Snitches get Stitches

The thing was… Fred might have been a bit stupid.

Just a bit.

It seemed like a big romantic gesture, leaving school and stalking Hermione’s parents, finding Harry’s address, and trying to surprise him on his least favorite day of the year.

What Fred sort of forgot about, was Harry’s complete sense of loyalty. Harry was a reckless Gryffindor with the wit of a Ravenclaw, loyalty of a Hufflepuff, and the cunningness of a Slytherin. It was charming and cute as a niffler when it had been with Fred…

“You doing charity work now, Potter? Walking around with a Weasley?”

“If I was doing charity work, I’d be walking around with your mum, Malfoy. Tell her I said hello.”

… but it was something of a pain when it was with the girlfriend that apparently wasn’t a lie.

Fred had been asleep when Harry left for his muggle school, Lupin let Fred have one of the guest rooms to stay in, but Fred made sure he was awake before Harry returned.

What Fred needed, was a plan.

Fred spent all day trying to think of a plan. Fred wasn’t trying to hurt Harry, Fred realized that he had went about it the wrong way, he just wasn’t sure what the right way was… mostly because he wasn’t sure who Harry was anymore.

Harry had always had a fire in him, Fred loved that fire. Fred was crazy about that fire. But Harry had been cold as ice the night before. And… there was something shameless about Harry… it was bloody attractive, but it made Fred worry that he didn’t know how to talk to Harry anymore.

That had never been a problem before.

“Hey, love.” Fred sat across from Harry at breakfast the morning before the third task. Harry was pale, his leg was jiggling, and Fred thought he looked ready to barf.

“I’m going to die,” Harry whispered, just to Fred. He reached across the table and grabbed Fred’s wrist hard. “Fred, I- something is going to happen. If someone entered me to get me killed, tonight’s their last chance.”

Fred put his hand on top of Harry’s and felt an odd thrill of joy that Harry - brave, reckless, rash, Harry - was willing to admit to being afraid of something. It meant he trusted Fred. It meant… it meant a lot to Fred.

“So walk inside the maze, sit your cute arse down, and play tic-tac-toe in the dirt until someone else gets the Cup,” Fred said quietly. He wouldn’t let anyone else overhear him, he wouldn’t embarrass Harry like that.

And Harry wouldn’t do it.

“I can’t do that,” Harry said with a frown. “I can’t just be a quitter.”

“You didn’t even enter the tournament,” Fred insisted. It had been killing Fred to watch Harry stress himself over every task, get stressed to the point where he wouldn’t eat. And seeing Harry fight a dragon had been… hot, actually, but also terrifying.

Being turned on and terrified was an odd feeling that Fred wasn’t sure if he wanted to repeat or not.

“If I get the Cup though, you could open your shop,” Harry said with a shy smile. He grinned up at Fred and Fred melted. “I’ll swear it’s not leprechaun gold.”

“Win the Cup and use it on a new broom,” Fred grinned back. “Or sit on your arse and let Cedric win. Hufflepuff could use some glory, we don’t have to dominate all the contests.”

Harry laughed and then Fred had surprised him by getting his whole family to show up as Harry’s family. It had been a big romantic gesture and Harry had loved it.

But that was before and Fred should have planned for the after. After Harry had seen Cedric die, after Harry had been tortured and branded, after he had been called a Voldemort wannabe, after he had his wand snapped.

That much chaos could change a bloke, Fred just needed to adjust for the changes.

Big, romantic gestures were out… Harry was ‘in a relationship’. But Fred thought that Harry might still appreciate some small and thoughtful gestures and honesty.

Fred sat on the porch of Harry’s new house and waited for him to get home. While he waited, he looked around with interest. The neighborhood was… interesting.

There were a lot of houses with boarded up windows, which Fred thought meant they were abandoned, but there were still muggles roaming in and out of them. There was a general air of gloom to the area, it was sort of sad.

Sirius was loaded, Fred couldn’t imagine why he bought a house in a neighborhood that looked poorer than the Weasley’s had ever been. Though… Fred never thought that Sirius had all his marbles in the first place. Even when he had been hiding out in a cave, eating rats, he was mental.

Just eating rats was a mental thing to do… it wasn’t as if Sirius didn’t have mates like Lupin he could have hid out with. Or he could have bought or made Polyjuice, impersonated a random muggle and stayed at the inn.

