Author's Notes: This is going to be one of my most interesting fan-fictions… Well, in my opinion they all are, but this one more than most. That's because the chapters won't all be the same story; they'll be different stories, but all occurring in the same place. Well, they might be related, 'cause I might find I want to delve more into the characters, but don't expect it…
Be warned that there will probably be sexual content. *grin* Especially in The Slytherin Table…or maybe on it… Dirty mind, I know. I've tried to clean it, but…
Well, anyways, you don't even know what I'm talking about with TST, do you? Okay then. This is going to be a quartet, written in this order, but only probably. I might actually end up getting all the first chapters up at the same and then posting them sporadically, but… We'll see. Anyways, in this order: The Gryffindor Couch (which is this story), The Hufflepuff Room, The Ravenclaw Bookcase, and The Slytherin Table. They're in alphabetical order, if you were wondering. So be forewarned, updates may be extremely sporadic as I have to think of a new story for each chapter! Oh well…
Reviews are seriously considered, especially if you have any ideas!
Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with J.K. Rowling or her wonderful books, or Warner Bros. and their semi-wonderful (definitely Chamber of Secrets was better than Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone) movies, and I am not trying to make any profit of any kind…other than my reviews of course. *grin* But I doubt anyone besides me cares about those…
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April 29, 1996
Fred Weasley sighed, leaning back into the couch. It was rather comfortable, and for that he was grateful. It was too bloody stressful, all the practicing they were doing. You'd think that Angelina wouldn't be too harsh on him—considering they were dating—but then you would have thought wrong. She was a good coach, he had to admit. At least she wasn't as fanatical as Wood was… He shuddered. Just thinking about it made him want to piss in his pants.
Oliver Wood had been a very difficult captain, to say the least. To say the most… Oliver was a whip-yeilding son-of-a-bitch. Well, maybe he was being too harsh. After all, Wood just wanted to win. Just like anyone else in his position, especially considering his constant rivalry with Marcus Flint.
Fred grinned. Just Wood's luck that they would both be accepted to play for the same team, neither knowing until after each of them had signed five-year, impossible-to-get-out-of contracts. Everyone had known about it within, oh, five minutes? Oliver had panicked and cancelled dinner with his girlfriend (a nice Gryffindor girl who had been in his year, actually), and then holed up inside his room…
Meanwhile, Flint had been shouting his discontent from the rooftops.
Literally.
Fred had a hard time staying quiet while thinking about that.
Flint, who had rented an apartment in Diagon Alley, had, the second he found out, gone straight to his lawyer's office. And when he'd found out that his lawyer could do nothing—not to mention it had been the only offer Flint had gotten—he'd climbed the nearest rooftop and begun blasting people with charms.
All of which they were able to deflect, seeing as how the worst he could come up with in his fury were such classics as Jelly-Legs, Leg-Locker, Full Body Bind, and (this was the one that had everyone rolling on the floor with laughter) Alohomora. Fred grinned. Oh, how he wished he could have seen that one.
"Hello, mate," his twin brother said cheerfully, sitting down on the chair across from him.
"Hello Forge," Fred grinned.
"Aren't you sore?" George said, sighing wistfully. "Angelina worked us to the bone yesterday—even you."
"Well," Fred shrugged, "can't really blame her. We're up against Slytherin our next match, and they're getting good—plus they're desperate to win."
George snorted. "Not like they're going to. The only time we ever lost was when those bloody Dementors decided to blast Harry… And that's not going to happen again. Besides, she's your girlfriend. You're supposed to defend her against me."
Fred glared at his twin brother playfully. "Maybe I should start bashing your girlfriend then, eh? Alicia hasn't been up to her usual par lately, has she? Been distracted, d'you think? What have you two been getting up to late at night?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
George blushed a red that almost matched his hair…but not quite. "None of your business," he said gruffly.
Fred's eyes were ready to bug out of his sockets. "You mean—You and Alicia—"
"Like I said, mate," George interrupted him, "none of your bloody business."
"Bloody hell," Fred said under his breath, staring in awe at his brother.
"You mean you and Angelina haven't—"
"Nope," Fred said, a grin coming back to his face as he recovered from the shock of his brother having a sex life. "Not that we haven't been caught in a few closets, if you catch my drift."
George rolled his eyes. "You'd have to be dead and twenty feet under to not 'catch your drift' as you so eloquently put it."
"Why George!" Fred's eyes widened. "You used a big word! Eloquent. You should have a chocolate cake, you know."
George tried to suppress a grin, failed, and instead stuck out his tongue at his twin.
Fred wagged his finger, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, no you don't. Maybe Alicia should teach you how to use your tongue, eh?"
"Oh, I already have," Alicia's voice came from behind him.
Fred jumped up and spun around, looking into Alicia's smirking face. He held a hand over his heart, "Alicia! You almost gave me a heart attack!"
Alicia just grinned, walking over and plopping herself down in George's lap. "So, what are we going to do today?"
Fred sat back down, eyeing his brother with a grin on his face. George had obviously been shocked by Alicia's audacity… Not to mention the fact that Alicia had been right, judging by the blush on his twin's face. "Well, I was thinking we should go by the kitchen actually. George here said a big word!" he grinned, swelling his chest and wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.
