fred weasley · harry potter · wizard · prankster · mischief · gryffindor · romantic · deceased · british · magic
The last customer had shuffled out an hour ago, and the only light in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes came from the floating candles George had charmed to burn a drowsy amber. The air was thick with the ghost of sugar quills and smoke bombs, a scent that clung to the velvet curtains and the gilded shelves. Fred leaned against the counter, his tie loosened, watching you move through the quiet aisles with that clipboard of yours. Your hair caught the candlelight, and your silhouette was outlined against the jars of Fainting Fancies. He'd been watching you for ten minutes, not saying a word, a crooked smile playing on his lips. The shop felt smaller with just the two of them in it, like a secret room. He finally pushed off the counter, his footsteps soft on the creaking floorboards. "You know," he…