If Only We Could Use Magic
Leigh remained downstairs, putting up the last of the decorations, while Fred had returned upstairs after cladding the branches with a variety of ornaments. Most of the interior decorations were now up. Some big ones were yet to be placed out, as well as the outside decorations, but all in all Fred was happy with their work so far, and now, standing at the top of the stairs looking out over the shop, he felt his chest swell with a cosy warmth. He couldn't help it – he had always considered Christmas to be a cosy time. Leigh being in the midst of the shop, surrounded by ornaments, velvet bows and shiny hanging globes, only added to it.
She seemed as if in her own little world as she stood downstairs in the middle of the shop floor, humming a tune, perhaps a muggle Christmas tune, as she looked down into a box, hair falling down in front of her face before she guided it back behind her ear with the swift movement of a hand.
Her cheeks were rosy. Maybe because she was warm but was trying to fight it, not wanting to discard Fred's sweater just yet.
She had agreed to stay over. The answer immediately filled Fred with some form of relief, much to his own surprise.
Still out of sight, Fred grinned to himself as he slipped his hand into his pocket, his fingers meeting the solid surface of his wand. He fished it out before grasping it in his hand, pointing it in Leigh's direction, mumbling a spell under his breath. Slowly, white crystals started to make their way down from the ceiling, whirling through the air in gracious patterns before meeting their fate upon the floor of the shop. Or in some cases, upon Leigh's form; her hair which laid carelessly over her shoulders, the massive sweater cladding her upper body, her hands, exposed only when the sleeves weren't hanging down covering them.
Fred watched as Leigh started taking note of the falling snow, her eyes widening in surprise as she looked up towards the ceiling. One by one they singled down around her, some landing softly in her hair, others landing upon her outstretched palm. She observed it for a second, saw it melting on her skin, before directing her gaze towards the ceiling again, eyes wide with adoration and hair full of gleaming snowflakes.
Fred couldn't help but lean against the doorframe at the top of the stairs, a small soft smile unknowingly making its way onto his face. If someone took a shot of her like this and put it up on a wall, Fred would undoubtedly be convinced it was a piece of art.
Something pulled inside his chest at the view. Maybe it was the innocent wonder on her face as she let her gaze trace the falling crystals, such a sharp juxtaposition to the dark and heavy expression it bore only hours before.
"Fred!"
The sound of her voice caught his attention, and he realised she was as now looking up at him, shoulders slumped and a smile grazing her lips.
Grinning, still leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, he shrugged innocently. "What?"
"You know exactly what," she spoke, crossing her own arms.
"Me? I really don't," he mused. He felt like annoying her, and tilted his wrist holding the wand slightly, watching as the snowfall grew heavier, big clumps of snow sinking down into her hair and melting against the exposed skin of her hands and face.
"Fred," Leigh warned, attempting to churn out a grumpy expression, only fuelling Fred's growing smirk. She took a step to the side, groaning under her breath as she realised the weather seemed to follow her.
"Huh? What did you say? I can't hear you over this massive snowstorm ravaging through the shop for some reason." He pointed a finger towards his ear, shrugging again as he took a few steps down the stairs.
The falling snow picked up speed, falling flat down onto her. "You're an ass," she muttered. A thin layer of snow had now laid itself upon the floor at her feet, and she guessed the same amount was also located neatly upon her head.
Fred cupped his hand behind his ear. "I'm a what?" He taunted, and Leigh reached down to the ground to scoop up some snow into her palms, an idea forming in her head. She drew her arm back, and the next second a snowball hit Fred straight in the chest, his smug expression replaced with a surprised one.
"Oh, you'll so regret that," he snickered before raising his wand again, flicking it once, making a snowball start to form upon the snowy floor, rolling in circles as it grew before starting to hover in the air. With another flick of his wand the snowball came crashing towards her, hitting her straight in the shoulder.
"Prick!"
"Karma."
She didn't waste another minute before bunching another chunk of snow in her hands before throwing it towards Fred, who dodged it but let out a faint giggle.
"This is unfair! I already have this damn...snowstorm! And I don't have my wand!" She had stupidly left it upstairs in the flat.
"Sounds like a you problem."
She rolled her eyes, but soon realised he was right. It was a her problem, at least for now.
But that could change.
A smugness took over her features as she started moving towards Fred, scooping a hand through the snow surrounding her, not bothering to roll the snow into a ball.
Fred raised an eyebrow but started to back away, taking steps backwards between the shelves of the shop. "You look possessed."
"Geez thanks, Fred," Leigh mumbled before leaping towards him, aiming to get close enough to get him included in her...weather situation, but he slipped out of the way. He continued backing down deeper into the shop, careful not to trip on any of the few leftovers branches strewn across the floor.
She shot towards him again, moving down between the shelves, prompting him to nearly knock into a display case before Leigh finally caught up with him, grasping his arm and reaching up with her snow-filled palm. He almost dodged her attack, but was soon struck with the snow upon the area of his neck and collarbone, and immediately shivered at the cold.
"Merlin," Fred laughed as he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the melting snow seep down his collar and through his shirt. He peeked down at her after a second, seeing a proud expression on her face, framed by wet strands of hair. The view only made him laugh even more. "You're absolutely drenched."
"And whose fault is that?" She asked sassily, still holding his arm in her grasp to make sure he couldn't avoid the snowfall above them. She watched him squirm slightly due to the cold for another moment before he seemed to give up, shoulders relaxing.
"My fault," he admitted with a crooked smile, gaze meeting hers again.
She nodded. "Yep," popping the p as she said the word.