Harry thought it meant Sirius cared about him, and Fred was sure Sirius did, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t also insane.

Maybe that was why Sirius bought a house there, it seemed like most of the neighbors were bloody mental as well. There was a girl at one of the houses beside Harry’s, dressed in some old-fashioned gown, hanging socks off the side of her porch. There were muggles across the street, going in and out of the boarded up house, with cigarettes in their mouths and shady looks on their faces. Then the other house beside Harry’s, the one Harry’s red-headed friend lived in, had some bloke snooping around.

Fred watched him for a while. He was a good-looking bloke, but Fred was sure that the little metal squares he took off the other cars on the street and began swapping around probably weren’t meant to be changed.

Or maybe they were. Fred realized that none of his dad’s muggle contraptions prepared him for actually being around so many muggles.

Fred knew he was out of place, but he could learn. Fred liked muggles, Fred could adapt.

For Harry? Fred would do anything.

Fred stayed on the porch even when it started to get dark and Fred was sure that muggle school was over. The kids next door had returned home, except for the one that nearly knocked Fred on his arse the day before. The red-head, Ian, maybe?, even laughed at Fred as he passed him.

Remus had already returned to the house, changed out of his swotty uniform into a slick black suit and left, but Harry didn’t return until it was fully dark out.

“Still here, are you?” Harry asked rudely as he walked toward his house.

“Afraid so,” Fred said. He stood up and stuck his hands in his pockets, just watching Harry while he walked. Harry… he even walked differently. There was a bit of a swagger to his stride and something tense about the muscles in his shoulders.

Harry looked different in general. He wasn’t wearing glasses anymore and he had his hair longer than it had been over the summer. There was a hard glint in his eyes, a far cry from the sweet bloke that he had been when they got together.

It wasn’t bad, it was just different.

Fred waited until Harry made it to the porch and then tried to say something honest before Harry could storm past him.

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” Fred said.

That stopped Harry in his tracks. Harry already had his hand on the doorknob and his back to Fred, but he paused.

“Are you?” Harry asked, looking over his shoulder at Fred.

Fred shrugged and held Harry’s eyes, rather liking that he could see Harry’s eyes without the glasses reflecting anything to block the view.

“I’m sorry that you didn’t want me to kiss you,” Fred clarified. He grinned just a little. “Lupin fixed my nose, I said I didn’t want to look like Dumbledore.”

Harry dropped his hand off the door and turned so he could lean against it with the hip that wasn’t bloodied and looked terrible.

“That’s funny,” Harry said quietly, looking down at his trainers. “I said the same thing before… not wanting my nose to be permanently crooked.”

“Great minds, eh?” Fred asked. He waved a hand toward the wooden porch swing that he had spent the day in. “Can we talk? I swear not to kiss you or insult your- your Mandy.”

Even if Fred thought that Harry’s girlfriend seemed like a slag. Who started shagging someone immediately in a relationship? And Fred thought she could probably stand to wear a bit more clothes… if she was with Harry, Fred thought it was disrespectful for her to have her body on display for anyone who fancied a peek.

“Yeah, alright.” Harry pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and went to sit on the swing. Fred eyed the cigarettes curiously while Harry lit one, wondering when Harry picked up the habit.

They used to smoke together at parties, but only ever weed and only occasionally. Fred liked the high that came from weed, but he wouldn’t do it if he wasn’t partying.

“So what’s new?” Fred asked after Harry lit his cigarette and they were both sitting on the swing. “Anything?”

Harry laughed on his exhale and Fred had to wait for him to finish coughing before he looked over at him with a more sarcastic smile than he used to have, but a smile all the same.

“Everything,” Harry emphasized. “Fred, I… this isn’t Hogwarts,” Harry waved his cigarette toward the neighborhood. “You don’t belong here.”

“Neither do you,” Fred said. He wanted to grab Harry’s hand, but he stopped himself. Instead, Fred settled for his most earnest look. “Have you heard? Voldemort’s been caught, Harry. You’re safe. You could come back.”

Harry inhaled on his cigarette, the orange glow of it burning bright for a moment, and then he exhaled up toward the sky.

