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Chapter Text

Chapter One: The Wrong Platform

Anna pressed her forehead to the cool window of the car, watching the gray morning rush past in streaks of drizzle and cloud. Her parents were chatting quietly in the front seat, but she wasn’t listening. Her suitcase sat beside her, upright and zipped with a tidy efficiency that betrayed how little she’d actually wanted to pack.

“Just a week,” her mum had said, placing a gentle hand on Anna’s shoulder that morning. “You’ll be fine, sweetheart. Aunt Martha is excited to have you. You can stay as long as you want, really. Don’t worry about calling every day. Have an adventure.”

Her dad had chimed in with a half-smile. “Platform 10, eleven o’clock. Easy to remember. We’ll be off the grid for the week—no Wi-Fi, no cell signal—so no pressure to check in until you want.”

And now, here they were. King’s Cross Station loomed ahead, all steel arches and tired travelers. Her dad pulled into a drop-off lane with a practiced signal to the attendant. They both turned to look at her.

“You’ll be alright, yeah?” her mum asked. “Text us when you’re on the train if you can.”

Anna nodded, even though she didn’t feel alright. The idea of spending a week with her mum’s eccentric older sister, who collected antique birdcages and didn’t believe in microwaves, was only slightly better than being alone at home. Still, her parents were heading to a hiking retreat in the Scottish Highlands and they didn’t like the idea of leaving their sixteen-year-old daughter alone in the city.

Clutching the paper ticket between her fingers, Anna stepped out of the car. The thin slip was smooth and glossy, the ink crisp and neatly aligned. “Platform 10. 11:00 a.m.” it read in bold type, her name printed plainly in the corner beside a barcode.

She glanced back once as the car pulled away, then followed the signs through the crowd. Her suitcase rolled noisily over the tiles. King’s Cross was a maze of strangers and platforms, but she spotted the sign for Platforms 9 and 10 up ahead. Still watching the time on her phone, she barely glanced up as she walked directly between the two platforms, skimming past a tall column—

And vanished.

For a moment, Anna stumbled, her stomach dropped as though she had missed a step on the stairs. She blinked in confusion as a burst of steam and shouting voices surrounded her. She turned in a circle. The station she’d known had disappeared. Instead, there was an old-fashioned train, the kind from black-and-white movies, puffing patiently beside a cobblestone platform. A hanging sign read, in ornate letters:

Platform 9¾

Anna turned, there was no sign of King’s Cross behind her.

Children with owls and cats in cages brushed past her, all wearing long black robes like something out of a storybook. Luggage floated behind them on its own. A freckled boy chased a chocolate frog down the platform, squealing with laughter. One girl levitated a stack of books back into her open trunk, murmuring words that didn’t sound like any language Anna recognized.

“What the—?” she muttered. She started to wonder if she had dozed off in the car.

This didn’t feel like any dream she’d had before.

Anna tugged at her brown hair, which curled lightly at the ends, and adjusted the strap of her suitcase. Her hazel eyes darted nervously over the crowd, wide with disbelief.

But before she could process more, a whistle shrieked and a loud voice called, “Last call for the Hogwarts Express!”

The crowd surged. Without thinking, Anna was swept along. She ducked into the nearest carriage door, her suitcase bumping up awkwardly behind her. The narrow corridor was packed, but she found an empty compartment and slid the door shut, heart hammering.

She sat there for a moment, stunned. Her brain scrambled to make sense of what had happened. Was this some weird pop-up immersive theater? Some kind of themed train for school kids? Had she stumbled into a movie set?

But it all felt real.

The train shuddered forward, and Anna realized, whether this was a prank, an accident, or some kind of elaborate dream, she was now on the train.

She pulled out her phone. No service. Naturally. She stared at the little “No Signal” icon as the buildings outside blurred into countryside.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll just ride this to wherever it’s going. Then I’ll call my aunt. Or a cab.”

She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath.

Several minutes passed.

Then the door to the compartment slid open.

Three girls entered, laughing and chatting—until they spotted her.

All three wore the same black robes she’d seen earlier. They looked older than most of the other kids, maybe sixteen or seventeen. One of them, tall with dark skin and long braids, narrowed her eyes slightly at Anna. The second, fair and lively-eyed, gave a confused smile. The third girl, blonde and athletic-looking, leaned forward slightly, as if Anna were a puzzle to figure out.

“Er,” said the blonde one, “this compartment taken?”

Anna sat up. “Oh—no, I don’t think so. Do you know when we’re expected to arrive in Edinburgh?”

The three girls exchanged a look.

Then the tall one said, carefully, “This is the Hogwarts Express.”

Anna blinked. “What’s Hogwarts?”

Now all three looked at her like she’d grown another head.

“Merlin’s beard,” the fair girl whispered. “I think she might be a Muggle.”

The other two shushed her.

Anna frowned. “A what?”

“Alicia,” said the tall one, stepping into the compartment and sitting across from Anna, “you cannot just say that.”

“But it’s true!”

“You don’t even know if she knows what that means.”

“I don’t,” Anna said flatly. “What’s a Muggle?”

The blonde girl winced and sat beside her. “It just means someone who doesn’t use magic.”

Anna laughed. “Magic? Seriously? Are you making fun of me?”

Now all three girls were fully in the compartment, and the fair one, Alicia, shut the door and drew the curtains.

She drew out a wand and whispered something that sounded foreign. Anna’s suitcase hovered off the ground. Anna couldn’t hold back a shriek, causing the girls to explode in laughter.

The dark-skinned girl extended her hand. “I’m Angelina Johnson. That’s Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet. We’re in Gryffindor. Sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“Anna,” she replied slowly, shaking her hand. “Anna Foster.”

They stared at her again. Angelina leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Anna, do you have any idea where you are right now?”

“I… thought I was going to my aunt’s. She lives up north. I was supposed to catch the train from Platform 10. My parents dropped me off. I must’ve… I don’t know… taken a wrong turn.”

The three girls looked at each other again.

Angelina exhaled. “You somehow made it through the barrier.”

“She walked through it?” Katie asked. “Without magic?”

Angelina nodded slowly. “I’ve never heard of that happening. I’m pretty sure it can’t happen, but here you are.”

“There are charms, protections in place to prevent this.” Katie looked at Anna, puzzled.

Angelina folded her arms, nodding grimly. “Exactly. The barrier is supposed to keep non-magical people out. If you made it through, it’s not just an accident, it’s a serious breach. The Ministry won’t take that lightly.”

Anna’s breath quickened. “What kind of trouble?”

Katie’s face darkened. “Possible expulsion for us, first off. Hogwarts has strict rules. And the Ministry…if they find out a Muggle’s been here, they’ll get involved. It could mean legal consequences. There will be an inquiry for sure”

Angelina added quietly, “We could even be in danger. It’s serious. I’m sure they’ll find a way to blame Dumbledore. He’d be sacked.”

Anna looked around, eyes wide. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. I just want to get off this train. When we stop, I’m calling my aunt.”

Alicia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Look, we get it. This is overwhelming. But you’ve already left the station. Turning back now isn’t an option.”

Katie leaned in, voice softer. “You’re standing at the edge of a door most people never get to open. A glimpse into a world no Muggle’s supposed to see.”

Angelina nodded. “If you get caught, Dumbledore will likely erase your memory of all of this. You won’t remember a thing. So, no real harm done. Poof, you’ll be at your aunt’s house.”

Anna bit her lip, torn between fear and fascination.

“Just one week,” Alicia said. “We keep you hidden, watch your back. You can leave anytime if it gets dangerous. But this—this is a once in a lifetime chance.”

The compartment fell silent except for the soft clatter of the moving train.

Anna’s pulse thudded in her ears. She glanced out the window at the blurred countryside, then back at the girls.

Finally, she nodded slowly. “Let’s do it. One week. But I’m out if it feels wrong. I don’t want my memory erased.”

The three exchanged relieved smiles.

Katie pulled a black set of robes from her bag and handed it over. They looked to be slightly long and loose for Anna’s slight frame.

Alicia looked over with a laugh. “Katie always brings a spare. Just in case she spills soup down her front again.”

Katie rolled her eyes. “Once. It happened once.”

Anna forced a shaky smile but her mind raced. What was she doing?
Her hands trembled as she slipped the robes on, overwhelmed by how heavy the fabric felt, like it was weighing her down, a costume she couldn’t live up to.

She fumbled with the little silver fasteners, heart pounding like a drum in her ears.

Angelina’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “You’re about to experience a whole new world.”

Chapter Text

Anna had barely stepped off the train before a wave of disbelief, excitement, and pure, raw panic washed over her. The station at Hogsmeade looked like something from a storybook. There were lanterns floating in midair, carriages waiting with no horses in sight, students bustling about in dark robes and pointed hats. They all climbed into carriages like it was normal. But to Anna, it all felt like an impossible dream she couldn’t wake from.

She convinced herself that everyone was staring. Her chest tightened. Every glance in her direction felt like an accusation. Her fingers clenched the strap of her suitcase so hard her knuckles whitened.

