curly font

The Boy Who Broke the Record - Fred Weasley au

Hello, I’m Callie and i’m the new Co-Admin. So, I have had this idea for a bit and have been working on it for a while. First of all, I’m just going to warn you that Fred does not appear until the end of this chapter, just because the backstory is SUPER important for this story and for the ***^character development^***. Please let me know if you want me to continue this, I have a lot of really good ideas for it and I would love to play them out!! So enjoy :)) (Also keep in mind that this is an american, non-magical au)

Heads turned as she walked through the school wearing the uniform she was so proud of. The black pants hugged tight at her thighs and the crimson red shirt had the words Westerburg Lions in curly font across the front. She sauntered with her shoulders back and head held high. It was moments like these when Rhiannon felt like she belonged, like she mattered. Today was the playoff game that would take the school softball team to the national championships and it was all anyone could talk about. Softball was the school’s favorite sport to pay attention to in the spring season and it’s only gotten more popular. Despite all of the positive attention the sport gets, Rhiannon was never the popular type, so the whispers and admiring glances thrown in her direction were a nice change. She let the eager whispers carry her all the way to the back doors, where the softball diamond sat just beyond a dusty gray fence.

“Hey.” The blonde haired girl popped up next to her. She also wore the red uniform and tight black baseball pants.

“Hey Alice.” Rhiannon stated, as the girl smiled at her. “You ready for today?” Rhiannon smiled and rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

“Hell yeah!” she chuckled, her ponytail swaying behind her. “Oh hey!” She hit Rhi’s shoulder softly with her hand, “I thought I should tell you that there are going to be scouts from UCLA watching the game. Rumor has it that they’re scouting for pitchers.” Alice gave a wide smile, being Rhiannon’s best friend, she was always looking out for her and her future. Alice was Rhiannon’s favorite person in the entire world and the fact that this news came from her lifted her spirits.

Rhiannon could feel her heart pound against her chest so hard at the prospect of pitching on the UCLA softball team, that she thought it might jump out of her chest. She couldn’t help but let the smile creep onto her face as she turned to Alice with wide and excited eyes, “Pitchers? Are they here to scout me?”

Alice shrugged and gave a wry smile. “Either way, they’re going to love you.” She smiled and gave Rhiannon a hug. “I’m going to go warm up, wanna come?” Rhiannon nodded.

They both hopped over the fence that separated the outfield from the school’s back door and walked across the field to where the team was warming up. The team greeted them happily and made competitive small talk while throwing a ball back and forth, each time getting farther and farther apart. Rhiannon smiled at the team, filled with joy at being able to play the sport.

“OK ladies huddle up!” the coach called them over with a loud yell and a whistle. We run to her, a competitive look plastered on our faces. “I want a good game today. We’re here to win!” She raised her fist into the air with pride. “We’re the home team, so let’s get our gloves and hit that field!” We all run onto the field and she claps us each on the back as we leave the dugout.

Rhiannon walks up to the pitcher’s mound, her cleats making a familiar scraping sound as she walked. She stood there and glanced around the stands. Her eyes fell on a group of individuals in suits, looking at her and whispering. Her heart skipped a beat and she took a deep breath in, preparing to throw her first of three warm up pitches. She winds up and sends the first directly into Alice’s glove, which is waiting just behind home plate. The next two find their way to the same spot, and Rhiannon smirks confidently.

She watches the first batter step up to the plate. She’s a tall girl with medium brown hair and broad shoulders. Rhiannon waves her hand in the air to tell her team to back up, she would be a big hitter. The batter smirks and wiggles the bat, stomping her feet like an angry bull. Rhiannon bent down and rubbed the warm dirt on her hands before slipping her hand back into the glove. She winded the pitch up and released it. There was the familiar sound of the bat hitting the ball and Rhiannon watched as the batter took of running, but the ball reached our first baseman before she could. One down, two to go. The next two batters were easy strikeouts and the top of the inning was over after about seven minutes.

Rhiannon walked to check the lineup and saw that she was first to bat. She smiled, grabbing her helmet, batting gloves, and Easton bat. She slipped the gloves on then slapped the helmet on. Rhiannon watched the pitcher take her three warmup pitches and then she headed up to the plate. She smirked, spinning her yellow and black bat in her hand. Rhiannon watched the pitcher wind up and got ready to swing at the ball. The pitcher released it and Rhiannon swung with her full force, hearing the bat make contact she turns and takes off running.

Rhiannon hit first base at full speed and then rounded it, seeing that the ball was still in the outfield, she knew she could make it. As she rounds first, the base slips from the support that holds it and Rhiannon slides to the ground. She hears an aching crack and watches as her left hip takes an unnatural position. The pain is as blinding as the grotesque position her leg has taken. Her hip, which was once aligned with her torso, was now pushing to the far left, leaving a large hump-like bump on her side. She cried out in pain before losing consciousness.

