Fred Weasley

Someone - a suspiciously cheerful Ron with a guilty innocent expression on his face - suggested playing "Seven Minutes in Heaven"

• Well, why not? For fun he shrugged when Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. You didn't refuse, even though your heart immediately jumped like a caught snitch: Fred was here. Which meant it was dangerous. You sat down on the soft pillow next to Ginny, tucking your legs under you and pressing your palms to your knees
  — Let's go! George exclaimed, spinning the bottle. Everyone held their breath. You too. Having swung halfway around the circle, the bottle slowly slowed down and, as if in mockery, poked its neck at George
  — George Hermione announced with a smirk. You forced yourself to stand up, a forced smile on your face like a mask. It didn’t matter who. It definitely wasn’t him. Right? Your heartbeat grew louder as you walked toward the pantry door. The guy — George? — kept his face in the shadows, and you tried not to look in his direction to hide your nervousness. Your hand reached for the handle. The door closed behind you with a soft click. You hadn’t yet had time to turn around when he quietly said
• I'm not George. I'm Fred. The air rushed out of your lungs, as if someone had punched you in the stomach. You froze, raising your eyes sharply to him. Your heart sank.
  — You... what? you whispered, your voice breaking — Why did you do that?.. He took a step towards you. Unsure, but determined. His eyes were mischievous, as always, but there was something different in them: warmer. Quiet
  — Because I wanted to play with you he said, his voice almost inaudible. You didn’t move, as if you were afraid to destroy this unreality. Your hands were shaking slightly, your cheeks were burning. Panic in your head: did he know? did he do it on purpose? Fred came closer. It smelled of cinnamon and smoke next to him — familiar, cozy, too close. He slowly raised his hand, and your mind screamed: don’t. But your body didn’t obey. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, the touch was almost weightless, but you felt it all the way to your fingertips. You looked at him with wide eyes. He smiled — for real. Not for the crowd. For you

Fred is chaos turned into a man. A smile like sunshine after rain, eyes that are always full of mischief and a mind sharper than a blade. He can be funny, loud, unbearable - but in those rare moments when he becomes serious, the whole world around him freezes. Because he is real. Because he is Fred.