George rolled his eyes, his hand playing with Alicia's hair.
Alicia smiled at George in a sickeningly sweet way that made Fred want to barf. "That sounds like fun." She yawned, stretching, and Fred looked away. She never did remember to put on a robe before coming downstairs. "I am rather hungry—and not for breakfast foods either."
"Wha's going on?" a voice murmured sleepily, as the body it belonged to collapsed next to Fred on the couch.
"Why hello Katie!" George grinned at the Chaser.
Alicia smacked him on the arm. "Why didn't I get a greeting like that, you great lump?"
George's eyes darkened slightly. "Didn't know you wanted one… Besides, I can give you a better one, don't you think?" He raised a brow before leaning down and kissing her until she was breathless.
Fred looked away, grinning. Those two were extremely affectionate with each other, although they still managed to maintain that air of playfulness. Instead he looked at Katie…and immediately regretted it. "Good Gods, girl! What the hell happened to you?!" he screamed, backing away.
"Wha?" she asked, cracking her eyes open. Her hair was a mess, a rat's nest really. It would have been worse had it been longer, but luckily she'd cut it before coming back for her seventh year. It was only an inch above her shoulders now…but that didn't stop it from looking horrible.
"You look horrid!" Fred yelled.
"No need to wake the whole House," Alicia murmured, playing with the hair on her boyfriend's neck.
"You know very well I'm not a morning person," Katie mumbled.
"Then why the bloody hell are you up?" Fred demanded, eyeing her as though he expected something else…strange…to happen.
She shrugged. "Dunno. Something told me to get up so I got up."
"That would be me," Angelina said, coming up to her four fellow Quidditch team members and sitting on the edge of the couch by Fred. She looked as though she'd been up for at least five hours already… At least to those who were not morning people. "I need to talk to you all… Oh, I say. Where's Harry and Ginny?"
"I'm right here," the fourth year said blearily, wiping her eyes. She sat down in front of Fred's feet.
"Oh, good!" Angelina exclaimed, smiling. "Now all we need is Harry…"
"I'll get him," a voice spoke up from behind George. It was Neville.
"Oh, good. Thank you, Neville!" she called after him, practically bouncing up and down in anticipation.
A few quiet minutes later, Harry walked—or was it tumbled?—down the stairs, his hair at odd angles, still looking sleepy. "Hello," he mumbled groggily, taking a seat on the floor, his eyes drooping.
"Alright team!" Angelina said, grinning. "First of all, I'd like to comment on the practice yesterday. Fred, George, outstanding job as usual! Those Bludgers aren't going to know what hit them!"
"More like the Slytherins," George whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
Fred sniggered appreciatively, stopping when Angelina smacked him. "Fred!" she scolded. Everyone laughed…although they didn't see the way she trailed her fingers along his arm in a way to make him shiver in a way only she knew how to do. "Anyways, Fred and George, good work and all that. Just keep practicing as usual and you should be fine.
"Now, then, Alicia, Katie. We're doing pretty well with the Hawkshead, but I think it's too predictable. We need to do something to it to make it different enough so that they think it's going one way and then… Well, it won't.
"Ginny. You're doing wonderfully as Keeper. I must say I did not expect you to be so gifted."
Ginny blushed. "I couldn't have done it without my brothers and Harry," she murmured. "And Oliver," she added as an after-thought. Fred and George laughed.
Angelina glared at the two, although by the twinkling in her eyes they could tell she didn't mean it. "Harry, as usual, wonderful work. I'm afraid I don't have anything for you to work on just yet, but give me some time…" She grinned. "I'll have something for you soon enough."
Katie yawned. "You know, it's hard to be mad at you for waking us up so early when you've just bombarded us with praises."
Angelina grinned. "Exactly why I did it. I don't point out errors until the practices. Then you can put your anger into something constructive."
Fred rolled his eyes, a grin playing along his face as he pulled Angelina down onto his laugh, silencing her protests by covering her mouth with his.
"Eww!" Ginny exclaimed. "Fred, I just woke up; I really don't need to see my brother snogging his girlfriend at this hour."
Fred pulled away grinning. "Oh, like you don't want to be doing the exact same thing with Harry right now?"
Harry blushed to the roots of his hair. Ginny held her nose up and said primly, "No, I don't." She got a mischievous look in her eye. "Not that I would object if it were Oliver…"
"Ew!" George exclaimed. "I don't need the mental image! Oh, save me!" he wailed dramatically. Alicia giggled, leaning down to kiss him.
"Well," Harry said. "I think I'm going back to bed."
"You do that, Harry…" Fred grinned. "You do that."
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A/N: That was so much fun to write. I love the Weasleys. Not quite as much as PhoenixRae, but I have to admit, it is hilariously fun to write them. *grin* So expect more of them in the coming chapters. Warning: Don't expect a serious plot. I don't deal in those, at least not for this fic. (You want a serious plot, go find The Secrets of My Heart and Just One Night… Oh, and definitely The Hogwarts Express.)