Between the Cracks

The more minutes passed, the more Leigh started to agree with Nova's request. She couldn't see herself getting any knowledge into her brain in her current state. 

Still standing aimlessly alone in the common room, she brought her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. Sitting alone in the library trying to study, or staying up here in the dorms and common room both seemed like horrible ideas.

Standing around wouldn't do her any good, and attempting to sleep...– she shivered at the thought. Instead she started walking, leaving her notebook on a table in the common room and exiting through the painting.

She walked down the stairs, many of them, and started going off towards an exit. Any exit would do. She was craving some cold air and the snow crystals flowing outside seemed to hold exactly what she wanted.

The freezing cold air stung at her cheeks as she trudged her way across the grounds, no real destination in mind. The morning was still early, and she wandered over to the black lake first, gazing out at the still water, some of it frozen. She considered going over to Hagrid's, or go stay in the green houses for some peace, but the first idea most probably involved active listening, and the latter other students, none of which Leigh was particularly into in that moment.

She opted for continuing to walk, her legs carrying her in the direction of Hogsmeade after a few detours across the grounds. There really was nowhere else to go.

It was already December after all, and lights welcomed her as she neared the familiar streets. Green and red lights lined the roofs on the sides of the cobblestones, and Christmas trees were neatly placed every now and then on the path, also packed with lights and ornaments. Apart from that, each shop seemed to have their decorations up, some static while others had whole scenes and landscapes set up in the shop windows.

Many of the shops had new decorations every year, and so it was always a surprise going past them. Leigh couldn't help it when the corner of her lip tipped up slightly at the view. 

She carefully made her way down the street, peeking into the windows, yet not making her way into any of the shops. Not even the bookshop, whose window was filled with flying books with bells and ribbons, was of interest. 

The apothecary, J. Pippin's Potions, had a strange window containing numerous Santa Clauses drinking various different liquids, while Spintwitches Sporting Needs had a neatly arranged display of their newest brooms and equipment, undoubtedly hoping customers would splurge with their Christmas gifts. Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop had a miniature sized Hogwarts in their window, inhabited by the owner's pet rat, who diligently made its way around the miniature castle to stack small books and organise quills.

Honeydukes had opted for a complicated and detailed window attempting to show off their variety of products. Cones with sweets were arranged in patterns while what looked like fudges hovered in a small sleigh whirling around the window. Chocolate Cauldrons, containing firewhisky, were surrounded by miniature fireworks while Glacial Snowflakes fell like real snow down the length of the window. Perhaps the cauldrons were targeting new years rather than Christmas.

She wondered what Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes looked like. She remember her walk with Fred, where he enthused about the various Christmas decorations in Hogsmeade. She could practically see the excitement on his face as he spoke of their ideas for the shop. 

She approached the twins' shop out of curiosity, only to see no decorations were put up at all. 

She didn't even consider entering the twins' shop. She felt too...dissheveled? Dysfunctional? Out of her mind? 

She normally wasn't matching their joyful demeanours, but today, even more sleep deprived than normal, with her memories hanging like a veil around her, it felt even more different. 

Attempting to see if there was any decorations at all, she approached the window to glance inside. No sign of Christmas anywhere to be seen, strangely enough.

Her eye caught movement, and she soon spotted two customers standing by the till, one of the twins, Fred, standing in front of them on the other side of the counter. He helped them with their purchase, having that signature joyful, effortless smile on his lips, making it look so easy to be happy. He dealt the change, chatting and laughing with the customers before pushing the items towards them at the end of the exchange.

Her mind drifted to the last time they met, two days ago when she dropped off the jacket. Before she knew it her mind reminded her of the time before that, when they spent their time on the grounds and outside the great hall, the dark winter night surrounding them. 

The customers exited the shop through the door beside her, and she suddenly felt Fred's eyes land on her.

She cursed to herself as she returned his gaze, feeling stupid for trying to inconspicuously take a peek. She didn't have any intention of going in, she just wanted to...take a look.

Fred raised a hand to give her a wave, and she sheepishly returned it, the long sleeves of her sweater shielding her hands from the cold air. She sucked in a breath. She had to go in now. How weird wouldn't it be if she just turned on her heel and walked away? Shit. 

