A Christmas Miracle

This is a story about Fred Weasley and his true love... (hehe) A merry-christmas story for all readers hoping everyone finds their own true love! Maybe if people like this story, I'll write a sequel. I might write a story in which Draco finds his REAL true love... but it depends on the enthusiasm aka reviews I recieve... (coughcough)

Disclaimer: All the stuff you recognize belongs to JK Rowling. Flora belongs to me however...


After three years of solitude, it wasn’t a surprise to Flora Danbury that she’d be spending her Christmas alone. She sighed into the loneliness of her small living room, and sat down on her comfortable pumpkin colored couch. Picking up her thick lime-green mug of warm chocolate, she sipped the drink, feeling the sweet taste run through her. Yet it tasted oddly bitter. She looked around at her humble surroundings. Even using magic, she hadn’t been able to do much to fix up the shabby old house. It had been the most she could afford, what with her leaving the magical world and surviving in the little muggle town on a very low-paying job. It was the first time in her privileged life that Flora had ever had to struggle this much, and it was both heartening to know that she had come this far, but also disheartening to realize how low she’d come.

Anyway, she thought defiantly, she had survived. She’d made her home as nice as she could possibly make it, and she got by. But… it was especially on days like this, days when one should be surrounded by those they loved and who loved them back… days like this that Flora wished she could go back to the wizarding community, and back to all she had left.

She got up and looked in the shaky walnut bookshelf for the photo album filled with magical pictures. Bringing it over to the couch, she settled on it, lying curled up with a warm patchwork throw over her. Opening the book, the first picture she came upon brought a smile to her face. It was a picture of herself and Draco, making silly faces at the camera. Oh, Draco, she thought wistfully, I miss you. He had been one of her closest friends ever since they were toddlers. After lingering on his handsome face and childlike, excited smile, she turned the page.
The next was a picture of her family, and nearly brought tears to her eyes. There she was, at age thirteen, her hair glistening like spun gold. She was laughing, playing games with her twin brother Daniel. There was her mother, sitting on her beautiful cream and gold sofa, watching her two children frolicking with a benign smile on her pretty face. Her father was laughing, bouncing little Anne on his knee, while Chris tugged at his arm, wailing because he wanted to play too. She missed them awfully.

Most of the pictures were full of friends at Hogwarts- Neville, Luna, Draco, Ginny, Ashley, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. These brought happy memories to Flora, and she felt almost happy as she passed through them. Then her hand wavered at a picture. It was a picture of Fred. She felt a lump in her throat as she traced her fingers through his features. The picture of Fred smiled at her, waving, and blowing kisses.

She had loved him. They’d known each other for the past five years, and dated for a short three months before everything went wrong. For most of the time they’d known each other, Fred had been her best friend. George was also a very good friend, but with Fred, she had felt an undeniable connection. At twelve, she’d come as a transfer student from Beauxbatons because the girls there had hated her. Flora hadn’t fit into the whole environment, and after two miserable years, her parents had transferred her out of the school to be with Chris. When she’d first gotten there, she’d been absolutely nervous. What if nobody liked her here at Hogwarts either? What if she hated Hogwarts? But as Flora had looked around, scared out of her wits but trying to be brave, she caught a friendly eye. It had been Fred Weasley.
The red haired boy had winked at her, and gave her an encouraging smile that lit up his handsome freckled face. He’d waved her over, and Flora had gone shyly. She remembered so clearly their first conversation.

“Hello, my name is Fred! Are you a new student?” Fred had said, his blue eyes warm on her.

Then, a face exactly identical to Fred had popped up. “Wait a second, I thought I was George… are you sure, YOU’RE Fred?” the other had said, a look of perplexity on his face.

“No actually, I’m not,” Fred laughed. “All kidding aside, I’m Fred, and he’s George.”

“That’s really strange! I have a twin brother too!” exclaimed Flora. “His name is Chris- we’re not identical, of course, but we look a lot alike!”

“Chris Danbury?” questioned Fred. “He’s a Ravenclaw, right?”
“Yes,” acknowledged Flora. “I suppose I’ll be a Ravenclaw also, they run in families, don’t they?”

