Justify

Another kind of cutesy one. I considered pairing Angelina up with only one of the twins, but they really are a package deal. Besides, it was interesting playing with each of their personalities, illustrating how they can be very similar yet entirely different all at the same time. I think I make it pretty clear here which twin Angelina is favoring at this point, but the whole romance bit isn't really what I was trying to develop. Yeah, the twins and Lee Jordan were always really close, but I just feel that they mesh really well with Angelina. They're all the same age, have known each other from the start, share a love a Quidditch, and she just really seems to get the two of them. So yes, enough rambling and on to the actual story.

Angelina was tired. Constantly, completely tired, of everyone and everything. At first she'd been thrilled when McGonagall offered her the position as Gryffindor captain; it was what she'd spent years working towards, wasn't it? Visions of what she'd accomplish at the task still flew through her mind: a sense of satisfaction after the perfect practice, respect from her teammates, a chance to develop her leadership skills…but, more importantly, an escape. refocus of her attention away from the all-too-impending advent of her entrance into the world as a responsible, mature adult. An opportunity to just lose herself in the game she loved.

But she was ruining it. She finally could relate to Oliver Wood – becoming Quidditch captain changed a person. The pressure was enormous, a constantly looming cloud that alternated between mocking her with the possibility of failure and flinging insults that she wasn't good enough, that someone more worthy should hold the post. Angelina was typically a confident individual, but her insecurities found a comfortable resting place in her worries as captain. She refused to let her teammates down and it was showing through her fear.

That morning's practice had been a particularly nasty one. She found it frustratingly difficult to find the proper balance between training the new members and working on developing the skills of the old. In the end, she snapped at everyone, proving that at the very least she was fair in dishing out her irritation. She hated to be angry, hated how it managed to retaliate back at those around her even though she really was only mad at herself. It wasn't fair to them, but she hadn't a clue how to stop it.

As she made her way wearily back to the castle, she became aware of two familiar bodies flanking her. She instantly knew who it was, but didn't speak, afraid they would be reasonably furious with how she'd treated them. She found herself pleasantly surprised when they willingly approached her.

"Well, that was hell, wasn't it?" Fred began cheerfully, draping an arm around her shoulder. Years of classes with the twins, including interaction on the Quidditch pitch and a slight attraction to both at various points in time, gave her the ability to tell them apart easily. No matter how alike the two seemed, they were each their own individual and appreciated, however diffidently, that she treated them so.

Angelina grimaced slightly at Fred's words but she didn't deny them. Her life had started to feel a lot like hell recently, particularly after practices. Certainly hell couldn't be any worse, at the very least. "To put it bluntly, yes, yes it was."

"What's the matter, anyway?" George asked touching her arm slightly. She did everything in her power to ignore the light tingle across her skin that radiated fiercely from the spot where their bodies connected, but knew it was another item to add to the list of 'things Angelina was failing at recently.' Fighting to regain her ability to speak, she shrugged her shoulders dejectedly.

"I don't know. It's just…hard. Harder than I expected. Would I shock you completely if I said I feel I can finally relate to Wood?"

Fred clasped a hand over his heart dramatically, feigning surprise. "Angelina Johnson, bane of Oliver Wood since the day she stepped on the Hogwarts pitch, able to relate? Someone, quick, owl the Prophet – we've finally found them some decent news to report!"

"Shut it," she grunted, shoving him away, but secretly she was grateful. The Weasley twins always managed to find ways to cheer her up. "I just…get it now, you know? All the pressure he put on himself to win. I can understand now, that's all."

"You're doing great, by the way," George interjected, grinning genuinely. "As captain, I mean. When you aren't screaming your head off about our incompetence, at least."

She groaned, lowering her face into her hands. "I am a terrible, terrible human being. Maybe I should just pass it off on somebody else."

"But Ang, you've only been dreaming of becoming captain since the day you were sorted into Gryffindor," Fred stated, his tone shockingly serious. "You can't just give it up now. We need you."

"What you need is for me to stop acting like a right bitch," she replied, eliciting amused yet acquiescing chuckles from the boys. She wondered for half a second whether she should share her fears with them before her mouth made the choice for her. "I'm just afraid of letting everyone down."

"Angelina." George refused to continue until she met his eyes, an interesting feat for a trio who was attempting to walk uphill on an uneven surface. "You will make a great Quidditch captain. You're organized, intuitive, quick thinking, and patient most of the time. You just need to relax and let yourself do what you've already mastered."

She smiled tentatively up at the freckled redhead, grateful yet again that blushes refused to show up well against her dark skin. "Thanks for that. Honestly. I've been feeling pretty sorry for myself lately."

"Not you too," Fred groaned, mocking dejected. "It's gotten worse than Azkaban with how glum it's been around here lately. 'Bout time we livened things up, eh, Georgie?"

"Couldn't agree more, brother dear," George replied with a smirk. Angelina rolled her eyes, but a smile still crept unwillingly to her lips.

"Just don't do anything to ruin our chances at the cup, you hear?" she demanded as they entered the great hall. "We can't afford any unnecessary risks."

"You really are becoming Wood," Fred muttered wonderingly, ignoring her scowl. "Just don't talk constantly about strategy and our opponents, all right? I'm not sure if I could handle it from you too. I really dislike the idea of wanting to constantly throttle you."

As she glided ahead of them to the Gryffindor table, she gifted them with a smirk to match their own. "I'll make no promises!"