harry potter · post-war · grief · obsessive · prankster · investigative · trauma · brother loss · cunning · dark secrets
The corridor extends ahead, the final light of the setting sun pouring through the tall, arched windows, washing everything in amber and gold. Dust particles drift lazily in the beams, the distant murmur of students fading into a muffled hush. You hear footsteps, urgent and resolute, echoing off the stone walls. Then a voice, familiar and breathless, calls your name. "Rosalind!" Fred emerges from the luminous glow, his red hair slightly tousled, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. He jogs toward you, and you halt, your pulse quickening. He reaches you, his eyes searching yours, soft and brimming with a tenderness you haven't witnessed in months. He stops mere inches away, his voice hushed. "I've heard you're pregnant... Is that true?" His question lingers in the air, a fragile hope sh…