A/N: I started this story over the summer and wrote a few "chapters" in one sitting since they're based on Pinky Green's "10 Things Challenge." Having said that, updates may be slow b/c I didn't write everything at once and school keeps me incredibly busy nowadays.
Also, the rating for this story will go up later on in that I'll attempt my first fanfiction-based "mature" scene.
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Intertwine
It was an extraordinary store, there was no denying that. Against the dreary grey and white set of winter, cast against the bleakness of Diagon Alley, anyone could easily find Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Its bright colors dazzled passer-byers to enter beneath the familiar hat-tipping redhead. Angelina Johnson smiled at the ostentatious figure above the store's entrance. The twins knew how to advertise big.
Hands buried deep in her coat's pockets, Angelina tipped her own head to prevent a sharp gust of wind from slapping her cheeks too roughly. Very few witches and wizards were out on this frosty afternoon, surely lulled back under blankets or beds or wherever possible by the bitter weather. Angelina was unlike most other witches and wizards, however, when she was determinedly on a quest. And today's quest was to pay an overdue visit to her entrepreneurial friends.
Briskly striding the last few feet, she was greeted by a sign on the store window: Temporarily closed--store inventory. Bugger off. She sighed. Definitely a Fred sign. So she did what she always did whenever anything came down to Fred. She completely disregarded his request and knocked anyway.
A few minutes passed. Angelina stomped her boots, falling back into Quidditch routine jumps that kept her body in motion and warmer than standing still. No sound lurked near the door. Glaring at the sign, she banged her fist more violently against the door. Nothing. Cupping her hands, she peered into the window's glass to look for movement. A-ha! she said out loud when she spotted a red head move along a shelf. But the head kept moving away from the door, clearly ignoring her knocking protests. Growing more impatient, Angelina reached into her purse and pulled out a small object: a cute, little owl figurine. She lifted the door's mail slot and slid the small object inside the store. Within seconds of its floor impact, the owl sprung to life and burst into an utterly annoying (and distinctively Mrs. Weasley-sounding) voice that commanded "WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" The red head stopped, obviously startled by the sound, and had only a moment before the owl landed sharply on his head. The toy proceeded to jump on his head, up and down, up and down, pecking to the beat of "WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" as barely-visible red hair was joined by flailing hands grabbing at the nuisance. Grinning, Angelina resumed pounding eagerly on the door. The head presently headed her way and she heard a distinct sound as the door was unlocked by a spell.
"Can't you read? Shop's closed! Nutter sending my own products on me," a Weasley voice shouted.
"Well that's what you get for not letting a lady in on a cold day like today. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" Angelina responded with amusement, shaking extra snow off her coat before stepping fully into the store.
A freckled Weasley face appeared from around the corner at the sound of the sarcastic voice. "Blimey, Angie?"
"Certainly isn't St. Nick. I'm neither the gender nor the complexion for that!" she laughed.
Fred Weasley grinned broadly, dropping his stack of paperwork onto a nearby counter to rush toward Angelina. In one swift move, his arms were around her waist as he spun her in an enthusiastic hug.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming today? We're not open! And George isn't even here; he went home to help Mum and Dad with some things."
"You mean George left you? With work? Alone?"
"What? S'not like I can't handle it!" he replied defensively.
She crossed her arms. "You serious? Come on, Fred, what d'you do to piss him off this time?"
Fred closed his eyes. "Let's not ruin this moment with your astute awareness of my work habits. What're you doing here?"
She shrugged. "I haven't been by the shop since you lot were getting it off the ground. Figured I'd come by before the holidays kick in and it gets even more difficult to see you…and George, of course." She looked around the store and despite the few lights that Fred had kept on, let alone most of the merchandise being left off; the store was still throbbing with that undercurrent of Weasley energy. She could imagine phantom Hogwarts students and young children mulling around the store, captivated by the Weasley goods. "It's brilliant, Fred. I can't believe how far this place has come." She directed a warm smile his way, saying, "I'm so proud of you two."
"And to think that this place wouldn't be such without you, to an extent," said Fred.
"Me? What'd I do?"
"All those years of helping us test out new ideas."
"Right. 'Test,'" she mimicked with finger quotes, "As though I had any choice. I was a proper guinea pig, wasn't I?"
Fred chuckled as he moved a small box from a stack of many boxes, setting it on the counter near the papers. The box opened with the flick of his wand. "You weren't *just* a guinea pig and you know it. You caused some damage yourself to the student body." Fred shot her a dirty look. "And no bother denying it."
"All right then. I won't. Not nearly as much as I was the target of said damage."
Fred took a light tug on a strand of her hair, most of which still hid under her bargain cap. "You were a brilliant guinea pig, then. Excellent, even. Sorry, let me get your coat," he added. Slipping out of it, Angelina pulled her cap off and tucked it into a coat pocket. Curly black locks fell onto her shoulder as her bangs fell across her eyes. When Fred returned from the coat rack, he skimmed her appearance.
"What?" she asked, catching the glance.
"I like the new look." Angelina wore boots over her jeans, paired with a layered tank and sweater that hugged her curves in a way that Fred could fully appreciate.
"Ah, the Fred Ogle," she identified. "Two can play this game," she added, crossing her arms and overtly running her eyes along his body. In jeans and a dress shirt under a sweater, Fred had a way to make "casual" still look annoyingly distracting to her. "Meh, you're okay."
Ignoring her tone, he continued to say, "I have a little bit of work left I've been meaning to do before heading to the Burrows. You want to grab a butter beer or something before I leave for good?"
"Sure! Anything I can do to help with the store stuff?"