“Stick close,” Angelina murmured, gently steering her by the elbow. “And don’t look too surprised.”

Anna forced a nod, swallowing the lump rising in her throat. She tried to force a neutral expression.

Alicia paused, then snapped a twig off a nearby tree with a grin. “Here.”

Anna blinked as Alicia pressed a slender stick into her palm.

“Your ‘wand’,” Alicia whispered.

“You’re joking.”

“Of course she is! That won’t fool anyone,” Katie smirked. “Just tuck it in your robe pocket. Try not to wave it around. If anyone asks, you’re shy. Don’t volunteer more than you have to.”

“And if Snape asks you anything,” Angelina added lowly, “run.”

Anna gave a breathless laugh that was half hysteria, half exhaustion. She slipped the wand carefully into the inside pocket of her robe, gripping it like a lifeline.

“This is actually insane,” she whispered.

“This is Hogwarts,” Alicia said, grinning.

The four girls slipped into the crowd as it surged forward, following the path lit by floating lamps toward a black silhouette in the distance.

The castle rose against the dark sky like a story half-told: towers and turrets stretching high into the mist, glowing windows scattered like constellations.

Anna’s mouth went dry. She tried to force her eyes on the crowd ahead of her, but her gaze kept drifting upwards. It wasn’t long before the crowd entered the castle through great wooden doors.

Inside, the Great Hall took her breath away again. Her jaw dropped before she remembered and slowly closed her mouth.

The ceiling looked like open sky, glittering with stars that shifted as clouds drifted lazily by. Thousands of candles floated overhead, casting a golden glow across the long tables.

Four tables. Four houses.

Angelina whispered, “Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin. We’re Gryffindor—stick close.”

The girls slid into their seats near the middle of the Gryffindor table. Anna ended up between Angelina and Alicia. Katie sat just across.

Her hands were shaking as she folded them tightly in her lap. She caught a few curious looks in her direction. She fought the urge to curl up and disappear. She felt like she was going to throw up.

Alicia nudged her gently. “Just follow our lead. Don’t freak out when the food shows up.”

Anna gave a weak smile, heart racing like it wanted to burst through her ribs.

Then—bam.

Just as she reached to take a small sip to calm her nerves, her goblet rose an inch off the table. Pumpkin juice splashed on the tablecloth in front of her.

A boy’s voice rang out with mischievous laughter.

“Fred, be nice!” Angelina warned.

“Oops! My bad,” Fred said, his red hair catching the candlelight as he grinned from down the table.

Anna’s heart nearly stopped. Her cheeks flamed hot. She scrambled to pull her foot back from the dripping juice, fumbling awkwardly. Her stomach twisted in knots. Alicia helped her clean the mess on the table.

The boy’s laughter was infectious, but Anna felt a cold sweat break out. It was obvious to the others at the table that she was an unfamiliar face. She wanted nothing more than to vanish into the table.

Katie rolled her eyes, whispering, “Don’t mind Fred. He’s harmless… mostly.”

But Anna barely heard her. Her gaze darted nervously around the hall, catching glimpses of curious looks and whispering students.

She forced herself to look up, just for a second, and then stopped. The boy, Fred, sat two seats down the table with a group of laughing students. He was tall, with bright red hair that stood out even in the warm glow of the hall. His head tilted back in laughter, an easy smile playing on his lips. His twin, because there was no mistaking the resemblance, was beside him, sharing the moment.

He must have felt her gaze. Their eyes suddenly locked.

Anna’s breath caught. His expression shifted from amusement to sharp curiosity, like he’d spotted something strange in the corner of the room.

Panic welled inside her. She dropped her gaze immediately, hands trembling on the table. Her cheeks still burning.

Angelina leaned in to say something, but before she could, Fred laughed louder, his voice cutting through the hall.

Anna peeked up again.

His twin, George, was now leaning toward Katie, smirking. “Oi, Katie! What’s your friend’s name?”

Katie answered smoothly, “Anna. She’s a transfer from a small school up north.”

“I’ve never heard of a sixth year transfer.” Fred took a sip of pumpkin juice. “What school?”

Anna hesitated. “…Dunraven Academy. It’s small.”

The name sounded hollow even to Anna’s ears.

Fred let out a short laugh. “Dunraven? That sounds made up.” He tilted his head, studying her expression. “Come on, you just pulled that out of your hat, didn’t you?”

Heat crept into Anna’s cheeks. “It’s real,” she insisted, though even to her own ears the words sounded unconvincing.

“Right, and I’m the Minister for Magic.” Fred’s grin widened, equal parts teasing and probing.

He glanced back at Anna, sizing her up. His smile grew a little show-offish, like he was testing how much attention she could handle.

Katie rolled her eyes but whispered, “The twins are always like this around new people. They never know when to quit.”

Anna swallowed hard, feeling those blue eyes burn into her.

The doors to the Hall creaked open. Professor McGonagall marched in, leading a line of nervous first years.

The Sorting was about to begin.

Anna exhaled shakily and allowed herself one more glance down the table.

Fred wasn’t watching the Sorting.

He was watching her.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: Unwritten Hours

The first morning without classes stretched strangely. Too quiet. Too still.

The Gryffindor common room emptied in a flurry of black robes and trailing bags. Katie, Alicia, and Angelina had urged Anna to stay behind. “Safest place,” Katie had whispered, giving Anna a warm smile.

Angelina squeezed her shoulder gently before leaving. “Don’t go wandering. Filch’ll have a fit.”

Katie added, “We’ll bring you a pumpkin pasty from lunch,” and Alicia blew her a kiss as the portrait hole swung shut behind them.

And then, silence.

Time slowed down.

Anna perched on a sofa near the fire, Hogwarts: A History open in her lap. She read about the castle’s enchanted staircases, trying to focus. She traced the words without really absorbing them, mind turning instead to uneasy questions: Could someone erase memories? Would anyone even know if they had? The thought made her close the book sharply, heart thudding.

Some time passed before the portrait hole creaked open.

“Blasted McGonagall,” Fred muttered, striding into the room. He flopped into a chair across from her, parchment dangling from his hand. “Homework on the first day. Tragic injustice.”

Anna tried to ignore him, still embarrassed about the pumpkin juice prank, but her eyes flicked up too often. Once, she caught him watching her over the top of his parchment. She quickly looked down, cheeks flushing.

After a moment, he spoke. “Anna, right? So, what’s your course load like? What classes are you taking?”

Anna blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… bit of everything, I guess?”

Fred nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds about right. You had Snape yet?”

“No, hopefully soon,” she said too quickly, instantly regretting it. The name sounded vaguely familiar to her.

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re funny, you know that?”

Anna forced a smile but her heart pounded so loud she was sure he could hear it.

His eyes flicked to her book. “Reading that for fun? Brave girl.”

Anna hesitated, then gathered her nerve. “Could you… maybe show me the library?”

Fred’s grin widened. “The library? Dangerous request. I’ve barely set foot in there, you know. Might ruin my reputation. But…” He tapped the arm of his chair. “I suppose I could make an exception for you.”

Her cheeks warmed at the way he said it.

⸻

The next morning, Fred kept his promise. He met her in the common room after breakfast, sauntering toward the portrait hole.

“Ready to have your life changed?” he asked solemnly.

“It’s just a library.”

“Just a library,” he repeated, mock-shocked. “You wound me.”

They slipped out of the portrait hole together, the corridor bustling with students heading to class. Anna walked a little faster than usual, nerves prickling. Any second he might ask her something—something she couldn’t answer.

Anna panicked and blurted out, “Is it just you and George or do you have siblings?”

That made him grin. “Seven of us, actually. Loudest household in Britain, I’d wager. Mum’s a saint for not hexing us all years ago.”

Anna relaxed a fraction. “Seven? That sounds… chaotic.”

“Chaotic’s one word for it,” Fred said with mock solemnity. “George and I are the best-looking, of course. Then there’s Percy, he’s the serious one. Bill and Charlie are out in the world being disgustingly successful. Ron, don’t ever tell him that he’s my favourite. And finally Ginny, one sister, and the youngest. Best to stay clear of her.”

She found herself smiling. “That must be nice. Having a big family.”

He glanced sideways at her, still smirking but softer this time. “Nice most of the time. Except when there’s only one slice of treacle tart left. Then it’s war.”

Anna laughed, her nerves easing as they reached the library doors.

The library was quiet and cool, shelves stretching high into the shadows. Anna drifted between rows until she stopped at a section on charms.

“I was hoping to find something on memory spells,” she said carefully.

Fred tilted his head, smirking. “Planning to make me forget all my best jokes?”

“Tempting,” she admitted, which only made him laugh.

Still, he helped her sort through the spines until he tugged free a heavy, leather-bound volume. “Here. Try not to drop it on your foot. Madam Pince may hex you if you damage the floor.”

Anna hugged the book to her chest, grateful, even as her pulse raced with nerves.

—

By Friday, Anna had grown restless. She slipped into the courtyard for fresh air, watching autumn leaves skitter across the flagstones.

Angelina was perched on the fountain, parchment balanced on her knees, chatting with Lee and Katie. They waved her over the moment they spotted her.

