit, and I caught his arm just in time, steadying him. He looked down at me, his lopsided grin softening for a moment.

"You really do look pretty tonight," he said, quieter now, his brown eyes warm in the moonlight.

I felt my cheeks heat up, but I tried to brush it off with a laugh. "Merlin, you're a sappy drunk."

"Not drunk," he said, hiccuping. "Just... full of feelings. And a little butterbeer. And maybe some firewhisky."

I laughed despite myself, tugging him along as we slipped through the castle doors. "Alright, you sentimental fool, let's get you to bed before Filch catches us, yeah?"

As we crept through the dimly lit corridors, Fred started humming under his breath—something that sounded suspiciously like the Gryffindor team anthem. I shot him a warning look, but he just smirked at me.

"You're no fun, Angie."

"I'm plenty fun," I whispered back. "But unlike you, I know how to stay out of detention."

Fred gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "You wound me."

"Oh, hush. I always wound you."

We reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who gave us a suspicious look as I recited the password. Fred was swaying on his feet by then, and I had to pull him inside before he toppled over.

In the common room, the fire embers were still crackling faintly in the hearth. It was quiet now, the chaos of the bonfire outside feeling like a distant memory. I steered Fred toward the boys' dormitory stairs, but he stopped short, turning to face me.

"Angie," he said, his voice unusually soft.

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I meant it," he said, his gaze suddenly steady despite his swaying. "What I said out there. I love you."

My chest tightened. He looked so earnest, so different from his usual mischievous self, that I didn't know what to say for a moment.

"I know," I finally said, my voice just as soft. "And I love you too. Even when you're a complete knucklehead."

He grinned, the teasing sparkle returning to his eyes. "You love me because I'm a complete knucklehead."

"Go to bed, Fred, you keep repeating the same things." I said, rolling my eyes but smiling anyway.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead, his touch lingering just long enough to send my heart racing. "Goodnight, Angie."

"Goodnight, Fred," I whispered as he disappeared up the stairs.

I stood there for a moment, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on my skin. Shaking my head, I turned and headed to my own dorm, a smile tugging at my lips the entire way.