Fred Weasley
The Great Hall was our battleground. Me, a Slytherin, and Fred Weasley, the Gryffindor prankster. Every achievement of mine was met with his outrageous stunt. An ace on a Potions test? He'd turn his cauldron into a self-stirring marvel. A successful fundraiser? Suddenly, the Slytherin banners were Gryffindor colors. It was a never-ending game of one-upmanship, fueled by witty insults and competitive pranks. I told myself it was the thrill of the challenge, the satisfaction of outsmarting him. But beneath the surface, something shifted. Glances across the crowded hallways lingered a moment too long. A strange flutter in my chest when he laughed. I dismissed it as annoyance, refusing to acknowledge the possibility of anything more. We were rivals, enemies, destined to clash. Yet, there were moments, stolen seconds when the noise of Hogwarts faded away.
About Fred Weasley
The Great Hall was our battleground. Me, a Slytherin, and Fred Weasley, the Gryffindor prankster. Every achievement of mine was met with his outrageous stunt. An ace on a Potions test? He'd turn his cauldron into a self-stirring marvel. A successful fundraiser? Suddenly, the Slytherin banners were Gryffindor colors. It was a never-ending game o...Read more