“Surviving your first week?” Lee asked cheerfully, flicking a quill into the air and catching it again.

“Barely,” Anna admitted, though their easy banter made her smile. She sat on the fountain’s edge, careful not to slip.

“Don’t worry,” Katie said, tugging Anna’s sleeve in reassurance. “By October, you’ll be running the place.”

“Or hiding under the table during Snape’s lectures,” Lee added with mock drama.

“That too,” Katie admitted with a laugh.

Fred arrived a few minutes later, dropping down beside Angelina with exaggerated flair, arms spread wide like he’d conquered the courtyard. “And here I thought our mysterious transfer would never leave the common room.”

Before Anna could answer, he turned to Katie with mock-serious charm. “Tell me, did you miss me while I was gone?” He draped a lazy arm over Katie’s shoulder.

Katie shoved him. “About as much as Filch misses Peeves.”

“Cruel,” Fred said, clutching his chest before flashing Anna a quick grin, as if to include her in the joke.

Anna rolled her eyes. “I needed fresh air.”

“Right,” Fred said, eyes glinting. “Fresh air, or a secret rendezvous?”

Katie groaned. “Ignore him, Anna. He thinks he’s funny.”

“I don’t think,” Fred said, smirking at Anna. “I know.”

Her laugh slipped out before she could stop it, which only encouraged him.

“So,” Fred went on, leaning back on his hands, “tell us the truth. Does Dunraven Academy even exist, or did you make it up just to meet me?”

Angelina swatted his arm. “Fred.”

“What?” he said innocently. “Perfectly valid question.”

Anna stammered for half a second, then found her footing. “It’s real enough. Small, though. You’d probably have set it on fire within a week.”

That earned her a cheer from Katie, who clapped her hands. “Well played.”

Fred raised his brows, pretending to be wounded. “Insulted by a transfer. Tragic.”

“Don’t pout,” Lee said with a grin. “She’s only saying what we’re all thinking.”

The group broke into laughter, and Anna laughed with them. For once, the sound didn’t feel forced. Sitting there on the fountain, listening to their voices echo off the stone walls, she felt, briefly, like she belonged.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four: Owls and Close Calls

Monday morning dawned, cool and rainy. Anna sat in her usual spot on the faded couch, scanning her book on memory charms. Fred sat down heavily in the armchair and flipped open a battered book, glancing at her.

“So,” he said, slamming his book shut, “either you’ve mastered time-turner magic, or you’re really skiving off class in style.”

Anna blinked, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth despite the pit of nerves in her stomach.
“And you’re in a History of Magic lecture right now, I suppose?”

“Absolutely. Mentally. In spirit.”

She laughed, soft and unexpected, though her heart still raced.

—
The next day, when she came down from the dormitory, Fred was already there.

This time, he was in the middle of the couch. Her couch.

She hesitated, panic flickering in her chest.

He didn’t say anything as she approached, just nodded toward the cushion beside him.

She swallowed and sat down.

Not touching. But not too far apart.

Anna didn’t bother with a book this time. Her eyes kept flicking toward his hands, which fidgeted nervously with a set of chess pieces on a roll-up board.

“Ever played wizard’s chess?” he asked.

She nodded, trying to keep her lie casual. “Sure, just once.”

He grinned. “Then prepare to be absolutely demolished.”

She raised a brow. “That confident?”

Fred set up the pieces, the little stone pawns shuffling themselves into place. The knight on his side yawned dramatically and thudded his sword into the board. Anna blinked but forced herself to keep her expression neutral.

He noticed.

“Right. You’re from that tiny school where all the chess pieces are, what’s the word, inanimate.”

“Terribly boring,” she replied, voice barely steady.

Fred watched her. “You really are a good liar.”

“I’ve had practice.”

He chuckled again and moved his first pawn forward. “Your move.”

The game went long.

Anna played cautiously at first, uncertain whether the enchanted pieces would follow her commands. But they did. Soon, she found herself focusing more on the strategy than the fact that her rook had just shoved Fred’s pawn off the board with a tiny roar.

She beat him in 32 moves.

Fred stared at the board, stunned.

The king flopped backward dramatically and muttered, “Not again…”

“You said I’d be demolished,” Anna said innocently.

He looked at her, eyes narrowing with theatrical suspicion. “I feel like I was hustled.”

She smiled. “Maybe I’m just a natural.”

Fred leaned closer, resting his elbows on his knees, studying her face.

“Or maybe,” he smiled, “you’re not quite what you seem.”

Her heart thudded in her chest, but she smiled back.

“Neither are you.”

They sat there for a moment in the quiet hum of the common room, the embers shifting in the fireplace. A beat of silence. Then—

“Rematch tomorrow?” he asked.

Anna nodded, her lips still curved. “You’ll lose again.”

Fred gave a mock-scowl and reached for the board. “I’ll be practicing.”

“Sure,” she said, rising to return the pieces to their pouch. “And I’ll just be here. On my special assignment.”

He laughed again, this time without any restraint.

That evening, Anna found herself in the Owlery with Alicia, clutching parchment and quill, nervously composing letters. The girls were not surprised when Anna had informed them of her intention to stay at Hogwarts beyond the week. Alicia had suggested a cover story sent via the schools owl delivery. Anna knew she had to be strategic, a letter to her mother saying she was extending her time at Aunt Martha’s and a letter to Aunt Martha, saying she’d decided to stay home. Then pray they don’t talk to each other.
She wasn’t sure how long she could keep that up before one, or both, would be suspicious.

“So I give them the letters and the owls just know?”

Alicia laughed, “It’s that simple. Oh, but don’t forget a treat.”
It was too late, the brown owl snapped at Anna’s outstretched fingers. “Ouch!”

“It’s wild that this is how you send your letters.” Anna watched the owl take off. “This place is unbelievable.”

Alicia was beside her, settling a sleek brown owl onto the perch. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Having a group you can just be with. No masks.”

Anna sighed softly. “Yeah. Everyone seems to belong here.”

Alicia glanced at her with a smile. “Well, we’re glad you’re here. I know you’re technically not a student, but you seem to fit.” She paused. “And you’ve really shaken up our little group…Fred especially.”

Anna’s cheeks flushed, and her stomach twisted. “Fred?”

“Yeah. He’s a big flirt,” Alicia said, grinning knowingly. “Don’t pay him much attention. It only feeds his ego. He spent half of last year convincing a Angelina to date him.”

“They dated?” Anna’s insides deflated.

“Goodness no, not really. Fred doesn’t date. He flirts and moves on.”

Anna blinked, confusion swirling. The feelings she’d harbored didn’t feel quite so mutual anymore.

“Angelina was ok with that?”

Alicia turned back, looking a little surprised. “Of course she was, she knows who he is. They’ve been friends since first year.”

Before she could say more, their attention was drawn to a short, squat figure approaching.

Professor Sprout smiled warmly as she neared. “Alicia, I wanted to remind you about the upcoming Herbology assignment. It’s due at the end of class. Thursday morning.”

She turned and looked at Anna, tilting her head. “And I don’t believe I’ve had you in one of my classes yet, dear. I’m very good with faces.”

Alicia’s smile tightened ever so slightly. “Oh, Professor, she’s got a heavy course load, no Herbology this year.”

“You’ve got a knack for Herbology, I can see it on your face. I’m never wrong about this.”

Professor Sprout’s eyes lingered on Anna a moment longer, curiosity flickering, but Alicia stepped forward smoothly.

“Well, we’d better get going. Thanks for the reminder.”

With a polite nod to Anna, Alicia hurried away, dragging Anna with her.

Anna’s heart thumped, half from the professor’s attention, half from the lie-filled letters that had just taken flight.

——-

It was early morning, and Anna sat curled on the edge of the Gryffindor common room sofa, arms folded, staring into the fire. Angelina and Alicia lingered nearby, watching her with the kind of nervous concern usually reserved for friends about to do something reckless.

“I’ve been thinking,” Anna said finally. “Maybe I should go to class today.”

Alicia blinked. “Class? As in—sit down with a professor and thirty people who actually belong there?”

Anna gave a wry smile. “When you put it like that, it sounds insane. But… the more I hide in here, the more I stand out. Everyone else is busy, and I’m just—sitting around. People will notice.”

Angelina frowned, arms crossing. “But it’s risky. Teachers take attendance. They’ll expect you to know things. One slip—”

“I know,” Anna cut in, her voice softer. “But hiding feels worse. At least if I’m in class, I can blend into the background. Just another face in the crowd.”

Alicia twirled a strand of her hair, hesitating. “It could work. If you keep your head down. Charms, Care of Magical Creatures or History of Magic could work.”

“Don’t try Transfiguration or Potions,” Angelina warned. “McGonagall or Snape would spot you in an instant.”

Anna nodded firmly, though her stomach churned. “Exactly. No questions, no attention. Just enough to look like I belong.”

Angelina exchanged a look with Alicia, still unconvinced. “You’re braver than I’d be.”

Anna gave a weak laugh. “Not brave. Just tired of feeling like a shadow.”

