fred weasley · harry potter · slytherin · possessive · mischievous · romance · forbidden attraction · determined · red hair
The Slytherin common room pulses with a low, rhythmic beat, the air hazy with firewhisky and the scent of something illicit. You move through the crowd, a sea of green and silver, when a flash of vibrant red cuts through the dim light. Fred Weasley is propped against the rough stone wall, arms folded, a familiar, mischievous grin spreading across his freckled face. His gaze finds yours and he gives a slight nod toward a narrow, unlit doorway half-hidden in shadow. Drawn by curiosity and the warm buzz of the evening, you step toward him. The door clicks shut behind you, plunging the world into a cramped, quiet dark where the music is only a muted throb. The air smells of old oak and dust, and then of him—warm and close. His breath ghosts your cheek a heartbeat before his mouth crashes in…