She attempted to subtly straighten up her shoulders before trudging towards the door, suddenly realizing how cold she was when the warm air of the shop hit her. She only wore her sweater after all.

"Hey," she spoke as she stood a distance from the till.

"Hey you." A cheeky smile made its way upon Fred's lips. "Don't you have classes?"

"Gap hour," she quickly lied. There really was no need for him to know about everything. If she said one thing then the others would follow. "Just on a walk," she followed up with a small smile. "Hogsmeade looks nice." She turned slightly towards the street, the Christmas lights, albeit not lit up due to the morning hours, seen through the windows. 

"It does, doesn't it? We're a bit late with our decorations." The shop was still stuck in autumn; no lights or Santas anywhere to be seen. 

Fred took a few steps closer, rounding the till and leaning back on it, glancing at her red cheeks. "Cold outside?"

Leigh rubbed her sleeve-covered hands together, nodding as her teeth chattered slightly. Fred looked at her, his expression almost amused, and nodded towards the stairs up to the flat. "Let me get you a blanket to warm you up a bit."

She bit her lip as she considered his words. She really hadnt planned to be in here, let alone stay here for longer than a simple greeting, but she also couldn't come up with an excuse quick enough, and in all honesty she wouldn't mind just a quick chat. She liked his company.

She gnawed on her lip again, feeling the taste of blood from before. Finally she shrugged. "Okay."

They wandered up the stairs, Fred quickly draping a blanket over her slightly shaking form once they reached the top, a few seconds later piling yet another blanket onto her body. His gaze stuck on her as of in thought, running over her red face and hands, which she rubbed together underneath the fabric of her sleeves. 

"I'm making you some tea too," he said finally in a convinced tone, like she had no comment at all on the matter. He moved towards the kitchen area. 

Leigh could do nothing but sink into the blankets, delivering a hesitant smile and laughing out an "Okay." 

She looked out the window, raising her hand to her lips again and absentmindedly started to bite on her nail. 

"So what's it like up in the big stone?" Fred asked, and Leigh tore her gaze from the flurry of white outside. It had already started to snow more. Instead, her gaze landed on his back, turned to her from the kitchen. 

"The big stone?"

"Yeah, it is pretty stone-y don't you think?"

She couldn't help but grin faintly at his stupidity. "I suppose it is," she spoke with a shake of her head before she proceeded to answer his question. "It's as usual. Cold."

He nodded, back still turned to her as he reached up to open a cupboard. She could see the movements of his muscles through his white dress shirt. 

"Oh, the winters up in the tower are horrendous. No clue why they decided to have the gryffindors there when the hufflepuffs are all warm by the kitchen."

"I just have to date a hufflepuff then I guess," Leigh shrugged, and Fred glanced back at her, giving her a crooked smile.

"I guess so."

She really couldn't see herself doing anything like that at the moment. Besides, she was now amongst the oldest students in the school, and no one in her year seemed even close to interesting.

"So what have you been up to?" Fred asked.

She thought back, again coming face to face with the fact that she had met him only 2 days prior. "The last two days since we last saw each other? Not much."

He turned around after hearing her words, giving her a slight self assured grin, catching her blush faintly. Their last meeting ran through their minds. And the one before that. 

Fred got two cups out of the cupboard, placed them on the counter and glanced over at her in the couch, trying to figure out what else to say. 

"How was the test you've been studying so much for? Smashed it as expected?" Seeing as she had studied for it the last few times she had been here, it seemed like a suitable question. 

Normally she would reflect upon the fact that he remembered, but instead Leigh's face fell, although not visible to Fred who had his back turned to her. 

For the last few minutes since she entered the shop she had allowed herself to take her mind off it, both the test and the nightmares and everything else, but at the mere mention of the exam it all started to creep in. Without noticing it she pulled the blankets tighter around her. The turmoil started gnawing on her insides. 

She almost felt some version of shame bubble up inside her. Everyone knew her as something she seemingly wasn't, as the exam blatantly proved. She wasn't as smart and intelligent as people seemed to think, and that realisation hit harder than she expected. In the pit of her chest something screamed at her: What's the point if she can't even do that? People died and they won't even have the opportunity to do any of this, and there she is just throwing it away. The one thing she's supposed to be good at. The one thing she's supposed to be...worthy for. Again, she wasn't sure what she was without it.