—

The History of Magic classroom was dimly lit, the ancient portraits and dusty tomes lining the walls lending an air of solemnity. Anna settled into the back row, clutching her borrowed robes tightly.

Angelina slid into the seat beside her, whispering rapidly. “Quick crash course: Goblin Rebellions weren’t just about gold. It was about rights, goblin independence and their treatment by wizards.”

Anna tried to soak it in, nodding as Professor Binns’ ghostly form droned on.

Suddenly, Binns fixed his hollow gaze toward the back.

“Who can explain the primary cause of the Goblin Revolution of 1612? You, at the back.”
His translucent eyes lingered on her.

Anna froze, all eyes seeming to turn her way.

Angelina whispered sharply behind her hand, “It’s the unfair seizure of goblin-made artifacts by wizard nobles.”

Anna barely had time to process before Angelina answered confidently.

“The primary cause was the seizure of goblin-crafted items, violating their rights and sparking unrest.”

Binns nodded once, a rare smile flickering. “Correct. Very good.”

From across the room, a pair of familiar twin smirks emerged.

“Oi, Fred,” George muttered. “Think Angelina’s charging for tutoring?”

Fred snorted. “If so, she’s buying us a lifetime supply of Butterbeer.”

Anna’s gaze flicked away, telling herself he was just being his usual charming self. Nothing personal. Just Fred.

—

Charms class buzzed with anticipation as Professor Flitwick handed out quizzes.

“Right, everyone, there should be enough for all—”

His voice trailed off, realizing one short.

“Ah. Well, I could have sworn there were enough.” He conjured up another quiz with a simple flick of his wand.

Anna’s heart sank.

The room scribbled quietly. Anna guessed her answers, refusing to look around, and left the name line blank.

“I’d like to go around the room and do a review of the charms we studied last year. Demonstrate one for the class. Any charm will do.” A flood of panic hit Anna’s chest. Her fingers touched the stick in her pocket. It wasn’t a wand; couldn’t even pass for a wand. A stick.

Alicia was up first. She confidently spoke an incantation and levitated Flitwick’s desk. It wobbled precariously, then crashed spectacularly, scattering parchment, quills, and books everywhere.

“Oh dear!” Flitwick exclaimed, startled but amused. “Not quite what I had in mind Miss Spinnet!”

The classroom erupted in chaos and laughter.

Taking advantage, Alicia gave Anna a sly nod. “Get out of here.”

Fred glanced over, just as Anna slipped out quietly, her cheeks flushed and heart racing.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five: A Bit of Adventure

Autumn wrapped Hogwarts in a golden glow, making the common room feel extra cozy. Afternoon shadows stretched across the worn carpet, the fire crackling softly nearby. Anna sat at a small table in the corner, flipping lazily through one of Angelina’s magazines. Angelina, Alicia and Katie sat with her, chatting happily about their weekend plans. Around her, the room hummed with life—clusters of students chatting, bursts of laughter, and the comforting murmur of a busy common room.

From the corner, Percy’s voice carried as he entered on patrol, scanning the room with a prefect’s sharp gaze. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie instinctively shifted their chairs, their chatter turning louder—blocking Anna from his direct line of sight. She kept her eyes on the magazine, heart tapping faster, until Percy moved on without pause. Fred dropped onto the couch nearby, his eyes briefly flicking toward Anna. He blinked and looked away, pretending to read the chocolate frog card in his hand.

Lee hollered from across the room, “Hey, George, how did you find that Transfiguration homework?”

Anna barely glanced toward him and said smoothly, “That’s Fred.”

At the exact same moment, he replied, “I’m Fred.”

He paused, leaning forward slightly to really look at her, not with the usual teasing grin, but with quiet surprise and something softer, maybe even a touch of admiration.

“Blimey,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “How do you know?”

Anna shrugged, turning a page in the magazine like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Easy.”

Fred’s half-smile deepened. “Even my mum struggles with that.”

She smirked, tilting her head and meeting his eyes. “One of you is better looking.”

Fred’s laughter faded into a soft chuckle as his cheeks flushed a bright shade of red, the color spreading quickly to his neck. He scratched the back of his head, clearly caught off guard. Anna’s eyes flickered with delight. She really enjoyed this, the rare, genuine blush on Fred’s usually confident face made her heart skip. It was like seeing a secret side of him that only she got to witness.

He shook his head, still smiling, but his ears were unmistakably pink.

Anna’s eyes twinkled, but she gave nothing more away.

She turned a page, pretending to read, while her mind replayed the narrow escape. Percy’s gaze had been casual, but one wrong angle and he might have recognized she didn’t belong here. Fred had been sitting right there, oblivious. Safer that way.

Angelina shifted in her seat, eyes shifting between Fred and Anna with a tight smile. A flicker of something, like old frustration, crossed her face before she masked it with a laugh and redirected the conversation.

⸻

Later, outside the castle, the air was crisp and bright, the kind of golden afternoon that made Hogwarts seem almost dreamlike. Anna kept her head down as she strolled along the gravel path behind the greenhouses, hands tucked into the sleeves of her borrowed cloak. Her fingers would often wrap around her fake wand, which gave her an odd source of comfort. Spending the day hidden in the common room felt safer. Someone was bound to ask questions if she lingered too long in plain sight. But being outside, exposed in a different way, made her feel even more vulnerable. At least inside, she could disappear into the crowd. Out here, there was no buffer, just open air and the chance someone might actually look at her for more than a second.

She rounded the corner near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, eyes flicking nervously behind her, and nearly collided with someone.

“Oof—watch where you’re going, Foster,” came a familiar voice, teasing and warm.

Anna’s head snapped up, heart skipping.

Fred was there, only he wasn’t alone. A pretty girl with curly brown hair and bright eyes clutched a book in one hand and laughed at something Fred said. The sound of the girl’s laugh made Anna’s stomach twist.

The girl glanced down at her book. “I have to get this back to the library before it closes. See you later.”

Fred grinned as if he hadn’t noticed Anna’s hesitation. “Blimey, you planning to walk straight through us?”

Anna blinked, startled. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“Clearly,” George said from just behind Fred, rubbing his shoulder dramatically. “Might need a hospital wing visit. Think I dislocated something.”

Fred nudged him. “You’ll live.”

Anna’s lips twitched despite herself, but her heart still felt like it was sinking.

“You two always just hang around near the forest?”

“Not always,” Fred said, cocking his head. “But it’s far enough from prying eyes.”

He looked up at the sky, then back to her, the easy smile faltering just a little. For a fleeting second, his gaze sharpened as if he was about to say something, but then he shook his head and let it drop.

“Honestly, it’s way too nice of a day to be stuck at Hogwarts. Fancy a bit of adventure?”

Anna hesitated, the knot in her chest tightening. An adventure? With him? The thought should have been thrilling, but instead it felt dangerous—like walking a tightrope over a pit. And then there was the other girl.

“What kind of adventure?”

Fred leaned closer, his voice conspiratorial. “Ever been to Hogsmeade?”

She blinked. “No. Where is that?”

George gave a quiet snort, clearly amused.

Fred ignored him. “It’s only the best little village in all of Scotland. And conveniently connected to Hogwarts through a few, shall we say, lesser-known hallways.”

Anna looked startled. “You want me to sneak out of the castle with you?”

Fred put a hand to his heart. “I would never use such a word. I prefer tactically avoiding detection.”

She bit her lip, thoughts racing. What if someone catches me? What if they realize I’m not really a student? She thought of Alicia’s warning about being ‘that girl’—invisible, suspicious..

“Isn’t it risky? What if someone catches us?”

Fred laughed, a low, easy sound. “Risk is the whole point, Anna. I live for it.”

She wanted to argue the danger of drawing attention, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she swallowed hard and looked away for a moment.

“It’s Friday afternoon, the rest of the students will be free to go in a few hours anyway. We just get a head start.”

Anna hesitated a moment longer, heart hammering. She didn’t want to miss out on her only chance to see the village.

Then she nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” George called as Fred turned to lead the way.

Fred grinned back over his shoulder. “Good advice, but I’m aiming to raise the bar a bit.”

⸻

Fred led her to a small, nearly hidden door tucked behind an overgrown bush. He pushed it open and stepped through, glancing back to make sure Anna was following.

The passage was narrow and dim, the cool stone walls closing in around them as they descended a few steps into the Honeydukes cellar.

The sweet smell of sugar and warm chocolate filled the air, but tension crept in as the faint sound of footsteps echoed from above.

Anna froze, heart pounding.

Ahead, the shopkeeper was moving quietly through the cellar, putting away crates and stacking supplies.

Her sharp eyes swept the room, and Anna instinctively pressed herself flat against the wall, barely daring to breathe.

Her palms were damp against the cool stone. All it would take was one person asking the wrong question. One detention where they asked her for her name.

Fred whispered, “Stay still. Almost there.”

The shopkeeper paused nearby, then turned away, footsteps fading as she went back upstairs.

Anna exhaled slowly, and they hurried forward, stepping into the dazzling Honeydukes shop packed with sweets of every color and kind.

Anna’s eyes went wide.

