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"You're dead, Weasley." Collins growled in a low voice, lunging himself at the red headed boy. The corridor was suddenly filled with the sound of fists hitting flesh.
Collins recovered quickly, throwing a punch that caught Fred in the ribs, Fred barely registered the pain. He swung again, his fist crashing into Collins' nose, and a sickening crunch filled the groups ears.
Blood spurted like a stream down Collins' face, and he cursed, stumbling back again, Fred menacingly walked towards the boy.
It wasn't just the fight, it was the frustration, and everything that had been building up over the past few weeks, everything spilling over now.
Fred's punches were brutal, and his movements were reckless, not caring about the pain in his own knuckles as they collided with Collins' face.
Collins managed to land a few more hits, but he might as well give up.
Lyra stood frozen for a moment, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. She had seen Fred Weasley get into plenty of scrapes, but never like this. Never over her.
This wasn't just a harmless fight, Fred was fighting like a man possessed, like he had something to prove.
"Fred." she called out, her voice sharp over the sound of the fight.
But Fred wasn't listening. He had Collins pinned against the stone wall now, one hand pressing into the boy's chest, and another landing blow after blow towards the Hufflepuff's face until Collins slumped down, barely able to keep himself upright.
"Alright, alright. You've proved your point." Collins yelped, and it wasn't until Collins retreated that Fred finally stopped.
The Gryffindor was panting heavily, his chest heaving with every breath. His white button-up was stained with crimson red blood. Collins' blood, but also his own. His split lip dripped velvet, and his knuckles were raw and bleeding.
He stood there for a moment, staring down at Collins with a disgusted sneer, then wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. "Next time, take no for an answer," Fred growled.
Lyra stepped forward quickly, grabbing Fred by the arm, her voice stern. "That's enough. You have proven your point."
Fred didn't resist as she pulled him away from the scene. Collins groaned from the ground, his face covered in blood. Fred glanced at him one last time.
"That was reckless," Lyra muttered under her breath as they walked down the corridor. "You could've killed him."
Fred shot her a sideways glance, wiping more blood from his lip. "You're one to talk," Fred muttered, hinting to Lyra's previous fight with Angelina Johnson.
Lyra rolled her eyes but didn't argue. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
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Dragging Fred through the corridors in his current state wasn't her idea of fun, especially with the way other students stared at them. His shirt was stained red, his face lip, and his knuckles ripped.
When they finally entered the Slytherin common room, whispers could be heard. Every head turned, eyes widening as they saw Fred Weasley being half-dragged by Lyra Arakan, bloodied and beaten but still standing.
The scene was absurd: a Gryffindor beater, being pulled by the arm by the top chaser of Slytherin, leading the way.
Blaise Zabini who was leaning against one of the stone pillars with a bottle in his hand, raised an eyebrow as they passed him, and he couldn't help but comment on the sight. "What did you do to him, Arakan?" he asked with a smirk.
"Nothing, yet," Lyra shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm saving that for later."
Draco Malfoy, lounging by the fireplace with Crabbe and Goyle, snorted in amusement but didn't say anything. Pansy and a drunken Daphne were seated nearby, their eyes widening in surprise when they saw Fred's condition.
"Merlin, what happened to him?" Daphne slurred, but Lyra ignored the questions, pulling Fred along.
"I'll explain later," she muttered under her breath as she dragged Fred up the staircase toward the girls' dormitory, earning a few more curious stares from the Slytherins.
Finally, they reached Lyra's dorm. She pushed the door open and practically shoved Fred inside, slamming it behind them. Fortunately the dorm was empty, something she didn't expect due to the earlier situations where she had walked in on multiple people shagging.
Fred slumped down on the nearest chair, wincing as the pain began to set in.
Lyra crossed the room to grab a wet cloth and a few healing salves from her dresser, then knelt down in front of Fred, her face mere centimeters away from his.
"You're an idiot," she said bluntly, dabbing the cut on his lip with the wet cloth.
Fred hissed at the sting but remained still. "Probably," he muttered. "But he had it coming."
"Yeah, maybe," Lyra admitted. "But that doesn't mean you had to go at him like that."
Fred chuckled despite the pain, though it came out more like a grimace. "You're one to talk."
Lyra's lips twitched downwards at his comment, but she remained silent.
She worked in silence for a few more moments, cleaning the blood from his face and tending to his knuckles. Fred watched her carefully, noticing the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way she was surprisingly gentle.
"There," she said finally, standing up and tossing the bloodied cloth into the bin. "You'll live."
Fred leaned back in the chair, wincing slightly. "Thanks."
Lyra crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. "Don't mention it. Literallyâdon't mention it, to anyone. You're not special, I would've done this for anyone."
"No you wouldn't."Â Fred grinned, through his busted lip. For a minute, he just stared at her, his eyes red and teary. A small forming bruise was plastered across his cheekbone, and he had a small cut on his nose.
Lyra was taken aback by the sudden eye contact as and the tension filled the air.
He suddenly lifted his hand, reaching for her face. She had some blood splattered under on her cheekbone, which he carefully removed using his finger.
Lyra held her breath by the physical contact, and her face kind of rested against his touch.
Suddenly, a drunk Daphne and a Ravenclaw student came stumbling in, giggling like little girls.
"Oh, oh, looks like this room is occupied." Daphne giggled loudly, sending a wink towards Lyra, before tumbling onto the floor. The Ravenclaw watched as she fell, sending Lyra an apologetic smile before walking away.
Lyra quickly stood up, breathing out as she went over to her friend.
"How much did you have to drink." Lyra sighed as she stared down at her friend.
"A glass of water." Daphne giggled back.
Lyra sighed. "I think it's time for you to rest." She said as she lifted the girl up, walking her to the dorms bathroom.
"The party's over, you should leave." Lyra muttered to Fred, avoiding eye contact with the bruised boy.
He lingered for a moment before standing up slowly, making his way out. He cursed under his breath.
He was so confused right now.
Fuck.
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