"I'd rather not talk about it," she said quietly, hoping Fred would just drop it. He, if anyone, had been so vocal about her academic success, even if he didn't really know anything, and now she felt like a fraud under his gaze. 

Her head fell forward slightly, her hair hanging like a curtain to cover her face. Still, she managed to force out a polite smile as he turned around to meet her gaze. 

Fred leaned back against the counter as he waited for the kettle to boil, pursing his lips slightly. He dropped the topic, but his eyes lingered on her longer than expected. She felt the tension, the questions he held in his gaze, although he was polite enough not to say them. 

Her head felt like mush due to the lack of sleep, and she was sure the bags under her eyes showed the same tale. She sighed to herself, trying to shove her insecurities and chaos down for now, leaning back into the couch and pulling the blankets tighter around her.

The kettle was done, and Fred turned around to get the cups ready, soon providing her with a steaming drink on the table in front of her before he sat down by her side.

"Thanks," she mumbled quietly, giving him a tired smile. "Where's George?" She noticed the flat seemed emptier than usual.

Fred made himself comfier on the couch. "Went home to help mum with some things. Some final fixes on The Burrow before Christmas. He'll be back later."

Leigh could almost see the excitement igniting in his eyes at the mention of Christmas.

"When are you putting up the Christmas decorations here?" she asked, wanting to keep the spark in his irises aflame. She herself didn't have any plans for Christmas, and it only seemed right that he should exhibit excitement enough for the both of them.

A smile fought its way onto the corner of his lips. "As soon as possible. Just been a busy last...two days since you were here last." He mentioned it teasingly, just like she had done a minute or so before, and she rolled her eyes in response. Still, she felt her face flush slightly.

"So are you and George going home over Christmas?"

"Some days, yeah," he reached up to scratch the side of his neck. "Still some work to be done but hopefully some days are enough to conjure up some Christmas spirit."

She nodded absentmindedly. Leigh could see it in front of her: the twins loving every minute of Christmas; the music, the decorations, the act of finding the silliest most suitable gift for each and every one of the family members. Wearing Christmas sweaters. A grin rose on her lips at the thought. 

She could envision it– hell, she had probably seen it before around Christmas. She knew Molly Weasley made them all sweaters. Leigh had noticed both Ron's and Harry's, she just hadn't given Fred and George the same amount of attention all those years in the castle. Now, years later, she almost regretted it. For some reason she would love to see Fred in a Christmas sweater. The sillier the better. Would it look small on him? Or is Molly always accurate with the sizes?

Fred's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "What are you thinking about?" He gave her a funny look, taking a sip from his cup before holding it in a firm grasp in front of him, a faint and curious grin on his lips.

"Just...Christmas," she replied smugly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Mhm?"

"Do you like Christmas?"

He looked at her puzzled, but went along with it. "Who doesn't. Giving gifts, family, good food–"

"–Christmas sweaters," Leigh added swiftly, the grin threatening to break out on her face as she watched Fred narrow his eyes at her. 

"Where are you going with this?"

"Nothing just...you excited for your yearly sweater? You do still get them, don't you?"

He pressed his lips together, perhaps embarrassed to admit it. "I do."

Leigh felt a giggle rise in her throat, but pushed it down. She couldn't envision Fred with a massive Christmas sweater. Seeing him grumpily put it on after he gets told to do so by his mother. Leigh could envision 15 year old Fred doing so, perhaps even the 16 year old version, sure, but this Fred? She took a moment to run her eyes across his form – his wide shoulders and muscular arms. Envisioned him grumpily shoving on a colourful Christmas jumper. It would be hilarious.

He narrowed his eyes at her once more. "What's so funny about me wearing a jumper?" he asked, but the ghost of a smile danced in the corner of his lips. 

She shook her head, albeit letting her gaze travel down from his face, across his neck to his chest, his abdomen, seeing the way the white shirt hugged and caressed his body, before landing on his belt. She admitted it was a nice view. But the amusing sight of a tight Christmas jumper on him wouldn't leave her mind.