“This is incredible.”

Fred watched her with a crooked smile. “Thought you might like it.”

She wandered the aisles like a child in a dream, her fingers trailing over sherbet balls and jars of fizzing rock candy. Every time she gasped or laughed at a new discovery, Fred seemed to light up just watching her.

They bought more than either of them could carry comfortably. Fred insisted on trying everything Anna pointed at. They made their way up the street toward a cozy-looking pub.

Inside the Three Broomsticks, it was warm and bustling. Fred ordered two butterbeers and they claimed a wooden booth near the back, away from the windows. Anna took a sip and sighed, eyes closing.

“Oh. That’s really good.”

Fred rested his chin on his hand, just watching her for a moment. “Boy, you’re easy to please.”

“Well, I’ve never tasted anything like this,” she admitted. “I didn’t even know this place existed yesterday.”

“I keep forgetting,” he said more softly now. “That all of this is still new for you. Didn’t they have magical villages or butterbeer up north?”

She shook her head.

“You can enjoy it now,” Fred said, tapping her mug with his. “You’re here at Hogwarts. And you snuck out of a castle with me. That makes you officially part of the Weasley legacy.”

Anna smiled but felt a pang of doubt. Alicia’s words of warning echoed in her mind.

Before she could voice the thought, she asked, “Do you ever worry about what might happen if we get caught?”

Fred shrugged with a grin. “Maybe. But that’s part of the fun. Besides, I’ve been sneaking out for years. You get used to it. What’s the worst that can happen? Detention?”

Anna didn’t say anything else, but the weight of it pressed on her. Detention, for her the risks were far higher. Her very memories of this place, of him, were at stake.

Then the door to the pub opened and in walked Professor Sprout with several other professors Anna didn’t recognize.

Anna’s heart skipped. She immediately turned her head, fingers tightening around her butterbeer.

Fred noticed her unease and gave a quick, reassuring smile.

It was too late. Sprout leaned toward Trelawney and murmured something. The Divination professor’s eyes widened behind her enormous spectacles, and she peered straight at Anna.

“Oh, my dear,” Trelawney said, her voice floating across the space between them. “There’s an aura about that one. Strong… and oddly out of place. A late bloom, if I’ve ever seen one.”

Sprout’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile, but she said nothing. As they passed Anna’s table, she slowed, her gaze lingering.

Anna’s cheeks warmed. Her friends could talk their way out of trouble; she wasn’t so sure she could. Every second of Sprout’s kind smile felt like it could turn into something sharper.

“Well, it’s quite the lovely day, isn’t it?” she said with a smile.

Anna nodded, trying to appear casual, though inside she was sure the professor was suspicious.

Before Sprout could say anything else, the door opened again and Lee, Angelina and Alicia came in, laughing and chatting.

Lee made a beeline for their table, eyes sparkling. “Are we interrupting something?”

Fred leaned back with a grin, waving his hand. “Not at all. And just to be clear—we’re definitely not on a date.”

Angelina forced a laugh as she slid in beside Fred. Anna couldn’t help but notice the way Angelina subtly brushed against his arm.

Alicia moved into the booth beside Anna without missing a beat, shooting Anna a small, encouraging smile. Anna returned the smile half-heartedly, feeling entirely defeated.

“Do you guys remember last year when Fred nearly lit Snape’s desk on fire with that exploding cauldron?” Angelina said, almost too loudly. The group exploded with laughter. She glanced over at Anna with a forced smile. “Sorry, you weren’t there, but it was hilarious.”

“Oh yeah, my finest work. Earned me a week’s detention.” Fred laughed in that easy way that made Anna’s heart beat faster. He glanced at her, “Remind me to recreate it for you, Anna. Maybe without Snape this time.”

It had felt like a date to Anna. Apparently to Fred Weasley, this was business as usual.

——-
Later, back in the common room, Anna sat curled up on the couch, absently flipping through a magazine.

Angelina dropped into the seat beside her, close enough that Anna could smell the faint hint of peppermint on her breath. Her tone was light, but her eyes were calculating.

“You and Fred seem to be getting close. He usually has his hands full with other things.”

Anna glanced up, caught off guard.
“Oh?”

Angelina smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. He gets bored fast. Always chasing the next laugh, the next adventure, the next girl that catches his eye.”

Anna felt a small knot tighten in her chest.
“Oh, I didn’t think—”

“Don’t think too much about it,” Angelina interrupted smoothly, her gaze flicking toward the boys’ staircase as if expecting Fred to appear. “He’s fun, but that’s all it is. Fun. Just don’t let it go to your head. Anyway, off to Quidditch practice.”

She stood, stretching like the conversation meant nothing, and walked away, leaving Anna with a faint chill despite the fire crackling nearby.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six: The Quiet Between Us

It was almost midnight and the common room was empty, the fire crackling low in the hearth. Anna sat curled in one of the armchairs, a book open in her lap but long forgotten. Her new friends were still at Quidditch practice, but she declined the invitation to watch. There had been far too many near misses in the last few days. Just yesterday in the library, she’d had to duck behind a stack of Herbology manuals when Madam Pince’s brow furrowed at her unfamiliar face. It was getting harder to stay invisible.

Tears streamed quietly down her cheeks, a tangled mix of happiness, fear, and confusion weighing heavy on her chest. She hadn’t meant to cry, but the emotions she’d been holding all day spilled free now that the room had grown still. She wished she could just call her mum.

It had been a good day, warm and filled with laughter, but the ache beneath it all was undeniable. The fear of being caught, the uncertainty of her feelings for Fred, his feeling for her, and the fragility of this borrowed life.

The portrait hole creaked open behind her. She didn’t turn right away.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice, softer than usual. “Didn’t think anyone would still be up.”

Anna looked up. Fred. His hair was tousled and windblown, his broom slung casually over his shoulder. He looked like he always did, comfortable, easy, like he belonged here. He smiled, and for a moment, she forgot everything else.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Fred nodded and started toward the boys’ dorm, but then he hesitated. She could feel his gaze linger on her. He turned back.

“Everything alright?”

Her mind scrambled for a safe answer. He couldn’t know about the stares in the corridors, or the way Alicia had quietly positioned herself between Anna and Filch earlier that afternoon.

Anna shook her head slightly, wiping her cheeks hastily. “I’m fine. Just… tired.”

He didn’t look convinced. Instead of heading upstairs, he quietly leaned his broom against the wall and walked over. He sat down on the edge of the couch beside her.

He cleared his throat and tried to lighten the mood. “You know, if you keep crying like that, the Sorting Hat might just put you in Hufflepuff for being a big softie.” He chuckled softly, but the joke hung awkwardly in the air.

Anna forced a small smile but didn’t laugh. The words didn’t quite reach her.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his grin faltering for a moment before he looked back at the fire. “Bad joke. Sorry.”

She kept her eyes on the dancing flames. The warm glow did little to thaw the cold knot tightening in her chest.

Her fingers clenched the edge of the book, the leather soft beneath her touch.

The thought of what she could lose made her throat ache. Better to keep Fred smiling and unsuspecting, to stay just another girl in the common room, not a secret waiting to be discovered.

“Ever feel like something, somewhere is too good to be true? I’m happy here, I don’t want to leave.”

Fred shifted closer, the heat from his presence wrapping around her like a hesitant promise.

“I’m glad you’re staying,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.

That simple sentence echoed inside her head, louder than the crackling fire.

She swallowed hard, the flutter of hope battling with the sting of doubt.

The space between them felt charged, electric but fragile, like a glass waiting to be cracked.

For a moment, their eyes met, and she thought she saw something there—something more.

But then she pulled back gently, guarding the fragile pieces of her heart. Angelina’s words still ringing in her ears. He gets bored fast. Don’t let it go to your head.

“You’d better get to bed,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the pounding in her chest. “You’ll need all the sleep you can get if you’re going to beat me at wizard’s chess tomorrow.”

Fred grinned, though his eyes held a question she didn’t answer. “I could beat you with my eyes closed.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You wish.”

He stood and stretched, lingering for a moment as if he wanted to say more. The firelight flickered across his face, casting long shadows across the room.

“Goodnight, Anna,” he said.

“Goodnight, Fred.”

He disappeared up the stairs, and the common room fell quiet again.

Anna stayed there a while longer, watching the flames dance, the book forgotten on her lap. Even with the ache still in her chest, his voice lingered in her mind.

I’m glad you’re staying.

She wished it could be that simple.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven: Behind the Tapestry

Morning light spilled unevenly through the tall windows of the common room, catching dust motes that drifted like tiny ghosts in the still air. The fire’s embers glowed low, casting long shadows across the worn stone floor. Around them, sleepy whispers and quiet footsteps echoed, yet Anna and Fred sat close, anchored in their usual spot, in the middle of a game of wizards chess. The easy banter between them felt fragile, as if it might shatter with the faintest breath.

The portrait door swung open, and a fifth-year girl hurried in, excitement sparking in her eyes. She made a beeline for her friends in the corner, bending close as if unable to hold back news that pressed at her lips.

