Warnings!!!! - Mentions of angst, blackmail, nudes, and abusive relationships. Please don't read if any of these are triggers.

    Fred Weasley watched you as you walked through the Great Hall with an oversized gray jacket hanging off of your usual white button-down shirt and Gryffindor tie. He glared daggers at the article of clothing because he knew it wasn't yours; it belonged to Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch captain.

    You had been dating Marcus since the beginning of your fifth year at Hogwarts; now, you were mid-way through your sixth. During Gryffindor's shared Potions class with Slytherin, Snape partnered you with Marcus. Eventually, the two of you began talking, and you grew closer. But Fred had a crush on you long before that; since the end of the first year, Fred was head over in love with you, and his passion only grew as time went on.

    He couldn't stand watching you wear another guy's clothes, especially when he knew that you deserved better.

    Marcus would make out with any girl that showed an interest in him, even while dating you; he was a consistent womanizer. But for some unknown reason, much to Fred's dismay, you forgave him every time he wandered back to you.

    One day, Fred had enough. He couldn't stand watching you with him, especially when he noticed the disgusted, heartbroken look in your eye whenever you locked eyes with Fred while hanging out with Marcus.

    Fred was going to save you from the heartbreaker.
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    It was late at night, and everyone had gone to bed; everyone except you and Fred. Even George had grown weary of planning pranks and slumped off to his warm, comforting bed.

    It was perfect for Fred.

    You finally finished putting the final touches on your History of Magic essay concerning Grindelwald. With as much work as you put into it, you wondered why you hadn't been sorted into Ravenclaw during your first year.

    Fred's head perked up as he heard the familiar sound of rustling papers, signaling the end of your homework. Fred took a couple of deep breaths as he prepared to face you.

    For a Gryffindor, he was being weak.

    With that thought in mind, he forced himself to stride confidently over to you.

    "Hey, (Y/N), can we talk for a bit?" Fred asked, his lips pressed into a thin line.

    His words made you groan inwardly. Marcus gave you a hard time all day, and the work from all your classes made you feel like you were drowning. You wanted nothing more than to sleep, but alas, Fred was one of your closest friends, and you couldn't be rude to him.

    "Is it important, Fred?" you sighed exhaustedly, "I'm exhausted. Can it wait until tomorrow?"

    "I'm afraid not, (Y/N). I wouldn't bug you this late at night if it weren't," Fred explained, almost sorrowfully, "You know that."

    What could have possibly happened?

    "Okay, okay, but you better not tell me that you have an essay due tomorrow that you haven't started yet because I am not helping you," you attempted to smile, but it didn't reach your eyes, "So, what's up?"

    Fred smiled weakly back at you. This was hard for him, no matter how much he wanted to do it earlier. He knew this would hurt you, and he wasn't ready to see you hurt.

    "You know he doesn't love you, right?" Fred blurted before he could stop himself, "Marcus, I mean."

    You stared at him with glossy eyes and a sad smile. Was it that obvious?

    "...Yeah, yeah I know," you nodded with a sigh.

    "Then why are you still with him?" Fred gaped, "Why do you put up with him? You could do so much better."

    Your cheeks heated up at the ginger's words. You had fancied him since Marcus started messing around with other girls, but you knew you could never be with him. Not after the incident...

    "I guess I'm just the kind of person who tries to make things work," you sighed frustratedly, "I don't want to be the girlfriend who leaves when things get tough. I don't leave people."

    That's what Fred loved most about you; no matter what stupid mess he got himself into, you were always there to help him. But he could tell that, for the moment, you weren't genuine.

    "(Y/N), it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than you're trying to convince me," Fred pointed out, "Why are you really with him? And don't lie to me; a girl as smart as yourself has got to know that he's not going to change anytime soon. He's not good for you."

    "I...I can't just leave him," you stuttered as you stared dejectedly at the floor.

    "(Y/N), you're a Gryffindor! You're a strong, independent woman who can do whatever she puts her mind to," Fred smiled as he wrapped a comforting arm around you, "You don't need a man to make you happy or to prove your self-worth. But any man would be lucky to call you his."

    "It's not that, Fred," you interjected coldly.

    "Then what is it? Why can't you leave him?" Fred pestered.

    "Why do you care?" you hissed with a glare.