“Most of the time,” Fred had agreed. “But hopefully, you’ll be in Gryffindor.” He’d smiled, a smile so dazzling that he’d blinded her for a second. Sure enough, when she’d been sorted, she was sorted into Gryffindor. Flora, having had studied sooner than most students, were placed into Fred and George’s classes. The three soon became inseparable, and they were constantly up to mischief, with only Flora to stop them from the more risqué things.


Flora’s feelings had developed into more than just friendly by the time they were in their last year in Hogwarts. On a beautiful winter’s day, on Christmas Eve, was when she had finally admitted her feelings to him. George had gone somewhere, playing with Harry, Hermione, and the others. Fred had been about to follow him, but Flora had stopped him, touching his frayed blue sleeve hesitantly.

“Can… can I speak to you for a minute?” Flora had asked, nervously looking at her new pure white gloves that Mrs. Weasley had knitted for her.

“Sure, but I’ll be counting,” joked Fred. She’d looked up at him, and he’d been looking back at her, a little smile on his lips. There in the cold, with snowflakes floating around them, she’d given into an impulse, an impulse that Flora had never regretted, even now. Flora had reached up and kissed him.

She could remember how Fred had stiffened for a minute, surprised. Then, a guttural sound of pleasure had emitted from his lips, and she’d wrapped her arms around his neck. Flora could still recount the exact taste of him; he’d tasted of sugar quills, Honeyduke’s chocolate, mint, and of hot, passionate male. When they had parted from their kiss, Flora had looked into his desire-filled blue eyes and told him, “I like you, Fred.”
Flora had been afraid he’d laugh at her, that he’d make it into a joke like he always did. But he’d surprised her, and clasped her gloved hands into his. “I like you too, Flora.”Then they’d kissed again.

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Later, she’d given him the present she’d bought for him. It had been a simple gift of a useful book she’d found that he could use for ideas for the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and a beautiful gold and red phoenix feather quill and inkwell.

He’d given her his present, wrapped in silver and pale blue. When she’d opened it, she’d found an egg-white velvet box. Flora had protested. “I can’t accept this, it’s too expensive!” But Fred had only smiled.

“Open it.”

She did, and found the most precious necklace. It was a heart-shaped locket. Inside was a lock of his red hair and her blond hair wrapped together and a picture of herself and Fred enchanted to make him kiss her cheek.
“It’s lovely. I’ll wear it always,” Flora promised.

For three months, they had spent all their free time with each other, even more than before. Flora had never been happier than at that moment, with Fred stroking her hair by the fire in the common room, or them laughing together, or just studying. Just being in each other’s presence had been good enough for them, surrounded by the knowledge that they liked each other.
Draco always had a crush on Flora, since she’d been his confidante and the one person he could trust. She was the one who had convinced him that Gryffindors weren’t all bad, and made a friendship between Draco and Harry. Draco was one of her closest friends, and one day he’d confessed his love to her.

She had been in the Gryffindor Common Room, reading a Potions textbook for a paper she had to write when he’d come in and started talking.

“I love you, Flora, I always have. Since I was a child… you were always there for me. You’ve changed me into a better man,” Draco had said, his silvery eyes shining with the truth of his feelings. He’d knelt down before her, and produced a black velvet box that contained a huge diamond ring. “I can offer you a marriage with everything you need- money, love, and friendship. Please marry me.”

Flora had broken down into tears then. “I’m so sorry Draco… I can’t. I love you, Draco, I do… but you know how I feel about Fred. I can’t marry you.” She had sobbed, her heart breaking for her friend.

Draco, although his heart had just been stomped on, had embraced her. “Shh… it’s my fault. I knew you didn’t feel the same but…”

“Don’t you understand? I do love you… but…” Flora had meant to say ‘only as a friend’, but her tears had overwhelmed her. Suddenly, Draco’s lips had landed on hers, soft and soothing.
“It’s okay, really, I understand.”

But nothing had been okay. Fred had come into the Gryffindor common room, hearing Flora’s last sentence. Obviously, he had assumed the worst. Fury in his blue eyes, Fred had dragged Draco up and punched him in the jaw. This resulted in an out-and-out battle. Both were injured badly, and required Madam Pomfrey’s attention. Draco had been lying unconscious, but Fred had been awake, one eye swollen shut with scratches on the other, his lip bleeding profusely at one end, his nose slightly crooked. He had looked a mess. Flora, with tears in her eyes, had begged him to listen to her. But he’d only looked at her with a mixed expression of deep hurt, pain, and extreme anger.