“Yeah?” Harry said. “So nobody thinks I’m a death eater? They’ll give me my wand back and I can just go get my OWLS?”

“I…”

No, not exactly.

Harry had been convicted of a crime - as much bull as it had been. The Wizengamot expelled him, snapped his wand. But that didn’t mean Harry couldn’t still be a part of their world.

“You could come back, stay with me,” Fred said. “You don’t need a wand to help run the shop. Who cares what people think? You deserve to be there a bloody lot more than anyone else.”

“Why?” Harry asked him bluntly. Harry stared deadpan at Fred and there wasn’t any hint of humor on his face at all. “Why do I deserve to be there? No, you know what? Why would I want to be there? You know they might call me to court again? Because some slime balls like Lucius Malfoy said I’m a death eater that they might actually believe it?”

Fred opened his mouth to argue, but Harry kept going.

“Fred, they don’t give a damn about me,” Harry said. “Do I miss my friends? And you and your family? Of course. Do I miss having people talk about my dead parents all the time and compare me to the bloke that killed them? Fuck no.”

Fred’s eyebrows rose at the easy way Harry swore. It was also new, but not bad.

“I like it here,” Harry said stubbornly. “I like my new friends, I like that nobody calls me mental or wonders why I’m not more like my parents. I love Mandy. I’m happy.”

Fred looked at Harry and thought he seemed like the unhappiest person Fred had ever seen. Even while insisting that he was happy, Harry looked angry.

Angry and hurt.

“Nobody here knows you,” Fred said. “They don’t even call you by the right name, Lupin said they call you Harry Black.”

“Did Remus tell you that Sirius left?” Harry asked, ignoring the truth of what Fred said. “Funny, isn’t it? Doesn’t seem to matter whose name I have, nobody sticks around.”

Fred didn’t think it was funny at all. Lupin had mentioned that Sirius left when he gave Fred a room to crash in, Fred had thought Lupin didn’t seem real torn up over it though. But Fred also knew that one of Harry’s worst fears, one of his biggest insecurities when they had been together, was being left.

It hadn’t been a hardship for Fred to assure Harry that he didn’t want to leave him because Fred meant it. It broke Fred’s heart when Harry had pulled a noble, self-sacrificing, and boneheaded move and dumped him before moving.

Didn’t Harry know that Fred never would have let something like distance make him break his promise to stick around? Fred didn’t plan to ‘move on’, he loved Harry and Harry loved him, but Fred also didn’t plan on Harry moving on either.

It hurt, quite a bloody lot.

“I would have stuck around, if you let me,” Fred said quietly. Fred looked down at his hands on his knees and blinked quickly to keep from being ridiculous and doing something like crying.

“I wanted to stick around,” Fred told Harry without looking at him. “You told me you loved me and then you left me.”

As many times as Fred promised to not leave Harry, it had been Harry who left him.

“Fred…” Harry trailed off and Fred couldn’t find the courage to look at him.

Fred was good at the big romantic gestures. Fred was pants at little moments like that.

“I didn’t know where I was going, what was going to happen,” Harry said softly. Fred heard him take another drag off his cigarette before it went flying across the porch to land in the yard.

“We could have stayed together and might not have seen each other for years,” Harry said. “I couldn’t do that to you, you deserve- you deserve so much better, Fred.”

“You didn’t let me decide what I deserved.” Fred looked up at Harry then and let him see the cracks that Harry left behind. “You just… you decided we couldn’t make it work and then you- you fell in love with someone else.”

And then Harry rubbed her in Fred’s face. As if he’d never once loved Fred, as if all the things they said to each other didn’t mean anything.

“Fred, don’t you get it?” Harry reached over and grabbed Fred’s hand from his lap to squeeze it tightly. “I- just… I love Mandy, I do. She’s… you’d like her, if you gave her a chance.”

Fred bit his lip to hold back an insult. Fred was pretty sure he’d never like Harry’s girlfriend.

“That doesn’t mean I - er… I mean, can you only love one person?” Harry asked so earnestly. “But she’s here, Fred. She’s… we’re the same, we’re more the same than anyone I’ve ever met. I don’t want to go back with you and I can’t leave her.”

“Then I’ll stay,” Fred offered. He didn’t want to cry or beg, but he was close to it. “Harry, please? I just… I love you so damn much.” Fred squeezed Harry’s hand back and thought of every smile, every hidden kiss, every wink cast across a common room that they shared.