He scanned her face, shaking his head slightly. "You're a weirdo, you know that?" His tone seeped in playfulness as he stood up from the couch, putting his cup on the table before walking towards his bedroom, a moment later peeking out around the door to give her a pointed look, which she couldnt help but smile at.

He was gone for a few moments, and Leigh took a gulp of her tea, hoping she hadn't stared at him too obviously. She almost had enough time to start to feel embarrassed when he suddenly came back into the room, this time holding a bright red knitted sweater in his hand.

He stood in front of her, holding the sweater up at the height of his chest. "Do you mean this?" he asked, and her face said everything, the corners of her lips pulling up into a grin.

It wasn't as embarrassing than she expected, just a red sweater with a large F on the front, and what looked like some added figure of a reindeer. Perhaps Molly had started to make tweaks to the designs as the years passed. Leigh could imagine it was a bit boring making the same sweater over and over again. Size-wise it did look big enough to fit him. It was massive, yes, but so was he. She leaned forward and reached her hand out, letting her fingers run over the smooth and cosy surface.

The corners of her lips tipped up at the view, imagining him in it, a stark contrast to his usually painfully professional outfits. She was enjoying this way too much. He narrowed his eyes playfully at her once more.

"You should wear that more often" she finally teased. "Suits you."

He studied her face, tilting his head to the side and giving her a look while his lips formed into a mischievous grin. "You know, I don't appreciate this whole 'giggling at me over my Christmas gifts' kind of thing you've got going on," he spoke. He took a step closer, grin widening. "And frankly..," he stopped closely in front of her, making her gulp as she looked up at his tall form. Oh no. "...I could say the same thing about you."

A moment later Fred shoved the sweater over her head, laughing as he did so, and Leigh couldn't help but laugh along, weakly fighting back before accepting her fate. Despite her limited protests she couldnt get away from her own giggles as Fred reached through the big sleeves of the sweater to grasp her wrists, pulling them through one at a time. Once Leigh was fully engulfed in the big piece of clothing Fred stepped back to observe his work. He nodded to himself.

"Nothing to say now, do you?" He said childishly, smirk growing on his lips as he was soaking up his victory. She merely raised her arms at her sides in response, the long sleeves falling several inches where the tip of her hand stopped. 

"You're a pain," she spoke, trying to look like she was not amused in the slightest.

He simply grinned. "You already know this by now," he replied smartly, "and yet you come back." His gaze softened slightly, and he moved closer, leaning over her to let his hand tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before moving it towards her neck, where he gently pulled her hair from underneath the fabric of the sweater. His fingers softly grazed the sensitive skin of her neck in the process, and her breath seemed to hitch in her throat. He pushed her hair over her shoulder, letting it fall into place there.

"You warm yet?" He asked after a second. Leigh was grateful he spoke first – she had no clue what to say.

"Mhm," she mumbled, mind still stuck on the feeling of his skin. She fell deeper into the knitted fabric. It was more comforting than she expected. The fabric tickled her nose slightly as she leant her head forward.

Fred chuckled, looked at her for a moment longer before he straightened up and reached for his cup. He tilted his head back and drank the rest of his tea. 

Leigh reached for her own cup, but was immediately hindered by the long sleeves of Fred's sweater. She huffed, trying to rise her arms into the air and shake them around to make the sleeves fall down and bunch around her wrists. Unsuccessfully.

"Okay, maybe it's a bit big for you," Fred said as he sat down beside her and reached for one of her hands, starting to roll the sleeve up until it laid thickly around her wrists. He reached for the other one.

"Maybe a bit," Leigh hummed in agreement. She didn't mind – being swallowed up in the big sweater was cosy. "Thanks," she exhaled, reaching for her cup with her now free hand while Fred fixed the sleeve of the other, rolling it up inch by inch. 

The cup was still warm, and while the tea in it wasn't exactly hot anymore, it was still warm enough to drink.

She felt Fred stop fiddling with her sleeve, expecting him to get up, but he remained seated beside her. His voice tore through the silence of the flat.

"Leigh, what is this?"