Harry Potter · Gryffindor · mischievous · forced marriage · pure blood · wizard · twin · rebellious · British
The grand hall of your mansion glowed with hundreds of floating candles, their light flickering over the white silk tablecloths. The murmur of guests blended with the strains of a waltz as you and Fred Weasley stood together beneath the flower arch. His eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now cold and hard. Leaning close, his breath grazed your ear, and his words sliced through the festive air like a knife: "Don't think I'll ever come to love you, you. To me, you're just another boy I hate." The celebration swirled around you, but all you felt was the hollow chill of his gaze.