“You’re going to be more hurt,” Harry said, sounding sad. “Because I won’t leave her.”

“I don’t care,” Fred said stubbornly. If Harry let Fred stay, be a part of his life, then- then maybe Harry would see that Fred would stick around and- and… Fred didn’t actually know about Mandy…

Harry wouldn’t leave her and Fred didn’t want Harry to be hurt, but Fred couldn’t help but hope that Mandy would leave him.

Mandy would leave Harry, Harry already said he loved Fred, and they could just pick up where they left off.

Not that Fred was stupid enough to say that.

“You won’t like it here,” Harry warned him. Harry slowly released his hand and leaned back against the swing. “You can’t use magic or anything. Remus and I are used to it, you’ll go spare.”

Fred leaned back too and looked around the neighborhood again. It wasn’t so different in the dark than it had been during the light. There were still weirdos wandering around, but… Fred could make it work.

If Harry and Lupin were doing fine, Fred could too.

Remus had spent so much time trying to find a place within the wizarding world that he forgot how much he enjoyed the muggle world.

Wizards never had clubs as interesting as muggles did.

Remus had a bloody terrible day teaching. The school was underfunded, the students were uninspired, and the materials were sorely lacking. There was just no room for creativity in Remus’ current position, not when he didn’t know if it would be permanent or not. Remus gave the school a list of his monthly ‘chemotherapy appointments’ for the rest of the year and they assured him they could find a substitute for those days, but Remus had heard that line before.

If they fired him, Remus would just return to what he was best at. And in the meantime, there were plenty of ways to work off his irritation.

Remus waited against the side of the long bar that ran through the middle of the club while he sipped his drink and looked. There were dozens of beautiful people in the club, dancing and writhing on each other to the beat of the music pulsing around them. When the lights flashed over their bodies, lighting them up with multicolors, they all looked tempting.

But boring.

They were half-dressed, there to be shown off. They wanted attention to validate themselves and Remus had never been one for assuring someone of their looks.

It was why he gave in to Nymphadora’s easy flirtations and the others before her. Confidence turned him on, and none of the people dancing for an audience carried any true confidence. One kind word would charm them to his lap, one cruel word would echo in their minds for days.

A few women and men approached him with a flirty smile and it only took Remus a few moments into a conversation to be disappointed. There was no challenge in it, no rush of the ‘will they, won’t they?’ that Remus enjoyed.

Remus nearly gave up on it, decided to call it a bad night, then he noticed her.

Fiona Gallagher had hidden herself in the middle of the dance floor and as soon as Remus saw her, he couldn’t look away.

Fiona was nearly unrecognizable. There was no stress weighing down her shoulders, no looking over her shoulder for the children she took on as her own. There was only Fiona with a long curtain of dark hair spilling down her back, a tight black dress that shimmied under the lights, and Fiona’s look of pleasure as she danced to the rhythm and her hands traveled over her body.

Remus gave a very cursory look around for the boyfriend and after finding him absent, Remus drained the last of his drink and easily cut through the crowd to reach his stunning young neighbor.

“Mind if I join you?” Remus asked in a low voice once he stood just behind Fiona. She looked over her shoulder and the indignant look of a woman about to verbally eviscerate a man disappeared as soon as she recognized Remus.

Remus waited for her to nod before he slid his hands around her waist and worked his frontside to her back, effortlessly moving with her. Fiona was an excellent dancer, it was intoxicating just moving against her with his hands gripping her waist.

“You’re not so bad for an old man,” Fiona laughed when Remus complimented her. Her teeth sparkled when she looked over her shoulder at him and Remus returned her smile immediately.

“An old man?” Remus chuckled and tightened his hold on her, wishing he could leave a mark on her, something that would rid himself of the pesky boyfriend.

“I’m young at heart,” Remus assured her with a lazy smirk that usually worked well for him. “I’ve got life experience, love.”

“If you say so,” Fiona winked. She swiveled her hips and pressed against Remus, proving her own experience in the way her arse ground against him.

Remus slowly slid his hands from her waist to her stomach, holding her more possessively, and then inched his hands upward, waiting to see if she would stop him or not.