    Fred looked taken aback by your sudden outburst as hurt flashed through his eyes, but he couldn't give up now. He was already in too deep.

    "Because I can't stand seeing you with a man who only hurts you," Fred whispered as though he were afraid you would hear him, "I could treat you so much better than that bloke. I just need a chance."

    You couldn't believe your ears; did Fred just admit to having a crush on you?

    "W-what...?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest so loudly you thought Fred could hear it.

    "I care about you, (Y/N)," Fred admitted louder than the last time, "I...I love you. It hurts knowing that this fool is wasting his chance with you when I know I could make you happier than he ever could."

    "I...I love you too, Fred," you sighed as your eyes pooled with tears, "but we can't be together."

    "Why not?" Fred demanded with a hut expression plastered to his face, "You just said you love me, not Marcus! He doesn't love you, either! So why are you humoring him-?"

    You cried.

    You buried your head in your hands and sobbed. Fred could never understand why you did what you did, and you knew that. You knew you were hurting him, and it killed you, but hearing him yell only made you feel worse.

    "(Y/N), I'm so sorry," Fred whispered tentatively as though any wrong move would rip you away from him, "Please, talk to me. I meant it when I said that I care about you. Please, just let me help you."

    "You can't help me! No one can!" you sobbed as you plopped onto the couch, "I'm trapped!"

    "You're not trapped, just let me help you," Fred begged as he sat next to you, snaking his arms around you and holding you close. You buried your face into his shoulder, not worrying about his shirt that was certainly damp from your tears.

    You sat there for what felt like hours, crying until there were no tears left. Fred didn't seem to mind, though; he held you tightly as he softly rubbed your back and played with your hair.

    You took a deep breath as you removed yourself from his arms and tried to steady your breathing.

    "Please talk to me," Fred begged again softly as he trained his eyes on you.

    "O-okay, okay," you nodded weakly, "I'll tell you, b-but you have to promise not to tell a soul, especially not Marcus."

    "I promise, I won't share it with anyone for as long as I live," Fred promised sincerely, and you knew he wasn't lying.

    "Last summer, I caught Marcus cheating on me for the first time," you began with a shaky breath, "so I invited him over to my house to confront him and end the relationship."

    "Why didn't you...?" Fred asked with his nose wrinkled in confusion.

    You took a deep breath to prepare yourself for what you were about to say.

    "He...he came over about thirty minutes early," you explained as your voice wavered, "I had just gotten out of the shower. He...he snuck into my room and took pictures of me changing without me knowing..." You hung your head in shame as you confessed your deepest secret for the first time.

    "He what?!" Fred thundered, his cheeks heating up from his anger. If this were a cartoon, smoke would've poured from his ears.

    "W-when I went downstairs, h-he stopped me and showed me the p-pictures," you continued as you ignored him, your throat burning from the effort it took not to cry again, "He...he threatened to show everyone if I-I ever dumped him. I-I've been terrified of him ever since."

    Fred stood up, his fists balled up by his sides. "I'm going to make him pay for this. No one messes with my girl and gets away with it."

    "Y-your girl?" you stuttered, your heart rate increasing with worry, "Y-you can't say anything! He'll send those pictures to everyone! Y-you promised to stay quiet!"

    "You can't seriously expect me to sit here and do nothing while this jerk threatens you with crude pictures!" Fred gaped, his face as red as his hair from anger.

    "There's nothing you can do without risking my modesty!" you nearly shrieked as tears pricked at your eyes, "Stay out of it and let me handle things! Please, for me?"

    Fred's own eyes nearly filled with tears when he saw your pained, heartbroken expression. He rushed to your side, encasing you in his arms tightly as he lovingly stroked your hair.

    "Love, I'm going to make him stop," Fred promised, "He's never going to get another chance to use those pictures against you as long as I live."

    "How?" you whimpered, your bottom lip quivering slightly as you fought to control yourself.

    "Leave it to me," Fred reassured with a confident smirk plastered to his face, "I'm not a master of mischief for nothing."

    You took a deep breath, inhaling Fred's woodfire scent as you mulled his plan over in your head.

    Maybe things could get better if Fred helped you.

    "Okay," you nodded wearily, "I'm in."
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This is my first ever Harry Potter oneshot, so I hope you guys like it! I know it ended on a bit of a cliffhanger, so if you guys want a part two, just leave a request in the comments!