Author's Note: That's right. It's a fanfic named after a Flogging Molly song.
Okay, so here's what's going down: I wrote this for FairyAngel24. It's a Fred/Cho fanfic. I found out that this really is a very sweet pairing, and I like it a lot. This story is a little bit of everything, I guess. It's AU (Fred isn't dead), it's fluff, it's angst, it's humor... I don't know if this is all a good thing, but that's how it came out.
So, FairyAngel24, I really hope you like this. It was really fun to write!
(And Zach - where are you right now? Leave me a comment and let me know.)
Name: Drunken Lullabies
Pairing: Fred/Cho (Harry Potter)
Genre: Romance, flangst, humor, AU
Rating: PG-13
Drunken Lullabies
Fred Weasley had not walked into a bar in ten years, and he had not seen Cho Chang for fifteen. So it was rather surprising for him when he went into a Muggle bar for a drink and found a haggard-looking Cho seated on a stool with a beer in her hand and mascara running down her cheeks.
“Well, this is interesting,” Fred said, climbing onto a stool beside Cho. She turned to him, her face blank. “How’ve you been, Cho?”
“Oh, Fred,” she said, her voice toneless. “Nice to see you.”
“So I can see,” Fred replied. He waved to the bartender and ordered a beer. “You look… Healthy.”
Cho snorted. “Don’t even try, Fred. I know I look like hell.”
“Thank God. That was a lie I didn’t feel like telling for the next hour.” Fred took a swig.
“You’re no oil painting yourself,” Cho snapped. “You’ve really gone downhill, haven’t you?”
“You know, as pleasant as this conversation is,” Fred growled, “I’d prefer to drink my problems away in silence, thanks.”
“Fine by me,” Cho replied coolly. “I didn’t ask for your company.”
“Fine.”
The two sipped at their beers, neither talking or looking at each other. The only sounds were an old jukebox, the clacking of pool balls, and drunks arguing over something they wouldn’t even remember the next day. Finally, Cho turned to Fred.
“I left my husband.”
“Ah, so that’s why you’re here,” Fred said easily. He shook his head. “I don’t see why women always get so upset after they leave their men. It should be the guys who are upset.”
Cho glared. “He was cheating on me with Pansy Parkinson.”
“Oh.” Fred took a sip of beer. “How is Pansy, by the way?”
“Seems pretty happy fucking my husband.” Cho snapped her fingers for another drink. “So, why are you here? Do you have a sob story too, or are you just a raging alcoholic?”
“You know, you’re so charming when you’re devastated,” Fred said with a sarcastic smile. “And my wife left me, thanks for asking.”
Cho took a sip. “Who were you sleeping with?” It wasn’t an accusation, just a question.
“My wife,” Fred replied. He paused for a moment. “But so was my brother.”
Cho snorted. “My, my, my. What a sordid little story. Which brother?”
“George,” Fred answered heavily. He took a chug. “Yep, Angelina Johnson, the love of my life. We had a little Fred and Fredina together. At least, I thought we did. It wasn’t till a week ago that I found out that they were a little George and Georgina. Now, after I raised them for three years, they’re calling George ‘daddy’ and me ‘uncle’.” He turned to Cho with a chuckle, pointing at her. “Wow. My story’s way more pathetic than yours.”
Cho looked deeply offended. “It is not!”
“Is too,” Fred snickered. He ordered another beer. “My wife cheated on me and had three kids fathered by my twin brother. That’s an entire season of Days of Our Lives, little lady. Your husband cheated on you. That’s, what, one side-story on Desperate Housewives? Give me a break.”
“Well, if you’re gonna be such a damn bitch about it, I guess I’ll leave and wallow elsewhere,” Cho growled. She reached for her purse.
Fred grabbed her purse strap and pulled it towards himself. “Oh, come on,” he said seriously. “Don’t pretend this isn’t making you feel better. I’m just letting the healing begin.” He also tugged Cho’s stool closer. “All right, start talking, love. Go through every event that brought you here. I’m absolutely fascinated.” He plunked his chin down on his intertwined fingers in a very Dumbledore-like way.
Cho nodded. “Okay, okay.” She smirked. “You know, I am just drunk enough to go along with this.”
Fred waved her on. “Of course. Nothing wrong with depression-fueled drinking.” He thought for a moment. “You’ve left out one very important detail, I’ve just realized. Who’d you marry?”
Cho rolled her eyes dramatically, taking a large swallow of beer. “Ernie Macmillan. The Hufflepuff. ‘True and loyal’ my ass.”
