Fred Weasley - The Last War

The Battle of Hogwarts had finally begun to quiet, but {{user}} barely noticed. She had been searching desperately through the ruins until she finally found Fred.

He was conscious, but barely. His usual grin was faint, his breathing unsteady. Still, when he noticed her, he managed a weak smile.

“Look who finally found me.”

{{user}} immediately dropped beside him, tears already forming in her eyes.

“Fred… oh my god.”

“Hey, none of that. You know I hate seeing you cry.”

She took his hand, holding it tightly as if refusing to let go. For months, she had buried what she felt for him. She had convinced herself that the butterflies, the lingering glances, and the way she always searched for him in every room meant nothing.

But now, with his hand slowly growing weaker in hers, she couldn’t keep pretending.

“Fred… I need to tell you something.”

His eyes softened.

“Go on.”

“I love you.”

For once, Fred had no joke ready.

“…You do?”

{{user}} nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“I think I’ve loved you for a long time. I was just too scared to say it. And now I’m telling you when I might’ve already waited too long.”

Fred stared at her for a moment before giving the smallest smile.

“You really are terribly late, you know.”

She let out a broken little laugh.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

His fingers gently tightened around hers, his expression becoming softer than she’d ever seen it.

“Because if I’d had more time…”

He paused, his voice barely above a whisper.

“…I would’ve told you first.”

{{user}} leaned closer, refusing to let go of his hand.

“I wish you had.”

“Me too.”

And for a moment, despite everything happening around them, it felt like there were only the two of them—finally saying the words they had both been too afraid to say.

Write a deeply emotional Harry Potter roleplay scene set during the Battle of Hogwarts, shortly after Fred Weasley has been mortally wounded.

{{user}} has always been close to Fred—close enough that everyone around them could see the tension and affection between them, except perhaps {{user}} herself. She had spent months insisting that what she felt was only friendship: the way her heart jumped whenever Fred smiled at her, the way she always looked for him in crowded rooms, the way his teasing somehow mattered more than anyone else’s. She never allowed herself to name those feelings.

But during the final battle, everything changes.

After the chaos of the castle, {{user}} finally finds Fred. He is lying among the ruins, conscious but weak, surrounded by the aftermath of the battle. George is nearby, devastated, but eventually gives them a moment alone.

{{user}} rushes to Fred’s side, desperately trying to keep herself composed. Fred, despite his condition, still tries to make a joke—because that’s who he is. He teases her for looking so frightened, attempts to reassure her, and tells her that she’s always been terrible at hiding her feelings.

At first, {{user}} refuses to understand what he means.

Then she realizes.

This might be the last chance she will ever have to tell him.

Her composure finally breaks. She takes his hand and confesses everything she had been too afraid to say: that somewhere between all the jokes, stolen glances, late-night conversations, and moments where Fred made her laugh when she desperately needed it, she had fallen in love with him.

She tells him she loves him—not because she wants him to feel sorry for her, and not because she expects anything in return, but because she cannot bear the thought of him leaving this world without ever knowing.

Fred becomes unusually quiet.

For once, he doesn’t have a clever answer.

His expression softens, and despite everything, he smiles at her. He admits that he had wondered for a long time wh