Crush

 

Fred knows it childish to have crushes on famous witches and wizards, so he doesn't do that thing where you moon around and have secret fantasies of marrying this cute Quidditch player or that beautiful witch heroine. He's not Ginny after all, although he'd hit anyone who wasn't in the family for suggesting Ginny did anything like that, either.

What he'd never admit to anyone, though, is that he keeps a pinup of Viktor Krum between the pages of a book he never reads.

Its stupid. It really is. Its just an ordinary picture of Krum on his broom, and when Fred takes it out to look at all it ever does it glare at him. Its not a particularly attractive picture, or a very nice one in that it looks as though it would bite his fingers if it could. Worse, the book Fred doesn't read often is the one George needs for homework occasionally, so when George finds the picture Fred has to pretend he's coveting the broomstick, not the rider.

Fred knows that nothing will ever come of it. And its not as if he expects to marry Viktor Krum, or be carried off into the sunset by him, or even to be kissed senseless by him. He doesn't even particularly want Krum to do any of those things, except the last one, and even that only in weak moments.

Still, when Fred has the opportunity to meet Krum, he gives the other boy a strong handshake, dragging his fingers over Krum's as he pulls away, savoring the feel of Krum's Quidditch callouses against his own. When Krum merely nods politely at him and walks onward, Fred has to remind himself that he's not Ginny, and Krum is not Harry Potter. Fred isn't a thirteen-year-old girl, he's nearly a man, and men don't get crushes.

They fall in love.