Fred grinned. “Getting more and more interesting. Okay, love, start with, say, three days ago. Let’s hear Tuesday morning and go on from there.”
Cho took a sip and chuckled. “You know,” she said, pointing at Fred, “it actually started Tuesday morning.”
“Did it now?”
“Yes, it did.” Cho sighed, still chuckling. “Oh. I cannot believe how blind I was, you know? I really ought to have noticed before then. There were all the pathetically obvious signs. There was literally lipstick on his bloody collar!” She was now laughing so hard that she had started gasping. “Lipstick! For Christ’s sake! And the perfume, and the phone messages, and all of the mysterious purchases of jewelry…” She quieted and shook her head, still giggling every once in a while. “I guess I figured I could trust him after he stayed with me.” She looked over at Fred. She was still smiling, but she also looked a little sad. “He always wanted kids. Did you know that? He always did. He told me that when we started dating.” Cho looked down at the floor. “Then, a little while after we were married, I found out that I’m sterile.”
“Oh.” Fred’s smirk was gone. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m… I’m really sorry. I didn’t know…”
Cho waved her hand. “No, it’s fine. Honestly.” She looked back up, her faint smile stuck soundly on her face. “I would’ve thought that, after that, nothing would pull us apart. Yet, looking back, I can see that we had differences, even with that. I wanted to adopt, really. I thought that would be a fantastic idea. But Ernie didn’t want to. He said it wouldn’t be ours.” She laughed bitterly. “You’d think that if he was so bloody worried about what was ours, he’d have realized that our marriage wasn’t a multi-person affair. But hey, what do I know? Because after all, he always had all the answers. Oh yes, Ernie knew everything about everything, he did.”
Fred gave a grunt of exasperation. “Yeah, he was always that way, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, he was. But, on to Tuesday morning.”
“Yes, of course. Please, continue with the story of your sad, pathetic life.”
“Watch yourself, Weasley. Anyway, Tuesday morning, I woke up the way I usually do – wrapped around my husband. Or at least, I thought I was wrapped around my husband. It took a moment, but then it hit me – Ernie doesn’t have boobs. At least, not the kind of boobs I was grabbing at. Nor did he have a bob haircut.
“Believe it or not, I still didn’t quite get it. I laid there, eyes closed, grabbing a pair of boobs, and wondering why in the hell Ernie had never told me that he liked dressing in drag. And then I thought, ‘Why, these are some terrifically made false breasts, they feel just like the real thing!’ And that’s about when I opened my eyes to see Pansy Parkinson staring down at me as if I was out of my mind.”
“Wow. What’d you do then?”
“Well, I did what most women would do: I jumped up and started to screaming at the naked bitch to get the hell out of my bed. Of course, then, she started screaming at me, saying it was her boyfriend’s bed and she couldn’t figure out why I was laying there.”
“I bet that one threw you for a loop,” Fred snickered. He looked down at his empty beer. “Wow, I am gonna need something way stronger than this.” He turned back to Cho. “You want a scotch?”
“No, thanks. I wouldn’t say no to a martini, though.” She waited to bite into the olive from her martini before continuing her story. “Where was I? Oh, right. I guess they’d come in after I’d already fallen asleep, and I didn’t wake up, so he we hadn’t noticed each other, right? Right. So, here the two of us are, screaming our lungs out at each other, and in walks Ernie, butt-naked and looking completely bewildered. Finally, he points at me and says, ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’”
“Oh, no!” Fred howled. “He didn’t!”
Cho gave him a fierce look before cracking up as well. “Yes, he did. He actually pointed at his wife and asked her why she was asleep in her own bed.” She giggled. “I think my face said it all right about then, because his eyes got huge and he pointed at Pansy, saying, ‘I mean… Oi! What are you doing here?’”
Fred was crying with laughter, hunched over his scotch. “Just how stupid does he think you are?” he asked incredulously. “I just can’t get over this guy! Honestly…”
Cho snorted, chugging her martini. “He is pretty unbelievable, I’ll admit. And I mean that in the worst way possible.” She smacked her lips. “God, that was an awful martini.”
“Forget about that,” Fred insisted, tossing the martini glass over his shoulder. It shattered, but neither of them turned to see the damage. “So, what happened then?”
