Two-shot now! Sorry, Ellie, I know you wanted happy but...ENJOY

Not a Love Story

Fred's Kind of Love

Fred was happy.

Not many people were blessed with such a beautiful partner, a successful and fun career, a loving family and a popular life. Fred was one of the lucky ones.

He had Angelina, his beauty, his love, his childhood sweetheart beside him always. He woke up to her light snoring and naked skin and went to bed with her warmth cuddled to his side, her eyes blazing with their limitless passion, identical pools of liquid chocolate. Their life together was bliss. They argued, of course they did; they were a real couple in the real world. Life wasn't a fairy-tale. But with the spiral down came the climb up, a venture Fred didn't mind to exert himself on. The makeup sex always had been mind-blowing. Molly had once commented that they were ingredients to a cake: Fred the eggs, messy and difficult to remove once it got hold of you, and Angelina the baking powder, forever uplifting. Separated, they were foul and useless. Mix them together with some flour, sugar, vanilla and chocolate chips, you got the most beautiful treat.

It was an odd analogy, one he never truly appreciated. But that was Molly Weasley for you.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was a joy to behold every day, the pleasure and pride indescribable at making others smile. It was his and George's first child, and it was only naturally they shared it as they did with most other things. Never before had Fred been truly dedicated or hardworking to the extent of sleepless nights and empty stomachs that lasted hours. It had been a trek, a thousand mile hike to get it to where it was today, and he was bloody proud. It helped that he worked as a professional prankster, a title he had held from birth, as opposed to conforming to his parents' wishes in becoming a worker for the Ministry. That never sat well with him.

And then there was his family. The Weasley's and Johnson's were constant figures in his life, aiding him through any troubles, encouraging him, supporting him. His siblings, his in-laws, nieces and nephews always made sure there was light in his life. New adventures, new Firsts, new surprises. He had it all.

But amongst all the New's and the future there was a hole from the Old's.

One particular Old.

It had never been a conspicuous hole. He couldn't even tell you when it appeared. He had no idea his perfect life could manage a hole. Time; that would cure the hole, the hole smaller than the eye in a needle. That was the only solution Fred could come up with. Nothing else filled it. And eventually, he realised, neither could time.

Years passed without any knowledge of the hole. It couldn't have been such a bad thing, then, if he had lasted so long unaware. But it was comparable to a black hole. It ate away everything meaningful, everything natural. Fred found himself wearing a mask, putting up a front in an attempt to maintain his smile that would naturally form at his perfect life.

But he couldn't understand why.

Let's run back to when it hurt, the exact moment the hole throbbed, alerting Fred to its existence.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Where else would such an eventful thing happen to a Weasley twin? It was where they proposed to their significant others, where they notified their families, customers and the whole of the wizarding world to their blossoming families, where Alicia had given birth, being too weak to leave the bed and get to St Mungos.

None of that is in anyway relevant to this, so let's continue to the story of the hole.

George. Fred. Lee. Alicia. Katie. Angelina.

That was their group. Since their days at Hogwarts they were always together, always included in each other's lives. They met on their very first day at Hogwarts and became friends instantly. They maintained their tight friendship through every obstacle, the arguments, the stealing of dibbed boyfriends and girlfriends, and the war.

All except Katie.

(Even now the hole is hurting simply by thinking of it)

She wasn't part of their initial group. She had joined some time later over the years. No one knew how, but she became integral to their group in spite of being in the year below them all. It wasn't her age that was an issue – she was born in the same year as the twins but several months later that ensured her acceptance into the year beneath – and yet Fred always made a big deal of it. Even he wasn't sure why. He suspected it was because nothing else could get her so riled up, so red in the face and magnified by anger. Pride filled him at eliciting such a rare reaction from the little spitfire. So, he continued.

It would be wrong to assume that Fred was ignorant to her stares when she thought he was too occupied to notice, or when she managed to grab a seat beside him wherever they were, regardless of how close the other person was (several times she had squeezed between him and someone else). What is not wrong to assume, however, is how he played on her feelings.