He simply smiled, and the snow above them slowly started to lose its' intensity; the falling crystals growing smaller and smaller until only a mere few were whirling around them. Instead their faces were illuminated by something likening sun rays for a few seconds before Fred flicked his wand and it all vanished.
Leigh finally let go of his arm and became conscious of how absolutely drenched she actually was. Accentuating her point, she raised both her arms by her sides, Fred's sweater hanging off her body like a wet rag.
"Thank you for this," she said sarcastically, much to Fred's amusement.
"Oh no," he said ironically, "If only we could use magic." He gave her a dramatic look before uttering a drying spell and pointing his wand in her direction. Within seconds both her and the sweater were dry.
"Thanks," she mumbled, watching Fred turn his wand to himself before drying himself off as well.
"As good as new."
-
Even though Leigh had argued that she had more decorations left, Fred had finally succeeded in metaphorically dragging her away from the shop floor and into the flat upstairs, incentivising her with the offer of a nice warm cup of hot chocolate. He knew she liked his hot chocolate.
"Do you want marshmellows?"
Her eyes widened. "You have marshmellows?"
The corner of his mouth tipped up in a grin. "I do."
"Then yes please."
He chuckled quietly, perhaps not even heard by her. "How very grown up of you."
"How very grown up of you to have marshmallows easy at hand."
He turned on his heel, now facing her with his back to the counter. His head tilted forward in a nod. "Touché." He walked over with her cup, "But then again when have I ever given you the impression that I'm very grown up?"
She thought about his words for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. "True."
Once she received the cup in her hands she immediately moved her palms up around it, enjoying the warmth the liquid provided.
Fred made his way back to the kitchen area, where he picked up his own cup, leaning against the counter behind him. His gaze skimmed over the surface of the hot drink before it travelled over to Leigh, seeing her sit cross-legged in the couch with her warm cup held closely to her chest.
He swore she looked less tired now. Her eyes still red and bloodshot, fingers fiddling slightly, but her expression showed signs of calm and comfort, with remnants of excitement from earlier – unless he just imagined it.
He had been introduced to slivers of playfulness from her before, already months ago, and it hurt to witness moments where she was so numbed off, turning into herself.
He didn't know half of what she felt – how could he? The best he could do was try to understand, and occasionally attempt to make her peek out of that iron clad shell of hers. Attempting to lure her out every now and then, even though he could see her fall back in occasionally – her dazed gaze staring into nothingness as thoughts raked through her mind. Thoughts unknown to anyone but her.
There was a lot bubbling beneath that facade of hers, that much was clear. Still, he had seen gleams of her joy shining through, small glimmers of authentic emotion in her eyes, resting in the corner of her lips. Even earlier today he was sure they were somewhere in there, just out of sight, being made visible first when something shocking or surprising happened – when he teased her or annoyed her – something which ripped her from her infinite thoughts and made her roll her eyes at him, or huff in annoyance.
Fred knew there was so much more of Leigh Conway he wanted to see, remembering their time at the quidditch pitch, or the moment downstairs in the snow only a mere few minutes before. The excitement and adrenaline gleaming in her eyes – he was dying to see more of that. For some reason the thought of it pulled wildly in his chest. To see that small tinge of a smile hiding away in the corner of her lips, waiting to be explored.
The sound of the door opening downstairs, along with the accompanying ringing of the bell, snapped Fred out of his thoughts, and he put his cup down on the kitchen counter.
He gave Leigh a quick apology before making his way down the stairs, leaving her and her hot chocolate alone in the flat for a few moments before Fred again entered, now followed by George.
George didn't waste another second before grabbing a bag of crisps from a cabinet and sinking into the couch dramatically, groaning with exhaustion.
Fred rolled his eyes at his brother's dramatics, giving Leigh a look before disappearing into his room.
"Hey Leigh," George spoke, throwing a crisp into his mouth before fishing up a document from his bag and letting his eyes run over it.
"Hi," she replied sheepishly, fiddling with the cup in her hands. Her gaze bounced over to Fred's door before returning to the cup in her hands. "So...he told you everything?"
George shrugged, glanced at her briefly. "Pretty much." He popped another crisp in his mouth. "Not the details but...yeah."
She nodded, gnawing on her lip, watching as he raised a hand to point at his temple. "Telepathic."
She attempted to smile, nodded faintly. "Yeah."
"Look, Leigh," George started, turning a page in his documents and looking up at her slightly. "I don't know what Fred's told you but whatever you do, do not let him cook."
Leigh couldn't resist the giggle that climbed in her throat. Of course he would find a way to immediately ease the tension. Never doubt a Weasley twin's ability to make you laugh.
Seemingly pleased with her reaction, George's nose was soon back in his documents and he slipped further into the couch. He probably had a long day.
Leigh slouched down a bit on the couch, taking a sip from her cup. "Are you sure it's fine if I stay here tonight? I mean it's your home too and I can go back to the castle, it's fine."
He gave her a soft smile. "It's more than fine. Fred's in a better mood when you're here anyway."
She shook her head to herself, not really believing in the statement in the first place. "Maybe not this time around," she mumbled, gazing down at her left hand, where a small, almost invisible scar stretched out. Normally scars weren't left after healing spells, but she guessed that maybe one was this time because she had left it off for so long – the wound had started to heal by itself before the spell was cast.
George glanced at her, seeing her in her own world, gaze subtly trained on her palm.
The documents in his hands were lowered onto his lap. "That stuff doesn't work in the long run you know." He spoke, giving her a look.
Leigh's gaze immediately shot up to his, eyes wide. He looked back at her with that comfortable calmness only he could perfect, just like he had done that day in the storage space in the shop when he found her unconscious. He extended his arm and gave her a pat on the shoulder before standing up and walking over to the desk, documents in hand.