♫ affection

- BETWEEN FRIENDS

"and we'll keep falling on each other to fill the empty spaces..."

✧

Priscilla walked over to the tap in the corner and turned on the faucet, trying to keep her cool. She wanted to splash a bit of water on her face, sit in the corner and do nothing, but she had to face the music. Fred came to aid her and dropped a big wooden bucket inside the sink. It started to fill with steamy water and bubbles in the candlelight.

Fred noticed she still looked so distant and upset. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he offered.

She looked up at him then with a sad smile on her face. "No, I'd like to clear the air."

She turned off the faucet and grabbed one small pile of clothes from the corner. She threw them into the bucket to let them soak in the soapy water and sat down on a nearby stool. Fred leaned against the counter, ready to listen intently.

"I got a letter the other day that my parents have gone into hiding. I have no idea who's after them, where they are, when I'll hear from them, or if they're okay. And there's a sick and twisted part of me that doesn't care."

The rest came flooding out of her, and Fred didn't say a word. She explained everything; she explained their jobs, how distanced they became when she started at Ilvermorny, and how she didn't feel like she had parents anymore in the first place. She shared how scared she was that she had nowhere to go. When the tears started coming out, he knelt down next to her and put a hand on her knee as she began to sob. Everything began to flow out of her - she was surprised how easy it felt to say all of this to Fred. She talked about how scared she was of never hearing from her parents again, how different Hogwarts was, and how much pressure she felt to catch up. She even brought up how much anxiety she had around possibly losing her friends she had made at Hogwarts, himself and even George and Draco included, just like she had lost her friends at Ilvermorny.

"I'm sorry about your parents, Cilla. You're going to have to be strong," he consoled.

"I'm just... I was so terrified of making a mistake and then I did with you. I'm sorry if I hurt you, Fred, I really am," she confessed. "I don't know if I can do that again."

He took a moment to think carefully about what he was going to say next. "What part about last night was a mistake?"

"Leaving? Pushing things too far? I don't know. I'm not ready for a relationship, or even a situation-ship."

Fred chuckled. "Nobody said anything about a relationship. I reckoned we were just having a bit of fun... I like hanging out with you. Thank you for your apology, I understand now why you left. It doesn't have to happen again... unless you want it to." He looked up at her apprehensively. "I'd like to stay friends either way."

She sniffed in response, wiping the last of her tears from her cheek. Fred reached up and helped with the pad of his thumb gently.

"Let me think about it over some laundry," Priscilla said breaking into a smile, and Fred smiled in return. He helped her up and they got started scrubbing the first round of clothes in the bucket.

"Wait, thinking about if you want to stay friends, or?"

"Frederic, please. You're stuck with me now."

✧

"God, I wish I had my muggle radio," Priscilla complained. "Your brother's dragon burnt it to a fucking crisp."

It was halfway through the night and they were making a fair bit of progress, but the stains were nearly impossible to get out of the Beauxbaton's silk and Durmstrang fur accents. Cilla's hands were shriveled up and aching from scrubbing for hours on end.

As much as she tried not to, Cilla still snuck glances Fred's way throughout the night. She detailed the furrow in his brow as he scrubbed a difficult stain, and the muscles on his arms when he rolled up his sleeves. Fuck.

"Yeah, how unfortunate," Fred mused. He then scrubbed a sleeve a little too hard, splashing Cilla's arms with warm water and bubbles. "Oopsies," he said innocently.

"Hey, that was on purpose!" she countered, giving him a little flick of water with her fingers.

Fred scoffed. "Like that wasn't?! This is war, woman!"

"You started it!"

Within seconds, they were running around the room, laughing and screaming and splashing each other. Candles caught in the crossfire were doused, and slowly the laundry room grew dimmer.

"Aguamenti!" Cilla cried out when she was cornered at the door, and water went flying at Fred's face from her hands.

"Hey! You cheated!" he laughed.

"There were rules?!"

Fred ran over to the sink and picked up the bucket in retaliation. Priscilla's eyes went wild. "Fred Weasley, don't you dare."

"Who's gonna stop me?" he teased.

"I'm wearing white, you idiot! Agh!"

Priscilla tried to cast a blocking charm in time, but it didn't work. Fred chucked the bucket at her too quickly and she was soaked. She screamed on contact, the water had gotten cold while they were distracted. It was fucking freezing.

"Fred! I'm going to get you, you little-"

She was interrupted by Fred pouring the rest of the water in the bucket over his head. "No need," he said, but it sounded like he was underwater as the water poured over his mouth.

Priscilla laughed and ran over to him, slipping on the soapy floor on the way. He caught her before she could fall, laughing at her clumsiness. She put the bucket on top of his head and he grabbed her in his arms, making her kick and wiggle in his grasp.

She turned towards him and lifted the bucket a tad, just to see his face, as her laughter died down. He was still smiling down at her with that goofy grin of his. 

Suddenly, the air of the room changed. It was just her and him, standing in floating bubbles and dimmed candlelight. She inhaled deeply as she studied him, and him her. She instantly forgot about her plan she made hours before of not pursuing anything with him.