(The hole is slowly being to burn at the edges Molten fire is the only thing he knows that can fill it)

Her lap became his pillow, her fingers his comb and her hair playthings. Nothing he did seemed selfish at the time, he excused it as a resolve to his boredom.

Angelina had always been his mind's focus. She was beautiful beyond imagination, perfect in every sense, Fred's glove. They fit in such a way that Fred had never – could never – consider anyone else.

This story has somehow digressed again. But this back story is significant. So be patient. We'll return to the Wheezes shortly.

It had always been Angelina. Always.

No guilt ate him for Katie missing the Yule Ball. That was her own fault for turning everyone who asked her down. Her own fault for being stubborn and selfish, waiting only for Fred. There was no guilt when he gave her a celebratory kiss after they won that Quidditch match in his final year, that had purely been instinctive, the need to release his euphoria. It was by coincidence that she was the closest female.

(No guilt back then but it flooded him now The world's weight dropping in the bottomless hole)

The only way he could explain his anger at her public displays of affection with her numerous boyfriends in the following years could only be that of a protective older brother. It was always the same excuse: "He's a man whore"; "I'm looking out for you"; "You can do loads better."

Those were what he heard in his head anyway. What actually came out was bitter rage. And she never failed in returning it. That fire he loved evoking so much. And it was only ever him.

It was after seeing her so lifeless and hollow in Grimmauld Place that he confronted her. The timing could have been better, Fred admits that, but he needed it off his chest. You see, he had been toying with the idea of proposing to Angelina since before he had left Hogwarts. War was no longer on the horizon, it was on their doorstep, and he wanted no regrets were he to die. But he needed Katie to move on.

How stupid Young Fred was.

She fought back like she always did, his words giving her the fight she needed to live for.

Eventually, she stepped back. And Fred was happy.

For those of you who have been reading attentively you may have come to the conclusion that Fred didn't propose before the war. You are right, he didn't. Because soon after the war came, and the concern of staying alive weighed more than that of marriage.

Fred can't remember much about the abyss he lived in during his coma. He heard garbled words and echoing cries, but their identities were faceless, all converging into pitches, not distinct voices.

And there, when he opened his eyes, saw Katie beside his George.

(The hole, if it could, would be weeping Recalling her tears, the only time he ever saw such a scene, could make Death pause)

She had taken a step back, but that was all that it had been, a measly step. Until he married Angelina.

Katie was one of the first to be added to the wedding list, her invitation being verbal and her involvement crucial to the bride. She smiled through it all, danced and then…left.

It wasn't what Fred wanted, but it had happened.

This is where he believes the hole to have emerged from, but he can't be sure. He didn't notice it until he saw her again years later.

And here we are, back to Wheezes. Where else would he see her again? It was where everything happened.

Fred was behind the counter, a large crowd of children and parents between him and the entrance, and yet, something inside made him look up out the window. There was the tiniest gap where he could see out, and he couldn't miss the familiar head of messy hair, the messiest he'd ever known.

He didn't see her face, he didn't need to. A laugh burst forth, bubbling from his stomach and filling the noisy shop.

(The hole is heating, it's beginning to burn and he knows what is coming)

The notion to run out the shop was pushed away as she stepped in, saving him from leaving a queue that would have no doubt seethed if they had to wait to pay for their products and leave.

Beautiful was not a beautiful enough adjective to describe her.

No longer was her face blemished, although there permanent, slightly faded scars took their place. She was glowing, or was that the effect of her smile, the kind of smile he had never seen on her? It was Old Katie with New Smile. And it looked good. Radiant. Glorious.

The hole is coming.

Katie was still Katie, just matured in her appearance (not the hair, never the hair). Her eyes shone, the same shade of green, only brighter and more alive. Her face was angular and cheekbones poked through the skin with her smile, revealing her slightly crooked teeth. Fred had once mocked her for her teeth, the name lost in the book of past conflicts, but it had only been uttered once, for she had kicked him where no man ever cared to be kicked.

His dick throbbed just from the vague memory.

Ignoring the customers in front of him, he made to jump over the counter, the damn thing blocking him from an otherwise easy path to her.

Lips pressed into her cheek.

