Y/N and Fred see each other after 7 years and she finally lets him know that she knew that he cheated on her with Angelina all those years ago. (fred lives au lol)

"i knew it was too good to be true."

"was in love with you. was."

WARNINGS: infidelity, angst

"Why did you leave?"

You froze in your spot when you heard those words come out of Fred's lips. The party behind the two of you was still in full swing— a party where his sister and her groom were celebrating their undying love for one another; Unbeknownst to them, just a few feet away, was the dying breath of another love.

You turned to face the man you'd fallen in love with all those years ago. You thought about the years you've wasted pining after Fred Weasley, dreaming of him like he was the one who put the stars in the sky. He was your safety blanket, one to cover you with a sense of comfort and belonging in a way that nobody was ever able to. He clouded your judgement until you didn't know right from wrong anymore, and yet, not once did he take advantage of his hold on you— because he's a good man.

And you hated it.

You hated how even though he was the same man who made you doubt in the power of love; even though he was the man who haunted you in your darkest hours; even though he was the man who laid beside a woman who wasn't you, tangled in the white sheets while he was supposed to be devoted to you; you still knew he was a good man.

"You don't get to ask me questions," you breathed out, shutting your eyes tightly. You couldn't look him in the eye, not while his eyes are flaming with anger and suffering.

"The hell I don't!" he exclaimed, stomping over to you. His tone was harsh, but even that couldn't mask the quivering of his words. "Why did you leave me?"

You finally opened your eyes, after feeling his breath tickling your skin, "You left me first, Fred."

His eyebrows furrowed, genuine confusion evident in his features. Fred gulped, blinking a few times, not expecting that answer, "What are you on about?"

"Angelina Johnson."

And just like that, Fred felt his knees grow weak.

His face paled, all color draining from his once red cheeks. He knows exactly what you were talking about. But he wished he didn't.

"Y/N," he began, his voice turning into a broken whisper, "I-I can explain."

"No need," you dismissed, staring at your feet. You kicked around the grass, sending small pebbles to ripple across the garden. "It's been years, Fred. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Obviously, it does," he insisted, stepping closer to you. He couldn't help but shed a tear when you took a step back.

You shyly looked at your fingers, unable to look at him in the eyes once more. It has been seven years since you found him sleeping soundly beside Angelina Johnson, right before the war. You confessed your feelings for him a few hours before that night, even going so far as kissing him under the moonlight before you went off to fight in the battle of Hogwarts the next day. You didn't speak to him the entire time and you left without another word once the war was over.

"Can we talk about this?"

"No, Fred," you hissed, not even bothering to wipe the tears that were falling from your eyes, "Do you know how many times I've cried while we were still at Hogwarts because people would whisper about how bloody pathetic I am for being madly in love with you? You daft git! I would've done anything for you, Fred. Everyone but you could see that."

You grimaced as you continued, "Do you know how it feels to confess your love for someone and then finding them in bed with another woman not even a day later? Do you know how it feels to lose your best friend and the one you love all in a blink of an eye?"

"Y/N, listen-"

"No, you listen," you exhaled. In that small moment of silence, you faintly heard the crowd chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" and you felt so guilty having this conversation during two of your closest friends' magical night. You looked at Fred, "I was so happy that night, you know? We've been best friends for ages before that and you always told me that I was deserving of love. I never believed you until that night because Merlin, if I'm deserving of Fred Weasley then maybe I am deserving of love."

"You are," he squeaked, trembling like your words were daggers stabbing him.

You ignored him, "I felt so stupid after seeing you with Angelina because then I knew it was too good to be true. I couldn't even bring myself to confront you about it."

"I-" you chuckled humorlessly, throat beginning to close up, "I wanted you, Fred. A-and obviously, you belonged to someone else and I just... I couldn't be there anymore. I couldn't be here anymore! How I managed to still be friends with Ginny or visit Charlie in Romania when I was there for work— knowing full well that I saw you every time I looked at them— without bursting into tears, I don't know! But I left for me, Fred. I needed to put myself back together again."

"Y/N, if I had known you're in love with me-"

"Was in love with you," you corrected, although you didn't know if what you were saying was the truth, "Was."

He flinched but continued, "-was in love with me, then I wouldn't hav-"

"Wouldn't have fucked her?"

Fred faltered, your words twisting the knife that was already buried in his chest. He nodded sadly, "Yeah."

"Fred, you would've done it anyway."

"No, I wouldn't!" he pleaded, rushing over to you. "I wouldn't because I was in love with you! I'm still in love with you! Had I known you weren't just saying that because we were going into war, I swear Y/N things would've been so different."

"Please save it," you placed a hand on his chest, keeping him at arms distance.

He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips as he peppered kisses to your knuckles. His tears touched your skin, the warmth of it making you shudder. You pulled your hand that he held closer to you, wanting to feel him near you, even just for a moment. You watched in despair as he murmured apologies into your skin.

His eyes were closed, eyelashes touching the scar on the crease of your index finger. Fred looked at you through blurred vision, eyes red from crying and pleading. You couldn't hear anything else but his sobs, the sounds from the wedding long forgotten. Fred whispered, not knowing if you were even listening to him anymore.

Please. Please. Please.

You stared at the boy in front of you in all his glory, vulnerable for you. Subconsciously you stroked his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, humming as he nudged his face into your touch. Fred's bottom lip quivered, twisting his head to kiss your palm. He whispered again.

Please. Please. Please.

"Freddie," you finally spoke. You felt his lips twitch to a smile at the way his nickname still sounded so smooth rolling off your tongue, so sweet like honey.

"Hm?"

"I want to forgive you."

"So please forgive me," he said so softly you almost didn't catch it.

You pulled your hand away, holding it close to your chest. You stared at each other, taking in each other's presence for the first time in seven years. He looked more mature. The years you've spent apart were kind to him. He looked more handsome than ever.

You stared at the scar on his eyebrow— the one that he got when he tried to teach you how to fly in your third year. You stared at his eyes— the same ones you used to dream about waking up next to in the morning. You stared at his lips— the ones that you had the pleasure to feel on yours on that forsaken night.

"I want to forgive you," you echoed, allowing yourself to bask in his presence one last time, "But I can't, Fred."

Silence.

"You-" you paused, collecting yourself before continuing. You looked up at the sky briefly, letting out a shaky breath, "You broke me. I have spent years trying to fix myself. All those years apart, all I've done is try to forget you but you're everywhere, Fred. You're the person in my dreams and in my nightmares all together. Everything reminds me of you."

"And I'd be lying to myself if I said I don't love you because I do," you confessed, now looking at him intently, "I fear that I'll always love you. I fear that I'll always be tied to you. I fear that you're probably the love of my life and I hate the part of me that still hopes that you are."

"Because if love is supposed to feel like this— if love is supposed to hurt like this— then I'd rather not love anyone for the rest of my life," you began to quiet down, wiping the tears on your cheeks. You started to walk back to the party, deciding that you've missed too much of the night already, "It was good to see you, Freddie."

Fred watched as you retreated back to the party, a fake smile plastered on your face. He stood there in the dark, crying silently and blaming himself for the mistake he made seven years ago, as he watched the love of his life give up on him.

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