It wasn’t that Fred Weasley didn’t know who you were. You were always there. In the common room, curled up in the armchair by the fire. At the Gryffindor table, laughing quietly at things no one else seemed to notice. In the corridors, pressed against the wall as Fred and George Weasley barreled past with another half-baked idea. He knew your name. Of course he did. He just… never looked. And you? You noticed everything. You noticed the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, how his voice dropped just slightly when he was planning something mischievous. You noticed the way he always stood half a step ahead of George, like he was leading—even when they were perfectly in sync. You noticed him in ways he would never notice you. At least, that’s what you thought