3 Months Later

“OK Rhiannon, how has the pain been recently?” Abby, her physical therapist says as she moves her hip around in a small circle.

She winces. “Fine, the discomfort is still there but I can walk normally.” Rhiannon’s voice was monotone and sad, with a hint of pain from the exercises.

“Good.” Abby smiles and takes her hands off of Rhiannon’s leg. “I have a suggestion that you are going to like.” Rhiannon raises a curious eyebrow. “I think it’s time for you to start playing sports again.”

Ever since her accident, Rhiannon has not been able to do anything that might stress her hip or legs. For a short time this included walking, so she was confined to a wheelchair, and when she wasn’t in the wheelchair she was in her bed, staring at the ceiling fan go in circles. But the recovery wasn’t the issue for Rhiannon, the issue was that she would never play softball again, and if she did she would never play just the same. She knew that this ‘sport’ Abby had mentioned would be nothing but an attempt to get her mind off of the activity she should be doing.

“I think that you should join your school’s swim team.” Rhiannon sighed, somehow let down. “I know it’s not softball hun, but it will help you hip and it might get you an almost full recovery.” Abby sighed and began writing a note. “Here, take this and give it to your school’s swim coach. I want you to start tomorrow.” She handed Rhiannon a yellow note with specific instructions on the care of her hip. “You’re done sweetie, go on home and rest.”

Rhiannon scoffed. “Rest from what.” she grabbed her bag and checked out, thanking Abby with a flat tone.

The ride home was quiet, her mother stopped asking her about the sessions a long time ago, so they rode the 10 minutes back home in silence. Rhiannon fiddled with the yellow note in her hand. How is swimming going to do anything for me? She sighed, getting out of the car as soon as her mother pulled into the driveway.

She went into her room and checked the clock. It read 8:30pm. Rhiannon undressed and got in her comfortable house clothes, flinching as she lifted her leg to put on her pant leg. She then collapsed on her bed and watched the familiar ceiling fan take its noble course.

Monday 3pm

Rhiannon’s day had gone as it usually does now that she doesn’t play softball. She stays the whole school day, unable to leave and escape to the field. The bell rings, releasing them from the tedious lessons and lectures. She sighs, opening the locker at the end of the hall and placing her books in it. Her eyes fall to the bag filled with a towel and swim gear. Today would be the first day that she attended a swim team practice. She picked up the bag and marched down the stairs that led to the pool beneath the gym.

She enters the slightly humid area and is confronted with the sound of chatter coming from the changing rooms on either end of the pool. Rhiannon finds the girls room and enters. She’s greeted with several unfamiliar faces.

“Uhm hi.” Rhiannon say, brushing her short brown hair out of her face.

“Hi!” a girl with curly brown hair says. “I’m Sarah. I’m the female captain of the team. We knew you’d be coming today.” She smiles slightly. “You can set your bag on one of the benches and change. We’re going to be at dryland in 15.”

“Oh uhm, I’m Rhiannon and thanks.” Rhi smiled softly and turned to change.

She changes rather quickly before putting all of her things back into her bag so that they don’t get wet. She opens the door and glances around, seeing several people setting out blue yoga mats. Stretching. Rhiannon sighs, walking over to the mats in her plain back swimsuit. She pulls one out and sits on the squishy blue surface.

“Hi.” a voice says from above her. She raises her eyes and is greeted by a tall red-headed boy. She stands.

“Uhm hi.” she smiles slightly. The boy was a good 8 inches taller than her, as she stood at only 5’2 ½. He had a lean build, but strong arms and legs.

“I’m Fred Weasley. I’m the male team captain.” He gives her a wide smile, displaying a row of pearly white teeth.

“I’m Rhiannon Goodman.” She smiled, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. What has gotten into me.

“It’s good to have you on the team.” He looks Rhi up and down, pausing on her left hip. “I was sorry to hear about your accident. I’ve seen you play. You’re really excellent.” He gave a sweet smile.

She was a bit taken back. No one had been so straightforward about her accident. She was accustomed to sideways glances, and whispers, and vague ‘how are you doing’s. She inhaled before speaking. “Yeah, it sucks. Not being able to do what you love.” she replied, not wanting to get into the details.

“Well maybe you’ll find something else that you love.” He smiled at her one more time before walking to his own mat, hesitating a moment. Her heart pounded against her chest.

She sighed, sitting down and exhaling. Huh. He glanced behind him one more time, making eye contact with her and smiling. 


I really hope you enjoyed this heaping piece of garbage. Please let me know if you want me to continue it (which I will probably do regardless). THanks :)

- Callie (@pansiparkinsn)

the only snaps I ever receive are from strangers and it’s always an android video of them watching anime or a screenshot of anime and they type over it with the curly looking font :( please stop subjecting me to this Hell