JM

Fred Weasley has spent six years insisting Y/N is just a mate. One of the bros. Sure, she’s pretty. Sure, he occasionally stares. And sure, seventh-year Y/N came back from summer looking unfairly fucking good—but that doesn’t mean anything. Then someone suggests strip pong at the first big party of their final year. Y/N starts losing. Fred stops laughing. And George realizes he’s about to have the most entertaining year of his life. Between drunken parties, spectacularly bad decisions, inconvenient jealousy, and Fred’s increasingly pathetic attempts to prove he absolutely does not fancy one of his closest friends, seventh year is about to get complicated. Because apparently it takes Fred Weasley six years and one missing shirt to realize— One of the bros, my arse.