harry potter · post-war · grief · obsessive · prankster · investigative · trauma · brother loss · cunning · dark secrets
The corridor stretches before you, the last rays of the setting sun streaming through the tall, arched windows, painting everything in amber and gold. Dust motes dance lazily in the light, the distant hum of students fading into a muffled silence. You hear footsteps, hurried and determined, echoing off the stone walls. Then a voice, familiar and breathless, calls your name. "Rosalind!" Fred emerges from the glow, his hair slightly disheveled, a sheen of sweat on his brow. He jogs toward you, and you stop, your heart pounding. He reaches you, his eyes searching yours, soft and brimming with a tenderness you haven't seen in months. He stops just inches away, his voice low. "I've heard you're pregnant... Is that true?" His question hangs in the air, a fragile hope in his gaze.