"I need to tell you something," Harry said. He was dead serious as he sat in the blanket set out in front of the fireplace. Fred cocked his head.

"What's up?"

"You're a terrible cook."

Fred snorted and let out a big bellied laugh. Harry giggled before shushing him. He smiled as Fred made a dramatic show of "calming down."

"You're gonna get us caught!"

"Doing what? Eating in our common room? Live on the wild side, 'Ry." Fred had a droopy grin. He held a sandwich in his left hand. It oozed out mustard. Harry rolled his eyes pretending to not be amused.

"I have to say... this is a great date." Harry admitted. He felt himself blush. He knew he was shy, and it was irrational, but Harry felt like he made everything awkward.

"I'm glad. I'll be honest with you, it's.. it's my first date."

"Was it strange? I didn't even think of boys back at eleven." Hermione asked, interrupting Harry quietly. Harry shrugged.

"He was 13, but our first few years was nothing too.. adult. If that makes sense?" He paused and let out a sigh. His face was turning red.

"He was so concerned over my comfort and making sure we took it slow. It was sweet, a little frustrating when I got older, but sweet."

Hermione beamed at him. "I'm glad."

Harry fiddled with the letter in his pocket. He tried to fight tears as grief ran through him. It was amazing, but so painful to relive moments like this.

"What's in your pocket?" Ron asked. Harry froze.

"I-um.. a letter." He tried to play it cool. He tried to pretend to be casual and not at all awkward.

Key words being tried and pretend.

"A letter? Do you need to send a letter, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Harry bit his lip.

"No- it's.. it's a letter from Fred."

The number two on the parchment weighed heavily.

"Sorry–"

"It's okay! I.. I was too upset to read it earlier. I forgot it was even there.."

"Do you want to read it?" George asked. His voice was soft and he glanced at his family. His face dared them to say no, deny Harry a simple pleasure.

"I.. okay. I'll read it."