She’d cried, trying to get him to understand what she had meant. But Fred had said in a quiet tone, more terrible than if he’d yelled at her;

“Please leave me alone. Marry Malfoy, I won’t stop you. Obviously, you were only playing with me and my emotions. Was it funny to you, Miss. Danbury? Was it funny to see a man with no money and only love to offer you fall for you and your ploys? Because if it was, by all means laugh. You couldn’t hurt me any more.”

“Fred… I… you don’t understand…” Flora had sobbed.

“Just go away, Flora. I don’t want to see you again.” His voice had been final.

That night, she’d cried on the warm shoulders of Ginny and Hermione, telling them everything. The two girls had comforted her, even cried with her, sympathizing her broken heart. She’d fallen asleep, her eyes red and swollen. The next day, she had acquiesced to Draco’s wishes, leaving Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry forever.

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Flora Danbury had changed her name to Florence Daniels. She’d hidden in the remote country of Switzerland, trying to freeze her emotions in the cold area. For three years, she’d lived in that cloistered state, not contacting anyone but the students she taught at the little cabin school two miles from here, teaching young students how to read and write. For the most part, the life hadn’t been bad, but she was twenty one and lonely. She hadn’t cried once since she’d gotten there.

It was nightfall when Flora got up from her couch and memories. Seven o’clock dinged the cuckoo clock, and she walked into her tiny kitchen area. She planned a meal of pot roast, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a chocolate cake for dessert. It was simple, but all things she enjoyed. As the meal was cooking, there was a hearty knock at her door. She walked to the door, wondering who it was. She smiled, wiping her hands on her apron, thinking it was probably the elderly Mrs. Graham from next door, bearing some sort of treat for her. The poor old dear, she was always so kind! Flora opened the door with a warm smile, looking towards her kitchen to see if everything was alright as she said, “Mrs. Graham, you shouldn’t have come out in this awful weather!”

“Flora?” It wasn’t Mrs. Graham’s voice. The voice was male and oddly familiar. Her heart throbbed, as she turned her face slowly to the speaker, and she looked into the face of the man she’d loved. Flora’s face grew pale.

“Fred…, come in I was just cooking dinner,” Flora said, restoring herself. She looked away from his searching blue eyes and haggard face. Her chest felt unusually tight as she felt his presence. Closing the door against the cold wind, she took his heavy navy blue coat and dark maroon scarf from him. Their hands brushed inadvertently as she did so, and caused a tingle of heat to spread between them.

“Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?” she asked politely. Before he could answer yes or no, she seated him at the sofa and with a flick of her wand, a pot of steaming tea and a cup appeared. “Please drink some, I’ll just check dinner.” As quickly as possible, Flora left the room for the safety of the kitchen, where she exhaled.

Why was he here? What could he possibly have to say? Flora’s hands trembled. She looked down at herself, wondering if she looked all right. Flora’s wardrobe had definitely changed. Although she could always have changed her clothes to more extravagant tastes with magic, Flora wasn’t required to here, where she rarely met anyone. She wore a simple sapphire blue sweater of wool, which was dreadfully frayed at the sleeves, and dark loose jeans. Her only form of jewelry was the locket she still wore around her neck. She wondered if he'd noticed it. Silently, Flora chastised herself for caring about her looks when there were more important things to ponder upon. With a deep breath, she took out the steaming, delicious pot roast, and the newly made bread, mashed potatoes, and green beans. She magic-ed them onto the small table with two chairs in the living room, as well as a pitcher of water, two glasses, and yellow butter on a dish. Forks, spoons, and knives had already been placed there.