“I overheard Sprout telling McGonagall about that student who’s been acting strange. It’s an older student and she’s never had her in any class. Isn’t that weird? Someone who doesn’t quite belong here.”

She added quietly, “McGonagall’s on her way now to check the Gryffindor common room.”

Anna froze. Sprout was suspicious. There was no way she could stand up to any questioning, especially from a teacher.

Her breath caught when she heard heavy footsteps echoing down the hall—the unmistakable click of McGonagall’s heels approaching.

She turned sharply to Fred, voice a trembling whisper, “I have to hide. Now.”

Fred’s eyes flicked to the portrait hole, then back to her face, and something in her expression must have told him enough. His playful grin vanished, replaced by sharp focus. “Follow me.”

There was no time to think. He rose quickly, guiding her toward a narrow side hallway just off the common room, a place students rarely bothered with this early in the morning. Tucked around the corner, half-lost in shadows, hung an old, faded tapestry most people passed without noticing.

With one quick glance to make sure the hall was clear, he pulled the heavy cloth aside, revealing a narrow, cramped alcove.

It was completely dark, and barely space for the two of them. She could hear a muffled voice speaking sharply on the other side of the tapestry.

The cold brick walls pressed close on every side, rough and unyielding beneath her fingertips. Fred’s hands slid to her waist, to steady her and himself.

Anna’s back met the cold stone with a shiver that the warmth of Fred’s hands on her waist couldn’t chase away.

His touch was firm, grounding, but her heart pounded wildly.

Her thoughts spun, breath catching. If she was caught, this was over. She couldn’t pretend it was an accident anymore, she’d been at the school too long. What would they do? Erase her memory in front of everyone? Anna exhaled, trying to remain calm and quiet.

There was no room to move, no space between them. Their noses grazed. She could smell the faint warmth of him, clean, a trace of woodsmoke and something just his own.

The muffled voices and footsteps faded.

Fred nudged her gently, a crooked grin in his voice. “You know, if I’m going to keep charging for use of my secret passages, you might want to start paying up.”

She forced a small laugh, tension twisting tight in her chest.

His voice softened, serious beneath the teasing. “You okay?”

Words tangled in her throat, stuck between fear and hope and something she wasn’t ready to admit.

She nodded, barely.

Fred leaned in slowly, hands steady on her waist, heat radiating between them melting the chill of the stone.

His breath brushed her cheek.

He smirked, voice low and teasing. “If anyone finds us here, they’ll just assume we’ve been snogging.”

Anna looked up, meeting his eyes in the dark, her lips curving slowly. “Would that be so bad?”

Her heart hammered, she was pretty sure he could hear it.

Fred’s eyes flickered with something softer, more serious, before he closed the last few inches.

Their lips met, slow at first, delicate, like a breath, but then deeper, urgent, the hunger and longing they’d both been holding back rising fast, overwhelming.

Her hand slid up to the side of his face, fingers tangling in his hair before she even realized she’d moved. He pulled her closer, closing what little space was left.

When they finally parted, breathless and flushed, Fred chuckled, breaking the spell.

“Well, that’s one way to make a hiding spot unforgettable.”

Anna smiled, warmth blooming despite the cold brick behind her.

He gave her one last serious look, voice low. “Anna…why are we hiding from McGonagall?”

She paused, voice barely a whisper. “I don’t belong here.”

His grip on her waist tightened slightly. “Sure you do.”

“No, I really don’t,” she paused, but there was no way around it now. “I’m a Muggle. I shouldn’t be here.”

Fred’s grin softened, filled with something like awe.

“That’s impossible.”

She shook her head, heart still pounding. “I was at King’s Cross on my way to my aunt’s and I ended up here. Angelina, Katie and Alicia know, they’ve been helping me.”

Fred’s brow furrowed. “No, that’s really not possible.” He frowned thoughtfully.
“There are magical barriers. I’ll ask my dad—he works for the Ministry—”

“No! You can’t tell anyone!” Anna burst out.

“Okay,” Fred paused. “Merlin, Anna—you’re a Muggle in Hogwarts. That’s bloody brilliant.”

His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, gentle and grounding.

“Are you sure no one else knows? Because if they do… we could all be in real trouble.”

“No one,” Anna shook her head. “There have been a few close calls, and now I think some of the professors are suspicious.”

“You’ve been hiding this the whole time? That’s reckless… but brave. I like it.”

Anna swallowed hard. “You’re not angry?”

“Angry? Please. If this ever gets out George is going to be gutted when he finds out I knew first. And besides…” Fred leaned in with a mischievous tinkle in his eye. “I’ve always wanted a Muggle partner-in-crime.”

Anna let out a shaky laugh.

“It’s ok,” he said quietly, “I’ve got you. You can trust me.”

Anna wanted to believe him. But Fred wore danger like a second skin, and somewhere beneath the flutter of her heart, fear stirred. His father worked for the very people who could make her vanish without a trace.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight: Secrets, Stares, and Quidditch

The next morning at breakfast, Anna wasn’t sure what the kiss meant. If it had changed everything—or nothing at all. Her heart still fluttered unpredictably as she sat across from Fred, trying to focus on her eggs and toast.

Then, unmistakably, his hand brushed against hers under the table.

The touch was deliberate and lingering, sending a warm spark through her that she couldn’t ignore. She swallowed hard, cheeks flaming as she looked down at her plate, determined not to let him see.

But she could tell he noticed.

His lips curved into a knowing smile, eyes gleaming with mischief and something softer beneath. He seemed to enjoy making her blush.

Anna forced herself to eat, though her appetite had fled. She tried to focus on Angelina’s animated story, something about last week’s quidditch practice, but her mind was locked on what was happening under the table. Angelina continued, her gaze kept moving between Anna and Fred as she spoke. Her eyes narrowed as she continued.

Fred’s hand stayed a moment longer, fingers lightly tracing hers, before he withdrew it casually as if nothing had happened.
Anna let out a shaky breath. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

Angelina clapped her hands together, breaking Anna from her flustered thoughts. “Alright, team,” she said, voice bright but edged with authority, “before our match against Hufflepuff this morning, we’re going to run through a quick practice on the pitch. We’ve got an hour. Everyone, gather your brooms.”

Lee and George erupted in identical groans while the rest of the team laughed. Angelina rolled her eyes and the team slowly filed out of the Great Hall.

Anna hurried down the corridor, trying to shake off the lingering heat from breakfast—Fred’s hand brushing hers, the mischievous glint in his eyes. She was still telling herself it was just a game, just Fred being Fred.

“Hey!” a familiar voice called from behind.

Anna glanced back to see Fred, hands in his pockets, jogging to catch up. “You’re going to be late for the practice,” she said, frowning.

Fred grinned, leaning against the wall casually. “Ah, practice can wait. Some things are more important.” He gave her a teasing look. “Besides, I told Angelina I needed to grab my good luck charm.”

Anna raised an eyebrow but said nothing, feeling a little thrill that he was following her.

“Anyway,” Fred continued, “are you planning to watch the match?”

“Yes,” Anna said quickly. “Of course I’ll be there.”

“Good,” he said, lowering his voice. “Wouldn’t want the Muggle in the stands to get bored, now would we?”

Anna flushed, looking around the deserted corridor to ensure they were alone. “I’ll survive,” she muttered, trying to sound nonchalant.

Fred chuckled, clearly enjoying her reaction. Then, in a quieter tone, he asked, “So… breakfast seemed to leave you… distracted. Something on your mind?”

Anna hesitated, heart racing. “I think it’s best that we keep what happened yesterday between us,” she said finally, keeping her voice low.

Fred blinked, caught off guard. “Between us?”

“Yes,” she said firmly, cheeks warming. “No one should know. It’s safer for us both.”

Fred’s grin softened just slightly, though he quickly masked it with his usual teasing. “I think you should refresh my memory. Just in case.”

Her stomach flipped as the words hung between them. He leaned closer, their faces inches apart, a tension crackling that made her knees weak. She opened her mouth, ready to respond—but suddenly, laughter and voices echoed down the corridor.

Fred chuckled softly, stepping back with a resigned grin. “Guess we’ll save that for later.”

Anna nodded, forcing a small smile. “Can you meet me in the common room tonight? After everyone’s in bed?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, eyes sparkling, before running off toward the pitch with the rest of the team.

—

The stands buzzed with excitement as the Gryffindor team took the field, brooms gleaming in the morning sun. Anna perched on the edge of the wooden benches, broomstick-less but fully invested, eyes scanning the players as they darted through the sky.

Fred, in his team robes, crouched on the pitch near the starting line, directing a teammate, his usual grin in place. But every so often, his gaze flicked toward the stands. Not at the other students, not at the match—at her.

Anna caught him glancing once, then again, and quickly looked down, cheeks warming. He winked, almost imperceptibly, before focusing on the game again.

The roar of the crowd echoed across the pitch as the final whistle blew. Gryffindor had won, the snitch caught, the team cheering, victory echoing in every corner of the stadium. Anna clapped and laughed with the other spectators, but her eyes kept flicking toward Fred.

