Thoughts and Memories

A/N: This was written for the one hour challenge, where I had to write 750 words in an hour about Draco/Fred, with the prompt being 'table'.

Draco sat down at the Slytherin table, his eyes cast down onto his plate. Playing with his food, he was lost in thought. It had been several months since the war, and so much had changed. Those who hadn't been present at Hogwarts last year had been offered an opportunity to re-take, and so after a summer of hiding away, Draco was forced to face the world.

Hogwarts was so much different now, yet still the same in many ways. Many regarded the Slytherins as evil, even more so than they did before. Several members of the house had been seen clearly working alongside the Death Eaters, and some had even been arrested - only their young age kept them out of Azkaban. As for himself, he was spared - but his father was not quite so lucky. As usual, this only affected the Slytherins - despite a few Ravenclaws and even a Hufflepuff and their families were discovered to be Death Eaters.

The other students tend to react in two ways to the Slytherins – there were the 'Starers' who tended to stare as if the Sytherins would attack as soon as they looked away, and then those who just ignored them, as if it was beneath their dignity to acknowledge their existence.

But this, he could deal with. It was not the first time people were afraid of him or gave him the cold shoulder – he had grown used to it after many years. He simply ignored them as much as he was able to.

The worst thing was much more. It was that he was no longer here to comfort Draco and help him survive his darkest days. One of the only people – perhaps even the only one who Draco could open up to and tell everything and anything. As the Great Hall began to empty, Draco was thankful he had a free period first, he couldn't face sitting in a class in such a mood. Ignoring the thought of the growing pile of essays and chapters to read for class, he headed outside, not caring that he would regret it later. Now, he just needed to be alone with his thoughts.

It was strange how it happened. It had crept up on him, he hadn't even noticed it was happening – he didn't understand what those far too-long looks over at the Gryffindor table meant, at first. He had never expected to fall for a boy – let alone a Weasley! The very family that both he openly mocked. But none of that seemed relevant once he realised his feelings – sure, he argued about it in his head many times – but his feelings just wouldn't budge, no matter how much he had told himself he did not have feelings for Fred Weasley.

He couldn't understand why – Why not the other Weasley? They were identical in many ways, yet Draco had noticed subtle differences – not that he had been watching the pair, obviously. Fred seemed a touch kinder than George, talking his brother out of some of the more reckless pranks. Draco smiled at a memory of him overhearing the twins talking in the library, distracted from their work by the thought of pranks and mischief. It was before Fred had returned his affections (which was much to his surprise), and had not yet noticed his staring.

Pulling out of the memory with a jolt, he realised he was on the border of the Forbidden Forest. Not hesitating to enter, his feet automatically directed him to a place he hadn't visited in over a very long time. His eyes grew wide as he realised where he was.

The small clearing was the same as ever, not even the trees or shrubs seemed to have grown at all. He regarded the low branch warily, as if it were to attack him. After a minute or so of contemplation, he crossed the clearing in a few strides and sat down on the tree. He was this far now, he might as well go the whole way.

Closing his eyes, the memories flung themselves at him.

Fred was sitting beside him on the branch. 'I never imagined something like this to happen," he murmured, leaning into Draco and capturing his lips. A current seemed to pass through Draco's body, and where Fred's hand was on his cheek seemed to tingle. After a few moments, he pulled away, looking at Draco to gauge his response. Draco gave a rare smile and brought his lips back to meet his own.

ooOoo

Himself running towards the clearing, panting, to find Fred pacing. "I was worried," he said, the concern showing in his eyes, "I was worried something happened."

It was like this all the time, now. The Dark Lord had returned the previous summer, despite the Ministry not believing it, and Fred was worried for Draco's safety, knowing what his father was. Draco found Fred's concern oddly soothing, it was nice to know that someone other than his parents cared for him – and it strengthened his resolve to survive the war.

Many more memories followed, both good and bad, of shared kisses and arguments. Of whispers and rumours, but never of the war. That was a topic they never discussed - for Draco knew where his place was, and nothing Fred could ever do would persuade him to leave his family.

Then one last memory.

He looked up from the branch as Fred entered, late as usual. "Hey," he said, reaching forward to take Draco's hand. Draco pulled away, looking at his hands. He didn't have the courage to look him in the eye.

"I can't do this anymore," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

He expected Fred to argue, but what he said instead surprised him. "One day, this war will be over. Then, there will be nothing to prevent us being together." He smiled at the idea.

Draco walked out of the clearing without replying, feeling Fred's gaze on him.

That was the last conversation they had ever had.