Fiona’s only response was to give Remus better access by arching back against him and tossing her arm behind his head, tangling her fingers in his hair.

Remus’ blood was pounding as he had a beautiful woman dancing against him, her nails scratching at his scalp, his hands cupping her breasts.

It took everything in Remus to not merely hike her dress up, rip whatever she wore beneath it, and take her in the middle of the crowd.

“Do that again and I’ll forget that I’m a gentleman,” Remus growled in Fiona’s ear after she pushed her arse against him again.

“It feels like a night to forget things,” Fiona said in a breathless voice, just as turned on as Remus was judging by the scent of arousal that was thick around them.

That was as much of a yes as anything and Remus was quick to pull her off the dance floor. Fiona willingly followed him and Remus only made it as far as the back hallway that was dark and empty of patrons.

Fiona wrapped her arms around Remus’ neck, Remus dipped his head down to lightly kiss her neck before he bit it, leaving a mark. Fiona moaned and Remus pushed her against the wall, rucking her dress up around her waist as he did.

Remus’ hands were on her arse, her perfectly shaped arse, and hers were trying to push his jacket off him.

“Twice,” Remus murmured to her just before he slid a hand between her thighs from behind and decided to merely rip the lace thong for access.

“Hm?” Fiona hummed, her legs spreading around Remus’ body.

Remus easily held her up against the wall with one arm while his other hand moved up to her slim and white neck.

“That’s how many times I’m going to get you off right now,” Remus told her. He squeezed her neck experimentally and the sound she made was sinful. “Perhaps three, you seem eager.”

“Fuck you,” Fiona whined while her lashes fluttered.

“That’s why we’re here, love.”

The wandless magic it took to put up a subtle charm for Fiona’s privacy was a strain; making Fiona come on his fingers, his tongue, and his cock had not been.

Fiona was slick with sweat and her hair was deliciously ruined when they left the club together. It was cold, but they both seemed to need the chill to wash away the heat they had shared.

“Fuck, I need a cigarette,” Fiona laughed. She tripped while she began walking and Remus pulled her to his side to keep her upright. She wasn’t drunk, Remus was certain of that before he touched her.

It wouldn’t do to take the neighbor and have her regret it the next morning.

“Here.” Remus had a pack in his jacket and he lit one for Fiona before lighting himself one. There were very few things to prolong the post-orgasmic bliss, Marlboro Reds were one of them.

They walked in silence while they smoked, not needing to share any heavy words or promises. Remus wanted to work off an agitating day, Fiona was young and full of hormones.

It was a mutually beneficial experience.

“Is the boyfriend around?” Remus asked Fiona when they entered the block they both lived on.

“Steve? No.” Fiona snorted and Remus was appreciative of the way she fit herself closer to his side.

“So there’s nothing stopping you from coming inside for a drink?” Remus asked charmingly. He didn’t care where the boyfriend was, just that he wasn’t there to cause any needless guilt. The two of them stopped in front of Fiona’s gate and Fiona glanced toward her porch.

“A drink or a fuck?” Fiona asked Remus with a slow smile.

Remus ran his hand teasingly up her side, pulling her against his chest when he reached her rib cage.

“Both,” he said.

Fiona leaned up to put her lips just far enough from Remus to tease him.

“It better be the best drink of my fucking life,” she breathed.

Remus immediately lifted her by her arse and Fiona squealed even when she wrapped her legs around his waist and Remus began carrying her to his house.

“Will you be quiet so we don’t disturb Harry or should I gag you?” Remus asked casually as he stepped up on the porch.

“I think you should gag me, just to be safe,” Fiona said seriously.

Remus smirked up at her, delighted by her sass and her attitude.

And just when Remus thought he might make a game of seeing how loud he could make her scream, they stepped inside and Remus saw an envelope in thick yellow parchment on the doormat.

It was addressed to Mister Harry J Potter and the official seal on it was unmistakable.

Remus let Fiona slide down his chest and land on the floor as he stared at the letter that Nymphadora had warned him might arrive.

“Fiona, I’m afraid it’s farewell for now,” Remus said absently as he reached down for the letter.

It would be a summons and Remus would never be able to focus on pleasing a partner while there was a summons from the Wizengamot for the child that tattooed a moon on his arm for Remus.