Composing herself, Flora walked out, removing her apron. “Dinner is ready.” Fred stood up from the couch, watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. Flora noted the changes in his once laughing, exuberant face. There was no laughter in his blue eyes now, only a serious, contemplative look. His lips, although not grim, was not fixed into a perpetual smile. On the whole, he was more rugged, less soft than the boy she had fallen for.
Being in his presence was difficult for her. She wanted to ask him why he was here in her living room, how he had come… and why it had taken him so long to find her. Flora suppressed the questions bubbling inside her, and instead gestured to the table.
They both took their seats, somewhat uncomfortable. As they ate, Fred broke the silence. “Did you make this yourself?” he asked, somewhat surprised.

“Yes.”

“It’s good.” There was that surprise again in his voice.

She felt slightly nettled. “Burn your breakfast a dozen times, and you become a good cook soon enough,” Flora answered. They continued to eat in silence. After they had finished, Flora got up to take the dirty dishes when Fred stopped her.

“I’ll take them.” There was no room for argument in his voice, but she protested.
“You’re the guest, I’ll take them.”

He said something that bewildered and utterly confused her. “What if I don’t want to be a guest?” She was so confused that she let him move the dishes.

*What does he mean by that? Could it possibly mean…?* Flora shook her head. She didn’t want to hope, only to get her heart ripped open again. She couldn’t trust herself or him with hoping.
When he came back, she could tell he had thought also. There was trepidation, and something else in his expression. “Flora, I know you’re wondering why I came here.”

Flora nodded. He looked into her eyes for a second, then moved them away. “Shall we go sit on the couch, have some hot chocolate while we talk?” he questioned, obviously nervous.

“That would be lovely.” They did so, and with some muttered spells, two mugs full of hot chocolate with whipped cream, shaved chocolate, and marshmallows appeared.
The confection made Fred smile. “I see you haven’t lost your sweet tooth,” he said, laughter in his voice that reminded Flora of the old Fred.

“No, I haven’t,” she whispered. The smile faded from his face.

“I came here because we needed to talk,” Fred said without further ado.
“If it’s about… the past… then we really have nothing to say,” Flora countered, looking away from his probing gaze.

His eyes blazed. “Well, I have lots that I have to say. I’ll start with apologizing. I was wrong, Flora. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions and refused to listen to you… after I heard you’d left Hogwarts, Ginny told me everything… I…”

She didn’t want to hear it. It hurt too much. “It’s all in the past, Fred. Just forget it,” Flora said, twisting her hands painfully.

He grasped her hands, pulling them into his own. “But I can’t forget it, damn it! I made a mistake, a huge mistake, Flora. I’ve lived in hell for the past three years, alternately trying to forget you and trying to find you! Did you forget, Flora? Could you forget me?” Fred’s voice was pained, cracking with the enormity of his expressions.

“No!” she burst out, as tears ran down her face. “No, I couldn’t forget you, Fred! But I’ve moved on, I’ve survived! I don’t think I could survive you tearing my heart again and leaving it to bleed. I’m too afraid! Call me a coward! You couldn’t hurt me any worse than you’ve already done!” Flora unwittingly used the very words he’d used that night before their separation.

Fred’s face became pale and even more tired than before. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance, Flora. I know I may hurt you again. But I’m begging you for another chance, even though I screwed up the first time, because I love you!” Flora looked into his blue eyes, her eyes wide, tears still marking her face. He repeated his words. “I love you, Flora, and I always have.” When she didn’t say a word, just stared at him with a frozen expression, Fred stood up, his heart breaking.

“I understand. I shouldn’t have asked this of you. I’m sorry… I guess I just messed things up even more.” Fred slowly, mechanically put back his coat and scarf. He felt his pain overwhelm him, but he forced himself to say, “Goodbye, Flora. Merry Christmas.” He walked out, closing the door slowly behind him, allowing himself the luxury of a tear, when there was a whoosh of warm air at his back, and a pair of arms clutching him around the waist, a face squashed on his back.

“Don’t leave me…Fred. I love you,” Flora whispered, crying uncontrollably. Fred’s heart suddenly took flight into the starry heavens, as he turned around and met her teary gaze. In each other’s eyes, they saw their love for each other and the pain of the past three years mirrored. Fred lifted Flora into his strong arms, and crushed her to his chest.

“I love you, Flora,” he said hoarsely, tears sparkling in his own eyes. As their lips met in a kiss full of passionate love, their hearts rejoiced in each other, and the snow began to fall, covering the world in a white blanket of peace.