She couldn't deny the pull to him any longer. He was an annoying itch she needed to scratch. A drug she had to indulge in. A kiss she needed to steal.

He was Fred Weasley. Simple and true. And she needed to have him.

"Fred?"

"Yeah?"

"No strings attached, right?" He nodded, his arms tightening around her waist. "Can I kiss you?" she added. He nodded again, the corners of his mouth twisting in a smirk.

She leaned in and kissed him gently at first, testing the waters. This time there was no worry or anxiety around what was happening. Without the barrier of the alcohol in her way, she realized the familiarity of his lips on hers calmed her as if this is where she was meant to be all along.

Fred hummed into her mouth as he kissed her sweetly. He let his other hand come up to the side of her face and cup her cheek, still wet from when he splashed her and washed her tears away.

Maybe this wasn't how two people without strings should be kissing, but it felt right. It felt perfect. It felt warm, despite the chill from the water, and it felt like what Cilla had always imagined home to feel like.

She was relieved to know that he had been on the same page the entire time and she had already forgotten all about what was troubling her earlier. Even if just for the time being. What she still couldn't quite grasp was how inexplicably drawn to him she was. Being around him made her feel confident and sure of herself, unlike how she felt when she was alone.

She lifted the silly bucket off of his head mid-kiss and tossed it on a pile of laundry, making them both chuckle. He weaved his fingers through her dripping wet hair as she went up on her tippie-toes to get closer to him. He was impossibly tall compared to her, and she wasn't considered short by American standards. She really liked their height difference, though.

Fred pulled away for a moment to look at her. Her heart stopped, immediately worrying something went wrong again. Sensing her alarm, he moved his hand to lift her chin so she could meet his gaze. He was completely serious, a rare expression coming from him. "We can stop whenever you want," he assured. "Please tell me, yeah? I don't want to have another day like today again, it was bloody torture."

She blinked at him, surprised by his honesty. Her heart caught in her chest at the realization that he truly felt the same way today. She licked her lips and shook her head, "I don't want to, do you?" It was an honest answer.

He chuckled, shook his head, and leaned in again, pulling her even closer. She smiled into the kiss, happy and soapy and delirious, but she had enough of the cute kissy shit. She was ready for more.

She grabbed his shirt in her fists, taking command of the situation, and walked him over to the stool. He broke the kiss to ask what she was doing with a cheeky grin, but she kissed him again to shut him up, forcing him to sit down.

Priscilla realized she liked being in control in situations like this. This wasn't like making out with random dudes she met at the mall behind a dumpster, this was fucking magic.

Priscilla climbed on top of him experimentally. After a little bit of fidgeting, she was able to straddle him on each side comfortably. He held her in place at her thighs, inching dangerously close to her bum. She could tell he was trying to take this slow for her, but she needed those strong arms where she wanted them to be. She wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, inching closer to him so their soaked chests were almost touching, making his hands slide further down to cup her ass. He chuckled and squeezed his hands lightly. When his tongue wandered into her mouth, making a jolt of electricity run through her veins, she had it bite back a moan.

They stayed like that for a little bit, her making out with him on his lap. There was no awkward bumping of chins or teeth, there were no awkward "is this okay?" pauses. It wasn't too much or too little, it was the exact pace Cilla wanted.

Fred broke the kiss to nibble at her neck. She smirked and tilted her head back to give him better access as he bit and licked up to her jaw. She realized he held onto her even tighter like this, maybe he was afraid she was going to fall, or even run away like last night. Regardless, she ran her hands through his ginger locks and he sighed onto her neck, giving her goosebumps.

He really seemed to like kissing her there.

"Can I touch you, love?" he murmured into her neck.

She bit down the part of her that was scared of going further or giving him the control and nodded. He snaked his arms around to her front and cupped her breasts in his hands on top of her soaked shirt that was likely very see-through from the water.

Everything was happening so fast, but after their conversation, and how careful and considerate Fred had been so far, she felt much more comfortable being with him like this. She liked this.

Suddenly, a key entered the lock in the door. They stilled in horror.

"Shit," Cilla whispered as they scrambled apart. With a wave of her hand, all the candles in the room went out.

When Filch finally opened the door, the candles lit back up, all he could see was Priscilla holding a huge Durmstrang jacket over her body and Fred leaning over the sink, scrubbing at a piece of blue fabric.

"Quite dashing, them Durmstrang uniforms, wouldn't you say Mr. Filch?" Fred called out.

The man groaned in response and closed the door, locking them in again.

Priscilla lowered the heavy, soaking wet jacket with a sigh and a hand over her heart. It was beating like crazy.

Fred walked over to her with a cheeky grin. "I don't know what the geezer expected, leaving two teenagers locked in a room together. You think he'd learn by now," he joked as he kissed her cheek. His fingers traced the trail of marks he left on her neck. "Sorry about that," he said. "I can heal it for you if you want?"

"No need," she responded with a wink.