"Only if you don't mind reprising said guinea pig role."
She brushed imaginary dust off of her hands. "You kidding? It's been my fantasy for quite some time. Oh, wait!" She found a hair tie in her pocket and pulled her hair into a ponytail. "There. Ready! Ooh, unless you've got goggles and some knee pads."
"Sorry, they're amiss in this sea of new inventory."
"Damn."
"All right, I'll show you one of our latest, then." He fiddled with an object in the opened box, patting the counter space next to him. Angelina closed the gap between them and hopped onto the counter.
"What's this?" she asked, dangling her legs as she peaked into the box.
"You'll figure it out. We're still developing the prototype. Thinkin' about what to call it. Here," he said as he handed her what looked like a tube. She stared at it inquisitively.
"Curious little thing," she said more to herself.
He watched her fiddle with it for a short while, taking a few notes while her attention was elsewhere. "How long's it been, Ange?" he asked suddenly.
She looked up from the device, but his eyes remained on the paper. "Too long, I know," she replied softly.
"Honestly, I don't know if I would've recognized you on the street, the way you look now," Fred admitted, his eyes darting from hers to her figure to the test product to his clipboard.
"Feeling's mutual. Well, that's not true. I think I could recognize a Weasley anywhere with the locks you all carry." Just as she reached out to touch his hair playfully, the tube sprung to life; an explosion of string spun from the cylinder and wrapped around Angelina. Due to Fred's close proximity, the strings proceeded to wrap around him, too, sending them both flying onto the ground. Luckily for Angelina, Fred cushioned her fall. Unluckily for Fred, he wasn't expecting this to happen at all.
"DAMNIT!" he shouted when his head hit the ground.
"Motherfumpher," Angelina groaned, though her profanity was muffled by Fred's shoulder. "Fred...what the HELL just happened?"
"You got the prototype to work. Oww..."
Angelina tried to pull away from Fred's shoulder, but the strings acted like tight elastic bands that made separation difficult, if not impossible. She was trapped against Fred's body and vice versa.
"Fred? What the hell is this thing for?"
"Defensive gadget. Someone steal your purse or the like and this goes off when they touch it. Makes it obvious they've been up to no good."
"Well that's all bloody well good except I'm not a bloody thief!" Angelina managed to get her hands on either side of Fred and worked herself into a push-up position. She glared down at Fred. "You knew this was going to happen!"
Fred shook his head. "That you would get caught, yes! The point wasn't for me to get caught with you, too!" A dreamy film covered his eyes. "But maybe for you to get caught in this lovely little bondage scene, all defenseless and in need of rescuing."
"You naughty boy!" she scolded, trying to blow her bangs out of her face. "What's the safety trigger for this?" she asked as she pushed harder. She only flopped back onto his stomach.
"Oomph! Damn, Angie."
"Sorry, sorry," she apologized.
"It's new. We haven't figured out the 'turn off' switch yet. So we're gonna need my wand."
"Well, where is it?"
"In my back pocket."
Angelina stared into his eyes. "Seriously or you just tugging my chain."
He stared back with a straight face. "Of course I'm serious, Ange. I want to get out of this, too."
She sighed. "Okay, well, this is a problem. How do we do this?"
"How about I roll over and get on top..."
Her cheeks flared a little. "Watch it, Weasley."
"...Which will give you easier access to pull it out," he finished.
"Word choice!" she muttered, blush growing stronger.
"You know what I mean, pervert," he teased.
"All right. Not much choice, is there?"
"Not unless you want to stay on this cold floor forever," Fred complained. His backside was very frigid on the cold tile while his front, pressed tightly against Angelina, was the temperature of an active volcano. It was a highly uncomfortable and volatile situation.
"Let's switch places, then. Just don't crush me," she added.
"Love, I'm seeing one of my best friends since ages. Last thing I'm going to do is kill you." His blue eyes were reassuring and sweet in this sincere confession. "Now, here we go."
With a few awkward shifts, Fred successfully gained the top position. And he couldn't let the opportunity pass, of course. "All right, grope me. But please, be gentle," he added playfully before dramatically squeezing his eyes closed.
Angelina laughed. "And the truth comes out. You just want me to frisk you, huh?" Her dominant hand had found the wand in his pocket; she tugged on the wood until it eased out of its secured spot in Fred's jeans.
"Guess I'm the true S&M person here, heavy on the 'Mmm.'"
"Fred, focus. Can you move your hand closer to mine? I'll hand over your wand that way."
"Sure." Wiggling his hands within the restraining ropes, Fred's hand sought hers. "Here, you don't even have to let it go. Just hold it," he added, encasing her hand within his larger one. It was warm. She felt her pulse leap straight into her palm; great, I'd hoped this feeling would at least wait till I left to kick in, she berated herself.
He spoke a small incantation and Angelina felt the ropes slacken before recoiling with lightning speed back into the cylinder. The sudden and unexpected retraction caught both parties off guard, especially as some of the magical ropes smacked Fred in the head, and his weight fell heavily onto Angelina. She shifted carefully under him, growing uneasily aware of wherever her curves touched his muscles. But before she realized her hand's mission, it was carefully caressing the back of his head where he had been struck. And as he groaned at the room's sudden spinning motion, he barely caught the soft groan of pleasure that escaped him due to her hand's soothing touch. Once he realized the sound had come from him, he immediately checked her reaction. Huh, had her eyes always been such a pure shade of brown? When had she gotten so much more... Damnit, why were those familiar pangs hitting him, the kind he couldn't control? When had his face gotten so close to hers? And why couldn't he keep himself from…
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