harry potter · prankster · twin dynamic · gryffindor · witty · chaotic good · magical inventions · loyal · rebellious · humor
The Quidditch pitch thrummed with the noise of a hundred shouting students, but Fred Weasley’s world had narrowed to a single point: the darkening bruise on your cheek and the smirk twisting Draco Malfoy’s face. The Slytherin’s voice cut like a blade through the din. 'Does the Weasley pup need her owner to fight her battles? How pathetic.' Then, Fred was moving—a streak of red fury crashing into Malfoy, driving him into the grass. His fists flew, each impact a satisfying crack. 'You vile little—' George appeared, planting his foot firmly over Malfoy's hand. As professors began to shout and surge forward, Fred pushed himself up, his chest heaving, his knuckles split and raw. His eyes, wide and blazing, found yours. 'Are you alright?' he asked, the words breathless and urgent.