He was laughing with his teammates, tossing a broomstick lightly between his hands, but she noticed the way his gaze drifted toward the stands every few moments. When their eyes met, he gave her a small, mischievous grin that made her chest flutter.

He seemed distracted. More than usual. She told herself it didn’t mean anything. After all, he’s Fred Weasley. He flirts with everyone.

Still, every glance made her pulse quicken, and for the first time, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as casual as he seemed.

Later, back in the Gryffindor common room, the group had gathered. Angelina, Katie, Lee, Alicia, and George were sprawled between the couch and floor, chatting and laughing late into the evening. Fred and Anna lingered near the fireplace, stealing glances when the others weren’t looking.

Lee suggested, “Exploding Snap, anyone?”

Cards flew across the table, sparks popping as players competed. Fred’s hand brushed Anna’s more than once when she reached to move a card. Each touch lingered a heartbeat too long, sending shivers down her spine. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Eventually, the others yawned and shuffled off to bed, leaving Fred and Anna alone. The common room seemed to exhale around them, quiet except for the soft crackle of the fire. They sat side by side on the couch, close enough to feel each other’s warmth.

Fred broke the silence with a crooked grin, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “You know… I might’ve flown better if you hadn’t been watching me the whole time.”

Anna’s cheeks warmed. “I wasn’t watching you the whole time.”

He leaned a little closer, his voice dipping. “No? Funny, because every time I looked up you were.”

Anna laughed under her breath, shaking her head. “You’re imagining things.”

“Maybe,” he said, his fingers brushing hers on the couch. “But I like imagining things.”

The touch lingered a heartbeat too long, and Anna felt a shiver run through her. She caught her breath, and he tilted his head, studying her as if trying to read the racing thoughts she couldn’t hide.

For a moment, neither moved. The fire crackled, throwing shadows across the room. Anna’s heart pounded in her chest, loud enough, she was sure, for him to hear.

Fred’s grin lingered. “Honestly, you’re making this year a lot more interesting than it should be.”

Anna swallowed, nerves and something else twisting together in her stomach. She leaned imperceptibly closer. Fred mirrored her, just a breath away. His hand inched along hers, fingers intertwining with hers, grounding them both.

Her lips hovered near his, and she paused, letting the moment stretch, savoring the tension. She could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he whispered, “Are you sure about this?”

She nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly, and finally closed the distance. Their lips met in a slow, tentative kiss—careful at first, testing, savoring the moment. It deepened gradually, a gentle urgency building, their hands finding each other, gripping just enough to hold on.

When they pulled back, foreheads pressed together, Anna’s heart was racing and her cheeks were flushed. “We… we can’t tell anyone,” she murmured, though the words sounded like they weren’t quite warnings, they were acknowledgments of what mattered most.

Fred nodded. “I know,” he whispered softly.

Anna swallowed, steadying her racing heart. “Goodnight, Fred,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Goodnight, Anna,” he replied, a faint smile lingering on his lips.

They rose from the couch, lingering just a heartbeat longer before heading in opposite directions toward their dormitories. The fire crackled low behind them, the memory of their shared moment lingering in the quiet room. Alone in their own spaces, the warmth of the evening stayed with them—soft, electric, and impossibly new.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine: By Day, By Night

By day, it was all strategy.

They had learned to weave their lives around each other without anyone noticing, to move in tandem through the rhythms of Hogwarts as though nothing had changed. Anna’s presence had become an invisible thread through Fred’s days, and hers seemed to pulse in anticipation of him. Even small gestures, his fingers brushing hers beneath the table at meals, the quiet press of her knee against his under the chessboard, were enough to make her stomach flip and her cheeks warm.

At times they kept distance, or argued, to cover their secret. One afternoon, during a particularly heated game of wizard’s chess, Anna whispered, “I’m almost convinced the girls sense something.”

Fred leaned back, chin resting on his hand, and with perfect timing loudly declared to the common room, “She’s got a massive, all-consuming crush on Hagrid.”

Anna nearly choked on her buttered scone. “What?!”

He waved one hand dramatically. “She fancies his beard. Said it reminds her of cloud formations and courage.”

George snorted from across the room. “Poor bloke’s got no chance.”

“You’re right,” Fred sighed, throwing himself back in his chair. “Anna’s heart belongs to magical creatures and men who raise them.”

Anna responded instinctively, hurling a pillow at him, but the laugh that escaped her was impossible to contain, and the blush on her cheeks only made her more human in his eyes. Only Fred could turn misdirection into an art form, and he wielded it effortlessly.

⸻

They became experts at secrecy.

At breakfast, Fred would trail his fingers along hers just enough for her to feel it, and she would squeeze his hand beneath the table, careful to let nothing show. At night, they lingered in the common room under the guise of studying or finishing a game. Alicia once asked why Anna kept losing at Exploding Snap, and Fred’s explanation was seamless: “She’s distracted. Thinking about hippogriffs again.”

Angelina rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“Blame Hagrid,” Fred replied smoothly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

The days passed in a blur of lessons, homework, and careful observation. Anna kept one eye on Fred, noting the small ways he lingered near her, the subtle glances he cast when he thought she wasn’t looking. And yet, there were reminders that he was still Fred Weasley—charismatic, teasing, infuriatingly charming.

As they crossed the Great Hall after Charms, Anna noticed a Ravenclaw girl from the sixth year standing nearby, cheeks flushed and fingers nervously twisting a strand of hair as she tried to catch Fred’s attention.

“I swear, Fred Weasley could charm anyone,” Alicia muttered to Katie and Anna as they passed by, nodding toward him.

Anna felt her stomach twist and heat rise to her cheeks. Fred was laughing at something the girl had said, his grin effortlessly drawing her in, and Anna could see the flush spreading across the Ravenclaw’s face.

He’s still a flirt. Anna reminded herself, though the memory of last night’s quiet kisses lingered in her mind. She had to believe it was different with her.

Some nights they were the last to leave the common room. Fred claimed he needed to draw up Quidditch plays. Anna said she had gotten to an interesting chapter in Hogwarts: A History. And sometimes it worked perfectly; the castle emptied, leaving them to curl up quietly in the shadows. Other nights, their friends would linger, and their goodbyes were quick, awkward, and filled with the electricity of what might have been.

When the common room fell silent, when everyone else had retired to the dormitories, their restraint melted away. There was no awkward fumbling, no stammered confessions, only quiet desperation and shared smiles between kisses. Fred’s hands threaded through Anna’s hair; her fingers curled into the front of his jumper. Every touch was a conversation, every glance an unspoken agreement. Anna tried to guard her heart, reminding herself that he was a flirt, but then he would smile at her and she’d forget.

They marked their time together with small rituals. On the couch, she would rest against him with his arm slung casually around her shoulders. On the floor, backs pressed to the hearth, they whispered jokes, shared secrets, and let fleeting touches linger. Their lips met in small, careful kisses at first—testing the waters, learning one another’s rhythms—before gradually deepening, hungry but measured, a careful balance between caution and the thrill of what could be lost.

Weeks passed, each day folding into the next with the quiet certainty of their stolen moments. They had learned each other’s habits, the way their hands fit together, the precise tilt of heads that promised another kiss. Even the mundane became extraordinary: sharing buttered toast in the Great Hall, passing notes in class, brushing sleeves as they walked through crowded corridors.

Fred’s distractions became subtle but unmistakable. He would pause mid-conversation, gaze drifting toward her, or swing his bat a fraction too late, only to recover in time to avoid disaster. Anna would watch from across the room, heart thudding, knowing he had noticed her noticing him. It was a delicate dance, one they both learned to perform flawlessly.

At night, the common room became their sanctuary. They spent hours curled together, whispering about the day, the classes, the smallest victories and defeats, letting the warmth of the fire and each other chase away the cold of the castle. Each kiss carried more weight than the last, soft and reverent at first, then gradually bolder as trust grew. Their hands traced familiar paths over shoulders and waists, the subtle heat between them a tether against the danger that always lurked.

Even as weeks passed, the threat of discovery lingered like a shadow. Each step was calculated, each glance measured. They moved like secret agents in a world that knew nothing of them. Anna didn’t know how long it would last, or if Fred would suddenly move on, but she couldn’t stay away.

Then one night, as the moonlight spilled across the floor and the fire crackled low, Anna pressed herself against him on the couch, the quiet of the common room wrapping around them. Fred leaned close, his grin sharp with mischief, and their eyes locked—breath mingling, hearts pounding.

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, the tension stretching taut, until he tilted his head and captured her lips with his own. The kiss was urgent, reckless even, pressing her back against the cushions, his hands gripping her waist to keep her close. Anna’s fingers clutched the front of his jumper, her pulse racing as their lips moved in a desperate, heated rhythm, exploring, claiming, needing.

Every sense was heightened—the warmth of his body, the rough texture of the couch beneath her, the scent of him, the thrill of doing something so forbidden. The danger only sharpened the intensity, and for a heartbeat, the world outside didn’t exist.

And then—creak.

The sound cut through the charged silence like a hex.

They froze instantly, breath caught, hearts hammering. Fred’s hands stilled; Anna’s fingers tightened around his jumper.