“Long story short – too late, I know – both Pansy and I realized that we’d been cheated on by Ernie, who apparently liked to use that tiny pocket in his pants to hide his wedding ring when he was ‘out with the boys’. That was always his excuse. ‘I’m going for a drink with the boys.’ ‘I’ll be hanging out with the boys.’ ‘Calm down, honey! I was just out with the boys!’” She frowned. “Come to think of it, I never did ask who ‘the boys’ were.”
Fred leaned back, watching Cho closely with a small smile on his face. “So, how did Pansy react?”
Cho made a small hissing noise. “She was angry at me.”
“Dumb whore.”
“Yeah, I know. Stupid bitch has the audacity to be angry with me… Honestly…” Cho looked over at Fred, seeming to snap out of a trance. “Right. So, you said your wife cheated on you?”
“Yup. Found out last week. Spent all of this week in my bed, under the covers, crying.” Fred laughed bitterly, taking a deep drink of scotch. “I guess the revelation was a lot less, er, dramatic than the one you went through. Angelina walked into the room, handed me some divorce papers, and told me the whole story.”
“Really? That was it?”
“That was it.” Fred finished his scotch and stood. “This is pointless. Drinking isn’t making me feel any better.”
“Me neither,” Cho said, looking warily at her two empty beer bottles. “I’ve had three drinks and I don’t feel drunk at all.”
“You’re not gonna drive, are you?” Fred asked suspiciously, holding out a hand to help Cho off her stool.
Cho giggled, for real this time. “No, of course not. I live right down the street. And Ernie’s gone now. I’ll just go back there.” She looked down, clearing her throat. “Alone.”
Fred raised and lowered one shoulder, looking off to the side. “You know, I’ve been living out of a hotel ever since my break up,” he said with a light air of suggestion. “I could… You know… Go back there with you. You know, where I could sleep for free.”
Cho blinked, seeing through Fred’s façade with ease. “Why? And I mean seriously, why?”
“Well…” Fred could hardly believe it. He was blushing. Blushing! The boldest of the bold, the most shameless of the shameless, was blushing! He dropped his gaze, trying to hide it. He strode quickly out of the bar and into the dark street, pulling Cho with him. “I want to go back with you because I… I like you.”
Cho stared, then gave a very unlady-like snort. “What are we, kindergarteners? Are you going to give me a note that says ‘Do you like me?’ and have me circle yes or no now?”
Fred grinned widely, falling easily into the swing of things. “Yep. Come on, circle yes. I’ll give you my juice box if you’ll be my girlfriend.”
Cho rolled her eyes. “No. You probably can’t even get across the monkey bars. I need me a real man.”
“Please?” Fred whined. “Come on.”
“No.”
“Come on!”
“No.”
Fred pouted. “Come oooon!” he moaned. He poked Cho in the side, making her squeal. He lit up, poking her again.
“Fred, stop it!” she shrieked, jumping and staggering a little. She was laughing brightly, clutching her side. Fred grabbed her around the waist from behind and tickled her from both sides. She would have collapsed in hysterics if it hadn’t been for Fred’s support.
“Say uncle!” Fred laughed in her ear.
“Never!” Cho squealed.
Fred tickled her harder. Cho’s feet lifted off the ground as she struggled. “Say it!” Fred shouted. “Say it for me!”
“Uncle!” Cho bellowed, howling. “Uncle, uncle, uncle!”
Fred loosened his grip and let Cho slide out of his arms. She collapsed on the ground in a heap of tingling nerves and giggles. “You… Bastard…” she gasped through sniggers.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Fred admonished with a click of his tongue. He grabbed her wrists and lifted her to her feet. “Up we go now, there you are…”
Cho smiled, shaking her head. “Okay, fine. You can walk home with me. But I’m expecting that juice box. And no naps. I don’t take a nap with guys on the first date.”
“I wouldn’t a nap right now, anyway,” Fred said with a shrug. “I’ll just sleep on your couch, I won’t bother you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Can we at least have story time?”
“Throw in some milk and cookies and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Cho said. She suddenly looked shy. She reached out and gently, delicately put her palm against Fred’s.
Fred looked down at their hands for a long time before interlocking their fingers. For the first time, he didn’t have a smart ass comment, a wisecrack, or a prank in mind. All he did was lean in and brush his lips across Cho’s soft pale cheek. “Let’s go,” he said quietly. He squeezed her hand lightly. “I’ll pick you up that juice box on the way.”
The two of them passed under a streetlight and then disappeared into the darkness. Fred Weasley had never expected to walk into a bar and see Cho Chang sitting there, but he was definitely glad that he had.