(The hole is on fire Agony is coursing through him)

Fred knows the owner of those lips. He had been invited to have drinks with him just the other night along with George and Lee. In fact, he was an addition to their group of friends, yet he was an odd one too, like Katie. He was older instead of younger, and calm, not feisty. He didn't get into fights, rather he diffused them or stayed out altogether. Unlike Katie, he didn't spend all of his time with them, realising the necessity to stick with people his own age, keep his own friends.

It all clicked now. Every time they met up with him he would always shy away from the questions pertaining to his relationship status. Before it was "uncertain," then, "unrequited," eventually moving onto, "girlfriend." It went through all the stages of a relationship, and the last Fred had heard it was, "love."

(Hot fire Too hot The edges of the hole are bubbling from the heat)

"How do we know she's real?" George had teased. They never heard a name, or an age, or a Hogwarts House, or anything specific. The only information they were enclosed with was that she was younger, gorgeous, and an old friend. They had assumed it was a friend from his hometown in Scotland. Katie never crossed their minds.

"You sure she's a she?" Lee questioned. "You don't have to cover up if she's, you know, a he. We're cool with that."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Yeh'll get teh meet her soon, don' worry lads," he had said.

"How soon? I need to plan a holiday if there're any wedding bells coming," Fred said.

"I'll surprise yeh's," was all he replied with, and it had been the end of the conversation.

And boy was Fred surprised.

Three words during Fred's time at Hogwarts, three words that girls always used to describe Oliver Wood. Tall, dark and handsome. The Scottish babe, Quidditch enthusiast (Fred and George had claimed that Oliver put the 'nut' in 'enthusiast', only it wasn't in order of letters because he was too busy blocking Quaffles) and nice boy.

And there he was, holding Katie to him from behind, nuzzling her neck and kissing her skin.

(The hole hurts How can something empty hurt so bad)

From over her shoulder Oliver spotted him, and, whispering into her ear, his mouth unnecessarily nipping the lobe, directed them over to him, his arms unyielding.

"Weasley!" he called, typically not being able to tell the difference even though George had a lopsided head. Fred always thought Oliver was thick.

(A sting for the lie in his head Fred always respected Oliver, thought he was secretly smart The hole is angry at Fred)

"Wood," he managed to mumble, his mouth suddenly dry.

Her eyes met his. And she smiled.

Colours, patterns and symbols. Fred and Katie. Katie and Fred. They were a kaleidoscope, constantly dancing, morphing and changing in response to the other. Without one there was stillness. Nothing. Boring.

Hot and cold circling. A tornado at the worst of times, one always trying to best the other. In Fred's opinion, she always won, whether she realised it or not. The hole agreed with him.

His ears stopped functioning, the effect of water swimming in them taking over. Oliver's mouth moved, an introduction to his girlfriend. Or did he just say fiancé? Fred was clueless. He couldn't stop looking at Katie and her New Smile.

Apparently (he can't remember his action from those moments), he invited them around for dinner once George arrived to greet them. He didn't know this until he opened his door to see them both there. George was there with Alicia and his three children, Lee and Verity with their child, and then Fred and Angelina with her bump. If you asked Fred to tell you one thing he remembers from that evening, he would mention the food, and that was only because he had burnt it, Angelina cried, and he had to order something else. Everything else was Katie and Oliver. More Katie than Oliver.

But he remembered them leaving. He helped Katie put her robe on as Angelina was showing Oliver he yearbook, him being in the Quidditch team photos. She reminisced a lot during her pregnancy.

"Are you happy?" he whispered.

She visibly shivered from his breath. They were facing each other and Fred saw her eyes shift behind him. Without thinking, he followed her gaze: Oliver. He didn't look at him long. His spitfire was there and he didn't want to miss a second of her.

"Yes," she replied, equally quiet, her New Smile fixed on her lips. She met his eyes again. "I don't love you, Fred."

(The hole is killing him, he's sure of it Death is painful)

"No, that's a lie. I do. I can't stop. But…but…"

He never found out what 'but' was, because Oliver came over, kissed her soundly, and together they left, their neat wedding invitation sitting on the table.

Fred was happy. Of course he was. Why wouldn't he be?