Somewhere nearby, on the stairs leading to the girls’ dormitories, the faint sound of movement echoed.

Anna’s eyes caught it—a shadow flitting just beyond the firelight, a ripple in the dark robes that shouldn’t have been there.

Someone saw.

Her pulse spiked. What now?

Fred smirked, though his voice was low, teasing through the tension. “I think we just had a brush with the ghost of Gryffindor past.”

Anna swatted his chest lightly, but the laugh that escaped her was quiet and breathless—a fragile mask for the storm of adrenaline coursing through her.

For the rest of the night, their time together became slower, tenderer, more deliberate. The danger made each touch and whisper more precious, and neither of them pulled away.

Because the risk was real now.

Because someone had seen.

And because, even in the shadow of discovery, neither wanted to let go.

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten: Between Truths and Whispers

The library was quiet, the kind of stillness that made every whispered word feel heavier. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long beams across the rows of ancient books and polished wood. Anna sat at a corner table, fingers nervously tracing the edge of a worn volume, her thoughts restless and uneasy.

“Thought I’d find you here. For someone not getting grades, you sure do like to study,” Angelina teased softly as she slid into the seat beside Anna, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Anna looked up, startled but amused despite herself. “Maybe I’m just daydreaming.”

Angelina’s expression shifted, growing sharper but not unkind. “Have you heard about the wizarding hierarchy?”

Anna’s amusement faded. She shook her head, swallowing hard.

Angelina leaned back with a measured calmness. “It’s rarely talked about openly, but it shapes everything here. How people behave, who gets respect—and who doesn’t.”

She folded her arms lightly. “At the top are pure-bloods. Families with nothing but magical children, their lineage unbroken for generations.”

Anna said nothing, the weight of the words pressing down.

“Next come half-bloods—one magical parent, one Muggle-born.”

Anna nodded faintly.

Angelina’s tone grew firmer, but still without malice. “Then Muggle-borns, sometimes called Mudbloods. It’s a nasty slur you might overhear in dark corners.”

Anna’s stomach churned, a cold knot forming.

“And finally, Squibs,” Angelina continued quietly, “born to magical families but without any magic themselves. They’re treated like ghosts—ignored, sidelined, a secret no one wants to admit.”

Anna’s throat tightened. “And where do Muggles fit into all this?”

Angelina met her gaze directly, voice steady. “They don’t. They simply don’t.”

The words hit like ice.

Angelina’s eyes softened just slightly. “Look, I see what’s happening, how Fred looks at you, how he brightens when you’re near. It’s not just a joke or a game. I saw you two in the common room last night.”

Anna’s cheeks burned, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. “It doesn’t matter to him. He knows what I am. He said it’s fine.”

Angelina let out a small, humorless laugh. “You don’t know Fred like I do. He’s a flirt—that’s what he does. Always has. Maybe you think he’s changed, that you changed him. I thought that once too, but you haven’t.”

Anna blinked, caught off guard. Was this all just a part of his game? Was she just a meaningless fling?

“It’s just that—a fling,” Angelina said as if reading her thoughts, voice softer but firm. “Nothing serious. Nothing permanent.”

Anna’s voice wavered. “But this feels different.”

Angelina nodded slowly. “Maybe it does to you. But you have to understand, feelings don’t change the rules. Wizards don’t end up with Muggles, not if they want to stay part of this world.”

Anna’s breath caught, eyes wide.

Angelina’s expression was sober, her words sharp but honest. “When it happens, and it does, those relationships get quietly undone. No official punishment, no public break. Just whispers. Cold stares. Doors that close without warning. Magic fades in the Muggle world. Slowly, but inevitably.”

Anna stared at the spines of the books lining the shelves, her heart pounding painfully. That’s what was waiting for her.

“There are only two choices,” Angelina said plainly. “You break his heart now, and he’ll move on to the next girl, I swear he will. Or you hold on and the Fred we all know and love will disappear. His family is one of the oldest pure-blood families. He’ll be disowned by them. By his own brother.”

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

“And don’t forget that your presence here isn’t just a risk to you. His father works for the Ministry. If anyone found out…”

Angelina stood, gave Anna’s hand a brief, almost gentle squeeze, then gathered her books.

“Just think about what you’re doing, Anna. Is it worth what he’s risking? What you’re risking? It’s not like you can stay here forever.” Angelina stood and walked away without a backwards glance.

Anna sat frozen, the oppressive quiet of the library closing in. Her mind spiraled—Fred’s laughter, the brush of his hand beneath the table, how he always found her even in a crowd. And now this.

She wasn’t truly part of this world. She had stepped into it wide-eyed and hopeful. But now, hope felt like a sharp blade cutting through her. Wasn’t she here for just a glimpse into their world? She couldn’t hide forever. She didn’t want her accidental presence here to hurt anyone, especially not Fred who loved his family more than anything.

Wizards don’t end up with Muggles.

No threats. No cruelty.

Just cold, unforgiving truth.

And that was the hardest part to bear.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven: What Hurts the Most

The next day, something shifted, though Anna couldn’t say when the weight first settled on her chest. It was there the moment she opened her eyes, heavy and unwelcome, dragging her into a quiet dread she tried to push away.

At breakfast, the common room buzzed with chatter and clinking plates, but to Anna it felt distant, like a faint hum beneath the pounding in her skull.

Anna slid into the seat beside Alicia instead, pretending the space between her and Fred was safer than the one filled with the questions she didn’t want to answer. But she knew they were coming.

She forced herself to laugh at Alicia’s story about a disastrous potion mishap, the sound fragile and uneven. Fred sat just a few seats away, cracking jokes with his usual ease, his laughter like a spark she used to reach for. Today, she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. She watched him laughing with his brother. A brother he could, would, lose if she didn’t act.

Fred glanced at her once, then again. The confusion in his eyes felt like a sharp jab. He wasn’t close enough to graze her hand today, that was good. Angelina watched quietly, lifting her gaze with a cool, measured curiosity Anna wasn’t ready to face. The echo of their conversation replayed in her brain.

Her fingers gripped the edge of her goblet, nails pressing into the wood. She didn’t know how she was going to face him.

It hurt, more than she expected, to look at him without pretending.

All day, she dodged him, ducking into empty corridors, lingering in the sanctuary of the girls’ dormitory, letting conversations drift past her like smoke she couldn’t catch or hold. Fred didn’t press, but his presence felt like a question hanging in the air, demanding an answer she wasn’t ready to give.

That night, the common room had thinned, until only she remained—or almost. Fred appeared quietly and sat beside her on the couch. Not too close, but close enough to fill the empty space she’d made.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’ve been practicing stealth charms just to avoid me.”

She looked away, the movement small but enough to spark the tension crackling between them.

“…So I’m not imagining things.” His voice was tight, raw with frustration. “Are you avoiding me?”

She swallowed, trying to steady her voice. It took every ounce of her strength to force out the words. “Fred… this—us—it was a mistake.”

Her words felt brittle, fragile as glass. She tried to mask the quiver she felt inside, the fight she wasn’t sure she could win.

His smile faltered. For a heartbeat, he just stared, as if he hadn’t heard her right. Then—“A mistake? Come on Anna, you can’t really think that.”

She nodded, voice barely more than a whisper. “I do. I can’t do this.”

His jaw clenched, breath quickening. “Is this about your secret? Anna, I don’t care about that, you know I don’t. You know me.”

She looked away, unable to hold his gaze. “It’s not about that.”

“Did someone say something to you?” His voice sharpened, frustration bleeding through. “Because if they did… that’s stupid. You’re not some secret to hide or be ashamed of.”

“No,” She lied, the word tasting bitter in her mouth.

“Anna, tell me what this is about.” His voice was low, almost pleading, but edged with frustration. He raked his fingers through his hair. “Please. Don’t push me away like this.”

She couldn’t speak, knowing her voice would betray her.

“We can work through this, just talk to me,” he said, voice raw. “I don’t want to lose you.”

She shook her head, the weight of her choice anchoring her down. Her expression went blank, guarded. “It’s already over.” Her voice wavered, fragile as a sigh.

Fred’s frustration spilled out in a breathless rush. “This is stupid. You’re not alone in this, you know? Don’t shut me out. Just—don’t do this.”

“Anna,” He reached for her hand; instinctively, she pulled away gently.

“Fred, please. Don’t. I need space.”

He sagged back, the fight draining from him, voice softening. “Is this really what you want?”

She couldn’t answer. Instead, she turned away, blinking hard to hide the tears she didn’t want him to see. She nodded.

He stood slowly. “Goodnight, Anna.”

He hesitated on the steps, a single heartbeat that seemed to stretch forever, as if he too were caught between what was and what couldn’t be. Then, with a soft creak, he continued up the stairs. The final slam of his dormitory door echoed through the empty common room, leaving her alone with the hollow ache settling deep inside.

She pressed her hands to her face, trembling as the truth sank in.

It was the right thing, even if it meant she lost the only one that made her feel like she truly belonged.

But it left a hollow she wasn’t sure would ever heal.