Chapter Text
Molly Weasley meant well. She really did. But if Fred had to sit through one more blind date, he was going to blow his brains out. Ron had finally settled down and married Lavender last year (as if we all didn't see that one coming), which made Fred the last single Weasley sibling. This was a source of great stress for his mother, who could never allow him to walk in the door of the Burrow without telling him about some pretty girl she had met at the potions shop or the daughter of one of his father's colleagues who was "recently single and quite the catch".
Today, it was the latter. Fred walked up to the door of the flat at 7 PM, as promised, and knocked sharply on the door. A pretty young blonde girl answered the door, about his age and wearing a form-fitting, sleeveless green dress. Fred smiled his best smile and offered her his hand. "Lauren?" She nodded as she quietly accepted his hand. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Fred."
The girl was still smiling as she took Fred's arm and locked the door to her flat, but she still hadn't said a word. Fred shook his head. Thanks, mum. He said silently. At least this one was nice to look at. He'd have a pretty face to look at across the table while he made conversation with his salad.
They walked down the street from her flat to a little cafe that Fred had heard about and planned to take her to. He stayed silent for a moment, hoping that maybe she would speak. Still nothing. They arrived at the restaurant (only a two minute walk and Fred already felt like he had been here for an eternity), and Fred put their name in for a table. 10 minute wait, he was told. Might as well be a lifetime. He sat back down next to her in the entryway, and finally the silence was too much.
"So, your father works in the same department as my father, I understand?" All the girl did was nod. Fred rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long night. "And you? What do you do for a living?"
A direct question. Surely he could get a response. She cleared her throat and answered in a small voice "I'm a restaurant critic for the Daily Prophet."
Fred breathed a sigh of relief. So she does speak, a whole sentence even. Fred tried to pry a little further, seeing if he could convince her to elaborate, to say something, anything to make this evening a little more bearable.
"That sounds interesting!" Fred responded. "Have you ever been to this restaurant?" He asked.
She just shook her head and Fred winced. Apparently it comes and goes. He only hoped that her articles were more wordy than her conversation. Finally, they were seated at their table. All through dinner, Fred continued to try to make conversation. He asked questions, he made jokes, he was charm itself. He was Fred Weasley after all. He knew how to show a girl a good time, that is if the girl had a personality more interesting than that of a rock. He was right about one thing. The pretty face was something at least. Not the foundation of a healthy and stable relationship, but something. Of course, she spent most of the evening hiding her face behind a menu, but for the few fleeting moments that she was actually looking at him, he found her to be very attractive. Then again, communication is also quite attractive on a date.
It didn't matter if she looked at him, though. It didn't really even matter if she made conversation. She could have been the most witty and interesting conversationalist in the world and it wouldn't have made a difference. Because he was only here to make his mother happy. No matter what this girl did, no matter who his mum set him up with, none of them could compare to the girl that he wished desperately was sitting across the table from him. He knew it would never happen, though. She only considered him a friend, and that's the only way she would ever see him. But that didn't stop him from imagining that it was her curly hair and big brown eyes that he could see peeking out over the menu across the table.